Restoring the Lion's Heart

Disclaimer: All characters are property of Square-Enix. I own nothing! I also do not own the little image thing used for the story. See below for source.

Image Source: member_ ?mode=medium&illust_id=3828173

Summary: Squall is stuck in an enchanted coma and it's up to his companions, Bartz and Zidane, to get him out! But how will they cope when they have to travel through the time of Final Fantasy VIII in order to save Squall's life? A 589 centric story.

Author's Note: Heya! This entire story was actually part of a different project I'm working on, but in the end I brought it here because as I was scripting the whole thing it became clear to me that this could work well as a standalone project. So I decided to turn this into a multichapter story, despite me not even being a writer! Hope I do well.

Anyway as mentioned in the description this will essentially be a sort of crazy version of Final Fantasy 8 with Bartz and Zidane, so anyone who hasn't played the game and plans to I seriously advice you to turn away now, provided you don't mind being spoiled.

I'm also looking for a beta, so anyone interested can leave me a note. Thanks, and hope you enjoy!

Warnings:

+ Bartz
+ Zidane
+ Stupidity
+ AU-ish and slight Canon Distortion (that is to say I've taken some liberties with the elements from Final Fantasy 8)
+ Boys Love (Squall/Bartz primarily and a few later on)
+ FF8 spoilers
+ Dissidia spoilers
+ Slight OOC-ness
+ Mild swearing

Chapter 1

It had been almost two years since Squall's arrival here.

With Bartz. And Zidane.

Right after the defeat of Chaos, when they were meant to be teleported back to their respective worlds, he was instead teleported here – a calm and peaceful little city unfamiliar to him at the time.

Teleported along with Bartz and Zidane.

Two years of living a casual lifestyle. Two years of no monsters, no magic, no clashing of swords, no war (well, this was not including the occasional banter among his mates which sometimes did turn out wild) – two years of being away from everything he was brought up to be and do.

Yes, he was feeling rather nostalgic.

At moments like these he questioned why this happened, why he was never returned to his original home. Were all his other comrades from the 13th cycle* transferred back to their worlds? Had he done something wrong to end up in this place? Was he never going to return back to the world he grew up in, and saved? Was it actually his destiny to meet these two peculiar boys and instead stay eternally with them…?

The truth was while there was no way of knowing the answers to his internal questions, the more he thought about it the more he realized it...wasn't that big of a deal anymore. And for it to be so he had come a really long way: when he first arrived in this chic little town and it was clear to him that this was not his home and that there must have been an error, the initial feat he had to deal with was the prospect of never returning back to where he thought he belonged. Leaving behind his life, his companions, his love...without even getting to say goodbye. He was yet again thrust into the hands of fate, having his route being greatly meddled with only to then be tossed back to reality to deal with the mess all over again.

Squall was just not accustomed to change. He didn't take to being forced into sudden scenarios without his consent very well. He preferred familiarity, something he knew he could control, could predict and take charge of. Change on the other hand was new, was open, and was entirely unpredictable. But beneath all that froth, the truth was that his unwillingness and apprehension for doing anything other than the ordinary all boiled down to him simply being scared. Yes, he was scared – terrified even. With change's boundless realms and endless possibilities, anything could happen. Anything could go wrong. The uncertainty of it all was what always put Squall at unease.

However, what he didn't realize then (and has now) was that there was nothing for him to be scared of, because he wasn't alone. He wasn't alone to make the errors, he wasn't alone to pick up the pieces, he wasn't alone to dictate his life, he wasn't alone in dealing with the changes and life style adjustments. For he had Bartz and Zidane.

He could've ended up with any of the Cosmos warriors from the 13th cycle but he didn't. He found himself with the only two people he somehow grew to deeply care for during their battle against Chaos. And them living together for the past two years had really put his feelings for them into perspective, and solidified their ever strong bond.

It was after all, thanks to them that he learned how to live with the drastic changes. It was thanks to them that he got to terms with it and adapt. It was thanks to them that he even grew to...genuinely enjoy it. And why wouldn't he, for the first time in his entire life he got to taste the bittersweet delight that was known as freedom. Bartz in particular – who was the kind of guy that took everything in stride and seemed to care the least (if at all) about living an entirely new world – helped him greatly to accept the changes for what they were worth and make the best of it. And Squall did, he truly did.

He remembered Bartz talking about his carefree adventures when they were still on their quest to defeat Chaos, about how he would just aimlessly wander wherever the wind carried him without a care in the world (literally). He remembered at the time feeling a little envious, thinking that he'd never be able to experience the life Bartz had.

"So basically you're like some sort of caged bird? Well we gotta change that then. Someday, I promise I'll kidnap you from your world and we'll gallop around aimlessly for a month over at mine." Bartz declared rather decidedly.

Squall waited a bit with shifty eyes, waited for a cue to announce the whole thing was a gag. When he realized that Bartz was looking as sincere as he could get… "That's impossible and you know it."

"Nothing's impossible with a little determination!"

"Hm, indeed." Squall mused softly to himself. He was currently seated on his lonesome by the counter of a rather scarce-looking bar for the nightly hours. With an elbow propped up on the table, his hand supporting his chin, he let his free one lazily move in circular motions as a lone finger swirled over the circular brim of his half-filled glass. He stared down at his drink, still lost in his thoughts, to the point that he wasn't even aware of the small smile that was currently settled on his dazed face.

"Yoohoo, Squall! You still here?"

That startled Squall out of his insightful reverie. The deep-thinker shifted his head to face the intruder, who he had recognized to be Bartz by way of the voice. Speak of the Devil. Was he here the whole time? He couldn't remember talking to him before.

"Must've zoned out."

"So long as you're not drunk or high! I don't really want to have to deal with that right now."

Squall couldn't help but make an incredulous face at that comment. "Wha- come off it, I've never been drunk before and that's not about to change."

"Well as much as I'd love to tease you about it and actually get you drunk, I have a question: can I see your ring?"

That's...random, thought Squall. He cocked his eyebrow at that and gave the mime a questioning glance.

But Bartz only blinked those amber eyes of his in response, in an almost childlike manner. Honestly he didn't really believe the mime was three years older than him, it was just not possible given the way he acted.

Bartz had told many a tale of his travels across his world, and of what Squall could remember it sounded like he'd really seen it all. And yet he still retained a youthful, almost innocent aura around him which, to be honest, sort of fascinated Squall. How he managed to retain these traits typically exhibited by those untainted by the reality of the cruel world, head on full force and come out of with those same qualities unscathed, was just beyond him. Maybe his head really was empty?

"Won't do anything stupid, I just want to have a clear look at it. Always thought it seemed pretty cool. It...shimmers and stuff. It's like it's calling out to me."

A faint clank resounded on the polished hard table.

"What? You're actually giving it to me?"

"Just remember to hand it back. In one piece."

"Sure thing boss!"

Bartz took the ring and happily held it up to get a better glance at the jewelry. He gleefully admired it as Squall watched him, somewhat boredly.

"Oh hey, there's a lion head on it! Didn't notice it before, that's kinda neat," having discovered the carefully crafted little feline head, the enthusiastic mime poked at it curiously.

It wasn't until a moment later that Squall started to heave himself from his stool, calling it a day. "I'm tired, I'll be heading out to the flat."

"Wait, don't you want your ring back?"

Squall, already heading for the door, turned to look at Bartz for the last time. There was a very faint but tender smile only just slightly creeping at the corners of his lips, completely unnoticeable to the untrained eye. "Like I said: remember to give it back."

Then he was out of the bar.

o-o-o-o

"Hey Zidane, look what I got!" Fresh out of the bar (but not too far off) and into the cool night, Bartz came charging down towards Zidane who was busy…what was he doing exactly? Why did he have what looked like a deflated long pink balloon and why was he -

"Squall's ring!" Zidane left his mess to head towards Bartz, who was initially waving the shiny metal in the air as he came charging down until he stopped to questioningly calculate what it was his blond friend was trying to do.

Either way. He decided it wasn't really important right now. He had better plans! "You know what we should do with it? See who can shove it up the furthest in their nose."

"If you're good for one thing, Bartz, it's ingeniously retarded ideas. I love it."

"Hurry your asses guys, or we'll miss free breakfast!"

Morning dawned in already, spilling out the sun's rays into the little flat the boys called home to give them their cue to rise. Zidane, who was already up, was busy half struggling to fit his pants on while hopping towards his comrade Squall. "What the hell's he still doing in bed?"

Bartz too was busy getting changed. He had just finished slipping on his tank top when he managed to utter out, "That's strange, Squall doesn't normally sleep in." He ran his hands through his curly brown locks to help comb it into place.

The blonde, who was still fumbling with his pants what with his many belts getting in the way, eyed Squall skeptically. "Maybe it's his new Beauty Sleep hour."

At that Bartz had to stop what he was doing. "His what?"

"I swear he does that."

...Okay. The mime had always suspected Squall was a little too meticulous with the way he looked, but to the point of creating a beauty sleep routine? It was probably Zidane's attempt at a joke, but Bartz found it more hilarious to pretend that it was indeed true. "Well, the more you know!"

"Right well I'mma head out already, catch you in the cafe."

"Sure thing."

So with that Zidane left the flat. The mime continued his quest to frantically deck himself up - seriously, what was it with him and always tossing his clothes at every imaginable corner of their home? It was always such a struggle to find his belongings each morning.

There was one thing, however, that Bartz always did keep in the same spot: his gloves. He distinctly remembered this time because when he got back last night Squall was already fast asleep, so he had placed the ring together with his gloves on the night table, making note to give it back to Squall first thing in the morning.

So when he got to the table and found his gloves exactly in the angle they were left, he was surprised to notice that the ring was completely absent. Huh?, he thought. I could've sworn I left Squall's ring with my gloves."

Bartz began to ponder if he really did slip it elsewhere. But no memory came to mind. Zidane couldn't have taken it. Well, yes he could've but why would he? They had played out that nose-diving game until it almost got stuck in Zidane's nose. Bartz inwardly giggled at the memory of trying to scoop the ring out with a twig, and Zidane complaining that it was touching his brain. Yeah, he was sure Zidane probably wouldn't even want to see that ring again.

"Hey Squall did you take the ring back? I don't have it!"

He was answered with the ambient music of the everyday city life. Squall was supposedly still fast asleep.

"Squall! You really serious about your beauty naps? You never sleep in like this, even on a day off."

Greeted with further silence.

"...Squall?"

Bartz went to shake him. Nothing. He shook again but with a bit more vigor. Nothing still. And again, and again...

...and again.

"Squall...? Seriously, this isn't funny."

Then it finally hit him.

"...Oh my - Zidane! Zidane get back here!"

And with that, Bartz raced out in a frenzy to go fetch Zidane.

In a state of alarm at Bartz's bold 'Squall is dead!' cries of panic , it only took a few moments later for our duo to fumble back into the room, right by their supposedly unconscious comrade's bed. Zidane was the first to wave his hand over his face, then later down on his chest.

"Is he dead?" Bartz warily asked.

"But he's still breathing," Zidane furthered his inspection by prodding and poking him in the sides. "Seriously Squall get up, it's not funny."

"…Maybe he pricked his finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel?"

What? Is he trying to be funny? the thief blinked slowly in confusion, unsure of his comrade was being serious.

"Or ate a poisoned apple?"

"..."

"Cursed to eternal sleep!"

"Alright, so why don't you free him of the spell." Zidane threw back.

The mime blinked, but looked a bit uneasy. A cute hue of pink was threatening to tint his cheeks. "Well uh… ... ...it wouldn't work anyway, would it? I mean he did once say he had a girl. He already has a true love."

"Doesn't hurt to try. I could always do with the blackmail material."

"…I'll be in the blackmail material."

"Exactly."

"It seems I'm already too late…"

That was an unfamiliar voice.

"Did you…say something?" Zidane tentatively whispered to Bartz. But the boy shook his head.

A small moment passed by as the boys threw back stares at each other, frozen in place. It was only later when they dared to slowly turn their heads around that they noticed a fourth presence in the room: a tall cloaked figure. It stood there, immobile, their face completely hooded. Had it not been for the rather effeminate voice, you couldn't make out the gender. You could however, make out the trace of their mouth.

Bartz was the first to speak again. "…There's a robed thing standing in the middle of our flat…"

"I am sorry to intrude, Sir Tribal and Sir Klauser." It was hard to notice, but the cloaked being bowed their head in (presumingly) apology. "My name is Noelle, I am a Dimension Shifting Sorceress."

When the boys gave the newly dubbed Noelle nothing but their questioning faces, she carried on. "I come in plea for you to help Sir Leonhart and to put him back in the Time Cycle." There was a slight pause. For a moment, the boys could've sworn the robed figure was scolding, giving the vague impression she was genuinely upset. "Ultimecia is persistent as always; she managed to use her remaining forces before her death in the 13th cycle* to act against Squall and curse him. It would seem that the curse has finally been triggered, and he has fallen to eternal sleep. I fear this will pose a treat to all remaining Sorceresses, and all those living in the dimension she's currently in."

"HA! I was right! Cursed to eternal sleep!" Probably the least appropriate moment to start cheering about anything, but the mime did it anyway, if just because he usually acted before he bothered to think.

"Good guessing Prince Charming. Your virgin reward is still waiting to wake the hell up."

Bartz merely frowned at Zidane, but settled down.

The blond ignored his pouting friend to get back to what was otherwise seemingly more important matters. "I don't understand though; if you're a sorceress, why can't you take Ultimecia out yourself?"

"I am merely a Dimension Shifting Sorceress, that is to say, I can only transfer myself and others willing to other dimensions. I otherwise cannot fend for myself. Ultimecia on the other hand, is gifted with much greater powers that seem unlimited; she could easily take me over and even steal my power as opposed to me trying to banish her to another dimension. I could never stand up to her."

"Wow. That sucks." Zidane stated flatly.

"As fate would have it, Squall is the one destined to take out Ultimecia, which is why it is important for me and the sake of my dimension that we put him back in the time cycle. I'd imagine it's important for you to have your friend back, too."

At this point Bartz was screwing his facial features into a rather quizzical expression, seemingly confused about something. "I'm probably not going to get it anyway, but what is this time cycle dimension thing you keep bringing up?"

Noelle chuckled a bit. "Ah, I apologize. It must all sound rather confusing and convoluted to those who are unfamiliar with the concept. Well, basically a dimension is a different world, or a different universe if you will. For example, this city here is one dimension, your original worlds would be two separate other dimensions. The conflict you fought in the 13th cycle, too, was in another dimension."

Bartz started again, expression unchanged. "Wait you...you know all about that?"

Noelle ignored the questioning remark and carried on. "Now a Time Cycle, is a set of different periods of times in each individual dimension. They are the Past, the Present and the Future. What Ultimecia has ultimately done is created her own personal loop; everytime Squall destroys her in the future, she travels back into the Past, passing on her powers onto the same victim before dying in order to repeat her plans again. But so long as Squall grows up to eliminate Ultimecia, the cycle will repeat over and over, hindering Ultimecia from ever accomplishing her goals. So can you imagine what would happen if all the Squalls from the time cycle - in that dimension - were to disappear completely?"

"...There'd be no one to stop Ultimecia, and she'll get away with whatever her plans are." finished Zidane.

"Precisely."

"Wait but, if Squall was here, didn't that mess with the whole time thing to begin with?"

"No it did not. The Squall you know is from the future tense, from after he defeated Ultimecia. His doing and wherabouts does not affect the other Squalls in the other time cycles. This enchantment Ultimecia has thrust upon Squall however, specifically affects all the Squalls from each time and lays them all dormant, since in a sense they are all connected."

It was starting to make more sense to Bartz, but there was still one fundamental unanswered question. "So how do we go about getting him back?"

"His Griever Ring. That's what you need to obtain. That's what was enchanted - in that ring contains his 'soul', if you will. Without it on him, he essentially loses his soul. You need to find the ring and bring it back to its rightful host - in this case, the Squall in this very room."

"Jee well that sounds simple enough. You know where the ring is right?" the thief turned to look at Bartz, remembering that they had actually borrowed it from him last night.

"But that's the thing...it's not there. I left it on the night table and thought Squall took it, but it's not with him either. Ultimecia must've somehow nipped it.

"Correct. I assume its disappearance was part of the enchantment. That said, I am unaware of the exact whereabouts of the ring myself but I can feel its presence. I can definitely transfer you Sirs to the dimension in which it's located, but I cannot guarantee an exact landing on where it is exactly, but it shouldn't be too drastic. I'll try to get you both as near to the presence of the ring as possible. I trust you two are competent fighters and partners, so I'm not really worried." The cloaked figure, yet again, bowed her head slightly apologetically. "I apologize to impose and thrust this upon you so suddenly..."

"Don't worry lady!" chipped Bartz, "We need our Squally back just as much as destiny needs him to beat the crap out of Ultimecia!"

"So I take it you'll help out?"

"Of course," Zidane carried on. "He's one of us, and we all gotta watch each others back - ain't that right?"

Bartz nodded back.

"Wonderful, I am eternally grateful." Her lips curled into a smile. "I will leave you Sirs to prepare for leave. Let me know when you're ready by simply calling out my name, I will then inform you of final details before finally sending you off. I'll be around."

And with that, the robed figure slowly dissolved away into thin air.

It was a little overwhelming to take in but when the whole situation eventually dawned onto them it was stirring some serious excitement. Excitement they hadn't felt in years. For the first time in those said two years, the boys would be going off on another heroic adventure, adrenaline pumped up and all - but this time, to save their close friend. Zidane, who was the first to sit up from the bed mischievous grin in-tow, began cracking his knuckles in a knowing, challenging way. "Looks like this will be a mission with just you and me Bartz!"

Bartz smiled at Zidane, but turned to look back at the ever sleeping Squall. He actually looked peaceful...there was a complete absence of creases on his forehead, and his face was relaxed from his usual scowl. "It's been ages since we've done something like this - hope you're not rusty as hell."

"I could say the same for you man." laughed Zidane.

To Be Continued...

*13th cycle: term used to refer to the events that happened in Dissidia Final Fantasy.