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 written and performed by Bob Seger, particularly in reference to the lyrics at the end, "Ain't it funny how the night moves, when you just don't seem to have as much to lose?"

When they found the chocobo rental agent in the Calm Lands, she was reluctant to part with any chocobos, as she was in the process of replenishing her stock, and the ones she had were about half-trained, at best. It took some convincing, and not just with words, before they could have the mounts they needed to reach the hidden temple. Tidus found training the big birds to be a lot of fun, so when they reached the lost temple and found the challenge race outside, he was eager to test himself against this supposed 'champion chocobo'. Auron only let him try the race once before he herded them all inside the temple. Tidus beat the champion, but the prize was very strange. It was a cloudy looking mirror. He wasn't sure if it was good for anything, but he had won it fairly, so he planned on keeping it, just like he kept all his Blitzball trophies. They weren't actually good for anything either, but he still hung onto them. Until the old man dragged me to Spira, anyway.

Inside the temple, Belgemine related a little of the history of her home, Remiem Temple. They were all surprised to learn that she was an unsent, like Seymour, and Maester Mika. But Belgemine's purpose was to help Yuna, not to hinder or harm her or her friends. She wished to train her, as she had trained other summoners before her, by challenging her to an aeon duel. That was the purpose that had bound her to Spira. Any summoner who could not defeat Belgemine was not ready to take on Sin. Yuna battled Belgemine's aeons with her own, defeated each of them in its turn, and was rewarded for her efforts. After the last of the duels, Yuna had the distinct impression that Belgemine might not be through with her, not yet, but had no idea what that might mean. The party left the echoing temple. Yuna's training there was complete, for now.

Tidus had watched the duels with interest, but a part of his mind had been thinking about the chocobo race he had won. There were six chests on that racetrack. He had only been able to get three on his first attempt. He thought he could get them all, if he just had one more chance…

The minute they were outside the temple, Tidus said, "'Scuse me," sprinted for the challenger's chocobo, and mounted it before anyone had a chance to say anything. Most of the group smiled indulgently, then leaned over the rail to watch the race. Auron just groaned at the waste of time. Tidus reached the finish line in record time, having opened all the chests. He raised his arms over his head in triumph, a cheeky grin splitting his face. The reward didn't matter to him; it was the challenge that he savored. His prize was a parchment map, covered in completely illegible script. He thought at first that it was just some language from Spira that he couldn't read. But when he showed it to the others, he discovered that no one could read it. He still put it into his pack, but as he placed it on top of the strange mirror, the mirror reacted, it sort of, well, hummed. He got the mirror and the parchment out of his pack and held them together. The mirror hummed louder, but nothing else happened. He wondered what it all meant, as he wrapped the mirror in some of his clothes, so his backpack wouldn't hum the whole time he was carrying it. Weird, really weird, he decided.

As they traveled down the eastern edge of the Calm Lands by chocobo, they found a break in the rock wall. When they entered the narrow canyon, they discovered an old man, bemoaning his inability to open his prized combat arena, due to a lack of fiends for training purposes. Both Tidus and Wakka were all for helping the old guy out, but Auron stopped them, condemning the whole enterprise as, "A waste of time." If Auron heard Tidus mutter something like, "Killjoy," under his breath in Wakka's direction, or saw Wakka nod in reply, he made no sign.

They made camp near the exit to the Calm Lands, and Lulu found herself looking into the fire and contemplating…the future. It was clear to her that, unlike the two summoners she had guarded before, nothing would prevent Yuna from completing her pilgrimage. She has grown too strong to be stopped now, Lulu thought, unless she herself dies along the trail. And Sir Auron is too stern a taskmaster to allow her guardians to fail so in their duties. Lulu smiled enigmatically as she peered up through the curtain of her hair, and found both Sir Auron and Wakka sitting directly across the campfire from her, caught up in a heated discussion. Or rather, she realized as she watched the two men, it was clear that Wakka was doing most of the talking and all of the gesturing, while Sir Auron was kneeling stoically in place, his right arm over his upraised knee, and that Wakka's impassioned pleas were having little or no effect, to judge by the expression on his face, except perhaps to try his patience. She studied them in the firelight. Seeing them so close together, made it easy for her to compare the two men. Physically, they were much the same type. Both were big men, with powerful arms, broad shoulders and chests, but somewhat narrower through the waist and hips, with hard, flat stomachs and strong, heavily muscled thighs and calves. She found herself wishing for a cool breeze, as she tried to consider the two carefully, based on more than just their looks, however pleasing those might be. She forced herself to consider Wakka first, since she had known him all of her life, but it took conscious effort to tear her eyes away from Sir Auron, he had so much more…presence…that she found it difficult draw her attention away from him.

As she turned her concentration to the Blitzball captain, she instantly thought, Wakka is Chappu's brother, the thought coming to her as automatically as her next breath. But Chappu is dead, and Wakka and I are both still alive. But if Chappu had lived, by now, I would be Wakka's sister. A sarcastic voice inside her head retorted, if you believe that Wakka now feels towards you as a brother would feel, there is undoubtedly someone who will offer you a marvelous deal on a bridge over the Moonflow. She sighed. That is as may be, she reasoned, but what do I feel? It is only on this journey that Wakka has begun to emerge from Chappu's shadow…in my heart. Her eyes flicked upward for a moment, and she sighed. And possibly, only to fall under another's shadow. But I was trying to think about the future…my future. This party is so large, Yuna has brought so many guardians, that some of us will surely return to tell the tale. Wakka and I might both find ourselves living in Besaid again, when all this is over. Do I want us to be…more than we are now? I do not know. He is very dear to me, in his own way, even if his lack of…imagination…common sense…something…does make my head hurt at times. But if I try for more, I could lose him altogether. I do not believe I could face him…across that village square in Besaid, if we were intimate, and then…we were not. Or if I made a fool of myself by saying that I was interested in him as more than a friend, and he drew back from me in shame, or horror, or even worse, pity. Our friendship would never recover. And I do not think Wakka would respond to any subtle signals. The only ways I could be sure of gaining his attention would be telling him outright, with its potential for embarrassment and future awkwardness, attempting to seduce him, which would be even worse on both counts, or hitting him in the head with one of his own blitzballs, which might only serve to addle him further! Perhaps it would be best to save this whole idea for another evening. Yes, perhaps that would be best.

She gazed into the fire again, and caught snatches of the discussion that Wakka and Sir Auron were continuing on the other side of the flames. Wakka was still arguing that they should have agreed to assist the man who wanted to re-stock the old arena, that catching all the fiends in the Calm Lands would have been good training, and that it would have been, "The right thing to do," to help the old guy out. Sir Auron's side of the argument was typically laconic as far as Lulu could tell, consisting entirely of negative comments, mostly the single word, "No," but occasionally two words, "No time," or "Not necessary," and once she even heard him utter three words together, "Not our concern." Her eyes met his for a moment, and they exchanged a look, shared amusement at Wakka's continued thick-headedness. The unspoken communion warmed her more than it would have a few days previously, before Yuna had related the information about Sir Auron's lost wife.

Yevon, but he is handsome, Lulu thought. Not the classic features I saw in those spheres, that scar took care of that. But I find him even more appealing now; the scar makes him appear darker, and more dangerous, than he did ten years ago. Most women who meet him now must want to either embrace that danger, or hope they can light the darkness they see in his heart. Which do I want? There is already enough darkness in my own heart. Her thoughts paused a moment. Those spheres…ten years ago, he was filled with fire. Does he still burn? Is all that passion buried behind those stonewalls that he has erected around himself? I thought it was impossible for any woman to find out, but one apparently did. She breached those walls, and found the man inside. What was she like, his wife? I keep thinking of the phrase, 'sweetness and light, goodness and mercy', as though all those virtues must reside together. A woman who survived five years as Sir Auron's mate could not have truly embodied all those virtues…or possibly any. How did she manage to get inside his defenses? Can it be done again? Am I interested enough to make the attempt? While she had been thinking, Wakka had finally given up his argument as a lost cause, and had left to talk with Tidus, probably to ask him to make one last try to convince the older guardian. Auron stood up to stretch his legs, and Lulu studied his form for a long, pleasurable moment. Perhaps I am interested enough, she decided, then she hesitated. But I wish to think on this a bit longer. If Wakka does have feelings for me, pursuing Sir Auron could also cause problems. I think that this idea may also be best left alone…for now.

The evening following the battle with Lady Ginnem found Lulu feeling increasingly restless, so she prowled the confines of the plateau outside the Cavern of the Lost Fayth. Her thoughts were disturbed, even more agitated than her feet, as she recalled the day's events. I performed my last duty to my first summoner. My failure as a guardian is finally redeemed. I thought I would feel sadder, somehow. Wakka said I have grown stronger. I wonder if it is not because I have grown colder, instead. Am I stronger, or am I just becoming cold and dead inside? That…is what I fear. Tonight, I want to feel. I want to feel warm…and alive. I do not want to worry about…consequences. The morning always comes. I would like to let it…take care of itself, for once. She noticed Wakka sitting by the fire, watching her with concern. Dear Wakka, he would try to understand, but it would take me half the night to explain things to him, and there would definitely be…consequences. She stared up into the stars, and as she let her head fall, she saw Auron standing, alone and apart, on the opposite side of the plateau from where she paced, at the head of the narrow trail that skirted the edge of the gorge. Sir Auron is as alone as I, and, maybe, as in need of company, or comfort, as well. Perhaps, tonight, we can help each other to feel alive again. If there is any irony in that, so be it.

Auron merely wanted to be as far away from Yojimbo's cave as possible. He felt betrayed by this fayth, by his cryptic, and ultimately empty, promises. He knew that Yuna needed all the aeons in order to be considered worthy to receive the final one, but he wished that she could have let this one pass, if it were possible. The masked swordsman's words from five years ago ran through his mind, over and over, and he could not manage to escape them. He wasn't sure if he was a bigger fool then, or now. The fayth had been right about one thing. It had been sweet, indeed…very, very sweet. But who had neglected to play their part? Who?

She was coming. "Sir Auron, may I speak with you a moment?" Lulu asked him, arching her brow up into her hair. He silently gestured an invitation for her to go on "In private," she continued coolly.
He inclined his head to her, and they began to move down the narrow path, to the next place where they could comfortably stand together to talk.

He spied a rusty sword partially hidden in a niche between two stone pillars. Auron rested his own blade against the side of one of the pillars and idly reached for the hilt and began to pull the blade from the shadows that concealed it. As he drew it out, he discovered that it was the equal of one of his own katanas in length, and shrugged out of his coat to more easily take the blade's hilt in a two-handed grip, and hold the blade up in front of him. This must have been a fine weapon in its day, he mused. Its balance still seems true. I wonder how long it has been out here like this?
Men, Lulu thought, as she hissed out a breath in exasperation. They are so easily distracted. She tamped down her temper and called his name softly "Sir Auron," then, just, "Auron," drawing his attention immediately.
He turned to face her, suddenly alert, with his attention sharply focused on her, his eye narrowed at her over the rim of his glasses. What is this about? I do not care what they call me. The title is empty, and I know it, if they do not. But it must mean something that she has decided to get more 'personal'…something that she felt would require privacy to discuss…bloody hell, he fumed, as he came to an abrupt, and unwelcome, conclusion.
His back was to the pillars. She stepped forward, crowding into his space, so that the air was filled with her musky scent, so close that her skirts almost wrapped around his legs, her hands resting on his chest. Her voice was low and intimate, as she breathed; "We have both lost someone…very dear to us, because of Sin."
Auron's iron control slipped for just a moment. The word burst out before he could stop it. "How…?"
"Did I know? You talk in your sleep, sometimes. You must miss her very much," she went on, hoping for a response, but she saw that his eye was closed, and that his whole face was shuttered as if it were a mask.
Inside, his thoughts raced around, chasing each other through the dark recesses of his mind. Yes, I miss her. I wish the boy had kept his damn mouth shut. I miss her so much. I know he misses her, too. But I miss her so damn much…that it hurts.
Lulu searched his closed face, and saw agony momentarily cross his features. He is in so much pain…as am I. Maybe we can help each other…for a little while. "I believe that we could…comfort each other," she whispered.
His eye opened wide, staring straight ahead, in shock at the echoing memory of Mercy using those same words…" not if you might find comfort, at least, with someone else." He looked down at Lulu, intending to tell her to leave, to push her away, but his gaze was drawn down, and down into the creamy expanse of Lulu's over-ample and overexposed breasts. Memory superimposed over the present, Mercy standing in front of him, just this close, the deep vee of one of her performance tunics affording him a similar view, except that Mercy's charms weren't quite so overblown, and she had learned the value of leaving something to the imagination. His reaction was the same, past and present, instant, aching desire, but now overlaid with dark despair, and gnawing grief. His hands locked on her upper arms, and his breathing turned ragged. He tried to hang on to some kind of discipline, some shred of self-control. I do not need comfort. I desire oblivion. I desperately want a few minutes to pretend that Mercy is here, with me, now. That is the temptation. But I know I must not let her go on for another second…
She misread his reaction. She saw him staring at her breasts, and felt her own body's response, her nipples peaked inside her gown, poking into the fabric, begging to be touched. His grip on her arms, the hot rasp of his breath, excited her further. She saw his control fraying, and wanted it to break. Since he seemed to react more to physical sensations than words, she brought her hand up to touch his cheek. Automatically, his eye closed in response to the caress. He couldn't seem to stop himself. She took it as encouragement and leaned nearer still, slipping her right hand behind his neck as her left pulled his collar down. She pressed her lips to his, and his control shattered.

He grasped her and turned them, so that her back was against the pillar, pinned against by his weight. He took her mouth with bruising intensity, his tongue thrusting inside, as his hands roamed over her body, until he grabbed her ass in both hands and rocked his hips against hers. He kept his eye firmly closed, and tried desperately to deceive himself, to pretend that it was his wife he held in his arms, and not someone else, but everything about this woman was just…wrong, and he couldn't go on, no matter how much his body was clamoring for release. He suddenly put his hands back on Lulu's upper arms and pushed himself away from her, holding her at arm's length, staring at her face, and only her face, as his mask dropped back into place.
Lulu stared back at him, eyes glassy for several moments, breasts heaving, as she tried to compose herself and figure out what had just happened. I expected him to be strong, but I expected him to be gentle, too. Instead, he was rough, and I…am not even sure that I enjoyed it. But I am certain that he must have, if he had been any harder, he could have cut diamonds with it. But now, the way he is staring at me, I feel like a cheap whore. What went wrong? "Auron?" she finally just said his name again, softly, all her questions in the tone of her voice.
"This was wrong," he stated flatly.
"But you wanted it as much as I did," she protested weakly.
"Only because I tried to pretend that you were someone else. My wife. You resemble her…a little…somewhat…I should not have…this should not have happened," he stopped, then regained control over his words. "Enough," the single word sliced through the air like one of his swords.
"But, Auron…" she started to argue, her hand outstretched to touch him.
He backed away a step. "No. Do not touch me again." He was desperate now to keep his anger in check. The amount of self-disgust, and self-loathing he felt made bile rise into his throat. He wanted to retch. He needed to get the taste of her out of his mouth before he truly did lose control of his stomach. Without thinking, he raised his jug to his lips, took in a mouthful of liquor, rinsed out his mouth and spat into the ground behind him. The gesture was not calculated, but if he had known the effect it would have, he might have done it sooner.
You sanctimonious son of a shoopuf, Lulu steamed. Anger filled her, and she raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. The resounding crack of the blow helped to salve her wounded pride, at least a little. While the sound was still echoing off the cavern walls, she hissed, "You bastard." She was incoherent with rage. He stood and waited patiently for her to get her temper back under control. After the way he had just treated her, a slap was the least he deserved, and he knew it.

It took several seconds for her rage to die down, long seconds that passed while she stared at any spot she could see, except the guardian watching her warily. "This incident is not to be discussed," she stated, in a tone that clearly allowed for no debate. He nodded in agreement. He fervently wished that he could forget that this 'incident' had ever happened, he certainly had no intention of discussing it with anyone. "I'll be returning to camp now," she finished imperiously.
"Please do," he replied in a slightly mocking tone. "I will guard your passage from here."
Let's make sure this never happens again, he considered, as she took the first few steps back to camp. Her pace was slow and her posture seemed despondent as she moved away from him. While she was still well within hearing range, he took another pull from the tokkuri, and spat it out again, aiming for the rocks so she would be sure to hear and appreciate the waste of the good liquor. Predictably, she turned on him, her eyes flashing in anger. "Thunder," she shouted, and a flash split the night, striking the pillar beside him. He jumped. "You will regret this," she cried, before she turned on her heel and resumed her journey back to camp, her pace now a hip-swinging strut.
I already do regret it, he mused. But not in the way you meant, Lulu. I regret this incident ever happened. I regret that I ever gave in to temptation, even for an instant. I regret that you will resent or hate me, because I saw you in a moment of weakness. I only hope this does not cause difficulties for Yuna's pilgrimage. But you yourself did not tempt me, not at all. And you deserve better than that, and I hope someday you find it again. Look to Wakka, girl, for that, not to me. But… pretending you were Mercy…that was my great temptation. But I gave her my word, and I will keep it.
As he watched her retreat, he felt suddenly, and unaccountably, light-hearted, as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, or as though he had passed a great trial. He saw the smoke still rising from the top of the pillar Lulu had struck with her Thunder spell, and he began to chuckle softly to himself. There is a resemblance between them, but all the details were…off. That is why the pretense fell apart so quickly; I could not lie to myself that well. But I think that if I had told Lulu that I wasn't interested because her ass was too big, she would have used a Thundaga spell, and aimed for my heart, he let out a short bark of rueful laughter, or my balls.

The night was still and quiet now, and he let the peace of it cleanse his soul for a few minutes. Then, the silence was marred by the sound of a slight "thud" behind him, at the opposite end of the path from the campsite. Cautiously, he followed the path to its end, his katana over his shoulder. Where the path dead-ended there was a chest, dust still settling around it. This is unusual, he decided, as he carefully opened it. Inside, there was a crest, similar to ones they had already found. The runes incised in the metal named it 'Minerva'. He stowed the crest in his pack, and retrieved the rusty sword on his way back to the camp.

On the other side of Mt. Gagazet, a dark figure tumbled down, at the water's edge, into the ruins of Zanarkand.

End Chapter Twenty-One