Never Forgotten
Title: Never Forgotten
Author: Lucifer Hisaki (mercy_slays/luciferhisaki)
Rating: PG
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer Almasy/Irvine Kinneas, squint to see Seifer/Irvine/Squall
Summary: In which Seifer stares at a grave stone until Irvine finds him there.
Disclaimer: You do not have a legal suit for the whole FF8 thing. So don't even try.
Word Count: 685
Notes: Could be considered a sequel to “Preparing Twilight”
For: springkink's June 8th: Final Fantasy VIII, Seifer/Irvine: memory - "But we never forgot."
Never Forgotten
Seifer didn’t glance up when he heard his lover come up behind him. He was too focused on the headstone in front of him. Dressed in SeeD Commander blues, he refrained from messing up his gelled back blond hair out of frustration, nervousness and sorrow. Hyperion laid beside him in her sheath. Underneath was Lionheart, newly polished and sharpened. “We knew this was happening but the bastard had to go anyway, huh?”
Irvine chuckled lightly without humour, resting a hand on Seifer’s shoulder, “I know. He probably didn’t want to go the way he did.”
“No, he probably rather I did it for him or just in a blaze of glory,” Seifer replied quietly, bowing his head, “Or maybe he went the way he wanted to.” He wasn’t serious much but he felt he had to be just this once. If it was someone else, he would spit on the grass underneath him but he held so much respect for him, not that he outwardly showed it much.
“I think I remember a time when he burst out, saying he never wanted to be forgotten,” the cowboy started with a shrug, kneeling next to Seifer in front of the grave, “It was after we thought you were dead. Executed, whatever. He was, for the lack of a better description, hysterical. I don’t think he heard anything we said after he left the room.” Seifer could see a half-smile on Irvine’s face.
He laughed, more honest humour lacing the sounds, “I would think he rather I was dead back then. I did almost kill him.” Seifer touched the scar on his face, crestfallen for a moment. “You were the only one who beat me, Puberty Boy. Should’ve known you were the first to see the dirt when I thought I will be.” He stood up, dusting off his knees. “Come on. Quisty needs us back on Garden.”
Irvine nodded, pressing a hand on the engraved lettering of the marble grave. It only held a name and a few dates. Nothing more, just like he would’ve wanted it. Standing, he smirked slightly, not bothering to brush the dirt from his SeeD uniform’s pants. “Right behind you, Commander. Right behind you.”
Seifer stepped back, leaning down to pick up the gunblades. “You’d probably want to be buried with it, Squally boy but this will have to do.” Seifer smugly grinned, eyes bright and moist, thrusting Lionheart tip first into the grass until it stood defiantly against gravity.
“Let’s go. We’ll be back. Soon.” Irvine turned and waked away but not before Seifer caught a glimpse of redness in his lover’s eyes.
The blond cocked his head to the side, “You won’t be forgotten. You won’t be just a name. I’ll see you soon, Leonhart. Real soon. Maybe not like this, maybe like this. I don’t know. I’ll take care of your kiddies, princess and dad. Don’t worry about that.”
He turned and left without a second glance at the grave.
Night fell and the moon rose. In the darkness, a shadowy figure grasped the hilt of Lionheart and pulled it out before disappearing into the ground, taking the blade. The evening froze around the grave before life resumed like nothing had happened. Yet if one looked closely, the grass became frozen with ice crystals and white filled the lettering of the stone marker.
A lion roared in the distance. An ice goddess smiled soberly before snow fell from the sky on a hot June night.
In the town of Balamb, no one forgotten the grave and the body it housed on the outskirts. Stories of the man who fought a sorceress and help save the world; the same man who became the greatest commander of SeeD had ever seen, the son of the legendary President of Esthar who was crowned the Lion of Balamb continued to circle until tale became legends, but not myths for all of them were true and lies were quickly smothered into the darkness of icy nights.
“But we never forgot Squall Leonhart,” was always the last line of each of the legends said.
End?
Author: Lucifer Hisaki (mercy_slays/luciferhisaki)
Rating: PG
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer Almasy/Irvine Kinneas, squint to see Seifer/Irvine/Squall
Summary: In which Seifer stares at a grave stone until Irvine finds him there.
Disclaimer: You do not have a legal suit for the whole FF8 thing. So don't even try.
Word Count: 685
Notes: Could be considered a sequel to “Preparing Twilight”
For: springkink's June 8th: Final Fantasy VIII, Seifer/Irvine: memory - "But we never forgot."
Never Forgotten
Seifer didn’t glance up when he heard his lover come up behind him. He was too focused on the headstone in front of him. Dressed in SeeD Commander blues, he refrained from messing up his gelled back blond hair out of frustration, nervousness and sorrow. Hyperion laid beside him in her sheath. Underneath was Lionheart, newly polished and sharpened. “We knew this was happening but the bastard had to go anyway, huh?”
Irvine chuckled lightly without humour, resting a hand on Seifer’s shoulder, “I know. He probably didn’t want to go the way he did.”
“No, he probably rather I did it for him or just in a blaze of glory,” Seifer replied quietly, bowing his head, “Or maybe he went the way he wanted to.” He wasn’t serious much but he felt he had to be just this once. If it was someone else, he would spit on the grass underneath him but he held so much respect for him, not that he outwardly showed it much.
“I think I remember a time when he burst out, saying he never wanted to be forgotten,” the cowboy started with a shrug, kneeling next to Seifer in front of the grave, “It was after we thought you were dead. Executed, whatever. He was, for the lack of a better description, hysterical. I don’t think he heard anything we said after he left the room.” Seifer could see a half-smile on Irvine’s face.
He laughed, more honest humour lacing the sounds, “I would think he rather I was dead back then. I did almost kill him.” Seifer touched the scar on his face, crestfallen for a moment. “You were the only one who beat me, Puberty Boy. Should’ve known you were the first to see the dirt when I thought I will be.” He stood up, dusting off his knees. “Come on. Quisty needs us back on Garden.”
Irvine nodded, pressing a hand on the engraved lettering of the marble grave. It only held a name and a few dates. Nothing more, just like he would’ve wanted it. Standing, he smirked slightly, not bothering to brush the dirt from his SeeD uniform’s pants. “Right behind you, Commander. Right behind you.”
Seifer stepped back, leaning down to pick up the gunblades. “You’d probably want to be buried with it, Squally boy but this will have to do.” Seifer smugly grinned, eyes bright and moist, thrusting Lionheart tip first into the grass until it stood defiantly against gravity.
“Let’s go. We’ll be back. Soon.” Irvine turned and waked away but not before Seifer caught a glimpse of redness in his lover’s eyes.
The blond cocked his head to the side, “You won’t be forgotten. You won’t be just a name. I’ll see you soon, Leonhart. Real soon. Maybe not like this, maybe like this. I don’t know. I’ll take care of your kiddies, princess and dad. Don’t worry about that.”
He turned and left without a second glance at the grave.
Night fell and the moon rose. In the darkness, a shadowy figure grasped the hilt of Lionheart and pulled it out before disappearing into the ground, taking the blade. The evening froze around the grave before life resumed like nothing had happened. Yet if one looked closely, the grass became frozen with ice crystals and white filled the lettering of the stone marker.
A lion roared in the distance. An ice goddess smiled soberly before snow fell from the sky on a hot June night.
In the town of Balamb, no one forgotten the grave and the body it housed on the outskirts. Stories of the man who fought a sorceress and help save the world; the same man who became the greatest commander of SeeD had ever seen, the son of the legendary President of Esthar who was crowned the Lion of Balamb continued to circle until tale became legends, but not myths for all of them were true and lies were quickly smothered into the darkness of icy nights.
“But we never forgot Squall Leonhart,” was always the last line of each of the legends said.
End?