A/N: My writing muse must only exist in the summer because that's when I feel inclined to write out every single idea that pops into my head. I'm returning from my hiatus with some FFIX goodness. Please enjoy!
The Show Must Go On: Chapter 1
Their "dates" have always been a bit unorthodox, but it seems as if that's always been their style. A quiet dinner at the castle was too stuffy for Zidane's taste, but sailing around through the skies of Gaia on the deck of the Prima Vista was considered uncouth for a Queen's standards.
So they often settled for something in between.
Zidane was an expert by now at sneaking into the castle through some bizarre entrance, avoiding Steiner at all costs. He'd then quietly make his way upstairs, sweet-talk his way past the handmaidens, and slip into Dagger's bed chamber undetected. Then he'd undoubtedly make some kind of quick remark about how "you'd think the guy who basically saved the planet wouldn't have to keep sneaking in through windows. Sheesh!".
Dagger, looking beautiful in one of her many elegant ensembles, would laugh, something that only seemed to happen whenever Zidane came around to whisk her away on one of their late-night rendezvouses. "I think you're forgetting that you once tried to kidnap me."
The young thief would cock a brow. "Tried? I think we were pretty successful," A goodnatured smirk told Dagger that he was planning on being playfully stubborn tonight. "Besides, I think you're forgetting that you practically begged me to kidnap you. Really, Dagger, I know I'm irresistible, but shouldn't a princess have a little more subtlety…?"
Dagger would give a swift swat to his chest and then they'd both erupt into a fit a laughter that would almost blow their clandestine cover.
Sneaking back out of the castle was always the biggest challenge. Zidane knew that he could make the escape without a guard so much as turning his head, but it wasn't as if the Queen could walk through her own halls without someone noticing. He had to remember to give her some credit, though. Although Zidane honed his skills with a professional band of thieves for thirteen years, Dagger did travel the world with him without anyone picking up on her alter ego. Even as a Queen, she still had some knowhow.
When they finally made it out of the castle, they'd take each other's hands and attempt to stifle their incredulous giggles, amazed that, once again, they'd made a successful getaway. Then they'd hurry through the city streets, avoiding the dim light of the street lamps to keep their identities shrouded in secrecy. Every now and then, on a particularly crowded evening, they'd bump into a passerby along their way and Zidane would take a quick moment to bow dramatically, offering his most sincere apologies in his best upperclass accent. This would only make the pair laugh harder as they ran off again, away from the perplexed faces of the other city-goers. They were both completely drunk off of each other's company-Dagger especially, now that she felt like a bird free from its cage.
Their favorite spot has always been the rooftops of the Alexandrian buildings. They were high above the city-high above the scrutinizing eyes of noblemen who may not approve of their relationship. They were completely alone and able to enjoy the view of the starry night sky covering the horizon. Zidane sits so that his feet dangle over the edge, leaning back on his elbows. Dagger lays with her head comfortably in his lap, closing her eyes to revel in the fresh outdoors and the way Zidane's fingers thread slowly through her hair. It was perfect. They were far enough away to appease Zidane's innate sense of adventure, but close enough to the castle so that Dagger didn't feel neglectful toward her kingdom.
By the end of their date, they'd already exhausted nearly every topic they could think of-the goings-on at Tantalus, Steiner's latest antics. Now was the time they would usually sit in silence for a while, just basking in each other's presence and the beauty of the sight before them. That one particular night, however, there was an extra topic that Dagger had failed to mention until right that moment.
"I have a favor to ask of you," She spoke up, breaking the calm silence between them with her soft, melodic voice.
"Yes," Zidane answers with as much certainty as a person could have.
Dagger rolls her eyes. "You don't even know what I'm going to ask you yet."
Zidane chuckles quietly, his fingers lingering around her jawline as they stroke through her soft hair. "Yeah, but when do I ever say no to you?"
The girl has to smile, at least a little cryptically. Zidane does have a point-he's always had the uncanny ability of treating her as well as a queen, but not like a Queen at all. Then again, this particular situation hadn't ever surfaced before. Dagger didn't know how he'd respond, and that worried her.
As usual, Zidane can tell. He tilts his head to the side curiously when he catches a glimpse of Dagger biting down gently on her bottom lip in concern. "You gonna ask me or am I gonna have to guess?" He asks lightheartedly.
Dagger sits up and stares downward at her hands in her lap for a moment as she carefully plans out the right words. She can feel Zidane's gaze following her, growing more uneasy as the silence wears on. At long last, the young Queen looks up through her thick lashes and meets Zidane's eyes timidly.
"There's going to be a dinner party at the castle two nights from now. Some distant family members and a few noble friends from neighboring towns will be attending… I, of course, must attend as well," Dagger's fingers are still twisting and fiddling together in her lap, a habit she must've picked up during their journey across Gaia because no finishing school would ever allow a royal child to adopt such a low-class quirk.
Zidane is no fool, especially when it comes to Dagger. He easily picks up on her endearing nerves, but doesn't see how the announcement of a dinner party should be the cause of them. He remains collected and casual as he responds, "Cool. So… No breaking and entering that night, huh? S'okay, Dagger. I'll hang with the guys or something, it's not a big-"
"Actually, Zidane," She pipes up quietly. "I was hoping that you would accompany me."
The sound of the thief's laughter takes Dagger by surprise. Of all the possible scenarios she'd envisioned upon breaching this topic, none of them had involved the sight of her boyfriend throwing his head back in amusement. Dagger remains still and silent until Zidane's laughter dies down, unsure of how to proceed from here.
He points a finger toward himself, a smile still playing about his lips. "Me? The guest of honor at one of your fancy shmancy parties?"
"I thought it could be the perfect opportunity to officially introduce you to everyone," Dagger is quick to explain. Then she matches his smile with much more gentility and sincerity. "Not only as the man who saved the world, but as the man who holds my heart."
Zidane can't help but allow his expression to soften at her words. He wordlessly reaches out to take her hands in his, hoping the gentle touch will help to ease the raging battle between his head and his heart. "Dagger… I mean…" He sighs, noticeably conflicted. "Can you seriously imagine me at one of those things? I'd stick out like a sore thumb."
"We would make it work, I promise. It's just one evening," She insists.
"Yeah, one evening of hell," Zidane scoffs with dark humor, his voice rising in volume and conviction. "I can't even walk through the front doors of your castle, Dagger!"
Her tone is slightly exasperated by this point. "Well goodness, Zidane, are we really going to wait until we're married for you to face the public?"
"Who said anything about marriage?!"
The air around them feels thick and heavy with the weight of those words. The distant sounds of the bustling nightlife below them are drowned out by the pregnant pause lingering between them and, immediately, Zidane knows he's made a mistake-it was easy to see from Dagger's expressionless eyes, her lips forming a tight line across her face, and the way she slowly retracts her hands from Zidane's gentle grasp.
Zidane drops his head into his hands and mentally curses himself for his temporary slip-up. "You know I don't mean it like that."
"I think I know precisely what you mean, Zidane," Dagger replies shortly. Her posture is rigidly straight-more so than usual. "You've made yourself quite clear."
Her icy tone is enough of an indication that the date is over. Zidane could spend the rest of the evening groveling for her forgiveness, but he knows that his girlfriend is often just as stubborn as he is. Besides, one more wrong move could get him into even more trouble than he's already in. Instead, he doesn't complain when Dagger makes a curt announcement that she's rather tired and would like to return home. They descend from their rooftop hideaway in silence and despite the Queen's insistence that she's perfectly capable of getting back to the castle on her own, Zidane walks her back-again in silence.
They scale the side of the castle wall with practiced ease to Dagger's balcony. Once over the railing, the dark haired girl allows her hand to linger over the handle of the French glass door, hesitant to say goodnight on such an ugly note despite her indignation. Zidane takes advantage of the hesitation and grabs her arm, gently pulling her toward him so that his hands rest dutifully on her hips.
"I'm really sorry," He tells her quietly. Their gazes meet and then it's plain to see the honesty deep within the thief's usually mischievous eyes.
Dagger attempts not to soften from his sincerity. "You hurt my feelings," She says plainly, her tone losing some of its previous icy quality and opting for something a bit more sorrowful.
"I know. I'm an idiot," Zidane declares. He hates seeing Dagger so distressed, particularly from his own doing. Their tiffs are usually limited to Zidane making a joke or inappropriate comment, to which Dagger promptly issues a light smack against his chest (all while attempting to hide her own amusement). Rarely do they come across bumps as meaningful as this. It sends Zidane's stomach on a downward spiral and he's sure that Dagger mustn't feel any better than he does.
Carefully, Zidane allows one corner of his mouth to twitch upward, hoping it might be contagious enough to win Dagger over for the night. "Do I still get a kiss goodnight?" He wonders hopefully.
The boy leans forward, inches away from Dagger's lips when she turns her head at the last moment. Zidane's mouth presses gently against the soft skin of the Queen's cheek. The sting of rejection is almost as painful as the sad, distant look on Dagger's face as she pulls away from Zidane to open the door to her bed chamber.
"Goodnight, Zidane," She concludes softly, closing the door and disappearing inside her room.
Zidane spins on his heel and slowly runs his hands through his shaggy blonde hair in defeat. "Shit," He mutters aloud to himself. For a brief moment, he humors the idea of camping out on her balcony in the hopes that she'll change her mind in the middle of the night and accept his apology, but that would surely draw attention to the early morning patrol guards.
With a final longing glance at Dagger's closed doors, Zidane scuffs his boot against the ground and makes his way down the side of the castle. He takes his time wandering through the streets of Alexandria, idly mulling over how a night of such lighthearted frivolity had taken such a dark turn in a matter of mere seconds. The night is bound to be a sleepless one knowing that Dagger is upset with him.
It isn't until Zidane is facedown in his bed in Lindblum that he starts planning how he's going to make this right again. Because if there's one thing he's learned from his various experiences with women, it's that Dagger is the only one worth fighting for.