Disclaimer: Of course I own nothing but the plot here. All FF VII characters belong to Square. None of this is for profit.
Summary: When war breaks out between Shinra and Wutai, Sephiroth loses the one thing he has always treasured. But now that the victory's won, he intends to take back what is rightfully his. AU, SephTi
Genre: Romance/Drama
Author's Notes: It's been seven years! I should have produced a novel by now. Better late than never, I suppose. Here's for all us SephTi fans.
Spoils of War
I. In the Beginning
There were no stars above, unless one counted the thousands of lights that blazed from the buildings of Midgar. The city had overwhelmed Mother Nature, who had obviously lost the war and privately, Tifa thought it was a fitting sign of everything this city was. It was like an obscene metal blight on the face of Gaia, sucking up the planet's life force to sustain the Shinra Empire's greed.
And now Emperor Godo had to play a careful dance with this rising superpower. It was only because she was so close to the family that Tifa was privy to their secrets and fears. Princess Yuffie, or Yuffie to those who were close enough so she could order them to drop the title, had hot-headedly declared President Shinra and his son Rufus could shove their Mako Reactors where the sun didn't shine but crude bravado could not cover up the fact that she was worried. The fact that they were here attending the birthday party of Rufus Shinra in dresses was evidence enough. Yuffie, who had probably been born in shorts and boots, had consented to wear a dress, a long one at that, and lady-like shoes. No heels though, since being skilled in the ninja arts apparently did not grant one the magical ability to float on three-inch stilettoes.
Tifa herself had no particular liking for formal gowns, although she did like the soft combination of silk and chiffon dress she had selected. It was a pale apple green, perhaps a subconscious expression of her yearning for the blue waters and green lands of Wutai. A translucent shawl of pale green with silver threads covered her bare shoulders but modesty was not on Tifa's mind. The shawl would be a useful weapon, just in case she needed to defend Yuffie. Godo had not sent Yuffie's personal bodyguard because he thought a tour of Midgar would be educational; he feared for his daughter's safety, specifically that the President would take her hostage. Still, she had to go; snubbing an invitation might be taken as an excuse, however puny, for tensions to escalate and right now, the last thing Emperor Godo wanted was a war.
Sharp brown eyes studied the massive ballroom they were now entering. Behind them, Ambassadors Chehkov and Staniv were engaged in pleasant banalities with some Shinra diplomats attached to their part. The pillars were high enough for her to have to crane her neck back to take it all in. There were plenty of silken drapes on the carved marble columns, vases of flowers that had probably been imported, glittering lights that shone like ice under a winter sun blazed shadows into deep corners where the rich and powerful mingled, plotted and schemed. There were so many guests it was almost like a sea of black tuxedoes, bright silks and blinding jewels. Tifa wanted to go back to her room.
Almost at once, President Shinra materialized with the Head of the Weapons Development Department, a woman named Scarlet. The woman certainly knew how to show off her best assets, Tifa thought wryly as she looked at the woman's dress, or rather the lack of one.
"Have you met the birthday boy yet?" President Shinra smiled down at Yuffie, who was one of the few people shorter than he was that were present. "Rufus, come over here. You have to meet Princess Yuffie."
One look at Rufus' carefully blank expression and the bodyguards in black suits that flanked him, and Tifa knew the man had been compelled to make his way over. He was very attractive, strikingly so with clear blue eyes and golden blond hair. Everything about him was carefully styled and spoke of the power and privilege he had been born to. "Your highness," he greeted smoothly, grasping Yuffie's hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.
To Tifa's great amazement, her best friend in the world did not proceed to snatch her hand back and glare at Rufus like the diseased parasitic fungus she had earlier declared him to be (his father, of course, was labeled the source of all diseased parasitic fungi, human and non-human alike). She kept her hand in his and smiled up at him, her eyes wide. The young bodyguard was sure that behind her, Chekhov and Staniv were probably on the floor looking for the eyes that had fallen out of their head at the sight of their hotheaded princess looking coyly up at the son of their all but sworn enemy.
"The pleasure is all mine," Yuffie quipped brightly. "I've heard so much about you, Vice-President."
"Please, call him Rufus," boomed President Shinra and with that, the young couple was swept away from them and Tifa was left to wind her way through the crowds in order to keep an eye on Yuffie.
Dinner was delicious but Tifa barely remembered anything she ate. She was too busy watching Yuffie work to rapidly thaw out Rufus Shinra. By the time dessert was over and the wine was served, the blond man had relaxed enough to drape a casual arm over the back of Yuffie's chair. Tifa had half a mind to demand just what she was playing at but decided she would wait until they returned to their guest quarters.
Unfortunately, Princess Kisaragi had other plans. "What do you mean you want me to leave you with him?" Tifa hissed as Yuffie dragged her away to the balcony. Somewhere in the background, Rufus Shinra lurked, a lazy half smile on his lips.
"Trust me, Tifa. I have this under control," Yuffie assured her while shooting Rufus admiring glances from beneath her lashes. "After all, we are here to attend his party."
"Yuffie, that's Rufus Shinra. Nobody has him under control, except maybe his father. Besides, isn't he the soul-sucking despoiler of the planet, to quote you?" Tifa said pointedly.
"For a soul-sucking despoiler, he isn't half bad looking. Besides, Father did say to do all in my power not to offend them. So stay away and don't ruin it for me." And with that, Yuffie wriggled out of Tifa's grasp and through the crowd back to Rufus. When they left, it was without the bodyguards and the latter's arm around the princess' slender waist.
She would have followed them, but Yuffie would have blown a gasket and besides, the bodyguards were now eyeballing her, almost as though they dared her to do so. Obviously Papa Shinra had given orders that his precious son was to be left alone with the Wutai princess. He probably wanted Rufus to marry Yuffie, Tifa thought, stricken. All was fair in love and war and apparently he felt love was better than war and marriage was a better way to wrangle control of the kingdom from Godo.
Tifa pinched the bridge of her nose and suddenly wished she hadn't had that last sip of wine. Alcohol just didn't sit well with her, especially when her stress levels were rising. Deciding that some fresh air was needed, she stepped out into the balcony and found, to her delight, that it was completely deserted. Walking away from the huge arched doorway, Tifa sought the far end, where it was quietest and away from the glare of the lights.
The cold air did much to revive her spirits. Arching her back, she stretched, stole a quick look around to make sure she truly was alone before kicking off her satin heels. Placing her hands on the ledge, she swung her legs over, folded her skirts modestly about her and pressed her aching heels against the night-chilled concrete. A sigh of satisfaction escaped her.
She did not realise that she was being watched until she heard the gentle scuff of a shoe on the floor. Sable brown hair slid over her shoulder as she snapped her head towards the sound, eyes afire with suspicion and battle-heat. And then she paused and almost forgot the need to keep her mouth shut.
He was possibly the most beautiful thing she had even seen.
Even in the shadows, his long silver hair which he wore loose had a soft sheen, the fringe framing an elegantly narrow face with chiseled features that would have been exceptionally pretty except for the somewhat grim set of those lips. He was very fair, almost white and very, very tall. The top of her head would barely reach his shoulder and she was not short. He did not wear a jacket but an old-fashioned tailcoat, which would have looked ridiculous on anyone but him. It was left unbuttoned and the immaculately white shirt and waistcoat beneath were visible. Silver cufflinks reflected the faint light, a pale gleam in the dark, much like the man himself.
"You might want to come down from the ledge." His voice was dark and deep, and he sounded amused.
"Eventually, yes," Tifa replied before turning away to stare at the city lights below. She was annoyed with herself for staring, practically gawking, and with him for noticing and not having the good grace to pretend otherwise.
"It's a long way down, in case you haven't noticed. Wine does tend to dull the senses."
She scowled when she realized just what exactly he was suggesting. "I am neither blind nor drunk. And this height is nothing compared to the mountains of Nibelheim and Wutai."
Realisation dawned. "You are Tifa Lockhart." The file had no photograph or portrait, and all he had gleaned from it was whatever little information the Turks could find. She was seventeen, a fact he now found slightly disturbing because sitting there in the dark, all slender curves in a green dress that set off the dark silk of her hair and eyes, she looked older, far more womanly and he was suddenly annoyed that she had chosen to wander off into isolated corners by herself. It didn't matter if the girl was one of the most accomplished martial artists in Wutai; not all monsters roamed the lands beyond the city gates, some wore expensive suits and smiled.
At the mention of her name, she turned once more and was startled to see that he had come closer. A lot closer. He was a mere three or four steps away from her now and she had not heard him move at all. He must have scuffed his shoe deliberately to let her know he was there. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine and she pulled the shawl closer around her, pretending it had to do with the night air and not the man. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how he knew but that would have been stupid. President Shinra had done his homework and that information must have trickled down to some of his underlings. Or this one had passed it up the chain of command. "And what is your name?"
"Lieutenant Crescent." The lie came smooth, naturally. The last thing Sephiroth wanted right now was an expression of awestruck worship or hatred laced with horror, which was the likelier of the two, granted that she was a naturalized citizen of Wutai. She could hardly be expected to be impressed at meeting the empire's premier general and the frontrunner for any war campaign to be waged against Wutai.
For one stupid moment, she thought that perhaps he was the General Sephiroth, the one mothers warned their children about when the latter were being impossibly naughty. Besides, he had been a legendary figure she had grown up hearing about. "He must be quite old," she mused under her breath.
"Who's old?" A silvery brow arched imperiously. She could not possibly mean him.
A self-amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Not you. Sorry, I was thinking about someone else for a moment. You did mention you work for Shinra's army…" Which placed him just a couple of rungs below Rufus Shinra in the diseased parasitic fungus scale of the universe.
"Was it General Sephiroth?" His name was practically synonymous with the army. Leaning his elbows on the ledge, he ran a finger under the collar of his shirt, loosening the top button. His hair spilled forward, lifted on the slight breeze, the ends dancing in the air on nothingness.
"There's only one General that infamous. Do you know him?"
At least she looked a bit more interested now, intrigued even. It would be a most entertaining way to spend a boring night. "More than I care to. The man is a complete slave-driver." What most people failed to realise was that Sephiroth really took that insult as a compliment. Only incompetent generals allowed their soldiers to loaf off. Besides, no cadet or SOLDIER had died under his training regimes. Yet. "And yes, he is old." When compared to wet behind the ears third class newbies. So technically, he wasn't lying. And concepts like youth and old age could be highly subjective.
As much as she wanted some gossip on the almighty, mysterious General, Tifa didn't think highly of career soldiers who badmouthed their superiors to outsiders. "He is very competent," she pointed out, and then almost gagged when she realized what she was doing.
Cat green eyes blinked in astonishment. Had the girl just defended him, and to a complete stranger and soldier of the empire? 'You are unusual,' he thought with something akin to admiration. "That's a matter of perspective," he replied quietly. According to Professor Hojo, he would never be good enough. Thank Gaia for Gast Faremis. Sephiroth had no doubt he would be an entirely damaged personality if not for the latter's kindness which had softened the harshness of a life already laid out for him even when he had been little more than a growing foetus in his mother's womb.
"I would be a fool not to acknowledge his skill at war. After all, even Emperor Godo speaks well of him." His battle acumen and fighting prowess, at least. Tifa did not think being called a heartless killing machine or a mindless slave of Shinra was complimentary. "Sometimes."
A sharp bark of amused laughter slipped past his lips. "That would be something to tell the General." He could see the alarm dance across Tifa's pretty face. "If we were on speaking terms, that is." She looked suspicious for a few more moments before relaxing.
Silence passed between them and although they were strangers, it was not all that uncomfortable. "So why are you out here instead of inside there? Either hobnobbing with the rich and powerful is not your cup of tea or you've already arrived and don't have to do that."
Both actually, he wanted to say. Unfortunately, that answer would simply have raised more questions than he cared to answer. "I was required to show up and now that the Vice President has taken his leave, I think I'm allowed the rest of the night off." It was not a lie, just two facts placed together and she was welcome to make whatever conjectures she wanted to. President Shinra naturally wanted his most powerful general around, as a warning to his enemies and as a trophy representative of the Empire's military strength. And since the second most important man at the party had already left, Sephiroth thought he could hardly be faulted for following in the footsteps of the President to be.
Was he a bodyguard too? Tifa tilted her head to study the man before her. His fingers were long, elegant, like the fingers of a pianist. In spite of his height, his build was almost slender. Maybe he was one of those deskbound military men who earned their ranks by using only their brains. He looked formidably intelligent but apart from his ability to move silently, she could not see anything that revealed an expert fighter. Head of Security perhaps, assigned personally to look after Shinra Jr.
"So what do you think of our fair city?" There seemed to be a ring of faint mockery in those words although his face remained impassive.
There was no harm in being honest. Her opinion counted for nothing here; it was Yuffie's and ultimately, Emperor Godo's that mattered. "When I look at Midgar, I think I do not want a Mako Reactor in Wutai." Underneath her feet glittered a carpet of artificial stars powered by stolen Lifestream. "It would kill the land. And I do not want the presence of Shinra troops that will inevitably follow the construction of such a device."
To her surprise, he did not immediately start frothing with fury or glaring at her as though she was some strange species of imbecile, which was what she had grown accustomed to when watching Godo negotiate with Shinra diplomats.
"There might not be a choice to make about that, eventually." Sephiroth had grown up surrounding by Shinra culture and politics all his life. He knew the President who had created him well enough. He had already been informed of the President's last resort measure if all else failed to persuade Godo. "But there are other options still available, if your Emperor can see them."
"You would rather live on your knees than die on your feet?" she shot back fiercely, although she kept her voice low.
"Pride is a stupid reason to throw away so many lives."
"Nothing has been set in stone; Shinra may not always win." Her fingers twined in the silk of the shawl, picking at a loose silver thread. "And sometimes, you have to try your best, regardless of the cost. It might be the only way to go on, should the worst happen." She gave him a curious look. "Didn't they teach you that as a soldier?"
That, and a whole lot more. Some of those by using methods that were best forgotten. "It's a hard road to walk."
For a moment, emotion flickered over his face, like lightning over summer skies. She would have missed it if she hadn't looked over at that moment. Something must have happened. This man hid things inside him, and perhaps he knew more than an ordinary cog in the Shinra wheel did.
"I've been told it is. But we try to make the wisest choices when we can and make do with the rest that is given to us." She smiled wistfully. "That's what my father told me anyway."
It was strikingly similar to something Gast had once told him. He had been only twelve, terribly bruised and bleeding from the grueling training sessions and weakened by another massive dose of Mako treatment. For the first time in his life, Sephiroth had thought of dying. The older man had spent the night attending to his physical wounds and soothing the ones that weren't visible. "I wish you were my father," the young boy had whispered and Sephiroth felt that memory like an ache in his spirit. Gast Faremis had disappeared ten years ago, never to seen again.
His silence was the only indication that her words actually meant something to him. Then, a few people stepped out onto the balcony, talking loudly, and the spell was broken. And she remembered that she was the princess of Wutai's personal bodyguard and he was a lieutenant of an enemy nation. It would not do to be caught alone with him in an isolated, intimate setting. Hastily, Tifa slipped off the ledge and donned her shoes, all too aware of bright green eyes on her. "I should go now. You have a good night." A few pairs of eyes turned in their direction. "See you tomorrow," she mumbled hastily as she brushed past him.
"Indeed," he murmured softly as the slim brunette escaped into the brightness of the ballroom. She did not know it yet but Sephiroth had every intention of holding her to her word. He waited a few minutes, sighed when he realized the others were staring at him with a strange mix of awe and revulsion, and made his own exit, head held high, once more the icy, aloof General.