Final Fantasy XII - Rasler/Ashe
Jul. 22nd, 2007 12:54 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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kinkfestTitle: First Time
Author: RegicidalDwarf
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 500
A/N: Very very late, sorry. X-posted in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
regicidaldwarf2
They are betrothed years before they are married, or even before they meet.
Ashe is schooled in the arts of diplomacy and proper procedure from the time she is old enough to comprehend her lessons, and knows this is proper procedure for their rank and station. By the time she is thirteen, she has met Rasler in arranged meeting enough to know that he would not be wholly unpleasant. By fifteen she even likes him. When the wedding comes she is sixteen, and thinks herself ready.
Still, she cannot help but feel nervous every time she thinks of their first night alone. She has been schooled in marital matters, she knows what it entails, but her hands shake when she thinks of it. Her maids have always told her that embroidery is good for nerves, but she stabs herself almost as much as the work, and almost ruins many patterns by pulling too hard at the threads. She abandons every attempt after a few minutes to tire herself in the practice rooms instead.
Her first kiss is in front of millions, at the wedding ceremony. She likes it, but wishes it could have been a more private affair.
But then the crowds leave after hours of congratulations and banquets in their honor, and suddenly they are alone for the first time.
The silence that falls after the door to their bedchamber closes with a definitive thud is almost deafening. After several moments that last much too long, Rasler clears his throat as though he would speak, but instead shifts in his place by the door. Ashe has perched herself on the edge of the bed.
“Will you sit?” she asks, to break the silence. He jumps as though startled.
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
Ashe realizes that he has thanked her for offering him a seat that is really his as much as hers. The absurdity of it hits her at once and she smiles, a giggle escaping her. Rasler looks almost hurt for a moment, but seems to realize that her laughter is not harmfully meant. He begins to laugh as well.
The laughter is infectious and breaks the tension that was threatening to strangle them. Before long they are both laughing outright, loudly and uncontrollably. It is long minutes before they are able to rein themselves in, and they are still smiling. Rasler steps forward and takes her hands in his, turning them over when he sees the stab marks.
“My dear, what has happened to your hands?”
“Too much embroidery,” she replies, and giggles again. “My maids would despair of me, it seems I am unable to complete a piece without a dozen such marks. Or even too finish a pattern, you see the results of trying around the room, do you not?” He looks around, smiles wider, and tilts her face up to kiss her again.
“I do indeed. Come, Ashe, will you join me this night?”
Ashe’s stomach turns over, but she nods.
"It would honor me to."
Author: RegicidalDwarf
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Word count: 500
A/N: Very very late, sorry. X-posted in
regicidaldwarf2They are betrothed years before they are married, or even before they meet.
Ashe is schooled in the arts of diplomacy and proper procedure from the time she is old enough to comprehend her lessons, and knows this is proper procedure for their rank and station. By the time she is thirteen, she has met Rasler in arranged meeting enough to know that he would not be wholly unpleasant. By fifteen she even likes him. When the wedding comes she is sixteen, and thinks herself ready.
Still, she cannot help but feel nervous every time she thinks of their first night alone. She has been schooled in marital matters, she knows what it entails, but her hands shake when she thinks of it. Her maids have always told her that embroidery is good for nerves, but she stabs herself almost as much as the work, and almost ruins many patterns by pulling too hard at the threads. She abandons every attempt after a few minutes to tire herself in the practice rooms instead.
Her first kiss is in front of millions, at the wedding ceremony. She likes it, but wishes it could have been a more private affair.
But then the crowds leave after hours of congratulations and banquets in their honor, and suddenly they are alone for the first time.
The silence that falls after the door to their bedchamber closes with a definitive thud is almost deafening. After several moments that last much too long, Rasler clears his throat as though he would speak, but instead shifts in his place by the door. Ashe has perched herself on the edge of the bed.
“Will you sit?” she asks, to break the silence. He jumps as though startled.
“Oh, yes. Thank you.”
Ashe realizes that he has thanked her for offering him a seat that is really his as much as hers. The absurdity of it hits her at once and she smiles, a giggle escaping her. Rasler looks almost hurt for a moment, but seems to realize that her laughter is not harmfully meant. He begins to laugh as well.
The laughter is infectious and breaks the tension that was threatening to strangle them. Before long they are both laughing outright, loudly and uncontrollably. It is long minutes before they are able to rein themselves in, and they are still smiling. Rasler steps forward and takes her hands in his, turning them over when he sees the stab marks.
“My dear, what has happened to your hands?”
“Too much embroidery,” she replies, and giggles again. “My maids would despair of me, it seems I am unable to complete a piece without a dozen such marks. Or even too finish a pattern, you see the results of trying around the room, do you not?” He looks around, smiles wider, and tilts her face up to kiss her again.
“I do indeed. Come, Ashe, will you join me this night?”
Ashe’s stomach turns over, but she nods.
"It would honor me to."
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