Disclaimer: All FFVIII characters belong to Squaresoft. Andor and Lysander, on the other hand, are mine. I don't really want Andor, to be honest… But I am fond of Lysander.
Author's Note: Argh… I'm all packed and moved, but now I have only the most limited computer access due to the fact that I don't yet have internet access in my apartment. Oh, well.
AGAINST THE ODDS
Chapter Four
For Love of a Woman
It seemed prison cells were the same the world over. Squall stared at the blank wall opposite him as he waited for his vision to clear as he shook off the effects of the blow to his head. Hyne, but he hurt. And this time, he doubted he'd get a Potion for his troubles.
He rubbed his face, feeling the rough edges of the bandages under his fingers. He wondered how long they were planning to keep him here. Maybe until he rotted. Logically, he knew they wouldn't forget about him; this seemingly endless wait was part of an intimidation technique. Soon, he'd be taken from the cell to be questioned, and Squall didn't know what he could tell them. The truth? That he loved the queen? That she'd been his before they'd ended up here? Somehow, he doubted that would help prove his innocence.
A sharp, stabbing pain made his vision seem to strobe with different colors, and with a groan, Squall fell back on his bed, wincing as he jarred his wounded shoulder. The bodyguards hadn't been gentle with his wounds. Maybe he'd die from the pain; that would solve everyone's problems, wouldn't it? Squall wouldn't have to face an interrogation and probably execution, and Rinoa… Rinoa would be free to be with her husband and live happily ever after in their fairy castle as king and queen…
Right?
Wasn't that what Rinoa wanted? What she deserved? Did she really need someone as cold as he was? A man who couldn't express himself? When was the last time, before that terrible crash, he'd said he loved her? He remembered the passion in King Kielan's speech, when he'd spoken of Rinoa. Wouldn't she rather have someone like that?
Squall covered his face with his hands, considering what he'd gotten himself into. By jumping on to the stage, he could have ruined Rinoa's marriage. Perhaps she'd feel obligated to end her relationship with the king to come back to Squall, only because of their past relationship. Maybe his supposed death had released her.
But then his pain-consumed mind flashed upon those brief seconds before the bodyguards had taken him. Her eyes had seemed so sorrowful, until she'd recognized him, and he thought he saw hope flare to life in their depths. And her words, so soft Squall wasn't sure he was meant to hear: Save me…
The sound of the key turning in his lock seemed loud after the silence, and Squall's eye opened. A man wearing the uniform of a lieutenant, flanked by two armed corporals, entered and gestured for Squall to get to his feet. With a wary glance at the weapons the soldiers carried, Squall staggered to his feet with no argument.
Here we go…
* * *
"Are you all right?" Andor said, for perhaps the hundredth time. Rinoa ignored him, a slight her husband didn't react to. It only later occurred to her that he must have been genuinely concerned for her, but for the moment, all Rinoa could think about was Squall.
He was alive… He was alive! Somehow, he'd escaped the wreck of the Ragnarok and found his way into Andor's army. To his death… "Where is he?" she asked desperately.
Andor misinterpreted Rinoa's first words in nearly two hours. "He's gone," he told her, his voice soothing. "Don't worry; he won't harm you again," Andor said fiercely.
Rinoa couldn't respond; what could she say? Please don't kill him because I love him? She couldn't think of a quicker way to ensure Squall's death. Andor wouldn't be above removing a rival. He'd done it on the way to the throne, and RInoa had no doubt he'd dispose of Squall in the same way.
"He didn't mean it," Rinoa whispered, then bit her lip. She shouldn't have said that.
Andor frowned, his eyes darkening. "What makes you so sure of that?" he asked suspiciously. Then his face softened. "You're not yourself, love. You've had a hard night. Perhaps you should go lie down."
"No…" Rinoa protested, desperately wracking her brains for a plan to save Squall's life. She couldn't think of a plea that would convince Andor. Perhaps a more reasonable man, but not Andor. "I must know what's going to happen with S… him…"
The king sank onto the sofa by Rinoa. He took her hands in his, rubbing his calloused thumbs along the smooth skin of her hands. Rinoa kept her gaze downcast, not wanting to look into his eyes, scared he'd be able to read the truth in her eyes. "You won't see him again. He may already be dead." He was trying to reassure her, Rinoa thought with shock. But he couldn't pick a worse way. Rinoa closed here eyes, tears trickling down her cheeks. She was losing Squall again…
"Don't cry," Andor said awkwardly. "You asked them to save you, remember?"
Rinoa's eyes snapped open. She hadn't known she'd said that aloud. Hyne… what if that's why Andor ordered Squall to be executed! What if he suspects! Oh, Squall! She pulled away from Andor. She had to help Squall… But how? Andor had brought her back to his palace; Squall was so far away… "You're right," she said dully. "I… I think I need to go to bed." She pushed herself to her feet, almost staggering because her knees felt weak. She stumbled towards the bedroom door, relieved when she didn't hear her husband follow. She needed to be alone. She had to think of a way to save Squall, and she couldn't do it with Andor hanging on to her as if he'd never see her – or rather, his heir – again.
Hyne, let me find a way… she prayed. If only she had magic to help her.
* * *
Squall could barely hear the interrogator's questions over the throbbing in his head. He hadn't thought anything would make the pain worse until he was forced into the hard, narrow seat under a bare bulb that glared right in his eye. He found himself wishing the grenade had blinded him after all.
"Who do you work for?" Squall heard dimly. The voice was tinged with irritation, as if the speaker had already asked it several times, and was exasperated by his lack of response. Squall didn't think he could respond, even if he'd wanted to. His throat was dry, and he longed for a glass of water. But he didn't bother asking for what he knew he wouldn't receive.
Finally, his interrogator growled, "Things will go much better for you if you cooperate."
Oh? Squall wanted to ask. Would my death be quicker? No matter what he said in his defense, he'd be dead anyway. At least if he stayed quiet, he couldn't say anything that could harm Rinoa.
Squall shifted uncomfortably as the man continued his tirade of questions, alternating between sounding reasonable, angry, and pleading. He'd heard it all before, having viewed SeeD interrogations. They were all the same, even across oceans. Soon the man would grow frustrated with him for real and he'd be ordered back to his cell, where he'd have peace and quiet with his thoughts before his execution.
But that was not to be. The interrogator had begun to bully him when a calm voice interrupted, "So this is where you've taken him. Tell me, major, is it really necessary to bully an injured man?"
Squall's interrogator, the major, turned to face the man standing behind him. Curious, Squall lifted his head to see the man also, and gave a start.
At first glance, the man bore a striking resemblance to Laguna. He had the same long, unkempt black hair, the same green eyes… even the shape of his face was familiar. But his features were harder, his eyes cold. Even his voice had an edge to it, as polite as the question to the major had been.
"General Lysander! I didn't know you were still here…" The major caught himself. "This is the man who attacked the queen."
"Attacked?" the general said scornfully. "Tell me, major, who the hell would use an assassin in such woeful condition?" The major made a noise, as if to answer, but Lysander went on. "From what Corporal Madeen told me, this man wasn't even armed. And Melusine came to me, furious that one of her patients could be treated so cruelly when he was too weak to even protect himself from the bodyguards!" Lysander's tone turned bitter. "He probably leapt onto the stage because he believed Andor's shit about his queen being some sort of miracle who should be worshipped. He probably believed she could heal him, if he could only draw attention to himself!"
Squall watched Lysander under the fringe of his bangs. Why was this man carelessly tossing out excuses within Squall's hearing? Surely he must know that Squall could use one of them? And who did this man think he was to have the audacity to deride the king's speech? This man intrigued him.
Lysander turned his attention to Squall, who didn't flinch under the man's stern gaze. "Get up, boy. Melusine will have my hide if I don't return you in one piece." Squall obeyed immediately, though his body ached at the sudden movement and he staggered.
The general waited patiently, waiting until the door of the interrogation room had shut behind them before asking, "Can you make it back to the hospital?"
Squall nodded, grimacing as the movement sent a stab of pain into his skull. Lysander watched him struggle to walk straight, then sighed. "I'll escort you back before heading home," the general said wearily. Squall was about to protest, but his wobbly legs nearly gave out, and he had to cling to the general. Hyne, this guy saves my life and I fall all over him… Why had he saved Squall, anyway? He wanted to ask, but he didn't want to press his luck.
Lysander led him over to a military truck and helped Squall in before climbing into the driver's seat. But instead of starting up the vehicle, he studied Squall carefully. Squall did the same. On closer examination, Lysander's resemblance to Laguna was superficial. He was younger, and much more confident. He spoke with an accent different from that of what Squall's fellow soldiers did, and he had an informal way of speaking that implied a lack of military discipline. Yet Squall had heard of Lysander; while King Kielan was the one directing the war, it was Lysander's brains that turned what could have been a tyrant's hasty plans into successful coups. He was one of the few men that Squall felt he could respect… if only he didn't work for the man who had Rinoa.
"Where are you from?" the general asked suddenly, his eyes narrowed.
Squall couldn't lie under that penetrating gaze. "Balamb. Sir," Squall added quickly. He hoped the general didn't pry further.
"Ah. Never heard of it. Not a local, then. Forced into service, were you?"
Another interrogation, Squall realized. But at least Lysander sounded indifferent, rather than cruel. And it was blissfully dark; his eye had taken far too much strain today. "Yes," Squall said reluctantly.
Lysander nodded, as though he hadn't expected otherwise. He started up the vehicle and smoothly pulled away from the building serving as the occupied town's command center. "You know her, don't you?" he asked after a moment.
Squall stiffened. He couldn't answer this… he'd endanger both himself and Rinoa! But Lysander was giving Squall that keen look again when he wasn't watching the road, and Squall knew he couldn't hide anything; the general seemed to be able to read him like a book.
"I thought so," the general said, without waiting for an answer. "I was there; I saw the look on your face. If Andor knew, he'd kill you, you know that? Not an execution, like you almost faced, but he'd send you to the front lines, on a suicide mission. Forget the queen, boy."
I can't… But that wasn't the answer the general was after, so Squall stayed quiet. Instead, he finally managed, "Why did you save me?"
Lysander shrugged. "As a favor to Melusine. She was quite worried about you, you know."
Melusine must have been the medic who'd worked with him. He felt guilty he'd never bothered to learn her name. But that wasn't the real reason Lysander had saved him, he knew. But he got the feeling he'd never hear it from the general.
"Don't do anything to draw attention to yourself. Just be a good little soldier, and Andor will forget all about you. If you live through Andor's little war, you may get to go home again." The general's tone was wry as he added, "Though it won't be how you remember it."
He wants me to fight a war I don't believe in for a king I don't serve. But he's trying to keep me alive, and for that, I'm grateful. Squall didn't reply, and the general didn't seem to expect one.
They pulled up by the hospital, and Lysander handed Squall a small packet. "These are your personal effects," he said. "Remember, don't do anything stupid. You'll be in enough trouble already with your CO." The general glanced at the clock and scowled. "It's later than I thought. Andor's going to be wondering why I'm not at the palace yet." The truck pulled away, leaving Squall alone. He stumbled past the corporal guarding the door and was guided back to his room by a medic he encountered in the hall.
He collapsed onto his bed, exhausted. But not so tired that he didn't break the seal on the packet to see just what his interrogators had taken from him while he'd been unconscious. It wasn't much; just some change, his dog tags… and a slim silver chain adorned with two rings. Rinoa's necklace… Squall held it to his face and breathed deeply, imagining he could smell her perfume. I'll never forget you, he swore fiercely. Never.
* * *
He was going to kill her… No, that wasn't true. As long as she carried his heir within her, Rinoa was safe from death. No, Andor would probably find other ways to make her life a living hell. But she had to save Squall.
She crept down the silent hall towards the communications room, hoping she wouldn't be interrupted. Usually, the room was manned, but this late at night, usually a lower ranked servant handled the job. Someone who could be easily intimidated into forgetting she'd ever come down here.
As she'd expected, the young servant became flustered upon meeting up with the queen, and eagerly showed her how she could reach the military stationed at Milstone, the town where Squall was currently being held. She then shooed the servant from the room, after making him give his word that he wouldn't breathe a word of her nightly visit to anyone.
Her hands trembling, Rinoa dialed the number. She had no idea if this would work; was it common knowledge that she was more of a prisoner than Andor's wife? Whoever answered could report her right to Andor, and then she'd be in trouble. Perhaps he wouldn't let her leave the palace until the baby was born – and then he could arrange a little accident for her. Her voice was high with fear when a woman picked up at the other end. Rinoa collected herself, and calmly stated that she wanted to speak to the person in charge.
The major who answered listened to her demand to release Squall, then cut her off before she could go into hysterics and ruin her plan. This man had to believe this was what Andor wanted, and Rinoa just hoped he wouldn't wonder why the orders were coming through his queen.
But it was a moot point, anyway. After a moment of silence, the major said, "That prisoner has already been taken care of." He said more, but Rinoa heard nothing after that.
Squall was dead. Dead. And this time, he wouldn't be coming back. Rinoa hung up without another word, then went up to her room and wept.
* * *
Squall waited patiently the next morning for Captain Lynna Morz to acknowledge him. She'd called him into her office almost five minutes ago, and had spent those minutes studiously ignoring him. Finally, after reading through one last paper, she lifted her head to meet his eyes.
"So you're the one all the fuss was about last night." Her blue eyes, set in a face that would never be called beautiful, examined him with a gaze uncannily like Lysander's the previous night. Squall refused to show any discomfort, and after a moment, she nodded. "I don't have much on record about you, but you don't look insane, anyway."
That was promising. "I wasn't thinking clearly; I only wanted to thank her for helping me survive this." Squall ran his fingers over the bandages that still masked his healing face. He was rather surprised she thought he looked sane, really; he was still wrapped in bandages, and the uniform he wore, the one in the best shape, was dirty and torn. He knew he looked awful.
"Good," she said, lips quirking into a half smile. "I'd hate to have to explain to General Lysander and his majesty the king why one of my men was breaking in to the palace to see the queen because of a little obsession." Her eyes narrowed. "You aren't planning to break in to the palace." It was more of a statement than a question, and Squall shook his head, though the thought had crossed his mind.
"So you aren't stupid, either," she said, seemingly amused by him. "All the best officers live at the palace; you'd never have gotten very far, anyway. Now, I can forgive your conduct since you were injured," she continued, and went on in that vein, but something she'd said had caught Squall's attention; something that made him tune her out as the wheels in his head began to turn.
All the best officers live at the palace. Rinoa lived at the palace, too. And Squall was no military fool; hadn't he led SeeD to victory and saved the world? He was only stuck in his current lowly rank because he'd had no reason to advance. He hadn't cared, since death would come quicker in the lowest ranks. But now… If he could get in to the palace, he could see Rinoa again! It wouldn't be soon… It could take years, Squall was forced to admit to himself. But it could be his only chance, especially if his little stunt had made the king nervous.
"Private Leonhart? Are you listening to me?" The captain's voice held a warning tone to it, and Squall looked up guiltily. A good soldier didn't antagonize his superior.
"I'm sorry, ma'am," he said, putting as much pain into his voice as he could muster. It was easy, considering how much his body still hurt. "It's the injuries… I still get dizzy spells and can't really concentrate." That wasn't quite a lie, either.
"Go back to your bed, Private. I don't want to see you again until you're well enough to think clearly. I don't need an idiot under my command."
Squall got up at the clear dismissal, relieved that the captain didn't seem inclined to court martial him, as he'd half feared, or put him on some demeaning duty for the rest of his career in King Kielan's army. She'd only wanted to see if he was stable. Oh, she'd probably had access to all of Melusine's reports, and she'd likely have him closely watched for awhile, but at least she'd seen for herself he wasn't some raving lunatic who wanted to get his dirty hands all over the queen. Now, he just had to prove he wasn't an assassin, either, which he'd do with his soon-to-be exemplary service. He was going to have to do something he wouldn't like: Fight for a cause he didn't believe in for a man he hated against millions of innocent people who didn't want to be under Kielan's rule. And he was going to give it his all.
He was going to help countries fall. An empire would be born from blood he helped shed. All for love of a woman.
To be continued…
