A/N: Hajan here. Sorry I lied. It's just that I got the urge to write while studying trighistoryenglishchemspanish and this had been swimming around in my head for a while. Also, it's not a one-shot, like I thought it would be. Still, I'm not planning to make it all long and drawn out. Probably 5 chapters at most, if not less. So, here's a maybe slightly AU take on a bit of Auron's past while on Yuna's pilgrimage. Auron is usually silent and nobody really knows what he's thinking. Well, this is what happens when he's alone and thinks. Even legendary guardians sometimes succumb to flashbacks.

Disclaimer: Yeah... don't own Auron or FFX, even when I pretend to... then again, who's to say I don't own Auron? There are only two universal truths after all: time and space. Yay for Kant and synthetic a priori statements! (what is left in my brain from Philosophy class)

"Spirans can not get the news right."

This is what Auron thinks. Silently, he curses whoever is responsible for reporting events to the rest of Spira. Normally, he wouldn't care, he never cares, but when it impedes the summoner's pilgrimage… Let's just say that Auron is about as happy as that kid in the corner at the three year old birthday parties trying to hide from the scary man/woman in the freaky clown/Barney-or-something-of-the-sort costume that all the other kiddies are glomping.

Everyone's after Lady Yuna and her guardians. They'll defy all the Yevonites in Spira if it means reaching the end of the pilgrimage. It makes thing just an eensy weensy bit harder when Guados and everyone else are breathing down your neck, not to mention all the fiends that want you dead too.

Auron sits in an empty room on the airship. He closes his eyes and gives a sigh. Polishing his katana, he looks at the blade. He sees a man staring back at him, tired and frayed. He seems as solid as a rock, but weather-beaten; everything he's been through crashes against him like the waves Sin makes as it swims in Spira's oceans. Another sigh, quieter this time, memories are starting to plague him. Auron puts down his sword and leans against the wall. He tilts his head back as he takes off his sunglasses and holds them in his hand. His story… his story ended ten years ago. Yet still, his story is told over and over and Spira got it wrong.

"And you'll become famous, no— legendary! And people will remember me as the lucky one, the girl who got the warrior monk. Spira will remember us forever." She looks at him, love shining out of her eyes. "Forever," she says softly.She laughs and twirls, a little too fast because she trips over her own feet and begins to fall. The sand rushes up to meet her and her eyes close as a reflex.

He catches her. He would never let her fall. He catches her and pulls her close, feeling her breath on his neck.

She laughs some more, breathing uneven. He's holding her close and she never wants him to let go. Eyes closed, she breathes in his smell, sweet and strong and something more.

"I'm the lucky one," he whispers into her ear. "You know that."

She looks up at him, smiling. She moves out of his embrace, but is still holding his hand. "I do know that." She lets go and crouches down, her hair falling down like curtains covering her face and hands.

He crouches down as well. "Perdera?" He moves aside several strands of hair so that he can see her face and he catches a glimpse of her eyes. They twinkle mischievously.

She splashes him with water and starts running. She knows he isn't one for romping around on the beach or silly chases across the sand. She also knows he would do anything for her.

He knows she knows all this and while he pretends to frown, eerily similar to the stoic look his face will later hold, a smile plays on his lips as he goes after her. Eventually, he catches up; he always does. He holds her again. He feels her place her face against the hollow between his neck and collarbone. He feels her arms wrap around his neck and he feels his own arms wrap around her waist.

Neither of them feel the pair of eyes gazing at them from far away, the pair of eyes that watched them frolic on the beach.

"Sir Auron?"

Auron opens his eyes and scowls. He stands up quickly, far faster than one would think for a man of his build. Maybe that last Haste Tidus cast hasn't worn off yet. His sword is slung over his shoulder and by the time whoever it is is looking for him comes into the room, he is the stern legendary guardian once more. Brief words are spoken, but they are enough. His memories have been pushed away, at least for now.

I hoped you all liked it. Next chapter will be up at some point. I really am trying hard to study for finals, but who knows? I might get bitten by the creativity bug again and write more. Reviews are awesome. Auron is totally astig. No, that's not Al Bhed, that's Tagalog.

-Hajan Rana