So - this is a rewrite of a FFXII by spideydance, which was an old account of...one of us! It's a secret. You'll see she posted on her account on FFN about this rewrite as well, so we're not just stealing someone's story. The original fic will stay up on spideydance's account, but we ask that you take this as a separate story with no relation to that one - we are changing a few things here from the original, so you may just end up confused or frustrated if you hold onto old details you had there.
Once again, this is about the sister of a canon character, this time in FFXII - the character being Rasler. Two sequels are posted along with this oneshot - The Games We Play and Hide and Seek, which are AUs of each other. More on that at the end of this fic!
Hide and Seek
The city was strangely quiet that day.
Was it the weather? The clouds hanging low upon the dark firmament threatened to give way to heavy, unabated tears, but Anastacia refused to let that stifle her search.
The prince is dead, they said. Impossible. She had seen him herself, beckoning to her from her door, pulling her from the blankets that had become sanctuary the past few days.
Now she was here, but the mourners were getting in her way. The people who had adored her dancing, who had gasped and cheered at her approach now swarmed her with sorrow. Anastacia had loved them in turn, but her patience was starting to wear thin.
What are you doing here, my lady? they wept. The cathedral...
She didn't have time for this!
Shaking them off, Anastacia hurtled through the plaza, long, sandy blonde hair loosing from its knot behind her as she darted across the murmuring crowd. Up ahead, a flicker of blue flitted across her vision, giving her a wink.
"You were always better at hide-and-seek."
Of course she was. And she would prove that again.
"Lady Anastacia! There she is!"
The voices called, followed by the distinct clinking of Dalmascan armor, but she ignored them, too.
It was her brother she followed. Rasler was there, and he needed her help to prove that none of this was real. So on she went, running, pushing, pleading until she could no longer hear the disbelief and the disapproval. Now all she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat, but even it taunted her. Not this time, it said.
No. Her senses wouldn't lie to her, would they? Her pace quickened with every hint of unnatural light that crossed her gaze. Past those shops...
Anastacia hadn't even realized she was in the cathedral until it was her footsteps she now heard, echoing through the church's grand chambers.
"...guide your spirit's return to the Mother of All…" the preacher had been saying, but all of the cathedral stopped upon her entrance, her interruption of the sacred rite.
From where she stood, Anastacia saw the man for whom it was being done. The body in the casket - she saw it as both the boy who had bullied her as a child and the man who swore to keep their kingdom safe, and it was heresy to her. "What are you doing!?" she gasped, fearlessly returning the gaze of those who watched her with caution. Fear. Pity. From the entrance, guards slowly approached her.
"Ashelia, sister," she begged, searching the eyes of the young woman kneeling before the body. "You don't have to do this! Rasler - he's alive! I saw him!"
The girl looked up at her with only the same sorrow. The same disgusting, cruel, horrid sorrow those outside had greeted her with. "Anastacia," she murmured, rising to her feet, "Please…"
"You - you don't believe me?"
But it wasn't the heat of embarrassment that crept up her back. It was fury. The sting of betrayal. It was in all their eyes. The nobility, the commoners, the Marquis Ondore, the Dalmascan captains - the dark and fair-haired ones, the latter of whom now approached alongside King Raminas - they were all fools.
"He's here! Why else would I be here attending this - this farce if not to prove that to you!?" she screamed, shaking with rage as she demanded the answer of them. The truth that she refused to see.
"Princess," said her uncle, the most heartbroken expression on his face. He had only ever loved her, so why was he hurting her now? "Lord Rasler—"
"Is here," she snapped, backing away from the King. In doing so, she bumped into one of his captains, the apology brimming in his steel blue eyes. "Stop looking at me like that!" the girl screamed, reaching for her aching temples.
"Find me."
Her head snapped up at the voice. He was there, in the back of the cathedral, standing by the door to the stairway. With a nod, Rasler disappeared inside.
"My lady—"
The captain began, but she had already bolted past him, rushing headlong to the stairs, lost in the game that would one day lead her to the gods.
It was chaos on the roof. The wind whipped at her, and for a moment it seemed as though it mocked her, whistling in delight at the entertainment she provided. Anastacia pushed through it, holding onto the skirts of her mourning garments as she made her way to him. He stood on the edge of the cathedral roof, giving her that mischievous smile that had always prompted their favorite game.
She wasn't even sure when it had begun. But Rasler had always goaded her into being seeker when he was too tired of being unable to find her. Still, she wore the mantle well, tearing through Verdpale Palace, leaving no wardrobe, no chests, no tables sometimes literally unturned in her search for him.
Talk of marriage between her brother and Ashe had circulated since the latter's birth, but it was during their teens when these plans solidified. Anastacia had happily set aside their games then, preoccupied with her own love - the adoration of the masses, when her performances for the people of Dalmasca became a celebrated expectation prior to the appearances of the joint kingdoms' future king and queen.
But then Rasler rode to war, to aid their father...
"Lady Anastacia!" the door to the roof slammed open, and the wind howled with laughter, maliciously blowing its owner back.
...and the game began again. Rasler was here now. She could once more attain victory when she touched him. Indifferent to her wind-burnt skin, she let go of her dress and held onto one of the roof's spires, moving ever forward.
The shimmering lights that made her brother stepped backward, opening his arms to her. The tears in her eyes blinded her to the malice in his sweet smile.
"I'll win," she insisted, reaching out, letting go of the spire until she was teetering on the edge.
"I know," said Rasler, and this close to him, Anastacia heard something in his voice. Something that was not his own.
In that moment, she stood back, doubting herself. "Rasler?"
Rasler reached out for her again - until an arm yanked her back and she was enveloped in warmth and a thick wall of muscle.
Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg squinted down at her, keeping her grounded. "Are you unharmed, Your Highness?"
Anastacia looked up, glancing between Basch and the edge of the roof. There was nothing there but the wind, wailing furiously at them, and dejection in her heavy heart. Not this time, it repeated. And whatever it had been, whatever had kept her under such a thrall… it was gone. She knew her heart to speak true.
"Rasler…" she breathed, and the dismay, the sorrow, the truth made her face scrunch with agony. It was unbecoming of a princess - of her, especially - and she covered her face with her hands as she forced herself not to cry.
"Princess," Basch murmured, pulling her into an embrace that should have been forbidden. But his comfort was not unwelcome, and the way his voice shook only twisted at the anguish in her heart. "I am sorry. I failed you."
"No. You…" Anastacia swallowed her despair, letting eyes search his face. Shame and sadness, but no lies. "Did you really not see him?"
Basch shook his head.
The girl felt herself redden in humiliation. "Well… I did. I know I saw Rasler, even if…"
The captain opened his mouth to interrupt, but when she met his gaze, he stopped himself.
"I know. I know he's dead, and it's Archadia's fault. Not yours. It's just… did you know hide-and-seek was his favorite game?"
Basch looked upon her briefly before squeezing his eyes shut and nodding.
Anastacia knew that pain. It shook her shoulders as she finally allowed herself to weep in his arms, throwing hers around his neck. He held her tighter, and though he was soundless, the way his chest shuddered told the princess that her comfort was not unwelcome, either.
"I thought we could play again, one last time," she murmured. "But I suppose that will have to wait. Someday."
"Basch!" The door slammed open yet again, revealing Captain Azelas. His tone softened at the sight of them. "Your Highness."
Basch quickly released Anastacia, who accepted his hand when he offered to help her to her feet. By now the sky had calmed. There was a light rain that would soon worsen into a deluge, and it would be that way for quite some time. But in that very moment, Anastacia knew it wasn't the end. Rasler wouldn't have wanted it to be.
"My apologies, Captain," she said, inclining her head. "I am...devastated. I wish to return to my uncle and beg his forgiveness."
Vossler looked doubtful still, but nodded anyway. "I will prepare them for it, Highness."
When he left them on the roof, Basch turned to her. "King Raminas would not fault you."
Anastacia's eyes fell to her feet as they walked to the door together. "He is too kind. I will still go. After all, I am the only one left. I cannot let the name of Nabradia turn to dust."
"My lady…"
"What is it?"
She looked him in the eye, and though she had never spoken at length with the Dalmascan captain, Anastacia knew it was important. But he only shook his head. "Be careful," he said, offering his arm again.
Anastacia took it, and as she looped her arm around his she felt her chest flutter with… something new.
She didn't know it, but the next few weeks would see her thoughts preoccupied with the captain. Partly as a way to keep herself from dwelling too long on the end of her game with Rasler… and mostly because he was a handsome man who had comforted her in her time of need.
Of course, she would never utter this to anyone. Or perhaps before she could, Basch would ride to war again in the next few days, leaving Anastacia alone with her new game. She could never, however, forget him, and swore that she would one day find the two of them.
No matter if Basch's execution was announced a short time later...
Anastacia would need only two years to learn how to win hide-and-seek with a dead man.
So. spideydance never quite discussed who tried to get Anastacia to jump off that roof, but if you've played the game, then the answer is easy. (Also... we spoiled it in the summary this time. Whoops!) The question is - why?
The sequels to Hide and Seek (which are AUs to each other) are, again, called The Games We Play and The Necessity of Peace.
Both branch off from a single event in Anastacia's life in which she must make a choice, and she chooses differently in each.
We'll spoil you a little - in The Games We Play, she chooses to run away and becomes a sky pirate with a certain duo we already know. It'll be Basch/OC. In The Necessity of Peace, she chooses to protect the remaining people of Dalmasca - whatever it takes. That one will be Vayne/OC.
Which premise piqued your curiosity? Please let us know in a review! (And clearly, the premise of this oneshot was written before and still is a Basch/OC oneshot, but it still precedes The Necessity of Peace.)