Disclaimer: Nope, Final Fantasy X belongs to Squaresoft. *sobs* However,
original characters (my summoner and her party) belong to me.
This is my first FFX fanfic and reviews are greatly appreciated. I've always thought that Auron was a closet romantic (especially when he was younger), but to reveal it would take so much away from his bad ass demeanor. I realize that this first section is somewhat boring, but it's setting the scene with background information for chapters to come.
Also, this story will roughly follow the game up until Bevelle, but I won't be writing out each and every scene. The story will contain spoilers, so if you've beaten the game and/or don't care to be surprised, please read on.
Read and enjoy!
"Kiss From a Rose" Part One
Copyright 2003 by Amie Martin
highlander_bellflower@hotmail.com
*****************************
~Auron--Mushroom Rock~
And the journey continued on.
Thoughts plagued my mind as we trudged forward through the peaks and valleys of Mushroom Rock, silence hanging over the group like a thick storm cloud. I was glad for the silence, having grown tired of Wakka's blitzball rambling and Tidus' constant questions. It was one of the reasons why I stayed in the rear of the group, treasuring the quiet, all the while aware of how fleeting peace actually was.
Everyone had their own inner demons, I was sure of it, but it was something none of us wanted to mention. Yuna, our beautiful summoner, worried over the state of Spira, her pilgrimage, Maester Seymour's sudden attention, and more, but would never openly admit it, choosing instead to keep it all inside. Tidus worried about Yuna, a little more than the rest of us, and for different reasons. Wakka's mind centered on blitzball and his duties as a good Yevonite, something I knew from experience to be a misleading hope. As a Ronso, Kimahri's mind was unreadable, but I figured he, too, had a past to keep secret. And Lulu, I knew, still mourned for the loss of her lover Chappu, and that was a pain that would take a lifetime to fade.
As much as I appeared to be cold and unfeeling, I knew exactly how Lulu felt. I had been in love once, and if circumstances had been different, I would be in love still. The memory was one that haunted me, teased me with what might have been. Secretly I still longed for her, and always would with all my heart. But I was "the legendary Sir Auron." Legendary guardians weren't supposed to fall in love.
I had met her here, in Mushroom Rock, ten years ago, when I accompanied Lord Braska alongside Jecht on his pilgrimage to Zanarkand. Ten years ago, she had been a light in my otherwise bleak existence, showing me more than anyone, including Braska, could ever have. I called her my love, my life, a myriad of similar things. She only gave a little laugh, and said that I was her guardian of her heart, for all time.
Yes, even legendary guardians fell in love. Here, in the silence of Mushroom rock, I couldn't help but let the memories drag me back . . .
***Flashback--Ten Years Before***
I fell to the ground with a thud, pain searing throughout my body. My right hand lashed out in search of my katana, but all I grasped was air. The pain was causing paralysis; I must have been poisoned during the battle. I struggled to life my head to see how the battle progressed. Through my hazy vision, I watched as Braska and his Ifrit took heavy damage just as Jecht seemed to be down for the count. I had never seen, much less fought, a Garuda this large, and it clearly had the upper hand. Again I tried to sit up, to rejoin the battle, but my strength had abandoned me, and I collapsed back to the ground.
Something dark streaked overhead, the blurry form joining Braska's side in the fight. Two dark-haired men approached Jecht, one with a large blade and the other with fists of steel, and began fighting alongside him. I couldn't comprehend what was happening; had someone come to our aid, or was I imagining it all?
A small hand brushed back the hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail. "Shh, just relax," a gentle voice said soothingly.
"I have to--keep--fighting . . ." I protested, trying again to sit up, but a pair of hands slammed into me, forcing me back down.
"You're poisoned. You're not going to do yourself or your friends any good in battle."
"But I--"
"No buts. Here, drink this." She had a vial to my lips, and the thick liquid dripped down my throat, producing a burning sensation. I had forgotten just how much I hated antidotes. "It's not the best tasting stuff in the world, I know, but you've got to do what you've got to do, right?"
My vision cleared somewhat, enough for me to see my benefactor. A woman in a long white robe kneeled beside me, her long black hair peeking out from beneath the hood she wore. Her eyes were sky blue, sparkling with innocence, and she smiled as she noticed that I was looking at her.
"A white mage?" I asked, confused. What would a white mage be doing in the middle of Mushroom Rock?
"Yes, a white mage." She nodded, as if in confirmation. "My name is Corone. What's yours?"
"Auron." I tried to lift my head in greeting, but it felt as heavy as one of the nearby boulders, and my muscles strained with the effort.
Noticing my attempt, Corone winced and said, "The antidote's not working fast enough; you must have gotten hit with a higher dose of poison than I originally thought. I'm going to cast Esuna on you, all right?"
I grunted in agreement. As she murmured in prayer, I asked, "So, what's a white mage like you doing out here, anyway?"
The words died from Corone's throat, and a greenish sparkling sphere engulfed me. As it dissipated, feeling returned to my limbs, and I clenched my fist in satisfaction.
"We are on a pilgrimage, the same as you." Corone sat cross-legged on the ground. "We were in the right place at the right time, I guess."
"Then, where is your summoner?"
Corone giggled. "Helping your summoner, of course. She loves being in the heat of battle."
Again I tried to sit up, and this time Corone's arm slipped around my shoulder to help me. The battle still continued ahead of me, but I could see the Garuda was weakening. The Garuda was surrounded by two aeons and three fighters, the other two men I assumed to be guardians like Corone. Braska's Ifrit was easy to recognize, but the other aeon . . . I had never seen anything like it before. The aeon resembled Valefor, only it was cast in shimmering darkness, outlined in greys, blacks, and silvers. There was a power to this aeon that Braska didn't have, as if this summoner had a darker spirit. I was tempted to ask Corone why, but the words eluded me, and I stayed silent.
Before our eyes, the Garuda collapsed, transforming into a thousand pyreflies. The man with the blade sheathed his weapon, while the other man clenched and unclenched his fists. Jecht cheered in celebration, and I winced with shame. Both summoners dismissed their respective aeons and turned to join the group. It was then that I realized that this was no ordinary summoner.
She wore a tight-fighting black coat with a plunging neckline and buttons down to her waist, at which point the coat flared out and cascaded to the ground. The dress she wore underneath was a bright sky blue, matching her eyes perfectly. Her hair was gathered in a high ponytail, forming a raven waterfall down her back. She and Corone shared the same face--identical twins, they had to be--but she had something deeper, darker, just beneath the surface. The staff she carried was blue and silver, an elaborate design of knots and turns at the top, and she held the weapon with such grace that she seemed to be a dancer among the aeons. In that moment I knew I was attracted to her, to the depth that no other summoner had ever had.
Snippets from her conversation with Braska floated to my ears as Corone helped me to my feet. "Thank you for coming when you did," Braska was saying, bowing to her in prayer. "Praise be to Yevon."
"Praise be to Yevon," she answered, her voice low and melodic as she bowed in return. Leaning against Corone, I found myself lost in that voice, that beautiful sound. "It was our pleasure to help you."
"And for that we are grateful. You, too, are on your pilgrimage, my lady?"
"Yes, although I had not expected to encounter travelers such as yourselves." She glanced at Corone and I, and our eyes met for the briefest second, and she smiled at me. Mentally I kicked myself for being so easily swayed by her charms; I had not been trained to act like this. "Do your guardians require care?" she asked, both to Braska and to Corone. "My twin is a white mage and could be of great help."
Corone shrugged as she let me go, joining her sister. "Auron here will be just fine," she said, "nothing a few potions can't handle."
The summoner smiled. "That's good. Should you need anything else--"
Standing behind her, the man with the fists encased in steel rested his hands on her shoulders. "We should get going," he said, his violet eyes unreadable.
"Ziletto, will you stop acting like my guardian and just be my big brother for a change?" The summoner brought one hand to her temple, but did not shrug away from Ziletto's gloved hands.
"He's got a point, though," the swordsman agreed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his green eyes flashing. "The fiends are rampant today. It's best to keep moving. Unless you think your black magic and summons will keep away all of the fiends."
Black magic . . . so that was why her Valefor seemed so dark. Most summoners, Braska included, were priests, white mages, or both. This summoner, as a black mage, was something unique indeed, and I found that to be intriguing.
Meanwhile, Corone was laughing. "Of course she does, Othello. Even when we were little she was always the one to go exploring and wanted to do everything on her own. But I concur--we should keep going. Djose's waiting . . ."
With a sigh, the summoner nodded, her hand falling to her side. "All right, all right, we'll go. I'm sure that we'll run into each other again, Lord . . ."
"Braska," I supplied, cutting into the conversation. It was rude, I knew, but I had to talk to her face to face, I had to hear the words spoken just for me. "You still haven't given us your name, Lady."
She smiled, her sky blue eyes locked with mine, and in that instant I knew everything--my interruption, the battle, Braska's pilgrimage, even life itself--was suddenly worth the effort.
***End Flashback***
I shook my head and readjusted my katana's position on my shoulder. That was ten years ago, now, and the memories still haunted me. My body ached for her presence, longed for her touch. It had been ten years . . . I missed her.
In my mind, I was such a sap. No better than Tidus was now, with his growing love for Yuna. The only difference was that I kept it hidden inside, where no one knew it existed. Except for her, of course . . .
Gazing back over the party, I was glad to see that nothing had changed while I was distracted by memories. The silence still lingered, everyone preparing for Operation Mi'ihen in their own way, and I should have been doing the same. Memories, like everything else, had their own place and time, and I would worry about them later.
Still, if I listened carefully, the wind seemed to whisper her name . . .
Katralina . . .
*****************************
A/N: So, what do you guys think? Please read and review! I'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as possible.
And I'm pretty sure that the potions and spells don't work quite as they're described, but I think I can take a little artistic license there.
This is my first FFX fanfic and reviews are greatly appreciated. I've always thought that Auron was a closet romantic (especially when he was younger), but to reveal it would take so much away from his bad ass demeanor. I realize that this first section is somewhat boring, but it's setting the scene with background information for chapters to come.
Also, this story will roughly follow the game up until Bevelle, but I won't be writing out each and every scene. The story will contain spoilers, so if you've beaten the game and/or don't care to be surprised, please read on.
Read and enjoy!
"Kiss From a Rose" Part One
Copyright 2003 by Amie Martin
highlander_bellflower@hotmail.com
*****************************
~Auron--Mushroom Rock~
And the journey continued on.
Thoughts plagued my mind as we trudged forward through the peaks and valleys of Mushroom Rock, silence hanging over the group like a thick storm cloud. I was glad for the silence, having grown tired of Wakka's blitzball rambling and Tidus' constant questions. It was one of the reasons why I stayed in the rear of the group, treasuring the quiet, all the while aware of how fleeting peace actually was.
Everyone had their own inner demons, I was sure of it, but it was something none of us wanted to mention. Yuna, our beautiful summoner, worried over the state of Spira, her pilgrimage, Maester Seymour's sudden attention, and more, but would never openly admit it, choosing instead to keep it all inside. Tidus worried about Yuna, a little more than the rest of us, and for different reasons. Wakka's mind centered on blitzball and his duties as a good Yevonite, something I knew from experience to be a misleading hope. As a Ronso, Kimahri's mind was unreadable, but I figured he, too, had a past to keep secret. And Lulu, I knew, still mourned for the loss of her lover Chappu, and that was a pain that would take a lifetime to fade.
As much as I appeared to be cold and unfeeling, I knew exactly how Lulu felt. I had been in love once, and if circumstances had been different, I would be in love still. The memory was one that haunted me, teased me with what might have been. Secretly I still longed for her, and always would with all my heart. But I was "the legendary Sir Auron." Legendary guardians weren't supposed to fall in love.
I had met her here, in Mushroom Rock, ten years ago, when I accompanied Lord Braska alongside Jecht on his pilgrimage to Zanarkand. Ten years ago, she had been a light in my otherwise bleak existence, showing me more than anyone, including Braska, could ever have. I called her my love, my life, a myriad of similar things. She only gave a little laugh, and said that I was her guardian of her heart, for all time.
Yes, even legendary guardians fell in love. Here, in the silence of Mushroom rock, I couldn't help but let the memories drag me back . . .
***Flashback--Ten Years Before***
I fell to the ground with a thud, pain searing throughout my body. My right hand lashed out in search of my katana, but all I grasped was air. The pain was causing paralysis; I must have been poisoned during the battle. I struggled to life my head to see how the battle progressed. Through my hazy vision, I watched as Braska and his Ifrit took heavy damage just as Jecht seemed to be down for the count. I had never seen, much less fought, a Garuda this large, and it clearly had the upper hand. Again I tried to sit up, to rejoin the battle, but my strength had abandoned me, and I collapsed back to the ground.
Something dark streaked overhead, the blurry form joining Braska's side in the fight. Two dark-haired men approached Jecht, one with a large blade and the other with fists of steel, and began fighting alongside him. I couldn't comprehend what was happening; had someone come to our aid, or was I imagining it all?
A small hand brushed back the hair that had fallen loose from my ponytail. "Shh, just relax," a gentle voice said soothingly.
"I have to--keep--fighting . . ." I protested, trying again to sit up, but a pair of hands slammed into me, forcing me back down.
"You're poisoned. You're not going to do yourself or your friends any good in battle."
"But I--"
"No buts. Here, drink this." She had a vial to my lips, and the thick liquid dripped down my throat, producing a burning sensation. I had forgotten just how much I hated antidotes. "It's not the best tasting stuff in the world, I know, but you've got to do what you've got to do, right?"
My vision cleared somewhat, enough for me to see my benefactor. A woman in a long white robe kneeled beside me, her long black hair peeking out from beneath the hood she wore. Her eyes were sky blue, sparkling with innocence, and she smiled as she noticed that I was looking at her.
"A white mage?" I asked, confused. What would a white mage be doing in the middle of Mushroom Rock?
"Yes, a white mage." She nodded, as if in confirmation. "My name is Corone. What's yours?"
"Auron." I tried to lift my head in greeting, but it felt as heavy as one of the nearby boulders, and my muscles strained with the effort.
Noticing my attempt, Corone winced and said, "The antidote's not working fast enough; you must have gotten hit with a higher dose of poison than I originally thought. I'm going to cast Esuna on you, all right?"
I grunted in agreement. As she murmured in prayer, I asked, "So, what's a white mage like you doing out here, anyway?"
The words died from Corone's throat, and a greenish sparkling sphere engulfed me. As it dissipated, feeling returned to my limbs, and I clenched my fist in satisfaction.
"We are on a pilgrimage, the same as you." Corone sat cross-legged on the ground. "We were in the right place at the right time, I guess."
"Then, where is your summoner?"
Corone giggled. "Helping your summoner, of course. She loves being in the heat of battle."
Again I tried to sit up, and this time Corone's arm slipped around my shoulder to help me. The battle still continued ahead of me, but I could see the Garuda was weakening. The Garuda was surrounded by two aeons and three fighters, the other two men I assumed to be guardians like Corone. Braska's Ifrit was easy to recognize, but the other aeon . . . I had never seen anything like it before. The aeon resembled Valefor, only it was cast in shimmering darkness, outlined in greys, blacks, and silvers. There was a power to this aeon that Braska didn't have, as if this summoner had a darker spirit. I was tempted to ask Corone why, but the words eluded me, and I stayed silent.
Before our eyes, the Garuda collapsed, transforming into a thousand pyreflies. The man with the blade sheathed his weapon, while the other man clenched and unclenched his fists. Jecht cheered in celebration, and I winced with shame. Both summoners dismissed their respective aeons and turned to join the group. It was then that I realized that this was no ordinary summoner.
She wore a tight-fighting black coat with a plunging neckline and buttons down to her waist, at which point the coat flared out and cascaded to the ground. The dress she wore underneath was a bright sky blue, matching her eyes perfectly. Her hair was gathered in a high ponytail, forming a raven waterfall down her back. She and Corone shared the same face--identical twins, they had to be--but she had something deeper, darker, just beneath the surface. The staff she carried was blue and silver, an elaborate design of knots and turns at the top, and she held the weapon with such grace that she seemed to be a dancer among the aeons. In that moment I knew I was attracted to her, to the depth that no other summoner had ever had.
Snippets from her conversation with Braska floated to my ears as Corone helped me to my feet. "Thank you for coming when you did," Braska was saying, bowing to her in prayer. "Praise be to Yevon."
"Praise be to Yevon," she answered, her voice low and melodic as she bowed in return. Leaning against Corone, I found myself lost in that voice, that beautiful sound. "It was our pleasure to help you."
"And for that we are grateful. You, too, are on your pilgrimage, my lady?"
"Yes, although I had not expected to encounter travelers such as yourselves." She glanced at Corone and I, and our eyes met for the briefest second, and she smiled at me. Mentally I kicked myself for being so easily swayed by her charms; I had not been trained to act like this. "Do your guardians require care?" she asked, both to Braska and to Corone. "My twin is a white mage and could be of great help."
Corone shrugged as she let me go, joining her sister. "Auron here will be just fine," she said, "nothing a few potions can't handle."
The summoner smiled. "That's good. Should you need anything else--"
Standing behind her, the man with the fists encased in steel rested his hands on her shoulders. "We should get going," he said, his violet eyes unreadable.
"Ziletto, will you stop acting like my guardian and just be my big brother for a change?" The summoner brought one hand to her temple, but did not shrug away from Ziletto's gloved hands.
"He's got a point, though," the swordsman agreed, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his green eyes flashing. "The fiends are rampant today. It's best to keep moving. Unless you think your black magic and summons will keep away all of the fiends."
Black magic . . . so that was why her Valefor seemed so dark. Most summoners, Braska included, were priests, white mages, or both. This summoner, as a black mage, was something unique indeed, and I found that to be intriguing.
Meanwhile, Corone was laughing. "Of course she does, Othello. Even when we were little she was always the one to go exploring and wanted to do everything on her own. But I concur--we should keep going. Djose's waiting . . ."
With a sigh, the summoner nodded, her hand falling to her side. "All right, all right, we'll go. I'm sure that we'll run into each other again, Lord . . ."
"Braska," I supplied, cutting into the conversation. It was rude, I knew, but I had to talk to her face to face, I had to hear the words spoken just for me. "You still haven't given us your name, Lady."
She smiled, her sky blue eyes locked with mine, and in that instant I knew everything--my interruption, the battle, Braska's pilgrimage, even life itself--was suddenly worth the effort.
***End Flashback***
I shook my head and readjusted my katana's position on my shoulder. That was ten years ago, now, and the memories still haunted me. My body ached for her presence, longed for her touch. It had been ten years . . . I missed her.
In my mind, I was such a sap. No better than Tidus was now, with his growing love for Yuna. The only difference was that I kept it hidden inside, where no one knew it existed. Except for her, of course . . .
Gazing back over the party, I was glad to see that nothing had changed while I was distracted by memories. The silence still lingered, everyone preparing for Operation Mi'ihen in their own way, and I should have been doing the same. Memories, like everything else, had their own place and time, and I would worry about them later.
Still, if I listened carefully, the wind seemed to whisper her name . . .
Katralina . . .
*****************************
A/N: So, what do you guys think? Please read and review! I'll try to have the next chapter up as soon as possible.
And I'm pretty sure that the potions and spells don't work quite as they're described, but I think I can take a little artistic license there.