Author's Note: Hey guys! This is my first fanfic, so I would be eternally grateful for any suggestions you guys can give me to make my writing better, but please don't be too harsh. Anyway, I hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XII, or any other Final Fantasy for that matter, so please don't sue me. :D

Prologue: An Ideal Match

Rasler… Rasler… Rasler…

Rasler, the only name that rings through Ashe's mind as she sobs wretchedly, curled into a ball of despair in her bed. Rasler, the only word that ever gives her comfort. Rasler, the only image that brings her to her knees with a single envisioning. Well, almost the only…

How could I...

--- 4 years ago ---

Ashe closes the door to her bedchamber, leans against it with her back, and promptly slides to the floor in exhaustion letting out a heavy sigh. "Um, is there anything else you, uh, need, Your Majesty? Would you like some assistance in your bed preparations?" comes a nervous voice from the hall. "I thank you, no. I am quite fine," Ashe replies, still sitting on the floor. "Oh, alright. Goodnight, Your Majesty."

"If you say so…" Ashe utters to herself. "Goodnight," she answers louder, so her attendant can hear. She listens as the oddly tranquil footfalls move away from her bedroom.

When she can no longer hear those calming footsteps, Ashe lets her head limply fall back against the door with a metallic clink. Ah yes, my crown. How could I possibly forget? It certainly is heavy enough… Ashe rises to her feet with a grunt and drudges over to the vanity table in the corner.

The magicks in the lamps flicker to life as she plops down on the velvet cushioned chair. Light dances and glints off of the golden crown around her head and Ashe looks at herself in the mirror and lets out a sigh, augmented by a small whimper. How surreal it is to see her father's adornment resting on her own unworthy head. How ridiculous that it should now belong to her, that she is now the leader of an entire country.

Ashe wearily slips the crown off of her head and places it gingerly on its stand on the vanity table. She slowly rises and changes into her nightclothes. She feels so small lying in that large, cold bed and she is suddenly aware of the aches assaulting her consciousness from all parts of her tired body. It had been a long day of celebrating her coronation and it had taken all of her mental strength to appear joyous. When she awakes in the morning, she will be responsible for the lives of thousands of people.

It is too much for one person to bear, but I must carry on. The people have been through so much. They need a strong leader, and I am the only one they have…

Ashe quickly falls into a troubled sleep, filled with tossing and turning.

--- --- ---

…a boom in the area's cactoid population as of late. They have begun to eat our crops in the field and have attacked merchants bringing much needed medical supplies. Therefore, we beseech Your Majesty to please send…

Ashe allows the letter to fall from her hands and land on her desk. A frown crosses her face as she presses her fingers to her temple, her head throbbing from deep within. Father always said ruling was tedious, but I never could have imagined it would be so much so. These past several months have been hell. No wonder he developed such an affinity for wyrmwine. I could use a glass myself… The opening of her study's massive doors brings her out of her reverie.

An attendant enters with a paper in his hand, which he gives to her across her desk. "A message for Your Highness from the Emperor Al-Cid Margrace of Rozarria, arrived just a few moments ago." Ashe sighs. "I wonder what kind of assistance he could possibly need…" she mutters under her breath. She breaks the wax seal on the back, opens, and begins to review the contents of the letter.

Your Highness, Queen Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca,

As you no doubt already have heard, a month ago, my dear father, may the Gods look on him with favor…

"Excuse me, Your Majesty?"

Ashe's head shoots up from the letter and her eyes rest on the still present attendant. "Yes. What is it?"

"If you have no more need of me, I really should be returning to my duties downstairs, Your Highness…" the attendant replies sheepishly. "Oh. Of course. You are dismissed. Thank you." A sharp pain shoots through her head and Ashe remembers about her liquid relief. "Wait!" she shouts at the attendant right as he opened the doors once more. The attendant turns around immediately. "Could you perhaps send up a glass of wyrmwine?" The attendant bowed. "Of course, Your Majesty, but what kind?" Ashe sighs. "I don't care. Just send… something." The attendant blinks confusedly for a moment before bowing and closing the doors behind him.

Ashe tries to rub out the pain in her forehead, with no success, and returns to her letter.

Your Highness, Queen Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca,

As you no doubt already have heard, a month ago, my dear father, may the Gods look on him with favor, died suddenly while sleeping, leaving me the ruler of Rozarria. Since the moment the crown touched my head, to my great annoyance, my advisors have been assaulting my ears with pleas for me to marry. After a month of their constant buzzing, I have decided to relent, if only so they will shut their mouths.

Therefore, I write to you with a proposal. Your kingdom is still recovering from a dreadful war and there is still much to accomplish to that end. Therefore, I offer you my hand in marriage in exchange for the support Dalmasca desperately needs. It is an ideal match. I will have a queen and you will have the assistance your country requires. Please write your reply as soon as is possible.

Yours, etc.

Al-Cid Margrace Rozarria

Ashe blinks once, twice, in mild confusion as to what she just read. Proposal…? Marriage… She reads the words again, just to make sure. She has to be sure that she read correctly, that those words are indeed written on that page. Proposal…hand in marriage… It is true. Al-Cid has, indeed, proposed to Ashe, albeit quite…unemotionally.

Ashe frowns slightly, thinking for a moment. Well, alright then…, she thinks with a light smile on her face. Let's see, now… Ashe opens a drawer, removes a piece of parchment, and wets her pen.

--- --- ---

The double doors of the royal bedchamber open and two raven-haired maidens step in, followed closely by Ashe and not so closely by Al-Cid, supported by another maiden. The two door attendants bow as Ashe and Al-Cid enter. The third attendant leads Al-Cid over to sit on the bed as Ashe surveys the room, the intricate decorations of the furniture, the softness of the curtains, until her eyes finally rest on the rather large portrait of her new husband set high on the wall. She lets out a sigh.

"You like it, my lovely Dalmascan flower?" Ashe spins around to face Al-Cid as he lounges on the bed and hears the low boom of the doors closing, leaving them alone for their honeymoon night. "It was done for my twentieth birthday. I can have a copy made, so that I might never leave your side when you are visiting Dalmasca. I know how greatly you would miss me on such an occasion." Al-Cid removes his sunglasses with a flourish and sets them on an end table next to the bed, then motions to a changing screen across the room. "I picked out something…. special for you to wear tonight. I hope you will like it. Why don't you get more comfortable?"

Ashe moans quietly, but she knows she has little choice. She cannot very well sleep in her voluminous wedding gown. She feels Al-Cid's eyes following her as she walks behind the changing screen. She grimaces. I hate pink.

Ashe secretly revels in the disappointment that crosses Al-Cid's face as she rounds the side of the changing screen. She surveys her outfit. She is wearing a matching linen camisole and short pants that cinch at the knee. She smirks a little, then looks back to him. "That is not what I selected for you," he says, not even attempting to mask his annoyance. "Everyone has to live with disappointment sometimes, even emperors," Ashe quips as she sits on the bed next to Al-Cid.

Ashe feels fingers run through her hair and a breath on her ear. The smirk quickly leaves her face and her eyes widen. "I did not say I was disappointed," Al-Cid coos in her ear. Ashe jerks her head around to face Al-Cid, reeling back slightly at the overpowering scent of alcohol on his breath. "You had too much to drink at the celebration. You do not know yourself." Al-Cid smirks and gently places a hand on Ashe's face. "So beautiful… Ashelia…" he barely whispers. What is he…

Suddenly, Al-Cid pushes her down on the bed, holding her by the shoulders and pinning her on the sides with his knees. "What are you doing?" she angrily snaps at him. Her eyes dart across his body and hers, surveying her situation, until they rest on his face and see the determination in his eyes.

One more moment and he is smothering her with kisses. After a little struggling, Ashe is able to turn her head away and Al-Cid moves his kisses to her neck. Stop it. Stop it. "Stop it!" she shouts in his ear. He is not deterred. Ashe tries to squirm free, but to no avail. Al-Cid shifts the weight on his legs slightly so that he might loosen his trousers. Ashe takes this opportunity to violently and swiftly knee him in his groin.

Al-Cid immediately falls onto the other side of the bed, doubled over in pain. Ashe flies out of bed and runs for the door. "Wait," comes a weak cry from the bed. "Please stay!" As the doors close behind her, she hears Al-Cid yell, "You are my wife! Please! Ashelia!"

Ashe darts into the adjacent bedroom and barricades the door with a ready chair. She pants and leans against the door to catch her breath. From the next room comes an angry, lonely wail in the form of her name. This cannot continue.

The next day, Ashe has her things moved to a room across the royal palace.