Righting the Wrongs

North Continent pine branches burned, filling the cave with a warming aroma that reminded her of camping out with friends as a child. Mixing with that, the scent of cooking meat had her stomach rumbling and mouth watering. Though it definitely didn’t look as good as it smelt, the meat was the only thing she’d had to eat since yesterday and she would not turn it down.

Turning the stick over the makeshift roaster, Sephiroth glanced slyly at the brunette and wondered what she was thinking of. “You may sit with me, I promise to be a good boy.”

Tifa snorted, “You and good don’t belong in the same sentence. Thanks anyway, but I’m fine here.” Her hands patted the bed and a smile appeared. “See? Comfy.”

“You seem to think I was asking you to sit. I refuse to have you eat in my bed.” The general grinned in a way that had her skin prickling with heat. He didn’t need to say a word, his thoughts were clearly expressed through darkening green orbs. His tongue swept his lower lip once and she shakily swallowed, the pale pink pout glistened in the firelight and she was forced to look away.

“How about you pass my clothes and I’ll eat on the bed?”

Sephiroth chuckled lightly and checked on the food, deft fingers turned the stick again before he relaxed back on his elbows. “That is just semantics. You will not eat in, or on, my bed.” And that was final. Eating in bed was not only lazy, but also very messy.

Seeing she wasn’t going to move a muscle, he sighed and got up. An amused and odd smile replaced that of lust but, unfortunately for her, the effect it had on her was more powerful. Jolting Tifa out of her thoughts, a large hand was offered and fingers, thick and long, wiggled invitingly. Port coloured orbs darted from his hand to face, her teeth worried her lower lip.

“Come.” This time, the order was not to be argued with.

Taking Sephiroth’s hand and stilling when he closed his digits around hers, the brunette tightly clutched the blanket to keep her modesty and heat. Rising unsteadily and finding herself in a secure grip, she realised effort would be pointless and gave in. As her body uncurled, the blanket swished and kissed her thighs, providing an enticing sight for his hungered orbs. “Thank you again. God, isn’t that getting to be habit? How many is that?”

Leading the girl to his previous seat and settling her, without resistance, on his lap. Against the back of her bare thighs, he hardened slightly and a sound of satisfaction rumbled through his chest. Almost immediately, Tifa went to shoot up but his arms prevented her escape and she was firmly held to his chest.

Speaking low and gruffly, Sephiroth’s voice trailed fire from her throat and caused her heart to race. “It is not ‘Thank You’ that I wish to keep count of, my lady. Turn the food.”

Dizzy from the close and intimate contact, far away with the sound of his husky tone and lost in a whirl of increasing desire, she barely heard the request. “Uh?” This was the perfect time for her brain to take a vacation.

Not bothering to repeat, the general leaned forward and reached out, his arm brushing the side of her breast and she sharply inhaled. Meat turned and he relaxed, keeping a careful watch on their dinner. Her hair tickled his face and Sephiroth moved it, but kept silky strands to touch. “Your hair is beautiful, so long and soft.” He wanted to fist it as she sucked him into orgasm.

“Yours is unusual.” Tifa was grateful her back was facing him, this way he couldn’t see her embarrassed cringing. “What I mean is the colour, silver, is really…” Where was Vincent and Death Penalty when she needed him? Being tongue tied rarely happened to her but when it did, it was nothing less than spectacular.

Behind her, Sephiroth’s body shook with quiet laughter. Taking pity on her and letting her hair go, the general smoothed his roughened palm down her slender arm and took hold of her fist, his gaze marvelled at the difference in size and texture. So tanned and soft, her skin felt like liquid gold. “I love how you feel to me, Tifa.” The white knuckle grip on the blanket was loosened and her fingers unfurled, she watched through glazed red pools as he toyed with and tickled her hand.

Feeling the excitement growing beneath her, “I never woulda guessed,” was mumbled in an embarrassed voice. Shifting forward on his lap in order to escape the evident arousal, the brunette coughed to distract him from her motion. When she succeeded, she wasn’t sure if it was disappointment she felt or not.

“Ah,” the general stated with a quick nod of his head. “I hope you are hungry, for dinner is done.” Much to Tifa’s bemusement, Sephiroth settled her in his place before seeing to the food. He was more than efficient, she guessed that could be a testament to his military background. He left the fire to burn as he removed the roasting stick and, subsequently, the meat from the stick. “You may have boiled or chilled water.”

Remembering the warmed liquid from earlier and shuddering, “I’ll take the chilled. What I wouldn’t give for some tea or cocoa.” The wish was followed by a loud and wanting sigh, “Yeah.” Tifa nodded and drifted off, crimson orbs glazed over with the fantasy. “Some of that really chocolatey cocoa you can only get at a café in Gold Saucer.”

Sephiroth’s face held a whimsical smile as he confessed, “I sampled that once and I must say, I found it very…”

“Delicious?” She offered, the corners of her mouth quirked up in response to his confession. “I hear ya. When I get out of here, I’m hijacking the Highwind to get some.”

The general fell silent and ignored her confused expression, concentrating only on their dinner.

*~*~*~*

Plucking a bit of meat off the stick and studying it before trying, Tifa’s face was one of trepidation and mild nausea. There, right in the very middle of her dinner, was a charred feather. Yes, she enjoyed eating meat but when not it had been done right in front of her. Cautiously, she popped it into her mouth and chewed carefully, momentarily stopping when it was better than she thought.

“S’good.”

Nodding his head in acknowledgement, the general took a bite of his own food. “I find it bland.”

Tifa cocked an eyebrow and swallowed. “You don’t have much choice when living out in the snowy fields of nature. It isn’t as if you can pop into the nearest outdoor café and ask to see the specials.”

“Unfortunately, you are correct.” Sephiroth’s lips curled up into a smile of sorts as silver strands fell into eyes. “I may not enjoy living as a savage, but there is a certain pride I get from providing for my lady.”

Judging by his long answer, she gathered the earlier silent treatment was at an end. At this, the brunette fell quiet and continued to eat until she was done. Dusting her hands off and sighing a yawn, she rubbed her tiring face and stared at him. He was undoubtedly a handsome man, by all accounts.

His skin was pale and marble smooth, pulled tight over heavily set muscles. His features were defined and strongly structured, his lips were rough and pink. Eyes the shade of jade, hypnotic and dazzling, were surrounded by dark lashes that framed their shape. His body was lethally formed, perfectly built for pleasure and pain. Physically, he made Cloud resemble a boy. His presence, Tifa’s breath involuntarily deepened, felt like a shroud. He exuded power and strength, he radiated charisma and knowledge. His very being seemed to fill the entire cave and she couldn’t help but drown in it.

A chuckle, low and melodious, brought the brunette out of her study and she graced him with her full attention. “What are you laughing at?” She didn’t need to be told she was blushing red.

“Forgive me, Tifa.” Sephiroth leaned back on his hands and lazily regarded her. There had been women who had looked at him in both revulsion and lust, but never with such intensity and curiosity. It positively thrilled him. “I was simply enjoying being the object of your study. If there is something you wish to know, then ask. You have no need to be shy.”

Her fingernail tapped once or twice, “How old are you?”

He smiled, “30, almost 31.” Green orbs twinkled with merriment, “I remember when you were a mere slip of a girl. A young lady with the world at her feet. Nothing more than long dark hair and pretty red eyes.”

Tifa’s face scrunched up, “I remember that, too.” Unfortunately, it didn’t seem her memories were as pleasant as his and her thoughts rang clear, causing the general suck in a deep breath and prepared himself for what was to come.

“Let’s have it, shall we?” Sephiroth stared at her, his gaze nothing like what it was mere moments ago.

“Let’s not and say we did.” The brunette, not wanting to ruin whatever it was they had going with a trip down memory lane. Until now, it had been so easy to pretend, so easy to ignore that which he had been and done all those years ago. “Look, Seph.”

“Sephiroth.” He corrected, an expression of distaste swept over his features and she suppressed a small chuckle.

“Sephiroth, if the name matters that much,” Tifa began again. “Tomorrow, I’m gone so there’s no point in going over things that can’t be undone. It happened so let’s just deal and move on.” Moving on from being orphaned at fifteen was a lot easier said than done. Moving on from losing her home and friends was easier said than done. “I’d rather let sleeping dogs lie and, since you’ve been kind enough to help me, I really don’t wanna get into a screaming match and ruin this.”

He held his breath for a moment and quietly mulled over her words, his penetrating eyes never left her face as he tried to see if she was being honest. After a short while, the man gave a brief nod and relented any attempt at getting her angry. It would be better for him if she got furious, if she tried to kill or hurt him, then he would find so much easier to let her go.

Nervousness seeped from every pore and her attention was everywhere but on him. Fingertips fiddled with the blanket and strands of hair, her lower lip was chewed and soothed until, finally, she spoke. “Sephiroth?”

“Yes?” His voice was cool, empty. Her next words destroyed any thoughts of letting go he may have had.

“You can’t stay here forever, you know? Why, um, why don’t you come with me tomorrow and find a nice place to live in peace?” Before he could reply, Tifa hurried on. “You can hitch a ride on the Highwind and we’ll drop you off. Sure, if Barrett and Cid get their way, you’ll be cleaning the ship with your undies and flossing with your sword, but they won’t mind. Really. They’re good people.”

Where had men like that been when he had been recruiting for the War at Wutai? Shaking off that thought, Sephiroth carefully regarded the girl, certain she was joking but she wasn’t. What could he say to that? Here was a young lady, whose life he had made hell, that was offering him a life because she didn’t want him to stay here. For a single second, the general saw the fifteen year old who had stood in front of him, blushing, while welcoming him to her home and life.

“I do not know.” The cave had become his shelter and, to some extent, his home. “I do not believe I could…”

She glared at him, harder than stone and just as solid. “And why not? Yeah, you did a lot of bad things Sephiroth and no, you can’t make up for them, but everybody has something right?” Tifa was right and she knew it. God, how many lives had be ruined after Avalanche had blown up reactors? There had been people out of work and families sent into poverty, some had died as an indirect result of the explosions. It wasn’t until they had started the real fight against Shinra, had they truly realised that their ways had not been the answer. So yes, everybody had skeletons in the closet.

“Promise me you’ll sleep on it, okay?” Promises were everything to her. They gave hope and in her life, hope and dreams were what made it worth living. Port orbs and chewed lips pleaded. “I don’t want to see you waste away in here so promise and meant it.”

“Rest assured, my lady.” Sephiroth’s head tilted to one side. “I do not give my word lightly. I promise to sleep on it and have a decision for you by first light.” Something inside him chuckled wickedly and he was forced to swallow it. As a general, first light meant exactly that. How he was looking forward to waking her.

First things were first, however, and he had to get her to sleep. Briefly and seriously considering using magic for that purpose, he grinned evilly but realised if he was not to leave with her, then tonight was all he had.

“I do believe it is time to rest. Come.”

She wasn’t tired yet. If anything, she felt better than she had in days. “I don’t wanna rest.” Tifa objected with a sigh as she stretched restless limbs and wiggled energetic toes. “I want my clothes so I can go find the material I need.”

“Absolutely not.” Sephiroth coolly stated, unaffected by the slight whine in her voice. “You suffered hypothermia no more than 24 hours ago. I would not let my men out after such a thing, much less my lady.”

Yeah well, tough. Ignoring a direct order, given to her by General Sephiroth, and standing straight, Tifa sent him a sickly sweet smile and, before he blinked, snatched up her clothes. Her back was to him and skirt tugged on under the blanket, top thrown over her head and pulled down over the blanket, which was then dropped. “Won’t be long!”

The man simply sat back and waited, a satisfied smirk appearing. Counting down on his fingers and patiently watching the door, he sighed in sheer contentment when a shriek floated down into the cave. Poor Tifa had obviously forgotten her shoes. Oh well, these things were sent to test. He was by the entrance with her boots and socks in hand, waiting for the lady to return and he wasn’t disappointed.

Hopping from foot-to-foot and shivering slightly, the brunette’s glare simply had him chuckling and holding out her shoes. “I do believe you forgot these.”

She mumbled something, a curse, as she yanked them from his hand and sat down. “You could have told me, you know.” A sock was pulled on, “All I wanted to do is get what I came for and did I?” The right sock followed. “No!” The left boot shoved on and tied. “That would make The Life and Times of Tifa Lockhart simple.” Right boot on and violently tied.

Through her frustrated tirade, Sephiroth stood in silence. He could understand restlessness, it could be said it was a friend of his. “Perhaps you need to bathe?” The hot springs weren’t too far from their cave, he would escort her and hope a hot bath would relax the irate vixen. Before she left tomorrow, he would help her find what she had been looking for.

Scorching red eyes dangerously narrowed as her head slowly raised up. “Are you saying I smell?”

“Not at all, Tifa.” He replied smoothly and oh so carefully. “I merely observed your frustrated restlessness and thought a hot bath may of some use.”

Her irrational anger deflated like a popped balloon and she flushed with shame. “I’m sorry Seph, I’m just… I don’t know, you know? Nothing has ever gone easy or my way and it can get…”

“Sephiroth,” was the quick correction. “My lady, you need not apologise.” Rethinking the plan for the hot springs as he looked at his sword. The return from the springs would subject her to severe temperature change that might instigate a relapse into hypothermia. “May I suggest something different?”

That caught her interest. “Like what?”

*~*~*~*

His outer layer was neatly folded and beside the bed, hair was tucked into the back of his shirt and hers tied with a torn strip from her top. Behind them, the fire continued to brightly blazed, keeping the bed and cave warm and well-lit, the blankets and his findings were shifted to make extra room.

“Trust me, my lady.” Soothingly and comfortingly, he spoke and encouraged her to do just that. “Masamune has not harmed you before, I highly doubt she will now.” That never ceased to amaze him. The few who dared handle his sword had usually ended up severely injured, or worse and yet, at fifteen, Tifa Lockhart had came at him with her.

“She?” The brunette looked at him over her shoulder.

“Masamune. Now hush.”

“Figures. What is it with men and naming their weapons?” Something told her she didn’t want to know that particular answer.

“Premium Heart, Tifa?” The question held a high amount of amusement that left her stumped for a reply. Turning the light moment serious, he cleared his throat and motioned for her to be quiet.

Bracing and bending her arms into position, Sephiroth tightened their grip around the hilt of Masamune, cautious not to do her harm. While her body shivered, her breathing was calm and hands were steady. Sliding his knee between her legs and moving them further apart, the general got her form perfect. “Good girl.” His praise whispered erotically into the delicate shell of her ear.

“Thanks.” Not entirely sure what to expect, Tifa willed herself to trust the one person she never thought possible and relaxed into his chest, allowing him total control over her.

“Inhale.” Sephiroth instructed and she complied. Her arms were slowly brought back as he moved her left shoulder forward, all the while keeping the balance. “Exhale slowly,” and she did. A graceful arc had the lethal sword swooping dangerously close to her face, the air sliced against the sharpened blade.

As the air was fully expelled from her lungs, Tifa felt something inside shift but couldn’t place it. “Again?” She asked when he returned their arms to the starting position.

“Yes. Inhale.” Arms gently pulled back and left shoulder forward. “Exhale.” The arc was made only this time, the sword missed her face and Sephiroth smiled in satisfaction. “Better.”

Every time she exhaled, her body seemed to throb with a growing intensity she had never experienced but she liked it. Adjusting her grip around Masamune and concentrating harder, Tifa gave a simple nod, indicating she was ready.

His palm slid up to her left elbow, skin roughened through years of use licked fire over the softer surface of her arm. Strong fingers closed round and he shifted, bringing her right limb out straight and left bent at the joint. “I will lead, you follow.” Nudging her right wrist and swooping low, the sword elegantly slashed the air as she exhaled. Sephiroth sharply inhaled as he felt the tremor rush through her.

The dance, so slow and full of ease, was the most erotic thing she had ever felt. A rush of heat burned at the apex of her legs and her lungs stung with laboured breaths. She was starting to shake in his arms and she couldn’t stop wanting more. Behind shut eyelids, fantasies hot enough to blind the sun, were seen and wanted. Visions of him, of Sephiroth, naked and sweat-slicked above her, played over and over. The feel of him, hard and heavy, piercing her core ran right through her and every nerve stung in response.

He didn’t have to see her face to know her eyes were closed and cheeks were flushed. He didn’t have to see her chest to know her nipples were hard and wanting. He didn’t have to touch between her supple thighs to know her panties were wet with arousal. He didn’t have to hear her voice to know she was holding back a plea for more.

Naturally masculine and spicy, his scent enveloped her and assaulted her senses. His chest, broad and powerful, gave warmth and comfort. His arms, muscular and proportioned, held and kept her safe. Moist and hardened, lips teased her neck with wispy kisses as blunt teeth taunted with tender bites. Fingers tightened around her arms as the grip on Masamune loosened.

“Tifa?” Sephiroth’s voice, erotic and heated, brushed her cheek.

“Yeah?” She had to remember to breathe.

“Kiss me.”

*~*~*~*

No sooner had that left his mouth than a hand cupped her cheek, turning her to face to his. Hovering close enough to tease and tantalise hers, his lips flickered up into a knowing and arrogant smirk. “I will have you tonight, my lady. Do not fight me.”

“No…”

Bruising her softer pout, his mouth covered and controlled, his tongue dipped past her parted pout, desperate to savour the taste. Unceremoniously, the sword was dropped and he cared less. Spinning the girl round and crushing her to him, Sephiroth deepened the kiss until she began to respond. Her hands, feminine and well-cared for, smoothed up his chest to curl around his neck and her breasts were pressed tight to his pectorals, pert nipples rubbed against the solid wall of his torso.

Leaving her gasping for air and glassy-eyed, he pulled back from her tempting mouth. “Tell me yes, Tifa.” The general hissed, darkening storms replaced his eyes as he stared, unrelenting, down at her. “I want you to give in to me.”

“If I don’t?”

“I will have you beg for me.”