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 TWENTY-ONE
--
Yuna saw the madness in his sapphire eyes, turning purple in the light of the red setting sun. Ignoring her fear and pain of causing such strife to him, she asked softly, "Why won't you kill me...?" Without warning she felt him draw her into a crushing embrace, her ear picked up his shuddering gasps, his mouth against it.
He let her go, breathing heavily fighting back the stinging tears in his eyes. He brought her trembling hands to his lips and kissed them sincerely. "I'm sorry that I scared you. How could you ask me of that?" When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, he smelt her burning fear and his heart wrenched itself in raw guilt and shame.
His lady put her small hands on his heaving chest, whispering, "You're just confused Seymour..."
"Yuna, I'm fucked up."
Yuna dotingly put her finger over his quavering lips, "Don't say such things about yourself..."
He looked at her hopelessly. "It's the truth."
"You can change. Right now, while we're talking you've already decided that killing is bad. I am alive in your arms." Said Yuna gently, hugging him. He looked so sad and frightened, it broke her heart to see him in this present wretched state.
His eyes hurt more when she said that. He let her see him cry a second time. When the first hot tear ran down his face, he looked away. He was thinking, what a profound monster he was. To force her to be wed to him. "I'm guilty..."
"Just forgive yourself, like how I forgive you Seymour."
"I forced you to marry me." He breathed in a self-accusatory manner.
"You didn't! I had a choice, and I chose you." Yuna insisted, holding his huge hands and tenderly stroking his palms with her thumbs. Her hands fit in his easily, looking tiny next to them.
"I have always hated myself, and now I hate myself even more so." He grated through his teeth as he grimaced, "Yuna..."
"Seymour! What's wrong!"
"I feel another one of my episodes... I feel.." He swallowed, his head was spinning. He felt his hands going cold and numb, and as though his mind was falling apart as if it were wet paper. As the world around him dissolved into nothingness, he heard her...
"No Seymour, breathe. Control yourself, I'm here for you."
He steadied his breathing, ignoring how rapid his heart rate was. Pretending that he did not see the points of light in his closed eyes, pretending that everything was all right.
"I'm here for you Seymour." Looking into his blue eyes, oh! All his formidable strength gone in his stare, reduced to this!
Seymour was standing so close to madness, although his eyes were wide and staring, he could not see clearly his surroundings. It was like being encased in layers and layers of smothering frosted glass. Obeying her, obeying what he loved, he steadied his erratic breathing.
As his breathing calmed, and as his inflamed mind tried to make sense of it all Yuna's soprano voice spoke, "Let's go home."
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
In the manor, Tromell and Pescal served them dinner. Which was a brief affair because neither husband nor wife had much of an appetite. Yuna watched Seymour in dismay drinking his wine, then whiskey. When she told him to come upstairs into the master bedroom with her he did so without protest.
At the curved marble and wood stairs Yuna imagined that he would not even be able to reach the top, but Lord Seymour held his alcohol very well. He went in and laid himself on the daybed, his eyes were dull. Not from drink but from what he learnt about himself today.
Yuna's presence was so calming, she sat with him on the daybed. Although she did not say anything, he was happy that she did not hate him, or felt disgust for him. Her scent told him that she was determined and unafraid of him. So unlike how she smelt when he first met her. "Seymour, you look awful."
"I will be fine in time." He replied, tired from so much mental activity. He sighed and looked around the cosy room, the soft moss carpet, the rich ornate fabrics covering the bed, and the long curtains flapping in the night breeze.
The heavy wooden door knocked, and the low voice of Pescal sounded through the lacquered wood. "I have master Seymour's earlier requested port."
Yuna and Seymour spoke at the same time.
"Pardon?" Asked Pescal, stepping into the lamp-lit room. In one hand he held a port-filled decanter, in the other a clear crystal shot glass.
"No." Said Yuna shaking her head.
Seymour had his hand stretched out in his butler's direction, "Give it to me."
Pescal alternated glancing at Seymour and at Yuna, his purple-clawed hands gripping the objects with uncertainty.
"Pescal keep the port." Said Yuna.
"Bring it here."
"No!"
"Put it here."
Yuna took a long calculative look at him narrowing her eyes, he was leaning with his eyes closed against the maroon arm of the day bed. She shook her head, "Pescal, take it away."
Pescal hesitated, then with uncertain and unsteady steps put the decanter onto the round side-table next to the daybed. "Forgive me Lady Yuna. Good night my Lord, call me if you are in need of anything." He turned and left.
Seymour poured himself a shot in the glass, and was about to drink when Yuna held his hand. Yuna frowned, pushing Seymour gently. "You're drunk!"
"I am not."
"You are!" Yuna said, pouting. She refused to let go of his hand, holding the cold glass with port.
"Yuna I need my port." He looked at her. "Would you deny your husband relief?"
There was a familiar glint of mischief in her eyes. With gentle force, she wrenched the glass out of his hand and spilling a few drops of the liquid down her front she emptied its contents into her mouth.
"What are you doing?" Asked Seymour, smiling. Amused by what she did.
"Let's be drunk together Seymour."
The expression on his face changed, he leant onto her trapping her between himself and the daybed, his hands firmly on the maroon velvet. In that movement he demonstrated to her how much more strength he had left in him. "I am not drunk. I am just merry."
"Seymour if you're not drunk, then what are you like when you are?"
Still in that forceful position over her, he said licentiously flashing his teeth with a smile, "Let me drink all my port so that I can show you in an hour."
"No."
"Why not?" He asked suggestively, staring at her pink lips. He was breathing slowly through his mouth.
"Seymour stop it." She giggled, her twinkling deep green and blue eyes looking into his. "The only way you are having any more alcohol, is if you let me drink along with you... And I know you're not a Casanova."
Seymour laughed and relaxed his hold over her. With him so close, he was pleased to see that she was blushing, her fair skin was tinted pink. "How would you know that I'm not, won't you let me show you?" He asked.
Yuna laughed and daintily shook her head. "From drinking so much I don't think you can-"
"Don't think I can what?" He interrupted her closing his hand, using his knuckles he stroked her face, his other hand pressing her smooth back, the only thing separating their warm bodies was their clothing.
She did not reply, but smiled and shyly averted her eyes. Her heart beating steadily.
Seymour repeated himself, more quietly and putting his face closer to Yuna's. His burning desire for her dominated his smooth tenor voice, "... Don't think I can what?"
Yuna lowered her eyelids, clasped her white hands on the back of his neck, and whispered into his pointed ear her warm breath caressing it, "I don't think you can even stand."
"For you I can." He murmured, holding her cheek wanting to kiss her. He tilted his head...
Only allowing his lips to touch hers briefly, she turned her face to rest on his chest. "Not tonight Seymour, you smell like alcohol."
"I see. So I am not allowed to kiss you like this." He said, disappointed.
She replied by sweetly caressing his neck with her lips. He found his arms around her, holding her petite body against his, his eyes closing in ecstasy. He bent his head further backwards, trusting her with that defenceless part of his body, listening to the carnal sounds of her quiet kisses. She whispered, addressing him in her sweet voice, "... my husband."
The lord and his lady allowed sultry languor masked with comfort to steal over their cuddling forms. They remained enclasped in that secret embrace, expressing their innermost feelings for each other through soft and gentle touch. Sighing, feeling so safe in each other's warm arms. Forgetting about the world, for nothing could spoil this precious moment.
Seymour's expression changed when he felt Yuna shift in his lap, possessively he tensed his arms around her, yet his tone quiet and submissive he asked, "Tired of me?" Anxiously he searched her scent for discomfort.
She knelt in his lap, so that her face was level with his, her hands on his shoulders. "Of course not Seymour." She answered, with her hands stroking his blue hair. "I'm just sleepy, let's go take a shower and then go to bed." She pulled open his overcoat and vest.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
"My Lord, you have a letter from Bevelle."
At his office first thing in the morning, Seymour acknowledged his clerk, and went into his office. Settling at his dark-brown desk, he opened the single white letter sitting on top of the daily newspaper.
Maester Seymour Guado,
You are to report to Highbridge in two day's time for an important briefing. You are reminded to bring your stave for safety reasons. The briefing will be at nine in the morning.
I suggest you read Spira's recent newspapers today.
Yours truly,
Abbot Genla writing on request by Maester Mika
He put the letter aside and picked up the crisp newspaper, knitting his brows as he examined it. He looked at the front page:
--
OPERATION MI'IHEN SESSION ON COURSE
Maester Kinoc has announced the official date for the operation, and has reassured the public that the summoners will be found. He claims that the temple of Yevon is doing all that it can in searching for them. His parting words were, "May Yevon smile down and have mercy on us, letting the summoners fight Sin to bring the calm."
--
Seymour thought silently to himself, 'I thought that the mission was to be stalled longer...' He turned to the next page.
--
MAN COMMITS PUBLIC SUICIDE AT KILIKA TEMPLE
A man believed to be mentally unsound jumped to his death from the elevated height of Kilika temple yesterday. Bystanders report that the hour before the man jumped, he yelled claiming, "It is the end of the world! Sin will be here forever, the end is near! The summoners have abandoned us!"
Monks from the temple said that the man repeated himself over and over again, when a monk tried to make the unknown Yevonite man leave he promptly jumped off the platform and down into the jungle below.
His mangled corpse was found later impaled on a sharp tree branch.
--
Sickened, he put away the newspaper and did his usual office work. When he was done, he routinely left for snowy Macalania temple to do his daily duties as High Priest. After visiting his temple, he went to tutor his class in an agitated mood.
Today, class was held in the forest. Although his exterior was as calm as always, his students sensed his unusually tense mood. No-one fooled around with their fiends. Not even Bramble with his orange bomb, which was hovering overhead.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
"You there! Be careful with that!"
The iron bars of the cage groaned from the beating it was taking from a shrieking and struggling Sin spawn. The spawn thrashed around madly, clicking its twitching mandibles. Drool was dripping off its seemingly squashed and deformed face.
"Sorry Sir." Said a burly young Crusader, pushing the heavy cage into place.
"Don't be so tense, it will get tired and be quiet soon enough." Said Kinoc, staring at the ugly creature behind thick bars. If it were indoors, everyone would have lost their hearing, from the spawn's shrieks echoing off the walls.
The young Crusader hurriedly ran off with the sun shining brightly overhead, before his plump superior could penalise him on anything further.
Kinoc looked at the five cages, lined up in the open. On the day of the operation, the five separate spawn would be herded and forced together in a single cage. Then Sin would come for the spawn, now larger and therefore something more worth coming for. After making sure everything was fine, he turned and went to see the metal Al Bhed machina weapons that were shipped in a large crate.
His favourite machina weapon was one that was hand-held. Not the flame-thrower, but this strange contraption called a "rail-gun." He liked these because they were much less tiring to use than traditional arms, and he would not need to get his clothing blood-stained. (Ew.) The very idea that a single shot in the right place, in the head for instance would kill. So much more effective!
In two day's Mika would be giving a briefing on the mission. He had to admit, he thought that the feeble old man was going to stall further. But he was wrong. He was going to go on with it!
Kinoc felt that Maester Mika was a very, very complex character. At times when passing judgement, he could be devoid of a heart and feelings. Oddly he would show compassion, especially when concerning the masses not the individual.
A consolation was that Seymour would be easy to co-operate with this time. Like him, Seymour had a fondness of killing off underlings and lesser people. Kinoc knew about that, although Maester Seymour said nothing about it or showed much of any expression he could tell he liked killing people. No, loved killing people. The sadist.
During the last time, there was this "light" in Seymour's eyes when people perished like flames being snuffed out at the shore. Kinoc rubbed his sticky chin in thought. (Or was it because his lady Summoner of whom he was head over heels for present? No matter. This would be another fun mission. He was sure of it!)
Standing there as the hot wind blew, while an Al Bhed nearby cleaned a cannon Kinoc inwardly rejoiced like an ecstatic child given a present in fancy wrapping.
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
"What happened Seymour? I heard from priest Wenex that you had to send a dead Hypello this afternoon." Yuna asked, running out from the reading room of the manor to greet her husband in the hall. It was already well into the night, nearing bedtime.
Seymour held out his hand to his wife, who took it. Not answering her question, he asked "Have you eaten?"
"Yes."
He sighed, "Good. I have too." He put his broad hands on her slender shoulders, and laid his blue-veined forehead on the top of her head. "I was worried that you waited for me."
They went back into the reading room. He showed her the front page of the news.
"No!" She cried when she saw the headline.
"It's more than just that Yuna. The public has been restless, a riot happened at Moonflow this afternoon. A Hypello was killed by accident. I do not even know the full and exact details, but I heard it involved an argument about the Temple of Yevon."
"How did the Hypello die?" Asked Yuna, wearing an expression of dismay.
"Some way or other... his little body was intact, but half of his skull was crushed." Seymour decided not to tell her the part about the Hypello's gooey and bloody brains oozing out at one spot, when he sent the Hypello's remains that was put in the halls of his temple.
Yuna shook her head, "So to keep the public entertained, you will go ahead with the operation?"
Seymour looked down at the wooden floor and shook his head unhappily, "I do not want to Yuna. People will be suffering."
Yuna closed her eyes and covered her mouth, she whispered, "All those people..."
"For you Yuna, I will try and stop the mission then."
She shook her head, "You will be punished Seymour! I don't want that, and after they keep you locked somewhere, they will just go ahead. Don't."
"Perhaps... I will be reporting to Bevelle soon to Highbridge for a briefing on the operation. I should see and hear the full details of it before I plan anything or jump to any conclusions."
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
"All present and punctual as usual." Maester Mika sighed at Highbridge, standing on the red carpet. Birds far off could be heard greeting the morning. He turned to face his council, because it was just a short-briefing they were standing. No seats had been placed there. He began, "I shall be quick and direct about this. Operation Mi'ihen session 2 will have no casualties at all, because Sin will not even be called-"
"What?! But Maester Mika-"
Mika the old one ignored Kinoc's shocked interruption. "We will stage an obvious and elaborate failure, even before the five spawn fuse together. Maesters Seymour and Kinoc will be the exhibitionists."
Seymour's brows lowered quickly, as he stared curiously at Maester Mika suspicious of what was being planned.
High Maester Mika continued in his signature calm tone without so much as furrowing his white brows, "Among Spira's gossip columns Maesters Seymour and Kinoc have mutual feelings of indifference to each other. The both of them will stage a convincing fight, leading to the utter and complete failure of the mission."
Seymour sullenly remained silent, thinking while Kinoc spluttered, "But Maester Mika! Won't the public have further contempt for the Temple of Yevon?"
"They will. But doing this will provide us the useful device of stalling, and allowing the public to gossip." Mika tentatively stroked his white beard, "Simultaneously, Maester Kelk will be visiting the Al Bhed again, to persuade them to let the kidnapped summoners go."
The group of a dozen people stood there with Maester Mika, contemplating what he just said. What he planned was most unexpected, but actually rather practical. The public had been too restless lately, and at the moment they still managed to cover up the little riots and fights that had been happening all over Spira. But it was not likely that they could keep the precarious situation in their favour for much longer, a diversion was desperately needed.
Maester Mika beckoned to plump Kinoc and tall Seymour. "My sons, come here." Watching them step forward, he muttered with disapproval in his aged voice. "There is no need for me to tell you both to make it look realistic. In fact I had better caution you both to make sure it is not too convincing." Maester Mika briefly had an image of one of the two ruthlessly throttling the other's neck with a frenzied maniacal grin.
End Of Chapter Twenty One
••••••••••••••••
This chapter is dedicated to Evil Flaming Kat Of Doom
who is bracing big, bad hurricane Ike in Texas.
13-14 SEPTEMBER 2008
Kat? If you survive the madness, please let us all know as a fellow reader.