#garnet til alexandros xvii | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rune-writes · 6 months

Text

Deception

Fandom: Final Fantasy IX

Word count: 1998

Rating: G

Characters: Beatrix & Garnet

Summary: Ten years in the past, Beatrix became privy to one of Alexandria's most vital secret: that the Princess Garnet til Alexandros XVII was not, in fact, the princess.

Read on AO3.

~*~*~*~*~*~

It was a closely guarded secret within the royal palace that Her Royal Highness the Princess Garnet til Alexandros XVII was not, in fact, the real princess. Only a handful of people knew. The King and Queen, of course, as they had been the ones who had ordered the removal of the girl’s horn. The royal physician, who had examined the girl as she’d lain unconscious for weeks and subsequently removed the horn. Then there was the General, who had found the Queen on the pier one morning as she’d cradled the girl’s unconscious body to her bosom. Still distraught after her daughter’s death, Queen Brahne had readily accepted the girl as her own.

Beatrix had only been a knight then, not yet risen to her position as General of the Alexandrian Army. An ambitious one at that, coming from a lesser noble family whose only wish was to see her succeed in life. What more could she ask when she landed herself a position as a royal knight. Even at the tender year of seventeen, her fighting prowess was second to none—barring the General herself—who’d seen fit to train the young prodigy after her innate talent became known. So it was at the heels of the General that Beatrix often found herself following, from trainings at the barracks to meetings at the royal chambers.

It was during one of these meetings—or perhaps on the way to such a meeting—that Beatrix and the General found the Queen in the royal pier with a bundle cradled to her chest.

The General stopped in her tracks, her conversation with Beatrix ceasing. She stepped toward the path.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted with a salute.

The blue-skinned queen regarded her with a flick of her eyes before her gaze dropped to the bundle in her arms. She tucked at the linen, her finger brushing something inside before her lips pulled into a frown.

“Your Majesty, may I ask why you are at the pier so early in the morning?” the General asked.

“She has a fever,” the Queen murmured. “That won’t do. Come, let us call on the physician.”

In a flurry of silk and gown, the Queen made her way back up the stone steps, gaze never looking back even as she called to them to keep up.

By all accounts, Beatrix shouldn’t even be there, but the moment they arrived at the Queen’s chambers, she had been ushered in along with the General. The Queen had ordered only the physician to attend to her, and so it was the four of them in the huge room. The Queen set the bundle on her bed, slowly unraveling the linen to reveal a girl, barely six years old, curled against the white sheet and shivering.

“Doctor, may you see if she is ill?” the Queen said.

Beatrix watched from afar as the physician, a lean man with average height and long strands of fair hair tied neatly at the base of his head, bent down to examine the girl. Her damp black hair hung in dirty clumps and her brown smock bore no resemblance to any local clothing Beatrix had seen. Then she spotted a horn protruding from her forehead. Very uncanny.

“By the Gods,” the General gasped. She’d taken a full look at the girl, her attention shifting to her queen.

Intrigued, Beatrix took a few steps forward, stopping behind and to the right of her general. The physician was still bent down, but when he finally stood and brushed the black bangs back, Beatrix felt her own breath caught in her throat.

“Your Majesty,” her general began, caution and disbelief thick in her voice.

“How is she, doctor?” Queen Brahne asked.

“Mark of a fever and malnutrition, but otherwise not much worse for the wear,” the physician said, turning to face her. “I could keep her at the infirmary for the time being until we locate her family—”

“No.” The reply came too quick; the Queen cleared her throat. “That won't be necessary.” Then she added, “The girl will stay in my chambers, and if the King is willing, occupy the rooms upstairs.”

Eyes flashed at the decisive announcement, both from the General and the physician as they shared stunned glances.

“So until then, you may treat her here. Do not bring your assistants until I say otherwise.”

The physician pursed his lips, then bowed his head. “Very well, Your Majesty.”

“The King will need to be told about this.” Her gaze shifted to the General. “No one is to enter the room while I am gone,” was all she said before she turned with a flourish of her gown and disappeared out the door.

Silence fell. The physician cast a rueful glance at the General before sighing and announcing he would prepare medicine and bring his equipment forthwith. Beatrix was left alone with the General, who looked at the girl with brows drawn even as she approached, her usually determined gait hesitant until she reached the foot of the bed. Beatrix followed, feeling a foreboding at the memory of the General and physician’s uneasy glances, yet at the same time perturbed by the uncanny resemblance the girl had with the little princess who was, as far as she knew, sleeping peacefully upstairs: from the small round face to the clumps of black hair, albeit skinnier, no doubt, and horned.

As though just remembering Beatrix’s presence, the General whirled around and closed the distance between them in quick strides. The fierceness with which she hissed her order set the already disturbed bells ringing in her mind:

“Speak nothing of this!”

There was nothing Beatrix could do but nod in compliance.

***

When Beatrix saw the body of the little princess taken from her bedchambers, then in its place lay the little girl from the pier, she realized she’d come to be privy of the kingdom’s most vital secret. She’d been sworn to secrecy. No one should know of this. Her jaws tightened when the physician sheared the horn from the girl’s soft skin. The girl had screamed in her sleep, the pain not enough to wake her from her delirious fever, even as blood trickled from the gash in her forehead. It made Beatrix sick, but she kept her ground, her face carefully schooled into indifference.

The next several weeks passed by in a blur. The late winter sun shone bright on an empty, cloudless sky, yet its heat could barely penetrate their armor. Beatrix stood on the courtyard, sword drawn out, hardly breaking a sweat as she faced Adelbert Steiner in a duel, already long drawn-out. It should have been finished minutes ago, and judging from Steiner’s heaving chest and sweat-covered brow—despite the cool sun—the taller and stockier knight was barely hanging on. Quite commendable, seeing as his opponent was the undefeatable Beatrix. But she would put an end to this. Steiner’s shoulders had sagged from her barrage of attacks, slightly but noticeable enough, and that would be his weakness. The exhaustion had settled in. His movements would be sluggish. A quick thrust to the chest or his side would immediately topple him. Or if he could somehow dodge that, she’d swerve and swipe at his leg instead. And then she would win.

The image was imprinted in her mind and muscles. Beatrix adjusted her grip on her sword. Steiner’s jaw tightened, readying for the attack. She thrust—

“Your highness!”

The high-pitched shriek tore Beatrix’s concentration apart. Her speed faltered at the last second, long enough for Steiner to step aside and swipe his sword at her side. She fell to her knees; Steiner’s blade right up against her neck. Cheers erupted from his side of the circle. His usually stern face broke into a grin of feral delight. Beatrix scowled—she should’ve won, she’d calculated it perfectly—but she was above being petty over an irrefutable defeat. Swallowing past her irritation, she looked over her shoulder, seeking the source of distress: a woman in dark purple robes Beatrix recognized as the late princess’s governess was flapping her arms in the air on the terrace leading inside the castle, the muscles around her cheeks and jaws drawn back against the shock. She caught sight of a fluttering of silk by the balustrade, strands of ebony hair, before she heard the loud splash, and the entire envoy broke into yells.

Beatrix was upon the pond in moments, well before the rest of the knights realized what had happened. The governess ran down the stairs, along with a handful of handmaids, footmen, and of course, the ever-present royal physician and his assistant hard on her heels. The princess was sprawled on the pond, knee-deep in water. When Beatrix reached the edge, the princess—or rather, the girl posing as her—blinked at her. Dark beady eyes set in a soft, round face; a faint mark on her forehead was the only remnant where a horn should have been. Tears slowly welled in her eyes and her cries pierced the ground.

Before the governess and her retinue reached her side, Beatrix had already stepped into the water. She crouched beside the girl. “Are you alright, Princess?” she asked, but the girl only cried. Beatrix checked her knees, her legs, her body. Besides the soaked dress and a scrape on her knee, the girl was utterly fine. It was the shock, perhaps. So, taking care not to make sudden movements, Beatrix held the girl’s hands and coaxed her to stand. “Come, let’s get you out of the freezing water.”

Apparently, the princess had finally awoken the previous night with no memory as to what had transpired before her deep slumber. The physician had assigned it to the heavy illness muddling her brain. No one questioned it, but Beatrix knew better. She met the physician’s glance briefly before his gaze slid away.

In a bid to jog her memory, they’d attempted to take the princess around the castle. When the view of the central courtyard with its cobbled paving and frost-covered shrub had mesmerized her and she’d stepped too close to the balustrade, her small body had easily slipped through the gaps.

“We’ll need to get you changed lest you catch a cold,” the governess said with a dramatic flutter of her hands to scurry the princess and her entourage back to her bedchambers.

Through her shivering and chattering of teeth, the girl looked up from her bangs and locked eyes with Beatrix. It was uncanny to see those similar brown eyes in that same round face but knowing they hosted a different soul from the one she’d known and vowed to protect for the past five years. But the girl did not know; neither did the rest of the kingdom. Was it for the best? Beatrix couldn’t help the pang in her heart when she thought of the real princess in the morgue, lying silent and forgotten without so much as a royal funeral.

The girl bobbed her head, a little smile parting her lips. “Thank you.”

Her voice was different, softer, with a lilt that hinted at a songstress. Beatrix straightened and bowed deep at the waist.

“I serve to protect Your Highness.”

The governess bowed her thanks, then ushered the girl up the stairs in her dripping dress, the handmaids fussing over the little figure. Once they’d disappeared inside, Beatrix turned to find the other knights had gathered behind her in a loose semicircle. Steiner stood at the forefront, the hard lines of his face softening in a breath of relief.

“It is good to find the princess hale and whole,” he murmured.

Another pang in her heart. Beatrix glanced over her shoulder at the empty castle door, feeling her jaws tightening and releasing within a heartbeat. There was no going back. This little girl who’d drifted to their shores would be the princess they were sworn to protect. Giving a silent prayer to the body buried in the morgue, Beatrix nodded her assent.

“It is.”

~ END ~

#final fantasy ix #ff9 #ffix #garnet #beatrix #garnet til alexandros xvii #garnet ff9 #beatrix ff9 #final fantasy 9 #final fantasy #fanfiction #ff fanfic #ff9 fanfic

6 notes · View notes