XX ~ Dust to Dust

Stella felt like a princess from a storybook. She felt like she was gliding through the most perfect dream. The last time she'd seen the Caelum manor so full of light had been so long ago that she wasn't sure if it was a memory or a fantasy. The black stone façade was aglow with golden lights, bronzing the dark walls like the gentle lick of candleflames. There was a light on in every window, along every pathway, lining every last hallway. The massive chandeliers had been gutted of cobwebs and rotting wires to beam brilliant, prismatic rays across the ballroom and the sitting room and the dining room. Every single floor was awash with light and laughter.

People from all countries and all walks of life filled the manor's halls. Arcadians – commoners and nobles alike – mingled as equals in plain gowns and suits with days of pressing and cleaning put into the clothes in order to look their best for the ball. The dark and weathered shades of Arcadian fashion may not have been impressive compared to others, but when put against the wild pride in their eyes at finally being free to rejoice from war, everything else paled.

Many of Stella's countrymen were in attendance, all in lush and ornate attire; only the finest and most expensive for their to-be queen's celebration. Stella wasn't certain who they were trying to impress. If it were her, then she much preferred the humbly garbed folk, who wore smiles like valuable jewelry, of Arcadia. There were dignitaries and intellects from Academia all around: austere and sophisticated people in practical, pristine outfits that cut their figures into severe lines. She even saw representatives from the distant land of Paddra: a quiet, mysterious band of sun-baked people in long, loose-fitting robes and pants, beaded instead of bejeweled, and looking discomforted by the abundance of people within the enclosed space surrounding them.

Throughout the night, she exchanged courtesies with many of these guests. She knew all the men and women of esteemed regard by name – either by personal acquaintance or dutiful study.

She shook hands with Ardyn Izunia through a tight-lipped smile, watching his mouth move with enthusiastic congratulations on her impending coronation. All Stella heard, though, was the yapping of a trapped fox. He'd been Idola's left hand for the entirety of the insurgency, but had pledged fealty to the princess in a heartbeat upon Idola's defeat. The man's loyalty belonged to the highest bidder, and she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him, but there was value in his wiles. He had all the secrets of the kingdom at his fingertips and invaluable connections that would aid her office in maintaining its strength. He was a necessary evil, not an ally. No amount of pleasantries would make her forget that.

She met the Councilmen they had to thank for Academia's reinforcements on the day of Idola's invasion. Glacius Villie-Far was a tall, bashful man that had trouble staying in his sky-blue officer's suit. He grew flustered and stumbled over his words when Stella greeted him, once coughing on a strand of his own shaggy, rose-gold hair before regaining his composure. Madame Déjà Katzrovian stood as a buffer for Glacius's nerves, effortlessly calling Stella's attention with a compliment to her dress while the Councilman gathered himself. Madame Katzrovian sparkled a smile at Stella's strapless white gown that bled into the dark violet pleats of its skirt, studded with silver pearls to look like the dawn fading to the night sky. The Madame herself was a vision in a ruffled crimson dress that complemented her midnight skin with a russet gleam. Unlike her companion, Déjà was at ease among the party-goers, with a deep, rich laugh that gave every room she occupied a tone of comfort. Stella thanked them profusely for lending the Council of Academia a new perspective, and they, in turn, vowed to maintain the Academy's dialogue with Disceterra's neighbors.

Stella went out of her way to welcome the small group of Paddra's ambassadors. She was humbled to learn that the slight, silver-haired girl was the High Seeress of the Paddra tribes, Paddra Nsu-Yeul. She had deep violet eyes that resonated a wisdom well beyond her years. She was flanked by her Guardian, an amiable, chestnut-haired gentleman by the name of Noel Kreiss. His blue eyes were bright and inquisitive, marveling at the glamor of the mansion and all its people. There was so little Stella knew of Paddra's culture that she wished she could speak to the Seeress for the rest of the night, but before she could make any offer to arrange a future correspondence, Yeul politely excused herself. She gave Stella an apologetic smile, as if she knew what she'd been about to say and regretted having to decline.

Stella passed Prompto and Gladiolus at the refreshments table in the main hall, nourished on champagne and the company of a pair of common girls with a great sense of humor. Ignis haunted the third floor as frequently as Stella did, keeping Noctis within their line of sight as often as possible. The prince had recused himself to the balcony, his back to the festivities and nursing a glass of champagne that had seen little attention. He hated parties whether he was in a good mood or not, Stella reminded herself. Regardless, she made sure to visit his little alcove of self-imposed exile whenever she had a spare moment – when she didn't, Ignis attended the prince's distant silence in her place. Stella reported on all the interesting people she was meeting, trying to lure him out and into the activities. While he smiled and responded to her updates, it was never enough to coax him into joining her.

"Princess Fleuret," Regis called to her on her way down from one of her sojourns to Noctis's balcony. "Have you happened across my son, at all, tonight?"

"Camping upstairs, Your Majesty," she replied, putting on her diplomat's smile for the three men she approached.

The King was standing with his General at one shoulder and a casual man that Stella vaguely recognized as the proprietor of the Coernix Garage out in the Duscae Region.

"Cid," she greeted him with a curt nod.

"Your Highness," he replied, reaching up to tip a hat that wasn't there.

Stella inquired after the man's daughter, head mechanic of his establishment. He excused Cindy's absence as the result of "a mechanic's work never being done." Stella asked, without humor, when Cid had retired from "a mechanic's work" himself. There was an uncomfortable silence, he coughed, and both Regis and Cor took a drink in perfect synchronization, avoiding Cid's glance for help. Stella extended an invitation for Cindy to attend the coronation on the following afternoon, with transportation provided, to which Cid hastily agreed.

"That was awfully generous of you," said Spero Estheim when Stella left the trio.

"Generosity, justice, or an excuse to stoke my egomania; either way, Cinderella gets to attend a ball. A princess looks out for her own."

Spero grinned, an almost lupine cut against her scars and gray hair. She was in an Academian officer's suit of dark vermilion, looking about as ready for war out of armor as she was in it. The Major General's cool stare shifted about, looking for danger behind every made-up face that she passed. It was a struggle to leave the war behind after so long fighting it. Spero wasn't the first soldier Stella had seen who couldn't see the peace for what it was: a reality. The war was over, but there was a long road of fighting still ahead for many of them.

"I'm sorry that your fiancée couldn't attend tonight," Stella said in an attempt to distract her suspicious glances.

"Don't be," Spero chuckled. "She's not, and neither am I. Sticking the Dragoon in a place like this would have been a death sentence for everyone involved. Trust me, Highwind's much happier guarding the castle gates for her Queen. Thank you again for allowing her to stay on as your retainer."

"Aranea's an invaluable asset to Tenebrae. I can't fault her, or anyone, for carrying out Idola's orders. After all, it's my fault for giving him permission to operate in the first place."

"If I may speak plainly, war makes fools of us all, Your Highness. Nobody's faultless, but everybody's to blame. Survival is all that matters at the end of it all. And besides, the only thing worse than making mistakes to save your country, is watching your country do nothing to help anyone."

The soldier's voice grew bitter, her hard stare spearing through members of her countrymen as she and Stella passed by.

"While we're all grateful for the aid," Stella said, upholding her diplomatic reserve. "I can empathize with Disceterra's hesitation. This war stole so much away from both Tenebrae and Arcadia. I would never wish that kind of suffering on anyone else."

"You're far more forgiving than I would be, Your Highness."

"Please, we're all equals here tonight. I'd be humbled if you would call me Stella."

Spero was thrown aback by the request, the steely indifference of her stare dropping into bemused awe. It took her a moment to adjust, and the words sounded like another language on her tongue, but there was a curve to her lips as she spoke, regardless.

"As you wish… Stella."

It made her stomach flutter to finally hear a subordinate refer to her by name. The more people she could convince that her seat didn't make her any less of a person, the happier she would be.

"Speaking of your upcoming nuptials," Stella went on. "Is there any hope in the world that I can recruit you into Tenebrae's army?"

Spero chuckled. "That right there's exactly why this engagement's been dragged out for so long already. It's a lot of 'my army's better than yours' that's keeping the brakes to the asphalt. She doesn't want to give up Tenebrae, and I don't want to give up Academia. The Estheim name has a proud heritage with that city, and I have family there… Ah, well, that's something for her and me to argue about. I'll remember your offer though. Thank you, Stella."

Spero stomped her heels together and bowed over her arm to the princess. Stella smiled, curled a nod to her, and the soldier dismissed herself to the throngs of people. Stella watched her crimson suit bleed into the crowd. There were so many colors, so many different voices. People stood together with drinks and laughter, people danced to the live band's performance, people piled food on plates from the hors d'oeuvres table…

She saw Tenebraens dancing with Arcadians, their elaborate gowns a bright contrast to the plain garbs, but the equality of the dance dulled any differences between them. She saw Academians and Paddraens nodding over vastly different ideologies, yet with honest, open smiles the whole time. She saw Arcadians clutching the hands of Academians in forever gratitude; stiff-backed Academians being persuaded into learning the steps of the Tenebraen waltz; Paddraens trading their traditional dances with the Tenebraens'; Arcadians exchanging history of cultures with Paddraens.

People… Humanity was whole again. There were no borders dividing them here. No more fear keeping all their different cultures apart. Stella's vision blurred as she watched them all, and she quickly blinked away the salty sting of tears. She never imagined that she could be this happy.

"Milady, may I have a moment?"

The dark-haired woman who addressed her materialized from the shadows as if she were made from them. In her long-sleeved, lacy black gown, she was a stark contrast to Stella.

"Yes, what is it, Gentiana?"

"There's an issue at the main entrance which requires your attention."

"My attention?"

While the party was in her honor, the comings and goings were usually left to the host. Not that it was any trouble to her, but she thought it odd that this "issue" wasn't brought to Regis instead of her. She shrugged and followed Gentiana to the main doors.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight?" she asked her new adviser as they walked.

"Much, milady."

Gentiana was of a quiet reserve, direct when it was demanded of her, but otherwise a mute sentinel as Stella's right hand. Stella had met – well, it was better said that Gentiana found her – at a conference in Academia, several months earlier. She hailed from Paddra, which had immediately caught Stella's interest. She had been an adviser to a lesser priestess of a Paddra tribe before her lady's passing. The old woman's death – while expected – was no less heart-breaking after a lifetime spent in her service. Gentiana had left her homeland once the ceasefire between Tenebrae and Arcadia allowed travel to be safe once more. She needed to escape her grief, she told Stella. Being outside of Paddra gave her the space to evaluate her future, and – though she admitted Stella may find it preposterous – she believed the gods were pushing her future to be aside Stella in her reign.

Stella didn't argue her beliefs – in fact, she was rather fascinated by them – and interviewed her further for the position as Hand to the Queen. The space had been recently left unoccupied due to Idola's betrayal, and Stella was eager for some reliable guidance, as well as companionship. Gentiana was an outlier, with no opinion on either side of the war. She was unbiased towards both Arcadia and Tenebrae. She only wanted to be of service, to regain a sense of purpose, she said. The country she served within had little bearing on her work ethic. She was qualified, experienced, and full of a wisdom that Stella didn't think she'd ever fully comprehend. There was a mystique about Gentiana that helped lure Stella into eventually accepting her into her council. She had beguiling green eyes like a pre-dawn sea-mist. They were concealed of thoughts expressed, but were drowned with an intellect that Stella conceded far outreached her own.

While always an imposing and ambiguous presence at her side, Stella found comfort in the woman's council. She had a sharp wit that made Stella laugh on the rare occasions Gentiana let it loose. Her advice was practical and succinct, guiding Stella into decisive action whenever uncertainty afflicted her. Slowly, Stella was beginning to find a friend in Gentiana's soft-spoken mystery. Stella was most grateful for that.

"I met the High Seeress of Paddra tonight," she said, conversationally.

"To be attended by the High Seeress is a very high honor, milady," Gentiana replied, without a glimmer of nostalgia for her former countrymen.

"Did you ever meet her before?"

"I accompanied my priestess to a gathering of hers once, many years ago. I never spoke to the High Seeress, though she had a different Guardian at the time, whose company I occupied most of that night… Here we are, milady. Should you require my assistance with this matter, please don't hesitate to ask it of me."

Stella had been ready to ask Gentiana a million questions about her past in Paddra – this was the most she'd heard of it since she'd introduced herself to Stella – but, it could wait. Gentiana would be at her side for many years to come, Stella hoped.

She turned her attention to the main doors, where a pair of guardsmen were dissuading a woman from entering the premises. Stella froze where she stood when she saw her, her heart filling her throat and not believing her own eyes.

These bucket-heads were hard nuts to crack, but they were nothing compared to how hard it was to get there. If they thought they could hold her back after everything she'd endured, then they had another thing coming.

"Try to avoid getting shot at again," Serah had advised, and that was the only thing keeping her from grabbing the two guards in a choke-hold and seeing herself inside.

Regardless of her sister's efforts at humor, saying goodbye had been no less difficult.

All of her friends in New Bodhum had been gathered on the shore when Lightning stepped outside. The Time Gate stood in the surf, the golden base washed in the fingers of the tide. Its ethereal light shone in a brilliance that eclipsed the moon, and its otherworldly song hummed across the night. Such an astounding sight should have awakened the whole town, but it was only Lightning's family that were pulled from slumber; as if the forces which governed the universe knew that this moment was just for them. Snow, Serah, Hope, Sazh, and the intrepid little chocobo chick, were all gazing in awe at the Time Gate.

"So, this is what you went through to travel in time?" Sazh was asking of Snow.

"Yeah," he replied in a daze, as if he wasn't certain that he was really awake. "It just appeared one day while I was searching. I don't get why this one's here…"

"It's here for me."

Lightning was already dressed and packed when they turned to look at her. Outfitted in her trusty Guardian Corps uniform, armed with her reliable gunblade, and with all her handful's worth of worldly belongings stuffed in a duffel bag, the easy part of leaving was finished. She almost turned around and went back inside when she saw their faces. They were shocked and confounded by her statement, save for Serah, whose expression settled with acceptance when she caught Lightning's eye.

"I don't understand," Hope said, a knot of anxiety in his throat. "What do you mean?"

Lightning crossed the moonlit sand to stand before the Gate, watching the ribbons of crystalline runes warp around its center. If she was being honest, she didn't quite understand it all herself. She could only pretend to know how Chaos reacted to the world in which it had invaded. She wasn't sure if Chaos had anything to do with a Time Gate's appearance. It could all be by Etro's design that the Gates appeared, recklessly lording Her power over the Human Realm, playing at benevolence. Or it could all be as Lightning assumed: her way of thinking had made her into a paradoxical being, one that time couldn't conform to and had to expel. Maybe it was just a matter of perspective that opened the Gates. She didn't think she'd ever know how they worked, but she knew that this one was hers.

She gulped down a ball of needles and confronted her friends' confusion. "I don't belong here. Not anymore. The fate that this world had in store for me is finished, and the rest needs to be written somewhere else."

"'Don't belong here?'" Snow echoed. "Light, of course you belong here! This is your home! I know a lot's changed, but…"

"Yeah, a lot has changed… Me, most of all. Maybe a year or two ago, I never would have considered leaving a life and place I'd known so well…but, like you said, a lot has changed."

"I don't get it!" Snow argued, voice swelling with an impassioned plea. "How could you think there's no place for you here? Is this because I married your sister, because I thought…"

"Snow, no, no! That's not it at all!"

Serah reached out and reeled him in, gently massaging his arm. He looked to her comforting presence, wide-eyed and terrified that all of this was his fault; that in his quest to be Serah's hero, he'd become Lightning's villain. Serah pursed her lips together and searched for a way to explain it to him. She glanced at Lightning for permission to try and justify her heart. Serah was the only one whom Lightning had confided the whole truth of her journey to. While Snow had borne witness to the ends of it all, Lightning guessed that during his time back home and while lost in the joys of marital bliss, whatever he'd interpreted of Lightning's connection to Noctis had been fogged over. She nodded for Serah to explain.

"When I was captured by the fal'Cie and we were separated, what did you do?"

"I came to find you, to rescue you," Snow obediently answered, eyes narrowing in even more confusion.

"Why did you come to find me?"

"'Why?' What kind of question is that? Because I love you, you know that. Nothing in the world could, or ever will, keep us apart."

"Well… You and Lightning have that in common."

"Of course! We both love you, Serah…"

She shook her head with an amused smile. "Not what I meant."

Snow searched her face for the longest time before turning back to Lightning and searching hers. Finally, Snow saw a reflection in Lightning, of a desperate cry for another half of one soul; of a stalwart longing for another person that filled the tumultuous loneliness of existing with life's rarest treasure. His memory caught up with him, recalling how his sister-in-law had failed to run into the Time Gate alongside him to reunite with Serah; how she'd turned away from the promise of seeing her sister again to embrace that man in the future; how she'd bit back tears through the entire passage of the Historia Crux.

"You were really in love with him?" he realized aloud, dumbstruck by the revelation – Lightning was almost tempted to punch him for it.

"It's not like it's exclusive to one Farron sister and not the other," Serah defended her sister.

Snow flushed red with embarrassment when he realized he was staring at Lightning like she had five thousand heads. He started blubbering apologies in response to Serah's playful chastising, and while he was distracted with recomposing himself, Lightning turned to the others. Sazh stood with crossed arms, shaking his head in amazement, while the chocobo chick – finally named as Chocolina – peered inquisitively out at her from her patron's hair.

"Just when I think I've got you all figured out, you've got to go on and surprise me," Sazh sighed, sounding exhausted.

"Gotta keep you on your toes," Lightning joked, smothering the lump in her throat.

He'd been the first companion to accompany her on their journey as l'Cie, occupying a fathership role she'd been too young to remember of her own father before he died. In spite of all the trauma she'd put him through along the tracks to the Vestige, Sazh had never abandoned her. She didn't know if that was because he was too frightened to go off on his own, or something else. He'd been a nuisance to her progress, and when they finally found Serah, Lightning thought she'd have to kill him before he tried to kill her sister. That all seemed like a half-remembered nightmare compared to where they stood now.

"I don't know what you expect me to say," he said. "If you've made up your mind, there ain't no way in hell I'm gonna argue with it. You've just gotta tell me one thing, though, so I know this punk you're running off to is actually worth the effort."

"Alright," she said, indulging him the parental instinct.

"How often has he managed to crack that scowl of yours into a smile?"

Her lips curled up of their own accord, in warm remembrance and fondness of Sazh's romantic requirements.

"Often enough," she answered, and her smile was proof enough for Sazh that he could bid her a blessing with his farewell.

"Good luck, soldier," he said, softly, joined by a chirp from Chocolina.

She nodded her thanks – for far more than just the luck.

Hope's eyes were distant when she faced him, aimed at the crystal pillar, far off on the horizon. A thousand thoughts and a thousand more feelings tumbled through his brain, clawing for a way to reconcile the present reality with his imagined future. His true future, the one that Lightning had seen with her own eyes, he would build on his own. He'd earn his own success, with or without her hovering over his shoulder. She wished she could tell him everything that was ahead of him if it could make this goodbye any easier, but she wouldn't risk the pressure that may put on him. And besides, she didn't want to spoil all the surprises that life had in store for him. Her only regret for him was that she wouldn't be there for his wedding and wouldn't meet his first children that would begin the legendary dynasty of his legacy.

"Hope…"

He cringed a little, unprepared for having to finally meet her eyes and know it may be the last time he saw them. Nevertheless, Hope drew upon all the bravery that he'd cultivated across their journey together, and pulled his chin up to meet her gaze. He kept his tears in check, wielding a restraint over himself that was more mature than his years. There was a quiver to his shoulders that exposed his fear of saying goodbye, but he spited that fear with a brave face. Courage could only thrive off of fear, and only if you could control it. Lightning smiled, touched by a pride in how far he'd come from the scared, sniffling little l'Cie she'd first met, so full of despair that it crippled him. Now, he stood tall over who he used to be.

"You're going to be okay," she assured him, in complete confidence.

Hope gave her a rough nod, and said, "Even if we're not in the same world, I want you to know, I'll keep watching your back. Always."

"And I'll watch yours. Always."

Hope forced himself to smile, comforted by the fact that, even though she would be gone, she'd never truly leave him.

The hardest farewell of all was to Serah. There was a long silence between them before Lightning found the strength to open her mouth. Before she could get any words out though, Serah gasped, "Wait just one second!" and ran back into the house. Lightning waited with Snow, who gave her a look of such forlorn distress that it put a kicked moogle to shame.

"Stay true to your vows, got it?" Lightning barked, nudging her fist into his chest. "If you break my sister's heart, I will know, I'll find a way back here, and I'll bring the entire royal army reserve, just to kick your ass."

"Not even if it meant getting you back would I do that," he chuckled, but it was a hollow noise.

"I'm counting on you," she pressed. "Serah's plenty strong on her own, but there will be times you have to be stronger for her. Promise me that you'll do that. Never stop being her hero."

A thin, glistening line crested at the edges of his eyes. "I won't let you down… I'm gonna miss you, sis."

"I never thought I'd say it, but I'll miss you, too."

Snow snorted in laughter and ducked his head so she couldn't see him cry.

Serah rushed back then, looking a little red-eyed herself like she'd shed her tears where Lightning couldn't see them so she could instead send her off with a smile. She'd brought something with her, which she pressed into Lightning's hands.

"I've held onto it since you disappeared, and I didn't give it back because I hoped you wouldn't need it. Try to avoid getting shot at again over there, and use it if you have to, okay?"

It was the last birthday present Serah had ever given her, or ever would. It was the last reminder Lightning had of her sister before the world collapsed around them. The hunting knife was a little dusty, the edges just starting to rust, but it was still as sharp and practical as the day she'd pulled it out of the box. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Hope's gaze linger on it, bolstering his own self-pride as it reminded him of just how much he'd overcome already, and how much more he would in the future.

"Are you sure you don't want to keep it?" Lightning asked with a sad smile. "As something to remember me by?"

"I don't need a souvenir to keep you in my memory."

Lightning looked upon her for the last time, memorizing every detail of her face – so much like her own, yet so different. Wide, cerulean eyes, so full of wonder and hope; a pink-lipped smile as luminescent as the moonlight against the sea; skin as soft as flower petals, glowing with the light of her even softer soul. Lightning crushed her into an embrace, hiding her face so Serah wouldn't see the wetness of her eyes.

"I love you," she whispered into her hair.

"I love you back," Serah choked out.

They let the moment stretch on for as long as it took in order to absorb every last bit of meaning within the words.

"This isn't goodbye forever," Serah said when she eventually pulled away, blinking back tears. "We'll see each other again someday… I just know we will."

"Nothing's impossible," Lightning reminded her in agreement.

She stepped back to survey all of their faces. They were all so different from the first days they'd met, so ready to make their lives their own again: Sazh's sadness was a pale shadow beneath the brightness of his joy; Hope's rage was tempered into iron-worked confidence; Snow's recklessness had been tamed into wisdom; and Serah endured as their central star, her loneliness banished by eternal love. There was a flicker of movement on the sand behind them, and when Lightning glanced over their shoulders, she saw Fang and Vanille, waving goodbye. They were only there for the length of a heartbeat, grinning in the dark, before Lightning blinked and they were gone again. She smiled, and bid them all her last farewell.

"Thank you."

The Time Gate hummed behind her, and Lightning felt her skin tingle from its magic. Odin responded to the sensation, warming in her breast-pocket. He was the only one she could take with her and he was more than a little eager to leave. Beach-side life had disagreed with him more than it did her, New Bodhum haunting him even more severely. He was looking forward to the escape.

Lightning took a deep breath and let the Gate ensconce her with light. The faces of her family smiled through crystalline tear-tracks in the moonlight, hugging one another in support as they watched her go. They would be okay, she told herself as the light covered their faces. I love them and they'll be okay. She shed her final tears for them within the spinning, timeless tunnel of the Historia Crux.

When she opened her eyes next, they were dry of tears, the crash of the ocean waves receded to the shuffling of footsteps, and the air was full of laughter instead of tears. Throngs of people were passing beyond the mouth of the alley, all of them dressed in suits and gowns. They were all moving in one direction, crowding the street with delighted discussion and excitement. For a moment, Lightning thought she'd landed in the wrong place. The Arcadia she'd first visited was cold and empty and silent; a ghost town haunted by bloodthirsty men in metal armor. This place was alight with voices and a distant orchestra of music. When she stepped out of the alley and into the traffic of people, sure enough, it was the same alley she'd first woken up in. The Archylte Energy Sciences building stood down the street, lined with hundreds of squares of light. The restaurants, the grocers, the tailors, every shop had its doors opened wide to the busy street.

Lightning melted into the transit of people, awed by the liveliness of the city. She caught words from the bubbly static of the people's voices: "ball;" "coronation;" "King Caelum and Queen Fleuret;" "we're united;" "peace." The shining black citadel of Caelum Manor crawled into view as she continued along the road, the epicenter of the people's reveling. The music she'd heard in the distance swelled from all the open doors and windows, the lonely old building now spilling out people. When she entered the courtyard, she tore her eyes away from the golden mirage to search the edifice of the Crystal's sanctum. The path to the small sanctuary was blocked off and the little she could see of it over the hill-crest was pitch-black and abandoned. Her best bet was on the party, which was where her present war was being waged.

"Listen, I'm a friend of Noct – I mean, er, His Highness, Prince Caelum…" Or is it King now? "Just, can you go find him? Or maybe Ignis, um, Mr. Scientia, I mean. He can vouch for me."

"Ma'am, firearms are not permitted on the premises and your bag needs to be checked for explosives. Cooperate or you'll be forcibly removed from the area."

From a professional perspective, she understood the need for caution. She knew that if she were in the guardsmen's positions and she saw a woman dressed as a soldier, wearing a military issued firearm, and carrying a black duffel bag up her steps, she'd detain that woman with extreme prejudice. From a personally impatient perspective though, she'd just been through the emotional ringer, desperately needed to reunite with the love of her life, and had no more patience for wasted time.

"You're not listening to me," she bit out, trying to keep herself from throwing a punch.

"You need to listen to me," one of the guardsmen barked, reaching for her arm. "Come with us."

Lightning jerked from his grip. "Do not touch me."

Just when they were all about to start drawing weapons, a voice from within the manor called their attention. "Wait, wait!"

She rushed to the door in a rustle of shimmering skirts, her violet-blue eyes wild with barely concealed panic. Stella was even more radiant than Lightning remembered, her golden hair in an artfully mussed updo. Her dress was like the dawn greeting the starlight and she drew the eye of every person she passed, although Lightning wasn't sure if the attention was for her beauty or of curiosity for the commotion. Stella drew up between the guards, breathless as she stared at Lightning, like she was witnessing the Goddess Herself, descended from Valhalla.

"This woman is my personal guest, guardsmen," she said, voice coasting on autopilot while she still stood stunned by Lightning's return. "You have my permission to let her in."

"With all due respect, Your Highness…"

Stella managed to rip her gaze away from Lightning to shoot a stern, icicle-sharp glance between the two guardsmen. She needn't say another word for them to snap back into position and leave the way open. There was the subtlest hint of smugness to Stella's smirk, but, then again, Lightning could be projecting. Stella took her hand and hurried her into the manor, her smile beaming with delight. She pulled her into a secluded archway that divided two rooms and, before Lightning could get a word of thanks out, the princess trapped her in a painful hug.

"You came back!" Stella exclaimed over the screaming in Lightning's bones. "I can't believe it! I can't believe you're actually here!"

"Not for long," Lightning wheezed.

Stella disengaged and Lightning gasped for breath, trying not to double-over from the impact of her embrace. Stella was rifling through a hundred questions while Lightning recovered, most of which narrowed down to the universal, "How is this possible?"

"All of that can wait though," she eventually concluded, holding Lightning by the shoulders. She took a hard, long look at her in order to confirm that she was, in fact, real and not an illusion of an answered prayer. A bubble of laughter popped from her chest after she blinked enough times and Lightning didn't disappear. "You're going to make him so happy."

Lightning's heart thumped a little quicker as reality caught up with her. She was back in a place she never imagined she'd see again, and so close to seeing that smile from her dreams that it all felt too good to be true. She was half uncertain that any of it was real herself.

"How has he been?" she ventured to ask, voice smaller than it sounded in her head.

"He'll be better now that you're here," Stella said, expertly answering the question without any answer at all.

Guilt hemorrhaged inside Lightning's stomach, even though it was what Stella sought to avoid with her vague response. She hadn't given much thought to how his life would proceed with Etro's trial finished. Lightning knew she'd broken his heart because her own had done the same, and they were kindred souls; when one bled, so too did the other. Maybe those pins and needles she'd felt in her chest every time she'd searched the horizon had been a reflection of his. Maybe that feeling of imperfect completeness hadn't been a curse that haunted her alone. It wasn't a very comforting theory.

"Thanks for the help," Lightning said. "Mind giving me some directions?"

"Hold on."

Stella held up a finger, a perplexing look on her face as she looked Lightning up and down. She made some invisible calculations in the air, gave a perfunctory nod, and smiled.

"There are hundreds of guards monitoring every floor. If you want unimpeded access, you're going to need to blend in."

Lightning gave her a stony stare, knowing exactly what she meant and kind of wanting to kill her for it. She didn't know how Stella planned to make it happen, but then, Lightning remembered who she was talking to. A princess had all the power of a wizard to conjure something out of thin air, minus the blood rituals and demon summonings... Maybe.

"Is that really necessary?" she plaintively tried to argue, cringing at the sea of corseted ballroom gowns beyond Stella's shoulder.

"I want your reunion to be perfect. I owe you that small relief for how much you've done for my friend. Now, don't move! Gentiana will take care of your personal effects and I'll be right back."

The princess darted off as quickly as the glint of a shooting star. Lightning was left to a feeling of mortal dread that promptly devolved to horror when she met "Gentiana." The woman came from the shadows like a whisper. Lightning had no idea how long she'd been standing there, mere inches from where Stella had been. Cold fingers coiled into fists, both inside and out. She was drastically different, standing straight and prim where Her former host slouched; her dress had a plain elegance about it, but was no less leagues more ostentatious than a hoodie and jeans; her face was constructed to contoured perfection, lips neatly rouged instead of roughly chapped, her eyes painstakingly brushed as if with the shadows She thrived in. She had the same dark hair as Her previous host and the same green eyes, although these were sharper, deadlier, more obviously inhuman if one had encountered them before.

The woman's mouth was curved in a perpetual smile, but there was no meaning to it until someone else gave it some. Lightning gave it spite: a sadistic pleasure at seeing her reaction, a wicked joy for returning to the scene of Her crimes. Her voice was like black honey when she spoke.

"May I take your things, ma'am?"

Lightning didn't move at first, unsure. Was it really Her? Or was Lightning only seeing danger where there was none? No, her instincts had yet to steer her wrong. She'd been made to doubt them plenty, but in the end, they'd always been right. This woman was Etro, possessing yet another throw-away soul, but to what end, Lightning had no clue.

"What are you doing here," Lightning demanded, surprised at how cool her voice sounded when her blood was on fire.

"I'm Princess Fleuret's political adviser, soon to be Right Hand of the Queen of Tenebrae. Wherever my lady goes, I follow."

Lightning's eyes narrowed at how easily the façade fit Her. She was more Herself in this role, not deigning to disguise her manipulative nature beneath any endearing eccentricities. It was easier to distrust her now than it had been with Katrina, easier to see Her for what She was. Yet, She still had everybody fooled.

"Was the prince no longer to your taste?" Lightning bit out.

The woman blinked, hardly a flutter of movement on her placid face that feigned confusion.

"Prince Caelum's court was lacking in empty positions. Besides that, I find my skills are better tailored to my lady's needs."

Skills. Was that really what She called it? What was Her purpose now? How did She think She was going to manipulate Stella, and what did She expect to get from her? How could Lightning warn her?

"Is something the matter, ma'am?"

She turned her head ever so slightly on its side. Such a human tick. She played it so well. How could a god, whom understood Her creations so poorly, act as one so authentically? How could Lightning defeat Her? She silently felt for Odin, through their psychic link. He would know Her weaknesses better than Lightning did, having resided in Valhalla under Her rule for so much longer. He would hate Her, even more, for discarding the Eidolons to the earth, where their war ravaged hundreds of human souls.

She was stunned to find that no such rage was burning through Odin's eidolith. He was cool with indifference, sleeping comfortably in her pocket. He had no reaction towards the woman named Gentiana, none that could confirm Lightning's fears. Was she wrong, then? She couldn't be, not when the woman bore such an uncanny resemblance to Katrina. The Goddess clearly had a preference. Gentiana's appearance couldn't be a coincidence… Or maybe Lightning was just seeing ghosts. The woman's stare measured Lightning in uncertainty, like she didn't know if she should run from her or try to help her. Lightning remembered that Gentiana had asked her a question.

"No," she answered in a half-lie. "No, sorry. I was mistaking you for someone else."

Lightning was hesitant to hand over her things, but regardless of her suspicions, she wanted to be prepared for when Stella returned. Gentiana's own suspicion was gently lapped away, like the wash of a small stream, with just a tweak of her ghostly smile.

"Will you be staying in Arcadia after tonight's festivities?" she asked, casually enough, holding Lightning's duffel bag and gunblade, as if the weapon was perfectly mundane cargo.

"I expect to, yeah."

"Perhaps we'll meet again at a later occasion."

Lightning's eyes narrowed, not sure if she should take that as a polite human sentiment or a divine warning. Whether she was Etro or not, Lightning wouldn't know that night. Stella returned and all of Lightning's fears were eclipsed by bone-shuddering anxiety. Her "disguise" for blending into the crowd was draped over the princess's arm and Lightning wanted to argue against it even more. She was trained in the art of stealth, she could slip through the manor undetected if she needed to. She was a soldier, she knew how to handle herself in any situation.

"Handle yourself into this dress, Miss Soldier," Stella countered when presented with the argument, dragging Lightning by the collar of her jacket to the nearest dressing room.

"You know, this ball is intended as a gift for Princess Fleuret's coronation, but I think a better present to Her Highness would be for you to enjoy yourself."

Noctis rolled his eyes, downing a gulp of champagne to drown out Ignis's voice. He and Stella were a match made in his own personal hell tonight. He'd come up to the balcony for some solitude, but between Ignis and Stella's revolving turns of checking up on him, the balcony had provided him anything but. He didn't get why they were bothering him about his behavior so frequently now when, all their lives, he'd made it abundantly clear it was impossible for him to enjoy these overblown events.

"Stella knows how much I support her. I don't need to prance around and make a fool of myself to prove it."

"The only way you'd look foolish is by sulking alone in the dark when everyone else is celebrating their freedom."

"Then, let them celebrate."

"If I didn't know you better, I'd think you were the only one here who was sad that the war is over."

"Good thing you know me better."

Noctis gave him a wry smirk that only seemed to give Ignis a headache by the way he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Alright," Ignis went on. "If you're not going to have fun, how about you take this opportunity to make some more alliances? I've noticed the Lady of Accordo glancing your way more than once tonight. Arcadia could use some more friends there."

"I don't think friendship is exactly what the Countess has in mind. And you know the second I turn down her advances, the next question will be, 'when do I plan on proposing to Stella?' If I have to hear that one more time…"

"People have been asking you that for practically a decade. You always seem to have fun dancing around that one."

"It's gotten less amusing and more annoying now."

Ignis had nothing he could say about that one. The more time that passed without any further threats that may indicate the war wasn't truly over, the more comfortable people became with their more frivolous inclinations. The questions had switched from "what are you going to do about the war" to "what are you going to do about a wife?" It was no less difficult to answer.

"I'm sure there's plenty of people here who don't have marriage on the brain."

He sounded even less convinced than Noctis felt, and finally suspended his campaign to get the prince to mingle. Noctis tried not to gloat with the victory. Ignis sighed, defeated, leaning heavily against the balustrade. The two men looked out upon the sparkling city, carpeting the earth as thickly as the stars in the heavens.

"I hear that further out in the Duscae Region, the sky is so clear that you can see shooting stars every night," Ignis mused. "Can you remember the last time we saw one of those?"

Not since he was very young, Noctis thought. Not since before he'd been chosen as the next Guardian. His childhood felt like a life that hadn't been his. It was like a story he'd read in some book that he couldn't remember the title of. That child, who searched for comets in the skies and frogs in the gardens, had been so fascinated by the world, opening his heart to it without any fear that it could be broken. That child had been indestructible, unafraid, and so full of wonder. Noctis wished he knew that child's name.

"We should all head out there sometime," Ignis said. "Maybe make a few wishes, see if the universe can hear them."

"Thought you didn't believe in that superstitious crap."

"I wouldn't mind converting for having a wish or two come true."

Ignis looked at him, but Noctis hid himself inside of his glass, shutting his eyes to the prayer behind his friend's spectacles. Ignis didn't pursue the thought further, instead patting Noctis on the back and leaving him to his seclusion.

Noctis gulped down a ball of needles and tried to banish the self-loathing thoughts before they appeared. His friends just wanted what was best for him. They were just trying to help, to stay patient while not staying stagnant, to try giving him happiness without hurrying him through grief. He had to love them for that, not hate himself for it. He had to stop making curses out of blessings. He had to stop excluding happiness for misery.

Maybe Ignis was right, and he should try to see this party from a less cynical point of view. His people were free. All people were free. There were representatives there from countries and capitals that had been too frightened to travel from the safety of home with the war raging across so many lands. Maybe the laughter he'd been listening to all night was only as shallow as he imagined it to be. If he tried, maybe he could salvage some participation out of the night. His friends had been trying so hard for him; wasn't it about time he did some trying of his own in return? The festivities were hours underway, but a prince's absence was easily forgiven with the right smile.

Noctis took a deep breath and looked at his reflection in the champagne glass. "Have fun. Drink a lot," he advised himself. There was no shortage of champagne or royals getting happy off it. Maybe it'd be easier to mingle than he'd feared.

He was about to finish off the glass, but paused. There was a mirage within the amber mirror. The golden glass pictured the room of dresses and suits behind his shoulder. For a moment, they all seemed to melt into the bubbles and the only person the glass showed was her. A figment, conjured from his heartache, that looked as beautiful as the picture in his memory. It was a cruel trick of his Crystal-glazed eyes, perhaps trying to dissuade him from the effort it'd take to socialize. He tried to blink the illusion from his gaze, but the reflection remained, just as stubborn as she herself was.

A delicate sensation coasted through him then, one that he hadn't felt since she'd left. It was a feeling of knowing, of certainty, of illumination. His eyes saw things clearly now since he'd returned from the dead. There was no blinding them, no clouding them, even if it was by his own will. He didn't see ghosts, he didn't see what he wanted to; he only saw what was. He felt a shaking inside of his bones and a wild drumbeat in his blood. Terrified that if he turned his face to the room, the image would disappear, Noctis slowly turned around.

The glass shattered against the floor.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"Oh, don't be so dramatic. It's working isn't it?"

Of course, Stella was right. There were hundreds of security guards stationed throughout the manor, but none of them gave Lightning a second glance now that she was "incognito." The gown was tasteful and understated: dark red and plain as could be – as far as ball-gowns went. She hadn't been able to part with Odin – especially not into Gentiana's hands – so, he slept around her neck, hanging off a silver chain that Stella bound him to with a wave of her magical fingers. Like a goddamn fairy godmother.

Stella guided her upstairs, the flights of steps completely unrecognizable from the silent, skeletal stairs Lightning had climbed before. Lit sconces lined the walls, connected by banners of velvet ribbons. Golden urns of flowers perfumed the halls, the gilded frames of the family art collection gleamed with fresh polish, and all of the closed, black doors were set open. The more she absorbed of the place, the more Lightning worried that she had, in fact, fallen into the wrong timeline.

Familiar faces continued to assure her of the opposite. They passed through a dining room where Prompto and Gladiolus were acting as the stars of some impromptu comedy routine, making the whole room roar with laughter. They didn't notice Lightning, but there would be plenty of time to relish in their slack-jawed surprise later. They passed Cor and Regis, the latter of which nearly spit his drink when he recognized the woman hooked on Stella's arm. He managed to regain himself with all his kingly dignity while Cor lifted a toasting glass to Lightning as they passed.

At the foot of the final stairs, Stella was called away by a little group of giggling socialites. She unhinged herself from Lightning's side and pointed her up the stairs with an encouraging smile. Before she vanished, Lightning caught her one last time.

"Thank you," she said.

Stella smiled. "If you're sticking around for the long haul, I look forward to getting to know you better, Lightning. As friends."

"Then, to get started, you can call me Light. My friends call me Light."

Stella's smile grew even brighter, like Lightning had just bestowed upon her a gift she'd been wishing for all her life. "Light… That's perfect."

The princess bid her farewell, joining the group of girls and disappearing into the manor's maze of rooms. Lightning was on her own, and she didn't know why that made her nervous. She had no reason to be… He'd be happy to see her, right? Stella said he would be. Why did Lightning think he might not? Because it couldn't be that easy; she had to make it more difficult by doubting what she knew. Lightning took a breath and shook her head, banishing the punishing thoughts from her mind. The hard parts were all behind her. This was easy. This was her reward. This was what she wanted.

Lightning ascended the stairs, using the railing for balance because she hadn't walked in heels in about a thousand years. It was torture, but it was worth it, she promised herself. Everything would be worth it. Everything would be okay.

Halfway up the stairs, she was almost trampled by Ignis on his way down. His apology came out on reflex for the near collision before her sharp, "Watch where you're going," made him recoil in shock. He backed up a step above her and stared, uncomprehending, at her wicked smirk. He even took off his glasses and cleaned the lenses on his shirt before replacing them and realizing that, no, she wasn't some amalgamation of dust obscuring his vision. He coughed then, in order to turn his face away to compose himself, struggling to maintain a casual calm in her presence.

"Back to cause more trouble, then?"

"You know your life was getting boring without me."

"I assure you that wasn't the case. Everything was just about back to normal… Just about."

He pinioned her with his stare – that pointed, dissecting stare that she loathed more than anything – but there was something different about it now. The scalpel-sharp edge was a little bit softer, a little bit relieved. It was only there for a flicker of a moment, gone so quickly that Lightning thought she may have imagined it. He pushed his glasses further up his nose, straightened out his jacket, and took a curt step around her.

"Do try not to break anything."

"I'll reserve that for your nose."

She smiled the rest of the way upstairs and felt him do the same on the way down.

The room she arrived in was massive and full of people. There were hors d'oeuvres tables against two walls and a line of balconies opened to the night view on the furthest one. There was a chandelier, wider than Odin was tall, glittering like a diamond overhead. A small band played softly in one corner, conducting a few pockets of dancers among the gossipers. The density of the crowd immediately disheartened Lightning. She didn't know the first trick to navigating these people. She almost wished Stella had stuck around so she could part the sea with a sweep of her queenly arm.

Lightning hovered near the top of the stairs, searching the endless mob for a hint of that smile. She leaned against the end of the stairway railing, next to a vase of sweet-smelling flowers. She glanced at them for a second and they captured her full attention. She remembered them fondly, the roses. How they'd struggled to survive in the lobby of his home, how they'd been dead on her arrival. She remembered when they'd been changed, cleared out for an array of full blooms – red, white, and pink. The ones she faced now were all pink, the same color of the one he'd given her in her dream. The same color of her hair.

The sound of a glass breaking dimmed the voices in the room. Lightning looked up to follow the noise with the rest of the crowd.

And she found him.

Seeing him felt like no time had passed at all and yet, he looked at her like a million years had gone by. There were times where she'd been terrified that she would forget his face, forget the way it felt to read the unspoken stories his eyes told. All of her fears were resolved in an instant. Any lingering doubts in her decision, any unexpected rankling of her nerves, anything at all which could weigh down her happiness upon seeing him again, was snuffed out like a small flame.

His eyes were desperate, pleading with something unseen for her to be real. She knew the face of seeing ghosts well, the hunger for it to be true and the mistrust in your own mind not to believe it. She wished that she'd uncovered the cure for hauntings when they had plagued her, enough to give him a sign that proved she was real. But, the only antidote came from within. You had to trust your own eyes to recognize reality from fantasy. Trust your own heart.

It had been an impossible task for Noctis in the past, but, now, that trust came so much easier. A pained expression crossed his face, but it wasn't the bad kind of pain. It was the kind of pain that came from a hurtful kind of happiness, the sort of happiness that made your spirit strain beneath your skin because it couldn't be contained. It was the kind of happiness that hurt so much it made her want to cry and laugh and fall and run. The kind of happiness that couldn't be faked.

They rushed across the room, people parting because guests moved for princes and moved quicker for soldiers, whom had a presence to be respected even out of uniform. At the center, they crashed, fitting into an embrace like puzzle pieces finally finding a complete picture. Hands dug into cloth and skin, bruising and starving for nearness, devouring all of the space that had kept them apart. Touch had been so rare and fleeting, so delicate and restrained that the memory of it almost felt like a punishment in comparison to the present. It had been like reaching through prison bars for each other, but the sentence was finally lifted now. She breathed in deep the scent of him, piney and musky, and so comforting; so familiar. Serah had been right: Bodhum was where she was born, but, here, with this man, was truly home.

Noctis made a broken, wet sound against her neck, and every second that they stayed together, they held each other harder. They'd had to let go once, but they could never do it again. Not now. There could never be another goodbye. The partings, the endings were all finished. There could only be beginnings from then on. And they were both finally ready for that. They'd spent too long in the past, trapped by things left unfinished, by debts left unpaid. Their honors were re-built now, stronger even than they'd been before. Neither of them had felt freedom like this, felt like they didn't have to look over their shoulders, waiting for disaster to catch up with them. They could finally see the future.

"How are you here?" he asked, voice scarred with emotion and muffled in her hair.

"Through stubbornness alone, probably," she said, somehow finding it in her to laugh.

Her humor gave him the courage to laugh, as well, the lost noise drumming up through his chest and against hers. He loosened his vice grip he had on her just enough so he could draw back and see her face. His eyes were bright and shimmering like coastal lanterns lighting her way home.

"Your sister?"

"Happily married. Went and got all grown up on me," she answered, choking on the picture of Serah left on heart.

He paused, searching her face for any signs of regret, waiting to feel his own guilt for drawing her back and away from her family. Lightning pressed her hands on his shoulders, grounding him with her decisiveness. If she had no doubts then, neither could he.

"I'll see them again someday, but, for now, going back was for closure, not for permanence. This, here, is where I really belong. I know that now. I've never been so sure of anything in my life, I promise you."

He stared at her, swimming in the icy blue conviction of her eyes. The solidity of her presence, the power in her hands, and the passion in her voice were all too strong to be a dream. She was really there. She was really back to stay. An old question returned to ghost about his brain for one final time: Was it selfish for him to be happy? Was it wrong for him to be glad she'd returned at the cost of what she'd left behind?

It wasn't selfish to be in love, especially not if she'd decided the same. Lightning's gaze was carved by clarity, that puncturing determination unmarked by indecision.

She loved him and he loved her, and it was finally just that simple.

He caught her by surprise when he kissed her. He kept catching her off guard. She still hated it for that single second before she loved it. Her arms folded around his neck and the world was so much softer to her than it had been. The way she'd kissed him the first time had been terrifying because it cost them both everything, because love had been a hostage to Etro's strings that She would take away from them at any moment. This kiss was how it should have been from the start. Quiet, gentle, and made their hearts race with hope, not fear.

Distantly, Lightning heard the orchestra raising its instruments for a waltz. When she turned from the kiss to peer at them, she was almost certain she saw black skirts receding from beside the conductor's ear. The mass of people in the room slowly separated into pairs, and a rhythm bobbed from head to head as the room began to dance. When she looked back at Noctis, she was horrified to find his smile filled with intention. She quickly tried to protest.

"Do not ask me to – "

"Dance with me?"

Lightning's first instinct was to rebel, but it puffed out in her chest like a cloud of dust. He bribed her with that stupid, perfect smile that had called for her in slumber until she answered. He raised a hand between them, and what had come as such a struggle to her at the start, came so naturally to her now. She took his hand as easily as she took a breath, and was swept into the dance.

It wasn't as horrific as she'd feared. The company certainly made it easier. The movements came effortlessly to him and she was a quick learner. Rhythm and precision was principle in combat training. You had to know your opponent to pace a fight and the same went for dancing, she discovered. She'd fought him once, knew the way his body moved, the way his steps were placed. She settled into the ebb and flow, the two of them moving in perfect harmony, threading languid circuits around the crowded room.

"You've done this before?" Noctis observed, pleasantly surprised.

"Does senior prom count?"

He chuckled. "You went to prom?"

"Not by choice, trust me. It's a long story."

"We've got time."

It had been a resource neither of them had enough of. Not enough time to think. Not enough time to breathe. Not enough time to love. It had always been against them, separating them with history and logic and duty. And just like that, it had no power over them anymore. Time was theirs to do with what they willed. Again, Lightning was struck by how right Serah's foresight had been. Nothing was impossible.

The dance went on, for how long, neither of them knew. They were quiet for most of it, talking in silence, in the way that they watched each other, in the way that they held onto each other. For the first time in a very long time, all the noise in their heads was extinguished. The only question that remained was what to do with all the time in the world? It was a question that made them both smile without an answer. Having no answers had driven them both mad, but this one didn't need finding. This mystery had no consequence, no cost. It was a journey they gave themselves, to be followed on their own terms. Life was finally theirs again.

The crowd started to thin, the music started to fade, but they kept moving, slower, absent-minded circles. Words played at the tip of Noctis's tongue. Lightning's hand slipped down his arm to enclose his fingers in hers, a touch in the dark to pull him through the other side. Their eyes met, vast and thoughtful and full of an innocence that hadn't been allowed freedom.

"You know, I never believed in happily ever after," he said. "I didn't think it'd ever end. The war. The hate. The endless cycle of destruction. I thought I'd die one day never knowing what change felt like, a purposeless, lonely death. But, when I died that day, it wasn't alone, and it wasn't without worth. I finally felt like there was a reason for all that pain. That I could make a sacrifice and it wouldn't be for nothing. You helped me find what I'd forgotten, what all of the fighting was for. To protect what I loved."

Lightning swallowed the hollow feeling in her chest when she remembered his death and what that had done to her, how "Lightning" had become more than just a name.

"If I hadn't met you when I first fell into this place," she said. "I'm not sure what would have happened. When it came to saving the people I cared about, I would have destroyed anything that got in my way. Nothing mattered but the mission if it was for my friends…but, life is too valuable to rush through it. I gave everything I had to one goal and saved nothing of myself for anything else. I was ruining myself, more than I wanted to ruin the rest of the world. But, you… You saw me at my worst and it wasn't a crime. It was safe to feel again. To not be afraid of my own heart."

They knew these things, but had never been able to say them. There had been too much risk to hearing the words, but there were no more punishments to hide from. Everything was raw and real. No more concepts, no more circling the truth. This bond – this quiet, patient bond – was impenetrable. Like the cosmic chains that linked stars to infinity, they were eternal.

A sharp pop and a spray of color brightened the night sky. A delighted buzz swelled over the guests and they all converged upon the balconies. Another burst of color cracked overhead, then another, and another, coloring the awed faces below in reds and greens and violets and more.

"Fireworks…"

For a moment, Lightning was drawn back in time once more, to that hot summer night on the shore. Lights rippled across the sky, people stood all around her, laughing and blissfully ignorant of the horrors the next day would bring. Everybody was making wishes for trivial things on a bunch of firecrackers they thought were magic. She remembered wishing that night, too. She remembered wishing for a miracle.

"What is it?"

Noctis touched her hand, in that soft, gentle way that he touched the whole world with. And his eyes had that same earnest curiosity that made them look so much younger than they were.

"It all started with fireworks," she mused, picturing that moment in the past like it was of another life.

That woman had been so small under the weight of her mistakes. She'd been so afraid to face them and to lose what little there was left in her life to cherish. Now, her life was so full, so unbroken. It almost didn't feel like it was hers.

But, he put his arm around her and everything just fit. Everything made sense where she couldn't make it on her own. The weight of too many worlds wasn't on her shoulders anymore. The threat of losing too many lives was no longer on his. They found each other within that calm, that stillness, that peaceful silence. Neither of them could survive without a partner, and for too long, those partners had been their own tormentors: a mission, a goddess, a penance, a crystal, a birthright.

This was true completeness. A true start. A true trust in someone other than themselves, someone to carry those years of hurt and loneliness into something more. Into happiness. Two roses, killed by the strain of living off poison, brought back to life by something as simple as a touch.

They held each other, in the shadows behind the rest of the world. Illuminated by the lights in the night sky.

THE END

A/N: I was going to write a big long, sappy speech, but I figured the story itself caused enough crying on it's own, right? I'm just going to keep this short because getting to this point took long enough. I think part of the reason this story had such a long, slow-updating journey was in part because I didn't want to let it go. I wanted it to last as long as possible because this experience has been the pinnacle of my life here on fanfiction. No story I'd written in the past had received such generous, passionate praise from the audience, no story I'd written had received so much love and attentiveness from the people reading it. I've said it before, but I cannot press upon you guys enough how much you all helped to keep this story going. When getting lost in the prison of writer's block, it was your comments that dragged me out to get the next chapter up. I know it's ironic that the writer can't come up with the words to express her thanks when it took hundreds of thousands of words to write twenty chapters worth of content, but I really cannot convey how much you've all meant to me. From the bottom of my teensy tiny heart, thank you guys so much for such a rewarding experience. I hope I could give you as much of a reward with this final chapter.

It was always going to end in a dance, and a dance needs music! So, as my final gift to all of you, I've compiled the official Dead Roses soundtrack for your listening enjoyment! You can find it on my profile. Think of it as a very long credits roll.

Thank you all, so much! :)