Hello there! LONG time no see! I'm very excited to share this little story. I can't believe that after so many years, I still come up with my own little musings and ideas about my most cherished childhood game. Final Fantasy IX is one of those stories that is so special, and so ingrained in my heart, that it can constantly grace me with inspiration. I remember being a young teeny bopper and being so excited about coming up with an idea of Zidane and Dagger going on a chocobo ride date (Which is still published online on this account! … Don't read it haha). Some things never change. Zidane and Dagger's story is so precious to me that it still excites me to write about it, and it simply fills me with joy. So I hope that you, dear reader, can sense that joy and passion in this piece of writing and that it whisks you back to the magical world we love so much. Please enjoy!
x-x-x
Garnet wondered how she was going to survive the journey to the Outer Continent.
It wasn't so much the company she was keeping, which she was currently gazing upon; after such a harrowing journey, it was actually quite interesting to see the dynamics of her comrades in such close quarters. While Amarant and Steiner's clashing personalities had lent them little to no conversation, Freya seemed to enjoy the occasional chat with the stoic redhead. Eiko's boisterous antics kept everyone on their toes with her cheeky grin and endless stories, but she and Vivi could laugh and play together as children should. Having Uncle Cid on board was also a blessing, his wise words a comforting tune accompanying the soft waves around them. Quina continued bumbling about the place, but he kept the troupe afloat with his vast culinary knowledge - at least they were not constrained to rice and beans throughout the trip. Freya's presence was alluring and calm, much needed against the testosterone-fuelled backdrop of the boys. And those boys in question... Blank, who had joined their plight even after being petrified for so long, and of course, the person who had stayed by her side the entire time.
Zidane.
Seeing his bright smile was always a temporary relief from the black thoughts clouding her mind. No, it was not her comrades that would make the gruelling two-week boat ride troublesome. It would be her own scrambled thoughts that would be her undoing.
The voices around her became a blur as she sat on the edge of the Blue Narciss, gazing upon an endless sea. Their journey had just begun. They were to sail towards the Outer Continent, where she had began her life, and where, hopefully, Kuja would meet his end.
Kuja... The man who had brought about so much pain and suffering. He had manipulated her mother and murdered her in cold blood, using her beloved eidolons. He brought about the war, and he would pay for his atrocities.
But no matter how much Garnet convinced herself that Kuja was to blame, she couldn't help but let the responsibility fall back onto herself. Everything that had happened would have been different if not for her silly mistakes. What if she had never run away? What if she hadn't ran back to her mother, allowing herself to be kidnapped? What if she had been stronger? Instead, she had let her kingdom crumble under the flames of Bahamut, her very own eidolon. Instead, she had watched on helplessly as her mother was killed.
Everyone around her at this very moment had tried so hard to help her. She had let them all down. Their smiling faces were meant to bring her joy and solace, but they instead reminded her of the devastation she had caused to each and every one of them.
And worst of all was Zidane.
Zidane... She still couldn't believe he was by her side even now. Even after he emerged from the rubble of her castle, like a dream, whisking her away from certain death... Even after he was almost killed himself and left comatose for three days. Even after they were torn from each other, two completely different people who were never supposed to meet, let alone become so close... Her chest tightened as she thought of how much Zidane meant to her, and how disappointed she was to have let him down. She couldn't protect her mother, she couldn't protect her kingdom... And she couldn't even protect Zidane.
She deserved to be plagued with her muteness. She was helpless and weak and useless.
Unable to look upon the warm-natured expressions of her friends any longer, Garnet slinked beneath the ship, to the cabin where a lone bed was waiting, and assumed her isolation.
x-x-x
She did not know how many hours had passed since she had stowed herself away. Time felt unhinged in her state of mind; it lulled and slowed and pulsed with every depressing thought. She couldn't even wager a guess at how long she'd been in her room when she heard a knock at the door.
The owner of the knock opened the door slowly, knowing it's passenger could not give an answer. Blonde locks spilled over the side of the door and Zidane's face blossomed into view.
"Hey, Dagger." He tried a small smile, seeing her pained expression, which she failed to mask. "Is it okay if I come in?"
She contemplated his plight for a moment. Clearly he and the others were concerned with her muteness, and while she appreciated their worries, she deserved no such sympathy. She also had to question Zidane's intentions, but after such a long journey together she no longer expected his lewd antics. Somewhere along the way, their relationship had transcended a flirting thief and a reliant princess, and turned into something beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Her heart had ached when she saw his expression from the balcony, back in Alexandria - so close and yet so far - wanting to say something but ending up saying nothing at all. Her curiosity had overwhelmed her as she wondered what he'd held back - and if his thoughts had matched hers. But now, she couldn't ask about his feelings or vocalise her own, and she no longer wanted to divulge them. How could she tell him how much he meant to her at a time like this? The important thing was that he was here with her. He would continue to protect her.
She found herself pulled towards his company - she must've been down here longer than she thought - and graced him with a curt nod. His expression lit up and he slinked inside the small cabin, with only a bed and a small chest of drawers. He was holding something behind his back with one hand, the other closing the door behind him.
"Um, I kind of have something for you..." He began, his words wavering, standing awkwardly next to the bed as she sat. Her thoughts were so muddy she barely had the curiosity to wonder what it was. Finally deeming their differing heights a hindrance, he tentatively sat on the bed next to her.
"Er, well, before we left Lindblum I went to the business district to get supplies, and there was this craft stall in the square. I saw this and thought you might like it..." He revealed the hidden treasure behind his back with a theatrical flick of his arms.
Garnet's eyes widened a little. It was a leather bound book, clearly handmade. The leather looked soft to the touch, hand stitched with a linen thread and wrapped with a suede cord in an ornate bow. The stitching on the bind was criss-crossed in thick bundles, holding the book endearingly taught.
"Um, I hope you like it," he said with uncharacteristic nervousness, and he must have misread her stunned expression to one of suspicion, because he hastily added, "I didn't steal it, honest. I bought it so you could maybe write to us, if you wanted to. Or you could write to yourself like a journal... Or anything, really," he explained, treading his words carefully. Garnet was still marvelling at the fact he had bought this stunning handmade book with actual money, out of the goodness of his heart, just for her. That gesture alone was worth more than a trunk of diamonds coming from Zidane.
She took the book gently in her hands, pulling on the cord to reveal clean white pages. She stroked them, feeling the thick pages, clearly of good quality. This wouldn't have been cheap by any means, and Garnet knew their funds were to be spent frugally at such a time. Even if she were not mute, she would have been at a loss for words.
She looked up to see Zidane smiling a goofy sort of smile, which immediately evaporated upon her gaze. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out what appeared to be a piece of wood. "I got you this, too. It's got a bit of lead down the middle, so you can write with it."
She could see now that the wood was an ornate pencil, freshly sharpened. She took this too, feeling the roughness of the wood beneath her skin.
"It'll go blunt as you write, but just bring it to me and I'll sharpen it with my dagger." He smiled a lopsided grin and gauged her reaction with bated breath.
Garnet was absolutely awe-struck. For a fleeting and wonderful moment, the dark clouds shrouding her thoughts dissipated into a quiet lull, allowing her heart to swell with genuine happiness. Zidane was so unbelievably sweet.
Her eyes filled with tears but she dared not let them fall. Instead, she opened the book to the front page and perched her knees up as a backing, pressing the pencil to the paper. She had only ever used ink and feather quills, and the lead snapped slightly at the tip as she began to write. She had almost forgotten the action even as she wrote; the last few months had lent little opportunity to the written word.
She swirled her letters in beautiful cursive script, and passed the book to the blonde boy. He took it tentatively, and flipped it over to read.
Thank you, Zidane.
Garnet knew she'd never forget the smile that adorned his features as he read, and the way his eyes sparkled when he met hers. He had helped, even if just a little, to lift the fog, and it was all Garnet could do to give him a warm smile in return, the gesture foreign to her facial muscles. They shared an intense moment of eye contact, until Garnet's gaze returned to the book, unable to keep up the fire of the moment. Zidane let out a breathy, excited sigh, and handed the book back to her.
"I'm glad you like it," He smiled as she took the book in her hands. "Just hand over the pencil whenever you want it sharpened. Even if it's three in the morning. Whenever you need it."
Her heart swelled again, but this time with a heavier emotion: guilt. He was trying so hard to make her happy again, to help her cope - but this was a burden she would need to bear alone. She had already decided that this book would be a diary - she need not plague the others with her black thoughts.
She nodded to appease him, and he smiled again before standing up, deciding he should leave her alone. She almost wanted to lean out and grab his cuff, gesturing for him to stay. His company was a wonderful din against the fog, but she knew he could not just stay and sit in silence. So she let him leave, but he graced her with one last smile before he closed the door behind him.
She thought of his smile as she began to write down the thoughts that plagued her aching soul.
x-x-x
Garnet tapped the pages of the book with her wooden pencil. The words would not come.
It had been two days since the Blue Narciss had set sail across the vast ocean. Garnet had written some of her thoughts down, but often found she couldn't concentrate and her mind would wander. She'd look back down to see a half-formed sentence, remembering not where she was going with it, and simply give up. Much like her muddled thoughts, her writing reflected the chaos inside of her. She felt as though she was constantly running laps in her mind, but at the same time thinking nothing at all. The things she could have done differently, the stupid mistakes she made, and the sight of her kingdom in flames seemed to mesh together into a blurry mess. More often than not, she would write notes to her mother. She would write down what she wished she could say to her, then imagine her mother's kind smile and silky voice, giving her the thoughtful and love-filled words she used to hear every day. But soon her mind would warp these affirming fantasies into ones of fear and rejection, and soon she would lose herself to black thoughts once again. Even this sweet gesture from Zidane seemed to only bring about more darkness.
It was then that she felt a tap on her shoulder. She blinked and looked up, seeing the familiar boy standing beside her. She wondered how she hadn't heard him approaching, and wagered she had zoned out again. Out on the deck with the constance of the blue waves, time seemed to come to a halt.
"Sorry," he said, taking her quick head flick as a sign he'd scared her. "I thought you might like to come and watch Blank and Cid playing tetra master. It's getting pretty intense," he chuckled.
Though she appreciated him trying to cheer her up, her failed attempts at making sense of her thoughts were playing on her mind too much. She feared she would zone out on everyone and cause concern. She shook her head.
Zidane looked disappointed. "Oh... Well, Quina, Eiko and Vivi are fishing over there. Wanna go and hang out with them?" He tried again, a grin to match, but it quickly fell when she didn't even have the energy to shake her head. She stared out vacantly at the horizon.
Sighing, Zidane sat on the edge of the boat with her, eyeing off the book she held loosely between her fingers. "Do you wanna talk? Er... Write?"
Garnet tightened her grip on the book. Inside were her failed attempts to make sense of her mistakes. She had not intended another soul to set eyes on it, nor to share her selfish thoughts with her comrades. Doing so would only bring down morale. She felt like a useless pile of rocks her friends had to carry along with them. They should have just left her behind.
But Zidane seemed intent on cheering her up, and not being able to talk to anyone was becoming suffocating. She longed for support, and yet she felt she did not deserve it. Why couldn't she shed herself of these horrible emotions? Why couldn't she live up to the hopes of everyone who had helped her? She told her mother she would be a great queen, and she had already failed.
"Dagger?"
His voice was soft, careful, a whisper against the waves surrounding them, but it was enough to bring Garnet out of her stupor. She must have looked miserable, because her expression was matched in Zidane's concerned visage. His face seemed to shatter every time he saw her. She hated it. She didn't deserve his pity.
She sighed and opened her book to a fresh page. It was no use trying to keep her thoughts contained. She had to let someone in... Or she would drown in black thoughts. She wrote, using the boat's railing to rest her arm.
She passed the book and pencil to Zidane, who took it eagerly.
I cannot concentrate on anything.
The blonde boy read her words with quiet deliberation. She watched as Zidane contemplated his answer, tapping the end of the pencil on his chin. He didn't look at her as he thought. She watched as his eyes darted around, then light up as he came up with his answer. He wrote, leaning the book awkwardly against his hand, tongue sticking out comically. Garnet realised that she hadn't once seen Zidane write anything at all. He could of course read, and understood complex language quite well - his understanding of plays was outstanding - but it was so intriguing to watch him do something that was probably quite foreign to him. After all, how often did a thief need to write?
He returned the book to her with a sly grin, and even as she read it she felt the urge to roll her eyes.
It's because I'm so charming you can't take your eyes off me, right?
She heard him chuckle and noted that her lips had indeed quirked up into a tiny smile. His joke had worked, it seemed. She shook her head at him and looked back down to think of a response. As she did, she couldn't help but examine Zidane's handwriting. As she suspected, it was quirky and child-like. Each letter was separate and sharp, encompassing the speed at which he wrote. He also seemed to press down hard on the pencil, the paper indented with his writing. The tight curl of his s's and f's were particularly endearing. His writing seemed to embody so much of himself.
She suddenly realised that her words had been quite ironic; she couldn't concentrate on her thoughts or her friends, but when Zidane was around, she noticed everything about him. The tiny changes in his expression, his soft laugh, even his handwriting!
Her trepidations during their separation were not to be taken lightly; Zidane had a firm hold of her heart and she knew it.
She looked back up at him and watched him patiently waiting for her response. Would things have been different if Alexandria hadn't been destroyed? Would he have eventually come back to her, and told her the truth? Or would he have kept lying, to himself and to her, and let them go their separate ways?
She did not know, but she knew she must reply soon or Zidane might decide to leave her alone. She quickly scribbled a reply and handed the book over.
Very funny, Zidane. You were right, though. I should not have come on this journey. I want to help defeat Kuja, but I feel like such a burden.
She hoped Zidane wouldn't be too disappointed by the change in mood, but he didn't seemed deterred, and didn't hesitate as he wrote his reply.
You're not a burden. I've had second thoughts about that, anyway. I'd rather you be with us so we can watch over you. I don't you want you to be alone at a time like this. You're a part of the team, Dagger. We can't do this without you.
She couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest as her eyes gazed over the delicate slant of the word 'Dagger'. She had grown so fond of her namesake without realising it, and seeing it written in Zidane's haphazard typography left a warm feeling in the pit of her belly.
She simply smiled at him, then, weary of all the concern from her comrades, and Zidane graciously accepted her exit. He tentatively tapped her knee before taking his leave.
The only reply she could think of was the one engraved in the first page of the journal.
Thank you, Zidane.
x-x-x
The next day, Garnet didn't write in her journal at all. Ever since Zidane had graced the book with his unique scribbles, she felt her solitary words were not welcome anymore, as if the book only welcomed conversation. She would press the pencil to the page, then hesitate, feeling that her helpless ramblings weren't fit to follow the short, yet wonderfully endearing conversation on the previous page.
Still, with the day already past noon and the increasingly repetitive sound of the waves, Garnet craved any excuse to escape her thoughts. What could she do if she could not write? Instead, Garnet took note of the pencil beginning to blunt. She could still write with it, but the lines were not as sharp as those on the first page. Perhaps getting it sharpened would invoke her motivations? She emerged from her cabin wearily, searching for the blonde boy.
It did not take long to find him; it seemed he was taking solitude himself, lying on the top bunk of his and Blank's cabin. He had his hands resting behind his head and his right foot resting on his left knee, looking utterly carefree, his tail lazily curled beside his body. His eyes were closed, but she could tell he wasn't sleeping. The light entering the tiny window left a golden glow across his features. She wished she could laze around so blithely, without a care in the world, free of the guilt that plagued her.
She knocked on the open door and he immediately opened his eyes, arching his head towards the entrance. His eyes positively lit up at the sight of the princess. Her heart gave a jolt. How could one simple look elicit such a fluttery feeling in the pit of her belly? She wished she could return his unabated joy.
"Hey, Dagger!" He sat up with a warm smile, leaning on his hands. She held out the pencil and his smile widened. "Time for a sharpen already?"
He jumped down effortlessly from the bunk, then sat on Blank's bed and leaned down to grab his dagger, the sheath having obviously been thrown to the floor haphazardly. He drew it and held his free hand out. Garnet placed the wooden pencil in his ungloved palm, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin.
He perched his leg up again and began to sharpen the pencil, his brow furrowing as he manoeuvred his dagger carefully. The dagger was twice the size of the pencil, so he had to be careful not to chop a huge slab off the end. Garnet waited patiently, holding her journal with both hands and standing straight. When all was said and done, she still longed to look like a princess - no, a queen. Despite what Zidane had taught her, she needed to make her mother proud.
But then... She had already let her down and she had yet to ascend the throne. She had trained all her life to become a respected leader, and here she was, away from her people when they needed her most. Leaders were supposed to be strong... She was so helpless in comparison. Could they really stop Kuja? And even if they succeeded, could she still become a queen, the way she was now?
Garnet seemed to awaken into the room, realising she had zoned out once again. She was no longer standing tall - she had leaned onto the doorframe, her gaze downward, her expression somber. How she wished she would stop doing that! She was so weak she could not even pull herself from her own cloudy stupors. What if she fell into these lapses even during battle?
She looked up and saw to her horror that Zidane had finished sharpening the pencil, for quite some time it seemed, and was watching her carefully. His expression was filled with concern.
Garnet felt shame washing over her. She wanted to apologise again and again, for this and every other silly thing she had ever done. Why was Zidane still with her? He didn't need to come this far... He didn't need to keep fighting her battles, but still he chose to stay by her side. Only because he wanted to... His words echoed in her mind and yet still they did not qualm her curiosity.
She had asked him twice in the past why he had come with her, and both times had led to touching and tumultuous moments. The first was that fated moment by the telescope, when he unceremoniously dropped in on her singing. She still felt the urge to shake her head when she thought of his bargain for their 'date'. Still, it was the first time she'd ever shared her song with someone so deeply, and she couldn't help but remember how entranced he looked as she sang, as if her words lifted him. Of course, if she asked him she knew he'd agree wholeheartedly... But she knew deep down he was genuinely enthralled by her song.
The second time had been on that rickety old boat on the shoreline of Madain Sari, where her memories had awakened. When Zidane called it 'our' song. She found it strange to think now that both instances had involved her song drawing him to her.
But now, her song was lost. She had never felt more sad or lonely in her life, and her one full proof solace had been taken away from her. A shared solace, she felt like saying now... The meaning of her melody had become intertwined with that of the thief's.
Perhaps, asking him once more would fill another hole in the puzzle. She looked back at Zidane with glassy eyes.
"S'okay," he said simply, smiling wanly. She shook her head to indicate she was sorry, but he waved it off. "Anyway, since you wanted this sharpened I'm guessing you want to write?"
She nodded tentatively. Whether he meant that she wanted to write to herself or to him was lost on the princess, but she found she didn't care either way. In fact, she was leaning once again towards the company of the thief. She hesitated a moment, but suddenly remembered a memory from her childhood. The soft words of her mother echoed in her mind, about always communicating her worries and doubts with those she cared for most. Garnet was not the best at confrontations as a child, but her mother gently encouraged her to always talk about her feelings, even if it was difficult. A trickle of hope had fallen through the cracks of Garnet's depressing thoughts, and she made up her mind. She went and sat next to Zidane. She noted how his smile widened significantly.
With the strong sunlight streaming in, she found it easy to write in this room. Her own cabin was the largest, but the single window often faced away from the sun. Compared to this, her room seemed to be a catalyst for her depression. Perhaps more light-hearted feelings would surface with the influence of the sunshine.
She wrote slowly and deliberately, as if savouring the moment. She knew Zidane was watching over her shoulders, but still she passed him the book and pencil.
Why are you still with me, after all this time?
She waited with bated breath as Zidane contemplated his answer. He gave a gentle smile and quickly scrawled his answer, handing the book back in a gentle manner.
Only because I want to go with you. (Okay, I know that's Ipsen's line again, but it's true!) I want to help you and protect you, and everyone else too. Don't forget that you've protected us too. We're in this together. You don't have to do it alone.
It was such a Zidane-like answer that all Garnet could do was shake her head with a small smile. She looked up at him and sighed deeply, listening to the rolling waves just meters from them. He stared back, a bit too intensely, because she quickly turned her gaze back to his words, and scratched a reply in neat cursive, the lead wonderfully sharp.
Thank you for everything. I know I must be able to stand alone and hail a kingdom all my own, but I couldn't have come this far without you.
She still felt a bit giddy from his reply as she passed the book, the teens so close now their knees were pressed against each other's. Zidane didn't hesitate with his reply.
You'll never have to do this alone. Any of it. I promise.
She felt her lips tremble as she read. It was again a very Zidane-like answer, but somehow the finality of the phrase and his somber expression made her realise just how much he'd done for her, for everyone, and how she couldn't imagine him ever going away. She felt the sting of his absence during her planned ascent to the throne, and the pull didn't subside until she saw him again amongst the rubble of her falling castle. She'd needed him, but more importantly, she'd wanted him.
And suddenly the pull was tugged very taut, and she felt heavy with emotion and the longing she'd experienced just weeks prior. She reached out and pulled him into a tight hug, the journal falling from her lap onto the wooden floor. She felt his body tense for a moment before he too felt the pull, and he wrapped his arms around her back. She felt his cheek rest against the top of her head and marvelled at how perfectly they fit in each other's forms. She could feel the body heat radiating from his tanned arms, and the crook of his neck which so perfectly nestled her head. She felt a strange flutter in the pit of her belly and marvelled in the first exciting feeling she'd experienced in a while.
Garnet couldn't help but allow herself a selfish smile. She shut her eyes, warmed by his body heat, calmed by his chest slowly rising up and down, and lulled by the hand running small circles on her back. She felt like she'd been waiting for this closeness for a long time - like hugging someone you hold dear after a very long time apart, or like you're meeting someone you know is very special for the first time. That was the word - newness. She had hugged Zidane briefly before (when he'd saved her from certain death atop Alexandria castle), but this was different - it wasn't frantic or adrenaline-fuelled, it was tender, and slow, and she could breath in his scent and feel his heart beat and savour the moment.
It was the hug she craved when she saw him from atop the stairway back home, longing to talk to him.
Suddenly, the curiosity of that day filled her up, and she simply couldn't wait a moment longer. She gently pulled away from the hug, picking up the journal once more and re-opening it to the current page. She couldn't even look at Zidane after such a close hug, and felt heat radiating from her face - how she hoped she wasn't red! She picked up the pencil and continued on.
Remember when I was about to become Queen and we couldn't see each other? I asked to see you so many times, but I was not allowed.
She passed it back, almost regretting bringing about this string of conversation, but there was no going back now. She longed to know what was in his heart.
Zidane read and re-read the sentence, his eyes darting. She noticed him stiffen. Her heart raced faster, nervous with anticipation. Finally, he scrawled a reply in his signature handwriting.
Really? I wanted to see you too. I really wanted to talk to you. But when I did get to see you, I couldn't say anything. I'm sorry.
Garnet's heart hammered further, remembering his apology after he rescued her from the castle. "I don't know why I wasn't honest with you". His words echoed in her mind as she wrote her reply.
I wanted to talk to you as well. I'm sorry we can't talk now.
She wanted to just say it: what would you have said to me? She knew he must be wondering the same thing - what would she have said to him? The question was tantalisingly close, but she hesitated, and passed the journal over. Why wasn't she allowing herself to be honest with him?
A small smile tugged at his lips as he read the note, and scrawled another reply.
It's okay. I'll stay by your side, and when this is all over we can talk about it. I promise I'll be honest with you.
He was about to pass the journal back - Garnet read the sentence even before she could grab the book - but he pulled back, and added more. He hastily placed it in her hands.
But I think you know what I wanted to tell you.
Garnet felt the air escape her lungs as she read the sentence. I think you know. Did she know? She looked at him in the eyes now, and he was looking at her with an expression so intense she could tell he was saying it in his mind.
She did know. But she dared not voice it consciously.
His gaze darted back and forth between her amber eyes, and his expression softened into a small, knowing smile. She smiled back, then looked down bashfully. Oh, she knew. But what did that mean for them - what did their future look like? She could barely see forward to next week, let alone -
"Hey Zid, can you help me with..." Blank's voice trailed off as he entered the room, spotting Garnet on the bunk next to his brother. "Oops, sorry, you guys. Did I interrupt?"
Zidane glared at his red headed comrade, but Garnet shook her head quickly, clutching the journal tightly in her grasp.
Blank smiled at Garnet. "Sorry, I just need help navigating for a moment. Quina changed the course without me knowing to find the nearest marsh."
"Bloody hell, Quina," Zidane mumbled, but he turned to Garnet with a soft smile and patted her knee before rising to help Blank. "Right, let's get back on course."
"Thanks," Blank nodded, then he disappeared back behind the door to return to the deck. Zidane turned before he left, gracing the princess with one last smile before heading up.
Garnet was left sitting on his bunk, breathless and giddy, her head swimming with the conversation she'd just had with the blonde rogue. She allowed herself another selfish grin.
x-x-x
The next day passed with a feeling of anticipation and loneliness. Garnet awoke with flutters in her belly, reliving the sweet notes shared yesterday, but other priorities took over - after all, they were on a journey across the seas, a trip that would take over a week. Other matters had to be considered, like making sure there was ample food, ensuring the Blue Narciss stayed on course, and looking out for the well-being of all on board. Zidane was also enjoying the company of his red headed brother, and after a lengthy absence the two were always seen together, chatting at the helm or dangling their legs over the railing while they laughed like they were kids again. Garnet knew Zidane's attention was being pulled in every direction, and she felt selfish for wanting more of his company.
It was then that the darkness returned, and Garnet succumbed to her depression once more. Yesterday, she had longed for her voice to return so she could talk to Zidane, but today she didn't deserve it. She deserved never to speak again, and even then this wasn't enough payment for the fall of her beloved kingdom. How dare she sit here, anticipating another exchange with Zidane, when her citizens were left homeless and desolate? The idea that she was to rule them was nothing but laughable. Garnet felt like a small child, confused and helpless. She spent much of the day in a cloudy stupor, and not even Eiko's giggles and Freya's gentle affirmations could lift her up. She retreated to her single cabin, and lost herself once again.
It was only during dinner when a part of herself returned, while she listened to the conversation of her comrades. Zidane and Blank were recounting their days of training when they were young, both in combat and in theatre. This intrigued Garnet, for she was always interested in drama, having loved to read and watch plays.
"There was one time when we were performing 'Midwinter Sonata' in Treno..."
"No, don't tell this story!" Blank rolled his eyes, knowing all too well Zidane couldn't pass up this juicy anecdote.
"... My sword got caught in his belt loop and when I swung it down, his pants came down too," Zidane sniggered, managing his toothiest grin, and everyone fell into a fit of giggles. Garnet even allowed herself a small smile. "Luckily the Kings thought this was hilarious and Marcus managed to steal the treasure while they were distracted."
"Hmph! Nothing but common criminals!" Steiner huffed, but softened when Garnet shot him a curt glare.
"That's sooo funny!" Eiko giggled, holding her belly.
"Oh, you think that's funny?" Blank smirked then, and Zidane's joviality dropped tenfold. "Why don't you ask Zidane about the time we performed 'Ninth Night'?"
"What happened, what happened!?" Eiko's eyes widened and she bounced up and down. Garnet raised her eyebrows - she knew this popular play by Lord Avon and had a hunch at what this could be about.
Zidane covered his face and groaned, but Eiko kept poking and prodding and he finally relented. "Basically the play is about this girl who has to disguise herself as a man to stay safe..."
"Zidane lost a bet and had to cross-dress," Blank blurted, unable to contain the anticipation any longer. The group burst out laughing again, and Garnet smirked at the image in her head.
The theatre stories continued to unravel as the troupe ate, but soon everyone retired for the evening. Blank and Cid took to the helm, while the others retreated to their cabins or relaxed along the boat's edge, as the twinkling stars created a welcome change from the endless blue sky. Garnet slinked away into her single cabin. She could hear the muffled whispers of her comrades in the neighbouring rooms, and felt the sting of loneliness yet again.
She sat on her bed for a while, not feeling sleepy at all, but feeling endlessly tired. Tired of running circles in her mind. Tired of feeling guilty. Tired of replaying the images of war in her mind. She wanted to sleep a dreamless sleep, and wake up in a world where she could rule with confidence and poise. She did not know if she could even stop Kuja once they reached the Outer Continent, and that thought terrified her.
Suddenly, a knock at the door. Garnet felt hope swell in her chest, and her hopes were met when Zidane appeared as the candlelight from the hall spilled into the room. "Hey, you," he greeted, waiting a moment for some sort of permission to enter, and when Garnet smiled he took that as his cue. He gently pushed the door closed and sat on the far end of the bed. "Sorry I haven't seen you much all day. How are you doing?"
Garnet tilted her head gingerly, looking away. Zidane clicked his tongue sympathetically.
"I know. Plus five days in this bloody boat is enough to send anyone stir-crazy," he sighed, stretching his arms out and relaxing. "Just a few more days."
Garnet was torn between arriving quickly and the notion of never arriving at all, not knowing what they were to face.
"Welp, I think some distraction is in order," The blonde announced, pointing to the leather journal. Garnet eyed him quizzically, but he just waved his hand in a gesture to pass it over. Garnet did so, and Zidane opened it to the next empty page.
"I have an idea," he explained, drawing a wonky line down the middle of the page. He wrote "Zidane" on the left and "Dagger" on the right. "Okay, these are our separate columns. I'm gonna ask a question, and we both write our answers down, okay? It'll be fun!"
Garnet raised her eyebrows at this seemingly childish game, but Zidane's "C'mon, please?" wore her down, and she nodded.
"Okay, we'll start easy. Favourite food." He scrawled his answer down under his name, and Garnet wasn't surprised by his answer of 'steak and chips'. She wasn't sure what to write at first - she had no doubt tasted fine cuisine at the castle, but her favourite foods stemmed from her childhood, and she wrote her answer of 'pancakes' and passed it back. Zidane nodded his head with surprise and said "Unexpected, but I like those too! I thought you'd write some fancy Alexandrian dish," he winked at her and she rolled her eyes.
"Okay, next question... favourite childhood memory," He offered, and looked down to write his answer. Garnet was actually curious about this one - she knew Zidane had grown up under the care of Baku and his brothers, but a life of thievery and poverty was something out of her grasp.
She took the journal carefully and couldn't help but smile at Zidane's memory: playing hide and seek with Blank, Cinna and Marcus. She wondered what Zidane looked like when he was a child - she imagined chubby cheeks, matted blonde hair and a toothless grin from missing baby teeth.
Garnet pondered her own answer. Her only childhood memories came from after she was six, when she came to Alexandria. Any memories from Madain Sari were buried too deep to traverse. She thought of her sheltered childhood in the castle, and found herself longing for more exciting memories like Zidane had. Still, she knew Zidane would get a kick out of this one: Forcing a then 24-year-old Steiner to play tea parties with her.
This made Zidane snigger, and the two shared a humorous grin. The questions went on for some time - favourite play by Lord Avon, favourite place in the world, favourite season...
Then, Zidane changed it up a bit. "Okay, this time... favourite moment between us." He graced the princess with a cheeky smirk, and she simply rolled her eyes at him. He scrawled his answer and handed it over. "One of my favourites, anyway."
Garnet read the moment in his signature twirl: Getting married in Dali. Beside the sentence was a smiley face. The princess sighed, and this was met with Zidane's jovial laugh. Still, she indulged him by taking the pencil and writing her own: learning to speak casually from you. Zidane smiled at this, but instead of offering another question, he wrote another memory. This went on for some time, back and forth...
Impressing you by beating Amarant!
Watching Steiner chase you into the distance.
Sharing a bunk with you in the Black Mage Village.
Going to the Eidolon wall with you.
The first time I saw you.
The first time I saw you in that ridiculous knight outfit.
Yeah it really stank too!
Garnet silently giggled and handed the book back, wondering how long the banter would last, and secretly hoping it would last forever. She hadn't realised how many treasured memories she'd made with the blonde rogue until she reflected upon them now. Zidane scrawled again, but this time he took a sombre note as he passed it back.
You sharing your beautiful song with me.
Garnet felt her breath hitch in her throat. Of all the things to lose, being unable to sing her song had hit her the hardest. In a time where she needed comfort the most, she couldn't even comfort herself.
"I miss our song," He spoke then, and she tore her gaze from the pages to his eyes, genuinely sad. Garnet nodded in agreement. "I know how much you need it right now."
A pause. And then, the silence was shattered by her song. Their song. Sung by Zidane.
Garnet's eyes widened. The first thing she marvelled at was how Zidane actually had a nice singing voice - certainly not perfect by any means, but he could hold a tune. She supposed he may have had some singing lessons growing up in the theatre. The second thing she realised was how quickly the notes of her beloved melody gave her goosebumps, made her chest tighten and soften all at once, made her muscles stop and her mouth hang agape. Zidane had closed his eyes, singing her melody low and strong, and when he finished he looked at her. She had tears in her eyes. She smiled, half embarrassed from her tears and half gobsmacked, and simply nodded. She felt it wasn't enough though, so she grabbed the journal and turned to the very first page, where she'd written her first thank you to him.
"Heh, you're welcome," he said bashfully, scratching the back of his neck. "Not nearly as beautiful as when you sing, but I hope it helped even a little." He leaned forward slightly and placed an ungloved hand upon hers. "I can't wait to hear you sing again."
She smiled. The words 'our song' replayed in her mind and she knew now that no matter what happened going forward, Zidane had well and truly changed its meaning forever. No longer was it just her song, a forgotten melody from her birthplace... it was theirs to treasure.
They shared another intense moment of eye contact, and this time it was Zidane who broke it. He stretched and let out a small groan. "Well, it's getting pretty late. We'll be there in just a few days, so we need to be well rested. Thanks for hanging out with me!"
Garnet nodded, sad that their little question game was over, but grateful that Zidane had distracted her enough to pass the hours, and she might even be tired enough to sleep. He tapped her gently on the knee before rising. The door squeaked as he went to close it shut behind him, but not before bidding the princess goodnight with a smile and "Night, Dagger,".
That night, she slept a dreamless sleep.
x-x-x
Some time later...
x-x-x
Queen Garnet til Alexandros lay on her bed. Kuja was defeated, the world was at peace, and everyone had returned to where they belonged. Garnet had ascended the throne with confidence and grace, and she knew her mother would have been so proud. But here she lay, curled up in a tight ball, tears staining her pillow and face scrunched up as if she was in pain. And she was - she was suffering the most insurmountable pain she could imagine.
Living on without Zidane.
She could feel her heart aching inside her chest. She could feel it beating hard and fast, and furrowed her brow even further at the thought that his no longer beats. That he will never again grace her with his mischievous grin. That he'd never hear the words she so longed to tell him. Why didn't she tell him!?
But she knew why she didn't tell him. Because she knew that if she did, she was accepting that this could be the last time she saw him.
And she wouldn't accept it. She couldn't.
She left him with the promise that he'd return, and the promise that they'd made together in that journal - when all this was over, they'd be honest with each other.
Garnet sniffed back, and her eyes widened slightly. The journal!
She rose immediately. She had not touched the journal since her voice had returned to her. She had of course brought it back with her, with her other belongings from the adventure. Where had she placed it...? When she'd returned to Alexandria, her mind was in a state of automaticity, unable to cope with the loss of Zidane.
She hunted around her chambers. She opened her cupboard and found a small sack that she had borrowed from the blonde. Inside, she found her tattered orange garment, still stained and torn (she couldn't bare to clean it and wash away the memories). Wrapped inside it was the journal. She breathed a sigh of relief, and gently pulled the leather book out. She gingerly walked back to her bed, sinking into it, and just sat for the long time, holding the journal in her hands.
Could she bear to open it? Could she handle seeing his slanted handwriting, the tight curls of his s's and f's? Could she even read the words through teary eyes? What if she wet the pages with her tears and washed the lead away? This was all she had left of the man she loved, and his handwritten scrawls were now her most valuable treasure.
She breathed deeply for a moment, calming herself down. She could see Zidane in her mind, willing her to open it, to not be afraid. Tears still sprung to life in her eyes, but she took one last breath and untied the suade cord holding the book closed. She opened it to the first page, where her beginning phrase sat where she'd laid it - Thank you, Zidane.
She nodded to herself with a sad smile. Yes, thank you, Zidane... for everything. For protecting me, for caring about me, for loving me...
She turned the pages, and quickly skipped past her attempts at self-journaling. She finally found the pages where the conversations started. Fresh sobs emerged as she laid eyes on his handwriting and his sweet words. Careful not to let her tears fall on the lead, she read every word, every exchange. She read his affirmations, she read his jokes. She read the question game they played and remembered every prompt with painful clarity. She remembered when he sang their song for her on board the Blue Narciss. Eventually, the conversation ended. After the trip aboard the boat, their adventure became too busy and heavy for them to continue their leisurely chats, and then when Garnet regained her voice she didn't need the journal anymore.
She turned and turned the empty pages, wishing there was more, but savouring what she had. She was so grateful for these words, this small piece of Zidane she could hold onto forever. She flicked through the remaining white pages quickly, until she came to the end -
Her heart jolted.
There were words. Zidane's words. At the back of the book! Words she'd never seen before! When had he written this!? Her breath quickened as she scanned the words, darting her eyes as fast as she could, blinking through the tears.
Dagger,
I don't know if you'll ever see this page but I want you to know a few things. I hope that whatever you fill these pages with helps to cheer you up - you don't deserve all that's happened to you and I wish I could make it go away. I'll always be there for you no matter what. I know that I can get over the top at times, but I know that you know how much you mean to me. You know what I wanted to tell you that day when you were about to become Queen. I know you do. And now's not the time or place to say it anymore, but I do. And sometimes I think that you could too. When all this is over, I promise I'll be honest with you. I don't know what the future holds, but I know I'm not afraid, so long as I'm by your side. I can't wait to hear our song again. I'll wait for the day your voice returns, and for peace to return, and I'll tell you what I've been aching to tell you for so long.
Yours always, Zidane.
Garnet began to shake. She held her hand to her heart, feeling a rush of emotions that felt all-consuming and crushing. She sobbed. She sobbed and sobbed uncontrollably, bent over on her bed, now clutching the journal to her chest.
"I know..." She whispered between her sobs, as if Zidane was right here. "I do know. I'm sorry I never told you... I love you too..."
Her sobbing continued, uncontrollable and from the gut. She dropped to her side, still clutching the book, exhausted and drained, letting her tears stain the bedding. She didn't know how she could go on without him, but she knew she must. He would believe that she could go on without him, and live a fulfilling life. He would want her to move on, while carrying him in her heart. And she would, forever. She would never forget. She regretted every missed opportunity to tell him she loved him... but she did have one small solace, and she held that thought deep in her heart as she lay there, the journal pressed to her chest.
He knew that she loved him.
A memory blossomed again in her mind, unravelling like a beautiful ribbon from a gift: the moment he sang her song - their song - to her. She found herself humming the tune, her eyes closed, remembering. Then, her eyes opened, wet with tears but open with determination. She ran back to the sack in the closet, found the wooden pencil, not sharp but not blunt, and raced back to her bed. She flipped back to the next empty page, and started scrawling. She hummed, she wrote, she mumbled in song, she scribbled out words, she wiped away tears but she did not stop. For hours she brainstormed and sung with a shaky voice and tear stained cheeks, until finally she leaned back against her bed head, exhausted, head swimming, but content. She touched the pages gently with her fingertips, wondering if he'd like the words, but knowing without a doubt he would.
Their song, bestowed with heartfelt lyrics, was the last imprint to be made in the leather journal.
x-x-x