A/N: There were a lot of ways that I wanted to write the scene after the Pharos at Ridorana, and since I already tackled one way in ‘Expanse’, I thought that my Steal Me arc would be a fitting place for the other one.
o.0.o.0.o.0.o.
She couldn’t quite say when it was that her heart broke that day; when Cid disappeared into the Mist-infused air, his voice, for the first time that she had ever heard, full of something other than greed and control, or when she had turned around after wrenching her eyes away from the scene that she simply couldn’t take any longer.
She wasn’t sure there was much left of her tattered emotional hold after the dealings with the Sun-Cryst. When Rasler had once again appeared before her, his arms outstretched like a proud warrior, she had cut him down without a moment’s hesitation when she finally realized that the spirit she was seeing was not really the husband she remembered. And it had split something inside her, just a bit, like a tear that started from a crumbling corner.
And then, when Gabranth had appeared before them with his swords glinting in the Sun-Cryst’s light, something else gave way as she stared into the masked face of the man who had murdered her father. It was a different sort of break, but a break nonetheless, and she could feel it aching in her chest like a pang of guilt that she hadn’t the strength or drive to cut him down then and there. It was only after he lunged and struck that she managed to take up her sword and drive him back, and even then, it was half-hearted, for she simply didn’t think that she could take back what was lost.
But it was only after Cid’s guns felt with muted clangs on the ground and she watched for as long as she could, finally tearing her gaze away so she could be spared viewing yet one more needless death that she could feel the tears well up in her eyes.
She had wanted to run to Balthier, just to be near him, simply to convey whatever she could given the circumstances, but when she opened her eyes once more, he was no longer standing in front of the spot where his father had disappeared from, but was kneeling by a shaking Fran. His arms were around her shoulders, and her hand was on his cheek, and that’s when the body broke, everything inside her chest welling up so that it was terribly hard to breathe and that, for a single moment, the entire world around her seemed to hitch in that one instant.
Perhaps she hadn’t realized before that just what he had begun to mean to her, and it wouldn’t be the first time that she would finally accept her emotions once the ship had sailed. She could almost feel Rasler’s eyes upon her, and she wondered once if this was her punishment. Maybe she was doomed to live a lifetime of remorse and regret because she had not appreciated what she had while it was still standing before her.
She fell then, to her knees, and they hit the ground with a hard smack of armor against stone. Her hands fell to the tiles as well, and her left hand happened upon her discarded sword, which had slipped from her fingers at some point during the confrontation with Gabranth. She wasn’t entirely sure that anyone even noticed, but her fingers fit well into the sheath, and then her mind was blank, and she knew of only one thing to do.
Ashe pushed herself upright with the only surge of energy she could find within herself, sword held before her, and began charging at the Sun-Cryst with all of her might. All she could see was the blinding Mist surrounding the crystal, and all she could hear other than the roar of the wind around her ears was the beating of her own heart, which sounded so close to shattering, and then there was a hand on her arm, and Reddas was there, staring down the shimmering jewel.
“You should forgo this place,” he told her, and perhaps there was something else in his voice that she couldn’t quite decipher. Vaan, who had mimicked her half-crazed charge towards the crystal stopped as well, though his eyes were wide and glimmering with reflections of the yellow Mist. It looked as if he wanted to say something, but then Reddas was gone, dashing up towards the Sun-Cryst with his sword at the ready.
Ashe thought that there was a large crash, but she fell once more, drained of everything that had once kept her going, and then there were arms dragging her upward to her feet, though she didn’t know whose they were, and then they were moving, all of them together, the footsteps echoing through the stone-laden halls. She saw nothing, because everything around her was a blur of color and light, and everything she heard was simply static laced with the undertones of words that she couldn’t understand, but she didn’t care. She had curled up within herself and shut down, in every possible sense of the word.
Somehow they made it to the Strahl with the echoes of the explosion lingering in the passageways behind them. Ashe could feel the Sun-Cryst’s final cry trembling in her veins, like she had with the Dawn Shard before it, and the feeling intensified before vanishing completely, becoming a strange, cold void.
She remembered sitting in the Strahl’s cockpit and watching the landscape sail by her vision, though it went by so quickly that she had to have blocked sections of it out. She had clung to Vaan’s arm as if to give him comfort for a time, and she didn’t think that the young man realized that he was holding her upright as much as she was him.
When the airship reached the skies over Balfonheim Port, she was glad, because she wished for nothing else but to be out of the confines of the cockpit. She wanted nothing to do with Balthier and Fran, who had said very little to each other over the course of the flight from Ridorana.
Balfonheim was strangely quiet, almost eerily so, and Ashe had a suspicious feeling that the citizens of the port town knew more than they let on. She followed the others out of the ship, using the metal slabs on either side of the hatch to support herself. The group made their way silently to the far side of the wooden streets, where Roz and the rest of Reddas’ gang were waiting outside the dock, sitting on crates and talking amongst themselves.
Basch broke the news, perhaps because out of all of them, he was the most composed in the situation, and they took it stoically, almost as if they were expecting it. Roz spoke for awhile with Basch, too low for Ashe to pick up on the conversation from her removed vantage point, and then the Knight turned back to the group and told them that there was a visitor waiting inside who hoped to speak with them.
When she stepped into the room, she realized that fate was simply not going to allow her to have a single moment’s respite from the growing threat operating outside their bounds.
Al-Cid might be smooth and cool, but there was only one reason that he would have sought them out at Balfonheim, and Ashe’s suspicions were confirmed when he began to tell them of the Rozzarian’s alliance with Ondore’s resistance force, and the war looming just over the horizon.
“I will defend Dalmasca,” Ashe said, sounding much stronger than she felt. “It is my charge.”
“Our charge,” Vaan insisted, falling into step beside her, and then Penelo was at her other side, looking optimistic, and the sight of them taking up her battle for themselves, these comrades that she regarded as so much more than that, was too much for her to bear. The turmoil of the day had built up inside of her and festered, and she couldn’t speak for fear of breaking down completely in front of the others.
It didn’t seem to be necessary, for Al-Cid appeared to enjoy speaking much more than listening, and as he made to leave, he grabbed Ashe’s hand. His fingers were warm and smooth, but they were just all wrong, and she couldn’t bring herself to squeeze his hand back.
“You must come to Rozarria,” he told her, and his voice was low and inviting. If she hadn’t been so preoccupied with other things, and if her heart didn’t feel as if it was in millions of pieces at the moment, and the world had lifted off of its settled place on her shoulders, then perhaps she would have enjoyed the caress of his fingers on the back of her hand and the sultry quality he seemed to innately possess. As it were, she could barely keep the tears welling in the corners of her eyes under control, and she certainly could not sidestep away from his grasp. Instead she simply stood and let him gently work his fingers over her hand, the action making her feel far worse than she already had.
He finally left, and she heard Balthier’s derisive snort from behind her, and all she knew was that she needed to leave the room as quickly as possible, because the façade she was maintaining was quickly crumbling.
“We should rest before the Bahamut is upon us,” Basch said, shifting his weight. “Our strength is waning from Ridorana.”
“I agree,” Fran said, and Ashe closed her eyes, willing them all away. “After the dealings with the Mist, we should regain focus.”
“We have a few hours until sunset,” Vaan noted with a glance out the window.
“Maybe we should restock some of our supplies before heading to the Strahl?” Penelo suggested, and Basch nodded.
“Very well,” the Knight said. “I will leave you and Vaan in charge of the supplies, and I will visit the armory to see if there is anything there that can be of use to us.”
The party began to disperse then, and Ashe moved quickly to be out of the stifling interior and out where she could blend into the merchants working on Balfonheim and escape the others for a short while. The others seemed content to let her go out on her own without indications of where she was planning to go, and she was nearly halfway down the wooden street, thinking that she was very nearly in the clear, when a hand closed resolutely around her forearm and effectively stopped her cold.
“You certainly allow Al-Cid a large number of liberties,” Balthier said, and he sounded almost angry, and Ashe tried in vain to wrench her arm away from his grasp, keeping her face turned away from him. “Is it because he is a prince?”
“Let me go,” she managed to choke out, but his fingers were tight around her skin, and she couldn’t slip from his hold. “Please.”
“You are going to visit him after the war, aren’t you?” the pirate continued, and then Ashe could no longer read the tone of his voice at all. “You have every intention of taking him up on his generous offer.”
It was all too much; his hand on her arm, the warmth of his fingers, his accusations ringing in her ears, and with a cry she whirled around to face him, tears finally beginning to run down her cheeks as her futile battle with them ended. His grip loosened on his arm when he saw her face, and he appeared shocked. Perhaps he hadn’t been expecting her to cry, but she used the moment to her advantage and fled down the street, running past vendors and pirates with little heed to her whereabouts or destination.
“Ashe!” he called out to her, and from the sound of his voice, it appeared that he was trying to follow her through the marketplace. Somehow, in the confusion, she noted that it was one of the first times he had used her name rather than her title, but the thought was quickly forgotten when she brushed past Elza, caring not that she nearly knocked the buxom woman down.
From the sounds behind her as she continued, she gathered that the blonde woman had managed to stop Balthier from his pursuit, and she ducked into a small alleyway between two residences, her lungs burning and her eyes stinging. She collapsed onto all fours, unable to resist any longer, and there, scarcely able to keep herself upright, she wept in the shadows.
She didn’t know how much time passed while she was sobbing in the darkened alley, but after awhile there were footsteps behind her, and then there were hands on the bare skin of her shoulders.
“Ashe,” Balthier said, his voice infinitely more gentle and soft than it had been when he had caught her on the streets. She shoved herself upwards with all the force she could muster, turning quickly to face him, not bothering to wipe the tears from her cheeks. It was far too late to try and save face now, for her mask was gone, and any barriers she might have constructed around her emotions were nowhere to be found.
“Leave me be!” she cried out at him, balling her hands into fists by her sides.
“Ashe,” he repeated, raising a hand to her, and she stepped backwards to avoid falling within range.
“You want to accuse me of allowing liberties?” she exclaimed, effectively cutting him off with several erratic waves of her hands. “You wish to take offense to them?”
He was silent, but she could see his brows furrow, and the worry lines appeared around the sides of his lips.
“Perhaps you should look more upon yourself,” she spat, not caring how undignified she was acting, and caring even less that her eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, and that the tears were still running rivulets down her cheeks, dripping from her jaw line onto the boards beneath her feet.
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he told her. He was becoming angry, and she was afraid that she would lose her fire.
“What is she to you?” she cried out, nearly choked completely by the lump in her throat. Her question stopped him, and he frowned at her in confusion.
“Who?” he asked. “If this is about Elza again, I already told you-“
“Fran,” she cut him off, and then there was silence in the alleyway, hanging low around their heads. It was felt as if it were closing in around them, growing smaller and smaller as they stared each other down in the shadows. Then he ducked his head, breaking the contact.
“Ashe,” he said, moving towards her, and she backed away once again, feeling anger bubbling in her chest. It was mingling with her tears and causing her vision to swirl, but she stood her ground.
“I will not be played with,” she seethed, her voice hitching once. “I am not one that you can dangle like a common harlot.”
He was advancing closer, and as she took another step backwards, she found herself against the wall of one of the buildings, unable to move further. She pressed her back against it as flat as she could, and she glared up at him with all of her might, but none of it seemed to have any effect at all, and then he was kissing her, his hands holding the sides of her tear-streaked face.
Suddenly, she couldn’t make sense of any of her thoughts, because all she could feel were his lips against hers, and the fact that it was making her knees very weak. Everything was a blur, albeit a much more enjoyable one than it had been previously, but she couldn’t think, and she couldn’t move, and all she could do was kiss him back like her life depended on it.
“Princess,” a voice said, and her eyes snapped open. Balthier broke away instantly and stepped back, and Ashe let out a small gasp to see Basch standing at the junction of the alley with the street, his expression hard and unreadable. He was glaring at Balthier, not her, and sensing the distraction of both men, she took her chance to run from the alleyway in perhaps the greatest act of cowardice she had ever partaken in.
Unable to make a coherent thought, she simply ran until she could move no longer.
o.0.o.0.o.
It was very late when she finally made her way to the Aerodrome on the edge of town, the stars reflecting on the surface of the ocean to her right. There was little sound save for the crickets’ hum and the gentle rhythm of the lapping waves, and her footsteps as she made her way towards the structure sounded loud and out of place.
The aerodrome was very dark, with only a few lanterns mounted to the walls that gave off flickering bits of light that danced among the blackness. She moved slowly through the dome, hoping that she remembered the way to the dock where the Strahl was being kept.
She found the airship easily enough, even in the near darkness, but she was surprised to find that the hatch was still down, and there was a figure seated on the slanting steps, head propped up on one hand, gaze focused downwards. Ashe slowed immediately and nearly stopped, but she was far too tired to stay away from the prospect of rest any longer, and she forced her feet to continue forward towards the lit opening.
Balthier looked up at the sound of her approaching footsteps and quickly rose to his feet, saying nothing but scanning his face with his usual level of shrewdness. Ashe hung a few steps back from the slanted hatch, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. She felt foolish, acting so anxious in the presence of a comrade in arms, but it had been several years since she had felt such knots in her stomach, and she was ill-equipped to dealing with them.
There was a long period of silence between them, and then Balthier pulled his gaze away and stared off into the shadows behind the airship.
“We’re partners,” he said. “We travel together, and we plunder together, and she’s been with me through nearly all of my close scrapes with death, but as far as the feelings go, she is just that. It’s not… how you think.”
Ashe did not respond, but there seemed to be a lightening to the twisting in her abdomen. The sky pirate turned his head once more to meet her eyes again, and he seemed far more hesitant than he had only moments earlier. It was strange to see anxiety written on his features, for he was usually so full of confidence, and perhaps that was what told Ashe that he was telling the truth, and that her fears had been for naught.
“Alright,” she said slowly, nodding once. Balthier cocked his head to one side, gesturing to the open hatch.
“Will you come inside now?” he asked, the wry grin back.
“Have you been waiting up all night?” she inquired instead of answering, walking a few steps to stand before him, stopping only a hand span away.
“Yes,” he said, sobering. “The others were worried.”
She smiled at him, because she knew that reading between the lines his statement meant that he had been anxious about her, and the confession was a welcome one.
“I am a princess,” she told him, dropping the smile and electing for a far more serious expression. “And when I regain my throne, I will be queen. If you are going to do this, you have to mean it. I meant what I said earlier. I will not be played.”
“I know,” he said, and she thought he sounded a bit humbled. There was another moment of quiet, and then she reached out for his hand, grazing his fingers. His reaction was the one she had been hoping for, and his hand closed firmly around her own.
He motioned back to the hatchway again.
“Shall we?” he asked.
“The others?” she questioned.
“I think they will find out eventually,” he grinned, tucking her hand under his arm. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been quite so frightened of the prospect of Basch as a knight.”
Ashe couldn’t stop her smile at that, and her hand felt good safely nestled in the crook of his elbow.
“Alright,” she said once more, and then ducked her head in a sheepish manner. “I am rather tired.”
“I imagine so,” Balthier replied, and with a flourish, led her up into the Strahl. |
