oldmansfiles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oldmansfiles) wrote2011-02-02 09:43 pm
oldmansfiles) wrote2011-02-02 09:43 pm
Disparate: Traces Remain
Fandom: FFVII
Characters/Pairings: Veld/Tifa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "The trick to dying properly is to believe it yourself. Tifa Lockheart never survived."
Notes: I am very likely to connect at least two other fics to this one. I like this concept a lot. Title is partly from the song "Traces Remain" by Morgan Page, which is basically older!Veld's theme song.
For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
born_from_ash for Christmastimes. Yes I know it's February. I'm much quicker with other sorts of gifts.
"The trick to dying properly is to believe it yourself. Tifa Lockheart never survived."
'No good deed goes unpunished', as the saying went, but Tifa had never really expected it to be this bad. Defeating Sephiroth had been a necessary thing, but people didn't take too kindly to Midgar's untimely destruction. Not even despite the fact that it could have been so much worse. When Cloud had nearly gotten killed by a mob, refusing to fight back at first over the absurdity of it, they realized that the world was no longer safe for them.
"I just want to hide, not die."
The remnants of Shinra didn't fair any better than they did as far as public opinion was concerned but they were more practiced in subterfuge. They'd instituted a kind of buddy system between the scattering members of AVALANCHE and the briefly surfacing Turks. Tifa had remembered when she was young that there were far more of them than lately, and she should have known that they hadn't been dead all this time. There was a mutually assured destruction element to pairing up as they did.
"Much harder to find someone that no longer exists, don't you think?"
Separation was hard for all of them, but they all had to try. Yuffie still had a few loyalists on account of being Wutain royalty, so in several years they were to meet there, hopefully to find some sanctuary. But not yet. Barret and herself in particular had to be hidden especially well, since they had become such public figures in AVALANCHE over the past two years. He had gone off with Reeve, the only one that had played both sides and had lived to tell about it. And it wasn't just her people that disliked what was happening, she could almost swear Rude had shed a tear over Reno's attempts at a manly 'later, bro.'
Tifa was going to be left with someone that surprised even most of the other Turks, having been declared dead while most of them were still rookies. And Veld looked like he'd died once or twice before, between the scars on his face and the hand that he kept gloved, which glinted like silver around the wrist under the cuff of his shirt.
"So are we just going to make a really great story about my untimely death?"
He looked amused, as if she'd made a private joke. "I've found that the best way to make people believe that you're dead is to be as public and dramatic about it as possible."
She blinked. "Is that how you did it?"
He let out a quick laugh. "My execution was quite spectacular, actually."
As much as she didn't like the idea of being away from friends, from family she had a feeling that Veld wasn't a bad guy to be spending the next couple years with. Or at least he was beyond bad.
---
It reminded her of when Scarlet had tried to get her executed, only this time there was much more of a crowd instead of just cameras and guards. Cloud, Barrett, Cid, and she were all there with nooses around their necks, which Veld described as 'draconian enough to satisfy the public'. He'd also said that since Yuffie had to be alive in order to win over Wutai's support it was her job as the token female to cry as much as possible.
It was actually hard at first, considering how often she had to smile or at least seem more put together in the face of despair. She had to think about every thing that had happened in the past year alone, and they welled up enough to make the effect believable.
For a moment, she almost felt like she did die, hanging there and hoping the hidden harness did its job and she wouldn’t really hang by her neck.
When they had all met in a tunnel later to say their last goodbyes for who knew how long, she was happy that she didn't have any tears left to shed. It was almost awkward, standing around in a tunnel being unable to say goodbye to what she'd held onto as family, while the ghosts and soon to be ghosts waited further down to take them into obscurity. Gunshots above them indicated that the last of the live ones had gone the way of the ghost.
Veld's hand was very light on her shoulder as he guided her through the underground, and she glanced back long enough to see Cloud and Reno give each other a nod and walk off, and Rufus Shinra start talking to a girl that reminded her a bit of Veld.
"From here on out, my name is Michael Paladeen and yours is Sabrina Paladeen."
"Are we married?"
He snorted. "If that serves. Or you could be my daughter."
"I guess we'll figure out which when we get there."
---
Once Veld was outside of the city and in the sun more, the idea that they could convincingly be related was more and more ridiculous, because he was clearly part Costan and she was most certainly not. He looked much younger without the pollution and the darkness of Midgar making him so pale, and his wrinkles and scars less severe. Even his hair seemed to be more auburn than gray after a week or two on the road.
Her hair had been cut shorter to minimize people recognizing her, just below her shoulders. Tifa had to give up her black and white dressing scheme as well, opting for things that Aeris probably would have been proud of her wearing, though her dresses were shorter, so as not to restrict her movements.
“Who are you?” she asked, as they were walking on the outskirts of some town that she’d never seen in actuality, but had probably seen a million times before. It was striking how homogeneous the landscape was outside of Midgar.
“We’ve been traveling for a couple weeks and you ask that question now? I would think by now you’d be a little more guarded.”
She frowned at him. “I think maybe who you were might have been dangerous to me at one point, but whoever you are now isn’t that man.”
He clicked his tongue as if he were going to chide her, but instead said something surprising. “I suppose in some ways you’re probably right.”
They used a couple of cheap tin rings reshaped slightly from food cans they purchased in one of the blink and miss it types of towns. It wasn’t like anyone wanted to look at diamonds or crystals of materia anymore.
She did take note that Veld didn’t answer direct questions, though.
---
“I refuse to stand out here in the rain any longer, Michael.”
Tifa found that acting was something that could come naturally to her, but it was the first time she’d ever thought of it that way. All those times she’d smiled and gave an encouraging word when all she wanted to do was to go off by herself and scream, or cry, or anything but be the ever-present support. Sabrina Paladeen was no one’s simple consort, she had all the things that Tifa had always envied in other women, and all the things that she most liked about herself.
After all, one of the first things that her companion had told her was that Tifa Lockheart was dead. But it had occurred to her that for all this time she’d thought of what it was like to be Sabrina, but had never really occupied her space. She was cold and she was tired of Veld trying to haggle with the Innkeeper over their rates.
“Just a moment, dear.”
She slammed some gil onto the counter, and smiled at the Innkeeper. “We’ll take the room now.”
The man handed her a key, and didn’t say anything. Veld smirked, in a way that was not distinguishable between being impressed or annoyed or maybe some other emotion that he had not expressed near her. She was glad that they weren’t actually close friends; he was probably infuriating to those close to him.
But Tifa glared, and he took her bag.
---
It would have surprised Tifa that she would take Veld by the collar, and kiss him like she never had with any other man. Inexperience and confusion had always made her hold back with others, But she had no false memory Clouds or fumbling Sector boys to trip her up, only a professional liar with a relaxed air to him and an experienced attractiveness.
After all, she was Sabrina Paladeen, and they were supposed to be married.
---
He stood out on the balcony the next morning, looking like a man who wanted a cigarette but had quit years ago. If she knew him, that probably could have been true.
Veld--or maybe Michael--turned to smile at her as she joined him.
“I can assure you that I didn’t pick you because you are... well. You’re not stupid and you’ve seen a mirror before.”
“But it can’t hurt, right?”
“No, it can’t.”
There was no future in this, that was for certain. But Tifa, yes even she could admit that wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to worry about at the moment.
Characters/Pairings: Veld/Tifa
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "The trick to dying properly is to believe it yourself. Tifa Lockheart never survived."
Notes: I am very likely to connect at least two other fics to this one. I like this concept a lot. Title is partly from the song "Traces Remain" by Morgan Page, which is basically older!Veld's theme song.
For
born_from_ash for Christmastimes. Yes I know it's February. I'm much quicker with other sorts of gifts."The trick to dying properly is to believe it yourself. Tifa Lockheart never survived."
'No good deed goes unpunished', as the saying went, but Tifa had never really expected it to be this bad. Defeating Sephiroth had been a necessary thing, but people didn't take too kindly to Midgar's untimely destruction. Not even despite the fact that it could have been so much worse. When Cloud had nearly gotten killed by a mob, refusing to fight back at first over the absurdity of it, they realized that the world was no longer safe for them.
"I just want to hide, not die."
The remnants of Shinra didn't fair any better than they did as far as public opinion was concerned but they were more practiced in subterfuge. They'd instituted a kind of buddy system between the scattering members of AVALANCHE and the briefly surfacing Turks. Tifa had remembered when she was young that there were far more of them than lately, and she should have known that they hadn't been dead all this time. There was a mutually assured destruction element to pairing up as they did.
"Much harder to find someone that no longer exists, don't you think?"
Separation was hard for all of them, but they all had to try. Yuffie still had a few loyalists on account of being Wutain royalty, so in several years they were to meet there, hopefully to find some sanctuary. But not yet. Barret and herself in particular had to be hidden especially well, since they had become such public figures in AVALANCHE over the past two years. He had gone off with Reeve, the only one that had played both sides and had lived to tell about it. And it wasn't just her people that disliked what was happening, she could almost swear Rude had shed a tear over Reno's attempts at a manly 'later, bro.'
Tifa was going to be left with someone that surprised even most of the other Turks, having been declared dead while most of them were still rookies. And Veld looked like he'd died once or twice before, between the scars on his face and the hand that he kept gloved, which glinted like silver around the wrist under the cuff of his shirt.
"So are we just going to make a really great story about my untimely death?"
He looked amused, as if she'd made a private joke. "I've found that the best way to make people believe that you're dead is to be as public and dramatic about it as possible."
She blinked. "Is that how you did it?"
He let out a quick laugh. "My execution was quite spectacular, actually."
As much as she didn't like the idea of being away from friends, from family she had a feeling that Veld wasn't a bad guy to be spending the next couple years with. Or at least he was beyond bad.
---
It reminded her of when Scarlet had tried to get her executed, only this time there was much more of a crowd instead of just cameras and guards. Cloud, Barrett, Cid, and she were all there with nooses around their necks, which Veld described as 'draconian enough to satisfy the public'. He'd also said that since Yuffie had to be alive in order to win over Wutai's support it was her job as the token female to cry as much as possible.
It was actually hard at first, considering how often she had to smile or at least seem more put together in the face of despair. She had to think about every thing that had happened in the past year alone, and they welled up enough to make the effect believable.
For a moment, she almost felt like she did die, hanging there and hoping the hidden harness did its job and she wouldn’t really hang by her neck.
When they had all met in a tunnel later to say their last goodbyes for who knew how long, she was happy that she didn't have any tears left to shed. It was almost awkward, standing around in a tunnel being unable to say goodbye to what she'd held onto as family, while the ghosts and soon to be ghosts waited further down to take them into obscurity. Gunshots above them indicated that the last of the live ones had gone the way of the ghost.
Veld's hand was very light on her shoulder as he guided her through the underground, and she glanced back long enough to see Cloud and Reno give each other a nod and walk off, and Rufus Shinra start talking to a girl that reminded her a bit of Veld.
"From here on out, my name is Michael Paladeen and yours is Sabrina Paladeen."
"Are we married?"
He snorted. "If that serves. Or you could be my daughter."
"I guess we'll figure out which when we get there."
---
Once Veld was outside of the city and in the sun more, the idea that they could convincingly be related was more and more ridiculous, because he was clearly part Costan and she was most certainly not. He looked much younger without the pollution and the darkness of Midgar making him so pale, and his wrinkles and scars less severe. Even his hair seemed to be more auburn than gray after a week or two on the road.
Her hair had been cut shorter to minimize people recognizing her, just below her shoulders. Tifa had to give up her black and white dressing scheme as well, opting for things that Aeris probably would have been proud of her wearing, though her dresses were shorter, so as not to restrict her movements.
“Who are you?” she asked, as they were walking on the outskirts of some town that she’d never seen in actuality, but had probably seen a million times before. It was striking how homogeneous the landscape was outside of Midgar.
“We’ve been traveling for a couple weeks and you ask that question now? I would think by now you’d be a little more guarded.”
She frowned at him. “I think maybe who you were might have been dangerous to me at one point, but whoever you are now isn’t that man.”
He clicked his tongue as if he were going to chide her, but instead said something surprising. “I suppose in some ways you’re probably right.”
They used a couple of cheap tin rings reshaped slightly from food cans they purchased in one of the blink and miss it types of towns. It wasn’t like anyone wanted to look at diamonds or crystals of materia anymore.
She did take note that Veld didn’t answer direct questions, though.
---
“I refuse to stand out here in the rain any longer, Michael.”
Tifa found that acting was something that could come naturally to her, but it was the first time she’d ever thought of it that way. All those times she’d smiled and gave an encouraging word when all she wanted to do was to go off by herself and scream, or cry, or anything but be the ever-present support. Sabrina Paladeen was no one’s simple consort, she had all the things that Tifa had always envied in other women, and all the things that she most liked about herself.
After all, one of the first things that her companion had told her was that Tifa Lockheart was dead. But it had occurred to her that for all this time she’d thought of what it was like to be Sabrina, but had never really occupied her space. She was cold and she was tired of Veld trying to haggle with the Innkeeper over their rates.
“Just a moment, dear.”
She slammed some gil onto the counter, and smiled at the Innkeeper. “We’ll take the room now.”
The man handed her a key, and didn’t say anything. Veld smirked, in a way that was not distinguishable between being impressed or annoyed or maybe some other emotion that he had not expressed near her. She was glad that they weren’t actually close friends; he was probably infuriating to those close to him.
But Tifa glared, and he took her bag.
---
It would have surprised Tifa that she would take Veld by the collar, and kiss him like she never had with any other man. Inexperience and confusion had always made her hold back with others, But she had no false memory Clouds or fumbling Sector boys to trip her up, only a professional liar with a relaxed air to him and an experienced attractiveness.
After all, she was Sabrina Paladeen, and they were supposed to be married.
---
He stood out on the balcony the next morning, looking like a man who wanted a cigarette but had quit years ago. If she knew him, that probably could have been true.
Veld--or maybe Michael--turned to smile at her as she joined him.
“I can assure you that I didn’t pick you because you are... well. You’re not stupid and you’ve seen a mirror before.”
“But it can’t hurt, right?”
“No, it can’t.”
There was no future in this, that was for certain. But Tifa, yes even she could admit that wasn’t the sort of thing she wanted to worry about at the moment.
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I really am glad you finished.