Gods and Generals

Drip. . . Drip . . . Drip. . .

The leaking water of the broken pipe running along the ceiling was a welcome sound, as the shy sunlight peeking between the thick, black, cast-iron bars flickered across his skin. The warmth spread over him and with it a small smile unfurled on his lips.

He squinted his eyes and grimaced. The slightest movement of his face was enough to send shooting pain throughout his body. He was, admittedly, in pretty rough shape these days. The sharp metal of his shackles cut into his wrists, and his tired legs sagged underneath him, causing all of his weight to rest on his arms, which were being sliced mercilessly by the sharp steel.

It was all he could do to not moan from the pain; all he could do to not weep in agony when he felt the cool metal slip slowly into his skin. But he would never let them have the satisfaction; he would never let them know that just blinking put him in nauseating pain.

He often felt himself reeling toward giving in ... giving up, but remembered the faces of the guards and their taunts about him "not lasting a day in this place," challenging him to live. Too bad they didn't do their homework, because everyone knew that Seifer Almasy always accepted a challenge. It would've been quicker if they'd dared him to die.

At this point, he was almost wishing they had. . .

Just concentrate . . . just concentrate on the noise and you won't think about it. He lulled his mind to an otherworldly peace, as he tried to block the tenderness of his skin from his thoughts. But how much longer could he ignore death's icy breath creeping down his neck? He'd be damned if he knew, but there was always hope in trying.

Clenching his eyes closed tightly, he focused on the sound of the dripping water as it fell into a shallow puddle now forming on the floor. He ran the sound through the valleys of his memory, searching for anything to compare it to, anything to make him forget the pain he was in right now. Pulling the past from its permanent hiding place, he searched for something significant; something to make him able to feel the damn blood running through his veins and the beating of his heart weakly against his chest.

Drip. . . Drip. . . Drip. . .

He opened his eyes slowly, as the recognition of one particular memory flashed behind his jade eyes. It was one of his best. Painfully, another grim smile crept onto his face.

The salty seawater slapped against the weathered boards of the Balamb docks, causing them to shift and creak under his body with the rolling of each wave. A stark-white seagull sailed gracefully through the hazy morning sky, and settled on tall wooden post that jutted out of the water beside him.

Seifer sighed, not exactly thrilled to be awake this early on his last day of freedom. But he couldn't sleep, couldn't slow the cogs in his mind from turning and processing information he wasn't supposed to know, and wasn't supposed to be worrying about right now. He wished they'd never heard it-that he could be taken by surprise instead. With a shaky hand he pulled his trench coat around himself tighter, trying to shield himself from the cold breeze ... and the cold reality sinking in.

He was Seifer Almasy; he wasn't meant to be in a cage...

His mind tried to process to the impending reality of Estharian soldiers slinking in to capture him. His shoulders quivered slightly. He hated to admit it, but he was scared. Scared of being put away, scared of what they would do to him, and scared of leaving his friends behind. He would have to go quietly when they came after him. In truth, he wasn't strong enough to handle them now—Ultimeca had done a number on him. He was too weak after the war, even with Fuu and Rajin by his side. If he went quietly at least they wouldn't get hurt trying to save him.

He inhaled a deep, shaky breath, which was edged with the threat of tears. He brushed the emotion away as best he could, and tried to focus on something else.

Speaking of my comrades ... where is she? He frowned in annoyance that he'd been left alone to fret and worry. He ran an unsteady hand through his golden hair, and stared absentmindedly into the distance.

It had been a rough night for the Posse, after turning on their scanner and picking up a broadcast from Esthar to Galbadian forces, stating in static-clouded voices that they would "have Almasy at sunrise."

Automatically, the bulky bronze member of the trio jumped up from his seat on the carpeted floor and panicked. The stealth silver member began to plan an escape—her slender fingers gathering provisions as she played each step out in her mind.

Seifer sat stunned, watching in disbelief as his friends still tried to protect him. Even after all he'd done, Fujin was barking at Raijin to pack some clothes and food, while she gathered their weapons and calculated the number of deaths they would inevitably cause this time around. She ran her hand over the hilt of Hyperion, before unsheathing the weapon and offering the handle to Seifer. It was a symbolic gesture that had been accepted many times before, but this time ... his golden skin wouldn't touch the metal he loved so much.

"Seifer?" She questioned, her crimson eye hazing over. He shook his head and guided her hand to drop Hyperion to the floor.

Vibrant jade eyes burned into fading crimson, and in an instant, Fujin fled the room.

And since then he'd been down here on the docks waiting for her to return. Waiting to apologize like he had to Raijin, waiting to explain. He was waiting to tell her it wasn't her fault, to tell her it was for the best and that it was what had to happen, so that they could escape him and have a better life.

Of course, life without Seifer was like trying to breathe underwater for Fujin, and he knew it ... and that was why he was waiting ...

To make sure she would remember to live her life when they took him away.

Timid steps padded along the wooden boardwalk, hesitantly scuffing the coarse boards as they approached him. Had he not known her for so long, he would have thought his hunter had come early. But he could recognize her gait, the weight she put into her steps and the sound she made scraping each grain of wood. It was methodical and precise, cautious and ...

"Seifer..."

...beautiful

He turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of his eye, forgetting everything but how much he would miss her. He moved his hand from his lap, motioning for her to come sit with him. She obeyed gladly, stepping forward and lowering herself down beside him.

"Seifer, I—" she started to speak, but he caught her by the waist to pull onto his lap, cradling her gently and nuzzling his head against hers. He ran his hands through her hair, and choked back tearful gasps.

"Fujin," he fought to not sound weak, to not let the vulnerability show in his voice. "If anything happens to me, I want you to know that I—"

"No." Her voice was stern, as she clutched his shirt in one hand and pressed the other to his cheek, forcing him to look straight into her crimson orb. "I won't let anything happen to you." Her voice was calm as she leaned forward to wrap her arms around his neck, and whisper in his ear.

"Say it when this is over. I won't hear it right now, not as a goodbye, not as some damn finality. You're not ending Seifer." He broke down then, sobbing quietly as she kissed his cheek and murmured comforts against his temple, and ran her hands lovingly through his hair.

She always was better at controlling her emotions than he was.

"Fujin ... I'm scared," he whispered. "I've never been scared of anything. What's gonna happen to me?" He asked himself, more than the woman clutched in his embrace.

"Nothing Seifer, you'll be alright. You're invincible ..." She pulled away, and moved her face close to his so that their foreheads were touching. Her hand continued stroking his hair, and she touched her nose to his, positioning her lips to hover over his own. He closed his eyes, not wanting to open them up again, for fear she would be gone when he did.

"I'll get you back. I promise."

And then she slanted her mouth against his, and he enveloped his arms around her, drawing her as close as he possibly could. Her warm lips and the feeling of her pressed against him—the curves and angles of their bodies completing each other—made him realize how much he didn't want to leave.

How much he wanted to live.

When the soldiers came, Seifer kissed Fujin one last time before helping her to sit on her own. He stood tall and proud before them and showed no emotion as they pulled him away from her, and she shouted curses that he couldn't hear. He stared intently at Fujin and raised his chin in defiance as they handcuffed him and read him his rights. She stared back, her expression blank but her eyes filled with grief.

And as they dragged him away, Seifer swore he saw a tear flow down her cheek.

She really did still love him after all that he'd done ...

Keeping his eyes closed, Seifer relished the memory of his last day of freedom, the day he realized he still had something to live for, something that meant more than his own pride ... and his own life.

Down the corridor, the muffled cry of another prisoner made Seifer wince. It would be his turn soon, his daily beating from the warden of the D- District Prison. He would usually silence his mind and wait anxiously for his torturer to arrive. But today, Seifer's thoughts were lit up as he held on to the thought of a promise made.

He had no doubt that Fujin would come for him. After all, she was a warrior. A solider who never left a man behind ... and he was her general, the most important man on the battlefield. He just hoped it wouldn't be too late.

"ALMASY!" Seifer's train of thought was broken with a yell and a hard kick to the stomach. He choked back a gasp of pain and coughed-his whole body throbbed in pain.

"Well, well, you are awake!" The warden exclaimed, lifting Seifer's sagging head with his chunky, manicured hands. "And aren't you lookin' pretty today." He snickered, examining the black eye and split lip that decorated Seifer's face.

"Oh Augustus," he panted the warden's name, trying to catch his wind from the blow. "Just because my beaten ass looks better than you is no reason to get violent." Seifer forced a chuckle, knowing he'd get repaid for that comment.

"Oh, are we a smartass today Almasy?" The warden kicked Seifer in the stomach again and then pulled a black club from his frayed belt, swining it with powerful force across Seifer's face.

"Shit. . ." He whispered, breathless from the onslaught, as a trail of cimson blood dripped from his nose onto floor beneath him.

"Now what was it you were you saying about me?" The old man sneered grabbing Seifer's face roughly and squeezing it in his hand.

"Well you hit me so hard I don't remember." Seifer mumbled, as he spit a mouthful of blood onto the warden's shoe, causing him to rasie his club again.

Seifer's mind went blank as he let his head fall to watch the puddle of blood forming on the floor ripple with each new drop. The crimson reminded him of Fujin's eye ... and it was all his mind could make room for. It was the only thing that was going to pull him through this. He didn't notice when the club came swooping down on him again, and he didn't even feel it connect with his skull.

Rendered unconscious, Seifer's body fell limp.