Two weeks after Ellone gets home I am standing in the nursery, and I know.
I walk into the room where Ellone is sitting in a rocking chair singing quietly to a doll she hasn't played with in years, and it hits me that it's a scene I am never going to see played out in real life, and I can't explain it.
"Shh," Ellone looks up and gives me a toothy grin. "Baby's sleeping." Her whisper is loud and carries a tone of pride. I don't know where she got her instincts, but since she got home and found out she was going to be a big sister she has made every effort to fit the part. The corner of the room that only held an old crib and set of drawers has Ellone's hand all over it now; ruffled curtains hanging in the window printed with chicobos she saw in a shop and insisted we buy, framed prints of baby Moombas, and a stuffed Mog she brought home from Esthar that has a place of honor in the crib. It looks like a home. It looks like a place to grow.
Ellone looks back at her doll and lets the chair rock her, and I rest my hands on my belly and if I squint I can pretend she's holding a real baby, and maybe I can even hear someone stumbling around downstairs.
He's still not back, and he still doesn't know. And I start to cry for a decision that once seemed so wise, that is going to leave both of my children orphans. A breeze floats in through the corner window and carries with it Ellone's song, and a pain hits me, and I am left with only the hope that if I tell someone the children need to go to Esthar they will honor what I now understand will be my last request, and the image of a room with an empty crib and white curtains. A room waiting patiently; a room that will never be used.
This is what happens when fanfic writers are trying to plan out a Final Fantasy themed nursery. You end up picturing what never got to happen in-game and then feel the need to write about it...