A/N: Well, here we are. xD A huge thank-you goes to ReadingChick and Truth-Unspoken for being fantastic beta readers, and to all the readers, reviewers, and folks who stored Avante among their catalogues of favourite stories: thanks for providing the best motivation, support and patience there is, and I hope you've had as much fun reading this fic as I did writing it.

As for the remaining notes for the fic as a whole:

- When Avante was still in its conceptual stages, implicating a the potential of a relationship between Lightning and Fang was among the first ground rules to be set down outside of the main motivation of 'reuniting the family'. A few aspects of the earliest plot points survived into the final product, such as Bahamut and Hecatoncheir's final attack, Serah and Hope's grand theft velocycle and Hina's name.

- In her previous Final Fantasy appearances, Asura is depicted as a female summon or boss with three faces on her head. Here, her appearance was based on a merge of the scale pattern seen in Australian monitor lizards, and the depiction of the hydra in Greek mythology.

-I owe RC for encouraging the prominence of Titan and the Menhirrim.

In the meantime, I'll be taking a slight break from writing in order to focus on drawing and flesh out fic ideas that have been simmering for quite some time. This is by no means a hiatus xD I might put out a few one-shots or drabbles, but as for now, I can't foresee much coming along in the immediate future.

If anyone still wants some questions answered, are curious about what I might have in mind for a sequel to this, or just want to swing by for a chat, you can catch me masquerading around DeviantArt as QuaterComet, or quaterzaz on Livejournal.

33

In the month succeeding the defeat of Asura, the population returned to their home without incident and with much consideration towards permanently inhabiting the mountain range. The scenic landscape had captivated countless minds, and several more sought to protect the Paddran Archaeopolis from the desecration of fiends and mortals alike. However, plans to pursue colonization would be put on hold until the process of constructing proper homes, office blocks, and the site of the new Transports building was complete.

With the Subterra freed of malice, Atomos had returned to his usual haunts and cleared through the cave-ins and rubble that had accumulated in his absence. The reappearance of the Mah'habara fal'Cie had initially gathered wariness, yet following numerous eyewitness accounts of the people involved in the Transports quake, there had been an influx in production of gravity-controlling manadrives. Subsequently, mining and excavation operations resumed once workers were equipped with said technology. In the case of the latter faction, there was a degree of curiosity over what had led to the magnificent refortification of Cocoon's foundations; ultimately, life went on as usual, and the excavation affiliates took to their reinforced work without complaint.

Drained of floodwaters, the Archlyte Steppe was making a steady recovery from the wildlife compromised by the downpour, as it experienced a remarkable growing season that resulted in the widespread migration of neighbouring species. Splendid though the natural wonders in Gran Pulse were, many civilians still thought of the varied environments that had flourished in Cocoon. As thus, they would assert that, even in memory, the beauty housed in sights such as the golden sands of Bodhum or skyline of Palumpolum would never tarnish.

Beneath the evening sky, it would become common knowledge that the Vallis Media was an ideal location for hosting a celebration of matrimony. Luminescent flowers unfolded to soak in the moonlight, which glimmered over the surface of a calm creek while climbing plants and hanging moss decorated the eroded mountain walls, sheltering the ceremony from vile audience and malicious intent. Arrangements of dining tables, chairs and crystal lanterns added to the splendour of the occasion, facing the altar arranged between two palm trees and offering the utmost hospitality to the guests as the wedding reception went well underway.

Eyes alight with joy and contentment, Serah was a vision in white as she, her husband and her sister permitted one of several cameras to capture a frame of their happiness. While the colour scheme of the celebration was worn about in appealing shades of crimson and silver, the bride had called upon the aesthetic assistance of her friends - one amiable and the other fashionable - to weave Oerban lilacs into the wavy hair cascading down her back. Under Vanille's care, the flowers bloomed to the point in which they nearly overwhelmed the windowsill outside of the study. In light of this, Yuj believed his earlier gift to Serah had been put to good use, and was pleased to see that the petals did, indeed, compliment the colour of her hair.

At the lively insistence of a certain quartet and their friends, the guests began to relocate a handful of chairs and tables to the perimeter of the location, in order to accommodate the wireless software and general space required for dancing to take place. While gifted in all manner of technological applications, Bhakti chose to refrain from offering his assistance; rather, the robot sought to wheel beneath the closest chair and, with petals and an array of festive beads strewn about him, began a long, well-deserved hibernation.

As much as they enjoyed the surroundings and progression of the reception, Sazh and Bartholomew voted to linger by the dining chairs and take part in the forthcoming waltzes and modern moves as an audience. To anyone who asked, they justified their lack of participation with the somewhat exaggerated excuse of poor knees and the risk of pulling a ligament. To anyone who knew them well, the fathers wished to relax and remember this as the first of many occasions in which their young relatives were brought together in merriment.

With his arms folded over his chest, Sazh looked into the crowd at the other end of the clearing and too note of Dajh and Hina as they led one of the guests to get a better view of the revelry. "C'mon, Miss Sorangel!" the child said, his enthusiasm accompanied by a current of excited chirping, "Auntie Vanille said she's gonna go dancing!"

"Alright, alright," the ISD affiliate laughed, "Just don't drag me into any two-steps. It's been ages since I went through that mess."

"Never would've guessed it," commented her superior and former lieutenant, overhearing the exchange.

Sorangel waved away his amusement, "I'd pay to see you give it a go," she teased before following after the child.

Sending a curious glance after the two guests, Sazh turned to Bartholomew, "They hanging around for formality's sake?" he asked.

"Keeping the peace, ensuring nothing goes out of hand," Bartholomew explained, "Or so they would have you know."

"So much for no strings attached to those invitations." Sazh chuckled.

At the far end of the father's side of the crowd, Lightning smiled as the married couple took the lead of the slow, harmonious music that filled the air. Garbed in pleats of silver hemmed, deep red fabric draped down from her right shoulder and over her body, the official sister-in-law stepped back as the amiable Oerban ushered her young friend closer to the line of waiting dancers.

Hope cast a reluctant glance at the dance floor, "This Tsubaddran shuffle-"

"Contemporary Tsubaddran shuffle," Vanille corrected, giving him a cross expression while motioning to Lebreau, Gadot, Maqui and Yuj, "We've been planning this out for hours, and you're about to back out?"

"You only told me about it five minutes a-" Hope began, relenting as the amiable Oerban's glare persisted. The silver-haired teen looked over his shoulder, silently beseeching help from his mentor. With an encouraging smirk, Lightning inclined her head towards the clearing, leading Hope to swallow his doubt and relinquish a hand to his friend.

Vanille turned to Lightning, "Knew I could count on you," she smiled. Taking Hope's hand, she went while bringing them towards their waiting dance participants. "If I told you once, I told you twice," she reminded him, "As far as partners go, we're one of a kind!"

Affectionately shaking her head at their antics, Lightning remained with the crowd a while longer, observing the cheer that arose as the beat kicked up in tandem with two adolescents and Snow's side of the family leaping into the clearing. Weaving to the back of the audience, the former soldier scanned the periphery of the location until, across the creek, she caught sight of her.

Fang watched the festivities from afar, her choice of silver cloth and red embellishments shimmering under the dappled moonlight. Crossing through the cold waters, Lightning approached her comrade, leaving a respectful, silent space between them as she paused at her side. The music and laughter seemed distant as she observed the headstrong Oerban, noticing the hand that was curled around her right arm, as though to confirm yet again that she was not trapped within a dream.

Scars such as those that lurked at the back of their minds and flared in their nightmares would never allow themselves to be fully healed. From the wyvern talons marking her shoulder, or the faded weals that circled Fang's wrists, though the shackles had long since been destroyed, Lightning knew the trance of being unable to see beyond reopened wounds affected her comrade more than either of them would prefer.

Without tearing her gaze away from the celebration, Fang spoke.

"Over the years, I lost count of the things that'd slipped from my grasp," she confided softly, the lantern lights dancing across her faraway eyes, "For so long, Vanille was all I had left, all that kept me grounded." Lowering her eyes, she frowned bitterly, "Had I taken one false step, or backed down when I should've stood before her..."

"We'd still bring you home." Lightning told her, picking up where Fang had trailed off.

There would be scars and torments would be revisited, yet Lightning's tone carried her determination for there to be battles and victory, each greater than the next, until all that remained of the hated recollections was little more than a ghost of a thought.

The headstrong Oerban blinked, the shadows leaving her eyes as she took sight of the crowd once more. "I was sure we'd never find that again," she said, tossing her friend a wry grin, "One of those rare times when I've been proven wrong."

Lightning gave an amused scoff, crossing her arms as a familiar flock of silhouettes cut past the stars, idly soaring towards their nesting grounds. Their freedom was no longer something to be envied; this she was well-aware of as she maintained a casual front. "How soon before you head out?" she asked Fang.

Her comrade considered the question without hesitance. In this time, the former soldier picked away at tentative contemplation. She understood it was perfectly reasonable for Fang to move on from Niflheim, as soon and as briskly as she wished. There was plenty for her to rediscover in the world of her birth, many monuments to pay her respects to and nothing to hold her back from journeying beyond the horizon. Nevertheless, Lightning could not quell the small, bemusing sense of deprivation that pursued these truths; not a year out of stasis, and already she was biting back the concept of losing her comrade all over again.

"It'll be a while until the yearlings return to the grounds," Fang said, summoning her out of contemplation as she referred to the Svarogs that had passed by. "Gives me enough time to pull some tethers together." Taking in the stars, she added, "Those vehicles are nice enough, but when it comes to taking to the skies with one of those creatures... You just can't compare."

Before Lightning could formulate a reply to her thoughtful reflection, Fang propped a hand on her hip, "There's still the trouble of company," she sighed.

The former soldier received this with particular interest, intending to express light sarcasm in reference to a long-ago, partnered excursion, "Sorry to bore you."

Initially, she assumed the comment had come across in an affronting manner; dipping her chin, Lightning realized that her tone had been a merged culmination of the certainty and loyalty that had brought her to the threshold of the crystal chamber. With a slightly flustered sigh, Fang looked out across the creek, avoiding her eyes.

"It's quite the trip," she pointed out.

"If you're unprepared," Lightning countered.

Fang tilted her head in the direction of the married couple. "Sure you don't want to-"

"Give them room to breathe?" she interjected, daring her comrade to further test her resolve.

After a brief pause, the headstrong Oerban raised her brow and softly bumped Lightning's hip. "This better not be a way of saying I've gotten soft," she warned.

With a sly smirk, the former soldier shrugged. "Wouldn't be surprised."

Fang gave in to an unrestrained smile while she and Lightning returned to the crowd, arriving in time to join the roar of applause as the contemporary Tsubaddran shuffle came to a close; as they basked in the unity of their family and the absence of solitude, the wind brushed past their shoulders.