Disclaimer: I am not responsible for the making of Final Fantasy XII, nor am I responsible for creating it's characters.
Usually when one hears of a wonderful country ruled by a legendary leader, one thinks of a man; a king to be exact. A king with strength, skill, wisdom paired with cunning, and enough kindness to still be human in people's eyes. But many know he's not like any human. He's a singular man among seas of men, an impeccable being of excellence, a testament of sheer willpower and a set of brilliant brains.
The next person that comes to mind may be a woman; a queen to be exact. Not any less admired but less thought of. It is rare, you see, to have a queen take the throne without a king. So when one reads about a queen having done incredible things like a king, there is a general sense of awe and a fair amount of jaw-dropping. For why else would a queen do spectacular things, if not for the sole reason of being on her own?
It was true, Ashelia B'Nagin Dalmasca was indeed on her own. Not at first, but eventually she was. A newly blooming romance and relationship that might have been strong was killed off by just one arrow. And the dreams she and her soon-to-be king had shared of him someday making a difference crumbled before her eyes as Dalmascan soldiers told her of her beloved's perishing. She was capable of great things, but as of that moment the only thing left to do was run. Run and hide, and find a way to rise up again later. The moment the soldiers uttered this plan, she thought of one word: cowardice. Not applying to her soldiers, but to herself. What right had she to run when her people could not flee? What right had she to live instead of take up her husband's sword and dying while fighting the enemy like everyone else? Her advisers and soldiers pleaded with her, telling her it was the right thing to do. This goes against everything I am, she thought. But she would cave in, and would hide despite her bitterness.
For years, she lived underground and wove her way through the throngs of dark Hume society. The material comforts of royalty were desirable to be sure, but it was the least of her thoughts. One thing she wanted was her honor back. People would not gaze up at her in reverence instead of run into her as they passed, telling her to watch where she was going. She would no longer silence the tumults of her people with a silent gaze, and had to be contented with watching needless brawls break out and escalate to ridiculous proportions, he shouts to stop unheard. And when people talked about how sad it was that she had taken her own life, and that perhaps if she were alive she could help, she felt despair and anger. Maybe even a little bit of hatred. She saw the suffering of her people, and although she was safe she could not fight. She was "dead" after all. A child could be wondering about the once great Ashelia of Dalmasca and why she would kill herself, and she could brush shoulders with the child only to receive a blank stare and a "pardon me".
She also wanted power. Power was something she had always had as a royal. Her husband had been one with power too, though not knowing what to do with it quite yet because he had so many plans and so little time. But she had known exactly what to do with it, and where to channel it. She was Dalmascan after all. Although she cared for her husband, she knew that even as Dalmasca's king he would never really know his people. She did not ever hate him for this. In fact, she loved him even more for coming to rule a kingdom of people that weren't his and trying to make them happy. But he was of Nalbina, and even though people are really just people, these were hers and not his. She knew their cries and wants and triumphs. The pulse of the city was her pulse. The joy of the people was her joy. The despair of the people was her own despair. Each of these things she carried on her shoulders with her husband, but only she knew its gauge and weight to the fullest.
For years, her people's needs would be her fuel and would drive her onward, causing her to forget some of the elementary things of life. But she would always have her pride. And through some turn in life, that pride would be her crutch, helping her to carry herself with dignity but also crippling her under the weight of small perspective thinking. Want became need. Need unfulfilled became anger. Anger became hate. And hate became the thing that spurned her toward revenge.
Her plan for revenge was perfect. Assassination was no longer a problem; she was dead and assassination would do Vayne some good in her opinion. She would break into the castle and fulfill what she now called her destiny. She would bring Archades to its knees through the death of this one man, and would help Dalmasca stand tall as the enemy writhed in pain under her foot. She would eradicate the ones that had taken her husband and her people and everything good in their lives.
...And then a mess.
What forces she had spent over a year scraping up and mounting together are immediately beaten back into the ground by one of the enemy's ships. She is forced to flee again in humiliation, and unexpectedly ends up traveling with a few people. One of these people she is both happy and devastated to find still alive. Basch Von Rosenberg, former captain of the guard and once her husband's most trusted friend, is standing in front of her in the flesh. She gives him a good slap and feels he deserves many more, as he was the one who orchestrated the fall of her people and all that she ever stood for. And yet, she is glad he is alive. He is the only thing left that hasn't died from these times of chaos.
Though she finds the band of people she's traveling with to be noisy and challenging, the tension eventually lessens, and she finds herself face to face with an age-old enemy: memory. She remembers her husband and what he had believed in, and it bothers her and comforts her that Basch, the man who is supposed to be responsible for her country's death, dares to tear down her prideful ways and tell her what is right and wrong. It frustrated her to no end that he tells her what to do, and that even though he's been caged up for several years he still knows what's best for the country. They are both stubborn people, she and him. They butt heads on several occasions. She is more fiery in her approaches, tired of sitting and waiting for a day when redemption for Dalmasca will come. He is more solid in his approaches, and like a rock he is used to being in one place until the need to move arises. It's a pain that he knows how to endure these things better than she.
As she journeys on, she realizes that the almost uncontainable emotions of loss and despair have been felt and are even being felt by the other 5 members of her party. The former captain was obviously the one ranking in second in this area, if not tied with her on the matter. He'd lost his brother, his family, his former country and his surrogate country. The sky pirate's arrogance was just a façade to hide the loss of his father to mad science and strange experiments. The Viera's pain was directed towards losing a home and her family out of choice and naivety. The young thief's pain was much like Ashe's; he'd lost a person to Basch supposedly. And he'd lost his country, forced to walk through the streets knowing it didn't belong to him anymore. And the girl with pigtails had lost what her friend had, which was a family, a country, and security. The once bright future was now blighted by having to grow up faster than necessary.
The lines between her pain and that of the others began to blur. Soon, she could not tell which person was in more pain because everyone's lives bled into the next person's, until all 6 of them had woven an intricate web of experiences played out with the others as comrades.
And from this realization, Ashe found she still had some growing up to do. And grow she did. For not soon after realizing that her pain was also the pain of her comrades and vice versa, she felt connected. She felt friendship that extended past just keeping her safe. And she felt loved. She and these 5 other people were learning to hope.
She continued to fumble despite now having a strong foothold in these people she traveled with. But even after getting angry with each other they all began pushing one another in the right direction. Again she was reminded that she had a country to save, but not in the previous way she had thought. She would save her country still, and in any way she could, but not with raw power Archades had once used. She would do so with a new perspective, and would learn that even in the enemy country there were people who wanted peace. On and off additions to their company would remind her of the world outside Dalmasca, especially when it came to the young Archadian emperor. So young, but such a heart for peace. And even though she was a little skeptical because she knew that one day he would not be as innocent or pure as a 12 year old child, she also knew that for someone of 12 he was very aware of who he was and what he could do. It was time she realized the same about herself.
She doesn't pause in her efforts as she treks onward, not bothering to stop for a moment to realize what she is becoming even though it would've made her happy. Her companions see that she is no longer so prideful, although she still has dignity wherever she goes. She has bound herself to her duty, and has done so with great honor and more courage than she will ever know. They see that she has always been and is still a fighter, strong and able even though she doesn't always look it. For these reasons, they have cause to smile when they look upon her. And with quiet reverence, they draw their blades alongside her as she prepares to bring Vayne Solidor to justice not just for Dalmasca, but for all of Ivalice.
Now, hundreds of years later, people still read of and admire the lovely and wise queen of Dalmasca. She was strong, skilled, had wisdom paired with cunning, and had more than enough kindness to be human in people's eyes. But many knew she was not like any other human. She was a singular woman among seas of men, an impeccable being of excellence, a testament of sheer willpower and a set of brilliant brains. But what some fail to realize is that Queen Ashelia B'Nagin Dalmasca did not accomplish what she did because she was on her own.
She accomplished what she did because she was never alone.
I never thought I'd get to write anything centered around Ashe, but here I am!
At first when I played the game, I wasn't a large fan of Ashe. Her attitude kind of bothered me, but later on I realized that she was indeed very remarkable, and she had a lot of strength for someone who'd lost so much. Brave girl!
Let me know what you think of this. Any critiques and comments are most welcome! If you feel like this could use a little something more or if it just flopped altogether, feel free to tell me. (Just do so appropriately please...)
Other than that, I hope you liked reading this! ;D