This is a fanfiction inspired by my friend, Princess Ariabelle. We've had hour-long discussions about the qualities of FF12's characters, and I decided to make some short stories about Ashe and Balthier. Sort of an 'anything you can do, I can do better' thing.
I do not own FF12, its characters, ect.
Hail, Queenling
"It doesn't matter how well you can do things. I can do it better, and do it faster. Watch me."
-A certain Someone
The Ozmone Plains
Balthier led the way through the thick underbrush of the Ozmone Plain, an uncharacteristically broad smile lighting his handsome face. The whole party bore the wounds of battle against the Plain's vicious inhabitants. Ashe had twin cuts down her cheek, Basch limped as blood from a damaged Achilles tendon ran down his foot, Vaan was unconscious, dragged along by a sickly-looking Penelo, and Fran bore the marks of a viper's fangs.
"I don't see what you're smiling about. We may as well die out here." Ashe grumbled from her position just behind him. Balthier had not a scratch on him, and seemed perfectly healthy to boot. "Die? I should hope not. It would be a tragedy to make it this far and just die." Balthier replied with a chuckle. "Then stop grinning and actually fight. I'd wager that you wouldn't be smiling then." Ashe snapped, crossing her arms across her chest.
Balthier's eyebrows rose, taking in the unhappy princess's expression. "Is that a bet? Shall we see who can smile the most?" He asked, smirking. "No, but I'd bet that you couldn't use a sword. You always retreat as far as you can, and fire your little gun at the farthest monster. Your only use is to annoy people." Ashe answered snidely. She wasn't usually so irritable, but half the party wasn't usually near death, either.
"Deal. I'll use a sword, and you try to figure out mt gun." Balthier challenged, handing her the heavy gun and taking her sword from her hand. "What do I get when I win?" Ashe demanded, loading the gun. "When I win, I get to have one command." Balthier called back, adding an afterthought. "No restrictons." Ashe scowled after him, examining the gun with disdain.
All you have to do is aim and shoot. What's so difficult about it? Ashe thought, holstering it on her belt after flipping on the safety. Wouldn't want it to shoot and blast my leg off. She thought absently, dropping back to walk next to Basch. "I can heal that, if you want." She offered the struggling ex-knight. He smiled, albit grimly, and shook his head. "There are surely more beasts farther ahead. Save your energy." He explained before she could protest.
Ashe nodded, but walked next to him anyway. "I see you have traded weapons with the pirate." He noted. Ashe sighed, and explained their bet. "One command, with no restrictions? What if you lose?" Basch demanded, horrified. "I won't. I'll win, and get Rasler's ring back." Ashe replied confidently. Basch sighed in exasperation. There was nothing in the job description for being a Knight of Dalmasca about taking care of over-confident princesses.