Author's Notes: This story is inspired by the short story by Anton Chekhov The Lady with the Pet Dog. I have ideas for a sequel if this gets enough reviews. Seifer and Rinoa are not my favorite pairing, which is why I drop hints toward others. Please review if you read! I realize at times Rinoa seems a little OOC but she is moody. I think I got Seifer pretty well.
I dedicate it to Squaresoft and Chekhov
1
A new person, it was said, had appeared around the train station: a lady with a pet dog. Seifer Almsay, who had spent a week in Timber and got used to the place, had also taken an interest in new arrivals. As he sat shooting the shit with the guy that owned the pet shop, he saw, walking along a train rail like a balance beam, a dark haired young woman of medium height, wearing combat boots; some kind of mutt trotted behind her—Seifer had never known about dogs.
Afterwards he saw her in the pub and in the inn looking at the train set. She was always alone, wearing the same soft blue and always with her mutt; no one knew who she was and everyone called her simply "the lady with the pet dog".
"Well, hell, if a hot chick like that is here by herself," Seifer mused day after day, "I could maybe offer her a little company."
Seifer was eighteen, but he had already been with several women. The first, when he was very young, had been older than he, a SeeD cadet. She had been a self-named intellectual, reading a great deal, using simplified spelling in her letters and reports. He had privately considered her of little intelligence, narrow-minded, and boring, so he ended it. He almost always spoke ill of women, and when they were talked of in his presence called them "the inferior race."
It seemed to him he had been sufficiently tutored in their bitchy ways to call them whatever he wished; however, he could not have lived without "the inferior race" for two days together. In the company of men, he was what some would call an asshole; but when he was among women, he was free, easygoing, able to communicate. In his appearance, in his character, in his whole makeup there was something attractive and elusive that made him a chick magnet. He knew that, and some force seemed to draw him to them, too.
Oft-repeated and really bitter experience had taught him long ago that with decent people—particularly the innocent type of girl whose best friend was her dog—every affair which at first seems a light and charming adventure inevitably goes to hell in a handbasket and in the end no one is happy. But at every new meeting with an interesting or beautiful woman, this lesson of experience seemed to slip from his memory and he was eager for life, and everything seemed so simple and diverting.
One evening when he was eating in the courtyard outside the pub the lady walked up without haste to the next table. Her expression, her gait, her dress, and the way she did her hair told him she was from money, that she was alone to do as she wished for perhaps the first time in her life, and that she was bored. Timber had little excitement to offer this girl; the only place in the world that could offer any excitement was Deling; but when the lady sat down next to him, suddenly life in Timber became very engaging indeed.
He beckoned secretly to the mutt, and when the dog approached him, he started cursing, shaking his fist at the dog; the dog started barking like an idiot at trying to bite him.
"Angelo!" the girl cried, grabbing it (he?) by the collar and dragging him off.
"Maybe feeding it will shut it up." Seifer posed, throwing the dog the rest of his burger. The dog thus appeased, the two were left to stare at each other.
"So Timber sucks, huh?" he asked as she shuffled her boots uncomfortably.
"Only to people who aren't making a life here." She said coyly, going back to her table. Seifer laughed, and after dinner they walked together and there sprang up between them the banter of the very free and very young, to whom it does not matter where they go or what they talk about. They walked and talked of the light on the train tracks; of how the breeze in Timber smelled like earth and smog, and how that smell was the story of this place. They talked of how it never rained but the sun never shone. Seifer told her about Garden, that he was studying to be a SeeD in Balamb but that he really wanted to be a knight. He told her that he was in Timber to cool his heels, take some time for reflection during his two week summer break. And he learned from her that her name was Rinoa, that she had grown up in Deling, the daughter of General Caraway, and that she had come here to join the resistance. She talked of the resistance with an animated passion and sense of purpose that broke his heart. It was futile, yet she believed in it so.
Afterwards in his room at the inn he thought about her—and was certain he'd meet her again the next day. It was bound to happen. Getting into bed he thought how free and easy she had been with a stranger. Still, it must have been the first time in her life she was alone in a setting in which she was followed, looked at, and spoken to for one secret purpose alone, one which she could hardly fail to guess. He thought of her slim, delicate throat, her lovely blue eyes.
"There's something elusive in her, though. Like a shadow." He thought, and dropped off.
2
A week had passed since they became acquaintances. It was a typical summer day; close indoors, still and stifling in the streets. One was always thirsty, and the two of them were constantly visiting the house on the edge of town for a drink of cool clear water. They didn't know what to do with themselves when they went there, because the old man was obviously half-mad. They would leave his house with a mixture of amusement and fear.
In the evening when the day had cooled they would walk in the forests where the green was eternal and the night smelled young. There were a few other people in the woods as well—for the people of Timber, this retreat was as ancient as the trees themselves. Rinoa searched the woods for wildlife, Angelo trailing at her heels nose to the ground. Every sound, every rustling bush, was to her magic, and when she looked at Seifer her eyes were very bright. She talked a great deal and asked questions jerkily, forgetting the next moment what she had asked.
Soon it was too dark to see anything in the depths of the forest, but the two of them still wandered, slowly ambling their way back to town. Rinoa was silent now, and sniffed the flowers she had gathered thoughtfully without looking at Seifer.
"Well, at least it isn't so damn hot now. What do you want to go do?" Seifer asked as they walked through the archway into town.
She didn't say a word, only looked at him, eyes hidden beneath a fall of raven hair.
He looked back, and suddenly he embraced her, and kissed her chastely; the scent of the wildflowers enveloped him.
"Where are you staying?" he heard himself asking from far away. And that was how he came to see the train base.
Her room was stuffy and sickeningly pink. It smelled like her, the perfume she wore. Looking at her he wondered how experienced she was. He remembered women who were carefree, grateful to him for whatever he gave, however brief; women like his first SeeD girl who loved without sincerity, with too many words, with an expression that it wasn't love or even lust that engaged them but some deeper emotion; and of the ice queen, the one he had not yet been able to reach, intelligent, engaging, asking for more than he might want to give or even could give.
But here, with Rinoa, was the timidity of an inexperienced youth, a feeling of awkwardness, as if Biggs had suddenly burst into the room. Rinoa Heartilly, the lady with the pet dog, treated what happened very seriously, as though it were her fall, as though those stupid wings on the back of her robe were real. Seifer found this both odd and inappropriate. Her features drooped and faded, and her hair hung down like a veil over her face; she grew pensive.
"Do you still respect me? Am I still something to you?" she asked, her face desperate.
Seifer sighed, ate a toffee from a box of chocolates on the table. They were silent for at least half an hour, she lost in thoughts, he demolishing the box of chocolates.
There was something touching in Rinoa; she had the purity of a well-bred naïve princess who had seen little of life. The dim light in the room illuminated her unhappy face.
"Rinoa, you're being stupid," He said finally. "Why would I stop respecting you?"
"Because we did a terrible thing."
"It isn't like Hyne is going to strike you down."
"How can you be so callous? I have deceived myself, I've deceived you… I wanted something better. I thought I wanted to live, curiosity was eating me alive. You made me want something, I couldn't be held back…what kind of person am I?"
Seifer was already bored with her; he was irritated by the naïveté he had found so charming, by her repentance , so unexpected and out of place; but for the tears in her eyes he would have thought she was kidding.
"What the fuck do you want from me, Rinoa?" he asked finally, sweeping the almost empty box from the table. The little black papers and the coconut chocolates he refused to eat spilled. Angelo began to sniff them so Rinoa picked them up. As she did, she spoke.
"I don't know what I'm doing. Simple people say that Hyne is testing them. Do I believe in Hyne? Do I believe in the resistance? Who am I now that I have done this? What has changed in me?"
"Hush." He said sternly, pulling her to her feet and making her look at him. "You think too much."
After a moment Rinoa laughed. "No one has ever told me that before." They both laughed, then, and slowly the mood improved.
Afterward they went out to look at the light on the train tracks. The town was deserted. On impulse they bought a train ticket and went to Dollet. In Dollet they walked on the beach and collected shells as the sun came up. Walking alongside the young woman who was so beautiful in the early light, shrouded in the fog rolling off the sea, Seifer felt spellbound. He reflected that everything in life really is beautiful; everything except what we do when we forget ourselves and act without thinking.
A guard on patrol looked at them suspiciously as they climbed the stairs to find a café and have breakfast. And this detail, too, that they in youth were suspicious, was beautiful to Seifer. As they ate they watched ships come in.
"Time to go back." Rinoa announced. "Angleo is probably wondering where I am."
They returned to Timber.
They met every day at twelve o'clock, had lunch, walked the damn dog, played cards, admired the forest, talked. She complained that she slept badly, asked him the same questions over and over. One moment she was happy; the next she was morose, complaining that he no longer respected her, asking him who she was, what she was, why was she here, questions he couldn't answer. Often in these fits of existentialism he would kiss her to bring her back to her senses. Complete idleness worked a change in him; he told her how beautiful she was, how seductive; he hated to be away from her, while she was often pensive and challenged him to confess that he didn't love her, didn't respect her, that she was common to him. Sometimes they would take the train places, and were always impressed by the beauty of the world.
His two week leave came to an end. She went with him to the train station, his cadet uniform between them as a wall.
"We'll see each other again someday." He said, kissing her forehead. She wasn't crying, but her face was so sad she looked sick. She begged him to remember nice things about her.
The train moved off rapidly, silently, leaving Rinoa standing on the platform. Seifer reflected, musing, that there had been another episode in his life that was now ended (for he didn't really expect to see her again) and now nothing was left of it but a memory.
3
Back at Garden, he fell into his old routines with barely a hitch. The Disciplinary Committee paperwork had piled up in his absence (Raijin and Fujin were so damn lazy), not to mention his regular homework, which contrary to popular belief he did do, and his hobbies of tormenting Puberty Boy, Chicken Wuss, and Instructor Ice. Not to mention everyone else who crossed his path at the wrong time.
Sometimes he wondered where the man he had been in Timber had gone.
He trained like crazy, hoping for a SeeD mission to come soon so he could finally earn the rank he wanted so badly.
A month or so would pass, and then he knew he would forget Rinoa Heartilly, her image would fade to a fond memory like the rest. But more than a month went by, the leaves on the trees began to change, and still she was clear in his mind, as though they had parted only yesterday. His memories glowed more and more vividly. As he filled out detention slips or patrolled the halls, or when he saw the sun come up, or smelled earth on the wind, suddenly everything would rise up in his memory and in his mind the past would mingle with the future. He did not dream of her, but she followed him everywhere. When he shut his eyes he saw her, lovely, before him. He imagined himself a finer man than he had been to her in Timber, his callousness gone. Of evening she peered at him from the bookcases in the library, the bushes in the training center—he heard her breathing, the click of her heels on the pavement. In the halls he followed women with his eyes looking for one who resembled her.
Already he was tormented by the desire to talk about meeting her. But here in Garden, it was impossible to talk about love, to understand love in a factory producing instruments of death. There was no love among a pack of raptors, only a uneasy agreement not to eat each other unless they were starving. And what was there to talk about? He didn't love her then, did he? Had there been anything heart-stopping, earth-shattering, undeniably right about his relationship with Rinoa? So he was forced to talk about women and love vaguely, and no one guessed what he meant; Raijin told him to shut up on more than one occasion.
Then, the SeeD exam came.
He failed. He failed because he was headstrong and young and because the Ice Queen hated him. At least he had the pleasure of knowing that she'd lose her Instructor's License. He contented himself with this as he dressed to attend yet another Inauguration Ball for everyone but himself. Shit, even that ditzy little messenger girl from Squad A had fucking passed.
The door slid open, and Rinoa was outside it.
"Good evening." She said nervously, shuffling her feet in their cream high heels. She looked amazing. She was like a pale angel with a raven crown. She was…
Seifer cleared his throat. He remembered that he had never expected to see her again, had satisfied himself with her memory. Between them hovered an unofficial breakup.
"Hey." He said finally, lamely.
"I was wondering if you could introduce me to Cid at your Inauguration." She said, looking studiously at the floor. The dog was nowhere in sight. He didn't bother to correct her assumption that he had passed the exam.
"Sure. You gonna try to get that contract?" he asked, remembering vaguely suggesting that she try to seek aid from Garden.
"Uh yeah. Maybe…" she began, but died off.
"Want to walk together?" he asked, trying to ease the unease between them.
"Sure."
She walked a little behind him, looking around at the strangeness of Garden. As they paused outside the doors to the quad, she looked finally at him, with love, with fear, with entreaty, with the effort of someone memorizing what they may never see again.
He leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, chastely.
"Save a dance for me. I'll go find Cid." He said, and went in ahead of her. When he finally located Cid, he looked around for Rinoa, saw her dancing with his worst enemy. He gritted his teeth, pointed her out to Cid, explained the situation. She saw them together over the shoulder of The Asshole, excused herself, came to speak with them. Seifer excused himself before she arrived, but she stopped him.
"I thought we were going to dance." She said petulantly, and he loved and hated her at the same time.
"Looks like your card is full." He said scathingly. There was silence for a moment, and then he stalked from the room.
4
One winter morning he was walking to detention. With him walked Raijin, who needed to go to the infirmary. It was on the way. Snow was falling in the courtyards, big white flakes, some of which blew into the halls and melted into puddles.
"It's freezing in this dump." Seifer complained to Raijin before he headed into detention.
"The Forest Owl Mission?" Trepe was saying into the phone in her disbelieving I-didn't – authorize-this voice. "You sent three rookie…yes I know it's Squall, but…"
Seifer froze, thinking all the while that he was about to strike out and none of them knew it. He had two lives; an open one, seen by all who wished to see it, full of conventional truth and conventional falsehood, exactly like the lives of his cronies and his enemies; and another life that went on in secret. And through some strange, perhaps accidental , combination of circumstances, everything that meant something to him, everything about which he felt essentially and did not deceive himself, was going on concealed from others; while all that was false, the shell in which he hid to cover the truth, all that went on in the open. The personal life of every individual is based on secrecy.
He sure as hell wasn't keeping this a secret.
Having made his decision, Seifer jerked the phone out of Trepe's hand and hung it up. Her mouth and eyes were round o's of shock.
"They're going to kidnap the President of Galbadia, and all you send are three rookie SeeD?" he bellowed in her face.
"I…I didn't…" Trepe began, adjusting those glasses that drove her little fan club with the schoolteacher fetish batty.
"I'm going to Timber!" Seifer bellowed. Trepe's face was pale, unsmiling, exhausted. She seemed unable to speak, unable to move.
He dragged her by the neck to the garage, holding her hostage with the gun part of his gunblade. There, he stole a car and forced her to drive, the gunblade between them as a silent reminder of just who was in charge.
"How the fuck am I supposed to drive with that thing shoved in my face?" she snarled. It was the first time she had sworn in his presence, and he found himself amused.
"Figure it out" he challenged.
She did.
He used her money to buy the train ticket. He figured she owed him for being a shitty instructor. She didn't say anything the entire train ride, just looked ready to be sick. He bolted from the cabin the minute the train began slowing, jumping off as soon as he could land on the platform. A conductor yelled at him as he ran off toward the T.V. Station.
Once there, he had it all for a brief shining moment, and then he lost it, thanks to the Chicken Wuss. Fucker.
He fled into the arms of a wasteland. A beautiful, decadent, inviting desolation that would numb his mind for him, help him forget that he was finished as a SeeD and finished as a man.
He looked through the mist at Rinoa; it seemed to him that Fate itself had meant them for each other, and he could not understand now why he was choosing the Sorceress, and she Squall, because he could see that in her eyes, see that she already was drawn to him. As he looked at her, he felt that they forgave each other for everything they were ashamed of in the past, they forgave everything in the present, and felt that this love of theirs had altered them both.
Fortunately in moments of sadness he had soothed himself with whatever logical arguments came into his head, but now he no longer cared for logic; he felt profound emotion, he wanted to be part of this magic.
"Give it up now, my darling." Edea hissed in his ear. "You've had your time with her. Let us go now; we'll talk of many things."
And he could see what she would speak to him of; death and glory, genocide, slaughter, and the gaining of something unimaginable. Images of destruction, blood flowing over his hands and his hands in the raven hair of another, an older witch, but one with perhaps a weaker spell than the one the crying girl kneeling before him had cast.
How could they free themselves from these intolerable fetters?
And it seemed as though in a little while the solution might be found, and then a new and glorious life would begin; and it was clear to all of them that the end was still far off, and that what was to be most complicated and difficult for them was just beginning.