Under Zenith
Note: This is a warped and complete rewrite of a story (GSM) that I wrote sometime ago under a different alias.
Chapter 1: Summer of Change
Shafts of sunlight filtered languidly through the spacious glass dome, gilding the upper half of the ballroom with a lurid golden hue and flooding the lower half with natural light. Mounted bronze rosettes and stained glass apertures surrounded the periphery of the domed ceiling, trapping within its circular grasp the beauty of the summer sky. Some light bled through the stained glass, transmuting into muted rainbows which fell softly upon white washed walls. She gazed up critically into the ring of blue, dust motes dancing in her vision.
The coming of summer heralded more than just a change in weather, she reflected, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun's harsh glare. While spring was the season most often associated with rebirth, summer was bringing with it a rebirth of its own. Peace. She liked that word. She hadn't entertained the thought of peace for quite some time now, as being the superstitious person that she was she had been somewhat afraid of jinxing the then remote possibility of such a thing. Squall, though, he had never lost hope. During the war she had seen him change into a hypocrite of his own pessimistic nature, for with every new wound stitched the scars left behind attested to his stubborn determination not to fall. But he did fall, down to his knees, and even then optimism never left his heart. She had wondered then how strong Squall had the potential to become. Now, with the coming of summer, she had her answer.
Her eyes left nirvana and smiled at the sight of Squall, standing by the podium with Nida, his expression one of great frustration. She began walking towards him, hands clasped behind her back.
Having sensed her approach, Squall looked up, the pieces of paper in his hand momentarily forgotten.
"Rinoa," he greeted her, hobbling forward, and it became apparent to anyone watching that he was taking great care in his descent down the podium, taking one step at a time. She fought the urge to run forward and help him down, but knowing that such an action would provoke yet another argument between them and that it was the last thing she wanted. Instead, she merely paced herself, taking slow, deliberate strides.
"You're handling that thing a lot better," she remarked once she stood beside him, gesturing towards his cane. The weapon's maker in Balamb had crafted it for him. It was forged from the purest adamantine ore one could find, and a dangerous weapon in its own right. Just how Squall had wanted it.
"Makes me feel older than Cid, but…" He trailed off, learning forward to give her a peck on the cheek. "You should be happy that your boyfriend looks so dignified."
Rinoa tried to her best to hide her bitter smile as she switched the topic and asked him how the speeches were coming along. He shook his head in response.
"Nida makes me sound like a complete bore," He confided to her. "It's worse than one of Cid's old fishing stories." A loose giggle escaped her lips, and she reached forward to thread her arm through his. "Then lets go tell Nida that together, alright?"
Feeling secure and with the warmth of his body beside her, she started forward, ever so slightly helping him take his weight off his left leg. If he noticed he didn't say anything, and Rinoa felt a sudden sense of contentment overwhelm her.
Peace. She liked that word.
*
Quistis hated social gatherings. Loathed them with a vengeance, and yet she still found herself in the midst of preparations for such an event. As a highly respected instructor of Garden she was expected to attend, not to mention that her duties also required her to both preach and practice social etiquette tiresomely. Chin up, good posture, look them straight in the eye, and laugh at whatever they say. It drove her to the brink of insanity sometimes, having to tolerate those waltzing, mirthful clowns on so many occasions, but she always managed to keep herself in check. After all, she reasoned, better to mingle and put in an appearance than be declared by one's superiors to be both socially and conversationally inept.
Smiling inwardly, she stole another look at her surroundings. Despite her animosity for such events, Quistis had to admit that Selphie had really outdone herself this time. The ballroom looked splendid. A little too quixotic for her own tastes, given the hand holding emblems and splashes of blue and gold covering all corners of the room, but appropriate for the occasion nonetheless. It was called the 'Unification Celebration," and cliched as it sounded Quistis approved of the underlying message that permeated both the title and the utopian décor.
"Bitter quarrels lain to rest," She mused to herself, watching as a team of about a dozen people, gathered from all three Garden's, struggled to string up a banner on the opposite end of the lavish ballroom. She still found it hard to believe that the complex issues between the three Garden's had been resolved in such a short period of time. That three days of diplomatic talks were enough to dissolve the differences behind two years of civil strife. In fact, she was just waiting for the morning she would wake up and realize it were all an illusion.
Oh stop it. You're beginning to sound like one of those military warmongers
, she chided herself. But the ironic thing was that her very job suggested she was a 'military warmonger', even though she had tried to oppose hawkish suggestions of first strike tactics during wartime. All her life she had been bred to do battle, but that did not mean she reveled in it… even though its absence made her feel strangely empty and unfulfilled.Time for another romp through the training center
, she thought wryly. It would be much more useful than hanging around the ballroom playing chaperone, she decided. And besides, it would give her an extra opportunity to hone in on her speed. Despite how high her SeeD ranking went she always saw room for improvement, whether it was learning a new trick with her Save the Queen or augmenting her physical abilities. In addition to maintaining her current skill level it allowed her to progress far beyond others expectations, and she always liked to surprise.Selphie wasn't around as she had stepped out for a few words with the chief members of the Unification committee, but from the looks of it things were proceeding smoothly and orderly. Smoothly and orderly enough to convince Quistis it would be okay if she left everyone in the room to their own devices for five minutes, until Selphie came back. And Squall and Rinoa were prowling around somewhere she was sure, so the ballroom should be safe from any immediate disaster. The caterers were doing their job, bustling back and forth between the kitchen and the ballroom, their arms full of the finest silver and trays of exquisite delicacies that had any mouth watering at the sight. The band had set up at the upper most corner of the dance floor, and the band members were presently fine tuning their instruments and practicing a few numbers, albeit quietly. And then there was everyone else, each attending to a different aspect of the ballroom, putting up the decorations and transforming the place into one fit for kings and queens. Everything was fine and on schedule.
Guilt weighed heavily at the back of her mind, however, at the prospect of blowing off yet another favor. She'd already sidelined the task of finding someone to draw up training schedules for the Trabian and Galbadian cadets, since she didn't have many competent options left. Squall was too busy to help out with the arrangements and Xu had departed earlier that morning for Deling City where she was to attend a press conference to update the world on the situation between the three Garden's. She had toyed with the idea of doing it herself, but her teaching commitments had already placed a heavy burden on her and she had barely enough free time as it was.
Reverting back to her initial train of thought, she hoped that Selphie wouldn't mind her leaving. She refused to admit to herself that she could probably stab a sword through the younger woman's back and that Selphie would just smile and say that it was okay.
Making a mental note to apologize later, Quistis took one last look around. Quietly, and without a sound, she slipped though the double doors, allowing a few meager feathers of light to spill out beyond the ballroom into the artificial yellow of the hall.