Standing Beside Him

Standing by unable to do anything is the hardest thing of all. Lucil. Minor spoilers. Not finished.

Right, here's the deal: I hate this. Absolutely hate it. Please, please, I'm begging you, rip it to shreds. Help me make it good. Specific things to improve, with suggestions, are what I need the most. Help me and I will love you forever.

-

Lucil had long ago decided she hated rain. Days such as this one only served to remind her of her sentiments.

It wasn't that she disliked getting wet—it was only water, after all. No, it was not the rain, she decided as she gazed out from the doorway of the balcony at Youth League Headquarters through the rain. It was the people whose company she was forced to keep during said rain.

Lucil did not consider herself a solitary woman; it was simply that she valued silence. It would seem that out of the entirety of the Youth League, there were very few who shared this trait. She winced at the cacophony of bodies hitting the floor in the next room accompanied by the crash of pottery and harsh clang of metal. Very few indeed.

With a resigned sigh, Lucil went to investigate. She absolutely despised rain.

The numerous crashes turned out to be a sword skills exhibition that had turned into a bit of a scuffle. At least, that was how it was explained to Lucil. She took it to mean that some fool had decided to show off. Fortunately, the fight had been rather easy to disperse. Merely her presence had stopped the young members in their tracks. She had quite calmly told the assembled members that if they had so much time and energy to spare, the grounds could use a thorough cleaning. She paused a moment to watch their incredulous faces before adding a simple "Now."

It had been rather amusing to watch them scurry off.

There were perks to being second in command, Lucil decided, not the least of which was the high corner room she used as office and quarters. She sat in a comfortable armchair staring at a soaked patch of bare rock visible from her window. It was quiet save for the rain, her mug of tea was warm and fragrant and she had left strict orders to be left alone under any circumstance. Altogether, it was almost enough for her to ignore the hesitant knock at her door when the inevitable messenger came to interrupt her.

Almost.

With her second sigh of the day, Lucil rose to see what calamity could only be solved by the presence of the Commander. The young messenger was just raising his fist to knock at the door again as Lucil opened it. His fist wavered in the air a moment before the boy turned it into a salute.

"The Mevyn wishes to see you in the briefing room, Commander. He says that your help is needed with the cataloguing of the spheres the League has acquired."

Lucil thanked the boy, who promptly ran off after throwing another salute. She watched his retreating back with more envy than was seemly of her position. She had been putting off the task of cataloguing the spheres for weeks on end. She had no desire to sit for hours watching the events of strangers' lives and the dry records of Yevon. She supposed Nooj had decided that the rain made for an excellent opportunity to watch the spheres. When she entered the briefing room, he confirmed her guess.

"Ah, Lucil! I thought perhaps we could use the rain to our advantage and watch these spheres since we are forced inside by the weather." Nooj gestured to a crate at one side of the room that was filled with spheres.

"An excellent idea, Sir," Lucil replied as she took a seat to his left with a silent sigh. She nodded to the few other officers in the room, including the young Maroda. She noted that Beclem was absent, however. He's most likely off drilling his unit in the rain, Lucil thought with a faint smile. Her expression turned to concern when she caught Nooj shifting in his seat out of the corner of her eye. His expression was pained and his prothestic leg was stretched out under the table. The rain was bothering his wounds from Sin, as inclement weather was wont to do. It was not entirely comfortable for him to sit with the metal limb either, although Lucil knew that he would not openly admit to this.

Lucil continued to watch Nooj out of the corner of her eyes when the lights were turned off. The spheres threw orange and blue light onto the large metal table, which reflected the glow onto Nooj. His chest and shoulders were orange, and blue traced from his torso to across her bare legs. Suddenly self-conscious, she turned to hide her legs under the table.

The faint hum of the sphere projector filled the room, and Lucil turned her attention to the projected image. The Bikanel sunset that filled the room was breathtaking, all in shades of tangerine, magenta and violet. The recorder seemed to be transfixed by the sunset, as the image remained for several moments. Restless movement stilled when a voice spoke.

"What's on your mind?"

The voice belonged to a woman off-screen, either the recorder or someone standing near the recorder. Her voice was deep and throaty—husky. Another voice from off-screen answered, and Lucil froze when she heard it, every muscle suddenly tense.

"I hate this place."

The words were spoken with a careful deliberation, the voice level and calm. There was no doubt, however, to the depth of the emotion behind the speaker's words.

Behind Mevyn Nooj's words.

The camera angle began to turn away from the sunset, but the motion was suddenly aborted by Nooj's finger on the sphere projector.

No one moved for several long moments. They all stared at Nooj stretched out across the table, carefully avoiding meeting anyone's eyes. No one dared to voice the questions plain on their faces. After what seemed an eternity, Lucil managed a simple "Sir?" She was relieved to hear that her voice did not waiver.

"This sphere…" Nooj had to clear his throat before he could continue. "This sphere is…personal. A record I would like to keep private."

Again, no one spoke. Lucil found she did not know what to say. She was spared from having to answer by Maroda's uncharacteristically hesitant voice.

"If the Mevyn wishes it, he may certainly keep the sphere…" His voice trailed off and he looked to Lucil for confirmation.

"Of course," she said with a nod. "Everyone is entitled to keeping their memories private." A murmur of general assent followed her words. The blurred sunset disappeared as Nooj removed the sphere from the projector.

"I am afraid I must retire. Lucil, please oversee the rest of the cataloguing." Nooj's face was calm and his voice steady, but Lucil could see how white his knuckles were as they gripped the sphere.

"Yes, sir." Her voice sounded faint and distant to her ears, but she hardly noticed as she watched Nooj turn and leave the room, cradling the crimson sphere close to his chest as if it was his own heart.

It was only a few days later that Lady Yuna came to pay a visit to the Youth League. Nooj was in another fit of morbid depression, and Lucil thought it prudent to keep him from interacting with anyone until his mood improved. She had been standing at the entry to Headquarters for most of the day, turning away nearly everyone with subtle half-truths, the occasional lie and once a direct threat to an over-zealous group of youths determined to see the Mevyn.

Now she found herself giving the same story to the High Summoner. The Lady and her companions seemed to be buying it well enough, so Lucil was only barely paying attention to her words.

"I'm sorry, but I had best say no more. It is not a matter to be discussed openly."

"No, I suppose not." At the sarcasm lacing the woman's husky voice, Lucil snapped her full attention back to the conversation. It was with an effort that she half-smiled and apologized again while she appraised the leather-clad woman who had spoken. Something about her tugged at Lucil's memory, suggesting a familiarity she could not place. When the women turned away to speak to the old man whom Lucil had turned away earlier, she mused over what it was that made the woman stand out.

She was certain that she had never seen her before. Lucil had a good memory for names and faces and she would most certainly have remembered this woman if their paths had crossed before.

Lucil continued to search through her mind for the woman's identity. It was not until the women turned to leave that Lucil placed her. As they passed by, the woman's gaze swept over Lucil and she was struck by the color of her eyes.

They were red; red as a sunset, red as blood, red as the sphere Nooj had claimed for his own. Thoughts of the sphere brought to mind the husky voice of the unseen woman who had spoken in it—the same woman who had accompanied Lady Yuna.

-

Again, ripping this god-awful POS to shreds much love from me.