t h e . l i t t l e s t . t h i n g s

Princess Garnet Til Alexandros 17th, heir to the throne of Alexandria and current royal-on-the-run, groveled despairing inside the tatty, patched up tent and considered the predicament in which she found herself.

She could admit now that, despite carefully plotting her ploy to flee her home (and that promptly going to the pot thanks to Tantalus), she had only considered the larger aspects of running away. Like, where she would go, whom she would speak to, how she would get there. Little things like this had never crossed her mind, and yet it was this particular littlest thing that frustrated her most.

Garnet, sitting amidst a snarl of patchwork blankets, naked from waist up, scowled at her corset and huffed most indignantly. It had never occurred to her while wrestling to remove the stubborn article to bathe, how exactly she would get said article back on. Being a princess, she had never put on and laced a corset (that was what ladies-in-waiting were for) and she highly doubted that someone of her stature would be able to don the thing properly. If it was not correctly laced it would be loose and most uncomfortable.

Being a girl is rather tiresome, she contemplated to herself, fingering the hard boning sewn into the undergarment.

For a moment, she briefly considered not wearing the thing, but decided it would be highly inappropriate – not to mention impractical – to commence battle with no means of restraining one's breasts.

There was simply no choice. She would have to ask for help, and as soon as they reached Lindblum she would purchase a simple slip to wear beneath her clothes instead.

But who to ask? There were no females in the group. Vivi was far too young, and Garnet highly doubted he would know how to lace a corset anyway. Steiner? No. He would bumble and falter and embarrass them both.

That left one person.

She laughed nervously to herself, but it died quickly in her throat when a pinkish hue crept into her cheeks.

Surely he would not know how to lace a garment as complex and intimate as a lady's corset? But, she reasoned with herself, he was a lowly thief: an actor to boot. Maybe he had had dealings with such attire in his plays? Or in a lady's chamber…

The blush spread quickly and Garnet pushed the unclean thoughts far from her mind. Despite being unruly and mannerless, he would surely understand her predicament and comply? He was not a bad person after all.

But then, what if he took advantage of her? Pinned her down and had his way?

No. He may be a thief, but it is not his way, the princess concluded firmly.

Sighing, she gathered the corset about her chest and pressed it firmly against her in an attempt to conceal her dignity. She shuffled forward, loose hair shivering around her face, and unbuckled the entrance to the tent.

Outside, it was still early morning and the chill laced the air like frosting on a cake. Spiderwebs were peppered with dewdrops and the plain on which they camped stretched out in all directions.

Vivi slept close by, his little face hidden by his giant hat. He murmured incoherently in his sleep. Steiner slept closest ('for protection against that heathen!' he had bellowed before promptly falling asleep), snoring louder than a Zaghnol.

Annoyingly, Zidane Tribal slept the furthest, the other side of the remains of a fire.

Darn it, she cursed, then apologized inwardly.

"Zidane!" she hissed. "Zidane!"

Steiner snorted, startling her, and rolled over. She decided not to try that again.

Poking her face out the tent like a moon from a cloud, the princess picked up a nearby rock and daintily threw it at the tailed thief. The blonde murmured and rolled over, his back to her.

She cursed and apologized and tried again. And again. And again.

The third glanced painfully off the back of his head and he awoke with a startled 'ow!'

"Zidane!" she hissed, and he turned to look at her.

"Morning!" he chirped loudly and she hushed him.

No one stirred.

She beckoned him and, getting the idea, he got up and crept inbetween the sleeping forms of Steiner and Vivi, picking his way toward the tent.

Garnet drew her head back inside and near crushed her breasts with the corset from nerves and embarrassment. She turned slightly to lessen his view.

Zidane crawled in and crouched just inside the entrance. "Something wrong?" he whispered. "You threw a …a … ah… oh…"

He swallowed noisily upon spotting her bare back and sparsely concealed front. Garnet felt her cheeks burst into flame.

"I cannot do up my corset," she stated briskly. "I thought maybe you could… you… could… be able to… t-to…"

"Do it up?" he supplied, voice cracking slightly.

She nodded.

"Sure, no probs." He moved and sat behind her. He did not touch her but she felt his breath tickle her neck. "Used to have to do these bastards all the time in Tantalus."

There was a serious, matter-of-fact tone in his voice that made her relax. Cool and casual, almost professional. No quirks or inappropriate comments.

Garnet gathered her thicket of midnight hair with one hand and brushed it to the side, fully revealing the curve of her waist and delicate shoulder blades. Inky pools of shadow dappled the indents of her spine, making her skin appear creamy in comparison.

She thought she heard him gulp again and wondered how she had got into this situation. No one had ever seen her bare flesh aside from the highest ranking servants, and yet this mere thief, this common peasant, was being permitted to not only look upon her revealed figure but dress her too! It was ludicrous!

Zidane worked deftly and with the nimble fingers of a thief as he weaved through loop and hole, pulling and tightening, ripping the breath from her lungs as her ribs were painstakingly squeezed inwards.

"Too tight?" he asked.

She shook her head.

A mischievous tuft of hair slipped from her grasp and tumbled over the corset. Zidane paused to brush it aside, fingers whispering over her shoulder blades. Much to her horror she shivered at his touch and broke out in goosebumps. He continued threading and lacing and she prayed to the Eidolons he had not noticed.

Finally he was done. She was just about to thank him when she felt a second touch on her shoulder, different from the first. Something wonderfully fleeting and deliciously new; warm and soft, so feather light she barely sensed it at all.

Then it was gone, and with its departure realization dawned.

He… he had kissed her! Her! A princess!

Forgetting previous concerns about modesty, she stood and turned to him, wide eyed. He stared back at her with a genuine, handsome smile, then simply got up and left without a word.

Alone and flustered, Princess Garnet was unsure whether it was the corset making her breathless, or something else entirely…