Chapter 2
Ashe's heart slammed against her chest like a war hammer. She felt as though Haste had been cast upon her and she was powerless to dispel it. Standing before her was . . . Balthier Bunansa! Was it truly him or was this a trick of her mind? Ashe had not seen him since that dreadful day when The Bahamut fell. Had it not been for Balthier and Fran, Rabanastre would have been destroyed. Ashe shuddered as the memory of that day replayed in her mind. She would never forget seeing The Bahamut burn . . . knowing that Balthier was still on board. She would never forget how she clutched the communicator and begged him not to die. Her heart would never forget the agony of that day. The feeling of loss still overwhelmed her, and Ashe felt her vision blur with tears. Losing someone you care about . . . it is an unbearable agony, one she had been forced to endure far more than her fare share of times. However, by some favor of the gods, neither Balthier nor Fran had perished that day. Although Ashe knew that Balthier had survived-- due to the note he had left with Vaan -- she was never fully able to believe it until now.
Ashe's sight washed over him . . . she was not hallucinating. It truly was Balthier! But what in Ivalice was he doing! How had he gained entry into the palace? Why was he here now? Dozens of questions plagued her mind, but Ashe had not the strength to voice them. Even as her heart rate relaxed, Ashe still remained incapable of doing anything but stare.
Balthier simply stood before her, the candlelight playing upon his features . . . he was devastatingly handsome. His appearance had barely altered since last he left her sight. Balthier frisked his fingers through his short bronze hair; every blade was perfectly groomed and stood flawlessly in place. Ashe's gaze caressed the smooth line of his jaw down to the collar of his shirt. His style of attire was also similar to how it had been during their past adventures; although he had, of course, updated a few accessories to keep up with the latest fashions. She took quick notice that Balthier still flaunted those tight leather pants . . . she had certainly not forgotten about those. His clothing alone was fine, but Balthier made them look incredible. Never before had a white dress shirt and vest looked so debonair. Balthier's clothing was not the only constant: he exhibited that same cocky smirk that he had worn with each proclamation of his Leading Man title.Only right now he seemed smugger still: he had caught her. She was packing. He had discovered that she was not really ill. Ashe clenched her jaw, suave as he was, this pirate had broken into her home! She wanted to be furious with him! Angry that he had entered uninvited! Irate that he had snuck up behind her! Infuriated that he had waited two years to seek her out! Her blood pressure rose, but alas, she could not remain angry.
After all this time . . .
Ashe unconsciously grazed a finger over Rasler's wedding band; the one Balthier had worn for more than a year. She always wore it atop her own band. She did not know why Balthier had stayed away, but gods knew, she had missed him. Balthier had become a true friend throughout their journey to defeat Vayne. Over the past year she had accepted the possibility that his face was not meant for her eyes again. Accepted it yes, but that did not mean she did not wish circumstances were different.
Balthier took a ginger step forward, and bowed his head. "My queen. It is good to see you again." His eyes shone with sincerity.
Ashe swallowed hard, her throat suddenly dryer than the Westersands. She wanted to ask him where he had been? Why he had not written a second note? If he had ever thought about her, as she did so often about him? But, instead she settled for: "Balth-Balthier?"
"Ah, splendid! You remember me then. I was beginning to think you had forgotten me, and that would have been too much for my heart to endure," he winked, dramatically laying a hand over his chest.
Ashe could not help but match his smile. "I am glad to see you too, Balthier. Gods know your well-being has been in each of my nightly prayers. Only, I must ask: why are you here?" Balthier held her gaze, she felt as though he peered inside her most intimate thoughts. Struggling, Ashe lowered her head, breaking their interlocked sight. He was bold, always making personal eye contact; and when he stared at her with such openness . . . she felt defenseless. And defenseless was the one thing Ashe could not risk becoming.
"I heard you were deathly ill," Balthier raised a curious eyebrow. "I wanted to see you. Fran did too, of course. But one of us needed to distract the guards, and, she is much better than I at distracting the attentions of men." His eyes flicked toward her traveling bag. "Your highness, is everything alright? Clearly you are not ailing, and I wonder: why the lies? And, furthermore, where are you planning to go?"
Ashe sighed; so far she had confessed her secret only to her lead counsel members, Lord Larsa, and Basch. But now Balthier was here and she did not feel as though she could lie to his face. She exhaled wearily and plopped down on her bed, then motioned for him to join her. Bold stares were not his only personal forte; Balthier sat close enough for their thighs to touch.
"Your highness?" his voice was soothing, like the first warm breeze of spring.
Ashe allowed herself to indulge in the sincere depth of his eyes. "Though I am not in the dire states described, I am truly not well either, Balthier. I have . . ." she hesitated, nerves causing her lips to quiver. She had best tell him everything now. "I have been visited by a vicious demon . . . an Occurian of sorts. . ." her voice began to tremble. Balthier nodded gently, encouraging her to continue. "This demon has no known name. It visits me in every dream. I have not had a peaceful rest in a month's time. But now it does threaten me in the light of day as well. I believe it is Occurian because it spews words of revenge for my past disobedience. It has possessed my judgment several times. These times have been fleeting as I have fought hard to battle it away. Soon, however, I fear it will possess my whole being irreversibly. I weaken with each passing moment, Balthier. The Occurian heeds I give in, thus causing its entry into my body an easy one. Of course, I will not surrender my body . . . not when I know it plans to see Dalmasca in ruins. If it gains control over my mind and body the consequences will be horrible for my country. I must avoid using the Mist, for as it seeps into me the Occurian is better able to twist me, my thoughts are becoming mutilated. Before long I will not be in control of myself."
Balthier frowned doubtfully; this was not the reaction Ashe had expected. "Your highness, are you sure? I have not seen or heard of any malice actions by you."
"I am certain, Balthier. I do not know why or how this happens, but every morning I become more corrupt. My thoughts explore terrible, dark places . . . I see myself brining the terror in my thoughts to life. I am powerless to stop myself from these sinful actions."
Balthier shook his head slowly, not completely following what Ashe was referring too. "What actions?"
"This," Ashe pulled back the sleeve of her cloak – beneath, her entire forearm was wrapped in a bandage. "I cut myself last week. Deeply. I could not stop no matter how I screamed in pain. That is not all, I attacked Basch. Violently. Without warning or reason I cast Blizzaga upon him as he came to visit me and wish me well!" Ashe hung her head in shame, unable to meet Balthier's startled eyes. "Basch is alright, thank the gods. But I cannot be around him. I do not trust myself. Listen close, Balthier, for there is more: I tried to hurt Larsa as well; the boy had to disable me. I am hardly able to regain control of myself after the demon takes me now! I am dangerous. The voice inside my head compels me to harm those I care for most. It seeks to bring ruin to my country! I am unfit to rule until I can save myself from this evil."
Balthier closed his eyes; he seemed to be rolling her grave confession over in his mind. Ashe watched him, her heart still from suspense: would he despise her? After a moment Balthier turned to her, wordlessly commanding her full attention. "I have already lost one person I cared for to the Occurian swine, I will not lose another," he took her hand; his touch sent a comforting warmth rushing through her. "Your highness, I volunteer my services to your aid once more."
"No!" Ashe yanked her hand from his and bolted upright. "It is far too dangerous to even be in my company!"
He joined her standing, a small smile fluttering over his lips. "I am a big boy, your highness. I can take care of myself. Where is our destination?"
Ashe glanced at her travel satchel, it was spilling with camping gear, hi-potions, and clothing. Danjuro, her favorite sword, lay next to the satchel. "I go where I must, Balthier. Thanks to Larsa's intelligence I seek another great power, an Esper who can combat my foe. This Esper is allegedly able to silence Occurian voices."
Balthier frowned skeptically. "How does Larsa know of such an Esper? In all my travels I have not heard any word of such a being."
"It has to be true!" Ashe snapped, a little too harshly. "Balthier, it is my only hope."
Balthier reached out, placing a mild grip on Ashe's shoulder. Again, she found his touch soothing. Ashe continued, hoping that Balthier would not remove his hand: "The Esper is a secret Archadian legend. The late Emperor Gramis concealed the record of its existence, fearing that Vayne might seek it out. It would have been a devastating addition to his arsenal. Larsa alone was trusted with the knowledge. This Esper was once wielded by the ancient Archadian king, Tunlius, who used it to save Archades from ruin during the Pon-Newtus wars. Because of the Espers tremendous power Tunlius sealed it away in a hidden tomb, praying that it never become common knowledge. The tomb is located south of the Archadian river. Larsa has trusted me with the incantation necessary to free the Esper. It will be a trying battle to earn the Esper's obedience." Ashe sighed. "In any case, I begin my journey toward the tomb tonight. Balthier, you can understand why Ivalice need believe me ill. No one can know where I go. Occurrences here, in my capital city, need to proceed normally. Basch is here now; temporarily overseeing my counsel. The only error in this plan is that Larsa is now without Basch's constant watch. Those loyal to Vayne have not been completely cleared way, I worry that Larsa may become a target without Basch to deter potential threats."
"No worries then," Balthier removed his hand from Ashe; she quickly masked her disappointment. "I shall have Fran stay with Larsa. She can fly to Archades tonight. Fran is just as competent a warrior as our good Basch, if not more so with her heightened senses."
"That would settle my worries, Balthier. Thank you. Next to Basch, there is no one I would trust more than Fran."
"Next to me, of course."
Ashe smiled, remembering how much she enjoyed his charms. "Balthier, my trust in you does not require words."
"And I am flattered, your highness," he dipped his head in respect. "So then, it is settled. I shall have Fran keep watch over Larsa; Basch will oversee duties here; and I shall accompany you on this journey. . . I assume you want to leave Vaan and Penelo out of this one? For their own good?"
"Yes, they can not be around me," Ashe hesitated. "And I am still not feeling safe about you coming along . . . this evil in me . . . it comes and goes like the Giza winds. I do not trust myself not to harm you, Balthier. Or to harm anyone, for that matter."
"All the more reason why I need to go."
Ashe cocked an eyebrow, confused.
Balthier took the liberty of lifting up her sleeve to reveal her bandaged arm again. "Who is to stop you from harming yourself?"
"Do you not understand the gravity of this? I may cause you terrible pain! I cannot believe you would take up such a risk so freely."
"I accept the risks, m'lady," he smirked, "and my services come only with the fee of our continued friendship. How is that for a bargain?" she soaked in the image before her: Balthier grinning broadly, handsomely, and confidently . . . she knew that she enjoyed his free spirit. . .
. . . but within her the desire boiled to break him of it.
Ashe winced, managing to calm the evil yearning to a quite simmer. "Balthier, I will allow you to accompany me on one condition."
"Name it."
"If I should lose control and put you in harms path . . . you must stop me, Balthier. By any means necessary."
