KNIGHTS: Those left behind.
By: Matt Taylor
Disclaimer: All Final Fantasy characters belong to Squaresoft, I make no money off their use.
Notes: This takes place after Zidane and co. leave for the outer continent, leaving Beatrix, Steiner and Freya to battle the queen's forces.
********************
Man! Did this look painful.
It was times like this when Freya was (almost) glad that she was single.
She was currently standing against a far wall in the bed area of the chambers where the Burmecian refugees where kept. Her friend, Wei was currently spread out on her bed, screaming loud enough to cause ear trauma. A Burmecian doctor was positioned at the end of her bed, as a woman stood near the head. Across from her, Wei's husband Kal held her had, and spoke encouraging words to her.
"You're doing good Wei, just keep breathing. 1…2…3. 1…2…3."
Wei continued to breath, but the pain was great. She managed to speak through clenched teeth.
"How…much longer?"
"It will still be a few hours, Wei." The doctor said.
"Hours!?"
"This does take a while, Wei." The nurse at her side said.
"Hours?!"
Freya smiled and shook her head. She wondered if she would ever have any children. She had always thought that someday She and Sir Fratley…
Blast it! She had promised she wouldn't think about that. Freya gritted her teeth and tried to force his image out of her mind. Ever since she had found Sir Fratley at Cleyra, when he and his spear saved the people from the Black Mages, the curved blade swishing through the air, in that same oddly beautiful way that she remembered, his image had brought strange emotions to her.
She had found him alright, the goal she had sought for the last three years, but found he had not remembered her, his mind wiped clean of every memory it held since before whatever accident befell him that caused this. She had fallen to the ground, and sobbed, truly cried for the first time in three years. She couldn't blame him really, the irony was so thick that it was almost funny.
She had thought of nothing but him for the last three years, but he had forgotten her, there was one for the jokebooks!
Freya shook her head, and cleared it off such thoughts. As she said, she couldn't really blame him, she blamed whatever, or whoever caused this. For a few moments after he had left the shrine, she had entertained thoughts that perhaps it could be cured, his memories returned, but then, Brahne had attacked. A giant tree, which had taken billions of years to grow to that size, had been destroyed in mere seconds.
She had not seen Sir Fratley since, and her mind was plagued with memories, memories of those refugees Zidane had tried so hard to save, incinerated in the blink of an eye. Years of beautiful art, and building destroyed. King Puck, a legendary hero, and the high priest of Cleyra both dead. And there was the one image which was worse then all of them. She had not seen it, but a little voice in her mind kept whispering it, saying that there was no way he could have gotten out of Cleyra alive.
But there was still hope, hope in her heart. That somehow he had made it out.
"AAAAGGHHH!" Wei's yelling snapped Freya out of her musing.
"Just keep breathing honey." Kal said. Freya smiled slightly, at the strange comedy of the scene. Kal was almost crying himself, as Wei tried frantically to give birth.
"Okay, miss, begin to push." The doctor said. Wei began to push, her cheeks puffing out, and turning red.
"Come on honey, you're almost there."
Push…push…push." The doctor kept repeating this for several minutes, and Freya watched with rapt attention. Wei continued to howl, and Freya heard a weak crying sound over the yelling. She watched in wonder as the doctor placed a small curled up body on a pillow, situated on a rolling table next to him.
"That's one, keep going." He said. Wei's howling increased again, and once again she started pushing. Fifteen minutes passed, and another small bundle came out. Over the next hour, the Doctor removed no less than five small children from Wei. Kal was openly crying, a grin decorating his face. Wei was crying beneath her howling as well, Freya could hear sobs as well.
The Nurse wheeled the table, with the now freshly cleaned and dressed babies, and handed them over, one by one to the loving arms of their mother. Wei sobbed openly as she saw her five children. They had gone through so much, the horrible and frightening war, the long and scary journey through enemy lines, and the mist to get to Lindblum, smuggled inside by the Regent's soldiers, under the nose of people who would kill them if they knew they where here. All those long scary weeks….they had all been worth it.
Wei held her children close to her, and cried, happy, truly happy for the first time in a long while. For a while at least, even with her country destroyed, and her people scattered….
There was hope for the future.
********************
An hour had passed, but Freya still felt a lightness over herself. Now she walked through the halls of these chambers, deciding to leave the small party that had been thrown by some of the refugees for Wei. She had had a snack and some wine, then left. Now She found herself in the western quarter of the area, walking towards her bedroom, itself situated next to the ones currently used by Beatrix and Steiner.
Beatrix, there was something to wonder about. How would her people react to knowing that Beatrix, the woman they where called the Butcher of Burmecia, was living in an area not that far from their own? The Regent had already forbidden Beatrix from making herself known to the Burmecians, and Freya had already decided it would be a bad idea to tell anyone, especially with all of this revenge talk going around her people.
Beatrix was a knight, as was Freya, and Freya understood what that title entailed. The title came with it a loss of a certain amount of freedom, but it was a sacrifice that she, and other knights made gladly, a decision someone like Zidane would never be able to understand. For along with that loss, came honor, and nobility, and the responsibility to uphold those standards. Knights where expected to be loyal to their rulers, no matter what, and that was one problem she had with this situation.
It was possible to take those standards too far. That was pathetically obvious lately. Despite her beliefs about the knighthood, she couldn't resist feeling anger at the sight of Alexandria's general. Yeah, she understood Beatrix position but that didn't mean she had to like her. Freya was pretty convinced that she would never like her, which was odd in some ways, as Freya had always been polite, and pleasant to people, even those she didn't know. It was one of the reasons she had made so many friends in Burmecia, it was one of the reasons so many of those friends understood her when she put aside her Dragoon title to search for Sir Fratley.
If it was wrong to take the standards of knighthood too far, her mind said, was it not also wrong to abandon them completely?
Freya grimaced at that thought. It was one that had showed up now and then ever since she left Burmecia. She had counteracted this by reminding herself that Sir Fratley had done the same, and he was still idolized by every newborn child in Burmecia. She had just recently starting telling herself that if she had stayed she would just be another one of those corpses lying in the rubble. Now she had a chance to help stop all this. This had helped her a bit.
Freya waked into her quarters, and saw her Partisan leaning against a wall. It had stood there unused for over a week now. It was the longest she had gone without fighting in years. She shook her head, and went over to her dufflebag, it was worn leather, carried with her over what felt like hundreds of miles. Inside where the few personal items she could not bring herself to part with when she left. She withdrew a roll of paper and laid it in her nightstand, along with a thick but small leather-bound book, a second book, a coral dagger that her father had carried once, and a few other trinkets.
Freya picked up the slightly larger of the two books. The pages where wisp thin, but strong, and the title on the front read "The Complete works of Lord Avon." Freya herself felt a little strange about admitting that she was a fan of his work, most of the people who where fans of his plays (that she had seen at least) were flighty, giggly girls, something that Freya found annoying.
She reminded herself that she preferred his less popular works, she was particularly fond of his "Sword of the Sun," and "Rose Canyon." Freya smiled slightly to herself, and put it back on her stand. The other was a history of Burmecia. She took the role of paper, and unrolled a painting of herself, and Sir Fratley. It had been done the first year that they where together. She had put a special liquid over it to keep the paint from chipping, but it still looked old.
"Humph! Perhaps it's symbolic." She said to herself. The outer fragments where worn and ripped, but the inner parts where still strong, even if the paint looked less bright than it had in years past. Freya laughed at herself slightly, and rolled it back up, placing it in her bag again. Freya lay down on her bed. It may have sounded silly, but it had cheered her up a bit. If the painting could remain strong then so could she, for her country and for herself.
********************
The only sound in the large room was the swish and clang of steel.
Beatrix Dubois held aloft a steel training blade, its edges dulled for practice use. She caught a downward slash from her comrade, and managed to shove him away. Adelbert Steiner caught himself, and hefted up his own practice sword. They had been doing this non-stop for the past 45 minutes. Strangely enough, neither felt overly tired. Beatrix looked over her opponent thoughtfully.
Steiner was a lot stronger than he had been, even from just a few weeks ago. Even though this was just practice, no one had lasted this long against her in over five years. Beatrix put those thoughts aside, and swung a one-handed blow, which he caught. Steiner forced the sword away from him, and swung an underhanded blow. Beatrix leapt backwards, and the sword only hit air.
Beatrix ran up again, and the blades met in the air, the clang sounded throughout the room. Both stared into the others face for a moment, She could see Steiner was sweating some, but by this point, she had no doubt that she was as well. They separated quickly, both going out of the others range.
Beatrix twirled her sword briefly in the air, and ran at him again. Steiner met her sword with all his strength. Beatrix was sent slamming back, but gritted her teeth, and ran again, her sword catching him by surprise, Beatrix sent a flurry of stab shots at him, which he was only just able to block. She sent up an overhanded slash, but Steiner caught it, and shoved her back hard. Beatrix hit the wall, and felt herself smiling.
"Very good, Steiner. I'm still faster than you, and you're still physically stronger than me."
"I noticed…." She couldn't help but notice the odd silence coming from him following that statement.
"Steiner?"
"Yes?"
"Something wrong?"
"What? Oh no, just thinking."
Beatrix shrugged her shoulders, and returned to the fight. She and Steiner continued this mock battle for another fifteen minutes before Beatrix lowered her sword.
"I think that's enough for today, Steiner." She said, as Steiner placed his own sword against the wall.
"Aye, it's getting late." Steiner said, giving Beatrix a strange look when her back was turned. Yes…there was most definitely something wrong with her.
********************
Steiner chewed at a piece of chicken, thoughtfully. The aide that had brought supper down to his and Beatrix quarters had left already, leaving the two former soldiers of Alexandria to eat in peace. Steiner had said little during the meal, odd for him, and even odder, his usual appetite had seemed to have fled. Steiner wasn't sure what was troubling him so. It had started during the sparring match with his current dinner companion.
To the untrained eye, one would not see any difference in her current behavior. But Steiner had known this woman for fifteen years, and despite their somewhat elongated rivalry, he felt that he knew her pretty well. It is said that during a battle, if you know how, you can read a persons emotions perfectly, even if they where one of those fools who believed that being stone cold emotionless made you the perfect warrior.
Something was troubling her, he was positive now.
Beatrix was picking at her own dinner with disinterest.
"Hey Steiner?"
"Yes?"
"What are you gonna do? I mean, if Queen Brahne wins this whole thing?" Beatrix asked.
"In all honesty, that thought had not occurred to me. I believe she will be defeated." Steiner said, it felt odd, really, saying that he thought the queen would lose, he supposed he'd have to get used to it. "I would not want to live my life as a wanted man though."
"Yes. Perhaps we should just take our swords and our wits, and hit the road as mercenaries?" Beatrix said with a smile, managing to lighten the atmosphere, slightly.
"Hmph. Would you really want to do something like that?" He asked.
"I don't know. Think about it, with skills like ours we'd be rich before the first week was over." She said, grinning.
Steiner chuckled a bit. "Maybe, but I could never live such a life as that. I enjoy knowing that I fight for more than just another pouch of Gil."
"I know, me to. My sword has taken many a life in the past, Steiner," Beatrix said, her voice suddenly sad. "But it has also saved many a life."
Steiner nodded agreement.
"But I can't help myself but wonder what will become of us." Beatrix turned her gaze to the ceiling, where her look grew wistful. Steiner himself was lost in his own thoughts, wondering the same thing she was.
Far above in the night sky, the moon rose.
TO BE CONTINUED.
********************
By: Matt Taylor
Disclaimer: All Final Fantasy characters belong to Squaresoft, I make no money off their use.
Notes: This takes place after Zidane and co. leave for the outer continent, leaving Beatrix, Steiner and Freya to battle the queen's forces.
********************
Man! Did this look painful.
It was times like this when Freya was (almost) glad that she was single.
She was currently standing against a far wall in the bed area of the chambers where the Burmecian refugees where kept. Her friend, Wei was currently spread out on her bed, screaming loud enough to cause ear trauma. A Burmecian doctor was positioned at the end of her bed, as a woman stood near the head. Across from her, Wei's husband Kal held her had, and spoke encouraging words to her.
"You're doing good Wei, just keep breathing. 1…2…3. 1…2…3."
Wei continued to breath, but the pain was great. She managed to speak through clenched teeth.
"How…much longer?"
"It will still be a few hours, Wei." The doctor said.
"Hours!?"
"This does take a while, Wei." The nurse at her side said.
"Hours?!"
Freya smiled and shook her head. She wondered if she would ever have any children. She had always thought that someday She and Sir Fratley…
Blast it! She had promised she wouldn't think about that. Freya gritted her teeth and tried to force his image out of her mind. Ever since she had found Sir Fratley at Cleyra, when he and his spear saved the people from the Black Mages, the curved blade swishing through the air, in that same oddly beautiful way that she remembered, his image had brought strange emotions to her.
She had found him alright, the goal she had sought for the last three years, but found he had not remembered her, his mind wiped clean of every memory it held since before whatever accident befell him that caused this. She had fallen to the ground, and sobbed, truly cried for the first time in three years. She couldn't blame him really, the irony was so thick that it was almost funny.
She had thought of nothing but him for the last three years, but he had forgotten her, there was one for the jokebooks!
Freya shook her head, and cleared it off such thoughts. As she said, she couldn't really blame him, she blamed whatever, or whoever caused this. For a few moments after he had left the shrine, she had entertained thoughts that perhaps it could be cured, his memories returned, but then, Brahne had attacked. A giant tree, which had taken billions of years to grow to that size, had been destroyed in mere seconds.
She had not seen Sir Fratley since, and her mind was plagued with memories, memories of those refugees Zidane had tried so hard to save, incinerated in the blink of an eye. Years of beautiful art, and building destroyed. King Puck, a legendary hero, and the high priest of Cleyra both dead. And there was the one image which was worse then all of them. She had not seen it, but a little voice in her mind kept whispering it, saying that there was no way he could have gotten out of Cleyra alive.
But there was still hope, hope in her heart. That somehow he had made it out.
"AAAAGGHHH!" Wei's yelling snapped Freya out of her musing.
"Just keep breathing honey." Kal said. Freya smiled slightly, at the strange comedy of the scene. Kal was almost crying himself, as Wei tried frantically to give birth.
"Okay, miss, begin to push." The doctor said. Wei began to push, her cheeks puffing out, and turning red.
"Come on honey, you're almost there."
Push…push…push." The doctor kept repeating this for several minutes, and Freya watched with rapt attention. Wei continued to howl, and Freya heard a weak crying sound over the yelling. She watched in wonder as the doctor placed a small curled up body on a pillow, situated on a rolling table next to him.
"That's one, keep going." He said. Wei's howling increased again, and once again she started pushing. Fifteen minutes passed, and another small bundle came out. Over the next hour, the Doctor removed no less than five small children from Wei. Kal was openly crying, a grin decorating his face. Wei was crying beneath her howling as well, Freya could hear sobs as well.
The Nurse wheeled the table, with the now freshly cleaned and dressed babies, and handed them over, one by one to the loving arms of their mother. Wei sobbed openly as she saw her five children. They had gone through so much, the horrible and frightening war, the long and scary journey through enemy lines, and the mist to get to Lindblum, smuggled inside by the Regent's soldiers, under the nose of people who would kill them if they knew they where here. All those long scary weeks….they had all been worth it.
Wei held her children close to her, and cried, happy, truly happy for the first time in a long while. For a while at least, even with her country destroyed, and her people scattered….
There was hope for the future.
********************
An hour had passed, but Freya still felt a lightness over herself. Now she walked through the halls of these chambers, deciding to leave the small party that had been thrown by some of the refugees for Wei. She had had a snack and some wine, then left. Now She found herself in the western quarter of the area, walking towards her bedroom, itself situated next to the ones currently used by Beatrix and Steiner.
Beatrix, there was something to wonder about. How would her people react to knowing that Beatrix, the woman they where called the Butcher of Burmecia, was living in an area not that far from their own? The Regent had already forbidden Beatrix from making herself known to the Burmecians, and Freya had already decided it would be a bad idea to tell anyone, especially with all of this revenge talk going around her people.
Beatrix was a knight, as was Freya, and Freya understood what that title entailed. The title came with it a loss of a certain amount of freedom, but it was a sacrifice that she, and other knights made gladly, a decision someone like Zidane would never be able to understand. For along with that loss, came honor, and nobility, and the responsibility to uphold those standards. Knights where expected to be loyal to their rulers, no matter what, and that was one problem she had with this situation.
It was possible to take those standards too far. That was pathetically obvious lately. Despite her beliefs about the knighthood, she couldn't resist feeling anger at the sight of Alexandria's general. Yeah, she understood Beatrix position but that didn't mean she had to like her. Freya was pretty convinced that she would never like her, which was odd in some ways, as Freya had always been polite, and pleasant to people, even those she didn't know. It was one of the reasons she had made so many friends in Burmecia, it was one of the reasons so many of those friends understood her when she put aside her Dragoon title to search for Sir Fratley.
If it was wrong to take the standards of knighthood too far, her mind said, was it not also wrong to abandon them completely?
Freya grimaced at that thought. It was one that had showed up now and then ever since she left Burmecia. She had counteracted this by reminding herself that Sir Fratley had done the same, and he was still idolized by every newborn child in Burmecia. She had just recently starting telling herself that if she had stayed she would just be another one of those corpses lying in the rubble. Now she had a chance to help stop all this. This had helped her a bit.
Freya waked into her quarters, and saw her Partisan leaning against a wall. It had stood there unused for over a week now. It was the longest she had gone without fighting in years. She shook her head, and went over to her dufflebag, it was worn leather, carried with her over what felt like hundreds of miles. Inside where the few personal items she could not bring herself to part with when she left. She withdrew a roll of paper and laid it in her nightstand, along with a thick but small leather-bound book, a second book, a coral dagger that her father had carried once, and a few other trinkets.
Freya picked up the slightly larger of the two books. The pages where wisp thin, but strong, and the title on the front read "The Complete works of Lord Avon." Freya herself felt a little strange about admitting that she was a fan of his work, most of the people who where fans of his plays (that she had seen at least) were flighty, giggly girls, something that Freya found annoying.
She reminded herself that she preferred his less popular works, she was particularly fond of his "Sword of the Sun," and "Rose Canyon." Freya smiled slightly to herself, and put it back on her stand. The other was a history of Burmecia. She took the role of paper, and unrolled a painting of herself, and Sir Fratley. It had been done the first year that they where together. She had put a special liquid over it to keep the paint from chipping, but it still looked old.
"Humph! Perhaps it's symbolic." She said to herself. The outer fragments where worn and ripped, but the inner parts where still strong, even if the paint looked less bright than it had in years past. Freya laughed at herself slightly, and rolled it back up, placing it in her bag again. Freya lay down on her bed. It may have sounded silly, but it had cheered her up a bit. If the painting could remain strong then so could she, for her country and for herself.
********************
The only sound in the large room was the swish and clang of steel.
Beatrix Dubois held aloft a steel training blade, its edges dulled for practice use. She caught a downward slash from her comrade, and managed to shove him away. Adelbert Steiner caught himself, and hefted up his own practice sword. They had been doing this non-stop for the past 45 minutes. Strangely enough, neither felt overly tired. Beatrix looked over her opponent thoughtfully.
Steiner was a lot stronger than he had been, even from just a few weeks ago. Even though this was just practice, no one had lasted this long against her in over five years. Beatrix put those thoughts aside, and swung a one-handed blow, which he caught. Steiner forced the sword away from him, and swung an underhanded blow. Beatrix leapt backwards, and the sword only hit air.
Beatrix ran up again, and the blades met in the air, the clang sounded throughout the room. Both stared into the others face for a moment, She could see Steiner was sweating some, but by this point, she had no doubt that she was as well. They separated quickly, both going out of the others range.
Beatrix twirled her sword briefly in the air, and ran at him again. Steiner met her sword with all his strength. Beatrix was sent slamming back, but gritted her teeth, and ran again, her sword catching him by surprise, Beatrix sent a flurry of stab shots at him, which he was only just able to block. She sent up an overhanded slash, but Steiner caught it, and shoved her back hard. Beatrix hit the wall, and felt herself smiling.
"Very good, Steiner. I'm still faster than you, and you're still physically stronger than me."
"I noticed…." She couldn't help but notice the odd silence coming from him following that statement.
"Steiner?"
"Yes?"
"Something wrong?"
"What? Oh no, just thinking."
Beatrix shrugged her shoulders, and returned to the fight. She and Steiner continued this mock battle for another fifteen minutes before Beatrix lowered her sword.
"I think that's enough for today, Steiner." She said, as Steiner placed his own sword against the wall.
"Aye, it's getting late." Steiner said, giving Beatrix a strange look when her back was turned. Yes…there was most definitely something wrong with her.
********************
Steiner chewed at a piece of chicken, thoughtfully. The aide that had brought supper down to his and Beatrix quarters had left already, leaving the two former soldiers of Alexandria to eat in peace. Steiner had said little during the meal, odd for him, and even odder, his usual appetite had seemed to have fled. Steiner wasn't sure what was troubling him so. It had started during the sparring match with his current dinner companion.
To the untrained eye, one would not see any difference in her current behavior. But Steiner had known this woman for fifteen years, and despite their somewhat elongated rivalry, he felt that he knew her pretty well. It is said that during a battle, if you know how, you can read a persons emotions perfectly, even if they where one of those fools who believed that being stone cold emotionless made you the perfect warrior.
Something was troubling her, he was positive now.
Beatrix was picking at her own dinner with disinterest.
"Hey Steiner?"
"Yes?"
"What are you gonna do? I mean, if Queen Brahne wins this whole thing?" Beatrix asked.
"In all honesty, that thought had not occurred to me. I believe she will be defeated." Steiner said, it felt odd, really, saying that he thought the queen would lose, he supposed he'd have to get used to it. "I would not want to live my life as a wanted man though."
"Yes. Perhaps we should just take our swords and our wits, and hit the road as mercenaries?" Beatrix said with a smile, managing to lighten the atmosphere, slightly.
"Hmph. Would you really want to do something like that?" He asked.
"I don't know. Think about it, with skills like ours we'd be rich before the first week was over." She said, grinning.
Steiner chuckled a bit. "Maybe, but I could never live such a life as that. I enjoy knowing that I fight for more than just another pouch of Gil."
"I know, me to. My sword has taken many a life in the past, Steiner," Beatrix said, her voice suddenly sad. "But it has also saved many a life."
Steiner nodded agreement.
"But I can't help myself but wonder what will become of us." Beatrix turned her gaze to the ceiling, where her look grew wistful. Steiner himself was lost in his own thoughts, wondering the same thing she was.
Far above in the night sky, the moon rose.
TO BE CONTINUED.
********************
