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 title of this chapter is from a song originally performed by Heart.
Auron had not known, but Mercy also had a dream that night. A woman appeared before her, clothed in blue robes either trimmed or lined with fur. The woman appeared to be in her mid-thirties, but it was difficult for Mercy to judge, as only the woman's face was visible. "Who are you?" Mercy asked.
"I am called Shiva," the woman stated. "You were right. If he had learned the lesson more easily, you would have met sooner." A sudden chill swept over Mercy, and she shivered.
"You are…one of the fayth?" Mercy inquired uncertainly.
"Yes," Shiva replied.
"I've seen you before, haven't I? I remember now. A flash of blue, out of the corner of my eye, the day I chose my apartment five years ago.
"That is correct."
"And again. When I moved in. There were places, spaces…you…encouraged is even too strong a word…suggested, perhaps…no, hinted…not even that…sort of a strong feeling, maybe…that it would be better for me to leave them empty…waiting."
"We hoped, but we were not certain," Shiva responded.
"You have let me find things, in the Archives, haven't you? Documents I've read once and never been able to find again. The map that Auron used to show me Spira…"
The fayth pursed her lips in a wry expression. "We wanted to prepare you. But we did not know that the wait would be so long, that he would prove so…obstinate." Shiva laughed, but the sound echoed like tinkling icicles.
Mercy cried out, "Lady, why have you done all this? And why have you revealed yourself to me now, and not before, or later? What happens now?" The last question was almost a wail.
"Child, I may not answer your first question, for it is not yet time. As for the second, the answer is within your reach. Your third question I may answer. What will come to pass from this point forward is based on your thoughts, your wishes, your actions."
"Mine?" Mercy sounded doubtful. "You are not manipulating events?"
"Hardly. We only…present choices, if it is possible, if the conditions have been met. We cannot and we must not force your choices upon you."
"Then you…open doors," Mercy breathed, in sudden understanding.
"Yes," Shiva replied, looking pleased, "but only you can walk through them."
"So, what happens now is what we make happen?" Mercy was still searching for confirmation.
"Yes." The fayth nodded.
"Until Sin comes." Mercy couldn't lose sight of the end of this journey. The next five years would be whatever they might make of them, and then, Auron would be gone.
"Even so," Shiva said quietly in answer.
Mercy spoke quietly now, almost to herself. "I've never had a relationship last two years, let alone five. It's ironic, isn't it, that this time, five years isn't going to be enough? But it wouldn't have mattered if we had met the day he arrived…and I don't believe either of us would have been ready for it then, anyway. And I don't think ten years would have been enough, either. This time, a lifetime wouldn't be enough."
Shiva gazed at Mercy unblinkingly for several seconds, studying her. "You see…truly. That is the first trial. We will meet again." Shiva snapped her fingers, and Mercy fell into a dreamless sleep for what remained of the night.
…
If the time we have is what we make of it, then what the hell am I doing in this stupid meeting? The thought crashed through Mercy's head Firstday afternoon, as the speaker droned on. This is meaningless, now. Admit it, it was always meaningless, it's just that now I'm aware of how totally absurd this all is. This is crazy; I shouldn't be wasting time on this nonsense. I have to get out of here and think! She excused herself hurriedly, pleading a headache, and escaped from the room. She knew she had left a room full of gossiping 'old biddies' behind her, all wondering if her sudden 'headache' had anything to do with her recently fascinating personal life, and she knew that she didn't care. She suppressed a smirk as she walked towards her office. Those old biddies aren't that old, and most of the gossip is pure envy. I've heard some of the giggling and tittering about my relationship with Auron, or, just the speculation about Auron. I think most of the women…and a few of the men…really want to know if there any more like him around.
She reached the sanctuary of her office, entered, and closed the door firmly behind her, hearing a satisfying click as the lock snicked into place. Alone at last, she sighed, as she relaxed in the comfortable chair behind her desk. She sat back and recalled the dream from two nights previously, the one that had been simmering in the back of her mind all of Sennight's End. Why didn't it bother me until now, she wondered. For two days, I've had it in the back of my mind, but it didn't really jump out at me. And then today…POW! She massaged her temples. The headache hadn't been a complete fabrication. Mercy tried to remember everything that she had done over the past couple of days, and she smiled to herself as the happy memories drifted through her mind. There is nothing that I did over the 'End that I wouldn't have done, nothing that happened that I would change, she decided, except possibly finding a way to stop Tidus' mouth a little more often, she thought sarcastically, but still fondly. I spent time with the people I love; doing the things that feed my soul. I didn't waste a second.
But this, her eyes scanned the papers on the top of her desk, the insistent 'message waiting' light blinking on her 'link, and the screen on her office comp, why am I still doing this? In five years, it will all be in ruins. I may be dead. I certainly won't give a damn, one way or another. Why continue to play the office politics game? She stood and walked to the window, and then she searched the city skyline, as though she were trying to find an answer among the tall buildings. What would I do instead? I'm just not the type to sit around and be a 'lady of leisure' for the next five years. I'd go nuts. Besides, I don't think I have enough money saved up for that. I could quit here and help Auron teach. She tapped her fingers together and thought about that seriously for a few seconds, then she started to laugh softly to herself. Oh, no. I can just see us living out of each other's pockets like that. Two really intense, passionate, temperamental, opinionated, strong-willed people…armed both with smart mouths and sharp, pointed objects. We'd have twice as many chances to hurt each other as the average couple. No, thank you. She shook her head and moved back to her desk. But what does it all mean? It means…I stay here, but with a difference. This isn't a career anymore, because I'm sure not ambitious anymore. This is just a job, now. I want to stay in this position, because there are very few people who can 'look over my shoulder'. I like the freedom that gives me, so it's worth keeping. So, I need to do what's necessary to maintain my current position. No more late night meetings, unless they're absolutely required. No more special projects. No need to volunteer for extra assignments, just to make myself 'look good'. And I need to get myself out of that damn Fourthnight rotation. I'll just come in late after our mid-Sennight gigs and take vacation time for the time off. The hell with it, I've got plenty of leave time to burn. My world is coming to an end in five years…anything that doesn't matter during the next five years, or won't matter after five years, or that isn't a joy for its own sake, just isn't worth doing.
Mercy's normal Firstday routine was to leave the office in time to bring some kind of takeout food to the dojo for Auron's short evening break. He'd learned that he had to at least try whatever she brought, to treat the different cuisines as another kind of adventure. In return, she agreed not to bring a second round of anything he truly couldn't stomach. Tonight, as she usually did, she assisted him with one class, a class of youngsters, then she went off into one corner for her own, more intense workout while he finished the last class of the evening. As they closed up the place for the night, she shared her afternoon's thoughts with him, now that she had had one last chance, and one last class of working with him, to confirm her earlier decisions.
He let her talk herself out, wind down really, as they walked home, while he tried to comprehend what she was telling him. He really only cared that she was happy with her decision, but he just didn't see the sense in this…compromise of hers. "If you no longer see the purpose in working there, why continue? We could work together. For some of the classes, you are a far better teacher than I. You have more patience," he said, acknowledging his own shortcomings ruefully.
"Actually, I don't have any more patience than you do. I just hide it better. But that's not the point." She sighed heavily. "We're just too competitive, love. We're both too used to being the one in charge. Whenever one of the little ones turns to me instead of you, you grind your teeth and clench your jaw, because you can't stand it that they look to me first. If we taught a class of teenagers, it would be the other way around, and it would drive me just as crazy. If we tried to work together, we'd probably kill each other inside of a month." She shook her head. "It's probably a good thing we can't have children." Mercy looked down at her feet, startled by the sudden pain she felt at the harsh reality of those few words. Then she lifted her face, stared straight ahead, almost unblinking, and continued, "Because they would be twice as stubborn and competitive as we are, and probably born fully armed into the bargain."
"You are probably right," he answered, his mind dwelling on her last surprising statement. She is correct…of course. We cannot have children. It is not even possible for me to father a child. I am not truly alive, not any longer. When it was possible, there was no woman I cared for enough to even begin to think…and now, even if it were possible, it would be…irresponsible. But I can picture them so clearly, playing on a beach, a boy and a girl, both dark… they would have to be… laughing and happy, flailing at each other with stubby little arms… and it hurts…so much… to know that they will never be.
They were silent the rest of the way, but when they reached the privacy of their own home, he saw the track of a tear that had run down her cheek. He folded her in his arms, gently, as though she were as fragile as spun glass, and held her that way for a long time. When she looked up at him again, her face was dry, although her eyes were still suspiciously bright. She reached up to touch his face with her fingers. "I love you, Auron," she said quietly, then she leaned over, and rested her forehead against his chest.
"My lady, I love you, too," he replied, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.
…
Mercy's decision had been an easy one to make, but it took nearly two months for her to extricate herself from her various over-commitments at the Archives. There was no shortage of people willing, and even eager to take her place on the various committees and task forces that she determined she no longer needed to waste precious time over. The hardest one to get off of her calendar was the Fourthnight public desk rotation, because the schedule was set several sennights in advance. But she had finally done it.
She actually felt almost guilty this first time, coming in at one in the afternoon, knowing she was leaving at five, taking a half day's leave time, or, at least she did until she opened up her appointments calendar. "What the hell is going on?" she cursed to herself. "This is so not what it looked like when I left yesterday." Her screen was blinking back at her, with this afternoon's half past one block filled in with red block capitals, "Emergency appointment with Archives Director. Please Acknowledge." As she stabbed the 'Acknowledge' button she asked herself, "Who the hell does he think he is anyway? Hauling me in for an 'emergency meeting' with one hour's notice," she continued muttering under her breath. "Lord Halle thinks he's the Director of the Archives, dummy. Your boss, remember? Calm down and think."
Mercy finally got control of her temper, and shut her mouth. That didn't keep the little hamsters from scurrying around in her brain, it just kept any of them from escaping into the open air, where someone might overhear them squeaking. What does 'Old Woodenface' want, I wonder? This can't be good news. If it was good news, he'd have his secretary call and ask when would be a convenient time for me to come up. Instead, he told Bette to make me available this afternoon. This must mean trouble. Mercy tried to recall the last few days of activity, then the last few weeks. I just don't get it. There hasn't been anything. This makes no sense.
Mercy checked with his Lordship's secretary, but Bette had no idea what the appointment was about either, so, at half past one precisely she presented herself at his Lordship's office. Lord Halle made her wait fifteen minutes before he deigned to see her. This is just not a good sign, Mercy decided.
Why do I always think, big office, small…man, whenever I come in here, Mercy thought, as she walked through the pretentious office to reach the Director's desk. It's such a beautiful office, all this wood and glass, and he has such a fantastic view from up here. But does anybody ever read the books in these bookcases? Do they even open, or are they just for show?
The office resembled its occupant. Lord Halle was a man in his mid-fifties, tall and distinguished looking, impressive at first glance, but after being in his company for a few minutes, most people realized that there was not much substance behind his polished veneer.
"Mercianne, correct?" he said, as he gestured her towards a seat.
"Yes, sir." I hope he's going to get straight to the point. The suspense is killing me.
"I see from your records that you have been with us for some time, now."
"Yes, milord." I see that your secretary pulled my personnel file. And you can read, how clever of you.
"You've done some excellent work."
"Thank you, sir." No wonder they call you 'Old Woodenface', you only seem to have one expression, and it's, well, pretty damn stiff.
"I'm disappointed to see such a fine record besmirched by such sordid extra-curricular activities."
Seriously, does anyone actually still use words like 'besmirched'? Aloud, "Pardon me, sir, but precisely what are activities are you referring to?" What the hell are you talking about? Buster, if you even think you want to talk about my personal life, you've got another think coming.
"This sphere recording." At which point, he pressed a few buttons, and a sphere player opened on his desk and began to play back a slightly grainy recording that Mercy instantly recognized. Oh bloody hell. The encore, that night at the open mic when everything happened. She tried to keep her expression neutral, as she watched herself seduce Auron in front of a packed audience. I really, really want a copy of this recording, since whoever did this made damn sure they caught Auron's face and body language. Lords and Ladies, the way he's sprawled in that chair…he must have been extremely… uncomfortable. Mercy suppressed a grin. Of course this recording is illegal, totally bootleg, but that's Daf's and my problem, and our lawyer's, not Old Woodenface's or the Archives', so what is he going on about, anyway? Lord Halle was playing the entire recording through, which seemed unnecessary, so she looked across the desk to see if he was waiting for some signal from her. The avid expression on his face as he watched the sphere made her feel a little sick. I don't know what part of this he is getting off on, and I really don't want to know, Mercy decided with disgust.
As soon as the playback was complete, Lord Halle turned to her. "You must understand, this kind of performance is not in keeping with the image that the Archives wishes to convey to the public. You cannot continue this sort of public display," he said, projecting extreme distaste as he gestured at the sphere player, "if you wish to maintain your position here at the Archives."
Mercy was completely floored. He must be out of his tiny mind, she thought. "Let me be sure I understand you. Are you telling me that you are requiring me to either give up my performing contracts or resign my position in the Archives?"
He was pleased that she saw things so clearly. "Yes, I am."
"On what grounds, sir? Please show me where it is stated in the personnel regulations that this is not permissible. I have been very careful over the years to always keep the Personnel Department fully informed of all my performing and songwriting contracts to ensure that no such questions would ever arise." Mercy was seething with bottled rage. This can't be happening, not now.
"The performance on this recording is simply not in keeping with the dignity of this institution. You must either cease such displays, or resign, or I will have you fired!" His voice was rising now, in fury.
Mercy's voice went cold with suppressed anger. "I do not believe that you have the right to force any such action. I will certainly be seeking legal counsel in this matter." She stalked out of his office before she exploded. It seemed like the wisest course of action. Definitely a much better idea than tearing his head off and sticking it on a pike, she fumed, and he's sure not worth spending the next few years in jail for. But it's such a pretty picture.
As soon as she reached her own office, Mercy shut the door and automatically started to pick up her communications 'link, but then realized that it would be a bad idea. Maybe I'm being overly paranoid, but it's way too easy to monitor internal communications. Right now, that stupid bastard is probably itching for a reason to fire me. But he just looked like he was just itchy, period, watching that recording.
She began pacing her office, trying to burn off some of her excess energy. Damn, I wish I could reach Auron, but he doesn't have a 'link. I just want to talk to him, just for a minute. Damn the man. He hates to use any machine he doesn't absolutely have to, except the wayfinders. I think he's practically in love with those. But I really need to talk with him, right now. I think, that for him, personal 'links just moved into the category of 'absolutely have to have', and I'll do whatever I have to tonight to make sure he sees things my way. Damn him. I can't reach him and it's all his fault and I need him.
She flung herself into her chair. Let's see, who else do I need to call? Daf was pretty much in the background on the sphere, but he still needs to know. I hate calling him at school, since I never know whether he's in a counseling session with a student or not. I'll wait 'til after four, he should be home by then. Lords and Ladies, Tidus. Auron is going to have to call Tidus tonight. Poor kid, he gets enough grief about being Jecht's boy. Sooner or later, some smartass punk is going to show him that sphere, just to see what kind of reaction they get. We need to warn him before that happens. What a mess.
Slightly calmer now, she pulled out her personal 'link and placed a call to her lawyer. The brief consultation confirmed what Mercy had suspected from the outset; that Lord Halle did not have any legal grounds for requiring her resignation or for dismissing her. That would not actually prevent him from firing her, and then leaving it to her to bring a suit of wrongful dismissal against him and the Archives in the civil courts. If that occurred, it would be nasty, messy, and expensive for all parties, but most especially for Mercy, since both the Archives and Lord Halle and his noble family had considerably deeper pockets than she did personally. But once she heard the likeliest grounds for eventual dismissal, Mercy knew what she would have to do. This is a very, very big mess, she realized, amending her earlier thought.
Now that she had decided, she had to explain it to Auron. "I do not understand. Why are you fighting this?" he asked in bewilderment that evening when she had finished her explanation.
She spoke quickly, urgently, trying to sway him with her conviction, if logic wouldn't do the job. "It's not the money, if that's what you're asking. I still don't think it would be the best idea for us to work together for the next five years, but I imagine we could find some way of not killing each other, if we had to. But, from what the lawyer told me, I can't quit now, because no one knows how the rules will be changed if I do. And anyway, I'm not a quitter, Auron. You know me better than that. If he really tries to fire me, the most likely legal grounds will be that I have a second job, any kind of second job. There are a lot of people at the Archives who moonlight. Most of them need those second jobs to pay the rent or put food on the table, for them they pay for the necessities, not luxuries. And they can't afford to fight. If I give in to him, those folks will have a really rough road for a while, maybe a long while, and they don't know how long it will be. I can afford this fight, and they can't, so, I'm fighting for them. Auron, now do you see?"
"Yes, I see." He saw that this was part of why he loved her so much. She would fight to protect others, even if she got hurt in the process.
While he was being agreeable, she decided to press on. "Will you please get a damn 'link?"
"Why?" he asked in resignation.
"Because I almost went crazy this afternoon. I needed you and I couldn't reach you." Now, finally, she let go and started to cry. After everything that had happened in this long, strange day, she let the reaction sweep over her. He pulled her into his arms and cradled her close. "Okay, I'll get a 'link." As he stroked her back, he wondered, why does she always have to go all the way to the damn wall before she admits she cannot do everything alone? Not that I am any different, he thought ruefully.
As soon as she calmed down, she got Auron to call Tidus. He told the boy to go into his room and close the door. As soon as Tidus was alone, Mercy got on the 'link, and explained that there was a bootleg recording of one of her concerts floating around and that she might be in trouble for it. "But why are you in trouble?" the boy asked in confusion.
"I'm not completely sure. I think my boss is a complete nutcase, mostly. But someone you know will eventually play it for you, I'm sure. I don't have a copy, or I would just give you one. The performance was, well," she blushed, "suggestive, I guess, but the trouble isn't about the recording, it's about the fact that I might get fired, and if I do, it will probably be rather messy. I just wanted you to know in advance, that's all. To warn you, I guess."
"Why warn me?" the boy asked.
"I didn't want you to be blindsided. That's what friends are for. I'll explain the rest of it on when we see you, but I just didn't want you to be surprised. Okay?"
Friends, huh? Tidus thought, but what he said was, "Okay."
…
The crowd at both the clubs they played in that weekend had clearly heard or seen something, if not the actual recording, then at least the gossip. In the entertainment business, there was almost no such thing as bad publicity, so Mercy and Dafydd were happy to capitalize on whatever interest was generated. Daf hadn't been worried about the sphere for himself, just for her. He had been very much in the background fuzz on the recording. He could only hope the whole mess didn't cause her too much trouble at her regular job.
Tidus had seen the recording before he saw Auron and Mercy over the Sennight's End. He had found the whole performance disturbing on a number of levels, but he tried very hard not to show it. Without the warning, it would have been impossible. The kid who showed him the recording was not a friend, and had been looking for him to react badly. Just because he had a crush on Mercy, didn't mean he wanted anyone to know about it, ever.
…
A sennight passed in something like normalcy. A few people at work avoided her at first, fearing that whatever trouble she was in might be contagious, but as the days passed, and nothing happened, most people's behavior returned to normal. Mercy learned from Bette that a nearly endless parade of lawyers passed through Lord Halle's office, but that 'Old Woodenface' had not seemed pleased with the advice they gave him.
The following Sixthnight's concert was attended by an atypical group of 'guests'. At the table next to the one that Auron habitually occupied, a 'Reserved' sign was placed on the table before the club opened. Five minutes before Mercy's first set, a lady in her late seventies with a female attendant, and two of what could only be called bodyguards, were escorted to the 'Reserved' table with a great deal of fuss on the part of the manager. During the performance, Auron was rather disconcerted to find that he was as much under observation as Mercy and Dafydd. By the middle of the first set, he lost his willingness to tolerate the itch of being under almost constant scrutiny, and he turned to face the older woman, staring directly into her bright green eyes over the rim of his dark glasses. She continued to assess him coolly, while he struggled to outwardly maintain his composure, as he inwardly reeled with the shock of recognition. If Jenni had lived, he decided, or her mother perhaps, she would have looked much like this woman someday. But I knew many priests, and I saw portraits of several maesters, who did not have this woman's level of mastery and presence. I wonder how Kinoc is doing with my men these days? Enough of this. He changed position, crossing his legs so that his left knee was bent, and his right hand rested on his left ankle. A difficult position to rise from, but an easy one from which to reach the knife he kept sheathed in his left boot. The lady's bodyguards noticed as well, they became instantly more alert, he could tell from their stiffened posture. He drummed his fingers against his boot, staring the woman down, he hoped. Madame, I am not part of the performance. His glance flicked up to the stage. Turn your gaze to those who are. The woman inclined her head, regally. He flicked his eye up again, at her bodyguards. And call off your…dogs, he thought with finality, before I bite one. His attention fixed again on the woman. She studied his face thoroughly, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, then she turned and gestured to her 'attendants' to stand down, as she refocused her gaze upon the stage. Auron allowed himself an invisible sigh of relief. During the rest of the evening, he felt her gaze slide over him from time to time, but she never fixed on him again, and for that, he was grateful.
Mercy and Dafydd had also noticed the unusual group in the audience, but it didn't change any of their arrangements. They had already decided which numbers to do, including 'Slow Hand', figuring that as long as the bootleg recording was going around, people would want to see them perform the song in question. And it was a great night. Not only was the house packed, but also, the audience seemed to be eating and drinking up everything in sight. The manager looked like a very happy man. During the set break, while Mercy and Dafydd were in the back, Auron noticed that the lady at the next table had a 'discussion' with her entourage. There seemed to be a change in plans. Clearly, she was supposed to have left at the end of the first set, but she had decided to stay for the second set as well.
On Firstday morning, Mercy was astounded to discover that, instead of being fired herself, the Archives now had a new Director. Instead of Lord Halle, his mother, Lady Belina was now in charge of the Archives. And Lady Belina had requested that Mercy make an appointment to see her at Mercy's earliest convenience.
Mercy decided it would be convenient at ten in the morning, an hour later. When she arrived at Lady Belina's office, she was shown in immediately. Mercy was not totally surprised to discover that Lady Belina was her mystery audience member from Sixthnight, but she was still confused about the sudden change in the management of the Archives. The Lady graciously invited her to sit down. "You look puzzled, my dear," Lady Belina said.
"Yes, milady. Why were you were in the audience Sixthnight?"
"I wanted to see with what all the fuss was about. But we'll get back to that in a moment. First, I wish to apologize for my son's behavior. Your service to the Archives has been exemplary, and you are correct, there are no grounds to request your resignation or for your dismissal, nor are they desired or requested. And please, do not stop performing, your voice is lovely."
"Milady, I accept your apology. And, thank you. I'm just, well, surprised."
"My son is a fool, and several lawyers told him so. When he refused to listen, I asked him to step down as Head of the Archives. I came to see your performance because I wanted to see, and hear, for myself. I couldn't help but notice that you did the same song, but it wasn't the same, not at all. Why was it so different from the sphere recording?"
The question had really been a command, Mercy was well aware. She studied the older woman. Lady Belina was in her late seventies, Mercy knew that for a fact, but she was still straight, and still showed traces of the beauty she had been in her youth. She clearly still ruled her family, as well. But Mercy thought she saw a twinkle in the older woman's eye. She had a feeling that Lady Belina might have a pretty good idea of most of the answer already. Maybe she'd had a few nights like that herself, long ago.
Mercy began by talking about the performance. "Milady, all live performances are inherently unique. There's a kind of a…symbiosis, if you will, between the audience and the performer. They feed me energy, by watching, by listening, just by being there, for that matter. The happier they are, the more they get into the whole thing, the more energy they give me. And I give it right back to them when I sing. It's a feedback loop, and it can be either positive or negative, good energy or bad energy. That night, it was all good energy, positive feedback, and it just kept building. By the time that sphere started running, we had already done six songs, and everything was working for us that night. Everything had been working for us that whole week. After twenty years, we'd finally caught the lightning," Mercy's voice trailed off, as she realized that she had probably said too much.
"I'm sorry, my dear, but that last bit didn't make much sense. I understood you completely up until that point. What did you mean by 'caught the lightning'?" Lady Belina asked sympathetically.
"I'm the one who should be sorry, milady. It's an expression used sometimes in the arts, and probably in other fields as well. It refers to 'catching lightning in a bottle'; another way of saying finding a miracle and holding onto it. I believe that would be the best way of saying it. My brother and I have been performing together for more than twenty years, but when that recording was made, that week, something had changed. What we do is, I don't know, maybe eighty or ninety percent talent, but the rest is something else, partly ambition, partly inspiration, partly luck. Whatever it is, whatever makes up that wall that kept me from reaching that next level, I broke it that week." Mercy looked at the older woman, trying to ascertain if her audience was still following her train of thought. The lady was, as her next question made all too clear.
"Do you know why you were able to break through to your talent so suddenly after so many years?" Lady Belina probed.
Mercy smiled in answer. "I certainly do. And so do you, milady. Auron told me you were staring at him during most of the first set the other night."
"Please convey my apologies to your young man. Also let him know that he made my attendants very nervous," Lady Belina said with a slight chuckle.
"Milady, if Auron did not make them nervous, I would sincerely recommend that they be replaced. He should have made them extremely 'nervous'." Mercy's tone held both pride, and warning.
"However, I believe we were discussing your performance, Mercy. I received the impression that there was something special about that particular night. Or perhaps I was mistaken," the lady said in an inquiring tone.
How many of the answers do you already know? If half the stories about you are true…all of them, I would wager. But why is this so important to you? This is a test, isn't it? I just need to be honest, straightforward, and not mealy-mouthed. I have a feeling you won't go for that, will you, milady? Besides, after the performance I gave on that sphere, too much prissiness would itself seem like a lie. Start talking, girl. Now.
"Oh, yes, it was special. The sphere was recorded at an 'open mic', we performed there for love, not for money. When we came out we saw that there was a booking agent in the audience, a representative of one of the noble houses that owns several clubs where groups like ours are paid to perform. We knew that if we did well that night, there was a very good chance that we would be signed to a performing contract. By the time the recording started, we were pretty certain it was going to happen. It's quite a jolt to have a twenty year old dream come true, milady. My brother and I were pretty much on top of the world." Mercy's face was shining, reliving the moment.
"But that wasn't the essence of what was captured on the sphere that I saw", the lady prompted.
Mercy took a deep breath, let it out, and continued, "No, it wasn't, but it still fed into it, in a way. I was already pretty high. Milady, Daf and I had dreamed that dream for so long. Neither of us are children anymore. We tried to be realistic about the whole thing, and we both thought that this would never happen, we had convinced ourselves that we were content just to do the open mics. But suddenly, the thing we'd both hoped for since we were kids was right before our eyes, and we were both so excited we were about to burst with it. And then, Auron…" Mercy stopped completely, trying to find a circumspect way to describe their relationship, and knew there really wasn't one. Her face flushed.
As Mercy tried to gather her words together, Lady Belina prompted, "What about your young man?"
"I'm afraid that he just wanted to get me off that stage, and get me home. We'd known each other all of eight days by then." Mercy shook her head, a smile on her face as she looked into the older woman's eyes. "And against all reason, all common sense, we'd become lovers the night before, when we'd known each other a whole sennight." Mercy closed her eyes a second, remembering that feeling of incandescence, seeing how it appeared on the recording, and continued in an amused tone, "Unfortunately, Auron isn't very patient, and he doesn't remember song titles very well. Daf and I were so surprised, we just weren't prepared to do another song, and the crowd wasn't helping. Auron could only think of two song titles, and one of them was the song we had just finished before the crowd started shouting for an encore, so he called for the other one. I had sung it to him the night before as a question, and that is why he remembered it. In the mood I was in, I was perfectly willing to tell the entire audience what answer I had received. The result was what you saw on the sphere." Mercy met the older woman's gaze steadily as she finished speaking with, "I may sing that song a thousand more times, but no night will ever be like that one."
Lady Belina said, "Thank you, Mercy, for sharing that with me. For a moment, you reminded me of my own youth." She waited several seconds before she continued, letting them both return to the present. "Before you go, I would ask you, what might I do to make up to you, let us say, for any anxiety that my son may have caused you?"
Mercy took the time to appreciate the irony of the situation. She looked out the windows of the office, and thought of all the times she had wondered what it would be like to be promoted to one of the Executive Administrator positions. Right this minute, she could have one of those positions for the asking, and she no longer wanted one. Or anything else that Lady Belina had within her considerable power to grant. The only thing we want is more time, and Lady Belina doesn't have that kind of power. "I thank you for your generous offer, milady, but your apology is all that is necessary."
"If you are certain…" the lady replied, pleased but astonished by her refusal.
"I am, milady. Thank you very much for your time." Mercy left Lady Belina's office easier in her mind than she had been for over a week. I don't regret not taking her up on her offer, Mercy thought. Well, not much, anyway. The promotion certainly isn't tempting anymore, that's for sure. It's possible that she could have 'arranged' for Auron's dojo to become a popular activity for the children of the nobility, but I do not believe that is what he would want, or at least, I hope not. I bet she has connections that could have arranged for a recording contract, or more concerts. Now that is a tempting thought. I wish…I wish that were possible. But either, or both, would just have taken up more of my time, and that's already in too short a supply. Right now, we have a kind of balance, Auron and I. We have enough time apart so that we do not get on each other's nerves, but we have a lot of time together as well. It works for us. I would hate to do something to mess it up. What we have is so precious, I think because we had both given up hope of ever finding anything like what we have with each other, but we each also refused to settle for second best. We're both old enough to know the value of what we have… and still young enough to enjoy it. In spite of everything, we're very lucky, she realized.
On her way back to her office, suddenly, everything and everyone in the world stopped except for herself, and the woman in the blue robes appeared before her again.
"Willingness to fight on behalf of others. Refusal of desired rewards freely offered. You have passed the second trial." Shiva's voice rang in the suddenly chill air. Mercy shivered.
"You have done well, child. Better than we hoped." The fayth paused. "We will meet again." Shiva snapped her fingers, and the world around Mercy returned to normal.
End Chapter Sixteen