Chapter Sixty-Two: Jenova
Jenova was displeased.
She had assumed that Aralyn would simply die of her disease and that would be that. No complications. It was even better than her original plan, which was to simply have Sephiroth exterminate her. Reluctantly, she had refrained from flat out giving that execution order. There was no sense in rendering her son incapable over such a trivial, though certainly bothersome matter.
But it was the fact that the degree to which it would wound him was so very high that irked her.
Aralyn had been a nuisance from the beginning. Even before Jenova had revealed herself to her son, she knew that Aralyn was a threat. She began to work her way into the girl's dreams, showing her the horrors of what was to come, just as she had plagued the pregnant Lucrecia. Aralyn's devotion would not be shaken, and overall, the opposite of the desired effect occurred; namely, she was driven all the closer to him, and he, to her.
She had considered waiting until the girl was dead to show herself to Sephiroth, but then he had come to her, to Nibelheim. She could not pass up such an optimal opportunity to latch onto him so strongly.
If she had gotten her way, Nibelheim would have been ash mere minutes after their reunion, but it had been Aralyn that had stood in the way.
Sephiroth had locked himself in the Nibelheim mansion's basement for days, refusing food or sleep as Jenova fought to coerce him into submission. She found that he was very strong, which made her proud, but increased her workload. He accepted her easily enough, grappling tightly to her as she satisfied his need for the parent he had never known, but any mention of Aralyn and he was back to his normal, adamant self. He insisted that she was not his weakness, and would not consent to be purged of her witchcraft. Jenova was often forced to waste precious time reentering his mind after the barest whisper of harm to his wife.
She didn't dare try to convince him that Aralyn no longer loved him; how could she? Messages from Aralyn overloaded his answering machine, once the rate reaching seven messages in less than half an hour. Though he didn't answer, he listened, wavering as she pleaded endlessly for him to pick up, her gentle words influencing the General far more than Jenova had. Instead of trying to break this bond, she tried to use it to her advantage, telling him that if Aralyn truly loved him (and she assured him constantly that she did) she would stand by him in this.
But Sephiroth knew better, and so on he had fought.
Jenova had been gentle, playing the part of a concerned mother, until Sephiroth had made the grave mistake of fleeing to Aralyn in his anguish. Jenova had turned wrathful and had made a quick decision; adoration could come later, but respect had to come first.
Seizing Sephiroth's body with every ounce of power she possessed, Jenova used her son's body to lash out at Aralyn. Sephiroth's spirit could only witness in mute horror as the very same hands that he had vowed never would harm her choked the breath from her body and the blade meant to protect her bit into her again and again. Sephiroth had fought with every fiber in his being, turning from furiously demanding control to pleading brokenly for mercy. Jenova would not relent until Aralyn had fallen, her body broken, maimed, at his own hands.
That had been the final straw. That night he had broken, and before the sun was up, Nibelheim was nothing but ash.
Jenova's wrath toward Aralyn had not abated. Even now, the woman made her son's heart race, eyes shine, and hands become gentle and merciful. He had been relatively obedient to her will until it became clear to him that actions taken would harm Aralyn. Jenova knew that she couldn't fight that bond again, should it be revived. It had nearly undone her control over her son last time; it could not be risked again.
And so she waited, lulling her beloved firstborn into blissful ignorance as Kadaj worked to rid her of this dilemma.
If the shine in her youngest son's eyes was any indicator, it would not be long.
"Make it soon," she crooned to Kadaj. "And make her suffer."
"Yes, Mother," came the unwavering reply. "Soon…only a little longer…"
With such clear declarations of adoration and dedication from her youngest, why did she feel that Kadaj was hiding something?