Chapter Text
The somnolence was twisting all around to bear torpor and indolence, outdoors as well as indoors in the form of a humid current despite the light drizzle persisting. The moment Cloud departed from the kitchen, he made his way to Father Barret’s personal quarters, partly expecting for the priest to still be asleep.
Reality augmented and distorted plenty for his expectations to be overturned, the older man who’d recently been operated on showing wonderful signs of a great recovery already underway. It was clear from the way he beamed up at Cloud in the doorway, smiling from one ear to the next in such a fond manner that it was surprising.
Life, color, and vivacious zeal had returned to the once sore-vexed priest, giving his cheeks a rosy tint, his dark eyes gleaming like small diamonds in the light. Breathing softly and calmly, he stretched his arms up in greeting, flashing his pearlescent teeth at Cloud.
“Good afternoon, Sister Cloud!”
There wasn’t a trace of pain, deception, dissimulation, or phony acts on display from Father Barret. One to always telegraph his misery, the signs of pain and agony were no longer displayed on his visage, his smiles too wide and cheerful by the second.
Reeling back, nostrils flaring, he was scenting the warm soup Cloud was carrying and holding on a tray, clearly pleased with the offering of food before even sampling it.
“Ahh!” Rubbing his stomach, the sheets falling lower to rest near his lap, he expressed with fervent approval, “Such a delightful treat, Sister! It smells so lovely!”
Staring at the floor, Cloud’s lips twisted in a moue of chagrin he couldn’t hold back on for long. “You’re up earlier than I thought, Father.”
Marching across the dusty floor, he hovered by the bedside, head turning around to search for a solid object he could place the tray upon.
“I assure you, I slept fully well, child.” Winding his wrist toward himself, Father Barret chuckled happily. “I’ll take that.”
Rolling his eyes and breaking out of the torpor that’d plagued himself for half the day, Cloud lowered the tray and placed it directly on Father Barret’s lap before he became irritable. Finding a stool to sit upon, he tried not to act as though Father Barret was some sort of pitiful creature or wounded animal he had to observe closely. He merely listened to the sounds the larger male created with his spoon dipping into the soup, gathering and filling it as he then brought it up to his lips.
“Oh...it’s still quite hot.”
Stating that a tad too late, Father Barret had already lapped at the spoon, his eyes widening as he sensed how hot the soup was.
Coiling back, he yelped, “Yeeeouch!”
Rubbing his lips with the back of a hand until Cloud offered him a rag, he dabbed away at the liquid drops splattering due to his jerking motions causing some of the meal to have splashed onto his sheets.
Drawing into himself, hands clasped, and knees perched up, Cloud brooked the friction internally. Leaning his chin and head on the back of his wrists, his eyes moved down to the flagrantly obvious flat part of the sheets where Father Barret’s left leg came shorter than the right one.
Spine tingling as he felt his own left foot itching, he then looked away as he asked, “Did you sleep well, Father?”
Blowing across the soup, Father Barret froze, glancing up as he then smirked. No cruelty slipped out of himself as he stated factually, “Is there something on your mind you wish to discuss or share with me?”
Pinky finger between his upper and lower teeth, Cloud lifted a brow at this. “Why do you ask?”
Snorting and then giggling lightly, Father Barret waved a hand at the bowl next, eager for it to cool down. “You’re usually quite a good listener, Sister, so I found it a bit strange that you asked me about something I just mentioned to you when you walked in here.”
Alarmed to have been caught red-handed with viable evidence, Cloud was now the one cast in shock.
More refined with his reactions, he gasped, moving back as he coughed uncomfortably. “N-no? I just...I will admit, I haven’t been sleeping as uh...well as I’d like!”
Mind wandering over to the reasons why, he began turning as red as a fresh turnip when he thought of all the nights he’d spent in Sephiroth’s embrace. That would suffice for his energy levels being too low as of late, but he couldn’t openly confess to that and resigned to take his intimate secrets to the grave.
Thankfully not one to remain a suspicious sort, Father Barret let it go as he continued devouring his meal. Scooping up the soup so quickly when it was at a better temperature he could tolerate, he’d consumed the entire thing in less than five minutes.
Head tossing back as he wiped his wet lips, he sighed out in content. “Ahhh! Your penchant for cooking never ceases to amaze, Sister! Well done!”
Nodding, Cloud was once again calm, heartbeat slowing considerably. “If only others were so swift with their compliments for me.”
To hear that was at least something rather unusual that stood out to Father Barret.
Patting himself on the stomach, shifting around where he sat leaning against the headboard of the bed, he was swift to inquire, “Are you having problems with your Sisters and Mother Marle?”
Glaring at the wall close to Father Barret, Cloud determined easily that either Mother Marle herself or perhaps Tifa before leaving for her work in the village had informed Father Barret of too many details so unnecessarily.
Selecting his words with extra caution, Cloud shrugged, palms facing the ceiling before he tucked them back under his chin. “We have had our differences, perhaps, but my respect still lives and thrives on for their sake.”
Folding his thick arms across his sternum, Father Barret then removed one to draw it up and scratch his head. “Hmm, well, I shall not pry beyond that, but remember, Sister Cloud, don’t squander your days sowing the seeds of discord among your brethren.”
Quickly signing the crucifix symbol with a few fingers, Cloud whispered and concluded, “Amen.”
Humbly humming, Father Barret allowed Cloud to remove the tray for his lap, much too clever as he studied Cloud long enough to notice how he stopped himself from staring at his slightly shorter leg in awe.
Knowing he was caught gaping, Cloud mentally chastised himself, eyes avoiding Father Barret’s until he almost sat back down. “Sorry, Father.”
Scratching his stubbly chin, the gentle priest shook his head and smiled on. “Don’t apologize, child. I understand your concerns.”
Wincing as he feared the reply ahead of time, Cloud gushed, “Uh, does it...hurt?”
“How sweet to ingratiate yourself in my woes and sorrows, dear child, but I’m fine. Half the time, I feel nothing.”
Swallowing nervously, as much as Cloud trusted that and respected it as Father Barret’s personal views as he was well on the path to recovery, he couldn’t understand why the man seemed so happy and elated after having one of his limbs cut off.
Touching the side of his thigh still intact, Father Barret chuckled after the resounding thump sounded aloud. “I don’t feel any pain. My flesh was rotting before, the stench so unbearable. I can now confidently tell you that the pain is no longer tormenting me.”
Sharing in the copacetic notion and comfort to help create a better ambiance and boost healing, Cloud orated with a tiny grin, “That’s lovely news, Father.”
Lifting an index finger and pointing out beyond the room, Father Barret announced loudly, “I’ve even asked Sister Aerith to help me try and get back on my feet!” Knowing how odd that sounded, he immediately corrected himself as he laughed, “I mean my foot.”
Alarmed as he learned of what Aerith had been up to behind his back, Cloud’s heart and fists tightened, his mind unable to properly accept the hideous and offensive notion of Father Barret being lugged around instead of resting and properly healing.
“Father Barret!” he began to lecture, embroiled with inner and outer vexation, “that isn’t conducive to your convalescence!”
Stubborn as ever, Father Barret shook his head and shut his eyes. Turning away from Cloud, he explained, “I do hobble about. I refuse to sit here feeling sorry for myself.”
“That is not the point!” Fussing over him, Cloud tried to rearrange the bed sheets even now to make sure they wound around his legs to keep him bound.
As he was moving around to tuck in Father Barret like a bratty child, the older male gently reached out and draped a hand over Cloud’s arm.
Sharing warmth and pressure, Cloud stopped in the middle of his work, muttering angrily with nonsensical words and phrases, relying only on his azure eyes to channel out the minacious regard he held for Father Barret and his fanciful ideas.
As if wanting to somehow challenge him as well, Father Barret became almost like a childish, daring youth at once.
Smirk returning to his veneer, his fingers curled and crossed over to the end of his sheets, and he began tugging them up. “If you are so frightened, Sister, I could show you just how well I am.”
Nape tingling, stomach heaving, and throat parched, Cloud stared in total astonishment as the white sheet slid up. It then leaned to the side, parting as it revealed Father Barret’s white shorts.
Snarling, though not stopping him at all yet, Cloud’s brows furrowed as he looked away from the bed. “Father Barret! You really are an adroit fiend at times!”
Positive mood persisting, Father Barret brushed aside the sheet entirely as he swung himself over the edge of the cot close to where a peeved Cloud sat. Not as annoyed as the youth however, he chuckled as if this were a fond moment to be shared forever, arms hanging by his knees.
Yawning and straightening his posture, he continued twisting around as he expressed with energy, “Exercise is important, and idle hands are the devil’s workshop, after all.”
Sliding over to his side when he noticed that Father Barret was insisting on rising, with a cautious regard, Cloud hissed down at him, “No need to remind me of such, Father.”
The soft sounds of rustling sheets bit into his eardrums, rousing interest, and when the whites fell lower to the floor, Cloud caved into the curiosity that beckoned himself.
Head hanging in the direction the sheets had cascaded to, as he slanted an arm around Father Barret, hardly able to cover even half his wide body as he rose, Cloud for the first time was able to see his left leg.
All forms of grief, panic, anguish, and sadness were abruptly taken away from himself and done away with. He’d sincerely expected to see something more gruesome and terrifying than a cloth tied to the short end of the stump Father Barret now had. Whatever was done to the limb had been properly covered and protected by the cloth which held over his leg, the ends loosely tied and knotted as a tourniquet of sorts.
Observant of his companion so cleverly, Father Barret blinked at Cloud, elbowing him mildly before he started laughing at his curiosity on full and obvious display.
Straight to the point, a blunt side of Father Barret revealed itself as he stated, “The warrior has taken quite good care of me. I truly wasn’t expecting it from him.”
The limits of his dialogue to be added on that matter burned and twisted his brain and soul. Cloud had always been taught to carry through with positive reinforcement, praising and rewarding great forms of behavior for lessons to be learned. Unfortunately, proudly producing his own thoughts and examples would only ensure a negative end and harrowing plight, not only for himself, but for General Sephiroth as well.
Acting cool and mildly standoffish, Cloud simply helped steady Father Barret, letting the priest take control and great care as he navigated himself away from the bed and into the center of the room.
“That’s it.”
Fingers growing lax as he eventually released his grip on Cloud, Father Barret extended his right arm ahead of himself for balance. Hobbling and wobbling less and less, he soon proved how accustomed and oddly comfortable he was with only relying on his right leg to amble forward.
Quite a decent distance was covered within minutes. No signs of a genuine struggle and pain ever presented themselves on his features, his wide grins so effulgent and effective to lighten the once tense mood. Father Barret passed through the middle of his room, targeting the far corner next, motioning with a head nod at light billowing in from a tiny window.
“As you wish, Father.”
Helping him cross over there, eyes glued to his legs just in case he stumbled, Cloud heard his own weight crunching over loose sheets and melted candle wax strewn over the dusty, messy floor. Father Barret made less noise than he did, somehow, eyeing the window as if a grand prize lay there within it.
It took much longer this time, his energy somewhat depleting, though his vibrant spirits and determination assisted in himself pumping his arms to create gusto and momentum. Bouncing over to the wall, with a tiny huff, Father Barret slipped away from Cloud, bracing his weight over the stones instead now.
“Wooo! That was...” Wiping sweat off his nose and temples, Father Barret peered out the window as he laughed in pride. “It was doable.”
Planting his hands onto his hips, Cloud released a soft laugh to share in the joy before he asked, “If your curiosity is now appeased, may I return you to your cot now?”
Placing an index finger over his lips, eyes twinkling with merriment he couldn’t contain, Father Barret directly faced the window. “A moment, child. I long for the outdoors. I miss it so...those many hours I took for granted in the garden and fields...”
“And you can have that experience again, if you would cease your stubborn ways and—”
Voice and rational argument lodged in his throat at once, the significant reason for stifling the rest of his musings was due to the way Father Barret turned to him so abruptly and offered him one of the most bizarre forms of expression.
Where he would often greet Cloud with minor cynicism and stolid regard when he was too young and quite the troublemaker at times, the years passing had molded and shaped the young nun into a well-behaved lady fit to provide what society deemed and expected her to offer. Father Barret had made adjustments over the passage of time to how he treated Cloud, somehow constantly aware of his secrets and sordid past, yet always consistently open to protecting him as he paraded on with his subterfuge.
Steadily, as he exhaled once and held onto his breath, the looks Father Barret now sent his way were truly shocking. Not quite smiling, yet not entirely displeased either, facial muscles tense yet poised belied that he was pensive about something he wished to disclose at that very moment.
Strikingly rather strong and bold at once despite his posture slightly slouching over, Father Barret remained absolutely sincere and concerned as he elucidated with a frown, “The General has visited me on many occasions. Whenever he assumes I am fast asleep, he begins speaking so freely about many things.”
Pendulous with his reactions in order not to stand out so suspiciously, Cloud softly sniped, “Perhaps he has his own misdeeds he wishes to confess to.”
“Nay, he is no longer the pernicious, deadly monster when he thinks no one is listening.” This time, as he thought of the memories, a fond smile danced over from one cheek to the other. “He speaks of many things, his soul and mind no doubt addled with guilt, but constantly, as I am made aware of his intentions, he speaks the most about you.”
Now, without a shadow of a doubt when the blade of judgment had been pointed right at himself, Cloud began squeaking and shaking, backing away from Father Barret. Mind scrambling to piece together something that would hopefully suffice and rescue his reputation now in total jeopardy, he only offered whimpers, eyes stinging when he couldn’t even summon the energy to blink.
“Father...he’s...h-he...he lies!”
It was nothing short of completely stupid to exclaim, especially when the foxy priest appeared to already have heaps of examples pointing to the truth directly given to himself from Sephiroth.
Rather than lashing out as Mother Marle had, however, he continued to stroke his chin, leaning beneath the light as he smiled in quite the affable, pleasant manner.
“I believe he is sincere, Sister. After all he’s divulged to me, I honestly believe he’s a noble and genuine man of pure heart and conviction.”
Damn near on the brink of exploding, Cloud’s mind raced as his heart, eyes darting about while he conjured up images of himself lashing out and reproaching Sephiroth for whatever illicit secret he’d spilled.
“What has he…” Taking a breath before he imploded, with a hand over his heart, Cloud choked out to finish, “What on earth has that loquacious…what did he tell you?!”
“There’s no need to be so guarded and cantankerous, Sister Cloud.”
“The devil I will! He—”
Interrupting him with a tiny growl, Father Barret shook his head, not at all disappointed, disgusted, or in the mood to lecture Cloud for his errant ways.
“Sister, he only praises you.” Honest and sincere beyond what his authority and position required of him, as one would when caring for a dear friend, Father Barret lay a hand on Cloud’s shoulder to quell his violent trembling.
Frozen right on the spot, as much as he wanted to continue screaming, kicking, resorting to throwing items about until they shattered to a dozen tiny pieces, Cloud wished to obtain as much information as he could, never having been in a position like this. Leery, though for the sake of protection, he still desired to hear precisely what Sephiroth had illustrated and crafted about his personality and character.
Tilting his head down, then to one side, as he clutched an arm, he whined away, “What has he told you?”
No hesitation was necessary, utmost kindness and devotion shimmering forth from his eyes as he started patting Cloud’s shoulder. “He only wishes to share his entire life and world with you, Sister. The man truly cares for you.”
Comforting as it was with Father Barret soothingly massaging his shoulder to yank tension out of them, when the phrases registered and rooted deeply in his brain, Cloud shrieked and shook the limb off his person.
“No! That can’t be!”
“I speak the truth, Sister.” Draping his hand on the wall now, Father Barret concluded with confidence, “He is such a puissant soul. Oh, he’s quite fond of you and wishes to take your hand in marriage.”
Beating himself in the head as he slunk back in shame he couldn’t fight, Cloud fiercely clung to his own morals as he ranted and repeated, “No, no! I hate him! I hate all men like him!”
“That isn’t fair and reasonable, my child.” Now, Father Barret didn’t put on airs and graces for his sake, projecting much chagrin and annoyance as his nostrils flared and his frown deepened. “I once loathed him as well, but my opinion has drastically changed. He isn’t our enemy; he’s a venerable friend.”
Swelling with anger and bitter contempt, Cloud pounded his skull one final time until he decided to give up on that. Headache swiftly returning as a result for his ridiculous actions was the only price he had to pay until he glared forth at Father Barret in total shock.
Banal as it may have been, he somehow sensed that the war and politics involved in Father Barret’s earlier disposition and stance regarding Sephiroth had long since disappeared, fading away into the background. There were other sets of unique, urgent matters to tend to, but he had no patience to stomach them all currently.
The testy nun ensured that he got to one point however, especially when Father Barret hadn’t reported to threats of punishment, nauseating approaches, or hateful attitude upon knowing fully well of the torrid, carnal affair Cloud and Sephiroth were pursuing.
Twitching nervously, Cloud questioned, “You hold no opposition to this unholy union?”
Affronted by these scathing terms at his expense, Father Barret recoiled as he snorted. “It isn’t unholy, and nay, I don’t wish to oppose anything.”
Not wanting to dig further, yet also desiring some semblance of closure, Cloud forced himself to press on with a wince, “Why not?! Have you forgotten that I’m the same as him?!” Wanting to make it abundantly clear, he vehemently bashed onto his flat chest as he bravely crowed, “Look and listen carefully! I’m a man!” When shouting it once wasn’t enough to rouse Father Barret in a way Cloud wanted, he again crisply fired out, “I’m a man, and so is he!”
Lashes fluttering at him swiftly, and then decreasing in speed as a sardonic approach was taken, Father Barret appeared rather taken aback as he chuckled. “I know, Sister. I’m aware.”
“How can you—” Breath catching in his throat when his muscles involuntarily clenched, arteries responsible for somehow closing enough to decrease blood flow, oxygen was short, even with the window somewhat ajar.
Coughing as an ailing one would, Cloud turned away in order to poke his nose out of the space between the windowsill and the pane of glass. Deeply breathing so he could steady himself, eyes burning and tears messily flowing down his cheeks to land on his chin, as he sobbed and wiped each one with a jerky limb, Father Barret eventually made his way over to his side.
Reaching around Cloud and wiping his tears away with his own hands, though Cloud didn’t look at him yet, the less emotionally afflicted male beamed down at him and gently touched the top of his covered head.
Once more so reassuring and comforting, Father Barret expounded while smiling at the back of Cloud’s head, “I won’t intervene and discourage any union, not when it’s clear to me that this is love in the same way I held and shared with my wife.”
“But that—” Spinning around to face Father Barret, Cloud was collected into his hold, nose hitting his chest as he sobbed on, “She was a woman! It was different!”
“Love is love, my child, and it’s rather rare for many to experience it so completely unadulterated, pure, honest, and with true compassion, especially in our dark world.” Holding onto Cloud and caressing his back while he sobbed away, Father Barret explicated, “Do not shun it. Do not fear it. Male or female, it isn’t evil, it isn’t filthy. It is love.”
Coping with the fact that Father Barret sincerely saw no issue with his relationship with Sephiroth wasn’t an easy feat by any means. Due to the constant upheavals and signs of betrayal from all those around himself, Cloud knew he needed more time in order to completely trust the altruistic priest. Yet, given how gentle his hold was, how warm his arms were, and how steadily his heart thumped against his bosom, Cloud didn’t detect a single trace of deception and malice.
Breaking away from Father Barret as he sniffled and dabbed at his own eyes, the lashes clumping and sticking together, Cloud felt a little more at ease, lips firmly spread over his teeth as he sighed and leaned back against the window.
“You have truly lost your wits, Father.”
Sharing in the light humor, Father Barret guffawed back as he orated pleasantly, “Perhaps I have, but times are changing, Sister, and that means we have to adjust and change with them.”
Sighing again, Cloud stiffly murmured, “If you say so.”
“I do say so!” Witty and bright, Father Barret informed him, “After all, if we could make it so that a young boy was smuggled into a convent for women, raised and accepted as a beautiful lady, I see no reason why we can’t do wonders with passing that same lady off to a handsome man for marriage!”
Turning his head to gaze out the window with a bit of a forlorn expression, he surveyed the luscious fields, the tips of barley and wheat floating and waving with the wind almost acting as arms greeting him. Gazing from left to right as he consumed the auspicious view and delightful ambiance, birds darted low to the ground before taking full flight above in the bright sky, and as Cloud stared about, he caught another unusual figure there that truly didn’t belong.
Unrecognizable, though the flesh appeared smooth and peach colored, the shades of red and black shimmered like a flag before the outline of what seemed to be a tall man stood there in the open so boldly.
Choking for air and to try and react swiftly, Cloud tapped on the glass and pointed, but as he began shrieking, the figure fell back behind tree trunks and bushes, blending well with the thick, heavy darkness.
“F-Father!” Knocking on the glass louder, Cloud coughed out uncomfortably, “I saw someone! I swear it!” Rushing to the other end of the room where another window happened to be, Cloud squinted out of it as he announced, “I saw them before, but whoever it is always disappears, and you can’t really make him out!”
Nowhere near surprised or frightened as he was, Father Barret crossed his arms over his chest, eyes glossing over the fields and meadows beyond the small window. “I know. I’ve seen them too, Sister.”
“You…” Wildly turning about and almost tripping over his own feet in a messy splash of movement, Cloud gaped, jaw shaking until he finally asked, “You have?”
The truth was too easy to witness as Father Barret replied, “Yes. Many times. I don’t know who they are, and as I thought I was certainly dreaming, one vital fact occurred to me.”
Enthralled, despite the odd sense of danger somehow looming on the horizon, Cloud ignored whatever perilous symbols lay out beyond the peaceful abbey, heeding to the words of the sagacious Father Barret.
Starting off with a tiny joke of sorts to smoothen the tense ambiance, Father Barret slipped well into the role and seat of a well-informed person, so highly observant and full of sensibility.
“I do believe however that Mother Marle is perhaps summoning them. I have caught her on a few occasions entangling herself in conversation with them.”
Tongue shrewd as his wit, Cloud saucily seethed and fumed out, “Yes, I have seen her traveling around delivering letters...if not to them, then to who?”
“I haven’t the foggiest, Sister, but I have earned a potent lesson through my unfortunate predicament.” Gesturing around himself as he made his claims clear, Father Barret extrapolated didactically, “When an illness or a disease first begins to spread, it never settles and attacks immediately. The host is often totally unaware, the symptoms rather subtle, though not fully obvious.”
Pointing out the window again, although not a person or creature was out there to be seen, the references and connections were the same as he continued explaining.
“The contamination needs time to spread and afflict the host. It invades the body, one piece at a time, slowly and gradually taking control. Signs become more known and obvious then, but before the poor host realizes what’s happening, it’s often too late.”
Hand now lowering to hang by his shorter leg, he tapped on it as he clearly expressed, “One area is overwhelmed and conquered, then the illness spreads and grows to take over other places. The signs are by that point amassing to chaotic levels of destruction, but the host is overpowered and has to either resign themselves to their plight, or they can fight back.”
“Fight back?” Struggling to accept that, especially when he knew of his drawbacks and failures, the inadequacies were too great to be ignored, even if he wished to carry on with the hope that he stood a chance.
Shaking that idea off easily, Cloud retorted, “No…I can’t…we can’t fight.”
Cleverly, Father Barret’s intentions had not been to suggest that Cloud take up the mantle and moniker of a protector or warrior in the least. Eyes sparkling so brightly like scintillating beams of light radiating from luminous stars, the dark brown orbs coruscated on until he finished illustrating his final thoughts.
“I didn’t necessarily mean you, Sister…I merely was trying to suggest that as much as you refuse to see otherwise, you have tools at your disposal.”
Failing to see his perspective, though he thought he had a vague idea, Cloud asked through a warped veneer, “Are you suggesting that I use General Sephiroth as my personal soldier?”
Shooting that down at once, Father Barret exuberantly demurred, “Never would I suggest such a thing. You do need allies, however, Cloud. I speak of allies on your side, which you have.”
Closing the distance between their bodies, he spared no second in hesitation as he hugged Cloud to himself again, holding onto him there as he cooed down at him before he met Cloud’s cerulean eyes with a plucky sense of adventure emanating through his old age.
“You already have a loyal confidante to rely on, and a man who would gladly go to war for you with a smile. Consider yourself blessed.”
✞———————❖———————✞
The belabor of a discussion shared with Father Barret had left a powerful impression on Cloud’s troubled mind, perhaps as it was intended to. Imperviousness would be his only downfall if he didn’t adhere and hearken to significant symbols existing within the example Father Barret had laid out for him.
Knowledge was a boon to acquiring some sort of upper hand when it came to boosting likelihood and chances for auspicious survival, which had no doubt been the intended lesson. One couldn’t continue thriving in a deceitful world with closed eyes and a blank mind…even if it meant opening oneself to such ignoble, impious notions that would blacken the soul, it had to be done.
Rumors were already rife in the village and souring the air, spoiling the moods of many. There came a plethora of conversation regarding matters of a new war brewing, an invasion no doubt on the way from new groups. The nameless, unknown intruders perhaps had been the odd, mysterious man or two Cloud had sometimes caught sight of, even when he wandered off in town to continue selling produce, goods, and other items as routines demanded.
Whoever they were, whatever militant group they represented was unclear, as they never stuck around for long, hardly speaking to anyone. Like phantoms, they would appear in the most unlikely of places, turning up for only a second or two before disappearing like vapors and winding mists. Cloud only knew that the allegory for a disease plaguing the body Father Barret had spoken of was true. These unknown men were quite like the first signs and symptoms of a disease in its early stages. If only one could take care of them, uprooting them before they spread on a massive level…
Soon enough, with an urgent warning delivered from many locals, Cloud ceased operating as a delivery person. No longer was he permitted to head to town, with or without an escort or adjutor even. It was simply too dangerous, too risky.
Nothing had changed after all, it seemed. They were back to their daily grind, retiring to the lack of adventure, color, and exuberance in their lives. Evidently, nothing mattered, even with a robust, highly efficient male such as General Sephiroth around to guard and protect them; they had no other choice but to hide away within the thick, safe walls of the convent.
Cloud didn’t know whether to be riddled with fury or insulted. He supposed expressing gratitude and prayers of appreciation for the Lord was more reasonable and effective, but he couldn’t bring himself to the task many times.
After all, if they were truly at war with other cults and barbaric heathens, it wouldn’t do them any favors to behave like cowardly mice scurrying away for shelter from cats. They needed to be standing at a firm, united front in order to appear far stronger and more intimidating, but they were doing anything else other than that.
It was a defiant act of impudence and insolence in Cloud’s opinion, and no one else could force and convince him to see otherwise, not without strong proof. This was their land by birthright, and consideration went in turn for his sordid past and miserable upbringing away from his parents and native town when it came to his approach. He’d already been urged to leave a place he once called home, and he simply refused to allow it to happen a second time.
Well, ultimately, it was clear to see that the universe was chaotic, cruel, unforgiving, and vicious enough to swallow anyone whole and spit them back out. The world didn’t care for what he desired, oftentimes deliberately going out of its way to organize specific events simply to make sure people at a disadvantage like Cloud truly struggled. Obstacles and toils were all he was familiar with, the filtered paths not at all available to himself unless he fought extra hard for them to be cleared away.
It was never proper, fair, regular, or just...it just was.
Just because it existed that way, certainly didn’t mean that he had to abide by the rules and accept the natural law. He was known for being a survivor, beating and challenging the odds, even if the stakes were extremely high. This was what he knew how to do best and would continue to do so with utmost aplomb and flourish.
The tension unfortunately didn’t bode well for Sephiroth either. Cloud didn’t even entertain a single doubt that the prospects of a new war bristling on the horizon instilled feelings of post-traumatic stress for Sephiroth. Traces and obvious signs of that were presentable when the Celtic warrior started sequestering himself in his personal rooms, cutting back on meal intakes, not at all speaking to a soul aside from Father Barret.
It wasn’t like him at all to do this, but if it was space he wanted and needed, then as his lover, Cloud resigned himself to providing that. It wasn’t as if he could even carry a decent conversation with the man lately anyway. Sephiroth was too busy keeping to himself for many reasons, and everyone else was already uptight and badly on edge. Whenever Sephiroth yearned to speak with him, he could seek him out, and that was the plan Cloud would stick by.
Going along with that was rather easy, as the convent seemed rather barren and empty these days. Classes, meetings, prayer sessions, and other chores were still a regular occurrence and conducted, but hardly anyone stuck around long after their work was completed. Where the building had once been so full of magic, glory, and zeal, now, it appeared much like an unoccupied gravesite.
All of that was directly the reason why Cloud found it rather unusually disturbing when one morning following breakfast, Sister Scarlet called him to her room. There were too many irregularities and inconsistencies as well when he knew her quite well. Based on her past behavior, she truly didn’t care for him, nor did she take kindly to those she held no favouritism for.
So what did she want from him?
Deciding that the most logical way to determine that would be to hold audience with her, Cloud finished with his sponge bath and morning chores before heading over to her quarters near Mother Marle’s. Luck was on his side when he never ran into the older woman, meekly knocking on the shut door of Sister Scarlet’s door and waiting with patience slipping by the second.
Mind wandering to aimless territory as he waited for her to come to the door, after two corollaries of an assemblage of clues, he ascertained that she was either about to lash out at him like Sister Tifa had, or she was going to perhaps threaten him with information she held regarding his affair with the General. There was no other reason for her to be calling upon him otherwise, and she had many goals to achieve if she did in fact report him.
Sister Scarlet didn’t like him, she was extremely close with Mother Marle, which would help her earn points of flattery with the older nun, and as it so happened, she too had feelings for the General. This was all to be expected, really.
It was far better to just face the music, possess some form of dignity if he was to go down.
The door eventually was unlocked, the handle rattling before the old hinges groaned. When an opening was created well enough, a rather hauntingly pale face not quite like the glowing, rose colored one Sister Scarlet possessed revealed itself.
Frightened right out of his wits, Cloud at first assumed he had arrived at the wrong room. There was just no way that someone as lively, vivacious, and joyful as Sister Scarlet looked this...ill. Even her cheeks were sunken in, dark bags under her bulging, bloodshot eyes suggesting that she hadn’t slept properly in days. Her hair curtained down around her face, adding to the eerie shadows in the hall reflecting poor lighting now flitting across her features to make them rather unrecognizable.
Still, if she was out for trouble, he knew he had to play his cards right, act courteous and respectful in the hopes that she would perhaps go easy and pity him...maybe.
Before he could perform a perfunctory curtsy however, Sister Scarlet held open the door wider and stood to the side as she gestured inside her room.
“Do come in and cease dawdling in the hall.”
Understanding that she was in a nasty mood, Cloud chose not to waste her time and test the limits of her thin patience.
Sweeping inside, he waited until she shut the door again, the only option available just to listen to her. It seemed she was intending on holding back for the moment, however, winding around him, passing by over to a small fire pit in the middle of the room where a boiling kettle of herbs happened to be. Everything smelled pleasantly clean, the room neat and tidy, furniture well organized as she always kept it. Still, something was quite amiss...
Holding his hands with the fingers intertwined just as a means of not showing her signs that he was nervous and trembling, he cleared his throat right at the same time she did, strangely enough.
That served as the impetus to get her speaking, however, a mug in her hand as she poured the warm water inside it.
Steam rising around her oval face, her slightly oily and messy locks hung around her shoulders when she bent, and as she righted herself up again, Cloud held up a hand and shook his head.
“I don’t want any tea.”
Huffing sarcastically at him, she paused, blowing into her steaming mug before she retorted, “I wasn’t offering any to you.”
Sneering, Cloud aimed to win back his own ego and pride when she’d done well to attack it. “How hospitable as always, Sister.”
Quietly sipping her tea as she leaned against a wall by a window, the exhausted look in her eyes never faded, even for many minutes after she downed her drink and merely watched him, all while holding onto her mug.
Was this what she’d called him here for? Just to observe him?
What good would that even do for her?
Supposing she was going for the effect of being truly irritating and downright pathetic, Cloud gave that to her by right, but he also stuck to defending his own reputation, if she was after tarnishing it, at least.
Properly varnishing his social airs and graces with a well-practiced mask of total indifference, he stared back at her as she did him, anticipating her next move as if he was engaged in quite the psychological battle of a lifetime.
Sighing as her shoulders and chest sank and deflated, she suddenly seemed to crumble, looking even more miserable than he imagined.
Hardly raising her head, she inquired with a cocked eyebrow, “How’s Father Barret healing?”
Incensed at her for even asking when he’d hardly seen her around to lend a helping hand lately, Cloud mordantly countered, “Didn’t think you cared about anyone else but yourself.”
Coy at first, she asked, “Oh? What does that mean?”
“Maybe if you felt it less of an insult and burden to exit your royal chambers and grace us with your presence, you would know how Father Barret is doing for yourself.”
Affronted as he wanted her to be with his accusatory language and acerbic tone, she gasped, placing a hand over her heart before she snapped hotly, “I have been sick. I thought it best if I stayed away from Father Barret. He’s too feeble right now and I didn’t want to risk him contracting whatever ailment I have!”
Even angrier with her for inviting him into a confined area when she was unwell, Cloud held an arm up to cover his nose.
Backing himself into one of the corners as far from her as possible, he crudely yelled, “You wench! You brought me here to contaminate me!”
Eyes narrowed at him as Sister Scarlet asked in a bored tone, “Is that right?”
Knowing it to be so, Cloud hugged a wall, nearly screeching, “It is! A slow and painful death!”
“You pea brain!”
Ignoring her as she rolled her eyes, filling the room with nothing but sardonic attitude, Cloud choked through tears, “It must be the plague!”
Upon hearing this, while she folded her arms across her chest, with quite the downtrodden look in her eyes, a most crestfallen Sister Scarlet shook her head.
Appearing much too sorry for herself, her inflection turned rather sorrowful. Gone was her churlishness as she expressed, “If only it were that simple. I genuinely wish I had the plague.”
....
He had to be sick himself, no doubt imagining this conversation. Nothing else in the world of rationality would be able to explain why Sister Scarlet wasn’t behaving as selfishly, coldly, and so bitterly towards not only him, but it would suffice for her sudden desire to perish.
How could someone who loved life so much want to perish like this?!
Wondering if she was just emotionally as drained as everyone else was, given the political and religious situations, Cloud whispered while remaining in his corner by the wall, “That’s not right! It’s one thing to be dispirited at times, but if it’s attention you seek, I suggest you cease doing so in an offensive manner!”
Apathy flowed out of Sister Scarlet, her hands now drawn up as she cooed, “And just who have I offended?”
Fast on his feet and quicker in wit, Cloud replied, “The Lord doesn’t shower blessings upon those who don’t value the life they’ve been given!”
Hands on her hips now and moving one step away from her position by the window, while still shaking her head side to side, as she glared down at him, Sister Scarlet maintained a fraction of her former self once more.
Steps measured and stance rather weak, however, she surprised him as she hurriedly stated, “Cloud, I don’t need to be given a lecture, not when other urgent matters are on my mind now.”
Remembering that she was getting too close to him with the threat of her mysterious ailment, Cloud cried out in warning, “Stay away from me!”
Doing just the opposite, in two steps, with a great swoop akin to a hunting falcon, Sister Scarlet surrounded him. Hands stretched out, grabbing onto his, but before Cloud had a chance to either fight her off or scream to raise the alarm, he was only interrupted from acting out by what Sister Scarlet announced.
Trembling as badly as he was, she held onto his limbs and sobbed, “I have missed my cycle for the third time now! A few months I am without my menses!”
Suddenly, all thoughts of a sickness and what it entailed and was defined as by Sister Scarlet completely added novelty in the realms of terror for Cloud. Knowing what he did of biology and reproduction, he ascertained well on his own that she meant she was with child.
Jaw quivering and dropping even wider and lower, he brokenly rasped, “A f-few months?!”
No wonder she was hiding away...no wonder...
Tightening her grip on him though not to harm Cloud, Sister Scarlet openly began crying, tears plopping everywhere and soaking her robes.
Head hanging, she sniffled and croaked out, “What am I to do?! What’s to become of me?! Where am I to go?! I can’t raise a baby!”
Trying not to leap to conclusions and risk frightening her, Cloud suggested with a weak form of argument between taking glances at her stomach, “M-maybe you aren’t really—”
“I know I am!” she belted through, fingers digging into his muscles and bones. “I can’t keep anything solid down, and I just feel it, Cloud!”
Without thinking properly about what he was offering as a form of a possible solution, Cloud questioned, “Have you told Mother Marle?”
Appearing and reacting as if he’d asked her to commit a heinous crime, Sister Scarlet’s mien scrunched up as she loosened her hold on his hands.
Shoving them down and away from herself, she hissed icily, “Are you stupid, Sister?! If she knows I...I can’t!”
“Alright! I apologize!” Spinning away from her, a hand draped over his own stomach, while he tried gathering his thoughts, with the entire room too hot as if it were on fire, Cloud panted through his grief and turmoil, “What of the father?”
Taking heaving breaths herself, Sister Scarlet ran a hand through her hair as she processed the statement and its implications.
Turning mildly red, she repeated, “The father? What of him?”
Due to how shocking this was for himself to take, Cloud spun around in a tiny circle, words rather placid and languid. “Does he know? Who is he anyway?”
Gathering her robes around herself as though shielding away from a nasty attack he’d lambasted her with, ever so shrewdly, she replied, “It isn’t your business, but he’s already a married man, and he won’t want a child!”
Piecing together that she’d no doubt traveled a few times in the village by herself, Cloud reached the grim conclusion that half those times when she was out on her excursions, Sister Scarlet most certainly hadn’t been tending to her assigned tasks. She’d been with her unknown lover...and now, she was carrying his child, a child he didn’t even want.
Fully versed in the rules of their religion and practices, Cloud turned a snobby nose at her as he coldly reminded her, “You can’t have a child here, especially not out of wedlock.”
This time, rather than bursting into a waterfall of fresh tears, screaming back at him, or even lashing out in another way, Sister Scarlet tossed her head back and started guffawing away.
Cackling like a witch to her heart’s content, she flooded the room with her inappropriate laughter, only ceasing to wipe her eyes and lean against one edge of her bed.
Seething with hatred for her, Cloud let his own derision add a thick layer of frost to his veneer. “I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you.”
Fanning her face with a hand, she lurched and swayed, chucking once again before she elucidated, “I see you’re still too innocent, even though you’re doing the same things I do.”
While his mind frantically sought for a way to distance himself from her accurately inclined suspicions, outwardly, he remained confident enough to waspishly grouse, “I don’t need riddles.”
Bluntly, she explicated, “The warrior. I know you’re sleeping with him. You should tread lightly and cautiously, Sister Cloud, otherwise, the entire castle will learn of your filthy secrets.”
The more he clung to silence and climbed the mountains of his reserved seething, the more she knew she was correct. Cloud couldn’t even defend himself in this regard, simply glaring at the floor until she recovered from her laughter.
Cachinnating no more, she tugged back her long hair, sitting down on the bed and busying herself with braiding the long, thick locks into one unique braid.
Fingers twisting and winding almost expertly, without even locking eyes with Cloud, she illustrated, “I don’t want to keep it, so I will deliver it and give the baby to someone who can nurture and love it. I’ll only be reminded of the father if I raise the child myself, but it’s too late.”
Uncomfortable as he was, Cloud digested what she’d informed him and shared, fighting for courage as he wondered aloud, “You’re leaving us too?”
A dreamy look appeared in her blue eyes, a tiny hum floating out of her throat while she worked. Rocking on the bed, she beamed before she whispered under her breath, “I will have the baby in town, though in a place I won’t be recognized. I won’t ever return, not even after the war is won...or lost.”
Once again, the notion of a war without any confirmation and strong evidence to support that luculent narrative set Cloud right off.
Clenching his fists and jaw, he took a step towards her and growled, “There will be no war!”
Not put off at all by his guttural voice so unbecoming for a young lady, distracted and in her own world, she continued to hum her jejune notes. Smile growing wider and fuller, for the first time in half an hour, she had some color to her lips and cheeks.
“Oh Cloud,” she began with a tiny giggle, “it’s already begun.”
This time, when their eyes met, her braid hung down to her lap. Folding her hands beneath it, she faced him directly, turning her body forward while her grin freely took too much space.
“I suppose we shall never meet again in this lifetime, Cloud, but it would be remiss of me not to pass at least one sagacious piece of advice, from one fertile woman to another.”
Rising from the bed, she fetched her veil off a hook in the wall she passed by. Steps so light and fluttery, she hardly made a sound as she crossed over to him.
Hands moving up to drape the veil around her skull, once she covered her head, she dipped a finger down, curling it beneath his chin and forcing him to look up into her pink, tearful eyes.
While warmly grinning, as much as it didn’t match her tears and clumping eyelashes, she leaned down close to him. Cloud froze, unsure of why he couldn’t move. Nervously, he swallowed audibly when her lips landed on his left cheek, a tiny, soft kiss directly planting itself there on his smooth flesh.
Not yet drawing away from him, she channeled her prodigious words into his ear, ever so slowly, one syllable, vowel, and consonant punctuated at a time as if she was using them all to pierce and puncture his heart to a swasivious level.
“Heed my warning, girl; next time you’re in his arms, give some thought to your own body. Give it some thought, even if his cock is so exquisite that it has you in tears and singing out to heaven.” Following a sharp intake of breath and a ghost of a smile, she mystically cooed, “Whatever you do, dear girl, make sure he doesn’t come inside you.”
When Cloud gasped and flushed as he latched onto her filthy, degrading message, she snickered at his display of shock. Standing taller to loom over him, she grabbed his right hand and pressed it with the palm hitting her abdomen firmly. Flat as it still was for the time being, they both knew it would soon swell to accommodate the new life growing there within her womb.
“After all, you wouldn’t want to end up like your poor Sister Scarlet, would you?”