Chapter Text
Fenris Strife the Mighty, he'd been called, and a better king there had never been, spoken of fondly and with great melancholy.
A King that had left no heir in his wake.
The country of Gaia had torn itself apart for at least three years trying to find a new king but soon subsided to old ways and even older traditions. The sword that had appeared in the center of Midgar, engraved with the words "Whomsoever pulls this sword out of the stone shall be the once and future king." caused the stir of the decade after the wars had petered out.
Many, many knights, lords and even a General or two had tried to pull it out of the stone to no avail.
The sword of the Wolf King sat for years buried near hilt deep in a rock, only for a small set of hands to find it in a moment of desperation.
It started with the loss of Ser Vidar's sword.
No, really, the man was incapable of holding onto a blade given to him more than an hour at most. It had been Cloud's job to keep track of them and get them back to his Knight.
Cloud still didn't understand why he'd been left alone in a cavernous room for at least three lengths of a candle and then some.
Said room was stocked with a single large chair and the sword he'd intended to give to Ser Vidar again. With the sword settled on the chair, he padded around the room, idly noting the torn remains of a wolf-like standard. The room was full of dust so Cloud looked to see if he was being watched and then rolled up his sleeves, cracked open the massive windows and shook out the dusty standard.
It was definitely a Nibel wolf, silver and massive, and it glimmered in the faded sunlight of Midgar. Cloud swept it over his shoulders, stuck his nose into the air and started laughing to himself.
"Oh Ser Vidar's gonna be mad if I don't get him this sword..." Cloud sighed, tied the standard against his chest and picked up the sword again. It was lighter than he'd expected after that first pull from the stone, though it had seemed heavy in Ser Vidar's hands. "The tourney was supposed to start ages ago-"
The huge door at the end of the room burst open. Cloud nearly dropped the sword in his surprise but it spun in his hand, clean as anything and clicked against the harness Ser Vidar had given him out of pity. With the weight of it against his back, he was forced to stand straight or it would have toppled him over.
He almost swallowed his tongue at the sight that greeted him, however.
The three great Generals that had beaten the country back into shape and reversed some of the harsher laws were striding down the dusty carpet runner. Their Commander followed, a man who was known even in Cloud's backwater castle of Nibelheim to be kind and just and very much lived up to the code of chivalry some Knights only laughed at instead of taking it seriously.
Of course, Cloud's stupid mouth had to blurt out, "I didn't steal it, I was borrowing it. It was meant for Ser Vidar and I would've put it right back-"
He slapped his own hands over his mouth, looking up to see amusement instead of anger.
"Borrow the sword of Fenris Strife and put it back, he says, as though its possible to put the sword back once it's been pulled." General Rhapsodos scoffed.
"It is," Cloud muttered, "because I got through pulling it the first time and they told me it was too big for the tourney." Oh dear sweet gods bury him now, he was never going to live this down. "I was going to put it back but Ser Vidar needed the sword and he loses them constantly. I mean, I've considered just strapping a sword to his hand before but that's conduct unbecoming of a squire and—"
The mirth that shook the Commander spilled forth, the violet eyes glowing brightly as he laughed. "You serve Ser Holly Vidar of the Nibel Reach?! Oh no wonder you got caught up in this mess."
"'Mess?'"
"You have the sword of the Wolf King strapped to your back and you look an awful lot like the old man." Cloud cocked his head to the side as Commander Fair continued, "Let me explain."
So Commander Fair walked Cloud through the history of sword as the Generals stood in the background, pausing at the end to look at the standard still attached to Cloud. "Umm, please don't take this the wrong way but have you ever met your Father?"
Cloud's lips twitched briefly into a snarl and he inhaled to keep from yelling. "My Ma raised me for six summers and told me my Father would have loved me dearly, had he but had the time to spend with us. She passed away during my seventh winter and I have been beholden to Ser Vidar and his household ever since."
"General Hewley, if you would be so kind as to retrieve the portrait and Commander Fair, you fetch a mirror." General Crescent-Valentine ordered. The man towered over him but didn't seem to loom like Ser Mueller, nor would he taunt Cloud for such a thing. "King Fenris was smaller in his youth but commissioned the sword once he was fully grown. It's name is First Tsurugi for he had it made before he acquired his trusted steed."
General Hewley brough forth a covered portrait and Commander Fair the mirror, both of them dusty. He flicked his fingers in a combination spell, the mirror cleaned before it was set down on the flagstones.
Cloud had dirt smudged on one cheek, his squire uniform half obscured by the standard and the sword at his shoulder with the handle much higher than his hand could reach. Blond hair that he hacked at with a hunting knife if it got too long, blue eyes that he'd gotten from his Ma and a body still too small for even the smallest uniform.
Next to the Generals... Well, the comparison was embarrassing to say the least.
"This was King Fenris, roughly at your age." General Hewley explained, dark blue eyes soft as he removed the cover. "We thought he'd never taken a wife but the Nibel Reach is far traveling and not for those faint of heart."
The boy in the frame, the one they said was Fenris Strife, looked like Cloud with light green eyes in place of blue. Cloud hesitated and then reached out to trace the familiar features, an ache in his chest that seemed his heart was stretched too full.
"I might be his child but... I'm no king. Nepotism does not a king make, as Ma used to say. I'm not who you're looking for and I'm sorry but I'm gonna to put it back." Cloud said and pulled his hand away from the portrait.
"You're not even going to try?" General Rhapsodos demanded, looking at his companions and then at Cloud himself.
"I..." Cloud pulled the sword off of his back, looked at the portrait and then back at the only thing he had of his father's. "I don't even know how to run a country."
"Hmm. Do you not run errands as Ser Vidar's squire?" General Cresent-Valentine prodded.
"Of course I do but it's... It's simple stuff. Do the laundry, repair and or replace an armful of swords and armor and make sure that he hasn't lost his helmet too. It's nothing close-"
"Does this often include the handling of money?" General Hewley asked.
"Only when I can't find the sword or repair the armor myself and very little at that-"
"Then you at least know finance. And how to be kind to those who wash your clothes." General Rhapsodos pointed out.
"Plus you know general castle cleaning because you cleaned that mirror with a combination house spell." Commander Fair chirruped.
Cloud looked between the four of them and frowned. "Well, if I'm staying, someone ought to tell poor Ser Vidar that he's not getting his squire or his sword back."