Author's Note: At the moment I'm incredibly stressed and I find typing up HTML coding so theraputic...anyway. I'm in the middle of my finals and new writing is coming out incredibly slowly, so I decided to share my first ever FFVIII fic with the fanfiction.net community. It's set two years after the Ultimecia affair. Some of you may have seen it up elsewhere under my other pen name, Eloisa (which FFN wouldn't let me register - WTF?). I've revised the first chapter a little in light of criticism of my descriptive writing (or lack thereof) so I hope it's better this time out. Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: Final Fantasy VIII and its characters belong to Squaresoft. Yes, I stole them. I prefer to think of it as a long-term loan.
CHAPTER ONE - SQUALL
Squall Leonhart rubbed at his eyes again as he stared out over the vast emptiness of the Great Plains of Esthar. He tried to push the fatigue out of his mind. Too much to do. He had far too much work to do to even try and rest up properly. Whenever he thought about slowing down he couldn't help but be reminded of the way this plateau looked two years ago. Before Sorceress Ultimecia, through Seifer Almasy, brought the Lunar Cry down onto the greatest nation in the world.
Admittedly, there had never been many towns out here, and the villages had been remote, isolated places. But before the moon monsters had landed there had been people in the semi-desert, the tough kind that on other continents would have lived in the wild canyons of Trabia or among the dunes of Galbadia. Now they had gone; they had fled to Esthar City or been killed before they could run. The city itself was enough of a shambles. Laguna - he flinched as he thought the name - wanted his country put back to rights. Squall couldn't blame him for that. He couldn't blame Cid for putting him in charge of the huge Garden team sent out to try and clear the billion or so monsters out of Esthar, either. But Laguna was - difficult to work with. Difficult in a way that very few other people could see.
The others think I'm being stubborn with him because I don't like him, Squall thought, watching the Ragnarok cruise along just above the ground a hundred feet away. They don't see that I'm trying. He asks the impossible. Professionally and personally.
The insectile ship's lasers flashed straight at the ridgeline ahead - and, with a low roar, the hill collapsed. Gravel and dust whooshed up around the Ragnarok's nose as Selphie expertly steered it to safety. Beside Squall, Irvine Kinneas let out a cheer and tossed his hat into the air. "Way to go, Selphie baby!" he yelled.
Zell scowled at him and flexed his muscles. "You ever stop going on about your half-sized chick? Quistis is at the guns. Not her."
"Who're you calling half-sized? And Selphie's got a heart the size of Galbadia. Did you see that turn -"
"Leave it," Squall ordered. "You're forgetting we've still our bit to do."
"Who's forgetting?" Irvine demanded, plugging his fastest ammo into his favourite rifle. "When the monsters show, they show. Until then we're off the front line."
"We're SeeDs. We're always on the front line."
Zell, until then scanning the area for signs of monsters, glanced up at him. "You OK, Squall?"
No. "Yeah, fine."
"Just, you have been double-shifting lately and -"
"Nothing our employer doesn't do."
Wrong thing to say. Zell's face immediately took on that half-pitying, half-irritated expression so many people seemed to wear whenever they heard him mention Laguna. "He's not leading combat squads every minute -"
"No, only about half the time." Squall kept his eyes front. "And I can manage just fine. I do happen to be half his age." Zell didn't answer, just sighed like he thought Squall was being deliberately troublesome. That was the last thing Squall wanted now. He needed his friends. Especially when the great open spaces made him feel so isolated.
Rinoa's up there on the ship. It's not like we're apart. The Garden's parked in FH, just a train ride away. Half the SeeDs are in Esthar for me. Gods, Ellone's in Esthar for me. Why am I so - difficult? I've got people here. I'm not alone.
"Guys." Irvine's voice was low and urgent. "We have action." Squall blinked, looked. He was right.
An indigo wall of sheer muscle rose up through the pile of debris, pushing boulders aside like they were plastic imitations. It was a huge Behemoth, engaged in shouldering away the rubble from the Ragnarok's destruction of the hillside. The monster's muzzle broke through the surface scree and it swung its crimson-maned head from side to side as if looking for whatever had attacked it. A Torama slunk out in the Behemoth's wake, rolling its shoulders around to fling the dirt from its spotted fawn coat, almost gliding across the uneven surface with typical feline sleekness. But there was not just one. Three, four - and a fifth was there at the back, hiding behind the others, something dangling from its mouth.
"Oh, man," Zell muttered. "Female with cubs. The pack'll fight to protect them."
"No more than we should have expected," Squall returned, drawing his gunblade. "Summon the GFs. Hit them hard before they see us."
"Too late," Irvine snapped, bringing up the Exeter and taking down the leading Torama with one shot through the eye socket just as it squealed its war cry. The thing had been at least eighty yards away. Can't afford to forget how good he is with a gun. The Behemoth turned and roared, stamping its feet in preparation for a lumbering charge. The remaining Toramas didn't bother to prepare. A second to orient themselves, and then they were off, rushing straight at Squall, Zell and Irvine.
Irvine's gun rang out again and the first Torama staggered. It didn't stop, just let the rest overtake it. Zell wasn't moving - why? Squall shook himself and took a pace forward, spitting the nearest Torama on the Lion Heart as it leapt at Irvine. The remaining two stopped for a second, then with the unerring instinct of animals that recognised a common enemy they advanced on Squall, moving shoulder to shoulder. He feinted; they hesitated. Damn it, Zell, why aren't you -
"Holy Judgement."
Squall leapt backwards as he felt Alexander towering over him. The two Toramas leapt up to strike the Guardian; the mighty figure flung a golden lance of Holy power straight into the chest of the leading cat. The second beast fell under the shower of heavenly shrapnel that rained all around. Thanks, Zell. And thank you, Alexander. Too bad the Behemoth decided to come late to the party. Squall reoriented himself and ran straight at the huge monster.
His first attack startled it more than it damaged it. Same with Irvine's next gunshot. The Ragnarok was wheeling past overhead, no help to them. However good a shot Quistis was she couldn't hit the Behemoth when it was this close to the ground team. Not without killing somebody in the process.
The Behemoth roared and charged, head lowered. Squall tried to dodge; too late. The monster's horns raked across his side - but only caused superficial damage. Thank you, Bahamut, for Auto-Protect. That would have killed me. Squall tried to get up and make another attack. He stopped when his head started swimming. Superficial damage from Behemoths is still devastating. Remember that next time you try to go one on one with them, you crazy man.
Zell finally decided to join in. He dashed past Squall and started dancing round the Behemoth, lashing out at it repeatedly then dodging away before it could hit him. The blasted thing was trying to swat him like it might swat a fly. Too bad for it that Zell was as fast as one. Clever boy, Squall silently approved. He was drawing its attention away from Squall and Irvine. Give me a little more time to get moving.
The Behemoth lowered its head again. Squall winced as the monster ran straight at Zell like it had at him earlier. Zell was faster, though. He dived straight beneath its hooves, coming out the other side, and as he got to his feet he yelled, "Squall! What are you waiting for?"
"Something like that, maybe," and now he had the strength. Focus. You know you can. He reached inside him for that place the special energy came from, the energy that fired him up when he had nothing else left, and as the Behemoth turned to come back at Zell he attacked, slashing repeatedly at its head and flanks. It moved as if to strike him; he dropped back. The monster did not follow. It was staggering, shaking its head around.
"Squall, you blinded it. Get out of the way before it smells you."
"Easy for you to say, Irvine." Like, he's never in the way. Gunmen don't know what that means. But he fell back, somehow sensing that Irvine had something special planned. Half a second later he flung himself to the ground as a mobile explosion roared over his head and impacted with the Behemoth. When the sound had died away Squall raised his head and risked a look at the place the monster had been. There wasn't much Behemoth there any more, just a hole and a few charred bones.
"Thanks, Irvy. You nearly scalped me -"
"Uh, Squall." It was Zell. "We still have a problem." Squall got to his feet -
And remembered about the female Torama. He stared at the monster, still crouched down by the cave-in site licking at its young one. As he watched, the Torama pulled away and turned towards them. How intelligent were the things? At this distance Squall could hear its growls. Suddenly he knew that the cub was dead and that the Torama thought he was the cause. Irvine was at his shoulder, already firing; the Torama ignored the first bullet wound and barely flinched at the second. It was casting.
The sky darkened. Squall glanced upwards, his stomach sinking as the stars seemed to come closer. A Meteor spell. It could well take him out - it would need only one of Zell or Irvine to fall as well, and they would be in real trouble -
And then the sky went all the way to black. The Ragnarok roared past him, gunning straight for the Torama. In a single burst of flame it died. The spaceship backwinged, skidding to a halt on the nearest hillock. The hatch banged open to reveal Quistis and Rinoa standing together at the entrance. "Come on!" Quistis was shouting across the space between them. "Get in here before the spell -"
The first fiery orb shattered on the ground in between Squall and Irvine. Near-molten shards flew from the impact point, glazing the desert ground where they struck. Without really knowing how, Squall took off at a dead sprint, heading straight for the hatch. Can't keep it up...no! Zell was catching him up, passing him. I've overstrained this time. You idiot, Leonhart. The Ragnarok was still so far away from him - too far...
Something red hot and smoking crashed into him from a great height, sending him crumpling to the ground. He tried to get up. This time it wasn't going to work. The second blow convinced him of that. The last thing he remembered was staring hazily towards the Ragnarok and seeing Rinoa's shadowy wings flare.
"This time, are you going to slow down, or am I going to have to apply the brakes myself?"
"Don't ask difficult questions, Rinoa." Squall finally got his eyes open. He was lying on the floor of a room that looked like the Ragnarok's passenger deck. Rinoa was kneeling beside him. He could still see her wings. They had that silvery cast to them that meant he was the only one who could. "What's happening?"
"After you decided to play catch with the Meteors, Quistis took over and decided we'd all had enough for one day. You especially. We're heading back for Esthar City."
"Then the day's not over yet." He hadn't meant to say that aloud. Rinoa was frowning at him.
"Quistis can take the report into the Palace, and she can help Laguna play with his maps as well. You come back and get an early night for once."
Squall pushed himself upright and decided it had been a mistake to do so. "I can't do that. I've got to talk about tomorrow's assignments. Not ours - everyone's. We're moving further away from Esthar every day, and I want to rearrange all the teams so everyone has mobile backup. I don't want anyone caught in a situation like that," and he pointed out the window, "without someone able to help them out. Even the people still working within city limits."
"And Quisty can't so something that simple? I thought it was procedure anyway."
"Not for everyone. We have an advantage."
"Like, Selphie refuses to give back the Ragnarok, so we always get it?"
"She likes her toys. This spaceship, her guitars, Irvine. Whatever." He slid back down so his head was pillowed in Rinoa's lap. This was peace. The only peace he ever got.
Rinoa stroked his unruly hair. "I miss you of an evening," she admitted softly, bending over and kissing him. "I liked it when we could just lie together and talk. I had to try and persuade you. But I'm kind of pleased you're so set on going over."
That was not what he'd expected to hear from her. "Why?"
"My father's come over from Galbadia to see Laguna. He called - very briefly. He said it was important and you would tell me later."
"That means it is important. He trusts you enough to tell you things." Squall sighed. Although he had to go see Laguna, he'd hoped he would be able to get away quickly and spend at least some of the evening with Rinoa. Looked like that wouldn't be happening. "Any clues?"
"Something about the army. That's a direct quote."
"Hmm." He tried to think. "Maybe they're short on young officers since Galbadia Garden's training programme got - well, interrupted."
"And he'd come to Esthar to talk about that?"
"Yeah, so it wasn't a good suggestion. Maybe if Galbadia's security is threatened by the shortage -"
"Not likely. It isn't just Timber that's become independent. Galbadia's less than half the size it was under Deling."
That wasn't something he could think about directly - and not for strategic reasons. Whenever anyone mentioned Timber he couldn't stop himself remembering how Rinoa had come to his room the night before the tiny country's independence ceremony. She'd reminded him that she was still technically his client until the treaty had gone through - and had told him exactly what she wanted him to do before he stopped having to obey her. Having any woman, let alone the one he adored, come on to him that hard had been an entirely new experience. Just thinking about her was a turn-on unless he resisted it. And he didn't really want to resist now.
"I had another thought," Rinoa offered. "About what he might have meant."
"Hmm?" The curve of her breasts above his head - the line of her chin -
"Seifer and his renegades."
Squall's attention shifted from Rinoa's body to her face. "You OK?"
She shook her head. "I still can't think about him. I can't believe what he did in the Sorceress War and I can't forgive him for what he's done to Galbadia since then." Squall reached up and stroked her cheek. He knew which memories of the war troubled her the most; Seifer handing her to Adel in front of her friends in the Lunatic Pandora, and Seifer torturing Squall behind closed doors in the Galbadian prison. He couldn't blame her for choking over them. They bothered him too.
"Be fair. For the first year he had nothing to do with the trouble in Galbadia. The deserters started that on their own."
"He went back to them when they wanted him. He just couldn't resist hurting people again."
"You're so sure he's still involved?"
Rinoa stared at him. "Are you starting to forgive him?"
"That's not what I said. Look, it took them months to pry him out of FH. There's no proof he went off to Galbadia. I just think - he might not want any more of this."
"Then where is he?"
Rinoa touched him again. "Like what?"
Like you. "Like how I've hardly had any sleep in a month."
"How about two? Poor baby. You try too hard."
Maybe he could get her to understand. "It's a bit difficult not to. Look, try to be me for a second."
She pretended to think. "Nah. Men are strange. You're even stranger."
He ignored the remark. "I've always been - out front. Better than other people without having to try. Weapons training, endurance, anything. I mean, anything. I can manage on five hours a night, easy. Always have."
He took a deep breath. "We get here, what, six months ago? Seven? And I find the guy who's hired us has done so because he's been personally sending every team out to sweep Esthar clean of monsters for the past year and a half, and he's running out of both men and patience. I step in and send out a few task teams. He's still organising the lot. He's the one hearing about where the biggest nests are, not me. I couldn't do half of what he does. He's still leading groups round the city, too. He's working over twenty hours a day and he has been for two years. He can't see a break coming either. And he still manages to keep going. I don't know how he does it and I can't keep up despite the fact he expects me to, and I expect me to." Squall turned over and buried his face in Rinoa's stomach.
Rinoa gathered him into her arms. "I don't think he does expect you to. It's only your own standards getting you down."
"You aren't there every evening when I go off and leave him still reading reports. You aren't there every morning when he looks at me like he's wondering where I've been for the past couple of hours."
"You're imagining things." Maybe he was. "You need an evening off -"
"And I can't take one. Your father's turned up."
"Tomorrow, then. Tell him you need a rest and you're getting it. I'll make sure he remembers."
"Thanks." He meant it. Anything for a few more hours' sleep. Anything for more time with Rinoa.
The Ragnarok's intercom bleeped. "Good evening, people!" Selphie's cheerful voice bounced across it. "I thought you'd like to know we're just flying into Esthar, and we've got clearance for the airstation. So, anyway, we'll be home soon. See you all later." A breathless giggle later, the intercom cut out.
Rinoa was smiling. "Someone's happy."
"Irvine was on the bridge with her. I can tell."
"Because you feel like that when I'm with you?"
"Sort of." He sat up and held her then, instead of the other way round. "I don't want to lose you."
"Silly. You're not going to."
"One of us could die any day -"
"Being honest about it, probably you. You're the one on the ground most of the time. And I get more sleep. I concentrate better."
"I don't want to die if it means leaving you behind." She kissed him at that. He hugged her tighter to him, until she gasped as her ribcage protested. He loosened his hold on her. "Sorry. I didn't want to hurt you."
"If you died you would hurt me. Can we stop talking about this now?"
"Sure." He got to his feet - he was still a little unsteady; pity Rinoa had no special healing abilities like Selphie and Quistis had - and stared out of the windows. Esthar City lay below, its lights glittering in the twilight. The initial devastation the Lunar Cry had caused there had mostly been repaired. Several districts were still uninhabitable due to monster nests in sub-basements, but those grew rarer every week. Esthar was starting to look like it had the first time Squall had seen it - the beautiful, peaceful city that considered itself the heart of the universe.
The beautiful city that Laguna had built up and still ruled over. His father...
Rinoa reached up to touch his face without looking. "Don't upset yourself, my knight. Certainly not over Laguna." He didn't answer; she sighed. "Look, can't you stop seeing this as a race between you? Can't you see it as - well, as a similarity between you? Maybe you get your stamina from him, and he just has more because he's more used to using it. Maybe. Think about it, Squall. Please? Ellone -"
"Elle's trying to make us be friends. And we try, when we're with her. She knows we don't like each other. She's used to it. She's got into the habit of ignoring it and hoping we will too." Not quite true. Ellone ignored the antipathy between the men in her life in the hope they would eventually grow out of it due to sheer embarrassment. So far Squall had seen no sign of that in either himself or Laguna.
But what hurt was that Rinoa was right. Squall was starting to see some of his own good qualities in Laguna, and if anything he was starting to hate the man more because of it. Laguna's strength was leading in crisis situations - because of his charisma and insight rather than because he had the technical knowledge Squall had worked so hard to absorb. When it came to getting a job done he was someone Squall would now consider asking for help, an adjustment in his thinking that had been difficult to achieve when he'd always thought of the man as ineffectual.
He just knows what to do about things. I don't. I think things out and don't make dumb conclusions halfway that get me to exactly the right place by coincidence. Oh, no. I have to try. I can't bluff it through, or act on instinct and just happen to get what I want. Not like Laguna Loire.
(to be continued...)
