These Days (FFVIII)
These Days
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters: Rinoa, Edea
Rating: PG
Notes: for churched, for her prompt in the Valentine's Day Meme: "Rinoa/Edea, "There are other ways to grow things." Sorceress meta."... which I couldn't pass up.
Some nights, Rinoa cannot sleep. Her dreams are too loud -- so loud she fears waking her neighbors (if she is in her own tiny dorm room) or Squall (if she is in his) or Ellone (if she is visiting) -- and the echoes of things in the future will not stop ringing in her ears like terrible copper-tasting bells. These are the nights she gets up and walks Garden, alone, gliding smoothly through the halls like a ghost. Sometimes the SeeDs on Night Patrol don't even look up as she passes; she feels cloaked, wrapped in shadows and silence.
These are the nights when Rinoa realizes that something inside her has built up -- she's a capacitor, slowly but surely storing magical energy, and she must use it or short-circuit. These are the nights where Squall (or sometimes Quistis, if she is due for a class) finds her in the morning, calmly packing a small overnight bag.
These are the mornings she goes to Edea.
Squall doesn't like it, but Squall doesn't understand that sometimes Rinoa needs more than a knight: they are young, untrained, and Squall doesn't yet understand how to discharge this terrible energy. He can't yet feel it growing inside her, like a hunger, only positive: positive pressure, pushing at her boundaries and bones, humming along her veins to a tune only she can hear.
These are the days she spends in town with Edea. Edea has a small cottage, on the outskirts of Balamb, not too far from the sea. Seifer stays with her sometimes, and it isn't too far from Ma Dincht, who seems to have adopted the older woman like a project. These are the days Rinoa retreats from Garden, from the hum of the mechanical walls that seem to tie her down. When the magic grows like this she cannot stand to be surrounded by machines, by parts, by soldiers who fit together like puzzles; she feels trapped inside a structure run by those sworn to kill her.
These are the days Rinoa and Edea spend in the garden.
Rinoa still finds it amusing: gardens, Gardens, growing flowers and plants like SeeDs. Edea is and always has been firmly dedicated to life: orphans, children, gardens and Garden. She is a White Sorceress, one to whom healing and life-grace come more naturally. (They do not speak of those days when the ice and darkness took over.)
And Edea shows her, slowly, without words -- for Edea only speaks in riddles when Rinoa is around; they've all noticed -- how to discharge the magic into the earth. She shows Rinoa how to use her hands to direct the current back into the ground, into the soil and the roots and the leaves. Without words, Edea explains that all magic comes from the earth, and should return to the earth.
These are the days Rinoa feels like she's part of the circle -- there's some sort of circuit, connected to her, which has been filling her with this. Rinoa returns it to the ground, back into the reservoir buzzing beneath her feet. These are the days Rinoa learns, bit by bit, about how Draw Points come into being; how the earth is full of magic, and how it is refined. She understands how the creatures of the wild can create magic from nothing. She understands how a Draw Point can blossom from such a source, like a spring of life-giving water.
And their garden grows. It is full of life: roses fill the air with sweet scent; tulips and daisies make raucously loud lines in amongst the lilies and springgrass. Sunflowers burst into color behind tiny white forget-me-nots. And the vegetables: Edea is already known in the Balamb Marketplace for her home-grown tomatoes; Ma Dincht is already known for her home-made tomato sauce.
These are the days they work in the garden, together, wordless. Two Sorceresses don't need words to communicate anyway, Rinoa has realized: it is in their hands, in their motions, in the small smiles they trade when Rinoa brings a dying seedling back to life. There is music in the water Edea sprinkles onto the ground.
These are the days Rinoa cherishes: days her magic is a gift, rather than a curse -- or a weapon, to be tooled into ferocious efficiency by the other Garden. She finds it wearying that one garden can bring her such peace. Balamb Garden only grows mercenaries and death.
There are other ways to grow things, Edea's hands tell her. There are other things to grow, as well.
These are the days Rinoa feels like a healer.
After a few days she returns to Balamb, and picks up her duties again: duties as a student of Dr. Kadowaki, as a teacher of magic, as a teacher of politics -- as Squall's girlfriend and Quistis' comrade and Selphie's partner-in-crime. The nights afterwards are blessedly empty, for a while, and Rinoa can feel like herself again.
Edea's hands tell her she will not always need this; some day, she will understand enough to fix the circuit in herself so that it does not overflow.
But Rinoa treasures these days.
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters: Rinoa, Edea
Rating: PG
Notes: for churched, for her prompt in the Valentine's Day Meme: "Rinoa/Edea, "There are other ways to grow things." Sorceress meta."... which I couldn't pass up.
Some nights, Rinoa cannot sleep. Her dreams are too loud -- so loud she fears waking her neighbors (if she is in her own tiny dorm room) or Squall (if she is in his) or Ellone (if she is visiting) -- and the echoes of things in the future will not stop ringing in her ears like terrible copper-tasting bells. These are the nights she gets up and walks Garden, alone, gliding smoothly through the halls like a ghost. Sometimes the SeeDs on Night Patrol don't even look up as she passes; she feels cloaked, wrapped in shadows and silence.
These are the nights when Rinoa realizes that something inside her has built up -- she's a capacitor, slowly but surely storing magical energy, and she must use it or short-circuit. These are the nights where Squall (or sometimes Quistis, if she is due for a class) finds her in the morning, calmly packing a small overnight bag.
These are the mornings she goes to Edea.
Squall doesn't like it, but Squall doesn't understand that sometimes Rinoa needs more than a knight: they are young, untrained, and Squall doesn't yet understand how to discharge this terrible energy. He can't yet feel it growing inside her, like a hunger, only positive: positive pressure, pushing at her boundaries and bones, humming along her veins to a tune only she can hear.
These are the days she spends in town with Edea. Edea has a small cottage, on the outskirts of Balamb, not too far from the sea. Seifer stays with her sometimes, and it isn't too far from Ma Dincht, who seems to have adopted the older woman like a project. These are the days Rinoa retreats from Garden, from the hum of the mechanical walls that seem to tie her down. When the magic grows like this she cannot stand to be surrounded by machines, by parts, by soldiers who fit together like puzzles; she feels trapped inside a structure run by those sworn to kill her.
These are the days Rinoa and Edea spend in the garden.
Rinoa still finds it amusing: gardens, Gardens, growing flowers and plants like SeeDs. Edea is and always has been firmly dedicated to life: orphans, children, gardens and Garden. She is a White Sorceress, one to whom healing and life-grace come more naturally. (They do not speak of those days when the ice and darkness took over.)
And Edea shows her, slowly, without words -- for Edea only speaks in riddles when Rinoa is around; they've all noticed -- how to discharge the magic into the earth. She shows Rinoa how to use her hands to direct the current back into the ground, into the soil and the roots and the leaves. Without words, Edea explains that all magic comes from the earth, and should return to the earth.
These are the days Rinoa feels like she's part of the circle -- there's some sort of circuit, connected to her, which has been filling her with this. Rinoa returns it to the ground, back into the reservoir buzzing beneath her feet. These are the days Rinoa learns, bit by bit, about how Draw Points come into being; how the earth is full of magic, and how it is refined. She understands how the creatures of the wild can create magic from nothing. She understands how a Draw Point can blossom from such a source, like a spring of life-giving water.
And their garden grows. It is full of life: roses fill the air with sweet scent; tulips and daisies make raucously loud lines in amongst the lilies and springgrass. Sunflowers burst into color behind tiny white forget-me-nots. And the vegetables: Edea is already known in the Balamb Marketplace for her home-grown tomatoes; Ma Dincht is already known for her home-made tomato sauce.
These are the days they work in the garden, together, wordless. Two Sorceresses don't need words to communicate anyway, Rinoa has realized: it is in their hands, in their motions, in the small smiles they trade when Rinoa brings a dying seedling back to life. There is music in the water Edea sprinkles onto the ground.
These are the days Rinoa cherishes: days her magic is a gift, rather than a curse -- or a weapon, to be tooled into ferocious efficiency by the other Garden. She finds it wearying that one garden can bring her such peace. Balamb Garden only grows mercenaries and death.
There are other ways to grow things, Edea's hands tell her. There are other things to grow, as well.
These are the days Rinoa feels like a healer.
After a few days she returns to Balamb, and picks up her duties again: duties as a student of Dr. Kadowaki, as a teacher of magic, as a teacher of politics -- as Squall's girlfriend and Quistis' comrade and Selphie's partner-in-crime. The nights afterwards are blessedly empty, for a while, and Rinoa can feel like herself again.
Edea's hands tell her she will not always need this; some day, she will understand enough to fix the circuit in herself so that it does not overflow.
But Rinoa treasures these days.