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Righting the Wrongs	By : Scorch Category: Final Fantasy VII > Het - Male/Female Views: 2487 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Righting the Wrongs

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. They belong to Squaresoft/Unix.

She knew it was here somewhere, she just knew it.
If only she could move, then she might be able to find it and get safely back to the cabin.
If only it wasn�t so cold, if only the frost hadn�t made her fingers numb and bones ache.
If only the freezing water beneath her wasn�t seeping through her clothes to soak her skin and matt her hair.
God, she was so cold.
Too weak to move and too numb to care, Tifa Lockheart lay barely breathing at the bottom of the Northern Crater, her eyes slowly drifting into permanent sleep and body accepting her coming death.
Having heard of a raw material that could better her fighting gloves, the martial artist had gone off to the given location in order to retrieve it. However, a violent snow storm had hit and her compass was lost, leaving her stranded with no idea which way was which.
Snow flakes continuously fell, the tiny diamonds decorated her eyelashes and mouth, the wintry weather bringing a deathly pale shade to her usually tanned cheeks.
If only she could get warm enough to move, she might be able to reach the PHS in her bag.
Trying to stretch her arm and seeing it was no good, Tifa let out a final sigh and allowed her eyes to close for the last time.
Her final thought was for her friends, her family.
�Goodbye��
*~*~*~*
Day after day, as it had been for the last seven months, was the same.
The crater was now his home, the only place few dared to venture, the only place safe enough for him to be.
The sky was grey and bleak, yet the snow always a welcome change to the sparkling walls of the inner cave. Crisp air stung his lungs and chapped his lips, his hands pulled the Chocobo skin tighter round his body to ward off the chill.
In the thick layer of white, his heavy footfalls left prints that would be gone upon his return. His eyes, once bright with cruelty and wickedness, were now dull and empty, as lifeless as they had been in the lab.
Hidden under a black hood and allowing his identity to be seen, silver hair was kept from getting wet but didn�t prevent the snow from trickling down his face.
Grabbing his attention, the toe of his boot hit something solid that was covered in a thin veil. Staring down, he saw the figure of a young woman deathly still.
Leaning down and reaching out with a gloved finger, Sephiroth brushed away strands of dark hair and traced her features. Even through his gloves, he could feel the cold seeping under her skin to steal her life.
After all that he had done, as both a general and a puppet, he refused to let the loss of another rest upon his shoulders.
A strong arm slipped under her back and his other under her knees, with ease and grace, the man pulled the girl from what would have been an icy grave and huddled her close to his chest.
�Revive.� He whispered, his voice hoarse with lack of use.
Enveloping them both, the warming effect of magic took it�s toll and he felt her instantly react. Her body, soft and curved, sagged into his and a breath, ragged and unsteady, was inhaled.
She would need more if was to survive and so, forgoing his need for food and animal skins, Sephiroth turned and went back the way he came.
*~*~*~*
The self made bed was far from comfortable, but it would have to do and he gently settled her down. Her clothes were wet and retaining cold, they had to come off.
Inch by inch, creamy flesh was revealed as the general took off first her top and then her skirt. Years of practiced loneliness had him easily ignoring her nakedness, even though he had not felt the touch of a woman in so long.
Removing the Chocobo skin from his shoulders, he placed over her and tucked her freezing legs under it.
Quietly, Sephiroth reluctantly left the young woman in order to tend a fire, his face scowling slightly when he realised the wood supply was also running low. She would need a lot of heat if she was to live.
Being a general, and the best at that, survival had been a highly important part of his training and the one thing better than artificial warmth was body heat.
Following the Chocobo, his heavy cloak and gloves were taken off, his boots and scarf were next. The gloves went on her hands and he couldn�t help but notice how delicate those hands were. Each slender digit was slid, with care, inside until all were safe. His cloak was laid atop the animal hide and he crawled under both covers, tugging her close.
�You are safe. You may rest.�
On hearing Sephiroth�s voice, Tifa�s orbs fluttered once or twice and she murmured unintelligibly.
His hand, so much larger than her face, smoothed soaking hair from her forehead and his chest made contact with hers. The soft swell of her breasts was distracting and his cock stirred between his thighs.
Snapping his eyes shut and willing away desire, Sephiroth shifted away lest he wake and frighten her.
The girl�s face, remarkably attractive even in her critical state, scrunched up as though she were to cry. Full lips curled up childishly and a whimper of discomfort escaped, the longing for contact evident.
Ignoring his better judgement, the general closed the distance between them and curved both arms around her, nestling her head under his chin. �There now.� He spoke like he would a child. �You must sleep.�
As he looked at her, Sephiroth�s gaze landed on the large and unmistakable scar running from her chest to abdomen. Having given many people ones similar, he knew it had been caused by Masamune.
Tifa Lockheart.
The woman-child from Nibelheim, the little girl who had guided him and his men to the reactor all those years ago.
The fifteen year old girl who had the body of a woman twice her age. The girl who he had pondered a betrothal with, had her father given permission.
Tifa Lockheart, one of group who had both saved and killed him.
Bitterness twisted a heart thought dead.
What a cruel thing fate could be.
Her fingers came up to smooth across his chest, nails scoring light welts into the flawless surface and making him hiss in pleasure.
It had been so long.
Shaking off those thoughts, Sephiroth took her hand and held it still, hoping to rid his body of the sudden sensations she unknowingly caused. �Sleep, my lady.�
Her breathing evened out and exhausted slumber won, leaving him wondering what would happen once she came too.
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Righting the Wrongs