Squall did not appear that evening.

It wasn't something all that unusual - sometimes, he simply went elsewhere, and didn't show up for the routine things like dinnertime (as the children needed to eat even if Griever didn't) or bedtime, or the hours in between that were usually referred to as 'down time' - where everyone tried to unwind enough to make sleep a possibility.

But it was the first time the Pride began to wonder what it was the Lion actually did when he went off by himself. On the grounds that he was often best able to pry answers out of their father without receiving undue backlash for the effort, Taran was designated to go and find out What Was Going On.

He didn't really want to. Squall never gave any impression that he wanted to be followed when he went off alone, and Taran had as little desire to bring down his father's wrath as any of his siblings. So the first thing he did was ask Rinoa.

She shrugged, smiled a little wistfully. "Around," she said.

Something about the way she said it made Taran give her a closer look - her eyes were darker than usual. Not Griever-amber, but rich earth brown like Gwynt's.

"You don't even know?" he asked curiously. "Why would he leave you?

Rinoa chuckled softly. "He hasn't left me - not in the way you mean, anyway. Taran, he just has to be alone sometimes, that's all. Most people do, to one extent or another. He needs me as much as I need him, but he also needs to be just himself sometimes."

"A lot of the time," grumbled Taran. "He goes away at least once a week."

Rinoa frowned. "Yes, he does. He has to remind himself of who he was, to appreciate who he is." She shrugged. "It's just something he needs to do. If it bothers you, you can look for him if you like. He's still in the Realm, because I can feel him here. But you might regret it. I leave him alone when he wants to be that way."

But Taran was fearless. "I'll find him, Rinoa," he said, with all the confidence an eleven year old can muster. "I'll make him come back."

Rinoa smiled and shook her head, and said, "If you say so, Taran. I'm going to get the others settled in with a story. Sure you don't want to join them?"

"No," said Taran firmly. "I'm gonna go find Dad."

Rinoa recognized the set of his jaw as indicative of absolute immobility; Squall tended to look that way when he'd made up his mind too. She shrugged in the face of it and wished Taran luck.

Travel in Griever's realm was a matter of will; you decided where you wanted to go, and you ended up being there. Direction and distance were more or less optional. But even if he had pulled almost completely into himself, Squall was still half of Griever. If he wanted to be alone he could skew the rules of the realm to prevent himself from being easily found - and in fact that seemed to be what he'd done.

Taran didn't give up, though. He concentrated fiercely on finding his father, and let no other thoughts intrude. Eventually, he was rewarded - not with the sight of Squall himself, but with changes around him.

The purple-silver chaos that marked Griever's realm was giving way to shaped reality; Squall was forming a scene around himself. Taran found his feet on an old dirt path winding through a fairly open forest way, and above there began to be stars. The scene was of trees on tall hills, and he began to hear music.

Taran grinned at that. Any time he heard Squall play, he was made proud to be the one responsible. But then he started listening to the music, and the softly sung words, and realized that for all its tranquility Squall didn't see the scene as happy at all.

Your words to me, just a whisper,
Your face is so unclear,
I try to pay attention,
Your words just disappear...
Cause it's always raining in my head,
Forget all the things I should have said...

No, he wasn't happy at all. The music was soft and melancholy, and Squall's voice as he sang it sounded rough with tears unshed.

Taran moved forward, intent on asking what was wrong - when Squall stopped.

Without turning around, he asked, "What do you want, Taran?"

"What's wrong, Father?" asked Taran, almost fearfully. "Why do you go away and leave Rinoa and the rest of us?"

Squall got to his feet, setting his instrument down, and scooped his son up into his arms. "Because I have to," he said simply, and deposited Taran on a tall rock - so they could talk eye-to-eye.

"You don't have to go away," said Taran. "I don't want you to, and Rinoa doesn't want you to, and none of the others want you to either."

"Don't ever assume what Rinoa feels, Taran," warned Squall. "Or try to tell me, either. I know how she feels."

"Well, we don't like it when you go away. Why can't you play with us instead of by yourself?"

"Because I do that all the time," said Squall quietly, then seemed to consider something. "All right...I suppose if you're old enough to ask, you're old enough to understand. But if you don't, don't expect me to make it all magically clear somehow."

He waved a gloved hand at the panoramic view, and the stars. "This isn't real, Taran. It's something I made up. Nothing in this realm is really real, except for you, and me, your siblings, and Rinoa." To demonstrate, he waved a hand - and it all dissolved into chaos. Taran sat on nothing visible, but didn't fall - gravity being more or less an optional rule if Griever wanted it to be.

Squall tapped his forehead. "When I became Rinoa's Knight....really her Knight...I lost the chance to ever really be alone with my thoughts. She's always here, in my head, and I'm always with her. Usually, that's fine."

He frowned. "But not always. Taran, sometimes I just want to be alone in my head. Just for an hour or two, just to remember what it was like when the only person I had to worry about was me. If I go away from Rinoa, and she pulls back...I'm almost alone then, but never quite."

Taran was wide-eyed. "Don't you want to be with us, Father?" he asked. "Don't you like us?"

Squall grimaced. "That's not the point," he snapped. "It has nothing to do with any of you, all right? If it did, I wouldn't come back - and I always come back, now don't I?"

Taran nodded, a little fearfully. Squall calmed down again.

"Look - you need down time, right? At the end of the day, you do less," he waved a hand vaguely, "bouncy things, so you can sleep. Right?"

Taran nodded again.

"Well...this is my down time. I go away so I can relax and not be anyone who matters to anyone for a while. And then I can come back and do the things you need me to do. You've got to let me go away, Taran, just as Rinoa does. I need the break."

Taran's expression shifted to one of craftiness. "If we do, you promise you'll come back?"

Squall's expression was tired and solemn as he said, "I promise, Taran. Tell the others too - if you let me go away, I promise I will always come back. Now get on with you. Rinoa wants you in bed."

Taran grinned and moved off, and soon afterward the sound of Squall's melancholy music began to follow him.

I am nothing more than a little boy inside
That cries out for attention, yet I always try to hide
Cause I talk to you like children, though I don't know how I feel,
But I know I'll do the right thing, if the right thing is revealed...
Cause it's always raining in my head,
Forget all the things I should have said...