Chapter 7

She never knew that buying supplies could be so enjoyable. But then again, spending money and buying trinkets were things women were always fond of – a fact she had definitely not forgotten. Yet there was something about the bazaar in the coastal town that amazed her. Could it be the wide array of products that the merchants claim to be from all over Ivalice? Could it be attributed to the way different items from weapons to clothing to vegetables could be found displayed on colorful mats and tables above the sandy ground?

"Have you heard? Rona had a fight with her fiancé again,"

"You don't say…."

Ashe picked up the small fruit from the stall she was currently in front of and slowly felt its texture at the palm of her hands. She took her time, eyes focused wholly on the object yet it was obvious that she merely wanted to linger.

Gossiping, yet another guilty pleasure she knew women inherently posses.

"Rona says he is just too damn withdrawn but then I said, aren't they all?"

Faram. She sighed inwardly. Whoever said women were the more confusing sex definitely wasn't observing hard enough. Men always seem so sure of themselves, and the tiniest amount of questioning ends up looking like an act of intimidation. When provoked, they take a step back. When you are nice to them, they still take a step back. It seems that the aggressiveness they have towards their fellow men is just the result of their pent up frustrations against women.

Just last night, she almost implored Basch to at least sleep in a cot by the bed yet what did the man do? He stood by the door and said goodnight, seriously looking like he was going to sleep that way. And as if that wasn't enough, he even had to make a joke out of it. Yet his humor did not help at all. Sleeping in a cage is much more uncomfortable, he says… as if he had experienced a chocobo's life or worse. Just thinking about it made the hair at the back of her head rise.

"She only wanted to ask him what he wanted for their wedding and what do you know? The man says he leaves everything up to her and quickly changed the subject, preferring instead to talk about joining that fighting club of sorts the guys just set up at camp."

"Oh, I've heard of that. They seem to be very serious at it too. It's like the only thing these guys can be serious about."

"But would you believe it if I said that they claim to be having fun?"

"Thank God I'm a woman."

And yes, there was also that training group Amon and the others had set up. At first she thought it to be a good source of recreation for Basch, after all, he was forced to spend god knows how many months with her, not knowing she was a helpless cook and an even more helpless homemaker (despite her supposedly inherent inclination to such feminine chores). Yet seeing him go home with a light scrape – or worse, slightly torn clothing greatly annoyed her – especially since she knew she couldn't do anything about it - with her being more helpless at sewing than cooking.

And yet when she voiced out her woes and apologized for her misgivings, all he did was shrug indifferently, telling her it was fine and that she didn't have to feel guilty. Her memory wasn't intact – and she wouldn't be able to remember the particulars of such mundane chores in the first place. She was of royal blood and somehow, that alone was a license for her to remain ignorant of these things. But no amount of assurance from him would stop her from feeling uneasy whenever she let him do whatever chores she had to do – whenever he did all there is that they had to do.

Sure she lived as a princess all her life, but…. But for once, can't he allow her to be the woman that she was?

She wanted to do it. She wanted to feel it. She wanted to complete herself, if not as Ashelia, then as Amalia.

"Um… excuse me madam…" the timid vendor stuttered slightly as she tried to get her attention. The old woman probably saw the furious look in her eyes that she actually thought that she should not be provoked.

"Oh." The fruit in her hand was suddenly mangled; going from a fresh to a stale state within the span of three minutes – or at least during the duration of her deep rumination. She felt the stickiness in her hands, probably from the sap she had unconsciously squeezed out of the fruit yet it was the warmth in her ears that bothered her, "I am very sorry. I… well…"

"Uh… It's all right madam…"

"I'm sorry, I'll just get a pack of this hmm…thing. Please include this one in the pack. I shall pay for it." She grinned awkwardly, suddenly feeling the gaze of the two gossipers on her. She was already afraid of the possibility that on her next visit to the bazaar, she might be the topic at hand.

"Oh… right right. That is a good choice, if I may say so madam. Dragon fruit is a good source of vitamins. Very important for stamina, surely your husband must need a powerful meal after all the work he has been through all day…" the merchant grinned herself and quickly picked out the big fruits and placed it on the weighing scale.

"Oh yes, yes, dragon fruits are the best!" she replied, laughing nervously, making a mental note to remember what the fruit she had just crushed was called.

"Excuse me… you … you are Amalia aren't you?" the merchant asked kindly as she placed the fruits in the paper bag.

"Yes, nice to meet you. And you are?" she was actually against the idea of letting the old woman know her name, especially when the gossiping women needed it for the latest topic at hand.

"Oh, I am Norg. Fruits and vegetables are my specialty!" she laughed slightly, "It's nice to see you finally, I often see your husband around. Quite a good man isn't he?"

"Yes… very much," she grinned once more as she gave her several pieces of gil to pay for her purchase.

"I heard you purchased a sword from my daughter recently. She said you folks are a good pair."

"Oh, is that so? Well, I am flattered to say the least. I guess I have you people to thank for being so welcoming," she tried to focus on her conversation with the old woman but can't help but notice the gasped "she's Basch's wife?" from the two gossipers behind her. She didn't know if she was to be infuriated or amused by it all.

"Well anyway, I guess I'll see you again sometime… very soon I hope," she stopped for a while as if hesitating then finally added, "he's a very inquisitive fellow you know? I suppose you're lucky that your husband is interested in what goes on in the kitchen."

"Oh that silly man," she blushed, remembering the salad Basch made the night before after the soup she made turned awry. "Well anyway, thank you Norg."

At least he was not as timid around other people. She tried not to get frustrated over the thought. After all, he did it for her as they would starve if he didn't know how to prepare their food properly. Yet still it annoyed her how withdrawn he was. Was she asking for too much? Was he just being overly timid? Was it because she forced him to pretend to be her husband?

Before she knew it, she was walking straight though the new area that Amon had converted into his "training ground". Bangaas, seeqs, humes and even moogles gathered around as they watched different warriors spar with their weapon of choice. The men were standing beside each other like a barricade and she couldn't seem to get a glimpse of the inner circle. Yet once a bangaa moved away, she took her chance and went in the middle of the circle. The men seemed to be having a lot of fun, with some of them seated around as they polished their weapons, talking about technicks and enhancing magiks they have encountered. Some talked about marks while some talked about monsters they just had to run away from. In the middle of the murmurings and the sudden outbursts, she couldn't seem to spot the man she was looking for through his voice…

She looked around once more and saw him in a corner, looking attentive as he was listening to a story by an older man. Amon was beside him and he too seemed to be listening attentively. She shook her head in frustration once more as she saw how his upper sleeve had yet another cut and the vest he wore seemed mangled and falling apart.

At first she wanted to give him a piece of her mind – to let him know she was jealous…Jealous? Of what?! She stopped in her tracks as she tried to re-articulate her thoughts in her mind. She wanted to let him know that she was… annoyed. She sighed as she realized it was a more appropriate term. She was annoyed at how withdrawn he was, after all that they had been though for the past few weeks. And she was also going to let him get a piece of her mind about his blatant disregard for his own well being (or his clothing at least.)

"Basch,"

"Highness!" he gasped, visibly stiffening in his seat. He surely had not expected her authoritative voice above him… especially when he was listening to a somehow clandestine story…. About women…a story of sorts…

"Highness? That's new Basch. Now I see why you aren't getting any," the old man laughed as Amon laughed beside him as well, falling in the sand clumsily and touching his stomach in laughter.

Not getting any what? Ashe tilted her head slightly in confusion and almost nudged Basch's back with her foot.

"I… Uh… That is…" he coughed once as he noticed her wrathful glare above him, "I just wanted to say hello to …my… princess." He smiled tentatively.

"Oh hello my prince," Ashe forced a smile herself as she suddenly coiled her hand to touch the hair behind his neck. "Hello Amon, gentlemen…"

Basch visibly reddened at her touch. Whether it was indirect affection or punishment, he did not care. The result was the same. Utter awkwardness.

"Oh marital bliss, suddenly I miss my late wife," the old man laughed as he looked approvingly at the pair. "Don't worry my lady, we were just having fun… being sentimental is actually a proper term to call it."

"Sentimental, bah," Amon muttered, "That's why I'll never get married. Just look at Basch here. He can take a legendary monster on, but Amalia would always have him around her finger, isn't that right Amalia," he winked at her then, earning another round of laughter from the men.

"That is a mean way to put it Amon," she forced a frown, "my husband has his fine points. And he surely has his own mind," a mind that was impossible to read, she added to herself.

"Oh boy, stop teasing Basch, I can see he can't wait to whop your arse as soon as he can," the old man chided and the chorus of laughter started once more.

"Nay, I do not mind," Basch bent his head, a light tint forming in his cheeks. "My… wi..w…Amalia has her good points as well."

"Mushy smushy. Anyway…" Amon coughed and addressed the men, "uh… a broadsword, a broadsword," he said, glancing tentatively towards Ashe's direction.

"What broadsword,"

"What about a broadsword?"

"Remember what we had been talking about a while ago," he said slowly as if stressing the words, "you know, the thing they will never understand?"

"Oh the broadsword"

"Right, the broadsword,"

"What … ? I always liked the claymore better."

"What? What in blazes are you talking about?"

When he realized that the men had successfully digressed in their conversation, he stood up to talk to Ashe in private.

He noticed that she looked a bit annoyed somehow and he tried to think of reasons why. Was it too warm? Did she encounter trouble? Had he been too inattentive?

"Amalia, did I do something… or did not do something I was supposed to do…?"

She had a look that seemed to imply he was unbelievably dense, and yes he had offended her somehow. Yet he was surprised when suddenly, her frown disappeared and was instead replaced by a big bright smile.

"I went around the market today. I couldn't just stay at home and rest like what you told me to do. I also spent … a lot, I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all, you are free to do whatever you like," seeing her smile gave him the urge to smile as well, "although I do hope that you wouldn't wander around much. I'm sorry, I should have been protecting you."

"Come on Basch, who could possibly harm me here?" she sighed, "stop being such a mother hen."

Her eyes were bright that day and her smile was even brighter. He had always been fond of her smile, though he had always refused to admit it. It was a dangerous fact to admit, and a dangerous sight to be fond of. Seeing it in his head was the most distracting thing…"So, what have you been doing?"

"Oh… not much. I have walked around and looked at the bazaar. I met Norg and bought … some… dragon fruit! That's right, See, have you ever eaten this before?"

He looked at the contents of the paper bag as she had asked in an effort to veer away his gaze from her face. Being around her was most difficult as of late yet when with her, he could not seem to move away…

"Let's have it for dinner,"

"Hey … that's my favorite fruit you know!" a familiar small voice suddenly interrupted them and sure enough, Mighty was there, standing behind them. "Amalia, you did promise us that you'll let us have a taste of your cooking."

"Oh Mighty! We didn't see you coming!" she gasped and grinned nervously, "I did promise you that however…" she was quiet for a while, thinking hard for an excuse.

"Mighty, I am afraid tonight is not a very good time…" Basch added a bit hurriedly as he realized that Ashe was having a hard time coming up with a response. Yet the quips that followed completely surprised him

"All right! Basch is going to get some!"

"Go for it Basch!"

"You snoopy moogle! Come here and leave those two alone!"

He froze for a moment as he heard the men's laughter. They were quite a rowdy bunch and it somehow reminded him of the rank and file in the army… although back then, soldiers weren't inclined to joke around in such a loose manner, what with the impending war. His experience back at those times told him that it would be best to just leave them alone.

Basch was going to get what? Ashe was still confused at what was happening yet seeing the men fooling around was like a breath of fresh air. She never imagined them to be as unruly or as outspoken as the women had been. She supposed that was the whole atmosphere of the Phon coast. It was a place where you can abandon all inhibitions and do as you please. It was a place where one can just … be.

It was hard to do just that when they had been forced to stay there and play a game of charades. Yet at the same time… she felt liberated with her life at that moment. Living that way… it was highly enjoyable.

She was surprised when she suddenly felt his hand on her elbow, leading her away. She waved awkwardly to the men as if to say to goodbye, as they waved back to her as well. Yet as she looked ahead, she suddenly noticed the two gossipers once more, with their eyes focused on her direction.

Suddenly feeling a bit impulsive and a bit mischievous, she pulled away from her companion slightly, only to wrap her arm around his so that their arms were linked as they walked. Basch didn't try to pull away, yet he didn't seem too comfortable in their position either. Nevertheless, she grinned to herself and looked up to see his expression.

She can't say it was grim, yet she could tell he was not happy either. "Come on Basch, don't look so glum."

"I… I am feeling fine, thank you." He said, still trying to get used to the closeness he felt. They had never been this close before. The nearest they had walked together was side by side… and yes, there was that time when they walked hand in hand but… not that he minded but…

"At least pretend you have your wife around your arm," she looked at him again, "Or at least pretend you like it. I mean it Basch."

"As you wish," he said, although neither his facial expression nor his distance from her improve, "But if I may ask… where exactly are we going again?"

"I do not know. You were the one who dragged me away after all," she said, hoping to tease. "But then again, I was hoping to bring you somewhere."

"Then I guess I am now at your disposal."

"Oh Basch, you humor me," she sighed exasperatedly at his words. There she was having fun yet he was being a stick-in-the-mud once again. "I've been meaning to talk to you about your lack of care when it comes to yourself… or your belongings for that matter."

"My belongings?" he was surprised when she started tugging on the vest he wore and put her finger inside a ripped hole in the side of his shirt.

"See, you always come home with a new tear in your clothes and I believe soon, you'd have to walk around in sheets." She suddenly stopped in front of what seemed to be a garments shop, "I do hope you'd avoid wrecking your clothes until I learn how to sew."

Until she learns how to sew? "I cannot possibly make you do repairs on my clothes!"

"We've been through this…remember?" She shook her head and frowned at him slightly, "I would learn, I promise. And I won't damage them beyond repair."

She completely missed his point. The thought horrified him yet the appeal it had on him horrified him more. Cooking was something… yet the sewing thing… was completely different. "Amalia… I don't think…"

"Let's get you a new set of clothes then, you did say I could spend a lot today didn't you?" she placed her hands on his broad back, as if measuring him with her fingers. Her hands reached up for his shoulders then went around his waist and then she stepped back and eyed him for a few seconds.

Getting new clothes was a totally different experience for him. After all, the last time he did it was back when he was in the Dalmascan order. For the past few years he had depended on Vossler and Noah's hand-me-downs for his supply of clothing.

He watched the queen as she talked to the merchant. He saw her moving her hands and asking for colors and making a selection and yet all he could do was stand around and wait. He never had a woman shop for him before. He had his flings and whatnots in the past… yet women never really went as far as picking out things for him. He heard it was a humbling experience and yet he couldn't quite paint his feelings at that moment.

He was once told that in his age, only wives did those things.

She cared for him enough to see to his welfare… to see that he was properly fed and clothed. The past few weeks had been quite an experience for him. Although she had no experience of it… any of it, she had been eager to do the simplest things for him and it reminded him of his childhood. It reminded him of Landis. It reminded him of his mother. It reminded him of a home.

And because he knew he could not go on imagining, hoping for something he could never have. He persuaded her to stop doing … trying… attempting to do these things. It distracted him. It made him forget that she was just acting her part. It made him forget that he must also act his.

"Basch, which color would you prefer. Green or Red… what about Blue?" He remained silent as she held the cloths in front of him, placing one over his chest from time to time as if testing how it would look like on him.

"Whichever you think is best," he replied, as he tried not to step away.

"Oh Basch, have you no preferences too?" she frowned slightly and gave him a threatening glare. "Just tell me what you like, is it that hard?"

"I would wear whatever it is you would find suitable…"he started and saw her glare intensify, "Although I think I would prefer the green one."

"The green one?" suddenly she was smiling again. "It's perfect. It suits you. I like it."

He watched her as she moved away, talking to the tailor about the specifications of his new apparel. The kindly man approached him, getting his measurements as Ashe stood in the corner, observing quietly. She seemed happy. And somehow he felt the warm feeling in his heart as well.

He had never experienced the so-called marital bliss, whatever that was. Marriage was something he hadn't thought about for so long. His life revolved around fighting, serving, following. Such a peaceful life was a thing of the past. He supposed she wasn't any different – after being widowed mere months after getting married. Maybe these experiences they shared were both new… and welcome. Maybe this was the closest he could get to feeling how it was to be with a loved one.

"Who knows Basch? This chance may have happened for a reason. Maybe things would work out better than we want it to be?"

A reason, surely he needed a reason. He needed a reason to continue playing this game with her… notwithstanding how he was fully aware that they were merely pretending… that they're doing this out of convenience, that she had forgotten their past, that she loved someone else… loves someone else… that he can never be the same character in her reality.

He needed a reason to stay with her… other than the fact that he… that he…

"Basch? Would you like anything else?" she asked innocently, completely missing the passing look of despondency in his eyes as she walked towards his direction, holding another paper bag in her hand, "look here, the merchant agreed to give me some thread and needles for free."

He shook his head, trying to clear his mind from the thought he repressed once more in his mind before he even had a chance to acknowledge it. He got the paper bags she had set aside in the sandy ground.

"Come on Basch, could you at least not look disappointed? I haven't even tried sewing yet, but you seem to be fully convinced that I won't succeed," she frowned, looking up to him defiantly, "I will learn Basch. I swear it."

"I'm sorry," he shook his head once more, "I was not thinking that way, nor did I doubt your abilities… I do know for a fact that you are very capable of doing many things…"

"Then what's wrong? Have I upset you in any way?" she placed her hand on his arm almost tentatively, her brows knotted with concern.

"No… no, of course not. I'm sorry."

"Has anyone ever told you that you apologize too much?"

He was taken aback for a second, as he noticed her glare upon him once more, "Aye… the last one who mentioned it was Vaan."

She sighed loudly, looking slightly irritated, "Well at least now you know that I most definitely agree with him." She looked up to him once more, carefully studying his face, looking at his eyes… eyes that seemed to always shift away whenever met with hers, "Stop being so guilty then," she said, sounding like she was ordering him, " Stop putting all the blame in yourself and thinking you are the only one who is utterly flawed."

He remained silent as they walked, and Ashe swore that she felt as though he were restraining himself from apologizing to her again. Maybe that was it. That was the reason why he was so withdrawn. Maybe he couldn't go past his mistakes or forget the way she had been. She may have pushed him away unconsciously… when her memories had still been intact.

"...You… never really … preferred my company…"

"I have my own flaws too… and I am sure I have my own misgivings," she continued, her voice much softer now and her tone more subtle, "Stop … stop staying away from me Basch. I… I want to … get closer to you."

He stopped walking abruptly although his expression was masked with calmness. Ashe stopped and looked behind her, timidly raising her eyes to meet his, hoping for once that he not look away. She got what she had hoped for, as he looked at her slowly, but surely, a rare lopsided grin forming in his face.

"Let's… Let's go home,"

His curt words seemed to hold a lot of meaning for her as she stayed by his side on their trek back to the cottage. It was as if his statement were a truce to a fight that never existed… or even a promise of some sort. She had the sudden urge to laugh victoriously.

He needed a reason to stay with her, to be with her, to continue playing this game with her.

But when everything in this world seemed so peaceful… so surprising yet so wonderfully dreamy… all the complications seemed to fade away. Staying with her just to be with her for the moment seemed to be reason enough.

"Say Basch… what were those guys talking about a while ago? What were you getting tonight?"

He was jarred away from his pleasant thoughts, suddenly feeling cold sweat in his forehead. "I beg your pardon?" Good things always had to end.

"They said you weren't getting any… then you're getting some. What is it?" she asked innocently, "do you need help? I would most definitely not want you to be lacking something relative to your peers."

He had to cough unconsciously at her words, feeling a bit uncomfortable because of the topic at hand, "I am all right, I assure you, it is nothing."

"Come on now, you could tell me." She nudged him slightly, "I would most definitely give it to you if I could, whatever it is."

"It is nothing… I promise…"

"Basch." She said his name sternly, looking at him with questioning eyes. Then suddenly her eyes widened and she moved closer to him. "Oh I know. I think I understand it now."

She moved closer to him and he instinctively took a step back. Yet she was persistent and managed to get closer to him and he had no choice but to be pressed against the wall of the cottage.

"You're hungry aren't you? You aren't getting fed well. Oh my … this is horrible."

"Amalia … I…"

"Yes you are kind of thinner than I expected you to be…" she suddenly placed her hands on his shoulders and then over his chest, where his heart beat faster than bird's flapping wings. "I felt it earlier. Bony shoulders… You looked … healthier from afar."

He sagged against the wall, suddenly feeling drained from what had transpired within the last few minutes. Being with her led to events that were more unpredictable than weather. Yet he could not complain.

"Don't worry Basch, I asked around, I think I know how to cook this thing. Just hang on there, you'll see. I'll get better at cooking and you can eat …with less trouble."

She didn't even see the defeated look in his face as he slumped down the sandy ground as she hurriedly went inside the cottage, determined to make a feast… or something that would at least be edible.

Women were most definitely the fairer…yet more unpredictable sex. At that moment, he did not have any objections to that idea. Yet again, he could not complain. How could he? Being with her was like riding an untamed chocobo but… he could not possibly deny or even repress the thought that he was having the time of his life.


Author's Notes:

Wheee… this is the longest chapter so far. Sorry if it seems a bit disjointed, I wrote this on at least three seatings. Gyaah. I was having a super hard time making Ashe fall in love with Basch (then again, girls like me would always ask HOW COULD SHE NOT!?) so I'm sorry. I had no choice but to tweak her a little (or maybe let her become "true to herself"? hmmm…there's a little Basch lover inside any woman's heart… right? Right?)

I seriously think that Basch's clothes were hand-me-downs from Vossler. I mean, it had the same design. Belts and all. That would also explain why the top couldn't be closed… and why the apple green tassel seemed out of place. I mean, come on, he practically agreed to wear this dead guy's clothes what more hand-me-downs from his close friend? (oooh…. I smell some love… KIDDING!! Hahaha) and besides, he wouldn't have time to buy new clothes and his old clothes were probably burned down or thrown away by that time. Anyway, that's just my theory.

I would like to reiterate that I am a very very very slow writer. But depending on my mood and my professors' moods, I might have the chance to write the next chapter sooner. But I would guess it would take me a month or more to post it again. But I hope I don't/didn't disappoint you guys! I love you all. Thank you thank you for reviewing or even reading my stupid ramblings. I love you guys! And when you guys feel sucky, always think of Basch, poor Basch who had been forced to wear a dead man's armor and not even have the chance to have his own clothing (sob sob) God bless Ivalice.