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Fleeing the Desert Castle – One Year Before Cataclysm
Edgar wasn’t a particularly light sleeper, but he was also used to a certain level of comfort.
One that involved a supportive mattress, blankets, and soft pillows – none of which were to be found in the northern Figaro plains. So it was really no surprise that he kept startling awake at odd times throughout the night.
The new nightmares didn’t help either.
Figaro burned in a blazing maelstrom. Lost and disoriented, he could do nothing to prevent the destruction as his kingdom crumbled to ash around him.
A piercing cackle cut through the wails of his subjects. His heart rate spiked, catapulting him into consciousness.
Too uncomfortable in body and spirit to return to sleep, he groaned up at the moon. He shook his head to clear it and stood. Rolling his neck to ease the stiffness, he let his gaze drift over their campsite.
Locke was lounging against a nearby boulder. He looked to be dozing, but one could never really tell with him. Edgar glanced at the banked campfire. He frowned.
The girl wasn’t in her usual spot.
His first reaction was anger that she’d wander off when they were still so close to danger. His second was more charitable – there were, after all, several benign reasons to seek privacy away from camp.
The moments ticked by with no sign of her. Irritation returned, only to be quickly replaced with concern – for her safety or theirs, Edgar couldn’t say.
He’d just set out to search for her when a low warble from the chocobos caught his attention. Moving slowly through the dark, he approached the discontented birds. If they missed their stable half as much as he missed his bed, he couldn’t begrudge them their attitude.
The quiet voice that answered their squawks stopped him in his tracks.
Squinting against the shadows, Edgar could just make out her shape against the chocobos’ gold feathers. She gently stroked their beaks, murmuring replies as they chirped and rustled.
Edgar’s shoulders relaxed. She hadn’t brought Imperials down on their heads. She was safe. They were safe.
With one last backward glance, he returned to the campfire and pulled out his crossbow. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well keep watch.
When the girl finally crept back to camp, she glanced his way. If she wanted to speak, she couldn’t work up the nerve.
That was fine. For once, he wouldn’t know what to say.
-●-
Crossing the Mountains to Jidoor – Three Months Before Cataclysm
Edgar startled awake. He thought maybe he’d been woken by a sharp noise, but he was too groggy to think on it clearly. Arching his back to remove the rock digging into his spine, he groaned.
He’d never get used to camping.
Climbing to his feet, he began to pace, wearily shaking the stiffness from his limbs before he’d attempt to go back to sleep. He took stock of the campsite as he made his circuit.
Celes stood guard a short way away. She nodded to acknowledge him, but made no move to chat. Locke was stretched out asleep, bandanas pulled low over his eyes. Sabin sprawled supine across from him, limbs splayed, mouth open.
Edgar shook his head affectionately and looked up. Here in the mountains, the night sky was a riot of stars, beautiful in its hectic glory.
Rather like Terra. She’d been starlight incarnate before she’d launched herself skyward, beautiful and terrible in equal measure. Maybe a goddess. Maybe a monster. Certainly not human.
A shooting star flashed as it fell and Edgar closed his eyes.
He’d long regretted his harsh words in Figaro’s caves. “Nothing natural”, he’d spat at her before he understood why it would hurt her so terribly.
He couldn’t tell if he’d been proven right.
There’d been no trace of the gentle spirit he’d come to care for and no recognition in her eyes, usually so expressive, turned feral. Instead, he’d faced flashing claws and teeth and animal rage.
He still didn’t know if he was afraid of her or afraid for her.
But then she’d screamed and fled.
Maybe she was afraid too.
A loud snort yanked him from his thoughts and he snapped his head around to find the source. His eyes landed on his brother right as Sabin let out another snuffling snore. Edgar swallowed. His throat felt scratchy just hearing the ragged sound.
Well, that explained what woke him.
Sabin snored again. Edgar trudged over and nudged him with his toe. His worry over Terra would probably keep him awake, but he stood absolutely no chance of sleeping if Sabin kept this up. His brother responded by letting out another snore, louder than the first. Edgar huffed a breath through his nose and kicked him. Sabin rolled over with a grunt and mumbled. But the snoring stopped.
Edgar returned to his spot to try and get comfortable. Staring up at the sky, he knew sleep would elude him.
They had to find her. She needed them.
-●-
In an Alley in Nikeah – Ten Months Post-Cataclysm
These days, it was fair to say he was a light sleeper. One had to be when one kept the company he did.
Of course, the nightmares still played their part. His collection had only grown in the wake of Kefka’s ascent to godhood. Given the revolving door of horrors that waited behind his eyes if he dared close them too long, Edgar didn’t think anyone could blame him for limiting himself to catnaps and light dozes.
Not getting stabbed in his sleep was just a bonus.
“Gerad!” Someone nudged him none-too-gently with a hard-toed boot. “Move yer drunk arse! Boss wants ter see yeh.”
Edgar cracked an eye open. He’d dozed off sitting up, enveloped in his tattered cape. A face as battered and filthy as his own peered down at him. He grunted an acknowledgement and waved the thug away.
Pushing himself up the wall, he stretched, listening to his spine and hips pop. The dingy walls of the alley provided shelter from the wind and dry lightning, but did absolutely nothing for his back.
He absently scratched at his cheek as he made his way towards the tavern. The scars he’d gotten when the Blackjack's engines exploded had stopped itching, but the perpetual stubble he sported these days sure did.
His mouth twisted in a wry grin. No one would recognize him as the King of Figaro in his current state. All for the better, really. The gang of thieves he’d fallen in with kept bragging about breaking out of the castle’s dungeons. It had taken some time, far too much alcohol, and more bar fights than he’d anticipated, but he’d worked his way into their good graces. With the help of more alcohol and more brawls, he’d been manipulating them into returning to rob the place and so lead him home.
The Boss didn’t like that.
Hence the summons.
Edgar had been subtly goading him for weeks now. He palmed his knife, silently thanking Locke for teaching him, and approached the tavern door. Adopting an off-balance stagger, he hoped to ride the assumption he was drunk long enough to push Boss into taking a swing at him.
Thieves’ Code said Edgar could stab him with impunity then. The gang would support his takeover if he played it right.
He missed his real friends. The thought made him pause, hand on the door. He missed the trust, the comradery. He missed his brother. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He missed Terra. Had she understood what he’d meant with the necklace? He should’ve been clearer. He should’ve—
It didn’t matter now. With no sign of anyone in almost a year, Edgar could only assume they were dead.
Nothing else to do but focus on getting his kingdom back.
He pushed the door open and stumbled in, knife hidden at his wrist.
He’d mourn later.
-●-
In the Desert Castle – One Year Post-Cataclysm
There was a time he’d thought regaining his own bed would solve his sleep woes.
They’d been in the Desert Castle over a month now and he still woke at the slightest provocation, whether internal or external. Nightmares were a given at this point, but someone could cough too loudly in the corridor outside his chamber and he’d snap awake, fully alert, knife in hand.
Usually the epitome of comfort, when he startled awake, his room was too hot, too cloying, and too closed.
This time, Edgar decided to forgo the vain tossing and turning and take a stroll around the battlements. Donning loose pants and a singlet, he wrapped himself in his worn cape and made his way outside.
For once, the sky was clear, unmarred by storms or Kefka’s creeping corruption.
He took a deep breath of the chill desert air and released it slowly. Nights like this were rare these days. He should savor it.
His friends were alive. His brother was alive.
He should savor that too.
But as he stared up at the moon, he found his mind wandering southeast. The others assured him Terra was as safe as could be expected in this new world. He’d snorted at that, recognizing how much more perilous everyday life had become.
“Safe as could be expected” wasn’t safe at all.
But they told him she was determined to stay, that she’d found peace and purpose eking out an existence with her orphans.
He still worried. Maybe he could visit her, if only—
If only he wasn’t a king who had a kingdom to rebuild and a tyrannical god to topple. If only he hadn’t been forced away from his people for years and now had to earn back everyone’s trust. If only he wasn’t shackled to his throne and could leave on a whim. If only, if only, if only…
He sighed and wondered if she could see the moon in Mobliz, or if it was hidden behind the perpetually roiling clouds of Kefka’s rage. Or, taking refuge underground as she had, perhaps she was cut off from the sky simply by necessity.
He hoped that wasn’t the case. She’d always loved the stars. Kefka’s Cataclysm had robbed her of fresh flowers; it hurt to think she’d been robbed of the sky too.
“Be safe, dearest.” He whispered the endearment, grateful no one was there to hear.
It was the first time he’d spoken it aloud. Raw as he was feeling right now, it felt too vulnerable to share just yet.
He continued along the battlements, allowing the nighttime chill to soothe his overheated skin.
A few laps more and maybe he could get back to sleep.
-●-
On the Gambler – Shortly After Escaping Kefka’s Tower
He’d flown them to a small inlet west of the Tzen coast and anchored them there before exhaustion took hold.
Crowded in the airship's small hold, everyone collapsed where they could find space. Cyan got the couch due to his injuries. Sabin sprawled on the floor, while Celes and Locke curled around each other in the corner by the door. That left the window seat at the back of the cabin for Edgar and Terra. Pulling her back against his chest, Edgar got them as comfortable as possible before sleep claimed him.
He woke with a crick in his neck and empty arms.
Panicked, he looked around. Everyone else was still where they’d laid down, so tired even Sabin’s raucous snores couldn’t disturb them. His heart rate slowed as he took in the peaceful scene. Moving gingerly, he eased himself through the tangle of limbs, careful to avoid stepping on fingers and toes, and climbed the ladder to the deck.
To his relief, Terra was perched on the bowsprit, enjoying the ocean breeze on her face. She’d taken out her ribbon and was twisting it around her knuckles. She turned as she heard him approach, tucking her now flaxen hair behind her ears.
“That can’t have been enough sleep,” she said, hopping down to stand next to him.
“I believe I could say the same to you.” Edgar lifted an eyebrow as she laughed.
She sobered quickly, looking away as she resumed winding her ribbon around her knuckles. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s… I… No one would say magic made my life better, but—” she sighed— “I’d finally accepted it as part of me, and now it’s gone.” She glanced sidelong up at him. “I know I gave it up willingly, but I feel… empty now.”
“You’ve never known life without it,” Edgar said gently. “It only makes sense you’d mourn it like any other loss.”
Terra leaned against his side. “You don’t think I’m being… I don’t know… fickle or selfish, missing something I spent a good portion of my life trying to pretend I didn’t have?”
“Not at all.” Edgar wrapped his arm around her shoulder.
Turning so he could fully embrace her, Terra wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her cheek on his chest. Edgar rested his chin on her head and sighed. They remained so for some time, content and undisturbed.
“I know we need sleep,” Terra yawned, “but could we stay like this a little longer?”
Edgar smiled and pressed a kiss against her hair. “As long as you like.”
-●-
In the Desert Castle – Three Years After Defeating Kefka
Edgar woke with no feeling in his arm.
Opening his eyes, his lips twitched in a fond smile. Terra was curled against his side, using his bicep as a pillow.
Right where she belonged.
Edgar lightly shook his wrist to alleviate the sensation of pins and needles in his fingers. Not that he minded overmuch. He’d gladly suffer far more discomfort if it meant waking up beside her every morning.
Gently, so as not to disturb her, he shifted her upwards so her head rested against his shoulder. She sighed and nuzzled in, slinging her arm across his chest. His smile grew as he looked at the golden ring on her finger, the lapis-studded band a companion to his own.
Stroking featherlight fingertips up and down her bare shoulder, he relaxed back into his pillows. The demands of being king would pull him from the bed soon enough, but for now he could linger.
Beside him, Terra’s breathing changed as she began to stir. Lifting her head, she blinked sleepily up at him, a faint smile curling about her mouth.
“’Morning, dearest.” Edgar grinned and brushed a tousled curl off her forehead.
Terra nestled back into the crook of his arm, wedging herself more firmly against his side, and brushed a kiss against his shoulder. Her mumbled greeting was utterly content as she drifted between dozing and waking.
The years of peace had done wonders for them both. While not fully free of nightmares, they slept soundly more nights than not and no longer startled awake at the slightest sound. Terra especially reveled in being able to wake as slowly as her body needed after so many years of chasing survival.
Edgar chuckled as she tangled her legs in his under the blankets and tightened her hold on his waist in a silent request for him to stay. He could feel her smile against his collarbone even as her breathing slowed back to sleep. He rested his cheek on top of her head and closed his eyes.
His wife wanted to cuddle and he lived to indulge her. The throne could wait a little longer.
He turned more fully on his side. Curling around her, he savored the peace of a lazy morning.
They’d earned it.