Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Sanctuary ❯ Chapter 2
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Arigatomina 
Slight shonen ai.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.17.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 4.2K | Visits: 803 | Status: Work In Progress
Slight shonen ai.
Non Anime: Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Romance / Hentai / Action | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.17.2002 | Pages: 1 | Words: 4.2K | Visits: 803 | Status: Work In Progress
Category: Game, Final Fantasy 7, Yaoi, TWT
Warnings: slight violence, hints of shonen ai
Pairings: will be SephirothxVincent
Author: Arigatomina
Email: arigatomina@hotmail.com
Website/Complete Archive: http://www.geocities.com/arigatomina
Sanctuary
Part 2
No matter how high the sun got over the mountain, the warmth never penetrated the copious wood. Once again, Vincent was forced to appreciate the thick cloak he'd been provided with during his enforced hibernation. The dark red material was held closed over his shoulders and did some work in sheltering his bare arms. But his lips were numb, and he fully expected frost to begin clinging to his nose where warm breaths floated within his vision. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been outdoors without the cloak fully closed, and he glared at the misted air. It was bad enough Sephiroth had cast the manipulation spell over him, but the least the man could do was allow him *some* movement. The only thing he had control over was his breathing, and his eyes. And his eyes were locked straight ahead so he wouldn't have to look at the man responsible for his condition. As angry as he was at the man, part of that anger was also directed at himself. He'd fought in countless battles, but he'd never once suspected he had a weakness to manipulation spells. His ribbon prevented all status affects, and he'd assumed, like a fool, that its power included a block on manipulation spells as well. He should have known better.
They were making good time, as far as Vincent could tell, but Sephiroth was obviously in no rush. He didn't understand that. The man could easily have forced him to a faster pace, and he'd have been physically able to run for quite a while before giving out, but he hadn't. In fact, they were going slower than he'd have preferred. Though he couldn't tilt his head to look, Vincent had an idea that his steel-toed boots were caked in ice as well as snow. They simply weren't walking fast enough to conserve body heat. It made him wonder if Jenova's cells hadn't given the white-haired man some sort of immunity to the elements. Not that it mattered. Freezing to death was preferable to taking the swordsman to his destination. One way or another, Vincent was determined not to make it through the trip. He was never setting foot inside Nibelheim again, and he certainly wasn't going to be slain by Sephiroth within those walls. No matter what the man had planned, it would not happen.
Although Sephiroth had never actually used a manipulation spell on a human, he was getting rather good at it. He no longer even had to look at the black-haired man in order to control him, and he strolled along after his captive, his gaze shifting lazily over the forest. It was so quiet. He'd expected a dangerous place, thriving with monsters. But he hadn't glimpsed a single one in the last four hours, not even tracks. It made him wonder if the clash between Meteor, Holy, and the Lifestream hadn't cleaned the life from the land around the crater. If that were the case, then he realized he would be in trouble long before they reached the Icicle Inn. He'd been frozen for so long that he shouldn't have had human urges, but he couldn't help himself. After being awake and active all morning, he was starving. And he had yet to see a single creature, let alone one worth eating. Of course, he could wait. He doubted he would die of hunger, but it was irritating. When they'd set out he'd hoped they wouldn't be slowed down by monsters, and now he was angry that there weren't any. And his own empty stomach made him wonder how his captive was doing.
He didn't know anything about the man, not even his name. He'd obviously had some tie with Hojo, but many people had ties with the late scientist. Sephiroth knew Cloud had picked the man up somewhere, but compared to the other oddities the boy had teamed up with, the black-haired man was almost normal. Thinking of Cloud, he frowned at the snow-laden ground, pushing his captive on absent-mindedly. He was amazed the boy had gotten so strong. The last time he'd seen him...so long ago, he hadn't even had the strength to be a Soldier. To think, that boy had defeated him despite Jenova's powers. He'd never have thought he had the potential for such a thing.
The ground sloped down ahead of them, and Sephiroth slowed their pace, his mind focusing on his footing. There were fewer trees on the grade, the snow thick enough to reach the edges of his high boots. While he wasn't in a hurry, he frowned at the nuisance, tempted to use a fire spell to clear the snow. He actually thought about that for a moment or two, wondering what the black-haired man would think if he did. His eyes shifted to the man in question just as his feet slid beneath him. With wide eyes, Sephiroth skidded to a halt, one leg buried to the knee in a burrow of snow. He was staring in disgust and almost missed his captive's descent. One moment the black-haired man was walking a few feet to his left, and the next he was on his back nearly three yards down the hill. Sephiroth blinked once before throwing his head back with a sharp laugh. Pulling his own leg free of the snow-hidden hole, he edged to the side and made his way carefully down to stand over the fallen man. Wide red eyes filled the man's face and he snickered again, breaking into full laughter when those eyes narrowed to glare at him.
Vincent really wasn't sure what had just happened, but the one thing he knew was that the man's laughter was definitely not called for. There was nothing funny about his position, nothing at all. He simply didn't understand why the white-haired man found it so hilarious. Snow was touching his arms, his cloak bundled beneath him from the slide, and he could feel icy wetness melting into his clothing. His angry glare only seemed to spur Sephiroth on and he closed his eyes, deep breaths helping to calm him. If the idiot wanted to laugh at him, then there was no point being embarrassed about it. After all, he wasn't the one who'd missed his step. Sephiroth was to blame for the navigation, not him. Despite his calming breaths, his fingers curled into fists and Vincent frowned suddenly. He could still hear the man's quiet laughter, but he could also move. And oddly enough, he wasn't sure if he wanted to. If he stood the man would cast the spell on him again, but if he remained he would catch pneumonia. After a moment of thought, he cleared his expression and uncurled his hands, remaining absolutely still.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard, but Sephiroth's smile faded slowly when the man lay motionless on the snow. He'd loosened his control so his captive could extricate himself. But he didn't. That pale face was absolutely blank when he frowned down at him, and Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. It couldn't be comfortable. "Did you break something?" he asked, his lips twitching into a dark smirk when those black eyebrows lowered, a frown breaking over that seemingly emotionless face. Red eyes flicked open to glare at him and his smirk widened. Crouching next to the fallen man, he tilted his head to the side and glanced over the red and black-clothed figure. "Taking a nap?" The glare darkened and he plucked at the man's red cloak, feeling the thick material with a suggestive wink. "It doesn't look comfortable, but I could use a break myself. Maybe I should join you." The words had no more left his lips than the man jerked away, sitting up and glaring hateful red eyes at him. Sephiroth smiled back. "Guess not."
Teeth clenching painfully, Vincent kept his eyes away from that bright, glittering gaze. The man seemed to enjoy tormenting him, and he knew he'd just given in, but there was no way he'd lay there with Sephiroth leaning over him like that. His left hand was numb by the time he pushed himself up, and the fingerless glove on his right protected nothing but his palm, but he was beyond caring. That quick soaking would be enough to affect him, even if it wasn't enough to actually incapacitate him. Sephiroth didn't speak, and he pushed himself to his feet, not looking back at the man. For a second he wasn't sure what to do with his brief freedom, but a deep breath told him. His benumbed hands fumbled over the clasps, but he managed to close the top of his cloak just as the white-haired man moved in front of him, golden orb in his palm.
Red eyes glared at him over the top of the man's red cloak, and Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him. "Now why would you do that?" he murmured, his lips twisting into a mocking smirk. "Your glare's hardly intimidating, under the circumstances, and I must say, you look better with it undone." The man said nothing, and Sephiroth lifted his manipulation materia, brushing a black-gloved hand over the smooth surface as he held the man's gaze. "I can always undo it again," he reminded him, tossing the orb from palm to palm. Those red eyes shifted down to follow the movement and he stopped, waiting until the man glanced up again. "Give me a name," he prodded, "and I won't."
That was a surprise, not the fact that Sephiroth didn't know his name, but the revelation that the man couldn't force him to speak. Vincent had never used a manipulation materia on an intelligent creature, as far as he knew, but the ones he had done it to had obeyed every order. It was nice to know the limits. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him, tossing that orb back and forth again, and Vincent thought about the offer for three entire seconds. Telling the man his name was much preferable to having his face uncovered beneath those bright eyes, and especially in this weather. While he wasn't averse to freezing, he preferred to go out at least partially comfortable. The cloak filtered his breaths and kept the biting cold from his throat and lungs. That was an added benefit. With a dark glare, he answered. "Vincent."
"Vincent...Vincent." Shifting in the snow, Sephiroth's eyes narrowed a bit as he frowned at the man. "Why does that name sound familiar?" The black-haired man stared at him, his expression hidden by that high collar, and Sephiroth rolled the name in his mind, looking for a connection. "Vincent. Vincent...Valentine." The man flinched back with wide eyes and Sephiroth's lips curved into a wide smirk. "Ah, that's you, is it? Yes, I've seen that name...in Nibelheim. Hojo's files..." Vincent's eyes looked odd, and he frowned when the man closed them suddenly. "What *is* your connection to Hojo...Vincent?" Stepping forward, Sephiroth waited for a moment before his gaze darkened with a soft snort. "Playing mute again, are you? Fine. I'm sure the files are still in Nibelheim. I'll have to remember to check them when we get there."
That was one more reason to make certain he never reached Nibelheim. Even with his eyes closed, Vincent felt the spell when it fell over him again, starbursts flashing for a second behind his eyelids. But he wouldn't bother to look. He didn't have to see to be moved like a puppet. Silence told him that Sephiroth hadn't moved yet, and he felt a cool wind ruffle his hair and cloak as he waited. A soft crunch sounded when the man stepped on slightly frosted snow and his eyes snapped open as he felt hands on his collar. Pale blue-green eyes glinted above a mocking smile, and he stared in angry disbelief.
It only took a moment to undo those clasps. Stepping back again, Sephiroth shook his head at Vincent's outraged glare. "If you don't want to...play nice...why should I? Besides," he drawled, enjoying the man's blatant anger, "you do look better like that." Those red eyes narrowed, but he merely smiled before moving aside and prodding the man onward. He had really meant the deal when he'd proposed the trade, but something about the man's stubborn silence annoyed him. That, added to the truth of his own comment, voided him of any guilt over the lie. Though Vincent started a few steps ahead of him, Sephiroth slowed the man so he could lead the way this time. As much fun as that little incident had been, it would cost them half a day. The moment he found something to kill, he'd have to use the cooking fire to dry his captive out before he froze to death. Remembering how the stubborn man had lain so still in the snow, Sephiroth shook his head with a small smile. This really was turning out to be more entertaining than he'd ever have thought.
* * *
The landscape smoothed into a long white stretch that signaled the end of the forest. And it was obvious why there were not trees since the snow had packed hard against solid rock. It made the travel easer in part, since there was less worry of hidden holes, but the wind rushed along the bare landscape with enough force that even Sephiroth felt the cold. But stopping really wasn't an option. After another hour of open air, they made it to a slight cliff without incidence. The bare rock was only ten feet above the snow below, so they jumped down and Sephiroth gave in to the weather long enough for a slight pause. The snowy field they were on was shielded to either side by cliffs that formed a sort of tunnel, and he knew it led straight down to the Icicle Inn.
Vincent's eyes were closed when Sephiroth looked at him, and he wondered at that. The man didn't need to see, but it was odd to have him walking blind like that. It made him wonder if he could sleep while being manipulated. But he seriously doubted his captive were sleeping. No, the man was simply ignoring him the only way he could, and it amused him too much to complain. He was cold and hungry, but the sun was high overhead. When they stopped, it would have to be for the night, so Sephiroth didn't want to pause now. Instead, he hesitated long enough to loosen his control over the spell, just a bit. Those eyes remained closed as he folded his arms over his chest and watched Vincent. "And how are you holding out?"
He was not going to answer. Even if his lips hadn't been frozen together, Vincent would not have answered the man. Actually, he wasn't as cold as he'd have thought. His change must have included some extra resistance against prolonged exposure to cold weather, because Vincent didn't feel nearly as bad as he'd expected, and hoped. And now that he'd thought about it, he hadn't been affected as much as the others when Cloud had first led them up this same path. He should have known he wouldn't be susceptible to a weakness when he actually *wanted* to be. Something touched his face, and his eyes opened automatically, his vision blurred for a second. Then he blinked in more surprise than anything when a finger tapped the clear skin between his eyes, just below his ribbon.
"Are you frozen?" Sephiroth smirked, his eyes glinting merrily. He really was enjoying this more than he'd expected to. Red eyes blinked at him, and he pulled his hand away. "You won't be much good to me frozen," he commented, running gloved fingers through his long silvery-white hair as he perused the man. "No, that would be an inconvenience for both of us."
The man's tone was odd, much different from the deadly taunts Vincent remembered so well. And now that he thought about it he had to admit Sephiroth had been acting odd since he first woke up to find the man alive. It made him wonder briefly if this were the Sephiroth Cloud had known so long ago. But he didn't pause on that thought for long, his eyes flicking away with a dull glare. "You'd have to find someone else," he said coldly. He couldn't move his head, but he managed a fiery glare when Sephiroth tugged on his hair, the man's smile making him more angry than anything else. Whether Sephiroth had changed or not, the man was definitely just as twisted as ever, enjoying this entrapment.
"Why would I want someone else?" Sephiroth murmured, his hand twisting around thick black hair. He glanced down at that for a second, turning his palm to look at the dark strands before smirking again. "You work as well as any, and we have something in common, don't we." Red eyes narrowed in definite, if dark, confusion. "Cloud? Meteor?" Vincent glared at him and he shrugged lightly, letting go of that thick hair. "We were on opposite sides, but it still counts. There's no reason I should have to find a stranger to be my...escort." There was little give to the man's glare and Sephiroth stepped back, waving his hand and prodding his captive forward. "If you loosen up a bit, you might even enjoy this little romp. I certainly plan to."
He had to be kidding. Vincent didn't say it, but the thought smoldered in his mind as he glared ahead of him, not looking at the man who passed him casually. He didn't know what to make of Sephiroth, but the villain was acting in a way that both confused him, and made him wary. The only thing he was sure of was that Sephiroth *was* enjoying himself. That much was painfully obvious. And the man was right about their connection. Though he had no intention of continuing his role until they reached Nibelheim, Vincent was aware that he would fair better than any normal person. If he didn't detest the place so much, he might have considered this a punishment of sorts. Certainly it was better for him to be the one 'escorting' Sephiroth, rather than allowing some innocent bystander to take his place. But he was not going to volunteer for it, not this time. A sound caught his ear, and he glanced to the side, watching the cliff wall to his right. Obviously he held something over Sephiroth. The man didn't seem to hear their trackers.
The little white monster got close enough to attack before Sephiroth spotted it against the snow, and he had his sword in hand immediately. He recognized the species of violent, Jumping Rabbit, but there was nothing to worry about from it. The creatures were eager enough to attack monsters much larger than them, but they lacked the strength to do any real damage. The two foot hopping monster darted straight at him, and he caught it when it suddenly veered to the side. One flick of his sword and red coated the fur and snow the same color as Vincent's cloak. And he saw the similarity because the man in question fell at the same moment as the Jumping, a large Bandersnatch crouched on top of him. The wolfish monster bared bloody fangs at him, obviously thinking its prey dead since Vincent was absolutely immobile. Sephiroth glared back at the ignorant creature and swiped his sword through the golden mane that flowed back from the wolf's neck. He'd no more than severed the thing before multiple growls set up in the cold air, nearly half a dozen more wolves leaping down from the cliffs to either side of him.
Although Vincent had planned to do nothing to prevent the ambush, his arm lifted when the control over him disappeared. One of the wolves leapt for his throat and he thrust his left arm up instead, his teeth clenching when it was latched onto. He was still on his back after that first leaping attack, and he rolled away from the wall, his narrowed eyes noting exactly who was the target of the pack. His prone position made him the prey, and he growled in fury at his weakness, only vaguely aware of the fight going on a foot away. Snapping jaws tore at his shoulders, not quite making it through his thick cloak, and he ducked his head, arms held up to protect the back of his neck. This was *not* how he wanted to die.
All Sephiroth had ever heard of the Bandersnatch species was that they attacked in pairs. Obviously that was on normal occasions. There were so many of the bastards he couldn't help wondering where they'd come from. The terrain was so stark they were feral in hunger, and he was surprised they hadn't taken to killing each other, rather than ganging up into such a large pack. These quick thoughts accompanied his movements, each swipe of his sword killing one, sometimes two wolves. He would have simplified the entire thing with a magic attack, but they seemed to flow directly to Vincent, and no matter how strong the man's inherent resistance to magic was, he couldn't take the risk. Three minutes passed before he stabbed the last one, and Sephiroth glared glittering blue-green eyes to the cliffs lining their path, almost daring more to come.
By the time he pushed himself up, Vincent was thoroughly disgusted. Aside from his bare arms, he retained almost no injury from the attack. And it had been the perfect way out of this mess. If he'd simply held still, he might have built up enough battle experience to use his limit break. Now, all he'd managed to do was to tear his arms into lovely ribbons of flesh and blood. He didn't bother to look up as he wrapped his cloak around his left arm, the snow-dampened cloth absorbing the color without any noticeable change. If he'd wanted to avoid injury, he should have thought more about throwing his arm out. He'd forgotten the glove was gone. A hand entered his line of vision and he jerked back, glaring when he found Sephiroth crouching in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Looking at the wrapped arm, Sephiroth blinked when a hand caught his wrist, holding it away from his target. Red eyes were glaring darkly at him and his lips twitched as he in caught Vincent's wrist with his free hand. He held the man's eyes, tightening his own hold until they narrowed and his arm was freed. "Now be still," Sephiroth smirked, pushing the hand down on Vincent's bent leg. The red material clung when he pulled it away from the wound, and he grimaced. "Nasty. But easily fixed." Vincent's belligerent glare disappeared when he pulled out a heal materia and he frowned at the man. "What?"
"Why-"
Snorting, Sephiroth cast the spell and stood, wiping snow off his coat. "You're no good to me if you bleed to death. Besides, with all the blood here the rest of the monsters in this area won't bother us." The man was still staring at him and he smirked, reaching into his coat for his manipulation materia. It only took a moment to cast it again, and he waited as Vincent obediently retrieved the Jumping he'd killed earlier. The monster had drained enough that it probably wouldn't emit enough of a scent to attract more wolves, but he still let Vincent move ahead of him this time. The attack had come so quickly that he was almost surprised at himself. He should have been expecting it, and his carelessness had almost made him lose his escort. It was pure luck the first Bandersnatch hadn't killed the man. As busy as he'd been with the other wolves, Sephiroth knew he would have had trouble casting a revive spell in time to bring the man back if that happened. From now on, he'd have his captive in front of him, at least until they got out of this area.
Most monsters didn't attack so quietly, but he was sure he could handle the next batch better. The pack had obviously kept below the edge of the high cliff walls, putting any oncoming attackers at a distance where he could use magic without any worries. But he was hoping that wouldn't be necessary. After he put a mile or so between them and the dead Bandersnatches, he fully intended to set up camp and cook that rabid rabbit monster. His eyes glinted as he looked over Vincent's back, wondering if the man were as hungry as him. He'd just have to allow him the pleasure of trying it out first, just in case.
* * *
TBC
Warnings: slight violence, hints of shonen ai
Pairings: will be SephirothxVincent
Author: Arigatomina
Email: arigatomina@hotmail.com
Website/Complete Archive: http://www.geocities.com/arigatomina
Sanctuary
Part 2
No matter how high the sun got over the mountain, the warmth never penetrated the copious wood. Once again, Vincent was forced to appreciate the thick cloak he'd been provided with during his enforced hibernation. The dark red material was held closed over his shoulders and did some work in sheltering his bare arms. But his lips were numb, and he fully expected frost to begin clinging to his nose where warm breaths floated within his vision. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been outdoors without the cloak fully closed, and he glared at the misted air. It was bad enough Sephiroth had cast the manipulation spell over him, but the least the man could do was allow him *some* movement. The only thing he had control over was his breathing, and his eyes. And his eyes were locked straight ahead so he wouldn't have to look at the man responsible for his condition. As angry as he was at the man, part of that anger was also directed at himself. He'd fought in countless battles, but he'd never once suspected he had a weakness to manipulation spells. His ribbon prevented all status affects, and he'd assumed, like a fool, that its power included a block on manipulation spells as well. He should have known better.
They were making good time, as far as Vincent could tell, but Sephiroth was obviously in no rush. He didn't understand that. The man could easily have forced him to a faster pace, and he'd have been physically able to run for quite a while before giving out, but he hadn't. In fact, they were going slower than he'd have preferred. Though he couldn't tilt his head to look, Vincent had an idea that his steel-toed boots were caked in ice as well as snow. They simply weren't walking fast enough to conserve body heat. It made him wonder if Jenova's cells hadn't given the white-haired man some sort of immunity to the elements. Not that it mattered. Freezing to death was preferable to taking the swordsman to his destination. One way or another, Vincent was determined not to make it through the trip. He was never setting foot inside Nibelheim again, and he certainly wasn't going to be slain by Sephiroth within those walls. No matter what the man had planned, it would not happen.
Although Sephiroth had never actually used a manipulation spell on a human, he was getting rather good at it. He no longer even had to look at the black-haired man in order to control him, and he strolled along after his captive, his gaze shifting lazily over the forest. It was so quiet. He'd expected a dangerous place, thriving with monsters. But he hadn't glimpsed a single one in the last four hours, not even tracks. It made him wonder if the clash between Meteor, Holy, and the Lifestream hadn't cleaned the life from the land around the crater. If that were the case, then he realized he would be in trouble long before they reached the Icicle Inn. He'd been frozen for so long that he shouldn't have had human urges, but he couldn't help himself. After being awake and active all morning, he was starving. And he had yet to see a single creature, let alone one worth eating. Of course, he could wait. He doubted he would die of hunger, but it was irritating. When they'd set out he'd hoped they wouldn't be slowed down by monsters, and now he was angry that there weren't any. And his own empty stomach made him wonder how his captive was doing.
He didn't know anything about the man, not even his name. He'd obviously had some tie with Hojo, but many people had ties with the late scientist. Sephiroth knew Cloud had picked the man up somewhere, but compared to the other oddities the boy had teamed up with, the black-haired man was almost normal. Thinking of Cloud, he frowned at the snow-laden ground, pushing his captive on absent-mindedly. He was amazed the boy had gotten so strong. The last time he'd seen him...so long ago, he hadn't even had the strength to be a Soldier. To think, that boy had defeated him despite Jenova's powers. He'd never have thought he had the potential for such a thing.
The ground sloped down ahead of them, and Sephiroth slowed their pace, his mind focusing on his footing. There were fewer trees on the grade, the snow thick enough to reach the edges of his high boots. While he wasn't in a hurry, he frowned at the nuisance, tempted to use a fire spell to clear the snow. He actually thought about that for a moment or two, wondering what the black-haired man would think if he did. His eyes shifted to the man in question just as his feet slid beneath him. With wide eyes, Sephiroth skidded to a halt, one leg buried to the knee in a burrow of snow. He was staring in disgust and almost missed his captive's descent. One moment the black-haired man was walking a few feet to his left, and the next he was on his back nearly three yards down the hill. Sephiroth blinked once before throwing his head back with a sharp laugh. Pulling his own leg free of the snow-hidden hole, he edged to the side and made his way carefully down to stand over the fallen man. Wide red eyes filled the man's face and he snickered again, breaking into full laughter when those eyes narrowed to glare at him.
Vincent really wasn't sure what had just happened, but the one thing he knew was that the man's laughter was definitely not called for. There was nothing funny about his position, nothing at all. He simply didn't understand why the white-haired man found it so hilarious. Snow was touching his arms, his cloak bundled beneath him from the slide, and he could feel icy wetness melting into his clothing. His angry glare only seemed to spur Sephiroth on and he closed his eyes, deep breaths helping to calm him. If the idiot wanted to laugh at him, then there was no point being embarrassed about it. After all, he wasn't the one who'd missed his step. Sephiroth was to blame for the navigation, not him. Despite his calming breaths, his fingers curled into fists and Vincent frowned suddenly. He could still hear the man's quiet laughter, but he could also move. And oddly enough, he wasn't sure if he wanted to. If he stood the man would cast the spell on him again, but if he remained he would catch pneumonia. After a moment of thought, he cleared his expression and uncurled his hands, remaining absolutely still.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed so hard, but Sephiroth's smile faded slowly when the man lay motionless on the snow. He'd loosened his control so his captive could extricate himself. But he didn't. That pale face was absolutely blank when he frowned down at him, and Sephiroth raised an eyebrow. It couldn't be comfortable. "Did you break something?" he asked, his lips twitching into a dark smirk when those black eyebrows lowered, a frown breaking over that seemingly emotionless face. Red eyes flicked open to glare at him and his smirk widened. Crouching next to the fallen man, he tilted his head to the side and glanced over the red and black-clothed figure. "Taking a nap?" The glare darkened and he plucked at the man's red cloak, feeling the thick material with a suggestive wink. "It doesn't look comfortable, but I could use a break myself. Maybe I should join you." The words had no more left his lips than the man jerked away, sitting up and glaring hateful red eyes at him. Sephiroth smiled back. "Guess not."
Teeth clenching painfully, Vincent kept his eyes away from that bright, glittering gaze. The man seemed to enjoy tormenting him, and he knew he'd just given in, but there was no way he'd lay there with Sephiroth leaning over him like that. His left hand was numb by the time he pushed himself up, and the fingerless glove on his right protected nothing but his palm, but he was beyond caring. That quick soaking would be enough to affect him, even if it wasn't enough to actually incapacitate him. Sephiroth didn't speak, and he pushed himself to his feet, not looking back at the man. For a second he wasn't sure what to do with his brief freedom, but a deep breath told him. His benumbed hands fumbled over the clasps, but he managed to close the top of his cloak just as the white-haired man moved in front of him, golden orb in his palm.
Red eyes glared at him over the top of the man's red cloak, and Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him. "Now why would you do that?" he murmured, his lips twisting into a mocking smirk. "Your glare's hardly intimidating, under the circumstances, and I must say, you look better with it undone." The man said nothing, and Sephiroth lifted his manipulation materia, brushing a black-gloved hand over the smooth surface as he held the man's gaze. "I can always undo it again," he reminded him, tossing the orb from palm to palm. Those red eyes shifted down to follow the movement and he stopped, waiting until the man glanced up again. "Give me a name," he prodded, "and I won't."
That was a surprise, not the fact that Sephiroth didn't know his name, but the revelation that the man couldn't force him to speak. Vincent had never used a manipulation materia on an intelligent creature, as far as he knew, but the ones he had done it to had obeyed every order. It was nice to know the limits. Sephiroth raised an eyebrow at him, tossing that orb back and forth again, and Vincent thought about the offer for three entire seconds. Telling the man his name was much preferable to having his face uncovered beneath those bright eyes, and especially in this weather. While he wasn't averse to freezing, he preferred to go out at least partially comfortable. The cloak filtered his breaths and kept the biting cold from his throat and lungs. That was an added benefit. With a dark glare, he answered. "Vincent."
"Vincent...Vincent." Shifting in the snow, Sephiroth's eyes narrowed a bit as he frowned at the man. "Why does that name sound familiar?" The black-haired man stared at him, his expression hidden by that high collar, and Sephiroth rolled the name in his mind, looking for a connection. "Vincent. Vincent...Valentine." The man flinched back with wide eyes and Sephiroth's lips curved into a wide smirk. "Ah, that's you, is it? Yes, I've seen that name...in Nibelheim. Hojo's files..." Vincent's eyes looked odd, and he frowned when the man closed them suddenly. "What *is* your connection to Hojo...Vincent?" Stepping forward, Sephiroth waited for a moment before his gaze darkened with a soft snort. "Playing mute again, are you? Fine. I'm sure the files are still in Nibelheim. I'll have to remember to check them when we get there."
That was one more reason to make certain he never reached Nibelheim. Even with his eyes closed, Vincent felt the spell when it fell over him again, starbursts flashing for a second behind his eyelids. But he wouldn't bother to look. He didn't have to see to be moved like a puppet. Silence told him that Sephiroth hadn't moved yet, and he felt a cool wind ruffle his hair and cloak as he waited. A soft crunch sounded when the man stepped on slightly frosted snow and his eyes snapped open as he felt hands on his collar. Pale blue-green eyes glinted above a mocking smile, and he stared in angry disbelief.
It only took a moment to undo those clasps. Stepping back again, Sephiroth shook his head at Vincent's outraged glare. "If you don't want to...play nice...why should I? Besides," he drawled, enjoying the man's blatant anger, "you do look better like that." Those red eyes narrowed, but he merely smiled before moving aside and prodding the man onward. He had really meant the deal when he'd proposed the trade, but something about the man's stubborn silence annoyed him. That, added to the truth of his own comment, voided him of any guilt over the lie. Though Vincent started a few steps ahead of him, Sephiroth slowed the man so he could lead the way this time. As much fun as that little incident had been, it would cost them half a day. The moment he found something to kill, he'd have to use the cooking fire to dry his captive out before he froze to death. Remembering how the stubborn man had lain so still in the snow, Sephiroth shook his head with a small smile. This really was turning out to be more entertaining than he'd ever have thought.
* * *
The landscape smoothed into a long white stretch that signaled the end of the forest. And it was obvious why there were not trees since the snow had packed hard against solid rock. It made the travel easer in part, since there was less worry of hidden holes, but the wind rushed along the bare landscape with enough force that even Sephiroth felt the cold. But stopping really wasn't an option. After another hour of open air, they made it to a slight cliff without incidence. The bare rock was only ten feet above the snow below, so they jumped down and Sephiroth gave in to the weather long enough for a slight pause. The snowy field they were on was shielded to either side by cliffs that formed a sort of tunnel, and he knew it led straight down to the Icicle Inn.
Vincent's eyes were closed when Sephiroth looked at him, and he wondered at that. The man didn't need to see, but it was odd to have him walking blind like that. It made him wonder if he could sleep while being manipulated. But he seriously doubted his captive were sleeping. No, the man was simply ignoring him the only way he could, and it amused him too much to complain. He was cold and hungry, but the sun was high overhead. When they stopped, it would have to be for the night, so Sephiroth didn't want to pause now. Instead, he hesitated long enough to loosen his control over the spell, just a bit. Those eyes remained closed as he folded his arms over his chest and watched Vincent. "And how are you holding out?"
He was not going to answer. Even if his lips hadn't been frozen together, Vincent would not have answered the man. Actually, he wasn't as cold as he'd have thought. His change must have included some extra resistance against prolonged exposure to cold weather, because Vincent didn't feel nearly as bad as he'd expected, and hoped. And now that he'd thought about it, he hadn't been affected as much as the others when Cloud had first led them up this same path. He should have known he wouldn't be susceptible to a weakness when he actually *wanted* to be. Something touched his face, and his eyes opened automatically, his vision blurred for a second. Then he blinked in more surprise than anything when a finger tapped the clear skin between his eyes, just below his ribbon.
"Are you frozen?" Sephiroth smirked, his eyes glinting merrily. He really was enjoying this more than he'd expected to. Red eyes blinked at him, and he pulled his hand away. "You won't be much good to me frozen," he commented, running gloved fingers through his long silvery-white hair as he perused the man. "No, that would be an inconvenience for both of us."
The man's tone was odd, much different from the deadly taunts Vincent remembered so well. And now that he thought about it he had to admit Sephiroth had been acting odd since he first woke up to find the man alive. It made him wonder briefly if this were the Sephiroth Cloud had known so long ago. But he didn't pause on that thought for long, his eyes flicking away with a dull glare. "You'd have to find someone else," he said coldly. He couldn't move his head, but he managed a fiery glare when Sephiroth tugged on his hair, the man's smile making him more angry than anything else. Whether Sephiroth had changed or not, the man was definitely just as twisted as ever, enjoying this entrapment.
"Why would I want someone else?" Sephiroth murmured, his hand twisting around thick black hair. He glanced down at that for a second, turning his palm to look at the dark strands before smirking again. "You work as well as any, and we have something in common, don't we." Red eyes narrowed in definite, if dark, confusion. "Cloud? Meteor?" Vincent glared at him and he shrugged lightly, letting go of that thick hair. "We were on opposite sides, but it still counts. There's no reason I should have to find a stranger to be my...escort." There was little give to the man's glare and Sephiroth stepped back, waving his hand and prodding his captive forward. "If you loosen up a bit, you might even enjoy this little romp. I certainly plan to."
He had to be kidding. Vincent didn't say it, but the thought smoldered in his mind as he glared ahead of him, not looking at the man who passed him casually. He didn't know what to make of Sephiroth, but the villain was acting in a way that both confused him, and made him wary. The only thing he was sure of was that Sephiroth *was* enjoying himself. That much was painfully obvious. And the man was right about their connection. Though he had no intention of continuing his role until they reached Nibelheim, Vincent was aware that he would fair better than any normal person. If he didn't detest the place so much, he might have considered this a punishment of sorts. Certainly it was better for him to be the one 'escorting' Sephiroth, rather than allowing some innocent bystander to take his place. But he was not going to volunteer for it, not this time. A sound caught his ear, and he glanced to the side, watching the cliff wall to his right. Obviously he held something over Sephiroth. The man didn't seem to hear their trackers.
The little white monster got close enough to attack before Sephiroth spotted it against the snow, and he had his sword in hand immediately. He recognized the species of violent, Jumping Rabbit, but there was nothing to worry about from it. The creatures were eager enough to attack monsters much larger than them, but they lacked the strength to do any real damage. The two foot hopping monster darted straight at him, and he caught it when it suddenly veered to the side. One flick of his sword and red coated the fur and snow the same color as Vincent's cloak. And he saw the similarity because the man in question fell at the same moment as the Jumping, a large Bandersnatch crouched on top of him. The wolfish monster bared bloody fangs at him, obviously thinking its prey dead since Vincent was absolutely immobile. Sephiroth glared back at the ignorant creature and swiped his sword through the golden mane that flowed back from the wolf's neck. He'd no more than severed the thing before multiple growls set up in the cold air, nearly half a dozen more wolves leaping down from the cliffs to either side of him.
Although Vincent had planned to do nothing to prevent the ambush, his arm lifted when the control over him disappeared. One of the wolves leapt for his throat and he thrust his left arm up instead, his teeth clenching when it was latched onto. He was still on his back after that first leaping attack, and he rolled away from the wall, his narrowed eyes noting exactly who was the target of the pack. His prone position made him the prey, and he growled in fury at his weakness, only vaguely aware of the fight going on a foot away. Snapping jaws tore at his shoulders, not quite making it through his thick cloak, and he ducked his head, arms held up to protect the back of his neck. This was *not* how he wanted to die.
All Sephiroth had ever heard of the Bandersnatch species was that they attacked in pairs. Obviously that was on normal occasions. There were so many of the bastards he couldn't help wondering where they'd come from. The terrain was so stark they were feral in hunger, and he was surprised they hadn't taken to killing each other, rather than ganging up into such a large pack. These quick thoughts accompanied his movements, each swipe of his sword killing one, sometimes two wolves. He would have simplified the entire thing with a magic attack, but they seemed to flow directly to Vincent, and no matter how strong the man's inherent resistance to magic was, he couldn't take the risk. Three minutes passed before he stabbed the last one, and Sephiroth glared glittering blue-green eyes to the cliffs lining their path, almost daring more to come.
By the time he pushed himself up, Vincent was thoroughly disgusted. Aside from his bare arms, he retained almost no injury from the attack. And it had been the perfect way out of this mess. If he'd simply held still, he might have built up enough battle experience to use his limit break. Now, all he'd managed to do was to tear his arms into lovely ribbons of flesh and blood. He didn't bother to look up as he wrapped his cloak around his left arm, the snow-dampened cloth absorbing the color without any noticeable change. If he'd wanted to avoid injury, he should have thought more about throwing his arm out. He'd forgotten the glove was gone. A hand entered his line of vision and he jerked back, glaring when he found Sephiroth crouching in front of him.
"What are you doing?" Looking at the wrapped arm, Sephiroth blinked when a hand caught his wrist, holding it away from his target. Red eyes were glaring darkly at him and his lips twitched as he in caught Vincent's wrist with his free hand. He held the man's eyes, tightening his own hold until they narrowed and his arm was freed. "Now be still," Sephiroth smirked, pushing the hand down on Vincent's bent leg. The red material clung when he pulled it away from the wound, and he grimaced. "Nasty. But easily fixed." Vincent's belligerent glare disappeared when he pulled out a heal materia and he frowned at the man. "What?"
"Why-"
Snorting, Sephiroth cast the spell and stood, wiping snow off his coat. "You're no good to me if you bleed to death. Besides, with all the blood here the rest of the monsters in this area won't bother us." The man was still staring at him and he smirked, reaching into his coat for his manipulation materia. It only took a moment to cast it again, and he waited as Vincent obediently retrieved the Jumping he'd killed earlier. The monster had drained enough that it probably wouldn't emit enough of a scent to attract more wolves, but he still let Vincent move ahead of him this time. The attack had come so quickly that he was almost surprised at himself. He should have been expecting it, and his carelessness had almost made him lose his escort. It was pure luck the first Bandersnatch hadn't killed the man. As busy as he'd been with the other wolves, Sephiroth knew he would have had trouble casting a revive spell in time to bring the man back if that happened. From now on, he'd have his captive in front of him, at least until they got out of this area.
Most monsters didn't attack so quietly, but he was sure he could handle the next batch better. The pack had obviously kept below the edge of the high cliff walls, putting any oncoming attackers at a distance where he could use magic without any worries. But he was hoping that wouldn't be necessary. After he put a mile or so between them and the dead Bandersnatches, he fully intended to set up camp and cook that rabid rabbit monster. His eyes glinted as he looked over Vincent's back, wondering if the man were as hungry as him. He'd just have to allow him the pleasure of trying it out first, just in case.
* * *
TBC