A/N: A couple of things I should mention before you commence on this new story.
Firstly, the story does take place within the game, but the plot will have little to do with the actual story. I have written with my own plot in mind, not in keeping accurate to the game. This may lead to some faults, which I'm hoping you will overlook.
Secondly, the story is somewhat inspired by the amazing book series The Gentleman Bastard Sequence. It's by no means a crossover, but readers of the series may find similarities.

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy IX is the property of Squaresoft.

THE BETROTHED

Chapter one – The New Game

I

The Fat Qu's Pub was widely known for the best lager, the finest wenches and the most interesting assortment of customers in all of Treno. It also had the steamiest gossip, no rumors ever getting past the beautiful bar-made. When princess-in-hiding Dagger decided to seek out a pub, it went without saying it would have to be the best, no matter what area it excelled at. The Fat Qu's was the obvious choice.

Edging open the door, she was hit full in the face by a thick haze of smoke and all the smells such a place had to offer. The pleasant buzz of chatter filled her ears, at last cancelling out the sound of rain trickling against her hood. She wasn't like Zidane, who could stand in the rain for hours, arms thrust out, a childish grin overtaking his features. He would yell to her "can you imagine anything more amazing then this?"
As it was, she could imagine a number of things more amazing, or indeed tolerable. Still, she smiled fondly at the memory, pulling off her cloak, shaking off the water.

While Zidane had never been able to cure her resentment to rain, he had taught her a number of other handy tricks. Crossing the room to the counter, she gave her wrist a little twist, feeling the blade of the dagger she'd nudged up her sleeve. One right movement and she would be armed. She couldn't bring her rod, after all, or someone might be tipped of.

Despite the bar's many available tables, every chair at the counter was taken. Edging through the hoard of pickpockets and drunks, shoving them aside, while at the same time trying to look inconspicuous, she reached the counter and the reason for its crowdedness. Dagger felt a slight stab of irritation, eying the bar-made up and down. Zidane had done a good job of understating her beauty when he'd described her. Still, petty worries would have to be put aside now; she had a job to do.

II

It was drizzling slightly, but that was okay. Zidane had always been rather fond of the rain. That was certainly a rare quality, one that Baku had made full use of in his day, sending him out on scouting-duties that everyone else refused blankly. Save the rats of Burmecia, most Terrain creatures felt a natural aversion to rain and water. It was not until he'd discovered his extra-terrestrial origin that this mystery was solved.

Standing on the dark and deserted main street of Treno, the rain caressing his skin, trickling down his hair, he squinted through the darkness and rain. He was leaning casually against a lamppost, trying not to draw too much attention. But even as he stood there, eyeing the few people who actually ventured outside tonight, he knew it wasn't very convincing. Who, after all, would stand casually leaning against a lamppost in the middle of the nigh, soaking wet?

The light above him illuminated the little piece of sidewalk he stood on. But its scarce light only served to create an even denser darkens outside of this little circle of light. Doubt began to seep into him, just like the water. He'd been standing there for nearly two hours now. Alone. And Zidane wasn't good with alone. It got him thinking. Thought's like 'she isn't coming, you idiot,' and 'now we're never going to get that medicine in time, stupid, law-abiding princess.'

Kicking the lamppost, attempting to vent some of his frustration, he only ended up adding to his impressive assortment of bruises. The leather boot hit the metal-pole with a soft squish, water dripping from the leather.

"Nghh… Damn, stupid…"

A passerby sent him an irritated glance at his outburst, but that was really the least of his concerns. The water was picking up now, rendering him thoroughly soaked. Though he didn't really mind a bit of water, the cold had begun creeping into his boot-tips, eating away at his toes. And while the time was trickling steadily away like the rain, she still wasn't there. No gil, dangerously low supplies, one wounded comrade, another one missing and now perhaps a cold. It was bad. Really bad.

This, Zidane fumed, scowling up and down the street, this was precisely why he didn't work well with teams. Sure, he loved the companionship, the vanquishing of evil together. But he had, after all, left the Tantalus on no less than four occasions. He really couldn't stand waiting. It just wasn't his nature.

Just as he'd made up his mind to go through with the plan on his own, someone's snicker could be heard through the rain, just at the fringe of the darkness.

"Dag? Is that you?" he hissed, looking around, trying to defy the shadows, breaking the limitations of his eyesight.

"Yes. Why are you kicking stuff?"

"Why are you two hours late?"

Still grinning, Dagger stepped out of the shade and into the circle of light.

"What? Haven't you been bragging about how you're basically a gizamaluke on land?"

She was wearing her hood and cloak over her usual outfit. A smart move, given the rain that was pouring down in ever greater quantities.

"That wouldn't have been much to brag about, babe. Fish are ugly."

Rolling her eyes in an impressive imitation of Blank, she stepped closer, grabbing his arm.

"Come. No point in standing here anymore."

"Oh, yeah. Cus' that would be really boring. And cold," he huffed, but let himself be dragged along. Actually they couldn't hang about there any longer, even if they did want to. Dagger had been late, and they were already behind in their plans.

She led the way, taking off from the main street, into a smaller alley. They didn't have to walk far before the stately architecture morphed into rundown alleyways and seedy pubs. The raindrops bounded of Dagger's cloak. He had no such luck, his thin shirt plastering to his skin. Clutching his hand, she made a sudden turn, pulling them under an abandoned marquee. Edging in between the barrels and boxes, she pulled her hood back at last.

"So, what news?" he asked.

III

"Pardon…," she called out to the bar-wench, "hey, excuse me…HEY!"

The woman turned, eyeing Dagger with resentment. Still, she couldn't afford to be picky about her customers. Swallowing the urge to give the dark-haired beauty a reprimand for screaming at her, she set up a cheerful, and decidedly fake expression.

"Sorry love, didn't hear you," the woman drawled, her voice thick with accent. "What can I do you for?"

Dagger in turn had to swallow the compulsion to correct the woman's grammar, and went straight to the point.

"I'm looking for a man, Jules. I'm told you know were to find him."

The woman pointed, with a rug-filled hand at a nearly empty table. Three men were crammed around a game of tetra, and there was no knowing which of them she was looking for. Still, she thanked the woman by discreetly sliding some gil over the counter.

"Thanks."

IV

"Not wise. I'd use the oglop card if I were you."

A singsong voice cut through Jules concentration. As if the night wasn't bad enough to begin with. In irritation, bordering on rage, he threw his cards down, looking up to find that the intrusion came in the form of a young woman.

"If you were me, you would be the record-holder for highest tetra-score in all of Treno," he snapped, hoping to send her on her way. Unfortunately he had no such luck.

"Well, not for long. But no matter, I'm not here to discuss card-games. Can I take a seat?"

After a rather painful and financially crippling breakup a few months ago, Jules had sworn of women altogether, if one didn't count the occasional wench he brought to his room for a little nocturnal activity. So, if not for the lady's business-like attitude, he would have sent her on her way. But Jules knew a deal when he saw one. Ever the pragmatic man, he eyed her up and down before he gave an approving, though curt nod.

"Thanks," the woman said brightly, pulling out a chair from a neighboring table, and edging in between Jules and his more sizable chum, Aue. Deciding that enough time had been wasted, Jules picked up his cards to resume the game.

Upon further though, the woman had actually been right about his hand. As his opponent snatched another point, he turned to her, smiling slyly at her apprehending expression.

"Would you mind bringing me another scotch dear?"

Flipping her a coin, not heeding her insulted frown, he was free to change his hand, thus reclaiming his lost point. Next to him, Aue squirmed uncomfortably, making his chair creek in warning. He raised the glass to his lips, swirling the little scotch left around, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at his burly partner.

"That chair is gonna break if you don't sit still."

Aue looked back apprehensively, interpreting it as an invitation to speak.

"You know her? That woman?" he asked, nodding towards the counter where the dark-haired girl was ordering his third drink for the night. It was still early though.

"Does it look like it?"

Card's kept on hitting the table at an almost established rhythm. He claimed two more points before Aue spoke again.

"And you though it wise to just invite her to the table? Now," he hissed with a meaningful glance at the table next to them.

"Alright, keep your trap shut," he hissed back. No need for the plan to tank on such a bagatelle as careless speech. "She might bring some valuable information. Besides," Jules added, eyeing the intruder yet again, "how dangerous could she possibly be?"

"I dunno… You never know man…"

Aue's voice trailed away into silence, as the woman progressed back to the table. Maneuvering through the crowd, carefully balancing the brimful glass of liquor, she reached them just as Jules was claiming his opponent's mithril-card as a well-earned price.

"Two out of three?" the man offered, reluctantly withholding his most precious card.

Jules did only need to send Aue a sideways glance, prompting the man to crackle his knuckles in warning. The other man reluctantly handed over his card. Stacking it in his pile before showing the cards into a small leather pouch, he once again bestowed the woman with his attention.

"So, what's your name, babe?"

"Sara."

"Sara huh. Beautiful name." He took a sip, looking her over more carefully. "So, why have you come here to interrupt my game Sara?"

She took a deep breath, seemingly gathering courage to say whatever was on her mind. With one hand tugging at the sleeve of the other, foot tapping rhythmically against the wooden floors, she finally opened her mouth.

"I have a proposition," she began, voice once more business-like. "How would you feel about being included in a new game?"

V

Making contact, that was the easy part. Now she would have to be persuasive. She felt her fingers brush against the dagger's edge without thinking, and quickly jerked her hand away. As expected, the man in front of her deflated slightly, suddenly loosing some of his bravado. His eyes flickered between the man at her other side and the glass in his hands.

"A game?" A pointy tongue flickered out from between his lips. "Where have you been of late? We don't do that anymore. Confidence games are banned."

"Oh, I know."

This was apparently the last thing Jules expected. A straightforward confession of the dangers involved in her proposition. And like Dagger had anticipated, to Jules that turned a proposition into a challenge. Where he would generally have brushed her off, he now at least had to consider it, lest ending up looking like a coward.

"Let me see if I've got this straight. You're planning to pull a confidence game here, in Treno. Even though you know the risks and even though no one has successfully managed to con the nobles for years?"

She nodded in confirmation. "Yes."

"And you are propositioning me to be your partner?"

"Yes."

She flexed her wrist, dagger at the ready. Skepticism amongst thieves was never good. Far too often a misunderstanding turned into … something more. Jules leaned across the table towards her, face uncomfortably close.

"Why?"

"Because I can't do it alone. And neither can you."

"That's true. But I have no intention of breaking the code."

At this she gave a snicker. Utterly fake, of course, but enough to put an expression of trepidation back in Jules' smug face.

"Breaking the code or not, your still deep in trouble if you don't find some way of paying down that gambling debt."

He actually flushed. Though it was hardly visible through the beard and suntanned, leathery skin, there was a decidedly pink tone to his cheeks. She didn't wait for him to come up with an answering scathing remark, but pressed on.

"Look, I already have the job figured out. All you need to do is use some of your contact's and play along for the actual con."

Aue, who had done his job by keeping silent thus far, gave in at last. With another bout of squirming, he finally slammed his fist against the table, calling on everyone's attention.

"And all this while The Dismas is walking about, with his spies everywhere?"

"Oh, don't you worry about him," Dagger scoffed. This was it, this was the tricky part. Hand at the ready, she braced herself, ready to jump up and run at any moment. "He isn't as fearsome as you all seem to thing, The Dismas."

After month of training, Zidane's endless nagging, and evening after evening in different pubs honing her skills, Dagger soon discovered they were still painfully lacking. With the sound of breaking glass, the smell of scotch tugging at her nostrils, she felt her back slam into the table. Air knocked out of her lungs, the world turning just a bit darker, she could hear movements on every side. People were standing up, chairs clattering to the floor as thirty people scrambled for the door all at once. Not one stopped to help her throw this man off.

Though slightly disappointed with people's indifference to her possible demise, she was close to what one would call unflappable. And though it was ever so tempting to slide her dagger into her hand, make a quick stab and then make a run for it, she couldn't. This was the crucial point. Next to her she could hear Aue hiss, "What are you doing? Come on, let's go."

"What? And just leave her? What if she works for him?"

So it was Jules pinning her down. She could feel the vibration of his body flush against her when he spoke.

"And if she does? If you kill her, then he'll really be on our back."

"So what do you propose we do?"

Suddenly the weight sifted. There was some struggle, limbs being pressed into her gut, before suddenly she was free.

"Listen," Aue whispered, pushing Jules further back away from her. "If she really is in league with The Dismas, then this is a deal we can't refuse."

Large hands wrapped around her waist before suddenly she was hoisted into the air. The bar came into focus again, though now virtually deserted. The only other people there was Jules, Aue and the bar-wench still cleaning away as if nothing had happened.

"Right then," Jules said, calling her attention back. "Tell us about this new game of yours."

VI

The once sun-yellow marquee, now faded into a light beige colour, actually made fine shelter. Nudged in between the barrels and boxes, Zidane suddenly found himself pressed flush against his partner, only separated by a few layers of soaked clothing. Surprisingly, Dagger didn't seem to mind the lack of personal space. No, it was him that felt uncomfortable. Not that he didn't appreciate the feel of her soft and pliant curves pressed against him from feet to neck. It was rather that he feared he might come to appreciate it a little too much. Or certain parts of him would. This fear did not subside as she began whispering in his ear.

"I went to The Fat Qu's. He was there, Jules."

Lust was momentarily replaced by confusion. The Fat Qu's? Why had she been there? Quickly going over their plan in his head, he couldn't remember anything about a bar stop.

"So that's where you've been for the past hours? At a bar? With Jules?"

"Calm down," she hissed, her warm breath caressing his ear. "He's perfect! And I made contact just like you taught me to."

Had there been enough room, Zidane would have jerked back, eyeing her in disbelief. Perhaps even give her a shake for good measure. As it was, all he could do was to slide his hand up her arm, squeezing it in a manner that was more seductive than apprehensive. Her breath, a little fast and shallow, did nothing to lessen this impression.

"Contact? With Jules?" his voice was high-pitched in disbelief.

"Yes, with Jules. Will you quit saying his name like that?" she hissed.

He was about to snap back, when a crashing noise further down the alley silenced them both. She really ought to stop walking about like this, Zidane thought furiously. Sure, there were a certain sort of thrill over it at the beginning. But too much had happened now. Too many injured. Watching Dagger put herself through danger after danger, was simply exhausting. Still, there didn't seem to be any danger now. The sounds soon showed themselves to emanate from a couple of drunken nobles that had taken a wrong turn and suddenly ended up rather far from home. Stumbling about, they made their way down the alley, not even noticing the two figures, pressed together underneath the yellow marquee. Dagger breathing steadily still, Zidane could feel his body caving in. Where he'd been frozen moments before, a pleasant, dull warmth began to spread. Her lips, warm and soft and inviting, were only inches away. All he needed to do was to turn his head just a bit. Then that wonderfully warm breath would be trickling across his lips instead. And why shouldn't he be allowed to kiss her exactly? Wasn't she trying to blend in, act like any other girl? Any other girl would have kissed him by now for sure. He began leaning forward, drawing in the cent of her skin. Up close, it was so white, as if she'd barely ever taken a step outside in the sunlight. With the tip of his nose, be brushed lightly up against her cheek, almost accidentally. Her entire body gave away a little shudder, though if it came from her own growing desire or just cold Zidane couldn't be sure. In the end he was the first to break the silence.

"Why?" he asked, voice barely audible.

"Huh?"

"Why were you meeting Jules at a pub?"

"I…" Dagger stuttered, having seemingly lost her train of thought. "I had a proposition to make."

If Zidane had though he couldn't be more confused, she just proved him wrong. He pulled away as far as was possible in the confined space, trying to get a good look at her face. But no smile was playing about her lips. She was absolutely serious.

"What sort of proposition?"

"We need three for a proper confidence game."

"A confide-? Dagger, are you out of your mind?"

He's voice was still little more than a whisper, but the tone was so menacing and disapproving, that she actually flinched. He continued in a slightly softer voice.

"Dag, I've told you this. Confidence games are banned. Seriously, you don't want to get dragged into this."

"I though we needed the money," she said, defensively. "I mean, you said we should do a con-job."

He sighed, pulling her closer again as a small means of comfort. He supposed she meant well, although sometimes that girl could be so naïve.

"Yes, yes we do need the money. And the fastest way would certainly be to pull a game. But… this is a different sort of Treno than the one you're used to Dag. It's changed here now. There's a new Dismas. It's just too dangerous."

Now it was Dagger's turn to fire up. She placed her palms against his chest, shoving him away from her into the hard boxes behind him.

"I'm not as stupid as you all seem to think, Zidane," she spat, body tense with anger. "I listen to what you say, I observe what you do. Don't you think I haven't learned anything?"

Just this incident proved that she really hadn't, but Zidane though it best not to anger the lady further.

"I have a plan," she said insistently. "A new game all planned out."

She managed to somehow look both eager and angry at the same time. The silence stretched out as he waited for her to explain further, rain tapping distractingly at their shelter.

"This game is foolproof, because this game is played with The Dismas himself."

A/N: Alright, I know this was all a bit confusing. But I promise, in the next chapter the setting and our heroes situation will be explained. Still, I hope you were able to look past the more bewildering bits, and enjoyed the first chapter of the story.

If you did, or even if you didn't, I'm still dying for some feedback, so you might as well hit the review button and leave a few words.