Yay! I'm back in the game! It has been too long without any writing. My imagination nearly a-sploded from lack of creative venting. I blame the school children! But now that I'm started, hopefully I'll stay with it for a little while. Freya-Amarant is one of my all time favorite couples but as it turns out, I see Amarant very different than a lot of other writers out there see him. I see him as more detatched and aloof than most people. But then again 'Detatched' and 'Aloof' very rarely describe good features of romantic characters. Well, anyway, enjoy!
Freya adjusted the front of her faded red leather tabard for the umpteenth time, silently repeating her mantra of 'He is not going to notice if I do not point it out.' She stood in the shadow of an archway at the edge of the courtyard of the Alexandria Castle, nervously watching the courtyard's only occupant, the blue-skinned mountain of solid muscle and bone, practice his katas. Slash-slash-step-sweep-duck, it was an extremely practiced Burmecian unarmed fighting kata he had modified only slightly to accommodate his use of tiger claws. Despite the man's massive size and bulky build, he was pulling off all the agile moves very precisely. The first time she had seen him do it, she nearly died of pride. It was so heartening seeing someone studying the combat styles of her people. Or studying her people at all. There were times that she was afraid her culture might disappear, possibly even in her lifetime.
But there were more pressing matters occupying her mind. So she took a deep breath and again adjusted her tabard. 'He will not notice if I do not point it out.' She silently repeated one last time before stepping out of the archway and approaching the martial arts practicing bounty hunter, stopping just out of his reach. "Amarant, I must speak with you." She said, standing up as strait as she could.
"This better be good, you're making me lose count." Amarant said, not missing a beat.
"Would I be interrupting you if it were not important?"
"Wouldn't be the first time." Amarant said, continuing unphased.
Freya sighed, wondering weather or not he would notice if she simply blurted it out.
"Is this going to take very long? I want to get through four more of these before I quit." He asked as he side stepped slightly around her and started the kata again from the beginning without even taking a momentary breather.
"That depends on how you take my news."
"News?" He seemed slightly interested now but did not stop his rhythmic flailing. "What kind of news? That rat-boy boyfriend of your wander off again?"
"Fratley is thankfully no longer my concern." She said resolutely.
"You're not leaving again, are you?" He finally stopped to look at her.
She looked away. "I hope I will not have to."
He took the position to start again. "What? You've got some weird disease? You're in love with a dwarf? I don't know. Spit it out."
She steeled herself. "Amarant, I'm pregnant."
He stopped dead in his tracks, his arm frozen mid slash. For a moment, he seemed shell shocked, not sure what to make of it. She only folded her hands patiently, awaiting his response. After a moment, he slowly brought his arm down and turned to her. "Are you serious?" Was all he managed to say.
"I would not joke about something like this, not with you." She said with all seriousness. After a moment of receiving only his dumbfounded stare, she looked down at her tummy and continued. "That is unfortunately not all. I went to see a doctor today and he gave me some rather… unsettling news." She looked up at him again. "He told me that this child is… the wrong size for my body to be able to support with any ease. He said it is unlikely I will live through the pregnancy, and even if by the grace of God, I do manage to carry the child to term, I will not survive the delivery." She awkwardly fidgeted her furry hands together. It was the first time Amarant had ever seen this pillar of strength and bravery actually seem nervous. "So that brings us to a cross roads. Do I tread the dangerous waters and try to keep the child or-"
"You talk like there's some kind of decision to be made here," Amarant cut her off, "Get rid of it." He placed his giant hands on her shoulders, shaking her lightly. "I don't want to lose you."
She looked up at him, her emerald eyes burning underneath her worn Dragoon helm. "You may lose me either way." She said a little sadly. "You seen, I really want this baby. I feel this may be my last chance to be a mother, and even though the stakes are rather high, I feel that it is worth a shot."
"Hell, yeah, the stakes are high!" He shook her one more time before letting her to and taking a step back. "Your life is on the line here. Is some kid really worth that?!"
"It is a risk I am willing to make." She said, standing up as strait as she could and looking him directly in the eyes.
"Well, it's not a risk I'm willing to make!" He yelled, seemingly losing his cool. But he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. As he slowly let it out, he lowered his head, hiding his face behind his crop of flaming red dreadlocks. After a moment, he continued. "I've lost too many people in my life; I don't want you to be among them."
She stepped forward and gently placed her clawed hand on his cheek, carefully running her fingers through his scruffy facial hair. It was an unusually intimate gesture on her part, forcing him to look at her again. She had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen spread across her rodent face. "Do you trust me?"
"It's that think I don't trust." He said pointing at her stomach.
She sighed. "Maybe you just need a new perspective. Would you like a night to sleep on it?"
He paused for a moment. "Yeah, maybe that'll be good." Then he smiled and put his hand on her hip. She rolled her eyes; he knew she hated it when he did that. His hand was big enough that when the heel of his palm was on the front of her pelvic bone, his fingers reached all the way to the base of her tail. That was the only place on her body that was ticklish.
Without a word, she took as step back out of his reach. She only flashed him a momentary smile before turning and walking back into the castle, leaving him alone and bewildered in the courtyard.
'She doesn't look very pregnant.' He thought as he watched her go. 'Maybe she's just getting more creative with that armor.' His mind continued to wander as he slowly sat down on the cold ground. God damn, it gave him problems the first time he tried to take it off of her. They were both covered head to foot with the blood of the dragon they just killed, both of their first challenging enemy since they stood side by side with Zidane in the battle against the god of death.
Their strategy was fairly simple; she would attack from the front while he attacked from the sides. And while he was perforating the creature's wings, she would go for its throat. Too bad she misjudged her jump the first time and nearly landed in its gaping maw. She was clearly out of practice. What had she been doing for the last year? How could returning to Burmecia have mellowed her so much? As she came down from her jump for a second attack, anticipating her poor aim, Amarant swung up the dragon's neck and grabbed its horns, forcing its head back so she could slice cleanly through its exposed neck.
After it breathed its last, Freya jumped off its corpse and took a step back, seemingly happy with the monumental trophy lying in front of her. Amarant stood on its now motionless shoulder, just watching her. Once she finally noticed him standing there watching her, all the pleasure drained from her face and was replaced with the most perplexing expression he had ever seen. It was the oddest assortment of confusion, seemingly not at him or what they had just done, but more at herself or possibly the situation.
He wasn't entirely sure what was passing through his head as he leapt off the dragon's back and began to approach her, stopping about five feet away. They just stood there staring at each other for a good whole minute before the silence was broken by her spear clattering loudly to the ground. He wasn't sure if she dropped it or if he ripped it from her hands but less than a second later, he swept her up in his arms, covering her filthy, matted face with kisses.
Looking back, he couldn't say exactly what was driving him. Maybe it was the adrenaline of facing down such a worthy opponent after such a long time. Or maybe it was that she was making such quick work of the straps of his shirt. He managed to let go of her long enough to pull her tabard off over her head but was then met by the sheer wall of her armor. He growled, he did not want to try to solve this puzzle box, he just wanted what was inside it, to claim every inch of her as they had just claimed the life of the dragon behind them.
So as she cast aside his shirt and began work on his pants, he simply reached over her shoulders and ripped off the cross leather straps holding her shoulder guards to her hip guards and indeed holding the whole suit together. And without them, the series of metal plates that had once been her regal Burmecian armor slid harmlessly to the ground. But underneath, he realized, she somehow wore a whole different set of armor! It was a bizarre set of interlocking metal bands around her stomach with chain mail covering her hips and hanging half way down her thighs. It came up just barely under her modest breasts and clung to her shoulders by thin leather suspenders.
"My god!" Amarant yelled, exasperated. "You wear two sets of armor? Do you just not want anyone inside?!"
"Firstly, Mr. Wise guy, that is the entire idea. Secondly…" She paused, looking away. "I'm a lot skinnier than I would like."
Amarant gingerly released the straps, the armor tumbling to the ground around her feet, leaving her in only her white silk under armor outfit. She was a lot less than hardy than Amarant imagined, but her standing there covered in sweat and blood; she was the most gorgeous thing he had ever seen. "Skinny or not, Freya, you are beautiful to me." He said as he reached forward and flicked off her helmet.
Before her helmet even hit the ground, she leapt up into his muscular arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and covering his face and neck with kisses. She was right, she was really skinny, he felt like he could almost crack her in half if he grabbed her too tight. She would tell him later it was from spending most of her adult life eating nothing but military rations. But none of that mattered because only a few seconds later, with the last of their clothes discarded, he had her flat on her back. That first time he pushed himself into her, as she writhed beneath him, that was the most ecstatic moment of his life. Although she complained for the next two days that she was sore because he was just too big. He could only laugh at her, saying that was not something girls usually complained about.
And now she was pregnant, he realized, snapping back to reality. How long ago was that first time? It had to have been almost a year ago now. Yeah, it was mere weeks after Zidane had cone sweeping back into their lives after the lonely year everyone thought he was dead. Zidane had really been the glue that held the whole group together. And even though he almost immediately married Dagger and knocked her up, it was his influence that kept the wander lust, and thus the standard kind of lust, alive in both Amarant and his now bedmate. But their relationship had been tenuous at best, primarily because they needed to keep it secret from the very people who pushed them together. Maybe it was just their pride getting the best of them, but it somehow moved unspoken between them that no one, especially Zidane and company, was to know about their now romantic relationship.
And now she's pregnant, he silently repeated to himself again. On top of that, she was going to die because her slender Burmecian body couldn't carry his child. "God damn it." He muttered.
