Final Fantasy VIII, GF/Squall, compatibility (2/3)
She was slow at first, but she's getting faster, and she's spending more and more time awake. Sometimes he imagines her barefoot and curled up in some corner of his mind with her eyes narrowed in satisfaction and a haughty, expectant smile curving her lower lip.
It's a pleasant image, but it terrifies him nonetheless. He can cast without her help, but once he exhausts his supply of magic, he won't be able to draw more.
He needs her.
It makes him want to rip her out of his head.
***
Quistis corners him after his fight with Seifer. Shiva shifts again. He catches a hint of something multi-faceted and complex, a blend of irritation and amusement.
He harvests a few Cures and Scans from Bite Bugs. When he starts heading in the direction of the beach, Quistis stifles a laugh. She manages to make a snort sound dignified, but it's not like he's going to tell her so.
"Harvesting Blizzard," he says, even though she didn't ask.
She shakes her head and smiles a little.
He turns away, annoyed enough to break into a jog, and then a run. She follows at a steady pace, of course; basic training starts with a timed cross-country course between Garden and the beachfront, and he's heard SeeDs referring to a jog from Garden to Balamb Town as "brisk."
Shiva is active throughout the run. He gets the feeling she's looking out through his eyes, but he's never sure what she's doing. And he's sensed strange patience from her, as if she's waiting for him to make sense.
"You really are the perfect student," Quistis says as they crest the final hill.
The image of Shiva in his head smiles. Not the usual imperious, satisfied smile but one that's actually happy—but the image vanishes, leaving him only the slippery brainfreeze feel as she stretches.
He closes his eyes, catches a glimpse of a slim blue fist uncurling around something.
The Blizzard spells glitter, sharp as the edge of his gunblade and cold, colder, coldest, temperature still dropping as they freeze and superfreeze.
Squall hears a humming whistle-whine. It's the distinctive sound of gossamer wings beating fast and hard enough to suspend a foot-long body. He turns and casts Blizzard at it, flinging the spell with force that surprises him.
Shiva only stretches, her winter-wind chuckle cool against his cheek.
***
She was slow at first, but she was ice-cut quick in the Fire Cavern. Ifrit bellowed in pain when Squall cast his first Blizzard. His howling was so thick with outrage when Squall summoned her that he almost couldn't make any words of the roar.
After that, though, he could feel her shifting again. This time, rather than grow, she shrank. He thought about her, thought about ice, even drew a few extra Blizzards on the way back to Garden, but the draw went slowly, and she made no response after that.
She was cooperative during the exam, but when he prods her during the boring wait outside Cid's office, she shuts down. He tries again, but she replies with a sense of tiredness and then total silence.
It's not until after the ball, when he's lying on his back in his dorm room and staring at Ifrit's card, that she stirs again.
The card's warm. It's warm enough to hurt if he leaves the same finger on the edges for too long, and he learned quickly not to brush his thumb over Ifrit's face on the card.
Shiva stretches again. It's just like summoning: she's growing larger and larger while he feels like he's shrinking. But she does it quickly, then stops and reverses: she shrinks this time. She cycles between the two, ebbing and flowing, rising and falling, filling him and then retreating, until his head spins.
The Blizzard spells he still has stored have blunted edges, but they're freezing, ice cold inside his chest. He starts to shiver.
Just to take control of the situation, he forces another reverse. He starts the ebb and flow again, concentrates on keeping it in the right order.
The world's a crystal-clear burst of sensation as she fills him. He feels every thread of his shirt, of his bedspread. The heat of Ifrit's card is unbearable and he drops it in a heartbeat that lasts forever.
He hears howling winds and she's with him, stretched out on the bed beside him, eyeing Ifrit's card with disdain.
He sweeps an arm out to knock the card off his bunk.