So, as I'm sure you can see, I've started a new story! My other one is still a work-in-progress, but it unfortunately got put into a bit of a hiatus. Mostly because I was given the task to try and write a 50,000 word story in a month. I... only got halfway, heh. However, I liked the story I got and decided I might as well post it up here and try to finish. Hopefully you guys will like it too!

This story is basically my take on Ashe's past, and how she became the person she was at the beginning of the game. I hope that I've achieved my goal of perhaps better explaining a reason for her sort of cold nature when she first met the other characters. But I don't know, you tell me?

Before you start reading the actual story, one more thing: I don't own Final Fantasy XII or anything associated with it. All I own is the main plot, and my own original characters.

Chapter One - Sanctuary

Small spaces always made her nervous. It made her feel like the walls were slowly coming together, trapping her within. However, it wasn't as though one could blame her for feeling this way. Take anyone who had experienced nothing but large, spacious rooms their entire life, and place them somewhere no bigger than a closet? It's not unexpected that some previously undiscovered claustrophobia may make itself known. The lifeless gray walls and thin gleams of moonlight through the small barred window certainly did not help the situation. The sensation of being confined in a prison cell only heightened her anxiety.

Her eyes, a washed out bluish gray, seemed to be staring through the ceiling above her. She had been lying across her cot, nearly unblinking, for the past hour. Having feigned exhaustion in order to retreat to her cramped living quarters, she was sure not to make a sound. The room itself was silent aside from her breathing, but a muted roar of sound came from beyond the walls. It was early yet in the evening, and the others staying with her were all still active. She was in the company of good people, she knew. However, even though the claustrophobic thoughts certainly didn't help soothe her mind, the fact she was alone gave her some feeling of sanctuary. She simply didn't wish to deal with the organized chaos around her anymore for the night.

"Your Majesty?"

The fair-haired Princess didn't react at all to the gruff voice outside her door. She already knew who it was, so no effort was made to answer him. Ashelia—or Amalia, as she would now be called—was perfectly content with having him assume she was asleep. She thought Vossler a confidant who she could look to, yes, but the current circumstances dictated that it was best she not speak to him for a while. It had only been an hour and a half or so since she had gone through a bit of a breakdown, taking out the brunt of her frustration on General Azelas. She was sorry for doing so, but she hadn't gone and actually apologized. Honestly, she was surprised that he was even trying to speak to her so soon after the fact.

Ashe waited in silence as the loyal knight stood outside, and a soft sigh escaped her lips once she heard the distinct clink of his armor as he walked away. He would return later on, she was sure. For now, the seventeen-year-old was simply glad that she would be left in peace. There was too much to worry about; too much weight on her shoulders. It had come to the point that—while perhaps not the first time it had happened in her life, but without a doubt it was the first time it had been so severe, so crippling—Ashelia was beginning to feel like she was folding under the pressure. Her mind was plagued with all sorts of ill thoughts, and nothing she could do would make them go away. She was in a state of distress; so many emotions she had kept deep within were finally breaking through—destroying, more obliterating, really—the wall she had constructed so carefully.

She was supposed to be dead. Her uncle, the Marquis Ondore of Bhujerba, was responsible for the announcement of her death. He had told all of Ivalice that the poor Princess of Dalmasca, stricken with grief for her family and the fall of her country, had taken her own life. From what she had been told by others, the entire world was under the assumption that she was dead, poisoned at her own hand. Obviously, this was not exactly the truth as Ashe lay there, still breathing, her heart still beating steadily. Physically dead she may not have been, but her mental state was beginning to deteriorate to that of a near corpse.

Suicide? A thought that once would have seemed farfetched was rapidly becoming not so to the blonde young woman, as time passed by with irritating slowness. It was now becoming increasingly difficult to keep herself strong and in control. She had been forced into this completely new environment so suddenly, her life changing in a very short period of time. Nearly everyone she had ever loved was dead and gone. She had been wholly betrayed by someone who she had trusted. Her life was beginning to self destruct, and yet she had no choice but to take on this new life as Amalia—a strong leader who would not; could not let her emotions obstruct the end goal. It was all so much to take in. The more she mused on her current circumstances, the more tempted she became to make her uncle's announcement a fact, instead of merely a political tactic.

Thinking of her Uncle Halim caused her to remember his sister, her own mother. The Queen had been a source of hope for Dalmasca, she remembered. Even though Ashelia had been quite young when her mother was alive, she still knew just how much her mother had affected the atmosphere of the palace, as well as all of Dalmasca. Her Royal Majesty Queen Azra had been a fixture in Ivalice, both a charismatic celebrity and an important part of Dalmasca's political structure. Though of course Ashe did not realize this as a child, in her later years she looked at records and found her mother to have been much more than a figurehead Queen. The Bhujerban-born woman had been ready and willing to assist her husband in his decisions, and had always been well informed on the happenings of Ivalice.

She was the sort of Queen that Ashe could only dream of becoming some day. It was one of her greatest hopes, but at this point her optimism towards achieving such was not so high. She may have had the blood of royalty running through her veins, but her throne had been taken away. Ashelia had no way of reclaiming it now, the announcement of her faux suicide hindering any ability to go back to the palace which had been essentially conquered by the Empire. If she were to try and take back what was rightfully hers, she would only be met with opposition and doubt that she was truly who she claimed to be. It was an issue, but for now it was one that would remain unimportant. Ashe needed to be working with her group, the Resistance, to break the empire's hold over Ivalice. Anything that could further complicate things would be left for much later on, when they had made more progress.

Sighing, Ashe let her eyes close as she pondered just what her mother would have thought of this entire situation if she were still here. The Queen had always been an advocate for peace, part of the inspiration for Ashe's own beliefs. She was sure that Azra wouldn't have been happy to see how the war had destroyed so many lives. She was also positive that her mother would have done her best to see that Ivalice could look to the horizon. If only she were there to help...The Resistance leader could remember so clearly the last time she had ever seen her mother alive; a seemingly normal day when she was only six years old.

"There is something wrong with Her Royal Majesty?"

"Apparently she is quite ill, bedridden completely."

"Do they know what ails her?"

"Aye, they think it might be the plague."

"The plague! The plague is returning?"

"The healers are considering the possibility."

"What misfortune! May the Light keep our Queen safe."

"Yes, Dalmasca would be heartbroken if anything befell her."

As the two guards conversed in front of the Queen's quarters, they hardly noticed the small figure silently watching them from a few yards away. They had no idea that the palace's youngest royal was out of her bedroom and had been slinking around the ornate halls. The girl was only a mere six years old at the time, but her skill in escaping the watchful eyes of the guards was no less clever. She enjoyed observing the palace's inner workings from the shadows, her youthful energy apparent in the way she skipped and frolicked through the halls. Her parents did not condone her rambunctious attitude, but there was not much they could do to stop young Ashelia from going on her little adventures.

Peering carefully around a corner, the small blonde child watched the men speak, their words incoherent due to the distance. She wondered what they were going on about, and if it had anything to do with what she had seen earlier. When Ashe had been out in the main hall, it seemed as though the entire palace was in some kind of panic. People were rushing around like busy bees, the energy even more frantic than was usual on the average day. The girl was very much used to seeing strangers walking around her extravagant home, but today seemed different. Tilting her head to one side in curiosity, the young Princess noticed people going in and out of the royal bedroom. That in itself was normal, servants often tending on the King and Queen when they were in bed. However, the sense of urgency was obvious enough that even Ashe understood.

It was odd, all this commotion, but it didn't deter her in wanting to complete her mission. Ashe had just gotten a haircut, courtesy of the royal barber, and was eager to show her mother. Waiting for the doors to open as someone was walking out, the Princess rushed over to the bedroom. "Princess, wait! Stop!" The two knights called out, attempting to stop the girl from entering. Ignoring the cries of the guards, Ashe simply dodged their advances and ran over to her mother, jumping onto the Queen's bed. "Mother! Mother, look!" The young girl said, shaking awake the slumbering woman; she was much too excited to notice how pale and exhausted her mother appeared. "Hmm?" The dark haired woman replied, gray eyes fluttering open to see the young girl smiling enthusiastically.

"Mother, see, I cut my hair so it looks just like yours!" Ashe exclaimed proudly to the Queen, running a small hand through her cropped hair. Rather than having her blonde locks reach past her shoulders, the young Princess now sported a distinct bob, her hair only falling to her chin. She had always admired her mother's own daring hairstyle, one that had made the Queen recognizable. It was unusual for a woman of royalty to have shorter hair, as long locks were prized for their femininity. Perhaps the Queen's decision to keep her hair this way was an act of rebellion against the norm...waiting for a response, the young girl was anxious to know if her mother approved.

"Oh, did you, dear?" The Bhujerban-born woman replied in an absentminded tone, straightening herself up into a sitting position on the bed. Once she finally got a good look at her young daughter, a warm smile appeared on the Queen's refined features. "How lovely you look, Ashelia!" Turning her head to cough suddenly, Queen Azra's smile faltered for a moment before she regained her composure. "Have you—" She paused to cough again "—shown your father?" Her voice sounded strained, Ashe noticed; not strong and sure like it usually did. Her mother had such a pretty voice, she thought. The Queen's Bhujerban accent was noticeable, but she had been working on sounding as Dalmascan as possible. This in itself caused a unique blend to come through in her speaking, and Ashe would recognize her mother's voice among a million others. She also recognized when the Queen sounded sick, as she certainly did then.

"Mother, are you ill?" Ashe asked, ignoring her mother's previous question and crawling over to place a hand against the tanned woman's forehead. It was all for naught, really, as the little girl had no idea how to feel for a fever—she was simply mimicking what she had seen done around her. Azra felt endeared and smiled again at this, placing her own hand over her daughter's. "It is only a small ailment, sneha," she replied softly, reverting to her native language as she often did in affection.

"Highness, would you like us to remove her? Perhaps the Princess should not be in such close contact with you."

At this, they turned their attention to one of the guards who had just entered the room, perhaps finally deciding it was best to intervene. The King had previously ordered them to make sure none of the royal children were to become infected with whatever illness had claimed the Queen. They were inclined to listen, as poor Raminas was racked with worry about his wife and the rest of his family. The loyal men wanted to be sure they fulfilled their duty to the best of their ability. Queen Azra was very well aware of this, but she shook her head in response. "It is fine, there is no need. You may wait outside, men. I shall send her out shortly."

"As you wish, Majesty," the other guard replied, and the two men bowed deeply at their Queen before leaving her quarters, shutting the doors behind them. Ashe watched after them silently, a look of distaste on her features. She never liked it when the guards would speak to others as though she were not standing right there. The nerve they had! She really ought to send them off to the dungeon. In fact, the girl was about to ask if her mother could make this possible when the Queen went into a fit of violent coughing. Azra fell back onto the pillows in exhaustion, looking quite miserable as she attempted to regulate her breathing. The young Princess frowned deeply at this, upset at her mother's condition. "You are ill..."

The Queen sighed, knowing that her daughter was clever in her youth and would not easily be convinced of something that was not the truth. "Come here." Pulling her daughter over into a hug, Azra ran her hand over the girl's short blonde hair. "You need not worry, Ashelia." The young girl could hear her mother's heavy, struggling breaths. "I will be better soon, alright? I may just need to stay here, in bed, for a while." The gray-eyed woman was patient in the way she spoke, a perfectly mothering tone. Holding her daughter close, she had no fear of passing on her sickness. If it was indeed what she suspected, Azra knew that by then she would have been far past the contagious stages. Reassuring in itself, but also this was a cause for anxiety, considering what tended to follow...

"I cannot visit you anymore?" Ashe asked, her voice making it clear that this thought brought her to the verge of tears. She held tightly onto her mother, smelling her sweet (and certainly expensive) perfume. "It will only be for a short time, vastaa." She said in a soft, reassuring tone. "You will be fine, yes? You have the love of your father to keep you company. As well as your brothers. Everyone around you will be there to protect you and make sure you are not lonely... Most of all, you will have my love as well...that will never change." Kissing her daughter on the forehead, Queen Azra ended the hug and spoke again, "Do not frown so, dear. Your smile suits you much better."

Noting that the guards surely would soon return to see what was holding them up, the Queen inwardly sighed. "You should be off now, Ashelia. Your father has expressed sadness that he has not seen you lately. You would do well to go visit him." At this Ashe nodded reluctantly, still not happy at the fact she was being sent off from her mother so quickly. It happened too often, due to her parents often having important duties to tend to, but it was no less upsetting to her. "Fine, I will, but l wish to come back here later." She replied, the stubborn nature of most children her age shining through. Her mother smiled at this, patting the girl on the head before helping her off the high bed. "Off with you now," the Queen said with a light laugh. "You should show the whole palace your haircut. You look as lovely as a Galbana Lily."

"Thank you, mother!" Ashe called as she made her way out of the royal bedroom, a smile on her face as she waved goodbye. Once she was standing at the large double doors, the young blonde girl turned back around and stared meaningfully at her sickly mother. "You will get better, right? Promise?" The Queen seemed surprised at her daughter's words at first, but smiled weakly after a moment.

"Yes, Ashelia. I promise."

Her mother had always known that she was going to die. The Queen had suspected that it was the Plague that had gotten to her, and she was calculating in how she went about her final days. Only a week after Ashe had left her alone in her bedroom, she was gone...Ashe had no doubt that those words, the last words she had ever heard from her mother, were chosen carefully. They truly meant something, though it took years of maturing for the blonde Princess to realize. Queen Azra wanted her child to know that she was loved, and that she would continue being loved, for all her days. It was bittersweet, a memory that was now causing more pain than comfort. Ashelia could feel tears threatening to fall, her mother's voice ringing in her ears.

Turning her head to the side, Ashe finally opened her eyes again and moved her stare over to the gleaming object sitting on the wooden night stand. She knew exactly what it was, despite the near black darkness obscuring its identity. It was her dagger, which she had placed there weeks ago when she was first taken away from the palace. It was mostly meant for protection, in case the Resistance's base was infiltrated by Empire forces. It wouldn't do much, of course, but only a fool would have remained unarmed. However, now as she gazed almost longingly at the glimmering silver metal, another purpose completely came to mind. It would have been so incredibly simple to grab it and...

Ashe squeezed her eyes shut again and forcibly turned her head in the other direction. It was wrong of her to think this way. The late Queen of Dalmasca wouldn't have wanted her daughter to resort to such drastic measures. In fact, she could almost hear her mother's distinct voice advising her to think before she acted. You have much more to live for, Ashelia dear. And yet, it still seemed so easy. So easy to have a way out of all this trouble, all this stress, all this pain.

Slowly the sounds of activity within the Resistance headquarters began to die down, and through the crack underneath her door Ashe could see the lights going out. The day was over for this ragtag group of insurgents (as they were often referred to as, much to the chagrin of the Princess). Tomorrow they would start again, gathering information and doing all the other things necessary to begin fighting back. They were yet in the beginning stages of planning, but their ambitions were grand. Ashelia was proud of what they had achieved so far, and what they wished to do in the future. However, it did not change the fact that once Ashe was done with being the leader, when the long day was finally over; she would find herself slowly losing hope. Every day that passed by allowed her negative feelings to continue growing, festering and digging beneath her skin. She could feel it happening, and she did try to deter such depression, but there seemed to be no use.

I should try to sleep, she thought, knowing that most of her physical energy had been completely used up at that point. However, her mental state dictated that she would not be getting much slumber anytime soon. It was going to be a very long night, she could already tell.

In Sanskrit, which from what I've gathered is the equivalent to the Bhujerban language:

sneha = love

vastaa = child

Anyway, hope you enjoyed the first chapter! People will probably find it more interesting as it goes on, this is more just a chapter to get into things. I've written quite a bit of this story already, so hopefully updating shouldn't be a problem. Yay! Though I'll tell you, awesome reviews would definitely make me update faster. Just sayin'.