Authors Note: This story is actually something that will be straying from my usual perspectives, etc. Say Ultimecia never came to power--say Timber was always it's own country. Say Rinoa never met Squall--until now. Say that Garden was created solely to help antigovernment factions--and say that each country has it's own Garden, which also serves as a military base/army. Catch my drift? As always, this fanfic is a Squinoa, and Seiftis. And, as painful as it is to admit it, I do not own FF8 or Squaresoft..curse them.


Bond of Dignity
Rinoa closed her eyes, relieving herself from all worries she heald captive inside her mind. The warmth of her bed comforted her; it made her forget the things that ate away at her soul. The wind outside her window flowed slowly as if calming the pain she felt. It whistled softly, sending tingles down her spine. She pulled the covers over her chest, shielding herself from the cold winter night.


There was so much to be done in preparation for what was happening. There was so much to consider in the war--the war she was calling out upon Balamb Garden. War had been the last thing she wanted, and yet it was inevitable. Her peers, colleagues, and advisors had all urged her to call a war.


To her, war meant deaths. Innocent lives would be stolen from the hands of hundreds; their blood spilled by her own fighters. Even by herself. The thought chilled her to the bone, sending goose bumps to cover her body. She bit her lower lip. Why was she doing this? She had the power to stop it - and yet, she did not. She had her reasons, reasons that she was not willing to share.


She would keep these goals to herself. If she were to go to war with balamb, it would cause disorder to the town. Balamb, at the current time, served as both Esthar's and it's own Garden. She was told that this was because the Commander of Balamb Garden was the president of Esthar's son. This, she knew, was a problem. Esthar was known for it's incredible technology and military tactics. With it's power and Balambs willingness to accept it, they were unstoppable.


Her only hopes of defeating Balamb were allies. She needed all of them she could get. Galbadia had already offered it's services, seeing as how her father was the general of the country. She chuckled to herself. Balamb's commander may have his advantages, but so did she. However, Galbadia by itself would certainly not be enough to stop her enemy. She knew that Centra Garden had sided with Balamb. She would need the help of Dollet and Deling. Deling, being the capitol of Galbadia itself, would undoubtedly help her. Dollet, too, she knew.


With them, the small Garden of Timber would become much larger. With them, she just might even out her chances of defeating Balamb. Even them out, but not give her the greater advantage. It would, after all, be a war of the brain. Whoever commanded their garden and allies with more depth and strategical advancement would win the war. She knew she was smart; nobody could oppose Balamb better than Rinoa Heartilly. However, she had heard many things about Commander Leonhart. She did not know his first name, hell, she didn't even know if the commander was a he'. She assumed he was.


Leonhart. What a last name. She chuckled out loud to herself. It sounded so unrealistic, but at the same time, it was believable. She had heard great things about him. His knowledge of battle surpassed that of any other commander in the history of Balamb. He was also known for his supposed good looks. I'll believe it when I see it. He's probably some 40 year old obese man with a mustache. She laughed again. It wouldn't surprise her if he was indeed a creep. With that image sealed in her mind, she drifted off to sleep.

____________________



Three-hundred-ninety-seven, three-hundred-ninety-eight, three-hundred-ninety-nine, four-hundred.'


Squall Leonhart relaxed his stiff muscles. His daily workout ended. He stood, yawned, and stretched; his incredibly muscular figure rippling under his movements Squall walked over to his bed, where he sat and removed his black training boots. He yawned again, this time walking across the checker tiled floor towards his bathroom. He glanced out his window, where he saw the moonlight being soaked in by the ocean waves of Centra. It was a beautiful night. The silver necklace of the sky lay whole, glimmering down upon it's on lookers. Squall felt out of place; feeling so miserable and stressed on so peaceful a night.


The 18 year old commander of balamb garden turned the knob of his shower, watching as the hot water cascaded down onto the white tile. He removed his pearl colored tank top, black pants, and leather gloves, and stepped into the shower. The calming rush of water seemed to relax his sore muscles. sighing, he began to once again assess his situation.


48 hours ago, Timber Garden declared war upon Balamb. He saw it coming a mile away, it did not disturb him in the least when his second in command, Quistis Trepe, informed him of a letter they had received via messenger. The rain-splattered parchment had told him that, due to the recent disappearance of the Timberian SeeD's dispatched to Balamb, Timber had no other choice but to revolt against the killings.


The killings?


There had been no killings; atleast not by Balamb. If they were, indeed, by Balamb people, he was not aware of it. The killings had been individual attacks, not direct assaults against the nation. And Galbadia..along with Timber...knew it. That was another problem. Who had been killing these Timberian cadets during training, he had no idea. Why they were taking it out on Balamb was another piece of which he was clueless; that served as yet another problem. What advantage would they get out of the destruction of Balamb Garden, he did not know.


There were so many things he did not know. Normally, he would contact the Timberian commander himself; however, the person placed in charge he had not been aquainted with. The former commander of Timber, CMDR Bach, he knew. If Bach was still in charge, the war would have not sprung; and if by some chance it had, it would have been easily dealt with.


But this new commander, he had heard, was a stubborn person. He had been utterly shocked when told she was a women. Shocked, but at the same time relieved. He was not one to stereotype, for his second in command was indeed a women. However,women joining the Timber Garden had just recently been allowed. Before a year ago, only men could train and become SeeD's. This women, no doubt, had only had a year of experience. Squall himself had had nine.


He poured the thick, white shampoo into the palm of his hand and began scrubbing his silky brown hair. There wasn't much he could do about the war now, he was in the middle of Centra Ocean at 1 AM. Quistis had gone to bed, and his assistant, Seifer Almasy, had probably done the same. With Quistis, he didn't know--and didn't care to know. He almost smiled at the thought. No one would have suspected two years ago that Quistis Trepe, former instructor, would be dating the most rebellious student to ever hit garden.


He brushed that thought out of his mind, and allowed the water to rinse his hair free of the suds. The Timberian general came to mind again. He wondered what she was like; was she smart? Courageous? Attractive? He nearly choked at his thought. Attractive? The thought of women had never before crossed his mind. He had been too consumed in war, running garden, and dealing with other affairs to worry about his romantic life. Hyne, he didn't even HAVE a romantic life. He had never before had a girlfriend, he had never before even kissed a girl.


This, everyone found surprising. Nearly every single female cadet, SeeD, and faculty member in garden swooned when the commander walked by. His presence caused most women to become weak in the knees. When spoken to, they would stutter, blush, and bite their lip. This was not a surprising reaction. He was...to put it bluntly...beautiful. His hair was soft and silky, the color of chocolate. His skin was pale and untouched, and of course cleanly shaven. But what was most intriguing about Squall Leonhart was his eyes. His eyes seemed to captivate a person. The icy blue color hid something more complex. There was fire in that ice, burning to escape. Passion; desire; strength. All of this could be seen simply by glancing into a man's eyes.


He hardly considered himself a man. His eighteenth birthday had passed a few months ago, and upon it's arrival, he had been given the position of commander. His age accommodated the requirement, hence forth, he was given he title of commander. Squall had graduated top of his class a year ago, followed by Seifer Almasy. Quistis had graduated top of class the year before, making the three of them quite the team.


Their being bright was a blessing, undoubtedly, but it also caused a bit of a problem. They all saw things differently, through different eyes. Seifer was outgoing. He showed little restraint. Quistis, on the other hand, was calm and reserved. She was a very agreeable women. She had the ability of being able to see through the eyes of an enemy quite well, and for this, she was valuable. Squall himself was cool and collect, always able to assess a situation perfectly. He always seemed to know exactly what to do in all types of occurrences. He was a quick thinker and an extremely brilliant man. The three of them together, brainstorming, was quite the amusing event. Seifer would be bitching about something, Quistis countering everything he said, and a very peeved Squall would tell them to shut the hell up and let him handle the situation.


However, recently, their arguments had stopped. They all realized the seriousness of their predicament, and were willing to hear what the other had to say. Most of the time, they agreed on aspects. As of now, the only issue they disagreed on was what to do about the shortage of SeeD. Sure, they had every bit as much as the Timber government. But that would not win them the war. What were they supposed to do? Stop when everyone was dead? Kill each other?


Squall stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his bare waist. He glanced in the mirror, decided he didn't need to shave, and flipped off the switch of his bathroom light. Reaching into his dresser, he grabbed a pair of plaid boxers, and slid them on. It was too hot a night to wear anything more. Still around his neck, draped a silver chain pendant by which the carving of a lion hung. It was his family heirloom, griever. On his finger rested a ring with the same shape carved into it, another heirloom. He had had them since he was a child, since his mother died giving birth to him. He did not remove them - ever - for when he did, he felt incomplete.


He slid underneath the navy blankets of his bed, switching the light of his lamp off. He reached a long arm to the floor, where he slid his index finger across the blade portion of his lionheart. He could no rest assured that lionheart would be there--if it was needed. For tonight, he had an eerie feeling it would be.






Authors Note: here we have it folks, the first chapter in--what I'm hoping to be--a very long, complicated fanfiction. I know exactly where I'm headed with this thing, so updates will be frequent. Please let me know what you think with any suggestions or comments. Thanks! [also, if you would like me to email you whenever you update, you can tell me so-- rikku@twisted.nu. Au revoir!]