Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Winding Roads ❯ A stump in the woods and a giant with a mace for an arm ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

It's 2:44 in the morning, I'm listening to my Grim Fandango soundtrack, and I have enough peppermint tea with honey in my system to subdue a large land-dwelling animal (perhaps a large horse, or maybe a cow) and suddenly I'm struck with inspiration for this fic. So, I decided that sleep is for the weak and pulled a chair up to my computer and, well, here I am. What was I supposed to be writing again? Oh yeah, the disclaimer. Sorry, I got kinda' off track. I don't own FF9, Amarant, Freya, or really any rights to the game (except for the bragging right that I beat the game.) Ummm, well, that's it I guess, so here I go . . .

I rate this story: R (for language and other such oddities)
Written by: Peach Goddess
This chapter started on: 8/26/2001
This chapter finished on: 8/28/2001
E-mail address: confused@crosslink.net
"Winding Roads: chapter 3"

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Zidane's right hand clenched and unclenched the end of the meticulously carved and polished armrest of his meticulously carved and polished throne while he sat upon his meticulously sewn and embroidered red cushion. The letter in his left hand shook with his hand as the King deeply chuckled. Queen Garnet stared at him from her throne, which just so happened to be to the left of his, and significantly smaller in size as well. She was growing worried for her husband, ever since he received that letter an hour ago he had been in such an odd mood. Zidane seemed to have slipped into an un-explained daze and every once and a while she saw his eyes dart across the letter again, an amused look on his face, and when he finished his reading it was always followed by a bought of chuckling and shaking his head as if he was denying something with much ferocity.

"Darling, will you please tell me what's so funny? Or at the very least let me see the letter your reading?," Garnet pleaded, her chocolate eyes softening and eyelashes fluttering to look more innocent in hopes of winning the argument by using her girlish charms.

"Yes, you may see the letter, Sweet."

Garnet's face lit up as she readjusted her long, billowing, skirts so she could have more flexibility as she reached over to snatch the letter away, receiving a reprimanding look from Beatrix, who was stationed by the large, carved, and painted green doors, for acting so un-lady like. Garnet turned her nose up at her guard and settled back down into her seat, tilting from side to side trying to get her skirts back to the proper, and more comfortable, position. She giddily opened the letter and soon sent an un-amused look Zidane's way. He merely smiled and said;

"Well, you wanted to read the letter." Garnet was fuming as she tossed the letter back his way, the yellowed parchment plummeted to the ground after wafting odd directions in the air for a matter of uncounted moments, landing so it's broken, red, wax crest was now visible.

"Yes, I did. But you know perfectly well I can't read Burmecian!"

"So you want me to tell you what is said?"

"Yes! I have been trying to get you to tell me for the past hour!," Garnet bellowed, once again receiving a scolding look from the surly brunette by the doors.

"Let's just say that life has a funny way of working things out, and Freya's is the funniest."

The Queen groaned and rested her head on her hand; her elbow delicately perched on her armrest.

"That doesn't answer anything! I still have no idea what that letter says!" Zidane just smiled and stood from his seat for a moment, bending over and picking up the letter before returning to his chair. He motioned to one of the many Advisors who lined the walls of the throne wall, waiting for him on hand and foot. The King beckoned to one of his most trusted men, Quilden, to come to him. Quilden rushed to the throne and kneeled, obviously feeling very honored that the King had chosen him over the all other Advisors. With a breathy voice old with age and wise with wisdom my murmured an elegant 'Your Highness' before standing again only to go into a deep bow and hold his pose until other wise instructed.

"Quilden, pack our bags. We are going to Burmecia."

"Yes, your Eminence. It will be done at once Sire," Quilden said with an excited voice before running off to find a servant to pack the Monarch's luggage.

Zidane watched Quilden leave before his found his eyes roaming over the paper reading it again and again, chuckling all the while.

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"Why the fuck does it take so long to get to Burmecia?," Amarant snarled, reaching his muscled forearm to his lips and quickly tearing out some large black thorns with his teeth, unfortunately taking a bit of skin with them, and spitting them to the ground before returning his attention to the Dragoon to his left.

"But more importantly why the fuck does the trip to Burmecia involve walking through a bunch of goddamned giant, mutant, pricker-bushes?"

After speaking his mind he returned to picking the thorns from his arm with his teeth. Freya mumbled something under her breath and snatched his arm from him, being careful to mind the fresh red scabs forming over the newly bitten off patches of light blue flesh.

"What the fuck are you doing, Rat? Gimme' my damn arm back!," Amarant roared, roughly tugging his arm back, but Freya, being much stronger than she looked, kept a tight grip on his arm, tugged it back. She wrapped her right arm around his elbow, snaking it under the rest of his arm to get a firm hold on his wrist before lifting her left hand up, her forefinger and thumb drawn whilst her other two fingers rested on her palm. She carefully closed her talons around the sides of the thorn, digging them slightly into the sliver of plant before quickly pulling it out, only leaving behind a small hole from where the thorn had bore into Amarant's skin. The Giant's eyes looked from his handy work on his arm to Freya's.

"You always have to one-up me don't you, Bitch?"

"Yes Amarant, I wake up early every morning just to plan out my daily plots against you. I'm so devious," Freya let out sarcastically.

Amarant grunted and shook his arm, drawing Freya's attention back to it again. She sighed and began the meticulous task of digging out the burrowing plant thorns from her companion's arm. Does the excitement in her life never cease?

"Where the Hell are when anyway?"

"I-I thought you knew, Amarant. I was just following you this entire time," Freya's voice quavered, her eyes widening in shock. Amarant's head shot to the side, his dark eyes ablaze and jaw slack.

"You mean were-?"

"No, I was only yanking your chain. We are directly east from the Chocobo's Forrest and if we keep on going straight we will be in Gizamaluke's Grotto in no time at all. Then from there it's just half a day's walk to Burmecia."

"I feel the sudden urge to slap you coming on, Rat."

"If you do I'll stop pulling thorns from your arm. On second thought maybe I should just stop. After a while your skin would form around the thorns and you could sharpen them into points and have a mace built into your arm."

"Or maybe I should cut off your damned arms and legs with a hacksaw," Amarant grunted. Freya shrugged and returned to her work.

"Either, or I suppose."

~*~*~

Amarant bit his lip at the searing pain that shot through his arm, he had forgotten if the plant they tramped through was poisonous or not. If so they would find out soon enough if they passed out with puffy purple faces and swollen tongs. Freya seemed to have made it through the underbrush without much damage.

'It must have been the damned coat she was wearing,' Amarant mused as her surveyed the injuries on his companion. Nothing to sever, only some scratches on her face which were only noticeable because of the thin lines of blood dried in her short fur. Amarant's eyes left her cheek and traveled to Freya's own eyes, which were downcast and in obvious concentration oh her task at hand. She had beautiful eyes. They were a haunting emerald green and almost perfectly round, rimmed with thick, black lashes that contrasted against her light gray fur and sliver hair, serving only to guide one's attention back to her gentle eyes. Amarant's gaze shot to the ground, suddenly the moss that was growing the base of the fallen log they were sitting on became very interesting very quickly.

He hissed in pain as Freya pulled the last thorn from his tender arm, his other arm made it through the thicket of weeds unscathed, he had walked sideways reducing the over all damage done to him by the plants. His eyes followed Freya as she stood up, brushing off the dirt and bits off moss that had collected on her from the day's journey across the flatlands and trough many a forest. She tilted her head back slightly, her hands placed delicately on her hips while one knee was slightly bent, giving off the distinct feeling of impatience.

"Well, are you coming or not? The entire day you've been complaining to me about how long the trip was and I hate to crush your hold on reality, but Burmecia isn't getting any closer with us just lounging around on a stump," She spoke evenly, briefly glancing back to see Amarant crouching down next to the broken tree and wrap a supportive arm around it.

"Now you've done it Freya, you hurt the damn stump's feelings," Amarant Tilted his head close to the stump, a small pout forming on his face. "What did you stay Stump? All right, I won't go anywhere until the mean Rat apologizes to you. We might be here a while, Stump. Freya is an insensitive, cold hearted, Bitch."

"Come on Amarant, I don't have time for your games."

"Stump requested my presence to comfort him, and damn it, I'll do just that!"

"We have to go now," Freya spoke sternly, doing her best to leave out any room for discussion.

"You heard the decaying broken tree, I'm not leaving until you say fucking say your sorry, Rat."

"Fine, I'm sorry Log."

"There were two things wrong with that apology. One, its name is Stump, not Log, and Two, that was the most fucking pathetic apology I have ever heard. To think you call you self a knight."
The Dragoon drooped her head heavily into an awaiting hand in embarrassment while mumbling something along the lines of, 'I can't believe I'm going to do this'. Freya walked up to the broken tree and dramatically bowed, removing her hat and swirling in the air for an uncounted number of times before resting the tattered helmet over her heart. Amarant was surprised to see long waves of shinny silver hair piled haphazardly to the top of her head in a messy bun which was barely held up by a thin, dried, grass reed, He didn't know she had such long hair. He would have to tease her about it later. He averted his eyes back to the stump as Freya began her apology.

"Please, Sir Stump, I beg of thee. I meant no harm in my comments, they were spoken in true ignorance on my behalf, I am but a traveler and know no better. Accept my apologies and I will return to you bearing gifts of exotic spices, exotic treasure, and equally exotic women." She quickly stood from her highly over exenterated bow, turning to Amarant and putting on her previous look of annoyance.

"Happy now?"

Amarant grinned "Very."

"Let's go then."

"Oh yes, we shant dally along here any longer, the scenery is so dreary," Amarant mocked, bring a large hand up to his cheek while his other arm was put behind his back in a girlish manner very unbecoming of him.

"What is wrong with you today? Could it be your enjoying my company more than you let on? Dear gods, are you actually having fun? Well I'll de damned."

Amarant sneered and dutifully followed behind her, not giving her an answer. Freya reveled in her victory all the more because of his silence.

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They walked for hours until dusk began to fall, both of the suns that lit the sky a vibrant oranges and reds began to slowly descend behind the mountains, allowing the two moons to come out and mingle with the thousands of stars. Freya and Amarant had reached Gizamaluke's Grotto much later than either had imagined, mostly on account of monsters but in part because Freya had insisted on eating lunch outside. The gates of the Grotto were new and still shined with a youthful glimmer, begging for you to come and play. Gizamaluke's Grotto had been the latest project for the busy Burmecian's, the first priority had been rebuilding the city, but now that Burmecia had been restored they moved on to their other dwellings. As far as Freya knew they were making plans to rebuild Cleyra, but it would take awhile, none of them knew how to rebuild a giant tree.

She flung her small shoulder bag unceremoniously to the ground as they grew nearer to the shiny gates. Amarant walked up to gates, wrapping his calloused hands around the thin iron bars shaking them roughly.

"It's locked. What the fuck are we supposed to do now, and if you say go back to Lindblum I'm going to chop you into pieces so fucking small I'll be able to slid you under this god damned gate."

Freya began to sift through her bag, occasionally tossing out items. The pile began to grow around the small pack, flint rocks, a bit of dry hay, a hairbrush, a map, an other useful items were stacked atop one and other, neatly strew about. Freya stopped her assault on the bag when she let out a triumphant 'Ah ha!' and pulled out a small golden object which she immediately placed in her pocket. She repacked her bag hurriedly, not bothering to stuff the arm of her spare goldenrod shirt back in as she fiercely pulled at the ties before making a tight bow with the worn leather pulls. The Dragoon slung the bag over her shoulder again and reached into her pocket retrieving the object she had placed into it earlier. She raised it high above her head and swung it back and forth gently, serenely smiling as the soft sound of jingling wafted through the air. With it held so high up Amarant was finally able to see what she was holding.

A small, golden, bell.

They stood in silence for a while after Freya had lowed her arm and the bell. The Bounty Hunter looked around unimpressed.

"Nothing fucking happened"

"Patience, Tall one, patience," Freya chided with a smile in her voice. As soon as the woods left her mouth a strange rumbling was heard close by. Amarant stood on guard, ready to attack any potential threat that might arise. The rumbling grew louder before fading out altogether as the gates slowly opened allowing them entrance into the dwelling beyond. Amarant relaxed as the rumbling stopped and the gates open, he began following Freya's small confident steps into the mountainside. When they were both safe inside the gates Freya lifted her arm and swung it again, the bell ringing happily as the gates slammed shut, gusts of air from the sudden movement tugged at their clothes and hair.

"Why the hell did it take so long to open, but closed faster than I can fucking spit?"

"The gears jam up if they aren't used for awhile, the actual gates are new but the gate mechanics aren't. I would guess that they have had the same system here ever since Gizamaluke's Grotto was built, which was around four-hundred years ago."

"One of these days the damn thing is going to stop working altogether, Stupid Rats will have something to worry about then," Amarant grunted. Freya's face scrunched up in a deep pensive look.

"Something feels . . . off."

"Off?," Amarant echoed.

"It just-never mind, it's probably nothing come on, we might be able to find someplace to sleep inside."

"Hold on a second."

Freya turned back to him with a puzzled look on her face.

"What is it?," she inquired.

"If what Zidane said is true, then Gizamaluke's Grotto is fucking filled to the rim with monsters."

"Not anymore. They all died out."

"What the hell would make an entire damn army of monsters kick the bucket?"

"No one knows."

"For some reason that doesn't give me any more fucking confidence."

Freya smirked.

"I'm a Knight, I make it a point to rescue Gentlemen in distress."

"Oh, my savior, it must be fucking fate or some shit like that," Amarant said blandly, shrugging his shoulders. Freya laughed and started walking again, stopping only to ring the golden bell again to open the next door. This time the gates opened to something more ominous than a stone walkway, darkness. Pure darkness. Not one ray of light shone through any crack in any wall, in part to the fact it was now nighttime, but also because no torches lit the way on the narrow walkways and numerous staircases. Freya felt a shiver run down her spine, feeling the cold air even through her fur. She just knew her breathing was creating visible puffs of air. Freya sighed and turned back to where she thought Amarant was.

"Look, we should just go outside and wait until morning to pass through."

"Why?"

"Why? It's so dark I can't see a bloody thing! That's why!"

"Pass me your bag."

"What?"

"Just give it, don't make me beat you into submission, you damn Rat."

"Okay, but if you run off with it I swear I'll hunt you down and skin you to make a rug."

She slid the pack off of her shoulder and held it blindly out in front of her, a bit surprised when she felt it roughly tugged from her grasp and shortly began to hear items dropping to the floor.

"You really can't fucking see, can you?," Amarant taunted.

"No, I'm only joking, I can see so well I can almost see through walls. Of coarse I can't see, you Dolt."

"Well aren't we Miss Sarcastic Bitch today? Ah-here it is."

Random noises followed Amarant's cry of triumph, none of which Freya could name but all sounded so familiar that Freya had their names on the very tip of her tongue, all wanting to spill forth from her mouth. While her thought and memories reeled trying to figure out what was making the strange sound. She reeled back as light assaulted her eyes, he pupils dilating from the sudden attack the now lighten torch brought upon her un-protected vision. She eyed the item Amarant held in his right hand.

"Ah, my flint rocks."

The Bounty Hunter smiled at her and called out a gruff 'Catch' a she tossed the lighten torch towards Freya, who barely managed to catch it by the cold steel handle.

"Have you gone crazy? I could have been burned! My entire body is covered with fur, if I did catch it wouldn't be pleasant for either of us. I would be on fire and you would have to smell my burning flesh."

"Just how I like my rat, well done."

"Barbarian."

While their fight had ensued Amarant had begun to re-pack her bag for the second time that day, grabbing the torch from Freya before shoving the bag in her general direction. She took the bag, but smacked him in the back of the head immediately afterwards.

"What the fuck was that for?"

"That was for being yourself. You need good beating every once and a while, keeps you humble."

Amarant was silent for a bit, every so often waving the torch around to gaze at one of the empty buildings and decorative doors. Finally the silence was broken.

"Freya, where the hell is everybody?"

"I don't know, and that's why I'm worried."

"Ugh, lets talk about something else, this conversation is creeping the shit out of me."

"Alright, what do you want to talk about?"

Amarant looked pensive before an enlightened look passed over his face.

"Your bell."

"My bell?"

"Yeah, the tiny gold one that opened up the fucking gate."

"What about it?," Freya inquired.

"I overheard Zidane speaking about his travels before I joined the god damned 'World Saving Jamboree' and he said something about passing through the Grotto and having to find fifty thousand fucking bells to get through."

"Ah, yes. Do you really want to hear about it?"

Amarant shrugged "What the fuck not?"

"Alright," Freya sighed, "well, my bell is different from the ones he had. Zidane used the 'Camyne Yihn' whilst I have 'Sanle Yihn', which translates from Burmecian to 'Simple Bell' and 'Honored Bell'. The Camyne Yihn are given to a select few guards, so if someone did manage to get their hands on one they could only get so far past the security. You see, the Camyne Yihn break after one use, so it's nearly impossible to steal anything unless you had a lot of Camyne Yihn or a single Sanle Yihn, which is just a smaller version of the Camyne Yihn, only it never breaks. Get it?"

"I think so, but I have one question for you. Why the fuck do you use bells? Of all the sissy items to use, your people picked that, what is in the damn water in Burmecia?"

Freya laughed and shook her head.

"I have no idea what's in the water, but I could sure go for some right now."

"Yeah, I want to get drunk off of my ass so badly I think I would kill for a drink."

Freya took a step to her left, away from Amarant who just chuckled and continued on down the hallways, twisting and turning, only stopping to have Freya open more doors for them. They walked for what seemed like hours, chatting and joking like they had never parted after the world was saved. Neither of them had ever expected to find such a good companion in the other, and were even more surprised to see how talkative their mere presence seemed to make each other. Freya peered up at him in one of their comfortable moments of silence, when nothing had to be said, so nothing was. Her eyes softened as she looked at him, he wasn't all that strange when you got to know him, and at that moment with his violent red hair falling into his face, his chin jutted out with a look of confidence, and his shoulders squared arrogantly in spite of his horrendous slouched figure, Freya wanted to know him better than anyone.

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Well, what did you think? I rather liked the way this chapter turned out, I wanted to include a lot of Freya/Amarant scenes, they just have such a great chemistry together, don't they? I would like to thank all the people who have written me about my fic, it really means a lot to me and my self esteem (this is my first ever FF9 fic, I'm kinda' nervous about it) not to mention Stumpy the tree stump, a real life stump in the woods behind my house, he was so thrilled to be written about, as it turns out people mostly write about living trees. Oh well, write Stumpy and me, we would really appreciate it. Thank you all!

-Peach Goddess
confused@crosslink.net