It is well past midnight, and by all rights Ashe should have been asleep hours ago, however she cannot stop down the workings of her mind and remains completely awake and alert without any signs of tiring. Pacing around her room in the Manse she looks over the same four walls and things again and again, changing into a soft cotton nightdress she brushes her hair (which makes her think of Balthier,) washes her face then resumes pacing back and forth until it gets so stuffy inside that she decides to open the doors onto the balcony; a warm sea breeze flushes her lungs and gently tickles her hair around her neck as she detects a low humming carried on the wind, reminiscent of a tune she is certain she has heard before,
Only being played on a pipe…
She walks up to the wrought balustrade and leans out to peer onto the balcony next to hers, and sure enough Balthier sits with his feet propped up on the bar with his shirt in his lap,
In his lap, meaning not on his chest,
She leans further over the edge to study him in more detail, and she sees his hand moving quickly back and forth over and under the fabric of the shirt,
'Balthier?' she gasps inquisitively, causing him to suddenly jump and curse, irritably rubbing his fingers together and sucking the tip of his thumb,
'Ashe, I'm beginning to suspect you are stalking me,' he mutters as he slides his hand back under the shirt, then pokes what she realizes to be a needle through the material, followed by a fine thread,
'Are you sewing?' she whispers in surprise as he tucks the needle between his teeth and stretches out the fabric to examine it,
'Full of surprises aren't I?' he mumbles through the pin in his mouth, still engrossed in his work and not looking away from it as she climbs the railings and swings herself around the separating wall onto his balcony, 'careful…' he gently scolds as she lands clumsily on the platform,
'Tell me…' she asks, 'is there anything you don't do?' Leaning back against the balustrade and letting her eyes stray to his bare chest with the excuse of wanting to see what tear he is mending, she manages to find time to appreciate the rather impressive build of his body; and surprisingly his skin is lightly tanned despite his insistence on wearing long sleeves at all times,
I expect he suns himself on the roof of the Strahl when he's alone…
She thinks to her own amusement,
'I am a man of many talents, princess,' he announces as he looks intently down at the shirt, placing neat and careful stitches on either side to make sure it doesn't twist when he pulls it together 'some of which you have yet to experience' he smugly adds as she finally separates out the rip he is darning, it is in fact negligibly small,
'That's a rather small hole to go to all this trouble for,' she comments, 'are you always this fastidious?'
'Always.' He repeats quickly, 'and you're the trouble here,'
'Oh…I'm sorry?' She suggests confusedly,
'Not at all,' he dismisses the apology with a wave of his hand, 'whoever said I didn't enjoy it anyway,' he seems content with his mend and breaks the thread off between his teeth, then carefully examines the repair once more before looking at her for the first time this evening, 'I see you are also in need of my services,' he announces haughtily, and she wonders if this is some lewd pun when he tucks his fingertip into a tear on her nightdress, 'you appear to have a hole in need of my attention,' she is not sure if she should slap him senseless or laugh, knowing of course that he means the dress but unable to ignore his smirk and wicked implications, she decides to assume the better and ignore the worst of him,
'Well how would you propose to mend it? Taking into consideration that it is the only thing I'm wearing' she asks pragmatically as his fingertip gently caresses her leg through the opening in the fabric,
'Taking it off would be a sensible idea…' he suggests slyly, she shakes her head viciously and knocks away his prying finger, 'fine then,' he sighs, dropping his feet to the floor, 'you may sit on my lap while I repair the damage,'
May? Exactly who does he think he is?!
Unluckily Ashe's desire for the shirtless pirate outweigh her objections at being granted the privilege of him, and she sits as he produces a knot of tangled threads, then lays them out on her knee to find the best match of colour to her nightdress. His arms wrap around her as he threads the needle, but it splits on the eye and he holds his forefingers up to he mouth,
'Tongue please,' he says teasingly, she very hesitantly parts her lips when to her confusion he presses his fingers against them and the very tip of her tongue, then pinches the end of the cotton with his damp fingertips as she realizes with mild relief it is to smooth out the fraying end and make it easier to thread the needle. He finds the end of the strand and loops it around his finger, rolling it between the two until it knots; then gently pokes the tip of the needle through a corner of the small tear just above her knee and finally begins to sew. His wrist grazes her upper arm as he extends it to pull the knot secure, but he seems relaxed and in control (as always,) and places precise and neat stitches along the rupture, she occasionally feel the point gently touch her skin as he pushes it though the material. He looks so focused that she mischievously tries to break his concentration by wrapping her arm tightly around his neck and trailing her fingers down the back of it, and suddenly jumps when a sharp point digs into her leg,
'Ow,' she snaps as he rubs his finger comfortingly over the place where he stabbed her with the needle,
'Well stop distracting me then,' he retorts condescendingly, returning his attention back to her dress and its nearly complete state of repair; her head sinks down with boredom as she sighs, then takes in the soothing scent that is so quintessentially Balthier. She finds herself wishing she could stay here just feeling his hands brush against her skin and losing herself in everything that is characteristically, comfortingly, him.
He could die tomorrow, but here he is tonight fussing over minute tears in clothing as if there were nothing to worry about but one's appearance in the morning…
'Tired?' he asks as she rests her head against the top of his, tickling her nose with his soft hair,
'Not in the slightest, it's unlikely I'll sleep at all tonight' she answers more honestly than she might suppose, feeling his misplaced ease spread through her like a contagious disease,
'Oh really?' he teases, 'then if you would be so kind as to hand me my belt,' she bends down and picks it up off the floor as he takes this opportunity to let his eyes stay to her behind,
Don't touch her, for gods sake do not grab her…
He warns himself repeatedly until she eventually sits back up and puts some of his temptations to rest. He takes the belt from her hands and opens the attached pocket, then with a flourish pulls out something that flashes silver and pink as he holds it up to her,
'Balthier…' she whispers in astonishment as the necklace she longed for earlier that day hangs from his outstretched finger, 'when did you…how did…wait…did you pay for that?' she asks accusingly, but he notices her following it around with her eyes as he swings it from side to side,
'I though you couldn't purchase things of true beauty….' He unclasps the chain and slips it around her neck, delicately hooking it together as the pennant hangs coolly against her flawless skin; although it is fastened he keeps his fingers woven together behind her neck, drawing her ever-so-slightly closer to him,
'And that means that it must automatically be stolen?' she asks deviously, stroking her fingers along both the circlet and his arms, making no effort to remove either,
'But of course,' he replies, slowly slipping his hands down until they rest on her lap, then laying one against her back as she shifts to lean further into him,
'Does that apply for princesses then, must they also be stolen?' she whispers as she traces her fingertips softly across chest, following the contours of his body down to his arm where she lets that hand rest, then rubs the fingers of the other over the studs in his ear,
'If I remember correctly, you asked me to abscond with you…' he replies with a knowing grin as he slips his hand just under the hem of her nightdress and gently caresses her warm skin, inching both hem and hand subtly up her leg,
'So I did…' she toys with his hair playfully, 'but does that same rule apply to Queens?' she knows this may put a dampener on things, but is curious to know what intentions he would profess in such a situation,
'I have yet to be the hero of the story, princess, what if I need to make a sacrifice for the good of mankind? Then your being a monarch would be of little consequence' he answers mysteriously, making her wonder what impending doom he can so clearly foresee,
'Don't be so morbid,' she anxiously murmurs, holding him tighter as if it were possible to protect him from such a fate, he gladly reciprocates and squeezes her back, and then she feels his lips against her skin as he lightly kisses her collarbone.
'Que sera sera, princess,' he whispers, placing his lips as carefully as his stitches, gliding along her shoulder they climb the curve of her neck only breaking contact with her skin when they cross the necklace, she takes a quivering breath and buries her face in his hair, biting her tongue to hold it from whimpering as the hem of her dress slides further up her legs,
'Are you sure about this?' he asks forebodingly, knowing that if he lets this go any further then she won't have a choice about what happens; she tilts his head to the side and presses her lips against his temple, then brings herself level with him,
'Yes…' is the word barely snatched from her lips as he instantaneously jumps forwards and clasps her mouth to his, quickly tucking an arm under her legs her lifts her bridal-style and swings her through the open doors of his room; as she cradles her hands around his neck she remembers Rassler couldn't carry her the full way to their room after they were wed, but he sweeps her effortlessly across the floor; his sense of urgency not because he fears he may drop her but because he needs her right now and can't (or won't) wait for another second as he pushes her into the forgivingly soft bed and deftly pulls the nightgown off, discarding it on the floor as their lips crush together and she begins to loosen his trousers. He groans softly as she claws at the sheets and coils her arm desperately around his neck and gasps, forcing her chest up against his as he allows more of his weight to rest on her,
'So you're not going to sleep at all tonight are you?' he murmurs enigmatically in her ear,
'No…' she quickly retorts, the grand total of what they are wearing now amounting to her necklace, 'not a…' the sentence trails off as he diverts her attention to something far more pressing; the moan she had been stifling finally leaping off her tongue and peeling the paintwork with its fervour.
'Tired?' he asks some hours later, lain with his hands wrapped possessively around her waist as the cool wind through the quietly flapping doors washes away the heat rising off their bodies,
'No.' she replies resolutely,
'Then what do you propose we do if you still can't sleep?' he asks mischievously, sliding his hand along her side to rest in the curve of her side,
'Perhaps we should…' she waywardly begins to suggest, rolling over in his arms and casting her eyes once again over his stripped form,
'What again!?' he interrupts theatrically, an eyebrow quirked up at her through the darkness, 'even for a leading man, you are demanding rather a…'
'Of course if you don't want to…' she teases, but he continues to roll her over until she lies on top of him, settling her hips comfortably on his he looks at her in false astonishment,
'And what part of knowing me would ever suggest I'd not want to pummel the bed sheets with you, princess?'
'Well…' she says thoughtfully, running her fingers over his earrings and then his rings (which he is still wearing, of course), 'these things do…'
'Don't answer that,' he interrupts with a grin, 'lest I need to assert my dominance on you again…' she sits up and meets his eyes devilishly in the twilight,
'Go on then…' she dares, when he lies there and just chuckles at her she adopts a more regal tone, 'that is an order, Balthier.'
'Less noise,' he scolds, 'I'll sew your lips together if you can't keep quiet.'
Now for some light-hearted trivia: The necklace is actually the one Ashe is pictured wearing one she becomes the Queen of Dalmasca, (don't believe me see for yourself: googleimage ashe dalmasca and you'll get it isn't that pretty cute? R-E-V-I-E-W :)