[Final Fantasy VII] Il Sogno Galleggiante Part Three

[grownupneko]

Title: Il Sogno Galleggiante
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sephiroth/Cloud, Zack/Cloud
Genre: Historical/Romance
Warning: Badly abused Italian, OCs, Assassin's Creed cameos, graphic sex and all that good stuff.
Chapter: 1/1
Comments: Conte Sephiroth holds extravagant parties in the floating world of Venice, however, this attracts all kinds of scoundrels, including a group of thieves led by Cloud Strife. Can Cloud resist the decadent nature of the Conte's lifestyle and remember his goal?


Il Sogno Galleggiate

III

Cloud woke and dressed for his persona. Signore Crescenzo De Luca needed to be seen out and about in Venice, he also needed to make more connections. It would be much easier to swindle Sephiroth's peers at the same time than to create a new persona later. Lockhart was Cloud's main target, and he knew that the Sindaco would be far more gullible than the others. In fact, he was pretty certain he could get the man to put himself in the frame for the thefts that Cloud would make once his position with the Conte was secured.

He pulled on the suit and was putting the finishing touches to his ensemble with a few trinkets of jewellery when he felt arms slide around his waist. He turned around to see Zack stood behind him and he smiled.

“Angeal says don't even think of sneaking out to start thieving, you have priestly duties in the church,” Zack said. Cloud pouted.

“Can't you just pretend you didn't see me?” he asked. Zack pretended to think about it, then kissed his cheek.

“Not a chance, because then I'd have to do it,” he pointed out. Cloud felt the ridiculous urge to poke him in the eye, but instead he grabbed a black priest's smock from his wardrobe and put it on over the top of his gentleman's ensemble.

“Some lace is still showing,” Zack offered. Cloud made a rude gesture and stomped into the church.

*

The screams from the Conte's bedroom were ignored by the guards outside. They were used to strange things happening within the bed chambers. Sephiroth was not known to be a gentle lover, for all his charm outside the bedroom, and he had also been known to bring lovers who hadn't exactly consented to the pairing to his bed.

There was a climax to the screams and then the door was thrown open. A wild-eyed boy shot through the door, his ass bright red and his clothes bundled in his arms. The guards pretended not to see anything.

An hour later a bathed, dressed, respectable Conte stepped out of the room and the guards both bowed. Sephiroth smirked and went about his business.

*

Cloud had never been adopted. The Doctor had quickly realised that he didn't have the skills to allow him to be apprenticed and that his only skills were that he could speak small amounts of Spanish and Arabic. Left with no options to train him and the possibility of having to raise the boy himself, the Doctor had quickly sold him off to two men of a questionable professions.

Cloud had learned quickly under them though. Nero and his brother Weiss ran a pickpocketing ring whose reach ran throughout the city. They used young children as false beggars and allowed the Orphans they'd collected to form teams that competed with each other to steal the most. Cloud had been the only one to work alone, his quickness of hand being the only things that prevented him from being cast from the group for lack of profits.

For Cloud was a little smarter than the rest. The rest would clamour about, picking pockets and making a general uproar. During Cloud's first year with Nero and Weiss, over a dozen of his peers were caught by the Guard and their thieving days cut short by a swift hanging. Cloud was intelligent enough to rob people without them knowing they had been robbed until hours later, by which time he was long gone, their purse quite happily tucked inside his dirty tunic.

For three years Cloud continued thieving under Nero and Weiss, until in his tenth year he picked the wrong pocket. It had been a tough week, and Cloud had been threatened with a beating by Nero if he didn't get more gold than he'd been handing in previously. Even so, it hadn't been Cloud's fault that there was someone important in the city and that the guards had been more attentive than usual.

In desperation he'd picked the pocket of a priest, dressed entirely in black velvet with a silver cross embroidered on his breast. No sooner had Cloud's fingers closed around the purse did he find a dagger point aimed at his throat. He stared at it with frightened blue eyes and looked up at the priest. The man's cold blue eyes stared back at him without sympathy.

“Your grace!” An oriental boy was at the priest's side in a moment, his own acolyte robe looking too big on his frame. Cloud backed up until his back was pressed against the wall, his bony frame pushing into the stonework hard enough to leave bruises.

“Just a pickpocket, Tseng. A pretty good one. I barely knew he'd tried,” the priest said, using the dagger to lift Cloud's chin. He swallowed, his heart pumping frantically in his ears.

“We really must get back to the church though, your grace,” the oriental, Tseng, said. Cloud tried not to imagine what the priest would do to him.

“Yes, yes, but first I want to know about our little pocket-thief here. How old are you boy?” he asked. Cloud tried to find his voice past the dryness in his throat.

“I'm in my ninth year sir,” he managed to say, then quickly amended himself. “I mean your grace.”

“One of Nero and Weiss' lads by the look of it,” the priest said, turning to Tseng. Cloud froze in confusion, not sure why a priest would know of Nero and Weiss at all. Their little gang had escaped the notice of the Guard for so long...

“Half starved as well from the look of him. Must not be very good,” Tseng commented, standing so that the scene was blocked from the majority of the people in the street. No one was really paying attention anyway. Who cared about one dead street thief at the end of the day?

“No, he's good,” the priest said softly. “There must be some other reason.”

“I thieve alone, your grace. I get less gold that way, but I don't get caught like the others,” Cloud explained himself, slightly proud of his brains. The priest's eyes grew a little warm.

“Tseng, after we get back to the Church I want you to go and visit Signore Nero. He'll be easiest to barter with. Tell him I'll offer three gold pieces for the boy, and he's lucky to get that much for such a half-starved creature,” the priest said. Cloud's stomach went cold. He had heard tales of what priests did to little boys and he had considered himself lucky to avoid that fate so far.

“If you say so, your grace. If he demands more?” Tseng asked, looking disinterested. The priest just smiled.

“Then the guard may get a little tip off to the whereabouts of almost half the city's pickpockets,” he said. Cloud watched as the dagger was removed from near his throat and sheathed and then tried to make a break for it, pushing the priest away as he dashed towards the busiest part of the street.

A arm snagged around his throat from behind and he struggled for a while before his head was knocked into the wall and he passed out.

*

Cloud had awoken and had immediately wondered where he was. It was a very rich place, with tapestries hanging on the walls and lavish furniture strewn throughout the rooms. He stared at his surroundings, wondering how he'd managed to get here. It didn't look like a cell, but then, he'd never been in one, so he wouldn't know...

“Ah, you're awake.”

Cloud looked up to see the priest from before, his stern features set into a more personable smile now. He was no longer wearing the priest's clothes, but instead a simple tunic and hose. His black hair hung in curtains down by his face.

“Don't look so afraid. I don't know what you've heard about the Church, but I'm pretty sure it's wrong,” he said. Cloud folded his hands in his lap and moved back in his seat a little. “I'm Angeal. I'm the head priest of this church, the Church of the Sacred Virgin Madonna.”

Cloud nodded, not sure what this man was trying to say. He knew that there were some priests who liked young boys, but this man seemed so different from the other priests that Cloud had met that he couldn't add up the image of a molester with him.

“And your name?” Angeal prompted. Cloud's tongue felt too big for his mouth as he scrambled to make a reply. Angeal laughed.

“Cloud was that?” he asked. Cloud nodded dumbly. Angeal leaned forward and ruffled his hair.

“Are you hungry, Cloud?” he asked. The boy nodded and watched as the priest walked across the room and filled up a bowl with mutton stew and acorn bread and came back. Cloud began to shovel the food into his mouth with his fingers, ignoring the burning of the juices on his fingertips. He ate until it was all gone and only then noticed the nauseous, burning feeling in his stomach.

“Here,” Angeal passed him a mug. Cloud took it and quickly drank from it. The watered down wine was sour, but Cloud couldn't stop drinking it until it was gone and his stomach was somewhat more settled.

“We need to bath you,” Angeal said, looking at Cloud's sticky hands and face. Cloud shook his head. He wasn't taking his clothes off for this man to gawp at him. Angeal seemed to know what he was thinking because he smiled.

“I will fill a tub with water and then erect a screen for you to bathe privately. If you are to be staying here, you will get used to being clean,” Angeal said. Cloud's stomach flipped.

“St-stay here?!” he repeated. Angeal raised an eyebrow.

“Indeed. I'm taking you on as an apprentice,” he said. Cloud frowned. He didn't think he'd make a very good priest's apprentice. He could read a little Latin, but most of it was now forgotten.

“Do you understand what this Church is?” Angeal asked. Cloud wasn't sure how to answer the question so he just looked up at Angeal with innocent blue eyes.

“We are an organisation that serves God by... redistributing his wealth across the city,” Angeal replied, a slight smirk on his face. Cloud blinked. Thieves of God?

“We take from the richest people in the city and then we claim it for the poor people. Ourselves, mostly,” Angeal said, gesturing around his room. Cloud squirmed in his seat. All this was stolen from rich people?

“You're a thief, your grace?” he asked. Angeal began to laugh.

“I'm not a real priest, Cloud. This church is a cover. For a start once someone claims sanctuary within the walls he cannot be arrested or murdered. Also, who suspects the priesthood of robbing people? Well, apart from through the usual legitimate means,” Angeal's eyes were bright and Cloud began to realise just what kind of a place he was in. This was a thief's haven.

“How do you steal so much stuff without being caught?” he found himself asking. Angeal winked at him.

“We let them give it us, of course,” he said. Cloud frowned, confused.

“We use our brains instead of our quickness. We pretend to be rich, like those people in the posh houses. We then lie to them, big, elaborate lies, until they trust us. We then invent something: an investment opportunity or a family crisis. They give us money or heirlooms, whatever they have that's valuable, and then we disappear. Most are so ashamed to be caught out that they don't tell anyone they have been robbed,” Angeal explained. Cloud found himself grinning at the end. He liked that kind of thieving. It wouldn't matter that he wasn't as big as the other boys. He just had to be smart enough.

“So we trick them into giving us all their stuff and then run away with it and use it for ourselves? That's pretty awesome, Signore!” he said. Angeal nodded.

“Thank you Cloud. Now if you will get a bath and change your clothes, we can discuss this a little more,” he said. Cloud got to his feet and followed Angeal to the hammered out tin tub that was the bath. The other began to draw water through a pump and, though it was cold, Cloud got into it without any further complaints.

*

Cloud hadn't thought that training to be a con man would have been so hard. Angeal put him to work immediately after he'd bathed, trying to gauge if Cloud could read or write. His knowledge of languages had been almost lost to him, but with Angeal's careful guidance he began to relearn and remember a lot of what he knew.

By the time he went to sleep that night, in a clean nightgown, his head was buzzing with words in Arabic, letters of the alphabet and Latin grammar. The next day was even worse. Angeal himself oversaw his instruction in languages, reading and writing, but his apprentice, Tseng, oversaw other aspects. Cloud was retaught table manners, how to cook simple meals, how to do priestly acolyte duties and how to wash his own clothes. Tseng was patient, but distant, and Cloud much preferred to spend his time in the company of Angeal.

Three weeks after he originally came to the church, Cloud was sent across the road to the tanner's shop to get some leather shoes for Tseng. He clutched the money tightly in his fist as he cross the road to the shop opposite and pushed the door open.

The tanner was a large man with a thick beard and a loud, booming voice. Cloud had stuttered his request to the man. He'd frowned and hollered for his apprentice. Cloud waited patiently for the boy to arrive, not sure what was wrong. A moment later a boy in an apron walked into the room, his dark hair tied up out of his face to reveal his sharp features. Cloud blinked. It was the boy from the Plague Doctor's cart!

“You're Zack!” he said brightly. The tanner cuffed Zack around the back of the head.

“Have you finished the priest's shoes, boy?” he demanded. Cloud winced as Zack took another blow to the back of the head. Even so, the dark haired boy just grinned up at the tanner.

“Of course I did. It's in the back,” he said petulantly. Cloud saw the tanner's mouth twitch into a smile. He guessed it was that weird kind of relationship that some men had. Cloud had never really understood why men punched each other so much to say hello and things, but looking at the closeness Zack had with his master, Cloud couldn't help but feel a little longing for it himself.

“So, you got apprenticed to the priesthood then?” Zack asked, watching his father disappear out back. “We were worried when you got sold to those guys. They didn't seem very nice.”

Cloud nearly told Zack who they were, but caught himself just in time. Instead he just smiled at the other and shrugged. “Angeal is a good man. I'm very lucky he took me in,” he said instead. Zack nodded and at that moment the tanner returned with the shoes.

“Here you go, lad,” he said, handing them over. Cloud took them and handed over the money. The tanner made it disappear into his pocket almost faster than Cloud could see. He smiled at the man and turned to go.

“Um... Cloud? Later, when I'm finished working... Can I come call for you?” Zack asked. Cloud froze, not sure what to say. He looked up at the tanner but the man's eyes were kind.

“I don't know. I don't know if Angeal will allow it,” he said carefully. He'd be in the crypt doing his lessons after all. Zack's face fell and Cloud felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach.

“I'll come and call on you if I'm allowed,” Cloud consoled. Zack's face brightened and the tanner chuckled, ruffling Zack's hair.

“We'll feed you too lad, if you want. I'm sure Angeal will have no problem with it so long as you get home before curfew,” he said. Cloud nodded and dashed out of the door, his cheeks bright pink.

He didn't mention it to Angeal and didn't call for Zack. Although he desperately wanted a friend, he didn't want to upset Angeal by asking for too much from him. He would concentrate on becoming an awesome thief and that would be good enough.

*

Cloud became fluent in Arabic and Latin over the next few months. Angeal was so impressed by his progress that he rewarded Cloud by telling him that he was going to send him for lessons in weaponry starting from his eleventh birthday. Cloud had been considerably cheered, although he wasn't looking forward to the summer months coming and the Plague they would undoubtedly bring.

It was on a night when he was conversing with Tseng purely in Latin, attempting to trip the other up and make him make a mistake, that Angeal came in looking furious. Cloud immediately sensed the anger and made himself small, curling his knees up towards his chest and starting to shake. When adults got angry, usually children got hurt.

“Cloud. A word with you,” Angeal said. Cloud miserably curled into a tighter ball. Tseng gracefully left, his dark oriental eyes narrowed critically at Cloud.

“I didn't do nothing!” Cloud said as soon as Tseng left. Angeal's mouth was in a thin line.

“The tanner's lad, Zack. Did you tell him you weren't allowed to leave here?” Angeal asked. Cloud shook his head, his stomach flipping. He hadn't spoken to Zack since he'd been there a few months ago. Whenever he saw the other boy he'd run away from him.

“A verbal answer will be sufficient,” Angeal snapped.

“No sir,” Cloud said. Angeal folded his arms.

“Then why did the tanner come over to me and ask me to let you go over? Apparently the offer has been made repeatedly, and yet you have yet to accept their hospitality,” he said. Cloud stared at Angeal's feet.

“I didn't want to ask for nothing. It's not right. I've got to work hard on my languages and my cooking and chores. I don't have time to play with Zack,” he said stubbornly. “I didn't want to bother you with it.”

Angeal's face softened. “You're a child, Cloud. You're allowed to go and play with Zack if you want to...”

Cloud raised his face, looking a little hopeful. “But my duties...” he said. Angeal shook his head.

“You've done more than well enough in those. Besides, I don't want the neighbourhood thinking I'm abusing you down here. The tanner all but accused me of running a boy-whore house down here. Now go wash the ink stains off your hands and visit the tanner and apologise for this misunderstanding,” Angeal ordered. Cloud got to his feet and looked down at his hands that had black blotches all over them. He then looked up at Angeal again.

“I promise not to get my clothes dirty,” he said. A fond smile came to Angeal's face.

“Run along,” he said. Run along Cloud did.

---> Next Part