Valhalla
Lightning didn't have to wait for the goddess' whisper to know the name of this place. She knew it like she knew her own. Better, even. The information was simply there in her brain as though she'd been born with it. The empty, timeless city was familiar to her and stepping into it for the first time felt like coming home as much as it did walking into a cage.
Yes, Valhalla was familiar, although if asked she would struggle to explain why. Until the dreams started, that is.
Well, they weren't really dreams—she didn't sleep here, after all—so much as visions. Or perhaps they were memories. Whatever the case, they started not long after she fell into this separate, unseen realm. Not that the when of it really mattered in a kingdom that existed outside of time.
The first such vision came when she'd been exploring the city just before Caius' first attack. She'd been walking aimlessly through the lonely streets, dragging her fingertips whimsically along the side of a building when she turned a corner and found herself at the entrance of a garden. The garden was simple; just a collection of neatly arranged leafy bushes, at the center of which a small pond had been dug out accompanied by an empty stone bench, but the moment she saw it, Lightning's body had frozen in place as though all of time had come to a halt.
As she looked at the garden, unable to do much else with her body mysteriously immobilized, the air around her shimmered and all color bled out of her surroundings, leaving only a faint impression of the previously vibrant garden flora. The whole area was suddenly bathed in a soft light that made the shadows darker and the pale stone of the bench and surrounding buildings starker and blurred the edges of all objects in the vicinity. Dreamlike, Lightning thought, was the most suitable adjective for Valhalla's ghostly new veneer.
The change that succeeded in snagging the majority of her attention, however, was the figure of a man sitting serenely on the previously unoccupied bench—the first soul other than herself that she'd encountered since being brought to the unseen city.
He was young—about her age, if she had to guess—tall and slender and oddly nostalgic, and in the surreal, dreamlike tint the world had adopted his hair looked to be the color of moonlight. His eyes rose to meet her own and suddenly she could move again, however her body did not obey the commands of her brain. She was a passenger in her own skin as her legs carried her toward him. She saw surprise in his eyes as she approached. "Who—Etro?" he spoke, regarding her warily but curiously. His voice tickled her mind; yet another strangely nostalgic thing. His eyes swept over her, seeming to take in her appearance, then they softened. "Or are you another soul lost in this place?"
Without permission, Lightning's mouth opened and she said, "My name is Claire."
Why had she said that? She hadn't intended to. She hadn't intended to say anything at all.
"You still remember your name," he remarked, giving her a small, gentle smile. "You must be new here."
"Who are you?" Again, she hadn't intended to say anything. The words had left her lips entirely of their own volition.
The man's smile faded, but just slightly. "I'm afraid I don't remember," he answered and there was a shadow of regret in his voice. "I've been here much too long. But I do remember that I wasn't terribly fond of my name." He managed a light chuckle.
Lightning said nothing. Just regarded the man apathetically.
"I don't suppose you're here with anyone?" he questioned, cocking his head to the side inquisitively.
"I'm alone." This time it didn't surprise Lightning as much when her mouth worked without her consent.
Unperturbed by her clipped response, the man awarded her with another gentle smile. He stood from the bench then and held out his hand to her. "Well then, shall we stick together?"
It was at that point that the vision ended and Lightning found herself alone once again staring at an empty garden.
Back then, Lightning had shaken her head and dismissed the vision as just another curiosity of Valhalla. While intriguing, she'd had far more important matters to attend to and had easily put the matter out of her mind.
The second vision came while she was walking along the beach some indeterminable time later. The loneliness had been pressing in on her more than normal and she'd elected to take a stroll along the coast, hoping the familiar sound of the waves lapping over the shore would help her feel closer to the woman she'd once been—back in a time when life hadn't been easier, not really, but she'd had her sister and she'd had hope that someday everything would be okay.
She'd seen a log half-buried in the sand and had been making her way toward it when the veil of soft, ethereal light fell over her once more, bleeding out the color from and blurring the edges of the objects around her.
And there he was, sitting on the log and looking up at her with the same gentle smile he'd worn during their first meeting.
"You're fond of the sea?" he asked, resting his elbows on his knees and lacing his fingers together as he watched her.
"It's amazing," her voice replied and just like last time Lightning was unable to halt the flow of words as she added, "I've never seen it before now."
If she could, Lightning would've frowned in confusion at her own words. She'd grown up in a seaside town...why would she claim to never have seen the ocean? However, she was no more in control of her actions than she was her voice and her mouth remained a straight line.
The man's face showed surprise. "Oh? That's a shame. There are few things more beautiful than the ocean under the stars."
Lightning's head turned to gaze out over the waves. "Too bad it's never nighttime in this place," her mouth remarked. "I guess that's something I'll never get to see."
The vision ended then, as abruptly as it began, leaving Lightning standing before a once again unoccupied log. The frown she had been unable to make only a moment before appeared on her face as she closed the distance between herself and the log and leaned down to run a gloved hand over the smooth wood. It was cold; no sign of having been sat upon just seconds ago.
Straightening up again, Lightning let out a clipped breath and turned around to walk back toward Etro's palace, no longer desiring the company of the sea.
The third vision came directly after one of her many battles with Caius. The fight had ended less than gracefully with her being catapulted into the sea, and as she waded back through the briny tide, her armor and hair dripping from her impromptu swim, she saw him, standing on the shore watching her with an amused look on his face.
"Fancied a swim, did you?" he teased
"Don't get cute," she responded, and she felt her arms lift to wring out her sopping hair.
Her feet found dry sand and suddenly Lightning realized that she was no longer wearing Etro's armor. Her feet were bare and her ankles seemed skinner than she remembered. Had it been this way in her previous visions as well?
The man walked up to her and delicately pulled the elastic band from her wet hair, releasing it to fall freely over her shoulder. Lightning felt new confusion rise within her. She hadn't worn her hair in a ponytail since...
"You have lovely hair, Claire," the man said, deftly pulling his fingers through the ends in an effort to untangle it. "You should take better care of it."
Normally, Lightning would never let anyone touch her hair, but she was powerless to stop him. Whatever, or whoever, was in control of her body didn't seem to mind. He was close enough that she thought she could almost make out the color of his eyes, if not for the already typical lack of saturation in the environment that heralded his arrival.
The man finished, seemingly satisfied, and stepped back to admire his work. "There now. You really look like a young lady," he remarked, his tone affectionate. Lightning was struck once again by a feeling of familiarity at the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her.
The man patted her head and Lightning felt her cheeks warm slightly in embarrassment. When she was returned to reality in the next moment, the warmth remained.
The fourth time she encountered a vision, Lightning finally began to get something of an idea of what the visions really were. This time, the vision struck while she was strolling through an empty city square. She'd been walking over to the large fountain in the center when the familiar veil of soft light washed over her. She looked to her side and there he was, standing right next to her, gazing at the fountain with a thoughtful expression. His moonlight hair fluttered in a phantom breeze and his dark lashes fell over his eyes briefly as he considered the structure before them.
"I wonder if there was ever a time when people actually lived here," he pondered aloud, crossing his arms over his chest. "I can't believe that this whole city was built simply to give a couple of screw-ups like us a place to kick back until the gods finally come around to set us straight."
"That's what you think? That we're screw-ups?" she questioned curiously.
He chuckled. "How else can you explain us winding up lost here instead of back in the chaos where we belong? I mean, every other soul manages to get where they're meant to go just fine. You and I must be pretty dumb, huh?"
Lightning found herself shaking her head. "We'll be reborn one day. You'll see," she assured him. "Maybe there's a reason we're here. Maybe Etro or Bhunivelze or whoever has some big plan for us and right now we're just being kept here, waiting for the right moment."
"That's a lofty theory," the man said, shooting her a grin. "But it sounds as good as any to me."
He took a few steps to the edge of the fountain's bowl and sat down. Lightning found herself plopping down next to him and leaning over to rest her body against his side. He brought his arm up and patted the top of her head fondly and seemingly reflexively, as though this was something he did often. Lightning was surprised when their closeness didn't bother her like it ought to. Rather, this too felt familiar. The way her head fit in the crook between his arm and shoulder brought a sense of warmth and comfort and trust and she wasn't sure if the feeling belonged to her or Claire.
"If we do eventually get to be reborn," he said, his palm coming to rest lightly on her crown, "I hope you end up somewhere near the sea."
Lightning's face lifted so that she could look at his. "Say we end up being reborn into the same time," she supposed, drawing her knees up to her chest in what she personally found to be a rather childish fashion. "Do you think we'll meet?"
The man grinned again and ruffled her hair. "Who knows. I might not have time to babysit brats, you know."
Lightning took a degree of satisfaction in her body's actions when she pushed him backward into the fountain.
The visions continued. The more Lightning explored Valhalla, the more scenes she witnessed between this seemingly younger version of herself and the mysterious stranger who kept her company. She learned that although he couldn't recall his name or where he'd lived before his death, he remembered his age—twenty one—and that he'd been an only child. She learned that he'd been a researcher studying the Fal'Cie and that he'd written several records on the history of Bhunivelze and Mwynn.
In turn, he learned that she'd had a sister whom she'd loved more than anything; whom she'd saved from a pack of hungry monsters at the cost of her own life. From her own lips, Lightning heard the history of the girl called Claire; her likes and dislikes; her hopes and her dreams. And her regrets. Claire regretted many things. She regretted dying and leaving her sister all alone. She regretted the deaths of her parents, which she held herself responsible for. But what she regretted most was that she'd never be reunited with her sister while she was stuck in Valhalla. She wondered if her sister had already died and been reborn without her.
The man listened, that gentle smile ever on his face. He assured her that she'd meet her sister again one day. If she loved Claire as much as Claire loved her, then they'd find each other again. No god or Fal'Cie could keep them apart forever.
Lightning came to actually enjoy these visions—memories; whatever. They kept her sane in the never-ending cycle of battle and rest that was her life in Valhalla. Or maybe they were a sign that she was going insane. Whatever the case, she looked forward to them; even began to search them out by allocating more and more of her downtime to exploring the city. As the years became centuries, the visions helped keep her loneliness at bay. Until...
She was sitting with him on the beach once again, this time her back was pressed up against his warm chest and his chin was resting comfortably atop her head. They'd grown so close over the centuries that Lightning could hardly tell where she stopped and he began.
A bolt of lightning streaked across the sky suddenly and both their heads turned reflexively to gaze up at where Etro's throne was located, far above the rest of the city. Lightning felt a tingling in her whole body and she let out a gasp when she looked down at her hands and was able to see the sand through them. "What's going on?" she questioned fearfully, turning her head back to look at her companion.
The man smiled, but the gesture lacked much of its usual cheer. "It looks like it's your time," he answered, tightening his hold around her.
Lightning's eyes widened in shock as they searched his desperately. "No, that can't be! What about you?"
The man pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead and unwound one of his arms from around her to pat the top of her head the way he always did. "I'm sure my turn will come soon," he replied reassuringly. "I'll just be a bit behind you, is all."
She shook her head frantically. "But you don't know that! You can't know that!"
"Hey," he said gently, his eyes boring directly into hers. She wished more than ever that she could make out their color. "You and I are partners, right? We'll find each other again. No god or Fal'Cie can keep us apart forever."
Lightning felt her eyes moisten and her nose stuff up and she swallowed a sob, trying to be brave.
The last thing she saw was his smiling face. Then the vision ended.
There were no more visions after that.
Lightning paced restlessly in Etro's throne room. All she had now were the intermittent battles with Caius and her job as the keeper of the timeline to keep her occupied. She felt more alone and empty than ever.
Even if Serah and Noel managed to right the timeline and stop Caius, there was no guarantee that she'd get to leave this place, in which case humanity would just continue on without her; Lightning forced to remain in Valhalla in eternal solitude. She missed her sister. She missed her former companions.
She missed the man in her visions.
If those visions had indeed been her own memories, she wondered what had happened to the kind young man without a name who'd kept her company for countless years in this place sometime long ago. Surely he had been reborn or he would still be here, right?
But he had said they'd meet again. No god or Fal'Cie can keep those who love each other apart forever, he'd said. And he'd been right. She'd found Serah again. But...what about him?
I can find him. Lightning's chin snapped up in realization. She was Etro's champion; guardian of the timeline. She could look through time into the distant past and discover who he had been before his death; finally put a name to his face, if nothing else, and maybe that would help her find where he was now.
She closed her eyes and opened her mind to the flow of ages, using her sister's gentle light as an anchor, as she often did. Right now Serah and Noel were in the Yaschas Massif in 10 AF, although she was vaguely aware that it wasn't their first trip to that particular time. Curious what they were up to, she cast her mind's eye to their location.
As always, seeing Serah's face caused a rush of relief to wash over her. Knowing she was safe and on the right path helped to temporarily push away the loneliness. Seeing her sister happy and healthy was all Lightning had ever wanted.
Noel, too, appeared to be doing well; his posture filled with confidence as usual. Lightning didn't regret sending him to watch over Serah. He would keep her safe just as she'd asked.
Her gaze wandered to the person the two were currently deep in conversation with and her heart lurched in her chest. Her concentration almost broke when her mind's eye raked over his face.
It was him. Perhaps a few years older, but him, without a doubt.
Hope? Her lips formed the name, though no sound accompanied the movement. Suddenly the veil in her mind lifted and her memories were awash with color and comprehension.
How had she not see it before? Her mind snapped back to the first time she'd laid eyes on the man in her visions. He had seemed familiar to her back then, but she hadn't given it any thought.
She wished she had. So many of the oddities about her relationship with Hope suddenly made sense; why she'd taken to him so quickly; why he had been drawn to her more than to their other companions; why it had felt so natural to call him her partner...
"I'll just be a bit behind you, is all."
"Seven years," she whispered to his image. But you kept your promise.
oO0Oo
Woooow. Yet another non-humorous story. That's so weird.
If you made it to the end, I hope you enjoyed this. It was a enjoyable to write. I said I might try my hand at another Hoperai fic, and poof! Here it is. Short, but a bit longer than the last one. Sorry if it seems kind of rushed. I basically wrote it in a day.
I had this idea to write a story about pre-series Lightning and Hope, like a reverse reincarnation deal, and I also found myself really wanting to play with Valhalla, and BAM! the words just started flowing.
Please let me know what you thought. Or just send me a penis made out of symbols. You know, whatever.