It had been more than two years since their paths crossed. Basch was occupied with carrying out his promise; as Judge Magister he worked tirelessly for his Lord. Balthier...well, Balthier was a Sky Pirate. His time was his own, and the sky his domain, but rarely did he bring his ship within the Empire’s reach.
Basch was in Dalmasca but rarely, and Balthier even less. The type of encounter the two desired was not easily achieved. Fortunately, both were patient men, and their passion the hotter for it.
So it was that the Strahl docked near Sochen Cave, and the information came to Basch’s ear. He did something a man of his age, reputation, and position would never condone - he played hooky. He left a message for Lord Larsa that urgent business carried him away for a few days. Telling his servants he was not to be disturbed, Basch set his armor aside, and donned traveling clothes. He carried a blade, of course, and some rations, but anything which might identify him was left within the Palace.
His informants had been correct. The Strahl was indeed docked outside the Cave Palace. Basch slipped aboard the ship, hoping to find Balthier inside, and alone. The Strahl was empty. Basch sat in the main cabin of the ship, waiting for the return of one or both of the pirates, praying they would be back within the day. In the late afternoon, tired of watching the timepiece on the wall, Basch slipped into a light doze.
He awoke to the sound of boots scraping the deck behind him. Reaching for his blade, he found the scabbard empty. He leapt from the chair, alert to any danger, but it was Balthier who stood behind him. The tall pirate tapped a naked sword blade against Basch’s rucksack.
“Well, well. I’m pleased to see you, if a little surprised,” he drawled. Setting the sword aside, he rifled through Basch’s bag of provisions. He glanced at Basch, then back into the bag. “The dinner you’ve provided does seem a bit unsatisfying, for the both of us.”
Basch uncurled his fists and stepped close to Balthier, snatching the bag from his hand. Balthier let the bag be taken, then ducked his head and kissed Basch full on the lips.
It was sweet with promise.
Balthier moved away just as Basch’s arms came around his neck. “Ah, ah, ah. Not just yet.”
“Hmph. Kisses are just another thing you always steal.” Basch folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the back of the chair he had slept in.
“I admit, I did steal center stage that time in Lemurés.”
Basch shook his head slowly.
“I am a pirate, after all,” Balthier said with an elegant shrug.
“You do have quite a reputation.” Basch agreed, a smile slowly creeping onto his face.
“I’ve missed that rare smile of yours, fon Ronsenburg.” Taking Basch’s hand, Balthier led the taller man to his cabin. He continued, “Theft is as integral to my person as that disreputable facial scruff is to yours.”
Basch managed ‘dignified offended’ better than any common born man had a right to. “The beard started as a way to make myself look older. I keep it now because it distinguishes me from my brother.”
“Under the Judges’ helmet, what purpose does that small rebellion serve?” Balthier asked, too sharply. “Ashe knows the truth, even if your Lord does not.”
“He knows, and it does not fret him to keep my secret. He knew us both, and Larsa feels he is better protected by kindness than cruelty,” Basch’s tone chided Balthier. “My rebellion also serves to irk you, apparently.”
Balthier chuckled. “Forgive me. This time of reunion is too short to waste in argument.” He slid his arms around Basch, gray-blue eyes looking into brown. “In fact, the time is too short for either of us to be wearing so much clothing.”
“Fran?” Basch asked, as Balthier’s ringed fingers slipped under his tunic.
“We both knew who would be on board when we arrived. She elected to find lodgings in the Cave for the evening.” Balthier smiled. “Now if you’ll forgive me, Judge Magister, I wish to return to my pirate’s duty - the stealing of your virtue.”
Basch raised his scarred eyebrow. “Just my virtue?”
“Well,” Balthier said in a low voice, “Your heart already belongs to me, does it not?”
Basch spoke his affirmative with a kiss that sparked their flame long into the night.
FFXII:Balthier/Basch, "A Pirate's Duty", PG
Basch was in Dalmasca but rarely, and Balthier even less. The type of encounter the two desired was not easily achieved. Fortunately, both were patient men, and their passion the hotter for it.
So it was that the Strahl docked near Sochen Cave, and the information came to Basch’s ear. He did something a man of his age, reputation, and position would never condone - he played hooky. He left a message for Lord Larsa that urgent business carried him away for a few days. Telling his servants he was not to be disturbed, Basch set his armor aside, and donned traveling clothes. He carried a blade, of course, and some rations, but anything which might identify him was left within the Palace.
His informants had been correct. The Strahl was indeed docked outside the Cave Palace. Basch slipped aboard the ship, hoping to find Balthier inside, and alone. The Strahl was empty. Basch sat in the main cabin of the ship, waiting for the return of one or both of the pirates, praying they would be back within the day. In the late afternoon, tired of watching the timepiece on the wall, Basch slipped into a light doze.
He awoke to the sound of boots scraping the deck behind him. Reaching for his blade, he found the scabbard empty. He leapt from the chair, alert to any danger, but it was Balthier who stood behind him. The tall pirate tapped a naked sword blade against Basch’s rucksack.
“Well, well. I’m pleased to see you, if a little surprised,” he drawled. Setting the sword aside, he rifled through Basch’s bag of provisions. He glanced at Basch, then back into the bag. “The dinner you’ve provided does seem a bit unsatisfying, for the both of us.”
Basch uncurled his fists and stepped close to Balthier, snatching the bag from his hand. Balthier let the bag be taken, then ducked his head and kissed Basch full on the lips.
It was sweet with promise.
Balthier moved away just as Basch’s arms came around his neck. “Ah, ah, ah. Not just yet.”
“Hmph. Kisses are just another thing you always steal.” Basch folded his arms over his chest, and leaned against the back of the chair he had slept in.
“I admit, I did steal center stage that time in Lemurés.”
Basch shook his head slowly.
“I am a pirate, after all,” Balthier said with an elegant shrug.
“You do have quite a reputation.” Basch agreed, a smile slowly creeping onto his face.
“I’ve missed that rare smile of yours, fon Ronsenburg.” Taking Basch’s hand, Balthier led the taller man to his cabin. He continued, “Theft is as integral to my person as that disreputable facial scruff is to yours.”
Basch managed ‘dignified offended’ better than any common born man had a right to. “The beard started as a way to make myself look older. I keep it now because it distinguishes me from my brother.”
“Under the Judges’ helmet, what purpose does that small rebellion serve?” Balthier asked, too sharply. “Ashe knows the truth, even if your Lord does not.”
“He knows, and it does not fret him to keep my secret. He knew us both, and Larsa feels he is better protected by kindness than cruelty,” Basch’s tone chided Balthier. “My rebellion also serves to irk you, apparently.”
Balthier chuckled. “Forgive me. This time of reunion is too short to waste in argument.” He slid his arms around Basch, gray-blue eyes looking into brown. “In fact, the time is too short for either of us to be wearing so much clothing.”
“Fran?” Basch asked, as Balthier’s ringed fingers slipped under his tunic.
“We both knew who would be on board when we arrived. She elected to find lodgings in the Cave for the evening.” Balthier smiled. “Now if you’ll forgive me, Judge Magister, I wish to return to my pirate’s duty - the stealing of your virtue.”
Basch raised his scarred eyebrow. “Just my virtue?”
“Well,” Balthier said in a low voice, “Your heart already belongs to me, does it not?”
Basch spoke his affirmative with a kiss that sparked their flame long into the night.