Ever At Your Service [Part XIII]
Title: Ever At Your Service [Part XIII]
Fandom: Final Fantasy XII
Characters: Basch/Ashe
Rating: T
Summary: Gabranth interrupts Ashe’s attempt to destroy the Sun-cryst; Ashe and Basch discuss a happier future.
“Yet without power,” Gabranth says to Ashe, and the muscles all over Basch’s body tense, ready to spring at his brother to protect his princess, “what future can you claim? What good a kingdom you cannot defend.”
Basch steps forward. The Pharos lighthouse has not been kind to them - they all bear weeping cuts, bruises, and Balthier bears worse on his right arm from an unfortunate account with a Crusader - but the least kind of all the monsters Basch has seen here is his brother.
“Then I will defend queen and kingdom both!” With the light from the Sun-cryst behind him he is able to see Gabranth better. It is difficult to imagine Noah beneath that armor when all Basch can remember is a happy teenage boy racing his brother to the lake…
“Hah! Defend? You? You who failed Landis and Dalmasca? What can shame hope to keep safe?” Gabranth’s words cut for deep, for Basch’s failures haunt his nightmares constantly. Images of Rasler with the arrow protruding from his chest, of Gabranth standing over him, telling him of the impending downfall of Dalmasca, of Ashe laying in the snow, her blood tinting it red…
Of the Archadians swarming Ronsenburg as they took Landis’ capitol. He cringes as Gabranth goes on, trying to shake the thought.
“Your shield is shattered! Your oaths poison to those you would protect!”
Gabranth takes a blade in each hand and raises them, poised to attack. Basch raises his sword and points the tip at his brother, aware of Ashe behind him, clutching her Treaty-Blade.
“Stay back,” he says to her, hoping the others will heed as well. “This is between myself and Gabranth.”
“He killed my father,” she reminds him, as though he needs it, and Basch knows she has no intention of staying behind him. He feels her step up to his side and they are united in their hatred of Gabranth. He wonders if she can handle the battle, for he knows she is still shaken by the appearance of Rasler’s ghost, the sound of the Occuria speaking through him.
But he is proud of Ashe and her decision to forsake the stone and warmed by her desire to stay at his side.
If only he’d been so strong in the past.
He raises his sword to his brother - Ashe does the same - and they rush forward to take on the Judge.
Seventeen year old Basch stands atop a watch tower over the gates of Ronsenburg, Landis. He is lonely tonight - normally he is placed with his brother at the front gate, but Noah was due for a night off, so Basch volunteered to handle the watch alone.
It didn’t much matter, he felt, as the gates were always quiet after mid-afternoon. Travelers did not come to Ronsenburg often. Landis is a small land and Ronsenburg is a small town, though it was the capitol. Basch leans against the battlement wall and looks down at the tall, lush grass below, watching it ripple as the wind came in from the East.
He paces for a while, then watches the grass, then paces until past midnight. He looks up to the moon and stars and realizes his watch is only half over and groans. At least with Noah he has someone to tell jokes with.
This was a job for foot soldiers, he thought, not knights, and certainly not one of the fon Ronsenburg boys who were the best Ronsenburg had seen in years. They are the pride of the village - descendants of the city’s founders and the closest to royalty the democratic nation has.
“Basch,”comes a hiss from behind and below. He jumps and looks down the wall to see Karla. He grins at her and waves, for it is impossible for Basch not to grin for Karla. He has known her his whole seventeen years and, he is sure in his young mind, loved her even longer.
“What are you doing out here so late? It may not be safe.” The declaration of possible danger makes him feel important, like he is somehow protecting her, and that is his job after all.
“I wanted to see you!” Her words make Basch feel a bit lighter. She’s barely seemed to notice him lately.
It is against every rule he knows, but he does it anyway because he wants nothing more than to see her. He presses a finger to his lips to tell her to keep quiet, then points to the ladder used to reach the top of the wall. She nods, and he watches as she climbs up to reach him, her little pink dress moving around her in the wind. Basch meets her at the top and helps her over, grinning even more when she stumbles into his arms.
“Oops,” she giggles. He keeps his arms around her, swaying with her on the spot as though they were dancing. She laughs even more when he takes her hand and spins her around before pulling her back, closer than before. Basch is young and cares for little more than how close he can get to Karla now that she is before him.
“Won’t you be in trouble if they see me?”
“Well then we should make sure they don’t see you,” he says. Together, they kneel down, enclosed by the upper walls of the battlement, and sit down on the walk. Basch wraps his arm around her, suddenly grateful that his brother took the evening off.
“Aren’t you supposed to be watching?”
“What is there to watch?” he asks and gestures toward the empty fields that lay outside Ronsenburg. “It is the middle of the night. No one is coming.”
“Well, in that case…” She grins and captures Basch’s lips in a kiss, gripping at his shirt and pulling him even closer, and he can’t help himself. The night air gets to them both.
It isn’t until the Archadians fire upon the city that he is aware of them. It isn’t until they’re ramming the gate that he can yell, and when he reaches the alarm bells twenty feet away, it is too late. They have the town. They have Landis and his pride.
Gabranth steps back from the battle as it reaches a natural pause, though he never leaves his battle stance. Basch glances to Ashe at his left - she is gripping her sword and panting from exertion. She grits her teeth and he can see the anger is still fresh in her eyes. The loss of her family is new again after seeing Rasler’s face and the man she can blame stands before her. Should Gabranth alter and she have a chance, he is certain his brother will meet his death. Basch hears Balthier at his side, stepping in for Vaan, who took a hard blow to his back. Basch looks back to Noah, wishing he could see his twin’s face, for it is so unlike his own in many ways.
Basch wants his king’s murderer dead, but he does not want to kill his brother.
Once again, he is trapped.
“Hear me, Basch!” Gabranth cries. “Do not think killing the kingslayer will win you back your honor! When you abandoned home and kin, your name was forever stained with blood.”
Basch yells, rushes forward, and engages Gabranth once more.
“It was your fault?” Basch’s mother asks, though she already knew the answer. Noah stands behind her, disgusted, sneering at his brother. The twins had been close, but Noah had always had a harsh edge that Basch did not. His sense of honor had been higher, his definition of the word different.
“Yes, mother. I did not see them in time.”
“There is nothing around the city!” she cries. Basch cringes at his mother’s disappointment and looks away from her. He cannot look to his brother for comfort either. He can hear yelling from the outside, the town’s people crying and screaming at the imperials, though it will do no good. “There is nothing for them to hide behind.”
“I am sorry.” He cannot admit why he did not see them coming. He cannot say it. He is too ashamed.
Their mother coughs, and Noah rushes forward, handing her a handkerchief. When she calms and pulls it away, Basch catches a glimpse of the blood. The day has been too much, and now he is reminded that his mother is dying. He wishes he could disappear.
“What shall we do?” Noah asks.
“Leave. Go home.”
Home. For their mother that is Archades. It has always been Archades. Basch looks out the nearby window to see the chaos in the streets. He sees imperials giving orders to the free townspeople - sees them striking down those who would oppose them - and Basch knows he cannot go to Archadia. He cannot venture into the homeland of these monsters.
“Perhaps further south,” he suggests, looking to his brother pleadingly. Surely Noah would understand, for he too is a knight of Landis. “Perhaps to Rozarria in the west?”
“We will go home,” his mother declares. Noah glares at his brother and turns away, preparing to pack. Basch follows him.
“How can you agree to go there?” Basch does not understand. “Do you not see what they are doing?”
“Archadia is stronger than any other kingdom,” he says. “Why not fight for them? Why not join them?”
“You would be one of them?” Basch points out the window to the soldiers. “You would do this to another nation?”
“Better to conquer than be conquered.”
Basch looks to his mother who stares at him with such disdain that it chills him to the bone. “How could you let this happen?”
“It was a mistake,” he repeats.
“A mistake that has cost you your legacy. Your homeland.”
“I am sorry, mother.”
“If you do not wish to come to Arcadia then go on your own way. Noah can care for me far better than you can.”
Basch is stunned at his mother’s harsh words. She had never been a warm woman - she’d always blamed their father for leaving her in Landis, away from her home, and Basch suspected she never forgave her sons for their unwillingness to leave their homeland for hers - but she’d never spoken to him this way. He looks over his shoulder to Noah, his brother and best friend, and is met only with his turned back.
“You would have me leave, brother?”
Noah turns and looks upon Basch. “You have failed Landis as I have - had you not been alone, Ronsenburg would not have been invaded. I am to blame as you are, but you shall bear the shame, not I. Go where you choose.”
Basch thinks for a long moment, watching his brother gather their mother’s clothing. Watching Noah should have been like watching himself in a mirror, but it is not. Noah’s movements are shorter, more precise than his own, and Basch does not think he could ever look on anyone with such distain, especially his brother. He could never imitate the hardness in Noah’s eyes.
“I cannot go with you.”
“Do as you will.”
Basch looks to his mother. “Shall I see you again?” His throat is tight - he has never considered being separated from his family at such a young age - seventeen is too young, far too young when he’d always thought his brother would be by his side.
“Only if you wish to shame me.”
Basch feels his face burn red - his face, yet untouched by age, war and love, a face yet untried by life. “As you wish,” he says. He bows to his mother and turns, leaving the only home he’s ever known without bothering to gather his belongings. He moves to the stable, takes the reins of his Chocobo, and slips from Ronsenburg, hoping all the while that some imperial will see him and sentence him to death.
When he survives, Basch decides to ride south to Dalmasca, a land he has never seen.
Gabranth steps back, beaten for the moment. Basch can hear his gasping for air and knows his brother cannot take much more. If they were to go another round, he would surely fall.
“So you too would leave your debts unpaid?”
“Enough of this!” Basch starts at the sound of a new voice, and from the corner of his eye he sees Balthier flinch. “I can bear no more.”
Gabranth turns as Dr. Cid enters the room. “You disappoint me, Gabranth. He trusted you.”
When Cid shoves Gabranth, Basch has to force himself to not attack the man himself - Balthier’s father or not. Only he can shove Noah…
But this is not Noah. The Noah that Basch grew up with is either dead or buried deep within the Judge Magister before him, and he knows he will likely never look upon his brother again.
“When you bared steel against the Princess, you foreswore your obligations to your emperor!” Cid speaks to Gabranth without looking at him. “You shame yourself and make mockery of Lord Larsa’s trust. You are unfit to serve him as sword or shield. And so I release you from that service. Your presence is neither required nor welcome.”
Cid steps forward, but Basch keeps his attention on Gabranth. He sees the judge’s hands start shaking around the hilt of his sword, and when he raises his sword to strike Cid in the back Basch cries out.
“Gabranth!” The word - his mother’s maiden name, for Noah had long forsaken their father - still feels strange in Basch’s mouth.
Where Cid had been Venat appears, and Gabranth’s sword strikes through the Occurian, making it disappear. Cid appears to Gabranth’s left, and with a burst of energy, the scientists sends him soaring through the air and into a stone pillar. Basch watches in horror as his brother crumples to the ground, his head hung, seemingly dead at the base of the column. He cringes and looks away as Balthier begins to speak…
The back of the Strahl is a welcome sight after such a harrowing experience. Basch sits quietly on the bench and considers the day. Reddas’ sacrifice. Venat’s control of Dr. Cid. The death of the good doctor. The destruction of the Sun-cryst. Gabranth’s slander. The sight of his brother laying defeated, maybe dead at the base of the column, but there’d been no time to go check, no time to see if he could be saved.
He could not save Noah and Ashe, and he’d made his choice.
Basch looks into the cockpit and watches as Penelo approaches Balthier and lays a hand on his shoulder. The unflappable sky pirate jumps and looks at her, his eyes a bit wider and redder than usual.
“Penelo, you startled me. I see you’ve mastered the art of walking silently.”
She does not chuckle. Good natured Penelo cannot be deterred. “Are you alright, Balthier?” Basch had wanted to ask the same question, but it only invited an awkward moment between the two men. Besides, he would not forego watching Penelo make such a touching display.
“I am fine. Just a few scratches. I may be needing your able hands to stitch -“
“That isn’t what I meant.”
Balthier sighs and looks from her to the sky ahead. “Yes. I know.”
Penelo slides into Fran’s seat - the Viera has gone to wash up - and looks at Balthier kindly. “I’m sorry. I know how hard it is… losing a parent.”
“And you shouldn’t,” Balthier says. Basch sees him reach over to her and take her small hand in his own. “Thank you for your concern, Penelo.”
They fall silent, and Basch watches them for a long time. She does not let go of his hand.
As Fran walks back through, Basch stands. “Where is Lady Ashe?”
“She rests in the bedroom, though she does not sleep.”
He nods, and they pass each other. Basch slips into the galley and searches the cabinets until he finds tea, then proceeds to make two cups. He fixes Ashe’s just the way she likes it - cream and two teaspoons of sugar - and carries them to the bedroom. He knocks with his elbow and listens as Ashe shuffles around inside before opening the door. Her eyes are redder than Balthier’s and she is wrapped up in one of the blankets.
“Forgive me for disturbing you,” Basch says, “but I thought you might like some tea.”
She smiles, thanks him hoarsely, and takes her cup from his hand. Basch stands in the doorway, unsure of what to do, until she looks back at him. “Are you coming in?”
“Do you seek solitude?”
She shakes her head and gestures to the spare bed, which he sits on after closing the door. She holds her tea carefully, as her hands are still shaking.
“Are you well?”
“Shaken,” she admits, “though I am sure you are far more disturbed by the day’s events.”
“My brother chose his path. I cannot change what he has done.”
“He killed my father and took your good name,” she says. Basch drinks his tea, wishing it were something stronger, and cringes as it burns his tired throat.
“I was far more concerned with him hurting you.”
“Do you think he escaped?”
Basch looks out the window and sees only the sea stretching far into the distance to meet the sky. “I do not know. I do not see how he could have.”
Ashe falls silent for a long moment. Her body aches and she imagines her muscles separating from the very bones they have been charged to move, but move she does. She sets her cup down on the table under the window and moves over to where Basch sits. She doesn’t give him space - she sits right beside him and stares at him.
“You cannot possibly be alright,” she says. Basch makes no motion to argue. He tries to remain calm, but it becomes more and more difficult as he attempts to wrap his mind around his brother’s apparent death. He wants to forget that he saw Noah again, just forget the entire day, but it is impossible with Ashe beside him, her presence and comforting hand between his shoulders reminding him that something is wrong, very wrong.
“I will be,” he assures her. “I am just a bit shaken, like you.”
“I had seen Rasler’s ghost before.”
The confession startles Basch a bit and he looks down at her. “When?”
“The first time was at Raithwall’s tomb. I saw him again with the Garif, and in my dreams. I thought it was actually him.”
He frowns at her, confused. “You could have told me.”
“How am I supposed to talk about him with you?” Basch must admit that it would be a difficult topic, but he’d assumed she would come to him with anything that bothered her. He looks away from her again. It is clear she doesn’t trust him and that cuts him deep.
In how many ways has he failed her?
“You can tell me anything,” he assures her, knowing she will not listen. “You should know that by now.”
“We have been lying to ourselves, Basch. I see that now.”
“I do not understand.”
Ashe sighs and stands, moving over to the window. She watches the water move beneath them. “Do you remember the night before I married Rasler?”
“How could I forget.”
“You told me that I cloud your judgment. That you cared for me too much - that it was unhealthy and unacceptable.”
“I remember.”
“And I told you that I loved you.”
Basch can see her shoulders moving faster as she breathes harder. These are things she has been waiting to say, but he does not know how to reply. The day has been trying and he is sure her patience wears thin. What can he say that will not offend her?
“I recall.”
“You didn’t reply in kind.”
“I was… uncertain.”
“How could I discuss my husband with you when you know I loved you upon my marriage?”
“I am not prying for information, majesty,” Basch says, getting to his feet. “I only wanted you to know that you can come to me with anything.”
“I loved him.” Her voice shakes, but Basch dares not approach her, despite his need to comfort her and desire for comfort from her. There is a part of him that still refuses to believe they escaped Pharos at all. “I did, or at least I tried to. We had been friends for a long time… growing up in such close nations, but…” She trails off.
“Princess?”
“But I always wondered. I always wondered how things would have been different if you had loved me too.”
“I did love you.” The words escape before Basch can stop them, and he regrets them as soon as they are in the ether. He cannot take them back. He cannot uncomplicated what he has complicated, but if he is honest with himself, he knows things have been complicated since that night.
The world had changed around them, but they had remained the same even when they did not know it.
“I watch you,” she whispers, her voice hoarse. “When you fight, when you gather firewood, when you sharpen our weapons… I did it not knowing why, but then I realized that I am terrified of losing you again. I almost did.”
“I nearly lost you as well.” Simply thinking of Ashe lying limp in his arms is enough to turn his bones cold.
“I need to know now, Basch. Do you still care for me? More than is healthy and acceptable? Do I still cloud your judgment?”
“Always.”
She does not turn, but he can see her reflection in the window. He moves toward her, slow and careful, then raises his hands to her arms. She leans back into him and he holds hI amer, resting his head atop hers. When she raises her hands to his, he finds comfort. Yes, Reddas was gone. Yes, Gabranth was likely dead and yes, Balthier was grieving, but there was hope. If they can stop Vayne… if they can restore Dalmasca, then maybe Basch can take up his sword and defend his queen again.
It seems Ashe is thinking of the same matters. “If we make it back to Rabanastre, is there a future for you and I?”
“I would not be worthy of you, Princess,” he says, feeling her hair against his cheek. “I am a knight, not a prince. I am seventeen years your senior.”
“I do not care,” she says, looking up at him over her shoulder. “I will restore your name and your position when I am crowned. What will your excuse be then?”
“I have failed Dalmasca and Landis as well as my family. I would still not be worthy. I am not worthy to touch you now - it is an honor that you permit it.”
Ashe smiles a bit and looks out the window. Basch always did have his moments of eloquence. “Can we not place all of that aside?”
He sighs and turns his face against her neck, seeking he comfort of her warmth, if only for a moment. It is a bold move, one he would never make during times less trying. “I do not know.”
“When we get back to Rabanastre, I think we should try.”
“When we get back to Rabanastre, I think we should sleep.”
Ashe laughs and closes her eyes, reaching up and running her fingers through Basch’s hair. It is all he can do not to moan at the sensation. “Princess…”
“I still love you.” Ashe has always been very open with her emotions in his company. She was self-aware, even as a child. “As both a friend and… well, something more.”
“And I still love you.” The words are difficult and he nearly stumbles over them, for he is a knight and knights to not make such confessions to princesses. It is improper, wrong and against the moral code, but Basch has seen how short life is, and it has awakened a thirst in him to follow what is left of his heart.
“Then… we shall see?”
He kisses Ashe’s temple in response, trying his hardest to be open to the idea, though a sense of foreboding keeps him from being hopeful. There is a fight coming, he knows, and should he have to lay down his life for her, he knows he will without a second thought.
“We shall see.”
Author's Note: This chapter refused to cooperate with me. First, I just couldn't put together the Pharos scene, which is why it starts in the middle. Then I couldn't get the Landis part together. Then Ashe decided, all on her own, that she wanted to have that little talk with Basch and so she did, completely without my consent.
She's quite a handful, that Ashe.
Not so great, but real life stepped in today -- I'm not a fan of that "real life" stuff. More ASAP!