*****Standard Disclaimer. I do not own FFX or the characters in it. They are owned by Square-Enix. I do own this story, and my original characters. The song "Slow Hand" was written by Michael Clark and John Bettis, performed by The Pointer Sisters, and "Help Me" was written and performed by Joni Mitchell, and I don't own them, either.******
After a second day traversing the twisting paths of the Macalania Woods, the party had reached the shelter of another of Rin's ubiquitous Travel Agencies. They all dreaded the next stage of their journey, which would probably result in another meeting with Seymour Guado. Auron had his doubts about Yuna's ability to successfully negotiate with the wily young Maester, but as she had invoked her Summoner's privilege, the next move was up to her. At least, the relative safety of the Agency would permit all of them to get a decent night's rest, although he suspected that Kimahri would spend the night patrolling the hall outside Yuna's room. That was the Ronso's choice. Auron was planning to spend another night with his memories for company.
…Zanarkand…five years ago…Friday/Saturday
By the time they went onstage at 10:30, she was so keyed up she was ready to climb the walls of the Green Room. On the one hand, she had argued with Daf until she had some very specific songs in the playlist that night. She wanted to send Auron a message, if he was willing to understand it. And she wanted to sing "Seven Wonders" for him again, maybe for the last time, if he didn't get it. But then she was too damned nervous to even check to see if he was in the audience!
Then the manager asked them to sing the full six songs tonight, even though it was Friday and he had a lot of acts lined up. He thought they were getting "hot", and he hoped they would hold the audience, since the group before them wasn't very good. Too much happening at once. It's enough to give a girl the vapors, she thought.
As she scanned the audience she saw that he was there now. Second row table. Getting to be a creature of habit. Dafydd strummed the opening bars for the first number, and she began to sing. She made eye contact with Auron, just for a second, and nodded to him, then she began to look over the crowd. This song wasn't for him.
He watched her, heard her voice, but he wasn't taking in the words. After the initial eye contact, her gaze was roaming the crowd, so it was clear that there was nothing aimed at him in this song. He hoped he might have some semblance of self-control by the time there was.
His breath had quickened at the sight of her. His groin tightened to the point where pleasure almost met pain. But her face completely mesmerized him. It was beautiful, strong, fiercely determined, utterly female, and filled with such joy as she sang. Her body was a delight to his senses, as she prowled back and forth across the stage in time to the music. His fingers twitched. The urge to untie the bow at her back and fill his hands with her breasts was beyond any temptation he had ever known.
The second song was sad and sweet, about love, and loss, and not directed anywhere in particular. The third song was different again. The rhythm was like sex, nothing else. It seemed to beat in his blood. If he had calmed down at all, he was on fire again, maybe more. And now, she was singing for him, at least for part of the song. She didn't quite have the courage to speak, yet, but to sing:
I want a man with a slow hand
I want a lover with an easy touch
I want somebody who will spend some time
Not come and go in a heated rush
I want somebody who will understand
When it comes to love I want a slow hand
Then her eyes turned away. The rest of the song said she'd found the man, and Mercy had no idea whether she had, or not. He got the message. But was it necessary for the entire audience to receive it, as well? Auron was not certain which he desired more at that moment, to leave with her, immediately, and answer the question she had just implied in the song, or to simply sink through the floor, in complete embarrassment.
She wasn't done. There was one more thing she needed to tell him, so as the applause died, Daf began strumming the opening bars for the next song, and she quickly followed with the verse, as her eyes met Auron's again:
Help me
I think I'm falling
In love again
When I get that crazy feeling, I know
I'm in trouble again
As she sang she turned away from him, let the meaning start to sink in. He sat, amazed, trying to absorb what he was hearing. Her eyes returned to meet his, to sing:
Help me
I think I'm falling
In love too fast
It's got me hoping for the future
And worrying about the past
'cause I've seen some hot hot blazes
Come down to smoke and ash
This message was also clear. She had one last point to make before the song ended:
Help me
I think I'm falling
In love with you
Are you going to let me go there by myself?
That's such a lonely thing to do
Both of us flirting around
Flirting and flirting
Hurting too
We love our lovin'
But not like we love our freedom
He took his glasses off, and put them on the table, to be sure she could see him clearly. She bowed to the audience as they applauded. When she stood, she looked at Auron. He met her gaze, and nodded. She still wondered if that meant he understood, he felt the same, or just that he liked the song. She was just going to have to ask. He sat in wonder. If he understood correctly, she felt as he did. But would she believe?
One more song, something Daf had wanted, then they closed with "Seven Wonders". Auron was absurdly touched by the gesture. As soon as they were done, she went to Auron's table, learned over the vacant chair, picked up the waiting water glass, drained half, and asked, "Go home?" "Sure," he replied, low, almost hoarse.
Neither of them spoke much on the way. Either they were silent, or they both tried to talk at once. It was as though there were no safe topics. Also, she was too wrapped up in her own fears to see that he was also troubled.
Inside her apartment she brought the lights on low, hung her jacket on the coat rack. Auron put his glasses in a coat pocket, fumbling on the first attempt. He started to take of his coat, but she stopped him. "Wait, there's something I need to say." She studied her toes for several seconds, then met his puzzled face. "Auron, I…" the window this time, "I'm not interested in a one-night stand, or a brief fling." She took a deep breath, then plunged on. "I'm falling in love with you. If you're not planning to take this relationship seriously, leave now. You'll hurt me less in the long run."
He needed a few seconds to translate the unfamiliar slang. He decided that both terms meant "casual encounter". Not what he wanted, either. He had revealed too much for that. How to tell her? He decided to answer her question from the tower, instead of the immediate challenge. It would serve.
"The question you asked the other night, 'What do I need?' he responded quietly, asking rather than answering directly."
"Yes?" she replied, uncertain of the change in direction.
He cupped her face in his hands. "I need you," he whispered, as he bent to kiss her. He drew her close, into his arms. After, they looked closely into each other's faces, then her eyes closed slowly, and she inclined her head. Yes. Tonight, there would be plenty of time. He swept her up into his arms.
As he carried her into her bedroom, he only noticed that the room was bathed in the moonlight and starlight from the large windows that dominated two of the walls, the light spilling over the large, unmade bed. He wasn't paying attention to anything else, except the sweetness of her mouth on his. For this one night, nothing else would matter.
He set her down on the edge of the bed, and she patted the mattress beside her, in the universal gesture for 'sit here', so he did. Further encouragement wasn't necessary for either of them, at this point. The earlier restraints were gone. Kisses weren't enough, she wanted to reach him, needed to get him out of all that armor, now. She started fumbling with his belt as his mouth traced a line along her shoulder. He felt what she was attempting, and made short work of his belt, then his coat and breastplate, while he was at it. He was half on top of her now, her hands pulling at his remaining t-shirt, frantic to reach the bare flesh underneath. We've both waited too long for this, she thought. His mouth slanted over hers, the kiss hard, insistent. The aching need they had for each other overwhelmed them. His fingers found the bow at her back, and pulled, and her shirt nearly fell apart around her body. He traced a line in fire to her breasts, with hands and tongue, then she got his shirt over his head. The shock of so much skin contact, his bare chest against her breasts, removed any shred of control either of them had left. The rest of their clothes, his boots, her shoes, seemed to vanish. Next time, maybe we'll manage to take a little more time to explore, but we need this now, she thought, looking up at him rising naked above her. As he plunged deep inside her, he thought to himself, I need you now. Tomorrow be damned.
Her hips rose to meet his, as she reached for a peak only she could see, somewhere past the moonlight, in the starlight. When she found it, she shattered in his arms, calling his name, and, he went there with his, losing himself deep inside her.
Later, she woke, half freezing and half smothered. They were at the foot of the bed, there were no blankets within reach, so the part of her that Auron wasn't covering was cold, and she couldn't breathe, since the part of her he was covering was mainly the part that included her lungs. Straightening themselves out took some time, as well as separating some of the bits of their clothing from the bedding, but eventually they managed to get settled right ways onto the bed, with their heads where the pillows were, and under the blankets. She curled up against his side, her hand idly tracing patterns on the hard wall of his chest. He caressed her arm, drew her close. He wondered, what will happen in the morning? What if there was only this night? Her idle hand traced lower, beneath the blankets. His eye darkened. There was still plenty of night left. And maybe, he promised himself, some of the morning, before he had to tell her. This second time, they were able to explore each other before need consumed them. And sleep took them after.
In the morning, they indulged themselves by sleeping in. Then they indulged each other. It was the most decadent morning Auron could ever remember in his entire life. He hoped it wouldn't be the last such. She was still snuggled dreamily in his arms when he finally managed to choke out the dreadful words, "I have something to tell you."
Mercy sat up instantly, pulling the sheet to her breasts. "If you 're about to tell me you have a wife and kiddies in the suburbs, I'm going to kill you," she said with menace.
He was sitting too, now, facing her. "No, no, no, nothing like that, I swear it."
"You're not married?"
"No, never. Well, almost, but I turned her father down five years ago."
"Close doesn't count. As long as you're not married, or engaged, or have a girlfriend back home, or stashed someplace, now."
"No, no one but you."
She was slightly more relaxed now, but still wary. He watched her as the thoughts clicked into place in her mind. At last she asked, "Does this mean you are planning to fill in the blanks, then?"
"Yes."
He persuaded her to lie back down, first. He wanted to hold her while he talked. He wasn't sure which of them he thought would need the comfort, or maybe it would just make it more difficult for her to throw him out, but eventually, he convinced her to lie under the blankets with him again.
The explanation took a long time. He told her everything he knew about Spira, and Zanarkand, and Sin. Why the places he visited didn't all exist in her Zanarkand. How he traveled from Spira to Zanarkand. The name of his other friend, Tidus' father, Jecht. The nature of Sin. The true meaning of his journey, the pilgrimages, the fayth, the summonings, the need to stop them. His own useless death. The spiral of death that was Spira. The certainty that in five years, Jecht would come for the boy, and him, and destroy the city to do so.
She asked a few questions while he talked, but mostly, she just listened. At the end she said, "It all fits. I knew you were telling the truth, but couldn't reconcile it with what I knew. This does. It also explains some historic anomalies, such as why no large cites have developed other than Zanarkand. That wasn't logical. I suppose no one was supposed to notice." She tried to sound casual, but wasn't quite able to pull it off.
"You believe me?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes." But there was so much sadness in her voice. He saw a tear slide down her cheek. "I have to believe. Your Sin killed my parents, didn't it?" He wiped the tear away with his hand, and nodded.
"Auron, am I a dream?" her voice shaking a little.
"I don't know. I think you are more than just a dream, now. Jecht definitely was. He not only came to Spira, he became Sin. He plans on Tidus killing him, maybe to break the cycle, so Tidus must also be more than a dream. Your life has already been touched by Sin, so you must be more, too. But this Zanarkand is a dream, the dream of the survivors of the destruction of the Zanarkand in Spira. They used their memories to recreate Zanarkand, nearly 1,000 years ago, and the energy of their summoning sustains it. But it is real to those who live here. And their souls are their own. When Tidus' mother died, her soul went to the Farplane, I felt it go."
"The Farplane?"
"The Farplane is where the dead reside. In Spira, Summoners send the souls of the newly departed to the Farplane. Otherwise the dead usually become fiends."
"Auron, you said usually. You didn't become a fiend. And you said Tidus' mother made it to this Farplane of yours, but there are no Summoners here."
"If a person is able to accept death while they are still alive, they can reach the Farplane even without a Summoner. Tidus' mother just…didn't want to go on living, so, she did not. She sought death, and she found it. I found death, but I could not let go of living. I still had…promises to keep. I could not keep them if I went to the Farplane, or if I became a fiend, so…I did neither."
He knew that her frame of reference was different from his, but still, he still had to ask the question that plagued him most, the one that would be most important on Spira, "My lady, I am an unsent. Does that not trouble you?"
"Auron, it makes me glad."
His expression was thunderstruck. Maybe she was the crazy one.
She laughed a little, that he didn't get the joke. "You wouldn't be here if you weren't," she said simply.
Then she was very serious. "It is much more troubling that 'all this'", she gestured around her, "the world as I know it, and possibly my life, will end in five years, when Sin comes for you and the boy. She was silent for a moment, trying to shield her thoughts from her face. I think it may be too late already. When you go, I think maybe my world goes with you. Aloud she said, "If we only have five years, we had better make the most of them." She was smiling as she kissed him, and for a brief time they were able to keep the future and all it held at bay, but as they made love, he was able to taste the salt of her tears.
…Spira…
He woke alone, in the Travel Agency in Macalania, to discover that his own cheeks were wet with tears. He wasn't sure if they were for the young Summoner he was guarding, or for himself.
End Chapter six