Greetings my minions. I am a new member to fanfiction and this will be my first official story here. It's based on FF7 and set in medieval times. I prefer to keep my author's notes short and to the point so…. Here we go! I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Final Fantasy. I simply enjoy making their characters dance to my own tune.

To the casual observer, the procession journeying through the forest might seem grand. Two hundred cavalry soldiers, armed to the teeth, protectively surrounded the three royal persons. It wasn't often you might find any royalty, much less three, travelling through the quiet forest in the dead of winter. And yet there they were, two princes and one princess, all resplendent on their mighty steeds.

To Tifa, however, this little parade was anything but grand. She was the rightfully born daughter of the King and Queen of Midgar. She was a princess beloved by all her people. She was beautiful, kind, and she dearly loved all children. She especially cared for those without parents. There was a special place in her heart for the orphans, and she was often seen visiting with them outside the palace walls and giving them treats. And yet, beloved or not, here she was being carted off to Nibelhiem to marry their prince. It was a union that was sure to benefit both kingdoms, but one that was also very much against Tifa's wishes.

She eyed the perfect stranger riding a short distance ahead of her on his large black mount. At least he wasn't bad on the eyes. Although from this angle all she could see was his mop of unruly blonde hair sticking out in every direction above his heavy cloak. A soft sigh escaped her lips. This would prove to be a very long, boring ride. Her husband-to-be had barely spoken two words to her since they first met less than a week ago. He was a man of few words apparently.

Tifa shifted restlessly on her dappled grey mare. At least her mother had allowed her to split her skirts for riding instead of being crammed into a stuffy coach for the entire ride. She glanced beside her to her lady in waiting, and best friend, Aerith. The younger woman gave Tifa a reassuring smile. At least, if nothing else, she still had Aerith. Being a princess, Tifa didn't have many true friends that weren't seeking to gain from the crown. But Aerith had been her friend since they were small girls. It was looking like she would be Tifa's only source of companionship on the tedious trip.

With gentle pressure from her knees, Tifa urged her horse over to her long time friend. She leaned close to whisper mischievously, "I can't decide if our two dear princes are two frosty icicles or two major sticks in the mud."

Aerith's bright green eyes sparkled impishly. She bit her lower lip to quell a giggle. Just as she was about to open her mouth with a response, her eyes snapped to the path ahead of them and her smile faded. Tifa's eyes followed hers. The procession had finally stopped and the two men riding ahead of her had turned on their steeds to face the ladies. It was then that Tifa noticed that the sun was sinking below the horizon and a few stars were glimmering in the frosty winter air.

A chill that wasn't entirely from the cold swept through her as her eyes locked with her fiancé's. He had the iciest blue eyes she had ever seen, with a gaze that could pierce to her very soul. There was also a strange light in them. Tifa couldn't decide if it was a touch of madness or a hint of warmth on the cold planes of his face. Finally she broke her eyes away from his gaze.

"There is an inn a short distance up the road. We will stay there for the night. The troops can camp in the surrounding area." He spoke at last. Tifa almost blinked in astonishment. That was more than he had spoken to her before. Ever. But she would be grateful to rest in a warm bed tonight.

Tifa bit back a frustrated cry. She was alone with her future husband, the one and only Prince Cloud, and he still wouldn't speak more than was required. They sat in the private dining room of the inn, reserved to guests of higher rank, at opposite ends of a long table. In her younger years, the princess had dreamed of finding true love with a wonderful man, the kind of love that epic stories were written about. And here she was, facing a future in a cold, arranged marriage.

She had made several attempts to strike up a conversation, to learn something about the cold prince, and was always met with simple, one word answers. She drained the last of her wine. With a soft sigh she broke her perfect posture and slumped forward in her chair with her chin resting in her hand. Her other hand pushed the remains of her meal around with a fork. Somehow she doubted her Prince would care if she had perfect posture and she saw no point in pretending in front of him.

At the sound of a sigh Cloud looked up from his plate. His eyes focused on the young woman in front of him, idly playing with her food. He felt a bit bad for her. He hadn't paid her much more attention than he would his lowliest servant. He knew her attempts to invade his thought and communicate with him were all of amicable nature. Guilt gnawed at his conscience for being so cold to her. It's for her own good, he told himself. Nothing good could come from getting close to him.

A brief thought was spared for his older brother, Sephiroth. Cloud had once admired his big brother and strove to be like him. Sephiroth was a strong, commanding, and impressive presence, and next in line for the crown. And then he had married the devil's own daughter. That woman had turned the brother he had once loved into a cold, calculating man. Sure, Cloud seemed cold on the outside, but at least he still felt some emotions.

Upon arrival to the inn Sephiroth had disappeared. Cloud wasn't sure where to, but he was sure there was women and boozing involved.

The rustling of skirts brought Cloud's attention back to his future bride. He couldn't take the dejected look on her face anymore. His chair scraped back from the table and he pulled it up next to the blazing fire. After pulling up a second chair he cleared his throat. Tifa looked up from her plate. Cloud found himself clearing his throat a second time. There must be something stuck in his throat. Surely it couldn't be that his breath caught at the sight of the light flickering in the woman's deep burgundy eyes, her soft, dark hair gleaming in the dim light, or the way her perfect bosom swelled with each breath. No, surely not.

At last he found his voice. "Will you, er, sit with me, Princess Tifa?" He asked, motioning the two chairs by the fire with his hand. A small hopeful smile sprang to her lips as she rose smoothly to her feet. Cloud couldn't help but admire the way she moved; graceful, yet with an undisguised strength and surety. After she had seated herself and settled her deep red skirts, he slowly sat down beside her.

Silenced stretched out between them. Cloud couldn't remember the last time he was this uncertain of himself. What should he talk about? He wasn't much for small talk. Should he talk about himself? Ask about her? When it came to fighting monsters and other dark critters he was swift and precise. When it came to girls… Well this was a whole different territory. While he was still fumbling around to find words, Tifa at last spoke first.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly.

Cloud blinked in surprise. "What?"

"I'm sorry that you have to marry me. It's obvious that you want nothing to do with me. It's not my choice either. But I will try to make the best of it."

"Tifa…" Again the harsh teeth of guilt sank into the edge of his conscious. "I never meant… I mean, it's not your fault…. I mean…" He trailed off lamely.

A sudden idea popped into his head and his face brightened visibly.

"I want to show you something." From his belt he withdrew a small satchel and dumped its contents into Tifa's lap. Her eyes widened in surprise as smooth sphere's rolled in her lap. Her surprise turned to wonder when she touched one with a fingertip and it glowed a warm red.

"What are these?" She asked in an awed voice.

"They're called materia," He explained. "They're one of Nibelhiem's greatest assets. I'm sure you've heard the stories about magic."

"Magic? Sure. I never believed it existed though."

"It does. You see, the planet it alive, just like us. There is an energy that flows through it, that is made up of every living thing and makes up every living thing. It's the planet's lifestream. Materia is made from the lifestream and the qualities it possesses are incredible. Normally these little balls look like a shiny, black rock. But when someone with the gift to use magic touches one, they glow." He picked up an orb to demonstrate. When his strong fingers touched it, it glowed a soft yellow.

"So, I can learn to use magic?" Tifa asked, unable to keep her curiosity at bay.

Cloud nodded, happy that his bride finally seemed to be in a better mood. "That's right. I can teach you."

Tifa looked up at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. Just as she was about to open her mouth to speak the door crashed open. Silhouetted in the door way was the figure of none other than the future king, Sephiroth. His lips curved up in what was more of a sneer than a smile. As he staggered into the room the scent of alcohol wafted with him. The second he was recognized Cloud's countenance instantly reverted back to its usual iciness. Nothing good could come from Sephiroth when he was intoxicated.

"Well if it isn't my dear brother and his lovely wife to be." He crooned as he slowly walked to stand beside the fire. Long fingers reached out to gently stroke Tifa's thick mane of hair. It took everything she had to not flinch away from his touch. There was something about this man that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. All at once his gentle touch turned into his fingers tangling in her hair and yanking her head back. A soft cry parted her lips. In an instant Cloud was on his feet with the tip of his short dagger pressed to Sephiroth's throat.

"You're drunk, brother. I suggest you go to bed before you do something you'll regret." It was more of a growl than actual words.

Instead of releasing his grip, the older of the two men laughed. "Come now, Cloud. We're brothers. Brothers share everything. Including their women." His leering gaze traveled up and down Tifa's rigid form before returning to Cloud. "I'll bet she's still a virgin. You wouldn't want the hassle of training her to properly please a man anyways."

Before either man registered what was happening, Tifa sprang to her feet and swung her fist. It landed squarely on Sephiroth's jaw. He staggered back a step. Anger burned in the young woman's eyes. "How dare you…?" She started to sputter before Sephiroth's howling laughter cut her off.

"My, my…." He commented. "Looks like you've got yourself a little fighter here Cloud." His mocking smile turned into a cruel sneer. "We'll just have to cure her of that."

In the blink of an eye he had shoved Tifa up again the wall and was ripping away at her bodice. She swung her fists and kicked but it was useless. He was simply too strong. A torn sob escaped her lips. So this is what her new life was going to be like; a living hell.

A loud crack filled her ears and all at once the hands pawing at her stopped as Sephiroth dropped to the floor. She looked up through tear filled eyes in time to see her rescuer tossing aside what remained of a chair. Relief flooded her as she fell against Cloud's chest. Maybe, despite his chilled demeanor, he really did have a heart.

Cloud was mildly surprised to see his big brother in a crumpled heap at his feet. He was even more surprised when Tifa rushed to him for comfort. He wasn't entirely sure what to do. He never had to comfort a terrified woman before. He felt a pang to find that her shoulders were still shaking. Without thinking he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. Tifa didn't resist as he gently stroked her hair and whispered reassuringly to her.

"It's okay, Tifa. You're safe now. It's okay. I'm here. You do have one hell of a right hook, that's for sure."

. Tifa let out a breathy laugh at this last comment as she pulled away from him. Immediately Cloud's face turned a shade of pink. Sephiroth, in all his drunk fumbling, had actually managed to rip apart most of the laces keeping Tifa in her bodice. The fine material fell away from her bosom, revealing a valley of skin all the way down to her navel. Her plentiful breasts were just barely kept from being revealing. He found himself wondering what her skin would feel like under his fingers.

Before he could be tempted into imitating Sephiroth, he gathered up his cloak from a chair and threw it around her. She seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that what remained of her dress barely kept her from completely revealing her breasts. In one swift movement he swept her up in his arms.

She didn't balk when it became apparent he was going to carry her back to her room. Instead, she let her head rest against his chest and listened to his steady breathing. With a soft, content sigh her eyes drifted shut. He smelled so nice; a manly, woodsy smell. Tifa began to think that just maybe Cloud wasn't so bad after all.

There you have it folks. Chapter one. I know it was a bit on the slow side but an introduction to this story was required. Also, for future reference, I know some characters are holding true to their original personalities. For instance, I can't imagine Sephiroth ever getting drunk. But alas this is an alternate universe. And here I am master!

Comments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.