Chapter Seven

"The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting."

The morning sun breaking through the little garden and throwing playful beams on his bed set the mood for Tidus' day. He woke up clear-headed and rested; he nearly ran to the dojo in the early summer light and joined the guard in the morning salutation exercises, as the trainees cleaned rooms, prepared baths and food for the guard inside the keep. He just managed to get back, shower and dress himself before his trainee escort arrived. He had torn through his gift boxes until the one he wanted was sitting before him as he peacefully meditated on the Djevon in the garden. She looked fresh and lovely in the morning light, her gi and hakama wrapped tightly around her figure and freshly pressed. The tanto was carefully placed in the obi on the left side; the 2 feather sigil was a huge amusement to the guard, whom furiously placed more bets on Tidus' courtship of the little eagle. After ritual bows and greetings were given, he indicated her gift was to be opened and in the box lay a copy of the Art of Love, with illustrations by Otori Aisiwara. A common enough gift during O-Bon, but Tidus had planned a few more surprises for her later that were uncommon.

After meeting the other guests for the first meal of the day, Tidus approached the maester and pulled him aside to talk: "Seymour, I am so glad you invited me! I haven't felt this relaxed in so long! Um…speaking of relaxed, I think I've found out something about our newest trainee. We've been so intent on teaching her things like Spirean language and warrior arts, we forgot to teach her how to behave like a lady; she has no idea what being a woman on Spirea is really like, in a way. Do you want her to remain innocent of the role she can have? She is your trainee – I leave it for you to say."

Seymour's eyes gave nothing away, except a mild amusement at the question, while his mind furiously weighed the possible outcome against the risks and at the same time, laughing inside: Oh by the balls of Djevon! I thought he'd have bedded her by now! Either she is a hard mountain of fear to scale, or he is in too deep under Yuna's influence…hmmm...should I show a little reluctance? No…She is for him, the events may not fall into place if he does not break his current path. At least he is well mannered enough to ask, that is a telling point – maybe the society's influence has not touched him as deeply as his father's reports say. "Tidus-san, every lesson learned will be helpful to her." Then shockingly: "Even if getting between her legs helps to get in between her ears, do it. Do it, man. I prize the little eagle in my nest – she has true potential, Tidus-san." …And I fear you will not live to see another O-Bon If you do not, son of my closest friend.

Tidus' ears rang and his heart felt a stab of fear at the word: "Potential?"

"Yes! – Ah! Lord Ichihara-san! Most certainly, I will be right over! " - His crystal blue eyes now sharp with unspoken warnings he quietly finished with: "Tidus-san, I do for the good of the empire, not for any selfish desire. Trust me. I will send for you– my code will be to discuss next O-Bon – only you, no other. Large ears are close now. " Then chameleon-like, melted into the most charming smile and pitching his voice to carry a bit: "Start the lessons with the Art of Love!"

Bemused on the walk back to his guest house, Tidus thought over the man's bald affirmation that bedding his protégé was not only expected, but encouraged, and smelling something deeper than mere lessons to prepare for a life as a warrior for the court, he went out on a limb and decided to trust Seymour. After all, she was a rare delicacy, almost totally unspoiled or warped by the society she found herself in, and a seriously sharp weapon to boot. He placed his bet on his father having an interest and angered as all bastards are at their father, he said to himself – Oh yes, father mine, you can have her, IF you can get her from me. You may find yourself in a war with me over this little eagle. Heh, she might even scratch your greedy little eyes out if she prefers my hand to yours. And so, with enthusiasm, he began the first of his sutras, just like his old master: "Tarja? Can you tell me what love is?" "Yes, it's a feeling." "No. It's whatever we make it mean – Now, open the book and turn to the first chapter and read it aloud, please."

The beautiful summer day was spent outdoors; Tidus preferred the natural world as back drop to illustrate his dialogues, vs. a blank shoji screen; besides, vainly, he knew he looked his best when the sun hit his mass of golden blonde shagged hair and golden brown skin, giving greater contrast to his Zanarkand cobalt blue eyes, which were already sparkling with enough manly charm to make even a hardened courtesan's heart beat faster. He was glad he had dressed with care and had the house sigil of the imperial house; other guests of the maester's noted it, and some made up their minds to make acquaintance of the handsome blonde with the slim trainee with astonishing eyes of twilight jade.

After conversations with other guests were over, Tidus lost no time in pointing out to Tarja how the women and men interacted with manners and mutual respect; he teasingly translated the hidden language of gestures from the third chapter as they observed a jewel of Djevon, a dainty creature with hair piled high, delicately walk past a group of men in her kimono of vivid ombred pink silk and jeweled thongs; the touch of a flower in the glossy purple black as she glided by brought attention to the entrancing set of her head, almost tilted back from the weight of the luxurious weight of her tresses and the soft expanse of skin exposed by the gentle dip at the back of the robe, dusted with pearl powder to gleam invitingly; the gesture, which translated, said to one of them: I recognize you; I accept your attention. Her demurely serene gaze caught the man with a fan unfurling it, then snapping it shut with flip of his wrist to the pretty pavilion near the lake sending the silent message: I want to meet you - at the pavilion. She then gently downcast her eyes in an oh, so innocent, yet sensual manner as she crossed the path of a pair of servants, who somehow ran into each other, dropping silk pillows they were setting out for a lunch outdoors in the great veranda.

"…and that, Washiita, is the effect you manage to make on men without any training - Imagine how you would slay cities of men, If you should choose to learn these arts!" His memory flashed back to the heart-stopping glance she had given him striding in a line of captives and he thought: …And how you nearly killed me without even knowing it…

Demurely, innocently, she replied: "Slaying cities of men would soon deplete the world of Spirea very quickly – how about I try for just one at a time? " Starting with you, you handsome bastard. How come you didn't offer for me that first night? Why did it have to be Yamashita, and not you?

Laughing, he said: "I am about ready to die, Washiita...of hunger! Come, let us eat. He escorted her to a seat, handling her with ease and talking her through sitting down gracefully in a kimono vs. hakama. "But I'm not wearing a kimono, Tidus-san!" He grinned and said: "You will be…Tonight!"

They ate lightly from the tables set up in the cool shade of the teakwood porch; the meal was deliberately simple, to keep appetites fresh, as feasting Spirean style took stamina – it could last from the proscribed three courses in two hours, or all night long, like the new year's eve celebrations, with a never ending succession of trays and platters of food, delightfully arranged to please all five senses. After the rest from his dialogue on the sutras from the Art of Love, he walked her to the bath house and lordly, consulted privately with the attendants, then gently pushed her into their giggling midst and threw over his shoulder: "Don't you dare be a minute later than the hour of Wei." he threw a dazzling smile at them for effect, followed by another throw, this time a rather generously weighted bribe, which was caught with delighted squeals and belling laughter of the knowing girls; all bath house girls were a bit naughty, as they had been privy to some of the most torrid affairs of the heart. They were also the most sacrosanct of the trades, never disrespected in public, and could be counted upon to keep a secret to the grave. And so, Tarja was left to their merciless attention, while Tidus strode free to compose his own thudding, excited, happy heart for the next sutra: That Of Which Is Sensual.

To the day she died, Tarja would carry the memory of that long golden afternoon as one of the most erotic moments of her life: she arrived on time; the maids had her dressed in a pretty yukata , indigo butterflies on white, with her hair simply dressed; some of it swept back and up off her face and left dangling in the back in thick curving locks, while two more in front softened her exquisite face, now lightly touched with an angel's breath of golden pearl powder; they had boldly drawn a dramatic eye to bring out her unusual eye color, with sooty eyelash black and smudged lines blending seamlessly with a deeper shade of blue-lavender; they left her lips alone, just a light gloss of oil to keep them soft, thinking he'd be crushing them in a kiss by now; but no, Tidus was schooled by the best.

She was kissing clean from head to foot, polished and groomed to an inch of her life, but had not been perfumed at his instruction; the clean scent of astanga resin soap somehow fit her better, a reminder of the cold heights that eagles fly. He silently took her hand and placing another at her waist, led her to his bedroom, where he had the kimono laid out, then just as gently, tilted his head and waited. Shaking, she stepped out of her sandals, untied the obi sash and he slowly drew off the yukata. He showed no trace of nervousness or boorishness that men fell into at the sight of a lovely woman without any clothing on; his eyes were definitely filled and he made no effort to hide the fact he enjoyed the sight of her, but evenly kept his desire in check. He took his time looking at her, whole set of his lean body relaxed yet showing a deep excitement as he took in the long limbs, the perfect cup of her breasts, hair brushed to golden brown streaky silk; his eyes warmed appreciably at the sun-browned skin smoothed to satin and slim, well curved hips.

Finally raising his eyes to her face he regarded her with a direct, confident gaze that somehow bespoke a hint of a wild something below the surface of a civilized aristocrat and quietly spoke with sincerity: "Beautiful. Just beautiful. And a woman I see. " He pulled the white under kimono off the bed and began to dress her in it , sensuously sliding the featherweight silk up her arms , his hands only separated by a mere layer of fabric; The feeling of the soft silk sliding against her newly polished skin was a revelation and it showed in her face as he drew it closed and tied it off, his hand sliding around her hip in an appreciative caress; the black silk brocade kimono was drawn on just as slowly; it pleased Tidus to see how she felt written on her face, unconsciously begging more; almost as tenderly as a dominant binds his submissive in preparation for the pleasure of the submissive, Tidus wrapped the pure white obi with its geometric pattern of sparkling white beads tightly about her waist, showing off not the just its narrowness, but the perfection of the curve of her lush hips and sweet swell of breasts encased in finest silk. As he knelt before her pulling the silk Obi tight enough to make her gasp, the thought of Tidus erotically burying his blonde head between her legs as the image in mirror playfully suggested nearly overwhelmed her and she turned her eyes away before the image became addiction. Since peonies were out of season, a lavender-blue lotus blossom was placed in the knot of hair to ornament it, and his fan of black eagle feathers was slipped into place beside the tanto. She stepped into a pair of black sandals to complete her first full dress kimono.

Tidus drew her to the mirrored wall and had her look; it reflected an image of an aristocratic lord with a lady who would excite the most jaded of palates. For a moment she felt like she belonged in this world, and belonged by Tidus' side. She shyly smiled and shot a speaking look of pure happiness at his eyes in the reflection. The heart of Tidus suddenly held a gleam of happiness, which bubbled up and reached his eyes; which prompted him to say: "We do look the part, don't we? I think you'll hold up for an evening. Now. Let's see if I can keep my tanto sheathed tonight, Washiita."

The feast was in the dining hall tonight and despite its size, it felt intimate, warm with rich woods; some were inlaid with each other and polished to dark gleam, the grain even; insets in the dark beams showed extraordinary burled golden brown wood, intricately patterned as the heavy brocades in the pillows that everyone sat on. Lanterns with painted scenes of revelry were hung by the dozens, illuminating the maester's head table, and the space before it, kept cleared for the entertainment by four servants. Further out, the light became much softer, as small lanterns flickered on smaller tables with more intimate seating. Music was playing, more a soft breath of sound to color the air, vs. an orchestral performance; acrobats and circus performers preceded the feast, dressed as grasshoppers, dragonflies and butterflies, jumping and diving with great cracks and snaps of silk gauze wings. When they reached the maester's table, upon signal, ribbons were pulled by certain servants positioned about the room, and drifts of cut paper confetti, some gilt, some treated with phosphorescent paint, fluttered down, showering the delighted guests with a delicate imitation of glowing fireflies descending in the evening. Servants appeared in plenty and brought by tray after tray of extraordinary creations from the kitchens; some were symphonies of contrasting tastes and all were carefully arranged like mandalas on the black platters.- pink, black and fresh green brought grilled meat sliced paper thin and arranged to look like flower petals on curry leaf; a tray of green could be a variety of green fruits: grapes, apples, kiwi, sweet melons, freshly cut and arranged in clever dragon's scales for luck; but unlike last night, wine and liquor was served in plenty from start to finish.

She tried to serve him at first, but he shook his mane, and playfully refused, stating this was her night of lessons, and the lesson was to learn to accept pleasure. Tidus had an immense amount of fun, feeding her bites of things she never knew existed on the planet, even letting her taste some of the fiery liquors from the cold north. He drank nothing but water himself the rest of the evening, after teaching her how to do the drinking game over three thimbles of black Aki.

Later in the evening, Tidus leaned back against the pillows, Tarja's head on his arm as they idly watched the dragonflies in a darting acrobatic dance; then watched the revelers satiate themselves; with some, greed was a matter well practiced and tonight was a special indulgence. A few were carried out in chairs, having drunk themselves to the state of passing out, or eaten so much they had fallen asleep. Of course, Tidus had some wicked commentary, telling stories, translating the signals of seduction and laughing at Tarja's attempts, which usually ended up as ridiculous stories of assignations with improbable lovers or spouses. A group of men two tables distant were quite on the lookout for party-mates afterwards; they were a boisterous, good natured lot, despite being aristocratic spoiled creatures, and meant no harm. A tall young man with dark hair that was neatly tied in a tasseled silk tail kept craning his head over his shorter companions every few minutes to catch Tarja's eye, fascinated by the stranger in a sleek silk gown, a toothsome bare leg glimpsed from the right hand slit in her kimono and a dainty waist that appeared no bigger than a hand span due to optical illusion of a white Obi tied with breathtaking tightness over the black of the robe. Tidus began to tease her, asking if she was flirting when his eyes turned away and in mock jealousy, bemoaned his blonde head compared to the black-purple tassel.

"Go ahead, do it. See if you can make him spill his wine goblet." He wickedly whispered. He pushed his goblet in her hands and she rose, languorously, like the 'twining of the creeper', as he had taught her earlier. Eyes turned in admiration as conversation grew louder to cover the obvious attraction to the vision of beauty walking past them to fill her lord's cup; as she glided by, she downcast her eyes demurely, long black lashes sweeping a creamy brown cheek now stained with the faintest rose. As she returned, the little knot of young bloods had turned to watch her as one, still chattering; then she flashed her extraordinary mercury blue irids through a corner of the enchantingly set eyes, a mere hint of a dimple in her cheek. A halt in the chatter occurred; and true to Tidus' challenge, the tall tassel-head on the left poured the contents of his goblet on the floor as if he had nothing else in the world to pay attention to, except that exquisitely fine figure receding, bearing a filled jade cup back to Tidus. Tidus lazily caught his eye, leaned back and wickedly twitched an eyebrow with a hint of a smile and accepted his cup from his delicious protégé. She sat with the same grace by him and smiled in delight at having accomplished a walk without tripping on the train of the kimono. Even more wickedly, knowing the young blood's eyes were glued to Tarja's face, Tidus picked up his silver chopsticks, chose a piece of fruit carved like a flower bud and fed it to her adoringly, whispering: " Success! It was a waterfall!" The dark eyes of the young men greedily drank in the supremely erotic moment of Tarja's delicate pink mouth accepting a morsel from a man's hand; each groaned inside, wishing it were their hand, doing the spoiling of the beauty.

The evening had been one exercise after the other in experiencing sensuality, from the smallest hints of pleasure at lovely surroundings, to complete pleasure of the five senses; all that remained was the pleasure of the soul. And he was going to do that for her tonight, later, if she would let him. Tarja was almost drunk with it all, and simply awed, clung to her mentor, eagerly responding to each of the many lessons. As the hour grew late, the feasters became more and more obvious in their pleasures; some outright acts of sex were taking place in the back of the room, where the table lanterns flickered dimly out of the circle of the hanging lanterns near the host's dais. There was a breathless panting excitement in the air, as courtesans and geishas made their assignations with the male guests they had discreetly flirted with earlier in the day. The maester had gently removed himself some thirty minutes earlier with the guests at his table to further pursue private talk and pleasure of a more refined sort. Tarja became anxious and widened her eyes as Tidus firmly refused to leave, flatly stating: "You need to see this." He appeared to idly drink, but the goblet was filled with water, not wine, his eyes wary, waiting for the inevitable next event.

It came in the form of another young blood; drunk on wine infused with lotus root, he fell upon Tarja and began a very obvious invitation to join her and his fellows in their bathhouse, a generous bribe clinking in a brocade bag. He remembered his manners a bit late and turned to Tidus and asked if he could spare the lotus blossom for the evening and hinted at a good time to be had by another courtesan, Mikko, whom was the toast of the Inn of the 4 Awnings last summer. Tidus appeared bored, saying: "It is for the Lady to say, not I. I'm just the consort. " The not-so charming blood reached forward and gently began to tickle Tarja under her chin and entice her to rise. She sat still; emboldened, he gently let his fingers drift down, intending to capture handful of breast, but suddenly whitened under his deep bronze of his rather handsome high cheeked face.

Tarja's tanto hovered above her breast, blade up; it was either remove the hand, or have fingers sliced off. "No, I thank the lord; but No." was gently breathed in the young blood's ear. Tidus leaned forward and placed a hand on the young man's; it appeared to be friendly, but Tidus' grip was iron hard; Tidus pleasantly said: "Forgive the bluntness of the lady's reply, but No is…No. Enjoy Mikko. She is the best. Tell her Tidus Tanaka noh-Ishii remembers her sweet voice, please?" Inwardly tickled , and now in an outright bastard mood, Tidus gently placed a hand under Tarja's chin and ever so gently inspected her for damage as the shaken man bowed his escape, this time with real respect, and not just at the imperial name dropped in his ear. Leaning further in, Tidus let his mouth graze where the other intrusive hand had touched, giving the appearance of an adoring caress to his favorite jewel of Djevon.

"How like you my gift now, lady?" he laughed against her throat, and leaned back. "Do you understand the lesson? Good. See the effect you can have on men? We will discuss it in the morning. Come, let us go, before a horde of them lose their fingers."

The bath was again a delightful haven from the world of drunken O-Bon feasters and they both sighed in contentment and occasionally smiled at each other as they overheard snatches of revelry from by passers on the pathway; Tarja felt less nervous around Tidus and soon was sitting next to him in the deepest part of the little pool, letting the heat burn into their bones as they cheerfully gossiped about the guests at the party. She had even been unabashedly self-forgotten as she undressed for the bath, sighing almost regretfully at the fact she was no longer gowned so extravagantly: the outer kimono and Obi had been easy to wear once she learned to handle the weight of the fabric when moving. She thanked him prettily, at which Tidus laughed and teased her with: "Oh? If you were so regretful of being undressed, why did you drop that pretty robe so fast? Is that all you want from me? Just a… bath?" the last line delivered with her exact inflection of last night, of course.

"No…" Tarja stopped, horrified at herself, flustered; she had intended it as a jab of humor back at him, imitating his reply from last night, but it suddenly sank in that he was talking about real intimacy last night.

"Good. I was hoping I'd you'd prefer me over that drunken idiot tickling your chin…Tarja? What is wrong?"

"It's just that I never thought that…ahh...I am the alien here…I'm not sure if…if…we're…um…compatible."

"I think that's not the issue. What is it, truly?"

"I…I've been through – it's so long since…maybe…maybe…I…can't feel anymore."

"I can make you feel very good, If you'd let me."

He said the last statement with such an absolute sense of confidence, it made her blink. Let him! Her heart insisted. Instead of an answer, she simply shrugged and politely murmured: "Umm...I'll think about it…"

Tidus simply smiled to himself for the rest of the evening bath, as he slowly drifted in the water near her, a devoted master teaching his student in the sutra of learning to accept pleasure.

He awoke early the next morning after he'd sent Tarja back to the guard's quarters after the bath almost laughing at her confused expression; he did the morning salutation with guard, pleasantly surprised at the increased cordiality the guards exhibited, especially by the head archer, who apparently had banked heavily on Tidus; his cousin had been on the sortie at mount Gazgaret and told him of that it was Tidus that had charmed Tarja off the cliff; Ainjin had kept that bit of information to himself, bet a month's pay and it paid off handsomely.

Tidus dawdled for a few minutes, hoping to see his little eagle, but there was no sight of her. Disappointed, he returned to his guest house. Ainjin grinned and went to find Tarja, ready to tease her back into Tidus' arms.

He returned to the bedroom to dress himself after a shower and caught his breath with a joyful bound of his heart when the shoji slid open, as his mood, which under his playful, aristocratically jaded surface was actually one more tender: he had found himself wishing to be reassured she was happy with him.

She had heard that he had waited for her after salutations, while she was helping to set out the guard's clean uniforms for the day, and as soon as she was done, she ran to the little guest house. Her whole being was much more relaxed, her eyes were no longer wary and dilated as a wild bird's. She bowed and began to dress him in his clean clothes, bringing a neatly pressed hakama, then the short white under-gi and light steel grey-blue silk over-gi, carefully wrapping Obi and bringing his own tanto to slip in.

When pouring tea, at the first meal of the day under the great veranda, she tended him carefully, then shyly spoke his name when no one else appeared to be listening: "Tidus? Thank you – for everything yesterday; you are a very patient man; and…I really liked, no, I enjoyed last night. You…were…a wonderful teacher. I see I had something to learn, too. But I do have a question: What…what about your pleasure? "

Eyes flat, he replied with the bare minimum: "What about it?"

Puzzled, Tarja took in his guarded appearance and shrugged, thinking her Spirean wasn't right. Next, she simply, bluntly asked: "How do you expect me to please you? How do I give you pleasure, Tidus? You do understand me, right?"

Shocked, he stared at her for a full 15 seconds, mouth hanging open; he shut it, opened it to speak and shut it again, a blush staining his cheeks until he looked down, away from those beautiful blue lavender eyes filled with something more, far more, kind than the arrogant lust he had been forced to satiate for years of his young life.

He looked up again through his lashes to see if he was mistaken, but no – she still held her gaze warmly, steadily. His eyes softened, and Tarja was stunned by the momentary boyish look of tenderness in his eyes, shining with unshed tears. He shook himself and covering his near emotional breakdown, he reached for his tanto, idly examining it until he could speak without choking. The voice came out husky, any trace of his haughty patrician manner gone: "Forgive me. I don't recall anyone asking me that question before." ME! She wants to please ME! Oh thank you, thank you, thank you! I always hoped there'd be one, just one, on this planet – Hey! wait a minute! She's not from here! Oh Djevon, how funny is that! Hysterical laughter threatened to burst out of his mouth; he realized his god, his Djevon, had listened to him all along - he had granted his prayer screamed out to the stars on a lonely night - and, somewhere, the god must be laughing.

"Tidus? …Tidus? – are you unwell? Look at me, please! People are beginning to notice! Tidus!?"

He looked up, and broke out into an awesomely blinding smile, sweet as a beam of sunlight slicing through a storm cloud and then took her hand, gently kissing it, careless of what anyone thought before finally speaking: "Mistress Tarja-san, again forgive me! I think I just had a revelation from Djevon now!"

"Oh? And what did he say?" She asked, now suspicious.

"Laugh, because I surely am, from my bright blue heaven!"

The day was well spent, doing nothing useful, preoccupied with the newfound feelings in each other, aimlessly walking through the estate's gardens, paths, and lawns to a peaceful view of the spring, where they idled the golden afternoon with his sutras, resting in a little jewel of a pavilion, thoughtfully stocked by the peerless major domo with a soft futon, cotton pillows, and other comforts he deemed necessary to an aristocrat. They reluctantly turned back to the compound at the sound of the bells announcing the hour before sunset.

The evening entertainment was a bit more subdued than last night's indulgent feast, but splendid nonetheless. Maester Seymour recreated a children's story, the Teapot Badger, into a play; the evening was filled with many whimsical, magical things; circus performers balancing themselves on narrow poles, pretty girls contorting themselves into impossible poses, trained animals costumed and even bearing food and drink to the guests. It was meant to be a tender, charming evening, bringing everyone back to the comforts of childhood where magic still existed in one's eyes - and it succeeded admirably. The evening ended in a fatherly blessing by Seymour, with his hope that he would see them again at the next O-Bon. Once back at the little guest house, Tarja charmingly turned to Tidus and asked him : "How can I please you tonight, my lord and master?"

"Oh? Since when am I your lord and master? Hmm…I haven't even been asked yet and she throws herself at my feet!"

"What? I can hardly believe that's a new experience for you, after seeing those bath house girls swoon at your dazzling eyes and even more dazzling back view as you strutted away yesterday! "

"Bath house girls swoon over everyone!"

"Since when are you so modest? I bet you have the skills to be a consort to the entire empire, you sly creature! Maybe I should find another lover, O faithless one!"

A dark flare of anger ignited in his mind and something snapped at the last sentence – the sequence of words reverberated in his ears – he hazed out in his mind, a red mist blotting everything out except the need to obey the orders that were set there by a soft sinister voice. He attacked her, quick as a viper; Tarja simply reacted, diving between his legs to escape the kick aimed at her head; her eyes grew wide when he unsheathed his tanto and empty eyed, began to hunt her through the guest house; he threw it and missed, but it was a distraction; he was on her while she followed the flight of the knife burying itself in a dark beam by her head.

He delivered a back handed slap to her face and began an unrestrained assault on her, punching and kicking with deadly accuracy. She broke free when he missed the 1st kick, twisting her wrist uragi style, then backed off, leapt at him and wrapped her legs around his waist, causing them to fall on the bed; her arms became a steel band around his chest to block his flailing arms; she hung on, stunned for a moment at the landing; it hurt, but she grit her teeth and told herself: Think, woman! THINK! Before he kills you! Desperate, she began to talk while he struggled against her bindings of flesh and bone: "Yes, Tidus, yes- I am yours, I'll do anything for you, anything, you are in control, you have total control, Tidus; you have the total power of life or death over me, darling Tidus…" She kept talking, reassuring him he was the one in control, pitching her voice to keep any fear or pain from creeping in; she knew what was happening was not normal; he had been brainwashed to kill somehow, shrewdly judging someone other than she was the real target – she'd just said a phrase that was common in someone's vocabulary, it was a trigger implanted in his mind. She'd only read about it back on Earth, there had never been any live case studies to observe, they were all dead or in thriller novels.

Her voice eventually bled into his ears through the rush of blood as he mindlessly continued, almost convulsing; it seemed like he was seeing what was happening, but it was far away; he saw streaks of tears on Tarja's face, the red imprint of his hand on her cheek; he screamed against the prison of his brainwashed mind and began to fight with every fiber of his being , reminding himself this was Tarja, she was telling him he was in control, he was going to come back to her, he would never hurt her….after a few minutes more, he looked dazed, the madness leaving his eyes as he stared at his little eagle, his Tarja, now in his face, no longer a distant rag doll to rend and maim into bits. For a long moment they stared at each other; then he laid his head down on her shoulder, exhausted and began to tremble; the trembling turned into shaking sobs; Tarja simply held him until he calmed, then quietly said: "Welcome back. Nothing like taking a trip without leaving the farm, eh?" Tidus gave a short bark and tears trickled on her shoulder as his muffled voice said: "I hurt you. What the hell happened to me? I hurt you –Oh Djevon, how could I ever erase the scar of that?"

"It wasn't you, Tidus. It was someone else. You were trained to do this, and not to me. I just hit the trigger too soon, so to speak. And…I'm not scarred."

He slowly rolled off her and lay there, thinking: I am a weapon without even knowing it. How sick is that, to train me to kill another! How? When? Ah….I have it…the herbs! Yuna! I have got to tell Maester Seymour about this. I need my father. But tomorrow. I have to undo some damage here.

He knelt on the bed and very gently took her hands and began to talk; He gave her the option to get the maester, as it was a grave offense in his own mind to have a hand on her. She refused, so he tried to tell her about the drugs he had been dosed with by Yuna, how he had stopped drinking; he related how Yuna had tried to push him to drink again and the absolute terrified look in her eyes when he refused; he tried to describe how he just seemed to snap, and everything seemed unreal, at a distance; the fight he went through to get back to reality and how terrible he felt once he saw the pain he had caused. His quiet voice dropped in shame as he formally apologized for striking a woman. He offered to heal her, if she could trust him to do so, even if it meant she'd never see him again.

Tarja's face hurt, but she knew it would clear by morning and she was sore in some tender places; she was more mentally traumatized than anything else and craved for a tender touch, loving and full of reassurance. Shakily, she shook her head at Tidus, dryly commenting: "That was some wild ride, eh?"

A touch shaky himself, he nodded, then carefully picked her up as if she didn't weigh anything at all and carried her into the bath. He simply held her in the hot water until her head lolled back on his shoulder, and then began to gently trace her body's meridians with his honey gold fingers and apply pressure to the key points his old master had drilled in his memory. After he had done all he could there, he carried her back to bed, combed her hair out, softly reciting the calming sutra and the sutra of forgiveness in the heart until she drifted off to sleep, and his own eyelids grew heavy.