This complicates things?
"You think so?" she replies, nearly stupefied by his behavior. He was cold and angry one moment and attempting to claim her for his own the next. What in Ivalice is happening to them?
He grins and moves away from her to sit down beside their packs. "We should fight like that more often."
"So that you can assault me?"
Balthier shrugs. "Princess, you assaulted back with equal fervor," he replies pointedly. How could he be so passionate one moment and downright silly the next? She sits across from him and unpacks her bedroll, doing her best to avoid his eyes. Ashe can still feel where his lips pressed against her neck, the skin of her thigh almost burning where he'd grabbed hold of her. Her heart is still beating so erratically – anyone within miles should be able to hear it.
"Are we going to discuss what that meant, Balthier?" she inquires, checking the remainder of their food stores.
He sighs. "We have more pressing business in the morning, don't you agree?"
Ashe looks up. This time he will not dodge her. He has nowhere to go but in the river or back into the snow fields by himself. "I disagree." He quirks an eyebrow but allows her to continue. "You've kissed me twice now, and I will not dispute my own complicity in those events."
Balthier's amused expression shows that she isn't the best at phrasing these sorts of things, but it's not like she is used to such amorous attentions – especially from trusted friends. He begins to set out his own bedroll and blankets as if their conversation isn't terribly serious. Ashe decides to press on. At the very least, he's busy with his preparations and will not be pouncing on her any time soon to kiss away her nagging and worry.
"I wish to know your intentions, if only to know where we stand. I will not continue onward in your company if you play games with my affections," she explains. Of course, what she wants is confirmation that there is more to it than a game. That she is more to him than a friend or some treasure he wishes to claim and brag about at the pirate taverns. She wants his heart and mind to match the actions of his hands and his lips, but for a man like Balthier, it may be too much to hope for.
Not to mention her own expectations as Queen of Dalmasca. Though her kingdom is in disarray and her own ability to govern it in question, she could not truly pursue anything with him. Courtship with a wandering pirate is a thing of tales and legends, not of reality. Ashe has never been a romantic or a dreamer. She must protect herself before this gets any worse. Her feelings can be suppressed once she is away from him again.
But oh how she wants him to love her. She kissed him back. No one but Rasler had been so close to her before, but then again, Rasler had never kissed her so ardently – they had only been on the cusp of adulthood. Ashe's passion for Balthier is different, she realizes. It is the passion of a woman grown – a woman who has her duty and her place and should know better.
Still Balthier says nothing, examining the hand drawn map he and Basch had thrown together the first time they'd been to Giruvegan. "I've no power over you, Balthier, and so I will not order you to tell me. But I ask as someone who regards you as a dear friend, please. What do you feel for me?"
His face is far more solemn now, his eyes squinting at the crudely drawn map. "You do have power over me."
His voice is barely louder than a whisper. "Pardon?"
Balthier removes a pen from his bag and scratches it across the map, her mind returning to that night in her bedchamber when they went over the laws of Dalmasca. How long ago that seems, she muses. But they have both come a long way since that comfortable night – when she'd been content to have him as a friend and confidante.
"You say that you have no power over me, Ashe. And since I am no citizen of Dalmasca, that is true in the political sense. But I cannot deny that you have a hold on me very few…" He presses the pen hard enough against the map to puncture a hole in it, and she feels her heart flutter. "…or should I say that no other woman has had on me."
This is the most bizarre confession of affection she could have imagined, but the way he seems to struggle with his phrasing indicates sincerity. Balthier is a well-spoken man. For him to even pause his flow of words says more than a thousand sentences could tell her.
He sets the map down and looks at her, the intensity in his eyes matching the fervor he'd shown in pressing his body against her own. "I'm not entirely sure what I feel because I've never felt this way. It's as if you've burrowed your way into my mind and you'll be damned before you loose your hold."
"How flattering," she spits. Has Balthier never loved a woman before? He's probably told dozens of ladies that he loves them and never meant it – clearly feeling it for real is difficult for a leading man to swallow.
Balthier picks up the map and shoves it back into his bag. He looks to the heavens and sighs. "I've no time to ponder what it all means. What I do know is that I'd like to kiss you again. Perhaps that would give me some degree of clarity?"
She smirks at him. "That is a rather dangerous idea. One I'll not allow until you can verbally address my question to my satisfaction."
"What the hell do you want me to say? That I'm as mad for you as Basch is for rules and protocol? That I'm here in Giruvegan because I'll be damned before I see you face them alone?" He shakes his head. "Do you have any idea how many times I've had to hold back from kissing the living daylights out of you?"
She smiles at that. He seems ready to pull his hair out. Exhaustion from travel has loosened his tongue, and her own nagging has helped it along. "So Basch wasn't wrong then? You do have affection for me."
"And have…for some time, I'm distressed to admit," he explains. "Do you have any idea how infuriating it is to desire the love of a Queen?"
He doesn't merely feel affection for her – he desires her love in return. Ashe wants to hide her face. Surely her blush is spreading to every corner of skin visible to him. How in the world will they be able to travel together? "Infuriating? I think I understand, in my own way," she admits. The turmoil of feeling she's had for the past week has certainly not had a calming effect on her psyche.
"I've had enough of this little chat, Princess. I'm not here to bare my soul to you, I'm here for the immortal meet and greet," he reminds her. She supposes that now wasn't exactly the most appropriate time for a discussion of feelings, but it wasn't the time for making love either. Of course, Balthier didn't seem to mind that. A man of Balthier's type has strange priorities and sensibilities.
"Very well," she replies, leaning over and snatching his bag. "Let's have a look at that map."
-----
Morning comes, and she rises before Balthier. Despite the change in their relationship, if she can call it that, they'd been remarkably civil for the remainder of the previous night. Conversation had kept to Giruvegan, their planned route to the crystal within and then a rather amusing discussion of Vaan and Penelo's sky pirating exploits to keep the mood light. They'd shared their rations and chatted as though nothing had changed, but she'd felt his eyes upon her whenever she looked away. And though it would normally unsettle her, it is welcome to her now. She will take comfort in his affections while their paths still intertwine.
She looks across to see him sleeping. All of the effort he puts into his demeanor during the day seems to disappear when he is at rest. There is no pretense, no mask upon his face. She watches him and is fascinated by how far they've come together since that night in the Garamsythe Waterway when he saw her as nothing but a guest to his thievery. What would it be like to wake every morning to see him an arm's length away? He lets out a rather noisy snore, and she has to hold in a laugh. Shaking her head, she does her best to go about her morning routines without disturbing him.
The waters are calm as ever, no evidence of distress in the city beyond. Behind their little camp, the gates connecting them with the Feywood remain firmly closed. The device that will carry them across the river hums quietly as she approaches. She does not understand the ancient magicks that make it work, but even Ashe remembers how much more they usually glow. Touching her fingers to it tentatively, not enough to activate it, the glow only fades more.
"Leaving without me?" she hears behind her. Balthier's perched his head on his hand and watches her from where he lays on the ground.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Ashe responds, walking away from the device and back to him. "You're the expert when it comes to machines and contraptions. Why isn't it glowing?"
Balthier sits up and stretches, and she winces to hear his joints pop. She wants to make a crack about aging, but then they would sound like an old married couple for sure – that is probably the last thing Balthier wants to imagine for them. "Let's have a look," he remarks, kicking off his blanket and wandering over.
They circle the device, and Balthier even knocks it with his fist a few times. The crystal flickers but does not send them across the river. "Can we even get in to Giruvegan?" she asks tentatively, wondering if this long journey has been all for naught.
"If we have to swim, we're going," Balthier answers her. "It is strange though. It's almost…hmm."
"Hmm?"
The sky pirate crosses his arms, his mind clearly racing to find an adequate way to explain himself. "It's as if someone's turned off the power…or turned it down low. Like it's on emergency reserves, if there's such a thing when you're an immortal grouping of rocks."
"Will it work at all?"
He departs and moves back to prepare some breakfast for himself. "We may be standing there a while for it to activate, but I wager it will work. Let's just hope we can get back out."
This is an unsettling thought, and she buries her doubt and focuses on a small breakfast instead. They eat and pack up their supplies. The night before, they agreed to travel light, only weapons and essential items. Whatever fiends reside within the city will be avoided in favor of finding the quickest way to the platform above the city. They will save their strength for the crystal within, and Ashe is grateful that Balthier has the handmade map from years before.
When they are ready, they walk together and face each other across the crystal device. "Kiss for luck?" he asks.
"Save it."
He smiles broadly. "I'm rather stealthy, Princess. Don't think I won't try."
"I've no doubt," she replies. "Let's go." They press their hands together against the device, their fingers brushing slightly. He winks at her as their hands touch, and she wants to slap him. His levity is infuriating no matter how she feels about him otherwise. She feels the magicks seep into her fingertips. Where being zipped about normally feels like having a bucket of cold water thrown over her head, this is slower, an almost sensual feeling coursing through her. The device whirs to life finally, and she closes her eyes to brace for the transport.
As soon as she feels the magicks reach from her head to her toes it is gone, and her feet are pressed against dark stone. Balthier has arrived with her and gives her hand a poke. "Good thing we aren't fused into a wall right now. Who knows what happens when these damn things aren't working."
She nods in agreement, and they both step away to look around them. The water steps are seemingly devoid of life. No sound of screeching fiends reaches her ears, nor can she see any from her vantage point. It is rather disturbing – they'd expected to hit the ground running upon their arrival. Balthier's intake of breath alerts her then, and she turns around to follow his gaze to the giant crystal in the center.
"It's…that can't be right," she mutters. The crystal, normally glowing with Mist, is almost entirely devoid of light. Even from their vantage point at the city entrance, the crystal looks more like a dull gray rock. "It looks almost…"
"Like it's dying," he finishes for her.
She can only stand at the edge of the step, looking down at the crystal in her surprise. No wonder the device outside was so dulled – whatever power controls it is equally weakened. What could this mean? "Balthier…do you have a theory?"
His face is curious, almost fascinated by the sights before them. "Several actually."
She turns to look at him. "The Occuria controlled me, now they possess Hammad, yet their city is almost like a tomb."
Balthier nods. "Makes you wonder if destroying the Cryst actually did more than we thought."
Ashe is puzzled over this. Reddas sacrificed himself to destroy the glowing crystal in Ridorana – could that affect the Occuria's grip on Ivalice through Giruvegan though? "The crystal here is little more than a giant rock now. Why would they expend so much energy to interfere with me?"
He turns away from the sight of the crystal and begins navigating the twisted paths of the strange city. "Well, let's imagine we're the Occuria for a moment, Princess," he muses, speaking to himself almost as much as her. She follows him, her steps heavy in her confusion. "Sun-Cryst is destroyed. Major power source keeping their hold on Ivalice. Obviously, if I'm an Occuria, I would want to protect what remains to me." He waves his hands around. "This. If this was all I had left, this place, I'd be saving up my power."
"But we're seeing the opposite," she tells him. "This place is dying. They invaded my mind – they wished for me to destroy Ivalice, as they would surely have Hammad do now. Why?"
He smiles. "Desperate times call for desperate measures. They truly are dying – well, not in the normal sense, but their grip on Ivalice is seeping away and that crystal is proof. No crystals, no Occuria to meddle in our affairs. And if they cannot hold Ivalice?"
She stops. "Then they would see it all destroyed."
"If they must effectively die, then so must we all. At least in their estimations," he agrees. It is a chilling thought. They wished for her to be a new Dynast-King, to carry out their vengeance two years before. And now their vengeance would be far greater – and all Ivalice would be forfeit. They will not allow history to be written by Hume hands – they would see no history at all instead.
She hurries to catch up with him. "I don't suppose there is a way to convince them to just fade away and leave us to our own devices?"
Balthier grins, his footsteps full of energy and excitement. "No wonder Venat was so eager to get out of here. Greedy bastards, they are." The thought of the heretic Occuria sends a shiver down her spine. Venat would have seen an Ivalice controlled by men – but would a world ruled by Vayne Solidor have been any greater than Hammad and Rozarria destroying all in their path? Both options would only bring suffering.
They continue walking for some time, the journey taxing them only in time since there are no creatures to kill. Have they too faded with the crystal's Mist? The hours pass in quiet, Ashe's thoughts consumed by the thought of the Occuria's true motives. Gerun's voice was so powerful in her head, calling her slave. But who is master and who is slave now? The Occuria are slaves to the inevitable fading of their power. Would she then be able to proclaim herself master?
The crystal is before them now. She and Balthier need only walk across the floating green platforms to the transport. "You think all of the creatures are hiding in the crystal?" she asks, the slightest tremor in her voice.
"I sincerely hope not," he replies honestly.
"Shall we?"
Balthier nods, and she sets out, trying to keep her breathing even though her body is screaming for her to flee. It is so strange to be in this place once more. The crystal is nearly lifeless, and she wonders at the state of the powerful orb within it – it must be the last bit of energy remaining to keep the Occuria in Ivalice. Perhaps they ought target it.
His voice behind her startles her as she sees the transport device ahead of them vanish and the green platform holding it flicker and fade. "The path is disappearing!" he cries and grasps at her arm. "Quickly, we must go back!"
Her feet are carrying her as fast as she can go, and she keeps her eyes on Balthier's back as they race to the more solid stone. Ashe can feel the walkway tremble beneath her feet as she runs. The fading power within Giruvegan is no longer enough to even keep the platforms functioning. They are almost there, her heart pounding in her chest as she feels the path behind her falling away and some force almost pulling her back with it. Is it the crystal?
They are almost to the stone again, but she knows they'll miss it. Balthier's legs are longer and he runs faster – she is still so out of shape from a lazier palace life. She shouldn't look down, and she is rewarded with nothing but darkness as she does so. Her foot seems to sink through the vanishing platform she's on now, and somehow, she feels a strange calm. He could make it.
Ashe channels whatever strength remaining to her to stretch out her arms and shove Balthier forward. He has no time to turn around as he topples onto the stone pathway to safety, and she falls. She can only close her eyes as she hears him cry out for her. She prays that it will be quick.
But where she expects to feel nothing, the same strange feeling she felt when they transported into the city seems to seep into her skin, almost feeling like her descent is slowing. Opening her eyes, she sees only darkness until she knows nothing but cold. She's in water, heavy and choking in her woolen skirt, but she manages to kick to the surface, coughing. It is not as dark here in this water, and she spies a sandy area close by. Where is she? Under the city?
She hears a loud splash moments later. Nothing for a few seconds, and then another splash and noisy coughing. "Ashe!" Balthier's sputtering voice cries out. "Ashe, are you here?" He jumped after her, not even knowing what lay below? He is the most reckless person she's ever met.
Ashe swims over to the shore. "Here, I'm here!" Pulling herself from the water, she can only lay down on her stomach and gasp for air. She can hear him swim over, and somehow, all she can do is start laughing.
He emerges from the water and collapses beside her in exhaustion. It seems as though he hit the water harder than she had – the Mist had done little to cushion the fall. Trying to conceal her fit of giggles, she crawls over to him. Thoughts of the dying crystal above and the threat of Rozarria all fade away as she watches him spit up water and cough.
She feels like a drowned rat, and her clothes hang heavy about her, but all she knows is Balthier in front of her. "You idiot!" she cries, coughing heavily. "You stupid, stupid pirate!"
He rolls onto his back and groans. "That really hurt."
Ashe leans over him and kisses him gently, barely able to keep from laughing in her hysteria. She leans back and brushes her fingers over his face. "What if we landed on rocks? You'd be dead!"
Balthier moans in pain again. "Feels like I hit rocks."
"You are the most foolish person I've ever met. I try to save you, and then you jump anyway?"
He coughs and moves to sit up. She sits beside him, leaning her soaking wet head against his equally soaked shoulder. Balthier moves his arm around her, and he leans his head atop hers. "The leading man does not need to be saved, much less by a woman."
"You're lucky Fran's not here. She's saved you more than I bet you can remember."
"Oh, definitely," he replies, kissing the top of her head. "But I sincerely hope you have no lingering doubts about my feelings towards you."
He leapt into a dark void after her, the most probable outcome being death.
"No doubts whatsoever," she responds, squeezing his hand. They sit together for a few more minutes in the sand, her skin growing chilled. "Well, how do you propose we get out?"
Balthier sighs and rises shakily to his feet. She joins him, and they examine their new surroundings. The water goes on until she sees nothing but darkness, and the sand stretches behind them until it reaches the black metallic wall of the city above. She doesn't even know how Giruvegan functioned as a living space however many years before.
She sees his eyes narrow, and he wanders over to the wall. "It's much easier to find exits with Fran around," he admits.
Her skin is cold, and she is grateful that he hasn't joked about the best way to conserve body heat, at least not yet. They keep to the wall and follow it as it curves around. The crystal overhead hovers in the air, and she tries not to think about the fact that they've lost their weapons and other supplies in the fall. Squinting into the distance, she spies a faint glow. "There, is that a transport?"
They hurry ahead despite their exhaustion from falling into the water, and Balthier looks almost ready to kiss the device. "Oh yes, yes it is," he remarks. "No idea where we'll end up, but it won't be here."
"But it's not glowing," she notes sadly, and he frowns. While the devices outside were at least flickering, it appears that this one is completely dead. Balthier smacks the device in his frustration, clearly hurting his hand, but he turns away instead of being emotional in front of her.
Ashe looks closely at the small crystal in the center of the device and is startled. Pressing her fingers over it, it feels like something has been carved into it. "Balthier, can you see this?"
He turns back around and crosses his arms. "Let's just find an exit."
"No, not until we know what it says. Someone left a message."
Balthier sighs and leans forward to squint at the dead crystal. "Core. I think it says core."
"And what could that mean? You don't think…this device leads directly to the core of the crystal above?" If only they could get the device to work, they could destroy it once and for all. "We could end this, Balthier."
He rubs his thumb across the carved letters and smirks. "But this thing's dead. And now that our little route upstairs is gone, there's no way inside."
She bites her lip and thinks. "Could we…couldn't we just replace the crystal?"
"Replace?"
He's the one who is so clever with machines. But it seems so simple. "Replace it, then destroy the one above us."
Balthier seems to be considering her idea, and he walks off to think. She continues to stare at the device, wondering if the force of her own will could convince it to activate once more. Destroying the core inside will be dangerous – the destruction of the Sun-Cryst had cost Reddas his life. How would they even accomplish such a thing? They have no Occurian blades now – what else could cancel out such power?
"My gods," he mutters, crouching down in the sand to examine something.
She wanders over, consumed by what they must do. She knows now – they need to go to Draklor. They need manufacted nethicite, and a lot of it. Ashe is about to tell him as much when she looks to see what has so captured his attention.
"I know who left us that little message," Balthier mumbles. Who else could have been down here? One of the residents of Giruvegan centuries ago? The Occuria themselves wouldn't have left such a vital clue scratched into a crystal.
But her questions are answered. Some long abandoned camping supplies and maps are scattered over the sands, and Balthier is holding a miniature portrait in his shaking fingers.
"Ashe, this is a picture of me." She kneels in the sand beside him as he looks at her, his eyes pained. "Cid was…my father was here."