Author's Note: My first post! Here goes.

Summary: This is just a small bit of fluff without much plot. It takes place as the group gathers in Balfonheim Port before the events at Ridorana.

Warning: Rated M- Sexual Situation- If you dont like that stuff, this story is not for you!

Disclaimer: Square Enix owns the characters in this story.

Nightfall enveloped Balfonheim Port, as the large man achingly walked into the small town. He made his way down the cobbled path that lead to the comfort of the port-side abode that he currently shared with his cohorts. They planned to stay in town a few days and Reddas was lavishing them with hospitality; food, ale, even a small cottage to call their own. The group wanted to keep a very low profile however, and Basch had been exploring the Cerobi Steppe under the veil of darkness, scouting for the right place to anchor and conceal the Strahl lest it be unwittingly detected.

Fool.

He roughly rubbed his bloodied hand over his stern, masculine face and growled deeply at himself. How could he let his guard down and allow a single fiend to penetrate his defenses? The left side of his head throbbed terribly. It was very unusual for a charybterix to be active after dark, and with his guard down the diver had blindsided him before the knight spun around and administered a quick death with the razor sharp edge of his blade. Unfortunately, before he could silence the beast, it had screeched out an alarm that brought down a flapping, fluttering mob of the furious pecking creatures from the top of an adjacent windmill. The moment of chaos that ensued was a constant barrage of slashing talons and ripping beaks. He angrily wiped at the blood dripping into his left eye and ground his teeth.

Damn scar has been torn open.

He mulled over the recent encounter. If only he could keep his mind on the tasks at hand and away from... He cut his own thoughts off immediately, but still an image burned behind his eyes even as he clamped them shut in frustration. A flash of silky, ashen-colored hair. He rounded the final bend of the path then suddenly stopped short. He brought his head abruptly upright, narrowing his pale blue eyes and peered at the small house he shared with his allies. His senses began to sharpen and his gauntlet covered hand immediately went to the hilt of his sword. The small house was bathed in warm glow that spilled out the small window and a thin wisp of smoke curled from the chimney into the starry evening sky.

The slight aroma of something mouthwatering reached his nostrils over the salty smell of the nearby sea, and he moved forward once again, no longer completely alarmed but eager to investigate. Realizing it was most likely one of his companions that had returned early, he felt shame that it would be discovered that he had slipped up and been injured out on the steppe. No one was supposed to be at the dwelling. The others had gone on various appointed errands, each headed in separate directions, to stock up on the group's supplies. Balthier had announced that he would be off in search of fuel and much needed replacement parts for the Strahl and that Fran would be accompanying him.

This he punctuated with a brisk slap to Fran's exposed rump which she utterly ignored and added, "We may not be returning until the morn."

Vaan and Penelo, on the other hand, were making their trip on chocobo to the Phon Coast by way of the path they discovered earlier through the Tchita uplands. There they planned on making a few trades with the Bangaas that ran the Hunt Club. Vaan had blathered on excitedly about having collected enough trophies for a really cool new weapon. They too, would probably not head back to Balfonheim until tomorrow. So that left...

"Uughh." Basch could not contain his displeasure, and he groaned aloud.

Ashe.

Her errand was to stock up on the foodstuffs for the group. A task easily completed by now, considering their close proximity to the sea-side area that bustled and clamored with merchants even at this late hour. He shuffled to a halt, momentarily unsure if he would continue to the quaint cottage. She was the last person he wanted to discover that he had been unprepared. What kind of a knight will she think of he? He sighed.

Weak.

He arrived at the threshold, placed his large callused hand against the thick oak door, and bowed his head down to listen. He heard nothing more from inside than a sizzling pop from the fire. Flattening one hand on his hip he began patting himself, feeling for the over sized iron key that unlocked the door, this he found with little trouble. He paused briefly, exhaling through a sickening surge of pain in his head, inserted the key and pushed the door open slowly. Still on guard for any surprises, he moved with utter stealth and peeked inside. Straightaway he saw the form of a young, shapely woman bending over the crackling fire. She was the only person here he understood with a twinge of anxiety crossing his eyes, as he had not yet found himself alone with her. He noticed immediately that she had removed her leg armor and boots; her slender legs were completely bared all the way up to...well, his eyes uncontrollably explored the shadowy and curved form of the bottom of her rear. She straightened her back, causing the short, pink skirt she wore to just cover her round curves and with her back to him, he shook his head furious with himself for disrespecting her with his eyes. The motion of his head caused a surge of pain and dizziness that nearly made him sway on his sturdy legs.

When the room came back into focus he wondered what on earth she was up to.

Was she ... cooking?

He watched her for a moment and couldn't repress a small smile, as she dipped a wooden spoon into the pot she had hanging on a sturdy iron hook over the fire. She gave the contents a quick stir then brought it to her mouth for a taste. He was about to announce his presence when he was stopped short by the vision of her. She brought her graceful fingers up and tucked her hair behind her ear, opened her mouth slightly and stuck out the tip of her pink tongue to test the temperature of the soup. She closed her eyes as her tongue moved over the spoon. Basch suddenly realized he wasn't breathing and his mouth had opened as hers was. His eyes grew wider with alarm.

What in the name of the Gods!?

He chided himself immediately. This is not a dignified way to be looking at your sovereign. Man get a hold of yourself, and do it now. He ground his teeth together and took a very long, very deep breath, nostrils flaring, trying to become completely composed.

He soundlessly closed the door and leaned back against it. He stood in the shadows, folding his muscular arms across his chest.

"Majesty." He almost whispered, his voice soft and low.

...

"Oh!" Ashe uttered in surprise and spun around, splashing soup out of the spoon and over the stone floor, just missing the plush braidwool rug. He is here and I'm alone with him. The thought excited her beyond belief, yet utterly terrified her at the same time.

"Captain! You scared me." She gasped, gripping at her chest.

She laughed out loud at her reaction, and returned the spoon to the pot. Her words began tumbling out in a rush, fueled by nervousness and her relief at seeing it was the one person with whom she felt safest that had been the one to scare her nearly out of her skin.

"I am unsure if this will be edible, but I couldn't help but buy up some of the fresh produce here." She stirred the concoction briskly and continued, "They have stock from the entirety of Ivalice here. I even found onions from the Feywood..." She began then trailed off when she glanced up at him and saw the dried gore splattered over his armor and the dark blood congealing in his blond hair. "You are hurt!" She blurted, tossing the spoon at the pot. Ashe rushed over to where he stood by the door. "Basch, you are hurt." She took a firm hold of his leather-bound hands and tugged on his arms, trying to pull him closer to the fire where she could see. "What has happened!?"

"Nay, I am unhurt Highness, it was only a diver." He replied without emotion, keeping his back to the heavy wooden door.

"I need"... she tugged. "To see"... another pull on his arm.

By the Gods! He is so strong.

She was beginning to get frustrated with his non-compliance. She yanked again, literally planting her bare foot on the door for leverage. She couldn't budge him.

...

He wished deeply that she would go back to her cooking and stop making such a fuss over him.

"Majesty, stop!" He barked down at her, a bit more harshly then he had intended, his head drumming with pain. He softened his expression, but not before he saw the quick flash of hurt in her eyes.

Damn.

She tossed her head defiantly up toward him and immediately reverted to her royal authoritative demeanour, planting her delicate hand on her hips.

"Captain fon Ronsenburg I order you to the chair by the fire."

He sighed and begrudgingly he allowed her to lead him; there he stood near the fire, looking at her woozily, his head doing another round of spin the room. That forsaken creature had cracked his head harder than he realized.

"Sit" She ordered and pulled him toward a wooden chair close to the hearth. "I have to clean this and see if you need healing." She pushed him down into the chair, then picked up his over sized hands and placed them in his lap. As he settled into the chair the leather parts of his armored vest and shorts squeaked softly.

"I'm am unhurt Highness. I just need to lie down." He said deliberately looking down at his hands. In truth his head hurt madly, but he wasn't sure if he could bare to feel her touching him one more time.

She ignored him and dipped a clean cloth into the kettle of hot water that sat next to the crackling fire. As she leaned and stretched away from him, he once again caught a glimpse of the expanse of leg and the lower curve of her slender bottom and instantly felt a gentle stirring in his groin despite the ache in his temple.

Oh no.

His legs flexed and he jumped up...or tried to...blurting much to loudly, "I shall retire!" But before he could stand upright he felt that damn vertigo again and sat back down abruptly.

...

She turned back to him looking at him carefully, and he again began to protest but she silenced him with a warm, smooth fingertip against his lips and a firm. "Shhhhh."

Her finger lingered a moment longer than she meant for it to. His lips were intriguing, softer than she had expected, and pouty.

Oh wow.

...

His senses went into overdrive at that moment. In the same instant her finger touched his lips, he realized he could smell her, and her smell was far more delicious than any that wafted from the simmering soup, she smelled intoxicating. He swallowed hard, his throat making an audible sound, as she leaned over him and wrapped her hand around the protruding hilt of his sword. His eyes traveled the length of her arm and came to rest at her pale fingers enclosing the shaft; it was momentarily impossible for him not to imagine her hand wrapped around something just about the same width and length and very close to where her hand was now. To his horror, he realized he was becoming aroused. The sword made a quiet hissing sound as she slowly slid it up and out of its sheath.

"Highness." He could barely voice.

Dammit his throat felt too tight.

Ashe set the blade on the table beside him with a metallic clunk, then leaned over him and began unfastening the buckle at the throat of his armored vest. She grimaced a bit as her hands squelched through the creatures' blood.

"Majesty!" He almost slid sideways out of the chair. "I can tend my own wounds, you mustn't..."

"Basch! If you do not stay still, you will force me to tie you to that chair."

Oh now that really did not help.

"Lift up your arms." She commanded.

He shook his head, furrowing his golden brow.

"Why are you being so difficult!?"

What could he say? He decided then to put up his most impenetrable mental block and allow her to finish her nursing of him. She obviously wasn't going to let it go, and he was almost sure he could tame his lustful reaction to all this. It will all end sooner that way.

Get some control.

He tipped his head back, closed his eyes, set his jaw, and willed himself to block out the entire experience.

Yet no matter how hard he tried, he felt her nimble fingers as they unfastened his buckles one at a time, making each of his breaths come more quickly than the last. He felt the loosening of his vest as it fell open over his bare chest exposing his skin to her, causing his jaw to clench. He felt her warm sensuous hands slide inside his armor, carefully slipping it off his strong shoulders and guiding it down his arms, creating goosebumps that rippled over the surface of his warm skin. He heard his vest drop to the floor. She then turned her attention to his muscular shoulders, arms and hands. She slipped his gauntlets off, one at a time, then turned his large hands over inside her own. Seeing how brutalized they were, she let a seething breath escape between her teeth. Finally, she ran her hands over his smooth warm chest, checking for damage he presumed.

Then there was nothing, no touch, no sound save for the intermittent pops from the fire. Though he felt relieved, he also felt an incredible vacancy. His body already missing the sensations of her caress, yearning for more. Basch sat, almost desperately trying to regain control of his breathing.

After an extended pause he took one last tension releasing breath and slowly opened his eyes, his heart seized when he saw she was still right there, a mere two feet away. She was staring at him strangely, methodically wringing the hot damp rag between her hands. The firelight danced off her glittering eyes, and he was alarmed to see how utterly different her demeanor had become. There was longing in her eyes, actually, she looked downright hungry. Could it possible that she wants me? At that moment he became excruciatingly aware of the fact that he was half naked.

Uh oh.

The princess bit her lip and moved toward her knight in the chair. He sat unmoving, unblinking, watching her carefully.

"Almost done," she breathed and delicately brought the hot rag to Basch's forehead.

When the rag made contact with the re-opened scar above his left eye, he clenched his jaw and let his eyes flutter shut, but didn't utter a sound. His hand involuntarily reached out and gripped her wrist. He opened his eyes and saw her gazing intently back at him. Gingerly, she traced the line of the scar over his eye and her expression rippled, her face became saddened. He looked back at her, confusion gripping him. She slowly licked her bottom lip and his eyes flicked to her supple mouth, focusing on the glistening red skin there. Gently she rubbed the steaming cloth over his face, cleaning away the grime and dried blood. As she wiped over his lips his mouth opened slightly, and she too had her attention captured by the alluring shape of his mouth. The water dripped down her wrist and forearm, seeping down her bare midriff and the surface of his bare chest. She seemed to become hypnotized, watching the rag as it left a glistening trail over his skin. He tipped his head back slightly and she continued the sponge bath down his throat and over his shoulders.

This has gone much to far.

Time to take my leave...Just one more moment.

He heard a small crack in her knees as she knelt in front of him, continuing to wash his chest and stomach, gently cleaning his wounds. It was then that she firmly pushed a hand between his knees; his head snapped upright as she forced his legs open wider so she could slip her smooth body between his thighs, her knees cushioned by the soft braidwool rug.

"Majesty." He nearly choked, staring in wonder at the boldness of her advance.

As she moved, her rich beguiling scent wafted over him; the heady female smell of her wet skin sending a current directly into the core of his manhood. She lifted his strong hands and wiped each one of his fingers clean. Finally, she stopped moving and looked at him, her chest heaved, pushing her breasts against the damp fabric, fully giving away her state of arousal. Their eyes locked, each frozen in place with churning emotions. He had reached a point of desire for the seething woman before him that was almost excruciating.

From that point on Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg not longer thought clearly.

He broke the spell by reaching out gently, tentatively, and touching the edge of her jaw with the tips of his unsteady fingers. Ashe fell forward and began slowly kissing his bare chest and he let out an explosive breath he didn't even know he had held inside. She worked her mouth up his throat kissing, biting, feeling his pulse against her teeth. He let out a low moan, and she ripped her head up and pushed her lips against his. She kissed him deeply, wanting to feel his moans inside her mouth, wanting to taste him. He gripped the sides of his chair as she devoured him, kissing him wildly. His response was tentative at first, but his appetite for her lips and her tongue was roaring and he simply couldn't hold back. He breathed heavily against her face and moaned again, a deep, vibrating sound. His body drew her in again and she placed her mouth back to his strong, beautiful chest, kissing and titillating his skin with her silken eyelashes. He raised his hands and slipped his rough fingers into her smooth hair, pulling gently. Dipping her head, she made her way downward with her lips, leaving a moist trail down his tensed lower abdomen. She tugged down at the waistband of his shorts and kissed the blond velvety hair just under his belly button. His breath quickened sharply and he gave an accidental yank to her hair that was much rougher than he intended.

"Mag... Ashe!" He gasped, his heart thundering.

She halted with a small cry. They both froze for a moment as she rested the side of her face against his lap, then she sat back on her heels and looked at him, fingering the waistband of his shorts. He sat unmoving, watching her, breathing heavily.

Carefully, she began again, slipping her hands down Basch's thighs to his calves. She unfastened and pulled off his leather boots, one followed by the other. Then she slid her hands slowly up the inside of both his thighs, she gazed at him and saw that he looked more watchful than alarmed and this helped to melt away her concerns. She flattened her hands on the chair between his legs and pushed herself up to give him a slow, sweet, heated kiss. He felt her tongue enter his mouth and he responded, kissing her back gently, sensually, deeply. He lifted one hand to her face holding it, with the other he gently cupped her breast in his palm and gently kneaded her warm, supple flesh.

With a deep gutteral sound, his strong hands suddenly lifted her whole body up and he sat her squarely on top of his lap. She sat facing him, panting hard. Together, they rid her of her constricting chest armor, almost fighting with each others hands in their urgency. Once she was naked for him, he stopped and gazed at her beauty full on. He let his eyes travel over her body and she was amazed to discover she felt only beautiful in his eyes, not shy at all. A look passed over his face then, clouded with uncertainty. By the Gods what am I doing!?

Oh no you don't.

She wanted to make him know this was good, it was what she wanted. She wanted to wash away any doubts that he had. She leaned down, took his face in both her hands and turned it up toward her. Then she looked at him very carefully, holding his eyes with her own.

She smiled.

His mouth hinted at a smile in return, as he closed his eyes and buried his face in her neck kissing her gently at first, then hungrily. She wrapped both hands into his shaggy blond hair and pushed her toes against the stone floor to lift her bottom off his lap. He immediately took the opportunity to unfasten his pants and shimmy them down his hips, as she lowered herself back onto him he sat back in the chair receptively, chest heaving, openly showing his desire. He looked down at her bared legs, grabbed her behind her knees and pulled her legs roughly toward and into him, opening her thighs around his hips. She grabbed on to the back of the chair for support as he pushed his hands firmly up the inside of her thighs. This time it was her turn to gasp as he suddenly ripped and removed her silky undergarments in one quick motion.

Grasping her firmly around the back of her thighs he pulled her even closer. She panted, bracing herself for his strong body. She felt him very close but he didn't move for several long moments, he simply stared into her face and held her hips in place with his incredibly strong hands, his thumbs digging into her skin. Ashe dropped her forehead to his scarred shoulder in frustration biting him there, breathless with anticipation. He stroked her then for a moment before he suddenly gripped her by the hips, pulling her closer. She cried out and tensed up, raking deeply into his back with her nails, but he pushed through her resistance and moaned into her hair.

At times their lovemaking was fierce, with Ashe gasping at the almost unbearable pleasure.

When she at last reached her pleasure threshold, he watched her, enraptured with every second of her experience before allowed himself to do the same. He groaned loudly and leaned into her chest, drops of his sweet sweat splashing onto her collar bone. He sat holding her and panting, when suddenly, the pain in his head came roaring back tenfold. He slipped with her in his arms to the floor and he rolled away from her and onto the braidwool rug, moaning and holding his head.

"Oh, Basch, I am so sorry." She panted breathlessly, sliding up beside him, cautiously touching his forehead and asked "is there anything I can get you?"

He peeked at her with one eye, then let it fall closed again. He lay there motionless for several long moments, and she was about to ask again when he answered.

"Aye, I would care to have some of that soup... Highness." He laid there smiling softly, both eyes closed.

She smiled and pulled herself from his side, dressed quickly, and went about getting him some soup, cool water and a healing potion. Upon her return, she found him still mostly naked and laying flat on his back, snoring softly.

"Basch?" She crouched down and reached out to shake him slightly. "Basch?" He showed no sign of responding, he simply sprawled there in an unpretentious spread-eagle fashion. She laughed gently and shook her head, setting his untouched dinner on the table, then she grabbed a nearby blanket and knelt down to cover him.

"Sweet dreams." she whispered fondly, kissing his still flushed cheek.