| Sword and Sorcery -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- by J. Marie Warning!!!! This is a lemon yaoi fanfiction starring Seifer Almasy and Squall Leonhart of Final Fantasy VIII. It is rated NC-17. If male homosexuality offends you, then too damn bad. If you're not 18, you shouldn't be reading this story. But you'll probably do it anyways. Anyways this is the kiriban request for Drygonrose, my 20000th hit!! Thanks!! Anyways, Drygonrose wanted a nice explicit, romantic, AU fic set in another time. Next thing I know, I start cooking this up. You can say I got a little carried away. But I'm having fun being carried away. The person carrying me is soooo cute!! ^_~ So, this story is definitely AU. Let's just say that if Squaresoft had given me the FF8 charas and said "Here, write a fantasy story about them." this is what I woulda wrote. It is set in medieval fantasy times, and is a nice, classic, sword and sorcery (hence the title) story, only with a nice touch of angst and it's most certainly yaoi. Not to be bitchy or anything, but since this is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE fiction, I don't wanna hear any whining about things not being like they were in the game. I don't change characters, but I DO modify their background as needed. Now, in the case of Edea in this story, we'll just say that the whole Ultimecia thing was a bad dream, and leave Edea as the wicked woman tainted by dark powers, as she appeared to be before the idea of Ultimecia came in. Personally, I thought Edea made a WICKED villain (in every sense). Ultimecia was underdeveloped and stupid looking. And the whole idea of Edea as the kids' Matron was just silly. Why go and ruin a perfectly good villainess? And since I AM the author, you can kiss Ultimecia good-bye, and say hello to a much darker, and far more villainous Edea. I'm doing her up in grand style. Don't like the idea? Don't read the story!!! Quite obviously, this has nothing to do with my other FF8 stories. Well, Drygonrose, this is for you, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. :) Oh, and many thanks to the SorceressKnight for his suggestions and ideas. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Introduction -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The kingdom's name was Esthar. Originally, it was ruled by an evil sorceress, the Empress Adel. She was a cruel tyrantess, and she desired the flesh of other women. Because of her disdain for men, Adel was never to have an heir of her own blood. Instead she sought out the perfect child to be her heir. She eventually found a girl child that lived in a small village called Winhill, named Ellone. Ellone was the daughter of a woman named Raine and a man named Laguna of Loire. Adel sent out her minions to acquire this young girl she had discovered. Ellone was a special child, with mysterious powers to manipulate time. However, her father did not take kindly to his daughter being kidnapped. Laguna had once been an archer in the Sorceress Wars for the kingdom of Galbadia. He took up his bow and arrow once more, and traveled to Esthar, with the aid of his friends and companions, Kiros of Seagill and Ward of Zabac. Despite the odds against this courageous three, they persevered in rescuing young Ellone from the evil clutches of a twisted magician named Odine. But as Laguna learned the plight of the suffering kingdom through a valorous knight who saved his life at the cost of his own, he took it upon himself to destroy Adel once and for all. And with an arrow bestowed with power by his young daughter, and the strength of his pure heart, Laguna overcame the evil sorceress, and banished her to the Nether World, never to be seen again. It is ironic that a woman who so despised men, was defeated by one. Laguna was soon named King by a joyous country. But the pure-hearted warrior yearned for his wife that he had not seen and went to return home to collect the new Queen of Esthar. But the tale soon turns tragic, for even as Laguna took his daughter back to Winhill, he found his beautiful and beloved wife dead, having given birth to his son in his departure. Laguna was saddened and took the newborn child back to Esthar, naming the boy child Squall. It was odd, how on his return to his new kingdom that a young sorceress, yet untainted by darkness, stopped him. She was the Lady Edea of Kramer, bride of the Headmaster of the finest school for young warriors. Laguna wished for his son to be read by a sorceress, to determine the baby's depths. At Laguna's request, Lady Edea the Sorceress looked deeply within the newborn's soul, and saw within him the heart of a lion and it chilled her soul. She left quickly, muttering this beneath her breath. But Laguna had heard her words and his son was known as the Crowned Prince Squall the Leonhart from that day forth. King Laguna of Esthar was soon saddled with many responsibilities, for as King, it was his duty to put his land to peace. The valorous knight who had given his life to save Laguna's was discovered to have a young son, only a year older than his own. In repayment for the service done to him, Laguna brought the child to his own castle, to be raised alongside his own children. The child was given titles and was trained as a knight, to follow in the footsteps of his heroic father. Laguna hoped that one day, when the child was old enough, he would stand alongside his son and lend the boy strength to lead a country, as Laguna's childhood friends, Kiros and Ward, did for him. The boy child's name was Seifer of Almasy. Laguna did not spend as much time with his son as he would have liked, for his duties kept him busy. His son clung to his older sister, and Ellone quickly became like a mother to him. She took it upon herself to become the big sister of all the castle's children, even the sulky, rebellious Seifer of Almasy. The older Seifer quickly became a rival to Squall for his sister's attentions and affections. Perhaps that is where the legendary rivalry between Prince Squall the Leonhart and Sir Seifer of Almasy began. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Prologue -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Have you ever seen a sword fight? A real sword fight, I mean. Not the kind of paltry play you see between foot soldiers of a war. Not the sorry fencing duels between fops with egos. A real sword fight. No? Then imagine this. It is a rainy night. Not the kind of rainy night where one wonders if dark powers are afoot, but rather a moody night where the weather leashes pent up fury at human transgressions. The occasional spark of light illuminates the dark, cloudy sky. You're unsure if this is because of the lightning bolts or the strike of metal upon metal. Perhaps a combination of both. You hear the clang of metal upon metal after a few minutes, which is odd, because it is louder than even the rumbling thunder overhead. You can hear breathing soon after this, which is even odder, for it is quieter than the pelt of rain upon your back. Two distinct patterns of breathing can be distinguished after another minute. One is the long, rasping breaths taken by a man who is acting quickly, with reflexes being tested. The second is that of a man taken by surprise by the quickness of his opponent, heard in short gasps for air. The breathing of each opponent seems to have taken to the rhythm of the other's movement. You can only see dark shadows moving against the other, swords drawn. The figures move with the grace of dancers, for a dance it is. A dance of death. One figure is larger, stronger. The other smaller, quicker. Yet their grace is the same. Perfectly orchestrated. The swords strike at the same time the lightning does and momentarily you are taken by the faces of the dueling shadows. One a handsome blonde, his face a chiseled mask of beauty that has lost none of it's masculinity. The other a sultry brunette, his face a mask of ethereal beauty that has lost none of it's intensity for it's effeminance. You realize you can hear their heartbeats. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Deep, rythmic beats. Their hearts beat together, though neither has noticed. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. A pulsing, lulling drumbeat at odds with the rising furor of their blades. Another strike of light. Was it the clash of blades or the strike of lightning? You see their eyes. Naked emotions swirl in the clear depths of their eyes. The blonde carries eyes like green fire. The brunette carries eyes like the blue squall of the sea. Such naked emotions. Perhaps emotions is too weak a word for what you see in their eyes. Eyes that never leave the other's. Feelings, emotions, all these words fail to describe the utter intensity of their passion. Hate. Love. Love. Hate. There is no distinction between the two for these two young men. They are too young to have emotions such as these, you think. The blonde is a mere fifteen summers and the brunette a year his junior. And then you begin to pay attention to their actions. The grimace of their faces. The swings of their blades. The blonde is so cocky, so arrogant. He blocks the brunette's blade with apparent ease, but if you look closer you see that he is weakening. The brunette is so intense and so quiet. He needs no words as he strikes with rising fury to get past his opponents defense. Swing. Parry. Block. Clang. Feint. Thrust. Jab. Like a viper the brunette strikes, yet the blonde, though slower, seems to block every hit just in time. But the brunette is pressing him. The brunette now has the advantage and the blonde now knows it. The blonde takes a step back and holds out his hand. A small spiral of fire sprays forth and knocks the brunette over. You've never seen such naked emotion in the brunette's eyes. He gazes up angrily at the blonde, angry at the underhanded tactic. You wonder idly, as the brunette stumbles to his feet, why they fight. Is it because they hate each other so much? Or is it because they love each other so much? Do they even recognize their own emotions for what they are? The brunette aims to strike again at the blonde, but the blonde has recovered from the press and strikes back, breaking past the brunette's speed with his strength. You wince just as the blonde's blade comes down. The blade slices open the brunette's face. A diagonal cut to the right, that slices from forehead to cheek. The brunette falls back as his face begins to bleed. Blood pours forth, splashing across his cheek, and spilling onto the rocky ground. Red against gray. Pure rage is written across the brunette's features, but it is an odd rage. It is a cold rage. And shock registers across the blonde's features as he realizes he has spilled his opponent's blood. A mistake he did not mean to make. You thought at first they meant to kill, but now you wonder if they were at play. The blonde mistakenly lets down his guard and his blade as he gapes at the wounded brunette. The sound of metal against rock. The sound of their matched heartbeats, beating faster. The cry of cold rage. The gasp of shock and guilt. How fast can a heart beat? Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. The brunette is weakened, but drags the point of his sword on the rocky ground, swinging up at blonde in vengeance, seeking purchase. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Everything goes white. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. But you can still watch. You watch the brunette's long blade cut just as deeply into the blonde's face. The same pattern. Only in reverse. A diagonal cut to left, from cheek to forehead. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, and scar for a scar. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. The brunette falls to the ground unconscious as his blade cuts into the blonde's flesh. After a few seconds, the blonde sags to the grounds, sinking to his hands and knees. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Blood loss overcomes the blonde even more quickly than his opponent and he soon collapses on top of the smaller boy. Their blood mingles. Tha-thump. Tha-thump. You stand there for another minute, staring at the fallen pair, listening to their heartbeats slow. Normal sound returns and soon all you can hear is the pelt of rain, and the crash of thunder. Then you realize you should run for help before they both bleed to death. But questions enter your mind unbidden even as you run. Were they lovers? Enemies? Why did they fight? Was it really only a few minutes ago that they had begun to fight? Tha-thump. Tha-thump. Everything fades to white. Tha-thump. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A long time ago in a world far, far away. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Somehow, things always seem to fall into place for Lady Edea of Kramer. Of course, she was a Queen now. She was the ruler of Galbadia. And she craved for more. Far more. She was a beautiful woman. Few could compare to the Sorceress Edea's beauty. Her long, raven black tresses were pulled back in an impossibly tight twist, and adorned with richly colored baubles. She often wore a dark purple dress with feather lining that draped to the floor in a dark train of silk, that fitted her slim, yet desirable form. Edea was delicate beauty, yet it was a cold beauty. As cold as her heart. A dark smile twisted the richly dressed woman's lips. Tonight, all things would come to her as they should. Her plan would bring Esthar to it's knees and then under her control. "My Knight........" she hissed at the tall blonde who sat across from her in the carriage. Sir Seifer of Almasy looked up, his fiery green eyes taking in his mistress' cruel smile and good humor. Edea was only happy when she got her way. "Yes, my Queen?" he asked in his rich baritone. "My Knight..... When my little apprentice delivers the potion to the Prince of Esthar, he will be under her command, and thusly under mine. However, if the little girl chooses to cause me problems by betraying me, I want you to demonstrate to her why crossing the Edea the Sorceress is never a good idea. Keep a close eye on the pretty little witch. I want the Prince delivered to me unharmed," Edea said, her melodious contralto worthy of an opera singer. "Yes, my Queen," the blonde said evenly. Yet despite his voice, Edea always saw the glimmer of rage in his eyes, even in his calmest. Her Knight was a very angry young man. "And I know how you despise the little princeling, but remember who is your mistress. If one hair upon Squall the Leonhart's head is harmed by you, I assure you that your death will be sung about by bards for the next few centuries. Understand?" Edea asked in her cold contralto. Her eyes were narrowed in wicked humor. "Yes, my Queen," Seifer repeated himself, gazing out the window of their carriage and not into her eyes. Her threat seemed not to intimidate him, but Edea knew that as clever as Seifer was, he had filed it away. The sorceress relaxed slightly and leaned back against the dark velvet of pillows. She watched her knight with the glittering darkness of her eyes, her wicked smile still present. Seifer seemed not to be bothered by his mistress' scrutiny. And he wasn't. For as long as she didn't look too deeply into his eyes, Seifer knew she would know nothing of his true intentions. He silently pulled up the veil over his handsome face, and adjusted the helmet that covered his hair. Tonight would be very interesting. The Lady Quistis of Trepe strode quickly to her king's council chambers, gathering the long skirts of her ornate robes in her hands to quicken her pace. She was a stately blonde, with the majesty of any royal princess. She wore her golden blonde hair pulled back, but let her bangs hang free. She wore spectacles for her true blue eyes, and wore the magician robes of her station. Quistis of Trepe was the Court Wizard of Esthar, a Blue Mage without equal. She was said to be one of the most powerful mages in the land, even at the tender age of eighteen years. Even Quistis did not suspect the true depths of her power. Lady Quistis entered the council chambers, and bowed before King Laguna as the guard announced her entrance. "Your majesty. The newly crowned Queen of Galbadia, the Sorceress Edea, has arrived in her carriage, in company with her Knight," Quistis said as she stood up, her blue eyes involuntarily resting on the sour-looking young man that sat beside Laguna. Besides the king and the prince, both the Captain of the Guard, Sir Ward of Zabac, and the Master of Assassins, Lord Kiros of Seagill were in the room. Laguna had aged well, and despite his forty-four years, looked no older than thirty. His long black hair had only a hint of encroaching gray, and his aquamarine eyes sparkled like a child's. His pretty face was still as beautiful as any woman's, and his body as toned as it was twenty years ago. He smiled brightly at the young blonde woman. "Oh good! We'll meet her in the throne room after they've settled in and washed up, and then the ball may commence. Maybe there can be peace between our kingdoms after all," Laguna smiled. He had invited the Sorceress Edea and her chosen Knight to a ball in her honor, in hopes that he could forge an alliance with his neighbor and avoid a war. Laguna was tired of fighting. Quistis bowed again. "We all hope so your majesty. I tested the Sorceress' magical aptitude, and I must say that she is easily the most powerful sorceress I have ever heard about. Her level of sorcery outshadows even Adel's in her prime," Quistis said seriously, trying not to stare at the Prince too much. It would not do for the Crowned Prince of Esthar to know that she was infatuated with him. "I still say this is a bad idea, Father. We should not let a sorceress into our castle. They are deceitful creatures. You of all people should know that. They more often than not use the powers of the Dark Realms to enhance their own," Prince Squall the Leonhart said. As always, he was an odd mixture of cold disdain, and dark sensuality. "I know that, Squall. I fought in the Sorceress' Wars, remember? Good sorceresses are about as common as flying blue donkeys. But I don't want a war, Squall. I don't want people to die. I just want to live my life out in peace," Laguna sighed, his cheerful expression darkening slightly. "Sometimes war is a necessary evil, Father. She could easily stab us in the back and-" Squall protested before Laguna looked at him sharply. "Squall. I know I wasn't the best father in the world, but where is your compassion? I think not of political necessity, but of all the lives that will perish in war. Of all the orphaned children, and weeping widows. Of the maimed men, and innocent lives lost. In both countries. I was born and raised in Galbadia. I don't want people to die. Why are you so eager to bring us to war and sacrifice the lives of your people, and the people of the kingdom your father was born in?" Laguna said, his voice sounding old and tired. Squall scowled and looked away, then stood up. "I shall go prepare for the ball tonight, Father. Do what you will. I gave you sound advice, but as always, you are too weak to heed it," he said icily and breezed past Quistis and out of the room. Quistis swallowed, her eyes following the sultry brunette momentarily before returning to her king. Laguna sighed sadly and covered his face with his hands. Kiros unwrapped himself from his shadows and placed a dark hand on his long-time friend's shoulder. Sir Ward's face tugged into a frown. Quistis hung her head. As beautiful as she found Squall, and as much as she desired him, she could never abide his cold and calculating nature. Squall had no compassion for anyone, not even his own father. Especially his own father. "I've failed him, haven't I? After Ellone died of consumption, he locked his heart away in ice. I should have taken the time to be there for him. To tell him I love him. To let him know he's not alone....... I failed him as badly as I failed Seifer," Laguna said quietly, his body shaking slightly, telling all who were present that he was crying behind his hands. Quistis turned her face, hating to see her beloved king like this. "You cannot blame yourself, Laguna," Kiros purred out in his dark baritone, his exotic accent stressing the sound of "u". Few men were as stealthy, and as skilled in espionage as Kiros. Yet despite his cold trade, the Master of Assassins was a font of compassion, and had a soft spot for Laguna. "You did the best you could. You are king before you are father. You had an entire kingdom depending on you and not just one little boy. And the same for Seifer. It is a sad thing that both boys turned out to be full of such hate, but it is not your fault." "Yes. I am king before I am father. Yet, because of such, my son despises me and the son of the man who saved my life, despises me more. I should have been there for both of them when Ellone died......" Laguna sobbed, as Kiros pulled him into an embrace. Quistis felt embarrassed, wondering why she hadn't been dismissed. Then she realized it was because they had forgot she was there. Everyone seemed to forget about her. "If you had done that, Esthar would have destroyed itself in civil war. The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, Laguna. Perhaps one day Squall will learn love and compassion for others. And perhaps Seifer will find the happiness that escaped him," Kiros soothed. Quistis edged towards the door, wondering if she could open it and leave without being noticed. "I banished him, Kiros. I exiled him after he scarred my son's face. Happy? I pushed him away from everything he knew in a fit of rage. My people say I am a wonderful king, but I am a poor man......." Laguna cried softly into Kiros' shoulder. Ward put a comforting hand on Laguna's back. Ever since Seifer's banishment from Esthar, Laguna had begun to doubt himself as he realized exactly how the children in his care had turned out. One was full of violent rage, and the other cruelly dispassionate. Quistis made it out of the room, stifled by Laguna's guilt. She had known what had happened, but never did she imagine that Laguna hated himself so much. She sighed sadly. Tragedy plagued the royal family more than she cared to know. The sight of sky blue caught her eye, and Quistis looked up to see the Lady Rinoa of Heartilly stride down the hallway, heading towards the Prince's chambers. Curiosity, loathing, and jealousy overtook her common sense and she cast an invisibility spell upon herself and followed the young woman down the hall. Lady Rinoa was from Galbadia, and the daughter of the Lady Julia, a woman whom King Laguna had fancied as a youth. The General of Galbadia's army was her father, and had asked King Laguna to harbor the girl in Esthar when he discovered the turmoil within Galbadia as Edea began her climb to the top. Laguna had accepted and happily brought the pretty young girl to his castle, hoping to secure a queen for his son. Rinoa had only been in Esthar a few months, but had already attracted more attention to her from Squall than Quistis ever had in her entire life. Despite herself, Quistis was jealous of all the attention Rinoa received from everyone, while Quistis was practically ignored by everyone. People tripped over her in the hallway, she was so insignificant. Quistis followed Rinoa quietly, wondering what the simpering courier was up to. Her invisibility spell was flawless, but if she was careless, Rinoa would hear her. Rinoa flounced up to the door of Squall's chambers and smoothed her bue dress, and flipped back her long black hair. Quistis wondered what everyone saw in her. "Squally? Oh, Squally-poo! Are you in here?" Rinoa cooed, slowly opening the door. Quistis blinked. Squall was a very private man, and allowed no one in his chambers. "Yes, Rinoa. What do you want?" Squall asked coldly. Rinoa stepped into the room and Quistis had to hurry to get in the room before she closed the door. "I just wanted to see how you're doing.... I can't wait until the party! It's going to be so fun!" Rinoa said excitedly, smiling brightly at the beautiful prince. Squall looked at her with a sour expression. Despite his cold treatment of her, it was more than most received from him. "Yay. I can't wait. Now would you be so kind as to leave, so I may bathe?" he asked. "You sure you don't want me to stay and help?" Rinoa asked slyly. "I'm a big boy. I can do it myself, thank you. If you'd be so kind as to lock the door behind you," Squall said stiffly. Quistis was relieved, and realized that she had been holding her breath. "As you wish, your highness. But after tonight, you might change your mind," Rinoa said smugly. Quistis resisted the urge to trip the smug little courtier as the Asian girl passed her. Quistis followed her out, the thought of being in the same room with a naked Squall too much for her. Quistis wonder as she dropped the invisibility spell after ducking off into hallway why Squall paid attention to the girl. Even if he was cold, Rinoa could coax him to dance, drink, and even go places. This made Quistis jealous, as it was hard getting Squall to even talk to her. But at the same time, it made her wonder if maybe Squall could learn to love Rinoa. Maybe Rinoa was the one. It hurt Quistis a little, but Laguna's grief had caused her to readjust her thinking. Squall indeed, did need to learn how to love. It was obvious that Quistis couldn't teach him, but maybe Rinoa held the key. Quistis scrunched up her face in disgust as she stomped back to her chambers to prepare for the ball. She did not like the idea of Rinoa being Squall's true love. She'd have preferred Squall to fall in love with Seifer. Edea emerged from her bath, quite satisfied with her posh guest chambers. Both her and her Knight had been given rooms to wash up and prepare for the ball. Seifer had been covered up, and none knew of who he truly was. Edea dried herself off, admiring her own elegant beauty in a mirror. A soft knock came at the door of her chambers, two, and then in three sets. "Come in, Rinoa," Edea said calmly, not bothering to cover her nudity as she began to apply powder on her face. Rinoa came in furtively, her head cast down, and she applied a curtsy. "Your majesty. I have missed your tutelage, Mistress. I am so happy to see you again," she said meekly. "You lie. You loathe me, and are jealous of my power and beauty. This is perfectly understandable, but if you do exactly as I say, perhaps I will teach you one day to became as beautiful and as powerful as I. Have you performed as told?" Edea asked, slowly turning to favor her apprentice with a chilly smile. "Yes, your majesty. The Prince is as difficult to seduce as Sir Seifer said he would be. I have failed to get him into my bed, but succeeded in forming something of a friendship with him," Rinoa said, not daring to look at her mistress. "I expected as much. I have created a love potion just for you. You will put it in Squall's drink and give it to him. It is necessary that you look into his eyes when he drinks, to seal the bond. As long as there is attraction there, he will fall completely in love with you. He will do exactly as you say. And since you've reported that he seems to like you more than most here, you should be fine," Edea said calmly, and handed Rinoa small packet of a reddish-orange powder. "Yes, your majesty. I think I shall like to have the Prince as my pet..." Rinoa dimpled and looked up into Edea's dark eyes. Edea favored her apprentice with a patronizing smile. "Don't get too attached, Rinoa. Men are like animals. Conquer them and you have a valuable tool, but if you leave them untamed, they are wild and unpredictable," she said almost maternally, and returned to her vanity. "Now, go make yourself as lovely as possible for the evening. It wouldn't do for the Crowned Prince of Esthar to fall in love with a shameless and unwashed hussy." King Laguna of Esthar sat on his throne a little nervously, glancing over at his sour looking son. Squall sat in the smaller throne to his right, staring straight ahead, pointedly ignoring Laguna. Laguna sighed and looked ahead as well, listening to the guards announce Queen Edea of Galbadia as she entered the throne room. The powerful sorceress was truly a vision of loveliness. She wore her best, and greeted Laguna with the most chilling smile he had ever seen on a human being. At her side was a tall man in dark armor. A dark veil covered the lower half of his face and he wore a open-faced helmet. The tall Knight bowed to Laguna as she did, and was named as the Sorceress' Knight. "I and my Knight thank you for your hospitality, King Laguna. May I inquire as to why we have been invited to your beautiful home?" Edea purred, another subarctic smile gracing her glorious face. "I only wish to express my pleasure at having such a beautiful neighbor, your majesty. I hope that perhaps we may become allies," Laguna said brightly, pushing away all his thoughts of unhappiness. Squall found his eyes drawn to the Sorceress' Knight. The tall man had a veneer of confidence, arrogance, and contained rage that Squall found familiar. The armored knight's eyes were the only things visible, and soon met Squall's. Fiery green met stormy gray, and all else in their world dulled. "Mayhaps, your majesty. An alliance certainly begs thought, if nothing else. At least we may enjoy each other's company for the night," Edea smiled smugly. Diplomacy was a game she played well. "Certainly," Laguna said slowly, noting Edea's predatorial smile and cold reservation. A sudden chill passed through him as he noted that in many ways she reminded him of his son. Cold, calculating, and ruthless. "Your Knight need not be so formal. It is not necessary for him to be in full armor. You already have my word that no violence shall be done while you are my guests," Laguna added after a moment, wishing to change the subject. Edea's wicked smile grew. "You wish to see my Knight's face? Well, is this is your wish, your majesty, then I see no reason why not," she said in an amused tone. The Sorceress' Knight took this as his cue, and removed his helmet, revealing short golden hair, cropped to fit beneath a helmet. Laguna blinked and Squall gasped, both slowly becoming aware of who the Sorceress' Knight was, even as he slowly removed his veil. Seifer of Almasy stood proudly before them, a smirk on his scarred face. Squall stood up his throne, cold rage on his face. "You dare come back here, you bastard???" Squall demanded, his tone chilling the air. "Is this what you've become, Seifer?" Laguna asked softly, staring at Seifer in horror. He had never really forgiven himself for banishing Seifer, a decision forced on him by his son's outrage at being scarred. And now he realized that banishing the youth had forced him to serve a mistress whose intentions were unclear, but certainly not for the better good of society. Guilt hit him like a doom train. "I am the Sorceress' Knight, and I was invited to Esthar. Seifer of Almasy may have been exiled, but the Sorceress' Knight has no use for your paltry commands. I serve a new liege, now. I bear you no ill will, unless you force my hand," Seifer said heatedly, his tone held in check, but only barely. Laguna hung his head, even as Squall whirled to face his father, his sour expression alive with cold hate. "Father, you cannot let this scum into our kingdom. The sorceress is one thing, but not him. I demand that you send him away. He is a bastard, and doesn't deserve the air he breathes," Squall spat, his gray eyes clouding over to a stormy blue. Laguna looked up slowly at Squall, his anger only barely held in check. Seifer had suffered the same grief that Squall had when Elle had passed away. Only Seifer had no family. He was just an orphan being raised by a man who was far too busy to spend time with his own son, much less another's. Laguna grieved over the mistake he had made with Seifer as much as he did Squall. The two boys had never gotten along, but after Ellone's death and the onslaught of puberty, their rivalry intensified to an odd sort of hatred. "You are not the king of Esthar yet, my son. Hold your tongue and be silent. I banished him once for his crime of blooding you, but this time he has done nothing. Leave him be," Laguna said to Squall sharply. Never had he taken such a tone with his son before. Squall had never received discipline from his own father, and only the swordmaster who taught him to use a blade had given him any discipline in his entire life. Squall's face fell slack momentarily at the shock of his father's reprimand. It was quickly set in ice and he sat down stiffly, turning from his father to glare hatefully at a smirking Seifer. "Perhaps we should let |