DISCLAIMER: THIS IS A WORK OF FAN-FICTION, NOTHING MORE. FINAL FANTASY X BELONGS TO SQUARE ENIX.

NEGOTIATION & PERSUASION

A Final Fantasy X Fan-fic

CHAPTER TEN

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Seymour awoke, stiff and quivering from the bitter cold. He gnashed his teeth and shook his head in relief. Oh! It felt so... thankfully none of that was real, that would be a monumentally stupid thing to do at this time. He could still feel her writhing in fear and pain under him, while he brazenly violated her. Not that he would ever attempt something like that. Ever. It was a terrible dream. To his dear Yuna, how dare he even dream something like that?

Lying on the frigid snow, he craned his neck upwards blinking. He scrabbled to his feet, the freezing wind buffeting him. Where was he...? It was too dark to see clearly. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to cast shell to protect himself from the biting wind and flying snow. Why, he could not! He breathed, his breath fogging in front of his blue face. He was out somewhere in the open, and drained of all his magic without his stave moreover.

Seymour strained his eyes in the blue-grey darkness, dotted with flecks of white. He could just make out the shapes and features of the landscape. At least he was not lost, he would very well be able to make his way back home from here. He made his way through, towards an ice path that was frequently used and well-worn.

After a few uneventful and predictable minutes of weakly hiking through the chilly blizzard, the Guado heard something from behind. Wearily he turned around to see what was it. Through the falling snowflakes, and as his clothes flapped in the howling wind, he saw a dark figure advancing towards him. It roared and raised its four arms, it was a yeti.

The Maester spread his feet, brought up his fists and prepared himself in a classic fighting stance. No magic, no stave. Just bare. Inwardly he swore, this silly predicament would not have happened if he had not lost control of his emotions earlier at the temple. Look at the inconvenience caused by another one of his episodes!

The muscly mindless creature made the first move, charging straight into him. He avoided it easily, by side-stepping to the right. It skidded in the sleet and snow, roaring, obviously infuriated it turned around. This time it stepped closer, more carefully and deliberately. It bared its yellow fangs as it swung Seymour a punch.

He blocked, but it was useless, the force was titanic and he was blown off his feet. Crashing heavily into the swirling snow, he gripped his now bleeding arm. He had cut himself on a sharp piece of ice when he fell. Quickly he stumbled onto his feet, and rammed into the furry beast with his shoulder.

It keeled over, flailing in the snow before flipping back onto its thick feet, all the while growling menacingly. Snow was stuck onto its wiry fur, where it had fallen. Not noticing at all, it charged viciously again.

Seymour dodged to the side, it was a very close shave. He had felt the fiend's fur whip his face as it ran past. It looked rabid, foam and drool was dripping off its mouth. He began to worry, while he watched the grey monster recover tirelessly. It was not likely that he would be able to keep up. He was already weary, and the cold was numbing him, going right through his clothes. He kept his composure, and sneered at the fiend.

"Give me your best!"

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It was already after dinner at the manor of Guadosalam. Yuna had finished dinner by herself at the lavish table in peace and quiet, wondering where was Seymour. She was supposed to talk to him. She smiled abit recalling what he looked like earlier today, napping with his students, out in the blustery field. The sight was so, she found it difficult finding the right words to describe what she saw and felt. It was just so unlikely.

There was the sound of quiet footsteps, and the tall door of the dining hall opened. A Guado manor keeper bowed to Yuna, raising her head she said, "Lady Yuna. Your husband has returned. He is now in the west wing, he would like your presence."

Yuna got up, looking forward to seeing him she made her way through the huge manor, now lit by candles and chandeliers in the night. The beautiful and exotic place took getting used to, with smooth curving branches lining the walls and ceilings, the way they grew resembling ornate lattice-work. The place carried the lovely and homely scent of perfumed wood.

Outside the west wing, another Guado guard in neat uniform stood respectfully at attention. He gestured his large hand with long fingers saying, "This way Lady Yuna." He stepped out of the way and let Yuna through the doorway.

Yuna gaped in alarm. "What happened to you?"

Surrounded by book shelves, sitting on an armchair near a marble tea table was her husband. His sleeve was rolled up, on his arm was a deep red cut that looked as though it had just recently stopped bleeding. On his exposed chest, he had a nasty dark bruise that was just starting to swell. Lighting came from the upper walls of the small room, where curious mushrooms blazed a white-coloured light.

At the back was Pescal, cleaning some steel medical tools. "Lady Yuna." He acknowledged, looking at her for a moment.

"Please sit Yuna." Said Seymour. "Forgive me for being late, I was..." His previously neutral expression changed, his brow furrowed. "Held up by a yeti."

Pescal laughed, trying to lighten the dour mood. "Sir, he really gave it to you with his fists didn't he?"

Not taking his eyes off Yuna as she sat opposite him, Seymour replied cordially. "Actually it was its breath that nearly defeated me."

Everyone in the room laughed. Pescal briefly collected his medic's equipment, and bowed his purple-haired head before leaving his collected master and graceful mistress to their privacy.

Yuna moved her chair closer to his, and began with her white magic. Gently she put her petite hands onto his injured arm. She watched the breach in his flesh gradually close, and asked, "What happened before the yeti?"

He opened his eyes after feeling relief from the wound, and from enjoying her touch. At that question he casually raised an eyebrow. But inside, he was startled by her sharpness. Before he could say anything, she reasoned gently.

"Because, firstly you couldn't been held up by one for that long, and secondly, I don't think you would go without your stave. What happened?" She still kept her hands on his arm and squeezed it slightly, showing her genuine concern.

"I had another one of my emotional episodes. It rarely happens... until of late. When I become very stressed, emotionally stressed specifically. When I lose all control and have no recollection or memories of my actions after I come to. I!" He could no longer look at her, and was fearful of telling her all this, she would probably shun him. Thoughts of her screaming for him to stop bombarded his mind. The image of her wide tear-filled eyes was etched into his memory, as in the dream he came into her. Completely ignoring her straining hands on him, trying to force him away-

"Seymour. It's all right." She said slowly, noticing the uncharacteristic panic in his azure eyes. "What do you think of me, that I am ignorant of the troubles of people other than Sin?" Yuna clasped his hand, stroking the back of it with her thumb.

He leant forward, breathing through his mouth. Her familiar scent calmed him, unashamed with his eyes shut he savoured it. He forced himself to look at her. "Do you not fear me still?"

She watched him steadily, "I'm not scared of you Seymour. Not anymore. I realised it's your opinions I'm scared of." She pressed her palm onto the injury on his chest, and healed him. "Better now?"

He nodded, the amount of emotional relief, so much more than physical was the most he had ever felt in while. He swallowed, and continued. "The worst I have ever done was kill my f-father. My temper... I do not like the possibilities of what I am capable of in such a state. Killing should be painless."

Yuna decided that this was not the time to voice what she thought, she continued to tenderly listen to him with her summoner's compassion.

"Yuna, you do trust me that I will not break my promise to you?"

"Yes." Was the certain reply.

"I am happy that you do. I just remembered, this afternoon at the grass field..." He frowned and dipped his head. "Do I appear cruel to you because I desire to kill?"

She gave him an affirmative look.

Seymour held onto her small hand, and got up from the wide chair verbalising, "I shan't persuade you to see what I do. This conversation ends here."

While they were walking to the bedroom, Yuna asked, "How did you survive the yeti?"

"I had to call my aeon." He answered emotionlessly. Holding her gently by the arm, he led her into the private chamber. He shrugged off his robe and put it onto the wooden dressing table. Without shame he stripped himself of the rest of his clothing.

"Seymour, what are you doing?!" Asked Yuna, looking away. Embarrassed.

He answered, his soft voice huskier than usual. "I am going to bathe myself now." Folding his damp clothes soaked from the snow, he teased. "Would you join me?" To his surprise and mild horror, (although she was blushing furiously) she undressed before him. His heart beat faster nervously. Pretending not to be shocked, he asked keeping his tone as smooth and as natural as possible, "Stream or manor's bath house?"

"I'd like hot water." She said, fetching two fluffy green towels from the cabinet. She threw him one, and promptly wrapped herself with the other.

The Maester led the way, with his wife following behind him. Since the court of Yevon, she had not seen his back. It was intricately scarred. Yuna felt a pang of guilt seeing that, but it had to be done. It was worst on his back, but even part of his buttocks and thighs were finely scarred from his primitive and brutal corporeal punishment.

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The bath house was actually in the basement of the manor, with a narrow private staircase leading down to it from Seymour's chambers.

It was medium-sized, able to accommodate ten people if there was an occasion for it. The roughly oval pool was made of smooth, polished black rock, and white marble in other areas. The sweeping shapes of the marble and rock were mostly natural, just sanded and cut strategically so that large pieces of them would fit together into a pleasing whole. Cosy orange light came from lamps and brackets on the rough walls.

As hot steaming water began filling the moderately deep pool, he took her small hand and said, "Watch your step." They stepped in carefully, lest they slip and fall. "You're beautiful you know?" He adored her openly, and suddenly he guiltily glanced away ashamed.

Gingerly they sat down into the almost scalding hot water, Yuna gripped his hand tighter at the pain and said quietly, "You are too."

He chanced another shy glance at her, "Have you been in a hot spring before?"

Yuna had her eyes closed as she rubbed her skin. "There is one in Besaid. This feels like long ago when I was a little kid, we ever went there and played in the water naked. When we were too young to feel embarrassment." She sighed smiling. "Talking about kids, I didn't know you like teaching them! It looks so unlike you."

He submerged his head under the water, and came up running his fingers through his thick hair. "And why is that my Lady?"

"You seem so serious Seymour, you don't look like the type who likes children." Yuna looked at him, one side of her mouth curved in a smirk.

"I like very young children much more than most adults."

Yuna blinked in the steam, and asked while she washed her soft hair. "Why's that?"

"Many reasons. Probably many of my reasons are the same as yours. I can tell that you are delighted by them as well." He relaxed in the water, listening to her tranquil soprano voice. She looked so radiant this way.

"Their playfulness, innocence and honesty." Stated Yuna, her skin rosy from the heat of the water. She could not help but feel that there was something wrong with him. In the orange light he looked... It could be because he was just tired.

"It is their non-judgemental nature that most pleases me." Admitted Seymour sighing.

"From your childhood?" Asked Yuna, coming closer to him while she washed her face.

"Yes. Although I was different, no one at school cared." He gazed at her while he took a trip down memory lane. "No one cared that my ears were not sharp, or that my face lacked veins at the time. For we Guado, the more veins one has the more attractive one is. Needless to say I was considered ugly. No one my age avoided me or remarked on my appearance. Unlike, the 'grown-ups."

"Children only know the core of things don't they?" Yuna thought aloud.

"Mm. It was all a world of play, so different from the one at home. After school." He sighed. "Being around very young children have ever since put this wonderful feeling of peace about me."

"How long have you been teaching?"

He shifted in the water to draw closer to her, and careful not to scratch her with his claws he pushed the wet brunette hair out of her face. He did not answer her question.

"You look guilty Seymour, what's wrong?"

The half-Guado remained silent, his eyes focused downwards onto the ripples of the steaming bath water. He was lost in thought.

Her voice and her gentle hands on his shoulders made him come back into reality. "Seymour, tell me. You're my friend..." Then she looped her arms around his neck and hugged him comfortingly. It was so difficult to think with her so close!

Under the water, he clenched his fists. He smelt what she felt, that embrace was purely platonic. But her affection was genuine. She was too close, with her creamy bare skin against his. He whispered yearningly, "You are torturing me."

"What's wrong?" She released him and sat back. Her blue and green eyes locked onto his face. Although his face was often of a fixed confident expression, she had begun to notice and see subtle changes in it now and then. It was possible to read the changes, as the days would go by, Yuna knew and she would be able to recognise such tells more readily. Like how at first glance Guado all looked the same, but after a while, differences could be seen.

Wishing that she had not let go of his shoulders, he spoke. "I have not been myself lately. I know that you see me as your friend, and nothing more... I dreamt that I had sexually assaulted you."

Yuna was slightly taken aback at how direct he was, "Don't be guilty for something that you didn't do." She whispered.

"I cannot help but. I am sorry." He replied, getting up and waded to get his towel. He did not want to discuss his dream further. "I think we have been here long enough. Are you finished?"

"Yes."

"Let us depart then." He turned a shiny brass valve, and drained the water of the grey rock pool.

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In the dark bed chamber, they laid themselves down onto the huge soft bed. The last words he heard from her was, "Good night."

He replied the same in the gloom, confused his thoughts all in a disorganised whirl. He relaxed his tired body, hers a few feet away from his. Bravely he exploited his Guado's senses, slowly he inhaled. She smelt a little like the sea, meaning she was calm. Past that... the poisonous smell of fear was altogether absent. Distrust was not there anymore, but the doubtful aroma of suspicion still lingered mildly. She trusted him, but was still suspicious of him... what did that mean?

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In the wee hours of the morning, Yuna sat by the running stream at the back of the manor. She sneaked out from the heavy sheets and covers of the bed as quietly as possible, so as not to disturb her sleeping husband.

Dipping one of her hands into the cold water, she thought about the half-Guado. He was fine really, but she found it very disturbing that he was so oriented towards dying or perishing, utterly drawn to it like how iron was to a magnet. She felt a chill down her spine at the very thought, how strange and contradicting at the same time he was such a warm, and humorous person.

She shook her head slowly listening to the sounds of the water, marvelling how quickly could things change in a week and a half. Before she was actually somewhat like him, wanting to die. Yuna looked up at her surroundings, the gracefully swaying branches in the breeze, the falling leaves... She clearly was someone who loved life and Spira, how did she make up her mind and courage to want to die for it?

But he was different - he wanted everybody dead. How could being dead compare to how wonderful it felt to be alive? To breath in the fresh air, feel the wind and pattering rain... taste the food one loves. Just being able to feel. Everybody dead... was this a twisted type of love that he had for Spira? It seemed very much that way.

If only there was a way to show him, that although there is suffering and pain in life, there is also meaningful beauty and wonder. A delicate balance, like a pair of scales... (Of course it would all be more balanced without Sin, but that was beside the point for now.) She found that she cared for his welfare, he was her friend. There was no way that she could leave him like this, with such depressing, unhealthy thoughts, ambitions and beliefs.

If she could not persuade him, then she could at least show him what she felt. The only thing was how.

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End Of Chapter Ten