A/N: Alright, someone let me know if there's already been a story with this pairing, because I believe I'm the first.
Her War:
The first time she came, he didn't quite realize who she was.
She had a shawl pulled over her head, so he couldn't see her face clearly, but he could tell from the way it moved that she was looking around frantically. She looked out of place on the streets of Rabanastre, so he assumed she was a foreigner and addressed her immediately.
"You don't look like you're from around her, miss." He said, bowing to her slightly. He had always been the respectful one. Vaan, on the other hand, was obnoxious in the same way that all fifteen-year-olds are. Reks, though, had a way with the ladies. He had yet to meet a girl who would not swoon before him.
"I—I'm not." She said nervously, still looking around.
"Could I show you around, Miss--?" He asked as he offered his hand to her.
"A—Amalia," She said, still looking uncertain as she shook his hand, "And you are…?" She asked, looking slightly suspicious of him.
"Reks. Where are you from, Miss Amalia?"
"N—Nalbina." Reks raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. Travelers from Nalbina always seemed tanned, rough and hardened, and this girl seemed none of these.
"Any particular place you would like to go?" He asked, glancing around.
"Not really. Any particular place you would recommend?"
"If you're the drinking type, the Sandsea is definitely the place to go. But I don't drink, and you certainly don't look like you do, either."
"Correct." She said, smiling. Reks, for whatever reason, glanced to his left.
"There's a palace guard—and another—and another! I wonder what they're doing out here at this time of day—" But before he could have finished his sentence, the girl Amalia had panicked and pulled him into the alley, holding a hand over his mouth as a guard passed by.
"What was that about?" He asked quietly as she let go of him. She looked down, looking sad and defeated.
"I shouldn't have lied to you—but—" She cut herself off. There was a moment of silence, and then Reks realized that under her shawl, she was crying. Suspecting that he was overstepping his bounds, now, he pulled the shawl back from over her head, and lifted her chin with the side of his index finger. There were tears running down her face, a perfect, chiseled face that looked like it belonged to an angel. Her tears slowed, as he began to speak.
"I knew you were no Nalbinan," Reks began, sounding uncertain of himself, "but are you truly—"
"The princess?" the girl chocked, as she pulled off her cloak to reveal a dress worthy of the Royal Palace, and no less. On a gold chain around her neck was the Royal family's Lion Signet, and Reks drew away from her. Who'd have thought he would meet the princess on the streets of Rabanastre?
"What are you doing out here, Your Majesty?" He said, fearful now. Imagine how disrespected she must feel, he thought, after being treated like some peasant girl! He mentally beat himself over the head with a club.
"That's just it!" She screeched, startling him, and turning a few heads in the direction of their alley, but they turned back just as quickly. "When I'm in the palace, it's always 'Your Highness' and 'Your Majesty' and 'Oh, Your Highness, what can I possibly do for you?' and 'Your Majesty! I am honored to attend to your every whim!'" Reks looked at her strangely. He never thought he would hear the princess speak this way, "It's disgusting. I thought that if I snuck out into the city, I could just be normal, like everyone else, for once." She shook her head, "But maybe I was wrong."
"If that's how you want to be treated," Reks said, still very uncertain of the situation, "I'll treat you that way."
"You will? Really?" the princess had stopped crying, and she looked up, hopeful. "Promise?"
He offered his hand to her once more, in agreement. "I promise." She took his hand and shook it, and smiled at him again. He felt his heart melt inside. "So, how, then, would you like me to refer to you?"
"Ashe." She said, still smiling slightly. What a pretty name, Reks thought, to match a pretty smile. Putting her cloak back on, she looked around once more, for Palace guards. Catching him off guard, she embraced him and kissed him on the cheek, in a distinctly un-princess move, he decided. Still embracing him, she said, "I should probably get back to the castle, and pretend I was just hiding in the kitchens, or something, lest they put tighter security on me." As she let go of him, Reks asked,
"Will you be back?" He felt slightly pathetic for asking. Normally, it was the girls who pursued him. But, he decided, this was the princess, and she was allowed to be an exception.
"Yes, of course I will." She said smiling and cocking her head slightly.
"Promise?" He asked, smiling back.
"I promise."
The next time she came, she found him first.
"Reks!" She called his name, and he spun around to see her in traditional Rabanastre street clothes. But she still looked just as beautiful. She ran and hugged him once more, and he decided that he could get used to this.
"How have you been?" He asked, as they let go of each other. Immediately, as her face saddened, he regretted it. Of course things at the palace had been rough. Archadia had conquered the Republic of Landis, and the many other small countries were fearful of the Imperial Empire, including Dalmasca. He shook his head nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "Right. Shouldn't have asked."
"Things are—stressful. Everyone is so worried—but—all I want to do is scream, because worrying won't help anything or anyone."
"Then scream." Reks said, sounding dead serious.
"What?" She asked, slightly startled.
"Scream. Just let it all out. It'll make you feel better."
She eyed his suspiciously. "You're kidding, right?"
"No, not at all." He said, his eyebrows raised.
"Will you scream with me?" She asked quietly.
"Of course I will." He replied.
And over the hustle and bustle of the Muthru Bazaar, one listening could hear the alternate screams and laughs of two teenagers, and still be unable to tell that one was a commoner, a beggar, and the other the most noble of princesses.
She found him in his home, once.
"How did you find me?" He asked, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. She had found him in his small Lowtown apartment.
"I asked around." She admitted. "Is this your home?" She asked slowly, looking around. It wasn't much, a small bed he slept on, a chest where he stashed food and gil.
"Yes. My brother stays in a room at the back of Migelo's Sundries. I am luckier than most down in Lowtown, though."
"Really?" She asked, slightly shocked. "This Lowtown," She began, looking around, "is impressive, but most of these people don't have a place to sleep at night?" He shook his head. "Well, that's that."
"That's what?"
"That's going to go on the top of my to-do list once I become Queen." At her words, Reks smiled. Ashe was going to make an excellent queen.
And once, she came at night.
Very few people wandered the streets during the night, but Reks was out that night, although he didn't quite know why. As he leaned up against the wall of a building, he felt someone come and sit beside him, and he didn't have to ask, or look over, because he knew.
That night, the stars shone brighter than ever and together they gazed at a cloudless sky, pointing out the constellations to one another. After some time, they were silent, and he heard a sigh as Ashe rested her head against his shoulder. He sighed himself, smiling slightly, as he realized that she had fallen asleep. Shortly after, he had fallen asleep himself, but when he awoke the next morning, she was gone.
Once, he told her how he felt.
"I know I'm just a commoner—even less, really," He began uncertainly, unable to meet her eyes, "but each—each day I get to spend with you, it's a gift—I thank the Fates that I actually got the chance to meet you, let alone know you like a friend."
Well, sort of.
He had never really had a way with words.
He kissed her, that time on the roof.
The sunset screamed that he needed to, that it was the right moment, that they may not always have these kinds of chances, these opportunities.
They sat side by side, on the roof of a building, gazing at the sunset, when he spoke,
"Do you believe in love at first sight?"
She looked at him, thinking for a moment, "I've lived in the Palace from the moment I was born. I'm not sure I'll ever understand what love really is."
The conversation seemed finished, but neither turned back to face the sun, and Reks spoke again,
"Although I promised to never use formalities with you," He began, choosing each word carefully, "may I beg of the Lady, her first kiss?"
She didn't even pretend to think, or even take the time to answer. She kissed him timidly at first, but slowly more sure of herself, before drawing away and putting her arms around his neck. "Only if you insist."
That final time, she came crying.
He had trouble getting her to stop and explain to him what was wrong. And after she had said exactly what was on her mind, he kind of wished he didn't know after all.
"I—I'm to be married!" He took her from the Lowtown streets to his humble home, and she continued to cry.
"Married?" He asked, filled with disbelief, or maybe just denial, "You're only seventeen!"
"Royal marriages aren't for love." Ashe said, slowly calming down.
"Who are you betrothed to?" Reks asked uncertainly.
"Rasler Heios Nabradia." She put weight on each syllable on his name. Reks couldn't tell if she spoke with dread, disdain, or concern.
"It'll be okay," Reks decided to fill the supportive role, even though it was tearing him apart. "I'm sure you'll learn to love him."
"I don't want to be married, though." There were tears streaming down her face once more, and Reks suppressed the urge to wipe them off her beautiful face himself. "I could run away, fake my own suicide, and live with you…"
"I'm sorry Ashe, but I can't let you do that. Dalmasca needs you—we all need you. And if you won't marry Rasler for the sake of your country, please, do it for me."
"Is this—is this our last goodbye, then?" Ashe said, her voice shaking through the tears.
"I'm afraid so." As she hugged him one last time, resting her head on his shoulder, he sighed, and after a moment, decided to ask, "May I ask of the Lady—"
And she kissed him, because neither really wanted to say goodbye.
But it wasn't the end, after all.
Ashe was obviously troubled by Lord Rasler's death, as Reks thought she would be. He was definitely jealous of their marriage, and had avoided the parade. The Ashe he knew and Princess Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca seemed like two totally different people. He still missed her, and he thought of her every single time he looked at the stars, and he knew he would never love anyone like he loved her.
"Reks—" She said, having found him in an alley. "What's wrong?"
Not looking at her, he said, "This isn't right—you're a princess. I—I can't have you—"
"You once promised me you would treat me no different than anyone else."
Standing up and turning to face her, he said sadly, "We said our last goodbye long ago. This isn't right."
"Reks, would you please tell me—what's wrong?"
"I'm going off to fight in the war, Ashe." His face was serious, but there was a quiet fury still in his voice, "I'm fighting for your father. I'm fighting for you. And I have this feeling—I'm not coming back. I may die, I may desert and move to Rozarria. I don't know how, I don't know why, but I'm not coming back. So please, it would be best if you forget me." "I refuse!" She shouted, "I can never forget you! I--" "Goodbye, Ashe." He said, and this time, the sadness finally cut through his voice. The fury was gone, burned out, and he said slowly, "I'm afraid this is the end of our story."
"You, there. Can you hear me?" "It's as I feared. They're slowing us down." "Do not say that. Not all of us are here for our love of battle." Reks shook himself awake, but quickly felt a stab of pain. "He fights to defend his homeland." He looked to his captain, Basch, and corrected him in his mind.
He was fighting for her. He was fighting her war, because she was the one girl he couldn't have.