And they lived...

Ashe finds Basch standing in the doorway of the reading room, watching Noah from afar as he receives his daily lessons. She approaches quietly, certain that Noah doesn't know he is being observed. She doesn't want him to know – since she is so often pulled away from him by her duties as queen, which seem particularly time consuming of late, and she gets to watch him, just watch him, so rarely now.

Basch had not even turned when he addresses her. "He's such a gentle soul," he whispers as she wraps her arms around his waist from behind. She presses a kiss to the exposed flesh of his bicep beneath his sleeve. "Look at how still he is. He just sits there and listens, soaking in everything the tutor says."

"He's always been like that. He knows when to calm down and focus and when to have fun."

"You do not think he feels… confined, as you did?"

Ashe sighs. "He is confined, but not as I was. I had one parent most of my life. He has two who spend as much time with him as possible. He has a sense of family that I never had."

"I tried so hard," Basch says, pulling her around to his side. She leans into him, watching as Noah runs his fingers across the page of a book, sounding out the words. His shaggy blonde hair falls across his face, his lips curve up in a smile as he succeeds at something. He is just as Ashe would have imagined Basch at that age – kind and intelligent, excelling at everything while retaining an extraordinary sense of humility.

"I know you did. I don't know who I would have become without you."

"I worried about you so… especially after you realized your mother was not coming back."

Ashe closes her eyes, remembering the day of that revelation so clearly. It had come two years after her death, and Basch, who had not even met the woman, had been charged with dealing with her tears.

"I am sorry, Ashe," Raminas says, kneeling before his daughter, his robes pooling around him at his knees. "I do not wish you leave you, but these peace talks must go on. You will understand when you are older."

Ashe is told this often. Basch watches her from a distance from the door, his arms folded across his uniform. She looks up at him for guidance, and he nods in agreement with Raminas. She, in turn, nods at her father and offers him a fake smile of understanding.

"Yes, sir," she says.

"I will see you on Sunday, yes."

"Mm hmm." She nods at him and feels the ribbon slipping from her hair.

"Behave for Basch."

"I always do."

As Raminas begins to leave, Ashe takes a few steps to follow him. A question has plagued her for weeks, though she doesn't know why. "Will mommy be coming back with you?"

Raminas pauses at the door. She sees Basch look at him out of the corner of his eyes – her father turns his head just a bit and looks to the guard. She does not know what happens, but her father sweeps from the room without answering – without even looking back at her.

Basch closes the door behind the king, then turns to Ashe. She looks up at him, confused, her head tilted to the side. She pulls the ribbon from her hair, letting it fall down around her shoulders, just like her mother used to wear hers.

"Basch, when will my mother be coming back."

"Ashe, don't you remember?"

She frowns at him. She's seven now and her memories from the past few years are becoming fuzzy. She remembers her mother – her face and her laugh and the way she used to hold her – and she knows her mother died – that she was upset and scared and she'd cried. There had been many people in black, and she remembers her mother in a casket – at least, that's what Vossler had told her it was called – but she does not understand what any of it meant. She wonders if she did at the time.

"I remember that she died."

"And do you know what that means?"

"Daddy said it means you go to sleep and you're somewhere else for a while. But when is she coming back?"

Basch sighs and kneels on the floor before her. It is not the way her father kneels – on one knee and at a distance. Basch pulls her close so that she is at his eye level, and even at seven she knows how handsome he is – at she imagines herself several years down the road as an adult, still with him. Though she has changed in her mind, he has not, for Basch will always be as perfect as he is now.

"Do you ever listen to your own heartbeat?" He takes her hands in his as he always does. They are always warm and rough – something Ashe likes. It makes him different.

"Sometimes… kind of."

"Well," he holds her hands up to the center of his chest and presses them there. "Everybody has a heart and a heartbeat, right?"

"Right."

"Well, the way I was taught to think of it is that every person's heartbeat is energy that the fates have given them. It keeps us moving and keeps us alive. But everybody's heart stops beating – sometimes after just a few years, sometimes after many, many decades, you understand?"

"Maybe."

"The fates take that energy back from everyone and everyone dies when that happens. The body stops working. But you know what?"

Ashe is beginning to understand, and she can feel the tears in her eyes. He's telling her that her mother isn't coming because the fates took her heartbeat away.

"What?"

"That's just the body. Everything else – your soul and everything you feel? That survives and it goes somewhere else – to a place where you are young and well and happy and with those that you love. And when you want to, you can come back and live another life."

"So… my mommy is out there somewhere as someone else?"

"Maybe. Or maybe she is waiting for you on the other side. You will see her again."

"Are you sure?" Her tears spill over, and Basch pulls her close, sitting on the floor so that he is lower than her. He looks up at her and gives her an encouraging smile.

"Of course I am. Would I ever lie to you?"

She shakes her head. She knows Basch would never do anything to hurt her.

"Right."

"So mommy isn't coming back?"

"No, Ashe," he says gently. "She isn't."

"But she's somewhere and she's happy?"

"I am sure of it."

"So… so I can't be sad about it."

"You can be sad as long as you understand."

She sniffs. Her resolve to be a strong, proper princess breaks, and she begins to cry, choking out only two more words. "I understand."

Basch pulls her into his arms, and she curls up into his chest, holding her tight against him. She is safe there, she knows, protected by his strong arms and deep, melodic voice. She cries for a long time, and Basch rocks her back and forth until she calms.

"Will I die?"

"Someday, a long time from now. You needn't think of it."

"And… will you die?"

"I will," he tells her, "but you needn't think of that either."

"But… what if you leave me?"

"I will do everything in my power not to let that happen. Is that good enough?"

Ashe sniffs, turning her face into his neck. He has just showered – she can tell. His skin always smells fresh with just a hint of something that smells like cinnamon. As long as Basch says he will do everything he can… well, she supposes that has to be good enough.

"Yes."

"Good." He squeezes her tight and she laughs at him, hugging him back. "Now, what do you want to do today?"

"You were fantastic," Ashe tells him.

"You were sad for weeks after we spoke of it."

"I have always been comforted knowing that you will console the children so excellently if something were to happen to me."

"Do not speak of such things." Ashe turns her face into his chest, holding onto him tight. There has been a thought plaguing her for weeks – one she has not yet voiced.

"I am the same age as my mother was when she died. Noah is the same age as I –"

"Ashe, nothing will happen to you."

"It could be disease – something you cannot prevent."

"I would not survive without you."

"You would. For the children."

He holds her tight, leaning back against the doorframe. She rests there against him, wishing she had enough time before her next meeting to go to bed with him and sleep off her anxieties – to let him kiss them away as he always does so excellently. As he runs his hands up and down her back, she shivers – Basch knows just how to distract her – he has learned through the years. She looks up at him to see him grinning down at her.

"You shouldn't do that," she whispers to him. "You know where it leads."

"Ah, I do."

She has barely risen to her toes to kiss him, wondering if she can't push that meeting back a bit, when Noah calls for them.

"Daddy? Oh, mother, you're here too!" He stands on his chair and looks at them. "Come see? I can read a whole page!"

They sigh and laugh as they walk into the room to their son, who is so pleased with his accomplishment. Ashe takes Basch's hand, knowing they will have to wait until tonight, and gives his fingers a squeeze.

Ashe finds Basch in the palace kitchen late one night. She has just returned from a long meeting with Larsa and the Margrace family – one which was only tolerable for Larsa's humorous quips and their walks through Archades in the evenings when the Rozarrians were done ripping their polices to shreds.

"Basch?"

He turns, swallowing a large bite of his sandwich, and grins at her, setting it down on the counter.

"I was not expecting you back until tomorrow morning." He walks towards her and envelops her in his arms, wasting no time in finding her lips and kissing her. Ashe cannot suppress a bit of laughter as he does so.

"What?"

"I have something to tell you."

"What's that? We're conquering Rozarria next week?" There is a hopeful note to his voice – he has not felt much kindness since Al-Cid's proposal.

"No, no. Better."

He pretends to think. "I don't know."

"We are having another baby."

His eyes widen. "Another baby?"

"Yes. Another."

"Really?"

Ashe knows Basch has enjoyed fatherhood far more than he'd expected to – that he was more pleased with his own abilities than he'd anticipated. She had wondered if he'd be as excited about a second child – they were often so busy – but the look on his face gives her all the answer she needs.

"Really. A brother or sister for Noah."

Basch picks her up – something that bothers her more and more as he gets older, but it seems that there is little he cannot do as time goes on. "Are you excited?"

"Absolutely. I love Noah so much, how could I not want another?"

Basch kisses her, and like many of their kisses, it begins simple, but progresses into something more, and soon they are running up the stairs towards their room, laughing and clutching each other's hands.

It is the aftermath of loving one another for so long and having so much time stolen, Ashe thinks – or at least that is how she justifies it.

Noah is rummaging through the toy boxes in a desperate search for something when Basch walks in, Ashe close behind.

"What are you doing, Noah?" She folds her arms, watching their son.

"I was watching Larisa when we went for the walk today – you told me to," he says frantically. "The nurse has her now – taken her for a walk – but I've misplaced her stuffed dog. I can't find it and she can't sleep without it."

"Oh, she can't?" Basch asks. Noah rocks back onto his heels from his place on the floor and looks up at his father, defeated. There are tears in his eyes – if there is one thing Noah will not tolerate, it is his three year old sister's unhappiness, and now he has failed her.

Such a perfectionist, Basch thinks. So like his mother.

"No. Even if I were to stay with her, she would not sleep. It is my fault. I have to find it."

Basch chuckles a bit and hands the boy the stuffed dog from behind his back. Noah's shoulders fall in relief and he walks forward, taking it from Basch. He is only eight, but he is wise and responsible beyond his years. So like his father, Ashe thinks.

"You didn't see her drop it. I did."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't think to. I am sorry."

"I should go find her… give it back."

Basch nods and watches Noah run from the room, the dog dangling from his tiny fingers.

"You were watching out for her stuffed dog?" Ashe asks.

"I learn from my mistakes."

Larisa sits atop her father's lap on the evening of her seventh birthday. Noah, newly twelve, sits on the floor with a book on his lap, listening to his father's stories.

"And that is how your mother saved Dalmasca."

"Your father helped," Ashe says from her chair across the reading room. Basch looks up to her and smiles, flecks of gray dusting his hair around the temples. "A little."

"More than a little."

Noah looks up at his father. He has heard the story so many times that he knows the holes in it – that something does not quite fit.

Basch picks up Larisa and cradles her in his arms. She is sleepy – her tiny body curled up against her father's chest. "Will I be queen like mommy?"

"You will. And your brother will be king," he tells her, carrying her from the room. Larisa wraps her arms around Basch's neck and looks up at him adoringly. She has always been attached to Basch, hanging on his every word. He longs for the day when he can stop lying to her – when he can tell her the true story of what happened – let her know that her brother is not named for his father, rather her uncle who was never given the chance to redeem himself.

But for now, he is content with her unconditional love and trust. He lays her in her bed across from her brother's and tucks her in.

She looks up at him with her mother's eyes – they both have Ashe's eyes, for which he is grateful. He does not think he could look into Noah's eyes and call him by his brother's name if he'd gained the Gabranth eyes.

At least Basch had been able to take back his last name, citing that he'd only used his mother's maiden name as a judge for respect. The children bore both last names – Dalmasca and fon Ronsenburg – something that Basch took great pride in.

"Sleep tight, my princess. And Happy Birthday," he whispers.

"Thank you, daddy. I love you."

"I love you too." He kisses her forehead and turns to leave. He motions to the guard at the end of the hallway to let him know the princess is in her room, and the man nods in understanding.

Ashe looks up when Basch returns to the room. Noah is sitting beside Ashe on the sofa, and he looks up to his father when he enters.

"What is it, Noah?"

"I am confused."

Basch takes a seat at Noah's side. Ashe smiles at him and takes his hand over the top of the sofa, squeezing it tight.

"You were an Archadian Judge?"

"Yes."

"I went to look up the Vossler Azelas you'd spoken of in the registry. I wanted to see his record, and I found something."

"A Basch fon Ronsenburg, perhaps?" Ashe asks. Noah looks to her and nods earnestly.

"Yes, ma'am."

Basch sighs. He had known this day would come, as he knows it will with Larisa, but he had not expected Noah to be the one to start the conversation.

"I think it is time he knew," Ashe says. She looks up at Basch and he knows he will do this now. Speaking of it, as rarely as they do, always weakens him, dragging up memories he would rather not dwell on, and she meets his eyes, telling him that it is okay, because when his tale is through they will put Noah to bed and she will hold him as she always does. Knowing that she will take him in her arms and protect him as he has always protected her makes the words come easier.

When Basch is done telling Noah the truth, he looks down at his son for a reaction.

"So… you were never an Archadian Judge? Before the war?"

"No. I was a knight of Dalmasca."

"And… your brother, Noah…he killed Ashe's father?"

"He was severely misguided."

"And you named me after him?"

"We told you," Ashe says, stroking back Noah's hair as he leans back into her, "Noah realized everything he'd done wrong to hurt your father. He just never had the chance to redeem himself and right his wrongs."

"How can you say that he was a good man?"

"When your Uncle Larsa comes into town next week, talk to him about it," Basch tells him. "Larsa and Noah were very good friends."

"He was Larsa's guard… like you were mom's?"

"Yes."

Ashe raises an eyebrow at him. "I doubt Gabranth ever took Larsa out for ice cream at two in the morning because he'd had a bad dream."

"He may have." Talking about this makes Basch's throat tighten in grief. It is only when his son crawls over to him and hugs him tight about the neck that it all seems worth it again.

"I want to grow up to be brave like you, dad."

Basch holds him tight, pulling the boy onto his lap. "You already are brave, son."

"I want to be a good King someday."

"You will be," Ashe assures him, rubbing his back in a way that only a mother can. Basch feels Noah unravel in his arms, relaxing into something akin to jelly. Basch chuckles and picks the boy up – slowly, because he is quite tall and strong, and Basch is not as agile as he used to be. He looks to Ashe at his side, watching as she kisses the boy's temple and they exchange goodbyes.

"I'll take him to bed. You go on."

She nods and kisses him lightly before letting him go.

Basch carries him to the bedroom and the guard opens the door for him. He lays Noah in his bed and tucks him in, stopping for a moment to look at his sleeping angels. Larisa lays curled up with her stuffed dog – he thinks she has named it York this week, after a story he'd told them of Vossler – and Noah instantly unfurls himself to take up the entire bed with outstretched arms and legs.

He watches them sleep, and when he leaves for his room, he feels lighter knowing his son finally knows his name.

Ashe waits for him patiently, and he finds her sitting on the edge of their bed. He removes his shirt, boots and belt before moving to her, lying down on the bed beside her. She moves so that he rests his head on her shoulder, and she holds him tight.

"Are you alright?" She runs her fingers through his hair, smiling at how the silver shines on her fingers.

"I am," he says. "When I think about Noah, I often think about how I'd thought my life would be when I was a boy in Landis."

"Yes?"

"I never thought that I would find myself here. I never knew my life would be so full of… everything. Happiness, grief, sorrow, love… I feel like I've truly been on an adventure."

"You speak as though you expect something horrible to happen."

"No, not at all. I am just happy to be here with you."

She runs her fingers over his jaw, and then tilts his face up to hers. "I feel the same way."

They kiss, he runs his hands over her sides, still toned from the runs they take each morning through the streets of Rabanastre before the day and duty takes her away from him. He draws her to him, letting her roll him onto his back, and suddenly he is safe from himself, trapped in the comfort of her arms.

Ashe watches Larisa run across the atrium, her arms outstretched and her impossibly long, impossibly straight blonde hair flowing behind her. She screams in delight when a tall, handsome man in Archadian robes picks her up and swings her around thrice.

"Larisa!" the man yells. Her daughter laughs even louder when he stops with a hop and holds her out at arms' length. It still astounds her how strong he is. She feels Basch move up behind her, though he makes no sound, and Noah passes her, walking calmly though she knows the boy must be beside himself with delight.

"Uncle Larsa!" Larisa yells. She hugs him again, her little arms tight around his neck. Larsa laughs and hugs her tighter. "It's so good to see you."

"It's good to see you, little one. I trust I find you well?"

"Mm hmmm."

"And your parents? They are behaving themselves?"

"Mommy pushed daddy into the pool yesterday. He was still dressed!"

"Oh did she?" Larsa looks over at Ashe and winks at her. She thinks he has regressed in maturity through the years, making up for all the fun he did not have as a child now in his late twenties. "And did someone put her in time out?"

"No. Daddy pulled her in after, though."

"Oh. Well, that's okay."

Even from a distance she can see the brightness in Larisa's eyes. She loves it when Larsa comes to visit – he brings presents.

"Have you decided to settle down yet, Larsa? Have a few children of your own?"

"Oh, why would I do that, Noah?" He always keeps the ruse alive – not once has he slipped in front of the children and called Basch by his name. "I'm waiting for this one –" he tickles Larisa a bit and watches her squirm, "to grow up so I can take her to Archadia to be my princess."

"Nuh uh!" Larisa says. "I'm going to stay here and be queen of Dalmasca, just like mommy."

"Oh, no!" Larsa cries. Ashe can see him trying to hide his grin. "What ever shall I do?"

Larisa giggles and Larsa kisses her cheek. There are times Ashe wishes they lived closer to Larsa so the children could have him as an older brother rather than an uncle. She wished she could have been there for him herself in the difficult times following the war.

But they take what they can get, and he is theirs for a week.

"Have I ever told you how much I like you name, Larisa?"

"I like yours too."

He sets her down gently on the floor, letting her cling to his hand as he addresses Noah, waiting patiently a few feet away. "Good afternoon, Noah."

"Hello, Uncle Larsa. It is a pleasure to see you."

"So proper," Larsa says. "I don't suppose you are too old to give your favorite uncle a hug, are you?"

Basch knows what Noah thinks of – the uncle that he never knew – and he hopes he does not blame Larsa – hopes Noah does not think that Larsa would ever try to take Gabranth's place. Over the top of Noah's head, Basch meets Larsa's eyes and mouths two words.

He knows.

He sees Larsa's smile falter, the memories and the truth washing back over him. He looks back down at Noah, then kneels before the boy and takes him into his arms, hugging him tight. Noah hugs him back, and Basch knows he and Larsa will be spending the evening with Noah, discussing everything.

"It is good to see you, Noah."

"And you, Uncle Larsa."

It is finally Ashe's turn, and she meets Larsa halfway, meeting his warm hug with her own. "It is good to see you well, Larsa."

"And you, Ashe."

She watches as he and Basch shake hands, then hug – a male tradition that she will never understand. For now, everyone is safe. Everyone is happy, and she cannot ask for more.

"I'm liberating Landis into your care."

The announcement over their morning coffee makes Basch choke. "Excuse me?"

"Archadia took Landis long ago. I have not liberated it before now because we were working on rebuilding it and improving the infrastructure, but Landis is sound now. She can be independent, and so I'm giving her back her sovereignty and leaving her in the care of the last known members of its founding family."

He sips at his coffee as though he had not changed Basch's life in less than thirty seconds – as though nothing had happened.

"Of course, given your marriage to Lady Ashe, it would make Landis a principality of Dalmasca, but since you are not king – what is your title?"

"King consort," Ashe supplies.

"Kind consort, yes. You could reestablish Landis however you wish. Leave it to Noah and Larisa or make it a republic in the care of Dalmasca. I would simply rather see the country free than just another district of Archadia."

"Why not establish it as a republic yourself?"

"The people would like to see a Ronsenburg return," he says simply. "I have been there – spoken with them myself."

Basch looks at Ashe and sees a knowing smile on her lips. She knows how he would love to walk back into a free Landis – to spend time there, watch their children run through its lush, green fields.

And now he can.

"I am honored, Larsa."

"And I am honored you accept the proposal. I will have the paperwork by morning."

"We could go there," Ashe tells him, "next month. We could spend a couple of weeks there."

Basch smiles at her, taking her hand under the table. After all these years, he still loves her more and more with each passing day.

The children are in bed. Ashe descends the steps of the Governor's Mansion in Ronsenburg, grateful that it looks nothing like the palace. It is simple and quaint like the capitol village – just what she would have expected from Basch's homeland.

She finds him in the den, sitting in a large armchair with a drink in one hand. He stares into the fire, watching it flicker and change before him, more relaxed than she has seen him in ages. He has not noticed her, so she stands still in the doorway for a long while, studying him.

He does not appear to be fifty, no, but she can see the time on his face. The lines around his mouth are more pronounced – though not as deep as the worry lines on his forehead, for Basch always did worry more than he laughed. There is silver in his beard and the scar above his eye has faded even more – she has hardly taken note of it in years.

He is a good father and a good husband. His partnership in rule, though he is not king in practice has been priceless, and he has served as the Archadian ambassador without complaint since he first set foot in Rabanastre – thought the position is rendered virtually obsolete, considering Larsa remains so close.

When she looks at him though, she sees past all of that, and when he smiles she can see nothing but her guard –her faithful protector and lover – as young and energetic as ever.

She steps into the room slowly, as not to startle him, fingering the short emerald skirt of the Landisian milkmaid uniform that she wears.

"I figured that since you are now technically prince of Landis, my old fantasy has been fulfilled, and I know you always thought about what it would be like if we'd both been from Landis, so this only seems fair." He looks up at her and his eyes widen in shock and amusement. "And I know you probably thought of what I'd look like in this –" she spins around, showing him the outfit in its entirety, and then finds him grinning, "but know this, Basch fon Ronsenburg:

I do not milk cows."

Noah and Larisa will be fine on their own, Ashe assures herself over and over. They are adults now, after all, newly crowned as King and Queen of Dalmasca. Their love for each other and their nation will help carry Ivalice into a new golden age, she is sure, but like any mother she is reluctant to leave them.

"They will be fine," Basch says to her, returning from the small airship to her side. As he speaks, Larisa and Noah stride into the aerodrome hangar, still dressed from their formal morning meetings. The sight of her children striding hand in hand, looking so mature and strong, brings tears to Ashe's eyes. "We will only be gone for a month. It is what you wanted. We can stay…"

"No," Ashe says, "no, a month in Landis will benefit us both."

"But we needn't go if you would rather stay."

Ashe wraps her arms around Basch's waist and feels him curl his arm tight around her shoulders, holding her close. After all these years, he still puts her wants above his own, and if she thinks on it for too long, it brings her to tears. That someone who has lost so much in life would consider her whims before his own needs? She can never doubt his love for her.

She never has.

"We will go. We will be back before they can miss us."

"You didn't think we would leave without saying goodbye, did you?" Noah calls. His deep voice echoes through the aerodrome. Basch grins at him in pride – Noah will be a father himself in several months. His new bride is not yet showing signs of being with child, save for the happy grin she wears at all times.

"Not at all," Basch says. They embrace, and Noah laughs. Larisa moves to her mother, her long curls cascading down around her shoulders, and hugs her. Ashe holds her little girl tight, kissing her forehead. She is so beautiful – it stuns Ashe every time she sees Larisa how she has grown into such a goddess.

Larisa's quiet strength compliments Noah's boldness perfectly. Neither Ashe nor Dalmasca could have asked for better rulers.

"Be careful while we are gone," she says, "and send word if you need us to come home. It would only take a day –"

"Mother," Larisa says, laughing. "We will be fine. Go. Enjoy."

"I love you, darling."

"I love you too."

Noah hugs his mother tight and gives her a big kiss on the cheek before releasing her into his father's arms. They say their goodbyes, and Basch ushers Ashe to the airship.

"I am glad we will get to take this trip," she says as they take their seats in the cabin. "I do like Landis. I think their prince is quite gorgeous – even if he has handed the country over to the people."

"I think their prince is quite old," Basch says. She chuckles and leans into him, drawing her legs up beneath her as he holds her. After all this time, it takes only his touch to make her melt.

"Basch?" She whispers his name so the pilot cannot hear.

"Yes, princess?"

"I love you."

He kisses her once, twice, three times before pulling away and smiling down at her. "I love you too."

"I think I left Percival in Rabanastre."

"No," he says, closing his eyes and resting his head atop hers. "I packed him."

Ashe rests her head on his shoulder, and when she closes her eyes on this, their first true day as a couple free of their stately burdens, she daydreams of their life together and of the moments that she carried with her.

Of Vossler bringing him to her room when she was five.

Of Basch tucking her in after an evening story and promising her another adventure in the day to come.

Of him teaching her to defend herself.

Of him placing the ring on her finger for the first time.

Of him holding her in the rain while she cried and vowing to be her knight, her protector, forever – a vow he has never broken.

Of the look on his face when he first saw her again on the first Leviathan.

Of the cautious, careful tactics he used to convince her to trust him again.

Of the blueberry scones eaten in secret over laughter.

Of his hand grasping hers as she dangled over certain death, willing to fall with her if he could not save her.

Of his lips on hers aboard the Strahl, locked in a kiss that would stay with her until he was able to be hers.

Of their wedding and the feeling of each of their children moving inside her and of the look on his face when she would hold his hand to her abdomen to feel it.

Of his happiness at their children's coronation.

As Basch falls into a sound sleep, she maneuvers him carefully until he rests upon her shoulder, and she holds him all the way to Landis, watching him sleep. She never tires of looking at him and knowing he is hers just as she is his princess.

Always his princess.

Author's Note: Oh, this is the end! I am so depressed! I didn't want to stop this at all – I've loved it so much, but I refuse to keep going and find myself writing chapters full of fluff and no content. They are happy. They have lived happily ever after and I have proven that.

There will be a brief epilogue (an optional read) coming either tomorrow or the next day.

I have enjoyed this, my friends, more than I can tell you. I will be so bored without this to work on (so leave me messages!). I hope you are not disappointed by this ending, or by anything in this story. There is a part of me that thinks I should have stopped at chapter 19 – these last chapters are ones I never intended to write, but I love this couple so much that I wanted to be certain they lived happily ever after – and the only way to do that would be to write it myself.

There is a lot that I would change, and maybe I will, but I have completed my challenge to myself, which I am very, very proud of.

As it is, I intend to spend the next few days playing FFXIII, which I acquired only hours ago – I may return sooner than you think.