A/N: This one's pretty Ashe-centric. Don't worry, Balthier will be back soon enough. Let me know what you think!
Dust had found its way into every crevice of her armor and burned her eyes. They had been searching the perimeter of the fallen Bahamut for three hours. The Marquis had sent fifty of his men to help go through the wreckage, and Larsa ordered several of his men under the command of Judge Zargabaath to join in the rescue efforts. Several small airships patrolled over the wreckage while teams covered the ground level.
The bodies of dozens of Archadian soldiers had been recovered, none of them alive. Several soldiers from the rescue team had already been injured by debris. Ashe climbed over a large hunk of metal, and she scanned the extent of the crash site. Jagged shards of wreckage protruded at various angles from the desert sands as the debris ranged over a large swathe of the Westersand. She was reminded of the fallen airships dotting the Ozmone Plains.
It would take days to cover even a fraction of the site, and with the number of fallen already recovered…Ashe had overheard several soldiers complaining as they scrambled through the wreckage. The princess remained unfazed, calling again and again for Balthier and Fran even as her voice grew hoarse. They had traveled to the edges of their known world and faced down countless antagonists over the past several months. A fallen ship would not be the end of them. Fran was a strong warrior, and at the very least, Ashe had never met another individual more concerned with his own self-preservation than Balthier.
At least she thought he was. The sky pirate, usually concerned only with his next treasure, had gone back to the Bahamut, and he and his partner had saved Rabanastre from annihilation. She hadn't even realized what he was doing until she heard his voice over the intercom, addressing her in his usual flippant tone. "Princess" he had said to her, "No need to worry. I hope you haven't forgotten my role in this little story. I'm the leading man. You know what they say about the leading man…he never dies."
Searching through the wreckage, Ashe prayed that he was right. She knew Balthier and Fran had been working on the glossair rings when he last spoke with her. If only she could find where that part of the Bahamut now rested! Her hours of searching had led her far into the middle of the wreckage, despite pleas from both Vaan and Penelo that she let the soldiers do so. Her friends had insisted they accompany her if she was going to put herself in harm's way.
Vaan had seen a heavy sign a few paces back that had engine schematics on it. Perhaps she was getting closer? Quickening her pace despite her growing exhaustion, she raced forward. Penelo called out a warning, but it came too late as Ashe slipped on a piece of metal, landing hard. A jagged remnant slashed her legs, and her hands had landed in shards of broken glass. Vaan hurried forward and knelt beside her. "Ashe, are you okay?"
Ashe surveyed her wounds wordlessly. Nothing a quick spell couldn't alleviate, so she struggled to her feet with Vaan's help. Penelo met up with them, catching her breath. "Ashe, you're hurt! We have to go back," the girl cried, admonishing her friend's reckless behavior. Ashe shook Vaan's arms off and hobbled forward, pulling small pieces of glass from her hands.
"I'm fine, Penelo. We can't rest until we find them. They could be trapped or hurt, and we can't just stop looking because we're tired." She resumed her cries for her comrades as Vaan and Penelo exchanged sad looks. Penelo began chanting a healing spell to lessen Ashe's injuries as Vaan followed the princess warily, joining her shouts for Fran and Balthier with his own. The trio continued in this fashion for another long hour. They had found several more bodies, but still no sign of the sky pirates.
Evening was creeping closer to the desert, the temperature cooling steadily as the minutes passed. The sun had almost fully set, and stars began appearing in the reddened sky. Vaan and Penelo were exhausted but continued trudging after the determined princess. Ashe felt the sting in her hands and the back of her legs as she continued walking. She overturned several large pieces of debris with her injured hands, but it was slow going. The dropping temperatures raised goosebumps on her arms, and she grew lightheaded from the hours of searching without rest. She had almost completely forgotten about their brutal battle against Vayne earlier that day, so preoccupied was she with her pursuit.
"Please, Ashe. We can't keep this up, and it's getting late," Penelo called from behind her. Ashe turned to face the girl, finally noticing how exhausted she was. Her braided hair was unraveling and plastered to the sides of her face with sweat. Vaan looked no better, covered in dust and sporting several cuts on his arms from moving rubble for hours.
"Penelo's right," Vaan continued, "We're no use to them if we get ourselves killed out here. Besides, you need to get to Rabanastre. You need to take charge of Dalmasca."
Ashe's eyes welled up, but she would not allow tears to fall. She knew in her heart that Vaan and Penelo were right. She had placed them in danger, and for all she knew, Fran and Balthier could have escaped and were waiting for them all along. But what if they hadn't? She let that thought trail off as she regarded her exhausted friends standing before her. This whole battle had been to reclaim Dalmasca, had it not? It would not do for her to shirk her duties when she was needed most by her people. She unconsciously rubbed the ring on her finger. "I'm the leading man," she heard Balthier's whimsical voice in her head, "…he never dies."
She limped slightly, but walked past Penelo and Vaan, heading back in the direction of the Garland. "He never dies," she muttered to herself as she trekked back. She repeated it again and again as her companions followed behind. He never dies…never dies. The leading man never dies.
Night had completely fallen on the Westersand when the princess and her friends returned. They reached the triage area set up by Ondore's crew with assistance from the Archadians. Ashe smiled inwardly as the two groups worked together so readily when earlier that very same day they had borne arms against one another. Perhaps there would be lasting peace in Ivalice after all. A medic rushed to her side as she approached. "Lady Ashe! You are injured!"
She waved the medic off, "It is nothing. I would see the Marquis immediately." The medic nodded and pointed her to where the Garland was moored. A tent had been set up, and it appeared that caravans of medical supplies and armor for the search parties were arriving from Rabanastre. She offered a prayer of thanks for Ondore's assumption of command in her absence, and a degree of guilt gnawed at her as she realized she should have taken charge and not rushed off into the wreckage.
Vaan and Penelo went to see what assistance they could provide in triage as Ashe entered her uncle's tent. The Marquis was talking heatedly with his ministers about getting volunteers from Rabanastre to search the wreckage since there was so much ground to cover. Other ministers were arguing about obtaining food, water and other supplies with merchants. One of the ministers noticed her entrance and bowed humbly before her, "Marquis, the Lady Ashe returns."
Ondore asked everyone to take their business outside, and then he was alone with his niece. Ashe reddened and looked at her feet. "I apologize, Uncle Halim. I should have been directing these efforts."
He waved his hand and shook his head. "Nonsense, were I you, I'd have done the same. They were your friends."
"You will not speak of them in such a manner. They have not yet been found, so we cannot presume they are dead!" Ondore nodded. He walked up and put a comforting arm around Ashe's shoulders.
"For now, my dear, you must allow yourself to rest. We will begin our search again at first light. And I would strongly suggest you enter the city tomorrow so that your people can see you. You have done so much for them today; I do not see them holding a grudge for your delay." Ashe looked to the floor and sighed resignedly. She allowed her uncle to lead her onto the Garland to private quarters.
She stretched out on the bunk and tried to think about the day ahead. Peace was reached in Ivalice, and she could finally take the throne that was rightfully hers. She would get to live in the Royal Palace where she grew up after spending two years dwelling in the sewers beneath it. There was so much to be done, but Ashe couldn't stop thinking about her friends. It had been hours since the crash, and they had not been in contact. But it was not befitting of her new role to dwell on the day's events; she had to instead look to the future. They were bound to turn up soon. Fran would be stoic as ever, and Balthier would tease her for worrying so much. She let her exhaustion carry her off to sleep.
Sunlight crept in through the porthole as Ashe awoke on the Garland. She finally looked to the wounds she had received in her fall the previous day. Penelo's healing had helped a great deal, but her hands were covered in small cuts from the shards of glass, and the backs of her legs were caked in dried blood. She cleaned herself up, and left the ship to approach her uncle's tent. She saw a figure inside, tall with large white ears. Could it be…Ashe wondered as she raced to the tent.
"Fran! Fran! Thank the gods you're safe, we were beginning to worry…" Ashe began, but her voice trailed off as the viera turned around and was revealed to be a member of Clan Centurio come to help rather than her close comrade. Ashe apologized profusely to the viera and approached her uncle sadly.
"We still have not heard from your friends," the Marquis began, "but our efforts have been ongoing since sunrise. We have received hundreds from the city who wish to aid in the search and to start clearing rubble out of the Westersand so caravans will not be interrupted."
Ashe nodded solemnly. "What of Vaan and Penelo? I trust they were able to rest?" Ondore nodded and told her that the children had returned to the city already to inform friends of their triumph, and to start spreading word of Ashe's return.
"Captain fon Ronsenburg…er, Judge Gabranth rather, has tendered his apologies, but he has departed for Archades with Lord Larsa. They felt it best to leave immediately to have the young lord confirmed as emperor so there would be no civil war. They left some troops here to assist our efforts," Ondore continued. Ashe knew she would desperately miss Basch's counsel, but he now had a promise to keep to his deceased brother, and she would respect that.
"Then it is time for me to enter Rabanastre," Ashe said slowly, fully realizing what this meant to her. She straightened her shoulders and met her uncle's gaze. "I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your assistance, and I would request that you continue to head up these efforts. I must head to the palace and address my people." The Marquis nodded and gave her hand a squeeze.
"A new time has come for Ivalice, Highness. Worry not at all about our efforts here. Go now, claim your rightful place and show Dalmasca she is finally free." Ashe smiled at her uncle's kind words and left the tent accompanied by a small retinue of resistance troops. She was given a beautifully plumed chocobo to enter the city upon, and she rode steadily towards the gates of the city. No, her city, she corrected herself with a grin.
Ashe sat alone in the large royal dining room, picking at her food. Archadian banners still littered the room, reminding her of how little time had yet passed since their defeat of Vayne the day before. The day had gone remarkably well. She was cheered by crowds of people as she entered the city and headed to the palace. Ashe was reminded of her wedding procession a few years back, full of smiling faces and boisterous musical fanfare. Ondore's doing no doubt, she thought. He had been quite busy the past two days.
Upon arriving at the palace, she addressed the gathered thousands. Ashe had not prepared anything, but she spoke of change and lasting peace and the rise of Dalmasca after its years of being conquered. She was surprised at how welcoming her people were considering she had been declared dead before and all of a sudden she reappeared before them. This gave her hope for a smooth transition of power from the Archadians to herself and a council she supposed she had better start gathering together.
But even with all this happy news, her heart remained heavy. She raised a glass of Bhujerban madhu to her lips, letting the warm alcohol trickle down her throat. Balthier and Fran had not been found after an entire day of searching. If they were indeed trapped in the wreckage, her uncle had warned her, there was very little chance they'd have survived a second day without rescue. The princess shoved the plate of food away and leaned back in her seat. She was queen in all but official title, showered with praise and given a victor's feast, but she was miserable.
Ashe had convinced her uncle to continue rescue efforts through the rest of the week. She knew he acquiesced only out of kindness, but she was grateful that he did not say as much. Another sip of madhu and Ashe allowed darker thoughts to sink in. She pictured her comrades racing for escape pods but getting trapped by falling debris. Every scenario she envisioned ended with a cloud of dust, a cry of surprise, and then silence. Another sip of madhu.
An old minister of her father's, Tylo or Lyto, she could not recall, had appeared out of the woodwork that afternoon. Years hiding in Lowtown had left the man broken, but the sight of the very much alive princess drew him out of the underground. He offered his services immediately, for which Ashe was duly grateful, and the old man also composed a list of other potential ministers that would help Ashe set up a new government. Only once the country was on solid, entirely Dalmascan-run footing could she even consider a coronation for herself. Ceremony would come later; her people's immediate needs were first.
Old man Tylo's list lay on the table beside her plate, and she truly meant to start to work on it, but she could not get her mind off of the Bahamut. She knew that if she moved so many paces to the balcony, she would be able to see the wreckage standing in the desert, a constant reminder of how close Rabanastre came to destruction. Another sip of madhu for that.
This was wrong. It was all wrong, she thought as she set the empty wine glass down on the table. She and her companions should be celebrating together this night, but instead she sat alone in a near empty palace drinking to excess. Vaan and Penelo celebrated the liberation of their country with their friends in Lowtown. Basch was en route to Archades, and her other friends were missing. Only a smattering of servants that had been in the employ of Vayne now inhabited the palace.
Ashe took the parchment in her hands and tried to seriously consider the list of potential ministers. The madhu had calmed her jittery nerves, but it also prevented her from concentrating. Her eyes met the page in front of her, but the words blurred together. Experience in financial operations…former war counselor to your lord father…devoted to ending piracy in the homes of wealthy Dalmascans…
I'll not choose that last one, she mused, thinking of how close she had become with two pirates in particular. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine them there in the dining room with her. Fran was impossible for her to conjure since she was always so quiet, but Balthier... Balthier was quite easy to imagine. She saw him perched on the table, picking morsels of food off of her discarded plate without shame.
"So sad, princess. Why, you'd think I up and died on you," the sky pirate teased as he held a cream-covered dessert in his palm. He considered the dessert briefly before taking a bite. "Rule number one of your new government, milady," he said between bites, "before you deal with trade negotiations and military budgeting and all that nonsense, you hire a new palace baker, because I've had better food cooked by dirty street urchins in Old Archades." She smiled to herself. Not only was she imagining him in the room with her, she was giving him a running sarcastic commentary!
She let her imagined Balthier continue eating while she thought of where the real one could be. In the past, it had at least been very clear. Basch had returned from Nalbina with her husband's body, his lifeless form an obvious indication that he was gone from her life. But this was not right. Living or dead, she had no idea. Trapped under rubble or flying the skies, gasping for air or munching on her supper, she could not be sure.
But she would not admit what she felt to be true, not yet. Let the search continue and let the Archadian soldiers be properly buried. She could live in denial at least another few days. That would enable her to function enough to start getting a council together. Then she could sit back a little and let others bear some responsibility as well. She felt disgusted at this train of thought, but she felt she was in the right. Her imagined Balthier hopped off the table and walked behind her chair. He leaned his arms on the top of the chair and peered down at her.
She leaned back and let him meet her eyes. "Where are you? Are you safe?" she asked him. She only received a wolfish grin in return. Ashe sighed and searched his eyes. "What are these feelings I'm having? I feel like I've lost something I didn't realize I possessed." The grin widened, but still no reply. The imagined sky pirate placed a hand on her shoulder, then gave it a gentle squeeze. What was going on with her?
"I can't believe I'm talking to myself. Tomorrow, Balthier. Tomorrow I'll make sense of this," she said, referring to the list she still held in her hand. But she knew that that was not all she had to make sense of now. She rose from her seat and headed for her bedchamber. This would all be dealt with tomorrow.
