Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Final Fantasy 6 short story ❯ One-Shot

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

hi! kazamidori here! This is a FF6 fic, so the characters are property of square, not me, Ameya D.

Also, I took the liberty of calling Cayene(cyan), BJ, i know its kinda wierd, but thats what i called him when i first played and its stuck ever since. I'm not sure about the spelling of Elayne (Mina) and Owain's (Shawn) names, since i haven't played in a while. please enjoy anyways!



...




The blushing golden haired bride hesitantly took a sip of warm sake from the white enamel bowl. Next to her, the tall bronzed samurai did the same. His strong supple arm gently gripping the hilt of his sword as he drank, a slight indication of his nervousness, perhaps?
She, 18, and her new husband, only 16. They had first met just today, but already the young blonde felt an overwhelming sense of warmth for him. Beizushita James Cyan Garamonde, future retainer to the king of Doma. From what she had learned, his family had been aristocrats as long as history recorded a civilization here. Many lines of king's had come and go, but their protectors, shoguns and generals always the same, the family of Garamonde.

Elayne Wistera Figaro, distant cousin to the great king, could only marvel at Doma. The eons of tradition. Her husband stood and held his sword with a nobility that only came from centuries of pride. She could guess a few things about him, quiet, serious, dedicated ... loyal.
She felt like a country bumpkin in this place. Her family, petty aristocracy. The kingdom of Figaro, built on an ancient reign, was new and unsteady in practice and left her only half prepared for court and overcome by the strict ancientness.

The bribes her father must have paid to set this up...
She wasn't happy about it ... but she had to respect her father for working so hard to advance her position. And the ladies of court last night had dropped hints last night about what a kind man BJ was. Not impossibly pompous like the king's many sons. Elayne was glad for that, she was down to earth. You could dress her up and she could play the part, but in truth she craved the simple life. A large family, good friends ... evenings by the sea.

Gems, gold, houses, lies, intrigue, she despised these excesses.

...nearly 20 years ago ... had it really been this long?

Elayne sighed as she stared at what she was sure was her first grey hair ... already?

Owain pondered life at the windowsill, but turned when her heard her sighing. Owain, with her own golden hair, but definitely his father's eyes. He had just turned 13 a month ago and was rapidly becoming a man ...

..right before my eyes .. so fast ...

She had been sickly in her first few years of marriage and with a family history of difficult births. Their first child, a black haired daughter, had died so young ... and BJ had nearly lost both her and Owain when he was delivered.

They never spoke of Faye, but she knew of the profound effect her death had on her husband. Everyone once in awhile his eyes would look darker than usual and his silence would say more than anything he could ever articulate.

he was the most loving father...

Perhaps it was because his relationship with his own father was nearly non-existant ... and the king, whom she always thought fulfilled the role of father-figure to him ... was .... well ... didn't see him the way she assumed.

She longed to give her husband a large family, like she always dreamed of ... but no more children came and now ... time was running out for her.

At least she gave him a son.

Who would want to bring a new life into this world anyways? The empire around the corner ... magitek armour .. demonic generals like Celes and Cefca ... rumours of genetic testing, 'medical research' ... espers ...

What interest would the Empire have with Doma? Figaro perhaps ... if they dare attack it ... but sleepy Doma?

She worried for her family in South Figaro, her friends all over ... the beautiful young king Edgar. But not for her husband ... he was 35 .. too old to send to war?

...She knew he loved Doma, would gladly give his life for it's lands and people - for his King. For her, for his son ... he was too eager too die sometimes ...

Thank god the King remained uninterested in war outside of the odd rebellion here and there
...but Figaro are our allies

an alliance she helped forge, if they attacked would Doma troops be sent to help out?

Figaro doesn't need our help ...


"Mom?"

Owain startled her, as suddenly he was right behind her. He could move as silently and his stealthily as his father.

"yes?"
"Are you alright?'
"I'm fine honey ... just getting old .."

Owain smiled brightly.

"heh ... that's not true, you're more beautiful than ever~!"
"hmm .. now what do you want?"
"I want to practice with the soldiers this afternoon ... please? please? puh-lease!"
"Owain, you know you have studies to do"
"but ... Mom, it's a beautiful day!! I'll never be a warrior if I can never practice ..."


Elayne had to smile, the fire in her son's eyes ... so much like the burning in BJ's. The way his whole face lit up when she watched him sparring and praised his form with the proper words. The rare grin on his face as he replied that she should praise Doma, not himself, when his body language screamed that he knew he was the greatest .. not bragging .. not posturing ... just acknowledgment of truth.

Her husband's life was about truth. About reacting correctly to the true circumstance. There was no room in his Way for egotism, but none for self-doubt either.

"Your father tells you ... half his job is knowing when to use your mind and not your strength .. He's a learned man! and you will be too, if I have my say in it!"

Owain frowned, his mother was a stubborn lady. What she said, went.
Anyways, his father might be a "learn'd" man, but he didn't have to study calculus and mechanics. His father cursed machinery up and down and was hopelessly inept with the simplest modern appliance.

Owain loved machines. Taking them apart, figuring out why they did what they did, putting the puzzle back together. Well ... hopefully putting them back together.

His father would just shrug and say it was the Figaro in his son, because no Garamonde in his proper state would have anything to do with a mechanical abomination.

Owain didn't mind his father's teasing, it was obvious the pride his father took in him. In his younger days he would hide in the throne room to listen to his father bragging to the King. The King would nod politely and offer a "really?" from time to time as the ladies of the court giggled behind their painted faces and fans.

"Ahh .. fine! .. but .."
"when you're done your math assignment, we'll have tea, then you can go be a barbarian and beat on your friends."
"tea?..."
"oh .. humour your old decrepit mother .. she won't be around much longer.."
"mom, don't say those things!"

They both laughed and Owain got his books and began to write delicate equations vertically down the page.
Elayne returned to the mirror and began to arrange her hair. BJ had gotten up early ... they had been arguing about the imperial war the night before...
He had kissed her, her usual good morning good-bye so that his long black cue brushed her white neck and he had whispered "I love You" in a hopelessly antiquated language.

but ...

She had pretended to be asleep, did he know?

Now she missed him, and wanted to look good for this evening. Her heart quickened just thinking of him walking into their room as dusk was falling. Weakly complaining of some new modern bureaucratic nonsense. Dropping his long Sky-element sword on the back of a chair, but keeping his short one on ... in case of emergency seppuku or something ... If she hadn't protested so much he probably would sleep with his swords on.

Elayne smiled into the mirror, ignoring the very slight wrinkles that showed in her smooth skin.

She loved him, she loved their life together. He must know that. No petty argument -and there had been a few - could ever shake that love. Two strong personalities coming together to share one soul. For someone so sworn to fealty he could sure be pig-headed. But she loved him all the more for it. The way handmade paper flowers would appear mysteriously in her small office when she came back from lunch to finish some small detail ... the tender love letters in his graceful script he wrote when they were separated.
The way he couldn't stand to see suffering. From the tiniest animal to the bratty royal concubines, who didn't deserve a lick of consideration. Slicing a man in half on the battle field, that was fine, but a rabbit struggling in a snare was too much for his heart to take.

...True honour comes from protecting the weak and helpless, not defeating the strong.

Elayne applied shinning powder to her eyelids and lined her fine blue eyes in black. The lipstick would wait until later, until the moments before it could be firmly planted on one of BJ's high cheekbones.

She sat down and wrote some letters as Owain quietly worked.

He was good that way, full of Figaro exuberance but with a healthy dose of Garamonde diligence to temper it ... thank god!

As she washed her brushes, Owain put down his paper, stretched and yawned.

"Almost done?'
"Yup! put the kettle on"
"you read my mind, baby-boy."

Owain shook his head.

For now on Owain would be spending less and less time with her, she had to treasure what she could get. BJ had already reported that her son and a fellow mechanically inclined courtesan had been "hanging out" quite often.

His first crush ...

She drew out the water and placed the kettle over the charcoal burner.

"wanna look at it mom?"

She smiled and walked over to her son, leaning over him to read the equations.

It had been awhile since she took calculus, all Figaro women are thoroughly educated. Destiny isn't as strong in the Figaro kingdom she guessed. You could be whatever you wanted to be.

Doma had a strict system of fate.

Elayne thought she noticed a small mistake and ushered Owain out of his seat, so she could get a better look.

Owain peered at the kettle, there was a little steam ... but it wasn't whistling.

Oh, how his father hated the whistling kettle. Made a sacrilege out of taking tea he said. He had tossed it right out the window after a particular lengthy session on the topic. The next day his mother went away to Figaro and brought back a new one shaped like a Rooster, ending the discussion.

Owain chuckled and poured the water anyways, they were just going to drink it right away, it didn't need to be boiling hot.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his mother rapidly scratching something out and gritting her teeth.

He paused and then stirred the powdered tea into the water until it turned a translucent jade colour.

"I just have to factor this last variable .. take out x... solve ..for y?"

He handed her the cup of tea.

"here you go."

She took a long sip and grimaced.

"I really am getting senile .. can't do simple math"

Owain grinned, but refrained from making comment, he could see his mistake from where he was standing. 2x squared became 4x, not 4x squared.

He drained his cup in one big gulp as his mother's face brightened considerably.

"oh, I get it! you put an extra .."
"squared?"
"Oh! shut up you! you made a mistake in six as well."
"hm? lemme see..."


They worked through six and later, nine together, emptying the pot of tea and laughing at their own mistakes.
As the time passed Elayne began to feel more and more light-headed.

"Owain ... I think I'll ... lay down for a bit"
"uh .. yeah"

He remained seated.

"honey, you can go now."
"uh .. yes ... I know"
"ok"


Elayne wandered into her bedroom and laid down carefully, trying not to disturb her complicated hair. If she just slept a short while she'd have time to fix it before the afternoon melted into evening.

Her mind felt as though it was floating away from her, her body numbing. It was a heavy feeling.

The only thing she could think of like it was when she awoke after the birth of Owain. That time she thought she was going to die. BJ has stood beside her then, shadow casting across her from the night's moonlight.
His back had been towards her, but she wasn't offended. He only wanted to spare her the sight of him being weak.
And it had reminded her of their first night together, as he had politely turned his back as she changed out of her reception dress.
She had lay on the bed, just as unsure as he was. He stood beside her, bare chested, and she could see where his fine form hadn't quite filled out into adulthood.
As nice as it was to have a handsome guard for her bedroom, the tension was too unbearable. So Lady Elayne Figaro did what any well mannered upper-class woman would do and smacked her new husband in the back of the head with a pillow. He wheeled around in surprise and grabbed the pillow in reflex. Counting on this move, she threw her entire petite frame into pulling him towards her, and still in shock, he fell.
He had blushed beet red, but soon broke out into laughter, and right there she knew she loved him.

It didn't hurt that she could still tease him about being man-handled by her either.

She momentarily snapped out of her haze as she saw Owain entering the room. She wanted to ask him why he was still here, but when she saw him stumble, the cold realization hit her that he was not ok.

And she was not ok.
And it was too late.

He fell towards the bed and lay next her, breathing shallow. The only thing he said was a plaintive "Mom...." and all at once he was again the little boy afraid of the dark.

She wanted to hold him, she wanted to scream, but it took all her strength just to keep breathing.
Her only son began to choke beside her, and she couldn't move to help him, couldn't stop his pain, couldn't see the small line of thick black blood that ran down from the side of his mouth and onto the white linen pillowcase.

She couldn't think ... she couldn't breath ... did she hear the sound of someone running, the sound of a sword clashing against its scabbard?

... had she ever heard anything at all?

Not even the beating of her own heart broke through the darkness.

and Elayne thought nothing more.

and everything was silence.