Author's Note: All characters property of Square Enix, yadda yadda…
I've never really been taken in by the whole Rinoa-is-Ultimacia deal- hell, it's about as crackpot a theory as you'll find out there- but it did intrigue me long enough to write this. Anyway.
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Starlight and candlelight. He tries to be aloof, to stand back from it all, the enigmatic lone wolf. She smiles coyly, and takes his hand in a flash. He stumbles, unsure how to react and then they are among the crowd, and he has no choice but to dance. If only he knew how. She smiles again, and guides his hands. He is clumsy, tripping over his own feet to stop from tripping over hers, enough to make her laugh. They dance.
Starlight and candlelight, shimmering on her dress. He is more comfortable now as they move among the couples, and though he can feel eyes on him, this feels right. Turning under the dome of the hall, the music and her hands guiding him through the steps. He smiles down. She smiles up. This is happiness. Is it love?
And all the while, she does not know whether it is happening now or whether she is remembering it.
She is standing before her throne, and she holds the world in her hand. She is waiting to end it. (Is she?) All the power of sorcery is hers, coursing in her veins and glistening on her fingertips. She thinks they will be here soon, and then, eyes alight with the power, she will end them. (Will she?)
What about this kiss under the perfect starlight, or that one, or any of a countless number on the lush grass, beauty extending around them? Are they all happening to her here, in this time, or did they happen before? She wonders why she cannot tell.
This is her castle (It must be). How dare they come here? How dare they slay her protectors, and think to challenge her? Here, she is the one with all the power of the ages, the power to destroy everything. She tightens her grip on Time itself, compressing it further, forcing the world closer to the end of it all. She will destroy everything inside Time and that, at last, will be the end of that. She is the Sorceress (She must be).
Cold. So cold. Starlight, too close, but no candlelight. This is the wrong place. She thinks she might die here. Please, not here. But then he is there, gathering her into his arms and carrying her across the infinite void, and she knows she is safe.
It is later, and her arms are wrapped so tightly around him that he can hardly breathe. He is so warm, so reassuring. He will not leave her, not now. It's about believing, and now she really does believe; this is love. This is real; this is what she's searched for. This has to be happening to her now- a memory was never so real.
As the broiling clouds roll below her, she feels them so close now, and she knows that soon she will finally close her hand and destroy everything and she will finally be pirouetting under candlelight and starlight as the music climaxes and the dance comes to an end. For the longest moment, they do not move, content just to smile and to hold and to be. And as he gazes longingly down into those eyes, he thinks that just for a moment they are endless and glowing with the power of sorcery. (Are they?)