Spauldanz' final fantasy IX fanfic
In the Iifa Tree
This fanfic takes place after Zidane and Kuja are enveloped in the Iifa tree's roots.
"Kuja! Dammit, don't die on me now! You can't . . ." Zidane looked up, the Iifa tree groaned around him, "Kuja, we have to go NOW . . . Kuja . . . . . . Kuja."
He reached out to Kuja's arm, but before he could touch his brother, a deafening crack rang through the gigantic tree. Zidane looked up. Thousands of roots crashed through the thick bark unhindered by the tough outer shell.
Each of them rushed at him like cannon fire. His entire field of vision was a green mass of oncoming death. The Iifa tree's complaints were drowned out by two sounds: his heartbeat and the incredible sound of the roots. Time seemed to stop. His breathing grew sharp. There was no time to jump. The green freight train crashed. His vision went dark.
"Zidane, you . . . can't . . . why did you . . . go back" Garnet stuttered her words out between her deep sobs which were drowned out by the gigantic spinning blades above her.
She had collapsed below the lip of the railing at the stern of the ship with her arm still resting on the wall; she clutched her necklace tightly. Her tears rolled gently down to the rough and faded finish of the wood below. Catching her short hair and spinning a whirlwind of dark strands about her face, the wind brought a chill to her already cold body.
She sat up, pulled her arms into the recesses of her white shirt, and curled her legs to her chest to warm her body. Resting her head on her knees and leaning to one side, she slowed her breathing and calmed the flow of tears.
How could she let him go? She hadn't even told him the way she felt . . . the princess inside her prevented her, had told her to hold on to her dignity. Where was that dignity now? Why couldn't she have just convinced him to go? Why couldn't she beg? Because she was a princess?
But she wasn't a princess, she wasn't even from Alexandria.
She shifted her weight and gripped her knees tighter to her chest. The smirk on his face when she last saw him below the Hilda Garde was so typical, he knew that going back would mean his death, but he still had that stupid grin. . . he always had that stupid grin.
The twin moons were beginning to fade into the darkness that the ship was flying away from.
The black sky slowly turned gray as the ship began to touch the brilliant fingers of dawn through the slowly receding mist. The top branches of the Iifa tree were only a faint silhouette now, but the memory of the roots crashing into the side and nearly toppling the entire trunk was burned into her mind; she knew Zidane was in the tree, probably still wearing that stupid grin.
What if the next time she saw him his face wouldn't have that grin on it? The face of a cold, pale Zidane crossed her mind, his usual boisterous vigor, gone. What if she never saw that face again?
She couldn't bear it, a new wave of pain flooded her. How would she rule Alexandria without him by her side? How could she do anything without him? She couldn't live without that stupid grin, it had saved her so many times from stumbling and falling.
Now she had fallen and was laying on the cold wooden floor of the ship. Her surroundings flooded back to her, the sky became a deep blue and the sun reflected off of a ladder onto her face. Everyone had gone to the bridge; they must have gotten tired of looking back.
But . . . what if . . . what if Zidane had changed his mind and jumped on the ship as it was leaving, what if he was holding on to the ladder on the side? She stood up and raced to the starboard side of the ship at the rear; peering over the side she could make out the ladder . . .
but no one was attached to it. All she could see was the water below reflecting the ship above. Everything was returning to normal, the mist had completely faded and she looked at the rippling waves below.
This fanfic takes place after Zidane and Kuja are enveloped in the Iifa tree's roots.
"Kuja! Dammit, don't die on me now! You can't . . ." Zidane looked up, the Iifa tree groaned around him, "Kuja, we have to go NOW . . . Kuja . . . . . . Kuja."
He reached out to Kuja's arm, but before he could touch his brother, a deafening crack rang through the gigantic tree. Zidane looked up. Thousands of roots crashed through the thick bark unhindered by the tough outer shell.
Each of them rushed at him like cannon fire. His entire field of vision was a green mass of oncoming death. The Iifa tree's complaints were drowned out by two sounds: his heartbeat and the incredible sound of the roots. Time seemed to stop. His breathing grew sharp. There was no time to jump. The green freight train crashed. His vision went dark.
"Zidane, you . . . can't . . . why did you . . . go back" Garnet stuttered her words out between her deep sobs which were drowned out by the gigantic spinning blades above her.
She had collapsed below the lip of the railing at the stern of the ship with her arm still resting on the wall; she clutched her necklace tightly. Her tears rolled gently down to the rough and faded finish of the wood below. Catching her short hair and spinning a whirlwind of dark strands about her face, the wind brought a chill to her already cold body.
She sat up, pulled her arms into the recesses of her white shirt, and curled her legs to her chest to warm her body. Resting her head on her knees and leaning to one side, she slowed her breathing and calmed the flow of tears.
How could she let him go? She hadn't even told him the way she felt . . . the princess inside her prevented her, had told her to hold on to her dignity. Where was that dignity now? Why couldn't she have just convinced him to go? Why couldn't she beg? Because she was a princess?
But she wasn't a princess, she wasn't even from Alexandria.
She shifted her weight and gripped her knees tighter to her chest. The smirk on his face when she last saw him below the Hilda Garde was so typical, he knew that going back would mean his death, but he still had that stupid grin. . . he always had that stupid grin.
The twin moons were beginning to fade into the darkness that the ship was flying away from.
The black sky slowly turned gray as the ship began to touch the brilliant fingers of dawn through the slowly receding mist. The top branches of the Iifa tree were only a faint silhouette now, but the memory of the roots crashing into the side and nearly toppling the entire trunk was burned into her mind; she knew Zidane was in the tree, probably still wearing that stupid grin.
What if the next time she saw him his face wouldn't have that grin on it? The face of a cold, pale Zidane crossed her mind, his usual boisterous vigor, gone. What if she never saw that face again?
She couldn't bear it, a new wave of pain flooded her. How would she rule Alexandria without him by her side? How could she do anything without him? She couldn't live without that stupid grin, it had saved her so many times from stumbling and falling.
Now she had fallen and was laying on the cold wooden floor of the ship. Her surroundings flooded back to her, the sky became a deep blue and the sun reflected off of a ladder onto her face. Everyone had gone to the bridge; they must have gotten tired of looking back.
But . . . what if . . . what if Zidane had changed his mind and jumped on the ship as it was leaving, what if he was holding on to the ladder on the side? She stood up and raced to the starboard side of the ship at the rear; peering over the side she could make out the ladder . . .
but no one was attached to it. All she could see was the water below reflecting the ship above. Everything was returning to normal, the mist had completely faded and she looked at the rippling waves below.