Ring Bearer - Freya
Title: Ring Bearer
Theme + Number: 11. Thunder, 12. Water
Claim: Freya Crescent
Characters/Pairings included: Zidane, Vivi, Quina
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Summary: Freya leaves Gizmaluke’s alter with more than she bargained for.
Thunder shrieks across the flat, open plains.
Vivi squeaks in response, cowering behind one of the columns framing the grotto. His little body is shaking like brittle leaves caught in a torrent of rain, and he is far more afraid than when they faced Lord Gizmaluke’s serpentine form mere minutes before. Freya, slowly exiting from the inner shadows of the grotto, is too numb to consider the irony.
Lord Gizmaluke. Freya closes her eyes, leans heavily against her lance. The holy waters of the Alexandrian Mountains run free with the blood of the sacred, and Freya shudders at the portents. Darkness taints the memories of the births she has witnessed and the marriages she has celebrated at the foot of these cavernous temples, beneath the slit irises of Gizmaluke’s protective watch. For this murder, she will take the brunt of the consequence-knowing that Zidane was too separate, Vivi too ignorant, and Quina too oblivious to understand what they did. Freya will lose something precious for this-more precious than she will probably be able to bear-and as she looks across the grassy plains and the black, thunderous clouds, toward the glimmer of blue and grey that is the home of her birth, Freya wishes more than ever that Gizmaluke’s mindless thrashings had killed her first.
She knows what lies at the end of their destination-and though Zidane will believe it is Alexandria’s fault, Freya will know that it is nobody’s. And everybody’s.
Freya opens her eyes and looks at Vivi again. Someone should say something comforting to him. She glances at Zidane and sees a dead end; he stands a few feet into the plains, where the rains beat down on him mercilessly. But he feels nothing, hears nothing, even when she tries to call him back. She knows it has less to do with Gizmaluke’s death and more to do with the fact that Dagger has obviously not come this way. She is not sure if she is angry at his selfishness or if she pities him for his weakness.
While Freya is lost in thought, Quina has approached the frightened mage. The Qu says something to him, and then turns to examine the pillar. From the increase in shaking, Freya guesses that what the Qu said was not comforting in the least. And she has a good idea of what the remark was. Freya grimaces, shakes her head, and approaches the pair.
Vivi turns to her swiftly when she gets within speaking distance. “We won’t get struck by lightning, will we?”
Freya’s eyes narrow. “Contrary to popular belief, lightning roasted fiend is not that common and not that tasty.” At the slight relaxation of Vivi’s shoulders, Freya throws a glare at Quina’s back. She’d say a few choice words at the Qu, but knows that it would be beyond pointless.
A particularly loud thunder clap rumbles across the plains, and Vivi jumps, whimpering. Freya blows air heavily through her nostrils.
“Here,” she says, pulling a ring off her finger and holding it out to the mage. She feels a twinge when he delicately takes it from her hand, but she buries it; possessiveness was always her worst trait.
Vivi studies the ring for a moment, then his eyes widen. “I can’t take this,” he whispers. The Thunder Ring gleams brightly as a flash of lightening crosses the sky. “You won it.”
Freya shakes her head. “You need it more now than I do.”
“But…” Vivi hesitates. “What will you have for protection?”
Freya almost disgraces herself by smiling. She catches herself and frowns instead, considering his question seriously.
After a moment, she shrugs. “I don’t think there is anything that can protect me from what lies out there.” She points to the plains and beyond.
To her surprise, Vivi nods. He struggles with sliding the ring over a gloved finger, and after a moment she helps him.
Zidane appears suddenly beside them, drenched to the bone. His expression is resigned. “You ready?”
Vivi pats himself down and straightens his hat. He is still trembling, but only barely. Quina appears beside him, munching on something long and green.
Zidane’s blue eyes pierce her. “Freya?”
She shrugs and brushes him aside as she walks past. “Are you?”
Only the thunder rumbles in answer.
Theme + Number: 11. Thunder, 12. Water
Claim: Freya Crescent
Characters/Pairings included: Zidane, Vivi, Quina
Rating: K+
Warnings: None
Summary: Freya leaves Gizmaluke’s alter with more than she bargained for.
Thunder shrieks across the flat, open plains.
Vivi squeaks in response, cowering behind one of the columns framing the grotto. His little body is shaking like brittle leaves caught in a torrent of rain, and he is far more afraid than when they faced Lord Gizmaluke’s serpentine form mere minutes before. Freya, slowly exiting from the inner shadows of the grotto, is too numb to consider the irony.
Lord Gizmaluke. Freya closes her eyes, leans heavily against her lance. The holy waters of the Alexandrian Mountains run free with the blood of the sacred, and Freya shudders at the portents. Darkness taints the memories of the births she has witnessed and the marriages she has celebrated at the foot of these cavernous temples, beneath the slit irises of Gizmaluke’s protective watch. For this murder, she will take the brunt of the consequence-knowing that Zidane was too separate, Vivi too ignorant, and Quina too oblivious to understand what they did. Freya will lose something precious for this-more precious than she will probably be able to bear-and as she looks across the grassy plains and the black, thunderous clouds, toward the glimmer of blue and grey that is the home of her birth, Freya wishes more than ever that Gizmaluke’s mindless thrashings had killed her first.
She knows what lies at the end of their destination-and though Zidane will believe it is Alexandria’s fault, Freya will know that it is nobody’s. And everybody’s.
Freya opens her eyes and looks at Vivi again. Someone should say something comforting to him. She glances at Zidane and sees a dead end; he stands a few feet into the plains, where the rains beat down on him mercilessly. But he feels nothing, hears nothing, even when she tries to call him back. She knows it has less to do with Gizmaluke’s death and more to do with the fact that Dagger has obviously not come this way. She is not sure if she is angry at his selfishness or if she pities him for his weakness.
While Freya is lost in thought, Quina has approached the frightened mage. The Qu says something to him, and then turns to examine the pillar. From the increase in shaking, Freya guesses that what the Qu said was not comforting in the least. And she has a good idea of what the remark was. Freya grimaces, shakes her head, and approaches the pair.
Vivi turns to her swiftly when she gets within speaking distance. “We won’t get struck by lightning, will we?”
Freya’s eyes narrow. “Contrary to popular belief, lightning roasted fiend is not that common and not that tasty.” At the slight relaxation of Vivi’s shoulders, Freya throws a glare at Quina’s back. She’d say a few choice words at the Qu, but knows that it would be beyond pointless.
A particularly loud thunder clap rumbles across the plains, and Vivi jumps, whimpering. Freya blows air heavily through her nostrils.
“Here,” she says, pulling a ring off her finger and holding it out to the mage. She feels a twinge when he delicately takes it from her hand, but she buries it; possessiveness was always her worst trait.
Vivi studies the ring for a moment, then his eyes widen. “I can’t take this,” he whispers. The Thunder Ring gleams brightly as a flash of lightening crosses the sky. “You won it.”
Freya shakes her head. “You need it more now than I do.”
“But…” Vivi hesitates. “What will you have for protection?”
Freya almost disgraces herself by smiling. She catches herself and frowns instead, considering his question seriously.
After a moment, she shrugs. “I don’t think there is anything that can protect me from what lies out there.” She points to the plains and beyond.
To her surprise, Vivi nods. He struggles with sliding the ring over a gloved finger, and after a moment she helps him.
Zidane appears suddenly beside them, drenched to the bone. His expression is resigned. “You ready?”
Vivi pats himself down and straightens his hat. He is still trembling, but only barely. Quina appears beside him, munching on something long and green.
Zidane’s blue eyes pierce her. “Freya?”
She shrugs and brushes him aside as she walks past. “Are you?”
Only the thunder rumbles in answer.