Author Note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed last chapter. If I didn't respond, it was not because I didn't appreciate your input!
And to all you folks who followed: remember, even a small review equals love. Once again, thanks to my ace betas licoriceallsorts and La Editor, who rock.
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The phone rang while he was filling out paperwork.
"Rufus," he droned.
"It's Reeve."
"Good afternoon, Reeve." Rufus put down the pen and cracked his knuckles. "What do you need?"
"I have something to discuss with you. Something highly confidential."
Had Rufus not already known the matter which Reeve wanted to discuss, his interest would have sparked. However, unless someone had blown something up or someone had been assassinated in the past five minutes, Rufus felt certain he already knew. "Go on."
"I'll be in your office in five."
"By all means." With a click, Rufus shut his phone and continued scribbling. A little under three minutes later, having navigated his way to Rufus's office over two elevators and several different hall changes, Reeve arrived.
He entered, harried as usual.
"Have a seat," Rufus said, and gestured to the large, comfortable chair in front of his desk. Reeve sat, smoothing his hands over his pants and the front of his jacket. Over the years, Reeve had become less and less visibly anxious in Rufus's presence, until the small bodily clues and the vocal hesitations had disappeared completely. Rufus had not detected them for a long, long time. Now, though, he seemed to be reverting to old habits. Seemed being the key word.
"What was it you wanted to discuss with me, Reeve?"
Reeve looked down at his hands, a good attempt. "Lord Godo Kisaragi is on his deathbed."
Rufus lifted his silvery eyebrows. "Oh? I had heard from my sources that he was ill, but I did not know it had progressed that far."
Reeve looked up sharply at the word "sources," but when Rufus only gifted him with a small smile in reply, he frowned.
"So Lord Godo is on his deathbed. Does this mean his young heir will be taking the throne in his place?"
Reeve released a frustrated sigh. "She has to marry first."
"Wuteng law must be holding her back."
"You know?"
"I studied Wuteng culture and law extensively after Shinra defeated them in the war." He shrugged. "In order to repair relations with them later, I knew I would need to be well-versed in their customs."
"Ah." Reeve nodded once. He stared at his hands, to all appearances organizing his thoughts.
"And how did you come by this information?" Rufus prompted after a moment.
"Yuffie called me. As you know, she works a lot with the WRO. We're close friends. When she told me she needed to marry someone of Wuteng descent in order to keep her country, I offered myself."
"You are an honorable man," Rufus said, and Reeve could not be certain of Rufus's tone, which was, perhaps, a hint of condescension disguised as sincerity. Reeve could never read the President by his facial expressions, but years of studying the younger man's actions had given him some insight into the workings of his mind.
"Thank you," Reeve finally said. He suppressed the natural urge to narrow his eyes, as dealings with Rufus were a careful dance. "However, I can't marry Yuffie. I am Wuteng through my mother's side of the family. Wutai is patriarchal by law, as you apparently well know. Vincent Valentine also seemed like an option, but I discovered we're faced with the same problem when I researched his family tree."
"This is unfortunate. It would have been convenient for Princess Kisaragi if she had found someone close to her, someone trustworthy to marry." Rufus tapped a finger on his lips, making an admirable attempt to appear genuinely concerned. "But why are you telling me this?"
"Because I have found someone eligible to be Yuffie's co-ruler."
Rufus's eyes gleamed. He had an inkling of where Reeve was going with this. At his prompting gesture, Reeve continued. "I discovered that Tseng is of Wuteng descent on both his mother's and his father's side."
.
"You can't be serious, Yuffie!" Tifa exclaimed when she finally parsed the Wuteng characters on the fraying scroll. "Does this say what I think it says, and if it does, what's wrong with you?" She felt for Yuffie, she really did, but disbelief and even a little bit of anger stiffened her.
"I dunno, Tifa. I'm starting to think it could be a good idea. Plus, he's royalty. That's gonna make things a lot easier." Instead of focusing on Tifa, Yuffie dug into her food with relish. "Less paperwork, less people to please." A bit of reddish sauce dripped down Yuffie's chin, but she ignored it and went on sucking down her meal.
"He's… royalty?" Tifa questioned, eyebrows arched in surprise.
"Bastard royalty, if you wanna get technical."
Tifa frowned. "But what does that mean?"
"Means he's kind of royalty, but he's, like, the illegitimate bastard grandchild of some daddy who went outside of marriage."
"Wait, how would you even know that?"
"Oh, Wutai keeps records of bastard children." Yuffie grinned through a mouthful of rice. Tifa had the urge to smack her. Take something seriously, for once, she mentally pleaded. But she knew, despite appearances, that Yuffie wanted to handle this with the utmost care. Flippancy had become second nature for the ninja, even more so now in the face of her father's wasting death. "Besides that, you ever wonder what that mark on his forehead's all about? Symbol of a bastard child."
"Why?"
"Old tradition. If the legitimate kiddies die, we gotta know who the cousin of so-and-so who begot so-and-so who is actually of royal and commoner blood is so they can rule."
Tifa was really starting to get the hang of chopsticks after five days in Wutai. "But Yuffie, he's a Turk," she said with slight disgust, mentally chastising herself. The Turks had done a lot for them since Meteor, straddling the line between what Tifa considered ethically appropriate and morally reprehensible.
"An ex-Turk," Yuffie said, the pitch of her voice cranking up a notch in defense. "They don't... do that... anymore." She didn't sound convinced, her eyes unfocused. Then she shrugged and turned back to her plump, steamy dumplings.
"Please tell me you don't actually believe that they're not doing the whole Turk thing these days." Knowing the rudeness of the gesture, Tifa stabbed her chopsticks toward Yuffie anyway.
"I know, I know," Yuffie sighed. "But I'm warming up to the idea."
Tifa narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.
"Okay, maybe not 'warming up,' but the more I think about it, the more promising it seems."
"Have you forgotten how he treated Aeris?"
"No," she said, suddenly shame-faced—an interesting dynamic with her cheeks puffed like a chipmunk's. "I didn't forget that."
Yuffie hadn't been around for Tseng kidnapping and slapping Aeris, but Tifa told her about it after seeing him at death's door in the Temple of the Ancients. Yuffie had expressed some concern for the man afterward, and Tifa delivered the story to correct any notions of sympathy.
Tseng might not have been directly responsible for Aeris' death, but he was part of the Shinra—and Tifa knew his betrayal hurt Aeris deeply. Even as an oblivious sixteen-year-old, Yuffie hadn't failed to notice each time they encountered Tseng and fended him off on their journey, Aeris had been somewhat pensive and reserved for the entire day following. The only time she asked in her own blunt way what was up with that guy, Tifa took her aside and explained that they were not to bring up Tseng to Aeris again.
Now, he served as another reminder of the woman AVALANCHE had lost and mourned. With the two remaining female members staring at each other across the table, Tifa felt the missing point of their triangle sharply.
Tifa studied her younger friend and wondered how Aeris might feel about the situation. As she had for many years when it came time to make an important decision, she put herself in the flower girl's considerable shoes. She knew she could never live up to Aeris' legacy and had stopped beating herself up for it long ago. She also knew that if her friend saw Yuffie's genuine contrition and pain over the decision now, she would forgive her.
After a long, stiff pause, Tifa decided to change the subject for Yuffie's sake. "Isn't he considered a huge traitor to your country?"
"Ah, yeah, about that. I think it could be a good political move. You know, mending old bridges and—"
"There are bridges to mend with Shinra? I mean, they're not ashes in the river by now? And besides that, how old is he, Yuffie? He must be twice your age!"
Yuffie swallowed loudly. Tifa winced. "Actually," she said, "it's fairly common for younger women to marry older men, especially when it comes to royal matrimony. And maybe this way, he'll be really decrepit and I won't have to worry about him trying to sweep me off my feet. If he tries, he'll break a hip."
Tifa sighed the loudest, most-lung-straining sigh she thought she had ever sighed. "I can't tell you what to do, but please think hard about this, okay? How in the heck are you gonna go about asking him? Just like, 'Oh, yeah, Tseng, by the way, how would you feel about becoming the Emperor of the country you betrayed?' C'mon, Yuff."
"Oh, Reeve's handling it," she said, finally, finally wiping the sauce off her face.
"Handling it?"
"Rufus will be hearing from him right about now."
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"Why are you asking me about this, Reeve? The decision is, ultimately, Tseng's."
"I know that," Reeve said, frowning. So he wanted to play the game this way, did he? Reeve didn't like it when Rufus played dumb.
"Then you don't need my permission. I'm not his father."
"No, but I need your help."
"How so?"
"Tseng won't do it unless you ask him."
"Why do you say that?"
Reeve's eyes glinted like a cat's. "Everyone knows his true loyalties are to you, Rufus."
"So then find someone else."
Reeve straightened his tie and said matter-of-factly, "You know it's not that simple. I want Yuffie with someone relatively safe, someone who's not going to interfere in her running the country, who's going to treat her like a human being. Practices in Wutai aren't exactly modern when it comes to women. If she marries some fallen son of royalty she doesn't know, for all we know he could take over the country and use her as nothing more than a broodmare."
Rufus raised his eyebrows at Reeve's fervor. He knew the head of the WRO cared very much for the Princess of Wutai. This was important to Reeve. He would not have come to Rufus and put himself in such a subordinate position otherwise.
"So she needs someone to use as a figurehead."
After a short pause, Reeve cleared his throat and said, "Yes."
"What makes you think Tseng will be controlled in this way? What makes you think he won't do the same as 'some fallen son of royalty'?"
"You know him better than I do, Rufus. Would he do the same?"
Rufus shook his head. "No. I don't know why you think he can be trusted, though."
"I don't. But I do trust Yuffie. She's competent, and I think he's better than the unknown."
Rufus smiled his slow shark grin. Reeve did not retreat. He merely stared back with half-lidded eyes, accustomed to Rufus's tricks.
"I'll ask him, Reeve. I can't make any guarantees. As I said, it is ultimately his decision."
Reeve nodded and rose from his chair. "Keep me updated."
Rufus hummed in agreement and picked up his pen, a clear dismissal. The solid oak door closed with a snick behind Reeve, and Rufus picked up the phone with a little more speed than usual. He punched the number seven and the star key and ordered his pretty, vapid secretary to patch him through to Tseng.
He had been waiting for something like this, an opportunity like this, since beginning the World Regenesis Poject, and here it was, fallen into his lap like the winning lottery ticket to a starving man.
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"Yuffie speaking."
"Princess Kisaragi." Rufus Shinra's voice smoothed over her ears, velvety even through her cell phone's paltry speakers.
"Rufus," Yuffie said, voice cheerful but guarded. She knew what this call was about, she just didn't know if she'd like it. At the ex-president's name, Tifa's focus zeroed in on Yuffie.
"I understand you are in the market for a husband."
"Yes."
"I understand you're interested in one of my subordinates for your potential co-ruler."
"Yes." She wished he would cut to the chase. Her nails really couldn't take much more nervous abuse.
"Luckily for you, I have availed him of your situation, and he hasn't refused."
"But he hasn't accepted, either."
"Tseng would like to meet with you."
"When?"
"As soon as possible."
"Is tomorrow at three soon enough for him?"
"I'm sure that will be fine. Tomorrow, then."
"Tomorrow."
Click.
.
Yuffie drummed her nails on the conference table. This room, on the same wing of the palace as the entrance hall and the dining room, had been furnished for business. The meeting important people and negotiation type of business, in point of fact. A long, dark wood table occupied the center of the room, surrounded by eleven high-backed chairs. Yuffie's chair was slightly bigger than all the rest and had been positioned at the head of the table—subtle.
Lush embroidered curtains done in dark greens shaded the tall windows and cast the light in slightly shadowed tones.
The rat-tat-tat-tat noise of her tapping the table seemed muffled, as the ragged ends of her nails didn't quite connect with the varnished wood. She was early, and she expected Rufus Shinra to arrive exactly on time, even if he had to travel by airship. Sure enough, at 2:59, a gaggle of guards and Turks alike escorted Rufus in.
She rose and nodded. Rufus, for his part, actually gave her a short, respectful bow. His mocking smile took a lot of the meaning out of it, however. Reno grinned wolfishly at her, and she rolled her eyes at him. Rude nodded. Her guards filled the space behind her, ready to jump to her aid at any sign of trouble.
The man of the hour stepped in last. The back guard closed the door behind them all. The sound of it cranked Yuffie's insides like a nature-made anxiety machine.
Yuffie suddenly could not recall what she had expected when she looked upon his face in person, but she knew that he defied her previous imaginings. She had seen Tseng once, in the Temple of the Ancients long ago, dragging himself away from death's door by his splintered fingernails. Now he looked completely different. He had healed, the only outward evidence of his ordeals being a small silvery scar beginning at the top of his forehead and trailing into his hairline.
His eyes had a slight slant, an almond shape, but seemed completely black, flat—neither deep nor shallow, just opaque. Her gaze lingered on his bindi, then traced over his mouth, down his neck, across his entire imposing physique. He seemed... impenetrable. Her study took place for just a second before she redirected her mind to the task at hand.
The Single White Rose of Wutai stared across the endless chasm between herself and her country's bitterest defeat. Faced with this, she cleared her throat. "Hey, Rufus. Thanks for coming. And… thank you for coming, Tseng." She looked into his impassive eyes for the first time since he had entered. He only nodded.
Yuffie sat at the elaborate conference table, then gestured that they do so as well. Rufus chose a chair, but his Turks remained standing against the back wall, near the door. Hidden under the table, Yuffie's right foot tapped. This movement was the only outward sign of her nerves.
"Welcome to Wutai," she said into the silence. Tough crowd.
Rufus replied with a charming smile. "Your highness, thank you for having us in your beautiful home."
Yuffie nodded. "It's my pleasure, Rufus." A beat. "Let's get down to business, then."
She had no doubt Rufus or, more likely, one of the Turks, had been wired in order to tape this conversation for later perusal. If she played her cards right, it wouldn't matter. He'd be on her side. Besides, she knew a digital recorder of her own was taped to the underside of the table.
"What I am about to reveal to you is highly sensitive information. I must have your secrecy in this matter."
"You have my word, Miss Kisaragi."
A lifted eyebrow was her only reply. He smirked again. "My dad's dying, Rufus."
No surprise flowered on his face. No eyelashes batted. "How unfortunate. Is there nothing that can be done for him?"
"We have our highest medical staff on the job. It doesn't look good. As his only heir, the throne would logically be left to me." Yuffie tried, with all her might, not to stare openly at Tseng in order to gauge all his reactions to her words.
"Logically."
"But I must be married to a man of at least half Wuteng descent in order to legally possess the throne."
"Oh?" Rufus's eyebrows rose. "Have you spoken to Reeve? His mother was Wuteng."
Yuffie was already tired of playing this game. "All right, Rufus, let's cut the shit. I know you already know all this."
"I have been privy to some of this information, yes." She could swear she saw Reno's shoulders twitch before Rude slapped a hand on his partner's back. The redhead coughed.
"You already know everything. Figures Reeve can't keep his goddamn mouth shut."
"If I may, your highness, he was speaking on your behalf."
"Yeah, yeah. The man's got a heart of gold. Too bad he didn't get it from a Wuteng daddy, 'cause it doesn't do me any good." Reno's face would match his hair if he tried to suppress his laughter any harder.
"He would make quite the political ally."
"Rufus."
"Yes?"
"Why am I talking to you and not Tseng?" Yuffie leaned forward onto her elbows, placed her head into her hands. Rufus's guards shifted at the movement. She beamed at them.
Rufus' mouth quirked in amusement. "That is a very good question, Princess. Tseng?"
He stepped forward, his dress shoes clicking a little on the marble floor. He had yet to react to any of this. Yuffie thought Rufus was tough to read, but she had a feeling Tseng would be even worse. "President, sir." His voice was rich but emotionless.
Yuffie settled her gaze on him, thoughtful. "You interested in ruling a country?"
"No." His sharp eyes did not waver from her face, and her foot finally stilled. She tried not to squirm, and to her relief, succeeded.
"Not even a little?"
"No."
"Not even an eensy weensy bit?"
"Not in the least." He had arched an eyebrow by this point.
"Good. Because you won't be. You'll be a figurehead while I change things up around here. You will, for the most part, do as you please while I take care of business."
"For the most part?" His other eyebrow joined the first.
"Of course you can't go streaking through the streets with your pants on your head shouting about how your grandfather was a silly chocobo, but most other things should be fine. Gotta keep up appearances."
This: the ultimate test. Could he withstand her nonsequitors?
He didn't even nod. He just stared at her.
"You can make a note about that being off-limits." Not even a snicker. Holy crap. A real stiff. He blinked quickly. Yuffie could almost describe his blinks as efficient.
"When would the wedding be?"
"Three days from the day you agree."
"Why did you choose me?"
"Because."
Silence. She stared at her stubby fingernails, sighed. She wished he would sit. She was sitting. Rufus was even sitting. Why couldn't they all just sit?
"Because you're better than the alternative. Because you have to be worth something if you've worked for Rufus this long. Because I need a quick mind, and you've got one."
He pinned her with his eyes and held her there for a long, tense moment. She felt skinned on the spot, as if he were searching through her innards for even the slightest grain of falsity.
"There's something else," he finally said.
She tensed even further. Well, time to get it over with—the secret, revealed finally. So far, the list of people who knew was limited to the Mighty Gods and the physician who had discovered it.
"There is," she confirmed. "I'm going to tell you, up front, before you get into something even more dangerous than you thought." She took a deep, steadying breath and braced her hands on her knees underneath the table. The words came up like acid burning her throat. "My father isn't just sick. He's experiencing the effects of a slow-acting poison."
The room was silent, like everyone was holding their breath at the same time. After a short pause which felt like an eternity, she continued. "We have no idea who's responsible, and there is no known antidote. I want you to know," she said, looking Tseng in the eyes once more, instead of somewhere past his shoulder, "that I intend to find the person who did this to my father, and if you marry me, your help in discovering the perpetrator would be invaluable."
In spite of anything she might have expected, Tseng simply said, "Allow me one night to consider your offer."
She almost gaped but managed to restrain herself at the last minute. She took another steadying breath and said, "You will stay in the palace as my guests." She stood and bowed, keeping eye contact the whole way down. "Wutai is honored to have you."
"When'd you get so fancy, Princess?" Reno grinned, and her guards shifted. He had a reputation for being the rowdy, unpredictable one, and her Wuteng guards didn't take well to Shinra. Definite unease as soon as he spoke. The corners of his mouth curled at their uncomfortable movements.
She gave him a level look, and his smile faded. "Let me show you to your rooms."
.
Yuffie had no illusions that the Shinra Brigade were sitting quietly in their separate rooms playing tiddlywinks and turning in for an early night. She needed a drink, though, and her certainty that the ex-Turks were snooping around did not dissuade her from a trek to the liquor room. Finding Reno, Rude, and Elena already there did not inspire a bit of surprise in her.
"Don't mind me, just gonna go drink myself quietly to sleep."
No guards hovered at the door or the edges of the room. Usually, she only needed to dismiss them, but they were acting kooky with former Shinra personnel in the palace. She had had to evade them by navigating the air vents (something she had gotten good at around age seven). Half of her wanted to know how the Terrible Trio had escaped the guards' paranoia, and another half didn't want to bother.
She gravitated to her favorite brand of wine from Kalm and poured a generous glass. "Hey," Reno said.
She cocked an ear toward him. "Yeah?"
"You sure about this?"
Surprised, she hid her expression as she sipped. "I don't exactly have a choice anymore."
"So the old man's done for? Hey!" Reno shoved Elena in the shoulder, retaliating to her elbow in his back.
Yuffie stared at the ceiling, swirled her wine. She swallowed a few times, blinked, looked sideways at him. "We're doing everything we can. He's not getting better."
Elena, blue eyes crinkled with concern, asked, "How long?"
"A few days? A week, maybe?"
"So you gotta get married right away, then." Reno browsed through her scotches, eyes shrewd. "This a good brand?"
"Nope, that's shit. Do you like scotch? Try McCutcheon."
He pulled the bottle and poured a glass like he was right at home. "Didn't know you were a drinker."
"Your dad dying can do that to you."
He sipped, and Yuffie saw what she thought was a flash of genuine bliss on Reno's face. "Yeah."
Elena stepped in front of Reno, closer to Yuffie, her hand skimming the myriad bottles in the shelves. The low light reflected "Yuffie, Tseng is a good man."
Reno snorted, and Rude looked at her. Yuffie could only tell the latter by the way Rude's head turned a fraction to the right. The light gleamed off his skull, and she almost laughed. More wine was in order.
Elena scowled at them. "Stop it. He is."
"Sure he is. By our standards." Reno poured another dram.
Elena twirled a lock of hair around her index finger. She had a small mole on the left side her throat, and Yuffie found herself fixated on it. "I don't think her standards are too far from ours."
Rude hummed. "Be careful, Laney." Yuffie jumped, trying to recall when she'd last heard Rude speak. A long time ago.
"Hush. I'm trying to help them both."
This conversation had shifted from surprising to surreal.
Elena was so close she was almost in Yuffie's face at this point. "Listen to me. Tseng is a good man. He's loyal, and when you've earned his trust, he'll do a lot for you." She paused for a moment, face reddening. "Almost anything."
Reno snickered, and then Yuffie understood. Elena loved Tseng. She wondered if Tseng loved Elena. If he did, why would he even consider marrying her?
"Elena, I'm sor—"
She held up a hand. "Don't. Tseng and I didn't work out. Just listen."
Yuffie nodded. Elena's throat convulsed with a hard swallow. Yuffie realized how valuable this conversation was, this peek into the workings of four ex-Turks, Rufus's right hand even after the destruction of his energy empire.
"Tseng will take care of you."
"This is a lot of talk about something that might not even happen."
In response, Elena stared hard into Yuffie's eyes, searching. "Tseng will take care of you. If he agrees." She leaned, her mouth almost brushing Yuffie's earlobe. "But you have to take care of Tseng. Or I'll hurt you. Okay?"
Yuffie wasn't sure if Reno and Rude had heard the threat. Rude had his eyes on a point behind her, and the redhead seemed to be smiling at no one in particular. She felt a bubble of dread at his curled lips and at Elena's squeeze on her shoulder.
"If you crazy assholes will excuse me, I'm gonna go to bed."
She turned, took a few steps, then turned again when Reno called her name.
"You forgot your wine bottle."
He tossed her the Kalmish wine, and she grinned. "Thanks, Turkey. I'll snuggle it all night."
His laugh followed her down the hall.