I don't own the rights to the plot or any of the characters from Final Fantasy XIII. The only thing that one could say I technically own the rights to is my original character, whose name currently remains a mystery.
Ohhhhh, this is a slightly long chapter. I hope that my readers won't be completely turned off by its length. I thought about splitting it into two chapters, but I couldn't find any particular point where I felt comfortable splitting it. So, what you have is a very long second chapter. I hope you enjoy. I hope to update this story once a week. I'll also make corrections to previous chapters during that time as well so I don't get people's hopes up in thinking there's a new chapter when, in reality, I just changed a few words here and there.
This chapter is full of allusions to previous FF games. This will be a repeating motif throughout the story. Feel free to play the game of "spot the references" if you wish. It's also important to note that I have NO military experience, so forgive me if I make a few technical errors when talking about the Corps. Tips and corrections are very much appreciated.
Thank you to those who reviewed. I have subscribers! Oh man, crazy stuff!
Chapter 2 - I Think I Dreamed You Into Life
The sunlight glowed faintly in between the panels of the Venetian blinds, a sign that morning had come. The muted glimmer, however, had become bright enough to rouse Hope from his state of light slumber. He slowly opened his eyes and blinked several times in order to bring his sight into focus. With equal sluggishness, he sat up and yawned before slowly bringing himself to his feet. From downstairs, he heard the muffled sounds of Snow's booming laughter. He looked over at his clock and saw that it was past 9:00am, which meant that breakfast had probably been served at least 45 minutes earlier.
It was a rarity for him to fall back asleep after his dreams awoke him, let alone to sleep this late. He said a silent thank you to his two hosts downstairs for not waking him up to join them for the morning meal. Giving one large yawn and running a hand through his messy hair, he made for the door and began the walk towards the kitchen.
Hope groaned in protest when he reached the bottom of the stairs and was greeted with beams of blaring sunlight from all of the surrounding windows. He roughly squinted his eyes to protect them against this solar invasion and continued onward with a lethargic air to his gait. Finally, he rounded the familiar corner and made his way into the kitchen.
"Good morning, Hope!" Serah chirped from her seat, her hands clasped around a colorful mug. Hope gave a nod her way and walked toward one of the remaining seats at the kitchen table. Snow grinned at the teen and slapped his back affectionately. As he had in the early hours of the morning, Hope found himself biting back a wince at the force of his blow. A raw, prickling sensation began to tingle across his skin, and Hope began to envision the large, red handprint that was undoubtedly beginning to appear beneath his sleep shirt.
"Morning," he mumbled languidly, his voice deep and hoarse from fatigue and lack of use during the night hours. Serah popped up from her seat with a bubbly spring in her step and made her way to the fridge. Humming an unfamiliar cheery tune, she pulled out a plate of food covered in plastic wrapping and popped it into the microwave.
"Ahh…you didn't have to do that for me, Serah," Hope protested, feeling extremely guilty that a very pregnant woman was going on and catering him like she was. "I mean, you already prepared everything…the least I could have done was reheat it."
Serah waved a hand dismissively as she operated the microwave and began to reheat Hope's breakfast.
"It's no trouble at all," she replied over her shoulder as the machine came to life with a push of a button. She followed up her preparation of his meal by fetching a glass from one of the kitchen's many cupboards and filling it with fruit juice from a pitcher on the counter.
"Still, Serah," Snow cut in, looking over at his wife "Dr. Pollendina said you shouldn't be overexerting yourself. You've been placed on bed rest, remember? You know, the reason why you had to go on an extended maternity leave from the hospital? Maybe the phrase 'avoid nonessential activities' rings a bell?"
Serah had gone to school and became a registered nurse in the years following The Fall. In an attempt to be closer to her sister, she took a job at the Guardian Corps' Medical Facility (with the help of a raving review from Lightning on Serah's behalf). There, she exercised her natural drive to nurture and care for others through her treatment of wounded soldiers, commonly admitted with injuries related to the ever-present dangers of Pulse's untamed wilderness.
Serah placed the pitcher back onto the counter and whirled around to face Snow, her eyes slightly narrowed. Despite her attempts to be defiant and stern, Hope could see the coy smile playing at her lips.
"Ohh, I'll be fine," she huffed in assertion. At that moment, a shrill beep rang from the microwave, alerting those in the room that Hope's breakfast was ready. Hope stood up from his chair to retrieve his meal, but Serah had already pranced her way to the microwave before he even had time to take a single step. Removing the plastic wrapping, she hummed the same, happy tune as she brought over Hope's breakfast and glass of juice. Hope gave a low sigh of defeat before sitting back down in his chair, Snow reflecting his current predicament with a look of exasperated amusement. Hope's guilt was, however, soon forgotten. The delicious mixture of smells coming from the eggs, sausage slices, and fried potatoes made Hope's mouth water, and he suddenly realize how incredibly hungry he was. Picking up the lone fork remaining on the table, he began to scarf down his food with a minimal regard for propriety.
Hope faintly heard the front door creek open and shut noisily a few moments later. He knew it as a signal that Lightning had decided to stop by. After all, as Serah's older sister and Snow's sister-in-law (though the reinstated soldier loathed to admit the latter), Lightning was the only person who could claim to have such free reign in the Farron-Villiers house: having the privilege to come and go as she pleased.
The kitchen door swung open on its hinges, and Hope's theory was proven to be true as the stoic, pink-haired Commander strode into the room.
"Morning, sis!" Snow greeted warmly. Lightning simply looked at him with a coldly blank expression, causing Hope to snort into his glass of fruit juice. That action sprayed some of the liquid up into his nose, causing him to grimace as he reached for a napkin. Snow smirked at Hope's small interaction with the undeniable forces of karma before looking back at Lightning. By that time, Serah had made her way over to her sister to give her a warm hug.
"Claire!" she crooned happily, "I'm so glad you're here! Would you like something to eat? I have some leftover food from breakfast that I could pop in the microwave for you."
Lightning allowed her back to fall swiftly against the nearby wall, her arms crossed purposefully across her chest. She gave her younger sister a pointed look.
"Serah, I am perfectly capable of doing all of that myself. You, on the other hand, should listen to what the doctor told you to do and stop fussing around like this," she stated in an authoritative manner. Serah frowned slightly, but gave Lighting the same dismissing wave of her hand that she had shown Hope earlier.
"Just because I'm carrying a few extra pounds of baby with me does not make me some sort of useless creature. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Claire."
Lightning sighed. Her annoyance regarding the repetitive nature of this argument with her and the younger Farron displayed evidently across her face.
"I'm not against you doing things for yourself. Snow, on the other hand, could do well to get off his lazy-"
"Hey!" Snow protested from his seat at the table. Lightning made no attempt to respond to his indignation and continued to look at Serah. The younger woman's expression shifted to one of mild irritation, something that—even in such a muted form—was a rarity for the ever-smiling and jovial Serah.
"Ohh, hush Claire. Snow already does so much for me," Serah replied, looking over at her husband with a sickeningly sweet look of adoration. He smiled lovingly back at her as she made her way over to him.
"Tch" Lightning scoffed while Serah strode over to Snow before leaning down and giving her husband a chaste kiss. Hope cracked a small smile at the loving interaction. Snow may be as dense as they come, but anyone could clearly tell how much he adored and cherished his wife, and Serah vice-versa.
Lightning chose to ignore her sister's affections with her husband and to focus her attention elsewhere, namely Hope. She strode with purpose towards the remaining empty seat, catching his attention and locking her stern gaze with his slightly bewildered one.
"Hope, I've arranged for you to have a meeting with Sergeant Lucil next week. He's been assigned to be the squad leader for you and the rest of the incoming troops," she explained. Hope gave a dramatic sigh lightly laced with exasperation but mostly reflective of his amusement.
"Light, I'm pretty sure that I've been introduced to, had lunch with, or had a private meeting with just about everyone in the Guardian Corps by this point. I even know the janitor's name who works at headquarters…heck, I know the name of his kids now!" Hope replied with cheeky grin. Lighting sat up straight, slight indignation ringing in her gaze.
"You know, if you don't appreciate my help-" she began, but Hope held up his hands in defeat and an attempt to placate her ire.
"It's not that, Light," he replied calmly, muting his grin into a slight smirk. "I appreciate everything that you're trying to do for me. I really do, honestly! But, I feel like I'm already head and shoulders above all of the other new recruits. I mean, with your helping me with combat training, taking me on a tour of the soldiers' quarters, and drilling me on every aspect of the Guardian Corp's chain of command…I think I'm more prepared than I have been for anything in my life."
"Not to mention," Snow interjected, his hands placed on top of Serah's arms, which were currently wrapped around his shoulders, "he doesn't want to be thought of as a brown-noser by the rest of his squad. There's no easier way to earn their distrust and annoyance than to come off as a suck-up." Hope bit the inside of his cheek, thankful that Snow could voice the concern that he was far too bashful to bring up, especially with Light. The Commander in question gave the tall blond a quick but silencing glare before turning back to the silver-haired teen.
"In the Corps, it's all about who you know. You want people to pay attention to you, Hope: notice your strong points; see what you're capable of. It's the quickest way to a promotion and working your way up in the ranks. You have exactly seven weeks until boot camp, and so you should be using this time strategically. Put yourself ahead of the pack." Hope blinked slowly and looked down at his empty plate for a moment. Realizing that resistance was utterly futile, he looked back up at her and gave a genuine grin.
"Alright, Light. I trust you." Lightning gave him a warm smile, a phenomenal action reserved for only Hope and Serah. It caused his heart to swell up with pride, as it always did whenever Lightning showed the teen any sign of affection. Hope had looked up to her since their journey as l'Cie. Back then he was a terrified child. Having just lost his mother, he took solace in an all-consuming rage and the burning hunger for revenge-finding them to be the only motivator that kept him from completely giving up and embracing defeat. She taught him how to be strong; how to fight and protect those he cared for. Within the black void of their seemingly damned fate, she gave him a purpose, a goal for which to strive. Five years later, Hope still held Lighting Farron in the highest position of reverence, crediting her more than himself with the personal transformation he underwent during their journey.
Hope was brought out of his nostalgic thoughts with a small whine coming from the fridge. He looked over and saw Serah animatedly scouring through its contents. Giving another disheartened cry, she gave up her futile search and slowly closed the door.
"Something the matter?" Hope inquired. Serah bit her lip, excruciating disappointment shining in her features.
"We're out of gysahl pickles," she whispered dejectedly, slumping gingerly against the fridge door. From the table, Snow choked on the sip of tea he had attempted to sneak from his wife's cup. He stared at Serah with wide eyes.
"What? Serah, I just bought you two huge jars of them last week!" Snow exclaimed as he placed the mug back on the table. Serah's cheeks flared with a pink blush while she continued to gaze feebly at the floor. Since the early weeks after discovering that she was pregnant, Serah suffered from undeniable cravings for gysahl pickles. The pickles were a delicacy created with the vast selections of wild vegetables and spices Pulse had to offer its new inhabitants. Apparently, even Snow could still be surprised at the magnitude of his young wife's appetite for the dish.
Snow sighed, "I'm sorry, baby. I'd go to the market and buy some more right now, but it'll have to wait until this evening. I've got stuff to do with NORA in an hour. We're starting the process of clearing out fiends from a potential new settlement area west of District 8." After the fall of Cocoon, Snow and the other members of NORA put their organization for good use, mainly focusing on attempting to ease the transition of the populace's relocation to Pulse. Their assistance in helping to eradicate fiend populations during the Guardian Corp's and PSICOM's (or Pul-PSI, as many citizens had come to call the updated organization since their forced migration) initial reorganization efforts proved invaluable. Lightning still refused to acknowledge the value of Snow's "little group" and their accomplishment, and instantly rolled her eyes at his declaration.
Meanwhile, Serah let out a crestfallen sigh, appearing to admit defeat. However, a quick flash of resolution glimmered in her eyes. Welling her eyes with desperation, she slowly raised her eyes and looked to Hope.
"Hope…" she whispered, her lower lip slightly pouted, "Hope...would you...maybe? I-I…avoid nonessential activities…"
'Aww, man, now she remembers her doctor's orders,' Hope groaned to himself, shutting his eyes and letting his head fall sharply forward. Lightning considered the teen for a moment before giving her sister a reproachful glance.
"Oh, Serah. Stop with the theatrics. You know good and well that Hope is far too sweet to ever say no to anything you ask," she clipped. Hope slightly bristled with resentment at the implication of her words; was he really that much of a doormat when it came to the Farrons? But then again, when he really thought about it, Serah could ask him to single-handedly slay a Wyvern while blindfolded…and he'd at least consider attempting to follow through with her request.
Exaggerated hypothetical situations aside, Hope looked up at Serah and gave her a kind smile.
"Yes, I'll go to the market for you and get you some pickles," he conceded. Serah squealed with delight and bounced over to him, wrapping her arms around the teen and pulling him in for one of her soft, dainty hugs. Snow laughed heartily at her enthusiasm from across the table
"Ohh! Thankyou-thankyou-THANKYOU!" she cried, nuzzling her cheek affectionately against the crown of his head. Hope chuckled in amusement, playfully pushing her away from him.
"Alright, alright. Okay, okay. I'll just get dressed and head on out," he laughed, getting up from his chair, picking up his dirty dishes with the intent of washing them in the sink. Serah quickly snatched the dishes out of his hands, proceeding to shoo him towards the door. Giving Serah one last grin and a roll of his eyes, Hope turned on his heel to go and change.
"I'll go with you," Lightning declared suddenly the moment he placed his hand on the kitchen door. "I need some things for myself as well."
Hope nodded, pushing the door open and walking out of the room. Leaping up two stairs at a time, Hope walked briskly to his room and shut the door behind him. He made his way over to the dresser and picked out a simple black t-shirt and blue jeans. Quickly discarding his sleep clothes and dressing himself in his day attire, he walked over to the closet to complete the outfit. He promptly picked the black boots Lightning had given to him for his 19th birthday and the grey motorcycle jacket Sazh had bought him for that very same occasion.
When he was finally dressed and ready to go, he walked out of his room and towards the stairs. There, he found Lightning waiting at the front door near the base of the steps. Hope gave her a sheepish smile, silently apologizing for making her wait. Not wanting to delay her any further, he proceeded to slide down the stairs' banister and used the remaining momentum to stride quickly over. Lightning scoffed, obviously not amused at his reckless antics, but unable to completely mute the faintest twitches of a smile playing at corners of her mouth. Hope's shy smile immediately broke out into a sly grin as he followed her out the door.
Snow and Serah had decided to build their dream house slightly outside the city limits of New Bodum. Though the distance would take roughly 30 minutes to cross on foot, Lighting appeared to have made the silent decision that she preferred to walk the distance rather than use her government-issued velocycle. Hope gave an inward smile of relief. As a passenger on a vehicle designed for a solitary driver, he would be required to wrap his arms around Lightning's waist for support. No matter the now countless times he had been subjected to that scenario, Hope had never been able to completely eradicate the striking blush that would consistently creep across his cheeks from his close proximity to the soldier. Lightning Farron, though reserved and calculating, was a beautiful woman-and Hope wasn't blind.
He recalled the very first time he rode on the back of her velocycle when he was 15 years old. It was quite possible that, at the time, he was still slightly scarred from his experience with Vanille at the Hanging Edge, when he had crash-landed the cycle within the Vestige and nearly killed them both. Lightning had taken a turn a little too sharp for his liking, causing him to panic and grip his hands wildly at her front. One of his straying hands, immediately remembering it to be the left, had grasped slightly north and enclosed itself on one of her breasts. His ears rang for days after she proceeded to box him hard across the side of the face and scream directly into it.
Upon hearing the retelling of the incident later that evening, Snow had laughed so hard that he fell to the ground with tears streaming down his face.
The two walked in comfortable silence, Hope taking the occasional opportunity to kick a pebble across the yet-undeveloped grassland. It wasn't long before he could see the outlines of New Bodum's skyline. Walking further, an array of tables and tents that had been set out for the weekly Farmer's Market also came into focus. Pulse's naturally fertile landscape had driven many individuals to begin growing their own fruits and vegetables. As more and more people attempted to make a profit from their harvests, New Bodum's popular weekend tradition slowly came to realization. Eventually, the market became composed of more than just edible goods; everything from artwork to jewelry were among the market's commodities.
It was among those countless tents that Serah's personal ambrosia, gysahl pickles, could be purchased.
Lightning was a woman of purpose, and so it was no surprise that she made a beeline for the familiar table. Hope, however, chose to take the time to meander through the multitude of stands and observe the various aspects of the market's merchandise. He knew that the soldier would not be happy upon discovering that he had strayed from her side, but he chose to face the potential of her scolding for the opportunity to observe his surroundings.
It would prove to be a decision that would alter the course of his life forever.
Hope gave passing smiles and nods to the individual salespersons attempting to lure him over with their respective goods, only occasionally stopping to peruse the items displayed on the tables before him. He became increasingly disconcerted as people repeatedly bumped into him from all sides, several individuals without so much as a mumbled apology. As much as he loved New Bodum's outdoor market, he detested large crowds. Not so much as Lightning, though, who he knew was loathing every second she spent amongst the mass throng of shoppers.
He made eye contact with a group of three teenage girls, appearing to be around his age, who were glancing at him from two stands over. He had smiled with only the intention of being polite, but his small gesture caused the girls to immediately giggle furiously amongst themselves. He felt a faint blush tinge his cheeks as they repeatedly looked back at him with large grins on their faces. One of the girls was so bold as to give him a small wave of her fingers, attempting to entice him over. Hope lowered his gaze to the floor, overcome with nerves. He walked onward with a brisk pace, attempting to drown out the incessant giggling that made his cheeks burn redder and redder.
He had looked down the street with the intention of locating his pink-haired companion, but something caught his gaze instantly. Hope's body was rendered completely rigid, and the warm blood in his veins instantaneously turned to ice.
"Okay, so I bought three of their largest jars," Lightning was addressing him nonchalantly as she came to his side. He could faintly hear her rummaging through the bags in an examination of her purchase. "If this doesn't last her through the week, then..." Lighting's words had trailed off. A small wave of logic through his otherwise stupefied brain passively deduced that she must have noticed his unabashed stare; his gaping jaw.
His eyes had zeroed in on a girl casually walking alone while observing the various shops and stands. A girl with pale skin, long, red-brown hair and irises with a unique coloring of silver.
"Hope? What is it?" Lightning's voice was laced with a small tinge alarm. In his daze, Hope barely managed to form the only two words that mattered.
"It's her…"
Next time on The Fell Clutch of Circumstance:
"You're following me," she stated as she continued to hold the hunting knife close to his neck. Her silver eyes were unforgiving, silently challenging him to deny her words. Hope swallowed thickly.
"Y-yes," he stammered. The girl's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and she pursed her lips into a tight line. Her hand gripped the dagger's hilt more tightly.
"Why?" she drawled. Hope opened and closed his mouth several times. How could he possibly explain to her without sounding like someone who was completely off their damn rocker? Or...without having this scenario end with that menacing blade being lodged into his throat?