A/N: Welcome, everyone, to my second fanfic. This was another piece of mine that I had started a long time ago and lost interest in. I'm picking it back up, because my inspiration has returned. Yay! It involves Cloud and Tifa; I've just reworked it to suit my liking. Please, offer me your reviews. I welcome flames! If you find something you don't like, please do not hesitate to tell me! Also, I'm looking for a Beta, so if you're interested then let me know. I hope all of you readers enjoy what I've got for you!
[Preface]
"Are you sure she's the one?"
"Yes. She is the only one who can save me."
"And it's the right decision, for sure?"
"It's the only decision, Chamberlain. I'm not considering the other option."
"But, Cl-"
"Don't say anything else, Chamberlain. She's the one. I want her here."
"Yes, sire."
"Find out all you can about her. What she likes, what she dislikes, everything there is to know. Don't overlook a single thing."
"Of course, sire."
"One more thing. If you mess this up, Chamberlain, I'm going to throw you through the trapdoor."
"Everything will be as you wish, sir."
There was a strange man watching me. I didn't like the way he looked at me. An expression of curiosity dominated his features. I suppose on any other day he would've looked friendly and cheerful, but today was not that day. He was dressed oddly, too. Instead of the usual breeches and simple white long-sleeved powder shirt many of the men wore in the village, he was dressed in fine black breeches with a matching black tunic over a red powder shirt. He was portly, his thinning hair poorly combed and his face pocked marked with the scars of unclean skin.
I took my stance before the targets, readying my throwing arm.
"She's never going to hit the target; look how far away she is!"
"She hit it five other times, Litza; of course she'll hit it again." From the corner of my eye I recognized Merie's determined stance. Her arms were crossed as she spoke to Litza. Litza was forever my competitor. I blocked everything out except for the feel of the wind, the sound of the birds. I drew my arm back and let the knife fly, smiling with satisfaction when the blade sunk deep into the center of the sixth target. Cheers erupted from the sidelines. A grin exploded across the strange man's face and he wrote something down in a pad of paper. Merie hopped the fence and trotted to my side, patting my back.
"Way to go, Tifa! You're gonna make a record!" Merie congratulated me warmly. I shook my head and moved toward the targets. Her constant words of praise were beginning to belittle my accomplishment.
"It was nothing, really." I pulled all six of the knives out from each target's center, gathering them in one hand. Merie watched my work.
"There's no way I could hit the center of the targets six times! You're the best, and you know it," she continued. I rolled my eyes and headed toward the shed where all the practice weapons were kept.
"Merie, do you know that man?" I gestured vaguely in his direction. He was still scrutinizing me openly. I tried not to meet his gaze.
Merie turned to look, searching in that direction for the man I had pointed out.
"Nope. He's staying at the inn, though, I know that," she replied. I placed the knives in the shed and locked it, figuring I was the last one to need use of anything inside.
"So he's not from around here?" I asked. Merie shrugged, following me toward the village. The practice field was a little ways outside of the main center of the village.
"I guess not," she replied. "Why so curious?"
"He's been staring at me for two days now," I explained uncomfortably.
A laugh exploded from her chest.
"He likes you, Tifa!" Merie nudged my arm playfully, and I shook my head.
"No, I don't think that's it," I said. "He's been writing things down about me since he got here. He's odd."
Merie's blonde eyebrow rose.
"Really? That's strange," she agreed. "You better watch yourself; Tifa. Don't let him hurt you!" Merie exclaimed. I couldn't help but laugh.
"You really think someone like that could do anything to me?" I pointed. The portly man was making his way back to the inn slowly, almost waddling.
Merie laughed aloud and tossed her blonde hair over one shoulder.
"I guess you're right," she said. "Besides, you're way too strong for him to even lay a finger on you!" She was right about that. I was the strongest girl in the village and evenly matched by most of the men. "I don't know how you fit so much strength in that little body of yours," Merie joked. Her joke was the truth, though. Standing tall, I barely cleared five foot five. I smiled.
"It's because I practice." I prodded Merie's arm. I had met Merie a couple of years ago, when her family had arrived new to the village. She was supposed to be a fighter, like I was, but not as disciplined. Two weeks after she arrived, I caught her kissing one of the boys from the village behind the weapon shed. So much for practicing. She had switched from fighting to dress making, and I couldn't deny the talent she had. Merie dressed finely, in clothes she made herself. She was the one who had made the leather outfit I wore to practice in. Leather pants, a leather sleeveless shirt and small booties to wear on my feet so I wasn't hunkered down with heavy boots.
Merie rolled her eyes and said nothing. We went our separate ways after crossing over the bridge into the village. She said something about needing to finish a dress she was working on and darted into the back of Madame Hautzig's shop. I ambled through the cobblestone streets slowly, taking in the sights around me. Grubby children chased stray dogs along the dusty side streets, people entered and exited shops and the lowing of oxen could be distinctly heard.
I neared the village square. My town was cheerful and clean; one of the best in the kingdom. The church graced the center of the green, standing tall and imposing. The priest stood atop the stairs, surveying everyone's actions as though he were in charge. The inn, called The Travelers Way, was filled with many visitors passing through to get to Capitol city. I figured the strange, uncomfortable man was among the few visiting for different reasons. I risked a quick look toward the inn and was glad to find he wasn't outside, but that didn't mean he wasn't watching.
My home was on the other side of the square, nestled in among others. It was just my mother and I living there now. My brother had been enlisted in the SOLDIER some years ago and I had no other siblings. My mother wasn't home, of course. She was out tending the fields; the job she'd taken over after my father died. I went inside and cleaned myself up; removing my hair from the tight braid I'd had it in and shaking it out. The black lengths fell to the small of my back, smooth and silky. I changed out of the leather outfit I practiced in and into black breeches, a small white shirt and black suspenders. I was glad it wasn't necessary for girls to wear dresses constantly anymore. Merie opted to dress femininely, while I couldn't care less. I mean, I wasn't looking to impress anyone. I could barely function in front of a boy, let alone talk to one.
I kept the red ribbon tied around my upper left arm. It was just a tribute of sorts I wore in honor of my father, who had been killed a few years after I was born. I didn't remember much of him, but I knew he was a noble man. I squinted into the mirror.
I took pride in my reflection. I thought myself beautiful, and truly, I was. My skin was clear and creamy, striking with my raven black hair. I had almond shaped dark eyes and a lithe frame packed with nothing but muscle and strength. My stomach was flat and my arms were toned, something that was rare among the girls in my village.
"Tifa?" I turned to find my mother entering the house, her work dress streaked with soil. I smiled in greeting. "We're having someone over for supper tonight, so don't forget," she explained to me, heading into her room to change out of her dirty clothes. A cold touch of anxiety gripped my spine and I had the feeling I knew who our guest was going to be.
Evening came about and brought a knock about our door. I busied myself stoking the fire so I wouldn't have to see the guest sooner than I had to.
"Ah, good to see you again, Mrs. Lockhart," a man's voice said warmly. I concentrated on the crackling wood instead of the man at the door.
"Please, come inside."
"Why, thank you!" The man's feet clunked noisily over the threshold as he stepped inside. I knew my mother would be taking his coat and shutting the door behind him. All too soon I could feel his eyes glance over at me.
"Tifa, for heaven's sake, come greet our guest while I serve up dinner!" she scolded. She had been preparing the thick, rich stew that I loved dearly. I straightened and turned around. Sure enough, that same strange man from before was standing next to the closed front door, watching me expectantly. It was a good thing I'd changed – I didn't want him seeing my bare stomach.
"Tifa, is it?" He took a few steps in my direction, holding out his hand. "My name is Chamberlain," he added, shaking my hand.
"Nice to meet you," I mumbled. It wasn't nice to meet him at all. Chamberlain grinned as though he could hear my thoughts.
"Sit, sit! Supper is ready!" my mother chirped. She loved having company over. It gave her an excuse to cook more than soup and bread. Chamberlain sat in the seat I presented to him. My mother would be horrified if I failed to show the excellent manners she spent three years drilling into me. I took the seat farthest from him, flexing my arms. It was habit, something my mother found ugly. She wasn't against my constant practicing and fighting, but I was aware of her disappointment. She already had a son for fighting.
There was no doubt she had hoped for a more girly daughter, someone who excelled in dress making or perhaps baking. I was none of those things. Chamberlain watched my mother bustle around our small kitchen, gathering serving bowls and spoons from the drawer. She placed out the dishes before lugging the heavy pot of stew over to the table.
The aroma of cooked vegetables and savory meat was mouthwatering. Chamberlain's critical eyes glued themselves to the pot. I'm sure he was intrigued with the contents of the pot. My mother brought a loaf of soft bread, a bottle of wine and three glasses to the table. I poured Chamberlain a glass of wine while my mother cut him a slice of bread and filled his bowl with steaming stew. She served us last, making sure he had a full bowl. Chamberlain needed no extra encouragement before he dug in.
After we had been eating in partial silence, my mother spoke.
"So, Chamberlain, I understand there was something you wished to speak with both of us about?" she asked conversationally.
Chamberlain looked up, startled.
"Oh, yes! There is, as a matter of fact." Chamberlain set his spoon down and felt inside his tunic, searching for something. He pulled out a folded piece of paper, stamped with some sort of burgundy wax seal and slid it across the table towards my mother.
"There. That should clear everything up," he said and resumed eating. His previous vigor was gone; he watched my mother's face carefully as he ate. The food had barely touched my lips. I watched as my mother slid her finger under the seal and broke it, opening the folded paper to read. Her eyes danced across the page as she read, eyebrows knitting together as she continued. I sensed something was wrong. She gasped once and kept reading. By then, the suspense was killing me. It took everything I had not to snatch the letter from her hands and read it myself, but I didn't have to. She set the letter down and fixed her watery eyes on me.
"He wants… her?" my mother's voice shook. My head snapped in Chamberlain's direction. He nodded once, almost solemnly.
"Yes."
"And… you're sure there's no other way?" her voice trembled dangerously.
"Unfortunately, no, there is not," Chamberlain replied. I decided I had been quiet long enough.
"What are you talking about?" I cried, desperately searching the faces of the two around me. My mother looked on the verge of tears and Chamberlain looked concerned.
"Tifa, I… I don't know how to say this but… you've got to go with Chamberlain, honey," she sniffed. Her tears were threatening to spill over.
Questions exploded in my head.
"What do you mean? Go with him where?" I asked.
My mother bowed her head, clearly unable to form a coherent sentence. I turned to Chamberlain with a glare in my eye. He shrank back but spoke anyway.
"You have to come with me. My master needs you." Chamberlain's food lay forgotten. I snatched the letter and raked my eyes over it quickly. A hollow feeling took over. He was right. I had to leave with him or my mother would suffer.
"Your master would have my mother killed if I don't leave with you?" I asked in disbelief.
Chamberlain looked guilty.
"I'm sorry, I truly am. There's no other way around it, Tifa."
"Don't say my name," I growled.
Chamberlain shrugged.
"You have to go with him, Tifa. Go to his master and make him happy. I'm begging you; not for my sake, but for yours."
My eyebrows shot into my hairline.
"Go with him?" I echoed. "You don't know what you're saying!"
"Master Cloud really is a good man," Chamberlain offered. "Take away his mood swings, his unpredictability and his temper and you've got a great man!" He guffawed. I didn't find him the least bit funny. I stared him down. Many different emotions were raging through me. Part of me was curious, the other part furious that this man would have the gall to ask me to accompany him to his master was beyond me. I had no idea where Chamberlain was from, nor did I have any indication of what his master was like. Chamberlain's master could be a deformed freak with a terrible liking for young girls and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it.
"Unpredictable temper? It was my understanding that Cloud was docile!" she crowed.
Realization dawned on me.
"Wait… you knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?" Shock colored my voice. My mother took on a guilty expression and refused to meet my eye.
"It's true I had previous knowledge, yes. I didn't want to tell you until I thought you were ready."
"How long have you known? So there's no way I can stay here? I have to go be with his master, now?" Anger filled my voice. I couldn't believe she'd kept something like this from me! We were supposed to be closer now that it was just the two of us!
"It hasn't been very long; maybe six months?" I didn't answer; instead, I put my head in my hands. Six whole months? "I wish there were another way. But I can't help you. I've raised a capable, strong, beautiful daughter that I know Chamberlain's master will find favor in. You can do this, Tifa, of that I have no doubt." I sighed and looked to Chamberlain.
"Why am I coming with you?" I asked. I'd accepted my fate rather easily. I was surprised the words came from my mouth so swiftly.
Chamberlain shook his head.
"I'm not allowed to tell. Master Cloud will elaborate in time, but you just have to trust in me and trust the judgment of your mother," he explained.
"So if my mother wasn't sure of the idea, I wouldn't have had to go?" I asked, hopefully. Chamberlain dashed my hope as soon as it bloomed.
"No. It doesn't work that way. Once Master Cloud made his decision, I had to come and fetch you. There's no overruling what he says," Chamberlain replied with a hint of a smile.
I sighed again.
"So when do we leave?" I queried. All hope of avoiding the situation was gone. I had to stay strong and accept the decision that had been made for me. My mother watched my face carefully.
"Tomorrow, I think," Chamberlain answered. He picked up what was left of his slice of bread and mopped the stew inside his bowl, popping it inside his mouth.
This conversation was over.
A/N: Well, hmm. Review and rate! Thanks!