Chapter 2: Say It With Flowers
Zone tugged his watch cap down over his eyes and hunched into the tattered coat he was wearing as he walked through the streets of Timber. His nondescript clothing blended in with the rest of the citizens of the city-state, who were in the same tattered, impoverished state as he was. He'd thought that once President Vinzer Deling was dead, Galbadia would recall the troops that still currently occupied Timber.
But if a recall order had been issued, it had not reached Timber. Some of the troops had left of their own volition, headed back to Deling City after the pay packets and supply deliveries had ceased. Some had deserted and presumably headed north to Dollet, or south perhaps to Winhill.
Some had remained. Those stalwart soldiers, stubbornly awaiting orders, pay packets, supplies that never came, grew increasingly desperate and brutal as a result. Despite bumper crops that were already ripening in the fields, the people of Timber were on the verge of starvation.
The Galbadian soldiers had seized complete control of the city, not even pretending to allow the citizens to live their lives in peace any more. They rounded up the people, those that looked strong and healthy enough, and marched them out to work in the fields, to bring in the harvests when they were ready…. and to put them in the garrison's storehouse.
They said that the food would be distributed fairly among the citizens of Timber. They said that it was a temporary, necessary solution until they could reestablish their supply lines to and communications with Deling City. They said that they would allow things to return to normal once that was accomplished.
"Normal" meaning the status quo with the Galbadian troops in control of Timber, the people grudgingly trying to co-exist with them and swallow down the every day indignities they had to endure at their hands.
As the weeks turned into months, the citizenry discovered that they had lied.
The dormant and mostly underground resistance movement had slowly, carefully begun reawakening. The Owls were active again, but this time in a subtler manner. Instead of the bold plan of actually attempting to kidnap President Deling, (which would have succeeded if the plan hadn't somehow been leaked to the president), they confined themselves to raiding the garrison's stores and distributing the results.
It wasn't glamorous or brave or impressive, certainly not like the mercenary that Rinoa had hired. But it kept people from starving, and that, in Zone's mind, mattered more.
He wondered, more than once, what had become of his Princess Rinoa and the SeeDs she'd somehow managed to hire. After everything blew up in their faces at the failed kidnap attempt, she'd disappeared with them. He'd heard, through the underground, that she'd been involved somehow with an attack on Sorceress Edea the night the sorceress had murdered Vinzer Deling. He heard that she had been captured and taken to the D-district prison, that her SeeDs had been executed. One of them anyway.
He'd been shocked to run into the SeeDs she'd hired on the White SeeD ship weeks later, learning that they'd somehow accomplished the impossible and actually escaped the D-district prison. Had attacked and defeated Sorceress Edea…. and that Rinoa had somehow been injured in the fight and was comatose.
Learning that her pet SeeD had failed to protect her had driven Zone to attack the young man, shoving him back and punching him. It wasn't until later that he realized that he'd attacked a mercenary that could have killed him with a single blow, and the young man hadn't raised a hand to defend himself. The lost, hurt look in the SeeD's eyes had given Zone a chill, because he'd seen that same look in his own eyes, every time he thought about Rinoa. The SeeD was in love with her, whether he was aware of it or not.
But that was the last time that he'd seen or heard anything about them. About her. They'd disappeared into Esthar, and the world had gone insane.
The thought that brave, beautiful Rinoa might actually be dead now made Zone's heart ache.
He'd never had a chance with her, but that didn't stop him from loving her. First, it was Seifer. Handsome, charismatic, with a dangerous edge that being a SeeD had given him…even though he wasn't a SeeD yet… he had turned Rinoa's head and her fascination had quickly become infatuation. To be fair, he had helped them to pull off some operations that they might not have succeeded in doing otherwise. Then he'd disappeared at summer's end, promising to help Rinoa get a meeting with the headmaster of Balamb Garden. They'd been hopeful that with the meager funds they'd scraped together, she'd be able to hire some SeeDs to help. Even one SeeD would be better than none at all.
Then, she'd gone to Balamb and returned with a contract, not for one SeeD, but three. That was the second reason he'd never had a chance with Rinoa.
A blind man could see that she was as interested in the remote, cold-eyed squad leader as he was dis-interested in her at the time. Like Seifer, the lean, scarred young man carried a gunblade. But that was their only similarity.
The SeeD (and Zone couldn't remember his name properly…something to do with storms, he thought) was quiet, aloof, and dark, where Seifer had been cocky, loud and bright. Seifer's eyes burned with the passionate blue of a warm summer sky, while the SeeD's eyes were also blue. But they were flat and cold, an icy blue with hints of green like the northern seas near Trabia.
Of the two of them, and Zone had seen Seifer in action with his gunblade, he judged Rinoa's mercenary leader to be deadlier. Seifer was no slouch with his gunblade, but he'd obviously lacked something, and had washed out in his bid to become SeeD. Whatever it was that Seifer lacked however, this young man had. He was a full SeeD, and a squad leader, while Seifer was not.
Besides, it was always the quiet ones that were the most dangerous.
He walked past the currently closed Timber Maniacs offices, with a sigh. When the Galbadians had started their crackdown, the journalists had been the first to suffer. They'd all either been run off or even outright murdered. The editor had been shot to death in the street right in front of the building while protesting the crackdown on the press. Occasionally, some brave soul would leave flowers or other mementos in tribute to him.
There hadn't been any flowers there for weeks though. Not until now. Zone stopped, seeing a bouquet that hadn't been there before.
He walked over slowly to take a closer look at it. Most of the flowers that had been left there in the past had been hand picked wildflowers, as no one had the money to actually buy a professionally arranged bouquet. But this…. this was magnificent. It was beautifully arranged in a crystal vase with a big white bow on it.
It sat conspicuously right in front of the padlocked door of the Timber Maniacs building, all by itself. Studying it, Zone narrowed his eyes, identifying each part of the arrangement and analyzing it piece by piece.
It had to be a message. In the past, the Timber Maniacs building had been a message drop for the Forest Owls, in part because Zone could pick up a copy of Girl Next Door while he was there, and nobody would think twice about there being a message inside the magazine he was buying.
He knelt down in front of the vase and looked for a card, finding one with a cryptic, nonsensical message: "STORM UNDER NEW MOON. SPEAK TO THE WINHILL GHOST."
That wasn't all of it, he knew. The resistance factions in Timber had developed a code that no one had been able to decipher. Because they lived in the forest among green, growing things, they used those plants and flowers to communicate. Each plant, each flower, meant something. The way they were combined could convey an entire paragraph, if the person was skilled enough in the use of the code.
So Zone studied the arrangement and the plants that it was made of: Nasturtium- Patriotism. Black poplar- courage. Coltsfoot- Justice shall be done. Purple columbine- resolved to win. White oak- independence. Nutmeg geranium- expected meeting. White mulberry- wisdom.
Reading the arrangement of flowers and plants, the message Zone interpreted from it was this: Courage. Be a strong patriot. Justice will be done and we are resolved to win Timber's independence. We expect to meet in Winhill on the night of the new moon. Bring the owls.
In all the time that he'd been leader of the Forest Owls, only one person he knew was that skilled in the flower code. Rinoa. Zone's heart lifted. She was alive. And she was coming back to Timber.
Storm under new moon…Storm…. Zone frowned. The weather reports projected for the night of the new moon were clear skies. Why the reference to storms? Then he remembered. Rinoa's mercenary. His name. Some kind of storm… Squall. So her SeeD had survived as well.
Zone got to his feet, glancing surreptitiously around, and casually strolled toward a nearby shop. Making a great show of studying the virtually empty store, he whispered a single word to the gaunt shopkeeper and left.
That shopkeeper in turn passed the message along to the next person to come in. That person passed it down the line until it reached the ears of those who understood its meaning.
By evening, all of the remaining Forest Owls were on their way to a prearranged and securely hidden meeting place.
Zone waited in the darkened forest, trying to ignore the clenching pains in his midsection. The goddamn ulcer was getting worse, and there was nothing he could do about it. Even if he could afford to see a doctor, there weren't any in Timber anymore. They'd all fled to either Winhill or Deling City. So instead, he popped another antacid and simply endured the pain.
A quiet rustle and a twig's snap made him tighten the grip he had on the revolver he'd stuck in his coat pocket. His father's coat, his father's revolver. Both fit him perfectly now, much better than when he'd taken over the Owls after his father's senseless murder.
A soft trill sounded from the shadows, and Zone narrowed his eyes in that direction. Western Horned Owl, he thought, identifying the call. It was Watts.
A bloodcurdling shriek sounded from another quarter, sending a chill up Zone's spine. Northern Screech Owl. Mykos. A soft hoot, easily identifiable as a Barn Owl, followed. Zedd. More calls, confirming the identities of those who'd survived and managed to make it to the meeting place, sounded.
Zone looked around in the dim light, seeing cat-footed shadows emerging from their cover to converge upon him. One of them came up to him and pulled him into a hug. Zone hugged him back tightly, pounding his back.
"Watts," He said in a low voice. "It's good to see you brother. Where have you been?"
"I'll explain once we get to cover." Watts answered. Zone nodded and greeted the other Owls that had arrived, gesturing with his head for them to follow him.
They threaded their way through the forest until they reached what looked like a thick copse of trees and brush. Another hoot sounded, and Zone answered it. The copse of brush moved, and suddenly it became a doorway built into a cleverly constructed and camouflaged wall.
Zone stood aside and let the Owls enter first, his eyes scanning the forest around them. When the last man had entered, he followed him, shutting the door behind him.
Then he walked into the middle of the large cave that they'd designated as their meeting place, and looked around at the gathering. They'd all brought electric lanterns or torches. The batteries might be expensive, but there was less chance of smoke from a fire luring any curious soldiers to check out its source.
"You called Census. Why?" A woman asked him.
"I received a message. One that all the Owls need to hear." Zone answered.
"What's the message?" Watts asked him.
"Has anyone been by the message drop today?" Zone asked. Some heads were shaken, others nodded.
"I went by there this morning. I didn't see anything." A voice piped up.
"Me neither." Said another.
"I was walking past it a few hours ago and I saw an arrangement of flowers. It had been purchased and sent from a flower shop in Winhill. It had a card with a message on it." Zone said.
"What did it say?" Asked Watts.
"The message on the card said, 'Storm under new moon. Speak to the Winhill ghost.'" Zone answered.
"What was the arrangement?" another woman asked.
Zone looked over at her and answered, "Nasturtium. Black Poplar. Coltsfoot, purple columbine, white oak, nutmeg geranium, and white mulberry." The owls fell silent, deciphering the code.
Watts stared at Zone, asking him, "Is it…?"
"I think so. It has to be. Nobody was better at the code than she was." Zone answered.
"Tell us the full message." Mykos requested. The rest of the Owls nodded. They likely already knew, but they wanted his interpretation of it.
" 'Courage. Be a strong patriot. Justice will be done and we are resolved to win Timber's independence. We expect to meet in Winhill on the night of the new moon. Bring the owls.'" Zone quoted.
The rest of the owls looked at each other, pondering the message.
"It could be a trap." A man said.
Zone shook his head, "I don't think so. The message has led me to believe that it was from Rinoa Heartilly. I believe it's her that we're going to meet in Winhill. Her and her SeeD mercenaries… One of them anyway."
"Do you know which one?" Watts asked him.
"I think it may be Squall." Zone answered.
Watts stared at him, "Squall? He's coming?"
"I think so." Zone answered, then he asked, "Do you have any news Watts? You sound like you've heard more about him than I have."
"Yeah. I have news. You asked me earlier, where I've been. I've been in Deling City." Watts answered.
"How is it there?" one of the Owls asked him.
"Bad. Riots. Fighting in the streets. The army is fighting against the local police and itself…its ugly. People there are scared to leave their homes. A lot have fled to Dollet." Watts answered grimly.
"So it's a civil war then?" Mykos asked him.
"Not quite. But it's close. Nobody's really got the upper hand, but one of the generals seems to have the best chance of anybody to restore order. He's well liked and wasn't real popular when Deling was in power. He's still working on getting the army completely under his control though." Watts answered.
"Which general?" Zone asked.
"Caraway." Watts answered.
Zone nodded, then said, "Well, as pertinent as that may be to us, we can't really get involved. Galbadia's going to have to fight it out amongst themselves. However, if it's as chaotic as it sounds, it should be easier to encourage these soldiers to go back. They have no support right now. No orders are coming through. No paychecks, no supplies. If we make things hot enough for them, they'll leave."
"What did you have in mind?" Watts asked.
"Dirty tricks. Sabotage. Raids. Same things that we've been doing, but now we'll have SeeD support." Zone answered.
"You mean, now you'll have hired killers to do what you haven't the stomach to do yourself, right?" someone spoke up snidely from the shadows.
Zone swallowed and unconsciously rubbed at his aching gut.
Deciding to ignore the jab, he turned to Watts, requesting, "Tell me what you know about this SeeD, Squall. I only know the story up to when he came aboard the White SeeD ship. I haven't heard anything since."
"Well, when he first met up with us, he was fresh out of the academy. A rookie. Probably the reason why Rinoa was able to hire those SeeDs at all. Someone with more experience would have cost far too much." Watts said.
"Damn tough for a rookie though. He knew his stuff." One of the Owls commented. The rest nodded. Rookie or not, the SeeD had been seriously impressive to watch. They all had been.
"You all know what happened after that." Watts said. The Owls nodded.
"After they left the White SeeD ship, I disembarked when we got to FH and kind of hung around there. I heard that they'd made it into Esthar, but not much info filtered out. Not until just about a week or so ago. Balamb Garden was still docked at FH, and I heard a lot of scuttlebutt among the SeeDs hanging out there." Watts reported, then he continued, "Squall was promoted to commander. Apparently now, he doesn't just command the team he brought here to Timber, but the entire Garden. You know that whole business with Sorceress Edea? She was possessed by another, stronger sorceress from the future, Ultimecia. Rinoa was too, that's why she was comatose, Zone."
Zone stared at Watts, trying to wrap his mind around that information. Squall, a commander now? Rinoa possessed by a sorceress? Was she still? She must not be now, not if she was able to send the message that they'd received.
"But…she's okay now, right? Please tell me she's okay?" Zone asked Watts quietly.
"Yes. She's okay. Squall…. carried her. All the way into Esthar. And somehow, they helped her. But…then this Lunar Cry thing happened and practically destroyed Esthar. Things got… really weird after that. I heard that Squall and Rinoa and everyone else had somehow managed to travel into the future and battle this Ultimecia and kill her. But coming back…Squall almost didn't make it." Watts answered.
"What do you mean?" Zone asked.
"I barely understand this myself. It's really hard to believe but somehow, this thing called Time Compression happened. Past, present, future, all compressed into one... I don't even know what to call it. Anyway, when they killed Ultimecia, it all started to come apart and they had to somehow find their way back and Squall…well he couldn't. He got lost somehow. Rinoa found him, all but dead. Last thing I heard though was that he was fine. Everyone was. I hitched a ride with a frigate north from FH, landed in Deling City a couple of days ago and caught wind of your message today. I hightailed it back here as fast as I could." Watts said.
"I remember that." Mused one of the Owls. "It was like being caught in a nightmare, my past kept bleeding into my present, I couldn't remember what was what anymore. I was having conversations with my grandpa, who's been dead for ten years, I saw myself as a kid, playing in the forest…it was really weird."
"So that's what it was. Time Compression. And Squall…. stopped it. This sorceress, she wanted to destroy the whole damn world and he…killed her." Zone said, feeling awestruck in spite of his dislike for the SeeD. He remembered that time as well, he didn't know what it was either but like the Owl that had just spoken, Zone too remembered it as a waking nightmare. He remembered watching helplessly, again, as Vinzer Deling murdered his and Watts' fathers. He'd wanted to leap in and stop it, but couldn't. Something held him back. A voice had clearly said to him, "you can't change the past."
It was like time and space had suddenly become as fluid and viscous as molasses, and Zone had tried to slog his way through it to find the time, and place, that he belonged in. Zone had been able to anchor himself to his memories of the present and the people and places that he identified with strongly, so he wasn't swept away and lost in that tide.
Squall however…it was no surprise he hadn't been able to find his way back. He didn't appear to be someone who formed attachments, and without an anchor of some kind, something to hold onto, it was more surprising that he'd survived at all. Perhaps he'd had one attachment that he wanted to return to but for some reason, couldn't make it all the way back. So, she'd met him halfway and helped him. Perhaps. The only way to know the full story was to ask them.
"So. Rinoa's SeeD, Squall…he's commander of Balamb Garden now, and savior of the world to boot. And he's coming with her to Winhill to help us." A woman said slowly. Zone nodded. It was too good to be true. But…the contract, even as vague as it was, stated clearly that the terms of the SeeD's hire were until Timber achieved its independence. He was bound by it, and being a mercenary, he'd abide by the contract and do his best to fulfill it. That was why you hired SeeD. They got the job done, or died trying.
Zone scanned the faces of the rest of the Owls, seeing hope dawning on previously hopeless expressions. The rookie SeeD that had worked with them in the past was returning as a seasoned warrior with the rank equivalent to that of a General. In spite of himself, Zone too began to feel hopeful that they would in fact, accomplish their goal. Freedom.
Speak to the Winhill ghost…the final piece of the message. The meeting place. The Winhill ghost was a pub owner who'd died nearly twenty years ago, and it was said she could still be seen from time to time, polishing her bar and setting out fresh lilies.
Taking a deep breath, Zone said, "We all need to be in the old Winhill pub Monday night to meet with them."
Squall spent the remainder of his day after Rinoa left reading through the rest of the intelligence reports that had come in from Galbadia. It didn't paint a pretty picture of the situation there, and by extension, the situation in Timber.
He studied the topographical map of Galbadia and decided that since their meeting would take place in Winhill, it should be safe to have Quistis drop them off there with the Ragnarok. Then they would sneak into Timber from there.
His mind busily worked at the plan, turning it back and forth and examining it from all sides before continuing on to how they might get into Timber. He couldn't really plan on what to do once they arrived, not until they'd actually met with the Forest Owls and got better information on Timber.
So absorbed was he in making out a list of supplies that they would need and GF's that would be most useful, Squall nearly forgot the time. A chance glance at his watch showed it to be nearly five o'clock and he froze, heart racing.
Crap! Squall thought. He'd said he'd pick Rinoa up at six…. and he had no idea what they were going to do. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing his pounding heart to calm.
Okay. Relax Leonhart. You can do this. He told himself, and then frowned. What did people usually do on dates? Movies? But there wasn't anything really interesting showing. Dinner? Well, he did say he'd pick her up at six…. and they had to eat, right?
Right. So…dinner. Where? Well, he rather thought that the cafeteria, while handy, wouldn't necessarily be right. Too public, for one thing. He frowned, stumped for a moment, and then remembered one of his favorite haunts in Balamb.
While he hadn't done much socializing as a cadet (correction. He hadn't done any socializing as a cadet), he had gone into Balamb on occasion. Most cadets did. Some took it as a welcome break from the routine in Garden and shopped, played, and visited local restaurants for something other than the fare offered in the cafeteria. Squall was no different.
Most of the cadets gravitated toward places that fostered a fun and social atmosphere. Places that Squall avoided like the plague.
But in avoiding those places, he'd found a seaside café that he actually liked. It was small; it had a wonderful view of the beach from the patio. It was quiet and off the beaten path, the food was good and best of all, nobody bothered him there. It was perfect.
Picking up the phone, he dialed the number and asked for the owner. He wanted to make sure his favorite table was ready. Once assured of that, he put his papers and maps away, tidying up his desk, then he locked up his office and left.
He hurried back to his room, took a quick shower and studied his wardrobe in dismay, awakening to the sad fact that in the matter of clothing, he was spectacularly unimaginative. He'd never given it much thought, really, beyond making sure that whatever he wore was clean. Well, clean would have to do.
He dressed in his usual outfit and took a towel to his still-damp hair in an attempt to dry it more, then ran a comb through it. Then he took a razor to his still sparse stubble. There was barely anything there, but he hated the way it felt and it looked even worse coming in. Finally he brushed his teeth.
Before he left, he grabbed a couple of items from his nightstand. He didn't even remember how he'd come by them, but was hopeful he'd get to use them. Then a thought struck him: if this became a regular thing between him and Rinoa (as he hoped that it would), he'd have to buy them.
Where did one purchase those things anyway? He frowned, thinking, then remembered Irvine mentioning a visit to a pharmacy. As most of his stories did, it involved flirting with whatever female happened to be in the vicinity, but this time at least, it also provided valuable information.
It occurred to him that Irvine might be a good person to ask about stuff like that, and then dismissed it. Experienced he may be, but discrete he was not. Still, that lack of discretion had actually educated Squall far more than he'd thought. All he'd had to do was pay attention.
Finally, feeling more prepared and not at all nervous, he left for Rinoa's rooms.
Rinoa meanwhile was also agonizing over her wardrobe and wondering what Squall intended to do for their first date…. beyond finishing what they'd started in his office. Her breath caught at the warm thrill that gave her. She hoped that they would.
Rinoa's visit with Edea had been very helpful, and she was grateful to the former sorceress for her help in managing her new abilities. Particularly the way she could hear Squall's thoughts and feel his emotions.
When she'd told Edea that she wanted to stop that, the woman had simply nodded and showed her how to shield her mind from it. Then Edea had told her about the bond that was beginning to form between her and Squall.
Rinoa hadn't imagined it, it was real, and it had begun when Squall had made his promise to be her knight. Despite the fact that he'd never verbalized that vow, the love behind it and the firm resolve that accompanied that love had been more than enough to establish it.
And their physical intimacy had strengthened it. Edea had confirmed that it was part of the bond. But she had agreed with Rinoa that Squall, still much too new to all of this, might not react well to learning of Rinoa's ability to read his thoughts. He would need time to settle into the role and become comfortable with it before Rinoa revealed anything more to him.
But now… now she had to figure out what to wear, and her limited options left her chewing at her lower lip in consternation. It wasn't like she'd had time to pack anything the last time they'd been in Deling City. She had little more than a couple changes of clothing and undergarments and the dress she'd worn to the SeeD graduation party.
Okay. That would have to do.
She showered and got ready in record time, the activity serving to keep the sudden attack of nerves at bay. It was crazy. She had no reason to be nervous, it wasn't like she had to worry about whether he liked her or not. He more than liked her; he loved her. Even if she hadn't heard it, felt it from him, the mere fact that he'd risked his life to save hers proved it.
A soft knock at her door caused a spike in her heart rate and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself. She glanced at the clock as she went to answer the door and smiled. Six o'clock on the dot.
Of course he would be on time.
She opened the door and her smile broadened. She felt a bubbly happiness that almost made her want to giggle, but she fought it down. Squall had shown up looking like…Squall.
Well, what else did she expect him to wear? His dress uniform? Or his regular SeeD uniform? Since she didn't know what he had planned, she had no idea of any of those other options would be appropriate. And really, she didn't even know if he had anything else to wear or if, like her, was faced with similarly limited choices.
She didn't mind. He looked good regardless, and had obviously showered, so no complaints from her in that respect.
But the look on his face when she answered the door in that short, slinky dress she'd worn when they'd first met? Priceless. She didn't have to read his mind to know what he was thinking. For once it was written plainly on his face. He looked…stunned.
Holy crap. That DRESS…
He'd seen her in it more than once before, and each time he did she looked better and better in it. It hugged her figure, showing off her slender curves and was so damn short…it made her legs look like they went on forever. It made him ache to have those legs wrapped around him again.
Squall swallowed hard, and tried to remember how to breathe.
"Hi. You're right on time," Rinoa smiled, stepping through the door and closing it behind her. Taking his hand, she laced her fingers through his and sighed slightly as she felt smooth leather rather than his warm skin. He must have put the gloves on out of habit. Same with the gunblade.
"So, what are we doing?" She asked him. She waited patiently for him to find his voice, finding his tongue-tied reaction very endearing.
"Dinner." He answered, and they started walking up the hall. Rinoa frowned. Dinner? Okay, that might be nice but if they were just going to the cafeteria….
"Where?" She asked, "The cafeteria?"
Squall shook his head, "Balamb. This place I like."
Rinoa gave him another brilliant smile, relieved. He'd lapsed into his normal silence, but she didn't mind. He wasn't talkative anyway, particularly when he was…unsure… of himself, she'd discovered. So she'd give him time to relax.
He glanced over at her and couldn't stop a small smile. She looked… indescribable. He couldn't find the words for how she made him feel, how she looked. So, instead he'd show her a piece of himself, what he liked. He'd never wanted to do that before. Not for anyone.
But for Rinoa…well, that was different. He wanted her to know things about him. Some things, anyway. There were other, darker things about him that she didn't need to know and he didn't want to share with her. Perhaps in time she would learn those things about him and love him anyway. Perhaps she already knew.
They walked the short distance to Balamb, enjoying the brisk evening. The sun was just setting, the light just beginning to take on the golden tint characteristic of a day coming to its end. A breeze off the nearby sea brought the tang of salt and the cries of shorebirds. Two things that Balamb was never without.
It used to bother her, extended periods of silence. It always seemed awkward when no one was speaking. But Squall had managed to show her that there were different ways to communicate. By his postures, attitudes, expressions (though they were sometimes hard to decipher) she was learning to read his silences.
But in giving herself over to the silence, she heard… music. Not the music that one would hear on a radio or play on a piano. It was too quiet for that. It required a soul that could hear such music and not be bothered by the silence that contained it. It was the music of soft breezes, crashing breakers and shrieking birds. Of crickets and cicadas. Of golden sunsets and glorious sunrises. Of soft kisses, gentle caresses, whispered words…it was the music of the world. Of life, and love… and she'd never heard it before she'd spent a moment in that silence at Squall's side.
Suddenly overwhelmed by that beauty, she released his hand, wrapping her arms around him instead. He glanced down and smiled gently, putting his arm around her and pulling her close to his side.
"You okay?" He asked her.
"Yes." She smiled, eyes sparkling.
"We're nearly there." He said.
True to his word, it was just moments later that they strolled into a quaint little café. An older woman who smiled warmly at Squall, showed them to a patio table with a lovely view of the beach.
The place was small, but it was clean, and decorated with little homey touches that gave it a feel of warmth and welcome. Fresh flowers on the tables, along with snowy white linens, gleaming flatware and beeswax candles added to the atmosphere.
"Can I get you two anything to drink?" Their server asked them.
Squall glanced inquiringly at Rinoa, who shrugged and asked, "Do you have hot chocolate?"
"Yes, we do." The server answered, scribbling something on his notepad, and then asked Squall, "What would you like?"
"Coffee." He answered.
"Coming right up." The server said, leaving them alone again.
"So, what's good here?" Rinoa asked Squall.
"I like the fish and chips. But they have other stuff that's really good too." he answered her.
She smiled at him, saying, "I'll have to try the fish and chips then."
The server returned with their drinks and they placed their dinner orders.
While they were waiting, Rinoa laced her fingers together and rested her elbows on the table. Propping her chin upon the rest created by her joined hands, Rinoa said, "So…now I get to ask you some questions I'd dearly love answers to."
Squall raised his eyebrows and asked, "what questions?"
"How old are you?" she asked. Squall frowned, surprised. Then he realized that he'd never told her, and she'd never asked about it until now.
"Seventeen." He answered.
"Birthday?" she asked.
"August. Twenty-third." He answered.
"Favorite color?" she asked.
"Blue." He answered.
She paused, surprised, and said, "I'd have thought it would be black."
Squall shrugged, thinking, there's a lot of stuff about me that would surprise you. Then he asked her, "what about you? Age? Birthday? Favorite color?"
Rinoa smiled, "Seventeen. March third, and silver."
"Silver's a metal, not a color." Squall observed.
"It's both. Your necklace is silver." Rinoa said.
"Nope. Platinum." He said, eyes starting to twinkle with humor.
"But it's a silvery color." Rinoa insisted.
Squall nodded with a slight smile, conceding the point to her, then their dinners arrived.
The familiar smell of the fish and chips filled the air and Squall reached for the malt vinegar. As he'd told Rinoa, the café did have other fare, and all of it was good. But the fish and chips were by far his favorite.
Rinoa had already crunched into a fillet and was moaning in ecstasy, nearly making Squall drop the malt vinegar.
Suddenly, he wasn't half as interested in his dinner as he was in hearing Rinoa make those noises in private.
"Ooooh! Mmmmm! This is sooo good Squall!" She was saying, rolling her eyes.
Squall blinked, then reached for a glass of water in an effort to moisten his dry mouth. Holy Hyne, he thought, she didn't do that last night… That thought left him feeling a little disappointed. Maybe he hadn't done things right? Maybe she wouldn't be interested in doing it again? No, he was pretty certain, going by their unfortunately aborted attempt in his office earlier, that she was willing to give it another go.
This time, he was going to make sure she enjoyed it. Somehow.
"How come you haven't started eating yet? Aren't you hungry?" Rinoa asked.
"Yeah." Squall answered, then dashed a bit of the vinegar onto his fish and took a bite. Fortunately, despite his distraction, his dinner hadn't gotten cold yet. The fillet was still warm and crispy on the outside, buttery and flaky on the inside, and not at all soggy. Balamb fish at its best.
He couldn't help but enjoy it. It was his favorite meal after all. He dipped a fat chip into a bit of ketchup and crunched into it, thinking that watching Rinoa enjoy her dinner as well was pretty fun to watch. In fact, thus far the entire evening had been incredibly enjoyable. Far more than he'd thought it would be.
He didn't want it to end. Ever.
Eventually however, they finished eating and despite lingering over dessert (she had insisted on sharing her chocolate shake with him. "You're too skinny Squall, you should eat more." She'd said,) they had to leave.
Squall left a generous tip on the table, paid for their dinners and ushered Rinoa out.
As they were leaving, the woman who'd shown them to their table said, "It was nice seeing you again, Squall. You two have a good night."
Squall simply nodded to her as they exited the café and started toward Balamb Garden.
"She knows you?" Rinoa asked.
Squall shrugged and answered, "I've been here a few times."
Rinoa laughed softly, "Cafeteria food does get a little boring sometimes, doesn't it?"
"And a little overly heavy on tubular processed meat products." Squall commented.
"Tubular processed…what?" Rinoa asked, laughing harder.
"Hot dogs." Squall clarified. Then he added, completely deadpan, "Contrary to rumor, I'm not a huge fan of wieners." Rinoa stopped and stared at him, eyes wide and mouth open. Squall gazed back at her, smiling slightly, eyes twinkling.
Then she burst out laughing as she finally got the joke. It took her a few minutes to get herself back under control. She was laughing so hard she thought she'd fall over.
"I knew it!" she gasped, "I knew you had a sense of humor!"
Squall draped his arm around her shoulders and they started walking again, saying, "I'm working on it. Consider this privileged information."
"How privileged?" She asked, still laughing slightly.
"Top secret." He answered. Then he flinched aside in surprise as Rinoa ran her fingers lightly over his ribs.
"Aha!" she said triumphantly. "You're ticklish!"
Squall snorted, "I thought you figured that out last night."
"There was…. a lot of other stuff going on. I guess I missed that." Rinoa admitted.
"Guess so." Squall responded. They lapsed into silence as they walked, the moon rising full and bright, washing the plains along the road in silver. The distant roar of crashing breakers and the fresh tang of the sea was carried to them on the air. The night had cooled to the point that Rinoa began to regret her brief outfit. She shivered slightly and Squall pulled her closer to his side, tucking her under his arm.
He'd thought about renting a car, and was wondering if perhaps he should have done so. But the night was beautiful, the walk wasn't far… and Rinoa looked stunning in moonlight.
All too soon however, they were walking into Balamb Garden again, nodding to the guard at the gate. He nodded back in response, but did nothing else. They were well before curfew, so Squall didn't expect any difficulties.
He escorted her to her room and waited as she opened the door. She'd said she wanted to finish what they'd started earlier, but in spite of that, Squall didn't want to make any assumptions.
Turned out, he didn't need to.
"I had fun tonight." She sighed, gazing up at him happily.
"I did too." Squall replied. They simply stared at each other, then Rinoa tugged gently at his hand.
"Come in." She invited.
Squall hesitated, then said, "You don't have to…"
"I want to." She said. Squall simply nodded and followed her into her room. She closed and locked the door behind him, prompting him to smile slightly, remembering how certain friends of theirs had a tendency to ignore such common conventions as closed doors unless they were locked.
The last thing either of them wanted at this point was an interruption.
Rinoa turned back to Squall after locking the door, smiling, and he pulled her into his arms.
Before he could kiss her however, she stopped him, saying, "Why don't you take off your jacket? And the gloves? Make yourself comfortable. I'll be right back."
She smiled brightly at him and went into what he presumed to be her bedroom. He looked around the place with interest, noticing the slightly cluttered, lived-in look. Finding a chair in the tiny kitchenette, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back, removing his gloves as well and stuffing them into one of the pockets.
Turning around again, he saw what he took to be a fluffy throw rug tossed carelessly onto the couch before he noticed the bright brown eyes and pricked up ears of Rinoa's dog, which studied him intently. The animal raised its head a moment, nose twitching, then relaxed again, laying its head back down on its paws and closing its eyes. Squall snorted quietly. Some watchdog, he thought.
Then Rinoa returned to the room, coming up to him and slipping her hands around his waist. She looked up, smiling, lips parted as though she was going to say something, but Squall didn't give her a chance. He kissed her before she could.
And what he'd held at bay all evening roared back with a vengeance. He deepened the kiss, pressing Rinoa close as his tongue dueled with hers. Her hands worked their way under his shirt, stroking softly over his smooth, warm skin. His hands too, traveled down her back and over her backside, pressing her closer still.
Somehow, though neither quite remembered how they got there, somehow they ended up with Squall pressing Rinoa against the wall, kissing her as though his life depended upon it. She had already pulled off his shirt and was nibbling on his ear, loving the feel of his hard body against hers, and the sound of his harsh, ragged breaths as he responded to her touch.
Then he shifted his position slightly and Rinoa winced, "Ow! Something's poking me…" Something was poking her, in a very sensitive spot, and not at all in a pleasurable manner.
"Yeah, well, that's kind of normal…" Squall whispered, kissing her neck, then stopped as Rinoa poked his side.
"That's not what it is. This really hurts!" She complained, then shifted a little, looking down. Squall's gaze followed hers and he groaned.
"It's the handle of my gunblade. Sorry." He said softly, backing off from her for a moment and undoing his belts, letting them, and the heavy weapon, fall to the floor with a thunk.
Rinoa pulled him back into a kiss, pressing him flush against her body. She began to feel a hot, molten ache low in her groin that stole her breath and left her gasping with every kiss. One of Squall's hands traveled down over her butt and snuck under the hem of her dress then froze briefly as it encountered nothing but skin.
"Holy Gods Rin…"He gasped, barely able to articulate what that did to him, adding roughly, "I don't think we're gonna make it to the bedroom."
"I don't care…" Rinoa whispered, attacking the fastenings on his pants. He groaned as her hand found and freed him, knees going weak at her touch.
"Where's…?" She started to ask.
"Pocket. Right front." He managed. He couldn't think anymore, the feel of her hand stroking down his shaft, sheathing him, was robbing him of the ability to form coherent thought.
The only thing he could do was feel. Feel her weight and warmth as he lifted her, feel the strength of her legs as they wrapped around him, and feel the silken fire of her body as he plunged into her. Again, and again, his heart pounding so hard he felt it would explode, his lungs robbed of air with every stroke. Rinoa stoked the fire with her moans, her head thrown back against the wall, eyes half-closed and skin dewy with sweat.
One of her hands clenched in his hair as he trailed his lips up her throat, the other dug into his shoulder, holding on tightly. He was almost rough, a slave to the passion that drove him to seek that release of tension that left so much pleasure in its wake. Rinoa too, caught up in the throes of their lovemaking, spurred him on with her cries, her moans, the gasps and sighs he'd wanted to hear all night.
When that release finally came, it was a revelation to them both. Rinoa cried out and shook, Squall gasped and trembled, her shuddering orgasm triggering his.
He came to himself with legs that felt weak and rubbery, his beloved still shuddering in his arms, heart still thudding fit to burst. He still held her pressed against the wall, her legs still wrapped around him, still joined together.
Rinoa opened her eyes languidly, stroking her fingers through his hair, whispering, "Wow."
Squall smiled at her, and whispered breathlessly, "yeah." Then he kissed her gently. He'd actually intended to do things rather differently, but the heat of the moment had swept them away. He worried now that he'd been too rough, that she was still to tender from her first time for this to be comfortable for her, but she hadn't shown any discomfort. Quite the contrary.
Still… "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Yeah." She answered, smiling at him.
He sighed in relief, "good." then he added, "we'd better…. uh…" He shifted, withdrawing from her, then set her back onto her feet. She swayed briefly, knees wobbly as well, and Squall steadied her.
"I need to..." he gestured awkwardly toward the bathroom.
After he'd taken care of what he needed to, Rinoa asked him, "do…. Do you want to stay? Here I mean? With me?"
Squall frowned slightly, then nodded, "yeah."
"Well, I don't know about you but I need to lie down. My legs feel like wet noodles." Rinoa said, heading toward the bedroom, fingers tangled with Squall's. She tugged gently and he followed without demur.
"Mine too," Squall admitted. Rinoa smiled at that.
So he joined Rinoa on her bed, pulling her close to his side as she pillowed her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. He blinked sleepily as her hand trailed lightly up his torso, playing with his pendant briefly before moving to his upper chest, just below his collarbone.
It lingered there, smoothing over a jagged scar.
"Is this where the ice javelin got you?" Rinoa asked him.
"Yeah." He answered.
She kissed his chest then, and whispered, "I remember that day. I was so scared. I thought you were dead. I thought we were all dead."
"So did I." He said, kissing the top of her head.
Her weight upon his arm was making it fall asleep, but he didn't want to move. He decided that he liked the feel of her head resting upon his chest, her hand, touching him. He wondered though, if he should stay the night and actually try to sleep with her. Having never done that before, he didn't know if he could or not. Perhaps if he was tired enough…
But her kisses continued, as did her caresses. The magic inherent in her touch left trails of warmth upon his skin, soothing where once even casual contact would burn and ache. Awakening him to another kind of ache.
"But…we're alive. Both of us." Rinoa was whispering, lips brushing his skin, breath raising gooseflesh. Her hand drifted lower, over his belly, caressing the taut skin and combing through the sparse hair there. He caught his breath and swallowed at the sensation.
"Alive to feel this. To be here together." She continued, reaching up to touch her lips against his. He shifted to his side, bringing her body closer against his, kissing her softly. Their kisses quickly turned heated, their caresses more intimate.
Rinoa's dress was shed, as was Squall's remaining clothing. As stormy and passionate as their first joining had been, this second one was languid, slow, and sweet. Squall took his time, as he'd intended from the beginning, loving her as thoroughly as he knew how.
Once again they were lost in each other, drowning in the sensations that they evoked from one another. Squall watched her, as he loved her, pushing her to the brink and beyond, holding her as she came apart in his arms. Finding sweet satisfaction in the fact that even as a rookie in this activity, he still managed to see that she enjoyed it. And mortally glad that he hadn't fallen victim to the dreaded "rookie mistake".
It was hard though, harder than he'd thought to resist the urge to selfishly grab for his own satisfaction, leaving her behind. In the end however, a modicum of restraint was paid off in spades.
At the end of it, he collapsed, gasping as his release rocked him, Rinoa still wrapped around him and holding him tight. He closed his eyes and held her, and just breathed. He felt too much, and too deeply, to even begin to find the words to describe it. So he remained mute and simply listened to her breaths, her heartbeat; felt her hand stroking his hair and caressing his back.
Eventually he had to move, and when he withdrew from her, he caught her slight wince.
Frowning in concern, he stroked her cheek, asking, "are you okay?"
She smiled and kissed his hand, "yeah, but I think I'm done for the night."
"Did I hurt you?" Squall asked, heart sinking.
"No," Rinoa hastened to reassure him. "It was fine. Wonderful in fact. But once more would definitely be too much. In fact, I might need a day or so to recover."
Squall swallowed at this admission, saying, "Maybe I'd better go."
"I'd like it if you stayed." Rinoa said. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, reaching over to caress her hair. He closed his eyes again as she stroked his back.
"I'd love to. I really would." He said, then added with great difficulty. "But…. I only had the two condoms with me, and…. and you need time…"
He sighed, "If I stay here, I'll want you again. And again. I have a feeling that I'll never stop wanting you. And I don't know if I can…hold back. I think it'll be better for both of us if I go back to my place tonight."
Rinoa laced her fingers through his, wishing he would stay, but understanding now why he couldn't. There would be other opportunities to fall asleep in his arms. Then she smiled at his admission that he'd never stop wanting her. She felt the same way, and was frustrated that her body wasn't quite on the same page as the rest of her. Not yet anyway.
He squeezed her hand gently, then got up and headed for her bathroom. She smiled as he left, loving the view of his taut backside as he walked away. The frontal view she got as he returned from the bathroom and started to put his shorts on was even better. She decided then that she loved watching him dress. She sighed, feeling incredibly lucky.
He sat down on the bed again to put his boots on and smiled over at her, wondering at the expression on her face.
"Come get me for breakfast?" she asked, smiling.
"I get up early," Squall warned her.
"Come get me anyway." She said.
He smiled again. "Okay."
Then he leaned over and gave her a soft, lingering kiss, whispering, "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning." He got up and left the bedroom, locating his shirt in the living room and putting it back on, then picking up and buckling on his belts and his gunblade.
He'd just picked up his jacket and turned toward the door when Rinoa emerged from the bedroom wearing a fluffy white terrycloth robe. She came up and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest briefly. He hugged her back, then bent down and kissed her again.
"Good night," He whispered. I love you, my Angel.
"Good night to you too." She whispered back.
He slung his jacket over his shoulder and left, closing the door softly behind him. It was after curfew now, but he didn't care. The entire Garden Faculty could be reading him the SeeD uniform code of conduct from start to finish and it wouldn't matter to him. The previous few hours he had experienced made any punishment he had to endure for being out after curfew worth it.
Then again, as Commander, perhaps being out after curfew didn't matter anymore. He had to stop thinking like a cadet. The fact remained however that what he'd shared with Rinoa this night was worth…. everything.