Mystic: Go check out RuskaSky. She wrote a two-shot Kuja/Hilda titled Hidden Desires. It ain't half-bad. ;D And I finally made a reference to my very first Kuja/Hilda fic. Please don't read it.
The Little Death
Apathetic, heartless, cold-blooded bitch. Lady Hilda knew good and well those were the adjectives going through her niece's mind. Both women were noble, born and bred into politics and responsibility, but as for the older woman, those days were over. She was tired of the drama, tired of the meetings, tired of the coughs and fevers from the citizens. She did her part, even if only temporarily. For the first time in many years, Hilda could live life on her terms, wake up in the mornings on her own time, and all she did in return was warm Kuja's bed whenever he asked. Not a poor price to pay.
After the awkward reunion between heroes and villain -(s?) was she a villain now? - the lady exited to her usual refuge from the world. Alexandria's garden almost rivaled that of Lindblum. Almost, because Garnet grew plants primarily for their beautiful appearance, not for medicinal purposes. Still, the scent of lilacs and roses calmed her nerves enough. When Kuja took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips, the courtesan smiled sweetly and lowered her lashes.
"Don't play coy, lady." Blushing on cue was a well-practiced artform.
"Then you really shouldn't play gentleman."
Hers was a worthless suggestion. Even when the sorcerer was at his most terrifying, he still offered her a cup of hot tea in the evenings and gave her the extra blanket during the cold desert nights. Once, after Hilda poured a tad too much liqueor in her hot chocolate, she asked if she could brush his hair. Instead of hitting her with a flare star like she feared, Kuja sat beside her in front of the hearth and whispered, "be gentle".
Those days were peaceful days. His library held books of vast literature, while his greenhouse provided health and vitality. "I plan to occasionally visit the realm," said Kuja. "Check in on Miss Rosemary a time or two."
Hilda giggled. "She did take an unusual shine to you."
"Only because I was connected to you, lady. It came to my attention that you were her favourite student, and apparantly, you upset almost everyone when you left to marry the regent." For once, no volume in his voice hinted of an insult. His eyes, always clear, twinkled of mischief.
"I wanted to avoid the role of courtesan, and now look where I am."
They both started to laugh, gayly and freely; Hilda leaned into him, wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a comfortable embrace. The air was crisp and light around them, sunshine bright and warm. "I'm a bit surprised," the sorcerer mused, "that the canary didn't ask the usual question."
"And what would that be?"
"Oh, a little word with just four letters. One that makes most men run screaming in the opposite direction."
She pulled back, oddly curious. "Love?" When Kuja winked, Hilda laughed again. "Ah, sorcerer, that word has created much trouble for me."
"And how is that?"
"Spoil -"
"Oh, no you don't, lady," he teased. "Either use your mouth to explain or do something else with it."
"Right here in the garden?"
"Give me one reason why it wouldn't be a grand idea."
The decorative cobblestones on which they stood would be bad on her knees. How's that for a poor idea? "You are a pervert like your brother." She kissed the tip of his nose to make her point.
"Zidane is more crass than I am," Kuja said with a shrug. "I prefer to be a bit more eloquent about things." His words created yet one more giggle from his mistress. "Come on, then. Explain why love creates trouble."
Red roses bloomed nearby, the universal symbol for passion and romantic escapades. "I did not love Sir David," Hilda started to explain. "Or, to be fair and honest, I stopped myself from loving him because I did not accept his offer. I loved Cid, a long time ago, and chose marriage. Yet, he betrayed me and broke my heart. And then sorcerer, I loved you ...the madman in a codpiece."
Kuja, in a very unusual and undignified manner, snorted, and pulled her back in his arms. "This world would be much better if more men wore them."
"I gave you my heart." She looked at him square in the eye. "Literally, and I suffered greatly for it."
"And what would you do if I told you I loved you?"
Hilda smiled. Maybe the cobblestones would be worth the scrapes and marks on her knees.
Black smoke hovered outside the palace walls. Regent Cid rubbed his temples and turned to address his council. "Tell me again how this is supposed to cleanse the air?" The smog increased the foreboding sense of death.
"It's been suggested," said Artania, "that plague is the result from pests and the fleas that hide in their fur. Pests and fleas don't like fire."
A recent city ordinance decried that barrels be burned among the city streets. Without Lady Hilda's presence, and the limited experience from the white mages in the local academy, barrels set aflame were the last option before the buildings themselves were torched to the ground.
"We have no other herbalist or physician anywhere in the city? At all?"
Artania shook his head. "Not with the skills of your ex-wife."
"Blood mages," murmered one lanky judge.
"No." Cid slammed his fists in the nearest wall. "I will not have any more to do with blood mages!" He whispered to himself, "Mother was right. I should have married that librarian from down the lane."
A portly judge with graying hair stared at the regent. "The curvy one with red curls?"
"Yes, she was my first kiss."
"She's my wife, sir."
Nobody on the council laughed when their regent dropped his head into his hands.
"I'd like it if we set some ground rules for our arrangement," said Kuja, letting his eyes linger over his mistress, and not always in a polite manner. They still rambled and strolled and in the Alexandrian garden, arms linked, faces flushed with laughter and the effects of the wine from earlier. Hilda's knees were only slightly sore.
"You surprise me, sorcerer. I didn't believe you required a safety word."
"Do you honestly think that I of all people, will subject myself to the embarrassment of a safety word?" He shook his head, mocking her. "Simpletons use safety words, lady. Us mages embrace all things tantric, including the shame and pain that accompanies it." Usually the result of throbbing hangover.
She playfully thought aloud. "Mm, the tantric ways of a mage." It'd be a spell she'd love to master before the years caught up with her. "That might make a good story."
"As long as it had a strong plot."
"Memoirs," she said. "Name your rules."
Ground Rule Number One: "Appearances have always been important to me, lady. I expect people to recognize immediately that you are my mistress."
Hilda nodded. "Dress the part. Understandable." In hindsight, it might have been a good idea to raid the chest that held the old clothes of Catherine's mother. Though skimpy, a few of the dresses were still appropriate for cocktails.
Ground Rule Number Two: "I don't share, so don't expect to attend certain parties."
"I appreciate that."
Ground Rule Number Three: "Everything in my palace is mine, though you are welcome to use whatever you wish like before." His gaze softened, and he stroked her cheek with the back of his hand.
As for Ground Rule Number Four: "Lastly, Hilda, I will claim any children you spring forth. They will take my name, not yours."
His words shocked her. She knew he'd claim them as heirs, but never did she expect he'd go so far to give them his name. It was a matter of custody when the parents were unmarried. Children automatically stayed with the mother regardless of circumstances; the traditional family unit. "Alright," she finally said. "Does that include Eiko?"
"No," Kuja answered. "The summoner girl is yours. I simply tolerate her for your sake."
Right, an understanding. One that involved shell paints and story time. "I'd also appreciate it, Kuja, if you didn't ever turn her."
"No," he said again. "She may stay a simple summoner. Though, if I may ask, lady, how long were you two planning to stay in Lindblum until your mind eventually cracked?"
Hilda's smile always told a story. "The only reason I stayed as long as I did was because of the plague outbreak. You see, sorcerer, for many months sleep eluded me. You filled my dreams at night and that put another strain on my already suffering marriage. Whenever Cid tried to touch me -" Kuja glared, but didn't interrupt. "- my scar would break open, and it would hurt. The very mention of your name broke me even further.
"Oh, Kuja," she whispered, her head against his chest. "You changed me in so many ways. I became so alone surrounded by so many people, I needed help. At midnight, when I was particularly depressed, my cauldron and I requested answers. BAD WOLF."
He didn't speak words, only continued to listen, his arms firmly around her.
"She gave me a message, a hint. Two little words that told me you were still alive. They were in High Terran of all languages; it took me an hour to translate two little words." Quiet laughter rumbled low in the sorcerer's chest. "Sometimes the BAD WOLF is a bit of a bitch."
His quiet laughter turned hearty. "What were those two words? No more spoilers."
"You hated them whenever I spoke them."
" ...And?"
"Hello, sweetie."
Not one, but two monarchs spied upon the pair. Zidane muffled his chuckles in his palm, steadied himself against a granite wall. "Right now, they are so sticky sweet toward each other, my teeth freakin' hurt."
"I didn't realize your brother had a romantic side." Garnet kept her voice low, stood close to her husband, her hair flouncing in his eyes. "I always assumed he'd watch a girl while she slept." All the while polishing his staff or stroking his dragon. After a glass of wine or two (or maybe three...) he'd extract the young lady's eidolons and consider it an enchanted evening. Garnet always felt slightly dirty whenever that memory decided to show its face and wave about its 'feely' hands.
"Still wouldn't put it past him, babe."
"Would you ever spy on a girl in her bed?"
"Hell, no! The women I hung around with charged extra for that."
"Zidane!"
He quickly hushed her, lest they get caught on their own current spying game. "Keep it down."
As much as it pained her to admit it, she said in Zidane's ear, "My mother had a word for mistresses."
Snerk. "Your mother had a threesome with Zorn and Thorn."
THE HORROR! Garnet immediately recoiled, wide-eyed and mouth agape. "...what? ..." Humanity suddenly collapsed around the young queen, black-and-blue upon an abused stuffed mattress unable to support people anymore.
"Ask Kuja; he walked in on 'em." Zidane spoke so casually about it, his bride wondered what else the genome had seen in his life that made a menage a trois involving her obese mother and creepy clowns the least disturbing incident to talk about.
"...what? ..." She waited patiently for him to crack a grin and say "GOTCHA!", but he never did. He never did. The air around her grew chilly and dark, goosebumps ran up her arms.
"And just what are you two doing over here?" In the middle of the world slowly fading into a dark abyss, the king and queen missed the sound of boots treading over dirt and cobblestones. Kuja stood before them, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. "Spying on us, are we?"
Hilda chuckled. "Little niece, are you into voyeurism?"
No. Nonononononono... No. "Kuja," said Garnet, attempting as much dignity as she could gather. "What I am about to ask you is highly personal, but I demand full honesty. Do you understand?"
The sorcerer shrugged calmly. "I always speak truth."
His mistress struggled not to laugh.
"My mother," Garnet said. "She was completely celibate after my father's death, was she not?"
Zidane facepalmed.
As for his brother, Kuja wrinkled his nose in an unhealthy disgusted fashion and desired only to smack Zidane so hard on his head that whatever brain matter actually lived there would simply pool out of his ears. "You fool," he scolded. "You complete fool. Are you so thick in your skull that you would tell your queen about her mother's indiscretions?!"
"So it's true, then?" Somebody had to yell out "GOTCHA!" by now. Why wouldn't they?!
Hilda asked, "Is what true?"
If he summoned a Flare Star right here, right now to wipe Zidane out of existence, his earned pardon would be immediately revoked. So for now, the king was safe. For now... "My lady, do you recall when I returned to the palace one afternoon suffering a horrific night terror?"
"Yes, I compelled your mind to peace. You never told me what it was about."
Zidane doubled over in laughter, while Garnet burst into shaky sobs.
"I saw things, lady; horrible, horrible things that can never be unseen." Even in passing conversation, Kuja now desired a hot bath. "Things I would protect you from."
"Are you talking about Brahne and those two jesters?"
Crickets chirped among the plants in the royal garden, until Garnet cried to the heavens: "Gracious Bahamut, MAKE IT STOP!"
Let it be known that not all hauntings involved disembodied voices or cryptic messages.