Mornings in Alexandria were memorable to all who frequented the city. For its permanent citizens, they too relished dawn washing over to stir those still slumbering. Merchants restocked their stands, children played in the streets, and birds sang distant songs in harmony. It was Beatrix's favorite time to patrol the castle's perimeter, often pausing along the waterfront to marvel in the glory which was their home.
Today wasn't one of those days.
The night was seemingly endless—a waking nightmare, if she ever saw one. Fire rained down from the skies and still marked as the least of their worries. Nothing prepared any of them for the inevitable destruction. Word had it Beatrix once bested a hundred men solo, but even her strength amounted to nothing. The enemy won. She had failed Alexandria.
Steiner might have told her otherwise, but her eyes didn't lie to her. In her morning stroll, her usual, proud stride was traded for dawdling. Ruined buildings and broken homes paved her path. The cries of Alexandrians filled the empty skies instead of songbirds. Some wept over lost loved ones, some in search of parents, and some simply as a means to relieve the stress. Regardless, it all stemmed from the same cause.
This could have been prevented, Beatrix thought at one point.
But how? Steiner's words continued to haunt her; she had done everything she could in her power to keep Alexandria alive. Such a burden shouldn't have balanced on her shoulders alone. She was not, after all, a one-woman army, much to the disbelief of the public and her peers. Nothing which led up to the events of that fateful night was her doing. However, Beatrix argued that if she had acted earlier, either in regards to Brahne or Kuja, then maybe she and countless, innocent souls wouldn't be claiming rubble as their home.
Halfway through the patrol, her lips carved a downward curve in her face. None of them could have prevented the calamity.
But buildings could be repaired and rebuilt, after all. It would take time, but they could reconstruct a place to call home again. The thought almost had Beatrix smile, albeit briefly. It all vanished when she approached her favorite place along her patrol—the waterfront.
She didn't expect the Queen to be there, though. Then again, Garnet lacked a royal chamber. Even if Garnet possessed a proper bed, Beatrix doubted the young lady received even an hour's worth of sleep. Beatrix didn't, spending the entire night pacing with a tight hand along Save the Queen's hilt.
Maybe she needs to be left alone, Beatrix thought, watching Garnet from a distance. She's already seen too much for one her age. I shouldn't bother her from a moment of peace.
Before Beatrix could pivot on her heels to leave, she caught the sound of a sharp gasp laced within painful sobs. Snapping her head back, she gazed upon Garnet in time to catch sight of her crumbling to her knees. Trembling arms wrapped around her body as she succumbed to the tears, each one rushing down her face to roll off her chin.
Without a second thought, Beatrix bolted to Garnet.
"Your Majesty!" Beatrix dropped to her knees before Garnet, who never lifted her head to acknowledge the General.
She parted her lips to ask if everything was alright, only to swallow down that stupid choice of words. Of course nothing was alright. How could anything be well in their world? And for so long—too long—Garnet had been groomed and polished to never flinch or sway before the hardships in life. She was royalty and a proper lady had duties to uphold, even if it was to stand pretty all day.
But no one ever prepared her for this, for the day everything would crumble around her. Where were the lessons about rebuilding a fallen empire in between all of her lessons on etiquette and history? Who was to help her prepare for the travesty which would tear her mind and body apart?
As much as Beatrix wanted to dump the blame on someone residing in the past, none of it mattered now; what Garnet needed was support.
Thus she pulled the Queen into her arms, clutching her quivering body. Beatrix buried her face into Garnet's neck and dared to never let go.
"I'm here for you," she whispered into Garnet. "We all are. Whatever it is you need, Your Majesty. You let me know. I only wish to help. The city may be gone, but my devotion towards you hasn't. I am, and always will be, at your command." She squeezed Garnet. "Never forget that."
While Garnet spoke not a word in return, her arms enveloped Beatrix to return the sentiment. Her tears splashed onto Beatrix's neck as she attempted to muffle her cries. All the while, Beatrix smoothed a hand over Garnet's head and back.
And when the tears refused to disperse, Beatrix pulled back enough to bring her lips to Garnet's face, banishing them with tender kisses. As for Garnet, her hysterical sobs calmed down to quiet sniffles.
Their eyes met first, then their noses. Beatrix held her breath and waited for the Queen to something. Anything.
She wasn't sure which was worse—the cries or the silence.
