The mood within the party was melancholy, full of apprehension and regret, and the sky was void of all light as the Strahl landed in Balfonheim, turning off engines among the starless night with a shudder and a hiss. The companions all knew that it could be the last night they spent together, as Bahamut was looming like an inky shadow before them, and though none of them spoke of it, it was obvious that the feeling was unanimous.
"Perhaps we should go to the Whitecap to order food and spirits to cheer us up?" Balthier suggested, shrugging one shoulder in a nonchalant gesture.
"Dwelling on what might come to pass would be detrimental," Fran nodded.
"Agreed," Basch said. "Perhaps the last night we spend here could be one of remembrance."
As the comrades spilled out from the Strahl's open hatchway, which was resting comfortably upon the dark wooden boards that made up the Aerodrome, they found that the port town was not wallowing in sadness and sorrow, as they had expected, but instead seemed to be celebrating. The streets were nearly deserted, but the Whitecap was filled almost to capacity, with excited shouts and thundering toasts filling the small space. Reddas had given himself in a blaze of courage and glory, and it seemed that the way of the end was far more important to remember than the actual ending itself.
Balthier found what was perhaps the only remaining open table in the bar and sat down, and the others followed, taking in the sights of the pirates, who all seemed to have banded together for the night.
"Ah, what a fine tribute." The sky pirate glanced around almost proudly at the raucous display of commemoration and celebration, men and women alike red in the face from laughter, shouting, and several rounds or liquor collecting in their bellies. A tavern waitress came 'round to take their orders and Balthier took the liberty to ask for the strongest and most potent drink available for the party, an ominous beverage by the name of Blue Ruin. When the waitress left, slipping through what little space provided in the crowds, the others took turns sharing wary looks and frowns. Ashe could not hold her tongue for long and leaned in from her position on Balthier's right, her hands on her lap tense from all the commotion.
"Do you intend to contribute to this spectacle, Balthier?" She nodded a bit at the festivities and tried to keep her tone from appearing too judgmental. She understood quite well what it meant to celebrate and honor a man of noble deeds and mind. Though she was not too familiar with Balfonheim's history, she knew that Reddas was a much needed stability to the pirate community, a king of sorts to the port-town's residents. Ashe did not fault them for remembering him as was their due, however boisterous and mildly nerve-wracking that due may be, but she would not condone such behavior amongst her own comrades.
Balthier smiled at her and it only set her nerves on further edge, fraying them to the point of minor frustration. "Princess, you are a long way from courts and royals. I would hope that, should you learn aught from such company, it would be to sustain such judgment as befits your crown. You're amongst pirates, hunters, and thieves--and I, for one, intend to celebrate as any good pirate would do whether your upbringing stands for it or no." He turned his attention to the others, sweeping his eyes around at each of them quickly. He stopped suddenly on Vaan. "And what of you, Vaan? Care to join me in a toast or two in Reddas's name?"
Vaan nearly flinched off his seat, looking wide-eyed at the suggestion. Ashe frowned and doubted the boy had ever had such an opportunity, and silently chastised Balthier for preying on him. "Drink? With you?"
"Well, yes, that was the general idea. You, myself, and whoever else should see fit to join us." Balthier eyed them again.
"Of course!" the younger man said, puffing out his chest in what he seemed to think was an intimidating manner. To his right, Penelo shifted and frowned, focusing her gaze mostly on Vaan himself, but then turning it to scowl in Balthier's general direction as well. The sky pirate shrugged it off, because this was not a night to be sitting around while others were busy celebrating, but a night to join in with them, if there ever was one.
"You can't be serious," Penelo began, and by the way her mouth hung open, it was obvious that she was going to say something else, when a tall, dark-skinned woman approached the table, one hand resting easily on her hip. It took Balthier a moment to move his eyes up from her stomach, which happened to be at about eye-level, to see that a delicate pair of ears adorned her head, twitching slightly as one of the men behind her dropped his bottle with a loud crash.
"I am sorry to interrupt," the Viera said, her accent thick and heavy. "But I believe I know you."
"Me?" Balthier asked, putting a hand to his chest. He would have continued, somewhere along the lines of how he knew many women, and they all came clamoring back at one point, but Fran rose from her seat, looking only mildly surprised, and he realized the statement had not been directed at him at all.
"Rena," Fran said, taking a step away from the table so that she could move towards the other Viera. "It has been too long."
Rena smiled as much as her kind's temperament would allow and gave Fran's shoulder a brief squeeze, perhaps the Vieran equivalent of a friendly embrace. "Indeed it has. Shall we speak elsewhere?" She flinched as the sound of breaking glass and an uproar of shouts and cheer interrupted her.
They stared round to the front of the bar where a pirate had bumped into a tavern waitress, promptly spilling all the drinks she held onto his front. The man laughed heartily and dabbed at his face with a kerchief, grinning at the maiden with which he'd collided and offering an apology. Her frown broke into a clever smirk as she promised to add it to his tab--which had the nearby pirates laughing once more, spurned onward by the dumbfounded expression on the man's face as he tried to calculate how much Gil he now owed the Whitecap.
"Preferably a place less infested," Rena's voice was clipped and harsh, and she noticeably winced at the feverish pitch of chatter.
"You make it seem like we are unwanted pests," Balthier chided gently. Fran gave him a look that, though it was quite identical to her other unreadable, impenetrable stares, he had learned to easily decipher after much attempts. "Go along and catch up, Fran. We shall remain here, though don't count on a coherent one among us when you return."
"I am not asking for permission," Fran responded, one brow lifting in wry amusement. "Only that you not regret your decision come morning."
Basch, who had remained silent and stone-faced throughout the better part of the night, took this opportunity to chime in. He raised his voice over the din and addressed Balthier. "Aye, t'would be unfitting for you to be in your cups when we invade Bahamut, Balthier." The knight smiled slightly and continued, noticing Balthier's disapproving expression and hoping to ease it somewhat. "What good a marksman should he err his mark?"
Balthier sighed and waved his hand as Fran and Rena turned without another word, disappearing into the throng of attendants, the tops of their heads and ears bobbing through a sea of many. "And what good a perfect opportunity to unwind and have a spot of fun--and rum, gods willing--when it presents itself? By the skies, you lot are no fun. Am I to drink all by my lonesome?"
"Hey, I didn't say no," Vaan cut in eagerly as their waitress returned and set a rather large jug in the table's centre, full near to the brim with a cerulean blue liquid true to its name. She set about passing the cups 'round the table and nodded briefly at them before she took off.
"Nor did I," Ashe said, to the surprise of all present. She blinked at the acute attention she was now facing and took hold of her empty glass in her hands, perhaps to give herself something on which to focus besides the stares. "Reddas's sacrifice is as important to me as it is to these. . . mourners," She smiled somewhat at the term. "And it is customary to partake in a toast honoring those brave enough to fall so that others might live. We, too, uphold such traditions."
Balthier looked very pleased at these turn of events; his expression was bordering on absolute glee.
"Well then, by all means," he stated, raising his cup high above the table and addressing all those still seated around it. "Let's have a toast to dear Reddas, shall we?"
"A toast," Ashe said with a thin smile that Balthier knew to be hiding true enjoyment. Vaan mimicked the action, and while the pirate thought that Basch would not be partaking in the festivities, he was fairly caught off guard when the knight poured himself a glass, only half full, and raised it as well. Penelo grabbed the attention of the nearest bar maiden while Basch was distributing his own helping, and procured a glass of water. She seemed pleased with herself, though she threw another disappointed glance in Vaan's direction.
"Aye," the blond man said. "To Reddas."
They drank then, and while Balthier had always found that Blue Ruin was smooth and easy to swallow, this batch seemed sweeter than most, and he was almost itching to pour himself another glass. For a second, he wondered if the batch had been tampered with, to perhaps make it more alluring and addictive, but there was hardly any need for the bartender to be spiking alcohol on such a night, and he dismissed the thought. He watched the excited expression on Vaan's face as he finished his glass, and then blanched slightly at the sting of alcohol that accompanied the gulp, and then turned to see Ashe wiping her bottom lip with one finger.
"Is the drink to your liking, m'lady?" he asked with a wry grin.
"It is," she said, smiling once more, eyeing him with something that resembled distrust mingled with a small bit of admiration. He liked to see that, and promptly poured the party another round, though Basch waved off seconds with his hand, pouring himself water from the clear pitcher instead. The knight was watching the pirate with an intense expression, and Balthier left himself a little note in the back of his mind to perhaps add liquor to the blond man's cup when he wasn't watching. A night of celebration was of little use of the entire company did not partake, and after all, it was in Reddas' honor.
"I propose that we start a little game," Balthier suggested, enjoying the way that Vaan's eyebrows immediately raised, and Penelo's immediately narrowed. "A drinking game that the usuals 'round these parts enjoy playing. How about it?"
Ashe frowned, but then the lines around her lips relaxed, and she nodded once, curtly. "A game, then. To keep the spirits light." It was unspoken that the mood should be kept upbeat given the shadow of the airship they all knew was upon them, and the suggestion seemed to go well with the others.
Balthier nodded in approval and stayed his desire to take another long drink. "As such antics do have guidelines to follow, the rules are as follows: a question will be posed, and only those who have done it may partake of their fine beverages." He let his words sink in, before quirking a brow and the corner of his mouth, lifting his glass into the air to signify the game's start. "I shall be kind enough to go first--I have never enjoyed the succulent juice of a boisonberry." Obscuring the quizzical stares by the rim of his glass, Balthier took a swig and the others soon followed. He addressed their expressions once the Blue Ruin had made it past his throat, tasting just as sweet and headier this time down. "We start light, you see. Boisonberry is quite common, and quite delicious--tame enough for a princess and a boy-thief."
Vaan scowled and set his glass firmly on the table. The liquid danced against the sides and he stared into it with all the pout and ire of an angered child.
Ashe however, kept her smile and ran a finger along her cup's brim in slow circles. Balthier alternated between watching her trace a pattern and admiring the way her lips were glossed with the sheen of her drink. "You would be surprised at the drink of choice in royal fetes, Balthier."
"Yes, you must invite me sometime, princess, once this mess of stopping the empire is out of the way. Who's next?" Balthier wasn't surprised to see Ashe scoot her chair closer to the table and lift her voice above the fray for them all to hear. She held her glass carefully in her hand as if it came natural to her, like a sword, shield, or regal scepter of some sort. He appreciated her participation in the festivities, finding it a great bore to sit and sulk over problems that simply refused to be worked out over many days and night spent brooding. Even Vaan's contribution was likewise esteemed: though it was much too easy, and fun, to toy with the lad he had proven himself a valuable part of their troupe--and a source of amusement, however unwilling he might be to be made one.
"I have never drank Seasalt ale." Ashe said and promptly took another drink. Vaan and Balthier followed suit. Penelo sipped at her water and shot Vaan another disapproving look, her lips tightly closed around whatever reprimand she had stewing on her tongue.
Vaan grimaced after his third drink and turned to Penelo to meet her glare. He lifted his chin defiantly and spat, "Water doesn't count, Penelo!"
"Who said I'm playing?!" She countered, nearly lunging from her seat to verbally lash out at him.
"Vaan, it's your turn," Ashe gently reminded him, coaxing him away from the brewing argument.
Vaan set his teeth and leaned heavily on the table, his posture slouched as he hunched forward. Balthier hoped he wasn't getting too tipsy this early on.
"I've never stolen anything from a sundry shop!" Vaan declared loudly before happily setting upon his drink with perhaps more fervor than was necessary. Ashe let her glass remain on the ground, but watched with an amused expression as Balthier took another swig from his. When the pirate lowered his glass, he met her gaze, and one corner of her mouth quirked upward slightly.
"Well, I am a pirate," he told her. "And after all, there have been times when I've been dreadfully short on gil."
"Have there," she countered, smirking. "Your gil situation aside, I believe it's Basch's turn."
"He can't go, he's drinking water!" Vaan sputtered, clearly irritated by the breach of his own personal rules, but the knight didn't even so much as glance in the younger man's direction. He kept his gaze locked on Balthier, as if challenging him to do something that might start a commotion, and the pirate couldn't quite tell what menacing glint was in Basch's eyes. He suspected it was something of a duel, though he couldn't place his finger on exactly what the terms would be.
"I've never broken into the royal palace at Rabanastre," the knight said, giving perhaps the first true statement of the round. Vaan appeared happy with the contribution, since it gave him another excuse to dive into his cerulean drink, and Ashe took raised her glass to drink from, looking almost, almost flushed in the low candlelight. Balthier drank as well, thinking that the alcohol seemed stronger this time around. Was it just him, or had the heady drink gotten into his head already?
He let his cup hit the table with a hearty slam.
"Fair enough, knight," he grinned across the smooth top. "If Penelo has abstained from playing, then it appears to be my turn again." He paused, mostly for dramatic effect, and decided to continue on the path of truthful statements. "I've never wielded an axe."
Basch reached for his drink, as did Vaan and Ashe, and Balthier raised one eyebrow at the princess. She flushed brightly as she took another gulp, and when she sat her glass down and wiped her mouth, shrugged. "When living in the sewers with a company of men, you learn a lot of things that would most likely be considered unlady-like."
"It would appear so," he said, repressing his grin. Across the table, Vaan belched loudly, and then scowled at the look of disgust Penelo gave him. He smacked her in the arm, though his aim was a bit off, and he hit more of the back of the chair she was sitting on than her arm itself. This only deepened her scowl, but Balthier could see something else working behind her expression now- something rather akin to a motherly feeling of care. He was not worried about what would happen to Vaan should he pass out earlier than the others with Penelo watching over him.
Though he was not eager to drift off first, he thought quickly and straightened a bit in his chair as if to quicken his resolve. He had high expectations that Vaan would be the first to keel, followed closely by Ashe, though she held herself surprisingly well after the series of drinks. Balthier told himself to keep an eye on her, though that shouldn't be hard, for signs of well-guarded inebriation. The only one among them who presented some sort of challenge was Basch; Balthier disliked the knight's persistence in remaining a stubborn cog intent on disrupting the flow of a perfectly entertaining evening amongst friends, and didn't care much for the stone stares and subtle jabs on which he was the receiving end. If he didn't like it, he could very well sit back and stay quiet, Balthier decided, and abandoned all worries as Ashe continued.
"I have never had explicit thoughts of a fellow party member." She promptly took a drink and smiled broadly at the attention she received, laughing happily as Balthier nodded his approval and quickly took a drink. Vaan turned his head to Ashe and squinted at her, his head swaying a bit.
"Whuzz splitsit mean?" He slurred, which only made Ashe laugh harder.
Balthier opened his mouth to speak but Basch beat him to it, nearly snarling with contempt--or maybe jealousy? The latter, Balthier decided quickly, not caring if his judgment was a tad biased at this point in the game by his own growing intoxication. "It is a synonym for lewd, Vaan--and I think you have had enough."
"Hav'in had splisit," Vaan said, and Ashe took another drink, trembling with a silent fit of laughter. Balthier followed suit and Vaan slowly lifted his glass to his mouth. Basch frowned but Penelo was closer to be more effective--she plucked it from his hand quickly and set it out of his reach, standing up quickly with her hands on her hips.
"I'll take him back to the ship," she said defiantly, grabbing Vaan roughly by the arm and hoisting him to his feet. Vaan swayed but Penelo managed to right him, slinging the grasped arm over her shoulders as she led him away from the table. He protested incoherently but made no move to return to his seat, his head pitched forward and his knees sagged with his uneven steps. Penelo managed to turn her head as she bid goodnight to the others, giving them all a stern look that went beyond her seventeen years. "Be careful you guys,"
"No worries, no fun, s'what I say!" Balthier called after them and Ashe nodded, having controlled her giggles by chewing thoughtfully on her lip. Basch stared after them and looked ever weary and worried.
"Perhaps I should help them," he said and made to stand. Balthier reached out and set a firm hand on Basch's wrist that made the knight freeze in place. Quickly did Ashe's nods change to furtive shakes as she looked almost sadly at Basch.
"Oh no, you can't leave," she said quietly, barely audible over the racket.
"Penelo will manage, don't you fret." Balthier said, waiting until Basch had taken his seat after several pensive moments of thought. "And out of us all it's you that should be having the most fun."
Basch frowned and stared at Balthier, entirely nonplussed. "What makes you say such a thing?"
Balthier gestured grandly in the air, adding flare to his comments. "Imprisoned for two years of treason and murder! Forsworn by kin and friend alike, left a broken man in a cage when first we met. And that Vossler chap had to go and turn sides, leaving his charge--" Balthier nodded politely to Ashe, who seemed somewhat misty-eyed at his diatribe. "in your care, which you have honored to the best of your sword and might. Tomorrow we make for my father's finest accomplishment--a sky-fortress rife with doom and destruction, and here you sit like a Seeq pouting and huffing through a very fine bit a fun." Balthier shook his head as if Basch had committed the most heinous of crimes. "No, I won't have it--I aim to do something about it."
"I keep to my ways as you keep to yours," Basch responded coolly, though his disposition softened somewhat when he glanced at the princess, who was looking wistfully between Balthier and Basch with an expression that was quite unlike her normal mien: it was noticeably relaxed and tinged with what seemed to be a great fondness for them both. "Though do not think I have not enjoyed myself in your company."
"And I in yours," Balthier took this opportunity to drink again, thinking the instance of Basch breaking a frown a good enough excuse to drink.
"Likewise," Ashe intoned and finished what was left of her drink, setting it down on the glass and nudging it slightly closer to the pitcher of Blue Ruin. She stifled a hiccup with her hand and burst into another grin, which near prompted Balthier to pitch a fit of laughter--it even brought a smile to Basch's face.
"Now, fill that cup up with something other than what the local well brought up, and join in," Balthier demanded, pushing the pitcher past Ashe's face, which was still contorted with strange laughter, until it slid neatly up in front of the stoic knight. Basch stared down at it for only a second before draining the rest of the water in the bottom of his cup and pouring himself a new glass of the azure alcohol. Ashe turned to Balthier and smiled, though her expression was bordering on a smirk, and the pirate responded in kind. He would definitely have to liquor the princess up more often in order to obtain such a devious partner in crime.
When all three were properly situated again, Balthier leaned back, staring across the table at Basch. "I think it's your turn again, knight."
"I have never given another party member anything to eat or drink that I knew to be questionable," the blond man stated, face as still as ice, and his contribution only caused Ashe to laugh harder as she watched Balthier take a healthy swig of his drink. He supposed that he earned that one, giving the others the Blue Ruin, but all things considered, he suspected Basch was simply trying to get him under the table before he had even started.
"You play hard, I'll give you that," the pirate grinned as he set his cup back down. "But it's my turn next. I have never been imprisoned for something I didn't do."
Basch glared at him as he gulped down several swallows of fiery liquor, and Ashe turned to give him a puzzled glance.
"I suppose that means that you've been imprisoned for things you have done, then?" she clarified, and Balthier merely smiled at her, enjoying the confusion written across her flushed features.
"Pirate, princess," he said with a shrug. "It comes with the territory."
"Very well, then," she sniffed haughtily, turning back towards her knight, who appeared on the verge of annoyance. "I have never bought a weapon from a second hand shop only to have it break on me the next day."
"Oh, perfect!" Balthier laughed, slapping one hand down on the table, watching as Basch downed yet another drink as he glared at the princess he had sworn to protect. Ashe was smiling sweetly, looking demure and innocent, though Balthier could see the quirk at the side of her mouth. She knew what she was doing, the spitfire, and he would see it through with her. He had a hankering to see what surprises the night could offer should Basch loosen with the liquor running through his, albeit knightly, veins. And he had to admit, the jab about the second-rate weapons probably still stung given that Basch had only recently lost gil on a fake arms dealer while trying to acquire new wares for the party.
"I have never seduced a woman by getting her drunk," Basch growled at the pirate, and Balthier sat back, knowing that the sting should probably accompany such a statement, though he couldn't quite feel it. There was an incredibly tense silence for only a second before Ashe burst out into laughter once more, trying to cover her mouth with her hand, and it eased the discomfort from the air around them.
"I think you have to drink on that one," the princess giggled, smiling. Balthier complied, staring sourly in the knight's direction as he did, and wondering when the drink had lost all taste whatsoever. In fact, he began to wonder when his face had lost all feeling, and, looking back, it appeared to have been somewhere between Vaan's dramatic exit, and Ashe's giggle fits.
"I have never run away from home," Ashe said, though she drank on the statement, as did both the men seated around her. Balthier watched her raise a hand to her forehead slightly, pause, and then shake her head at something he could only guess at, and it appeared Basch saw it as well. The knight seemed about ready to command the princess back to the ship, but Balthier beat him to the punch, and held a hand out.
"It is your turn, Basch," he said.
"I have never made someone commit to something against their will," Basch said and they paused again. Ashe tilted her head and frowned at Basch, looking wholly, and adorably, puzzled.
"Surely you don't think we're forcing you to drink, Basch?" Balthier asked, hoping the others would pass on noticing his subtle sip from the glass. Basch noted it with narrowed eyes but made no point to call him out for it. After a beat Basch, too, had a drink and stared into his cup, refusing to look at either one.
"Oh, you can't make Basch do anything," Ashe huffed and made a show of rolling her eyes. No doubt the liquor helped in her display of haughty disapproval. "He's as stubborn as the rest of 'em." There was no doubt about it at this point--cheery laughter? Complete abandonment of refined manner and speech? Ashe was certainly drunk.
"I have joined you, have I not? I sit here and partake of this. . . diversion with you both, yes?" Basch was clearly disgruntled at being on the defensive from the verbal onslaught of his inebriated colleagues. Balthier hoped to hack away at that fortress of knightly stoicism and solitude as best he could, thinking it a fair fight with Ashe at his side. And truly, this was for Basch's own good--Balthier had heartily meant what he said earlier: the man was in need of pleasure, be it from a tap or elsewhere.
An idea struck Balthier suddenly, and he was very pleased at himself for having concocted it, smiling proudly as he cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. "We commend you for it with warm hearts. A toast is in order, I feel." He lifted his glass at Basch and continued grinning. "To Basch--may he find the present company a most helpful diversion from knightly vows and woes."
"Hear, hear!" Ashe cried and happily followed Balthier as he drank deep from his glass. Basch's lips twitched and he managed the smallest of sips through thin lips.
"What sort of prank have you conspired now, pirate?" Basch asked darkly, warily looking from the princess to Balthier as if to catch a shared glance or subtle gesture, some sign of cooperation between them. Ashe was too preoccupied filling her glass to confirm the knight's suspicions, and Balthier took advantage of such an opportunity to speak his thoughts.
"Nothing dangerous or shameful, really, just a bit of a challenge for you." Balthier waited until he had Basch's full attention ere he turned to regard Ashe, making sure the point was delivered that said dare would somehow involve the fine lady sitting between them. Basch seemed to grow tense but made no other movement, waiting for Balthier to continue. "Should you fail you'll have to finish that whole glass, as well as mine and. . . I suppose Ashe's as well, as she's now poured herself another."
"Speak and be done with it," Basch growled.
Balthier was happy to comply. "Basch, would you be so kind as to give the princess a kiss." It wasn't a question--more of a helpful, mildly forceful suggestion. For your own good, Balthier silently added, and could not help but grin at what promised to unfold.
Another silence descended upon the table, and Balthier could see the muscles in the knight's jaw lock. It almost seemed like Basch wanted to say something, perhaps to respute it, or even just to spout something angrily about propriety and oaths, but he just stared across the table at the pirate for a long time, his teeth clenched, and for a very long moment, no one moved.
Balthier didn't think that Ashe had heard his statement originally, because she didn't respond, but when she finally looked over at him in confusion he realized that she was simply processing at a much slower speed than normal, and the cogs in her brain were rapidly spinning to make sense of the new information. He turned his gaze back to Basch, who finally glanced down to take in the three cups of Blue Ruin that would surely spell his downfall should he fail to take up the challenge, and then to the princess, who looked mildly off-put and puzzled.
Then, before Balthier really knew what was going on, the knight leaned in and kissed Ashe, a quick kiss that Balthier knew Basch was keeping as chaste and respectful as possible. What he hadn't foreseen was that the princess herself seemed to have her own ideas about the situation, and when Basch went to pull away, her hands slipped around to grasp his hair, keeping him locked in his position. He saw Basch's eyes widen almost comically, and Ashe's eyes close in contentment, and
though the knight was struggling, in more ways than one, to break off the prolonged contact, the princess had a firm hold on his head and did not seem willing to let him go.
The situation was, he had to admit, a great deal more awkward than he had originally imagined, and when the two finally broke apart, with Ashe sporting what appeared to be a girlish little grin, he cleared
his throat loudly, enjoying the way Basch jumped, as if he had just been made aware of the pirate's presence again.
"Well," Balthier said, not knowing quite what else to say. "I guess you win this round."
"Win?" Ashe asked, looking confused, though somewhat flustered, again. There was a flush to her cheeks that Balthier didn't think was entirely caused by the alcohol, and he couldn't help but watch the way she bit her bottom lip in thought. It was a sensual gesture, and he couldn't believe he hadn't noticed how much so before.
"Indeed," Balthier said, amused by the still flabbergasted expression that had taken hold of the knight across the table. Basch seemed torn between disbelief that he had actually gone and done that, broken some great knightly oath or vow or something of the sort, and disbelief that she had kissed him back with such fervor. "He won the challenge, and took the prize."
"Prize?" Ashe repeated again, looking as something she had been puzzling over had just snapped into perfect clarity within her mind. "I see. Am I such a prize, then?"
Balthier, who had always prided himself on being a man with an excellent and biting vocabulary, suddenly found himself quite without words as he stared at the increasingly devious young woman next to him. He supposed as a member of the royal family, she had been desensitized to the emotional aspect beneath those who admired her, thinking it to be their due or a farce of courtship: pretty speech and vapid talk meant to praise, with little substance in each breath.
Regardless, Balthier was surprised that she was entirely oblivious to her importance, most particularly amongst her traveling troupe: a ragtag assembly of countrymen, kidnappers, and bodyguard all drawn into the quest for her crown. They would not follow just any deposed royal into constant battles nor would they engage in a plot to thwart the greatest military power Ivalice had not seen since the days of the Dynast-King had she not been herself. Anyone of less determination, strength, and courage would have lost their backing weeks ago--and would have long since given up on her trek. Her admirable spirit aside there was the whole other matter, just as important as the previous, of her charming beauty and wit that no doubt captivated Basch as easily as it had Balthier, who lacked the history and extended acquaintance of the princess. Learning to care for her, be fond of her, was simple enough--expressing it was another matter entirely.
"Princess, if a lowly prince of the Margrace clan can slick your ears with pretty-talk and pay tribute to your esteemed presence after knowing you for a collected total of twenty minutes, surely it is not farfetched to imagine we view you no different." Balthier's words were rushed and slightly harassed, hoping to conceal his obvious dislike for Prince Al-Cid and make light of the revelation that the sentence bared. This damn Blue Ruin might get the better of his tongue and judgment should he not be more careful, though he found it hard to be overly concerned with all the alcohol in his system and his own impaired senses.
Basch's face lit up deviously, an expression that startled Balthier somewhat, for he had grown so accustomed to the neutral, calm stance so many of his status exhibited. Balthier hoped it was the liquor that inspired such a look, and not some latent fondness for subtle cruelty. " Lowly? Pirate, you forget yourself: the Margrace ranks above you."
"When one measures social standards, yes. But I daresay by measure of a man the charming Al-Cid is greatly surpassed by myself and you, Basch. Mayhap even Vaan," Balthier set his drink down and hoped his head would steady itself if he stared at a stationary surface long enough. His repose didn't last long.
Ashe pursed her lips into an alluring smile and nudged him with her elbow, looking at him pointedly. It made his stomach lurch with instant curiosity and quick-to-rise attraction, a sentiment that had lingered always on the edge of every gesture, thought and word directed to her. "Are you jealous, Balthier?"
Balthier tsked and shook his head dismissively. His head swirled in a haze of liquor and unguarded desire, making him dizzy. "Certainly not. Al-Cid is no greater than a foppish dandy in tights, attended by voiceless little birdies. Not much to envy there."
"I meant of Basch--for the dare."
He could think of a million response for her question that were, in all actuality, incredibly witty and clever and would have been delivered with a smirk and a wink, and then perhaps a single, easy shrug of his shoulders. He had been in the situation before, and he knew what he should say to brush off the fact that her statement had hit a little too close to home, and when none of his ideas came out of his mouth, he blamed the incredible, and ever increasing, amount of alcohol in his system.
"Perhaps," was what he said, when it was the furthest thing from his intentions of revealing. One of Basch's eyebrows quirked upwards in slight surprise, though the truthful statement hadn't seemed to shock the princess. She merely smiled, running a finger just below her lower lip in thought, not realizing that the action was incredibly sensual.
"I think you have overstepped your bounds, pirate," Basch said, looking as if he were suddenly struggling between being angered on Ashe's behalf, and amused by the weakness he had been given in Balthier's cool exterior. He meant to continue, and had his mouth open with a continuation, but was silenced when Ashe held up a hand, keeping her gaze on Balthier.
"Let him speak," the princess said, the sly expression still lingering over her features. "I believe he should continue."
"Continue?" Balthier barked, caught off-guard, and fumbling to find words in the Blue Ruin daze. "What would you have me say, princess? That your lips are incredibly kissable, especially when you bit the lower one? That your skin is as wonderfully pale as fine, smooth linens?"
"That might do," she said, and the words came out like an exhale of breath, soft and low. He was terribly embarrassed by the fact that he had, in all actuality, said those things out loud, but managed to look her in the eyes in a desperate attempt to hold the last remaining shreds of his dignity. There was something there that he had never seen in her blue irises before- something hazy that darkened her gaze.
He knew what the emotion was, as he had seen it before on other women in his time, but he never thought she would wear desire so well. It suited her.
"We cannot let you go unsatisfied," said Ashe thoughtfully, continuing to lavish attention with a single finger to her lower lip. Perhaps she was aware of how infuriatingly enticing it was--women often knew all too well the ways to make a man sit tense in his britches, and though she could be fretfully oblivious to her value she was, above all things, even above her status as princess, a young woman with the aid of much alcohol on her side.
"As you wish," Balthier murmured, and moved as easily as he was able with so much liquor flushing through him, steadying one hand on Ashe's lap--a move which surprised the only rational part of his mind left to him--while the other extended to cup her lovely cheek, his lips following close behind. She had moved her hand away to prevent obstruction and it hovered in the air before her as they kissed, descending slowly to rest beside his, their skin grazing against each other in imitation of their lips. The kiss was hardly as chaste as the one delivered by Basch, powered by desire and a lapse of better judgment, though t'was still slow and tender for all its passion. Ere they parted ways Balthier managed to lightly brush his tongue against hers, a move which surprised her and caused her posture to noticeably tense. Balthier drew back into his seat as slowly as possible, savoring the taste of her on his lips and the feel of her skin beneath his hands.
Ashe opened her eyes as if from a dream, looking upon Balthier as if she'd never seen him before, not knowing what to make of his actions but certainly not minding it, if the smile on her face was any indication to how she felt.
Before either one could speak, Basch rose abruptly to his feet and stared at Ashe with a look meant to carefully conceal the internal tempest that was surely raging beneath his chiseled features. "Enough of this. Her Highness needs rest, not this. . . debauchery." His voice was tinged with malice, no doubt aimed at Balthier though the knight would not look upon him. Basch's nostrils flared as he slipped his hand beneath Ashe's arm and urged her to stand, his grip a far deal tighter than proper civility allowed. "I shall escort her back to the ship."
The princess did her best to wrench her arm from Basch's hand but only winced at the effort and chose to glare at him instead. She swayed somewhat on her feet and kept her voice low, making no attempt to hide her own disapproval. "You have no idea what I need, and I can return to the Strahl on my own."
Balthier surveyed Basch carefully, considering his options and the best course of action, willing Blue Ruin's influence to diminish in light of the recent events. A petty spat would be detrimental come morning when they took off to Bahamut and to the menaces lying within her, and Balthier refused to let such a thing stand in the way of what started as a perfectly harmless tribute. He glanced quickly over to Ashe and joined them in standing, keeping his voice calm. "A room would be better suited. I'll make the arrangements,"
"You can't!" Ashe protested at once and tried again to slip away from Basch. The knight finally regarded Balthier with unmasked contempt that nearly made Balthier flinch, had he not been expecting such an ire-laden response.
"You have done enough. Allow me to set right what you erred."
"I am perfectly capable of making the proper amends, Basch. And, of course, the recompense shall come from my own pocket."
Basch seemed to take Ashe's rather forceful suggestion in stride, though his hand was still heavy and hard on her upper arm, dragging her back a pace as if to put as much distance between her and the sky pirate as he could. Balthier himself couldn't tell if he found the knight's actions to be amusingly staunch or irritatingly overprotective, but he had little time to muse over it when Ashe tried once again to shake off the old on her.
"Let go, Basch," she said, and though her voice was low, the intensity of her tone was unmistakable. It matched the blaze of righteous anger that was burning in her eyes. "I can make my own decisions, and handle this myself."
"I will accompany you to the bar to secure a room," the knight told her through clenched teeth, pointedly ignoring both her scathing glare and Balthier's quirked eyebrows.
"Relax," Balthier said, hoping to ease some of the rapidly increasing tension from their shoulders. "I'm sure she can take care of herself."
"You've done quite enough for tonight, pirate," Basch said, practically spitting out Balthier's title. Ashe twisted and turned once more, nearly getting her arm free of the knight's fingers. After a few seconds, she managed to slip from his grasp, and while Basch's gaze was still hard on the other man, made her way to the bar to speak with the bartender. Balthier watched her go out of the corner of his eye, knowing that should he have been sober, the situation would have been far easier to escape from, and given the circumstances, he had a better chance of making it worse with his inebriated rambling.
"I have done no more than you have, knight," he responded, adopting the same tone that Basch had used. "You would do well to remember that."
He was sure that had Basch had his sword, which he had thankfully left aboard the Strahl upon entering the city, that it would be drawn and flashing in the low candlelight, and for once he was glad that Fran had suggested they leave the weapons behind.
"You have no right to touch her," Basch said, pointing a finger aggravatingly close to Balthier's nose. "I have sworn to protect her, and protect her I will, especially from swine like you!"
"Swine like me?" Balthier replied, raising one eyebrow. "She propositioned me, if you'll recall correctly. It seems the only thing you can't protect her from is her own desires."
Basch's gaze darkened considerably, but Ashe chose that moment to return to stand next to them, glancing between the two with a neutral, closed expression. In her hand she held a single bronze key, tied to a knot of red string, and while it took both men a moment to face her with their full attention, she seemed content to wait out the rivalry between them.
"The bartender offered me a room," she said finally, far more haughty and regal than she had been only minutes before. "And we're all going. We're going to settle this tonight. I won't have you fighting during the confrontation with Vayne."
Balthier could not help the quirked brow and amused smile that arose from Ashe's words, wondering at the implication behind them and what she could have planned behind that smug disposition and menacing glare. Though still visibly irritated Basch humbled himself and bowed his head, waiting for Ashe to depart before he followed after, standing in the way of Balthier so that he could not look or speak to the princess. The Whitecap's patrons had thinned somewhat since the start of the night, the raucous chatter dying down to a hum, peaked with laughter and slurred song in Reddas's name, and so it was fairly easy to make their way to the staircase and to the second floor beyond. The hallway stretched before them, brightly lit by dual lanterns and mostly deserted, save for the few patrons who chatted outside their doors or made way to their rooms. Ashe looked at the number stitched into the scarlet ribbon and walked further down the hall, stopping at the last door on the left. The key fit snug into the lock and she opened it wide enough to allow her room to pass, leaving it open so that Basch and Balthier could join her.
The room was short on beds, having only two of the largest size set against the wall to their left, and a large window that overlooked the Balfonheim streets took up the far wall. The lanterns were lit and the linens fresh, prepared by the Whitecap staff in preparation for the influx of patrons, no doubt, and for its size and plainness, the room was wholly comfortable, heated to a level that would surely induce drowsiness on the more intoxicated tenants. Balthier shut the door quietly behind him and watched as Ashe walked over to the window and looked out, her arms folded over her chest as if to lock him some heat or grasp hold of her composure. Basch idled near the beds, keeping an eye on Ashe and his back to Balthier, disregarding him as a threat and his presence entirely. Balthier decided not to call him out on this, remembering Ashe's promise to settle this, whatever this might be, and waited for someone else to speak.
A long moment passed before Ashe sighed and turned to look at either one of them, her hands clutching her arms, the fingers of her right hand idly stroking the bruised flesh Basch's grip had wrought. Balthier noted this silently and wondered if Basch had seen it, too. Ashe settled her gaze on Basch and pursed her lips, her expression thoughtful but careful not to reveal her own internal musings. "Basch, what are your feelings for me?"
Basch seemed startled at this topic of conversation but gathered his bearings with considerable poise. He answered true and without hesitation, having no doubt spoken these words often enough for them to be a mantra. "You are princess-heir to the Dalmascan throne, and by my sword I will protect your life. Thus have I sworn to your father, and once again to Vossler. I am twice-bound to your side, Highness."
Ashe's smile was small though kind, and she looked almost pityingly on Basch when she spoke next. "A knight's honor, yes. But what of you, Basch? I inquire of the man behind the oath."
"Such notions are irrelevant," he dismissed them easily with a shake of his head, though Ashe was not fooled. Nor was Balthier--no man who disregarded his personal feelings would react as he had down in the tavern. "A proper liege has no place for petty distractions."
"Yet you have them," Ashe insisted gently. Her arms fell to her side and she took a step towards Basch, though a considerable distance still stretched between them. Balthier moved closer to the discussion but likewise stayed out of reach and kept his mouth shut, waiting to see what passed. "My father may have asked that you forgo the man beneath the armor, but I will not have you made a mindless tool. You have thoughts and I would hear them."
Basch hesitated briefly before once again shaking his head, though he appeared rattled and ill at ease. He could no longer look at Ashe, choosing instead to stare at the carpet. "This is neither time nor place for such idle banter."
Slightly impatient, Balthier spoke up from his position behind them and made sure to keep his tone light, hiding his usual wit. "Not a word you say leaves this room, I assure you. The heart of a knight fetches little coin on the market, sadly."
Basch wet his lips with his tongue and prolonged his stare at the floor. Ashe waited patiently, not saying a word and watching him intently. Finally did he lift his gaze once more and set it carefully upon the princess. "I have loved you as a child, the sole daughter of Raminas, no different than your brothers cared for you. I have loved you as a young maid, as your tutors doted upon you. And I have love for you even now, when you thought me traitor and king slayer, when you looked on me with naught save scorn and hatred. So has it always been, Highness, and so it shall remain."
Ashe's smile was genuine, a beautiful expression that lit up her face and inspired the smallest imitation on Basch's own mien. They looked quietly upon each other for a moment before the princess glanced to Balthier, her smile staying in place. "I would ask you the same, Balthier."
He wasn't surprised by the question moving to him, though he wasn't quite sure what he was going to say. He felt humbled by the knight's words, and almost awed by the easy, quiet manner in which Basch delivered them. He didn't appear threatened or embarrassed in front of Ashe, though he kept his head down once she passed the inquiry along, and didn't look in Balthier's direction. The princess, however, kept her keen gaze focused on the sky pirate in a way that made him feel decidedly awkward, a feeling that he rarely, if ever, encountered while around women.
But Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca was no ordinary woman, and he had long since realized that she never would be.
"You are... unique," he started slowly, picking his words as carefully as he could in the haze of Blue Ruin that still clouded his vision. "You are sharp with your tongue and your sword. Your courage is surpassed only by the love of your country, and even that is out shadowed by your loyalty. There isn't a woman in the world who could compare to you."
There was something in her eyes then, and it spilled out onto her face, which was shining with a bright smile still.
"But what do you feel of me?" she asked quietly, and Balthier was tempted to hang his head, for he'd been twice humbled in the room, and admitting his feelings was never an easy feat. He paused for a moment to gather his words.
"I- I suppose I do have love for you, yes," he said, knowing what it was that she was searching for, and yet, surprised a bit by the firmness of his own resolve behind his statement. If possible, her smile grew wider, and there was a moment when no one spoke, and Balthier dared not move. There was something in the room then, something that made the atmosphere both comfortable and tense at the same time, something that he couldn't explain. But his own words had rocked his mind, as had her easy acceptance of them, and before he could really think of what he was doing, he had lifted his head and asked a question that could only be attributed to the liquor in his veins.
"And what are you feelings for us, then?"
If she hadn't been expecting it, she didn't show it, and she took a step forward with her hands intertwined behind her back, looking from one man to the other with a tender, open gaze. Balthier half expected Basch to interject that the question was a breach of propriety and that Ashe need not answer it, but the knight stayed uncharacteristically silent. Perhaps he too was waiting for the answer.
"You are so different," Ashe said, ducking her head with what appeared to be a small laugh. "And yet, you are so very much the same."
Her reply dodged around the question itself, but she strode forward until she was standing between the two, and then she reached out and took a hand from both. Balthier wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but he struggled to stay silent and let her play out her intentions. After all, he still had not received a clear answer, and for some strange reason, he felt he needed to have it. Her feelings towards him had suddenly become terribly important, as if it were the most vital aspect of his life, and he knew that it was the alcohol that was intensifying his mind's ramblings.
"What is it that you want from me?" she asked quietly, gaze traveling once more between the two.
Competition and jealousies cast aside, Basch and Balthier turned to look at each other and left Ashe standing between them, sharing silent thoughts with a simple gaze. Though of different backgrounds and castes they were men at heart, bound by like desires, needs, and cravings. All of which, interestingly enough, were focused on the bemused young lady betwixt them, puzzled at their silence, at the unknowable connection which passed through sight and instinct.
The two men nodded, confirming the time to begin, and as one they moved closer to Ashe, Balthier leaning forward to steal a quick kiss before Basch cupped his hand 'round her cheek and turned her to him, kissing her with more passion than his previous attempt at the table. Ashe made no move of protest and accepted the attention from both, her eyes sliding shut as she returned what she was given, shivering from undisguised pleasure as Balthier's hands moved to the back of her neck to the clasp of her collar. He paused with his fingers on it, waiting for Basch to break away so that Ashe might have the chance to decline, to stop them, but she made no such gesture. Languidly did she open her eyes and look to Balthier pleadingly, urging him to continue, before she cupped her hands around Basch's face and pulled his lips down to hers once more. Balthier happily complied and undid the clasp with ease, perhaps having pondered the best way to undo it some time before. With the collar free Ashe moved her hands to clasp at its edges, sliding it down so that her throat and collar bone were completely bared, leaving only her breasts covered. It was like peeling the petal back from a flower, stripping the outer folds to reveal tender flesh beneath—all in all, a dizzying experience intensified by several rounds of Blue Ruin. She looked at them both and smiled, a wicked smile quite unlike her kind and gentle ones before, this one laced with lust and somewhat smug sexual pride, knowing at last what they wanted of her, and how it met perfectly with what she wanted of them.
Balthier drew a silent breath as Ashe finally lowered her hands and revealed her breasts to them, her shoulders pulled back and her head slightly tilted, her eyes inquisitive and shining with playful curiosity. He heard Basch breathe "Highness," as she worked her tunic over the curve of her waist, shimmying a bit as she tried to bring it over her hips, a bit of an effort with the skirt still in place. Basch placed his hands on the hem of the skirt and pulled effortlessly, bringing it down her thighs and the armor encasing her knees, until it slid on its own to pool 'round her feet.
Before they could undress her further, Ashe stepped back and lowered herself to sit on the edge of the nearest bed, posture erect and face composed in pure contentment. Her smile in place, Ashe leaned forward to undo the many clasps and folds of her leg armor and footwear, moving slowly so to drag out the moment, lifting her leg up as she pulled it free of the shielding. One leg bared, she moved to the other, only to have her hands stopped by both of theirs. She looked up at either one of them, her lips puckered into a small O.
"Enough," Basch said, his voice low and causing a rupture of pleasure to make its way down her spine.
Balthier smirked and knelt in front of her, his other hand moving to undo the holds. "We aim to please and enjoy you," he purred, running his fingers down her legs as he took off the armor and boot. Ashe shivered again and her skin was lined with goose-bumps, tiny pinpricks of pleasure that broke out over her pale skin, making her nipples taut. When she regained her composure she raised an eyebrow at them, managing a smirk through the rising flush of lust.
"Not fully clothed, surely," she teased.
Without giving either a moment to truly react, she reached forward to undo the small clasp of Balthier's vest that resided at the top of his collar, on the left side. Once unclenched, the leather slipped off easily, and she let it fall to the floor with a kind of practiced grace. Then she reached forward once more and untied the top knot on his shirt, opening the front to dip one hand in and run her fingers across his chest. The slow and deliberate gestures she used while undressing him were driving him crazy, and he swallowed hard at the lightness of her fingertips against his flesh, which sent little shivers of anticipation down his back. When she slipped the shirt easily off his arms, his gaze settled down to her waist, covered only slightly by the white, laced satin material of her under garb.
With Balthier's torso bare, Ashe turned to Basch, who had, during her administrations to the other man, settled down in a similar position as the pirate, kneeling down before the side of the bed. The knight's armor proved to be more difficult to remove, with many joining straps and clasps, but Ashe unclipped all of them with a regal grace, and it was obvious that her hands were working the same magic on Basch when he closed his eyes and took a deep, hissing breath.
Finished, Ashe sat back and looked over the two with a soft, sly smile, and then, quite suddenly, stood up, dragging Balthier up with her. What he was expecting, he didn't know, because most of his mind had been reduced to a foggy haze, though whether from liquor or desire, he knew not. Once standing, he nearly lost control when Ashe fell down to her knees on the ground before him, putting her at a rather enjoyable height. Her hands worked furiously on the buckle holding his pants together, and then she pulled them down his legs slowly, as if she was deliberately trying to make the action as sensual as possible.
Standing with very little covering him, Balthier could only shudder as yet another tingle ran down his spine, and then Ashe did the same with Basch, relieving him of his pants and shoes. If she had anything else in mind, she didn't get a chance to do anything about it, for Balthier was overcome with the need to touch her, just to let his hands fall across the smooth skin of her stomach, and he lifted her up off her knees and set her on the bed.
Her mouth parted when she fell back against the linens in a small oh, and then her eyelids fluttered closed when Balthier's hands began to roam up her abdomen, spending an excruciating amount of time running gently over her breasts and shoulders, her hair spread out behind her head like an ethereal halo.
While the pirate concentrated his hands on her breasts in reverence, Basch knelt down by the side of the bed once more and let his hands fall to her hips. When his knuckled stroked the skin of her stomach just above the band of her under garb, she gasped, and he slowly eased down the lace from her waist, sliding it down her thighs until he let it fall off her foot onto the floor, where the rest of the clothing had quickly gathered.
"Ashelia," the knight whispered, as if awed by the sight before him. He let one hand run softly up her thigh, and when his fingers dipped into the groove between her legs, she gasped once more, slower and drawn out this time, and arched her back slightly. The sight of her parted lips, the same pearled pink of her nipples, was an intoxicating sight, and Balthier could feel himself stiffen almost immediately.
Balthier continued lavishing attention to her skin, relishing in the way it felt beneath his fingertips, feeling her shudder with pleasure as Basch tended to the part betwixt her legs. Her breasts swelled as her gasps soon gave way to moans, quiet mews of pleasure that warmed her face as she let it fall to the right, moving one hand up from the side to bite down on a finger to hush her cries. Balthier slowly pried her hand from her mouth and brought it to his own instead, sucking lightly on each fingertip and grazing the delicate flesh with this teeth, delighting in how she whispered his name, followed closely by Basch's own, overcome with the dual burst of pleasure brought. For a time this continued, Basch's fingers straying to various strokes, small circles, gentle strumming, before easing into longer ministrations that made her back arch and urge his fingers deeper with wordless pleas, while Balthier sucked at her fingers and let his other hand cup her breasts, dragging his hand over her skin and lovingly grasping the plump flesh.
After several moments Balthier turned his head to gaze back at Basch, who shared a glance and nodded once, withdrawing his hand from between Ashe's legs. The absence of the much enjoyed attention made her moan in protest and she made to sit up, or perhaps reach out for Basch, but Balthier intervened. He smiled that all-too-familiar catty grin and slid his hands down to her hips, urging her towards him with the gentle pressure of his grip. Ashe was happy to comply, waiting until Balthier had settled himself on his back before she positioned herself atop, lightly pressing herself against his erection, an action which made him moan loudly and dig his fingers into her flesh. Basch moved so that he was now, too, kneeling on the bed but was behind the princess, a distance far enough not to intrude on them, but close enough to lavish her with attention, waiting with iron patience for the right time to move. Balthier kept his eyes on Ashe's face as lowered her onto him at the same time as he thrust, a hard and sudden motion meant to shock and please. The desired effect came about: Ashe bared her throat as she tilted her head backwards and moaned louder this time, sounding almost like a scream if Balthier heard correctly. This only spurned him onward, coupled with the delicious wetness between her legs and how its warmth coated him, securing him inside her. He moved her at the same time as he moved himself until she could manage it on her own, his hands at her waist more so to keep her steady than guide her.
At this point Basch leaned forward, pressing his chin into Ashe's shoulder and moving his lips over her pale throat, sliding one hand around to grip her breast and pinch playfully at her nipple, while the other trailed down her stomach. Balthier moved his obstructing hand to the bed and gripped hard at the sheets, knotting them tightly in his fist as Ashe moved above him, riding him with an equal fervor as his thrusts, his eyes fluttering shut as his smirk gave way to pleasured grunts. A loud gasp and "Basch , yes," from Ashe told Balthier what he already knew--Basch had continued where he left off, rubbing at the pearl hidden inside her folds, no doubt throbbing and sore.
It continued as thus for some time, Ashe coming very near to orgasm but failing to reach it at the penultimate moment, denied as such by Basch abandoning his attentions to keep her on the edge, to maintain her piqued passion. Several times did she nearly howl with frustration and tried to force Basch to return his hand, but he pulled free of her frenzied grasp, laughing quietly as she whimpered with frustration and at Balthier's steady, hard thrusts. Soon did Ashe lean forward, placing her hands above Balthier's shoulders, curving her back as she lowered her chest so that it nearly grazed his, and Balthier knew he could hold out for only so long. Being inside her was exquisite, a rare pleasure he seldom felt from previous sexual encounters, and with a gem such as Ashe--he would die a lucky man having had this privilege only once in his life. Feeling her breasts skim over his skin, feeling her warm breath flush out over his throat, hearing her soft cries and gasps, Balthier focused on the heat inside her, the same heat now forcing its way through him until he could feel his orgasm building. His parted lips emitted low gasps, the last one prolonged as his climax approached, unable to contain the pressure and pleasure any longer: he spent himself fully inside Ashe, feeling sufficiently drained and still aching with lust.
Ashe waited until Balthier opened his eyes before she smiled at him, an exhausted but thoroughly beautiful expression. She ran a fingertip over his lips and silently mouthed her thanks. Still catching her breath and drawing herself off of Balthier, Ashe turned to Basch and whispered, "It's your turn."
It took a moment for Basch to respond completely, as if he couldn't believe that his charge, his princess, was turned to him with moonlight illuminating the curve of her breasts and the firmness of her thighs, swirled so that her chin rose softly from the linens as she looked back at him. Then, as Balthier backed away, so spent he felt as if he could collapse upon the floor and never get back up, the knight moved in, cupping Ashe's cheek with his palm and kissing her lightly, gently, guiding her mouth open with his own.
When he set his weight upon her, she moaned into his mouth, her hands wrapping around his shoulders as if to pull him in closer, the kisses still deliciously slow and deliberate. Basch reached up and grabbed her hands, pulling them from his back, and then pushed them up so they were lying on the bed next to her head. From anyone else, the action would have been domineering and aggressive, but Basch's movements were almost painfully gentle as he let his hands run slowly down her arms back to her chest. She moaned against him again as his mouth left hers to move down to her neck, slowly caressing her skin with his tongue, until his lips had reached the curves of her breasts, and she arched her back against him in an attempt to further the sensation. After being so close to release, moving this slow was beyond frustrating, but Basch was unrelenting in his thorough roaming.
When he pushed his body up a few inches off of her, and his hands dipped below her waist to stroke at her heated folds again, she gasped loudly and bucked against his hand with a fervered whisper of his name, over and over again.
He moved downwards against her protests and slipped a finger inside of her, and then, when her cries turned to those of soft moans, another one, making a slow pulling motion inside the warmth. She writhed as well as she could under his weight, grabbing at the blankets below her, until he slid into her completely and pushed her arms back up above her head again, kissing her neck and her jaw as she mewed in contentment, matching his even, steady rhythm by pushing her heels against the bed to propel her hips upwards. For a long time the movement was slow and controlled, and, sensing an opening, Balthier moved to the position behind the bed and began kissing Ashe's hands as they clenched and unclenched above her halo of hair, slowing moving each finger in and out of his mouth, sucking lightly at the tips.
Basch's rhythms increased, and his haggard breathing turned into groans of pleasure, and when Ashe lifted her legs from under him and wrapped them around his waist, spurring him deeper and faster, his gasp mingled with his moans, until he could feel nothing but the wet heat around him, and the princess matching his every thrust, and his back spasmed and stiffened as he came, falling somewhat on top of her as he fought to catch his breath.
Ashe gave out what appeared to be a frustrated little cry as the knight moved off of her, stopping her protests to kiss him again, and then, when both men had moved from the bedsides, she bit her lip in anguish and writhed on the linens, unable to find the release she so craved.
When he found his voice again Balthier forced himself to speak, his words a hearty purr that made Ashe rigid with hopeful expectation. He winked at her and said, "We haven't forgotten you, princess." He reached down to swipe at the articles of clothing strewn about the floor. When he turned to her again Ashe could she he held his handkerchief in hand, spreading it out thin as he leaned towards her. Ashe realized what he meant to do as the cloth lowered around her eyes, and she lifted her head to better accommodate Balthier as he tied a small knot.
Though her eyes were open all Ashe could see was the starched, stitched linen set around her eyes. She felt vulnerable and somewhat lost like this, unable to see and bared so plainly before the two men; a part of her cringed at what might happen next when she felt their gentle touch-- whose she could not be sure--on her skin, light whisps of fingertips against her belly and waist, running up her throat and caressing the sides of her face. The touches reminded her of their gentleness, of their desire and longing--and that they were not likely to take advantage of her. One of them kissed her, but it was too fleeting for her to be sure who, and it was only moments after the kiss that she felt another one, a more intimate and certainly more gratifying languishment of the mouth, slowly working its way between her legs. She felt the flicker of a tongue and the slight press of teeth, nothing too harsh to do any damage, surely, but enough to make her pant wildly, her lust stirring where it had been left off when Basch withdrew from her.
She heard a soft laugh but could not place the voice--it was too guttural, too deep to know who spoke, and she felt hot breath against her throat, hands moving down her body, and the flush of her blood beneath her flesh sending her into a near frenzy. The warmth momentarily left from inside her and she moaned helplessly, not knowing whom to address her plea, when suddenly a series of light kisses started up again. His tongue--be it Balthier's or Basch's--moved deftly over her weakest of spots, the small nub that was the partial cause for all her moaning and bucking, for all those whispered words best left out of polite conversation, and certainly best unsaid by a Royal Highness. Ashe could barely focus on the reality of social standards at a time like this, thinking only of the sensations moving over her, inside her, thinking only of the feel of either man and the different ways they tended to her, the taste on their lips and the sound of their rugged breath, the way they moved inside her, easing gently or forcing their way. She was wildly satisfied by both.
Again the kisses stopped but she did not cry out; instead she waited for it to continue, keeping her wits about her long enough not to moan. She felt the forceful brush of a finger move against her moist folds before it slid deep inside, followed shortly by another finger alongside it, while another hand entirely moved to her clitoris, rubbing harder than before. The pleasure which erupted from inside her was intense, a force that made her ache to the bone. Ashe could feel her thighs tremble and her left foot tingled with a familiar numb sensation that, previous experience had showed, signified her climax was imminent. She pressed her head hard into the mattress and cried out, a wordless shout that quavered with her body as flutters of her orgasm rushed through her, like wings beating, like a steady heart, like a divine flame that set fire to her flesh and ignited every pleasure point she possessed. She barely knew herself as she came, calling out to both men in her frenzy, thanking them, begging with them, urging them to gods-knew-what, her slender frame writhing with ecstasy, wrought by mere fingers. Her body rode out the orgasm on slow waves before she fell limp on the bed, her lungs fighting to steady her breath, a small, relaxed smile twisting the edges of her mouth.
She felt hands gently lift up her head and move to the blindfold to unbind the knot; it was removed with a flourish. Squinting at the intrusion of light, Ashe was surprised to see the faces of both men looking down at her, one on either side of her, their eyes slick with lust and a much deeper, more profound appreciation. It was one that exceeded flesh and sex, one that went straight to the heart. She thought back to the lips and fingers she felt and knew for sure they had taken turns, moving as one mind over and inside her body, letting the other have their fill and give her what she gave to them before joining together to bring her to climax.
Ashe moved her arms to open wider as Basch and Balthier lowered themselves to a comfortable position: the sky pirate quite pleased to use her breasts as a pillow, while the knight lay his head as close to Ashe's as ease allowed. They shared a long stare in which there was no need for words, no need to speak a thing, for Ashe understood as surely as he did that this, what they had done, was not lightly chosen and would not be easily forgotten. Ashe smiled to herself and wondered how a woman could misplace the memory of sharing a pirate and a knight in the same bed.
She placed her hands on both of their heads, lovingly stroking their hair and grazing the backs of their necks with her fingers, slowing down when she felt them ease into long, steady breaths. Ashe would hate to wake them, thinking of all they had endured and not just in the bedroom: all the hardship, all the suffering, the loss and the pain wrought by fate and Hume. Every bit of it was forgotten when they looked upon her face--and when she looked to them.
A dreaded menace loomed on the horizon, promising to block the sun and forever darken Dalmasca's days, but Ashe would not let herself worry of it--not now, not like this, not with these men in her arms. She would not fret over the war, would not go mad over the risk and the prospect of loss--not when she had gained so much this night.
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