[Fic] "Two Guys and a Girl," part 5 -- Final Fantasy 7 (Mercverse AU)
This story is set about ten years before main Mercverse canon, insofar as this AU can be said to have any canon. :-) So. "Two Guys and a Girl," in which I bend, staple, and otherwise mutilate normal game canon involving trips to Nibelheim, because seriously, what's the point of crack AUs if you can't play around like this?
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Two Guys and a Girl: Part 5
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Tifa pulled grass and weeds; Zack followed her, digging a shallow trench in the cleared path. When they had the pyre surrounded -- and after Tifa had fetched a second shovel from the shed and helped Zack widen the trench -- they went back to the kitchen to wash up and wait for Cloud to finish dealing with the basement.
"So how old is Cloud?" Tifa asked as she put a handful of loose leaf tea into an infusion ball and filled the kettle with cold water. "I mean, if he knew King Roland, he has to be at least fifty or sixty, but he only looks about twenty. Does he just age really slowly?"
Zack frowned. "I'm not telling you how old he is; that's his business. But he doesn't get older. I've known him for ten years now, and he always looks the same. Well, he grew his hair out for a few years while we were hanging around court -- it looks less messy when he can pull it back -- and his fingernails grow and stuff like that, but that's all."
"Weird," said Tifa. She set the kettle on the stove and sat down at the table, waiting for Cloud. They probably didn't have time for tea before dinner, not if they were walking into town, but this way everything was set up for when they got back.
"I guess it is," Zack agreed. "I never really thought about it -- he's just Cloud, and that's just how he is."
Tifa nodded. "Family's like that. Speaking of which, if Cloud's really old, is he your father? I thought he was your brother, but--"
"He adopted me," Zack interrupted, tipping his chair back so he was balanced precariously on two legs; he wobbled back and forth between the table and the wall. "He's my guardian, and I'm his heir -- which is the most pointless bit of legal nonsense ever -- but he's not my father. I don't have a father. And he's not my brother, either. He's just Cloud."
Tifa blinked. "Okay. Hey, if you're his heir, and he's Shinra, does that make you a lord?"
Zack flushed.
Tifa grinned. "It does! Ha! And my dad told me I shouldn't hang out with you -- I'll have to rub it in his face that he told me not to be friends with a lord. What's your title? Or Cloud's title, I guess -- what lands does he hold? Is he a duke? He's got royal blood, so he could be a duke... or maybe he's only a baron." A thought struck her, and she leaned forward over the table. "Is he the lord of Nibelheim? I always thought we didn't have a lord, because we don't pay any land or harvest tithes, but Cloud said he doesn't like the way things are set up, so maybe he is our lord and he just doesn't collect taxes?"
Zack tilted his chair back further and braced his hands against the wall behind his head. "I don't know! I never listened to the damn protocol tutors! But I'm pretty sure Cloud doesn't need tithes -- he's got a lot of savings and investments, and sometimes he goes off and does jobs for weird people. I think that pays well, but he never lets me come along."
"What kind of jobs?"
"Beats me," said Zack, and shrugged. "I think a lot of it's computer stuff, but sometimes he takes a sword and a bunch of guns, so I'm not sure. He told me once that he used to lead a mercenary group, a long, long time ago, so maybe he still works freelance. That'd be seriously cool. Of course, that means he probably isn't a merc, because life's never as cool as I hope it'll be." Zack sighed, sounding so weary and put-upon that Tifa couldn't help but laugh.
Zack promptly lunged across the table and tried to make her stop, which just made Tifa laugh harder. He pinned her to the floor. She bit him -- not hard, of course, but enough to make a point. He grabbed a dishtowel and tried to tie up her hands. She wriggled one free and shoved half-heartedly at him.
Tifa had just discovered that Zack was ticklish on the insides of his elbows -- he squirmed and turned pink at the tips of his ears -- when Cloud walked into the kitchen and stopped, looking bemused. "Zachary Strife," he said slowly. "Do I want to know what's going on here?"
"It's not what it looks like!" Zack said, letting go of the dishtowel and holding up his hands.
"Then you are engaging in rather idiosyncratic foreplay?" said Cloud, raising one eyebrow.
Tifa squeaked, and clapped her hands over her mouth. She could feel herself turning ten shades of purple with embarrassment.
Zack just groaned. "I swear, Cloud, you pick the weirdest times to have a sense of humor. Can we go now, before I die of embarrassment?" He glanced sideways, and added, "And be nicer to Tifa! She's not used to you, you jerk."
"Oh, right. My apologies, Miss Lockheart." Cloud swept her a deep, formal bow, and then offered his hand to help her stand up.
Tifa swore she was turning an eleventh shade of purple.
This time, Zack laughed.
Tifa threw the dishtowel at him.
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Summer days were long in Nibelheim; the sun seemed to linger near the jagged horizon for hours, gilding the snow-capped peaks and casting long shadows through the pines. As they walked into town, Tifa amused herself by playing a silent game of hopscotch with the shadows on the road -- if she stepped into a shadow with her left foot, she was safe, but if her right foot touched a dark patch of gravel, she had to touch Cloud or Zack within the next thirty seconds. If either one of them noticed, they were polite enough not to say anything.
The streets were mostly empty at this hour -- everyone was home for dinner, and the few visitors were already at the inn. Tifa caught a few people looking curiously out of their windows at the strangers walking through town with the mayor's daughter, but she raised her chin and ignored them.
Cloud seemed perfectly at home -- which made sense, if he'd grown up in Nibelheim. Even if he was really old, it wasn't like the town had ever changed much. Zack, on the other hand, kept looking around like something very obvious was missing.
"Half the houses have doors on the second floors," Zack said. "I didn't really notice earlier, but that's totally weird. What's the point of a door without a balcony or a staircase? I mean, if you're a demon and have wings, or if you're a mage and can summon winds, that's one thing, but you're mostly human here, right?"
"No demons, except some hunters passing through," Tifa agreed. "The doors are for midwinter, when the snow gets high -- people used to just let it pile up and move the street up a story. But that gets messy if there's a thaw, so a few hundred years ago we dug tunnels between all the houses, so we don't really have to go outside once the big storms hit."
"You can't seriously get that much snow," Zack said. "Cloud, she's making that up, right?"
Cloud shook his head. "No, she isn't. Nibel winters are fierce, and everything has to work around the weather. You see how all the roofs are slanted? That's so the snow will slide off instead of piling up and weighing down the houses. And you see how the walkways are grooved on the slopes, and those holes on the sides of the buildings? That's for when everything gets iced over, but when the snow isn't too deep -- the grooves provide traction, and the holes are where people fix guide rails so they have something to hang on to when the wind blows."
"Weird," Zack said. "Why not just use some fire spells and melt the snow?"
Tifa couldn't believe anyone didn't know this. "First of all, the water would freeze before it all drained away, so we'd just have really slick ice to deal with. Second, hot water flowing underneath a big field of snow is a very bad idea! Don't you know what an avalanche is?"
"A bunch of snow and rocks falling down a mountain," Zack said. "Are they really dangerous?"
"Yes!" Tifa and Cloud said together. "And don't take that as an invitation to find out for yourself," Cloud added. "You can't fight an avalanche, and you're not fast enough to outrun one either. Avalanches aren't a joke."
Zack held up his hands. "Okay, I get it -- watch out for avalanches, and don't melt all the snow. If I'm ever here in the winter, I'll make sure not to imitate you with the fire spells." Then he waved his hand toward the inn, which they had somehow reached without Tifa's notice. "By the way, I think we're here. Dinnertime!"
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The Nibelheim inn belonged to Marta Firth and her husband, Gunnar. They did a sporadic business hosting trappers and mine inspectors, but mostly they served alcohol and occasional meals to townspeople. This being summer, there was a small group of nature enthusiasts on a hiking tour of the mountains -- they noisily occupied a large table in the corner, though judging by their occasional wary glances toward the bar, Marta had already told them off for causing too much of a ruckus.
Marta gave Tifa, Zack, and Cloud a weighing stare as they walked through the door. "Your father's looking for you, Tifa Lockheart. Who are these folks?"
"Cloud and Zack Strife," Tifa said, pointing to indicate which name went with whom. "I told my dad about them already; he's just--"
"--just being a father," Marta finished, with a disapproving look. "Give the poor man some credit, Tifa -- he's not a natural like your mother was, but he's trying his best. Are you eating here or going home?" Her tone left no doubt which option she thought was the proper one.
Tifa met Marta's eyes defiantly. "Here. With Zack and Cloud." She turned to her companions and asked, "Do you want stew or more sandwiches?"
Zack looked wary. "That depends -- what's in the stew?"
"Vegetables, mostly, and some beef for flavor," Marta said briskly, picking up a rag and wiping down the bar top. "Sandwiches are chicken, beef -- which is a bit on the stringy side, sad to say -- or egg salad. We don't do fancy food up here, Zack Strife, no matter what you're used to back in Midgar."
"Stew for me and Zack, and water to drink," Cloud said before Zack could say anything unfortunate. "We'll sit on your porch, if that won't be too much trouble."
Marta dropped her rag into a bucket of soapy water and dried her hands. "I think we'll manage, Mr. Strife. Stew for you, Tifa?" Her eyes strayed toward the PHS at the end of the bar, and Tifa realized her father would probably show up before the end of dinner.
Well, if he made a scene, that would be his problem.
"Stew for me," she said to Marta, "and if you call my dad, maybe you should make a bowl for him, too." Then she followed Cloud back outside, to the weather-beaten table the Firths kept outside for tourists who wanted to absorb the atmosphere of a small mountain town. Cloud seemed uninterested in atmosphere; Tifa suspected he just didn't want to be near the hikers.
"Why won't you let me have beer?" Zack asked as he pulled out a chair for Tifa. She stared crosswise at him -- he blinked, looked at his hands in surprise, and flushed. "Cloud, your stupid court tutors managed to corrupt me after all. I'm being chivalrous! This is embarrassing!"
"It's polite," Cloud said, without turning from his contemplation of the sunlight on the mountain peaks. "Tifa, don't hit him for this, even if we all know you're perfectly capable of pulling out your own chair. Court manners may be silly and often pretentious, but they can be deadly serious at times and Zack needs to master them."
"Okay," Tifa said, deciding to ignore the byplay. She sat down and kicked Zack's ankle until he stopped slapping the side of his head and pulled out a chair for himself.
"So, court manners, whatever. Cloud, why--"
"You can't have beer because you're underage," Cloud said before Zack could finish. He twisted back around in his seat as Marta Firth pushed the door open with her foot and carried three bowls of stew over to their table. Her husband followed with a half loaf of bread, a knife, spoons, and napkins. "Thank you very much," Cloud told her. "I'm sorry we've put you to the bother of calling Mr. Lockheart, and I apologize for any potential unpleasantness when he arrives." He smiled, quiet and brilliant, like dawn filtered over the edge of the horizon.
Very faintly, Marta Firth blushed.
Tifa kicked Zack before he could laugh.
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End of Part 5
Back to Part 4
Continue to Part 6
original post and comments
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See? NaNo is good for some things, even if this story is meandering way out to hell and gone. I just hope my subconscious has some sort of conclusion in mind -- there are a couple things that have to happen, and a couple others that I want to have happen, but beyond that I'm really clueless. And you know? The last time I wrote a fanfiction story without any real idea where it was going, it took me three years to finish. Just saying.
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Two Guys and a Girl: Part 5
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Tifa pulled grass and weeds; Zack followed her, digging a shallow trench in the cleared path. When they had the pyre surrounded -- and after Tifa had fetched a second shovel from the shed and helped Zack widen the trench -- they went back to the kitchen to wash up and wait for Cloud to finish dealing with the basement.
"So how old is Cloud?" Tifa asked as she put a handful of loose leaf tea into an infusion ball and filled the kettle with cold water. "I mean, if he knew King Roland, he has to be at least fifty or sixty, but he only looks about twenty. Does he just age really slowly?"
Zack frowned. "I'm not telling you how old he is; that's his business. But he doesn't get older. I've known him for ten years now, and he always looks the same. Well, he grew his hair out for a few years while we were hanging around court -- it looks less messy when he can pull it back -- and his fingernails grow and stuff like that, but that's all."
"Weird," said Tifa. She set the kettle on the stove and sat down at the table, waiting for Cloud. They probably didn't have time for tea before dinner, not if they were walking into town, but this way everything was set up for when they got back.
"I guess it is," Zack agreed. "I never really thought about it -- he's just Cloud, and that's just how he is."
Tifa nodded. "Family's like that. Speaking of which, if Cloud's really old, is he your father? I thought he was your brother, but--"
"He adopted me," Zack interrupted, tipping his chair back so he was balanced precariously on two legs; he wobbled back and forth between the table and the wall. "He's my guardian, and I'm his heir -- which is the most pointless bit of legal nonsense ever -- but he's not my father. I don't have a father. And he's not my brother, either. He's just Cloud."
Tifa blinked. "Okay. Hey, if you're his heir, and he's Shinra, does that make you a lord?"
Zack flushed.
Tifa grinned. "It does! Ha! And my dad told me I shouldn't hang out with you -- I'll have to rub it in his face that he told me not to be friends with a lord. What's your title? Or Cloud's title, I guess -- what lands does he hold? Is he a duke? He's got royal blood, so he could be a duke... or maybe he's only a baron." A thought struck her, and she leaned forward over the table. "Is he the lord of Nibelheim? I always thought we didn't have a lord, because we don't pay any land or harvest tithes, but Cloud said he doesn't like the way things are set up, so maybe he is our lord and he just doesn't collect taxes?"
Zack tilted his chair back further and braced his hands against the wall behind his head. "I don't know! I never listened to the damn protocol tutors! But I'm pretty sure Cloud doesn't need tithes -- he's got a lot of savings and investments, and sometimes he goes off and does jobs for weird people. I think that pays well, but he never lets me come along."
"What kind of jobs?"
"Beats me," said Zack, and shrugged. "I think a lot of it's computer stuff, but sometimes he takes a sword and a bunch of guns, so I'm not sure. He told me once that he used to lead a mercenary group, a long, long time ago, so maybe he still works freelance. That'd be seriously cool. Of course, that means he probably isn't a merc, because life's never as cool as I hope it'll be." Zack sighed, sounding so weary and put-upon that Tifa couldn't help but laugh.
Zack promptly lunged across the table and tried to make her stop, which just made Tifa laugh harder. He pinned her to the floor. She bit him -- not hard, of course, but enough to make a point. He grabbed a dishtowel and tried to tie up her hands. She wriggled one free and shoved half-heartedly at him.
Tifa had just discovered that Zack was ticklish on the insides of his elbows -- he squirmed and turned pink at the tips of his ears -- when Cloud walked into the kitchen and stopped, looking bemused. "Zachary Strife," he said slowly. "Do I want to know what's going on here?"
"It's not what it looks like!" Zack said, letting go of the dishtowel and holding up his hands.
"Then you are engaging in rather idiosyncratic foreplay?" said Cloud, raising one eyebrow.
Tifa squeaked, and clapped her hands over her mouth. She could feel herself turning ten shades of purple with embarrassment.
Zack just groaned. "I swear, Cloud, you pick the weirdest times to have a sense of humor. Can we go now, before I die of embarrassment?" He glanced sideways, and added, "And be nicer to Tifa! She's not used to you, you jerk."
"Oh, right. My apologies, Miss Lockheart." Cloud swept her a deep, formal bow, and then offered his hand to help her stand up.
Tifa swore she was turning an eleventh shade of purple.
This time, Zack laughed.
Tifa threw the dishtowel at him.
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Summer days were long in Nibelheim; the sun seemed to linger near the jagged horizon for hours, gilding the snow-capped peaks and casting long shadows through the pines. As they walked into town, Tifa amused herself by playing a silent game of hopscotch with the shadows on the road -- if she stepped into a shadow with her left foot, she was safe, but if her right foot touched a dark patch of gravel, she had to touch Cloud or Zack within the next thirty seconds. If either one of them noticed, they were polite enough not to say anything.
The streets were mostly empty at this hour -- everyone was home for dinner, and the few visitors were already at the inn. Tifa caught a few people looking curiously out of their windows at the strangers walking through town with the mayor's daughter, but she raised her chin and ignored them.
Cloud seemed perfectly at home -- which made sense, if he'd grown up in Nibelheim. Even if he was really old, it wasn't like the town had ever changed much. Zack, on the other hand, kept looking around like something very obvious was missing.
"Half the houses have doors on the second floors," Zack said. "I didn't really notice earlier, but that's totally weird. What's the point of a door without a balcony or a staircase? I mean, if you're a demon and have wings, or if you're a mage and can summon winds, that's one thing, but you're mostly human here, right?"
"No demons, except some hunters passing through," Tifa agreed. "The doors are for midwinter, when the snow gets high -- people used to just let it pile up and move the street up a story. But that gets messy if there's a thaw, so a few hundred years ago we dug tunnels between all the houses, so we don't really have to go outside once the big storms hit."
"You can't seriously get that much snow," Zack said. "Cloud, she's making that up, right?"
Cloud shook his head. "No, she isn't. Nibel winters are fierce, and everything has to work around the weather. You see how all the roofs are slanted? That's so the snow will slide off instead of piling up and weighing down the houses. And you see how the walkways are grooved on the slopes, and those holes on the sides of the buildings? That's for when everything gets iced over, but when the snow isn't too deep -- the grooves provide traction, and the holes are where people fix guide rails so they have something to hang on to when the wind blows."
"Weird," Zack said. "Why not just use some fire spells and melt the snow?"
Tifa couldn't believe anyone didn't know this. "First of all, the water would freeze before it all drained away, so we'd just have really slick ice to deal with. Second, hot water flowing underneath a big field of snow is a very bad idea! Don't you know what an avalanche is?"
"A bunch of snow and rocks falling down a mountain," Zack said. "Are they really dangerous?"
"Yes!" Tifa and Cloud said together. "And don't take that as an invitation to find out for yourself," Cloud added. "You can't fight an avalanche, and you're not fast enough to outrun one either. Avalanches aren't a joke."
Zack held up his hands. "Okay, I get it -- watch out for avalanches, and don't melt all the snow. If I'm ever here in the winter, I'll make sure not to imitate you with the fire spells." Then he waved his hand toward the inn, which they had somehow reached without Tifa's notice. "By the way, I think we're here. Dinnertime!"
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The Nibelheim inn belonged to Marta Firth and her husband, Gunnar. They did a sporadic business hosting trappers and mine inspectors, but mostly they served alcohol and occasional meals to townspeople. This being summer, there was a small group of nature enthusiasts on a hiking tour of the mountains -- they noisily occupied a large table in the corner, though judging by their occasional wary glances toward the bar, Marta had already told them off for causing too much of a ruckus.
Marta gave Tifa, Zack, and Cloud a weighing stare as they walked through the door. "Your father's looking for you, Tifa Lockheart. Who are these folks?"
"Cloud and Zack Strife," Tifa said, pointing to indicate which name went with whom. "I told my dad about them already; he's just--"
"--just being a father," Marta finished, with a disapproving look. "Give the poor man some credit, Tifa -- he's not a natural like your mother was, but he's trying his best. Are you eating here or going home?" Her tone left no doubt which option she thought was the proper one.
Tifa met Marta's eyes defiantly. "Here. With Zack and Cloud." She turned to her companions and asked, "Do you want stew or more sandwiches?"
Zack looked wary. "That depends -- what's in the stew?"
"Vegetables, mostly, and some beef for flavor," Marta said briskly, picking up a rag and wiping down the bar top. "Sandwiches are chicken, beef -- which is a bit on the stringy side, sad to say -- or egg salad. We don't do fancy food up here, Zack Strife, no matter what you're used to back in Midgar."
"Stew for me and Zack, and water to drink," Cloud said before Zack could say anything unfortunate. "We'll sit on your porch, if that won't be too much trouble."
Marta dropped her rag into a bucket of soapy water and dried her hands. "I think we'll manage, Mr. Strife. Stew for you, Tifa?" Her eyes strayed toward the PHS at the end of the bar, and Tifa realized her father would probably show up before the end of dinner.
Well, if he made a scene, that would be his problem.
"Stew for me," she said to Marta, "and if you call my dad, maybe you should make a bowl for him, too." Then she followed Cloud back outside, to the weather-beaten table the Firths kept outside for tourists who wanted to absorb the atmosphere of a small mountain town. Cloud seemed uninterested in atmosphere; Tifa suspected he just didn't want to be near the hikers.
"Why won't you let me have beer?" Zack asked as he pulled out a chair for Tifa. She stared crosswise at him -- he blinked, looked at his hands in surprise, and flushed. "Cloud, your stupid court tutors managed to corrupt me after all. I'm being chivalrous! This is embarrassing!"
"It's polite," Cloud said, without turning from his contemplation of the sunlight on the mountain peaks. "Tifa, don't hit him for this, even if we all know you're perfectly capable of pulling out your own chair. Court manners may be silly and often pretentious, but they can be deadly serious at times and Zack needs to master them."
"Okay," Tifa said, deciding to ignore the byplay. She sat down and kicked Zack's ankle until he stopped slapping the side of his head and pulled out a chair for himself.
"So, court manners, whatever. Cloud, why--"
"You can't have beer because you're underage," Cloud said before Zack could finish. He twisted back around in his seat as Marta Firth pushed the door open with her foot and carried three bowls of stew over to their table. Her husband followed with a half loaf of bread, a knife, spoons, and napkins. "Thank you very much," Cloud told her. "I'm sorry we've put you to the bother of calling Mr. Lockheart, and I apologize for any potential unpleasantness when he arrives." He smiled, quiet and brilliant, like dawn filtered over the edge of the horizon.
Very faintly, Marta Firth blushed.
Tifa kicked Zack before he could laugh.
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End of Part 5
Back to Part 4
Continue to Part 6
original post and comments
---------------------------------------------
See? NaNo is good for some things, even if this story is meandering way out to hell and gone. I just hope my subconscious has some sort of conclusion in mind -- there are a couple things that have to happen, and a couple others that I want to have happen, but beyond that I'm really clueless. And you know? The last time I wrote a fanfiction story without any real idea where it was going, it took me three years to finish. Just saying.