Hahaha! I know I'm a meanie for leaving the last chapter as a cliffy, but if I hadn't it wouldn't have all fit in one chapter... so sue me! (I don't mean that ;-) I'm broke... really please...) I hope that I have more than made up for that and the short last chapter with this one. Its extra long:-P As always thanks for the reviews and support, they really do help motivate! Read. Enjoy. Review! Sweet... my story has gotten 400+ hits!!! (does the mc hammer dance and boogies down, LOL!)

landis icelilly

Note: This chapter has some graphic content that would probably support the M rating so don't say that I didn't warn you!

Discl: I don't see the point in saying this every chapter but just to save my cute little butt... I own absolutly nothing!! ...well maybe some cookies...

Inside the Sandsea…

Ten minutes had yet passed since Amalia and his dancing escapade, which had ended up leaving him in utter confusion and her leaving in an unsettling attitude, one of the likes that he had never seen in her before. After she had walked away he had found himself occupying his original seat from before and noticed that the controversial frosted bottle now sat on the counter dry as a bone. He mentally thought to himself that Vice probably had drunk the rest of it in hopes of regaining his pride or something of the matter.

'I guess he is trying to one up me by downing the rest. Ha!' he thought to himself, 'Never, even if he really tried. He should try having Ashe as his charge that would be enough to drive anyone to become an alcoholic!'

Vossler fully turned himself towards the bar top with an exhausted sigh and flagged down the old burly barkeep. As the man approached his eyes widened in shocking surprise.

"Well now, I can't believe ya drank all that and ya still standing! I give ya my respects soldier! Care to take on another?"

"Well I had some help but I don't think he faired as well," he laughed and then suddenly wondered where his earlier drinking partner had gone. "Aye, I think I will handle another."

"Brave man I must say! I will be right back, sir," the bartender said as he chuckled on his way back to the storage cellar to find another bottle.

As Vossler waited for the older man to return with his order, he couldn't help but eavesdrop onto a nearby conversation as he patiently stared at the counter top. His heart rate had slowed and the blood that had been pulsating through him during their little show had ceased to its normal flow but he still could feel the intense heat that it carried through his veins. On top of that, his rather fast intake of the strong spirits was now starting to take its toll on his mind and body as he started to feel the smallest amount of drowsiness tug at him, but he chose to ignore it and continued to listen into the conversation taking place next to him.

"How long has it been?"

"I don't know, you where the one that was suppose to be on top of the whole situation!"

"No I wasn't, I was just the one that was suppose to do the talking! Not everything else!"

"Hey! Will the two of you shut the bloody hell up?! He said that he would handle the rest as soon as she was out there… so don't worry about it!" the third voice intervened.

"Yeah, but do you remember the last three times we decided to check on him, he was having a bit of… trouble shall we say?"

"Uggh, yeah I remember but what makes you conspire that she is similar to the others?"

"Trust me, did you see how see acted with him when they played that latter game of pool? Amalia is quite the Firemane. Believe me, she is beautiful and easy on the eyes but wild and untamed underneath at heart; no sooner than he try to handle her, that she will burn him."

In the mist of the conversation, the bartender had since returned with a fresh bottle and glass and had poured him a shot only to continue on with his duties seeing that Vossler was deep in thought. Vossler quickly gulped down the drink and almost choked on it as he heard the three men that he had been listening in on next to him; mention the alias name of his royal charge. This piqued his interest in the conversation and he mentally shook himself to clear his head to make sure he had heard them right. As he looked up, his suspicions were answered when he saw that the three men in conversation were none other than Vice's three lackeys, which only meant trouble as he had learned in past ordeals with the group. He remained quiet as he pried more into their continuing exchange amongst each other to find out more information.

"Damn it, you have a point. She is going to burn him and burn him bad she will. I best think that we should intervene with this one. Vice isn't that cunning to wield this mane on his own."

"Come on then lets go help him." They finished as they set down their half full mugs of ale on the bar top and one by one, they each retreated behind the other to the back archway that lead out into the alleyway.

'The alleyway? What in bloody Ivalice is she doing back there? She told me that she was retiring for the night.' He quietly questioned himself as he quickly poured another two shot fulls and downed each of them as if they were water before he began his trek to the back corridor. As he somewhat hurriedly walked toward the door he felt the blood begin to boil again in his veins instead of the concern that should have replaced it as he was her sworn protector.

'I swear Ashelia, you will be the death of me if not the Empire first!' he huffed in his mind as he reached the wooden door and slowly pulled the heavy oak open to only peer out into quiet darkness. He listened intently trying to make out any voice exchanges as he stealthy slipped out and latched the door silently closed behind him.

Amalia continued to fight for her freedom as she gave another jaw cracking blow to his head's right side that caused him to lose grip on her wrist and she was able to slip away momentarily. Suddenly she found her cheekbone meeting the hard cold cobblestone as her feet were quickly taken out from underneath her by an unknown figure in the dark. She let out a faint cry as she struck the stone but was not allowed to lie there long as she was roughly pulled up off the alley floor by another figure that had materialized out of the darkness. The man that had pulled her off the ground now tightly held her arms behind her back with one hand and the other was wrapped around her chest area, which forcefully pushed her up against his body to secure her.

As she struggled more, a final figure appeared out of the dark haze with Vice joining him at his side. She suddenly recognized them to be Vice's so called roommates and felt that feeling of fear in the back of her mind suddenly creep its way into the foregrounds of her thoughts.

Momentarily trying to pull an arm free, she hissed," You were in on this too?!"

The figure adjacent to Vice let out a rich laugh that infuriated her, "No my dear sweetheart…"

"Then unhand me if you want nothing further of me! I'm not your damn sweetheart!" she spit out venomously this time sending the heel of her boot crushing down on her captor's instep causing him to release his grip on her to nurse his newly injured foot. Quickly she tried again to make a run for it but was violently shoved backwards into the wall that Vice had previously pinned her on. Once again she felt the hard stone meet her back and the pain that surged through it. She looked up to meet their eyes that were intently roaming her figure and tried to maintain her strong façade as she searched for a way out of this situation.

"I must say Vice, she is quite the Firemane. Such a shame that we have to restrain her so that she may be bridled," the shadow implied to Vice.

"I must agree, what a shame," he shook his head slowly giving her an evil smirk.

She came to the conclusion that she had no other means of escape and chose to fight back as best she could until someone gave way to her flight. Not taking his friend's comment lightly she retorted back with dignity, "I am not some mare made to be saddled! I can't believe you Vice! I thought you better than this! I defended you against Vossler's harsh words and look at you now! You are exactly everything Vossler warned me of... you are a damn coward!"

The second Vice heard those words leave her lips was the second that his rage boiled over and consumed him.

'Did she just call me a... coward?!' he questioned himself as he made a bee-line towards her so fast that if she had blinked she would have missed him coming straight at her. His left hand brutally clamped around her neck, pinning the back of her neck against the wall, slowly causing her air supply to dwindle. She tried to scream as the oxygen was being cut off but nothing exited her mouth as she labored for breath.

"You think me some coward! Ha! You must be sorely mistaken Amalia. If it is a coward that you seek then you should only need to look into a mirror to find one," he scathed as she continued to pull frantically at his hands to release his pressure only to feel the slight light headedness taking over her body as her sight began to blur.

"Hmm, I think we should start our training now to teach our mane some manners... shall we?" said a deep voice from over Vice's shoulder. At that same instance the man threw his Assassin's Dagger, embedding itself into the cobblestone wall merely centimeters away from her head. Vice slowly loosened his clasp on her neck and moved his right hand up to her shoulder to keep her from trying to flee as he yanked the dagger out of the mortar with the hand that had previously been around her neck. Amalia let out a huge gasp as the oxygen flooded back into her lungs and into her bloodstream bringing her back into almost full alertness again.

Vice looked intently at the dagger in his hand with a devilish grin while off-handedly questioning, "Now what do you suppose I use this for?"

She suddenly caught the slightest glimmer of the blade in his hand as her heart began to race.

"You wouldn't dare!" she let out in almost a panic as he quickly turned his head back towards her face to catch the faintest glimpse of fear wash over it.

"Ah, is that fear that I see you trying to hide?" he asked as he brought the blade of the dagger to rest on the exposed skin of her thigh. Just as fast as her fear had shown, it was gone and the mask of pure fury and rage returned to make its presence known.

"Consider yourself privileged then because it won't happen again," she retorted menacingly.

"Hmph, arrogant as ever, I'll have to break you of that," he stated with a smirk as he took the tip of the blade and lightly pushed up the fabric of her skirt to reveal the delicate skin of her inner thigh underneath where the blade once again rested. He felt her shiver under his grasp as the cool metal of the blade met her skin.

"Do as you will, I care not!" she urged him on to prove her fearlessness.

"In that case…" he said as he held her tightly against the wall expecting her to fight him as he pushed the sharp edge of the blade into her soft skin and slowly drug it horizontally across her thigh, moderately cutting into the thick muscle tissue.

She bit down hard onto her tongue to withhold any emotion of pain as she felt the intense burn spread from the inside of her thigh to the outside. She held his gaze as he executed this task not blinking once, letting him see that she showed no pain only her growing rage to him. She knew that if she ever survived this ordeal that she would have a lot to explain to Vossler.

'Damn, I wish I had accepted his offer to escort me back now! Uggh, me and my damn pride,' she cursed herself as she felt the sticky warm blood begin to quickly trickle down her thigh.

She suddenly felt Vice jolt when he heard the faintest sound of the latch on the tavern door click and quickly placed his hand on her mouth tightly and with the blade in the other hand, forced it at her throat if she dared to make a noise.

Quietly, Vice whispered, "Make a sound and I'll silence you!"

She nodded in cooperation and remained silent as told as she watched in the direction of the tavern door, seeing a shadowed figure slip out of it into the darkness. There was a sudden hope that welled up inside her as her chances of being pulled from this torture party were greatly increased.

They patiently watched as the figure remained still trying to gain its bearings in the extremely dim lighting the alleyway gave.

'Oh gods, I only hope that you aren't another one come to take part in this,' she pleaded to herself when she saw that the figure was now slowly treading in their direction. Finally when the figure reached an area that had some lighting; it flickered and revealed the silhouette of a tall broad shouldered man, a little more than six feet in height, coming cautiously closer to the group.

Amalia quickly looked down at the blade that was pressed against her throat and then to the man that held it there noticing that he was more concerned with the intruder than the blade. When she looked back up towards the silhouetted man she caught a glimpse of the distinctive armor that plated the boots of the approaching man.

' Vossler! '

Hastily she materialized her plan of flight by stealthily positioning one of her hands around the dagger placing it between the blade and her neck. When she had a good enough grip on the sharp metal she bit down hard onto Vice's hand that was covering her mouth, tasting the blood that seeped through the broken skin. He let out a loud groan and quickly removed his hand from her mouth.

Now was her chance and she screamed, "Vossler—"

But as soon as the words left her lips the dagger was menacingly yanked from her grasp cutting deep into her palm's flesh and the back of his hand met with the side of her face with an audible 'smack' stopping her from continuing.

Finally coming into view, Vossler looked on in a state of shock, which soon morphed into a state of pure animosity when he saw the way that Vice had his royal lineage forced up against the stone wall.

"Vice, let Amalia go now or face the consequences!" Vossler demanded in a low menacing tone. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the three others try to slowly slip into the shadows as not to be caught and he quickly yelled at them, "Not so fast you three bucket heads! Get your asses back here now!"

They quickly obeyed and returned into the dimly lit area so that Vossler could keep an eye on them as he took care of Vice, fearing what he could possibly do to them since they had never seen their Captain in such a rage before.

"Don't make me repeat myself soldier!" he said as he turned his attention back to Vice.

Vice still clenched her upper arm to the wall, so tightly that the blood was stopped from flowing through to her hand. He held the dagger with the blade resting upon her upper right arm, concealed from Vossler's view by his current position and looked up to her with a wild look in his eyes and a cruel smirk playing at his lips. She then quickly looked up to Vossler meeting his eyes with ones of panic, which quickly alerted him that something was wrong.

"This is your last chance Vice! Release her or else I will be forced to take you into containment!" He asserted himself one final time as he approached the young man's backside drawing out his own concealed weapon, a Zwill Crossblade dagger, and forced it against the side of his throat. But as soon as the steel blade touched Vice's skin, he lashed out and pulled his own dagger across Amalia's upper arm, creating a deep gash in her flesh, and continued his arm's full swing out to Vossler's midsection.

Years of rigorous training enabled Vossler to quickly dodge the attack and use Vice's momentum to follow through the swing and pull his arm up behind his back in a painful restraint causing the dagger to clatter to the ground. Vossler then quickly slammed the offender into the same stonewall that Amalia had been thrown into earlier, hearing his face smack the damp stone.

With haste, Amalia quickly darted out the only exit there was from the alleyway until she reached the deserted streets of Rabanastre. Once there she continued to run out of sight from the night watches the Empire had supplied her streets with because if she were caught, she would surely be sent to the gallows. She continued to run until she reached the east entrance of Lowtown where she slowed to a fast walk until she reached the door to her bunk room. She quickly pulled the door open and ran in slamming it closed and locking it once she was clear. She breathed in labored breaths as she rested her head on the cool oak door and slowly let herself collapse to the floor in exhaustion.

Vossler watched as he saw Amalia flee out of the alleyway and only prayed that she avoid anymore-unneeded confrontations. He still held Vice, face first, into the wall as he interrogated him agitatedly.

"What in Ivalice did you think you were doing?! Assaulting a superior officer is a major offense!" Vossler boomed but received no response.

"And with the likes of your reputation, you aren't going to get off easy this time!"

"Tell me Captain…do you enjoy her? I mean is she really that satisfying?" Vice shot back with an arrogant smirk plastered across his face.

"Or is it… that she is, but you cannot keep her cravings satisfied and that's why she sought out for a greater pleasure? Is that your 'old score' that needs to be settled?"

His comments infuriated him and with his free hand he balled it up into a fist and sent it colliding into Vice's already mangled jaw hearing the bone's cracking sound as his jawbone was more than likely shattered. Vice fell to the ground in agony, holding his head in his hands and spitting out the blood that was now flowing into his mouth from his injury.

Looking down upon the soldier, Vossler threatened, "You know nothing of the truth! If you ever as so much as talk of her in such a manner again, I will be the one to personally bring you to your fate at the gallows!"

And with one last blow, Vossler sent his steal plated boot to meet with his stomach and satisfactorily walked away, leaving the alleyway and his now ex-soldiers behind him as he heatedly began his search for a certain princess in hiding.

Collapsed on her bunkroom floor, Amalia was slowly able to stop the intense pounding of her head and heart as the cool wood from the door helped to ease the pain of her colorfully damaged cheek. She touched her fingers of her injured hand up to test the sensitivity of her bruise and winced when she made the slightest of contact with it. Sitting up right now, she began to feel the walls for the switch to turn on her light crystal and noticed that her left hand was throbbing immensely, forgetting her earlier inflicted gash. She made contact with the switch and quickly clamped her eyelids shut as the pitch-black room flooded with light. She blinked repeatedly for a couple of seconds until her eyes adjusted and then focused onto the source of the pain to realize that it was oozing blood from the diagonal hand width sized slash in her palm. Further examination of herself revealed blood seeping from a small dagger wound adorning her right bicep and a massive laceration that extended a good couple inches across parts of her inner and outer left thigh.

Letting out a loud shaky sigh, she forced herself back up onto her legs and went into her bathing chamber to find her medical kit that she always kept available underneath her washbasin. She pulled out the kit that contained various types of gauze, bandages, tapes and anything else that would be of use to injuries and placed it on top of the wooden counter top. She opened the kit and pulled out a fresh roll of gauze, some cotton bandaging pads, tape to secure it all in place, a needle and a roll of thread and organized it all out onto the counter.

She then grabbed a somewhat clean towel, dipped it into some cool water and began to gently scrub at the cuts that decorated her body. When she felt as though they were clean enough she applied some iodine to the wounds to keep any infections down and also as an added cleanser. Next she grabbed the needle and took a generous amount of the thread and sent it through the eye of the needle, knotting it at the end.

Choosing the laceration on her thigh first, as it started to become more painful than the others, she hoisted herself up to sit on top of the counter and slowly but precisely she began to send the needle through the flesh on one side of the cut to the other side pulling it tight to make the skin meet once again. She continued on with the next couple of stitches as she firmly clenched her teeth together to force herself to remain quiet and swallow the dreadful amounts of pain. As she finished the last few sutures, she had finally relaxed her jaw muscles as she had became accustomed to the sharp agony that panged her limb every time she inserted and removed the needle in a completed stitch. She pulled the thread of the last suture tight, knotted it and snip the excess loose with a small knife that she had supplied the kit with.

Putting the needle down at her side she sat back with her back up against the mirrored wall and examined her work as she wiped away the blood that had exuded itself as she closed the gash. She then leaned her head back and closed her eyes to help try and clear the racing thoughts that wouldn't seem to stop in her head.

'How was I so stupid?! I should have seen it coming… But he wasn't acting like that before, why did he do it then? Why them too… I can't believe those three would aid him in such a display! And Vossler… why did I ever let him get to me like that? Why was he even acting like that? Why… why am I rambling on for?! Aaahhh… I've got to stop thinking so much! I'm just going to make myself forget everything and move on,' she mentally concluded to herself as she brought her knees up to her chest and her hands up to her face and sighed deeply. As she exhaled, a lot of the tension went out of her body with it, leaving her in a more serine state than earlier.

She took the wet towel that lay next to her and wiped clean the arm wound that needed to be tended to next. Then with her non-writing hand she grabbed the threaded needle, re-knotted the end and slowly began sewing the tattered ends of flesh back together so they could regenerate.

About halfway through, Amalia was startled by a loud knock that sounded from her door causing her to stab herself with the needle and let out a rather loud curse.

"Announce yourself!" she demanded irritated.

"It is I… Vossler," he replied in a heavy but hushed tone.

She heaved out a loud sigh and quietly cursed to herself as she placed the threaded needle that was still attached to her upper arm, into her mouth and walked to the door to undo the lock and cracked it open for him as she walked back into her bathing chamber to continue doctoring herself.

Vossler slowly walked into the room closing the door behind him and watched her return to her pervious location, he assumed, with a noticeable limp in her step. He raised his eyebrow in question as he asked, "What did he do to you?"

It sounded more like a statement than an actual question, but she ignored him not wanting to relive the experience in her head as she began the motions to finish stitching the laceration. He stepped up closer to her and repeated, "Amalia…tell me what he did to you?!"

This time it sounded like there was anger laced into it as she gave him a reply.

"I do not wish to address it at the moment," she stated calmly in her regal tone.

He let out an audible sigh and walked into the room standing next to her. He stared at her through the mirror as he watched her hand motions working steadily on her bicep, not quite able to make out what exactly she was doing. She was trying to keep the wound out of his eyesight until she could bandage it but that was proving difficult when she reached a point where she was unable to maneuver the needle to where she needed it.

Vossler noticed her distress and placed a hand on her left shoulder to gently turn her around so that he may be of some assistance to her. As the dark bloody skin came into his view, his eyes widened in astonishment not really knowing the true extent of what she was put through before he had arrived.

"Amalia… I'm—" he tried to say but she quickly cut him off.

"If any one is to be uttering apologies tonight, it should be me. I wasn't thinking."

"I shouldn't have let you go alone…I just wished that you would have heeded my warnings earlier! You can't just take your life and everything around you in vain!" he urged as he had taken the needle out of her hand and began completing the surgery she had started upon herself.

A moment of silence passed between them as Vossler knotted the final stitch and cut the remaining thread away, setting it all back onto the counter top. Sensing that she was going to retaliate, he continued with his lecture, "Did you truly forget who you are? What you symbolize for Dalmasca… for Ivalice?!" His pointed stare was met suddenly by an infuriated one of her own as she snapped back at his answer.

"No, I have never forgotten who I am or what I symbolize Vossler! I don't take this plight all in vain as you may think."

"Then why must you always do this to yourself? Always pushing the limits… putting yourself in unnecessary danger?"

"I agree that this situation was indeed caused by my own stupidity and arrogance, but I do what I must at times, Vossler! If this had been a battle for an upper hand at the Empire or Vayne, you or anyone of the other Captains would have done the same and took the chance! They would have gone out of their way to save what little they could of their country…their freedom…just as I try now," she retorted back as her eyes fell from Vossler's to her still untended injury on her palm.

He sighed heavily knowing that his words would only fall upon deaf ears. She was right. He would do the same and risk his life just to know that the future to come would be brighter for it. He watched as Amalia held her injured hand in the other and began to scrub and rinse way the sticky blood that still seeped from it, in her washbasin. She made sure not to physically show her pain and mentally berated herself that if she ever did, she would never forgive herself for showing any more signs of weakness than she already had.

Finally the wound was clean enough to close and after she applied the iodine she hurriedly grabbed the needle and began once again, the tedious back and forth motions to sew her battered hand back together.

A silent curse came from her lips, which caused Vossler to come up by her side in concern. In all of her irritation she had been haphazardly mending her hand when she had stabbed the flesh that was not in need of attention.

Vossler then took control of the situation having seen that she really was in no condition to be doing this on her own and gently grasped the wrist of her injured hand and the needle, then nodded for her to sit on top of the counter as she had previously done. She snapped her head up towards his and met his dark hazel eyes, which she noted to herself that she never really had noticed before; they were intense and hazy, possibly from the alcohol, but as they peered into her she only saw the true caring concern that he was trying to show her.

Her glare softened and she relaxed as she let out a tired sigh, though he had hold of the same wrist that Vice had more than likely badly sprained. She obeyed his request and allowed him to help her up onto the counter top.

Once again in silence, Vossler began gently but expertly suturing the gash closed. He took the quietness as a time to think and analyze her current state, looking over her battered and bruised body. From what he could view, her injuries totaled to: lacerations to the left thigh, right bicep, and her left palm, a bruised right cheekbone and a severely sprained left wrist.

He felt a knot beginning to form in the pit of his stomach as he thought, 'If I could have only gotten there sooner… she wouldn't be… in this pain.'

He looked up to see how she was fairing since she had not since uttered a word and found that she had been intently watching him the entire time he worked. With every stitch she never once flinched or stirred in pain as she gave him a weak smirk. He could only return her action with a weak smile of his own but he made sure that she could see the admiration that it held for her and her strength she continually showed, no matter the circumstances.

Finishing the final stitch, Vossler quickly secured and clipped free the excess thread, setting the needle back into its compartment in the kit. Next he picked up the roll of gauze and began firmly dressing the wounds that were now properly tended to, starting at her palm and ending with the injury on her thigh with a bit of hesitation.

Amalia instantly noticed his falter and abruptly took her hand and stopped his hand from having to apply the lightweight bandage to the, no doubt in his mind, 'forbidden' area of flesh. Her action startled him but he wordlessly and thankfully, let her pull the remainder of the rolled material out of his hand and proceeded to complete what he could not.

Shakily, she replaced all the missing contents of her medical kit back into their compartments and clasped it shut, while she slid herself off the counter top back onto her feet.

"Just like new," she appraised but as soon as she applied her full weight to the limbs, her knees began to feel jelly-like and the instability of them caused her to collapse. Luckily Vossler was standing directly in front of her and was able to catch her by her arms before she had completely hit the floor.

He slowly helped her back up into a standing position not realizing that he had only allowed mere inches between their bodies.

Once standing again, Amalia weakly replied, "Thank you," not fully registering the positions of Vossler's hands and the proximity of their bodies to one another.

"You're welcome, but you need not forget that I am always at your service, m'lady," he answered in a softer tone than what he had used with her earlier. "Are you alright?"

His words slowly sunk in as she began to feel his thumbs gently caressing her arms, which quickly shot her senses into overdrive, and she snapped her head up to only look at him in shock for his actions.

'What is he…?'

Suddenly, as if it were an instinct, she felt her arms begin to tremble underneath his touch remembering the pain that she had endured with what these simple gestures caused and her only words that she managed to choke out was, "I'm…fine… "

'Please… no… not this again! It's the same every time… I can't bear to endure this pain again… please. Just take my words for what they are Vossler… let me go. (sigh)'

Vossler was slightly confused, for another time tonight, by her reaction but was overcame with a strong since of déjà vu, somehow remembering this same encounter with her just mere hours after her Highness and Lord Rasler had been wed. He hadn't known what had gone through her head or what had happened to her on her wedding night. Just like he didn't know now what was going through her head or what had caused her to tremble so suddenly at his touch, but what he did know is that he would get to the bottom of it and find out what the real reason was for her sudden behavior.

"Fine?" he questioned her. She only nodded her head back to him as she quickly tried to pull herself out of his grasp taking a step back in almost a slight panic but was unsuccessful when Vossler tightened his grip. He knew that whenever she didn't want any confrontations or was trying to avoid something, she would hastily try to distance herself from the situation. He had learned this little trait of hers when she was a little girl and he was her 'metal plated nanny' as his squad had always called him.

He gently but firmly held onto her forearms to cancel her efforts to break free and at the same time quietly whispered, "Ashelia…not this time."

'He said it…my real name… doesn't he know that anyone could be listening to us?! Wait…oh gods… he remembered… he is going to ask me about that night… about…Rasler…'

She looked him in the eyes with a knowing plea for him not to ask, but she would be damned for the gods did not answer her request. Just the anticipation of what he would ask her was enough to cause her trembles to worsen.

Vossler felt her begin to shake more noticeably and asked her in a soft comforting voice, "Please… tell me why I'm causing you to be in this state. I know that this is naught you but ever since your wedding night when you almost limped, it seemed, out into the corridor from your chambers and collided with me, that something more had happened than what you had led me to believe m'lady. Do I speak the truth in that I see a liar in my own royal liege, a mere cover up to seal away the veracity of the situation?"

Amalia began to shy away from him as she tightly closed her eyes to force back the imaginary tears and turned her head away from his direction to the floor. She let a heavy sigh escape her lips as she tried to collect her train of thought before she embarked on telling him the truth.

Quietly she started, "Aye, a cover up is what I had told you but I, mark you, am no liar."

"But why the lies then if you are no liar? Surely you do not acquire a limp from simply being cold as you had told me those two years past," he questioned her still not giving her any slack on his grip.

"So you noticed that…" Amalia winced as she looked down at her feet, her tone filled with shame.

Vossler released one of her arms so that he could place his index finger and thumb of his freed hand upon her chin and delicately lifted her head up so that his eyes met with her tired, worn and pained ones. "Yes…I did."

"Don't Vossler," she tried to plead with him to stop the intimate contact but her words fell from mid air, never reaching his ears.

"What happened?"

Her body still shuddered as she finally initiated the truth, "Rasler… wasn't the gentleman that he had portrayed himself to be. I hadn't thought of him as anything less than the perfect Nabradian noble with their manners and such. As you may have seen, he had only showed his perfectly crafted façade to fool everyone…the people, you, me and most importantly, my father. This, as I later came to find, was his way of expanding his family's territories and having more leverage against the Empire and Emperor Gramis. He merely only wanted to use my family's heritance for his gain and revenge toward the Arcadians. But those three hours after he had became my husband and Prince to not only Nabradia but also Dalmasca; word was broken that his beloved homeland and also his father, had perished to the very hands he hated most. He had became angered by this revelation and wanted to accompany the fleets to Nalbina Fortress that would leave in the early morning soon after the ceremony, granting him the leadership of the Dalmascan troops."

Amalia took a moment to catch her breath and steady herself better for the part that was yet to come. She looked up to Vossler and saw that his face was showing his conflict of emotions caused by this new information she was diverging to him. Letting another sigh exit her lips she continued on.

"What was supposed to be our wedding night was anything but what I had made it seem. Since he had kissed his bride, he had wanted little or no contact with me at all. I saw this as strange but I let the issue be, seeing as he was most likely wrot with grief from the news of his losses and prepared for our consummation that we were bound to by written law of our ancestors. That was when I met the true Rasler Heios Nabradia. Neither a Prince nor knight in shining armor as I had once been fooled to think, but a power hungry and cold hearted Hume sought only on revenge now. It was not what I wanted or how it should have been… I had tried with all my strength to stop him… but…he was too… strong for me. He… had me pinned and…"

That was when her eyes started to fill with the salty flux that was threatening to be shed and her body began to almost violently quaver but she quickly got a grip on herself so that not even one tear was lost holding true to her word to not shed anymore tears.

Vossler could only look on in complete disbelief. He never suspected Lord Rasler of being a two faced person. But he would have never of thought in all of Ivalice, that Lord Rasler, would take advantage of someone as innocent as Ashe.

Soo? Yeah I know it was mean of me to make Rasler like that but thats how I wanted it. (... takes cover from possible flying objects aimed at the head...) Sorry Rasler lovers, I like him too but everyone likes to make him seem like the perfect gentlemen, having him and Ashe either love each other or as a marriage of convenience being friends. I wanted to take a different approach to it... I like it better when things are dark... if ya couldn't tell:-D Please drop me a line and let me know how I'm doing! -landis icelilly