Filling In The Blanks
Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy IX or any of its characters.
Chapter 68: We're Just Warming Up
"Begin!" Lysandra yelled suddenly, and before her ringing voice had finally faded, Beatrix and Steiner shot off like a rocket, swords both drawn, ready to show the dreamer their true potential as a team.
Zidane always knew that Steiner and Beatrix were impressive. They had been captains of the two top brigades of Alexandria. And the blonde had seen them both fight countless times during his time, a little over a year, with the resistance. Between training, the battle at Dali, countless battles in the Alexandria dungeon, Ipsen's castle, and many more, he understood there was no way he could live up to either of their skills.
But together?
The blonde could hardly see them coming. Steiner's brute strength mixed with Beatrix's speed was deadly.
"Sometimes, you'll have countless hard enemies, and nobody to stand by you!" Lysandra gestured to the three of them, Zidane barely dodging blows, while the two ex-knights danced around him, closing in. "And sometimes… you'll have friends to help you fight!"
Beatrix slid underneath Steiner, catching Zidane's tail under her foot. With a sly smirk, she put all of the pressure she could on it, making him yelp.
"Sometimes, your advantages against one foe, will be the disadvantage to others," Lysandra continued to announce from a high rock behind them.
"Shit!" Zidane cursed as Steiner charged, arms raised above his head, sword glinting in the sun. He tugged under Beatrix's hold, but her armor was too heavy – painfully twisting his tail this way and that.
"I can't watch!" Eiko cried, slapping her hands over her eyes and squeezing them shut.
"I hope those swords aren't as dangerous as they look!" One of Lamien's friends commented in a mutter.
"These resistance people are ruthless!" A woman gasped, wincing the closer Steiner got to the struggling genome.
As his sword slashed downward, the blonde fully prepared for a blow, the clash of steel suddenly rang out in the air. Zidane's eyes popped open, and he saw his best friend standing above him.
His arms were shaking a little, and his teeth were barred, but he had proven an effective counter.
"Blank!?"
"Came to help you out," he turned his head to the side, and the older thief saw his grim smirk.
"I thought this was training –"
"It's also supposed to be a stimulation of the battle ground," he ground out as Steiner broke contact and stumbled back. He backed up to Beatrix, whom Blank had kicked back before blocking the man's blow, and both of them stood in an unbreakable line. "And there's no way in hell I would let you get sliced down by anybody because of your handicap!"
As the knight-duo charged again, Zidane rolled back on his shoulders and kicked up into a standing position, immediately sliding into a hostile stance. "Handicap?" He looked at his tail, a little dusty from the woman crunching it into the ground. "This is not a handicap!"
Both of them dove out of the way when Beatrix sent a lightning spell at them.
"Come on boys!" Beatrix taunted, her tone hard and superior, "Give us a little excitement!"
Needless to say, as the two thieves continued to dodge countless attacks from the woman, as Steiner stood to defend her, the audience was hooked. Neither those from Ipsen's castle nor those from Lindblum had ever seen something this spectacular before. The Pluto Knights and the Rose Brigade were known throughout the world, and to see the captains fight against two crafty thieves was something else entirely.
"We need a plan!" Zidane admitted, tucking and rolling out of the way of Steiner's large sword.
"Since when have we ever done anything with a plan?" Blank laughed, leaping over Beatrix.
"Do something!" Beatrix told them, her grinning eyes locking in on the redhead.
As she advanced dramatically slow on the thief, an idea suddenly shot through Zidane. He slid to a stop where he was running, Steiner hot on his trails, and turned completely around. Running close to the ground for easy cover, he ran straight towards the ex-knight, catching him completely off guard. Before he could react however, the genome slid underneath him, leaping back to his feet and running directly between Beatrix and Blank. Steiner's armor caught her sword, and made an uncomfortable dent on his shoulder.
"Sorry," she told him sheepishly as they moved towards the two.
"You have a plan now?" Blank asked as they backed up.
"Yup!" He flipped his dagger around, hearing the satisfying whirl of metal in the air, before sheathing it. He laced his hands together and gestured for Blank to use them as a springboard. The redhead read his mind, and as soon as Steiner got close enough, he was off.
Soaring through the air, he twisted, dodging Steiner's attempted catch, and sweeping low enough to kick him in the abdomen. He stumbled back into Beatrix, but she skipped out from underneath him.
Their fighting continued like that back and forth for awhile, their energy waning. Blank and Zidane were just as good of a duo, their speed lightning like, making it hard to predict their movements. Unfortunately for them, however, Beatrix and Steiner still had the upper hand. Years more of practice, and much more structure to their attacks, they threw their swords into the dirt, sticking them next to the two friends.
Zidane spluttered out a breath after it was over, his eyes widening. "Man I thought that would never end!"
"You two put up a good fight," Steiner praised them, offering a hand to Blank to help him up. Beatrix did the same for the blonde, and grinned at him as he stood.
"Your skills have improved so much in the last year, Zidane… It looks like you've finally gotten back into the swing of battle."
He shrugged, sideways glancing at Blank, "He's really the only reason… His style reminds me so much of things I can't remember, that it comes more naturally…" A lopsided grin overtook his face, "Everybody really… helped bring me back."
Before they could get anymore sentimental, Lysandra called out for the next group to come out in battle. The four of them stepped to the side, still trying to catch their breath.
"I don't think fighting Kuja's soldiers will be quite that fun," Blank commented, standing up the quickest. He crossed his arms over his chest, and straightened arrogantly – his same pose for every situation.
"I don't think anything is going to be as fun as watching this next fight!" Zidane chuckled, pointing to the ring. Out from the crowd that had formed stepped Freya, and none other than Fratley. Both of them stood erect, rigid with obedience, their spears glinting in the sunlight.
"I don't see this lasting very long," Someone said to the side of their small group, his voice stand-offish. "I mean, this is the Bermecian couple in the resistance, right? There's no way their going to hold their own against each other… They're in love. They're going to go easy on each other, and it's going to be a boring fight."
Blank narrowed his eyes, slithering over to the man who just talked. He was young – probably about the same age as him, and though he was taller, Blank was far more intimidating. "Excuse me, who are you again?"
The boy glared, crossing his arms. "The name's Cadat."
"Where are you from?"
"Lindblum… I was a knight for Lady Hilda!" He said it like he had more experience than all the people here.
"Well Cadat… Be prepared for a little surprise. We resistance members are far tougher than you think."
He snorted, unimpressed, before folding his arms a little tighter of his chest. "You don't impress me."
"Whatever, your loss really…" Blank chuckled, making Cadat secretly wonder if he was wrong about something.
"How long has it been since we've sparred like this, Freya?" Fratley called out, his tone ultimately friendly.
"It has been a long time…" She agreed with a nod, tilting her hat back so she could properly look at her opponent.
"Let us see how much you have improved since I've stopped being your teacher."
"I can tell you, you will be surprised," She chuckled, crouching down into an offensive position. Fratley moved into a different one entirely – more constructed, like an army soldier.
"Begin!" Lysandra yelled roughly. Secretly however, she was itching to see the fight. She knew that the Bermecians were always good – a few lived among the people in Ipsen's Region, spotting the human-dominant area. But Freya and Fratley – both Dragon Knights of Bermecia back in the day, and being with this resistance for longer than any outsider could know made them top notch – up there with Beatrix and Steiner, but faster, and more agile.
Both of them circled each other, eyeing the other carefully. Neither made a klutzy first move, sloppily trying to land a hit. They danced, too far away to reach each other, but synchronized in every step they took.
"I told you," Cadat chuckled, tossing his head arrogantly. "What a boring fight."
And just like that, the two in the middle had vanished.
"Where'd they go?!" Many people glanced this way and that, trying to spot the two Bermecians.
"Up there!" Someone gasped, and chatter rose and fell in the audience. As though part of their act, both of them summoned their dragon power at precisely the same time.
"Dragon crest!" Freya yelled, completing the summon of her most powerful attack. But as she watched Fratley, her dragon screaming in her ear, she saw he had summoned the same attack. One light blue dragon, and one forest green dragon appeared oblique in the sky and danced around each other, lunging and biting, as the two Bermecians continued floating, suspended above the ground.
Their dragons dueled it out for a few minutes as each tried to find a strategy that would work against the other. As the dragon's demolished each other, they felt themselves free falling back to the earth. Freya gripped the hilt of her spear, glaring as she readied herself to land gracefully on her feet.
Fratley took a more drastic role and tuck and rolled, his curl at the exactly right angle at exactly the right time. He looked more like a mouse, rolling and springing freely back to his feet.
Unfortunately for him, his landing was a bit showier than Freya's, and she was upon him, sweep-kicking, elbowing and jutting her spear at him, trying to knock the lance from his firm grasp.
Eventually, he caught up with her movements, and they clashed, moving in slanted patterns along their designated fighting circle.
She grit her teeth as his resistance toughened up. Fratley was bigger than her, and was naturally able to push her back. Her feet dug into the musky ground, and she growled a little, huffing to push back on him. She couldn't get a very steady holding point because he continued to shove her into the dirt.
"She's not doing so hot against him." Someone commented from the crowd; her ears zoned in on their conversation.
"I don't think she's a very good fighter at all. She's so weak!"
Almost biting her tongue, she narrowed her eyes and let out a small, menacing growl. How dare they decide if she was weak or not – perhaps they just didn't know how strong Fratley really was and…
She trailed of, pushing against him a little bit harder. With a feeling of great accomplishment, she stepped out of the hole she'd created with her foot, using her claws and pure strength to push against him and advance.
"Freya!" He laughed, eyes sparkling. "I'm impressed!"
"This is just the beginning!"
Her mind pulled her back, more years than she could count, remembering some of her father's last words to her when she was young.
"Do you want to prove yourself to me?!" He had demanded, spit flying from his mouth as he leaned over, towering over his daughter.
"Yes!" She cried out, trying not to look intimidated.
"Well it's not working!" He barked in her direction, clutching his fists together. "Your mother was a great warrior, and your skills are nothing like hers! This training – this is just the beginning you brat!" He took a dark plum swig from the half empty bottle, seeing doubles as he tried not to sway on the spot.
Freya's mother had died not long ago – two years at most – after a night raid of the city. The assassins never actually touched her – they'd tried to poison her daughter with a sickness, and Francesca was only trying to protect her, catching the deadly toxin instead. Civil war had overtaken the Bermecians, both Cleyra and Bermecia fighting violently on whose views were right, and whose were wrong. The night that her mother had fallen sick marked the last raid on Bermecia before the two cities came to an agreement to stop killing their brethren. Her father had always held a bitterness for Freya after that, slowly letting go of his protectiveness over her, instead claiming that it was her fault that his wife had died, even though it wasn't. But she spent all of her time and energy trying to make it up to him.
It never usually worked.
"Get out of my sight!" He grunted, shoving off of his chair, not caring that it clattered to the ground, as he wandered aimlessly out of the room. Freya bit her lip, staring down at the piece of furniture.
Her long, ice colored hair was done up in one long braid cascading down her back like rope, and her eyes, wide and childlike, were hardened with the rage of a grieving parent who wanted close to nothing to do with her.
She stood abruptly, abandoning her post, and running out in the dreary weather of Bermecia. Rain pattered down on the sidewalk as she ran, forcing tears from her eyes. She would not cry. Freya was not a crier, and she wasn't about to start.
As her little feet swept her away, she realized she hadn't the faintest idea where she was going – but that only made her push harder. The further, the better! Dodging the people in the street, she could hardly keep up with her movements. Eventually, the momentum caught up with her, and she clattered to the ground, skidding on the rain-soaked cobblestone.
"Oh! Are you okay?" She glanced up, water and mud smeared on her face, as a Bermecian boy, only a few years older than her, stared down at her, his head cocked. He had a, absurd looking outfit on – something resembling Robin Hood, with a long tunic, shorts, and a ridiculous green hat with a red feather sticking out of it.
"I'm fine," she grumbled, trying to push herself up.
"Let me help!" He piped.
"I'm fine!" She hissed, but he helped her anyways.
"That's some speed you've got there!" He praised, a pleasant smile on his face. "You'd do really well in the Dragon Knight training."
"Dragon… Knight… training?" She repeated with a tilt of her head. "What is that?"
"Only the most popular form of formal training we can go through to be in the royal guard!" A dazzling smile overtook his features, and she couldn't help but feel mesmerized by his attitude. "My papa is a dragon knight, and he said it is the best form of protection and loyalty this city has ever seen, and I am in the pre-training to be accepted into the Dragon Knights someday!" He gave an overly-excited nod. "I'm Irontail, by the way!"
She tilted her head, trying to decipher if he was going to be a burden to talk to. But this boy was the first person ever to express kindness to her that she didn't know in her own household, so she decided to take her chances. "Freya."
"That's a pretty name!" He praised, turning around.
She blushed, stupefied for a moment as he jerked his parents to where the two were standing. "Mama, papa, this is Freya! She is my new friend!" They laughed at Irontail's over-friendliness, a fondness that the girl ached for in her heart, showing easily in their eyes.
But soon his mother sobered and looked at her, her eyes pitying. "It's lovely to meet you, Freya…" She turned and whispered something to her husband, and he nodded all-knowingly. "Say, would you like to come for dinner?"
Irontail went crazy, dancing around them with joy overflowing from his small but tall frame. "That would be wonderful!"
An uncomfortable feeling settled in Freya. Was she intruding on these people? But why ask her then… She glanced at the hopeful face of her new friend and realized she wanted to get to know them better. After a slow nod, the boy clasped her hand in his, and that's when she noticed the funny looking ribbon attached to the pouch around his waist.
"What's that?" She couldn't help but ask as he dragged her away, whisking her into a world where she would find love and protection, instead of the hostility and frustration of her own home.
"This?" He pulled at the neat bow for a moment before shrugging. "My mama gave this to me. She told me that she made this ribbon special and cut it in half, giving one to me and one to my Papa, telling me it was a protection charm, and it would always keep the holder safe!"
She puckered her lips, suddenly wishing she still had the mother she'd lost two years ago.. But the sadness couldn't last long. Not when Irontail was around. His blabbering never ceased, and she was wisped away in questions about his life, always keeping the topic off of her.
Dinner was marvelous, and playtime afterwards was exciting too. It was when she had fallen asleep on their couch with Irontail, both snoozing after using up so much energy that the problem began.
Kuja's first ever raid on the city. It wasn't really to try and take over Bermecia – he was just starting out in his ranks, after all… But he wanted to probe their defenses, to see how much energy he would have to exert years from now when he actually tried to break down their walls. His men had swarmed the eastern part of the city, breaking into every home they came across – Freya's house being one of the unlucky victims.
Her father was found murdered the next day, Freya still safely with Irontail and his family, as he clutched a picture of his wife. The knights who went in to investigate if there were any other people in the house said no one had even been upstairs. He never tried to flee to make sure his daughter would survive.
Freya's fighting seemed almost automatic as she recalled the first night she had ever met Fratley. Back then he was just as passionate and life-loving as he was now, and at one point, her attacks almost ceased completely. It might have just been training, but the impact he made on her life, pulling her away the one night she would need protection the most, made her want to stop and hug him, wrapping him in a embrace and never letting him go.
But she knew she had to prove herself. She learned over the years of time spent with his family, if she had wanted to impress even her father at a young age, then there was close to nothing that could stop her from wishing for praise – no matter how simple – from Fratley and his family. But she shoved those thoughts out of her mind. Those were stories for a different time, and right now, she had to focus.
She did a front hand spring, leaping from the ground with her spear still in her hand – enough of an arc so it didn't catch in the dirt. Fratley back peddled as fast as he could, his lance out in front of him protectively. When she finally stopped, only inches from where he stood, she wasted no time in slamming her weapon down, the other Bermecian barely able to block.
He laughed, the sound tinkling and calming to her frustrated ears. She didn't like thinking of the past – she only wanted to focus on the future – what needed to get done, and better – her time with Fratley.
His lance, tinted green in the sunlight, slammed against her weapon, and he used the momentum to spin around, connecting a kick to her side. She flipped in the air, landing easily on her feet and not missing a beat before she charged again. Narrowing her eyes, she flipped over him, settling for a kick in his back.
It almost missed him, because he was so prepared to counter already, but the impact was enough to make him stumble. He fell to his knees and waited to get back up until she was behind him, so he could buck his legs and kick her. It knocked the breath out of her as she stumbled back, reaching for something to grab onto.
He spun, rising to his feet as he did so, still in a ready position to fight. "Come Freya, I know that is not all you've learned!"
With a shaky half-breath, she leapt forward again, doing a complicated dance to throw him off guard. It was irritating to her, because Fratley taught her most of the steps that she knew… They were in the guard together – the only difference in their training happening after Fratley had been promoted to the Royal Guard just two years before they joined with the resistance.
She tried to think… What had she learned from the others? She thought about Zidane and Blank – their fight against the two swordsmen that lead the group. They bounced off of each other like springboards, and that seemed to work so well with their smaller size and more flexible armor. She might have been taller than all of the other races in the resistance, but if there was one person taller than she, it would be Fratley.
As she landed gracefully behind him, instead of turning and fighting, she took off at a dead sprint towards the tree. The crowd shuffled, murmurs rising and falling in the crowd.
"Is she fleeing?"
"Does she know what she's doing?"
"What is she doing?!" The whispers rushed around her, and she blocked them out for the most part, focusing on the details of the jagged bark.
"Freya!" Fratley shouted at her, giving chase with narrowed eyes. He figured it was some kind of a trap, but he wasn't going to let her get away – especially if he had hurt her.
Her momentum had her leaning forward, trying to mimic the movements that gave her genome friend so much speed. As soon as she was in range, she jumped, soaring through the air as though suspended, shooting her feet out in front of her.
There was a sickening snap as her strong feet connected with the tree, turning ninety degrees and making a solid indent into the wood as she pushed off, dizzying her head when she shot off in the other direction – going even faster than she had been before.
Fratley realized what she was doing too late, and with a frightened look, tried to dive out of the way. He wasn't even sure, if this was a real enemy, if it would work sticking the sharp end of his spear out – she was going way too fast.
Scampering to move didn't work too well as she collided with him, a loud thump echoing as their bodies connected. Fratley's back took the fall and skidded in the dust, throwing up a cloud, curtaining them from their audience.
He finally came to a stop in the sand, a startled look still hanging on his features. Her eyes were suddenly soft, all determination flickered out from them as she leaned over his body. She pressed against him, feeling the soft heat that was her protection, seeing the ribbon still tied neatly around his weapon.
"Thank you… for everything," she whispered, her voice hushed. She bent down, hands on either side of his head, and left a chaste kiss on his lips.
Before any of the mumbling crowd could make out what was going on, she was standing, her face neutral again as Fratley lay, still dumbstruck, on the ground, blinking and wondering what exactly just happened.
For a moment, as the crowd took in the scene, there was silence. But as soon as Freya took a step, wild cheering broke out. That was one of the more intense fights most of the audience had ever even seen.
"Told you," Blank mocked from the side lines, rolling back onto his heels, and jutting his hip out in a taunting fashion as he crossed his arms over his chest. His lips quirked up into an irritating jeer, and he shrugged. "Guess sometimes newcomers should keep their mouths shut." He snapped at Cadat, who stood, still starry eyed from the fight.
"Blank!" Ruby harrumphed, crossing her arms after hitting him on the head. "Just because some newbies are assholes –" she glared towards the blonde, still blinking rather confused, and maybe a little embarrassed, "- doesn't mean ya get to go 'round bein' one back!"
He chuckled, not taking offense to her statement as he shrugged, moving away from the fight.
"Freya…" She turned when she heard her lover rise behind her. "You fought well…"
She chuckled. "You know… I feel as though I cheated."
"What?!" He spluttered, moving closer to her, arm outstretched. "How?"
"That strategy I used to beat you…" She turned, the smallest of delighted smiles evident on her face, and in her eyes. "I learned only one fight before ours." She waved dismissively as she turned, "Perhaps I have not advanced as much as I've fooled you into thinking… But I have friends to help me pretend so." She'd let that sink in with the Bermecian for awhile, both knowing he'd said that same line to her years ago, talking about himself.
Fratley only overturned a smile, letting out a breathless chuckle. "She is just… something." He decided, before exiting the ring as well, feeling better than he had, even before he was pummeled into the ground.
It was time to do what he'd been meaning to do for the last near-decade.
It was time to ask Freya to marry him.
A/N: So I know that wasn't the greatest place to stop, but it will have to do! Their training was a lot harder to write than expected, but I hope it was interesting at least.
I hope you enjoyed! :D
-zesty-
