Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns Rydia, Final Fantasy, and all that good stuff. I own nothing (except a few different copies of the game). So who would you rather sue? ^_~
Author’s Notes: Just so you know, I take a few liberties concerning certain events from the game, and some dialogue. I try to be as accurate as possible, but I do have to change a few small things to make the story more effective. There may be a few quotes from the game; if so, these probably come from the translated ROM (since that’s the version I am most familiar with and where I have saved games in several different places). Also, I have some rather controversial theories in here as the basis for the story, and they may or may not be true … but just try to keep an open mind, ok? ^_^
WARNING This fic is rated NC-17 because it contains several sex scenes, as well as a good deal of sexual suggestion and sexual innuendo. Please, mature readers only.
Prologue
The full moon hung low in the night sky, barely hidden by tufts of dark silver-blue clouds. The stars winked down upon the land, lending their light to any who might wish to wander at this late hour.
Rydia, one such wanderer, pulled her pale green shawl tight around her shoulders, warding off early winter’s brisk air. She’d combed her short, feathery green hair straight down to cover her neck and ears, providing a scant bit of warmth against the cold, biting wind. Her sturdy brown boots sheltered her feet from the dropping temperature, but her long, green dress, made from simple cotton, did nothing to keep away the chill. As a result, her petite frame shivered as she marched resolutely toward the mountains.
Rydia had but one mission in mind this night: to return to her hometown, Mist, and see what had become of her childhood village.
She was supposed to be asleep in one of the guestrooms in Baron right now. She had come here from the Underworld to attend Cecil and Rosa’s wedding ceremony. It had been an incredible spectacle; thousands of guests had attended, including some of the most important people in the world. Kings, Queens, Princes and Princesses, awash in all their royal haughtiness and regalia, had come to celebrate the wedding of the new King and Queen of Baron. Rydia, an eighteen-year-old girl from down under, felt somehow horribly inadequate when compared to all the other glamorous guests.
There must’ve been at least a hundred princesses there, she mused. Although, technically, one might consider Rydia herself a princess, since she had long since been adopted by Leviathan and Asura, the King and Queen of the Summoned Monsters, her status in such revered company as had been at the wedding party would be inconsequential. The princesses would spare a single glance upon her small, slender form and then look away, as though she were no more significant than an ant crawling on the ground beneath their pampered feet.
Even Edge … Rydia closed her eyes, her mind rebelling against the painful memory.
Even Edge had turned away from her.
She and her comrades from the Crystal War had been invited to give their blessing to the couple before the other guests had arrived. Rydia had been delighted to see all her friends there—Edward, Giott and his daughter Luca, the newly crowned King Yang and his wife, and so many more. Then her eyes had fallen upon Edge, and everyone else seemed to disappear. She watched him congratulate Cecil with a few ribald jokes and flirt playfully with Rosa under her new husband’s watchful eye. She watched him take his place on one side of the long red carpet adorning the floor of the throne room, and her mind worked at a furious pace as she tried to come up with something, anything, to say to him when their paths crossed.
“It doesn’t matter, Edge,” she’d say, “I understand how you feel, and it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Such trivial things don’t matter, what matters is …”
Her turn to congratulate the happy couple took her by surprise. She gave Cecil and Rosa each a kiss on the cheek and warm hug—she honestly couldn’t be happier for them.
After greeting them, however, came her turn to stand in line to the side of the room, waiting for the rest of their former comrades to have an opportunity to wish many happy returns to the newly minted King and Queen of Baron. She turned around and her gaze fell, once again, upon Edge.
He stood there, straight and tall, looking more handsome than she had ever seen him. A lavender ninja outfit beneath a dark purple cloak covered his sleek, muscular body—a body that she remembered all too well from many sensuous, heated nights. His spiky lavender hair rebelled against neat order, although an obvious attempt had been made to keep his uncooperative locks in line. Rydia could still recall distinctly what it felt like to run her hands through that unkempt hair, the feel of that surprisingly soft texture against her fingers or, better still, against her inner thighs. She could even remember the feel of his soft, smooth lips pressed against her burning flesh—uncovered by the pale purple mask that even now hid the bottom half of his face from view.
Before she even knew that she had moved, she found herself standing in front of him, facing him. He wasn’t a tall man, but the top of her head only came up to his shoulders, regardless. She looked up at him, and he down at her, as she struggled to speak. The words she had rehearsed to herself only moments before now eluded her; she had no idea what to say, no idea how to convey the sincerity of her feelings to him, the sincerity of her apology.
“Edge, I …” she began, frantically searching her mind for words that simply refused to show themselves.
Without a word—his frosty gaze needed no words to express his feelings towards her perfectly—he turned around, giving her his back.
Rydia froze, her heart literally stopping as she stared at the wide expanse of purple cape laid out before her. For Edge to publicly snub her like this—in front of all their mutual friends and former companions—it was worse than she had imagined. She could feel the eyes of all the other guests, even Cecil and Rosa’s staring at the two of them, watching their small, painful scene pan out.
Blinking back a sudden spray of hot tears, Rydia rushed away from the scene of her humiliation and took her place further down the line, next to Edward, King of Damcyan. He didn’t say a word, but the pitying gaze he gave her said enough; he and all the others had just witnessed a horrendous scene that should never have happened.
If only things hadn’t turned out this way, she thought to herself as the ceremony proceeded as planned, her humiliation either forgotten or ignored for the moment. But even as she wished that none of this had ever happened, she knew that, no matter how painful, she couldn’t change the past.