Purgatio

by Marcus1

Email sponger42yahoo.com for Location of Most Recently Updated Purgatio Website

3. Hostes Hostium

Chapter 3:

Hostes Hostium

"And that about sums it up." Zell finished.

Squall nodded. "That all makes sense."

He was referring to the hurried truce that had been established shortly after the Galbadian defeat in Timber. Apparently, the information they had received from a captured officer cut down from a rather tall Oak tree had been right on the money. The paratroop drop into Timber had been Galbadia's last attempt at reclaiming the rebelling republic. Galbadian citizens had become fed up with dealing with the constant uprisings in the occupied territory—and with the army's inability to suppress such guerrilla actions, and were demanding an immediate end to hostilities in Timber—those that weren't rioting in the streets of Deling City or actively rebelling against their local Galbadian authorities that was. The Galbadian military, as well, was tired of throwing men and supplies at the seemingly unsolvable problems caused by the inexhaustible supply of resistance fighters that Timber sported. In light of all this, the Galbadian government was willing to grant Timber its independence, releasing all political prisoners who were Timber natives, and possibly even consider paying some limited reparations for the damage done to the capital during the fighting. In return, Galbadia was requesting the release of all prisoners of war captured during the brief but intense fighting. Apparently, domestic disturbances within Galbadia were becoming so bad that the military needed every soldier it had just to hold the country together. Toward negotiating a peace accord of this nature, Galbadia had invited the leaders—or representatives of the leaders—of the Timber resistance to parlay—along with representatives of Balamb Garden and Esthar at a summit in Dollet.

Of course, this news had spread faster than wildfire among members of the resistance and the sounds of the great celebration—that had started with a small toast in the bar-turned-revolutionary headquarters-turned-bar again to the end of Timber's long war for independence—wafted into the second-floor room of the Timber Lodge. Remarkably, the hotel was more-or-less intact even after the heavy bombing that the city had undergone.

"Okay, everyone, nice work." Squall shrugged. "It's been a busy day, so—"

"Busy day! Busy day he says!" Irvine exclaimed.

"Oh, tut tut, nice work saving the planet and all everybody, it's been a busy day so go get some rest." Selphie joined in, in a—rather poor, Squall thought—imitation of Squall.

"We didn't save the planet." Squall corrected her.

"Oh no, that's right, we did THAT yesterday!" Zell shouted.

"Hm… lets see, what's on the itinerary for today…" Rinoa began her own imitation, going along with Selphie's. "…save the planet before noon, light lunch, liberate a small country in the afternoon, take a nap…" She shoved Squall playfully. "Doesn't anything ever faze you?" She laughed.

You do.

"Look at him!" Selphie continued. "Right now, he's probably thinking about how we should be reporting back for our next assignment!"

"Look, just because we happen to be in the right places at the right times… and yes, we probably should check in with the headmaster soon." Squall said seriously.

Irvine smacked a hand to his forehead.

"Don't you dare!" Selphie said.

"Grab his transmitter!" Rinoa shouted, and the entire group tackled Squall.

In the scuffle that ensued Squall gasped as he was driven to the floor. "Mutiny!"

"That's right, Ahab!" Rinoa giggled as she pinned Squall's arms. "Get it now, guys!"

Zell managed to snatch the communication equipment. "I got it! Run!" He shouted triumphantly, and lit out down the hall.

Irvine and Selphie followed hard on his heels, Selphie shouting "Whoo-Hoo! Let's hit the PAAR-TAY!"

That left Squall still flat on his back, arms still pinned down by the Rinoa, their faces only inches apart. Rinoa looked down at him. "You really weren't serious about calling Cid, were you?"

Squall stared up at her defiantly. "Maybe."

"Well then," a sly smile tugged at the corners of Rinoa's mouth. "I guess I'd better not take any chances and shut you up good." She bent her head down past the tiny bit of air that had separated them, and Squall was most definitely silenced. In fact, he had just forgotten about anything and everything else in the world but the sorceress's kiss when an—apparently inebriated—reveling post-revolutionary fighter chose the open doorframe of the room on which to steady himself. Chancing to glance in, he saw Squall and Rinoa.

"WHOOOOAHHH!" He hollered. "Go for it!!" Courteously slamming the door with a final "Freeee Timber!!" he could be heard careening down the hallway shouting happily.

As a startled Rinoa released his arms, Squall placed a hand over his face. Daring to peer out from between his fingers, he saw a red-faced Rinoa making a similar gesture. They giggled at each other.

Finally Squall sat up. "Well, shall we see what's going on out there?" He waved at the window.

Rinoa's eyes widened in mock-shock. "Wow, is the legendary hard-ass, Squall Leonhart, suggesting that we go out and enjoy ourselves for once?"

Squall shook his head. "Hell no, I just want to get my transmitter back."

Squall and Rinoa made their way through the masses of people clogging what remained of Timber's aboveground street system. The revelers were all revolutionaries and their families who had opted to stick it out instead of fleeing Timber when the shooting started. Squall was amazed that so many people had remained in the city. It had seemed far more deserted during the fighting—though he had only managed to tour a small section of the former rebels underground shelter system. As things were, most of the night's partygoers were tired, dirty, and a bit dazed from the fighting. Most of them no longer had homes to return to or businesses left to tend, but all such concerns were swept away in the great relief everyone felt just to be alive… and free!

From some hidden reserves, stale rations and caustic home-brewed spirits had been dredged up by enterprising souls and the zeal for life of those present turned such plain fare into delicacies fit for a kingly feast.

Rinoa, with Squall in tow finally reached Timber's ruined railroad depot, where the one remaining engine had been hooked into a jury-rigged sound-amplification and lighting system. Squall couldn't imagine who had managed to throw together such a setup in the short time between the cease-fire and nightfall. Well, that's not quite true… he could, indeed imagine such a person, and she happened to be short and exceedingly high-spirited.

At the moment, a makeshift band of a dozen odd instruments was slaughtering some unrecognizable tune. People were spilled across several different lines of defunct railroad track, some shaping up into a semblance of a line dance, some dancing in couples, and most just hopping about at random, expressing their happiness at being alive. Rinoa happily drifted from group to group, sometimes shouting joyful salutations to old acquaintances, sometimes attempting to show Squall the proper form of dance to go with whatever the band happened to be belting out at the moment. Eventually, they wound their way around to the rear of the station's remains. Here, the crowd thinned, and in darkened corners, and under wrecked railroad cars, couples sat and talked, or kissed, or…

Squall coughed and looked away.

Rinoa laughed at his embarrassment and tugged on his arm. "Come on, I want to show you what Timber used to be like." She led him through a gaping hole blown out of the outer wall of the station.

They walked together through a deserted square on the outskirts of the town. Rinoa waved her arm. "My grandfather used to tell me when I was little about how all of this used to look." She pointed to the shell of a bombed-out building. "He said there used to be a little brook that ran from there, right through this spot."

"Your grandfather?" It was the first Squall had ever heard Rinoa mention her extended family.

"Yes, he, and… that man… and my grandmother used to live here in Timber together. Then that man ran away to Galbadia to join their army." She sighed.

And when he came back, it was as a conqueror? No wonder there's a history of trouble in your family.

Rinoa looked at him, seeming to read his thoughts again. "He betrayed his heritage, Squall." She waved at the ruined square. "Look at this place. Even before this all happened, he let the Galbadians come in and destroy everything." Rinoa sighed again. "I used to see such wonderful things in my mind when my grandfather would talk about how the forest looked here. I wish I could show you what he showed me." She waved an arm again at the broken buildings and smoking rubble.

But Squall could see, for as Rinoa waved her arm, she traced out an arc—like wiping frost from a window in the wintertime. Through air her arm had disturbed, a scene appeared of, Squall could only guess, an earlier time. Just as Rinoa had said, a sparkling, clear brook wound its way between stately, moss-covered trees. Dappled moonlight sifted down from the canopy overhead. Rinoa gasped at the sight, and like a soap bubble, the window disappeared with an almost audible pop.

"Beautiful." Squall said. But Rinoa had turned away from him. He placed a hand on her shoulder. To his surprise, she was shaking. "Rinoa, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing… I'll be ok… just give me a second…" Rinoa's voice broke and she tried to push Squall away, hiding her face.

Maybe before he knew her, Squall might have chosen to give Rinoa time to compose herself, but now he knew that was not really what she wanted. He placed his other hand on her shoulder. "It's ok, you can tell me."

Rinoa turned and buried her face in Squall's chest, but not before he saw the starlight glint off twin trails of tears down Rinoa's face. He felt her shudder against him with the effort to hide her sobs.

What do I do now? Squall fought down a rising panic. I don't know how to deal with this! What do I say? What do I do? He gently stroke Rinoa's hair. "It's okay. It'll be okay." He whispered, as if he had all the answers.

When she could find her voice again, Rinoa's words were muffled. "Oh God, I'm sorry." She sniffed. "It's just…" Another sob threatened to choke off her words. "I… I can't control it, Squall. I can't tell when it's going to happen, or what it's going to do. I'm so scared…" This time the lump in Rinoa's throat did stop her from saying any more.

Squall held her tight as a renewed round of sobs shuddered through Rinoa. He could think of nothing else to say or do.

Eventually, Rinoa calmed. Embarrassed, she pulled her head back, shaking her hair down to hide her face. She choked out a small laugh as she peeled Squall's pendant of Griever off of her forehead. "I'm sorry, I ruined the evening and messed up your shirt."

Squall brushed her hair from in font of her face with a finger. He looked into her tear-reddened eyes. "Rinoa, I'm here…" …not as your employee, or mercenary, but as your compatriot, your friend, your knight, and maybe… something more. "…you can tell me anything." Squall wasn't sure if what had said made sense, but Rinoa seemed to know what he was thinking.

She hugged Squall. "I know…" She whispered as he hugged back, "…thank you."

"Are you feeling better?" Squall wanted to know.

"If you mean 'am I done bawling?' Yes, I think so." Rinoa answered.

"That's not what I meant." Squall regarded her seriously. "Rinoa, please, if you need to talk…" Boy, never thought I'd be saying THAT…

Rinoa shot him a wane smile. "Never thought I'd hear you say THAT." Then a bit of the old Rinoa returned. "Yes, I sure do, and you're going to get to listen to me, aren't you happy?"

Squall was beginning to realize that perhaps the 'old' Rinoa might be just as much of a façade as the 'real' Squall was.

Rinoa lead Squall over to the smooth broken bowl of a dry fountain in the middle of the square. She hopped up onto the hard curved surface, followed by Squall. Shortly thereafter they both sat reclining on the outer rim's slope.

"Sometimes I wonder how you do it." Rinoa hugged her knees to her chest.

Squall waited for her to finish.

"How you all stay so calm. I really meant that, earlier, about how nothing seems to get to you…" Rinoa trailed off.

So did I.

"I mean, what's that like?" Rinoa tilted her head to the side. "Oh, here comes that sorceress who wants to destroy everybody, again, guess I'd better kill her." Rinoa looked up at the stars. "Sometimes I wish I could be like that."

It's not as easy as it seems. Squall sighed.

"What?"

"It's not as simple as we make it seem." He looked over at her. "It… it does get to us… eventually."

"No it doesn't." Rinoa shook her head. "I've never seen you unsure—I mean, I've never seen you unsure… of yourself—not once. You, Selphie, Irvine, Quistis, Zell—well, maybe not Zell—and even… even Seifer. You're always ready to take on anything." She lowered her head. "It just seems like I'm… I'm never that way."

It's just the impression we cultivate. What sort of SeeDs would we be if we were always acting as frightened as we feel.

"Has there ever been a time when you didn't feel so sure?"

Has there ever!

Rinoa looked over at Squall. "I'm sorry, I don't want to dredge up any bad memories, I just want you to understand how I'm feeling."

I know how you feel, Rinoa, I know how you feel every night I'm alone with my memories… no… even every time we're apart. Squall's hand had unconsciously drifted to his forehead again.

"Squall?" Rinoa leaned over.

"Yes?"

"Please… tell me what you're thinking just now." She said.

"I can't." Squall held back a shrug. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, please." Rinoa looked into his eyes beseechingly. "Don't hide whatever it is from me this time."

Squall's resolve wavered. "I'm afraid… I can't." He said, hoping she would take the words the wrong way.

She did not. "What are you afraid of? Don't worry. I'm right here, I'll protect you." Rinoa patted his hand.

Squall started to snort, then thought twice. She's a sorceress now, she probably could… and she is right here beside me…whether or not I tell her, it will still haunt me again tonight.

Seeing she was winning him over, Rinoa made a final strategic play. "Please?" She said quietly, with just the slightest look of dejection.

It worked, Squall finally resolved to tell her. Involuntarily he reached for her hand. She clasped his. Squall drew in a deep breath. "Do you remember that night on the observation deck when you asked me what was bothering me?"

Rinoa nodded. "Yes, and you told me a little bit about what happened to you during the time compression." She cocked her head to the side. "Did something happen to you then?"

Squall closed his eyes. "Nothing happened to me then… but I saw… you."

"Well that's certainly enough to make anyone lose their cool." Rinoa tried to lighten Squall's mood just a bit.

But Squall barely heard her, he was reliving the nightmare over again, for the thousandth time. "You… you were standing in the field—our field… I called to you, and you turned, but… I-I couldn't see your face."

Rinoa squeezed Squall's hand reassuringly. His grip was that of a drowning man's on a life preserver. His skin had gone cold and clammy, his breath came in quick, sharp gasps.

"I could see everyone, but you… and then…" Squall's eyes snapped open. For a moment they seemed unfocused, lost, terrified, then he recognized Rinoa and the fear subsided just a hair. "I saw… saw you… I saw you d—" But Squall could not force himself to say it, a great lump in his throat choked off his words.

"Die?" Rinoa asked. She had never seen Squall so perturbed.

Squall nodded, miserable, angry, embarrassed, frightened, lost, all at once, holding onto his last shred of composure by a fingernail.

Rinoa saved him. "Oh Squall…" she said and hugged him, letting him escape. He held on so tightly she could barely breathe, blowing out an explosive breath that sounded almost like a sob. "…is that why you've been coming into my room at night?" She felt his head shake as he nodded—not trusting himself to speak.

She held on to Squall as she felt the tension in his body slowly slacken as he fought back his emotions yet again.

Eventually, Squall unclenched his jaw and took a breath. "So now, I've cried on your shoulder."

Rinoa smiled at him. "Ok, we're even. I guess we make a pretty pathetic pair." She sighed happily. "I can't believe it."

"What?" Squall looked at her quizzically.

"Well… I guess I get off easier, since you already said it." She paused. But it wasn't any easier—not really. "I had nightmares too…"

Showing surprising initiative—he thought, Squall intertwined his arm with Rinoa's for support.

"Sometimes, in the dark, I see that night in Deling City all over again…" Rinoa shuddered.

"The monsters?"

Rinoa shook her head. "No… you… and the sorceress… and the ice." Her mind wanted to show that horrible, horrible movie again, but it could not, he was right here, beside her, and now he was drawing her close.

"I'm right here, beside you." He whispered into her ear.

"I know." Her throat wanted to seize up again, but she wouldn't allow it. "I was so relieved, every night you came in and watched me when you thought I was sleeping." She sighed. "And I was so disappointed every night I thought I heard you in the hall, but no one came. I guess it wasn't you."

"It was." Squall said. A long silence ensued.

Tired, drained, Rinoa lay back, then nestled up against Squall's side. "I want to stay like this, forever. It's safe here."

We really should be getting back. But it wouldn't hurt to stay a few more minutes, Squall reasoned. "I guess we're both just crazy then, huh?" Squall craned his neck to look over at Rinoa, but she was already asleep, head pillowed on Squall's arm. With his right hand, he carefully stroked a wisp of hair off of her face, letting his fingers trail down her warm cheek. She sighed and smiled at his touch, and tried to burrow further into his side. Squall let his head fall back on the smooth surface of the fountain's bowl. He sighed as he looked up at the gibbous moon floating through a thin veil of clouds overhead. Yes, they could stay here just a while longer.

A fat black crow fluttered to a halt atop the highest fountain pipe. Puffing itself up in the late-morning sunlight, it cawed raucously at the two figures below.

Squall awoke with a start, his right hand already on the handle of his gunblade. Blinking, he squinted into the sunlight.

Beside him, Rinoa yawned and stretched. "Wow, it looks pretty late."

"Hmm." By all rights, Squall should've been stiffer than a rusted tin man after spending the night on the bottom of the hard, concrete fountain. But then again, by all rights, he should've spent most the night wide-awake and worrying as he usually did.

Rinoa looked over at him, and read his mind. "No nightmares either?" She smiled.

Squall thought back to the events of the night before and felt like hiding under a rock. Mornings gave you a unique perspective on the world.

"I guess we ought to head back." Rinoa said.

"No hurry." Squall shrugged.

Rinoa's eyes widened in surprise.

"I doubt the rest of the team is in much better shape than we are."

The rest of the team was, indeed, in worse shape than Squall and Rinoa as they found out, after a quick breakfast at a—miraculously—still open café. The rings under Zell's eyes were large enough to drive a truck through, and both Irvine and Selphie seemed to have slept—very briefly—in full combat gear. Squall felt just the slightest tinge of poetically justified satisfaction.

As disheveled as the SeeDs looked, however, they were all awake when Squall and Rinoa returned together.

"Hoo-doggie! Look's like me an' Selphie weren't the only ones who got a little action last night." Irvine observed.

As Rinoa and Squall blushed simultaneously, Selphie whirled and slapped Irvine—none too gently—across the face. "We did no such thing!" She shouted in indignation.

Irvine rubbed his jaw. "Aww, darlin', I was talking about dancing, you know that!"

"No you weren't, you pig!" Selphie kicked at Irvine who did his best to dance back out of range.

"Uh, Squall, Ferrin sent a messenger earlier saying she wanted to meet us all at noon at the station." Zell informed him.

Glancing at his wrist chronometer, Squall shrugged. "We'd better get going then."

About a half-hour later, the group arrived at the remains of Timber's railroad depot. The detritus from the previous night's celebration mingled with the debris from the bombing raids making Squall wonder how so many people had ever been able to dance and celebrate in the cluttered space between the walls.

Ferrin was waiting for them along with some familiar faces from the rebel headquarters. She waved at the SeeDs and sorceress to join the group gathered in front of Timber's one remaining locomotive. As they did so, Zone and Watts wove their way over to meet Rinoa.

"Ok, I think that's everyone." Ferrin addressed the gathered fighters. "I've called you all here to give you an update on what's going on with regard to the negotiations with Galbadia." She surveyed the group. "I expect you all to disseminate this information among your respective teams after we're done here." Receiving nods, she smiled and continued. "As most of you already know, we're holding the Galbadian paratroopers we captured prisoner in one of the underground bomb shelters." Ferrin grimaced. "We never really planned on taking large numbers of prisoners, so I want to get rid of them as badly as I imagine you all do. However, seeing as they represent pretty much our only leverage at the negotiation table, I'm afraid we're going to have to hold on to them at least until the summit in Dollett." No one looked happy at that prospect, but neither did anyone speak out against it.

Ferrin continued. "Speaking of the negotiations, they're going to be held in five days, so we need to get moving on that, Ray, Angelica, I'll need to speak to you after the meeting about our conditions and terms. I'll be attending the negotiations in person." This news brought a murmur of unrest from many of those gathered. Ferrin raised her hands. "I know, I don't trust the Galbadians either, but representatives from Balamb Garden and Esthar will also be there, and I'll be taking along some guards, you can be sure of that, so I doubt the Galbadians will try anything funny, besides, we still have their paratroopers." Most people quieted at these assurances.

"Now, there's something I want you all to understand." She paused until those gathered were absolutely silent. "The Galbadians had us on the ropes there for a while. Despite all our preparations, they managed to surprise us and would undoubtedly have defeated us… were it not for this brave young lady." Ferrin indicated a surprised Rinoa with one hand.

"Rinoa, Timber owes you its freedom, and everyone here owes you his or her personal gratitude." She paused for a moment, and from the rear of the crowd, a steady wave of applause swept forward. Rinoa ducked her head with embarrassment, but she was unable to hide the proud little smile from Squall.

Ferrin allowed the applause to continue for another moment before raising her hands again for silence. "You are one of us so you realize that we, the citizens of Timber, never forget a debt. Remember us, if you are ever in need."

After a few more notes, the meeting wrapped up with everyone dispersing into the city to inform their respective groups of what had transpired. After a quick, private conversation with Ferrin, Rinoa returned to the group of SeeDs. "I guess general Caraway knows I'm here." Rinoa frowned. "That man is now the acting president of Galbadia, and he sent a personal request that I attend the negotiations in Dollett." She sighed.

"Do you want to go?" Selphie asked.

Rinoa blew a strand of hair from her face. "I supposed I'd better. Even if he won't listen to me, I might be able to indirectly help Ferrin negotiate more favorable terms for Timber." She turned to Squall. "I guess your mission is over now, huh?"

Squall's brow furrowed. "Maybe. The wording on the contract was pretty vague." He continued to look displeased. "I don't think I can put off reporting back any longer."

"Okay." Rinoa's expression was carefully neutral.

Squall shrugged, and extended his open hand toward Zell.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Zell sheepishly pulled out the communications device and placed it in Squall's hand.

Squall punched in the code to access the Garden's communications center.

"Balamb switchboard here." Said the device.

"This is the Timber Squad, reporting in." Squall spoke into the transmitter.

"Timber Squad? Hold on, the headmaster wanted this call switched directly to him." There was a popping noise, then the headmaster's voice issued from the speaker. "Headmaster Kramer here."

"Sir, this is Squall Leonhart, currently on assignment in Timber with a situational update." Squall was acutely conscious of the other three SeeDs listening in on the conversation.

"Squall! Good to hear from you! How are things in Timber these days?"

After filling the headmaster in on the developments in Timber, Squall requested further orders, dreading the response. However, instead of ordering them back to the garden, Cid chose instead to request the SeeDs meet him for the peace negotiations in Dollett. The headmaster, directly escorted by Quistis Trepe, and indirectly by two other SeeD squads were to meet with the Timber squad in Dollett upon the commencement of the peace talks. The headmaster seemed no more trusting of Galbadia than Ferrin. Xu was apparently remaining behind to run the garden in the headmaster's absence. Squall, Zell, Selphie, and Irvine were left to find their own way to Dollett in the four days remaining before the beginning of the negotiations.

Upon consulting Ferrin, the four SeeDs agreed to accompany her, her guards, and Rinoa on a moderately sized cabin cruiser that would make the run up the coast to Dollett within the necessary time frame.

The boat was scheduled to leave early the next morning, leaving the group of friends the rest of the afternoon to wander about the newly liberated town of Timber.

As more and more of the previous night's revelers recovered, the city of Timber was beginning to come to life. By mid-afternoon, everywhere one looked, signs of reconstruction appeared. The independent citizens set about rebuilding their city with a will and even Rinoa was surprised by how eager everyone seemed to be to put Timber back together again.

Squall stood in the bow of the fishing-trawler-turned-emissary-vessel as it motored out from between the high cliffs that protected the small harbor on Timber's eastern coast. The rusty watercraft had seen better days. Its deck was stained from thousands of catches, rusty trails streaked from every scupper, pipe, joint, and line fitting. On the stern of the vessel, peeling letters proclaimed her the 'Merry Kay', though below the lettering could be seen a shadow of another name from an earlier time. Cracked rubber tires and broken plastic bumpers lay across her decking at the ends of their frayed ropes, ready to be tossed over the side to protect the Merry Kay's upper hull from scraping up against the docks. Under Squall's feet, the scuffed wooden boards squelched occasionally as he shifted his weight onto a bit of rotten decking. Brass davits had long since turned the wood upon which they were bolted green, and the distinctive odor that fishing trawlers have pervaded the still morning air.

Squall shrugged, he hadn't expected any different. Timber's government was newer than the first star of evening. It would be a long time—if ever—before the government assumed all the trappings of a firmly implanted institution.

Case in point, the four SeeDs, sorceress, and Timber delegation had arrived in the tiny fishing village of Coronet Cliffs aboard three captured Galbadian APCs. Some of the villagers, not yet aware of the Galbadian defeat in Timber City, had began pelting the military vehicles with rocks, rotten produce, and other items as they had rolled into town. Only after Ferrin had popped out of the lead APC and shouted of the rebel victory had the villagers' angry shouts turned to cheers. Before boarding the Merry Kay, the delegation had received the town's mayor's deepest apologies—you see news and gossip doesn't travel so fast here… et-cetera, et-cetera.

After a few somewhat sentimental goodbyes between the former members of the Forest Owls—Zone and Watts having elected to be part of the group's escort to Coronet Cliffs, the group had departed, a flock of locals, who had gathered about the docks to get a glimpse of the famous Rebel leader and her escort of nearly legendary warriors, saw them off. Zone and Watts had remained behind to assist with the rebuilding of Timber.

Thinking about all this—Squall found—was far preferable to facing the issues that had kept him awake and brooding long after the others had turned in the night before. I can't believe I told her. I can't believe I acted like that. Squall had been able to keep control for so long… why was his composure beginning to crack now? But you know the reason, don't you? Had it been Zell, Irvine, Selphie, Quistis, Cid, even Edea…none of them can pierce my shell. Squall banged a fist down on the railing. You're too close, Squall. You've got to run. You have to get away now. Otherwise…

But on a ship, there are very few places to run. This point was brought home to Squall as Rinoa made her way up from belowdecks to stand beside him.

"Um… Squall?" Rinoa bit her upper lip. "Uh, Ferrin… well, she was kind of embarrassed to ask this, so she sent me instead."

Relieved beyond words that Rinoa had not come to talk about… that… Squall turned. "Ask what?"

Rinoa, too, seemed a bit embarrassed by the request. "Uh, well, you've probably noticed that we aren't exactly aboard the Q.E. 2 or anything…" She paused, but realized that she was not going to get any help from Squall. "Anyway, uh, we thought it might be a good Idea—that is, it might help the negotiations out if…"

"…If we didn't arrive aboard something that looked like a tramp steamer?" Squall finally finished for her.

Rinoa nodded.

Sighing, Squall rolled his eyes. "Alright, what does she want us to do?"

Rinoa clapped her hands. "Yes! I knew you'd be willing to help. Come on, let's go get the stuff."

'The stuff' turned out to be mops, buckets, paint, brushes, scrapers, sandpaper, hammers, nails, coils of rope, and a caustic cleaning agent that seemed more likely to take off your hand rather than grease and dirt. Irvine and Zell were about as happy about their new status as 'swabs' as was Squall, but Selphie and Rinoa somehow managed to keep their good spirits.

"Hey, Rinoa." Zell began, with a bit of a whine from where he hung, high on the ship's single derrick, chipping away at decades-old rust with a scraper. "Can't you just wave your arms and—you know—poof! Turn this ship into a nice new yacht or something?

Irvine nodded greenly, from his the spot where he hung over the ship's railing, polishing away—and occasionally making as if to send his lunch the way of his breakfast—over the side. "Yeah, darlin'? Or at least into something that doesn't buck around quite so much?"

Rinoa paused, sander tapping against a bulkhead thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose I could try… but then again, I might just make the hull evaporate or something."

Irvine turned an even paler shade of green. "Well, in that case, maybe we should wait to try that one until we get to Dollett, ok?"

It was late afternoon of their third day at sea. The 'Ambassador I'—as the fresh paint on the stern of the ship proclaimed—had been steaming up Timber's coastline, remaining within sight of land at all times in case of heavy weather. With only one day remaining before the start of negotiations, the ship was beginning to look at least slightly presentable. Everyone—even Ferrin—had helped with the scrubbing down of the aging trawler, sometimes discussing negotiation strategy with her cohorts while polishing brass or replacing rigging.

Squall looked down to where the prow of the ship sliced through the orange, late afternoon sea. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Rinoa drew up beside Squall.

Steeling himself, Squall pulled away from her. Easy now, just do what you have to do. He could barely force himself to turn to witness Rinoa's hurt expression.

"Squall, what's wrong?"

God, this is hard. I never should have let things go this far. "Nothing. Everything's fine." He said, trying his damnedest to inject a harsh edge into his voice.

"Huh?" The confusion on Rinoa's face was heartbreaking.

"…" Squall turned away.

She'll get the idea.

Rinoa did. That wall. There it is again, what is he doing? "Jeeze, Squall, what are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Squall, don't push me away." Rinoa tried again to put a hand on his shoulder.

Squall stood on his emotions with both feet, grinding them like polish into the deck with the heel of his boots. He forced himself to pull away again. "Leave me alone."

The silence that fell between them was iron-clad.

Finally, Rinoa spoke. Harshly. "Ok, I get the hint, you won't have to sulk much longer." She blew out an explosive breath in anger. "God! What is it with you? What does it take to get through to you?!"

Squall gritted his teeth and did his best to stare straight out to sea at nothing.

"Or is that it? Is that what finally did it?" Rinoa was angry, but she didn't shout, she didn't scream or cry. Maybe it would have been better if she had, Squall thought. "Did I get too close, Squall? Did you maybe, just maybe, start to feel something?"

Under his gloves, Squall's knuckles whitened, as his grip on the railing tightened.

"That's it, isn't it?" Rinoa continued. "Something finally got through that damned wall you've built around yourself." She stamped her foot. "Did it hurt?"

Yes, it does, but not as much as it would have later…

"Squall, I used to think you were the bravest person who ever lived..." The slightest quaver began to creep in with the anger. "…but I was wrong." she gasped for a breath. "Because you're not even alive." With that, Rinoa whirled and ran from him.

Slowly, slowly, Squall's jaw unlocked, his muscles relaxed. The hole, the same hole that had been ripped in him when Ellone left, was back. But he knew, if he hadn't done what he had done, it would have been much, much larger later. This is it. This is what you wanted, isn't it? Well, you got it. "Congratulations, you son of a bitch." Squall whispered, filled with self-loathing.

A ship is a very small world. Belowdecks is an even smaller one. Squall spent the night on a pile of ropes behind the pilothouse, alone with the stars, and the nightmare when it returned.

The next morning, Squall awakened to the crying of seagulls. As he was facing the rear of the ship, he could see the long trail of the ship's wake stretching off toward the lightening horizon. To his right, the sun was beginning to peer above the cliffs of the far-off coastline of what he now assumed was Dollett's territory. Behind him, Squall hear footsteps on the decking.

Facing out to sea, Zell yawned gapingly and stretched. He turned, and started at the sight of Squall. "Woa, man, didn't see you there." His brow furrowed. "Have you been out here all night?"

Squall remained silent.

Zell failed to pick up on the nonverbal cues and continued, "Hey man, I don't mean to pry or anything, but what's up with you and Rinoa? I mean, you guys are like, so tight all through everything that's happened since Ultimecia, and now, Rinoa comes in and cries herself to sleep last night and you're out here sleeping on deck."

Squall sighed. "Did Selphie and Irvine send you out here?"

Zell looked a bit astounded. "Woa, how'd you know?"

Squall put a hand to his forehead.

"Hey, Squall, you know, we're all just worried about you two. You know, if you've had a falling out or something, we just wanna help you two get over it, you know?" Zell cocked his head to the side.

Squall frowned. "Zell."

"Yeah?"

"Would you give Selphie and Irvine a message for me?" Squall asked.

"Sure thing!" Zell leaned forward. "What is it?"

"…."

"Huh?" Zell didn't get it.

Squall closed his eyes. "Tell them, I don't want any help." This is hard enough without everyone sticking their nose in.

"Uh, ok." Zell looked nonplussed, but this time he did take the hint, and left.

Squall folded his arms, and returned to his brooding.

A few moments later, Squall heard another set of footsteps on the ladder leading up to the deck. He steeled himself You can even recognize her by the sound of her footfalls. Squall, why did you ever let this happen?

Rinoa reached the deck, and walked right on past Squall. She took up a position leaning slightly against the rails at the stern of the trawler.

After a few moments, Squall rose to his feet. This wasn't going to be easy. Stepping forward, he took up a cautious position at the rail, a few feet from Rinoa, studiously avoiding looking at her face. He stood like this for several minutes, unsure of how to begin. Eventually, he made a stab at it. "Rinoa, I… about last night…"

Rinoa mumbled something.

"I'm sorry? I didn't hear that?" Squall said cautiously.

"I said, it's ok." Rinoa also carefully kept her gaze leveled on the far-off horizon. "I've been thinking about what I said, and I… I need to ask you something, Squall."

Squall looked down at the bubbling wake. "Go ahead."

"Squall, I—I can't do this alone." She began.

"You have a knight…" Squall interjected.

Rinoa shook her head, still keeping her eyes away from Squall. "No… no, that's not what I meant, that's not what I need." She drew in a breath. "I know there's something in your past that's got its hooks into you, I know it's hard for you to get close to anyone." She paused, and this time she did turn to face Squall. Her eyes were red with unhappiness. "But, right now, I need someone who can be that way. I need it so badly I can taste it, Squall." She blinked away something in her eye. "I know you can be my knight, I know you can be my protector, my mercenary. I know you can keep me safe from harm…"

Can I? Can I really?

The quaver was back in Rinoa's voice. "But I need someone I can confide in, like that night in Timber. I need a shoulder to cry on, someone to share what I'm feeling with, but I don't want a wall, I want someone who will share back." Her eyes pleaded with Squall. "Can… can you do that for me, Squall?"

I want to, God, I want to so badly it hurts.

Squall's head dropped. "I'm sorry." He whispered. He closed his eyes, he didn't want to look, didn't want to see his words hit Rinoa like a physical blow, didn't want to see the terrible expression of hurt and sadness in her eyes. But he could feel it, even without seeing. Squall heard her gasp, heard her wrap a hand around the railing to steady herself, he could feel her… essence… recoil from him, from his words. "Rinoa, I…"

"No." Rinoa gasped, raising a hand, as if to fend off a physical attack. "No, Squall, just… don't—don't say any more." She backed away from him. "Just go—just leave me alone!"

Squall fled.

They made port in Dollett shortly after noon. From the water, the city looked much the same as it had the last time Squall saw it—except for the droves of people flocking amongst the city's docks. As the Ambassador I, motored between the chipped and cracked concrete breakwaters that protected the town's harbor, Squall could make out three of Balamb Garden's landing craft, tied up alongside one of the wide stone jetties. The flash of photographic strobes sparkled amongst the mob milling about near where the SeeD vessels were moored. Squall grimaced Reporters… He sighed. Irvine, who had come up behind him, remarked, "Well, ya can't 'spect to avoid the press forever after doing what we've done, eh?"

Squall nodded as Selphie—who had followed Irvine up from below decks hopped up and down excitedly. "Oh boy! Are we gonna be on TEE-VEE?!"

"Yup, darlin', and radio, and magazines, and newspapers everywhere, most likely. If they don't want to talk to us about Ultimecia, then they'll probably want to talk to us about Timber." Irvine turned to her.

"Say, Squall." Zell had also joined the group observing the activity on the docks. "What are our orders concerning talking to the press and all that?"

"We're to keep our mouths shut." Squall replied. "No statements, no stories, I don't even want anyone to nod, understand? "We're here to patrol the peace talks and make sure Galbadia doesn't try anything sneaky, not to make statements of any kind that could be mistaken as the policies of Balamb Garden or SeeD."

"Aww…" Selphie and Zell both looked dejected at that.

Squall shrugged. They'll deal with it. "Alright, everyone, check your junctions and GF's. I know we're in dress uniform, but we need to be ready for anything." Regarding his squad, he said, "Is everyone ready to go ashore?" Receiving nods all around, Squall barked, "SeeDs, take your positions!"

With that, the group moved quickly to the port side of the Ambassador I, where the crew/negotiations team were tossing the ship's bumpers over the side in preparation for mooring. With Squall standing at the forward right, Zell at forward left, Selphie at rear right, and Irvine at rear left, the four SeeDs stood stiffly, eyeing the crowded docks as mooring lines snaked across the narrowing gap between the ship and the jetty. Hands on weapons, the SeeDs were the first to cross the gangplank extended from the Trawler to the dock, pushing the onlookers back.

Reporters who had shoved themselves to the forefront of the gathered crowd tried to advance, holding microphones before them as if they were offensive weapons. Squall grimaced, they certainly were offensive. As flashbulbs popped and cameras rolled, Selphie couldn't help mugging a bit. Zell, though he was busily shoving the eager journalists backward, was wearing a goofy star struck grin. Had he had a free hand, Squall would have placed it over his face.

"Squall! Squall Leonhart! How did it feel to travel into the future?"

"Mr. Kinneas, is it true that you and Ms. Tilmitt are lovers?"

Selphie shot Irvine a look of pure venom. Irvine held his hands up to emphasize his innocence.

"Zell Dincht! Were you really the one who dealt Ultimecia the killing blow?"

Zell grinned, but to Squall's relief, the entire squad remained silent as per their orders. Realizing they were not going to get any answers from the stalwart SeeDs, the reporters quieted and allowed themselves to be herded away from the gangway. After Squall judged the crowd to be contained and under control, he nodded to Ado Silever—one of the Timber negotiators—standing by the hatchway to the Ambassador I's lower decks.

Ado leaned over and said something to persons unseen below decks.

Squall's breath caught in his throat as Ferrin emerged, followed by Is that really her? the sorceress, Rinoa Heartilly. Squall looked a second time, Rinoa seemed not to walk, but rather float up the steps from the Ship's lower decks. For a moment, Squall wondered whether she had cast Float on herself before emerging. Behind him, the mob of journalists and gawkers fell into absolute silence, so commanding of their attention was the presence of the sorceress.

Beside Rinoa, Ferrin should have cut a stately figure herself, her bearing was that of royalty deigning to speak to lowly peasants, but there was no question that Rinoa was the one everyone's eyes were fixated on.

Squall blinked, then again. He shook his head slightly, and suddenly he saw what was happening. He saw the far-away look in Rinoa's eyes, and the way she seemed to drift down the gangplank, as if unaware of the existence of such a thing as 'ground'. Squall realized that the sorceress was—consciously or unconsciously—manifesting her powers in a manner that captivated all those present. It was indeed, impressive, and Squall had to concentrate to keep from falling into the same open-mouthed, dumbfoundedness all others present were currently expressing.

As Rinoa and Ferrin made their way up the docks to a waiting limousine, not a single camera flashed, not a single question was shouted. As she passed, a spark of recognition crept into Rinoa's eyes, and she nodded with a tiny smile to Zell, Selphie, and Irvine—seeming to return to earth momentarily. Then her eyes fell upon Squall, and Rinoa was gone again, she glided by him without the slightest gesture of acknowledgement. What I deserve, what I wanted. But that didn't make it any less painful.

As the door to Ferrin and Rinoa's limousine slammed shut, the spell was broken, and a thousand voices shouted for attention at once.

"Was that the sorceress, Rinoa!?"

"Is it true she has junctioned the power of two other sorceresses?"

"Will the sorceress be taking over the negotiations for Timber?"

Doing their best to hold the perimeter as they fell back toward a second waiting limousine, the four SeeDs exchanged amazed glances. Rinoa had changed!

As the two vehicles sped away from the docks—headed toward the center of Dollett—Selphie exclaimed. "Wow! This is great, our own private limousine! Is this real leather?!" She bounced on soft cushion.

"That's right, complements of Galbadia and President Pro Tem Caraway." The driver said over his shoulder. "Woa!"

Ahead of them, the lead limousine's brake lights flashed bright red. The second car slid to a halt inches from its rear bumper. From the lead car, Ferrin emerged—followed by Rinoa. The SeeDs were already out of their transport, and moving forward, preparing to draw their weapons and protect the leaders. Behind them, the remainder of the negotiation team also alighted from their vehicle.

"Rather than accept handouts from the Galbadian government, I believe we shall walk, thank you very much!" Ferrin could be heard angrily chastising the driver of the lead car. The driver threw up his hands, apparently saying something in return, then the vehicle sped off, followed in short order by the remaining two cars.

"Aw, man!" Zell said.

Squall shrugged. "It's her business." He motioned the SeeDs into a diamond defensive escort, and the group continued into town on foot.

As the group made their way up the wide cobbled streets of Dollett, they drew more than a few wondering glances, and even more incredulous stares. Squall knew they must have looked fairly ridiculous as they passed by the endless rows of street side cafés, shops, and dozens of vendors all pausing from hawking their wares to stare at the newcomers for a moment. He shrugged. If this was how Ferrin wanted to walk to the conference center, well, then she and her escort would walk to the conference center.

Selphie was doing her best to look like a staid SeeD member under the scrutiny of what seemed like every last man, woman, and child in Dollett. As the group continued on, she noticed that people's stares were no longer falling on the group of negotiators and their escorts, but rather were now directed down towards the ocean. Some were pointing and whispering to one another. Selphie turned. "WOW! Look at that!"

Everyone followed her pointing finger. Far out to sea—near the horizon, a large, low, conical white cloud was racing toward the town. At the tip of the cone formed by the condensed moisture, a red speck appeared. "Look, look you guys! It's the Ragnarok!" Selphie hopped up and down with excitement.

It was indeed the large space plane that Esthar had constructed to carry the sealed Sorceress Adel into orbit near the now-destroyed lunar base. The Ragnarok was streaking in low over the ocean at well over the speed of sound, kicking up a great plume of spray with its wake turbulence. As it neared the shore, the ship slowed, and the mach cone cloud disappeared. Drop tanks falling from underwing hardpoints, a full squadron of Esthar's long-range fighter/bombers peeled away from their formation around the spacecraft and, climbing to altitude, raced toward Dollett on full afterburner. As they passed by overhead, a cacophony of sonic booms rattled windows all over the city. The aircraft split into three finger-four formations and slowed to a subsonic cruise. They circled the city like giant hawks, the sun flashing off their metallic wings.

The airspace around Dollett apparently secure, the Ragnarok approached the city low and slow. Windows were rattled, and guts were shaken again as the Ragnarok cruised overhead, its giant engines emitting a low-frequency roar as they idled.

As the spacecraft proceeded east, gradually sinking below a row of studio apartments that blocked the group's view of the great ship's landing site, Selphie scuffed a boot on the cobblestones. "We shoulda kept it."

Overhearing this, Irvine shrugged. "Maybe, but Esthar did pay the garden a pretty nice lump o' cash for its recovery."

"Yeah, but it was soooo much fun to fly." Selphie pouted.

Eventually, the group reached the famous Extrêmement Coûteux Hotel near downtown Dollett, where the negotiations were to take place. Already parked out front were half a dozen vehicles sporting the official crest of Esthar's government, along with four Galbadian limousines that—Squall imagined—had carried the headmaster and his entourage up from the docks. He frowned at the number and size of the Esthar transports. Either the Ragnarok was much larger than he remembered, or the Estharians had made some modifications in order to fit so many vehicles into the spacecraft's hold. In any case, the delegation from Timber's repainted fishing trawler and five-mercenary escort paled in comparison to the amount of hardware that the Estharians had brought with them.

Two nervous-looking—or so their posture suggested—Esthar guards stood by the lead vehicle while someone rummaged around in the boot. Squall had a sneaking suspicion that—

"Mr. President. Really, can't we rejoin the rest of your escort? I'm sure the bellhops can…" The guard trailed off as a hand from the man waved him off.

"I'm fine, I just want to get this last thing. You can go on in if you want." Even as the man spoke, the posture of the guard indicated that this was not an option.

Squall nodded. He had been right, it was Laguna Loire. Apparently, even after several dozen odd years as a ruler, the former soldier and journalist still wasn't used to all the trappings of state—or even of high society. Squall was not surprised.

Laguna finally emerged from behind the front of the vehicle, a nondescript bag clutched in one hand. His eyes lit up as they fell upon the approaching party. Ignoring a shout of protest from his guards, he ran forward to meet the delegation from Timber. "Squall! Hey, good to see ya pal!" He came up short before Squall and stuck out a hand.

Squall regarded him coldly. "President Loire."

A shadow of something crossed Laguna's face, then it was gone. "Yeah… right." As his guards ran up, Laguna turned to the rest of the group. "Selphie, Irvine, Zell. Good to see all you guys again."

The four SeeDs nodded, shook hands, and smiled as Laguna made rounds among the group.

Finally, the head of state of Esthar made his way around the perimeter of acquaintances and moved toward the negotiators. "Uh… Rinoa, right?" Said the president—looking quite unpresidential as usual.

Rinoa smiled, and in a gesture from nearly forgotten days in Deling, curtsied slightly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, President Loire."

Laguna quickly withdrew his hand and, in a gesture from all-to-well remembered days in Esthar, bowed graciously—if awkwardly—from the waist, sweeping one arm out from his side. As he rose, he turned to Ferrin. "I've heard much about you, Ms Sosare." Laguna bowed again before the revolutionary leader.

Ferrin favored him with a smile. "Well, I hope the better part of it was good things. Please, call me Ferrin." She stuck out a hand for a relieved Laguna to shake.

After making his way around the remaining negotiators from Timber—his escorts hovering nervously as he made his way around the group—Laguna ushered the group through the tall crystal paneled, gold gilded main doors of the Extrêmement Coûteux . An enormous Persian carpet mural laid over polished marble tile silenced the group's footfalls. A vaulted ceiling covered with fantastic artistry and broken by great oval stained-glass windows soared sixty feet over their heads. Opal pillars inlaid with spider webs of silver and gold supported a balcony that ran the length of the rear wall of the cavernous entryway, the contents of which was hidden by a plethora of indoor flora. Three grand pianos arranged in a circle to the left of the center of the great hall were quietly caressed by tuxedoed pianists, their harmony intermingling with the chiming of falling water from a dozen marble fountains scattered amongst the rich furniture.

Rinoa, Selphie, and Zell gasped. Squall and Irvine raised an eyebrow. Ferrin and Laguna smiled. The rest of the party was stunned into silence by the splendor of the Extrêmement Coûteux.

Eventually, the group managed to overcome their initial astonishment, and were each escorted by an individual hotel staff member to their respective rooms. An entire floor had been reserved for the Timber delegation, all compliments of the Galbadian Government. Ferrin frowned at this, but remained silent after receiving pleading glances from every member of the Timber group except Irvine and Squall. Laguna and his guards left the group and headed for the wing of suites that had been reserved for the Esthar representatives.

After the group reached their floor, Squall nodded with approval as the their hotel escort informed them that the SeeDs would be assigned the rooms nearest the elevators. The unspoken reason being, of course, that any potential assassin would have to pass by the mercenaries before being able to reach any of the Timber delegates. Selphie's suite happened to be first, and Squall waved her permission to leave the group.

As the door to the hall slowly swung shut, the sound of Selphie's happy screams drifted into the hall. "WAIII!! LOOK AT THIS PLACE!!"

Irvine grinned, and Squall resisted an urge to place a hand over his face.

Zell's room was next, and his screams were no less reserved. This time Squall allowed himself the gesture.

After Irvine had entered his own lodging, Squall waved off his own escort, who simply nodded and gave him the key, then disappeared after informing Squall that his bags would be brought up from their vessel in short order. As each delegate was shown their room, Squall entered first and made a precursory security check of the suite. The hotel staff looked nonplussed at this—as did the rest of the Timber delegation at being made to wait in the hall until Squall finished his check of each room. He shrugged. Tough. My people know what they're doing, but I want to personally make sure that nothing goes wrong here.

Rinoa's suite was last. Naturally. As he finished his check, Squall paused for a moment at the door. He looked over his shoulder at Rinoa, but her back was turned to him, he had the feeling she had been that way ever since the previous night. He si—No. I'm not going to sigh, I'm just not going to think about it. He forced himself to step out into the hall without a word.

Squall made his way down the hall. Better start the rotating shifts. Squall stopped before Selphie's door and knocked twice. The door opened just far enough for Selphie to stick her head out. Looking slightly guilty, she spoke. "Hiya Squall, need something?"

Squall rolled his eyes. "Selphie, would you tell Irvine, we're starting the shift schedule, he's on watch. If anyone wants to leave, have him come and get me, I'm on escort."

Selphie looked scandalized. "What makes you think he's—"

"Sure thing, Boss." Irvine's voice floated out from the depths of the suite.

Selphie blushed.

"Thanks." Squall said, and returned to his room.

Upon entering his room, Squall found his equipment already stowed neatly against a large cherry dresser. The suite was impressive, he had to admit as he unpacked his few personal items. There were four separate rooms: a bedroom containing a giant four-poster bed, a wealth of dressers and nightstands, an enormous walk-in closet, and thousands of gil worth in decorations; an entryway/living space with deep plush carpeting on three different levels and heavily upholstered furniture everywhere; a master bath with a swimming pool sized basin set into what looked like a solid chunk of marble; and a smaller bathroom adjoining the bedroom. Finished, he allowed himself a moments rest, laying back on the pleasantly yielding mattress and soft, thick quilts. Eyes closed, Squall's hand drifted to his forehead. What am I doing? What am I going to do? When these negotiations end, the mission will be over, I'll have to return to the garden… What is Rinoa going to do? Will she go back to Timber? Will she… will she ask me to go with her? If she does… if she doesn't… what am I going to do?

A bit later in the afternoon, after everyone had unpacked, the Timber delegates—accompanied by their SeeD escorts returned to the hotel's main hall to meet informally with the other negotiator—specifically those from Balamb Garden and Esthar.

Headmaster Cid and company were the first group to spot the Timber delegation as they emerged from the elevators. As the two groups converged, Selphie, then Rinoa caught Quistis up in a series of hugs, followed by an equivalent attempt by Irvine that acquired him only a brush-off by the SeeD instructor and a dirty look from Selphie. A brown streak raced across the lobby/hall/entryway pursued by a hapless bellhop.

"Oh Angelo!" Rinoa exclaimed as the ecstatic canine ran circles around her barking excitedly. Amidst the happy babble that ensued, Zell gave Quistis his usual handshake while she, Rinoa and Selphie attempted to hold a three-way conversation. Meanwhile, the headmaster was bowing and introducing the remaining SeeDs to Ferrin and the Timber delegation while the revolutionary leader reciprocated by introducing the members of her party. The President of Esthar, Laguna Loire, and his cabinet, Kiros Seagill and Ward Zabac, attempting unsuccessfully to evade their enormous entourage, chose that moment to arrive on the scene as well, adding to the chaos.

Through it all, Ferrin began to feel quite encouraged. Initially, she had feared Timber would be forced to negotiate from a position of relative weakness compared to the leverage that Balamb Garden—with its legions of professional soldiers—and Esthar—with its still powerful military and advanced technological capacity—would be able to exert. However, as the negotiations teams made introductions, and warmed to each other, it seemed that Timber would be included in a united front of deliberations against the Galbadians.

Eventually, the introductions made, the group split, Cid, Ferrin, Rinoa, and Laguna—accompanied by Ward and Kiros—found their way to a set of chairs and began discussing strategy for the upcoming negotiations, the remainder of the delegations from Timber and Esthar kept to themselves for the most part—discussing the same issues—and the SeeDs clustered together, catching up on the events that had transpired over the past days.

Squall followed the SeeDs, of course, but he kept a few paces back from the group, always keeping Rinoa in the corner of his eye, and participating in the conversation as much as was usual for him; not at all.

In this manner, the negotiations passed. Laguna, Cid, Rinoa and Ferrin, or 'the Big Four' as the press came to call them, lead the talks. Surprisingly, the Galbadian representatives put up very little initial resistance. As the conference got underway, the delegations were each relegated a quadrant of tables that were arranged in a circular pattern in the Extrêmement Coûteux's main conference center—a separate complex adjoining the hotel. The room was round, with descending levels of steps to a central dais, which rose a few feet above the lowest level of the floor on hydraulic lifts. This design gave the speaker a fairly good level of eye contact with whichever half of the room they happened to be facing as they were neither looking up at their audience nor staring down upon their heads. The arrangement proved to be perfect for the representatives of all factions except for Galbadia, as speakers from Balamb, Esthar, and Timber always addressed their comments and complaints to the Galbadian Quadrant of the room, while the Galbadians were forced to twist back and forth during their general addresses as they had to speak to an audience arranged at 270 degrees all around them.

Watching from the wings, Squall observed Rinoa's first address to the assembly with a sense of awe. As the sorceress approached the dais, it became apparent to Squall that she was again acting under the influence of her magic. Again, she managed to captivate the attention of everyone in the large conference hall without saying a word. When Rinoa did speak, even with the electronic amplification system turned off, it seemed—to each and every delegate—as if she were standing directly before them, addressing them personally as she spoke. Somehow, Rinoa managed to keep eye contact—and give the impression of an intense and focused gaze—with every single person in the room. She outlined the injustices Timber had suffered at the hands of the Galbadian occupiers, the damage caused by the Galbadian siege of Timber City, and the immeasurable expense, hardship, and loss suffered by the natives of Timber because of Galbadian actions. She then stated Timber's terms of independence, and restitution from Galbadia. All during her address, it seemed Squall—and every other person present—had never heard of logic so sound as what was being spoken by the sorceress. At the end of her address, Rinoa received a standing ovation from all members of the Timber, Balamb, and Esthar delegations, and even the Galbadians found themselves strangely compelled to offer up a grudging round of applause.

From that point on, the Galbadian's position became dimmer and dimmer as each country outlined its own complaints, terms, and conditions. Esthar was specifically demanding that control of the Lunatic Pandora be returned to them, or that the relic be completely destroyed. They also demanded compensation for the destruction of the incredibly expensive Lunar Base and the devastation wrought by the monster attacks on Esthar City and the surrounding areas—which they claimed resulted directly from the Galbadian's triggering of the Lunar Cry. In return, Esthar would be willing to sign a peace treaty ending all hostilities between the two nations. They also seemed open to the idea of the opening of a rail line into Esthar and the resumption of trade and technological exchange between Esthar and Galbadia.

Balamb Garden's demands—as outlined by the headmaster Cid Kramer, included the return of Galbadia Garden to the former students and SeeDs of that garden, and that control of Galbadia Garden be turned over to Balamb Garden staff. Cid also required Galbadia to pay monetary restitutions to Trabia and Balamb Gardens for the made during the recent hostilities. In return, Balamb Garden would not seek to pursue a course of offensive actions and surgical strikes within Galbadia aimed at toppling the current government. This drew murderous mutters from the Galbadian delegation, but there was little they could do to prevent such actions by the mobile garden and they knew it.

Throughout the course of the negotiations, Squall kept to the wings, always within eyesight of Rinoa, but never too close. He haunted the proceedings as her shadow, a displaced doppelganger that trailed her wherever she went. He changed the SeeDs' rotating watch schedule so that he was on duty throughout the night and early-morning hours. Midnight always found Squall pacing off the distance from the elevators to Rinoa's room and back again, weary, sad, and heartsick. He polished the knob of her door thousands of times a night with his palm, never quite daring to turn the knob.

As the talks dragged on, Squall became the resident ghost. He would drift from place to place, as if towed along by some invisible force that kept him near the sorceress Rinoa at all times. Squall ate little, talked not at all, and rarely slept. The pallor that descended over his features did nothing to dispel the ethereal aura forming about him.

The SeeDs, of course, noticed the change in their leader, and one-by-one each attempted—in their own manner—to bring Squall out of the deep funk that he had slipped into. None were successful. Squall would stand, staring sightlessly straight through them as they questioned, cajoled, and exhorted Squall to talk to them, to Rinoa, to Cid, to anyone. Eventually, Rinoa would leave that particular room, and Squall would raise a hand for silence, then drift away from whoever happened to be speaking at him at the moment.

Finally, realizing they would get nothing from Squall, the SeeDs chose to have Quistis broach the subject to Rinoa.

During a recess in the proceedings, Quistis approached Rinoa. She was painfully aware of Squall's gaze from across the room. "Hi, Rinoa."

The sorceress looked up from the small pad of paper on which she had been idly doodling. "Hi, Quistis. What's up?" Rinoa motioned to an empty chair. "Have a seat."

As Quistis lowered herself into the indicated piece of furniture, she cast about for the best words to express herself. "Uh… Rinoa, hm… This is kind of difficult to say…" She winced and started over. "What I mean is, I don't really know how to start…"

"Oh, Quis, we're all friends here." Rinoa flashed a little smile. "Go ahead and spit it out."

Quistis drew in a fortifying breath. "Well, ok. Uh… have you noticed anything—different about Squall lately?"

"Oh, you mean the skulking around the conference, how he doesn't talk to anyone, and how he's totally withdrawn?" Rinoa tried to make light of the situation, but Quistis could see the tiny lines of worry that crossed her forehead. "He seems to be operating in full 'Squall' mode, I guess."

"Yeah, I know that's pretty much normal for him, but we're all worried, I mean, something's really bothering him and I… well… it might affect his performance if there's an emergency." That wasn't what Quistis really wanted to say, but it seemed, to her, the safest way of expressing the SeeDs' concern.

Rinoa looked sideways at Quistis. Affect his performance? But that's not really what she means. She sighed.

"Well… we were all wondering, you know, I mean we don't want to be nosy but…"

"Do I know why he's acting like this?" Rinoa finished for Quistis. She sighed again. "Yes… yes, I do." Rinoa's hand unconsciously had found its way to the delicate links of metal she wore about her neck. She absently fingered the engraved metal circlet that hung from the chain. Quistis, do you know why Squall has to be like this? Do you know how to make him change? Is there anything, anything at all, that I could do to… "I'm sorry, I think this might all be my fault."

Quistis frowned. "No, Rinoa, don't worry, it's not your p—"

"Quistis, I'll… I'll see what I can do." Rinoa interrupted, her gaze falling back down to the pad of paper before her. God, Squall. Did you ever even want any of this? I mean, I was the one who wanted you to dance… I was the one who brought you to Timber… All your friends, they were the ones trying so desperately to put us together… But all those other times… When you carried me across Esthar… When you jumped from that life pod… When you came to the sorceress memorial to get me out… Was it all just…just doing your job? Were you just following orders? What about that night on the garden's upper deck…during that storm… after the Timber revolution… what was that?

Quistis watched the Sorceress as she became lost in her own thoughts. "Thank you, Rinoa." She said, rose, and left.

Rinoa did not hear her go. What are you doing now, Squall? Why do you torture yourself so? Is It because of your duty… is it because you are bound to me as my knight? Is that what keeps you here? Or is it… could it be… because of me? Rinoa looked up, she turned her head to where she knew Squall would be. A tiny hopeful smile… Squall might as well have been carved from a piece of pale granite. Rinoa looked away biting down on her tongue. The pain was a welcome relief.

In the early morning of the final day of negotiations, Rinoa stood on the balcony of the Extrêmement Coûteux's main hall, gazing over the rooftops of Dollett through a giant pane of crystal set into the hotel's forward wall. Far out on the horizon, a fiery orange crescent radiated the first rays of sunlight of the new day as it slowly ballooned into a brilliant sphere. The water slowly brightened from black to silver then to aqua as the shadows of Dollett's buildings gradually shortened in the wakening day. She spoke. "Squall, the Galbadian president has asked me to return to Deling."

From behind Rinoa, Squall nodded. He had seen the short conference between Rinoa and a representative of Galbadia. In fact, he had been keenly aware of the Galbadian's proximity to Rinoa, his own distance from the pair, and the length of time it would have taken him to draw his weapon and cross that distance should the representative prove a bit too hostile. "They can't force you to go." His voice was rusty from disuse.

Rinoa looked out at the mist among the docks, slowly being burned away by the rising sun. "I know. I think I should go. There's something…" She trailed off.

Squall stood.

"I'm going to Deling." Rinoa said at length. "What are you going to do?"

Squall bit back a sigh. "The mission is ending. I'll be ordered back to Balamb Garden." He paused. "But I will accompany you to Deling, if that is where you wish to go."

"Why?"

"It is my…" …duty. Say it! Who cares if it's not true!? "It is what I have to do." Squall finally said.

Back turned to Squall, Rinoa's eyes closed. I'll miss you, Squall. "No it isn't."

"What do you mean?"

Instead of answering, Rinoa opened one hand, allowing two objects to fall onto the mahogany surface of a small end table with a metallic clinking. She turned toward the stairs. "Goodbye, Squall." Rinoa walked away.

As Rinoa descended the richly carpeted stairway, Squall approached the table. He gathered the fallen objects up in one hand. Two identical rings—each with the figure of a lion worked into the metal—rang quietly as they touched in Squall's palm. Rinoa had released her knight.

Rinoa reached the main floor. Squall… stop me. Call out my name.

Squall placed a hand on the balcony railing, below him, he saw Rinoa heading toward the elevators. Rinoa! Wait! Don't go!

Rinoa looked up. For an instant their eyes met. The words formed on Squall's lips… and he bit down on them ruthlessly. He tasted his own blood, and then Rinoa was gone.

As the negotiations wrapped up, the four factions found that they had, somehow, managed to hammer out a form of treaty that was acceptable to all. No one could deny that the document would not have existed were it not for some extraordinary concessions made by the Galbadian delegation. Included in the document was the decommissioning of the Lunatic Pandora. The great powerplants that provided energy to the relic were to be removed and dismantled within a rigorous timetable; the remaining shell of the Pandora would be forever grounded in a deserted section of the Centra continent. The defunct husk would then be overseen by a joint force of Galbadian and Esthar soldiers. Research teams would be allowed access to the remains of the device based on merit studies of their proposals—reviewed by both the Esthar and Galbadian governments. Galbadia also agreed to provide capital backing, to those businesses that had suffered financial losses, in the form of interest free loans, and the purchasing of large amounts of 'Restitution Stock' in the companies. The RS would give the Galbadians little or no leverage over the companies, but it would allow them to collect dividends should the institutions prosper. In return, Esthar would de-mobilize a percentage its armed forces and cease the hit-and-run attacks it's navy had been utilizing to harass Galbadian coastal defenses.

Galbadia also had agreed to return full control of Galbadia Garden to the garden's displaced students within the next three months. It also agreed to provide a fair monetary recompense to Trabia and Balamb Gardens for damage incurred during the fighting. In return, Balamb Garden was not to participate in covert anti-Galbadian operations within Galbadia for at least one year, and it was also required that Trabia Garden not attempt to execute any sort of vengeance strikes within Galbadia. That Trabia Garden was in no condition to do anything of the sort was a fact that Cid had carefully hidden from the Galbadians.

As for Timber, Galbadia agreed to recognize the nation as an independent state, and to withdraw any remaining forces from within Timber. All Timber nationals would be released from Galbadian prisons and returned to Timber. Galbadia also agreed to provide construction equipment and capital on a lend-lease basis to Timber to assist in the reconstruction of areas damaged by fighting. In return, the newly formed Timber government pledged to release all Galbadian POWs on a set timetable.

So by all rights, Rinoa should have been happy. Something she had been fighting for half her life, she had finally helped attain. Timber, her home—or at least that was how she thought of it—was free at last. Galbadia was making concessions left and right, and she had even been invited to Deling City on a mission that would—most likely—allow her to assist her countrymen even more. But Rinoa didn't feel happy, instead, she felt lost, frightened, alone. She had said her goodbyes to everyone; Ferrin, Cid, Quistis, Selphie, Zell, Irvine, and even President Laguna. Rinoa smiled sadly, she had hoped to speak with the Sorceress Ellone again, but the Esthar Government—essentially translating into Laguna Loire—had feared for her safety in a territory with such close proximity to Galbadia, and so, Ellone was back in Esthar and Rinoa was walking the hall of the floor of the Timber Delegation for the last time. At the fourth door before the elevators Rinoa paused. Of its own accord, he hand drifted to the knob. She let it hang there for a moment, knowing she would never turn the handle. Beside her, Angelo sniffed at the door, then barked once. Rinoa thought she heard a sound from inside, quickly she shushed Angelo, but instead of hurrying toward the elevators, she lingered a moment. Did he hear? Will he come out?

Eventually, she let out a long-held breath. Head down, she made her way into the elevator.

Squall stared at the ornate clock ticking sluggishly from atop the nightstand. She'll be getting her things together now… He wrapped his hands around an ornamental wooden wing carved into the pole from which one of the bedposts had been made as if to anchor himself. Now she's in the hall… Squall's grip tightened. He would not move, he swore to himself. She should be nearly to the elevators now… From outside Squall's door came the unmistakable sound of a dog's bark. The carving snapped off in his hands. He rose to his feet turning toward the suite's entryway. No! Squall jammed his hands into his jacket pockets and forced himself to turn away. Between the fingers of his right hand, he felt the cool touch of two smooth hoops of metal. I am alone… I am safe… I will be ok on my own… Squall lied silently to himself. Squall began playing a small game with himself. The rules were; for every 10 ticks of the clock, he allowed himself one step towards the door, if he stepped before the tenth tick, he had to take two steps back towards the bed. An eternity after he begun the game, Squall lost to himself as his hand fell upon the suite's doorknob. He waited for the tenth tick…

The door to the emergency stairway crashed open, as a black-jacketed figure rocketed down toward the lobby of the Extrêmement Coûteux. Paying no attention to the startled stares of hotel guests chatting and relaxing in the main lobby, Squall dashed across the cavernous room and threw himself out the gilded glass doors to the street, arm outstretched, mouth open readying a call. An empty street greeted him. She was gone.

Squall felt a presence behind him. He did not turn.

"You're a fool for letting her go." The president of Esthar leaned idly against one of the stone pillars supporting the Extrêmement Coûteux's elaborate streetside façade.

Squall's words formed on his lips unbidden. "You know nothing about me, or my situation."

Laguna's eyebrow rose a hair. "Oh no?" He pulled a hand from a pocket, examining the bit of lint that he had extracted. "You'd be surprised what I know."

"Why don't you just leave me alone?" Squall gritted, still refusing to turn to face the president.

Laguna sighed. "Squall, let me give you a bit of fa—friendly advice." He paused to flick the fuzzy ball from his fingers. "Whatever it is that is keeping you from her… get over it."

Now Squall did turn. "That's your advice?" He demanded. "'Get over it'?" Baring his teeth, he spat, "I'll take that under advisement, Mr. President." He turned to leave.

Laguna's voice followed Squall. "If you don't, if you lose her because of it, you'll never forgive yourself." As the door to the hotel shut, Laguna continued quietly to himself. "I know… I never will."

Rinoa sat huddled into the corner of the passenger compartment of the long black Galbadian limousine as it rolled across the countryside near Dollett. Angelo was lying across the remainder of the rear seat, head on paws, enjoying the pleasant—if absentminded—ear-scratching Rinoa was administering. Rinoa clung to the comforting presence of her companion as her mind repeated unhappy thoughts to her. He didn't come… I waited for so long… He doesn't care… I was so sure he would… He didn't come… She sighed—unhappy, scared—and hugged Angelo's neck. "Promise you won't abandon me, ok, Angelo?" Though somewhat strangled by the embrace, Angelo managed to give Rinoa's face a reassuring lick.

In the driver's seat of the limousine, the Galbadian chauffer sipped at his morning coffee, keeping his eyes on rear of the leading armored escort, bored out of his mind. Suddenly, the vehicle ahead slowed. The driver stepped on his own brakes and craned his neck to peer around the escort vehicle. Ahead, in the middle of the road, someone had parked a sky-blue minivan across both lanes of the highway. Some idiot was standing in front of the rental van, arms folded across his chest, watching as the entire convoy halted and soldiers poured out of the escort vehicles. "Not another stupid protestor." The Galbadian driver muttered to himself, as he shifted into reverse—followed the directions of a soldier waving at him to back away from the potential threat. As an afterthought, the driver locked the limousine's doors. He smiled to himself at his initiative as he heard the handle of the rear passenger door working. "No, Miss Heartilly, we'll handle this, you just stay put back there." He said, keying the limousine's intercom. The driver neglected, however, to lock the limousine's sunroof. He sipped at his coffee again, the army boys would get rid of this troublemaker in short order.

The Chauffer shouted in alarm and splashed the hot beverage all over himself as two booted feet thudded down on the windshield in front of him, followed by four furry paws. The limousine rocked slightly as Rinoa and Angelo jumped from the hood of the car to the ground and sprinted past the shouting soldiers.

As she had a seeming lifetime ago in a cabin aboard a rebel railroad car, Rinoa threw herself into the arms of a taciturn 5'8" eighteen-year-old SeeD from Balamb Garden. Only this time, the arms of her scarred knight did not seek to hold her back, rather drawing her into a whirling embrace as she locked her hands behind his back and held on as if the world would end should she ever let go.

"Rinoa! God, I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!" The year older—and much more loquacious Squall whispered into her ear as they clung to each other. "I've been such an idiot." Squall continued as Angelo ran rings around the pair barking enthusiastically. Rinoa was too happy to speak, so Squall continued with the little breath he could force past their wonderfully tight embrace. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"No, you big dummy! I'm just hugging you so tight to make you asphyxiate!" Rinoa gasped happily.

The soldiers ringing the pair, with much eye-rolling and shrugging, slowly piled back into the escort APCs as the leader of the Galbadian negotiations team—a bald, officious little man named Tatus Sylvania—approached the pair. Folding his arms, he regarded the sorceress and knight. "Well then, if we're about done with the tearful reunions…" Getting no response, he tried a different tack. "So, I take it the SeeD will be accompanying us the rest of the way to Deling?"

Rinoa finally looked back at Tatus. Go away, you annoying little turd. "Yes." She said instead.

"Well then, whenever you two are ready, the rest of the convoy is waiting to leave." He huffed.

"Do you want me to kill him for you?" Squall whispered.

"Please do. I don't think anyone would mind too much." Rinoa snickered.

Back in the limousine at last, Rinoa again attached herself to Squall. A wet nose poked her side accompanied by a small whine. "Oh, don't worry, Angelo, I haven't forgotten about you!" Suddenly the canine regretted drawing attention to himself as he was smooshed against Rinoa's side by her free arm. She gave a happy squeeze that forced the breath out of man and dog alike and reached forward with her foot to tap on the tinted glass that separated driver from passengers. "Ok, I've got both my big toys, we can go now." She giggled.

Happily strangulated by the sorceress, Squall was surprised at how much he liked being referred to in such a manner.

Thirty or forty miles later, Rinoa allowed Squall to take his first full breath. "I'm so glad you came back." Rinoa sighed happily. Her eyes twinkled. "I guess this means I won't have to hunt you down and kill you now." Squall looked a bit confused at that. Rinoa poked him. "You know, if, if you love something, let it go, if it doesn't come back…"

"I thought that was supposed to end with 'it was never really yours to begin with'." Squall frowned.

Rinoa stuck out her tongue at him. "Well, I like my version better." She reached over and hugged Squall again. "Besides, I always knew you were mine."

So did I.

Rinoa repeated happily as she squeezed him again. "Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine!" Angelo shot Squall a sympathetic look.

When Squall could breath again, he smiled—it took a lot of effort. Has it really been so long since I--

Rinoa was on him like greased lighting. "Hey! No brooding!" She pointed a finger. "This is my seat, and I say it's a 'no brooding zone' so you have to tell me what you're thinking."

This time, Squall's features cracked into a genuine smile. "Ok, your grand exalted sorceresship. I see you've gone from buttons to backseats."

Rinoa beeped Squall's nose. "No changing the subject. Tell me what you're thinking, or I'll use my powers to turn your nose into a… a… well, something that you wouldn't want to have as a nose."

Squall threw up his hands in surrender. "Ok. I was just thinking about us." Rinoa's eyes lit up at the word. Squall took a fortifying breath, he was going to tell her all of it, she deserved as much after everything that had happened. "Rinoa, I… I don't think I can live without you anymore. I…" Squall looked down at his feet. "…I tried really hard to, and I'm sorry that I hurt you." He paused. "Do you remember what we talked about when we were on our way back from the Lunar Base aboard the Ragnarok?" Rinoa nodded solemnly. "Well, you were right. You were right then, and you were right that evening aboard the Ambassador I. You did get—you have gotten—you are too close. I got scared."

"You ran…" Rinoa trailed off.

Squall nodded slightly. "But I didn't get very far. I couldn't."

The corners of Rinoa's mouth turned down just the slightest bit. "You were bound to me, you were my knight."

"No… it was something else… something more." He paused. "Rinoa, I…"

Rinoa looked up, she looked straight into Squall's eyes, into his soul. Oh please say it! But she saw the slightest edges of panic start to creep into them. He's not ready yet…I don't know if I'm ready either… Again, Rinoa allowed him to escape. "It's ok. I understand." Rinoa hugged him again.

A relieved Squall spoke over her shoulder. "I'm sorry, I'm such a coward."

Rinoa broke the tension by giving Squall a playful shove. "Oh yeah, you're just a big chicken!" She grinned at him. "Mr. 'I killed an evil sorceress from the future', Mr. 'I fought for a small country's independence'" She began poking Squall again. "Mr. 'I like to run around at night attacking dinosaurs in the dark to work out my aggression.'"

Squall looked startled. "You knew about that?"

"Of course, silly, Quistis told me." She laughed at him. "Mr. 'I didn't know girls talked about guys when they're not around.'" She sighed slightly and added. "Mr. 'I like to take sorceresses on emotional roller-coaster rides.'"

"Not any more." Squall guided Rinoa's chin up with a finger until their eyes met again. "Rinoa, I promise. I'll take some very good advice someone gave me once. Whatever happens to us, I can handle it. Whatever happened in my past, I'll get over it." He paused. "I'm not going to leave you ever again."

"Oh, Squall." Suddenly a thought occurred to Rinoa. She put both hands on the sides of Squall's head, trapping him, and moved so their noses touched. "I need you to make one more promise, ok?" Squall nodded—careful not to bump heads. "If I kiss you now, you have to promise not to say something totally inane afterward. Ok?" Squall crossed his heart with a free hand, and Rinoa did.

Chapter 4