Warning: angst, implied smut
A/N: I was just playing with a theory of mine that owes a lot to discussions with j-cae at LJ and a fic by DarkSeraphim1.
"Jenova!" she screamed with rage, but her only answer was laughter filled with cold, malicious glee. Her blue eyes widened with horror, her thoughts desperately reached out for her Knight, for her Son only to be blocked out by the heat of searing passion, burning waves of lust.
She was too late…
"That's right, Minerva," the Calamity purred, her wicked laughter falling into the void.
Her Knight… her Fighter…
Angeal was supposed to be her Knight, his soul pure and unscatchable like diamonds, his honor and pride meant to be his armor against the world, his love for Nature, for the Living was his devotion to Her and his loyalty the seal on his Fate.
But then it all went wrong, just because of one man, the pride of a useless speck of dust on the surface of the Planet. Free will, her thousand-time cursed Gift to mankind. Hollander was not supposed to do what he did, not after she sacrificed one of her own children, one of the last remaining Cetra to further the research.
It was Angeal who was supposed to get those cells, the cells of her precious daughter, so that he could see before and beyond his time, so that he could wield the magic of the Planet, so that he could hear her Voice and do her bidding.
Instead, it was another unborn, another boy, and like it wasn't enough, in the last moments Hollander added the cells of the Calamity, and the Planet echoed the mothers' soundless scream. Her Chosen and her Son, both defiled, tainted by the poison before birth.
And now, this…
She guided him to the mako caverns, warding off lurking monsters that crossed the path of her Son, her Weapon, showing him the crystals, telling him ancient tales and ancient rhymes, whispering about glory and sacrifice. When he faltered on the path that she had set for him, she gave him dreams of grandeur, she whispered in his ear the means to defeat his enemies, she shielded him on the battlefield, gave his sword strength, his strikes speed…
This was her reward?
"See him? Your precious one in the embrace of my Son, my beautiful Son?" Jenova laughed, a tingling, malicious laugh, because here it did not matter that her throat had been severed by wires and voice trapped in the formaldehyde that preserved her mortal body.
She felt the wind of her rage tearing at her blonde hair in a vicious whirlwind, eyes shining brighter than the stars as she watched him fall back with a final flare of rapture, limbs tangled with another's, hands tangled in the veil of silver hair that made her burn with hatred, that covered them in its silken veil but could not conceal any of the blasphemous sin.
Her Son had betrayed her.
"Mine," the Calamity seethed malevolently. "Into my arms he is drawn, into the poisonous web I have ready and waiting, and one by one, they will be mine..."
"NO!" the Goddess cried, her rage banishing the Calamity from her presence.
She couldn't let this happen. Who knows how long this sacrilege has gone on while her eyes were turned, but this would end here. The Child of the Calamity will pay dearly for tainting her Champion, so dearly death will seem a mercy by the time they were through. She will strike him down the way it hurt the most, with the very hands that were still lost in silver hair.
And her Son, her beautiful, treacherous Son will cry to heaven on his knees before he would be forgiven.
She will see to it all.
