A/N: Many thanks out to my lovely reviewers: kissychan, Baschashe, Earisu, Feeny, and Drink. Juice. You all are very much appreciated. :)

This chapter it took me forever to decide what timeframe I wanted to write. There are just so many to choose from, and I wanted to do some from in-game, so ultimately that's what I went with. ;) It also took me forever to get it posted because my co-writer and I are doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) for our third original novel, which basically means I'm writing like a crazy fiend through the month of November. And I do have a family to take care of and spend time with. ;) Yay for caffeine!

Also, a note on Ashe's rings: I know that common consensus is that Balthier took Ashe's wedding ring, but I fail to see that. He took the ring on her second finger, not her ring finger. The ring she was wearing in the balcony flashback with Rasler was what I always assumed to be her wedding ring, and it's not the one Balthier took. Which always made me curious about her other ring. ;)

Year 706

After the destruction of the Leviathan and the Archadian fleet, returning to Rabanastre had seemed the best course of action. They had to be careful about it, of course, but even though they had to lay low--for Ashe and Basch were presumed dead by some and were wanted by others--Ashe was glad to be back in the city, if even for a brief respite. Everything about it reminded her of home--the smells of the desert air, a hint of rain drifting in from the Giza Plains; the hot sun warming her skin, the familiar banter of the merchants and citizens along the city's thoroughfares. Though she had suffered great pain and loss in this city, she had also experienced great love and joy, and she only had to set foot in it to be reminded of the many reasons she was fighting so hard to restore her kingdom.

The weary party made their way to an empty house that Ashe knew was kept by members of the resistance for anyone who had need of it, hoping that it might at this time be empty. They tried to move inconspicuously through Rabanastre, all of them fully aware of the Archadian soldiers at every turn.

It wasn't long before they reached their sanctuary, and Ashe was relieved to discover it was currently empty. The group made their way inside, dropping bags, armor, and weapons near the door, while Balthier immediately went in search of a bath.

Part of Ashe was glad for some rest, but the larger part was restless and anxious. So much had happened. There was still so much to be done, and she had no idea what her next steps should be. She was wrestling with herself. She was always wrestling with herself lately; she didn't seem to be able to avoid it. She still wondered how she had ended up in her quest to restore her kingdom with two sky pirates, two street orphans, and…

And Basch.

There were so many things weighing on her mind. So much had happened the past weeks that had forced her to question everything she had believed to be true, everything that she had expected or thought trustworthy, and now she was just doing everything she could to plunge onward and somehow keep her feet at the same time.

The whirlwind events of the past days had left her in a perpetual state of heightened awareness, one with which she was very familiar. She had found over the years that with every increasing loss, with every tragedy, every death and betrayal, she no longer grew numb and distant, but instead was driven forward by sheer determination and relentless tenacity.

She had not slept well in days, and was thoroughly drained. She tried to rest, hoping that maybe sleep would claim her and give her even a brief respite from her thoughts, but it was to no avail. Finally, as evening fell, Vaan and Penelo slipped out of the safehouse to visit Lowtown; apparently they wanted to check up on the younger orphans living there. Still exhausted and feeling a bit stifled, Ashe gave up on the idea of sleep and stepped outside to sit on the single stair in front of the door, staying in the shadows so that anyone glancing her way would simply see her silhouette. The darkening night aided her in that respect, and for a time, Ashe simply watched the people. Most shops were closing for the night, and their owners and employees were making their way home. The occasional soldier passed by, not sparing a glance toward her. And the children. Always children, everywhere.

The door creaked open, and Ashe wasn't surprised to hear Basch's voice. "Lady Ashe."

She glanced at him, standing at attention by the door, and was suddenly flooded with a hundred other memories of moments very similar to this. Back when she had a throne and he was not considered a traitor. Back before both of them had been proclaimed dead. Sometimes, lately, she thought that things were not so different. He had, in the strangest twist of fate, ended up right where he had left off as her protector. Yet there was no doubt that everything had changed. Not just in Archadia's schemes forcing them both out of their home, but in who they had both become.

"Basch." She hesitated a moment, and then motioned to the step. "Will you sit?"

Basch slowly sat beside her, staring, as she did, out at the street. After a moment, he said, "I had not realized how many children were orphaned until after my escape from Nalbina."

"There are many. Far more than there should ever be, thanks in no small part to how many of their parents died when the Archadians took over the city," Ashe replied, equally quiet. "Most are so very young." She always ached for them at that thought, wondering if they would grow up remembering their parents at all, or if all they would have were memories of war and soldiers.

Ashe glanced at Basch out of the corner of her eye. No, they certainly were not the same people they had been. They were both disillusioned. They both had more sharp edges than they had two years earlier when they had last parted.

"It took a very long time," she found herself quietly saying. Basch looked at her, but she kept her eyes focused straight ahead. "When Vossler came to take me from the palace, when he told me that you had betrayed us all…I couldn't believe it. I…could not. It did not matter to me that there had been eyewitnesses. I trusted you more than anything someone could tell me you had done. I knew--I had thought I knew you better."

There was a moment of silence, and then Basch said slowly, "It was Reks. Vaan's elder brother--a brave and loyal young man if ever I met one. Much like his brother. They fooled him. He fooled him."

She knew. After Vossler had first left her in Basch's care in Bhujerba, she had finally, finally been able to demand answers of him. Had finally learned that when Basch had told her he lost a brother to Archadia, he had meant that his brother had joined Archadia. It had been quite jarring to learn that there was another man, now a judge in Archadia, who looked exactly like Basch. She had wished, briefly, that Basch had told her--told someone--that he had an identical twin brother. If she had known, then Archadia could not have used the ruse of Basch as a traitor to take Dalmasca.

"I am a fool," she whispered, twisting her rings around her fingers. She wore two of them still--her wedding band, and beside it, her mother's own wedding band, which her father had worn around his neck until the day he left for the treaty signing at Nalbina Fortress. On that day, he had turned the ring over to Ashe, and it had been then that she knew her father was just as uncertain of the treaty's outcome. The rings now served as reminders of why she fought. Of why she pressed on relentlessly toward a goal that many believed would be impossible. "After everything," she said slowly, "after all that happened, still I trust. Though my trust has been shattered and put back together, I still…" She shook her head.

"That does not make you a fool."

"Does it not? I spent two years believing I had misplaced my trust in you. I was--" Here, she hesitated. Those first months had been nearly unbearable. Once she had accepted Basch's betrayal, she had been stricken with anger, but more than that, with pain beyond belief. She had been utterly alone, except for Vossler, and she had never connected with him as she always had with Basch. Vossler had always been more impetuous, less patient. At times she had been frustrated with Vossler simply because he wasn't Basch, which had then made her frustrated with herself. Why, she had asked herself, was she mourning the loss of someone who had murdered her father? She should be glad he had been executed for what he had done to Dalmasca.

Yet she had only hurt worse.

She did not speak these thoughts aloud, but Basch was studying her shrewdly, and she'd not have been surprised if he already knew all that had passed through her mind. He had always seen more of her than she tried to let people see.

"They told me you had killed yourself," Basch told her, his eyes growing distant.

Ashe had considered that he might have heard such, and she now found herself asking, "Did you believe it?"

"No." He shook his head, his eyes clearing, and said, "There were times I wondered. It was easy to doubt and question when trapped in darkness, but I could not believe that of you."

Ashe looked down at hands, fiddling with her rings again. "You had more faith than I."

"Do not blame yourself for that."

"Who else am I to blame? Archadia may have created the lies, but I believed them."

There was another silence, but not an uncomfortable one, as together they watched a little girl and little boy race by, heading for the stairs into Lowtown, both laughing. Ashe gazed at them, wondering in their ability to seem so happy in the midst of the turmoil that had engulfed Rabanastre for so long.

"I do not know what to do for Dalmasca," she said softly. "There continue to be…strange events at play." How else did she explain seeing Rasler's ghost in Raithwall's Tomb? Or after the destruction of Archadia's fleet, Rasler's ghost handing her the dawn shard? "Yet I do not know what to make of them. And Vossler…" A sharp pang of anger and aching, this one much duller than it once would have been, before life had beaten her over the head with lessons of broken trusts and impending deaths.

"Vossler did what he thought best for Dalmasca. And for you," Basch said.

"I know. It does not make what he did right."

"No, my lady."

"He did not believe I had another choice." Ashe looked directly at Basch. "Do you?"

Basch continued to study her, and he was quiet for so long that she thought he wasn't going to answer. Then he said, "I must believe so."

"On board the Leviathan," Ashe began slowly, "when first we met again." She didn't need to elaborate; there was absolutely no possibility either of them would ever forget that momentous meeting. "You told me you would have me live in shame, if that was my duty."

Basch again met her eyes squarely. "Aye, my lady."

Perhaps others would not fully understand how significant it was that the first thing Basch had really said to her after their two year separation was that. It had not occurred to her at that moment, because she had been too confused, agonized, and furious. It wasn't until much later that she had reflected on it and realized exactly what he had said to her. He had not stood up and defended himself, had not tried to tell her he was innocent. He had accepted her anger and blame, and had done exactly what he had done for as long as she had known him: he had tried to set her on her feet. He had not wanted her to shirk her duty to her people because it could bring personal shame to her. Not because he did not care for her, but because he cared for her enough to want her to be a good ruler. He loved Dalmasca as she did and his words to her that day were evidence of his own willingness to live in shame should it aid their country.

"You have given so much to Dalmasca," Ashe said. "I fear it is a debt that cannot be repaid."

"I need no repayment," Basch replied. "It will be enough to save Dalmasca. It will be enough to restore you to your rightful place so that you may restore our home."

Ashe studied his profile in the darkness, then stood to her feet. Basch rose with her, and she said very quietly, "You have given so much to me, and I know it is a debt I cannot repay." Before he could answer that, she said quickly, "I believe I shall try to sleep now. Good night, Basch."

He began, almost reflexively, to bow to her, and she caught his arm to stop him. Gray eyes met blue, and she whispered, "Do not bow to me."

His eyes were intense as he straightened and nodded once. "Yes, my lady."

She twisted the handle on the door and pushed it open, and his voice followed her as she stepped through it. "Good night, Ashelia."

Fran and Balthier were sitting at the table inside the house, drinking the rum they had procured on an earlier visit to the Sandsea. She turned down Balthier's offer for a drink and lay down, feeling very strange. The image of Basch's eyes was burned into her mind, the intensity behind his gaze, and it remained there even when she shut her own eyes.

It was the first time she began to realize just how much and how deeply she loved Basch, though she could not yet admit it, even to herself.