[Ficlet] Dissidia: Final Fantasy - Believe
Title: Believe
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Kuja asks Golbez to tell him a story.
Warnings: None
Notes: Request for toffeethesnob
Kuja was once a harbinger of war. In his world, he once took on the persona of an Angel of Death and used all his skills and his silver tongue to singlehandedly craft an entire bloody conflict that claimed countless lives, many of them innocent. So, perhaps it was fitting that he would end up fighting a war in this wretched, miserable world. To be forced to serve a master who was destined only for destruction, much like he was. To serve a god who was a god only in name, and just as helpless as he was. He didn't even have the relief of pleasurable company. Most of his fellow Chaos warriors were completely and utterly insufferable. Some of them were unpleasant to be around, others were insulting and crass. And then there was that tan skinned, bright eyed blond boy, who offended Kuja simply by existing.
Perhaps a small comfort was that not everyone was terrible. The young girl under Kefka's control, for example, Kuja felt pity for. A poor, caged bird who could not sing or fly away to freedom. And the man with the gigantic sword, who would so often gaze into the distance with doubt shrouded eyes. Kuja was rather fond of him. He provided surprisingly good conversation for someone who did not like to talk all that much, and for the fact that he reminded Kuja of someone. There was a third person Kuja did not hate, and that person just happened to be passing by right at that moment.
"Good day to you, Golbez," Kuja greeted. Golbez had done nothing to slight him, and that meant that he something that kind of, sort of, resembled a friend. "How do you intend to pass yet another day in limbo?"
"And a good day to you as well, Kuja," Golbez replied. "I am off to observe Cecil."
The two of them were, on a rare occasion between Chaos warriors, completely honest with each other. Neither was a threat to or hindered the other, and they stayed out of each other's way. Kuja cared nothing for the war between harmony and discord, and it didn't matter to him whether his "allies" were fighting or consorting with the "enemy."
"I should have guessed. That is your favorite activity, after all," Kuja chuckled. "Ah, brotherly love. A touching story that tugs at the soul."
Behind his helm, Golbez raised an eyebrow. He was used to Kuja's theatrics, but that didn't make them any less ridiculous. And he was only just getting started. Things could only get more dramatic from here. "Is it really so interesting a story?"
"This place is droll, Golbez," Kuja said, curling a hand beneath his chin. "One must find entertainment where he can. For some people, it's the bloodbaths that fuel this world's very existence. I, however, have more refined tastes."
"Then you wish to hear about Cecil and myself?" Golbez asked, then added. "I did not know you were interested in my past, Kuja."
"I am an aficionado of stories, you know that," Kuja replied, then gestured to Golbez with his hand. "An admirer of the drama and emotion that can be found within. Surely, Golbez, your tale is one rife with them."
Letting out a contemplative sound, Golbez knew that Kuja had some kind of ulterior motive. However, he didn't think it was a harmful one. Kuja was hiding something, but it wasn't malicious intent. Very well then. He would share his story with him. He told Kuja it would be long, who merely dismissed it with a wave of his hand, saying he had nothing better to do. Giving it one last thought, Golbez agreed to tell Kuja about himself, though such a long story would have to be told over multiple sittings.
As it turned out, Golbez's story was just as much about Cecil as it was about the warlock himself. Golbez noted Kuja listening with great interest, proving that he was sincere when he said he wanted to hear about his past.
Kuja asked questions and made comments every now and then. Some of them were just requests for clarification, or idle commentary. Others stood out as more serious.
"This is all quite familiar to me," Kuja said at one point.
"Why is that?"
"A once beloved leader turns into a power hungry warmonger, attacking countries without cause, and eventually having a trusted knight rebel. It's a story I know well."
Golbez crossed his arms at that. Who did Kuja think he was fooling? Or was he just trying to be whimsical? He paused for a moment, having momentarily forgotten where he was in his story. "Kuja, after this, will you tell me your story?" When Kuja didn't reply, he added, "It would only be fair. A tale for a tale."
It was a good ten seconds before he got any reply. "...very well. I suppose a fine storyteller such as yourself deserves compensation."
Three days later, Golbez reached the end of his story.
"You say you came from the moon?"
The strange thing about that, Golbez noticed, was that Kuja didn't sound surprised or shocked. Merely curious and he looked lost in thought. "Not quite. My father did."
"Hmm. And another thing."
"Yes?"
"How is it, Golbez, that you are able to still love and care so much for your brother, who raised a sword against you?"
Golbez turned away from Kuja. "Cecil only fought to protect what he loved, and despite my crimes, he fought to protect me as well."
The next question made Golbez pause. "Then is that why you watch over him and seek audiences with harmony in this world? Out of debt?"
"Not debt, Kuja," Golbez replied, looking over his shoulder. "Out of love, and because I believe in him."
"Believe?"
"Yes. Believe. I know that Cecil has the strength needed to put an end to this cycle of despair. He need only realize it himself. And that gives me the hope I need to continue on in this forsaken land."
Kuja muttered something, and Golbez could not hear it clearly. He was about to ask Kuja a question when the other man spoke up. "Well, it was quite a fine tale, Golbez, one that exceeded my expectations. As promised, I will keep my end of the bargain and tell you a story of my own. However, not today. There is something I must attend to. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
As he passed by Golbez, the warlock took the opportunity to ask his question.
"Kuja. Do you have ties to harmony as well?"
Pausing, Kuja turned around. "Really now, Golbez. You'll just have to be patient. You wouldn't want to have the whole story spoiled now, would you?"
Zidane yawned and opened his eyes, blinking a few times to shake off the last remnants of sleep. Ah, a midday nap just couldn't be beat. Today was a rare occasion: a day where he traveled alone, patrolling the areas near the Order's Sanctuary. (The job fell to him because Prishe went who-knows-where and hasn't been seen or heard from in days.) Lightning had offered to go with him at first, but the two of them hadn't gone twenty paces when Zidane got just a little too close for her comfort and found himself quite literally thrown out of the Sanctuary.
"I changed my mind," she told him. "I'll stay here and guard the Sanctuary. You go make yourself useful." Lightning turned around and started to head back into the Sanctuary, then stopped to yell one more thing. "And don't get yourself killed."
While he wasn't the most serious person around, Zidane did take care to stay safe, especially when no one else was around to watch his back. One of those precautions was sleeping in trees. Hidden amongst the branches, it was much harder for any potential enemies to spot him. Now that he was awake, he put his arms on the branch and stretched by arching his back and flicking his tail. Now, to get down. Lazily, Zidane turned his attention towards the ground to find a route, but stopped when he noticed there was somebody down there, looking right up at him.
"Well, it's about time you woke up," Kuja snorted as Zidane recovered from his surprised and climbed down to the ground.
"Kuja, what are you doing here?" Zidane asked.
Kuja looked surprised. "Aren't you going to draw your weapons?"
"Nah," Zidane said, glancing for a moment at the daggers at his waist. "If you were going to kill me, you would have done it while I was still asleep."
"I always forget you're not as dim witted as you appear to be," Kuja said, enjoying the annoyed look Zidane gave him. "I've come to tell you that I tire of this war."
"And?"
"Will you let me finish? And that I know that the way to end it is for Chaos to be defeated."
Zidane frowned in confusion. "So...what, are you saying you're switching sides?"
"No, what I'm saying is I'm going to help by giving you information."
"Close enough." Zidane stretched a bit more, turning from side to side to work out a few remaining kinks in his back. Kuja cringed a little when he heard a few pops. "But let's talk about that later. As long as you're here, why don't you tell me what you've been up to lately? Me, I kinda pissed someone off yesterday, and I don't think she's gonna let me back in the Sanctuary for another two days or so..."
As the twelfth cycle came to a close, Golbez mused that Kuja never was able to tell him that story he was promised.
Pairings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Kuja asks Golbez to tell him a story.
Warnings: None
Notes: Request for toffeethesnob
Kuja was once a harbinger of war. In his world, he once took on the persona of an Angel of Death and used all his skills and his silver tongue to singlehandedly craft an entire bloody conflict that claimed countless lives, many of them innocent. So, perhaps it was fitting that he would end up fighting a war in this wretched, miserable world. To be forced to serve a master who was destined only for destruction, much like he was. To serve a god who was a god only in name, and just as helpless as he was. He didn't even have the relief of pleasurable company. Most of his fellow Chaos warriors were completely and utterly insufferable. Some of them were unpleasant to be around, others were insulting and crass. And then there was that tan skinned, bright eyed blond boy, who offended Kuja simply by existing.
Perhaps a small comfort was that not everyone was terrible. The young girl under Kefka's control, for example, Kuja felt pity for. A poor, caged bird who could not sing or fly away to freedom. And the man with the gigantic sword, who would so often gaze into the distance with doubt shrouded eyes. Kuja was rather fond of him. He provided surprisingly good conversation for someone who did not like to talk all that much, and for the fact that he reminded Kuja of someone. There was a third person Kuja did not hate, and that person just happened to be passing by right at that moment.
"Good day to you, Golbez," Kuja greeted. Golbez had done nothing to slight him, and that meant that he something that kind of, sort of, resembled a friend. "How do you intend to pass yet another day in limbo?"
"And a good day to you as well, Kuja," Golbez replied. "I am off to observe Cecil."
The two of them were, on a rare occasion between Chaos warriors, completely honest with each other. Neither was a threat to or hindered the other, and they stayed out of each other's way. Kuja cared nothing for the war between harmony and discord, and it didn't matter to him whether his "allies" were fighting or consorting with the "enemy."
"I should have guessed. That is your favorite activity, after all," Kuja chuckled. "Ah, brotherly love. A touching story that tugs at the soul."
Behind his helm, Golbez raised an eyebrow. He was used to Kuja's theatrics, but that didn't make them any less ridiculous. And he was only just getting started. Things could only get more dramatic from here. "Is it really so interesting a story?"
"This place is droll, Golbez," Kuja said, curling a hand beneath his chin. "One must find entertainment where he can. For some people, it's the bloodbaths that fuel this world's very existence. I, however, have more refined tastes."
"Then you wish to hear about Cecil and myself?" Golbez asked, then added. "I did not know you were interested in my past, Kuja."
"I am an aficionado of stories, you know that," Kuja replied, then gestured to Golbez with his hand. "An admirer of the drama and emotion that can be found within. Surely, Golbez, your tale is one rife with them."
Letting out a contemplative sound, Golbez knew that Kuja had some kind of ulterior motive. However, he didn't think it was a harmful one. Kuja was hiding something, but it wasn't malicious intent. Very well then. He would share his story with him. He told Kuja it would be long, who merely dismissed it with a wave of his hand, saying he had nothing better to do. Giving it one last thought, Golbez agreed to tell Kuja about himself, though such a long story would have to be told over multiple sittings.
As it turned out, Golbez's story was just as much about Cecil as it was about the warlock himself. Golbez noted Kuja listening with great interest, proving that he was sincere when he said he wanted to hear about his past.
Kuja asked questions and made comments every now and then. Some of them were just requests for clarification, or idle commentary. Others stood out as more serious.
"This is all quite familiar to me," Kuja said at one point.
"Why is that?"
"A once beloved leader turns into a power hungry warmonger, attacking countries without cause, and eventually having a trusted knight rebel. It's a story I know well."
Golbez crossed his arms at that. Who did Kuja think he was fooling? Or was he just trying to be whimsical? He paused for a moment, having momentarily forgotten where he was in his story. "Kuja, after this, will you tell me your story?" When Kuja didn't reply, he added, "It would only be fair. A tale for a tale."
It was a good ten seconds before he got any reply. "...very well. I suppose a fine storyteller such as yourself deserves compensation."
Three days later, Golbez reached the end of his story.
"You say you came from the moon?"
The strange thing about that, Golbez noticed, was that Kuja didn't sound surprised or shocked. Merely curious and he looked lost in thought. "Not quite. My father did."
"Hmm. And another thing."
"Yes?"
"How is it, Golbez, that you are able to still love and care so much for your brother, who raised a sword against you?"
Golbez turned away from Kuja. "Cecil only fought to protect what he loved, and despite my crimes, he fought to protect me as well."
The next question made Golbez pause. "Then is that why you watch over him and seek audiences with harmony in this world? Out of debt?"
"Not debt, Kuja," Golbez replied, looking over his shoulder. "Out of love, and because I believe in him."
"Believe?"
"Yes. Believe. I know that Cecil has the strength needed to put an end to this cycle of despair. He need only realize it himself. And that gives me the hope I need to continue on in this forsaken land."
Kuja muttered something, and Golbez could not hear it clearly. He was about to ask Kuja a question when the other man spoke up. "Well, it was quite a fine tale, Golbez, one that exceeded my expectations. As promised, I will keep my end of the bargain and tell you a story of my own. However, not today. There is something I must attend to. Now, if you'll excuse me..."
As he passed by Golbez, the warlock took the opportunity to ask his question.
"Kuja. Do you have ties to harmony as well?"
Pausing, Kuja turned around. "Really now, Golbez. You'll just have to be patient. You wouldn't want to have the whole story spoiled now, would you?"
Zidane yawned and opened his eyes, blinking a few times to shake off the last remnants of sleep. Ah, a midday nap just couldn't be beat. Today was a rare occasion: a day where he traveled alone, patrolling the areas near the Order's Sanctuary. (The job fell to him because Prishe went who-knows-where and hasn't been seen or heard from in days.) Lightning had offered to go with him at first, but the two of them hadn't gone twenty paces when Zidane got just a little too close for her comfort and found himself quite literally thrown out of the Sanctuary.
"I changed my mind," she told him. "I'll stay here and guard the Sanctuary. You go make yourself useful." Lightning turned around and started to head back into the Sanctuary, then stopped to yell one more thing. "And don't get yourself killed."
While he wasn't the most serious person around, Zidane did take care to stay safe, especially when no one else was around to watch his back. One of those precautions was sleeping in trees. Hidden amongst the branches, it was much harder for any potential enemies to spot him. Now that he was awake, he put his arms on the branch and stretched by arching his back and flicking his tail. Now, to get down. Lazily, Zidane turned his attention towards the ground to find a route, but stopped when he noticed there was somebody down there, looking right up at him.
"Well, it's about time you woke up," Kuja snorted as Zidane recovered from his surprised and climbed down to the ground.
"Kuja, what are you doing here?" Zidane asked.
Kuja looked surprised. "Aren't you going to draw your weapons?"
"Nah," Zidane said, glancing for a moment at the daggers at his waist. "If you were going to kill me, you would have done it while I was still asleep."
"I always forget you're not as dim witted as you appear to be," Kuja said, enjoying the annoyed look Zidane gave him. "I've come to tell you that I tire of this war."
"And?"
"Will you let me finish? And that I know that the way to end it is for Chaos to be defeated."
Zidane frowned in confusion. "So...what, are you saying you're switching sides?"
"No, what I'm saying is I'm going to help by giving you information."
"Close enough." Zidane stretched a bit more, turning from side to side to work out a few remaining kinks in his back. Kuja cringed a little when he heard a few pops. "But let's talk about that later. As long as you're here, why don't you tell me what you've been up to lately? Me, I kinda pissed someone off yesterday, and I don't think she's gonna let me back in the Sanctuary for another two days or so..."
As the twelfth cycle came to a close, Golbez mused that Kuja never was able to tell him that story he was promised.