Work Text:
Sixteen years, long, fruitful, terrible, short, awful, painful, wonderful, glorious years. When by happenstance, she had fallen into his life in the haphazard way that these things often happened. He had seen nothing of its like before, when all of history hinged upon a single moment that was, in itself, simple random chance. Looking back now it was difficult to keep tears from his eyes. Were he a younger version of himself he may be tempted then to hide them. But the small house was filled with the soft sniffling that his reminiscence had brought about.
As if reading his thoughts a soft clatter of porcelain landed at his elbow upon the desk he seated facing the window looking out on the near beach and the endless glittering ocean, and distantly, Balamb, just a green impression upon the horizon. He reached across with his hand and slid the softly steaming cup of tea in front of him. His ungloved hands wrapping around the cup and borrowing its warmth. His fingers were cold so often now and the gloves he had worn as an affectation that felt like so little time ago had slowly become needed. The hand upon his arm, just at the shoulder as he heard her lean down to press her cheek into his face.
“No sugar, and just a bit of cream.” her soft voice spoke just above a whisper, seemingly unwilling to break the near silence of their home. He let out a soft sigh that was nearly a laugh.
“Thank you.” Raising his hand, warmed by the cup to lay over hers as the other brought the cup to his lips and sipped carefully.
“Alright?” she asked, her tone open. He turned his face away from her a moment, to gather his thoughts. Once she would have pressed, but now she waited. Two breaths, then five.
“Time. Has it really been seventeen years?” He asked his thumb gently rubbing her knuckles.
He felt more than heard her laugh. But he continued, the words coming from him slowly, but gaining speed.
“My whole life so sharply divided, before and after… You… We’ve been together as long as I had been alive when it began.” his grip on her hand tightened fractionally.
“We promised.” she said simply and he swallowed a sharp sob, though this was not of melancholy. He squeezed his eyes shut and set down the cup of tea lest he drop it. Her fingers tightened on his shoulder and her other hand came up to gently cup his face. He turned to face her as she pulled just a little away. She was blurry through the unshed tears. She was smiling. Though the lines were just beginning to show at the corners of her eyes, her hair was browner now than it had been, the uncommon streaks peppering through her hair. But her eyes still held such warmth.
“We promised.” the words nearly caught in his throat. But he spoke them. She let go of his chin and gently wiped the tears from his face.
“Timber stands strong.” The occupation was ended with the end of the war, but the tiny city had floundered until finding its footing with the help of those who had learned the way of the world. SeeDs brought growth, it had taken three years until the first senate had formed of all the members of the city.
“Galbadia’s drums are silent.” He answered, the old stratocracy of Galbadia was broken, its leaders brought to answer for their actions under Deling and after. The people ruled themselves now, the streets were bright and safe. A girl could grow up without the shadow of war or politics crushing the life from the citizenry. It had taken five years.
“Esthar’s walls fell.” Squall’s voice firmed, his emotional state refirming. And Rinoa nodded. Through Laguna, an old man now, they had broken the technological hoard of the ruling elite. Bit by bit, the lifesaving and freeing works Esthar had devised had spread across the globe. The cartels that had so jealously guarded their secrets had been undermined, It had taken four years.
“I resigned.” He said, looking past her to the wall behind her, just a glance, to where his gunblade hung upon the wall, behind glass. That was three years ago.
“I love you.” Rinoa said laying a hand on his cheek and kissing his forehead just between his eyebrows.
“I’ll protect your heart, forever.” He could feel the coolness of the metal around her finger. He sipped his tea.
“I know you will. Come to bed, when you’re done. The light is fading.” He looked back to her as she pulled her hand away. Her smile was mischievous she winked and raised one finger as she swept out of the room. He watched her go. She had been so slight, a warrior like he had been, though softer. In body and soul. Now though her hardness had worn away. No need of great muscle without a war to fight. Allowed to be herself she walked in the sun and had taken up woodworking. The very chair he sat in was one she’d made. Her hair always past her shoulders was tied low with a blue bow. Her skin was sun-kissed now. As she walked barefoot across the hardwood floors, a spring in her step.
“I love you.” He breathed, and she slowed slightly, pausing as though a breeze had washed over her, before she rounded the corner and headed up the stairs.
He looked back upon the desk where the manuscript lay half written, covered in notes and editing marks all in his hand. Life had caught him unaware. When it was written out in front of him, it felt so… compressed. And even now with each exhalation it seemed to expand, as his future opened before him. To be more than a tool, a weapon. Now, he could just be Squall. He pushed away from his desk, quickly drinking the rest of the cup of tea. He would clean the cup later.
His wife was waiting for him.