Balfonheim – the Manse of the late sky pirate Reddas
A/N warning imminent sauciness and scenes of an adult nature in this chapter! ;)
Balthier did not know what was worse, his imminent death from encroaching hypothermia or the sickening fact that his unintended dip in the ocean had bought on the beginnings of the queen of all hang-over's.
His teeth were chattering so hard his jaw was going into spasm, his fine shirt was ruined and clung icily to his upper body, his rifle, which he had pointlessly managed to keep hold of, even as he crashed backwards into the ocean, was likely irreparably damaged.
Ashe did not know it yet but come morning she would be purchasing for him a new gun, a new shirt, and perhaps new trousers as well. The shrinkage the salt water would inflict on his already snug leather trousers didn't bare thinking about.
Hauling himself up the wide, gently curving staircase, towards the sleeping quarters of the Manse Balthier looped the gun's strap around the top balustrade of the staircase and tottered, drippingly, towards the direction of the room he and Fran were sharing.
He was thinking of no more than a decade's sleep and a mountain of warm bedding when his hand briefly rested on the door handle and an errant murmur of sound rose to his ears from behind the door.
A voice; a male voice.
Bugger all.
So Fran had company did she? His mood growing increasingly dark and sodden Balthier might have simply entered the room regardless.
He and Fran had moved so far beyond the point where anything one did would embarrass the other that she would not care, and the amusement of seeing the usually sanguine Captain caught in the act would cheer him quite considerably.
However then they would most likely ask him where he had been all day and why he was dripping a small river of seawater all over the fine carpeting, and his amusement at the prospect of his impromptu entrance quickly waned.
Which room was the Princess in?
Balthier stumbled back down the corridor, his limbs twitching with icy chill and beginning to lose feeling as he pressed his ear to the nearest door. The uproarious snoring he could clearly hear told him this was the orphans' room.
He had never known a female who could snore like Penelo, he had oft wondered on their travails how Vaan could sleep so peacefully through it. He had known herds of Behemoths make less noise.
Never mind, by process of elimination this room Balthier now found himself before must be the Princess' abode. Squatting down he looked through the keyhole and sure enough, the wicked Princess had locked the door and left the key in place.
Balthier felt himself smirk, even though his lips were turning blue and his face was numb. If her high-strung and peculiar majesty thought this would keep him out, she was very much mistaken.
The art of Magick was a sympathetic art, Fran had told him, if one wished to summon lightening to hand one must become as lightening in one's mind.
Balthier had always thought this was somewhat ridiculous. He was a man, not a meteorological condition.
Right now, calling forth a carefully focused and localised Blizzaga spell to freeze the lock mechanism on the door until one good jerk of his hand on the door handle snapped it was simplicity itself. He had all but frozen over as it was.
The Princess sat up in bed in a rush, demurely dragging the coverlet up with her and holding it clutched protectively to her throat. Balthier almost laughed at the disingenuous show of modesty and outrage she contrived to wear upon her face.
'Princess.' He greeted her, shutting the door behind him and stepping into the room.
He immediately made towards the en-suite facilities, the Princess having declared the only guest room in the Manse with its own facilities as her right as monarchy.
He had to all but peel himself out of his soaked shirt and left the sodden linen to puddle on the hardwood floor as, ignoring the Princess' indignant huff at his lack of manners, he walked into the bathroom in search of towels.
'No one invited you in here Pirate.'
Ashe had followed him to the doorway of the bathroom and stood, arms folded across her chest, her long nightgown soft and glowing in the moonlight filtering in through the window, watching him keenly.
Balthier snorted, 'Little choice in the matter, as your faithful Knight has decided to usurp my bed and co-opt the company of my partner for the night, it seems.'
Ashe's eyes widened at that, and then a strange smile twitched the edge of her lips. For a moment she seemed to hold it at bay but then a shockingly girlish giggle escaped her.
'Balthier please, that was information I did not wish to have.'
Balthier felt a grin play across his lips, 'You think that is bad, Princess, then you should truly pity me. Fran enjoys relaying to me the sordid acts of her many conquests in great detail. I shall never hear the end of it come the morn.'
He winked at Ashe as he pulled free a large white towel before throwing it over his head to start drying his hair.
He felt Ashe step into the bathroom towards him, 'I do not believe you. Fran is the embodiment of tact, discretion and propriety.'
Ashe pulled the towel from his head and settled it, almost tenderly, about his shoulders, but continued to hold on to the corners of the towel, her forearms resting against his chest, Balthier smirked down on her.
'Ah, Princess that is just the act she likes to affect for the gullible. That demure, mysterious air she portrays is a total fallacy. The truth is Fran is the most rampant hedonist one is ever likely to meet.'
Ashe poked him hard in the gut, even as her lips twisted in an uncharacteristically carefree smile. 'You are a damned liar, Balthier.'
He chuckled, 'As you say Princess.'
He turned away to turn on the water to fill the bathtub. You could say what you liked against old man Reddas, ex-Judge, destroyer of Nabudis, pawn of Dr Cid, but the man had understood life's more refined necessities, for instance, this bathtub.
Roughly six feet long the sunken bathtub resembled a small pool more than any bathing apparatus he had ever seen. No wonder the Princess had been prepared to fight off all comers for this room.
Balthier put his hands under the flow of warm water and moaned as the soothing heat permeated his chilled flesh. It was so good it was almost painful.
'You are planning to bathe, now, at this hour?'
Ashe sounded incredulous, and a tad put out. He turned to look at her as he crouched down by the bathtub.
'Indeed Princess, unless you have a suggestion for another way I might warm myself?' He purred.
Ashe said nothing and Balthier somewhat expected that she would leave him to bathe in peace.
She liked to play this game of bluff and double bluff they had devised but he rather thought that a game it would stay.
Perhaps it was the lingering fog of drunkenness, the dullness of his senses since the Pharos that left him feeling as if the world was moving at a pace he could no longer keep up with, but for whatever reason when the soft, slippery satin night dress pooled on the cream tiled floor by his feet Balthier at first had no idea what it was.
'Very well, I think I shall join you then.'
Balthier found himself looking up at the Princess of Dalmasca, framed by silver moonlight, as she daintily tested the bath water with one extended toe.
Balthier knew he was seeing her in a way scant few of her kinsmen had ever, or would ever, see her; as bare as nature intended. He also knew this would be a sight that would be forever seared into his memory.
'By all means, your Highness, be my guest.'
Still kneeling by the bath he bowed, ironically, as she stepped down into the tub before him.
Ashe settled herself with regal slowness and began examining the collection of bathing oils aligning the wall of the bathing cubicle critically, before selecting a bottle to her liking and working a natural sponge into lather after anointing it first with oil.
'Are you intending to simple sit there and watch, Balthier?' She demanded irritably.
Balthier felt his smile twitch his lips, 'Honestly Ashe, I hadn't decided.'
He reached out to trawl his fingers lightly down her forearm, making her shiver. 'I am a man with a keen eye for beauty, Highness; I would not want to do anything to mar this rare and exquisite sight.'
'You will find me quite unmoved by base flattery pirate.' Ashe sniffed, though he saw the happy flush colour her cheeks.
'Glad to hear it your Majesty.' He breathed as he leaned in to press a light kiss to her shoulder.
'Dalmasca deserves better than a regent whose will can be so easily swayed by any passing rogue with a skilled tongue.'
To illustrate the point, he chased an errant droplet of water down her arm with his lips, pulling her arm from the bath to scatter butterfly kisses from elbow to wrist and tasting citrus and Galbana oils on her skin.
'Yes.' Ashe breathed the fingers of that hand curling to latch around the back of his neck. 'That would be very bad for Dalmasca.' She tugged his head forward seeking a simple kiss.
Balthier had other objectives in mind however, 'Oh, yes, almost as bad, one might say, as a Princess with a predilection for the company of pirates.'
Balthier let the fingers of his right hand pitter patter across her collar bone as his lips dodged her mouth and settled to tickle the silky skin and fine hair just below her left ear, tracing the line of her arching neck with his tongue and, gently, his teeth.
With deliberate slowness he walked his fingers down from her delicate collarbone, he sought greater bounty than a mere kiss, he had already wrested such as that from the Dalmascan saviour, and the pirate's hunger buried in his soul set his fingers to exploring smooth mounding flesh, seeking that particular rosy nub of flesh that stood to attention already.
Ashe flinched and gasped as his questing fingers found their mark, at least one of them, and the Princess rose up with an impatient moan, like an ancient leviathan, to bodily haul him into the bathtub with her.
'Princess, you are like to ruin my trousers.'
He rebuked her as he gathered his limbs and came up for air, Ashe having all but drowned him, pushing him down into the water. Really, this was perhaps the deepest bathtub he had ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
'I shall expect recompense if they are too tight to wear come the morning.'
He warned, though his attention was scattering as Ashe concentrated on removing his beleaguered trousers from both his body and the water and he decided to aid her in this endeavour.
'Balthier you do not know the meaning of the term 'too tight to wear'.'
Ashe told him bluntly as she threw the unwanted item of clothing to the bathroom floor, there was little he could do but laugh at that.
Sitting up in the bathwater that lapped pleasantly at his waist, the warm, heady scent of orange essence and Galbana filling his senses, he pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt.
'Ashe you wound me. I would never speak so disdainfully of your choice of attire.'
Ashe wound her arms around his neck and glared at him exasperated, she almost growled her next words to him.
'For the love of all the gods Balthier, just shut up and kiss me.'
And for once, just this once, Balthier decided to acquiesce to his Queen's command and did just that.