Princess Guard
A Final Fantasy VII Fanfiction
By BG-57
Chapter 1
A light breeze blew in from the ocean. Moonlight bleached the sands of the beach a pure white. The rolling surf gently pounded rhythmically against the shore. Further inland the sands stretched, until it became a vast trackless desert. Looming far above the shimmering sands and a ramshackle assemblage of huts was what looked like a golden tree large enough to support the world itself. Gold Saucer started as a tall spire that branched out into several mushroom shaped domes, each of which housed a different theme park. Bright lights flashed and glittered on a roller coaster thrill ride while on a different dome chocobos streaked around a racetrack. A great crowd was packing the tiers of seats as they cheered the jockeys racing towards the finish line.
High above the bleachers in a boxed room sat an intense looking man in a black tuxedo. His dark hair and goatee was matched by his brown eyes that peered intently though a pair of binoculars. He chuckled softly as a jockey wearing a red jacket and straw hat pulled ahead of the pack riding on his jet black chocobo.
"C'mon Teioh," he rasped.
The black chocobo crossed a green laser beam strung through a curved white archway. A few seconds later the runners-up caught up to him. The crowd let out a great roar of excitement mixed with disappointment.
"Congratulations Mister President," said a dark hulking man standing by the door. He wore a deep blue suit that together with his shaven head and tinted sunglasses made him look like a bouncer.
"Don't humor me Rude," said Reeve tapping a hand on the armrest of the plush green sofa. Although he had been President of Shinra Incorporated for more than two years, the title didn't fit him. Maybe it never would.
"Sorry Sir," stated the big man carefully, tactfully avoiding any mention of the empty seat next to the President.
"There's still time before the auction," mused Reeve thoughtfully.
"Are you going to bid on anything?" asked Rude quietly.
"It depends on what Dio's offering," replied Reeve with a chuckle, "The man's a regular pack rat."
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence again.
"Should I find out what's keeping her?" inquired Rude tentatively. Reeve smiled indulgently and waved a hand dismissively.
"Take Pandora with you," he ordered, "Maybe she'll listen then."
Rude nodded and left through the door into a long dim corridor. His footsteps echoed hollowly on the cold concrete floor. Eventually, he reached a door and emerged in a brightly lit room supported by glittering flared pillars. Pretty young girls stood behind a curved exchange counter as a big screen monitor broadcast an instant replay of the latest race. Several young people stood at the counter buying tickets. He brushed past them and passed through a metal door into the brisk night air. The neon light illuminated a steep staircase that led down past eight giant tubes, four on each side that led to other pavilions. Rude chose the one marked 'Event'.
A moving sidewalk carried him to a large open air amphitheater. It was semicircular with stone benches and it was already half filled with people milling about. The stage was dark and the crimson curtain was drawn but he could tell the people were excited about the auction. He saw a young woman anxiously scanning the crowd with her back to him. Rude paused just to admire her. She had a small delicate frame and shoulder length brown hair. Her suit was similar to his and she carried a black metallic staff that was resting against her shoulder.
"Pandora?" he asked softly. She turned and met his gaze with puzzled emerald eyes. They were set in a face which bore a frightening resemblance to a flower girl that he had briefly known in his long career as a member of the Turks. Now Pandora stood before him like the ghost of Aeris Gainsborough, doomed forever to haunt him. He became gradually aware from her crestfallen expression that she understood what he was thinking.
"We're going back to Midgar," he said gruffly, "Orders from the top."
"Mother's not here?" she asked, relieved to avoid the touchy subject. Rude merely jerked his head, indicating her to follow. As they walked down the corridor, Pandora pulled out a small PHS phone and put it to her ear.
"Reno come in," she stated, "Rude's taking me back home."
"Shit!," growled a voice over the crackle of static, "Tell that Prima Donna to get her ass in gear!"
"Reno, show some respect!," snapped a woman's voice on the line, "Don't worry, we've got the crowd covered."
"Thanks Elena," said Pandora cheerfully, "You're a lifesaver."
"Just make it snappy Princess," grumbled Reno.
"Sure thing!" she said as she closed the phone and returned it to her pocket.
By this point they had reached a door that led out onto an open platform. The wind whistled around them as a bleached white helicopter came for a landing. She nodded to Rude stepped inside. After they boarded the helicopter lifted off and made a beeline directly for the ocean. Pandora rested her chin on her folded arms as she peered down into the inky black waters far below. He watched her silently, daring not to break the mood.
"I'm sorry Rude," she said suddenly.
"What for?" he asked with a slight frown. She turned from the window and met his gaze fearfully.
"I'm sorry I can't be more like her," she confessed, "She was always so bright and cheerful." Rude sighed and rubbed his neck.
"Maybe, but she wouldn't have joined the Turks," he stated flatly, "That was one of Tseng's dreams."
"I know," said Pandora with a shy smile, "This was his gift for her."
She hefted the ebon metallic staff which held eight slots etched into the surface, four at either end. Inset into the slots were glowing orbs of materia in a wide array of colors. The staff looked like it had served as a barbell in a previous life.
"He was actually kind of sweet on her," added Rude, who quickly regretted the admission.
"Really?" she inquired, "I wish I could have met him."
"Yeah," replied Rude quietly.
They spent the rest of the trip in silence as they watched the restless ocean far below the helicopter. Eventually they spotted the bright lights of Junon. However, they veered away from it so all they saw from a distance looked like a brilliantly illuminated staircase. A few minutes later the city of Midgar loomed into view. The once mighty city was now but a shell of what it had once been. Although it still resembled a giant wheel with eight spokes, it was mostly plunged into darkness. The eight great furnaces of the mako reactors were now empty lifeless husks and the central tower was still missing the upper floors. Only the last change had been a present from one of the Planet's Weapons. Everything else was due to Shinra's failed attempt to create a floating city of Neo-Midgar. The city had crashed back to the ground, only saved at the last minute by the mercy of the Planet. Now the population had dropped to a fourth of what it had been and even Shinra had moved its headquarters to Junon.
The helicopter flew low over Sector 6 and came to a rest next to a small cottage next to several circular flowerbeds growing on terraces. It was a square grey building with a steep red roof with gables on it. A hexagonal tower stood behind it. As they climbed out they saw two soldiers in blue uniforms lounging on a bench by the front door drinking tea from dainty looking cups. Pandora had to hide her laughter behind a hand. Rude smirked faintly.
"I see Mrs. Gainsborough has been here," he commented idly. That had the desired effect: they immediately jumped to their feet and put their blue helmets on.
"Sorry Sir," said one of the soldiers, "Nothing to report."
"Very good," said Rude thoughtfully.
"Does Mother really need protection?" inquired Pandora faintly, "She doesn't have any enemies."
"It's the President's way of showing concern about her," he explained. At that moment the door swung open revealing a handsome middle aged woman with brown hair tied into a topknot. She wore a simple plain green dress with a white apron.
"You boys can return the saucers when you're done," she instructed the soldiers.
"Yes Ma'am," said the second soldier sheepishly.
Elmyra gasped faintly as she turned and saw Rude and Pandora standing there. She quickly ran over and pulled her into an embrace.
"Hi Mom," said Pandora tentatively. She still felt a little like an interloper in this kindly woman's heart; a clone like her could never really replace the real Aeris. Elmyra smiled up at Rude and wordlessly untied her topknot so hair cascaded down. Rude nervously scratched his neck and wished he hadn't once told her that she looked better that way.
"Mrs. Gainsborough…," he began.
"Save the speech until after tea," she said with growing exasperation. She gestured them to follow her back into the house. The central room was in the shape of a hexagon, with brick floors surrounding a small round table with a white tablecloth draped over it. Rude and Pandora exchanged a worried glance as they took seats at the table. Elmyra walked into a back alcove and rummaged in a cupboard and put several cups on a tray. She turned on the stove and placed a teakettle on it.
"Mrs. Gainsborough," began Rude again, "Shouldn't you be getting ready?"
"Ready for what?" she asked with a smile.
"Remember the invitation that President Reeve sent you?" asked Pandora.
"Yes, but I'm not going," replied Elmyra pensively.
"I thought you always wanted to go to Gold Saucer," said Pandora with a frown.
"Oh I do," she explained as she took the whistling kettle off the burner, "But not as the guest of your beloved President." She poured out the hot water into the cups and brought the tray over to table, then set a teabag into each cup and offered the sugar bowl. Rude shook his head as Pandora took it and scooped three spoonfuls in the cup. As she stirred her tea, Elmyra laughed faintly.
"Such a sweet tooth my dear," she said, "Just like…."
They both looked at her expectantly as she blushed slightly.
"Like your sister," she said in a subdued tone. An awkward silence fell over the table as they sipped their drinks.
The auction was already in full swing when Reeve entered the Event Square. It sure beat pacing around in the hall outside, he thought. He made his way to a roped off section of the stadium, and found someone sitting in one of the reserved seats. She was dressed in a long flowing white cloak and what was visible of her face under the folds of the hood looked unnaturally pale. Reeve gestured for a lanky young man in a dark blue suit to come over. He had flame red hair and poisonous green eyes and his white shirt was open at the collar.
"What's up Boss?" he asked with a smirk.
"Reno, what's the meaning of this?" demanded Reeve angrily.
"I didn't seem like a good idea to tell her no," replied Reno scratching his chin.
"What do you mean?" asked Reeve, taken a little aback. He had never known Reno to be afraid of anything.
"I dunno," he replied looking uneasy, "Just a feeling."
"Fine," said Reeve sullenly, "I'll deal with this." He took the empty seat to the woman's right.
"Do forgive me," she said abruptly in a soft reasonable voice, "There was nowhere else to sit."
He could now see that under the hood she had golden brown hair. Something nagged at the back of his mind but he ignored it for the time being.
"They were reserved for a reason," said Reeve irritably.
"I don't think you're friend is coming," she countered.
"What?" he hissed, "How would you know?" Something was very wrong, but he couldn't quite articulate it.
"Shh," she warned, holding a pale finger to her lips, "The next item is up for bid."
They both turned their attention to the stage, where a huge muscle-bound man stood on the stage dressed only in a speedo. To call the manager of Gold Saucer eccentric would be an understatement. The curtains opened behind him as he described the item for bid in a deep baritone voice.
"Lot #25 is fully functional iron maiden," began Dio, "With 256 internal spikes."
The crowd admired the forbidding dark grey conical cabinet in the form of a woman. Two assistant pulled open the lower doors, revealing the array of spikes.
"This fine item graced the Pain Room of the Ghost Square Hotel for many years," he elaborated, "Shall we start the bidding at 25,000 Gil?"
Immediately a stern looking man close to the stage made a bid; Reeve recognized him as Goda, the leader of Wutai. He tried to avoid thinking about what he was going use it for. A businessman made a second bid, touching off a flurry of bidding. Finally when things calmed down and Dio banged a gavel on the podium.
"Sold for 100,000 Gil to Sir Goda," said Dio, "Our next item is a one of a kind item."
Behind him an aide brought out a small bundle and placed it on a stand. Dio pulled off the velvet cloth with a dramatic flourish.
"Ladies and Gentlemen: the Hand of Glory!" he exclaimed, "An object of legendary powers!"
Reeve gulped and he heard the woman take in a sharp breath. Before them on the stand stood an artificial arm forged out of golden metallic plates ending with vicious looking claws. What shocked Reeve was that until fairly recently it had been attached to an ex-Turk named Vincent Valentine.
"This unique item was manufactured as part of a warped experiment," continued Dio, "I propose to start bidding at 250,000 Gil."
The woman in white raised her hand. Reeve stared at her incredulously.
"Thank you Madam," said Dio noticing another hand, "260,000 Gil Sir?"
"Why would you want that?" asked Reeve.
"Sentimental attachment," she replied with a trace of amusement.
"I bid 500,000 Gil," he growled.
"Thank you Mister President," said Dio with a slight bow, "Any other bids?"
The woman chuckled and shook her head.
"Sold to President Reeve for 500,000 Gil," exclaimed Dio, banging the gavel again.
"Are you planning a trophy room?" inquired the woman impishly. Reeve just grimaced and did his best to ignore her.
"Lot #27 is the final item of the evening," said Dio as the lights dimmed around him, "But its well worth the wait." Behind him the curtains closed and the audience could hear the aides bustling backstage for a few moments. The crowd waited in breathless silence. Finally the curtains parted again, revealing an elongated object under a plush crimson cloth.
"Is everyone ready?" asked Dio. Despite himself, Reeve leaned forward in expectation.
"Please," whispered the woman in white.
"Behold!" bellowed Dio gesturing to the sky. Two aides pulled the cloth away, exposing an exquisitely forged long curved sword resting on two black lacquered blocks. It was longer than a man was tall and looked next to impossible to wield. Dio grinned fiercely as the crowd gasped collectively. He didn't say what it was, nor did he need to.
"My God," gulped Reeve, "That's Masamune!"
"What is that?" asked the woman in confusion.
"Where have you been, under a rock?" demanded Reeve irritably, "It's Sephiroth's sword!"
"Sephiroth?" gasped the woman in white as she put a hand to her forehead, "That belonged to him?"
"Shall we start the bidding at…," began Dio.
"One million Gil!" yelled Reeve feverishly.
"Er, thank you Mr. President," replied Dio, a bit taken aback, "Are there any other…."
"Three million Gil!" countered Goda almost angrily.
"Five million," said the woman coldly. Reeve turned and stared at her.
"Six million," retorted Goda flashing a defiant look at them.
"Ten million," said Reeve smugly.
"Uh…," murmured Dio quietly, "The bidding is currently at ten million Gil." The room fell silent. Goda slumped in his seat and folded his arms across his chest in defeat. Reeve chuckled and stole a glance at the woman next to him.
"One hundred million Gil," she said calmly. A buzz of excited chatter filled the auditorium. Dio stared at her as he hadn't quite heard her. A cold sweat broke across Reeve's face as he numbly rose to his feet.
"Mr. President?" inquired Reno with an uncharacteristic expression of concern. Reeve pushed him aside as he stormed up the aisle to the exit.
"Sold to the lucky lady for one hundred million Gil," said Dio as the gavel came down one more time.
Backstage two workmen wheeled the iron maiden down a long corridor. A woman with blond hair and a dark blue suit supervised.
"Don't drop it boys," she admonished them.
"Don't worry Miss Elena," said the older workman, "We aint dropped nothing yet."
"That's a double negative," she said with a faint sigh, "That means you have dropped things."
"Huh?" asked the younger one.
"Never mind," she said with a dismissive wave. She followed them to a large circular door. Slowly it opened with a smooth pneumatic hiss, revealed a large windowless vault. They wheeled the cart in and moved the iron maiden into the corner. Then they sealed the door shut again. In the darkness something stirred. A young girl dressed entirely in black scurried in the darkness using a red materia orb to faintly illuminate the boxes arrayed around the room. Finally she found a small box on a pedestal that interested her. She pried open the lid and saw a glowing blue materia orb nestled inside.
"Jackpot!" exclaimed Yuffie Kisaragi giddily. She then carefully removed the materia and placed it in a bag on her belt. Now she had to wait until the vault was open again and then make her getaway. After a few minutes the door slowly hissed open and fluorescent lights flickered on again. Yuffie hid behind the iron maiden.
"This is where I keep all of my valuables," explained Dio as he entered.
"Very impressive," said a woman dressed in white robes. Two workmen brought in a small bundle and a long bundle, both wrapped in beige cloth. Dio picked up the long bundle and handed it to her.
"One hundred million is an awful lot," he said quietly, "Are you sure about this Madam?"
"It's a bargain," she replied holding Masamune close. The iron maiden's doors opened with a noisy creak, making Yuffie gasp. A figure stepped out, dressed in black with a long crimson cape that hid the lower half of his face. He wore gold metal boots and had long raven hair. His right sleeve flapped emptily but his left hand held a silver pistol. Dio blinked in amazement.
"What the-," he stammered.
"Put down the sword Lucrecia," said the man with the gun. She turned to him and smiled indulgently.
"Hello Vincent."