He was halfway out the door when his partner stopped him. "We depart after dawn. Is this wise?"
Shaking his head and grasping the doorframe in exasperation, he met Fran's amused expression with a sigh. "I cannot just sit and think. And I think tonight is my night," Balthier argued back.
Fran was perfectly content to sit in Reddas' manse and…meditate, contemplate, snooze, whatever the hell she did at night. Tomorrow would be Ridorana and most likely, imminent death. The leading man needed one more night of freedom before flying off to play hero at the edge of the world. He attempted to convey all of that to Fran in a smirk, and she crossed her arms in response.
"And they'll let you in after your last stunt?"
He grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "That was months ago. And besides," he answered, holding up a pouch of gil, "I'm only using my own gil. You needn't worry."
"Needn't worry about what?"
The Princess had snuck up on them in a stealthier manner than he would have expected. She stood behind Fran on the manse staircase, her fists on her hips. Fran turned aside to nod to Ashe. "Balthier will be without a gil to his name by daybreak, mark my words." The Viera left it at that and headed up the stairs gracefully, leaving him alone with an increasingly curious Ashe.
"Where are you going at this hour?" she inquired. He closed the door and leaned back against it.
"Well, I'm going nowhere if I keep getting interrupted," he replied grumpily, and Ashe raised an eyebrow.
"A house of ill repute?"
At that, he laughed uproariously. "Is that what they teach Princesses to call a brothel these days? No, that is not my destination." She continued to wait for an answer, and he wondered if the question that was forming on the tip of his tongue should remain unasked. The Princess had been brooding more than usual lately, circumstances being as they were. The company of a person of a royal and definitely attractive persuasion would make the night far more entertaining. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt…
"Well?"
"Are you a gambler, Princess?"
She frowned. "You're going to gamble tonight? We have important business tomorrow, and quite early at that. I would not wish to have a drunken fool pilot us to the Cataract."
He smirked and tossed his pouch of gil up the stairs to her, and she caught it at the last moment in surprise. "Why don't you keep an eye on me then? If you don't want a drunken fool, then keep me in check." Balthier could almost see the gears turning in Ashe's head. He imagined her speaking to herself in her head: What will Basch think? Should I go out alone with this scoundrel? What if he's lying? He interrupted her thought process. "You could be my good luck charm."
Ashe descended the staircase slowly, gripping the pouch of gil. He moved over to rest an elbow on the banister, and she stayed about three steps up in order to look him straight in the eye. "Only for an hour. You'll get to have your fun, and I'll have peace of mind about your abilities."
"My abilities?" he repeated, trying to put a hint of danger into his voice. He stepped up onto the stairs, now standing a few inches above her. The Princess' eyes narrowed as they so often did when he was around. He could not intimidate her into taking another step up, and instead, she pushed past him and stomped off to the door in a huff.
"Your piloting abilities, you arrogant ass," she grumbled just loud enough for him to hear, and he hurried after her. Balthier could tell by the tone of her voice that the Princess would be in an interesting mood for the remainder of the evening.
They walked the wooden plank road from the manse to Balfonheim proper, the night air humid for the time being. There was a misty drizzle, but it didn't put him off from his goal. Ashe, however, was clearly irritated. She walked swiftly at his side, her steps quicker than usual to keep up with the pace he was setting. He was walking a bit faster than usual just to see if she could keep up. For reasons he could not fully understand, he got a twisted pleasure out of teasing the Princess.
"You're not going to drown. Do we need to go back so you can change into something with a hood? Wouldn't want to muss your pretty royal hair," he taunted, feeling more like a teenager at the Akademy again rather than a grown man.
She merely snorted, probably unable to offer a retort as her attention seemed fully focused on keeping pace with him. The good gambling houses were along a row of tenements in a shadier area of the town…well, shadier than the rest. As the streets grew narrower and dirtier and the people that populated them grew equally unpleasant, Ashe seemed to stand closer to him, her fingers brushing against his sleeve as he stayed at what was probably a grueling pace for her. The buildings grew closer together, and they were mostly shielded from the light rain blowing in from the Naldoan Sea.
These streets were darker, and Balthier knew them well enough, but he could tell that the Princess had expected something else entirely. He watched her from the corner of his eye, seeing her expression grow more and more troubled. The sky pirate finally stopped at the end of a winding street and turned to face her. "It's not like the Grand Casino in Archades or even the card parlors in Rabanastre, Princess. This is real gambling, and you have to descend into hell to get there. Shall I take you back?"
She seemed to be catching her breath. "No, I…I just didn't think it would be so…"
"Nasty?" She nodded then, the color finally returning to her face after her exertions in chasing after him. He turned back to head down the passageway, slowing his pace to be a bit kinder. "I thought you lived underground? Surely this isn't so foreign to you?"
Ashe appeared insulted, and he withheld a grin. "My people struggle to feed themselves and their children! They don't…" she waved her arm dismissively around her, "lie drunk in the gutter, throwing away their last gil in a gamblers' den!"
He shook his head. "Princess, not everyone is that noble. Especially amongst thieves. But do you think that by simply becoming Queen you'll be able to eliminate poverty? Erase the evils of gambling and drink? Those problems existed before the Empire shoved your people under the streets."
She seemed taken aback by his inquiry and scowled. "I will be a Queen, not a miracle worker. I know these things are unavoidable, but I can take some measure of action against it." She seemed to sniff the air in disapproval. Ashelia B'Nargin was not used to being questioned or prodded in such a manner.
"Oh really? And what, pray, will Her Majesty do to curb the ills of society?"
A drunken fellow invaded their path in the narrow passageway. She gripped his wrist tightly as the man stumbled past, muttering gruffly to himself. Noticing their closeness once the other man had passed, she pulled away quickly. She returned her thoughts to his query, seeming to avoid any discussion of her clingy display. Ashe's responses were well-crafted, as if she was giving a speech to an assembly rather than conversing freely with a friend. It amused him greatly. "Well, if the people are poor, they need not become poorer. I shall endeavor to create tougher laws against piracy…"
"Hold on just a moment. I do not steal from the poor!"
She regarded him with a wry smile. "So you say. But I intend to be strict. If a pirate is caught in Dalmascan territory, perhaps he ought to have a cordial meeting with the hangman's noose?"
He grinned back as they approached the gambling house he frequented. "You little despot! What an ungrateful thing you are!"
Ashe shrugged. "Better a despot than a petty thief."
His eyes widened at her daring, and he rapped on the door huffily. "Petty thief?" he repeated incredulously, trying to hide the pride in his voice at her challenge. The Princess was beginning to give as good as she got. She was in an intriguing mood. Hopefully she wouldn't distract him from his cards with her little comments. Her usual attire was enough of a distraction to him, but if things went according to plan, he'd win the night. Having a lovely young companion at the tables often kept the opponent's eyes away from his cards. Hopefully this would turn the tide in his favor.
She looked at him coyly, and he was glad to see her more relaxed. The Princess had plenty to contend with, and it was good for her to simply get away from those looming issues, even if just for one night. The door opened, and a bored-looking man with tired eyes gave them the once over. Balthier watched Ashe tilt her head slightly to look past the man into the non-descript building. Only a solitary room was visible with a cot, a small table and chair, and a single candle to light the whole place. The Princess probably thought they had the wrong address – he couldn't wait to see her face when they really got to the inside.
"The forests sure have changed," the bored man drawled, scratching his large belly. It was all an act, Balthier knew, and the man's eyes were sharper than Ashe realized. Reddas had placed restrictions on gambling to curb vice in Balfonheim, but that just drove them all to be cleverer in hiding it. Dozens of buildings across the port town were now gambling dens and only those in the know could throw their gil away in them.
Balthier stood up straight and looked the man in the eye. "But the owls are still around." He could feel Ashe staring him down, but he merely raised an eyebrow and waited to be admitted. The man stepped aside and held the door open, still appearing as uninterested as he had all this time. Ashe stayed close behind him as the man shut the door, and she looked around at the tiny hovel of a space.
"What, do you play cards with this man?" she whispered to him, and he tried his best not to laugh.
The other man began rummaging in a small set of drawers beside the cot. "Virgin?"
"Yes, she is," he responded.
Ashe's eyes widened. "I beg your pardon?" The man produced a stamp and bottle of ink from the drawers and drew closer to her, but the Princess was too busy scowling at Balthier to notice the man coat the stamp heavily. The bored fellow grabbed her hand and pressed the inky stamp onto the top of it, leaving a dark crimson stain in the shape of a cactoid. Ashe recoiled in surprise, examining the mark with disdain. "What is going on here?" The man chuckled and moved to the drawers to put the materials back. She looked about ready to murder the both of them. "Balthier!" she cried angrily, desperately trying to rub the stamp off.
"Ah, apologies," the sky pirate replied casually, knowing full well that Ashe was due for the stamp. "Virgin in the sense that you've never been here before. Think of your little mark there as insurance – it's going to be there for a few days, fully announcing to the world that you've been in an illegal gambling house. You could run off and report the place, but you'd be incriminating yourself at the same time. Just how the place keeps its secrets." He grasped her hand suddenly and would not let her pull away. He examined the cactoid with a smile. "At least we didn't come to the place with the naked Viera stamp."
The Princess was about ready to snap. "You knew! You knew this whole time I'd be marked like a damned piece of livestock!" He inclined his head, and her face reddened to match the cactoid on her hand. "Do you forget that we travel with Reddas tomorrow morning? He's going to see this!"
He pulled her to the wall, smiling as she dragged her feet. "Oh, I think Reddas will be quite entertained to know that the Lady Ashe frequents such places. You're such a rebel." Ashe looked about ready to cry. Balthier reached for the secret switch on the wall, but the other man cleared his throat in warning.
"Be on your best behavior this time, Bunansa. And keep your girl in check as well," the man commented, his bored expression changing drastically into a threatening glare. Ashe was being bombarded with surprises at this rate.
"Rand, you know I make no promises about that," he responded with a wink, and he pressed the switch. The stained, wallpapered panel slid aside, revealing a rickety staircase. The sounds of bawdy music, laughing women, and gambling hit their ears, and he knew Ashe was awed by the soundproofing capabilities of the entry room. Rand closed the panel behind them, and the pirate tugged her forward up the stairs.
"We won't stay long. I'll get you back early so you can start scrubbing your hand if you like." The smell of smoke and alcohol drifted down the staircase, and he wondered which manner of death was coming to him at Basch's hand for taking his charge to such a place. "I only ask that you do your best to help me out tonight."
She finally spoke again, her voice less angry but still irritated. It enticed him a great deal, he admitted to himself. The Princess was rather attractive when she was grumpy. "Help you what? To cheat?"
He turned around, the stair creaking under his foot. He longed to have a Silence Powder to toss her way. "Watch what you say," he said quickly, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm serious, Ashe. Don't go making flippant remarks like that. I may cheat when I play against Vaan, but I do not cheat here." She raised her eyebrows suspiciously, and he sighed. "Correction – I do not cheat here any longer. I found out the hard way. But I'm a reformed man, and I just want to throw my money away with a pretty woman at my side tonight. That's all."
She crossed her arms defiantly. "So what am I supposed to do?"
He beamed at her willingness to at least entertain his request. "As I said, you're going to be my good luck charm. You'll stand behind me at the table, and if you could bend forward once in a while to…"
"Excuse me?"
He held up a hand. "Let me finish. If you could bend forward a few times, maybe…drape yourself about my shoulders, give me a kiss for luck…"
"Balthier…"
"Oh, no worries. I won't be distracted from my cards, but I'm convinced that you'll distract the other players from theirs very easily. It will mess with their concentration, give me a bit of an edge, that's all." He didn't know why Ashe was so offended by his request. It was just acting after all, and he could think of at least seven women in Balfonheim Port alone who would jump at the chance to be his partner in crime at the gaming tables. But Ashe was ever a mystery.
She stared at him coldly for a few moments, and then her expression turned neutral. The Princess was plotting. "Suppose I do go along with this charade. Serve as a distraction for the other disgusting, perverted slime at the table." He bit his lip to hold in a laugh, knowing full well that she was including him in her disgusting, perverted slime categorization. "What's my reward?"
He pulled her up the stairs as he heard Rand speaking to a new patron down on the ground level. They came to a landing, only a large wooden door standing between them and the gaming floor. Balthier stroked his chin and considered it. "How does twenty-five percent of my winnings sound?" He chose not to mention that he rarely made any profit when he gambled fairly.
"Fifty."
"That's half!" he spat back incredulously.
"I'm not unfamiliar with arithmetic, Balthier."
He sighed loudly and watched the Princess stare up at him in challenge, her fingers covering the cactoid stamp as best they could. "Thirty."
She smiled. "Make it forty and you have yourself a partner." Forty percent? He thought of each and every other woman who could have been there to help him. Not a one would demand forty percent. But then again, he didn't care as much about those seven ladies combined in comparison to the one who stood before him. Ashe was going to make a marvelous politician.
He held out his hand. "Forty it is." They shook on it, and he moved ahead to the door. "Stay with me. These men are all fools, so you don't have to go overboard to earn your forty bloody percent." She grinned, and he opened the door. He watched her face fall and her eyes panic.
The room was boisterous and filled with a smoky haze. Scantily clad serving girls with trays of colorful drinks sauntered past as he watched Ashe survey the room. Though the room downstairs was tiny, the entire top floor of the tenement housed the gambling tables. Card games of every type were scattered throughout the room, and men and women both could be heard cheering or complaining as the roulette wheel spun noisily at the center table. Large, burly men hovered menacingly at several points in the room to deal with cheaters, and a lively band of musicians played raucous pirate tunes near the bar. Balthier put his arm around her shoulder and began to guide her to a table that wasn't as smoky or noisy.
The other gamblers, pirates all, barely acknowledged him as he took one of the few open seats left at the table. Ashe stood ramrod straight behind him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he signaled for the dealer to include him in the next hand. He reached up his hand and gave her fingers a squeeze. "My gil, please." She loosened her grip on one shoulder and dumped his pouch of coin onto the table. Her hand returned to his shoulder, and the mighty Ashelia B'Nargin seemed to almost shrink behind him. He was dealt in for the next round, and a quick glance up from his cards showed that a skinny waif of a man was already admiring the Princess' curvy shape. He tossed in his bet, and thanked the gods above that he'd brought her, much as she was probably scared out of her mind.
A few hands later, he was already up a few hundred gil, and Ashe was finally starting to relax her hold on him. A young woman came by to take drink orders for the table. "I'll buy this round, chaps," he offered, seeing as how he was the last to join the table. He turned the serving girl. "Your best brew for us sky dogs, and how about a Cerobi windstorm for the lady?"
Ashe opened her mouth to protest, but the girl was already off. "Balthier!" she whispered, but he ignored her, instead keeping his eye on the skinny fellow. The Princess leaned forward to complain closer to his ear, and he knew that Skinny was getting a fine view of some Dalmascan scenery. "Balthier, I'm not here to drink with you."
He turned his head and noticed that he was inches from her lips. "You agreed to this," he whispered back. "Besides, you'll like it. It's Fran's favorite." He neglected to mention that Fran had a very high tolerance for liquor. But Ashe needed to loosen up a bit. His shoulders would probably bear the imprints of her fingers for days to come. She sighed quietly and stood up again. But where she had been stiff and uncooperative before, she now rested her hands more casually on his shoulders.
The serving girl returned, and the men at the table all raised their glasses in silent thanks. He held up his own glass, clinking it against Ashe's. "Take it slow." She took a sip, and he watched her doomed attempt to mask her obvious enjoyment of the beverage's taste. It tasted exactly like star fruit juice, but before you knew it, the alcohol kicked in. He turned back to the game with a swig of his beer and listened to the Princess' quick sips behind him. She rested her empty hand on his shoulder, and he discovered that Skinny was joined by Hooked Nose and Eye Patch now, their eyes drifting upward every few moments to watch Ashe drink her Cerobi windstorm.
He managed to win three out of the next four hands with less than stellar cards, and Ashe set her empty glass down on the table beside his still half-full pint. "May I have another?" she whispered in his ear, her fingers tapping impatiently on his shoulder in a downright adorable manner. Her voice was still steady, but he knew a second windstorm would change that soon enough. "You can take it out of my percentage." He raised his hand and waved one of the serving girls over.
Balthier opened his mouth to order, but Hooked Nose raised a handful of coins and waved to the server. "I'll buy it for her. Make it a double," the fellow said with a sleazy look at Ashe's chest. The Princess seemed to realize the danger, but once again, the serving girl was gone before she could object. He realized then that he'd been tapping his foot hard against the floor, and he chastised himself for being so overtly jealous. The doubly strong windstorm was delivered shortly thereafter, and Ashe mumbled a quick thank you to the ugly pirate across the table.
It was a few hands later when Balthier noticed that Ashe's drink was kicking in. When he won a hard-fought match against Eye Patch, she ruffled his hair playfully. While he contemplated raising a bet, she let her fingers trail up and down his neck. He could see the envy in the other men's eyes, but it was growing increasingly difficult to concentrate on his own cards. He'd severely underestimated the hold the Princess had over him.
He still managed to win the hand, and Ashe was a bit more congratulatory than he expected. She moved forward, her hand unsteadily setting her now empty glass down beside the other. As she leaned back, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and set her head down on top of his. "I'm so proud of you!" she exclaimed happily. He had precious little time to enjoy the feeling of her arms around him as one of the burly staff members approached the table with an intimidating expression.
"Mister Sertana would like to see you," the man grumbled. Oh gods.
Balthier extricated himself from the arms of the increasingly happy Princess. He helped her to sit in the chair. "I'll only be a moment," he told her, and she waved him off like she was dismissing a servant. He would have smiled at her action if he wasn't shaking in his boots. Artus Sertana was the owner of the establishment, and Balthier had only recently won his way back into the man's good graces. Sertana's daughter had helped him skim off a couple days' profits a few months back, earning Balthier the enmity of her father. Sertana's daughter had also claimed to be eighteen years old when she was in fact fifteen. This didn't ingratiate him with the man either. But Balthier's luck had changed, having fulfilled some of his debt to Artus by stealing an artifact of great worth from some Bhujerban noble.
But it was then that he realized that his debt to Sertana was only partially repaid – he and Fran had been sent to the Royal Palace of Rabanastre for one last theft. And here he was back in Balfonheim with nothing to offer the casino owner. That blasted Dusk Shard would now be the death of him. He needed to get out…and fast. The sky pirate began to glance around for a possible escape route, sighing as three more of the large guards drifted from other parts of the gaming floor to follow behind him.
He was escorted to a roped-off area on a raised dais where Sertana kept an eye on his establishment. The man had grown even fatter, and Balthier nearly winced at the way the man's throne-like chair sank beneath his weight. Artus dismissed all but two of the hired goons and shook his head wearily. "Mister Bunansa, so wonderful of you to pay your respects. I'd written you off as missing all those weeks ago when I sent you and your partner to Rabanastre."
Balthier bowed slightly to the man, although he felt like he was bowing to a pig writhing about in its own filth. "Artus, it's been too long. Funny you should mention my errand in Dalmasca…"
Sertana leaned forward in the chair, scratching one of his chins. "Where is the item? You didn't do something stupid like sell it to Farini did you?"
"No! No, of course not! I don't deal with his lot," he replied quickly, trying to come up with some excuse. "Coincidentally," Balthier stammered, "the night Fran and I made for the palace, those damned insurgents attacked Vayne Solidor's little celebration. You didn't receive the note I sent you?"
Artus snorted. "The note?"
Balthier smacked a hand against his forehead in feigned frustration. "I paid a great deal of coin to have it delivered! That little brat probably ran off with it! I swear, Artus, I wrote to let you know of our lack of success and…"
"Shut your hole, would you?" Sertana snapped, beckoning for one of the serving girls to bring him a leg of some meat Balthier could not readily identify. "The Viera is the better liar of the two of you. Where is my treasure? I don't suppose you've got it concealed in those painted-on trousers of yours?"
"I don't have it." Not really, he reasoned.
The sky pirate watched the rotund man's eyes drift over to the gaming table and saw his lusty gaze settle on Ashe. "Who's the skinny little thing?"
"Oh her?" he stalled, "just a serving wench from the Whitecap." He swallowed nervously as he saw Ashe holding cards in one hand and a new drink in the other. She was betting with his money!
"Serving wench, eh?" Artus repeated, taking a large bite from his meal on a stick. "Perhaps she'd be interested in working here until you retrieve the treasure for me?" The thought of Ashe waiting on the fat man's every…need made him clench his fists angrily. "Ah, not just a serving wench then, is she?" The woman was really getting under his skin. He couldn't even lie successfully! Sertana licked his lips eagerly as he stared at the Princess.
He needed to think of something before Ashe found herself as an indentured servant. Then Basch would really find a creative way to kill him. "I can bring you something better!" he blurted out, drawing the man's treacherous eyes away from Ashe's form.
Artus took another bite of his food, the juices dribbling down his enormous face. "I'm listening."
He held his head up confidently, looking the jelly-like man straight in the eye. "I set out tomorrow for the Ridorana Cataract. Any treasures I find there are yours."
The enormous man chortled, his rolls of fat rumbling. He sort of resembled a Flan in a way, Balthier realized. A Flan with hair. "Oh Bunansa, you want to leave this building in pieces that badly?" He lifted a meaty fist and beckoned to one of the guards. "Bring his lady friend over here now."
"I'm telling the truth! I depart from the aerodrome at dawn! Go check the flight schedules!" It was strange. Telling the truth, that is. But he'd lied to Sertana so many times that he should have known it wouldn't work. He heard a familiar voice raised in anger, and he turned to see one of the guards drag Ashe away from the table. Her slowed reflexes were leading her to fail at her escape attempt, and by the time she was on the dais, she'd pretty much given up.
The Princess' face was hot and angered. "I was winning! I order you…release me!" Her voice was heavily slurred from her Cerobi windstorms, a quick glance back at the table revealing four empty glasses now. He wondered if he would get a chance to return to the table for his gil at all. The guard gave Ashe a rather rough push, and she fell into him, holding onto his sleeve for dear life. "Who is this…" her voice vanished, her face instead turning to disgust at the grotesque form of Artus Sertana engulfing the poor chair.
He wrapped an arm around her waist protectively, wishing he'd be doing so under far different circumstances. Artus took a good long look at Ashe's body, and Balthier cleared his throat. "Your business is with me. Leave her out of this."
Sertana grinned. "Let's say I believe your little fantasy tale about Ridorana. And let's also say that you will truly bring me any treasures you find. But I will require…something in exchange. Something to hold onto until you return…or someone to attend to my…"
Balthier knew exactly where this was going, and tipsy as she was, he could tell that Ashe was catching on very quickly. "Look friend," Ashe slurred furiously, pointing a wandering finger in Artus' general direction. "I don't know what this stupid pirate did, but I'm not getting bartered!"
"This little serving wench has quite a mouth on her!" Artus tittered, and Balthier could almost feel Ashe begin to sober up.
"Serving wench?" she cried, turning her head up to stare at him like he'd brutally murdered her beloved childhood pet. Gods, he didn't need her turning on him! He was finally formulating an escape in his mind, but he needed her help to get out of the damned gambling house.
"Artus, if you please. Give us a moment to consider your generous offer," he asked cautiously, tightening his grip on the Princess in hopes of stressing the importance of her silence at present. She still scowled at him, but she seemed to realize that they were in legitimate danger. Sertana fluttered his chubby fingers, granting him and the Princess leave to converse in a corner of the dais. They were still visible, but at least they were mostly out of earshot.
He stood very much in Ashe's personal space, but there was no room for propriety at this moment. Balthier held her shoulders tightly, but she was still swaying a bit on her feet. He moved a hand to grip her chin and tipped it up to meet his gaze. "Ashe, I need you to focus right now."
"You have really nice eyes," she remarked suddenly, and he could hear Sertana laughing from his seat.
He gritted his teeth. "Yes, thank you very much. Now tell me something, have you ever…" he lowered his voice, "cast a magick spell inside a building?"
She gave him a blank look and then suddenly her eyes widened. "What?!" she cried, her delayed reaction time not helping his current state of panic.
He kept his voice almost imperceptibly quiet, and Ashe had to step up on her tiptoes shakily to hear him. He did his best to remember where the glass doors behind Artus' seat led. He moved his lips as close to her ear as possible. "I'll take care of breaking us out that door. Now I know Pen's the best with all the fire spells, but I need you to set our mutual friend over there ablaze," he mumbled, gesturing back to Artus. "And I need you to find a way to chant the incantation without them knowing you're doing it."
She pulled back away from him and looked about ready to fall over. Luckily, Ashe decided to whisper back, and he was grateful that some of her sense was returning. "You must be joking. I'm in no condition to be that…um…" She seemed to search for an eternity for the word she needed. A quick glance at Artus earned him an impatient glare, and he turned back to the Princess. Finally, she was able to find the right word. "I could never be that accurate. You're the one who…who made me drink all those…"
Her voice cut off abruptly, and he saw a spark in her eyes. The same crafty spark she got when she wormed her way out of mark hunts with Vaan or wrapped Basch around her little finger. That same spark had been in her eyes when she had told him about a fantastic "treasure" in Raithwall's tomb that turned out to be a stupid esper. Balthier had never been so grateful to see that spark.
So he was utterly surprised when she shoved him away with an amazing show of strength. "You stupid, worthless pirate!" He stumbled back a few paces in shock, her voice carrying across the entire gambling house. She was still a bit shaky on her feet, but the stick shoved up her royal behind must have been keeping her upright. "You brought me here to be his sex slave? I'm going to kill you!" Sertana's laughter echoed in his ears.
Balthier almost jumped back in true fear as Ashe lunged at him then, but the girl was far cleverer than he'd ever guessed. Because when she lunged, she took on a nauseated expression and stumbled, clutching one hand to her stomach and another to her mouth. "I'm going to…I think I'm going to be ill!" Artus recoiled, and all of his guards stepped back in a panic. Ashe let out a few overdramatic coughs, and that must have been her signal.
"Water!" he cried, his adrenaline kicking in. "Artus, where's water for the poor girl?" Ashe let out a few more wracking coughs and stumbled after him and closer to the large glass doors. Sertana gestured wildly at the serving table, and Balthier raced over to it. By this point, Ashe was on her knees coughing, and the crowd on the dais was backing away hurriedly to avoid what would undoubtedly be quite a vomiting event. The noise grew loud so quickly that nobody seemed to notice that Ashe stopped coughing, but she was still holding her hand over her mouth. And her eyes were dead set on Artus Sertana.
"A glass, Sertana! She needs a glass!" he shouted, attracting everyone's attention. Artus finally unstuck himself from his seat and waddled over.
The fat man picked up the water pitcher. "Just give her the whole damned thing!" But the large pitcher tumbled out of his chubby hands as the sleeve of his decorative robe caught on fire. The water to put it out crashed to the floor noisily and Balthier sprung into action. He grabbed one of the large legs of unknown meat and chucked it at the glass door, shattering it into thousands of pieces. Artus began to scream at his current flammable state, and the sky pirate hurried back to Ashe.
He yanked her to her feet and pulled her out the now empty doorframe, his shoes crunching on the broken glass. It was pouring rain outside, and the balcony was slippery. Sertana's screams followed them as he nearly tossed Ashe's light form over the railing and onto the gravel roof of the next building over. It was only a few feet drop, but the Princess landed a bit harder than he'd intended. Balthier hopped over the rail and landed beside her, shaking his head. She'd have time to yell at him later. Right now, they needed to get running.
He pulled her up with a muffled apology as a large bolt of lightning cracked across the sky. Her hand was slipping in his grasp, and he decided to pull her along the rooftops by her wrist. The rain pelted them hard, and he was grateful that they only had a few more gravel bits to run across before they reached the ladder at the end of the block. Balthier also thanked his lucky stars that Sertana's guards were too preoccupied to follow after them.
They reached the ladder, soaked to the bone. He let Ashe climb down first and was happy when his feet rested on familiar wooden planks at the bottom. "Alright, let's get back to the manse," he said and gave Ashe's arm a tug again, but she wouldn't budge. Instead, she stood there, the rain pouring down all around them, fully sober by now.
Her hands were clenched tightly to her sides as the rain pelted them. Her hair hung about her head in thin strands, streams of water running down her face as she started to shake. Balthier regretted his choice of trousers, knowing they were all but ruined, but even his wardrobe mishaps were nothing compared to the onslaught he was readying himself for.
"Come on, Princess. Let's get you out of this rain. You're beginning to resemble a drowned cat," he explained as nicely as he could, holding out his arm to escort her back to the manse. His arm was refused, and she was still quivering. Balthier remembered the last time he'd seen Ashe this consumed with fury – and it had ended with Basch getting slapped across the face.
The rain was still pouring, but her shouts carried over that noise easily. If he was smart, he'd run back to the manse before he received a royal boot in his ass, but he had to be a man and take the verbal onslaught. It was probably his fault in some way.
"You only dragged me out with you so you could cheat at cards, and you brought me to the worst part of town! And then some sleazy man imprinted me with this mark that isn't coming off!" He watched her thrust her hand into the air, and he watched the rain splatter across it. The cactoid remained in place, only running slightly at the sides. "And then those horrible men were undressing me with their eyes! And you made me drink those windstorm things!" He decided not to remind her that she had asked for all the drinks after the first. "And then off you go, talking to your fat friend, leaving me at the table all alone to gamble against those vile, beastly men and just as I was about to win, those other men dragged me away! And once there, I discover that you were about to trade me to that awful man for whatever ridiculous bargain YOU failed to uphold, and you sweet talk me into setting him on fire!" By this point, her words were drifting in and out of his ears, and he was entirely focused on how beautiful she looked in the pouring rain. "On fire, Balthier! Inside a crowded building! And you broke a door open with a piece of meat and…"
He was unable to take her tongue lashing any longer and couldn't stop himself from giving her one in return. Her shouting was abruptly muffled as he held her rain-slick face in between his hands and kissed her, her fists almost immediately pounding against his chest in protest. He could still taste the windstorms on her lips, and she stopped hitting him, instead moving her hands to grip his arms through his soaking wet shirt as she returned his affections eagerly.
She pulled away to catch her breath, and her eyes were closed. He bent down again, but she pushed her fingers against his mouth. "Give me a minute, I'm still mad at you," she complained in between heaving breaths. The rain was still coming down, and he was dumbfounded. There they were in a Balfonheim back alley surrounded by trash. And despite that, he felt an intense giddiness seeping through him like the water was seeping into his skin. He let out a noisy, almost psychotic laugh, and Ashe stared at him like he was insane. She squeezed his arm. "What is wrong with you?"
The words were tumbling out fast and furious. "We're going to be incredibly ill from being out in this bloody rain! Our clothes are ruined! I've lost all my money! And yes, I broke a door with food…"
"And you kissed me!" she pointed out, but he could tell that she wasn't terribly bothered by it. In fact, Balthier had almost been startled by her enthusiastic participation.
"And I kissed you! And it's actually all I'd like to do right now, quite frankly." And so he kissed her again, and she allowed it to go on for a fairly long time. There was a flash of red in his peripheral vision, but it mattered very little when he had the Princess in his arms, and she was holding onto his biceps like she would die if she let go.
There was a loud crack of lightning above them. It caused Ashe to jump, and he managed to pull her closer still. And that was when the flash of red shoved him against the wall.
"What do you think you're doing?"
His back had hit the wall hard, and his eyes finally returned to focus. And he realized that any threat to his well-being he'd faced in Sertana's company was as nothing compared to his current trouble. Because he now had the battle-scarred face of Basch fon Ronsenburg staring daggers at him.
For her part, Ashe was already tugging on the Captain's arm. "Basch, don't!"
"Your Majesty, he was…forcing himself…he was…" It would have been comical to see Basch struggle with words, but he knew that the struggle was only due to the Captain's fervent desire to head butt him, stab him, maim him, something like that. "He was molesting you!"
"Molesting?!" Balthier exclaimed.
"Basch, he was…" Ashe began, but the Captain would hear none of it. While Balthier would usually characterize the fellow as a stick in the mud and a bit too stoic for his tastes, he'd never seen the man in such a rage before. No wonder he'd been Captain of the army. The man was like a demon. Balthier imagined Archadian soldiers pissing themselves at the sight of Basch charging them on the battlefield.
Basch's finger was poking him in the chest then. "You brought her here! To this den of thievery and slatterns! I ought to kill you where you stand, pirate!"
"Basch! You will unhand him immediately!"
Balthier was impressed. Despite being soaked to the bone and in recovery from four Cerobi windstorms and a steamy session with a sky pirate, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca was a force to be reckoned with. Those same Archadians that would wet themselves at Basch's presence would have surely keeled over and died at the sight of Her Majesty enraged. Her eyes were sharp and focused on her knight, and Basch backed down.
"Your Highness, I…"
"See?" Balthier interrupted, "it wasn't molestation. She wanted me to…"
"Will the both of you please just shut up?" He and Basch proceeded to do so immediately. The rain was finally stopping, and he remembered that they had a very important mission the following morning. "Basch, I will be happy to explain my actions when I return to the manse. Please let Balthier escort me back. We still have some business to discuss and…"
"Forgive me, my lady, but it did not appear to be business…"
"Basch!"
"I apologize. I spoke out of turn."
Balthier could still see the man's anger bubbling under the surface, and Balthier wondered how dead he would be if Ashe hadn't intervened. And then he wondered why Ashe had intervened at all. He'd clearly ruined her evening. Was he that masterful of a kisser? Basch grunted loudly and turned to head back to the manse, leaving the two of them alone.
As soon as Basch was out of sight, he took the Princess' hand. "So, would you like to discuss this business now?" He moved to kiss her, and Ashe rolled her eyes. She pulled her hand back and began walking in the direction of the manse.
"Yes. And it will be business only. I think you've caused me enough trouble this evening, Balthier," she grumbled.
"Trouble?" he cried, following after her. "If sticking your tongue down my throat in return is your way of defining trouble then I suggest you invest in a good dictionary. You weren't protesting very much after a while, Princess!"
She sighed. "Well, we've been caught. I imagine Fran tipped him off. And so because of this, I think we will have to renegotiate the terms of our agreement from earlier this evening."
"Come again?" he exclaimed, the night air chilling him in his soaking clothes.
"Seventy percent."
"What? You know all my gil is back at the gambling house!"
She waved her hand dismissively. "Basch needs a new shield, and that will come out of your purse. It will be your apology to him."
"My apology? I've done nothing wrong!"
Ashe smiled. "You broke about fifteen Dalmascan laws back in that alley." He held his tongue, wondering if it was still a crime if she enjoyed the "molestation." She was already sniffling, and Balthier decided to enjoy her good will for the time being. Once Ashe got sick, she'd probably beat him with something heavy or pointy. "It may not mollify him, but I imagine that a peace offering will help him deal with…what he saw back there between us."
"Perhaps you didn't catch the part where I said all of my money is at the gambling house?"
She laughed at him. "Then you're just going to have to bring me out with you next time. I'll help you win it all back."
He sighed. "Well, we can't go to that house again. I'm a dead man if I go in there." But the look on her face seemed genuine. "You'd really go again? Didn't you just get through tearing me a new…"
She cut him off before he said something vulgar. "I'm your good luck charm, aren't I?" She stopped walking and pulled him to her. She forced him to break yet more Dalmascan laws, and he begrudgingly obliged since her lips were so very soft and supple.
"Seventy percent it is then," he whispered against her lips. She smiled and kissed him sweetly, then pulled him back to the manse.