Chapter 4

The rest of the trip to Bevelle was less eventful with only a few standard fiends. The guards dispatched the weaker ones though Seymour jumped into the fray occasionally. Despite his calm exterior, Yuna could feel his impatience. At first, she believed him to be constantly fighting because he wanted to get to Bevelle faster before his plans could be foiled. When she actually watched him impale fiends with his staff sometimes and rip them apart with magic other times, she realized he was doing it because he seemed to enjoy it. It didn't seem to matter if he got bloodied up or poisoned, he was usually almost smiling at the end as the Pyreflies swirled up around him. The most recent time it happened, he declared that they had "taken enough beatings" for the day and went to wash his staff off in a nearby river.

"A pity," he said in an almost bored tone, watching the water stain red, "I was hoping for more of a challenge."

Yuna turned away from him, sickened.

He actually wasn't all that bad for traveling company, she thought, horrified, but when he starts doing that…

Her skin was crawling at this man who was so obsessed with death.

"Lady Yuna, you don't look so well. Are you feeling ill again?"

She smiled weakly.

"A little."

His icy palm caressed her cheek, the magic flowing into her. While the nausea in her stomach lifted, there was one place he could never get: her soul. Her soul was where she always felt the most ill these days.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"I will have them prepare a bed for you first. You can lie down for a while."

They were less than a day away from Bevelle at this point. She closed her eyes wearily, not looking forward to it at all. Her cheek felt like fire against Seymour's palm, but everything was warm in relation to him now.

"You still carry Sin's scent on you," he said, sounding almost sympathetic, "the toxin has yet to come all the way out of your system. I think you have a fever."

Yuna thought to argue and then stopped herself. Let him think that—he might expect less of her if he thought she was sick. He stroked her cheek for a moment longer before letting his hand drop. Much to her annoyance, his cold hand had actually felt good for a change. She didn't resist when someone offered her a chair by the fire. It was good to see that narrow cot in the tent and she didn't want to lift her head from her pillow even for food. She had gone to bed in her clothes, as she didn't even bother to change.

"She doesn't seem to want to wake up," the red-haired servant remarked.

"Let her be," Seymour said, "the less she is awake, the less she will suffer. Make sure you keep up with the potions."

It was a pain not being able to make her feel better—it might improve his reputation the slightest bit in her eyes if he could make this stop, but as powerful of a white mage as he could be at times, he wasn't as powerful as Sin. It was something he strove every day to change. Seymour kept vigil outside Yuna's tent. He never went in, as he had appearances to keep up, but he didn't leave, either. He occupied his brooding mind with what shapes he would take on as Yuna's final Aeon. The last remains of day faded into night and he abandoned the rules of propriety at last. Slipping into the tent, he moved soundlessly. Yuna was mumbling in her sleep. He thought he heard the name "Tidus" at one point. She sounded scared—she was probably having a dream about him. Seymour stroked her forehead and she quieted immediately. Deciding not to press his luck, he backed away from her cot and left the tent.

Sometime during the night, Yuna awoke after her fever had faded. Feeling strange and disoriented, she longed for a glass of water. Sleepily rubbing her eyes, she looked around. There was a table set up by the fire that held pitchers and glasses. After she'd poured her drink, she looked around. The world was painted in soft shades of blue, silver, and black. Sounds of snoring drifted from the tents and crickets were chirping all around. Stray Pyreflies let out their mournful sounds as they wafted past. Yuna had forgotten how beautiful nighttime could be, as it wasn't safe to sleep in the open. She gazed at the sky, at the sharp, thin, crescent moon there surrounded by shimmering stars.

"Quite beautiful, isn't it? And we're the only ones who see it."

Yuna jumped, the glass clattering on the table.

"Oh…Lord Seymour…I didn't see you there…"

The enormous half-Guado chuckled darkly.

"Despite my frame, I am quite good at concealing myself when I want to," he said, appearing from the shadows, "it saved my life a few times."

She watched as the moonlight began to illuminate his skin. It shone in his blue-purple hair and lavender eyes and gave him a strange otherworldly look.

"You don't strike me as the kind of person who would hide from anything," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

"And that is why I've made a success at being a Maester," Seymour replied, "by blending into the shadows so seamlessly, you learn things you wouldn't ordinarily find out by more traditional means."

He seemed to be growing more transparent the longer she looked at him. Puzzled, she stared at him, wide-eyed, as he became wraithlike before dissolving into nothingness.

"How…?" she asked, staring at the spot where he'd just been. Seymour rapidly reappeared.

"Unfortunately, there are some secrets I must keep," he whispered, "even from you, Lady Yuna."

"I won't tell anyone," she said stupidly.

"I'm sure you wouldn't," he replied, "but I can't take any chances just the same."

He knew when the thought had crossed her mind because he could smell her anxiety and hear her heart begin to thunder.

"You needn't worry," he said quietly, "I have never used this power for…for anything improper. Mostly it serves as an element of surprise for fiends."

"Oh."

They stood together there in the dark for a few minutes before Seymour stroked her cheek. She cringed away from his icy fingertips without meaning to at first. He could smell the uneasiness as she tried to hold still. Her whole body was as rigid as a staff, but she was trying her hardest not to pull away.

"Am I so repulsive to you? There was a time that my touch brought color to your cheeks," he whispered.

"That was before…"

"Before the sphere? Or before him? I heard you whisper his name earlier," Seymour said, now easily an inch or less away from her. Yuna swallowed, her throat suddenly dry again.

"In addition to a very keen sense of smell, I have very good ears as well," the undead man pointed out, "and I must warn you that I have a bit of a jealous streak."

Yuna suppressed a shudder.

"Um…ah…uh…"

She flushed brilliantly. Though it was hard to see in the dim light, Seymour knew that her face was coloring a mixture of mangoes and cherries.

"You're so warm now," he observed, "like a torch. Spira's own flame, Yuna Guado. I hope in the future that I can have this effect on you."

She didn't want to think about that, which of course made her cheeks turn more scarlet. Her eyes closed as she wished she could just disappear. Seymour had an amused smirk as he held her face between his hands. She saw him move in and she could have sworn that her heart stopped.

Is he going to…

But he didn't. He pressed his cold lips to her forehead instead. His facial veins darkened as his breath lingered there for a second or two. Then, he released her.

"You should go back to bed," he said suddenly, "there will be a great deal of preparations to make tomorrow including the fitting of your dress."

It wasn't the first time she'd sensed something off about him, but he seemed to be actively struggling against something. A sheen of sweat broke out on his forehead and cheeks and Pyreflies began to flicker around him.

"Maester Seymour, are you all right?"

He clutched both hands over his heart and shuddered violently. Then, he straightened and the spell was over as fast as it had begun. Clearly embarrassed, he cleared his throat.

"Just a side effect of being an Unsent," he said, again adopting the cool, indifferent mask, "it happens from time to time."

"Does it hurt?" she asked, frowning.

"It is a mere inconvenience," he said, a tiny bit of annoyance creeping in, "and I don't want this mentioned to anyone."

"All right…"

She slunk back to her tint, feeling very unsettled. He breathed a sigh of relief, sagging against the trunk of a nearby tree. Pressing his hands against where his heart used to be, his mind began to race. He was beginning to regret what he had done to gain so much power. Absorbing another person's Pyreflies made him stronger, but the side effect was that memories and emotions would surface—emotions and memories that weren't his. The most common one was anger, but the one that had happened tonight was one he hadn't felt very often: lust. It had hit him like a tsunami and left him nearly powerless in its grip. If there was one thing Seymour hated more than anything else, it was losing control of situations. He was horrified to think of what might happen if he wasn't able to control it. What if it happened during battle, or worse? What if it happened when they were intimate? He didn't want to scare her. Everything hinged on her learning to trust him. Out of frustration, he punched the tree and ignored the stinging pain. Breathing heavily, he stalked off into the woods. He needed some exercise.

The moon was dipping lower in the sky when he returned. Spattered with blood from the fiends he'd destroyed, he went into his own tent and scrubbed away the gore. He reclined on the cot though he never actually went to sleep. The tension now out of his body, he felt far less crazy. When it was time to pack up camp and go on, he felt no trace of the strangeness from last night. Yuna, however, seemed even more cautious. She seemed very watchful and stuck closer to him than she ordinarily would. She even held his hand. He couldn't deny that he was enjoying it, but he had the suspicion that she believed him to be dangerous. It was a mixed blessing to say the least.

"What are you afraid of, Lady Yuna?" he asked her as they got into the carriage.

"You seemed…ill…last night," she said carefully, "I was worried about that."

"That's very sweet," he observed, "though I must wonder if the concern is for me or for the others."

"Both," she said honestly.

"I see," he responded, almost sounding disappointed. His clawed thumb traced the veins in the back of her hand, tracing the pattern there.

"Is it better today?" she asked after a moment.

"Yes."

Nothing else was said on the way to Bevelle. They arrived there during early afternoon. Yuna was whisked away to undergo the fitting and so forth after lunch and she didn't get back to the hotel they were staying at until late that night. She collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

"Would you like me to bring you something from the kitchen?" the servant asked.

"Yes, please," she said. She was glad that Seymour wasn't asking for her company tonight. The servant returned with a steaming bowl of stew and a generous portion of bread. She eagerly ate all of it before promptly going to sleep. She didn't understand how being around Seymour could drain her so much. She was used to acting happy around Tidus because he didn't realize what was eventually going to happen to the Summoners that faced Sin—but it was different then. It was because she cared about him that it became easier. She wanted Tidus to be happy. But Seymour…would anything in the world make him happy? It was exhausting to pretend to like someone when all you wanted to do was run away.

The next morning, the preparations continued. She was sent to a spa for the day. Whether this was supposed to be a nice gesture on Seymour's part or just to impress her, she wasn't sure. While she was massaged, bathed, pampered, and just generally fussed over, she found her mind continuously occupied against her will. What were the others doing right now? Where was Sin? And for that matter, what was Seymour doing all day? Even after she returned to the hotel, there was no sign of him. She pretended it didn't matter. She occupied herself that evening by making small-talk with the servants.

"I apologize," she said to the red-haired servant, "I haven't even gotten your name yet."

"It's not important, Lady Yuna," she said modestly.

"I would like to know your name, please," Yuna insisted.

"It's Gem, my lady."

"Nice to officially meet you, Gem. I've had so much on my mind lately that I've been neglecting everybody."

"I would argue that you haven't neglected anyone, Lady Yuna," Gem replied, "and anyway, we understand. Getting married is a big deal. Two Summoners getting married…that's rare…but after all the unhappiness that Lord Seymour has had, I'm sure it's going to be a blessing for us all."

"It's been that bad, has it?" Yuna asked, "I mean, his past."

Gem opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it. She turned Yuna's bedcovers down for her.

"It was difficult…but I will let him tell you. It isn't my place to talk about it no matter what I hear—you understand, right?"

"Of course."

Yuna got in bed and Gem smoothed her covers over her in a very motherly fashion. Though the Guado woman was only about five or six years older than she was, she had a very maternal air about her. Her green eyes shone brilliantly in the dark as she checked that everything was in order before leaving.

"Good night, my lady."

"Good night, Gem. Can't you just call me Yuna?"

"That wouldn't be proper," Gem said with a mischievous grin, "so I mustn't let anyone hear me."

Yuna lay awake for a long time. After a while, it became clear that she wouldn't be able to go to sleep, so she got up and went to look out the window. Bevelle was beautiful…she just wished she could enjoy it as much as everyone else was. Tomorrow night, she would be…

Yuna gulped. Tomorrow, everything changed. She would be married. She would be…no, she didn't want to think about it. Life was difficult enough without imagining the dreaded consummation, of being crushed under Seymour's massive frame.

I will have to find a way to get my staff back before then…

Her heart was thundering up a storm. She felt suffocated quite suddenly and decided she couldn't stay in here for a minute longer. She got up and tiptoed silently out of the room still in her nightgown. Thankfully, this one was a dark blue, so it helped her blend into her surroundings. She crept out into the hallway, listening to everyone still talking. One of those voices that she heard was Seymour's.

"Do you really trust her enough to return the staff?" Tromell was asking.

"Not really, no. But she needs it," Seymour was telling him, "she won't stay put where it is safe no matter how much I tell her I'm dead, that the fiends can't do much more than maim me. I would simply rematerialize anyway. She can't stand the sight of blood. I can smell the fear that comes over her."

"What if she tries to Send you?" Tromell asked.

"I'm sure she will," Seymour replied, "but my hold over Spira is so great that I will only return even if it takes a few days. You needn't be afraid to lose me again."

"So…now where is the staff?"

"That incompetent boy had it before we left, but I asked Reya to take it. She's quiet, so she won't tell anyone about it and she's far less clumsy, so she won't break it either. She will return the staff to Lady Yuna in a few days. By then, we should have had a chance to…bond."

Yuna suppressed a shudder of disgust, then realized with horror that they were coming around the corner. For lack of a better idea, she ducked under a nearby table and hoped that Seymour couldn't smell her. Fortunately, there was a window open nearby to let in some fresh air and the air current carried her scent away from him.

"Forgive me, my lord, but she seems rather uneasy…" Tromell observed.

"Yes, I know," Seymour said, annoyance creeping into his usual smug coldness, "what of it?"

"I was only going to say be patient with her," Tromell said cautiously, knowing he was on dangerous ground, "I think she's still in shock."

Seymour glanced down the hall at where he knew Yuna's room to be.

"It will come with time," he said, "she is so strong. Quiet, but strong-willed. She will need someone to keep her in check at times."

As soon as they'd gone back inside the room, Yuna let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. When she crept out from under it, she didn't realize there was a vase sitting there. It shook dangerously and she seized it before it could fall and crash. Breathing a sigh of relief, she righted it and set off to look for this Reya.

It took a lot longer to find her than she'd expected. Yuna had thought to check all the rooms one by one, but that would be time-consuming and very risky. She snuck down to the front desk, thumbed through the guest book, and found Reya's name. It was fortunate for her that the innkeeper was wasted on alcohol and was snoring noisily rather than doing his job. She crept back upstairs, found Reya's room, and found it locked. Sighing, she went back downstairs, got the key, and went back up. That was a time-consuming process on its own: she'd had to unclip the master key from the innkeeper's belt, unlock the safe that had all the other keys, take the right one, put the master key back, then go back upstairs. She hoped Reya wasn't awake.

Reya was a middle-aged Guado with sky-blue hair. She was clearly one of the warriors because her suit of armor decorated a chair nearby. Yuna crawled through the shadows and peered under the bed first. A thin, flat box was her prize: she pried the lid off and found her staff. Breathing a sigh of relief, she clutched it to her chest. She was never so happy to see it in her life. Then, thinking quickly, she knew she had to replace the staff with something else or risk them finding out that it was gone. She noticed a small broom in the corner that was roughly the same weight and put it in the box. Then, she returned the key downstairs just as the clock was chiming two. All this exercise and sneaking around was making her tired. She hurried back upstairs. Trying to figure out how she was going to smuggle the staff to the wedding was a little bit tougher…how was she going to get it past all the guards? They'd definitely notice something like this.

Her eyes fell on the finished wedding dress on the mannequin in the corner. It was beautiful, but it was like the ghost in the house that nobody wanted to talk about. Shining silvery-white in the moonlight, the plumes of feathers whispered softly in the breeze from the window she'd left open earlier. It was then that Yuna had one last brilliant idea: the dress itself was too short to conceal the staff, but the train wasn't. She retrieved a needle and thread from Gem's room, which was mercifully unlocked, and set to work. In order to grab the staff easily, she had to make stitches that would break easily only if pulled a certain way. She also had to get the feathers all tucked around it so that it wouldn't clank against the floor or be visible. This took a very long time. By the time Yuna had stashed all the evidence and gone back to bed, it was nearly five in the morning. It seemed as though she'd only just closed her eyes when Gem was gently shaking her awake.

"Lady Yuna…it's time," she said gently.

It was remarkable how not being defenseless at last improved her appetite. When she didn't see Seymour at breakfast, Gem explained that he and Tromell had already gone to the chapel to check up on some things. Plus it was bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding. Yuna devoured her very rich omelet, pastries, and coffee and then was taken to have her hair and makeup done. Someone rubbed a skin potion on her eyes to take the puffiness and redness down from lack of sleep. Though her shorter hair was rarely tangled and stick-straight, she could swear they pulled half of it out as they tugged and rearranged it into an elaborate updo and pinned and gelled it. By the time the whole thing was over, she scarcely recognized herself at all. There were layers and layers of makeup, so much so that she felt like she was wearing a second skin. Her scalp was stinging a bit from its rough treatment, and she wondered if this was how Seymour felt every day—not the part about the makeup and hair, but the part about looking completely different than he might be feeling on the inside. She was helped into her dress and a tiara and veil were placed on her head just before she got in the carriage. She felt the hard, smooth handle of her staff through the layers of material and was comforted by it pressing into her leg. She looked like an avenging angel.

Upon arriving, she was fussed over even more. Her replies were quiet and polite, voice no longer shaking. The procession assembled. Then, she caught sight of Seymour coming towards them.

He had traded his brightly colored robes for more formal black and white attire. They were closed around his shoulders and chest, which was probably uncomfortable for him, but he didn't show it. His horn-like locks of hair had been tied back and partially hidden by a white hat. Only his bent-spike of a bang still draped carelessly over one side of his forehead. She hated to admit it, but he actually looked kind of nice. As they were going up the stairs, Seymour leaned in and whispered, "You look beautiful."

"So do you," she replied, then catching herself, her face reddened and the stuttering began: "….I mean, uh…ah…um…"

His answer was a quiet chuckle. He gave her hand a little squeeze and they emerged into the daylight of Bevelle. There were hordes of cheering people all around. Yuna couldn't help but feel a stab of sympathy for them. They didn't know what danger their beloved Maester was to them. They would be very put out here in a little while. She tried to watch where she was going in order to keep from letting on that she was timing something.

They're all holding guns… she thought darkly, it's as if they expect something to happen.

"Lord Seymour? Why are there so many people carrying guns?"

"All of Spira knows we're getting married today, Lady Yuna," he answered, still looking straight ahead, "so we must naturally take some precautions. Do not trouble yourself about them."

He led her up to Maester Mika who was the one conducting the ceremony. Yuna bowed her head, gathering her breath to recite her vows. She tried to imagine some fantastical rescue, Tidus and the others charging their way through the guards and distracting them long enough for her to Send Seymour and run. She hoped so much that she could almost hear his voice taunting Seymour in her ears. But nothing like that happened. Seymour repeated his vows and placed his hands on her shoulders. He pressed his lips into hers quite forcefully—so much, in fact, that her breath froze in her lungs. What surprised her was that his lips were warm. So were his hands, in fact. How was that possible? The entire thing only lasted a second or two, but it felt like a lot longer. All around them, people were congratulating them and clapping. The throngs of people below in the crowds roared with happiness. Yuna's lip trembled, but she bit it hard. They went inside the temple for a short reception, then the couple was taken back to the inn for some "alone time".

"What is it that troubles you so? You smell terrified," Seymour asked as the door closed behind him. It may as well have been a cell door to a prison slamming shut. Yuna clutched her arms around her body suddenly feeling very vulnerable.

"I…um….nothing. I just need a minute…"

She sounded very out of breath.

"Very well," he said patiently, "take your time."

She went into the bathroom and closed the door. Sitting on the edge of the tub, she pressed her hands to her temples. Trying to pull herself together through the growing hysteria, she asked herself what she had really been hoping for at the ceremony. The little bit of dinner she had eaten was now churning in her belly. It had been wonderful, really, but she hadn't been able to enjoy it. She had been so distracted that she'd knocked over a wine glass.

Maybe I can Send him when he falls asleep next…

She didn't get a chance to finish that thought. A bunch of chaos had erupted in the hallway. She heard screams and the sounds of guns being fired.

"Tromell, what's going on?" Seymour asked, clearly irritated.

"Lady Yuna's guardians!" he answered. Yuna burst out of the bathroom and promptly tripped over the train of her skirt. Seymour stood over her, his arms crossed and his expression pure venom.

"If I didn't know any better, I would say you planned all this," he spat.

"I didn't, I swear! I didn't know they were coming!" Yuna pleaded, tears filling her eyes as she rubbed her carpet-burned knees.

"Oh? And I suppose you didn't plan to Send me, either?"

Yuna followed his gaze. Her staff had come loose when she'd tripped—it was now laying fully exposed on the carpet. Seymour picked it up and tossed it to her.

"By all means, try," he said with a dark sneer, "Send me."

There was some sort of trick involved—there had to be. She had the carrot, but where was the stick?

"What should we do with them?" Tromell asked. Yuna walked past Seymour into the hallway. All five of her guardians were laying unconscious in a big pile. All of them were soaked in blood.

"That depends on Lady Yuna," Seymour said coolly. Yuna dropped to her knees beside them, her hand stroking Tidus's hair. Tidus…she never thought she'd see him again.

"I will give you—and them—one last chance," Seymour explained to her, holding his own staff now, "I siphoned your magic reserves while you were asleep. Any that you regain beyond a certain point belongs to me thanks to a spell of my own invention. You hold just enough in your reserves to heal them all. Or you could waste your energy and time trying to Send me, though I will return and your friends will be dead."

For good measure, he gave Tidus a rather hard kick in the ribs. Yuna winced at the noise the impact made. Tears began to stream down her cheeks.

"Stop it!" she demanded, catching hold of his leg and clinging to it, "How can you be this cruel?"

He felt her tremble, but kept his arms crossed over his chest, clearly unmoved.

"You'd best hurry. Your favorite there is losing too much blood."

Sobbing, Yuna retrieved her staff. She cast the spell on all of them and watched as their wounds vanished. One by one, they revived.

"Yuna!"

Tidus threw his arms around her. She buried her face in his shoulder for a second. Only the click of the guards' weapons could break the emotional scene.

"Come with us!" he hissed in her ear.

"I can't…"

"But-"

"Please leave now," she begged, "and don't try to find me again. It's too late…"

"I'm gonna kill that Seymour!"

But his hand came up empty, as the guards had confiscated their weapons.

"Are you? With what? That irritating voice of yours?" Seymour asked coyly.

Tidus growled under his breath, but he was right.

"I can't watch you die again," Yuna pleaded, "if you really care about me that much, go. It's what's best for everyone."

Before she could say anything else, however, all the guardians were handcuffed, blinded, and silenced. Seymour dragged Yuna back inside the room.

"Take them to the prison," Seymour commanded, "I want them all separated and under twenty-four hour watch. If they escape, there will be Hell to pay, understood?"

"But—"

He turned on her.

"Not another word!"

The guards made sure she stayed in the room. Seymour followed the guards out to make sure they didn't do something stupid. She saw her staff laying a few feet away from where he'd carelessly dropped it. And she began to pray.

I have no magic left, no hope left…if you see fit to rescue me from this situation, please do it…

Yuna walked out to the balcony to see Seymour returning. The cart that held her friends was rushing off at a rapid speed. Her heart started to pound. Just like that, she felt her magic returning. Seymour must have felt it as well, for he started to sprint. Yuna made the Summoning gesture and Valefor appeared, hovering over the edge of the balcony. She leapt on her back and was carried away.

Seymour saw the reddish shape above. Furious, he summoned his own Valefor, which was quite a bit stronger than Yuna's due to more training.

"Follow her!" he commanded, climbing on her back. His Valefor surged into the air. If it was a fight she wanted, it was a fight they would have.

Yuna's Valefor streaked through the air toward the carriage. Yuna cast Esuna several times in rapid succession, freeing them from their blindness and silence. Though they had no weapons, the confusion and the Energy Blast that Valefor spat at the guards was enough to give them a head-start. Yuna raised her arms in victory, enjoying the rush despite the tense situation. She saw them fleeing for the woods and commanded Valefor to keep everyone off of them. Things appeared to be going quite well until Valefor screamed as a fireball exploded on her hip.

"Seymour!"

"Very impressive," he said as his Valefor aimed another fireball at hers, "but you forgot that I had wings, too."

"You won't get away with this!" Yuna snapped.

"Oh, but I will."

He raised his staff and a Thundaga spell hit them both. Yuna screamed in pain, holding tight to her Valefor's neck as they hurtled towards the ground. Valefor managed to right herself, but she was badly injured. Yuna healed her, but the assault of spells continued. They came not only from Seymour, but the other Guado guards as well. It was both an impressive and terrible sight as the two Aeons held a dog-fight above Bevelle in the sunset. Seymour sent a lethal-looking ice-spike through her Valefor's wing and the poor Aeon was suddenly crippled beyond hope. It slammed into the water, dragging them both under. Yuna's scream of pain (for the ice had cut her leg) turned into a helpless gurgle as her breath bubbled out of her lungs. Valefor vanished in a fountain of Pyreflies as she struggled to escape the undertow of the ocean.

"Let's get her out," Seymour told his Valefor. The Aeon obediently swooped into the water, grabbed an almost-drowned Yuna with her talons, and hauled her out. Seymour pulled Yuna onto Valefor's back and they headed back to the hotel. He took away Yuna' s remaining magic and began draw the water out of her lungs with his own magic. Then, he silenced her for good measure.

Never again, he thought angrily. The first thing he would do was put a bounty out for the guardians. He had enough money that he could afford any price. As soon as his unconscious, injured wife was tended to, he wrote up the contract and told Tromell to put the word out.

"I'm tired of this little game of hers," he said irritably, "we won't make any progress on her pilgrimage with all these interruptions."

Tromell had the good sense not to argue.

When Yuna awoke, she still felt quite sore. Lifting her arms, she noticed that there were no longer any burns on them, but faint traces of pink still showed where her injuries were healing. She noticed that her torn, bloodied wedding dress had been replaced with a short pale purple nightgown. Lifting the covers of the bed, she saw that her legs were healing, too. She shivered violently, still feeling the sting of the ice as it had torn through her flesh. Poor Valefor…she hoped that the Aeon would forget her pain soon. She went to cast another healing spell on herself to finish the job only to discover that she couldn't speak.

Oh no…

"I will miss hearing your voice," Seymour said, entering the room, "but it's for the best. I'm sure you understand."

Yuna shrank under the covers.

"You caused us quite a bit of trouble today," he pointed out, "imagine the inconveniences…your Aeon started several fires, your guardians are now wanted criminals for the murders of some of my guards, and then there's that little matter of me never being able to trust you again. I'm afraid our marriage isn't off to a very good start."

He closed the door behind him. The lock clicked sinisterly just before his cold lavender gaze settled on her.

"Despite all that, however, I must admit that I'm very impressed. You're beginning to think as I do."

Yuna gulped. Despite the fact that no words passed her lips, he could tell that she was feeling insulted by that statement. He crossed the room and came to sit on the bed beside her.

"It pains me that I must treat you like a prisoner," he said, sounding almost sad, "I have always loved the sound of your voice."

He placed his hand against the side of her face. Again, it was strange that his palm felt hot. The puzzlement registered on her face.

"Impressive, is it not? The Unsent have many secrets of avoiding detection. Of course, the heat is only an illusion from a potion Tromell created. It masks the coldness for a few hours so that my touch feels more natural to you."

Yuna wanted to shout that it didn't matter what temperature he was, that she didn't want him touching her. He turned her face towards hers and kissed her. She tried to pull away, but her struggle was weak. This only seemed to make him want it more. His breath became ragged with desire, hers with tears. It was annoying, but he waited until those were gone before continuing. The thought of her crying when they were joining didn't appeal to him.

"There was a time when you wanted me," he reminded her, "I could smell it. Your curiosity. Do you remember that day in Luca when I first came off the ship? So many faces in that crowd, but yours is the only one I remembered."

He ran his fingers through her hair, trailing kisses down her neck.

"Then, there was that time we fought together. Your blood quickened at the sight of me beating back fiends and protecting your friends. Think back on those times…"

She remembered her stomach quivering nervously and how she felt like a silly little girl compared to him. She hadn't wanted him to leave just yet, but he'd had other things to tend to. She'd never had much of a physical reaction to him beyond a warmth in her stomach, as there hadn't been time to develop that, but she'd been excited when he'd first asked her to marry him (though she'd never have admitted to that). His hands trailed down her sides now with an uncharacteristic tenderness, the artificial warmth from his palms soaking into her skin.

"Relax," he commanded, "you won't enjoy it if you're so tense."

She wanted to scream in his face that she wouldn't anyway, but she couldn't. He slid the shoulder straps of the gown off. She began to disassociate after that, forcefully remembering happier times in as great of detail as she could muster. She had to try especially hard when she felt the cool air in the room hit her bare skin. Seymour had been wearing a black robe with apparently nothing underneath. After he tugged the sash loose and let it slide away, she could see everything even with the lights dimmed so much. She squeezed her eyes shut, trembling. To his credit, Seymour was very careful not to hurt her though she was sure the temptation was there. The mandatory pain of the first time was gone as quickly as she registered it, replaced by the tingle of magic that came from a Cure spell. She supposed she ought to thank him for that, but she wasn't in the mood. At least it didn't hurt. She felt herself being pushed further into the cloudlike bed they were on and instead pretended she was somewhere on Besaid Beach lying on the warm sand. She was with her friends and as far away from this situation as she could get. She ignored his invasive kisses and even more invasive touches for as long as she could. Then, at last, it was over. Seymour rolled onto his side, his breath still heavy. He pulled her into his arms and curled his body around her protectively. Not wanting him to look at her face, Yuna hid it in his chest and closed her eyes. The potion he'd had to make himself feel warm was wearing off—his fingers were cooling rapidly and it felt as if a glacier were stroking her hair. She began to shiver a little in her state of half-sleep until he got up to take another one.

I'm so tired…she thought numbly. Seymour returned to the bed. She hoped he would just leave her alone now that she'd rolled over on her other side, but he curled around her again. This time, they were spooning. Yuna pressed her face into the pillow she was hugging and screamed though no sound was actually being made. Just feeling the air forcefully expelled out of her lungs made her feel better. She felt Seymour's breathing slow and wondered if he was actually asleep or not.

If only I had waited a little longer… she thought glumly. She could have Sent him right now, but now she'd likely never get her staff back. She wondered how her guardians were and imagined them all circling a campfire. What would happen to all of them now?