It would have been nice to see him, perhaps. Or, maybe Ashe, of such a quick temper and an even more brash tongue, would have been infuriated. It takes more than a crown to subdue a fire, particularly the one that lights her heart and her blood. The wisdom of age is slowly given to Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca.
She steps out onto the terrace of her suite long after breakfast is over and any surprise guests have departed. The little leather pouch comes away easily in her hand, the ring surprisingly warm.
The letter, well... Something better. That's what he writes.
Ashe wonders what that is. For a prince, it had been his father's glory, a swift death in an epic battle, a bleak procession and funeral shroud that all of Rabanastre had shut down for. For a pirate...
She sighs, but there's a smile in it. Fondness.
For a pirate, it would be the open sky. The smell of the sea. Adventure. Life. Love. Tomorrow.
No, she thinks. He would never be so chained to a castle, would he? Fortunately, Ashe is hardly prone to girlish fantasies. He is not her lover. He owes her nothing. In fact, this is far more than he owed, in the end. Recompense for the ring had come in saving Rabanastre. The home of her heart, the jewel of her beloved nation.
Hand closing around the ring, Ashelia believes she can still feel the warmth of his hand, smell the scent that was so uniquely him, leather and aftershave and the world.
1/2
It would have been nice to see him, perhaps. Or, maybe Ashe, of such a quick temper and an even more brash tongue, would have been infuriated. It takes more than a crown to subdue a fire, particularly the one that lights her heart and her blood. The wisdom of age is slowly given to Ashelia B'Nargin Dalmasca.
She steps out onto the terrace of her suite long after breakfast is over and any surprise guests have departed. The little leather pouch comes away easily in her hand, the ring surprisingly warm.
The letter, well... Something better. That's what he writes.
Ashe wonders what that is. For a prince, it had been his father's glory, a swift death in an epic battle, a bleak procession and funeral shroud that all of Rabanastre had shut down for. For a pirate...
She sighs, but there's a smile in it. Fondness.
For a pirate, it would be the open sky. The smell of the sea. Adventure. Life. Love. Tomorrow.
No, she thinks. He would never be so chained to a castle, would he? Fortunately, Ashe is hardly prone to girlish fantasies. He is not her lover. He owes her nothing. In fact, this is far more than he owed, in the end. Recompense for the ring had come in saving Rabanastre. The home of her heart, the jewel of her beloved nation.
Hand closing around the ring, Ashelia believes she can still feel the warmth of his hand, smell the scent that was so uniquely him, leather and aftershave and the world.
She smiles, and it's a wistful thing. ]