There was a major part of the night Cloud didn't remember. He remembered he and Zack started a drinking game. The next thing he knew, he was laying on the floor humming a tune his mother always sung.

There was a warmth on his stomach. Cloud knew it was Zack, sound asleep. This didn't feel awkward or anything. They were still clothed. Or at least Cloud was.

Then next thing he knew two people were standing over him. Cloud opened his eyes. His brain registered Angeal, but his focus stayed on Sephiroth.

"I'm surprised you're awake." Sephiroth stated.

"Can't sleep." The village accent was thick in Cloud's voice.

"I'll be taking my brother home." Angeal gathered Zack into his arms.

Soon as the weight was gone Sephiroth took his turn to carry Cloud. The blond welcomed the familiarity and nuzzled his face into the warm chest. Immediately he felt a warmth from his left hand. It earned a soft gasp.

"With a belly full of mead you forget your hatred towards me." Sephiroth observed as he made for the bed.

"Go easy on him, Seph." Angeal advised before he left through the door.

"No I...I think I'm learning to accept this strange path my life is taking." Cloud admitted.

"Interesting. I wonder if you will feel the same once the mead wears off." Sephiroth replied as he placed the blond on the bed.

Cloud watched as the prince removed the decorative armor. The only garment Sephiroth kept on were his pants. Then he joined the blond on the bed.

"Now that it's just us, I gather you have other questions you wished not to let others overhear." Sephiroth really was good at observing people. Or perhaps the blood bind gave him an edge.

"Do you really believe in the Promised Land?" It was the first question that came to mind.

"Hmm. If you had asked me a year ago, the answer would be yes. But now I have my doubts." Sephiroth hummed.

"So then why give them false hope? I know I didn't see no Promised Land."

"Was anything that Ifalna saw true?" Sephiroth frowned.

"Up until the paths diverges. But then again she would probably see more than I was shown. I always got scared and the vision ends." Cloud shrugged.

Sephiroth studied him. The blond knew he was searching for any means that he was lying. And he found none, he grew curious.

"You left out the wing when we met and you described the vision."

"Hmm. You answer my question first. Then I'll explain." Cloud actually smirked playfully.

Sephiroth sighed. It was one of slight irritation. But he was entranced with the playfulness.

"It was a means for you to earn your keep here. So it will be easier to grant you a life as a blacksmith."

"I figured as much." Cloud surprised the prince with the admission. "I left out the part of the wing because I felt that it would make it seem, I don't know, that I'm making it up? It was such a surprise that I almost fell off the mountain."

"I believe you." Sephiroth saw no lies. "Was there anything else you left out?"

Cloud looked away. He wasn't sure if he should. But he had to remind himself this man had the power to send him to his death if he had enough reason behind it.

"The first half, you beckoned me closer. My body obeyed. But my mind had a seething hatred burning hotter than the flames of the village. I couldn't stop my body from moving. So I followed you. I would glare at the back of your head occasionally as we climbed the mountain."

As Cloud recalled the vision, other details came to mind. And the mead loosened him enough to speak them out loud.

"At some point I gave up hating you. Or maybe I stopped putting in the effort. It was tiresome enough going up that mountain. I was behind you the whole way up. Until we reached the top. I found myself next to you, like equals. It had me confused even in the vision."

Cloud could barely keep his eyes open. He was so exhausted. Without thinking the blond hummed the tune he was humming before. And slowly it put Cloud to sleep.

He awoke just before dawn. The only reason he even woke up at all was because Sephiroth roused him.

"Don't wanna." Cloud complained.

"Biggs is starting the forge. You need to get moving." Sephiroth encouraged.

"Is there something more appropriate to wear then? This isn't a proper blacksmith tunic." Cloud groaned as he forced himself to sit up.

"You just want to make sure I get up too, don't you?" Sephiroth chuckled breathily.

"You got me up. You don't get to lay back down and sleep. Being a prince and all." Cloud crawled over Sephiroth to begin his search for a different tunic.

"One will think you're my wife." It sounded like a jest, however it made Cloud freeze.

"...Too soon?" Sephiroth sensed the air change like a winter wind.

Cloud rummaged through the clothes. He found a tunic that wasn't made of the luxurious fabric. However he will have to adjust the length later at some point. It nearly came down to his knees.

Hurriedly Cloud clasped the belt before taking his leave. He paused in front of the house to breathe in the morning air. He came to realize he missed the cold air of Nibelheim. All year around the sharp air never went away.

Midgar was a bit more humid. Perfect for a better variety of crops he supposed. But it didn't smell or taste like home. Bitterly Cloud thought that this was his home now.

"Hey, Cloud! Is it Cloud or is it Stormcloud? I've heard both." Biggs called out.

"No one has earned the right to call me Stormcloud." He replied loud enough for others awake and nearby to hear.

"Sorry about that." Biggs was sincere.

"I can tell when one is genuine. You didn't insult me." Cloud assured as he approached.

"Right. Well, I'm glad you got up just in time for the forge warming up." The blacksmith changed the subject with ease.

"So what will be the day planned out for today?" Cloud inquired.

"Right now, you gotta get back into shape. For right now you help me around the forge. I'll let you fix up any weapons, shields or armor that need fixing. Once you've regained your strength then I'll test how you make swords."

"I know the basics. But my village methods might be different. We used them for ceremonies than actual fighting." Cloud informed.

"Well, it's something to work with. You can learn as you watch me make them." Biggs smiled at the promise his pupil had.

"Great. Let's get started." Cloud was eager to get back into the pattern of familiarity. Even though it wouldn't be the same as home, it gave him something to do.

This became his routine. Cloud learned that making swords was similar to home. The only difference he can find were different materials were used. Then again Midgar was abundant in more ore mines than Nibelheim.

However he noticed that all the swords Biggs made were the same. There weren't special customizations like Sephiroth, Genesis or Angeal.

"How come they get to have special weapons? Sephiroth and his two best warriors?" Cloud wondered one day.

Sephiroth had a sword longer than he was tall. Genesis had a flashy red sword with a blue jewel and silver wings. Angeal was simply carrying a monster of a sword.

"Oh, they earned them. I never created those weapons. I was still in training. That right was done by my master. He didn't even let me help them with those."

"So only the best warriors get to customize their weapons and armor?" Cloud tilted his head.

"Yeah, pretty much. But it has to take a considerable feat to earn such a right. So far none have done it. I have a running bet that Zack will someday." Biggs flashed a grin as he said that.

Cloud silently agreed. They went back into work. A blacksmiths work was never done. Since Biggs was the most popular, someone was always dropping off something for repairs or a request for a new sword.

In a blink of an eye almost three weeks passed. And Cloud was almost fully back to himself. His muscles were back, and he was no longer a skinny exotic bird plucked from a strange home.

Cloud felt the stares once more. This time it wasn't just mild irritation or curiosity that he was the one with the strange visions of Sephiroth. Now he felt the same lust that he often dealt with back at his old life.

Except this came with a different set of problems.

"What? We just fixed this three days ago! How can it be broken again?" Biggs was in total shock with the customer.

Cloud didn't hear the excuses. He picked up the weapon in question. And frowned. The break was clean. Not jagged from wear and tear of use.

"This looks intentional." Cloud accused.

"What?" Biggs approached for a better look. He took the piece that Cloud was examining to have a close look at the break. And frowned.

"What the hell? Why would you intentionally break your sword!?" The older blacksmith turned to the warrior.

"I didn't!" He defended. But his ears burned red.

"Because of me. Hoping to get closer and try to find any means to sweep me off my feet." Cloud crossed his arms. "It seems you guys are worse than home. At least my people had some decency to act like I'm not some damn honeycomb dangling in front of them."

At his words the warrior was bright red in the face.

"Okay, know what, I'm bringing this to the attention of someone important in the longhouse. You come along. Cloud, finish up that armor order." Biggs part sighed part groaned.

"You want me here alone?" Cloud tensed.

"The longhouse is just ten feet away. You'll be fine." Biggs didn't see the same danger his pupil did.

Cloud felt every eyes on him when he was alone. And his heart raced. He felt a strange sensation on his left hand but his mind didn't focus on it as he hurriedly worked on the armor.

"What is going on?" Sephiroth's voice startled the blond.

"Don't! Sneak up on a blacksmith working." Cloud whirled around. "You're lucky I'm used to kids being assholes. Otherwise I could have lost a hand."

"I don't see children being a nuisance." Was that a jest, or an actual observation?

"Can I finish my work?" Cloud didn't have the want to even deal with whatever caught the prince's attention.

"Where is Biggs?" Sephiroth finally noticed.

"He went inside the longhouse with a customer who intentionally broke his sword just so he can try to flirt with me." It came out so casually it took Cloud a second to realize what he had just told Sephiroth.

He felt it in his palm first. Burning, seething and possessive all at the same time. Cloud bravely looked up and wanted to shrink and curl up and hide among the chocobos. Even the silent spectators tensed and hurriedly went back to whatever they were doing.

But they were still watching. Still listening. And Sephiroth surprised everyone, Cloud most of all.

A hand grabbed him at the back of his head. Cloud didn't even have time to think as he was pulled closer. His yelp was cut short from a passionate kiss.

It was overwhelming. Dominating and hot with a wicked tongue. And strangely Cloud couldn't find any reason not to like it. If anything he felt as if he were drowning. Being swallowed up by Sephiroth.

When air became a pressing matter the kiss ended. Cloud was left gasping, red faced and doing his best to calm the growing ache between his legs. And Cloud understood the reason for the very public make out session.

Sephiroth was placing his claim on Cloud.

"Don't I get a say in this?" He glared.

"You didn't reject me." Sephiroth chuckled.

Cloud looked away.

"I got orders to fix." He pulled away to at least try and get back into work.

Sephiroth silently left the same he approached. Not long afterwards Cloud heard the familiar footsteps of Biggs. And to his embarrassment the blush was still present on his face.

"...What happened?" Biggs noticed how everyone around them seemed terrified and Cloud was blushing.

"I don't think it will be a problem anymore with admirers." Cloud didn't elaborate further than that.

Biggs put two and two together and nodded.

"So tomorrow we won't have work."

"What?" Cloud turned in surprise.

"Tomorrow is the festival for summer turning into winter. The change of seasons are big celebrations here. And, well, the main entertainment will be the Fighting Ring."

"Are we allowed to watch?" Cloud felt his stomach turn.

"Yes. I just don't think you should. But I won't stop you."

Cloud remained hopeful. Tifa and Jessie were the best of the best from home. If anyone will win, they can. He was certain of it.