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"Excuse me for just a moment," Basille pushed past Arenvald, Alisaie, out of the shade of the Resistance command tent and after the retreating backs of the other two Scions. His racing footsteps raised clouds of dust, the clatter of scree, and the eyes of every resistance fighter nearby. The Gridanians might call duskwights stony, but these hardened men and women of Gyr Abania looked as if they had been carved from the rock itself. Basille felt like a starling next to them- a little bird-boned creature in flapping robes and a broad-brimmed hat, sandals that surely he'd grow into flapping against his feet, all noise and no weight behind it...
"Master Sheashi!" Both figures ahead paused, then turned: one tall and grey, the other a pop of crimson and gold in the dusty camp. Calvetoix, with Lyse at his elbow like a leech. Not if I have anything to say about it! Basille skidded to a stop under the edge of the arcade- nearly between them- and Master Sheashi stepped back to steady him. Away from Lyse!
Basille pushed his advantage, turning toward Calvetoix as he feigned catching his breath. "I have- I promised I would send- back to the others-" he pulled a folded scrap of parchment out of his wide sleeve and held it up. "Once we were somewhere safe. Is there a postmoogle here to take it?"
With the brim of his hat shading his eyes, it was impossible to see Calvetoix's expression. And he couldn't see Basille's either. "A letter to your kin?"
Basille fought back a grimace. Master Sheashi encouraged him to mend things, but Basille refused to have anything to do with them. "No. To the Doman Adventurers Guild in Mor Dhona. I promised the kids I'd tell them all was well."
"Basille, aren't you the same age as the Doman children," Lyse teased, peeking over his shoulder and under his hat's edge.
"No, I'm closer to the twins' age!" She pulled back at the unexpected force, eyes wide in surprise, and Basille scrabbled to keep his composure. "I don't want to trouble the Alliance or Resistance with a letter, but I could pay a postmoogle! I just can't find one- I can't see them like you can, Master Sheashi…"
"The adventurers will be proud that you remembered them, Basille," Calvetoix replied, amusement in the rumble of his voice. "If you could wait a moment, Lyse…"
But no, she had to circle around and reach for the letter. She wouldn't just let Calvetoix go- that would be too easy. "Are you sure you don't want to do it together? I can see Moogles as well as you, Veda."
No! Basille kept from blurting it- if only because Calvetoix was already shaking his head.
"I've a letter of my own to send, as it happens. We'll meet here in half an hour before leaving for the Peaks?" With Lyse's agreement, he tipped a brief nod to both and set off toward the aetheryte with his swinging, silent stride. The corners eased off Calvetoix's shoulders even as Basille watched, until he finally looked relaxed again. At ease- away from her. Thank the Twelve.
Now Basille could make the real gambit.
"Wait!" Basille darted in front of Lyse as she took a step toward the cookfire, his hands up. "Just wait a moment. I wanted to- I had a question, or two. That's all." He stepped closer, until Lyse was back on her heels and he could stare up at her expression under knotted brows. "Just what are you trying to do to Master Sheashi?"
"I- what?" She blinked those big, blue eyes, as if it would do any good on Basille.
"Dogging his steps around here, volunteering on missions together- giggling!" Basille spat the last, disgusted.
Lyse stepped back away, her hands going up in a shrug. "Basille, what are you talking about?"
"You're flirting!"
"Well, I- yes? I am?" Slowly she straightened, frowning. "Is it too obvious? I mean, I don't want to make him feel pressured, what with people always calling him this way and that as Warrior of Light and everything else-" She fell into gesturing as she went on. "It's only that I didn't dare say anything as Yda. It would be wrong to flirt using her face and lie to him! And so I didn't say anything for months and months until- until the Bloody Banquet. Since then everything has been happening so quickly, and I realized, why keep waiting?" She stilled, looking down at Basille with her brows knit. "Who knows what he'll be doing tomorrow, so I might as well see if he feels… if it's anything like what I feel, you understand?"
"Maybe I do, and maybe you shouldn't!" Basille hissed in response. "The last time someone tried this it didn't go so well- or the time before that, for that matter! He's walking on knives because you won't let him alone!"
"What?" Lyse blinked- and then her expression hardened, as implacable as any of the veteran freedom fighters. She stepped to Basille's side and he twitched back- until she had quite effectively backed him into one of the corners between the Reach's many pillars. "What happened!? I've asked, but getting Veda or Alphi to talk about Ishgard is like milking a stone!" She rolled her neck, then lifted her chin. "So you had better tell me who hurt him, and we can settle the score, aye?"
He had severely underestimated the stakes, Basille realized with a sinking stomach. Lyse might have been the flightiest of the Scions' inner circle, forgetful, reckless, but... He'd forgotten that she'd stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the Archons for years against threats from every side. Stubborn, fiery, irrepressable woman- who now had Basille pinned under her eye.
"Who is it, Basille?"
"They're dead," he blurted. "Both of them. The women who tried… they're not a problem anymore. But they… flirted, like you're doing now. Really pushing hard, with the flattery, and touching him..." Basille shivered. When he had seen her in Ishgard, Iceheart's fingers had always seemed to be resting somewhere on Master Sheashi. And he had let her! Trailing after her touch like it was a leash! Alphinaud might not have seen it, or might have pretended so to keep the peace, but Lord Haurchefant had warned Basille to keep on his guard.
And then the woman in Falcon's Nest with the sweet smile and a drink just for Calvetoix… He'd almost died! "But they ended up using him- hurting him. One… lied, and the other, uh. Poisoned him."
The flash of shock in Lyse's eyes did not bode well for her temper. So Basille grasped at his original goal wildly before she could divert further. "Even if you mean it," which Basille had his doubts about, "I- I'm warning you. He's not going to take it! So just- leave off!"
"Oh, Basille…" Lyse shook her head, hair flying. "I'd no idea! He's changed, hasn't he? But then again, he's still the same Veda I remember… how can it be both?"
Of course he's changed, Basille wanted to shout! The sword, the daggers, the sneaking off on his own! You weren't here, Lyse- or Yda- no, YOU were puttering around with your buddies in the Resistance while WE chased leads on Thancred and Y'shtola and Minfilia and Alisaie and the Warriors of Darkness! NOW you want to bellyache about how Calvetoix's changed while you bat your eyelashes and simper!?
Lyse was avoiding the point. Basille stuck up a finger. "I said-" and with the most venemous glare he could muster, "Leave. Off. This isn't a sappy two-gil romance where if you just try harder he'll give in! And now they've reined him into doing all this-" Basille waved his hands wildly. Lyse leaned back before she took a hit. "He shouldn't have to be on edge about you and the Garleans!"
A shadow loomed over them both. "Everything alright?" Basille froze as he realized how loud his protests had gotten- all his care forgotten sonewhere in the ranting. He pulled his hat low and scrunched into the corner.
"Nothing we Scions can't handle!" Lyse's cheer sounded forced.
"Uh huh. And you, lad?" A peek showed a tall Hellsguard soldier, hands on his hips. The gryphon hood made a shadowed scowl of his face.
"Yeah. We're fine." Basille gestured vaguely at his wand, "I can take care of myself."
"Mm."
Lyse shrugged and took a single step back. "We were just wrapping up, really." She looked, guilty, down at Basille. "I guess… I do lean a little harder that I mean to. I'm sorry, Basille." The way she shook her head sent her ponytail flying. "I'll back off."
Yes! Basille pulled himself to his full height and tried to pin her, the way Master Sheashi and Y'shtola could. Maybe it would have worked better if he was more than five fulms tall. "And not just a little. Promise it."
Solemn, Lyse raised her hand. "Rhalgr as my witness. It'll be all business while we're here, Basille." And quieter, "and thanks for letting me know."
"Aye, well enough." The Roegadyn nodded. "And by the by- anything you all need? I hear you're the ones as'll be helping us, but that goes both ways."
"Actually!" Basille edged past Lyse, out from the corner. "Are we allowed to go up the tunnel behind the command tent? I'm supposed to find earth aether to listen to, and inside the mountain would be perfect."
"Oh, aye," the soldier tilted his head. "I'll walk with ye. Don't know if the guard up there's been told who you lot are yet." He clapped a hearty hand onto Basille's shoulder. "Nothing you need, Yd- Lyse?"
Lyse only nodded. "I'm meeting, uh. A collegue. Here. Soon." A searching glance over the camp, and then she broke into a grin. "And there he comes now!" She lifted onto her toes to wave.
Basille spent a second searching Lyse's wide-eyed expression. The yearning. The eager smile. The way she lifted and leaned in Calvetoix's direction as he approached. Even if she wasn't blatantly flirting, she was too honest.
…blast it. A worthless promise.
Well, fine. For now, all he could do was keep his eyes out. If Master Sheashi was set on being a polite, turn-the-other-cheek city duskwight, then Basille could be the stalker in the depths. He just needed a plan. …If his attunements were complete, Basille could drag Master Sheashi away from her as soon as they got back, for lessons! Stone, water, wind- he could do it right here in the Reach.
Oh, no- Lyse wasn't getting away with tormenting his master so easily.