*****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 songs "Anticipation" and Coming "Around Again" were written and performed by Carly Simon, and I don't own them, either.******
He had already stood his watch for the night, now it was Kimahri's turn. Thankfully, the desert sands showed intruders long before they arrived. He thought back to the scene under the Lake ice, where Rikku had chided him for his comments to Yuna. The Al Bhed had been right. It had not been necessary to take his frustrations out on his summoner. Was he any better because he was the only one listening to his regrets? Only, they weren't regrets. Merely memories…
…Zanarkand…Five years ago…Saturday
She had to say no when Auron asked her to dinner that night. "How about tomorrow night?"
"Why not tonight?"
"I have to meet Dafydd to decide on a playlist. It's tradition." They were in the shower by this time. She was trying to get cleaned up. He was doing his best to be…distracting. She barely made it out of the apartment in time to meet her brother, while Auron went back to his place to change into clean clothes. He had invited her to come to his dojo Monday evening to work out. He wanted to see what she could do with those swords of hers. She had made him promise to give her a good workout to make up for the one she had skipped that afternoon. As he looked around his somewhat austere apartment, he had a clear picture of exactly how the workout would end. He grinned at himself in the mirror while he shaved.
As she went to meet Dafydd she had an idea. Could Auron take her with him, back to Spira, when the time came? She would have to ask. Meanwhile, five years seemed a long way off.
They were planning to open with "Anticipation". She almost changed her mind when she saw the crowd. Not only was the place packed, but also Servo, the little weasel, was at a wall table, six rows back. He was a scout/booking agent/manager for a noble house that owned several clubs around town that actually booked acts. Goodness, they were being scouted! Maybe she shouldn't after all. No. If she couldn't hit the note tonight she never would.
When she and Daf got their cue to come on, she walked by Auron's table, put her arm around his shoulders for a moment and kissed him lightly, for luck. He hugged her briefly, one-armed, in response. She climbed the stairs to the stage. Dafydd began the opening bars for "Anticipation"; it was a good opening number. The audience could think it was at least in part about the performance. And, as she looked over at Auron, he could see that some of it was meant for him, alone.
And tomorrow we might not be together
I'm no prophet, I don't know nature's way
So I'll try to see into your eyes right now
And stay right here, 'cause these are the good old days.
And as she sang, her voice soared, and she pulled the high note out of the stars. Auron found himself praying to whoever might be listening, "Please let her reach the Farplane. Please."
The did two more, one soft, one where she could strut on stage, for fun, then "Coming Around Again", which fit her voice, and her mood:
And I believe in love
But what else can I do
I'm so in love with you
The crowd kept applauding, louder and louder, after each number. This had been the fourth. They were supposed to do five, but the manager caught their eyes after this and held up six fingers. She and Daf looked at each other and nodded. They did six, closing with Seven Wonders. This is getting to be a tradition, Dafydd thought to himself, but it's worth it to see her glowing again. The crowd didn't want to let them go. After the usual "Good night," the packed house got to its feet and started shouting, "Encore." Mercy and her brother found themselves trapped in the glare of the houselights, not quite sure what to do, surprised, delighted, and not a little stunned. They didn't have a seventh song specially programmed into the machine that provided their instrumentation, just leftovers from the last few nights. They weren't sure what to do.
Auron just wanted to get her out of there. Mercy was positively glowing, and he wanted her all to himself, preferably as soon as possible. If he could just think of one of the songs from the night before, she could sing it and go. He only remembered one song besides "Seven Wonders" from the night before, music as mass entertainment being virtually unknown on Spira. He used his cupped hands to make his voice carry over the crown noise and called to her, "Do Slow Hand." He realized his mistake as soon as the words were out of his mouth. Her grin was the wickedest thing he'd ever seen that wasn't actually evil. She turned to Dafydd and he nodded, the instrumentation was still in from the night before.
Where last night the song was a question, tonight it was an affirmation. Anyone with eyes knew that the man who had requested the song was the one she was singing to. Auron discovered he could still blush, after all. On stage she was so hot, that he felt like he was the one on fire. It was the performance of a lifetime, but it seemed like they were the only two there. As the song ended, Auron walked up to the edge of the stage. Mercy met him as she finished, and stepped off into his arms. He carried her out, the crowd applauding wildly, as though it were part of the act. Dafydd bowed again, and exited the stage. The booking agent, Servo, followed quickly after. He had a business proposition to discuss with Mercy and Dafydd.
It didn't take long, at least for the preliminaries. The lawyers would be looking things over Monday morning, but it looked like Mercy and Dafydd would finally be getting paid to perform, Wednesdays and Fridays. Now that it was over, and the little weasel was gone, she was leaning against Auron, boneless in relief. "Let's go home," she said to him. Auron smiled down at her in reply. Dafydd noticed that she was referring to her home as though it was home to both of them. Maybe it is, he thought. If so, somebody sure works fast.
On the way 'home' Auron had an idea. "Come with me tomorrow."
"Where?"
"I usually spend Sunday afternoons with Tidus. Come with me, meet the boy."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Okay." What have I gotten myself into now? she thought.
She noticed something different. "Auron, what's in the pack?"
"Clean clothes", he replied, somewhat worried. He knew it was presumptuous, but he wanted to stay as long as she would let him, and this would be simpler.
"Oh." She paused. "Good idea," she finally said with a grin. He grinned back in answer. And relief.
When they arrived at her place, it was surprisingly simple. In one night, some things had shifted from unknown to known. Her jacket and his coat went on the rack by the door. They watched each other do the things they knew were still easier done for oneself, and some things were more fun to watch than to do. It was his problem to get his boots off, and to get out of his armor, although he was starting to think it might be simpler to blend in for the rest of the time he was in Zanarkand, to dress like everyone else. Besides, she might like it. He loved watching her unlace those shoes she performed it. The sight never ceased to fascinate, and arouse him. They helped each other with whatever remained of their clothes. For a little while, they could forget the world, and lose themselves in each other. After, he held her close in the dark. "Mercy, my lady, I love you. I love you, too, Auron.
Sleeping, she dreamed she was caught in a terrible storm. The storm seized her and tore her apart. She didn't know whether she was drowning, being eaten, torn limb from limb by terrible winds, or worse. She woke, screaming. Auron was awake, instantly. "Love, it was a nightmare, you're awake now, hush, hush." He was rocking her, trying to get her to lie back down, so he could cover her with the blankets, warm her with his body, she was ice cold, shivering with shock, fear. Her teeth were chattering. Finally, she was warm enough again that she could talk without her teeth chattering, but she was weeping, tears falling like rain.
"You can't take me with you, can you?" she sobbed, her arms locked around his waist.
"How did you know?" He held her close, as tightly as he could.
"That was the nightmare. You tried. Why didn't it work?"
His own cheeks were wet, tears spilling down his face. He had to make several attempts before he could speak. "Jecht wants the boy to come to Spira. He believes Tidus can find a way to break the cycle. He's certain his son hates him enough to kill him. He'll bring the boy through unharmed. He thinks he needs me to keep the boy alive long enough to do the job, so I'll make it through. But Sin is a destroyer, and Jecht is Sin. If I try to bring you to Spira, Sin will destroy you, in order to hurt me, and just because it can. And you won't be able to reach the Farplane from that kind of death."
It had taken a long time for her to fall back to sleep that night, but eventually, she slipped into an uneasy, but dreamless, sleep. He held her close through the night, awake until after the moon set. He finally let himself doze a little, but he was afraid to fall too deeply asleep, in case she woke again. In the sleepless hours, he found himself repeating, over and over, "Please let her reach the Farplane."
…Spira…
She had been right, he thought bitterly. Those had been 'the good old days'.
Kimahri glanced at the sleeping campsite, saw the dark warrior shake his head in anger, or regret. Auron troubled by more than loss of Yuna, the Ronso thought. Kimahri wishes he could help, but he does not know what this trouble is. Must find Yuna first. Then maybe Kimahri can help brother warrior. He continued his watch for what remained of the night.
End Chapter Seven