Beatrix's Curls

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy IX, or any of the characters there within.

Steiner pulled the big chestnut curl through his index finger again, watching in satisfaction as it sprang back into place. The lock coiled and bobbed over itself before resettling amongst its fellows. His impish smile had yet to dissipate for the game.

He had already lost track how many times he'd pulled that particular curl, never mind the ones just above and below it, relishing the smooth, silky strands as they wound almost lovingly around his digits. The one he teased now certainly bounced the best, or so he figured. He couldn't reach the others pinned beneath one marble shoulder to test them properly.

His eyes took in the form before him again. Standard issue sheets hugged to the lithe body at rest before him, sleeping peacefully despite Steiner's devious recreation.

Steiner paused. Did he see a twitch? No, the woman was still blissfully unaware of the knight's silly amusement.

Suppressing a smile, Steiner reached again for the curl, coiling it around his finger before gently pulling it straight to releas—

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

Steiner yelped and started so violently that all of the brown curls bounced at once. The voice that caught him off guard sounded wide-awake and aware of countless hair-pullings.

"O-Oh! I thought you were asleep, Beatrix."

The knight drew his guilty hand back and pulled the sheets higher, feeling suddenly exposed for being caught. The mattress still quaked after his surprise outburst.

"I was."

"I apologize for disturbing you." Steiner said sheepishly. The woman beside him sighed, but not with anger.

In a languid twist, Beatrix rolled over on top of Steiner, allowing the man a brief glimpse of the view he had enjoyed the night prior before she settled on his broad chest. Her unique physique, a combination of hard, muscled edges and soft curves, sent a small tremor up his spine. She peered out the tiny window at the gray dawn and Steiner had to fight the urge to kiss her neck. A small grunt rumbled in Beatrix's throat.

"I'm going back to sleep, if you can keep your hands to yourself." She began to sink back to the mattress when Steiner's hands caught her waist. The general blinked at him, one eyebrow raised a fraction at his interception. Steiner's eyes roved over the woman's face. The cover she normally wore when facing the world had only recently been coaxed from its permanent residence to reveal the angry scar over her blinded right eye. The lid rested halfway over a faint blue iris long clouded by damage as though staring in disinterest. Her fathomless maroon eye seemed to gauge Steiner's preoccupation and glazed over; a dulled anxiety hovering there for the wound that lay bare after so many years of concealment.

Steiner thought it odd the general bore almost no qualm shedding her other vestments, but removing the scrap of cloth caused her such uncertainty. It was almost as though she felt more stripped bare without the patch than lying unclothed beside him.

He still remembered that night.

"Do you ever remove it?"

Steiner sat at the edge of his bed, removing his armored boots; Beatrix stood across from him, unbuckling her thick belt. The stillness that followed his query made him look up.

"When the need calls for it." Beatrix answered as though trying to deflect a curious new recruit from unwelcome prying. Steiner bit his lip at the faint edge in her voice and busied himself with unbuckling his cuirass. Though their relationship had blossomed like the steady bloom of a rose, it had not been until many months later they coupled. Steiner had planned for all those months. Planned and schemed to set up a romantic evening to show his affections for the general, but that fateful evening he'd prepared the encounter in the North Tower, Beatrix appeared, took one glance over the scattered rose petals, strode past the table of fine wine, candles and literature and crushed Steiner's mouth with her own. So it was amid wide eyes and weak inquiries that Beatrix made her intentions quite clear.

Though duty often inhibited their engagements, each rare meeting became richer than the last.

But Beatrix never removed her eye patch.

And he'd made the mistake of asking why.

He stole a glance at the general, who had long since stopped over the clasps of her jacket to stare out the window. Fearing he had introduced some discord, an idea struck him.

Steiner hastily removed his pauldrons, couters, and fauld, becoming clumsier with the knots as Beatrix's head turned in his direction, until finally his entire torso was exposed. A knowing kink twisted one corner of his lips at the long scar that divided his chest from his abdomen. The raised scar tissue looked stretched and worn; an injury harkening of an old childhood wound aged over decades.

"You've seen this." Steiner began almost conversationally to his companion's furrowed brow. "But only two people know of its origin. Myself, and the man who gave it to me."

"You were fortunate to be born just after the conflict between Alexandria and Burmecia, Beatrix. It was a bloody war. My family came from a line of farmers plowing the outskirts of Alexandria. I don't remember what we grew, or how long my family had tilled the land, but I do remember my friend Rudolf from the neighboring homestead. Good lad, bit of a troublemaker. He loved to put oglops down the back of my shirt." Steiner rubbed the back of his neck at the itchy memory. Beatrix watched him in silence.

"That day the Burmecian's attacked all the plantations on the north side, I was out in the field with Rudolf catching bugs. We heard screams and looked up to see smoke rising from the houses. I remember looking over at Rudolf and seeing the terror in his face. We ran back to our houses, the fire had already begun to spread to the wagon and crops, black smoke poured out the doors and windows. I ran inside, desperate to find my parents. The smoke and the heat were terrible, I couldn't see, I couldn't breathe.

"I finally stumbled into the master bedroom to see a Burmecian standing over my parents. Both lying on the ground; blood soaking my mother's favorite rugs. I think I screamed. All I remember was the soldier spinning around and the tip of his lance tearing my stomach. It hurt." Steiner hand unconsciously went to the scar. His eyes scrunched up as he peered deeper into the past. "The odd thing was, the Burmecian looked afraid. He didn't finish me off, didn't injure me again, he just stared at me in…disbelief. Then jumped up through the hole in our roof and I collapsed. I was five years old.

"I don't know how long I lay there bleeding and choking from the blaze. It felt like an eternity. Suddenly an Alexandrian soldier appeared and dragged me out of death's hands. Out of the room where my parents lay slain, out of the burning house and to the city walls. He gave me one of his potions to drink, clapped my shoulder, and told me I'd be all right. I remember his shining armor and sword, the feather in his helmet; he was a brusque and confident man.

'Who are you?' I asked.

'Brenten Lesartide, Captain of the Pluto Knights. And you, are one lucky lad. Keep fighting the good fight. TEN HO!'

"He disappeared into the foray again and the gate guard ushered me inside the castle walls. But his courage stayed with me and I knew then I wanted to be a soldier. I wanted to protect Alexandria and her citizens from our enemies."

Steiner looked up again at Beatrix with a small smile, the declaration a mutual resonating chord between them. She watched him from the window with an expression that had softened considerably. Emboldened, Steiner went on.

"I took up the sword as soon as I was able and joined the Army at sixteen, swearing to become captain of the guard detail that saved my life. I was angry a long time for my loss, my weaknesses, until the Knights of Pluto taught me the virtues of duty. Loyalty. Courage." The knight stood from the edge of his bed, the tips of his fingers touching the lower end of his scar. "This scar gave me reason; not as compunction of what I could not save, but the compulsion to protect my fellows, defend my kingdom, and serve my country. This scar, once bane, has become my pride."

Steiner let his hand fall to his side, now his turn to study Beatrix from across the room. They stood in silence, Beatrix's good eye flickering between Steiner's and the score across his torso. In a heartbeat, the woman pushed off the wall and closed the distance between them. Steiner didn't know what to expect—a kiss? A slap? He stood rooted to the spot.

Beatrix stopped a breath from him, shut her eye, and reached up, unfastening the hidden clasp to her eyepiece beneath her hair. The cloth fell away and the woman raised her eyes to meet both of Steiner's. His gaze drank in the mystery finally laid bare before him. He decided the frayed blemish was the most elegant scar he had ever seen.

That had been two weeks ago.

Two weeks since they had had a moment to themselves.

It was like seeing her scar for the first time again.

Before he could stop himself Steiner cupped Beatrix's cheek, gently running his calloused thumb over the ragged scar below her right eye. Her left eyelid fluttered at the touch, the sensation still new and raw. Her eye flickered in that vaguely hesitant gaze, trying to discern his meaning.

The knight smiled at her, unable to voice his thoughts of the bravery of her sacrifice, the daring to expose her vulnerability; to choose him as confidant of this most hallowed of secrets.

"You're beautiful." He finally mustered.

Beatrix blinked at him.

Steiner, who spent more and more time in Beatrix's company, had gradually grown accustomed to the minute changes in the woman's expression. He saw the subtle quirk of an eyebrow, the doubtful crease in one corner of her lips, and instantly knew he had not correctly articulated his thoughts.

He and his bumbling ways had ruined the moment.

The woman gave her head a light toss as though to rid herself the last vestiges of sleep and her chestnut tresses bounded over her naked shoulders. Steiner craved to tug at the elusive bobs that Beatrix had inconveniently slept on.

"Flattery will not excuse your behavior," she warned. "I was sleeping quite fitfully before something caught my hair. Several times."

"I…it was only…maybe once or twi—"

"I lost count after twenty-three."

Steiner blanched.

"Y-You were awake that long? Why didn't you stop me?" Steiner asked candidly, an embarrassed red tint climbing up his neck.

"I mistakenly thought you would tire of it."

The knight cringed at his own folly and ruefully chastised himself for being caught. He placed one hand over his heart in an old chivalrous gesture.

"I sincerely apologize for waking you from a restful sleep." He said, then pursed his lips. "But had I known you were awake, I could have found a much better activity to occupy the both of us."

The barest of smiles curled Beatrix's lips at his implication, but she drew no attention to the response she had inadvertently stirred in him. Instead, the woman hummed and drew her pink nails over Steiner's sternum, much like a cat stretches and retracts her claws. His skin tingled at her touch.

"What am I ever going to do with you, Steiner?"

The knight grinned as he swept a large palm to caress the small of her back.

"What indeed, my lady?"

"I'm still debating a proper penalty for disturbing an Army officer without due course." Steiner's smile faltered. Beatrix shifted her hips, awakening Steiner's desire for her with ludicrous ease. "Most soldiers pull double guard duty, but you don't find guard duty a chore so I feel that won't be a suitable sentence."

The woman cracked her spin with a deliberate arc of her back. Years of doggedly avoiding the woman's cleavage around the castle crumbled in seconds. Sweat beaded on Steiner's brow.

"Perhaps I could have you deliver messages for the week, but that's part of your regular regiment these days. Hmm."

Beatrix's breasts brushed against Steiner's chest. A mild look of amusement flickered over her face as Steiner struggled to contain the blood rushing ever southward.

"What sort of punishment awaits a sleep-depriving rabble rouser?" she asked him. When Steiner didn't answer right away, Beatrix purposely pressed her hips up into his, eliciting a deep groan from the knight. "What was that?" she asked in that silkily dangerous tone of hers.

"B-Bea—"

"Speak up."

Another sultry grind of her hips into his and Steiner couldn't stand it anymore. He erupted from the sheets, wresting hold of the woman's waist, forcing her to remember that he still had the sheer muscle to overpower her when her teasing went too far.

Or so he thought.

Steiner blinked several times in confusion.

He should have been on top by now, but instead, Beatrix straddled him.

Somewhere in the (pathetic) tussle, the general had managed to pin one of Steiner's arms under him, the other drawn across his chest and pinned at the wrist by her knee, one slender forearm thrust into his windpipe, forcing his chin up.

He had forgotten that even unarmed, Beatrix was still a formidable and extremely nimble warrior.

"Captain Adelbert Steiner!" Steiner's arm twitched to salute despite himself. "Did you just attempt to assault a senior ranking officer?"

"N-No—yes—NO sir, ma'am!"

"Well, soldier, you just earned yourself ten laps around the castle grounds void of armor. No sense waking up the rest of the castle with your clanking." Steiner secretly marveled at how easily Beatrix snapped back into the general persona. Even while pinning him nude, she was no less fearsome in form or command. "Do I make myself clear, captain?" she barked.

Steiner jerked to salute and failed a second time.

"YES, MA'AM!"

The morning watch jumped at their post two turrets over.

The pressure moved off of his throat and Steiner looked up at a more demure Beatrix, still unsure if he was in the presence of the general or his lover. The woman gracefully settled back onto the knight's broad chest as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Steiner gulped when her face filled his view.

"Well then, Steiner, you can start your laps," Beatrix leaned so that her curls brushed his face and her lips brushed his ear, "once I'm through with you."

Author's Note: Beatrix wasn't kidding. Steiner ran his laps fifteen minutes later in his cotton shirt and shorts twittering like a bird.

I recently played FFIX for the first time already biased toward Beatrix because I'd read so many articles comparing her to Quistis Trepe from FFVIII. With that endorsement, Beatrix was golden-and quickly went platinum when I found out just how much of a badass she is. She's easily my favorite character of the game, though I wish she had had just a little more development. While I still feel her relationship with Steiner was built a bit rushed, it was cute. And I get stupid for old-fashioned romance. Hence, this story idea bit me and wouldn't let go. If I were around Alexandria, I would seek out and tug one of Beatrix's curls and just accept the sword thrust through my gut after.

I tried to conform to the FFIX Ultimania timeline as much as possible, but took some liberties despite it. According to the Ultimania guide, Steiner became a war orphan at 5 and HE created the Knights of Pluto. But for the sake of this story, I felt it would have more impact if Steiner was saved by a Pluto knight-a captain no less. Something to aspire to. I rarely write from a male's perspective, so I sincerely hope I pulled his fierce yet doe-eyed antics off right. (Bonus points if you can figure out what makes the previous captain's name so special.) I considered writing this from Beatrix's point of view, but...she scares me! She's a particularly complex character whom I struggled with to wriggle into her head, again, due to her limited screentime/dialogue. But she is a challenge I hope to write for the next FFIX fic! Wish me luck!

So seeing as this game is more than...lordy, a decade old!, if you did read-please leave a review! Thank you!

Blackfire 18