Steel Lily

by robboya (Robboyu)

Summary:

"She was so different from everyone else he’d met in Midgar—a flower that bloomed from rubble, peace and tranquility."

***

A chance meeting between a princess and a knight, and the adventure that blossoms from their bond.

Notes:

this is my first long series in forever omg im so excited! I'll try to update once per week but they will likely get more random once I start school, so please keep that in mind. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: A Chance Meeting in The Labyrinth

Trumpets disrupted the symphony of the nightingales, and Cloud knew it was almost time to go. The birds, startled by the sudden noise, fled their nests towards the edge of the imperial capital, while those who enjoyed the luxuries of the extremities within Midgar flooded inside. He could already see representatives from each of the Five Duchies wandering the gardens—if they could even be called that. There was no real plant life in this place, only imitations that looked and smelled close to the real thing. 

The only impressive part—or, more precisely, the only real part—of the gardens was the Faremis Labyrinth, a monument of hedges that has stood tall and proud since the old dynasty of emperors. Cloud had wandered through it many times, “part of his training,” as he called it, he knew every twist and turn and every shortcut others were too preoccupied to find. Lavish guests were pouring inside the castle, warm light poured out of the windows to the ballroom, and grandiose music poured from the balconies. All of which were hints for Cloud to join in all the pouring in too, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to give the labyrinth one more shot before he left to fulfill his duty.

The hedges were styled into the shape of a lily, the symbol of the Faremis Dynasty, with a few other twists and turns to make it a little more complicated. Apparently, it used to be a simple, fun activity guests of the imperial family could enjoy, and there would always be someone to help them should they get lost. But Shinra, in typical Shinra fashion, turned it into a challenge: they surrounded the lily with hedges—which, unlike the Faremis ones, were not natural to the land and had to be imported from the Grasslands—that formed their own symbol, with so many dead-ends that if someone were to get lost in it, the only way to find them would be through an aerial view of the labyrinth. “Only the most intelligent individuals may pass” said a sign at the entrance, and so far very few people had made it out without needing any rescue. Cloud being one of said few, of course.

He marched in with the confidence and grace of a SOLDIER, the ranks of which he would surely be joining in the morrow. All that effort he had put for the past five years wouldn’t be for nothing, his days as a horribly mistreated squire would all be worth it. He had reached knighthood faster than most, his feats in battle had been acknowledged by those of higher station than him (except for the Emperor), he was friends with a prince for god’s sake, all of that had to mean something. 

Footsteps snapped him out of his automated trance, a quiet and gentle voice resonating in his ear. He reached for the blade secured on his left hip as he approached the sound, putting his hand on the cross-guard in case he needed to fight. 

His worries were somewhat quenched, however, when he turned the corner and found the back of a woman wearing a long, white, silk dress. She was staring pensively at the dead-end before her, murmuring to herself something he couldn’t quite understand. Given the quality of her dress, as well as her carefully tended-to chestnut curls that flowed seamlessly down her back, he was left to assume she must be a noble lady who got herself lost while trying to take on the challenge. At least, that’s what he initially thought, were it not for the fact that after a second glance he realized her dress wasn’t simply a dress: she was in a nightgown. And no noblewoman with even an ounce of pride would wander the castle’s gardens in her pajamas. 

Suppressing the blush that was threatening to creep up his neck, Cloud approached her, hand still on his sword, “Excuse me?”

She flinched, her murmurs interrupted by a squeal, and whipped her head around to face him. Brilliant, forest green eyes met his cerulean ones; They were wide as they stared back at him, red lips parted as if she had just been caught doing something she shouldn’t. Yeah, definitely not a noblewoman. She was certainly pretty enough to be one, though; he couldn’t stop staring at her impressive eyes, like whirlpools that kept drawing him in and made him forget what he was here for in the first place. He had never seen eyes that were such a bright shade of green, were they on anyone else he might find them intimidating, but hers held a certain softness to them he had never seen on another person, they illuminated her other equally beautiful features.

A slight shift in her expression: surprise to confusion, if a bit of concern, and that’s when he finally realized that he had been staring at her without saying anything for longer than was socially acceptable. Get it together, man, he thought to himself, clearing his throat while straightening his back. “Are you lost?” He asked the woman, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

She looked at him, then at the hedges, then back at him, a small smile forming on her lips. “I…might be,” she said, her voice a melody that soothed his soul. “It’s been a while since I last traversed this place. They’ve, uh, switched it up quite a bit, haven’t they?”

Cloud raised a brow at that. It’d been nigh on two decades since the Faremis Dynasty, and, according to older knights in the ranks, Shinra changed the labyrinth not soon after the Emperor died. This woman looked about his age, maybe a little older. Assuming what she said was even true, just how long had it been since she’s last been through here?

She didn’t seem like much of a threat, but he figured he should still be weary. “Want me to guide you back?” He asked, “The prince’s birthday party is about to start, you probably don’t wanna be late, the head maid might scold ya.”

A flash of confusion crossed her face, gone so fast he would’ve missed it if he weren’t so drawn to her eyes, before being swiftly replaced by amusement. “Well, if you insist,” she grinned as she walked up to him, the wind carrying the smell of lilies up to his nostrils. Strange, there weren’t any lilies in the gardens. She was closer to him than was, again, socially acceptable for a knight and a young lady, but if he was being honest, a part of him almost didn’t mind. “Lead the way!”

His cheeks turned red and he forced himself to look away from her tantalizing eyes. “Follow me,” he said as he turned around, marching back to the entrance of the labyrinth since that was the closest exit relative to their current location, “It’s easy to get lost in this place, so stay close.” 

“Oooo, so cool,” she said dreamily, though there was a hint of sarcasm to her tone.

He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips, then he puffed his chest out. “Even making one wrong turn because you weren’t paying attention could get you lost for days.”

“Is that so?” The woman said, humming, “You seem like you know this place pretty well, does that mean you’ve gotten lost for several days?”

“W-What?!” He stopped in his tracks and faced her, bewildered. She looked back at him innocently, as if she hadn’t just implied that he was an idiot. Which he wasn’t. “N-No, I haven’t gotten lost, I just… have had to turn back a couple of times, that’s all.”

“Riiight,” she said. She dutifully fell into step behind him as they settled into silence, and the smell of lilies just wouldn’t go away. It was a rather pleasing smell, so he didn’t mind it too much, but the mystery of just where it was coming from was making him go insane. “So, Mr…”

“Cloud.”

“No last name?”

“...Strife.”

She beamed. “So Cloud Strife, are you a knight?”

He pointed at the medallion shaped into the Shinra emblem that secured his blue cape around his shoulders. “Figured that was obvious.”

“It is, but I didn’t want to assume.” She stared at him pointedly as she said that, he had no idea why though. When he didn’t say anything, she continued, “I’ve heard you have to beat this labyrinth in order to join the ranks, is that why you know it so well?”

“Not really,” he said, then quickly clarified, “I mean, you don’t have to beat the labyrinth in order to join the knights. I just do it because it’s fun.”

“You think it’s fun to constantly get lost?”

“I told you I haven’t gotten lost, I just-” He coughed upon seeing her smirk, realizing she was purposefully trying to rile him up, “It’s meant to be a challenge, so I treat it as one, and that’s what’s fun for me.”

“It didn’t use to be a challenge though,” she said, her tone growing melancholy. 

He didn’t like that for some reason. “So I’ve heard, but there’s not exactly anything we can do about it now.”

“Maybe,” she murmured. They emerged from the labyrinth, and he noticed the line of nobles by the front doors to the castle had gotten significantly shorter. Shit. “Oh! We’re out!”

…He could afford a couple more minutes. “What? Thought I was lying?” He smirked.

“I didn’t say that,” she huffed, putting her hands on her hips, “I might’ve thought it, sure, but I didn’t say it.”

“That’s what I just said,” he smiled, genuinely to his own surprise. He didn’t know why, but he felt the need to ask, “So, you know your way back from here?”

“In theory, yeah,” she said, her brows furrowing as she looked around the gardens. “It’s pretty dark, though,” she added quietly, clearly not intending for him to hear it but he had grown used to the sound of her voice, “Anyway, thanks for guiding me out, I’ll be on my way.”

Before he could give it a second thought, he blurted out: “Want me to go with you?” and silently cringed at himself. What the hell was he doing? Why was he wasting time? Why was he willingly spending more time with this lady?!

She tilted her head and pointed at the ballroom. “Are you sure? Don’t you have to be up there right now?” 

“It’s fine,” he lied, “my shift doesn’t start until halfway through the party, anyway.”

Her smile somehow made the scolding he would surely get later worth it. “Okay then, thanks!” Out of nowhere, she leaned forward and grabbed his hand, then started pulling him towards the castle. “C’mon, the servants’ quarters are this way!”

He didn’t get a chance to protest before she started guiding him away from the labyrinth. Not like he could complain, he offered to accompany her, not to guide her after all. He looked at her hand, which securely held onto his, and really started to question her identity again. It looked too dainty to be a maid’s, her skin was smooth and tan with no visible blemishes or calluses. A secretary, maybe? But secretaries didn’t reside in the servants’ quarters, they got the nicer rooms within the castle itself. Again the thought of her being a noblewoman rose in his head—she really looked way too put together to be a simple servant—but again again, what noblewoman in their right mind would go out in a nightgown?!

“We’re here!” He heard her say, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Oh,” he mused as he looked from her to the door that stood before them. They had indeed reached the servants’ quarters, maybe he was being too judgemental. “That was fast.”

“Yeah,” she grinned and let go of his hand, and he quickly expunged the feeling that something was missing from his hand as soon as it came. She turned to him and gave him a playful wink, “I know a few shortcuts of my own.”

“Happen to know any to get to the ballroom fast?” He asked, joking for the most part.

Still, she pensively put a finger up to her chin. “You’re better off going through the kitchen: there’s stairs that lead almost directly to the ballroom there since, well, y’know, they gotta keep the food fresh and stuff. Talk to one of the chefs there and tell them Ronna sent you, they’ll let you in.”

He raised a brow. “Ronna?”

She giggled. “Let’s just say I’m pretty well known around these parts.”

Alright, maybe she wasn’t just an ordinary maid. And then it clicked: she must be a lady-in-waiting of the princess! It would explain why she knew where the servants’ quarters were, say if she needed to speak with a maid regarding something to do with the princess; it would also explain her finer clothes and tidy appearance, since ladies-in-waiting were usually noblewomen. Still didn’t quite explain the going out in pajamas, but maybe she just wanted to let loose for a while?

Didn’t matter. “Gotcha, thanks,” he said. 

“Before you go,” she said, then reached for something in the pocket of her dress. He realized just then that he had let go of his sword at some point, and frankly he didn’t see the need to hold it anymore. His eyes went wide when she pulled out a fresh, yellow lily, with petals that showed no sign of wrinkles or withering despite having been in her pocket for who knows how long. So that was where the smell was coming from.

She held it up to him, her smile warm as the summer sun, “Here, this is for you.”

“But that’s-”

“I know, I know, just think of it as a memento,” she smiled, “And as a thank you, of course. I’m sure someone who can navigate a labyrinth like it’s nothing can find a hiding spot for a flower.” As if she could read his thoughts, she added, “And you can’t throw it away either!”

“I wasn’t going to.” And he meant that, even if the thought did cross his mind for a second. 

“Good!” She approached him, slipping the flower underneath his left suspender and covering it with his cape. “I’ll just leave it there for now.” 

He watched her as she walked up to the door and opened it, letting out the hectic clamoring of servants within the building as they prepared for the party. Somebody screamed, and he almost marched inside, before Ronna put a hand up to stop him in his tracks while shushing whoever was there. She faced him again, still smiling but looking a little frazzled, and said, “It was nice meeting you, Cloud.”

They were already saying goodbye? So suddenly? At least, that's what he wanted to say, but he had finished his objective. He just… didn’t expect it to be over so soon, he supposed. 

Then, she added, “Let’s meet again soon, ‘kay?”

His eyes widened. “Yeah,” he nodded, trying to act like his heart wasn’t hammering against his chest over the idea of seeing her again. He doubted it would happen, though: Once he became a SOLDIER (which he would), he would be joining the knights of the Valentine Duchy, just like most SOLDIERs did, and it was an entire continent away.

She gave him one last grin before going inside and shutting the door behind her, leaving him all on his lonesome. A sigh he didn’t know had been within him forced itself out of his lungs, and as he inhaled again, clarity came in: he was so late. 

Thankfully for him, the kitchen wasn’t too far from his current location, a very quick sprint had him there in no time. He opened the back door, once again met by the same amount of chaos that was within the servant’s quarters, and approached the head chef—he had come to know her after several thieves tried to sneak in and steal food—and told her what Ronna told him to say. She eyed him wearily, and for a moment he wondered if he had been duped. Then she pointed at a double-set door in the back corner of the room and got back to screaming orders at her staff. 

It was like Ronna said, the stairs led to the servant’s hallway to the ballroom, which was the one he was supposed to take in the first place. He could already hear people laughing and screaming and flaunting their wealth, which made him have to hold back a groan. Tonight was not going to be fun. 

The ballroom was as grandiose, expensive, and extravagant as Shinra could make it. The room itself was shaped into a circle, with the roof being a glass dome that gave a wonderful view of the stars; ionic marble pillars, wrapped with fine gold ribbons for the party, supported the structure around the perimeter of the room. Gold curtains hid entrances to balconies, and on the opposite end were two massive sets of stairs that emerged from opposite sides, then converged into one in the middle, all draped with a pristine blue carpet. Ivory statues of the Emperor and the prince stood at either end of the staircase, sculpted and painted to their exact likeness. Tall candlesticks were decorated with golden beads and more gold ribbon around the shafts, and the singular, crystal chandelier hanging from the dome not only had all of those things, but more blue ribbon as well. 

Honestly, it made him sick. Being around all these tight-assed nobles was going to be excruciating, but it’s not like he had much of a choice. He stuck to one of the darker corners of the room so that, ideally, no one would try to approach him. Not that anyone usually approached knights on duty unless they needed help—so, to be more precise, he was hiding from someone. And he hoped it worked.

Eventually, the herald announced the entrance of His Majesty and His Highness, Emperor Shinra and his son, Rufus. They emerged from the right staircase, descending in sync with all the might and elegance in the world. Their clothing reflected that; they wore high quality fabrics and fur that would cost Cloud a year’s worth of salary. 

They stopped at the beginning of the single staircase, facing the crowd as it erupted with applause. Emperor Shinra opened his arms out to the public, as if welcoming them in an embrace, “Thank you, one and all, for attending my son’s birthday party…”

Cloud tuned out the rest of the speech. Judging by the reactions, the Emperor was probably talking about some new plan to make enhance the capabilities magiarmor and further fortify the capital, transforming it into a military might that would expand its power to the rest of the world to make it a better place. In other words, the same speech he made at nearly every event he went to or hosted. And somehow the nobles fell for it every. Single. Time. It was a miracle he didn’t have tinnitus with how loud they cheered and clapped.

“I sincerely hope you all enjoy the festivities,” Emperor Shinra said and walked down the rest of the stairs, Rufus one step behind.

The herald cleared his throat. “Announcing: Prince Zack Fair of Gongaga—”

Ah shit. That’s exactly who Cloud was hiding from. He hoped and prayed he chose his hiding spot wisely.

“—And Princess Aerith Faremis of Midgar!”

Cloud’s eyebrows shot up at that. The princess? She rarely made public appearances outside of her pilgrimages due to poor health, this would be his first time seeing her. She was the sole survivor of the tragedy that took her parents (he didn’t know the exact details, but he’s heard it was a carriage accident) and the rightful heir to the throne.

With how much he showed off his wealth and power, it was easy to forget that Emperor Shinra’s “reign” was merely a regency. The princess was too young to inherit the throne when the accident took place, just barely turned seven, so the regency was given to the Emperor Gast's nearest family: the Shinra Duchy, his cousins. Once the princess came of age, she would inherit the throne and become emperor, restoring the Faremis Dynasty. 

He doubted that would happen, though. No offense to the princess, but there was no way Shinra would hand over the throne that easily, not after all he’s done to the empire. Midgar used to be peaceful when Emperor Gast ruled, there were no wars, sieges, or burnt-down villages, just simple people living simple lives at their own pace. When Shinra took over, everything moved so fast and so chaotically that people found it hard to accustom to it, leading to the vast expansion of the Empire of Midgar from just the Eastern Continent to the, at the time, under-developed Western Continent. The bastard was hungry for power, and he’d have through any means necessary. 

Which was probably why the princess was engaged to Zack, prince of Gongaga—one of the few remaining nations in the Western Continent that wasn’t under direct Midgar control—and, in some ways unfortunately, his best friend. But that wasn’t what was important right now; no, another, much more interesting thought had occupied his mind: if the princess was here, did that mean that, perhaps, Ronna would be too? Maybe that was what she meant when she said they should meet again soon. 

It was hard to keep himself from scanning the crowd in search of green; he still had a duty to fulfill, so he kept his eyes on Zack as he and the princess emerged from the left staircase. Seeing him dressed so lavishly always threw Cloud for a loop, he was so used to seeing Zack in tunics and magiarmor when they trained together that he often forgot he was royalty. Didn’t help that he didn’t exactly act like a prince either. Cloud couldn’t see the princess, but he assumed she was being hidden from sight thanks to Zack’s tall stature.

He was curious about her, if he was being honest. People said she was a beautiful, kind soul, and the only bit of grace Midgar had left. Others said she was a stuck-up brat who didn’t care about the suffering of her citizens and enjoyed a life of luxury under the protection of Shinra, and had no real interest in restoring her father’s throne. Personally, he was leaning towards the latter opinion. Regardless, he was much more interested in her lady-in-waiting than the princess herself. For some strange reason that he couldn’t fathom at the moment. 

The pair arrived at the joined staircase and faced the crowd, and the crowd around Cloud suddenly grew quiet. Zack’s eyes met his immediately—which didn’t come as much of a surprise, the guy had always been suspiciously good at finding Cloud amongst crowds—and he smiled at him, then turned towards the crowd to address the obvious, Cloud assumed: the princess wasn’t there.

“Good evening, my friends,” Zack began, again with a formality Cloud wasn’t accustomed to, “Unfortunately, the princess will be unable to join us today due to a sudden fever. She sends her regards, and wishes for all to enjoy the festivities.”

Murmurs swept through the floor, rumors already reaching his ears. Nobles really loved their gossip, especially if the situation gave them the perfect excuse to bad-mouth a Faremis. Cloud could only roll his eyes, unsurprised by both the nobles’ reactions and princess' lack of attendance. The latter did leave him a bit disappointed though, and it wasn’t because he didn’t get to see her.

“Cloud!” Right. He almost forgot. A hard, heavy arm wrapped around his shoulders, engulfing him in a side hug, and he had to look up to see his attacker. “How ya been, buddy?”

This was the Zack he was used to. Laid back, cheerful, and really doesn’t give a damn about what others thought of him. “Good evening, Your Highness,” Cloud said, moving away and giving him a small bow, “I have been well, thank you for asking. I sincerely hope you enjoy your evening.”

Zack stared at him, an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. With fake sadness, he said, “Really? Is this what all our years of friendship have amounted to? Formality?! I’m hurt, Cloud, truly hurt.”

Cloud held back a groan and whispered through gritted teeth, “There’s too many people staring at us for me to drop the act, dipshit.”

Zack’s stupid grin only infuriated him more. “Well why didn’t’cha say so! Whew, you had me worried for a second there, thought I was gonna have to revoke the friendship card.”

Cloud rolled his eyes. “So, is the princess really sick or did you get dumped?”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny,” Zack said, unamused. He sighed as he put his hands on his hips, shaking his head, “Aerith’s always been pretty frail, she gets sick from anything and everything. One of the maids told me she snuck in the gardens and caught herself a cold, last minute, too! I was literally standing outside the door to the staircase, waiting for her and…”

Cloud tuned out. The princess went to the gardens? But he hadn’t seen anyone that might resemble her. Well, it’s not like had ever seen her to be able to recognize her anyway, but still, he was fairly sure he would be able to distinguish a princess from a common person. There was one person he met that might fit the description, but there was no way she was her. Plus, she had given him her name, and it wasn’t Aerith, so it couldn’t possibly be her. And speaking of, even if the princess hadn’t attended the party, that didn’t mean her lady-in-waiting couldn’t come, right?

Zack went on to rant about something Cloud wasn’t fully paying attention to, he was too preoccupied searching the crowd for any hint of forest green.

 

Chapter 2: Budding Knight

Faint rays of sunlight descended on his eyelids, blinking him awake. He sat up slowly, reaching for the mug of water he always kept on the night table beside his bed without looking. When he went to take a sip, however, something soft and delicate touched his nose, nothing like the ceramic of the mug. He rubbed his eyes, his vision partially blurry from having just woken up, and looked at the mysterious object, and what did he find if not a lily.

And suddenly everything from the previous night flooded back into his brain, and with it came shame and embarrassment directed at himself. Whatever possessed him to act the way he did last night, he had no idea what it was, and he didn’t have time to mull over it either. Today was the day he would finally become a SOLDIER. 

He put the mug down—more like slammed it down and subsequently spilled some of the water that was inside, which he cleaned up with his blanket—and walked to the chest in the corner of his small room. It contained all of his belongings, except for his sword of course, and he got to work putting on his uniform. A black tunic with matching black trousers, brown leathers around his waist, a chestguard and suspenders—as well as boots and gloves. Putting on the metal arm guards was a bit tricky, usually it was the job of a squire to help a knight put their armor on, but Cloud had always been uncomfortable with the idea so he never accepted one despite being offered. Still, he eventually managed to buckle them on, along with shoulder armor and knee and shin guards. Finally was his azure cape, which he wrapped around his shoulders and clipped it with his Shinra medallion. 

After strapping his sword across his hip, he took a glance at Ronna’s flower. The petals were still bright yellow and silky smooth as the previous night; the time it spent without any sort of nutrition, buried beneath leather and fabric, hadn’t seemed to affect it at all.

“One sturdy flower,” Cloud murmured to himself, then marched out the door and to the stairs at the end of the hallway that led to the bar downstairs.

***

“Morning, Cloud.” 

He took a casual glance at the counter as he descended the last step, finding Tifa’s ruby eyes already looking at him with a warm smile adorning her face. She was his fellow knight (to be, technically she was still a squire); owner of this bar, Seventh Heaven; a friend from his childhood; and one of the few other survivors of the Siege. She was as bright as she was early, wearing a yellow dress with a white apron, her hair tied back into a bun as she poured water into a glass, which she then slid over to him. “Excited for the promotions later?”

“Not really,” Cloud said nonchalantly, taking a seat in front of the counter.

Tifa raised a brow at him, still smiling, “Really? Is that why you got up super early, even though the ceremony isn’t until the evening and it’s our day off?”

“I could say the same thing to you,” Cloud snapped back, pouting.

“At least I’m not in my uniform,” Tifa teased as she turned her back towards him, and Cloud rolled his eyes. She came back with a small loaf of bread on a plate, a knife, and a jar of orange marmalade. “So… did you get to meet the princess yesterday?”

“Nope, she was a no-show.”

“Really? Did something happen?” She spoke with her usual calm tone of voice, but he could see a hint of worry on her brow.

“Zack said she canceled last minute,” he swiped some of the marmalade on the loaf and took a bite, “‘Cause she had a fever.”

“I see, I hope she’s feeling better,” Tifa sighed. The front doors to the bar swung open, momentarily blinding them with the early morning sun as a tall, sturdy man whose body was covered by a cloak walked in, accompanied by a little girl he carried on his left arm. The man shot Cloud a look of weariness, which made him raise a brow, before heading to one of the tables near the bar’s piano, the child in his arms giggling as she pointed at the instrument. 

“Welcome!” Tifa grinned at them as she walked to the side of the counter, opening the small door which allowed her to get to the other side. She walked up to Cloud and playfully hit him with the towel that was hanging from her apron, smiling as she said, “I’ll meet up with you later. You’re gonna be at the training grounds, right?”

Cloud stared at her wordlessly for a moment, unsure of what to say. That hadn’t exactly been his plan—well, he didn’t have much of a plan in the first place—but he supposed he could go back to the castle. Zack was probably going to be there, he always was whenever he came to visit (to avoid meetings, of course), and there was still a chance he would bump into Ronna again. 

But he really wanted to finish his breakfast.

“Yeah,” he nodded and placed ten gil on the counter, “Don’t be late.”

“I won’t,” Tifa winked, then walked past him to her new guests. The little girl looked really happy to see her; they must be regulars, Cloud figured. He himself tried to frequent the pub as often as possible, usually on days like today where he could take time off his duties. He wasn’t sure why, exactly—to support a friend, he supposed. But he and Tifa had never been all that close growing up; sure they talked every once in a while, but Cloud had always been the type to keep to himself, and others at arm’s length. It wasn’t until a year after the Siege that their relationship became a more friendly one, he had helped her join the ranks when she left the remains of Nibelheim and came to Midgar to “start anew,” as she had put it. More like she finally realized that there was nothing left for them back there. 

One step outside the bar and Cloud was hit by that putrid, almost humid, Outer Midgar stench. It almost made him glad Seventh Heaven was relatively close to the Outpost. He turned the corner and opened the door to the bar’s mini-stable, and was greeted by two overly excited chocobos. His was the closest to the door, dressed with fine armor on its head, legs, and chest, and blue fabric on its leather saddle. 

It “kweh”-ed happily when it spotted its owner, quickly leaning its head over the stall waiting for pets. Cloud chuckled and gently patted it on its neck with one hand while ruffling the feathers on its head with the other. “Hey there, Piko,” he said, “Let’s get out of here, we’ve got a long way to the castle.”

Outer Midgar was crowded by the common people, scrambling out of poorly-made homes and walking on worn cobblestone streets. Some glared at him as he trotted past, others pretended he didn’t exist at all. A couple children looked amazed and curious, some being so bold as to walk up to him—mainly to pet the chocobo, they were a rarity in these parts—before being pulled away by their parents. 

All he had to do when he got to the outpost tower was show the watchman his medallion and the order was given to raise the gate. The homeless that called the Plate their home flinched at the vibrations of the stone wall as the metal door rose. They took glances at the world they couldn’t reach, at a world without stench. Cloud carried on once the gate was fully up without sparing them a glance.

What Outer folk didn’t realize was that Inner Midgar smelled just the same, if not worse. Exotic flowers, freshly-made laundry, expensive perfumes, and the underlying hint of rotten eggs and dirt. An illusion of perfection most nobles refused to acknowledge. 

The castle laid in the very middle of the capital, the jewel of the capital, made of the finest whitestones around. Once again he showed his medallion to the guards at the gate and he was let inside, receiving greetings as he trotted past. First he went to the stable that was past the gardens, a shabby brick building compared to the rest of the castle, and dropped Piko off with Billy, the stablehand there. 

The training grounds—a walled-off green area connected to the main castle—weren’t too far, thankfully. It took no time at all to navigate his way there, once he opened the doors to the small courtyard he was met by the usual sounds of clashing metal, the firing of arrows, the smell of hay, and—

“Cloud! Over here!” 

Zack.

He was sitting on a hay bale, rid of all the fancy clothing with his hair wild in the wind. He was shirtless at the moment, though his tunic and cape were right beside him on the hay, and wore pants and boots that matched Cloud’s. His squire sat next to him on a wooden chair, tending to one of Zack’s magiarmor arms with so much focus Cloud doubted the boy could even see anything other than the arm.

As Cloud approached, Zack hissed, “Ow!”

The squire immediately stopped what he was doing and put the rag he had been using down, “I-I’m so sorry, Sir! I didn’t mean-”

“I’m just messing with ya, kid,” Zack grinned, ruffling the young boy’s hair, “Go and take a break, I’ll see ya at the ceremony.”

The boy nodded and scurried away, just as Cloud arrived. “You should be more careful with that arm, you could’ve bashed that kid’s head in,” he advised, taking a seat where the boy had previously been.

“C’mon now, I think I’ve had these things on long enough to know how to manage ‘em,” the prince said, stretching his arms above his head. 

At a glance they looked like regular arms; they had the same physique, same defined muscles, same function. But his arms had no flesh, they were made of gray, steel plates welded and hinged together up to his shoulders and down to his fingertips, with emerald gemstones decorating the knuckles. Beneath the plates was an intricate mechanism of wires full of mako energy that Cloud mostly could not see, save for the ones that peeked out around the shoulder, where they dug morbidly into Zack’s skin.

Cloud couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at the sight. “Does it really not hurt?”

“What, these things?” Zack asked and twisted his arms, “They knock ya out for the surgery so no, not really. Might be sore for a couple days after but the mako meridians help numb it. Why? Are ya scaaaared?”

“N-No,” Cloud coughed, straightening his back, “Just curious, that’s all.”

“Mm-hm,” Zack teased, that annoying grin still on his face. “By the way, where’s Tifa?”

“She’ll be here later, she’s got some customers she’s gotta tend to.”

“I see. Makes you wonder how she’ll manage the bar once she gets promoted.”

“Probably by only keeping it open at night.” Cloud looked at the blue sky above him, shielding his eyes from the blaring sun. It was probably around noon by then, the ceremony was in just a couple hours, and he needed a way to get the giddiness within him out. 

“So, ya wanna train together till the ceremony starts?” Zack offered as he slipped his tunic back on.

Sometimes, and only sometimes, Zack knew exactly what to say. “Sure,” Cloud nodded, just as something smacked him square in the face, “What the-!?” He removed the mysterious object from his nose, only to find it was an oak leaf that had decided to attack him out of nowhere. Its bright green color reminded him of a certain someone, and a strange emptiness settled in his chest. 

Maybe, he thought, Maybe I should go look for her. Say goodbye.

“Cloud, did that leaf give you a concussion or something? C’mon!” Zack was already waiting for him in the field, sword lazily slung over his shoulder. 

Oh god, Cloud was going to get teased to hell for this. “Hey, you know all of the castle’s staff, right?” He asked his friend as he approached, unsheathing his sword.

“I try to be friendly with ‘em, since, y’know, I’m engaged to the princess and stuff. Why do you ask?”

“Do you happen to know someone named Ronna?”

Zack nearly dropped his sword, which made Cloud raise a brow. “I, uh… I might. She’s… one of the kitchen maids, right?”

“Seemed like it,” Cloud said, still suspicious of Zack’s reaction, but he carried on, “I met her yesterday before the ball while I was making my rounds in the garden. Brown hair, green eyes. Ring any bells?”

Zack took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Oh yeah, I definitely know her. Listen Cloud—” he pointed his sword at his friend, “—You’ve really gotta start thinking a little harder.”

“What the— The hell’s that supposed to mean?!” 

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

***

“Tifa Lockhart.”

She marched up to the stage and kneeled before Duke Heidegger. He used to be Knight Commander during the Faremis rule, and was given a duchy in Junon after Shinra’s ascension to the throne. Despite not having much to do with the castle’s knights anymore, he still came to every promotion ceremony to act high and mighty and give orders he had no right to give. 

Cloud watched as Tifa performed the same vows he had two years prior; she was then given three things: a cape and medallion that matched those of official knights, and a sword that had been specialized to her abilities. Except for the fact no sword could possibly be suited to her abilities—she had a mean punch, meaner than any current knight, hence why an “extra” pair of leather gloves with sharp, metal knuckles were placed on top of the neatly folded cape in her hands.

She walked back to her spot beside him, surrounded by cheers and applause. But she paid no mind to them as she stared intensely at her new uniform, emotions Cloud was all too familiar with reflecting on her eyes. Anger. Resentment. Guilt. Betrayal. Pride. He’d gone through the same thing when he first became a knight, the same self-hatred and bitterness that he could see so clearly in her brow. No one in their right mind would willingly become a follower of the very people that destroyed their lives, but it’s not like they had much of a choice. 

“Hey,” Zack, who stood on her other side, lightly poked her arm to get her attention. He gave her one of his signature smiles and a thumbs-up, “Nice job!”

“Huh?” She looked back at him, wide-eyed, then at the cape, then at Cloud—he nodded in agreement—then back at the cape, then at Zack one last time before going back to the cape, a light blush dusting her cheeks, “O-Oh! Thanks. All that work feels kinda worth it now.”

“Hell yeah! You better be proud of yourself! Now, you’ll get your own squire, and—”

“I will now announce the SOLDIER candidates. If, after I’ve read all names, you’d like to commit yourself to the cause, please step to the stage,” Duke Heidegger announced, his voice resonating within the enclosed chambers of the training grounds.

Tifa and Zack both looked at Cloud, who’s stance suddenly straightened at the mention of SOLDIER. His heart was racing as Heidegger read off each name from the list, hands balled into fists to keep them from fidgeting. The anticipation was killing him; finally, everything he had done for the past five years, all the suffering, turmoil, and exhaustion would finally pay off.

Heiddeger began to read, “Cloud…” and the knight felt his heart stop when the duke paused, staring at the paper in his hand with a raised brow. He was the only person named Cloud in the entire army as far as he was aware, why did the duke stop? 

“Hojo,” the duke groaned, turning to the man standing beside him, “This one’s yours.”

Cloud looked at him, and though his eyes were hidden behind dark spectacles, he could tell the old doctor was already looking at him. “Cloud Strife,” he said, his voice sending shivers down Cloud’s spine, “Come with me.”

The doctor walked down the stairs off the stage, waving a hand for Cloud to follow behind him. Cloud looked at Tifa and Zack, as if they had answers, but both of them looked just as clueless as he did. Hojo was once the duke of the Valentine Duchy, but he retired from the role not long ago and passed it down to a relative. Now, he served the imperial family directly as the Head Imperial Doctor, he saw to their every medical need and rarely ever came to the knights’ area.

Except, of course, when he wanted to observe his creation: magiarmor. Perhaps that was why Hojo wanted to see him, to use him as a test subject for a new variation of the tech, and frankly, Cloud didn’t know whether he should be excited or terrified. He had only come across the doctor a couple of times before, usually when he came to treat Zack, and in all those times never had he felt like he should be at ease with him around. 

Even now as he followed the doctor deeper into the castle, he wondered whether he should abandon all thoughts of becoming a SOLDIER and run as far away from this man as possible. Hojo was the one to break the tense silence between them, “You must be wondering why you’re here instead of being with the other candidates.”

Cloud swallowed. “I am, Your Grace.”

“Well, that would be because you were chosen to be a SOLDIER candidate,” Hojo explained. “However, after a rather sudden last minute decision, that will no longer be the case.”

His stomach dropped, but he tried not to let Hojo’s words get to him, “Why am I here then?”

Even his chuckle was unsettling. “You, my boy, are to become Her Highness’ personal knight, in other words: her bodyguard.”

“What?!” All that work… all that blood he spilled… all that blood he shed… all of those hours he spent tormenting and hating himself for joining the enemy, all those times he was unable to drag himself out of bed… all of that just to become a bodyguard? To a princess who barely went outside, no less?!

“You should be honored,” Hojo said, “The princess picked you personally.”

Cloud raised a brow at that. How would the princess know him? Maybe Zack had mentioned him in passing, but he doubted the prince said anything so great about him to warrant her wanting him as a bodyguard. He had several accomplishments, sure, but nothing so grand that would make him stand out from the crowd of other talented knights. So why? Why him?

“Since it’s quite late, I will only introduce you to her today. Your duties will officially begin tomorrow,” Hojo said, and only after looking at a passing window did Cloud realize that they were climbing up a tower. He had heard rumors that the princess slept in one of the tallest towers in the castle, and now that he was there, with only Hojo as his company, it felt pretty lonely. 

They eventually arrived at a double-set wooden door with gold lilies encrusted into them. The smell of flowers coming from within the room was soft and subtle, pleasant but not overwhelming, particularly the scent of lilies. It reminded him of her. 

Wait a minute.

Lilies were a rarity in Midgar, they couldn’t be grown on castle grounds or sold in any market. It’d make sense for Princess Aerith to be the only one allowed to have them, given her lineage. Did that mean that—

No, no, it was still possible she was just the princess’ lady-in-waiting and she had received the flower as a gift. But there was no sound coming from inside the room, which to him seemed odd, but perhaps the princess was simply resting.

“Your Highness,” Hojo said as he knocked on the door, “It is I, Doctor Hojo. I have come to introduce your new bodyguard.”

Cloud flinched when a disturbingly familiar voice from within answered, “Come in!”

Pink pastel curtains covered the windows that lined the opposite side of the wall, some drawn back to let in the dim light of sunset. Ceramic vases filled with various kinds of flowers stood on top of marble pedestals decorated the perimeters, save for where the lit hearth stood. In the middle of the sitting room were two white and gold sofas, facing each other with a tea table in the middle.

There was only one person in the room. She sat gracefully on one of the sofas, the white tulle of her dress bulging at her sides. Long brown curls had been tied back into an elegant bun, decorated with a rose ribbon, and a gold circlet adorned with small flowers that ran across her forehead; in the middle of those flowers were small, forest green gems. Gems the same color as her eyes, eyes that he had been looking for for what felt like an eternity.

She was beautiful. She looked so different from the “crazy pajama lady of the garden” yet exactly identical at the same time. Her red lips, the slight squint of her brilliant eyes as she smiled, even her movements, though more refined, were the same. 

Cloud felt like his heart was about to burst. From excitement or fear? He didn’t know, but it was definitely going to explode.

He stared at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, as she stood up; her lips curled into a smile as she slowly walked towards them, as if she knew what her presence—and title—were doing to Cloud. “You must be him,” she said, voice soft and delicate and definitely trying to tease him.

For a moment, Cloud forgot all about the etiquette he was taught to have when around royals other than Zack. All it took was a stern glare from Hojo to remind him, and he bent as far over his waist as possible, hoping it would somehow get rid of the red of his cheeks. “C-Cloud Strife of Nibelheim is at your service, Your Highness.”

“Please, you don’t have to bow so deeply. Rise,” she said, and so he did. He met her eyes, which looked at him with a certain fondness that made his knees feel weak. “It’s an honor to meet you, Sir Cloud. I’ve heard a lot about you, both from Prince Zack and in passing.”

Dammit, Zack. “I am the one who is honored, Your Highness.”

She giggled, which only made the red of his cheeks flare up more. “Let’s get along.”

“Of course,” he answered a little too quickly, but the room was suddenly really hot and he couldn’t think. “Your Highness.”

Aerith giggled again, and before she could say anything else, Hojo said, “Well, let us call it a night for today.”

“So soon?” Aerith asked. “I was hoping to speak with my knight a little longer.”

Cloud wasn’t sure why, but her words made his stomach flutter.

“Today was only to introduce the both of you,” Hojo nodded, “I still must explain his duties to him. He will officially begin working as your bodyguard in the morning.”

“Very well,” she looked at Cloud again—and he might’ve imagined it, but he could’ve sworn her smile grew—and elegantly waved, “I’ll see tomorrow then, Sir Cloud.”

Cloud swallowed hard, finding that his vocal chords suddenly didn’t want to work. “G-Good night, Your Highness.”

He quickly walked back to the front door and opened it, allowing Hojo to exit the room first before he followed suit.

“Now,” Hojo began, “I will explain your duties to you. The most important is that, at the end of every day, you report to me the princess’ activities, and…”

But Cloud wasn’t fully paying attention. As he closed the door, he took a peek—just one tiny peek—at the princess, just to verify that maybe it was the proximity that made her look like… her. She was already looking at him, and when their eyes met, she raised her index finger up to her lips and winked. Winked. 

Shit.

Cloud closed the door behind him.

Chapter 3: Flowers Blooming in Rubble

Cloud barely got any sleep that night. After a barrage of duties from Hojo and a second barrage of questions from Zack and Tifa after he got back, he was completely, utterly, and absolutely exhausted. Yet sleep evaded him, taunting him as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier, then snapped back with the force of a bowstring when he remembered the wink.

He was so fucked.

Honestly, what was he thinking? How in the world did he not recognize her?! There were two things he always heard about the princess: one: that she was kind, and two: that she had the brightest green eyes known to mankind. It should’ve been obvious—no servant would look that put together—if only he had thought a little more, surely he would’ve figured it out. 

A part of him didn’t want to get up and face his fate—which was almost guaranteed to be death—but if he didn’t get up, he would still likely face death as punishment for failing his duties. If he had to die, then he supposed he would prefer his death to be by the hands of a beautiful princess. 

And yet, said beautiful princess had also robbed him of his dream occupation, so perhaps there wasn’t a “better” option.

The barracks were already bustling with people by the time he left his quarters. Knights were shutting themselves in their rooms after their long, overnight shifts, and their replacements were lazily making their way to their stations. Normally, Cloud would’ve also been amongst those going to their morning shifts, were it not for his new job, and he suddenly missed the feeling of standing around in the castle’s halls for hours on end doing absolutely nothing.

He grabbed a loaf of bread from the dining hall, which was just as crowded as the halls were, full of people getting breakfast and dinner. After finishing his, he left to the training grounds and spent a couple hours practicing. Normally he’d do this in the evenings, when there were less people there with the same idea, but his new job carried into the evening, leaving him with virtually no spare time.

He went back to his room after he was done to refresh himself, and when he opened the door to leave, he was met by the bright blue eyes of his best friend, and he held back a groan.

“So, ready to bodyguard my fiancee?” Zack said, grinning widely as Cloud squeezed past him.

“I could do without the reminder, thanks,” Cloud said.

“Hey, you should consider yourself lucky! You get to spend your entire day with the prettiest girl in Midgar! Man, I wish I could do that.”

“And what’s stopping you, exactly? You are her fiance.”

“The fact that I am incredibly busy, of course!”

That was a partial lie, but frankly Cloud wasn’t in the mood to argue with him any further. They walked to the castle together, Zack going off on some rant while Cloud ignored him, until they reached the tower where the princess slept. 

“Looks like this is where we part ways,” Zack sighed. He turned to Cloud, his expression turning slightly more serious than usual, “Now listen, you know I’m leaving in a couple days, so you better take good care of her once I’m gone, okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Cloud said, too overcome by dread as he stared at the door to humor him.

“Good, I don't want my girl to be in any trouble while I’m gone.”

Cloud heard some maids that passed by them giggle. “Right. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to do.”

“Good luck!”

The climb up to the princess’ room was just as lonely as he remembered. Not a guard in sight, hardly any decor in a castle that was normally filled with riches. Not even a maid that was in the middle of tending to the princess’ needs. He found it odd that Shinra would willingly let the princess be so unguarded, seeing as how she was currently the biggest threat to his reign (in theory, at least). Perhaps he was just that confident the marriage between her and Zack would get her out of his hair. 

Whatever the case was, it didn’t matter to Cloud. What did matter was whether what awaited him past the lily doors was a dagger and death sentence. As he stood there, he wondered what, exactly, he should say. Pretend that night didn’t happen? Sit on his knees and beg for forgiveness? Die? Oh, how he wished he was lining up with the other SOLDIER candidates at that moment.

He stood there for what felt like hours contemplating his choices, hoping that eventually his brain would come up with something. His time was cut short, however, when one of the doors slowly creaked open, and a pair of green eyes appeared from the small crack between the doors. When they met his eyes, the princess poked the rest of her head out, and his mind went entirely blank. Zack really wasn’t kidding when he said she was the prettiest girl in Midgar. 

His heart skipped a beat when she smiled up at him, her voice teasing as she said, “So are you gonna stand there for another ten minutes are you gonna come in?”

Never had he wanted to crawl out of his skin more than at that very moment. “A-Apologies, Your Highness,” he stammered.

Aerith giggled, opening the door wider for him to pass, “C’mon in!”

“P-Please, you first,” he insisted.

She rolled her eyes and pulled him inside by the arm, which nearly made him trip. He stared back at her, eyes wide, as she closed the door behind them and faced him again. Her smile was probably hiding all the different torture methods she had planned out for his slow, painful death. 

“Nice to see you again,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back.

He had very few seconds to make his decision, and he figured maybe, just maybe, acting a little oblivious wouldn’t be so bad. “Yes, it was an honor to meet you yesterday, Your Highness,” he said.

She raised a brow, her smile turning into a bit of a sly smirk. Shit. “Yesterday, huh?” She walked towards him, leaning in far enough that he could smell the scent of lilies coming from her. “Just yesterday?”

Wrong choice. He swallowed hard: in any other situation, he might’ve kept the lie going, but this was a princess he was talking to. And he really didn’t feel like losing his head today. Putting his pride aside, he said, “About that, Your Highne—”

“First of all,” Aerith huffed, raising a finger up to stop him from talking, “You don’t have to say ‘Your Highness’ every other sentence, seriously it’s making me dizzy.”

“I apologize, Your—” he bit his lip, “Princess.”

“And there’s no need to be so formal either, but I guess I’ll take it for now. Second of all,  ” she raised a second finger, her smile turning a bit pitiful, “I’m not gonna kill you, Cloud.”

He blinked. “Pardon?! I didn’t— I wasn’t—!”

“It’s written all over your face,” She giggled. She walked past him, the skirts of her white and pink dress knocking against his legs, and sat on the sofa closest to him. “Killing people for no valid reason is Shinra’s style, not mine.”

“I think you have plenty of valid reasons,” he murmured, then quickly slapped his mouth shut.

“Hm?” Her turn to act oblivious.

“I-It’s nothing,” Cloud said, clearing his throat, “Regardless of… everything, I committed a grave sin by not recognizing you that day.” He bowed down deeply, reminiscent of the previous evening. “Please, accept my sincerest apologies.”

“You really don’t have to apologise, Cloud,” she said, “I had a lot of fun that day, it’s not often I get the chance to frolic around in the garden.” Carefully, he looked up and met her eyes, noticing a hint of melancholy in them before they returned to a more cheerful expression. “Buuuut if it’ll make you feel better, then okay, I forgive you.”

“Thank you, Your High— uh, Princess.”

Aerith giggled again, a sound he was beginning to enjoy. “I’ll get you to say my name one of these days, just you wait.”

A smile slipped past his mask of neutrality, and he found it hard to put it back on. He had no idea why, perhaps it was because a part of him found this whole ordeal amusing. The princess, she wasn’t what he was expecting. He had always leaned toward believing the rumors that she was a bit stuck-up, despite the fact that Zack almost always sang her praises. She was charming, if a bit quirky, but he supposed he should’ve expected no less from the “crazy pajama lady of the garden.” Honestly, it felt a little… refreshing, he supposed. 

But he would still rather be in the Valentine Duchy. 

He regained his composure—something he found surprisingly hard to do as he looked at her smile—and straightened his back. “If you do not mind me asking, Princess, what is on the agenda today?”

“Hmm.” She leaned her elbows on her knees, her chin resting on her palms. “Dunno.”

He blinked. “Uh, I apologize, does your lady-in-waiting—?”

“Don’t have one.”

“A secretary?”

“Don’t have one of those either.”

“Then… teachers?”

“Occasionally, but not today. I think.” She looked at the window, past the panes and to the wide, open, blue sky. “The Emperor doesn’t like the idea of me having any sort of leverage on him.”

The rebellious part of him wanted to judge her, tell her to grow a spine and do whatever she had to get the throne. The more logical side of him, however—and the scared witless part of him that had made its presence known mere moments ago—understood that, ultimately, she was at a disadvantage. Shinra could very easily get rid of her if he so wished; if she stepped out of line, her life could be stolen in the same breath. It was all about survival in Midgar, and whatever cards you had to play to ensure that you get to live another day were valid. 

It did make him curious, however, as to why Shinra hadn’t gotten rid of her yet. Not that he wanted her gone, even the thought made his chest ache strangely, but the Emperor was the kind of person to get whatever he wanted using whatever methods were necessary. Eliminating Aerith was the most sure-fire way to guarantee him and his son the throne, so why hadn’t he yet?

Whatever the reason was, it should be none of his business, the logical side of him said. And yet, watching Aerith gaze so longingly at the sky, his chest burned with inexplicable anger; it was not directed at her, however, more like… it was there for her.

He was thinking too much.

Aerith suddenly shot up off her seat, her smile blooming as she looked at Cloud, “I know what we can do!” She grabbed his hand with both of hers, startling him. “We can water all the flowers in the castle! There’s not that many, aside from the ones in this room, but since the castle’s so big, it’ll probably take us a while to finish. Perfect way to spend the day, right?”

Ignoring the burning in his cheeks, Cloud suddenly recalled the very specific instructions Doctor Hojo had given him the night before:

“Under no circumstances is the Princess allowed to leave her room for any reason other than an organized event, the Emperor’s or the Prince’s orders, or unless Prince Zack calls for her. If she wishes to exit the room for any reason other than the ones I’ve stated, do not let her leave.”

An odd set of rules, that’s for sure. Ones he should probably follow, if he valued his life. “I’m sorry, Princess, but—”

“Remember Ronna?” Her smile turned mischievous, “That’s the alias I use whenever I sneak out. Most people in the castle don’t know my—by which I mean ‘Princess Aerith’s’—face, so as long as we're careful, no one will recognize us! C’mon, it’ll be fun!” She let go of his hand (the touch of which he began to miss) and put a finger to her chin, looking him up and down, “Hm. We might have to do something about your get-up, though.”

He again ignored the way her gaze made him feel strangely tingly. He had two options now: follow the Princess’ orders or Hojo’s, the latter of which could get rid of him quite easily. Logically, going with Hojo’s was the obvious answer… but Aerith looked so excited, and he found it surprisingly hard to say no to her.

“...If we can find a spare cloak—”

“Oh, I have plenty!” 

She merrily skipped to the kitchenette in the corner of the room and opened one of the cabinets near it, fishing out two watering cans, one pink and one blue. She opened the faucet and started carefully pouring water into one of the cans. “We’ll start with the flowers in here, then…”

Her train of thought faded as her eyes drifted to the window, and when he followed them he happened upon a small, red cardinal outside, perched against the window frame. Aerith’s expression shifted—frustration?—before she turned to face Cloud, smiling casually, “Hey, Cloud, can you come over here and help me fill up these cans?”

“Of course,” he said dutifully, and made his way to her side.

He kept a respectable amount of distance as he picked up the pink watering can from the floor and guided it to the running water. It was filled up halfway when Aerith suddenly grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him close— too close, his heart rate skyrocketed—to her, the smile from before replaced by a small frown and pinched brows.

“Do you know who the Turks are?” She asked, her voice low and serious.

It was a sudden change in attitude he wasn’t quite prepared for, or really even expected. She wasn’t as ditsy as he thought, it seemed. “Yes, they’re a specialized force that works for Shinra. Don’t know too much about them, to be honest, but I do know they look out for SOLDIER candidates, and handle other stuff that isn’t so… friendly.”

His own mentioning of SOLDIER made his heart burn, but Aerith’s grin helped alleviate it. “You know enough, then,” she glanced behind her, at the cardinal, “Well, you should also know that one of ‘em’s inspecting you right now.”

“Huh?!” He gaped, looked at the cardinal, then back at Aerith, “You mean the bird is—”

“Shh!” She put a finger up to his lip, “Yes, it’s the bird. I’m surprised you noticed.”

“I wouldn’t have, had you not said anything,” he admitted honestly after she moved her finger away, which left a burning sensation on his lips, “You’ve been staring at the bird for a while so I just… connected the dots, I guess.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment she didn’t say a word. The silence made him wonder if he had said something wrong, but then she smiled softly and warmly, and his worries were instantly eased. “I see,” she said, her gaze drifting to the watering can in her hands, “Whoever’s watching you right now is probably checking to see whether you’re following orders. Hojo’s orders.” She looked at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “He probably told you something along the lines of ‘don’t let her leave her room under any circumstance!’ or something like that, right?”

He almost chuckled at her terrible impression of the doctor, but his cheeks were too red with shame for his laughter to escape his lips. “...He did.”

Her smile grew as a soft exhale left her nose. “I appreciate you trying to please me, Cloud, but I don’t want you to put yourself at risk for me.”

Without thinking twice about it, he responded, “That’s kind of my job.”

Both of their eyes widened for a split second. It’s not like what he said was wrong, that was his job. But then… why did she look so surprised? He doubted he was the first bodyguard ever assigned to her, he figured she would be used to people saying they would risk their lives for her.

And, more importantly, when did he accept that he would risk himself for her, too? 

Aerith recovered faster, giggling as she said, “Which is all the more reason why you shouldn’t be disobedient on your first day! You could get fired for not following Hojo’s orders,” she leaned in closer then put her hand on the corner of her mouth and whispered, “ or worse!”

Cloud gulped, then whispered back, “I know that.”

She seemed happy that he was playing along in their “secret exchange” (though those secrets weren’t really secrets). “Just keep doing what Hojo tells you to for a couple days, the Turks will stop spying on you once they’ve confirmed what they’re looking for,” she walked to one of the flower vases by the windows and gently poured water into it, “Let’s just take care of the flowers in here for today, we’ll do the ones in the rest of the castle some other time.”

Again, Cloud felt that bubble of frustration in his chest as he followed after her. “Okay,” he said, though it sounded more like a groan than he had intended. Being watched was not what he signed up for—not that he had signed up for this job in the first place—but he supposed he had no other choice but to accept it. Aerith seemed pretty used to it, too, what with being able to tell that something as normal as a bird was being used as a spying tool. He could only wonder how often it had happened for her to make the connection.

There was a glint in her eyes as he walked past her to a different flower vase, which made his brain short-circuit for a moment before he swiftly recovered. He didn’t know why she was looking at him like that, but he thought it better not to ask. Somehow, he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer. 

Just as he was about to pour the water onto the flowers, Aerith said with surprising sternness, “Make sure you don’t under- or over-water them!”

Cloud paused his movements, slapping his hand on the opening of the watering can before a single drop could escape, and turned to the princess. “And how would I know that?”

“You’ve never watered flowers before?”

“Not really, no.”

Aerith sighed as she shook her head, putting a hand on her hip as she walked to him. “You, mister, have a lot to learn!”

He couldn’t help but to chuckle at that, then listened attentively as she went on to explain, what she called “Plant Care 101.” Something about the soil, to keep an eye on its moisture content or whatever. Cloud barely understood a word of it, if he was being perfectly honest, but watching the way she gently poured water into the vase did give him the general gist. She looked so serene, her gaze on the flowers was gentle and caring, as if a few flock of petals were worth more than everything else in the room. 

There was a variety of flowers in each vase, ranging from lilies to roses, asters and poppies, daisies and… a bunch of others that he had no idea what the names of them were. He would have to ask her at some point, he figured. Just in case they had to be taken care of differently.

“You’re welcome,” Aerith said suddenly while gently caressing the petal of one of the flowers.

“Huh?”

“To the flowers. They always say ‘thank you’ after you water them.”

He raised a brow. Maybe she was a little crazy, years of solitary confinement could do that to a person. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t indulge her, “Really?”

“No.” Cloud tightly pressed his lips together to hold back a gasp. Her sudden changes in tone continued to throw him for a loop. “They don’t actually say anything, but you know…”

He tilted his head, curious, “What?”

She startled—or flinched, he couldn’t quite tell—and pressed her lips into a tight smile, “Well… I’ve read that plants get ‘happy’ whenever you’re nice to them, and so they thrive and get to live a little longer. I know it sounds silly and it’s probably not true, but…”

“Probably not,” he said, “but it’s worth a try anyway, right?”

“Right! So make sure you say ‘you’re welcome’ each time after you're done,” She grinned. With the sun shining down on her through the window panes, she looked like she was glowing. 

In a forest filled with people urging to do whatever it took to gain power, she was the gentle nymph that carried an air of mystery and wonder, that brought peace and calm to a place filled with unfathomable horrors and dangers. He saw, now, why there was some who said she would be Midagr’s savior. She was a light in the darkness, whose brilliance soothed the hurt, pained, frustrated, and angry; and who brought bravery to the fearful. 

She might’ve been a good emperor, and he might’ve even enjoyed being a knight under her reign. But Shinra would never allow that to happen.

They spent the rest of the morning watering the flowers in relative silence. Occasionally she would scold him if she noticed he was drifting off, then she’d tease him and go back to humming quietly to herself. This whole watering plants business was so tedious, he feared he’d blink and suddenly the soil would be completely underwater; after the first two scoldings he damn near put his entire head in the vase to make sure that the dirt was wet enough.

A maid came in—the only one he’d seen around this part of the castle—carrying lunches for the both of them. He hadn’t realized it was already lunch time, so he ended up nearly throwing his watering can at her when she walked in without knocking. Usually his stomach would be raging whenever the afternoon struck, how strange that it was completely silent now.

Aerith gratefully took the plates from her hands, and he had never seen a maid leave a room faster. He looked at Aerith, somewhat horrified, and she simply shrugged and handed him his plate. “They always do that,” she said as she sat down on one of her sofas, “Am I that scary?”

Not in the slightest. “Intimidating, maybe,” he said. 

“Hmm. Think if I fill the room with even more flowers they’ll see me as the ‘crazy flower lady’ and stick around for longer than two seconds?”

A pang of guilt filled his conscience at the nickname, but he tried not to let it show, “Maybe, or they’ll want to run away even more.”

“Truly a lose-lose situation, huh?” Aerith sighed, “Well whatever. C’mon, sit down and have your lunch!”

She patted the spot next to her, smiling warmly up at him. He sat on the other sofa out of fear Zack would be the one to ultimately end him for getting too close to his fiancee (something he had done far too often at that point). Aerith didn’t seem to mind, though, and she continued merrily eating her lunch while he reluctantly started his. 

Once they were finished, Aerith went to her bedchamber—the entrance of which was a simple door diagonal to the one that led into the sitting room—then came back out with a book to read. She had given him very specific instructions before she went: do not interrupt her; she was very serious when it came to reading, and any slight break of her focus would put her in a terrible mood for the rest of the day. 

Quite the bookworm, Cloud thought. Though he wondered what more she could possibly learn from a book that was very clearly about flowers, given the cover, she seemed expert enough on the subject already. 

She didn’t spare him a glance for a solid four hours, and he really started to wonder what the contents of that book were that made it so interesting. Still, he stood dutifully by the door, watching her quietly. The way she would turn the pages with a mere flick of her finger, the way she would tuck back a strand of hair whenever it got too close to her mouth, the way her eyes carefully scanned each page.

A knock at the door snapped him out of his trance. He looked at Aerith, who didn’t seem disturbed by the sound, then quietly left the room only to find one of the castle’s guards on the other side. 

He bit the corner of his lip, feeling his stomach sink, “What is it?”

“The castle has received a threat from Avalanche,” the guard said simply, “They say they’re aiming to destroy Outpost 1 if it doesn’t cease operations.”

He flinched. “So the castle’s on high alert, I’m assuming,” Cloud deduced.

“That’s right. Your orders are to stay by the Princess’ side until further notice.”

“Very well. Thanks.”

He walked back inside, just as Aerith walked into the sitting from her bedchambers. Her eyes widened when they met his, almost like she wasn’t expecting him to be there. How engrossed in her book had she been? “What happened?” She asked.

“Apparently Avalanche is planning on attacking Outpost 1,” Cloud said, “Castle’s on high alert, I’ve been ordered to stay here until the situation’s resolved.”

Aerith tilted her head. “Avalanche?”

“You don’t know about them?”

“The name sounds familiar.”

“They’re an anti-Shinra group that are trying to ‘save the planet’ from the Emperor’s alleged misuse of mako,” Cloud said, crossing his arms, “Looks like they’re turning into terrorists now, too.” One so close to Sector 7, too. The sun was almost entirely below the horizon; Tifa was probably done with her shift by now, hopefully she heard the news before she left.

“Well, the outposts are where the mako for this city is harvested, it would certainly give the Emperor quite the headache to have one of his big money-makers destroyed,” Aerith hummed. She walked to the kitchenette and grabbed some matchsticks from one of the drawers, then she walked around the room lighting each candle. There was a small smile on her lips as she said, “They seem like brave folks.”

And stupid, Cloud would argue. Going against Shinra was always a stupid idea, no matter how good the intentions were. It would only lead to disaster, a disaster that would not only affect those eco-terrorists, but innocent people too. Resistance always ended in tragedy.

Aerith blew the match out after lighting the last candle in the room, filling the room with warm light. She sat down and took her slippers off—he immediately looked away—and raised her feet onto the cushions, hugging her knees up to her chest. Her innocent smile widened as she looked at him, “So, Cloud, how was your first day as a bodyguard?”

“Am I allowed to give the honest answer?”

“To me? Yes, to Hojo…” she winced, “too, actually. But hey, look,” she pointed at one of the windows, “at least you passed the test!”

The cardinal was gone, and he hadn’t noticed its absence in the slightest. Again, he would've been none the wiser if Aerith hadn’t pointed it out to him; maybe she would make a better bodyguard with how often she’d been looking out for him, he thought. “Hurray for me, I suppose,” Cloud chuckled. 

“So, your review?”

“Hmm,” Cloud pondered. It certainly hadn’t been the worst day ever. He wasn’t dead, as he thought he would be, so that was a plus. Being watched was unpleasant, but considering he completely stopped caring about it after some point, he felt he couldn’t count that towards anything. Watering plants had been more entertaining than he expected, too.

Then there was Aerith herself. She was… brilliant. Even though she was virtually trapped in this tower, she was still so energetic and positive; if it were him, he probably would’ve gone insane.  She was so different from everyone else he’d met in Midgar—a flower that bloomed from rubble, peace and tranquility. He found her rather comforting.

“Not bad,” he settled, chuckling when he heard her dramatic gasp.

“That’s it?! Oh just you wait, mister, we’re gonna have so much fun now that the Turks are gone,” Aerith grinned, and he couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm as well. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something through the windows. He realized that they gave a good view of Outpost 1, a tower of stone bricks that was nigh as tall as the castle. There were small explosions erupting through its walls, smoke and mako fizzing through the open roof. He slowly walked towards Aerith. “Well, we can’t tomorrow, since we’re going on an outing with Zack, but—”

A huge explosion came from the top of the outpost.

“Your Highness!”

Cloud ran to her side and pushed her head down onto the sofa, hearing her scream at his ear as the explosion resonated throughout the city. He kept his eyes on the explosion, shifting to sit behind her and cover her body. The room was enveloped in green light as a surge of mako geysered out of the outpost, though it was gone in an instant. Burning debris fell across the city, going past the reaches of Inner Sectors 1 and 8 and into the Outer Sectors as well.

“Holy crap!” Aerith shouted from beneath him, “Was that the outpost?”

“Yep,” Cloud frowned, moving away after verifying that the debris wouldn’t reach the castle, “Looks like Avalanche kept their promise.”

Aerith took a glance at the outpost from over his shoulder, and he watched her expression shift from fear to slight awe. Then her eyes started twitching rapidly, her brows furrowing as the corners of her lips tightened back into a grimace. 

“Princess?” Cloud said gently, noticing how hard she was breathing, “Are you alright?”

“I-I’m okay,” she said, yet she pressed her hand against her temple and closed her eyes tightly, “Just a little startled, that’s all.”

He didn’t buy it, but he wasn’t sure if he should continue pressing her for answers. She was still a princess, who was he to question her word? 

There was a knock at the door, making both of them flinch. They shared a hesitant look before Cloud got up, clutching onto the handle of his sword, and got up to answer the call. 

It was the same guard from earlier, looking a little more agitated than the last time he saw them.
“You are released from your duties for the night,” they said, “Doctor Hojo demands you report to him right away.”

“What?! But the outpost just blew, it’s not safe,” Cloud protested. There was that, sure, but he was mostly worried over Aerith’s reaction to the explosion. 

“Those are the Doctor’s orders,” the guard insisted.

“But—!”

“Cloud.” He turned around, Aerith’s voice like a soothing breeze that calmed his nerves. She smiled at him and pointed at a window. There was a crow perched on the frame. “It's okay. Go.”

He frowned. He didn’t want to; he needed to know she was alright even if it meant he’d have to ask questions he shouldn’t. But with Hojo’s orders, and Aerith encouraging him to go, it didn’t seem like he had much of a choice. 

“Very well,” he said, then bowed down to her, “Rest well, Your Highness. I shall see you tomorrow.”

He closed the door behind him and didn’t spare the guard a second glance before marching down the tower’s stairs. He could already hear people screaming and running, frantic after the explosion. Maids rushed up and down across the halls while any knight available left their stations to go inspect the damage. Only the damage done to the Inner Sectors, though—they wouldn’t care about the slums. 

Hojo’s office was in the infirmary, which, by the time Cloud got there, was brimming with doctors and nurses preparing to accommodate those who had been injured in the disaster. The Head Imperial Doctor, however, sat peacefully in his office, separated from and undisturbed by the chaos of his employees. He was writing something while sitting on his desk, and without looking up at Cloud, he said, “Speak.”

Cloud felt his mouth sour. He remembered what Hojo wanted: a detailed report of the Princess’ entire day. From the most miniscule details to the grandest, every little piece of information he could remember he was obligated to state. Hojo said it was so he could better treat the princess’ poor immune system, but Cloud had a feeling it was more than that, something much more sinister. 

“What was her reaction to the explosion of Outpost 1?” Hojo suddenly asked.

Cloud bit his lip. “She was startled and afraid.”

“And that’s all?” For the first time during the entire conversation—which had been pretty much entirely one-sided—Hojo looked up at Cloud, his dark gray eyes piercing through him.

Cloud remembered the crow; it had probably seen Aerith’s reaction, and if it was Turk reporting to Hojo, the doctor would find out whether Cloud was lying or not. If Cloud lied, he would put his position at risk, and he wanted nothing less than to leave her alone with these people. 

“...She appeared to be in pain,” he said through gritted teeth, “Like she had a headache.”

“A headache, hm?” Hojo said, putting a finger up to his chin, “How interesting. Very well, you’re free to go. Keep in mind that Her Highness is going out with Prince Zack to Kalm tomorrow, make sure you are prepared.”

Cloud wanted to question him, but he kept his mouth shut. For Aerith’s sake. “Yes, Your Grace. Good night.” 

He stomped out of the infirmary, somehow managing to avoid bumping against the medical staff and their brand new patients. From what little he could see, the victims of the explosion were in terrible shape—some had mild to severe burns, others had entire limbs missings, most were completely disfigured. 

The debris from Outpost 1 didn’t look like it went further than Sectors 1 and 8, but with all the frustration and irritation built up in him during the past couple of hours, he couldn’t shake off the thought of checking up on Sector 7. Not necessarily because he was worried, he also figured getting a drink would help ease the turbulence in his mind. Assuming Seventh Heaven was still intact. And it would be. 

He left the castle and walked to the stables, scurrying past all the knight captains that would for sure give him orders to help with the outpost. He mounted his chocobo, gave Billy some spare gil, and made his way past wagons carrying the dead and onto Sector 7.

 

Chapter 4: Sense of Home

Notes:

Hi hi! so sorry its been so long since the last update, unfortunately I started school again so that's been taking most of my time LOL. anyway, here's a short little Cloud-focused chapter for you all! the next update should hopefully be soon, I hope you all enjoy <3

The streets were as crowded as he expected them to be. People gaped at the burning remains of the outpost; the top of it had been completely blown off, and its internal structures were barely keeping it from collapsing entirely. Cloud could hear the screams coming from the disaster, even though he was a ways away from Sector 8. Panic ran through the line of those waiting to enter Outer Sector 7 when another explosion came from the outpost. His ears were still ringing from the initial explosion that shook the castle, it’d be a miracle if he could still hear after tonight. 

He wondered if Aerith was okay. There was still a bitterness in his mouth after leaving her like that, alone and afraid in a castle full of dangerous people. She was probably more experienced at dealing with them than he was, sure, but still, it just didn’t feel right. Then again, maybe he was just worrying too much for no reason.

The sign of Seventh Heaven stood tall and proud, and on the steps leading up to the bar sat Tifa, free of her uniform and in a casual dress instead. He’d never tell anyone else, but he exhaled in relief at the sight of her. There was a little girl sitting next to her that looked awfully familiar, though he couldn’t quite place where he had seen her before. The two were talking about something, smiles on their faces despite the chaos around them. 

Tifa noticed his approach, her face beaming as she stood up from her seat, the little girl following after her. “Cloud!” She said as he dismounted his chocobo. “I was so worried about you, I’m glad you’re okay,” she picked up the girl, carrying her in her arms as she followed him into the mini-stable, “How are things at the castle?”

“Bad,” he said, and Tifa flinched, “There’s a bunch of fires in Sectors 1 and 8, tons of injured people are being taken to the castle. Saw a couple of ‘em with missing li—” He suddenly made eye contact with the big, dark honey eyes of the girl in Tifa’s arms, who was definitely way too young to hear about dismembered corpses and people whose entire faces had been burnt to crisps. “Uh…”

“Oh, right, this is Marlene, she’s the daughter of a good friend of mine,” Tifa said, playfully squeezing the girl’s cheek, “I’m watching over her while he’s at work, but he should be back any minute now. Say hello, Marlene.”

“But daddy said not to talk to strangers!” The girl ‘whispered’ into Tifa’s ear—he still heard her loud and clear, though.

“He’s not a stranger, he’s my friend,” Tifa giggled.

Marlene still looked a little hesitant, but she gave the weakest, smallest wave he’d seen, and a tiny, little “Hello.”

“Um, hi,” Cloud said, his voice a little rougher than he meant it to be. He’s never been good with kids.

Marlene nuzzled into Tifa’s neck and, sensing the awkwardness, the bartender chuckled and turned to leave the stable, saying, “Let’s go inside the bar, I’ll whip something up for you, Cloud.”

“It’s fine, I didn’t come here to eat, just to—” He stopped.

“Hm?” Tifa turned to look at him, “Just to what?”

“Uh.” He couldn’t tell her he came because he wanted to make sure she hadn’t been hurt in the explosion. That’d be weird. “Just… Just to have a drink.”

She giggled. “I can make you one of those, too.”

No one was inside the bar, making it eerily quiet. Tifa sat Marlene down on one of the chairs in front of the counter then walked to the back. Cloud sat down two chairs away from Marlene, not wanting to spook her more than he clearly already had (he also wanted to avoid more uncomfortable conversation).

“How’re things here?” He asked, watching Tifa as she reached for a tall bottle on top of a shelf.

“Not as bad as they seem,” Tifa said, “People are scared, panicked, but when it comes to property damage? Sector 7 is clear. At least, it is for now.”

She poured the liquid into a small glass cup for him, the intense liquor burning his nose. He tried not to have much of a reaction as it equally burned his throat. “I can’t believe Avalanche would stoop to this. I know they want to get back at Shinra, but this is too much.”

“Yeah,” Tifa nodded, her voice shaky, “It was definitely a risky plan. I hope the people in Sectors 1 and 8 are okay.”

“Doubt it,” Cloud said as he crossed his arms, “With all the smoke coming from either side of The Plate, don’t think there’s gonna be much left standing.”

“Mm.” Tifa stole a glance at Marlene, who was fidgeting with the hems of her dress. The young girl had always been an overthinker, despite her age; Tifa could hardly fathom what could be going through her little mind at the moment. Hearing two jaded adults talk about a tragedy certainly wouldn’t help her wild imagination.

“So, Cloud,” she quickly changed the subject as she leaned against the counter, “Tell me, what was your first day with the princess like?”

Cloud heard a soft gasp come from beside him, and he looked at the young girl out of the corner of his eye; she was sitting up straight now, her hands covering her mouth, and she appeared much more lively compared to before. She didn’t say anything, just went back to fidgeting with her dress, but she was definitely pretending not to listen.

He raised a brow, choosing not to comment on it, and turned back to Tifa. “The princess,” he began, unsure of how he could even begin to describe her. Kind? Energetic? Somewhat stubborn? Really pretty? Smart as hell? “She’s… certainly special.”

“Is that so?” Tifa leaned towards Marlene, a mischievous grin on her face that he didn’t like. “Marlene, did you know Cloud here is the princess’ bodyguard?”

The young girl looked up at him, stars in her eyes, like all her shyness had completely evaporated. “You really serve the princess?!”

Oh, brother. Entertaining kids was the last thing he wanted, ever; If he could, he would run away at that very moment, but Tifa had already walked to the stove—to make Marlene something for dinner, he assumed—and left him completely alone and defenseless with this random child. Seemed like he had no other choice.

“Yeah,” he said plainly, hoping she wouldn’t ask more questions.

But kids were very curious beings, unfortunately. “What’s she like? Is she nice? Pretty?!”

“W-Well—”

The front doors suddenly slammed open, the sounds of laughter and cheer filling the quiet bar. A group of four waltzed right in, talking amongst themselves as though they were without a care in the world. Their glee stopped, however, once the tallest of the bunch—a man dressed in an eerily familiar cloak—gazed upon the imperial knight sitting at the counter. The other three left in a hurry, while the man’s expression soured, chest puffing out and mouth turning into a snarl as he prepared to bark some curses at the knight—at least, that’s what Cloud assumed was about to happen (knights weren’t very popular amongst the Outer folk)(nor was anything Shinra related, for that matter).

“Daddy!”

Marlene hopped down from her seat and ran to the sturdy man, and Cloud watched as his expression shifted from annoyance to pure, unbridled joy. Such a wide smile almost didn’t fit his hardened features, Cloud thought.

“Marlene! My baby!” The young girl giggled as her apparent father picked her up with his left arm, and for the third time that night Cloud got an eerie sense of familiarity. The silhouette of the two of them, he’d seen it before, but he just couldn’t place where. It was right on the tip of his tongue…

“Welcome back, Barret!” Tifa grinned as she walked back up to the counter.

It clicked. That was the same man that was shooting him dirty looks when he stayed in Seventh Heaven yesterday! 

And seemed like his opinion of him hadn’t changed in the slightest since, for after a short exchange between him and his child, he turned back to Cloud, that same glare spreading over his face. He took slow, heavy steps towards the knight; Cloud would’ve thought it intimidating if he wasn’t so used to staring at actual monsters in the face. 

“And who is this?” The man—Barret, he believed Tifa said—asked, his voice gruff and raspy. 

“This is Cloud, he’s a friend from back home,” Tifa explained. Cloud didn’t say anything, only met Barret’s glare with one of his own. 

“And a lapdog,” Barret huffed, eyeing the medallion on his cape.

“Barret!” Tifa shouted, but Cloud didn’t mind. He’d been called much worse. 

“Daddy, he’s the princess’ bodyguard,” Marlene whispered in her father’s ear. 

One of Barret’s brows cocked up at that, “Is that so?” He approached Cloud, slow and heavy steps with which the tension in the room seemed to increase. “Well then, Mr. Bodyguard, I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Cloud raised a brow. “Last I checked, you’re not the owner. You don’t get to decide who stays and who doesn’t.”

“What’d you say to me, you little punk?!” Barret snarled, clenching his left fist. 

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” Cloud said, reaching for the hilt of his sword.

“Cloud, Barret!” The two men looked at Tifa, who was giving the two of them a stern look while her hands were at her hips. “Enough! Keep this up and I, the actual owner, will kick both of you out!”

Marlene giggled behind them as both men grumbled, sinking into their respective stools. “Daddy got in trouble!”

“Marlene!”

“Sorry, Cloud,” Tifa sighed with a shake of her head, giving him an apologetic smile, “Looks like whatever it is Barret wants to say is pretty important. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Oh. He wasn’t well versed in social cues, but even he wasn’t dumb enough to miss that implication—and the ache in his chest that came with it. That was something he could ignore and mask, though; he’d grown used to it after so many years of being “the outsider.” 

He dropped twenty gil on the counter, and as he spoke he tried to keep any bitterness from slipping past his tongue, “Probably won’t. I’m going to Kalm tomorrow with the princess.”

“Oh, that’s right, Zack did mention he was going on a date with the princess soon, that must be it. Be safe!”

Cloud was already halfway across the bar when Tifa’s words made him stop in his tracks. A… date? It should’ve been obvious: Hojo told him the princess was going on outing with Zack, and the two royals were engaged. Yet, the concept of tomorrow’s excursion being a… a date… had completely eluded him. He had no idea why, but he felt even more annoyed.

“Yeah, well… I’ll see ya,” Cloud huffed, not waiting for a response before practically storming out. 

A part of him couldn’t help but think that maybe he shouldn’t have come as he mounted his chocobo. He should’ve left as soon as he verified Tifa was alright—the hard and painful pounding in his chest wouldn’t be there if only he had done that. It was a pain he was used to, but never did it sting any less.

He could see the fires of Sector 8 as he made his way to The Plate, no less bright than when he had first arrived. Homes were still burning, people were still screaming, and the tension on the muscles of his jaw and temple were growing. Distant memories he longed to forget banged against the door locking them deep within his brain. 

The sights and sounds were all too familiar, enough to push the burning alcohol in his stomach back up his esophagus. It only amounted to mild heartburn, though—he’d gotten good at suppressing his nausea.

Chapter 5: On Their Way

The next day, Cloud followed his routine as per usual: get up, get dressed, eat, train, freshen up, then go to work. Except he took a little longer; he lingered in bed for a while after he woke up, ate breakfast a little slower, trained a little harder. He didn’t see Zack at all, he figured the prince must’ve been getting ready for his… date with the princess. The thought still irritated him for one reason or another.

He climbed the stairs of the tower swiftly to make up for the lost time, then knocked on the princess’ door. “Your Highness, it’s Cloud,” he announced.

“Come in!” He heard her say, brightly as usual, though her voice sounded more muffled and distant than he would’ve expected. Strange. Stepping inside, he found that the princess was nowhere to be found in the sitting room. If he didn’t have an ounce of common sense, he might’ve started to panic. 

“Princess?” He called.

“In my room.” Knowing Aerith, that statement had two meanings: one, actually disclosing her location so her knight would know where she was; and two, an invitation. Of course, she would have no ill intention, but again, Cloud had common sense; he knew what his station was, he was below her in every way. And if those pompous nobles found out that he went to her room, they would surely start rumors that he had been below her in a certain way, and he didn’t want to cause trouble for the princess. Gaia knows those nobles loved to spew their scalding tea around. 

The door to the princess’ bedchambers squeaked open, and out popped her head, and he was immediately hit with relief at her safety. She seemed to be back in her spirits compared to the previous night: there was a cute, small pout on her lips that he figured was from her disappointment. Then he noticed her brown curls were cascading down her—evidently—bare shoulder. He gulped. “Are you not coming in?” She asked.

“I did come in.”

“In my room.”

“It would be inappropriate of me to do so.”

Aerith huffed then retreated back to her chambers, and Cloud let out a breath. He sucked it right back up, however, when she emerged again and he got a full view of her. She wore a flowy white dress beneath a pink overgown that split down the middle and was dangerously low cut, cinched below her bosom by a golden ribbon. Red, loose sleeves hung past her shoulders, almost like flower petals. The sun’s light shone on her and she illuminated the room like stained glass, colorful and bright and lovely; he questioned if he was allowed to look at her.

“Well, if you won’t join me in there, then I guess I’ll just have to finish getting ready out here,” Aerith said as she placed all the items in her arms on the tea table, snapping Cloud out of his daze. 

Still, he chuckled. He always thought of himself as being a rather uninteresting person, he had no idea why someone as joyful as her would willingly want to have his dreary company. Protection seemed like the most logical answer. Or maybe she was just stubborn. “If you insist.”

“And insist I do!” He chuckled again, his chest light with a glee he wasn’t used to. Her smile was radiant as she gathered a portion of her hair, separating it from the rest, and braided it. 

She grabbed one of the items on the table: a brilliant white orb, with glittery patterns swirling within it. It radiated a soft light that illuminated her hands as she brought the orb up to her hair. Cloud raised a brow, “Is that a…?”

“Materia? Yep,” Aerith nodded, wrapping her braid around the orb, securing it to the back of her head, “It’s not good for anything, though. I haven’t been able to get it to cast anything for years.”

“Maybe you just don’t know how to use it,” Cloud tried to offer some comfort, seeing the slight melancholic look in her eyes.

“Maybe.” She tied the bun with a red ribbon that had gold trimmings, the same one he had seen her wear almost every day. “I don’t really mind either way. It was a gift from my mother, just having it with me is comforting enough.”

Cloud didn’t know much about the late queen; he’d only ever heard rumors that she was a kind and benevolent soul, and that Aerith was the spitting image of her—albeit there were no portraits in the castle to prove that. He did, however, know what it was like to lose a mother, and how meaningful having something to remind you of her could be. If only he had something like that.

“Oh, and just so you know, I do know how to use materia,” Aerith grinned as she put on her last accessory: a gold tiara decorated with small emeralds, “This one’s just… a little finicky.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out how to use it some day.”

“I hope so.” The dull bells of a grandfather clock rang from inside Aerith’s room, indicating it was noon. “Oh! Looks like it’s time for the date.”

A hammer slammed against his skull as he was forced to recall what the plan for today was, and hearing it from Aerith’s own mouth felt like he got whacked twice. Honestly, he had no idea why he was feeling this way. Aerith and Zack were engaged, for goodness sake, it was only natural that they went on dates together. Hell, Zack’s even told him about previous dates they’ve gone on. So why, why now , did it bother him so much? 

Aerith hopped up from her seat and walked towards the door, and that was Cloud’s hint that he should get his shit together and think about his feelings later; he had work to do. 

He opened the door for her, earning a small “thank you” from her that made his heart flutter. The pair walked down the tower, Cloud following her from a couple steps behind. Servants cleared the way for them as they walked through the halls of the main castle, none uttering even a word of “hello” or “have a safe trip.”

Two knights pushed the front doors open, letting in the well-disguised Midgar stench. Cloud could already see Zack and an entourage of chocobo-mounted guards and servants waiting for them at the bottom of the staircase, plus the carriage that would house the royals on their journey. The prince looked up as soon as the doors clicked open, his smile growing wide as his eyes landed on Aerith. 

He walked up the steps in the blink of an eye, taking Aerith’s hand in his, “Good day, Your Highness. You look as angelic as always.”

Cloud did his best to not roll his eyes. Aerith giggled as Zack planted a kiss on the back of her hand, “It’s good to see you, Zack. You’re rather dashing yourself.”

He was only wearing the standard SOLDIER uniform—which didn’t look that different from what Cloud was currently wearing—it wasn’t anything special. Zack offered her his elbow, which she happily wrapped her arm around, and the couple gracefully descended the stairs in relative tandem, Cloud following close behind. Zack did spare him a grin and a wave, at least.

One of the servants handed Cloud the reign of his chocobo, and thankfully for him it was the right one. He patted Piko’s neck as he spared a glance to the royals, watching as Zack helped Aerith into the carriage then walked away. 

She seemed startled by this, her eyes following the prince as he too was handed the reins of a chocobo. “Zack?” She said, her voice soft, “Where are you going?”

“Uh,” Zack looked at the chocobo, then back at Aerith, his hand moving up to scratch the back of his neck as he gave her one of his classic laid-back smiles, “Well, since today is my last day off, I figured I’d enjoy the sights one last time, y’know?” 

“Oh.” The dejected look in Aerith’s eyes made Cloud’s chest burn, though that expression lasted for only a second before she put on a polite smile, “I understand. Make sure you don’t stray too far from the group, okay?”

“Don’t you worry, I can take care of myself!”

“Get himself in a shit-ton of trouble, more like,” Cloud murmured, knowing Zack’s reckless nature. He made sure Aerith was settled in before mounting his bird, sticking as close to the carriage as he could. He did hear her giggle as she sat down, and his cheeks reddened at the thought she might’ve heard him. Should remember to watch his mouth. 

Zack gave the order to depart (odd seeing as the literal princess of Midgar was here, but Cloud digressed) and the party set out to the streets of the city. They garnered more attention than Cloud was comfortable with—who knows if any of these nobles planned to do harm to the princess—thanks to Zack being out and about, waving back to all who waved to him, stopping his bird to accept gifts from all the young girls who swooned at his smile, and helping anyone who was in (minor) trouble. 

It was a different story when the party reached Outer Midgar, though. Suddenly there was no time to stop and help; the people’s cries fell on ignorant ears, and the scorn in their eyes burned through the nobles like it was nothing. The other guards had warned (“warned,” he said, but even he could tell it was an order) Aerith to close the curtains of the carriage’s windows so she wouldn’t be disturbed by the sights. Still, from the small crack left between the curtains, he could see her gloomy eyes looking at the state of the once great city she called home, her beautiful smile completely wilted. The things he would give to see it again.

It didn’t take long to leave the Outer city’s extremities through Sector Five, and even after reaching the barren, dry land that surrounded Midgar, even after the guards told her it was safe, Aerith didn’t open the curtains. A part of him wanted to knock on the door, ask if she was alright—maybe she was still unwell after yesterday’s explosion—and if she needed anything, but he wasn’t sure if he should. The longer those curtains remained shut, the more his worry grew—he even started to consider dragging Zack back from his spot at the front of the group to get him to check on her just to relieve some of his anxiety. 

“Cloud!”

He nearly fell off his chocobo and yelped when the princess’ bright green eyes suddenly emerged from the carriage, her curls swaying gracefully in the wind as she leaned her arms against the windowsill. Her smile was casual and cute while Cloud gaped at her as if she hadn’t just put all his years of training on how to keep a stone-cold face to shame. She seemed to be really good at doing that, he’d noticed.

Cloud cleared his throat, balancing himself on the chocobo, “Yes, Your Highness?”

She giggled and leaned further out of the carriage, which caused Cloud’s heart rate to spike. “Tell me, how much longer till we get to Kalm?”

“Hm,” he looked into the distance, at the speck of a town that slowly grew as they approached, “Around two hours. Or three.”

“Huh, that’s shorter than I expected. I’ve heard it takes an entire day to get there!”

“That’s only if you go on foot, and even then it’s not really a full day— more like from sunrise to sunset.”

“Aw man, I was kinda hoping we’d get to camp.”

“You want to sleep out here?”

“Why not? Gathering around a campfire, gazing up at the starry sky, telling ghost stories… sounds fun!”

“If you want to be surrounded by monsters in the middle of the night, sure…”

“Good thing I have you here to keep me safe,” she winked, and Cloud did his best to bite his smile back. “Have you been to Kalm before?”

“Plenty of times, most times I get dispatched to anywhere outside of Midgar it’s to go there. Have you?”

“Once. It was a really, really long time ago, when my parents were still alive, so I don’t really remember much about it.” Her eyes drifted into the distance, and he could see a sense of longing in them as she stared at the road ahead of them. “I went with my nanny, and…” she paused, “an old friend. Honestly, I’m surprised Shinra authorized this trip; they never let me leave the castle grounds, much less the entire city.”

“And I somehow doubt it was a simple change of heart,” Cloud murmured, trepidation settling in his chest.

“Zack’s a pretty good actor, and an even better talker. Who knows? Maybe he managed to soften up the old hag enough to let me out of the city.”

Cloud couldn’t help but chuckle at the Emperor’s new nickname, but the moment was short lived when he noticed his chocobo startled, flapping its small wings erratically while letting out worrisome “kweh”s. He looked ahead, noticing Zack had also come to a sudden halt that the rest of the party mimicked.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Aerith lean even further out of the carriage—good god she was going to give herself a concussion if she fell out—while trying to get a peak of the situation. “What’s going on?”

Cloud watched as Zack dismounted his chocobo, unsheathing his sword from its place on his back as he boldly faced the incoming dust cloud. The Buster Sword was a sight to behold, it had an elegance yet roughness that the classic Shinra-assigned swords didn’t have—however, it was never a good thing to see it anywhere beside on Zack’s back. Especially if it was facing you.

“Monsters,” Cloud said, loudly enough to alert the servants and guards around the carriage. 

Aerith watched wearily as they all surrounded the carriage with their weapons drawn, and she retreated further back into the carriage, “I take it that’s my cue to hide?”

“Just a precaution. That said, taking shelter might not be such a bad idea.” He could vaguely distinguish each wolf in the pack that was quickly approaching them; they were relatively low-level enemies, might be a bit of a challenge for the rookie knights, but for Zack? Those monsters were nothing. 

He heard the princess shuffle around, and when he looked back at the carriage, he found that she had retreated back inside and closed the curtains again. “Well, try not to get too beat up, okay?” She said.

He exhaled through his nose, hints of a smirk on his lips. “Won’t even get a scratch.” And a part of him wanted to say it would be because he was such a good fighter that he could fight the monsters off without any effort, but that wasn’t the case at all. It was because Zack, who—by the time Cloud finished conversing with the princess—had already taken out half of the pack. 

He worked swiftly and aggressively, using his metal fists to crush the skulls of the wolves and his metal legs to jump high and avoid their attacks. He sliced through their bodies with the Buster Sword, each swing made stronger with the mako that flowed through his magiarmor. 

With each enemy he defeated, the spectators “ooh”d and “aah”d and cheered and sung his praises, and Cloud couldn’t blame them. He’d fought alongside Zack several times before, and each time it left him in awe at the strength and agility of SOLDIERS, of his friend. Zack was, without a doubt, a hero. A real hero.

The prince made his way back to the rest of the group once he was done, a laid-back smile on his face. Servants immediately rushed to his side to check him for injuries, but he dismissed them with a wave of his hand and reassured them he was alright.

“Is it over?” Cloud turned to the carriage, watching Aerith as she poked her head out the window.

“Yes, Prince Zack took care of the monsters,” he nodded.

“That was fast.”

“He’s a very skilled fighter.”

“I guess so. Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“You and the others. No injuries?”

“Oh.” Not just him then. Right. “No, Your Highness, we’re all safe.”

“That’s a relief,” Aerith sighed, then her eyes drifted towards Zack as he made his way over to her in a light jog. “Zack!”

Oh brother. “Aerith!” Zack said dramatically, putting his hands on the windowsill and standing on his tippy-toes so he could get closer to the princess. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m alright, just a little spooked, that’s all,” she said, though she didn’t seem all that spooked when Cloud was talking to her earlier. “Oh dear, you’re bleeding!”

Cloud started to feel sick, his chest was tight for… whatever reason. “I am?” Zack said, then touched the small trail of blood running down his right cheek, “Huh, I hadn’t noticed!”

“Here, let me patch you up.” She gently cupped his cheek and a soft, pale green glow started emanating from her hand as she closed her eyes. Strange, Cloud hadn’t noticed her bring any materia with her—other than the one her mother gave her, which he doubted would be a simple healing materia.

Zack closed his eyes as well, sighing in relief as the bleeding stopped and the scratch closed itself up. “It’s always so peaceful whenever you heal, Aerith. Healing from materia and potions usually make me nausceous or dizzy. What’s your secret?”

“I don’t have one, other than the fact I’m not using materia, of course.”

Cloud raised a brow at that. It should be impossible for anyone to use magic of any kind without materia—something or other about the human body didn’t let them, though Cloud wasn’t quite sure what to be perfectly honest.

“You’ve gotta teach me how you do it,” Zack said.

“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Aerith smiled, lovingly patting his cheek, “Alright, you’re all healed, shall we continue our journey?”

“Let’s,” Zack grinned, then walked back to his chocobo.

“He can be so reckless sometimes,” Aerith sighed dreamily as she watched him go.

Cloud avoided rolling his eyes. He wasn’t made out for the melodrama of lovey-dovey couples. “Tell me about it.”

***

Upon arriving in Kalm, the party was warmly greeted by the baron that led the town and his entourage, along with a small band playing a gentle waltz and fair ladies throwing flower petals into the air, which then cascaded onto their hair and shoulders. Cloud watched Aerith pluck a few from Zack’s spiky head and promptly looked the other way.

After that welcoming ceremony, the baron guided the royals to his home while the rest of the party—save for a select few servants, Cloud included—went their separate ways. Kalm was a relatively small town, with simple brick and wood apartments decorated with flower pots and hanging vines, and mako pipes coming all the way from Midgar digging low beneath the surface. 

The tallest building—the clocktower—was visible even from miles away and was a wonder to look at despite its simplicity compared to the tall, grand buildings of Inner Midgar. The baron guided the royals to the top of the tower, where a white metal table set with tea and decorated with roses awaited them. Cloud hardly focused on the conversation between Zack and the baron while he stood behind the royal couple, albeit closer to Aerith.

She seemed just as uninterested as Cloud was, if not more , while she absentmindedly sipped her tea and stared out the open spaces between the columns that held the roof up. Occasionally she would chime in, although the baron didn’t seem to care much for her opinion—he would simply nod at her and go back to talking to Zack, then Aerith would heave a quiet sigh and sip her tea again. 

A part of Cloud really wanted to sock the baron in the face for showing such blatant disrespect to his princess, but each time he tried to step forward, Aerith would shoot him a look that was the equivalent of a dog owner telling their pet to sit. Cloud was too obedient, he thinks.

Another round of tea was served, and the baron went on about how it was some rare, exotic floral kind that came all the way from Wutai, and was used by the Wutaian royal family themselves. Zack feigned interest as best as he could—the man had never been one to care for all the fancy stuff that came with the princely life—while Aerith quietly drank the tea. 

Her expression soured in an instant, a small cough slipping past her expression of nonchalance. She stared at her cup, brows furrowed and mouth drawn back into a loose frown, none of which were good signs for Cloud. 

“Your Highness?” He said quietly, leaning down slightly so she could hear him without drawing too much attention. 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, her body tensing at their proximity. “I’m alright,” she nodded before taking another sip, though Cloud highly doubted her words by the way she struggled to swallow the tea, like it was burning her throat. Something was up, but clearly Aerith didn’t want him to intervene, and the baron and Zack were acting like nothing was wrong at all. 

Cloud did his best not to grind his teeth as he clenched his jaw; his job was to keep Aerith safe—and in theory he was doing just that. But then, why did it feel like he was failing at it?

Something in the distance caught the princess’ eye, for she suddenly stood and walked to the railing across from where she sat. “Princess!” Cloud called, following after her while trying to get a glimpse of what she was seeing. 

“Aerith?” He heard Zack say, followed by the screeching of a moving chair. “What’s wrong?”

She leaned over the railing just as Cloud arrived at her side; her eyes were wide and horrified as she looked into the town, and following her gaze, Cloud caught sight of what was causing her disturbance and froze. Before he could say anything, Aerith frantically turned towards the baron and Zack and yelled, “A house is on fire!”

“What?!” The baron and Zack both made their way to the railing, and they all watched as flames consumed a building a few blocks away from the clocktower, panic sweeping through the streets while civilians rushed out of their homes and looked for help. 

The screams, the flames, the unbearable heat, his heart pounding against his ears. All too familiar.

“How could this happen?” The baron murmured, then turned to the royals. “Your Highness!”

“Yes?” Zack and Aerith said at the same time.

The baron flinched, “A-Ah, apologies, Princess, I was referring to His Highness.”

“Oh,” Aerith breathed, deflating a little before nodding, “Go ahead.”

“R-Right. Er, Your Highness, I must apologize for asking this of you, but please help us resolve this crisis.”

“Of course,” Zack said, then put a gentle hand on Aerith’s arm, “Stay here, okay?” She nodded, then he finally turned to Cloud, “Keep the princess safe.”

Against the drumming in his ears, Zack’s voice was just above a whisper, but Cloud still managed to respond, “Yes, Your Highness.”

“I’ll be back soon,” Zack addressed Aerith one last time before allowing the baron to lead the way to the burning house, taking some of the guards with him.

Aerith faced the burning home again, clasping her hands together up to her chest, “I hope everyone’s alright.”

As much as Cloud wanted to listen to her, as much as he wanted to tell her everything would be alright, the heat searing his body had melted his shoes and made them stick to the ground. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop listening to the screams, the cries, and he questioned: why? Why now of all times? Why not yesterday, when the devastation had been much grander? When he was alone?

“Cloud?” He heard her sweet voice call, but his head was foggy and she a murmur. 

The air cooked his lungs, burned them to crisps, and the smoke and the ashes stuck to his eyeballs, blinding him. Sweat dripped down his entire body, boiling him and erasing all sense and reason from him. 

“Stop,” he huffed, the words burning his throat, “Please…”

“Cloud!”

A healing wave of cool, fresh air washed over him. The scent of lilies cleared his nostrils and the wind cleared his vision and pushed away the smog that clouded his head. He looked to his side, meeting her beautiful, forest green eyes, which were full of concern and filled him with a peace and relief that was unfamiliar to him.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice a sweet melody. “C’mon, get it together.” He noticed then that she was holding his hand with both of hers; a secure yet gentle touch that grounded him.

His lungs no longer burned, the air could pass through his windpipe easily again. Aerith stepped closer to him, and he didn’t have the energy to care about the lack of distance between them. “A…Apologies, my lady,” he murmured, drowning in her eyes.

Her cheeks were tinted a shade of pink as she shook her head. “You don’t need to apologize,” she reassured, her eyes drifting to the burning building. Her jaw clenched, and he could tell there was something she wanted to say, but was hesitating to for whatever reason—that wasn’t like her at all, and it sparked worry within him.

“Princess?” He said, tilting his head down towards her.

She raised her joint hands up to her chest, biting her lip. Her eyes met his again, and he felt completely and utterly seen. “...When Hojo introduced you, he said you were from Nibelheim. Is that true?”

Cloud swallowed hard. “It is.”

Something between a gasp and a sigh left her lips as she looked down at their hands, then back at the town. “This place… does it remind you of your home?”

“No,” was his immediate answer, “Nibelheim was nowhere near as fancy as this place; it was a real backwater town, held virtually no importance. There’s that, and the fact Nibelheim doesn’t exist anymore, not like how I remember it, at least.”

The words left his mouth faster than he could think, and regret immediately hit him when he saw her frown deepen. “I’m sorry,” she said in a voice so quiet and vulnerable it almost didn’t sound like hers.

He cursed himself for not being more careful and tightened his hold on her hand. He hated to see her sad. “Don’t be. You didn’t have a say in what happened.”

Aerith pressed her lips into a thin line, then let out a shallow and shaky sigh, “And that’s exactly the problem.”

“Princess…”

She shut her eyes tightly before snapping them open, staring at him with a new found determination, “Let’s go down there.”

“But it’s dangerous,” he argued.

“I don’t care,” Aerith said, “I can’t just stand here doing nothing while there’s people suffering so close to me, especially when I have the ability to help them.”

He was awestruck by her, by her ability to turn even the most dour moments into ones of strength. Her eyes, not long ago lined with tears, now brimmed with a desire to provide and protect. And for the first time, Cloud thought he wouldn’t mind having her as his emperor. 

He thought about it for a moment, how he could possibly keep her safe while also adhering to her request. “Kalm doesn’t have an official hospital, just some doctors that travel from home to home. Right now, they’re probably taking the injured to the inn nearby since it’s the second largest building aside from the baron’s home…”

“Then we can head over there and I can help with the healing!” She grinned.

He couldn’t help but give a smile of his own as he nodded. “Exactly.”

Aerith giggled and let go of his hand—he immediately started to miss her touch—and pointed at the staircase. “Lead the way!”

***

He got one hell of an earful from Zack once they had made it down to the inn. Cloud ignored most of it, instead focusing on helping Aerith in whatever way he could: handing her bandages, needles, thread, holding down a stubborn patient or two. She was a surprisingly agile medic—she only used healing magic whenever it was necessary, such as to heal larger injuries or to stop bleeding quickly, otherwise she resorted to tried-and-true methods. Where she had learned these methods, he didn’t know, but it didn’t make him admire her any less.

The baron apologized profusely for ruining the royal’s date once everything had settled down, and both prince and princess told him it was alright. After one more “thank you” tea (the same one as earlier, judging by Aerith’s reaction to the taste) they set off to Midgar once more, just as the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon. 

Aerith had been relatively quiet during the ride back. Too quiet. Concerningly quiet. The curtains of the carriage were shut and there wasn’t a single sound coming from inside, which set off all sorts of alarms in Cloud’s head. 

“Your Highness, are you alright?” He tried calling, but there was no answer. She might’ve just been tired, sure, but after the fire and her strange reaction to the tea, his gut was telling him something else was going on. And he didn’t like it.

“Zack!” He shouted, not caring at that moment if the others stared at him weirdly for addressing the prince so casually.

The prince, who was leading the group again, turned around and guided his chocobo to the carriage “What’s up?” Zack asked, trotting in step with Cloud.

Cloud swallowed his pride, his worry for Aerith was much bigger than it. “Think you could check on Her Highness? She hasn’t said anything for a while, I’m starting to get worried.” Zack stared at him for a while, wide eyed without saying a word. “What?”

“Nothing,” Zack said, but Cloud didn’t miss the smirk on his lips. “Anyway, she’s probably just asleep; using magic takes a lot of energy as I’m sure you know. Just let her rest, I’m sure she’s fine.”

“Aren’t you worried about her?” Cloud failed to conceal his mild irritation.

“C’mon now, of course I am! I’m just saying she needs some time for herself; she didn’t just use a lot of magic, she also did a lot of physical effo-”

“Just check on her!”

“Okay, okay, yeesh!” Zack murmured to himself and ordered for the party to stop. He hopped off his bird and walked to the carriage, meanwhile Cloud did everything in his power to keep himself from checking on the princess himself. 

Zack stepped in, calling her name a couple times, before—Cloud assumed—moving closer to her as the door shut behind him. Tense seconds passed before the prince emerged again, a tight frown pulling on his lips, and Cloud felt his stomach drop. “She’s got a fever,” Zack said. “But not a bad one. I’ll stay with her for the rest of the ride. Cloud, you know the way back, right?”

Cloud knew exactly what the prince was about to suggest, and despite how vehemently he wanted to deny it, he still said, “Yeah.”

“Then I trust you to lead us back to Midgar. We move on your order,” Zack announced, then called for a servant he recognized from the castle’s medical wing to join him in the carriage, before shutting the door.

Cloud stared at the vehicle for a while, before clicking his tongue and trotting up to the front of the party. He gave the command to move as soon as he was ahead of everyone else, his chest too tight with anger and worry to spend even a second longer in those wastelands. That was two people he wanted to punch today—at least with Zack he could do it without getting in trouble.

 

Notes:

love me some (unknowingly) jealous cloud. hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 6: Midnight CheckUp

Notes:

a long one for you lovelies, I hope you enjoy!!!

Cloud frowned, his eyes scanning her body. Still dressed in her nightgown, her hair a mess, face red and puffy. “Your Highness…”

She sniffled and wiped some stray mucus from her nose, then smiled as if nothing was wrong and gave him a small wave. “Heya…” 

She hunched over and started coughing violently right after, making Cloud wince as he closed the distance between them, “Alright, you need to sit down,” he said, putting one hand on her back while taking one of her hands with the other.

“I-I’m fine, really,” she insisted as Cloud guided to her sofa, “See? I can walk!”

“With assistance,” Cloud pointed out. He set her down gently, taking a seat right beside her, and noticed the way in which she was leaning onto him. Then he noticed she was shaking. “And apparently you’re freezing, too.”

She sniffled again. “Just a stray breeze from the window.”

“All the windows are closed in here.”

“Such a party pooper,” Aerith pouted and stuck her tongue out at him, making him chuckle, “And speaking of parties…”

“You’re not thinking of going to that going-away party, are you..?”

“Don’t exactly have a choice, I’m afraid.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he did his best not to flinch. His body felt squirmy and his cheeks got incrementally hotter by the second, but he made sure he didn’t let his nerves show; it was perfectly normal for a lady to lean on her knight when she felt weak. It wasn’t weird, nor inappropriate—but then why was his heart beating so fast?

“I already missed the last party Shinra hosted, I can’t miss another one,” Aerith coughed, “Especially considering who the guest of honor is.”

“I’m sure Zack wouldn’t mind.”

“He wouldn’t, but I know someone else that would…”

The Emperor. Given Zack and Aerith’s relationship, he supposed it made sense that the Emperor would want them to be around each other as much as possible—to show that Gongaga and Midgar had a close and trusted bond. Were Aerith not to show up to Zack’s going away party, it might make the people think the relationship between the two monarchies was strained, that the princess was losing interest in the prince, and that the marriage might not go through. A simple absence could turn into a political disaster. Even so…

“Has your fever gone down at all since yesterday?” Cloud asked, recalling the way sweat furiously ran down her brow when Zack carried her back into the castle last night.

“Not really, no,” Aerith sighed, then shivered again, “But it’s fine!” She stood up with much more energy than she actually had and put her hands on her hips, “I’m a big girl, one stupid cold won’t get the best of meeee…” she groaned, falling back onto the couch she put a hand to her temple, “This headache might, though.”

“Has anyone from the medical wing come to see you?” He asked.

“Boy have they. Hojo just about pumped me full of meds,” Aerith groaned, moving her hand to the back of her neck, “Hurts here too…”

The movement caused her sleeve to slide back on her arm; his eyes widened as he saw all the green and purple marks riddled all over her forearm—to the point where it didn’t look like there was even one spot of her usual skin color. “Those bruises,” he said quietly.

She flinched and quickly covered her arm with her sleeve again. She wouldn’t look him in the eyes. “I… only meant it somewhat literally when I said that.”

He clenched his jaw and tightened his fists, a pointless effort to keep himself from marching to the “great doctor”s office at that very moment. How could they do that to her? A simple cold medicine would have been more than enough to heal her, there was no need to stick needles all over her skin. 

“Cloud.” He looked up at her, meeting her tired eyes and smile, “It’s okay.”

He scoffed, “No, it’s not.” He could hardly imagine how painful it must’ve been, and it hurt him to know that she hid her injuries from him—even worse that she acted like it wasn’t a big deal. How often had she been marred to such an extent that she was so used to being treated like this?

She giggled, her expression less dreary than it had been when he first arrived. “You’re getting bolder with your defiance.” Realization struck him that he had just completely and openly gone against the decision of the empire—which, normally, wouldn’t be too big of a deal in private quarters, except for- “Don’t worry, the birds aren’t here.”

“Oh,” he sighed.

“But really, it’s fine. Anywho,” she stood up again—Cloud let her change the topic, though he wasn’t very happy about it—with a lot more energy, “Hojo said the meds would take a couple hours to actually kick in, and honestly? I’m feeling much better than I was this morning,” she gave him a big grin, which made his heart skip a beat, “Maybe you were the catalyst!”

Again he ignored his reddening cheeks and put on a mask of (poorly hidden) nonchalance. “What’s on the agenda today, Princess?” He asked as he stood up.

“Wellll,” she hummed, tapping a finger to her chin, “The party starts at five, and it’s currently noon, which means the maids are probably gonna be here soon to help me get ready.” Noticing Cloud’s raised brow, she added, “They only come by for big events like these.”

Cloud couldn’t help but smile as he saw the pout forming on her mouth, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “In other words…”

“...Not a lot of time for anything else,” Aerith nodded with a defeated sigh, “Man, there was so much I wanted to do today, too.”

“Like…?”

“Like watering the flowers! I didn’t have time to water them before we left, yesterday and now look at them!” They didn’t look all that different to Cloud’s untrained eye. Maybe a little less vibrant, if anything. “My poor babies are almost completely withered!”

“We should probably take care of that before the maids get here then, right?”

“You read my mind! C’mon!” 

They took the watering cans out of the kitchenette and filled them up, and just as they were about to start watering the first few pots, there was a knock at the door.

The pair stopped in their tracks. “You’re kidding,” Aerith murmured, her face twisting into a mix of shock and annoyance, before saying, “Come in.”

Sure enough, a platoon of maids piled in with no regard to privacy as they marched systematically into the princess’ room. Some carried boxes, others bags, most of them trays with all kinds of essential oils, lotions, and makeup. One of them even had a tray of snacks.

“Princess Aerith,” said one of the maids as she approached the princess. An older lady, likely in her later years; she appeared to be the leader of the group, with how dignified and almighty she acted as she walked towards them. Her eyes looked down on Aerith through her nose, lips were pressed into a thin line of disgust and disinterest, her voice was stern as she spoke, “It’s time to prepare you for the festivities tonight.”

“The party doesn’t start until five hours from now,” Aerith shot back, chills running down Cloud’s spine at the tone of her voice. Her expression was neutral, shoulders rolled back, spine straight as a board, eyes sharp and narrow. He’d never seen her like this, so… cold. “I see no reason as to why we need to start preparing now.”

“It is imperative that we begin now, Princess,” the maid said, and Cloud could feel the venom in her tongue as her eyes scanned Aerith’s current state, “You know that this process always takes a long time, and it would seem that today it will take even longer.”

Cloud’s brow twitched, finding it hard to keep his cool. Such blatant disrespect would land her at least twenty years in jail—if not worse—if it were directed at the Emperor or his son. But because it was Aerith, a princess with seemingly no power, they could be as bold as they wanted. It wasn’t fair. 

What broke him was the way in which Aerith deflated: the quiet gasp that escaped her lips, her eyebrows pinching at her nose, the single step back that she took. He had enough. 

“Mind your manners around Her Highness,” he snarled, fearlessly putting a protective arm in front of Aerith.

“Cloud!” He knew what Aerith was worried about, but at that moment he, frankly, didn’t care.

The maid acknowledged him for the first time since her arrival, eyeing him with annoyance, before turning back to Aerith. “Your Highness.”

A step forward, in theory. Aerith looked at her flowers, a small pout on her lips. “Very well,” she sighed, then turned to Cloud with a smile, that cold demeanor completely gone, “Since I’m gonna be holed up in my room for a lot of hours, feel free to read, or train, or… uh, well…”

“I’ll take care of watering the plants,” he smiled, those slight smiles of his only she would pick up.

She exhaled softly, her shoulders finally relaxing. “Thank you,” she said, “I’ll see you in a couple hours, okay?”

“See you then, Your Highness.” 

Aerith gave him one last, sweet smile before retreating to her bedchambers; the maid eyed him again, this time with disdain, before turning to follow after Aerith. As soon as that door shut, Cloud was left all by himself.

And standing there, surrounded only by walls and furniture, with the sun’s rays raining down through window panes, he realized just how dreadfully lonely this tower was. 

It was only the quiet murmurs of the maids in the next room that reminded him he wasn’t entirely alone, the only things that kept him from drowning entirely. 

He heaved a shaky sigh, ignoring the chills that ran down his spine as he grabbed his watering can and filled it up. 

He’d gotten a bit better at naming the flowers since the last time he did this: lilies, peonies, poppies, one that started with an “C” that he could not for the life of him pronounce the name of. Watering them was still somewhat tricky— watch the soil, he kept reminding himself—but he took his time and went about it very carefully until he was satisfied. And he hoped Aerith would be satisfied too, he’d hate to be the one that ruins her carefully tended-to garden due to his lack of expertise. The buds looked brighter almost immediately after being watered, though, so surely that was a good sign.

He missed her.

Curse him for admitting him, but her voice and laughter resonated in his head and it hurt to not hear it. He missed her smile, her eyes, her presence. How pathetic.

He couldn’t distinguish her voice from the maids’ chatter, he couldn’t even tell if she was speaking at all. Was she alright? Had they done something to her? From the way she acted earlier, Aerith didn’t seem to have a good history with the castle’s maids—and he couldn’t blame her seeing as how that one treated her. Part of him wanted to barge in just to make sure she was safe—but Odin forbid she was in less than decent clothing. 

The thought made his cheeks heat up, and he quickly shook it out. He continued to water the plants, slowly— very slowly—and meticulously, for close to an hour. Once he was done, he put all the equipment back and turned to face the empty room he found himself in. The maid’s chatter had grown mildly louder, albeit not for good reasons; they sounded annoyed and frustrated, uttering complaints about the princess’ appearance.

Cloud gripped the handle of his sword tightly and walked towards a small shelf near the door to Aerith’s bedroom, which was full of books; each with unique covers and whose target audience did not appear to be anyone over the age of ten. Some old trash, he figured. He picked a random one (Aerith said he could read… she was probably fine with him taking one of her books) and stationed himself beside the door, making sure to loudly bump his back against the wall. The chatter dimmed after that. 

Each book was less than a hundred pages long; most of them had entire pages of just pictures, which allowed for Cloud to get through them quite fast. He knocked down two by the first hour, then three, four, five…

He was going insane. 

Cloud didn’t mind being on his own—in fact, he dare say he preferred it on some occasions—but the silence, so loud and melancholic, was making him lightheaded. Something about the nearly all-white room felt debilitating; Aerith’s touches—the flowers, curtains, even that very shelf—were its only saving grace. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like if none of her decorations were there, nor did he want to.

The sky had turned hues of oranges and pinks by the time a maid finally walked out of the room. Cloud nearly dropped the tenth book of that day, clambering into position while hiding the book behind his back. 

The rest of the platoon followed after, leaving the sitting room without saying a word, until the last maid—the same one from earlier—came out at the end of the line. She looked at Cloud, expressionless, and with an authoritative tone said, “The Princess is ready. You will wait for Prince Zack to arrive then report to the ballroom.”

“I know that,” he spat back, not caring to be looked down on by her of all people.

She scowled. “Well then, good day.”

Cloud rolled his eyes as she left, his attention immediately shifting to the door beside him. Aerith hadn’t come out, sparking his worry, so he softly knocked, “Your Highness?”

“Just a minute!” His heart skipped at the sound of her voice, bright and wonderful like it always was. She sounded okay, at the very least.

Cloud put the book back on the shelf then walked to the main door, and stood there waiting for either Zack to arrive and for Aerith to come out of her room. He impatiently hoped the latter happened first.

The bedchamber door clicked open, and Cloud felt his breath get stolen away as his princess stepped out. She wore a floor-length white gown with a chapel train following behind it, loose sleeves hung from below her shoulders and into a shallow v-neckline. The only color came from the deep raspberry silk that emerged from her corset and joined with the train and the ribbons decorating her neckline and shoulders of the same color. Part of her hair was tied back in its usual style, decorated with her usual ribbon, and the edition of a gold and emerald tiara that connected to the circlet around her forehead. Pearls and gold decorated her neck and wrists—the bruises on her arms completely gone, somehow; her makeup was simple: a touch of peach to her lips and eyes, and a light blush on her cheeks.

She was ethereal in the same way the sunset just beyond those windows was, a peace that washed gently over him. She was the sunrise that would come in several hours and enticed him to look forward to the day to come. She was light.

Cloud found it hard to say a word as she approached him, the shy smile on her lips too much for his heart to handle. “Heya,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back.

Every lesson in manners evaporated from his head. Again. “That’s…”

“Yeah,” Aerith chuckled awkwardly, looking down at herself as she lightly twirled, twirling Cloud’s heart along with the train of her skirt. “Shinra chose this, if you can’t tell. They’re not being very subtle with their hints.”

Which is why she looks like a bride, Cloud thought, his cheeks deepening in color as he imagined it. The follow up to that thought—that she wouldn’t be walking down the aisle to meet him—sent a pang across his chest and broke the illusion. “You look wonderful, Your Highness,” he said genuinely, slowly regaining his composure.

“Why thank you,” Aerith giggled.

Against his better judgement (frankly, he didn’t care if it got him in trouble), he said, “You… you must be pretty sad that,” he gulped, “your fiance is leaving, right? It’ll probably be a while before he comes back.”

Her reaction surprised him: she didn’t seem angry or annoyed vexed, like he expected; if anything she seemed… confused? “My fiance? You mean Zack?”

He raised a brow. “Y-Yeah.” Who else would it be?”

She blinked a couple times then looked at the windows, a finger coming up to her chin as she murmured, “He’s more tight-lipped than I thought.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, still bewildered at the fact she seemed clueless as to who her fiance was.

“Zack and I aren’t engaged.”

What. “What?” He said, perplexed.

“He and I aren’t actually engaged,” she repeated, as if it was no big deal.

Cloud still couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. “But… but he calls you his fiance all the time.”

Her smile turned mischievous. “Have you noticed when and where he does it, though?” When and where? That didn’t seem particularly helpful in figuring out whatever mystery those two had between them. 

“Regardless, as you can see,” she raised her left hand, “No ring. Word of mouth doesn’t mean anything in the high court—there has to be some kind of official documentation of an engagement for it to actually mean anything, which in this case would be a ring on this fourth finger right here. And so, no ring means no official engagement. By law, I am an entirely single lady.”

He didn’t understand a word that came out of her mouth, and before he could ask further, there was a knock at the door. 

“And speak of the devil,” Aerith giggled, and Cloud begrudgingly turned and opened the door. 

Zack waltzed in without a second thought, his azure cape trailing behind him as he walked up to Aerith and took her hands in his. “Aerith! You look absolutely beautiful! Even more so than usual.”

Cloud held back a groan. “Thank you,” Aerith smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes, “You look great as well.”

“Aw shucks,” Zack grinned as he scratched the back of his head. He turned to Cloud, “I’ve got it from here, buddy. Don’t ya worry, I’ll keep our princess safe!”

“Right,” Cloud frowned. He looked at Aerith, who gave him a wink and a grin, then back at Zack, then sighed. He bowed at the waist, “Then I hope you enjoy the evening, Your Highnesses. Please excuse me.”

“See you later, Cloud,” He heard Aerith said as he closed the door behind him, making him pause. His shift would be over by the time the party was, Zack was supposed to be the one to escort her back to her room. Maybe she meant she would see him at the party—he was supposed to remain stationed close to her, but not close enough where he would actually be able to do a damn thing should she be in any immediate danger. 

Regardless, his mind was still stuck on the engagement. Zack had told him multiple times that he and Aerith were engaged, and he’s always acted like the two were the loveliest couple around since Cloud’s known him. What did she mean that they weren’t really engaged?

And why the hell did he feel so relieved?!

The ballroom was as richly and disgustingly decorated as always, as were the nobles and their snobbish mouths. Cloud stationed himself by a column near the staircase. The Emperor and Prince Rufus made their appearance, stopping at the joint staircase as Zack and Aerith emerged, waving at the crowd before them. 

When the pair met with the Emperor and the Prince, they bowed down deeply—to the point Cloud wouldn’t doubt Aerith had entirely touched the floor with her knees in curtsy—before the Emperor finally acknowledged them and allowed them to rise. There was a smug grin on his old and grisly face as the four royals descended to the ballroom floor, surrounded by applause and cheer. He met Aerith’s eyes for a second, his cheeks reddening at the smile she gave him, before she looked back at the crowd. 

The band started playing a waltz, and he watched as Zack guided Aerith onto the dancefloor and deftly embarrassed himself. The guy had never been a good dancer from the couple of times Cloud had seen him dance, he always went either way too fast or way too slow. In this case, he was going much faster than the tempo of the song, spinning Aerith around and around and around. Cloud couldn’t help but feel bad for her as her skintone got noticeably greener once the dance was over. 

Terrible dancing aside, the two of them made the perfect couple. They carried themselves with so much elegance and grace; Zack’s cheerfulness complemented Aerith’s calmer tones, and if anything he made her light brighter. He wondered again: how could it possibly be an act?

The pair walked to the Shinras once they were done, and once again had to bow so incredibly deeply until they were acknowledged. The smugness on the Emperor’s face as he glared down at Aerith ignited a deep anger within Cloud, and the want to keep her safe from him only grew.

He moved closer, only enough to hear their conversation. “What a fantastic waltz, you two,” The Emperor said with his false smile, “Truly, I am impressed.”

“Please, Her Highness here was the only good part of it,” Zack said as he looked at Aerith, putting a hand on top of hers—which was wrapped around his bicep, “I fear my dancing has grown sloppy.”

“Well, there is always room for improvement. After all, we wouldn’t ‘sloppy dancing,’ as you say, for a future occasion, would we?” 

A not so subtle hint, Cloud figured, with some added mockery. Just like the Emperor he knew. Zack managed to play it cool, “But of course. And believe me, once I have secured the throne in Gongaga, I will hold the grandest wedding for my dearest Aerith!” 

Cloud didn’t know what he meant by securing the throne in Gongaga—Zack didn’t have any siblings—and he didn’t have time to think about it either as Zack kissed Aerith’s cheek, eliciting a giggle from her and inexplicable rage from him. “Please, Zack,” she grinned, and there was certain annoyance in her eyes—though not her tone—as she added, “You’re too much.”

“You deserve only the best,” the prince insisted.

“Aerith.” Prince Rufus approached her, a glass of wine in his hands that he presented to Aerith, and immediately the alarms started blaring in Cloud’s head. “You must be thirsty after that. Here, have this and refresh yourself.” 

Prince Rufus was a cold and calculating individual, his methods of cruelty were more subtle than his father’s, though they hadn’t reached the latter’s extent just yet. Whatever was in that wine was undoubtedly nothing good.

And Aerith seemed to know so as well, judging by the way she discreetly eyed the wine as she accepted it from his hand. “Thank you, cousin,” she said, and everything within him was begging her not to drink that wine. But he knew both of them were helpless to stop this, and he watched painfully as she took a sip.

She tried to hide it, and to the untrained eye she did so perfectly, but he knew better. She had the same reaction to that wine as the tea from yesterday.

“Ah, that’s right, Princess. I heard you fell ill after yesterday’s excursion,” The Emperor suddenly said.

Aerith nodded, “That’s right, but I am feeling much better thanks to Your Majesty’s and Doctor Hojo’s great efforts.”

“As glad as I am to hear that, perhaps it is for the best that you rest,” The Emperor’s eyes turned malicious as he looked down on her, “It would be simply terrible if your condition were to worsen.”

For the first time that night, the smile on Aerith’s face disappeared, replaced by a look he hadn’t seen on her before: pure, genuine anger. 

It only lasted for a second, less than that even, and her fake smile returned. “Then, if you would, please allow me to retire for the evening,” she said.

“But of course. Have your personal guard escort you, I’m afraid there is still much I need to discuss with Prince Zack before he leaves.”

She separated from Zack and curtsied. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I wish you all a wonderful rest of the evening.”

“Aerith!” Zack grabbed her hand and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, “See you tomorrow?”

Aerith nodded. “See you tomorrow, Zack.” 

He let go of her, and her eyes immediately drifted to Cloud’s. Lightheadedness struck him when her smile turned genuine, then he came back to reality when she nodded her head at the main entrance to the ballroom. He followed after her, eyeing the Shinras as he walked past them. They acted like she hadn’t been there in the first place, like their memory of her had been completely erased. 

Once they were away from prying eyes, Aerith gave a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. Cloud frowned as he approached her, “Did they just…?”

“Kick me out?” She sighed again, a tired smile on her face, “Yep. That’s usually how these things go: I show up, talk with a couple nobles or dance with Zack, then the Emperor not-so-subtly tells me to leave with the excuse of my poor health. It’s either that,” she turned to him, “Or I don’t show up at all.”

Like last time. “...That’s not fair. You were in there for less than an hour.”

“Maybe. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t realize Zack can be quite the chatterbox,” she winked, then continued the walk back to her room.

“I see,” Cloud said, realizing the Emperor probably didn’t want her gathering any sort of info regarding the empire or his plans. 

That said, her bringing up Zack made him remember the other… thing that involved him. He desperately wanted to ask her to clarify—the anticipation was killing him—but who was he to demand answers from her? He almost wished she hadn’t told him anything at all. Better yet, he wished he hadn’t said anything in the first place.

When they arrived in her room, Aerith retreated into her bedchambers for a short while, then came back out with a small water basin and a towel. She sat on the sofa, and Cloud’s cheeks reddened as he watched her take off all her jewelry, prompting him to look away. 

“This thing is so heavy,” Aerith huffed as she took off her tiara and placed it on the tea table. She grabbed the towel and dipped it in the water, then started to harshly scrub her other arm. It only took a couple wipes for the bruises to appear again, still as purple as the last time he saw them, making him frown.

So they hadn’t healed her at all, they’d just hidden the truth behind some makeup. She winced as she scrubbed, rubbing harder on the areas where the makeup wouldn’t come off. She was frustrated, angry, and who could blame her after all that happened today. She tried to hide it all behind a smile, and in a way she still was—her lips were tightened into a thin line.

He approached her carefully, kneeling before her. She stared at him, wide eyed, as he held his hand out to her. The tenderness in his eyes and the softness in his voice did something to her heart as he said, “If I may, Your Highness.”

She looked at his hand, then at hers, then slowly placed the towel on his hand; he gave her hand a light squeeze and lingered on it for longer than was necessary before taking the towel. He held out his other hand and she placed hers on it, the leather of his glove sending shivers down her spine. His movements were more automatic than before, but he still treated her carefully as he wiped down her arms.

“Forgive me if I’m stepping out of line, my lady,” he said, knowing full well he was, “But…you should be more gentle with yourself.”

A soft laugh left her lips; he looked up at her shyly, cheeks red, and met her beautiful verdant eyes that were so full of joy. “You might be right,” she said. There was a playfulness in her eyes as she leaned closer to him, “So, wanna hear more about Zack and I’s… arrangement?”

He could hide his interest as hard as he could, but Aerith could still see the way his eyes widened at the mention of the topic. “O-Only if you want to,” he said, ears perked up.

So cute. “Well, it’s like I said: he and I aren’t actually engaged, and we have no plans to actually get engaged. We just sorta pretend we are for the sake of word of mouth.”

“But why?” Cloud asked, a bit too quickly.

“So that Emperor thinks that he will, eventually, propose. And, more importantly,” she looked at the night sky, “To keep Zack and Gongaga safe.”

“Safe from… the Emperor?”

Aerith nodded, “It was around five years ago, just before Zack left for Nibelheim…”

She watched the knights gather their things and put them in carriages, while others lined up in troops with their commanders. She had only come to say goodbye to Zack, wish him well; the two of them had become fast friends ever since he first arrived from Gongaga just a short year ago. He’d managed to become a SOLDIER faster than most thanks to his status as a prince, but the title wasn’t just for show: he took the job quite seriously, hence why he was joining the operation to take control of the Nibel region out west.

Not that she wanted that to happen in the first place, but she was helpless to stop it—a fact that would haunt her for the rest of her life, she thinks. She had, at least, hoped that Shinra would take a peaceful approach, to avoid as much bloodshed as possible.

She didn’t expect to see hundreds, perhaps thousands, of soldiers lined up to siege a tiny village. Something was wrong here, very wrong.

“Princess Aerith!”

Zack spotted her and started to run up to her, and at the sound of his voice alerted the knights around him. The look in their eyes was morbid and hungry, as if the prince was their prey, and suddenly everything made sense.

She checked her surroundings for birds then turned to Zack with a smile, “Prince Zack, it’s wonderful to see you.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Zack asked.

“I was hoping to talk to you before you left, do you mind?”

“Not at all, what’s going on?”

She stepped closer to him, checking for birds one last time before shedding the “clueless princess” mask. “You have to be careful in this upcoming mission.”

“Huh?!” Perplexed by the sudden shift in her tone, Zack scratched the back of his head, “O-Oh, I mean, of course I will. It’d be bad if I came back all beat up, right?”

“I’m serious, Zack,” Aerith implored, “I’ve got a feeling something bad is going to happen. Think about it, really hard.”

He tried his best. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Aerith sighed. “Have you noticed the way these soldiers are looking at you?”

He was smart enough to be discreet about it, at least. “...like I’m some kind of price.”

She nodded. “Now tell me: why in the world would Shinra send out this many soldiers out to the Nibel region, which only has one major village with less than a hundred people in it and doesn’t even have a proper military?”

She could see the realization dawning on him by the clenching of his jaw and fists. “Because they’re expecting a bigger fight,” he groaned, “They’re gonna kill me, aren’t they? Pretend it was an accident, but make it suspicious enough that my parents will retaliate. Gongaga’s military is bigger than Nibelheim's, and we’d still get crushed if a war started between us and Midgar. They… they’re planning on conquering Nibel and Gongaga in one fell swoop.”

The pain in his eyes made her chest tighten, but she nodded, “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking as well.”

“I can’t believe this,” Zack huffed, pacing around in a circle. His back was turned to her when he asked, “You think Sephiroth is in on this?”

The mention of him gave her goosebumps. She would never tell anyone, but she had come looking for him as well, at least to get a glance of him. “I don’t know.”

“Well if he is, I doubt I’d have much of a chance,” he sighed, facing her again, “Here I was, thinking this would just be a diplomatic mission with maybe a bit of fighting. I’m… still so naive, aren’t I?”

Gently, Aerith took one of his hands in both of hers and gave them a light squeeze. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, Shinra’s an expert at hiding his dirty laundry.”

“What should I do?” He wondered, squeezing her hand back. “I can’t back out now, and I doubt I can just hide once we’re out there either.”

He was right, it’d be hard for him to remain completely safe from Shinra’s grasp. Even if he managed to outwit the military in Nibelheim, who's to say Shinra wouldn’t just try again?

An idea popped into her head, one so ridiculous she doubted it would work given the Emperor’s nature, but it was the only one she had. “Propose to me.”

Zack blinked. “What?!”

“If a marriage between us happened, Shinra would get the benefits he seeks from Gongaga for basically free, no bloodshed and no—and this is targeting Shinra specifically—lots of money spent necessary. You’d be safe, so long as the marriage does go through.” 

There was another part to the plan that would entice Shinra more: they’d be getting rid of Aerith’s claim to the throne.

Zack raised a hand to his chin, nodding. “That’s… not a bad idea. But, uh…”

“I know, I know, you’re not the marriage type. Which is why, at least for now, you only need to promise to propose to me. Get the word going, have Shinra think you will, and he might just cancel his plans.”

“And how long do we have to keep this going, exactly? ‘Cause I don’t think he’ll buy it after the first year.”

“Until I can come up with another plan.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“It’s the best we’ve got. For now,” she looked at the knights watching them, “kiss my cheek, that should be enough to get the rumors going. Once you come back, we’ll have to act a little more… couple-y.”

“Right. Well then,” he leaned down and pressed a sweet, tender kiss to her cheek, then raised her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles and whispered, “I trust you,” then, louder, “My dearest princess.”

She smiled, whispering, “You’re a good actor.”

“I try my best.”

“Farewell, my dear prince, I shall await your return,” she announced loudly. Zack nodded then turned to leave, making sure to let his gaze on her linger before he left. She wasn’t particularly attracted to the prince, but the action did make her stomach flutter. 

Out of the corner of her eye, a trace of silver hair appeared, and the goosebumps returned. “Sephiroth…”

She didn’t include that last part. “Honestly, it’s a miracle the plan has worked for five whole years,” she said, “I’m convinced the only reason it has worked for so long is because of the explosion of the outpost in Gongaga three years ago. It claimed a lot of lives, and Zack had to return to Gongaga for a while to help with the damages; Shinra’s found it hard to deny him anything or pressure him into doing something since then, since the explosion was technically the empire’s fault due to a lack of maintenance.”

She looked at Cloud to try to garner his reaction, only to find him staring at her, eyes wide and shaking. His lips trembled, his limbs were stiff, his breathing was shallow. It was just like they were back at the clocktower.

“Cloud?” she called, taking his hands in hers as concern washed over her. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up—” she stopped herself, unsure if she should even mention the name out of fear it would worsen his condition.

He shook his head and shut his eyes tightly. She was glad to know he was conscious enough to respond to her, at least. “No, no, it’s not that,” he looked at her, and the sadness in his eyes broke her heart, “Zack… he was in Nibelheim five years ago? Working for Shinra?”

Her blood went cold. He didn’t know. “Cloud,” she said softly, unsure of what else she could possibly say to make this better. She didn’t know why Zack had hidden this from him, it was only a matter of time before he found out. Just like…

A knock at the door snapped the two of them out of their thoughts. “Your Highness, it’s Hojo,” came the doctor’s voice from the other side.

Aerith let go of Cloud’s hands and he found it hard to breathe without her hands holding him. He had a job to do and no time to dwell on his personal feelings, though, and he got up and walked to the door. The doctor’s late visit didn’t sit well with him; he wasn’t going to let Hojo hurt her, not again.

“Come in,” Aerith said, and Cloud opened the door. 

“Good evening, princess,” Hojo said as he entered, a paper napkin in his hand, “I’ve come with your medicine.”

Cloud saw the anger in Aerith’s eyes again. “I’ve no need of it,” Aerith insisted, “I’m feeling much better already.”

“It is imperative that you take this, unless you want your symptoms to return, of course,” Hojo’s tone grew harsher.

“And I am telling you that I don’t need it.”

The doctor groaned. “I don’t have time for this. Here,” he shoved the napkin into Cloud’s hands, “Make sure she takes this before you leave tonight.” 

Hojo glanced back at Aerith, noticing the way in which her stubborn nature cracked, and smiled as he left the room. Took everything within Cloud not to strangle him. “Your Grace,” Cloud called boldly, checking the small green pill in the napkin.

Hojo stopped in his tracks, glaring at the knight. “Yes?”

“May I ask what this medicine is for? It doesn’t look like the usual cold medicine that’s given at the castle.”

Silence. He heard Aerith gasp softly behind him, and he could imagine why, but he didn’t care, not anymore. Not even Hojo’s glare was enough to scare him now.

Eventually, Hojo answered, “It is cold medicine. An Ancient’s body is different from us regular humans’, therefore we must treat it differently as well.” Cloud raised a brow, an Ancient? “Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t have time to waste on trivial conversation.”

Cloud waited until the doctor had walked a couple of stairs down before shutting the door, then he looked back at the pill in his hands. Ancients… he recalled hearing about them. Shinra had taken one of their poems and made it his empire’s entire slogan: We who are born of the planet, with her we speak. Her flesh we shape. Unto her promised land shall we one day return. By her loving grace and providence may we take our place in paradise.  

Finding the “Promised Land,” a place rich with mako, was his goal. 

And Aerith… she was an Ancient. 

Everything made sense then; the way she was treated, the place she was held, the birds, the maids. The Emperor was keeping her trapped, he was going to use her as a way to get to the Promised Land.

He swallowed the pill.

“Cloud!” Aerith gasped, rising out of her seat and running towards him. She cupped his face in her hands, gently caressing his cheeks with her thumb. The hateful, burning heat within him cooled with her touch, the concern in her eyes washing over him like waves. “Why did you do that?”

“This pill,” he began, leaning into her hand, “it was in the wine you drank earlier, wasn’t it? And the tea from yesterday, too, right? What is it?” And why do you keep taking it? He wanted to ask, but couldn’t. Not when tears lined her eyes like that, not when he knew she had no other choice.

“…I don’t know,” she answered honestly, her voice so small and fragile, “I’ve taken it since I was little, whether in the form of a pill or…” she glanced at her arms and Cloud felt the heat burn again. “It always makes me feel awful, like I have a worse version of a cold. But… it doesn’t seem to have an effect on regular people.”

“Only on Ancients?”

“Cetra,” she corrected, “They’re widely known as Ancients, but my people called themselves the Cetra.”

Cloud nodded. “Hojo said your body was different from humans, do you know how? Maybe that’s why they’re giving you these medicines.”

She shook her head. “I wish I did, but no. All I do know is that whatever that difference is is what allows me to use magic without materia.” She moved her hands from his face—how he wished he could hold them willingly—and looked at them, clenching them into fists. “There’s so much I don’t know.”

The sadness in her eyes made his mouth sour, his eyes burn. Carefully, he reached out to touch her shoulder. “Princess…”

The grandfather clock rang. The end of his shift. 

Aerith sniffled, hiding her thoughts behind a smile as she looked at Cloud. “Looks like it’s time.”

“I can stay a little longer,” he said, stepping closer to her.

She giggled and shook her head, “You’ve already gotten yourself in a lot of trouble, mister,” she teasingly poked his nose, “Don’t wanna make it worse, do we?”

“I don’t mind,” was his immediate answer.

Her eyes widened for a moment before going back to her sad smile. “Well I do, and it would only make me feel worse if you got in more trouble because of me.” He really didn’t care. She was always thinking of others before herself—all the more reason for him to want to stay with her. “Oh, and if Hojo asks you, just tell him the pill made me feel feverish.” 

Right. That bastard. “Okay,” he mumbled, defeated as he bowed, “I’ll see you tomorrow, my lady. Have a good night.”

“See you tomorrow, Cloud. Bright and early, remember?”

Right, the other bastard was leaving tomorrow morning. “Of course.”

“Cloud? Don’t be too mad at him, I’m sure he had his reasons for not saying anything.”

Reasons he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear. “I’ll try.”

She chuckled, “Guess I’ll take that.”

He couldn’t help but smile, then bowed one last time before leaving. There was so much going on in his mind—the fake engagement, Zack being in Nibelheim five years ago, Hojo, the medicine. Aerith. He hardly paid any attention to anything Hojo might’ve said as he gave the doctor the report of the princess’ day, though he did notice the newfound contempt in the doctor’s eyes as he looked at Cloud. 

Was Aerith alright? He paused as exited the castle’s main building. She said those medicines gave her fevers, and it’d been close to an hour since he left her room. It was likely that side effects from the wine had set in by now, right? She’d be just like she was that morning, and he hated the thought.

An idea. A crazy and stupid one for sure, but after everything from today? He’d only feel okay after following through with it. 

He ran to the stables, grabbed his bird, tipped Billy, then set off to Sector 7. The streets were shockingly busy, making it hard for him to navigate them and longer for him to reach his destination. 

He reached Outer Sector 7, finally, and guided his bird to the nearest clinic. It was a trusted one, he’d gone there plenty of times during his squirehood to get treated whenever he got sick. 

The doctor was reliable, more so than the Inner Midgar ones, in his humble opinion, which he supposed was why there was such a long line to meet him. It would take hours to get what he needed—Aerith would definitely be asleep by the time he got back—but he would do it anyway. 

He could see Seventh Heaven in the distance. It’d been two days since he last talked to Tifa; he should probably check in on her after he was done, make sure she was doing okay with the new job. He should, really should, but Aerith was waiting for him.

After a solid three agonizing hours of waiting, it was finally his turn. He asked for cold medicine for a friend, which they (thankfully) prepared quickly for him. He thanked them and paid, and he was just about to leave when he realized: how the hell was he going to get this to Aerith? It was the middle of the night, he was off his shift, and there would surely be guards at her door. 

Another idea, probably just as crazy. He turned to the doctor and asked, “Excuse me, do you have a pen and paper I could borrow?”

***

Sure enough, there were two guards standing at the door to Aerith’s tower (he doubted they were there for her safety, though). He took a deep breath, clutching the neatly folded paper in his hands. Here goes nothing.

He approached the two guards casually, while the two eyed him suspiciously. “Good evening,” he said, then held out the paper, “I come with a message for Her Highness, from Prince Zack.”

“In the middle of the night?” The one on the right asked, snatching the paper from Cloud’s hand as he read it over. 

He shrugged. “Couples are strange.”

“They certainly are,” the left one sighed, eyeing the paper over his peer’s shoulder. Cloud had written something pretty vanilla on it (I love you! I can’t wait to marry you! And then Zack’s poorly recreated signature), so if anything it should help the story those two were pushing. “Alright, you can go.”

“Shouldn’t we deliver this?” 

“Do you feel like climbing all those stairs?”

“Fair point.” The guard handed the letter back to Cloud and stepped away from the door, going so far as to open it for him. Didn’t even check him. These guys were terrible at their jobs.

“Thanks,” Cloud nodded at them and made his way up, trying not to rush while also going up two steps at a time.

He reached her door and, still heaving, knocked. When no response came, he felt guilt rumble in his gut as he knocked again, a little louder this time. She was definitely sleeping.

He heard some noise coming from inside, and he stopped in the middle of his knocking. Some stumbling a bit of groaning later, the door clicked open and Aerith peered through the crack, eyes barely open. “Whooo…?” Her voice was low, but immediately changed in pitch when she fully opened her eyes and saw who was there. “Cloud?! What are you doing here?!”

“A-Apologies, Your Highness,” he fumbled through his pockets, barely able to focus on anything other than the sound of her voice. He finally found the bottle of pills and held it out to her, his cheeks red, “But… I wanted you to have this.”

Aerith stared at his hand, opening the door wider and giving him a good look at her condition. She was dressed in a fine pink nightgown, her hair was a loose mess, but… she didn’t seem terribly ill. Her cheeks were a little flushed, so maybe a mild fever? Maybe the dosage of medicine in that wine wasn’t high, which is why Hojo wanted to give her a pill. Maybe, just maybe, he over exaggerated this entire situation.

She hummed. “This is…?”

“Um,” he looked away from her, “cold medicine.” Her jaw dropping didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed. “Y-You don’t have to take it! I-I mean, you seem fine, a-and who knows if it might have some kind of chemical reaction with the medicine from earlier, a…and…”

She burst out laughing, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into a hole. Despite his ridiculous explanation, she took the bottle from his hand—and as she did that, she moved closer to him, stood on her tippy toes, and kissed his cheek. He froze.

“Thank you, Cloud, really,” she grinned brightly when she moved away, and he couldn’t look away. She retreated back to her room, still smiling widely as she looked at him through the half-closed door, “Now seriously, go! I better not hear that you got into more trouble, okay?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am,” Cloud said, barely able to hear himself over the beating of his heart.

She giggled again and waved goodbye before shutting the door, and he could hear her scurrying back to bed.

Cloud, meanwhile, couldn't move an inch of his body with the unbearable pain coming from his chest. His heart was beating so hard and so fast he couldn’t focus on anything other than that. And yet, as painful as it was, it was a pain he didn’t mind. The heat from earlier was back, stronger than before, actually, and that, too, was pleasant. He didn’t know what was happening to him, and he didn’t know why he was willing to let it take over him.

Maybe that pill did cause some side effects in humans, which, if that was the case, he didn’t mind whatever it was.

Chapter 7: The Language of Nature (1)

Notes:

Two parter, woo!! hopefully the next part should be out soon, originally this was meant to be one chapter but it just felt right to split it.

also, funny story. When I originally designed Cloud for this story he didn't have a ponytail. and then I saw rebirth mods of cloud with a ponytail. he has a ponytail now (this will be important later).

double also, not to plug or anything but if u wanna see art of these guys (specifically relating to this au), feel free to check out my twitter! robboyu

anyway, I hope you guys enjoy!

The leafless trees sung quietly, giggling amongst themselves as they watched them pass. The young princess tried her hardest to understand them, but they were just too quiet, too muffled. Mother said she’d get better at hearing them when she was older and had more practice, but she really wanted to know what they were saying now! 

She plopped back into her seat beside her mother, who tenderly ran a hand through her brown curls. “Mommy, how much longer until we get there?” She asked, staring at green eyes that matched hers.

Empress Ifalna, a benevolent soul, pressed a kiss on her daughter’s cheek. “Only a little while longer, sweetie.” She looked out into the white, snowy fields and hummed, “As a matter of fact…” She reached into her pocket and took out a small, leather bag and presented it to the young princess. “I want you to have this, for when we get there.”

The young princess carefully took the bag and peered inside it, gasping at the bright white orb that laid there. “A materia?”

Ifalna nodded. “It’s been passed down by our ancestors for thousands of years,” she explained, “legend says that it’s a key, so be very careful not to lose it, okay?”

“Woah,” the girl awed, “What’s it a key for?”

“You’ll find out once we get there,” Ifalna said, chuckling at Aerith’s pout.

“Should you really be giving it to her now, dear?” The princess’ father, Emperor Gast, asked from the seat across from them, “She’s still far too young to—”

“Gast!” Ifalna shushed, giving her husband a playful glare, “You’ll spoil the surprise!”

Gast gasped and covered his mouth with his hands, making the young princess giggle. “Pardon me! Still, it’ll be a while before we head to the Forgotten Capital, we’ve got to check what’s going on with the Valentines first.”

“The reports were rather troubling, do you think Vincent is alright?” Ifalna said.

“I certainly hope so,” Gast sighed. “But let’s not talk about such boring topics,” He carefully stood up—their carriage had just begun moving up a rather unsteady mountain—and sat beside his child, “Just like your Mother said, you have to make sure not to lose that materia, okay?”

“I promise I’ll keep it safe!” The princess nodded.

“Good,” Gast smiled, “And I know just how you can do that!” It was his turn to reach into his pockets, and out he took a vibrant, vermillion ribbon with gold trims around the ends.

“It’s so pretty!” 

“Think of it as an early present for your eighth birthday,” Gast winked, his thick mustache curling up as his grin grew, “Turn around, now.”

The young princess giggled and faced her mother, feeling as her father undid the ribbon that was currently holding her hair up. He handled her curls carefully and tenderly, tying them up into a ponytail with her new ribbon. “Hand me the materia for a moment,” he said, and she did so, knowing she could trust him, and wondered what he was doing as he placed something hard against her scalp. “There!”

She felt around the back of her head, only to come across a large bump covered in fabric. “Did you put the materia inside the ribbon?”

“Indeed,” Gast said, pressing a kiss against his daughter’s head, “That way you can always carry it with you wherever you go and everyone will be none the wiser.”

“I bet it looks silly.”

Ifalna burst out laughing while Gast let out a sigh of faux hurt. The young princess giggled, but she understood what her father was saying. She could hear the materia, the gentle and kind voices that came from it; they were comforting, as if singing her a lullaby just before she went to sleep. She loved it, loved it and the ribbon—two gifts that meant the world to her, and she would do everything in her power to keep them safe.

She looked back at her father, at the smile on his face. She saw the shiny glint of an arrow in the distance, and felt the splatter of warm, crimson blood on her face just seconds later.

“AERITH!”

Her eyes shot open, blinded by the dim light illuminating her room. She didn’t scream, didn’t jump or flail or sweat. These dreams were something she was used to, just as she was used to staring at the circular, peach-colored canopy above her. Just as she was used to the sound of the rain hitting the thick, vertical, metal frames of her window. Just as she was used to the tears that rolled down her temples.

She was used to the ripping of her heart, muscle fiber by muscle fiber. The stabbing against her skull, piercing the deepest memories that she selfishly wished to forget. The trembling of her body, shaking in the same way it did that day. 

She was used to it, knowing that they weren’t really gone, and at this point in her life she should be over it. But sometimes, it was all just too much.

“Stupid wine,” she sobbed, “Stupid tea. Stupid meds.” She curled into herself, hugging her knees to her chest, pressing as hard as she could. 

The sound of the rain was so loud, nonstop timpanis drumming around her, drowning her. Each drop of water stole her breath, eroded her away, and it hurt so, so much. She wished it would stop but she was helpless to the water’s flow, just as she was helpless to everything around her. 

Alone and asphyxiating, she readied herself to return to the planet.

“Princess!”

A knock at the door, a panicked yet tender voice. The only sound louder than the rain, but it wasn’t painful. No, it was… soothing.

“Princess?! Can you hear me?! Are you alright?!”

She got up slowly, the strength in her legs nearly futile as she wobbled to the door. Everything was blurry and distant and incomprehensible, but the voice on the other side of the door was clear and perfect and guided her. She fiddled with the knob, turned it, and opened the barrier standing between her and peace.

Air entered her lungs again as she met his worried cerulean eyes, clear as a summer’s day. His blonde hair, the color of the sun, evaporated the rain entirely. He was light.

“Princess Aerith,” he said, relief spilling into his voice.

The sound of her name coming from him sent shivers down her spine, ones she would happily feel again—and, ideally, without the honorifics. “Cloud,” she said hoarsely. 

He could tell something was wrong—and she could tell he wanted to ask—but he held himself back, like she wished he wouldn’t. “I apologize for barging into your sitting room without your permission but… you hadn’t answered me, and I was growing worried.”

She was still trying to get used to that—a bodyguard that cared. She’d never say it, but it felt really nice. “I’m sorry,” she said, taking one of his hands in hers. She felt him flinch under her touch, the leather of his gloves clenching lightly around her hands. “I must’ve not heard you, I’m—” she didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily “—a deep sleeper. And after someone’s very late visit last night,” she teased with a grin, enjoying the way his cheeks reddened, “I had to catch up on all the sleep that I missed.”

“S-Sorry.”

“Apology accepted. And,” she looked back into her prison, at the small bottle that sat on the nightstand next to her bed, “Thanks for the pills. Didn’t get a single fever all night!”

Relief washed over his features, one of his signature subtle smiles curling his lips. “Glad to hear that.”

She was about to say something else when the clock struck, and she peered inside once more to find the hour hand pointing to nine. “Uh-oh, I hadn’t even looked at the time. Zack leaves at ten, right?”

His expression soured, “Yeah…”

She frowned. “You haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet?”

“No,” he said, but she could see the truth plainly on his face: he’s been avoiding Zack.

“You should. Don’t let him leave without letting him explain himself—if you feel like you can’t be friends anymore after? Fine, but at least give him a chance.”

He was hesitating, reconsidering, arguing with the stubborn part of his brain. “Don’t really think there will be one, at this point.”

“Not unless I can get dressed quickly enough,” Aerith quipped, winking at him. The way he blushed was really just too cute: splotchy, ran all the way down his neck (and no doubt his shoulders). She adored him. “I’ll take no time at all! Wait for me?”

His eyes softened, melting her along with them. “Of course.”

She smiled— how could she not? He was her friend, her savior. Her fluttering heart sent tingles all over her as she gazed at him— her beloved knight.

***

Cloud didn’t have the heart to tell Aerith he had been evading Zack since the previous knight. First, the prince had asked him to train with him at the crack of dawn—one last match before he left—and what had Cloud done? Pretended he was asleep while Zack continued to pound his fist against the door, simultaneously waking everyone else in that hallway up. Honestly, it was a miracle Zack hadn’t broken the door down entirely with those arms of his.

Second was the breakfast invitation—Zack didn’t invite him at all, actually. Cloud fled from the dining hall as soon as the prince made his way in. 

The third time, Zack almost caught him as he made his way to Aerith’s room, but he made up the excuse that he was running late (he wasn’t) and barely gave Zack the chance to speak before climbing up the stairs. This was the only one that didn’t immediately hit him with guilt—he started panicking when Aerith didn’t immediately answer him, she had been so punctual up until then. And gods, the state he found her in: eyes bloody red, traces of tears down her cheeks, excuses they both knew she was making. How badly he had wanted to hug her and comfort her, to take all her pain away. 

But he couldn’t. He was just a bodyguard, the most he could do was shield her from any further harm.

She seemed to be feeling better when she emerged from her room once more, dressed in a loose white dress with bell sleeves that hung from her shoulders and were cinched at her elbow with pink ribbons, and that was equally cinched at her waist with a belt that had small, pink flowers along its length. She was dazzling, her beautiful smile blinding him in ways he wouldn’t admit he enjoyed.

Then she brought up Zack again, and he crashed back into reality. Even though deep down he knew she was right, his stubborn self didn’t want to hear whatever excuses Zack would have for him. He willingly worked with Shinra to destroy his village, so why should he forgive him?

Aerith eyed him quite pointedly as they stood at the front yard, watching as Zack’s party prepared for his departure. The Emperor and Prince Rufus were nowhere in sight, while Zack himself was issuing orders to his attendants, occasionally shooting a glance at the blonde knight. Both his and Aerith’s eyes said the same thing: “now would be a really good time to talk!” 

He remained steadfast, however. Even as Zack made the final preparations for his departure, even as he approached and said his goodbyes to Aerith—planting a kiss on her hand again —and even as Zack approached him , smiling brightly as if he had done nothing wrong. 

“Guess this is goodbye for now, huh buddy?” Zack grinned, lightly punching Cloud’s shoulder.

Cloud swallowed. “Yes, well… Farewell, Your Highness,” he said plainly, giving the prince a small bow.

Zack stared at him, a flash of hurt crossing his eyes that nearly made Cloud want to take back every decision he’d made that day. It only lasted a second, though, for his expression turned cold soon after as he crossed his arms. 

“You know, there is only so much attitude I can allow before I get annoyed, Sir Cloud,” Zack said, completely monotone and with an expression that didn’t give away his true thoughts in the slightest.

Cloud couldn’t help but flinch, taken aback. He’d never seen Zack act like this; even during the most dire battles, he maintained a content and inspiring tone. Now it felt like he was being scolded by Hojo himself, and frankly, a part of Cloud felt that he deserved it. 

Even Aerith seemed perplexed. She antsily looked back and forth between the two of them, thinking of ways she could resolve this conflict, probably. 

He couldn’t let her get involved, though. He wouldn’t cause her more trouble than he already has. “Apologies, Your Highness,” Cloud said, “I did not mean to—”

“I think I need to remind you of how you’re supposed to speak to royalty,” Zack said, then turned to Aerith, “Princess, you don’t mind if I take him with me for a moment, do you?”

He saw something sparkle in her eyes. “Not at all,” she said immediately.

“Your Highness!” Cloud whispered, not wanting to be separated from her.

She turned to him, a glint of playfulness in her eyes. “Remember, he’s a pretty good actor,” she whispered back, smiling.

He glanced at Zack, who was still maintaining a cold façade. His lip twitched at Aerith’s words and his head dipped down a little, and finally his attitude made sense. 

Cloud was being forced to talk. Supposed this was what he got for delaying the inevitable. 

“Very well, Highness,” Cloud said, “Lead the way.”

Zack nodded, turning to Aerith and saying, “I’ll try to keep this short,” before walking towards the gardens. Cloud also looked back at his princess, somewhat hoping she would get him out of this, but of course she gave an encouraging smile and a nod, and Cloud knew there was truly no avoiding this now. 

Zack took him to a relatively isolated part of the gardens, surrounded by hedges but not quite in the labyrinth just yet. A patch of yellow roses—that had, of course, been imported from outside of Midgar—rested near the bench where Zack took a seat, the prince having not uttered a single word as they made their way there. He leaned on his knees, lacing his fingers together as he looked down and waited for who knows what—Cloud certainly wasn’t going to make the first move. 

The prince seemed to realize that as he let out a long exhale. “So… I’m guessing Aerith spilled the beans?”

Cloud immediately straightened, his voice sounding harsher than he intended it to be (or did he?) as he said, “She didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Woah there, relax!” Zack yelped, holding his arms up in defense, “The girl doesn’t have a malicious bone in her body, I know she wouldn’t say something with any ill intention.” He paused, sighing as he sunk back into the bench. “She probably thought I already told you, right?”

The knight swallowed, feeling acid rise from his stomach. “She did.”

“Figures,” Zack murmured. “S’pose this is what I get for not saying anything.”

Cloud felt a hint of pity in his chest, but he quickly shook it off. He wasn’t letting Zack off the hook, no matter how much a deep part of him may have wanted to. Not so easily. “Five years ago…”

“I was in Nibelheim,” he confirmed, and Cloud had to lean back against the hedges to keep himself from falling, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

When he said nothing else, a spark of ire lit within Cloud. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

“What more can I say?!” Zack scoffed, making a frustrated motion with his hands, “What, you want me to tell you in detail how your hometown was destroyed and most of its residents killed?”

A flash of his burning home, of his mothers voice, of Tifa’s blood, of his eyes ran across Cloud’s mind in succession, hitting too fast and too hard to avoid the headache that came with it. “Yeah, actually,” he huffed, taking a bold step towards the prince, “Tell me what you did. According to Aerith, you were probably keeping a low profile so you didn’t get stabbed in the back, I can’t imagine you would spend your time in the middle of a battlefield.” And I can’t imagine you would so willingly hurt so many innocent people. “So tell me, what did you do? And tell me the truth, the actual truth, without this ‘tough guy’ act you’re putting up.”

Zack let out a half-laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. “Busted again. Guess taking a page outta your book isn’t really for me.”

Cloud ignored the dig—for now—and leaned back on the hedges, crossing his arms. “Go on.”

Zack stared hard at the ground and leaned forward so his arms rested on his knees, his fingers intertwining with each other. Cloud couldn’t tell what was going through his head, but he could see the subtle shifts in the prince’s expressions as he thought of how to begin. 

“I…” he finally said after prolonged silence, “I… I did participate. In the siege, I mean. Couldn’t exactly avoid it all together, didn’t want to raise suspicion, y’know? So, I fought.

“But I couldn’t keep going. Not after seeing their faces.”

Cloud raised a brow. “Their?”

“...There was a small squad.”

A flash.

“Less than ten men, I think.”

Blood. Screams.

“No, not even men. Young boys, probably around my age at the time.”

His head ached terribly. 

“They all looked so determined to protect their village, even if they knew it was a lost cause. They clearly had no military training, and their weapons were so dull. They fought bravely, but with him on our side…”

His eyes.

“...It was a massa—”

“Stop.”

Zack raised his head, finding Cloud tightly clutching his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Don’t talk about it,” said the blonde through gritted teeth.

Zack raised a brow. “But I thought—”

“Just don’t. Move on.”

There was something off about the knight, but Zack didn’t want to push more, he had no right to. So he moved on. “Well, after that was set and done,” he continued, “I retreated to the backlines, remained with some of my most trusted men I brought with me from Gongaga. It was around then the Shinra troops started setting fire to the village.”

Cloud remembered. Remembered how the flames singed his clothes as he ran; remembered mothers running out of their homes with their children in their arms, terribly burned, only to be cut down by the soldiers awaiting their escape. He remembered his own mother, running out of their home in search of him, and the relief on her face when she spotted him, hurt but alive. And he remembered her and his horror as his steel cut her flesh. Cut her down. And his knees went weak then, he crawled to her, hugged her as her body remained warm from the flames, and waited. 

And then he saw Tifa, alone and afraid, running towards the outpost, and he remembered the direction he went in.

“I couldn’t take it, so I decided I wanted to help the survivors in whatever way I could.” Zack scoffed, a self-deprecating smirk tugging at his lips, “Made my mind up too late, though. By the time I got my men together, there were hardly any survivors, and of the few there were, most were too late to save.

“We did save a few, though. Namely,” he eyed Cloud through the cover of his lashes, “a young pair wounded at the Nibel Outpost.” When Cloud’s eyes went wide, Zack quickly looked away and added, “A-Among others, of course.”

“You,” Cloud winced, “You saved Tifa and me?”

Zack bit his lip, unable to look him in the eye. “I-I’m not saying it to try to make myself look better or so that you’ll forgive me, but,” he sighed, “Yeah. We found you guys and some other old guy there after we found all the survivors in the village. Call it intuition, but I just… felt like someone might’ve gone up there, I guess.”

A whirlwind of emotions swept through Cloud, none of which he could quite describe. Should he be angry, still? Keep the petty act going? Or should he succumb to the forgiveness gnawing away at his chest? Cloud knew better than most that with Shinra, one hardly had another choice but to follow his orders, lest they risk death. He’d done some unsavory things under Shinra command, too, who was he to judge Zack for trying to stay alive? And even then, he still put his life at risk just to try to save someone, anyone, and that just so happened to include Cloud and Tifa.

And, despite it all, Zack was his best friend. No matter what he did, Cloud knew deep down he could never stay angry at him forever. But it still hurt. This interaction, this stupid talk, it still hurt—and it wasn’t just because of the memories pounding against his skull. He was still so, so angry at Zack, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. 

Cloud wet his lips. “Tifa… does she know about this? About you?”

Zack was silent for a moment. “Yeah.”

And the pain got so much worse. 

“You were completely out of it when we found you on the stairs—lost too much blood to stay conscious—but Tifa was awake, albeit barely. I’m… honestly surprised she hasn’t told you after all these years, I never asked her to keep it a secret.”

Cloud had asked her who saved them when they woke up in North Corel, in a shabby doctor’s office that looked more like a worn down stable than a proper hospital. She had said her martial arts teacher, Zangan—probably the old guy Zack had mentioned—and some random guy had come to their rescue and not much else. To be fair, back then she probably didn’t know Zack’s true identity, but why not say a thing after they met again?

Why didn’t Zack tell him?

His words came out with more venom than he intended. “You… did you become my friend just so you could atone, or something?”

“What?! No—hell, no, of course not!” Zack shot out of his seat, and Cloud tried to ignore the pain in his eyes. “I wanted to be your friend because I liked you! Honestly, I was debating even approaching you when we first met, it didn’t feel right, knowing what I had done to you and your home. But I saw how hard you worked, how tough you tried to act even though you’re just a big softie—”

“Hey!”

“And above all, I was happy you were alive, so I just… wanted to become acquaintances, at least, ” Zack sighed, smiling softly, “But clearly it got a little out of hand. So no, I didn’t approach you so I could atone, otherwise I would’ve told you what happened from the beginning, right?” Cloud didn’t say anything, and he continued, “I know full well what I did was wrong, and that I have no right to call myself your friend.” 

Zack looked up at the clear blue sky up above, a stark contrast to the smoke that covered the night sky of Nibelheim, “And I guess… maybe that's why I didn’t tell you. I had planned to at some point, I swear I did, but… I got too attached to ya and chickened out, I guess.” 

Cloud felt a sour taste in the back of his mouth, his cheeks flushing. “You’re really putting me on the spot here.”

Zack turned and put his hands up apologetically. “Sorry, sorry; I’m not trying to make excuses for myself or anything. Just… telling you the truth. The whole truth.”

The truth, such a simple concept yet one so hard to grasp. Lies and hidden truths seemed to be the natural response for humans, and Cloud had to wonder why. No, he knew why, but why? Why must it be so hard not only to say it, but to accept it as well?

A dilemma that likely would never be solved, nor one he had the time or patience to try to solve either. He succumbed, but only slightly. “...I don’t hate you, Zack.”

The prince looked up at Cloud from the yellow roses he had been staring at and blinked. “What?”

Cloud shrugged. “You were just trying to survive. I get it.”

“I’m not getting my hopes up. What’s the catch?”

“I’m still angry,” he admitted, “Not as much as before, but I still am.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Zack nodded. He suddenly took a deep breath and held it, then leaned so far forward to the point he was almost bowing at Cloud.

The knight took a step back. “What are you—”

“Punch me!” Zack encouraged, closing his eyes tightly shut.

“...What?”

“Punch me, slap me, anything. Get your frustration out however you need to. Just, uh, don’t kill me. Please.”

What the hell. “I’m not gonna hit you, Zack. I also don’t wanna die.”

“C’mon. No one’s here, and I won’t tell a soul!”

“It’ll leave a bruise.”

“I’ll just… say I fell off my bird.”

A bird that was nowhere near them. Honestly, he still found it incredibly hard to believe Zack was a prince when he could be so idiotic at times. Especially now. It was even harder to believe that he was friends with such an idiot of a prince.

And he’d never say it out loud, but that was why he liked him, too.

He approached Zack, whose eyes were still tightly shut, and raised his hand. The prince flinched at the sound of fabric moving, but held steady as he waited for his due punishment. However, instead of the burning pain of a slap or the suddenness of a punch, like he was expecting, he felt a short yet powerful impact against his forehead.

“Ow!” He hissed, hands reflexively going up to rub the spot. He opened his eyes to find Cloud’s hand open in front of him, thumb and index finger particularly close to his forehead. 

“There,” said the knight, nonchalantly, “Happy now?”

“Uh,” Zack said, perplexed. “I… guess?”

“Great. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a job to get back to,” Cloud huffed, and he didn’t wait for an answer as he started walking back to the front yard. A job, he said, but in reality, he just really felt the need to be near Aerith at that moment. He always felt at peace with her, maybe she could manage to ease his pained heart—or make it worse, like she had last night. He didn’t mind either option, actually.

“Wha—Hey! Wait up!” Zack said, as if his magiarmor wouldn’t let him catch up in an instant. He seemed hesitant to say something, and against his better judgement, he did. “So… Are we cool?”

“If by cool you mean I get to quote-unquote ‘accidentally punch you’ the next time we train whenever you come back, then yeah,” Cloud bit back a smirk, “We’re cool.”

Zack lit up, laughing as he wrapped an arm around Cloud’s shoulders and pulled him in close. “Alright! You got it, buddy! You’ll get to punch me as many times as you’d like!”

“Hey, don’t push your luck,” Cloud groaned and brushed his arm off. “I’m still pissed.”

“Right, right, sorry,” Zack chuckled, his smile warm, “At least… thanks for not killing me.”

Cloud shrugged, giving a small smile of his own only because he couldn’t help it. “Only ‘cause it’d get Her Highness in a lot of trouble.”

“Oh?” Zack smirked, and Cloud realized he made a fatal mistake: never talk about women near Zack. Especially if you’re Cloud, who had never shown interest in anyone outside of his circle. “And since when did you start caring so much about Aerith?”

Cloud gulped. “I—”

He stopped when he saw her, arms hugged around her middle as she picked nervously at her lips. A breeze passed, her brown curls flowing in his direction as her head turned with the wind, and their eyes met. And the pain in his chest got so much agonizingly yet pleasurably worse as her verdant eyes sparkled and her smile glowed. 

Zack watched him and the way his eyes lit up, and smirked. “Speak of the devil—well, more like angel.”

“Y-Yeah,” Cloud said, unable to form any coherent thoughts at the moment.

Zack held back a laugh, then turned to the princess and waved. “Aerith! We’re back!”

“I’m glad to see you made it back safe and sound,” she said as they approached her, her eyes drifting back and forth between Zack and Cloud—definitely lingering on Cloud for much longer than she needed to. 

Zack’s smirk grew. “Sorry we took so long, you’ve got one stubborn bodyguard here.”

Cloud rolled his eyes while she giggled. “He may be a mule sometimes, but at least he’s good at his job.”

“H-Hey!” Cloud pouted, his cheekbones turning red while Zack cackled.

“Kidding,” she teased, then winked at him, “But only a little.”

She was really too much for his heart to handle. “Anyway, I should probably get going, don’t wanna delay my departure any more than what’s necessary,” Zack said, then approached Aerith.

“Right,” Aerith nodded, “It’s been a pleasure having you here, Zack. I hope you’ll be back again soo—”

Zack leaned down and kissed her. On the—from Cloud’s perspective—lips. His blood went cold with dread and hot with—inexplicable—outrage. 

Aerith’s eyes opened wide as they followed Zack while he moved away, a laid-back smile on his face as if he had done nothing wrong. “I’ll see you soon, my princess,” he said quietly and softly, then turned to Cloud with a coy grin, waving his arm around like a lunatic, “See ya later, buddy!”

He didn’t wait for a response before swiftly making his way down to his party, who were all set to go, and swiftly departed once the prince got on his chocobo.

Cloud glanced at Aerith, just to garner whether she had been comfortable with that or if he really did need to spark a war between Midgar and Gongaga. She was still rooted to the spot Zack had left her in after he kissed her, and there was a slight pink hue to her cheeks as she delicately touched her nose with the tips of her fingers. “...He really does too much, sometimes.”

Not a kiss on the lips, then. Thank Gaia. He might still need to start that war, though.

“Anywhooo,” Aerith took a deep breath and let herself relax, turning to Cloud, “Everything okay?”

The rage inside him immediately dwindled at the sight of her smile. “...It will be,” he said, giving a small smile of his own. 

“Glad to hear! Now then…” She looked around, for birds probably, “What do you say we go on a little adventure?”

Chapter 8: The Language of Nature (2)

Notes:

the action's picking up!!! I hope you enjoy :DDD

“Glad to hear! Now then…” She looked around, for birds probably, “What do you say we go on a little adventure?”

Cloud raised a brow. “An adventure? As in…?”

“As in,” she grabbed his forearm and lightly pulled him towards the gardens, “We sneak around Shinra guards for the rest of the day!”

He didn’t offer an ounce of resistance and happily let her take him along—no way he could ever refuse her—and asked, “I thought you didn’t want me getting into trouble?”

“It’s fine if we both get into trouble. I made you take me somewhere, and you were just following orders, know what I’m saying?”

“I don’t think that’s how it works in our case.”

“Oh hush,” she smiled, and Cloud could feel all the stress and frustration from before slowly evaporating from his body. He felt light as a feather with her touch being the wind that guided him through the world, all his worries disappearing the more he let himself fly. It was amazing how she made him feel this way, so at ease, without really doing all that much. Just by being her.

“Actually,” she said, coming up to his side while still keeping an arm wrapped around his, “I do have a favor to ask.”

He noticed a slight shift in the tone of her voice and the way she fidgeted with the fabric of his sleeve. Odd. “What is it?”

“I was wondering if you could, just maybe,” she mumbled, and he started getting worried, “Take…me… to. The. Center. Of the labyrinth? The very center of it?”

He blinked at her in sync with her blinking at him. That was it? “I don’t see why not,” Cloud shrugged, “We’re already sneaking out anyway, might as well do what you’d like while we’re at it.”

She beamed and squeezed his arm, “Really?!”

“Really,” he nodded, his smile growing.

“Yay! Oh, I can’t wait,” she gushed, lightly tugging on his arm, “C’mon, c’mon!”

Peace was to have her so close to him, her scent of lilies washing over him and making him pleasantly lightheaded. Lilies used to be the only kind of flower he knew before meeting her, for no reason other than being taught to “get rid of them” should they ever cross his line of sight or should their scent ever intoxicate him. Lilies were a symbol of the old rule, a threat, a sign of rebellion. They were purged from all of Midgar, and only the natural one that remained was trapped within walls placed around it by its oppressor. 

They were his favorite flower amongst the many he now knew.

“So what’s in the middle of the labyrinth that you want to see?” Cloud felt compelled to ask. Last he recalled, there was nothing all that special there, just more hedges.

“That’s a secret,” she stuck her tongue out at him, “You’ll find out once we get there.”

He tried really hard not to smirk. “That doesn’t seem very fair.”

“I just don’t wanna spoil the surprise.” She looked forward again, her lips pressed together. “I’ve… been trying to get to it, for a while. If it was just the Faremis Labyrinth, I might’ve, but with Shinra’s, uh, additions… ”

“It’s practically impossible,” Cloud nodded, then something clicked, “Is that what you were doing the night we met? Trying to reach the middle?”

“Yep, and good thing I ran into you, I got super lost,” Aerith chuckled then turned to him with a playful grin, “That’s why I chose you as my bodyguard, Mr. Labyrinth Expert.”

“You needed someone to guide you there,” he smiled, appreciating the honesty.

“Exactly! Well, that, and because I liked you,” she said nonchalantly while Cloud felt his chest explode. That was the second time someone had told him they liked him today, and he wasn’t sure how many more times his heart could handle. Especially if Aerith was the one to say it again. He knew she didn’t mean it that way, the same way he did (although he wasn’t exactly sure what that way was, in his case) and she just meant it in a friendly manner. Still, he couldn’t help but hope for… something.

“We’re here!” Aerith cheered, and Cloud snapped out of his trance to find that they’d reached the entrance to the labyrinth. Aerith turned to him, her eyes brimming with excitement, and said, “Ready?”

Cloud smiled and nodded, “Of course.”

“Great!” She let go of his arm, much to his disappointment, before swiftly reigniting his heart by taking his hand in hers and giving it a light squeeze. His eyes met hers and her smile fluttered his stomach. “Just so I don’t get lost, y’know?” She grinned, giving his hand another squeeze.

He gulped, holding back the urge to squeeze back. “R-Right. Let’s get going.”

Dew dropped from the hedges as they passed by, still moist from the early morning’s rain. The smell of freshly cut grass was nearly overwhelming—overpowering, more so than it should be, as though it had been willfully placed there. Cloud walked a few paces ahead of Aerith, one, to guide her; two, to keep her safe from any incoming danger; and three…

His face was tomato red. He tried his best to keep his hand as un-clammy as humanly possible—however, feeling the warmth of her soft palm through the thick leather of his glove was making it extremely difficult. The delicate drumming of her fingers against the back of his hand made his twitch and he hoped she couldn’t feel the tiny movements. His only blessing came in that she wasn’t holding his hand too tightly, otherwise she might’ve been able to feel how hard and fast his heart was beating against his palm, the skin of which was now slick with sweat and made wearing his glove highly uncomfortable. He was happy to tolerate it if it meant he could hold her hand longer, though. 

He wondered if she knew the things she did to him, how nervous and sensitive she made him—the very opposite of what he wants to be.

“Meow!”

Cloud stopped in his tracks, pulling Aerith towards and behind him on instinct. “Did you hear that?” She asked, and he felt the gentle sensation of her hand pressed against his back.

“Yeah,” he said quietly as he reached for the hilt of his sword, scanning their surroundings for any sign of intruders.

“It kinda sounded like—”

A black mass jumped at him from the top of one of the hedges, and he hardly had enough time to react—just enough for him to catch the object in his hands. He was ready to throw it down and fight whatever it was, at least until he spotted a pair of fluffy, black ears pointed in his direction.

“Meow!”

“A cat!” Aerith gasped, smiling widely as she peeked over Cloud’s shoulder to get a look at the creature. 

“So it is,” Cloud murmured, completely dumbfounded. The cat was black and fluffy— really fluffy, almost too fluffy—and felt like sponge in his hands, it had a white tummy and face, and, disturbingly, no eyes. At least it looked that way—the spaces where there normally would be eyes were covered by more fluff. He was so glad he wasn’t allergic to cats.

“How cute!” Aerith giggled and skipped around Cloud to hold the kitty, “C’mere little guy…”

“No way!” Cloud moved the cat away before she could touch it, eliciting a long meow from the creature.

“What? Why?!” She chased after him.

“It’s dirty.” He dodged.

“No it’s not! And even if it is, why should I care?” She refused to give up, chasing him around in circles and trying every trick in the book to try and get the cat off his hands. “C’mon, I just wanna hold it! Pretty please?”

“It might carry some kind of disease,” Cloud couldn’t help but chuckle, amused by her resilience, while swiftly dodging her attempts. “Can’t risk you getting sick again.”

“Oh please, I’m not that weak.”

“Never said you were. I just don’t wanna risk it.” I don't want you to be in so much pain again.

Aerith ceased her chase to stare at him, her eyes softening and a smile curling her lips. “Cloud,” she said quietly, tenderly, as she stepped towards him.

He, meanwhile, remained rooted to the ground as she approached, trying not to drown in her emerald eyes utterly failing. He was so entranced he didn’t notice when she snuck her hands around the cat’s belly, and only snapped out of it when he no longer felt said cat in his hands.

She gave him a cheeky grin as she cradled the tiny creature in her arms, who meowed happily as it put its paws up on her shoulders. “Thanks!” 

He blinked, stunned. She got him, tricked him. He’d been had. And the rapid thumping in his chest told him he had enjoyed it. He must've really been turning into a lunatic.

Aerith hummed merrily as she gently squeezed one of the cat’s paws, picking a random direction and walking towards it. “Aren’t you just a cute little guy?” She cooed, giggling when the cat responded with a squeaky meow. The more she stared at its face, the more she couldn’t help but feel like she had seen it before—a feat she thought impossible, given how little she’d left the castle over the past decade.

“Kinda looks like the cat from the Gold Carnival,” Cloud said as if he had read her mind—having given up on trying to separate her from the creature—while simultaneously grabbing her arm and redirecting her to the correct path (which happened to be in the very opposite direction of where she had been heading). 

“You’re right!” She’d never been to the Gold Carnival before, but she had heard stories of how big and wonderful and fun it was, with all kinds of activities—ranging from dangerous coliseum matches to exciting chocobo races: it was a land where all dreams came true! At least, that’s what all the fliers and books said. And those papers usually came with small illustrations of a black and white cat, wearing a cape and crown, mounted on top of moogles. Almost like the little feline in her arms.

“Alrighty then, from now on your name will be Cait Sith!” She giggled, raising the cat above her head and spinning around.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about keeping it,” Cloud asked incredulously.

“Well I can’t just leave him here,” Aerith huffed, holding the creature up to Cloud. It meowed. “Look at him: wet, cold, and covered in mud! How could I possibly leave such a helpless animal here all on his own?”

He smirked at her dramatics. “Thought you said he wasn’t dirty.”

“...He’s a little dirty,” she admitted, holding the cat with one arm while absentmindedly wiping at some of the dirt on her sleeve where it had put its paws.

“What if Shinra finds out?” 

“I’ve had pets before, he won’t care,” she mumbled, cringing at herself for using the word “pet”. Her last animal-esque companion hadn’t exactly been a pet; not willingly, at least.

“You don’t sound very convinced.”

“It’s just a cat! How much trouble could it possibly cause the Emperor to let his,” she winced, “Niece keep a pet cat?”

“True enough,” Cloud said, still smiling. He couldn’t help it—he just felt so lively when he was with her. 

The wall of leaves surrounding them slowly turned brighter and fresher, and he quickly realized they were past the Shinra Labyrinth. He shot Aerith a quick glance, watching as recognition dawned on her expression, her eyes darting to the vibrant hedges, to the cobblestone path that had suddenly appeared beneath their feet, to the sky above.

“Is this…” She said quietly; hesitant, verdant eyes meeting his, “Are we in the Faremis Labyrinth?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

Aerith’s eyes widened and before he could react, she grabbed his hand and bolted off in some random direction, dragging him along without leaving him much chance to recover. 

“Your Highness?!” He yelped, barely managing to keep up with her. 

“It’s this way,” she muttered, but she seemed to be talking to herself rather than to him. Her eyes were dead-set on the path ahead, yet her lips were pressed into a thin line—something was worrying her and she was trying her best to hide it, but Cloud knew better than to fall for the act at this point. Against his better judgement, he gave her hand a light, reassuring squeeze; relieved when her expression softened and a small smile appeared on her lips.

She led him through the labyrinth expertly, with a swiftness he was impressed by given the volume of her skirt. Each turn she made was precise, without a lack of hesitation, as if she knew the place like the back of her hand. There were paths even Cloud wasn’t aware of, and he didn’t doubt for a minute that they were going the right way—not when he could see her resolve so clearly.

Eventually, they reached a small clearing: a circular space that was mostly hidden by hedges, save for one opening that led to the one rest area in the entire labyrinth, Faremis and Shinra combined. White, marble benches sat around the perimeter, ionic columns topped with small figurative sculptures next to each one. And in the middle of it all stood both the most despicable and most beautiful part of the labyrinth—a larger-than-life statue of Emperor Shinra surrounded by white and yellow lilies. 

Aerith’s hand slipped through his fingers, and he instinctively chased after it. He didn’t catch her in time, though, as she gently put Cait Sith down and looked at the statue, her fists clenched at her sides. “There used to be a fountain here,” her voice wavered, “It looked like several flowers wrapped around each other—almost like an upside-down chandelier, if that makes any sense—and the water used to come out of all the sculpted lilies.

“I came here a lot with my mom and dad. We used to sit on the edge of that fountain, pick these flowers, and spend entire afternoons here.” She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes boldly glaring into the statue’s with unshed tears lining them. “I know it’s been almost twenty years since I last came here so change was inevitable, but…”

Seeing her like that hurt him more than he liked to admit. It was just like that morning and last night: he felt hopeless to ease her pain, to wipe away those tears and pull her into an embrace.  

“You’ll get it back,” He finally said after a moment of silence, stepping closer to her. She turned to look at him, her head tilted in that adorable manner she did whenever she was confused or wanted to ask a question. “T-The fountain, I mean. You’ll get it back once you ascend the throne.”

Her eyes widened. “You think I’ll become the emperor?”

He scratched the back of his head and took a glance at the not-so-distant castle. “It’ll be hard, for sure, but,” he looked back at her, resolve blazing in his gaze, “If anyone can do it, it’s you.” And I’ll be with you every step of the way, no matter what. I will keep you safe.

Aerith didn’t say anything for a long while, and Cloud started to wonder if he should’ve just kept his mouth shut instead of trying to butt into her moment of grief with words that were useless to her (they weren’t meaningless, though, for he meant everything he said and thought). 

Just as he was about to apologize, her cheerful giggles brushed all his thoughts away. “Seriously, Cloud, you gotta at least check for the birds if you’re gonna say stuff like that!”

He stared at her for a moment, then gave a laid-back smile and shrugged. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Oh my, very cocky, aren’t we? Fine, just don’t get mad if you wake up with a missing finger or two tomorrow.”

“They wouldn’t do that.”

“You’re right: they would do something, much, much worse.” Her eyes were full of mirth as she approached him and took his hand in hers, gently rubbing the back of his hand with her thumbs. “Still, thank you, Cloud. I feel a lot better.”

“I didn’t do much,” he said, hoping she wouldn’t notice his reddening cheeks.

Judging by her giggle, she probably did—and he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would. She tugged on his hand and pointed towards the flowers beneath the statue, “C’mon!”

He let her lead him there and nearly stopped her when she kneeled down on the grass beside the flowers, but decided against it. He just wished he could’ve at least put his cape down beneath her so she wouldn’t get her dress dirty. 

Aerith tapped the spot right next to her while looking at him with such kind, bright eyes and a warm smile that they made his chest hurt. He sat a solid couple inches away from her—for naught, of course, because Aerith closed that distance almost immediately, sitting close enough for their shoulders to touch. He tried not to shiver.

She delicately ran her hands over the flowers, caressing the petals between her fingers. Cloud watched her as she closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh, a carefree smile forming on her lips like flowers emerging from their buds. She was quiet again for a while, reveling in the memories of her childhood. Cloud didn’t speak or move, simply watched over her so nothing would disturb her.

A tear ran down her cheek. Cloud pondered if he should acknowledge it or let her be despite the worry eating away at him. Almost-thankfully, he didn’t have to decide as Cait Sith suddenly jumped onto Aerith’s lap, meowing away at nudging his head against her arm.

“Cait!” Cloud hissed, trying to grab the cat so he wouldn’t disturb her even more, but the creature was damn slippery. 

His hand brushed against her stomach and he ceased all effort to try and get the cat away from her. Another thing that would haunt him for the rest of time, probably. 

If Aerith noticed she didn’t say a thing, simply giggled at the cat before her and wiped her tear away. “Aww, I’m sorry Cait, we didn’t mean to ignore you.” Maybe she didn’t, but Cloud was certainly hoping the cat had scrammed. “Tell you what. Once we get back to my room, we’ll play all day! How’s that sound?”

Cait Sith meowed happily as Aerith scratched him behind the ears, which made Aerith giggle again, and Cloud suddenly felt like he was third-wheeling. Stupid cat, hogging all of her attention…

Wait a minute.

No.

He couldn’t be… jealous of a cat, could he? That’d be stupid. He’d be stupid. Why would he even be jealous in the first place? There was no reason for him to—

“Cloud?”

He hadn’t realized he’d been staring at her until her eyes met his and she called his name. His neck heated up. 

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, smiling innocently as Cait Sith cuddled up to her shoulder, and she in turn lightly nudged her head with his. 

Damn it all, she was so cute. The cat only slightly soured the sight. “Uh,” he stammered, looking around for any kind of excuse. The flowers. “I’m… surprised these are still here. Lilies aren’t exactly, uh, indicative of anything good for Shinra.”

“That’s true,” Aerith hummed, touching the petals again. A soft smile on her lips, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “These guys have always been pretty tough, guess Shinra wasn’t able to uproot them. Or, you know, there’s some kinda metaphor in this little patch of flowers being beneath a statue of him.”

Oh. Right, that was probably the more likely answer. Think before you speak, his mother used to say, and clearly he was letting her down. “Sorry.”

“I’m just teasing you,” she chuckled, “Y’know, the lilies in my room originate from this very patch.”

His eyes went wide. “But… didn’t you say it's been years since you last came here?” There wasn’t anything in her room that looked like a small patch of flowers that would simply regrow every year either—all of the flowers there were bundled up in bouquets, not even buried in soil.

“Crazy, right? That they’ve survived this long,” she said, eyes still closed and voice just above a whisper. As if she was listening.

Cloud bit his lip. “What are they saying?”

Her eyes shot open and her head snapped to look at him. “Hm?”

“The flowers.”

“O-Oh,” she looked back at the patch, shyly, and he didn’t miss the red tint on her cheeks, “How’d you know?”

He shrugged. “Call it a feeling.”

“Uh-huh,” she smiled, looking at him from the corner of her eye. She was quiet for a while, her hands gently raking through petals as she took a deep breath. “I… can’t really tell.”

Cloud tilted his head down to try and meet her eyes. “They’re not saying anything?”

“No, they are,” she shook her head, “It’s the ones in my room that are silent—because they’re no longer connected to the planet, is my guess. These ones…” She closed her eyes again, her mouth twisting into a small frown, “They’re too loud. I can’t make out what they’re saying. It’s kinda like being in a crowd: there’s a bunch of conversations going on around you but you can’t distinguish them ‘cause they’re all mushed together.”

Cloud hummed in understanding, his brain immediately trying to think of ways to help her. 

“I-I know it sounds hard to believe,” she faltered, chuckling with faux-humor, “Really not helping my ‘crazy-flower-lady’ rep, am I?”

“I believe you.”

Aerith looked at him, and he continued, “If it was anyone else I probably wouldn’t, but because it’s you…”

She blinked. “‘Cause I’m a Cetra?”

He didn’t know how to put it into words: the unwavering trust he had in her, the one he didn’t even realize he had until that very moment. It had always been there, though, since the day he met her. Even if there were things she was keeping from him—she had always exuded this air of wonder and mystery—he didn’t care; he could only hope that, one day, she would trust him enough to let all her thoughts and frustrations loose on him. 

“Well, there’s that, too. But I just,” he swallowed the knot in his throat, “… believe you .”

“I see,” she hummed, a tender smile on her lips. Her eyes wandered up the sky as a soft breeze passed through them, carrying the scent of lilies. “There’s always been this… murmur over Midgar since Shinra took over—’cause of the outposts, I think; it’s too loud to ignore but too quiet to fully discern.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

“Wasn’t kidding when I said this adds fuel to the fire of me being a crazy-flower-lady,” she chuckled lightheartedly, her gaze still on the sky. Wordlessly, she shuffled a little closer to him and leaned her head against his shoulder. Cloud felt his breath hitch. “I just… wish I could understand what the planet is saying.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Cloud reassured, hoping Aerith couldn’t hear his thundering heart.

She looked up at him, bright green piercing into his blues and causing his hands to get so, so much shakier. “You think so?” She wondered. 

She was close enough for her breath to tickle his cheek and send shivers down his spine. “Yeah,” he said, then quietly added, “And… if there’s anything I can do to help, I will.”

That smile of hers was too much for his weak heart handle, it lit a gentle, blazing fire within him that he couldn’t care to quench—no, he would rather it burn his insides, all of him, if only she would look at him like this again. Such a soft and gentle gaze that, if really wanted to, he could fool himself into believing she might enjoy being with him as much as he enjoyed being with her. 

“I appreciate it,” she said, closing her eyes while nudging ever so slightly closer to him. 

Everything within him screamed to reach out and take her hand, or even wrap an arm around her shoulder. Instead he focused on the cat on her lap that was clearly growing annoyed from the lack of attention it was receiving. It must’ve noticed Cloud was looking at it, for it hopped over from Aerith’s lap onto his, startling both the princess and the knight.

Aerith moved her head off Cloud’s shoulder—he wanted to pull her right back—and giggled as she watched Cait Sith swat its paws at his hand. “Aww, I think he likes you.”

“I think you need your eyesight checked, Princess.”

“Oh, you know I’m right,” she stuck her tongue out at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. Her eyes lingered on the flowers for a moment before she closed them, “We should probably start heading back.”

She made to get up, so Cloud carefully set Cait Sith down and stood up, offering her a hand. “Are you sure?” He asked softly.

She smiled up at him and took his hand, allowing him to gently pull her up. “Yeah. The Turks have probably noticed I’m not in my room by now, and I don’t wanna get in more trouble than we already are.”

Cloud hummed. “Then… I guess we’ll just have to come back some other day.”

“Really?” She beamed.

“Don’t see why not.”

“Then from now on, this’ll be our spot!” She wrapped her arm around his and put a finger up to her mouth, winking, “Our secret spot.”

“Yes ma’am,” Cloud chuckled, his cheeks flushed. 

Aerith called for Cait Sith to follow them, and the pair made their way back through the labyrinth, arm in arm. She leaned her head against his shoulder again, humming a tune as she closed her eyes and let him guide her along the path. Cloud kicked any stone or branch that stood in her way as subtly as he could, and lightly nudged Cait Sith away whenever he would nearly entangle himself on Cloud’s feet. Aerith would occasionally giggle, so he imagined he wasn’t being nearly as subtle as he intended.

“Meow!” The pair stopped in their tracks and looked at Cait Sith after that particularly loud meow. Its ears were flat and tilted back, and the fur on its tail was spikier and puffier than usual. Something was wrong.

“Cait, are you okay?” Aerith asked, crouching down before the cat and tentatively reaching a hand out to it. 

An orb of fire suddenly turned the corner they had just come from. “Your Highness!” Cloud screamed. He ran to her and crouched, putting a hand on her back while lifting his cape with the other, covering both of them just as the fireball made impact with the cloth. Aerith screamed beside him while he shook the ashes off his singed cape—which happened to be mostly fire proof.

He lowered his cape slightly and saw a strange man dressed in a cloak that covered his face, fire still swirling from the hand that held a materia. His first instinct was to charge at the man and end this ordeal quickly—but then he felt Aerith’s hand grasp his suspender, trembling, and he realized: his job wasn’t solely to fight her enemies; his main priority, above all else, was to protect her. 

“We gotta go,” he said quietly, taking her hand into a tight and secure hold. He didn’t wait for her to answer before pulling her up and running away from the mysterious man. There was no telling if he was alone or if there were others hiding amongst the hedges, and he wasn't about to take any chances. 

Aerith yelped as Cloud dragged her along the path and urged Cait Sith to jump into her arms with a wave. She wrapped her arm tightly around its belly, then snuck a glance back—only to nearly have her hair singed as they turned another corner. “Please don’t tell me that’s who I think it is!” She squeaked. 

“An assassin? Probably,” Cloud confirmed.

“Oh, great! Why would anyone wanna kill me of all people?!” 

“Can think of a couple reasons.”

“Hey! I mean you’re right, but still! I—” Cloud suddenly stopped in his tracks and pulled her into him, causing her to knock her face against his chest. “Ow… why did you—” Her eyes landed on the giant icicle that not only blocked the path before them, but would’ve surely impaled both of them. “O-Oh. Oh… my god.”

Cloud could vaguely see the figure of another robed person on the other side of the icicle, and a glance behind him revealed the robed man they had initially encountered. They were completely surrounded—with only one way to escape.

“Pardon me, Your Highness.”

“Huh?” Aerith gasped when he suddenly wrapped an arm beneath her knees and lifted her up, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Cait Sith held on to her for dear life. “What are you—?!”

“Hold on tight.” 

He jumped—no, soared over several hedges catching both of their pursuers (and Aerith) off guard. She held on tight enough to cut off his airways, and if him passing out from asphyxiating was what it took for her to feel safe, so be it.

When they landed, Cloud held her for a couple extra seconds before putting her down; slowly and carefully, so she wouldn’t fall if her knees had gone weak. She seemed fine on her own, shakily lowering her hands from his neck and onto his chest—he still kept an arm on her back, just in case. Cait Sith plopped onto the grass, meowing sadly and exhaustedly. Poor cat.  

“Cloud Strife,” she said, panting somewhat, as she looked up at him, her eyes bright and a wide smile emerging from her lips, “You are insane! How did you do that?!”

“Wind materia,” he said, showing her his gauntlet with the slotted orb, “And I’m just doing my job.”

“I don’t recall putting ‘must be able to fly across a garden’ in the job description,” she laughed, but quickly remembered the situation they were currently in. She picked up Cait Sith again and cradled him close to her chest, taking a look at their surroundings before turning back to Cloud. “Think we’re safe?”

His eyes were already trained on the now-three figures above them. “Nope,” he pushed her forward, “Run!”

“Oh, great,” Aerith groaned as she and Cloud went into another running spree. One of the three figures pointed a hand at her. Cloud pulled her beside him and wrapped an arm around her, shielding her from an attack that never came. Cloud raised a brow but didn’t think too much of it—they might’ve run out of mana, which would be a good thing for him.

For Aerith, however, everything had gone quiet. There were no whispers, no songs; no garbled statements and no murmurs. The leaves looked just like that: leaves, instead of living, breathing beings that housed the consciousness of the planet.

For once, she was normal.

“I’m silenced,” she said. Cloud looked at her, at the fear and fascination mixed in her eyes. “They… they silenced me. I can’t use magic.” 

He nodded, slightly perplexed. Why would they target her with a silence spell? True, Aerith seemed to have an affinity for magic, but he doubted she had used it in combat or to otherwise defend herself all that often. If anything they should’ve casted it on him—he’d already shown he was in possession of materia and without being able to use them, he would, in theory, be at a disadvantage against them. And if—and only if— they managed to defeat him, taking care of Aerith wouldn’t have been hard, given they were clearly trained assassins. 

Unless… she wasn’t their target at all. 

His body acted purely on instinct. Right hand to the hilt of his sword—the left, holding Aerith, pushed her forward and let her go. Twist his torso to cover her as much as possible while she continued sprinting—at least that was what he had hoped for. She stopped when she no longer felt his hand— don’t —and she turned to face him— keep going.

Blood splattered on her face—from the dagger that impaled his right shoulder—and her eyes widened in horror as another pushed itself through his lower abdomen, near his left hip. He didn’t have time to focus on the searing pain that spread through his body—he unsheathed his sword, ignoring his shoulder entirely, and turned around, slicing through the assassin that had thrown their daggers at him.

They fell, and the others behind them stuttered. An opportunity Cloud didn’t waste; he pressed his foot hard on the ground and pushed forward, swiftly closing the distance between him and the other two—he took them down just as quickly. 

Only once he was sure they wouldn’t stand again did he allow the pain to set in. He planted his sword on the ground and used it as a leverage, panting heavily while trying to stay conscious. His head was spinning, his eyes refused to focus on even a single blade of grass, every sound was muffled—the daggers must be poisoned, and he didn’t have any cleansing or even cure materia on him. How foolish of him. 

Blood fell in rivers from his injuries, tainting the grass an ugly red that didn’t belong there. Move even an inch, and he would pass out.

“CLOUD!”

The only voice he could hear clearly. The only sound that could ever soothe him, calling his name. He turned his head, meeting those beautiful verdant eyes that he hated to see so full of worry—made even worse by the fact he’d been the one to cause her such distress. Still, he was relieved to see she was safe.

Aerith’s arms opened to him, ready to catch him if he fell, and Cloud thought that, if he was really going to die here, then he could allow himself one indulgence. To be held by her was something he could only ever dream of—it being real seemed almost impossible, at least until he felt her arms wrap around his torso and his head landed on her shoulder. His knees gave out from under him, sending them both to the ground. A sick, twisted part of Cloud could only feel serendipity as he stared into her tear-lined eyes, her face the only thing he could focus on in a world of blur. 

“Cloud!” Aerith yelled, her voice hoarse and on the verge of cracking. She pulled him closer to her, one hand wrapped around his back while the other tenderly caressed his cheek. “Cloud, stay with me, okay?”

She looked around frantically for something, though Cloud didn’t know what. “Princess,” he said weakly, so quietly he wondered if he had even made a noise. Aerith turned to look at him, her heartbroken gaze piercing as though another dagger had made its way through him. “Are… are you okay?”

“Of course I am, you silly goose,” she sniffled, her thumb gently swiping at his cheekbone, “Please, Cloud, I need you to stay awake.”

He wanted to—just to keep looking at her—but his eyelids were starting to feel incredibly heavy. With each blink it was getting harder to keep his eyes open, and eventually, he couldn’t any more. 

Even Aerith’s voice sounded more distant, panicked. “Cloud! Shit—Tseng?! Rude?! Reno?! Please, anyone, help!”

Her voice faded into an echo, and his only regret was that there would be no one to keep her safe from Shinra’s clutches anymore.

Chapter 9: A Familiar Touch

Notes:

a chapter??? so quickly after the last one??? thank aerith <333

The red cardinal sat dutifully on its window perch. Observing. The princess sat on her sofa, reading one of her many books while idly petting her new pet kitty. Nothing inherently suspicious, but after her last escapade, she clearly needed more eyes on her. Eyes that the little cardinal didn’t want to waste for hours on end for someone reading a book, so it took off into the sunny sky.

Aerith emerged from her closet, dressed down from the usual flare of her princess-y outfits. A plain, beige, cotton dress and flats, and a short, dull red cloak over her shoulders. Cait Sith trailed shortly behind her, sporting his very own crudely-made hood. She took a sneaky glance at the window—completely bird-free. Perfect.

She held back a groan as she grabbed a basket and quickly began to fill it with flowers. She could’ve left so much earlier if it weren’t for those birds, among other reasons. First it was the crow, sitting on her bedroom window right when she woke up. It was there for hours, and she had to pretend she was asleep for most of the time so as to not raise suspicion. Her only moment of privacy during those hours was when she finally arose at her usual time to go to the bathroom.

The hawk was there when “she” stepped out. At least he was nice enough to perch himself in her sitting room. She didn’t pay much attention to it while “reading her book.” And he didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary either.

Then came the cardinal, arguably the laziest of them all. She was “done with her book” by then, but she still waited a couple moments (a whole hour) before the bird, predictably, flew away to take a look around the tower, probably. Left with a very short window of time, Aerith grabbed the necessary flowers and stuffed them (delicately) in her woven basket, grabbed Cait Sith, dashed for the door, opened it, and—

“No can do, Princess.”

Aerith yelped as she jumped back, slamming her back harshly against the door. A tall, bald man dressed in a black doublet with matching trousers and shoes, plus a set of darkened glasses, stood just beside her door.

She let out a shaky sigh. “Good Gaia, Rude, you nearly scared me to death!”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” the man slightly bowed his head, “I did not mean to startle you. However, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to leave this room.”

Aerith frowned. Rude had always been slightly more strict than the cardinal; if he was really determined, there was truly no way she was going to be able to escape. But she wasn’t about to give up—no, more like she couldn't. She needed to know he was alright. She needed to see him.

She felt a little sorry for her harsh tone, but she spoke nonetheless, “By whose orders?”

Rude’s curt stance broke a little, turning his head to look at her. “Pardon?”

“Who ordered you to make me stay in my room?” She pressed on, “The Emperor, or the Prince?”

He was stammering. “Uh—”

She almost had him. “Answer me, Rude.” And she hated pulling out this card: “Remember, I am still your princess .”

He cracked. A heavy sigh left his lips, “The Prince, Your Highness.”

“Well then, if you’ll excuse me.” She merrily skipped past him, taking a little pride in her victory before stopping in her tracks, “One more question, Rude.”

She could hear the defeat in his tone, “Yes, Highness?”

“Where is he?”

“...In the barracks.”

“Thanks! Oh, and tell Reno his bird’s got a few loose screws.”

She made her way down the tower and into the castle’s hallways, setting Cait Sith down so he could stretch his legs. He had proved to be a bit of a hassle, with how skittish and talkative he could be, but she was very fond of him nonetheless. It had been a while since she had something to keep her company at all times of the day—other than her flowers, of course, but they didn’t speak—and it felt strangely nice. 

Of course, her mind was still much more concerned about her other companion. Cloud hadn’t left her thoughts since yesterday, not since the Turks picked them up from the labyrinth, not since she got the one, singular update they gave her: he was stable.

What did that even mean? That he was alive? As great as that was—and really, she was so grateful that he was safe—she needed to know how he was. Was he awake? Was he in any pain? Will he recover well? But as always, the Turks refused to answer anything past him being alive, and she’d been left to suffer her thoughts throughout the entire night.

If only she hadn’t been so reckless, so impulsive , then maybe they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place. They could’ve just… stayed in her room and chilled, like they usually did, and nothing would’ve gone so, so wrong. Cloud wouldn’t have gotten hurt because of her, the birds wouldn’t be spiraling preying on her more than usual. Everything would’ve been just fine. 

She shook those thoughts away—no point in dwelling too much on the past. There were other, far more important things she had to look forward to.

She quickened her pace as she walked through the hallways, her eyes deadset on the path ahead. She just barely registered the sound of footsteps coming from behind her, growing faster and faster with each step, to the point they sounded inhuman. A glance behind her confirmed her thoughts, and she quickly picked up Cait Sith before the dog-like creature took a bite out of him.

Aerith’s flowers spilled everywhere as Darkstar barked up at her, forcing her to back against a wall as she held Cait Sith closely to her chest. The rattling chains of its leash clinked together as the dog was pulled back, and Aerith slowly looked up to meet the eyes of its owner.

“Aerith,” Rufus said sternly, cold blue eyes glaring into hers. 

She glared back. “Was that really necessary, Rufus?” She looked at the man beside him—Tseng, his right hand man—who only nodded at her in greeting.

“I did try calling you, if you must know. However, you seemed too distracted—” she flinched and he smirked, “—to notice, so I had to get your attention a different way,” he eyed Cait Sith, clicking his tongue, “A shame, I’m sure Darkstar would’ve enjoyed such a fulfilling lunch.”

Aerith rolled her eyes, lingering on the flowers spread through the floor. She needed to pick them up, but there was no way she was lowering herself in front of him of all people. “What do you want?”

“I believe you were supposed to stay in your room today. You wouldn’t want to cause more trouble than you already have, would you?”

Rufus' specialty was getting under her skin, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction this time. “Last time I checked, I don’t have to follow your orders.”

His eye twitched, glancing at the man behind him. “I’m merely trying to keep you safe.”

Safe my ass, she thought. “I can do as I wish, Rufus, and you, of all people, can’t stop me.” With a wave of her hand, all the flowers that had poured over the floor gently levitated back into her basket. “Plus, I’m sure Tseng’s got eyes on me right now,” she looked at the wall of windows beside her, spotting a hawk, then looked at the dark-haired man, “Isn’t that right?”

Tseng was a master at keeping a straight face, but the corner of his mouth did constrict. “I am afraid I don’t know what you mean, Your Highness.”

Right, Turks and their subtlety, or whatever. “Uh-huh. Whatever the case, as you can see, I’m not participating in any activity that would get me into trouble, therefore you have nothing to worry about. Now then, I hate to take so much of your precious time, I’m sure you must be busy trying to figure out who would dare attempt to murder your dear,” Rufus flinched, “precious,” she smirked, “cousin. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

Before she could walk away, Rufus roughly grabbed her forearm and pulled her towards him, his eyes burning with an anger she was familiar with. “I’m warning you, Aerith,” he scowled, “Don’t do this.”

She bit her lip. Rufus was an asshole through and through, for sure, but he had always shown just a bit more care for her than the Emperor had. A part of her told her that, just maybe, she should heed his warning. However, her heartbeat was far louder and stronger.

She snatched her arm back from his grasp. She reached into her basket and took out a lily, then placed the stem gently behind the Shinra medallion that held his white cape up, the petals nearly covering it entirely. “You're in no position to threaten me, Rufus,” she said cooly, her eyes meeting his with defiance, “Allow me to remind you in case you’ve forgotten: your father doesn’t want you on the throne just as much as he doesn’t want me there.”

His eyes glared at the back of her head as she walked away, grabbing the flower and crushing it in his hand.

***

The barracks were as empty as she had hoped—which lowered the likelihood that one of the knights would recognize her. Perfect. Just one problem.

Aerith had no idea where Cloud’s room was.

She knew the knights slept in a separate area, away from the regular foot soldiers and squires, and that was about it. She couldn’t exactly knock on every door she came across, 1: that would take a lot of time, and 2: her cover might get blown.

Thankfully for her, she came across two young knights—who had clearly only just been promoted given how slack their stances were as they talked to one another. The knights she knew were always stiff and cold—with one exception, of course. She didn’t recognize their faces, and she was really good at remembering faces, so they probably wouldn’t recognize her either. 

She took her chances, putting on an overly cheery tone to her voice as she approached them. “Excuse me?” She said.

The two men looked at her, eyes going wide at the sight of her and their faces turning about two shades of red deeper than they had been. “H-H-How can we-we help, m’lady?” Said the taller of the two.

“Wellll,” Aerith hummed, twirling the end of the braid she wore her hair in, “I was wondering if you could… well…”

She knew she was doing too much, but whatever. The shorter one spoke, “Y-Yes? P-Please, if there’s anything we can do—”

“Could you tell me where Sir Cloud Strife’s room is?”

The two seemed to deflate at her words, and the tallest pointed further down the hallway, “Just down there, fifth from the end and to your left.”

“Thank you both!” She cheerfully waved and walked past them, Cait Sith following close behind.

“That’s the second girl that’s gone to his room today!” She heard one of them mutter.

“Lucky bastard,” the other murmured back.

Aerith didn’t pay much attention to their conversation, not now that she knew she was so close to seeing Cloud again. She stopped in front of the right door, pausing before grabbing the doorknob. What would she say? What could she say other than apologies and “thank-you”s she was almost completely certain Cloud wouldn’t want to hear or would otherwise dismiss entirely. Obviously she was still going to say them, she needed him to know just how much yesterday meant to her. How much he meant to her.

He saved her, in so many ways than just physically. He’d been there with her, for her. He put himself at risk with no regard to his own safety, which as reckless of him as it was, made her heart flutter. No one had ever stuck with her like that, no one had ever spoken so softly and gently with her, no had ever held her hand the way he did: like she was the world. His loyalty knew no bounds, she knew that now more than ever, and the realization made her tear up a bit. Because of the joy or the hints of guilt in her chest, she didn’t know. Only one thing mattered now: she needed him to know that she would always be there for him, too.

She reached for the doorknob, but before she could twist it, the door opened on its own. She was met with a raven-haired woman dressed in a knight’s uniform on the other side, her ruby red eyes looking sad as she gazed into the distance before landing on Aerith’s verdant eyes.

Both women stared at each other for a while, wide-eyed without saying a word. Aerith blinked, which snapped the other woman out of whatever spell had sparked between the two, and she quickly moved out of the way, pointing Aerith towards the room with her arm. “P-Pardon me, my lady! Please, go ahead!”

“Oh,” Aerith blinked, nodding, “Right. Thank you.”

“Of course,” the woman said, her cheeks flushed as she lowered her head, “W-Well then, please excuse me.” She darted down the hallway before Aerith could say anything else—not that she really knew what else she could say. 

“Huh,” was the only thing that came out of Aerith’s mouth, her eyes lingering on the woman, “That’s… a conversation for another day.”

She ushered Cait Sith inside the room before closing the door behind them, sighing as she faced the room. It was a small yet cozy four-wall space, with a single window sat on the brick wall across from her with a desk right beneath it, a tiny hearth on the wall to her right, and, finally, a bed to her left. 

Aerith rushed to its side, her eyes gazing softly at the sleeping man before her. His chest rose steadily with each shallow breath he took. Bandages were wrapped over his bare chest and torso, the rest of him covered by the thinnest blanket Aerith had ever seen. Pale-skinned, purple blotches beneath his eyes, his exposed fingertips turned a light shade of blue. Blonde hair spilled over his pillow, knotted; mouth drawn into a tight frown.

He wasn’t okay, not in the slightest. 

“Cloud,” Aerith wept, worry seeping into her tone. His wounds seemed healed enough, but the poison had clearly not been entirely cleansed from his body. Any of the doctors in the medical wing should’ve had the capability to do it, seeing as they were “the best in the world,” per Shinra’s words, so why didn’t they? So they wouldn’t waste resources? 

She huffed, taking a seat on the wooden stool which was conveniently next to his bed (the woman from earlier had probably used it), placed her basket of flowers on the small table beside his bed, and scooched closer to him. She brushed strands of his hair away from his forehead, gently wiping the beads of sweat forming on it. 

His hands were rough and calloused, strengthened from years of sword training. Yet they were still warm and comforting as she took one of them into hers, and she held it tight, hoping he, too, could feel her warmth. 

Aerith poured her energy into him, closing her eyes as a green glow emerged from her hands. The small tendrils of magic wrapped around Cloud’s arm, moving up and up his body until they covered him entirely. The purple marks beneath his eyes faded, his skin slowly returned to its normal color, and the frown on his mouth lessened. 

Aerith opened her eyes again, smiling slightly: the poison was gone. She stood up and moved closer to him, still holding his hand; she hovered above his head, her bangs mingling with his as she softly called, “Cloud~! Wakey wakey~!”

His eye twitched, and Aerith held her breath. A low groan rumbled from him; he twisted his head from side to side, the hand she wasn’t holding coming up to press against his forehead. He carefully opened his eyes, and she finally met those beautiful cerulean eyes she had come to adore.

They looked at her with both fondness and disbelief, making her smile. “Aerith?” Cloud said, his voice low and gravelly from having not used it in a while.

Something inside Aerith flipped, her heart practically exploding at the sound of her name—with no title attached to it—coming from his lips. The butterflies in her stomach were out of control, her brain gave pause and for a couple seconds she couldn’t think of anything other than kissing him right then and there. 

She didn’t, of course. “Glad you remember me,” she smiled. 

Cloud must’ve still been drowsy from all the sleep, or maybe it was remnants of his fever, because his hand then came up to her face, his fingers lightly tracing her cheekbone. A shiver ran down her spine. “Am I…?”

“Dreaming?”

“Dead.”

Of course he went with the drearier of the two. “No to both, I’m afraid,” she chuckled. Her heart was beating a mile a minute; she was trying her hardest not to drown in his eyes and in his touch—though she had done both long ago. “This is real, Cloud.”

“Real, huh?” He murmured, looking between her eyes and her lips. His hand snaked to the back of her head, gently pulling Aerith closer to him. Their foreheads touched, breaths mingled, and it was getting harder and harder for Aerith to stop herself from kissing him. Especially when he smiled at her like that, like she made him the happiest man in the world. “I like that,” he said, closing his eyes and tilting his head up so their noses touched.

“Cloud,” she said, just above a whisper. No response. “Cloud?” Panic began to settle in her when she gently poked his cheek and he still didn’t react. He was still breathing, his complexion was back to normal, and—she put her ear against his chest—his heart was beating normally too.

She stared at him, flabbergasted. “Are you asleep?” No response, save for a small snore.

Aerith let out a frustrated sigh as she (carefully) let her head flop against Cloud’s chest, her entire face burning furiously. That prick, getting her all giddy just to fall asleep right when things were getting good. The worst part? Aerith knew that, to him, that entire interaction had probably been a fever dream, and he wouldn’t remember any of it when he woke up. He’d be back to his usual restrained self, who thought way too much about his and her respective positions for her liking. He was leaving her to suffer the consequences of his actions by herself, how was that fair?

“Such a jerk,” she murmured, smiling anyway because she couldn’t help it when she was with him.

***

His eyes slowly opened to a familiar brick roof above his head, his head pounding at his temple. Despite that, Cloud’s body felt surprisingly light—he could move, if he wanted to, but he felt so well rested that he kinda just… wanted to keep resting. But he should probably get up, eat something. His stomach was rumbly.

How did he even get to his room? The last thing he remembered was being in the labyrinth, running away from… someone? And…

He sat up immediately, ignoring the pain that shot up through his shoulder and hip. “Princess!”

“Yes?”

Cloud’s head snapped to his right, only to find the verdant eyes he desired to meet already looking at him. Cait Sith was on her lap, napping, while her hand gently raked through his fur. 

Cloud blinked at her, and she blinked back at him. He must be imagining things. “P…Princess?”

“Yeees?” Aerith chirped, trying to hold in her laughter.

That was definitely her voice coming from her face which was on her body which happened to currently be in his room. No, no it couldn’t be. 

He looked down when he felt a light squeeze on his hand, seeing Aerith’s hand delicately holding his. He could feel the warmth of her hand as her fingers traced random patterns on the back of his hand. Oh god she was real.

She was dressed down, like a commoner—must’ve snuck out of her room—and her hair was styled into a simple braid running down her back, her signature ribbon holding it back. Her bangs framed her face like usual, she looked pretty much the same as always, and yet there was something about her today that made her look so, so lovely. Maybe it was her smile, genuine and tender; her lips, red and adorably heart-shaped. Cloud wondered, for a split second, what it would be like to touch them; they looked so soft, so plush, so full, so—.  

Then he suddenly became very aware that he was virtually naked in front of his princess—not to mention his hair was even more of a mess than it usually was—and his cheeks flushed. As subtly as he could, he pulled his blanket up to at least cover his stomach. He didn’t let go of her hand, though.

“W-What are you doing here?” He asked quietly, shyly meeting her eyes.

She tilted her head. “Isn’t it obvious?” It was, in theory. He just couldn’t believe it. “I wanted to check up on you.” 

Hearing her actually say it made Cloud’s entire face heat up. “O-Oh… thank you for the—”

“Yeah, yeah, honors, formality, whatever.” She leaned closer to him, careful not to disturb Cait Sith, and the genuine concern in her eyes made his heart flutter. “How are you feeling?”

So many answers to such a simple question. Confused? Check. Overwhelmed? Somewhat. Embarrassed? Highly. Happy? Extremely. To be fair, though, those were the usual emotions Cloud felt when he was around her. 

Aerith was probably wondering about his physical state of being, though. His headache had disappeared as soon as he laid eyes on her, all that was really bothering him were his wounds—which he was surprised he hadn’t opened after his earlier outburst.

Finally, he settled on just saying, “Stable.”

“Ugh,” Aerith groaned with a roll of her eyes, making Cloud flinch. “You’re just as vague as the Turks sometimes, you know.”

Cloud pouted. “I am not.”

“Sure, sure. Anyway, think you can be a little more specific?”

He sighed. “I really do feel fine, just a little sore.” His shoulder and hip were only slightly killing him.

“I see,” Aerith hummed, running her thumb along his knuckles. 

The worry within him made him give her a once-over, looking for any obvious physical injuries. She appeared to be doing fine; maybe a bit tired if the bags under her eyes were any indication. What a relief, he didn’t know what he would’ve done with himself if she had been injured due to his mistakes. How weak he was to have passed out from some poison; like all those years of intaking small amounts had done nothing at all to his resistance.

Then again… maybe the assassins already knew that.

“Cloud?” Aerith’s soft voice interrupted him.

Crap, spaced out again. “Sorry, did you say something?” 

She shook her head. “No, just wondering if you were okay.” She looked down and, with the hand that wasn’t holding his, started drawing little flower patterns on the back of his hand. “You look like you’re worried about something.”

Read him to filth, like always. Cloud considered, for a moment, telling Aerith of his speculations; to see if maybe he was just overthinking things or if the assassins’ strange behavior was more than him overthinking. But her eyes already looked weary enough, he didn’t want to worry her more—it was his job to be concerned over her, not the other way around. “I’m fine. So, for how long have I been out?”

She noted the not-so-subtle change in topic with a raised brow, but didn’t say anything. “Just over a day. The sun should be setting any time now.” 

A peek out the window revealed the pink and orange sky of late evening. “Oh,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, “Did… did they assign you a new bodyguard?”

“If you had died, maybe. The Turks have been keeping an eye on me in the meantime,” she smirked, leaning close to him again, “Why? Does it bother you that someone else might’ve taken your job, hm?”

His cheeks reddened. “Uh—”

A long, drawn out meow saved him from answering. Cait Sith stretched his legs on Aerith’s lap then leaped onto Cloud’s bed. He nudged his head against Cloud’s arm, and the knight reluctantly scratched him behind the ears.

“Aww, he missed you,” Aerith said, her eyes softening at the sight.

“Yeah, well,” Cloud murmured, unable to keep himself from smiling as the cat started to purr, “The feeling’s not entirely one sided, I suppose.”

“I knew you’d come around to him one day,” she winked, lightly punching him on the arm. When he winced—he tried not to—she gasped and softly put her hand on his arm, “I’m sorry Cloud, it completely slipped my mind.”

“Don’t worry about it, it doesn’t hurt that much,” Cloud reassured, tempted to put a hand over hers as he gazed into her eyes.

“But it still does,” she affirmed, looking down, and Cloud couldn’t say anything to that. He could see the guilt in her eyes, and he had a feeling it wasn’t just because of the arm punch. How could he possibly make her feel better?

Cloud swallowed the knot in his throat. “It’s fine, really.” 

“Is it?” Aerith said, a tad more sarcastically than she meant to.

“Yeah.” She looked up at him, meeting the determination in his eyes. “I don’t mind. A punch isn’t a big deal—it’ll take much more than that to knock me out.”

“Like two stab wounds?”

He knew it, that was what’s really bothering her. Cloud leaned closer to her this time, so close their noses nearly touched. Aerith’s cheeks deepened in color, and he could feel his own following in her footsteps. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

Her eyes went wide. “Cloud,” she said quietly.

He swallowed again, his stomach flipping at the sound of his name. Looking at her lips was a vice he tried so hard to avoid, but alas, all humans eventually fall to sin. He only hoped she didn’t notice.

Before he could embarrass himself any further, he moved back, going back to scratching Cait Sith’s ears. “Plus, the only reason those daggers put me out of commission was ‘cause they were poisoned. I’ve gone through worse just fine.” 

Aerith blinked before giving a soft chuckle. To his surprise, she got up from her stool and sat right beside him. His heart nearly exploded when her arms wrapped tenderly around his neck, careful of his shoulder, and pulled him in to rest his head against her shoulder. 

Her hands raked through his hair, gentle and comforting and soothing him to peace he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. Even so, he was frozen on the spot, unsure if he should reciprocate—and gods did he want to hold her in arms too. Lilies flooded his senses, and he suddenly understood why Shinra described them as intoxicating. 

“Thank you, Cloud,” she cooed in his ear, which reddened at the feel of her warm breath, “I know I keep saying it over and over again lately, but I mean it every time.”

Cloud settled for putting a hand on her arm. “Just doing my job.”

Aerith chuckled, moving away slightly to look him in the eyes. “Always gotta be the cool guy, don’t you?” She teased and he shrugged in return, unable to help a small smile of his own. Her eyes drifted toward the window, and fear struck him, knowing what that meant. “I should probably get going, it’s getting pretty late.”

He wanted her to stay. It was selfish of him, Cloud knew that better than anyone—for a knight to desire his princess was a crime punishable by death. But how could he help himself when she looked at him the way she did? When her embrace was the most warmth he had felt in years of living in a place that had taken all joy from him? She was everything to him: light, the world itself. Cloud revolved around her: he was her moon. 

There was a word in the back of his mind, haunting him, taunting him. He stopped himself from thinking it.

“Right,” he murmured finally.

“Before I go, though,” she reached into the pocket of her dress, “I brought you something.”

Cloud tilted his head. “Hm?”

“Turn around.”

He raised a brow but complied, carefully turning until his back was facing her. Shortly after, he felt Aerith’s fingers thread through his hair, her knuckles brushing against the nape of his neck and sending shivers down his spine. The sensation was relaxing enough to nearly put him to sleep. She carefully combed out any knots with her fingers then gathered it into her hands, and Cloud felt as she wrapped something around it until it was held in his usual ponytail.

“There! All done,” she smiled, sounding very proud of herself.

Cloud reached back to touch his hair, wondering what exactly she had done, when he felt the soft fabric that kept his hair tied. “A ribbon?”

“A blue ribbon! Now we’re matching, see?” Aerith giggled, turning her head to show him her red ribbon. 

“I guess,” he smiled, entirely charmed by her, “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Don’t mention it. Just think of it as a ‘thank-you’ gift.” She stood up and grabbed Cait Sith while he was in the middle of stretching, earning a surprised meow. “I really should be going now.”

“Yeah. Thank you again for—”

Aerith brushed away his bangs with her fingers then pressed a tender kiss against his forehead. Cloud held his breath, feeling like his heart stopped beating the moment her lips touched him. She lingered there for longer than was necessary, longer than was proper, longer than she should—because now the feeling of her petal-soft lips would be the only thing on Cloud’s mind, and the thought of what they might feel on his lips would haunt him for eternity.

She moved away too soon and too late, gazing into his eyes like she was oblivious to his thoughts yet knew everything running through his head. “Good night, Cloud,” she said softly, then a mischievous glint came to her eyes, “You better not come back to work until you’re all better, alright?”

It was hard to come up with any thought when all he wanted was to stare at her lips. “No promises,” he murmured.

“Oh? Then what if I said it’s an order?”

He blinked. That… would be the first official order she’s ever given him. All of her other requests had been just that: requests. She had the power to get him to do as she wished but she never had; Aerith always valued his opinion and took it into consideration. She gave him a choice, even if the choice was always obvious to him.

For her first order to be for him to take care of himself felt fitting—he definitely would’ve gone back to work even if he wasn’t in tip-top shape. She was forcing him to stay put, and it made him smile. “Then I suppose I have no choice but to follow it,” he said.

“Good!” Aerith gave him another kiss on his cheek—seriously, she was going to make him insane—before skipping towards the door, stopping just before leaving, “See you soon, Cloud!”

And she was gone. Cloud was left all on his lonesome, flustered and bemused. He ran a hand down his face to try to mitigate the heat emanating from it. It didn’t help. 

Why did she kiss him so much? Not that Cloud minded— hell, he’d be happy if it happened more often even if it meant his heart would explode—but that was three times within the span of a week, and two of those were in one day. Maybe it was simply pity, or maybe princesses kissing their knights was more common than he thought.

Or maybe, just maybe… she reciprocated.

He shook the thought out of his head as soon as it came and flopped back down against his bed, immediately regretting it as pain sparked on his shoulder. He was growing frustrated, and it was not helped by the fact the smell of lilies lingered all over his room.

Cloud quickly found out with a right-turn of his head that the smell wasn’t simply lingering, it was there. Aerith had left a basket full of lilies and peonies on his bedside—surely she was trying to get him killed. 

He should’ve thrown them out or hid them, maybe even burned them. Instead he picked one of the lilies and ran his fingers through the petals. They were so soft.

Cloud pressed a gentle kiss against one of the petals, now entirely devoted to the lily.

***

Aerith had, of course, scolded him when he went right back to work the very next day. Then Cloud pointed out those flowers she left him had residuals of healing magic, and she didn’t say anything after that. Cloud wasn’t so dense this time: she wanted him back soon, too; and that made him happier than it should’ve. 

The days passed by, each following a similar structure: he and Aerith would water the flowers in her room while she talked about anything that came to mind, then they would eat and play with Cait Sith. Sometimes Aerith would read uninterrupted, sometimes a “teacher” would come by (they wouldn’t really teach, just scold her for hours for “making mistakes” that weren’t real), and other times the pair played board games she had been gifted—and even ones she made up herself.

That was how Cloud learned she was insanely good at chess. He wasn’t exactly the best strategist in the world, so that already had him at a disadvantage, but not winning against her even once definitely hurt his pride a little more than he cared to admit.

Aerith’s kisses also didn’t stop. Every night, when his shift was over, she would leave him with a “see-you-tomorrow” kiss on the cheek that would have him staying up all night. And even some mornings, when she was in a particularly good mood, she gave him “good-morning” kisses, and he didn’t know how many more kisses he could take before he gave her a kiss, and not on the cheek this time.

One quiet afternoon, while Aerith did one of her routine “uninterrupted reading” times, a pen rolled off her table.

“Let me get it,” Cloud said quietly, walking from his post at the door towards her. He kneeled down and picked it up, sneaking a glance at Aerith.

She finished that book already. Not days ago, she finished it yesterday. And the pages… they weren’t really changing. Aerith was turning them, yes, but the amount on each side of the book wasn’t increasing or decreasing in the slightest.

Cloud raised a brow. No, he must be imagining things—maybe all those kisses had finally fried his brain. 

He looked up at Aerith. She wasn’t breathing. Her eyes were open, she looked fine, but she wasn’t breathing. And neither was Cait Sith, who was laying beside her, napping.

“Princess?” He said, though the word sounded foreign addressing whatever was in front of him. Hesitantly, he reached out for “Aerith’s” hand.

His hand went right through hers.

The illusion disappeared—her and Cait Sith.

They were both gone.

Aerith was gone.

Chapter 10: Within the Rotting Pizza

Notes:

oh my goodness im so sorry about the wait! alas finals got the better of me, and then writers block + a bit of laziness LOL. to compensate, here's a long chapter, I hope you enjoy!

She was gone.

The illusion reappeared mere moments after Cloud’s hand went through it.

But Aerith was gone and he had no idea where she’d gone or what happened to her. 

Had she been kidnapped before his very eyes? Had those assassins from a few weeks ago really been targeting her after all?

No, that wasn’t possible. Such illusions weren’t possible with any kind of materia: only someone highly adept in magic would be able to conjure up something like that. There wasn’t any kind of technology capable of creating anything like that either, to his knowledge. Only someone capable of using magic on their own accord could do this—someone like Aerith.

Then… did she run away?

That seemed like the most logical answer. After everything Aerith suffered at the hands of Shinra, he couldn’t blame her for wanting to escape.

Even so, after all the time they spent together—all those caring words, sweet smiles, and tender kisses—Cloud couldn’t help but feel a little betrayed. If she had told him she wanted to leave, he would’ve helped her in a heartbeat; he would’ve taken her to the edge of the world if she wanted to.

But he also understood why Aerith wouldn’t tell anyone, even him: it would’ve simply been too risky. Cloud wasn’t all that trustworthy either, he supposed, since he still had to make daily reports to Hojo about everything she had done that day. 

The question was how she escaped. He’d been standing in front of the main door to her room practically all day, and neither of them had left the room at all. The windows were locked from the outside, so there was no opening from their standpoint. That left Cloud with two options: she used magic to teleport, or there was a secret exit somewhere in her room that led outside. The latter seemed more likely; he recalled those excruciating weeks when he had to memorize a ton of escape routes in case of an emergency. He didn’t know there were any in Aerith’s room though—and Shinra probably didn’t, either. 

There were no obvious secret doors in the sitting room, which left him to assume that it was hidden within her bedchamber. Now that he thought about it, whenever Aerith had her reading times, she would always go into her room before coming back out—before the illusion of her came back out. Had these “reading times” just been an excuse for her to sneak out?

Would she come back, then?

When reading time was over, she would go into her room then come back out—the real Aerith would come back out. The one he could touch, hear, smell. The one who would give him kisses out of nowhere, who would talk his ear off about the most random topics she could think of. His lily would be back, real and breathing.

Cloud should probably wait for her, then. Once she was back, they could talk about, well, everything. 

Or should they?

Maybe he should pretend he wasn’t aware of her outings—keep drowning in worry while she continued to venture out in the streets in blissful ignorance, unaware of his knowledge. He could act clueless while her own act remained undiscovered. He could remain safe in the castle’s walls while she exposed herself to the dangers in Midgar, all alone. 

No, he couldn’t allow that. He was her bodyguard, it was his job to be by her side no matter what. 

Cloud hesitated for a moment before stepping into Aerith’s room. He stopped immediately as a chill ran down his spine—the room was desolate. Not just in the sense that the one who slept there was missing, but there were no flowers; no vases, no fancy decorations, no paintings. The only color came from the pink canopy above Aerith’s bed, a wooden bookshelf housing several books, and the yellow lilies sitting in a small cup on her night table. Ticking of the grandfather clock at the corner near the window was the only sound to disturb the stillness, and the gold light of the evening did nothing to hide the bleakness of the room—not when it was filtered through metal bars.

Was this how Aerith had spent her life? In a cold, dead bedroom—if one could even call it that—all alone, for over a decade. No one to comfort her, no one to hold her, no one to be there for her. Isolated from the rest of the world, treated as less than nothing, used as a test subject, for Odin’s sake.

If Cloud didn’t have higher priorities, he might’ve sparked a rebellion then and there. But he had to persist, just as Aerith had all these years. He had to keep going so that she wouldn’t be alone anymore, so that they could refurbish the entire room to how she wanted it. So that Cloud could be the pillar she could lean on.  

He made his way deeper inside the room. Since he already felt like he was violating Aerith’s privacy by merely entering her room, he decided to start by looking for the most obvious spots for secret exits: under the bed, a loose brick on the wall, an out-of-place book. Unfortunately for Cloud, none of those worked, and which left him to explore the other rooms within the bedroom. He started with the closet.

He shouldn’t have been surprised to find it wasn’t anything all that grand after seeing the state of the bedroom, but it didn’t sour his mouth any less. Aerith’s wardrobe wasn’t shabby, by any means: full of the light, playful dresses she wore on her day-to-day, as well as the occasional ball gown and formalwear here and there. 

A singular mahogany armoire sat at the end of the long hallway, tall enough to reach the ceiling. Made of a set of wooden doors and four drawers stacked on top of each other, Cloud had never felt like more of a creep than when he wrapped his hand around the handles of the doors.

“Please forgive me, Your Highness,” he murmured to himself before throwing the doors open, immediately shutting his eyes to preserve what bit of privacy he could give the princess. Slowly, he forced them open again, expecting the worst, only to be left confused by what he saw.

There was only one garment there: a pristine, silk dress the color of porcelain—sleeveless, only held up by at the shoulders by two gold medallions with lilies engraved on them; from those medallions came strings of gold beads that would surely wrap around the arms of whoever wore the dress. A belt of fresh flowers secured the dress just below the bosom, with a yellow lily acting as its centerpiece. 

The mere sight of it left Cloud breathless, as though he had come upon a sacred item that should only be witnessed from afar. An ancient treasure, passed down for generations until it landed in the right hands. And only from imagining it, Cloud knew that it would only perfectly fit Aerith.

It must mean a lot to her, for it to be the only dress in such a big armoire. Sacrilegious as it was, he gently pushed it aside after carefully scanning the rest of the empty space for any loose piece of wood. He didn’t expect to find an entire slate of wood that was a separate color from the rest of the armoire. So much for being subtle.

Cloud pressed his hand against it and felt it give way beneath his palm. With a harsher push, the slate doubled over, opening a secret door right next to it. Cloud peered inside at the dark, empty hallway that had revealed itself and swallowed. 

“Here goes nothing,” Cloud murmured to himself before climbing inside. The hallway was just wide enough for him to fit and barely tall enough for him to not have to crank his head down. Bricks crumbled all around him, the dust crunching beneath his feet. Despite all that, the structure looked relatively stable, and with a touch to the fire materia allotted to his gauntlet, Cloud held up a small fire to light his way. 

The hallway only went straight down for a couple feet before making a sharp turn to the right, where stairs that would definitely not fit his whole foot awaited him. He descended sideways, pressing his back hard against the wall while keeping a hand on the opposite wall, moving as fast as he could while avoiding missing a step.

As he walked, Cloud’s mind drifted back to Aerith—which was by no means unusual. He was always thinking about her, it felt like. When he was standing, when he was training, when he was awake or asleep. Aerith haunted his every thought. 

It was so strange. He had never cared for the opinions of others (at least that’s what he told himself) yet he found that he, body and soul, sought her out. He felt the need to spend every moment with her—not to trap her as Hojo and all the other higher ups wanted—but to let her be free. Free like she was right now, admittedly, but he wasn’t going after her to hinder her. If she asked him to, Cloud would find a way to get her out of Midgar and away from Shinra’s clutches forever. 

He had never cared about somebody’s affairs this much. Never cared about somebody this much. For him, all of this, this bodyguard business, was so much more than just a job. All he wanted was to protect Aerith, keep her safe, and help her achieve her goals—not because it was what he had to do, but because it was what he wanted to do. And, if she would allow him to stay by her side after all was said and done, he’d be more than happy.

His heart, though, ached to be something more than just a bodyguard.

After a long trek down, Cloud eventually made it to the end of the stairs. It opened up to another very dark, very long hallway—probably lead out of the castle grounds, Cloud figured. He walked for what felt like hours, for so long that he started to see shadows that weren’t his own. Or maybe that was just his imagination.

Eventually, he came across a fork in the road: two paths, one to the left, the other on the right, and it made Cloud realize: how exactly was he going to find Aerith? He’d been so set on going after her that he failed to consider that he had no idea where she had gone in the first place. Midgar was huge and he had no idea where either of those corridors led to; for all he knew, he could be going the very, very opposite way she chose.

Still, he had to choose. Cloud looked back and forth between the paths, looking for any clue of Aerith’s whereabouts. And he found it: a single yellow petal, sitting daintily on the left path. 

“Bingo,” Cloud said, crouching down to pick it up. It was still fresh and soft—a guiding light in an endless darkness. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think Aerith left it behind as a hint for him.

Again he traversed for minutes—or hours, he really couldn’t tell at that point—until he finally reached the end of the corridor. Warm light from above shined upon an old, rusty ladder that looked just about ready to fall apart. He climbed it, cringing every time it squeaked under his weight, and pushed against the wooden hatch that was definitely just as old as the ladder. 

It creaked loudly as he opened it, and he was immediately blinded by the dim light of the late afternoon. The light wasn’t surrounding him, though—it came from in front of him, through a little passage that opened up to somewhere in Midgar. With a huff, he carefully crawled out of the space, covering his eyes from the light and cringing at the familiar scent of Outer Midgar.

“The princess’ guard!”

Cloud looked down to meet a pair of familiar, big, brown eyes. Just his luck. “Oh, hi. You’re, uh, Marlene, right?”

“Uh-huh! What are you doing at the playground, mister?” Asked the young girl. 

“The playground?” Cloud looked at his surroundings, feeling a sense of familiarity. “Is this… the playground outside of Sector 7?”

“Yeah, I’m here with my friend Betty and her dad, what about you?”

“Uh—” A creature walked up next to Marlene. A tiny, fluffy creature of black and white, who started meowing furiously as soon as its head moved up to look at him. Cloud’s eyes widened—he was close. “I’m looking for that cat.”

“You mean Cait Sith?” Marlene crouched down to pick it up, huffing a little as she struggled to lift the rather large cat. “Did Ronna ask you to come get him?”

Now his heart was beating hard against his chest. So she was here. Somewhere in Sector 7, his princess was hiding from Shinra’s eyes. And if Marlene knew who she was—or at least, who her secret identity was—then that led him to conclude they likely met at a place they both frequently visit. “Yeah. She’s probably still at Seventh Heaven, right?”

“Maybe, she usually leaves around this time.”

Then he’d better hurry. “Right, she asked me to come pick Cait Sith up for her.”

“Aww, but we barely got the chance to play,” Marelene pouted, hugging the cat closer to her and earning a surprised meow, “But okay, here. Say bye to Ronna for me, okay?”

“Will do,” Cloud said, taking the cat into his arms. He watched Marlene as she ran back to play with her friend, then quickly turned for the gate into Sector 7. Cait Sith meowed, and Cloud gave it a light scratch on its head, “Yeah, happy to see you, too. Now let’s go get your mom.”

He raced through the streets, trying not to knock into anyone else whilst also ignoring their stares. Must be pretty weird to see a royal knight running frantically through the streets—even more so when said knight was carrying a cat. Any other day he might’ve tried to act with a little more decorum, but not now. Not when he was so close to her.

Seventh Heaven’s sign stood high above the scrap metal houses, a shining, and inviting beacon into its warm, humble abode. Yet for Cloud, the sign had never seemed more intimidating.

He stood just in front of the building, a whirlwind of emotions soaring through him. Cait Sith purred in his arms, letting out a tiny squeak when Cloud pet him a little too hard. “Sorry,” Cloud murmured, but his gaze remained on the windows of the bar. Through them, he could see the large silhouette of Marlene’s father sitting on one of the tables near the front door, his back facing him. Tifa, free from her shift, was running the bar; shuffling between shelves as she prepared her customers’ orders. Cloud didn’t want to disturb her, but if Aerith really was behind those doors, he wouldn’t be able to help whatever came after.

Aerith herself was nowhere in sight. Maybe he had it wrong, maybe she wasn’t here at all. But Cait Sith was—and Aerith would never leave him behind. She might be on her way to pick the cat up from Marlene right now, in which case it’d lead her right back to here. 

Cloud couldn’t really tell what he was feeling. Fear, excitement, nerves, happiness, all of these ran through him like a storm. But above all, one reigned supreme: determination—to see Aerith safe. 

He put Cait Sith down as he climbed up the steps to the bar, then grabbed the doors’ handles. He took a deep, steadying breath, and opened them.

Cait Sith dashed inside immediately, running up to a woman standing before the bar. He swatted at the pink skirts of her dress to earn her attention, eliciting a cute giggle from her as she bent down to pick him up. Her long, brown braid swung over her shoulder as she did, the brown cloak covering her pooling around her ankles. When she stood up straight again, she gave Cait Sith a scratch on the head and spoke—and Cloud’s heart forgot that it was supposed to beat steadily.

“Now how did you get all the way over here, mister?” She said, her voice like sweet honey easing the burning in his throat. “Did you make your way back on your own? Such a smart kitty. But… who opened the doo—”

Her brilliant green eyes met his, and the rest of the world melted away. Suddenly it was just the two of them—alone, with no shackles binding them. Nothing to hold them back. Cloud could run up to her—pick her up, hug her—with no repercussions. And gods did he want to, but now wasn’t the time.

The corners of Aerith’s mouth tilted up—was she that happy to see him?—before promptly settling back down as she, too, realized the situation they found themselves in. They weren’t alone.

“Cloud,” she said, voice just barely above a whisper but he heard her loud and clear.

As did their companions. “Cloud?!” Tifa gasped, whirling around and dropping a glass cup as she did. Her eyes were dismayed, if a bit guilty, as they gazed upon him, but he didn’t turn to look at her—he was trained solely on Aerith.

“Huh?!” Barret spun around on his chair, his face turning into a scowl as his eyes landed on the knight. “You!” He stood from his chair, marching towards Cloud while making to take off the cloak he always wore, and for once Cloud managed to tear his eyes away from Aerith.

“Barret, don’t!” Aerith gasped, frightened, as she set Cait Sith down and rushed toward them.

“Stop it!” Tifa shouted, hopping over the counter.

Cloud hardly had a chance to react when Barret suddenly raised his right arm at him—only that it wasn’t an arm at all. A prosthetic, which initially Cloud thought to be a simple wooden plank until the limbs of a crossbow emerged from it. Swiftly, Barret procured an arrow from a holder on his hip and nocked it: a clear shot to Cloud’s head.

Cloud grimaced—even if he were to draw his sword now, Barret would shoot him dead in an instant. Was this really it? “You’re dead!”

“No!” A flash of brown hair suddenly appeared before Cloud, a gentle yet frantic hand on his chest pushing him back into safety. Cloud gaped at Aerith as she put herself between him and his potential cause of death, not an ounce of fear for her life in her eyes. Tifa, too, stopped in her tracks as she looked at them, nearly bumping into Barret.

Instinctually, Cloud put his hand over Aerith’s and tried to pull her behind him to keep her safe. “Your Highness!” He whispered in her ear, urging her to move.

But Aerith wouldn’t budge—she looked boldly into Barret’s eyes and pushed Cloud further back. Barret seemed to hesitate a little, but his stance didn’t change. “Get out of the way, Aerith.”

Cloud let out a soft gasp. They knew her real identity? “You don’t have to do this,” Aerith insisted, “He’s my bodyguard— my knight. He’s—”

“He’s a Shinra mutt!”

“Barret—!”

“You know the rules, Aerith,” Barret said in a low voice, his eyes burning into Cloud’s.

“Stop it, please! Cloud’s my friend, and a big deal in the military,” Tifa pleaded, tugging on his weaponed arm, “if he were to suddenly go missing, then—”

“So what? We let him go so he can spill the beans to his master like a good dog would?” Barret didn’t move in the slightest, “Bullshit.”

This wasn’t going anywhere. Cloud didn’t have a single clue what was happening yet Barret seemed unconvinced of that. An arrow was still pointed at Cloud’s head, ready to end him at the pull of a trigger, and Aerith was in the way . Cloud didn’t care what happened to him—if Barret was really going to shoot him now for whatever reason he had come up with in his mind, so be it—but he wasn’t going to let Aerith get hurt in the process. He would never forgive himself if he let that happen.

“Your Highness, please, I can handle him,” Cloud whispered to Aerith. He could feel her hand trembling against his chest—had the fear of having an arrow pointed at her settled in? Or was she afraid of something else? Afraid that… she might not be able to stop Barret after all?

But if Aerith was one thing, it was determined.

“I trust him.”

The room went still. Cloud felt his heart leap out of his chest; the tight string that had tied itself around his heart—that had tried so hard to keep it at an even, composed rate—had snapped free because of her words.  

“He’s always been on my side,” Aerith continued. Her hand was no longer shaking “He’s there for me, he protects me—from Shinra or anyone else that might be a threat. I trust him with my life. So please, Barret, I’m asking you,” she looked at Tifa, “both of you: trust in him, too.”

Cloud was blinded by her, by the shining ray of light that illuminates the darkest pit of his weary soul. She rejuvenates him, makes him feel alive in a way he’d never felt before. A flower bloomed in his chest—this one he couldn’t name, but it was beautiful and delicate nonetheless—and he wished to care for it, nurture it until it grew and grew and took over his whole being. 

And this flower seeked her out, ached to wrap itself around her and keep her close, keep her safe, as if it could only grow if she was around. And he would keep her safe. 

He placed a steady hand on Aerith’s shoulder, feeling her flinch under his touch as if she had just snapped out of a trance. She looked up at him, eyes shining with concern and cheeks adorably red, her mouth opened as if she just realized she said everything out loud. Like it all came from her heart.

Cloud wasn’t thinking too clearly—he was trying so hard not to drown in her eyes—and mindlessly tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers linger on her earlobe as he watched the color of her cheeks deepen. God, she was too beautiful for his own good—and surprisingly fun to tease, to boot.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, then stepped in front of her and met Barret’s daring eyes. The older man hadn’t lowered his weapon, but his expression did appear to loosen a little. Looking at him like this, Cloud thought Barret didn’t seem all that intimidating—scary, sure, but behind that hardened expression, Cloud could see the warm, brown eyes of a worn-out man. Maybe the two of them were alike in that sense.

“I don’t work for Shinra,” Cloud declared proudly.

Tifa’s eyes widened slightly. “That uniform of yours says otherwise,” Barret said.

“They don’t exactly give you special uniforms for being the princess’ bodyguard,” Cloud hummed, reaching back to touch the fabric that kept his hair tied up. He looked at Aerith and gave her a small, teasing smile, “They do give you ribbons, though.” She let out a small chuckle at that, finally releasing the worry that had kept her so tense. 

He kept her gaze, his words directed not at Barret, but to her. He hoped that, just maybe, they would be enough to carry his true feelings across behind veiled words. “I stopped working for Shinra the moment I became Her Highness’ bodyguard. I am loyal to her,” he tilted his head down, in awe at the way her pupils grew and cheeks grew redder, “And only to her.”

And he meant it. There was no one else he would rather serve, rather spend time with, rather be with for the rest of time. Aerith was his world, his star; and though she deserved far better than the broken, tired man he was, Cloud selfishly wished to be the only satellite to forever orbit her.

“Cloud,” she breathed, and his name in her voice was enough to make his knees go weak. 

Barret grumbled, finally lowering his weapon. “Fine! If Aerith says we can trust you, then I believe her.” The taller man’s resounding footsteps reminded Cloud that he and Aerith weren’t the only ones there, and he quickly turned around to meet Barret’s face far too close to his. “But if I find out you let out even a single peep about what goes on in here, I’ll—”

“I can’t peep about anything even if I wanted to,” Cloud spat back, “I still have no idea what’s going on here.”

Barret stumbled back. “That’s— uh—”

“This is Avalanche.”

Everyone turned to look at Tifa. Cloud’s eyes widened, “What?”

“Tifa—”

“There’s no point in hiding it from him anymore, Barret,” Tifa reasoned, and Barret found nothing else to say. “We’re a splinter cell of Avalanche, to be more specific. We…”she bit her lip, “We were responsible for destroying Outpost 1.”

Cloud felt his knees go weak again, but for different reasons. The friend he’s known since childhood, who he helped join the knights, was actually a member of a terrorist group those very knights were trying to fight against. He didn’t know if he should be angry or disappointed—at her or at himself—but he did know one thing: he wasn’t entirely surprised. Tifa had never been shy about her disdain for Shinra (and who could blame her) but for her to join a terrorist group felt so… extreme. So dangerous. 

Why… why had she never told him? They might have been able to work together then: he could’ve fed them info, gone on missions with them, anything to lessen the risks. But Tifa never said a word, and he supposed he was too caught up in his own world to notice anything suspicious.

Tifa’s eyes were filled with guilt as she looked at him, probably thinking the same things he was.

“I see,” was all Cloud said for a while. He felt Aerith’s hand lightly squeeze his bicep—a reassuring gesture,  a cue that it was time to go, and a reminder that she, too, was putting her life at such high risk. “We’ve gotta get going.”

“Cloud,” Tifa called, stepping forward.

His eyebrows furrowed. “We’ll… talk later. C’mon, Cait.” 

The cat waddled up to the pair and jumped into Aerith’s arms, nuzzling its head against her shoulder. Aerith smiled and flipped her hood on, then looked at Barret and Tifa apologetically, “Sorry, but we’ve gotta get back to the castle before the Turks find out we—er, Cloud is gone.”

Barret sighed, scratching the back of his head. “Alright, you be careful. Oh, and if you run into Marlene, remind her to come back home before the sun’s down?”

“Will do,” Aerith nodded, then reached down and grabbed Cloud’s hand, making the knight jump, “Shall we?”

Cloud felt his cheeks redden and nodded, “Yeah.” He took one last glance at Tifa before letting Aerith guide him out, waving goodbye without seeing if there was a response.

There weren’t many people around Sector 7, surprisingly; Knight and princess walked through the streets in silence—the kind of silence that made Cloud’s stomach churn with unease. When her hand slipped through his fingers, he almost reached out to hold them again—afraid that if he let go, she would go off into danger alone again. 

But she stopped a few steps ahead of him. He heard take a deep breath, her arms wrapping tighter against Cait Sith, then turned to face him.The warm hues of the setting sun cast a halo around her head, washing her in soft light that made her appear heavenly and magical—she never failed to take his breath away. 

“I’m sorry, Cloud,” she said after a small pause, making him flinch, “I really am. I’m… sure you’ve figured it out by now, but I work with Avalanche as an informant,” she chuckled humorlessly, “Well, I say informant but I’m really nothing more than a crappy cartographer.

“I know a lot about Midgar’s infrastructure, about all the hidden tunnels and secret passageways—probably even more than Shinra does. So… When I heard there was a group standing against them, I just… knew I had to help them, somehow.” 

Aerith’s eyes wandered up to the distant outpost of Sector 7, where smoke rose from its open roof. “Y’know, the outposts used to serve a more practical purpose back when I was young. They were basically just look-out towers that housed some military personnel to help keep the peace across Midgar.” She looked at the Plate, still practically brand new from its construction ten years ago. “But now? Shinra’s turned them into facilities to rob the planet of its very essence, and then use that essence to create weapons that decimate people and destroy their lives. The people here, the people of the slums? They don’t look to the outpost as their safety net anymore—no; those buildings, that wall, they’re the things standing between them and a brighter future.

“It took a while, but when I finally managed to track down Avalanche, they of course thought I was just a Shinra spy—can’t really blame them, I’ve been a pretty lackluster princess all these years.”

Cloud felt bile rise up his throat, knowing that, at one point, he too thought her to be weak and pitiful. How wrong he was.

“Once I gave them the blueprints for the outposts—and maps to secret passages leading to them—though, they started to trust me.” There was a small, guilty smile on Aerith as she bit her bottom lip, “I… don’t exactly agree with their methods of taking Shinra down—causes a little too much destruction for my taste—but I also know that, at this point, Shinra is too much of a super-power to take down through more peaceful means, and if we really want to weaken him, then we have to hit him where it really hurts.”

Cloud stared at her, amazed. “So… you’re really determined to take Shinra down?”

She chuckled. “It’s risky, I know; that’s the reason I didn’t tell you about all this, I didn’t want to put you at risk, too.”

Always thinking of others before herself—it was a trait he admired, and one he found to be incredibly dangerous all the same. “You say that as if Shinra wouldn’t also put the blame on me if he found out you’re plotting a rebellion,” he said, his tone clearly teasing.

Aerith giggled. “I guess that’s true. But to answer your question,” she clenched her fist in front of her, the determination in her eyes blazing like a wildfire, “Yes: I will take down Shinra. I won’t let my people or the planet be hurt by his greed anymore.”

Cloud couldn’t help but smile. He really had underestimated—she was tougher than he was. “In that case,” he stepped closer to her, “I’ll help.”

Her eyes went wide for a second before smiling, and she tilted her head in that cute manner she always did. “‘Cause you’re my bodyguard?” She teased.

Now that his head was a little clearer, he remembered the things he’d said back at Seventh Heaven and felt his cheeks redden—not because he regretted saying them, but he kinda wished he’d said them in a more… private area. He also wished he could tell her so much more of what he felt for her, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

“I mean, it’s ‘cause of that, too, but,” Cloud paused.

Aerith stepped closer to him, leaning into his space with that teasing smile of hers. “Buuuut…?”

“Uh.” Not now. He skirted around her and marched back towards the playground. “We… We should hurry back.”

“Now hold on right there, mister!” Aerith grabbed his hand, effectively stopping him in his tracks and pulling him right back to her, “There’s something else I wanna say.”

Cloud swallowed. “Go on.”

She bit her lip, the apples of her cheeks turning rose—and he suddenly felt incredibly nervous. 

“I meant what I said back there,” she asserted, staring right into his eyes. In hers he found not an ounce of hesitation, worry, or doubt: only pure, unwavering truth. And he knew what she meant: back at Seventh Heaven, she—

“I trust you with my heart and soul, Cloud,” she continued, his own heart ready to leap out of his chest, “You make me feel safe, happy, and so, so much more. All the places we’ve gone to, all the memories we’ve made, all the time we’ve spent together, it all means so much to me.” Aerith stepped even closer to him, and for once he didn’t back away. “You mean so much to me, Cloud, and I really need you to know that.” 

It seemed unreal, like the words he was hearing were illusions his mind had come up with to try to fool him into a false sense of unimaginable joy. Aerith’s hand squeezed his and it was real, she was smiling so brightly and it was real, there were tears in his eyes and they were so very real. It seemed impossible for someone to care about him this much and mean it, to like him and mean it. Yet there were no lies in Aerith’s words, no deceit in her eyes; only concern when she noticed the trail of water running down his cheek.

“Cloud? What’s wrong?” She said as she cupped his cheek, so softly and tenderly it made him want to take her in his arms just to feel more of her. He was so used to crying alone—ignored—that having a mere ounce of comfort made him greedy for more. But he wasn’t going to subject Aerith to that ugly side of him.

Cloud kept his composure, wiping away the stray tear. He took her hand in his, wrapping his fingers securely yet delicately around it. Her hand was so much smaller than his, it practically fit entirely in his palm; a perfect fit, if he must say.

“I meant what I said, too,” Cloud said, moving his head closer to hers and smiling at the way her eyes widened, “Whatever you want to do… whatever you decide to do, I’m with you. I’ll always be with you.”

Aerith bit her lip, and his eyes immediately followed the movement. He wished desperately to close the distance, to kiss her until he lost all feeling except for her, until she was his only sense. 

“Are you saying that…’cause you’re my bodyguard?” She asked again.

No more hiding. “No,” he said, meeting her eyes with the same sincerity she held for him, “It’s so much more than that.”

She sucked in a sharp inhale—a gasp? He wasn’t sure, but it was quickly replaced by a smile, the sweetest, most beautiful smile Cloud had seen on her yet. Aerith stood on her toes, the hood of her cloak sliding off her head, and pressed her forehead against his (he leaned down to make it easier for her) and closed her eyes, her smile unchanging, “I appreciate that, Cloud. I really do.”

“It’s nothing, really,” he murmured, closing his eyes and drowning in the sensation of having her so close, of being surrounded by that smell of lilies that he so loved. 

He could’ve stayed that way forever, if it were possible, but rapid swats against his chest managed to break the atmosphere. He opened his eyes and looked down, only to be met by fluff-covered eyes.

Cloud blinked. “Oh—”

“MEOW!!!”

Cait Sith screeched and slapped its paw even harder against Cloud’s chest, even hissing at him. “Cait!” Aerith scolded, moving away from Cloud and grabbing the cat’s paw before it could hit Cloud some more. Her expression softened when it went right back to nuzzling its head against her neck, “Oh Cait, I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to squeeze you.”

The cat only let out a lazy meow in response, while Cloud and Aerith looked at each other and laughed. Cloud felt so much lighter, so alive and the air was easier to breathe and his muscles and bones easier to move. He felt so… free.

He flipped her hood back on and held his hand out to Aerith, smiling. “Let’s go.”

She nodded, cheeks red, and took his hand, “Right!”

They resumed their path to the playground, hand in hand. Cloud still wanted to pull her close and kiss her, but that could wait until they were out of the public eye. And if that was what Aerith wanted. Was he getting ahead of himself? Maybe he was overthinking things, maybe Aerith was doing nothing more than a friendly gesture, maybe—

“Hey, Cloud, I’m kinda curious about something.”

He snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at Aerith. “What is it?”

She met his eyes, tilting her head slightly, “How’d you figure out I was sneaking out?”

“Oh,” he almost sighed in relief—Aerith had a knack for knowing exactly what he was thinking, he’d feared this was one of those situations, “Well… it was fairly obvious once I got close to you. Or should I say the illusion of you?”

Aerith giggled. “Caught me red-handed, huh?”

“Honestly, I always kinda had my suspicions. You don’t seem like a quiet reader.”

“You’re not wrong, I do like sharing the plots of the books I read.”

“Not surprised. But yeah, I noticed that the pages in ‘your’ book weren’t really turning, they just looked like they were. And ‘you’ weren’t breathing either. When I reached out to touch ‘you,’ ‘you’ uh…”

“Disappeared?”

“...Yeah. After that, I figured you must have some secret door somewhere in your room, and I found it after a bit of exploring. When I was in the passage way, I came across a fork in the road and found a fresh lily petal lying around, and who else would carry around flowers other than you?” She giggled at that, and he continued, "Once I made it out, I met Marlene at the playground, gave her your fake name, and she told me where you were."

“Wow, you really noticed all of that?”

Cloud shrugged. “To be fair, I might not have had I not gotten close.”

“I think you would have.”

“Really? Why?”

“Weeeell,” Aerith hummed, “Because you’re the only one who cared enough to check.”

Cloud raised a brow at that. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been sneaking out of the castle for years now—even before I got involved with Avalanche. I had three bodyguards before you, all of them assigned by Shinra, all of them SOLDIERs,” Aerith explained, and Cloud flinched at the mention of SOLDIER. He hadn’t thought about it in so long; once his dream career, now nothing more than a bitter memory. He much preferred being a bodyguard, he’d found. “None of them ever noticed a thing: they all followed Shinra and Hojo’s orders to a T.

“They… never talked to me. Never played games with me or indulged me, never even let me explore the castle,” she looked at him, that same sweet smile adorning her face, “You’re the only one I chose personally, and the only one who’s cared.”

His cheeks reddened and he let out a breathy laugh. He wasn’t used to being chosen. 

A thought crossed his mind, and he asked, “Wait, what happened to those other bodyguards of yours?”

“Hmm?” Aerith smirked, “What, afraid they’re gonna come back and take your job?”

He blushed even harder. “N-No. It just seems strange for Shinra to change your bodyguards that often, especially ones that were SOLDIERs. Isn’t bodyguarding usually, I don’t know, a permanent position?”

Aerith nodded, her lips tilting into a frown. “Yeah, it usually is. I… don’t really know what happened to them. I try not to think too much about it, to be honest. They all just disappeared one day—and all Hojo said when I asked was that they had been sent off on an important mission and would return. But none of them ever came back, they just got replaced.”

A sense of unease settled in Cloud’s stomach. “SOLDIERs going missing? That’s not something that you hear about often.”

Both of them could think of one example, though. “You don’t think there’s some kind of conspiracy there, do you?” Aerith asked.

“Can’t be too sure with Shinra,” Cloud hummed, “Two’s a coincidence, but three? There’s something strange going on.”

“O-Oh,” Aerith shuddered, suddenly feeling her stomach drop. She hadn’t thought about that—she’d always been too scared to think about that. Had her cowardice put Cloud at risk?

“Hey.” She met his eyes and felt his hand squeeze hers, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I’ll be fine. I’m not a SOLDIER, they won’t want me.”

Aerith couldn’t help but chuckle at that, appreciating the attempt to cheer her up. “I certainly hope you’re right.”

 

Before they knew it, they reached the playground of Sector 7. Marlene was nowhere in sight, so they figured she must’ve already left with her friend. Once they were sure no one else was around, Cloud crawled into the playset and opened the hatch, letting Aerith climb down first before he simply hopped down.

“Ooo, so cool,” Aerith wooed, teasing him again. Cloud wouldn’t admit it, but he loved it.

They walked back to the castle, hand in hand while Cloud illuminated their path with his fire materia. When they reached the fork in the road he had encountered earlier, he asked, “Where does that path lead?”

“My nanny’s house,” Aerith answered simply, “Or at least, the house she used to live in before she started working as my nanny, after that she moved to the castle. My father had that path built in case of an emergency, no one would know where to find me. The house is still being taken care of by her old neighbors.”

Cloud nodded. “And your nanny?”

Aerith’s smile turned sad, and he immediately regretted asking. “I don’t know. Shinra let her go as soon as I turned eighteen, and I haven’t heard from her since.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It feels nice to talk about her,” she giggled, letting go of the melancholy in her heart, “She was actually the one who came up with my alias, ‘Ronna Gainsborough!’”

“You don’t look like a Ronna,” Cloud teased.

“That’s what I told her! But I couldn’t change her mind, no matter how hard I tried,” Aerith sighed with fake disappointment, then turned to him energetically, “How about you? Anyone in your life you wanna talk about? You and Tifa seemed pretty close.”

Cloud flinched at the mention of her name. He’d almost forgotten about the debacle that was awaiting him. “...Did she ever mention me?”

Aerith shook her head. “No, I had no idea you knew each other. Probably should’ve guessed though, she told me she was from Nibelheim when we first met a couple months ago, and from what I hear it wasn’t a very big town.”

“Less than not-very-big,” Cloud sighed, earning a giggle from Aerith. At least that explained why Tifa almost always asked about the princess when they were together—the two of them were friends. “Tifa and I… have known each other since we were kids.”

Aerith tilted her head. “Not friends?”

“Not exactly,” Cloud murmured, recalling all those times he’d seen her and her friends wandering around Nibelheim together. “But we are now,” he frowned, “Or at least…”

“Cloud.” He met her eyes, saw the sympathy within them. “You gotta talk to her.”

He sighed, “I know, I know. I just… don’t even know when, both of our schedules are busy, and—”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll get your chance, soon,” Aerith hummed.

Cloud raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Avalanche may or may not be planning on destroying Outpost 5 today.”

“What?!”

“And Barret definitely doesn’t fully trust you yet.”

“You think he’s gonna ask me to destroy the outpost with them?!”

She shrugged. “Call it a hunch.” She squeezed his hand,  “If he does, just make sure you’re careful, okay? I mean, you can always say no, too, but—”

Cloud let out a long sigh. Destroying outposts wasn’t exactly his thing—especially given his position—but if it would help Aerith with her goals, then he supposed he had no choice. He squeezed her hand back, giving her a reassuring smile. “I’ll be careful.”

***

The sun was almost entirely below the horizon by the time they arrived at the castle, and Aerith ushered him back into the sitting room as soon as they emerged from her closet. And good thing she did—a crow flew past just as he situated himself in the entrance. Her illusion was still there, still reading her fake book. Looking at it now, it was so obvious that something wasn’t right, how hadn’t he noticed sooner?

The illusion stood up and walked to Aerith’s bedroom, followed by the fake Cait Sith, and went inside. Shortly after, Aerith emerged again—the real Aerith, smiling widely and brightly at him, now dressed in her usual white and pink dress. He met her with a smile on his own, one that came entirely naturally to him.

She was about to say something when the chimes of a grandfather clock interrupted her, and both of their moods were lightly sullied. “Right on time, huh?” Aerith said, her eyes bittersweet.

“Too on time,” Cloud mumbled, feeling disappointed that their time together was over.

Aerith giggled. “Well, good night, Cloud. See you tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Cloud blinked. That was it? But she hadn’t—no, he was being ridiculous. Before he could stop himself, though, he blurted out, “But what about—” he slapped his hand over his mouth, “uh.”

She raised a brow. “Hm? Oh! Oh my, I can’t believe I almost forgot.” She walked towards him, agonizingly slow and with a coy grin on her face that made him realize: she was definitely teasing him. Again. He really needed to stop falling for her tricks—not that he minded them in the first place.

Aerith wrapped her arms around his neck, he took a sharp inhale. Her face was so close to his—one sudden movement and he’d be kissing her for the rest of his life. Pillowy-soft lips pressed against his cheek, her arms pulling him even closer to her. A servant to desire, Cloud let his hands wander up, moving against her back before gliding down to settle on her hips, pressing her further against his body.

A satisfied hum that he wanted to devour left Aerith’s lips, her sweet smile as she moved away making him dizzy. “Good night, Cloud,” she said, her warm breath fanning against his lips, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

His brows furrowed; he didn’t want to go. “Princess,” he whined.

“Uh-uh,” she giggled, lightly poking his nose with her finger, “No complaining. You’ve already been too risky today.”

“Wonder whose fault that is,” he pouted.

Aerith let out a dramatic gasp, a grin still sprawled across her face. “Hey! You could’ve just waited for me, you know.”

“Yeah, well… I didn’t want to.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, then smiled. She moved away, much to his displeasure, and gently nudged him toward the door, “Alright, mister, get going. I’m sure Hojo must be waiting for your very exciting report.”

Cloud froze. He hadn’t even thought about what he would say to Hojo—what the hell was he supposed to say? 

He reluctantly bid good night to Aerith and (very slowly) left the room, almost immediately collapsing onto the wall in front of him once the door closed. Today had been so eventful, and now that he had a moment to himself it was all starting to catch up to him. 

Not only were his friend and princess affiliated with a terrorist group, but now he was too. It was so risky, too risky; all the work he had put in for the past five years—the hardship, the training, the struggle to keep himself stable—could so easily go down the drain if he messed up. It had been his dream to become someone important: a knight, a SOLDIER. Was he really so willing to throw it all away?

He looked back at Aerith’s room, noticing the lingering shadow of her dress beneath the door, and smiled. He was important—maybe not to as many people as he once had hoped, but knowing that she held him in her thoughts was more than enough for him. Much more than he deserved, even.

He made his way to Hojo’s office, bubbling all kinds of stories in his mind.

However, the doctor was uninterested in the princess’ day, for once. “It is nearly the fifteenth anniversary of the previous emperor and empress’ deaths,” Hojo said casually whilst writing down something at his desk, “Which means it is also nearly time for the princess’ pilgrimage.”

Cloud’s blood ran cold. He hadn’t realized it was already that time of the year—February 5th, the day of the accident. A few days shy of Aerith’s birthday, a date he only knew because Shinra always lamented that it could not be celebrated during her pilgrimage. Looking back on it, it just seemed like a barely-decent excuse to not spend money to celebrate her birthday.

The Walk of The Ancients, as Shinra called it, took place every year, and was a way to honor the late emperor and empress, and to give thanks to the planet for all the resources it provided. A load of propaganda, more like. 

It was a long walk around the entirety of Inner Midgar, which took about a day's time. Aerith was always at the front of the pilgrimage, reciting prayers for her lost family and the planet—but really, everyone knew it was just a way to ridicule her. She walked while Shinra and his son paraded on chocobos; she never stopped while they took as many breaks as they wished. She exhausted herself while they sat on golden thrones.

Just the thought of it made his chest burn with anger. He couldn’t let that happen anymore— wouldn’t. 

“The day of the anniversary will be spent here in Midgar—in mourning ,” Hojo chuckled at that, knowing no one in the castle save for Aerith would actually be mourning, “And two days later, we will depart.”

Right on Aerith’s birthday. Sick bastards, Cloud thought, but kept his face as blank as he could as he said, “Would you like me to create a route around Midgar, sir?”

Hojo cackled, making Cloud flinch. “Oh no, that won’t be necessary, my boy,” Hojo leaned forward on his desk, that wicked smile of his sending shivers down Cloud’s spine, “This year, we’ll be going across the ocean.”

“What?!” Cloud gasped.

“To the Western and Northern continents, to be precise. It’s only right we do something special for the fifteenth anniversary, don’t you think?” Hojo leaned back in his chair and waved his hand at Cloud. “Now go, you’re dismissed. You best start preparing yourself, I am sure it will be a most perilous journey.”

Cloud bit his tongue to keep himself from spewing all the things he wanted to say and ask. “Yes, Your Grace,” he said through gritted teeth, then swiftly left.

Something was wrong about all this. Why would Shinra suddenly decide to change the route after fifteen years? To humiliate Aerith further, to exhaust her more than she already was? Or was he planning something else, something much more nefarious?

Then it clicked. The Walk of the Ancients. Shinra always said it was meant to pay homage to the migratory nature of the Ancients, who spent their lives searching for the fabled Promised Land. Aerith was always the one to lead the walk, and she was an Ancient—a Cetra. 

They were going to force her to find the Promised Land.

 

Chapter 11: A Tower, A Broken Promise

Notes:

Sorry for the wait (again) but I promise the next chapter will be out soon (bc it was originally supposed to be part of this chapter but it got too long LOL)! anyway, enjoy this Cloud-focused chapter!

Cloud sat on his bed with a huff, lazily unbuckling his armor and leather and throwing them aside. Finally, he took off his tunic, leaving himself in his off-white undershirt and black pants, then threw himself back until his back collided with the hard mattress below him. 

He pulled lightly on the ribbon holding his hair up, letting it loose over the mattress. The fabric danced in his hands as he twirled it around his fingers; it was so soft.

“Aerith,” he whispered her name like a prayer; that she would appear in his room and allow him the sin of holding her and kissing her all night. He wanted to feel every part of her and know that she was real, that what they had was real. She haunted his thoughts more than usual—which was always—and not a million confessions would be enough to pardon how terribly, how desperately, he wanted to be by her side.

And now more so than ever. The Walk of The Ancients continued to plague him, the implications it had for Aerith a reminder that Shinra wasn’t afraid of using whatever method necessary to get what he wants. Worse were all his goons, who went along with whatever he said regardless of how ridiculous his ideas were. He had to protect Aerith from them, but how? There was only so much he could do—only so much he could delay— before he got fired (or worse) by Shinra. 

Before he could think anymore about it, a knock at his door interrupted him. Immediately, Cloud knew it wasn’t the person he really wanted to see: the knocking was nowhere near enthusiastic; if anything, it was almost dreary. 

Cloud pushed himself off the bed, tucking his ribbon into the pocket of his pants, and walked to the door. He opened it, and just as he had expected: Tifa was there. She seemed a little on edge when her ruby eyes met his—a bit nervous, maybe? She was in slacks like he was, only that her hair wasn’t tied in its usual bun or ponytail, but rather near the ends with a white ribbon. Somehow, he had a feeling he knew who had given it to her.

“Hey,” Tifa said as casually as she could. 

“Hey,” he answered back, and they settled into a long, awkward silence. Cloud could guess what was going through Tifa’s mind—because it was going through his too: talk now, or after they blow up the outpost? Frankly, Cloud wasn’t really in the mood to get into a deep conversation at that moment. 

“You want me to help with the outpost, right?” He asked in a low voice, though there wasn’t anyone around them.

“Huh?!” She seemed surprised for a moment—like the mission had completely slipped her mind—before letting out a sigh and nodding, “Right. Yeah, Barret doesn’t really trust you, and he figured this would be a good way to ‘proof your loyalty,’ as he put it.”

Cloud scoffed, unable to help but smirk. “Just like Her Highness said…”

“Hm?”

“She had a feeling you’d ask me to help you out.”

“Oh. That makes sense. She is pretty intuitive,” Tifa murmured, a warm smile crossing her lips as she thought of Aerith. “Anyway, you don’t have to agree or anything, but…”

“I’ll go get my things,” Cloud said, and as he was about to step back into his room, Tifa grabbed his arm.

“Don’t bother,” she said, shaking her head, “Using any of the military’s gear could be incriminating if we run into trouble. We already have gear for you to use.”

Cloud nodded. “Alright. Lead the way then.”

Tifa returned his nod and led him out of the barracks into the stables, where they grabbed their chocobos and made for Sector 7. Not a word was uttered the entire time; both were too scared, too nervous, to say anything. Cloud wasn’t really sure what it was that he even wanted to hear; an explanation, an apology? But for what exactly? Tifa had a right to have her own secrets too, he himself certainly had his fair share of them, it’d be hypocritical to demand answers from her, wouldn’t it? 

And yet, it still stung that his fellow survivor, someone he had known since his childhood, someone he thought of as his friend, still couldn’t trust him. Still…excluded him.

Cloud remembered watching them from afar: the “Four Fiends” as the adults of the village had dubbed them. Just a group of kids around the same age that would hang out together all the time. Tifa, Emilio, Tyler, Lester. And never Cloud.

He wished he could say it never bothered him, that he never cast longing gazes in their direction, or ached for them to notice him just once. Back then, he used to think he was better than them—that he was simply too mature to hang out with a ragtag group like them. He would prove how cool he was— they would finally let him in— once he became something big. 

He wouldn’t be the kid who almost led Tifa to her death anymore—no, he’d be the one to save her. 

And maybe it was that train of thought that led him to admire him: Sephiroth.

A chill ran down Cloud’s spine at the mere thought of his name. It was thanks to that that he snapped out of his thoughts and realized they had arrived at Seventh Heaven. Tifa dismounted her chocobo and he followed suit, walking with her into the bar. 

Barret was already inside, along with a stout man and a slender woman that seemed awfully familiar, the latter of whom’s eyes landed on him as soon as he walked in the door.

“Oooo, is this the knight you were talking about, Tifa?” The woman said, her auburn ponytail swaying to the side as she tilted her head. Cloud could feel her eyes scanning him up and down, and he suddenly felt like retreating into himself. “Hmm, are you sure he’s up to it?”

Ow. “Cloud here’s one of the best knights in the ranks, he’ll be helpful,” Tifa said with a smile then turned to him, a teasing glint in her eye, “Right?”

Cloud froze—clearly she was trying to lighten the mood between the two of them. Problem was, Cloud had always been terrible at coming up with responses, and today was no different. An unintentionally dry, “Yeah,” was his response, causing the smile on Tifa’s face to slowly sink back into a slight frown. Shit.

“Welcome to the team, bro!” Said the man, “I’m Wedge, that’s Jessie, and this is—”

Barret was already approaching Cloud by the time Wedge got to introducing him, not that an introduction was necessary. The taller man stopped right in front of him, glaring down at him with the same disdain from earlier that day—albeit maybe a little less. “Be ready in five,” Barret said, then he walked to the side wall of the bar and leaned against it, “Jessie, Wedge, you make sure you take care of Marlene.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know. Just make sure you guys don’t make too much of a racket trying to sneak out,” Jessie said, glancing at the floor below where Barret stood, “Anywho, you better hurry, I bet Biggs is losing his mind worrying right about now.”

“Tifa, it’s alright if we make ourselves some snacks, right?” Wedge asked, rubbing his belly. 

“Of course, take whatever you like,” Tifa nodded with a smile, then turned to Cloud, “Your things are upstairs in the room you stayed in last time. Come back here once you’re done, okay?”

Cloud nodded back and made his way to the stairs. As he passed them, Jessie and Wedge smiled and waved at him before returning to their conversation, and he suddenly remembered where he recognized them from: they were with Barret the night of the destruction of Outpost 1.

He remembered there being another figure with him, must be that “Biggs” person they mentioned.

When he walked into the room, he found an assortment of gear laid across the bed. A black cloak, some extra leather padding for his arms and legs, and a rather corny masquerade mask. None of those things held his attention, however.

The flower was still there. The one Aerith had given him the night they first met, when he’d dropped her off at the servants quarters—the lily was still alive, still thriving in the little mug he’d left it in all those nights ago.

It wasn’t actually that long ago, only a couple weeks at most. And yet, compared to how he was now, the Cloud from that night felt like an entirely different person. He felt lighter now, like so much tension had been eased off his shoulders. And it was all thanks to one crazy pajama lady—who turned out to be so much more than that.

Cloud couldn’t help but smile as he brushed his thumb along the delicate petals, still just as soft as the last time he’d touched them. For a moment, he wondered if Tifa had been taking care of it this whole time, and seeing fresh water inside the mug confirmed his suspicions. 

As much as he wanted to keep admiring the flower, he had work to do, so he quickly equipped all his gear and made to leave. Before that, though, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the flower’s petals—kind of cliche, he knew that, but it reminded him of who was doing all of this for, and gave him the strength to push past the thoughts that began to cloud his head. 

But not entirely. Putting on those low-quality leathers reminded him of home, when he would strap on some piss-poor padding and weights on his arms and shins any time he went to train. His mother would always quietly giggle to herself whenever he left the house in that get-up, but would always encourage him to give it his all nonetheless.

Thinking back on it, all that extra padding did make Cloud look absolutely ridiculous, but he had thought them absolutely necessary to build his strength and defences. He would sneak out the southern entrance of the village and cross the bridge leading to it, then walk to a secluded area where his opponents would wait for him: a single pyretail. 

The first time he came across them, he’d run away immediately—he had come equipped with only a wooden sword. Now he had a leather jacket on, some old pillows strapped to his legs and arms, and a rusty rake as his weapon. He was so ready. 

Cloud held the rake up, determined as he looked into the eyes of his opponent. The wolf growled at him, bearing its fangs as a warning to back off. But Cloud Strife, at nine-years-old, was definitely ready to defeat it.

He got his ass handed back to him. If anything, he barely made it out alive—now covered in cuts, bites, and bruises (and feathers, from the torn pillows), Cloud ran back home in tears and terrified out of his mind. When his mother saw him in that state—she’d been in the middle of leaving the house to go to the general store—she immediately panicked and carried him back inside, making him swear to her he’d never do something like that again.

The people around town whispered, “Always causing trouble, that Strife boy.”

“She should keep him locked up.”

“The accident with Tifa wasn’t even that long ago and he’s already causing trouble again? Unbelievable.”

Cloud didn’t go out for another week after that while he recovered. Thankfully for him his injuries weren’t too serious, barely even surface level—almost as if the pyretail had understood he was just a stupid kid trying to act cool. That had been the first lesson he learned: don’t get too cocky.

A lesson he was, truthfully, still trying to remember in the present. Cloud was self-aware enough to acknowledge he had a bit of an ego that was, at times, annoyingly fragile, but he tried not to let it get the best of him. Not after that day.

When he went downstairs again, he found that Tifa had also changed: she still had the same shirt as earlier, but it was now covered by a black cloak not unlike his own, just shorter, and a black mask that matched his; she also wore tight, black pants that went up to her shins, wine red boots, and simple red leather gloves with metal knuckles engraved in them. 

Their eyes met and she gave him a small smile and a wave, then pointed at the wall Barret had previously been standing by. “This way,” she said, and that’s when Cloud noticed Jessie and Wedge’s notable absence, not to mention Barret’s. He walked up next to Tifa, who offered him another quick smile, then jumped in place.

The floor beneath them trembled for a second, before a small square portion of the floor began to descend, taking them with them. “Woah!” Cloud gasped, momentarily losing his balance.

Tifa chuckled. “Cool, right? The old owner really wanted to put a secret room in the bar, and this is what he came up with,” she explained, “We’ve… remodeled it a bit to suit our purposes.”

“More secret rooms?” Cloud asked, biting back a smile.

“A little more than that. Don’t worry, you’ll find out soon.”

The platform finally reached the bottom, and they found themselves in a mostly barren white room, with the exception of a wooden desk with all sorts of materials laid across it, as well as some chairs. Namely, there was a map of what appeared to be some kind of tunnel system—of Midgar, if Cloud had to hazard a guess—that was probably courtesy of Aerith. 

Barret was there, leaning against one of the walls. Cloud noticed he wasn’t wearing a cloak, and the crossbow prosthetic—if it could even be called that—was out for the world to see. That, and he was holding a sheathed sword in his good hand. 

“Took ya long enough,” Barret huffed as he tossed the sword to Cloud, who caught it easily.

“Sorry about that,” Tifa said, then grabbed a satchel with small pouches sewn into it and strapped it around her hips. She took a materia out of one and tossed it to Cloud, and judging by the static shock he felt as soon as he touched it, it must’ve been lightning materia. “Ready to go?”

“Hell yeah I am! I been waiting for this day for months!” Barret said, cracking a determined grin as he raised his crossbow-arm up. The smile quickly disappeared when his eyes landed on Cloud. “What about you, SOLDIER Boy? Not having any second thoughts, I hope?”

“Nope,” Cloud answered simply. “And I’m not a SOLDIER.”

“Well duh,” Barret motioned with his good hand at Cloud’s limbs, “But surely you’re tryin’ to get in there, ain’t you?”

“You did mention wanting to be one when we were kids,” Tifa murmured.

Cloud tried to keep his frown at bay as awful, terrible memories of embarrassing mistakes he’d made as a teenager started to rise. 

He was thirteen, then. Years of training had gotten him to the point that he wouldn’t be entirely defeated by the pyretail—their matches ended in stalemates now, at least. Honestly, he had no idea why the fiery wolf still stuck around to the same little patch of grass he had first found it in. 

Cloud took a year off after the initial incident and used it to train basic maneuvers—how to actually swing a sword, for one. No one in Nibelheim was actually professionally trained in swordsmanship, and even if anyone were , he doubted they’d want to teach him of all people, so he had to settle for just… winging it. Swing the sword, see and feel what felt right—sore muscles probably meant he was doing something wrong, so he corrected himself. 

It led to a very choppy, very aggressive fighting style that would later earn him ridicule once he received proper training, but it sufficed at the time. 

And there he was, on the cusp of fourteen and facing his nemesis once again. The pyretail didn’t even growl at him anymore, it’d grown used to his visits, and simply got into position. Cloud raised his sword—a real one now, that’d he got from the general store at one hell of a discount (because it was incredibly old and rusty). 

This was it. Cloud could feel it: today was the day he would finally defeat the pyretail. Over the years, he had learned that it was a swift and powerful creature: his best bet would be to be on the defensive, and attack whenever there was an opening. Dodging was his best bet, it always lost its footing when it missed an attack. 

And so he approached it—slowly, kept his eyes on it the whole time. They circled each other for several seconds, and then: the pyretail pounced. It jumped in the air, fangs bared and ready to strike. Cloud already had its attack pattern memorized, however, and he dodged with ease by jumping to the side.

Before the pyretail had the chance to recover, Cloud struck his sword into its neck.

The pyretail fell, and soon turned into several green particles. Cloud hadn’t even broken a sweat. 

“I did it,” he’d said, amazed at how easily he had defeated it. But he didn’t dwell on it much—didn’t think about how old the wolf had been, and how clear it was that it had been at the end of its lifespan—because he had done it.

This was proof. This was all the proof he needed that he was strong, that he could be a hero, too. Just like him. Just like Sephiroth. He was even the same age Sephiroth had been when he first gained fame as a SOLDIER, surely it meant the two of them could be equals.

Cloud ran back to the village, giddy to tell his mom what happened (even if she’d probably scold him for going to fight a monster, like she always did), but stopped in his tracks when he spotted her.

Tifa Lockhart. She was one of the few nobles in Nibelheim—the granddaughter of the town’s baron, though being a noble didn’t really mean much in such a small place. The two of them had sort of been friends before the accident, but not really. Cloud had always looked at her—at her friend group—from afar, always wanting to join but never managing to. The boys around her always followed whatever she said, like she was their leader. If Cloud managed to impress her, then…

Their eyes met, and he took his chance before he could think about it more thoroughly. “After dark,” he’d whispered close to her ear, “Up on the water tower.”

“Okay,” was all she had said in response. 

It was by then that the logical side of his brain finally started to process what he was doing, so he made a swift retreat back to his house. Soon as he was indoors his face started burning, and he wanted nothing more than to take it all back. But it was way too late now.

That night, they met up at the water tower in the center of town. There he told her that he would leave one day, that he would become a SOLDIER and be strong, like Sephiroth. 

He looked at her briefly, and he couldn’t tell what her expression was. She seemed almost… unsurprised, if a little sad. 

“Can you promise me one thing?” She had said out of nowhere, “When we’re older, and you’re a famous SOLDIER… if I’m ever trapped or in trouble…” she bit her lip, “Promise you’ll come and save me.”

Cloud blinked at her. “What?”

“C’mon, pretty please? At least once. Heroes save people, that’s what they do, so…”

She wasn’t exactly giving him much of a choice—pretty hard thing to say no to. Not that he wanted to say no, he just… wasn’t expecting it. But if it made her happy, then…

“Okay. I promise.”

She’d smiled after that, a real and genuine smile, but little did either of them know he’d never even make do on that promise. The next morning, he’d gone to the baron of Nibelheim to ask him if he could apply to become a knight in Midgar. 

That was when he received the news that only children of noble families could join the military.

Teenagers were really too impulsive for his taste, and Cloud was glad he’d grown out of that. He just felt bad he never got to keep that promise to Tifa. 

“Yeah, well,” Cloud said, a little harsher than he meant to, “That was back then, this is now. I told you guys earlier: I’m loyal to Her Highness now. The only position I want is to keep being her bodyguard so I can keep her safe from Shinra’s dirty claws.”

Barret and Tifa shared a glance. “I see,” Barret hummed, scratching his beard, while Tifa walked to one of the walls.

It only clicked then that they were testing him, and he felt bitterness rise in his chest. “So are we leaving or what?”

Barret let out a low, annoyed grumble while Tifa chuckled. “You seem excited,” she said.

Cloud shrugged. “Not really. Just wanna get it over with.”

“Well, let’s not delay the inevitable, then.” Tifa put her hand against the wall and pressed it, an indent sinking in before rising back up once she moved her hand. The room rumbled, then a portion of the wall slowly started sliding to the side, revealing a crudely dug-out tunnel.

Cloud hummed. “You weren’t kidding.”

“Told ya so,” Tifa grinned, then grabbed a lantern that was sitting nearby and lit a small flame inside it using fire materia. “Shall we?”

“Mako Outpost 5, here we come,” Barret grinned, following Tifa into the tunnel. Once Cloud stepped in, Barret pressed another button and the wall closed itself back up. 

Now they were left in complete darkness, with only the light of the lantern to guide their way. “What now?” Cloud asked.

“This place leads to the sewers,” Barret said.

“The sewers?” Cloud winced, scrunching up his nose from just imagining the smell.

“Deal with it. Once we get there, we just gotta follow the map Aerith gave us,” Barret turned to Tifa, “You got it, right?”

“Right here,” she took a folded piece of paper out of one of the pouches on her satchel, “It shouldn’t take long to get to the outpost. Let’s go.”

The trio walked down the tunnel in silence, with Tifa leading them while Barret took up the rear, leaving Cloud sandwiched between the two of them. He could feel Barret’s eyes glaring at the back of his skull as if his gaze was burning through him, overanalyzing every little action Cloud took. He tried his best to ignore it.

Eventually, they came upon a brick wall; with little effort, Tifa pushed it open, and in came the horrible stench of the sewers: A system of round, brick tunnels that ran all across the city, with a channel of water running down the middle and small brick pathways on either side of it. 

Barret closed the hidden door once everyone had made it out, and it assimilated with the rest of the wall perfectly. He shared a knowing glance with Tifa and a nod, and the two of them walked in the same direction. 

Cloud huffed, slightly annoyed, and followed after them. “So is anyone gonna fill me in on the plan or am I just here to be lost?”

“No need for you to know our plan. You’re just here to be a distraction,” Barret said.

Tifa rolled her eyes. “Backup, actually.” She turned her head but kept walking, offering Cloud an apologetic smile, “The outposts are usually pretty heavily guarded. Barret and I should be enough to take care of them, but if the going gets tough…”

“I step in,” Cloud finished.

“Exactly,” she nodded, “After we infiltrate, we just gotta get to the core and destroy it.”

“Blow it up, you mean?”

“Destroy it,” Tifa emphasized, “We don’t know what happened with the last outpost but… it wasn’t supposed to end up that way.” There was a hint of regret in her voice as her eyes wandered down. 

“No use dwellin’ on it,” Barret said, eyes still focused on the road ahead. “What happened, happened, we did what we did, and we move on.”

Tifa nodded, but her lips were still drawn into a thin line. “Right.”

Cloud wasn’t sure what to say, so he moved on. “How’d you guys destroy the last outpost, anyway?”

“That’s none of your—”

“With one of these,” Tifa held a green materia up, “It’s fire and ice materia. If you cast it correctly, you can make it explode.” “Tifa,” Barret groaned, clearly annoyed that she was letting their secrets out so readily.

But she only shrugged. “Cloud is part of the team now. It’s only fair that he gets some of our info.”

Cloud felt his chest flutter—seriously? That was enough to make him happy?—and cleared his throat before he could crack a smile. “I’ve never heard of a combined fire and ice materia.”

“That’s cause it ain’t out for the public yet,” Barret explained, “Y’know Jessie? That girl at the bar? She’s actually an heiress to a noble family in Midgar, one that happens to be in charge of materia production at one of the outposts…”

“She fiddled with the recipe a bit—in secret, of course,” Tifa added, “and made a materia that’ll create a delayed explosion once cast.”

“Our little scientist, that one,” Barret laughed.

Cloud hummed. “Didn’t realize there were people who hated Shinra in Inner Midgar.”

“‘Course there are. There’s people that hate Shinra all around the globe,” Barret shrugged, “Can’t say they all got good intentions, though.”

“Like you guys do?” 

“Hey!” Barret stopped in his tracks and turned around, causing Cloud to nearly bump into his chest. “We’re doin’ this for the planet! Shinra’s draining her dry of her essence, and for what? For our convenience? Bullshit!

“All that bastard’s doing is makin’ her bleed for his own selfish gain. He doesn’t give a damn about what happens to the planet, about how much she suffers, so long as he gets the weapons he needs to fulfill his needs. She’s crying out in pain, and since he won’t listen to it, we will, and we’ll get rid of anything standing between her and peace.”

A couple weeks ago, Cloud might’ve called him crazy for thinking the planet was actually saying anything. The mere thought of the planet having a voice seemed utterly ridiculous: it was just a big rock, how could it possibly talk? But he knew now that there was a whisper over Midgar, perhaps over the entire world. And it made him wonder: had she been hearing it cry all these years? Did she feel the planet’s pain, too, and was that why she always looked so melancholy when she listened to its whispers?

“I get it,” was all Cloud said—not harshly, for he really was starting to feel pity for the planet.

Barret seemed taken aback by Cloud’s reaction, scratching the back of his head as he kept walking down the path. “Right, well… let’s keep going.”

Tifa nodded, but Cloud didn’t miss the way she glanced at him. She also seemed surprised, and there was another emotion in her eyes that he couldn’t quite discern.

More silence, with only the sounds of running and dripping water to fill the air as they continued walking. Eventually they came across a door, with several descending stairs on the other side of it. Another door awaited them at the bottom, and once they opened it, they found themselves in a wide room filled with steam, with several pipes coming up from the floor and digging into the walls. 

“Maintenance room,” Barret said. “Core shouldn’t be too far from here, right?”

“Yeah. We just gotta find the hallway that leads to it, which should be,” Tifa hummed and took a map out of her satchel, “...A couple aisles down.”

“Once we cast the materia, we go out the same way we came in. Let’s move.”

They left the room and dashed towards a hallway just across it, looking out for any guards as they did. The stench of mako was overwhelming, and it only got worse once they reached the core room: flowing mako rushed below them, waves pushing against the platform that contained the core and creating a misty air that reeked of pure earth. 

Barret and Tifa seemed mostly unaffected by the smell, safe for a slight scrunch of their noses, but for Cloud it was unbearable. The mako wrapped around him, squeezing tight around his throat until he had no choice but to inhale it instead of air.

And suddenly he was back there. Tifa’s father lay dead before him, blood flowing out of him like a waterfall and dripping onto the mako pool below. Sounds came from the room just past him, like something heavy falling down several flights of stairs.

Tifa lay on the floor before him, a large gash across her chest that bled and bled and bled and coated his fingers with her blood. He picked her up, and the mere action made her let out an agonized gasp. She was barely conscious, her breath shallow as she struggled to expand her lungs.

“You promised you’d save me,” she had said, her voice barely above a whisper and angry and bitter and sad, “If I was ever… trapped… or in trouble…”

His heart constricted as she went limp in his arms, a pained expression still on her face as he set her down gently beside the stairs. His eyes burned and tears threatened to fall—it was too much. First his mother, his village, the squad he had foolishly tried to lead against the incoming SOLDIERS, Tifa…

All murdered by the hands of one man.

Cloud unsheathed the sword on his hip—the same old, rusty sword he had used to defeat the pyretail two years back. Blinded by rage, he ran up the stairs and burst into the core room, where he awaited.

Sephiroth. The man he had looked up to; who he had regarded as his hero, the hero; whom he had hoped to one day match in strength. Cloud pointed his sword at Sephiroth’s heart. 

He didn’t remember much of what happened after, only the searing pain in his gut and the terrifying anger in Sephiroth’s eyes. When he next regained full consciousness, he was in a hospital in Corel, and Tifa was alive, sitting on his bedside.

“Cloud?”

Her voice snapped him out of the trance. Cloud wearily looked to his side, where Tifa stood with a worried look in her eyes as she gently put a hand on his shoulder. Barret stood further down, eyeing him wearily—and perhaps a bit of pity. 

“You okay?” Tifa asked. There was an understanding in her expression, and he wondered if she, too, was getting memories of that day.

He didn’t bother bringing it up. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

Tifa shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. C’mon, we gotta climb down a couple ladders to get to the core.”

Cloud nodded, and two of them quickly caught up with Barret. The core room was a maze of hanging metal platforms, confusing pathways that would make it hard for anyone to navigate. Tifa had to resort to the map more than once, and it didn’t help that they encountered a few monodrives—a very new kind of security technology—on their way.

When they eventually reached the core itself, Tifa took out the fire and ice materia and was about to put it down, when Barret suddenly snatched it out of her hands. He marched over to Cloud and held the materia out to him. A challenge.

“We got twenty minutes to get out of here once it’s cast before it blows,” Barret said. “Do us the honors, would ya?”

A test. If he did this, Cloud would be abandoning all the work he had put in the past five years. There was no going back—his dreams of SOLDIER, the tears he shed, the pain he endured. 

He took the materia. 

He placed it just below the valve responsible for keeping the outpost running. He could hear gears of the pump turning behind it, though he couldn’t see the actual machine as it was hidden behind plates of metal. 

The materia began to glow dully when he cast it, and liquified Lifestream within the orb began to swirl where it had once been in stasis. The smell of mako was even more pungent there.

Cloud heard Barret let out a low hum, which then turned into a chuckle. “Mission complete!” Barret laughed, then went to high-five Tifa.

“Yeah, we did it!” Tifa grinned as she returned the high-five. She then walked up to Cloud and held her hand up to him, “Nice… job?” 

Cloud didn’t look himself—he was pale, and his brow was furrowed even more so than usual. Like he was on the verge of passing out.

“Hey,” she put a hand on his arm, trying not to let the worry show in her voice. He turned his head to look at her, and he seemed attentive—that was a good sign, at least. “Let’s get going, yeah?”

He slowly nodded. “Yeah.” Thank goodness, he was getting sick of the smell.

The three of them made their escape through the same way they came, as was planned. By the time they reached the sewers again, Cloud heard the distant “boom” of the exploding materia. Assuming security was good at their job, the trio only had a short amount of time before the sewers started being searched for suspects, so they just about ran for their lives back to the secret tunnel.

Barret heaved the door close, and they each took a moment to catch their breath. Cloud noticed the way Tifa eyed him with concern, but honestly, as soon as they left the core room he’d started to feel much better, and that sprint had definitely served to get whatever mako was still in his system out. His head was alright, at most he had a slight headache; his heart, however…

Once they were back in the bar, Cloud and Tifa discarded their disguises and left them in the basement. Even from down there, they could hear a commotion going on outside; Barret and Tifa shared a look before all three of them hopped on the elevator that took them all upstairs.

The bar was just as empty as it was when they left, but its front porch was full of people, watching in horror as Outpost 5 was engulfed in flames.

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me,” Barret groaned as he stared up at the flames.

“Was the recipe wrong again?” Tifa said, horrified.

Cloud hummed, crossing his arms. “It’s either that, or Shinra blew up his own outpost.”

Barret and Tifa looked at him, bewildered. “What?!”

“Think about it, the guy is obsessed with his image. What wouldn’t he do to paint himself as some kinda ‘almighty savior’?”

Barret clicked his tongue. “He’d paint us as more violent than we are. Damn bastard probably had this planned out since the last outpost blew.”

“Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t have tried to destroy the core, then,” Tifa murmured, her eyes downturned. “Doesn’t seem like it was worth it if it’s still going in his favor.”

“Nah, you’re still dealing a heavy blow to him,” Cloud said. She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Two outposts are down, both of which will take a lot of money and resources to fix. Resources that will be taken from… something else.”

“He’s right,” Barret said, “The more we can drain his pockets and stop him from making weapons, the better. Our reputation doesn’t matter in the long run.”

Tifa didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she nodded. “Yeah… you’re right.”

“Hm,” Barret scratched the back of his head, “Well, I’m gonna go check in on Marlene, you two get some rest.” Before he went back inside the bar, Barret gently punched his fist against Cloud’s shoulder, offering him the first genuine smile he’d seen on the man. “You’re not so bad, SOLDIER Boy.”

With that, Barret disappeared behind the doors of Seventh Heaven, leaving Cloud and Tifa by themselves. Tifa’s eyes remained on the flames of the distant outpost, her lips drawn into a tight frown. Cloud knew that now was the time to talk, to say the things on the tip of his tongue—if only he knew what that was. 

“Cloud,” Tifa said, still transfixed on the outpost. She bit her lip, hesitating for only a moment, before continuing, “I’m sure you have a lot of questions. I’ll… answer them as best as I can.”

A lot was an understatement—he had so many he didn’t even know where to begin, or even if he should begin. 

Even so, there were some things gnawing at his brain a little more than others. “How come,” he finally said after a moment of silence, “How come you never told me about Zack?”

Tifa’s eyes went wide, her eyes darting towards him for just a second before going back to the outpost. She squeezed her arm with her other hand, something she usually did when she was nervous, he’d noticed. 

“I honestly didn’t know who he was back in Nibelheim,” she said, “I really thought he was just some random guy that happened to be with Zangan when he rescued us. Never thought he was… the prince of an entire country.

“I only found out once I had joined the military, and by then the two of you had grown so close,” she let out a sigh, squeezing her arm a little tighter, “I did end up talking to him about Nibelheim, once, and he seemed like such a nice person, I just… I don’t know. Guess it just… didn’t seem like a big deal. I’m sorry.”

It was a huge deal, actually. Her casual dismissal of it fanned the flames of his anger, but he quickly extinguished it—there was no point in getting angry at her over that. “It’s fine. Zack and I talked it over already,” he said, softly in an attempt to ease her.

She looked at him, finally, with a slight tilt of her head. “How did you find out, anyway? I somehow doubt Zack was the one to bring it up first…”

“Hey, I thought I was the one asking questions here,” Cloud smirked.

Tifa let out a low chuckle and her shoulders finally slumped. “Fair enough. Got any more?”

Cloud hummed. “How long have you worked with Avalanche?”

“A year after I moved to Midgar,” Tifa said, “I had to work a couple different jobs to pay off my medical debt—” Cloud winced at that, since he had also been on the same boat for a little while, “—And that’s how I ended up meeting Barret and the others. This was actually my first ‘official’ mission, believe it or not.”

She looked like she had more to say but was holding back for whatever reason. Cloud put a hand on her shoulder and nodded, which seemed to be enough encouragement for her to let her thoughts free.

“I hate Shinra,” Tifa seethed, her voice so low and cold that Cloud almost couldn’t believe it was coming from her. “I hate him, everything about him. The Outposts, mako, SOLDIERS—” Cloud winced again “—they all disgust me. They destroyed our village, our home, our parents. So when I found out there was a group trying to rebel against Shinra…”

Cloud nodded, a realization dawning on him. “...You didn’t join to save the planet, did you?”

Tifa let out a sigh. “No. Not initially, at least.” She held her fist out in front of her, squeezing it tightly. “I still do what I do so I can get revenge, but that’s not the only reason anymore. I really do care about the planet now, and about what happens to it. And… even if I’m not the biggest fan of the means, I’ll still see them to the end if it means we can put a stop to Shinra’s tyranny and free Aerith once and for all.”

The mention of Aerith caught Cloud a little off-guard. He thought for a moment about how happy she’d be to learn that he and Tifa were actually talking things out. A shame, then, that he would soon put an end to this amicable talk.

He blurted it out before he could think about it twice. “How… how come you never told me you were in Avalanche?” He hated Shinra, too. He thought he’d made that abundantly clear so many times. He could’ve helped, he could’ve been an inside agent—that way she wouldn’t have to put herself at risk.

Tifa backed away from him, her eyebrows furrowing. “I didn’t want to put you at risk.”

He huffed. “Is that really it?”. He remembered all the looks she gave him, all the glances she shared with Barret. All of them reeked of a lack of trust. “Or did you think I was a Shinra lapdog, too?”

Something seemed to snap in her then, and suddenly the anger in him had completely disappeared. 

“Well, can you blame me?! You left, Cloud,” Tifa growled, and he took one step back. “You left your village, your home.” A little quieter and sadder: “Me.

“You left it all behind, and for what? To join the very people who had destroyed it?!”

“It was the only choice I had!” Cloud snapped back.

“Cloud, you pulled some bullshit-blackmail to get into a position you should’ve never been able to have in the first place!” She took a ragged breath, stepping closer to him. He stepped back, suddenly feeling incredibly nauseous. It’s true he’d used what happened in Nibelheim as a way to get into the knights, but that was only because— “You could’ve found a normal job, like I did, and yet you still went for the knights. How could you expect me to trust you when, even after all Shinra did, you still wanted nothing more than to be a SOLDIER?!”

His head and heart ached and thumped against his skull and ribs, as if both were on the verge of explosion. The fire within them had been cooled off excessively, to the point they would shatter from the slightest touch. 

He just… 

He just wanted to save people.

He’d been so, so useless in Nibelheim.

If he was a SOLDIER, then maybe… maybe he could correct his mistakes.  

Seeing the dejection in Cloud’s eyes, Tifa felt her own anger cool down. All that was left in her was the same sadness that had been plaguing her for five years. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice,” she said cooly, pinching the bridge of her nose. When he didn’t say anything for a while, she sighed. “...See you later, Cloud.”

Tifa walked inside the bar, leaving Cloud alone with his thoughts and the raging fire of the outpost.

***

He didn’t really know how or when he’d gotten back to the castle, only that he was hopping on Piko one moment and walking back to the barracks the other. He had half a mind to be sneaky about it, at least, as guards still roamed about dealing with the explosion at the outpost.

He was so stupid. All this time he had been so blind to the truth—no, he had been ignorant of it. He’d convinced himself he joined the knights because there was no other option, because he had no other options as a poor kid from a backwater town, but that wasn’t true at all. It was just like Tifa had said—no matter how “noble" his reasons had been: he was a Shinra bootlicker to the very end.

And that denial led him to lose the one thing that he had left of home. Cloud didn’t know if Tifa would ever forgive him—he wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t, after the way he spoke to her—but he did want to make it up to her. The question now was how, and he honestly had no idea.

Maybe… he should quit being a knight altogether. He’d thought about it before—after all the times he’d risked his life in the name of the tyrant that destroyed his life, how could he not—but he always dismissed the thought. 

This is the only way I can survive.

Cloud realized it then: he’d been dissociating all these years. He’d detached himself from the grieving boy whose village had burned to flames, and simply grown into the one that had wanted to become someone special. If he only focused on that goal, he wouldn’t have to think about anything else. Not about Nibelheim, his mother. Anything. 

He would be able to save people then; he wouldn’t be the weakling who let his village burn, he wouldn’t be the one to pick up fights with the other village boys, he wouldn’t be the one who was met with scorn—no, he’d be a hero. 

Cloud felt nauseous again. 

There was no noble cause in his decision to become a knight, it had all been out of pure selfishness. A refusal to look at the past and really digest it. And now all those memories were the bile rising up this throat, threatening to burn his esophagus forever.

But he swallowed it down—like all those times he had whenever the grieving boy slipped through the hero. He kept them in his stomach and his brain, engraved them there. Accepted them and the pain they brought. 

And he welcomed the grieving boy, too. 

He took him in his arms, gently rubbing his back as the child cried into his shoulder, and quietly said, “I’m sorry.” The boy turned to look at him. “I’m sorry for neglecting you, I…” he felt tears well up in his own eyes, “I should’ve taken better care of you.

“And I know you want to leave this place; believe me, I do, too, but…”

“But she still needs us, right?”

Cloud’s eyes widened, for the first time noticing the blue ribbon that held the boy’s blond hair in a ponytail. Cloud gave him a bittersweet smile and nodded. “Yeah, yeah she does. Both of us. And we can’t let her down now, can we?”

The boy eagerly shook his head. “Of course not. It’s thanks to her that our heart and mind finally opened up, after all.”

His heart, huh? It did always flutter when he was with her, and she brought out a part of him he didn’t even know existed. A part of him he previously might’ve labeled weak; however, now he knew it was anything but. He nodded again. “She did. And that’s why I want to stay by her side.”

Because I love her.

Cloud and the boy shared a smile, then pressed their foreheads together.

He was back in the garden, on the way to the barracks. He held his blue ribbon tightly in his hands, though he hadn’t realized when he’d grabbed it in the first place. 

Aerith’s tower was in his line of sight, and before he could think twice about it, he ran in its direction.

Chapter 12: A Certain Feeling

Notes:

I hope this will help with recent events (latest EC chapter) :')

Dodging the roaming knights was hardly a problem—there barely were any around the structure. Cloud stopped his sprint once he reached the base, and seeing it from below really put into perspective just how tall it was—not nearly as tall as the rest of the castle, but enough to still be somewhat intimidating. A perfectly secluded prison for an isolated princess, only that he wouldn’t let her be alone anymore.

There was a small balcony branching off Aerith’s bedroom. Cloud didn’t know what possessed him, but he started to climb. He held on to every little nook and cranny he could find; he didn’t care if the rough brick made his fingers bleed, he didn’t care how exhausted he was—or how exhausted he was going to be. He climbed and climbed, until eventually he grabbed the marble railing and hopped over it, safely landing on the balcony. 

Cloud’s lungs burned, his muscles were soup, and his fingers were raw, but he made it. He leaned forward on his knees in a sorry attempt to catch his breath; now that there was oxygen circulating his brain, he started to realize how stupid what he just did was. Why in the world did he climb a gigantic tower—well he knew the answer to that, but knowing the answer made him feel like such a creep. Climbed a whole tower just to see the woman of his dreams, a woman that was probably having dreams at that moment. And here he thought he’d let go of his impulsive tendencies. 

He should leave. He would leave. But… surely one glance at her would be okay, right? As much as he did want to see her, he was also worried. Last time an outpost blew, she had quite the negative reaction, and he wanted to make sure she was feeling alright.

And so, after he’d taken enough breaths to get his lungs working properly again, he looked up.

And she was staring right at him. Big, green eyes stared at him, wide and bewildered. Shit.

“Cloud?” Aerith’s muffled voice came from the other side of the glass doors separating them. She tilted her head, as if she didn’t believe what she was seeing was real—and he couldn’t blame her, what sane person would do what he did, after all? Maybe she thought she was dreaming.

Well. There was no point in trying to be subtle anymore. Cloud stepped up to the doors and gently knocked on the glass, earning a screech from Aerith. He coughed a laugh when Cait Sith—who had been napping happily by Aerith’s legs—jumped out of his sleep and landed on the floor. That, and Aerith’s face as she realized that she wasn’t dreaming and that he was really there.

Immediately, she kicked her covers back and ran towards the door, nearly tripping on her feet as she did. She only stopped when her hands touched the glass and cushioned her almost slamming into it. And seeing her, hair wild and frizzy, loose, white nightgown that hung off her shoulders, eyes wide and given a soft glow from the pale moonlight, made Cloud’s cheeks burn. Aerith was beautiful, no doubt about it, but right now, she was sublime.

  “Cloud!” Aerith said again, the corners of her lips curling into a smile that made his legs weak. She pointed at something on his side of the doors, and when he looked down he noticed that the doorknob was locked—she couldn’t even step into her own balcony?!—and he quickly unlocked it.

Before he had the chance to do it for her, Aerith slammed the doors open—nearly smacking him on the face in the process. “Are you okay?!” She asked.

Of course that’d be her first question. He couldn’t stop his smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Aerith grabbed his hands and held the fleshy mess his palms had become up to him, red lips turned into a frown. “Do these look fine to you, mister?”

Caught red-handed. Literally. “It’s not that bad. Just a couple of scrapes.”

“‘Not bad’ my ass! Honestly, I’m surprised you can even feel anything with them,” she paused, “You can feel my hands, right?”

He was far more amused by her casual sailor-mouth, but he nodded. “Don’t think I would’ve been able to unlock the door otherwise.”

“...Fair point,” Aerith huffed and loosened her grip, then carefully turned his hands around until his palms were facing her. She inspected them diligently, poking at the bits of brick embedded into his flesh, before shaking her head with a sigh. “Looks like it’s all mostly surface level, lucky for you. That said, you’re gonna have to wash them; I can’t heal them with all the debris left in there, it might give you an infection.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“C’mon.” She dragged him gently by his wrist into her room, lit the candle sitting on her night table with magic, then stopped at her bed. “Sit.”

“But—”

“Sit.”

He sat. She let out a satisfied hum as she put her hands on her hips, that cute little smile of hers only solidifying the fact he’d do whatever she asked if it meant he could see that smile again. Cait Sith jumped back on the bed as Aerith retreated to her bathroom, nudging its head against Cloud’s thigh—a not so subtle ask for pets.

Cloud appeased the creature by rubbing its head with the back of his hand, just in time for Aerith to come back. She carried a basin filled with water in her hands, a clean towel hanging from it, and a bottle of something tucked snuggly between her arm. Seeing the water, probably assuming it was a bath waiting to happen, Cait Sith retreated back to the floor and as far away from there as he could go.

“Need help?” Cloud asked Aerith out of instinct, though after a second thought, he doubted he’d be of much help anyway.

“I’ve got it, don’t worry.” Aerith carefully set the basin on her night table. She poured the contents of the bottle into it and mixed them around with the towel, then she sat next to him and carefully grabbed his hand and moved it towards her. There was an apologetic look in her eyes as she spoke, “Just warning you, it’s gonna sting. A lot.”

Cloud just shrugged. The only thing he could focus on was the feeling of his hand on her warm lap, which only made him want to melt into her and seek more of her touch. “I’ll be fine.”

“Always gotta be the cool guy, don’t you?” She teased. He huffed, but smiled anyway—a smile that was quickly replaced by a hiss when Aerith pressed the towel to his flesh.

“...You weren’t kidding,” he said, feeling like his hands were burning.

“I did warn you,” Aerith hummed, lightly dabbing the towel at his hand, “And hey, look at the brightside: your nerves do still work!”

“And here I thought we confirmed that earlier.”

“Better to be safe than sorry!”

They settled into a comfortable silence, with Aerith diligently focusing on her work while Cloud watched her. 

He could feel the tenderness in her touch, the silent apologies for hurting him; he caught the subtle flutter of her lashes whenever she would glance up at him to see how he was doing, and when she saw the smile on his face—that he was hardly aware was even there—her own smile would widen and her lashes would brush against her cheeks once more.

Every rinse of the towel was a bit of his pain erased, a chronic ache that could only be eased by her. By the warmth of her touch, by the gentleness of her gaze, by the curve of her lips. 

When she was done cleaning his hands, she placed the towel back in the basin and took both of his hands in hers. She cupped them in the same way she always did when she held him: like they were the most precious thing in the world—a feeling that he would never grow used to. Nor did he want to, for it was magical every time.

She closed her eyes, a soft green glow emanating from her hands. Ribbons of emerald swirled around their hands— his hands, they dug into him and repaired the broken skin of his palms. Coolness put out the burns, mint and lilies washed over him like a wave of water on a peaceful beach. Whatever tension was left in his muscles was instantly relieved as she put the broken parts of him back together. 

“All done,” Aerith said after a little while, the glow on her hands fading. She looked up at him, with a smile he wanted so badly to kiss. “Feeling better?”

“Feeling great, actually,” he marveled at her work, clenching and unclenching his hand, and gave a smile of his own.

Aerith giggled. “Perfect! It would be pretty bad if my dear bodyguard couldn’t use his hands anymore because he decided to climb an entire tower for whatever reason. How ever would he do his job?”

Cloud couldn’t stop smiling. “I’d find a way.”

The color of her cheeks became the slightest shade deeper. So cute. “I’m sure you would.”

Neither of them let go of the other's hands.

“Sooo,” she said after a short pause, “Why did you climb up here?”

Cloud froze. How could he tell her it was an entirely impulsive decision out of the need to see her? “I just… wanted to check on you.”

Aerith tilted her head. “On me?”

He could feel his cheeks burning. “Y-Yeah. Last time an outpost blew, your reaction was…”

“Oh,” Aerith blinked, “Well…”

“It happened again, didn’t it?”

“...Yes,” Aerith sighed, “It’s like all the whispers trapped within the outposts are finally freed, and so they scream—whether in pain or relief, I don’t really know.”

He hated the way the sparkle in her eyes dimmed. If he could do something to hush the whispers in her head, he would. But he wasn’t a Cetra, he didn't know how. “I’m sorry,” was all he could say, giving her hands a light squeeze.

She shook her head, a sweet smile on her lips. “Don’t be. I’m feeling much better, especially now that you’re here.”

How could she say things like that so casually? He really hoped she couldn’t see how red his cheeks were. It made him so happy that his presence could be comforting for her—after all she’s done for him, being there for her was the least he could do. It was what he wanted to do. And if she was going to be so honest with him, then the least he could do was be just as open as she was.

“...I,” he bit his lip (words really shouldn’t be so hard to say), “I… I also came because…” He met her eyes, so soft and beautiful and patient, and for once swallowed the knot in his throat, “Because I wanted to see you.”

A beat of silence. Aerith’s eyes went wide, and the color of her cheeks got redder and redder as the silence went on. Cloud could feel his heart hammering hard against his chest, loud enough he wouldn’t be surprised if she could hear it, but at the moment he didn’t care. He was enthralled by the way her expression turned sheepish; She tucked her chin into her neck, as if she could hide behind her hair that went over her shoulders, and diverted her gaze. She smiled and giggled, she was shy, something he never thought he would see on Aerith. And she was so cute, so unbelievably cute it made him insane. So insane he nearly let go of her hands to cup her cute cheeks so he could stare into her beautiful eyes and kiss her pretty lips.

“Is that so?” Aerith grinned, staring into his eyes. He recognized the look, the way she could read him like a book, and let himself be completely vulnerable to her. Her smile widened. 

“Y’know, Cloud,” she said softly, leaning in so close their noses almost touched, “You can do whatever you want here.” His eyes widened, his heart feeling like it was about to explode. “No one’s stopping you,” she giggled again, “especially not me.”

Cloud blinked. “Whatever I want?”

She nodded. “Whatever you want.”

With no one to stop him. No one except himself. Cloud knew that it might kill him, but he still let go of her hands. His own snaked around her waist, reveling in the way Aerith’s chest rose in anticipation. Carefully, he pulled her closer to his body without once looking away from her, giving her time to move away if he was being too much. But never once did she hint at discomfort, if anything her smile grew even wider as her hands came up to rest on his shoulders.

One hand on her hip, the other on the small of her back, Cloud held her—not too tight, he didn’t want to hurt her. Hesitantly, he made to lean his head against her shoulder only to hover just above it. Aerith herself gave him the final push; her hand caressing his nape and fingers running through his hair, she gently pulled him to rest fully against her. 

And what a feeling it was. It was so right. Like his body was molded to perfectly fit around hers. Lilies had taken over his senses, Aerith had taken over his senses. He could feel her soft and tender touch, smell the lilies and sunshine in her hair, hear the sound of her heart that beat as loudly as his, see the joy on her face as she cupped his cheek. Only one sense was missing, but it could wait. Right now, right at that very moment, being able to embrace her was so much more than enough.

He pulled her closer still, her legs going over his thighs to accommodate the space. “Is this… is this really okay?” He whispered against her neck, finding a strange pleasure in the way her body shivered at the feeling of his breath against her naked skin.

“It’s more than okay,” she said quietly, “It’s great, actually.”

Cloud chuckled, closing his eyes and reveling in the vibrations of her voice. “What’s so great about it?”

“You really don’t know?”

He could guess. “...No.”

Aerith rolled her eyes as she giggled, knowing he was just playing dense. “It’s you, Cloud. All of you.”

She didn’t need to say it, he got the message loud and clear: he was special to her. All of him was, even the parts of himself that he hated, the parts of him he wanted to erase. The parts he had forgotten and left behind. She cherished him like no other, undeserving though he was. 

He wished he could tell her how much she meant to him, too. He loved her more than life itself, he would do anything if it meant he could see her smile like this every day. Aerith was the sun, the stars, the sky, the earth, the water—every little thing he needed to be and feel alive. Without her he was nothing, without her everything would lose its meaning. But he was still too cowardly to confess. 

Minutes passed, possibly even hours, when Aerith’s chest suddenly rose and stayed that way, as if she was holding her breath. Confused, Cloud moved away slightly so he could look at her: her lips were drawn into a thin line, her eyes shut tight—she was definitely holding her breath. But… why?

He quickly found out why when the longest yawn he’s ever heard escaped from her mouth, finally set free after holding it in for who-knows-who-long. That’s when it occurred to Cloud that it was far, far past midnight. 

“Sorry, I—” she said mid-yawn, “I was trying to—” the yawn got louder, “Hold it in.”

Cloud shook his head, holding back a chuckle. She was so cute. “Don’t apologize. I was the one who barged in here in the middle of the night. Sorry.”

“You aren’t a bother, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Aerith smiled once she finished yawning. And of course that was exactly what he was thinking. “If anything, I’m glad you came. Really glad.”

That made him smile, and almost soothed the ache of his next words. “I should… get going. You need some rest.”

“Says the one that spent the night destroying an outpost,” Aerith said, tenderly cupping his cheek, “You must be exhausted, especially after that climb.”

Cloud shrugged, leaning into her touch ever so slightly. “Not really. Feeling pretty refreshed, actually.”

“Oh?” She leaned close to him, so close their noses touched. Cloud held his breath. “In that case, do you wanna spend the night? I have always wanted to have a sleepover, we could stay up all night and play games!”

His face went beet red. He didn’t want to say no—hell, he’d spend all day and all night with her if he could. But that couldn’t happen, not for now. “Princess…”

Her face fell with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I know.” 

Cloud hated to disappoint her like that, but if Shinra or Hojo found out he’d spent a night with her, they would definitely get rid of him. They’d already tried once before, who was to say they wouldn’t be successful the second time around? If he wasn’t around, there’d be no one to protect Aerith from them and their schemes.

The Walk…

He’d tell her about it in the morning. No use bringing it up now and getting her all worried, she needed all the sleep and rest she could get in these coming days. 

“Cloud?” She eyed him worriedly, “You sure you’re okay?”

He hadn’t realized he spaced out. “Yeah, I’m fine.” He bit his lip. Be sincere. “I… I also don’t wanna leave.”

Aerith’s bright smile came back. “I know. But it’ll only be a couple hours,” she playfully poked his nose, “Try not to miss me too much.”

An impossible task. When she broke their embrace to walk to the balcony, he already missed her touch—a couple hours without even being able to see her felt like torture. 

Cloud followed after her, stopping beside her as she looked over the railing. Stars reflected in her eyes, a million tiny galaxies held within the extremities of the universe that were her irises. They appeared a dark blue at this time of night, but they were no less fascinating and beautiful.

“Wow,” she awed as she looked all around the sky, “I never knew the view from here could be so amazing.”

Cloud shifted slightly closer to her. “It’s even better outside of Midgar,” he said, setting his eyes on the bright city. “The light of the stars gets dull because of all the lights and smog of the city.”

“You mean the sky is even brighter in other places?” Aerith asked, turning to look at him as if she couldn’t believe his words were possible.

There was so little she knew about the world outside of Midgar, Cloud wanted to show her every little detail he knew about it. Even if there wasn’t much he himself knew, he wanted to explore everything about it with her. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling softly, “Like back in Nibelheim: on some really dark nights, you could even see the galaxy itself.”

He almost missed the way her eyes widened at the mention of Nibelheim. “Wow, that sounds beautiful.” Then, almost melancholy, she said, “I wish I could see it.”

“It was,” he said, “There’s other places around the world that are as dark as Nibelheim, though. Probably even darker. I’ll take you to see the galaxy there, some day.”

The way she gasped and smiled was too much for his heart to handle. “You will?!”

Cloud just couldn’t help but smile back. “Yeah. I will.”

Her smile was brighter than any sun, any star, any galaxy ever would be. Aerith was far more beautiful, mysticising, and enthralling; she drew his attention and pulled him in as though it had gravity of her own. 

Aerith pulled him into her orbit, wrapping warm arms around his neck and standing on her tippy-toes to press a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Cloud,” she whispered into his ear. She broke away far too soon for him to enjoy the moment a little longer, but the remnants of her voice still resonated in his ears.

She moved back to the railing and put her hands on it. A white glow soon covered her hands, and two small icicles soon formed; they grew exponentially, longer and thicker, with some even growing sideways, until an entire ladder had formed all the way down the tower.

Aerith moved away with a lighthearted huff, wiping nonexistent sweat off her brow. “Still gotta climb, but at least it won’t be as painful,” she turned to him and winked, “Just make sure you don’t slip, ’kay?”

Cloud chuckled. “I’ll try.” He hopped over easily, then got a firm hold on the ladder—which wasn’t as slippery as he thought it would be, surprisingly. He went down a couple steps until he had a steady grip, his head just barely peeking over the rail, then looked back up at Aerith. 

She leaned over the railing and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, giving him one of those sweet smiles of hers. He loved the way her eyes squinted when she smiled. “See you in a couple hours,” Aerith said fondly.

Cloud smiled back. “Yeah, see you in a bit.”

They stared at each other for a while longer—too long, to the point it became incredibly obvious neither of them wanted to part. Aerith was the one who noticed first, her giggling the sweetest song he’s heard as she lightly poked his forehead, “Go, before someone notices there’s a giant ice ladder coming from the princess’ tower!”

“I am going,” Cloud huffed playfully, then went down one step. “See?”

She laughed. “All the way!”

“Fine,” he sighed with fake disappointment, but he quickly broke into a small smile, “I’ll be back soon.”

Aerith smiled back. “I’ll be waiting.”

***

When morning came a couple hours later, Cloud felt more refreshed than ever. There hadn’t been a night since Nibelheim that had him sleeping all the way through, not even on nights where he was utterly and completely exhausted. And yet, he’d slept like a log all night. Was it because of Aerith, he wondered? Oh, who was he kidding, of course it was because of her.

He trained that morning with a renewed vigor, more determined than ever to hone in his skills. Today, he’d talk about the Walk with Aerith, and if he was going to protect her from whatever plans Shinra had, then he would need his senses and reflexes to be sharp as ever.

There was a newfound pep in his step as he walked to the tower. The castle’s hallways were just as deserted as usual around that area, which made part of him want to simply make a run for it. Just so he could be there early. Definitely not because he wanted to see Aerith as soon as possible.

That sentiment doubled when he approached the entrance to the tower and saw the medical team just as they were leaving it. Cloud felt his stomach drop when he made eye-contact with Hojo, who was leading the team. He didn’t have a good feeling about this.

“Your Grace,” Cloud bowed his head and clasped his hands behind his back, more for restraint than formality.

Hojo looked him up and down, the sneer on his face indistinguishable from his usual expression. “You’re here early. I’ll have you know that you don’t receive any extra pay for working longer than you’re scheduled.”

Cloud swallowed. “I wished to check on Her Highness after last night’s explosion.”

“That’s my job,” Hojo chided but said nothing more about the subject, which Cloud was almost grateful for. Hojo turned to one of his assistants, who handed a piece of paper to him, “Regardless, it is fortunate that I ran into you: here, I was meant to give this to you last night.”

Cloud took the paper from Hojo’s hands and took a quick glance at it: a short list, composed of the names of regions around the world with small details beneath them. Cloud immediately knew what it was. “Is this the route for the Walk of The Ancients?”

“The brief version of it, yes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend to,” Hojo turned and left, along with his medical team. “Oh, and be sure to monitor the princess’ condition.”

Thought that was your job, Cloud thought as he glared at the back of Hojo’s head; though really, he was happy to be the one looking over Aerith if the other option was Hojo. He looked back at the list, reading it over again, when one name jumped out at him like a bear sinking its teeth into his neck.

Nibelheim.

It shouldn’t surprise him. Of course Shinra would rebuild his old home, he was shameless enough to do that. And yet, just seeing the name made his skin crawl all the same. Think about it later, he thought, taking deep breaths to keep himself from breaking, you have more pressing matters right now.

He waited a couple moments for the doctor and his team to walk further away before entering the tower, at which point he ran up the stairs, feeling like he would suffocate if he didn’t reach the top soon. The dread building up inside of him gripped his heart and soured his body with each beat of it. 

Aerith is okay.

She has to be.

Please.

When he reached the top, he held back every nerve that told him to slam the door open. You’re okay.

He knocked. “Princess, it’s me, Cloud.”

One second was already too long. Aerith always answered right away. 

Just as he was about to break whatever locks the door had, he heard small taps coming from the other side and a quick but calm “meow.”

“Cait?” Cloud (somewhat calmly) opened the door, spotting Cait Sith sitting just a couple inches away. He took a look around, realizing that Aerith wasn’t in her sitting room. Her illusion wasn’t there either, so she hadn’t snuck out, which meant…

Cait Sith walked to Aerith’s bedroom door, then started meowing at it while looking at Cloud. Cloud was a little less reserved about going into Aerith’s room now, but he still knocked and excused himself before walking in.

To his relief, he could already see Aerith’s figure lying on her bed. She laid on her side and facing the window, the slow up-and-down movement of her shoulders indicating that she was still asleep. 

He walked up to her in quick but quiet steps—the last thing he wanted to do was disturb her—and kneeled before her, frowning. She was flushed and shivering, her lips pulled into a tight grimace as sweat ran down her brow. Not that he needed any more confirmation, but nonetheless Cloud took his gloves off and gently pressed his hand against her forehead; just as he thought, she was burning up. One quick glance at her hands, which she had up to her chest as if to conserve heat, and he found the cause of her ailment: bandages covering her forearms.

“Hojo,” Cloud scowled. As much as he wanted to go do not-so-pleasant things to the doctor at that moment, he had more pressing matters. 

Cloud had no idea how to take care of a sick person. Whenever he caught a cold, he just took some meds and dealt with it, which usually did the trick. Aerith wasn’t Cloud, though, she couldn’t just pretend she wasn’t sick, nor would he want her to (and she’d probably say the same thing to him).

So he turned to the one thing that might help: his memories. Whenever he got sick as a child, his mother would put a wet rag on his forehead and stomach. That seemed like a good enough start—save for the stomach part, he’d skip that one—so he walked to the bathroom with less uncertainty than normal. Thankfully for him, he quickly found the water basin she had used last night right next to the tub. He filled it up in the sink, then grabbed the towel hanging off metal bars that was right next to it. 

Once he was back in the bedroom, he set the basin down on the night table and dunked the towel in, then thoroughly rinsed it before pressing it on Aerith’s forehead. Her shoulders immediately relaxed as Cloud gently wiped off the beads of sweat off her brow. The frown that had plagued her expression slowly faded away with a satisfied hum, the corners of her lips even turning up into a small smile. 

Cloud smiled back, even if she couldn’t see it. He wiped the sweat off her face and neck, before dunking and rinsing the towel once more and placing it on her forehead. When he touched her cheek, he was relieved to find that her temperature had decreased significantly, and he hoped it stayed that way. 

Just as he was about to move his hand, Aerith suddenly grabbed his wrist. Cloud froze up as she held him tight, pressing his hand further against her face—not to the point that it’d hurt him or her, but steadily enough that he wouldn’t be able to move easily. She was still asleep, or at the very least incredibly drowsy from the fever, but nonetheless she held him like he was her lifeline.

In a quiet, trembling voice, she said, “Stay. Please.”

Those two words were enough to shatter Cloud’s heart to pieces. He let out a shaky breath to keep the tears that burned his eyes from falling, and cupped her sweet face with both of his hands. How long had it been since she’d been treated like this? Since she had someone that looked over her, took care of her while she was sick, been by her side? 

It wasn’t fair. Someone as kind and compassionate as Aerith deserved only the best—not to be thrown aside and forgotten, only to be brought out when necessary. She deserved to be loved just as much as how she loved others, if not more. And Cloud wanted to be the one to do that for her. He was by no means the perfect person to lean on; with all the problems he had, he doubted he ever would be. But if Aerith could rely on him, just a bit, then he was happy to be her cracked yet sturdy pillar.

“I’m here,” he said softly, caressing her cheek with his thumb, “And I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

A single tear ran down her cheek, which he tenderly wiped away as a smile bloomed on her lips.

Her hold on him loosened, and he took the chance to readjust so he could hold both of her hands with only one of his own. He sat beside her on the bed, brushing away the strands of hair over her face with his free hand; she seemed much more relaxed than when he first got there—a good sign that she was getting better. Maybe the cold medicine he got her a while ago would help, he’d have to ask if she had any left once she woke up.

Cait Sith hopped up in front of Cloud, purring and lingering around Aerith’s face. It rubbed its nose gently against hers, lightly tapping its paw against her cheek.

“Hey, watch it,” Cloud huffed playfully, carefully moving its paw away, “Let her sleep, she needs it.” 

Cait Sith let out a grumbly “meow.”

Cloud chuckled. “Are you worried about her? Don’t be, she’ll be okay.” Cloud looked at her, fondness washing over him: the sun washed over Aerith’s face and made her glow like a newly-bloomed flower. “She will be.”

***

Aerith blinked a couple of times before slowly opening her eyes—and then closed them immediately again. Her body felt too heavy to move and too light to control at the same time, a tell-tale sign that she’d been given meds. She groaned to herself: Hojo and his team had come in so early that morning and pulled so much blood out of her that she passed out immediately after they left. One of those needles probably hadn’t actually been for bloodwork, but at some point she stopped being able to tell which ones were and which ones weren’t. Not that it mattered much to her anyway.

“That dick,” she murmured, burying her face further into her pillow. She pulled Cait Sith closer to her, so that his unusually rough head was resting on her chin. Man, he really needed a bath or something; he felt too leathery for a cat that was so full of fluff.

“Cait, did you learn how to cut your own fur?” she yawned, pulling him closer still.

“Not exactly.”

Aerith raised a brow. “Hm? Since when can you talk?”

“‘Been taking lessons while you sleep.”

“Ooooh. Well, why haven’t you ever practiced with—” 

She was talking to a cat. 

No she wasn’t. 

Cat’s can’t talk.

But that voice did sound strangely familiar…

Aerith’s eyes snapped open. She looked down—not far, because he was right there: big, beautiful blue eyes staring right at her mere inches from her face because she had pulled him so far down and left him with no room to escape because his arm was right below her.

And Cloud had the gall to try not to laugh. “Hey.”

She was horrified. She quickly let go and rolled onto her back, finally freeing him from his prison. “Hi,” she squeaked out, unable to look him in the eyes as her face turned at least ten times redder. “I, uh, thought you were the cat.”

At least she wasn’t alone: Cloud’s face was just as red as hers (if not redder) while he cleared his throat. “So I noticed.” 

The real cat, meanwhile, crawled up on her stomach and laid down right on her chest, him and his several, heavy pounds of glory. “You troublemaker,” Aerith sighed, lightly scratching his head.

She heard Cloud chuckle—a sweet melody that she immediately committed to memory—and he appeared in her vision again, leaning over her. The hand she’d been holding captive gently pressed against her forehead, a touch so featherlight she doubted she would’ve felt it were she not watching it happen. 

“How are you feeling?” He asked. His voice was so soft when he spoke to her; it didn’t have an edge to it, nor was he trying to make it sound rougher like he usually did. She noticed it last night, too; it felt more… natural, more real, and it made the butterflies in her stomach flutter.

“I’m okay,” she said and it was true—being around him always made her feel better, “Little drowsy, but okay.”

Cloud smirked, and her heart skipped a beat. “Oh yeah, I noticed the drowsy part.”

And now he was teasing her?! Oh, oh this was too much joy for her to handle in one day. “Hey! It’s not my fault your arm is weirdly cat-shaped!” 

“Is it?”

“...In my fever dreams, apparently.”

Cloud chuckled again, picking up Cait Sith from her chest (thank god because she was starting to suffocate) and placing him on the bed. His hand went to hers, which was at her side; not quite holding it, but his fingers did touch hers. “Make sure to keep my arm away the next time the Princess has a fever, otherwise she’ll think it’s a cat. Got it.”

Aerith’s chest bubbled with glee as she laughed. She didn’t know how he did it—how he made her feel so light and airy, yet completely in control. In a place where she felt like a glorified object, where dictating whispers plagued her every thought, Cloud made her feel like herself. Like Aerith. Just Aerith, not the locked-up princess (despite what he addressed her as) or the last living Cetra. With him, she was just a normal girl without any cares in the world. Even though that wasn’t true, it still meant so much more to her than he could ever imagine.

She snuck a glance at the clock, noticing it was a couple hours past noon. “Wow, I really slept in, huh?”

Cloud scratched the back of his head, “Just a bit.”

“Hmm.” She stretched her arms over her head and sat up, unable to help a mischievous grin as she crawled up to Cloud. The slight fear and excitement in his face made her giggle, “I know it’s a little late, but…”

Aerith threw her arms around him and pressed a long, sweet kiss on his cheek. “Good morning, Cloud,” she said, squeezing him a little tighter before letting her head fall against his shoulder. As per usual whenever she surprised him with a kiss, he was stiff as a board for a few seconds, but eventually melted into her touch. 

She loved the way he wrapped his arms around her—so careful and respectful, like any harsh touch might spook her away. Luckily for him, a bit of roughness wasn’t enough to scare her. 

“Morning,” his voice, dripping with affection and so close to her ear, sent pleasant shivers down her spine. Feeling a bit emboldened, she moved even closer to him, hoping to get just a bit more of the warmth radiating from his body. The way he played with her hair—almost absentmindedly—just made her smile even more.

“Sure you’re okay?” Cloud asked, the worry evident in his tone. If she thought he had only asked that as an excuse to get her to move, he quickly dissuaded those thoughts by pressing her further against him with his palms, his fingers spread across her back.

“Mm-hm,” she said, leaning her head against his, “How about you?”

“Hm?”

“Your hands.”

“Oh.” She felt him clench and unclench his fist against her back. “All back to normal.”

“Good, otherwise you would’ve been in for another round of the burning water.”

“...You’re kidding, right?”

“Guess we’ll never know.”

The shudder that came out of him made her laugh. She started playing with the ribbon in his hair—which, seeing that it was the same one she gave him, made her really happy—and thought up other things to talk about. There was one thing she was sorta curious about, because it involved two of her closest friends (albeit, calling Cloud just a friend felt wrong), so she asked: “How’d it go yesterday?”

“With the outpost? I mean, I think you probably heard how it went. In all literal ways.”

That made her giggle. “Yes, I did hear the outpost, but that’s not what I was talking about.”

“Oh. You mean… with Tifa?”

Aerith noticed the way his tone got a little solemn, and she quickly moved away—just enough to look him in the eyes, and notice the way his were dodging hers. She frowned. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that, it’s just…” Cloud pursed his lips together, as if he was unsure of what he could and couldn’t say. Aerith waited patiently for him to speak—she didn’t want to pry, only for him to share whatever he was comfortable with. 

“I messed up,” he admitted after a while, “But I want to make it up to her.”

Aerith smiled. “You’ll figure out how,” she said gently, flattening the crease between his eyebrows with her finger, “I know you will.”

Cloud stared at her for a moment before breaking into a smile—a smile that could light up the whole world. “Thanks,” he said, leaning into her space a bit, “For believing in me.”

She met him halfway, putting her forehead against his. “I should be the one thanking you ; you always take such good care of me.”

He just hummed in response, pulling her closer to him, and Aerith was more than happy to nuzzle her nose against the crook of his neck. 

Fresh cut grass, cedarwood, a bit of natural musk, and the sky itself: that was Cloud. Where others saw a hardened soldier, Aerith saw his hidden kindness; the true fragility of his heart, and just how much he cared . She wanted to take care of him just as he took care of her—return his kindness—and foster that sweet side of him and let it grow out of its shell.

She felt Cloud shift slightly beneath her. “Princess?” 

“Yes?”

“There’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Aerith moved away slightly, giving him an encouraging smile. “I’m listening.”

He bit his lip. “Did Hojo… did he mention anything about the Walk of The Ancients?”

She felt her mouth sour. There was a tightness in her chest as she averted her gaze, the years of repressed emotions threatening to boil over. 

“He doesn’t have to,” she said solemnly, “I already know it’s bound to happen.” Shinra’s sorry excuse of a “celebration” had drained so much out of her, both physically and mentally. 

Cloud followed her gaze, taking her hands in his and giving them a light squeeze. “Are you angry?” He asked, not in a condescending way but out of genuine concern.

“It’s not just anger,” Aerith sighed. “I don’t hate the concept of it; giving thanks to the planet and helping it grow and heal? That’s what the Cetra do. But being exploited and ridiculed like that, my parents’ deaths being exploited like that, all for the sake of giving an unauthentic ‘thanks’ to the planet? From the very people who are hurting it? Of course it makes me angry. 

“But now, after so many years, I’m just tired of it. Of how fabricated it is.” She looked outside, into the mostly dry and barren Midgar, and at the outposts that drained the few remnants of life in the city. “One day, I’d like to host a proper Walk of The Ancients. One that isn’t just propaganda in disguise—I want one that’s genuine, and definitively heals and helps the planet.”

Cloud squeezed her hand again, and she gathered the courage to look at him again: he was smiling so warmly, like he was proud of her. It made tears sting in her eyes. “That day will be sooner than you think.”

Aerith giggled. “With the rate these outposts are blowing at, you might be right!” She scooched closer to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. “Anyway, why’d you bring up the Walk in the first place?”

“Right,” he said, blushing, and took a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and held it out to her. “I ran into Hojo this morning on my way here and he gave me this. Said it was the route for this year’s Walk.”

She raised a brow at that, taking the paper. “But the route is the same every year, why would they change it now?”

Cloud bit his lip. “Take a look.”

The fact he was being inexplicably cryptic about this raised several bells in her head, but nonetheless she read through the paper, recognizing Hojo’s nearly illegible handwriting.

02/07

• Grasslands

• • Depart Midgar at 5 AM

• • Rest in Kalm

• • Continue to Chocobo Ranch to spend night

02/08

• Junon

• • Depart Chocobo Ranch at 10 AM

• • Arrive in Junon before nightfall

• • Meet with Duke Heidegger

• • Board Shinra-08 to Corel

02/09

• Corel

• • Full rest day at Costa del Sol

• • Meet with Duchess Scarlet

• • Leave for the Gold Carnival in the evening

02/10

• Gongaga

• • Leave Gold Carnival at 10 AM

• • Arrive in Gongaga in the evening

• • Meet with the royal family

02/11

• Cosmo Canyon

• • Leave Gongaga at 10 AM

• • Arrive in Cosmo Canyon in the evening

02/12

• Nibelheim

• • Leave Cosmo Canyon at 10 AM

• • Arrive in Nibelheim in the afternoon

• • Meet with Duke Tuesti

02/13

• Ferry Town

• • Leave Nibelheim at 10 AM

• • Arrive in Ferry Town in the evening

• • Meet with Duke Palmer

• • Board boat to the North

02/14

• Northwood

• • Spend time in the Northwood

• • Depart for Icicle Inn in the late afternoon

02/15-02/16

• Journey to Icicle Inn

02/17

• Icicle Inn

• • Arrive in the morning

• • Leave for Midgar on 2/27

Aerith read the paper over and over again. Had the names of the sectors changed without her knowledge? Or maybe these were simply the names of buildings in Midgar that they would use as rest spots throughout the day? No, there was simply no way that list was real.

But one look at the concern in Cloud’s eyes told her the truth: this was real. “We’re… we’re leaving Midgar?” She said, just barely above a whisper. A nod of confirmation, and the air left her lungs. 

Leaving Midgar… not for a couple hours or even a day, but for almost an entire month seemed, well, impossible. She’d been trapped in the castle for almost two decades, and though the concept of leaving had flown through her mind many times, actually doing it was imposing. There was so much outside of Midgar, so, so much, she didn’t know if she’d be able to handle it. A whole world, bursting with life—the whispers, would they be louder? Or would they even be there at all? She didn’t know, there was so much she didn’t know. 

“Why are they doing this?” Aerith let out a frustrated sigh as she read over the list again, “I don’t understa—” It dawned on her. The Promised Land. “Oh no…”

Cloud hummed. “Looks like Shinra’s getting desperate.”

“But I can’t lead them to the Promised Land! I mean, not that I would even if I could.” 

“You can’t?”

Aerith shook her head. “I don’t know where it is. No one does. You search for it, you travel the world, until you feel it,” she swallowed the lump on her throat, “My mom said that we Cetra would one day return to it, to a land of supreme happiness. She said that… I would find my Promised Land someday.”

“And… it looks like Shinra’s forcing you to find it soon,” Cloud said gently.

“Yeah,” Aerith nodded, “Thing is, I don’t really even know if it’s real. I want to believe it is. Mom said it was, but…”

“Can never be too sure, right?”

She gave a light chuckle. “Right.” She looked over the list again, a little more calmly this time, and frowned as she read over a few of the locations. “Cloud… will you be okay?”

He must’ve known what she was referring to, because he quickly nodded. “Yeah, don’t worry about me.”

An impossible task, especially with the way he stiffened at the mere implication of his hometown, but she dropped the topic regardless as she didn’t want to pressure him too much. Instead, she felt the pressure build over her own gut as she looked at the other locations.

The Northwood and Icicle Inn.

She put a hand over her stomach, feeling it twist uncomfortably. It had been on the road between the two that the carriage carrying her and her family had tipped over and fallen into a river. The thought of going back there, to the place where she had lost her father and parted ways with her mother, made her uneasy. 

Aerith shook the thought out of her head before she could let it get to her too deeply. “We should tell Barret and Tifa about this.”

“I thought about that, too,” Cloud nodded, “It would be a good time for them to strike, with the emperor and prince gone.:

“Well, sure, there’s that, too,” Aerith smiled, “But I somehow have the feeling that Shinra’s counting on an Avalanche attack while he’s gone.”

“...You’re probably right.”

“Which is exactly why we should warn them not to do anything too big. Tiny explosions, if they must do something.”

Cloud was quiet for a little while, making Aerith raise a brow. “Do you think… Do you think Tifa might get deployed on this?”

“Maybe,” Aerith shrugged, “Shinra usually chooses more experienced knights for these Walks, but who knows?”

“I see…”

“It’d be a good opportunity to talk to her, wouldn’t it?”

Cloud cleared his throat. “A-Anyway. I’ll go to Seventh Heaven once my shift is over and let them know.”

“You mean we’ll go to Seventh Heaven once your shift is over and let them know,” Aerith smiled cheekily.

“But you’re sick!”

“Correction: was sick! I’m feeling much better now.” She giggled as she draped her arms lazily around his shoulders, tilting her head in the same way she noticed always got a blush out of him. “So, meet you at the park after your shift?”

And blush he did, indeed! Cloud shook his head with a sigh, his lips cracking into a smile. “As if you’d take no for an answer.”

Oh, she loved him so much. “Aww! Glad you finally get me!”

Notes:

It might be a while until the next chapter since I'll be going on vacation with my family pretty soon, apologies in advance!

Chapter 13: Anxiety

The sun was far below the horizon, encasing the lonely playground of the slums in the dim orange light of firelit lamps. Few lamplighters still roamed the streets; poor gentlemen who were definitely far too old for such work. If they were in Inner Midgar, they wouldn’t have to do this at all—thanks to the “power of mako,” lamps came on all by themselves. If he weren’t currently waiting for Aerith, Cloud might’ve found it in himself to help.

And speaking of, Cloud heard the tell-tale sign of the hatch being opened within the playset. He peeked inside as Aerith let out a little huff while she plopped Cait Sith on the ground. She climbed out soon after that and closed the hatch behind her with ease. 

Aerith didn’t seem at all surprised when she looked up and met Cloud’s eyes, if anything her smile widened. “Heya!” She greeted, happily accepting the hand he offered to help her stand.

“What took you so long?” Cloud pouted a bit, unbeknownst to himself.

She giggled. “Aww, did you miss me?”

“...No.”

“Sure you didn’t. But to answer your question,” she held up a basket full of flowers, “I had to pick these!”

“Please don’t tell me you snuck into the garden.”

“C’mon, I’m not that reckless.”

“You’ve done it before.”

“Once ,” Aerith huffed playfully, breaking into a smile as she poked his nose, “And it ended with us meeting each other! Pretty worth it, if I do say so myself.”

Cloud couldn’t help but blush. “Yeah, otherwise you would’ve been stuck in that maze forever.”

“Hey! I would’ve found my way out eventually!”

“Sure about that?”

“...No,” Aerith shrugged, “Anyway, I was busy trying to decide what flowers to bring.”

He hummed. “They for the bar?”

“No, they’re for an orphanage in the Sector 5 slums,” she looked at them—daisies and chrysanthemums—with a tender gaze, lovingly petting their petals, “You don’t really see real flowers in this part of Midgar. Thought it’d make the kids happy.”

“We can drop them off after Seventh Heaven, if you want,” Cloud suggested, stepping a bit closer to her. He really wanted to hold her hand, but didn’t really have an excuse as to why.

Aerith stared at him for a moment, smiling. “No need, I’m actually dropping ‘em off at Seventh Heaven. One of Tifa’s ‘regulars’ will take them to the kids,” She winked.  

The distant clinking of glass drew their attention, and they both watched as one of the lamplighters moved on to his next target. Aerith had a bittersweet smile as she watched, then she raised her hand in the air and, with a snap of her fingers, all the lamps lining the street were lit. The lamplighter nearly dropped his stick in surprise, wildly looking around his surroundings until his eyes fell on the pair.

His big, burly mustache curled up as he waved at Aerith. “Ronna, it’s you! Thanks for the help, I was starting to think I’d never finish with these suckers!”

Aerith chuckled and waved back. “It’s no trouble! Get home safe, alright?!”

The old man nodded and went on his way. Cloud, meanwhile, stared at her, slightly bewildered. “They know you around here?”

“They know Ronna,” Aerith corrected with a knowing grin, “Don’t worry, most people in the slums haven’t seen my face, and if they have…” She cleared her throat, straightening her stance while speaking in a lower, authoritative voice, “Number one rule of the slums: Mind your business.”

Cloud couldn’t help but chuckle. “Still risky.”

“Relax! At most, people think I’m some rando noble lady who’s crazy enough to hang out around these parts. Besides, I don’t really care if they know.” She looked around the lonely playground—desolate, dull, and broken down, but it was all the people had. 

Aerith took a deep breath. “Right now, I don’t have the power to make everyone’s lives better for the long term. But… if I can make their day-to-day lives a little easier, then taking risks seems worth it to me.”

It was this part of her that he so admired: the way she never gave up. Aerith was always so determined, so positive in her outlook on life that it made him want to look at things a little more positively, too. “Well, as long as you keep your hood on, I don’t see the problem,” Cloud smiled.

“Always!” Aerith smiled, pulling on the hood over her head for point. “Now then, let’s get going, shall we?”

Before he had the chance to answer, she grabbed his hand and started pulling him along Sector 7, calling for Cait Sith to follow behind them. Cloud stared at her, slightly bewildered, then let out a soft and breathy sigh that quickly turned into a smile. 

They walked to Seventh Heaven in relative silence—relative, only because at nearly every corner the people of the slums would stop them to say hello to Aerith, or rather “Ronna,” in their perspective. Cloud had never seen them be so warm and welcoming towards anyone—except for Tifa, maybe—and it was extra surprising to see them offering gifts to her, which Aerith would always decline. 

Everyone seemed drawn to her, and Cloud could easily guess why. In the darkness, she was a beacon of light; she brought the smiles out of the deepest depths of the most weary souls, his own included. Her ability to bring joy to everyone and anyone got to a point that made Cloud wonder if she was just casting happiness spells. Not that he would necessarily mind being under her spell—matter of fact, he already was.

When they finally reached Seventh Heaven, they found the lights on but nobody manning the bar. Cloud’s chest constricted; Tifa wasn’t the type to leave the bar completely alone, and it wasn’t like she was still in her knight shift, she should’ve been off by now. Had she been sent on a mission? If so… for who?

Aerith didn’t seem too troubled by it. She placed the flowers on the counter and slipped her hood off, then walked to the wall with the secret elevator. Two taps of her foot caused a small hatch to open up on the elevator boards, and she crouched down and leaned in real close to it, and shouted, “Anybody home?!”

They waited in silence for a small while, and eventually Aerith let out a sigh. “Guess everyone’s out on a mission…”

“Are they blowing another outpost tonight?” Cloud winced. 

“Not as far as I’m aware.”

“So… they might be?”

“It’s unlikely, buuuuut…” she grinned coyly.

“...It’s possible.”

“Bingo. But I really don’t think so; if anything, they’re probably out doing some recon.” Aerith went behind the counter and crouched down—for long enough for Cloud to curiously walk up to the counter and peek at what she was doing.

“What are you—”

“Looking for pen and paper,” she answered, scanning through the hidden shelves. The space between her brows creased with focus while she fiddled around with the bottles of liquor. “Weird, she usually keeps them—Ah-ha! Here they are!”

She narrowly avoided smacking the back of her head against the counter as she popped back up like a wound up spring, slamming a piece of paper, a feather, and an inkwell on the surface. Her handwriting was light, her wrist worked fast and in very happy loops as she worked out whatever message she had for Tifa. For a moment, Cloud wondered if he should maybe leave a message behind, too. A wellness check, of sorts. Not a terrible idea, but he wondered if Tifa even wanted to hear anything from him right now.

Before he could dwell on it further, Aerith set the pen down and slipped the piece of paper between the petals of her flowers. “All done,” she said, turning to him with a playful grin, “Sorry about the wait, sir! Now then, what can I get for ya?” 

Cloud blinked at her for a moment before giving her a sleazy smile, getting into character as he flopped onto a chair and leaned his arms against the counter. “Real rough night tonite, I tell ya,” he said, putting on the best “cranky old man” voice he could muster, “Gimme the hardest thing ya got.”

Aerith let out the most adorable giggle–clearly happy that he was playing along—and nodded eagerly. “Sir, yes, sir! Coming right up!” 

He bit back a chuckle as he watched her rummage below the counter again, the clinking glass providing the perfect melody for their little stage-play. She reemerged with a crystal cup and a jug filled with clear liquid. A wink—breaking character, Cloud quickly deduced: “Just water, Tifa’s the only one allowed to touch the alcohol,” Aerith whispered before pouring the water into the cup and sliding it towards Cloud, “Here you are, sir! One, uh… C-Cosmo Canyon made extra special just for you!”

Cloud snorted, holding the drink up to his lips. “What’s so special about it?” He asked, though he soon regretted taking a sip when he noticed Aerith was leaning her elbows against the counter, her chin resting on her palms and cupping her face in a most captivating way, and her smile. A bold, familiar heat pooled in his stomach. 

“It was made with lots of love, of course,” she said oh so frustratingly casually. Good thing he didn’t take a big sip, otherwise he’d have made an even bigger mess of himself while he choked. “That’ll be one gil, please!”

“At least wait until I can breathe again to charge me,” Cloud coughed and slid an imaginary coin to her.

“No time for waiting down here in the slums,” Aerith said with a click of her tongue, pretending to closely inspect the gil. Once she was satisfied, she put it in her pocket and winked at him, “Pleasure doing business with ya!”

Cloud let out a scoff of annoyance, putting an end to his character as he turned to her with a small smile. Aerith was leaning on the counter again—close, dangerously close; he could see the jade around her pupils blend into the forest green of her irises, the flickering candlelight spreading specks of gold around her eyes like yellow flowers flowing freely with the breeze in a vast valley. And he found that he desperately wanted to be there—in that place of tranquility and harmony.

He only realized he’d been leaning in when their noses touched.

“Heya,” Aerith smiled tenderly, the mere movement of her lips tearing his gaze away from her eyes. Adding insult to injury, she tilted her head slightly to the side, “What are you thinking about?”

Too much and nothing all at the same time. So much of him was filled with her; his brain, his heart, even his arms and legs responded to her every word. A glance sent shivers down his spine, a smile warmed even the coldest parts of him, and her cheek kisses? Oh, they reduced him to nothing. 

“Nothing much,” he responded, because even the thought of pressing his lips against hers hollowed out his mind so that it would be ready to be flooded with the feeling of her.

“Hmm,” she leaned closer still, his breath hitched. Her eyes held a certain fondness and desire in them, making him wonder if the love she’d mentioned had just been part of their play. “Sure about that?”

There was a whisper, the quietest little voice inside him that shouted that this was a terrible idea. Cloud was her bodyguard and— But I’m not on duty, the even louder voice in him screamed. And it was true, he was off the clock: right now, he was just Cloud Strife, the random peasant who would protect Aerith with his life; not Sir Cloud Strife, Official Knight of Her Royal Highness. 

Maybe it was okay, then, for him to tilt his head to the right. 

Maybe that would be enough to tell her to kiss him silly, as much as she wanted.

But Aerith didn’t move again, she simply smiled.

The doors to the bar opened, forcing Cloud to snap out of his reverie, and blue met ruby.

“Cloud?” Tifa said, perplexed as she closed the door behind her.

“Tifa,” he blinked, just as surprised to see her there (despite the fact it was her bar) and hoping to all things mighty his face wasn’t concerningly red.

“Tifa!” Aerith cheered with her usual cadence as she walked out from behind the counter.

A wide smile—so very different from the shock when she saw him—donned Tifa’s face as her eyes landed on the princess. “Aerith!” She beamed, welcoming Aerith’s hug with open arms.

Cloud’s head was a hurricane of emotions and thoughts—from wandering what the fuck he was doing three seconds ago, to sheer frustration at Aerith’s lack of fluster to his overwhelming amount of it, to slight distress at the juxtaposition between Tifa’s reaction to her two unexpected guest. It took everything in him to not slam his head against the counter and knock himself out.

“What are you guys doing here?” Tifa asked when Aerith broke the hug.

“Dropping off a package,” Aerith nodded her head at the flower basket, “For Biggs.”

“Leaf House or Elmyra’s?”

“Leaf House, please!”

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Tifa chuckled, and Cloud didn’t miss the glance she threw at him. Aerith probably usually made these flower deliveries by herself. 

“How’d recon go?” Aerith asked suddenly.

Tifa gaped at her. “How’d you know?!”

“Lucky guess,” Aerith giggled, “So?”

“It went pretty well, all things considered. Barret’s looking to blow off part of the Plate this time,” there was a knowing smile on her face as she spoke.

Cloud couldn’t see her face, but judging by the way her body tensed, he could garner that Tifa’s words had taken Aerith by surprise. “He’s… going with my idea?” 

“Avalanche’s main goal may be to destroy the outposts and save the planet,” Tifa took Aerith’s hands in hers and gave them a light squeeze, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t engage in some more ‘typical’ revolutionary activities.”

Aerith gave her a soft smile. “That means a lot, really,” her tone soured, “but…”

“I know. The Walk, right?”

Suddenly the hurricane was gone. “You know about it?” Aerith asked.

“I’m going on it! And I just so happened to have been assigned as one of your escort knights,” Tifa winked.

“No way! That’s so exciting!”

“Escort knights?” Cloud said, approaching the two of them. 

To her benefit, Tifa tried not to look startled when she noticed him. Tried. “Uh, yeah! There’ll be a small group of us knights surrounding Aerith during the Walk. Y’know, to leave no openings for surprise attacks.” 

Aerith nodded. “Then again, if there were to be a surprise attack…”

“...It’d probably be from someone on Shinra’s side,” Cloud finished her dreadful sentence.

Tifa let out a long, tired sigh as she ran a hand through her hair. “So I wasn’t wrong for feeling anxious about this whole thing.” She looked between the two of them, her brows furrowing with worry. “Do you really think the emperor will try something?”

Cloud and Aerith glanced at each other, mutual understanding. “It’d be pretty bold, but I wouldn’t exactly put it past him.”

That made Tifa’s anxiety worse, so Aerith quickly followed-up: “But he needs me for something, so the chances of him trying to kill me are pretty low. Maybe he just ties me to a chocobo so I can’t run away!”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” Tifa chuckled, slightly humored.

Aerith shrugged. “Better than being dead.”

“I guess.” Tifa took a deep, steadying breath, and continued, “I did tell Barret attacking while the emperor was away might be a bad idea. With no one to properly lead them—not that Shinra is a proper leader, but I digress—the city will be thrown into chaos, which’ll make it harder for Avalanche to do its job.”

“Good thinking. Plus, Shinra might have something up his sleeve if you decide to attack while he’s gone. Not attacking would catch him even more off guard than doing so,” Cloud nodded. Tifa stared at him, wide eyed, and Cloud suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. “W-What?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Tifa cleared her throat, “Anyway, I’ll tell Barret you guys also think attacking is a bad idea, maybe that’ll be enough to convince him.”

“Thanks,” Aerith smiled. Silence followed. Not the light, comfortable silence that was usually between Cloud and Aerith, but the loaded, tense kind that seemed to be plaguing Cloud and Tifa as of late—Aerith just so happened to be caught in it, too.

Of course, she noticed this before the other two did, and an idea came to her head. “Well, it’s getting pretty late, I should probably head back home,” Aerith said, earning the attention of the other two. Tifa relaxed a bit, understanding. Cloud, on the other hand, looked like he’d seen a ghost. Aerith had a feeling her plan was for sure going to the drain, but it didn’t hurt to try anyway. “C’mon Cait! Tifa, make sure you tell Biggs about the flowers.”

“Will do,” she assured.

“Thanks again! Well then,” she looked down at Cait Sith—who had been napping near the piano up until that point—and picked him up, “I’ll see you two later—”

Before she could even take half a step, Cloud had already taken hold of her wrist. “Wait,” he said, his expression serious and determined, “I’m coming with.”

Heartwarming as his words were, she really wished he could take a hint sometimes. “I can take care of myself, you know. Right, Tifa?”

Tifa, bless her heart, was much better at reading cues than Cloud was. “Yeah, I’ve seen you fire off quite a few mean spells. I’d be scared for anyone that tries something on you,” she said, looking at Cloud with pleading eyes.

They flew over his head. “Yeah, well… I’m still going with you.”

At least they tried. “Oh fine, if you insist,” Aerith teased, turning to Tifa. “See you at the Walk?”

“Yeah, see you then,” Tifa nodded with a smile. Her mouth opened and closed as she looked at Cloud, before turning into a sad smile. “Night.”

Cloud’s usual frown deepened just a bit. “Night.”

The pair—and Cait Sith—stepped outside and walked down the steps of the bar, the brisk and chilly breeze sending a shiver down Aerith’s spine as she flipped her hood back on. She noticed that Cloud, realizing she was cold, made to undo his cape—then promptly realized he didn’t have his cape on, and let out a short, frustrated huff. So cute.

They walked back to the park in silence, mainly because Cloud seemed to be pretty deep in thought, and Aerith didn’t want to interrupt. Her own head was occupied by his lips, and how close they had been to hers just moments ago. One day, surely, he would get the hint. 

Once they arrived at the playground, Aerith set Cait Sith down and Cloud didn’t let go of her hand. Instead he turned to her, standing between her and the entrance to the hatch. His cheeks were tinted like strawberries, and she had to wonder if it was because of the breeze, or something else.

“You… you were trying to give Tifa and I an opportunity to talk, weren’t you?” He said quietly, cringing at himself.

She gave him a reassuring smile. “You caught me.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I blew the chance you gave me…”

“You’ll get another chance to talk to her. There’ll be plenty of opportunities on the Walk, so don’t sweat it!”

He looked somewhat convinced, she supposed. “I just…” he pressed his mouth into a thin line, his face growing even redder, “I just don’t want you to be alone. Especially in Shinra territory…”

Now that was enough to make her heart burst with joy. “Are you… worried about me?” Aerith said as she stepped closer to him, trying so hard to fight back the grin that threatened to spread across her lips.

Cloud didn’t back away, nor did he avert his eyes; he looked so sincere, and his voice was soft enough to melt her, “Of course I am.”

If she had just a little less self-restraint, she might’ve kissed his lips right then and there. That said, her level of restraint was still very little, so she stood on her tippy toes and kissed his cheek instead. “Sorry for the trouble,” she whispered. “But I’ll be okay, trust me.”

Before she could move away, Cloud put a gentle hand on her arm, encouraging her to stay near him. Her heart was beating so fast. “Will you be okay getting back?” He asked.

“And if I said I wasn’t?” She breathed. 

“I’ll go with you.”

“But then you’d have to come all the way back.” 

The thought hadn’t even occurred to Cloud, given by the way he froze before giving a curt shrug. “‘S fine.”

Aerith giggled, and, unable to help herself, gave him another kiss. “Just like I’ll be.”

Something in Cloud’s eyes shifted, and suddenly it was like they were back in the bar, just the two of them. The air didn’t feel as cold anymore; the degrees rose with each centimeter he drew closer. Whether that was the air’s temperature or her own body’s, she couldn’t tell, nor did it matter much because he was so close. Her heart was beating in her ears and her legs felt weak under his passionate and tender gaze, but it didn’t make her want to run away. No, she wanted to look even deeper inside those blue eyes of his and see the warmth that lay within. 

He kissed the back of her hand.

Long, affectionate; his lashes fluttered close, as if all he wanted to savor at that moment was the feeling of her knuckles against his lips. And it made the butterflies in her stomach soar. 

When he did move away, she could still see the hunger in his eyes—he wanted more, and so did she, but he was holding back. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his voice low and husky.

She wondered how red her face was. “Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

***

The canopy was all but ripped open, forcing the blinding sunlight to fall directly into her eyelids. Aerith groaned and raised her arm up in an attempt to shield herself from the light; however, a seize of her wrist and a strong pull forced her up and awake before her mind could fully register anything. Terrified, she opened her eyes and met his. 

“Time for your examination, Your Highness,” Hojo said, ready to inject a syringe of green liquid into the arm he was holding. Noticing her heavy breathing, he smirked and said, “Do try to relax.”

Aerith knew if she tried anything that the medical team surrounding every inch of her bed would restrain her. She stayed still. “I don’t recall giving you permission to enter my room,” she said with the calmest voice she could muster at the moment. She looked him in the eyes. She looked at his disgusting, wretched eyes because if she looked at her arm she’d throw up.

“You and I both know I don’t need such a thing,” Hojo chuckled cooly. “Beginning the injection.”

And of course he was deliberately slow about it. Of course he wanted to see her suffer—or as he called it, her “reaction.” 

But Aerith wasn’t going to give it to him, not even as the immense needle pierced her skin, not even as her blood burned as he pushed the liquid through, not even as the voices of the planet got louder and almost clear enough to speak—she held his gaze, unflinching.

Hojo was just as slow to bandage her arm once he was done, letting blood drip down her arm. It was the only warmth she felt in that desolate room. “Well?” Hojo hummed.

“Cold symptoms,” she answered like always. She knew Hojo wasn’t buying that but she didn’t care. If she could make his life a little harder, she would. 

“I see.” He put the syringe away in a case held by his assistant. “We will only be doing one injection today. After all, we wouldn’t want much scarring to show on your arms on the day of the Walk—and speaking of which, it is only two days away. Are you excited?”

She swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “As excited as one can be.”

“Hmm.” Hojo and his team began to shuffle out of the room, but before he left, he said, “Oh, that’s right. Today is the anniversary of your parents’ deaths, yes? You have my sincerest condolences.”

She bit her tongue.

“My offer to see what remains of your mother still stands, would you like to?”

There was blood in her mouth.

“Hmph, I figured. Well, your knight should be here any minute now. Feel free to cry on his shoulder.” 

He slammed the door behind him. Then the main door.

Aerith ran to her bathroom and threw up in the sink. 

She hated him. She hated him so much. Every part of her wanted to tear him apart, ruin his life as he had ruined hers. She cursed him to disappear, cursed him to hell, cursed him to burn for all eternity. She wished for nothing but the worst for him, for him to get every horrible thing he deserves. She wished he would di—

She threw up again.

What was wrong with her? Such thoughts were foreign to her, horrifying. No matter how much she hated Hojo, she shouldn’t think like that. She shouldn’t. But she couldn’t help it.

Her feet dragged themselves back to her bed, flopping onto soft sheets along with the rest of her body. Cait Sith hopped on and licked her tears away, and she mindlessly scratched behind his ears.

There was a knock at the main door.

“Princess? It’s me, Cloud.”

She sat up, feeling the heaviness in her chest lift a little. “Coming!” She said as cheerfully as she could.

When she went to open the bedroom door, her eyes met his. 

“Princess!” Cloud said, concern washing over his features as he looked her over. There was something he wanted to say, she knew that, but for her sake he waited a bit. “Sorry, I thought you said ‘come in.’”

Aerith smiled, but to Cloud it must’ve been obvious that it wasn’t entirely real. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.” She probably shouldn’t have, but she wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. “Good morning, Cloud.”

He held her back. Soft and secure. “Good morning, my lady.”

That made her genuinely giggle. It was so simple, but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t like it when he referred to her as that. Maybe he’d figured that out, too. She moved a bit closer to him. 

I can’t cry. “Maybe you were right last night.”

“About what?” Cloud asked in a non-condescending way.

Don’t cry. “About coming with me back home. We could’ve had a sleepover.”

“We could have one today.”

Don’t. “...You know we can’t.”

“Doesn’t hurt to try.”

She chuckled. Never thought she’d see Cloud being the optimist in their relationship. A welcome change, if she must say so herself.

“...Hojo?” He asked carefully, rubbing his thumb along her back.

She squeezed him a little tighter. “Yeah. I… I really hate him, you know. He’s made my life so hellish.” She didn’t know why she was saying this. “The things I think I’d do to him…” No, she did know. “They scare me.”

It’s because she was with Cloud.

“Let those thoughts be as dark as you want them to be,” he murmured into her hair, the vibrations of his voice soothing her, “You’re not.”

She hated to prove Hojo right. She really did. But how could she not cry when she was with Cloud ? So kind and compassionate, so comforting in his own way. His words were the sweet honey to ease the sour ache in her throat, his touch the blanket to keep her warm on a cold and rainy day. 

A sob escaped her lips before she could stop it. “I… I know they’re not gone, not really,” she continued to ramble, “But I miss them. I miss them so much.”

He ran a hand through her hair.

“I miss my family. My mom and dad.”

It’d been so long since she allowed herself to grieve like this. Hojo usually took up the entire day to run his experiments. Maybe it’d be okay for her to cry her eyes out, just this once. And it made her happy, really happy, when Cloud picked her up and sat her on his lap on the couch, and just let her.

***

The sun was barely above the horizon, the clouds hung low and the morning dew still fresh. There were many servants around the castle in spite of the hour, working in organized lines like ants as they made the final preparations for the day. A line of three descended from the tower just as Cloud arrived and, just like the others, glared but paid no mind to a termite. 

Cloud ascended the tower without his usual rush to get to the top. The more he could disrupt the day, the better. He still went fast, of course, because above all else he wanted to see the resident of the tower. 

He knocked on the door. “Come in,” came the sweet voice from within. 

Radiant white light filled his vision, and even with her back facing him, she was the brightest thing there. The white dress he had seen in her closet fit her perfectly; light, airy, and comfortable to move in. Gold bracers covered her forearms and wrists, along with a neckpiece padded with what seemed like satin. Her hair was braided down her back, decorated with a circlet of yellow lilies around the sides and back of her head and gold beads and an emerald gemstone on her forehead; and of course her usual scarlet and gold ribbon tied it off at the ends. 

Seeing her from a distance, he could almost convince himself what lied before him was a mirage. A vision, perhaps, of the ethereal goddess of the earth, blessing him with blooming feelings and a growing mind. Her eyes met his, full of mirth and compassion—as if she hadn’t chosen him to be the recipient of her visions based on pure whim. She chose him because he was special to her.

“Cloud!” Her voice was a song, a sweet melody that awoke every part of him. Even the fluffy feline in her arms meowed with glee at the sound. “Good morning!”

He joined her by the window, standing closer than was necessary. “Morning,” he said, smiling. “You ready?”

Aerith took a deep breath and nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

“Just remember…”

“I know.” She readjusted so she could hold Cait Sith with one hand, then held Cloud’s with the other. She leaned up to kiss his cheek, then rested her head on his shoulder, “We have each other.

“That reminds me,” she moved away, much to his disappointment. She didn’t go far, only to the tea table to grab what looked like a long, thin, metal cylinder wrapped in black leather, with two thicker and shorter ones on the ends with materia slotted on them. She held it up to him, “I want you to give this to Tifa when you get the chance.”

Cloud held it in his hands—not too heavy—and gave it a spin, “A stick?” Just as he said that, the thicker cylinders suddenly expanded until it was nearly as tall as him. “Woah!”

Aerith giggled and took it back. “A staff, actually.” She flicked it downwards, and the longer limbs retracted, “I do like calling it my stick, though. Figured taking something to defend myself with wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“I thought you could use magic without materia?” Cloud asked, stashing the staff behind his sword.

“Yeah, but it’s kinda annoying. Why cast the spell yourself when you can just have the materia do it instead, y’know?”

“Not sure that’s how materia work,” Cloud teased.

“You get what I mean!” She stuck her tongue out at him, making him chuckle. “One more thing.” 

She fetched an orb from her table— the orb that matched the color of her dress, the same orb that she wore in her bun every day, the orb that meant so much to her. “I want you to hold on to this.”

He looked at the white materia in her hands, something akin to unease settling in his stomach. “Princess…”

“I can’t carry it with me in this hairstyle, and this dress has no pockets, so I want you to take care of it for me,” Aerith said, an assuring smile on her lips.

For her to give him such a precious item was a showing of immense trust, he knew that. Even if part of him was hesitant to make her part ways with the orb, he wasn’t going to let her down. 

Cloud put his hand over hers, giving it a light squeeze. “I’ll keep it safe,” he vowed.

“Thank you,” Aerith said, her smile widening.

The grandfather clock chimed in the other room, and Cloud put the materia in his pocket. “Guess that means it’s time.”

“Hm,” Aerith nodded. She put Cait Sith down, who meowed very loudly in protest. “I’m sorry we have to leave you behind, Cait,” Aerith said tenderly, scratching the cat beneath its chin, “But don’t worry, we’ll be back sooner than you think! In the meantime, the maids will take good care of you, I promise.”

Cait Sith let out a short meow that sounded suspiciously like a huff, then waddled away back to Aerith’s bedroom. Aerith clicked her tongue and put her hands on her hips, “What a sassy kitty.”

“Must’ve gotten it from someone,” Cloud joked, brushing his fingers against her hand.

Aerith snapped to look at him, her mouth wide open with an overdramatic gasp. “And what exactly are you trying to imply, mister?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“No, you’re right. He got it all from you!” 

“If that’s what you think.”

“Oh shush, you!” She giggled, the quiet tension in her shoulders fading. She took one more deep breath, “Well. Time to go!”

Before she could step away, Cloud grabbed her hand. “Princess.”

She turned to look at him. “Yes?”

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his cheeks redden in color. “H…Happy birthday.”

Aerith’s eyes went wide before her expression softened into a sweet, delicate smile. “Thank you, Cloud.”

They walked down the tower, hand in hand, and only separated once they reached the bottom. For the first time the ants stopped to hail their queen; they lined the castle’s hallways, their heads bowed down in faux respect. Aerith remained headstrong, her chin held high with no signs of the fear or anxiety Hojo and the emperor wanted to see. Cloud walked behind her, a silent pillar if she did need a break.

The party outside was already prepared to begin. Emperor Shinra and Prince Rufus were mounted on highly decorated chocobos; they glared down at her with their cold blue eyes, offering only a brusque greeting. Satisfaction was still evident in the emperor’s voice, the corners of his mouth threatening to pull into a smirk as he looked down upon the princess.

Aerith smiled in return.

She and Cloud walked to the front of the line. Tifa was already there, and after a fabricated greeting, Cloud subtly passed Aerith’s staff to her. She didn’t seem surprised in the slightest and accepted it swiftly and orderly, as if she had practiced the movements to hide it in one of her satchels before today. They didn’t speak.

Aerith stood at the very middle, with her escorts forming a wide circle in front of her. Cloud was to her direct right, Tifa to her left. Aerith stared at the vast road ahead, at the wide open world she was about to see.

She clasped her hands together, closed her eyes, and lowered her head. O planet and its faithful stewards…

From behind her, the emperor's voice declared: “Let the Walk of The Ancients commence!”

Notes:

this marks the end of the Midgar portion of the story! I guess you could call it the end of part 1, but we still have a little more before we reach the actual halfway point of the story! I hope you guys are excited ^-^