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"Pedigrees aren't always useful," Gladio said with a shrug. He had always been expected to follow this path and while he didn't regret it, he knew it could be a burden on others. "People should be able to follow their hearts, but it's not always the sort of thing that happens."
"They should have the opportunity at least," Basch agrees. As his years advance, he's less sure of the wisdom of letting a mere boy determine his life's fate with a rush decision, but he also isn't sure others deciding for him is any better. Still, this man has a good head on his shoulders, and Basch respects that.
Yes, that is true. Gladio, though, he accepted the path he had been put on. If nothing else, it would let him save his king.
"I guess it did mean I was trained enough to do what needs done."
"I guess it did mean I was trained enough to do what needs done."
Yes, they could. So many men. But they had to try and keep things stabilized at home too.
"No. I'm... not local."
His accent may or may not have given that away. Well, clearly not he supposed.
"No. I'm... not local."
His accent may or may not have given that away. Well, clearly not he supposed.
He'd noticed the accent, but his hardly fit the country -- and king -- he now served. Far be it for him to guess a man's life by marks of his childhood, and he isn't going to ask.
"I suspect you won't be the last soldier from far reaches to journey to the island. But if we're lucky, their missions will have a clear destination."
"I suspect you won't be the last soldier from far reaches to journey to the island. But if we're lucky, their missions will have a clear destination."
"Perhaps I won't be. But for now, I'm what my homeland could spare."
They had their own problems with empires going on.
They had their own problems with empires going on.
"I fear that's the case for many of us."
It certainly was for him. They were closer to home, he suspected, but the empire was still weak from the war, and chaos at home required careful monitoring. They couldn't spare many. Really, they couldn't spare him, but there was no one else who could do the duty and be trusted with the information.
It certainly was for him. They were closer to home, he suspected, but the empire was still weak from the war, and chaos at home required careful monitoring. They couldn't spare many. Really, they couldn't spare him, but there was no one else who could do the duty and be trusted with the information.
"Then we better win our way through," Gladio says with a smirk. And he offers his hand out to the other man. "I give you my oath I'm not going down without the win here. For the people we care about."
Basch gives a smaller smile, but he means it, clasping the man's hand. "For the people we care about," he agrees.
They aren't at camp much longer, and sure enough, they're able to bunk together with a few other men. The boat passage isn't long, a week and a half, but it's slow going, the Mist preventing any enhanced travel. Basch spends what time he can on the deck, ends up running training exercises for interested recruits, but he's glad when they hit solid ground again.
Still, it's eerie. There are the tumbling ruins of societies long forgotten, but no sign of modern people. As groups disperse out to various target locations, soon it's quiet, just he and Gladio. Basch's eyes are on the sky.
"We should be able to clear some ground before that storm lets out."
They aren't at camp much longer, and sure enough, they're able to bunk together with a few other men. The boat passage isn't long, a week and a half, but it's slow going, the Mist preventing any enhanced travel. Basch spends what time he can on the deck, ends up running training exercises for interested recruits, but he's glad when they hit solid ground again.
Still, it's eerie. There are the tumbling ruins of societies long forgotten, but no sign of modern people. As groups disperse out to various target locations, soon it's quiet, just he and Gladio. Basch's eyes are on the sky.
"We should be able to clear some ground before that storm lets out."
"Sounds about fair," Gladio says, a sword almost as large as himself in hand. "Would be wise. Help set up a basecamp for everyone."
Because he expects some will need to fall back.
Because he expects some will need to fall back.
Basch nods. There will be some that need to fall back, and some who need to be tended, and some who need to be coached. There's too much, really, for how few senior soldiers they have.
"We do what we can. Once that's running, we should be able to go farther afield ourselves."
He doesn't want to wait, but he doesn't want to make foolish mistakes either.
"We do what we can. Once that's running, we should be able to go farther afield ourselves."
He doesn't want to wait, but he doesn't want to make foolish mistakes either.
"Would rather be out there," Gladio agrees. He hates being slowed up, but he knows good tactics.
"How about we split the area in half, take out what we can, and meet back in, say, a few hours?
"How about we split the area in half, take out what we can, and meet back in, say, a few hours?
[ continued from here ]
Basch doesn't respond because Balthier has taken his phone, which Basch quite thinks he should have done before this endeavor started. He resents being convinced to carry one at all, and is replaying tonight's terrible slew of choices for the umpteenth time when he spots Fran, and a moment later, Lady Ashe.
He sucks in a breath, which means he snorts in the pint of water he's been nursing. Rather than sneak out diplomatically, he's now pounding his chest and hacking away at the counter, Balthier grinning like a fox and patting his back as he waves the ladies over.
"One knight, relaxed and loosened, as promised," Balthier says cheerily.
"There is nothing -- relaxing about any of this -- " he wheezes, carefully making eye contact with only the counter.
Basch doesn't respond because Balthier has taken his phone, which Basch quite thinks he should have done before this endeavor started. He resents being convinced to carry one at all, and is replaying tonight's terrible slew of choices for the umpteenth time when he spots Fran, and a moment later, Lady Ashe.
He sucks in a breath, which means he snorts in the pint of water he's been nursing. Rather than sneak out diplomatically, he's now pounding his chest and hacking away at the counter, Balthier grinning like a fox and patting his back as he waves the ladies over.
"One knight, relaxed and loosened, as promised," Balthier says cheerily.
"There is nothing -- relaxing about any of this -- " he wheezes, carefully making eye contact with only the counter.
Were it not for the iron-clad sense of decorum Ashe keeps pulled tight around her like a suit of armor, conducting herself like a queen even while in the most dire of straights and rubbing elbows with pirates - she might have let her surprise show, spotting Basch talking to the top of the bar and avoiding eye contact.
She doesn't have to look at Fran and Balthier to know they're enviably more relaxed about meeting up than she is. Unwilling to be thrown by something as silly as a foolish exchange with a man who is fathoms away from sober Ashe strides toward Basch, her shoulders squared, lips set in a thin line while she focuses on sizing the situation up.
"You must not lose consciousness before we arrive." There's a strange note to her voice, as though she were trying to sound comforting even while laying out a very firm provision. With a resigned sigh Ashe lingers beside Basch, her hand touching his side quickly before withdrawing, wordlessly signaling that she's ready to help him stand if it comes to that.
She doesn't have to look at Fran and Balthier to know they're enviably more relaxed about meeting up than she is. Unwilling to be thrown by something as silly as a foolish exchange with a man who is fathoms away from sober Ashe strides toward Basch, her shoulders squared, lips set in a thin line while she focuses on sizing the situation up.
"You must not lose consciousness before we arrive." There's a strange note to her voice, as though she were trying to sound comforting even while laying out a very firm provision. With a resigned sigh Ashe lingers beside Basch, her hand touching his side quickly before withdrawing, wordlessly signaling that she's ready to help him stand if it comes to that.
Curse those god-forsaken sky pirates. He ought to have known better than the trust they would not pull some childish trick on him. He sees them conferring quietly, Balthier's eyes flashing, and if he weren't already feeling like a dog with his tail between his legs, he very well might snarl at them.
"I assure you I have not drunk myself that far under the table--" he protests, but his words dry up when he feels her glancing touch at his side, and he has to close his eyes and clench his fist because, for a fleeting moment, the conversation that led to that ill-guided message is back in his mind and his body is threatening to take this gesture as meaning something.
"I can go back with these two, milady," he tries to continue, but he's cut off by Balthier's cheery, "Well, since the two of you have this handled, we'll see you tomorrow, hmm?"
"Balthier--" Basch protests but the other two have done what they do best and already slipped away, no doubt more of Balthier's meddling. He's fortunate that he's already flushed from the drinks, because some choice comments are coming back unbidden. She needs someone she can trust to help her loosen up and I've seen the way she looks at you when she doesn't think anyone is watching.
Determined to prove all of them wrong, he slides his stool back and stands, bracing against the counter. Only a little dizzy, though gods above he's going to be hung over tomorrow.
"I can see myself home," he insists, still keeping his eyes carefully averted. He can't right fathom why she's here after that message.
"I assure you I have not drunk myself that far under the table--" he protests, but his words dry up when he feels her glancing touch at his side, and he has to close his eyes and clench his fist because, for a fleeting moment, the conversation that led to that ill-guided message is back in his mind and his body is threatening to take this gesture as meaning something.
"I can go back with these two, milady," he tries to continue, but he's cut off by Balthier's cheery, "Well, since the two of you have this handled, we'll see you tomorrow, hmm?"
"Balthier--" Basch protests but the other two have done what they do best and already slipped away, no doubt more of Balthier's meddling. He's fortunate that he's already flushed from the drinks, because some choice comments are coming back unbidden. She needs someone she can trust to help her loosen up and I've seen the way she looks at you when she doesn't think anyone is watching.
Determined to prove all of them wrong, he slides his stool back and stands, bracing against the counter. Only a little dizzy, though gods above he's going to be hung over tomorrow.
"I can see myself home," he insists, still keeping his eyes carefully averted. He can't right fathom why she's here after that message.
Forgetting herself, she shoots one genuinely panicked look in Fran's direction after hearing Balthier bid them farewell before taking a step backward, working to get control of her expression and grateful Basch isn't looking at her when he gets back to his feet.
"Don't be foolish," she sputters, squaring her shoulders.
"Do you expect me to walk home behind you and pretend we aren't acquainted?" It would be no more ridiculous than those messages that brought her here in the first place - out of concern for his well-being rather than the blindsided curiosity still coursing through her, of course. Shaking her head, Ashe returns to Basch's side and looks up at him resting the urge to lean in and duck her head in an effort to catch his eye and make him look at her.
She tells herself it doesn't matter if he looks at her right now, and thus refrains.
"Shall we?" Ashe inclines her head toward the door while trying to figure out how fit he is to navigate on his own.
"Don't be foolish," she sputters, squaring her shoulders.
"Do you expect me to walk home behind you and pretend we aren't acquainted?" It would be no more ridiculous than those messages that brought her here in the first place - out of concern for his well-being rather than the blindsided curiosity still coursing through her, of course. Shaking her head, Ashe returns to Basch's side and looks up at him resting the urge to lean in and duck her head in an effort to catch his eye and make him look at her.
She tells herself it doesn't matter if he looks at her right now, and thus refrains.
"Shall we?" Ashe inclines her head toward the door while trying to figure out how fit he is to navigate on his own.
"I have utterly failed that directive for today and I do not see it improving," he grimaces, and then his shoulders sink lower. He's being too loose with his words and much too familiar with her.
But he grunts at her criticism of his plan, leaning back from the bar and finding he can stand alright. With a deep breath, he meets her eyes briefly before inclining his head. "I meant no disrespect. I simply thought you would wish to go on without me." Away from him. Not -- closer than she usually stands. His traitorous mind notes how lovely she smells, and a fantasy of her in a bath, her climbing onto him after flashes lightning-fast in his mind, and his cheeks flush anew.
He's relieved to focus on the much simpler issue of leaving this damned place. He takes a step, then another. The floor only tilts a little.
"I am going to have Balthier's pretty head for this," he grumbles. These thoughts had been pleasantly buried and locked before that pirate started his meddling, and now he wasn't certain how he was going to manage standing in the same room as her.
But he grunts at her criticism of his plan, leaning back from the bar and finding he can stand alright. With a deep breath, he meets her eyes briefly before inclining his head. "I meant no disrespect. I simply thought you would wish to go on without me." Away from him. Not -- closer than she usually stands. His traitorous mind notes how lovely she smells, and a fantasy of her in a bath, her climbing onto him after flashes lightning-fast in his mind, and his cheeks flush anew.
He's relieved to focus on the much simpler issue of leaving this damned place. He takes a step, then another. The floor only tilts a little.
"I am going to have Balthier's pretty head for this," he grumbles. These thoughts had been pleasantly buried and locked before that pirate started his meddling, and now he wasn't certain how he was going to manage standing in the same room as her.
Watching him take a few steps Ashe prepares herself and moves forward, her hand catching his upper arm and resting there, trying to steady him while they both move to the door and the street behind - something she hopes is quieter than the establishment they're leaving.
"Perhaps tomorrow you'll awake having forgotten all this?" And why does that make her feel a pang of resentment, aware that she won't have that luxury when morning comes, and that some part of her will forever wonder how much sincerity fueled those clumsily issued but still deeply bold statements.
She makes a face after hearing the sky pirate's name, scowling at the street ahead of them.
"I'll gladly aid you in that pursuit." Then again, had she not ignored his words and followed Fran, she wouldn't be in this situation, but a night spent pacing her bedroom and fuming over those messages wouldn't have turned out any more restful than this.
"How do you fare?" Ashe asks, sounding unsure of herself as the hand on his arm tenses fleetingly.
"Perhaps tomorrow you'll awake having forgotten all this?" And why does that make her feel a pang of resentment, aware that she won't have that luxury when morning comes, and that some part of her will forever wonder how much sincerity fueled those clumsily issued but still deeply bold statements.
She makes a face after hearing the sky pirate's name, scowling at the street ahead of them.
"I'll gladly aid you in that pursuit." Then again, had she not ignored his words and followed Fran, she wouldn't be in this situation, but a night spent pacing her bedroom and fuming over those messages wouldn't have turned out any more restful than this.
"How do you fare?" Ashe asks, sounding unsure of herself as the hand on his arm tenses fleetingly.
The touch on his arm is like the jarring static of thick Mist. It addles his senses, too present to ignore and too ephemeral to grasp. Why is she staying so close to his side, after her--
Gods, was Balthier right? Was she...? Somehow that thought is even more terrifying than the thought that he's misstepped.
"I would rather face the consequences of my actions than not know why someone's engagement with me has changed," he says with a shake of his head that he immediately regrets. He staggers, just for a step, and her hand keeps him upright. The cool night air helps too, sobering, more real somehow. Her hand tightens, asking how he is, and he winces, but this time he stops, turns, and meets her eyes.
"I don't understand why you're here. I was grossly out of line."
He doesn't notice his hand going to cover hers until it's already there.
Gods, was Balthier right? Was she...? Somehow that thought is even more terrifying than the thought that he's misstepped.
"I would rather face the consequences of my actions than not know why someone's engagement with me has changed," he says with a shake of his head that he immediately regrets. He staggers, just for a step, and her hand keeps him upright. The cool night air helps too, sobering, more real somehow. Her hand tightens, asking how he is, and he winces, but this time he stops, turns, and meets her eyes.
"I don't understand why you're here. I was grossly out of line."
He doesn't notice his hand going to cover hers until it's already there.
"I was concerned for your safety!" Ashe ruffles defensively, too rattled to notice his hand on hers. "You...didn't seem yourself." She could navigate a room full of diplomats with command and ease, but a conversation about the things he said? Like this? She's never felt more at sea, and raising her hackles however slightly comes easily.
"Perhaps you were under duress and sending a coded distress message, or–" It sounds ridiculous the moment it leaves her mouth and Ashe loathes herself for grasping at straws like this, aware Basch can see her fumbling for reasons why he would send her something so uncouth and desirous.
"I know not why you would wait until you were in such a state to say things like that to me."
"Perhaps you were under duress and sending a coded distress message, or–" It sounds ridiculous the moment it leaves her mouth and Ashe loathes herself for grasping at straws like this, aware Basch can see her fumbling for reasons why he would send her something so uncouth and desirous.
"I know not why you would wait until you were in such a state to say things like that to me."
If he were entirely himself perhaps he'd manage something more clever or strategic to say in response to her increasingly confusing words, but instead his heart is getting tighter in his chest. His eyes are fixed on her face, like he'll be able to peer into her head and somehow understand, and his mouth opens in silent incredulity. His knees feel like they've gone to flan and the ground is spinning again.
"I was sure they would be rejected," he blurts out, immediately cursing himself. If only he had a fraction of Balthier's tongue. "It's not proper for a knight to-- I wish to serve you to the best of my ability." Gods, now he's flushing again. Double entendre will be his undoing. Drat Balthier. Drat this entire evening.
But her hand hasn't moved from under his, and he tightens his fingers ever so lightly around hers. Did she want him to...? How did he even go about...?
"Balthier said perhaps it would help, for you to relax, if-- Not that it was only his idea. Not that I'd been considering. But now that I have, I--"
He has the simultaneous urge to run down this street and never look any of them in the eye again, and to dip his head and kiss those frowning lips, and so he does nothing but cling to her hand, heart hammering and tongue running away with itself.
"If you want me to ask you again, more composedly, I will. And if you never want to speak of this again, then it is forever sealed."
"I was sure they would be rejected," he blurts out, immediately cursing himself. If only he had a fraction of Balthier's tongue. "It's not proper for a knight to-- I wish to serve you to the best of my ability." Gods, now he's flushing again. Double entendre will be his undoing. Drat Balthier. Drat this entire evening.
But her hand hasn't moved from under his, and he tightens his fingers ever so lightly around hers. Did she want him to...? How did he even go about...?
"Balthier said perhaps it would help, for you to relax, if-- Not that it was only his idea. Not that I'd been considering. But now that I have, I--"
He has the simultaneous urge to run down this street and never look any of them in the eye again, and to dip his head and kiss those frowning lips, and so he does nothing but cling to her hand, heart hammering and tongue running away with itself.
"If you want me to ask you again, more composedly, I will. And if you never want to speak of this again, then it is forever sealed."
There is nothing about this conversation that has gone in a way Ashe could have foreseen. His hand tightens around hers and her heart jumps into her throat, part of her ready to be affronted that someone would dare get so familiar with her. Instead, she finds herself turning more towards him until her other hand can rest further down his arm even though she knows it means she can no longer write this off as merely trying to steady him.
"You're drunk," she whispers, still frowning and aware that not even the lowering of her voice can fully conceal the tremble that clings to it.
"You cannot know what you are offering. I'm a widow. We... What future could there be for us?" For all the reasons she can think to give him, that she doesn't wish for closeness with him isn't among them, and while Balthier - and possibly Basch - might see what he's proposing as a tryst, Ashe simply doesn't think in those terms. If he wishes to be with her like that, it won't be something that she can easily wash her hands of once their time on the road is through and Dalmasca is restored.
Scowling, her forehead wrinkles as she tries to look more irate than flabbergasted. "Will you ask me again?" If he does, then he means it, and it's meant to be something to consider rather than something that perplexes and frustrates her utterly as it is now.
"You're drunk," she whispers, still frowning and aware that not even the lowering of her voice can fully conceal the tremble that clings to it.
"You cannot know what you are offering. I'm a widow. We... What future could there be for us?" For all the reasons she can think to give him, that she doesn't wish for closeness with him isn't among them, and while Balthier - and possibly Basch - might see what he's proposing as a tryst, Ashe simply doesn't think in those terms. If he wishes to be with her like that, it won't be something that she can easily wash her hands of once their time on the road is through and Dalmasca is restored.
Scowling, her forehead wrinkles as she tries to look more irate than flabbergasted. "Will you ask me again?" If he does, then he means it, and it's meant to be something to consider rather than something that perplexes and frustrates her utterly as it is now.
He's hurt her by letting this be the way his desire surfaced, and yet he can't be entirely sorry, because this conversation is happening, and he'd never have dared otherwise.
But she talks of a future, and his lips press tightly. Inside, he wants to assuage those concerns; he already knows he would follow her to the ends of the world if she'd have him, as her lover, if she wanted yes, but as her knight. He's no fool though. He's a war criminal, and she is a queen, and some day she will need an heir, and the most he can offer her is a steady presence and a warm bed when she wishes it. If she wishes a husband, he is a poor option.
And yet, some part of him wants to argue it anyway, and that is unlike him, and so he keeps it buried, tries to start packing those feelings away again.
Except that question is not a demand he leave this be. He doesn't trust his read of words and tone, but the arm on his...
"Yes," he says, flushing as he does, even if he forces himself to hold her eye. If he's made himself a fool, he may as well lay the truth before her. "I--" Gods, why is speech so difficult? "Have feelings for you." It feels like too big an admission, and yet woefully short of what he wants to say.
"But you deserve that confession when I am sober, if you'll have it."
But she talks of a future, and his lips press tightly. Inside, he wants to assuage those concerns; he already knows he would follow her to the ends of the world if she'd have him, as her lover, if she wanted yes, but as her knight. He's no fool though. He's a war criminal, and she is a queen, and some day she will need an heir, and the most he can offer her is a steady presence and a warm bed when she wishes it. If she wishes a husband, he is a poor option.
And yet, some part of him wants to argue it anyway, and that is unlike him, and so he keeps it buried, tries to start packing those feelings away again.
Except that question is not a demand he leave this be. He doesn't trust his read of words and tone, but the arm on his...
"Yes," he says, flushing as he does, even if he forces himself to hold her eye. If he's made himself a fool, he may as well lay the truth before her. "I--" Gods, why is speech so difficult? "Have feelings for you." It feels like too big an admission, and yet woefully short of what he wants to say.
"But you deserve that confession when I am sober, if you'll have it."
"Feelings for-" Her eyes go wide and there's no long-learned lesson on etiquette that can keep her surprise off her face. Ashe has never let herself think about the way Basch makes her feel in any detail, pushing aside those pangs as they arise with ease, but to hear him drunkenly confessing to having grappled with the same is perhaps even more shocking than his poor attempt at coming onto her.
"You should rest now and, tomorrow, if you truly intend to confess such things to me, confess them then." They should both bear the burden of having clear heads for what she's already imagining will be an impossibly difficult conversation to navigate.
Even though she tells him to rest, she still doesn't move, caught between wondering if he'll kiss her and chiding herself for wanting such a thing from him while he's too intoxicated for her to be certain he means it.
Her heart flutters against her ribcage, anxious about how unfamiliar this is, despite having already undergone the motions of courtship and marriage. This is so different from how Rasler made her feel it may as well be emotions invoked by a completely different turn of events.
"Go rest, before you make fools of both of us."
"You should rest now and, tomorrow, if you truly intend to confess such things to me, confess them then." They should both bear the burden of having clear heads for what she's already imagining will be an impossibly difficult conversation to navigate.
Even though she tells him to rest, she still doesn't move, caught between wondering if he'll kiss her and chiding herself for wanting such a thing from him while he's too intoxicated for her to be certain he means it.
Her heart flutters against her ribcage, anxious about how unfamiliar this is, despite having already undergone the motions of courtship and marriage. This is so different from how Rasler made her feel it may as well be emotions invoked by a completely different turn of events.
"Go rest, before you make fools of both of us."
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