I knew that this had to be stopped before it went any further but some
things are easier said then done, especially when you have approximately
half an hour before your wedding starts and you suddenly decide that you
have made a mistake. It is far worse if you are the son of the president of
Esthar, she is the daughter of the interim president of Galbadia, and you
are both heroes of the second Sorceress Wars. Much worse.
The world media had assembled in order to document the historic joining of two well loved personalities. They would scrutinise my every move and document every detail, which occurred at the wedding. If I tried to cancel it now, I would be crucified by the press. The vultures would use their column inches to tear both myself and garden apart.
I could not forget that everything I did reflected on both Garden and SeeD. As commander I was the public face, even though I increasingly sent Quistis out to face the hordes. I hid behind my friends; I used them as shields while I retreated further into myself.
As if they could read my mind, I watched the first of the jackals arrive. they poured out of a silver mini van, cameras flashing and voices baying,
"Mr Leonhart, how does it feel to be marrying the woman you love?"
"Mr Leonhart, why did you choose Winhill to be married in? Why not Deling City or Esthar?"
"Mr Leonhart, one picture please!"
They jostled around me, pawing at my expensive suit and yapping at me. A murderous glare and a sweep of my arm sent them scattering backwards to regroup. Taking the few precious moments of respite I ducked under the timeworn arch of the church and strode inside.
There were people already sitting in the old, dark oak pews, my eyes scanned them, recognising some faces but acknowledging no one.
Closing my eyes I allowed the atmosphere of the church to wash over me. It was quiet, only a few whispered conversations and muffled coughs disturbed the stillness. The press would not follow me in here, outside I was fair game but in here, thanks to the combined legal might of Galbadia and Esthar, I was safe.
Sanctuary from those demons I could find, but from the ones in my head it wasn't so easy.
Looking up my eyes traced the beams that supported the roof; they were oak and covered in carvings, strange primitive faces - obviously meant to be guardian spirits, protective entities, but to me they seemed to be leering monsters, delighting in my confusion. A chill ran down my spine and I looked away.
A hand fell on my shoulder and I spun around, a snarl on my lips.
"Whoah Squall," said Zell, hands raised in supplication. "Why so edgy? You need to chill out."
"Whatever."
"Hyne man, it's your wedding day, I'd think you could be a little more happy." Disgusted Zell turned away.
Guiltily I watched him go. Both he and Irvine were my best men, I could have picked no-one else but the two men who had watched my back throughout the war. They were my friends, my comrades and still I shut them out. My isolation had deepened as my feelings of being trapped had intensified.
I always felt forced into my relationship with Rinoa, I had never placed her safety above that of anyone else on my team. She was no more important then Quistis or Selphie, Irvine or Zell, but somehow they thought that she was; or should be and they pushed us together time and time again.
Eventually I gave in and stopped fighting. I allowed myself to be coerced, and I even began to believe it; now I have to find a way to end it.
The world media had assembled in order to document the historic joining of two well loved personalities. They would scrutinise my every move and document every detail, which occurred at the wedding. If I tried to cancel it now, I would be crucified by the press. The vultures would use their column inches to tear both myself and garden apart.
I could not forget that everything I did reflected on both Garden and SeeD. As commander I was the public face, even though I increasingly sent Quistis out to face the hordes. I hid behind my friends; I used them as shields while I retreated further into myself.
As if they could read my mind, I watched the first of the jackals arrive. they poured out of a silver mini van, cameras flashing and voices baying,
"Mr Leonhart, how does it feel to be marrying the woman you love?"
"Mr Leonhart, why did you choose Winhill to be married in? Why not Deling City or Esthar?"
"Mr Leonhart, one picture please!"
They jostled around me, pawing at my expensive suit and yapping at me. A murderous glare and a sweep of my arm sent them scattering backwards to regroup. Taking the few precious moments of respite I ducked under the timeworn arch of the church and strode inside.
There were people already sitting in the old, dark oak pews, my eyes scanned them, recognising some faces but acknowledging no one.
Closing my eyes I allowed the atmosphere of the church to wash over me. It was quiet, only a few whispered conversations and muffled coughs disturbed the stillness. The press would not follow me in here, outside I was fair game but in here, thanks to the combined legal might of Galbadia and Esthar, I was safe.
Sanctuary from those demons I could find, but from the ones in my head it wasn't so easy.
Looking up my eyes traced the beams that supported the roof; they were oak and covered in carvings, strange primitive faces - obviously meant to be guardian spirits, protective entities, but to me they seemed to be leering monsters, delighting in my confusion. A chill ran down my spine and I looked away.
A hand fell on my shoulder and I spun around, a snarl on my lips.
"Whoah Squall," said Zell, hands raised in supplication. "Why so edgy? You need to chill out."
"Whatever."
"Hyne man, it's your wedding day, I'd think you could be a little more happy." Disgusted Zell turned away.
Guiltily I watched him go. Both he and Irvine were my best men, I could have picked no-one else but the two men who had watched my back throughout the war. They were my friends, my comrades and still I shut them out. My isolation had deepened as my feelings of being trapped had intensified.
I always felt forced into my relationship with Rinoa, I had never placed her safety above that of anyone else on my team. She was no more important then Quistis or Selphie, Irvine or Zell, but somehow they thought that she was; or should be and they pushed us together time and time again.
Eventually I gave in and stopped fighting. I allowed myself to be coerced, and I even began to believe it; now I have to find a way to end it.