I personally thought both Freya and Amarant were underdeveloped characters, and I liked them both so much. They are very similar in many ways, which is seen in their conversations in Treno and in the way they hang out together in the game, even though Freya tends to be a little more social than Amarant. Their respective personalities make them likely to be friends.
The setting here is basically a few months after the game’s ending.
PERSISTENCE OF MEMORY (Part One)
By Kate
* * *
The ruins of Burmecia were eerily quiet.
It was like seeing the ghost of a former empire, or seeing a once-powerful ruler brought down to shame. Nothing was alive in the broken city, nothing moved, nothing breathed – except for the dark, demi-human shape that stood at its crumbled gates.
Freya’s steps echoed hollowly in the empty, rainy streets. Burmecia was as damp as it had always been. She remembered playing in the streets as a child, laughing and making up games, but even then it had always rained.
She wasn’t sure why she had come. It seemed like everyone else had someone. Even Vivi had the black mages, even Eiko had her moogles. Freya herself had no one but someone who failed to even remember her. Sure, some of her people had lived, but most of them were gone. She felt extinct. Garnet had been kind enough to let her live in Alexandria Castle for a while, but Freya had no idea what she would do after her welcome wore out.
Her claws scratched against the ground as she came to the front of what had once been the castle. Involuntarily, she raised her spear, and picked her way over the debris to get inside. She wanted to see the royal palace once again, even if it was only a shadow of its former self.
Not like it had been on the day she had finally been knighted.
*
Freya exhaled quietly as the King’s spear finally came to rest on her shoulder. It was what made it all real, really. Everything came into a different view, and she was now a different person.
She could hear the whispers of the women in the court around her, but they weren’t spiteful, not today. The past weeks of criticism and outrage were forgotten. She was a dragon knight at seventeen years of age. The first female dragon knight of Burmecia.
The King touched his spear to the two young men knelt beside her, and then the music started up. Everyone started to dance the traditional that celebrated knighthood. Freya stood back, spear in hand, and watched them, a little cocky smile touching her face.
"Hey, Lady Freya … I suppose I should call you that now. Congratulations."
Freya turned around to see Sir Fratley bowing in front of her in a mock pose, offering a her small bouquet of Cleyran lilies. She smiled and would have blushed if that weren’t unbecoming behaviour for a genuine dragon knight. Instead, she went over to him and wrapped him into a hug. "Thanks, Fratley."
*
Now Fratley didn’t even remember it.
She shook her head, casting the memory aside, as she came to the ruined palace. Its walls had once gleamed white and gold, secure as one of the three reigning powers of the Mist Continent. Freya told herself not to be angry as she went inside.
She touched the battered throne and felt strangely like crying. The floors were still spattered with blood and was startled to realize that some of it was probably her own, dried and dark-colored. From the time they had fought Beatrix here, the first time she had ever laid eyes on Kuja.
"What are you doing?"
Fratley’s voice, like a small child’s, uncertain and tinny. She sighed and answered him without turning around. "I told you to wait near the gate."
"Sorry, Freya," he said contritely.
Freya turned and offered him a watery smile. She felt suddenly guilty, like she had slapped him. He was stronger than she, certainly, and he definitely looked imposing – but his inability to remember had rendered him somewhat childlike. She was afraid to treat him as she had before, and wound up treating him like a baby. It seemed like the cruelest tragedy of all. To be forgotten.
"You’re right," she said abruptly. "Come on, we’ll go back to Alexandria."
* * *
Zidane was having a hard time keeping a straight face.
Watching the play was bad enough, but seeing Garnet cringe in amused distaste made it even more hilarious. Ruby had written the short show, and it wasn’t bad material, but it was sneakingly familiar. And Lowell’s performance was atrocious. The actor’s overblown personality didn’t fit his character of a supposed thief after a princess’ heart. Zidane smirked knowingly at Garnet and placed his hand over hers on the table. Ruby had never been very creative.
The cast came out to take their bows. Zidane and Garnet stood up and clapped with the rest of the people in the audience.
Ruby came up to them with breathless anticipation. "What did ya think?" she asked.
"It was very good," Garnet said politely.
"Yeah," Zidane nodded. "But … ah … Ruby, did you think of that story all on your own?"
"Sure did!" Ruby grinned.
Zidane smiled back and chuckled a bit. "That’s what I thought."
"And, uh, Zidane?" Ruby pressed on.
"Uh-huh?"
She was direct. "Tell yer friend Blank to smarten up an’ get over to see me." Ruby left them in order to gauge the reactions of another couple at a nearby table. Zidane shook his head and watched his friend admiringly.
Garnet tugged lightly on his sleeve. "Zidane, come on. Let’s get going."
His head snapped around in a heartbeat. "All right."
They left the theater hand-in-hand. Zidane was trying to steer Garnet to the docks, where the stars would be coming out, but Garnet seemed to be content with watching the people go by, seeing the merchants shout and the children playing. At first it had been strange for the people to see their queen walking amongst them, but they had grown accustomed to it and now they waved at her as she walked by.
Alexandria itself was looking much better. The castle had been rebuilt, and, although parts it were still crumbled and unadorned, it was almost like it had been. Most of the shops were re-opened, and the innkeeper had even managed to expand his limited space during the reconstruction.
Zidane was admiring just how much work had been done on the city when a group of men came running out of the alleyway near Ruby’s theater. Dashing a few feet in front of them was a familiar-looking man, with a flame-red shock of hair. Amarant.
"Bloody cheat!" shouted one man.
"I’ll teach ya!" yelled another.
Yet another angry man ran half-drunk into Zidane and nearly knocked him over. Zidane jumped into the fray, fists raised. He was partly wondering why Amarant was being chased by a posse of furious drunks, but mostly just trying to impress Garnet. "You’ll have to fight me, too!" he shouted. Amarant slowed and stopped beside his friend, a rare expression of surprise marking his face.
The men poked each other, mumbling discontentedly. "We’ll let it go this time," one said with a snarl, "but ya better not show yer face ‘round here for a while. Ya got lots to fear if ya do."
"I’ll be sure to remember that," Amarant replied sardonically.
"Yeah, well … ya do that," the man said lamely. A few others shook their fists, but the twin threat of Zidane and Amarant was enough to send them away.
When the streets were clear, Amarant turned to Zidane. "Thank you," he said, brushing himself off with ease. "I’d have hated to have to kill all of them."
"Uh, yes." Zidane blinked momentarily. "What was that all about?"
Amarant shrugged. "They – unwisely – decided to play me at cards. When they lost all their gil, they decided that I must have been cheating and started after me. When they sober up, it should just be another lesson learned."
"I see," Zidane said. With alarm, he realized that Amarant had begun to walk away from them. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"Nowhere that concerns you."
"Stay with us for a while," Garnet called after him. "I mean, we haven’t seen you since Memoria, really. You can’t just show up for a few seconds and leave."
"Really," Amarant said dryly.
Garnet frowned. "Don’t be sarcastic," she admonished him. "Come on. You don’t have anywhere else to go. Zidane and I will be happy to have you around, and I’m sure that Steiner, Eiko, and Freya will, too."
"Steiner, Eiko, and Freya?"
"They’re all in Alexandria, too."
"Where are Vivi and Quina?" Amarant wanted to know.
"Vivi went to stay with the mages for a while," Zidane interjected. "And Quina … we don’t know. Probably experimenting with new and interesting ways to bring on severe nausea." He smiled.
"Come on," Garnet urged. "Will you stay?"
Amarant thought for a moment, then his face softened slightly. "Only for a few days," he conceded.
* * *
It was past midnight when Freya and Fratley made it back to Alexandria. The two guards at the gate, both Knights of Pluto, helped them to rope their chocobos. Otherwise, the night was still and peaceful.
Freya was thinking. Seeing the ruins of Burmecia once again had cut into her more deeply than she would ever let anyone know. She glanced sideways at Fratley, walking beside him, and laced her hands in front of her, trying to remain emotionless.
"Are you all right?" Fratley asked.
"Yes. I only wanted to see my home city again."
"Was it sad?"
Freya saw no reason to lie. "Yes."
Fratley nodded. "That is understandable." He walked on for a few more steps in silence, but Freya could sense a question lingering unspoken between them. "What are we going to do now?" Fratley asked.
"I … I suppose we should concentrate on you."
"How so?"
Her jaw was set in determination. There were no other goals. She needed someone else, someone who had grown up with her in Burmecia and would be able to remind her of the good times. "To help you remember."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him smile. "How do you suppose we do that? We do not even know why I have no memory in the first place."
"I know that," she snapped.
"So …?"
"We’ll have to try. I know someone who might be able to help us," she added, thinking of Doctor Tot.
They came to the castle and were let in by two of Beatrix’s soldiers. In the front hallway, Freya and Fratley parted ways, heading to their separate rooms, without saying another word to each other. Freya was painfully aware of the tension between them, and knew Fratley felt it, too. Neither of them knew how to act around each other.
She started up towards her own room, head turned downwards, lost in thought. She would contact Doctor Tot in the morning. The man would surely have some advice for her, even if he could tell her nothing else.
"Hello, Freya."
The voice was a low rumble, one she recognized instantly. She looked up to see Amarant leaning against the bannisters, arms folded across his chest. She stopped and grinned at her friend. "Hey, Amarant … what you doing here?"
He lifted his hands briefly, then folded them again. "Garnet and Zidane invited me to stay. I accepted."
"Oh. What have you been doing since … you know?"
"Not much. Making money."
Freya shook her head. "I won’t ask how. It’s wiser that way."
"Probably." Amarant tilted his head up to look at her. "And what about you?"
"I’ve been here in Alexandria."
"Doing what?" he asked.
She leaned back beside him and appraised his face carefully. "Mostly thinking. I don’t know what to do now. When I was young, I spent my life working towards becoming a dragon knight. Then I dedicated myself to searching for Fratley. Then, finally, I decided to help Zidane and the rest in order to avenge Burmecia. But now …"
"You feel as if you have no purpose," Amarant finished.
"Yeah, maybe."
Amarant shifted. "Well … you know … if you ever …"
Freya smiled whitely. It was funny to see Amarant speak with anything but arrogance. "If I need help, I’ll come to you," she finished for him.
"Yes."
She was suddenly struck by a thought. "Will you come with me to Treno in the morning? I’m taking Fratley to see Doctor Tot."
Amarant nodded. "Better than being stuck here."
*
Well, that’s it for now. The next part should be along soon. I have most of story planned out, but I can take some little suggestions (as always). Hope you liked it!