I wasn't going to write this, but I couldn't bring myself to leave it on a depressing note. Damn me and my desire for happy endings! Same as the last chapter, but this one is slightly AU-ish, I guess. Depends on whether or not you think there was any way [SPOILER] Vossler could've survived the destruction of the SHIVA [/SPOILER]. The quote at the end is just something I do to all my stories – it's funny how there's always an incredibly apt quote for just abut anything. Again, please read, review and enjoy.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Lady Ashelia?" Her page calls warily. The last few months had not been kind to the Dynast-Queen – a number of servants had heard her crying in her chambers (though, of course, they would never say anything of the matter), and the cracks in her public façade were becoming so apparent that even the most ignorant of people were beginning to notice something was terribly amiss with Dalmasca's ruler. The page couldn't be sure how she would react to anything right now. "I have news," he calls again, "May I come in?" When no answer comes, he decides the only course of action is to enter her rooms without permission. This is important news, after all.

Ashe hears the doorknob turn a moment before the door opens. These few seconds give her time to regain her composure and wipe the tears from her eyes, though a distinct redness remains and she still clutches the chocobo doll close to her body.

"Lady Ashelia?" Like any good servant, the page does not question her appearance, but merely continues with his piece. "A pair of chocobo merchants from the Sandsea are with me, along with another man who I am told is an acquaintance of yours. They say they have a rather interesting story to tell you – shall I let them in?"

The Sandsea? Thoughts race through Ashe's disjointed mind. "Let them in," she says, the first words she has spoken outside of a public address for many a month. With this, two men and a woman enter the room, all of them looking decidedly sand-swept and more than a little worse for wear.

She recognises the first man and the woman as the two merchants she and her party had bought supplies from before they had tackled the Tomb of Raithwall. The other man, whose face was obscured with a thick, bushy beard and who walked with a rather heavy limp, is a complete mystery. Still, Ashe swears there's something familiar about him.

The male merchant speaks first, after the woman assures Ashe that this will be as short a story as possible, not wanting to waste the monarch's time. "We were all set to move on from our camp at the tomb. We had hid when we heard the Archadian vessels, but it looks like it was just you they were after, eh?" Clearly, this young man hasn't heard anything of the queen's current state. "Anyway, we were all packed up, mounted and ready, when we heard a great explosion up above. An entire fleet was destroyed, or at least, that's what we heard from travellers from the capital."

"We travel light, so we soon reached the expanse where most of the debris landed. Bodies – well, charred fragments of bodies – everywhere. Awful. Well, imagine our shock when, not only did we find a whole body, but one that was still breathing! We found this fella' floating in the sandwater – guess he must have bailed before his ship exploded and was lucky enough to land in a pool deep enough to break his fall." At this point, the woman takes over, and Ashe tightens her grip on the toy chocobo held at her chest.

" To be honest, we thought he was a goner, but being the charitable sorts we are – and noticing that he wasn't an Imperial, and therefore must have been important to have been on one of their ships – we took him with us. He slowed us down a lot: we had to toss that bloody armour of his or we'd have taken even longer to make it back. It wouldn't have done him any good, anyway; the thing was covered in holes! Looked like someone had taken a gun to it a fair few times."

"Armour or no, it's a good thing we sell supplies, else we'd be stuffed. The Sandseas take a fair few months to cross with such a load, especially if you have to lead a pair of restless chocobos, along with it. He woke up eventually, of course, but, as you can see, he's not exactly in the best of health, even now."

The male merchant interjects before Ashe can say a word; not that she's able to even if given a chance. "He doesn't talk a lot either – won't even tell us his name. He just said to go see Queen Ashe of Dalmasca. So, here we are." He ends on an expectant note, almost as if he's waiting for compensation for his good deed.

Ashe sits down, albeit with none of her usual grace, mulling the merchants' strange tale over in her mind. Finally, she answers, "I would like to have some time alone with this man." She gestures to the bearded stranger and, upon seeing the light in the merchants' eyes dim momentarily, reluctantly adds: "The merchants may go to the treasury, where they will be rewarded with gil equal in value to their deed."

Allowing herself a longer look at the man before her, Ashe gains the confidence to personally confirm her hopeful conclusions. Placing the chocobo doll gently on her bed, she strides towards him, regaining some of the strength that had seemed to drain away over the last few months.

Her old self seemingly restored, Ashe's newly reformed soul is still fragile, and, should her assumptions be proved incorrect, it shall surely shatter once more. Still, she remains bold, and, covering the last few feet between them with long strides, she slaps the man hard across the face. Had he been much smaller, he would have certainly gone sprawling to the floor; as it is, he just takes the hit without moving.

"Don't you ever worry me like that ever again! I thought you were dead! I thought... I thought I'd killed you!"

The reddening of his ears and the perfect mix of both acute bemusement and and repentance in his eyes give him away almost instantly. She remembers how, every time she would berate him (though she only ever did so in jest), his face would become the perfect image of what she sees before her, albeit without the beard.

In a move that is sure to only confuse Vossler further, Ashe throws herself at him in a violent hug, filled with overwhelming relief and – for the first time in many months – joy. She only pulls away when she hears him wince under her grip, and her joy is immediately replaced by concern. She knows Vossler: infamously stoic, and able to take great deals of pain without a word. Something is seriously wrong.

Thinking back to the instruction the viera Fran had given her in the use of of advanced white magicks, Ashe places her hands either side of the wounded man's face. Admittedly, this gesture is not entirely necessary, as the hands merely need to be in contact with the target, but Ashe has her own reasons.

After first casting Faith on herself, for she does not know how the spell will work on such a serious case, Ashe recites the incantation for Renew, the most potent healing magick humes can master. She focuses her mind completely on the flow of energy from her body to Vossler's and prays the spell takes effect.

As the last threads of Mist finish weaving themselves into the magick, she releases his face and hugs him tightly once more. Only when he assures her he is as well as magicks can ever make him does she pull away, and then only to plant a kiss full on his lips. They gaze at each other in blissful silence for a time, before holding each other close again. As they lean in, Vossler mutters something unintelligible, whilst Ashe whispers, very clearly: "Please shave your beard."

"Strong people have strong weaknesses."

Peter Drucker