Chapter Text
Quistis woke up smelling spring in the air even through the thick walls of the Holy Order of Eden, so she awoke in a good mood and a certain restlessness to be back on the road again. Having a place to overwinter was very nice, but she was only a few months into being a proper knight errant and she was looking forward to going forth to right wrongs again, particularly with her partner Seifer. He was not that sort of partner, but not entirely a platonic one either. Quistis didn't agonize overmuch about the specifics; Seifer was hers and she was his, and they performed beautifully in the field together even if sometimes Seifer drove her just a tiny bit mad. Perhaps a lot mad. A hundred years as a dragon didn't rub off a man so easily, though at least Seifer had started wearing armor much more consistently now that he consistently remembered he wasn’t blade- and arrow-proof anymore. And had stopped biting things to test if they were durable or edible.
In any case, Quistis was used to seeing Seifer first thing in the morning since their rooms were next to each other in the knight's wing, but his door was closed and locked when she went to check on him. Quistis was only slightly miffed by that. Another of Seifer's arguably draconian leftovers was that he slept very deeply in the wintertime and if woken before ready, was positively stupid with fogginess. Yet another reason to be grateful for a safe castle to overwinter in, though Quistis privately enjoyed the times in the field when she could wake up and look at his peaceful sleeping face. She would never take advantage of his naiveté and dragon-influenced infatuation with her to behave selfishly, but that didn’t meant Quistis stopped herself from enjoying the sight of the handsomest man she had ever met whenever she could.
When the door remained shut despite her knock, she shrugged and went down the corridor and down the long winding set of stairs down to the Great Hall, where everyone who was part of the Holy Order of Eden took their meals. It was a very grand room with a very tall ceiling, but thanks to the magic of the Good Sorceress Edea, always comfortable, always dry, and never drafty. Even when the snow was piled man-high outside, everyone could relax in light tunics and trews. Today, however, the shutters were thrown open on all the clerestory windows that ringed the Great Hall and Quistis could look out of them for a long sliver of greening horizon and a fresh breeze that further lifted her spirits. Nothing smelled as good as springtime, especially to a girl who had grown up in harsh, cold mountains. Entranced as she was with the coming season, it took Quistis a few moments to realize that the Great Hall was noisier than normal. In fact, everybody who was awake—knights, squires, pages, and servants—all seemed to be gossiping about something.
“I wonder what’s going on,” drifted across Quistis’s mind as she came down the stairs, and surreptitiously she tried to eavesdrop on her way to the serving table at the far end of the Hall. While nobody in the Order was actively hostile toward her, she didn’t really have friends either: Sir Loire’s errant lifestyle and less-than-stellar reputation, coupled with the fact that she had been the one to deliver the killing blow to the Order’s ultimate enemy, made most of her fellow knights and former fellow squires hold themselves back. It had ceased to bother Quistis a lot time ago, but it did annoy her that she couldn’t just go up to someone and ask what was going on without worrying that they wouldn’t tell her. Some small naive hope that she’d be fully accepted once she got her shield quietly poofed away.
A tiny cough made her glance down at her side, where a little page was standing somewhat anxiously. "E-excuse me, Dame Trepe?"
“Yes?" said Quistis, further surprised. She recognized this page as being Good Sorceress Edea's personal one. "What is it, Vivi?"
"The Lady would like to see you right now," he said with a little bob of his hooded head. "It's urgent. Follow me, please."
"Oh, alright." Quistis glanced unconsciously at the fresh rolls piled on the serving table, still steaming warm with pats of butter melting all over them, and suppressed a sigh.
"There will be breakfast," said Vivi helpfully, which did improve her mood.
Quistis followed Vivi out of the Great Hall and up several flights of stairs and corridors that became steadily less familiar, though not entirely alien. As the only blue mage in the Holy Order of Eden, Quistis was something of a magical oddity and the Good Sorceress Edea had been interested in finding out about her abilities, foremost of which was turning into a dragon that was much, much, MUCH bigger than Quistis's normal size. Apparently it violated something called 'physics', which Quistis didn't like the sound of. But even though Edea had been talking to her nicely and thoughtfully, being around her still made Quistis nervous. For so many years, Good Sorceress Edea had been a figure shrouded in mystery. Much of the Order was still wrapping their heads around the fact that she was real and alive, especially because she had founded the Holy Order of Eden over a hundred years ago. The human mind shied away from that kind of magnitude.
Eventually they came to a pair of tall wooden doors set with ironwork that Quistis suspected was probably enchanted, because why not. Vivi knocked on the door and called in his soft child voice, "My lady? I've brought Dame Trepe."
"Let 'er in!" called back someone who was decidedly not Lady Edea. Quistis was so surprised she couldn't stop herself.
"Seifer! What are you doing in there?"
"Waiting for you! What took you so long?"
Now thoroughly mystified, Quistis nevertheless schooled her face to calm professionalism as the massive wooden doors swung silently open, admitting her and Vivi into Lady Edea's chambers. Inside was a room that kings would have envied, not for its furnishings but for its sheer size; it was like a Great Hall built only for one person, and instead of small clerestory windows there were huge, person-sized panels making up the roof of Lady Edea's chambers, coming together in a crystal point that hung down like a stalactite and pointed at the biggest, shiniest, roundest table Quistis had ever seen. On the far side of this magnificent table was a more pedestrian-looking one that was laden with food and surrounded by familiar faces.
"What you take so long, huh?" Quina Quen demanded without rancor. Since coming to the Order and taking over both the herbal clinic and the kitchens, his/her swamp colored robes had been replaced by an equally shapeless set of pink and white, though s/he retained the long red flag that resembled a wagging tongue and went down from his/her eyes to about his/her knees. S/he appeared to be serving since s/he was standing up while the others were sitting, and while Quistis thought at first s/he was talking to her, Quina instead pointed at Vivi, saying, "Your food getting cold, huh? Sit down."
"Y-yes, chef!" Vivi all but ran over, a sudden eagerness in his step. Quistis could understand why. There were more of those soft fluffy rolls that Quistis had noticed downstairs, but also bowls of soup, what looked like thin slices of meat, and even a sallat of the very freshest greens. The majority of this food was in front of Seifer, who was lounging in his chair at the side of the table with a sort of insouciance that made Quistis immediately uncomfortable. He was in the presence of the Good Sorceress Edea, what was he doing?
"Seifer, please sit up straight," she said, unable to help herself.
"I'm tired," he said, an edge in his voice. "I've been up for hours. I'll slouch if I want to."
"Why have you been awake so long?" Abruptly Quistis realized who she was scolding Seifer in front of and blushed, bowing the fastesr she'd ever done in her life. "Lady Edea! I'm so sorry, I--"
"It's alright, dear," said Lady Edea. She looked the same as the last time Quistis had seen her about two weeks ago, but her low musical voice was soft and sounded tired as well. "Please sit. Eat."
At that, Quina gave Lady Edea a significant sort of look, all the more pointed for the fact that Quina was entirely covered except for his/her eyes, and s/he rapped a small bowl of very dark soup that was sitting in front of Edea. There was an indefinably medicinal scent rising from it that made Quistis nearly frown with concern, especially when Lady Edea sighed, nodded, and took only the tiniest of sips from the bowl with an elegant grimace.
"I'll explain while you break your fast," said Lady Edea as Quistis took a seat at the table, across from Lady Edea and between Vivi and Seifer. She only vaguely noticed Seifer reaching across the table to ruffle Vivi's hood in a big-brotherly sort of way as Lady Edea said, "You're one of Sir Leonhart's friends, correct? Have you noticed anything strange about him recently?”
Quistis hesitated. “Calling me and Sir Leonhart ‘friends’ isn’t strictly accurate. We trained together for a while when Sir Loire was taking him back to the Order, but we don’t know each other well beyond that.”
Lady Edea frowned lightly. “Oh dear. I suppose it isn’t terribly important, but I was hoping to understand what he might have been thinking before…”
“Has something happened to Squall?” Quistis asked, worry cramping her heart. She didn’t know Squall well, that was true, but it wasn’t like she tried.
"Not precisely, but..." Lady Edea sighed. "I was wondering if he had displayed any odd behavior before becoming taken with Rinoa."
'Taken' was a bit of an understatement. Apparently Squall had caught sight of Rinoa during the Final Battle, been instantly lovestruck, and with his typical directness, had immediately gone and introduced himself to her despite having had his shield for less than a year. But Rinoa had been charmed by his bluntness and several weeks later, they'd become a formally sworn pair. It was all quite romantic, Quistis supposed; part of her was surprised that Squall had those kinds of feelings for anyone at all, especially considering what had happened between them several years ago.
With another small sigh, Lady Edea slouched in her own chair as well. It was not Quistis's imagination: she did look tired. “This is all my fault. I haven’t given Rinoa as much guidance as I should have. With Ultimecia's passing, there has been so much chaos in the world that entire destinies have been rewritten and I've been contacting seers and prophets nonstop to keep things current. Ellone is so balanced and calm that I assumed Rinoa was the same, but..."
Lady Edea fell silent then. Full to the brim with questions yet too intimidated by Lady Edea's power and legend to ask them, Quistis silently applied herself to food that she was too preoccupied to taste. Why was she here? Was it because she could turn into a dragon? Because she had killed Ultimecia? Was something really, really bad happening with Rinoa and that was why...?
"I should have thrown something at them last night," Seifer grumbled, making Quistis blink at him. At her unspoken question, he said, "Yes, I'm the one who saw them run. I had an ill dream and was getting something to eat when I saw them sneak out of the kitchen door and fly away. Didn't think much about it since I thought they were only fooling around, but then Matron called me. And then I said we should talk to you."
"Me? Why?" She frowned. "Because I can fly too?"
"Your top speed as a dragon will exceed even the swiftest of sorceresses," said Lady Edea, nodding. "If you can bring them back, we can avoid a very uncomfortable situation. I know it's asking a lot, but..."
"Anything to help," said Quistis, grateful that she wasn't being asked to do something more extreme. "I can leave right away. Ah… How will I follow them? If they left in the middle of the night last night, they’ll have quite a start. And do we know where they might be?”
“They’re going to Timber,” said Lady Edea with a sort of grim certainty. “It is Rinoa’s hometown. And the place she was protecting before she came to us.”
Timber, also known as the Free City of Timber. An important trade city governed by a council of elders rather than a hereditary ruler, it was rather close to the self-styled and sporadically expanding Empire of Galbadia. Quistis immediately understood why Rinoa had slipped away in the middle of the night and also why she had slipped away at all: the Holy Order of Eden was forbidden from interfering in mundane politics.
"Eat more," said Quina, pointing severely at Quistis as s/he hovered near Lady Edea, monitoring every tiny sip of soup with an eagle's focus. "Flying hard take lots of strength. I pack you things, pack you potions, okay? Okay. And remember your training, okay?”
Quistis nodded; in addition to his/her kitchen and infirmary duties, Quina had also been instructing Quistis in the ways and culture of the blue mages since Quistis’s ancestor had left the village long ago and not taught their descendants anything. Most pertinently, Quina had been teaching Quistis more blue magic.
“I will also give you an Odine bangle for Rinoa should she prove troublesome,” said Lady Edea, her eyes shadowed. “In case she has already reached Timber and cannot be reasoned with. I hope it will not come to pass, but…”
“Understood,” said Quistis with a stiff little nod. An Odine bangle was better than hurting a comrade, but still… To deliberately shut down a sorceress’s magic was to essentially cut off her hands for the duration of the bangle’s use. It made Quistis’s skin crawl, as well as her gut drop to realize just how serious this seemingly easy quest was.
“I’ll hold the bangle,” said Seifer, making Quistis blink at him. “What? We don’t know what it’ll do to you. Meanwhile I’m as normal as can be.”
“Of course,” said Quistis dryly. Never mind that a hundred years as a dragon seemed to have permanently imparted Seifer with greater-than-mortal strength, a certain degree of natural fireproofing, and quite a lot of natural magical resistance.
With the packs already taken care of and a ticking clock of unknown time, Quistis and Seifer decided to get ready and set off as soon as they were finished eating. At least they’d been in the Order’s castle long enough to have their arms and armor laundered and repaired, so their gambesons slid on like silk and smelled like lavender before their adamantine hauberks went back on. Their shields—Quistis’s heater, Seifer’s small buckler—had been repaired and polished as well and since they were being official, Quistis put on the black surcoat with the radiant crosses of the Holy Order of Eden upon them. By the time she was all kitted out, she was mildly sweaty and definitely ready to be outdoors, but upon exiting her room she found that Seifer was still gearing up.
“Everything alright?” She asked, finding him uncharacteristically still and silent. He was holding the surcoat in both hands with a strange look on his face.
“Fine,” he said brusquely, pulling the surcoat on. And then a moment later, “She’s older.”
“Who? Lady Edea?” When he nodded, Quistis laid her hand on her cheek and said, “Well, it has been a whole century since you’ve seen her. Is it that much of a surprise?”
“Have you ever gone to sleep and woken up with your mother looking ten years older?” He asked irritably. “And acting fifty years older? She’s tired. I don’t know… She should have seen this coming. Her power is seeing the future, damn it.”
“Does she always see the future perfectly, though? And she said something about Ultimecia’s magic rewriting destinies. It sounds like exactly the kind of thing that would give a seer trouble.”
“I guess.” Seifer belted the surcoat, still perturbed. “Back when I was little, stopping Ultimecia was the only thing she cared about outside the Order and me. I knew she was at least a hundred then. And now Ultimecia’s gone and she has two successors, so…”
He fell silent again. Quistis went over and grasped his hand. She wanted to give him a hug—indeed, her arms ached to hold him—but the impact would have been lost in surcoats and adamantine and quilted tunics. But neither of them were wearing gloves. At the touch of her bare hand in his, Seifer looked up. There was something in his face that made him look the most human that she’d ever seen him.
“We’ll get them and be back soon,” she said as comfortingly as possible. “And we’ll be in the castle for a while yet. Everything will be fine, Seifer.”
He nodded, the motion taking on more conviction the longer he looked into her eyes. His fingers tightened around hers, making a pulse of warmth push out from her chest. But now was not the time to examine such feelings.
“Good and clear,” commented Seifer as he and Quistis left through the eastern gate; in her transformed state, Quistis would be too big to comfortably take off from the castle’s interior courtyard. Mud made by spring rain squelched under their boots as Seifer added, “It’ll be steady flying with the wind in our favor as well. We’ll be back before dinner.”
“If we have a tailwind, Rinoa does too,” said Quistis. “And she’s had several hours of a head start on us. We’ll have to go extremely fast.”
“She’s carrying Squall. He’ll slow her down.”
“No, because he’s her bonded knight. That means they can share power.” At Seifer’s blank blink, Quistis explained, “He’s probably winged and flying as well.”
Seifer tsked, scowling. “Cheater.”
Quistis smiled sympathetically; she knew how much Seifer missed flying on his own power. Returning to his original human shape had been smooth for the most part but her heart always twisted whenever she caught him gazing at far-off birds with noticeable wistfulness and sometimes a sigh.
“Heeeeeey Quistis! Quiiiiistiiiis!!”
Quistis stiffened. Seifer glanced over his shoulder. As she saw his eyes light up, her suspicion about who was shouting her name over and over sank into certainty.
“Quistis! Seifer! Glad I found you!” Puffed Sir Loire—well, she supposed he was Laguna now that they were both equals—as he came up to them. While extremely fit since he was one of the Order’s permanent knight errants, he still bent over to catch his breath, one hand on his knee and the other pounding his sore leg. “Phew! Was afraid you’d be gone already!”
“Good morning, Laguna,” said Quistis, internally bracing for foolishness. She didn’t dislike her former knight-master, but the uncomfortable revelation that he’d kept the secret of her own blue magic from her throughout the entirety of her training made her less tolerant of him. “We’ve been sent questing by Lady Edea. Did you have a message from her or…?”
“Nonono, nothing like that!” He straightened, still absently massaging his sore leg. While still youthful and cheerful, Quistis saw lines on his face that didn’t have to do with smiles; actually, he rather looked his age at the moment, which was somewhere in his mid-thirties to her recollection. “I have something for the two of you. Heard you’re headed to Timber, sooo… Here!”
“What are they?” Quistis asked as Laguna all but slapped what looked like a rock on a string into her hand. It was a strange brownish color, smooth, and knobby in a way that looked vaguely familiar. Even more strange were what looked like the carved and painted glyphs all over them, and the strings were actually finely woven cord. “Is it a stone?”
“It’s bone,” said Seifer, his voice slightly garbled. Quistis looked at him sharply and boggled as she saw him spit his rock out of his mouth. “What? That’s how you tell bone from rock, you lick it.”
“And if it sticks, it’s bone!” Said Laguna cheerfully. As Quistis stared at him incredulously he continued, “Anyway, I meant to drop those off for some friends the last time I was over there, but I got so excited about picking up Rinoa and then we met up with Squall and watching the two of them was, PHEW! I kinda feel like this is all part of something big, you know?”
“What… What do you mean?” Quistis asked, reluctantly pulled into the rambling.
“Well, I was the one who convinced Rinoa to help us out, you know?” Laguna folded his arms, his eyes going misty in contemplation. “And you know I picked up Squall when he was little. You were there! And I picked you up too. So now… All of you are together and I feel like it’s fate or faeries or something.”
“No, I mean… Why was watching them…?” Quistis gestured vaguely, unable to say something as undignified as ‘phew’. Even to a man who had never once objected to her womanly pains and in fact would give her warm possets and other treats during that time of the month. “I thought Squall and Rinoa met during the final battle.”
“Oh, no! No, we ran into Squall on our way back to the order and WOW! Those two did not get along at first. I was afraid they were going to stab each other or set each other on fire if I stopped looking at them!” Then he laughed. “Guess all those sparks turned into a lovey-dovey flame! But Squall reminds me of me when I was little and I do like ‘em feisty! I’m proud of him!”
“Alright,” said Quistis, her personal discomfort finally reaching its internal threshold. “Thank you for the bones, Sir… Laguna. But we have to get going.”
“Of course!” He thumped them both heartily on the shoulders. “You’ll know where to take ‘em to! Say hi to the brothers for me!”
“What brothers?” Seifer asked, frowning.
“The brothers! Everyone knows them!” And then he waved and jogged back into the castle.
“I like him, but I’m glad I didn’t have to train with him,” said Seifer, which made Quistis sigh heavily. “No wonder you’re so particular about things sometimes.”
“Let’s just fly,” she said, stuffing her bone necklace into the pack. She still couldn’t believe that Laguna and Seifer both apparently licked strange rocks on the regular. She was very glad for gloves as well: who knew the last time these things had been licked? "The sooner we’re done, the better.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Quistis handed her pack to Seifer, transformed into her dragon shape, and picked him up in her hands to nestle him mouse-like against her chest before she took off with a leap and several powerful pumps of her rose-and-gold wings. Bracingly cold spring air rushed down her muzzle and neck, expanding her lungs and filling her veins with thrilling vitality; she had transformed a few times in winter to keep in practice, but the warmer air was so much more welcome and made Quistis glad despite everything. With a subtle tilt of her wings she aimed toward Timber, having consulted the bearing on a map just before coming out.
With more practice had come the ability subtly tweak her shape, and one thing Quistis had done was lengthen a set of scutes to become more prominent, which gave her a more intimidating-looking chest but also a shelf for Seifer to sit on for long trips. She could feel him sliding into the long, narrow gap between her scales as she took off and then rustling around a bit more as he took something special out of his pack. When she felt him knock on her chest wall, Quistis repositioned her hands so he could slide into her cupped palms and then she grasped him gently, one-handed, so she could get the next part of their journey ready.
It was the Dragoon division of the Order that had helped them out with this, considering that all dragoons achieved something close to flight for their distinctive devastating leaps. One of the reasons they were so accurate was because of the way their armor was made to cut through the air in only one direction, and with some help from a foul-mouthed irregular, Seifer had been able to come up with a version of dragoon armor that was literally only for flight. Obviously he wasn’t able to fly unassisted, but with Quistis providing the height, Seifer was fine with a very long cable, a modified helmet and bracers with long fins to help direct the air. It admittedly looked odd, but was as close to draconian flight as they could manage.
It still gave Quistis a bit of a lurch whenever she looped the end of the cable around her wrist, made sure it was tight, and then spooled Seifer out like a fish on a line. To her, it felt like a terrible risk in case the cable broke or if she needed to make quick changes, but to Seifer this was just a small part of a century of life he’d lost and she would do it for him no matter what.
There was also another advantage to having Seifer flying on his own. The cable was quite long and skillful manipulation of the flight fins allowed Seifer to glide more at her level rather than underneath. His helmet included enchanted lenses so he could see as far as she could. In effect it was like flying tandem with a lookout, which was how they ended up spotting the strange forest.
Quistis had been concentrating only on flying fast, so she’d initially dismissed the dark line on the horizon as nothing of importance. It was far below and further away, and it wasn’t moving.. But Seifer yanked madly on the cable, making her glance at him, and he hand-signaled urgently.
“Wrong.”
“What’s wrong?” Quistis called back. Seifer pointed ahead at the horizon and then signaled again.
“Wrong.”
Quistis focused on the dark line, which resolved into a sea of dense trees as she concentrated on them. “It’s just a forest, Seifer.”
“Wrong.”
“What do you mean, wrong?” She said, exasperated, and she sensed the same energy rolling off Seifer as he started hauling himself in on the lead line. She helped him along, pulling slowly and evenly so he didn’t flail irregularly at the end of the line, and tucked him back into her chest scute. Once there, he took of his helmet and started shouting, and she could hear the words resonating against her skin, seemingly traveling through her body and up into her ears.
“That forest isn’t on our maps. It’s not supposed to be there.”
“There’s a forest around Timber, Seifer. That’s where the city gets its name.”
“I know that! But are we anywhere near Timber?”
“Well…” Quistis trailed off as she realized that Seifer was right. Such a large forest would have surely made it onto the map that Quistis and Seifer had consulted just before flying, especially when said forest surrounded a well-known and highly traveled city-state. And in this part of the world, the land was more meadows and wispy woods, not dense stands of trees that looked like they’d been there a century or more. Edea’s admission about wild magic changing the way of the world echoed in Quistis’s head and she flew a little faster, perturbed. For a forest that wasn’t supposed to exist on a map, it was huge.
“I see a village not far off,” she called to Seifer. “I’m going to set down and see if anyone knows about these trees.”
“Good idea. If they’re spreading, that town might have a bigger problem than they’d like.”
Quistis imagined a slow wave of trees breaking over unsuspecting villages like a tide of green and iron roots in the night and shuddered.
Naturally they didn’t land outside the village while Quistis was still in dragon form, so it was truly dark by the time they managed to walk from their de-transforming site and get to the village proper, which was just big enough to have gated walls rather than sharpened stakes and volunteer ‘soldiers’ in various states of wakefulness. When they knocked, an eye-level slid in the gate slid open and revealed a pair of bright young eyes.
“Who goes there—oh! Knights of Eden!” The slit slammed shut, followed by the creaking of wood. A moment late the gate swung open just enough to admit Quistis and Seifer. “I can’t believe you’re here so fast! Your friends are in the inn.”
Quistis and Seifer exchanged looks as they slipped through the gap in the gate. “What friends?” Seifer asked the gate guard suspiciously. The guard was a bit younger than they were, lanky and nowhere near well-trained since he’d all but dropped his weapon to let them inside, and he seemed torn between awe and cobbled-together professionalism as he gawked at their armor and surcoats.
“Ah, the white-winged sorceress and her knight,” said the young guardsman, his eyes lingering over Quistis and Seifer’s shields. “They came this morning and said they’d wait for help to deal with the Moving Forest.”
“So it is growing,” Quistis murmured half to herself.
“Oh yes! It’s getting closer every day and it’s already eaten two whole hamlets.” He shuddered with a sort of frightened anticipation that seemed more delighted than devastated. “Nobody died or anything, but nobody could cut the trees down either and they just kept getting closer. Everyone had to pack up and leave. And nobody can even step inside more than a few feet! It turns them back around and pushes them right back out again!”
“Sounds like magic,” said Seifer with a scowl. “Sorceress-level magic.”
“Let’s not speculate,” said Quistis with a warning note in her voice. Seifer rolled his eyes. As she gave the gate guard a coin for his trouble and the information, Quistis said, “Now where exactly is the inn, please?”
“Straight down the road, then right at the well,” said the guard, pocketing the coin and muscling the door shut in the same motion. “Can’t miss it! It’s called The Hen’s Teeth! Ask for the dumplings, they’re really good.”
“Why do all inns have some unbearably folksy, nonsensical name?” Seifer groused as they tramped down the main village road. It was dirt rather than wooden or paved and what had been a pleasant spring morning back at the Order had apparently been rain here, so their boots squelched and sucked as they walked.
“You’d have to ask the innkeepers,” said Quistis, who had wondered the same thing in her youth and gotten the answer from Laguna. “I’m more interested in knowing why Squall and Rinoa are apparently waiting for us.”
“Tch! How dare they?”
Quistis rolled her eyes but patted Seifer consolingly on the arm. It was hard not to feel like they’d somehow lost a contest when their quarry didn’t need to be chased, but privately Quistis was glad that they wouldn’t have to work harder to find them. Flying that hard for so long was exhausting and if Squall and Rinoa were in a cooperative, talkative mood, then she could look forward to a good night’s sleep.
The Hen’s Teeth was as easy to find as promised and even though it didn’t seem to have a straight line anywhere that Quistis could see, it nevertheless radiated homely comfort. They crossed the wattle-and-daub boundary wall and threaded their way through chocobos and other riding beasts that were drowsing under a shared roof with only a few individual stalls; the presence of a stableman at the entrance was apparently enough to provide both protection and order. Lanternlight spilled golden onto the packed dirt as Quistis and Seifer approached, and even as tired as she was Quistis noticed that the murmuring of noise from inside the inn seemed relaxed and jovial. That boded well for at least this part of the mission.
“They’d better have a room for you,” grumbled Seifer. “After all the effort you’ve put in, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”
“If there’s no room, I’ll go dragon and sleep outdoors." And with that, Quistis pushed the inn door open.
The common room wasn’t full, but it had enough people there that it still took Quistis a moment to locate a woman with large white wings and her black-clad knight. The two of them were sitting in the furthest corner of the common room, as private as could be managed in the otherwise wall-less room: the fact that no one was giving them any kind of curious or suspicious glance made Quistis wonder if Rinoa was working some small sorcery for privacy and peace. If she was, it didn’t seem to be intended to ward away Quistis and Seifer. Indeed, Rinoa spotted Quistis at the same time Quistis saw her and then nudged Squall, who looked up from the chicken he’d been about to tear into.
A weird shiver went over Quistis’s skin as Squall met her eyes, the sensation penetrating flesh and blood to prick at her heart. Her face felt uncomfortably, painfully warm and her gut flopped like a near-dead fish. Unconsciously Quistis smoothed her hair over her ear, which Seifer immediately noticed and frowned at.
“Someday I’ll be able to look at Squall without remembering how embarrassing all of that was,” thought Quistis uncomfortably. Tragically, it was not going to be today.
So professionally and calmly, Quistis nodded at Squall, who nodded back and then gestured at their table with a tilt of his head. Quistis threaded her way across the room, Seifer in tow.
“I wasn’t expecting anyone so soon,” said Rinoa when Quistis and Seifer came within hearing distance. She didn’t seem any worse for wear from her own flight, but sorceresses followed a different set of rules that didn’t typically include things like ‘physical fatigue’. As she gestured at the empty bench across from her and Squall, Rinoa added, “But I’m thankful you’re here. Something very strange is going on around Timber and the Order should know about it at once. You can take a message back once you’re rested.”
“Someone enjoys playing the high lady,” thought Quistis dryly as she sat down.
“You can send a message to Edea right now,” said Seifer at once, glaring even as he sat on the bench. When Rinoa looked uncomfortable, he said snippily, “Unless you don’t know how? It’s a pity you left before you learned those lessons, isn’t it?”
“That’s not it,” said Squall, his eyes narrowing. He was in plain black woven leather armor but hardly inconspicuous between Rinoa’s company and the temper simmering in his glare. It was quite a departure from his usual quiet that a damnable sort of interest lifted its head in Quistis’s heart, rising from what she’d always assumed were ashes. “The forest is magical and it’s interfering with her sorcery.”
“Then you two should go back and Quistis and I will investigate, since we don’t have any sorcery to be interfered with."
“But Timber is still my home,” said Rinoa, lifting her chin defiantly. Her blue traveling dress was long-sleeved and unfussy, but fit as smoothly and seamlessly as only a sorceress could manage. There wasn’t even a hint of a wrinkle at her shoulders and waist, where normal fabric would surely pull around the bases of her large white wings. Said wings seemed to glow softly as Rinoa said, “And I’m still the most magically powerful one among us, which means I am the best person to find out what’s amiss and that’s exactly what I’ll do. But in case it’s beyond me, the Order should know and be prepared.”
“If there’s a chance it’s going to be beyond your abilities, you should come back with us now,” said Quistis, which made Rinoa start to shake her head. “The more sorceresses, the better for Timber. Isn’t that so?”
“I don’t think we have the time. The forest is growing swiftly and it’s already massive. It’s too close to Timber already. And I’m here. I should find out what I can as soon as possible. I’ve already been waiting here for—”
“Hours?” Seifer interrupted, making Rinoa stop with a pout. “Zounds, how tragic. A whole bolength could have been eaten by trees in that time. If the forest is interfering with your sorcery, leave its influence and send again.”
“Sending has never been one of my strong suits,” said Rinoa, flushing. “I’ll be exhausted afterwards, which means having no strength to face the forest. Please, just take a message back.”
“Not a chance,” said Seifer, bristling. “We are not your servants. We are all Knights of the Order and you are a sorceress of the Order, which means your priorities are the greater good. If you care about Timber, you would be returning to the Order yourself.”
“And leave them to whatever is happening out there? No!”
“Another alternative is that Squall and I go back to the Order,” said Quistis, which made Seifer whip around to stare at her in what looked like betrayal. “We obviously need speed and Squall will be able to describe the situation with all the necessary firsthand details.”
“And if you don’t behave,” said Seifer to Rinoa, not kindly. “You’ll never see him agai—Hey!”
“I promise to bring him back as soon as possible,” said Quistis, not at all sorry she’d kicked Seifer under the table: at his threat, both Squall and Rinoa had tensed up like they were going to fly from the room and maybe take the wall or roof with them. “We’re all of the Order. Nothing untoward will happen, I promise.”
Rinoa bit her lip. She looked at Squall and grasped his hand, her brow wrinkling. “Love? What do you think?”
The weird shiver went through Quistis’s skin again. She picked at her nails, no easy feat since her hands were clasped together.
“I don’t like the idea of being a hostage,” he said with a scowl and a sideways glare at Seifer. “And I like even less the idea of you in company with this brute.”
Quistis’s breath left her in a soft huff of indignation—how dare anyone call her dragon a brute?—but Seifer scoffed loud enough for both of them. Unfortunately, they were not united in sentiment. “As though her honor is of any interest to me, after the way you two—HEY!” He glared at Quistis, looking like he was on the verge of breathing fire. “Will you stop that?”
“When you stop behaving so horribly, I will.” Resisting the urge to rub her foot (he was still in flight armor and she was in walking boots; it was not a good combination), Quistis said to Rinoa, “I’m so sorry about him. I promise, his rudeness won’t compromise your safety or honor.”
“Among the Knights of Eden, I have no such concerns,” said Rinoa, sounding entirely sincere. “But…” She laid her hand over Squall’s. “We need to discuss. And in any case, if you’re flying back, you really do need to have a rest. I’m tired too. Shall we speak again here in the morning, at breakfast?”
“That suits me greatly,” said Quistis before Seifer could open his mouth and nearly destroy things again. “Now what is there to eat in this place?”
Rinoa lit up at the chance of non-fraught conversation. “Oh, well! There is a chicken soup tonight that is quite good, if a bit…”
“Crunchy,” said Squall.
“From hen’s teeth?” Seifer asked, apparently unable to resist insulting somebody. But Squall just inclined his head and the two of them looked unwillingly amused.
“I’m sure it’s only soft bones,” said Quistis to Rinoa, who looked annoyed. “And that suits me fine as well. Do you have a room here?”
“We do but we weren’t expecting anyone to follow so soon, so we didn’t reserve one for you as well.” Rinoa nibbled her lip. “I do hope there’s some space left.”
“I’ll find out,” said Seifer, surging up from the table. His disgruntlement at being denied a fight boiled off him like heat shimmer and Quistis seriously considered asking Squall to follow him to make sure Seifer didn’t start punching farmers out of pique. But she held her tongue. Seifer had his pride and more importantly he did have more sense than his temper implied, so she just thanked him and got an annoyed growl in response. It would have to do.
A while later (after Quistis had asked Rinoa and Squall all the questions she had about the moving forest and their forthcoming plans and after Seifer had come back with two bowls of crunchy soup), Quistis and Seifer were setting their packs down in one of the inn’s two private rooms. There was only the one bed but it was large enough to accommodate a whole family and smelled like fresh straw, so Quistis gratefully shed down to her base tunic and trews and laid on the mattress with a loud, relaxed sigh.
“You’re too trusting,” grumbled Seifer, who was still disrobing and setting his clothes out, more important in his case since he wasn’t going back into flight armor. “They’ll run off in the middle of the night again.”
“Well, if they move, they’re right next door and we’ll hear them,” said Quistis, eyes still closed.
Seifer grunted. “They can try. I’m not letting them get away a second time.”
Quistis opened her eyes. She rolled over on the bed to look at Seifer, who wasn’t putting his clothes away like she’d thought and was instead redressing in light armor. “Seifer… I know you don’t want to trust them, but you should. We’re comrades-in-arms. That means everything.”
“They broke our trust first.”
“But that’s not why you’re angry.”
Seifer drew his sword, inspecting it closely. Quistis bit her lip, but let him study the black steel blade in silence until he at last burst out with, “I have to regain my honor. This happened because I didn’t stop them last night.”
“We might not be here if you had, but the magical forest would still need attention and who knows when we would have heard about it otherwise?” As Seifer turned his sword this way and that to look for nicks or other recent imperfections, Quistis said, “You have nothing to make up for.”
He grunted, clearly not believing her. “Get some rest.”
“You’ll be of no use if you don’t get your rest either.”
“I wasn’t the one flying all day.”
Quistis sighed and rolled onto her back again. “Have it your way. Ouch!”
He looked at her sharply. “What?”
Quistis massaged the base of her neck, wincing. “Well, as you said, I was flying all day.”
He tsked but immediately sheathed his sword and came up onto the bed, imperiously gesturing with his hand in a familiar way. Quistis couldn’t be annoyed with him as she complied, turning so her back faced him. A moment later his hands were on her shoulders, his thumbs digging right into the spots that were always the most sore after long flying. He gripped like a dragon, his fingertips like claws, but with just enough pressure that it soothed instead of pained. Quistis sighed happily.
“If you’re doing this to distract me, I shan’t forgive you,” Seifer grumbled, but he didn’t sound especially unhappy as he started kneading her sore shoulders. It was definitely crossing the bounds of propriety, but Quistis didn’t care. Seifer was her comrade, her hoard, and her dragon: normal rules would never apply to them. So it was definitely alright to let him put his hands on her and also alright to be happy about it in ways Quistis would never admit to anyone…
“If I fall asleep from this, I’m going to have very interesting dreams… Not for the first time.”
But instead of pleasant daydreams, Quistis found herself thinking about how Squall and Rinoa had behaved in the common room. She knew Squall well enough to know that holding hands with someone, where strangers could see and have opinions about it, was something he’d never do without good reason. And the way he’d looked at Rinoa when she was speaking, all but shining with conviction and passion, was similarly lacking in self-consciousness. More than that, he’d looked… Happy.
“He never once looked at me like that, so why does my heart still race around him? Especially when..”
“Did you hear that?” Seifer asked suddenly, his hands stilling. Quistis murmured, not entirely cognizant until Seifer jumped off the bed, landing two-footed on the floor so he could snatch up his sword and draw it. “They’re trying to run again!”
“What?” Quistis turned too late to see Seifer throw the door open and run out into the hall. She nearly followed him but then heard a noise from the wall between her room and Squall and Rinoa’s. It was soft, but a very distinct noise and Quistis immediately clapped her hands over her mouth, horror falling on her like a thunderbolt just as Seifer kicked the door open and shouted, “AH-HAH! CAUGHT YOU!”
Rinoa shrieked. Squall yelled, which was somehow even more shocking. Then there was a moment of loud and terrible silence before Seifer bolted out and came back to Quistis, scarlet-faced and white-knuckled. He sheathed his sword with awkward speed, not meeting Quistis’s wide eyes.
“Did you even apologize?” Quistis asked as Seifer blew out the candle, instantly dropping the room into windowless darkness. The better to hide his flaming face, she supposed.
“Of course not!” The mattress pitched as he threw himself onto it: she could just imagine him folding his arms very tightly, shoulders hunching up toward his ears. “Humans are disgusting. I wasn’t going to sully my eyes a moment more. Tch! And he calls himself a knight!”
“With a matchless sword!” Rinoa shouted from the other room, which made Seifer growl and Quistis start giggling a little hysterically.
“I can’t believe you went over there,” she whispered to him.
“Stop talking about it,” Seifer seethed.
“Did you really not know—” And Quistis laughed as Seifer ripped the down-stuffed pillow out from under his head and began beating her with it. He got a few decent hits in before she began striking back with her own pillow. Despite the dark, she connected more often than not until Seifer fell out of bed with a loud thud and started swearing.
"Mercy?" Quistis asked sweetly.
"No mercy," he grunted from somewhere on the floor. "But I'll give a reprieve until you're in fighting form, in daylight."
"Very generous of you."
"Hmph." The bed shifted again as Seifer climbed back into it, settlng on his customary side (always between her and a door: it quietly warmed her that he took such pains) and finally relaxing on the mattress. She could hear it in his slowing breath and the way the mattress continued to settle as the tension left his limbs. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight," yawned Quistis, curling up on her side and drifting off as soon as the word left her lips.