Disclaimer – I do not, and have never owned any aspects of the video game Final Fantasy VIII – this story is written for fun, and for the pleasure of anyone reading it, and I do not, nor will I make profit from it
Tears Of A Lion – By Eiry D
Chapter 1 – Reflections"Listen, Rinoa… it… it isn't working. I can't do this any more, I don't love you and I never have. Everyone forced me into doing this and I…" Not knowing what to say, he simply nodded. Staring into her eyes, blue to brown.
If it had been anyone else that she'd been dating, she would have thought it was a joke. She didn't get dumped, she was the Perfect Princess. She got what she wanted, and people were perfectly willing to give it to her. She had laughed, shocked. But the General's daughter had been shot down from her thoroughbred high-horse, and had not landed on her feet.
They'd talk, of course. The commander of Balamb Garden and The Good Sorceress. They'd been written about, talked about; their whole lives documented and interpreted by every author worth their salt. After all, they were the perfect couple, and they had their own fairy tale. The lowly knight and the beautiful princess, battling to kill their wicked witch, and find each other with the power of true love.
It sickened her.
The reporters and the biographers had conveniently left out the side stories, the smaller details of their dramatic lives. Where were the tales of hate, lies, and deceit? All hidden from the public eye. But this, this was one thing that would not go unnoticed. This would ruin them, or at least her. Squall, as always, wouldn't care.
So here she was, in her dorm, sitting on her white linen sheets, staring at her reflection in the vanity mirror. Streaks of mascara ran down her face, marking her tears. Her red, puffy eyes stared out at her. Brown to brown. For once she'd been happy in her life, satisfied. But now her first feelings of love were crushed.
She was angry, and angry tears sprang afresh from her eyes.
"How could you do this to me?" She screeched to her reflection. In reply, all it did was claw at the bed sheets. The figure in the glass mocking her movements. The pressure in her head built up, the sounds in the room rattled about her ears, the light from the bright white walls seared in her eyes.
"WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?"
The image before her shattered into a million pieces, tinkling glass sounded everywhere as it scattered across the floor. She stared once more at herself through the broken fragments of the mirror. Her powers were getting stronger now, and more dangerous.
Her breathing began to slow again, and shaking; she stood. Her designer boots crunched over the broken glass, she tore at the chain around her neck with her bloody, and broken nails. Her mother's engagement ring slipped itself around her ring finger, and Squall's simple lion was held high so she could see every detail. It was blood-tarnished. Ruined.
She began to laugh.
"Something to remember me by, Squall." She cackled. The sound was metallic, cruel, and so cold. It was as if it weren't her own, though it was horribly familiar.
She turned now toward the frosted glass door that led out into the corridor, she looked at the people-shaped-blurs behind the glass pane. They were there. They'd laugh at her. Seething with anger, she felt the pressure build up again, and another explosion. The last thing that she would feel in a long time was the glass biting into her cheek. Long, black veins of blood ran over her pure white face.
She would be powerful, she would be great, no longer the pure, innocent child.
"Ah Miss Trepe! How may I help you?" Quistis smiled at the girl at the desk, was it Helen? She hoped so.
"Hi Helen." She smiled back, much to the relief of the instructor.
"Is the Commander available?"
"Judging from his mood…? Unlikely."
"Ah."
The women both laughed, Squall had regular angsty sessions where he would retreat to his room, cancel all appointments, and usually destroy the majority of his office furniture.
"I'll just go in, take the brunt of it."
"Okay Instructor, good luck but um… I warned you, okay?"
Quistis forced a laugh, and turned to the polished oak doors, pushing them aside she stepped in. She just stared for a little while, this was far worse than anything she'd seen Squall do before. Furniture was smashed and wrecked, buried beneath paperwork strewn across the floor, having been ripped from drawers and trays. Her eyes flickered across the room, scanning the decimation that this now calm man had caused. Their eyes met. Blue, met blue.
"Bad day?"
"Yeah."
She smiled at the words, and he smiled back. A year ago, it would have been "Whatever" and a scowl. Funny how things change.
She looked again at the devastation. She knew just how much Squall hated his office, all neat and perfect and organised. What's worse is that it was expected of him to have an office like this, so they gave it to him despite protests. Usually he'd take out his anger on pretty much everything, especially the Garden issue furniture. But the one thing that he'd really focused on this time was a pretty, compact, real-leather designer chair. Expensive, that was for sure, and a gift from the ever-perfect Rinoa. It had reminded Quistis of her, so perfect and expensive and pretty. But now… now it was charred and burnt and broken. He hated it.
"So tell me then." She said to break the silence.
Squall sat in the remains of his chair, and she couldn't help but laugh.
"I broke up with her."
"You did what?" The surprise in her voice was genuine; he had broken up with her? Impossible.
"I. Broke. Up. With. Her. Could I make it simpler? Diagrams, perhaps." He joked, waving a hand at a white-board. Cut to shrebbons. The blonde frowned for a second.
"That… might explain things a little." She said.
"Explain what?"
She sighed.
"The reason I'm here. At three o'clock this afternoon a large build up of mana energy was detected near the dorms. The faculty were sent down, because we just assumed that it was a student practicing magic. No traces of magic were found, however. Nobody had been admitted to the infirmary with magic-related wounds. In fact, staff present at the dorms witnessed nothing."
She paused, he didn't say, or do anything. So she just carried on.
"Still though… slight traces of mana were still present, and then localised to the girls dormitories. By three-thirty another build-up of energy was detected. It had gotten so large that we were considering evacuating Garden. Still, everything at the scene was normal. About five minutes after the last communication between the office and the present faculty member, there was an explosion from Rinoa's dorm. The glass in her door was just… shattered, and she was blown clean out of it. We don't know yet, but we expect it was her own doing."
He frowned, Quistis was wasting his time. Why should he be concerned with her? Why was he still expected to look after her?
"Then she should be disciplined appropriately. There is to be no magic practiced except in the authorised zones, it's simple procedure, Quis."
"Squall, she was taken straight to the infirmary. She's in a deep, mana-induced coma."
Those last words spoken by the instructor caused the slightest flicker in Squall's eyes. He took his hand from his chin, and raked it through his hair.
"Well then, a matter for the medical staff and then the disciplinary staff."
Quistis stared at him in disbelief. Squall could be cold, and certainly nonchalant. But he had always cared for others' well being, at least… she thought so.
"Squall?" How could he be such an asshole? Yesterday he and Rinoa had been inseparable. Rinoa had even been hinting at marriage in her own way.
"Quis, I really couldn't care less." He was irritated; he didn't need to be bothered with something so… trivial. In his eyes, Rinoa was now no more than cargo. She was no SeeD, only a sorceress who should in fact be every member of Garden's sworn enemy. As soon as they landed, in fact he wanted her out of Garden, and out of his life.
"Well then Sir. As Commander, you should notify her next of kin. That's General Carraway."
She stood upright, not wanting to look her friend in the eyes. How could he be so uncaring? All she was waiting for a simple:
"Dismissed."
Which she took, spun on her heel and strode hastily out of the office. Before the door closed, she turned, frowned at him and asked"
"Who are you?"
And then she left. The Commander sat, swamped in his battered chair, and whispered softly.
"I wish I knew, Quistis."
A/N I know, I'm queen of the re-writes. But I've so many stories, so many ideas that I love and that… well when I was younger I just felt that I did them no justice. So review please
On a side note, I apologise profusely for the formatting if it hasn't worked; it seems my computer dislikes and doesn't want me to upload with lovely underlines, alignment and the like. Sigh
