Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from Final Fantasy XII. The only thing I own is the plot.

Summary: An exportation of the relationships between the characters, from past to present to future. Story will be rated Teen, but there WILL be individual chapters that are rated Mature (for sex and/or violence).

I realize that there are quite a bit of couples listed, but that's the fun part, right? There is something for just about everyone in this story. There may be chapters on end dedicated to certain couples, while others are only hinted at. But all will be found in this story. Enjoy, and please review!!

Relationships that will be Explored:

Romantic:

Ashe x Balthier, Ashe x Basch, Balthier x Fran, Ashe x Vossler, Ashe x Rasler, Penelo x Vaan, Fran x Ashe, Vaan x Ashe, Larsa x Penelo, Vaan x Balthier

Platonic:

Larsa + Penelo, Basch + Fran, Basch + Vossler, Basch + Balthier

( M A S Q U E R A D E )

Prologue: The Puppet

Two Years Before Vayne's Defeat

She was young enough to be told what to do but old enough to be considered an adult. It was a hard age to be, and her life was quite similar to that of a boring play. She was expected to be a puppet in their show, and being a good actress is hard when you aren't allowed to forget a single line. She dutifully performed when she was told, afterall, it was all she knew. She danced when they said dance. She laughed when they said laugh. She spoke when they said speak. She blended in with the background- just another beautiful accessory of the King's fortune. To the people she was the perfect example of a sweet, virgin Princess. To those around her, she was nothing more than a bland convenience.

A convenience in that she could be wed off to a neighboring kingdom, thus ensuing peace and a good ally.

So she was married to the male mirror of her, and they "played their parts" perfectly. They smiled when told to smile. They slept when told to sleep. They were thought of as one person, and therefore forgotten by their fathers and brothers and countries.

But as the war began and then raged on, and she lost her beloved in the heat of battle, she was told once again to act. Should the Dalmascan people realize that their sweet, virgin Princess knew their country was lost, than they too would fall apart. But she had lost her partner- the only person who could realize that she was more than a obedient, smiling face. She was told to smile, but she frowned. She was told to laugh, but she cried. She was told to be silent, but she yelled. And they were all shocked that she did indeed have a personality; that she would no longer dance their dance. That she was more than a convenience with a plastered smile.

The intricate mask she wore came off. No longer would she play pretend in this royal masquerade.

She was puppet to her kingdom no longer.

Chapter One: The Melancholia

Two Years Before Vayne's Defeat

He was the Captain of the Order of the Knights of Dalmasca and was expected on the front lines of the war. But they had lost the last battle, and many of his men had died. Good men with wives and children, who were now grieving over the loss of their husbands and fathers. But now that battle was over, and Nalbina had fallen. Its Prince was wounded, causing all hope to be lost. The Captain fled back to Dalmasca, desperate to save the gravely injured Prince.

It was near three in the morning when he burst through the castle doors, cradling the unconscious Prince in his arms. The Healers came rushing forward, but they were old and weak and unable to carry his weight. So Basch hauled him to the sanctuary and laid him down on the white marble altar in the front of the grand room. As the Healers began to work, out came the priests, frantically trying to dress as they raced forward. They surrounded the Prince, joining hands in order to summon combined energy, and bowed their heads in union. As they offered chanted prayer, Basch too closed his eyes and prayed to the Gods. If only they would heed his call, then he would owe his life to them. He vowed that if Rasler was to live, then the Gods could take the Captain's life in the next battle.

Someone must have thought to wake her, for the doors to the temple bust open, colliding with the stone walls with a loud thud. Nobody in the room broke concentration except for the now startled Basch. He quickly turned, eyes wide, and saw the Lady Ashe take quick strides into the room. She paused momentarily, her eyes resting on her husband's chilled body thirty yards before her. She mumbled something inaudible, than raced past the wooden pews and down the large aisle towards her beloved. She was barely clad in her floor length, dark red nightgown. Her uncorseted breasts bounced freely underneath the sleeveless, thin, and tight fabric. The color of the silk made Basch feel near lightheaded- he had seen too much crimson during the last battle. As the concerned Princess attempted to race past the Captain and reach her husband, Basch stuck his arms out and jumped in her path. She instantly crashed into him, her thin body wrecking hard against his dirty steel armor. She stumbled backwards and he used his gloved hands to steady her on her bare feet. She looked up at him, a surprised look crossing her innocent face. His face was stern and hard, if not a little sad. She went to again move by him but he stepped in her path once more.

A look of pure frustration crossed her face- something Basch had never seen before. He was used to her always smiling and following her father's orders.

"Captain fon Rosenberg," she near snarled. "If you will please step aside, I must see my husband."

"I cannot allow that, you Majesty," he explained calmly, gesturing behind him at the group circling the Prince. "If you break the power circle, their Healing energy will be lost."

She tried to look past his large stature, but he didn't even let her look at him. The wounds on Rasler would be enough to send Ashe into hysteria, and Basch felt it best that the delicate young woman not go through such tragedies. Had she seen him, she would try to get to him, therefore breaking the Healer's circle.

He stepped towards her, and she took a nervous step backwards. He continued to walk towards her until she understood his intentions. Turning on her heels, she solemnly dragged her feet behind her as she headed back out of the temple.

Once in the hallway which led back to the castle, Ashe stumbled forward and allowed herself to be caught by one of her two chambermaids that waited for her. The girl caught her, allowing the Princess to let out a terrified sob into her bosom. Basch watched on as the maid stroked Ashe's hair, trying to comfort her, as the other handmaiden quickly draped Ashe's thick black cloak over her slender shoulders.

Ashe straightened herself, resuming her emotionless posture and fished her arms through the long sleeves of the velvet cloak. Basch hesitated where to stood, wanting to reassure the Princess that her husband would be fine, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to the King's daughter. He could see her visibly trembling beneath the thick cape, and he frowned.

Without looking back, Ashe headed down the hallway, most likely back to her bedroom. Her handmaids followed closely behind her, leaving Basch alone in the dimly lit entranceway to the sanctuary.

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The Prince passed away less than two hours later. Basch took it upon himself to inform the King of Dalmasca of the loss. The elderly man didn't look surprised but gloomy. He didn't say much, but the look on his worn face told Basch enough: even the King believed that Dalmasca would soon fall. He retired slowly to his room, commanding Basch to deliver the somber news to his youngest child.

Basch found her sitting in a side room off of the Queen's parlor. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, her head bowed in silent prayer. Her chambermaids allowed him to enter, and she slowly raised her head to look at him. As soon as she saw the downcast look on his blood speckled face, her own expression crumbled from worried to despair. She knew what he was going to say before he could say it. Her posture stiffened, and she choked back a sob.

Quickly did he approach her, kneeling before her throne-like chair and lowering his head in respect.

"I am truly sorry," was all he could offer her in her sadness.

She sniffled and looked down at him, then commanded that he raise his head and look at her. He did as she requested, and met her watery eyes. There was wisdom deep inside the azure depths; he saw, something he never knew existed. At that moment he realized that she was completely different than she led people to believe. She was a magnificent actress, and even he had been fooled.

She leaned far forward, reaching out and clasping his hands tightly within hers. They felt soft and smooth, quivering against his rough skin. She sank away from her chair, and he allowed her to fall into his plated body as the tears began to flow silently from her eyes. Her blonde hair brushed against his cheeks, mouth, and nose, and he could smell the sweet floral essence of her that filled his nostrils. His heart ached for her. After all, she was just a little girl who was on the line of being a grown woman, and already she had lost so much.

"Basch," she sighed out his name. She tried to push herself further into him. "Please, listen to me. You are all I have left, do you understand me?"

Your father, he thought gingerly. Your throne. You have more than me.

It was as if she could hear his troubled thoughts. She twisted in his arms until she could freely look up upon his face. Her lips twitched as she struggled not to cry. "Nobody else, just you. Please, Basch, protect me. Keep me safe- now and always. Please."

He nodded, looking down at her pretty face. She sighed and completely relaxed in his stiff arms.

She breathed, "I trust you."

A week later, he murdered her father. Or so she thought.

Author's Note: Please reviewwwww :)