Chapter 1

A Final Fantasy 7 Fanfic

Possible Mpreg

Summary: Rejected by his mother for being a man and betrothed against his will, Cloud hates his life. His only light is Zack, his fiance's friend. When his fiance learns his secret, Cloud is given a choice. Marry Sephiroth, or return home with his mother.

The first thing that saluted Cloud's eyes were the lanterns. Tall, decorative lights that shone through the cold night, bringing solace to even the lost of souls. The light soothed him like the sun warmed his skin, giving him a form of comfort he had been missing for far too long. He leaned back against the carriage bench, taking in a deep breath of the coal tainted air of Midgar, feeling closer to home then he had ever felt since he had moved to the country. He turned his head, looking out the small curtained window that shielded him from the world.

His eyes became droopy as he breathed in the sites of the oncoming city. Astonishment set in as he watched the urchins and common folk pass by, the small businesses and mules as they pulled along cargo, their heads and eyes downcast, too broken from hard labor and abuse to ever be able to lift them ever again. Cloud withheld a sigh.

That's how he felt, like a broken in mule; never able to speak up, to fight back. His astonishment dissipated into depression as his eyes turned to his silent mother.

"Nobody wants a broken, unwanted piece of common furniture!" His mother had yelled. She had grabbed his hair, uprooting some of the smaller hairs close to his forehead, Cloud screaming in agony at the brutal treatment. His mother had pulled him close to her chest, her other hand lightly grabbing his chin, lifting his chin so tenderly, so lovingly. But her eyes, the hair she held in her hands uncovered all of the lies, all of the truths of who she was.

"You are my sweet little angel, Cloud. My sweet baby girl, aren't you?" That had been many years ago. When she voiced the pain she felt of having a son, when all she really wanted was a daughter.

With love in his heart, he had given her everything she wanted. With trickery and hatred, she took everything he was, leaving only the dressed up doll, the broken mask of what he had once been.

Cloud looked away as the memory dissipated into darkness, only the embers of the fireplace left in its wake.

"Who is the host of the party?" Cloud asked softly in the voice he had learned to use. His eyes, in fear of scorn turned to his mother, his eyes calm, lifeless. His mother opened her blue eyes, smiling to Cloud with a love so unsettling, it was near deadly. Her blonde curls glowed in the moonlight as she straightened in her seat, her eyes darkening as darkness overtook her pale features. Cloud resisted a shiver as a chill found its way beneath the dress he wore.

"His name is Sephiroth, he's the Marquis of Sector 1, a nice young man with untold wealth." His mother gave him a look that frostbit him to his bones.

"You, my darling are of age now. Though your deficiency will cause us to have some setbacks, you must marry. The small fortune we obtained after your father's death is starting to diminish." Cloud felt a pang of hate burn in his chest at the tone she adorned as she said deficiency. Like how he had been born, what he had was a disease. All of his life she had rejected him, brutalized him with the worst of torture, suffocated him with dresses meant for whores, killed him slowly with the love she pretend to have for him.

But now, all he wished for was too sever her head from her shoulders. He looked away.

"You will marry, Cloud," she whispered, her voice sweet venom as she leaned towards him, grasping his chin between her fingers, turning his head towards her. Her eyes spoke of tenderness, but beneath, Cloud knew there was only madness.

"It's only natural, isn't it petal?" Cloud dared not to move a muscle as she leaned closer, pressing her lips to his own in a kiss that bonded mother to daughter in a way that could only be expressed in such a way.

But with Cloud, as he closed his eyes to block out the lips on his own, of who they belonged too, he knew the bond they shared could never be the same for their bond, had been severed, long ago.

When they broke apart and Cloud rested against his seat once again, he looked out the window with sorrowful sentiment, his heart heavy in his chest. He dared not to slant back his eyes to his mother, disgust rolling on his tongue as he licked his lips of the taint she set on them. He wished for so many things at that moment, but he knew, even though she was everything he hated, she was all he had left in the world.

:::+:::

It began to rain shortly after they arrived, the two rushing into the large mansion. Cloud's dress was wet at the soft velvet that flared around his ankles, his mother scolding him at his carelessness. A butler had offered him a spare, his hands clammy and cold as they held his own. Cloud wanted to pull away from the pale and sinister man who seemed to emit death wherever he went, but with hate filled remarks from his mother, he unwillingly followed.

As they traveled up the vacant stairway, Cloud looked to the many pictures of men and women who adorned the walls, his wide blue eyes engulfing all there was to see. The aged paint that had already begun to crumble at the sides, the beginnings of cobwebs were the frame touched the wall. It all fascinated him, those little details that told of stories many others had chosen to ignore. But one picture captured him more than any small detail. He stopped walking, mesmerized as he stared at it with intrigue.

Beauty was the only thing he could have used to describe it. A woman laid on a bed, her body stripped of clothing, the pale skin of her thigh bruised. Her green eyes held fright, her lips chapped, the excess skin that had already begun to peel so distinguishable it seemed real. Her brown hair fell in tendrils over her breasts, her bangs framing her face, some sticking to her flushed cheek. Her hands clenched the blankets as it seemed a scream built in her throat.

"A virgin," a deep voice bellowed near him, though barely echoing off the walls. Cloud jumped, holding his hand over his heart as he turned to see who had spoken. The butler was all that was there, his dull gray eyes watching him with silently. Cloud felt a shiver roll down his spine.

"Excuse me?" he whispered, almost afraid of his own voice echoing off the walls.

"The woman you see in the picture, she is a virgin," he replied, walking down the steps till he stood a step or two before Cloud. Cloud looked back to the picture, releasing the breath he had been holding as the spell it had on him was broken.

"Why does she look so afraid?" Cloud whispered, removing his hand from his still lightly thrumming heart.

"The threat of the loss of her innocence," the butler replied, Cloud's eyebrows knitting together.

"I don't understand why should she be afraid? I thought the loss of innocence is what women are prepared for, seeing as how in marriage it is inevitable," Cloud replied, looking away from the painting to the butler.

"Am I wrong?" The butler merely smirked.

"One can only enjoy the loss of innocence if they are ready. The reason she is afraid, is because the loss of her innocence was something she was never ready for."

The butler turned away, continuing his course upon the never ending steps. Cloud looked to the picture one more time, a shiver running up his spine.

"Miss?" The butler called, snapping Cloud out his daze.

"Coming!" Cloud replied, lifting his dress as he ventured up the stairs. The steps seemed destined to never end like so many of Cloud's dreams, a never-ending path through a hole that had no bottom.

"Excuse me but, why would the Marquis have dresses in his home, when he is a male and lives alone?" Cloud asked, the butler never turning or stopping as he replied.

"They are his mothers. She comes once in a while for a short visit. She brings most of her wardrobe here for lately, she has been coming more frequently, Miss." Cloud gasped, stopping in his advancement up the stairs.

"I-I can't wear her clothing! She has not giving me permission and to put something of such luxury onto my body would disgrace it!" Cloud replied, the butler stopping for only a second as he looked over his shoulder. He looked to the mud that was starting to become visible as it dried on the blue gown, trailing his eyes back to Cloud's own.

"Do you wish to go back down to the party wearing a ruined dress My Lady?" He asked. Cloud's cheeks burned.

"Of course I don't but, if you can get permission from the Marquis, or his mother if she is attending, I would feel more safe doing so," Cloud countered. The butler withheld a sigh.

"If you wish Madam, but I would have to leave you in one of the rooms upstairs," he replied. Cloud gave him a semi-grateful look, nodding in agreement.

They walked for no more than a few steps before they stepped into a hall that seemed to stretch forever, the walls lined with doors. The butler walked to the first door and opened it, motioning for Cloud to walk inside. Cloud was slightly cautious, but once his eyes fell upon the room's contents, like the portrait, it seemed to take away his breath. The walls were covered in red, gold vines stretching from the floor to the ceiling, twirling and twisting with elegance. The bed was in the far corner, the sheets a red velvet that seemed to call Cloud's name. A writing table was to the far left against the wall, magenta colored roses painted onto the light brown wood.

"I shall be back shortly with the Marquis," the butler said, closing the door. With a frost bitten wind, Cloud's astonishment was whisked away, and a bone chilling fear replaced it. The vines on the walls became hands that reached for him as the light from the lit fireplace danced off the walls, the objects in the room stretching into long shadows that reached for him, begged for him to come closer. Cloud's heart beat sped up, his hands beginning to shake at his sides.

'Don't look,' he chanted in his mind as he walked to the plain chair that was set by the fireplace, his eyes locked on it as he tried not to look to the shadows, to the pictures that watched him, begged for him to believe and fear their presence. He took in a deep breath as he reached the powerful light of the fire, all of his fears dissipating as the shadows seemed to dissolve around him. He sat down, his hands folded in his lap as he watched the flames crackle. But, he felt like someone was watching him.

Two white eyes that glowed in the dark was what he imagined, a shadow that reached for him, begged for him to come closer even though it's mouth was stitched shut. He shivered, trying to control his imagination as it wandered into the depths of a hollow hole, that he tried to avoid. Wings as red as blood, claws as black as night as they tore through the air as chains held it back, its eyes wide with insanity as the tip of his claws brushed Cloud's nape…

Cloud jumped, turning in his seat, looking to the shadows behind him. But there was nothing there. Cloud breathed in shakily, his eyes searching and wandering. But there were no white eyes that glowed in the dark, no wings as red as blood, no claws that yearned to tear apart his flesh. He let his breath out in a sigh, his breath visible in the cool room.

"Clooud," a voice whispered into his ear.

He screamed.

The door was pushed open forcefully, the butler entering with wide eyes of worry looking to Cloud who was sprawled across the floor. Cloud's eyes were wide with fear as he stared to the shadows that dissipated as light flooded the room.

"What happened Miss?" He questioned, fast walking to Cloud's side, lightly grasping his hand as the other went around his back to support him as the butler tried to get him to stand.

"I…" Cloud looked to the brightened room one more time, shaking in the butlers arms as the cold air of the room began to warm.

"I just thought I saw something," Cloud muttered, his hand shaking as it held the butlers' in a vice like grip. If the butler felt pain he didn't show it, walking Cloud to the bed and away from the fire he nearly threw himself into.

"What is it you saw?" A deep voice asked. Cloud's head shot up as a shiver of dread slid down his spine.

The Marquis.

He stood tall, his body clad in a suit of white elegance, his long silver hair covering him as an eggshell would a yolk. His eyes, a beautiful jade seemed to emit a faint glow as they trained on Cloud. Cloud had the urge to cower from those eyes that seemed of ice, his heart beating so hard in his chest he thought it would jump out his mouth. Cloud looked away, letting out a small sigh as he tried to calm himself. It had just been his imagination. He was safe, right?

"Nothing," Cloud whispered, looking back to the Marquis, the lifelessness returning to Cloud's eye as he collected himself.

"It was just my imagination, I am sorry for disturbing you." The Marquis raised an eyebrow in question, but did not ask anything else on the subject. Silence stretched as the Marquis stared at Cloud, and Cloud, though still slightly shaken stared back with a stare nearly equal in blankness.

The Marquis broke the silence, his voice resounding off the walls.

"You needed a new dress?" He asked. Cloud nodded, releasing the butler's hand he had forgotten he held. His hand was a bright red, but the butler spoke nothing of it, rising to stand. Cloud grabbed his sleeve, a very unladylike move, but he feared his voice would not have been heard if he had called for him to return.

"Can you please retrieve my mother? I would prefer for her to help me with my clothing," Cloud asked softly, the butler smiling softly before nodding, turning away.

Cloud knew it was rude for him to not reply verbally, but let it pass. The butler left the door ajar, his footsteps echoing softly. Cloud placed his hands in his lap, staring to the Marquis with the ounce of pride he had left. Woman or man, the display he had portrayed was humiliating, and only his sharp wittiness could save him from the predatory gleam in the Marquis's eyes. He knew how certain men could be; thanks to the lessons his mother had put him through so vigorously at his young age.

Cloud's eyes narrowed.

"I am sorry for my earlier display, I had been alone and my imagination was to blame for my fright," Cloud said in a soft, droning voice. The Marquis didn't reply though merely stared. Cloud continued.

"I have wondered though, have you agreed to let me wear those dresses, or are you here to tell me no?" The reaction was almost immediate. The Marquis shifted his feet before speaking.

"I have agreed for no woman should dance in such dirtied garbs," he said, Cloud frowning as he felt as if he was insulted.

"I do not believe garbs is such a good word to describe any dress, unless a man plans on removing it, then it is considered more of a nuisance rather than a possession," Cloud spoke, looking down to his hands for merely a second, sneaking a peak to the ruined ends of his gown. He cringed. The dirt on it did make it seem like garbage from his vantage point, but he was not going to be insulted by the Marquis because he was merely higher in class. He looked back to him, his eyes daring him to prove him wrong.

The Marquis smirked. Witty was what popped into his mind at the remark from the woman before him. He looked her over, newborn interest burning in his eyes. At first he had thought she was merely another one of those stuck up women who gravitated towards him, but the confidence that burned in her eyes, and that slightly misplaced remark had caught his attention. She straightened her back, power and authority wafting from her in waves. A wall he knew, for beneath he could smell her fear as if it were the most enticing perfume. The innocence that encased her though, was of the sweetest aroma, his mouth nearly watering from its essence.

A shiver ran down his back. He wanted to touch her, to feel her flesh beneath his hands, to taste her essence on his tongue, to feel her wetness on his fingers. But just as the thoughts entered his mind, he noticed something distinct, hidden beneath the sweet aromas that tempted him. The sweet scent of pine trees, a woodsy scent that was nearly nonexistent. His eyes widened slightly as his interest was piqued even more.

What an interesting development.

He breathed it in, releasing his breath in a sigh, a chuckle rolling from his lips.

"Many men wish to remove the gown from a woman's body. And I am no exception, especially to such a lady as yourself," Sephiroth purred, delight pumping through his veins as the lightest of blushes crossed her pale cheeks.

"I do not believe that my skin is ever to be played beneath your fingers, Sephiroth," Cloud spoke in a sharp tone, a growl of disgust threatening to roll of his lips.

How dare he, Cloud seethed, straightening his spine as his eyes narrowed. So blunt, so vile, so perfect. A monster was what Cloud had the gall to call him in the recesses of his mind. No man would be so distractingly blunt to a lady unless he knew he would receive. Cloud wanted to slap him, but withheld himself as a lady should.

The Marquis smiled a sinister, devastatingly wicked smile that shook Cloud to his core, a bolt of electricity snapping down his spine. Arousal or fear though, he did not want to know. The Marquis opened his mouth to speak but he was interrupted by the creak of the door opening and a female voice that echoed off the walls. His mother entered, her frown of displeasure immediately replaced with a smile as she saw the Marquis. She curtseyed in his presence, but her eyes turned to Cloud, questioning him.

Cloud looked away.

"I am sorry for any disturbance my daughter has caused, she is infamous for it I'm afraid," his mother said, the Marquis merely smirking.

"She was not a disturbance, though I am glad to have been in her presence. You have raised a fair maiden," Sephiroth soothed, looking to Cloud one more time.

"I must leave now though, the King is awaiting my arrival," he said, the butler that stood in the doorway moving to let him through before exiting himself, closing the door for them to have privacy.

Cloud let out a breath he didn't realize he had held.