Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Seifer...Quistis...Trabia...none of these things are mine.

A/N: Okay...I'm no longer quite sure how I'm going to end this. I had what I thought was the perfect end for it, but now I'm thinking I might want to take this in a different (less dark) direction and just post an alternate ending. Any thoughts?

Chapter 2: Into the Dark

Seifer rolled over in bed, listening to the heavy steps going past his door. Tucking his arm under his head he listened carefully, noting the sound of the big basin being drug along the floor. People didn't normally show up at the tavern in late evening demanding a bath. Puzzled and more than a little curious, he brushed the blankets off his legs and leapt out of bed.

The past few months that he'd spent in Trabia certainly hadn't been the best of his life, but the people were nice enough and didn't ask any questions, which was enough to make him feel a little at home, if not comfortable.

Running a hand through his hair and tightening the knot at the front of his sweatpants, he cracked the door open. The owner of the tavern, a big dark man, was standing outside the next door running his palms along his thighs.

"What's up?" Seifer asked, looking down at the makeshift bathtub.

"Got us a lady," he grinned, showing more teeth than one man should have.

"A lady, huh?" Seifer leaned lazily against the doorframe. "What's she look like?"

"Oh no you don't," he waved a hand in the air dramatically and lowered his voice. "This one's mine."

"You think so?" Seifer grinned.

"Come on, you're going to leave in the morning anyway," he pointed out. "Leave her alone and in my hands."

Seifer didn't particularly feel like going on any romantic conquests, so he shrugged and nodded his acquiescence. The last thing on his mind was getting tangled up with some girl, even if he hadn't been able to get in a good tangle in a long while. His bed since the Sorceress War had been little but cold and lonely, most recently it had been snowy. There were some things that women just didn't appreciate, and hiding in the depths of the most unforgiving territory on the planet was one of them. For him, Trabia was a sanctuary.

"She's all yours," he announced, much to the bigger man's delight. "But I eat on the house."

"Deal."

Seifer had found that money was a commodity that people saw evil in when they had it and good grace in when they didn't. The limited amount of funds that he had needed to last him for an extended amount of time, and he felt that it was worth his time and energy to try and conserve it.

He ducked back into his room, leaving the other man to woo his lady in peace. Seifer, after all, had bigger things to worry about.

Someone was looking for him, and that someone was starting to get close. In the morning he would have to set out again for the mountains and hope to make it over the pass before the blizzard cut off the route. The snow was already deep, but the year had been dry and a few leaves were still clinging stubbornly to tree branches. With the oncoming storm, he could get to the other side of the mountains and cut off any way for whoever was trailing him to follow.

Yawning, he stretched and scratched distractedly at his belly. The cold, wood floor pressed up against his bare feet, causing him to shudder and climb eagerly back into bed.

His gear loomed in the corner like a dark shadow: snow shoes, a heavy coat made from the hide of a Mesmerize and lined with snow lion fur, thick wool socks, mittens, heavy pants, and boots. The things he had accumulated to travel across the ice and snow were made out of every conceivable type of Trabian monster and had a very distinct scent that he'd only recently been able to ignore. Against the pile of insulated garments and water resistant hide rested his gunblade.

From his vantage point on the bed, he looked over at the weapon, following its long curve with his eyes. Hyperion...it had been with him through thick and thin and never once failed him. Named for the sun God, the bringer of harmony and higher thought, Hyperion was a name meant to enrich and foster life. Certainly, the name wasn't one Seifer easily associated with himself. Yet somehow, the gunblade had fallen into his hands and never left. He counted it as his most prized possession, and a low smile crossed his lips as he envisioned himself fighting with it...like an extension of his body.

Shaking off the nostalgic feeling that was quickly overtaking him, he settled back down into bed and listened to the howl of the wind outside. He hadn't been in Trabia long enough to experience a winter blizzard. He wasn't at all sure how long they lasted or just how much snow one would dump on the ground. However, as he listened to the ice and snow slam into the side of the building he couldn't help but assume that the storm was at its worst.

In the next room, he heard something hit the wall and wondered if the tavern man was getting his lady. Somehow, Seifer got the impression that the other man didn't get a lady all that often and found himself wondering what little siren was bedded in next to him.

A brunette maybe? Short and petite with a fragile build?

Or maybe she was a blonde...dark hair maybe?

He envisioned her in his mind, combining details of all sorts of beautiful women he'd met in his life. The vision his mind produced was nebulous at best, but he found the activity of putting together a picture pleasantly distracting.

A door slammed and laden footsteps made their way past Seifer's door and down the stairs.

Seifer chuckled to himself, wallowing in a bit of male pride for a few moments. He laid for a few more long moments before coming to the conclusion that he wasn't going to fall asleep. Shrugging, he got out of bed and pulled on a pair of white and gray flecked wool socks.

"Thought you'd be preoccupied," Seifer chuckled as he made his way down the stairs and up to the bar.

"Yeah," the other man shrugged, casting his dark gaze down at Seifer's hands. "You can have her."

"Feisty?"

"Cold."

"No better than the blizzard, huh?" Seifer sat down and leaned against the bar.

"Not blizzarding yet," he replied. "This'll probably continue until around midnight and then the snow'll stop."

"That's good." Seifer sat back for a moment and took the mug of cider offered to him. In the morning he'd be free to leave without feeling hindered by the continuing storm. He also knew that the storm would have to continue much longer than the next few hours to completely cut off the pass. Silently, he breathed a long sigh of relief and looked back up at his host.

"You want her?"

"Hmm?"

"The woman...you want a shot at her?"

"Oh." Seifer hadn't expected the offer but seriously thought it over for a few moments before coming to the same decision he had before. He needed his sleep, not a roll in the sheets.

"Well?"

"Nah...from what you say she's probably not my type."

The two sat in silence for a few moments, Seifer taking long drinks of cider and hammering out his plan for the morning. He'd get up early, get a good breakfast, and then set out as soon as he could. He had no idea how far it was to the mountains, they looked awfully close but the distance was hard to gauge. He hoped to at least reach them by the next night and find a good place to bed down for the night, then continue over them the next morning. He'd have to borrow some supplies from the tavern, things that likely wouldn't be missed like a little flour. Then he could make a quick breakfast over a fire.

The whole thing was a huge risk, the kind he wouldn't normally take, but for him there were only two ways to walk and one was only slightly darker than the other. He'd risk death in the snow to avoid death at the hand of bounty hunters. Dead or alive...was that the kind of reward that had been put out for him? Was Garden behind it? Did he really care?

"Have a big breakfast ready for me in the morning," Seifer demanded, setting down his empty glass. "I'm going to be leaving pretty early."

"Sure, I have nothing better to do."

"Thanks," he replied with a teasing grin.

The woman's door was closed when he walked up to his room. He wasn't sure if he expected it to be open, he was just a little disappointed to find it firmly shut. She must have been asleep because no light was shining through the crack at the bottom. That or she was sitting in the hot bathwater in the dark. He had to admit, that was an intoxicating image.

"Been alone too long, Seifer..." he shook his head firmly and walked into his own room. The bed was waiting for him in the darkness, warm and dry, but empty. A little company, he reflected, would be nice from time to time. He was growing so weary of being alone.

Waiting there, waiting for him in the dark, was always nothing but a haunting misery. Perhaps loosing himself out in the downy snow wouldn't be such an awful thing. Survival...what was survival when there was nothing worth living for?

Troubled by the path of his thoughts, he turned his attention back to the woman in the next room and his image of her. Tonight at least he was safe, and that alone was enough comfort to allow him to drift off to sleep.