To Zanarkand

By Tari

Hey! I have had this idea in my head for a while – but decided to wait until "Unbreak My Heart" was finished before I started expanding the plot or even started writing this. This is my first attempt at AU so I apologise if this is not very original. I know that the plot will probably raise a few eyebrows at first, but I do not intend to carry out the original setting for very long. Perhaps just the first and a small part of the second chapter will take place in the brothel.

Rikku, the Princess of the Al Bhed is kidnapped from her home and taken to Zanarkand, where she is forced into work for an evil man who intends to sell her body for money. Auron, who regularly visits the brothel to "wind down" comes across the girl and is repulsed by the situation in which she has found herself in, inevitably rescues her. Living with Auron, Rikku has found happiness, but will this simple emotion be long-lived as her captors return to seek revenge?

Quick note from me: Auron and Rikku are 35 and 17 respectively. Auron's personality and appearance pretty much follow the game – however, Rikku's character will be subject to change with the hardships she may face. Auron did not receive his scar from his battle with Yunalesca – you will learn later in the story how he acquired it. I haven't decided yet whether or not Yuna, Tidus and the gang will make an appearance at some point – watch this space!

Dedication: This is dedicated to my beta, ImInDenial, who encouraged me to write this unique story and has even helped me to write some of it. I hope that this lives up to your expectations! Thanks for everything – huggles!

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X or any associated characters. I do own the plot, kidnappers and manager of the brothel, though! OH! And I do own the gorgeous Auron figure that stands proudly on top of my television complete with katana and detachable fighting/resting arm that my best friend gave me for Christmas, however! Squee!

Chapter One: Their Stories

Huddled in a miserable heap in a dark corner of the ornately furnished room, the tears continued to tumble endlessly down Rikku's cheeks, glistening like precious diamonds in the intensity of the starlight that filtered through the open window. In the streets outside, she could hear the animated chatter of the crowd; the soothing hum of the crickets' wings as life continued as normal in Zanarkand: blissfully unaware of the torment and cruelty suffered by the little Al Bhed who mourned for her lost innocence.

Her clothes torn beyond all recognition, Rikku remained crumpled and bleeding on the unforgiving floor. Her limbs aching from the horrors that she had been subjected to, the broken girl curled into herself, her battered body crying out in protest as she lay down upon the lush, thick rug that carpeted the whole room.

Her weary emerald eyes, shining with the evidence of her shed tears, closed defiantly as they fought to remember the hazy images of her past life. Rikku sniffled in the darkness as she struggled to remember the beloved faces of her family, their smiling faces almost lost to memory. Her life had been stolen from her: all evidence of her past scattered; her dignity molested by the pack of vultures that fought to tame her.

This was not as she had planned her future to be: the plaything of others as they existed only to seek forgetfulness in the company of vulnerable women. The path had barely unfurled before her feet when Rikku had been ruthlessly snatched from her home and brought here to Zanarkand where she had been forced to serve a cruel master: one who regularly beat her and expected the girl to earn her keep by selling her body for payment.

The torment she had suffered at the hands of her captors left her scarred both mentally and physically. Her weapons taken from her, Rikku was defenceless as she was repeatedly attacked, the countless blows reigning down upon her body continuously until she effectively passed out with the horrific pain. Her spirit broken, she existed only in their company as a hollow being, her eyes devoid of emotion as she surrendered herself completely to their superiority.

As every torturous second passed in the daunting presence of her captors, Rikku found herself thinking of her parents, the colour returning momentarily to her shrunken cheeks as she wondered idly whether or not her powerful father her sent out envoys to the numerous regions of Spira, his demands threatening as he continued in his relentless quest to rescue his only daughter.

Somewhere in the deepest chamber of her heart, Rikku knew that this surmise was probably accurate; however, the taunting words of her kidnappers echoed tantalisingly in the fragile confines of her mind, their false words powerful and overbearing in her weakened state.

"They do not love you," the vehement voices whispered to her in the overwhelming darkness, their clawing, vicious words scrabbling desperately at her consciousness. "Your parents are happy that you have been taken from their midst. Your father wanted sons to rule his kingdom in his stead – not a worthless, despicable female like yourself."

The door to the room creaked torturously open, drawing Rikku away from her thoughts as the heavy footsteps of the intruder were muffled upon the thick carpeting. Raising her red-rimmed eyes, she was met with a disgusted sneer from the owner of the establishment who threw revealing clothes in her direction, barely enough to make up for her lack of.

Rikku's gaze immediately lowered to her lap, regarding the outfit and wrinkling her nose in disgust at what she was being forced to wear. The delicate, rose patterned, pink skirt left nothing to the imagination whilst the matching shirt was little better, the skin-tight material indecently accentuating her developing curves. Sensing the upcoming rebellion, the manager leapt forward with an angry snarl, his filthy hands tangling in Rikku's dishevelled, golden hair, hauling her unceremoniously upwards until they were eye level.

The girl resisted the urge to recoil in horror as the man's putrid breath wafted over her face, spittle issuing from his mouth as he bared his yellowing teeth. "Do not expect to be treated like royalty here, you little slut," he yelled, releasing Rikku from his death-like grip and slapping her roughly across the face. "You have to learn that people in this city have to earn their living. Now get dressed before I throw you out on the street and leave you to the dogs." He backed away from the girl, his malevolent dark eyes seething with anger as he picked up the discarded clothes and threw them at her once more. "Now, I want you to treat this one real nice. He's a regular customer so if I hear of any of your nonsense tonight, I'll kill ya – understand?"

Rikku cradled her stinging cheek in her hand as her boss stormed out of the room, the door slamming in his wake and locking it, making the whole establishment tremor violently. His hand print smarting like an angry tattoo, tears escaped from her emerald eyes in the aftermath of the abuse. Through time, she came to realise that it was not the physical restraints that held her confined to this room – but simply the fear of what might happen if she was caught trying to escape.

Her limbs shaking with the knowledge of what was about to take place that night and the fact that she was powerless to prevent it, her lips began to quiver with barely restrained emotion as Rikku resigned herself to her fate. She silently dressed herself in the clothes that had been provided, praying to whatever higher power that was listening that she could be spared from the horrific deeds that she was to be subjected to this coming night.

Auron ran a distracted hand through his greying hair as he came to a halt outside the dilapidated building, eyeing the solid oak doors with a momentary bout of apprehension visible amongst the solemnity. Even though he visited this establishment on a regular basis, the warrior still remained doubtful of his continuous presence here.

Whilst it was true that the women here offered him a temporary release from all of the accumulated stress, Auron often found himself contemplating whether he was doing the right thing, entrusting his worries into the hands of the vulnerable women who worked here. He sighed deeply as his battle-worn, calloused hand reached upwards to trace the cruel scar that marred his handsome face.

The reward for his defiance of just punishment.

Auron knew that no woman could ever grow to love him – his personality, almost non-existent, gave him no cause to appear attractive in their eyes. He knew that many desperate women lusted after his succulent body – but he had no time to act on such fantasies. Hypocritical, considering his regular visits to the brothel.

Rubbing his unshaven chin in a thoughtful manner, Auron paid no more heed to his thoughts as he strode without hesitation into the building, his posture erect and uncaring.

The warrior entered the reception area of the brothel and approached the desk as he waited for someone to tend to his growing needs. Auron's long fingers rapped smartly on the wood, his other hand securing firmly around the neck of his sake jug which hung at his side. He took a deep gulp of the alcohol, feeling the effects quelling any doubt that still remained in his system.

A floorboard creaked overhead and unconcerned; Auron reattached the container which held the strong beverage to the colourful beads that hung from the exterior of his coat. He fingered the beads reminiscently as the light bulbs which hung overhead began to flicker distractedly and this caught the man's attention. He took this time to regard the foyer in which he now stood as Auron continued to wait for assistance.

The small, dirty room greatly reflected that of the ones found on upper levels. The walls were damp, almost bare in many places and the lurid stench of rotting wood was overwhelming at first, but Auron had managed to block out the smell altogether. The carpet was ancient, worn away almost completely in places – covered in numerous holes and what looks suspiciously like mouse droppings. It was not the most pleasing sight to look at, but the elegant rooms at the top of the winding staircase differed greatly in comparison.

At long last, the owner of the establishment emerged from the direction of the stairway, his greedy eyes raking over the warrior's muscular body as he rubbed his hands together in earnest. He knew of the man's status in Zanarkand and all too well the copious amount of money that he paid for the women offered to him. Punctual as alwayshe thought with a smirk, his body language betraying none of his inner thoughts.

"Sorry for the wait, good sir, there was a problem that needed to be dealt with."

Auron regarded the man with disgust as he licked his lips, his small, beady eyes filled with lust as he continued to ramble on, completely oblivious for the moment of his impatient customer. He stooped to retrieve the leather-bound book from a dusty shelf in the rickety desk, his shining, bald head bared to Auron as he did so. A moment later, the book was opened to reveal the youthful, incestuous faces of some of the women who worked here – their faces covered in a carefully crafted mask of perfection. Their haunting, hollow eyes, however, told the warrior a completely different story entirely.

The manager dramatically paused to wipe a bead of sweat from his brow as he barely spared a glance to the visages of the many women whose lives he had ruined – their faces frozen despite the passing years, their succulent lips held in a false, eternal smile.

Auron doubted whether most of these women were yet living, judging by the deterioration of the photographs.

Winking heavily at the warrior, his voice lowering considerably, the owner beckoned Auron to move forward as his dirty fingernails scrabbled at the corners of the yellowing pages, almost ripping them in his haste to reveal his intentions. "This one just arrived yesterday."

Finding the desired page, he pushed the book eagerly towards Auron, inviting him to look at a specific photograph indicated. "I have no doubt that you will disagree with me when I say that she is the prettiest little thing that you will ever lay your eyes on!"

His eyebrows furrowing, Auron lowered his single, functioning eye to the page, his breath momentarily constricting in his throat. Captivating emerald eyes stared sadly up at his scarred face, all traces of a smile vanished from her lips altogether. The girl's shining, golden tresses hung loosely about her youthful face, barely kissing the tips of her collarbone – giving the beautiful female the appearance of an angel. Her half-naked body was manoeuvred into a highly uncomfortable position, nevertheless alluring, to satiate the hunger of male visitors.

Auron felt his attention drawn once more to her eyes, shining with such an infinite sadness that he could never have felt possible. Of all the females depicted in the horrendous volume of choice, this was the only one who refused to wear a guise: she wore her emotions openly, visible for all to see.

"Her name is Rikku."

The warrior glanced up, unaware that his companion had been watching his reaction so attentively. A smirk played across the contours of his lips as he detected the hint of lust evident in Auron's eye: his yearning for the girl's body written clearly in the hazel depths.

Without waiting for an answer, he snatched the book from the warrior's hands, replacing it into the interior of the desk. He motioned for Auron to follow him as he turned toward the regal staircase which led to the upper chambers of the building.

As he followed the owner through the endless labyrinth of staircases and passages, Auron remained silent as he allowed himself to dwell on the image of the girl that was now deeply embedded into the recesses of his mind. As Rikku's mournful, emerald eyes continued to flit hauntingly in and out of his vision. He found himself wondering idly about her story: how young the unfortunate girl was; how she had made the irreversible decision to work here at this accursed brothel…

How many times Rikku's unwilling body had been forced into an act of violence that she had not assented to.

Hesitation immediately flowed like crimson fire through Auron's body as he realised that he was about to perform much the same thing. Mental images of the countless women he had used to relieve the accumulated stress appeared unbidden before his eyes, and realisation dawned upon the warrior that many of the courtesans may not have given their consent openly to the acts performed.

His fist clenching repeatedly, Auron sighed, deep grooves appearing in the delicate skin of his palm. The warrior's thoughts remained centred upon Rikku, her beautiful, jade eyes filled with such an infinite sadness that Auron had never known before.

He vowed not to pressure Rikku into anything that she did not consent to.

The staircase eventually came to an end and panting heavily, the owner motioned for Auron to follow him. The top floor was the most extravagant of them all; coeurl skin rugs lined the floors; the portraits of long-dead Maesters posing regally in their gilt frames. The warrior carefully avoided the accusing gaze of the Yevonites. Dwelling in the past was futile.

After what seemed like a millennia, he was brought to a stop in front of the final door on the hallway. Auron had visited this room before – the woman who awaited him was a courtesan with ivory skin, her startling blue eyes daring and adventurous, whilst her hair ran in streaming rivulets of ebony down her back. But, the obvious stated that this was not the same person.

Grinning widely at Auron, the owner slipped his hand into his trouser pocket, producing the key to the room moments later. Depositing the instrument in the warrior's outstretched hand; he turned to leave, looking over his shoulder with a final warning:

"Be gentle."

Sighing with indignation, Auron waited until the man was out of sight before turning toward the door, the metal cool against his palm. He could detect the faint stirrings of movement behind the door, indicating that the occupant of the room was currently preparing herself for the warrior's arrival.

His large hand rose automatically to his greying hair, his fingers running soothingly over his scalp. With a sigh, Auron inserted the heavy, silver key into the lock and all movements stopped together. Hearing a resounding click, he rapped his knuckles smartly upon the wood, before pushing the heavy door open and stepping into the interior of the room.

The stifling darkness was almost overwhelming and as Auron's eyes struggled to adjust to the different light intensity, his hand wandered to the small candle which he knew was situated atop the little table to his right. Lighting the candle with the matches provided, Auron held the utensil aloft, providing him with enough light for his unaccustomed eyes to probe farther into the room.

Rikku inhaled sharply, her senses heightened as the intruder enter the room, his gaze fixed intently upon her downcast face. She sat nervously upon the edge of the large, ornate bed, her fingers twisting anxiously upon her lap. Swallowing around a large lump that had lodged firmly in her throat, Rikku glanced up at her visitor through her long eyelashes, a small gasp escaping from her lips in the process.

Before her, scrutinising the Al Bhed's trembling form with a keen gaze, stood a very powerful man indeed.

This is it for this chapter! I had intended to make it longer, but have been working on it for long enough and was keen to end it soon. So who is this intruder (yeah, right – as if you don't already know) and what does he want with Rikku? More importantly – will they, or won't they? I'll try to update soon!