At noon, the Balfonheim sun glints on the water like diamonds, almost too blinding to look at directly. But Ashe does anyway. She leans on the windowsill of Reddas' mansion, heart heavy despite the rising dawn. The hour draws near, the words toning in her head over and over with the heavy sound of a bell for days now. The Sun Cryst is destroyed, but the cost is nearly overpowering. She had known Reddas but a short time and his role at Nabudis had been the cause of her greatest tragedy, but still...She cannot help but feel grief for her newest ally, her newest friend. Such death, she thinks, Over and over, without end...all for a stone. Walking in this now-hollow house where Reddas once lived, Ashe feels her resolve to save her country and indeed, all of Ivalice strengthened anew.
"If only this infernal waiting would end," she laments to a nearby bust of an anonymous old man. Just over the horizon, not very far at all overland, waits Vayne Solidor. He waits for me, she thinks, her restless feet carrying her from the library to points unknown. She walks without seeing, instead letting her body carry itself until she finds herself on the street walking toward the border where Balfonheim gives way to the Cerobi Steppes beyond. Then she realizes: she is going to the Strahl.
Ashe takes over, letting her mind wander as the grass brushes her legs in soft swishing strokes. Between her mind and her body, it appears she can only fully control one or the other. She releases her mind like a kite into the breeze and marches swiftly up the Strahl's ramp and into the ship's interior.
She notices a dull clanging sound echoing in the ship's corridors as soon as she is out of the prairie winds. She follows the sound curiously until she finds her way to a gaping hole in the floor of the ship. A floor panel has been set aside and the clanking is rising up from it. Ashe leans over the hole and sees faint movement beyond.
"Fran, the wrench."
Ashe freezes. She peers around her at the tools that lie scattered around the floor. The wrench? She picks up a potential candidate and hands it down the hole.
More clanking and then a disgusted sigh. Rustling in the hole precedes Balthier as he pulls himself up out of the hole. "Did the wrench grow legs and walk away?" he says as he stands up, "Or did you forget...oh." He nods in greeting, "It seems it was not the wrench but my assistant that grew legs and walked away." He is wearing old oil-stained clothes in place of his normally elegant garb and with good reason; his face is as streaked with oil as are the clothes. Ashe cannot help but notice the clothes leave his arms and chest quite bare. She looks away hastily.
"I apologize," she says, gesturing to the tools on the floor, "I am not familiar with... Well, I did not know to which one you were referring."
Balthier notices her flightly gaze and looks pleased. "I can't very well repair my ship in my good shirt, can I? Should I slip into something more decent?"
"I...No, you..." Ashe stammers and finally settles on, "Do as you wish. It is not my place to judge."
"In that case," Balthier picks up the wrench off the floor and shows it to her, "This is the one I need. Would you mind if I return to my ship?" She gestures vaguely and he accepts it as a yes. She watches as he jumps back through the floor and resumes his clanking.
Ashe stands in confusion for a moment, unsure of whether she should leave or stay. Finally, with nothing better to do, she sits down near the edge of the hole where she can see Balthier where he works. It briefly occurs to her that he might suspect ulterior motives for her placement there, but she dismisses them. After all, what does she care what he thinks?
"When will we leave this place?"
"As soon as the leader deems it time to go," Balthier replies without looking up.
"I wasn't aware we have a leader."
"That is what the leader always says, if she is a good one."
Ashe considers this. "You think I am the leader?"
"Who else? This is your quest, princess. The rest of us are just riding along on the winds you stir up."
"I thought we all worked together."
"Do you not wish to be leader?"
"No. Not of this group. I wish us to be equal."
"But it is good practice, no?"
"Practice?"
He looks up at her, a note of mischief in his glance, "Practice for your next job, of course." He notices her long silence, "You are still planning on regaining your throne, are you not?"
"Of course!" Ashe replies indignantly, "Do you doubt it?" Balthier shrugs noncommittaly. Ashe watches him as he works. He moves with such careless grace, even when he is covered in oil, she observes. The events at the top of the Pharos seem to have had no effect on him. He even hums a little as he works, sporadically, like music drifiting in on the breeze. But Ashe cannot believe he feels no remorse at the passing of his father. The memory of her own father's death is still painful when she allows it to surface. And not only did Balthier's father die, but he, all of them, they...
She does not allow herself to trespass into those thoughts. They did what was necessary, the next logical step in what has turned into a quest to save all of Ivalice, instead of just the tiny desert country in the middle that she happens to be responsible for. Still, seeing Balthier's face now keeps the image of him then fresh in her mind. The hopeless sadness in his eyes as he spoke to his father for the last time... Can he really heal his emotional wounds that quickly?
She wonders what it would be like to live as he does, to be free of all connections and expectations the world tries to saddle you with. But then she is forced to wonder, would she give up those responsibilities which are her birthright for freedom?
"You seem deep in thought, princess," Balthier says, "I am able to lend an ear if you would like to unload your troubles."
"My troubles are not the sort that can be unloaded."
"Suit yourself, princess."
"...Balthier?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you ever tire of the title you carry? The expectations it brings to you?"
He chuckles, "Which title is that?"
"Sky pirate."
"'Tis a mark of pride to me, princess. What expectations would I tire of when they are all ones I have brought upon myself?"
"Just because you bring expectations on yourself does not mean you cannot tire of them."
He considers this. "True enough." A pause and then, "I return the question to you, princess."
She falters a bit, then answers, "I give the same answer as you. I look forward to my choices."
"Forgive me, princess, but you are lying."
"Says the thief among us."
"Have I ever lied to you?"
"...Not that I know of."
"You wound me! I have never lied! It is against my nature. Hand me that screwdriver, the long skinny one near your knee."
She does so. "Forgive me. I do not mean to be so spiteful. But how can I tire of the choices I've brought upon myself?"
"You hold yourself at such high regard, princess, are you not afraid of vertigo? Of course, the choices you make can bring about results that you wish you did not have. But unless you bitterly regret those results, I would not consider it wrong to doubt your chosen path once in a while. It is human nature, after all."
"So you believe I am allowed to wish for something else?"
"As long as it does not consume your being." He glances up at her, "What is it you wish for? If you'll forgive my impertinence."
She is silent, rolling his question over in her mind. "Love," she says finally.
"Love? Can a princess not have that?"
"It was mine once, a love that I thought would last forever. Rasler and I, we loved for such a short time, but it was enough to stay with me." She absently rubbed the spot on her finger where her wedding ring had been. The gesture did not escape Balthier's notice. "Now he is gone. How was I to know we were not to last? And now, I have nothing to remember him by."
"What nothing? You have memories."
"We'd talked of children...of our children's children."
"Ah."
"I'm sorry. This is all more than you wanted to hear."
"I will listen to anything you have to say, princess, if you will forgive the fact that a sky pirate such as myself has little experience in these matters."
"Do you? How old are you, Balthier?"
He laughs, "How old do you think I am?"
"...Old enough to have thought about the future."
"A diplomatic answer. Just what I expected from you."
"Do you not want a family? Will you not settle down one day?"
"A sky pirate without a sky? What would that make me?"
"You would become a husband. A father. Part of a family."
"I had not considered such a life for myself. I do not think I would make a good father, to be honest."
"You think so?"
"I had a poor role model."
"Oh." She is quiet, watching and listening once more. "My mother died when I was young. I have no role model of motherhood and yet, I do not doubt my capabilities. I do not think a role model is essential to being a good parent."
He puts down his tool and looks up at her, his gaze steady. She notes the amusement in his eyes a tad too late to brace herself. "Are you proposing we start a family, princess?"
"I...No, nothing of the sort!" She scoots back from the hole, distancing herself from the accusation. "We are discussing; I was merely volunteering my opinion."
Balthier laughs, but does not reply otherwise. The conversation trails off, giving way to Balthier's clanking tools. Ashe peers into the hole. "What are you doing, exactly?"
"Exactly? That is a dangerous question," Balthier replies, "But I am repairing the Strahl's glossair rings. You are welcome to come see for yourself."
"Down there?"
"You can't very well see from up there."
She considers, then throws her legs over the edge of the hole. With a little sigh, she pushes herself off and lands unsteadily on the grate below. Balthier holds out a steadying hand and she takes it, her feet stinging a little from the impact.
"I didn't think you would really come down," he remarks, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Then you thought wrong," she retorts, glad for the opportunity to contradict his expectations like this. She feels suddenly playful, receptive to Balthier's usual teasing comments. She smiles coquettishly at him and moves past to the wall of dials and pipes that he was working on. "Explain it to me then."
"If your grace commands," he replies and sets to pointing out the various mechanisms, using the screwdriver as a pointer. She is very aware of him as he speaks and after a few moments, finds it very hard to pay attention to his words. The space is not large and he stands right behind her, almost in an embrace. She can smell his cologne mingled with the scents of the ship, a strange combination, but not unappealing somehow.
She rests a hand on his bare arm, feeling the muscles move under his skin as he gestures. He pauses at her touch, waiting for her cue. She turns to face him. "Balthier," she says, meeting his eyes with her own, "Would it be reckless to ask a favor of you?"
"That depends on the favor," he says.
"Kiss me."
His eyebrows raise in surprise, "What?"
"Kiss me. Please," she adds as an afterthought.
"You are serious," he chuckles lightly, disbelievingly.
"Yes."
He pauses briefly, then opens his mouth to speak. But before anything comes out, there are footsteps and clatter from above. Balthier looks away and when he looks back, Ashe has ducked out from his proximity and is looking up at the hole.
"Vaan, you said he was in here!"
"He was! Fran sent me to help. She wouldn't lie, would she?"
"Vaan and Penelo," Balthier says softly, studying Ashe. She looks slightly embarrassed. He brushes her cheek softly. "Later," he says, "We will continue this later." This heartens her a little, but her cheeks are still red as he laces his fingers into a step and helps her pull herself back to the main area of the ship.
"Ashe," Penelo remarks, "What are you doing here? Is Balthier..."
"On my way," he remarks as he pulls himself up. "So, how can I offer my assistance to the the young sky pirates in training?"
"Vaan wants to go follow that mark that we picked up last week," Penelo says, "The one in the Lhusa Mines?"
"You can't tell me you don't want to go, too," Vaan interrupts, "They say it's Gilgamesh. I hear the rewards are unbelievable!"
"You aren't the only one on this ship, Vaan. You have to consider what other people want."
"I am considering! I'm sure no one would mind some new gear. Considering what's coming up..."
Following the sounds of the voices, Basch appears in the corridor, considering his friends with mild interest. "We are discussing our plans?"
"More or less," Balthier says, "It's a rather one-sided conversation at this point."
"Vaan wants to go chase after more marks," Penelo explained, "What do you think, Basch?"
"I say it depends on what Lady Ashe wants to do," Basch said simply. Over the clamor from Vaan and Penelo that results, Balthier leans over toward Ashe and whispers, "Defer to the leader, wouldn't you say?" Ashe frowns at him and moves away.
Finally, Balthier interrupts the other conversations in a loud, clear voice, "Well, Princess. It would seem you are the decision-maker. Where will you turn these wayward sails?"
Ashe stares heavily at him, sure that his question is further proof of his teasing nature. Yet she sees the truth in his words. She lifts her chin, "We will prepare ourselves and confront Vayne as soon as we are ready. It is time we end this war."
To Ashe's slight disappointment, everyone agrees with little debate, even Vaan, who had his heart set on acquiring new treasure. She sees now what Balthier meant when he called her the leader. Perhaps because she is royalty, or even because, she worries, that she is overbearing at times... Whatever the reason, somewhere over the past eight months, she unofficially nominated herself as in charge. She sighs helplessly; little can be done about it now, after all.
The Strahl clears quickly after the decision is made. Vaan and Penelo chase each other off to some other part of Balfonheim. Ashe follows their lead, wishing to be alone for a while more than anything now. She glances at Balthier as she turns to leave, flashing him a look of indeterminate meaning. He merely smiles brightly at her, as if nothing had changed between them.
At length, Balthier is left alone with Basch, who leans against the corridor wall in silent contemplation. Balthier and Basch have never been on friendly terms. Balthier does not dislike him; he and the former knight are simply too different, in his own opinion. He nods amiably to to Basch and bends to return to his work when Basch says, "She likes you."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Lady Ashe. She likes you."
Balthier's only reply with a look that shows he was already quite aware of this fact.
"You knew?"
"I had an inkling."
"I understood you to be aloof."
"I am many things, but aloof to women is not one of them, I assure you."
"What will you do about it?"
Balthier considers the question, "I have yet to decide, to be honest. The matter has just recently come to a head and so I have not given it serious consideration."
"You will be careful, of course."
"Careful? I do not believe 'careful' is in my character description. I will not cause the princess intentional harm, but when one plays with the fire of attraction, one must take a risk, don't you think?"
"I meant for you," Basch straightens and prepares to leave, "I do not profess to be an expert on you, but you should know by now that Lady Ashe is restricted by many things." He frowned slightly at Balthier's amused reaction, "Must I be more clear? She cannot be with you in the end."
Balthier could not even try to hide his mirth. "Are you warning me not to fall in love with the woman?"
Basch says nothing. He rests a hand on Balthier's shoulder briefly, gives him a look and leaves. Balthier frowns, lost in faint surprise and confusion. He'd never been warned against caring too much for a woman. It is simply not his way. His first reaction is to scoff at the warning. But something gives him pause and instead, he shakes his head and returns to the glossair rings.
