Filling In The Blanks

Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy IX or any of its characters.

Chapter 78: Impulse

"Freya is gone…"

Beatrix and Steiner stared at the raven haired teenager for a moment. It seemed all three of them fell into a baffled haze, the sounds around them melting into silence. Questions raced forward, the two adults eager to ask the girl, but the questions died in their throats.

"Gone?" Beatrix parroted in disbelief. "What do you mean gone?"

"I was out…" She bit her lip, eyes averting to the ground for just a moment. "Walking, when I ran into her…" Dagger shook out her shoulder-length black hair. "She looked upset, or mad, or… something, and told me she wished to scout out Bermecia before we got there, and that she'd meet us there! Why did she do this?!" Dagger suddenly panicked, backing up and letting her shoulders droop. "Why did she just suddenly leave?"

"Perhaps she does want to scout it out," Steiner said gently, although his own nerves quivered with the thoughts of why she would want to leave in the middle of the night by herself. "Bermecia is her home Dagger, maybe she feels –"

"Have you three seen Freya anywhere?" They all turned to see Fratley slowly moving towards them, a sense of nervousness about him – wringing his hands together, continually tilting his hat back to see them with his piercing eyes.

"Why?" Dagger asked, suddenly suspicious of the way he was standing. She stood tall, the dumbfounded expression never leaving her face despite her new skepticism towards the Bermecian. "What happened?"

"Dagger –" Beatrix started, but abruptly stopped when Fratley began to explain.

"We had an… an argument," he decided on. "Cleyra has asked me to stay and train troops and help protect their city because of rumored war-threats for the second time here… And she got upset with me and left…"

The youngest of the group smoothed down her yellow jumpsuit, as though it'd been ruffled in all of her confusion. That explained everything precisely.

"Freya left, Fratley…" Steiner finally answered, seeing as neither of the girls were going to do it.

"What do you mean?" He asked curiously. His tone was calm – obviously he didn't believe she had left, left.

"She went ahead to scout Bermecia… She told Dagger to tell us the next time she saw us."

A smile flickered on his face. "Do not be ridiculous –"

"Did she leave because of your fight?" The girl asked before realizing she had probably overstepped her boundaries of respect and bowed her head in apology. Her fingers weaved together behind her back.

"Freya is really…" He trailed off before taking off his hat, eyebrows knitting together. "Did she say anything else?"

She shook her head.

"Oh no…" he mumbled, realizing that his decision to give her space today had been the wrong one. "We have to go after her –"

"We should not go out there in the middle of the night… We have unfinished business here, and must be here when Amarant and Eiko arrive…" Steiner shook his head, "If there is one person I trust to be out there alone, it's Freya."

His statement didn't do much to help the morphed expression of mental pain on Fratley's face. He kept mumbling to himself about her actually leaving, before he droned passed them, his footsteps heavy, without the usual chipper spring in them.

Beatrix and Steiner followed inside, hoping that they could talk about this more in private. Dagger lingered on the doorstep of the inn, staring out, trying to reach past the force field of sand.

"Be safe…" she whispered before turning inside.


Vivi kicked his legs back and forth on the bed. He wasn't quite tall enough to reach the floor, but maybe it was more entertaining this way.

He had been the first one up – like the past few days since they'd entered Treno. Everyone was utterly exhausted, but the potions and here-and-there alcohol probably didn't help them either. Plus, Vivi was anxious…

He wasn't sure how much longer they'd be in Treno – he actually wasn't sure if anyone had done anything to try and recruit resistance members yet, but he knew after they were finished, they'd be heading to Quan's Dwelling – his home…

What could he expect being back there? He recalled the large pots of spices and the ever-present aroma of delicious and exotic foods. He remembered the stone balcony and the fire pit they always used to roast food over, and sit there while Quan told Vivi stories of the world.

The qu had taught him everything he knew – how to be a good person, and what sort of thing he should try and do in his life. Quan always had the 'life is short' motto pressed into his very character, which seemed all too ironic now.

The mage remembered Quale pulling him aside and telling him that maybe – just maybe his grandpa was still alive. Hope sparked in Vivi then more than it had the whole time they'd been in the resistance. There was a chance he could see his grandpa again, and he was going to cling to it with everything he had.

But there was that slim chance that the qu had indeed died. He shivered. Vivi didn't even want to think about what would happen if that were true. Even though he had stopped dreaming of seeing his Grandpa again a long time ago, he still hoped someday they would be reunited… Would something in his old home direct him otherwise?

"Vivi? What are you doing awake so early?" The mage jumped when he saw Zidane poke his head through the door. How he had missed that annoying creak of the wood, he hadn't any idea.

"Zidane?" He glanced around, seeing the lump where he thought the blonde had been slumbering. "I didn't even know you were awake!"

He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "I have been for awhile –" he gestured to the bags in his one hand, "I was getting supplies and talking to a few people Baku instructed me to."

So they were doing things – just without the help of the mage. It was probably easier that way; Vivi was never very persuasive or outgoing when it came to meeting others.

"You guys are all normally still sleeping… I just like to sit here and think."

Zidane's blue eyes went soft as he entered the room, lowering his voice a little more – just above a whisper. "Are you thinking about your Grandpa?"

"How'd you know?"

He smiled, "We were dreamers together, don't you remember?"

There was silence for a moment as Zidane unpacked his morning findings and put them on the desk across the room.

"Zidane?"

"Hm?" He questioned, tilting his head to the side.

"Do you still get flashbacks of your past? Like before we were in the dream world?"

The blonde turned around and blinked at the mage whose yellow eyes shone with curiosity, peppered with something more that the genome couldn't quite make out.

"Let's go for a walk and talk about it, huh? There are still a few things you can help me find!"

Vivi gave one big nod, "Okay!"

Both of them exited the room and wove their way through the early-morning tenants of the inn, finally pushing onto the already-crowded street.

They walked for a little while, Zidane humming a little tune as they dodged bustling people – too frazzled to stop and enjoy the fact that Kuja's soldiers weren't covering every inch of the city.

In Treno, more impressive than Lindblum, none of Kuja's wanted posters were visible, all covered with help wanted signs, advertising auditions, and sale signs all over the place. Plastered to almost every surface was a big program information pamphlet about the Tetra Master Card Tournament coming up in less than a month. These people sure still knew how to have fun.

The sun bore into the city, hardly dashed by the walls of the slums, or canopies of the rich. It was a hot day – not unlike any other day in Treno. With so many bodies in such a small area, it was bound to get a little tight and uncomfortable after awhile.

Zidane sidestepped a little girl running with two new dolls in her hands, and laughed as a drunken man tried to dance with Vivi. His eyes were so large with fear that eventually, the blonde swept him away, taking pity on the poor little mage.

The thief pointed out pick pocketers to Vivi as they made their way to an unknown place. He ducked down close and whispered to the mage about how you could tell someone was about to steal, and encouraged Vivi to give it a try.

"I couldn't!" He gasped, "I'd get caught!"

"You can't be a real thief with Tantalus unless you try it," he winked, chuckling at his own peer pressure. "I'll show you…" He squared his shoulders and walked calmly down the street… Though he didn't seem suspicious, he stood out to the mage's bright yellow eyes because he wasn't acting quite as hectic as everyone else.

One palm out, instead of flat against his thigh, and he bumped into a woman with her purse slung on her shoulder.

"Sorry ma'am," he mumbled, though she didn't seem to notice him as they both stepped in the same direction. "Oops!" He grinned and scratched his head. She hardly even registered his apology before flitting away. Zidane turned around and winked at Vivi, showing a sparkling gil coin to him.

Walking back to the mage, he flipped him the coin. "You just have to keep contact for long enough to stick your hand in to whatever they're holding. It's simple really – especially in Treno." He smiled, "This is where they took a lot of Tantalus members to teach them how to steal loot before Kuja had taken over too much. I heard lots of stories from Baku about his training here – this is the best place for it, because everyone is so busy and in such a rush, they hardly notice some stupid kid they bumped into on the street."

"You really think I could do it?"

"It's not hard, even when you're being obvious about it."

Vivi puckered his lips in thought. It did sound sort of fun, and he would have something to show for his time with Tantalus if it worked. He stared at Zidane, a sense of giddy determination tingling in his tiny limbs. "I'll try it!"

"Okay!" The blonde laughed, bending down next to him. People made a bulge in their path, skating around the two closer to the ground. He glanced around for a moment before turning back to his friend. "Do you see that bright red hat in the distance?"

Vivi glanced up before spotting it easily. "Yeah!"

"Take from her purse…" He smirked at the younger boy. "And do exactly as I did!"

"O-okay…" His confidence was rapidly falling as the woman approached, but he tried it anyways. His movements mirrored Zidane's impressively so. He was just about in the clear, clutching two gil pieces in his hand, before his hand mercilessly got stuck in the lady's purse.

The leather bag pulled back away from her when Vivi didn't move, and she glanced back, seeing his gloved hand still in her satchel. "Thief!" She suddenly yelled, alerting everyone around them and maybe a few of the black mages by the shops. "Thief! The little thief is trying to steal my money!"

"Uh oh!" Zidane's face dropped, before brightening into an exhilarated grin. "Run!" He shouted to Vivi, dashing off in the mage's direction and snatching up his hand as he went. People around them started to mumble and shout at the duo, but the genome safely lead them away, moving quicker than Vivi even thought he could.

His laugh echoed out in the air as they started to reach a more abandoned part of the city. A few of the buildings were falling apart, and poorer children were playing on the street with tattered clothes and even more beat up toys.

"That was fun!" Zidane puffed out excitedly.

"Fun?!" Vivi asked him, bewildered.

"Well," he scratched the back of his head sheepishly, "You know, for some of us." The blonde gave a wink and gestured to Vivi's gloves, "But look!"

He opened his hands, and realized with stunned guilt that he still clutched the two gil pieces in his hands.

They glinted in the sun, signaling that they were indeed real pieces of money – the first real stuff he'd ever had in his possession before.

"Wow!" He breathed out, glancing up at Zidane. "I got them?"

"It looks like it!" He laughed, before turning to a little girl and her slumbering mother on the street. He bent down, and Vivi watched as he made quiet conversation with the girl, her face smeared with dirt. Towards the end of the exchange, he flipped her the coin and ruffled her hair, standing and looking back at the mage with an ever-dazzling on his face.

Vivi couldn't help but remember how painfully selfless Zidane was… Bitterly, he tacked on to his thoughts – never dare saying them out loud – that that kindness would probably get him killed one of these days… But the fact the blonde still did these things made Vivi realize that if they helped win the war, there would be people out there who would learn from the genome's examples, and the world still had hope.

Wobbly on his feet, like always, he meandered towards the girl, now staring at them with a curious sparkle. Her eyes lightened as he dropped another piece of gil into her hands and yanked down on his hat to shield his eyes.

"Thank you," she told him shyly, enveloping him in a hug for a brief moment, before hurrying to wake up her mother. If Vivi could blush, he definitely would have been.

He turned back to Zidane, who looked probably more proud than he needed to, before they started walking again.

"I'm going to keep the second piece of gil," he laughed lightly, the sound feeling strange on his tongue after so many nights of stress. "To prove that I did what you told me to!"

Zidane's own chiming laugh filled the air before it fell into a comfortable silence again. Footsteps tapped loudly against the weathered stone, beaten down by rain and sunshine.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he glanced down at the mage. "I do get memory flashbacks still, sometimes…" Vivi glanced up at him with surprise, but the genome was already staring straight forward, his boots scuffing the old stone. "But they aren't nearly as important as they used to be… I'm not really introduced to any new people – just fun, but sometimes painful memories of my past that I'm glad I remember."

"Oh…" Vivi contemplated this as they walked, waddling along, playing children now dodging them as they moved at a relaxed pace down the pavement.

"Do you?" The blonde asked, sounding so much less sure of himself than he had just moments ago.

"Sometimes… like when I'm dreaming…" He glanced up at his best friend. "They're always about my Grandpa… He taught me everything I know…"

"He sounds like a really smart guy," His comment sounded genuine, and it had Vivi smiling.

"He really is… I hope I get to see him again."

"I hope you do too, Vivi," Zidane patted the mage's hat as they rounded through a lit up alley and back out onto the main street. "I hope that you get to do everything you wanted to, before our lives were interrupted by the dream Alexandria."

A little shyly, Vivi spoke a bold statement. "I hope you and Dagger get to be happy together."

Zidane stared wide eyed at his friend, his eyelashes brushing over his cheeks as he blinked. The wind blew his bangs into his azure eyes, piercing through the dirt griming up his face. Then he chuckled, and relaxed back into his previous position – hands stuffed in his pockets, feet almost dancing across the stone, and his head thrown back to stare up at the bright, blue sky as though there were no worries in the world.

"Me too Vivi, me too…"


"You're just so… so…" He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This girl was hardly likeable. She was annoying, and he sort of would rather be in a battle against Kuja at this very moment in time. "what's the right word for it?" She asked, though expected no answer. He had already made the mistake of answering twice, and she had yelled at him, swatting him on the head.

"Grumpy."

He froze on the spot, staring down at the little brat he had to escort all the way from the Grotto, to the marsh, back through the Grotto, then on to Cleyra.

"I am not grumpy!" He folded his arms and stared down at the little seven-year-old girl, her purple hair flying back from her face when she looked up into the wind.

"Yes you are!" She insisted, tugging on his leg. "I mean, look at you! You basically scream brooding! I think that you're being a little overdramatic, I mean nobody can be that –"

His leg twitched. How much would he love to kick this little devil away from him right now? He might pay someone to get rid of her. Amarant began walking again, not really caring if Eiko was going to follow him anymore or not.

"Am I annoying you?" She finally asked, though her tone suggested she didn't believe it herself.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" He bit out through clenched teeth.

She smiled and giggled – the sound filling up the empty air around them. "I like you," she decided. "Not like I like Zidane, of course… But I like you, you have a good heart."

He narrowed his eyes, staring down at the oblivious little girl. "Where did you say you were from?"

"Madain Sari! Born and raised there – raised by the moogles of course!"

"Do you not know your real parents?"

She shook her head. "They died when I was little, and I hardly remember them anymore… I remember faces, and maybe a name or two, but not two things that I can put together…" She didn't sound particularly upset as she pushed her thick hair away from her face.

He mulled over this, crossing his arms and slinking along on the path. They were silent for a few moments – at least – as silent as Eiko could get. She skipped a few feet ahead of him, swinging her arms back and forth and humming some unrecognizable tune. Birds flew over head, making shadows she would race with, before losing interest and continuing on the path.

"What about you?"

Her voice startled him out of his musings as he looked at her. She stopped ahead of him and peeked up, almost shyly, at his tall figure.

"What about me?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She scuffed her sagging boot into the dried up dirt of the path, before frowning and bending down to pull up her footwear.

"I mean… Where is your family?"

He stared at her with an uncomfortably blank expression. "I don't have a family."

Amarant continued walking, past the little girl who seemed not to notice when she brought up an awkward subject, ignoring her slack jaw and befuddled face.

"Well, maybe not anymore!" She told him, as if he already didn't know, "But what were they before?"

He sucked in a breath, flexing his fingers so as not to choke the girl. Amarant always thought he had a pretty good hold on his emotions… but Eiko? She ran them to a whole new level.

However, the more and more he thought about her question, the less and less angry he became. Nobody had ever bothered to ask about his family before, and truth be told – it was a little different than anyone else's.

Maybe the seven year old was more perceptive than he originally thought.

His decision was one a whim, but he thought maybe he would fill her in on the story he hardly remembered. "When everyone speaks of a broken past, they mostly start with the pain of losing their parents…"

"Yeah? So?" She fell into step next to him, and he hoped as he delved into his story, that she would quiet down.

"Not for me… My parents are hardly people I care to remember. I never knew my mother. Apparently, according to the drunken ramblings of my fighter-father, I was dropped off at his doorstep with a note attached to my basket to tell him that she was not dealing with the mess he left her in.

"I was abandoned before I was given a chance." He stopped for a second and took a peak at the girl. A hard expression coated her face, and that made him wonder if he should continue.

"Then what?" She prompted.

"Once I was able to walk on my own and speak by myself, I was out of the house. I went back occasionally to make sure this man who was my flesh and blood, but nothing close to my father, was still breathing, and sometimes I would try to tell him of my accomplishments, but he would shrug me off… Until one day…"

" 'Red' He would call me, infuriatingly enough… I was convinced it was because he truly didn't know my real name." Amarant's eyes raised towards the sun, as though remembering something in a whole different lifetime.

"Listen up, kid… I need ya to finish up some stuff for your old Pops, okay?"

"What kind of stuff?" A six year old Amarant peered up at the man, resent already growing in his eyes. "I don't owe you nothin'!"

Suddenly, his father was gripping his vest tightly, glaring into his green eyes – flecked with golden flakes. "Ya owe me your life you damn brat!" He leaned closer, almost touching their foreheads. "I gave you a home!"

"You're a sorry excuse for a father…" That said man spit on Amarant's face, shoving him forcefully into the wall.

"Yer gon' do this for me anyways, Sport," his father advised through clenched teeth. Amarant didn't miss the glint of his father's claws in his sleeve.

"What do you want?" He demanded, roughly wiping the spittle off of his face.

"Yer gon' take this money, and pay me off some bills so nobody comes after me! I'm blowin' this popsicle stand! Got some show girl pregnant – I am not takin' responsibility for 'nother demon like you! Goin' off to Lindblum! A city of opportunities – not a chain like that woman and her unborn daughter would be." He blanched, obviously disgusted with the situation.

The house they were in was small and damp. Amarant's father obviously hadn't done a very good job providing personal hygiene – which was one of the first reasons the boy had decided to strike out on his own. He'd had better luck anyways.

If one was to know that this man, a bottle of scotch permanently glued to one hand, was Amarant's father, nobody would believe it. He had dirty blonde hair and musty brown eyes – nothing like the bright crimson hair and green-gold eyes adorning his son. The redhead wanted nothing more than to know his mother, but something monstrous in the man before him told her she wanted nothing to do with his son – even though it was half of her genetics.

"Unborn daughter?" He parroted stupidly.

"I warned her not to give that damn girl any details! I don't want no long-lost brat comin' ta find me!" He slammed his fist into the rotting wooden pillar next to it, listening to the satisfying crack as it echoed around the room. "Well… As much as I'd like to lie to ya and say it was fun, it was really a pain in the ass and I regret havin' ya… See ya in 'nother life, Red!" He gave a half-salute to his son and walked out the door, never to be seen again.

He glanced down at the money, deciding right away he wasn't going to pay off his father's bills, but use it for his own gain. He glanced up and out the window, watching the bustle of people pass the rundown building like nothing was left inside.

Maybe nothing was left for him here in this broken childhood. Maybe even at six years old, he knew his father was good for nothing, and that it was just him in the world now…

But maybe not.

Out there was a woman, her hopes and dreams shattered by the thought of bearing a child, but to him – all of his bright future blossomed in that unborn baby girl.

He had a half-sister that he was determined to find someday… He was determined to tell her not to bother looking for her father, for she wouldn't like what she saw, but that Amarant himself had been waiting to meet her for a long time, and that he would do everything in his power to protect her…

"And so here I am…" He shrugged, feeling a little sheepish at sharing something so personal. It was the first time he had told that whole story to anyone.

"What did you do after that?"

"I waited until I was old enough to take my search out of Treno. I searched that city until I memorized every face, and still I never seemed to find her with the immigration filtering in from the war… I fanned out into the world, traveling, hoping to find her…"

"How did you end up as a soldier for Kuja?"

He thought for a moment as they shuffled along, realizing that Eiko had indeed been in that initial group caught and brought to the prison that him and Lani guarded together.

"He knew what I was seeking… He promised me that he would help me locate my half-sister if I worked for him. And so I did for years – and every year he would tell me to wait a little longer – that I didn't prove I was ready yet… And here I am, without that man in my life, but still with no half-sister."

Eiko was quiet for a moment. "I think I would like you as a brother," she decided quietly, as though she never meant for the redhead to hear her. His green-gold eyes bore down onto her, but she didn't seem to notice as she speculated.

Breaking from her trance, she glanced up at his form, smiling. "Once we win the war, you can finally go back to looking for her… And now you know all the right people to help you find her!" A bright smile flickered onto her face. "Who knows? Maybe you've already met her!"

He chuckled, realizing that, that would be just the irony – she being under his nose the whole time. He tried to remember the last time he hadn't met someone who wasn't a jail inmate, before finding the resistance.

He snorted.

"Not likely… but I like your spunk, kid." A smile drew his lips apart, the feeling foreign to him. "We're close to Cleyra now… prepare yourself for another pit-stop."

"Right!" She chimed to him with a big nod, her focus in the present once more.


To say she wasn't used to it would have been an understatement. Even the sound of her own feet brushing against a twig made her jump, but she scolded herself, telling her thoughts that she was just being silly.

Freya bounded silently into the night. The grass barely brushed her boots as she ran, a blur in the darkness. She reminded herself of the many nights she did missions alone – scouting, killing, infiltrating…

So why did it bother her so much now?

Her heart only came to one answer, and every time she thought about him and how she left things, her heart would ache uncontrollably and she would have to rest for a moment. Fratley hadn't said a thing to her after they had fought… and why would he? She had walked away, and didn't bother telling anyone but Dagger that she was leaving.

Did that make her a coward?

Absolutely…

But could she face Fratley and allow him to walk away?

No.

That's why she did it first. She couldn't watch the most important person in the world to her fade in the distance as they moved on as a team, the older Bermecian keeping his position in a war-ridden area.

Her lance was at the ready as she raced towards her home-city, her stomach twisting in protest. Whether it was anticipation for the coming doom of Bermecia's fate, or the horrible feeling she would never see Fratley again, she wasn't sure, but she was trying inconveniently hard to keep her cool as she ran forward.

There was still time – Cleyra was still visible in the distance – she could go back…

No. She told herself forcefully. She had done just fine without Fratley before, and she wasn't going to fall back into the same root of depending on him for survival and happiness. Freya would work her way through this alone – just how she always operated.

Part of her knew she was being childish, but more of her didn't care. This next part of their mission was her important part anyways, and the sooner she moved onto it and didn't fool around in Cleyra, the better it would be for all of them. It was an added bonus not being around when she was finally connected to her hoax of an aunt too.

Perhaps she could get such a head start in the City of Rain that they wouldn't have to spend an eternity there. She loved that city, and she enjoyed the rain… But Freya hadn't been one of the knights to see the destruction of the city – what if Kuja had taken over? Or what if mostly everything was in shambles?

She had to prepare herself for the worst, and if she was being completely honest with herself – she sort of missed their leafy forest hide out and the other people that dwelled there. Freya would be a bigger help in the long run if she could focus – and striking out on her own right now was the only thing that could allow her to do that.

The most important question was…

Was she making the right decision?


A/N: That was a surprisingly easy chapter to write. I didn't really plan to write any of that, besides the beginning… I never planned on doing a tidbit on Amarant's past, and well, his story was a little spur-of-the-moment, so now I just have to link it in with everything else. Should be a good time! I bet some of you could guess where I'm going with it!

I hope you enjoyed!

-zesty-