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I do not own Final Fantasy IX.

Final Fantasy IX, you do not own?

No, I don't!

You don't?!

I just told you!

Told me, you did not!

Shut up!

Shut up, I will not!

(Eh, you get the picture)
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"A New Option"

By: Laura M. U

Dedicated to: I don't know! The only two who've even read my ficcy are two peeps who ALWAYS read my ficcy's. hehehe. Well, I've dedicated something to BOTH of 'em, and I gotta dedicate this to SOMEONE, don't I? Oh well. Just for the hell of it, Ornery-Chan and the Sly Eagle, this one's urs until I get more reviews! *grin* (I'm just layin' the dedications thick, aren't I? Oh well, pretty soon they won't mean much to anyones, anyways...)

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"Who...Who are you?" the prince demanded, a note of fear in his voice. The figure now crouched on his very windowsill, not flinching a muscle. Rey stared at those two, piercing blue eyes locked on his face, and shuddered. "Well? Who are you?" he demanded, repeating himself.

"Oh, excuse my lack of dignity," said the stranger's husky voice, dripping with sarcasm. "Your highness...."

"I or-order you to give me your name!" The prince swallowed and moved closer. Not too close. Whoever it was was more likely than not bearing a weapon of some sort.

"My name?" inquired the intruder. Through the dim light, Rey saw his unnaturally white teeth flash in a grin of contempt. "Hey, Rascha," he called over his shoulder , into the darkness. "The crown prince of Alexandria wants to know my name! Me!"

A loud snicker emitting from the depths of the thick leaves, "Tell him! Tell him your name, bro!"

The strange man turned back to peer at the prince, "If it suits you, people call me Grabs. Don't have a name, don't want one. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a little business here that demands attention."

Without another warning, 'Grabs' suddenly leapt from his spot, and landed on both feet in front of the prince. Rey stared in amazement, but found himself backing away, involunarily. Grabs smirked at him, and stood his full height to stare up into the royal's face.

The man was considerably shorter than Rey, and for that, he thanked his lucky stars by name an order. He thanked the heavens themselves when he saw that Grabs' leather sheath was lacking it's sword, and the imposter held no apparent weapon in either hand. This stranger wore a variety of unusual clother, from faded, loose breechs to a silvery-grey vest. No shirt, in fact. Just a simple vest with no ties or buttons to call fasteners. Grabs' hair was slightly spiked, a simple, dark red in colour. His face was stout, but curved imperfectly. And his eyes sparkled blue, looking very out-of-place on his dirty, smirking face.

"Oh, I seem to have starteld you," he bantered, and barked a harsh laugh. "Don't mind us -- we're not going to kill you or anything. We just wanted to bring us home a souvenir to prove to the boys that we visited Zidane's only son, after all."

Suddely, Rey felt a very familiar temper mount inside of his skull, "You're nothing but common thieves..." he growled.

"Oh," said the 'theif', for yet a thrid time. "I must apologize, you highness, I wasn't aware the front door was an option."

"Yeh," said a calmer, but relatively bored voice from the window. Another man dropped inside from the old oak's branches. However short Grabs turned out to be, this new stranger looked like a redwood standing beside his partner. His built was stocky, his arms heavily muscled, and his hair a white-silver colour, no matter the fact that he appeared no younger than the prince himself. Rascha grunted, "We was trying te get the proper autori....ather....arter....uh, permission. That old briggard with the rusty armour threatened te have us thrown away."

Grabs nodded, only absently, "So. Your old man treatin' ye well? Dad was curious."

Rey blinked, and shook his head. Something, though he couldn't figure out what, told him that neither of the two men wanted anything, let alone his life. Besides, somehow, they seemed to know his father. "I don't know who sent you," he said, slowly. "But both of you have to leave, before you get found out. I won't tell the guards this time, but--"

"Hey, hey, hey, hey..." said Grabs, lisfting his hands in mock defense. "Don't get hasty. Look, we dont' even want to be here, do we Rascha?"

The giant of a man shook his head, and scratched the back of his neck with one, thickset hand, "Nope. Didn't wanna."

"But," Grabs went on, shrugging casually. "We couldn't help but here ol' Zidane and Dagger talkin' about you on our way here. You'd be surprised how many windows they keep open on this creepy castle."

Rey stared blankly at the thief, and shook his head, implying that he didn't understand. Grabs sighed.

"You want out, don't you?" he asked, lifting a brow plaintivly.

"Out?" Rey's voice was full of doubt, "I don't follow you."

"Oi..." Grabs sighed again, and folded his arms. "You wanna get out of here, don't you? Or do you LIKE being locked up like dog? Did I hear your parents correctly?"

"How do you know my parents?" Rey demanded, on the verge of his breaking point.

Grabs rolled his eyes, and looked at his partner as if to say, 'Is this guy pathetic or what?' Rascha shrugged, and half-frowned, clearly unimpressed at the fact that they were wasting time. Grabs stared at the prince again, and finally gave in, "Do you know of a man named Blank, or not?"

The name stuck a note of familiarity in Rey's mind, but it also warned him of something dangerous. He glanced impassionately at the both of them, and nodded, "I know him, yes."

"An' Cinna?" said Rascha, gruffly.

Rey thought, and recalled the odd-faced, middle-aged man with the hammer, and nodded again, uncertainly, "Yes."

Grabs suddenly grinned, "Great. Well, Blank happens t'be my old man, and Cinna...." he jerked his thumb towards his companion, "Y'know."

Rey's jaw dropped open, but he closed it abruptly, "You knew my father then....You're part of Tantalus, aren't you?"

"Hey," said Grabs, and he chuckled menacingly. "He got it right on his first try. Yeah, and we're damned proud of it, too. Anyway, Dad told me to drop in and see if Zidane's still torturing you. Clearly, that's an understatement."

"What's he been doin' te ye?" said Rascha, crossing his bulky arms. At the same moment, Rey spotted the over-sized, very heavy-looking mallet hooked across the giant's back.

The prince shook his head from his daze, "Um...no, nothing, really. All right, so you're my father's friend's, sons. I think I understand now, but....How does Blank -- your father know what's happening here?"

Grabs snorted, "Well, to be honest, my ol' man and the king are still pretty good friends, even after what's happened. Sure, Zidane's a little younger, but....Hey, waitaminute, you mean your dad is actually torturing you???"

Rey shook his head agian, disapprovingly, "No, no...not torture. Not in the way you think, anyway. But he doesn't let me outside of the castle. In which, any other kind of torture I'd prefer! Yes, I want out. I want out of this wretched place, so I can meet an intelligent girl, see some sights, and at least get a breath of fresh air."

"We've noticed," said Grabs, smirking again. "That's why he sent us te get you. I mean, you want to come, don't you?"

"We'll get a real ass whoopin' if we go back without ye," said Rascha, dubiously.

"Rascha," Grabs warned, punching his companion in the arm. Rascha looked at him as a dog might look at a flea.

"Of course I want to leave," said the prince, his tone grating. "But I fear that I can't, escpecially since I have a whole day tomorrow to-"

"Look, we aint' interested in what you gotta do," said Grabs, sneering with annoyance. "Do ye want to come with us, or not? We have a thousand more things to do, y'know."

Rey stared from man to man, the look in his eyes expressing his ambivalvance. "I don't....know."

"Well, you'd better know," said Grabs. "Or I'll know for you."

"If I did come with you," said Rey, hand slowly encircling the hilt of his sword. "I'd have to be back by tomorrow morning."

Grabs looked rather doubtful at this, "Uh, I'm not sure that'll be an option. For this reason and that, anyway. Well, if you can't come, I mean, you can't come after all. I suppose we'll just leave you to escort Lady Palla, and the minister's daughter....wasn't Lerella her name?"

Rey winced, gritting his jaws tightly together. Lerella. He'd lost count how many times she'd returned to Alexandria, just to be escorted and seen at the royal prince's side. She was scornful, and quite dumb to put it bluntly. The prince exhaled sharply, "Very well. I'll go with you."

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(Oh, writing is such sweet sorrow.....Eh, isn't that Ornery-Chan's quote? Right. Anyway....tell me what you think! *is too lazy to write a long footer*)