Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, locations or creatures from Final Fantasy 8 – they all belong to Squaresoft.

A/N: this chapter owes some of its inspiration to Raine Ishida's 'Little Zell' stories, and Lady Aliena's 'Days of the Week' series.

Aftermath

Chapter 10

Waves lapped against the little beach which lay below the old lighthouse, their soft sighing almost drowned by the excited squeals of three small children splashing in the shallows. Two adults laughed and played with them, encouraging their charges to jump the wavelets which hurried towards the shore. Above their heads, gulls squabbled and screamed in a cloudless sky.

Adults and children alike wore wide-brimmed hats, although the late afternoon sun had lost its glare. A golden path was reflected in the endlessly deep ocean, whose surface was a constantly changing tapestry of blues and greens. A gentle breeze ruffled the water's surface like a parent caressing a child.

Beneath her improvised sun-shelter, Edea held court with four babies and the third of her carers. She had stretched a sheet between two tall rocks, weighting it down with smaller stones. Two more sheets were laid out on the sand, and the babies, two girls and two boys were enjoying the chance to kick and crawl without their nappies. One of the girls, somewhat older than the other three, had been using Edea as a climbing post for the entire afternoon, her tiny face creased with concentration, then blossoming into a triumphant smile as she stood upright on uncertain legs. Her triumph was short lived, however, as any attempt to alter her stance always resulted in her collapsing in a bemused heap.

Edea was beginning to turn her thoughts towards the children's evening meal, and was wondering aloud whether or not it was time to begin getting the children ready to return to the house. She scanned her little kingdom with renewed wonder at how quickly everything had taken off. One day the orphanage contained just herself and Cid – the next they had seven children, all under five years of age, and three carers. The speed at which this had happened still made her head spin.

Feeling the familiar grip of a chubby fist on her sleeve she turned her head to watch the progress of the most determined baby she had ever met.

'All right, Quistis – just one more climb. Then we'll have to go in, OK?'

The little girl ignored Edea's words, all her concentration given over to the task of standing upright.

*********

Cid's study was positioned to one side of the front door. This meant that there was always someone at hand to answer the door to visitors, without them having to employ someone else, and left Edea free to manage the children. He was deeply immersed in the orphanage's accounts when someone began pounding on the door. He was so surprised he choked on the mouthful of coffee he had just drunk, spraying brown liquid in all directions.

Frowning, he reached for the box of tissues on his desk in order to mop up the worst of the mess. Thump! thump! thump! The knocking began again.

'All right! All right!' he called, sticking his head out of the study window. 'No need to break the door down!'

Three faces peered round the opening of the porch, trying to discover where the voice was coming from. Cid waved away their questions with a sweeping motion of his hand.

'Just hold on a moment, and I'll come and open the door,' he said.

Once the visitors were all in his study, and everyone had introduced themselves, Cid offered them refreshments which were gratefully accepted.

'Well, if you'll all just find yourselves somewhere to sit,' said Cid, gesturing vaguely around the room, 'I'll go and find Edea and a nice pot of tea!' So saying, he was gone.

*********

Edea was just putting the finishing touches to baby Zell's outfit, whilst one of the carers was dressing Seifer. The usual gymnastics involved in dressing a baby were added to by the fact that Seifer seemed unable to resist grabbing hold of some part of Zell at any given opportunity – and several that were not. Zell usually came off worst in these encounters and was covered in tiny bites and scratches from his erstwhile enemy. No matter how carefully the adults watched Seifer, nor how severely they spoke to him afterward, the attacks continued.

The appearance of Cid on the beach was both unexpected and a welcome diversion. Seifer responded to Cid in a way none of the other children did; Edea often said, smilingly, that perhaps it was Cid's aura of authority.

'What brings you down to the beach, my dear?' asked Edea. 'If you wanted to make sandcastles, I'm afraid you'll have to do it on your own – we're just going in for tea.'

'Er, no, Edea, no – not sandcastles,' Cid replied, panting a little after hurrying through the orphanage and across the beach. 'We have some visitors that I think you should speak to – that I'm sure you'll want to speak to – straight away.'

'I'm intrigued, Cid! Visitors at this time of day? Lead on, lead on!'

She handed Zell to one of the carers and gave some brief instructions about what the children should have for tea. Finally, she followed Cid back through the old, stone building to meet her mysterious visitors.

'Did you offer them any refreshments?' she asked, as they passed the kitchen.

'Of course I did!' Cid replied indignantly.

'And did you take them in?'

'Oh, well, erm…….. I put the kettle on………'

Edea sighed and shook her head. 'You go on and tell them I'll be in soon – with tea and biscuits!'

*********

In a very few minutes, Edea was backing in through the door of Cid's study. She turned with the tray in her hands, but she was so shocked by the sight of the people before her that she almost dropped it. Her already pale face was drained of the last of its colour, and she appeared to be fighting back tears.

A man with dark skin and braids in his hair stood before her; in his arms he held a bundle wrapped in a white blanket. Next to him was a broad man with a kindly face, clutching the hand of a small girl. Around her shoulders, the little girl was wearing a pale green scarf, and that, more than anything, revealed the identity of the party, and gave a hint as to the purpose of their visit. The man with the braided hair was the first to speak.

'Erm, Edea?' he asked. When she gave a brief nod he continued. 'My name is Kiros and this is Ward,' he said, indicating the other man. 'This is……'

'You must be Ellone!' Edea interrupted, thrusting the tray at Cid, and falling to her knees in front of the little girl.

The child regarded her solemnly for a moment before nodding.

'And that must be your little brother,' Edea continued, pointing at the baby held snugly in the crook of Kiros' arm.

'Yes, that's Squall – but he isn't my real brother,' Ellone declared.

'Oh, yes I know that!' replied Edea. 'But I'm sure you love him as if he were?'

Ellone pondered this for a moment then said, 'He smells!'

'Well, all babies smell. But he'll grow bigger soon – one day he might even be bigger than you!'

Shocked by this idea, Ellone shook her head vigorously. 'Oh, he'll never be bigger than me!' she said. 'I'm the big sister – I'll always be the biggerest!'

Edea smiled. 'Well, I suppose that's true.'

'We have different last names,' stated Ellone suddenly. 'I'm Ellone Loire; Auntie Raine and Uncle Laguna ad-opt-ed me after they got married. But Uncle Laguna said that Squall should have Auntie Raine's old last name.' Her small face puckered into a frown. 'Why did he say that?'

Amazed by this speech from the mouth of so young a child, Edea was at a loss to completely understand the question at first. 'Er, I really don't know, Ellone. Grown ups do and say strange things sometimes.'

'Ain't that the truth,' Ellone replied, shaking her head in such a world weary way that the adults could not help laughing.

'Perhaps I can shed some light on this,' said Kiros, gently.

Looking up into his face, Edea was not at all sure she liked what she read in his expression. But she nodded slowly and stood up.

'Cid, would you please take Ellone, Ward and Squall to the dining hall and find them all something to eat?'

Cid agreed and, taking Squall from Kiros' grasp, ushered Ward and Ellone from the room. Edea followed to close the door behind them. She spoke whilst still gazing at the ancient grain, her voice muffled and indistinct.

'She's dead, isn't she?'

There was silence for a few moments, as if Kiros was struggling to find the right words to soften the blow, but in the end all he said was simply, 'Yes.'

Edea seemed to crumble before his eyes. She sank slowly to the floor, her face still pressed against the wood of the door. Great sobs racked her body, but she never uttered a sound. Kiros stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure whether or not he should try to comfort her. Eventually, the worst of her grief assuaged, Edea turned her tear-streaked face towards him.

'How?' was all she said, but Kiros felt that there was much more to her question.

'Raine went into labour early when Laguna left to look for Ellone. It was only a week or two, so it shouldn't have been a problem according to the midwife – but it was brought on by shock which, as I'm sure you know, can do funny things. After Squall was born, she named him, then the midwife suggested she take a nap. Sometime during the night, she fell into a fever and lost consciousness. She never woke up……..'

Kiros hung his head, his own grief clear. He had known Raine for only a short time, but had grown to love her dearly. He took a deep breath, and resumed his tale.

'Laguna made his way back to Winhill with Ellone, to be confronted with his baby son, but no welcoming wife. He declared that he deserved neither son nor daughter and had Squall registered under the name Leonhart. Then he asked Ward and me to bring the children to you.'

Edea was ready to explode with anger at this, but she realised at the last moment that Kiros was holding back tears. Perhaps there was more to this than he was able to express at this moment. Slowly she stood and walked over to Kiros. Taking him into her arms she gently stroked his back.

'It's OK, Kiros, you can let it all go, now,' she murmured, and was rewarded with the sound of Kiros' grief which he had held in check until now. There was far more to this tale, she was sure, than a father who simply brushed off his responsibilities when they became inconvenient. But there would be time enough to hear the full story; for now it was her job simply to help Kiros to unburden himself of his own hurt and pain.

A/N: well that's it – all finished! I hope you enjoyed this fic, even though it did wander a little from the facts of the game. Please, leave a review, so I know what you think of it!