CHAPTER TWELVE

"Princess! 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."

Ashe couldn't sleep.

It had been three weeks and she still couldn't sleep.

Three weeks since the battle for Dalmasca had been fought. Since she and her friends had beaten Vayne and from the bridge of The Strahl, Ashe had announced the war was over and declared Dalmasca's freedom from the Empire.

Three weeks since she had last heard his voice.

The transition from Imperial rule to Ashe's leadership had been a surprisingly smooth one, partly thanks to Larsa's assistance. The people of Rabanastre had been surprised, but overjoyed to learn the falseness of Ashe's supposed suicide, and embraced her when they learnt of all that she and her friends had done over their three months of journeying for the sake of the Kingdom. Their lost princess had returned and freed them. She was restored with open arms.

Vaan and Penelo became immediate celebrities within the city. They stayed with her in the Palace that first night as did Basch and Larsa. Larsa's presence was a sign to Dalmasca that the Empire was beginning anew and was a symbol of solidarity, of the friendship and respect that had been established between the two young rulers.

They stayed up that night, thinking of their absent friends. Both Ashe and Vaan refused to let the others refer to the Sky Pirate's absence as a 'sacrifice' or let them talk of them in past tense. The Pirate's will come back to them, they were adamant. For Larsa's sake, they spoke only of Vayne with respect. He may have been their enemy but he was also Larsa's brother and he needed an opportunity to grieve for him. Something he could not do in the presence of the Judges.

Larsa, of course, had to return to Archadia the next morning, to re-establish the senate his brother had dissolved and take up the office of Emperor. Basch had left with him. Fulfilling a promise to his fallen brother, 'Judge Gabranth' returned to Archades to watch over the young Lord and it broke Ashe's heart to see him go. It was ironic, only a few months before when she discovered he was alive, how much she had hated him. She might have killed him herself had she a weapon at the time. How they had gone from that to Ashe wishing he did not have to leave her, believing he would be with her always and now, fighting the tears as they said goodbye. It was almost like loosing her father all over again. She understood his reasons and could not resent Larsa his protection. She just wished it wasn't so.

Vaan and Penelo had returned to the city themselves not long after Basch's departure - it was clear that they too were taking his leaving hard - and Ashe promised to see them again soon. That was three weeks ago.

'You said I wouldn't be alone.' She found herself thinking on one of her sleepless nights. She was lucky, she had taken to her new role well and she silently thanked her father in the heavens for teaching her so ably. There was so much to do after the occupation and everyday Ashe worked tirelessly to re-establish her country as independent. She welcomed the work as it kept her mind busy. At night however, while she wished for sleep she could only think of one thing. Or rather, she spent all her time trying not to think on it. It was exhausting.

"I'm the Leading Man…" Ashe could virtually hear the smirk in his voice as she kept replaying his last words to her in her mind. He sounded so casual, undaunted by the situation, as if he was just going for a quick jaunt on The Strahl, he'd be back tomorrow and she was fretting over nothing.

"…He never dies." Ashe would glower at the colossal sky fortress from her bedroom balcony.

"I pray that's true." She said to herself. The truth was she didn't know how she was holding it together. The man she loved was missing, presumed dead. She dared to let herself love again and now she may have lost him. Again. Her heart hurt. It hurt so much. The only thing keeping her going was the knowledge that she didn't have time to be a wreck right now. She had a country to run.

"You fool, Balthier." She whispered. She couldn't cry, crying felt admitting defeat. She had to believe her Pirate would return to her. He had been so adamant the morning of the battle that nothing would keep them apart, was a little crash really going to stand in their way? Ashe wished she had told him she loved him when she had the chance. She just felt so alone, no one to share her worries with.

Her only saving grace, in that respect, were her staff at the Palace. After ridding her former home of the imperial guards, she petitioned for any of the former servants and guards who had been at the Palace under her family's rule to return to her if they so wished, and was relieved to find so many familiar faces had taken her offer. Amongst them, much to Ashe delight, was her mother's chief handmaiden Erez. Erez had been present at Ashe's birth, and was like a second mother to her. She could be quite formidable too and Ashe appointed her in charge of running the Palace. If anyone could get the place running correctly, it would be Erez.

Several of the Resistance members who survived the assault on the Palace also came to join the Royal and City Guard, and Ashe embraced them and all the other young and new members of her household. Her best appointment was her own chief handmaiden, her personal assistant, a young lady named Aria. Aria was only a year younger than the new Queen and she had fire, something she blamed her Rozarrian heritage for. She was quick-witted and spoke her mind, but she had tact when necessary as well as a kind and loving heart. She was one of five sisters and treated Ashe like she was one of them. Ashe liked her immediately.

But she still could not sleep. Instead, during this insomnia, Ashe had taken to wandering the Palace, reacquainting herself with the halls and rooms she grew up in. Where she had made so many memories and reminiscing about her family. In the two years under imperial rule, Ashe was overcome with relief to find so much of her family's belonging had been simply stored away in unused rooms, rather then destroyed as she feared. The Empire did at least have a sense of respect. The day Erez brought Ashe her mother's jewellery box, the Queen had hugged her so fiercely the older woman joked she would crack a rib.

And it was on one of these sleepless wanderings, one night in the third week of her new reign, that Ashe looked around and realised her feet had brought her to the portrait gallery in the east wing.

Her mouth fell open and a smile started to form, spreading into a grin. She was here, in the portrait gallery. She remembered her silly vow that she made one evening, not long after she had been forced to go into hiding. The one where she said she would cartwheel down the length of this incredibly long room. She had only made it to keep her spirits high on a particularly bad night. The notion was so foolish it couldn't help but make her laugh. But she was here, now. There was no one around and for once she was not in a nightgown or a skirt of any kind. That night she had chosen to wear a pair of silken pyjamas, as if she somehow knew where she would end up later.

She let out a small laugh. It was ridiculous but a promise was a promise and she could help but giggle to herself in disbelief that she was actually going to do this. She took off the robe and her silk slippers, stretched herself out, looked around once more to just make sure she was alone and then took a small run and performed a perfect cartwheel.

She kept going. Her breathing became laboured from the exercise, her arms started to wobble from the constant weight on them, she strained with concentration from the effort of keeping her legs straight and not lose her balance. She would stop every now and again to shake out her limbs and pause for breath, but she would not quit. Not until she was far enough down the other end of the gallery to feel satisfied.

Ashe stood, her arms raised in triumph, breathing heavily, her hair a mess and sweating from the excursion, but proud of herself for doing what she had set out to do. She had a sudden desire to tell someone about it, to share her silliness and her amazing feat of acrobatics. That's when her smile dropped.

There was only one person she wanted to tell. One other person who knew of her promise she had made and she was reminded of a second promise. She was to have co-conspirator in this foolishness and they would laugh about it together. But the man she had made that promise with was not here. She didn't know where he was.

Ashe didn't even feel her legs give way but she had crumpled to the floor. Her breathing, though still heavy, had become full of emotion and she stared at the wall ahead of her, not really seeing it. All she knew is that he wasn't here. The pain in her chest was too much to bear and her breaths came in gulps and her eyes burnt.

Finally, Ashe cried. She wept and sobbed for her lost love, for her friend. She was angry at him for leaving her, for being so damned noble and heroic by saving her city. She was angry at herself for letting him.

She didn't know how long she had sat there on that cold, hard floor but she cried until she had no tears left. She must have fallen asleep where she sat for a spell because the next thing she knew the sky had started to lighten. Slowly she got up and walked the length of the gallery to retrieve her gown and slippers. Her arms ached. As she made it back to her chambers she realised, while she wouldn't let herself believe he was dead, she was still grieving for the loss of Balthier and she needed help. She needed her friends around her.

The very next morning she sent for Vaan and Penelo.