Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Winding Roads ❯ A Broken wagon and the people who love it ( Chapter 4 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Peach Goddess 
Today's lesson: Bells are for sissys.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Comedy | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.11.2001 | Updated On: 11.11.2001 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 169 | Status: Completed
Today's lesson: Bells are for sissys.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Comedy | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 11.11.2001 | Updated On: 11.11.2001 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.3K | Visits: 169 | Status: Completed
Okay, I'm back. Be happy or something. Anyhow, I actually have something to say here, I'm so happy! First off I would like to thank ~*Punk Zell Dincht*~ for writing me such wonderful reviews *waves around her coffee mug filled with tea* I think I have enough here to take out a couple dozen cows, so don't worry about that there problem. Next, I would like to thank Puddin' for being my super twin and giving me plenty of quotes. Last, and certainly not least, I would like to thank suzanami, just because she's a sweetie who praises my fan fiction, even when it sucks. Wow, was that kinda' motivational and serious? I must be slipping in my old age . . .
I don't own FF9, Freya, or Amarant, but I did make up characters (I'm *so* surprised I did, I'm usually to lazy to actually make people up.)
I rate this story: R (for Amarant's sailor like cursing)
Written by: Peach Goddess
This chapter started on: 8/28/2001 (I have no life, I finished chapter three and later that day I'm working on chapter four.)
This chapter finished on: 9/7/2001
E-mail address: confused@crosslink.net
"Winding Roads: Chapter 4" (bum-Bum-BUM!)
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They had walked through the twisting hallways for about two hours, Amarant had predicted, before they were both so exhausted that the cold, dusty, stone floor was beginning to look mighty comfortable. By some miracle from some random god they had managed to tap into their energy reserves and get a fire started. Both Freya and Amarant were curled up on the floor on opposite sides of the fire, their arms being used as makeshift pillows because of the lack of something better, the only thing that was even close to them in the hallway was an old broken wagon. Well, it wasn't broken until Amarant smashed off a side and pulled off a wheel to get the fire started. Freya wasn't complaining though, it wasn't her wagon. She had offered Amarant the use of her pack as a pillow; he had declined her offer before rolling over so his back was facing the fire, and her. Deciding it was his loss she rested her head upon pack and then quickly discarded it, mumbling a few choice curses. As it turned out a bag filled with hard objects isn't the most comfortable thing in the world to rest your head on.
Freya, still unable to sleep even though her brain was begging her to find the bluntest object available and beat herself into unconsciousness, finally decided to sit up. She did, although very reluctantly. After she pushed herself into an up-right position Freya looked past the smoldering fire to her traveling companion. He was still sound asleep, the lucky bastard. Her clawed hands began to massage the kinks out of her neck caused by her hour or so of tossing and turning on the hard floor. Her mind began to think about their location, most likely only about half an hour's walk to get through the rest of the Grotto and then only a two hours walk to Burmecia, if they left now they could be there a little after dawn . . . but one on the 'they' was passed out on the floor. Freya wouldn't be getting anymore sleep tonight, she hadn't slept well since . . . no. She wouldn't think about that now, she was barely functioning as it was and Freya didn't need anything more to distract her.
She looked over once more to Amarant before mustering up the strength to stand up again. It wouldn't make any sense for her to just sit there until he woke up, that would just be wasting her valuable time and energy, the latter she was desperately lacking. Amarant wouldn't mind if she went ahead, he would have done the same if the situation was switched, wouldn't he? With her mind made up Freya grabbed her Pike and slung her pack over her shoulder, pausing only to gaze longingly at Amarant again, she was going to miss him. Freya shook her head roughly, it was amazing what lack of sleep could do to you, she would most likely see him in less than a day and already thoughts of him not being there brought cold feelings of loneliness seeping into her skin. Freya breathed a heavy sigh before grabbing the discarded torch off of the ground and stuck it into the fire until the wick caught. From their conversations earlier the Dragoon had learned that by some miracle in his genetics Amarant could see perfectly in the dark, and according to him he sometimes saw better at night than in the day light. Following that revelation Freya had made a crack about his lack of vision being caused by his unruly mop hair that covered most of his face, the joking comment caused them to spring into another round of good-natured bickering.
Her clawed toes made a light scraping sound on the stone floor, although it was hard to hear over Amarant's heavy breathing. She looked down the looming hallway, the torch in her left hand held out threateningly in front of her, silently daring any enemies to try and stop her.
"Well, here I go."
Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, silently begging to be joined by an un-named someone's much larger ones, but the pleas fell to deaf ears, or as this case was, sleeping ones.
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Mogita silently slipped through her small custom door, silently praying she wouldn't wake up her sleeping Master. He hated to be woken up. Much to Mogita's surprise her Master wasn't asleep at all, in fact he was very much awake, sitting up straight in his chair with a large green covered book perched on his knee. Even with his hearing going his once sharp ears heard the almost silent squeak of the miniature door as his Mog stepped into the room. He tore his eyes from the book and shut it quickly, obviously not wanting to show what it contained to Mogita. Even though he was upset for being disturbed from his work he plastered a smile on his face and looked down at her with disinterest.
"Yes, Mogita?"
"Master, I was sent from the Minister to aware you of your friend's approach."
Silence wafted through the air.
"How far?," Her Master questioned.
"Just outside of the city, the Look out said about twenty minutes from here."
"And just how long ago was that?"
"Almost ten, I think . . ."
"Do not think, find out."
"Yes Master!"
The small Mog bowed and quickly exited the room, muttering 'Yes, Master' and 'Right away, Master' as quickly as she could. Once her small door slammed shut her Master clenched the book in his lap with both of his hands, the crushed velvet cover worn to shreds in some places, obviously from receiving the kind of treatment it was at that very moment. His claws trailed gently over the leather crest on the front, so worn with time you could barely read the inscription. Barely. The leather was pressed with a family crest; from the intricate detail it was obviously a very old well respected family. The center shield was divided into six even parts, all depicted different symbols and all representing different things about the pure bloodline. His fingers trailed over the most beaten part of the leather, the place where the family's name was pressed. The Family name of Crescent.
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Amarant wasn't expecting much when he woke up; at the most maybe breakfast, but he wasn't expecting to wake up well past dawn with Freya missing. He had looked almost frantically for a note or sign of struggle. Finding nothing his logical mind was begging to kick in, even though it was still a bit hazy from the long sleep. He looked around their dark and must campsite, his eyes having adjusted to the dimness long ago, and spied disturbances in the dust that had accumulated there, the dirty floor had made perfect imprints of her feet, four clawed toes and all. Her bag was also gone, as was her Pike and the torch. Then it clicked in the Assassin's brain.
"That sneaky little bitch, she went on without me."
A large booted foot stamped down on the lighten embers, the only thing that remained of the fire that had raged there only hours ago. Amarant snorted as the glow of the ambers died away and the ashes gently glided around, landing on the broken wagon, the ground, and Amarant himself.
"Fine, if she left me she won't be fucking crushed if I go somewhere else, maybe I'll go to Daguerro and scare the shit out of the old men, they're always good for a laugh or two."
It was about then a though struck Amarant.
"Freya still has all the supplies in her bag, the stupid fucking Rat, and then she ran off to Burmecia with em'."
Her turned angrily to glare down the passage Freya had went down. Amarant sighed and shook his head b before he started to follow her footprints in the dust down the twisting hallways and out of Gizamaluke's Grotto.
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Have you ever been somewhere that you absolutely loved, only to return and have it be completely different than what you remembered? That was how Freya felt the exact moment she stepped up to the gates of the rain plagued Burmecia. Freya had immediately recognized one of the gaurds on duty by the gate to the city, Pahn Hook, but it was hard not to recognize him with his bright orange hair and platinum fur. He would always stand out in crowds of people; drastically contrasting with the gray and black coloring their kind was usually known for. Freya had waved to Pahn and jogged up to where he was on guard, his face contorting into a look of fear for a moment before falling into one of extreme nervousness. The Dragoon paused and looked behind her curiously her eyes scanning the plains behind her, she spotting nothing and shook of the look he gave her as a sleep deprived hallucination. Freya turned her head back to her friend before resting a friendly hand on his rain-soaked shoulder, patting it roughly in greeting.
"Pahn! It's been a long time my friend! Tell me, how are the wife and kids? All still healthy I hope," Freya smiled. Pahn's eyes darted to her hand, his look of discomfort growing at the friendly contact.
"They are . . . doing well, thank you for your concern, Madam."
A frown found it's way across Freya's once happy face.
"Madam? Don't you recognize me Pahn? It's me Fre-"
"I-I know who you are, they are expecting you at the Court, Madam."
Freya glanced warily at the guard, a bit frightened at his odd behavior. She stepped past her friend, gently hopping over a puddle that formed in one of the dips in the brick road. Freya turned back to her friend with a puzzled look planted firmly on her face.
"Well, tell you family I said hello."
Pahn didn't give a response.
"Bye then . . .," Freya trailed. Pahn finally moved, turning to her and removed his helmet while bowing.
"Madam, good day."
That was the kind of behavior Freya ran into all the way to the Court, old friends being distant, acting strangely polite and distant. As she neared the doors of the large stone building the Burmecian's behavior became even more ridged and polite, the closer Freya drew to the Court the deeper the bows became and they all began to address her as 'Tashii', a Burmecian word for meaning 'Exalted One'.
"Ah, Freya Tashii! We have been expecting you; imagine our shock when Sulli returned without you, we almost sent out a search party!"
Freya turned and looked behind her, glad that someone was engaging her in a conversation but still a bit confused as to why she was treated with so much respect.
"Minister Bullon, it is an honor to see you again," Freya greeted as she deeply bowed. Minister Bullon looked around nervously before pulling her up quickly by her shoulders.
"No need for that anymore, right, Freya Tashii? Come, we must be off many things to do now that you're here, showing you around Court and the such like, yes, much to do."
"No."
"Why ever not Freya Tashii?"
"Because I have absolutely no idea about what's going on here, I have no idea why everyone bows when I pass, or why everyone has been showing me so much respect, that's why!," Freya bellowed. Minister Bullon looked at her with a puzzled look that gave Freya's a run for its money.
"Didn't you read the letter?"
Freya paled a bit, she had forgotten all about the letter.
"No, I'm afraid I didn't," She whispered meekly.
"Than you really have no idea about why you're here, Freya Tashii?"
"No idea what so ever, Minister."
Bullon looked uncertain for a moment, obviously trying to think of a way to break the news as bluntly as possible. He sighed.
"We don't know how to say this, it's a very hard thing to just spring on somebody like this but, well, we are guessing we have no choice. Alright," Bullon sighed, taking in a calming breath " here we go. Freya Tashii, you're the new Queen of Burmecia."
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Ugh, see what happens when I attempt cliffhangers? This was a very short chapter for a couple of reasons, one: I wanted it to be as 'to the point' as physically possible, and two: I'm tired and can't feel my legs. Anyhow, feedback is *always* welcome, so don't hesitate to write me at the address below. I don't know when I'm going to get around to writing the next chapter, but knowing me it won't be long.
-Peach Goddess
confused@crosslink.net
I don't own FF9, Freya, or Amarant, but I did make up characters (I'm *so* surprised I did, I'm usually to lazy to actually make people up.)
I rate this story: R (for Amarant's sailor like cursing)
Written by: Peach Goddess
This chapter started on: 8/28/2001 (I have no life, I finished chapter three and later that day I'm working on chapter four.)
This chapter finished on: 9/7/2001
E-mail address: confused@crosslink.net
"Winding Roads: Chapter 4" (bum-Bum-BUM!)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
They had walked through the twisting hallways for about two hours, Amarant had predicted, before they were both so exhausted that the cold, dusty, stone floor was beginning to look mighty comfortable. By some miracle from some random god they had managed to tap into their energy reserves and get a fire started. Both Freya and Amarant were curled up on the floor on opposite sides of the fire, their arms being used as makeshift pillows because of the lack of something better, the only thing that was even close to them in the hallway was an old broken wagon. Well, it wasn't broken until Amarant smashed off a side and pulled off a wheel to get the fire started. Freya wasn't complaining though, it wasn't her wagon. She had offered Amarant the use of her pack as a pillow; he had declined her offer before rolling over so his back was facing the fire, and her. Deciding it was his loss she rested her head upon pack and then quickly discarded it, mumbling a few choice curses. As it turned out a bag filled with hard objects isn't the most comfortable thing in the world to rest your head on.
Freya, still unable to sleep even though her brain was begging her to find the bluntest object available and beat herself into unconsciousness, finally decided to sit up. She did, although very reluctantly. After she pushed herself into an up-right position Freya looked past the smoldering fire to her traveling companion. He was still sound asleep, the lucky bastard. Her clawed hands began to massage the kinks out of her neck caused by her hour or so of tossing and turning on the hard floor. Her mind began to think about their location, most likely only about half an hour's walk to get through the rest of the Grotto and then only a two hours walk to Burmecia, if they left now they could be there a little after dawn . . . but one on the 'they' was passed out on the floor. Freya wouldn't be getting anymore sleep tonight, she hadn't slept well since . . . no. She wouldn't think about that now, she was barely functioning as it was and Freya didn't need anything more to distract her.
She looked over once more to Amarant before mustering up the strength to stand up again. It wouldn't make any sense for her to just sit there until he woke up, that would just be wasting her valuable time and energy, the latter she was desperately lacking. Amarant wouldn't mind if she went ahead, he would have done the same if the situation was switched, wouldn't he? With her mind made up Freya grabbed her Pike and slung her pack over her shoulder, pausing only to gaze longingly at Amarant again, she was going to miss him. Freya shook her head roughly, it was amazing what lack of sleep could do to you, she would most likely see him in less than a day and already thoughts of him not being there brought cold feelings of loneliness seeping into her skin. Freya breathed a heavy sigh before grabbing the discarded torch off of the ground and stuck it into the fire until the wick caught. From their conversations earlier the Dragoon had learned that by some miracle in his genetics Amarant could see perfectly in the dark, and according to him he sometimes saw better at night than in the day light. Following that revelation Freya had made a crack about his lack of vision being caused by his unruly mop hair that covered most of his face, the joking comment caused them to spring into another round of good-natured bickering.
Her clawed toes made a light scraping sound on the stone floor, although it was hard to hear over Amarant's heavy breathing. She looked down the looming hallway, the torch in her left hand held out threateningly in front of her, silently daring any enemies to try and stop her.
"Well, here I go."
Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, silently begging to be joined by an un-named someone's much larger ones, but the pleas fell to deaf ears, or as this case was, sleeping ones.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Mogita silently slipped through her small custom door, silently praying she wouldn't wake up her sleeping Master. He hated to be woken up. Much to Mogita's surprise her Master wasn't asleep at all, in fact he was very much awake, sitting up straight in his chair with a large green covered book perched on his knee. Even with his hearing going his once sharp ears heard the almost silent squeak of the miniature door as his Mog stepped into the room. He tore his eyes from the book and shut it quickly, obviously not wanting to show what it contained to Mogita. Even though he was upset for being disturbed from his work he plastered a smile on his face and looked down at her with disinterest.
"Yes, Mogita?"
"Master, I was sent from the Minister to aware you of your friend's approach."
Silence wafted through the air.
"How far?," Her Master questioned.
"Just outside of the city, the Look out said about twenty minutes from here."
"And just how long ago was that?"
"Almost ten, I think . . ."
"Do not think, find out."
"Yes Master!"
The small Mog bowed and quickly exited the room, muttering 'Yes, Master' and 'Right away, Master' as quickly as she could. Once her small door slammed shut her Master clenched the book in his lap with both of his hands, the crushed velvet cover worn to shreds in some places, obviously from receiving the kind of treatment it was at that very moment. His claws trailed gently over the leather crest on the front, so worn with time you could barely read the inscription. Barely. The leather was pressed with a family crest; from the intricate detail it was obviously a very old well respected family. The center shield was divided into six even parts, all depicted different symbols and all representing different things about the pure bloodline. His fingers trailed over the most beaten part of the leather, the place where the family's name was pressed. The Family name of Crescent.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Amarant wasn't expecting much when he woke up; at the most maybe breakfast, but he wasn't expecting to wake up well past dawn with Freya missing. He had looked almost frantically for a note or sign of struggle. Finding nothing his logical mind was begging to kick in, even though it was still a bit hazy from the long sleep. He looked around their dark and must campsite, his eyes having adjusted to the dimness long ago, and spied disturbances in the dust that had accumulated there, the dirty floor had made perfect imprints of her feet, four clawed toes and all. Her bag was also gone, as was her Pike and the torch. Then it clicked in the Assassin's brain.
"That sneaky little bitch, she went on without me."
A large booted foot stamped down on the lighten embers, the only thing that remained of the fire that had raged there only hours ago. Amarant snorted as the glow of the ambers died away and the ashes gently glided around, landing on the broken wagon, the ground, and Amarant himself.
"Fine, if she left me she won't be fucking crushed if I go somewhere else, maybe I'll go to Daguerro and scare the shit out of the old men, they're always good for a laugh or two."
It was about then a though struck Amarant.
"Freya still has all the supplies in her bag, the stupid fucking Rat, and then she ran off to Burmecia with em'."
Her turned angrily to glare down the passage Freya had went down. Amarant sighed and shook his head b before he started to follow her footprints in the dust down the twisting hallways and out of Gizamaluke's Grotto.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Have you ever been somewhere that you absolutely loved, only to return and have it be completely different than what you remembered? That was how Freya felt the exact moment she stepped up to the gates of the rain plagued Burmecia. Freya had immediately recognized one of the gaurds on duty by the gate to the city, Pahn Hook, but it was hard not to recognize him with his bright orange hair and platinum fur. He would always stand out in crowds of people; drastically contrasting with the gray and black coloring their kind was usually known for. Freya had waved to Pahn and jogged up to where he was on guard, his face contorting into a look of fear for a moment before falling into one of extreme nervousness. The Dragoon paused and looked behind her curiously her eyes scanning the plains behind her, she spotting nothing and shook of the look he gave her as a sleep deprived hallucination. Freya turned her head back to her friend before resting a friendly hand on his rain-soaked shoulder, patting it roughly in greeting.
"Pahn! It's been a long time my friend! Tell me, how are the wife and kids? All still healthy I hope," Freya smiled. Pahn's eyes darted to her hand, his look of discomfort growing at the friendly contact.
"They are . . . doing well, thank you for your concern, Madam."
A frown found it's way across Freya's once happy face.
"Madam? Don't you recognize me Pahn? It's me Fre-"
"I-I know who you are, they are expecting you at the Court, Madam."
Freya glanced warily at the guard, a bit frightened at his odd behavior. She stepped past her friend, gently hopping over a puddle that formed in one of the dips in the brick road. Freya turned back to her friend with a puzzled look planted firmly on her face.
"Well, tell you family I said hello."
Pahn didn't give a response.
"Bye then . . .," Freya trailed. Pahn finally moved, turning to her and removed his helmet while bowing.
"Madam, good day."
That was the kind of behavior Freya ran into all the way to the Court, old friends being distant, acting strangely polite and distant. As she neared the doors of the large stone building the Burmecian's behavior became even more ridged and polite, the closer Freya drew to the Court the deeper the bows became and they all began to address her as 'Tashii', a Burmecian word for meaning 'Exalted One'.
"Ah, Freya Tashii! We have been expecting you; imagine our shock when Sulli returned without you, we almost sent out a search party!"
Freya turned and looked behind her, glad that someone was engaging her in a conversation but still a bit confused as to why she was treated with so much respect.
"Minister Bullon, it is an honor to see you again," Freya greeted as she deeply bowed. Minister Bullon looked around nervously before pulling her up quickly by her shoulders.
"No need for that anymore, right, Freya Tashii? Come, we must be off many things to do now that you're here, showing you around Court and the such like, yes, much to do."
"No."
"Why ever not Freya Tashii?"
"Because I have absolutely no idea about what's going on here, I have no idea why everyone bows when I pass, or why everyone has been showing me so much respect, that's why!," Freya bellowed. Minister Bullon looked at her with a puzzled look that gave Freya's a run for its money.
"Didn't you read the letter?"
Freya paled a bit, she had forgotten all about the letter.
"No, I'm afraid I didn't," She whispered meekly.
"Than you really have no idea about why you're here, Freya Tashii?"
"No idea what so ever, Minister."
Bullon looked uncertain for a moment, obviously trying to think of a way to break the news as bluntly as possible. He sighed.
"We don't know how to say this, it's a very hard thing to just spring on somebody like this but, well, we are guessing we have no choice. Alright," Bullon sighed, taking in a calming breath " here we go. Freya Tashii, you're the new Queen of Burmecia."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ugh, see what happens when I attempt cliffhangers? This was a very short chapter for a couple of reasons, one: I wanted it to be as 'to the point' as physically possible, and two: I'm tired and can't feel my legs. Anyhow, feedback is *always* welcome, so don't hesitate to write me at the address below. I don't know when I'm going to get around to writing the next chapter, but knowing me it won't be long.
-Peach Goddess
confused@crosslink.net