Opening notes from the author:

Hello everyone! My former username was daggertrepe/chittylafemme, and I was the author of the highly inquired of, "Bones of an Idol". I have renamed it, aptly, as "Rilkean Heart". And, as all my works, the title is indeed after a song. This one is by Cocteau Twins, so I really don't own the title.

I don't own anything except for the original characters.

If you listen to the song, you will eventually understand why I have named the fic after that it.

I have been reading Rilke as of late, and have felt inspired by his delicate words, so I will incorporate a relevant poem a chapter. I also felt that since the story is focused on what would be the equivalent of a family of German descent (The Steiners), Rilke is an apt source of inspiration for this story. And, as we all know, FFIX and its characters have hearts of gold, which Rilke himself is known for.

For those of you who have read my fanfics before, the story will be centered around Lilia Steiner, but other characters will play a much bigger role than they previously did. So, fun for all your favorite characters and their children!

I was quite unhappy with how the story had progressed a few years ago and saw no way to fix it (I wrote and conceived it at 15). But, proceeding to use the same beloved characters (and more!), I feel confident that I have a much better, more enjoyable story at hand for your pleasure!

It is also true that I grab constant inspiration from unwinding fantasy's "Two Roads Converged", a story that seems to have sadly been stored in the unfinished archives at .

I will also start posting poems on every subsequent chapter. I am leaving the intro poemless.

So, without further ado, let us begin.

Side note: Let it be known that this first chapter may be up for a while until you see any new ones. Reason being is that I want to have all the chapters done at once so nobody is waiting on a cliffhanger that may never be resolved. Allow this chapter to serve as a refresher, and a taste of what is to come. The time frame is indefinite.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IX or any of its original characters. I also do not claim to be a good writer in any sense, so no unnecessary or mean comments, please!

The view from the window in the general's quarters had always been nothing short of magnificent. And in that very fashion, amongst other things, she has always considered herself beyond fortunate.

Her delicate, yet firmly strengthened fingers curled around the pale blue windowpane. She relished the gentle breeze swishing through the curtains, voyaging to the softening surface of her skin. The early April air was crisp with spring, the scent of magnolia, lilacs, and Alexandrian roses wafting to greet her awaiting senses. She had come to terms with the fact that she was indeed aging, and perhaps growing weaker, but other lives had now depended on her. This duty was the greatest duty that she had encountered, and there had been many.

One of her tried hands drifted over her rounded, swollen belly. Chimes danced in a minute, calming orchestra in the distance. The queen always was a creature of soundly comforts.

Beatrix turned her gaze downwards from the waterfalls in her direct line of vision, spotting her young daughter in the courtyard of the castle, chasing Queen Garnet's young son with a long, wooden stick, howling in a tone one may liken with a banshee. The poor young boy ended in a trip and fall, landing on the ground with an audible thud, Beatrix's energetic daughter never too quick to pounce upon her prey. The general knew that her otherwise very complacent, gentle, noble, and perfectly mannered young child had to tie up her loose ends somehow.

She smiled to herself and sighed, affirming that perhaps the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. Sounds of their tussle got lost around the bend as they disappeared from view.

"Prepare to die, meddlesome fool!" the girlish, shrill voice rang out, in a manner that was all too much like her father's.

"The paternal tree, more or less," Beatrix chuckled to herself, rubbing her belly once more. The feeling of her being pregnant for the second time was indeed strange, as she had not even anticipated the first one, much less the second one. A cold sensation trickled down her spine at this thought, and she was forced to reckon her feelings once more on her good fortune.

Still, the Rose General's contemplations always managed to wander back to anxieties, particularly at times like these, when everything was peaceful and very well. She felt, perhaps, that she felt she did not deserve the fortune that was bestowed upon her, upon her body, upon her very life.

She shook her head and attempted to dismiss the thoughts once more, knowing that she should not place such a stressful burden upon her unborn child. There was a always a fear, for any mother, of something going awry, perhaps a miscarriage, or worse, a birth defect that would make life very difficult for the child. Leopoldine Magnilde Steiner (or "Lea", as she liked to be called) had arrived into the world a slight bit jaundiced, but nevertheless healthy and beautiful as nature would allow any one child, while unmistakably taking after the lovely, gentle, and fine features of her mother's face.

She glanced down at her swollen breasts, now much too large for her frame (as if they weren't to begin with—always a curse in battle). She firmly shook her head. The clothes covering her were that of a pedestrian—a silken frock and silly black bottoms made of some cloth unknown to her.

Beatrix had anticipated this pregnancy would end just as well as the last, as she was already nine months pregnant and ready any day now, for the arrival of the next. This one, she knew, would physically take after Steiner, as that was how it always seemed to follow through with siblings, one after the other. An unmistakable inkling of gender peaked through, and suspected that against all of Steiner's prayers, chants, and masculinity rituals prepared and executed by him and his fleet, that the baby was, indeed, another girl.

"I am truly sorry, Adelbert."

She turned her gaze over to her right, in the opposite direction of the children in a tussle.

There he was, plain as day, prancing around the courtyard, sword erected upwards, passive hand on his hip, blade glinting from the light of the sun. There was some sort of party going on, with the Knights of Pluto following in the like, but Beatrix could not define for the life of her what exactly Steiner thought he was accomplishing. That stern, concentrated countenance tugged at her heartstrings. If there was one thing in the world that could melt the ice that constantly pervaded her heart, it was his expression.

"I fear that you would not understand, Beatrix. It is an ancient Steiner family ritual passed down through the ages. It is to guarantee a male heir, and has yet to fail!"

Beatrix did not bother to point out that it had already failed the first time. Yet still, she could not deny that Steiner absolutely adored their young daughter, and would not trade her in for the world.

One of her favorite past times was watching the young girl fall asleep on her father's chest after a long day of play, the last of it being with him for the last hours, and she always fell asleep looking into deep, dark, brooding eyes. He would then carry her up to her bed inside the castle, tuck her in, and resume duty. Sometimes, if they were lucky, they got to spend their evenings just being together.

Surely, he was not the most careful or precise of men, and certainly not the most tactful, but he was brimming with love, care, and adoration for the two main women in his life (minus the Queen, of course). And to Beatrix, this meant everything.

So, she took his last name.

It was partially because she unwittingly discovered that she would bear a child for him, days before Zidane's return. It had come as much of a shock to Steiner as it did to her; both believing it was simply impossible to have her battered body filled with child. Yet in her heart, from the moment he had asked her to stay with him to protect the Queen as a team, she knew that he was the one she was going to spend the rest of her life with—however long or short that life may be.

Marriage came as naturally to the both of them as dusk is born of daylight—though both of them had given up all hopes for marriage or a family when enlisting in the Alexandrian Army, or in his case, the Knights of Pluto. With child, she walked down the aisle in a simple white dress and veil, he being dressed in his best noble's attire, the queen being the only other one allowed present before the officiator.

It had been such a short affair, but a blessed one, nonetheless.

And every day Beatrix told herself she did not deserve it. Any of it.

A good, strong, willful husband whom she adores, and adores her in turn.

Two presumably healthy children.

The most gracious queen in the land to protect.

Many people that she has allowed herself to call family.

The blood-spattered fabrics of the past do not dematerialize. There is no reasoning one may find within themselves to make it so. Beatrix had always known this, yet the weight of it did not press upon her spirits until late. She was trying very hard not to take a single entity of her life for granted. But every moment of her fortune produced an equal amount of agony for her conscience. Every man she felled, at once in honor, in dignity, and duty…their faces, they all blended together to create the ghoulish face that haunted her macabre nightmares. Very often, though Steiner had concluded in was simply the 'mares of pregnancy', she had woken up in the middle of the night, screaming until she found that she had no voice left.

They would creep upon her, their skin ripped from their bodies, raw and hot, their blood spilling into each of her orifices, the arms tearing, the teeth chewing, her own screams drowned in the moans of vengeance.

The most chilling thing to Beatrix was that she simply could not forgive herself.

Of course, she was simply following orders. Orders. Orders and nothing more. Generals have an obligation to have full, unwavering faith and loyalty in the crown they vowed to defend.

But what shall they do when the crown has taken a turn for evil?

Beatrix reacted too late. And there was not one death in that year that she did not regret causing.

Very often, Steiner attempted to console her.

"I am just as guilty as anyone, my love. If anyone should feel guilty, it is I. I was not under the Queen's reign at the time—I acted of my own free will. But you! The Queen had made you her confidant. Her intimate. It was like a sisterhood. What were you to do? Certainly not defy her. Fear not, Beatrix. Please, try…to forgive yourself!"

It was not so simple, and he knew it. But he had to say something, anything, to try and make his wife feel better, enough so that she would not feel tempted to leave her life as it were, or worse, commit more atrocities of her own free will.

Her head had slumped onto his plate—begging herself not to cry, not to show vulnerability. He placed a hand on the back of her smooth, chesnut-brown hair. He knew that she was crying, and embraced her in the wake of the tears.

"I forgive you Beatrix. We all do. Please, stop being so hard on yourself. It is not optimal for your health."

Beatrix shook her head, pretending that Steiner did not see the tears pitter-pattering onto the iron plating of his boots.

"They do not forgive me in Burmecia, Adelbert. They never shall."

Steiner did not quite know how to answer her. He just let her cry silently, stroking her hair gently.

The General had often drifted off into the past as of late. She thought, perhaps, she was becoming soft of mind. She shook her head and redirected her attentions away from the window, sitting herself down gingerly on the bed. She sighed and turned her head towards her nightstand, gazing at the dozen red roses Steiner had picked for her from the gardens. It was true, he did truly love her, and in such an amazing, deep, thoughtful way. It was quite often that he had done little favors for her such as this, or had masterminded many small gifts throughout the month that made her beam with joy. She felt that he was one of the few men she knew who sought to understand his wife in an intimate way, and the second pregnancy had been no exception to this.

Again, she was lucky. So incredibly lucky.

Some time after she began gazing at the flowers, there was a soft, yet sharp knock on the door. Beatrix whipped her head sharply at the sound, and then smiled knowingly.

"Come in, your majesty," Beatrix called out.

Queen Garnet Til Alexandros XVII entered in a calm and quiet demeanor, as she always had. Though her adventures around Gaia and beyond had fired her personality up considerably, she was still as stately and elegant as always, being the ruler, and now mother, she was always destined to be. Her husband, however, was always another story. He didn't like to spend much time at the castle, as he was always out traveling, wandering around Gaia for his next adventure, but always came home to her in the end.

And somehow, it had surely strengthened their relationship. She was always in a state of pure ecstasy in his presence, something that is rare for a long-term marriage. Beatrix was very happy for both of them, knowing that they were both in mutual married bliss.

"Good day, Beatrix. How are you feeling so close to your due date?" Garnet asked, stepping closer to the general.

Beatrix shook her head, insistent on changing the subject.

"Worry not, your highness. All is well with the children and I. Is there a matter you wish to address with me?"

Garnet grinned ever so slightly, blushing, pushing herself up on her toes. Her hands were tied behind her back, and Beatrix immediately knew she was asking for a favor. She cleared her throat.

"Yes, I do. Zidane wishes to take Zerrick and I on a small vacation next month, for the entirety of the month. I know it is not usual of me to leave the castle for any small occasion, but I was wondering—

Beatrix waved her hands and shook her head.

"Do not be silly, my queen. You may take leave with the king. Adelbert and I will manage the affairs of the castle while you are away."

Garnet appeared to be surprised, and a little guilty in her blush. She blinked her eyes a few times.

"Really? It is just that I know your little tot is due any day now, and I do not want to burden you with too much responsibility."

"It is not a problem, Your Majesty. You know quite well what we are capable of handling," Beatrix replied with a small laugh, gesturing to the window at the screams of the children. "I just want you to promise me that you will have a wonderful time away."

The young queen then smiled a wide, gracious smile, and nodded her head once before joining Beatrix on her and Steiner's modest-sized bed. Garnet ran her hands over the fabrics and chuckled.

"I don't know how you share such a small bed with someone as large as Steiner!" she noted, searching for a playful reaction from Beatrix. The general, however, was simply not in the mood to banter with the queen. Garnet noticed this and changed the subject.

"Oh, I was only kidding, Beatrix. Hey! I also have something else I must confide in you, if you do not mind attending to my troubles at this moment…"

The older woman placed her attention back to the young woman, nodding her head in agreement.

"What is it, Your Highness?"

Garnet hesitated a bit longer than she might for any minor matter.

"Well…I suppose that you would find out sooner or later, but I figured that I should tell you now, so that you don't obtain the information from a second-hand source. You see…"

Garnet paused for a moment, unsure of how to continue, her features scrunched into a thoughtful expression, her eyebrows knitted together intently.

"Yes, my queen?" Beatrix prompted after many seconds of silence.

Garnet heaved a sigh, finally staring into the General's ruddy brown eyes.

"I am expecting my second child!" Garnet exclaimed, glad of the weight lifted from her chest, "I am probably around three or so months in. I wanted to wait to tell everyone, just in case I miscarried." Beatrix's mouth budged ever so slightly in her trademark, subtle version of excitement.

"That is wonderful news, Your Highness! Does the king know of this?" Beatrix asked. Garnet affirmed this.

"Yes, but Steiner does not yet have this knowledge. I plan on telling him after you have your child."

The two women tuned in to the shouts and chants coming from the open window, and looked at each other in great skepticism.

"And that would be why. I don't believe he's taking your pregnancy very well at the moment, let alone my own. He cannot be worried sick about both of us, you know. That alone with set the kingdom to a crumble."

The women gazed at each other lovingly, then giggled in agreement.

"I do believe that is an accurate assessment, Your Grace," Beatrix stated.

A rush of wind then found the general. She stood up immediately as she lost her breath, instinct telling her to look below at her feet. She felt the dampness of her undergarments, the humidity of it all that would allow her skin to scrunch. There it was: on the finished wooden floor under her feet, a puddle of amniotic fluids, much of it still running down her leg and through her pants. Garnet also stood up, staring in disbelief and shock at the tiny lake forming below the General's legs.

"Look away Your Majesty—this is not sight for a aqeen! Allow me to handle this—"

"Beatrix!" Garnet reprimanded, garnering a look of astonishment from the general. "I am also a woman, and one who has been through childbirth at that! You need someone to assist you to the medical wing…let me help you..."

Garnet reached over in a sudden movement, grabbing Beatrix's muscled arm.

"Your Highness…"

"Do not 'Your Highness' me right now! You are in labor! We must alert Steiner at once!"

Beatrix had no choice but to relent at the face the fledgling queen made at her.

"Then go and request his presence in the medical wing. Make haste!" Beatrix replied. "I will be fine to amble myself there."

Garnet stood a moment, observing Beatrix's questionable stance on her situation, then nodded and ran out of the chamber, Beatrix following in what, to her, felt like slow had been casted on her. The dreadful pain was starting to creep up her spine and seep into her lower back muscles, an unwelcome reminder of her first time in labor. She placed a hand on her hip, as was protocol for her, but this time, it was for pain only. She stumbled a long five minutes to the wing, shaking off any proposed assistance from her soldiers or the Knights of Pluto.

"This is no complication to concern yourselves with, now get back to your duties!" she shouted as they clambered and hovered the entire way there, most of them reluctant to let her walk on by herself. They understood that part of General Beatrix's job was to act as if nothing had worried or fazed her, but they could sense that she was in great physical pain.

The pregnancy had been a difficult one for Beatrix. Not because of any complications, but because of its implications. She was extremely bothered by the idea that her army thought her to be lax, conceivably ready to attempt to override her at any point. It was not that she did not trust them, specifically. She did not trust anyone. And thus, she tried never to mention her condition to anyone but the queen and Steiner. Eventually, her pregnancy became too difficult to render attention away from, and she had to temporarily step down as General of the Alexandrian Army. It was not something that she took lightly, nor was it something she took pleasure or relaxation in. Being a General and the duty inherent in that was what she loved most, besides being a mother to Leopoldine. She took great pride in her position, and to abandon it for any reason unrelated to the sheer guilt plaguing her conscience made her extraordinarily anxious.

She loved her queen. She loved her family. That much had been absolute, and always would be.

Finally, she had made it to the wing. The medical staff on duty immediately took her in to a labor room, knowing full well the situation at hand, and the agonizing hours that would go by before she was able to hold her baby in her arms. No amount of curing spells would be able to stave off the pain she was to feel.

But in that final moment after hours and hours of delivery—with Steiner, the queen, and eventually Leopoldine by her side, she had given birth to another baby girl, this one as just beautiful as the last, and just as healthy, though slightly smaller, and not at all jaundiced.

Steiner held the cooing infant in his arms, pressing the baby close to himself and leaned unto Beatrix, not appearing to be at all disappointed at the gender like Beatrix had expected. They beheld the unique and striking features of her tiny, wincing face, before regarding each other, sweating with the sheer pressure, psychological and physical pain of childbirth, a very unsure thing.

"What are you going to name her?" Garnet asked, taking a moment to look away from the child and to her parents. Leopoldine chimed in with equal curiosity, albeit a bit of jealousy, tugging at her mother's bed sheets. Beatrix and Steiner looked at her other intently for a minute or so, before nodding in agreement.

"We will name her Lilia. Lilia Rosamund Steiner," Beatrix spoke softly, tracing a red-lacquered finger down her newborn's velvety cheek.

At this moment, Lilia began to wail raucously, causing for Leopoldine to kneel on the ground in shock, covering her ears flat with her hands. Little did the newborn know that she was forming the first impression her parents and sister would ever have of her.

Lilia never was one to stay quiet for very long.