Title: Memoirs of a Desert Queen

Fandom: Final Fantasy XII

Genre: Romance/ Drama/ Adventure

Characters: Al-Cid X Ashe X Vaan

Status: In Progress

Disclaimer:

I own nothing but the outline of this story.

All names, characters and anything related to FFXII that has been mentioned here, unless duly stated, belong to Square Enix.

Author's Note:

Okay, so now that I was inspired, I decided to write my very first fanfic attempt.

It's a VaanXAshe fanfic, but I'm trying to pull-off an interesting prologue just enough to spark a hint of curiosity to my intended audience, and of course, to spread more FFXII love!

Updated – 9/11/12:

I have applied major changes to this fanfic, mostly regarding on tone/style, sentence construction, conciseness and redundancy, cohesiveness and pretty much almost everything that concerns effective proofreading. The whole chapter remained true to its plot since its first publication, but has undergone quite an upgrade after a few recaps, like the emphasis on the poorly written conversations between Ashe and Al-Cid (I have resorted to watching anything medieval just to convey that Old Shakespearean English feel, LOL), and the detailed use of adjectives for minimal exaggeration.

Chapter 1

"A Marriage of Convenience"

"The Bahamut. It has been so long…"

Ashe caught herself reminiscing the historic events before her undisputed coronation as she gazed upon the remnants of the once nethicite maneuvered airship, the Bahamut. The worn airship stood both as a residue of Vayne's insanity and as a relic of Dalmasca's independence. Perhaps if courage didn't exist in their dictionaries, Balthier and Fran would not, by any chance, have dared risk their precious lives in a desperate attempt to restore that airship's main power.

And she knew that perhaps, Dalmasca would then cease to exist as she knows it.

"The war is over. Ivalice looks to the horizon. A new day has dawned..."

"We're free…"

Since then, the people of Dalmasca regained the freedom and peace they have earnestly been longing for for years—and Ashe, reclaiming what she ought to, was now enthroned as their queen. Her stand not only as the only daughter of the late King Raminas, but also as the only living descendant of the Dynast King, need not prove her eligibility for the position—in fact, she was more than qualified for the job. She did hesitate at first after realizing that all the freedom she once had will be abruptly taken away from her. Then again, it is selfishness and cowardice to reject her throne and ignore the people's strident call for a ruler.

Because being a queen of a once fallen country is her destiny—a sole life path she must endure walking.

It's been almost four years since she last saw her comrades at her coronation ceremony. Since then, the wary queen became uncertain of the possibility to be reunited with them once more. She used to think of them whenever her agitated mind struggles to find peace—worn and exhausted from all the day's work. Even with the absence of war, to supervise a small kingdom all by herself is an undoubtedly arduous responsibility. If only Rasler was here, she thought, then perhaps there could have been someone to lend her a hand.

Someone to say everything is going to be all right.

Someone to stay by her side.

Someone to protect her.

And someone to love her.

But he's dead—and the truth struck her painfully. While it was true that their marriage was merely organized for political purposes, Ashe and Rasler did share something that was, which they both considered, far beyond friendship. He died after being shot by an archer during that fateful siege at Nalbina Fortress. Losing her husband was then followed by the assassination of her father—and these unfortunate incidents stirred within her a spark of guilt, which then burned into a furnace of hatred. She had enough of the grievances, she had enough of tears; and her devastation eventually led her towards vengeance.

However, after meeting Vaan and the rest of her comrades in the most unlikely circumstances, her life and attitude towards the Archadian Empire had been altered significantly. In the end, she realized that seeking vengeance is useless. Instead of following her once selfish desire, Ashe decided to stand for her people's dream—a mislaid dream she alone could possibly grant them back.

And that was their freedom.

Now that Dalmasca has been unchained from the slavery of the Archadian Empire, everything went back to the way it was before, just as she had always wanted.

The queen heaved a sigh of relief at the very thought of this. She clasped her pallid hands against her chest, and incidentally, her fingers brushed the tip of her wedding ring—of that same silver ring Rasler has placed upon her finger nearly six years ago—a vestige of their solemn vows.

Her eyes laid peacefully at the majestic hues of the skyline at dusk, where the clouds have been cleverly painted with streaks of pink, gold, and orange by the setting sun. Feeling a bit restless, she silently proceeded to her bedchambers—her seemingly private office where she keeps herself locked in almost every night—and strode her way towards a small drawer at her dresser. She unfastened the tiny lock that secured the miniature cabinet, and from in it took out a smaller box—a beautiful small box encrusted with golden Rozarrian embellishment to fashion. She carefully opened the miniature chest, revealing a gold ring neatly cradled in a cushion of fine red silk, and studded with diamonds that sparkled magnificently against the setting sun.

Ashe shook her head in disdain as she gently placed the ring atop of her table—the table where she left small piles of letters, manuscripts, and various documents partly scattered. She felt her eyelids wilt at the sight of the tremendous paperwork she had endlessly been doing for days. However, apart from all tedious assignments, something else has been fervently obstructing her focus. It had merely been just five days ago, she remembered, when she last heard him speak in his odd Spanish accent…

Circa 710 Old Valendia: Five Days Ago

The Royal Palace of Dalmasca – The Throne Room

"I, Al-Cid Margrace of Rozarria, kneel down before her royal majesty, the beautiful Lady Ashelia B'nargin of Dalmasca, to formally demand her hand in marriage…"

The throne room was filled with murmurs at the sudden appearance of the noble man. He had his sleek raven black hair pulled backwards, his bangs covering half of his eyes. He had a tanned complexion, which was not really emphasized by his unlikely taste for cobalt vests and faded brown pants—finished up by a pair of knee-high boots that appeared equally, or worse, more expensive than his long-sleeved top. He came into the throne room with his maidservant, a black-haired woman.

Ashe's mind was void, and all she felt was nothing more but anger brewing inside her veins.

Yes. Al-Cid is asking her hand. In marriage.

The issue about Dalmasca demanding parley with the Empire of Rozarria was something the queen grew very much aware of—since the Senate has been discussing about it for nearly three weeks now. What made Queen Ashelia stagger in irritation was this sudden proposal of such preposterous marriage. The Senate has never regarded, or else, discussed about such option—and she was utterly sure about that.

She tried her best to look calm despite of her fervent objection. She knew it would be too unethical for a queen to bluntly refuse a noble man's proposal, especially in front of a pretty large crowd. She gazed down at him, her brows cringing at the awful sight of the kneeling gentleman. She clenched her fists on her sides in a serious attempt of maintaining her composure—yet the more she tried to gain control over her temper, the more she fought the persistent urge to slap this man before her.

Oh, for Raithwall's sake! How she would've wanted to throw him off his feet—or in his case, his knees.

Still feeling a gust of smoldering anger, she shortly closed her eyes, and sighed after opening them, shaking her head in dismay. "Arise, your Excellency," she greeted almost insincerely, yet still trying to conceal her annoyance. "It is an honor to welcome his grace to the Palace of Dalmasca."

The noble man bowed his head with a grin that spoke of such pretense vanity. "But I would not mind doing so, if it pays to show such reverence to her Majesty," he alleged as he held one of her delicate hands. "Still, I would like to apologize if my intimate gesture did seem a bit intimidating. I do hope I did not startle you—worse offend you in any way."

Ashelia managed to execute an act of appreciation by merely smiling and lowering her head, as if to understand the sincerity of his intentions. "Well, for a queen who is fairly used to a lot of negotiating, I must say that I find your excellent choice of words quite astonishing."

'Acting is unquestionably not my expertise,' she told herself, wondering if someone in that throne room had the least suspicion that she was, apparently, just pretending to be nice.

He nodded feverously, regarding her statement more as a compliment. "Guilty, I am afraid," he sneered. "It is not a prerequisite, but rather, a nature for every man to commence such blatant gestures to swoon the ladies off their feet. Yet to be able to slightly render even the magnificent queen of Dalmasca in bemusement?" he paused as he gazed at her grey eyes for a moment, trying to immerse in their subtlety. "Now that, I must say, is never talent, but luck." He lifted the hand he was holding and smeared a light kiss on it, before helping himself up.

Ashe felt the pressure of his lips as he tarnished her pallid knuckles with his seal, and instantly felt a nasty shiver crawl down her spine. She slightly jumped at the ghastly sensation, which almost made her jerk her hand away from him. She cleared her throat so Al-Cid would not notice her apprehension. "I do not wish to interrogate you, your Excellency," she started sternly. "But do you not suppose that all these are happening…well, a bit too hasty?" While it is true that she agreed to secure a rational bondage with Rozarria and its dominating empire, she never agreed to an arranged marriage. Her statements before were clear, and her vows were solid. If she would remarry, it would be for the sake of love.

And for her, Rasler was her first, and certainly, would be her last.

Al-Cid simply sent her a smirk. "Oh, I doubt hasty is the most fitting word to describe it, my queen." He took off his shades, flipped back his hair, and then snapped his fingers. Without more ado, one of his lovely servants came to his call. Ashe quickly recognized her, for she was the same servant lady they have met down at Bur-Omisace, on that very first day Lord Larsa has introduced this man to her. The woman took the shades he was handing her with cautious hands, then exchanged it for a small present. The queen need not to ask what treasure is encased in that tiny chest, for she knew exactly what to expect. However, she kept hold of her tongue and remained stagnant at her throne, impatiently waiting for the next big thing to happen.

This is not good.

"My professor once imparted an infamous citation to me which says, 'never put on till tomorrow what you can do today'," he said as he unraveled the tiny present before her eyes, revealing a golden ring studded with diamonds which casted brilliant colours through her irises. This was the first instance a man had actually knelt down before her to declare a proposal right in front of such populace. Although she already expected how this unlikely scene would unfold before her eyes, Al-Cid's intimate gesture rendered her speechless. During her father's time, such courtships were never entertained—for she and Rasler have already been engaged since childhood, both because of traditional and political means.

She darted her attention to the ring, eyes wide as he gallantly raised it up before her. It was beautiful, yes, but not as valuable as the one she already wore on her finger. She was utterly unprepared to deal with such situations—yet she knew she cannot simply decline his proposal even if every inch of her screamed in rejection.

Not in front of this entire people, she thought.

Witnessing those reassuring looks from the eyes of the Magisters, Ashe knew that this time, there's no escaping this nightmare. She knew that proposal would raise yet another debate inside the Dalmascan court—an endless argument between her decision and the trial of the Judiciary.

Desolately, Ashe accepted the box from Al-Cid's hand. "If his Excellency would not mind, I would like to put this proposal of yours to much deliberation." She paused, searching for perfect quotation that would restate her intentions. "After all, there is a saying that all good things come to those who wait." That was the least alibi she could come up with, rather than taking the option of embarrassing him in an entourage of spectators. Then again, that wouldn't be such a good idea, she thought, since the man who stands in front of her is not just anyone of the ordinary, but the great Al-Cid Margrace—someone who equally gains as much respect as the people have for her, and most prominently, one of the conquerors of the largest Empires in all of Ivalice, the Rozarria.

'Remember this Ashelia; you are their queen—and you have the right to make a judgment for yourself'she thought.

"Do alleviate yourself, my queen, for I am in no hurry. To let you answer inconsiderably on such solemn matters would be the last thing I ought to hear." He deliberately reached for her hand again, liking the feel of her soft skin brushing lightly to his fingertips, and attempted to mark a kiss on it. This time though, Ashe jerked from his imminent action, and his hand kissing rather ended up as a sociable handshake. "However, I am expecting that this deliberation you say would not take too long." She forced a curved lip to slowly emerge from her undaunted façade when she saw him grin at her, nearly convinced that she even saw him wink.

"Well then, this has been a splendid day. I would like to express my gratitude for the heartwarming hospitality you and your people have imposed on us, even though we did come on such short notice." He lowered his head to pay reverence to the queen before finally stating his goodbyes. "I shall be waiting for verdict soon, your majesty." Again, he smiled back and winked at her as he donned his pair of shades from his maidservant. "Certainly, her majesty is exactly aware that I am one but of many."

Ashe forced again yet another smile and responded in repulsion, "I do believe you are."

Satisfied with her remark, Al-Cid proceeded to make his exit from the throne room. Ashe felt her tensed body releasing from its encapsulated agony as she saw the huge doors lock behind the noble man. After a few seconds of his absence from the throne room, the faint whispers of the palace officials became more apparent, and soon boomed into shreds of wild clamor. She was utterly aware of the uncompromising looks that emerged from the magisters' faces, but she chose to ignore all of them when she rose from her seat and proceeded straight to her room. She instantly plunged into a pool of velvet sheets and cottony pillows the moment her feet touched the marbled flooring of her silent territory.

"What were they thinking?" she relentlessly asked herself as she gaped at the silky curtains that hung nonchalantly just above her mattress. She wouldn't want to marry someone out of persuasion—especially someone like him. But what can she possibly do? The magisters will definitely agree to his proposal, no doubt.

Because no matter what happens, the sake of her people must always be a priority over hers.

She may be matured through thoughts, but the fact remains that even at her early twenties, she is still inevitably too young to conquer even a small country. The more she thought about it, the more exhausted she felt. Soon, she felt her head pulsating in pain, as if some heavy hammer was being stammered through her core, demanding for a day's rest. As thoughts started to drift away, she felt her body relax and her eyes silently wilt beyond her control, relishing the faint lulls that slowly crept within her.

And before she knew it, she's already asleep.

Author's Note: This chapter is mainly about Queen Ashe's decision over Al-Cid's proposal. I know it's not much of a good story, but I'm working on it! I'll be updating soon once I've been inspired again with another ideal sequence.

If you noticed any typos and errors that needs immediate attention, please do tell me so I could fix the glitch. Your questions, comments, and critiques are highly appreciated. :)