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year 5, quarter 3
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[attr="class","character-spring-1c"]“The Heart of Melting Magic"
[attr="class","character-spring-1d"]The weather was quite nice. When she first looked up at Mt. Hotan from a distance, she thought it would be bitterly cold and the trek a long nightmare. Instead, she found the carriage ride up the mountain path held little resistance, even if there were a few bumps. She also found the weather to be pleasant, requiring little more than long sleeves and a warm shawl. Even though the rocky grays and whites seemed to take the color from the mountain, there were still gentle tufts of gold and reds that suggested life was still thriving beautifully.
Despite the mild trip, she was still very glad to reach the Hotan Sky Resort. The bellboys took her items up to the room and she tipped them generously. She decided that she would stay in the lobby for a while. They had large glass doors and walls so one could see the wilderness just beyond. It was clear,though, that just outside, they were setting up for the alpine berry wine fair. Colorful tasting stations were being erected with signs that explained each of its notes and how the berries were grown. There were also food booths that allowed a tasting of each exquisite cuisine that was unique to the region.
Ah. It seemed she came a little too early.
For the trip, she dressed down. Partly for comfort. Partly because she currently did not have the funds for expensive dresses everyday. Still partly to draw less attention to herself in public. She wore a soft dress with long sleeves but an elegant line. Her jewelry accented her wardrobe, and her hair was pulled neatly back into a net.
There was a cavernous fireplace next to a bar that specialized in hot chocolate and allowed her the view of outside. Well, she must have a try at their specialities, mustn’t she? She ordered their sipping chocolate. It seemed the barista was most enthused to show her the best in show. He poured her a warm mug of chocolate and gave an overly generous amount of whipping cream on top, sprinkled with chocolate chips.
Thanking him, she took a seat at one of the tables with it. She tried to determine the proper way to drink this. But there were no utensils around to skim the cream off the top. It seemed everyone else was enjoying a cup without such things. She picked up the tray and mug and took a sip. It was a rich chocolate with a deep flavor. It had a creamy mouth feel. She had not tasted such a delightful cup before. Nothing so rich. She put her cup down.
Then, she felt her cheeks redden. From both the delectable, warming hot chocolate and the fact she just got whipping cream on her nose. She pulled out her handkerchief to dab her face clean again. It was quite a mess, wasn’t it? Still, she looked at it fondly. It warmed her spirit and her mood.
[attr=class,bulk] He had told Mikoto that he had business. It would take him approximately a week, he said, and she’d taken it as truth and continued her business. She was interested in salvaging the ruins of Kahiko Valley, thinking they might in some way be useful. Kuja saw no reason to stop her even when he noticed a strange flier clutched in her hand. What on all of Gaia was a ’Robo Rumble?’
It didn’t matter. She left the city in an airship. Kuja left it on the back of his dragon.
They both had places to be, it seemed.
At first, Kuja had only meant to verify the accuracy of Hilda’s spells. He instructed the mechanical bird to find her and, rather than let it do so freely, kept it restrained in a bubble of magic to use as a kind of compass. Wherever it wanted to fly was the direction they would take – namely North. They flew that way for some time, dragon, bird, and sorcerer, until they stopped to rest for the night outside of Provo. The next morning, they took to the skies again, reaching the more mountainous regions of Provo’s upper border by that evening. It was then that Kuja began to doubt Hilda’s abilities.
Certainly, the noblewoman hadn’t left for Sonora of all places. Certainly, it must have been a bug in the magic or some kind of mistake. Either that or perhaps…
…Perhaps Lady Hilda was in need of aid.
He refused to let his mind linger on that particular possibility, driven by sheer curiosity instead. Where would the bird take him, he wondered? And to whom?
The chill of the night told him that he was ill-prepared to find out. With the changing of the seasons, Sonora could turn deadly in its darkest, coldest nights particularly along the peaks of the mountains. As much as he hated to admit it, a change in wardrobe might have been in order.
It wasn’t as though he’d freeze to death, he thought as he perused through the offerings of a tailor on the Sonoran border. His body was was fairly resistant to such things, and his magic would sustain him in even the harshest of environments, but then his thoughts would drift to his last foray in the mountains – of foul, shivering moods and out of season avalanches – and he would continue looking for something that he could make do with in the colder climates. There was nothing designed for him, of course. Nothing in his preferred Terran styles which seemed so strange and lewd to the people Gaia and Zephon alike. He would have to expose his tail. There was simply no getting around it. Even with his usual illusions cast upon it, the fabric of most skirts would ruffle strangely over its invisible form – not to mention something which required a hole cut through it.
He decided on an eclectic mix of outfits which didn’t bother him too terribly much. It was in a Provoan style which wouldn’t have looked too far out of place for young, aristocratic men on the streets of Lindblum, colored primarily with white and black with gold embellishments, and it suited him fine despite the undershirt covering his midriff (uncomfortable, but necessary for the colder climate) and the stiff fabric of the jacket (the high collar and cravat suited him at least) and the unfamiliar fit of the pants.
Oh how he hated pants.
But the entire point had been to cover more of himself and there weren’t any skirts that he liked and his tail would draw enough eyes as it was so why not look dreadfully masculine for the day? He’d fit in better, visibly human or not, and for the time, he had little desire for prying eyes.
It would be a short trip, at least.
His dragon took him across the border into Sonora. She seemed fond of the mountainous ridges and valleys, and he made a mental note to lead her to the wilder territory to hunt on the way back. He himself had very little love for the region. The alpine trees were beautiful in their own way – like a multicolored carpet spread across the earth below – and he supposed that the horizon was stunning if he cared to admire it. It could have been lovely if it wasn’t from his particular wind-swept vantage point. The extra clothes helped ward off the chill but he longed for the desert’s dry air.
The mechanical bird led them to some kind of tourist’s destination nestled within the mountains. Kuja let his dragon descend in lazy spirals, not really caring about the worry it would cause. They landed on a cliffside overlooking the place, and Kuja sat there for some time, watching it. There were travelers and families about as well as fishermen, hikers, hunters, and rather harried looking guards, tensely looking to the skies. Sitting on the hill was a cozy looking lodge with light spilling from its high windows. The bird insisted that he’d find Hilda there, and he had no reason to disbelieve it. She must have been on vacation then or perhaps she hoped to align herself with some new nobleman, levying her charms for power in the only way she knew how. He only needed to tie his letter to the bird, let it fly, and then be on his way.
But he didn’t. Instead, he merely watched the place – an unseen threat lurking amongst the shadows of the waning daylight. A thought occurred to him then and he slid gracefully from his dragon’s back.
”Stay,” he ordered carelessly, and she shifted her feet, more than happy for her vantage point over the valley. One float spell later, and he’d descended from the cliffside and started across the grounds.
Why was he here?
Why, to give Hilda her letter.
And why had he chosen to do it in person?
For no reason in particular.
Perhaps it was because the lodge looked terribly inviting, warm and secluded on its hill. Perhaps he was tired from sitting on the back of his dragon and longed to sit somewhere warm and out of reach of the wind’s chill touch. It was most certainly not for Hilda’s company, and yet something strange fluttered within him as he stepped into the lobby and finally released the bird from its magical prison. He watched it take flight, gliding up to the lodge’s vaulted ceiling before descending in a graceful arch towards the windows on the opposite side of the hall. There were a few armchairs clustered there, facing the glass, and sitting at one of them was Hilda.
She was dressed differently – not quite as elegant or elaborate as he was more familiar with – but it was undoubtedly her. He felt his tail swish across the floor behind him.
Now he had no choice but to approach. Now that the bird had already reached her and he still had her letter.
Would she think that he’d been following her? Or perhaps she’d suspect he’d come to kidnap her again? His tail swished faster, and he willed it to stop. People were staring.
His heels clicked across the hall. Along one side of the room was a table serving some kind of hot drinks. Along the other was a vast, cavernous fireplace. He passed it all, stopping several feet away from Hilda so as not to accidentally sneak up behind her. She was sitting beside a cup of something thick and dark, and he hardly wanted her to spill it over herself.
”You look well,” he said simply, crossing his arms. ”I hope I’m not interrupting.”
[attr="class","character-spring-1c"]“The Heart of Melting Magic"
[attr="class","character-spring-1d"]Hilda was just putting her handkerchief away when the little white bird landed near her arm. It’s sudden appearance startled her at first, causing her to sit up a little straighter to take in this new guest. Her first thought was that a bird somehow flew into the lodge, as if nature wanted to greet the inhabitants of the lodge. Then, as her heart started to slow, she realized that it was her small prototype bird. It’s gentle gears turned as it carelessly began to preen its faux wings. She stroked its head with slender fingers.
How in the world had it made the journey? This surpassed even her expectations of its range. The bird also bore no letter. Her heart sank. Had it dropped the missive? Or mayhap Kuja had finally decided to jilt her? A forlorn expression touched upon her features. Could they not make peace with each other, after all?
Before she could sink deeper into her darker mood…
“You look well. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Kuja…?” Curious and surprised with widened eyes.
Her heart began beating hard in her chest again. She tried to will it to be still without much success. Had he followed the bird here? He came all this way to see her? No, that was a very self-centered thought. He must have come for the tastings as well. Or he had other business to attend to here.
Yet, she could not help but feel relief and delight that he was here, especially after seeing the bird without a message.
It was but a simple movement of glancing from the bird to the source of the voice on the opposite side of her. He remained a distant and cautious length from her. He too was dressed handsomely and outside of his normal attire…one that appeared to expose his tail. Tail…It was a bit of a shock, but she reasoned with herself that Zidane and the others had one. It made sense that it should be part of his anatomy too. It was quite rude to focus on it. So she didn’t. After all, her daughter had a horn and she made sure no one spoke poorly about her difference.
It made her realize she felt exposed in her own matter of dress. No one here knew of her past status, so it was mentally easier to wear simpler dresses around strangers. On Gaia, however, she would never have been seen in public without the proper regalia. That was reserved for her alone time or more intimate moments. There was a reason only authorized personnel were allowed up the elevator and in the observatory of Lindblum castle.
Even more exposed were her personal thoughts to him. She felt color touch her cheeks, as she pushed the thought to the back of her mind.
She placed a hand over her heart and rose to greet him. A warm smile on her lips. Whether he stalked her or not, she left him an open invitation to visit and share hobbies. She would not turn him away. Instead, she would show her openness to his presence. If he had meant to harm her, he would not have given her a chance to notice him. Or so she chose to believe in this moment. “Of course you are not interrupting.” She gestured towards the empty arm chairs. “Please, join me. We have much to discuss.”
She eased back into her seat, smoothing her skirts and sitting upright along the edge. “I see you have tested the prototype.” He said he wanted to at their last meeting. “The fact that it made it here is quite the feat. Perhaps, we can extend to a wider audience after all. Does the gift meet your approval?” She seemed very pleased at its capacity. She wondered how thoroughly Kuja tested it. “Though, I must admit, the purpose of the messenger bird was to deliver a message to prevent inconveniencing you.” She teased gently reaching for her warm mug of sipping chocolate. Then, she realized she was being rude to drink something without first offering one for him. “Oh. Shall I retrieve you a drink? It will warm you and the palate here is unique.” It must have been a chilly trip to get here. It was better to warm him up.
[attr="class","character-spring-1e"] Kuja Let's play the safe topics game.
Hilda’s voice was surprised. Taken aback, certainly, but there was no fear in it. Kuja had half suspected that she would jump from her chair, hands over her mouth, eyes wide to stare at him as though he might hurt her. Instead, she simply said his name and looked at him. He watched her eyes sweep over him and his unusual dress. What would she think of it? More importantly, what would she think of his tail?
Her gaze caught on it, sweeping uneasily across the floor, and then she looked away. She said nothing.
Her cheeks reddened, however. He wondered why.
After a long moment, she stood to face him with her hand placed at her heart. ”Of course you are not interrupting,” she said. She waved towards the chairs with a smile. ”Please, join me. We have much to discuss.”
Kuja didn’t know why he was surprised. Had she not acted exactly as welcoming on their last meeting? But that had been a meeting of chance, and despite reading her most guarded secrets, he still had the impression that she’d acted in some way on self preservation. This time he had sought her out. She had no reason to trust that his intentions were benign, and yet…
She returned to her seat as casually as though they were old friends. What had he expected?
He silently approached and took the chair angled beside her. Sitting wasn’t terribly uncomfortable in his new outfit. Gone were the sharp edges and unnatural bulk of his usual violet armor. Instead, he was left with merely fabric, and somehow that left him feeling more exposed. Kuja carefully placed his tail beside him so that he wouldn’t sit on it. The irritable thing flicked idly from where it hung off the edge.
”I chose to test its functionality before I trusted it with something as private as a letter sent to who knew where. It could have crashed into the mountainside or straight into an enemy’s hands.”
He felt…strange. Closed off, he supposed, in a way that was unusual for him. He was never open with his feelings – never truly honest with anyone but himself, but even so, this was worse somehow. He couldn’t place his finger on it.
Hilda offered him a drink. He accepted with an impassive, ”Why not?” It was strange that she would think of him in such a way, but he supposed it must have been natural. Just as he’d been raised to destroy, she’d been raised to please. Such was the price of nobility.
He felt as though he should say something – or perhaps several somethings – but he’d come on a whim and he didn’t have a speech prepared. Perhaps he should have. His whim had lasted several days of travel, but he hadn’t really expected to come inside to face her. For once, he didn’t have a plan.
”I read your letter,” he said finally. ”It was…eloquent.”
[attr="class","character-spring-1c"]“The Heart of Melting Magic"
[attr="class","character-spring-1d"]He drew closer to sit in a chair near to her. A moment was taken for him to arrange himself comfortably. The flick of his tail caught her eyes again, before she looked down at the partially melted cream in her drink. It was rude to stare, wasn’t it? There was a small awkward silence as he joined her. She casually filled it. “I grew accustomed to your other outfit. So much so that I admit it is stunning to see a different fashion.” Surely, this wasn’t his first time. But, she was so used to the beautiful angel in armor that scarcely covered him. It had taken her a moment to process the novelty. “It suits you handsomely.” She complimented him with a warm smile.
The small mug in her hands warmed her fingers. It took everything she had not to press the back of her hand against his forehead to see if he had a fever. He seemed a little off and in a way she had never seen. His words held no vigor. Was he ill? Had she misspoke?
“You can rest easy knowing that the bird will find me.” She paused to look at the bird fondly for a moment. “Wherever I go, it seems.” Though something he said struck her. “Though, if you prefer, we could use pen names or leave them unsigned.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Arcane encryption with our own sigil as a key?” She seemed to enjoy the idea of a secret pen pal a little too much. They were not at war or talking strategy, but she understood the need to keep personal thoughts meant for someone else private. He was already taking a risk. She would not ask him to extend it.
He agreed to a drink. Like one used to being served, Hilda delicately raised a hand to grab the attention of one of the bellhops. She lowered her hand, as Kuja admitted to reading her letter. She glancednat him, despite the strange welling feeling in her chest. Nervousness fluttered with curiosity. She felt the color rise to her cheeks again, as she tried to put on a 'is that so' so kind of look.
She glanced at the patio, in which the doors were opening to show the beginning of the wine fair. “Perhaps something a little stronger than sipping chocolate.” The bellhop, sharply dressed, bowed down to allow her to speak her order. “I spied on the menu an ‘alpine hot spiced wine’. Might you charge two for my room with a cuisine sampler?” The bellhop eagerly left to retrieve it for her.
Shifting back to face Kuja, she spoke gently. “I’ll let you know another secret of mine.” She gave a soft smile. “Mulled wines always comfort me.” Whether she meant from the cold or simply when she was in need of such comfort she did not clarify. But, she hoped sharing such wines provided him with the same comfort she received from the warming spices.
A gentle shake of her head at the realization she was avoiding the topic again. It wouldn’t do. She could not run forever. “Eloquent? You are too kind. It was nothing but the ravings of a grieved woman.” She politely downplayed her writing. She set her drink on the table in front of her now. “But I held on to the letter, because I could not let go of those feelings.” It felt so odd being so open. “I still do not want to.” She met his eyes for a moment.
She realized how stiff she sounded. It was because it was a little frightening to her that he knew. Not because he was once her captor. No. It was odd for her mind to be so bare to someone outside her court. Still, she found that she did not need the social masks today. She kept them up partially in the garden because he was so defensive and irritated.
Now she could see her honest letter had an effect. She was ready to talk about their past and their future today. Even at a resort full of tourists, she felt a sort of safety here tucked away in a safe nook on a frozen mountain. She reached out her hand to touch his own. The chill that still lingered upon his skin ate at the warmth of her own. Still, she gently squeezed the back of his hand as a sign she was present and here with him. “That letter had a great deal of words…All just to find such a complicated, and, at the time, sad word. Something I did not get to say to you.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. Her lashes lifted and there was a smile from the bottom of her heart. “Hello.” She felt the tears touch her eyes, but she bit them back. Ah. The memory of it was affecting her. “It’s so very nice to meet you.”
There was another lapse in silence as she tried to formulate her words. “Perhaps…I overstepped my bounds with my selfishness in wanting the words delivered?” It gave her such relief it was now in his hands. It took her much courage to put it there in the first place. Another pause as she looked down as if back in her head again. “You know my thoughts. You came all this way to see me. You have my ear.” She would accept the consequences.
[attr="class","character-spring-1e"] Kuja Let's pretend Kuja is not being awkward by being more awkward than him.
[attr=class,bulk] Hilda began with a kind of idle small talk. Kuja could have laughed. The situation called for declarations of horror and surprise, not mild compliments. Still, he supposed he would take what he could. She thought his new manner of dress ’suited him handsomely.’ That wasn’t a word he was quite used to. Beautiful, yes. Eccentric, perhaps. But never handsome.
His tail flicked with a veiled irritation. ”The weather here is harsher than I’m accustomed to. My body is naturally more resilient to the elements, but that doesn’t make it any more pleasant.” His tail flicked again. ”I last came to this place in search of a rare flower that I could use as an alchemical component. Even in the spring, it was frigid. Then I ran afoul a beast which, in its territorial frenzy, started an avalanche.” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. ”Needless to say, I wasn’t thrilled when your bird led me north. I thought a change was in order. One discomfort traded for another, I suppose.”
Still, he’d made it work. He’d found a fashion that was mostly suitable and accessorized it until it felt almost like himself. Apparently Hilda found it “stunning.”
That was satisfying enough, he supposed.
Hilda went on to the matter of their letters, and he felt the weight of his written words heavy in the inner jacket of his pocket. She suggested arcane encryption which wasn’t a terrible idea, really. It would take some coordination of their magic, but they were together now, and he couldn’t think of a better use of their time.
”If only you could read Terran glyphs,” he said almost wistfully. ”I don’t usually have to engage with ciphers for my most secretive of thoughts. There are advantages to being the only living soul on the planet fluent in a dead language.”
Even now, Hilda had a way of prompting him to speak his more honest thoughts. This too was strange. She already knew his secrets (or some of them at least) and she knew his nature. If anything, she would show only curiosity towards his extraplanetary origins and their implications. There was nothing he could say to shock her into silence.
Or very little he could say, at least. He seemed to have found it directly afterwards. He had read her letter, and that was enough.
For a moment, she was quiet. Her hand, previously raised to grab the attention of a nearby servant, lowered slowly into her lap. Her cheeks brightened into a blush. She looked out towards the rolling hills, carpeted in the decaying reds and yellows of the coming winter.
A servant trailed towards them. She ordered them both a glass of spiced wine. Kuja watched her and said nothing.
Time slipped like raindrops between them. When she spoke, it was softer than before. More sincere. ”I’ll let you know another secret of mine,” she said. ”Mulled wines always comfort me.”
Hilda smiled. Kuja did not. She danced around the topic with such grace that it might have distracted another, but he had come for one thing and one thing only. He needed to hear the words from her lips. He needed to know that her letter was real.
And so when she went on, placing her drink carefully in front of her, he listened. He tried to understand. For too long, he had ignored what she had spoken in between the lines. He had dismissed her unhappiness in Lindblum, her joy in the relative freedom of his palace, her interest in the forbidden arts that she could cultivate in the daylight of her new prison. When she met his eyes, he held her gaze. What was it that she truly meant now, sitting here by this mountainside view, waiting for their order of spiced, alpine wine?
”I could not let go of those feelings. I still do not want to.”
He thought that he was beginning to understand.
She reached for him and touched his hand. Kuja twitched, nearly pulling away on reflex, but then centered himself and allowed her touch. He was curious if nothing else. His tail swished beside him uncertainly.
“That letter had a great deal of words,” she said. Her grip on his hand tightened. “All just to find such a complicated and, at the time, sad word. Something I did not get to say to you.” She closed her eyes and breathed slowly. Kuja felt suddenly as though he were on the stage of a play, and she was an actress able to channel feelings of passion and pain into nothing more than the waver of her eyes.
When she opened them, they sparkled with tears. ”Hello,” she said. ”It’s so very nice to meet you.”
It was a brilliant line written by a playwright with all the subtleties that made whispers speak volumes. If this were a play and he were seated in the theater, he would know it in an instant as a declaration of forbidden love. But this was reality, not fiction, and he was an actor within it. He had no prewritten lines to say, and she acted on no intentions other than her own.
It was nice to meet him. His tail swished the feelings he couldn’t process for himself.
She continued, wondering if her letter was selfish, worrying that she’d offended him. As she turned her attention back to him, asking for his thoughts, he realized that he had yet to say anything since their conversation had turned to the letter. He was silent for some time, considering his words. He had flown across the country for this moment. What was it that he wanted her to hear?
”When I first set foot on Gaia, I was stunned by its beauty.” He spoke slowly. Thoughtfully. ”I’d never seen anything so bright and full of life. I was envious of all those who lived there, that they could experience such a thing each and every day and that they would take it for granted. I was saddened as well. It was a shame, I thought, that it would all have to die.”
He paused. It was a strange introduction, he knew, but he was not speaking the lines that he expected of himself. He would go off script. Just this once.
”The world’s people were strange to me. They had such odd thoughts and customs. I wanted to learn them all, but I knew I could not become one of them. They were expendable in the grand scheme of things, their lives nothing but fuel for Terra’s renewal. And should they learn of my true purpose, I would no longer be able to fulfill it. Which was a death sentence in my creator’s eyes.
”The people of Gaia were my enemy, and I was theirs. Should I fall, I had never expected that I would be missed. After all that I had done…”
He trailed off, looking out towards the mountainside. Below their veranda, people were gathering for some sort of festival. He pulled his hand away.
”You didn’t overstep your bounds,” he said before reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a letter of his own. It was only four days old, folded in a pristine envelope sealed closed by a blot of violet wax pressed with his personal emblem. It wasn’t an icon known by most even on Gaia, but she would have recognized it in an instant. It had decorated so much of his palace, after all.
He handed it to her. It was a strangely vulnerable position. Watching her, knowing that his thoughts were in her hands, wondering if she would wait to read it until she was alone or if she would simply tear it open this instant, forcing him to wait as she finished. He hoped she had the tact to avoid placing him in that position. He was uncomfortable enough as it was.
”You asked for a second chance,” he said. ”Under less extenuating circumstances. And here we are.” Here they were indeed, in a mountain lodge on an unfamiliar planet which laughed in the face of destiny. ”Should we not take it?”
[attr=class,ooc-notes]
[attr=class,tagline]@ladyhilda
He wrote a letter then came to speak to her in person anyway lol
[attr="class","character-spring-1c"]“The Heart of Melting Magic"
[attr="class","character-spring-1d"]Kuja offered her quite the explanation for his new clothes. She wondered if he must not feel completely comfortable in them. She pressed her fingertips to her lips in surprise at hearing his encounter with a beast that caused an avalanche. Was that the reason many of the paths up the mountain were blocked off?
“If you cannot teach me Terran glyphs, then I suppose you can always read them to me,” she said lightly. That would be fun, wouldn’t it? Perhaps she could finally make sense of the text after all this time - if not their sounds, but their visual meanings when strung together. He always denied she could learn. She didn’t have the sixth sense he had. Or something along those lines.
For a time, she spoke under his unwavering scrutiny. He knew she was bidding for time. He did not return her smile. It made her feel a little awkward and she glanced away to the cold outside, her smile fading slightly. It was strange to see him concentrating on her words. Usually, they mattered little to him and she was to be his captive audience instead.
And now, he was listening.
It was an interesting change. Though right now it made her feel a little self-conscious under his unwavering gaze. Then, the silence deepened as she waited for his response. Where was that wine?
He flinched at her touch, and she thought he would pull away. His tail gave the uncertainty away. It would have been within his right to tell her not to do that, she might have overstepped yet another bound. But, she could not stop old habits. Touch did wonders for the spirit. They could convey comfort and sincerity through simple gestures.
She resisted the urge to fill the silence. Instead, she waited patiently as he formulated his words. When he finally spoke, he had her undivided attention. He opened with his start on Gaia. It was terribly hard to imagine it from her perspective. She moved from one living planet to another with none of the needs of sacrificing one race for another.
So, instead, she tried to place herself in his shoes. To come from his sleeping planet, barely thrumming with life, and to find herself on a planet so full of life and beauty. But his first steps on Gaia, already meant a declaration of war. He could not form bonds with enemies.
It must have been difficult and lonely.
She tried to imagine herself coming here to Zephon. What if she needed to do the same for Lindblum as he did for Terra? What would she have done? The thought was frightening. Though she knew she would have made different choices, she still understood why he made some of the choices he did.
She had not noticed she still held his hand, until he pulled away to produce a letter from his pocket. She kept quiet as he handed her the letter. It was his personal seal and smelled faintly of him. She turned it over in her hands and contemplated on her next action. It was rude to read something so personal in front of someone.
She looked up from the letter and was at a loss for words for a moment. She studied him and placed the letter in the pocket of her sleeve. “I shall honor your written words later, if that does not offend.” It would help when she started to feel his absence and began thinking of him again.
The spiced wine arrived and it was placed at their table. She stared at it before watching him again. “You do not have to live that way anymore, if you do not wish for it.” She said softly. “You speak of the past, however what do you think of us now without Terra and your creator at your back?”
She watched him curiously. There was a gentle pause before she tried to recount her experience. “I watched you from a similar perspective. An outsider in a Terran home. Your customs and thoughts were odd to me as well. Perhaps the diplomat in me - knowing countries have different customs and perspectives - wanted to also understand those of Terra. However, the language barrier locked me out.” And perhaps that was also Kuja’s doing as well. Part of her wanted to know for survival. The other part was genuinely curious. They seemed so much more advanced than any nation she seemed before. It was a shame they could not find a way to cohabitate together. Both sides could have shared much with the other.
“Our differences do not make us enemies. The war between our people did.” She sat in silence for a moment, looking at the wine glass on the table. She would hold off just a moment longer. She looked up at him. “I suppose what I am trying to convey is: I would very much like you to walk with me today.” She turned to look at the festival starting outside. “I think it would be a good beginning to our second chance.” She watched the people mingling. “We have so much to share with each other since our last meeting.”
She leaned forward to pick up her glass and raised it to him, as if in toast. A show of her good will.
[attr="class","character-spring-1e"] Kuja Kuja: Be scared of me. Hilda: I refuse.
[attr=class,bulk] Hilda had the sense of mind to store his letter for later. Good. That was one hurdle cleared though now he couldn’t tear his mind away from the thought of her reading it. When would she open it? And what would she think? His heart pounded with a sudden and uncertain anxiety. He forced it to quiet.
What should it matter what she thought? Why should it cause him any trouble? There were more important things to worry over than her approval. He really shouldn’t have been wasting time here at all. And yet…
Glasses clinked against the table. Their wine. As the servant left, Hilda spoke again, softly. ”You speak of the past, however what do you think of us now without Terra and your creatore at your back?”
Kuja laughed. It was short and humorless and somewhat unlike him. ”Is that all?” It seemed an impossibly difficult question for one to answer all at once. ”That depends, I suppose. By ‘us’ do you mean you and I? Or you and your kind? The first has changed. The second, less so.”
His general disdain for the people of Gaia may have been born from circumstance, but they had done nothing but validate his thoughts on them. Perhaps with time that disdain could fade into a kind of general apathy. And of course, the change of circumstance allowed for certain exceptions to the rule.
Hilda told him of her time in his palace. He’d already read her experiences, of course, and witnessed them from his end, but he listened all the same. Truly, she was unlike the others, if her first reaction to his alien nature was curiosity and diplomacy rather than horror.
Perhaps that was why he allowed himself to be fond of Hilda. Even back then when it could have had deadly consequences, he simply couldn’t help himself.
Her conclusion gave him cause for thought. ’Our differences do not make us enemies. The war between our people did.’ He’d never considered it much of a war himself. To him, it was a slaughter. A simple culling of numbers. Their goal had not been to conquer the planet through violence, but simply the act of violence itself. He supposed it wasn’t a terrible perspective, however, if one considered Garland to be a regent of sorts sending his singular soldier forth on his behalf. Kuja himself hated the idea, but he could see the appeal.
It must have made more sense to a Gaian, he thought, than killing for its own sake.
She asked him to walk with her and raised her glass. He took his own in his hand and considered it for a moment. Then he looked at her, paused, and raised it in a show of solidarity. ”I don’t know whether to appreciate your forgiveness or to take pity on you.” He sipped from his glass. The spiced alpine wine certainly lived up to its name. He wasn’t certain if it was to his taste, but he could see the appeal.
”Let’s go together then. It seems they’re having some sort of festivities today.” He had no idea what, but it certainly seemed so. Was that what had drawn Hilda here? Or was she simply appreciating the mountain air? ”I’ll let you begin. What all has happened since I lost contact? And where have your travels brought you?”
It was safer than speaking of his own events. Though perhaps he would share in time. He made no promises.
[attr="class","character-spring-1c"]“The Heart of Melting Magic”
[attr="class","character-spring-1d"]He gave her a laughing snort at her question. She held her ground on it all the same. It was an important question, at least to her, to know his thoughts on the Gaian race. To see if the events that unfolded had changed him at all. It sounded like, in a small way, it might have. Though she felt her cheeks burn at his directness of how he now set her apart from the rest of the Gaians. “We are both aware there is new ground between us that should be explored. However, I meant more of ‘my kind’ and the people of Zephon as well.”
She shook her head and looked at the fire in the alcove next to them. She did not expect there was an easy way to answer her question or if she would even get a straightforward response. But perhaps, if she could change his mind about one Gaian, even if it was herself, then in time maybe he would grow to see others in a similar light. Or perhaps, she was just an anomaly and being foolish.
His next response about her forgiveness caused her to prickle. Had she not made it clear that she had not quite forgiven him at all. Her eyes drifted from the fire to her wine glass. Anything to keep from looking at his tail. The star anise floated at the top of the glass with a mixture of warming spices. It was like stars in a red sky. For a moment, perhaps the sun that filtered through the glass windows became clouded. It passed a shadow over her usually sunny features. Though, she continued to have her patient, pleasant look, her voice was slightly chilled. “Let me speak plainly of my forgiveness, Lord Sorcerer.” She sat up and looked at him. “When I was released from Mt. Gulug, I let my husband simmer as a frog all the way back to Lindblum Castle.”
She was sure Cid spoke true that he was glad she was unharmed. He was a cad, but he was also fatherly and did not truly mean to hurt anyone. He was a kind soul. He had felt humiliated at what he had done to his wife that to ask her to turn him back had to have taken great strength. But she was sure, that he did not solely come for her for her own well being. He wanted to be turned back so he could continue building his airships. These projects always came first to him. “Even as we stood in our chambers, I refused to turn him back until he gave me an apology.” One she had to poke and needle out of him. What was wrong with her? Such tactics were not like her, and yet the entire incident had driven her to be nothing but a monster.
“And even then, it was not until he swore on his father’s name - and my threat to turn him into a hedgehog pie for the next offense…” She gave a mirthless laughing huff of her own. The entire memory spoiled her mood. She had childishly threatened to turn him into an asexual beast that can produce its own eggs. “He could make his own bloody eggs.” She huffed before shaking her head and lightening up. It was as if a cloud lifted from her features and her face softened up. “I only forgave him then.” But was this really a way to hold a marriage together? And even if she hadn't forgiven him, she would have been expected to perform her duties as Regentess regardless. She would have carried on, pretending there was nothing wrong between the Regent and his wife in front of all Lindblum.
She glanced back up to Kuja, “I do not fully forgive you.” She stated directly, “And cannot until I have an apology. Which is something we both know is hard pressed. I will not ask for something I am not likely to receive.” She paused and regarded him cooly, the sun seemed to be coming back again as the light filtered back through the windows. She was not usually this frank, but it seemed she had to make her feelings plain.
“However, I do not need to let the past control my actions. Instead, I learn from it, move on, and take those lessons so I may only be curious about what the future holds. If I do not, I would not make it far in high nobility circles.” She took a sip of her wine. “I do not need to treat others the way I am treated.” Just because he treated her with hostility did not mean she had to do the same to him. Violence only begets more violence, and she grew tired of it. It did nothing but hurt, destroy, and leave scars.
He agreed to talk to the festivities with her today, and she smiled brightly. Excellent. She welcomed the change in topic. “They are having an alpine food and wine festival. It is all local flavors being showcased.” She stood up from her chair and with her free hand, smoothed out her skirts. “I came here to see the types of grapes they use, and if I prefer their wines. My family, before I became a Fabool, owned a duchy with many vineyards that were managed. I hope to manage my own if I remain on Zephon. It will take years to tame the earth - one cannot be too gentle or it gets lazy - but it could yield proper grapes in time.” She digressed and shook her head.
“My apologies. Let me start at the beginning. I, and one other gentleman, aided Dame Maxillar and freed her daughter - and her hedge maze - from a curse. As a reward, I was gifted a chateau and a position to help her run her school of arts. Her husband passed, you see, so she closed the school to take over the family’s primary business and affairs. But, with someone to help her manage, the school could soon reopen.” She shook her head.
She began walking toward the exit. “There is something I wish for you to look at. It baffles me, but perhaps you can make sense of it.” She paused for a moment to sort of explain. “In the garden I found three crystal bottles with lavender liquids. When I asked those at the Dame’s house, they told me they were love potions. But typically those are parlor tricks, nothing more than a mix of herbs to make one’s heart race for a short time.” She shook her head. “When I gave it to the Dame’s daughter, just as a White Mage’s intuition, it returned her love for her painting and dispelled her depression. It lifted the effects of her curse. I check in often, but it seems to have fully restored her. Have you seen anything like it?”
[attr=class,bulk] Ah, but he seemed to have touched a nerve.
He watched her with barely veiled amusement as she protested her supposed “forgiveness.” She watched her wine for a moment, her eyes veiled in shadow, as she told him a most interesting story regarding her lecherous husband. Kuja of course had never cared for the idiot regent of Lindblum, and couldn’t quite keep the smirk from his lips at hearing of his misfortune and of her prolonged vengeance.
It seemed she was trying to make a point, but in truth, she only endeared herself to him further. He longed to hear more about how exactly she’d made him beg at her feet, nothing but the miserable pest she’d rightfully transformed him into. Oh, how he must have croaked his pleas! He thought it brilliant, personally, and his eyes brightened at the thought.
She did not fully forgive him, she said, and Kuja laughed softly at her words. ”Nor should you,” he agreed. ”Though if I might offer a singular apology, it would be for my assumption that you had. I had underestimated your intelligence and ferocity. I hope not to do so again.”
Though as she went on, he couldn’t help but wonder…
”Why not? Treat others the way you have been treated? Is that not a proper way to value yourself?” He tilted his head, considering the lodge’s cavernous ceilings. It was a sort of hypothetical, not something that thought could have a definitive answer. Still, the way she spoke made him feel as though he should challenge her, and so he did. ”You are no longer restrained by the noble courts and personally I can think of little more satisfying than bearing witness to your fury.”
Yes, why not break the bonds of society and expectation? Why not act in ways that her oppressors would abhor? Why not become the untamed witch she had admitted she so admired?
All he could do was point her gently in the right direction.
She explained the reason she’d come to the mountains, and Kuja’s eyebrows raised in interest. An alpine food and wine festival? How very cultured. It didn’t quite align with his interests, but he supposed that while he was already here, he may as well join her and so he stood, wine glass carefully in hand. He was unaware that Hilda’s lineage gave her experience with vineyards, but they knew so very little about each other after all. He nodded and folded that fact away for later use.
”I know little of the process. I hadn’t the time.” Nor did he particularly have the interest. He didn’t see how it could be made to serve his purposes.
Hilda herself, however, could be quite useful depending on his needs. It seemed that in his absence, she had made connections with a powerful family who had become her patron of the arts. ”A school? And does such a position interest you?” He couldn’t imagine her as a teacher. It was too passive a role though perhaps if she needed to make ends meet…
Hilda asked him a question. Or rather, she told him a story and asked him his opinion. He listened carefully, considered the situation, and then answered. ”There are several possibilities that come to mind. There are potions made from certain monster extracts which can make a victim highly suggestible though I’ve never heard of any ‘love potion’ which restores one’s passions. There are stimulants, as you mentioned, and some elixirs which aid in depression. However if it was single use…”
He touched his bottom lip, deep in thought. ”You say that the daughter was cursed? I suspect that your love potions were nothing of the sort. They may have merely purified the malignant magic within her. Though I would need to inspect them myself to know for certain.”
He wondered. What sort of curse caused one to lose their love of painting? It seemed strangely specific. If he were to hazard a guess, the painting was only the most visible side effect of a magic meant to dampen the spirit. Its true aim may have been suicide.
”Keep an eye for suspicious persons, and if the mother is agreeable, you may wish to place protective sigils around the girl’s quarters. I wouldn’t be surprised if this was an attempt on her life, and someone using such complex magic is most certain to try again.” He wondered what this hypothetical assailant may have been after. Had the family spurned them in some way? Perhaps they were also responsible for the death of the father.
But that was enough speculation.
They came out to the veranda, and Kuja took a moment to admire the scenery. The view from here was not quite what he could have achieved on his dragon, but it was beautiful nonetheless. He closed his eyes and breathed in the crisp scent of fallen leaves and spiced apples.
”It feels strange to live so slow paced.” He opened his eyes and gazed down upon the people below. They milled about, sipping their glasses as they went from stall to stall. Somewhere, music was playing on instruments he couldn’t identify.
”I never had time before to admire the scenery. I still did, of course, but it was always in the midst of something more. Some war or scheme or other such business. It feels as though I should be doing something more productive, but I have little else to occupy my time.”
He glanced at Hilda. ”How does your patron feel about you traveling so far for something so trivial?”
[attr=class,ooc-notes]
[attr=class,tagline]@ladyhilda
Speculating from his experience as an evil sorcerer
