Title: Weakness
Fandom: Final Fantasy VI
Characters: Kefka/Terra
Rating: SFW/Teen
Word Count: 1272
Content Notes: Unhealthy relationship, power imbalance, general creepiness, somewhat unreliable narrator.
Summary: Terra hates refusing Kefka anything. But this time, she has to say something.

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Terra just had to say something.

It had been crawling in her mind for a long time. She kept waking up in the middle of the night screaming, and she’d thought that Kefka would complain or shout at her, but he never did; he’d just turn and grab her and pull her so close that she felt like a part of him. Somehow that helped, and it made it easier to drift off to sleep, but then the nightmares would come again... and he was never holding her when she woke up.

She hadn’t wanted to tell him, because she knew that he wouldn’t want to hear it, and telling Kefka things he didn’t want to hear was something she’d learned to avoid. But her hands shook when she tried to call her magic, and today all she’d managed was puffs of smoke. She had to say something, or he’d find out, and that might be even worse. He was so proud of her when she used her magic; what would he say if she lost it?

Her heart was racing as she walked to his workshop. She was wearing his favorite dress, soft and silken - and red, of course, like everything else he’d given her. The soldiers saw her and separated for her, although she could feel them staring and tried her best to ignore it. Kefka’s training exercises usually ended with a lot of people hurt, and he almost never let her try to undo what she’d done. He’d know if she healed them, he’d whispered, eyes gleaming, and they didn’t deserve it.

Kefka was bent over at his desk when she entered, reading what looked like a blueprint and muttering something to himself that she couldn’t quite understand. He did not look up as she approached, even when she was standing right next to him.

She had to say it quickly. She’d lose her nerve if she didn’t. “Sir... I can’t do this anymore.”

He didn’t look up. He kept reading, muttering something about circuits and whatnot, and even though she was right next to him, she still couldn’t understand.

“I can’t,” she said again, trying to keep her voice quiet and gentle. “I can’t doing hurting the other soldiers like this. I have nightmares about them -“

He tsked at her, shaking his head, still not looking up. “Oh, Terra,” he said softly. “Nightmares? Ha... if I dreamed of every bug I squashed, I’d never sleep again!”

“I... I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “But I can’t do it. I can’t sleep at night, and my magic...”

He looked up at her, grinning widely, but his eyebrows shot up and his fingers began to twitch. His smile could change to rage at any moment. “Hm? Speak up, girl. What are you saying about magic?”

There was no point in waiting. He’d know, either way. “It’s... harder now,” she said very quietly, lowering her eyes. “I think about all the people I’ve hurt, all of the other soldiers, and I... I can’t call the fire. I can’t do it.”

She could feel his gaze burning on her skin, and fought down the fear. What if he told her to leave, that he didn’t want her anymore? Him being angry, she might be able to take that, but if he dismissed her... he was the only thing standing between her and a very large, angry world.

She heard him stand, then, and kept her eyes modestly cast down as he approached her. “Oh, Terra,” he said quietly, and he felt his cool hands on her bare shoulders. “Have you weakened, my little firebug? Tell me, have I asked too much of you?”

“No, sir,” she said automatically.

“Of course I haven’t.” One hand moved from her shoulder to her face, cradling it. “You’ve barely scratched the surface of your strength, and yet you say you can’t go on? Oh, Terra, the problem isn’t here at all.” He tapped her forehead twice with one long finger, then moved on to jab one long nail into the silk stretched over her chest. “This is always where weakness begins.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said. “I didn’t want to -“

“Hush, Terra. I’m thinking.” He clucked his tongue as he tapped his finger against her chest again, and she froze. “Now, my dear, I know you’re capable of a great deal more than you’ve shown me. I’d wondered if you were holding back, but you’d never hold anything back from me, would you?”

“No, sir,” she said again. “I never have.”

“And you never will.” He giggled again. “But what you say now, that makes far more sense. It’s that heart of yours that’s holding you back, and that’ll never do. You can’t give me things you can’t reach.”

She shook her head. Her eyes were watering; she did her best to hold the tears back. He didn’t like tears, he’d said, not on her face. Tears were for lesser beings. “What should I do, sir?” she asked instead.

“What you always do, Terra. Listen to me.” He reached back and snatched up the paper he’d been studied, pointing at the odd diagram. “Some of Cid’s men made this to my specification just a few days ago. I had to make sure that the old man didn’t interfere, of course. He wouldn’t have appreciated the brilliance of my little side project.”

She stared at it, not understanding the arrows and boxes and squiggles on the paper. She’d never seen anything like it before. “What is it, sir?” she finally asked.

“The details aren’t important,” he said, tossing it aside. “What matters is what it does. Tell me, Terra.” He lifted her chin, so that she could look into his eyes. “This could take the weakness away, make it so that you’d never doubt what I had you do. You’d be so much more powerful, because it wouldn’t hurt anymore. Would you like that?”

She gasped. “I... yes, sir,” she said. It felt too good to be true, but... he wouldn’t lie to her, would he? He’d always been so attentive, when no one else would even look at her.

“Well, then. I’ll have to find someone to put this together as soon as I can!” He leaned in and stole a quick kiss from her before turning away, finding the paper that he’d flung to the side. “We’ll try to have this finished in three days’ time, and then you can help me test it, hm?”

“Yes, sir!” she said quickly. Then, “Does that mean that I don’t -“

“Yes, yes, you don’t have to train for the next few days.” He waved the concern away like so much smoke. “You’ll be the better for it when we finish this, anyway. Go back and get some rest, hmm?

“Oh, thank you,” she said softly. “Thank you so much!” She paused, then realized what she’d forgotten. “Sir.”

“Now, now. Save that for later,” he said, laughing. “And do make sure you’re still wearing that dress when I come home. You know I love it so.” Then he shook his head, and waggled a finger at her. “Now, go!”

She didn’t stay a minute longer, and the stares from the other soldiers didn’t bother her as she almost ran back to her chambers. He’d listened to her, and now he was going to make things easier for her. It was more than she could’ve possibly hoped for, and she couldn’t imagine how she could possibly repay him. Maybe, if he didn’t return to his rooms too early, she could think of something that might almost be enough.