In Who's Name? Chapter 13: Daybreak, a final fantasy viii fanfic

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Characters and universe borrowed from Final Fantasy VIII. Not owned by Gold.

. My paragraphs have a habit of being long. My last chapter was also too long—but I didn't cut it. Should have, I suppose. Sigh. Never mind, never mind. Thanks so much for the reviews! My ego is very, very happy—and so is my author's pride in my work. I was so surprised that there were good reviews for part 12. I thought it wasn't one of my best.

drummerbabe13027: The shower scene isn't really a shower scene. It was at the end of part 8, when Seifer didn't want to take a shower, just to get on everyone's nerves, and Quistis shipped him there.

Oh, and I read somewhere that Quistis is pronounced 'Kiss-tis'. As for Seiftis-y stuff, there's always Seiftis-y stuff in my chapters. They're hints, subtle little exchanges, and insights into our beloved pair's thoughts. Go on—suffer with Seifer and Quistis until the glorious end. *runs off laughing*

Title: In Whose Name?

Part 13: Daybreak

Seifer Almasy woke with a start. He blinked at the ceiling above him, feeling an unaccustomed sense of peace and ease filter through his very bones. It was as if he had travelled a long, long road, but had hardly any rest until now. As he lay there, feeling absurdly relaxed and unwilling to stir, something else filtered through his consciousness. He was holding someone's hand. Startled, he lifted himself up, resting on his elbows, and found himself confronted with a completely unexpected scene.

Quistis Trepe was fast asleep by his bed, her head pillowed on one arm in what looked like a remarkably uncomfortable position. Her hair, a deep shade of gold that appeared tinted with red in some lights, trailed off his bed, spilling across her shoulders and down her back like golden silk. Her face was beautifully pale in the morning light, and her long lashes rested against soft, flawless skin. The most amazing thing was that her fingers were entwined with his, resting firmly in his grasp.

Seifer swallowed, flushing scarlet. What was she doing here? Oh, Hyne and all other deities, she was absolutely breathtaking. She was more than gorgeous. Without her glasses, with her hair down, she was…she was…Seifer swallowed again. He didn't dare to move. He knew that he was staring at a combination that promised both heaven and sin.

Quistis. He had a secret little pet name for her—Quis. Just Quis alone. It was a name that sounded like 'kiss'. Everyone else called her Quisty, or Instructor, or Instructor Trepe. He wanted a special name for her, a name all his own, that only he could speak. He called her Instructor out of habit, but even he was aware that when he said it, it was infused with a certain undercurrent of tenderness. 'Instructor' sounded different when others said it. And if he ever found anyone calling her 'Quis', he would personally attend to that person.

It was difficult to know how to behave around her, especially because half the time he wanted to gaze at her unceasingly, and the other half he wanted to spend with his arms around her. He knew he was a voyeur of sorts—he'd catch himself freezing to a spot where she couldn't see him and then stare at her to his heart's content. He even found himself making up excuses so he could go and watch her. It was crazy, but he couldn't help it. He had fantasies of holding her hand and watching her as she smiled up at him with a look in her eyes that could only be called love. He also had other fantasies…of a more…vivid nature, so to speak.

It frightened him a little. He had been so sure, just days before, that she was very much attracted to him. But the glow of certainty had faded later—after all, perhaps he had just imagined her reaction. But she was free, and he had every right to win her over if he chose to do so and not run away like some pansy. Seifer grimaced. He had certainly behaved like a pansy yesterday morning. He hadn't expected to see Quistis—although he had been dreaming of seeing her walk through the door and look at him with melting eyes—he just hadn't been prepared when she did walk in, and it put him off so badly that he had behaved abominably. Quistis had ended up paying more attention to Zell, who was undergoing an examination by Dr. Kadowaki in the bed next to his, and Seifer had sulked in agonies of jealousy for the whole day.

Suddenly, those long lashes he had been looking at lifted, and sleepy blue eyes met his. One instant, one moment, one second in a lazy morning—and Seifer's cheeks burned as he found himself caught in wide pools of soft blue. In desperation, scrambling for some form of control over himself, he spoke roughly.

"What are you doing here?"

He regretted his tone immediately as she snatched her hand from his, looking away.

"You had a bad night," she said quietly, her usual reserve rescuing her. "How are you feeling now?" Her voice was impersonal, like Dr. Kadowaki's, and she still refused to look at him.

Bad night.

Seifer went cold all over.

High, shrill, mad laughter.

A woman, with the face of the only mother he had ever known, and the face was twisted with cruelty, marked with power.

"Seifer Almasy…my Knight…"

Numbness washing over him.

"You'll always protect me, won't you? I know I can count on you, my Knight…"

Cold hands and long fingers run over his face, over his head, through his hair. "My Knight…"

Again the laughter, splitting his skull, but he is on one knee, surrendering without a fight. Until…until something that has been struggling within him breaks free, screaming, and for a moment, the memories that spill over drive him to his knees, both knees, and then to his feet, as the truth spills from his lips and he draws his gunblade.

"You're not Matron."

He is breathing heavily now, his eyes opened. He'll not move against the world. He'll not move against Balamb. He'll not move against it, while there's still breath in his body…this is not the mother who loved him. This is a witch, a witch with her face but not her heart .Witch. Witch. He struggles, but he cannot move. He cannot move.

"They don't know who you really are, my Knight. Show them that they can't toss you aside. They wronged you and dashed your dream. With me, this is your dream. You are the one person I can count on. I am helpless without you, my Knight. Show them. Show them. They think you are not good enough for them…"

They had not seen fit to let him join their ranks. They had not helped him fulfil his dream—

Lies! screams a part of his brain that had suddenly awoken. All wrong! A dream, he suddenly realises, remembering what a certain blonde instructor had once said, is not worth the lies and blood that have to be shed to gain it, or it is but a false dream that has not been truly earned, and dreams must be earned—

He chokes and gasps for breath as strange sensations overtake him and stream through his body. He feels like someone has chained his neck, arms and legs to—to what? Empty air? Lightning tears fiercely through him, ripping through every vein, every artery, every cell, and he arches back, almost breaking his back, and cries out, not for pain—Seifer Almasy never cries for pain—but in anger and the sense of futility that is rising in him—

"Damn you, witch! Witch! Witch!"

A cold shudder ran through Seifer.

"Seifer?" Quistis' eyes were concerned as she touched him gently on the arm; she had forgotten about his rough treatment of her.

"I'm all right," he muttered. "Leave me alone." His fists curled around the blankets as he shrank away from her.

Quistis flushed, feeling mortified. She didn't know what to say. All she knew was that she could not disturb him. "It's almost half-past seven," she said in a low voice, her voice shaking slightly. "I'll leave you now. Matron is coming to see you later this morning, after breakfast. I'll be driving her here."

He made no response and she left quietly.

Approximately two seconds later, a familiar drawl issued from a corner:

"That was uncalled for, Almasy. You were mighty rude to Quisty, and you owe her an apology and your thanks."

The armchair in the corner shook a little as a long, lean figure uncurled itself from it.

"Well now," observed Irvine, "you've made Quisty so upset that she forgot about me." He frowned at Seifer. "You were screamin' your head off last night—I figure you were dreaming about Ultimecia. It took Quistis to calm you down and stop you from getting tortured in your sleep, and all you can do is shout at her first thing when you wake up."

Seifer did not answer. He was staring blankly at nothing in particular and Irvine grew puzzled.

"Almasy?"

Seifer looked up abruptly. "I'm all right—hey, how did you—" He stared at Irvine in complete astonishment. "I thought—"

Irvine shook his head. "You're really out of it, aren't you? It's a good thing Matron's coming today. Quisty left a couple of minutes ago. Get up, Almasy. Breakfast is waiting, and so is Quisty, so hurry up."