*****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 "Hurts So Good" was written by John Mellencamp and George Green, and performed by John Mellencamp, and "Go Insane" was written by Lindsey Buckingham, performed by Fleetwood Mac, and I don't own them, either. The title of this chapter is from a song in chapter 4.******
The party reached the Calm Lands Travel Agency the following afternoon, only to be met by Father Zuke, with his news that they had been officially declared traitors to Yevon. Yuna tried not to show how much his words weighed on her, but it was difficult. She discovered that it was one thing to believe something terrible, and quite another to hear it confirmed.
Auron was cautiously optimistic about the information regarding Kelk Ronso. But he was not surprised. He had not thought that murdering one's father would be consistent with the Ronso Elder's concept of honor. He reflected that Yuna's straight spirit might yet win them a pass over Gagazet, in spite of Mika's pronouncement, since the Ronso had left the other Maesters. What would happen on the other side of the mountain was still a problem to be solved, but at least now he thought they had a chance of getting there to solve it.
But Yuna was clearly troubled by Zuke's words, and they were all still weary after Bevelle. They also needed to take this opportunity to replenish their supplies, as the Palace guards had rifled their belongings, and Yuna's small pack had been taken from her when she had been captured and never returned. This might be their last chance to restock in any case. The party would be lucky if the Ronso gave them safe passage over Gagazet, under the circumstances. Hospitality was probably too much to hope for. Auron conferred with Kimahri. They agreed that the best plan was to stay the night at the Agency, using the time to open all their bags, replenish and repack, spend the night where they could count on the Agency guards instead of their own, and get some much-needed rest.
The campsite was first, set up in one of the 'loops' of the Agency grounds, allowing for an arrangement that placed Yuna closest to the center of the Agency, with Auron and Kimahri on the outside edge of the group. Auron and Kimahri were not truly planning to rely wholly upon Agency guards, after all. After a thorough inventory of the contents of their packs and bags, Rikku and Lulu were elected to negotiate for what the party needed. Rikku did the negotiating in the Al Bhed tongue, while Lulu and her Cait Sith glared from behind. A fair division of labor that seemed to result in a large number of items at reasonable prices, and a dinner that no one in the party had to cook, a treat for everyone.
After the fruits of their labor were eaten or distributed, it was time to settle down for the night. Auron lay on his back, with his hands behind his head, looking up at the stars. He and Kimahri had agreed earlier, they would pretend to sleep, and split the watch, Auron first, Kimahri second. He checked that his katana was by his left hand, and then stopped. It wasn't just the katana. Everything he had removed for the night was at his left. Still.
Zanarkand…fourteen months ago until two months ago
Jecht had sent him a dream. In the dream, even though his friend's back was turned to him, he still knew it was Jecht. That hair, and the way he cracked his neck. The dream was in Zanarkand, but a ruined Zanarkand, the city as Sin fashioned it, Auron had thought. Jecht spoke to him, in the dream. "How's my boy doin'? I'm coming in one year, Auron. You got any unfinished business, you better start finishin' it." Auron woke, but tried to keep still, not to wake Mercy sleeping beside him. There was still time, he thought. He rolled onto his side, pulling her sleeping form against his chest. He kissed her awake. They made love in the middle of the night, desperate to keep the future at bay for a little while longer. Five years had never been enough.
Six months later, he had a similar dream. Jecht again, but this time he let Auron respond to his questions.
"So, how's my boy doin' now?" Jecht asked.
"He made your old team six months ago. They say he's a rising star, the 'new hope of Blitzball' according to one of the announcers."
"Good, good. I wanted him to get the 'view from the top'. I wish it could be for longer. He's got six more months to enjoy it." Suddenly, there was an edge to Jecht's voice, "And you've got six more months to enjoy, well, whatever it is you're doin', too." Jecht was laughing, laughing at him, and his laughter echoed in Auron's mind as he sat up in bed with a start. Mercy was awake, too, since Auron had taken all the covers when he woke. "What is it, love?" she asked, groggily, as she started to pull the blankets back.
Auron's voice was a flat monotone when he responded, torn between rage and fear, and unwilling to show either. "We have six months left."
"I know, I've been keeping track, she admitted sleepily, "but that's not what's bothering you right now."
"I had a dream, just now. I saw Jecht. He knows about you. Sin knows about you. About us."
She sat up, wrapped her arms around his waist, tucked her head into the hollow of his shoulder. "What do you think it means?"
He rested his cheek against her hair. Close like this, he couldn't hide his emotions, so he stopped trying. He held her, the tightness of his hold conveying his fear for her. "You will be a target when Sin comes. He doesn't know you personally, so I doubt he will be able to find you in a crowd, but he knows where I was tonight, so this building will be destroyed. If we are together when Sin takes me, he will know for certain who you are; you will die an unclean death, and not reach the Farplane." He paused. "Damn Jecht," he said with vehemence, after a minute.
"What was that last bit about?" Mercy was a little confused.
"When he told me he knew about us, he was laughing at me. I'm not sure if it was Sin, or if it was the old Jecht. It could have been either one. Damn Jecht," he muttered.
This was just a male ego problem now, Mercy thought, wondering how often Braska must have wanted to knock those two heads together on that pilgrimage. Not that it would have done any good. She would have bet a lot of gil that Jecht's head was just as hard as Auron's could be.
They only had six months left. It was stupid to waste a second of that time over this sort of nonsense. She could think of one way to bring him back to the present and soothe his wounded pride at the same time. She unclasped her hands from around his waist, letting her arm around his back fall until her hand rested on his hip. Her right hand trailed across his chest, at first tracing idle patterns, eventually following the line of hair down the center. By the time she reached the hard, flat planes of his abs, she had his complete attention. They didn't waste much of the rest of the night sleeping, either.
Three months later, another dream. They had made plans for this, now they set them in motion. Mercy quit her 'day job', as she had always called it. Auron closed the dojo, but kept the space rented. They had enough money to take care of every material thing they needed, or even wanted, and time was more precious than money, so, why continue to bother? Auron felt the need to train for the pilgrimage, as much as was possible in Zanarkand. The dojo had kept him in shape, but teaching had not required the same mental preparation and physical discipline as having your life and the lives of your summoner and your fellow guardians depend upon your skills. Auron was not sure he was as prepared as he should be for this journey. Mercy didn't have a problem with this, not at all. There was no reason for him to train alone that she could see, after all, there would be other guardians on the pilgrimage, wouldn't there? She needed to come back to town on weekends, so she could practice and perform with Dafydd, and they needed to spend some time with Tidus, but she could train with him. She was quite capable of defending herself with her swords, as he was well aware.
It worked. It worked entirely too well. For three months, they spent half the week hiking in the hills outside the city, hunting down whatever they could find…beasts, monsters, the occasional fiend. They camped wherever they found a good place, setting up two bedrolls next to a stream, or even a lake if they were very lucky. As they walked through the woods, he looked at the woman by his side. She had fallen in on his right, covering his blind side. This was how they fought, and slept. When they began this routine, he had simply taken his Spiran clothes out of the closet, what Mercy called his "traveling" clothes, and put them back on. He knew she hated them, as a reminder that he would be leaving soon, but it was necessary. She had adapted something of her own, black leggings, the black tunic of a gi, belted with a wide crimson cloth that wrapped around her midriff, her swords stuck through the makeshift belt for a cross draw. He had at first thought her thigh-high black boots an affectation, until he noticed that she had a throwing knife within easy reach in the top of each boot.
They fought well together. As the days passed, he found it more and more difficult to imagine leaving her behind, but he knew that he would have to. It was ironic, that, as their time together drew to a close, they became, if possible, closer than they had ever been, spending every waking moment together. He had lived in her world for the past ten years, five of them with her, and those five had been the happiest years of his life. Now, she was showing him that she could live in his world, she could make the transition, if only there were a way to get her there, but there wasn't one that he could see. They both knew that she had dreamed true, five years ago. If he tried to take her to Spira, when he and Tidus went, Jecht would tear her to pieces, make an example of her just to hurt them both. She had to remain behind, either to run to the hills to escape the devastation, or to remain in the city, accept the destruction, and try to reach the Farplane.
She had insisted that they come back to the city on weekends, so that she could practice with Dafydd, and perform, and so that they could see Tidus. She had told Dafydd the truth about Auron long ago, so that he and his lover could make their own decisions about the future. When the time came, Dafydd and Marko, his partner, were planning to go up into the hills a couple of days before Sin came, to get out of the way of its attack. They knew that if Auron and Tidus did find a permanent solution to Sin, the dream Zanarkand would eventually fade, but it was the best they could do. In the meantime, she wanted to continue to sing, and, since she had lost the arguments, plural, and Tidus was not to know anything about Spira, they needed to see him regularly. They both just told him they were taking a long vacation from their jobs, and he was so caught up in his Blitz world that he didn't pay much attention to what the adults were doing, as long as it didn't embarrass him somehow.
The dreams came more frequently as the time grew shorter. Two months, six weeks, one month, three weeks. When they had only two weeks left, Jecht came to Auron in yet another dream. It was a Saturday night; they were in the city for the weekend.
"I've decided. I want it to be at the Stadium. Has the kid got a game two weeks from tonight?"
"I don't know."
"You're supposed to know. You're supposed to be keeping an eye on the kid. Or are you too busy?" Jecht was angry; Auron could hear it in his voice.
"He's 17 now. He doesn't need a nursemaid, or a babysitter, anymore." Auron kept his tone flat, unemotional.
"Lucky for you, I still think he does. Meantime, you better memorize that schedule." Jecht was laughing now, a harsh, bullying kind of laugh.
Auron woke, cursing. Then he got out of bed to look up the Blitz schedule. He was still hopeless with machina, and Mercy ended up finding the answer, the Jecht Memorial Cup, in 16, no, now 15, days. Monday evening, two weeks from tomorrow night. Their five years had come down to two weeks. The screen had gone black, and their eyes met in the reflection. Although she tried to stop them, tears spilled down her face. He bent, and lifted her easily in his arms, hers around his neck as he carried her back to their bed. For the rest of the night, they were able to help each other to forget what the screen had showed them, how little time they had left together. A week later, in another dream of the nightmare Zanarkand, Jecht asked Auron for the schedule. The idea of using the night of his own memorial cup appealed to his ego. The date was set.
They stayed in town that week. They stayed together. He had kept the dojo, so they used it for training. They wandered the city, storing up memories. They made love. She tried to convince him, one last time, that he would be free, in Spira, to find comfort, if he could, with someone else. He responded, as he always had, that he would do no such thing. And that before she went any further, that no, not even on the Farplane, not even if she did not reach it, and would she please stop! She kissed him instead. They had better things to do with the time remaining to them.
Mercy checked the Blitz schedule, and called Tidus on the 'link. She asked him to come to the club Saturday night, since he didn't have a game that night. At first he seemed reluctant, but it was all just an act he put on for her benefit. She so seldom asked him for stuff, he wouldn't turn her down. He always remembered that before she became part of his and Auron's life, whenever he needed a parent for school stuff, after his mom died, unless it was absolutely required, he mostly did without; he just didn't feel like asking his aunt and uncle. Things changed after Mercy was around. He tried not to think much about his feelings about her, but she was always there for him, and Auron was too. He had been before, but it was different after Mercy came. Before, Auron had been around if he something was wrong, and he'd always been available to give him a good swift kick if the old man thought he needed one, but he hadn't exactly been overly generous with congratulations or pats on the back if things were good. Mercy was there for him for the good things, the celebrations as well as the failures, and she made damn sure Auron was around for them too. If she wanted him to come to the show Saturday night, he'd come all right. His 'reluctance' was only for show. He didn't want it to make it seem too easy. After all, he had an image to maintain, now.
It was the last concert, although Tidus didn't know. When he slipped in, just before the first set, he saw Auron and Marko at a second row table, with a chair waiting for him. Neither man spoke to him, as the manager came on stage immediately after he arrived to introduce Mercy and Dafydd.
Since they knew this was the last hurrah, they had decided to perform all of their own favorites. Mercy just had two songs in the second set that she had prepared for this night. The rest would be the old standbys. They opened, as the often did, with "Anticipation", and went through a lot of their usual numbers for the first hour. At the set break, they came down to the table, instead of retreating to the Green Room. There was a lot of emotion amongst all the adults, but Tidus didn't really catch it. Watching Mercy with Auron, he had the craziest idea, when I finally meet someone, I want what they have.
Mercy was trying to keep it together until the show was over. No, until after Tidus left, she thought to herself. I can't let go until then. The second set opened with "Fire Down Below", "Slow Hand", and "All I Want is You". They sang their hearts out, each song a gift to the audience. It was near the end, now. Dafydd struck up the chords to an old rock and roll song, "Hurts So Good". It was about someone older in love with someone younger than they were. As Tidus heard Mercy sing, he thought she was singing about herself and Auron, as she often did, since she was ten years older, but people either never noticed, or forgot, but as she sang,
You don´t have to be so excitin´
just tryin´ to give myself a little bit of fun, yeah
You always look so invitin´
you ain´t as green as you are young…
she looked straight at him, Tidus, and winked, and he had the sudden, sinking realization that she had known all along that he had a crush on her, and that this was her way of telling him that she knew. He blushed scarlet to the roots of his hair. He wondered if that meant that Auron knew, too, but he was way too embarrassed to look at the man. He just wanted sink through the floor. He didn't even hear the end of the song.
She thought that it would have been better if he'd had a chance to grow out of it naturally, but, in two days, he was going to get yanked out of this world and into another. Maybe it would help him to get over it if he knew that she knew. She hoped so. She'd tried. Maybe he'd remember the next message, eventually.
The machina began the next song, in a minor key. It was a strange, sad song, she'd written specially for this one night. The first verse was for Tidus, telling him to let go, hoping that he would find someone some day:
Two kinds of people in this world
Winners... losers
I lost my power in this world
Cause I did not use it
So I go insane
Like I always do
And I call your name
She's a lot like you
Tidus heard the words, but they didn't really register. He wouldn't remember them until much, much later.
The second verse was for Auron:
Two kinds of trouble in this world
Living... dying
I lost my power in this world
And the rumors are flying
So I go insane
Like I always do
And I call your name
She's a lot like you
One last time, she offered him his freedom. She watched him as she sang, and he understood her message. He shook his head, and mouthed the word, "No," over and over again. She bowed her head in acknowledgement of his answer. She would not ask again.
They closed, as always, with "Seven Wonders", but when the performance was over, only Dafydd, Auron and Marko caught that she said "Goodbye" to the audience, instead of her usual "Goodnight". They were done.
They all went to the Green Room, but Tidus wanted to get away as fast as possible. He was embarrassed down to his toes, and he just wanted to leave. As soon as the five of them were all alone, he said to Mercy, "Look, I have an early practice in the morning, I have to get some sleep. Okay?"
"Sure. Goodnight, Tidus," Mercy said
"'Night, Everyone," Tidus replied in relief.
She let him get almost to the door. "Wait." Tidus stopped, waited for Mercy to reach him. She looked up into his eyes. She had been just slightly taller than he five years ago, now he was quite a bit taller. She couldn't stand it. She had to do something. She hugged him, tight as she could. He was stunned into immobility for several seconds, then he hugged her back, just as fiercely. Her face was buried in his shoulder. He heard her muffled voice whisper, "Love you." And all he could do was whisper, "Love you too," as his face turned bright red again. She let him go, and he fled in complete confusion. Mercy slowly dropped to the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, her face in her hands, weeping. He would never know. However confused Tidus' feelings for her might be, hers were clear. She had never wanted children of her own, but somehow, in these past five years, he had become the child of her heart. And she never expected to see him again. She could only hope that someday, somewhere, he would understand.
She finally looked up from the floor, to find Auron and Dafydd each offering a hand to help her up. She let them help her rise, these two men that she loved. There were still more goodbyes to be said this night, and quickly. Daf and Marko needed to get on the road.
Auron remembered Braska's words from the beginning of their pilgrimage, "Too many goodbyes, people think twice about leaving," and wondered how long this was going to take. Mercy looked to be near the breaking point, but he knew she was always stronger than she appeared.
It wouldn't take long. Everything that needed to be said, had already been said, she thought. Dafydd asked her, for the last time, "Are you sure you won't come with us?"
Tears were streaming down her face, and her brother's, but she shook her head. She had made her choice, long ago. She wouldn't change her mind now. Daf and Marko needed these last 48 hours to get as far up into the hills as they could, and she wouldn't let go of Auron one second before she had to. She would stay in the city with him. She accepted that it meant her death. She only hoped that it would be enough to work this 'trick', to reach this Farplane that Auron believed in.
She hugged Marko in farewell, as Dafydd and Auron shook hands. They said almost the exact same things to each other, as she asked Marko to "Take care of my brother," and Dafydd ordered Auron to "Take care of her." The answers were different. Marko promised Mercy, "I will," but Auron could only respond, "As long as I can," with great sadness. It was time for Mercy, and Dafydd, to condense most of a lifetime of shared joy, dreams, heartache and intense love into one last embrace. One last, "I love you." And let go.
She never remembered how Auron got her home. He just did it. Sitting on the couch, in their living room, drinking hot, sweet tea to recover from what felt like shock, even though she had known for five years that this would happen, was when she thought she came to terms with the idea that in two nights, Auron would leave, and return to Spira, and she would die. Next to the door, she saw his pack and his sword, bracer, glove, and glasses on the table. He would pick them up, put them on, as he left. But that would be later, not quite yet.
Most of those last two days and nights were not distinct in his memories. They didn't need to be. They spent most of the time in bed. They had an overwhelming need for each other, to store up images, sights, sounds, feelings, impressions, to imprint one upon the other. She wanted to be sure that she would live in his mind, his heart, while he was in Spira. He felt the same, he wanted her to have memories of him to carry with her to the Farplane, he truly believed she would reach it. She tried to sleep as little as possible, to spend as much time with him as she could, just in case the 'trick' didn't work, but sometimes, she had to. He would lie beside her, watching her sleep, wishing there was some way he could take her with him.
Monday afternoon, she'd been sleeping for about an hour. The clock showed there wasn't much time left. He was tempted to let her sleep, but she'd argue with him through eternity if he did. His hand cupped her breast as he kissed her into wakefulness. Her arms were around him, her body arched against his before she was completely conscious. They made love with a kind of tender desperation, knowing that it was the last time. Her climax pulled him with her, into a place of matchless beauty, and wonder, that he never expected to experience again. They drifted back to reality slowly, but then it was time for him to take a shower, and leave.
She simply decided to pretend it was just another hiking trip, at least for a little while longer, so they showered together, and, as he dressed in his "traveling" clothes, she put on her blacks, including her swords. If she had to die, she wasn't going to do it naked. She was too proud for that. They could both see through the bedroom windows that it was growing dark outside. He had to leave, soon. They held each other, but his armor already separated them. She looked up, her arms around his neck, as his hands spanned her waist. "My lady, I love you." He tried to smile, but his voice cracked.
"I love you, too, Auron."
"But…Mercy…I have to go." His words fell like lead.
"I know, love, I know."
"It is time. Or I do not know if I will be able to manage. I am…sorry, my lady."
"I understand." She almost couldn't speak past the lump in her throat. She didn't want his last memory of her to be of her tears, but she didn't think she could hold on much longer, either. She whispered, "Go."
"Farewell," he replied, hoarsely, then he practically stumbled from the room to the front door. He faced away from her as he clipped the bracer on his left arm, pulled the glove on his right hand, hefted his sword to his shoulder, and looped the pack through his arm. She watched from where he had left her, standing by their bed. With his dark glasses in his hand, he cast her one, last agonized glance, then he turned, and was gone.
She flew to the window, and stared down into the street below. From 20 stories up, she wasn't sure if she saw him stride through the crowd a few minutes later or not. She wanted to think that she did. Then she stared out into the night, and she saw the tsunami racing toward the city. It seemed to be closing in on her building, even as she watched, firing projectiles as it advanced. She knew it would kill her, she accepted that. But was it enough? she wondered. Aloud, she cried, "I wish there was another way." Behind her, in the darkened room, she heard the sound of fingers snapping.
On the streets of Zanarkand, Auron headed for the Stadium. As he walked, he looked down, trying to see where he was putting his feet. His eye caught the flash of his wedding ring. He stopped in his tracks as the emotional overload hit him. Someone walking behind him bumped into him, apologized, went around as he remained rooted in place. He spotted a bench, and dropped heavily onto the seat, nearly doubled over in agony. Five years ago, he had worried about that he had nothing to offer her. Now, he had to go on without her. Ten years ago, he had thought there could be no greater pain than what he felt at Braska's death, and Jecht's fate. He was a fool twice over…at least. Maybe more. Much, much more. He started to get up, to turn back, but knew that he could not; he had to go on to the Stadium, to be there to take the boy to Spira. He fell back onto the bench. Hell. The boy would ask too many questions. This was going to be difficult enough without talking about it. He never wanted to talk about it. About her. Not to anyone. That pain would be too much to bear. He looked again at his wedding ring. He had given her his word that he would wear it, always. After a moment's hesitation, he ripped the fastenings of the glove on his right hand nearly tearing the glove in his haste. He twisted the ring from his left hand and jammed it on to his right, refastening the glove to conceal it. He buried his face in his hands for a long moment. Finally he stood, and resumed his rapid-paced journey through the city.
At the top of a concrete and metal pier overlooking the ocean, he raised his tokkuri in a salute to the oncoming tidal wave. "Hello old friend", he whispered to Jecht. Then he went to meet the man's son, to take him home.
…Spira…
Yuna was troubled, so she woke in the night, sat up in her bedroll, intending to think about how to proceed with the pilgrimage. As before, she looked at her sleeping companions, all close around her due to the lack of space within the confines of the Agency. Again, as she looked over her sleeping friends, she heard Sir Auron talking in his sleep. "Mercy, mercy," he repeated, but this time, as he searched with his right hand, she could see his hand clearly, as the ring caught the Agency lights. So did the tears on his cheeks. He rose up suddenly, burying his face in his hands. Yuna lay down quickly and turned away, hoping he would not be aware that she had seen his distress. Behind her closed eyelids, her mind pieced the puzzle together.
Auron lay back down, praying that no one had seen him except the watchful Kimahri. The Ronso had kept his other secrets; Auron expected he would keep this one as well.
End Chapter Eleven.