Title: Fairytale

Chapter: 5/author not well organised enough to know how long this thing will be

Characters: Everyone I can think of a role for

Pairings: Sephiroth/Cloud, Zack/Aerith, Tifa/Rude, mentions of Sephiroth/randoms and others as we encounter them

Rating: R overall

Summary: An angst-light fairytale about a cursed prince.

Warnings: Yaoi, het, violence, language, a cavalier attitude to historical accuracy, silliness and bloody Sephiroth being an angst muffin.

A/N: Gah. Just, gah. I'm sorry about how late this chapter is. There's the usual excuses about job hunting and family drama and a borked computer and an apparently interminable TAFE course. Plus, to apply for jobs I need a portfolio, which I have, but I hate it, so I'm trying to come up with new things. Anyway, rambling aside, anyone who's still reading this ...creation, thanks for your patience!

I'm hoping to move the plot forward this chapter: Sephiroth's had time to observe and be impressed with Cloud (or at least his loyalty to his friends), but Cloud's only really thought

"ooh, shiny" after experiencing blood loss. Plus there's that second test thing.

That night, the Queen had a nightmare.

She watched her own beheading on a frozen altar. The slash of a shining blade. The blood spilt, wine-dark, over snow and ice. Steam rose in its wake before it froze, and days and weeks buried it under more ice until there wasn't a trace of her blood, her life left. She watched shining people bury her body beneath lead and stone and earth, and saw her head frozen in the northern seas.

All the while, she was trapped in the earth, choking on living soil.

Sephiroth woke earlier than usual, the taste of blood thick on his tongue. He woke up sluggishly, from a deep and bone-weary sleep. At first he thought he'd just drift off again; he could tell without opening his eyes that it wasn't quite dawn yet. He could hear the birds beginning to sing outside his window, though, and the noise distracted him. He frowned and pushed his cheek into his firm pillow, trying to ignore the - Firm? His pillows were stuffed with goose feathers. Awareness still hovered just beyond his reach, but Sephiroth knew that much.

And his pillow covers were made of fine cotton, not silk. He opened his eyes. They certainly weren't purple, either. A vague (and rather pleasing) thought about the feel of Cloud's thigh under his hand drifted through Sephiroth's sleep addled brain.

Cloud. Sephiroth whipped his head around. He remembered the night before, could always remember what he did as the monster prince, even though he controlled none of it. It was like being captive in his own head, forced to watch himself do terrible things, things far worse than he'd ever done in battle. Thankfully, Cloud slept quite peacefully, nestled into the spray of roses Aerith left the day before. One hand, its fingers wrapped in bloodstained rags, curled up endearingly beside his parted lips. Sephiroth felt something warm uncurl in his chest. Quite a pleasant, if somewhat unusual sensation. But that was a mystery for later.

That hand needed attention, he thought. The rags were still sticky with fresh blood. Rather gingerly, he reached for Cloud's shoulder. He was careful to remain at arm's length, so as not to startle him, and called his name.

Cloud jerked awake, his uninjured hand immediately groping for the hunting knife on his other side. Sephiroth hastily withdrew, both hands raised to shoulder height in an attitude of surrender.

'It's alright,' he said. 'It's morning, I won't hurt you.' He waited until Cloud put the knife back down before he shuffled closer again. 'Let me look at your hand.'

'My...?' Cloud glanced at his fingers, still curled in front of his face. He blinked. 'Oh. I did that.' He struggled to sit up, hindered somewhat by his injured hand and the spray of flowers. His hair had escaped its ornaments during the night and become entangled. Sephiroth helped him free himself, picking at the tangle with his fingertips.

When he'd settled himself with his back propped against the headboard - several rose petals and cornflowers still raveled in his hair - Cloud wordlessly held out his hand. His face was pale with fatigue, but his expression remained sharp and wary. Sephiroth began unpicking the makeshift bandages, taking special care not to jostle Cloud's fingers. It gave him an excuse not to meet Cloud's eyes. He was grateful for it.

'I apologise for this,' he said as he worked. 'I'll understand if you -'

'You don't have to,' said Cloud. He fidgeted. 'I... broke your vase. And that table... and um, I hope those papers on your desk weren't important. I'm sorry.'

Sephiroth dropped the last of the bandages onto the coverlet and stared at him. So many apologies, and he was sure he didn't deserve any of them. Cloud blushed, but didn't look away.

'You're not going to apologise for stabbing me, now, are you?' Sephiroth said exasperatedly.

'No, you deserved that.'

Apparently Cloud hadn't meant to say that. His eyes widened (and they were already wide with fatigue) and his face paled. That could as easily have been blood-loss, Sephiroth supposed.

He gripped Cloud's wrist gently and held his hand up so it was above his heart.

'I can't do much for this,' he said, by way of explanation. 'If you hold it up like this, though, it will help slow the bleeding. Hopefully, Zackary will think to bring Aerith this morning. She is a very gifted healer.'

Cloud's arm looked awkward, held out and up at a high angle. Sephiroth edged closer to spare him any more discomfort. One of Sephiroth's knees bumped softly against Cloud's. The soft rasp of silk on fine-spun wool sent a weird tingle along Sephiroth's spine. That, at least, was something familiar.

Out in the corridor, there were faint sounds of raised voices and running footsteps, rapidly drawing near. Sephiroth ran an idle thumb over the palm of Cloud's hand, not entirely sure why. Maybe it was the calluses he felt under his fingers. He'd always preferred tradesmen over aristocrats.

'You...' he said after a long moment of silence. 'You are a remarkable man.'

Almost soon as he'd spoken, the door burst open, sparing Sephiroth what he was certain was going to be another awkward moment. Zack and Kadaj tumbled in, Zack with his shoulder pressed firmly into Kadaj's neck.

'You can bloody well wait for half an -' Zack broke off, gaping. A heartbeat later, he broke into a storm of - to Sephiroth, inexplicable - laughter. Cloud watched him, looking quite as bewildered as Sephiroth felt.

Kadaj stood a pace behind Zack, a look somewhere between fear and disappointment on his face. At least he was easily handled. Sephiroth sat up and straightened his clothing as best he could, which wasn't much, then leveled his most haughty expression at Kadaj. He ignored the still-cackling Zack.

'May I help you, Kadaj?' he said.

'Mother sent me,' Kadaj glanced at Cloud, who was beginning to smile himself at the sight of Zack's mirth. His lip curled. 'She wanted to know if the girl survived.'

'As you can see, Lady Tifa did,' Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. 'If that is all, leave. I have things to discuss with Viscount Fair and my fiancée.'

Kadaj didn't move. 'She'll want details,' he said. Tears were running down Zack's face by now. Cloud bit his lip.

'Then I will give them to her myself in the early afternoon,' said Sephiroth firmly. 'After I have taken care of some personal affairs.'

Kadaj made a guttural, irritated noise, turned on his heel and marched from the room. The door of Sephiroth's outer chamber slammed behind him.

Zack stumbled over to Sephiroth's bed, where he grabbed the footboard for support. Sephiroth still wasn't entirely sure what was funny, but he hoped Zack stopped laughing before he suffocated. He glanced curiously at Cloud. He was laughing too, probably at Zack.

Barely a minute later Aerith poked her head around the door. She looked terribly pale, Sephiroth noticed, and her eyes were puffy.

'Can we - Tifa! Tifa he's alright!' She sped into Sephiroth's room, dragging a thoroughly bemused Tifa in her wake and nearly slipping on what used to be an artful floral bouquet. Zack caught Aerith in his arms as she passed, apparently not as short-winded as he'd looked, and pulled her into a slightly giddy jig.

As they whirled away, Tifa slipped her hand from Aerith's and hurried over to Cloud's side of the bed. Cloud smiled at her in a way that Sephiroth supposed was meant to be reassuring. He looked too pale and too tired to pull it off, in Sephiroth's opinion, but maybe it was the thought that counted. He'd heard people say that.

He was alarmed - though Cloud didn't look surprised at all - when Tifa suddenly let out a strangled yell and tackled Cloud. They collided heavily with Sephiroth's shoulder, and only his greater bulk stopped them from rolling off the bed altogether. He steadied them with a hastily withdrawn hand at the small of Cloud's back. Cloud gave him an apologetic look. From the way Tifa's arms were locked around him, she wasn't planning on moving soon. Sephiroth wondered how much Aerith and Zack had explained to her. He wanted to say something reassuring, if only because it seemed the appropriate thing to do, but his tongue seemed to have stuck to the roof of his mouth. For reasons he couldn't understand, she made him nervous. He ran his thumb over the palm of Cloud's hand again. It gave him something to do.

Zack suddenly appeared - snuggled - at Sephiroth's shoulder, his celebratory dance over.

'What are you doing?' Sephiroth asked him.

'You're all hugging. I felt left out,' he ruffled Cloud's hair, shaking petals all over Sephiroth's lap. 'Strife. Glad to see you alive. And male.' Aerith shook out her skirts demurely and settled next to Tifa.

'He's been raving about it all night,' she said. 'It took him hours to get his head around it.'

'Not hours.'

'Hours.'

Sephiroth cleared his throat. 'Aerith, will you please heal Cloud's hand?'

Tifa jerked up. 'Cloud? Are you hurt? What happened?'

Aerith took Cloud's maimed hand from Sephiroth and cradled it. She rotated his wrist so that its palm faced her and bit thoughtfully at the inside of her cheek.

'There's flesh to re-grow,' she said, prodding at one of the wounds with infinite gentleness. 'I can heal you, but it'll take a while.' She looked up at Cloud, her brow furrowed. 'These are very clean cuts.'

'Yes,' Cloud nodded. He looked a little wretched. Aerith gave him a look (Sephiroth felt Zack tense: apparently Sephiroth needed to ask her advice on Zack-handling), but said nothing more. She closed her eyes and hummed under her breath. After a moment, a greenish light haloed her hands,

shadowing the movement of her fingers over Cloud's with a ghostly trail. Cloud and Tifa watched her work in fascination.

Zack prodded Sephiroth in the side.

'Talk,' he said. 'What exactly happened last night?'

So Sephiroth recounted what he remembered of the night, which was most of it. Cloud broke in at times, providing details such as Sephiroth breaking his ankle (Sephiroth hadn't realised the strength of his grip) and how he'd broken the vase (Aerith paused in her work to lament the fate of her flowers). Tifa squeaked when Cloud described Sephiroth attacking him, and Zack laughed when Sephiroth told how he'd fought back.

Both Sephiroth and Cloud hesitated when they came to how Cloud had fed Sephiroth. In hindsight, the act seemed somehow intimate to Sephiroth. He regularly told Zack about his various partners, but never with Aerith present, and certainly never in detail. He shared a glance with Cloud, who gave an uncomfortable little cough.

Eventually, though, they managed to stumble through an explanation. A very awkward silence followed.

'It, uh, seemed like a good idea,' said Cloud. 'I thought... a way around the curse... would, um...'

'Yeah. Yeah,' said Zack quickly. 'You've got to think fast at times like that.'

'It's better than dying,' said Tifa.

'Much better,' agreed Aerith.

They fell silent again, no one looking at anyone else. Sephiroth caught Cloud's eye. Zack cleared his throat.

'You realise,' he said. 'You two have to get married now.'

Cloud swung a pillow at him with his free hand.

'No, really,' said Zack doggedly. He gave Sephiroth a hard stare. 'What happens now?'

Sephiroth remained very still, watching Aerith finish re-growing the flesh on Cloud's fingertips. The correct thing to do would be to inform Jenova that Cloud was a man, that he and Lady Tifa had conspired together and insulted both the Queen and himself. The correct thing to do rankled: Tifa was justifiably frightened and Cloud was a very loyal, if possibly insane friend, and Jenova didn't take kindly to deception of any kind.

Sephiroth believed that they'd want to go home, and the moral thing to do would be to allow them to do so, even though it wouldn't change his situation any.

What Sephiroth wanted... He wasn't entirely sure. He was, however, quite certain that it didn't have much to do with morals.

'That... would depend on what Cloud and Lady Tifa want,' he said slowly. 'If they wish to return home, I will tell mother that the engagement is off.'

Cloud and Tifa looked at each other in silence. Tifa's brow furrowed. It seemed they had the same infuriating ability to communicate without words as Zack and Aerith. Sephiroth tried to tell himself, as he always did, that he wasn't envious.

'Tifa wants to go home,' said Cloud.

'All done,' said Aerith. She gave Cloud's newly healed fingertips a gentle squeeze. 'Let me see your ankle.'

'No thank you,' said Cloud. 'I've already troubled you -'

'That wasn't a request,' said Aerith sweetly.

'Don't argue with her,' warned Zack. 'She hits pretty hard.'

Aerith tugged Cloud's injured leg into her lap. Sephiroth knew from bitter experience that she'd merrily twist his leg to an uncomfortable (but not quite painful) angle if he didn't cooperate, so he helped her by pulling Cloud around so that his leg was straight. Aerith made an approving little noise and set to work.

'What do you want to do?' he asked quietly. Zack leaned on his shoulder, and Sephiroth couldn't help imagining a hunting dog with its ears pricked forward. Cloud craned his neck, the better to look at him. 'You said that Lady Tifa wants to go home,' he said. 'What do you want?'

'I...' Cloud frowned minutely. 'If I leave, what'll happen?'

'I suppose,' said Sephiroth 'that mother will arrange another fiancée.' A nauseous thought.

Cloud pressed his lips into a line. 'Will she have to... uh, do the same as me?'

'I'd expect so.'

'Then I want to stay,' said Cloud firmly. Sephiroth felt Zack tense at his shoulder. He looked at him and saw a terribly familiar expression on his face. Zack was getting ideas.

Tifa grabbed Cloud's hands. She didn't say anything, though she looked as though she wanted to.

'You'll have to pretend to be Lady Tifa,' said Sephiroth.

Zack prodded him, hard, just beneath his ribs.

'Stop trying to get him to leave,' he hissed.

'I don't mind,' said Cloud. Zack began to chuckle. 'I didn't mean... damn it.'

'That's alright,' said Aerith. She pushed Cloud's healed ankle from her lap and gave his knee an encouraging pat. 'Our clothes are much nicer than yours.'

Cloud groaned.

'That robe francaise really emphasises those sexy curves of yours,' added Zack. He grinned wickedly. 'And,' he drew the word out in a sing-song voice 'it provides easy access to more interesting areas -'

'Zackary, get out of my chambers,' said Sephiroth.

As he washed and dressed an hour or so later, Sephiroth considered what he'd tell Jenova. He didn't understand her intentions at all. A test of a royal bride's worthiness? He'd never heard of such a thing. Especially a test so likely to kill the unfortunate woman. Why, when she was the one to insist upon his engagement, would Jenova try to kill his fiancée? And why so indirectly? Making him into the assassin when she knew how he hated the fucking curse... why? He shook his head; he was too tired today to fathom the Stygian depths of his mother's mind. He splashed a little cold water on his face before he left the en suite and walked to the parlour.

Zack waited for him, feet propped on the coffee table, no doubt regaling Cloud, Aerith and Tifa with his seemingly endless supply of ridiculous stories and bawdy jokes. Sephiroth had agreed to let him come to his audience with the Queen, after he'd promised to behave.

Zack had had to promise twice: Sephiroth remembered the last time Zack came with him to make a report to Jenova. Loz's eyebrows had grown back eventually, but he still shuddered at the sight of a pot of fondue. In the end, Sephiroth only agreed to let him come this time because he was too tired to argue.

...And he was rather hoping that Zack would make something explode within fifteen minutes and give him an excuse to leave early. If he managed to singe Kadaj's hair in the process, so much the better.

Not that Sephiroth would ever admit that, of course.

Zack jumped to his feet, far more enthusiastically than Sephiroth could've managed given the situation. Perhaps he already some mayhem planned.

One can only hope.

'Let's get it over with,' Zack said. 'I'm hungry.'

'You could stay here,' said Sephiroth. He nodded, mostly to Cloud. 'I'll have something sent up. You should rest.'

Zack snorted and shoved Sephiroth toward the door. 'I've already talked to them, Daddy-bear, and they've promised to eat and sleep and not leave like good girls and boy.' He gave one last especially forceful shove and closed the door behind them. Sephiroth put up with the manhandling with as much dignity as he was able.

Once out in the corridor, Zack fell uncharacteristically silent. At least until they'd rounded the nearest corner, anyway.

'So,' he said. 'Cloud. What do you think?'

Sephiroth had been expecting this. He was actually surprised it had taken Zack so long.

'He's attractive,' he said. And remarkable.

'Just that?' Zack blew a soft raspberry of disapproval. 'I was hoping for something more like... "oh, he's fed me his fingers and stolen my heart". Attractive is what you said about that stable hand last month and that little liaison only lasted twelve hours.'

'Cloud has slimmer hands,' said Sephiroth absently. They passed a rather ferrety looking official heading in the opposite direction. He bowed low to Sephiroth, who nodded curtly in return.

'You're impressed,' said Zack. He made a gesture at the official's retreating back. He didn't like being snubbed. 'I can tell.' He gave Sephiroth a significant look, and received the blankest face in Sephiroth's repertoire in return.

'Fine, be boring,' Zack sniffed.

The heavy doors to Jenova's chambers were just ahead now, closed as always, a guard at either side. Guarding the Queen's chamber was supposed to be a great honour, but Sephiroth usually assigned it to officers who annoyed him. It was terribly boring, and left one in the firing line of one of the royal family's frequent tantrums.

'That, Zackary, may well be the problem,' Sephiroth muttered. He ignored the guards and pushed open the doors to his mother's chambers. Zack had to pause on the threshold for a moment, while his eyes adjusted to the darkness, then he fell into step behind Sephiroth.

Jenova sat where she had the day before, in one of those uncomfortable chairs. Sephiroth could remember having sat opposite her as a boy, his toes barely scraping the floor and his spine aching while she lectured him. It took him longer than he was willing to admit to work out that Jenova's chair had a nice fat cushion that let her carry on quite comfortably while her victim was left to writhe. He took his seat. Beside him, Zack sat rigidly. Not even Zack could relax in these chairs.

Behind Jenova, flickering like ghosts in the weird candlelight were Sephiroth's brothers, each with varying expressions of boredom. Yazoo wasn't even pretending: he'd brought a book, knowing from experience that their mother wouldn't let anyone touch her books. Loz had taken up a position by one of the heavily curtained windows, where he looked out through a narrow gap in the curtains. Only Kadaj seemed to be paying any attention. From his avid expression, he was dying to know what happened during the night.

Sephiroth didn't acknowledge them.

Jenova herself looked ... she looked exhausted. Sephiroth was somewhat taken aback: he'd never seen his mother in anything less than perfect health, or perfect poise. If Zack shared his surprise, he hid it almost as well as did Sephiroth himself. A twitch of one of his legs was the only hint he gave.

'Good morning, mother.'

Jenova inclined her head briefly. 'Sephiroth. And Viscount Fair.' She propped her chin on a curled fist, her lips twitched into a shadow of a smirk. In the gloom, Sephiroth could just make out the fine lines on her face, hidden beneath a heavy layer of powder. Zack murmured a response, which Jenova ignored, before she continued. 'Kadaj tells me that Lady Tifa survived the night. I must confess that I hadn't expected it of her.'

'Do you confess that you were trying to kill her?' muttered Zack. Sephiroth shot a warning glance at him.

Jenova smiled thinly. 'If I wanted the Lady dead, I have far more direct methods, Viscount. As I told Sephiroth yesterday, I merely worried that she might be less than worthy.'

'You needn't have worried, mother,' said Sephiroth. 'She is a remarkable woman.'

'I wonder,' said Jenova. She daintily covered a yawn with her free hand. 'I would like to know how she managed to survive.' She settled further back into her seat, chin still in hand, the very picture of idle curiosity.

Sephiroth knew better. He took a moment to shift slightly in his seat, crossed one leg over another and let his fingertips twitch on the arm of his chair.

'That is... personal,' he said. Behind the Queen, Kadaj raised his eyebrows.

'Oh?' Jenova smiled again. 'I do hope there won't be any scandals.'

The twitching fingers were a good touch, Sephiroth thought. He never twitched.

'I thought you preferred men,' said Kadaj. Jenova ignored him pointedly, but Sephiroth offered him a wry smile.

'Perhaps you misread your notes.'

'Children,' said Jenova. 'Sephiroth, won't you tell me what happened last night?' She gave him a soft-eyed look. 'You can tell mother, can't you, my darling?'

'There are some things a mother needn't know about her son,' said Sephiroth. 'Rest assured I have accepted the Lady Tifa as my fiancée.'

There was a long, cold moment before Jenova replied. 'I see.'

'If that was all, mother, Viscount Fair and I will take our leave.'

'One moment,' another pause while Jenova covered a yawn. 'I have yet to set your fiancée's second test.'

'I hardly think that's necessary.'

'I think it is,' Jenova said in an infuriatingly level tone. 'My feelings as a mother aside, this woman may well be the future queen.' She smoothed out her skirts. 'I want her to bring me a golden feather from the head of a phoenix.'

Sephiroth blinked.

'That's it?' said Zack. 'What do you want with that?'

'Phoenix feathers are both valuable and rare,' said Jenova. She was smiling in a way that unnerved Sephiroth. He couldn't think how this task was anything like being locked in with him. Phoenix were rare, certainly, but not exactly dangerous. No more so than any other large bird, at any rate. There had to be something else to this task. Maybe she expected the bird to peck Cloud to death when he plucked its feather? 'I want it before the dark of the moon. Now,' she yawned again 'you may leave.'

'She could've just said she wants it next week,' said Zack. He and Sephiroth had told Cloud, Aerith and Tifa about their brief meeting with Jenova over a late breakfast. Zack stared into the remains of his coffee. 'I don't think the dramatic airs were necessary.'

'It sounds easy enough,' said Tifa. While Sephiroth and Zack were gone, she'd sent for her luggage and was going through it to find another gown for Cloud.

Cloud didn't look especially enthused at the prospect.

'Are there any phoenix living nearby?' he asked. He sat beside Sephiroth on the couch nearest the fire. Tifa and Aerith had bullied him into stripping off the ruined gown and wrapped him in Sephiroth's robe. He'd rolled the sleeves up twice and retreated grimly to the couch to stay out of their way. 'Maybe she's hoping I'll take too long or get lost.'

Sephiroth's knowledge of local fauna was formidable, but he couldn't remember ever having seen any phoenix. From what he understood of the elusive birds, they preferred warm, dry climates over temperate.

'I don't believe so,' he said, glancing at Zack, who shrugged.

'There was a rumour about one nesting somewhere on the south coast,' Zack said. 'Lieutenant Lowery swore he'd seen it up close.' He took a sip of the last of the cold coffee and made a face. 'He was a bit mad, though. A little too fond of the whiskey.'

'So the only phoenix on this continent is probably a hallucination,' sighed Aerith. 'At least she's not trying to kill you this time.'

'You could just get a chicken feather and paint it,' said Zack. 'Except that it won't work if she actually wants to use the feather for anything.'

'Phoenix feathers tend not to be decorative.' Sephiroth watched Tifa critically examine a gown in embroidered pale green silk and toss it aside dismissively. 'I imagine mother has some use in mind for it.'

'Perhaps you could just buy one from a merchant?' Zack had abandoned his coffee and seemed to be looking for something to keep his hands busy. He moved a few crumbs on the serving tray around with his fingertips. 'Jenova never said it had to be Cloud that got the feather from the phoenix, just that he had to bring one to her.'

Cloud winced. 'I don't have that kind of money.' One of Tifa's gowns, this one in pale gold landed on his lap and he winced again.

'We could help, you know,' said Aerith. Cloud shook his head firmly and Tifa gave a long-suffering sigh.

'No, we couldn't. He's too proud,' she said.

'I doubt that would work, in any case,' said Sephiroth. 'Mother seems to have a knack for knowing when one is being dishonest.' Cloud and Tifa gave him a curious glance, and Zack looked delighted. 'I lied about breaking an ornament when I was a child. It wasn't the best idea I've ever had,' he told them grudgingly.

'What did she do to you?' asked Cloud.

Sephiroth shook his head repressively. 'It's not important.' He gave a rather vicious smirk. 'But I've learned to be a much better liar since.'

'And become twice as scary,' said Zack. 'He makes more officials piss themselves every week than she does. I've counted.'

'That's nice, Zack, but it won't help Cloud get that feather,' said Aerith.

A contemplative silence fell, broken only by the sound of the fire and the soft rustle of Tifa still sorting through the formidable wardrobe of a courtly lady. Every now and then, a gown, a bodice, an embroidered petticoat would sail in front of Sephiroth and settle over Cloud's lap. That blue one would look good, Sephiroth thought, and immediately pretended he hadn't.

'A menagerie,' said Zack suddenly. Sephiroth looked up at him, eyebrows raised.

'A menagerie,' he said. 'If anyone had a phoenix, we would have heard of it.'

'Maybe not,' argued Zack. 'What if a private collector had one?'

'Then they'd boast.'

'Not if they were crazy or reclusive,' Zack was beginning to bounce in his seat, a sure sign of danger. 'There's an elderly Count just outside Midgar. He was friends with my grandfather.' Zack bounced to his feet. 'Apparently he was always eccentric, then he went really weird after his wife died.'

'Why would he have -'

'I'm getting to that! See, his wife died giving birth to their son, and the old guy put everything into raising him. Spoiled him rotten. He even built a menagerie, just for him.' Zack grinned. 'I was told it was full of all the rarest specimens he could get his hands on.'

'Do you think he'd let us see them?' asked Aerith. Zack looked at her and seemed to deflate a little.

'I don't know. His son died in a war when he was nineteen. That twenty years ago. The old man might've sold off all the animals, or they've died. He might even be dead.' He flopped back onto the couch. Aerith took one of his hands and laced their fingers together.

'Could we go see anyway?' she asked. 'It couldn't hurt.'

'Tomorrow, then,' Zack brightened visibly. 'It's about half a day's ride from here.'

'What can the rest of us do?' asked Cloud. 'I don't think a crazy old man is going to appreciate having all of us turn up.'

Zack shrugged. 'You can't exactly go wandering around the city on your own.' Sephiroth watched Cloud bristle out of the corner of his eye. He laid a hand a placating hand on his shoulder.

'Unfortunately my dear younger brother keeps a close watch on who comes and goes from my apartments. If you left as a man, he would wonder when you arrived, and if you left as a woman, he would no doubt follow you. Either way, it would be troublesome.'

Cloud slouched back into the couch, scowling. Another of Tifa's gowns landed in his lap. His scowl deepened.

'I can have some enquiries made locally,' said Sephiroth. 'Perhaps among the lower classes as well.'

'Who do you know in the lower classes?' asked Zack. 'You don't mix.'

'Christopher,' said Sephiroth. Zack thought for a moment, before recognition blossomed across his face.

'The one you were with last Easter,' he said. 'I didn't realise you were still on speaking terms.'

'Christopher was only interested in play, there were no ill feelings between us.'

'Play...?' Tifa repeated curiously. Cloud, apparently having led a less sheltered life, blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly.

'I'll tell you about it later,' Aerith said kindly. Sephiroth raised his eyebrows at Zack, who met his gaze evenly. It was hardly a surprise to Sephiroth that he'd told Aerith everything.

Cloud coughed again. 'So, this... friend of yours can ask around. What else? Would there be anything in a book somewhere?'

'Perhaps,' Sephiroth tried to keep the doubt out of his voice. Doing nothing would grate on him as well. 'We can search the Library tomorrow, if you're so inclined.'

The rest of the day passed in a kind of daze for Sephiroth, though he was certain he hid it well enough. He was still tired from the night before, and he knew Cloud would be as well. Every now and again, he'd catch him nodding out of the corner of his eye. Tifa eventually finished sorting through her clothes, lamented not having nearly enough and their less-than-perfect fit, and Aerith promised they'd search her wardrobe later. Zack, to his credit, only laughed for a minute or so, and not too loudly. Perhaps he was tired too. Sephiroth doubted any of them had slept much the previous night. That was why Zack and Aerith, with Tifa in tow, left earlier than they usually might have that afternoon.

Left alone, Sephiroth and Cloud lapsed into silence for several minutes. The strange thing, at least from Sephiroth's point of view, was that it was a far more companionable silence than that morning. Perhaps nearly killing each other was some kind of exercise in human bonding? An upbringing with a mother as cold as Jenova tended to leave Sephiroth somewhat confused in such matters.

He did, however, understand etiquette.

'Are you tired?' Sephiroth asked. 'You can have the bed. I'll sleep out here.'

He knew Cloud would argue and wasn't disappointed. 'No, I'm used to sleeping rough. I'll take the floor.'

'You're my guest.'

'I'll fight you for it.'

Sephiroth smiled before he could stop himself. 'I'd win.'

As Cloud opened his mouth to retort, someone knocked politely at the door: he quickly assumed an attitude of demure femininity. At a word from Sephiroth, a small parade of maids entered, carrying a pallet, pillows and an armful of blankets between them. To Sephiroth's irritation, Kadaj followed in their wake, a satisfied half smile curling his lips.

'Are you moving out?' Sephiroth asked, as if he'd ever be so lucky.

'Hardly,' Kadaj sat, without waiting for an invitation (he'd never receive one), on the vacant couch as the maids scurried to and fro, setting up the pallet in an empty corner close to the fireplace. 'Mother has given your and your fiancée's ... indiscretion due consideration and decided that you need a chaperone.'

Cloud blushed and twisted his hands in his lap.

'If mother is worried about Lady Tifa's reputation, she should not have forced her to spend a night in my room,' said Sephiroth. 'Get out.'

'Mother's orders outweigh yours,' retorted Kadaj. His eyes shone gleefully.

'Then you'll sleep in the antechamber,' Sephiroth said. He stood abruptly and offered a hand to Cloud. 'We will see you in the morning.'

With that, he ushered Cloud ahead of him into his bedroom, and slammed the door behind him.

Alone in Viscount Fair's guestroom, Tifa remembered the gift from Cloud's mother. It'd slipped her mind the night before, but now...

She took the cherry wood box from the bottom of her trunk, and sat with it on the end of her bed, admiring the way it fit in the palm of her hand. The carvings were so intricate, detailed with patterns so very delicate - perhaps she should return it to Cloud's mother when she got home? It had to be valuable, and the Strifes weren't wealthy. Accepting a gift like the little box would be selfish of her, she thought, especially seeing as she wasn't getting married any more.

Perhaps she should give the box to Cloud? Tifa shook her head. Aerith had explained the Prince's... tastes earlier in the evening. Tifa wasn't entirely sure what she thought. Two men romantically, sexually (she blushed crimson in the dim light of her room) was... it wasn't right, was it? And when one of them was Cloud, Cloud, the little boy with the too-serious stare who never seemed intimidated by her rank. The witchling, her best friend. It was all too strange for Tifa.

She stroked the lacquered patterns of the box with her fingertips. It nestled in the palm of one cupped hand like a little bird. She'd have to ask Mistress Strife what was inside.

But...

What harm could looking bring? She was alone, after all, and the box was originally for her.

Tifa licked her lips and carefully opened the lid of the box.

She didn't notice how the shadows in the corner of the room leaned in closer.