Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

One: Love.

A light breeze ruffled the fine strands of snowy fur along his collar, causing the tips to sway gently from side to side. The motion mimicked the swaying of the flowers in the field: left, right, left, right. Soft, white tufts of dandelion seeds drifted through the air. If Centra's climate wasn't always arid, Squall thought that they might have easily been mistaken for snowflakes.

He stood there, in their field, and breathed in the sweet scent of fragrant blossoms. In all of the years that had passed since they'd first stood here, and he'd promised to always be there for her, this field hadn't changed. They'd changed. But this field remained ever the same, predictable in its constant beauty.

He supposed that they had Matron to thank for that. Though she'd aged-as they all inevitably did-since the end of the second Sorceress War, she would always be regal in her elegance, forever the epitome of true kindness. When he and Rinoa had gotten married, this field had been her gift to them.

When Edea had begun to suspect that Ultimecia was trying to possess her, she'd used her magic to ensure that this field would always remain as it was. The beauty of it comforted her. It served as a reminder of who she'd been, before the sorceress from the future manipulated her, changed her into someone that she wasn't. Rinoa had explained that she felt the same way-they both felt the same way, about this field. Edea had smiled then and told the younger sorceress of what she'd done, many years prior, and promised that for as long as they wanted, the field was theirs to enjoy.

Every year, on their wedding anniversary in the spring, they flew out to the Orphanage. They'd stay there for the weekend, and spend some much needed time together, away from the hecticness of Garden.

Squall's position as Commander took up most of his time, and Rinoa often felt like she was being pushed further and further down his list of priorities. Though he'd tried to convince her that wasn't the case, she always reminded him that actions spoke louder than words. That was simply how she felt, which in the world of women, meant that it was also the truth.

So their annual anniversary trip was Squall's opportunity to make amends for the past year and remind Rinoa exactly how much she meant to him. If he had to be honest, it wasn't something he could easily say, not even after five years together. He'd never been verbose, and even after being around his ever-so-talkative wife for so long, that fact hadn't changed.

In the midst of the field, more than a few yards away, stood his sorceress, his soulmate-the word 'wife' almost didn't do her justice. Though they'd both outgrown their trademark outfits-she, her blue floor-length duster, and he, his completely black leather ensemble-Rinoa had decided to don her familiar knitted get-up for memories' sake, especially since they were here. In the past, he would've rolled his eyes at her hopeless romanticism. Now, however, he found that he too looked back on the way they used to be with fondness. After all, their pasts were what kept them connected; it was part of the glue that held them together. That much, he couldn't deny.

She reached up then and brushed a loose strand of her flowing, raven hair behind her ear. When she lowered her hand to her side, the ring on her left finger glinted in the sunlight. It was visible even from where Squall was standing farther back, flanked by massive marble columns that had long since crumbled. Her duster cascaded down her back, and the hemline floated lightly in the wind, rising before lowering again in a gentle, relaxed manner.

Squall took a step forward, off of the flagstones that comprised the broken and scattered walkway, and trudged down the miniscule dirt path that wound through the flowers. He walked at a slow pace, languid almost. This was their first night on their weekend getaway, and the point of it all was to take their time, to try to enjoy each other's company without thoughts of anything else haunting them.

Eventually, he approached Rinoa and came to a stop, a foot away. She turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder.

Her soft, melodic voice called out to him then. "Were you trying to sneak up on me, Mr. Leonhart?"

He chuckled and closed the distance between them, his footsteps still silent, impossible to hear even with his thick boots on.

Some things faded with time: memories of his childhood, the fear and apprehension he'd felt when he took his first SeeD field exam. What didn't fade, however, were the habits and skills that he had picked up during training: how to remain silent when you didn't want to be heard or how to manipulate people. The fact that it became second nature to him, to rise before the sun did, drove Rinoa crazy.

There were some things that time could never erase though, like the fact that his movements were nearly always silent, no matter where they were, or what they were doing. But most of those unforgettable things revolved around his wife. As he wrapped his arms around her and propped his chin up against her pale shoulder, he thought back to the first time they'd met, in Garden's ballroom, during the SeeD graduation ball.

Rinoa had worn an ivory dress that night that did little to hide the natural curves that she had. She'd somehow convinced him to dance with her, one of the many skills he'd learned as a SeeD that he'd sworn he would never use. In just a few minutes, she'd somehow made him fall in love with her at first sight. Of course, true to form, the next time they'd met, she'd driven him crazy with her incessant badgering and spoiled attitude. Then, over the course of the following months, she'd gotten him to care about her, chipping away at the block of ice that sat in place of his heart, a little more each time.

And now, here they were, standing in the place where they'd promised to always find each other, no matter what stood in the way. He never would've guessed that she'd bring him back from the brink of death after the battle against Ultimecia. Nor could he have predicted all of the ways she'd saved him since they'd said 'I do'. Sure, it was seemingly small ways, like bringing him a roll of toilet paper when he was in the bathroom and ran out. Or with the soft kisses she placed on his lips every morning when she rolled over and woke. Not even all of the times he was violently ripped from the dark embrace of a deep slumber by nightmares that haunted him more often than he cared to admit to anyone else. With Rinoa though, he never had to admit anything because he never had to hide anything. She was the one person in the world who would always accept him, and in turn, he would always accept her. Since he was a child, he'd hid behind the thick walls he'd erected to protect himself from the outside world. She had saved him by pulling him from his shell and molded him into a normal human being. Or at least, as much of a normal human being that the Commander of one-third of the world's strongest mercenary force could be.

Because she was his sorceress, and he her knight.

She pressed herself further into his arms and leaned the side of her head against his, sighing in content. Hesitantly, he lowered his hands to rest on her lower abdomen, cradling the slight bump that one wouldn't have noticed was there if they hadn't already known.

Gently, she placed her hands on top of his, her diamond solitaire ring sparkling in contrast to his darker metal band. His was simple and yet refined, much like the man she saw him as. The diamond on hers represented the way that he saw her: a single, lone, shining star in the night sky that he had been unable to look away from. Not since the first moment that he met her. When the rings were placed together, the picture they painted was identical to the one that people saw when the sorceress and her knight stood side by side. A perfect fit, forever complementing one another, protecting one another, supporting each other.

Squall turned his head and nuzzled the side of her neck. In a voice so soft Rinoa thought she imagined it, he whispered, "I love you."

Tears welled up in her eyes at the three words she always loved to hear that he rarely uttered. Her eyes slid shut, as she reveled in the perfect moment that they'd been given, amidst the chaos of their lives.

"Oh, Squall. I love you too."

Chapter Text

Two: Light

Emptiness.

It surrounded him. All that he knew and felt, was emptiness.

How long had he been walking? How long had it been since he'd seen the faces of his friends? Of the woman he loved?

Sometime in the last few weeks, he'd come to the realization that yes, he did love her. It might have been when he threw all caution to the wind and jumped into space for her. No, he knew for a fact that had been the moment. When he'd held her in his arms in the Ragnarok's cockpit, and shared more of himself with her than he ever had with anyone else, he knew that she now held his heart within her grasp.

Her beautiful visage floated through his mind and he knew it so well, it almost felt like he could reach out and trace his finger down the edges of her soft features, through the fine strands of her long, raven hair. But when he lifted his hand to do so, all it met was empty air and he dropped it to his side again, dejected.

He continued to walk, placing one foot in front of the other. The repetitive action had become monotonous and he asked himself, Why am I even doing this? Where am I even going?

His eyes that were the same cold shade as steel, tinged with the cool azure tone of a sea ravaged by a storm, flickered from left to right. There had to be some hint at which direction he should go. He'd kept to a straight line, figuring that eventually, he'd have to come across something.

Minutes, hours, maybe even days later-it was impossible to tell-he still hadn't seen a single person, nor a single landmark. Just the ever expansive emptiness that he'd become so accustomed to. His steps began to falter, but he continued to push on. It was all that he could do.

After what felt like ages, his determination faded and with his head bowed, his steps slowed even more until he was barely moving. As he forced himself to take the next few steps, he realized that he'd reached the edge of a cliff. Beyond that cliff, was a swirling grey mass-more emptiness.

With a sigh, Squall turned and looked back the way he had come. Instead of seeing the sprawling desert-like landscape that he'd trekked through, the emptiness that haunted him had closed in. He was alone still, floating through the void on an island made of rock.

Disbelief and exhaustion swept over him and he collapsed, landing hard on the surface. His vision swam, fading in and out of focus as he swayed back and forth, finding it difficult to keep his body upright. For a reason that he couldn't explain, Squall glanced upwards at what should have been the sky. A single white feather floated down and he reached out, catching it in his gloved hand.

When he curled his fingers around it, he was no longer alone on the rock, but standing in their flower field, beyond the orphanage. The sky was an odd, luminescent amber, with no sun or clouds that he could see. It resembled the color of the sky when a fire had ravaged the landscape, only to fade within two days' time. It unsettled him. With eyes widened in shock, he frantically glanced around and spotted Rinoa in the far distance, with her back turned to him.

He called out her name-not just once, but twice. After what felt like forever, she finally turned and faced him, her rosy lips curving upwards in a gentle smile. The relief that ran through Squall then, didn't last long.

The image of her face began to blur right in front of his eyes and he frowned, realizing that something was wrong. Memories flashed through his mind, in rapid succession: the first night he'd met her at the SeeD graduation ball in Garden's ballroom. Then the night in Deling, when Ultimecia, through the guise of Edea, had controlled her like a puppet. With every new scene, Rinoa's faced became more and more distorted. More visions assaulted him in quick succession, until finally, he could no longer keep the images straight. There were glimpses of the entire gang, of Seifer, of Ultimecia, but most of all Rinoa.

The last image he saw, was Rinoa in space, the glass visor of her spacesuit shattered into a million tiny shards. A single tear fell from Squall's eye then, and he fell backwards, losing consciousness.

Light...it's...so bright. What…?

The warm glow of the sun beat down on Squall's face, something he didn't think he'd ever feel again. Hesitantly, he cracked an eye open and immediately shut it, regretting his hasty decision. He'd seen a glimpse of the bright, blue sky, and felt relief flood through him. The churning grey emptiness hadn't been there, and so it meant that he was back...no longer trapped in time compression.

He opened his eyes again, slower this time, and saw the side of Rinoa's face, her ebony hair flowing in the breeze. This was a sight he'd seen before, when he was stuck in the void, and he didn't trust his eyes to tell him the truth.

He reached up to run his fingers through the shining, silky strands and was shocked to find that she didn't disappear. Instead, she turned back to look down at him and her mouth fell open in surprise.

His eyebrows furrowed and he spoke then, his voice raspy and rough from lack of use. "R-Rinoa?" he asked, wishing more than anything that she was actually here in front of him.

Her beautiful, chocolate brown eyes welled up with unshed tears and a relieved smile spread across her face. With a cry, she buried her face in his chest. He could feel her tears soaking through his thin white shirt and with stiff joints, he wrapped his arm around her, embracing her as tight as he could.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he murmured her name into her hair as he breathed in her familiar smell of vanilla and roses. The beautiful scent had haunted him while he was lost in the barren wasteland of time compression, but this time, he could prove that it was real. That she was real.

When he opened his eyes again, he gazed up at the wispy clouds that floated by. The comforting warmth of the sun soaked through his leather jacket and it was more soothing than he could have put into words. Petals and dandelion seeds floated through the air and to his surprise, he felt his eyes well up with tears as well. He couldn't remember the last time that he had cried.

Here though, with the woman that he loved in his arms, and the light that shined within her surrounding him, he knew that he was home.

Chapter Text

Three: Dark

. . . clack clack clack . . . clack . . . clack clack . . .

The eerie glow of his computer screen reflected off of his steel blue irises, turning his already pale skin into an even sicklier shade. His chestnut-brown tresses hung low over his bloodshot, tired eyes, their normally silky strands now tangled in disarray. He paused his typing to reach up and rub his hands over his face, and a sigh that sounded like it had been wrenched from the depths of his soul left him.

Two weeks had passed since they'd defeated Ultimecia. He didn't know what it was exactly that he was expecting would change—he just figured something would. But of course, nothing had.

Paperwork had covered his desk even during the war, the piles reaching ever higher with each passing day. After the war however, paperwork had become the very definition of his everyday life. It had trickled in, slowly at first, until it started coming in droves and drowned him behind towering stacks of dead trees.

These Hyne-damned reports were the very reason he was still sitting at his desk at 2:14 in the morning. The rest of Garden had long since gone to bed, likely tucked into their standard issue twin-sized beds. And here he was...staring blankly into a luminescent glass screen, surrounded by the soft hum of electronics, in the pitch-black darkness of his office.

With another sigh, he dragged the next report over to him and started to enter it into the computer, when his office door opened—softly enough that if he hadn't been trained to always be on his guard, he wouldn't have heard it.

His hand drifted down to the leather handle of Lionheart, its shimmering azure blade catching hints of illumination from the computer as it shifted under his grasp. As the figure approached his desk, he recognized the trail of knitted sky-blue fabric that undulated behind her with every step she took, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Rinoa. What are you doing up so late?" he whispered.

Why he was whispering, he couldn't say. Perhaps it was the utter darkness his office was cloaked in right now, or maybe because it was so far into the night. Whatever the reason, his sorceress had apparently picked up on the same thing, for she also whispered her reply.

"I can't sleep without you Squall, you know that. You're still working?" Her soft, gentle voice drifted over him, like a much-needed cool breeze that just happened to pick up during the height of a sweltering summer day. He didn't know how she brought him so much comfort, but he wasn't going to complain either.

"Yeah. There's tons of paperwork to get through," he replied, his gaze sliding back over to concentrate on the computer screen once again.

Rinoa let out a small sigh before ambling around the desk to stand behind his chair. She placed her hands on his shoulders, her touch light as a feather. Briefly, he reached up and wrapped his callused fingers around hers, squeezing just a little bit before he let go and resumed his typing.

Her slender fingers began to move in a circular motion, kneading his tense muscles with surprising strength. Squall let out a quiet groan as he tilted his head back for a moment, feeling the stress practically ooze from his body. She giggled under her breath at him for a second, before she stopped and pulled his chair out from under the desk.

"Rin, what are you doing?" he mumbled, his gaze heavy-lidded on hers, even if he didn't fully understand why.

"Distracting you. What does it look like?" she asked coyly, her rosy lips turning up in an innocent smile.

"You do realize that the more you distract me, the longer this is going to take, right?" he rebutted.

"Yes, but...you look like you're about to collapse from both exhaustion and stress, Squall. You need to learn to take a break every now and then," she tried to convince him.

He scoffed, though it was without derision, as he wrapped his arms around her slim waist, leaning his head on her stomach. She ran her dexterous fingers through his hair, working her way through the knots and tangles he'd caused from brushing it away from his face multiple times throughout the night.

They sat there for a minute or two, just reveling in each other's presence.

Eventually, Squall lifted his head and gazed up at Rinoa—his Rinoa—as the corners of his lips curled upwards in a miniscule smile. Even though she'd seen his first smile only a couple of weeks before, on the balcony by the ballroom, the rare sight still took her breath away.

Her expression mirrored his easily and she brought her hand down from his unruly hair to cradle his cheek, tracing along his cheekbone with her thumb. He leaned his face into her palm, sighing in content.

Slowly, she sank down onto her knees so that she could stare into his mesmerizing eyes. Placing her hands on his knees, it was her turn to gaze up at him with love and adoration in her warm eyes.

Every time she looked at him that way, he found that his heart felt like it was going to stop beating in his chest because it stuttered so much. This time, he was the one to cradle her heart-shaped face in his rough hands. At an agonizingly lethargic pace, he lowered his head to hers and they both closed their eyes in anticipation of what was about to happen.

His surprisingly soft lips brushed against hers and a shock sparked through her, causing her to gasp. If she hadn't been able to feel his emotions through their bond, she might've easily mistaken it for a Thunder spell—the chemistry between them was that intense.

As their kiss deepened and his tongue stroked along the edge of hers, waves of overwhelming passion washed over her. Mere seconds later, she broke the kiss and leaned her cheek against his, her chest heaving up and down as she gasped for air.

Squall's fingers sifted through her hair, coming to a stop at the base of her skull as he cradled her head in his hand. His breaths came in quick bursts as well; he was affected just as much as she was by their connection.

Their bond was both a blessing and a curse. It allowed them to feel every emotion that coursed through each other, whether it be the intense rush of anger or the slow-burning fire of passion that had swept through her just now.

Once their breathing had returned to normal, she leaned back as he straightened in his chair, his eyes trapping hers in an intense gaze. Hesitantly she asked, "Are we going to feel that way every time we kiss?"

"I don't know," he replied, his expression thoughtful.

"I mean, I'm not complaining but...I can only take so much before I need a break," Rinoa joked.

The closest thing to a laugh that could come out of Squall Leonhart's mouth did so then, and she smiled at the sound. One of these days, she'd get him to really laugh.

Rinoa got to her feet, placing her hands in his. After pressing a chaste kiss on his lips, she traipsed over to the door and once she'd opened it, faced him again.

"Don't stay up too much longer, okay?" she pretended to reprimand him over her shoulder, her hand wrapped around the wooden door's edge.

"I'll try," he said.

The corners of her lips teased upwards in a smile before she left the room, the massive door shutting softly behind her. Squall remained behind his desk, his fingers interlaced and propped under his chin as he stared at the door that his sorceress had just walked out of.

After a few minutes, his eyes returned to the monitor for the millionth time, but he found that he could no longer concentrate. Rinoa had drifted into the room—into his life—bringing the brilliant light of her presence with her and permeating the darkness that had saturated not only his office, but his entire existence. This feeling of disorientation, of shifting his focus from the empty, barren wasteland of his prior life to the vibrancy of hers, refused to let him go.

With something akin to a chuckle at the fact that she'd succeeded in convincing him to come to bed, he shut off his computer and grabbed Lionheart, making his way to the door. If he was lucky, she'd still be awake by the time he got back to their room.

Chapter Text

"...Seriously, Rinoa? I don't have time for that right now, I've got these repo—"

Rinoa frowned and pushed her lower lip out, showcasing to Squall just how well she knew how to pout. She dropped her arms, resting the box in her hands on her stomach as she stared up at him with puppy-dog eyes.

The stoic commander sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, willing Hyne to give him an overabundance of patience on this day in particular. His arm fell back down to his side and he gazed down at his girlfriend, who transformed her frown into a hopeful smile. His steel-blue eyes flitted down to the box, then back up to her face.

"How many pieces is it?"

"Not that much! Only a thousand!" she reassured.

"Only a thousand…" he trailed off and sighed again, crossing his arms over his chest. "Fine. I'll do it if you help. The last time you convinced me to do a puzzle together, I did all of it."

Rinoa scoffed and rolled her eyes before turning her back on Squall and walking out to the center of his office. "That's not fair! I did at least fifteen-percent of it," she retorted, crouching down and sitting cross-legged on the plush carpet.

"Fifteen-percent, huh? So, what you're saying is that I still did about eighty-five percent," he replied, sitting in the same position across from her.

"In that case, you didn't do all of it then, did you?" she teased, grinning up at him as she pulled the top off of the puzzle box.

The puzzle itself was a watercolor-styled landscape of Timber in the early morning. Golden rays of sunshine peeked up and over the silhouette of the Timber Hotel, which was lit up from within; the illumination from the hotel windows contrasted with the natural, pale light of the morning sun. Hazy figures trailed across the sidewalk in front of the building and the vibrant shades of their clothing rounded out the color palette of the piece.

Squall had to admit that Rinoa had good taste in choosing puzzles. If she made him do some sort of childish puzzle, he'd go insane. Like a puzzle with a picture of Boko the Chocobo, the one who sang and danced on some children's television show that ran on Saturday mornings in Dollet. He cringed when he thought of poor Irvine—that's probably exactly what Selphie made him do. Except, knowing the cowboy, he probably enjoyed every second of it.

Once the lid was off, Rinoa dumped the pieces onto the floor between them and propped the lid up on the other half of the box, so that they could see what the final product would look like. She ran her hands over the pieces to spread them out and began to flip over the ones that had fallen upside down. Squall leaned down and followed suit, and the pair continued righting the pieces in companionable silence.

That was one of the things that Squall appreciated the most about Rinoa. There were many things, of course, but the fact that she seemed to inherently know when and when not to say anything was at the top of the long list. He had enough senseless chatter in his life from Zell and Selphie, so being able to just be around Rinoa, without the added pressure of piping up every few minutes so everyone didn't think he'd zoned out, was something he was incredibly grateful for.

He paused and watched her as she finished her half of the pile with a childlike smile of pure excitement on her face, and a smaller—though no less happy—smile graced his own face.

She glanced up and met his gaze and a slight blush spread across her cheeks, the corners of her rosy pink lips still curved upwards. "What?"

Squall shook his head and looked back down at the remaining upside-down puzzle pieces in front of him. "Nothing."

"Oh please, it's not nothing. Was there something on my face?" she pressed.

The warm flush of embarrassment rushed up his neck and over his face and he muttered, "I just thought you looked...beautiful…while you were, you know. You were excited and—"

Her knees came into his view and he glanced up sharply, noticing that she was now kneeling right beside him. She leaned down and planted a quick, chaste kiss on his cheek, causing the heat under his skin to flare even warmer.

"Wha…" he trailed off.

"Thanks, Squall," she whispered.

"Yeah, whatever. Can we just start this puzzle so I can get back to work?" he mumbled, his voice gruff. Though he would've sounded mean to anyone else, he knew that Rinoa understood him better by now and that she knew he was just flustered.

Instead of scooting back over to the other side of the room, she plopped down next to him and pulled her knees up in front of her, wrapping her arms around them. "Okay, so...I say we start with the middle."

Squall raised his eyebrow at her and quipped, "Why would we do that? Starting in the middle gives you no structure, no direct path to the finish line. If we start with the edges and fill in as we go around, the puzzle will basically finish itself."

Rinoa rolled her eyes and let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Ever the mighty strategist. Fine, fine. We'll start with the corners."

Squall nodded, satisfied that she saw the logic in his statement, and studied the lid of the puzzle box intently for a few minutes. He turned back to the mess of pieces in front of him and reached out, brushing a few of them aside and grabbing one in between his fingers. After placing it at the bottom left corner, he stared at the picture again for a few silent seconds, before reaching out and grabbing another one.

Rinoa watched him work with a smile on her face as she rested her cheek on her bare knee. As much as he hemmed and hawed about being 'forced to participate in these sorts of activities', he always got into them and did them perfectly. She imagined the ambitious, driven soldier that he was didn't allow him to aim for "second best"; It was all or nothing for Commander Leonhart.

Squall worked in silence and a few minutes later, she started to feel sleepy. He won't notice if...I just close my eyes for a second...right?

. . .

. . .

"Rinoa…"

. . .

"Rin…?"

. . .

"Hey…"

The motion of her leg being shaken from side to side startled her, and she shot upright, her eyes flying open. Squall's hand was on her knee and he was staring at her with an eyebrow raised.

"Wha...What?" Rinoa mumbled, wiping the side of her cheek with the heel of her palm.

"You fell asleep," Squall noted.

"Yeah, I guess I did...Sorry about that!" she apologized with a sheepish smile. Rocking forward onto her knees, she peered over his shoulder and asked, "How's the puzzle going?"

When she saw the finished landscape of Timber, her eyes widened and she gasped in indignation. "You already finished?! Why didn't you wake me up sooner?" she exclaimed.

He shrugged and said, "Didn't I say I usually was the one who finished the puzzles? Besides, you looked tired."

Rinoa pouted again and complained, "But I wanted to do this one together…"

In an uncharacteristic bout of good-natured ribbing, Squall flicked the tip of her nose and teased, "Maybe you shouldn't fall asleep next time and we can."

She tightened her lips for a second before a wide grin spread across her face. "Oooh, can we pick a bigger one, then? Maybe one of the ones that Selphie always finds of Boko? You have to admit that he's adorable..."

A sigh left the commander and for the second time in the span of a few hours, he pinched the bridge of his nose again.