![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sarasa_cat posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
no_true_pairTitle: Mapping the Truth
Author/Artist: sarasa_cat
Fandom: FFXII OGC
Pairing/characters: Basch/Penelo, (Balthier, Ashe, Noah)
Words: 1150
Rating: Teen/PG-14
Warnings: Contains a large end-of-game spoiler.
Prompt/challenge you're answering: For prompt "Can Penelo convince Basch that they are fated for more than just a fling?"
Locks of familiar hair lay discarded on the floor. Penelo steps back. She pockets her scissors, and examines how Basch's closely cropped hair changes his appearance.
In silence, she watches Basch strip until nothing more than slick film of sweat clothes his skin. His brother Noah lays unconscious, unaware of their matching nudity, both men identical except for the mismatched map of scars crisscrossing their skin. Penelo forces herself to look away from Noah, but the man's exposed flesh appears so out of place that he has become a magnetic field pulling at Penelo's eyes. Finally, she places herself between Noah and the pile of armor and undergarments heaped on the floor by Basch's bare feet, turning so Noah remains outside her view.
Penelo had seen Basch naked countless times, often enough at first, then as daily as any other routine. The sight of Basch undressed has long lost the power to titillate her, just as his name no longer invokes the aura of the commonfolk's adviser to their king. In Penelo's year with Basch, the military general has become her beloved friend and comrade. She quickly found herself trusting him, trusting him fully, trusting him with her life.
No matter what she heard others say behind Basch's back -- accusations of single-minded madness, smug stand-offishness, being coldly distant, checked out, detached -- Penelo knew none of them took time to understand him. They failed to see the vision driving him, failed to notice the wounds that stayed his hand. Despite his career as a soldier, war made Basch weary. 'No glory can be found on the battlefield,' he told her. 'Honor is found only in returning home.' Penelo understood him. She always has. She could see the weight of responsibility hunching his shoulders, the emasculation of power clenching his jaw. All she wanted was for him to feel whole.
She fancied herself as his angel of hope, calling down storms of fiery arrows on those who sought him harm. She drew mist stored within her body to cast protective shells over his skin. She washed poisons from his wounds, disease from his heart. She made sure Basch slept soundly, offering to watch his back whiling whispering promises of safety, assurances of warmth. Whenever he appeared pensive, she was always quick to shower him with affection. They took to sharing each of their meager meals. Basch modified armor so it fit her frame properly. He selected weapons for her, best suited to her size.
From the start of all the taunting, Penelo made a point to ignore each and every time Balthier called her The Captain's Shadow. Ffamran's carcass rotted inside Balthier, leaving his heart weak, and haunting him with a gutless ghost. Penelo knew Balthier would abandon Ashe and he had, just as Penelo predicted. Alone, the princess now sat in the cockpit of the Strahl, silently crying.
Despite Basch's many disagreements with Ashe, Penelo knew Basch would never abandon them. That wasn't in his nature. Penelo knew this because she could name the place from where Basch drew his strength. During their nights of luxurious comfort in Balfonheim, Penelo found the courage to share her flesh with him. At first, Basch stared at her in astonishment, and then he shed his clothing in such a clumsy fit of fury, Penelo had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Yet, once Basch's hands were on her, his movements controlled the tick of the clock. Each kiss swallowed seconds, moans lengthened minutes, the slow press of him inside her halted time. Once all his weight was on top of her, Penelo's prior memories of having sex revealed themselves as hurried, shamed blurs. She forced herself to forget her past, and with all of her armor stripped away, she begged Basch to think of her as his home.
Their nights in Balfonheim made Penelo certain Basch would return to Rabanastre, her on his arm, yet they rarely spoke of it. They did not need to. Such matters were as obvious as the eastern rising sun, the midday heat at noon. One day at lunch in a pub, Penelo told Basch about the grand townhouse in Rabanastre's north end that her parents once owned. She believed they could both get it back once Ashe became their queen and the Archadians left. Once all of that happened, Basch would stand by Ashe's side, providing her counsel, managing her guard. Penelo was quick to add that Rabanastre's north end neighbors the palace's grounds, and that Basch would always be able to see his home. Basch teased her, tapping on the end of her nose with a small carrot before popping it into his mouth. Surely, he said, she would take charge of Royal Order of Chemists and Healers. Indeed, all of that made perfect sense in Penelo's mind. It still does.
Basch attempts to dress himself as his brother, but Noah's armor fails to fit Basch's body correctly. Basch lacks Noah's muscled breadth across his shoulders and chest, yet Basch's calves are much thicker from all of their walking.
"You're coming back to Rabanastre once Larsa is made Emperor, right?"
Basch doesn't look up at her. Using the point of his dagger, he punches new holes in leather tongues that need to be buckled tighter.
"Ashe is really going to need your help," she says.
"And I will do what I can."
"Your time in Archadia will only to be a temporary thing. It won't be long before your brother is better, and then everything will go back to the way it is supposed to be."
Behind her, Noah's breath rasps with each slow inhalation. Penelo had given him all of her strongest potions, but he still could not stand. Before Penelo eased Noah to sleep with a spell, he could hardly sit up without help. Surely, all of the fibers around his spine had been badly bruised and were now swollen. He needed rest. He needed time.
"Basch, don't worry. I'll look after Noah and make sure he gets better fast."
"I trust him in the hands of no other."
"Once when he gets better, you can come home."
She expects Basch to agree. Instead, he frowns. Yet, after she waits a moment longer, Basch stoops forward and Penelo thinks he will kiss her. His gloved fingers brush against her cheek. "Take good care of him. See that he remains comfortable."
"You know I will."
Basch searches through storage bins, until he finds a sheet. He covers his brother's body. Leaning forward, he whispers private words in Noah's ear. Penelo moves away, letting Basch have a final moment of privacy.
When Basch is done, Penelo thinks to run forward and kiss him before he leaves, but Noah's magisterial helm covers Basch's face before she reaches him.
Without a word, Basch strides from the Strahl, his hand squeezing Penelo's shoulder as he leaves.
Author/Artist: sarasa_cat
Fandom: FFXII OGC
Pairing/characters: Basch/Penelo, (Balthier, Ashe, Noah)
Words: 1150
Rating: Teen/PG-14
Warnings: Contains a large end-of-game spoiler.
Prompt/challenge you're answering: For prompt "Can Penelo convince Basch that they are fated for more than just a fling?"
Locks of familiar hair lay discarded on the floor. Penelo steps back. She pockets her scissors, and examines how Basch's closely cropped hair changes his appearance.
In silence, she watches Basch strip until nothing more than slick film of sweat clothes his skin. His brother Noah lays unconscious, unaware of their matching nudity, both men identical except for the mismatched map of scars crisscrossing their skin. Penelo forces herself to look away from Noah, but the man's exposed flesh appears so out of place that he has become a magnetic field pulling at Penelo's eyes. Finally, she places herself between Noah and the pile of armor and undergarments heaped on the floor by Basch's bare feet, turning so Noah remains outside her view.
Penelo had seen Basch naked countless times, often enough at first, then as daily as any other routine. The sight of Basch undressed has long lost the power to titillate her, just as his name no longer invokes the aura of the commonfolk's adviser to their king. In Penelo's year with Basch, the military general has become her beloved friend and comrade. She quickly found herself trusting him, trusting him fully, trusting him with her life.
No matter what she heard others say behind Basch's back -- accusations of single-minded madness, smug stand-offishness, being coldly distant, checked out, detached -- Penelo knew none of them took time to understand him. They failed to see the vision driving him, failed to notice the wounds that stayed his hand. Despite his career as a soldier, war made Basch weary. 'No glory can be found on the battlefield,' he told her. 'Honor is found only in returning home.' Penelo understood him. She always has. She could see the weight of responsibility hunching his shoulders, the emasculation of power clenching his jaw. All she wanted was for him to feel whole.
She fancied herself as his angel of hope, calling down storms of fiery arrows on those who sought him harm. She drew mist stored within her body to cast protective shells over his skin. She washed poisons from his wounds, disease from his heart. She made sure Basch slept soundly, offering to watch his back whiling whispering promises of safety, assurances of warmth. Whenever he appeared pensive, she was always quick to shower him with affection. They took to sharing each of their meager meals. Basch modified armor so it fit her frame properly. He selected weapons for her, best suited to her size.
From the start of all the taunting, Penelo made a point to ignore each and every time Balthier called her The Captain's Shadow. Ffamran's carcass rotted inside Balthier, leaving his heart weak, and haunting him with a gutless ghost. Penelo knew Balthier would abandon Ashe and he had, just as Penelo predicted. Alone, the princess now sat in the cockpit of the Strahl, silently crying.
Despite Basch's many disagreements with Ashe, Penelo knew Basch would never abandon them. That wasn't in his nature. Penelo knew this because she could name the place from where Basch drew his strength. During their nights of luxurious comfort in Balfonheim, Penelo found the courage to share her flesh with him. At first, Basch stared at her in astonishment, and then he shed his clothing in such a clumsy fit of fury, Penelo had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Yet, once Basch's hands were on her, his movements controlled the tick of the clock. Each kiss swallowed seconds, moans lengthened minutes, the slow press of him inside her halted time. Once all his weight was on top of her, Penelo's prior memories of having sex revealed themselves as hurried, shamed blurs. She forced herself to forget her past, and with all of her armor stripped away, she begged Basch to think of her as his home.
Their nights in Balfonheim made Penelo certain Basch would return to Rabanastre, her on his arm, yet they rarely spoke of it. They did not need to. Such matters were as obvious as the eastern rising sun, the midday heat at noon. One day at lunch in a pub, Penelo told Basch about the grand townhouse in Rabanastre's north end that her parents once owned. She believed they could both get it back once Ashe became their queen and the Archadians left. Once all of that happened, Basch would stand by Ashe's side, providing her counsel, managing her guard. Penelo was quick to add that Rabanastre's north end neighbors the palace's grounds, and that Basch would always be able to see his home. Basch teased her, tapping on the end of her nose with a small carrot before popping it into his mouth. Surely, he said, she would take charge of Royal Order of Chemists and Healers. Indeed, all of that made perfect sense in Penelo's mind. It still does.
Basch attempts to dress himself as his brother, but Noah's armor fails to fit Basch's body correctly. Basch lacks Noah's muscled breadth across his shoulders and chest, yet Basch's calves are much thicker from all of their walking.
"You're coming back to Rabanastre once Larsa is made Emperor, right?"
Basch doesn't look up at her. Using the point of his dagger, he punches new holes in leather tongues that need to be buckled tighter.
"Ashe is really going to need your help," she says.
"And I will do what I can."
"Your time in Archadia will only to be a temporary thing. It won't be long before your brother is better, and then everything will go back to the way it is supposed to be."
Behind her, Noah's breath rasps with each slow inhalation. Penelo had given him all of her strongest potions, but he still could not stand. Before Penelo eased Noah to sleep with a spell, he could hardly sit up without help. Surely, all of the fibers around his spine had been badly bruised and were now swollen. He needed rest. He needed time.
"Basch, don't worry. I'll look after Noah and make sure he gets better fast."
"I trust him in the hands of no other."
"Once when he gets better, you can come home."
She expects Basch to agree. Instead, he frowns. Yet, after she waits a moment longer, Basch stoops forward and Penelo thinks he will kiss her. His gloved fingers brush against her cheek. "Take good care of him. See that he remains comfortable."
"You know I will."
Basch searches through storage bins, until he finds a sheet. He covers his brother's body. Leaning forward, he whispers private words in Noah's ear. Penelo moves away, letting Basch have a final moment of privacy.
When Basch is done, Penelo thinks to run forward and kiss him before he leaves, but Noah's magisterial helm covers Basch's face before she reaches him.
Without a word, Basch strides from the Strahl, his hand squeezing Penelo's shoulder as he leaves.