Disclaimer: Final Fantasy 9 belongs to Square Enix. However, any original characters mentioned in this story are mine, as is the plot.
Knightwatch
By Saffire Raynius
Chapter Five"Explain this. Please, knights, clarify what allowed the lookouts to miss the odd fire formation—on high alert? Not to mention the delay in sending out scouts to investigate the area in which Prince Puck traveled."
Freya squirmed beneath her crimson jacket, which suddenly felt three times as heavy. "I'm not sure, Sir, but they could have mistaken the fire as a natural occurrence."
The High Priest gave Freya a scathing glare. She averted her eyes toward Fratley, who was attempting to distract the Priest.
Fratley gestured toward the tall arched windows. "It may have not appeared so obvious to those on the ground, m'lord."
Freya nodded quickly. "Sir Fratley and I originally spotted the fire from an elevated location."
Foam practically dribbled down the Priest's high chin as he scowled at both of the knights. "That makes no difference. The point is, your guards failed. In these seemingly peaceful times, they've become—how can I put this?—pathetic."
The nervous knight shared a look with Fratley. His serenity in the face of this monster allowed her the strength to deny the Priest's claims. "We never asked to command the Burmecian soldiers," Freya stated flatly. "It was thrown upon us because we were Royal Dragon Knights, not because we were qualified to be absolute commanders."
A funny redness crept across the priest's jowls. His left eye twitched with vehemence. "You—were—chosen—because you were the only ELITE SOLDIERS in all of Burmecia! Don't tell me that being ELITE SOLDIERS means that you are not qualified to lead a small squadron of imbeciles!"
Freya's claws dug into her palms. She shook slightly, just enough to be noticeable. Fratley shot her a glance, brows raised beneath the brim of his hat.
"I was ordered to protect the Royal Family with my life," Freya hissed between clenched teeth. "I was not ordered to babysit ratlings, nor take orders from them!"
Silence burned into the floor. Freya's eyes leveled with the Priest's. He turned an interesting array of reds; his beady eyes were affected by a spasm. After a minute of glaring, the minister pointed to the door. He said nothing.
"Your orders, sir?" Fratley asked.
The Priest's head fell into his hands. "Just get out," he murmured.
"Sir?" Freya blinked. The prime minister giving in so easily?
"Just get out!" he screamed, nearly leaping out of his chair. Freya leaned forward with words on her tongue.
"Yes, sir!" Fratley knelt briefly and snatched Freya's wrist. He tugged her away from the office, dashed through the chapel, and paused inside of a lonely alley. "That was not a very positive discussion," Fratley stated. "And a dangerous one at that."
Freya leaned over, placing her hands on her knees for support. "Gods… I wish I could just tear that arrogant bastard apart! He's a womanizer and a monster; that's what he is!"
A warm chuckle bubbled out of Fratley's throat. He straightened the brim of his hat. "And what makes you think you have the authority to singlehandedly strike down the highest-ranking official in the land?"
"I don't know, okay?" she spat. "I just don't know!"
Fratley stepped closer. He placed both hands on her shoulders. "Is it really the Prime Minister you're angry at?"
Freya gazed into his soothing smile. "No," she admitted, shamefaced.
"Then, what is bothering you, my lady?"
A long sigh escaped her lips. "I don't wish to bother you with my feelings of inadequacy, my lord."
Fratley gave a shake of his head. "Inadequacy? My lady, you are the best female fighter in these lands. Even the legendary Lady Beatrix would pale at your lancework."
"I fought with Beatrix at my side two years ago," Freya murmured. "She was amazing. I'm not so sure that I could best her in combat, even now."
Fratley lifted her chin with a finger to stare into her green eyes. "My lady, surely you do not believe this has all been for nothing. You alone have helped me reclaim my lost memories, which used to be unattainable in every sense of the word. You alone," he repeated with striking conviction.
Freya blushed fleetingly. Her body suddenly tingled with electricity.
"I did not love wrongly," he stated with a firm gaze.
So large was her shock at that statement that she found her eyes filling with tears. Freya was not eager to cry in front of anyone, least of all, Fratley. Silence passed with his gentle eyes locked on hers.
Rain cascaded down the eaves of the church, distorting the world around them. Freya inhaled shakily and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"I'm not crying or anything," she said defiantly.
"Of course not." Fratley's smile was tender. His hands lingered perhaps a little too long on her upper arms before he released her. The woman's eyes fell, and she found herself shifting mind and body toward the distant warrior, but he was already stepping away.
"Sir Fratley, where are you going?" Freya asked softly.
"I believe we may have some work to do when it comes to soldier discipline."
Freya tilted her head. "They won't listen to me, so it is probably better if you talk to them."
"Exactly the opposite, my lady."
She blinked. "I don't understand."
Fratley gestured through the sheet of water toward the gates. "I was about to check the progress of the fire while you lectured the guards."
The knight paled. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. All they do is mock me. On a good day, I would have screamed at them, but lately…"
Fratley grinned at her. "On a good day? My lady, I've never known you to avoid conflict so eagerly!" he commented, thinking of the fights she had won as a child.
"Agreed, m'lord, but I am afraid it is true."
Fratley tipped his hat and stepped through the rainy curtain; immediately, he disappeared into an unclear refraction. "Do not let some simple soldiers with bad attitudes get the best of you. I believe in you, my lady!"
There was a blur of movement as he leapt away. Freya watched him leave with misgivings of her own. Could she really do this?
How could she doubt herself? If Freya let the guards walk all over her now, there would be no chance of peace. The pranks, the snide remarks, and the overall lack of effort had to end today.
She straightened body, mind, and outfit, and then proceeded to the guard station.
The doors burst open and slammed against the walls. Every soul in the room, slacking or not, glanced up in shock. "L-Lady Freya, g-good afternoon!" called a nervous guard. She nodded to him, for he was one of the few that did his job.
"Alright, slackers! Get off your asses and line up!"
Silence permeated the air. The guards blinked and glanced to one another with a collective expression of "what the hell…?"
"Line up!" Freya repeated, raising her voice to a dangerous level. Inside, she was highly amused. For now, her anxiety moved aside to allow confidence a say in the matter. The "old" Freya was back in full force as far as the soldiers were concerned.
The guards sluggishly moved to the wall and managed some kind of alphabetical, ranked order. All wore doubt as a veil.
"It's about time. Alright. Today, the High Priest, or Prime Minister, informed Sir Fratley and I that you are all utter failures. I am here to expand on his reasoning." She placed her hands on her hips and stared into the eyes of those whom she knew as troublemakers.
"Firstly! Your real life is interfering too much with your duty. To be a good soldier, you must be able to observe at all times of the day."
A pale gray paw shot up.
"Yes, Lieutenant Nil?"
"What about you and Sir Fratley?"
She struggled to retain her composition, shooting glares at those who dared to snicker when it was needed. "Contrary to popular belief, Lieutenant, Sir Fratley and I are strictly friends. Though relationships are tolerated between soldiers, this is only applicable to those who can keep sight of the greater duty."
Nil opened his mouth to protest. For the sake of the others, she allowed him to speak, though she saw what came from a hundred leagues away.
"Is it true that you left Burmecia to look for Sir Fratley?"
"Yes," she said evenly. "I was a young fool like yourself who asked far too many rhetorical questions. Anyway, duty versus personal life is something we all need to work on."
Freya paced up and down the row with a click of her toenails. Occasionally, she ordered for one of them to straighten, or wear his sword correctly, or even dress as was proper.
"Second reason you failed at your duties, men: lack of effort. It shows in your posture, your way of speaking, even your facial expression. If you do not care if Prince Puck dies; if Burmecian anarchy appeals to you; or if the screams of your loved ones being slaughtered at the hands of opposing forces is music to your ears—you may leave."
Not one soldier flinched. Freya smiled wryly. "Good. Anyone like that doesn't deserve to be a soldier, much less a citizen. You can put forth more effort by staying positive, concentrating on your duties, and having some kind of goal set for yourself. Anyone need clarification?"
There was a collective shake of the head.
"The third reason you failed is simple: lack of responsibility. For those who do their work, it is your job to keep others on task, even if it means being 'uncool'. You won't regret it.
"For those known to be insubordinate, this responsibility falls to you: listen. You may miss an important tip otherwise. Learning something valuable from those around you is kinder than falling on your ass over and over again." She smiled at them. "And one more piece of advice for all of you…
"Loosen up! A little humor can go a long way. I won't be like this all of the time. Maybe if you behave yourselves, I can even arrange something. Now, back to your duties! If you're confused, feel free to talk to me."
The murmur of discussion erupted, but the tones were light, and that was a good thing. She stayed to otuline the "battle plan" to a few new recruits. Freya was keenly aware pf how quickly a new soldier could turn nasty, so she guided them away from bad influences.
"Alright, boys! I'll expect a report on the fire's behavior and physical data by tomorrow afternoon." She turned to leave just as Fratley slipped inside. They exchanged a nod.
"Greetings, men. Sergeant Beni is almost done with his shift, and he needs a replacement…" Fratley's voice died out as Freya distanced herself from the building. Darkness threatened the horizon, and a new formation of storm clouds only intensified the effect.
A cat sprang from an alley and startled the knight. It hissed at her and dashed across the road.
Dazedly, she ducked into an upbeat alcove. Above the door hung a wooden sign: "Gar's Food 'n' Tav." Freya blinked a few times to allow her eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness.
"Oi! If it ain't Miss Freya!" A plump, cheery old man waved at her from behind the bar. She grinned and walked over. "Here, right here," the man directed. Freya took a seat, giving a careful glance to the other patrons. Seeing no one of consequence, she eased herself into familiar sandals.
"It's great to see you again, Gar." She said it with a friendly tone. The old man served the best drinks in town, and he never seemed to mind being the only human in the whole city.
"What'll it be? Drinks are on the house tonight." He eyed her with mock suspicion. "You'd better not object to that, Miss! I haven't seen you in here for more than a month, and by the return of our prince and our hero, I'll be damned if there weren't some kinda celebration!"
Freya reddened slightly. She set her elbows on the bar. "A White Rat for me, please."
Gar nodded with a grin. "Aye, I know that glow. And you're drinkin' somethin' new. What in the nine hells is goin' on?" Freya quirked her eyebrows in response. "Aha! It's Fratley, ain't it?" Freya cringed, and Gar took it as an affirmative. "Aye, knew it!"
"I said nothing," Freya said somberly, but a hint of a smile touched her features.
Ice clinked into the glass. Gar poured a concoction of liquids into a metal container and shook it three times. "Aye, I knew it," he mumbled as he mixed everything together. With a smirk, he passed the drink to Freya.
She pressed the tasteless glass to her lips, a soft fruity scent entering her nostrils. No sooner had she swallowed, Gar prodded her personal affairs.
"So, didja kiss yet? Or maybe it's somethin' else. Hehehe. I bet you're glowin' for a different—" Freya interrupted him by choking on a chunk of ice. She coughed profusely until it slid coldly down her throat.
"By the light of Gizmaluke! We haven't done anything of the sort, Gar!" she rasped. "If I suddenly stumbled out of here with a human babe in my arms, they'd think it was mine and Fratley's!"
Gar doubled over with laughter. Freya continued to redden up to her ears; preserving some semblance of dignity was impossible. She gulped the rest of her drink with a chink of ice.
"Me and Fratley… If you must know, Sir Gar, he simply told me that he wasn't mistaken seven years ago when he said he loved me. It's not a promise of any sort."
Gar polished a wineglass while clicking his tongue. "Well, Miss, I believe that he's trying to say that he really likes you."
"I doubt it," Freya sighed. "He's just not receptive."
"Miss, let me remind you of this: men are simple creatures. Often, they will pass over an opportunity without realizing it."
Freya blinked at Gar, her eyes uncomprehending. "What are you saying?"
"If you're waiting for him to fall in love with you, it's gonna take awhile. You have to take the initiative and stop complaining to your male friends about it."
The knight blanched. "I'm not so sure. I mean, I—I don't know if—"
"Listen to yourself, Miss! We all know why you left before, and that's no small feat, doin' what you did. You practically painted it on your forehead."
"Painted what?"
Gar smiled, showing his dimples. "It says, 'I am hopelessly in love.'"
She rested her head on her arms. "Is it that obvious?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"What shall I do?"
"You do, or you don't. You can languish in this hopeless pining phase, or you can just go for it." Gar scrubbed the bartop with a wet rag, humming to himself.
Freya swirled the ice in her glass. Gar had a point, but perhaps—perhaps Fratley was allowing her the opportunity, and she wasn't aware of it.
Perhaps lecturing the soldiers was the beginning of something bigger. If she could make a bunch of grown men cry at will, what made her unable to admit long-buried feelings for her long-lost boyfriend?
She sighed heavily. "Thanks for the advice and the drink, Gar. I think I'll be finishing up my duties for the day." She pushed her stool under the counter.
Gar beamed at her. "Get outta here, ya saucy ratwench." She displayed mock anger and waved as she left.
Still, she would wait a little longer. All of the time in the world lay right here in the town she was raised in; they fell in love in this town, and it could happen again.
Stay your hand, and the bird will come.
Author's Notes: Now featuring A.N. at the end of each chapter. Whee. I reply to reviewers because I like it when people do it for me!
As far as this chapter goes, it's mainly just fluff, and I know that, but I couldn't get image of Freya and Fratley standing under the eaves of the church out of my head. On to the reviewers!
Tearin – Thanks! I'm trying to preserve that feel.
Pilotslover – So far, the reviewers haven't been that lame. You know that I don't really care about the number, just the quality—but reviews are always nice!
Freya rule – I'm updating as fast as I can! This chapter took me at least five hours over two days to type up! But Spring Break is here, so I have tons of time.
Robshi – I call Freya a rat not out of hatred, but of physical observations. However, I have been conscious of your feelings about it, so I've used it less, if not at all. Oh, and Freya would punch Dai on a normal day, but that particular afternoon, she was feeling pretty good. I hope I made up for it with all of the snark in this chapter! The fire does play an important role later, but I'm not saying anything else!