Mystic: Never fear. I haven't forgotten Eiko.

Don't Blink

Do you remember that ladder of adultery I mentioned? Allow me to explain my personal guilt as I willfully stepped on the bottom rung.

Kuja always treated me with civility, but he also talked quite a bit. I freely admit that he spoke of a horrific nightmare, but you must realize one thing: I did not see any of it. I spent my time in his vast library, or other times in the greenhouse by his cellar. And as strange as it may seem, after he spoke for hours about his own nightmare, he then willfully listened to mine. That mage confused me so much that his supply of white willow bark began to dwindle. For those of you ignorant of white willow (you poor dears), it is a marvelous pain reliever.

I do believe that because of his treatment of me, my perception of him became sort of twisted. Instead of paying attention to the harm he was committing, I found my focus drawn to our own interactions. When all logic dictated that my life be ended, he allowed it to carry on. Kuja, the last sorcerer, the angel of death, allowed a simple wise woman to live.

A clear memory forever lives in my mind; Kuja defended me to Garland. That old geezer wanted me truly dead, considered me a burden, a liability. My gratitude to my warden might have fogged my decision-making, but to this day, I do not really regret my actions. If the facts must be laid upon the table, then let it be known how those actions possibly saved his life.

I gave Kuja a part of me, my essence.

Blood.

Before you say anything of ancient legends or bedtime stories, let me point out that I do not have fangs and I can spend hours in the sunshine without side effects. However, my people have been known to dabble in blood magic from time to time. Well, lots of the time. Moving along.

Now do you understand why a few of my ancestors were burned or beheaded? It's almost a miracle that we survived such fierce persecutions. And it's another reason we now tend to hide away in the forests.

"Lavender, chamomile, elderflower, purple coneflower, sage ..." Each plant and tree, flower and weed, were healthy and lush in the palace garden. Lady Hilda tended to each one with care by her own hands. In a kingdom surrounded by sick air and disease, the lady's garden stood fresh and clean. Kuja breathed deeply, gave an honest smile.

"Lady, I do believe your garden has surpassed my greenhouse." He ran a palm across the bark of a white willow tree. "Please tell me you have hawthorn."

She handed him a wicker basket. "I have hawthorn." The berries made a wonderful jam for biscuits. Every woman within the Lindblum border kept a family recipe. It strengthened the heart, especially a man's.

"Why did I ever let you go?"

Hilda paused from snipping off the chamomile flowerheads. "Can we not do this now? My husband is inside and most likely sent Zidane to spy on us." A rustle from nearby tree limbs caught her attention, as well as confirmed her suspicions.

Kuja gave an undignified snort. "Yes, lady; tell me how happy you are with your husband and I shall never approach the subject again." After five solid seconds of silence, he grinned. "Now, tell me exactly why your marriage is being investigated by the tribunal court." Another rustle from the same tree broke their exchange.

"Regent Cid wants our marriage dissolved."

"He does or you do?" When Kuja reached out to caress her cheek, every fiber of nerves started to jump like the little child who discovered a hidden treat. This particular treat caused far worse than occasional indigestion. "Like it or not, Lady Hilda, you and I are bound together. It's why I survived."

Willpower made her grasp his wrist. "Show me your eyes, Kuja."

"What?"

"Look at me, sorcerer, and blink. Just once." It was only a quick flash, a mere second of revelation. His eyes, always clear and attentive, turned black with an untapped source. Unless a person was a certified mage, they'd never even notice it. "I'm sure my little niece had some words with you." The faded scar on Hilda's wrist began to throb.

"I believe she was too sick to care."

"Well, it doesn't match your complexion."

"And the dress of a housemaid does not complement who you really are. You should wear the reds and blacks like your ancestors."

She brought him out here to be alone together, not to sass each other with equal wit. "Kuja, what did you expect to happen when you arrived?" When citizens lay ill, the gossip spread worse than the germs. "Do you think I'll just jump into your arms, or let you into my bed?"

Her words, strong in meaning, stopped all attempts at harvesting necessary medicine. "Are there impediments to your marriage?"

"Two," she admitted. Out in the crisp air, Kuja smelled like the monks from her village. Pleasant, strong, a known sage. "Defect of form ...and fraud."

"Fraud?" He queried, a bit wide-eyed. "Ah, his affairs. He never intended to be faithful." After yet another rustle from the tree branches, Kuja took Hilda by the arm and led her further into the garden. "Can you even prove a lie, my lady? The regent will deny it to save face."

Decorum dictated that her arm be linked through his elbow because he was nothing more than a gentleman guest. Kuja waived that away and instead held his arm around her waist. When Hilda refused to move his arm, decorum slowly died at the hands of intrigue and scandal. "Of course I cannot prove it. That is why I'm relying on defect of form. My people have a law against a marriage to a non-mage."

"And how would they respond if they knew you stayed within my palace walls?"

"Kuja..."

"Or that you gave me your own blood -" Her scar continued to throb throughout their conversation.

"Kuja!"

"Do not get cross with me, lady." Their stroll came to a sudden halt. "I'm here because your regency is dying, and another part of me longs dearly for my prisoner."

She stepped back. "Kuja, I have a daughter now." Motherhood, even through adoption, changed her view of certain circumstances.

"Yes, yes; the summoner girl. Zidane tells me you sent her away."

"Eiko is safe in the forests of my people." Any little girl would enjoy the chance to run in the fresh air all day with minimal responsibilities, unlike a noble house with rules and strict manners. As long as Eiko kept her studies steady, her life was hers to live. "I'm sure you noticed, Kuja, but summoners are not immune to plague."

"And where will you go, Hilda, when your marriage is dissolved?" The word 'if' was not really needed.

"I shall return to the forests."

Kuja plucked a poppy flower from the earth, its petals a vivid red. "Or, and you should realize that this is smarter, you can return to me. You and the summoner girl."

If anyone were to peek inside at the lady's heart, they'd lose count at the many scars where it snapped and managed to piece back together. She took the flower and added another scar to her already bruised heart. "My niece might have given you a full pardon, but Eiko never will."

Kuja simply chuckled. "It's not like I have use for eidolons anymore. My power comes from a new source, one that would greatly benefit even her." He stared at Hilda, eyebrows cross. "Why haven't you turned the girl?"

"Because she is a child! It'd do far more harm." Hilda reached up to cup the side of his face. "Please don't make me regret turning you. I'm very shocked that you even took it at all."

"My brother had a reason for climbing out of that tree, and you better believe that I had mine." He took her palm and gave it gentle kiss. "We are bound, lady Hilda, and I will have you back."

More guilt, more regret, would it ever stop?

"We should go to the Industrial District," she said softly. "The plague is most rampant there."

"Look for the red crosses, correct?"

"Yes."

The tension between them would break the sharpest knife owned by any Qu. "You still owe me a kiss, Hilda."

Note to self: do not play a round of cards with a witty sorcerer, especially if he demands the Treno, 'house rules'. "Now is not the time to collect on that debt, sorcerer." The kiss expected was no less than those seen at the doorways of bawdy-houses.

"I understand, lady," he said. "Though, per the rules, I must ask for interest."

She chuckled, fought the strong urge to slap his jaw, but instead reached up to place a soft kiss on his cheek. "May that delay proper payment?" she asked.

He gave a gentle nod and, his arm once more about her waist, they left the area.

From his perch in a strong, healthy apple tree, Zidane observed the pair as they collected a few more herbs and flowers. Baskets full, they made their way to the exit toward the Industrial District. The thief plucked an apple, wiped it on his shirt. "Oh, man," he muttered. "Cid is royally screwed, and I don't mean it in the fun way."

"OI! What the hell are you doing up there?!"

Surprised and caught off-balance, Zidane crashed to the ground, the apple plunking him on the head. "Son of a -" An angry redhead stared down at him, not impressed with his status in society or place on the dirt. "You must be Catherine." Late teens, hard-working, and always speaking her mind when nobody asked for it.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" She let him sit there, sheepish and embarrassed. "What right do you have to spy on my mistress and the doctor?"

"Regent Cid -"

The maiden scoffed. "Oh, that man." She spat it like a four-letter word. "My lady is the one in power around here, did you know that? The regency will come crashing down when she leaves. It almost fell before. And look at you, mister consort of Alexandria. Some king or thief you are." Catherine didn't just run her mouth, she sprinted with it.

Zidane calmly picked up his apple and took a bite. Catherine wore a very nice corset. "Please, continue. This is entertaining."

"I have no idea what that young queen sees in you. What, you go about the world and save it from destruction? Good in bed?"

He nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"Bite me, monkey boy!"

As she stormed off, Zidane called out, "My queen will get upset if I do!" Queen Garnet, like her aunt, did have a bit of a jealous side. Thankfully, none of her books contained a chant that involved oglops, frogs, or other shameful creatures. Also thankfully, Zidane kept his vows.

What neither Zidane nor Catherine realized, Regent Cid watched the entire exchange from a window on the north side of the castle walls. His emotions were a jumbled mess of anger, sadness, and a few others that he didn't want to ever admit. He recalled Lady's Hilda anger when he came clean about the affair. She spoke words of vile magic, after giving him a hard slap, then blinked. If an oglop were able to scream, he would have done so, but an oglop has a tiny mouth. But fear seized him; his lovely wife stared him down with black eyes that obviously meant bad things were about to happen.

To this day, he recoiled every time she blinked.