Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ When I Faltered ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

 

“What did you read? “

 

 

 

She flinched at the whisper of his voice, silver swirling about his tongue, the words soft and floating.

 

 

 

She had been sitting within a chair in a far corner of the room through the whole ordeal. The black mages work had ended hours ago. The man in the bed now had glared at her until he had fallen asleep, his oceanic eyes accusing yet blinking tiredly, his head turned directly at her. The image almost seemed like an annoyed child forced to bed. However the look in the man’s eyes could never be mistaken for mere annoyance. He had seemed ready to spit Death from his mouth.

 

 

 

After hours of rest, he was awake; his eyes closed yet his mind and voice fully functional.

 

 

 

“Well?” Although his tongue was slow and slack with sleep, impatience still managed to escape his tired tone.

 

 

 

“You were having dinner with the Queen in Alexandria. “ Try as she might, she could not garner a brave tone and her voice came faint and feather down. She felt very much like a child in waiting for punishment. In fact she felt a punishment might be soon to come. She couldn’t die now. There were so many unwoven threads hanging stray within the fabric of her life.

 

 

 

And even more so, although Hilda was no coward whenever danger had ever presented itself within her life; her guilt was strongly weighing her down. Every time she closed her eyes she could imagine her legs tide to an anchor at the bottom of a dark, lightless ocean, her cries for help choked and muted by the salted water as it flooded and scratched her throat, her body floating yet unmoving within the cold, wet asylum. Yet why should she feel guilty? She had merely defended herself in what could have been a hazardous situation.

 

 

 

Something was scratching at the back of her mind, reminding her although her captor could be cruel; he had treated her with courtesy the moment they met. Although this did not justify him as a good man, Hilda was not quick to forget kindnesses no matter how and when given. Yet was this the true reason she felt so awful now? Or perhaps her nature as a non-violent individual was reprimanding her at this moment.

 

 

 

“And?“ He was still waiting.

 

 

 

“You were watching the Queen eat. It sounded like a disturbing affair. “ She almost shook her head to escape her distracting thoughts.

 

 

 

A loud sigh came from his mouth and his eyes opened. He turned and glared at her, “You really are dragging this along. What did you find out? “

 

 

 

“You have a tail, “she rapidly replied, the words forcing themselves out in quick succession, one after another before she had time to think.

 

 

 

“What else? “ He didn’t sound surprised in the least.

 

 

 

She had thought it over and over while he had slept, his naked chest rising and falling, the bandages wrapped around his ribcage straining against his body. She had never witnessed a tail and in most of the attire she had seen upon the man left no chance to hide the appendage. She was sure she had misread or perhaps a better explanation of what she had read would be given within the diary however the black mages had been quick to take the book upon their exit. Even so, her regret wouldn’t have allowed her to read further at this time anyway.

 

 

 

The lack of emotion from him when she mentioned a tail led her to believe that there was a possibly he did indeed have such a thing.

 

 

 

“I did not get any further. “

 

 

 

A crease wedged itself between his eyebrows as he studied her, looking into her eyes for proof of truth.

 

 

 

He sighed, the crease easing itself out of his features and softening as he propped himself up with an elbow and made to reach for a glass of water from the nightstand. Hilda was quick to rise, moving to the pitcher and filling a glass with the desired liquid.

 

 

 

“ Someone as conniving as you would mull over that morsel of information for ages. “ He took the water from her and drank quietly. She found another chair and made to sit by him. She looked to the floor, noticing the hem of her skirts had trace amounts of blood, a stain that would surely never come out. She thought it ironic that a dress given to her by this man would be stained with his blood. Yet to call it a gift was far fetched. Clothes were a necessity and it didn’t prove much trouble for him to find her many dresses.

 

 

 

“You have no idea what you’ve done. “ Her head snapped up and out of her own thoughts as she looked to him.

 

 

 

“What do you mean? “ She was slightly frightened by the many meanings his words could entail. Her normally fashioned gold hair was already on end with her finger’s constant worry through the tresses within the last hours although she would never display such an act in front of the very man she had worried over.

 

 

 

“This injury you gave me, “he smirked sarcastically at that, “will leave a scar. My body is marred with your stupidity. “

 

 

 

“…Excuse me?”

 

 

 

She wanted to scream. Was that all he was worried about? His body? His beauty? Damn his vanity, what did one scar mean?! She could feel her emotions fighting to display themselves on her features and she was struggling to keep her expression intact.  

 

 

 

She noticed he was looking at her, his head tilted down causing his hair to fall over one shoulder and almost hiding one eye, the glass empty within his right hand. He was clearly reading her thoughts upon her face, a quiet observation.

 

 

 

“You misunderstand Lady. For someone like me, perfection is all I have. I can be nothing less if I am to-“His soft voice stopped there, his ocean eyes were vague and no longer looking at her, but past her, into his own thoughts.

 

 

 

“If you are to what?” Anger still threatening to cloud her voice.

 

 

 

That brought him back to attention and he shook his head. “Nothing. Never mind. “

 

 

 

She jumped when something twitched beside his left leg, ruffling her skirts loudly.

 

 

 

He would have laughed had he been in a better mood. Yet he was also sore about this bit of information slyly stolen from him, although it was the least of his worries.

 

 

 

“Well isn’t this what you wanted to see? “ He asked with undisguised sarcasm, his natural coy and playful antics long gone. He was definitely not in the mood for witty banter or games.

 

 

 

 The tip of the appendage sneaked its way from under the blanket and into her view.  The light from the dim flickering candle on the nightstand played with the silver fur upon the tail. It started to move languidly from side to side. She looked to the mage but noticed he wasn’t even paying attention to it as he reached over to pour himself another glass of water.

 

 

 

“What is it like? To have a tail that is? “Surely it could come in handy with practice. She wondered if he tried, whether he could even lift his glass with it.

 

 

 

“It’s a pain in my ass. “ His voice was rough and tired as he moved to sit back down, his glass refilled. She was a bit taken aback by his frank answer. It was not in Kuja’s nature to speak so ineloquently. She thought about what he said and paused.

 

 

 

“Not like that! “ He again glared at her over the rim of his glass as he drank. “It’s located over my tailbone. “ A smirk suddenly twisted his lips and he looked down into his glass before taking another drink, “For such a fine lady, you seem very inclined to perverted thoughts. I doubt it’s an aspect your husband is aware of. “ He was enjoying the expression that was quickly transforming her face.

 

 

 

Hilda bristled at that, her eyebrows meeting one another. Her attention was averted once more by the movement of his tail and she felt she was being pulled in its direction. Her urge to touch the soft looking appendage was overwhelming and she moved her hand in its direction. Her fingers splayed, she looked to the man first and noted his look of curiosity which seemed childlike, accompanied by the fact that he was now holding his glass with two hands. She reached out and stoked gently, splaying her fingers down the tuft of fur, slightly warmed by the blanket. Instantly is latched on to her, curling around her wrist; soft but firm.

 

 

 

She glanced at Kuja in surprise and noticed he was frowning once more. He was looking to his tail and not at her. Within a few seconds, it released her in one fluid motion and hid beneath the blanket once more.

 

 

 

“You don’t like the fact you have a tail? “ It wasn’t really a question but an observation. He had been clearly uncomfortable with her petting. And she had been unintentionally slipped another slice of information. The fact that he hid it meant no one else knew about it. No one but her.

 

 

 

She thought again on this. Her and perhaps Lady Afton. And perhaps a whole trove of Ladies across Gaia. She suddenly felt cheated. She dismissed the thought before her cheeks has the chance to flare. It was obvious he was not going to answer her so she pressed for another question.

 

 

 

“If you’re not human, what are you? “

 

 

 

He leaned into a pair of pillows he had propped up and sighed, closing his eyes, the bandages on his slightly masculine chest stiff and pale as the man they embraced. For a man so slim, it was quite a surprise to find any muscle contouring the planes of his chest.

 

 

 

“I am from Terra. It’s a city within the Lost Continent. “

 

 

 

“And does everyone have a tail like you?” Her curiosity always got the better of her. A rush of excitement was rising in her chest.

 

 

 

“They do in fact. “ It was suddenly hard to read his emotions.

 

 

 

“Do you have family there? “ She unconsciously always thought of Kuja as an only child. He opened his eyes.

 

 

 

“Yes. A younger brother and sister. “ He seemed annoyed at the mention of his siblings. She wondered what such a family would look like. Would they be as beautiful as the man lying down in front of her?

 

 

 

“Do they look much like you? “

 

 

 

“Ye-no… No one looks anything like me. “The words came out so vehemently that she was startled. Hostility was hot and heavy in his eyes and although she thought it best to leave the matter alone for now, she was intensely intrigued and thought to bring up the subject another time. Thinking on it now, she was quite surprised that her curiosity in the past had not given her as much trouble as it did these days. But then again, her past experiences had never held a flicker to a flame to the situation she was in now. She found it funny how it could roll off her tongue so casually; I’ve never been kidnapped before. It seemed even more tragic knowing her capture was purely incident.

 

 

 

What would it mean to be an intended prisoner of a man such as Kuja. The result of her guards upon their initial meeting was knowledge enough of what he was capable of. She speculated that the man was much more powerful than anything she had ever seen him demonstrate, yet what exactly was the zenith of his magical abilities? And how much pull did he have with the Queen of Alexandria? Something ignited within her mind and she felt almost silly for not questioning it earlier. Although a bleeding man can leave one momentarily scatter-brained.

 

 

 

What exactly was he doing with Queen Brahn?

 

 

 

What kind of relationship did him and her Majesty share?

 

 

 

Something tasting like fear and fright was biting at her throat. She was continuously questioning Kuja’s motives, however now she was beginning to suspect him of being more than just a skilled magician, murderer, and thief. For him to be so personal with the Queen could not bode well. Who was there to worn her? Who could even presume him to be such a man? He fooled her continuously with his charming smile and polite mannerisms. Even when he was more playful and teasing in his sarcastic and mean way, his soft voice and disarming grins left her confused whether she should join in or be insulted.

 

 

 

She shook herself from her thoughts, needing to be alone, to sleep, to think, to breathe. She felt as if she were suffocating.  She stood up then, her skirts rustling with her movement. She made for the door, her hand upon the knob. “I’ll go change then. Are you hungry? “

 

 

 

He merely gave a brief nod and she left.

 

 

 

Once the door closed upon her exit, Kuja wearily stood from his bed, naked and ever pale. His chest felt stiff yet his legs were lax. Moving lazily to the standing mirror in a corner closest to the bed, he began tearing the bandages off before he even reached the looking glass, leaving a trail of gauze on the floor.

 

 

 

Standing straight, his head tilted to the side, his fingers prodded the stitches along the side of his chest. The wound was small in size, much like the woman who gave it to him, but it would still leave its mark.

 

 

 

He could almost kill her.

 

 

 

His initial rage was long gone however his irritation was persistent. First her possible discovery of all his plans and then the trick with her little knife.

 

 

 

The injury, although a blemish he would have to live with for the rest of his days, was small in scale. He could live with that. Yet her prying into his personal affairs was cause for much alarm. What if he had not discovered her when he did and she had continued on?

 

 

 

He frowned at himself in the mirror. What if she had? The solution was simple. He would kill her. Whatever he told the Lady was of no consequence to him. She was easily disposed of. He was quite surprised himself that a better search was not in order for the woman. She was the Regent’s wife no less.

 

 

 

He would be quite interested in sharing all his personal secrets to Lady Hilda just to hear her commentary. And when everything was in order, he could easily toss her over the ship or feed her to an antlion.

 

 

 

Thinking of it, although quite amusing, made him feel slightly off. He had never decided whether he would simply dispose of the woman or set her free when all was said and done. He hadn’t really invested too much thought on it. She was clever and intelligent and it had only been within this last week he had seen any strong emotion from her. What had once been a mountainous glacier was slowly chipping away into someone who could be less sturdy than she seemed. He didn’t question her strength but he was dying to know of her insecurities, if she had any, and what could possibly make her tick. The thought of poking and prodding into the interior that was Lady Hilda Fabool was interesting for lack of a better word.

 

 

 

The session upon the deck a few days ago was nothing of the sort he had been looking for. Watching her cry as she had had left him feeling ill placed and uncomfortable. He was not good at comforting nor would he want to be.

 

 

 

Kuja was not prone to great acts of forgiveness either. However, although he would never admit, the fact that Lady Lindblum was an outlet for mental solitude could not be shaken off. Killing her now would be an utter waste, he concluded. In the past she had proved to be much more fun than he originally anticipated. Ladies of the court were only interesting at best for intrigue, but the Lady of Lindblum had proved to be quite a surprise. And why not indulge in such a rare gift? He summed his forgiveness as being a gentleman.

 

 

 

However, his thoughts turned dark once more. Indeed Hilda was a formidable companion but her curiosity was getting the better of her. He’d lied about Terra, the red planet that hung within the sky like an ominous moon, feeling the need to keep information from her. And her little stunt with her knife would not be forgotten. Kuja didn’t like to feel threatened. And he was most apt at getting rid of obstacles that marred his path.

 

 

 

He would give her one more chance out of generosity. One last chance and no more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hilda’s stiff legs moved down the hall, her back erect and aching, her lips silently praying for proper posture in order to command what dignity she had left, her regret of last nights actions ebbing away. Although it was morning, the sun still had not risen and she was awfully tired.

 

 

 

A black mage moved silently down the softly lit hall within the ship, the butter-like light of the candles rubbing smooth against the wooden floors and walls, where the light did not reach was cast in ominous shadows. The stout man was mildly startled when she grasped his arm, her fingers sinking into the fabric as if there were nothing beneath it. “Your master has asked for food. Send it to his room. “There was a swift nod from the dark little man and he turned his head away and resumed his walk down the hall in the opposite direction.

 

 

 

She continued in the direction of her quarters and began thinking of what had transpired hours ago. When the plump, scarecrow like men had entered the room to heal their master she was surprised they had not retaliated by killing her. They had not even made to look in her direction much less touch her. They merely pried Kuja from her grasp and moved him to the bed; paying no mind to the frazzled woman their master was staring at with the bloodied knife in her hand.

 

 

 

Reaching her room, she tiredly opened her wardrobe and half-heartedly began searching for a new dress while shrugging off her old. The yards of fabric fell to the floor in a sad mess, crumbled and stained with his blood and her guilt. As she reached in her wardrobe, her arms felt weak and tired like soft new budding limbs of a tree that were still green and growing. Her knees were aching and her legs were stiff, her calve muscles crying out to her as she rose on tip-toe to pull a garment from the rack. She tiredly chose a pale cream cotton dress with gold and black lattice work on the hem and sleeves. Dully, she noted that this dress did not come from her own small trunks, but from the man who had stained the dress at her feet.

 

 

 

He was beginning to seep in everyone. In her ship. In her thoughts. Even in the very clothes she wore. She began the arduous task of working her way into the gown when she realised the blood upon her former attire had inked its way through her dress and chemise and upon her body.

 

 

 

She heaved a sigh.

 

 

 

She would need a bath.

 

 

 

Moving laxly across her room in her chemise and corset, leaving the new dress lying on the floor next to the old, she opened her door. She peeked her head outside while being mindful of her nakedness. Waiting for a black mage to appear, she called out to the first one that was moving down the hall. “Pardon me, but can you quickly draw me up a bath? “ The scarecrow-like man blinked and in recognition, he said her name.

 

 

 

“Lady Hilda.“

 

 

 

She tiredly tried to filter in her mind about the black mages being sentient creatures when her memories of her brief encounter with Mr. 172 came flooding back.

 

 

 

“Atlus!” She said surprisingly in her tired voice, her eyes slightly wide. Her mood lifted slightly as the little man beamed at her.

 

 

 

He was immensely animated and she had a feeling that it wasn’t from their brief encounter. Did her know about her actions from just a few hours before? And how would he feel about such a thing?

 

 

 

She opened the door and stood aside as he entered, moving toward her bronze bath basin in the room.

 

 

 

“Has something happened? “, she asked cautiously, putting her arms around herself to shield her nakedness. Although she doubted black mages were partial to the way of physical modesty, she couldn’t shake off years of mannerisms ingrained into her being. The little man bent over the basin, peering into it, almost as if he were looking for something, having to stand on tip-toe.

 

 

 

“Yes!” He said excitedly as he lifted himself back up and spayed his fingers above the tub. “Black mages!” Water began to trickle from his fingertips into the basin, starting as a slow trickle and then following is a tidal rush, the tub filled in seconds. He bent down to the floor, working his hand underneath, casting a Fira spell to heat the water.

 

 

 

“What about black mages? “ Were there not a few dozen walking among the ship?

 

 

 

“The master has found more. In the forest. “It almost seemed as if he wasn’t paying much attention to her, being preoccupied with his thoughts and her bath.

 

 

 

“Do they not normally come from the forest?” She new nothing about these little men other than being puppets to a silver mage. Was that what Kuja had found peculiar enough to explore yesterday? Was he trying to acquire more of these creatures as his servants?

 

 

 

“We are only ever created by the master. “

 

 

 

This came as a surprise. “Created? As in man-made? “ This elicited a firm nod from him as he moved away from the tub, finished with his work. He turned to her, his eyes wide and honest.

 

 

 

“That is how it has always been. We’re made. That’s why it’s strange and exciting to see black mages living alone. “

 

 

 

“You’ve seen them?”

 

 

 

“Well…no. But that is what Number 103 had said. “

 

 

 

Something suddenly fell into place, “Is that why you’re numbered?!”

 

 

 

“We are named as we are made. “

 

 

 

His answer was so simple, so matter of fact. Slowly, she was starting to feel horrified, a choking sensation threatening to strangle her throat. What did it mean to be made and not born?

 

 

 

“Lady…are you okay?”

 

 

 

“How...who made you?”

 

 

 

He blinked in confusion. “The master.” What was obvious to him had not been to her. “He makes us in batches.”

 

 

 

His explanation almost sounded as if Kuja were merely baking cookies, constructing gingerbread men. Her previous thought of naming the black mage after a pastry didn’t seem so ill-fitting anymore, yet she doubted what Kuja did was far from simple cooking.

 

 

 

“In batches?”

 

 

 

“We come in hundreds. Number 103 says the first batch is in the forest.”

 

 

 

“Why are you not all together?” He shrugged at this, having no answer to supply. He was obviously becoming uncomfortable with her growing distress, wringing his hands within his big gloves. His previous excitement was long gone.

 

 

 

“Well…your bath is ready now. “

 

 

 

He moved quietly out the room, shutting the door and leaving her to her thoughts. She still had so many more questions but she needed time to filter through the information she had now.

 

 

 

 

Regent Cid Fabool concentrated on his reflection in the mirror, working to tie his cape into a simple bow, his arms growing tired with the effort. After an arduous effort and a few more tries, he smiled at himself in the looking glass in success. Turning to his chief engineer, he asked, “How do I look?”

 

 

 

“…You look awful, sir. “ She replied helplessly, sympathy undisguised within her voice.

 

 

 

“Yes, you do indeed look awful. “ Looking to Artania in anger, Cid’s frustration grew at the bored expression plastered on the man’s face.

 

 

 

Looking to the mirror once more, he assessed that an oglop by nature was ugly. An oglop in a cape was just silly and even a little sad. Shaking his head, he hopped away from his reflection and toward a seat. Once he arrived, he mentally growled at the fact that his engineer had equipped the chair with a make-shift booster seat. He didn’t thank her.

 

 

 

It was not unknown to the city of Lindblum why Lady Fabool had left. Although her departure had caused much surprise in the way of her unusual actions, her reason was not. However, the state in which she left her husband was only known to a few. And Cid was beginning to panic.

 

 

 

At first he had been outraged. Not only had she taken his most prized and newly developed airship, but she had left him in the form of an oglop with no hint at a cure. After a few days, his anger had cooled to regret.  Yet as the weeks began to pass, his regret had swiftly turned to worry. Not only was he enslaved within this body, but his wife was missing. Not sign across the continent of his airship or his wife, according to his informants. And now as months had passed, he feared the worst.

 

 

 

Rumors were flying across Lindblum and Alexandria about the Regents reclusive state and his missing wife. Hilda was not only a state figure but also his Chief Advisor. Her council was amiss within the Lindblum city and the people as well were beginning to worry.

 

 

 

In the beginning he had cursed her name every chance he was reminded his capacities yet now he silently whispered her name in the dark, praying for her safety and her return. And it was his fault. And everyone knew it.

 

 

 

His youthful foolishness had caused Hilda to become cold and judgemental with time. Once he had a young and mischievous girl of a wife who was quick with a witty joke. Now he had a calculative and clever woman who could see through him with eyes like a dagger, cutting through cold water. Hilda was still ever beautiful but her smiles were for public sake and rarely held for him.

 

 

 

At sixteen, her eyes held something akin to wonder and absolute love, something which made Cid feel very needed. He gave a sad half-smile at the thought. He felt like he could do anything at the time. For anyone to place so much feeling for him made him feel very suited to being Regent and to being a good husband.

 

 

 

However his thoughtlessness at his flirting and his youthful fondness of the drink got the better of him. A face that once held so much respect soon turned to disappointment. He grew angry. Angry at the sadness and the broken expectations that showed so clearly in her eyes that he felt betrayed. Betrayed that she had taken something so wonderful away from him. That she no longer loved him. And so his actions were no longer mistakes but intended affairs. After every one, after every woman he soon despaired, disappointed in not finding the ardour and feelings he once saw within his wife. He even used them at times to maliciously hurt his wife in retaliation for what she took from him.

 

 

 

It wasn’t until recently that he regretted his actions. She was never at fault as he had selfishly accused. And even more so, his newly found discovery only added to his guilt. Assessing over the last years of their marriage, he understood that he had never truly lost his wife’s love. In the way she had kept to his bedside on his ill days or the manner in which she would scroll small notes upon his airship blueprints and templates to remind him of scheduled meetings or duties. Or how she would place her hand upon his head and look into his eyes with worry when he would contract a headache. No, even if her affection was absent, her love was still there. It was merely buried within years of hurt and a bruised heart.

 

 

 

And he was sorry.

 

 

 

So very sorry.

 

 

 

“Sir? Minister Artania is speaking to you."

 

 

 

He shook himself from his heavy thoughts and turned to his minister. “You were saying?”

 

 

 

Artania was looking at him intently, a serious expression etched delicately upon his aging face, “All enquires for an Alexandrian visit have been denied and the Queen not only refuses our own invitation but had demanded limited access to the Princess. I assume all our letters to Princess Garnet have also been intercepted.”

 

 

 

Cid mulled over this, his confusion over the Queens sudden desired isolation growing. Much like his worry over his wife, he was beginning to fear for his niece. After the death of the King, the distressed queen had begun to act irregularly. He wondered not only what was happening inside the palace walls but also the implications that the Queen’s actions might have on the Princess.

 

 

 

“Schedule a meeting with Baku of Tantalas. If it is necessary, than we might need to take more affective measures in the near future. “

 

 

 

“He’s going to laugh at you, sir. “

 

 

 

He was slightly aware that a twitch was occurring near his right eye. Glaring at his engineer he had an uncontrollable urge to un-gentlemanly slap her upside the head. However, as an oglop, he was horribly incapable of taking on such a feat.

 

 

 

“Thank you ever so much for pointing that out. “

 

 

 

“You’re welcome, sir. “

 

 

 

 

Looking through his desk, he intensely studied all papers and objects that he could perhaps recognize as being disturbed. He was most interested in what Hilda had possibly come across and his eyes were observant enough to pick up and trace of quick filing and hastily moved letters. He assessed she was quick to scan, not lingering on anything too long, desiring something of more importance.

 

 

 

After acknowledging all was in order, he closed the drawer and made to turn before he noticed a small slip of white at the corner of his eye. Looking down at the floor, there was a letter peaking under the bottom of the desk. Leaning down to pick it up, the man’s surprise and confusion quickly turned to wry amusement at the contents of the letter, the small crinkled left to the side testament enough that the Lady had not only viewed the contents of the letter but had most likely read the note in its entirety. It was surely something worth teasing her about.

 

 

 

He chuckled out loud to himself, his eyes roaming over the ceiling as he thought about what might have floated within her mind during her reading?

 

 

 

Had she imagined him?

 

 

 

Had she been disgusted?

 

 

 

Or perhaps intrigued?

 

 

 

He gave another small laughed and felt he needed to make it a point of his discovery to her tonight. The Lady’s reactions would surely prove most interesting. He ran his fingers upon his lips slowly, the irritation from earlier long gone.