Note to Lady Sanzennine: Thanks again for letting me finish this. It's a great world, and I can't tell you how much fun I've had.
Important Note to All: It has come to my attention that Lady Sanzennine does not intend to finish her Aeriseph fic "Dream of Me" at any time in the near future. She's moved on. I haven't. So I've borrowed her world, since she wasn't using it.
I guess that would make this-a fanfic of a fanfic? Unfortunately, that makes this story doubly "not mine." Inasmuch to say: all characters, place-names, etc. belong to SquareSoft. (Don't hurt me big, scary corporation, with big, scary corporate lawyers.) And everything that doesn't belong to Square, belongs to Lady Sanzeninne. And her affiliates.
The complete first seven chapters are here: http :// eternally . reignblood . com / fanfiction / dream . htm
Otherwise, here's the synopsis:
In an alternate FFVII universe, Sephiroth heads a military coup and overthrows Shinra, becoming "Lord Sephiroth." His rule improves many people's lives physically, and he puts an end to the use of Lifestream energy. However, he maintains tight military control of all aspects of life, turning Midgar into a police state, and his people live in fear of him. A resistance movement is growing in strength and popularity.
Years prior to his acension, he and Aeris share a single kiss on the cold, monster-infested plains outside Midgar. The kiss haunts her, and Aeris dreams of him almost nightly.
It haunts Sephiroth, too. The memory of those few minutes makes him increasingly restless, although he does not know if he wants to posess Aeris— or destroy her. Impulsively, he offers a two-million gil reward for her arrest. But when this fails to produce results quickly enough, he hunts the streets for her himself, capturing her in a darkened alley. He returns to his newly-constructed palace/center of operations and installs her in an opulent room adjacent to his own—and also neighboring a blonde, buxom woman named Sandria—his latest mistress.
Now that he has Aeris, however, Sephiroth seems uncertain what to do with her. He nearly makes love to her, and she responds ardently to his attentions, despite being furious with her kidnapper. Sephiroth then informs her that she is to be a servant in his household, and sets her to scrubbing floors.
Two resistance fighters, Lyssa and Jonathan, approach Aeris with pictures of massacres committed by Sephiroth's army, showing Aeris the cruelty that he is capable of. They ask for her help in spying on Sephiroth, but she defers answering them to a later date.
Chapter Seven ends with Aeris waiting at table on Sephiroth and his mistress. Sandria, who rightly perceives Aeris as a threat, trips her, making her drop the dinner tray. Then, as Aeris stoops to clean up, she looks up to see Sephiroth towering over her– and remembers. In another plane, another reality, perhaps in many mirror-realities, Sephiroth is nothing more than a killer—her killer.
An ancient altar.
Still, dark water.
Aeris knelt in a pillar of light—dust motes rising and falling like smoke, like incense, above her.
Oh, Planet, help us now! You're the only one who can!
Her eyes were closed in prayer, lips silently beseeching—and she should have been too absorbed in the task of calling on Planet to notice his coming. Still, even with her eyes closed, she felt his presence, like a cold shadow falling between her and the Planet.
And then—zplisch!—and pain . . . pain fiercer and fierier than any she had ever known.
Her eyes flew open, and she gave a kind of gasping gurgle as her vision confirmed what instinct first had whispered.
He stood behind her, so she could not see him, but she recognized the thin, slow curve of the blade, half of which now protruded from her chest.
A small, detached thought came to her: Now there's an angle of Masamune no one likes to see.
The blade sank deeper yet, and instinct took over— she grabbed at the sword erupting from between her ribs, in too much pain to notice how deeply she sliced her hands on the razor edge.
Her torso was a single, wracking explosion—so she tried to focus on her lower body, which was strangely numb and tingly.
Of course. He struck me straight through the center. My spine is broken.
… I am going to die.
She felt no urge to scream, nor to beg. She only crumpled, collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut.
The edges of her vision blurred, and, for a moment—she forgot her prayer to the planet… forgot the need for Holy… as death approached, it was not her mind that called, but her heart.
Planet, help him! Help him find peace!