Rasler and Ashe are so perfect together. I couldn't help but start this story, only to give my own thoughts on what their relationship could have been before their marriage. They seemed to genuinely love each other, which makes their story all the more tragic, but, here goes nothin'.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rasler or Ashe or a lot of other stuff that go with FFXII 'cause I don't own that either.
"Dream Away"
A lot of people think that to be a Princess must mean to be rebellious. To fall in love with a rogue and run away to be with him, happily and forever. Meanwhile the ugly, pompous Prince is left behind. I'd like to state right now that I am not a stereotypical Princess.
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"Please be patient Your Highness," Neora scolded as I tapped my foot impatiently.
"How can I be, I'm meeting my future husband. I want to meet him and get it over with," I said, folding my arms across my chest. I was a testy sixteen year old; rebellious as all teenagers are. It wasn't so much the dressing and pampering, or meeting my fiancée that bothered me. It was having to follow my father's biding. I wasn't a child. But as my surrogate mother, Neora always reminded me that I was in my father's house, and as his daughter I was to obey him till I was married.
"Come now Princess, you look so lovely," my maid said affectionately. I sighed and gave myself a once over in the mirror. I didn't look so bad. A plain blue sundress and comfortable black leather soft shoes. Neora always knew what I liked. We walked down the hall to my father's throne room. I was beginning to get nervous. Thoughts rushed through my head.
'What if he' ugly?'
'What if he thinks I was ugly?'
'What if I trip?'
The doors opened; I swallowed.
"Ah, here she is," I heard my father say as the glare from the sun blinded me. I shielded my eyes and stepped forward. Blinking, I cleared my eyes, and looked around. My father sat on his throne, looking so worn with wisdom and age. My two last remaining brothers stood by him, each looking so knightly and watching me with their cruel, older brotherly smiles. The oldest winked and I rolled my eyes. At last, my view settled on the last person in the room. He was almost in a corner, hard to see. He stepped forward. I couldn't believe my eyes.
"Ashelia, I would like you to meet your husband-to-be, Prince Rasler Heios Nabradia," my father said. The boy in front of me bowed.
"It is an honor to make your acquaintance Princess," he said. Coming closer, he took my hand and kissed it. I was almost glad I had been taught manners so well and harshly. My body moved in the correct way all it's own as my brain completely faltered. The Prince was gorgeous. He was short, only a few inches taller than myself. He was thin, but built. He obviously had training with a sword by the feel of his calloused hands and powerful, yet gentle grip. He had the cutest face; still boyish, but mature at the same time. His eyes were a soft green-gray, and they sparkled like the sea. I was captivated. These next few years would be bright.
