Title: Howl, the Moon! (2/24)
Characters: Lightning, Sazh, Jihl, Snow, Serah, Fang, Nora (in order of appearance).
Pairings: Snow/Serah, pre-Fang/Lightning
Rating: T/PG (mild language, mild violence)
Word Count: 6,706
Spoiler Warning: Spoilers for FFXIII (plot parallels, characterization), spoilers for FFIV/the After Years
General Warnings: None this chapter.
Summary: The Red Wings leave Baron, and things have only gotten more complicated for Lightning with Snow's proposal to Serah. Either way, they've got a job to do, and Lightning isn't going to let anything – not Snow, and not Fang, either – get in her way.
Notes: Hooray alliteration. As for continuation, I'm convinced! I was going to have it finished at the end of the current Arc (five chapters) but it did feel kinda like an asspull with some of the characterization and plot points. I mean, I don't want to deus ex machina things here, without properly backing it up. Light vs. Darkness and the Zeromus connection all needed a bit more time to be dealt with. Besides, Snow's character arc is becoming quite interesting to me.
Another note, of course I'm taking a few liberties with FFIV's mythos and current world. It's been forty-seven years since Cecil's adventure, thirty since Ceodore's. Some things will have changed. Other things are merely my attempts at world building and making sense of the world of FFIV (prime example – the Dark Knights).
The Raging Red Horde
Lightning lowered the binoculars from her eyes, shielding her face to protect them from the rays of the rising sun. Her head was pounding with every creak of wood in the wind, every groan from the engines thrumming beneath the Bodhum's deck and when the airborne seagulls screeched, she just wanted to ram Zanmato through her brain and end it all. She'd known she'd regret that shots game Fang had roped her into, especially with such an early rise for their mission the next day.
Too late for regrets, now.
Clearing her throat uncomfortably, she handed the binoculars back to Sazh, the Bodhum's main navigator. He raised an eyebrow, and he seemed to be waiting for her assessment of the wind currents and the flight crew's mission preparations. Great, yet another evaluation she'd have to fabricate.
"Everything seems in order, navigator," Lightning told him stiffly, still loathe to admit her deficiency in the area. First Lieutenant of the Red Wings, and she could barely read an airchart? Let alone analyze the air for windcurrents, use the stars for directions… Snow would have killed himself laughing, if she hadn't murdered him first. She had been promoted for her tactics and battle prowess, not for her poor navigation skills.
"As you say, First Lieutenant," Sazh agreed mildly, hiding a small smile behind his hand. "I'll just tell the crew that my new orders will come from you, then, ma'am?"
Lightning inclined her head sharply, grateful that her helm's visor obscured her obvious relief. At least today it was Sazh, who seemed on-board with this whole charade, and not somebody like Rosch, who could be as suspicious as an Elban ninja when the mood struck him.
"How long until the supplies are all loaded?" Lightning asked, more than willing to steer his attention away from the glaring flaws in her navigation abilities.
"Fine. Nearly done with the food, just got that cartload of weaponry to go. But before you relax, there's something else. Apparently someone in the clerk's office kicked up a great fuss about your request for the maelstrom cannons, so you might wanna go check that out."
"Which clerk was it?" Her teeth were gritted, and she knew that a number of the Red Wings wingmen were now looking over at her. Lightning cursed, snapping her visor up to scan the decks, as if the offending clerk would have been in easy striking distance.
With an effort, she doused the dark flames that had sprung up around her clenched fist. No point wasting a good attack on a clerk.
Sazh just laughed at her demand, bringing his wrinkled aircharts back up to his face sharply. "Which one is it usually? She's down by the Eden, if you're wanting to be picking bones."
That meddling Nabaat woman, then. Dysley's little minion. Lightning scowled, turning sharply away from where Sazh was running through the take-off preparations. Once, Lightning would have been fine with. Twice, it began to get annoying.
But to have some pencil-pushing clerk questioning Lightning's ability to plan and keep her troops well supplied, every single time… it was beginning to wear thin, no matter how close Nabaat was with the Dragoon Commander. Lightning vaulted off the edge of the Bodhum's deck, landing in a heavy crouch on the wooden airship dock, and then straightened. A few of the civilian workers, loading the supplies, scattered as they saw her and backing away hastily when she passed by them.
Must have been all that killing intent that she was exuding. Tch. That always made the general population nervous.
Just as Sazh had told her, Lightning found the belligerent clerk at the center of a whirlwind of activity over at the Eden airship, ordering Red Wings men and servants around as if she were the Lord Captain herself. Lightning's scowl darkened as she approached.
Jihl Nabaat had always been one to toe the lie between helpful and interfering, and answered to Galenth Dysley. The Dragoon Commander was someone that Lightning respected, and Jihl was a vital part of his operations – but after last night's disaster with Snow and Serah and that dragoon, Lightning was completely out of patience for Jihl's little mind-games. Jihl had just enough time to look at Lightning, adjust her wire-rimmed spectacles with one well-manicured hand, before Lightning snatched the supplies list from her.
Jihl didn't even blink, merely smiled.
"How could I have guessed. Jihl Nabaat." Lightning struggled to keep her voice even, as she rounded on the clerk.
The manservant, the one that Jihl had been ordering about, took one look at Lightning and fled, but that cold smile of Jihl's never wavered. Was this woman completely unflappable? It was probably why Dysley held her in high regard. Regardless, Lightning had to sort this ridiculous red tape out. She couldn't trust Snow to handle it – he'd cave to Jihl's demands like a Damcyan bard.
"I heard you had some questions for me, in regards to this supply list. Though I'm not sure why you're wasting my time."
Jihl's green eyes flashed down to the crumpled list in Lightning's gauntleted hand.
"Inefficient planning is the bane of any great commander, Lieutenant." Those green eyes flickered back up to Lightning's dark helm. "Surely Captain Highwind would have had you thoroughly instructed in that?"
The paper in Lightning's hand crunched as she tightened it into a fist. "I hardly find my requests unreasonable, Nabaat."
"A soldier never does." Jihl turned away from her, giving a Baron Castle servant another set of rapid orders.
"We have no intel on how big this monster horde is," Lightning said, resisting the urge to lash out at Nabaat, to wipe that smile off the woman's face once and for all. "I'd rather waste a few extra gil on bringing weapons we didn't need, rather than lose lives because we were underprepared."
"I'm afraid that it's my business to see things the other way, Lieutenant," Jihl told her as she caught the elbow of another lower-ranked clerk, leaning in to give him orders that Lightning couldn't catch over the bustling preparations that surrounded them.
"And yet Lord Captain Villiers and the King would certainly see it mine, Nabaat."
Enough is enough. Lightning spotted two of the more experienced Red Wings men loitering in the background. It couldn't have been just coincidence that brought them here, even if the two had been assigned to the Eden's squadron. Rygdea shot her a grin and a lazy wave, while Cid only shrugged.
"Vales! Raines!" Lightning smirked, as she waved for the two men's attention. "Inform the castle armoury to release the maelstrom cannons to the Red Wings, now that I've sorted the bureaucratic mess out."
Rygdea snapped Lightning a sharp salute, before dragging Raines off towards the castle's armouries. Lightning doubted that Mid Pollendina would give the two men issues, now that Jihl and her cronies weren't breathing down the back of his neck.
The thwarted clerk turned back to Lightning, her smile a touch frostier, her hands laced before her, but her voice was decidedly level when she spoke. "I suppose there was a reason why the late Kain Highwind and the King overlooked you for the position of Captain. I think I can see why."
As Lightning watched Jihl stride back up the narrow path towards the castle, she felt her anger spike again. Bringing up Highwind's death and Snow's promotion had been a low blow, one that had been calculated to throw Lightning off balance. That was right. She knew she had to relax, focus and get on with her job, because she sure as hell couldn't count on Snow to do his part.
And where the hell is he?
Pinching the bridge of her nose as her head began to pound again, Lightning scanned the crowd for her wayward Captain, reluctantly thinking on what she'd learned last night. She still hadn't decided what she was going to do about this absurd marriage proposal, and she hadn't had the chance to speak with Serah about it. Bahamut, she wasn't even supposed know about this whole thing yet.
It was the betrayal of her trust that burned the most, that Serah hadn't even seen fit to inform Lightning that she'd taken Snow – what on earth was Serah thinking, by marrying Snow? – as a lover. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the glimpse of a mottled blue coat, a black bandana, a gauntleted arm – before her Captain ducked behind a set of crates that were stacked tall.
Lightning's eyes followed him for a moment, as she debated chasing after him. She could show them that she knew and she certainly wasn't going to approve of this stupid, secretive relationship they had – before she cursed.
She had a job to do, and if Snow wasn't going to be around to help her, then so be it. Serah, Snow and this mess they'd gotten themselves into, were going to have to wait until they got back from the mission.
Snow caught Serah in a tight embrace as he reached her, stroking her strawberry blonde hair and taking in a deep breath of her unique scent. He'd miss this. He'd miss not sneaking into her chambers at night, being so careful not to tip his lieutenant off. He'd miss her quiet laughter, the way she explained political issues and history to him, her smiles and her touch and –
Her arms were around his neck then, and she caught his lips in a searing kiss.
As she broke away, Snow grinned. He had to admit it – he'd miss that, too.
He closed his arms about her reflexively, squeezing her warm body against him. Bahamut only knew what they'd find at Mount Ordeals, but the idea of never seeing Serah again didn't appeal to him. He supposed it was incentive enough to make it back alive.
"I love you," he told her quietly, leaning down to kiss her again, wishing that they could stay like that forever. "It'll be over before you know it, I'll tell Lightning, and then we get married. The sky's the limit for us, so we can hold on a little longer."
Serah leaned into his touch, holding his gauntleted had against her cheek, before kissing the palm. Though Snow couldn't feel the warmth of her lips, he smiled.
"Just come back to me in one piece, all right? My hero."
Snow laughed, but the title still felt a little strange. Hero. Something that Lightning sometimes used to mock him, that she used to remind him of just how far he had to go until he reached his dream. Bahamut, how the hell was he going to tell Lightning about all this?
But now, he knew his lieutenant would be looking for him, and it was time for the Red Wings to launch. Stooping to kiss his wife-to-be one last time, Snow heard the shrill whistle of the Bodhum's launching horn. Hurriedly straightening, Snow waved farewell to Serah as he sprinted for the Bodhum, his powerful legs letting him vault up the gangplank even as the airship began to lift off the ground.
Lightning was already aboard, and from the little of her face that he could see, she looked suitably disgusted by his tardiness. He smiled at that, and he turned his mind back to the crowd that had gathered to see the heroic Red Wings off. He waved to them, before turning to Sazh.
For just an instant, though he thought he saw Dysley and that Nabaat clerk in the crowd. Nah, couldn't have been. What would Dysley and Nabaat be doing, down here? The Dragoon Commander had already made it clear that he wanted no part of this mission.
Snow shook his head. There was no more time for doubt, so he'd just have to take it as it came.
Lightning remained motionless on the foredeck, as she watched Baron dwindle into a mere speck in the distance. Her mind worked as she watched her Captain begin the in-flight checks on equipment, soldiers and supplies.
The fact that Serah hadn't seen fit to see her off from Baron – and the fact that it was probably Snow's fault – wasn't making her feel any better. Serah used to always see her off, when it came to extended missions. Lately, though, things had changed, even if Lightning had been too busy to notice it at the time.
Lightning clenched her teeth, letting the wind lash at her. She supposed she knew why Serah was too busy to say goodbye, now.
The First Lieutenant groaned silently as she watched a Dragoon leave their section of the Bodhum's deck, and quickly cross over to her. That over-confident swagger could only indicate one person, and Lightning was less than overjoyed to find that she'd snuck her way onto the Bodhum. She could have sworn she'd listed Fang Yun as being part of the Eden's defenses, she noted with a scowl as Fang stopped in front of her.
"So, fancy meeting you here." Fang's voice was teasing, as if she were at the Baron tavern again, instead addressing her commanding officer out of the blue. Tch. Dragoons. Dysley was getting sloppy with their discipline it, seemed. It hardly mattered – Lightning was more than willing to take a hard-line against loose cannons like Yun.
"Get back to your post, Dragoon, before I have you thrown in the hold," Lightning told the other woman, firmly, as another gust of wind howled across the Bodhum's deck. Around her, navigators and crewmen scrambled to adjust for the unexpected change in wind-patterns.
Fang just sighed, removing her helm with one gauntleted hand, while combing through her wild, dark hair with the other.
"Bahamut, I hate helmet hair," the woman lamented, before turning her pale, green eyes onto Lightning. "But as for you, I see we're feeling a bit snappy. Can't say I blame you, though. I know I have the hangover to end all hangovers."
"That was an order, Dragoon," Lightning said tonelessly, frowning at Fang from behind her dark helm. The hangover? That was not what the dismissal was about. It was about the chain of command, the fact that Lightning didn't want to deal with Fang Yun, and that letting the woman so close after last night's near-disaster would be a terrible idea.
Fang yawned and stretched, but those green eyes cut towards Lightning, challengingly. "And if I say you got no real authority over me, Sunshine?"
Lightning was silent, praying to Bahamut or the eidolons or even Golbez for the patience to deal with this incessant thorn in her side. She'd given Fang the chance to go quietly, and now Lightning had little choice but to throw her in the hold for the rest of the journey. It was a show of power, certainly, but something told Lightning that she needed to draw a firm line against this Fang Yun.
At least a day in the hold would put the arrogant dragoon in her place, for a while.
Fang's lips twitched into a smile as Lightning reached behind her for Zantetsuken and Zanmato, and she shrugged expressively. "Hey, I thought you were meant to be well-informed. I'm the idiot that Dysley roped into leading the Dragoon division, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just cut the lieutenant crap." That irritating grin widened. "Captain Villiers is the one in charge, not you."
So it was going to be like that, then. The woman was right, Lightning wouldn't be able to simply throw Fang in the hold like any old Wingman. For this mission, as Dysley's appointed representative, Fang was on Lightning's level. Tch. It was a pity.
"If that's all you've got to say, then leave already. I'm busy." Lightning turned away from Fang sharply, striding over to where Sazh had stored that day's aircharts and snapping it up to her face. She didn't want to even think about last night – that stupid drinking game or this Fang Yun, and she certainly didn't want to think about Snow and Serah being together.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Snow, who was looking uneasy as he threw the weight of his command around the airship. No. He was not the right man for Serah, and it would be a frozen day in the Feymarch when Lightning let him marry her sister.
Fang hadn't left her in peace, though, and merely raised her eyebrows.
"If you're trying to convince me you're busy, try holding the airchart up the right way," Fang said, her voice dry and amused as Lightning's grip reflexively tightened on the paper chart.
"What exactly do you want, Dragoon?" Lightning asked, grimacing and lowering the aircharts. She'd been busted, though she had to admit that she hadn't exactly been trying. She'd been too distracted, by Snow and Serah and how very unhappy she was to have learned about them.
"An interesting question, but I'll keep it simple, for now." Fang smiled, spreading her hands and leaning, backwards, against the railings of the Bodhum. "I watched you do the prep this morning, and I gotta say. You're acting like some skittish cadet going to her first skirmish."
Fang must have sensed her dark scowl, because she raised a placating hand.
"I kinda think you need to hear it, no matter how perfect and disciplined you seem to believe yourself to be. Get your head in the game, alright, Sunshine? All these men, and me, are gonna be depending on you to keep it cool, so buck up and swallow your meds already – or whatever it is that's ticked you off, anyhow."
Lightning exhaled sharply, turning her back on Fang. "That is First Lieutenant. And are you quite finished, Dragoon?"
Fang had a point, though. From that insufferable smile on her lips, she knew it, too.
Lightning's confrontation with Jihl must have set her on edge, even more so than normal. She knew she needed to stop stewing over what she'd learned about Snow and Serah, because dealing with that mess would have to wait until they were home again. She already knew this. Why did she keep dwelling on it? Her jaw tightened.
The dragoon chuckled at Lightning's abrupt dismissal, crossing her arms in front of her chest and leaning back precariously against the railings again. "I do happen to possess a name, you know. Fang Yun, squad leader of the Dragoon division on this here flight."
Fang offered Lightning one of her hands. Lightning ignored the Damcyan-style gesture, and restarted her in-flight preparations. When it was clear that Fang wasn't intending on moving, Lightning sighed.
"I already know who you are. And I told you. I'm busy," she told the Dragoon over her shoulder, making it very clear that their little 'conversation' ended right then and there.
Oddly, though, Fang was smiling as she left.
As Lightning rechecked the calibrations on the maelstrom cannons, she discretely kept an eye on the way Fang interacted with her dragoon squad. The way she ran them through their battle plans, contingencies and through a few wind-kata, Lightning had to admit it. Fang Yun was a thorough and demanding squad leader, and any who fell short of her expectations received the rough side of her tongue and a solid rap on their visors.
It was interesting, Lightning noted as she turned back to her calibrations, that someone so laid-back could be such a severe commander. Maybe the woman wasn't as huge an idiot as Lightning had imagined, after all.
They'd been gone from Baron almost three hours, and crystal-blue oceans stretched out for as far as Snow's eyes could see. A beautiful sight, he supposed, but it wasn't exactly interesting to look at for those three hours gone. The journey had never been easy for him to handle as a cadet, and now that he was the Captain, he still hated it with a passion. He'd always wanted to get to where they were going, and beat up the bad guys already.
Back before Highwind's death, Lightning had sometimes taken the time to entertain him. Conversations, reminding him of what tasks he'd been assigned, drills, even arm wrestling – they'd all been things they'd done in the name of boredom. But things had changed, sometime in the past year. She was far too busy to babysit him now, she'd claim, and then give him one of those very scornful frowns. Amazing how it could be so effective, even though he could only see the lower half of her face.
She'd sure gotten grimmer recently, that Snow was dead-certain of.
All the standard preparations had been completed and his squad leaders knew what was expected of them. So, since Lightning had become as much fun as a wet cat, it was up to him to find something to do.
Snow restlessly pounded one of his fists into his open palm, as he took in the Bodhum's deck again, before frowning. There was a silver-haired woman running diagnostics for one of the thrusters, wearing a Red Wings uniform and a very intense look on her face. Huh, he didn't remember that woman ever being in the crew before, and Snow liked to believe that he was good with names. The times when he wasn't sober didn't count. Elban rice wine could do some strange things to a man's brain.
Making his way quickly over to the woman, Snow remarked, "You know, I don't think I've seen you on the Bodhum, before."
Of course, chatting to the navigation crew wouldn't have been what Lightning would consider as 'keeping himself busy', but he quickly reminded himself that he was the Captain and he was meant to make the rules, damnit! If he wanted to get to know his crew, then, that's what he'd do. No shame in that, he reassured himself as the older woman looked up, looking slightly surprised by his question.
Well, he supposed that being addressed by the Lord Captain of the Red Wings wasn't something that happened all the time, but it wasn't that strange.
"I'm usually stationed under Rosch, so I understand why you wouldn't really recognize me, Captain," the woman said finally, smiling slightly as she nodded to him. The reaction seemed encouraging enough, so Snow leaned, backwards, against the nearby railings.
"Ha, I thought my memory was failing me, for a moment. So if you're normally on the Eden, then what brings you to the Bodhum? Sure can't be the company."
Snow looked pointedly towards the port side of the Bodhum, to where his First Lieutenant was loudly lecturing a member of Sazh's navigation crew. He caught snatches of the conversation on the wind, such as the words 'moron', 'foolhardy' and 'dangerous', and winced. Lightning was in rare form today, if she was giving the man a pull-through about knots.
Nora laughed, as she adjusted the strength of the airship's thrusters in accordance to one of the aircharts Sazh and Lightning had drawn up that morning.
"Sazh offered me a better-paying position in his crew, so obviously I accepted." She paused, looking down at the creased papers in her hands again, before rising smoothly to her feet. "I've got a son back home, and since my husband's death I've had a difficult task of keeping him fed and educated. He wants to study White Magic in Mysidia, and one day, I hope that's possible."
Snow closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the wind gusting through his hair and whipping his coat about. "Sounds like a great dream. How old is he?"
"Fourteen, in the month just passed. He's a good boy, and I know that he'll go the distance."
Huh. Fourteen? It was just shy of Snow's age, on that fateful that he'd decided on his dream. Once again, he looked over to where Lightning was stationed, wondering if his lieutenant would even remember that miserable afternoon.
It had been just after another battle against the forest imps, back during the Forest Imp Uprising. Lightning – she'd been Claire back then, he silently amended – had baited him into going out an 'examining' the battlefield, and that had been when they'd been dragged into the forest by the remaining imps. He'd been certain that he'd die that day, but then, like some sort of hero right out of legend, King Cecil had come and saved their necks.
It was then, looking up at the imposing but oddly gentle paladin, that Snow had decided that he wanted to become a legend, a real hero. Just like the paladin-king who'd saved his life.
"So, what do they call you?" Snow asked, opening his eyes and looking at the woman.
The silver-haired woman smiled, and saluting him sharply. "Nora Estheim. It's an honour to work with you, Captain Villiers."
Snow chuckled ruefully, answering her salute a little reluctantly. "You'd have to be the first to think that."
"Even so, I still believe that you can get us through – whatever the future throws at us. There's something about you that makes me certain of it." Her expression became a little more serious, before she laid a hand on his armoured forearm. It was a very motherly gesture.
"Must be sheer awesome and the never-say-die attitude. Gets people every time!" But no matter his bravado, his grin felt forced, and he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly when she just laughed. "It's been nice talking with you, Estheim, but I'm afraid that I'm gonna have to take my leave…"
As Snow made his way from Nora, to where Lightning was now arguing with Sazh of all people – the woman didn't have an easy-going bone left in her body, Snow realized with a groan – he had to say it. This Nora woman seemed to have a lot of faith in Snow's ability to lead the Red Wings to victory, instead of believing him to be just another figurehead Captain.
It was refreshing and humbling, all at the one time, and that respect made Snow wish for more of the same.
I promise, Nora, that faith's not gonna be in vain. I'll prove my worth, as a Captain, and one day I'll be a legend. Just like Cecil, and just like Old Highwind.
Hours had passed, and the sun was now low in the sky. The rest of the Red Wings soldiers had been fed and had been sent to prepare for their landing at Mount Ordeals, but the facts surrounding their mission still weighed heavily on Lightning's mind. Leaning over the Bodhum's railings as she watched the township of Mysidia approach, she wondered. The issues she'd raised to Snow, after learning of their mission from the King, had been serious ones.
If she squinted and raised her visor, she could see the murky mountain in the distant, dark against the golden light of the setting sun. A true holy place, if the general populace could be believed.
The fact was, that Mount Ordeals was the source of the paladins in this world. It had been there that Cecil Harvey had changed from being a wretched Dark Knight and into a world's saviour. The shrine atop that mountain was an icon for an entire generation, and was a symbol of humanity's strength and perseverance against Zeromus. The fact that hordes of monsters were gathering there sat uneasily on her shoulders, and that feeling had only grown stronger as the day had worn on.
Why Mount Ordeals? Is it being targeted on purpose?
But Snow's quick dismissal of her concerns had made it clear that he considered them to be a non-issue, and so Lightning had remained silent. She sighed, wishing she'd pressed him to further consider the implications. If Mount Ordeals was targeted and subsequently destroyed, there would be no more paladins. And if there came another Lunar Crisis, then…
"Ah, Mysidia. Nice to be back home, even if just for an instant," Fang's voice sounded from behind her, and Lightning silently groaned as she snapped her visor back down. She idly wondered if it was possible for an individual to be as consistently frustrating as the dragoon squad leader, and if anybody would notice if she threw the woman overboard. Though considering how high the dragoons normally jumped, Lightning doubted the fall would kill her.
Not turning to face her latest irritant – for a relatively new dragoon, Fang certainly had some gall to address her so familiarly – Lightning snapped, "I thought I told you I was too busy to stand around and chat with you."
Never one to be put off by harsh words and killing intent, Fang just grinned at Lightning's annoyance and leaned on the rail next to her.
"Sure you did," the dragoon agreed, actually sounding pleasant for a change. "But you've been staring into space for the last ten minutes, so I figured that you might be in need of a bit of a reviver."
And with that, Fang unceremoniously shoved a cup of water at Lightning. Lightning heard her curse as a small amount slopped over the sides and onto the dark gauntlets, as the Dark Knight had no choice but to hastily accept the cup. A large chunk of bread followed, and Lightning looked down at the food with a slightly bemused expression.
"I'm not hungry, Dragoon," she told Fang, feeling slightly exasperated by the dragoon's gesture. She had far too much on her mind to just stop and eat, there was far too much to check and consider and delegate -
Fang shrugged, but those green eyes slyly cut towards Lightning. She tapped her chin, thoughtfully. "Hm. Gotta keep your strength up, can't have you fading on us at a crucial moment. Right?"
Lightning was about to argue the point, but as if roused by the sudden presence of food and water, her stomach rumbled. It was loud enough to make her wince.
Damn it all.
"Classy," Fang said, and her expression was insufferably smug about her 'victory'. "I know you're tryin' to act all tough-like for my sake, but really."
Lightning laughed, a small and reluctant sound, as she removed her dark helm. They were silent as Lightning quickly finished off the food, watching Mysidia pass underneath them as they continued their journey towards Mount Ordeals. There were still no sign of this so-called monster horde, and a part of Lightning wondered if they could relax. Perhaps the monsters had split up, and that there was no horde anymore.
The feeling of anxiety in her stomach only increased, and Lightning scowled. No, she couldn't afford to let her guard down, no matter how safe things were looking.
Fang sighed as she watched Mysidia fade into the distance again, running her gloved hand through her hair restlessly. Lightning glanced at her, nodding for Fang to speak freely. Of all times, now Fang was going to adhere to military regulations? After the absurd nicknames, the insults and the flirting? The woman was an odd one.
"Got a sister back home, studying to be a black mage," Fang told her, slowly, but the expression in her green eyes seemed softer now. "She's real sharp with the status magic and the theory, and I know she's gonna go far."
Lightning made a small sound of agreement. "Mysidians usually do have strong magic – that's probably why many of them chose to stay and train there. There's no need to leave."
She hesitated, unsure if she should ask the obvious question. Why would a Mysidian chose to serve in Baron's military, when she could have stayed home and learned the town's trademark magic from the Elders? Fang seemed to have sensed her unasked questions, because those green eyes were sly again.
"Couldn't resist 'chatting' to me, I see. Maybe the icy First Lieutenant Farron is human, after all?" the dragoon asked, grinning. "Well, I guess I was never any good at all that finicky magical crap, except for maybe a few select topics."
Vague, Lightning noted, as she watched Fang pause to consider her words. A few select areas of magic is better than no magic at all.
She cast her mind back, considering everything she knew about Fang's combat style, but she couldn't recall any outstanding differences between Fang and the next generic dragoon. It hardly mattered, though.
Fang was continuing though, and Lightning forced herself to pay attention.
"I never minded stabbing shit with spears when I was younger, so going to Baron and training as a dragoon seemed like the obvious answer. Kain Highwind inspired a lot of people." Those pale, green eyes flickered up to meet Lightning's, and then the woman added with a meaningful look, "Same with Cecil Harvey, if the Dark Knight get-up is any indication."
Lightning carefully ignored the obligatory jab at her profession. "The Red Wings is the world's most extensive defense force, and its peace-keeper. The shield that will defend us against both the known and the unknown. That's what King Cecil wanted when he recreated us, and that's what King Ceodore continues."
She heard Sazh yelling something to one of the crewmembers nearby, but it all seemed so peripheral now. Between the feeling of tenseness between her shoulder blades, the anxiety strangling her heart and her conversation with Fang, none of anything seemed real. She shook her head quickly, trying to clear the creeping sensation.
To her right, Fang looked thoughtful as she straightened, pushing herself back from the railings and crossing her arms against her chest. The light from the setting sun caught on the golden tribal markings on her blue armour, made her eyes seem like a far more vibrant shade of green than they actually were.
"So, I told you my deal." The dragoon's eyes were deadly serious. "But I gotta say, I'm more interested in hearing your story, Light."
Lightning cursed softly. Why did it always come back to that, with everyone she talked to?
"That's Lieutenant Farron, Dragoon," she reminded Fang, scowling, more than eager to remind the dragoon of her rank and the distance that was meant to be between them.
"Whatever you want." Fang gave a flippant wave, as if the motion could defuse Lightning's anger. "What in Bahamut's name would make a woman like you, use up her own life span to gain a little extra power? It's barmy, if I'm gonna be honest."
"I don't recall asking for your honesty, and this isn't a topic that's up for discussion." Lightning's voice was flat. There was no need to ask her why she'd become a Dark Knight, because as far as everyone else was concerned, she just was. It was her choice, and why the hell was everyone so caught up about it? Serah, Kain, the King, Snow, the rest of Baron and now Fang?
Fang seemed to have gotten the message, because that confrontational look in her eyes had vanished. "Shame, that. Was just tryin' to get to know you a little, no need to get nasty."
Sunlight was beginning to fade, and the sun was just a wedge of red on the horizon. It washed everything in crimson light now, and it seemed almost… threatening. Lightning's feelings of tenseness and anxiety skyrocketed with every passing moment, and she swallowed uneasily. To her right, Fang was still leaning against the rails. She hadn't left, yet, and was watching the sun set. Was she feeling as odd as Lightning was?
As the last sliver of the sun went down, Lightning felt a jolt run through her, and suddenly she was on one knee, staggering and dazed. Sweat ran down her cheek and beaded at her temple, and every fiber in her was screaming fight or be killed. She could feel her breath coming hard, and there was an electrifying current in the air –
Fang's fingers were twisted in her red scarf as the dragoon hauled her to her feet, backhanding her across the face.
And with that, Lightning snapped to, blinking back the dizziness until it was just a memory. Her cheek stung and she could taste blood – sensation seemed to have returned. Fang's hand was still buried in the scarf at her throat, but the relief in the other woman's eyes was palpable.
"You still with us?" Fang asked quietly, and after a moment's hesitation, Lightning pushed her hand away.
"I'm fine," she rasped out. No need to dwell on it – whatever it had been. As she looked over Fang's shoulder, out towards the approaching shadow of Mount Ordeals, her mind froze, her previous weakness suddenly forgotten.
It was a sea of monsters, there was no other word for it. Warped, twisting and disgustingly red under the growing light of the two moons, this was the horde that the Red Wings had received reports of. The lands before Mount Ordeals seemed to writhe with them, and even as her eyes desperately followed them, the existing monsters split in half to become two, only to latch onto another and devour, fuse with it, over and over in a cycle that was as fascinating as it was sickening.
Fang's eyes had followed hers, and Lightning heard the distinct sound of the dragoon gagging. And Fang wasn't the only one who'd just noticed the monsters – the screams of horror and confusion had begun around them, from airship navigators and wingmen alike. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before, Lightning realized as she watched the growing chaos around them. Even during the last two Lunar Crises…
A shudder ran through her, and Lightning fought the dizziness again. Ripping Fang's dragoon helm from where it hung on the woman's belt, she roughly shoved it into Fang's gloved hands. The dragoon caught it mechanically, meeting Lightning's eyes with a look that spoke of bubbling hysteria. Lightning couldn't blame her. Bahamut, even Captain Highwind would have recoiled at the sight of it…
"Helmet on, Yun," Lightning commanded her firmly, still trying to banish the last dregs of sluggishness from her mind. She had to step up and lead, even if the sight of those monsters scared her as much as the most inexperienced cadet. That was her job.
"Who are you? My ma?" Fang asked hoarsely, but in spite of her smart comment, her expression still looked ill. She seemed rooted to the spot, transfixed by the sight of Mount Ordeals engulfed by hell. Scared for her home and her family in Mysidia, Lightning realized. In this battle, there was a lot on the line for Fang. If the Red Wings failed to contain the situation, Mysidia would die with them. That much Lightning was sure of.
Even in my most generous calculations, I never expected something like this…
Lightning cursed, shoving Fang in the shoulder to get her attention.
"Rally your troops, and I want you to get the men back in order. I need to get Captain Villiers." Lightning paused, meeting the other woman's eyes. She felt compelled to tell the truth to Fang, even if it was an acknowledgement of her failures as a lieutenant. "This is… bad. I didn't plan for anything of this scale."
Just a mob of monsters, out of the way of Mysidia and not far from Mount Ordeals. That had been the mission King Ceodore had given them, and that had been the mission she'd planned for.
"I know." The admission seemed to galvanize Fang, because her green eyes were no longer afraid, but held a steely determination. Good. She wasn't freezing any longer. "I got it covered. Just do your job, and I'll do mine."
As Lightning sprinted for the captain's quarters, to alert Snow to the swarm of monstersthat had just appeared from nowhere, she heard Fang shouting orders to her dragoons. By the time she reached Snow's door, he'd already heard the warning bells, and was roaring his commands to the Red Wings to land and deploy all wingmen divisions.
Her heart was pounding as she reached Snow's side, and he shot her a fierce grin as she snapped down her helm.
"Hope you're ready, Light, 'cause we're going in guns blazing. We got this."
She nodded, drawing Zantesuken and Zanmato and wreathing both weapons with dark fire. No holding back.
A/N: So you totally don't get kudos if you guess what's going to happen to Nora, because blatant plot device is blatant and as FFXIII fans you should know this already. ;p But anyhow, next chapter is devoted to the battle, which I must say goes pretty grand-scale. I don't get many chances to do epic battles of armies, so let's just hope I don't botch it.
Several important things happened in this chapter, that will be very relevant later on, so can you guess what they were?