Warnings: Angst, non-explicit sex.
Word Count: 403
Summary: Ashe isn't the only one to see visions, and Basch knows his duty.
Prompt: 20. Final Fantasy XII, Ashe/Rasler/Basch: Interference of the dead - the snapped shaft of an arrow
Had it not already been wrong in every way, this would make it so.
He sat on the bed, propped against pillows and the headboard while his Lady straddled his thighs, kissing him as she did everything else- firmly and with assurance that this was her right.
Basch could not deny her- had tried, failed, and been convinced that it was best to simply accept what he was being given. She could not quite force him, but there were methods of coercion that were less a violation of the body and more of the self. He would not have done this.
Even as he shifted, allowing her to remove his jacket, even as he touched her, kissed her back, wanted her- he would not have done this.
Lord Rasler sat upon his chocobo, turned for a final look at his bride. Basch didn't look back, but glanced at the young lord as he seated himself more firmly in his saddle.
"You love my wife," he murmured.
Basch kept himself from flinching, and wondered how he could possibly have given anything away. Perhaps he lacked the skill to be a mummer, but his poker face was quite good.
"The Princess is loved by all her subjects," he said.
Rasler turned and looked at him until Basch allowed his gaze to be caught.
"That is not what I meant, Captain."
For respect of the departed, for sanity and his own moral judgment, he would not have done this.
Basch helped the Lady out of her armor. Clothing followed, and when she mounted him at last, Basch saw- as he'd expected to.
The pale-haired Lord hovered over his Lady wife's shoulder as she moaned- his gauntleted hands ghosting over arms- lips pursing and pressing against the bend of her shoulder and neck- staring into Basch's eyes all the while.
Basch could see the thin cylinder of wood when she moved. The end had broken- perhaps by Rasler's own hand- an attempt to remove it, or to create less of an impediment as he continued to fight. The Lord's blood seeped from around the shaft, onto his Lady's shoulder- over her collarbone- How did she not feel it...?
Splintered wood grazed the Lady's shoulder, scratching her, and their blood mingled, trailing down, collecting on her breast.
It would fall on him- a mark- evidence of his betrayal. If his Lord and Lady willed it.
Let it be.