ii: the rose garden

Commander Squall Leonhart put very little faith in newspaper headlines, especially those that came out of Galbadia. He lifted the copy of the Galbadia Post that Quistis had dropped on his desk and skimmed the headline above the fold with abject disinterest.

"It's not true."

"I know it's not," she replied steadily. "What I want to know is why it's there."

Squall folded the paper neatly in half and passed it back to her. "I couldn't begin to tell you."

Ignoring the paper in his outstretched hand, Quistis glared at him. "Aren't you going to do something about it?"

"I don't control the media." Squall shrugged, and dumped the newspaper into the trash bin next to his desk.

"Can't you do something? Damage control?"

"Calm down," he said wearily, and sat back in his chair. Garden had certainly had its fair share of insulting headlines, especially after the war, andespecially after Squall had issued the pardon for Seifer Almasy. When it seemed to get to be too much, Squall took comfort in the fact that he led a mercenary-for-hire organization. They weren't supposed to be reputable, just efficient in getting their contracts accomplished.

Of course, it didn't really help matters that Squall was not exactly in the mood to deal with enraged faculty today. "I don't know what you want me to do."

"'Seifer Almasy Suspected in Attack on Rinoa Leonhart'," Quistis said through clenched teeth. "He wasn't even in the same roomwhen it happened, Squall. You have to issue a statement or something."

"Quistis." His voice was infuriatingly patient, and Quistis reined in all of her impulses to chuck any and all of the office supplies within her reach at him. "You and I both know he had nothing to do with it. And you know that Martine will do anything to get Almasy's name back in the papers."

She remained stonily silent. In comparison, Squall felt almost loquacious as he continued, "Rinoa is alive. We have firsthand witness statements that absolutely confirm Seifer was not the shooter. We have Fujin's testimony. We have your testimony, and we have all the video feed from the ballroom. He's not guilty."

"Galbadia is going to be in an uproar over this. If bullshit like this warrants front page news, who knows what will happen next?"

They'll burn me like a witch.

Squall pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers and let out a hiss of a sigh. "I'll issue a statement."

"Thank you. That's all I wanted." Quistis stood, her chair sliding smoothly back across the wooden floor.

Squall nodded. There was supposed to be a press conference later that afternoon; he would make sure that Galbadia's rumors were taken care of before they got to be too much. He checked the clock on his computer, discovering that Quistis's tirade had taken up far more time than he had anticipated. He had made a promise to Rinoa that he would only be gone for three hours, and his clock was ticking down to the deadline. "Keep Almasy under control," Squall said by way of dismissal. He held the door open for her as she stalked out of the office.

Warlock.

A warlock, then.

xx

"What did Leonhart say?" Seifer asked by way of greeting as Quistis seated herself across from him. The cafeteria was buzzing with the usual student chatter, rumors of Rinoa's mysterious assault the primary subject of conversation. Quistis, however, was keenly aware of all the eyes that kept flicking to their table from students who had definitely kept up with the current news.

She deliberately ignored them, stirring half a packet of sugar into her cup of coffee. "He'll issue a statement," Quistis told him.

"A statement. That's it?"

"It's all he can do. He doesn't, and I quote, 'control the media'."

"He would say something like that," Seifer said derisively. "But on the plus side, it means I was sort of right."

Quistis set down her cup and sighed. "Seifer, this is simply probably Martine bribing the press to try to stir things up. We have an absolute metric ton of evidence that points to your innocence. Don't worry about it."

They'll string me up by my toes, then. Or stone me to death.

She studiously ignored the voice in the back of her mind and jabbed up a clump of lettuce with her fork. Seifer studied her as she chewed.

"What?" she asked, her voice more irritable than she had intended. His gaze had gotten too intense, the silence too pronounced.

"Nothing," he mimicked. The impression was not flattering. "Nothing at all."

xx

She was sitting up when he entered, and smiled at his shocked face until he realized that the back of the bed had simply been raised, and the controls were grasped loosely in her hand.

"Hi."

"Hey." Squall gave her a brief kiss and sat in his customary chair, drawn up close to the bedside. "Sorry I'm late."

Rinoa's smile grew more amused. The clock behind him had clicked over to his promised arrival time only thirty seconds before her husband had walked in the door. "I'll forgive you," she said jokingly, "but only just this once."

He rolled his eyes. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Fine," she said, gauged the response too quick, and tried again. "I'm feeling much better." Rinoa watched as Squall surveyed the intravenous tubes running down from a metal rack into her arm.

"I would hope so, with all that they've got you on," he said, his lips curving into a smile as he reached for her hand, sliding his fingers under her palm.

She made a noncommittal noise, and squeezed his hand gently. "I'll be alright. I'm immortal until I pass on my powers, remember?"

His expression sobered. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you're invulnerable," he reminded her quietly.

Backtrack seven years, to a younger boy and a younger girl, an infirmary, and Kadowaki's patient voice telling him that she didn't know if Rinoa would ever wake up. A younger man carrying a younger woman across the never-ending bridge to Esthar on his back in a single afternoon.

His grasp on her hand now tightened a bit; she could feel the cool pressure of his wedding band against her fingers.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle, soothing to nerves he would never admit to being frayed. Squall's grasp on her hand loosened minutely.

"I'm alright." He offered her a more genuine smile, the private one he reserved only for her. "You are, so I am."

"That was cheesy," Rinoa murmured, her head lolling back against the pillows, her smile softening. Squall leaned forward.

"Are you alright?"

"Tired," she replied absently. "It's probably just the medication."

He sat back in his chair and nodded briefly. "You should get some more sleep, anyway. You shouldn't push yourself."

"Yes, sir." The words came out a mumble, and Squall worked the buttons to lower the top half of the bed until she lay horizontal again. It didn't take long before her soft, even breathing was barely audible over the dull beep and thrum of the machines.

xx

A revolution is coming.

Are you sure?

He hears, but he does not comprehend– the drumbeats are growing louder, the soldiers' footsteps falling in a steady march across packed ground (left, left, left, right, left).

Which way is the battlefield? Where is his grand arena?

This is your war. Your glory. Your dream.

He spins, and Hyperion is heavy in his hand, throwing him off, sending him reeling like a top into stringy grey clouds.

(Left, left, left, right, left).

His feet are marching, his arms moving in time, wires in his knees and in his wrists, and someone is pulling all the strings.

(Left, left, left, right, left.)

I am not your marionette!

And she cackles, whispering from a hundred different directions that he is wrong.

xx

"Sir, how do you feel about Galbadia's recent declarations?"

"Commander Leonhart, how will this affect your status as leader of Balamb Garden?"

"What can you tell us about Seifer Almasy? Are you still extending protection to him after what Headmaster Martine's said?"

Camera flashes went off from all sides, and Squall schooled his features into absolute impassivity. "Headmaster Martine has issued a slanderous statement against Almasy. Balamb Garden has ample information that disproves what Galbadia's newspapers are saying."

"Sir, so you're saying you aren't concerned at all about the rumors circulating?"

"Seifer Almasy is innocent."

"Commander! What about your wife? Does she have any comment?"

"No comment."

"Why do you think someone shot her?"

"I have no idea."

"Sir, people are saying that it's because her sorceress abilities are becoming a danger to the population. What do you think?"

"My wife is not a threat."

"Well, what if she becomes one? What will you do?"

"No comment."

Burn the witch.

He scanned the crowd sharply, brow furrowed, and Quistis caught his expression, rising gracefully from her seat.

"Thank you all for coming. No further questions, please."

"Leonhart, sir, commander, Squall, Commander, Commander Leonhart! Sir, sir, sir!"

The doors slammed behind the last of the paparazzi, and Squall yanked at the collar of his uniform before he could stop himself, undoing the top button as he sat back in the cold, unforgiving metal chair.

Burn the witch.

"All clear, sir," Xu said, clipping her radio back to her belt. "The garage should be clear if you want to get out of here and see your wife."

He nodded. "Thanks."

As he walked through the nearly deserted halls of Garden, Squall reflected that Quistis had impeccable timing when it came to ending the conference. No cadets, no reporters, no one to bother him, except...

"Almasy," he greeted coolly.

"Leonhart."

The knight fell into step beside him as Squall turned the corner and headed for the elevator. Without faltering, Squall said, "I don't want you to go visit Rinoa."

"Won't that make me look more guilty?" Seifer sneered without missing a beat. "I didn't shoot her, and I'm not going to do anything that'll give Galbadia more crap to write about me."

"I've issued a statement."

Seifer let out a bark of laughter. "Like that will actually stop anyone." He pressed the button before Squall could get to it, and the commander rolled his eyes, stepping back as the doors slid open and several SeeDs exited.

"Instructor Trepe is still in the conference room, if you're looking for her." He stepped inside the waiting elevator car and the doors started to slide closed.

Seifer's hand slammed against one of them, forcing the doors back open. "I'm dreaming about her again," he said abruptly.

"Rinoa?" The irritation in Squall's voice was stronger than he had banked on for such an offhand response. Funny, that. He thumbed the "door close" button.

"No, you idiot."

The commander stopped, his hand still on the control bank. "Ultimecia."

"Forget it," Seifer said curtly. "Just forget it."

He stepped back and let the doors close.

xx

She hadn't even noticed that she had nicked her index finger on the knife until she glanced down and realized that cucumbers generally weren't supposed to have red juice. With a sigh, Quistis shut off the faucet, the stream of hot water dissipating into nothing but a few final drips. A cursory examination of the wound revealed little more than a thin slice, some rogue drops of blood still oozing up through the cut. There were no bandages to be found in a brief rummage through the drawers, and so she had settled for tearing a paper towel into shreds and making do.

It was as she was putting the finishing touches on her paper bandage that Seifer entered, his eyes narrowed and his lips set in a perfectly horizontal line.

"Hello."

He gave her only the briefest of glances before disappearing into the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. It rattled in its frame.

She looked down and found that her finger was still bleeding, the red dots spreading across the pristine white of the towel.

"Are there any bandages in there?" she called.

There was the sound of things thumping, things falling, and Quistis was fairly certain that the next time she entered the bathroom, all the medicine cabinet's contents would be in the sink.

The door jerked open, and Seifer handed her one, the wrapper already torn off of it.

"Thanks."

He watched her as she peeled away her makeshift wrappings. "What happened?"

"Culinary accident," she replied, smiling in an effort to lighten his mood. "Nothing a qualified SeeD can't handle."

The joke fell flat. Seifer leaned against the door frame and regarded her like she was some sort of curious specimen under glass. Quistis had long ago learned how to deal with that look; she caught his gaze and held it, to let him know that she had caught on to the trick.

"Did you know," he said, "that Leonhart has ordered me to not see Rinoa?"

Quistis shook her head, breaking the impromptu stare down. "Why?"

Seifer shrugged, and his response was clear in the movement alone: I don't know, that's why I asked you. "Didn't you ever learn not to answer a question with a question?"

"Squall is doing damage control right now, Seifer. I'm sure he has a reason for keeping you away from Rinoa. It would put you right in the middle of the public spotlight; you'd probably be better off staying out of that sort of mess." Quistis moved away from the bathroom door and headed back into the kitchen. There was blood drying on the cutting board, and she attacked it with a sponge before Seifer could comment on it.

He hovered in front of the refrigerator, glancing from magnet to scarce magnet. The shopping list, the latest inter-Garden faculty memos, one ridiculous candid photo that Selphie had snapped before...before.

"Damage control," he murmured. "Right."

The sounds of her cleaning stopped. "I thought you wanted that. Unless you suddenly want to be burned at the stake, as you so aptly put it."

He shook his head. "I was waiting for the other shoe to drop," he said.

"I think it already has."