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At
an Arm's Length
A Final Fantasy VIII Story
by
Aligator
Chapter 3 - Like a Mother
Edea Kramer wrung her hands worriedly as she approached her husband’s desk. She knew he had a myriad of responsibilities as the headmaster of Balamb Garden, especially now that Xu had taken that position as second-in-command at the new Trabia Garden. I hate bothering him, but –
“Hi, darling!” he said, without looking up, thoroughly startling her.
“I’m sorry to disturb you –”
Cid finally glanced over the top of his reading glasses with a grin, “You are never a disturbance. What’s up?”
Taking a deep breath, she briefly wondered where, exactly, to begin and sat down quickly. “Something’s been bothering me. . . about Quistis.”
“Well, you know we gave her the chance to be reinstated as an instructor, and she refused.”
A slow smile spread across her face. Forever the administrator. “This really has nothing to do with Garden, dear. I’m just playing Mom, and I’d like your opinion.”
“So you can interfere the way a biological mother would?” he countered with a wink.
“Something like that.”
“O.K., I’ll listen.”
What a flirt, and after so many years of marriage. “Thank you,” she answered evenly. “You see, Selphie was finally organizing the Festival Committee’s Birthday Calendar, and she realized that Quistis’ birthday was two weeks ago.”
Cid looked at her, confusion showing on his face. “And…?”
“Well, she had requested to be on duty, and she left for her last mission in Timber two days before it. WE didn’t remember her birthday, and it’s like she’s gone out of her way to avoid letting any of us –”
“Edea, don’t you think maybe you’re jumping to conclusions. . .”
“Well. . . that was my first thought, too,” she admitted. “I mean, after all, we are talking about Selphie bringing this to my attention. But then I had her do a little digging, and Quistis has been doing the same thing around holidays and celebrations of this sort.”
“When did this pattern start?”
“Just after the Sorceress War.”
This response caused him to furrow his brow. “Oh dear.” He slowly removed his glasses. Ever since Ultimecia was purged from her system, she had been worried about this. She would wake up in the middle of the night from the guilt. . .
“Edea,” he started, hesitantly. “You know that Quistis has always been shy. . . and a bit of a loner, plus the fact that she had to distance herself from the kids her age because of her teaching position, well. . . it didn’t help things,” his voice trailed off.
By this point, his wife’s eyes were almost brimming over with tears. She’s not buying it.
“Cid,” a small voice spoke. “How much do you think she remembers?”
“About her mother, about the orphanage, or about her foster family?” he asked, moving to join her on the other side of his desk.
“All of it,” she replied sadly, rising to meet his welcoming arms.
He tightened his embrace. We must proceed with caution. “I think a phone call to Ellone may be in order.”
*****
Two hours and a phone call to Esthar later, Cid sighed deeply.
Ellone, using her special talents, had been able to confirm that the War did indeed alter the future – and not in a positive way – for some of the parties involved. The news was unwelcome, but there was still a missing piece to the puzzle.
The self-proclaimed big “Sis” had been surprised to discover that a.) she could not figure out how much Quistis actually remembered about her life, pre-Garden, and b.) she could not pinpoint exactly what caused the memory loss.
“Something’s blocking Ellone’s reading,” his wife’s voice said from the corner, causing him to start.
He had forgotten, for a moment, she was still in the room. “Did she have any bad experiences at the orphanage?”
“No,” Edea answered thoughtfully. “But she will remember. . .”
“Seifer,” both said together.
“We don’t know too many details about her time in foster care, and. . . We don’t want to cross that other bridge before we have to. . .” he said, only to be met by a sigh of Edea’s own. “I’ll put out word – discreetly – that we are looking for Seifer. In the meantime, I think you and Quistis have some Matron-daughter bonding to do.”
“Thanks. . . you leave me with the difficult job,” she said with a weak smile. “Now I’ve got to figure out a plausible reason to take her on a field trip to the orphanage.”
To
be continued. . .
Next week: Chapter 4 – Plotting and Scheming
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AT AN ARM'S LENGTH © 2002-2004 A.L. Roberts.
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