Um... second in the "Bad Day series"? Started with Balthier's Bad Day... and now it is Ashe's...

This is dedicated to Wolfsbane706 who liked the first story so much they said it deserved a sequel. While I am not sure if this story came up to snuff, I tried :s. Hopefully it's okay. Sorry. Really tired right now, perhaps if it is unliked I will edit it later...


Ashe pivoted neatly on the toe of her red combat boot, whipping her rapier at a hyena that meant to put her on its dinner menu. Basch, chivalrous as usual, flung himself in the path of yet another hyena, swinging his greatsword in a glittering arc that promised death. The point thudded into a muddy hole in the rain-ridden Giza Plains, next to its victim's head.

"You have my thanks," Ashe said, nodding slightly and stroking his arm with Cure laden fingers where a lucky canine fiend had sunk its fangs into his flesh. She failed to notice Penelo's eyes and wild gestures until too late; by then, the huge ball of lightning was already bearing down upon her, crackling with magick.

It felt as if a fist of thunder punched her in the face. It enveloped her in magick that bound her tongue and froze her voice, rendering her unable to even make any semblance of a vocal sound. Basch, once again, hurled himself into the maelstrom heroically to drag her out, and holding her as he would a newlywed bride, dashed away across the plains with Penelo hot on her heels. In the meantime, the Storm Elemental meandered away, as if pleased with its mischief for the day.

"Wow," Penelo slipped on a bangle containing a Libra spell within, examining the Princess critically. "It Silenced you really well, Ashe. I thought you knew that Elementals didn't like magick. You shouldn't have used Cure so close to it."

"I do not believe she knew of its close proximity to our location," Basch replied, setting a thoroughly embarrassed Ashe on her feet. The Princess scowled angrily at the Elemental, as if she could command it through regal will alone, but it continued its zigzagging course along a distant bridge, unaffected. "In any case, I would recommend that our best course of action from this point would be to return to our camp. The last thing that we need is to get sick," he said prudently. Penelo did not argue with him; she was sick of being soaked to the skin and cold as ice. The sensation was welcome at first, but it soon became boring. Ashe could not complain either.


Back at the camp, they found Vaan, Fran, and Balthier huddled under an outcropping of rock, a fire sputtering just under the overhang, out of the rain. Vaan and Balthier were soaking wet; hair and clothes plastered to faces and bodies, and the sky pirate was asleep by the fire, so close he was almost in it. He looked exhausted, even in sleep; his lips were parted slightly, and a faint snore rumbled in his throat. Vaan shivered under a thin blanket, while Fran merely stoked the fire.

"Vaan, what happened?" Penelo bounded over to her best friend, struggling with the blanket to rub him dry.

"Nothing! Just got really rained on in a fight, that's all. Was hit with a Water Ray from an ichthon and—" Vaan blustered, blushing.

"He fell into one of the many streams formed by the heavy rains." Fran explained. "Balthier had to dive in to rescue him, and that is why they are so wet."

"You didn't have to put it that way," Vaan mumbled, slumping into his blanket. "What's wrong with Ashe?" He watched Ashe brood silently, a quizzical, blank look on his face.

"Silence," Penelo elaborated.

"Come here," Fran said, fishing in her bag for an Echo Herb. "I would offer you the cure." However, Vaan, forgetting how cold and wet he was, jumped up, narrowly avoiding stomping on Balthier's face. The pirate snored on, unaware of how close his handsome face had come to being maimed.

"Oh! Oh! I just learned how to do a Vox spell! Can I try? Please?" He jumped up and down, splashing mud everywhere. Ashe shook her head.

No, she prayed. Please, let it be anything but that!

Unfortunately, the gods were toying with her, and Vaan began the first part to his Vox spell. It actually started out okay—Fran was nodding, perhaps even smiling, then—

It was as if she were being punched once more, this time with a huge fist wrapped in velvet. It was not as painful as the initial spell, but she certainly felt the Silence spell strengthen.

"Huh," Vaan muttered, examining the runny ink written on his palm. Ashe stared at him, horrified. "Oh, I see, it says… I don't know what it says."

"You wrote the Vox spell on your palm? Who gave it to you?" Penelo squawked.

"A beggar in Lowtown," he mumbled, sitting back down. "Seems like a bogus spell. Er… sorry, Ashe."

Ashe took the Echo Herbs from Fran, swallowing, but to her horror, did not feel the spell fade at all. Three sprigs of herb later, her voice was still as bound as a bird in a cage. She could feel the tears, hot and angry behind her eyes; they said the spell would wear off in an hour—she wanted it off now!

"I have a solution," surprisingly, Basch spoke up. "It is a technique we used often in the field for stubborn spells. The victim of the spell is subjected to a Shear technik from a comrade in order to reduce their resistance to magick, while a Faith-boosted caster gives the counter spell." It was a surprisingly good idea, coming from a man who used little to no magick on a regular basis.

"Let's try," Penelo said. "Does anybody know the Shear technik?"

No one said a word, then all eyes turned to Balthier, slumbering fitfully by the fire. Fran stroked a waterlogged strand of hair away from his eyes absently.

"Balthier always prided himself for his sleight of hand and skill at techniks. Come, my partner, awake. We have need of you," she whispered, but he only groaned and rolled over. Frustrated, Ashe marched over to him, and before she could be restrained, kicked him in the stomach with her red boot. Balthier grunted, his eyes flying open, and curled up into a ball, wheezing in pain.

"What," he gasped, "in Heth's name, was the meaning of that, Princess?" he glared up at her balefully, coughing and clutching his stomach.

"We need you to use a Shear technik upon her," Basch explained. "I apologize in advance for her behavior, you must understand—"

"Why should I do anything for her? The she-bat just kicked me!" Balthier exploded. Then a sly look came into his eyes, a faint green flicker within them signaling that he had activated Libra. "Silence? Ah… the gods still wreck vengeance upon you for our little tryst a few weeks ago. Remember when you blinded and silenced me, Princess? Ah, revenge is so sweet." Her white face coloring, Ashe planted the pointed toe of her boot in Balthier's manhood. The man curled into a tight ball, a thin groan escaping his lips.

"Oh, man up, Balthier," Vaan said cheerfully, patting the pirate's shoulder.

"I am a man, Vaan, and that's why it hurts!" Balthier snarled. "And now, Princess, that really wasn't much incentive for me to help you, though I may receive another kick for my pettiness." He rolled to his feet and limped a little distance away. Ashe wrung her hands angrily, and stomped her foot like a petulant child.

"Please, Balthier. You are the only one who knows Shear—you must help us!"

"Shear?" the pirate stroked his chin. "Ah… I could enjoy this. Very well, I consent." He smiled a cat-at-the-cream smirk.

"What does this technik entail, exactly?" Penelo asked warily. Balthier glanced toward Fran.

"Start casting Faith on yourself, would you? Besides Ashe, you are the only one who can cast Vox, yes? As for your question, Penelo, wouldn't you like to see for yourself?"

The next thing they knew, the pirate curled his fingers into a tight fist and punched Ashe in the jaw, with a sound akin to shattering glass. The Princess stumbled back—Penelo covered her mouth, Vaan made a surprised exclamation, and Basch nearly threw himself at the pirate, who quickly danced out of range and toward Ashe.

"You see, it is normally against my moral code as a gentleman to punch a lady," Balthier said, tracing a finger filled with cure along a bruise under her chin. The angry purple color faded, though the Princess herself turned the brilliant color of the setting sun. "But you asked me to. Therefore, you have no one to blame but yourselves."

Fran shook her head as she formulated a Vox spell (a correct Vox spell this time), and cast it upon the Dalmascan princess, preparing herself for the tirade that would soon follow. However, there was none. She merely stood alone, wilting in the rain.

"I thank you, for your efforts to help me," she croaked. "I suppose I might have deserved that punch." Balthier blinked in surprise. "However," she continued in a stronger voice, "You do realize that this means that I am now entitled to vengeance, perhaps?"

And thus was the start of a vicious cycle.