Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 9 belongs to Squaresoft. However, any original characters mentioned in this story are mine, as is the plot.

Knightwatch

By Saffire Raynius

Chapter Two

The very trees shuddered at the power displayed. A sharp clang here, a scrape of metal against metal there bade the animals to flee in alarm. Warm blue eyes sparkled beneath a bronze helm. "You've improved, m'lady," Fratley noted with a playful grin.

Freya pushed her lance against his, biting her tongue sharply. "Do you remember any of our past spars?"

Fratley twisted body and javelin to escape the female knight's grasp. "I am afraid not… but you are quite different from when we first—that is, from when I first remember you."

Freya moved to stab at his side. Fratley dodged nimbly and landed some distance away. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she moved to unbutton her crimson jacket.

"I was quieter then," she murmured. "I was careless and sloppy with my javelin." A wry smile crept across her features as she weighed her lance. "Traveling with Zidane changed me."

Fratley nodded, allowing Freya to finish before resuming their spar. "Fear may be a powerful motivator, but good will and compassion will send you further." He blinked. "You seemed to be the quiet one."

"Someone said that to me a very long time ago." She shoved against the force of his weapon, attempting to knock the warrior off-balance. The resulting mud splatter plastered them both. "Anger can change a person completely!" she called.

Fratley obviously let Freya gain the upper hand, but she said nothing of it. Deftly, she swung her lance around as he dashed past, smacking him in the knees. Within a second, her blade loomed perilously close to his throat. Her breath rasped in the cold rain.

"I'd do well to remember that," the warrior stated flatly. In the blink of a dragonfly, Freya played captive. "And you would do well to remember that the oldest knight still wields a sword." He flashed her a reassuring smile, but his manner was serious.

Freya tossed damp hair from her eyes. "We're all on a quest to find peace within ourselves, and for a long time, my quest was revenge for what Kuja did to us. The end of him brought me that much closer to living some kind of normal life." She eased his weapon aside and stooped to retrieve her jacket. Fratley's comprehensive gaze lingered on her the entire time, but when she glanced up, his eyes flickered away to some distant location.

The knight flushed, though from the cold or his eyes it was not clear. "Is there something you wish to ask, Sir Fratley? Ask, and I shall answer to the best of my ability…"

"Compassion is an essential trait in leadership. Tell me, why did you refuse to act as Queen in the absence of the King and Prince Puck?"

Freya blanched, no small feat for a pale Burmecian. "Ah, Sir Fratley! You know the answer, as do I. I am ill-suited to the role of leader in any situation. Only when necessary will I step forward."

"But you have changed." The flicker of amusement shone in his eyes.

"Yes, but no amount of anger could ever be beneficial to the throne," she said hotly. "I could never sit in a place of such stress without making a harsh decision, as long as my resentment remains."

They walked together in silence for a long while. Each moment of hesitation only worsened the emptiness.

"The people have benefited from your help in organizing the reconstruction committee," Fratley offered. Freya's long ears twitched in surprise. She blinked at him.

"The people's opinion means nothing by itself," she replied softly, eyes falling. "I don't mind helping them, but assuming the throne is a public service I would not wish on anyone." She'd caught that comment's true purpose and shot it down, forcing them both into silence.

She drifted into thoughts about Garnet, Queen of Alexandria. Garnet lived through so much pain that she lost her voice for a long time. They all did in some way, but the light of Zidane guided them onward.

Now, they had all gone their separate ways. Freya occasionally wondered how Zidane was adjusting to the rich life. That was something characteristic of the lower class; often, they had trouble with the lavish gourmet foods placed before them.

As the pair neared the city gates, rain began to crowd around them. The guards at the gate waved when Freya and Fratley approached.

"Hey!" called the shorter one. "The meeting is just about to start. Are you planning to attend?"

Freya glanced to Fratley and nodded. "Yes, as always. Thank you for informing me."

Once out of earshot of the guards, Freya knelt before him. "Excuse me, Sir Fratley. I must take leave."

"Ah, it is no problem. You must continue to serve the people. I take no offense."

A heavy sigh of relief escaped her. "I shall return soon."

She darted away, thoroughly confused. The meeting passed with humdrum normality, but only because Freya was anxious to return to Fratley. Some amount of guilt lingered with that thought. Shouldn't she be focused on helping the people?

Another side of Freya argued that the knight, having spent life in servitude to kingdom and lover, deserved to be distracted for once. The world would not end in her absence, nor would the sky crack if she were to allow herself to fall in love again.