Title: Word of the Day v. FFIV
Author: Garnet Eyes
Archived: fanfiction .net, livejournal .com
Last Updated: 06 May 2011
Summary: 21 June 2000 edition.
Rating: T
Characters/Pairings: Cecil, Kain x Cecil/Kain x Cecil x Rosa
Author Notes: kitsch, noun;
1. Art characterized by pretentious bad taste.
adjective;
1. Relating to, or characterized by, kitsch.
Disclaimers: Final Fantasy IV is owned by Square-Enix and I in no way, shape, or form profit off of my writing. This is simply for my own pleasure, and may at any time be removed and/or modified as I see fit.
...
Cecil had never been so mortified in his entire life. Nor had he ever felt so paranoid. Then again, Kain was pretty furious as well. As was Rosa, although she at least needn't have been as embarrassed as the king and guard. Some... fiendish pervert must have taken to peering into the royal bedchamber. The explicit details in those paintings were far too exact for any level of comfort, right down to the thin scar on Cecil's collar from during the struggle for the world. And no one should have felt the urge to know that the royal couple's primary guard regularly speared the king, much less how he did it. The angle in all of those paintings told Cecil that the intruder was at the door to the bedchamber while Kain was a bit distracted, and that seemed to infuriate the dragoon more than anything else because there were guards stationed down below that should have prevented any unwanted guests. The blonde had taken a lot of the royal guards to task over this matter, which would hopefully prevent any future occurrence but the royals were going to be wary for a long time anyway.
The paladin was grateful to his wife, as well, for her cross words with the nobility who had purchased these unwholesome pieces. The scandal was made worse by the fact that the painter had been exceedingly accurate to Cecil's androgynous proportions, and now at least half of his court leered at him when they thought he wouldn't notice. And now he had no private life to speak of, for fear that another picture would somehow find its way into another noble's mansion. The perverse painter had yet to be caught, after all.