Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 8

Tempest's Lover

by Ariss_Tenoh 2 Reviews

"Ah, I hear it. His call. He would not call for me were it not... It matters not. I will always answer his call. Only his."

Category: Final Fantasy 8 - Rating: R - Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance - Characters: Seifer, Squall - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2005/12/30 - Updated: 2005/12/30 - 1216 words - Complete

Disclaimer: Final Fantasy VIII belongs to Squaresoft and its associates. Only the actual text and ideas are mine. This work is not intended for profit.

This little fic is an idea that keeps popping into my head every time I see Squall summon a certain Guardian. So I finally decided to give it a voice or rather a form. Hope you like it^^
_________________________


Tempest's Lover
by Ariss Tenoh



Ah, I hear it. His call.


He would not call for me were it not...


It matters not. I will always answer his call.


Only his.


Coming Beloved, I am coming. I whisper softly to him.


As I descend to his plane, I think of what I was and what I now am.


It is a humiliation beyond feeling and a suffering beyond endurance if it were not for the knowledge that it was, as humans call it, a necessary evil.


To imagine that I would one day fall to such a state... I would have shattered the Sky's Pillars and let its shards rain Death on Earth to avoid this indignity.


But it was not to be.


My kind and I would fall from Divinity, Grace, and Power to save mere pathetic mortals who never looked beyond their own meaningless myopic existence.


But it is as Hyne wills it.


I let these thoughts slip away as I coalesce into physical form.


Humans believe we never had one. Ignorant fools.


We sacrificed everything, even our bodies for them.


Our souls, sentience, and power remained. Though so weak and dwindling because we could not maintain these fragments on our own.


We needed human experiences, thoughts, emotions, and physical sensations to nurture us. To ensure our sanity, unity of mind, and essence. For though we no longer have bodies, the Soul remembers and it yet yearns.


Even this, humans would not willingly give us, deeming it too high a price to brandish the powers of Gods.


Humorous indeed. They certainly do not think so when confronted with a dragon's claws.


"Shiva..."


My priest calls and I as his Goddess must answer. My cold anger dissipates like a tempest blown away by a squall.


My Squall.


The barest of smiles adorns my pale lips, but he sees it nonetheless and knows it is for him.
I approach him with slow and silent steps. My reflection is captured in his eyes. My pale gossamer blue gown, sleeveless and glimmering with the light of a thousand diamonds. The gold of my hair, my sapphire eyes, and lustrous white skin.


His lingering gaze is his worship and prayer to me.


Mere words cannot describe my beauty.


Nor his.


You have not heeded my advice. My words flow into his mind.


He is silent.


So obstinate, my Squall is.


I reach out and touch his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into my hand.


And so beautiful too. Snow-white skin, blue gray eyes like a sea at storm, and hair soft as silk and brown as the Earth is when kissed by rain.


But it is his Soul that is the most beautiful of all. Pure and bright, not dulled by the world's darkness although he has seen and experienced it. Unrestrained by fleeting and frivolous emotions. Untarnished by cruelty, greed, or bloodlust. Even with his profession. Not corrupted by Death though he wields its power.


He is destruction in its truest most sublime form, as I am.


A human worthy of being Shiva's Lover.


It is no wonder that he is the only one whom I have given myself to without a battle. The one I have long awaited his birth, to claim the magnificence that is his being.


It is also no wonder that he will be the one to cause his own destruction.


For humans too cannot live devoid of touch and feelings. My foolish pupil persists in believing that he can.


You are feverish with desire and need


He does not meet my eye at my simple toneless statement. He knows it is a reproach.


Any human within these walls would be overwhelmed with joy to share your bed. You need not feel anything for them. Use them and discard them as you wish


Ah, now he gives me one of his famous glares.


Amusement glitters in my eyes. Again, only he would dare to look at a Goddess so.


He is quite special, the dear silly child.


Nothing more needs to be said. My hand pushes him back to lie on his narrow bed. I cannot touch him the way a human can, my hand hovers above him and evokes pleasure as it touches and trails the air surrounding his body.


He resists at first, his pride forever his eternal shield against any external influence, but a human is not my match.


I watch him. Pale bare skin enveloped in a rosy glow, stormy eyes glazed with desire, breath coming in shorter gasps. I drink in his moans, cries, heat, and bliss. I relinquish my hold over him when he reaches ecstasy....





Moments pass by in silence. Soon, he recovers and plays with the ends of my golden strands. I gaze at him fondly from my seat at the foot of his bed. I believe my hair reminds him of someone.


Speaking of that demon..


When will you tell him?


He is startled and my hair slips from between his fingers.


He has this annoying tendency to become lost in his thoughts. I would be offended were it not
him doing it.


"Who?" He asks in a nonchalant manner.


However, I can hear the caution and perhaps fear in its folds.


That human child with the temper of Ifrit, Quezacotl's impulsive nature, Odin's strength, and Siren's seductiveness


He smiles a little at this.


"I don't think anyone ever gave a more accurate description of Seifer," he says wryly.


He also has Ifrit's passion


Squall now has that calm icy look.


He should know it does nothing to me.


I continue to contemplate the contours of his face.


"It's not that simple." There is an undercurrent of resignation in his voice. He breaks our gaze and looks at the floor of his room.


Is it not? I ask him.


It is an unspoken challenge. A challenge it seems he will not rise to meet.


With those final words, I rise and move away from him.


"Shiva," his voice is low and soft as it is throughout our conversation.


I turn my head a fraction to regard him from the corner of my eye.


Silence, then "Thank you."


I say nothing and disappear from this physical plane.


As I retreat into the recesses of Squall's mind, a thought occurs to me.


Perhaps I should speak to Diablos once Squall falls deeper into the waters of sleep. Diablos has a remarkable talent for wicked scheming. He would accept my request and perhaps enjoy it as a challenge worthy of his time and skills of manipulation.


I wish to see that hidden potential in Squall's heart become the diamond that it should be.


Diamonds need searing heat to form and shine for the world to see. Who better to administer it than a soul that burns with the blazing intensity of a star.


I wonder if my Beloved will thank me then.



Owari
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