The Gemini
Chapter One
Zidane had come back to me. My Zidane, my precious Zidane, my beloved . . .
He was back.
For so long, I had thought he was past. Weeks after we defeated Necron, I waited for him. I couldn't accept that he was gone. A life with Zidane was inconceivable. When I had first met him, I felt like everything was right. That I had known Zidane all my life. That Zidane was a part of me, and everything that I was, was also him. And then he left me. He left me for Kuja, a man who had destroyed both my homes. He had destroyed my Zidane, too.
I was mad at Zidane. I was mad a Kuja. I was mad at myself for not going with Zidane when he went to save Kuja, for letting him get away from me. I was angry at Kuja, for acting like a two-year-old child not wanting a new baby brother. I rationalized soon enough, though. If Kuja hadn't acted the way he did, I would have never met Zidane. Kuja was, in a way, my Angel of Love. I should thank him for leaving Zidane alone, for letting him grow up on Gaia. What if I had to kill Zidane instead of Kuja?
I had no time for what ifs, though. Three weeks after Zidane's disappearance, I had my coronation. I was Queen now, Queen Garnet XVII. I got up in the morning and dressed in silk dresses, sat up straight, discussed politics with Beatrix and Steiner briefly. Those two and Dr. Tot were the real leaders of Alexandria. I was just a face, a representative. Like all the other Kings and Queens before me, I was just a shell.
But that shell was me, was who I had been brought up to be. Brahne trained me to be Garnet. She taught me to be careful, to not trip over lacy dresses. She taught me how to embroider, a past time appropriate for a Princess. She brought me up royalty, because that was what I was. It was me. It was how I lived, how I breathed. She shaped me into a Princess who would become Queen, and that was what I was. Queen.
Zidane had called me Dagger . . .
I stood in the middle of the Alexandrian stage, away from Zidane for a few minutes. Each second was like a sword stabbing my heart, though. I had been separated from him for months, yet now I couldn't stand not being with him. I needed to touch him always. I needed to be with him, love him. Because I do. I love him. I love him very much . . .
Dagger.
I searched the stage for my crystal. I knew that it had not been stolen. To steal the Alexandrian Crystal is to steal the soul of the kingdom. It should still be where I had dropped it.
That moment shall forever stay in my heart. The memory was bitter and horrible, yet sweet and wonderful. I had pushed my way through the crowd, polite as one can be when they are shoving people around. I was desperate . . . I needed to get through through to the stage. The stage where my Zidane stood, my beloved Zidane. It seemed that I would always be fighting the crowd. Zidane didn't get closer, but farther as I swam through the sea of my people. It was unfair! Zidane was BACK! Zidane . . . My light, my future, my all. And these people were stalling me!
Finally, I arrived at the stage.
Merely to see the absence of my angel.
My heart felt ready to give up. Everything was desolate. I had actually thought Zidane was back, but no. It must have been a cruel dream slipping into a reality. Like a mirage. He wasn't there . . . I wanted to die. Living without him for all these months, how could I survive knowing of that I had seen him? His face looked so real . . . His blue-green eyes full of the same amusement, his tail whipping haphazardly behind him. He looked so free, so careless. Exactly how I remembered him.
It was then that the crystal fell of my neck. I didn't care, because the crystal represented Queen Garnet. I didn't want to be Queen Garnet any more. I wanted to be Dagger, traveling with Zidane. Care-free, like he was. But what was Dagger without Zidane? Dagger couldn't live without him. I was Dagger, wasn't I?
I turned around. I needed away from this crowd, this cheering, confused crowd. I needed away from the stage, were the image of Zidane had once stood.
And I saw that image once again.
Tears flooded to my eyes. I ran to him, hugged him. He was real! He wasn't some transparent ghost come to haunt me! He was REAL! My Zidane! Dagger could live once again!
I was so happy, yet so angry. I beat on his chest, crying harder. Why had he let me think of him as dead when he was alive? Why! The jerk . . . Always the jerk who kidnapped me . . .
But that was hours ago. Zidane was here and it was all okay. I picked up the crystal and headed back to the Castle. That's where my Zidane was. That's where Dagger was.
. . . Dagger?
*****
Everyone sat in the castle kitchen, talking excitedly. I was silent, content with sitting next to Zidane and hanging on his arm. The people we had known and traveled with where around the table, engrossed in conversations. Salamander and Freija were glaring at eachother in an amused way, while Eiko talked to Cid, who just nodded his head tiredly. Hilda looked fatigued, too. Raising Eiko was obviously a tough job. Quina ate his food energetically, very happy that Zidane was back. S/he had cooked a wonderful feast. Steiner sat across from Beatrix, smiling at her. Vivi's family was sitting at a table of their own, making little fireballs and then extinguishing them with ice.
And I with Zidane.
They were laughing about tonight. Everyone had known Zidane was back, and about the plan. That's why they all had tickets to the show. Zidane had sent one to each of them, explaining what he meant to do. It angered me, but a more rational side of me laughed.
Garnet was mad, but Dagger was amused.
Why do I keep thinking of myself as two people? Wasn't I Garnet til Alexandros XVII?
But wasn't I Dagger, when I was with Zidane?
My head spun. Zidane was back, and Zidane called me Dagger. That's who I was to him, Dagger. Who was I to myself, though? Garnet, right? Or Dagger? Not Sarah, Sarah had died many years ago. Dagger?
Garnet?
Who am I!
*****
"Dagger?" Zidane asked the fleeing figure next to him. She had let go of his arm and was now running out of the room.
"Dagger!"
The Genome jumped up and raced after her. What could be bothering her? He thought she had cried all her tears. Hell, Zidane himself had cried with her. It was the first time Zidane had ever cried . . .
Where was she going?
The Queen ran though the halls purposefully, knowing her destination. Zidane followed her every step. What was wrong with her? Where was his Dagger going?
"Dagger!"
She kicked of her shoes and ran faster. It was as if she was running away from Zidane. He felt his throat tighten, an awful and familiar feeling filling him. Was he going to cry again?
"DAGGER!"
She ran into a room, ran to a mirror. Zidane wasn't far behind. The mirror stood in the middle of the room, an antique looking glass. She touched it with the tips of her fingers, in awe. Zidane stepped behind and looked to see what was so astounding about her reflection.
The mirror showed the Queen, yes, but not in her dress. She wore the orange jumpsuit Zidane was familiar with, the same one she had worn when they met. But the real Queen wasn't wearing that outfit; she was scathed in a dress of silk. The image also had short, jagged hair. Like she did before Zidane had left.
She looked just like Zidane had remembered her. Dagger. The only difference was that she wasn't wearing the Alexandrian jewel.
Zidane couldn't see himself in the reflection, even though he was standing right behind Dagger.
"D-dagger?"
She closed her eyes, and so did the image.
The mirror between their fingers shattered, but the reflection didn't.
There stood Queen Garnet Alexandros XVII . . .
And Dagger.