Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and all related characters and themes are the copyright of Square Enix. Most of the characters and themes used were taken from the story of Final Fantasy VII by Hironobu Sakaguchi and Yoshitomo Kitase. In addition character design was done by Tetsuya Nomura. All credit to them and their teams where applicable. Ladyhawke and all related themes are the copyright of Time Warner and/or Twentieth Century Fox, I believe. Much of the storyline and dialogue has been adapted and/or paraphrased directly from the Ladyhawke story and screenplay, written by Edward Khmara. Direction of the film cited here was by Richard Donnor. All credit to them and their teams where applicable. I make no profit from this fanfiction and claim no copyright of any of its characters. This is a work done for entertainment purposes only and is to be freely read by any who desire. The work is given freely to the internet domain, the author makes no further claim to it, and it may be used by anyone for anything as long as the above individuals continue to receive their due credit.

Chapter I

The great and glorious city of Aquila shown like a diamond against the vibrant blue of the Eastern Sea. For centuries it had stood, a bastion of peace and culture against the backdrop of the Central Continent. While not as large as the royal capital of Midgar to the northwest, it was nevertheless one of the most beautiful cities in the Kingdom, and indeed, even the world. Walls of pure, polished Kalmian marble guarded a heavenly array of frescoed cathedrals, elaborate villas and dominating fortresses. But Aquila's grandeur was not merely limited to her impressive architecture. She was also the seat of the Grand See of the South, the mighty Bishop of Aquila, second in authority to only the Patriarch of Midgar himself. Centuries before the Cetran religion had been founded in Aquila, and at the time the Patriarch had made his home in the stunning Mythril Manor palace, the heart of the city. After the conversion of the Midgar Royal Family, and subsequent conquest by Midgar of the central plains of the continent, the Patriarch had moved his court to the capital to better influence both spiritual and temporal affairs. However, Aquila was not forgotten, and the Patriarch granted control of the city to an appointed Bishop, a man no less holy than himself and only slightly less honored. There were few cities in the plains, and Aquila became the second city of the kingdom, a hub of trade, politics and religion. City government eventually settled fully into the hands of the Bishop, and the power of the office grew with each newly appointed See sent from the Patriarch. With such a beautiful city to rule, and virtually limitless authority across the central plains, one would think these Bishops to be contented men. And indeed they were... or at least most of them were.

The newest Bishop, Mateus, a holy missionary whose travels in the heathen west had become legendary, was appointed to the office during the last years of Redmond II's reign as King of Midgar. Patriarch Reeve XXI, a well-respected leader, appointed young Father Mateus, then only in his late thirties as the new leader of Aquila, a popular move both in the bishopric and Midgar. And indeed, as Rufus III took over the throne upon his father Redmond's death only a few years later, all seemed well in the Mythril City. But the Bishop was not merely a spiritual man, he was an ambitious one as well. And even as Reeve XXI began to have his doubts about some of his subordinate's decisions, powerful forces began to move within Aquila... all of which centered around the Bishop himself.

"Well, well where is my little mouse? My little Wutaian mouse? I've been waiting all night to visit her, eh!" Harsh laughter filled the air as the portly warden of the Aquiline dungeons sauntered down the catacombs, licking his lips lasciviously. His guards bowed hesitantly at him as they bounded out of his way. Warden Barinten was not a popular man, but he was feared and with good reason. Here in the darkness, in the seemingly unending tunnels of gloom, he was king. The Bishop and his knights rarely came below, preferring to live in their sumptuous Mythril Manor away from such despair. His Grace had appointed Barinten to manage hell while he claimed heaven above. And while the warden was seen as something of a ill-tempered buffoon with notorious habits by many Aquilines, never during his long tenure had any prisoner escaped from this realm of darkness. And His Grace had made it clear to the Warden that if he wished to retain his head atop his shoulders, none ever would.

Barinten was not one to worry much about such things, though. He was a simple man, though terribly effective at what he did. He did not rule the darkness by shrewdness after all, but by fear. Fear of what would be done to any prisoner who took it into their heads to try and escape. Fear of the tales of what had been done to such people in the past. It was said they had begged for death a thousand times over. It was said Barinten made them wait for quite some time before that release of death was at lastgranted.

"Get back dog!" growled the warden at a prisoner stretching forth his hand to beg for food. Barinten paid him about as much attention as he would a mongrel whimpering at his knees. Let the man beg all he wants. He would be kept tired and hungry like all the rest until the end. Why waste food on a doomed man?

At last Barinten arrived at his destination, the cell where his newest prisoner was being kept, his Wutaian mouse. A cute little girl from the eastern lands who was caught picking the pocket of one of the Bishop's acolytes. A grave mistake indeed. Stealing was one thing, but stealing from the clergy was quite another in Aquila. Time for some special instruction, the thought of which nearly made Barinten drool with anticipation. He waved the guard at the door aside and entered the grimy cell.

Ignoring the gibbering lunatic who shared the cell and who was huddled against the wall, he scanned the room for his mouse. She was nowhere to be seen. Barinten spied a lump on one of the cots. He

grinned maliciously. "Time to come out and play, little mouse. The cat has come for you..." The warden ripped off the smelly woolen blanket, but found only dirty bed linens piled up. He peered around the room again. "Where the devil is my mouse..?" He grimaced, disliking the situation. Besides the cots there was no furniture in the cell.

Where else could she be hiding?

"The mouse..? The mouse has left the house!" Barinten turned to peer at the lunatic, a wild-eyed man with only a few teeth left in his mouth and a filthy, unshaven appearance. The obviously insane prisoner had begun to cackle and rhyme in a mocking tone. "No mouse today! She's gone away! To escape the cat, she became a rat!"

The warden flew across the room and pulled man up by his grungy tunic. "You think you're funny, eh crazy one? Let's see how they like your riddles at the scaffold. Guard!" The sentry out front entered at Barinten's bellow. "Where is the one called Yuffie the Mouse? She was supposed to be in this cell!"

The guard surveyed the room. "She was indeed here as of feeding-time. She must be here still, milord."

"Really?" hissed Barinten angrily. "Then where is she praytell? Do you see a girl in here? Eh! If so, please, point her out to me!" He shook the sobbing lunatic with each word he flung at the now cringing guard. "Does this madman look like a Wutaian girl to you? Does that bed over there!" He flung the prisoner to the ground and peered intently at his frightened guard. "No? Then you tell me! Where is she!" The guard swallowed hard, and shrugged wordlessly, hoping the less he said the better. Like the rest of the prison guards he well knew how violent the warden's temper could be.

The lunatic giggled maniacally as he crawled over near a small drainage hole. "The mouse has left the house! She became a rat to avoid the cat! Down this hole like a blind mole!"

Barinten turned back to his prisoner and lifted his heavy boot in the air with every intention of breaking the man's neck underneath it. He stopped when he saw the drain the man pointed to and stared for a moment in confusion. "Hold there old man. Do you mean to say she went down the drain here?"

The guard approached a stunned expression on his face. "It can't be more than six inches across. No one could fit through there!"

Barinten whirled around and backhanded the man, drawing a muffled cry and blood from the man. "And yet someone did! You fool! We must find that little bitch before the Bishop hears about this!"

"Perhaps some pay for my help today?" cringed the crazy prisoner at Barinten's feet.

The warden responded with a kick to his face, knocking out the last of his teeth in the process. "Oh, we've got a reward from you, dog! You'll be first in line for hell today!" He turned back to the guard. "Take this beast to the gallows. Then bring every last man to the sewers beneath the city. We must flush our little mouse out before she finds another hole to make her escape through."

"Please gentle cat, anything but that!" The crazy prisoner reached in supplication the blood running down his chin as he was dragged to his dire fate, but the warden ignored him. He licked his lips again, but this time in worry rather than delight. If that girl was not found, and soon, that madman might not be the only one brought up to the scaffold this day...

"Oh, grossness! This is too slimy!"

The dank quiet of the lowest reaches of Aquila was broken by the whiny cry. It was followed by a diminutive hand breaking though the rot-covered mud of a long unused drainage pipe. The small hand clenched and unclenched it's fingers for an instant, as if to try and grab the intangible air it now felt. Then a dirty, almost unrecognizable human head appeared from the pipe, mouth sucking in air violently.

"Hey!" A cheerful voice came from the mud-head, strangely contrasted to it's filthy visage. "I'm finally out!" A grunt escaped the grimy lips as the arm tried to pull the rest of it's body out.

"I wonder...ugh... if this is what it's like to be born... ugh..!" The arm stopped and the head panted in fatigue for a moment. Suddenly the deep brown, almost black eyes nearly hidden in the mud widened in surprise at it's own words.

"Yeesh, Yuffie! What a thing to think of!" Grunting again the arm pushed harder and an entire body slipped out of the long-forgotten pipe and plunged to the gray tarn which flowed beneath. The young girl had time to scream once before she disappeared into the murky liquid.

Despite the unwholesomeness of the bottom water, Yuffie swan for dear life, her eyes searching the murky depths for any sign of escape. She finally found it in the form of a half-rusted wedge-gate below the water's surface. If there was a gate, surely there was an entrance. Rising quickly and gulping in as much air as she could, Yuffie plungedthrough an area where rust had completely rotted away the gate and began to pump her arms and legs in a wild swim for dear life. Just as she thought she could take no more and must turn back she saw light coming from above. Putting her last strength and air into a desperate attempt she headed for the light.

Nearly jumping out of the water entirely, the young girl gulped in air as if it was the most delicious morsel she had ever tasted. And indeed it was! She had been locked down in that rat's nest for a week with that pig Barinten and his gang of thugs! When she got out of here someone would pay dearly!

With that thought Yuffie began examining her surroundings. She appeared to have escaped to one of the higher catacombs, one still used by the citizens of Aquila as a sewer apparently, her nose wrinkling at the smell. Peering down the far end of the sludgy tunnel she was in, she saw the source of light, an opening to the outside. Grinning in her usual smug way, she began to swim towards salvation.

However she stopped suddenly, realizing she wasn't alone in the water. An evil-looking head floating just above the water's edge was coming right towards her.

"Aaah!" She yelled, jumping out of the water and clambering onto a half-sunken old column. "Keep away you monster!" Unheeding of her impotent cries, the beast kept drifting towards her. Yuffie closed her eyes and raised her brow to the heavens. "Oh, Lord Leviathan, spirit of the Kisaragi clan, please protect your servant! I swear by the five sacred gods I'll never steal again! Just don't let that thing be what I think it is!"

Peering down again, the young girl saw that the 'monster' was nothing more than an old elfadunk skull floating along the water. It drifted past quietly, though Yuffie could have sworn it seemed slightly offended at her rude outburst.

Sighing with relief she plunged back into the abyss and continued to swim towards the light. It didn't take long to find the source. Coming to a rise in the tunnel she looked up and saw a drainage gate leading to freedom above. It was about fifty feet above her, but even with just a slight grip along the walls, that was nothing to a ninja of Wutai. She clambered up to the top as easily as if she were climbing the time-worn trails of Da-Chao cliff near her father's estate back home.

Making her way to the gate she peered out, amazed by the ornate environment it led to. The walls of the edifice the drain ran from where gorgeously sculpted of marble, with colored light streaming in through delicately tinted glass. Standing around the drain were a group of silent men shrouded in pure white robes who seemed to be answering a chanting voice which sang out as if in summons.

Stretching herself to view more, Yuffie saw a tall, hawk-faced man in robes of the finest Wutaian silk striding towards the front of the hall. "The Bishop!" Yuffie nearly hissed in frustration. After all that, she had ended up in the Grand Cathedral of the Mythril Manor! Right under the eyes of the beast! Still, Bishop or no, Grand Cathedral or no, she had to make it out of here.

She put her fingers around the twining steel of the grate. If she was quick and quiet enough maybe she could make it out of this Aquiline hell without being seen. She never noticed the great doors of the cathedral opening, and a spurred cavalry boot walk quickly unto the grate until it stepped right on her fingers. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, only her ninja training keeping her from making a sound. As the boot moved, she lost her grip and fell back to the waters below.

"Damn you Lord Levia...!" The curse never finished as the dark waters of the catacomb seemed to swallow her up. And then there was silence.

Lord Baigan, Captain of the Aquiline Guard, protectors of the Bishop, stared intently at his master giving evening vespers. Caught up in his own musings he barely noticed the service going on around him, though his brow did furrow slightly at a strange splashing noise coming from an old drainage grate below his feet. Shrugging it off, he strode up towards the front of the cathedral, within sight of the Bishop. The holy man's narrowed stare at him caused him to lose courage for an instant, but Baigan was not a faint-hearted man, whatever his other faults. Part of his job, of course, was to report bad news. And he well knew the news he brought this evening would anger His Grace to no end.

Earlier his subordinate, the idiot Barinten, had come scurrying to him begging forgiveness for some failure of his. Baigan, never having much of a liking for the man, swatted him off, his demeanor even less compassionate than usual. It was only at the word 'escape' that he had turned back.

"What was that oaf?" Barinten had blanched at the harsh tone of the Captain, irritating Baigan even further. He had grabbed the flinching warden by the scruff of his tabard. "Who? Who has escaped!"

"Merely... merely a young Wutaian girl, milord. We shall catch her, I swear it! It's just that..." Barinten paused in his genuflection.

"Just what! Speak, you tub of candle-wax, or I'll gut you like the pig you are!"

"We... have looked everywhere, milord... I don't know what else to do..." Barinten, in great contrast to his tone of authority in the dungeons, sounded like a repentant little boy admitting he was the one who stole the cookie.

"Ugh!" grunted Baigan in disgust, tossing the warden to the ground. "You fool! One little girl! I had thought your dungeon impregnable! And one little girl has managed to dupe you!" Baigan's eyes narrowed, targeting the portly man on his knees before him like a crossbow. "I'll have to report this to the Bishop."

Barinten's eyes widened in shock. "No, milord! Anything but that! I'll find the girl I swear it!"

Baigan resisted the urge to smile smugly at the terrified warden. "What is this escaped prisoner's name?" "Yuffie, milord. They call her Yuffie the Mouse. She's been in Aquila for a fortnight, stealing from anyone she can, even the Bishop's own acolytes! Wutaian by the looks of her. She'll be easy to spot, milord."

Baigan now allowed himself a cold smirk. "We'll see. Biggs! Wedge!" He called over two of his men on patrol near the Manor entrance. "Take the warden here and confine him to his own dungeon. Keep him there until the Bishop decides just how to... reward him for such great service."

"Wait, milord! Please, another chance, I beg of you!"

"Put him in with that murderer Dyne!" The Captain called to his men as they dragged the struggling Barinten away. "I'm sure they'll become great friends..." He ignored the warden-turned prisoner's cries and with a slight sigh headed for the Cathedral.

"Say that again, Captain." The Bishop's hawk-like eyes bore into Baigan with a dreadful intensity. The evening service was now over, and the Bishop, surprised at seeing the Captain at such a minor event was intrigued. At the conclusion of vespers he had summoned him into his private garden for an explanation. Now rage boiled up in him at what he heard. "Tell me this news again, for I cannot believe I heard you correctly the first time."

"A prisoner has escaped from the dungeon, milord. A Wutaian girl. We search for her now even as we speak." "No one has ever escaped from the dungeons of Aquila, Captain." The Bishop's voice was quiet, but there was steel in its tone. "The people of this city recognize that as unremittable truth. And now you tell me some vagrant girl has done what no other could? Where is Barinten? How did this happen?"

"I had the warden confined to quarters until you had need of him." The Bishop was not unaware of the gleam of delight in his Captain's eyes at that statement. He knew well that Baigan disliked the warden. "He had no answers for me, however. Would you like me to summon him now?"

"The only summons he will answer is the Cetran God's as he ascends the gallows on the morrow. Such failure will not be tolerated." The Bishop looked meaningfully at the Captain with that last statement, as if to warn him as well. The holy man's lack of patience for incompetence was well-known.

"The warden has given good service in the past. Surely that counts for something..?"

The Bishop waved off Baigan's weak protest. He knew the Captain was only playing Jenova's advocate for his own amusement. No doubt Baigan himself would willingly place the noose over Barinten if he was allowed. "As I said no one has ever escaped from my dungeon. That failure undoes whatever meager service the fool has done in the past. As for you, Captain, you will ride forth yourself and find this girl and bring her back before me, whether dead or alive I do not care. But find her! She must answer both to myself and God for her crimes. And she must be found immediately, before our enemies hear of this embarrassment."

"She's merely a girl, Your Grace. You need not worry so much overthis."

The Bishop's eyes narrowed angrily, causing Baigan to fidget slightly. "Great storms often announce themselves with a simple breeze. I will not allow anyone to disturb the peace I have brought to this city." The Bishop turned and began to walk slowly through the lavish gardens of his manor. He signaled his vassal to follow. "The flames of rebellion can spring up with the slightest spark. This matter must be dealt with, and soon. For your sake as well." He glared with arrogant hostility at his servant.

Baigan bowed deeply, trying to conceal the rueful chagrin coursing through him. "The failure is ultimately mine, of course. I will deliver this mouse to you, personally."

The Bishop's dull gray eyes flickered with satisfied contempt at the abasement. "Yes. I know you will. Now go." He lifted his signet ring to Baigan's face. "And remember, to break faith with me is to break faith with the Cetran God."

With a nod, Baigan kissed the ring and strode off, calling out for his men. Alarm bells began to ring out across the Mythril Manor. The Bishop turned and watched the sun begin to set, trying to ignore the harsh sound as he delicately stoked a perfect pink rose sitting like a jewel among the vines of it's bush.. A shiver ran through him, it's coldness more from painful memory than actual temperature. Closing his eyes in remembrance he saw the vision of an angel... an earthly angel stand before him. It was a vision he knew all too well.

"Ah yes, my dear. These are beautiful. You have such a fine touch with blossoms."

"I'm happy you like them, Your Grace." The friendly smile the young girl wore did not quite touch her sparkling emerald eyes, but the Bishop was too enraptured by her beauty and her flowers to notice.

"I am happy with them... as I am with you. Perhaps you will accompany me to the gala tonight? There will be great entertainments, of course. The finest food and wine... and music for dancing. A girl with your grace must dance beautifully." He placed his hand on her slim shoulder. "I must bear witness to such a sight."

The young lady continued to smile, though her eyes grew troubled at the intensity of the Bishop's words. "My aunt is not well, as you know Your Grace. I could not think to leave her for a whole evening."

A disappointed frown flicked across the holy man's proud features, but he quickly suppressed it. "A lovely young woman like you should not always be playing caretaker to the sick. You should be surrounded by beauty and gaiety. I can open such a world to you. Come with me tonight."

The girl's brow furrowed in worry, but she stood firm. "Your Grace is all kindness, as usual, but I cannot forget my dear aunt Elmyra. She took me in after my parents' deaths and has shown such great love to me. I'm sure Your Grace understands. As tempting as your offer is, I cannot forget those I care about."

The Bishop quivered with rage at being thwarted for a moment, but quickly recovered his composure lest he scare his dove off. "I admire your devotion, as I admire all else about you, my beautiful flower girl. Another time, then. Now go and tend to your unlucky aunt. A shame she is always so ill. But make sure to return tomorrow to tend my gardens. Without you, I fear all this beauty would soon become desolate." He gestured again at the lovely surroundings.

Aerith's innocent face showed relief as she bowed to her master."Thank you Your Grace. I shall return on the morrow." Her step a little too quick, she walked from the gardens as if from escaping from a prison chamber, her pink-ribboned chestnut hair blowing in the coming evening breeze.

The Bishop followed her with hungry eyes. He would let her go for now. But no matter what he alone would possess her. And woe to any who tried to thwart his desires.

Back in the present he turned to stare again at the pink flower before him.

"Aerith." he whispered. "You will come back to me. Someday you will. I alone will have you... or no man shall." Whirling his robes he grasped his lector staff and marched into the Mythril Manor.

The warning bells of Aquila rang out across the verdant fields, tinged brown by the fury of the recent drought. Their sound reached a black-caped man atop a large chocobo, whose plumage was as dark as its rider's own attire. The bird kwehed slightly, causing the man to ruffle the feathers of it's head with rough affection. Pulling back the hood of his cape, he revealed brilliant blue eyes set in a grim face, handsome, but lacking any gentleness or contentment. His eyes which seemed to glow in the late hours of the afternoon narrowed as he peered down at the city of Aquila, the source of the chimes.

Hearing a cry coming from the nearby trees, he raised his gauntleted arm, the silver emblem of a wolf's head emblazoned on his shoulder-guard shimmering in the late-day sun. A dark-feathered hawk flew over and landed on the perch, squawking slightly. The young man's eyes continued to stare at the walled Bishopric. He remembered the first time he saw the city, his youthful eyes impressed at his first real sight of civilization, so different from the backwater village he grew up in. With what awe he had first beheld the great Mythril City! Now all he felt was pain and bitterness.

His hood blew off fully in the wind revealing spiky blonde, windswept hair. Turning his eyes towards the setting sun for a moment, he then rested them on his avian companion perching silently on his arm.

"Almost time..." he muttered grimly.