Author's note: A little fic that just popped into my head after reading the many humorous stories on the site.
The Next Morning
"Do you remember anything gentlemen?"
There was a groan in reply to the jailer's question. From a heap on the floor there followed more groans and moans of hung over agony. From a crumpled mess on the only bed in the cell, there was a whine and deep mumbling. Eventually there was movement from these dishevelled men. They swayed and jerked, no doubt their heads pounding from dehydration, into a seated position. One couldn't maintain that position and flopped back down on the floor, moaning at the pain of impact with the cold stone.
"I take it that you had quite a night last night." said the jailer, not able to take the smirk off his face at the men's condition. "Can you recall anything?"
There was a loud foggy belch from the tall bulky man still swaying from side to side on the bed. His face was covered by greasy and tattered locks, but the frown on his broad features as he tried to remember only made the jailer's mirth increase.
"There was drink." came a voice from the floor. "A lot. That's all I can remember."
"There might even have been alcohol." said his companion, letting out another belch. It sounded worse, there was choking and the jailer thought he was going to be sick. But the man clutched at his stomach and swallowed again and again. "There definitely was alcohol."
"Where are we?" said the heap on the floor, his head lifting up as much as it could. The dark stubble on his young face was covered with dirt and saliva drooled from the corner of his mouth.
"You are in the cells, my friend. We had to pull the both of you in, because you were causing a scene. Quite a big one actually. A lot of people were offended. You just have to sober up a bit before we process you."
"Can you speak quietly, please?" asked the older of the two men. His hand was clutching against his face and his whole body was now swaying in a circular motion. "Quiet. Softly."
"Don't you know what you did?"
"I don't know who I am…."
"You gave a name of Mr Randy Knightly and you called your friend here a one Mr Dick Head. Amusing obviously, but false all the same. Gentlemen, you could be charged seriously for what you did. Not to mention the fact you gave false names to the arresting officers."
"We were arrested?" The man on the floor struggled to get onto his hands and knees. The result producing an 'Oh god' to groan from his lips. "Where are we?"
"In the city cells. As I said before, you are also in a lot of trouble."
"That sounds nice."
These men had no clue whatsoever. They stank and reeked of alcohol, their clothes (the one on the bed had only a pair of white boxers and a thin shirt of mail on, the man on the floor was topless and wore black trousers and boots.) were covered in dirt and no doubt stained with spilt booze and drink.
"This is not "nice", people." said the jailer. "You were drunk and disorderly…"
"NEVER!" The man on the floor bolted up right, his youthful face baring a proud and almost snobbish glare. He squinted and puffed up his chest as much as he could and then flicked vainly at his brown ruffled and sweat soaked hair. "I maybe drunk, but I am never dish-orderly! I have a reputation to uphold!"
"Oh you gentlemen were disorderly. Do you want to know what you are going to be charged with?"
There was another thump as the younger of the two drunks fell back down into a crumpled position on the floor.
"Nothing as bad as what I've been charged with in the past." moaned the man on the bed. "I get blamed for just about anything…."
The jailer sighed. This was not going to be an easy shift.
"Very well. You are going to be charged with D&D, as well as indecent exposure and urinating in a public space. Along with the illegal sword fights in the streets you will also be charged with the destruction of a city tavern, namely the Sandsea, and the defacement of some of the palace walls. That last one the most serious as it attains to some rather….personal information about her Majesty Asheila. Though I doubt it's true."
"Oh shit." The tall blonde leaned forward and buried his face in his hands.
"What did we write?" asked the brunette, smiling with a lopsided drunken grin.
"I'm not going to say." said the jailor.
"Oh shit." murmured the blonde.
"Remembering something Mr Knightly?"
He remembered vague and patchy images. He remembered the early evening, the six of them gathering together in the palace for a heartily reunion. There was drink, pleasant conversing before the inebriation took over. A private moment, lapse in judgement and a waking feeling of dread and shame. The accusing, the betting and challenge of manhood, followed by aggressive testosterone displays…he had acted with dishonour.
The sickening vomit was threatening to spurt once more from his lips, the searing and hazing headache was getting worse. His partner was not faring any better. He was lying on his back, flickering eyes peering at the ceiling of the cell. He was very pale and looked as if he too was going to vomit. This was one reason why he never drank, though his so-called "friend" acted as if this was done on a regular basis.
"I will come back later, when you've had time to sober up a bit more." said the jailor. "Then you will be charged."
The groaning replies from the hung over men made the guard smile once more. What these men did was obviously part of some kind of contest, each of them trying to prove themselves to be the better man, yet they had failed miserably due to the immense amount of alcohol consumed. An act too often tried by the many men of Rabanastre, though few had succeeded in humiliating themselves as these two. The jailor had no idea who they really were, but any man who totally messed up as these, had to be someone important.
He turned to leave, when the door to the cell block opened. His Captain walked in, followed by three very angry looking women. There was a tall striking Viera and one of the two Humes, was none other than Queen Asheila herself. The Jailor immediately bowed his head in respect for the sovereign.
He noted that all of the women, didn't exactly look their best. Fatigue showed in their faces, as well as signs of alcohol intoxication, though not nearly as bad as the men in the cells. The Viera was frowning harshly at the crumpled mess on the floor of the cell, her arms folded across her chest and anger scrunching up her beautiful features. The other hume was quite young, but she stood at the Viera's side. She was scanning the cell, but she couldn't find what she was so desperately searching for. The Queen stood away, further back, dread and guilt flushing along with the remains of alcohol on her cheeks. She wouldn't step any closer to the cell, but those angry and furious eyes fixated on the blonde man sitting on the bed.
"Majesty. I had no idea you would…."
"The men are to be released." said his Captain. "Her majesty has decided to punish these men herself and I don't doubt that Queen Asheila will be harsh in her ruling."
The jailor nodded and took the keys from his belt. He opened up the cell door and stepped back. Neither the women or the men made a move. The men unable, the women not wanting to.
"Shall we give you some privacy, majesty?" the Captain asked the Queen. Ashe shook her head.
"No. This will be fine."
Her eyes met the blurred gaze of Basch Fon Ronsenberg.
"I hope you are pleased with yourself." she said with a stern tone.
Both the men replied with a painful moan. The topless Sky pirate belched and then curled up into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest.
"Pitiful." said Fran. "Though to be expected from him."
"But not you…" Ashe starred at Basch. "NEVER from you! Get up. Both of you. We're taking you back to the palace…where you are going to start to undo your damage! If such a thing can be done."
It took twenty minutes for the two men to get to their feet. They were unstable in such a position, their feet, in a desperate attempt to keep them still, did the opposite. Basch and Balthier moved from one side of the cell to the other, neither of them managing to get through the rather large open door. That was until Fran pulled her partner out. Her small nose wrinkled in disgust.
Balthier grinned and shrugged his shoulders heavily.
"All part of the charm my dear!" he breathed. The stench of his exhale disgusted Fran even more, who then dragged him right out of the cell block.
Ashe stood opposite the swaying Knight and the Jailor noted that along with her anger, there was a disappointment in her eyes. Guilt and such bitter disappointment. Basch, so full of shame, couldn't bare it.
"Don't." Ashe managed to walk right up to him. She took hold of his hands and whispered softly in his ear. "It happened. But…if you EVER pull a stunt like this again…I swear I will make you suffer! Do you understand?"
"Yes….Highness. I don't ask for forgiveness…I don't deserve…"
"No. You don't deserve anything. But I'm letting you off just this once. With the exception of the fact that you owe me a new bed."
The Queen of Dalmasca turned around and then stormed right out of the cell block. Basch was left stunned and pained, hung over and sick, with the Captain and Jailor glaring at him inquisitively. He hoped they didn't hear what Ashe had said.
But they weren't the only ones left. Penelo replaced Ashe, the young teen furious beyond what he thought capable for her, right in his face.
"Okay!" she snapped loudly. "Where the hell is he?!!!!"
"VAAN! Where is the little shit?!!"
Vaan? Basch had completely forgotten about him. What had happened to the young sky pirate in training?
"Erm…anyone? Help? Can someone get me down? Get me clothes?"
No one did. All the people passing by the central fountain just laughed and pointed. After all, it wasn't every day that people could see an eighteen year old naked boy bound and strapped to the fountain in the middle of Dalmasca's main city.
Vaan felt so humiliated. He swore that he would take his revenge on the pirate and the knight. Their stupid manly contest last night was Vaan's undoing. But he would pay them back. Just wait until the city guards saw what he scrawled on the palace walls.