Pride can stand a thousand trials; the strong will never fall.
But watching stars without you, my soul cried.
Kissing you– Des'ree
"Unless you want me to permanently detach that hand from your body, I suggest you remove it from my person."
Tidus held up his hands in mock surrender. "Ok, ok! Jeez, it wasn't like I was touching your ass."
"No, because if you had been I wouldn't have asked you nicely to move. I'd have ripped your arm off." Lesca deadpanned.
"Feeling particularly violent today then?" The blitzer grinned.
She pretended to think on this for a second, placing a finger on her chin. "Why yes, yes I am. Interesting."
"Wanna go kill something?" He asked eagerly.
The older woman shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure."
Auron shook his head from his vantage point behind the squabbling pair. The two enjoyed their verbal spats; it was their way of keeping the boredom at bay. The monotony of the Calm Lands had everyone in the troupe looking for some form of entertainment. Rikku and Lulu were smirking as the mage taught the young Al Bhed some simple spells, aiming them directly at the red haired blitzer who was trying to explain the intricacies of Blitzball to the indifferent Ronso. The red robed man kept quiet and to himself, pondering their next move as he trudged over the vast green expanse. He pushed the glasses up his nose with a finger before adjusting the blade on his shoulder, a shiver creeping up the length of his spine. Auron's brow furrowed as he ran a cursory glance over the surroundings, trying to ascertain the presence of any threats to the group. Noting the area was free of fiends; he studied the unexplained reaction in more depth, wondering what could have drawn such a response from his staid demeanour.
The Guardian stopped as he realised where he was. Rooted to the spot by visions of the past, he remembered. This was where he had fought Sin at Braska's side. This was where he first caught sight of the thing Jecht had become and had recoiled in shock. He looked at the grass underfoot, expecting to see the crimson stains of erstwhile marring the crisp lushness. This was where he had cradled Braska as he drew his last breath. This was where he had seen finally seen through the prevarications and dissimulation of Yevon as his friend had been forced to merge with Yu Yevon, beginning the cycle anew. The memories of the day he had witnessed death and rebirth made him weak, and he leaned heavily on his sword, trying to clear his head of the damaging illusions. He had thrown his life to the winds of fate here, forsaken the chance of normality and bliss for foolhardy revenge. The knowledge burned into his mind, causing him to sway slightly in the gentle breeze that caressed the lands.
Lesca looked up with a grin from her latest kill, clutching a dropped item closely to her chest. She scanned the plains, looking for the man in red. The smile faded as she saw that he had froze and she bundled the prize over to Tidus who accepted without question. She padded over to her husband, waving a hand in front of his face. "Auron? Spira to Auron?" He didn't appear fazed and she swallowed heavily, speaking more quietly as she tried to quell the rising panic. "Auron?"
"He died here." Came the flat, monotone answer.
She winced, not wanting to know the answer to the question she was about to ask. "Who?"
"Braska. Your father died right here, and I could do nothing."
Lesca covered his gloved hand with her own, trying to contain her surprise as it trembled. "You tried."
He nodded absently. "But I should have come home."
"It's in the past." She said gently. "There's no use on dwelling on it."
"Perhaps…" He paused. "I hate this damn place. It's a fucking graveyard." He spat with vehemence.
His wife raised an eyebrow at the profanity but said nothing of it. "How so?"
He ground his teeth, a habit that had grown out of frustration and anger. "Summoner's come here to die, you know that as well as I do. No more. I will not allow it."
Lesca took his hand, leading him gently toward the others and away from the recollections. Lulu eyed her quizzically; nodding slightly at the silent look that was Lesca's response. Wakka opened his mouth to question the legendary Guardian, abstaining from the chance to probe the staid man's complex personality only when Lulu threw him a disarming smile. The black clad mage raised an eyebrow at her fellow patron of the dark arts, muttering darkly under her breath. "You owe me." Lulu walked on in front, catching up to Tidus and Yuna with Wakka in tow as he regaled her with Blitzball tales of yore.
Lesca threaded her gloved fingers through Auron's, half dragging him toward the Al Bhed agency situated near the middle of the plains. The touch seemed to calm him, his eye focusing on events in the present rather than those of the past. He adjusted his arm inside his robe, squeezing the small hand clutching his own to convey his appreciation of her contiguity. She glanced sideways at him, wondering if mere words could soothe the turbulent soul that lurked beneath the calm demeanour.
"It's ok, you know."
Auron turned his head to face her. "What do you mean by that?"
She traced idle circles with her thumb on his hand. "Whatever it is that you're feeling, it's ok to feel it. You don't have to live up to the legendary Guardian shit when you're with us. You're a man; you're not infallible. You'd be a hell of a lot less interesting if you were."
"I need to be strong, I cannot show weakness. They depend on it." He said brusquely, unnerved that she had read him so well.
"Being able to admit to your weaknesses and share them with others can only ever be a strength." Lesca pointed out onto the horizon where the Chocobo trainer was lovingly grooming one of the tall birds. "Look. Chocobo's have a weakness in that they cannot scavenge for themselves. Without a trainer, they would starve and the species would become extinct. The trainer cannot defend herself from fiends, but her charges protect her from them by ferrying her throughout the world. Both have a weakness and neither would have survived if they had not shared that frailty with the other. Together they are strong, infallible. Without the other they are weak. Admitting to your own shortfalls is half the battle. Share them, and the battle is won."
Auron raised an eyebrow. "You compare me to an overgrown bird?"
Her mouth hung agape until she recognised the twinkle in his eye that denoted mischief. "Meanie. You know what I mean though. Don't keep things from me."
He removed his hand from her own and rubbed at the stubble on his face as he stared at the ground. His voice was barely audible as he spoke. "I'm scared. What if I make the same mistake with Yuna as I did with Braska? What if I lead her to her death?" His voice dropped to a whisper. "What if I loose you? I couldn't bear it...I don't want to be a failure yet again."
"We're all here to make sure she lives. You could never be a failure, Auron. You need to forgive yourself; it wasn't your fault. And I promise you, you'll never loose me." She pointed to his heart and his head. "I'm in here and up here. With that, I'm always with you."
~*~*~
From atop the peaks of Gagazet, a lone figure watched the progression of the summoner and her Guardians. Seymour smirked, noting with glee the eldest Guardian's struggle with the events that had transpired in the past. The sneer quickly faded and was replaced by first shock and then unimaginable anger when Lesca crossed his field of vision. The Guado quelled the rage, replacing his calm demeanour as he began to converse with himself.
"I thought she would have departed for the Farplane. It was obvious what we'd done. Surely it must have had some effect on her relationship with that boor?"
The Maester narrowed his eyes. They still walk as lovers. It did not work. A pity. I thought your plans were brilliance?
"They are. If you fail to appreciate the subtle nuances of ingeniousness that is none of my concern. Yuna?"
Violet eyes flashed darkly. With the uncouth blitz player. We must put a stop to that, she is ours.
"We await her here then, and rid Spira of the mark of Jecht for all time."
~*~*~
"Thank you, Father Zuke, for your warning."
Yuna bowed to the holy man, smiling at Lesca and Auron as they approached the agency. "Father, these are the last of my Guardians. Sir Auron and my sister, Lesca."
The couple nodded cordially to the man, exchanging looks when Zuke's eyes widened. "Lesca? You were a summoner, correct?"
Lesca nodded, confused. The man continued. "You helped me on the outskirts of Zanarkand. At the time I was a Guardian, my summoner had fallen to the fiends that pray in the wastelands of the great city. You sent her."
She frowned as she remembered the dance, the haunting steps of her first and last sending. "I remember. So you became a summoner and then a holy man? It is a strange path from the one you were on."
Zuke smiled crookedly. "Let's say that Yevon has a lot to answer for. I can do more good in the order than from outside. That is the only reason I wear the robes of a false deity."
The former summoner sighed. "It's a pity we didn't know the true Yevon before we devoted such energy to the pursuit of a meaningless goal."
"Indeed. But now is not the point to waste time on regrets. Yevon is in a state of disorder. Things are calm on the surface, but the depths are turbulent. After the death of Maester Kinoc, Kelk Ronso left Yevon."
"Convenient. Getting around will be easier with Yevon in disarray." Auron commented.
Zuke hastily interjected. "But be careful, my friends. You have been branded enemies of Yevon."
Lesca sighed. "What else is new? Farewell, Zuke and safe passage." She exited the conversation, leaving Yuna and Lulu still talking to the Bevellian Monk.
Auron caught up to her, raising an eyebrow at her hasty departure. "Is he so difficult to converse with that he deserved such short shrift?"
She shook her head. "Not at all. But I don't want to be reminded of the past at every turn. The sending I performed haunts me as it is, I don't need to talk to him to remember it. It's hard…"
Auron lowered his eye. "I apologise. I should have realised."
"It's alright. You weren't to know."
"But I should have known! Braska was the same, the sending's he performed chilled him to the core. He told me often how it was the only part of his life as a summoner that he despised." He said fiercely, angry at his own indiscretion.
Lesca rested on the grass, leaning back to bask in the sun. "He was right though. It is the hardest duty to perform but also one of the most essential. The constant worry of what one wrong step can do to the souls entrusted to you…I pity her, you know. She's too young for such a burden."
"Are any truly prepared for it? Absolution should not rest on the shoulders of mortals."
"This place…this is your hell, isn't it? It's gotten under your skin; you link the clear skies and the endless plains with death. Auron, it's only a place, just like any other. Like Luca or Kilika, Besaid or Djose. It has no special powers, do not let the past interfere with your rational mind. You're more than this." She smiled wryly. "You're not me."
"There's nothing wrong with being you." He slumped beside her, tilting his head to the heavens. "I need to let it go."
"Yes."
He turned to face her and showed her his palms, as if the gesture was the physical embodiment of releasing his fears. "Then I will." He said simply.
~*~*~
Night drew in, wrapping the Calm Lands in a shroud of darkness. The dying embers of the nights fire glowed invitingly, calling those still awake to the fireside. Kimahri prowled the silent mesa, his sharp eyes searching for fiends that would threaten the peace of the Al Bhed agency. Wakka and Lulu had pleaded fatigue, retiring to rest before the luminary's final breath had been spent. Yuna had entreated Tidus to the back of the agency; the two giggling and whispering well into the night before sleep had claimed them. The young lovers lay curled in a chair; their heads touching softly as Tidus' arm held Yuna's slight frame close. Rikku was chattering with the Al Bhed woman, the mother of one of her friends lost in the attack on Home. And Lesca…Auron's lips quirked slightly upward as he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. She lay against him, huddled into his side as she slept.
He unhooked the tokkuri from his side and drank deeply, hoping the beverage would aid him in his quest to dull the memories. At his side, Lesca stirred in her sleep, mumbling incomprehensibly before burying her face more deeply into the scarlet robed mans side. He slipped his arm around her, stroking her hair absently as he drank. The warm effulgence secreted by the coals was almost hypnotic, looking into their depths a tonic to his soul. As he stared at the wood, he fancied he could see the effigies of his victims, the nameless faces whose lives he had been ordered to end as a Warrior Monk. They screamed at him for retribution, laughing as he began to tremble from the onslaught of their torment. He whispered to the night sky, hoping those stories he had cut short would hear his prayer. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"
Lesca looked up at him sleepily, rubbing grit from her eyes as she yawned. "What?"
"All the people I have killed, the lives I have ended…how can I hold you? My hands are forever tainted with the blood of the innocent." He stared at his palms, frowning at the stains he saw there.
"They look clean enough to me. We've all done things we aren't proud of, but that doesn't stop us from going on. Look at me." She commanded, using a gentle hand to guide his eye to meet her when he refused. "Stop this and stop it now. Their deaths weren't your fault, my fathers or Jecht's. Not the people who died by your hand in the name of Yevon. Yevon is the culprit; you did what you had to. Never forget that."
"I can't forget what wrongs I have committed."
She flung her hands up in frustration. "But you can forget the rights you have done? That to me is very strange logic."
"What rights?" He exploded. "I led your father to his death! I lead your sister to hers! I left you alone in this world to raise our child! What rights? Pray tell me my love, for I can think of none."
"You loved me. There is a right. You gave me our son. There's another. You fulfilled your promise to two dying men. A third. You were a father to an orphaned boy. You came back, you protect my sister, you keep your promises…Need I go on? Snap yourself out of this damnable self-pity, Auron. It's not becoming of you." Lesca said softly, threading a hand through his salt and peppered hair.
"I…apologise."
"It's alright. Everything's going to be ok." She lay on the grass, staring up at the night sky, gesturing for him to join her. With a grumble he did so, offering her the warmth of his coat before he settled. She accepted gladly, the warmth of the heavy material and the pleasant weight of his arm heating her chilled bones. "You know, I used to watch the stars when you were gone, wondering if you were up there among them. I always used to think that whichever star shone the brightest against the nights cheek would be yours."
He looked at her from the corner of his eye. "You are more beautiful than the diamond studded heavens. Nothing could compare to you."
Lesca entwined her legs with his, capturing his hand and pressing her own to it, palm to palm. "So alike and yet so different. Is this how it is? We look for someone who is so completely opposite to ourselves, but in being so juxtaposed we find a kindred spirit?"
"If so, then fate must laugh at the minds of lovers."
Her eyes ran over the line of his jaw seductively, lingering on the swell of his lips. "Do they laugh at us?"
"Most definitely."
She brushed her lips over the stubble, stopping as she reached his mouth. Her free hand came up to trail a lazy finger down the scarred cheek. She mumbled into his lips, the vibrations of her throaty purrs tickling his lips. "Want to make them laugh more?"
His eyebrows raised, amused. "And how do you propose to do that?"
Lesca made a little sound of want, nipping his lower lips gently as she raised her own eyebrow suggestively.
"Oh…" He trailed off as she grinned wickedly at him.
~*~*~
Strike now! They sleep, unsuspecting! The timing is perfect.
Seymour shook his head, clenching the staff so tightly his knuckled turned deathly white. "No. Let them rest. The worthy await their prey in the light of day, not stalking under the cover of night like the cowardly Skoll. We wait."
A sneer. You wish to torture us further by watching them. They are no better than animals, barely able to contain their lust. Pitiful. Do you derive some twisted pleasure from being a voyeur?
The Maester smirked, drawing his robes around him as the biting winds of Gagazet stole around his frame. "Yes. That was us not so long ago."
She was less than willing.
"Do not remind me." He smiled the smile of the truly insane. "They will both be ours. The dream and the unsent shall be crushed."
Mother would be proud.
"Yes. She would." Seymour said softly, staring out wistfully over the plains as the fire of passion burned brightly in the lands below. Sealed in her Fayth, Anima wept for the son she could not save, the son whose greatest enemy was himself. Her son, Seymour, who held insanity to his breast and coveted it, worshipped it as his saviour and Sin as his redemption. She wept for her failures, and prayed the young summoner would forgive her, for she could never forgive herself.
Mega thanks to Pierson for looking over this and not freaking over crazy Seymour. I admit crazy Quisty gave me the idea. Also for Ref for making me think of crazy Seymour and planting the suggestion in my head. Usually a bad idea. Meh.
Thanks to...
The Angel of the Lion
The Great Skippy
yunalesca78
pikachu612
and Durven.
Thanks all for the kind words. And Durven? I think you'll like the epilogue ;)
