Final Fantasy XII 1. Chapter 1

Conversations and Negotiations between a Pirate and a Princess

_Disclaimer: All known and recognisable characters, locations etc are the intellectual copyright of Square __Enix_

_If any readers have also read chapter 29 of my story 'A Sky Pirate Odyssey' you might recognise some of the text at the beginning of this little __Ficlet__. This is the original version of that chapter which I cut and altered but have now decided, because I thought this scene was rather fun, to __put__ up as a __stand alone__ piece__ - __I have a continuation scene from Ashe's POV too but haven't decided whether to post it yet_

_Reviews and feedback always appreciated!_

**From ****Golmore**** to ****Jahara**

_The old man had a point. _

It was disturbing and as much as Balthier tried strenuously to banish the thought it kept cycling back around to the forefront of his mind. _Cid might be right._

But the means could not, ever, justify the ends. Not the way the old man had gone about it.

_Had he but told me back then!_

But no, he would never have believed Cid, would he? He had convinced himself that his father was mad.

Made of it a grand excuse that saved him from having to despise the old man for the life he had forced on him.

Yet the party's recent sojourn to Giruvegan had opened up a fissure of doubt and question inside Balthier that had never existed before; he did not doubt himself.

Ever.

Until now.

Balthier was too caught up in his own quandary of doubt, questions chasing each other by the tail around and around inside his head, that he barely participated in the group's discussion on how to get back to Balfonheim from Giruvegan.

Therefore the trek back through Golmore passed in a blur. He wielded Platinum blade with autonomic efficiency barely noticing his own movements as he pilfered loot from the carcasses of fallen fiends and poorly hidden treasure chests scattered on the route.

He was, however, aware of the Princess's eyes on his back like a particularly focused beam of heat, trying to bore through his skin and incinerate him where he stood.

Yet whenever he turned to question the Princess on what he had done this time to find himself once again, the subject of her not inconsiderable ire, she swiftly turned away.

This was sufficiently odd to wrest his attention from consideration of his father's many sins, for their dear Princess Ashelia Dalmasca had never been one to resist publicly lambasting him in the past for whatever passing sin she thought he had perpetrated against her dignity simply by breathing.

It was one of those occurrences of blind luck that led to the party stumbling out of the perpetual twilight of Golmore jungle and landing at the feet of Gurdy the travelling Chocobo rancher.

What the cheerfully and extortionately expensive Moogle was doing on the border of the Ozmone Plains and Golmore was a question best left unanswered.

Having decided to make for Rabanastre, the largest city even remotely close to Golmore and the one where the Strahl was docked, the party was unanimously in favour of using what was left their paltry Gil reserves to pay for the loan of three Chocobo's.

Balthier was still a million miles away in the past when the arguments began over whom should ride with whom and so when the Princess dragged one of the huge, spindly legged birds over to him and looked at him expectantly he was somewhat at a loss.

'Balthier?'

'Yes Princess?'

'Do you wish to ride in front?'

Penelo and Vaan were squabbling a few feet away over who would sit in back and who would hold the reins on their bird; the placid bright yellow creature trilling away contentedly while they pushed and shoved each other.

Basch had already gently spurred his mount onwards; Fran sitting with elegant nonchalance on the creature's back looked at him with a curiously raised eyebrow.

_Fran and __Basch?_

Clearly he had been seriously remiss in regards to the ever shifting social dynamics of the group to miss the seismic shift that would result in Basch deigning to ride with anyone but the Princess and Fran choosing to ride with anyone but him.

Shaking his head to clear it and chiding himself vociferously for being so absent minded, which was really hardly becoming of the Leading Man, with its emphasis on _leading, _Balthier grabbed the reins and hauled himself up on the mount.

Ashe deftly swung herself up behind him, using his arm as leverage and nearly dragging him down off the saddle.

Twenty minutes into their ride through the endless tedium of the Ozmone Plains Balthier had come to the conclusion that the Chocobo he and the Princess rode appeared to be in no hurry to go anywhere.

It plodded along with that odd bouncing gait that left one sore and bow legged after any length of time riding, with placid lack of haste.

When he spurred the creature on it simply squarked, turned its head to look at him with an oddly emphatic expression of annoyance in its black beady eyes and continued on at its own interminably steady pace.

Balthier sighed resigning himself to the ignominy of Chocobo travel, fiercely missing the Strahl.

Ahead Vaan and Penelo were having exactly the opposite problem with their mount.

'Trixxy stop – whoaaaaa, Trixxy, whoa!'

Penelo cried yanking on the reins for all she was worth, which only made the sprinting Chocobo that anyone with any knowledge of Chocobo's could have recognised as an irritable bird, run all the faster.

The mad bird started to leap in the air, as if it thought to take flight, even though Chocobo's do not fly, leaping over boulders and snake pits as it zig-zagged across the Ozmone Plains.

' Basch help!'

Basch had spurred on his and Fran's Chocobo to run alongside the manic bird, the valiant (and bloody stupid) Knight leaned over the edge between the two birds and snagged Trixxy's reins pulling the bird by its bit until the creature eventually slowed.

Fran had reached around Basch's body to take the reins of their own mount as well as making sure that Basch did not fall as Trixxy, determined to run free as -well - as a bird, lurched away from Basch, so that the Knight's upper body dangled over the gap between the two at a dangerously precarious angle.

By this point, simply by moving steadily in one direction at unchanging speed, Balthier and Ashe had come up alongside the ludicrous sideshow.

Ashe had begun rummaging around in one of the provisions sacks, tied like ballast bags to their Chocobo, for a Gysahl green.

' Trixxy! Look!'

Ashe cried sharply, her own tones that of a Princess trained to talk down to man and Chocobo alike with absolute authority. The maddened bird turned to fix them both with wild button eyes.

'Squark!'

Ashe threw the Gysahl green a few feet in front of the charging Chocobo who skidded to a halt, clawing up the green veldt of the Ozmone Plains as well as unseating both Vaan and Penelo who tumbled over the creatures bent neck as it lowered its head to feed.

' Oooff! Vaan hit the ground with a bone thudding finality.

' Oooow!' Came Penelo, tumbling after.

'Well that was fun.'

Balthier drawled as Basch dismounted his bird to help the orphans up.

'Perhaps we should switch mounts?' Basch suggested politely, keeping a firm grip on Trixxy's reins.

' Yeah.' Vaan nodded his emphatic agreement, rubbing at his lower back where he had hit the ground with quite a thump.

' But this time I'll drive.'

Vaan glared balefully at Penelo who was picking dry grass stems from her hair and rubbing irritably at the grass stains smearing the seat of her pants.

Penelo distained from comment but meekly clambered up after Vaan once the four of them had switched Chocobo's.

The next hour passed in a jolting, bouncing, sedate blur; so uneventful that Balthier thought he might have fallen asleep still loosely holding the reins. Taking the Chocobo paths cut miles from their journey but made for some exceedingly dull travelling.

Until that is Balthier became aware of something odd going on at his back.

'Princess is there some reason you appear to be unfastening my vest?' He murmured in low aside.

Basch and Fran were leading the way and Vaan and Penelo were quite a distance ahead also, but it didn't mean he wanted to draw undue attention.

He turned his head as much as he could to look at Ashe, who was indeed fiddling with the ties and clasps keeping his vest securely fastened.

'I was curious.' Ashe said distractedly tugging at one of the string bindings up by his shoulder blades.

'I have had little enough to look upon but your back for many hours, after all.' She added archly.

' Curious about what, may I ask?' Balthier inquired politely as the Princess' insistent tugs on his clothing unsteadied his balance on the saddle.

' Gods Balthier,' Ashe muttered so intent on trying to pry her fingers between the fastenings, that she either ignored or did not hear his question.

' How do you dress every morn, or do you have Fran dress you instead?'

Balthier smirked, partly at her words and partly at the undertone to her questioning regarding Fran. Hmmm, this could be quite an entertaining journey after all.

'Practice, Ashe, practice.' He informed her silkily. 'I can show you how it is done, later, if your Highness wishes?'

Ashe's fingers stilled on his vest and she looked up, a slight flush rising in her cheeks.

'That is quite unnecessary, Balthier.'

She said briskly, removing her hands from the fastenings completely and returning them to rest primly against his sides.

He chuckled under his breath and turned his head to face front with a lazy smirk. Ashe's soft words barely carried across to him.

' I shall figure it out on my own, thank you.'

He turned back around, sharply, to see that Ashe had set her hands to the task of fiddling with his clothing once more. She looked up at him irritably.

'Balthier, if you are going to steer, kindly look were you are going.'

He raised an eyebrow not sure whether to be amused or alarmed by the Princess' openly flirtatious, and rather forward, manner.

He was not sure he had ever had a woman attempt to undress him on the back of a Chocobo before.

' So I am to sit idly by while you undress me, is that your command Princess?'

' Yes.' Ashe said as she finally managed to loosen his vest enough that he felt it sag slightly around his shoulders.

' Really Balthier I would think a man such as yourself would be quite happy with this request.'

He could feel a grin playing on his lips. Well, well, the ice Princess was melting was she? And she was in the mood to play, too.

' I am not objecting to this arrangement, Princess, I merely want to set the terms.'

Ashe looked up at his face, stopping her investigation of one of the clasps at the bottom of his vest. 'Terms?'

'Oh, yes, Princess.' He purred.

Yes, indeed, two could play this game and he rather fancied he was more versed in its intricacies than her majesty.

'If I am to indulge your curiosity tis only fair I get something in return.' He winked at her. 'Compensation as it were.'

Ashe looked less pleased with this turn of events, ' I am not going to let you undress me, Balthier.'

His grin widened, suddenly this whole day was looking up. 'Yet that is exactly what you wish to do to me, Princess.' He pointed out reasonably.

' That is not – ' Ashe was flushing richly now, then she scowled. ' I did not plan on removing the vest, only seeing how it fastened.'

He gave her an openly incredulous look, 'You could have simply asked me that, Ashe.'

Ashe had started to look slightly panicked, as he suspected, she didn't know how to play these games. Foolish Princess, when it came to this sort of sport he gave no quarter.

'It is not fair exchange.' She hissed. ' Under the vest you have your shirt. You will still be fully clothed.'

' That you choose to wear so few garments is to your misfortune in these negotiations, not mine, Princess. Fair is fair.'

' I will tell Basch.' Ashe sputtered indignant.

Balthier burst out laughing. The others turned around to look and Balthier waved at the Knight in question cheerfully.

Fran gave him a carefully neutral, yet guarded, look. It was entirely possible she could hear the whole conversation.

' You could certainly tell your Knight Errant, Ashe, and in defence of my life I would be forced to confess the circumstances of how this little conversation transpired. Is that what you want?'

He asked casually in a low whisper over his shoulder, he could just see Ashe's venomous glare.

'This is blackmail.'

He chuckled softly, ' Hardly that, Princess. I am not forcing you to remove my vest, after all. Incidentally I cannot help but notice that you are still trying to remove it, even now.'

Ashe was silent for a long moment, Balthier turned back to face front noticing that the other four had slowed down so that they were close at hand.

Fran turned to give him a look that, while inscrutable to the others, clearly told him he had better know what he was doing for she would have nothing to do with it should Basch find out.

'Hey Balthier, Ashe, you guys okay back there? You seem to be talking about something important.' Vaan called.

Balthier opened his mouth to answer and then shivered as Ashe finally found her way under the vest to slip her hand underneath the tight leather and onward under his shirt to touch his bare skin. Her hand was surprisingly cold.

'A-hem.' He cleared his throat; Ashe scratched her blunt nails over the small of his back.

' Nothing important, Vaan; just war, Nethicite and the depredations of Empire.'

He called to the inquisitive youth in his most urbane and inane voice; Vaan grunted something and immediately turned back to face front, as Balthier knew he would.

'Princess?' He murmured very low, aware of how close the others were. 'You are taking advantage. Touching was not part of our negotiations.'

Ashe leaned closer to his back, her hand still inside his vest, ' I will not be taken advantage of by an opportunistic pirate. I shall have fair exchange.'

Her breath, stroking his ear in heated, husky whisper, sent another shiver down his spine. _Opportunistic?_ _She _was calling _him_ opportunistic? He wasn't even the one who started all this!

' Is that so?' He purred, ' And what do I get, Princess? Or should I choose an item of clothing on my own?'

Keeping his eyes dead ahead he felt Ashe tense and he smirked. Clearly the Princess liked to be the one in charge in _this_ as well as all other things. But alas, he had never been one to take orders from anyone.

' One boot and one of my greaves, once we reach Jahara.'

Ashe said briskly, like one closing a business transaction, which strangely, he found rather arousing.

'Only if I remove them myself Princess.'

He shot back, equally businesslike even as the Princess worked her hand around to his front and her fingers stroked, feather light, over his stomach, her pinky finger tickling his navel.

' Yes, alright. But I'm warning you Balthier, if your hand goes higher than my knee, I'll cut it off.'

Balthier bit back another laugh and replied smoothly.

' In that case, Princess, kindly remove your hand from inside my vest now. I too want fair exchange from this little pact.'

Again he felt her stiffen in surprise and displeasure. My, my Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca must have been spoiled as a child. She clearly expected to have her cake and eat it.

Grudgingly Ashe pulled her hand out of his vest and shirt.

'Very well, Balthier.' She said austerely only causing him to grin all the more.

Ashe had hidden depths it seemed, underneath the icy exterior beat the heart of a common harlot.

What would her down trodden and suppressed subjects say if they knew how their Princess carried on, and with a wanted felon no less?

Or maybe, Balthier reasoned somewhat more kindly, Ashe was just a woman whose husband was stone dead six months after her wedding night and who had been treated as nothing more than a figurehead for the last two and a half years.

She was overdue a little fun and he would be more than happy to provide her with it.

For a price.

' Thank you Princess, now if you would be so kind as to refasten my vest?'

' What?' Ashe demanded obviously not expecting to be asked to clean up her own mess either. Such a princess.

He sighed elaborately, 'I will do the same for you, tonight, Ashe. It is only fair; unless you want me to dismount and do it myself, hmm?'

'Fine.' She huffed and began to tug and fasten him into his vest tight enough to break his ribs.

Balthier grinned all the while. Any way you wanted to look at it, whether the Princess delivered on her side of their bargain or not tonight, he had come off the winner in this little dalliance.

After all, how many other sky pirates could say they had been undressed by a princess, in public, while riding a Chocobo?


	2. Chapter 2

**Jahara**** to the Occupied City of ****Rabanastre**

_Author note: A continuation posted because the marvellous Sapereaude13 herself wanted to see it. Praise from Caesar as they say! _

Leaving the Garif behind the party moved on towards the last leg of their journey before reaching Rabanastre.

As always Ashe had mixed feelings about returning to her home city. On the one hand she longed to see the delicate white towers that always reminded her of fondant icing of her home and to lay eyes on her own palace once more!

Yet returning to Rabanastre still a fugitive, no closer to reclaiming her kingdom and her birthright than when she left months earlier, with nothing to offer the people of Dalmasca who suffered under the yoke of the Empire, pained her as few other things could.

Of course today, Ashe had another preoccupation; one that should not factor into her thoughts at all. That was in fact an affront to her dignity and completely beneath her status.

She was; she had no choice but to admit if only to herself, fairly use to this preoccupation, or rather this _distraction. _

Under the cover of making sure they had packed all their essential provisions and left nothing behind in Jahara, Ashe shot a fast, covert look over at her most persistent preoccupation.

He had not said one word regarding her rather obvious reneging on their 'deal' of the previous day. In fact, Balthier had said nothing at all to Ashe this morn.

All things considered Ashe told herself firmly, she should be very grateful he had not.

Especially as she did not think, for a moment, that Balthier was above blackmail, and she had certainly provided him with enough salacious scandal to be forced to pay him for his silence until they were both in their graves.

What in the name of all the Gods had she been thinking?

Heat, she decided rapidly, her mind scrambling for a defence to justify her actions of the previous day. It was the sun affecting her and the stress.

Yes. That was it, exactly.

She was under a great deal of stress, the very fate of Ivalice, not just Dalmasca, rested upon her shoulders; it was understandable she would look for an outlet for that stress.

An outlet that involved inappropriately touching a damned pirate! A dark voice inside her mind spat at her facile rationalisation for nothing short of adultery. She was still a married woman!

A woman married for two and half years to a dead man. Some other part of Ashe's rapidly unravelling psyche yelled back at the first.

'Princess?'

Ashe spun on her heel so fast she was barely aware of the fact that she had pulled the small dagger from her hip sheath as she turned.

' Ooh!'

She found herself blinking dumbly in surprise her blade edge pressed against the throat of an exceedingly unimpressed Balthier.

' A tad distracted this morning aren't we, Princess?' Balthier drawled raising the free hand that wasn't clasping the reins of a Chocobo, to brush aside her blade.

'Balthier ...what..?'

Ashe tried and failed miserably to marshal her wits, casting a morbidly humiliated gaze over the rest of the party only to find, miraculously, that they had somehow failed to notice, while mounting their own Chocobos, that she had almost slit Balthier's throat by accident.

' I inquired if you wanted to take the reins today, Princess?'

Balthier said rather pointedly snapping her skittish attention back where it ought not to have wavered from.

Ashe considered this.

Yes, she decided, considering what had happened yesterday it was probably infinitely safer for her to be in front.

' Very well, Balthier.'

She acknowledged him with a sharp nod, barely catching the laughter hidden in his sardonic brown eyes as she swung herself up onto the bird.

Scant few minutes into their ride and Ashe was silently and vociferously cursing her stupidity that she could ever have thought, even for one stray moment, that having Balthier at her back under such circumstances could be deemed 'safer'.

The entirety of her being, every inch of skin that came into contact with his, was twitching with his proximity to her.

Ashe was almost excruciatingly aware of Balthier's left hand that rested lightly on her hip.

The heat of his chest against her back as he shifted a little closer to her while trying to get comfortable on their mount, muttering something about saddle sores and the shame of becoming a bow-legged pirate, burned her through her clothes.

Every single second that ticked by she waited for him to say something outrageously indecent to her in that provocative, eminently erudite manner of his.

Every second that went by that he continued to say nothing simply prolonged her torture.

Heart hammering, and almost shivering with anticipation (for what she did not know and she would not let herself imagine either) Ashe spurred on their Chocobo until they were leading the way.

She failed to understand why Balthier had let the bird travel so slowly the day before.

' It was not my fault.'

The words seemed to explode from between her chapped, bitten lips once she was confident they were too far ahead for anyone else to hear them.

'Pardon, Princess?'

Balthier's voice was so deceptively mild she wanted to turn around and slap him.

Admittedly she found herself resisting that urge on a near hourly basis at any rate and would sooner deal with that particular impulse than any of the other _urges _he inspired in her.

' Our agreement, I meant. I would not want you to think that I was raised to renege on agreements made in good faith.'

She stuttered, berating herself for saying anything at all, especially when his silky little chuckle reverberated up her spine.

' Of course not, Princess. Be assured I hold your honour and good name in as high a regard now as I ever did before.'

Ashe blinked, her mind chasing down the barb hidden in the honeyed sweetness of his words and frowning.

' That is not much of a reassurance as you seem inured to my status altogether.' She snapped.

She could almost hear Balthier's smug and self-aggrandising smirk in his words when he next spoke. How could she let such a man as he affect her in this way? Was she mad?

' Very well Princess, then I will say this. The proof of the pudding is in the eating, and I have been left wanting.'

Balthier's right hand appeared in her line of sight but she had no time between registering the rather cheap and tawdry looking rings on his fingers before that hand snaked up her right thigh and under the hem of her skirt to ever so gently pinch the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.

Ashe could not have jumped harder if he had thrown a bolt of Thundaga straight at her.

It was only his wicked hands that kept her from falling from the Chocobo as she let out a yelp that was less shock or pain than it was release. Her stomach performed acrobatics and her heart went into palpitations.

' Upsy daisy Princess.'

Balthier chirped in gratingly cheerful tones as he righted her on the Chocobo, she could hear him laughing at her behind his smile.

' Your Highness, is everything alright?' Basch called from a little ways behind them.

Gods, but they all must have seen her almost take a tumble. The most regal part of Ashe's psyche went in search of a large rock to hide behind in shame.

' Everything is fine, is it not Princess?' Balthier called out in a voice loud enough for Basch to hear.

Ashe opened her mouth and then froze. The sensible part of her mind told her to jump off this Chocobo right now and insist Basch ride with her, no matter what strange tryst he might be engaging in with Fran.

Fran would just have to ride with Balthier; she at least seemed to have some control over the damned pirate.

Another part of Ashe, which appeared to be in the ascendant, argued that she did not want to ride with Basch. She did not want to be dignified and regal and maintain a constant state of decorum.

It was that part of her mind which was keenly aware that Balthier's left hand had slipped from her hip to creep under her white coat and was stroking over her belly.

'Yes.'

Ashe called out in a slightly peculiar voice. She cleared her throat and forced herself to turn and face her self-appointed protector.

' I am perfectly fine, something pinched me while we were travelling and it startled me that is all.'

Basch frowned at her, from behind him Fran's head rose and Ashe was momentarily distracted by the incongruous sight. It looked as if Fran's head was growing from the top of Basch's.

' Pinched you, your Highness?'

Ashe blinked, realised her mistake and quickly dissembled, ' Pinched me? No I said _bit _me.'

Ashe put as much regal scorn in her tone as she could muster now that Balthier's evil, wicked, fingers were dancing along the waist band of her skirt, testing her boundaries.

Basch did not appear completely satisfied but did not press. Ashe waited until she felt sure that Basch's keen attention was no longer rooted to her before she let go of the reins with one hand to pull Balthier's hand from out of her clothing.

' All I have to do is say and Basch will cut that damned hand of yours off, Pirate.' She hissed.

Balthier laughed, soft and musical and so terribly, terribly intimate.

' Now, now Princess I am doing no more to you than you did to me. Fair is fair.'

Ashe readied an immediate rebuttal and then thought better of it. He was, after all, right; though she had certainly not pinched him, mores the pity.

Balthier seemed to sense her imminent defeat and instead of pressing his advantage and storming her barricades as she might imagine any self-respecting pirate would, he behaved himself like a gentleman and did absolutely nothing for the rest of the journey.

His only concession to the fact that he was a damned lecherous pirate and certainly no true gentleman was the arm he wrapped around her waist and the hand that he kept pressed against her stomach, albeit over her clothing.

Ashe had to fiercely repress the sense of irrational disappointment such behaviour invoked in her for the rest of the journey to towards her rightful kingdom.

It was only as they were dismounting their Chocobo's and about to enter Rabanastre through the East Gates that Balthier, under the guise of courteously helping her down from their mount, whispered in her ear.

' I haven't forgotten your promise, Highness, one greave and one boot, which I may remove myself. A little belly rub is not going to satisfy me.'

Ashe felt her cheeks flame, muscles low in her abdomen clenched, and her traitorous heart flip-flopped in her chest like a landed fish. Nevertheless her pride and her ever-present anger came to her rescue.

'An eye for an eye pirate, you have your fair exchange.' She spat.

Balthier, as smooth and impenetrable as the Mist of the Feywood, simply smirked, tossed his head so the sun caught on his earrings and sauntered off towards Fran.

Ashe bit her bottom lip as she watched him, eyes narrowed, and observed the damned indecent way he had of strutting about the place as if _he_ was monarch.

He had pinched her, the lascivious bastard!

And now, because she had said herself that she would not be taken advantage of by him, she had to contrive someway of pinching him in return.

And _She_was going to aim a little higher than his thigh!


	3. Chapter 3

The Pharos at Ridorana: First Ascent

'Gods damnit!'

Balthier hurried down the accursed steps of the Pharos towards Ashe who was picking herself up from the bottom in disorganised fashion.

'Princess?'

He caught her by the shoulders as he crouched down beside her in an attempt to stop her fussing.

He had just watched her fall head first down the flight of steps after rather over-enthusiastically dodging a fiend thrown ball of Firaga.

' Stupid; so stupid.'

Ashe was frantically trying to put herself to rights; she seemed to have completely failed to notice the bleeding gash over her right eye.

' Ashe!'

Ignoring her shoulders in favour of clasping her face in his hands so he could peer into her eyes and check for signs of concussion, he could just imagine the Good Captain's reaction to the scene.

_Oh, yes Captain, I allowed the last of the Dynast's Kings descendents, your royal charge, to fall down a flight of stairs to her death while I rooted about in a discarded treasure chest for what turned out to be a paltry Knot of Rust._

'Ashe how many fingers am I holding up?'

He waved two fingers in front of her face and watched her eyes focus and track the movement for all of two seconds before she slapped his hand away.

'For the Gods sake Balthier, be serious!'

The Princess pushed him away with surprising strength lurched to her feet cried out in pain and collapsed in a heap half on top of him.

' My ankle.'

Both hands gripped her left ankle through her boot. Balthier, rooting about in his belt pouches, pulled a potion out and pried her fingers from her ankle to push the little bottle into her unresisting palms.

He looked about him for an fiends, rueing Ashe's suspect strategic planning that had led her to separate the seven of them into two pairs and a threesome to 'cover more ground'.

If the Princess had broken her ankle, as Balthier suspected she had, from its position and the way she held her left leg, then he and Ashe would be covering no more ground than the cold stone of this landing for some considerable time.

' Better?' He asked blandly as the Princess shuddered around a final swallow and winced before imperiously shoving the empty potion bottle back into his hands.

' No.'

She sounded just the regal side of sulky and her fingers immediately went back to squeezing her ankle as he threw the empty bottle over his shoulder and listened for the distant tinkle of broken glass as it shattered somewhere far below them.

Balthier felt the smirk play over his lips, but it was more a habitual reflex; watching Ashe go tumbling down the stairs had disturbed him.

Her choice of attire left her little protection after all, and Balthier considered it a crime against Humekind to have that delicious rear end damaged in anyway.

He pulled his handkerchief out from the reaches of his vest and used it to dab at Ashe's forehead.

'What do you think you are doing?' She jolted like a startled colt when the soft cotton and lace trimmed square of cloth brushed her forehead.

'Doctoring, your Highness.'

He muttered distractedly grabbing a firm hold on her shoulders to keep her still and using the water canteen he was carrying to wet the cloth before wiping the blood away. The potion had knitted her skin back together and left a small scab forming.

Satisfied the cosmetic aspect was dealt with Balthier considered how he was going to tackle the serious injury and the serious impediment of the ever-prickly Princess' pride.

As Ashe distracted herself by poking at the healing scab on her forehead and risked breaking it open again, silly girl, Balthier seized his moment.

With deft hands and supreme confidence, for when you are braving the jaws of the Couerl hesitance is equal to death, he curled one hand under her knees and twisted her around bodily so he could wrap the other arm around her waist and hoist her up into his arms, before depositing her on the fifth step of the staircase.

'Balthier!'

Ashe looked as disgruntled and irritated as a She-Couerl disturbed from a nap and glared at him with all the haughty vehemence she could muster, which was considerable.

' Princess.' He glanced up at her from where he knelt at her feet at the bottom of the steps and let his smirk come out full bloom on his lips.

' It looks like I have you exactly where I want you, hmm?' He purred, completely unable, and unwilling, to resist the temptation to tease her lovely, twitchy, majesty.

Ashe's eyebrows shot up and for a moment her look of stunned outrage was enough to almost make him laugh. Then he rested his hand gently, but firmly, on Ashe's injured ankle. He spoke seriously.

' Princess' choice, Ashe, either I can lay hands on your royal personage and heal you or you can take chances on healing yourself.'

Balthier had often mused about the strange vagaries of healing magick that meant that healing spells cast upon ones self were never as effective as those cast by another.

Something to do with a person's life energy Fran had once told him, but as he was the son of a mad scientist and a product of the most technologically advanced nation in Ivalice; Balthier had never cared to listen too well in any case. He distrusted magick as only a man who had spent most of his formative years in a lab could.

As he saw understanding blanch the Princess' face before a livid blush brought her pretty features into full bloom once more, he found himself rather enjoying the happy circumstance of pernicious fate and magick that gave him the chance to get his promised bounty from the Princess.

'Bastard pirate.' She hissed.

Balthier, though not a bastard in the literal sense, though he might wish he was most days, was nevertheless accustomed to the accusation, given his occupation and chosen proclivities and so her words washed off him like the proverbial water off the ducks back.

' Language Princess, what would Basch say to hear you now?'

Ashe glowered, 'He would not say anything for he should be too busy be-heading you for your impertinence!'

'Princess I hardly call offering to aid a lady with curative magicks as impertinence.' He drawled.

Ashe sniffed and pointedly turned her head away, but as she did nothing else Balthier decided to take her silence as assent and moved his attention to her footwear.

Though it could be argued that he had spent more time than was strictly warranted studying the Princess, his attention using gravitated and remained rooted to her derriere and rarely dropped to her feet.

For this reason he took a moment thinking over the buckles of her metal slipper before he could move on to the good parts.

'Having problems, Balthier? The Leading Man appears puzzled.'

Ashe all but crowed, Balthier smirked.

'Merely prolonging the pleasure, Ashe, a feast devoured in haste is rarely enjoyed hereafter.'

He looked up at her quickly and let the fingers of his left hand dance up the shin of her right leg. Ashe shivered and opened her mouth to form a no doubt scathing retort.

Balthier gently unbuckled her boot before she could speak, yet despite his attempts to support her ankle; he caught the quick breath of pain the Princess could not quite repress.

He decided to concentrate on the actual healing and play with the Princess when she was back at full strength. It was more fun that way.

He examined her ankle and could clearly see the break, he internalised a wince of sympathy, it wouldn't do to ruin his reputation with a display of genuine sympathy and he knew Ashe well enough to know she would appreciate that considerably less than his flirtations.

'Tsk, tsk. You should wear footwear with a smaller heel, Ashe, it might be safer.'

Ashe used her good leg to kick him in the shoulder. 'Keep your wardrobe suggestions to yourself, if you please. It is your fault I fell.'

Balthier gripped her ankle in both his hands, her skin smooth and soft as women's skin usually was and concentrated on summoning white magick to his hands.

' My fault, your Highness?' He murmured distractedly.

' That is not my recollection of events, certainly I didn't force you to perform feats of daring acrobatics in front of a descending staircase.'

'Daring acrobatics?' Ashe demanded outraged, 'I was trying to avoid being incinerated!'

' By throwing yourself down a stone staircase? Yes, Princess, I can see how you came to lead the Resistance with a keen tactical sense like that.'

Ashe opened her mouth to hurl some form of abuse at him, but at that moment his magick finally spilled from his hands into her leg.

He stroked his hands up her shin to her knee and back down to her ankle slowly, enjoying the sensation of her skin moving through his palms, feeling the tingle of magick leave him and enter her, as the healing power spread evenly through her skin seeking to knit together broken bone.

Determined to extract as much pleasure as he could from this unexpected opportunity to fondle the Princess (he was a pirate after all) Balthier let his fingers pitter-patter over her calf and shin, titter over the rounded nub of her knee, skirting the fertile territory of that gorgeous thigh, before pivoting back down her leg, trailing magick as they went.

'Oh.' Ashe breathed, her exhalation taking all her tension with her as she let him heal her, her eyes slipping shut.

Balthier's concentration was soon taken up with his task. Though he disliked offensive magicks and the study of magick in general, he did have something of a knack for healing.

Fran said this was because despite his best attempts to feign the contrary, he was a man who would aid those in need and strove to alleviate suffering.

He much preferred his own interpretation that the use of healing magicks allowed him unparalleled opportunity to enjoy illicit pleasures like this one.

He could feel through his palms the hot spot of pain that marked Ashe's broken ankle and equally could feel that heat diminish under the cool, soothing flow of magick.

He caressed and stroked her poor beleaguered metatarsal with exceeding, near reverent, care.

Balthier set his fingers, glowing with a greenish white healing glow, to dance over Ashe's surprisingly small foot.

He gave time to her peculiarly large big toe; shockingly inelegant for a Princess but oddly endearing for the fact, and to tickle one finger over her sensitive instep.

Her little hic-cupped gasp, part indignation, part encouragement, spurred him on to bigger and better things.

The knobbly bone of her ankle was as delicate as a bird's and he stroked his palms over that bone tenderly. The ankle was all but mended, only the smallest flicker of aching pain remained to be extinguished.

Smiling to himself as the thought and impulse came to him he leaned his head down towards her foot, still and resting in the cradle of his hand; he rolled his eyes up to look at the Princess.

' Shall I kiss it better, your Highness?'

Ashe was biting her lip, but it wasn't pain that filled her wide eyes, Balthier stroked his fingers over her foot as she fought a silent battle with herself. He had seen her do it enough times to know the signs.

The tiniest of nods, almost an involuntary gesture, but Balthier did not need a written declaration of assent from her Highness.

He ducked his head and laid a gentle, deliberately chaste, kiss upon her formerly broken ankle.

He felt her wriggle her toes, the digits brushing his cheek, as she sighed with pleasure and Balthier took the opportunity to plant another kiss upon her ankle, before releasing her foot and sitting back from her.

' There now Highness, all better.' He chirped.

Ashe opened her eyes with a start and for a moment seemed quite startled.

' Where did you learn to do that?' Ashe demanded.

Conveniently forgetting such mundane niceties as 'thank you'.

Balthier allowed a little smile to play across his lips as he picked up her boot, shifted to kneel on one knee and patted that raised knee for Ashe to rest her royal foot on so he could do as he had promised and put her boot back on.

' Heal, Princess? I would have thought that was obvious, healing by hand is a fairly rudimentary magick, after all.' Balthier grinned.

' Even Vaan can do it, though I wouldn't recommend the experience.' He added with a grimace.

' No one has ever healed me like that before.'

Ashe said as she got to her feet, took a practice step and, satisfied he had done the job properly, started off back up the stairs.

' Your welcome, Princess.' Balthier decided this was as close to a thank you as he was likely to get and so cherished the sentiment accordingly.

Ashe turned back to him on the stairs and looked for all of a second chastened then she turned her head up, flipped her hair (though she lacked Fran's impressive tresses to give the gesture of dismissal real worth) and strode up the stairs.

' I would thank you Pirate except that I have no doubt you are more satisfied with the result than I could ever be.' She called back to him primly.

She turned when she reached the top of the stairs and he was a few steps below her, her expression a powerful and decidedly alluring, mix of regal distain and almost impish mischief.

' I consider my debt paid now Balthier, I have delivered on our agreement as promised.'

Balthier knew the smile that curved his lips was as challenging, nay, _combative, _as her own.

He dropped into a courtly bow, better he imagined than any courtier of Dalmasca could or would ever muster, but kept his head up so he could meet her eyes.

'Oh, yes, Your Highness, _I_ am quite satisfied with the outcome of our little negotiation, having received everything I asked for.'

He swept up the stairs until he stood just two steps below her bringing them eye level with each other.

' I wonder though, Princess, are you quite so fulfilled? Perhaps you still lack a certain satisfaction, hmm?'

And then, because he could, and because he had not missed the spark of pure, unadulterated lust that darkened her otherwise cold and solemn grey eyes at his words, Balthier leaned in and kissed her icy, mercurial, Highness on the lips.

It was just the briefest of feather light touches, chaste as chaste could be, a brush of lips.

His hands, still holding a slight charge from the healing spell, stroked her cheeks and hair for a second, before pulling back and whispering in her ear.

' I am open to further negotiations Princess, all you need do is name the terms.'

The trap baited Balthier stepped around the suddenly immobile Ashe and continued towards the next flight of stairs and their rendezvous point with the rest of the party, a smile taking up near permanent residence on his lips, which tingled still from that one little stolen kiss.


	4. Chapter 4

The Port of Balfonheim

_A/N: this is a slight departure from the tone of the rest of this story, but play time only lasts so long, after all. _

Ashe did not know what to do.

She lay rigid in her bed in Reddas' Manse, twisting the light sheets in her hands and staring sightlessly up at the ceiling.

It had been exactly a full day and night since the destruction of the Sun Cryst and still whenever she closed her eyes she saw that horrid, bloated, maligned orb, pulsing with Mist.

Turning her head Ashe looked to the Treaty Blade and the Sword of Kings, her props of status, her weapons of inheritance. Her fingers twitched in memory of the scything blow she had struck against the phantom of Rasler before the Cryst, with those same swords.

Intellectually she knew that it had never been her Prince, from the beginning the spirit that had guided her through her quest had ever been a construct of Occuria deceit, designed to enslave her.

Yet the burning in her soul, the acidic twisting of guilt and self-loathing that prevented sleep and construed to make her violently sick with every morsel of food she attempted to consume, was because deep down she knew the truth.

It had not been the Occuria she struck out at when she raised arms against the visage of her dead husband, her beloved Prince. It had been _him_.

Rasler.

She had wanted to eradicate him. Scant months short of three years dead and she was so tired of bleeding in her heart for him. So tired of feeling guilt that she lived and he had died, of the agonising question that plagued her mind.

Had Rasler lived and she had died in his stead, would he have made a better job of fighting the Empire?

Growling with frustration, tears prickling her eyes in a hot dazzle, Ashe threw back the coverlet and launched herself out of bed.

She paced to the window and looked out towards the beach, and suddenly all thoughts of dead Princes fled her mind.

_What in all the __g__ods names was he doing out there?_

Without really thinking it through Ashe grabbed up her dressing gown and slipped into her silver gilt slippers before hurrying out of her room and away from the Manse towards the shoreline.

The breeze coming in with the tide was shockingly bracing and Ashe's teeth set to chattering as she carefully picked her way over the slippery, seaweed strewn black rocks towards him.

Framed by the huge and expectant full moon he had his back to her and did not appear aware of her presence. He stood on the very edge of the natural pier of jagged rocks that forked out into the Naldoa Ocean.

'Balthier?'

Her call was swallowed instantly by the sonorous rush of the waves breaking against the rocks, the wind sweeping across the surf, and he did not even twitch.

His white shirt, untucked, flapped about his lean torso and she noticed, irrelevantly, that he was bare foot.

More troubling to her, and the more pertinent observation a snide voice in her head pointed out, was the rifle he held braced against one shoulder, the business end of which was dangerously tilted towards his right temple.

The damned Pirate had been as a ghost these last twenty-four hours since their escape from the Pharos; most of that time he had spent caring for Fran, who had nearly died due to the massive amount of Mist surrounding the Cryst.

He hadn't let any of the rest of them near Fran until she regained consciousness; Ashe had caught the tail end of an altercation between Balthier and Basch when he tried to see Fran that had actually made her fear for her Knight's safety.

As soon as Fran was up and talking Balthier had vanished from the Manse, to be found neither in the aerodrome or the Whitecap; now here he was facing out to sea as still as one petrified by magick.

'Balthier!' She was only feet from him now and she pitched her voice to be heard over the crash of the ocean. She was unprepared for his response.

In less time than it took to blink an eye Ashe found herself staring down the barrel of his rifle, and up into a pair of brown eyes which were neither sardonic nor arrogant. Instead they were bloodshot and glazed.

'Bloody hell!'

Balthier almost over balanced himself and teetered on the edge of falling off the rocks, as he jerked his arm back so fast, upon recognising her, that his rifle nearly flew into the sea.

Ashe, though her heart was fighting to climb free of her throat, he had been a scarce second from pulling down on the trigger after all, found her voice was calm, the epitome of sardonic disinterest.

The regal part of her was pleased for this fact as she would not be much of a queen if she could not stare calmly down the barrel of a crazed pirate's gun.

'A tad distracted tonight, aren't we, Pirate?'

If he recognised his own words to her from weeks earlier in Jahara he gave no sign of it, she fancied he was still ruffled from how close he had come to shooting her dead; which was gratifying at least.

What was the fool pirate doing out here at this time of night?

'Ashe what are you doing out here?'

_He_ demanded his voice sounding odd, as he pressed the heel of the hand not clutching his rifle against his forehead and tried to smooth his hair off his brow.

Even traipsing about sundry sewers, caves, ancient underground palaces, and prisons she had never seen him look so dishevelled, Ashe found herself feeling just vaguely alarmed.

'Balthier are you drunk?' She accused him as she watched him keenly.

He met her eyes with brown gaze that was so far from cynical it left nihilism for dust and squinted down on her.

'I rather think I am at that, Princess, unless you happen to have an identical sister with a tendency to waver in and out of focus.'

He made a vague gesture to the thin air beside her right shoulder and squeezed his eyes closed. Ashe felt a surge of pure anger, tainted with some deeper emotion, closer to fear, rise up in her.

' You – you stupid, irresponsible..._pirate!' _She yelled at him.

Ashe made a grab for the tail of his shirt and hauled him forward away from the rocks edge, causing him to stagger, reaching out a hand to steady himself against her shoulder. Ashe slapped him, with considerable force, around the face.

'How can you do this to me now!'

Balthier had raised a hand to his reddened cheek and was staring at her as if she was the one who had taken leave of her senses.

Really the conceit of the man staggered her.

'I beg your pardon?'

The tone of Balthier's voice made it clear that, despite his words, he was most emphatically not apologising. She had never heard such a clipped, unfriendly tone from him, at least not directed towards herself.

Ashe glared at him, almost quaking with fury. She jabbed a finger into his chest, which was much easier to do with the heavy velvet and leather vest he usually wore absent from his current attire.

' _You_ are not supposed to do this.'

Ashe almost screamed, aware that she was verging on incoherent, behaving in a profoundly un-regal manner and possibly making a magnificent fool of herself, but for once she did not care.

' You are not allowed to fall apart, Balthier, I forbid it.' She swallowed back her angry tears and hissed through her clenched teeth in an icy rush.

Since the war Ashe had found that she had few absolutes that she could depend on, sooner or later everyone she trusted failed or betrayed her.

Despite this she had come to believe in him; this astute, erudite, self-aggrandising pirate who was completely imperturbable come hell or high water and as free from pain as a bird in the sky.

She was not going to let him fail her now.

' What is wrong with you, Ashe?' Balthier had snatched up her hand as she poked at him and was holding it between them, frowning at her blearily.

Ashe did not try and wrest her hand free of his grip, which was warm and firm despite his decidedly unsteady stance.

' Me! There is nothing wrong with me.' Ashe almost choked on her incensed incredulity.

'I am talking about you, Balthier. Look at yourself, you are a disgrace!'

Balthier flinched at her words, letting go of her wrist and looking down on his barely fastened, untucked shirt, his bare feet, and sand splattered trousers.

'Ashe..' He began on a long, defeated sigh.

' No!' She snapped not wanting to hear him betray them both with excuses; she longed to hear arrogance in his voice not apology. A leading man did not apologise, gods damn it, anymore than a queen.

' You have done everything in your power to have me believe in you, despite my better judgement. You have cajoled, teased, and insinuated your way into my trust, Pirate. Forced me to depend on you and now you would do this? How dare you betray to me this way!'

Balthier was left blinking dumbly in the aftermath of her tirade for a handful of seconds, his silver tongue drowned in drink it seemed.

'I have never betrayed you Ashe.' When he did respond it was deadly serious.

' Then what were you doing out here? This is hardly behaviour conducive with the role of a _leading man_.' She spat back, waving her hands sharply to indicate his sorry state and the suspect location she had found him in.

Why had he been staring out towards the depths and the distant Pharos, why was he carrying his gun when no fiends ventured onto the beach?

Her eyes beseeched him to smirk at her, to give her some beautifully eloquent throw-away excuse.

Balthier turned his head to stare out at the choppy waters, ' Yesterday I killed my Father and watched my best fri ...watched_ Fran..._ fight for her life, forgive me, _your Highness_, if I am a little out of sorts.'

Ashe remained silent against his cold, humourless rebuff, for a moment. It felt to her as if something intangible and yet vital and strong was dying between them out here surrounded by the cold and eternal ocean.

Ashe was sick and tired of watching things die, of grieving for things lost that she had barely obtained to begin with. She'd be damned if she was to do it again.

'Yesterday I killed my husband's ghost, and saw a good man die to destroy that which I could not, but I must always stay strong for Dalmasca.' She whispered back defiantly.

She looked down at her feet even as she felt Balthier's attention snap back to her, the weight of his gaze heavy on the top of her head.

' In the Pharos you spoke of terms, Balthier.'

She began, intently studying the lichen covered rock, her own dainty slippers and Balthier's bare feet, until she thought this visual recollection would be indelibly tattooed into her memory ever more.

' You left the setting of those terms in my hands. Well, I have a proposal for any future - _engagement – _between us, Pirate.'

She looked up at him, her eyes hot but dry, heart hammering, but for once her mind was settled, no dissenting voices arguing and questioning her every decision. Both the woman and the queen-in-waiting were in agreement.

She needed this Pirate and it didn't matter if it wasn't proper, if it was against her status and her rank.

So much had been stripped from her that what she had, even if she was not sure how to define or condone it within her own mind, she would nevertheless fight for.

' Indeed Princess?' Balthier drawled and either he was abashed by her rebuke or the cold sea breeze had sobered him somewhat, for his words did not slur.

' I am surprised you would want any further _engagement _with one such as myself, as I have clearly disappointed your expectations thus far.'

The dry irritation in his tone heartened her; she saw the affronted dignity in his eyes and was glad of it.

' I am willing to overlook your current state, as you have been under some strain, but in future I insist that if you are so keen to play a part, Balthier, that you maintain that part while in my company, always.'

Her words were crisp and at odds with her actions as she barrelled into his arms and pressed her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and greedily sucked in the scents of mechanical oils, gun-powder and linen soap that clung to him.

After a moment, in which time Balthier shifted his weight awkwardly to accommodate her body leaning into him, he put his own arms around her, rubbing his hands up her back and bringing some warmth back to her.

'Hmm, so the Princess would lay claim to the leading man, would she?'

The flirtatious lilt to his words heralded the restoration of the beautifully constructed pretence of the leading man.

He chuckled, 'Very well, Ashe, I accept your terms, from this moment hence you shall never see so much as a hint of genuine pain or distress in my countenance.'

' Good. If you would be morose, Pirate, do it on your own time, not mine.'

Ashe muttered, brushing her cheek against the open neck of his shirt, so that she could feel his skin, she buried her hands under the loose cloth and splayed her fingers up his sides, enjoying the sensation of his ribs expanding and retracting as he breathed.

They were silent for a time, Ashe feeling content that while she may have no husband, no father, no family at all, save an uncle who was nuisance more than anything else, and currently no throne to call her own, she at least had one pirate she could depend on.

speaking of which...

'Princess?' Balthier murmured, his lips gently pressing a kiss to the top of her head while his hands, those wicked hands, busied themselves roving over her night gown swathed body.

' Yes?'

She was barely listening as her hands found what felt like old scar tissue, thin lines which may have come from a whip, striping his shoulder blades, she wondered what fabulous fabrication he would come up with should she ask him how he came by the marks.

' Forgive my curiosity Princess, but why do you wear more clothes to bed than you wear during the day?'

Ashe wrenched away from him and glared up into his face too startled to be outraged, though the anger was barely a step behind.

'What did you say?'

The damnable pirate was smirking at her, dark eyes all but swimming with wicked humour at her expense. He gestured languidly to her white raw silk night robe, sash drawn closed around her full-sleeved, ankle length satin nightgown.

' Your sleep attire is an interesting contrast to your day wardrobe, Ashe, I was just wondering why that might be?' He quirked an eyebrow at her in infuriating fashion.

' Surely the pretence of maidenly virtue is somewhat redundant, hmm?'

Ashe felt her cheeks flame; her tongue failed her and her mind lit up with indignant anger, even as a tiny, paradoxical, part of her rejoiced.

Ashe reacted in her own self defence in the only way left open to her.

Using Balthier's lingering drunkenness to her advantage, she gave him a straight armed shove to the stomach and sent him falling backwards into the icy sea waters.

She sprinted over the rocks and back to the beach as Balthier surfaced, sputtering and choking on sea water, and hauled himself back up onto the rocks.

Ashe ran all the way back to the Manse, giggling like a maiden. Vaguely she thought she heard Balthier calling after her, the sea breeze carrying his indignation to her easily like a blessing.

She was fairly certain, on balance that, in this encounter the win went to her. She would have the upper hand in future negotiations for a change.

She had seen the pirate with his dignity undone. That was worth far more than the odd pinch and stolen kiss, surely?

She slipped back into her own room and bed and pulled the coverlet up to her chin, idly she wondered how long it would take the sodden, drunken pirate to pick the lock of her bedroom door, especially as she had neglected to remove the key from the lock?

Tomorrow, or the next day, they could all die. She knew this well.

But right now she was content to have found these few tiny, transient, moments where she could pretend that she was just herself, just Ashe, with her very own sky pirate to play with.


	5. Chapter 5

Balfonheim – the Manse of the late sky pirate Reddas

_A/N warning imminent sauciness and scenes of an adult nature in this chapter! ;)_

Balthier did not know what was worse, his imminent death from encroaching hypothermia or the sickening fact that his unintended dip in the ocean had bought on the beginnings of the queen of all hang-over's.

His teeth were chattering so hard his jaw was going into spasm, his fine shirt was ruined and clung icily to his upper body, his rifle, which he had pointlessly managed to keep hold of, even as he crashed backwards into the ocean, was likely irreparably damaged.

Ashe did not know it yet but come morning she would be purchasing for him a new gun, a new shirt, and perhaps new trousers as well. The shrinkage the salt water would inflict on his already snug leather trousers didn't bare thinking about.

Hauling himself up the wide, gently curving staircase, towards the sleeping quarters of the Manse Balthier looped the gun's strap around the top balustrade of the staircase and tottered, drippingly, towards the direction of the room he and Fran were sharing.

He was thinking of no more than a decade's sleep and a mountain of warm bedding when his hand briefly rested on the door handle and an errant murmur of sound rose to his ears from behind the door.

A voice; a male voice.

_Bugger all. _

So Fran had company did she? His mood growing increasingly dark and sodden Balthier might have simply entered the room regardless.

He and Fran had moved so far beyond the point where anything one did would embarrass the other that she would not care, and the amusement of seeing the usually sanguine Captain caught in the act would cheer him quite considerably.

However then they would most likely ask him where he had been all day and why he was dripping a small river of seawater all over the fine carpeting, and his amusement at the prospect of his impromptu entrance quickly waned.

Which room was the Princess in?

Balthier stumbled back down the corridor, his limbs twitching with icy chill and beginning to lose feeling as he pressed his ear to the nearest door. The uproarious snoring he could clearly hear told him this was the orphans' room.

He had never known a female who could snore like Penelo, he had oft wondered on their travails how Vaan could sleep so peacefully through it. He had known herds of Behemoths make less noise.

Never mind, by process of elimination this room Balthier now found himself before must be the Princess' abode. Squatting down he looked through the keyhole and sure enough, the wicked Princess had locked the door and left the key in place.

Balthier felt himself smirk, even though his lips were turning blue and his face was numb. If her high-strung and peculiar majesty thought this would keep him out, she was very much mistaken.

The art of Magick was a sympathetic art, Fran had told him, if one wished to summon lightening to hand one must become as lightening in one's mind.

Balthier had always thought this was somewhat ridiculous. He was a man, not a meteorological condition.

Right now, calling forth a carefully focused and localised Blizzaga spell to freeze the lock mechanism on the door until one good jerk of his hand on the door handle snapped it was simplicity itself. He had all but frozen over as it was.

The Princess sat up in bed in a rush, demurely dragging the coverlet up with her and holding it clutched protectively to her throat. Balthier almost laughed at the disingenuous show of modesty and outrage she contrived to wear upon her face.

'Princess.' He greeted her, shutting the door behind him and stepping into the room.

He immediately made towards the en-suite facilities, the Princess having declared the only guest room in the Manse with its own facilities as her right as monarchy.

He had to all but peel himself out of his soaked shirt and left the sodden linen to puddle on the hardwood floor as, ignoring the Princess' indignant huff at his lack of manners, he walked into the bathroom in search of towels.

'No one invited you in here Pirate.'

Ashe had followed him to the doorway of the bathroom and stood, arms folded across her chest, her long nightgown soft and glowing in the moonlight filtering in through the window, watching him keenly.

Balthier snorted, 'Little choice in the matter, as your faithful Knight has decided to usurp my bed and co-opt the company of my partner for the night, it seems.'

Ashe's eyes widened at that, and then a strange smile twitched the edge of her lips. For a moment she seemed to hold it at bay but then a shockingly girlish giggle escaped her.

'Balthier please, that was information I did not wish to have.'

Balthier felt a grin play across his lips, 'You think that is bad, Princess, then you should truly pity me. Fran enjoys relaying to me the sordid acts of her many conquests in great detail. I shall never hear the end of it come the morn.'

He winked at Ashe as he pulled free a large white towel before throwing it over his head to start drying his hair.

He felt Ashe step into the bathroom towards him, 'I do not believe you. Fran is the embodiment of tact, discretion and propriety.'

Ashe pulled the towel from his head and settled it, almost tenderly, about his shoulders, but continued to hold on to the corners of the towel, her forearms resting against his chest, Balthier smirked down on her.

'Ah, Princess that is just the act she likes to affect for the gullible. That demure, mysterious air she portrays is a total fallacy. The truth is Fran is the most rampant hedonist one is ever likely to meet.'

Ashe poked him hard in the gut, even as her lips twisted in an uncharacteristically carefree smile. 'You are a damned liar, Balthier.'

He chuckled, 'As you say Princess.'

He turned away to turn on the water to fill the bathtub. You could say what you liked against old man Reddas, ex-Judge, destroyer of Nabudis, pawn of Dr Cid, but the man had understood life's more refined necessities, for instance, this bathtub.

Roughly six feet long the sunken bathtub resembled a small pool more than any bathing apparatus he had ever seen. No wonder the Princess had been prepared to fight off all comers for this room.

Balthier put his hands under the flow of warm water and moaned as the soothing heat permeated his chilled flesh. It was so good it was almost painful.

'You are planning to bathe, now, at this hour?'

Ashe sounded incredulous, and a tad put out. He turned to look at her as he crouched down by the bathtub.

'Indeed Princess, unless you have a suggestion for another way I might warm myself?' He purred.

Ashe said nothing and Balthier somewhat expected that she would leave him to bathe in peace.

She liked to play this game of bluff and double bluff they had devised but he rather thought that a game it would stay.

Perhaps it was the lingering fog of drunkenness, the dullness of his senses since the Pharos that left him feeling as if the world was moving at a pace he could no longer keep up with, but for whatever reason when the soft, slippery satin night dress pooled on the cream tiled floor by his feet Balthier at first had no idea what it was.

'Very well, I think I shall join you then.'

Balthier found himself looking up at the Princess of Dalmasca, framed by silver moonlight, as she daintily tested the bath water with one extended toe.

Balthier knew he was seeing her in a way scant few of her kinsmen had ever, or would ever, see her; as bare as nature intended. He also knew this would be a sight that would be forever seared into his memory.

'By all means, your Highness, be my guest.'

Still kneeling by the bath he bowed, ironically, as she stepped down into the tub before him.

Ashe settled herself with regal slowness and began examining the collection of bathing oils aligning the wall of the bathing cubicle critically, before selecting a bottle to her liking and working a natural sponge into lather after anointing it first with oil.

'Are you intending to simple sit there and watch, Balthier?' She demanded irritably.

Balthier felt his smile twitch his lips, 'Honestly Ashe, I hadn't decided.'

He reached out to trawl his fingers lightly down her forearm, making her shiver. 'I am a man with a keen eye for beauty, Highness; I would not want to do anything to mar this rare and exquisite sight.'

'You will find me quite unmoved by base flattery pirate.' Ashe sniffed, though he saw the happy flush colour her cheeks.

'Glad to hear it your Majesty.' He breathed as he leaned in to press a light kiss to her shoulder.

'Dalmasca deserves better than a regent whose will can be so easily swayed by any passing rogue with a skilled tongue.'

To illustrate the point, he chased an errant droplet of water down her arm with his lips, pulling her arm from the bath to scatter butterfly kisses from elbow to wrist and tasting citrus and Galbana oils on her skin.

'Yes.' Ashe breathed the fingers of that hand curling to latch around the back of his neck. 'That would be very bad for Dalmasca.' She tugged his head forward seeking a simple kiss.

Balthier had other objectives in mind however, 'Oh, yes, almost as bad, one might say, as a Princess with a predilection for the company of pirates.'

Balthier let the fingers of his right hand pitter patter across her collar bone as his lips dodged her mouth and settled to tickle the silky skin and fine hair just below her left ear, tracing the line of her arching neck with his tongue and, gently, his teeth.

With deliberate slowness he walked his fingers down from her delicate collarbone, he sought greater bounty than a mere kiss, he had already wrested such as that from the Dalmascan saviour, and the pirate's hunger buried in his soul set his fingers to exploring smooth mounding flesh, seeking that particular rosy nub of flesh that stood to attention already.

Ashe flinched and gasped as his questing fingers found their mark, at least one of them, and the Princess rose up with an impatient moan, like an ancient leviathan, to bodily haul him into the bathtub with her.

'Princess, you are like to ruin my trousers.'

He rebuked her as he gathered his limbs and came up for air, Ashe having all but drowned him, pushing him down into the water. Really, this was perhaps the deepest bathtub he had ever had the pleasure of experiencing.

'I shall expect recompense if they are too tight to wear come the morning.'

He warned, though his attention was scattering as Ashe concentrated on removing his beleaguered trousers from both his body and the water and he decided to aid her in this endeavour.

'Balthier you do not know the meaning of the term 'too tight to wear'.'

Ashe told him bluntly as she threw the unwanted item of clothing to the bathroom floor, there was little he could do but laugh at that.

Sitting up in the bathwater that lapped pleasantly at his waist, the warm, heady scent of orange essence and Galbana filling his senses, he pressed a hand to his chest in mock hurt.

'Ashe you wound me. I would never speak so disdainfully of your choice of attire.'

Ashe wound her arms around his neck and glared at him exasperated, she almost growled her next words to him.

'For the love of all the gods Balthier, just shut up and kiss me.'

And for once, just this once, Balthier decided to acquiesce to his Queen's command and did just that.


	6. Chapter 6

The Royal Palace of Rabanastre

_Well, it was somewhat unexpected, but I seem to have stumbled upon a plot. I wonder where it will lead?_

Two years and nineteen days.

That was how long it had been since Ashe had laid eyes on the pirate. As her fingers nervously played with the wedding band in her palm, slipping it half way onto her finger and then shaking it off only to repeat the process all over again, Ashe considered various contradictions.

The first of which was that she sat alone in her private chambers, a mountain of official state mandates awaiting her perusal and seal of approval, yet she had read not a word of any of them, instead her eyes roved over and over again across the worn scrap of paper with the scant few, faded lines in monstrously bad penmanship she knew off by heart.

The second contradiction was the ring. The band of unadorned silver that she tapped against the desk edge again and again, which had once belonged to her husband, her sweet, noble prince, but now held a far more potent association in Ashe's mind.

The third contradiction was the still remembered sense of violation and anguish she had felt when forced to part with this self same ring over two and half years ago to the pirate, an anguish dwarfed into insignificance by the pain, the sense of betrayal, she had felt when that ring was returned to her with nary a scratch.

The greatest contradiction was her self. Two years and nineteen days without so much as word to her either in secret letter or passed on by mutual acquaintance, and still her feelings for the pirate, whose name she refused to use even in the privacy of her own thoughts, roiled inside her as fiercely as they had upon discovering that she had not, in fact, been the catalyst for the death of yet another lover.

Ashe supposed she had always had trouble letting go. She could be overly serious, with a tendency to read too much into the most innocuous of circumstances, perhaps the best revenge she could inflict on him would be to give him and his fickle heart no further thought. Banish him to some dusty corner of forgotten memory forever.

Scraping her velvet cushioned chair back she stomped over to her window, alone in her bedchamber she did not have to maintain appearances and could be as contrary and irritable as she wished.

Her eyes rooted to the shadowed hulk of Bahamut in the dusk, standing in precarious readiness in the desert like a sentinel guarding Rabanastre, a permanent testament to all that had been lost and all that had been gained since the war.

_A queen may seek to escape her charge with the aid of a sky pirate eager to raise his bounty a peg._

She heard Basch's insightful, wry comment in her memory, all that time ago within Bahamut's corridors as they rushed to meet Vayne Solidor and their individual destinies.

_I doubt our queen will need the help of any sky pirate. _

She remembered how sharply she had turned to him then, hearing not the words he said, which were as urbane and emptily witty as ever, but instead hearing in his tone how little the bond between them meant to him that he could think that she had so little further need of him.

_You think me as strong as that? _

Had been her inarticulate question to him in response and he had never answered her. Afterward, when she thought him dead, a heroic martyr for Dalmasca, she had interpreted his words differently and found in them a less callous meaning.

Then his one simply statement had been a goodbye and an I love you, a recognition that they must part ways, and a confirmation made for her ears only that she was more to him than another fabulous conquest with which to inflate his legend.

Now she knew he had been running around happily alive all this time she found herself unable to let him go because of those questions. In the past it had been different, she had known herself loved by both her husband and her father, the grief that still lingered with their memories had at least offered that respite.

With him this was not the case. The balance of the evidence too evenly distributed for and against for any verdict to be reached that would allow her to make her peace with his memory and accept her brief _affair _with the pirate for what it was.

She needed to know that he _had_ loved her, even if only briefly. She understood that he had deliberately made his heart shallow and revelled in his own selfishness to mask his pain. She knew that it might well have never occurred to him that she had mourned him and had longed to hear word he still drew breath those long months after Bahamut.

She could accept that hurt he had caused her if it was motivated by thoughtlessness, it was the suspicion that he had deliberately stayed away from Dalmasca ever more, knowing how she felt, that fostered in her such anger.

That the Strahl had never been seen in Dalmascan air space, that he had never set foot in Rabanastre since Bahamut's fall meant that she had come to accept that her questions would go unanswered.

But not today, today those answers were in reach.

Listlessly pacing back to her desk Ashe rooted amongst the mounds of papers until she found the particular piece of parchment she sought. It looked like any ordinary Licence certificate for an Ultima Blade, and in fact the greedy and lazy individual who had paid for the counterfeit Licence for the weapon he was not fit to wield, had certainly hoped the weapon seller in Rabanastre's Bazaar would think so too.

Ashe smiled wryly as she looked at the tiny error in the small print on the Licence that had given the game away.

The forger had excellent skill, without question, it was just bad luck that he was a little behind the times when it came to the official crest of Dalmasca, which she had had altered to include an image of the Bahamut which she had decided to incorporate as a symbol of her people's victory against oppression.

Not having the courage to set foot in Rabanastre in all this time, it was understandable he had not known of this design change.

The irony that it was the Bahamut, in a manner of speaking, that had proved his undoing, pleased Ashe immensely.

Forging Licence certificates was a crime; depending on the official document forged it could carry a far harsher punishment than mere theft or burglary in her country.

The hapless fool who had bought the Licence was all too happy to co-operate with her watchmen and it did not take long, the arrogant pirate probably assuming he had no need to fear Dalmasca's authorities, to track down the culprit.

He had, by all accounts, surrendered himself into her guardsmen's custody quite peaceably, once assured that his ship and his partner were to remain free. Ashe had no bone to pick with Fran, after all.

Ashe had had him deposited in Nalbina, under twenty four hour guard (she was not about to have him disappear on her again) until she was ready to face him.

That had been two days ago, and still she had not made the trip up to the restored fortress. Oh, she had reasons for her prevarication, everything from sheer spiteful pettiness to genuine matters of state that needed attending too.

The truth was she was afraid to meet him face to face again. A Queen should not murder a prisoner in her custody, certainly not with her own bare hands and not without at least some form of trial. This was simply a matter of etiquette.

Until Ashe felt herself able to obey those laws of polite behaviour she did not feel able to interrogate the prisoner.

Giving up on the pretence that she would do any work this night, Ashe threw herself into her (appropriately enough) queen sized bed and tried to force her racing mind to sleep. That the smooth, melodious echo of his voice tickled the edges of her sleeping mind did not help Ashe gain any rest whatsoever that night.

Therefore when morning came and she called her attendant to have him prepare her passage to Nalbina post haste she was quite prepared, nay eager, to begin a lengthy interrogation of her very special 'prisoner'.

The guards responsible for making sure the man who escaped the falling Bahamut did not escape Nalbina (for a second time) escorted her to the small tower room they had put him in (Ashe was not quite so angry she would have him locked up in a dungeon, at least not yet).

_Damn the man, that he should look so good after all this time. _

Ashe fumed as the door to his holding room was flung open and she swept in with all her regal dignity to find him, the study of suave nonchalance, reclining against the narrow bunk, idly peeling the skin back from an orange as if he chose to be locked up here.

'Your Highness, what an unmitigated pleasure it is to see you once again.'

With the mocking grace of a bandercouerl he rolled to his feet and dropped into a beautifully theatrical bow, dropping to land indolently penitent to his knees before her, head dutifully bowed.

Ashe called upon all her considerable resolve not to spit on the top of his perfectly coiffed bowed head, she turned to her guards.

'Leave us.'

'Your Majesty?' The guard sounded both perplexed and uncomprehending, Queen's were never to be left alone with criminals, Ashe knew, but she would not have an audience for this conversation.

'I will be fine, please wait at the bottom of the stairs and I will summon you when I have finished with him.'

If there was but one good thing to have come from the years she spent exiled from her throne it was the reputation as a warrior queen she had rightly or wrongly she did not know, garnered about her. Her guards left.

'The Queen has spoken, and so it shall be.' She heard him murmur sardonically, though he kept his head down and eyes averted.

'Do not mock me pirate, I have yet to strike public floggings from the official mandate of acceptable punishment, I would not provoke me now.' She snapped fiercely. Turning awkwardly and going towards the small window looking out at the Highwaste.

Though she had granted him no such permission she heard the rustle of clothing indicating he had risen from his bow and moved again to the bunk.

'By all means, Your Majesty, do as you will, I dare say I have suffered worse.'

Ashe whirled about, the train of her skirt bunching behind her as she did so, she was disgusted by the cold, almost sneering contempt thinly veiled in his tone.

For the first time in two years and twenty days she looked into his face and met his eyes and she saw something she wasn't expecting to see. She saw a stranger.

'Balthier?'

It was weakness she knew, to whisper his name so he was far too perceptive, far too damnably clever, to fail to understand where the quaver in her voice came from. But oh, it hurt; it hurt terribly to have truth absolute that he really had never cared. That it had all been a game to him.

Those sardonic eyes watched her coolly for a moment and then he quirked one eyebrow quizzically, 'Yes, Your Highness?'

Ashe swallowed hard and forced herself not to be a woman of twenty-one who had loved but two men and lost them both, without ever having anything to show for giving away a piece of her soul, and instead spoke as a monarch, a Dynast Queen.

' I came today to allow you the courtesy of informing you in person that your trial is set for one month today, if you have not the means to employ your own representative one will be appointed for you by the state of Dalmasca.'

Ashe turned towards the door, shocked at her own words; she had honestly intended to let him go as soon as she had the truth from him, now she found herself unwilling to do so. Would she really put him on public trial? If all his crimes came to light, as they must do in any trial, he could face the gallows, was she really so petty?

No, let him just believe it for a time, her heart demanded some recompense for its wasted pain.

'On what charges?'

His dry inquiry stopped her, hand upon the door to his cell. She did not turn to look on him.

'Excuse me?'

She felt him turn his head to look on her as he sat, knees up upon the bedspread and hands braced against his knees.

' I thank your Majesty for her courtesy in coming in person to inform me I face trial, perhaps you would also be so kind as to inform me in what way, exactly, I have trespassed against your royal Highness?'

Ashe knew his words were double edged, he could always read her so easily, and manipulate her with equal ease. Silently she walked towards him and presented him with the transcript of his official crime.

He took the paper from her and for the first time Ashe realised he wore large black gloves on his hands, his tawdry rings pushed over the gloves fingers on his right hand. Ashe frowned; it seemed an odd fashion statement. Why wear gloves indoors?

Balthier's derisive snort drew her attention back to him, 'A somewhat flimsy justification for stealing a man's liberty, Your Highness, there is no evidence linking me to the creation of this alleged forgery.'

'There is the witness testimony of the man who commissioned you to create the forgery, and my watchmen have found other Licences with a similar error of design that have gone unnoticed by weapons sellers and purveyors of magickal wares throughout Nalbina, the Westersand and the Highwaste, identical in design to this Licence.'

Ashe held up the counterfeit Licence, the crown prosecutions main piece of evidence in their case against the notorious sky pirate Balthier, which she had had every intention of giving back to the arrogant, careless, pirate when she set him free. Now she held onto it in a death grip.

Balthier was studying her intently, 'So this is how you wish to play it, hmm?' He shrugged his shoulders unconcerned at the mounting case against him.

'The crown you so prettily wear upon your head, has changed you, I see. I thought it would.'

Ashe had no idea what he meant by that, or how to interpret the strangely serious, subdued tone of his voice as he rose to his feet, stepping around her as if she was of no more consequence than a piece of furniture, and taking his own turn to stare moodily out of the window.

'You have committed a crime in my country, perhaps several crimes; did you expect me to simply let you be; to allow you immunity to commit any crime against the laws of my country that you see fit, Balthier?'

Balthier turned back to her with an empty smirk upon his face, his eyes cynical. ' I never expected anything from you Your Highness, that you did not freely give, and as to the matter of any _crimes_ I may or may not have committed on Dalmascan soil, well I believe that is for a jury of my peers to decide, is it not?'

He turned his head back to look abstractedly out of the window and Ashe was almost glad to be so summarily dismissed from his regard. Suddenly her once bedrock certainty in her own righteous anger against him was called into question.

_I never expected anything from you that you did not freely give. _

His words chilled her furious ardour and left her close to tears, but she was a Queen and Queen could not be wrong. He had committed a crime against Dalmasca. She was certain of this; a serious crime.

Forged Licences did not only lead to potential danger to life as people not properly able or trained to wield magicks or weaponry found themselves suddenly able to purchase any magick or weapon they had Gil for, but forged certificates also undermined her countries still recovering economy, she could not simply let this go. She would be failing Dalmasca to do so.

Ashe had already begun to open the door to his cell room when his words stopped her.

'Ashe, are these really the terms you wish to play this round by?'

She turned back to him, closing and leaning upon the door, yet he had not turned from the window.

'Terms?' She demanded.

She saw his smirk in the reflection of his face in the glass, dusk already beginning to fall upon Nalbina.

'The stakes are somewhat higher than before, at least for me, but I suppose that is only fair.' He winked at her, fully aware she was staring fixedly at his reflection in the glass of the windowpane.

'This has always been a high stakes game between us, hasn't it, _Princess_?'

Ashe felt a thrill of some strong emotion, part anger, part shock, part excitement? She remembered so well the game of innuendo and salacious tit for tat they had engaged in from Giruvegan to Bahamut, during a time when she was free.

'This is no game Balthier.' She told him woodenly, her heart cracking.

He laughed still with his back to her, 'Oh, yes it is Highness. Sooner or later everything is a game.'

Ashe stared at his back, rigidly leaning against the door of the bricks and mortar cage she had created for him, heart pounding.

'Why did you leave?' Ashe whispered, barely audible but she knew he heard her.

Finally he deigned to look on her, turning his head to glance over his shoulder at her.

'Leave?' He asked contriving to sound genuinely puzzled.

'After Bahamut, I thought you dead, Balthier. I thought...I thought I had lost someone else I...'

She didn't see him move, he was just suddenly in front of her, his leather sheathed finger suddenly stopped her lips.

'Walls have ears, your Highness, two years on the throne and you haven't learnt that lesson?' He breathed in her ear.

There was barely a sliver of thin air between their two bodies as Ashe looked up at his face, at the keen intelligence in his jaded eyes.

She jerked away from his, feeling the heat of his gloved finger like a brand against her lips, heart thundering at close she had come to a terrible, dangerous admission, and it was _he _who had saved her from it.

She watched him walk towards the door and knew he was listening for anyone who might be eavesdropping beyond. After a moment, seemingly satisfied he turned back to her and spoke in soft voice.

' You've started a new game now, Ashe, higher stakes and all that, and I rather doubt this is one that can be ended all that easily, too many people know I'm here I should imagine and you have a reputation to uphold.'

Balthier's blandly amused tones reminded her of his blithe disregard for his imminent demise on Bahamut, that same deliberate lightness of tone.

'Balthier?'

Ashe could feel her chest growing tight as she realised the tremendous mess she had made through a selfish desire to have her cake and eat it, to reclaim something precious that she had found when she had lost all else and subsequently lost when all else was restored to her.

She had once feared that her love was a death sentence to all unfortunate enough to fall sway to it, now for Balthier, it very well might be.

He stepped up to her quickly and she saw that familiar, infuriating smirk was back in place, as was a more heartening warmth to his eyes that she remembered waking up too one glorious morning in Balfonheim days before Bahamut's fall.

'This is a fine mess you've put us in Ashe, you had better come up with a strategy for the win because I fear my hand is somewhat weak in this game.'

He rested his hands, those oddly gloved hands, upon her shoulders and Ashe relished the sensation even as she felt her mind churning.

'Had you been a little less careless in your forgery, pirate, none of this would have happened.' She snapped.

He actually had the audacity to laugh as he left her and went back to his perch on his bunk. 'Maybe Highness, but I am a man who has always put my faith in the kindness of monarchs.'

Ashe stifled a snort of dark laughter as she turned towards the door opened it and turned briefly back to him. She still needed her answer, for all that it didn't really matter.

'Balthier, did you..? _Do _you..?' She let the words she could not say remain silent, expressed only in her gaze locked to his.

The tiniest of smiles played upon his lips and he (rather theatrically) pressed one hand to his heart over his black and silver threaded vest.

'Yes; never really stopped truth be told.'

Ashe smiled, even as her stomach twisted with impossibility of their circumstances. She could just manage a whispered. 'Me too.' Before propriety and regal dignity forced her to leave while the going was good.


	7. Chapter 7

**The Fortress at Nalbina**

_A/N: This is a scene that doesn't contain Ashe, which breaks tradition but I thought I should shed light on Balthier and Fran's relationship - because just as any suitor for Ashe must remember she will always look to Dalmasca's wellbeing first, so too must any suitor for Balthier remember that he will not willingly be parted from his partner Fran. _

' The Queen is keeping you in some style, I see.'

Balthier looked up from the reams of paper scattered over the table top as the door to his set of rooms in one of Nalbina's many towers opened and Fran sauntered in.

' A gilded cage is still a cage Fran.'

He muttered returning to the impressively pedantic formal writ of his crimes that the officious and humourless Chief Justice of Dalmasca had sent to him, Balthier having decided to defend himself in his upcoming trial.

Fran interestingly was being completely ignored in terms of her part in any of those aforementioned crimes and was disgustingly free to come and go as she pleased.

' You have enacted no escape, I see.'

Fran perched herself with nonchalant elegance on the counterpane of the rather nice four poster bed in the reasonably appointed bedroom/dining/ lounge area of his personal 'prison'.

'And cause an unfortunate political incident as the long arm of Dalmascan law stretches after me all over Ivalice? I think not.'

Balthier rubbed at his eyes, refusing to even contemplate that he might soon need reading glasses.

' I just don't understand what she's playing at Fran.' He admitted irritably throwing the official writ from him to flutter down on the table top.

Fran quirked an eyebrow, rose languidly to the table and picked up the Writ. Balthier watched her as she sat back down on the bed, crossed one leg over the other and read the transcript. Her brows stitched together and she looked up at him.

' I had thought you were here due to allegations of counterfeit Licences?'

'As did I.' Balthier muttered darkly.

He scraped back his chair, wincing as the legs screeched across the untreated stone floor and crossed the small room to crawl onto the foot of the bed, flopping backwards and stretching his arms across the covers.

Fran turned her head to look down on him, ' She is angry with you?'

Balthier sighed shifting his body until his head sank into plump pillows at the head of the bed, ' She was, on first being reacquainted, but I had thought she was in fair spirits when she left.'

Fran shifted herself until she sat up against the headboard beside him, her hands demurely folded together across her mid-rift and her phenomenal legs stretched almost the entire length of the bed.

' Why then does Ashe decree our actions on Bahamut as admissible evidence, does this not help your defence more so than her Justice's case against you?'

' To be quite frank, Fran, I have given up trying to fathom the workings of our Queen's mind.'

' You are in ill spirits.'

Balthier snorted derisively, ' This surprises you?'

Fran raised one shoulder in an elegant shrug, 'You are not glad to see her once more? Deny it as you please but you missed her these years past.'

' She arrested me, Fran. On decidedly flimsy grounds I might add.' He pointed out petulantly.

'Did you not create the Licence in question?'

He shot Fran a dark look, ' That is completely beside the point.'

Fran allowed a tiny smile to twitch her lips, ' Strange, that, I had thought your guilt should be the only point of interest in such matters.'

Balthier sat up, unable to lay still in his irritation. ' One bloody Licence after two years of keeping my nose out of her damned country and some very lucrative black markets, and this is the thanks I get.'

Fran pushed an errant strand of hair from her face, hoping to disguise the quivering smile that would not be smothered.

' So she should over turn the laws of her land, the laws under which her subjects are governed for a pirate, one born of her kingdom's former enemy no less?'

' It would be small recompense for saving her kingdom from total annihilation via falling sky fortress.' He retorted.

Balthier flexed his fingers swathed in the gloves he now habitually wore, the gesture having over-taken the little tick of pulling on his cuffs when annoyed these last few years.

' I have brought more ointment, have your hands pained you?' Fran's deft long clawed hand closed around his right gloved hand and began to work the glove off, Balthier deliberately did not look upon his hand.

' This foolish vanity does your hands no good, Balthier, the scar tissue needs air to breath and heal.'

Balthier cast a quick, furtive glance towards his right hand. The skin was red, splotchy and flaking, resembling the scaly flesh of rotting fish in Balthier's mind. The dark purplish tinge of acidic burns further enhanced the ghastly appearance of his hand.

' My hands are fine Fran.' He said disingenuously.

' Do you blame her for this?' She tapped her pointed nails against the scabby carapace which was once the back of his hand.

'Of course not, as I recall our queen did not force us to do something so bloody stupid as to return to a falling sky fortress.' He managed a wane smile for Fran.

'Does she know of your injuries?'

He shrugged diffidently, wishing Fran could be less perceptive.' I did not see that it mattered Fran, what's done is done.'

A smirk twitched to life on his face, which he continued to keep averted as Fran set about peeling some of the loose skin from between his fingers, beginning to spread the ointment on his damaged flesh.

' I did think to use my _handicap _as a last minute defence in my case should it look to be going against me in the trial.' He added impishly.

Fran sniffed, 'You have regained almost full dexterity in your hands now Balthier, it would be poor defence.'

'Only to those who know, Fran. I thought it could make a rather dramatic counterpoint to proceedings in the trial.' He winked at his partner.

' It does not appear the crime you are guilty of is the one you shall be tried for.' Fran said meditatively.

'Hmm, did you see the part where she has summoned Vaan and Penelo to testify against me? Now, that is ingratitude for you.'

Fran nodded, ' I fail to see her reasoning, unless she truly wishes you dead?'

Balthier shrugged, glad to have his hands back and wriggling them into their gloves while ignoring Fran's disapproval regards the action.

She may wear her scars from Bahamut freely, undaunted by the puckered scar tissue trailing her beautiful legs and torso where she was almost crushed by falling debris, but he was less sanguine.

' Power corrupts as they say.' He replied off-handedly.

' You have freedom to call witnesses to your own defence, whom shall you call?'

Balthier brushed a speck of lint from his silver and white embroidered waistcoat and checked his cuffs, speculatively.

' It is a dilemma.' He agreed mildly, ' Any I might call are either taken by the prosecution or unlikely to take kindly to the summons as they are like to be wanted by the authorities themselves.'

' A disadvantage of a life spent engaged in piracy.' Fran nodded.

' I'd be tempted to call our dear friend Basch, except that he is now his brother, or some such nonsense, and I don't want my trial to become a farce. It is like already to be something of a circus.'

'You would have it no other way.' Fran told him dryly, ' You will have your drama and enjoy every moment, as you well know.'

Balthier chuckled, ' Leading Man and all that Fran.' He conceded unabashed.

Idly, like a man playing absently with a mildly irritating scratch or burn, he picked up the Writ once more.

' I wish I knew what her intentions were Fran. I'd swear she doesn't hold any particularly murderous grudge against me, so why go to all this fuss? A few days in this draughty chamber and a slapped wrist would be sufficient punishment to fit the crime.'

' Does she not hold ill will against you for the manner of your last parting?'

'What parting?' Balthier frowned, ' Before last week when she finally deigned to visit me here in this cage of her devising, I had not laid eyes upon her majesty since we left the Strahl for the Bahamut as it fell.'

Fran gave him an eloquently raised eyebrow in reply. Balthier blinked in surprise.

' You think all this is because of _that_?'

The idea was ludicrous. What other possible outcome would there have been for the two of them? It wasn't as though a freshly anointed Queen could regularly entertain passing sky pirates, was it?

Ashe had known that any association between them could only be a fleeting one, surely?

Fran continued to give the look that she had not needed to inflict on him in many years, the one that said his stupidity was passing the point of amusement and she was losing patience with him.

Balthier felt himself growing pale, as he realised that of course Ashe would have seen things in a fundamentally different way than he did. Ashe who had remained stolidly in love with a corpse for almost three years, Ashe who did not give up ever, on anything.

Ashe who always stood and fought for what she believed in.

'Damn.'

'Indeed.' Fran agreed dryly.

Balthier barely heard her as he saw his and Ashe's recent reunion here in Nalbina in an entirely new light.

She had seemed oddly imperious, yet strained, and he had thought her response to his minor infringement upon the laws of her country something of an over-reaction in the extreme.

' Oh, bollocks.' He swore as the exact nature of his predicament came to light.

'Indeed.' Fran repeated but this time he could hear the echo of silent laughter that caused minute tremors to rack her shoulders.

'This is no laughing matter Fran.' He snapped; rolling gracefully from the bed, the Writ clutched in his hands, as he started to pace the stone floor.

' She is trying to ruin me!' He fumed.

What other answer was there? Yes, alright, she might have some grounds to be _disgruntled _with him for the manner of their parting after Bahamut, but he had her best interests in mind.

A blind man could see that while an association with a wanted sky pirate was useful in times of exile and life and death battles with evil empires, it was nothing short of an abdication worthy liability for a new Queen to count among her close acquaintances an Archadian born pirate whose father just happened to be responsible for the destruction of her husband's homeland.

That he had also wanted to put as much distance in terms of land and sky between himself and Ashe for more personal reasons was hardly relevant.

The only good thing Ffamran Bunansa had ever done, before abdicating his life in favour of Balthier, was decide categorically and unequivocally that loving another living being (unless they happened to be a self-sufficient Viera) was a pointless, painful waste of a good life.

'Ashe would still be mounting doomed acts of insurrection from the sewers if it wasn't for the two of us. How dare she presume to put _me_ on trial.' He muttered.

An idea pinged into existence inside his head, and a slanted smile scythed across his face, Fran frowned at him. She knew this particular expression boded only trouble.

' In fact I think I have a capital idea.'

Balthier glanced at the long list of names written on the Writ of all those friends and acquaintances who had been called by the Crown Prosecution of Dalmasca to cast aspersions on his good name. One name was conspicuously absent from the list.

'Balthier?' Fran queried him as he moved to the table and snatched up a quill pen, scratching in a name under the heading _witnesses for the defence._

'So her Royal Highness wishes to call me to account, does she? Then I shall return the favour.' He declared triumphantly, grinning.

Fran snatched the paper from him and both her eyebrows rose as she saw the name he had inscribed on the Writ.

'You would call Ashe as your only witness for the defence?' Fran allowed her incredulity to taint her tones.

' Oh, yes.' Balthier nodded empathically, spirits lifting.

'The Queen of Dalmasca, the head of the state that prosecutes you?'

'Show me where it states in the statute books,' Balthier waved at the volumes of Dalmasca's Law Code he had forced himself to read cover to cover in his boredom, 'that a Queen in state cannot be called as a witness in a case of law?'

Fran shook her head, 'You are mad, Hume.'

Balthier frowned at her, 'That's hardly nice.' He muttered aggrieved. He could be rather sensitive in regards to such statements casting doubt on his mental health.

Fran rose from the bed, walking over to him and looked at the Writ thoughtfully for a moment before then folding it neatly and tucking it into a pocket of the tunic she wore, having decided against her battle attire for this visit.

' Why must you Humes play such games? Your ways never cease to astound me.' She sighed.

'I will see this Writ reaches the chief Justice, though I know not how it will be received in Rabanastre.'

Balthier had already returned to the bed and reclined with arrogant confidence, folding his arms behind his head and settling down for an afternoon catnap.

' Thank you Fran. I have enjoyed this visit.'

Fran shook her head in exasperation as she knocked upon the door for the guards to let her out and escort her from the tower. Balthier was not certain but he thought he heard her mutter something more about the madness of Humes in love, but decided to ignore it.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Palace of Rabanastre, Grand Hall**

_A/N: This chapter is rather different again from what has gone before and paints Balthier in a somewhat unflattering light, I suppose, but I thought it important to illustrate that Ashe has a right to be angry as I sometimes think she comes across as a bit of a temperamental madam in this fic!_

Ashe watched from behind the thick tapestry curtain obscuring the entrance to the alcove she waited in (she would not call it hiding, she was merely waiting for the proper time to make her formal entrance).

At her back Penelo nervously plucked at the long sleeved gown she wore uncomfortably, Ashe really didn't mind the younger woman's tattoos but Penelo had some odd views on what one should wear when waiting on a Queen or expected to give evidence in Crown Court.

Ashe herself was strangely calm, that same serene sense of unfolding destiny that had also carried her through that last, monstrous encounter with the forces of Empire aboard Bahamut, enfolded her.

She had done all she could to affect a positive outcome and now it was out of her hands. What would be, would be, and the feeling of liberation shrugging off the burden of responsibility to some higher fate gave her was oddly uplifting.

The grand audience chamber of her palace had been transformed by her industrious serving staff (Ashe refused to refer to the people who worked in the palace as servants once she regained her title, two years living under the ground had taught her how to value people regardless of their lineage; for this reason Ashe had more palace staff than she needed but would be damned if she turned one of her people away if they wished to work.)

Serried rows of wooden pews much like those found in the Cathedral lined up in ranks either side of the chamber and a dock had been erected to the left of her throne of state with its velvet canopy for the and defendant and witness testimonies.

Ashe had insisted the trial be open to the public and already the pews were filled with the well-to-do of Dalmasca, and the galleries and pillared cloisters to the far reaches of the grand hall were thronged with what appeared to be most of the rest of Rabanastre's population.

Ashe allowed herself a tiny smile as she spotted diplomats and travelling pedlars of gossip from Bhujerba, Rozzaria and Archades among the crowds eager to bare witness to the trial of the famous sky pirate Balthier.

A strange excitement burbled in Ashe's stomach, she had presided over a number of trials for the highly sensitive crimes that required the judgement of the head of state but this, _this_, was so much more.

There was a ripple of commotion from the back of the hall as the huge gold carven doors of the chamber were heaved open and the crowds received their first glimpse of the infamous defendant himself.

Ashe, from her vantage point, slightly raised above the ground level, still could not see him as the crowds surged forward and a simply staggering wall of sound crashed like a tidal wave throughout the chamber.

Balthier had cultivated a reputation in certain circles of Ivalice's society before she had ever met him, but that reputation had reached staggering proportions when he became the first wanted felon to be on first name basis with all the leaders of Ivalice's greatest nations.

Not to mention his ship was known in Rabanastre as the 'Armistice Strahl' due to the fact that it was onboard the Strahl that a ceasefire was called to end all hostilities between Rabanastre and Archadia.

For her Chief Justice prosecuting the case against Balthier this made the prospect somewhat daunting, though the bird-like little man was determined to prove, irrevocably, that Balthier was a scoundrel and wastrel and guilty of his crimes.

Ashe found the notion that anyone could fail to realise Balthier was a scoundrel and a wastrel and guilty as original sin, highly amusing, not to mention implausible.

For Ashe this trial had a different purpose. She knew, of course she knew, that she and Balthier could not have a relationship with any semblance of normalcy, but numerous sleepless nights defending herself to the oil painting of her dead husband that hung from the wall of her private chamber, had convinced Ashe that she was willing to fight to keep this pirate in her life.

The only way she stood any chance of doing so was by throwing him to her people and hoping that he could charm an entire city state enough that they could forget certain undesirable character flaws, such as his criminality, his Archadian heritage, or his simply staggering arrogance and welcome his presence unreservedly.

Dalmasca, Ashe was certain, had a need for a good sky pirate; this trial she hoped would have her people equally convinced.

As her father had always told her, a monarch must always listen to the people. A ruler could only truly rule with the mandate of the people behind them.

Ashe had lost her family, her husband and all the people she had ever depended on at one time or the other and had accepted that loss as the price of duty and birthright. She would bear it with honour ever more.

She was prepared and willing to give her youth, her strength, and her life to Dalmasca and the restoration of her husbands homeland of Nabradia, but was it truly so terrible, so unfair, to want one little thing for herself? Even if he was a damned sky pirate?

_Finally!_

Finally she had her first glimpse of the pirate and she had to bite her lip on a grim smile to see him.

The words resplendent strutting peacock came to her mind, as he strolled with arrogant lack of haste towards the dock, gracefully receiving as his due the rabid attentions of the crowd.

He wore a vest that was so full of snowy white whorls of velvet and swirls of silver gilt thread that it hurt her eyes to look on it, his leather trousers were indecently tight as always but almost hidden under the snug encasing of thigh high supple leather boots bedecked in silver buckles.

His white belt pouches, bulging as ever, and the black gloves he still wore over his hands proved a sharp contrast to the luminous white of his shirt sleeves and unrelieved blackness of his trousers.

Ashe looked down on her own attire and was pleased that she had decided that she too should put on a sartorial display. It was ironic that their particular colour schemes would be so dramatically complimentary; white and silver to black and gold.

Taking in a deep breath, having waited for the furore to die down in the hall, Ashe swept aside the thick damask illustrated curtain and stalked into the hall, her attendants scurrying to keep up in her wake.

Ashe could not help the buoying sense of pleasure she received as the audience packing the hall for this, the first day of court, gasped to see her. Yes, she was very glad she had decided to have this particular gown made for her.

Ashe ascended the dais to her waiting throne, turned around to face the waiting court, every person standing to attention, and took a moment to simply drink this moment in. These were the moment she had been born for and she would enjoy them for all they were worth.

Ashe allowed herself a lightening fast sideways glance towards the dock and a thrill of delight ran from the diadem on head to the tips of her booted toes to see the unguarded expression of shock and desire on the pirate's face.

The boned and fitted bodice of her high collared jacket was made of glossy black silk and lushly embroidered with gold thread and opal beads, her skirt was a glittering strip of gold satin that complimented her metal greaves and the black leather of her knee high boots.

Balthier, she noticed, seemed to be having some trouble raising his gaze beyond her mid-rift, but he was not the only one. A Queen must always be able to captivate her audience, using any means at her disposal, so Ashe's tutors had taught her. The lesson she now put into practice, though perhaps, she admitted wryly, not in the way her tutors might have wished.

'Ladies, Gentlemen, citizens of Dalmasca and honoured guests, welcome to my palace.'

Ashe began her prepared speech. Years of oration training helping her voice carry smoothly to the back of the hall.

'We have gathered today to begin proceedings in the trial of Dalmasca versus Balthier Sky Pirate.'

Ashe felt somewhat silly referring to Balthier as such, but had no desire to plunge her court into the deep and murky waters of Balthier's true lineage, therefore his birth name would remain hidden, even her Chief Justice was unaware of who Balthier truly was.

'I am sure many of you know that I myself have a past association with the defendant, who was once a great asset in the restoration of Dalmasca's liberty. This I freely admit and it grieves me personally that this trial is necessary.'

Ashe paused to allow the court to absorb her words and saw in the corner of her eye Balthier scoff in scornful amusement at her statement, though he made sure the gesture would not be seen by anyone in the pews.

'However I am first and foremost a Queen and a Queen must see that the laws of her land are upheld for the good of all her citizens.'

Ashe again paused and deliberately turned to face Balthier directly as he lounged casually in the dock. Balthier gazed back at her with his usual facetious lack of concern, slight smirk quirking his lips.

Ashe turned away with what she hoped looked to the avid audience to be an expression of grieved resolve, even as a decidedly un-regal giggle threatened to escape her lips.

' A crime has been committed against Dalmasca, it is the duty of this court to decide if that crime was perpetrated by the defendant or not.'

A murmur rose from the packed crowds and Ashe waited for them to settle down once more before continuing.

'For this reason, due to the need for an impartial and unbiased judgement on the facts of this case, regardless of personal feeling, I have decided that final judgement on the case of Dalmasca versus Balthier Sky Pirate should be decided by public ballot.'

The hall erupted in excited chatter and Ashe saw Balthier twitch in the dock, he had not been informed of this arrangement beforehand, and for a moment his perfectly concocted expression of pleasant disinterest almost slipped before he caught himself.

Ashe bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from smiling and, once the clamour had subsided sufficiently, turned slightly towards her Chief Justice.

'Chief Justice Veniliss, would you be so kind as to give your opening statement so we may commence these proceedings?'

Her Chief Justice rose with bony eagerness and Ashe felt almost guilty that he had put so much effort into gathering a deluge of incriminating evidence against Balthier, all the while blissfully ignorant that his own sovereign was determined to see the prosecutions case fail.

Some of the evidence of Balthier's crimes Ashe was highly concerned about now that she knew of them, she had always fancied the pirate something of a poseur and dandy thief, but the circumstantial evidence and conjecture her Chief Justice had diligently gathered suggested a decidedly more ruthless criminal mind lurked behind his charming countenance.

She wondered if she truly even knew the pirate as she futively watched him stand to lounging attention as Veniliss started his speech. Ashe barely heard the Chief Justice's words, having heard numerous draft variations as the man prepared for trial.

' People of Dalmasca, as Her Royal Highness, Queen Ashelia, has already stated this is no ordinary criminal case, to treat it as such is to fail to understand the magnitude of the offence this man, this self-proclaimed sky pirate, has committed against not just the Kingdom of Dalmasca but against her sovereign queen as well.'

Veniliss pointed a long, bony finger rather over-dramatically towards the Dock and Ashe saw the quiver of a smile fight for freedom on Balthier's lips, but the pirate controlled the impulse and instead gazed steadily back at the Chief Justice.

Ashe deliberately kept her expression stoic and unmoved as the audience tittered in surprise and, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a slight frown pucker Balthier's brow as he briefly looked to her, before he quickly controlled it.

' This man who stands before you today once travelled with our Queen as she strove to free us all from the tyranny of the Empire, and he did indeed risk his life to steer the stricken Bahamut Sky Fortress from collision course with Rabanastre's paling, averting catastrophe.'

Veniliss, for all that he was a physically unimposing man had a magnificent voice, Ashe fancied mischievously that her Chief Justice may even have a better speaking voice than Balthier himself, hearing the two men dicker over legal technicalities was going to be an aural delight.

'Therefore, you may be asking yourselves, why Dalmasca would ever put such a man on trial, has he not earned our praise rather than our censure?'

Ashe couldn't help noticing Vaan, standing close to her dais on the right of the throne nod his head at this, it had come down to direct command, monarch to freshly knighted captain of arms to make the young man testify against Balthier.

'But I would ask you this, people of Dalmasca, does one act of heroism exonerate this man from the laws of the land? Does he now stand above the laws of Ivalice?'

Ashe nodded her head gravely. This was the real meat of the question, the main sticking point that could sway the case against Balthier; his complete contempt for monarchy and authority in general.

Ashe had to admit such views hardly sat well with her, she rather saw it as a personal insult given her status.

'And let us also consider the personal aspect of this case.' Veniliss continued gravely, his rich voice wrapping around the great hall pleasant but commanding.

'The Law can often seem impersonal and cold in the eyes of the people, we lawyers deal in facts and obscure legislative precedent, but the truth is, crime is imminently personal – we can all be victim to it.'

Ashe had to admit, not for the first time, that her Chief Justice was good, very good. A testament to this was the slight frown that had taken up permanent residence upon Balthier's brow, and that he now stood up straight in the dock, his eyes rooted with intense focus on her Chief Justice as he addressed the chamber.

'If a man who you trusted implicitly and gave your faith to unreservedly came to your home and stole from you, would you not feel deeply betrayed by that act? Would it not cast doubt on your faith in that man? Regardless of what good he had done for you in times past?'

Murmurs of agreement greeted Veniliss' silky question and Ashe saw Penelo twitch where she sat on the first step of the dais close to her queen, saw clearly in the young woman's honest face doubt slosh behind her eyes as she considered these words and their implicit truth.

Balthier's expression had not changed, he watched Veniliss like a hawk, the pirate was clever enough to see the trap the Chief Justice was baiting, to see where the man was going with his leading statements and emotive rhetorical questions.

' Ladies and Gentlemen, citizens of Dalmasca, this is the crime of which Balthier Sky Pirate stands accused. This man once risked his life for a country not his own and a Queen he owed no fealty to and was, as such, granted the trust of our sovereign and her gratitude, yet he returned to Dalmasca to rob her, to trick her, and defraud her people.'

A ripple of dismay went through the gathered crowd, all of them, whether they fully understood it or not, where now the jury in this extraordinary trial.

'Once this man would have been pardoned passed crimes and welcomed by our sovereign with open arms, in gratitude for his heroism aboard Bahamut, he chose instead to ply his illegal trade within Dalmasca. To abuse in secret a trust once given in all honesty, turning upon a country that would have rewarded him richly had he asked it and instead choosing to steal from the very pockets of Dalmasca's people.'

Even Vaan was now staring at Balthier with a complicated expression of confusion and anger on his round features.

Ashe winced inside that she must do this, strike a blow to Balthier's reputation in order to redeem it, and yet for all that she regretted it, there would be no case to answer for at all if Balthier was not guilty of everything Veniliss accused him of.

Whether she had been foolish to trust him or not, whether it was folly in the extreme to care for him as she did, mattered little, all that mattered was she had trusted him and depended on him, had believed in him in a way she had not allowed herself to believe in anyone since her father's death, and he had betrayed that trust.

Ashe was stirred from her thoughts and she realised with a start that Veniliss had finished his opening statement, Balthier had been sworn in, and had been released from the dock so he could begin his rebuttal.

Ashe sat up even straighter in her throne. More than anything she wanted the silver-tongued pirate to talk his way out of the accusations made against him. She so wanted to forgive him and yet she feared that all he would do was further hurt her.

She watched as she knew everyone else did, Balthier step down from the dock, walk to the centre of floor and stand quietly at the foot of her dais to look straight up at her as she sat on her throne.

As the expectant silence ticked on, excruciating slowly, Balthier flexed his fingers in his gloves, tugged on his cuffs and brushed his hands down the front of his velvet vest with nonchalant grace.

He opened his mouth, eyes rooted to her, and Ashe could not care less that he was perpetrating a near unforgivable breach of protocol by not kneeling before her; she held her breath waiting for his words.

It felt to her as if time had rolled back and she was once more the scared and desperate girl, caught red handed trying to steal an airship she could not even fly from the Bhujerba aerodrome and reduced to almost begging a man she did not even know to provide a means to make her desires come true.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Palace of Rabanastre: Grand Hall**

A/N: It's funny but I have absolutely no idea where this is going – it's quite exciting to write as even I don't know how the pirate and the former princess are going to wriggle out of the mess they've made!

* * *

_Ladies and Gentlemen, citizens of Dalmasca, this is the crime of which Balthier Sky Pirate stands accused. This man once risked his life for a country not his own and a Queen he owed no fealty to and was, as such, granted the trust of our sovereign and her gratitude, yet he returned to Dalmasca to rob her, to trick her, and defraud her people._

The humourless little man's words reverberated around Balthier's skull. He had to admit the man was good and so, it appeared, was Ashe. His Queen had learned a little deviousness since they'd travelled together.

Balthier would have been more impressed had he not been a victim of this new slanted thinking on her majesty's part.

The fact that he was now forced to defend himself against these preposterous charges, which amounted to little more than the spite of a woman who felt herself scorned, left him swallowing down a frisson of pure rage as he gathered his thoughts and pasted a smile upon his face.

He looked up and met her majesty's eyes, opening his mouth and preparing to give breath to his opening words. He had worked out fairly swiftly, once her man had started expounding on broken trust and fallen heroes, what Ashe's game was and a fuse of anger inside him had lit.

Yet when he met those storm tossed eyes, he found himself faltering. Ashe was a creature of passions, she had little subtlety to her, as was apparent by her current attire, which while certainly appreciated, was hardly what one might call understated. She was fire and ice and love and hate, diametrically different to his own muddled palette in shades of moral ambiguity.

Looking into her eyes now he saw so clearly what went on behind her stoic, almost vacant, expression. It scared him more than anything had ever scared him in his life, and he included facing down his deranged father in that assessment.

She was in love with him and perfectly prepared to fight for him, even if that meant fighting _against _him to do so. Ashe was not a woman to say no to lightly; and what's more she had trapped him.

Balthier had absolutely no idea how he was to free himself from these emotional and metaphorical bonds. He almost hated Ashe for trapping him so.

But he knew he was trapped not only by her machinations but by his lingering -_affection – _(he could not even formulate the word love inside his own mind. Pirates did not love, ergo, he could not love her, regardless of any feelings to the contrary he might be currently experiencing) for Dalmasca's ill-tempered majesty.

Balthier felt his smirk slide into place as he deliberately turned his back on Ashe and looked over the sundry assembled Bangaa, Seeq, Moogle, Viera and Humes that created the Rabanastre melting pot.

Regardless of emotional tumult and uncomfortable issues regarding romantic expectations, the leading man must always put on a show, and he had never seen a better stage than this one.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, good citizens of Dalmasca,'

He addressed the pews letting his gaze wander up to the public galleries on the mezzanine floors of the grand hall as he nonchalantly strolled across the floor until he was standing almost directly in front of the first pew to the right side of the hall.

Knowing he had the full attention of the crowds he fiddled with his left cuff with apparent unconcern and flicked his gaze sideways to see Ashe fighting a scowl up on her monstrously tasteless throne.

' This is quite a rum do, isn't it?' He spoke almost conversationally, it was just that he was having a one sided conversation with approximately five hundred people.

Balthier started to stroll the length of the pew, trailing his gloved hand over the front barrier as he moved to stand in the aisle, the best position to allow everyone in the hall to see him properly.

'I must confess I find myself quite at a loss.' He continued in the same cheerful, conversational tones.

The weedy little Chief Justice had taken the dramatic approach, hammering the audience (he would not view this gathered rabble as a jury when this whole fiasco of a trial was nothing less than public theatre) with long words and emotive questions that made a mockery of the supposed impartiality of the law.

' I came here today expecting to defend myself against a relatively simple accusation of forgery and now find myself reviled and maligned in most unexpected fashion. I am, apparently, liar and betrayer most foul, it would seem.'

He shot a laughing glance towards the Chief Justice and nodded his head ironically towards the melodramatic little bureaucrat.

'He gives a good speech, does he not?' He inquired of the audience. 'I for one found it quite thrilling, but then I have always enjoyed a good work of fiction.'

The Chief Justice twitched in suppressed outrage and Balthier smothered a broader smirk.

'You see it is quite extraordinary to myself to find that I am accused of slinking into your fair country and,' he paused as if in thought, 'what were the exact words?'

He made a show of considering and then let his sharp smile slip free, 'Oh, yes, of robbing, tricking and defrauding a queen and her entire population.'

Balthier, half way down the aisle of pews, looked up at the gathered of Rabanastre that leaned over the marble banisters of the galleries to gape at this laughable spectacle, he fixed his eyes on one apple cheeked girl who looked vaguely like Penelo had two years ago, and winked.

' I must be the greatest Sky Pirate that ever lived to have managed to so thoroughly infiltrate this city, spreading my vile criminality as I go; to have robbed and tricked and defrauded each and every one of you without even once setting foot in Rabanastre since her liberation.'

The audience shifted nervously and a few titters floated down from the galleries, Balthier smiled slyly.

' I'm sure the Chief Justice will confirm this fact, as he has been so even handed in his summation of my character thus far.' He added examining the fit of his glove on his left hand.

The Chief Justice stood stiffly immobile by his bench, piles of paper gathered in neat stacks, Balthier sauntered across the left hand side of the hall, almost able to feel, as a physical weight, the eyes of the audience following his passage.

'I freely admit to the title of Sky Pirate, in fact, I happen to be a bloody good one. One of the very best, I dare say.'

A number of surprised, vaguely scandalised, chuckles rose up from the pews as he swept back up the front of the aisle towards Ashe who sat rigidly still in her throne. She may as well have been carved from marble for all the animation in her expression.

'I am certainly guilty of robbing, stealing, cheating and defrauding my way around Ivalice.'

He chuckled as around him exclamations of shock at his disclosure set the entire hall to murmurs and gasps.

Balthier had seen enough of Ivalice's shameless heart to know that there was nothing the common folk liked more than an unrepentant rogue, a role he rather enjoyed playing to the hilt, as happy coincidence had it.

He kept his eyes on Ashe and saw a spark of either amusement or anger, perhaps both, ignite briefly in her grey, usually solemn eyes in response to his last statement.

'However I have never trespassed against the good name of her Majesty Queen Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca. I have never betrayed her Highness, or perpetrated harm to her people. If there has been a betrayal of trust here, it is not on my part.'

The humour left his tone as he locked gazes with Ashe, this was the truth. He failed to see how his actions could be construed as a betrayal of the - _association_ – they had enjoyed during their little excursion against the Occuria.

He was a Sky Pirate. Sky Pirate's stole and smuggled contraband and traded in the black markets, it was what they did. Did she think he and Fran spent all their time poking about decrepit ruins for the odd shiny trinket?

What had Ashe thought he would do after the liberation? Beg her for a position on her serving staff as she had granted Vaan and Penelo? Hang up his flying leathers and remain her faithful peon ever more?

He prepared to address the waiting audience again but kept his eyes solely on Ashe, she had brought this on herself. She could have simply let him go. He would not regret what he said next, nor save her from the consequences.

'Her majesty was well aware of my profession during the time we travelled together; in fact she engaged my services in her endeavours over two years ago with the full knowledge of my chosen vocation.'

Balthier declared, refusing to relinquish his hold on her gaze even as he saw Ashe's eyes widen as she realised what he was about to say.

'Her Majesty required transportation to the Sandsea and offered in payment the treasure of Raithwall's Tomb.'

The hall exploded in shock, the large chamber soon filled to bursting with the insidious hissing of scandalized whispers.

He raised his voice to be heard over the hall, Balthier had held hostage entire ballrooms filled with drunken Rozzarian revellers and knew well how to capture the attention of a rambunctious audience.

' I am left to wonder that her Majesty suffers such a sense of betrayal in regards my actions, as she once wilfully threw open the doors of her country's greatest ancient tomb for a known sky pirate to take what he pleased.'

Ashe looked ready to launch herself from her throne and behead him herself, Balthier made sure the smirk and wink he gave her could not be seen by their excitable audience.

Her Highness assumed the pot was hers, but this pirate still had a few tricks up his sleeve yet.

Balthier deliberately and confidently turned his back on her, which was somewhat akin to turning one's back on a Couerl ready to pounce, but Balthier had always had an unhealthy disregard for his own safety.

'I would also point out in my own defence that I took not one shiny coin nor pretty trinket from the Tomb and stayed at her Majesty's side throughout her venture, to the great detriment of my personal fortunes both material and otherwise.'

He let his wry smirk slip free deliberately and was gratified by the guffaws of laughter that greeted his tongue-in-cheek confession from the upper galleries.

Though Balthier was silver spoon aristocracy to the very marrow of his bones, he had rubbed shoulders with the lower classes long enough to know that it was the angry mob you needed to win over in any point of contention, not the toffs.

'Therefore ladies and gentlemen of Dalmasca I plead not guilty to all the charges brought against me. I am no traitor, and while as I am a thief and a sometime user of the more obscure truths,'

He waited for the expected sniggers at his careful use of language, well understood by crooked vendors and habitual liars throughout Ivalice, before continuing.

'And I have been known as a purveyor of high quality counterfeit merchandise; I have honoured my true and noble love for her Majesty Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca and have _never_ trespassed against _her_ or her_ people_.'

He put as much earnest sincerity into his voice as he could muster, and found that most of the sentiment he infused into his words was genuine.

Alright, he had made the Licence that had landed him in this mess, but that had been a one off, other than that he had stayed clear of Dalmasca in respect for Ashe.

It was time, he decided, for a little melodrama, because the masses love a bit of drama, don't they?

Moving with a flourish of contrite emotionalism, while still remaining conscious of his audience and the need to maintain a sense of grace and decorum to this particular side-show, he moved swiftly up the first two steps of Ashe's dais.

Ashe's eyes widened fractionally and she had to stop herself from saying anything. In the periphery of his awareness Balthier was aware of Vaan caught in a quandary of indecision as he hesitated to move to his Queen's side and possible defence, as Balthier deliberately invaded her Majesty's personal space.

With the sonorous hiss of the audience's excited whispers at his back and aware of the guards moving in cautiously from all sides, Balthier dropped with theatrical slowness to his knees with utmost penitence and grasped Ashe's hand in his.

'Your Highness, I have never wronged you, that you could believe such heinous acts of my person is a wound to my very soul.'

He declared boldly, keeping his head bowed over her hand, which was rigid in his own. He could almost feel Ashe twitching with suppressed rage. He could also feel the power of a captivated audience at his back.

The people of Dalmasca had no doubt hoped for a little excitement and scandal from this trial but he would give them a performance of epic proportions.

In voice set a-quiver with carefully contrived emotion and faux sincerity he continued his deliberately ambiguous declaration, knowing Ashe would recognise the barb to his words but was currently powerless to do a thing against him, whether that meant slapping him silly or stringing him up in chains.

'Your Majesty I hold you in the highest of esteem, please allow me to prove to you, without shadow of doubt, that I am as much your loyal servant as ever I was when we travelled together.'

Titillated gasps filled the hall as he bravely and very visibly laid a flamboyant kiss to the back of her hand and her signet ring. Ashe's assorted ladies in waiting tittered and swooned and Balthier raised his eyes, challengingly, to his Queen.

The look of livid fury burning in her eyes was more precious to him at that moment than a mountain of gold and jewels. Vengeance he found was indeed sweet.

' Well, Princess,' he purred so low that only she would hear him, his lips hovering over her hand he still held captive in his, causing his breath to tickle over her skin.

'It is your move now.'


	10. Chapter 10

**Nalbina Fortress, Balthier's 'suite'**

_A/N: Warning! Drama, angst and some steaminess ahead – just a fraught little recess between court proceedings. _

_P.S: This scene just popped out of nowhere and the two of them shift moods pretty dramatically halfway through. It makes sense to me but I admit I have less of a handle on Ashe's character than Balthier's - so is it believeable or too much?_

_P.P.S: thank you everyone who has read and reviewed, your feedback keeps this weird little tale going, truly._

* * *

' You filthy, manipulative, Imperial bastard!' 

Ashe let loose a hand to slap that damned smirk permanently from his face, the accursed pirate ducked before grabbing her wrist tightly and jerking her off balance so that she stumbled against him.

'Now, now, _your Highness_, I am only playing the game you started. Did you think I would simply roll over and let you ruin me?'

He sneered letting go of her wrist and slipping past her away from her fists and her feet, she spun around to watch him, breathing hard and flatly refusing to cry.

'I hate you.' She hissed. Overcome with the well of suppressed emotion she had been unable to show during the first day of the trial.

He turned slowly to look over his shoulder at her. His usually full bottom lip pinched and his mouth a hard, flat line.

'I am not feeling too partial to you right now, either.' He spat coldly.

Ashe sat on to the edge of the plush four poster bed she had allowed the pirate to have in his cell. The rooms of this tower were both well appointed and comfortable. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through her rage.

'I should have you imprisoned underground like the vermin you are.' She whispered through her teeth.

'Perhaps you should, I've escaped Nalbina's dungeons before.' His voice opening mocked her.

Ashe's eyes flew open at his tone, 'Because of your theatrics today most of Dalmasca now think we are lovers. I am being called a shrew and a scorned mistress in my own streets!'

He simply gazed back at her cold, arrogant, and snidely amused, 'If the glove fits; your majesty.'

If he had slapped her it couldn't have hurt more. 'I am still Queen here, how dare you speak to me like this?'

She tried to lever herself up from the edge of the bed, her limbs weak and her lungs aflame, all her strength had left her and she felt as light and inconsequential as a dead leaf on the wind.

She could not forget the look of cruel contempt in his eyes as he had knelt at her feet and kissed her hand during his rebuttal speech, managing to make the gesture of reverence appear indecent in front of her entire court.

It was the same look of mild, uncaring, distain and lack of feeling she had seen when he nonchalantly demanded Rasler's ring from her all those years ago.

It was all she could do to calmly declare proceedings over for the day and restrain from flying at him like a common fish wife. She had maintained her dignity and composure in the face of Judge Magisters and Vayne Solidor but this pirate could undo her with a few choice words and the curl of his lip.

She had been working herself into a towering rage for hours waiting until it was sufficiently late to slip away from the Palace in Vaan's airship to come and give the pirate a piece of her mind.

'You will treat me as befits my status and _your_ current predicament.' She demanded with as much cold and regal command as she could. She could not believe he was behaving like this. Didn't he know she was trying to save him?

Did he simply not care for her at all?

'No.' Balthier said flatly, ' I will not.'

Something broke inside her, a combination of a long day and the sudden reappearance of the pirate in her life, and a huge sob tore free of her throat, she fought it but the next sob escaped also and then it was as if a dam had broken and she wept openly, and cursed herself her weakness.

Balthier merely stood there and watched.

'Are you enjoying this Pirate?'

She snarled, strangely her strength seemed to have returned with her tears, 'is this what you wanted to see? Did you plan this? Does it give you pleasure to watch me subvert the laws of my own kingdom for you, to see me made a laughing stock and fool in front of my people?'

Balthier watched her, his face half draped in shadow appeared oddly solemn and cold. He shook his head slowly.

'I never wanted any of this, Ashe.' She heard regret in his voice but could no longer trust anything he said, she wondered if she had been a fool to ever trust him?

She hated him more in that moment than she had hated anything or anyone in her life, including Vayne Solidor, and yet she couldn't bear the feeling that afflicted her. The sensation that she was about to fly apart like dust in the wind, her soul torn to pieces by the rage and pain inside her.

Ashe rose from the bed and paced towards the window, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry over him.

'Why? Why did you behave like that today? You knew how your actions would be perceived.'

She choked and hated herself, more than him, for her weakness. She forced herself to meet his eyes and despite the furore of emotions rampaging inside her she was startled to see that his face was pale and he looked almost upset.

Balthier groaned sounding both frustrated and angry as he quickly stepped up to her.

'Gods damn it, Ashe. You had your man accuse me of treachery. You put me on trial and locked me away here for over a month. What did you think I would do, thank you?'

He snapped, fiercely gripping her shoulders, but he did not push her away. Ashe could feel the tremor in his hands through the fabric covering her shoulders. He was shaking.

To her mute shock he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, pressing his lips to her skin and for a moment simply breathed in her scent. Ashe remained still under his lips, taking one deep breath after another.

He pulled back from her and turned his head, the same grim tightness to his features she remembered from that night on the rocks on Balfonheim beach so long ago.

'Yes you should thank me.' Ashe almost screamed, stamping her foot.

Did he not realise the enormous risk she took by doing all this, or being here with him now? Could he not tell she was deadly serious? What more did she have to do? She was flirting with utter disgrace already.

She stamped away from him, 'You broke the law of my realm Balthier and despite this I am risking my reputation and my throne to see you are exonerated.'

Balthier turned to face her, expression filled with incredulity, his eyes showing more emotion, more anguish, than she had ever seen, save on the rare occasion he spoke of his father.

'You _are_, really? I fail to see how, considering it is your Chief Justice who is prosecuting me, your bloody people who will see me swing for upsetting their beloved sovereign.'

He shot back, in the exact same tone of voice as she had used towards him, before he turned to walk over to the bed, turning his back on her and holding onto the post of the bed, resting his forehead wearily against the carved wood.

'Ashe, you have to let me go.' He said after a fraught silence in a voice she did not recognise, one that carried none of his usual elaborate self confidence.

'You have already ruined me, end this farce before you ruin yourself as well. This is not a game you can win.'

'Tell me you don't love me.' Ashe snapped back walking across the cold, stone floor and climbing onto the bed so that she could kneel on the counterpane and face him eye to eye.

He refused to meet her gaze. Something fought for freedom in Ashe's chest, like a trapped bird, it felt suspiciously like hope. Though she knew not what she truly hoped for.

'Say it.' She demanded heatedly when he contrived to ignore her.

'Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me, that Balfonheim meant nothing to you and I will help you escape this fortress myself, tonight. You will never have to see me or fear Dalmasca's watchmen ever again.'

Her heart hammered in her chest as the silence dragged on. With every passing second that he hesitated her formless and insubstantial hope grew.

When he spoke his voice was academically dry and urbane, devoid of honest sentiment as he still refused to look at her.

'Interesting, you would be prepared to let me go if I say I don't love you, but not if I say I do. That hardly seems fair to me.'

Balthier finally looked at her, a familiar spark of humour in his eyes, he leaned his head close to hers.

'Answer my question.' She commanded, their lips almost touching.

Ashe refused to let him distract her from her question, but found herself wondering what _did_ she truly want from him; a friendly ear to listen to her frustrations?

To sympathise with her that her treasury had not the resources to affect all the reforms and renovations she would see made to Dalmasca, let alone to begin work on making Nabudis habitable once more?

Or did she wish to make of him a personal privateer to steal for her the Gil to affect those changes? Or a lover to be kept in a nice gilded cage for when she had need of comfort?

'I could simply lie. That would seem to be the pertinent choice given my limited options.'

He breathed against her lips. Ashe felt her eyes flutter closed in anticipation even as her thoughts continued to whirl.

And what about him; did his wants matter not at all? She had already snatched away his liberty and this very public trial made a return to privacy impossible for him, perhaps she _should_ let him go now for his sake?

'Are you going to lie?' She whispered, as his lips came down on hers, met, joined, and then they parted once more. She heard him chuckle, though she kept her eyes closed.

'Like I said, Highness, you've created for us a fine mess this time. Did no one tell you queens and pirates do not traditionally make good love matches?'

She felt her heart jump painfully in her chest; he had used the word 'love' and not prefixed it with 'I don't'. This was, for the moment, the only part of his statement she considered relevant.

'I am not governed by tradition.'

She retorted and was rewarded by his slight smile and the spark of acknowledgement in his laughing dark gaze, all her anger and his dissipating in the suddenly charged atmosphere between them.

She wound her arms about his neck and rose up on her knees to meet him, leaning against his chest, the bedsprings creaking slightly in argument. She kissed him.

' That….,' Balthier began to reply around another deep kiss, ' is palpably…mmm…,' she tried to stem the flow of sardonic witticism with her lips and tongue but he would have none of it, '... obvious.' He finished slightly breathlessly.

She rolled her eyes and brought her lips to his once more, 'I cannot help but notice…,'

She began, before he interrupted her this time with a kiss, their bodies moulding together as Ashe slipped her hands around his narrow, tapered waist to begin attacking the fiendishly complicated clasps and ties keeping his vest adhered to his torso.

She sighed deeply as Balthier's gloved hand began to ease up her right thigh, his other hand curling around the back of her neck as he kissed her.

'Mmm, Balthier.' She shook her head to clear it, 'Balthier! You have yet to answer my question.'

'What question?'

He sounded as if he might genuinely have forgotten her original question. Ashe herself was having to call upon on all her diplomatic training to keep her thoughts in order as Balthier's hand continued its maddeningly slow climb up her leg, his leather swathed fingers dancing over her tender flesh.

She gave his backside a sharp pinch in irritation and he flinched and frowned at her.

'Do you want me to let you go?' She demanded, now she had his attention.

Balthier raised an eyebrow, hand stilling on her leg. 'That was not the original question.'

Ashe narrowed her eyes, still trying to pry her fingers between the fastenings of his vest, almost tempted to attack the damned thing with her dagger sheathed in her boot. How, by all the gods, did he dress himself in the morning?

'I have changed the wording of the question as you seemed reluctant to answer the _original _phrasing, the answer will amount to the same thing, however.' She snapped.

Balthier's expression became a shade more solemn and for a moment Ashe thought he might not give the answer she wanted.

'I suppose it will at that.'

He mused more to himself than her, reaching his hand behind his back and lightly slapping her fumbling fingers away to release the clasps to his vest himself, with simply staggering ease.

'No self respecting sky pirate enjoys being locked up and put on public trial. I really should take you up on that escape offer.' He said distractedly, even as he worked the vest off his shoulders and arms.

Ashe resisted the desire to shake him in her frustration, could he not simply say it? Three little words, for a man with his vocabulary and dexterity with language, those words could hardly be difficult for him to say. At least they shouldn't be.

' Do you _want_ to go, Balthier.' She hissed, biting her lip.

He looked at her; she watched some odd and complex series of expressions pass over his sharp features.

'No.' He said eventually. The monosyllabic response took Ashe by surprise and it took a moment for his meaning to sink in.

'I do not want to go.'

For a moment they just looked at each other, quietly. Ashe held her breath for his next words, hoping. He cleared his throat almost awkwardly.

'I have no desire to leave now, especially as tomorrow I have the pleasure of cross examining you on the witness stand.'

He told her and Ashe repressed the slight surge of irritated disappointment that he had refused to say those particular words she had been waiting for. He graced her with a crooked smile, gentler than his usual smirk.

'I have been looking forward to giving you a thorough grilling in the dock, your Highness.'

He added sounding more his usual self as he saw the obvious reaction Ashe had to his words, the fact that she had almost stopped breathing.

Ashe recovered and stifled a laugh more in relief than amusement, letting her breath out slowly and resting her hands on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin through his thin shirt now the vest was gone.

'Over confidence will be the death of you pirate. You might think you have made a good showing for yourself on this first day, but my Chief Justice is a marvel when it comes to cross examination, you may find yourself out-classed.'

She carded her fingers through his close cropped hair, deliberately ruffling it, as she leaned back down towards the bed, drawing him down with her.

Balthier, one knee braced against the bed and one arm holding the bedpost, resisted her arms pulling him down; he quirked an eyebrow insinuatingly.

'Is that so?' He mused lazily. 'Hmm, well now, I may have to brush up on my technique in that case.'

He purred climbing up on the bed as Ashe drew herself up towards the head of the bed and waited, nibbling her lip in anticipation.

'I would hate to disappoint your Majesty when I come to cross examine you on the witness stand.'

Ashe nodded gravely and looked up at him coolly. 'Indeed, pirate, your reputation would likely not survive if you failed to perform to expectations at the pivotal moment.'

He was moving too slowly so Ashe grabbed hold of him by the sleeves and almost caused him to fall on top of her by pulling his arms out from under him.

'Patience is a virtue, Highness.' He chuckled coming to rest on one elbow at the head of the bed beside her.

Ashe glared at him, ' As if you know anything of virtue, pirate.' She scoffed.

'Oh, you would be amazed at the things I know, _Princess.' _He whispered in her ear, leaning across her and nibbling her neck, playfully.

'And, for the record, you need not worry, my performance will not be _lacking,_ I assure you. I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve yet.'

He drawled lifting his head to give his attentions to the other side of her neck, his dangling ear-ring brushing her cheek.

Ashe sighed, her spine bowing up from the bed as his wicked fingers began to explore any bared flesh on her person. He nipped her neck, by the divot of her collar bone, sharply, causing her to gasp and loosen her grip on the back of his head.

He raised his head and winked at her, 'Not all of my _tricks_ are suitable for the witness stand I fear, so I had better show them to you now.' He added impishly, before capturing her mouth for a kiss.

Ashe decided to allow him to do just that, for most of the night, confident that Vaan would wait patiently with the Beirouge to have her back in Rabanastre for the next day of the trial.

She would just have to hope Balthier had the stamina to defend himself come morning, as she intended to give him no quarter in this game they played. After all, the longer she could make this trial drag on the longer she could keep this pirate exactly where she wanted him.


	11. Chapter 11

**The Grand Hall: Palace of Rabanastre**

_A/N: This is going to be a long one, I'm afraid – and yes I have been watching Pirate's of the Caribbean: At Worlds End – if anyone reading this might be wondering. ; )_

* * *

There should be laws against this sort of thing, Balthier mused as he lounged in his chair behind the completely empty desk in front of the throne dais in the grand hall of the palace of Rabanastre. 

Chief Justice Veniliss was busily interrogating Vann who currently stood fidgeting in the witness dock, clearly wondering what in all Ivalice was going on.

Balthier was entertaining similar thoughts. He had expected the first witness to be called would be the dim-witted oaf Balthier had had the grave misfortune of selling the Licence to that had landed him in this mess, instead Ashe's man had called Vaan – or rather _Captain _Vaan, to the stand.

'What is your past association with the Defendant?' Venilliss demanded a tad melodramatically of Vaan.

' Umm.' Vaan rubbed at the back of his neck and looked down at his metal booted feet which audibly scraped across the floor of the dock. Balthier bit back a smile as he caught Vaan's averted gaze.

Balthier had decided during their odd little quest to end tyranny in Ivalice two years ago, that Vaan simply could not be as stupid as he appeared on first acquaintance, or in fact, as the evidence of his actions suggested.

It strained the laws of credulity that he could have survived on his own for two years if he truly was as slow-witted as he appeared to be.

Once Balthier had come to this conclusion he had felt better about taking the boy under his wing, metaphorically speaking, and giving him custodianship of the Strahl while he and Fran had been otherwise indisposed.

Balthier knew something of playing a role, and while acting as the token idiot lacked a certain sophistication in his book, Balthier would at least admit Vaan was as dedicated to his performance as Balthier was to that of the leading man.

'I will rephrase the question Capain Vaan, can you tell me how you first came to meet the Defendant.'

Veniliss helpfully pointed to Balthier as he spoke and Balthier saw Vaan's tiny smile, surprisingly similar to a smirk, as he flicked his otherwise innocent eyes over to Balthier.

' Umm, I met him in the Palace Treasury during Vayne Solidor's consulship party.' Vaan said in that wonderfully insipid manner of his that could drive even the most avid listener into a state of catatonic boredom within minutes.

_Thank you Vaan, whatever Ashe is paying you, you deserve more_.

Balthier thought to the younger man, who took playing the fool to new and spectacular heights. Veniliss was not two minutes into his interrogation and already he looked ready to pull what little hair he had left on his head, clean out, at the roots.

'And could you please tell the jury what the Defendant was doing in the Palace Treasury?'

'Same thing I was, stealing stuff.' Vaan said stolidly.

Balthier raised a hand and feigned a cough to hide the laugh he couldn't smother; he was going to have to buy the newly minted Captain a pint when all this was over.

He allowed himself a glimpse up at Ashe on her throne and saw that she was flapping her beautifully decorated fan vigorously in front of her face; he could tell the gesture was designed to hide her own mirth.

'But you were attempting to make a political statement in support of the resistance by this theft, were you not? While as - '

Balthier rose easily to his feet and Veniliss stopped speaking, the pinched expression on his beaky face clearly demonstrated the Chief Justice knew exactly what objection Balthier was about to raise as he extended one hand languidly in the air and cleared his throat.

' Objection your Majesty, that is a leading statement. The Chief Justice cannot justify the witness' actions in such a way, without knowing the true purpose of my own presence in your Treasury. I too may well have been making a political statement in favour of the Rabanastran Resistance.'

Ashe sighed and folded away her black and green painted fan, which happened to compliment the dark, dark green of her tight fitting bodice with its dyed Chocobo feathered high collar.

' Objection upheld,' She declared regally.

' Chief Justice Veniliss both the Witness and the Defendant's actions on that night have been established as legitimate prior to this trial and cannot be used as evidence in these proceedings.'

Balthier bit back a smirk as the Chief Justice looked ready to commit an act of violence, he settled gracefully back down in his chair, satisfied.

' Very well, Your Highness.' Veniliss bowed smoothly and turned back towards Vaan.

' You were, for a short time, in the employ of the Defendant, were you not, Captain Vaan, before coming to the Queen's service?'

Vaan blinked surprised and Balthier swallowed down an irritated sigh, Veniliss was going for the jugular now.

' Well no, not exactly.' Vaan said awkwardly.

Veniliss turned from the dock and looked out at the audience, word of the fun and frolics of the opening day of the trial had spread through Rabanastre and there were now close to seven hundred citizens packed into the hall.

Because of the sheer volume of bodies pressed into this relatively small space and the staggering desert heat pressing down on the hall from outside, it was unbelievable hot in the grand hall and the flap of various fans made Balthier feel as if he was trapped inside an aviary filled with irritable birds.

' Perhaps _employ_ is the wrong word, I confess myself unfamiliar with the intricacies of a vocation in piracy.'

Veniliss was aiming for humour but did not have the right demeanour for it; he received a few disparate titters but little more. In Balthier's opinion the little man should stick to doom and gloom, which appeared to be his forte.

The Chief Justice cleared his throat sharply and turned back to Vaan, ' Captain Vaan please answer this question, if you will.'

Vaan nodded his head politely and assumed an expression of vacuous expectancy.

' Were you not the Defendant's apprentice for a period of some ten months before turning your back on piracy and taking up your current station?'

'No I was not.' Vaan said clearly.

Balthier bit down hard on his inside lip and caught in the periphery of his vision Fran shake out her long mane in amusement as she sat in a quiet shadowed corner in a private vestibule to the far side of the hall.

Fran could not abide crowds and would endure being jostled by profusely perspiring Rabanastrans about as well as she did Mist.

To avoid a repeat performance of her berserker rage onboard the light cruiser Shiva, Ashe had found her a private cloister for her to watch proceedings.

'You were not? I'm sorry, I was under the impression you and the Lady Penelo worked alongside the Defendant aiding him on many smuggling runs and other acts of international piracy.'

'Yeah, but I was never his apprentice.' Vaan said simply and then he decided to elaborate further, his own flair for the dramatic taking hold.

'You have to have a pirate contract and take an oath to be a sky pirate's apprentice; otherwise anyone would go about calling themselves a sky pirate. I helped Balthier and –'

Vaan hesitated stopping himself from saying Fran's name, who, presumably to avoid confusing the issue, Ashe had decided for the sake of this trial, did not exist.

'Umm, anyway, I did some jobs with Balthier but I was never a sky pirate because I didn't go through initiation.'

Balthier was nodding his head, for once grateful for the archaic peculiarities of his fellow pirates, Vaan had been due to take the pirate's mark tattoo, but had decided to become a replacement Basch in Ashe's service instead.

At the time Balthier had been exceedingly irritated with this decision, he had spent a lot of valuable time teaching the pick-pocket the tricks of the trade only to have him turn his back on sky piracy altogether, now he was pleased with how beneficial Vaan's unfortunate swing towards respectability had proved to be.

Balthier, catching a hold of his wandering thoughts and stifling a heat induced yawn, sat up in his chair and tried to concentrate on proceedings, it would not do to fall asleep in the middle of his own trial.

Vaan had finished explaining the formal process of becoming a Balfonheim accredited sky pirate and the hall was still tittering over the highly entertaining fact that it was harder to become a sky pirate than to enter most legitimate trades.

Veniliss was looking slightly purple in the face, Balthier supposed it could be due to the heat but somehow, as the man walked over to his neat stacks of paper on his table and shuffled them angrily, Balthier rather doubted the temperature had anything to do with it.

' Your Witness, sir.'

The officious little man snapped with strained formality. Balthier rose to his feet with a gracious smile and nod and took the time to stretch the kinks from his back.

He strolled nonchalantly over to Vaan who waited in the dock. The fetid heat in the crowded hall was causing him to sweat and Balthier was glad he had decided to forego a vest today and instead wore a fawn coloured plain waistcoat that could be unfastened over his white shirt.

'Good day to you Captain,'

He greeted Vaan cheerfully in slightly louder tones than strictly warranted, around him he heard the shuffling of bodies and the shifting of cloth as certain members of the audience woke themselves up, having fallen asleep in the heat.

' Would you be so kind as to explain to the good people gathered here today a little more about the politics of sky piracy?'

Balthier longed to take his gloves off as he flexed his fingers and leaned nonchalantly against the handrail of the dock.

Ashe now knew about his disfigurement and had been sufficiently guilty and grateful last night for his sacrifice onboard Bahamut that he now felt marginally better about the whole thing, but his vanity was not so easily abated.

'Umm, what about sky piracy, exactly?' Vaan asked a little lost.

Balthier stifled a sigh, the downside of Vaan's masterly and nuanced performance as a fool was that it never ended. He was a fool all day, every day.

'Tell me Captain, you have explained that there is a complex initiation process that any would-be sky pirate must undertake to join the ignoble fraternity of pirates, is there also, perhaps, a hierarchy in existence among sky pirates?'

'Oh, yeah.' Vaan nodded vigorously.

' Marvellous.' Balthier plucked his damp sleeves from his arms and hid his distaste at the feel of the damp cloth.

'Please would you be so kind as to inform this court of my placement within said hierarchy?'

Vaan blinked confused and clearly wondering why Balthier would want everybody to know a secret that other pirates would kill to keep from general knowledge.

' Umm, you're one of the Pirate Lords.'

A ripple of excitement ran through the wilting audience and there was a general shifting of backsides on wooden benches as the great and the not so good of Dalmasca and beyond sat up and took note.

' Hmmm, indeed.'

Balthier caught sight of Fran whose empathic look told him that he had better know what he was doing here because she would have nothing to do with it once Rikken and the other Pirate Lords found out about this massive breach in pirate protocol.

Thankfully Balthier rather thought he did know what he was doing and simply winked at her cheekily before turning back to Vaan.

Much like Vaan had two years ago, the land locked and wide-eyed poor of this city had a great and abounding love of all things pirate, Balthier intended to play up to that macabre and insatiable hunger for nefarious deeds.

'And what does this illustrious title mean, within the hallowed ranks of sea-dogs and sky-curs that make up the ranks of the pirate court?'

He enquired dryly, as the common folk in the galleries leaned dangerously over the sides of the balconies to hear every salacious detail.

'It means you help to run things. If there's a pirate that's broken contract or robbed another pirate you or one of the other Pirate Lords help sort it out.' Vaan supplied helpfully.

Balthier nodded leaning his back against the dock and stretching his arms out across the hand rail in a deliberately nonchalant recline.

' A crude but accurate summation, thank you Captain.' Balthier let his gaze drift up over the serried rows of galleries, thick with all the races of Ivalice united by an abiding love of scandal and gossip.

' Tell me Captain,' Balthier continued in conversational tones,

' Does it seem likely, in your opinion, that a Pirate Lord, a sky pirate charged with the commission of seeing that other pirates behave themselves with at least a semblance of dignity, could make such an amateurish mistake as to create so poor a forgery as the one I am accused of?'

Veniliss launched himself up from his chair, 'Objection your Majesty, the Defendant is attempting to lead the Witness to make a declaration on the Defendant's guilt or innocence that the Witness is not able to make.'

'Nonsense sir,' Balthier spoke up before Ashe could draw breath, he could not help but notice that Ashe was wilting fast, sitting on her throne, under the heavy weight of her fine clothes and heavy crown.

' I am merely asking the informed opinion of the witness regards…'

' Chief Justice Veniliss, Master Balthier.' Ashe interrupted him, 'you will both step up to the dais.'

Chief Justice Veniliss bowed and Balthier joined him in the act, adding his own flourish to the gesture and rising up to see Ashe's lips twist in an irritated smile, which she quickly suppressed for proprieties sake.

'Sir Veniliss, Master Balthier, I think perhaps you have both finished with the Witness now and should _move on_ to the next.' Her Majesty informed them both with cool, but definite command, her cheeks pink and breathing rapid.

Balthier was delighted to notice that she had unfastened against the heat, the first latch on her bodice at the square neckline, which revealed a lovely display of décolletage; he wrenched his gaze up to her face with difficulty.

'As you wish your majesty; I have no further questions.' He purred.

Veniliss looked between he and Ashe and for a moment something like dawning suspicion widened the little man's eyes, then he quickly controlled the reaction.

Balthier hid a frown as he made his way back to his table and licked his dry lips. All fun and games aside it could bode ill if the Chief Justice began to suspect the trial was rigged.

Balthier knew Ashe well enough to know that if push came to shove, he would be the one getting the shove, should her throne look to be in jeopardy.

Veniliss stood to attention and in loud, clear voice, called his next witness for the prosecution.

'I call to the stand Mr. Hubert Tamberlio, of High Bizarre Terrace, Rabanastre.'

For a moment Balthier had no idea who this was and then he saw the balding, overweight middle aged man wearing the ill-fitting britches and frock coat in the Archadian style waddle up to the dock.

_Oh him, _Balthier thought contemptuously. It was the mark. The avaricious fool Balthier had swindled out of ten thousand Gil for the faulty Licence for an Ultima Blade.

The Licence that Balthier had known was out-dated and had been planning to scrap until the greedy Dalmascan had approached him and Balthier had spied an easy way to make a few thousand Gil.

Despite the fact that it was not really the rotund Dalmascan's fault that the swindle had turned sour, Balthier decided to blame him for it in any case. He smiled slyly as the frightened man was sworn in and took his place in the dock.

The gambit he had decided to employ to defend himself against the eye-witness testimony of this man, which Veniliss surely thought was air-tight, was risky certainly. Foolhardy and doomed to failure, even, for anyone except the leading man, that is.

Nevertheless, Balthier was going to need to employ all his charm to pull off this verbal sleight of hand, if he managed to discredit the testimony of the man who could actually prove his guilt, he would be free to roam the skies aboard his beloved airship by nightfall.

Veniliss walked confidently over to the dock, casting a remarkably smug look towards Balthier, which caused the pirate to raise an eyebrow in surprise.

The over-zealous public servant seemed to have made this sham trial a personal crusade against Balthier, though he could not fathom why. As far as he knew they had never met before and he certainly didn't think he had ever robbed the man in times passed.

' Mr Tamberlio, please could you explain for the benefit of the jury how it is you came to be in possession of a counterfeit Licence certificate for an Ultima Blade, which you then attempted to use to legitimise your purchase of said item in Rabanastre's bazaar?'

With the jerky movements of the guilty and untrustworthy the sweaty man flailed his ham-fisted hand and pointed a fat finger straight towards Balthier, as he lounged with elegant indolence in his chair.

'He sold it to me!' The Witness exclaimed and the hall erupted into titters and whispers, more excited than appalled.

'I would like it noted by the scribes that the Witness has positively identified the Defendant as the man who sold him the forged Licence certificate.' Veniliss all but crowed.

Seated on her throne high on her dais Ashe shifted slightly, trying to smooth out the stiff, shimmering greenish-black material of her skirts. There was a slight frown on her face, as she gestured for one of her ever-attendant servants to bring her a glass of water.

'Mr Tamberlio, can you tell me where you attained this Licence from the Defendant and how you came to wish to purchase illegal goods in the first place.'

'I –' The man licked his lips furtively and his next words were so quiet Balthier could not hear him and the audience in the galleries certainly couldn't.

'Mr Tamberlio you must speak up.' Veniliss said and the desperate wretch perspiring in the dock all but quaked with embarrassment.

' I couldn't pass the competency test for a Licence.'

He muttered and the hall began tittering once more with laughter, competency tests were barely more complicated than being able to tell a blade from a Chocobo, the mind boggled that the man could fail the test repeatedly.

'That damned Moogle Licenser has it in for me!' Mr Tamberlio retorted angrily and the hall descended into ruptures of laughter at the pompous man's expense.

Balthier smiled contentedly and relaxed in his chair. The Witness was doing a better job of discrediting himself in the eyes of the audience than Balthier could ever do.

In the end Ashe had to rise from her throne and call the court to order, her own ladies-in-waiting struggling to smother their giggles.

'Mr Tamberlio, please could you explain me how you came to purchase the counterfeit Licence from the Defendant.' Veniliss instructed the Witness failing to see the humour of the situation.

' My brother knew a man, who knew a man, who knew Old Dalan.'

Mr Tamberlio explained and Balthier almost rolled his eyes. Old Dalan? Well that was even better, he had very little real business with that ancient relic of criminal intent. It would be relatively easy to cast doubt on this vague association.

' Old Dalan said that if I wanted a Licence quick I should go to Nalbina and ask for a man called Balthier who sometimes travelled the Highwaste with a Viera.'

Balthier resisted shaking his head or looking towards Fran, still as a statue in the shadows to his far right.

Fran was in many ways the best thing to ever happen to him in his life, she was also ironically his most damning piece of circumstantial evidence pinning him to any crime scene. Viera, through no fault of their own, tended to stand out in a crowd.

'Indeed.'

Veniliss looked swiftly to his Queen at the veiled mention of Fran and Balthier caught Ashe's minute shake of her head, warning her Chief Justice from pursuing that angle. Veniliss frowned slightly but continued unperturbed.

' And so I and the Jury can assume you made a visit to Nalbina in search of the Defendant?'

' Three times, he weren't there the first two.' Mr Tamberlio nodded.

' I see and on the third occasion how was it that you were able to positively identify the Defendant, had you met before?'

' No, Old Dalan said to look out for the dandy toff with the fancy clothes acting like he owned the place in the Tower Tavern.'

Again the hall erupted in laughter and Balthier shook his head in rueful amusement, catching Ashe fighting a losing battle not to laugh out loud herself as Penelo almost doubled over in giggles next to the throne.

' And after you had located the Defendant how did you progress to the point where he sold you the Licence?' Veniliss continued once the general mirth had subsided.

Mr Tamberlio frowned. 'I told him Old Dalan sent me and I wanted a Licence, he asked me if I thought he looked like a Moogle and pointed out the Licenser's stall outside.'

Balthier remembered that particular exchange. He had been nursing a pint and plotting his next venture, Fran having retired for the night unusually early, when the pompous and over-bearing fool had barged over to him, very loudly demanding items of an illegal nature.

'And yet you were able to attain the Licence from the Defendant were you not?'

Mr Tamberlio nodded slowly, a furtive expression on his face, ' Not then, I had to wait until morning, I caught up to him when he was waiting for someone out by the opening to the Highwaste.'

Balthier also remembered that, he was waiting for Fran who had in turn gone in search of Nono, who was gods only knew where doing gods only knew what, when the man had accosted him again, refusing to go away.

'He charged me ten thousand Gil for the Licence.' Mr Tamberlio declared angrily. 'And as a businessman myself I didn't think much of his customer service.'

Balthier shook his head as their pretty little trial turned into a delightful farce, the audience treated to some high entertainment indeed.

Veniliss, sensing that there was little more of value he could extract from the Witness and wanting to wash his hands of the whole thing it seemed, turned to the throne with a tired bow.

'I have no further questions for the Witness, Your Majesty.'

Ashe, leaning one elbow against the arm of her throne, lethargically batting her fan about in her other hand, roused herself slightly and nodded.

'Your Witness, Master Balthier.' She said and only he heard the dry note of amusement in her cool, commanding tones.

Balthier peeled himself out of his chair, the stifling heat filling the hall now carrying the rank and ripe scent of sweat like a miasma in the air; he bowed to her majesty and walked over to the Witness.

He would have his work cut out for him, waking this crowd up, already he could feel a yawn trying to escape his jaws and he had to work not to show his lethargy in his movements.

He strolled up to Mr Tamberlio, while flapping the open sides of his waistcoat, trying to get a breath of air in this swelter.

' A dandy toff with fancy clothes acting like he owns the place?' Balthier quoted back at him, lips curving into a smile which he turned on the audience, 'Well _that_ doesn't sound very much like me.'

The galleries rumbled with guffaws of laughter and he thought he heard one wag in the darkest reaches of the public galleries shout out something along the lines of:

'Got you bang to rights, pal.' To the sound of more laughter.

Veniliss rose to his feet in a rush of officious irritation, ' Objection Your Highness, the Defendant is merely pandering to..'

Ashe raised a hand and frowned at Balthier, ' Get to your point, Master Balthier.'

He dropped into a deep bow, hiding his grin; he had already made his point. He had the crowd behind him.

' Of course Your Highness.'

He turned to the Witness, ' Mr Tamberlio, we have no past association, do we? Aside from an alleged business transaction in the Tower Tavern, Nalbina.'

Mr Tamberlio paused and then shock his head, ' Never met you before that time in Nalbina.' He agreed cautiously.

' Hmm, and you were given my name third, or would that be fourth, hand by a less than reputable source, am I correct?'

' Hey! My brother is very respectable, he runs the fish mongers on….' Mr Tamberlio decried.

Balthier resisted rolling his eyes and with elaborate patience clarified his statement over further ripples of sniggering from the cheap seats. ' I am _referring _to Old Dalan, Mr Tamberlio.'

Mr Tamberlio shrugged, 'My Pa always said you have to talk to a thief to find a thief.'

Balthier gritted his teeth and smiled through it; behind him he thought he heard Chief Justice Veniliss unconvincingly try to stifle rather dry, wheezing snickers of laughter.

' Quite.' Balthier drawled, ' And did your _Pa_ also mention that one should not trust the word of a thief, especially in regards to other thieves?'

Balthier stalked away from the dock and cast his gaze over the galleries.

'You were told that a man going by the name of Balthier with a penchant for fine tailoring and of refined character would have the means to aid you in your illegal endeavour to purchase the sword you desired. Correct?'

' He told me you could help, yes.' Mr Tamberlio stated stolidly.

Blathier pivoted dramatically and gracefully on his heel.

'Ah, but that is where you are mistaken. You were in fact given my name, but the description is hardly what one could consider definitive. I am, contrary to the evidence of the moment, not the only man in Ivalice with a sense of style and who minds never to drop his 'H's' when he speaks, sir.'

Mr Tamberlio opened his mouth, but Balthier was not going to let the stupid, dull witted man spoil this gambit and quickly spoke over him, turning to the gathered rabble and opening his arms wide.

'Ladies and Gentleman of Dalmasca, I have been nothing but forthcoming in regards my former wrong doing as both smuggler and Pirate Lord. I now put it to you, that a man of my reputation is often the victim of base imitators, those lowly criminals with not enough native wit to make a living for themselves and would trade upon my name to make a pretty Gil.'

Balthier sauntered over to the Dock once more, the audience sufficiently stirred and following his movements intently with their many eyes.

' Mr Tamberlio, I ask you, had I been dressed as a labourer, or if perhaps I started to tawk t'yer like a right common scally-wag from the lowest sodding dumps in Old Archades, in that pub in Nalb'na…..'

Balthier switched effortlessly into a fair imitation of the language of the Archadian Vulgar's and let his perfect posture collapse and his shoulders slope unbecomingly.

'….would yer 'ave thought me this Balthier chap, I'm wondering?'

The hall was filled with a mixture of murmurs and chuckles at his impromptu little performance and the little seed of doubt regards the veracity of his identification by the Witness started to grow.

' Ladies and Gentleman, Your Royal Highness Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca.' Balthier first addressed the citizens of Dalmasca and then looked directly up at Ashe returning to his more natural voice and state of being.

' I am known throughout Ivalice as the pirate who helped a queen regain her throne, and alas, as a rarefied toff with a fancy for white shirts.'

He paused dutifully for the obligatory laughter, watching Ashe's eyes as she realised the nature of his gambit, they widened almost imperceptibly.

' Your Majesty, it would be a stunningly simple thing for a forger of some petty skill, who had seen me in passing along the Highwaste, to impersonate me in the presence of Mr Tamberlio, who by his own admission has no first hand knowledge of me in person.'

Balthier saw the spark of excitement in Ashe's clear, cloud grey eyes as she saw the potential for the win in the game he had artfully played throughout the trial. He could not deny his infamy and so he had found a way for his notoriety to save him.

_It weren't me guv, tis all a case of mistaken identity t'was. _

He thought ironically, lips twitching into a grin. He had spent years creating and perfecting the character of Balthier Sky Pirate, it was not entirely inconceivable that someone else might imitate his act.

It was all a matter of plausible deniability, that and the drama of the thing. He thought that Ashe understood this as well as he did.

'Objection Your Highness,' Veniliss' voice interrupted the shared moment between Balthier and his Queen and both he and Ashe turned irritable frowns towards the little man.

Veniliss blinked owlishly but stood his ground, 'The Defendant is supposed to be cross examining the Witness, instead he seems to have moved onto his closing statements, does the gentleman wish to rest his case, perchance?'

Balthier felt his smile slide across his face, sly and unperturbed by the snide tone to the Chief Justice's words.

'I assure you sir, I have most assuredly not closed my case. You will know when I am ready to make my closing summation.'

He purred, flicking his gaze towards Ashe who averted her gaze mildly, but not before he saw her slight smile.

'Be that as it may, Master Balthier, may one assume you have no further questions for the Witness?'

'Indeed, Your Highness.' He bowed slightly, hiding his smirk.

' Then I believe it is time for the Defendant to call his Witness for the Defence, is it not Chief Justice Veniliss?'

Veniliss looked exceedingly unhappy, but there was nothing he could do, the law was on Balthier's side and there was nothing the weedy bureaucrat could do against the summons.

'As you say, Your Highness.'

Balthier smirked, supremely confident that the game was his to win.

' The Defence calls Her Royal Highness Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca to the stand.'

He declared boldly and Ashe rose from her throne as the hall erupted into a tremendous whirlwind of audible excitement.


	12. Chapter 12

**The Grand Hall; Palace of Rabanastre**

'The Defence calls Her Royal Highness, Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca to the stand.'

The Pirate cried with a theatrical flourish and Ashe rose from her throne and moved across the hall to take her place in the dock.

It was marginally cooler in the dock, a slight draught reaching her back from the shadowed cloisters behind her.

The entire hall was aghast that the sovereign of Dalmasca could be called by a self-confessed pirate to his defence.

It was necessary for her Chief Justice to explain to her people that it was perfectly legal by the statutes of Dalmasca's law codes; this did little to prevent the excitable whispers but did add some legitimacy to Balthier's characteristically bold actions.

Ashe smoothed her sweaty hands on her skirts, the action hidden by the low wall of the dock and stood to attention, back straight and head held high.

She was tired, over-heated and feeling somewhat slow witted. The heat was intolerable and the funk of body odour from so many people pressed together in this enclosed space reminded her, unpleasantly, of some of the less reputable places she had visited while on a quest to liberate her kingdom.

When all her people had been relocated out of Lowtown and Nabradia had been restored, dependent on their being any Gil left over, she would have to have this hall ventilated, Ashe decidedly resolutely.

It took some time for the hall to fall into tense and expectant silence and in that time Ashe watched Balthier. She was grateful to see he was suffering from the heat as much as she was, plucking at his loose sleeves and flapping the sides of his tan coloured, remarkably plain, waistcoat.

'There will be order in the court.'

Veniliss was finally forced to raise his voice over the insidious wave of whispers that surged the length and breadth of the grand hall, his booming command finally quelled the worst of the chattering.

Ashe felt a single trail of sweat crawl down her scalp from the hairline weighted down by her circlet crown, which escaped down her neck. She longed to take off the heavy crown and scratch her itching scalp but couldn't.

' Your Majesty.'

Ashe thought it was the heat that gave Balthier's voice a subdued solemnity more than any sense of reverence.

He stood before the dock and this close Ashe could see the circles under his eyes and watched as his fingers twitched in his gloves. She had the feeling they were both longing for this to be over.

She nodded to him in regal acknowledgement and waited for him to lay his cards on the table.

She saw him cut a sharp glance over her left shoulder into the shadows and knew he was having one of those peculiar silent conversations with Fran that had so vexed and fascinated her when they had all travelled together.

Balthier latched his gloved fingers around the handrail of the dock and rocked back on his heels slightly, a faint frown puckering his brow.

The hall was so silent that Ashe fancied it would be possible to hear a pin drop, all eyes and ears strained to hear what the pirate would say and do next.

'Let's talk about trust.' Balthier finally said; that dragging tiredness still in his voice.

For all his flamboyant confidence in discrediting Tamberlio he acted as though he thought his case was lost already, when surely he knew he was winning despite all the evidence against him.

'In his opening statement the honourable Chief Justice claimed that my crime was not selling or manufacturing counterfeit Licences, though he would no doubt see me punished for that alleged offence, as well.'

Balthier shot an unfriendly look towards the Chief Justice who hovered anxiously between his desk and the dock.

'But, instead, I am accused of abusing a bond of trust formed between ourselves during your exile, this crime he claims is a far greater offence than any tangible crime I may stand accused of.'

Balthier turned slightly jaded eyes to the galleries, Ashe had noted throughout his virtuoso performance of these two days passed, that he favoured the people in the galleries with his attentions over the wealthier Dalmascan's who claimed the pews.

'Though it pains me to say this, I agree with the _honourable_ Chief Justice Veniliss, betraying the trust of a friend is one of the greatest crimes a man can be accused of, betraying a friend who is also a Queen, well, I should think that completely inexcusable.'

Ashe fought the confused frown that threatened to take up residence upon her brow. Was he apologising? Was this an admission of guilt?

'If I was truly guilty of such a crime, then I should find myself unable to offer any defence for myself.' Balthier continued, his expression abstracted, Ashe suspected his mind was already racing ahead of him.

A roguish smile blossomed upon his lips, 'Tell me, Your Highness, do you feel betrayed?'

Ashe tensed in the dock, fingers biting into the heavy folds of her skirts, as her mind scrambled to piece together a response.

He had ambushed her, flinging the question towards her with all the languid distain one might use to discuss the weather, yet he surely he knew what a loaded question it was.

To say no would be to invalidate this entire trial, if she said yes she would be, essentially, passing judgement on him instantly, again invalidating the trial and ruining all the hard work she had gone through to engineer this elaborate game.

Ashe could hear the roar of her heart, loud and thunderous as she stared, stricken, into his brown eyes, shuttered, enigmatic and unknowable. Panic clawed at her throat as it seemed the attentions of the jury bore down on her like a physical weight, crushing her under the force of their expectant curiosity.

'Objection.'

Veniliss' deep baritone voice jolted her out of her mute panic and Ashe blinked as her Chief Justice turned hard, contemptuous eyes upon Balthier.

'Do not think to play upon Her Majesty's charity and kindness to manipulate the will of Dalmasca and her sovereign to pardon you, pirate. You risk being held in contempt of court.'

A strange expression danced over Balthier's face, she recognised it and knew that Balthier's next words would likely be ones she would not like.

'Contempt of court, your Honour?' He purred, his smile curling spitefully over his lips as he looked down and brushed his hands down the white cotton of his shirt.

'Tell me sir, why is that I should feel anything _but_ contempt for this court, hmm?'

Ashe swallowed back her own gasp and dug her finger nails into the flesh of her palms as she curled her hands into tight, bloodless fists. The entire hall inhaled sharply in shock at the dramatic change of atmosphere. What was he doing? Had the heat addled his wits?

Balthier turned a look of pure belligerence towards the pews, the galleries and the two friends who stood by Ashe's vacated throne as he stood casually at ease looking for all Ivalice like a proud and disinterested Bandercouerl or silver lobo, watching vermin scuttle through the long grass of the Steppes.

It was as if, Ashe found herself thinking, she had caged a wild animal who had, abruptly, decided he no longer wished to accept his captivity and would now bare tooth and claw against his captors. Ashe's heart thumped erratically in her chest, a complex muddle of desire and panic lodged under her breast bone.

'I stand accused of what is, essentially, a misdemeanour crime, but am held accountable for an act tantamount to treason, that of breaking a bond of trust with a queen. I am to be tried by a jury not of my peers, for a crime that does not exist in any statute of law, but by the population of a country not my own.'

Balthier prowled towards Veniliss, though lean and agile in build and lacking the musculature of Basch or even Vaan, Balthier was still an imposing presence and he dwarfed the Chief Justice in height and stature as he came level with the other man.

'I have respected this court, whose authority to try me I could have questioned long hence, for one reason and one reason alone; because I respect the Queen. Therefore _sir,_ I do not see the merit of your objection and will uphold my question.'

Balthier turned on his heel in one beautiful pivot, the same movement she had seen him use in battle, swinging his gun to aim upon all manner of foes. He looked at Ashe and his brown eyes were still as unreadable as ever. She could not tell if hatred or humour lurked in their depths.

' Your Highness, I ask again, do you feel betrayed?'

' Yes.'

Ashe was surprised to hear her own answer. Her voice strong and firm as it carried, effortlessly, towards the farthest reaches of the furthest gallery.

As the hall shifted and rippled like the ocean waves, murmurs of dismay and titillation undulating through the pews and galleries, Ashe only had eyes for him.

She watched a purely predatory smile spread across his handsome, somewhat sharp featured face and knew she had fallen foul of an artful trap the design and purpose of which she knew not.

'Yes, what, Your Highness?' He purred; cocking his head to the side in the manner of the Ose they had battled in the Great Crystal, a look of pure calculation, pondering the best way to make the kill.

Ashe felt her back straighten with the steel of her will; she had faced down worse foes than he and feared him not. She did not need the itching weight of the crown upon her head to know her power.

'Yes, you have betrayed me.' She told him coldly.

He betrayed her now, he betrayed her with every word and deed and every soft moment, when the cynicism left his eyes, and he pulled her into his arms and almost, almost told her what his eyes hinted at, that he loved her.

He betrayed her because his love took from her and gave back nothing but uncertainty. He gave her no promises or reassurances and yet she could not, would not, let him go.

Balthier had returned to the dock and curled his gloved hands over the rail where she too gripped the wood as a lifeline. Their hands lined up along the hand rail as he leaned towards her, committing an unforgivable act of impropriety that was almost a hanging offence, he asked her, mildly:

'How have I betrayed you, Your Highness?'

Her answer was readily available and came from the shadows of her soul where she had known the answer all along though she would not acknowledge it.

'You betray me as you betray yourself, Sir _Bunansa_.' She whispered, too low for anyone aside from him to hear.

He recoiled from the dock, as if she had struck him, eyes for a moment wild and shaken to his much shielded core. Then she watched him swallow down a moment of pure panic and paste on a smile.

'Your Highness, you must speak up, your people cannot hear you.' His voice was poison honey sweetness dripping over razor blades.

'I said, Master Balthier, that you have betrayed me in so far as you have betrayed yourself.'

She declared regally, the upper hand hers as she saw the lingering fear that she would expose him for his true self, dance behind his eyes. She watched him back away, almost unconsciously, from the dock as she rose to her full height inside the little wooden box.

'When first meeting you sir, within the passages of the Garamsthye waterway I had thought you a man of little scruples and certainly no native honour. I did indeed, in my desperation to free my kingdom, offer you the greatest of my country's treasures, though loathe I was to do so for a sky pirate and a thief, who thought only of his own profit.'

Ashe continued her voice gaining further strength and resonance as she turned to face her people who watched with nary a sound, the air thick with expectancy.

'That you took, as you so lyrically put it, not one pretty coin nor shiny trinket, demonstrated to me that you were not the base individual you claimed to be. Honour lurked inside you, sir, though you were loathe to concede to its dictates within you.'

Balthier drew breath for speech but she denied him as she had seen him do to the other witnesses, she would not sit idly by while he played with her, this was not his game, nor ever had it been. This lesson she was about to teach him.

She ruled here and this game was hers.

'You saved Rabanastre when you diverted the course of the falling Bahamut and in doing so cemented in my eyes the truth of your good character. The betrayal I speak of is your actions hence. You betrayed the good in you in favour of the base and betrayed a trust I granted in that good man by pandering to your vice.'

She declared, she turned then and seizing her own moment for theatrics she left the dock without permission, but then she was queen here, whose authority was greater than hers?

As the people packing the hall rose to their feet half in response to traditional dictates to rise when their sovereign did, and half in excitement and a desire not to miss what happened next, Ashe walked calmly and in controlled fashion towards the Defendant, who looked less than pleased with this turn in events.

'I speak not as a Queen when I speak of betrayal, had you wanted gold from my treasury I would have granted what I could for my Kingdom's sake, but you asked for nothing from my Kingdom, and so instead I speak as one who thought to call you friend and ally, when I say, yes, good sir, I am betrayed.'

Silence reigned on the tail of her statement and then quickly, like the whisper of a breeze through long grass, the hiss of sand grains sliding through fingers, the murmurs began as the Defendant stood motionless and suddenly mute against her allegations.

Ashe bit down hard on her inside lip and tasted the sweet copper of blood, she almost wished to recant her words, except that for all that she wanted to see him exonerated and accepted by her populace she did not want to see him pardoned completely.

She was no fool, to grant him his freedom was to watch him fly away again, therefore what she sought and had sought from the moment she captured him, was a means to legitimise keeping him in Rabanastre.

_A means to_ keep him_ with her ever more. _

She watched him marshal his wits, turning, slightly on his heel to maintain eye contact as Ashe paced around him.

'Indeed, Your Highness, then may I request that if you would accuse me as a friend and not a monarch that I address you as a friend and not a Queen?'

Ashe nodded, 'You may, sir.'

She knew that to even the most ignorant and dull-witted of observers the display she and Balthier put on now could not be viewed as purely that of Monarch and fallen ally.

It seemed to Ashe that invisible chains of electrified energy ran from the two of them as they circled each other, as if tracing the steps of some ancient, solemn dance.

Balthier licked his lips as he watched her warily, yet his voice was calm, smooth and carefully modulated to please their rapt audience.

'Then I protest against the assumption that I have betrayed myself, and that even had I failed my better nature as you claim, that that failure has any bearing upon you. You speak as if you have claim upon my life, yet I do not see how that would be so.'

In the periphery of her vision Ashe was aware of the look of worried anxiety on Vaan's face as he watched intently. Penelo, always sensitive to the tensions of others, gripped her friends arm tightly, eyes wide.

'Perhaps you are right sir,' Ashe had expected such a rebuff from Balthier, a man who had made a creed out of running from the expectations of others, and was prepared for it, letting it faze her not a jot.

'Perhaps it was presumption on my part to hope, in the spirit of friendship and comradeship forged in the most trying of times, for some better life to find you then the one you have made for yourself.'

In the eyes of her detractors Ashe knew that her performance simply fed fuel to their nay-saying, yet she cared little.

They could accuse her of illicit conduct with pirates, of wilful lack of haste in finding a husband, a lack of mind to the traditions of the past, if they wished. A Queen could only be cowed by the truth if she was afraid of it and Ashe was tired of being afraid of the possibility of failure.

She would try and if she failed let them challenge her then, she had lost everything once already and she had ascended her throne despite it all.

All the while she and Balthier paced a tight circle around and around each other, neither following nor leading the other, a synchronicity to their steps even though they failed to find a similar synchronicity of desire.

'Indeed? Why did you presume that I need or want a life better than the one I have, pray tell?'

Balthier's retort perfectly encapsulated the fundamental difference between them. To him freedom to roam was all, while to Ashe such freedom without purpose spoke only of a bankruptcy of the soul.

Their slow circling had taken them around in full circuit; Ashe could see the frozen, horrified and fascinated visage of her Chief Justice no longer able to run this circus, brimful of objection that could not be spoken.

This was not a criminal trial anymore, though it be a trial of a different sort, a contest of wills, between her and him; the Pirate and the Princess, as was, playing a game of one-up-man-ship that was never supposed to offer a decisive victory to either party.

But Ashe was tired of frustrated triumphs that offered more loss than gain, so she would make this the last game. Here now one of them would be the victor and one would be forced to concede, though even Ashe knew not what the spoils of the final victory would be.

She decided it was time to lay her cards, face up, upon the table as it were; she would not hide behind her bluff any longer. Let all her people see and let them hear and let them decry it if they will, for the Queen would have her cake and eat it.

'Every man deserves something of permanence to call their own, Master Balthier, the chance to leave mark indelible upon this land and know that their lineage continues even once they pass to other plains. The life of a pirate offers only a short drop and sudden stop. As your _friend_ I would have given you better than that.'

Though she spoke in the language of high artifice she saw his eyes widen, understanding dawning as he realised that she played this game not for brief nights spent in hiding, fearing being caught by prying eyes, but for a greater commitment.

'Highness,' Balthier breathed, aghast and too stunned to hide it, the mask dropping and real fear lighting his eyes, though whether for her or himself remained to be seen.

'You look too well upon me; this devotion to my betterment is not in your interests.' He tried to forestall her.

She knew he had no interest in her throne or in acquiring one of his own and as Ashe had no will to share her throne this suited quite well.

Who else but the man who threw down title and lineage that rival that of a lesser king, to safeguard his good conscience, could she trust to support her rule?

'Do I, good sir? Or is it merely that you do not reach for the heights you could attain?'

A Queen must choose a mate through political expedience not personal preference, Ashe knew this well and had followed that dictate once, much to her hearts misfortune.

'I am a Sky Pirate, your majesty; I have no fear of heights, only of finding myself too high beyond my station without a parachute to save me when I am cast down.'

Balthier spoke in jest, but his eyes were deadly serious. They spoke emphatically to her to fold, to forfeit the game and bow down to the will of nebulous forces she could not command.

'And yet you thought nothing of aiding an ousted monarch in a battle against an ascendant Empire? Your words do not ring true, Master Balthier. I think you do yourself an injustice.'

'True, Your Highness, but as you no doubt recall, I took quite a fall within the flaming wreckage of Bahamut because of that vaulting arrogance, if nothing else I have learnt a little caution.'

Around and around they paced each other, around and around Ashe's thoughts circled just as they had on the ascent to the Sun-Cryst as she battled against the dictates of higher forces and her own will to cut a path anew.

'An interesting argument, good sir, for it could be countered that you reached your highest point aboard the Bahamut and have fallen ever since.'

Her father, King Raminas, had ruled by consensus and the dictates of tradition and been universally loved by his courtiers, yet that had not saved him. Ashe herself had been everything a dutiful Princess should be, mild, sweet and obedient to father and husband and that had won her nothing but loss and heartache.

She would look no longer to tradition and the ways of the past for her succour, but to her own will.

'Then I have ascended to my heights and fallen short and it is only natural therefore that I should fall.'

Balthier argued, more against her stirring ambitions to see the weave of tradition fundamentally altered than the delicate words they bandied to and fro.

'For the genuine love and good will I have for you, Highness, I would not wish to see my inevitable fall in anyway affect you. If I have betrayed you, let me be gone from your realm and your mind and leave Dalmasca unblighted by my lack of grace.'

Ashe became aware, slowly as one who wakes from a dream to the sounds of bird song in the morning that the entire hall was alive with excitement.

Dalmascan's whispered in awe at what sounded like a genuine admission of guilt and regret from the outrageously unrepentant Defendant as well as the unmistakable timbre of honesty that echoed to the tune of the word 'love'.

In the wake of the extraordinary confrontation between their sovereign and this flamboyant, entertainingly roguish pirate, the sonorous murmurs from the galleries, the true citizens of Dalmasca to whom rank and birthright meant little, coalesced into a single desire, expressed in many forms: _clemency, pardon, forgiveness. _

Buoyed up by the will of her people behind her, Ashe stopped moving around and around in futile circles, calling a halt to their dance and extended her hand, speaking for all and also only to him.

'Dalmasca remembers her friends and would not turn a cold eye from them in their time of need. You had cause once to call on Dalmasca's gratitude after Bahamut and did not. Once more she offers her hand to you, will you reject the hand of clemency as you did the hand of gratitude?'

Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca had done much for her Kingdom and would give more still in the years to come, but no longer did she believe that duty and honour alone were enough to sustain her in her task.

Let her detractors talk if it pleased them, she had faced down would-be gods and monsters for her throne and she would face down the malice of her conceited councillors with clear conscience.

The only thing that mattered was the next few moments as every pair of eyes in the grand hall watched and waited for the Pirate to make his move.

She held her hand aloft and still, refusing to allow the tremor that ran through her fingers to show as she waited for the Pirate to make his decision.

She knew that this was not the outcome of the game he may have chosen, that he may well silently seethe at her for this manipulation, the loss of his empty, purposeless freedom. If he did then let him turn from her hand and face his fate as he would have it, a fugitive ever more.

No one breathed in the grand hall as seconds dragged with the longevity of hours and the heat pressed down upon their heads with the intensity of the eyes of the gods. Moments lingered and slowly, falling away with a dead and limp heaviness, Ashe's hand fell.

The pirate caught her hand in his gloved palm at almost the last moment, and his fingers did shake visibly, as he slowly and with utmost sincerity dropped to his knees and laid a properly reverent kiss upon her signet ring.

'Well played Princess, I have been soundly beaten at my own game, bravo.'

He whispered as the grand hall almost imploded in the sudden vacuum caused by seven hundred people all inhaling at once and then, in deafening crescendo the hall erupted into wild and exuberant cheers.

Though few people knew precisely what they cheered for all knew that in some way a great battle had been fought and won this day and once more, their queen had been the victor.

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_A/N Well...that was not exactly the way I thought this would go, but as I say this story has a life of its own. Is it finished? I honestly don't know. Any feedback is gratefully received as always. _


	13. Chapter 13

**Epilogue: The Fortress at Nalbina, Balthier's suite**

_A/N I heard a call for an epilogue, so voila. Enjoy and thank you everyone who read and reviewed - your comments have been wonderful and I really appreciate all the feedback!_

* * *

Fran entered the suite through the narrow window while Balthier was lying flat out on the bed on his back, arms spread-eagled, shirt untucked, waistcoat unfastened and hair in a state of severe dishevelment, staring dazedly up at the ceiling unable to fathom, nor force from his thoughts, the events of scant few hours prior. 

He turned his head and watched Fran slip first one long leg in through the window, then her head and torso and finally the other leg.

'Fran, glad to see you haven't lost your flair for the stealthy entrance.'

He drawled, rather amazed he was capable of sensible speech as his mind continued to spin in a nosedive towards encroaching panic.

' You are in trouble.' Fran told him without preamble.

'Really, I had not realised.' He replied with the blandness of rapidly approaching shock.

Fran shook her head, 'You have created a fine trap by your actions this day.' She scolded.

Balthier scowled, ' None of this was my doing. _She_ trapped _me_!'

She gave him a level look as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, ' I do not speak of Ashe, her wiles you made yourself a slave to long ago, though you saw it not.'

Balthier felt his scowl deepen, 'I have no idea what you mean.' He responded sharply.

Fran almost smiled, though it was certainly no matter to smile over, 'As you say, Balthier.'

He sat up in one smooth movement and ran his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it and failing.

He did not know what to do. Ashe had blind-sided him completely and he could not fathom what she had in mind for him now, having granted him clemency but nevertheless not seeing fit to grant him his freedom.

Fran sighed to attract his scattered attention and shook her head vigorously to sweep her hair from her face.

'You are in trouble Balthier, more than you know.' She repeated.

He frowned, mind moving sluggishly and he kept falling back on the terrifying events of today's court session, unable to move beyond them.

'If you refer to the Balfonheim pirates Fran then need I remind you that each one of the other Pirate Lords owes me Gil?'

The retribution of the other pirates in regards his disclosure of certain facets of the politics of piracy was the only 'trouble', other than the immediate concern of how to extricate himself from whatever Ashe had planned, that he could conceive of.

Balthier had weighed up the potential pro's and cons of revealing the inner workings of sky pirate society to the great and the not-so-good of Dalmasca and decided that any ramifications from his unauthorised disclosure could be dealt with at later date, the immediate benefits, he had thought, out-weighed the long term complications.

'I do not refer to the other pirates.' Fran replied coolly.

His frown again deepened, until he thought his face would be permanently scored by harsh lines, 'Oh?'

Fran cocked her head, ' You did not see him then, the Queen had you so ensnared did she?'

It was Balthier's turn to give his partner a dark look, sitting forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he stripped off his leather gloves from his hot and sweaty hands.

'Saw whom?' He asked succinctly, ignoring Fran's sly assertion.

' Basch.'

'Oh, him,' Balthier felt himself relax, for a moment there he had been concerned.

'Yes I saw him sneaking about the Hall; I had thought he was simply curious regarding the trial.'

Though under the circumstances he had barely paid the Judge Impostor any mind, worried as he was with the vaulting and insane ambitions of a Queen, who, though it terrified him to suggest the possibility even in his own mind, seemed intent on making a sky pirate her Consort.

' Curious, indeed. You have been too brash Balthier.' Fran chided him.

He scowled; it had been years since she had used that tone with him and he appreciated it now no more than he had then.

'How so?' He asked keenly, rubbing at his face.

It had been a long and fraught few days and while he could not say he hadn't enjoyed parts of them, primarily the nocturnal activities he and Ashe had engaged in, he was now thoroughly exhausted and did not feel himself quite able to deal with whatever bad tidings Fran was intent on imparting to him.

' Archadia wishes your extradition.'

Balthier had been scratching an itch to his left instep, having first kicked off his shoe; he looked up at his best friend sharply at her words.

'What?'

Fran cocked her head to the side, large, rounded pinkish eyes filled with a distant sardonic humour that he usually appreciated as evidence of their kindred souls, but now found himself considerably less enamoured of.

' Basch has come to open negotiations with Ashe regards your immediate extradition to Archades.'

Balthier swallowed, growing pale. 'Yes, that's what I thought you said.'

His mind tried to process this new information but his thoughts ran aground on the rocky shore of shock, confusion and mental fatigue from days of defending himself against his crimes and manufacturing a plausible defence for the reprehensible.

'There is no extradition treaty between Archadia and Dalmasca, surely?' He asked weakly as Fran settled herself beside him on the edge of the bed.

'As I had thought also, yet one exists now, signed by the Queen and Lord Larsa.'

'Bloody hell.'

He launched himself up from the foot of the bed and began to pace, despite the fatigue in his limbs.

' Why would Ashe do something so foolish?'

'As I understand it the treaty allowed many Archadian's guilty of war crimes to be returned to face justice in the country whose citizenry they mistreated.'

For a moment all Balthier could do was stare mutely at Fran. How? How did his life end up becoming so interminably complicated? All he had ever set out to do was to be the greatest sky pirate and gentleman criminal Ivalice had ever known.

He sat down brokenly on the edge of the bed next to Fran again and closed his eyes, letting his head drop into his hands.

' Dare I ask what the charges are against me this time?' He mumbled.

'There are too many to count, you have already loudly and repeatedly proclaimed your infamy to the people of Dalmasca. You have opened yourself up to such an ambush as this.'

He turned his head, still cradled in his hands to glower at his partner. 'What does Larsa have against me? Or bloody Basch, turned Judge Magister Gabranth, for that matter?'

'This action is not motivated by spite or vengeance Balthier.'

Balthier opened his mouth to demand an explanation of what other reason the Emperor and his favourite lap-dog could have for trying to extradite him when the heavy wood door of his rooms slammed back against the wall and a very angry Dalmascan monarch barrelled into the room.

' What have you done now, you damned pirate!'

Ashe rocked to a halt when she realised belatedly that he was not alone and for a moment she looked almost embarrassed, then she drew herself up regally and nodded cordially to Fran.

'Fran it is good to see you.'

Fran nodded politely, ' Your Highness.' She demurred impassively.

Pleasantries dealt with Ashe turned a withering look to Balthier, ' Archades wishes to extradite you.'

'So I have heard.'

Balthier said tiredly. Falling sky fortresses, airship dogfights, battles with megalomaniacal emperors he could deal with, and with his customary aplomb, but this was all getting a little too much. His life had become an epic farce.

Perhaps affected by his current inability to fight back effectively Ashe flopped down on the edge of the bed to his other side, nudging him with her hip to make more room for her. He ended up wedged between his Queen and Fran. The irony did not go unnoticed by him.

'You did not plan this?' Ashe asked him curiously, he turned to stare at her in complete disbelief.

'In the name of all the gods, Ashe, why would I plan _this?' _

Ashe studied him thoughtfully, 'I had thought it might be an elaborate ruse to enable you to fly away and not return.'

For a moment Balthier was struck speechless, completely unable to come up with a coherent response to this.

Now was hardly the time to be thinking on romance. He was about to be extradited to stand trial in Archades – and Archades citizens were not going to so easily fooled by a bit of flash and dazzle as the citizenry of Rabanastre evidently were.

' Even I have my limits, Highness.' He replied icily when he could say anything at all.

On his other side he heard Fran sniff in amusement, 'Indeed? I had begun to wonder.'

He turned to Fran, 'That is not helpful, Fran.'

He said through his teeth, his partner remained unperturbed.

' Basch is being strangely unforthcoming.' Ashe said carefully and he turned back to face her.

'He is unwilling to divulge the exact nature of the offence you will be charged with, or a date for your trial.'

'Trial? Hardly.' He scoffed mood fading beyond dark towards deadly.

'A rough awakening at dawn and a quick escort to the waiting firing-squad is closer to the mark, your majesty.' He sneered.

' It is a ruse.'

Fran said and both he and Ashe turned to face her, Ashe having to lean far forward to see Fran across Balthier's body.

' To what ends?'

He asked, the possibilities didn't bear thinking about and his almost feverishly over-worked brain delighted in throwing up any number of disturbing scenarios for him to stew over.

'The Lord Larsa is a target for assassination among the disaffected within the Empire, unhappy with his reforms.' Fran intoned dispassionately.

'Indeed.' Ashe nodded in agreement.

'There have been six foiled attempts in these two years, mostly from former members of the Imperial army unhappy with Larsa's de-militarisation policy.'

Fran nodded gravely picking up the narrative and demonstrating an understanding of the politics of Archades that he did not think she had before Basch snuck into the trial with furtive stealth earlier today.

' There is discontent among the gentry as well, they do not like the new taxation on their land holdings to raise funds for the restoration of Old Archades.'

' Yes, yes, no-one likes a do-gooder, what does this have to do with me?'

Balthier interjected impatiently. Both Ashe and Fran frowned at his insensitivity, Ashe emphasising her displeasure with an elbow to his ribs.

'Basch cannot be everywhere at once. The very walls of the capital echo with plots.' Fran stated enigmatically.

Balthier could feel his patience, which was never in great supply, ebbing rapidly. It was well known the little Lord Larsa was doomed. Idealists did not last long in Archades.

The fact that Larsa's greatest defender was Basch Fon Ronsenberg, a man whose track record in protecting his royal charges was hardly exemplary, did not help the boy's chances for reaching fifteen in the least.

Fran locked gazes with Balthier and he steeled himself for what she had to say next, it would be bad, he just did not know how bad.

'It was hoped by his Lordship that you would return to Archades, once news of our survival after Bahamut's fall reached his ears.'

' It was?' Balthier was for a moment astounded. ' Why for?'

Fran shrugged elegantly, 'Larsa had hoped for your support among the Archades gentry, Basch had thought to use your contacts within the world of crime to help protect Lord Larsa.'

Balthier scoffed disdainfully, 'A fool's errand if ever there was one.' He muttered, unkindly.

Fran quirked an eyebrow; 'A pirate's errand to be more accurate.'

'What?' Balthier and Ashe cried out simultaneously, equally outraged.

Fran shrugged again, unconcerned. 'Where reason and enticement cannot move you, Basch will use other means to protect his charge.'

'That's duress!'

Balthier declared, amazed the honourable, laudable Basch Fon Ronsenberg would stoop so low. It was frankly amazing the corrupting influence two years in Archades walking in a dead man's armour had had on the man's moral calibre.

Ashe for her part appeared struck dumb by the deviousness of her former protector. He turned to her in annoyance.

'Do something.' He demanded.

'Me? What can I do?' She asked dazedly.

Balthier resisted the sudden and inexplicable desire to shake her rather hard. _What could she do? _She had no trouble entrapping him and orchestrating the events that had allowed such a fate as this to befall him, why now was she suddenly lacking the deviousness to help him escape?

' You're the bloody Queen, refuse the extradition.' He demanded exasperated.

'I can't.' She snapped back, angered by his tone.

'You are an Archadian citizen Balthier and you are probably guilty of whatever crime they have accused you of.'

'I haven't committed any crimes in Archades since Larsa's coronation.' He snapped back, affronted.

' For all the damned good it has done me.' He muttered more to himself than her.

' Sadly there is no statute of limitation on piracy, _Pirate_.' Ashe snarled at him.

He glared at her incensed almost beyond reason, as they faced each other, noses almost touching sitting as they were side by side on the bed, breathing heavily and equally furious with the other and with twisted fate that conspired to make their lives so gods damned complicated.

' If you send me to Archades you will be signing my death warrant, your Highness.'

Balthier hissed through his teeth, temper flaring wildly as he struggled to maintain his air of unruffled nonchalance and failed abysmally.

'Do not be so melodramatic Balthier. Perhaps you _should_ help safe guard the life of the best and kindest Emperor Archades has ever known.' Ashe instructed him condescendingly.

'Ashe, nothing short of divine intervention will save Larsa Solidor.' He shot back fighting for composure and failing once more, the leading man had had enough.

The sound of Fran pointedly clearing her throat dragged him away from his heated glowering contest with Ashe.

'I have offered my support to Larsa's cause.' She said calmly as if her words were not tantamount to altruistic suicide.

'Fran?' He could not believe his ears. She had betrayed him utterly.

Balthier would happily refuse Basch's get out of gaol free offer and take his chances with the noose, as a less lethal alternative, but he could never allow Fran to wilfully throw her life away without him.

They were partners, if she was going to do something so bloody stupid, he had to as well.

'This is very poor sport Fran, siding with your lover over your partner. I would never do such to you.'

He felt Ashe twitch noticeably on his other side and winced realising how his words would be interpreted by the other significant female in his life. Fran raised one fine arched brow eloquently and Balthier finally conceded defeat.

He knew better than to argue with Fran when she gave him _that _look. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before turning to face Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca.

'Well I hope you are happy Ashe, if you had not had me arrested this would never have happened.'

He said in light tones because he was fighting not to yell and a leading man should never, ever, yell.

Ashe almost fell off the bed she reared back so hard. 'How dare you! If you had not created that counterfeit Licence in the first place there would have been no crime to answer for.'

Balthier felt his smirk fall into place, 'I think you'll find, your Highness, that your own citizens have all but absolved me of any guilt or responsibility for that crime.' He replied smugly.

Ashe's response was a stinging slap across the cheek, which caused him to cut his inner lip on his teeth.

'Bastard pirate, I hope your fellow backstabbing Imperials _do_ kill you!'

She snarled at him before launching herself with impressive regal fury from the room. The slamming of the door caused Fran to flinch and reach for her sensitive ears.

Balthier sighed deeply, 'Well I'm prepared to concede that could have gone better.'

He turned to look at Fran who shook her head slowly in something akin to amazement.

'Your manner with Hume women never fails to astound me, Balthier.'

'Yes, I know.'

He said tiredly dragging himself to his feet and surveying his soon to be former lodgings in preparation for packing for their return to Archades.

'It's something of a gift.' He retorted sardonically.

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_A/N: Tee-hee, sequel anyone :)_


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