A/N: Just so we all know, this is NOT going to be the exact same thing as the original. Some things will be similar, but a lot of things will be different. If anybody has any questions, give me a holler and I'll try to clear things out, unless you're asking me what happens next. Then I'll probably ignore you, haha.

I don't own much, save for Sora and her band of misfits. Steal what I make claim on and meet a boot to the face. D:

CHAPTER ONE: FATAL LULLABY

No Lyrics Available

~ Fatal Lullaby ~ Adrian Von Ziegler ~

Sora wanted to rip her hair out of her scalp; it was so frustrating! Not only was she the lone Romani Gypsy to have fair skin, but she was also the only one with such a wild mess of curling, waving, and knotting red-brown hair! She stuck out like a sore thumb, and things were always getting caught in her stupid locks! Like now! She could just see it now; her hair wrapping around the flower like a snake does prey. And in front of such a large crowd of people – was that the Queen? How embarrassing! Oh she just wanted to melt.

"I think I'm due for a haircut..." She muttered quietly, maneuvering herself to the wagons containing the clan's luggage while trying to pluck the flower free, "I didn't see who tossed me – Ow!"

Abandoning her efforts, the dancer drew her hand to her chest, clutching her now bleeding finger, turning slightly on her heel. It stung slightly, as blood flowed from her fingertip, but her slightly annoyed expression disappeared as she watched it, her eyes becoming hazy, her mind coming up blank. She tilted her head upwards slightly, moving slowly as though she was in a trance, and she found herself staring into a pair of distant, cerulean orbs. They twinkled mischievously, as if beckoning her to come closer, to come play. She wanted to obey, stepping forward, her hand lifting as if she could touch the orbs.

But her wrist was grasped, snapping her back to her senses.

"Planning to go off adventuring again?" An elderly voice questioned, making her smile, turning to face the woman with graying hair and twinkling brown eyes, "Why! You have a flower stuck in your hair!"

"Yes, Grandmama, I know." She bent over so the woman could reach it enough to untangle it, "I wish I could be like the others. Their hair is perfect."

"Do you not enjoy being a unique Gypsy? It makes you beautiful to be your own person, child." Her grandmother stated wisely, placing the rose in Sora's hands, "It is obvious somebody admires your beauty to present you with such a token."

She brought the flower to her nose, breathing in the aromatic scent, her eyes once again lifted to the set of orbs, oddly shocked that they belonged to a man. His clothes, if you could call it that, were odd. He wore a white, jacket-like item that seemed to have black pauldrons on them, and elegant sleeves, and instead of pants, he wore a black codpiece, around his hips a cape-like cloth resembling his golden lined jacket held in place by black belts connecting to the codpiece, and his boots were made up of several black components, reaching his mid-thigh. She stared in awe at his beauty and grace, watching him stand from his perch on the side of the building, beckoning for her to follow as he backed away from the edge.

"Grandmama, I think I may explore the city." She tore her eyes away, making her best pleading face, "Alexandria has changed so much since our last visit. I want to see the new sights."

"This is sudden." Her Elder commented, "But I see no reason to say no, so long as you return by sundown."

She beamed, her grin wide and infectious as she hugged her grandmother tightly, "I will!"

"Don't forget your travel pack, and be careful. If you get lost -"

"'Find a Moogle. They are always willing to help. And if I'm lost near the time to come home, I should send a letter with the name of the inn I find to stay the night in.'" She recited, walking to the horse-drawn wagon and dove her arm inside, searching for her belongings, "I know. I've done this before."

"I'm only worried for you."

She pulled out a leather pouch, peeking inside before tying it to her waist, "I'll be fine. I'm almost an adult now. I can't be sheltered forever, you know."

Sora waved her goodbye, walking away at a normal pace, fiddling with the rose between her fingers, careful to not prick her fingers again, fighting the urge to look up at the building again. She had to at least make an effort to do as she told her grandmother so that she would not become a liar. If she walked around the marketplace, she would have told a 'mostly truth', therefore, it was no lie, right? If the man wanted her to go to him, he could wait if it was important enough.

As she walked along the nearly empty streets, she hopped over cracks, playing a makeshift game of hopscotch, lightly singing a beat that she could move to, "Do, a deer, a female deer, Re, a pocketful of sun, Me, a name, I call myself, Fa, a long, long way to go..." She pause, standing on one foot, the next part skipping through her mind as she tried to remember it, "So... A needle pulling thread! La, a note to follow So! Ti, a drink with milk and bread, and that brings. Us. Back. To. Do!"

She landed on both feet at the beginning of the shopping district, and prepared to walk inside, but felt her body jerk to a stop in mid-step, pivoting on her heels to face the other direction. Her face twisted in confusion as she tried to turn back around, but her balance faltered, wobbling as her legs were spread out awkwardly as she fought herself to go to the market. She nearly saved herself from falling by bringing her back leg forward, but the hope of standing properly was destroyed when somebody crashed into her back, sending her tumbling to the ground. Her senses tingled as she felt the people in the area stare at her predicament, making her face turn a heated red as she tried to gather herself, only to find that somebody was sprawled out on her back!

What rotten luck! Her day was just full of embarrassments!

"Ooooh, wow. Ow. That kinda hurt." She heard the person on her back groan, as they got off her, "You alright?"

She sat up, shaking her head, removing the curtain of hair from her face, and nearly squealed when she saw a pair of vivid blue eyes framed by uneven golden locks in front of her face, "Y-yes! I'm f-fine."

The blonde boy stood up straight, offering a glove clad hand to her, but she didn't accept it immediately, choosing to examine him first. He was rather short, appearing to be near her age (or so she guessed), wearing a sleeveless white shirt underneath a teal vest, with leather belts serving as accents, and a thin teal bow at his neck. His breeches were an ankle length, blue jodhpurs, or rather, riding trousers, held up by a belt with two daggers hanging from it, and tucked into cuffed, low heel boots. What caught her attention was the golden-furred tail swinging lazily behind him, a first she had seen in her many travels.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He questioned again, bringing her attention back to his face, as her cheeks burned red once more.

She accepted his hand, surprised at the amount of strength he had as he pulled her to her feet, quickly pulling her hand away, uncomfortable being touched by the opposite gender, "I, er, yes. I am fine." Her entire face turned the same bright red as her outfit, as she waved her hands around, trying to clear her sentence to an understandable level, "I-I lost my balance."

He gave her an amused look, "I wasn't paying any attention to where I was going, but I'm pretty glad I ran into you."

"Uhh, I-I'm sorry?" She wanted to dig herself a hole and die. Did he want to embarrass her in front of so many people? Was this some game?

"It's not often I get to see such a cute girl! Can I tempt you with some lunch as an apology?" He winked at her, and she covered her face with her hands, wondering how many shades of red she was turning, and only dared to look at him through her fingers.

"O-o-oh I don't know." She moaned. Why did she have to stutter when she was nervous, anxious or excited? "I-I don't know y-you, and you don't know m-me..."

"The name's Zidane Tribal." He proclaimed, "And your name?"

"Sora... Sora Le Romania-Dragonheart..." She whispered, lowering her hands when she felt like she was nearing a normal skin tone.

He took one of her hands, his lips grazing her knuckles as he gazed at her coyly, "Pretty name, for a pretty lady."

Sora found herself ripping her hand free, holding it close to her chest in shock, her breaths becoming heavy, panicked pants, and tears forming in her eyes. She didn't understand her sudden fear. This always happened. This always happened! She couldn't bear it! She wanted to get away! It was as if his touch burned her skin, and she wanted to escape the pain; it was terrifying! Her mind screamed run, and her feet began to obey, but she paused, seeing her rose on the ground, and snatched it up before tearing past him, squeaking out a soft 'sorry' as she did.

"Wait! Where are you going?" She heard Zidane call out from behind her, but she pushed onwards, throwing herself into an alleyway, even though she heard him pursuing.

She jumped onto a pile of wooden crates, using them to propel herself to an ancient pipe connected to the side of a building, freezing when it shook perilously, continuing only when it stopped. She felt horrible, but she didn't like to be touched by men! It was frightful, not knowing what their intentions were. She had seen what they could do to trusting women; she had seen her fellow clanswomen return to camp in hysterics, their clothes tattered and their skin broken. She knew women who left for a stroll, only to be found days later, dead and violated. She feared that it could happen to herself someday, if she allowed herself to trust those that could make the horrors a reality.

A small childhood fear had bloomed into a phobia the older she got.

Grunting, she hauled herself onto the rooftop, panting as she peered over the edge, cringing when she saw Zidane down below, and he called up to her, "What's your problem, woman?!"

"I-I'm sorry!" She truly was. He seemed nice, but couldn't ignore her potent fears, "I-I can't, I just can't..."

Heaving herself up, she ran along the buildings, going wherever her feet carried her. The wind was refreshing against her flushed skin, and she lifted her chin so that it would hit her face better, taking comfort from the cool delight it brought her. The Romani Gypsies were children of nature, worshiping the Goddess of Harmony and reveled in the voices the world. It hurt her to know that there were such evil intentions in the world. If she could, she would take all the evil, and destroy it with her dancing, but that was impossible. She could only sing sing and dance to ease the troubles of others.

But she could not ease her own.

She fell, rolling into the fall, and just allowed herself to lay there, "I'm a stupid coward..."

"On the contrary, my dove, I thought that was very intelligent of you." She screamed, startled, curling into herself protecting her head with her arms, "Oh come now, that is plain rude of you."

She remained in her defensive position, but allowed herself to peer over her bicep, "I-I'm sorry..."

"I suppose it can be forgiven this once. It seems you're still full of adrenaline from your run, after all." The voice was so velvety and lulling, calming her tense body, easing her out of her defensive curl, "There there. That's a dear."

She looked up at the one who was speaking, gasping quietly when she saw that it was the silver haired man! "It's you! Did you throw me this rose?"

He held his hand to his mouth, as if to hide the chuckle she could hear, then he brushed some of his hair from his eyes, "Yes."

Scrambling to her feet, she held the out to him, averting her eyes to avoid staring, "I cannot accept this."

Arching a thin brow, the man placed a hand on his hip, "Why not?"

"A-a rose is a s-symbol of perfection to my people. I-I cannot accept this."

"I see no reason why. Your dance was superb."

She was tempted to grab his hand and force him to take it back, but she couldn't bring herself to do so, "You i-insult me. You carry much grace, yet y-you present me with this?"

He sighed heavily, reaching out to pluck the rose from her awaiting hand, but as if on purpose, his index finger glided against her palm as he pinched the stem between his fingers. Her heart jumped to her throat, and once more, she yanked her hand back, holding it to her chest. This time her middle and index fingers were bleeding rather heavily, and she could see that a thorn had broken off in her index finger; she hadn't let go of the rose when she jerked away. She gasped in pain, turning away from the man as she tried to stop the bleeding, trying to swallow her rising fear. Surely he touched her by accident?

"You should be more careful." He commented, moving to her side, and reached for her hand, "Let me see."

Sora stepped away from him, her voice becoming a harsh whisper, "Please don't touch me."

She missed the dark flash in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up when she looked at him pitifully, "Afraid to be touched?" He pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve, offering it to her, and turned his head away, "Take this. I won't look, so I can't touch you knowingly. Use it to bandage yourself."

Eying him suspiciously, she cautiously reached out, quickly snatching it away, pressing it to her fingers, "Thank you..."

"I wish to discuss something with you." She nodded as she pulled the thorn free from her finger, applying pressure again, "I'm quite fond of the theater, and I was simply amazed by your performance. You have quite the voice."

Watching him from the corner of her eye, she watched him walk to the edge of the building, peering over the edge nonchalantly, "T-thank you. You flatter me..."

He turned back to her, clapping his hands together, "Oh but it is truth! And I should very much like to hear your voice more! So I must ask that you come with me."

Her eyes narrowed, and she automatically went to step back, stunned when she realized her body would not move to her command once again, "I-I don't u-understand!"

"You'll be taken care of quite well, my sweet Canary. You'll be fed well," He circled her, running a finger up her spine, making her become stiff, her breath become short, "You're much too bony. You'll wear only the finest silks," He tugged on the back of the cloth around her breasts, making her shudder fearfully and tears formed in her eyes, "This coarse drab is too poor for your delicate skin."

Sora tried to form words, but she couldn't bring herself to speak proper English, only being able to speak brokenly, and mostly in her native tongue. She tried to tell him to back away from her, to quit touching her, but all she received was a curious arch of the brow. Her arms lifted slightly, and after a few moments of fighting, she managed to force her hands to cover her face as though that would block out the man and his touches. She couldn't stand it. He needed to stop touching her, or she would explode from her terror. It was too much. It was too much.

It was too much.

As if somebody had slapped her, she burst away from the spot she seemed frozen to, knocking the man aside as she darted to the opposite side of the rooftop, panting, and wiping at her arms, as if that could remove the burning aftereffect of the fingertips gliding over her arms. She let out a distressed scream, her voice cracking with her tears as her wobbling legs gave out beneath her. She hated this. She despised this. Who did he think he was? He talked to her as if he had found a stray dog! She was not a miserable cur that could be picked up by anyone wanting to own her! She was a Human! He couldn't say such things and expect her to comply!

"Enough of that, you'll draw attention."

He was close again! She needed to get away! She had to get away!

Squealing, she tried to run, but his hand clamped down on her wrist, jerking her backwards, into his chest, where he encircled his arm around her, while his free hand covered her face, glowing a luminescent green blinding her, and silencing her struggles. She was still aware, able to see him, and feel him, and hear him. Her heart pounded in her throat. What was going to happen to her? What was he going to do to her? She would rather die than be violated and disgraced! She would kill herself before she allowed such horrors to happen!

Drawing forth as much strength as she could, she spat in his face, changing the once wide smirk into a darkened sneer, and she managed to slur out a single word before losing her consciousness.

"Pig."

Kuja's rage burned deep within, but he was not going to let it get under his skin.

He had captured his Canary, after all.

A/N: Alright, older readers will notice a major change in Sora's personality. She is actually scared shitless of being touched by the male gender. Yeah. I thought the old Sora was a bit too May-Sue, being pretty much fearless except for certain situations that would scare the crap outta anybody. Believe it or not, this is her original design, and I thought with this, I could make the story longer and better. MUCH FREAKING BETTER.

Next chapter will be more Kuja oriented, and should show some of Kuja's reasoning in suddenly wanting to kidnap random girls.

Maybe you've noticed at the beginning, there's the chapter number, then the name of the chapter, then there's lyrics (but so far none is available, haha). This is the story's playlist! I suggest listening to the songs, because they can provide atmosphere, but whatever, don't if you don't want to.

Tell me what you think!