Fan Fiction ❯ Wings ❯ Confrontation ( Chapter 2 )

Author's Notes:

 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or locations depicted in this fanfic. If I did, I might never leave my house.

 

Warning: I still don't have a beta reader. I do accept constructive criticism, and might even edit this and the previous chapter if I get one.

 

Sephiroth: I have some criticism.

 

Miaren: Erm.... Ye-es?

 

Sephiroth: This file name on your computer - “Sephiku”?? That's has to be the most pathetic thing I've ever been called by you fangirls!

 

Miaren: *sweatdrop* Ah - your pardon, sir. It was not intended as a diminutive, but as a pairing shorthand.

 

Sephiroth: *fingers Masamune* I expect to see that I am properly depicted in this story.

 

Miaren: *gulp* And so, in order to save my unworthy hide, on to the next chapter! R&R, please!

 

Chapter 2

 

Riku spun to face the newcomer, hand reaching for a blade that did not appear. A single black wing folded gracefully behind the figure that now stood between Riku and the stairway. He had seen this man before, back in those shadowed days when he had turned his back on everything he had known before. He had been sent to the Coliseum, but Riku had never learned how he had fared.

“Sephiroth,” he breathed, fighting to steady the sudden flutter in his chest. Even with the Keyblade, he doubted that he could hold his own against the Masamune. “Why have you come here?”

A half-smile played across the other's face. “Didn't you know? This place is as much mine as it is theirs. By rights, I should be asking you that question.”

Riku tried to meet Sephiroth's gaze defiantly, but those strange eyes - so like the blonde warrior's - pulled too strongly. He masked confusion with indifference, and leaned against the balustrade. “Seemed like a good enough place to visit.”

“Nothing better to do? Or, nowhere else to go?” The silky voice sliced through the swirling wind.

Riku felt a flush creeping over his face. His eyes blazed as he searched the other's face for signs of mockery, but those bottomless eyes repelled any attempt to read them.

“I thought as much,” said the older man, never losing that half-smile. Then, to Riku's surprise, he stepped away from the top of the stairway, opening a retreat. Warily, Riku watched him stride over to the farther edge of the terrace. He shifted his attention to escape, weighing his chances of reaching the stairway, his room, a real blade. He didn't like his odds. He flexed his fingers again, closing them on the betrayal of the absent Keyblade.

Maybe this was how it was supposed to end. Betrayal to the betrayer. He shifted his weight toward the stairs, but froze as another gust of wind assaulted the terrace. There was a sound like the crack of a sail, and he glanced back at Sephiroth. The former general's wing was fully extended, his hair and coat swirling in the wind. He caught his breath, feeling the wind rush through his own hair, and for a moment he felt as if he could dissolve into it.

It was a moment too long.

“You feel it in your blood, don't you.”

Riku flinched. Sephiroth hadn't turned around, but he now had no doubt that the other was aware of his every movement.

“There was a reason you were drawn here, to this world, this terrace.”

“I told you -“

The black wing struck powerfully, and Sephiroth closed the distance between them like a thought. Riku stopped considering the staircase as an escape route. He squeezed closer to the balustrade.

“You told me the same things you tell yourself, thinking that I'd believe them more than you do.” The half-smile was gone now, but Riku still couldn't see any hint of what emotion had replaced it.

“I'm not - I'm not with Ansem anymore,” he forced out. He was on the defensive now, and it was not a place he liked being.

“No one is.” The half-smile had returned, seeming a little more predatory than before.

“Hollow Bastion doesn't mean anything to me.” His voice was stronger now, and again he considered how much the rising winds would batter him if he jumped.

“And yet you came here, instead of someplace that did.”

“That's my business,” he retorted. A roll of thunder underscored his words. For an instant, he was back on the beach on that fateful night. No! He forced Destiny Islands back into his past.

Sephiroth said nothing, holding Riku's eyes with his own. A flash of lightning illuminated the precipice. Riku glanced over the edge, then back at Sephiroth.

Escape was impossible, he realized. He had little doubt that Sephiroth could reach him in moments even if he were to make a dive for the very depths of Hollow Bastion's dungeons, and he'd be in even less able to defend himself after that fall.

The thunder crashed, and Riku made his move.

Sephiroth was ready. Lightning-quick, he struck, burying his left hand in Riku's hair and forcing the younger man's head back. The first spatters of rain reached the balcony, and Riku felt one strike his exposed throat, trickling in a cold line across his jugular. Was that how the blade would feel? A shiver escaped his control. He closed his eyes, accepting his fate.

Warm lips crushed against his own.

His eyes flew open, but his vision was obscured by a fall of silver hair. A startled cry forced its way out of his throat. Bottomless eyes met his from mere inches away. Riku felt the soft caress of a wing feather and found himself staggering towards the stairway.

Not trusting the fortune of his sudden freedom, he bolted for his room. No - not his room. Not that room. Blindly, he raced through the hallways of the castle until he collapsed in a dark, windowless passage.

As he stared into the darkness, waiting for his lungs to stop burning, his mind was a whirl. What had just happened? Not only had he escaped, but Sephiroth had never even drawn his sword.

No. He hadn't escaped. He had been released. He hadn't even been able to put up a fight.

His sword - Riku felt a pang of despair. The Keyblade hadn't answered to him. He had called to it as he had so many times before, and it hadn't appeared. Was he no longer worthy of it? Trembling, he reached again for the weapon.

His hand closed around cool metal, reassuringly solid. Riku sagged in relief, clutching it like a talisman, and his tremors gradually stilled. In the depths of Hollow Bastion, a warm glow illuminated his uneasy sleep.

* * * * * * *

One other light burned in the castle. High above the terrace, obscured from below by the ornate structure, perched a set of rooms inaccessible from inside the building. Rainwater dripped from ebon feathers and silver hair. Sephiroth raised a glass of wine like liquid rubies.

“We are more alike than you think - fledgling.”

 

And so the dark seduction begins... I've had the tune “Wandering Child” from “Phantom of the Opera” running through my head for the past several weeks as I've been writing these two scenes. What shall I do with these two? Why did the Keyblade fail to appear? What does Sephiroth know? What other questions should I answer?

 

Until next time!