Author's Notes:

So, this will be the third chapter in a row I've written from work, heh. I don't own FF or any of its characters. Final Trinity is coming.

Chapter Fourty Two

Training

When dawn came, the Red Wings were finally allowed to rest from their vigil. Half of their number got to sleep, while the other half were put at ease, allowed to rest, but not sleep. This continued for four hours, until Rude ordered the sleeping half awake, and the resting half to sleep. Thus a sleeping rotation began.

Whoever was awake trained with Rude and Tifa, receiving a crash course in hand to hand fighting, learning how to watch your opponent's movements and anticipate how they'd act. Very few became proficient in the quick lessons. There just wasn't enough time.

All the while, Rude wanted to hit something. He tried to keep his normal, stoic behaviour wrapped about him like a cloak, but found it increasingly difficult. He was trapped in Fort Condor, surrounded by an enemy army that hid during the day and came out at night, screaming for blood.

And worse, he was being forced to baby-sit a group of inept children. He wanted to take his rope that was still tied to a nearby stalagmite and climb out of the Fort, away from these children and away from this fight that wasn't his own.

But he didn't.

Maybe it was the fight. The chance to test himself nightly against a deadly opponent. A part of him craved it, certainly. Demanded it. He always longed for the next night to come, the next test, the next series of fights.

Another part of him knew that if the White Scourge won out, more than Fort Condor would be overrun. Radio contact with Cosmo Canyon, while sparse, just proved that the albinos had an enormous reach. Where they came from, no one knew, but everyone was certain that they had to be driven back.

But no. The real reason why he stayed, and he knew it deep down, was because of Tifa. He wanted no part of this particular fight. It was over his head, and he wasn't used to playing hero. That was Avalanche's job, and as Cloud liked to remind him, Rude wasn't a part of Avalanche.

Tifa held up one of the spears that the Red Wings were using, displaying how she was gripping it to a circle of twenty teenagers. "You hold it like this. Your left hand guides it, while your right puts all the strength into it. Lunge with the right, aim with the left. Unless, of course, you're left handed. Then it's the other way around."

She then showed the teenagers the importance of footwork, and where to place your weight when lunging, and where to put it at rest. Rude watched it all with a kind of awkward amazement. How did she know how to wield a spear so well?

She paused for a moment in her display, looked directly at Rude, and smirked.

Even hidden behind his glasses, it became apparent that his eyes had widened at that. Once again, she knew what he was thinking, and had responded in her own little way, the smirk saying, I learned from watching the best.

She knew how to wield a spear so well because she had seen Cid do it daily during their hunt for Sephiroth.

And even more shocking, he realized he had just done to her what she had done to him for the past week. He had known exactly what she was thinking just from her facial expressions.

She winked at him, and continued on with her lesson.

All the while, Rude thought of the next move. There were two sides to the mountain of Fort Condor. One was very steep and guarded by the Red Wings, the other more assailable and guarded by the older soldiers, veterans, and mercenaries. So far, the White Scourge had stuck with just attacking the front that was easier to mount, but the last attack had been more focused on the Red Wings' side.

Worse, Rude had killed one member of their precious Trinity, and then further humiliated them by harrying their retreat. The Scourge would attack the Red Wings' side again this night. They'd want to get some measure of their pride back.

And judging from Rude's count, they had probably killed three hundred albinos last night. Three hundred out of a force of thousands. There were only fourty eight Red Wings, and the force on the other side of the fort barely numbered one hundred.

"Tifa," Rude said, looking to her once more.

Putting down the spear, the woman moved closer to him, waving dismissing gestures to her students. "Yes?"

Rude pulled her aside, further away from the prying eyes and ears of the ever curious Red Wings.

"We're not going to win," Rude said quietly.

"What?" Tifa asked, shocked at the finality in his tone.

"We're not going to win. The Scourge outnumbers us too greatly."

"So what? You're giving up?"

Her accusing words cut him, and he nearly flinched away. Instead, he set his jaw and looked her firmly in the eyes through his sunglasses.

"You're serious, aren't you?" she asked. "You want to give up. What about Fort Condor? What about the Red Wings? You have a responsibility here!"

"We can't do this on our own. We need…" He realized what he was about to say and shut his mouth firmly. He would not say that.

But Tifa knew what he was about to say and finished for him. "Cloud. You think we need Cloud."

He nodded slowly, and a smile spread across Tifa's face. "That's unexpected of you. I didn't think you'd ever admit to us needing him in some way. I thought you were jealous."

I am, he thought. "I… I need you to leave."

"What?" she asked incredulously.

"I need you to leave Fort Condor. Go find Cloud. Bring him back here. We need all the help we can get. If anyone else is with him, bring them, too."

Tifa stood up straighter, as if realizing what Rude was asking of her. She knew that the only real reason that he was there was because of her, and now he was asking her to leave. Leave to go find Cloud.

"I'll hold the Fort," he said.

She gave him a sympathetic look, and leaned in, planting a firm kiss on his lips. When she pulled away, she said, "I love you."

"No you don't," he responded. "But thanks anyway."

The slap across his cheek left his head ringing, almost as much as the next kiss that she gave him did. He felt a small tingling behind his ears and a small flush crawling in his cheeks when she finished.

"I do love you," Tifa said firmly.

"Good. I love you, too. Come back quickly."

Nodding, the female fighter turned from him, and grabbing the rope he had tied earlier, threw it over the edge and climbed down.

One of the Red Wings, a boy of seventeen asked, "Where's she going?"

Rude smiled. "She's going to save us all."

Author's Note:

Ug. I actually lost the disk with the chapter, so I had to rewrite it from scratch. And believe me, it was hard. Sorry about the lateness. I'm hoping to break that habit, heh.