Ever Ever After

“Where is he?”

Squall looks up to his wife, smiling warmly. She’s so nervous. Not that she doesn’t have her reasons, what with the occasional Heartless still seen around the Garden… But, still, he can’t help but feel things will be fine. So it’s with a light-hearted chuckle that he wraps his arms around her waist, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Don’t worry, Rin. He’s probably just walking home with friends and was slowed down by talking to them.” Squall tries to reassure her. She nods, leaning back into him for comfort. He knows she has every right to fear that something could happen to their little boy, what with how her life had gone.

When she was tiny, her mother had died. It had been sudden, a bout of illness. That’s how they’d met—the girl had run away, and he’d found her in an alley. He’d promised never to leave her alone, and he’d done his best to keep his promise.

A few years later, Rinoa herself had almost died. It’s an event the two of them have mostly pushed from their mind, but the lingering images of the terrifying Sorceress Adel are their proof it had happened. The horrific being that would seek out younger women, mostly young girls, and would then steal their life—their youth and beauty—to keep herself alive and young. Rinoa had been lucky Squall had shown up when he did, because she wouldn’t be here otherwise.

His arms tighten around her as those few images surface. He’d grabbed a pipe from nearby and, having the element of surprise, had rammed it through the back of the monster. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d done it, but it had been one of the events leading to his odd maturity. After all, he’d killed a person that day.

However, he’s also thankful for that day. He inhales his wife’s scent, storm blue eyes slipping shut. Her scent… Heavy with the magic flowing through her veins, passed from Adel to the young girl nearby. The power of a sorceress. The power that had later saved Miss Heartilly as a teen.

“…Denzel… He’ll be okay, right?” she asks suddenly, causing Squall to almost jump. She’s shifted in his arms, halfway turning to look up at him with those beautiful brown eyes—eyes that would always betray her innermost thoughts and feelings.

Windows to the soul, indeed.

“Of course he will. He’s our son, and practically worships the ground Sora walks on. If he couldn’t take care of himself, I’d be surprised.”

Reassurance. A nod from the woman before she turns fully, wrapping her arms around his strong neck. She rests her weary head on his chest, smiling as she takes in the sound of his heart. Such a comforting sound, one that lulls her to sleep each night and reminds her that all is well in her life. All the bad stuff is in the past.

They’d both been thinking the same thing previously, the memories of Adel. If Fury had heard about that incident, he likely would have welcomed the orphan boy with open arms. But it was best if her father never heard of how his daughter had nearly died. He already had issues about protecting her, and if he’d found out? Rinoa would only be able to see daylight from behind barred windows.

But that’s in the past. All of it—the death of Julia, the incident at the bailey with Adel, and even Fury Caraway. All of the bad has been left behind, and things have been going blissfully peaceful for the couple the past ten years.

Though there’s a pained throb in the sorceress’ heart as she remembers that she’d never made up with her father before his death, she feels certain he knew it was simple teenage rebellion. He knew everything, it seemed. Even that something bad was about to happen on the day Radiant Garden fell…

The sound of a door shutting causes the couple to jump, shaken from their thoughts. The woman untangles herself from her husband’s arms, rushing to practically engulf her son in a loving embrace. Relief floods her senses, even as the boy complains loudly about being held too tightly.

“Rin, might wanna let him breathe some.” Squall chuckles from the doorway he leans against. Sheepishly, the woman lets her son go, smoothing out his caramel hair—her father’s hair, she can’t help but notice. Another throb of pain in her chest.

“I was getting worried, Denzel.” Rinoa finally says, taking in her son’s appearance. Six already, and, my, is he growing. Already up to his father’s waist, and almost the spitting image of the man. The same stormy eyes of blue gray, an almost identical hairstyle (from when Squall had shorter hair, of course), and the same determined look to his round face.

“It was only my first day of school, Mom.” Denzel complains, though he’s smiling. He’s used to being showered with affection, because he knows his mom cherishes the moment. She’d had a hard life, or so he’s been told, though he doesn’t know the details.

“Well, then, you’ll have to tell me all about it later.” his mother teases, ruffling up his caramel hair. He laughs a bit, dropping his backpack by the door as he runs into the kitchen. Rinoa had no doubt laid out a snack for him, which he wanted to eat before doing anything else. Mom made the best cookies in the worlds, after all.

Slowly, the sorceress stands from her crouching position, arms crossing over her stomach. And almost wistful, but proud, smile crosses her lips, head tilted lightly to the side so that her hair spills over her shoulders in a way Squall hasn’t seen in ages.

“…Our baby boy’s growing up so fast. If I blink… Will he disappear…? Is this why Father was always so protective…?” she whispers into the quiet hall. There’s a sadness to her voice, the sound of tears wanting to well up.

Arms wrap around her again, and the chin is once more resting atop her head, nestled into her dark hair.

“…Don’t think about the future, Rin. It’s not like you. You’re the kind of person who lives in the moment. Nothing’s changed from then. Ten years ago, when we were married by a green fairy in a coliseum while everything was at its darkest. It’s still like back then for us. It’s still the moment, and we need to hold onto each of them and let our cares slip away.”

His words are a whisper, like a soft, summer breeze—gentle and reassuring, but with a heavy heat to it that makes one passive and tranquil. It causes her to sink back into him, dark eyes lightly shut.

“…Say those words to me again, Princess. The ones that made me fall in love with you.” Squall breathes, eyelids heavy with his own want to rest and feeling of inner peace. A small smile crosses Rinoa’s lips at the old nickname, one he’d used in their childhood, because the orphaned boy had once thought that Rinoa, who lived in such a big house, had to be royalty.

“…I don’t want the future. I want the present to stand still.”

Her own voice is a whisper, but it reminds her of how she’d lived until the days before this one. Denzel had changed her, yes, but not that much. He was a strong boy, and always would be. She knew that, a fog of doubt lifting from her heart. Every moment is to be cherished because, yes, Denzel will grow older and eventually leave the house, eventually move on.

But that’s not right now. Right now, he’s in the kitchen, happily munching on cookies and downing milk while excitedly contemplating what to tell his parents first. Right now, he’s six years old and just a boy, free of the worries of the worlds. Right now, he’s pondering over what cool class pet Mrs. Crescent will provide, because she’s the most amazing and quirky teacher ever who looks to be in her twenties when she’s actually in her fifties.

Rinoa smiles broadly, mind wandering to why she’d been so tense lately, to what had changed to cause her sudden alteration. She slips one hand to Squall’s, guiding it up to rest on her stomach.

“…Right now, I’m two months pregnant with our second child,” she begins with a purr, sensing the realization dawning on her husband, “…And waiting for them to complete our little happily ever after.”