Fairy Tale
By: zhak
For disclaimers, see the previous chapters. The Princess on the Pea was originally written by Hans Christian Andersen. Also, clippings from the song "Here In My Room," performed by Incubus, appear in this chapter.
Warnings: AU, slight OOC, violence, strong language, my favorite estranged pairing and the mention of alcohol. No nudity this time, pervies.
Once upon a time in Midgar…stands the majestic ShinRa Tower. A certain President runs this electric power company, but with all the power and money he has, he might as well be called "His Majesty." He has a wife and a son. He wants to see his son get married before he dies, and so he searches the whole Planet for a 'true princess'—that is, a woman fit enough to be his son's bride.
Meanwhile, a certain bartender exists in the 7th sector of Midgar. She lives a life of poverty and has the ShinRas to blame. Everyday, she glares at the majestic tower with scorn and loathing. She celebrates when a massive explosion takes place at the highest point of the building, and is aggravated when the Company regains its composure and continues running its machine of oppression.
That is, until one day… she looks up to the ShinRa Tower and senses an immense loss of power. The Company still functions however. She thinks it may be just her imagination.
"Tifa… read this, it's quite interesting," Vincent says as he reads one of the magazines in her 7th Heaven Bar. Tifa looks up to him curiously and sees the cover of the magazine. It is one of those tabloids that publish only the strange and the eccentric. The cover story is about scientists who may have the technology to bring the dead back to life—and how they hide that technology from the public. The girl frowns at him and sighs. "Vincent, should you really read such things?"
"I could read about the stock market or the gossip columns, but I'd rather not." He shows her a bloody photograph. It is a photo of the aftermath of the famed 70th floor explosion in full-blown Technicolor.
Tifa cringes. She doesn't like the sight of blood and ashes… too many bad memories. "So what is it about?"
Vincent turns the page and shows her the heading: ShinRa Family Dies in Explosion.
"Ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous…" she mutters, getting back to wiping the counter with her trusted dish rag. "If the ShinRas are dead, then their company should have died along with them. Besides, they couldn't keep a secret like that from the public. They're the most influential family in the world."
Vincent continues to read the article, skipping useless technical words and gets the gist of the write-up. He shrugs. "They provide a rather convincing argument, but they forgot to explain how the ShinRa family manages their public appearances…"
"Vincent, stop reading that before you pollute your own brain," Tifa smirks.
Vincent smiles at her. "Would you prefer it if I read about the love lives of the members of Prettier than Pink?" He mentions a popular girl band to her.
"I'd rather you read nothing." She looks up the clock. It is 2.30 PM. The child that lives with her, Marlene, will be coming home from school soon. "Would you like a drink?" she asks.
"If you have champagne, I'd love it."
"Yes, I know you love the smell of champagne." Tifa opens the refrigerator and obtains a bottle. As she pours liquid into two glasses, thunder begins to rumble from a distance. A storm approaches them, loud, threatening, frightening.
6.00 PM. Marlene does not come home. Tifa begins to panic. Vincent goes out and assures her that he will find the child. She does not want to be left alone. They agree to search Sector 7 together. When they find nothing, they split up and take the train to go to the upper sectors.
Tifa starts searching in the 3rd Sector, where the malls are found. She finds nothing. The rain does not stop falling. Her umbrella is ruined. She is soaked to the bone, but she does not stop searching for Marlene. She calls Vincent and he has not found her yet.
She goes up and does not stop. Her legs start to ache. She is cold. She clings to her hooded black jacket desperately as the winds grow stronger.
She is in Sector 1 at that moment. Her vision starts to blur. Vincent would not answer his phone. She stumbles at the gates of a very large mansion. Even though she just wants to ask for a child named Marlene, the welcome she receives is a strange one…
"Excuse me… sir?" she asks the guard on duty. The guard looks at her up and down. Tifa can feel his eyes piercing through her, judging her. Stop staring at them idiot I know I'm in the wrong Sector fuck you too
"I just want to ask if you've seen this girl? This girl right here," she gets her camera phone and shows him an image of Marlene. He shakes his head. "Sorry, ma'am. No sign of kids here or anything in this kind of weather."
Tifa sighs. "I see. Thank you," she turns around and moves to leave when a shiny black car appears on the driveway. She barely hears the guard exchange words with the unseen passenger. Before she can get past the gates, though, the guard calls out to her. "Ma'am! Ma'am!" he runs to her and carries an umbrella.
The bartender in the black jacket feels a chill travel to her spine. She turns around when the umbrella reaches her. "I'm sorry… this may seem a bit unorthodox, but my boss wants to see you. If you could just go into the car and greet them…?"
Tifa frowns. "I don't think so." She turns to leave, but the guard grips her shoulder. "Oh, I think so, when you find out who my boss is," the guard grins at her.
She raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, but I'm still trying to find somebody… maybe in another time…"
"Oh, but I insist," a voice speaks from behind them.
The guard instantly salutes. Tifa's eyes widen when she recognizes the voice. She bites her lower lip in worry.
President ShinRa is standing there, carrying his own umbrella. The rain causes spots of darker red on his red suit. "I understand you are searching for a little girl you've lost? We can help you."
Tifa is at a loss of words. President ShinRa holds out his hand courteously. Together they enter his limousine. The guard slams the door before the vehicle speeds off in the driveway.
She is embarrassed when she sits in the leather seats of the car. Her wet clothes make a squishy sound. Inside the limousine, too, is President ShinRa's beautiful wife. "Hello, dear," she waves a dainty hand at her.
"I…" she is not sure how to address the First Family. She is not even sure how she got in that position, facing them all of a sudden in the worst of occasions… but she's there.
The First Lady laughs. "Do not be intimidated by us, dear… or at least try not to be. We don't bite."
They arrive at the front steps of the house. Tifa is grateful for the roof that shields her from the rain. She gets out of the limousine and feels relief when she is out of it.
Before she could say another word, the First Lady calls a servant and commands her to bring Tifa a change of clothes. Then she is led to a luxurious guestroom and is asked to rest there for a while before she is called for dinner. She wants to ask how the influential couple will manage how to search for Marlene, but she does not get the chance.
In the guestroom, she gets her cell phone and tries to contact Vincent. But before she could find his name in the contact list, her cell phone beeps. Low Battery. Her phone dies just when Vincent's phone starts to ring.
The King and Queen of Midgar eat dinner with the bartender from the slums.
"Your name is Tifa Lockheart, my dear? Such a lovely name… fitting for somebody as beautiful as you." The President smiles at her almost proudly.
"Thank you, sir," she says weakly. Tifa can barely touch the food. She feels very awkward in their presence, as if everything they do is an attempt to upsize her and her fortunes.
The First Lady sips her water daintily before she spoke. "Tifa, dear, where do you live? And what do you do for a living?"
"Er… I live in Sector 7, Madame. I own a bar there… I'm the bartender." She blushes deep crimson.
The First Lady laughs. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, my dear. Bartending is a decent job."
Tifa wonders why they call her 'my dear'. Why do they suddenly treat her like a daughter or something?
"So, Tifa, who is this little girl you are searching for? Is she your daughter?" the President asks.
"Oh, no! No, sir… she's the daughter of a good friend of mine," she moves the food around her plate to pretend that she's enjoying her meal.
"Oh! That's a relief!" The most influential couple in the world laugh at the same time.
Tifa smiles uneasily. "I'm sorry… we were wondering how you could have a daughter at such a young age…" the President says. He sips his champagne.
The First Lady nods. "And don't worry about your friend's daughter… Marlene Wallace is her name, correct? We've already sent some people to search for her and that other man, Vincent Valentine?"
"Yes, Madame. Thank you."
The old man sniffs. "Who is this Vincent Valentine? He sounds vaguely familiar…"
"Er… he's just a good friend of mine. He used to work for ShinRa."
The First Lady looks directly into Tifa's eyes. "Is this Vincent anybody special?" There is a hint of teasing in her voice.
Tifa bites her lower lip. "No, not really… He's just a close friend, nothing special."
She smiles. "Good."
A few moments of silence.
"I think it's time we tell you the real reason why we let you in our home, Miss Lockheart."
"Yes?" She looks up curiously.
The couple looks at each other first, then the First Lady proceeds. "I assume you know of our son, Rufus?"
She nods. "Yes… he's your only son, right?"
"Indeed. The heir to our company," the President says. "A fine young man, but…"
"He doesn't have a wife, a special lady friend, or anything…" The First Lady sighs.
Tifa looks at them fearfully. "So… are you asking me to—"
"Well… sort of. We're not asking you to marry him immediately, that's very silly," she laughs.
"Then… what are you proposing?"
The First Lady asks her as courteously as possible: spend 3 days in our mansion. Get to know our son, our little prince. If you two end up liking each other, it would be marvelous, simply marvelous. However, if you do not get along, then you are free to go.
Tifa pauses for a while. She is torn… but she realizes that for the moment she has no choice; the storm still rages outside and she can't get in touch with anyone outside Sector 1. She agrees. It is very hard to turn down the request of the First Lady, courteous woman that she is.
They let her stay in the guestroom. They say that Rufus will be coming home late at night and could she please wait for him. She is told to make herself at home and wishes her a good-night's sleep.
Tifa is convinced that the ShinRas must have gained their riches because of their eccentricity.
Tifa stares at the stormy sky and imagines stars littered across the night sky from behind the great thundering rain clouds. Incoherently, they twinkle, but they still bring hope in the lover's heart.
Tifa has learned some time ago that the stars lie.
Now she sits at her bed and waits for the King and Queen's so called "little prince" to come visit her. She feels a slight discomfort as she sits on the bed… she tries to feel the covers if there is anything irregular.
No. Nothing. She is imagining things once again, like the time when she thought that she is strong enough to live on her own in the great city of Midgar, when she felt the strange loss of power from the great tower that looms a few blocks away… and the time when she thought that she could make a certain man fall for her. She is tired of her runaway imagination. She tries lying on her bed and contents herself counting the shadows passing on the ceiling, but once she settles in, a low, humming sound—no, make that a slight splashing sound—creeps to her ear…
She eyes her cell phone from the other side of the room. A charger is plugged to it. She wishes she could contact Vincent again and see if he and Marlene are safe and sound under the roof of the 7Th Heaven bar…
Tok-tok-tokShe sits up. "Come in, it's open," she calls out.
Rufus ShinRa opens the door. His gaze instantly lands on her. "Hello there," he greets her. He walks over to her and takes her hand. "Miss Lockheart, I presume?"
Tifa nods. She tries to swallow the lump in her throat. "Good evening… Vice President Rufus?" she says. She hopes that he does not notice the slight tremor in her voice.
"No need to be nervous," he says to her assuringly. "I hear you had a rough night."
"It's nothing, really…" she says, but trails off when Rufus interrupts her, "You look exhausted. Maybe you should rest now."
Tifa bites her lower lip. "I would, but… well…" she wants to tell him that she can't possibly sleep in that bed because of that strange phenomenon, but she hesitates because she will sound like a spoiled guest.
She is relieved when he seemed to have read her mind. "Oh… I see. It's the bed, is it?" She nods sheepishly.
"I don't know, but… there's something about it that…" she trails off again. "I can't sleep in that kind of bed."
He flips his hair. "Then I'll have to keep you company. You don't want to be awake all night all by your lonesome," he sits on a chair beside the bed. "Lie down," he says. Almost a command coming from him.
She looks at him strangely. She pauses and thinks about her options. If he does anything funny, she thinks to herself, she could always use her martial arts training against him. Then she could escape from the mansion and brag to her friends about what she did to the President's kid…
That is, if he tries anything funny. She lies down and waits for him to move.
"Now. Tell me anything about yourself. Anything at all."
"Anything?"
"Anything. It could be about your job, your family, your house, your favorite television program, your pet Chocobo, your ideal man, your fears, your dreams… anything. Entertain me." His icy-blue eyes, Tifa muses, look slightly familiar… The way they stare into her crimson ones, it is almost as if he was pinning her down, freezing her, commanding her not to go anywhere.
Tifa tries not to mind. She begins telling him about herself, starting from her name (Tifa Lockheart), her age (22), her job (a bartender), her weapon of choice (I'd rather use my fists in knocking out people) and where she comes from (I may live in Sector 7, but I'm a Nibelheim local)… then she pauses slightly, at a loss for words. Rufus urges her to keep talking, and she tells him the next things on her mind. She tells him about the things she does in her bar, like serving drinks to her customers and being forced to hurt those who want her for her body. She tells him about her friend Barret and his little kid Marlene, whom she's grown very attached to, like maybe a little sister or her own daughter. She tells him about her friend Vincent and how he looks after her as if she was a daughter he never had. She tells him about her fascination for the stars. She tells him about a friend she lost in Midgar, the SOLDIER boy who might have died already if tabloids are to be believed. She keeps on talking and talking and only waits for his eyes to glaze over, or for him to yawn, or any indication that he's bored. But he still listens. He doesn't tire of her stories.
It was past 12 when she ran out of things to say, however, Rufus still doesn't seem to appear bored or sleepy or tired even for a little.
"Do go on, Miss Lockheart," he says. His voice is still alert, not at all tired or husky.
She swallows; she is suddenly aware of how tired her throat felt. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what to say anymore…"
They fall silent. Rufus just keeps his eyes fixated on her. "Please stop staring. I find it uncomfortable…"
He smiles slightly at her, "I'm sorry. I find you beautiful, that's why." And he flips his hair. He goes on to explain, "I have a special liking for beauty… and I have never seen beauty such as yours."
She blinks at what he had just said but she cannot deny the fact that she felt too flattered. She blushes. No one has mentioned that to her that before… well, aside from her own parents. "I… I see." She looks down on the white comforters spread on her bed. She does not want to meet his eyes; they freeze her.
"It's late." Rufus looks up to the clock. It is 5 minutes to 1:00. "Are you sleepy now?"
Tifa realizes that she is indeed very tired, but the same feelings she had lying on her bed still lingers… "I am, but I still can't sleep…"
"Do you want me to stay with you?"
"I don't want to be a bother."
"You aren't." He doesn't stand up.
Tifa smiled slightly. "Thanks."
Rufus shrugs. "It's not like I'm doing anything significant tomorrow. It's just the same money-making job of mine…"
"That's funny. I thought the ShinRas are all about making money," Tifa feels a slight twinge of hatred at her chest; it is the same hatred she has for ShinRa Electric Power Company.
"I'm sure Old Man is. But I'm not." He flips his hair again.
"Oh, really now?… I think it's your turn to tell me all about yourself," she smiles at him wryly.
Rufus laughs a little. "I think not, Miss Lockheart. Maybe tomorrow… Right now I'm here to help you get some sleep."
You enter and close the door behind you
Now show me the world as seen from the stars
If only the lights would dim a little
I'm wary of eyes upon my scars
Tifa is not sure how it happened, but Rufus does his job pretty well. All she remembers is a haunting melody reaching to her ears… and a pair of cold hands embracing her from behind her as she lay down on the bed. The scent of champagne fills her nostrils before her eyes close. She remembers a few fragments of her dream when she awakes the next morning and finds her breakfast at the end table.
During the day, the prince is not there. He is working again in the tower she has learned to despise.
That evening, she finds her bed stacked beneath 30 mattresses. The First Lady is there to explain:
"Well, dear… Rufus tells me that you had a hard time sleeping last night."
Tifa blushes. But she nods all the same.
"It's the bed, isn't it?… well, I have a feeling that it's the bed. These mattresses are here to help you deal with it." The First Lady smiles.
"I… see." Tifa stares at the pile of mattresses. She imagines that her nose would rub against the ceiling if she lies down. "How do I get up there?"
A servant comes in to bring a ladder.
---
She squeezes in beneath the mattress and the ceiling. She has little room to move her arms or her legs, but she can still breathe. She puts her palms against the ceiling to see how high up she really is. "Well… this is certainly interesting."
She looks at her phone. She has just sent an SMS to Vincent. He hasn't been answering her calls. When she inquired a while ago about the search, the President says, "it's all under control."
"Comfy?" She barely hears Rufus' voice from below. She peers at him from near the ceiling. "There isn't much room to move up here…"
"Well, you aren't the type of person who moves around in her sleep."
"How would you know?"
"I watched." He flipped his hair again. Tifa noticed how his fingers worked his fine, blonde bangs when he does that.
"Do you always do that? Flip your hair, I mean."
Rufus shrugs.
"How are you going to tell me stories when I'm way up here and you're way down there?"
He doesn't answer. He starts climbing up the mattresses before Tifa can stop him. "If you're going to climb up here, why not use the ladder?"
"No need," he says casually. He reaches the 30th mattress. "Good evening."
She stares at him curiously. He just sits beside her. "Quite comfortable, don't you think?" he asks while testing the mattress, bouncing up and down a little.
"I… I suppose so," she replies uneasily. "But we're still too high up."
"So? It's not like we're lacking oxygen or anything. In fact, it's quite peaceful, the way we're out of reach from the people below." He smiles at her naughtily. When she cringes, he puts his poker face back on.
"It's weird seeing you smile like that."
"I know. I save it for all the right people."
"So… you promised me stories about yourself this time. I'm all ears. Your life must be very interesting," she says, regaining her composure. She turns to him as she puts a hand up to rest her head on it.
Rufus takes a few moments of silence first before he proceeds. He doesn't bother giving her his name, age, address and whatnot—he begins with the most significant events of his life, his frustrations with his job, his relationship with "Old Man," the way the Turks really function, how he was exposed to the unethical experiments of Dr. Hojo—basically ShinRa behind the scenes. Tifa stops him every now and then to ask questions. She notices how he observes her eyes first before he answers. Maybe he is checking if she is really listening or not.
"So tell me… how did you survive the explosion? I heard you were all alone when the attack happened…" She looks at him curiously.
He looks blankly at the space before him.
"I've seen the pictures and everything… nobody could have survived a blow like that."
"It's not a big deal. They see me all bloody, burnt and injured, but not hopeless. They got me to the hospital as fast as possible. After 3 days, they had my body reconstructed, so I'm good as new. You know how it is… ShinRa, its brilliant scientists and their scientific know-how. They healed me as fast as possible… as for my parents, well, they aren't there when the explosion happened, so the rumor that the explosion could have killed ShinRa isn't true." He flips his hair again.
"Oh. Okay." Despite herself, Tifa is relieved. She regretted wanting Rufus to die during those tumultuous times.
He looks at his wristwatch. 3.32 AM. "It's late… very late… or very early, depending on how you look at it." He turns to her. "I hope you're comfy enough to sleep on your own… Are you?"
Tifa feels her eyes drooping. She lays her back on the soft, expensive mattress, but as soon as she does, a feeling of dread fills her. "I…" she stammers. She does not know how to say it to Rufus, but a presence is there beneath the mattresses… the 30 mattresses piled on top of it did not suppress it.
"Still no?" he says. His icy blue eyes pins her down again.
"I'm afraid not…"
"Well then…" he softly puts a cold hand on her forehead. She freezes upon his touch. He begins stroking her forehead—slowly, softly… She stares at him uneasily. His cold eyes do not change. But there is something about his stare that hypnotizes her…
She feels sleep overcome her again. Cold hands wrap around her abdomen from beneath the mattresses. An eerie melody plays in the deep recesses of her mind.
If the world would fall apart
In a fiction-worthy wind
I wouldn't change a thing
Now that you're here
The smell of champagne fills her nostrils before she loses consciousness.
---
It happens at 7.21 in the next evening.
She desperately tries to contact Vincent again through her cell phone. She cannot go out to the other sectors to search for him. President ShinRa still hasn't told her any good news regarding the search.
"Vincent, please answer…" she mutters under her breath. The clock ticks as tensely as her voice. The other phone just rings. Nobody answers.
The number you have dialed is out of service. Please try again later.
"Fuck," she mutters. She paces around the room as she dials the numbers again.
The number you have dialed is out of service. Please try again later.
"Hell!" she does not resist the urge to throw her phone to the ground. It slides under her bed.
She chides herself for losing her temper. She gets on her hands and knees to reach for the phone. But she freezes midway.
A slight sound emerges. Splash
Her heart starts to beat wildly. She pales. The smell of champagne fills her nostrils; it is very strong now.
"Hello, Tifa," a voice speaks from the doorway.
She turns around. Standing there, watching her, are the President, the First Lady and Rufus.
Tifa stands up shaking. "Rufus… what's going on?"
"Tifa, dear… did you enjoy your stay in our mansion?" the First Lady asks, her voice very sweet, endearing, motherly. There is something unnatural about her smile.
"Rufus… I asked you… what's going on?" her voice sounds frantic now.
"Miss Lockheart, we are very lucky to have found a woman like you for our son over here," the President says proudly. Tifa steps back. She thinks she heard the President's voice as a warped record.
"Rufus…?" she pleads. She is afraid now. Rufus closes his eyes first before he says in a low voice, "Yes, Tifa. Have you found out what you've been sensing since your first night here?"
"What…?" she asks, her voice as soft as a frightened child's. Her eyes widen.
Rufus' eyes are gazing at the bed. She turns. She pales even more.
With all her might, she frantically pulls off all the mattresses of the bed. The ShinRas calmly watch her from the doorway.
It is a hard job, but Tifa finishes in record time. The covers, the pillows, the mattresses are all over the room. Only the wooden frame of the bed remains.
Only it isn't a bed-frame at all. It is a wooden casket. There is a handle. The world is in slow motion when she opens it…
She found herself staring at a man's corpse. He has blonde hair, his skin perfectly reconstructed. His white clothes are soaked. He is floating in champagne.
"R… R…." she stammers.
"I am so glad to have found you, Tifa. I feel like I know you as much as I know myself."
She loses consciousness. She lands in the wooden case. She hears her body splashing in the red liquid. In her dream, she is embracing the prince as somebody locks her in his prison…
-end-
Author's notes: Might be twisted, but not sure if it's scary. Ah well.
I must edit this soon. I don't know when. Anyway, thank you for reading this. Please leave your suggestions in the review. (smile).
I'm not sure if bodies are supposed to be preserved in wine. I know there's alcohol in champagne, so heck, I used it here. Hee hee hee!
Due credits go to: GQ for helping out when I'm spacing out. She just can't resist. XD
side note: Rawr. Zhak is angry. Nobody is reading Zhak's work. Oh well. I might as well finish this thing. Sayang naman ang creativity ko.