Unacceptable
--- Disclaimer: All characters and such are copy write Squaresoft.
The sound of a whip smacking into bare flesh shattered the silence of the cellars. A man hung form the cellar ceiling, his hands tethered with chains and rope to the wooden rafters above. The whips sunk into the wounds it had opened from previous striking, it's surface coated with thick blood that the young man once possessed.
The most disturbing aspect of the scene was not the sounds of the ripping flesh that sent shivers up your spine, it was not the darkness of the room, nor the blood that dripped onto the dirt. It was the silence of the man. The man neither flinched nor cried out in pain. His expression was as calm as that of a silent statue, watching over a serene garden. No anger decorated his face, furrowing his brow. No hurt crossed his lips, or troubled his mind.
If one were to look at only his face, they would think him in deep meditation, in fact no one would doubt it if they found he was.
Of course he wasn't. His mind was anything but clear, and although it would be a pleasure to be relieved of the heart wrenching thoughts in his mind, he couldn't find the will or strength to even try. There was one thing that flashed in his mind with extraordinary clarity. The code of the guardian. Protect the summoner, even at the cost of ones life.
This was an entirely different situation. His cause was to be able to protect the summoner. A normal person's mind would have wavered by now, but his decision stayed strong and true. He would bear it; he would take this punishment for accepting guardianship. It seemed like a small price to pay for the happiness of Spira. He would after all most likely end up dead by the end of the year in the path he was taking; this small trifle had little impact on him.
But it did on the Woman in front of him. Priestess Kiko, daughter of High Priest of Bevelle, the jewel of their temple. She lived up to that name, in both beauty and kindness. Her face embodied a sort of Snow White charm, a pale face, with full bloom rose red lips, and ebony hair that cascaded down her back like a wave of black in the midnight sky. Her blue eye's glistened with crystal like tears that tumbled down her soft pink cheeks as she watched the warrior monk slash the whip down again.
The man before her merely smiled, trying to bring a ray of hope into her, but everyone knew that no one could have gone through this torture without feeling immense pain. The young woman's whimpers of anguish stood out where his should have been. Her hands were clenched together as she pleaded in her mind for the beatings to stop.
But it seemed as though her dear god Yevon had turned his back on the two, leaving her hopeless as the strikes continued on.
---
It was quiet now. The Warrior Monk was gone, as where the chains and ropes that had made their mark on the man's wrists. The man sat praying to his god in spite of his beatings, in spite of his blood wounds that pulsed on his back, throbbing in pain as the timed passed.
The sound of the cellar door opening sent a jolt of awareness down the man's spin. He continued to pray in silence as the sound of sandals gritting into the dirt ground greeted him.
The first sting came like the first strike of the whip, it was the sort of pain that electrocuted through your whole body, leaving you a bit stunned, and yet hurt at the same time. The wet sponge that now sunk into his back dabbed the blood gently from the wounds that jutted down his tanned skin. He didn't speak, but he stopped praying.
It hurt like hell, he would have to admit that, but he knew that it was for the better. Had he not known who it was he would have turned around and snatched the sponge away, and then begin to clean his wounds himself, but that would be rude, and he had certainly given this person enough trouble. It was amazing how gentle she was. He would understand it if she jabbed the sponge in, replacing the gentle pressure that was being applied to his back with her hand pressing itself against the sponge, digging it deeper into the wound then necessary.
"I'm sorry." A soft voice whispered. The man was silent as the girl continued on. "I know it's not my place to ask you this.but why didn't you." the girl dove into a lose of words as she continued, trying to stop the breaks of gentle sobs in her voice. "Accept me."
The man closed his eyes, feeling the piercing stings of the water filtering out all the dirt and dust in his back. It hurt to listen to the question somehow, but it hurt more to leave her hanging in silence as he collected his excuses into an answer.
"I have something I must do." He said roughly. "That is all." There was a disappointing silence. The girl stopped dabbing at his wounds and was rustling around behind him. The sound of her silky robes sliding against each other soothed the intensity of the moment.
Her hands brought a roll of cloth under his arms and around his waist, weaving around and around until his back was covered with the stretchy white bandage. She carefully pushed in the pin to hold the end of the strap to the rest and sighed with relief. The blood was surely trying to make it's way through already, she was surprised she wasn't already seeing flowers of blood red blooming in the pure white of the bandages.
The fragile looking priestess wrapped up her tools, her sponge, her near finished rolls of bandages, and her small boxes of pins, and then tied a small knot at t he top of her satchel. "Do not go." The man said, a sense of pleading in his voice as his hand touched her arm. "I feel I must explain myself and my actions. I did not intend to hurt you in anyway. I only meant. to protect you."
"Dear sir, pray tell what you would protect me from? Some horrible truth hidden within a guilty monks soul?" she asked warmly, her back still facing him as she looked up at the ceiling to push away tears.
"You wouldn't let me proceed in my actions if I told you." The man drew his hand away. "You would not let me go on if I uttered a word of my plans." The gentle priestess looked down to her side and closed her eyes, shuddering in her own bittersweet sorrow. There was a long silence that held the anxious man in unwanted suspense.
"You wish to go on a pilgrimage with Lord Braska. I know." She shuddered as she uttered these words, her entire body quivering with the burden of such knowledge. She opened her eyes once more and looked up. The two crystallized gems gleamed in the small ray of light that had pushed through the darkness of the room. "I thought maybe I had misheard, but I suppose that's it. I can tell by your silence." she let out a small smile as she watched a bird flutter out of the dark cage.
"But promise me this." She said turning around. "If the time we could have had together, bound by Yevon and all his teachings should be shattered by this decision. Promise me that you'll make it worth it. Promise me that every second of your being on this pilgrimage would have meaning, would accomplish something worthy of giving up true happiness. Promise me that and I would be spared of more tears shed on my bedroom pillow."
The man looked up at her, his face opening up in the light that broke into the small room. Amber eyes sparkled in the light, almost as if hope where shining down on the pair of dreamless souls. A streak of black hair fell in front of the man's face as he gave her a nod and a smile.
The woman bent down and kissed his forehead. "Then I forgive you, Sir Auron. I forgive you for not accepting my hand in marriage, I forgive you for setting you life on the line between the living and the dead." The Priestess walked out of the room, her black hair swaying back and forth as she walked forward, leaving the solemn man behind.
---
That was extremely hard for me to get out, me being devoid of emotions and all. Almost too much love in that one for me to handle, I felt like I was going to drop dead while writing it. It seems drama classes have payed off, in a small way to say the least. I'm going to go off and wonder what the f**k is wrong with me, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I.mmm. I dunno. Thanks for read, Ciao!
--- Disclaimer: All characters and such are copy write Squaresoft.
The sound of a whip smacking into bare flesh shattered the silence of the cellars. A man hung form the cellar ceiling, his hands tethered with chains and rope to the wooden rafters above. The whips sunk into the wounds it had opened from previous striking, it's surface coated with thick blood that the young man once possessed.
The most disturbing aspect of the scene was not the sounds of the ripping flesh that sent shivers up your spine, it was not the darkness of the room, nor the blood that dripped onto the dirt. It was the silence of the man. The man neither flinched nor cried out in pain. His expression was as calm as that of a silent statue, watching over a serene garden. No anger decorated his face, furrowing his brow. No hurt crossed his lips, or troubled his mind.
If one were to look at only his face, they would think him in deep meditation, in fact no one would doubt it if they found he was.
Of course he wasn't. His mind was anything but clear, and although it would be a pleasure to be relieved of the heart wrenching thoughts in his mind, he couldn't find the will or strength to even try. There was one thing that flashed in his mind with extraordinary clarity. The code of the guardian. Protect the summoner, even at the cost of ones life.
This was an entirely different situation. His cause was to be able to protect the summoner. A normal person's mind would have wavered by now, but his decision stayed strong and true. He would bear it; he would take this punishment for accepting guardianship. It seemed like a small price to pay for the happiness of Spira. He would after all most likely end up dead by the end of the year in the path he was taking; this small trifle had little impact on him.
But it did on the Woman in front of him. Priestess Kiko, daughter of High Priest of Bevelle, the jewel of their temple. She lived up to that name, in both beauty and kindness. Her face embodied a sort of Snow White charm, a pale face, with full bloom rose red lips, and ebony hair that cascaded down her back like a wave of black in the midnight sky. Her blue eye's glistened with crystal like tears that tumbled down her soft pink cheeks as she watched the warrior monk slash the whip down again.
The man before her merely smiled, trying to bring a ray of hope into her, but everyone knew that no one could have gone through this torture without feeling immense pain. The young woman's whimpers of anguish stood out where his should have been. Her hands were clenched together as she pleaded in her mind for the beatings to stop.
But it seemed as though her dear god Yevon had turned his back on the two, leaving her hopeless as the strikes continued on.
---
It was quiet now. The Warrior Monk was gone, as where the chains and ropes that had made their mark on the man's wrists. The man sat praying to his god in spite of his beatings, in spite of his blood wounds that pulsed on his back, throbbing in pain as the timed passed.
The sound of the cellar door opening sent a jolt of awareness down the man's spin. He continued to pray in silence as the sound of sandals gritting into the dirt ground greeted him.
The first sting came like the first strike of the whip, it was the sort of pain that electrocuted through your whole body, leaving you a bit stunned, and yet hurt at the same time. The wet sponge that now sunk into his back dabbed the blood gently from the wounds that jutted down his tanned skin. He didn't speak, but he stopped praying.
It hurt like hell, he would have to admit that, but he knew that it was for the better. Had he not known who it was he would have turned around and snatched the sponge away, and then begin to clean his wounds himself, but that would be rude, and he had certainly given this person enough trouble. It was amazing how gentle she was. He would understand it if she jabbed the sponge in, replacing the gentle pressure that was being applied to his back with her hand pressing itself against the sponge, digging it deeper into the wound then necessary.
"I'm sorry." A soft voice whispered. The man was silent as the girl continued on. "I know it's not my place to ask you this.but why didn't you." the girl dove into a lose of words as she continued, trying to stop the breaks of gentle sobs in her voice. "Accept me."
The man closed his eyes, feeling the piercing stings of the water filtering out all the dirt and dust in his back. It hurt to listen to the question somehow, but it hurt more to leave her hanging in silence as he collected his excuses into an answer.
"I have something I must do." He said roughly. "That is all." There was a disappointing silence. The girl stopped dabbing at his wounds and was rustling around behind him. The sound of her silky robes sliding against each other soothed the intensity of the moment.
Her hands brought a roll of cloth under his arms and around his waist, weaving around and around until his back was covered with the stretchy white bandage. She carefully pushed in the pin to hold the end of the strap to the rest and sighed with relief. The blood was surely trying to make it's way through already, she was surprised she wasn't already seeing flowers of blood red blooming in the pure white of the bandages.
The fragile looking priestess wrapped up her tools, her sponge, her near finished rolls of bandages, and her small boxes of pins, and then tied a small knot at t he top of her satchel. "Do not go." The man said, a sense of pleading in his voice as his hand touched her arm. "I feel I must explain myself and my actions. I did not intend to hurt you in anyway. I only meant. to protect you."
"Dear sir, pray tell what you would protect me from? Some horrible truth hidden within a guilty monks soul?" she asked warmly, her back still facing him as she looked up at the ceiling to push away tears.
"You wouldn't let me proceed in my actions if I told you." The man drew his hand away. "You would not let me go on if I uttered a word of my plans." The gentle priestess looked down to her side and closed her eyes, shuddering in her own bittersweet sorrow. There was a long silence that held the anxious man in unwanted suspense.
"You wish to go on a pilgrimage with Lord Braska. I know." She shuddered as she uttered these words, her entire body quivering with the burden of such knowledge. She opened her eyes once more and looked up. The two crystallized gems gleamed in the small ray of light that had pushed through the darkness of the room. "I thought maybe I had misheard, but I suppose that's it. I can tell by your silence." she let out a small smile as she watched a bird flutter out of the dark cage.
"But promise me this." She said turning around. "If the time we could have had together, bound by Yevon and all his teachings should be shattered by this decision. Promise me that you'll make it worth it. Promise me that every second of your being on this pilgrimage would have meaning, would accomplish something worthy of giving up true happiness. Promise me that and I would be spared of more tears shed on my bedroom pillow."
The man looked up at her, his face opening up in the light that broke into the small room. Amber eyes sparkled in the light, almost as if hope where shining down on the pair of dreamless souls. A streak of black hair fell in front of the man's face as he gave her a nod and a smile.
The woman bent down and kissed his forehead. "Then I forgive you, Sir Auron. I forgive you for not accepting my hand in marriage, I forgive you for setting you life on the line between the living and the dead." The Priestess walked out of the room, her black hair swaying back and forth as she walked forward, leaving the solemn man behind.
---
That was extremely hard for me to get out, me being devoid of emotions and all. Almost too much love in that one for me to handle, I felt like I was going to drop dead while writing it. It seems drama classes have payed off, in a small way to say the least. I'm going to go off and wonder what the f**k is wrong with me, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I.mmm. I dunno. Thanks for read, Ciao!