Author's Note: Hooray for chapter three, eh:D I've got chapter four already done, but I'm not going to post it until I'm done with chapter five. I don't want to get behind and then never finish the story (it's happened before… --). That would be no good. This one's kind of short, at least I think so, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. As always, constructive criticism is appreciated, as well as ceaseless praise. :D
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII, or any other Final Fantasy for that matter, so please don't sue me. I do, however, own this story and you will be in trouble if I find it posted somewhere else without my permission. :(
Chapter Three: Those Same Old Lines
Ashe's eyes flutter open. The image of Balthier above her comes into focus and Ashe looks around in semi-confusion. She is lying on the ground with her head resting on Balthier's leg. He is shooing away a small crowd of onlookers. "Go on, then. There's nothing to see here."
He looks down and sees that she is awake. "Ah, good to see you back with us, Miss Amalia. I must say, your reaction to my return was very flattering indeed, though a bit… dramatic, don't you think?" Balthier takes Ashe's hand and helps her to her feet. "For how long was I unconscious?" Ashe asks, placing her free hand on her forehead to stop her internal spinning. "Only a few moments. Luckily, I was there to break your fall and save you from almost certain injury," Balthier declares triumphantly, throwing her a debonair smile and offering her his arm. Ashe rolls her eyes as she accepts it, and then chuckles a bit.
They make small talk as they stroll together towards the exit to the street, a small group of confused bystanders dispersing as they go.
--- --- ---
Ashe and Balthier take seats at a table in a sparsely occupied back corner of The Sandsea, Balthier setting down his pint and Ashe setting down her cup of hot tea. Ashe removes her cloak and pins her hair back into a bun, so as to further confuse anyone who might recognize her. A few plaits fall back forward, framing her face nicely. Balthier raises an eyebrow. "Why, Your Majesty, however did you know that I prefer a woman with an up do?"
Ashe rolls her eyes. "Oh, please. Well, I see you're just as suave as you ever were, and with the same result." Balthier raises both eyebrows in inquiry. "Oh? You're hopelessly in love with me, then?" Ashe smirks. "I think you're utterly ridiculous and I wonder that your lines ever really work with any woman."
Balthier places a hand over his heart in mock pain. "Such stinging words, Princess. You break my heart. Ah, but you are a princess no more, are you, Queen Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca? Or, should I say, Rozarria?" Ashe clearly hears the contempt with which he says the last word and she lowers her head slightly, looking into her tea. "No, it is still Dalmasca, though I am wed to the emperor of that region, as you have obviously heard." Of course he has heard. Don't be a fool, Ashe. She raises her head back up to meet his eyes and cheerfully says, "But, enough of me. Do tell me of your adventures these past years. I'm sure you've had many, but I have heard little. Have you come to Rabanastre with Vaan, Penelo, and Fran? I have long missed all of them. I would love to see them." Ashe takes a sip from her tea.
"Sorry to disappoint you, then, Majesty." Balthier sits back in his chair and places his hands behind his head. "Well, no doubt due to the excellent tutelage of yours truly, Vaan and Penelo developed into exceptional pirates and, after a number of very successful ventures, bought their own airship, went off on their own, and I haven't seen them since. That was about two years ago.
"As for Fran, a few days ago, she left me to travel with her sister, Mjrn. We happened to meet her in a weapons shop in Balfonheim. You remember Mjrn, don't you? Of course you do. Anyway, Fran was saying something about 'sisterly bonds' and 'protecting her from ill-intentioned humes' or some such nonsense." Balthier spoke nonchalantly, but Ashe could just make out the pain behind his eyes. "So, I, being left cruelly all alone, have come here to Rabanastre to follow some leads as to a very valuable treasure to be got somewhere in the Westersands. And such is my story." Balthier takes a swig from his pint of Dalmasca's finest ale.
Ashe gives him a sympathetic smile. "I am sorry Fran had to leave you. You must be lonely." Balthier waved off her concern with a flick of his wrist. "Nonsense. You need not concern yourself, Highness. Now," he leans forward onto the table, "you must tell me why in all of Ivalice you would ever marry that insufferable prat, Al-Cid Margrace."
Ashe laughs aloud. "You only find him insufferable because he reminds you too much of yourself!" A look of shock and disgust twists Balthier's usually debonair expression. "Bah! Me, like that foppish twit? I would never stoop to such… ridiculousness as that! How dare you compare me to someone such as him? Shame on you, Highness!" Balthier took another long swig from his pint.
Ashe chuckles as she looks down and stirs her tea. "Anyway, it is not important, really. He offered to lend aid to Dalmasca should I marry him, so I did what I must for my people. I have not even seen him in quite some time." Ashe sips her tea. "Balthier," Ashe says, hesitating before continuing, almost afraid to ask, "why did you never come to see me? I..." her voice trails off to a whisper, "…missed you very much."
Balthier smirks. "Why, Your Majesty, I am seeing you now." Ashe chuckles a bit and looks up at him. "But this was not your plan. Balthier, you know what I mean."
Balthier's brow furrows slightly as he leans back and takes another drink from his pint. He is silent for a moment, then looks up at her, his expression all seriousness. Ashe gasps a bit. Those eyes… I forgot how piercing those eyes could be…
"I would have, but I wasn't sure if you would have wanted to see me, Ashelia." Ashelia… Ashe's heart skips a beat. "After that night, I… Well, then you got married, so I thought it would be better that I stay away. Besides, I wouldn't set a foot down in Rozarria for all the gil in Ivalice, lest I should soil my shoes. I would never be able to get the stain out," Balthier tries to joke, but solemnly takes another drink.
Ashe looks down into her tea and lets her mind wander back to that night. That night…
