Ever After

With a king hardly out of boyhood, Freya had seen here fair share of piteous begging. But Eiko was spectacular. Her eyes were glistening, sparkling and disturbingly reminiscent of a puppy waiting for its master to throw a stick for it to chase.

Freya was a pretty suspicious person by nature but in this case, the word hardly did it justice. Clearly, a catastrophe was pending.

"Can she come play with me, daddy?" Her lower lip wobbled. "Please, daddy, please?"

Regent Cid's expression was particularly painful to watch. He looked torn between sincere delight and equally sincere unease—from what she'd heard via letters over the last few months, Eiko had a special talent for creating chaos within the rules specified by her foster parents. But even Freya could tell he was one bat of an eyelash away from caving and she had to wonder why Hilda ever let her husband out of sight with Eiko around.

"Well...," Cid faltered, than coughed in his hand. "I suppose it's all right." He turned to Freya, face apologetic. "Normally, Eiko is barred from the airship hangers save for when I or one of the engineers have the time to escort her. But considering you know the hanger well, and so long as Eiko minds you," here, he turned a fond eye on the girl, who smiled prettily at him, "-I see no reason etiquette cannot be done away with," he finished good-naturedly.

Freya wondered what sort of destruction she was consigning herself to.

Eiko squealed with delight. "Freya, come on!" With far more strength than Freya expected a seven year old to have, Eiko tugged on Freya's fingers and coaxed her through the maze of Lindblum castle. Five long hallways, an elevator, and three hundred and twenty seven steps later (Freya counted) they found themselves at the roof of the castle, where a bridge spanned the several hundred feet of empty space to the large, dome like air ship hangers floating like doldrums in the middle of the city.

All the way there, Eiko had prattled happily to Freya about this or that since she had been away. She mentioned her missed birthday quite a few times. The information overload served to make Freya's head spin; half way up to the roof, her brain shut down and she started staring at the scenery. She had never realized before how many potted plants Lindblum castle owned.

The moment that they entered onto the roof, however, a stark change came over Eiko. She fell silent and let go of Freya's hand, walking closer to the edge of the terrace. The wind was intense and strong so high up, and it tousled Eiko's shoulder length hair in so wild a manner that it seemed it could blow Eiko off the castle wall at any time. Eiko's sudden quietness, ironically, served to recapture Freya's attention. She watched Eiko's movements, and then cautiously approached.

There were obviously not going to play. Freya felt relieved.

The moment Freya reached Eiko's side to peer down across the vast lands of the Mist Continent (by name only, as it no longer had any mist) the Burmecian became uncomfortably aware that this was likely to become one of those talks. The ones where important moral and philosophical things were said and wisdom was imparted, etcetera. She grimaced. Freya was certainly not the right person to do this. It should have been someone more diplomatic, like Garnet or even Zidane. Hell, Vivi could have had better luck advising Eiko then she would.

"It's been a long time, huh?" Eiko started. Her tone was carefully neutral, her face unreadable. Freya glanced at her through the corner of her eye.

"Not that long," Freya replied, since it wasn't true. She didn't believe in coddling children. Freya didn't believe in coddling anybody.

Eiko turned to her. Suddenly Freya could see the anger in the little girl's face. She was surprised at the intensity of it.

"It's been seven months," Eiko said fiercely. "Seven months. Cid taught me math, you know. That's less than a tenth of my life."

Freya raised an eyebrow. "What happened to 'daddy'?"

Eiko's face scrunched up, and than she turned back to the view. "It's a name," she finally said. "Like 'Dagger'."

Freya turned her body fully to Eiko now, leaning sideways against the railing. This girl was all ready speaking in circles. She'd be a great politician one day, but in the meantime Freya would appreciate cutting through the verbal garbage. "Hmm..." she examined her claws, "Having a hard time adjusting to parents, I assume?"

Eiko started with surprise. Then those sharp eyes turned a glare on her. "I'm-don't be stupid. They have been wonderful to me."

"I'm sure," Freya said simply. She waited.

Slowly, the glare faded away into something contemplative, a little too old and a little too knowing. Her eyes were sad.

Freya felt a little sorry for her. She had when she'd first seen the little purple haired street urchin clutching at Dagger's legs with those calculating eyes. She'd thought, this girl could be a queen. A flip of a coin and a few years, and she could have been Princess Garnet instead. But she wasn't and hadn't, she'd been a starving, dirty thief living in a dilapidated graveyard. Freya wondered what Eiko thought about when she lay in her plush feather stuffed mattress in her pearlescent pink suite next to her new and adoring parents. You could take a girl out of ruins, but could you take the ruin out of the girl?

As far as Freya knew, not really. Not for a long time.

Freya gave her space. She turned away and leaned over to peer straight down the castle walls. The height was incredible and it made Freya itch to take a jump.

Eiko was picking the sewn pearls off her sleeves. "Seven months feels like long time," she said at last. Her voice only slightly quivered.

"It isn't, really," Freya said dismissively. "Humans live an average of eighty years. Burmecians live over one hundred. Seven months is a minuscule number compared to those figures." Freya looked at Eiko. "No one has visited you?"

"No," Eiko said bitterly. "No one. Except Garnet, and that's because she had royal affairs to take care of, and that was only once." She seemed to pause, than continued, "Zidane stayed in Alexandria."

Freya nodded. "Someone should."

Eiko opened her mouth, than closed it and looked at the ground sullenly.

Freya regarded her with the hints of a Burmecian smile. It was okay, considering Eiko wouldn't recognize it anyway. "There has been a lot going on in Burmecia since the end," Freya said. "I have just very recently been allowed to leave. I am sure that Steiner and Zidane have their hands full with keeping Alexandria afloat, and I'm sure Vivi would have visited if he could. Quina…" Freya scratched her head, "…will come eventually, I'm sure. As for Amarant, well-" here she let out a small laugh, "I doubt Amarant would visit anyone."

"Not even you?" Eiko asked.

Freya frowned, perplexed. "I don't know what you mean."

Eiko studied Freya for a long moment, and then sighed. She knelt on the ground and leaned back against the stone railing, curling her arms around her knees.

"Is it wrong for me to hope," she said, so softly Freya almost didn't hear, "that I'd see everyone together again?"

Freya had to remind herself Eiko was seven because she certainly didn't sound or act like any seven-year-old Freya had seen. "It's not like we've forgotten, Eiko."

"Uh huh," the girl muttered.

Children. Freya sighed as well, then looked up into the sky. There were no longer any airships flying, all of them grounded and in their stations to be switched with mist-less engines. In the emptiness, the birds had reclaimed their lost territory. Huge flocks of birds of every color circled and wheeled up high, too high to distinguish any one individual. Freya thought she might miss them, when the airships were back.

Freya looked down at Eiko. "You know," she said against the fierce wind, "I don't think it's possible for any of us to forget. Not after seeing the crystal. Not after knowing who and what we are."

The crystal. The two fell silent, thinking about the crystal. It was not something mentioned often. It had...certainly been memorable. Darkness as thick as tar, squeezing the life from their lungs. Then the crystal. A piercing light, pale and fragile, cutting like a finely honed blade into the threads of their lives-and with it, the knowledge that they were nothing. Everything. A grain of sand on its surface.

Freya took a breath to chase away the sudden, sharp longing in her chest. "We won't forget. Would you?"

Eiko got to her feet slowly. When she was standing she turned and surprised Freya by hugging her. Freya stared at the girl's head awkwardly.

"Regent Cid and Lady Hilda," Eiko hiccuped and Freya was startled to hear the intense sadness in her voice. The tears. "I want them to be my parents. Sometimes I don't think they can. But I hope."

Freya thought of Fratley and all the setbacks and problems they faced (he loved her because of a memory and she loved the memory of him). Sometimes, she didn't think she could continue either, didn't think she could live with that burden.

But everyone had his or her burdens. The end had not been a happily ever after, no matter what Zidane said. Prices had been paid at a cost greater than most could bear. And still, life continued. One day those burdens might—would lift away. But for now they had each other. And hope.

"We destroyed Death himself, Eiko," Freya said lightly. "I think we have a right to claim a bit of peace for ourselves."

And as if to match word to action, her hand reached down and stiffly stroked Eiko's hair. It was okay, Freya reminded herself. It wasn't like there was anyone there to see.

Of course, she should have known better than to think that.

"A week tracking down your bony hide, and here you are, playing house with the kid," drawled a familiar voice. "Mother Crescent now, is it?"

Freya and Eiko whirled around to see none other than the Flaming-effing-Amarant squeezing through the doorway, his face smug enough that she wanted to punch it. More than she normally did.

"Amarant!" Eiko gasped.

Freya crossed her arms. Amarant always seemed to have the worst sense of timing.

"I wish your mother would have had the good sense to drown you when you were born," Freya said with annoyance. Amarant, finally pulling himself through, straightened and shook his long red hair from his face. That superior expression was insulting, frankly.

"She tried," Amarant shrugged. "She got far closer than you ever did."

Oh? Freya straightened, a hand drifting to her knife. "If I didn't know better, I'd think that was a challenge, Coral."

Amarant's response was to flip open his claws.

She didn't even have her lance but somehow, despite herself, Freya felt a surge of exhilaration. Now this was something she knew how to handle. Freya turned slightly to Eiko as she drew her blade. "One moment, princess? It seems I need to take out the trash."

Eiko's eyes shined bright, her grin a little nasty. "Of course. Please proceed."

In the end, no one quite expected the explosion that demolished the upper royal suites and put an early end to Freya and Amarant's visit. Nor the shocking view of a cackling little princess clinging like a monkey to a rail over the gaping stairs.

No one except, perhaps, Regeant Cid.