Hey ho! This chapter took a long time too! (Due to the fact I have cracked my rib and typing is painful.) This is also quite long. I wasn't entirely sure what to put in this one…I had to amend it so many times. This is the penultimate chapter, and I hope not too out of place. Enjoy.
UNATTENDING GUEST
There was a sound at the door. It was polite, soft but there was a rap to it that spoke noble.
Basch turned away and as he approached the door, there was another knock.
Male. This one was a confident loud-enough tap against the wood.
"Please…enter."
Larsa entered the room and his youthful face widened in shock.
"You're not ready, Basch?" asked the Emperor.
The Judge was standing in the centre of the room, more than surprised that the Archadian ruler was coming to see him. He had just showered (even several showers still hadn't managed to get the grime of Nabudis completely off him.) and the Emperor had walked in. Basch was only wearing his shorts.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. Basch should have been ready first and then he should have gone to Larsa's quarters to escort him to the party. He felt shamed.
"Forgive me….lord." he said, turning back round and heading to the far wall and three sets of clothing. "I was not aware the times had changed. I should have been prepared earlier."
"The times haven't changed, Magister." the handsome teen smiled. "The commencement of the ball will begin in fifteen minutes. As the ruler of Archadia, I expected to be one of the first announced before the Queen. I had been waiting for you…I did not expect to have to come here and see you still….lacking the proper attire."
"It is six-forty five in the evening?" Basch was dumbfounded. "I lost track of time completely! My apologises! I shall dress immediately!"
There was a pause that caused some concern for Larsa. He walked up behind Basch and when he too saw the clothes before him, Larsa had to chuckle softly to himself.
There were two sets of armour. One was his Judge set, polished and buffed to such an extent that the light was glaring off it in blinding flickers. The other, which was also cleaned and lovingly tended to, was his old Knight's armour, the set he wore when he was in the Order. Larsa could barely look at either of them, for as clean as they were, they glared just too much.
The third set of clothing was what it was. Clothing.
Black trousers, white shirt….formal, but not as formal as a tux. There was not a single crease to be seen and the boots that went with them were just as polished as his armour. Larsa thought it a good choice as Basch rarely wore anything like this. He would look smart, not frightening or imposing as he would with the armour.
"Is there a problem, Basch?"
"I er…." This stammer was uttered with genuine fear and it was not the apologetic or humble yammers when he tried to be decorous. "I think….maybe….no…there's no problem, my lord."
"Are you sure?" Larsa cupped his hands behind his back. "You're quite hesitant about something."
Basch's eyes were flickering to each set of clothes with worry.
"I don't know which one to adorn for the party." he said. "I know that I have been given a personal invitation, unlike some of the other royals or nobles' aides and servants, but I do not want to over step the bounds of my position. I should just put on my Judge's uniform…leave the helm?"
"Always leave the helm." Larsa stifled a chuckle. His closest advisor was behaving like a woman, fretting over appearance. "But why wear that? Yes, we agreed for you to escort me and be announced by your title, however…you are a guest as well."
"I should don my Dalmascan armour then…" Basch nodded. "It would show that I am still a Knight…but…"
"But?"
"It would only offend the other Archadians present."
"Erm…how?"
"You're right….no…I should wear my Judge's armour."
By the gods…was he shaking? Larsa couldn't believe the nerves of this man. He was falling to pieces over what to wear and this was not like Basch. Yet, this was not like any party or ball they had attended before. Basch had been invited. Personally. By Ashe.
"Ahhh! You're panicking…you're actually concerned as to how you appear before the Queen. Aren't you?" The cheeky grin couldn't falter from Larsa's face.
There was a "humph…no….not at all…" in response.
"You want to impress her!"
"Smartness is a sign of respect, my lord. I would not…."
"You want to look handsome for her! Leave the armour and go with the clothes."
"Handso….." Basch couldn't finish the word. Had Balthier said anything to Larsa since their arrival? Does the Emperor know what Basch had finally (and foolishly) admitted?
"Go with the clothes, my friend. Queen Asheila will be pleased to see you in something other than metal plates."
Larsa could imagine what was now running through this man's mind. Apart from the fear and dread that Basch could ever wear anything that wouldn't protect you against a fiend's razor sharp teeth, there was that battle to put up those barriers. Always those cold protective barriers over his emotions.
No. It wouldn't be right to please her like that. I am just a guest. I can't overstep my boundaries.
"No." Basch shook his head and staunched over in a humble posture. "It wouldn't be right to please her in such a manner. I am just a guest…I can't overstep my boundaries."
Spot on, thought Larsa. Well almost. Give or take a couple of words.
"In my opinion," said Larsa. "You would be fine with the clothes. It will allow you the chance to relax and be more at ease with the celebrations."
"I cannot."
"Why?"
"I would not feel comfortable in them."
"You find that black horrid armour comfortable?"
"Aye, lord."
He actually found those heavy screeching plates of armour bearable? Or was it because he was used to the discomfort it constantly offered it's wearer.
"Then go with the armour. Don't take the helm, but hurry with getting dressed. We should have been there by now."
"I shall be as quick as I can."
"That is good to know." Larsa turned to leave, but he paused at the door. He flicked some of his long hair out of his eyes and Basch did wish that the teen would tie it back or cut it. He looked too much like Vayne. "Oh, Basch…did you find the Queen a gift?"
Basch smiled.
"I did."
"Good. I shall see you outside."
Larsa walked out of the room, playing with the cuffs of his shirt. He didn't know how long he would have to wait.
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There was a sound at the door. This wasn't polite.
There was a hastiness and almost angry sound and vibration to it. It wasn't a couple of bouts against the wood, it was several pounds of frantic and determined whacks.
Female. Irritated and impatient. Youthful female.
"Come in, Penelo."
The door flew open and the young blonde woman rushed in, her face more worried than angry, but those glaring eyes certainly shot off furied stabs.
"Basch! Why aren't you ready?!" she screamed, the folds of her silver dress rustled loudly as her arms flayed about.
Basch had just put on his shin plates, boots and his shirt, and was now preparing to put on his chest piece. He stood looking at Penelo (so grown up and beautiful in her gown and her hair finally hanging loose.) as though there was no problem.
"It takes time to put on armour." he said. "There is a process…do it out of order and the sections will rub, pinch, scrape or poke any part of my anatomy. That is not pleasant, especially with the pieces around my…more delicate areas. Besides…I have time. I've got a few more minutes."
"Huh?!" Penelo shook her head, several curls of blonde hair flopped in her face. She brushed them away with an annoying flick of her hand. "Basch…what time is it?"
"Almost seven?"
"Try almost half past eight!" she screamed.
"That is not possible…" Basch said calmly. "I have to escort Larsa in through…."
"Larsa is already finishing off his main course!"
He had missed dinner?! Basch's mouth hung open in horror. How could so much time have passed with out him knowing?! He'd missed the entrance announcements, the speeches, the first dances (not that he danced), and no doubt all those little cocktail appetisers (with fresh Dalmascan fela and that cheese…) which always preceded the main course, would be gone. He liked those.
"Don't just stand there!" gasped Penelo lobbing a small sheath of metal at him. "Hurry!
"I can't wear that." said Basch handing her back the piece.
She threw it back at him, annoyed that he was being so picky.
"Put it on!"
He handed it back again.
"I cannot!"
"Why?!"
"It's not part of my armour. It's the coaster for the coffee table."
"Oh." Penelo looked at the round coaster and tried to think where she thought it could possibly have fitted on his armour, if it had been part of the ensemble. It wasn't big enough to cover anything. Penelo felt her cheeks burn, she cleared her throat and once again flicked some more of her hair out of her face. A pin must have come loose.
"Get dressed!" she ordered.
"I will." Basch nodded gracefully. "Thank you for alerting me to my…."
"Rotten sense of time keeping? Basch…this is not like you!"
"I know….forgive me. I don't like parties…."
"I forgive you!" Penelo sighed, but she didn't calm down at all. "But Ashe is furious!"
Screechy!
Had he just been punched in the stomach? It certainly felt like it. His tardiness had angered the Queen and it wasn't right, especially on her birthday. He started to quicken his pace.
"Penelo…please…go to her majesty and apologise for my lateness. Inform her that I will be along."
"Sure?" Her hands were cupped together and her face was filled with hope, but mixed with concern.
"I am most certain."
"Please come along soon…Ashe hasn't been enjoying the party without you there."
It was so nice of her to lay on the guilt. He had enough of it all ready.
The door slammed behind her, yet as he continued with his routine, he could hear her voice shouting from outside in the corridor. He could not delay any more.
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A few minutes later, Basch was ready.
There was a moment when he couldn't decide what cape to wear, the black or the red, but he came to the decision quickly enough, and he tied the black cape around his neck.
"Leave the helm."
"Take it. Hide your face…hide your shame for being so late. Don't show Asheila how weak and disgraced you are."
"Leave the helm. Show some respect you feeble man!"
He kept picking it up and putting it down, but when it actually dropped from his fingers and landed on the sofa, Basch couldn't bend down and pick it up. He didn't want to.
Now he really was ready.
He strode over to the small table near the door and picked up the gift he had gained for the Queen.
He had endured horrible shopping experiences. He'd been beaten in the Muthru Bazaar, embarrassed in a sex shop and he had even foolishly started a fight…for this gift.
Though it was worth it. Only in Nabudis, acquiring the gift from the tormented souls of the fiends was truly worth it. Holding it in his hands, feeling the leather and the grooves made by the fiend's blade, he felt so humbled.
The mark of Nabradia, the inscriptions that were etched on to one side of the leather, told of their loyalty, of their connection. He wanted to present it to her, knowing that at last Ashe would know his feelings. But she would hate him for what it also represented.
His hands clung on tightly to it, doubts started to emerge…but Basch knew he couldn't back out now. This had to be done. He and Ashe needed this.
He would do it.
Basch took in several deep heavy breaths and went to turn for the door.
His feet wouldn't move.
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There was a sound at the door.
It was a couple of bored, feeble bangs on the wood. As if they really couldn't be bothered to put any kind of effort into the knock.
Definitely male. Difficult. Who could it be?
"Can I come in?"
Vaan.
Basch didn't respond. He couldn't.
"Basch!!"
Eventually the door was opened without Basch's permission and Vaan (wearing a snazzy black suit.) came strolling in. He walked up to Basch, who had been staring out the window, unable to move. He just couldn't find his feet.
"Erm…are you okay? Everyone's really worried."
"I…"
"It's ten o clock, Basch. People are already thinking of leaving. Some have, considering Ashe has been….well…she's upset."
"Erm……" What had he done?! Why was this happening?
"Her foul mood has brushed off on some of the others and the party hasn't been the most enjoyable….erm…Basch…have you been standing here all this time?"
Did he nod? Basch wasn't sure.
"You haven't moved at all?"
Basch shook his head.
"You've been standing there for…"
"One hour, twenty eight minutes and forty seconds." replied the Judge.
"Don't you need to pee?"
"I do now. Thank you so much for mentioning it."
"That's not a problem. Want me to bring you a bucket, being as you can't move?"
"No. That will not be necessary."
"I could go and fetch Ashe if you want. You can explain your problem to her. She'll understand."
No. She wouldn't. Basch didn't want her to see him like this. Dammit! Why wouldn't his feet move? Why couldn't he just lift his feet and walk over to the door?
Basch hated to think what he was putting Ashe through. Did his not attending really distress her that much? Her mood would be so foul because of him? No. She would be concerned…worried. She wouldn't be angry.
Are you fooling yourself? She will be livid.
Ching. Ching. Clunk.
Vaan was flicking something at his armour. The young boy had made himself at home and slumped down onto the sofa. From the small bowl of dried pot pourri, (He had pot pourri in his quarters?) Vaan had picked up some of the large buds and was throwing them at Basch. Yet still Basch made no move.
"So…what are you going to do now?" asked Vaan. "The party might carry on after everyone else has gone…Penelo wanted all seven of us to have a more intimate gathering. There's special home brew that Penny and I have made…you'll love it. If we can convince the Queen to do it…..what do you think?"
One of the smelling buds went too high and dropped down inside Basch's chest piece. He felt it falling down and then come to rest in the groinal area. It was not comfortable.
"I am such a fool." he muttered.
"You do look it…not moving and all."
"I have battled countless fiends. I've seen so much that men would be afraid of and I've endured the wounds from blades and claws. Yet I can't bring myself to attend a simple party."
"Love does that to you."
"I…."
"Balthier told everyone. He's not pleased, I think you've ruined his plans."
Plans? The Sky Pirate had made plans? That concept only made Basch feel worse.
Ching. Ching. Clunk. Another dried lavender smelling lump joined the other inside his armour.
"Why are you throwing this at me?"
"Is it making you angry?"
"Are you trying to make me angry?"
"Trying to make you move."
It wasn't working.
"I would cease now….if I were you." Basch was feeling the irritation creep into his voice. He also felt five more large fragrant chunks of pot pourri fall down his armour.
"Do you want me to get you that bucket now?"
Basch needed someone who would be helpful in this situation. He thought of requesting Larsa's presence here, but the teen Emperor needn't be inconvenienced even more than he was already. Basch certainly didn't want Ashe to know, and Penelo would be hysterical also. That left only one person.
"Would you be so kind as to fetch Fran." said Basch. He hadn't noticed he'd been clenching his fists. His nails were starting to break his skin.
"Oh…" said Vaan getting up. "If you think she will be able to help."
"Only if Balthier doesn't come along. Then yes….Fran will be able to help."
"Okay. Will do."
Vaan casually strolled out, whistling. The door slammed behind him.
"Vaan!" Basch called out in vain. "You forgot the bucket!"
The boy didn't hear.
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"You cannot move at all?"
"At first it was just my feet, but now….I can't move anything."
Basch wished he could now, especially so he could take a punch at Fran's laughing partner.
Basch had said to Vaan that Balthier shouldn't come along. This whole situation was embarrassing enough already, without having to add this man's hysterical mirth on top of it!
The Sky Pirate was sitting on the sofa, playing with the Judge's helm, occasionally wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks.
"I can see no ailments about you that would halt you like this." said Fran as she bent down to check and inspect Basch's boots. Her nose crinkled slightly as the slight wafting of lavender came from a certain area, but it didn't deter her. "There are no spells or powders….nothing. I am sorry, Basch."
"So this is just me then?" Basch focused on speaking to Fran, rather than allowing Balthier's laughter anger him. "I am just being a complete and utter fool and this is just my nerves. Is that right?"
"Unfortunately. Yes." said the Viera. "Some men do get like this. I've seen it before."
"I am not like most men." said Basch. "I do not cower at the thought of battle or cry away upon an attack by a fiend. I……"
"You go all weak in the knees and blubber like a love struck teenager when the Queen is concerned." said Balthier. He placed the helm on the sofa and got to his feet. The Sky pirate was dressed in a dark green suit that was more elaborately stitched and tailored than his usual attire, and it matched his own noble flare. His hair was slicked back and there was a waft of cologne as he walked past. "Because you love her! That is understandable to be in a position such as this! You've got to let things get back to normal, naturally."
"I have been here for nearly two and a half hours, Balthier." said Basch. "Nothing has gone back to normal. I don't see why I have allowed this to happen!"
"It is love, my dear fellow. You have a serious case of it." Balthier clapped his gloved hands together and rubbed them in glee.
"Unfortunately for Basch and the Queen…." said Fran, gently smoothing some tiny creasing in her dark blue dress. "There is no cure for their problem. There cannot be a way for them to be together and heal their condition."
"Actually, there might just be!" Balthier had a devious glint in his eye. "I have to make amends to my plan once again, but it could work! Fran, would you be a love and go and get our beloved sovereign?"
"NO!" Basch yelled. A little too loudly. The room vibrated? Or was that just the ringing in his ears at such volume. "No…you cannot get her ladyship. I have….other….needs that are….more important."
There were some blank looks from both of them. Fran shrugged her shoulders, the strap of her dress slinking off a bare shoulder. Basch didn't want to spell it out for them too much.
"I have been standing here for nearly three hours and I have to…..I have…."
"Ahhh!" The smile vanished from Balthier's face. He backed over towards the door.
"Please! I'm humiliated enough as it is!" said Basch. He tried to move his hands, but even they wouldn't budge. "I will not be allowed to…..do this to myself."
"Well…forget it!" snapped Balthier. "I am NOT helping you in that….."
"I wasn't talking to you!" Basch frowned disgustingly. "I would never let you anywhere near my….property. I was asking if Fran would be so kind as to…."
"FRAN?!" Balthier was livid. No more so than when he saw her nodding.
"I will help you, Basch." she said. "Balthier…perhaps you should go and get the Queen."
For the first time in a long while the Sky Pirate was absolutely lost for words. Was that jealousy on his young red blushing face? Basch smiled. It wasn't often that he saw Balthier so flummoxed.
"Erm…Fran…can we discuss this?"
"I don't have time to talk to you, Balthier. I must assist Basch. Do not fear, young one. He doesn't have anything I haven't seen before."
Fran bent down on her knees in front of Basch. The sight of the Viera in such a position was too much for Balthier to handle so he turned and walked out. The door slammed quite loudly.
If Fran was uncomfortable in such a position with him, she wasn't showing it. Though Basch knew this Viera creature to be more mature in dealing with this crisis.
"What do I do?" asked Fran as she starred straight at his crotch.
"Have you got the diagram?"
Fran looked around and then took a piece of paper from the coffee table.
"Read and follow the instructions."
"Very well. Pull off clasp A….then clasp C….before unclipping clip D and…which one is clasp A?"
"The one on my right."
"Very well…then unclasp clasp B, clip B and turn toggle C anti-clockwise. This is rather complicated, Basch."
"I can take this off in less then ten seconds, well you have to be able to in such emergencies. But….any speed or haste you can muster, will be greatly appreciated Fran."
"Of course." Fran starred once more at the diagram.
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"I thank you for your assistance, Fran." said Basch. He felt so much more relieved and he was quite happy. Fran was the right person to have helped him, for she didn't make any rude comments, laugh, snigger, point or try anything sexual. She just….pointed everything in the right direction and did not allow herself to be embarrassed. Because she was so mature about it….Basch felt a lot more eased.
"That was no problem, Basch." Fran bowed her head graciously. "I hope that you will be able to move soon. It might be a good idea to think of something else other than the Queen."
"Balthier has gone to fetch her…..hasn't he?"
The dread came back. Fran nodded.
"Don't worry….I will have a word with her."
"Thank you, once again Fran. I count you a true friend. It…was…not in the least bit awkward."
"I am glad you felt the same way." Fran, holding on to his hands, squeezed them affectionately. "Basch…don't let go. I mean of the Queen….not my hands."
"Oh."
"I see no way for you two be accepted together by those others than ourselves. But if you have brought her what I think it is…then there should be a small chance. For one night. Don't let her go."
"Thank you."
Fran slipped away from Basch's grasp and left him on his own.
When the door gently shut and she could no longer see him, Fran leaned against the wall and let out a long relieved sigh. There was sweat forming on her brow and her ears were twitching madly.
Had Basch noticed?
Fran couldn't believe how she was keeping so calm. For Basch Fon Ronsenberg was indeed not like other men. He was much larger in life than Fran ever thought…and the deviousness inside her wished she could have told him the truth to his current predicament. But she thought of Ashe.
What a fool a woman would be to not fight for this man? He was everything that should be a man. Handsome, strong, loyal and honourable, romantic….he was man. Ashe shouldn't let him go.
There had to be a way to get the two of them together. Other than Balthier's idea.
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There was no knock. No request to enter this room.
For this person didn't need it.
The door flew open with a huge crash and the silence that followed told Basch it could only be one person.
She came to stand in front of him and his heart soared.
She was so beautiful.
Angry, but so heart achingly beautiful.
It had been too long. Four years had been more than kind for her. She looked heavenly.
Ashe's hair was long, flowing to her waist and bouncing in soft blonde waves. The dress she wore was a black low cut gown, etched with silver flowers along the edges. It was sleek and clinging to every curve of her luscious body. The slit up the side showed off her leg, her back was bare except for the laces that crossed over her skin and Basch could see the rise and fall of her chest with every angry breath she took. Her body screamed at him.
This was his Queen. This was the woman he loved and Basch knew he was a fool to have stayed away for too long.
The silence was hurtful. It lingered on until at last she spoke.
"What have you to say for yourself?" she asked, the anger lined with severe disappointment.
Basch was so shamed to hear her like this. He hated himself for ruining her special day.
"Well? Do you have anything to say to me? After all I had to endure this evening?"
"I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. About tonight, the years gone and for what I know I must do now. I know I have to leave."
"Happy birthday, your highness."
It was all that his aching throat could utter.