To Love & Lost
Chapter 8: Moondance
(Warnings: T, none]
In chaos following the attack on Luca stadium, Lucans were thrown into a bed of coals salvaging what they could. It was said that were it not for Yuna and her guardians (the moniker becoming unshakable from their group], the destruction to Luca would've been far more wholesale. In this case, the harbor and several airports suffered the worst in damages, but casualties were purported to be down. It was an optimistic outcome compared to Sin's other assaults, but it called into question just how much one group of people, though powerful, would prove when the solution was still nowhere in sight.
Several buildings had been converted into hospitals, residing in the heart of the urban sprawl that had been largely untouched, save for residual Sin toxin that looked harmless compared to the wider swaths of destruction that could've been caused, like the failed Operation Mi'ihen or Kilika Island. The one that Yuna and her guardians were quarantined in was not only for the luxury of privilege, but because of how exceedingly close they'd come to the manifested blight. More than anyone, much depended on their full recovery.
Yuna had been lost to a stasis of deep slumber, sleeping for so long and deep that when she awoke, she momentarily forgot where she was and what she'd been doing. Then, she jolted upright, calling out, "Chuami, Kurgum!" fearfully when their fates rushed to the fore of her mind. All before she was arrested by a discombobulating sense of vertigo and an inward trill that deafened her for a long moment before fading gradually away. Groaning softly, she settled amid the white sheets again.
"Lady Yuna, don't hurt yourself!" Shelinda's voice interceded as she hovered worriedly near, coaxing the priestess to lay back down again which Yuna did reluctantly.
"Please, you have to tell me where Chuami and Kurgum are!" she pleaded, fixing Shelinda with a worrying gaze that admittedly facilitated guilt in the temporary nurse, but as soon as she recognized the names she sat on the side of Yuna's bed pivoted by her waist towards her.
"They're fine, Lady Yuna. They sustained some heavy injuries, but we have the best healers on the job. Give it a few days or more and they should be awake," Shelinda quieted reassuringly, nodding towards the two occupied beds closer to the picturesque window. "Unfortunately, both are out cold. You four have been asleep for the past few days now."
Yuna felt a cold sensation creep up her spine at the mention of them, eyes downcast as she sighed and felt an overwhelming regret that clenched hold of her throat. "I'm sorry," she croaked out, biting her lip as she felt her eyes become misty, burning with salt. "So many people died and there was nothing I could do."
Shelinda's expression became immediately sympathetic, reaching for one of Yuna's hands and holding it tenderly, stroking calming circles with her thumb. "Please, don't blame yourself for this. You actually wound up saving so many people, Lady Yuna. Many, many more would be dead. It was just the stadium that was affected, really. And those people who passed on have been sent. They're in a better place now."
Yuna heaved a calming sigh, wiping away the beginnings of feeble tears and mustering a soft smile, trying to brighten her countenance. "You're right. We'll just have to keep on fighting, won't we?" Though the smile was heartbreaking, it caused Shelinda to manage one of her own.
"But of course, my Lady. We'll pull through it, I know we will." She paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before realization struck her. "Oh, I forgot to mention. Seymour was the first to awaken. He's been wandering here and there, but some Crusaders have been keeping an eye on him," the acolyte admitted, holding her chin. "Thankfully, he's been keeping to himself. He's been coming here the most to watch over you, Lady Yuna."
The priestess felt a slight roseate color her cheeks at the mention of it, but it evaporated away at such reassurance. Sighing in relief, her gaze was grateful on the brunette. "Thank you. I suppose I just have to join everyone once I've rested here, haven't I?"
"Please do. I believe Rikku is still resting, too. We were able to move her to another room once the worst of the Sin toxin passed, and she seems alright, if a little cooped up."
"Knowing Rikku, don't mind her if you get an earful about it," Yuna admitted with a breathy giggle.
It was by dusk that Yuna felt her eyes crack open again, the whispery brine of the sea overlooking the city through picturesque, open windows allowed for its freshness to filter through, ornately colored curtains riding on those breezes for a mellowing, enchanting effect. Soft sheets were rolled back and Yuna stretched, yawning hugely before letting her limbs flop down again and feeling considerably refreshed from before. Blinking owlishly, Yuna noticed with a start Seymour silhouetted by the window and gazing peacefully out on the horizon, listening to the baying gulls wheeling in the sunset's long rays. Unwilling to break the silence first, she studied him, something entrancing about seeing him so deep in thought—an observation she wouldn't repeat aloud, of course.
"Ah, you're awake," he noticed crisply, unfolding his arms and striding towards her, sinking down into a chair near her bedside that seemed to be a practiced routine for him by now. "Asleep for almost three days, you had many people worried. I imagine you have questions."
Yuna's lips pursed, wondering what prompted such care over her person. Even if she wasn't exactly complaining, remembering his conduct during the battle still eked a small flare of mistrust in her, one that demanded resolution. Still, she released the tensity for now, it not feeling like the time nor place. "What's the news? Has there been any other signs of Sin?" she asked first, those niggling loudest in her mind.
Seymour reclined back, making himself comfortable for what would likely evolve into one of their conversations. Legs crossing and hands resting on his lap, he began with his gaze wandering out the window again. "I imagine the nurse, Shelinda, mentioned something to you. Thanks to our efforts, casualties were far less than what they might have been. Pity about the stadium. It's fortunate Bevelle's is nearly complete. As for Sin, no. They suspect it might have retreated into the sea."
Yuna breathed an honest sigh of relief, taking that much to heart. Even though those who'd lost their lives weighed her personally, there was still a chance for redemption and to fuel it into a stronger effort in their fight. "Has there been anything on the news?"
Seymour glanced at her, shifting some. A fog horn sounded loudly on the water before he spoke again. "Yes. A stray sphere camcorder miraculously caught much footage of the battle before being destroyed in Sin's escape. A live feed no less, can you imagine? A show for the masses," he remarked, smirking in amusement. He seemed to be acclimating the reality of his station better than she thought. Was he gratified? Did it make no difference, or grate on his psyche? It was impossible to tell.
Yuna quirked a small smile, bringing her legs over the side of her bed and feeling like jelly, the long sleep having numbed them. "I can't help but wonder about Bevelle's stadium. The last I heard from Chuami, it wasn't finished. And it is one of the only places besides Luca in Spira that looks like teams will be able to compete at. I suppose it's a little far-fetched to hope it might somehow be done soon."
Seymour canted his head, smiling enigmatically and abruptly changing the subject. "Did you not hear the news? There's to be quite a gala in Bevelle a week from today, Yuna. A formal dance for the elite of Spira to pool their resources to aid Luca."
She started at this, gazing perplexed at him. "A ball? And a week from today, no less. Hm… I suppose that sounds like the sort of thing Spira might need," Yuna commented neutrally. Sometimes it was easy to forget the existence of social divides, of castes and classes when Sin and her vagabond ways seldom saw her staying in more than one place to notice. Still, it made her stomach turn uneasily. For the social distinction she bore throughout Spira, there had never really been much of a chance for her to experience such things. Summoners had never been very high in the echelons of Yevon, and High Summoners never survived long enough to reap the fruits of their status. Even if she was a first, Yuna liked living quietly. New Yevon and the Youth League had certainly attempted to have her attend formal events to curry favor, but she'd always declined.
And when Tidus had been with her? Well, not much existed except for blitzball and living quietly together. It was a life she enjoyed, anyways. Even Rikku was likely better keyed in for such things with her busy lifestyle. A fond memory lit her up with a smile, Yuna laughing to herself while Seymour canted his head in silent inquiry, gaze steady on her. "I remember when I was a little girl, my father would sometimes teach me dancing. He was so tall compared to me, but, you know—he was so gentle. I'd usually cheat and stand on his toes, but I don't think he minded much." Yuna's eyes crinkled at the corners from her smile, bright and happy. "I tried teaching Kimahri later on. I don't think he caught on quite as well."
Seymour seemed to grow distant at the mention of her father, of them altogether, Yuna cognizant as to why. Then, he offhandedly quipped, "I imagine you'll need to attend with a date, is that not so? And so much to do to prepare. A dress, hair-styling, make-up—quite a lot in order for the priestess to look her best."
Yuna made a face at him, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. "I think I'd rather not. The last thing I need is to appear with someone who'd treat me like an accessory. If it's in Bevelle, I've got the Gullwings, anyways. And, you know, that's why we have dresspheres~! I'm sure Shinra's got something he could cook up," she replied with a playful laugh, rising from her bed and bouncing on her feet upright. "Yup, I'm going to go find Rikku." She needed a bath, anyways. You could only spend so many days in bed before it began to feel crummy, after all.
Seymour chuffed a small laugh once she'd bounded from the room, an energetic aura swathing the woman even he could feel in her wake. For it would seem they were in for quite the soiree in the coming week.
The week had passed restively, a surprising notion when Sin was still a tantamount threat upon every horizon, but hardly any Lucan could think to protest. Just a few days before there had been a televised vigil where the exact number of victims saw paper lanterns lit for, situated on small plates of buoyant wood that would carry them out to sea, Yuna presiding and saying the rite that every faithful and not could find some measure of agreement with in their hearts. A way to mourn the those dearly departed whom had lost their lives, but also a show of gratitude for those spared who would keep the fight on for their sake.
Chuami and Kurgum found themselves in full recovery for their heroics, accolades having been gifted to them for their bravery, and promotion for both within the Council. Though their duties were frozen for now, it seemed in agreement among their superiors that the pair could consider themselves fully-fledged guardians, fighting to protect not only the priestess, but the city of Luca and all Spirans who called it home. Seymour had become acclimated to a near-constant state of seclusion, dedicating his time to studying whatever records their level of clearance allowed them to have with the Council, proving to be the best person armed to the task. Being a former maester of Yevon had its bounties, after all.
The opportune time would come, after so long. As their former airship had been totaled, it was a slow travel by sea that would carry them through the night on a stately machina ship outfitted for them and the other notables of Luca who would be attending, making several stops along the way to Bevelle. A day and night would pass before the morning would see them arrive, cresting through foamy waves through the bustling traffic centered on one of many harbors situated beyond city walls. Already Yuna was gripped in trepidation before they'd disembarked, the ship slowly sculling its way through water traffic that seemed congested to the brim with those possessing fame and fortune throughout Spira.
Still, her spirits weren't totally dampened. With sphere hunting having created a craze, Al Bhed machinery flourishing, a new middle class had emerged in the past few years. New money that could flaunt itself as par with older families that otherwise traced themselves to either Bevellan aristocracy or Zanarkand ancestry, both of which were startling and new to Yuna.
The ship loudly bellowed its pass through the straits, Yuna people-watching from the high decks with Rikku at her side, the girl leaping enthusiastically and blowing kisses to onlookers who recognized the legendary guardian with ease from the docks and piers. "Not too much. Rikku; they might start asking you for autograph," Yuna teased, ribbing her cousin with her elbow, eliciting a hearty giggle from the blonde.
"Like you're one to talk, Miss I'd-rather-live-quietly! Seems to me you're fitting into the status of a celebrity pretty well, huh?" Rikku nudged back with a wink, Yuna flushing and shyly gazing away.
"Not that much! What, do you think I'm going to let this go to my head or something?" Then, as she was caught up in waving to a crowd of spectators that whooped in her direction, she acceded with a giggle, "Alright, maybe a little. But that's our little secret, okay?"
As they began to disperse and the ship slowly directed itself for its moorings behind Bevelle's even higher walls, Yuna sighed as they looked sky-high at the wall of inclined crimson until it stopped where buildings were perched, using her hand as a visor where to see where sky still was bright. It was hard to believe she was back again so soon, and something edged in her was uncomfortable with how commonplace it was becoming. Before, when she'd still been sphere hunting, neutrality had been a breath of fresh air even above the political upheaval. Now, it felt as though she'd be sharply polarized once again even when divisiveness was the last thing Spirans needed in a time of Sin. You'd think that wouldn't be the case with a unified Council and Yevoners being but a philosophy to live by instead of a world power, but even she could feel the tension. Part of her wondered, if when it was all over, how Spira would be transformed once again. Of what would survive and what would undergo a drastic metamorphosis.
As if reading her mind, Rikku leaned with her back to the ledge and faced Yuna, face turned towards her. "Hey, Yunie—where's Seymour, anyway? Isn't he supposed to be like your shadow or something?" Rikku asked, her features not exactly expressing happiness to be speaking about him, but she'd asked all the same. "Is leaving him alone such a good idea? I mean, how do you know he isn't planning to blow Bevelle up or something?"
Yuna smiled almost smugly at her cousin, a hooking finger directing her to lean nearer, as if to receive a secret. "You're not going to believe this, Rikku, but I think he's taken on Kurgum as a sort of apprentice. The Spiran Council said Seymour needed supervision from one of their members, so I guess our official sender is doing his duty, in a way. Anyway, I'm glad. If they can search for answers together, I think we'll really get somewhere."
"Huh, guess it's not so funny," Rikku said, shrugging her shoulders and staring at the whorls in the water the slowly pivoting ship was producing in its sidelong docking. "I mean, wasn't he Minister of Temple Affairs before? I heard he used to oversee the training of summoners."
"That could explain it," Yuna agreed neutrally, propping her chin on her hand, rocking some on her feet. Even though she wasn't exactly sure if she'd really begin to trust Seymour, this new development showed promise. Before Kurgum had been licensed as a sender, he was an aspiring summoner just as she'd been, as Seymour had been. Kurgum deserved that, even though Rikku's disapproval of Seymour's influence exerted over him was palpable.
A staggering vibrato of the engines sounded whilst the ship buoyed itself one last time before a gangplank was noisily lowered, Rikku one of the first to bolt off the ship, likely glad to be off. Though Rikku had a strong stomach, she detested sea travel. Too slow and boring, she complained. At least, that was the most common complaint. Yuna lingered while other passengers departed in their ostentatious robes and wealthy finery, feeling relieved at how plain she was garbed. Even the thought of having to bedeck herself for this event made her feel wary. It was only another moment more before Seymour emerged from below with Kurgum in tow, the pair animatedly conversing with each other, Yuna hearing snippets about the beasts of yore, the aeons. She couldn't help but smile, one that Seymour caught sight of and smugly so.
"You seem to be having fun." Yuna smiled at him, a rare moment of levity to be shared between the pair. Seymour took his place at her side, towering over her but leaning close to hear her better.
"Even though Spira's summoners are gone, those once destined to become them have very engaging minds, Yuna. Surely even you can agree," Seymour chuckled in his manner, Yuna gazing back over the crowds just barely thinning, wondering if now wouldn't be the time to walk. Just as she was preparing to do just that, he added under his breath for her to hear, "...Had I ever fathered a son, I wonder if he would've been like Kurgum." This caused Yuna's eyes to widen, but she pretended not to hear him, even as Seymour's eyes intently rested on her before he made his descent from the ship even before she.
Yuna exhaled shakily, not even realizing she'd been holding her breath at all.
Rikku had guided her cousin into their shared room with a certain degree of nervousness, Yuna perplexed as to why, but when the door was closed as soundly and silently as possible, her heart fluttered in anticipation. "Pops heard about the ball, and well, he kinda...told me there was something he wanted you to have, Yunie," Rikku began, smiling feebly as she stood before a wardrobe, pressing aside the gowns she and Paine were slated to wear, Yuna's heart pounding into her throat.
With an exceedingly reverent placement upon her bed, Rikku dutifully laid down the skirt, halter top, detachable sleeves and other accessories. When Yuna realized what it was, her eyes began misting, smiling through it. "Rikku, it's...beautiful." What lay before her was a close approximation to her mother's outfit she'd seen on the Farplane only glorified in beauty. The skirt was sheer with one beneath stopping at her thighs, glistening in the light whilst the halter top sported sheer material gossamer in the right lighting. The sleeves were still solid, but ghostly light with how easily they flowed, how their movement was entrancing.
"It used to be hers, but Pops wanted you to wear it. Especially for this." Though Rikku's voice was soft, it brightened a bit cheerily. "Knock 'em dead, y'know? Something to stuff in the crotchety old Yevoners' faces," she added cheekily, receiving a playful smack to her arm that felt more like a tap. Upon a vanity Rikku had lain some jewelry, and seeing as Yuna's hair had been lightly twisted into a low ponytail, crystal jewelry fixed at several points, both simply knew the ensemble would really dazzle. With Rikku similarly clad in clothing that exclaimed her heritage, both girls knew they'd make a real entrance.
It would be another hour until it began, Yuna's throat tightening with nervousness even as Paine had joined her, completing the trio. Although Paine and Rikku were closed about their relationship—as broken up as they were supposed to be—Yuna already knew Rikku simply wouldn't dance with anyone else if it came to it. Guests were being called by name atop a grand staircase, sweeping on to a ballroom floor where vaulted windows were consumed with the view of the Bevellan night. Ornate artwork and vaulted ceilings were painted with ornate imagery of Yevon, reliefs of the fayth swirling in a Farplane far above their heads. It was beautiful to behold, honestly.
This was the Upper Palace of Saint Bevelle, she recalled. Just a few levels below where she had been three years before, trying to not allow the memory prematurely spoil the evening. Paine looked irritated as to what was taking so long, Rikku antsy, while Yuna was just as anxious as they were. Though the ensemble she'd worn was far more beautiful than preconceived, compared to those in the ballroom proper, they could pass for plain morning doves among a throng of vibrant peacocks. When a bellboy gestured at them, Yuna hissed back, "It's our turn!" while fumbling to compose herself. Rikku made a furious last few adjustments before they were set to descend the stair.
The doors opened and they rounded a short corridor, Yuna slowly emerging as light poured on her and she stood at the focal point, drawing a ring of gasps from among the crowd. Holding her head high, she willed herself to ignore any gossiping, Rikku mentally coaching herself to do the same. "And here we present to you the Gullwings! The acclaimed sphere group composed of High Summoner Yuna, legendary guardian Rikku, and the sphere huntress, Paine. Together, they defeated the threat of Vegnagun, and three years ago, the previous downfall of Sin." Yuna became admittedly flustered by the praise, Rikku waving shyly while Paine was nonplussed, likely because she appeared modest compared to her friends.
Their heels clicked as they descended the stair, Yuna gazing through the crowds for familiar faces and seeing none, though she internally prayed the Spiran Council would be making an appearance, else she feared she'd be stuck with her friends in the sea of unfamiliar faces.
One did strike out the most, however. Close to the right of the banister was Seymour, eyes unable to leave hers as a smile quietly found its way to his lips. Yuna almost didn't recognize him in the robes he donned, but his height spoke loud enough for him, dressed in a proud Guado fashion she found surprising given his past resentments. Maybe, she thought, the reason he did was the same as her own for sporting her Al-Bhed heritage. The man wasted no time as he separated from the crowd, turning so that Yuna would be at his side by the time she reached the floor, his elbow slightly jutted as invitation to loop her hand through.
Even though she paused in trepidation, nothing about his air felt particularly ominous to her, something she wanted to place faith in. Swallowing down the brief moment of timidity, she looped her arm through and found herself guided to the dance floor, others lining in symmetrical arrays for what she assumed would be a waltz.
"I see dressing modestly wasn't on the agenda tonight, huh?" she quipped up at him with a small smile, Seymour chuckling. It was true; some of his old fashion had returned, including the exposure of his chest and its tattoos, all the way down to his navel. Through the robes were different, the form hardly seemed to be.
"Could I not say the same, Lady Yuna? It seems we'll be tonight's epicenter of conversation," he noted, many pairs of eyes fixated upon them. Yuna only sighed, praying for the orchestra to begin playing. "At the very least, I will have the honor of your first dance tonight."
"Honor, huh? Well, don't let it go to your head. I'm going to dance with as many people as I can tonight and that's a promise." Though it sounded stronger than she meant it, any premonition she might have had in regards to his jealousy or rudeness seemed absolved for the night, the polite man she'd met before his treachery shining through. Even if it was only a falsity for the night, it was better to enjoy his good behavior while it lasted. If it would ever turn sour again, that was.
Seymour seemed oblivious to her decision for the night, far more absorbed in the moment as he took her chastely by her waist and hand, guiding her fluidly as the orchestra began its dulcet sonata until other instruments arose from the overture, said orchestra exclusively played by the Macalanian musicians. His eyes didn't leave hers, and her toes had become smart enough not to stomp on to his feet by mistake, something she silently marveled at. Gently, he remarked, "My mother taught me well." To this, she smiled as the waltz began in truth.
It was gentle music led by a piano, almost as much of a sonata as it promised to be. The lights lowed and the other dancers began to steadily trickle away from them, but Yuna didn't question it. Instead, Seymour raptly held her attention, her feet easily following his as he led her, twirling her with a whirling note from a passionate violin, unable to help the slight smile from vertigo. Her long skirt and sleeves moved like blossoms around her, being guided through a dance as though it were practiced. "Everyone's staring," she murmured under her breath as Seymour twirled her back in, the man seeming unperturbed.
"And why wouldn't they? High Summoner Yuna waltzing with a man barely redeemed within an inch of his life. Controversy abounded from the first day of your noble undertaking, Lady Yuna."
Just as she'd thought to comment, the hand guiding her gently squeezed it, out of a reassurance she could only presume. "I— ...Do you think this...any of this…is really worth it?" This was cause for a brief frown to cross Seymour's face, the jocularity cooling from his features.
"Are you truly asking me, or simply reflecting what you cannot ask yourself?" Yuna's jaw hitched shut, brows furrowing together. Maybe it was simply because his absurd nihilism couldn't contrast well to her deep love and hope in Spira, or maybe because it was his words from before. He wasn't anything like Tidus. It hardly took even the shortest glance to confirm that, she knew. Her expression hardened and she found herself going cold in his, forgetting his gentle gesture just now.
"I'm sorry," she said forcefully, "but I think I'd like to dance with Chancellor Baralai for the next dance." Seymour's own became languished, grim with regret as the realization of his mistake began to sink in, in the words chosen too harshly.
Just as she was about to stride away with the song's conclusion, his gentle grip around her hand stopped her. It engulfed hers, Yuna frozen in place as she realized...his hand was warm. Most of all, it wasn't possessive. It didn't convey a want of ownership, of suffocation like it'd felt in the past. That her power, her reputation, and her endgame was all he wanted. To be at the side of Lord Braska's daughter and maybe...maybe...fulfill that prophecy from years ago. Of his mother's wish for the Pilgrimage to save mother and son. Though it didn't completely lower her moment of steely reserve, her brows puckered together, staring away. "What is it?" she murmured, mismatched eyes searching his own.
Seymour remained silent for a long moment, the words working upon still lips—she could see it in his eyes. Expressive eyes that betrayed what a cheshire cat grin couldn't guard. Finally, lips pulled from their pursed line and he turned to her, sighing inaudibly. He bowed, neatly, in his fashion with a hand beneath his chest. "I beg pardon, but I must retire for the evening, Lady Yuna."
Her expression is level if not carrying tinges of disappointment, nodding her assent. "I see. I will see you tomorrow then, Seymour."
Then, he would depart with a look back, questioning glances at his person from a man unwilling to answer.
