FFIX Fanfic: NAMESAKE

[Kuja]

Prelude: Around the campfire

The campfire sparked and crackled as Vivi Orunitia gently tossed another log onto it. The little black mage reached out towards the flames, letting them warm his hands. It was only early evening, but the sky was already darkening, and traveling through the Mist at night was dangerous. Of course, traveling through the Mist was always dangerous, but it was especially true after dusk. To Vivi's right, Zidane Tribal yawned, stretched, and brushed some of his blond hair out of his eyes, his furry tail twitching as he did so. "I wish the Dragon's Gate hadn't been sealed shut," he said. "We might've made better time."

"Doesn't matter. We'll reach Gizamaluke's Grotto before tomorrow night," the person sitting to Vivi's left answered. Freya Crescent had removed her hat and was absent-mindedly running her fingers through her hair while she stared into the flames. Like all Burmecians (or so Zidane had told him), Freya was tall, and seemed even taller because her physiology required that she walk on the balls of her feet. Her slender build belied the power in her muscles. Even now, her clawed feet were raking up the dirt beneath her soles. Vivi recalled asking her why she didn't wear shoes. In answer, she'd kicked out and driven four deep gouges into the trunk of a tree. "If I wore shoes," she'd said immediately after, "I'd tear them up within a day." Vivi had agreed wholeheartedly.

Freya's hand left her hair and moved down so that she could rest her elbow on her leg, then rest her chin on her hand. Her emerald eyes never left the fire. "All the same, I wish we could be in Burmecia now. I'm worried."

Zidane shrugged. "There's nothing we can do right now. We'll just have to hope they hold out against that army of...bad guys." As he finished the sentence, his eyes involuntarily flickered towards Vivi. Despite the heat from the fire, the little mage shivered. Zidane noticed. "Don't blame yourself, Vivi," he said. "You didn't have anything to do with it."

"I-I know," Vivi said. "But it scares me. Those black mages we saw on the cargo ship…they were so mindless. And then there was the Black Waltz, acting so ruthless...I...I'm scared that I'm..." he trailed off.

"Just like them?" Freya finished softly. Vivi nodded. She smiled slightly and reached out towards him. A gray-furred hand gently rested itself on Vivi's arm. "It'll be alright," she said reassuringly. "We'll be with you."

"Damn right," Zidane added.

"Why you all talk?" a new voice broke in. "Why you no eat? Good food!" All three of them turned to regard the fourth member of the group. Quina Quen held a massive, roasted slab of meat in his hands and had just taken a gargantuan bite. The meat had come from a giant lizard-like creature Zidane called a Serpion, which they had slain some hours ago. It was a good thing they had done so, too, because the bulky Qu ate more than the rest of them combined. Quina paused in between bites to unroll his huge, pink tongue and lick the meat, savoring the flavor. "See?" he said. "Good food!"

"We're finished, Quina," Zidane said, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"You finished? I have rest then?"

"Sure thing."

"Thanks!" Quina enthusiastically nodded his head, nearly losing his chef's hat in the process.

"You know, Quina's got a point," Vivi suddenly said.

"What? That we should eat more?" Zidane asked, confused.

"No way!" Quina broke in. "I get whole thing, remember?"

Vivi giggled. "That's not what I meant. I meant, let's quit talking about all this sad stuff. Let's talk about something good!"

Zidane grinned. "I'm up for it. Any suggestions?"

Vivi thought for a moment. "Well, when grandpa and I sometimes went out and had a fire, he'd tell me stories. Let's do that!"

Zidane looked unsure. "I dunno...I'm not very good at telling stories." He cracked a grin. "And anyway, they're all about burglary or girls."

"That's because you're a thief and a womanizer," Freya commented.

"Yeah, pretty much," he said with a wink.

"I tell story!" Quina said. Vivi noticed that he had finished the massive hunk of meat and was reaching for a second. "I tell good story!"

"What the heck. Let's hear it," Zidane said.

"One day, I walking along marsh path back home when I notice frog. Frog not green like other frogs. Frog golden. I say to myself 'frog strange. Taste good, maybe?'" Everyone grinned. They all knew Quina loved eating frogs. In fact, they'd met him while he was trying to catch a frog back in his home marsh. Zidane had grabbed the unlucky amphibian and presented it to Quina, who had promptly invited himself along on their journey. "Frog not notice me looking at it," Quina continued. "So I decide to catch. I crouch, then leap and grab frog! But frog slippery, and get away. So I chase frog through marsh until I very tired. I not watching where I going, and I trip and fall. Frog jump on head and do froggy laugh. Then hop away. I see frog time to time. Always chase, never catch. Frog too fast for me. I always say, 'maybe I get stronger and catch it later,' but I never do." Quina fell silent and took another huge bite. "Is why I came with you, Zidane. You catch frogs good. I learn how to catch frogs from you."

"I guess if that motives you," Zidane said with a shrug.

"You like story?" Quina asked Vivi.

"Uh-huh. I hope you catch the frog someday," Vivi said.

"I too."

"With that attitude," Freya said, "I'm sure you will."

There was a short silence, and Zidane said "Why don't you give us a story, Vivi?"

Vivi reached up to his hat and adjusted it, something that always helped to calm his nerves. "Well…I only know the stories grandpa told me, but I'll do my best."

He stood. "Once, there was a man who didn't like his name. He wanted a new name, because everyone else had one that they liked. So he decided to go and find a good name. He traveled the world, looking everywhere for a name that would suit him, but he never found one. He said to himself, 'if I just try harder, I know I can find a good name.' So he kept on looking. And finally, he found a name that suited him perfectly. So he came home with it, looking forward to telling everyone about his new name. But when he got home, nobody recognized him with his new name. But when he greeted them using his old name, they all welcomed him with open arms. So, he thought about it, and he decided that he really did like his old name. So he decided to keep it. And when he died, everyone said that his name was the nicest name they'd ever heard."

Vivi sat back down again. "That's a nice story," Zidane said softly.

Vivi nodded. "Yeah. It's one of my favorites. Grandpa used to tell it to me all the time."

"Is good story. Story make you feel happy inside," Quina said, reaching for yet another piece of meat.

"Thanks, Quina!" Vivi said brightly.

There was a long silence. "Didn't you like it, Freya?" Zidane asked.

"Yes," she said softly.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded. "I was just thinking about something."

"Your boyfriend?"

She rolled her eyes. "No. Something else. A tale my mother told me. Vivi's story about names made me think of it."

"So tell us."

She hesitated. "It's a long story."

"Is good story?" Quina asked. She nodded, and Quina thought for a moment. "I want hear story."

Zidane looked intrigued. "So, where'd your mother hear this story?"

"It's not a story my mother was told," Freya said. "It's a story about my mother." She hesitated again. "A story about my mother, and the person she named me after."

Zidane sat upright. "Now I really want to hear it."

Vivi nodded. "Me too."

"Alright then." Freya pulled herself closer to the fire. She brought her legs in so that the soles of her feet touched, rested her hands on her knees, and closed her eyes as though she were meditating. Softly, she began to sing. The words didn't make sense to Vivi, but the song sounded nice. Quina turned to Zidane and said softly, "Is song, not story." Zidane hushed him.

After several minutes, Freya finished her song and opened her eyes. Then, she began to tell her story. It was a story about friendship. Honesty. Courage. Honor. Love. A cocky young Dragon Knight named Daren. Freya's mother, Serena Crescent. A beast called the Ironite. And it was a story about Freya's namesake, a man earnest in thought and speech, who was fierce in battle, but always kind to those around him. He was a man divorced from his home in Alexandria, who had wandered the world for years. His name was Frey Amethyst.

[LT.Hit-Man]

Even though I have no idea what ff 9's about I like this fic
Well done.

[Jadeite]

Vivi! I like.

[SHODAN]

Cute. It does not feel unlike FFIX, either. Awaiting chapter 1.

[Shroom Man 777]

This is good! Well written and more balanced than most other FF9 fics I've read. I've read a few, most were dumb, trying to be humorous but in sad ways. This is good, balanced and well writte- oops, being repetitive... Keep it up.

[Soontir C'boath]

Great job. Can I assume you're writing this for the in-between sections of the game story?~Jason

[Kuja]

Great job. Can I assume you're writing this for the in-between sections of the game story?~Jason

It's intended to give background on certain FF9 characters who I thought got a little cheated in the storyline department.

[Ghost Rider]

Great job. Can I assume you're writing this for the in-between sections of the game story?~Jason

It's intended to give background on certain FF9 characters who I thought got a little cheated in the storyline department.

Meaning virtually everyone ?

Still nice start...you got the four of them pretty much down pat.

[Captain Cyran]

Great job. Can I assume you're writing this for the in-between sections of the game story?~Jason

It's intended to give background on certain FF9 characters who I thought got a little cheated in the storyline department.

You mean like. *Takes a deep breath so as he can say all the names, then lets it out figuring it's not worth the wasted effort.*

Yeah, everyone...To be honest with you Kuj, I didn't like FF9 one bit, so you'll be hard pressed to get me to really like it, but you seem to have done an alright job so far.

[Singular Quartet]

Actually, only Freya and Rusty got cheated in the background department.

Zidane gets most of Terra to himself, Dagger and Eiko got Madain Sari and Bran Bal to them, Amarant got a little bit of the third visit to Treno and a few bits elsewhere to himself, Vivi get's the first (or is it second?) visit to Treno, and Quina, well, quina needs diddly-shit background information. (I get born, I eat things.)

That's the main characters. Larger portions of backstory get taken from how things happen and minor extrapolations...

[Shroom Man 777]

Actually, only Freya and Rusty got cheated in the background department.

Zidane gets most of Terra to himself, Dagger and Eiko got Madain Sari and Bran Bal to them, Amarant got a little bit of the third visit to Treno and a few bits elsewhere to himself, Vivi get's the first (or is it second?) visit to Treno, and Quina, well, quina needs diddly-shit background information. (I get born, I eat things.)

That's the main characters. Larger portions of backstory get taken from how things happen and minor extrapolations...

Uhh.... what about if you compare them to the other FFs? I haven't played other FFs (except nine), only after the first mision of FF8, so I know shit of their character development. Is their char dev better than FF9?

[Singular Quartet]

Actually, only Freya and Rusty got cheated in the background department.

Zidane gets most of Terra to himself, Dagger and Eiko got Madain Sari and Bran Bal to them, Amarant got a little bit of the third visit to Treno and a few bits elsewhere to himself, Vivi get's the first (or is it second?) visit to Treno, and Quina, well, quina needs diddly-shit background information. (I get born, I eat things.)

That's the main characters. Larger portions of backstory get taken from how things happen and minor extrapolations...

Uhh.... what about if you compare them to the other FFs? I haven't played other FFs (except nine), only after the first mision of FF8, so I know shit of their character development. Is their char dev better than FF9?

Well.. it ranges. FF1 and FF3 had practically no character development (understandable) I haven't really played 4, 5, or 6, and I'll be playing 2 soon enough. In 7, they actually do go into quite a bit, revealing character connections in Dickension proportions, and there's quite a bit. FF 8... I haven't played it ina few years, so I can't really say. FF 10... they do cover some of it, but not really as in depth as other games. So, I suppose I can't really say. I mean, some chatacters get little to no (Rusty, Freya, Quina, and, to some point, Amarant) but other characters get loads (Zidane, Dagger, Vivi, and, to a point, Eiko) so it's kinda mixed.

[Kuja]

NAMESAKE

Chapter 1: Do you remember loving me?

Frey scrambled to get to his feet as the beast's roar filled his ears. His hand went to his forehead and came away bloody. "Figures," he grumbled. He turned to check the Zaghnol's position, only to find that the massive creature was nearly on top of him. He dove sideways, and the charging monster blew by him, its huge tusks coming within inches of impaling Frey. The orange-furred beast skidded to a stop, its flank towards Frey. Maddened red eyes locked onto his own blue ones. The Zaghnol bellowed a second time and began to charge again. Frey bolted in the opposite direction, the huge creature's thundering steps following him. Blinking blood out of his left eye, Frey groped for his sword handle, found it, and pulled, only to have it jerk and refuse to come out of the sheath. With a curse, Frey realized that the hilt had somehow slipped under his belt and was now stuck there. The Zaghnol bellowed again, and Frey leaped to one side, coming down in an awkward shoulder roll. This time, he felt a tusk brush his leg. Oh, man!

Coming to a stop on one knee, Frey fiddled with the sword handle and finally freed it. With a ring of steel on steel, he drew the sword and held it out to his side, the blade pointing away from him. Meanwhile, his opponent had again skidded to a stop and was now stamping its feet and snorting like an angry bull, which was pretty close to the truth. Without taking his eyes off the massive beast, Frey used his free hand-his right-to wipe some of the blood off his face. "Anytime you're ready, Serena," he mumbled under his breath.

As if on cue, Frey's traveling companion seemed to drop from the sky, coming down on the Zaghnol's back. The already maddened beast roared in surprise and pain as her clawed feet dug into its back. It began to buck wildly, trying to throw its unwanted rider, but Serena swayed back and forth, her balance so secure that she didn't even need to grip its hair to hold on. Instead, she gripped her three-pronged spear and drove it into the Zaghnol's back. It snarled, but continued to try and shake her off. Frey saw his chance. He got to his feet and sprinted towards the massive creature. As he did so, he narrowed his eyes and concentrated, charging up an attack to finish the battle.

"Serena! Get clear!" he shouted. She heard him, braced herself, and leaped, using her strong legs to propel herself high into the air. Freed from its annoying passenger, the Zaghnol turned to see Frey running straight for it. The beast lowered its head, stomped once or twice, and prepared to charge again. Frey ignored its posturing, instead concentrating on the buildup of energy in his left hand. As his power reached its peak, tendrils of electricity began to appear around the sword's hilt. The tendrils became sparks, and the sparks became bolts as Frey let out a roar to match the Zaghnol's own. As the two came together, the beast reared up on its hind legs in an attempt to crush him, but Frey leaped, drew his sword back, and slashed it forward across the monster's throat. There was a flash of lightning and a bang of thunder as the Thunder Slash attack pumped a massive dose of electricity into his prey. The creature's body went haywire, twitching spasmodically as all of its nerves fired at once. With a whimper, the beast collapsed, purple blood gushing from its throat.

Frey slid his sword back into its sheath and surveyed his work. Footsteps prompted him to turn and plaster a victorious smile on his face. "Piece of cake, huh Serena?"

The red-clad Burmecian rubbed her brown-furred muzzle as though she were confused. "But who was it that I saw stumbling all over the place and running around like a mouse that picked a fight with a cat?"

"I have no idea," he said with a chuckle. As his adrenaline rush faded, Frey felt his temple throbbing and remembered his injury. "Aw, damn-"

"Sit," she said, cutting him off. Frey knew better than to argue, and dropped to the ground while Serena opened a small pouch and fished around inside it. "Sometimes I can't believe you," she said.

"What? Why?"

"Here you are, fighting one of the most dangerous monsters on the continent, and the only injury you get is when you trip over your own feet and gash your head on a rock. You're such a clumsy dope."

"You forgot handsome."

"It was never there to begin with," she said with a teasing grin. Finally she retrieved the vial she'd been looking for and let a few drops fall onto the smooth back of one claw. Replacing the vial, she knelt down and reached out. "Hold still."

"Yes, mother."

She sighed irritably and waited for him to shut up. He did, but his grin didn't fade. Serena gently rubbed the potion into the cut. Frey hissed slightly at the sting, but it passed quickly as the injury closed up. Besides, there were more important things to think about. Things like the way Serena's Dragon Knight uniform fell away as she bent over, revealing quite a bit of...she noticed him noticing. "Don't look down my shirt, you pig!" she snapped.

"Whoops, sorry." Frey couldn't stop the grin the threatened to crawl onto his face.

"Uh-huh." She huffed angrily and stood. "Sometimes, you really make me wonder why I haven't killed you yet. I must be getting soft." She exhaled and stretched.

"Okay, I apologize, really," he said, killing the smile as he got to his feet. "Now, let's get what we came for, before this beastie's mate comes calling." Frey drew his sword and started over towards the massive corpse.


The sun slowly dropped below the horizon as the two wanderers made camp. Frey shivered slightly and grimaced, knowing that the coming night would be a cold one. On the other hand, he had a spectacular view in nearly every direction. To the north was an expanse of Mist that covered the valley separating Lindblum from the rest of Mist Continent. To the south was the ocean, the waves glittering in the dying sun. To the west was Lindblum itself, the mighty walled city shooting up from the land around it. And to the east, where they had come from, were the crags, streams, and green growth of the Pinnacle Rocks. None of which is going to help a damn, he thought with another shiver.


The fire crackled while Serena carefully examined one of the Zaghnol's tusks. Taking a small knife, she made an incision near the tip, then allowed some of the blue-gray liquid inside to drip out into a cup. Once the hole was sealed and the tusk replaced atop the small pile, Serena pulled out a vial of reddish liquid and poured a bit of it into the cup holding the tusk's fluid. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the concoction began to change colors, slowly turning a dark green. Serena allowed a triumphant smile to tug at the corners of her mouth.

"What's the story?" Frey asked as he strode back.

"They're perfect," she said. "The alchemists will pay good money for these."

"How much is good?" he asked.

She considered. "A few thousand, at least."

Frey blinked. "Lemme see." She handed him the cup and he took a sip. Almost immediately, his face flushed a deep shade of red. "That’s...pretty...strong," he said, his voice strained.

Serena gave a long-suffering sigh and shook her head. "Of course it is. It isn't watered down. You can't make Antidotes out of the pure ingredients. I thought you knew that."

"Oh." he said. His face was still red, but the tightness in his voice had gone away.

She held out her canteen. "Here, drink some water. It'll help." He took the canteen and took three long pulls. When he'd finished, his face had returned to normal color.

"Thanks," he said. As Frey handed back the canteen, she noticed him shiver. "Jeez, it's getting cold out. I think I'll make some coffee." He circled around her towards their packs. As he did so, he let his hand drop down to rest on her shoulder. She nearly jumped as he did so. "Want some?" he asked quietly.

"No thanks."

He hesitated. "You sure?"

She bit her lip. "Yes." His hand lingered for a moment more, then slipped away, leaving Serena a knot of confused emotions.

She watched as he made his coffee, slowly brewing it over the fire and occasionally tossing another log on to make sure that it was hot enough. When he was finally finished, he poured himself a cup and took a long sip. She knew that it was to his satisfaction when he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Despite herself, she couldn't help watching him, her companion and friend of so many years. Suddenly, she realized that she needed to talk to Frey. Now. She chewed at her lip, unsure of what to say.

"Serena?" he asked softly, shocking her out of her reverie.

"Huh?"

"Is something wrong? You look...nervous." He wore an expression of concern.

"Frey," she said, and then immediately clammed up.

"Yes?"

"I...I need to talk to you."

"What about?" he said evenly.

She hesitated for a moment. The moment turned into moments, then into seconds that seemed to last for days as Serena tried to organize her thoughts. Frey sat silently, not pressing her, and she was thankful for that. "How long have we been traveling together?" she finally said.

He considered. "Well, let's see. We met the day after the Festival of the Hunt in Lindblum, so that would make it..." he thought for a minute, mouth moving silently. "Almost five years ago."

Five years, she thought. Nearly five years she'd spent with this man. "And we've been friends pretty much since then, right?"

He nodded. "I'd like to think so," he said seriously.

"And we've always been honest with each other, right?"

He nodded a bit more slowly this time, aware that she was building up to something. "Yes."

She wrung her left hand with her right for a moment, refusing to meet his gaze. "Frey, I need to ask you something. Something very serious. And I want you to be totally honest with me."

"I promise."

The silence between them seemed about to swallow them whole. Finally, Serena burst. "Frey, I've noticed lately, that you're acting...different. As if you want there to be something more between us. As if you like me more than a friend, a very good friend." She took a deep breath and finally met his eyes. "Frey...do you want us to be more than friends?"

Frey sat back, his face troubled. He licked his lips, opened his mouth, closed it again, looked at the sky, looked at the ground, looked at the fire, and finally, looked at the cup of coffee he held in both hands. He stared into the brown liquid for a long time, saying nothing. Serena held her tongue, determined to give him the same courtesy he'd shown her only minutes before. Finally, he said softly, "Serena, do you remember how we met?"

She smiled wanly. "How could I forget?"

He laughed softly. "It was certainly a memorable occurrence." An image swam to the surface of Serena's mind, that of a smoky bar full of human patrons. Rather than slamming off the memory, she left it play.


It had been shortly after she'd left Burmecia. Perhaps only a month or two, certainly less than a year. Her loneliness, combined with the prejudice she'd experienced from certain humans who hated the "filthy rats" that were her people, and topped off with other recent events, had left her snappish, quick to anger and distrust. That night, she'd been sitting in the darkest corner she could find, sipping her drink and glaring at anyone who met her eyes. That was when a handsome young man had walked up to her table, pulled out a chair, and dropped into it. For a long moment, neither of them said anything.

"Back off," she finally hissed.

The much younger Frey had seemed oblivious to her hostility. "How would you like to make some money?" he asked, running a hand through his chestnut-colored hair.

"I said back off," she repeated.

"Two thousand each, easy. It involves slaying a creature that's been terrorizing the farms around Lindblum recently," he said, taking a sip of his drink, his eyes locked to hers.

"I'm not interested," she said harshly.

"Really?" he said, raising his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you wearing the uniform of a Burmecian Dragon Knight? I thought you people were interested in going on adventures, proving your endurance, and such. Was I wrong?"

His remark had so infuriated her, she'd lashed out under the table, kicking him in the gut and knocking him to the floor. Her claws had easily sliced through his clothes and skin, and now blood flowed from the four deep gashes in his stomach. As he groaned and attempted to staunch the flow of blood, she'd realized what a horrible mistake she'd made. Scrambling to her feet, she'd knelt beside him as other bar patrons began turning to see what the ruckus was all about. Whispering a frantic apology, she'd clumsily fished a pair of Potions out of her small bag and dumped their entire contents onto his injury. Then she'd pulled him to his feet and dragged him out of the bar as quickly as she could, leaving behind a stack of gil to pay for their drinks.

The medicine had done its work, but something had gone wrong. Perhaps the Potions had not been correctly made, or some kind of bacteria had interfered with their work, but although the gashes had closed, they had left four terrible scars on the right side of Frey's stomach. He'd carried them ever since. "You Burmecians certainly have a strange way of introducing yourselves," he'd said some minutes later, examining the four lines.

"Please, forgive me," she said with a shaky bow. "I didn't mean to...I mean, I didn't intend-"

"Quiet." He said it lightly, but she still clammed up and stood there nervously. Then, he'd dropped his shirt and looked up, his eyes seeming to lock hers to them. "What's your name?"

"I'm Serena. Serena Crescent," she'd said with a traditional curtsey.

"My name's Frey Amethyst." He'd offered her his hand, and she had quickly taken it. "Tell me, how long have you lived here?"

"Well, I, a couple months," she'd admitted.

"So you haven't spent much time around humans."

"Well, no."

His features softened. "Have you been insulted?" She hesitated, then nodded. "Called names?" She'd nodded again. "You've seen people who hated you, for no reason other than who you are." She'd nodded a third time, tears threatening to flow. "So have I."

"But you're not Burmecian," she'd blurted.

He took no offense. "You're right. I'm Alexandrian."

"But you're still human. Why would people here hate you?"

"They don't, at least, not anymore. "But when I came to Lindblum for the first time, I was thrown around a lot too. I guess the people of Lindblum won't ever forget that my homeland's started over a dozen wars between the two of them over the centuries. They don't trust my people, and they didn't learn to trust me for quite some time. Some never did. I had to learn to toughen up, to take the things people threw at me, both verbally and physically. I've seen the worst mankind has to offer, just like you." He'd fallen silent, allowing his words to sink in. "So, are you interested in my proposal?"

"What? I mean, yes, of course I am. If it's acceptable, of course."

"Good. Come with me, Serena Crescent. You've seen the worst of humanity. Now it's time for you to see the best."


Frey had certainly followed through. They'd become fast friends, going on adventure after adventure together. They'd traveled all over Mist Continent, visiting every city, every town, every nook and cranny, save one. They'd never gone to Burmecia together. Frey had suggested it once, and Serena had quickly turned down the possibility. Frey had shrugged and never brought it up again.


Now, her eyes were fixed on her friend as he stared into his cup of coffee. "So, what's your point?" she asked gently.

"Well, after that, I decided to watch and wait. I wanted to be a mentor to you, to teach you to how live with humans. I wanted to see if my race would accept you, as well. And you both succeeded. After that, I was content to be your friend for a long time." He took a deep breath. "But recently, I caught myself viewing you in a whole different light. I don't know how it happened, but I stopped seeing you as Serena, a good friend to travel with and a good person to have at your back when things got tough. I started seeing you as Serena, a woman who, while very different from me in some respects, held many of the traits that I admired in a woman. Honesty, toughness, intelligence and so much else." There was a long silence. "So I guess that the answer to your question is yes, Serena, I do want you to be more than a friend."

She sighed deeply. She'd hoped that she'd been wrong, that she'd misinterpreted his actions. But she'd been right. And what she was about to do would probably be very painful, for both of them. "Frey," she said softly. "We can't."

He blinked, and then swallowed with some difficulty. "Why not?" he asked. His voice was still even, but she could tell that he was putting serious effort into keeping it that way.

"A few reasons. You are aware that humans and Burmecians can't have children together, right?"

He nodded solemnly. "Yes. I knew that."

"That's one thing. That's the biological reason. Then there's others."

"Are you afraid that a couple like us would be ostracized? Shut out?"

She nodded. "A bit, I suppose, but that's not what I was referring to." She closed her eyes and steeled herself for what was coming. "Frey, I never told you why I left Burmecia, did I?" He shook his head. "I'd been made a Dragon Knight about two years earlier, and I met someone, another Dragon Knight. He was cocky, tough, handsome, and very good at what he did. A lot like you, I guess." He smiled, but offered no comment, instead simply gesturing for her to continue. "Well, he and I grew close. There was a natural chemistry, I guess. People, especially my family, thought we would make a good pair." She swallowed. "Then one day, he asked me to marry him."

After another prolonged silence, Frey prompted, "and?"

She looked at him bleakly. "I wasn't ready, Frey. I wasn't ready to settle down and have a family. I'd always had dreams about seeing the world, and I hadn't done it."

"So you left Burmecia," he said gently.

She nodded and looked at the ground. "Two days later. He was very understanding, and he even walked with me to the city gates. That was where I made a promise. A promise that no matter how long or far I traveled, I would remember him, and when I finally returned to Burmecia, it would be to stay."

Frey nodded. "I see."

She shook her head. "That night in the bar…the real reason I wanted you to leave me alone was that I'd decided to go back. I'd had enough of the outside world. I'd decided that if it were going to use me as a target for its hatred, I certainly wasn't going to sit there and take it." She finally felt a tear trickle down her face as she met his eyes. "And then you came into my life. You made everything seem so much easier to bear. And I knew that if I'd turned you down that night, I never would have found the beautiful world I left home for. You made a dream come true, Frey."

Frey blushed and looked away. "Aw, 's nothing," she thought she heard him mutter.

She reached out to take his hand in hers. "And for a while," she continued, "I fell in love with you. I was ready to leave my old life behind and just travel with you forever. But then I remembered my promise. And I knew that for better or worse, I was going to stick to that promise." He remained silent, simply looking at their joined hands. "Frey," she said.

"Hmm?"

"What are you thinking?"

He grinned. "I'm thinking your man's a lucky guy."

She released his hand and lightly punched him in the shoulder. "Be serious, will you?"

His grin faded. "I am being serious. I'll admit, I'm less than thrilled to find out that I never even had a chance, but that doesn't diminish our friendship." He sat back and crossed his arms. "I'll tell you what," he said, his tone light. "I'm not going to kill my feelings for you-I doubt I can-but I'm not going to force a relationship that doesn't exist." He returned her friendly punch. "How does that sound?"

She slowly shook her head. "How do you do it?"

"Huh? Do what?"

"Just like with the Zaghnol. Even when you screw up and fall flat on your face, you always manage to bounce back and deliver the winning blow."

He winked. "Guess I'm just lucky." He reached to pick up his coffee. "Okay, I think it's time to get some shut-eye, otherwise we'll never get to Lindblum in time for the Festival. I'll stand the first watch."

Serena stood and nodded. "All right. See you in a few." But instead of walking over to where her sleeping bag lay, Serena bent and cupped Frey's chin, guiding him to look up at her. Then, before he had a chance to speak, he felt a spot of warmth on his cheek as Serena's muzzle gently brushed his skin, then quickly withdrew. "Thank you Frey," she whispered in his ear. Then she was gone.

Frey's hand almost unconsciously came up to touch his cheek, and he stared straight ahead, as though dazed. She kissed me, he suddenly thought. Serena...kissed me. Serena KISSED me. SERENA KISSED ME! Frey smiled, and suddenly, the air around him didn't feel so cold.

[Captain Cyran]

First post! Time to read.

EDIT: Very good chapter, liked the story that you've made. Very interesting.

[Shroom Man 777]

OMFG!!! FUCKING GREAT MAN!!!! Even if it was a rat x human, it was still nice! Good good! Fantastic! Make more!!!!! This is great! Keep it up! But whatever you do.... no Quina romance stories hehe

[Kuja]

Chapter 2: The past always comes back


The next morning dawned bright, misty, and cold. Dew spotted the grass, as well as the long-cold ashes of the campfire. Nearby, a sleeping bag sat up with a grunt. The bag trembled somewhat, then shook. From inside, a voice could faintly be heard cursing. The bag then violently twisted left, right, and flung itself down to the grass. This time, a "yeowch!" could be clearly heard. The bag began to flop about like a fish out of water as its occupant vainly attempted to get the confining zipper unstuck. Finally, it moved a few inches and a hand shot out into the sun. The hand searched for something that could help unstick the zipper, but to no avail.

"OK buddy, think," Frey told himself. "There's gotta be a way to do this. Maybe if I stand up-" But Frey was in such an awkward position, the moment he gained his feet he lost his balance and went tumbling down the hillside by the camp. Fortunately, the hill was all soft grass and no rocks. Unfortunately, it ended in a drop of several feet that dumped Frey into a steam. Now, the rather comic aspect of the situation disappeared as the bag absorbed the water and began to sink. Frey very nearly panicked, but somehow managed to keep his brain running. He reached for his sword, then remembered he had taken it off before going to sleep. Once he realized that he had nothing with which he could cut through the rapidly sinking bag, Frey decided to stretch out and try and stand on the bottom of the stream. The idea backfired when his foot struck a rock and sent him tumbling. He attempted to regain his bearings, but the constricting bag, the lack of light, and the cold water prevented him.

Frey had just decided that panicking might not be such a bad idea after all when he suddenly felt himself being yanked from the water and roughly deposited on solid ground. Serena's claws tore through the bag, admitting some light and fresh air. "Hey, are you all right?" she said. Frey responded by shoving her face out of the way and wrestling his torso out of the bag. As soon as that was done, he bent to one side and threw up all the water that he'd swallowed. Serena's hand remained on his shoulder, steadying him.

"Thanks," he finally rasped out when he was done.

"You're lucky I heard you splashing. Otherwise-"

"Let's not go there." Still shaking, Frey crawled out of the remains of his sleeping bag and sprawled across the grass, breathing deeply. "So when did you wake up?" he asked.

"I stood the last watch, remember? I figured I'd take a bath before I woke you up."

"Oh." As soon as he finished speaking, Frey's brain registered the words. He scrambled to sit up, but Serena had already slipped back into the water. She turned an indulgent smile on him.

"Sorry, hon. You'll have to be quicker than that," she commented. Frey let himself fall back to the grass, chuckling. His chuckles slowly gave way to clear, honest laughter that seemed to rise with the morning sun.


Twenty minutes later, Frey wasn't laughing. "It's ruined," he growled as he inspected the gouges in the sleeping bag. "I'll have to buy a new one when we get to Lindblum." He dropped the bag and stood. "Ready?"

Serena draped her spear over one shoulder. "Let's go."


Their hike across Lindblum Plateau went uninterrupted, allowing both of them to enjoy the day. Frey found a good-sized stick and began swinging it at his side. Serena noticed the look on his face and winced, knowing that he was about to launch off into one of his off-key ballads. "Frey," she said.

"That's m'name."

"I was thinking."

"Really?"

"Cut it out. Seriously, I was thinking about last night."

Frey stopped swinging the impromptu walking stick and simply held it. "Yeah?"

"Since I finally told you why I left Burmecia, I was wondering if you'd return the favor."

"What, you mean why I left Alexandria?" She nodded. "Well, okay, but I'm afraid there's not much to tell." A bad taste began to rise in the back of Frey's mouth, but he ignored it. "My family was middle-of-the-road. We weren't nobles, but we weren't street trash either." Serena nodded, and Frey felt an invisible hand take hold of his heart and begin to squeeze. "Anyway, I was apprenticed to a synthesist. I worked under him for a couple years, and in my spare time, I either played with friends or fooled around with one of the swords I made." He smiled, and the squeezing sensation got worse. "I had this dream of becoming a wandering knight and making a real name for myself."

"So what happened?"

Frey felt tears well up, but he forced them down. "Well, one day, I decided that the best way to become a knight wasn't slaving away in the synthesis shop of some boring city day after day." The tension in his chest was now so bad, Frey felt as though his heart would snap. "So I forged up an iron sword-" he patted the hilt of his weapon "-grabbed my share of the gil, and took off."

"And then?"

Frey wanted to scream at her, to get her to leave him the hell alone, but remained calm. "I hooked up with a caravan heading for Treno. One of the men traveling with the caravan taught me how to use the sword, and I did a little self-teaching along the way." He paused, wishing he could simply fall over and die. "Then, one day, I met this crazy lady who kicked me in the gut-"

"Shut up!" she said, lightly backhanding him. Frey laughed with her, wishing her felt as good as that laugh suggested. "So that's it?"

"Yep. That's it. Sorry it’s not as dramatic as your tale." Frey resumed swinging the stick and began whistling a cheerful tune. He didn't trust himself to sing. He felt low. Lower than dirt. Lower than slime. He wanted to cry. To scream. To howl until he had no voice left. He wanted to snap his walking stick in two over his knee. He wanted to beat Serena to within an inch of her miserable life. He wanted to kill a thousand monsters before turning his blade on himself. He had lied. He had lied and put a cheerful face on it. And he had lied to the one person he respected more than any other. He had lied to the one person he'd ever truly trusted and cared for. Frey's hand tightened on the stick as he sought a way to bleed out all of his anger. He felt like he was going to explode.

The whole time Frey was berating himself, he never noticed Serena watching him out of the corner of her eye.


At about noon, they passed the rocky foot of Veldt Peak, the small mountain that stood between Lindblum and the Pinnacle Rocks. Now, they could make a beeline for the city itself. They came to a small stream running down the side of the mountain and decided to take a break. As Serena filled her canteen, Frey suddenly took a deep breath. "Be back in a minute," he announced.

"Sure thing," she said, her voice betraying nothing. Frey disappeared behind a small outcropping. One minute turned into five. Then ten. Then fifteen. Serena quietly scaled the small barrier and looked down at her companion. Frey's sword lay on the ground beside him, but he wasn't looking at it. In fact, he wasn't looking at anything. Frey squatted by the water, his face in his hands, weeping silently. Serena came up behind him and gently laid her hands on his shoulders. He didn't react. "Frey," she said gently. "You lied to me."

"Yes," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Why did you lie to me, Frey?" He remained silent. "Frey, we've been together five years. You can tell me anything. I promise I'll keep it secret, if that's what you want."

"No," he said. She opened her mouth to reassure him, but he kept going. "No, no, no, no," he kept saying, more and more softly as he kept going.

Serena sat down and gently pulled him back to lean against her. "Tell me, Frey," she whispered in his ear. "Tell me why you left Alexandria."

"I can't tell you, Serena. Not even you."

His voice made her heart ache. She wanted to cry with him, but she steeled herself. Frey had to face whatever demon was inside him, whatever it took. "Frey," she said more firmly, "tell me everything." He broke down and did.


"Pathetic excuse for a useless good-for-nothing!" he bellowed. "I ought to've bashed your skull in!" He swayed drunkenly, but kept his feet. "Going to see a play when we've got work to do!"

"But Master Gareth," the boy said timidly, "you said I could-"

"I said no such thing!" he yelled. "And even if I did, I don't care! Now see to the fire!" He cuffed the boy just below the ear and sent him sprawling. The boy didn't cry much; he was used to being knocked down. "Faster!" Gareth thundered as the boy began to work the coals at the base of the flame.

Something in the boy's posture seemed to snap. "Stop yelling at me!" he cried out.

"I'll stop yelling when you get something done right! Three years, and you still haven't earned your own keep!"

"That's because you keep taking my pay!"

"Quiet! I'll not be baited by the likes of you!" Gareth blinked as his ale-watered eyes focused on a sight he'd never seen. Little Frey had pulled a sword from the rack and was holding it in both hands. The boy gritted his teeth.

"I'll kill you," he said. His voice cracked and wavered, but from the look in his eyes, Gareth knew he would do it. Something about that fact made Gareth very angry.

"How dare you threaten your master!" he hollered, stomping forward. "Put that sword down! I'm going to give you the beating of your life for this out-" at that point, Gareth watched with detached interest as Frey quailed, then shut his eyes tightly and thrust the sword in between his master's ribs. Gareth felt his body begin to collapse, but his only feeling was one of pride. "That sword was damn well made," he said silently. "I do good work." A note of doubt entered his mind as blackness claimed him. "Or did Frey make that one?"


Memorial Square was deserted. Everyone had closed up and headed off to see the play, leaving Cara and Ronda alone at the gate. The two women didn't really care. As soldiers of Alexandria, it was their duty to ensure the safety of their people, and if that meant guarding a deserted square, so be it. All the same, Cara thought, I wish there was someone left to watch. In her boredom, the blonde woman began lightly tapping one gauntleted hand against her leg. Ronda noticed. "Are we having fun yet?" she whispered. Both exchanged a smile.

Heavy footsteps announced the hunter's return to the city. He was a big man, loaded down with various weapons, tools, and other such things. "Evening miss, miss," he said courteously. Both women nodded as he trudged on through. As he reached the other side of the square, they heard him shout, "Hey, watch out!" just before a kid less than half his size burst into the square and knocked him over. Eager for something to break up the monotony, both of the soldiers started heading over, ready to help if need be. Without warning, the kid suddenly took off again, rushing headlong towards the gate. Cara and Ronda moved to stop him, but he was too quick! He ducked between them and continued towards the gate. Ronda made a dive for him, but his greasy shirt slipped through her grasp just as her hand closed on it.

Cara was beside her partner in an instant. "Stay here," she said. "I'll catch him." Another moment, and she was up and sprinting after the kid. He was fast, that was for certain, but Cara was an Alexandrian soldier, her body trained and toughened. She knew she could outrun him. She poured on the speed and nearly had him when, by sheer bad luck, her foot hit a loose stone. She stumbled and the kid shot away. Cursing under her breath, Cara scrambled to her feet and started running again.

Their chase took them far outside the city, dangerously close to the steep drop into the Mist. If Cara chose to look down, she could see the Mist itself, swirling above the Gunitas Basin. Finally, she managed to corner the kid between a high rock wall and the drop. As she slowed to a walk, she saw him look frantically for a way out, but there was none. When he realized this, he turned to face Cara and reached up to the sword that was recklessly strapped to his back. "Don't come any closer," he said, voice wavering.

Cara held both hands out in a nonthreatening pose and smiled. "I'm not going to hurt you, sweetie. I've just gotta bring you back home. A kid like you shouldn't be out here alone. It's dangerous."

"So?"

"So if you get hurt, it'll be my fault." She winked and whispered conspiratorially, "I'd get in trouble." The kid hesitated, then slowly smiled back. Cara pulled off one gauntlet and held her hand out to the kid. "I'm Cara," she said. "What's your name?"

"I'm Frey." The kid finally took his hand off the sword and reached out to take hers.

"That's a pretty name," she said. "Come on, Frey. I'll take you back home and-" a howl suddenly cut her off. A Fang, she realized. And it was close by. The creature howled again. A second howl joined it. Then, there was a third. This was getting bad, quickly.

Frey had heard the howls as well. "What was that?" he asked. Cara didn't answer. Instead, she looked around until she spied what she wanted. Then, in one fluid motion, she grabbed Frey, lifted him off the ground, and set him down atop a small outcropping in the wall, high enough that a Fang wouldn't be able to get to him.

"Hey, what-"

"Shh," she said, cutting him off. "Kiddo, I want you to stay there until I say you can come down, okay? " He nodded. Working her gauntlet back on, Cara turned towards the entrance of the dead end and realized that she could already see the pack loping towards her. She drew her sword and braced herself.


"Hey, do you hear that?" Cairn asked.

"Hear what?" Dock answered as he took a swig of wine. The two men had walked out ahead of the small wagon train and were enjoying the day.

"It sounds like someone crying," Cairn said. Dock frowned, lowered the hood of his brown cloak, and listened for a few moments.

"Sounds like it's coming from the Mist," he finally said.

"Want to check it out?"

The other shrugged. "Don't see why not. The others got the wagons covered." With Cairn's armor clinking, the two men ambled over towards the source of the sound.

"I think it's coming from over here," Cairn said as they reached a small gap between the drop into the Mist and a natural rock wall. "Maybe-" but whatever Cairn was about to say was lost forever as they rounded the bend and surveyed the sight beyond.

"Holy hell," Dock breathed. Strewn across the rock were the bloodied bodies of a half-dozen Fangs. Their lupine frames had been slashed up and left to bleed out onto the rock. One or two had apparently tried to crawl away, but had died before getting too far. Flies were already beginning to investigate the bodies, and they were starting to smell. As bad as that was, it was nothing compared to what lay beyond. Cairn forgot to breathe as he looked at the two bodies. The Alexandrian soldier lay on her back, her body surrounded by a pool of slowly drying blood. The Fang lay atop her, its jaws still closed around her neck. Her arms were wrapped around the animal in a terrible parody of a hug, and the hilt of her sword, still grasped in both hands, protruded from its back. Cairn figured that the creature had jumped on top of her, and she had had to impale it from above. Dock prodded at the Fang's body, and with mounting horror, Cairn realized that the soldier had actually impaled both of them, her sword going all the way through the animal's body and piercing her own stomach.

The two men looked at each other, their eyes conveying their mutual revulsion. This was no way for a person to die, let alone a soldier. Cairn suddenly realized that the crying sound was much louder, and he looked around for the source. He found it in a young, brown-haired boy who was seated on a small outcropping halfway up the rock, his back to the two men. Cairn suddenly realized why the Alexandrian had fought so hard, and he felt a wave of pity mixed with admiration. "Hey there," he said softly. The kid stopped crying and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked, and immediately wanted to kick himself for asking such a stupid question.

"Who're you?"

"I'm Cairn Amethyst. This is Dock Liina. What's your name?"

"Frey."

"Frey what?"

The kid shrugged. "Just Frey."

"Don't you have a last name?" The kid shrugged.

"What's your dad's name?" Dock said.

"Haven't got one." Frey replied. Cairn and Dock glanced at each other.

Cairn held out his hands. "You want to come down from there?"

"Cara told me to stay put."

"Who?" Frey wordlessly pointed at the dead soldier. "Cara, huh? Is she your sister or something?" Cairn asked without thinking.

"Never saw her before yesterday."

Cairn felt another pang of distant sadness. "Well, come on, kiddo. We promise not to hurt you. We'll take you back home, okay?"

"Haven't got a home."

"Then...we'll take you with us." Dock's eyebrow shot up towards his hairline.

Frey blinked. "Where?"

"Well, we're going to Treno. Want to come?"

The kid considered. "Okay." He jumped down into Cairn's outstretched arms. Cairn started to lead the kid away from the scene of carnage, but Dock stopped him.

"Wait," he said. Then, he bent down to look Frey in the eyes. "Did this girl give her life for you?" Frey trembled, but nodded. "Then you should watch this."

"What're you going to do?"

Dock turned away. "I'm going to put her to rest," he said quietly. He unwrapped her fingers from the sword and pulled it out of the Fang's body. Then, he took out a white cloth and wiped the blade clean. Next, he grabbed hold of the Fang and pulled it off of the girl's body. Kneeling, he removed her helmet and tenderly wiped the blood from her neck and chin. Then he did the same for her midsection. Once that was done, he straightened her out and folded her hands over her stomach, covering the ugly wound. After that, he stood, unsheathed his mythril rod, and struck the rock wall with enough force to cause a small landslide. "Help me," he said, and the three of them gently covered Cara's body with the stones. As a finishing touch, Dock picked up the girl's sword and worked it between several of the stones so that the hilt stood nearly straight up, gleaming in the sun.

"Now, hold your hands like this," Dock said, forming a loose fist with his right hand, putting the heels of both together, and wrapping his left hand around his right. Frey imitated him. Dock stood and faced the grave. "O holy ones," he said, his voice solemn. "We beg of you that you watch over the resting place of this young woman. We ask that it comes to no harm and that she be swiftly brought to joy in her next life. She gave her life in service of another, and for that we are eternally grateful to her. Amen." Then he added a few words that neither of the others understood, and the stones covering Cara's body began to glow with a soft yellow light. Dock turned and motioned for the others to follow him away. They did.

"What did you do to the rocks?" Frey asked once they were out of sight from the resting place.

Dock smiled and placed an affectionate hand on the boy's shoulder. "That's called White Magic, Frey. I simply made sure that nothing would break them for a long, long time."

"Oh." Frey was silent for a time. "That was nice of you. So why are you going to Trono?"

"Treno," Cairn corrected. "We're just helping some folks get to where they want to go. Speaking of which, do you know how to use that sword?"

Frey shook his head. "Not really."

Cairn grinned and looped an arm around the kid's shoulders. "Well then, I'm going to have to teach you! If you're going to travel with us, Frey, you're going to have to pull your weight!"



"Cairn taught me how to pull my weight, all right. I learned how to cook, to clean armor, clothes, and weapons, how to build and put out a fire, how to use the sword, and how to channel my inner energy, Dock called it Spirit, to use a couple of those sword techniques. I invented the rest myself. Dock tried to teach me White Magic a couple times, but I just never got it." There was a short silence. "Cairn was tough, but he was always fair and never cruel. I was honored when he started introducing me as Frey Amethyst." Frey fell silent again, simply enjoying the feel of his head resting on Serena's shoulder. The sun still shone, though at a lower angle now.

"Is that the end?" Serena asked.

Frey shrugged. "I guess so."

"Congratulations."

"What? What for?"

"For having the courage to face the troubles in your past, Frey. Some people just keep running from them their whole lives."

Frey's hand found hers and squeezed it. "I couldn't have done it without you, Serena." He reached up to brush away the tears on his face, then realized with some surprise that there were none. He stood, and heard Serena get to her feet as well. "Strange," he said, turning to face her.

"What is?"

"I thought I'd get all broken up. Instead, I feel...better."

She nodded and pressed her fingertips together. "There's a saying in Burmecia," she said. "To share joy is to double it. To share sorrow is to halve it."

Frey nodded. "I believe it." Slowly, his gaze wandered towards Lindblum. "We can still make it by mid-afternoon," he said. "Want to get going?"

"Sure," she said.


Serena kept an eye on Frey as they set off again. His face was blank, serious, as though he were lost in memory. She thought back on his story. A lot of things she'd never understood about Frey made sense now. The way he always treated Alexandrian soldiers with a quiet courtesy and respect, even through he frequently mocked his homeland for its backward level of technology and outdated ways. The way he always reached out to those he found without a place to call home, as through he saw a bit of himself in each of them, including her. And especially, she thought, the way he utterly despised drunkards. She wondered if he saw Gareth's face on the men he tossed out of bar after bar when they tried to start a ruckus.

Serena and Frey had traveled together for nearly five years, but only now had they truly gotten to know each other. She sighed and wondered why things had to be that way. She stole another glance at Frey. The look of seriousness and distant sadness was still there. Serena fervently hoped Frey would bounce back from this. If he didn't...she wondered what would happen to him.

[Captain Cyran]

Very nice Kuja, loved the back story on Frey that you gave.

[Kuja]

New chapter, please comment!


Chapter 3: Crossroads

Serena needn't have worried. By the time they'd reached the Hunter's Gate at Lindblum, Frey had reverted back to being his normal, obnoxiously cheerful self. He'd resumed whistling, did a little dance, and tossed away his walking stick with a jaunty air. It came down in a clear field, sticking up out of the ground. Serena was happy that he'd recovered, but silently vowed to keep an eye on him, just in case. The Hunter's Gate yawned before them and they entered, switching from the bright afternoon sun to the cool, stone passage almost instantly. The thick walls of Lindblum rose around and above them, and all manner of people walked beside them. Some were leaving the city, heading to their home on one of the outlying farms. Many more were heading in. Some were travelers, like Frey and Serena. Some were tourists, who had traveled all manner of distances to attend the Festival of the Hunt. Some were folks looking to make some money by selling goods. And all of them, it seemed, had something to say. The murmur of voices surrounded Frey and Serena like the roar of waves on a beach.

Finally, the dimly lit passage opened up into Lindblum's business district. Main Street stretched out ahead of them, its sides lined with people hawking wares. The two soldiers standing at the mouth of the gate attentively watched everyone entering or leaving, paying special attention to those carrying large loads. Frey eyed the pair and successfully managed to keep his laughter under control. Like all soldiers of Lindblum, they wore large gauntlets that made their hands appear gigantic, carried well-crafted sledgehammers in their right hands, and on their heads were steepled white helms. It was the helm that made Frey want to laugh. He could never look at a Lindblum soldier without imagining him bending at the waist and using his head as a battering ram. Their sledgehammers, on the other hand, were no laughing matter. With their tops sculpted to resemble a bird of prey, they were pointed at one end and flat on the other. A good soldier wielding such a hammer could do a lot of damage.

Frey's thoughts about the soldiers ceased as they walked past the gate and out into Main Street. "Hey," he said. "I've got an idea."

"Let me guess," Serena said. "I'm going to go to the Alchemists' to sell these," she patted the bag containing the Zaghnol tusks. "Meanwhile, you're going to have a look around to see what kind of information you can dig up."

"Uh-"

"After a few minutes of which," she continued. "You're going to the bar to flirt with Corri. Am I right?"

Busted, Frey thought with a guilty smile. "Actually, I was going to suggest that I look for food, but gathering information sounds like a good excuse. How'd you know?"

Serena grinned. "Frey, after five years, don't you think I'd pick up on your habits?"

He blushed. "Oh. Good point." Somewhere, they heard a clock strike seven.

"It's getting late" Serena said. "I'd better get a move on." She snagged Frey's collar. "Before you run off to start your romancing, find a room for us. Try the Air Cab Inn."

"No problem."

"And reserve under both our names this time. Please?" Frey knew she was thinking of an incident in Alexandria where Frey had made a reservation under his name only. Serena had had a hell of a time convincing the manager that she was Frey's partner.

"I'll take care off it, I promise," he said. Serena nodded and turned away, quickly disappearing into the crowd. Frey turned and sniffed the air as a horrible smell reached his nose. "Mmmm," he said to himself. "Gysahl pickles." He wandered off in the direction of the scent.


Twenty minutes later, he walked out of the Air Cab Inn, chewing on a cinn-stick. Gysahl pickles might taste great, he thought, but they make your breath smell like nothing else! Those thoughts disappeared as something landed on his shoulder. "Hiya Frey! Kupo," it said.

Frey smiled broadly. "Hey Kapo!"

The moogle leaped from his shoulder and bounced on the pavement. "Long time no see Frey, kupo," he said. "Lots of people here for the Festival, kupo."

"I noticed. So what else is new?" Frey began walking down the street, and Kapo leaped back up to his shoulder so that he wouldn't have to shout.

"Not much, kupo. Say, where's Serena?"

"She's out taking care of business, why?"

"Saw a couple Burmecians yesterday." The moogle brushed at his pompom like it was a lock of hair. "Heard they were part of an envoy, kupo."

"Really? That's unusual." Although Burmecia and Lindblum considered themselves allies, much of it was smoke and hot air. Regent Cid and King Simon were supposedly friends, but the people felt somewhat different. In the world today, Frey thought sadly, an ally is someone who's not holding a knife to your throat.

"Gil for your thoughts, Frey," Kapo said.

"Nothing much. Politics. Say, are you busy? I've got a favor I'd like to ask."

"What's up? Kupo."

"Can you keep an eye on the room I got for Serena and I? I don't want to show up tonight and find out someone snuck in. Here, I'll give you this." Frey reached into a pocket and retrieved a small item.

"Kupo?" Kapo said, sniffing the air. "Kupo! My favorite!" he said as he took Frey's kupo nut. "Sure thing, Frey! Take care, kupo!" With that, Kapo launched himself from Frey's shoulder and went bouncing down the street like an out-of-control child's toy. Frey laughed good-naturedly and headed off down the street.

It was ten minutes later that Frey's life began its left turn towards the unknown. He had been walking through various streets in the business district, listening to the various hawkers, tourists, and locals haggling over prices. Anything and everything was for sale, it seemed. Frey saw one stand owner selling spiced Axolotl, while the woman directly next to him advertised Oglop oil. The combined smell was overwhelming, and Frey quickly moved on before it could give him a headache. Shortly after that, he heard a new group of raised voices, nothing special until he realized that they were raised in anger, not in sales. Frey quickly turned the next corner and came upon a scene that made his lip curl in disgust. Fourteen or fifteen young adults had made a ring around two people. One was a Burmecian man, who was currently on his back, blood running from his nose. The other was a cocky Lindblum kid Frey had gotten to know quite well over the past years. Outside the ring were perhaps a dozen people, including a pair of Lindblum soldiers who were trying to fight their way to the center, and not having much luck. But then, they were hamstrung by the fact that these were their own people, people they had sworn to protect. Frey had no doubt that, if they had been authorized to do so, they could have torn their way through the circle in moments. Frey, fortunately, had no such restraints. He strode forward, decked one kid that tried to get in his way, and burst into the middle, bearing down on the leader of the gang.

"Up to your old tricks again, Byrk?" he snarled.

"Hey Mister Frey!" the kid said with a sickly sweet smile. "Didn't know you were back yet."

"Yeah. I know you wouldn't dare show your face here if you knew I was around."

"Damn straight. You stink like a rat."

"What?!" Frey bellowed, advancing on the kid. For a moment, Byrk's mocking grin faded. Then, it crept back onto his face.

"Hey, maybe we should hook this rat up with your girlfriend, Frey," he said, making sure to stay out of the older man's reach.

"The only rat I see around here is you, Byrk." Out of the corner of his eye, Frey saw the Burmecian slowly getting to his feet as he tried to staunch the flow of blood from his nose. He started over towards Frey and Byrk, probably to rip the kid in half, but Frey made a subtle motion for him to stay back. Let me handle this, he pleaded silently. The Burmecian picked up on the message and stayed where he was.

"You know Frey, I just don't get you," Byrk said, still dancing away from Frey's measured stride. "I mean, what's wrong with your own kind you gotta spend all your time with some sewer rat-" Byrk never got any farther because at that point, Frey quickly stepped forward and slammed his fist into the kid's nose. There was no grace to the blow, no training, no practiced moves, just one hundred and eighty-five pounds of pissed-off swordsman smashing the face of a kid too stupid to know when to cut and run. Byrk sprawled on the pavement of Main Street, blood gushing from his broken nose. Frey stomp-feinted, and the kid hastily scrambled to his feet. "What the hell's wrong with you, Amethyst?" he screamed through the blood. Silence slowly fell over the crowd surrounding them.

"I could ask you the same question!" Frey shot back.

"Why you always gotta stand up for some damn rat? What the hell you like about 'em? Don't you know they live below the Mist? They're freaks of nature and we all know it!"

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Frey yelled. "You wanna talk freaks of nature, I'll give you a freak of nature! I look at you and all I see is a piece of gutter trash that learned how to talk! You never done anything to make this world a better place, you just leech off it! It's people like you that start wars every twenty years! It's people like you that make decent folks live miserable lives! It's people like you that make this world a rotten place to live!"

"You're wrong, Amethyst!" Byrk screeched back. "It's rat-lovers like you that make this world terrible. Who makes airships? Us! Who builds the harbors? Us! Who thought up cable cars? Us! We're the people who make this world good to live in, and it's the rats and Alexandrian retards like you that drag it down again! What's your hometown ever given, Amethyst? Nothing! Fat, stupid, lazy, inbred idiots, that's all your people are!"

"Yeah? Well, I'd rather be fat and stupid than a malicious little bastard like you!" Frey hollered. "You know Byrk, have you ever stopped and thought about who likes you?"

"What the hell are you babbling about?"

"Who are your friends, Byrk? Who do you hang out with? Trash, that's who! Pure, simple, trash, the worst kind of trash there is! The kind of trash that just goes around trying to turn everyone into trash! Now why don't you do something smart for a change and run back to the rest of the trash!" Frey pointed in the direction of the alleyway where Byrk and his gang hung out. "You go back to that trash and you go on telling yourself how great you are! Because it doesn't mean a thing, Byrk! Not a single, solitary thing!"

"You're insane!" Byrk screamed back. "You've spent so much of your life with that rat-woman, she's warped your mind! Even if I am street trash, I'd rather be trash than freaks of nature like her and that...that!" he shouted flinging an arm towards the Burmecian, who now stood somewhat anxiously, fists half-cocked as if expecting another attack. ""And you!" he continued. "Not only do you come here, live in our city, eat our food and drink our drinks, you still prefer to stay with that rat! You're worse than they are!"

Frey nodded. "Coming from you, that's a compliment." Frey stopped stalking Byrk and went to stand by the Burmecian. He lightly placed his hand on the somewhat bewildered man's shoulder and looked out on the crowd. "I might not be from this city," he said loudly. "But at least I have a degree of respect for another person! And if you people are just content to stand there and watch while you see a person beat the hell out of another person" -he noticed Byrk and several of his gang members arch eyebrows- "that's right, another PERSON, then you can take your city and shove it!" He noticed several people turn back towards the Festival and took it as a good sign. "Because if you don't even lift a finger to help someone just because he's different from you, than all your airships, all your harbors, all your fancy cable cars mean nothing! Because then this city is full of heartless monsters who won't look beyond your own hate and fear!"

Frey gave the Burmecian's shoulder a squeeze and felt tension bleed out of the other man. By now, more people had left, either embarrassed from not taking action earlier or worried that they would end up being associated with someone like Byrk. "This man has done nothing to you, has he?"

"He's a-"

"HAS HE?!" Frey thundered. "He hasn't, right? You just saw fur and a tail and decided to beat him senseless just because he has the gall to walk your streets! Am I right?"

"Damn right!"

"I thought so. As far as I'm concerned, Byrk, this man's isn't just your equal, he's better than you by leaps and bounds."

"You don't even know him!"

"I don't need to! Knowing you is enough! Now get out of my sight before I decide to give you a lot more than a broken nose!" With that remark, what remained of the crowd broke up. Byrk stumbled back to his fellow gang members, who followed him away. The two nearby soldiers conferred for a moment, then decided to let things be. They both nodded to Frey and the Burmecian before heading back towards their posts. Once he was sure that the crowd was gone for good, Frey released the other man's shoulder and looked him over for the first time. His hair was jet black, his eyes brown, his fur a steel gray. He stood shorter than most Burmecians, barely taller than Frey. He wore a fairly simple outfit of gold and olive, and apparently carried no weapon.

"Thank you," he said. His voice was low-pitched and melodic, pleasant to the ear. "That was very brave of you."

Frey made an empty-hand gesture. "There's some people in this world, the only way you can reform them is with a cannonball. But I can tell you one thing, most people here are nothing like that guy."

"I know." The Burmecian's smile was genuine. "Most of the people here have been very kind."

"So what happened? I mean, what sparked him off?"

The other man pressed his palms together. "I came here as part of a Burmecian envoy. Since our arrival coincided with the Festival of the Hunt, Regent Cid decided to wait until the celebrations were over before we began our talks. I was exploring the market when...Byrk?...began following me, trying to goad me into a fight. I would have done so, but he had his followers with him."

"Yeah. The kid's a coward. He wouldn't dare fight without his gang behind him."

"I believe you are right. In any case, after some time, he began to get angry. He had his group surround me so that I couldn't simply walk away. Then, one of them tapped me on the shoulder, and when I turned to see who they were, he attacked me. A lucky blow, I don't think it broke anything, but it knocked me over. That was when you showed up."

"Glad to be of service."

The Burmecian's smile turned predatory. "I assure you, I would not have lost to him. A Burmecian Dragon Knight does not lose to..." he seemed to search for a suitably vile expression.

"Gutter slime?" Frey suggested.

"Gutter slime," the other confirmed with a nod. He held out a hand. "My name is Daren Olivera."

Frey took his hand and pumped it. "I'm Frey Amethyst. So Daren, what's the envoy here to do in Lindblum?" Daren hesitated. "If it's not for me to know, you don't have to tell me," Frey put in quickly.

"Nothing like that," Daren said with a smile. "Just a routine meeting." Then he leaned in and whispered "But if you want to know the truth, I didn't pay much attention to that part. Just coming for the Festival was enough."

Frey laughed out loud. He was liking Daren more with each passing minute. "So you intend to participate in the Grand Hunt tomorrow?"

"Absolutely. I want to show everyone my best." He cracked his neck. "But for now, all I want to do is see the sights." He raised an eyebrow. "And maybe get a drink."

Frey smiled. "Well then, you just found yourself a tour guide. I'll show you around, Daren." He lowered his voice. "And I'll show you where the real bars are, the ones that serve real drinks instead of putting a shot in a glass of water and calling it liquor."

Daren chuckled. "Sounds appealing. Lead on Frey, and rest assured, I'll be right behind you."


Serena walked out of the Alchemist's shop seven thousand gil richer. Of course, half of it was Frey's, but it was still quite a ransom. The day's light was fading, and her distance from the festival meant that the street was fairly quiet. Serena considered heading to the inn, but then decided that it was a bit too early. She decided to join Frey at the bar for a drink or two. It would take quite awhile to wind her way through the streets, but then, she wasn't taking the streets. Serena flexed once, then leaped up to the roof of the nearest building.


The Crying Hound was a relatively low-key establishment found on the border of the city's industrial and business districts. A thin haze of smoke was often seen drifting out the door, and the low murmur of voices could often be heard. Frey liked it because it was quiet, unpretentious, and inexpensive. "Come on," he said to Daren. "This is the place I told you about."

"Looks rather run down," Daren commented.

"Trust me, it's better on the inside." Daren shrugged and followed Frey in. "Hey witch, pair of drinks here," Frey said as soon as he reached the bar itself.

"Get outta here," the woman tending bar said without turning towards him. Then, she blinked once or twice and turned to see who it was. "Frey!" she said, her face lighting up.

"Hey Corri," he returned with a wink.

"How long's it been? Month? Two?"

"I think so."

"Good to see your face in here again, hon. It's been slow." She looked Daren up and down with more than just a hint of interest. "Who's your new friend?"

"Corri, meet Daren. Daren this is Corri."

"Hiya," she said with an endearing smile. "You're a cute one." Frey had the sudden impression that if Daren had been human, he would have been blushing deeply.

"Ah...hello," he finally said, finding his way into a stool by feel. Frey forced himself to kill a smirk that would probably have left Daren even more embarrassed. Then again, Corri did tend to have that effect on people. The leggy brunette never bothered to play games. She just went straight for the kill.

"Hey, Corri," Frey said, recapturing her attention. He rapped a knuckle on the bar. "We're still waiting."

"Oh!" she said, blinking her green eyes. "Sorry 'bout that. Usual?" Frey nodded. She looked back over at Daren and smiled sweetly. "How about you, honey?"

"Uh...I'll just have...whatever he's having," Daren managed.

"Sure thing," she said, and strode off. Daren exhaled heavily and Frey chuckled.

"Now I know why you like this place," Daren said.

"Doesn't take a genius to figure that one out, does it? Just wait until you get your drink."

Corri returned with a pair of glasses full of a blue liquid. "Here you go, gents," she said. "Enjoy." Frey raised his glass in a mock salute and promptly drank it down, enjoying the bittersweet taste. Daren took an experimental swallow, then slowly drank it down. "Whoa there, you two," Corri said, eyeing them. "You'd best not be starting a drinking contest in my bar. You can go back to the festival for that."

"No, no," Frey reassured her. "But we would like another round. Right?"

"We, we would," Daren confirmed.

Corri raised an eyebrow. "I don't know, Frey," she said. "I never seen this Daren guy before, and the last time you came in here without Serena to drag you home, I ended up watching you for the night." She smiled seductively and lowered her voice. "Course, I can't really complain about that one, can I?"

"Nope," Frey said. "But don't worry. We promise to behave." Corri shrugged and took their empty glasses away. As she did so, Frey noticed Daren glaring at him. He blinked. "Uh, did I offend you?" he asked.

"Huh?" Daren blinked and his face lost its edge. Frey realized that he hadn't been glaring, just deep in thought. "Oh, no, I was just thinking. Back at the festival, that Byrk said that you traveled with a Burmecian, is that right?"

"Yeah-"

Daren cut him off. "And her name is Serena?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Daren leaned in close. "Are you telling me that you know Serena Crescent?" Alarm bells started going off in Frey's head.



Serena looked down at the Crying Hound, nestled between two larger buildings. She grinned and wondered if Frey had already gotten there and left with Corri. She decided to find out, and let herself drop to the street.



"Uh, yeah," Frey whispered back. "Why?"

Daren leaned back again, a somewhat grim look on his face. "I used to know her," he said.

"Is that so? Were you friends or something?"

Daren nodded. "You could put it that way, yes." More alarm bells went off in Frey's head. Is this the guy who asked her to marry him? he wondered. No, no way. That's just too big of a coincidence.

"Hey Corri," Serena's voice called from the door. "You seen Frey here?"

"You bet," Corri answered. "He's sitting over there with his new buddy."

"What? Who's..." Serena's voice trailed off as she and Daren locked gazes. Daren stood and slowly walked over to her.

"Hello Serena," he said. "It's been a long time."

"Yes," she said faintly. "A very long time." A moment later, they had their arms around each other. Frey's stomach slowly turned to ice.

[SHODAN]

Kupo! Kupo kupo? It feels like a filler chapter.. (which is not necessarily bad thing but makes it little uncommentable.)

[Shroom Man 777]

Magnificent! Really love this.... though your starting to focus more on Frey and Serena than the actual FF9 characters -_-

[Ryoga]

Hey, I like it. The fanwhores seem to flock to the angsty stuff like FF7 and 8, so I don't see much halfway decent stuff from FF9. Definite thumbs-up for the concept, at the least. Even moreso because Freya was one of my favorite members of the party.

Almost makes me want to work on that fake 'biography' of Fratley I've had on the backburner for a while...

[Captain Cyran]

Very good, it's not much in the action department. But it's got very good storyline to it.

[Kuja]

Kupo! Kupo kupo? It feels like a filler chapter.. (which is not necessarily bad thing but makes it little uncommentable.)

?!?!!?!?

Does it really come off that way?

Magnificent! Really love this.... though your starting to focus more on Frey and Serena than the actual FF9 characters -_-

Well, they ARE the main characters of the story. This is a sort of prequel/background to the FF9 story.

Very good, it's not much in the action department. But it's got very good storyline to it.

There will be action soon. Remember, it's the Festival of the Hunt...

[SHODAN]

?!?!!?!?

Does it really come off that way?

Yes. But I am a hypercritic hypocritic bitch, pay no attention to me.

[Kuja]

OK, I've had a bit of writer's block, but I've recently been working on this story, so I hope to have a chapter up within the next couple days. Thanks.