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 "Desperado" was written by Glenn Frey and Don Henley, performed by the Eagles. "Your Song" was written by Elton John and Bernie Taupin, and performed by Elton John. The chapter title is from a song written by Leon Russell, originally performed by the Carpenters.

Carefully balancing his weight against the side of the suspended jail cell, trying to keep the damn thing from rocking too much as a result of Tidus' occasional bouts of restless pacing. Auron remembered the first time he had toured this level, during his early days as a trainee among the warrior monks of the temple. This was one of the few parts of the Palace where I could not hear the Hymn, either being sung or practiced, so I asked the instructor why this was so. He told me that prisoners who had been condemned to these cells were beyond redemption, and did not deserve the comfort of the Hymn. I am certain this means that Seymour and Kinoc have already decided our fate. I do not think I care if I ever hear the Hymn again. But, I believe I would sacrifice my soul, if I could hear my lady sing, just once more.

…Zanarkand…five years ago

The night before, Mercy had told Auron that she would go to Dafydd's house the next evening when she finished work. It was their regular night to practice, but, since this was the first time they had ever needed to decide on almost two full hours of music, two full sets as she had called it, she had expected to be there until quite late. She had provided him with the location of Dafydd's residence, and a way of contacting her if he wished, but it had been clear that this was a commitment that she must keep. He had commitments of his own; he had classes that he needed to teach that evening as well. It was not even necessary for him to concern himself with her safety on her way home, as Auron was certain that her brother would see to that himself, no matter how late the hour. All through the day, his thoughts kept drifting back to the lonely night ahead. There is nothing upstairs except an empty bed. An empty life. Why did I never notice before? But what am I supposed to do? I cannot wait outside her building until she returns. But I can't get in without her keys and…entry codes. I must remedy that…soon. She gave me directions to her brother's…why? Did she hope that I would just…what…show up? Why are women such a mystery? His continued confusion made for a very trying day.

Mercy had arrived at Dafydd's townhouse, as she usually did, just in time for dinner with her brother and his domestic partner, Marko. She hugged Marko when she found him in the kitchen, and was grateful to see that he was doing the cooking this evening. She was too nervous to eat much, but she would still rather nibble on Marko's cooking than Daf's, any day. She sat on a barstool to watch for a few minutes, as they all chatted a bit about the past few days' worth of gossip. It's so good to see how happy they are, she thought, watching as the taller, and much fairer Marko automatically reached over her brother for the 'good' glasses on the top shelf, seeing them smile at each other without a word being exchanged. Sometimes, nice guys come in first…for a little while. Her smile slipped for a second, but then Daf handed her a glass of wine, and she raised it to him in a salute.

Marko spent part of dinner quizzing her about 'the new man in her life', as he called Auron. He had made a rule after he and Dafydd had moved in together that they were not permitted to discuss their music at the table, after one memorable meal where he had not heard a single other topic discussed for three solid hours. So, every other subject was fair game. But neither Mercy nor Dafydd did this particular meal, or the dinnertime conversation, justice. They were both too eager to begin the much anticipated but potentially nerve-wracking process of deciding what they should sing for two complete sets on the following night.

Much earlier than usual, Mercy and Dafydd made a strategic withdrawal to his music room, where he kept several guitars, a couple of keyboards, and two of the instrumentation machines, the one they used in performances plus a spare for emergences. Daf sat with his favorite guitar in his lap, while Mercy perched behind one of the keyboards, as they started trying to figure out how they were actually going to do this thing.

"Sis, can you start off with 'Anticipation'? It seems to work."
"Sure, if we can end with 'Seven Wonders'?"
"I knew you were going to say that, sis."
Mercy's brain started to hurt, as the silence dragged out after that. I've got no idea where we go from that. Now what? Now what? Now what? NOW WHAT?

She finally broke the silence. "Look, let's just pick which songs we're going to do, and worry about the order later. If we don't start deciding something soon, we're going to be here all night."
"So what? You got a hot date?"
"No, I gave up my hot date to be here with you, Hon, so let's get this show on the road."
"Okay, okay. Look, we haven't done, 'Don't Stop (Thinkin' About Tomorrow)' in a long time. Why don't we do that one again?"
Her mind went into a tailspin. No. Lords and Ladies, no. A happy song saying to think about tomorrow, because it will be here soon. Tomorrow will be here all too soon, and I don't want to think about it, because it won't be happy at all. No. Just no. "Daf, I don't want to do that one right now." Or ever, she thought.
"But why not?"
"It's just too soon for me to start pushing in that direction," she said tentatively.
"Oh, you mean Auron. You're worried about what he'll think. That he might think you're pushing him or something? I really don't think he'd take it that way."
"I'd just rather not do that song, okay?"
"If you say, so, sis, but I still think it's a good, upbeat number."

Daf, honey, I hate to do this to you, but I've got to get you off this one. "Well, if you want upbeat and catchy, we could do 'Hurt so Good'."
"No, Mercy, we will not do that song. You know why. I'm surprised you even bothered to ask."

Because it's past time for you to let this one go, Daf. It's okay. It's been okay. It was always okay. But I've stopped telling you, because you don't believe me. You've never believed me. It had all happened the winter that Dafydd was fifteen. It was the last winter that he had been too young to work during the school year, and it had been one of the worst winters that anyone could remember. The heating bills were eating them alive. Even with her job, the money they had saved from the previous summer, and the money she was taking out of the account she normally hoarded for her school tuition, they were barely scraping by. They kept the heat turned way down to save money, and shared a bed at night, burrowing together like animals to keep warm. They had been young, cold, lonely, and very scared. One night, desperate to keep warm, to feel safe, their need to comfort each other had started to become something else. They didn't get very far, no more than a few kisses, but far enough to frighten them both to their senses. They had stopped and both pretended to sleep instead. But Dafydd had always felt that he had hurt her, whether by starting or by stopping neither of them was ever sure. Over the next few days, she had turned inward, and the whole experience had morphed into a song about someone a little older, more experienced, in love, or at least in lust with someone younger. The song had been her first major sale, and the royalties had paid the damn heating bills. As she slipped out of the memory, she remembered what Auron had told her about Zanarkand, and wondered, if this city really is a damn dream, why couldn't they have dreamed up some better weather?

Mercy turned her eyes away from the pained expression on Dafydd's face, and glanced around the room. All these instruments, and we can't manage a single note. This is just so stupid. I've got to try, one more time. "You know something, Daf?"
"What?" he answered back, sullenly.
"Auron's only thirty."
"You're kidding, right?" He shook his head at the thought. "I mean, his face, with that scar, he sure looks a lot older."
"I know, but he's really just thirty." She held back a grin. He's thinking about it, he's thinking about it.
Dafydd met her eyes and slowly grinned at her. "Come on, sis. That's practically cradle robbing. Please tell me he wasn't that green," he teased.
"Not hardly," Mercy answered, laughing now at the memory of ordering Auron to take his boots off that first time. "But he still has a few things to learn."
"You planning on teaching him?" Daf asked, half joking and half serious.
"Hell, yes. If he'll let me." Her expression turned serious. "I love him. I already love him so much, it's scary."
Her brother opened his arms to her, and took her in for a long hug. "I know you do, sis." Daf sniffed. "Okay, we'll do the damn song."

Now that the heavy tension had eased, it was time for the real work of the evening to begin. They had to come up with enough numbers to fill two forty-five minute sets, and then determine the order they should perform them in. In other words, they needed to agree on twenty-four or twenty-five songs, and they had worked out exactly…three, so far, and it had taken them over an hour. This is so not working, Mercy thought. Why did I ever think we could do this? It usually takes us an hour just to hammer out six songs for an open mic!

By then end of the second hour, it felt like they had discussed everything she had ever written, and nearly every number they have performed in the last ten years. They had had to make more than a few compromises, but it was starting to sound like a lineup they could live with, or at least one they could try. But there was something that kept bothering Mercy, like an itch that she couldn't quite scratch. As they worked out the play list for the first set, she finally got a handle on what was bothering her about it.
"Daf, honey…" she began sweetly.
He interrupted, "Don't try to butter me up, sis. What are going to try to talk me into, this time?"
"Is Marko going to be in the audience tomorrow night?"
"Are you kidding? Our first paid gig? He knows how important this is to me. He wouldn't miss it for the world. But what does that have to do with your sweet talk?"
"Forty-five minutes is an awfully long set for me to sing lead, especially two of them, back to back. Don't you want to be a good partner and help me out?"
"What are you getting at?" Daf asked suspiciously.
"You should sing lead, just once each set. Just to give me a break. You've got a terrific voice, Daf, and we've got some beautiful material that would be so much better if you did it instead of me. You know it. Please," she coaxed.
"Merce, you're really pushing it. You know I hate to sing lead." He tried to sound firm, but she could tell he was wavering.
"Come on, Daf. You could do 'Your Song' in the middle of the first set. You wrote that for Marko. He would love it. And then 'Moondance' in the second set, that minimalist arrangement you do is so fantastic. This is our dream, it's time for you to take your turn in the spotlight."
He caved. "On one condition." He waited patiently until she nodded in agreement. "You have to do 'Slow Hand' in the second set. I want to see just how embarrassed that 'boyfriend' of yours can get. Deal?"
"Deal," she answered, as they shook hands on it. In her head, Mercy did a happy dance. Daf, solo, onstage, YES!

After more than two hours, they were able to start practicing the music they were going to perform the following night. When he heard the muffled strains of the music, Marko heaved a vast sigh of relief. The silence from the other side of the door had been driving him almost mad. The first hour had only been mildly nerve-wracking, but when it had stretched past a second hour, and continued into a third, he had wondered if the first sounds he would hear be breaking into song, or breaking musical instruments. He couldn't hear much through the door, but Marko knew that once they began practicing, the worst was generally over.

Across town, Auron finished up his last class, took a shower, dressed, and walked quickly from his dojo to Mercy's building, to see if she had returned. The machina at the entryway informed him that, "The resident in question does not answer," when he tried to reach her in her apartment. This was what he had expected to find, but it had been necessary to make the attempt, he reasoned. Then he turned, and gave himself over to the impulse that had been riding him the entire day. He sought out one of the 'wayfinder' machina, and asked for detailed directions to the address Mercy had given him. Twenty minutes later, he was standing across the street from what he hoped was Dafydd's house, trying to decide whether or not to knock on the door. After he noticed the curtains in the houses on either side twitch, he knew he had to knock on the door. It was either that, or get arrested. He knocked.

Marko was surprised to hear the rap on the door, and even more astonished to see the dark stranger in the doorway.
"Is Mercy here?" Auron asked uncertainly.
"Come in and listen for yourself," Marko replied.
Auron stepped inside and for a few minutes, the two men listened companionably. "That's an old, traditional song," Marko finally continued. "I haven't heard that one in years. Pardon me; I'm forgetting my manners. I'm Marko. Dafydd is my partner. You must be Auron."
"Yes."
They shook hands, and Marko motioned Auron to take a seat, then he looked at the clock and confided, "They were quiet until about half an hour ago, then the music finally broke out. By then, I was starting to worry."
"How much longer will this continue? It is already late." Auron asked.
"You might as well make yourself comfortable. They're going to be a while yet, I'm afraid," Marko replied with sympathy. He felt sorry for this fellow, if he would be responsible for helping Mercy deal with tomorrow morning. It was already going to be a short night, and Marko knew that Mercy was never on her best behavior first thing in the morning.

Auron was pacing the floor by the time the practice session ended, over an hour later. He had not been certain that it was the right thing to do, coming here and waiting for Mercy, but, once he had been welcomed into the house, he knew it was impossible for him to leave. But then the music coming from the room ceased, and his head came up, as he stared at the door, waiting impatiently for it to open. Dafydd emerged first, Mercy behind him, both talking quietly now, working out some final details. Her voice trailed off when she saw Auron standing there, and she blinked rapidly for a second, while he held his breath. Then she smiled so brightly, to Auron it seemed that her smile had lit up the entire room, and he knew for certain that this had been the right thing to do.

…

Mercy and Dafydd came onstage the next night, blinded at first by the glare of the lights, holding hands like a pair of lost children. Then with one, quick squeeze, they let each other go, and he began the opening bars for 'Anticipation', as they had hammered out the evening before, and they started the show. Her eyes adjusted as she sang, so she was able to spot Auron in the audience, sitting next to Marko. Some of the butterflies in her stomach finally settled down a little bit. As they ran through the early numbers she looked over the 'house', and saw that it was about two thirds full. This isn't so bad, she decided. Enough that they'll invite us back next week if we do okay, but not too many witnesses if we bomb.
After 'Anticipation', the next three songs were easy numbers. Fun and upbeat, but not much of a stretch for her voice. For the fifth, as they had planned, she heard the familiar notes drift from the machina, and she closed her eyes briefly, and saw the moment at the coffeehouse, when she had conjured up a dark stranger with this same song, and sang, "Desperado, why don't you come to your senses…"
When the song ended, she blew her dark stranger a kiss from the stage. Auron smiled back at her in return. Then she gestured to Dafydd, who stood up and pulled his guitar from around his neck, and Daf stepped into the spotlight, as Mercy stepped out of it and seated herself at a keyboard. The two shared a look, both of affection and encouragement, then he nodded, and she began to play, and the backup music started. For the first time, Dafydd sang lead. He focused on his lover's face, as his voice filled the room:

It's a little bit funny this feeling inside
I'm not one of those who can easily hide
I don't have much money but boy if I did
I'd buy a big house where we both could live

Mercy looked up at her brother, and couldn't help thinking; I remember how long it took you to write that song. You actually bought the house together, but the verse wouldn't scan that way. You sound so good, Daf. Why didn't I get you to do this sooner? Because I always thought I had plenty of time to convince you. Now I know better. Her smile faltered.

Auron studied Mercy's face, and saw written there the truth of what she had told him at the top of that tower, it was the music itself that she loved, not the limelight. She was clearly just as happy seeing her brother in the spotlight, as she had been to occupy it herself. Possibly even more so, Auron thought. He remembered her saying something about her brother wanting someone to 'hide behind'. It was obviously not necessary, as the man had an excellent singing voice, and the audience was definitely enjoying his performance. But Mercy had decided to press Dafydd into this. Why? Auron saw her smile slip, noted the momentary sadness in her eyes. It is because she knows now just how fleeting this is. I am sorry, my lady. He found himself calling to that voice he had heard, or maybe even praying, "Please let her reach the Farplane, please," but the voice did not answer.

…

Tidus had begged and pleaded to hear Mercy sing. Eventually Auron gave in, as it was the only he way he could see to get the boy to give him any peace. But the night he took the boy to see the performance, sitting across the table from him, Auron realized that it was almost like observing himself in some strange, time-distorted mirror. When Mercy appeared onstage, and started to sing, Auron watched in utter astonishment as the boy fell head over heels in love with her, just as he himself had done. I wonder if this is the first time he has ever felt anything like this. I wonder even more how he is going to handle it.
Through the rest of the performance he tried to keep tabs on the boy's face without appearing to take too much notice of him, a difficult task with only one good eye, but he managed. Auron saw Tidus follow the emotions in each song that Mercy sang, saw the boy wince as she sang a love song that was obviously directed at him. But with each passing minute, Tidus had better control of his facial expression, whatever his emotions might be. By the end of the first set, the kid had taken this impossible feeling and folded it up as tight as he could and hidden it away inside, clearly hoping that no one would ever notice it was there. You'll do, boy, Auron thought to himself. You'll do.

…Spira…Bevelle

Glancing down at the boy, no, the young man, Auron corrected himself, sitting at his feet; he reflected that it still painfully resembled seeing himself in the mirror. When Tidus broke into the fayth's chamber under the palace…his face when he first saw Yuna…saw that she was unharmed in spite of everything…so much love, so much pain...I believe I saw a man in that chamber, not a boy…but I could not bear to watch any longer. I know too well what he feels. But they are only seventeen…is it even possible that it is the same? If I had been able to make my way to Zanarkand at seventeen, and met Mercy, what would have happened? Auron suppressed a dry chuckle. Mercy would have been twenty-seven. She would have thought me a callow youth, and probably laughed in my face, if I had been lucky. Kicked my face in and knocked me on my ass for good measure, if I had been arrogant. At seventeen, I probably would have been. Fayth knows, I still was when I met Braska. But if I had heard her sing then, I would have fallen in love with her. As I still am. And I would have fallen just as hard, and just as fast, as I did at thirty. Maybe it is the same, after all. But is there a way to help them and still do what I came here to do? Perhaps, if Mercy were here, she would have a better answer than I.

Then Tidus stood and began to shake the bars of their cell again, impatiently yelling for the guards to let him out. No, he has not completely grown up, not yet. But Mercy would still be proud of him.

End Chapter Fourteen