First attempt at fanfiction writing in what seems like forever, making another stab at an old idea. With apologies to Mystic who assisted me years ago, but rules states no duplication.
As per standard: All relevant Intellectual Property belongs to its owners.
Weary eyes gazed into the sky, the red haze of a low sun mirroring the gazer's tired expression before drifting back to what was best described as a "Pile" of literature and studies. It had been a very long day for Queen Garnet til Alexandros and it was still somehow not complete. "Doctor Tot..." she began, trying her best to suppress the oncoming yawn "I thank you for your research, but surely all of ...this... wasn't necessary to bring to me directly." The young queen gestured in front of her.
The whole situation had been her own fault to begin with: a shooting star in the night's sky had seemed to be the most innocuous event, a moment of beauty and nothing more, but the moving light was visible after sunset for several days and the word "Comet" started to be hurled around, smashing the calm like a brick thrown through the window. The citizens of Alexandria and Lindblum began to whisper about omens, the death of nations still fresh in the minds of the Mist Continent. The Queen was quick to respond, sending as many scholars as she could afford to scour the texts in the city of Daguerro, search the bizarre Ispen's Castle and delve into the castle's own archives to find any information. With the events of Terra sparking fears of otherworldly involvement, it was a prudent measure to find something to dissuade fears of some great collapse. It may have been an omen, but that didn't mean it had to be all doom and gloom... it just didn't appear from the research to be anything at all.
"You were very specific about finding all the information, your Majesty." The bespectacled bird replied, taking great care to be as diplomatic in tone as possible. "And this does mark the tenth recorded sighting of a comet since the records began, multiple nation's records with their own perspective, in case there was any discrepancies between the accounts including a period four hundred and seventy years ago which seemed to include two sightings within the year but was actually a result of different dating conv-"
"I see." Garnet said firmly, closing the dusty tome and the discussion. "I hope you're having a better day than I, Zidane..." she muttered under her breath.
The deafening yells from the castle courtyard was one of the few things keeping Zidane's eyes open as he nonchalantly dragged his heels across the wall, pretending to look down and not snore. He had earnestly been trying to pay attention to Steiner as he clanked his way along, explaining various things that the former thief and current King was supposed to pay attention to and understand but went so far over his head that it could have hit the peak of a mountain for all the young man got of it.
Volunteering to go out and do inspections on the town's upkeep from the castle walls had seemed like a decent idea at first: some exercise during normal hours, he liked to think that years of casing palaces, mansions and various places full of money had given him a bit of an eye for architectural detail, fresh air... but it seemed he had traded boring court duties for other boring duties, only offering non-commital "Okay..." remarks when it looked as though Steiner needed him to make some sort of contribution. "So... Rusty," he yawned over the sound of the Pluto Knight's recruitment drive "is that everything or am I going to actually have to do something?" Zidane asked, dropping any pretence of paying attention.
"Your Grace-" Steiner began, ever formal.
"How many times have I asked you to stop calling me that?" Zidane asked, his tail swinging back and forth "we've been through enough that you can skip the formalities." he waved off.
"Zidane," Steiner corrected himself, still in a tone that made the blonde wince "I cannot officially make these decisions without approval, while it is an honour that you trust me, as King you are not merely the one who presses a seal into wax."
"I know, I know!" Zidane groaned, kicking a loose pebble across with a click "But you know this sort of thing way better than I do and it's not anything I can do just spur of the moment, everything has to have about five years of planning and plotting so I-" the blonde thief ranted, stopping to pause for breath before folding his arms in resignation over the battlements. "I've just got to work harder, keep at it..." he mumbled to himself, clutching the bridge of his nose. The shift from rags to royalty was a painful one, things expected of a monarch like ceremony, what's important for keeping a city running, what to do with the army, all subjects that anyone sitting next to the Queen's throne would have been well versed from an early age, while Zidane had spent his few younger years learning how to pick pockets and chase skirts, not order people around for some grand design that may or may not actually exist. "Actually, I've seen enough for today. Thanks Rusty..." he sighed as he pulled himself off the wall, trying to walk with a little more purpose back to the main castle, trying to make it seem as though he wasn't just sulking away.
Shedding the royal outfit the moment the heavy doors closed behind him, Zidane stretched out as he felt the cold marble underneath his feet, "Freedom..." he yawned as he made his way to the armoire
and reached for a switch at the back, flicking it to reveal one of the things nearest and dearest to his heart. A white undershirt, a turquoise waistcoat and a pair of blue slacks, just looking at them built a warmness of nostalgia that even the cold floor couldn't cool, putting them on was just the oh so comfortable icing on the cake. After ten years of wearing the same outfit again and again it still held it's appeal, such as adequate tail room, Zidane was so lost in his own past that he didn't even hear the door open and close until the party responsible made herself known. "That bad of a day?" The sweet tones of the queen were quick to snap him out of the stupor, spinning around to show his Dagger the awkward grin of guilt.
"Well, I just thought...heh..." he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders and scratching the back of his neck in a vain attempt to pass off his current attire as meaning nothing.
"That you long for the days of adventure on the open plain, camping underneath the moonlit sky, surrounded by friends, companions and lovers?" Dagger asked with her own grin, enjoying the sight of her husband sweating under her gaze.
"Yes! I mean no! I mean-" Zidane stumbled, trying to fit his mind around the situation before Dagger put a calming hand on his shoulder.
"Its alright," she sighed, looping her arms around her "I do to..." she whispered as her head gently pressed into his chest "It still feels rough as it ever was." she complained, raising her eyes to meet Zidane's with a coy glance.
"If you wanted me to take it off, my Queen," the king began in an overly theatrical tone, scooping Dagger off the floor with both arms to an excited giggle "then you only had to ask."
There were a few perks with the responsibilities, Zidane reflected under the weight of a million feathers, and the size of the bed was one of them. Wide enough for him to perform what he called "Kingly Duties" without either of the couple having to sleep in the resulting patch of sweat, even if it had lead to him sleeping dangerously close to the edge of the mattress. An unfortunate turn in an attempt to encase himself with more chocobo down had let him to slowly slip, consciousness returning quickly as he fell off the side in preparation for a collision with the tiles below that never came, instead Zidane's quickly outspread arms collided with what felt, sounded and collapsed like rotten timber as he fell further and further down.
The taste of dirt in his mouth forced his eyes to open and see what just happened, and a quick glance around told him nothing useful. Stained glass shone in light from every side, a slight buzz echoed in his ears and strangely enough, he was still wearing the outfit he had worn a year ago travelling the world. That last fact caused him to relax, a dream, that's what it was. One of those dreams that you become aware is actually a dream, so next he would turn to his side and see Dagger right next to him, in what appeared to be a flower bed, in the brown tights with the white top, gloves and yup, there it was!
Was he that desperate for a return to the old days that his dreams about them were becoming that more vivid? A strange world with weird lights and a church with a hole in the roof, he would have expected a different location, perhaps Black Mage Village or Dali instead of a place he had never seen, but he didn't claim to understand dreams, especially ones that smelt and sounded as though he was actually there in the strange place. Not with another girl nervously peeking her head through the door. "Um... hello?" He called out, pulling himself up of the dirt and flowers just as Dagger started to rise herself, feeling every ache as though he had taken a rather nasty fall... starting to feel as though there was something going on that he probably should have figured out by now.
"...Zidane?" Dagger groaned, shaking her head back and forth "Is this a ...where are we?" She asked, staggering back to her feet, a little unsure of her footing.
"I uh... don't know, my dreams are getting weird." He said, unable to think of anything else to say.
"But... your dream? I thought that... oh dear." Dagger replied, realization quickly dawning on her face.
"Crap..." Zidane groaned, scuffing the dirt with his heel as the same conclusion got through to him, not a dream. Strange place and not a dream, this was pretty bad.
"Ummm... excuse me, but could you not hurt the flowers?" The girl at the door asked.