((Ok...maybe it will show what's next XD I just.. couldn't stand Laguna just...sitting there waiting for his turn to show...I am also waiting for little Cosette to grow up (Take a wild guess who she will be) and I will be hated by Quistis fans. Oh, I will be killed. Oh well. Bittersweet endings always get to me. And I know...Caraway is probably not the worst person in the world...and Javert knew nothing of Fantine in the beginning...but I needed to connect it with FF...so bear with me...and give me mercy from your malice...hides. R&R please, Or just wild guesses on who will be who (if you know Les Mis). Bonus points for those who guess right :) I would like to give congrats to Victor Hugo for writing this book and for the creators of Final Fantasy 8 for making...FF8...))

The quantity of civilization is measured by the quality of imagination.

-Victor Hugo, Les Miserables

She laughed with them, giggled at the jokes with a laugh that tore at his heart and mended it back together. It was a pity he cared less on how other felt. He watched as she listened to the others but stayed silent, as if she knew not what they were talking about but was still interested no matter what. She wasn't into politics, parties that much even if she loved singing in front of others (and he agreed, she /did/ have a good voice), and she hated arguments. She had the patience of a cat and couldn't, or just wouldn't, get angry enough to yell at anyone. She never did, which helped differ herself from the other two ladies who sat with her in a more formal gown and wore clothes too tight which put much praise on their chest (and he would shamelessly take glances) but probably hurt all night as they tried to go to sleep and failed. The reason why the only trashy part on them was the make-up on their face. She didn't wear make-up, but she looked better than they would ever be without it. To them, he was known as 'Felix', ironic in a way. She believed it, even if the other girls looked at him with disbelief and seemed to know who he was. 'A man who's mother was probably raped while in jail which gave birth to him.' They seemed to know the truth and it bothered him but he would brush it off. They had no idea how to find out and nor would they ever.

She wore her original but beautiful long, flowing and shining red gown that matched with her dark, midnight colored hair and seemed to be the sky itself when the wind blew and caught it just right. Against the pale yet healthy skin, her red lips where even deeper with lipstick, probably something those trashy women convinced onto her. That was one thing about her, peer-pressure was he weak point. Her brown eyes held so much thought, so much intelligence that he couldn't tell if she was given the brains by the Gods and the voice from the mermaids or if she was a straight A student and went to lessons. He leaned more with the first theory but never voiced it out loud. Or had he while he was as drunk as he was now, arguing with his friends about politics and life?

"Felix means happy. Take a look at me ladies. Do I seem like one to be in happiness all the time?" He said finally, breaking his gaze from her. "It seems like we should have named you 'Serio'. You are as boring as a stick when we go anywhere and I think our young friend would agree with us when we say in bed, too." The first of the ladies commented, taking out her fan and flapping it a few times to give her breath as she felt the gown tightening more around her stomach. He frowned as he heard the slight giggles from his comrades, maturity level the same as a toddlers."Bah, we are drunk with wine and our words mean little. This, though, is something that means something." he began, making his way around the table that they were drinking at and had finished their meals at. The place they dined at was a small enough restaurant, two stories but small all the same. "We, me and my fellow friends and brothers," The men nodded, not paying much attention as they tried to get themselves to stand up in their drunken stage. "have a present for you. But, you must wait until the lamps have been lit and the sun is down. If not, it will be ruined." The girls gave a curious look, especially her which would have tore at him if he was sober but, luckily, he wasn't. Was what he was doing something he though of in a sober state? For a fact, yes. "Wherever will you be going?" The third girl asked, holding no beauty nor brains but, from what he hear from a little birdy, she was wonderful somewhere else. "That, my dear, will be explained in the gift." The second man said, following his comrade down the stairwell that was decorated like an outhouse.

"My ladies, receive the gift with love. The servant boy here will deliver it in due time to make sure it doesn't open any sooner." he said, bowing deeply and glancing at her one last time as he straightened. He saw her give him a curious yet loving look, she trusted him which was good in a way. She wouldn't question any further and would obey like a dog. He left down the stairs, without looking back. When they left out of the entrance the girls looked over the gated edge of the roof at the three men, in drunken states, sway left and right singing songs and avoiding carts that were drawn by crazed looking horses ready to run them over. They seemed so happy, so they denied any ill gifts that may be given. The two girls chatted with each other happily, leaving the first out of the conversation without even a thought. They had no interest for her, being naive and foolish in their thoughts. She was young, they thought, and not mature enough to know enough about the real world.

She though all the while, watching as their paid taxi carriage ran off with them in it, soon to be snoring away. She looked down the road and thought to herself, or more day-dreamed. She was a dreamer and a singer. At times, as she watch him laying there asleep in their inn room, she would sing her songs with such a grace that she knew he was listening but not admitting. She always imagined herself in that fairy-tale, that princess with a knight in shining armor and nothing would ever happen to them. The possibility was slim, but she didn't know. Being so well pampered in her life, she ignored it. Her thoughts went all through the evening, she didn't even notice when the boy came and handed a note until one of the girls ( she thought it was the cow) almost screamed in excitement and nearly yelled at the other to hurry up and open it, scaring the boy with her language making her seem like a sailor.

"What is it?" The girl repeated, annoying everything out of the second girl.

"Shut up and I will read it!" she snapped, opening up the letter and holding it to a lamp.

"My dear ladies,

We are terribly sorry for such a rude leave, but we have to admit that may be the last leave we give you. We are required to finish our college courses and become married to educated and sophisticated (the word was scratched out many times) so we shall take our leave from you. It was a lovely summer to be beside you, but we now need to take our leave. This is our present and surprise to you, and may your lives go as pleasant as ours will be (The second interrupted and commented,"Bah, as pleasant as theirs? They will probably be killed within a year by drinking to much wine and cursing the government.")

Yours truly,

Caraway, Mitchel, Kamel.

The second and third lady laughed, enjoying the joke."My, I have clearly wasted my time with them. I thought we would at least get some type of coin for our company. Anyways, it is getting late and I would hate to be mixed with a lady of the night from some costumer that only comes at that time." The third nodded and they went on their way, waving good-bye to their friend no more who sat with a smile on her face but sadness in her eyes. He did have an ill gift for them. She may had not taken it so hard if she didn't have a surprise for him. Did she call it love that she had for him? Yes, and what she now carried that all women seemed to carry at some point in their life was now growing inside her, and she had already picked a name for it. A tear slipped but that was all, just one. She stood and walked out, knowing nothing now of what was to happen but hoping nothing would totally go wrong.

He brought the shovel down, sweat coming from his forehead and stinging his eyes but he brushed them away quickly and went back to work. Next to him worked a very angry maid who tore viciously at the weeds that begged for mercy.

"Oh! What shall we eat with now? Our silver is gone!" she said with an angry voice, tearing even more at the defenseless flora.

"We shall eat with wooden spoons."He answered calmly, putting the shovel down and glancing at how the small yard was doing.

"But we will get splinters! I understand living in this run down of a house but I will NOT stand for the bishop to eat out of such an utensil."she argued, standing up herself.

"Then what about some made of iron? I am sure the smithy can do such a thing for us. I do believe we have good credit."

"It is not about credit! Anyways, iron leaves a taste that I cannot describe that makes the food taste horrible."

He shook his head but looked up as three men walked into the yard, one of them seeming oddly familiar.

"Well, look what we have here, Pops."the first one said, being one of the military guards there. He thrust the man in the middle forward who looked down and shuffled his feet like a misbehaved child caught with what he did wrong.

"Says you gave this to him my good sah, some crud of a story I says and he competes against us as we be sayin's,'Then what's wrong with givin' ol' Pops a visit?' and he is a gettin' all silent like." the second said, grammer impaired.

The man in the middle was silent, giving no word nor looking at the man that now stood before him thinking of what to say next. The maid, though, busied herself with getting up and pointing her dirty finger at him.

"That's him! That's the bloody so-" she was interrupted by the bishop who quickly said," -soul who received these presents." The maid looked at the bishop in disgust but he paid her no mind. "I gave it to him earlier this morning when he said he had to go, this bump on my head is simple when I mishandled that tools I have here." He moved his hand as if spreading butter on a large piece of bread as he showed them all the tools. "It is nothing really, so you may go."

"Beggin' your pardon, Pops, but I am thinkin'-"

"And thinking is good. I suggest you do more of it since this man is clearly innocent. Now remove yourself from my grounds since there are no other guards to escort you and I will personally show this kind man out myself."

The guards looked surprised, but then to hide their pride, they left muttering to one another. the bishop looked at Laguna with a look of seriousness at first, but then a smile broke his features. Loire didn't see this, in the discussion he took out the silver and was fiddling with it, touching the designs and examining it like it was a work of art that would break if he mishandled it. He finally looked up at the Bishop and handed him the silver.

"I acted like a fool, forgetting where I was and that I am no longer a criminal...You should have let them take me for my soul is no longer with me..."

"You are right. Your soul is in good hands now, my friend." The bishop put a hand on Laguna's shoulder and waited until he looked up.

"Take this silver and start a new life. Become a man that people will look up to for you will walk in the light. You have turned you heart into stone, you believed for in taking an eye for an eye, but no more." He shook his head when Laguna was to open his mouth in protest and put the silver back in his pack. "It is yours now. Do you wish to say you need more?"

The maid stood up and rushed towards them. "No! No, more! I can live without the silver if it will indeed turn this man into good," She muttered some other things that the Bishop knew was nothing near compliments, "But any more silver and we will have to spend years on at least getting more spoons with your generous donations!" She threw up her hands and sat down. "Now I know why they said to go with another bishop. They have more sense with money..."

"Look, I-"

"Take it! Go, to the next town, to the next country, who cares!" The bishop took the yellow slip from Laguna and ripped it up. "Is that was is keeping you? Go! Live your life well and you will never be caught!"

Time stood still for a moment, the wind rustled the leaves on the branches and the strands of hair that Loire had held in a loose pony-tail. It was like a staring contest between him and the bishop until Laguna whispered some things and left, hurrying from the place with his pack slung over his shoulder. The bishop shook his head and helped the maid up and continued his work.

"You sure that was the right thing to do?" she asked, pulling the weeds with a more delicate nature and less anger. He didn't answer for a while but shrugged and continued the work. "I have been questioned that since I first started."