the (butterfly) effect
-irishais-
A/N: Gift fic for astrangerenters, for Final Fantasy Exchange 2010.
She rented a modest apartment in Esthar because it seemed appropriate, and because Laguna made puppy-eyes at her when she was musing over the housing ads online. The complex was near the palace, in one of the shining new towers set up after the Cry. There were still some kinks to be worked out—the plumbing went haywire once a month like clockwork, and the laundry machines seemed unable to keep matching socks in the same load—but Ellone liked it well enough. Her neighbors were polite, keeping to themselves as Estharians were wont to do (Laguna being the main and possibly only exception to the rule). The city was interesting, the nearby bookstore filled with books new and old alike, and she had family close by.
But there was still something missing, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.
"—to Felicia's, and then had the gall to ask me if I could pick up the tab after he spilled red wine all over my skirt," Quistis laughed, and Ellone started, realizing that she had drifted off in the middle of her friend's recounting of a particularly disastrous date.
"Oh, goodness," she said, crossing her fingers and hoping it sounded sincere. She twirled her fingers in her loose breezy skirt, bunching the fabric around her nails into interesting patterns, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder as she tried to pay attention.
"It was ridiculous. I told him what he could do with the tab, and walked back to Garden." Over the line, Quistis sighed. "This is, of course, what I get for agreeing to a date with a Trepie."
This time, Ellone laughed, genuinely. "It sounds absolutely disastrous," she agreed. "I think you might've escaped with your life, there."
"You don't have to tell me—I think Ultimecia was easier than that...event."
There was a heartbeat's worth of pause, and Quistis caught onto it, picking up the slack again.
"So," she said, "I'm going to be in Esthar for the next week or so. Squall's got me doing some sort of press release for Garden. Want to hang out in my probably miniscule spare time?"
Ellone smiled. "Of course! I'm sure I can rearrange my schedule," she laughed. "I doubt Laguna would have any problem with that, unless there was some particularly important crisis that needed solving."
"Well, tell him there will be a SeeD in town if that happens."
They chatted for a few more minutes, and when Ellone finally hung up, she let out a soft exhalation. Quistis was a wonderful friend, and goodness knew that Ellone could use a few friends now that she was not surrounded by people, but still, something was missing.
She just wished she knew what it was.
xx
The restaurant was only half-crowded when she arrived, and even before she got past the coat rack, she could see that Quistis had been able to follow the moderately complicated directions that Ellone had given. It wasn't the most accessible place, but the food was brilliant, and the atmosphere was not nearly as invasive as most of the restaurants in the area. She shrugged out of her light jacket, handing it off to the gentleman in charge of the coats, and walked further into the dining area.
"I was beginning to think you got lost," Quistis joked by way of greeting, rising smoothly out of her chair with the sort of SeeD grace that Ellone envied very much, a dangerous fluidity that said elegance and I can kill you with my pinky all in the same breath.
"Hey, now, I'm only a few minutes late," she retorted mildly.
"I ordered you wine," Quistis said with a nod at the approaching waiter. "I figured at the very least, if you didn't drink it, I could."
Ellone frowned. "What's wrong? Terrible press conference?"
"Oh, it was run of the mill. But I can only answer the same sort of question over and over again before I feel the urge to cast Silence." Quistis toyed with her wineglass, and the low candle-like lighting played off of the dark liquid.
"Ah." Ellone paused. "Well, at least we have wine."
Quistis nodded, and clinked her glass against Ellone's. "We do, that." She took a long sip. "And it's not all over my favorite skirt. It's like a date, but without all the hassle!"
For a reason Ellone could not name, heat came to her cheeks and she blushed, just a little bit.
"Well," she said, raising her glass, "to faultless replacement dates!" Her voice pitched a little at the end, but Quistis didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't comment.
xx
She walked into Quistis' dreams that night, quite unexpectedly, and was assaulted with images, snippets of blood-torn battlefields and the witch with her raven's-black wings.
In the middle of it all stood Quistis, her whip uncoiled and hanging from her hand.
We're never going to make it, she thought, and Ellone backed up a few steps—or what counted for steps in a dream, but the effect was still the same. The vista widened; beyond the castle and the witch and Quistis, the battlefield seemed to stretch on forever. Ellone caught the half-remembered, non-substantial glimpses of Deling City, of the archway, of the vast Centra desert.
Of a murky grey-beyond that she knew all too well from Squall's nightmares, the place where he died.
"Quistis—" she whispered, but the woman just stood there in her bloodstained battle garb, and the hopelessness all around her was so crushing that Ellone woke in a cold sweat.
Her clock shone just past four.
She pushed aside the coverlet on her bed and stood, padding across the soft carpet to the doorway, partially open to let the air conditioning circulate. Quistis was exactly where Ellone had left her, laying on the couch with a blanket haphazardly thrown over her. They had talked until late, too late to catch even the late cabs in Esthar, and Ellone had offered her couch as a temporary solution.
She sat down in the only other chair in the room, a big overstuffed recliner that was perfect for curling up with a book, and drew her knees up to her chest.
Quistis's voice startled her more than it should have. Ellone wasn't exactly the stealth ninja of the night, and Quistis had probably heard her coming from a mile away. "I'm sorry," she said without preamble. "I didn't mean for you to see that." Her voice was rough with sleep, but Ellone shook her head.
"I didn't mean to—"
"You can't help it," Quistis said, sitting up on the sofa. "Don't apologize."
Ellone smiled halfway, slipping off the recliner to move to sit next to Quistis. "Sorry," she said, trying to make it sound like a joke. She didn't put very much effort into it, and the word seemed to roll off her tongue until it hit the floor with a flat thud. They both were silent for a long moment.
"It's just a dream," Quistis said, breaking the silence. "It's nothing to worry about."
"But you were—"
Quistis put her arms around Ellone gently, giving her a light hug. "Just a bad dream," she reiterated, but she was slow to let Ellone go, and her breath was warm on the smaller girl's cheek. "We all have them."
Ellone nodded, Quistis' hair soft against her face with the movement. Something fluttered in the pit of her stomach.
Quistis let her go, and some part of Ellone ached for the loss of contact. She looked at Quistis, reaching out to push a strand of golden blonde hair back behind her friend's ear, and Quistis caught her hand.
"Sorry," she said. "Reflex." But she did not let Ellone's hand go, and the fluttering was turning into something warm and not altogether unpleasant.
"It's okay," Ellone said, her voice barely above a whisper, and then she wasn't sure who moved first, but Quistis' lips were there, pressing against hers.
The kiss was gentle, sweet, flavored vaguely of mint toothpaste (and when put into perspective, should have been not as wonderful as it was).
"Oh," was all she could think of to say when Quistis finally pulled back, her voice full of wonder.
Quistis chuckled, a one-beat sound that was like music.
"I'm sorry," she repeated, and a million responses fluttered across Ellone's mind, the foremost of which was, I'm not, but she settled for kissing Quistis again instead, because maybe, just maybe, she could force out all of Quistis' nightmares that way, at least for a little while.