I've written things for 7, 8, and 13, but I've never yet written for final fantasy 9, despite it being probably my favourite of the games. This fic does not develop into an OCKuja pairing.

Royal Blood

The birthday of Princess Garnet til Alexandros 17th was, as always, celebrated with great and genuine enthusiasm by the Kingdom of Alexandria. Birthday parties of the royal line were always something of an occasion, but the Princess' every nameday was a real delight for most citizens. Garnet had battled serious illness for much of her early childhood, and despite the very best of care the royal treasury provided, she'd clung to life by a thread for years. Her sudden total recovery had caught many by surprise, and now, every year she lived was a gift, a guarantee of a clean succession and hence peace, prosperity, and security.

Very nearly losing their daughter had rocked the King and Queen, and they took great pains to see her every need was met. When it was discovered that the Princess had developed a taste for drama, a theatre ship was annually commissioned from Lindblum, and not one citizen raised an objection at the expense. The Lindblumian theatre troupes were legendary, and the show they provided so entertaining that the Alexandrian guards were willing to overlook the variety of small valuable items that invariably disappeared in the immediate aftermath. Garnet was said to thoroughly enjoy the experience, and all protests withered under that simple fact.

Such preferential treatment could easily have left the Princess pampered and petulant, but she was well aware of how close she had come to dying, and never took her existence for granted. Reports from the royal household gave rise to a picture of an intelligent, self assured young woman who was passionate but eternally polite. This, along with the fact that she happened to be very beautiful, only made the citizenry love her all the more.

The theatre ship provided a fantastic show, but was a security nightmare for the Alexandrian guard. Every year, townspeople, swam, sailed, flew (moogles and those with small private airships) or tried to blackmail their way into the castle, leaving the guards with the mammoth task of divining who should gain entry.

On this particular day, the bulk of the crowds had yet to arrive, and the guards at the gate were calm, efficient and relaxed. By evening, they would be driven to the brink of murder by the obstinacy of the masses, but their reserves of patience were as yet mostly untapped.

Aisling Fish, the guard on the left side of the gate, was the first to notice the new arrival. He was undoubtedly the most effeminate man she had ever seen, and in the Alexandrian court, that was no mean feat. , A jacket that had to be purely ornamental clung to his shoulders, leaving the stomach bare to Alexandria's chill mountain breezes. A strip of cloth trailed behind like a wedding dress' train, and every movement was made with a theatrical flourish. Pointed shoes fastened by buckles completed the picture.

Biting her lip, she addressed the new arrival.

"Can I help you...sir?"

"I seek an audience with the court." Soft, musical.

The Alexandrians glanced at each other. If he had a legitimate petition, they couldn't deny him entry, and open court was still in session at the castle. A very intelligent method of getting a front row seat for the play, and a trick not used before. They'd have to close the loophole for next year.

"And your name is..."

The silver haired man swept his hair aside. "Kuja. I'm an agent of Lord King."

The other Alexandrian, Niamh, blinked "Lord King is within already. Can he not present your petition?"

Flourish. "I'm acting on my own behalf on this occasion. I have a proposition for the King and Queen, should they wish to hear it."

"And that is..."

A blink. "Have you not heard of me?"

Niamh looked at him... "Kuja...I've heard the name...you're an arms dealer."

"Such a vulgar term. I prefer to consider myself a...facilitator. I help those in need to reach their full potential, by aiding them in removing obstacles from their path.

"I see. Well, sir, if you go through and sit down, one of the guards will enquire as to whether the court will hear new petitions at this time. It may take a while for the ferry to return."

"Thank you. May I enquire as to your names?"

"Niamh Kinnore,

"Aisling Fish."

"Fish...derived from fís, meaning vision, and Aisling, beautiful dream...Your name translates to 'beautiful dream vision?'"

Aisling looked at him. "You know your heraldry."

"I made sure to. Very well, thank you for your patience." He moved on when they opened the gates, Niamh briefly explaining the situation to the ferry guards inside, before returning to her post.

"'You know your heraldry?'"

"Well, he does... what, are you disappointed he didn't translate your name, 'poison gold head'?"

"Shut up. Strange visitor, though, wasn't he? I hope we've done the right thing, sending an arms dealer in to that court."

"It's just one audience. What harm can he do?"

"I hope you're right. Any other insights?"

They switched places. Aisling's teeth blossomed into view.

"Eunuch. Definitely." Both of them started laughing as the gates slammed shut.

The Guards' names are Irish. I'm not fluent, so the translations may be off. Please read and review. Compliments are not compulsory.