Chapter Sixteen

The small cabin was quieter than usual. The curtains had been pushed back to allow the early morning sun to bleed through the square panes. Steiner found himself sitting alone at the kitchen table. His mug of coffee had warm steam rising from it as his eyes were trained directly to a piece of parchment laid flat infront of him. The silence of the cabin stung his ears acutely. Typically, Beatrix would be making a ruckus to cook them a simple breakfast. But since she had left, Steiner found no inspiration to feed himself anything besides coffee. Nights without Beatrix were difficult. How he missed her quiet breathing beside him. He ached thinking about rolling over in bed to find nothing but a cold spot beside him. He missed having to impatiently wait outside the bathroom to pee while she carefully combed her curls and applied the most meager of powder to her rounded cheeks. Without Beatrix home, the captain was an absolute shell of a man.

However, that turbulence had fallen to the way side as he stared at a new unsettling feeling unfurled before him on the small kitchen table. It was Zidane's familiar writing. Not quite refined, but decent enough to be easily read. It was so curt and obviously hurriedly written. There was not much information besides the importance placed on Arabella. Steiner, unfortunately, knew all too well the trouble that would await them. Steiner pensively drank his coffee, his mind wandering towards the middle child. No doubt Kuja was intrigued by the young girl. But Zidane's message could only make Steiner worry that perhaps there was more danger following in the footsteps of Arabella. That maybe, just maybe, the evils that lurked after them were much more refined and brutal than what they once knew.

Steiner sighed, the steam of his coffee dispersing from his breath. He came to his feet and his armor rattled as he went to gaze out the window. The morning was promising that it was going to be another beautiful day. How could the world be so pretty, yet etched with such horrors and sadness? Why did so many have to suffer when there seemed to be so much wonderfulness to capture on Gaia? Steiner pursed his lips as he heard the beginning tweets of birds. He closed his eyes for a moment and simply listened to the sounds of the world as it came alive for another day.

"Beatrix..." He whispered, nearly longingly. "I need you here with me. Please, come home."

...

The tweeting birds began to swirl into Sarah's ears. Groggily, she turned her head against the pillow, scrunching her eyes up. The sun was invading her room much too brightly. She wondered who had drawn her curtains. She let out a long sigh, wishing she could fall back asleep. She kept her eyes and her face pressed into the pillow as she listened to the birds. They sounded so jubilant and excited about the morning. They also sounded utterly close. Sarah lifted her head now and looked over her shoulder. Her stomach nearly plummeted to her feet when she realized Dante was sitting on her window sill, leaning out into the fresh morning breeze. The movement of the princess caught his attention and he gazed towards her with a grin. Sarah sat up straight now, holding her covers close to her. She realized in that moment her unwashed face and tangly hair was quite the awful sight.

"Dante, what are you doing in here?!" Sarah asked, shaking her head. "You scaled the wall again? You're in big trouble if someone finds you!"

"I'm not worried," Dante's smile never wavered. His tanned skin gleamed in the pink morning light as he looked back out the window. "It would definitely be worth it for a view like this. You can see all the way to the mountains from here. It's amazing. I can't even see over the town wall's from my roof."

Sarah quickly reached for her robe and pulled it around her wiry body. She hugged herself and turned back to the boy. "What brings you here so early? And... to my chambers?"

Dante set his feet up on the sill and hugged his knees. His brown hair clawed across his forehead and he pursed his lips. "I hate to talk politics so early in the morning but... I'm here to show you how to fight more. Your sister's aren't interested and... maybe that's for the best." Dante came to his feet now, looking at the meek Sarah. "But you're the next in line to the throne, Sarah. Someone could be coming after you. And you showed promise with your dagger work yesterday. Today, I brought you this." He knelt down to a duffel bag he had pushed against the wall. Slowly, Sarah came towards him with arched eyebrows. Dante stood again, a long silver sword in his hand. It glinted in the early morning light. At the hilt, it was extravagantly carved to portray thorny rose vines and encrusted just at the base of the sword was a glimmering garnet. Sarah's eyes widened as he placed it into her hands.

It was cool to the touch and was heavier than Sarah anticipated. Her eyes hovered over the garnet that stared right back at her. Finally, she looked to Dante. "You... made this for me?"

"I did," Dante nodded. "General Beatrix has always used a very well-regarded sword, encrusted with rubies, and razor sharp. The Save the Queen is one of the most infamous swords on the Mist Continent. It only seemed fitting the heir to the throne had one of her own. I dub this one Long Live the Queen."

Sarah walked a few paces with the sword at her side, her barefeet pressing against the cold marble. After a moment, she held the sword up in front of her, admiring the fine details and sharp edges. Again, her eyes sank to the garnet. Sarah looked over her shoulder at Dante, her cheeks rosy and warm. "Long Live the Queen," Sarah whispered, her lips barely moving.

...

When Zidane arrived at the Lindblum Castle Infirmary that morning, he looked towards the door on the far wall. Just on the other side, Fauna was lying chained under constant surveillance. Zidane turned the other direction, however, and let himself into a different door, where he found Mikoto all alone in a quiet but clean room. The curtains had been pinned backwards. Mikoto seemed to be doing well. She was propped up in bed and some color had returned to her face. Her long blonde hair had been washed thoroughly and braided by some kind maids. It fell in a thick plait over her wiry shoulder. Her big blue eyes were trained on the window, but the sound of Zidane entering caught her attention.

"Hey," Zidane said, quietly closing the door behind him. "You're up early."

"The same could be said of you," Mikoto's voice was so harminous and smooth. Though she had spent the last seventeen years of her life learning how to be an emotive human being, she still hadn't quite perfected finding a rhythm to her voice.

Zidane came to seat himself beside the bed on a small wooden stool. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better," Mikoto told him. "The doctor's said I lost a lot of blood. But... I should make a recovery." She was quiet for a moment, studying his face in the bright morning light. "You've come to ask me about something, haven't you?"

Zidane heaved a sigh, hunching his shoulders. "I was going to return to Alexandria today, but I've chosen not to. You were right, Mikoto. Kuja is alive and we have one of his agents chained up in the room next door." Zidane cast his eyes down for a moment. "But... I did have one question." He paused for a moment, thinking long and hard about his words. Finally, he looked back to the patiently waiting Mikoto, whose composed face never faltered. "My daughter had a nightmare the other night... Kuja came to her, speaking in all his normal fancy mumbo-jumbo. He wants her, Mikoto. Has he come to you?"

"Kuja has been in my dreams, too," Mikoto replied. Zidane's eyes widened. "He has not been in yours?"

Zidane lowered his head for a moment, running his hands together. "I... I haven't dreamt since Dagger died."

"Arabella is special to Kuja," Mikoto looked straight ahead. "Much more special than Brahne or Garnet could have ever been. In a way... he cares about her."

"No," Zidane stood up now, shaking his head. "That's not acceptable, Mikoto. And you, of all people, can't believe that. The only thing Kuja cares about is using Arabella for his own gain. He doesn't care if she lives or dies."

"How can we defy him?" Mikoto looked towards Zidane, her eyes saying nothing at all. "Kuja is unstoppable, Zidane. If we couldn't put an end to him seventeen years ago, what difference will we make now? We could use Arabella to our advantage."

Zidane crossed his arms over his chest, his face pensive. "If you're suggesting using her as bait, it's out of the question."

"We have to make Kuja show himself," Mikoto told him. "How can we put a stop to the madness against an invisible force, Zidane? We can slash down so many agents, but there will always be more. Kuja will re-cycle soul after soul and sick them after us. If we let him sit comfy in his little hide out, all we'll be doing is running in circles. We can't stop all of the souls. We'd be outnumbered, even with the nation's united."

"Even if we put Arabella right out into the open, how can we be sure Kuja will be the one who actually comes for her?" Zidane held his arms out at his side. "It's too much of a gamble, Mikoto. That agent we captured attacked me thinking I would be Arabella. She wanted to inject this gel into her."

"Gel?" Mikoto's body stopped moving and she gazed towards Zidane with wide open eyes. "What kind of gel?"

"I dunno," Zidane shrugged. "It was just some clear gel she had in a needle. She didn't stick me with it." He studied her still face for a moment. "Do you know something about this gel?"

"A clear gel..." Mikoto spoke quietly, casting her eyes down. Her dark lashes batted in the morning light. "Garland had something that fit that description. He never used it on me. But he would on his... other experiments. He would stick a syringe in those who weren't ready yet. Just a tiny prick in the neck. As far as I could tell, it simply induced a coma. But beyond that... I'm not sure."

Zidane sighed and paced towards the window, his hands on his hips. It was such a beautiful morning with promise of a cool autumn day. But it was all lost on him. Kuja had been lying in wait for quite some time. And he seemed to be using it effectively. Despite the languid man's hate and disdain for Garland, he seemed to have no problem using his studies and technologies to his advantage. He had been waiting for these moments to find the weak spots, to trickle back in like the panic that was slowly overtaking Zidane's mind. He blinked, his mind running absolutely blank as he gazed out the window.

Eventually, he looked back over his shoulder at Mikoto. "So, say we do get Kuja to make an appearance. Then what? A slap on the wrist isn't going to do anything. We sure as hell won't be able to talk anything out."

"If Kuja appears, Zidane..." Mikoto was quiet for a moment. "It will be complete and utter war. He will stop at nothing to get what he wants. But maybe... there's a way to convince him that Arabella isn't what he wants."

Curiously, Zidane turned towards Mikoto, arching his eyebrows.

...

The early afternoon air was crisp and taxingly cold. Sarah's breath puffed before her as she and Dante occupied a lonely corner of the garden that was not often patrolled. It was cornered in by the tall granite walls of the castle property and bordered off by a wide section of the river that the gondolas did not travel through. Sarah had dressed warmly, opting for a long sleeve cotton tunic and pleated black pants. This portion of her wardrobe was rarely accessed. Her father only had them tailored for practice emergency drills, though Sarah found the thought rather useless. When would she be wearing pants during an actual emergency? Her wavy blonde hair had been swept back into a messy ponytail at the crown of her head. Together, she and Dante stood face to face and he slowly went through the motions of sword play. Down and up, parry, and strike. Stun and defend. Momentum and footwork. Dante seemed to be well-versed in the sword.

Sarah would practice for Dante sometimes. He would walk around her as she struck the forms and motions of the moves. He reminded her what to do with her free hand and prompted her to keep light on her feet. Sarah skipped back and forth, growing more and more accustomed to the weight of the silver sword. They tried simply sparring, but at first, it was much to easy to disarm Sarah. She would watch in bewilderment as her sword clattered across the cobblestone, running up into the brush. And so she would practice again, keeping in mind to grip her sword tightly and anticipate the weight of her attacker. A spar later in the morning had her backed against the prickly brush and so she practiced again, spinning and acting light of her feet, slashing her shimmering sword through the air, and keeping in mind her surroundings. As it reached noon, Dante and Sarah lined up to spar again.

"I know there's a lot to keep in mind," Dante told her as the princess took a moment to catch her breath and roll her shoulders. "But you're gettin' the hang of it. This is why I wanted you to practice with the sword. It's much different than just slashin' a dagger." Sarah parted her feet, bringing her sword up. Slowly, Dante copied and the two gazed at each other as the birds tweeted overhead. "Are you ready?" Dante asked, looking to her from beneath his bangs.

"A real opponent wouldn't ask me that."

Dante smirked fleetingly before he made the first move, bringing his sword up. Sarah deftly met him and bent her knees, sliding her blade along his. She was able to drive him sideways and stumble forward, using her shoulder to make him stagger. In the next moment she parried, but Dante's steel met her's, surprisingly. He took her moment of shock to counter with his elbow, but he was astounded when Sarah easily slid out from his move, bringing the hilt of her sword against his arm. Dante stumbled a few paces from Sarah, holding his elbow. He looked towards the readied princess, who was still in position, holding her freshly polished sword in her hands. Dante couldn't help but think, despite being a sheltered heir her entire life, she had the fighting in her. It was as if the lore of the Hero of Eight was trickling through her blood with an unyielding desire to learn.

Their spar was about to resume when just a few hedges over a familiar voice had Sarah freezing. "You there! Raagen! Have you seen Princess Sarah?"

"That's Steiner!" Sarah jolted across the patio, falling in front of a large duffel bag. Hurriedly, she stuffed her sword into it and in one deft swoop, pulled out a long cloak, tying it around her neck. "Dante, you have to get out of here. Steiner will have your head if he knew you snuck in here!"

Dante relaxed from his fighting position and smirked as Sarah hurriedly hauled the bag over her shoulder, tucking it beneath the rather voluminous cloak for stealthiness. "I kind of like the thrill," He told her. He looked over his shoulder, however, when he heard the clattering of armor.

"Dante, really," Sarah came to him, gripping his wrist. "You have to disappear right now."

"Alright, alright," Dante sheathed his sword. "Good work today. I really think-"

"You can shower me with praise another time," Sarah began to tow him towards the bushes. "You have to go now, though."

Dante reached towards the bushes, parting the curlings leaves that were growing crunchy from the approaching winter. He took one more moment to look at her bright angelic face. Daringly, he swooped in, pressing a warm kiss to her lips. It took Sarah by surprise and he disappeared quickly, crunching through the leaves. She heard him emerge into the next aisle and the thuds of his boots faded away. Quickly, Sarah went and seated herself on the bank of the river, being sure to huddle to mask the lump of her duffel bag. She tried to untense as she watched the river course by.

"Princess Sarah!" Came Steiner's relieved voice just a moment later. Sarah could almost exhale at the thought of Dante getting away in the nick of time. "There you are. Lunch is about to start. It's rather chilly outside. You should come in before you get ill."

"That's why I wore my cloak," Sarah stood, almost robotically. Tensely, she held the cloak shut and turned towards the Captain. She was glad, in many ways, she was not confronted with Beatrix. The general was much more privvy to social cues than Steiner was. "But you're right, Steiner. I should go inside. I'll go to my room and put something warmer on."

Steiner watched the slender girl cross the clearing, his hands clasped behind his back. "Princess Sarah," He called after her and she abruptly halted, looking over her shoulder. Her heart thundered furociously in her chest. She hoped the duffel bag wasn't too noticeable, but she gazed towards Steiner with the most innocent of blue eyes. "You've been spending a lot of time outside since your father left. Is everything alright?"

Sarah gripped her cloak tightly as she turned towards the curious captain. "I'm fine, yes. I suppose being inside the castle is just... different without Daddy home. I hope everything is alright in Lindblum."

Steiner grinned weakly. "I understand. Go ahead and change. Lunch will be ready shortly."

Sarah didn't need to be told twice. Immediately, her legs carried her through the winding garden that she knew like the back of her hand. She picked up her pace, staying out from the eyes of the guards making their rounds. Her duffel bag beat against her hip as Sarah powered through the large oak doors of the castle and began her journey up the numerous staircases. When she entered the sitting chambers of the princess, both Bella and Alex were found there. They gazed towards their sister as she pushed her cloak back, revealing the gear dangling from her shoulders.

"Where have you been?" Bella asked, looking up from her book.

"Out in the garden," Sarah replied, pulling her wavy blonde hair free of its ponytail. Her hair cascaded down her back and she ran her fingers through it, heading for her bedroom. "Steiner says lunch is almost ready. I'll meet you two down there."

Curious little Alex, however, was already hot on Sarah's heels, her tail wiggling behind her. "What's in the bag?"

"Nothing of interest," Sarah paused, her hand resting on the handle to her chamber.

"Looks pretty interesting," Alex arched her eyebrows, making her older sister sigh.

"If I show you, you have to promise not to open your big mouth."

"When have I ever!?" Alex threw her hands out at her side.

"You're joking, right?" Bella came to her feet now. "You blabbed to Daddy that one time I was trying to turn an oglop into a chocobo."

"And you told Daddy about the time I was trying Mother's earrings on," Sarah recounted.

"Or that time you told Daddy I was writing in a Lord Avon book."

"Oh, and remember when I was trying to learn to sew and you told Daddy I was ruining your clothes- you know, the dresses you had outgrown?"

"Don't forget you told him about how I wasn't going to bed on time."

"Okay, okay," Alex looked between her sister's. "I was young and dumb. I'm older now. In fact, I'm such a refined princess that I know when to keep my mouth shut!"

"This is serious, Alex," Sarah told her.

"I know," Alex almost rolled her eyes. "Everything always is."

After a moment of hesitation, Sarah slumped the bag to the ground. Together, all three princesses stood in a circle, staring at the bag that begged to be unzipped. Sarah gnawed on her lip, however, unable to gauge how her sister's would truly react. Finally, she knelt down and drew the zipper back, lifting her freshly polished sword into the light. Her eyes hovered on the embedded garnet at the hilt. There was a silence as Bella and Alex soaked in what had been presented to them.

"Where did you get that?" Bella asked, furrowing her bold brow. "Did you steal that from Beatrix's quarters?"

"No, of course not," Sarah shook her head. Her grip tightened on the hilt. "It's mine."

"It looks exactly like something Beatrix would own," Bella inspected the sword closely.

"Dante made it for me. It's almost like a replica of Beatrix's sword. He dubbed it 'Long Live the Queen'."

"Is that... a garnet?" Alex's small hands came up to feel the facets of the gem. Sarah nodded. "Why did he make this for you? You're not... going to use it, are you?" Alex seemed uneasy at the thought.

Sarah cradled the sword in her arms, looking over Dante's intricate work. She could tell he took great care when forging it, not skipping over a single detail. A sword defines an opponent. It's a representation of what you're fighting for. Sarah pursed her lips for a moment. "If it comes down to it... it's better I'm prepared, right?"

"Prepared for what?" Alex asked.

"War," Sarah told her, quite bluntly. "Alex, the world is changing. And it doesn't look like it's in our favor. You saw Mikoto... how badly wounded she was... What if someone came to the castle looking to hurt one of us? With Beatrix and Daddy away, we have to protect ourselves."

"You know Daddy will never be okay with this," Bella crossed her arms over her chest.

Sarah's bright eyes lifted to look between her sister's. "That's why neither of you will utter a word, do you understand? What Daddy doesn't know, won't hurt him. This is important to me." Sarah stood up, holding the sword confidentally at her side. "One day, I'm going to be Queen of this kingdom. What kind of Queen would I be if I couldn't defend myself? I have to be brave, like Mother was, and like Daddy is. I have to protect what's dear to me."

There was a curt rap at the chamber door and the princesses were startled. Steiner's voice drifted through from the other side. "Princesses, lunch has been served!"

Sarah looked back to Bella and Alex. "Not a word," She whispered, carefully lying the sword back into the bag.

...

The conference room at the Lindblum Castle was sparsely occupied that early afternoon. Mikoto occupied one chair, a plush pillow placed behind her. She was still quite pale and obviously in recovery, but she insisted on getting out of bed. Beatrix, Zidane, Regent Cid, Freya, and Eiko all found their own seats. At first, there was silence. Zidane's hands fidgeted together as he pursed his lips. He felt Beatrix's hand come to rest on his tense arm and he glanced towards her. The war general's eyes pierced his and he stopped squirming in his seat, swallowing his anxiety.

"So... what's this plan you were talkin' about?" Zidane finally asked, looking across the table at Mikoto.

"I actually cannot take credit for it," Mikoto replied with her calm and even voice. "The plan is that of Princess Eiko's. She visited me last night to convince me of it."

Zidane cocked his head towards Eiko, who was poised and calculated, as usual. Hearing it was her plan didn't evoke much trust from Zidane, but he watched her cooly, simply waiting for her to speak. Eiko came to her feet, her velvet buttercup yellow dress waving back and forth. She clasped her hands together and looked around the rather empty conference table.

"As we know, Kuja has but one desire. And that is to take Princess Arabella away for his own gain," The very words had Zidane tensing again, not even wanting to consider what would happen if Kuja had his wish. "My plan is one of deception."

"Deception?" Freya echoed, sitting up straight in her chair. "You think we can deceive Kuja?"

"We may be able to," Eiko nodded in confirmation. "His eyes are set on Arabella by one fact alone- that she is a new generation of the Summoners- and he believes she holds a key to total utter destruction. In some ways, he may be right. Kuja may like to believe he knows what he's doing with these powers. He certainly knew his way around extraction all those years ago," She paused, as if reliving the memories of Mount Gulug and its freezing temperatures. "But one fact remains: Kuja is not a Summoner and there are things non-Summoners could never understand."

"What are you suggesting?" Zidane's eyes darted between Mikoto and Eiko.

"Arabella lacks the horn of the Summoners," Eiko told him. "Because, in many ways, Arabella is not a full-blooded Summoner, this may be a fact we can play to our advantage. Kuja saw for himself that Arabella was able to call forth a summon. But we can prove to him she is unable to communicate with the summons, therefore rendering his want of her useless. If she's unable to perform the basic tasks of a Summoner, he will have no reason to control her. Being half-Genome isn't enough for Kuja to wield the power of unleashing Terra through Arabella alone."

Zidane stood now, too. "Fauna told me she is perfect, though, being half-Summoner, half-Genome. Kuja doesn't want her strictly for her powers, but instead for her genetic make up."

"Convincing Kuja she is unable to be an affective Summoner, may be reason enough for him to take his sights off her," Eiko countered.

"I don't like this plan," Zidane crossed his arms over his chest. "It's a bunch of what if's, Eiko. And how exactly are we going to convince Kuja of this? What, are we gonna invite him over for some tea and cake and a little chat? Just because she doesn't have a horn isn't enough reason to convince Kuja he's wrong. Mikoto, how could you think this was a good idea?"

"When Kuja visits me in my dreams, he may like to think his little ploys are torment. And... maybe in some ways those dreams are exactly that," Mikoto placed her hands to the table. "But he leaves clues behind, Zidane. Little details to pick up and put into place. He talks feverently of Princess Arabella, wielding the power of her mother and father for ultimate chaos. He speaks of his desires of meeting her. In many ways, Kuja doesn't entirely understand Arabella. Only that she is able to summon and that she is of your seed. This may make it easier to deceive him that she is not what he wants. If she doesn't have control of both of her parent's powers, then she will be of no use to him. Being only one or the other simply isn't good enough for his desires."

"I'm still not convinced," Zidane shook his head. "Kuja knows what he's doing. You're playing directly into his game."

"Dammit, Zidane," Eiko slammed her palms to the surface of the table. "Your stubbornness to do anything will have us all killed! Doesn't Kuja visit your dreams, too?! Can't you see what he's doing? He wants you to believe he knows it all, but he doesn't."

"I don't dream," Zidane shot back, his face hardening. "And when I do, I'm just falling in the ocean, longing for the shore, utterly lost. Kuja's not there, Eiko. It's just me and all my regrets." There was silence in the room. Zidane's face flushed red and he ground his teeth together. "Everyone has plans and ideas. Wild ones that may or may not work. Those ideas won't fly, Eiko. Not when my daughter's life is on the line. You want a good plan that I'll go along with? Deliver me to Kuja and let me deal with it."

"Zidane, don't be ridicu-"

"Stop treating this like it's a goddamn game," Zidane exploded, throwing his hands out at his side. "It's not a game, Eiko. There is no room for deception. There's only room for a blood bath and if that's what Kuja wants, I'll give it to him."

"Zidane, perhaps it's best you calm-"

"Shut up, Freya," Zidane snapped, instantly silencing the Dragoon. "Until everyone starts thinking of something logical- a real plan to untie Kuja's- I'm out of here. But I'm not going to sit here and let you convince me that Kuja's dumb, because he's not. Horn or no horn, Kuja knows what Arabella has inside of her. He's more powerful than me and you. And you're not as smart as you think you are, Eiko."

And with that, the King of Alexandria turned sharply on his heels, being sure to slam the conference door behind him.