Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns all characters of Final Fantasy IX.

Author's note: I hate to write this chapter. This is sort of an interlude; it's sort of a boring chapter. The next chapter is when they…oh my…I won't reveal it. Thanks to all who took a second out of their day to leave me a note. It's always so nice to get feedback. Anyway, I am a failure when it comes to not stalling. Because I always do it. Still, I think I should at least get a C for effort.

Heresy of Rain

By Mogrika

Part V- Prelude to a Long, Winding Road

"Damn! No tea!" Freya flipped over a couple of boxes where she had a massive supply of tea bags. Whether it was because of too many days of stress or too many people of annoyance, Freya had overindulged in her tea supply. Now she had to go to the local grocer to buy some. "Simply marvelous!" Freya shouted in exasperation.

Freya swung on her red coat haphazardly and threw her winged hat on so it landed in an almost sideways direction. She left her spear at home since an angry mood did not combine well with a spear.

Freya walked swiftly and so that her footsteps made her lean forward. She crossed her arms and a dour expression graced her usually regal face. Dragon Knight or not, Freya was angry and unreasonable, and she could hardly control her temper. But she knew she had to.

The thought made Freya's feet slow to a slow tapping, and her arms slowly became uncrossed. The dark expression on her face softened, and Freya resigned from being angry.

"What shall I do with myself?" she sighed with a tired smile. She put her thoughts away in the back of her mind as she entered the Burmecian Market Square.

The marketplace was bustling with boisterous activity and words. People left and right were buying, selling, or bartering. Everyone all around was conversing in their merriest voices, and they were loud. Still, the disciplined Burmecians were polite, and the din of the marketplace was only the result of a large number of people in the same place at the same time.

Freya entered a shop and grazed her fingers across the shelf, looking for the right tea bags while she read the names aloud. "Lemon, Raspberry, Mint, Earl Grey, Chamomile…no Green Tea." Freya didn't feel like wasting money on other tea bags of lesser quality, so she left the store.

"Good day, Lady Freya," came a vibrant voice. Freya turned. A dashing Burmecian soldier had just greeted her. He slightly bowed and asked Freya warmly, "How do you do?"

"I fare well, thank you," Freya answered, bowing as well. She had seen this guy somewhere before, but she couldn't remember where. "Please forgive me, but I don't recall your name…"

"Oh, my name is Pierre," he said, his face coming forward enthusiastically to tell her.

"Pierre…I shall remember your name," Freya smiled kindly and entered an herb store. To her surprise, Pierre followed.

"Lady Freya, I'm sorry to bother you—"

"Oh don't be silly! It was my fault for not inviting you to come and walk with me. Please, if you will, continue." Freya faced Pierre, but didn't really notice him. She still had Fratley on her mind. His face kept appearing in her mind as if they were plastered on soap bubbles that were floating everywhere. There were thousands of them, and when one popped, others seemed to appear. Her wonderful rainbow illusions of Fratley were much like bubbles. Seemingly beautiful, but in danger of popping and returning to harsh reality. That was what her memories of Fratley were like. Volatile. Dangerous. Beautiful.

Pierre interrupted her thoughts. "Lady Freya, if you would be so kind, may I have the honor of escorting you to the annual Burmecian Ball?" Pierre was bent down on one knee with his Dragoon hat held by both hands on his chest. His fingers held it softly, gently as he awaited Freya's answer.

Freya stared at the man kneeling at her feet. Brown strokes of hair fell on his face, but he didn't dare brush them away while he was waiting for Freya's reply. He gazed at her expectantly.

"Lady Freya?"

She didn't answer. She was thinking.

Ohh…it was too early to be thinking of this now! Freya didn't want to deal with any more men at the time—no matter how charming they were.

"I'd love to." Freya was astounded. Where did that come from?! Why had she suddenly said "yes" when she had already decided "no"?!

Pierre's face lit up. 'Oh dear, now I can't say no! He's just like a kid,' Freya thought. "Pierre," Freya asked curiously. "Of what age are you?"

"Why, Lady Freya, I am 20 years of age. Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Freya replied evasively. 'I should just tell him I changed my mind,' Freya said to herself. 'Pierre is much too young for me.' She said this though Pierre was hardly a year or two younger than Freya herself. 'Well, it's only one evening,' Freya said to herself. 'He was good looking, too. It's a shame he's so young."

But she was lying to herself.

"Well, it was such a pleasure to talk with you, Lady Freya!" Pierre put one hand upon his hat and tipped it.

"I agree," Freya replied with a tepid smile. She tipped her hat as well and turned around.

"Oh, wait, Lady Freya! You forgot—"

But she was gone, faster than a whisper in the wind.

In all his 20-something years of life, Amarant Coral had done nothing more than return a favor for anyone. Then again, no one bothered to care. Still, buying a gift for Freya? Amarant Coral? While he was alive and breathing?

Of course not.

It was Dagger and Zidane's request that Amarant buy Freya something with the money granted to him. After all, Amarant did know Freya better than most people; better than even Zidane, who had known Freya since a couple years back.

So Amarant had the money, the order, and the means. Now he only needed to find something for her. But…what do you get a prissy and proper rat-woman like Freya? Who knows. Something prissy and proper like herself? No, she hadn't been so prissy and proper lately.

'I guess that's her way of showing Christmas spirit,' he thought. Amarant stopped walking abruptly.

It was a girly shop.

He sighed. This was gonna be a long day.

"Where is he? He said he'd be here!" Freya thought anxiously. The snow falling in the town square was usually filled with kids, but today she saw few. She looked among them, hoping to find something…

Splat.

A snowball hit Freya square from behind.

Vehemently, she turned around and began to yell, "Excuse yourself at once!" Then she noticed it was Prince Puck.

"My Prince, you shouldn't greet people that way," Freya said, kneeling to get at Puck's height. "In any case, you're late."

"Um…sorry. Anyway, where are the presents?" Puck asked with the slightest bit of impatience.

"Here." Freya pointed to a huge sack.

"You look like Mrs. Claus!" Puck laughed as he searched through his pockets. "Thanks." He handed Freya something childishly wrapped with a rigid bow and haphazard curly ribbons shooting out in all directions. Then, in true Puck fashion, the wandering Prince of Burmecia was off again.

"I should go, too," Freya said softly. She had nowhere else to go but home.

It was pink. And expensive. And the Flaming Amarant was standing next to it.

Amarant stared at it stupidly, not really seeming to see what was in front of him. When he realized what it was he shook his head. 'There's no way.'

"That ribbon is a popular item," interrupted a greasy salesman. "Shopping for your girlfriend, eh?" He clasped his bony hands together and grinned towards Amarant in a pathetically imploring way.

Amarant walked to a different aisle silently. 'What the hell am I doing here?' He felt as out of place as he looked.

The sleazy salesman audaciously followed the brooding customer. "How about a green ribbon? Green goes with everyth—"

"Shut up." Amarant left.

Amarant couldn't take it. He just had to leave. But now that he had escaped the sleazy store…what was he to do?

The painful choices that awaited him were a music shop, a bookstore, more girly shops, an ancient bookstore, a jewelry store, and weapons shop.

Sigh…what could he rule out?

Music: He didn't know much about the music Freya preferred. It would be too much of a hassle to find out, too.

Bookstore: More directed towards frumpy hags and geezers like Tot. But then again, Freya sort of fell in the "hag" category.

Girly stores: NO.

Jewelry: What, was he gonna freakin' marry her? No need to stop there.

Weapons: Wasn't her Dragon's Hair a.k.a. 'Divider of Heaven' something like the best lance ever?

Amarant entered the bookstore, bought Freya a book, and exited as quickly as possible. He walked towards Freya's house to drop the book off. When he got there, he popped the door open easily and dropped the book off on her kitchen table. Amarant scribbled a quick note and left the rainy city of Burmecia, not once looking back.

Freya arrived home after giving Puck his gifts. She checked her house once more, sort of hoping that Amarant would be sitting at her table, smirking at her saying, "What took you so long?"

But he wasn't. No company. No tea. No one to save her from her own loneliness.

Freya tossed her red coat sofa, but didn't see to make sure it landed on it. She didn't care. She was tired. Freya's footsteps pattered on the cold wood floor serenely as she went into the kitchen to fix herself a cup of something besides tea. She placed her hat on her trusty coffee table. Freya fixed herself some decaffeinated coffee, but while she was waiting for it to brew, she noticed that someone was behind her. Freya made no sudden movements—yet. Then in a flash, Freya whipped around in battle stance to face the symbol of an able and dangerous fighter—Freya's very own Dragoon helmet.

"Huh." It was all she could say. After her heart rate returned to normal, Freya noticed that the reason she thought her hat was a person was because it was tall sitting atop the table. And it was on top of something else, too.

Freya's face broke out into a grateful and hearty laugh. For the first time today she felt a warm fire of joy spread through her. Somebody cared. Somebody cared enough to bring her a gift. She took the wrapped box and opened it to find…

"The History of Shadows." Freya read the title of the book aloud. "Incredible! And it is even a book on a subject I am fond of! Now who was smart enough to send me this gift?" Freya looked for the tag. "From: Zidane and Dagger. And written in handwriting of Amarant, I see," she laughed. "How sweet."

Then, Freya realized that there was something she needed to do.

She grabbed her belongings, saluted Burmecia, and left with the yearning feeling that what she was looking for was close by!

Freya traveled across magnificent and verdant grass plains that were swaying their goodbyes to her. Ahead of her was a looming forest like a sudden black cloud on a sunny day, but Freya didn't worry about danger yet. She stepped into the wooded shadows and disappeared in the lush darkness.

Freya looked around and there in the middle of the forest, sitting on a tree stump, was Amarant Coral.

He smirked and said, "What took you so long?"

Freya laughed. She didn't feel quite so lonely anymore.

TBC…

Note: You know what's funny? Whenever I imagine Amarant trying to decide what store to go to, and he has all those options, I think of him wearing like a cloth across his head that asian cultures use when they're studying hard. You know what I mean? That thing. Yes, and I know you know what "that thing is." Anyway, just wanted to point out that random but funny mental picture…