Disclaimer: I do not own Kuja, Zidane or any locations/characters from Final Fantasy IX. Those are the property of SquareEnix.
Requiem for a Stone Angel from an Angel Made of Stone
Mercurial Asaka Wilde II (4/28/07)
Staring mindlessly out of the window of his winter palace, watching the golden brown sands as they tossed and twirled in the wind, creating a mindless labyrinth at the center of which his castle stood, Kuja mulled over the recent events in his fabricated life. They had arrived, a ragtag troop of idiots and charlatans comprising of a rat-faced warrior, a small purple headed little girl, a constantly stupefied soldier, a girl who might have attracted and enticed him had her genitalia been different, a small black mage that he had created, a pasty-faced, flame haired vigilante, a creature that could be described as neither male nor female and whose only thought was of food, and a boy. A snaky, smart aleck golden haired child, young, virile and mischievous whose only imperfection was a tale that flopped about lazily when he moved. A beautiful creature, one who stirred the platinum haired villain's loins. They were so different yet so similar. While Kuja was dark, brood, and treacherous, the younger child was full of vitality and life. Kuja wished he could steal some of that life, some of that innocence and naivety. Through two lifetimes on two different worlds full of uncaring individuals, Kuja's heart had become hard as stone. Perhaps if he stole that boy's life from him it would seep into his veins and awaken his spirit.
He strolled over to a stone angel that stood watching over his hidden crystal staircase. His fingers trailed reverently and lightly over the cold, hard marble. He adored this angel. So like him in so many ways. Both were beautiful, angelic looking beings with hearts of stone. He often dreamt of giving life to this creature, just as life was artificially given to him while his body lay in a manufactured test tube. What a pair they would make: two eternally beautiful creatures stuck in an eternity of coldness. They would waltz throughout these halls, lovers made of stone. Thinking of lovers, his thought strayed back to his not-so similar twin. How he wanted him. A want that occasionally caused his dead stone like heart to quiver with something that resembled life. It would be easy to take him. He was completely at his mercy. All it would take would be a call to his cell. He would amiable to anything he suggested, if it guaranteed the life of his precious yellow canary-girl. They would merge together beautifully: gold and silver, like and dark, love and hate. Their bodies would move as one, creating a fusion of comic proportions underneath the red velvet curtains of Kuja's large, canopied bed.
Kuja leaned heavily against the angel, eyes closed, reveling in his vision. He could see his hands caressing the dull gold hair, moving slowly to the other's neck just as he was lost in pleasure, it would tighten, cutting off the air supply, snuffing out an angel's life just as he was awashed in pleasure. What a tragically beautiful ending to a tragically beautiful boy! Kuja collapsed in delight, his hands clutching at the stone robes of his angel.
He collected himself. He would soon be master of this small, inconsequential planet, a veritable god! This behavior was most improper. He had the boy at his mercy …all he need to do was to take him. Kuja rose from the ground gracefully, his thin girlish legs and body adopting a pose of strength and divine confidence. Kissing his hand and placing it on the cheek of his angelic stone beloved, he whispered "Adieu mon vieux amour. You were always too little for me. Stone does not need stone it needs flesh to warm it back to life'
With this last goodbye, he summoned firaga to forever destroy his only previous beloved. With a small expression of regret he watched as his stone love became a pile of rubble. He smirked. He had no need for masturbation under a stone angel when a very live young man awaited in a cell below the ground with very few options but to submit to him if he wanted to live. And he would submit. Whether he would survive said submission was still to be seen as visions of snuffing out that life in pleasure wafted through Kuja's head. But for now, he was content to take his pleasure and leave the future for another day. With one last sad look at an angelic face laying on a pile of smoldering rubble, Kuja turned on his heel like a grand operatic and theatrical villain and strode down the hall, silver skirt floating out behind him to claim forever the blonde haired monkey boy that would temporarily breathe life into his cold dead soul.
