Disclaimer: This is the only one. I don't own anything to do with Final Fantasy X.
Excommunicated.
The word stung me like a blow to the face. Such a severe punishment for a minor, trifling transgression. Was it even a misdemeanour? I would say it was a welcome escape for us both. The Maester's daughter and I, we do not get along. Heh. That is perhaps an understatement; we detest one another. Yet still, our union would have been held in high regard within the Yevon order. Indeed, my advancement within the order rested on it. A promotion is not worth the life long misery the marriage would entail.
"The Maester's daughter and the Warrior Monk, what an interesting pair! He's expected to achieve great things you know, perhaps even become Maester when her father ascends to the Farplane. They say that is why the Maester wishes the marriage."
Fools. They think I don't know what they say about me. I know. I just don't give a damn. I really couldn't care less about becoming a Maester; they're all Yevondamn hypocrites anyway. Them with their teachings that forbid the use of the heathen's machina then go and install the damn things in the temples. If that is not dissimulation I don't know what is.
I find myself here on the outside of the temple where once I had been within. It doesn't bother me that I must find my own path from here on; I don't care that Yevon sneers at me. What scares me is the fact that I am no longer a part of anything. The only family I knew has been ripped away from me in spite. The scared orphan child I was when I came to the order still holds some sway over my actions; I want to cling to the security and comfort my routine driven life held for me. But it is gone and I can't get it back. My pride prevents me from showing any emotion to them, they will never know of this turmoil. Never.
Excommunicated.
As a monk, I have been trained to fear no foe, human nor fiend, yet this word makes me break out in a cold sweat. Who would have guessed that such a small word could hold within its utterance such terror? There have been others unfortunate enough or stupid enough to seal their fate as an ex-monk before, but I never thought I would be one within their ranks. I had always thought…it doesn't matter. It's not going to happen now, so why make the torment two-fold by thinking on what might have been? I can't believe I threw it all away on the strength of one chance encounter with a woman who may not even remember me. I have never been one to take risks. Stoical, yes. Dependable, definitely. But risk taker? Chance is not a word I have in my vocabulary. I leave nothing to fate. Yet here I am, entrusting the rest of my life to the stars. Fool that I am. Changed forever by whom? By her and her bewitching eyes.
I can remember the look on Kinoc's face when I told him of my decision. I laugh about it even now as I walk, bloodied and sore, to the address on the scrap of paper I cling to. People part as I stroll past them, my progress unhindered for once. I suppose a ragged Warrior Monk chuckling to himself would unnerve most people. I thought Kinoc's eyes were going to fall out of his head when I said I wouldn't marry the Maester's daughter. He saw it in my face that something had happened to cause such a dramatic turn in my decision. I rarely smile. She made me smile, even laugh. A lot. It makes me wonder what else she could do if she put her mind to it, for she performed those small miracles unconsciously, not knowing how seldom I allow joy to grace my visage. He warned me of my fate, but still he gave his blessing. The cynical side of me wonders if it is because he knew the promotion meant for me would pass to him in my absence. I know it to be false. Kinoc, he was a true friend to me. We were two kindred souls who found each other within an uncaring temple.
When we were small, we used to go to the roof of the temple in the dead of night, the same roof where I pondered the proposal mere hours ago. We used to talk of everything and nothing. He was always the jovial child, the one the priest's and visitors to the temple would dote on. They were wary of me, the small, moody boy in the corner, eyeing them critically with my russet gaze. The wariness turned to apprehension, even fear as I grew, for then I had height and power on my side. It was uncalled for. Perhaps…perhaps if someone had shown me the kindness they bestowed so easily upon Kinoc I wouldn't have turned to myself to solve life's problems. Again, why bother with the technicalities of what ifs and maybes? The scepticism is part of me now, forever entwined with my sarcasm and mistrust. No one can change that.
Can they?
The first few steps as I left the temple were the hardest I have ever had to make, every step more difficult than the last. But now, as the temple fades from sight and the small house that is my destination comes into view, I find I am almost running. I have to laugh at that. I always said that love was for the fools of the world, yet here I am, a fool in love. Love after one conversation, one meeting. How the fates must be laughing now, their revenge on the non-believer to make him experience it for himself. Cruel, twisted…I like them better already. At least now I know they have a sense of irony.
Two years ago, though it seems so much longer now, Kinoc and I sneaked out of the garrison. We broke the rules. Actually, he broke the rules. In following him to ensure he wouldn't do anything even more foolish he made sure I broke them too. He had met a girl, he said he was in love with her. I said he was a fool, funnily enough. I argued that he knew nothing of love. Kinoc had waved away my rage. He asked me why I was so against happiness, my own and that of others. To tell the truth, his words that day, they made me think. Am I really against cheer? I don't think so, but then why do I make it so hard for others to bring me bliss? Some have tried. All have failed. She didn't even try and she has succeeded. It bothers me. Maybe that is what I was looking for. Someone to take me at face value, see past the proper speech, the uptight values I hold so dear and see…me. She didn't question me like the rest; she inquired about Auron the person, not Auron the monk.
We are two separate entities. Auron the person wants to know love, he has craved closeness since he was a child. He believes in such laughable ideas as love at first sight, soul mates and fate. Auron the monk pushes those who try to get close to him away, using his solitude as a barrier from the world. He has been hurt too much, this way he ensures his heart remains intact, if cold and stone like. He believes you make your own destiny, the notion that it is written, that the path one takes through life is as some estoilic confluence is nonsensical to him. He wishes it were not the case. Both men want their story to have a happy ending. Only one can see it as a possibility.
I talk of stories. I talk of dreams. A wiser man than me once wrote that dreams are "the children of an idle brain begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconstant than the wind." I know the statement to be true, but why then do I still wish to dream of the joy that has eluded me throughout my life? The joy I think she can give me? In the battery-induced slumber outside of my former home, I dreamt a dream. I dreamed that she came to me, whispering words of adoration and comfort. Comfort. I have not felt comfort for as long as I can remember. Was my dream "vain fantasy"? Probably. Who could love one such as I, a man emotionally scared by organisation afraid to breed into its warriors love and compassion? I feel only Kinoc has stopped my heart from turning completely to stone, he clung onto his own humanity with a fierce determination that even now I find admirable. He made me care for his well being through the friendship that he offered me so selflessly. And so, I learned of love and I learned of compassion. Though much of what he taught may be dead to me now I am no longer an impressionable child, it still lingers somewhere within me. It'll just take someone to coax it to bloom once more. Someone special. Someone like her.
She is my dreamer. I can see her in my minds eye, dancing without a care as to who may watch, laughing with the joy of one who is truly alive, who loves life. I wish…I could join her. I want to throw off the shackles that bind me and soar with her above the constraints of propriety. Maybe one day I will, maybe she'll teach me. I have a feeling that she sees in me something I do not. She is grace and love personified. I am the personification of mindless, clumsy war. There is no hate in me, but until now there has been no love either. I have survived an existence, not lived a life. I would like to experience life. Travel the whole of Spira, see the end of Sin for good…make love to my dreamer on a secluded beach, whisper sweet nothings into her ear as the sun rises over the horizon.
I watch her now, my dreamer. Watching as she slumbers peacefully next to me. She is mine and I belong to her, every part. I wonder if she dreams of me. The lessons she has taught me in our short time together will remain with me for the rest of my life. My life. She gave it back to me. The teachings of life should serve me well on the pilgrimage. I have no will to leave her; my heart starts to ache as the sun rises, exuding its light. Despite the growing warmth I feel so cold. The dawn brings with it death. My dreamer stirs, an unconscious touch from her making me shiver. The luminary plays with her contours; casting shades and shadows as it strokes her with mellifluous fingertips. Insane as it may be, I am jealous that the life-giving orb can touch her with such impunity. I look over to her as she gazes up at me, sleep making her eyes heavy.
Excommunicated.
I care not. It holds no fear for me now. Because of her. My fear now is losing her.
My dreamer. My wife. I love you.
Just a little idea I had. Review, flame, whatever. I'm sorry, I'm feeling especially bitter today. That's what happens when no one reviews your fic and you sweat blood over it. Again, my apologies. Quote is from Romeo and Juliet by the great bard and is said by Mercutio.