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Golmore Jungle was dark and humid. Strange creatures wandered the winding, labrynth-like corridors, lying in wait to ambush the unsuspecting party.

Ashe felt like she was wilting under the extreme conditions. Princesses were supposed to glow, not perspire, but she was definitely perspiring. She would have given anything for a nice long bath, but she supposed that would have to wait until after they'd been to Bur-Omisace. She rolled her neck back and forth as they approached an eerie glowing blue light. It looked like a dense mist, but upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be a barrier of some sort.

"The Wood. She is denying us passage," Fran said dejectedly.

"Why?" Ashe asked the viera with concern. "What have we done wrong?"

Fran studied the Princess solemnly. "We? No. I," she explained, somewhat forlornly. She began walking off in the opposite direction.

Balthier caught up with her. "Making an appearance?" he asked her in a low voice.

She simply nodded. "This is as much for you as it is for me," she told him distantly.

"Balthier! Fran!" Vaan called, rushing to catch up with them. Fran stopped in front of a seemingly dead end. "What's going on?" Vaan wondered.

"You will see," Fran told him. She made a motion with her hands, and a bright beam of light shot forth from her fingertips. Suddenly, a grassy, hidden path appeared.

"Whoa," Vaan said, obviously impressed.

Fran smiled a little. "Come," she said, leading the party down the long path into the hidden village of the viera -- Eruyt Village. They reached the entrance and Fran stopped. "Seek out Mjrn. She will know why you have come."

"You're not coming?" Penelo asked her.

"I am no longer welcome," Fran said cryptically. Ashe looked at her, puzzled. What could Fran have possibly done to make her unwelcome in her own home?

She soon found out. Apparently, Fran was the exception to the rule when it came to viera. Every viera they spoke to in the village proper was viciously rude to them. They soon learned that to the viera, leaving the confines of the Wood to live amongst humes was worst commitable sin.

They inquired about Mjrn to everyone they saw, but the viera simply refused to aid them. "This is coming quite close to be utterly ridiculous," Balthier speculated in a low voice; so quiet that only Ashe -- who walked only a little way ahead of him -- heard him.

Vaan exhaled noisily. "Hey, Mjrn lives here, doesn't she?" he said to the nearest viera. "We're here to see her."

No response. Then, a pink-clad viera priestess, who bore a striking resemeblance to Fran, emerged from one of the trees. "You will leave at once," she said in a soft voice that rolled with quiet anger. "It is not permitted for humes to walk these grounds."

Ashe had to admit, she was impressed that Vaan held his ground. "We'll go after we've seen Mjrn," he said coolly.

The viera priestess looked at him with ill-concealed amusement. "If you can find her," she challenged, hands on hips.

"We're not leaving until you let us see her," Vaan said, crossing his arms over his chest. Balthier and Ashe exchanged a surprised glance, while the priestess stared Vaan down. Vaan threw up his hands in disgust. "Fine, then. We'll look for her ourselves." He turned to head out of the village.

Ashe was shocked to see Fran walking up the path to the priestess' abode. "I've heard the voice of the Wood. She says Mjrn is not in the village. Jote, where has she gone?"

"Why do you ask?" Jote asked. "The Wood tells us where she has gone. Or ... can you not hear her?" she sneered. Fran looked away quickly. "You cannot," Jote said triumphantly. "Your ears are dull from hearing their harsh speech, I think. Viera who have abandoned the Wood are viera no longer. Mjrn, too, has left her embrace."

"And you forsake them in turn?" Balthier asked, hands balling into fists at his side.

Ashe noticed this, and tilted her head to the side slightly. He was fiercely protective of those he loved; she could see that now. She felt the tiniest sting of jealousy, but mostly she was overwhelmed by the sudden rush of admiration (or was it adoration?) she felt for him. She wondered -- would he defend her in kind? Shaking her head, she realized that it mattered not. She had other tasks at hand to see to, before she could allow herself to fantasize about a sky pirate ...

"It is the will of the village," Jote was saying in response to Balthier's accusation. "Viera must live always with the Wood. So says the Green Word, so is our law."

"We’ll let you worry about keeping your laws. Just do us a favor and stay out of our way. We’ll find her ourselves," Vaan said irritably.

Jote sighed and performed a small summoning spell to sense the missing viera. "She wanders warrens among men who hide themselves in clothes of cold iron. Thus to me has the Wood spoken." She started to walk away, but Fran's voice gave her pause.

"The Viera may begin as part of the Wood, but it is not the only end that we may choose."

"The same words I heard 50 years ago," Jote said wistfully, and then she walked away.

The group headed back to the village's entrance tunnel. "Not bad, Vaan," Balthier said, straightening his cuffs as he was so apt to do. "Didn't think we'd get anything out of that one." Sighing, he looked off in the distance. "So then, what was she saying about men in a warren?"

"The Henne Magicite Mines," Larsa contributed. "They lie in Bancour, south of the Ozmone Plains. The entire region is a colony of the Archadian Empire. There -- would be soldiers," he said uncertainly.

"Is that a problem?" Balthier asked shortly. "Let's move." Fran followed closely behind Balthier as he began to move down the path back to the jungle.

"Uh, Fran?" Vaan said, scratching the back of his head in uncertainty.

"Yes?" Fran said, turning to the younger man.

"I was thinking -- about what Jote said, you know? About how you said the same thing 50 years ago?"

"Your point?" Fran said in a voice that warned Vaan to tread lightly.

Vaan apparently didn't hear the warning tone. "How old were you again?"

Fran gave him a scathing look before she turned and walked off.

Ashe gasped in shock. "Vaan!" she said under her breath.

"Nice, Vaan," Balthier said sarcastically, following his partner out of the village.

"Surprisingly rude," Larsa said with disdain.

"Try to grow up, please?" Penelo said, amusement twinkling in her green eyes.

****************************************************************************

"My gods," Ashe murmured as they walked past the corpses strewn about the entrance to the Henne Mines.

"Researchers from the Draklor Laboratory," Larsa explained. "I wonder what they were doing here."

"Research," Balthier said dryly. He nodded his head, gesturing that everyone else should go on ahead, but stopped Ashe by putting a hand on her shoulder. "Be careful in there," he said quietly, reaching out to touch her face.

She stepped back before his hand could make contact with her cheek. "I always am," she said imperiously. As soon as she had brushed past him and was inside the relative safety of the mines, she smiled contentedly to herself. She had the answer to her earlier question ... Would he defend her?

Most definitely.

***********************************************************************

Nearly nine hours later, the party returned to Eruyt Village with a wounded Mjrn in tow. They walked the same path back to Jote's home. She came out to meet them. "I have heard the Wood's whispers," she said. She held out a small, shining jewel to Fran. "Take it. Lente's Tear is a permission. Pass through the Wood and leave. To other places, go."

Vaan sighed at Jote's indifference. Mjrn stepped up to Jote, fire in her eyes. "But ... that cannot be all! I saw it when I left the village! Ivalice is changing. How can the viera stand and do nothing?"

Jote looked at the younger viera coolly. "Ivalice is for the Humes. The Wood alone is for us."

"But that is wrong!" Mjrn contested. "How can we just hide here in the trees when all the world outside is on the move! I, too, wish to live freely—to leave this Wood!"

"Do not do this," Fran said firmly. Mjrn turned to Fran, a questioning look in her eyes. "You must remain away from the Humes. Stay with the Wood. Live together with the Wood. This is your way."

"But, Fran -- my sister!" Mjrn cried.

Fran shook her head sadly as she looked upon her younger sister. "I am no longer of you," she said. "I have discarded Wood and village. I won my freedom. Yet my past had been cut away forever. No longer can my ears hear the Green Word. This…solitude, you want, Mjrn?"

"Sister," Mjrn said quietly.

"No, Mjrn. Only one sister remains to you now." Fran's eyes met Jote's. "You must forget my existence."

Mjrn was visibly upset as she turned and fled. Ashe felt for her. But what could she possibly say to her?

"I am sorry to make you do this," Jote said to Fran after Mjrn had left.

"She goes against the laws of the Wood. I threw down these laws. It is better that I do this. Better I than one who must uphold these laws herself," Fran said as if it were the most simple thing in the world, really. Jote motioned for the other viera to leave them. After they had gone, Fran turned to her sister. "I have a request: Listen to the Wood’s voice for me. I fear—I fear She hates."

Jote performed the summoning spell again. "The Wood longs for you. For the child lost from her boughs," she finally said.

Fran smiled wryly. "A pleasant lie, that," she said. She turned to take her leave.

"Be careful," Jote warned. "The Wood is jealous of the humes who have taken you." She cast a pointed look at Balthier, but Fran shook her head.

"No. He is safe. Goodbye, Sister," she said resolvedly.

She made her way back to the rest of the group, feeling as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. No more would she worry about her sisters back in the Wood. They would be fine. And so would she. The party would exit Eruyt Village with both Lente's Tear and Jote's blessing.

Continuing their trek through the jungle, Fran warned of a dangerous Elder Wyrm -- guardian of the Wood -- up ahead. "We're far too run-down from the Mines to attempt to fight him now. There is a secret inn that we viera know of up ahead. Any objections?"

Ashe nearly sobbed with relief when Fran opened up the secret path leading to a beautiful white-stone cottage surrounded by trees and lush tropical flowers. They entered the front door and Ashe was awed by the beauty of the building.

It was strange ... in a way, it reminded her of the Royal Palace in Rabanastre.

"Uh, there's no one to check us in," Penelo pointed out.

Fran smiled serenely. "This inn is the Wood's own, and the Wood is wise. Take a key from that basket It will open one of the rooms. The Wood takes care of the rest."

It might have seemed strange, but Ashe was too tired to argue with anyone at that point. If the Wood was to be her hostess for the evening, she would gladly accept that fact. She quickly selected a key and hurried down the hallway. She prayed that the Wood's idea of hospitality would include a nice, hot bath.

Her key opened the last room on the left. She had to suppress a delighted squeal as she pushed the door open. It was huge, decorated exactly as her old room at the Palace had been -- in subtle shades of green and pink. The bed was an enormous four-poster canopy with dozens of pillows piled atop it. A bottle of pink champagne chilled in an ice bucket on the vanity.

She opened the closet and sighed with rapture when she saw the rose-colored silk and lace negligee hanging inside. It had been so long since she'd worn silk ...

There was a knock on her door then, and Fran entered. "It wasn't locked," she explained.

"It's fine, please come in," Ashe said warmly. She had grown quite fond of the viera, even if it was hard to relate to her sometimes.

Fran looked around and smiled. "The Wood has done well for you?"

"It's just like my room at the Palace," Ashe admitted wistfully. "Are the rooms always different?"

"They change, according to their occupant's desires. It would seem you desire to be home," Fran speculated. "Everything here is for you this night. Rest well."

"It's simply amazing," Ashe marveled. Inside, she was gleeful. That meant she could wear the beautiful silk nightgown! "Thank you so much for this, Fran."

"Don't thank me. It is your desire, manifested by the Wood." Fran looked around the room once more. "It would seem something is missing from this room, though."

Ashe looked around, puzzled. "I don't think so. Everything that I could possibly want right now is here," she said.

"Is that so?" Fran said, arching an eyebrow at the Princess.

Ashe narrowed her eyes. "What exactly are you implying?"

"We both know," Fran said simply.

Ashe didn't say anything. Fran could see that the Princess was ill-at-ease. "Goodnight, Ashe. I'll see you in the morning," she said quietly, leaving the room.

Ashe watched her go, and stared at the door for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she shook her head, laughing at herself. He was probably in his own room, surrounded by several lusty maidens that the Wood had conjured just for his pleasure.

But that thought didn't amuse her, as she had hoped. Instead, it caused a sharp pain in her heart; a pain so sharp that she nearly yelped from it. What was happening to her? She walked to the vanity and poured herself a glass of the champagne. In a very uncharacteristic move, she downed the entire glass in one gulp and then poured another one.

She shed her clothes and carried her glass into the bathroom, where an enormous marble tub beckoned to her. She tied her hair into a bun at the nape of her neck and selected rose- and vanilla-scented bubbles for her bath. She sunk into the warm water and felt the tension melting out of her aching muscles.

She took a sip of her drink and sighed. "I do hope he's enjoying himself as much as I am," she snarked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes.

"Oh, I'd daresay I've got the better end of the bargain, here, Princess."

Ashe's eyes snapped open at the sound of his voice. There he was, standing at the doorway of her bathroom, watching her as though she were some sort of peep show. "What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"Come now, Princess. You know how this place works. One -- or both -- of us desired it. No use arguing with the Wood, it won't likely do us any good." He smiled boyishly at her. "Besides, I can't say I'm too unhappy about the situation."

"Well, it certainly wasn't I who desired this," Ashe said haughtily. "And I've a hard time believing this is your deepest desire. The Wood is simply playing some sort of elaborate joke."

"The Wood doesn't joke," Balthier said seriously. "And why is it you doubt that this is my deepest desire?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You can't be serious. Of all the things you could possibly want ..."

"I thought I'd made my wants perfectly clear to you," Balthier said.

Ashe swallowed hard at the look in his hazel eyes. "Oh, so I'm supposed to -- what, exactly? Let you ravish me and then watch you be on your merry way as if it never happened? Because we both know that you'd get what you want from me, and then be gone by morning."

That took Balthier aback. "Is that what you think of me?" he said. "I've dallied in the past, I won't deny it and say that I haven't. But I do know the difference between a dalliance and -- well, whatever the hell this is."

"Whatever the hell what is, Balthier?" Ashe challenged.

"Look, Princess, I'll be glad to have this discussion with you, but do you think it'd be possible to do it somewhere that doesn't involve you, naked?" Balthier said, an amused twinkle in his eyes.

Ashe's eyes widened in embarrassment. "Give me a moment," she told him quietly. He bowed his head and left the bathroom. She heard him sit down on the edge of the bed in the other room, and only then did she stand and wrap herself in a large, luxuriously fluffy towel. She dried off quickly, and then pulled on the silk negligee that she had hung on the back of the bathroom door.

It was certainly made for her -- it fit like a glove. And the silk felt wonderful against her skin. It reminded her of a happier time in her life.

Suddenly, the memories came rushing back to her. Her wedding, such a joyous occasion. Only a month later, learning that both her husband and her father had been killed.

Two years. So long and so short all at once. And what had she done? Little to nothing at all. She owed it to her father to take back her crown, to restore the kingdom he'd loved so much.

And Rasler? She still saw him everywhere. He was guiding her, leading her where she needed to go. But was she to forsake everything? Surely Rasler would not want her to be alone ...

She stepped into the bedchamber where only a few dim candles burned. Suddenly, she'd never felt more alone, and the tears fell freely from her eyes. She held onto the bedpost to steady herself, and she sobbed herself into near oblivion.

It was only after she had collapsed onto the floor that she remembered that Balthier was there. He sat on the bed, silently watching her fall to pieces. "I'm -- sorry," she whispered.

"You're apologizing for being human? I think you apologize far too much, Princess."

"Ashelia," she whispered. "Would you please ... call me Ashelia?"

He stood up and crossed the room, knelt down in front of her, and tipped her tear-stained face up to look at him. "Ashelia," he said tenderly, placing his hand against her cheek.

She smiled a little then. "I think -- I think I'm all alone. I know that I'm traveling with the five of you, and you're -- wonderful. But when this is done -- I'm alone. I was never supposed to be. I was never supposed to rule alone. What if I can't?"

"You can," Balthier said firmly. "You're stronger than anyone gives you credit for -- myself included. Dalmasca will be lucky indeed to call you her Queen."

"And you? What will you call me, when this is over?"

Balthier took her hands into his own. "I shall call you Ashelia," he said sincerely.

Ashe looked at him for a long time before she pulled her hands away from his and placed them in her lap. "I thought that Rasler was it for me," she said quietly. "The 'One and Only', you know? But when your 'one and only' dies when you're just seventeen -- then what? The truth is, I loved Rasler with everything that I had. I don't know if I'll ever feel that way again. But, Balthier ... I need you with more than everything that I have." She looked at him, met his eyes with her own, and found the strength to stand back up.

Balthier looked up at her for a long moment before standing up to join her. "Those words carry consequences, Ashelia," he whispered.

"Yes," she told him, running her hands up the leather vest that covered his chest. "I know." She blinked back the tears that had formed in her eyes. "I'm asking you now. Kiss me ..."

"ASHE!"

Vaan's voice penetrated into Ashe's mind, and she woke with a start to find herself lying on a cot in a tiny tent of some sort. Far, far away from the serenity and beauty she had been pulled away from. "Wha -- what's going on?" she mumbled.

"You were poisoned by the Elder Wyrm." Fran's voice now.

"Elder Wyrm? But I thought -- didn't we stop to rest before fighting him? In the secret inn in the jungle?" Ashe's head felt fuzzy and strange.

"You were dreaming," Penelo said. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Balthier ... Ashe thought numbly. No, that was a dream. She searched her mind for a genuine memory. "Leaving Eruyt Village," she finally muttered

Fran sighed. "The Elder Wyrm's poison is strong. She won't remember the battle for several days, at least."

"Highness, thank gods you're awake," Basch said, entering the tent.

Ashe looked up at him, eyes burning with unshed tears. It was all ... a dream? How can that be? "Balthier?" she asked. "Where --"

Penelo and Vaan exchanged glances. "Uh, he got pretty upset when you got hurt. Said he needed to kill stuff," Vaan said.

Ashe turned to Basch. "Will you -- get him for me, please?"

Basch nodded his head. "Yes, Highness."

"He was worried," Fran told Ashe. "I've never seen him so distressed." Ashe knew it was not Basch whom Fran was referring to. She placed a cool cloth on Ashe's forehead.

"Where are we?" Ashe asked.

"Mt. Bur-Omisace," Penelo said. "We brought you here so the Kiltias could help. We'll go see Anastasis when you feel better."

"Balthier comes," Fran said, looking outside the tent.

"Would you mind ..." Ashe began.

"Not at all. Come, Vaan, Penelo." Fran beckoned the children to follow her. Ashe heard Fran say something to Balthier, and then the tent flap opened.

"Balthier."

"You really should be more careful, Princess. You gave us all an awful fright," he said, trying to keep his tone light.

Ashe closed her eyes. "I dreamt -- of you," she said simply.

"Well, now, that's interesting," Balthier said, interest piqued. "I do hope it was a good dream."

Ashe managed a tiny smile. "It was."

"Princess, I daresay your smile gives you away," Balthier chided softly.

Her eyes flew open. "Oh, do grow up. It was a good dream because you were uncharacteristically mature and kind."

"Oh, you've cut me to the quick," Balthier said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart.

Ashe sat up slowly, feeling better for having seen him. "Thank you," Ashe said.

"For what?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"For more than you know."

He extended his hand to help her up. "In that case, you're welcome. I do hope that someday you'll tell me what it is I did to earn the thanks."

"Someday," she told him mysteriously.

"Shall we be off to the Gran Kiltias now?" he asked her.

"Of course. Tell the others, I'll be out in just a moment," Ashe replied. When he was outside, she sighed a little and attempted to straighten out her clothing.

It may have only been a dream. But, now, in the aftermath of the dream, she knew what it was that she wanted. All she needed was the courage to ask for it.

And in the end, it might just give her the strength she needed to get her crown back.