Oh my! The reviews for the last chapter were fabulous (seriously, I was so flattered)! Thank you so much. So! Finally, some BaralaixRikku. Whew, this chapter took me a while, but it's a nice and long. Thanks for reading :)
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In These Walls
The Red City
The luster of the multicolored stone roofs of Bevelle glowed in the auroral magnificence of the sunlight. The large steeple of the main temple still rose high in the sky, and from the ship's view as they descended, the city itself looked like a red spider prostrated on the broken green land. However, it wasn't until Rikku set foot on the long pathway that she realized how much she actually disliked Bevelle with its gaudy buildings, its over-robed people, and its particular scent of limestone combined with the saltiness of the bay.
Everyone on the ship had been reluctant to let her off. At some point, she thought she might have to twist some arms or jump off the deck of the ship. The latter suggestion made Buddy relent, but not without another reproach.
"Are you sure?" Both his hands were on her shoulders, and Brother was pacing around the bridge and muttering nonsense behind her. Rikku rolled her eyes, and scowled.
"Yes! For the millionth time, I'm sure," she said, pulling away from his grip.
"You're not delirious? Because I don't want you to come and kick my ass, because I let you do something crazy," and then a whisper, "but listen, why are you going, really?"
"I'm not delirious." She smiled. Buddy's cynical way of worrying about her was always somewhat endearing. "And, I'll tell you once it's done, all right," she whispered back, and then raising her voice, she said, "Now let me off the goddamn ship, or you'll have to get a new, and most likely not free, mechanic to slave over your babies."
They finally descended on the city, and let her off on the long bridge. She watched the ship go with an uneasy instinctual warning that told her that maybe Buddy wasn't so wrong, and maybe she was delirious. She looked away form the city behind her, where the path led into the decaying Macalania woods. All she had to do was turn around, and it would be over. But she couldn't. If she couldn't face something as simple as wandering around Bevelle on her own, then there was no way she would make it in the Den of Woe. She faced north again, the stillness of dawn casting an ethereal and spectral shadow over it, which in the desert, she would have told herself she was headed for a mirage. The most alarming part was when she realized she barely recognized anything around her.
Everything was more alien to her than it had ever been before. As Macalania's soft greens and browns faded, the red of Bevelle only grew fiercer. Even the city gates were taller than she remembered—those majestic portals to a world that she had visited many times before, but never quite explored farther than the temple. She had never even been alone in Bevelle. She had been with the guardians and Yuna, and then with the Gullwings, and it was always on some mission, but she had come willingly by herself to enter that terrible temple and find the praetor. She didn't even know Baralai that well, so why would he even hand her the spheres? The answer came quick and indignantly to the front of her thoughts: because she defeated Vegnagun (okay, helped) and saved his life. It should be enough, she thought decidedly. To hell with him, if it wasn't. Why had they even given the spheres to him anyway? Safe-keeping? It was all nonsense.
Before Rikku could knock on the temple's doors, her stomach beckoned rather loudly for some food, and food always took precedence over everything else. At least, she assumed that it was hunger, and not her nerves and anxiety at the whole prospect of being alone in that place. After a deep breath, she entered through the second set of doors that led into the city that was now awakening with the morning sounds of traffic, businesses opening and the temple bells ringing. As she walked, the awkwardness of her appearance became evident to her. She definitely stood out as foreign with her sporty clothes and messy blonde hair. Everyone was so prim, so covered up and draping with fancy colorful silks. The few early birds wandering the streets muttered good morning to each other with a curt bow and just nodded briefly to her, some holding her in regard for a moment as if they recognized her, and others quickly looking away the minute they caught her eyes. Despite them, she held her gaze forward, but stared back at anyone who gave her a moment's consideration. She was highly uncomfortable, but she was not ready to be intimidated by anyone.
She guessed that was her mistake—she decided to stare back indiscriminately with a smile on her face, and had she known that would translate into an invitation to hit on her for the two boys approaching her, she would have definitely been more careful.
She heard them stop behind her, and turn around. She quickened her step, but they kept up fairly well. One of them was constantly muttering complaints to the other.
"What are you doing?" A hissing whisper, and then,
"What do you think?" the second voice answered.
"She's an Al Bhed," the hissing boy said.
"Don't be ridiculous, besides, she's hot."
"She's practically naked."
"Isn't it fabulous?" The second one chuckled. Rikku looked down on her to bare legs, the anger rising quickly in her, and she stopped immediately and turned on the two boys.
"I can hear you, you know," she muttered through clenched teeth. Hissing boy, the shorter of the two, instantly blushed, while the other one just smirked. Both of them were carrying a wrapped bundle of books, which probably made them seminary boys, and no older than fifteen.
"Oh, I'm sorry about that. You're not from around here, are you?" A sly smile followed the question. She wanted to smack him right there.
"No," she said with a jerky shake of the head.
"I could show you around the city, you know." He stepped closer toward her, and she placed her hand on her hip—on the dagger on her hip. He didn't take another step. "We just want to be friends. An Al Bhed would be interesting." The hissing short boy cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably at the sound of "Al Bhed."
"Oh, I don't think so," she turned back around and away from them. She felt his hand hovering to her shoulder, and she whipped around and grabbed him by the wrist. He stared at her wide-eyed, while the hissing boy shrank back. "Don't touch me."
The temple bells rang at that moment, and hissing boy jumped up, muttered something about being late for school. She let go of sly boy's wrist, and walked away as they headed in the opposite direction, but she was still in hearing range when he said,
"I think I'm in love."
"Oh Fayth." She groaned, and wished nothing else, but to eat, find Baralai, and get the hell out.
Rikku spotted a small bakery, actually open already, serving hot drinks and morning sandwiches, and she quickly went inside. She sat on the table the farthest from the window and faced the wall. She wanted the decency of privacy, if only for a moment.
"New to the city?" A woman holding a small menu approached her. Rikku simply stared. "I mean, you look kind of disturbed." Rikku chuckled nervously and thanked the woman for the menu. Gripping the small piece of cardboard in her hand, she sighed. The curves of the glossy black handwriting made the letters unrecognizable symbols. Without giving it a second glance, she placed the menu on the marble-top table and rubbed her face with her hands, attempting to ease her expression into something more relaxed, amicable, and, of course, less readable. But she couldn't avoid the feeling that had overcome her mind.
"Tidus was right. I do hate this city," she whispered to herself.
"Really? Is it that bad?" A male voice asked from behind her. She nearly jumped out her chair. "Oh, Yevon, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you like that."
Rikku whipped her head around to find tall and prim Praetor Baralai giving a short wave to her. This was bad news and good news. She would focus on the good news for now. It meant she didn't have to walk inside that temple's foggy labyrinth halls searching blindly for him, or worse, actually have to request to see him. But then again, maybe she couldn't ignore the bad news. The bad news was that she had completely made a fool of herself and was now blushing in front of the man, out of whom she would soon ask for a major favor, like she was some stupid hormonal girl. When was Yuna when you needed her? She definitely should have picked up some tips on politics and all that from her cousin.
"Long time no see," Rikku said after an awkward pause. "Want to sit?" She offered, and he gladly took a seat across from her. Her mind immediately started devising some kind of plan to bring up the subject of the Den of Woe effortlessly.
"Sorry about that. I was surprised when I saw you rush in here and just wanted to see if you were okay," Baralai said with an apologetic tone of voice. Rikku had forgotten how nice and polite he was, a certain contrast to the two teenage perverts and a definite stark contrast to any man she had grown up with, but then again, the brusqueness of the Al Bhed manner comforted her much more than courteous consideration did. It was not that he intimidated her, but his culture certainly did. Even though she had liked him the moment she met him—he didn't have the creepy Yevon vibe—he was still deeply connected to this city. And it's not that she was prejudiced, but she had never quite liked brown eyes. People always gazed into the eyes of the Al Bhed, and when seeing the spiral pupils, they would stand back as if they had discovered they were some kind of beasts. She had the same reaction when she met dark brown eyes, like Baralai's, for the first time. She was distrustful of their shadow color, like a muddied surface constructed to hide the person's intentions.
Some of her old paranoia still lingered in her.
"I looked scared, huh?" Rikku smiled, stalling while her embarrassment receded.
"A little. Are you here by yourself?" He asked, but before Rikku could answer, the baker woman had returned with two cups of hot tea.
"On the house," the woman said with a wink. "Glad you found a friend," she added to Rikku. Her skin was nowhere near as dark as Baralai's, but it still had that russet glow that she had always envied. It was subtle, and though the old woman had brown eyes too, she was about the only inviting aspect of the city so far.
"Thanks." She took a sip, and it was just the warmth she needed. Baralai drank some of his tea too, still watching Rikku observantly. His dark eyes intently focused on her face as if he had never really had a chance to properly inspect her before. "Oh, your question, yeah, I'm here by myself," and before he could talk again she said, "And sorry about that comment, you weren't supposed to hear that."
"No, it's all right. I can—" he stopped, but changed his mind and continued, "I can imagine that it wouldn't be a pleasant place for you given the past."
"Oh, it's fine." She shook her head, and then quickly looked away from him for moment. She had grown too uncomfortable with his gaze not to mention it. "Do I have something weird on my face?"
His eyes widened, and he nearly dropped his tea. He quickly cleared his throat, straightened his back stiffly and looked down at the nearly disaster-ridden cup. The muscles around his dark brow tightened, and he shook his head. She realized she had completely embarrassed the heck out of him, and she was all the more glad for it. They were on even-ground.
"No, not at all, it was--" Mouth shut abruptly and he appeared to search around the room, looking to catch the words that weren't coming out of him. He finally faced her again with an awkward smile. "I didn't notice I was doing that. I guess I'm just curious why you're here."
"You mean, why an Al Bhed, especially me, would ever come to a city like Bevelle." She had the upper-hand, and she knew it.
"No, there are Al Bhed people in Bevelle, finally. Still a minority, but things are improving," he said, discomposed still, but not avoiding her eyes.
"That's good, I guess." She was partly trying to praise him and partly trying to appease him, because his own awkwardness was seeping into her.
"But then, you didn't come to Bevelle on holiday, did you?" He sipped his tea again, growing more comfortable, his eyebrows raised and his boyish glare with a hint of curiosity back in his russet eyes. One little praise and, suddenly, he had the upper hand again.
"Actually," she said, but hesitated, thinking of how best to put it. "Is Nooj in town?" It was the best she could come up with. So much for being smooth, but she still had a chance to salvage it. Her question puzzled Baralai, but he nodded.
"Well, yes. I suppose you don't know then." Baralai proceeded to explain to her that the Youth League had set up a sort of branch at one of the buildings in Bevelle, which was where Nooj took residence most of the time (and consequently Leblanc had moved to the city too, he said with a slight chuckle), even though the new Youth League headquarters remained in Kilika island. Nooj appointed Lucil, Commander of the Youth League, in charge of the Kilika headquarters. The Meyvn saw a better balance between the two groups this way, and so things in Bevelle were flourishing despite the usual arguments (an almost inaudible grunt) that would happen during council meetings and senate appeals.
"And I've just bored you to death with all this," Baralai added, and for the first time touching the roll that the baker woman had brought him. Rikku had eaten heartily while he talked, and so as long as her stomach had been entertained, she was fully able to pay attention, though anything political was usually too dull for her. Baralai had become incredibly animated during his talk, eager to share how much Bevelle had changed and how much, he, himself, was doing to renovate and reform the old religious institution into a social and somewhat secular organization. It kind of made him a bit charming.
"No, I think it's great," Rikku said almost with a full mouth, and quickly closed it. This was what courteous consideration did to her—it caused her to watch her every move she made. And of course, Baralai laughed, and consequently, Rikku became mortified.
"Sorry, I should let you eat," he said. She cleared her throat, and the mortification ebbed back into her mind.
"Oh no, it's okay." She wiped her mouth with the top of her hand. "I'm pretty much done."
"Here, Praetor, the usual to take home," the baker lady came again this time with a small brown box.
"Thanks, Hella," Baralai said. Rikku knew he probably had to leave soon and go do whatever praetors did. She was running out of times, and she had to know more about the Den of Woe ordeal, but the distrustfulness had quietly returned to its respectful corner in her mind the minute she lost the upper hand. It shouldn't have been such a big deal, but the way Hella had addressed him, and how looked so familiar with his surroundings made her shrink from telling him anything. It was a simple question too, and Rikku had never been prone to shyness, but Bevelle brought out the worst in her. She couldn't help it.
"You all right?" Baralai asked, and Rikku realized she had dazed off. Minus four smooth points for her.
"Oh yeah." She winced slightly in spite of herself. "I—well," Rikku began, but couldn't finish. It wasn't like she was asking him on a date.
"Praetor," a high-pitched voice called to him. A tall older woman, wearing a thick red robe with arabesque designs on the borders of the fabric, approached their table. A young woman stood next to her, wearing a light green flowing dress with a golden vest tightly fitted around her chest. Rikku immediately sank back in her seat at their presence. The city was already plotting against her.
"It's so good to see you this morning," the older woman said with a bow, and the younger one nodded slowly. They had similar features, the same uplifted round tip of the nose and the same cat-like blue eyes.
"It's good to see you too, Lady Jezel," he said to the mother, and then turning to the daughter, "Arista." Neither of them had a stolen a glance toward Rikku—neither wishing to acknowledge her presence, and before Baralai could mention any introductions, Lady Jezel had begun speaking again.
"You must come to dine with us this weekend. It would be a pleasure to have you, won't it, Arista?" The daughter nodded. "I've always thought you must be lonely, Bevelle being your hometown, but with no family, just old priests and politicians. I simply can't have that. Do promise to come dine at our home. Arista, here, is a great host." At this Arista blushed and smiled shyly at Baralai, who in turn, stole a pleading glance toward Rikku.
"Oh, unfortunately, my friend is in town," and motioning with one hand toward Rikku, "the Lady Rikku, High Guardian of Spira." Two pairs of eyes gave her a slow side-glance. Rikku flinched when she heard her title, bit her lip, and waved a short hello when the two women fully turned their heads and set their attention on her. Jezel tipped her head to the side, glared at Rikku's shoes under the table and then at rest of her, and with jaw-clenched smile, she bowed politely.
"It is an honor," she said while her daughter followed with a bow as well. Jezel turned back to Baralai. "It's a pity then, maybe some other time." Both of them bowed again at Baralai, and after one last side-glance from Jezel, the two women moved on to the counter to talk with the baker woman.
Their obvious jealousy projected on Rikku turned into an insurmountable impulse to laugh. Rikku stifled it, emerging only as a few choked giggles, and Baralai simply shook his head.
"What's so funny?" he asked, a perplexed expression set on his brow.
"I just never thought of you as a big wanted bachelor, but I guess you are the handsome Praetor of Bevelle." She wiggled her eyebrows, while glancing at the two women and then back at Baralai. She pressed her lips together to resist cracking up again.
"That's not funny," he reproached with a half-grimace, half-smile. "It's kind of embarrassing."
"If you say so." Her giggles had gotten loud enough that some people began to stare at them.
"I think we should leave. I think you're about to have a fit or something," he said. She nodded and quickly ran out, letting the laughter burst the minute she stepped outside. A few heads turned, but most of them went on their way.
"Oh Fayth, I'm sorry. I have no idea what came over me," she said, shaking her head, yet still laughing. Baralai finally laughed himself.
"Well, you just saved me from dinner at their place, so I suppose I owe you one, well probably much more than one. By the way, how long are you staying?" he asked her, and she immediately remembered what she was about to say before the two women interrupted them.
"Not long. I heard about a meeting on the Den of Woe, and I wanted to know if I could be a part of it. Yuna told me about it, well, actually it was Wakka. It doesn't matter and it's okay if I can't and it's a closed meeting—I mean—I understand and all." Her speech was fast, but it was the only way she could manage since it had all come out so suddenly. Baralai looked on with a continually puzzled expression, but his facial features relented to a smile and finally, a nod.
"Sure, how could I say no to 'Lady Rikku'?" Well, that was easy, much easier than she thought it was going to be.
"Don't start that again, please. Just Rikku."
"Okay then, Rikku, the meeting is actually tomorrow. Where are you going to stay?"
he asked, but didn't wait for the answer. "We have lodging rooms at the temple if you…" Rikku shook her head.
"No temple. Inn please." Baralai cleared his throat, and nodded at her.
"Right, there's an inn close to the senate building, where the meeting will be held. I'll take you there." He stretched his arm in the right direction.
"Perfect," she said, and became amazed later at the kind of humbling power of the Praetor walking next to her had on the crowds. The alien city remained just that, but at least she had, unexpectedly, a friendly companion to escort her, whom she was slowly beginning to trust, if not out of his assumed gratefulness, then out of his more laid-back display of before.
