Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ When I Faltered ❯ Chapter 8 ( Chapter 8 )

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

 

Disclaimer: Don’t own it.

 

 

 

A/N: Big thanks to Lucrecia LeVrai once again for her beta-ing efforts and her attention to detail to correct my many mistakes. I also want to thank/curse Lucrecia for informing me of Enzai: Falsely Accused. I should be getting it in the mail the next few days. And I assume that if you’re reading this fic, you already read Unreachable and if you don’t, you’re insane.

 

 

 

Thanks to Stephy as well for keeping us with this story for so long, it touched me to know you still read it.

 

 

 

And thanks to my readers and reviewers for putting it with my sad self.

 

 

 

When I Faltered: Chapter Eight

 

Sable-Fahndu

 

 

 

 

 

The laughter emitting from the floor was loud and boisterous. His left eye was doing that thing again. He could feel it twitching erratically, his teeth beginning to grind against each other of their own volition. He began tapping his small digits on his chair, waiting for the man to be finished.

 

 

 

"I told you sir," his chief engineer said quite tragically, trace amounts of sympathy evident in her voice. Again, he felt the uncontrollable urge to harm her.

 

 

 

Cid sighed in a dramatic parody of his suffering. It was only in her nature to be blunt. It was actually one of the qualities he had favored most about her, however now it was quickly turning into an undesirable trait. Baku began coughing, the last of his laughter dying out, despite the humor still left in his eyes.

 

 

 

"So, she finally had enough, did she?" It wasn't a question. It was apparent to Cid that he would get no sympathy from him despite the good nature of the man. Baku swiped at tears still tugging at the corner of his eyes from his laughing session, his stomach cramping quickly.

 

 

 

“So, where'd she go?" Cid was silent, cringing at the question that had been plaguing him for weeks on end.

 

 

 

"Well…," Baku announced, his good mood quickly fading, his brows drawing together in concern, "You want my boys to go scouting?"

 

 

 

Cid sighed again, feeling completely useless and desperate.

 

 

 

"No, I need another favor from you, something much more urgent."

 

 

 

Baku paused at this, his stout figure tensed and enquiring, “More impor'ant than finding your wife and settin' you strait?"

 

 

 

"Don't misunderstand. Lindblum is in a perilous manner with the Regents’ current state and the Chief Advisor missing," the Prime Minister intervened, "however, our access to Alexandria and the Princess in particular have been cut off and we have information that has led us to believe that Queen Brahne has been trading with a weapons dealer, for what purpose, we do not know. You are partial to the Queens’ behavior since the death of the king, Baku. All here know of the erratic state she has been in as of late and our greatest concern is for Princess Garnet. With no communication, we can only speculate as to her well being."

 

 

 

Baku jammed his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows drawing together, "So, you want me to sneak in a letter? Work back and forth as correspondence?"

 

 

 

Artania's sharp eyes narrowed and his wise mouth quipped into a bitter grin, "No. We want you to kidnap her."

 

 

 

Baku suddenly had a choking fit, Cid quiet and thoughtful as he watched his old friend, praying silently for the man's cooperation.

 

 

 

When the stout man gained back his bearings, he looked to Cid with a concerned expression, "You want me to sneak into Alexandria and kidnap Garnet. Am I getting this right?" Cid felt like sighing again. However, he looked to his long time friend earnestly, trying to convey his need and trust as much as his limited expressions allowed. "I wouldn't ask this lightly. And I wouldn't ask this of just anyone. I fear for my wife however, I also fear for my niece. The kingdom of Alexandria takes precedence over my own dilemma. If this matter can be settled, it would be only then that I could focus better upon the wellbeing of my Chief Advisor."

 

 

 

Baku's face softened as much as his hard face allowed him to. "Feelin' really guilty about it, aren't you? She's probably fine, just needs a bit more time to blow off some steam." A heavy silence ensued, doubt following heavy in the air. Hilda was not prone to tantrums and above all, she would be the first to understand her place within the Regency and how vital her input was to the working and wellbeing of Lindblum. Her long absence could not bode well.

 

 

 

"Well, when should I start begging the good 'ol Queen to not off my head?" Before panic had the chance to take over, a flood of relief overcame Cid as he focused on Baku. There was an audible exhalation of breath from his chief engineer.

 

 

 

"As soon as possible. The longer we wait, the less chance we have of recovering the Princess and discovering what's amiss."

 

 

 

"That's fine and dandy, but what if I do the deed and come to find out, nothin's wrong, the Queen is just being a bitch hermit?"

 

 

 

A loud choking noise came from Artania and the chief engineer struggled to withhold a laugh. Cid frowned at Baku yet didn't feel the need to reprimand him for his forwardness and insult to Her Majesty. "I'm willing to take that risk. Be quick and try your best to be sly about it. I know how outlandish your troupe likes to be." He said the last bit with dripping sarcasm.

 

 

 

"Nothing wrong with my boys that a good fist can't handle," his lips twisting into a joking nature. He gave a lazy wave and headed out the door.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Hilda sank into her bath basin, the steam of the water immediately creating a fine sheen of perspiration on her brow. Wincing, she could feel the heat working its way into her skin, causing her sore muscles to cry out in pain. She knew a long soak would be in order to properly work out the kinks in her neck, shoulders, and limbs. Her mind was racing and her body was aching. A headache was rapidly forming and she was filling slightly ill from not eating. Rather than continue to ponder upon her newly discovered information, she thought it best to just shut down and rest.

 

 

 

She felt strongly that afterwards she would be better apt to analyzing these new details. Her mind was swimming and she had the haunting feeling that this was just the beginning.

 

 

 

She submerged herself completely underneath the water and held her breath as she let the heat work through her hair and head. Her temple was pulsing, causing her to lightly place her fingers along the side of her head and edge out the mental pain with a small Cure. The pain ebbed away but she gagged, making her sit up as she coughed, water having flooded her throat. Self-inflicted healing magic always invaded the senses but the taste was something she had never managed to overcome despite her naturally strong constitution. She had always likened it to chewing on a stick of chalk. When her lungs stopped burning, she sat back, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the rim of the bath basin.

 

 

 

She needed to sleep. A long journey of a nap to wipe away the nightmare. She may not have missed her husband but she did miss her home. She thought of what it would be like if she were in her quarters now, lying on her floor in front of a fire, propped up with cushions, feeling safe and relaxed as Tessa obligingly brushed her hair while she sipped at her tea. She would smell the lavender from her drink and the vanilla from her candles, warm and lax, her eyelids sinking as she began to doze off.

 

 

 

She felt chilled and woke to her teeth chattering. She grasped the sides of her tub as she lifted herself out, groggy as she realized she had fallen asleep in the tub, her water now cold. Her fingers and toes were beyond wrinkled but she didn't have the mind to care. Lazily drifting away from the bath, she shuffled to her bed, drying herself without any real effort before she slipped naked under her covers, her mannerisms long gone due to her fatigue. Turning in her soft blankets, she exhaled deeply as if sighing away the vestiges of her very life, sleep getting the better of her as everything turned black.

 

 

 

 

Cid Fabool could stake claim to many impressive feats, Kuja mused. His previous mind of the man had merely been designated to the assigned role of Regent of Lindblum which had never bode well with the mage given to his personal dealings with the Queen of Alexandria. However, the more he learned about him, the more intrigued he was. Lindblum in itself was ever Industrial, a far contrast to the prim-rose aesthetics of Alexandria. For what he thought was lack of taste and grace he realized now was modern function and progression. The more he learned of the Regent, the more he understood how well the city symbolized the man and what he represented.

 

 

 

When Kuja had first laid eyes on the Hilda Guarde, there was no doubt about its constructor. The speed was impressive and the shape and bend of the machine was gleaming elegance, boasting of a myriad of colors found within the spectrum of a desperate dusk, the dying rays a testament to its glory.

 

 

 

It was only appropriate that he should have it, Kuja mused.

 

 

 

Although Cid's ship was no comparison to the advanced technology developed in Terra, the man was well before his time. And he found it remarkable that Cid not only had the stamina to man the city but also work on his advanced ships, being the driving force behind the technology that could launch Gaia into a new era of development. Yet he was also privy to the great amount of aid the Regent received from his extraordinarily clever and sensible Chief Advisor as well as the notoriously intelligent and manipulative Prime Minister.

 

 

 

When he had first learned that the Regent had instated his wife as Chief Advisor on his council, he had thought the sentiment wasted, yet now knowing the woman personally, he understood that there were no tender feelings involved in the decision. Hilda Fabool had a mind to be reckoned with accompanied by style and elegance that made her a lady of substance and grace, as well as power. Another credit to the man. The Regent's wife was one of the very few individuals that Kuja had come across that had not only interested him but piqued his curiosity. She embraced femininity while employing her power as a formidable politician. He found it highly amusing that she had had been silently suffering for years under the negligence of her husband. This discovery brought him back to the Regent once more, wondering about what kind of man Cid Fabool was, the Regent, the Engineer, the husband of Hilda Fabool; a man who could acquire a woman of such rarity and ensnare her so that she remained along his side despite his indiscretions. It was a story he would very much like to hear.

 

 

 

Provided that she didn't have another crying session.

 

 

 

Kuja concluded that he had seen more from Hilda in a few weeks than her husband most likely had seen in the years of their marriage. It was most probable that Cid had only ever seen the dedicated advisor and dutiful wife whereas Kuja had also seen her fill the rolls of the complacent captive, the tearfully scorned woman, and most recently, the dangerous adversary.

 

 

 

She was beginning to sound like a character out of one of his plays.

 

 

 

And he so loved theatre.

 

 

 

Going back to his earlier musings, he was more than wanting to meet Cid Fabool, to asses and determine what kind of man he was, intrigued on speculation and beyond curious.

 

 

 

The only problem is that no one has been able to acquire an audience with him for weeks.

 

 

 

It was almost as if the disappearance of his wife had made him a recluse.

 

 

 

At this thought, he paused, his eyes widening slightly and his shoulders tensing.

 

 

 

The two events occurred as if simultaneously. His expressions settled. A small, halfhearted, and thoughtful smile twitched at the side of his mouth.

 

 

 

He exhaled and looked out the small window in his room, the beams of light coming through the tiny opening catching his hair and almost bouncing off the silver sheen in retaliation. He absently pulled at the feathers at his crown, musing at the rumpled state of them after his long sleep. He thought it ironic that what all of the Alexandrian Court considered a play at fashion was what Garland had claimed was a defective flaw in his original Genome schematic. He dismissed any thoughts of science, prototypes, and technology from his mind.

 

 

 

It was well afternoon and his food was still amiss. He dressed and headed out, feeling physically and mentally ravenous.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

She woke up feeling groggy and uncomfortably damp. Walking to the mirror, she began to poke beneath her eyes, worry working into her features at the dark circles beginning to form. She began to brush out her hair, the strands twisting and turning into full yet unruly curls, bouncing back into unmanageable places despite her constant strokes in an attempt to tame it. She blew out a huff of air, knowing it was useless sense she hadn't brushed right after her bath. On a stint of rarity, she left it down and moved to her wardrobe. She pulled out something simply, teaming with gold and pale pink. She sighed, beginning to feel that all her clothes looked the same.

 

 

 

Didn't I just wear this the other day?

 

 

 

Looking at the gown, she suddenly couldn't remember whether she had ever really worn the gown before to begin with. Not a stitch of lace called out to her. She shook her head, pulling the pieces over her head and situating the fabric into its proper place as she began to tie and latch the garments. She left the corset, feeling lax and light, her feet fitted into slippers rather than hard shoes. Walking out on the deck she was surprised to see Kuja eating heartily, his body facing her, yet his head turned to the side as he gazed out into the distance, chewing thoughtfully with a fork in one hand and a knife in the other. He had had a table brought out and it was littered with dishes covered in fruit, sweet meats and warm breads. She tilted her head to the side as she studied him, knowing that it was a rare moment that she could view him unaware. He looked… happy. She found it strange and unsettling as she realized she had never seen him display the emotion before.

 

 

 

Kuja teased, joked, and gossiped, but it was never done in a nice, if polite, manner. Looking at him now, he seemed almost childlike as he looked to the distance, his eyes smoothed of emotion, his mouth working in an optimistic manner as he chewed his food. She instantly felt drawn to him, wanting to ask him things, listen to his voice, touch his hair. She realized that this must be how he had managed to work his way into the Alexandrian Court and the Queens good graces, for what purpose, she didn't know. He was a manipulator that could convey so many different qualities that he could be whatever he needed to be to get what he wanted. She tried to harden herself from her natural pull to him, a frown etching across her brows. Almost as if he sensed the change in her mood, he turned to her, his expression changing from one to awareness, to an open welcome.

 

 

 

"Hello Lady!" He sounded warm and inviting. Yet she noticed the change in his eyes and knew better than to be fooled by any false sense of security that he might have tried to offer. He gestured to the other chair at his table and she walked forward, sitting down delicately. Looking to the food, her stomach turned violently, and she declined the offer of steaming hot rolls as he cordially held them out to her. Returning to his plate, a large smile plastered on his face, he looked to her as he cut through his meat, his eyes sly and amused as he looked to her lazy state of dress.

 

 

 

"How is your husband, Lady?"

 

 

 

Hilda stiffened at this, cursing herself at her mistake in reaction as he had clearly seen the gesture, a small laugh working its way through his throat.

 

 

 

"How should I know? I've been with you all along, have I not?"

 

 

 

Looking back up from his plate again, his head not completely elevated, his eyes told her that he wasn't biting. His smile was turned at one side and he gazed at her as if she were a child being caught in a lie.

 

 

 

"I've forgotten about your minor skills as a red mage. What was it? Have you made him mute? Disfigured? Dead?"

 

 

 

He laughed at that one, shaking his mane of silver hair, "That's reaching. So, what did you do, my lady, because this seems to be getting better and better by the moment, and don't disappoint," he emphasized, pointing his fork at her.

 

 

 

Her anger was boiling; however her face was devoid of emotion. She picked up a glass of water, her stomach becoming unsettled at the thought of wine, and she drank quietly, her eyes looking off and away from him.

 

 

 

"Come on," he coaxed, his voice no longer teasing but still full of optimism, "there's no point in trying to protect him. Whatever you've done, I know he is incapable of enacting his duties. No one has seen the man since your tantrum." She still said nothing, his grin becoming wider. His attention returned to his food as they sat in silence for the remainder of the meal.

 

 

 

"If you're starving yourself on purpose then I'll let you know it's an awful way to go," he sat back, one arm crossed over his lap as he brought a strawberry to his lips.

 

 

 

"You speak as if you've seen it done."

 

 

 

A wolfish grin flashed across his face.

 

 

 

She paled slightly.

 

 

 

He reached over, plucking another strawberry, dipping it into cream, and bringing it dangerously close to her lips. His smile was teasing. She took it from his hand, refusing to be baited, and began to chew delicately despite the protest from her stomach.

 

 

 

"If anything, tell me a long story. I think I’ve more than earned it."

 

 

 

He said the last part with what sounded like a pout before engulfing the whole of the berry within his mouth. She folded her hands in her lap, sighing wearily.

 

 

 

"I'm not a storyteller Kuja…"

 

 

 

"Tell me about how you met the Regent."

 

 

 

This surprised her. In such a story, she couldn't fathom how the man could garner any form of useful information from her. She assumed that it must be simply for amusement's sake.

 

 

 

"We'll reach Condie Petie at sunset. Until then, tell me how you met Cid."

 

 

 

She looked around, gauging that it was well into the afternoon, calculating that sunset would be within only a handful of hours. She leaned back into her chair, thinking back to her younger days when she had first met her husband.

 

 

 

"I was fifteen. He was twenty-five," she began, knowing no other place to start. Looking to the mage across from her, she saw him visibly relax, his shoulders leaning back into his chair, his own hands folded into his lap as well, obviously settling in for a long tale. She didn't believe she had ever seen him so comfortable before. His face was construed into a lazy smile, his eyes full of interest as he waited for her to go on.

 

 

 

"My mother had died while giving birth," she turned her palm upward and gestured to herself, "I was raised by my father and my mother's sister. My father was a professor and board member at the university. He was my benefactor in my knowledge of history and politics. My aunt was an educator at an elocution school, despite not being an active socialite.

 

 

 

I was attending the university with a advancement at my father's request. Cid had only been Regent for two years, yet his love for airship technology was already notorious. He was interested in expanding the engineering wing of the university and had invited the board members of the school to a social in order discuss the matter.

 

 

 

Naturally, my father had insisted that my aunt and I go as well. My cousin Lavinia was visiting during that time, so she had come along."

 

 

 

Hilda recalled stepping into the ball room of the establishment, her breath catching in her throat. She and her cousin had stopped mid-step, taking in the array of colors, glass, marble, and crystal. The room was washed in dark red and gold, curtains dripping like liquid over marble columns, large glass windows were thrown open to reveal deep balconies that reached out into the dark night sky, chandeliers reaching down with willow-like branches in a vain hope to touch the spectators below. At the gruff grunt of Hilda's father behind them, his sister-in-law's arm intertwined with his own. The two girls had jumped as if startled and moved ahead.

 

 

 

"I had spent the night arguing with a fellow student. We were discussing Treno laws… or lack thereof, in which his solutions were purely radical. Frustrated, I excused myself to the powder room. On my way back I had made a wrong turn and had gotten lost. In one of the isolated halls, I saw the Regent for the first time. He was sharing kisses with my cousin Lavinia."

 

 

 

Enjoying this turn of events, Kuja leaned forward on his elbows, curiosity clearly written across his face. Her lips twisted at this.

 

 

 

"I turned immediately in the opposite direction, lest they spotted me. Thoroughly embarrassed and surprised, I was relieved the find the ballroom once more. I was confused whether I should tell my father or not, but it wasn't long after that we had left. Lavinia had told me everything, every detail later that night before bed, convinced that what had been a few simple kisses would surely turn into a great love affair, never knowing that I had seen her. I thought it all silly and told her rightly so."

 

 

 

Lavinia had laughed at her then, pointing at her in her nightdress, "And what do you know of romance? Your idea of love is discussing feudal Burmecian war tactics!"

 

 

 

She had kept her own notions of romance to herself, knowing Lavinia would never understand her point of view.

 

 

 

"We were invited once more to another social hosted by the Regent. The funding was to be discussed for the new wing of the university, yet Lavinia had taken the invitation to mean Cid was exclusively interested in her."

 

 

 

Hilda raised her eyes in thought then, "I don't think he even remembered her name then."

 

 

 

Kuja couldn't help but burst out into laughter, the tragedy of the situation nothing but humorous.

 

 

 

Hilda smiled too, sharing in the joke.

 

 

 

She was sitting at a table then, her feet pinching in her new shoes. She was sipping at her drink while taking a break from dancing, enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the room, making mental photos for her to review later that night when she as alone in her room.

 

 

 

"I've been wondering what you've been thinking about all night."

 

 

 

Startled, she quickly turned her head, surprised etched over her eyes as they met the Regents.

 

 

 

"What?"

 

 

 

He sat down next to her at the empty table, a large, warm smile slanted across his face, "Every time I look over, you seem to be knee deep in some thought or another. Is something troubling you?"

 

 

 

Hilda looked to the dancing crowd, surprised that no one seemed to notice the two alone at the table. Turning back to him, she properly assessed him for the first time. He was regal in a young and aloof manner, charismatic and curious. His smile only widened as he raised one eyebrow, waiting for her to speak.

 

 

 

"Nothing is wrong. I was just thinking."

 

 

 

This was obvious and he inclined his head toward her, wanting her to go on,

 

 

 

"I have a paper due at the university tomorrow. I have been researching to suggest that culture defines language with interest in Burmecian tongue." She almost kicked herself, knowing this was not a proper subject for a social function. Yet Cid did not seem disinterested or confused.

 

 

 

"It's strange to find anyone interested in Burmecia."

 

 

 

She had always had particular interest in Burmecia, something that had caused several snickers in her direction in the university. Her professors merely dismissed it as youthful fancy.

 

 

 

"But intriguing none the less." She blinked at this, causing him to give a small chuckle. "Cid," he simply said, holding out his hand. It was evident who he was and he made no pretense that he thought she was unaware. She was amused that he held his hand out in an offering of a shake, opting to treat her like a fellow man rather than a lady. She in turn clasped her hand in his, giving a firm, hard shake, which cause his eyebrow to raise again and a loud laugh to shake his body.

 

 

 

"Hilda Garrison."

 

 

 

His eyes widened at this. She tried to take her hand back but his grip tightened, refusing to let go, "A somewhat fitting name. Why is it that I feel any conversation with you would be nothing short of a battle?"

 

 

 

She frowned as this, ripping her hand away with success. This didn't tear the smile off of his face, "I meant in wits," he said slyly.

 

 

 

Feeling this was an amicable compliment, she smiled, charmed despite herself.

 

 

 

"Not to be cliché, by why are you here sitting alone?"

 

 

 

"My feet, sir." She gestured toward the dance floor.

 

 

 

"That's too bad. I've only had you in mind all night."

 

 

 

Before she could think about what she was doing, she rolled her eyes. He laughed again, clearly amused that his cheesy slide had not worked.

 

 

 

He scooted his chair closer to her, leaning over and speaking conspiratorially as if he was letting her in on a very private secret, "How long are your skirts, lady?"

 

 

 

Before she had the chance to stand up, he wrapped his hand around her arm, keeping her in place.

 

 

 

"Do they cover your feet?"

 

 

 

"W-what?"

 

 

 

"Do they cover your feet, lady?"

 

 

 

She looked down as if she could see underneath the tablecloth, "Yes… they do. But why-"

 

 

 

"Would you mind terribly to dance with me if you took off your shoes and placed your feet on mine?"

 

 

 

Something inside her was fluttering in her stomach. Such a gesture reminded her of when she used to dance with her father when she was a child.

 

 

 

"A bit scandalous, huh?," he looked at her expectantly, his head almost touching hers. She nodded dumbly, overtaken by his charm, and very much wanting to dance with him.

 

 

 

"Leave your shoes under the table so afterwards you can return and put them back on with no one knowing."

 

 

 

She kicked them off, almost sighing audibly at the relief it gave her to be free of their restraints. Standing up, he grasped her hand and helped her from her chair, moving her toward the floor.

 

 

 

They were on the edge of the dance floor when he stopped, jutting his chin out in a gesture for her to step on his boots so no one would see her feet as they danced. Stepping up, she felt like a child once more, her feet small in comparison to his large boots. Even so, she was still a head shorter than him.

 

 

 

He chuckled, delighted in how small she was, "You looked taller sitting down!"

 

 

 

"I'm only fifteen, sir. I still have time to grow."

 

 

 

He eyes widened at the admission, something looking like a blush working up his cheeks, "I had the impression you were a little older."

 

 

 

It was her that smiled coyly this time, "I'm often told that."

 

 

 

"Then I shall call you the Little Woman," he jested lightly, eliciting a small gasp from her as he took a firm hold on her waist and drew her closer. He began slowly, working his feet in a manner that would steady her balance, although she was sure with his tight grasp she wouldn't fall.

 

 

 

When he felt her lean into him whenever he turned, he felt secure that he could pick up the pace.

 

 

 

"If you are only fifteen, then how is it possible you're already studying at the university?"

 

 

 

She noted that his eyes were a peculiar shade of cinnamon that she had never come across before, "My father is Professor Garrison. He is on the board of directors as well." Understanding flooded his eyes and he raised his eyes to the ceiling in order to remember which instructor she was referring to.

 

 

 

"Why were you not here at my last social then," he said, referring to the invitation her father had received in concern about the engineering wing.

 

 

 

"I was here." A smile was working across her face. The Regent was very apparent in his flighty attitude toward the opposite sex.

 

 

 

His brows knit together, obviously trying to place her and failing miserably.

 

 

 

"It's alright, sir, you wouldn't have noticed me. You were indulging yourself intimately with my cousin."

 

 

 

He stopped then, embarrassment washing over his features like a tide, his face taking on a tacky shade of red. The music had also stopped in which she stepped down, ready to take her leave.

 

 

 

She couldn't help it. She laughed out loud, causing a few heads to turn in their direction.

 

 

 

Silently, he escorted her back to her table, keeping a bit of distance between the two. Sitting down, she brought her feet underneath the cloth and began to put her shoes back in place.

 

 

 

"I'm not what they say I am." He said it hastily but quietly. He looked at her then with a serious expression on his face, "Not completely." She turned her head to the side, studying him quizzically, not knowing how to analyze what he said.

 

 

 

"I'm not judging you," she spoke with a smile, wanting to assure him that she didn't think ill of him, even though she found him to be a bit lecherous.

 

 

 

She raised her hand for another shake, amusement tickling the corner of her eyes. He joined in, smiling once more and grasping her hand, giving it a hard shake.

 

 

 

"Good luck with your research, Little Woman."

 

 

 

Before she could reply, her father came into view, a quizzical look given to Cid, "Hilda, are you ready to go?"

 

 

 

Standing, she gave a small nod to the Regent, intertwining her arm with her fathers. Cid nodded in turn and bid goodbye to the professor.

 

 

 

"I take it your father wasn't very fond of the Regent's reputation either?" Kuja was resting his head on one of his fisted hands.

 

 

 

"That and the fact that Lavinia refused to speak to me afterwards. It put a strain on the household and she was asked to leave."

 

 

 

"Naturally," Kuja shrugged elegantly, blinking lazily with the gesture as he spoke.

 

 

 

"I had assumed I wouldn't see him ever again. My father's interaction with him was minimal and I was only fifteen."

 

 

 

Kuja began tapping his lips with his index finger, "How did he manage to retain contact?"

 

 

 

Hilda took a sip of water, her stomach beginning to settle from its earlier illness, "It was two months before I heard from him again. I received a parcel by courier. A gift."

 

 

 

She couldn't help but smile at the memory.

 

 

 

"And how original was the dear Regent?"

 

 

 

His teasing didn't faze her in the slightest, "A Burmecian spearhead."

 

 

 

Kuja looked as if he had swallowed something sour. She laughed out loud, caught off guard by his childish antics.

 

 

 

"You're really head over heels for those disgusting rats!"

 

 

 

She laughed again, shaking her head with it, "It was more in the interest of the unknown. Before Cid, Burmecia was isolated in the ways of trading and commerce. It was once a rare site to see a Burmecian in Alexandria or Lindblum before his reign."

 

 

 

"He should never have meddled to begin with," he muttered, "Well, I won't assume he gave you a dreadful spearhead, making you rush into his arms agreeing to marry him."

 

 

 

"No, nothing that absurd. I only knew it was from him because it was delivered by royal courier. He had not even sent a note along with the parcel. My aunt had thought it strange and abnormal, thinking the Regent sent it as a joke."

 

 

 

"What did your father think?"

 

 

 

"He knew otherwise. He was… surprised. It was a thoughtful token, if anything. But it wasn't romantic. I think that's what surprised my father."

 

 

 

"Of course it was romantic! What better way to woo a lady that with a thoughtful gift that only she would appreciate?"

 

 

 

Hilda snorted at this, "Despite my curiosity, I assure you that I can never be 'wooed' with weaponry. It was an offer of friendship. I was too young and his association with my cousin, no matter how small, would not have easily gone amiss."

 

 

 

"You can't say he was only interested in friendship," Kuja prompted coyly, a mischievous smile on lips.

 

 

 

"No, it would have been silly to believe he didn't have a further goal." She shrugged, "He sent several requests for me afterwards, but my father discouraged all of them. He was wary of the Regents reputation and believed myself level-headed enough to feel the same."

 

 

 

"And yet you were not."

 

 

 

"At first I was," she smirked at this.

 

 

 

"I didn't see Cid again until my father was invited to another social along with the rest of the board members of the university. It had been almost two months sense the Regents last letter. My aunt had taken ill so my father was inclined to take me in her place."

 

 

 

"And did the charming Cid intercept again to steal your little heart?"

 

 

 

Hilda snorted unladylike before she could stop herself.

 

 

 

"No, not at all. I almost thought he had forgotten about me, to my relief. I was in attendance with the other professors and dean yet Cid never strayed a single look at me. It was all business. Afterwards, I left for home with my father. I remembered how tired he looked and had asked if I should bring him some tea."

 

 

 

"Hilda, sit down," he said wearily. She began wondering if he was coming down with something. Maybe Aunt had passed her bout of flu.

 

 

 

Complying with her father's wishes, she sat, folding her hands into her lap. Waiting anxiously, he sat downed and sighed heavily, closing his eyes.

 

 

 

"Are you alright?"

 

 

 

He waved at her, opening his eyes and giving her one of his light smiles, trying to reassure her.

 

 

 

"I'm fine. I'm concerned however," he shook his head then, unbuttoning the top half of his stiff collar of his black coat, "You know that man intercepted me in the hallway alone."

 

 

 

Her eyes widened in alarm, taking a second to register who he was meaning. He saw understanding flash across her eyes and promptly continued, feeling no need to hesitate.

 

 

 

"He demanded to know why I wouldn't send you off to the castle. Tried to assure me that his intentions were innocent. Well, I swiftly told him where I thought he could shove his intentions and that I had no more inclination to paint your face and send you working on the streets much less let alone with him."

 

 

 

Hilda had swallowed in embarrassment, knowing her father was not known for hiding his displeasure behind frivolous words.

 

 

 

"I've never seen a man so red in the face that wasn't plowed under by the drink. His anger was practically steaming from the ears. I almost laughed."

 

 

 

He did laugh then.

 

 

 

"Well, he told me that I could take my comments and choke on them. Said he would have the guard here by the morrow to come get you if he had to. And this is what confused me, girl. I asked him why you? Of all the girls in Lindblum, what was so special about my Hilda and what was it that he wanted with you anyways.

 

 

 

'I want to sit with her and ask her everything about nothing.'

 

 

 

"I didn't think it was possible but that man managed to turn an even brighter shade of red when he said that. Well, what do you think?"

 

 

 

She blinked comically, trying to take it all in, not knowing what to make of the odd situation.

 

 

 

"Well?"

 

 

 

"…Why would he say something like that?"

 

 

 

Her father shrugged, "I asked him if he was funny in the head. Then I told him you would come by tomorrow. Tea and biscuits have you. See if you can rub off some of your sensibilities on him, get him to quit tinkering with those silly ships of his and run a city." He stood then, moving to the stairs to retire for the night.

 

 

 

"W-wait! Why?" It was the only coherent thing she could get out of her mouth.

 

 

 

He smiled, his blue eyes crinkled at the side with it, "I honestly don't know why. We'll… see what happens I guess."

 

 

 

She looked to Kuja, noting the frown creased on his forehead from concentration.

 

 

 

"I left after I finished classes at the university. I didn't know what to expect. When I arrived, I was told to wait outside a states room, that the Regent was held in council. I waited for two hours. I wasn't pleased."

 

 

 

As she was leaving, the doors had opened, the many men in attendance exiting. Before she could take two steps, however, Cid grasped her arm, spotting her immediately through the crowd, his grip firm.

 

 

 

"Don't leave," he implored hastily, a certain implication of excitement and desperation in his voice, "I'm sorry."

 

 

 

She felt silly all at once, knowing that his tardiness was beyond his control yet she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been slighted. She wasn't even clear on why she was there. Even though he was quickly forgiven without her words, her expression was far from passive.

 

 

 

Her frown deepened as she pointedly stared at his grasp on her arm. He quickly released it, putting his hands to his sides.

 

 

 

"Trade with Alexandria," he rushed out, pushing the words from his mouth almost at once, "they've raised import taxes and our annual budget is in decline as is." He looked troubled and she had the uncontrollable urge to want to ease his distress.

 

 

 

She smiled suddenly, interweaving her arm through his, catching him off guard.

 

 

 

"I was told I would be treated to tea?"

 

 

 

A small smile was working at the corner of his lips, creating a confusing warmth at the recesses of her stomach, "That is true. But at this point in the day, I think hemlock is in order."

 

 

 

She laughed out loud at this, surprised at the sound emitting from her throat. Looking up at him, he was smiling down at her from his impressive height with a mixture of amusement, curiosity, and something that hinted at wonder within his oculars.

 

 

 

Hilda was feeling parched once more, gesturing to the pot of tea at Kuja's side of the rounded table. Without comment, he obliged, his sleeves narrowly missing a untouched custard covered in whipped cream. Handing the cup to her, her looked to her expectantly as she sipped delicately, sitting back once more while slipping his hands within his sleeves.

 

 

 

"I visited once every three days. My visits usually ended in arguments, in which Cid would have a letter sent the very next day, either in compromise or an apology. We discussed life at court, my studies at the university, the daily council and grievances, a new turbine within an airship, chocolate trifles, anything and everything, really. I never understood Cid's love for airships. He would explain things to me when I prompted him to but I had always assumed that he would be much better suited to being an engineer rather than Regent of Lindblum.

 

 

 

After three months of visits to the castle, Cid had invited me into a council meeting. Although I was to be a silent audience, he told me he wanted to know my thoughts and opinion on the matter after the meeting was over. I was excited to say the least. Like my father, I was majoring in History and Politics at the university, so I was thrilled with the chance to be in the same atmosphere with real council men making tactical decisions for the entire city.

 

 

 

Anyhow, they were debating over the annual budget, Cid pushing pressure on funding for the engineering wing of the university. He wanted real-time development on actual airships from the students, hoping that in exchange for free supplies, he would receive free labor and write it off as an internship. The other council members, to say the least, were not impressed. Instead of airships, they were interested in fortifying the barricades of the city walls and adding more guards on duty. I found this all exciting and was listening keenly as they all began to shout.

 

 

 

I was not pleased, however, by the tart that had waltzed into the room serving cognac to the gentlemen and lewdly gesturing to the Regent in the process."

 

 

 

She remembered how Cid had the decency to look embarrassed during her display and shady departure. She also remembered how anger swept over her in one swift motion, crashing down and flooding her vision before she could even fully understand why she should have even cared.

 

 

 

She became still, picking up her simple glass of water as the rest of the men sipped their liquor, a quiet break interceding before they would pick up where they left off.

 

 

 

"Miss. Garrison, I am to understand that you have been spending a great deal of time these past few months with our Regent."

 

 

 

"That is true," she said deadbolt, setting her water down, her eyes sleekly narrowed, thoughts swirling about her head.

 

 

 

"Why is it do you think our Cid here is so invested into his ships rather than his city?"

 

 

 

Cid slammed his fist against the long rectangular table, "How dare you doubt my priorities?"

 

 

 

Hilda smirked, picking up her glass again as a thought came over her, "I am uncertain, my lord. Maybe it's to escape all the doxies he attracts through his daily interactions?"

 

 

 

The council member smirked in turn, feeling like he might have an ally in his opinion. She would later learn that his name was Garran and that he was in every way a snake.

 

 

 

"I assure you Miss. Garrison, it isn't something we encourage. Are there any more theories behind the Regents distracting hobbies?"

 

 

 

She had a sly answer but before she could speak it, she felt herself being roughly hauled out of her chair and dragged to the door of the states room. She tripped on her skirts, causing her to cry out, yet his grip on her jerked her up from falling, the doors thrown open as she was ejected into the hall.

 

 

 

"Just WHAT do you think you're doing?!" She looked up at him then, his face warped into a mask of rage and embarrassment. If he could, he would have spit fire. She glared at him up at, matching emotion for emotion and she internally tried to deny that she was hurt by what had transpired just a few moments ago.

 

 

 

"Unhand me!"

 

 

 

Instead, he took hold of her other arm as well and viciously shook her, "I don't need your help in ruining me! Those old sods in there have had it out for me sense the very beginning. What's the matter with you, I thought you would have been on my side?! My ally!"

 

 

 

She tried to shove away from him, yet her height and strength was diminutive in comparison to his own. Childishly, she kicked his shins. He visibly winced but his hold on her never loosened. Rather than explain her hurt and jealousy, which at the same time she felt misplaced because they were merely just friends, she side skirted the real issue warring with her and supplied another excuse in its place.

 

 

 

"You talk of budget decline, refuse to tax, and continue to waste efforts on airships. No one needs more airships, Regent, they need food, better housing, safety, and proper trade value! Anyone with but a brain would tell you that! If you continue on in this manner, you'll be Lindblum's ruin!"

 

 

 

She felt like gasping as soon as she had finished, not fully comprehending the scope of what she had just said. It was a matter she had always felt the need to voice, but never felt inclined that it was her place to do so. Yet her logical side reasoned with her that she was one of his people and he should hear what his people had to say. However, she also felt like a coward, allowing this information to slip by at one of her weak moments, when she was feeling jealous over some woman rather than feeling remotely patriotic and concerned about the city in which she resided in.

 

 

 

Many emotions flickered over Cid's face within in instant. He settled on one, anger, and released one arm while turning to leave, dragging her along by the other. Her arm was screaming at her in protest, knowing it was surely bruised already.

 

 

 

"Where are you taking me?!" she thought of the council members still waiting in the states room.

 

 

 

"Quiet!" he commanded, his voice harsh yet coming out as a whisper.

 

 

 

When they met a set of stairs, he all but lifted her up in order to cover more distance faster, unceremoniously dropping her and continuing on when they reached the top. He threw open a wooden latched door, swinging her in and letting go, turning to lock the door shut.

 

 

 

She had a moment to register that she was surrounded by airship models and templates before she focused back on Cid. He walked to a table, unrolling parchment and signaling for her come closer. Timidly she did, confused and curious all the same as to why he had brought her here.

 

 

 

"This is a blueprint I've been working on. I call them aircabs."

 

 

 

The schematics meant little to her but she was interested none the less.

 

 

 

"Aircab? I've never heard of such a thing."

 

 

 

He bitterly smirked at this, "No one has except for my engineers and volunteer students. It's been in development sense I've been Regent. We reckon another year, we can get them up and running."

 

 

 

He turned to her then, one hand on his hip, "Do you know what this would mean Hilda?"

 

 

 

"But… how are you going to get funding for another year? And to what purpose?"

 

 

 

He waved her concern away with his hand, leaning against the drawing table, "All my airship ventures are not funded by the treasury but by my own endeavors. I've been using my own allowances and although my accounts are nearly finished, I believe it will be well worth it in the end. Think of it Hilda. Aircabs will replace carriages throughout the city. I'll be replacing the traveling trade with something not only more efficient but an industry that will provide more jobs. People will be needed to run these things, man the controls, and work on the mechanics what have you. Civilians will not only reach their destination quicker and in comfort, but also have the security of safety from the streets. Time for travel will be eliminated, making more room for efficient industry. Let me explain an example.

 

 

 

"When someone has taken ill, they have to travel across the whole of the city and whether this is by carriage of foot depends on the money readily in their pocket. Let's be generous and say they have traveled by carriage. This can take up to anywhere between an hour to two. Upon arrival, they are made to wait to see the doctor in favor of those who have arrived before them. And those arriving afterwards will have to wait even further. However, say if these patients all arrive by aircab. The doctor is overloaded. He may have an apprentice but a daily inflow of patients of such magnitude will be too much. There will be need of more doctors, as we both know most people are discouraged from making the effort to visit simply because of the lack of attention they will receive due to the amount of people waiting for treatment. And with more doctors, more treatment can be encouraged simply because it's more readily available and with more speed. That is just one example of the many. And if everyone is using them, they would cost less than the prices demanded carriage passage. It would be revolutionary!

 

 

 

"I've wanted to be Regent as long as I can remember, Hilda. I love this city, I love its people. We have so much potential to become more than what we are but with the council fighting me tooth and nail along the way, it's becoming impossible for us to work on the beginning stages of developing this city into a truly functional state. Those fools are pressing on about wall structures to keep outsiders out while impressing the matter of aesthetics in comparison to Alexandria, complaining that the city looks too droll. Lindblum is not meant to be an isolated flower but an industrially advanced structure comprised of progressive commerce and inventions. I have ideas, girl, ideas that could launch us as a formidable power across this continent."

 

 

 

She was stunned and proud.

 

 

 

"I had no idea… Cid… Cid, that's brilliant!"

 

 

 

He coughed at this, not feeling up to flowering under the attention but appreciating the comment all the same, "You're one of the few people who seem to think so."

 

 

 

She was already imagining it, the cogs in her mind turning over.

 

 

 

"I know why you were angry. But you cannot allow your emotions to get the better of you in front of those rats. They will use it against you at every opportunity."

 

 

 

She sighed, feeling her jealousy overcome her once more yet knowing he was right.

 

 

 

"I was a fool. And it was ended long before I ever met you."

 

 

 

"Obviously not for her."

 

 

 

"She never acted accordingly before. I suspect it was only because you were there." A small smile turned at his lips.

 

 

 

"Why should that matter?"

 

 

 

"Because I'm head over heals for you, idiot! Anyone with eyes can see it!"

 

 

 

She felt her face reddened, trying to not take in the information in the manner in which she was.

 

 

 

He wants me.

 

 

 

She had told herself often that she would have been a fool to ever fall for him and despite her efforts, she found herself more entrapped by the day.

 

 

 

"Why do you think I brought you here today? Do you think I just bring any girl into my political meetings? Let them sit prim and pretty for me while I yell my head off? I want to know what you think! I always want to know what you're thinking. I want your input, to see your calculating mind work as you weigh and balance all options in your hands. You're the most beautiful woman I have ever met. It boggles me how you can sit upright and elegant eating cakes while all by destroying my men on a chessboard all the while cleverly instructing me on how to properly conduct a raid. Do you understand how frustrating it is to know how young you are, to know that I can't have you, but to also fear what you're thinking, to want to be a better man that I actually am in order to offer you something equivalent of you in order for you to except me? To offer myself and more in my hand and hope you don't laugh in my face."

 

 

 

Her heart was beating so fast she couldn't breathe, "What are you saying?" she asked quietly, wanting just a little more.

 

 

 

"I want to marry you."

 

 

 

Before she could think it, it slipped through her lips, "But I'm still not of age."

 

 

 

He knocked over an empty ink bottle in frustration, allowing the glass to roll across the floor, "I know that. Believe me, I know that." He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

 

 

 

"Then ask me again when I'm sixteen."

 

 

 

He turned quickly, the blood seeping from his face, "What?"

 

 

 

"Ask me again when I'm sixteen and I will say yes."

 

 

 

His large arms engulfed her and lifted her off the floor, gathering her close to him, his face in her hair.

 

 

 

"But don't think that allows you any amount of liberties in the mean time," she teased, her voice slightly muffled as it was pressed against his chest. He pulled her away to look into her eyes, his mouth grinning.

 

 

 

"Hilda?"

 

 

 

"Hmm?"

 

 

 

"Shut up."

 

 

 

He kissed her softly and almost innocently, but the feeling he was trying to hold back was almost tangible. It made her calm and excited all at once. She almost went completely limp in his arms, causing him to laugh. She had reached up then, her feet still dangling to give him a hard whap on the head, causing him to laugh even harder.

 

 

 

It was one of her most precious memories.

 

 

 

Unbidden, she felt the beginnings of tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, yet she blinked them away, placing the images in her mind in a box, trying to not allow emotion to overcome her.

 

 

 

Kuja looked to her thoughtfully, his head once again resting on his hand, his teasing manner gone.

 

 

 

"It almost sounds like a story book…but it’s not."

 

 

 

She said nothing, suddenly feeling bare and exposed. Mages were slowly moving about the deck, silent about their work.

 

 

 

The ship began to slow in its speed and she suddenly felt her stomach begin to drop as she recognized that the ship was slowly declining in altitude.

 

 

 

"Oh. We're here," Kuja said, blinking out of his thoughts as he turned around in his chair to look ahead of them. The sun was sinking into the horizon and a small town could be seen in the distance. He stood then, working around the table to offer his hand, helping her up in turn.

 

 

 

She walked to the front of the ship, peering over to look ahead. Small lights twinkled in the small village, almost in a welcoming gesture. The silvery man stood next to her, his eyes assessing the small town as well.

 

 

 

Turning to her, he placed his hands on his hips, his hair slipping over a shoulder, "I've had a dress made with you in mind. You'll find it in your wardrobe. It will be the only dress you will wear," he said silkily, binding her with his subtle spell. She understood, knowing that when she reached into the large cabinet that she would be only drawn to the dress he had procured for her.

 

 

 

"You could have merely told me what it looked like. I'm sure I could have found it without much trouble."

 

 

 

He smiled, his canines showing, "Yes, but I want you to change into it now. It will be your wedding dress."

 

 

 

She tensed in alarm. Remembering the ceremony required at this Condie Petie to gain passage past the towns confines, she attempted to calm her nerves.

 

 

 

"Surely this can wait tomorrow, can it not?"

 

 

 

He shrugged, the gesture aloof while remaining elegant, his hands placed behind his back, "I'm sure it can. However, I would like to get this over and done with. Time is a bit pressing at the moment."

 

 

 

He made a "shooing" gesture, turning away from her.

 

 

 

She walked away, her heart lodged in her throat, her palms itching.

 

 

 

She could feel another headache coming on.