Chapter 4 – The Woman in the Mirror
It was a familiar place, one she'd seen often. Bright lights and colours abounded from nowhere, painting the bizarre landscape all the colours of the rainbow and more. The surreal land was completely devoid of life, bar her, and welcomed her with birdsong. There were no birds to be seen, none in the trees, none in the sky but they sang on regardless. Captivated by the lush green of the sky, she saw there was no sun, no moon and no stars, just an endless expanse of green. She walked through fields of tall grass the colour of blood, no destination in mind, simply enjoying the light tickling sensation as the grass brushed her bare legs. She smiled.
Here, she could gaze out over creation and be happy. With no-one to tell her what to do, no trappings of society to bind her, she was her own woman, free to do as she pleased.
So she dreamed.
A part of her knew it wasn't the real world. A quiet, dormant part of her knew that the wind she could feel on her face, the faint tang of cinnamon on the air, the springiness of the ground beneath her feet were all constructed. But she didn't care. She walked through endless fields, gently humming a tune half forgotten from her childhood and she knew peace. And that was more important than knowing whether the grass tickling her legs was real or not.
"Ashelia."
Some phantasmal voice crowed her name and she felt the world shake. No, it wasn't the world that shook. It was her. The sky began losing its warmth, the wind its taste and the ground its colour, all bleeding away into nothingness. She stood and watched them go. As though the landscape was a person, she waved at it in parting, tears prickling her eyes as the only expression of her fear that she would never see it again.
"Ashelia."
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She awoke to find her eyes quite dry. Her hands automatically wiped at her face, but the tear trails she'd expected to find weren't there. That surprised her a little. The dream had felt ever so real, like she'd really been there, like she'd actually experienced those emotions.
But it was only a dream, nothing to be distressed about. Tucking the thought away, Ashe sleepily wondered where she was. Then her ceiling greeted her with comfortable familiarity, reminding her in subtle overtures that she was in her bedroom. Shaking her head, as if to send the after effects of the dream away, Ashe groaned to herself. Noticing her sudden thirst, she turned on her side, reaching for the pitcher of water on the nightstand. Her fingers were just grasping the handle...
Then someone touched her shoulder.
She started in fright, the unexpected contact making her knock the jug to the floor. It shattered audibly as it hit the ground. As it did, Ashe quickly whipped her head around to see who the now retracted hand belonged to.
The fright quickly passed and she suddenly felt silly. Without any form of grace, she rolled onto her back, the sheets bunching up around her and enclosing her in a tight cocoon. Her eyes met with those of the person sharing her bed.
It was only Malis.
He was holding a glass of water, half empty. The rest of the contents were currently wetting him and the bedclothes.
"I thought you might be thirsty," he ventured.
Ashe untangled herself from the sheets and sat up against the headstand.
"Thank you." She plucked it from his hand and within one unladylike gulp the glass was empty. The water had been slightly warm but just what the doctor ordered. She made to refill the glass before remembering that she'd broken the pitcher.
Rolling the glass between her hands, she turned to meet Malis' eye, but he was looking at the ceiling with his gaze glazed over. She stared at her hands, particularly at the wedding band on her third left finger. "Why are you awake anyway?" she asked.
He twitched, as though the question pained him. "You were tossing and turning. Whatever it was you were dreaming it was either very good or very bad."
"Yes…" The glass continued to roll around in her palms as the conversation petered out into uncomfortable silence. They sat there like that for some time, saying nothing.
Unable to stand the quiet, Ashe switched on the light and got out of bed. Kneeling down, she quickly picked up the pieces of broken glass, dumping the smaller shards into the half-intact base of the jug. Once she'd got them all, Ashe placed the remains at the foot of the nightstand and walked over to the window, restless now. The dark clouds obscured the sky, shedding no natural light on the city below. Very few lights blazed through the darkness. Unlike Archades, most of Rabanastre (save the East End) slept at night.
She rested her hands on the curve of her stomach, feeling the familiar softness of her cotton nightgown against her palms and tried to think of nothing.
"Are you alright Ashelia?" Malis asked from the bed.
"Yes, I'm fine." He didn't ask again but he probably knew she was lying. She only ever used the phrase when she wasn't fine. The last foggy remnants of sleep dispersed and she could think clearly. Now knowing she wouldn't get back to sleep easily, she analysed her memory of the day now passed. One event, the only event of note, hogged the spotlight.
Ashe had been in the middle of a meeting with the Small Council. The subject of discussion had been a death threat, aimed at her. The Landis Insurgency apparently considered her their enemy for fraternising with the Archadians. They vowed to make her pay unless she pledged her support for their cause. This was nothing new. Since her ascendancy, she'd received many threats of assassination, so often in fact that she brushed them off as mere nuisances now.
But in the middle of the Council's assessment of the issue, the doors had opened and her handmaiden Larina had stepped in. Walking over to Ashe's side, without any compunction or shame for not knocking first, she relayed a message. It had been brief, what she'd whispered into Ashe's ear, but it still turned her world upside down.
Larina told her that Judge Gabranth had arrived.
At the time she'd shrugged off the message and had prompted the Council to continue, not entertaining their subtle questioning about the disturbance. Then for the rest of the meeting, Ashe tried her hardest to pay attention, to drown out the voice of her own confused thoughts and feelings. In the end, she'd failed miserably. She pondered whether she should be happy or angry. She didn't know what she could possibly say to him in either instance. For one of the first times since her crowning, she just didn't know what to do. And she hated that.
The day had passed in a haze. The evening had passed with bleeding knuckles, a one-sided argument and dinner. Ashe had looked at him and she didn't know any longer what it was she saw. Was he still a friend? Was he still her protector of days gone by? Or was he nothing but a shade soon to be swept away and forgotten when he returned to Archadia?
She was confused and she hated that too.
To her surprise, Ashe felt her husbands arms wrap around her waist, his hands resting on hers. Her mind had been so far away she hadn't heard him move.
"Something bothers you, my love," Malis whispered into her ear. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Her heart made a weak stir. At least there was one person in Ivalice she understood, who didn't confound her, even if his behaviour was somewhat out of the ordinary.
"You're passing bold tonight," she told him truthfully. She couldn't quite remember the last time Malis had touched her intentionally.
"Does that bother you?"
"No… no, it doesn't."
She heard the proverbial cogs working in his mind, considering behaviour he, no doubt, considered strange. Ashe had never been one for idle reflection over idle matters. It seemed to her they were both reading from different scripts, improvising and acting out-of-character that night.
"You hesitate," he told her, surprisingly forcefully. "Tell me what bothers you."
"I…" she wondered how to put her confusion into words but came up wanting. It was simply too complex to explain. "It's naught. Just something…" her voice trailed off.
"Is it to do with the Judge Magister?"
Ashe stiffened in his arms. It didn't take long for her to realize Malis had only been stabbing in the dark, luckily finding a chink in her armour. Her own reaction had confirmed the touch.
"So it is," he continued. "I know you don't approve of my countrymen. After what happened to you and your nation, that is to be expected. But I'm sure this Magister desires naught but peace with you and Dalmasca. Were it not so, my cousin would not have sent him."
"It is not that which bothers me," she told him, pleased Malis hadn't scored a touch after all.
"Then tell me what does."
Should she tell him, she wondered. Knowing she could trust Malis with almost anything, having proved trustworthy (if little else) over the last two years of marriage, Ashe toyed with the idea. But this was different. It wasn't common knowledge that Basch Fon Ronsenberg was still alive. Only a few people in all Ivalice knew the truth. The last thing she wanted, confused or not, was to ruin Basch. And did she really what to wade into that murky territory?
No, she decided. It was better kept to herself.
"I will tell you…" she lied, breaking his hold on her hands, "…in the morning."
She turned, rose on her tiptoes and kissed him on the lips. His reaction was slow, only responding after a few seconds and then in a lacklustre fashion. It was over just as quickly and they broke apart once more, moving silently to their separate sides of the bed, as if what they had just done was shameful. Truthfully, Ashe didn't know what had possessed her to do as she did.
Not for many years had Ashe ever felt farther from sleep. As Malis got into bed behind her and promptly fell asleep, Ashe continued to stare at the far wall. She felt Malis' breath tickle her neck after a while, even and steady and she envied him. Listening to the steady rhythm, focusing on nothing else, her eyelids eventually began to drop.
She closed her eyes but thought of Basch.
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It was still dark when Ashe woke up again. She must've managed to doze off eventually, despite her thoughts, though her mind obviously didn't want to let her sleep at all that night. Closing her eyes again, she rolled over onto her side, hoping the more comfortable position would help lull her back into sleep.
Then she heard the telltale creak of a floorboard.
Her eyes snapped back open. She froze, suspicious. Waiting, she heard another creak not long after. If she guessed right, the sound came from near the door. There was a light accompanying sound, cotton rubbing against cotton, magnified by the quietness of the room.
Swish-swish, pause, swish-swish, pause.
Turning around in the bed, as expected, she found herself alone. The cast off sheets and the bed beneath them were still warm on her hand. What was her husband doing out of bed? Couldn't he sleep either?
"Malis?" she asked the darkness in a low whisper.
The room went very, very quiet. The swishing sound stopped. The silence was suddenly booming in her ears. With it came a sense of foreboding. Malis would've answered. That meant only one thing.
Someone was there who shouldn't be.
Turning around again, trying to pretend she was a restless sleeper, Ashe's hand inched towards the nightstand. The glass she'd used before met her touch. It would be a pathetic weapon, best for throwing, but it would do. Her hand moved past it, feeling for the switch of the lamp. She shielded her eyes with her free hand, keeping the lids firmly shut.
Then there was light.
Sitting up like lightning, Ashe's suspicions were confirmed. There were two people in her room, dressed in dark colours. Both covered their eyes, clearly blinded. Picking out the nearest one, she aimed and threw the glass at the person's head. By chance, he (for Ashe spotted that he was a he) took a step back and it missed by an inch, shattering against the wall behind him.
Now unarmed, Ashe sprang out of the bed towards the table. The closest intruder said something but she missed it, her pulse now beating loudly in her ears, smothering all other sound. Putting her back to the wall, she took a stone paperweight off the desk. It was comfortably cold in her hand. She raised it defensively…
Then the person furthest away lowered her hand, causing Ashe to lower hers. She knew that face. It was Penelo.
Words failed Ashe as she looked from her to Vaan (who she'd thrown the glass at) and back again. Her grip on the paperweight loosened and it fell to the floor with a dull thud. The younger girl put her hands behind her back and gave a weak smile.
"Surprise!"
Ashe tried to answer but found she physically couldn't. Her voice had chosen that moment to go on its holidays, leaving her mute without any notice. All she could do was stare at the two, wondering what on Ivalice was going on.
"Now before you get mad, I can explain," Penelo said in a low voice, as though if she didn't, Ashe would spontaneously combust.
She almost did. "Mad?" Ashe's voice returned in a low tone. "You break into my palace, invade the privacy of my bedroom without even a moment's notice and you expect me not to be mad?!" Ashe said, yelling the last four words.
Penelo suddenly gained a vested interest in her shoes. "Well, yeah. …It's nice to see you by the way."
"Pleasure's all mine," Ashe managed to choke out. For quite a few moments, Ashe didn't dare say anything, focusing solely on trying to calm herself. She reminded herself that she hadn't seen either of the budding sky pirates for over a year, that this was a happy occasion. Though this was hardly the sort of circumstance in which she'd imagined she'd meet them again, it was better than nothing. And they were sky pirates after all.
"How did you get past my guards?" Ashe asked, calmed by the train of thought.
"Oh they were sleeping," Penelo said, brightly.
"Well they are now anyway," added Vaan. Penelo only sighed in exasperation as Vaan had managed to give the game away. It amused Ashe slightly, despite the gravity of the admission. She wondered if Vaan had changed at all.
"They live, yes?"
Penelo nodded. For a time after that, no-one said anything. Instead they all just stared at each other, until Penelo nudged Vaan with her elbow and whispered something to him.
Vaan reddened but Ashe couldn't tell if it was due to the situation, or to what Penelo whispered, or her own intense staring or a combination of all three.
"So Ashe," he said, his eyes not meeting hers. "Um… have you put on weight – lost, have you lost weight?"
Looking down herself critically, Ashe turned around, pretending to be affronted at his statement. Instead, she looked at herself in the mirror above the table, smoothing down her nightdress and wondering if it was really so obvious. She thought she'd barely changed at all over the last three years, aside from her hair getting a little longer and her wardrobe becoming a little grander. Looking at herself though, she saw a queen looking back at her. Her new lifestyle seemed to be showing in more ways than one, good and bad. Behind her, she heard Penelo tell Vaan off in a series of frenzied whispers which said all that needed to be said.
She looked in the mirror again and saw the two sky pirates squabbling. It reminded her of bygone days. Vaan and Penelo didn't seem to have changed at all and it brought a smile to Ashe's face. She was glad that they hadn't changed and hoped they stayed that way forever, a memory incarnate of the old times. It was almost like being back on the road again, something she'd wished for more than once since her coronation.
Vaan, Penelo and Basch, all under her roof in one night, she thought. They were two thirds of the way to a reunion.
Then her thoughts went back to Basch and her smile disappeared. Though Ashe's link with the youngest members of their party hadn't been the strongest, they'd still write or come to visit occasionally.
…Unlike some.
She turned around to find Vaan and Penelo still communicating in hushed whispers.
"Do not mistake me for being displeased to see you," Ashe said, catching their attention. She gave a little smile to help put them at ease. "But why exactly are you here?"
Vaan answered with a bright grin of his own. "Balthier and Fran are in town and they said they had some news for you and Basch that couldn't wait. So we broke in to-"
"How did you break in?" Ashe interrupted, her curiosity peaked. The palace security was the finest in all Dalmasca.
"Don't interrupt, Ashe," Vaan said, smiling before he realized what he'd just said. Again, it amused Ashe rather than offended her. Many had been the times during their travels when Ashe had said the very same thing to him. It was oddly humorous to see the tables turned. Perhaps they had both changed after all.
"Go on," she encouraged, choosing her tone carefully. She listened to how the four of them had managed to slip over the north wall when no-one was looking, knock out one or two wall guards and then descend to the grounds in an epic, blow-by-blow account. Then they'd found a servant, currently unconscious, who knew the location of Ashe and Basch's respective rooms, so they split up. Then Vaan and Penelo knocked out her door guards and crept into the room.
"I see," Ashe said, taking it all in. "Are we all supposed to rendezvous somewhere?"
"Balthier said he'd be going to your reception room on the top floor," Penelo interjected.
Ashe blinked. "How does he know the layout of my palace?"
At that, both Vaan and Penelo shrugged. Ashe supposed this wasn't only the second time Balthier had been wandering around her palace.
"I guess we should get going," Vaan said, but not moving from his place by the door.
Penelo took his arm, "We should wait in the parlour."
"Why?"
"Well I don't think Ashe wants you to see her changing."
"Oh right," Vaan put his hand to his head, a gesture Ashe remembered he'd used when he'd embarrassed himself, much like the time he'd asked Fran how old she was. Swiftly, the two sky pirates left, Penelo turning around just long enough to wink at her.
The door closed behind them and Ashe looked at herself in the mirror again. On the looking glass, a different woman looked back at her. There was a certain glaze to her eyes, a certain way she stood, a certain way she looked that was different but not unfamiliar. It hailed back to her journeying of three years ago. Though she'd been dispossessed of all she held dear, that time had been a good one, one that she missed. Unfortunately with position come trappings.
But for this night, the Queen had retired, allowing the boundless woman to come free.
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It didn't take at all long to get ready but as she did, Ashe wondered where her husband had gone precisely. Sometimes, on nights where he couldn't sleep, he'd go walking somewhere. Usually though, it was only in circles around the bedroom. He wasn't in the parlour either. So where had he gotten too?
Paying the thought no further mind, Ashe chose a dress, combed her hair and wiped the worst of the sleep out of her eyes. Her make up and jewellery box went neglected. Her curiosity and impatience were stirred and she wanted to know what news they brought. Vaan and Penelo had offered no clues. Apparently, they were as in the dark as she was.
Jotting down a small note, telling Malis where she'd gone, Ashe gave herself one last look in the mirror. The woman there approved. Putting the scrap of paper on his pillow, she smoothed down her skirts and turned away towards the door.
Sure enough, the two sky pirates waited patiently, holding a little conversation of their own, breaking off the moment she entered. Ashe pretended not to notice and ushered them out the room. When they followed her out, they made a point of not noticing the two unconscious guards on the ground. Ashe stooped down and checked their pulses, just to be sure. They were both fine, simply knocked out by a sleep mote and wouldn't be roused for hours.
Leaving them where they were, Ashe led the two upstairs to the very same reception room where she'd dined with Basch not eight hours before. Without knocking, Ashe pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The others were already there. Fran stood by the window, glancing up only for a second to acknowledge them before turning back to the view again. However, Basch sat in the same chair he'd sat in earlier. His gaze fell on Ashe immediately and didn't waver. Silently, they had a staring match as she tried to sift through her previous confusion. He looked different without his armour, like the Basch she remembered from before. Unable to decide whether that was for better or worse, she looked away.
Vaan and Penelo walked on into the room and Ashe took the opportunity to scan the chamber. As they exchanged pleasantries with Basch, only then did she notice that together they only made five.
"Where is Balthier?" Ashe asked, moving towards the table.
"Why I'm right here," said a voice behind her, causing her to start. She turned to find the man himself several paces away. "Well, well, well I never would've guessed I'd made such an impression on you, princess." He took two steps forward. "We've been here but half an hour yet here you are already here at my beck and call, made up quite lovely if I do say so myself. And the first thing you ask is where I am. I'm touched to be sure."
"I am a queen," she retorted half-heartedly, uncomfortable with his proximity.
"Well that's really just semantics, isn't it? It clouds the bigger issue."
"Which is?"
"That you've longed to hear my voice again. That you think everyday without me in your life has been a constant torment, which I'm sure it has." He took another step, took Ashe's hand and gently kissed it. "I believe there's something deep down you want to ask me, isn't there princess?"
She smiled. "There is." His eyebrows perked up. Her eyes went down trailed down to his other hand and frowned. "Is that my vase? Off my dresser?"
He took back his hand and used it to raise the vase in question. "This little thing? Well, it was yours…"
"But it's priceless," Ashe said, annoyed that he was once again stealing her property.
"I know a Rozarrian art dealer who would disagree quite strongly with you on that point, princess."
"Balthier," Basch raised his voice in warning, choosing that moment to stand up. "Return her Majesty's vase."
"Oh very well, very well if you're so insistent," he handed it to Ashe, "though I do expect some form of payment for my services."
Looking at the vase in her hands, she remembered that she'd never liked it anyway, the patterning ugly and archaic. She handed it back. "What is this news you bring?"
"Yeah we're curious about that too." That came from Vaan, gesturing to Penelo as he said it.
Ashe hadn't seen Balthier frown very often, but he did then, displeased it seemed with the question. "It's an unsavoury business, I fear. A thoroughly unpleasant affair. We bring the word of the street from Archadia, or to be more precise, from Archades."
That surprised her. Ashe looked to the other occupants of the room, gauging their reactions. Fran looked as though she was carved from stone such was her stillness beside the window. Vaan and Penelo each inched forward as though they'd get the news faster that way. It was Basch who interested her most. He left the table, his face clouded, and marched to stand before the sky pirate and at Ashe's side as a consequence.
"You were in Archades? Why?" he demanded
"To rob you blind, of course. Even an enigmatic character such as myself needs to eat on occasion. And who else shall keep my lovely partner decked charmingly in leather and steel?"
"What news do you bring?" Basch said, seemingly ignoring the sky pirate's answer.
Suddenly, as they were talking, Ashe began to feel a bout of nausea coming on.
'Of all the inopportune times.'
Clasping a hand to her mouth, fearing that she was about to vomit all over the carpet, Ashe went around the table and sat in the nearest chair. She took in a deep breath and the very worst receded. Unfortunately, she hadn't managed to do so inconspicuously. Everyone's eyes were on her.
"Ashelia, what's wrong?" Basch asked her.
Her stomach churned violently but with a grimace she shook her head, pretending she was fine. Taking in another deep breath, she fluttered her hand, not wanting to explain why she suddenly came across so ill.
"The meat was undercooked last night," she muttered, clasping her hand back to her mouth. "Pray continue," she said to Balthier.
He raised his brow but said nothing more. "Over to you Fran. I wash my hands of it."
Thankfully, all eyes turned away from Ashe to the Viera. However, the queen still noted from the corner of her eye, that Basch continued to glance at her with concern every few seconds. Fran turned away from the window, meeting the collective gaze levelly.
Fran took a few steps closer to the group. "We were in Archades not two nights past. Our business," here she paid a disapproving glance to Balthier, "isn't particularly significant. Simply put, we heard tell of a change of leadership in the city."
"A change?" Basch's voice was deadly impartial.
Balthier stepped in. "Your friend Zargabaath has taken complete control of the city and I daresay the empire as a whole. That's always the way with generals though, isn't it? Always the first to conquer."
"I don't get it," said Vaan and Penelo as one.
"Are you saying Lord Larsa had been overthrown?" Ashe asked for Basch, who no longer seemed able to speak.
"I fear not," Fran spoke up. "Lord Larsa has not just been deposed. The Empire mourns him. I am sorry. Lord Larsa is dead."
The room went still, Fran's words hanging heavily in the air.