58: Connected
"I'll go first." Rikku stepped forward, full of determination.
A hand caught her shirt and yanked her back before she could manage a second step. "I'm invoking a Summoner's privilege," Braska said.
Scowling, Rikku stepped on the edge of his trailing robe. "Hold it right there, bud!"
"There is absolutely no reason to allow you to use it before I!" Pointing at the glowing tile embedded into the floor, Braska gave her a stern look. "Yevon knows you'll end up on the other side of the cavern instead of at the entrance somehow. We'll be lost here for a week!"
"The teleport pads are supposed to make getting out of here easier," she grumbled. "But they're single-use only! With your luck, if you go first, you'll end up right in the maw of a hungry Malboro. I've got first dibs, and that's final."
Braska shook his head. "I have never seen anyone fail to navigate more spectacularly than you, my dear. Might I remind you? We were aiming for Luca, and you took us to Baaj."
"T-that was the fish's fault!" They traded glares for a few moments longer before she relented, scrubbing her forehead. "Look. We'll be stuck here forever if we keep arguing. There's got to be a better way."
They looked down the dark, maze-like corridor that led back towards the cavern's exit. Almost at the edge of her sight, a glowing bobble bounced across one of the crossings.
"…I don't believe it's by foot," Braska said. Facing her, he tapped his chin. "Are you certain there is no way to make this device transport us simultaneously?"
Studying the glowing tile, Rikku hummed. "Well, it's activated by pressure, I think. It never worked when we tried to do it in twos, though." She eyed Braska critically. "I guess I could put on my Berserker outfit and give you a lift. That might work…"
He blanched. "I do not think that would be appropriate."
"Why not?"
"The last time you handled me in that outfit, you broke my ribs!" He leaned on his staff. "I only have my own experiences with your Alchemist and Berserker spheres to form a hypothesis, but tell me… did you ever attempt to wear the Samurai outfit while in close contact with Auron?"
"Yeah. While we were in Besaid," she said. "We were at each other's throats! It was like too much of a good thing. Not to mention all the sparks that were flying since we were both thinking the same…" She trailed off, noted Braska's pointed stare, and coughed into her fist. "Yeah, so scratch that idea."
She looked down at her Garment Grid, another plan beginning to form as she eyed Lenne's sphere. "I think I've got an idea." As if in response, it warmed under her touch. "Say, can you dance? I don't mean like Jecht does. Do you know any of those formal stuffy things they do at functions in Bevelle?"
"Naturally," he replied, bemused. "During my studies, I learned all of the classical Bevellian - wait a moment. What? No."
"Come on," she wheedled.
He shook his head. "No! Rikku, I'm quite serious!"
One brief argument later and with all equipment properly secured, Braska looked even more uncomfortable than before. "So, I simply have to lead you through this dance? I'm not sure I understand how this will resolve anything."
"Don't be a party pooper," she told him, dusting off her Songstress outfit. "If we get the timing right, the pressure pads should teleport us both at the same time." Braska still looked unconvincedm, so she sighed theatrically. "Look, it's that or fighting our way back out the way we came. Since Lenne's willing to help us out with this, we just need to practice 'til we get it right." She tapped her toe and a chime sounded. Then she snapped her fingers and lively music filled the cavern.
Braska swallowed. "But surely the fiends - "
"I told you before, the pattern always makes magic. It should freeze anything incoming wherever we're dancing, so stop worrying." She trotted towards him in time with the beat.
He frowned. "Yes, but when you stop moving?"
"There are only two possible results," she said, continuing her dance. "We end up coordinated enough to activate that tile, or we give up and get chomped." Twirling, she stopped by his side. "Better get started!"
With an expression that could only be described as long-suffering, he began to awkwardly emulate her movements.
Laughing at his wooden motions, Rikku swung her hips. "Don't be such a stick! Loosen up, this'll be fun. I thought you knew how to do this one!"
"That was in the past," Braska said, even as his movements began to smooth and become more natural. "It's been years since I've practiced." He huffed as she wheeled around him.
"Stop talking and concentrate," she chided, coming out of her spin facing him. She planted one hand on his shoulder. "You're ready now. Let's go."
Nodding, he grabbed her free hand and placed his other high on her back. And then they were off, spinning around the room in a dizzying whirl of robes and literal magic. To his credit, he managed to avoid smashing her toes as they traversed the room.
When they stepped onto the glowing tile, nothing apart from a brief shine happened.
"We won't make it like this," she complained. "Let's make another pass!"
Braska, breathless, could only nod in agreement. They stopped in the corner of the cavern, and he dipped her while glancing at the tile. She spun into the move, arching her back, and looked in the opposite direction down the dark corridor. An audience of fiends was forming, pressed against the edge of Lenne's magic barrier.
Uh-oh. Looks like all this music is attracting an audience after all.
Shaking off the attention, she nodded at Braska when he brought her back up. Skipping across the floor together, they made another pass at the tile. This time their feet hit the floor in tandem; hope rising, Rikku synced her right foot with his left as they stepped onto the tile. This time, the glow was brighter.
Her heart soared—then crashed, as they continued past the tile without activating it.
Turning them in a wide circle, Braska's face displayed his frustration. He was sweating in earnest, now; their dance more akin to a constant jog. He performed a few slower twirls to catch his breath.
"This... isn't working," he puffed.
"Maybe we're doing this wrong," she replied. We're not coordinated enough. We're going into this dance like it's some kind of battle. Maybe that's the problem...
"Hey," she said as they drew to a stop. She leaned to the side and stretched her leg back in a dramatic pose to keep the magic going, and on his next spin she pulled away. "Follow my lead," she instructed.
"We would need years of training to coordinate this dance successfully," he told her bitterly, mirroring her.
"Stop trying so hard," she coaxed, lifting her arms and putting some swing into her steps. "Try dancing with a little less concentration and a little more soul. Have some fun for once!"
"Our lives may be in danger - "
"This is a dance! Our dance, not some lesson in Bevellian party etiquette! Improvise! Just trust me and live a little, alright?" She snapped her fingers and slowed her steps to give him the floor. "You're a good dancer. Really. You might give Jecht a run for his money if he'd bother to learn formal dancing."
Braska peered at her before kicking out into a small jig. She clapped and the tension on his face eroded.
Smiling, she continued dancing with him; although a part of her words had been calculated to stoke his ego, he really wasn't that bad. In fact, if they weren't in a cavern surrounded by bloodthirsty fiends trying to eat them, she might've described the whole experience as fun.
Never thought I'd feel that way about a Yevonite two-step. She giggled and took her own advice, throwing herself into the rhythm. This time, when they came together again, he grabbed her first, pulling her towards him in a tight spin.
"May I have this dance, my lady?" he asked breathlessly during the brief pause, and she nodded. He took off, leading her across the cavern at a lively pace.
The ground seemed to fly under her feet; probably because she wasn't watching them anymore. Neither was Braska; his eyes were trained on her now, and his answering smile was bright and wide. He led her into a jaunty pivot, and she followed, laughing.
He spun her around; faster and faster they turned, moving across the floor in a dizzying spiral, the music reaching a crescendo.
And then, with a stomach-lurching feeling, the lights and music abruptly faded.
Gasping for breath, Rikku sagged against him. Her eyes darted back and forth, taking in their surroundings. We're back at the entrance!
Braska tumbled to his knees, wheezing as he dragged her down with him.
"We made it," she gasped, rolling off him with a delighted yelp. "Look! We made it work!" Deactivating her dressphere, she sat up and tried to help Braska to his feet, but he waved her off.
"This… was not… one of your brighter… notions," he groaned.
"But you enjoyed it, right?"
He said nothing, but there was a twinkle in his eye. Then he wilted, obviously tired.
Feeling guilty, she dropped her pack and fished through it, pulling out a flask of water and pressing it into his hands.
After taking a long drink, he pulled off his headpiece and wiped down his sweat-slicked forehead. "Better," he breathed, settling comfortably. "I am much too old for this."
"For what? Having fun?" She smirked, then drank the water when he passed it back. After gulping some down, she hummed in agreement. "But, yeah, it was harder than I thought. Can you imagine doing all that and singing, too?" She shook her head and gave Lenne's sphere a pat.
"I am more imagining how displeased Auron is going to be with us. He specifically told me, 'No touching.'"
She choked on her next sip of water. Whoops. "…I don't think this counts, since I'm the one who forced you?" she tried. Auron loves me enough not to kill me. I hope. "We'll be fine."
" 'Especially if she claims it will be fine," Braska said, voice lowered as he imitated Auron. "It will not be fine. You will not be fine.' "
She cringed. "We'd be less fine if either of us ended up dead. Besides, you've got a shiny new aeon now. And, Yojimbo likes big swords too! Maybe they'll bond."
"Surely," he agreed with a short laugh. "They both harbor a strong resentment against me. We shouldn't lose our heads over this. What could go wrong?"
"Those puns will kill me deader than anything in this cave." Groaning, Rikku stood and offered him her hand again. "Time to go?"
"Most definitely," he agreed, using his staff as a walking stick once he was upright.
Rikku scrambled through the passage toward the exit, Braska close behind; they stumbled into broad daylight, blinking and shielding their faces from the valley's muted sunshine.
"Whoo-hoo, fresh air!" she cheered, stretching.
Something crackled, followed by a low mechanical whine. Rikku's smile froze as she caught sight of rusty but all-still-too-operational Defender. It swayed before her, its huge knuckles creating furrows in the soil.
"Lifeform detected," a monotone voice buzzed from a speaker near its shoulder. "Analyzing."
She looked up… and up… and up—the Defender was slightly larger than Ifrit—then gulped. "…Uh, Braska?"
"Species: Al Bhed," the Defender continued. "Assessment: Hostile. Execute subroutine: Eliminate." It lumbered towards her, whirring and clacking.
"Yikes!" She flung herself away from its swinging fist, which missed by a hair's breadth. "We've got trouble! Take cover!" she yelled at Braska, gesturing back at the cavern.
Braska was gaping, but raced back into the passage at her shout; she chased, hot on his heels.
They stopped when they were a good distance away from the entrance, cowering as the Defender attempted to smash through the rocks blocking the narrow path. The entire cave shuddered with each blow, the overhead shaft of daylight progressively widening.
"Those rocks won't hold it back forever." She growled and smacked herself before slipping her Godhand on. "Sorry. That was dumb of me to run out without checking. I was careless."
"Don't blame yourself. I was also too happy to escape from this place," Braska told her, wincing as the cavern shook again. "But for now, we must focus. That… abomination is quite large," he admitted. "It may be time to test our new aeon's mettle against it."
"Good idea, but…" Scrounging through her pockets, she pulled out a bag full of coins and pressed them into his hand. "You're gonna need this. And for machina's sake, don't give him the whole bag this time!"
Braska took the pouch. "What am I to do with this? When I enter Rapture, it will be useless in my hands."
"Just call Yojimbo! You'll see."
The cavern shook again. With a quick inhale, he drew out his staff and held it before him, bending his head in concentration. Spinning green globes of magic surrounded him as he swung the staff upwards and light burst around his figure. The air warped and twisted, turning darker than the cavern itself, illuminated only by the gleam from an artificial moon.
For a few moments, they were immersed in a completely different world, as cherry blossom petals fell around them like gentle rain. Yojimbo's form shimmered into view, Koimanu trailing after him. The larger aeon made a beeline straight towards Braska, each step heavy and purposeful.
Braska froze, brows knitted in confusion. "There is no Rapture." He twitched, sending her a helpless look. "I can feel him. But I can't control him."
Yojimbo came to a stop, towering above them.
"You might consider fleeing," Braska told her nervously.
"Nuh-uh." She stepped closer. "We're in this pickle together."
After a few tense moments, Yojimbo finally shook out his sleeve, extending an open palm. Fortunately, Braska had the presence of mind to pull out some gil rather than tossing the entire pouch into Yojimbo's waiting hand this time.
Sadly, he still didn't have the sense to count it.
Closing his massive fist around the coins, Yojimbo let them clink together, weighing them. Then, with a nod, he threw back his cloak and strode towards the cavern's entrance. Koimanu's tail wagged once before he bounded after his master.
By now the Defender had widened the passage entrance enough for Yojimbo to slip through with only a faint slouch to his shoulders. The aeon stopped just before exiting the cavern and pointed.
Koimanu shot forward, slamming into the Defender and clearing a path.
Unhurried, Yojimbo stepped out after them.
"Looks like it worked," Rikku said in the silence that followed. "You wanna follow?"
"...Not particularly, but what choice do we have?" Braska asked, still looking uneasy. "I've never experienced anything like this. A summoned aeon who is capable of free will? Is this truly a good thing?"
Now was not the time for soul-searching questions.
She stopped him. "Guardians first. Double-especially if you're going to let a bunch of philosophical questions distract you in the middle of a fight."
Moving out of the cave cautiously, she scanned the valley. Yojimbo and the Defender were facing one another and Koimanu was repeatedly daigoro-ing the confused mech.
She beckoned towards Braska. "They're in the middle of the field now, so I think we're good."
Braska emerged behind her and inhaled sharply. "Impressive," he said, watching the fight.
The Defender swept its gear-laden fist out, and Koimanu went flying; they ducked as the mountainside next to them shook from the impact. Koimanu slumped to the ground, boneless, and moments later the dog's body burst into pyreflies.
Rikku winced. "Uh-oh."
Braska started, alarmed. "What is it?"
"It's all over now. It's killed his dog."
Enraged, Yojimbo raised two fingers before his face and concentrated for half a breath. Then he raced forward, unsheathing his sword in a clean sweep.
A loud clang sounded. The Defender shuddered.
Sliding to a stop behind it, Yojimbo reversed the blade and lunged backwards, stabbing the staggering machina through its torso.
Metal screeched and groaned as Yojimbo twisted his sword, pinning the Defender to the ground. Sparks flew from the machina's ruptured metal plating and its mechanical arms flailed, sending chunks of earth and rock flying.
"Warning! Power levels dropping. Critical hydraulic system failure detected," the Defender announced in its robotic monotone.
Yojimbo placed a foot on its shoulder and drove his blade in deeper.
"Leg acc-ccc-ccc-tuators disengaged," the speakers sputtered. "Mobility compromised. E-mer-mer-mer-gency maintenance required. Initiating shutdo-"
Yojimbo yanked the sword out in a gleaming arc, spraying oil and metal shards everywhere.
The metallic voice cut off as the Defender vibrated then collapsed, steaming and inert.
Shaking his sword out, Yojimbo turned towards Braska. He bowed, almost politely, then grew translucent, fading away in an anticlimactic denouement to the ferocious battle.
They were left alone with the broken husk of the Defender, leaking acrid-smelling hydraulic fluid.
"Well. That was unsettling." Braska cautiously approached the disabled machina and prodded it with his staff. "We are certain this thing cannot be resurrected, yes?"
"Of course not! It was never even really alive. Machina are just scraps of metal bolted together, running on clever programming. It can't repair itself - " A sudden, crazy idea burst into her mind as she eyed the felled machine. "... but maybe we can!"
Jumping away from the Defender, Braska shot her a wild-eyed look. "It might rise again?"
Grinning, Rikku launched herself towards the machina. "It sure will if I can help it!"
Some time and scattered tools later, she found herself elbow-deep into the guts of the machina, sweating as she tried to reprogram the ancient circuitry to suit their needs. It was slower going than she'd expected; the old machina was complex, badly damaged, and somewhat beyond her usual scope of expertise. Still, the thought of Gippal laughing in her face at being unable to best him kept her stubbornly going. She finished connecting a few more wires then paused to take a deep breath.
How about now…?
Snapping her fingers, Rikku waited until the sparks of electricity between them stabilized. She bit her tongue, reached between the delicate wires and released the Thunder spell, then recoiled.
Crackling, the Defender twitched, then stalled.
"I was sure I had it that time." She chewed her lower lip, eyeing the crude patch job she'd done on the machina's torso. Pulling a knife from her pouch, she dove back into its guts.
Braska looked up from the rock he was sitting on. "Perhaps it's for the best that your efforts have been unsuccessful," he said. "How can you be sure you circumvented that thing's destructive elements?"
"Because I rerouted the energy flow directly into the secondary controls and made sure to completely bypass the combat subprocessor…" She caught herself, wiping grease off her cheek. "Uh, because I gave it a lobotomy."
"... a lobotomy? In its torso?" Braska looked unconvinced.
"Look, it doesn't have a head, so no judging! Anyway, all it's programmed to do now is move, if I rewired my circuits right."
She snapped her fingers, and the Thunder spell sparked to life once more. Leaning in, she zapped the wires and held her breath. Her multiple attempts to jump-start the machina were turning its interior charred and black; she doubted she had many chances left. "C'mon, work!"
This time, the Defender managed to clumsily plant its hands onto the ground and push itself to its feet. It tottered, then regained its balance.
Squealing, she scrambled up its side and slammed the casing shut. "Yes! I've still got it!" Then she vaulted onto the machina's shoulder and did a small victory dance - more of a wriggle, really, considering the space she had to work with. It sure isn't the Machina Maw, but I'll take it!
Braska wasn't quite as willing to partake in her celebration; he eyed the towering machina as though it would try to smash them into paste at any moment. "I suppose congratulations are in order," he admitted after the Defender showed no indication of going on a rampage. "So… now that you've repaired it, what are we to do with it?"
Rikku crossed her legs and placed her chin in her palm. "Well, it's got two shoulders, doesn't it? Get up here already!"
He balked. "We are to use it as a steed?"
Frowning, Rikku tapped her cheek. "No, you're right." Braska's sudden look of relief melted as she continued. "We can't keep calling my newest creation 'It.' That sounds creepy!"
"You're riding an ancient war machina, and you think leaving it unnamed is creepy," he said dubiously. Hiking up his robes, Braska approached the Defender and began to climb it. "I would question your priorities, but - "
"I got it!" She snapped her fingers. "We'll call him, 'The Marauder!' "
Hauling himself onto the Marauder's other shoulder, Braska tried to settle himself, looking uncomfortable. "I thought you said this machina would not be able to maraud anymore."
Snorting, she reached down. "It can when I'm driving it!" Flipping a few switches, the Marauder listed to one side, then creaked into action. It placed one foot in front of the other, plodding towards the exit of the valley.
Cheering, she glanced at Braska. He looked a little green around the gills but was hanging on gamely. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."
"Yevon, I hope not!"
.x.x.x.
Rikku peeked out from under the swath of skirt she was using as a headscarf. While the wind blowing across the Calm Lands was refreshing, the sun still beat down mercilessly. Her arm was starting to ache, too; it wasn't exactly comfortable constantly leaning over to steer the Marauder with the oddly recessed controls she'd patched together.
This thing really needs pedals.
Still… one cramping arm was miles better than slugging it out on foot. Rolling her shoulder, she blew out a long breath, mind cycling back to the worry constantly skirting her thoughts. Piloting a towering machina over the Calm Lands left her with a lot of free time to think on things other than her basic survival.
Things like her too-silent companion. He wasn't mad at her anymore, at least she didn't think so, but he was acting strange. Or more correctly, he wasn't acting at all, which was pretty strange in and of itself.
Chancing a glance at him, she caught Braska staring; he quickly looked away.
She winced. What's his deal?
He'd grown accustomed to the Marauder's uneven gait; his tight-lipped tension had eased into a milder discomfort.
Discomfort, it seemed, that she was causing.
"So," she said brightly, "What's so interesting about my face?"
He blinked, the picture of innocence. "Beg pardon?"
Her arms hurt. It was hot. She didn't want to worry about Braska right now. Her patience was nonexistent. "You know, the stares?"
He acknowledged her testiness with a slight nod, knuckles tightening on his handhold. "Are you certain you are quite capable of driving this thing—"
She glared.
"—The Marauder," he corrected, "while holding a conversation?"
Maybe he's a little more nervous than he's letting on.
"Spit it out. I've noticed the way you've been dissecting me with your eyes this whole time."
Braska didn't look convinced, but before he could say anything, yelps and yowls floated up towards them from below. The Marauder had flushed out a pack of Skolls.
Annoyed at the interruption, Rikku chased a few of them down. "I get twitchy," she began conversationally, directing the machina to stomp on one of the unfortunate fiends, "when you start acting weird and don't explain yourself." Another Skoll was crushed with a wet squelch. "And when I get twitchy, I get creative. Oh, hang on a minute, one's getting away."
She twisted the controls violently, and the Marauder jolted. There was another loud crunch, then a few pyreflies drifted by Braska, who was turning a shade of green to match them.
"There," she said, shifting the machina into walking mode and leaning back. "It's sort of on auto-pilot, so we can talk as long as we don't run into a cliff. Happy now?"
"Were you always this rebellious?" he mumbled, releasing his death-grip on his perch.
"Creative," she corrected with a sniff. "And what can I say? You inspire me."
Though she'd meant it as a light-hearted jab, he took a deep breath. "Do you really… feel… nothing?"
What? She blinked. Is he still trying to win me over, even now? "What makes you think - "
Braska laid her silent with an unexpectedly harsh look. "Don't be coy," he said, curt. Then his shoulders drooped. "I apologize. But you know what I meant." He looked away. "We agreed to stop running from our shadows."
She held onto an immediate flash of anger, a disproportionate response to his simple question; after a few moments, she beat back the instinct and forced herself to think. No matter what Braska does, he always pulls a reaction out of me. First sympathy… then lust… now anger.
He seemed willing to wait out her answer.
Her fury was subsiding, replaced by dread. I don't want to talk about this. Not now, not ever, nuh-uh.
"Do I feel nothing between… us?" she clarified, cursing her mouth for moving without her brain's permission.
"I thought there was no 'us,' " he replied with a wry, defeated grin.
"There isn't!" She shivered. "I mean…"
She thought of Auron, still smarting and wary even after all their time together as a couple. They'd chosen each other, but the innocent joy of their then-budding relationship had blossomed into an almost obsessive, relentlessly physical passion… rooted in part in his jealousy and her own fear of loss. How long could a relationship built on that kind of consuming, desperate drive last before it hurt them both?
And, if they decided to keep trying, could they really start a family like this, with Braska still existing like a badly-healed scab between them?
I'll be fool enough to pick up the pieces and keep running after you, he'd said.
He didn't deserve that.
"I mean—" She fumbled for the right words. "I... I can't - "
Braska waved her down. "Yes, I know. Auron loves you with his whole being. I suspect he tolerates my behavior in your presence because he fears I will die. That cutting your ties to me will drive me over an edge and seal my fate."
"Is he wrong?" The anger returned. "Are you manipulating him? Even now?"
"No!" Braska's shocked retort was almost as violent as her question. "Is that truly what you think of me?" He sounded frustrated. "That isn't it at all. You must know what I am trying to say. What you cannot bring yourself to. We are bound by more than this Pilgrimage."
She looked down in shame. As much as she hated to admit it, Braska was right. There was something tying them together, something that even Auron could sense. It was easy to mistake it as physical attraction, but after everything that had happened, she knew better. It was deeper; it was tied to both his power and his presence, which continued to draw her in like a moth to a flame.
"I cannot quit you," he continued, more quietly. "I try, but I remain drawn to you. It is… different than how it was with Raenn. My love for her was simpler."
"Don't compare me to my aunt," she said, somewhat thankful for Braska's unusually maladroit slip back into reality. If he's trying to make me swoon, mentioning his wife sure isn't the way to do it.
"But that's the point," he insisted.
Rikku blinked. Maybe it hadn't been a slip. She shook her head. "Do you know how insulting you sound - "
"I am comparing you to her," he repeated firmly, his expression stern. "I can only base my answers on that which I know. And I know I loved my wife. More than my own life," he added. "You are… different. I yearn for you. Not physically…"
She snorted.
"Well, not only physically," he amended, somewhat sheepish. "I wish to be near you. I wish to continue to see you grow, as you have since you began this journey with us." He words grew more intense. "I love watching you reshape yourself as you redefine your own boundaries. I feel a connection to you that I cannot explain. And I know it isn't normal, or healthy. But neither can I sever it, no matter how I try."
Rikku's whole face was turning bright red; she almost blurted out, "But no touching!"
Thankfully he was on the wrong side of the Marauder; he couldn't have reached for her even if he wanted to, not without releasing his grip on his seat's handle.
"You can't be serious!" She spluttered. "Dropping a bomb like that on me when Auron's not around? That's practically like a second declaration of war on him!"
To her surprise, Braska rolled his eyes; it looked almost foreign on him. I guess I'm rubbing off on him a little too, she thought, surprised.
"I don't expect you to answer my feelings. I am actually trying to work through my own," he added with a note of sarcasm. "Forgive me for being unable to discuss my feelings with anyone except their object without a risk of bodily injury."
"You're awfully confident about that," she shot back, but without any fire.
"As a complicit party, it would be akin to hurting yourself," he told her smugly.
Somehow, his words, though irritating, relieved her. He'd broken the tension building between them on his own this time.
"I am not proud of myself. I cannot explain this betrayal of my first love, or my lack of self-control." Subdued, Braska looked away from her, his face drawn and worried. "But I only wished to know… am I truly alone in this? Am I deluding myself when I imagine a connection between us?" He paused, and the wry smile returned. "Am I really the bastard you believe me to be?"
"... Jecht wasn't supposed to tell you that," she mumbled, embarrassed. Well, when he said he wasn't running, he sure as hell meant it. Discomfort itched at her shoulder blades; could she lie her way out of Braska's questions?
"Who are you to me?" Braska mused aloud, looking at her, yet through her at the same time.
I wonder… if this is how Auron felt, every time I looked at him and saw his future self? She shivered. I guess turnabout is fair play. "Hey," she said, unable to withstand his abstracted stare. "Maybe you shouldn't think about this stuff too hard." She swallowed. "Would it really be so bad to keep things the way they are now?"
A ghost of a smile haunted Braska's face. "Perhaps not for you. Such a spoiled, selfish princess you are."
Spoiled? Selfish-? Wait a minute! "Like you're one to talk!" she managed, half-rising out of her seat.
"I can recognize the traits," he said, ignoring her fluster. "I do share them, after all."
"You're insane, you know that?" she muttered, sinking back down towards the Marauder's controls to correct their course. "I don't even know how you manage to get me so worked up half of the time."
"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," he murmured, and she clenched her teeth.
"Fine," she said shrilly. "Fine, alright? Yes, there's still something going on between us. No, I don't know what it is anymore either. All I know is that it's slowly driving Auron nuts and I hate that I can't give him a solid answer about what's happening." She sucked in a deep breath. "He wants to start a family, I think. With me. That was a big step for him."
"You should, after all this is over," Braska said after a moment. "You should name one of your children after me."
"Jerk," she said reflexively, then stifled a laugh. "But you're right. We should."
.x.x.x.
Their journey to the Monster Arena was uneventful - the Marauder quickly trampled most difficulties underfoot. Even Braska seemed steadier on Rikku's pet recycling project.
Now, however, as they stopped before the entrance to the Arena, she was the one turning into the bundle of nerves.
"Why in Yevon's name are you so tense?" He looked over her in concern. "You did nothing wrong on this journey. All joking aside, I am quite sure Auron -"
"I'm not worried about Auron!" she exploded. She grabbed her head and cringed. "It's Trema, okay? I don't want to see Trema."
"Well, I've not heard much of Sir Trema before. That is more Auron's field of expertise," he said slowly. "I have heard he is something of a traditionalist, but he has worked extensively with the crusaders before. I gather you have a low opinion of the man, but are you certain he is so intractable that he'd refuse to meet with an Al Bhed?"
"No, it's not him, it's me." She paused and bit her lip. "Well, it's totally him, but I mean I don't want to meet him."
Braska's gaze sharpened. "What is it that you're trying to hide?"
She grimaced and stuck out her tongue. "Nuh-uh, not this time. My lips are zipped!"
He sent her a look that was dangerously close to infringing on Auron's trademark glare. Apparently she wasn't the only one Braska had been learning from lately, either.
She squirmed under it – it was shading towards solemn now – but managed to stick to her plan. "Seriously, this is for your own safety. Don't start anything with Trema. And for machina's sake, don't try to feel him out!"
He smirked. "I'll have you know I am quite talented at feeling people out."
She pinned him with her best menacing glare. "I mean it. He's older than you. Like, Maechen old, but he still has all his cookies in the jar, too."
"Far be it from me to discriminate against the elderly-"
"Stop fooling around!"
Something about the shrill note her voice hit managed to shut Braska up; he tilted his head and frowned. "You're quite serious, aren't you? What does this man do to you in the future?"
"I told you, it's me, not him," she repeated. Sighing, she shrugged. Well, if he wants the truth… "We killed him, okay? Me and my friends sent him off to the Farplane." Which wasn't a total lie. "He was past due anyhow," she added in a small voice, catching sight of Braska's horrified expression. Yunie and me aren't a pair of murdering lunatics, I swear!
"...I admit, not an answer I expected," Braska said faintly. "Either way, we may be better off parking your creation out of view of the Arena as well. Sir Trema may not take kindly to this excessive use of machina."
"Bingo! I'll just stay with our ride! You know… so nobody tries to steal it."
"Ah. Because there are just so many people gallivanting about the Calm Lands, yes?" He gave the Marauder an uncertain pat. "I am fairly sure our vehicle can defend itself adequately against any would-be thieves."
She squinted at him. "You're sounding a lot like you still want me to go in anyway. Weren't you listening?"
Braska's smile was a little too bright. "Yes, but Auron may believe you're hiding from him if you don't accompany me. And I may not survive that experience."
"But-!" She fell silent as Braska removed his headdress and carefully extracted the circlet from the loose swaths of fabric.
He held the long hood out towards her. "Find some acceptably fashionable way to cover your most defining features with this. You're quite creative, I'm sure you'll manage."
"...Thanks," she mumbled, grabbing the fabric. After considering it, she pulled off her own makeshift scarf and began to wrap it gingerly around her head, tucking her braids out of sight. After further consideration, she gathered the loose waterfall of cloth from the hood off her shoulders and wrapped it around her neck, trying to cover as much of her face as possible.
The material was soft, tickling her nose; she inhaled deeply and was inundated by an unfamiliar scent. A hint of something spicy; incense, perhaps, or a cologne wafted by, drowned out by the muskier scent of sweat and their travels outside of the comforts of civilization.
This… is way too personal, she thought uncomfortably, pulling the fabric away from her nose.
She froze when Braska's fingers came into view; he reached towards her and tucked a few more strands of loose hair beneath the fabric. Then his eyes traveled across her face, searching. "You missed some," he said before nodding to himself. "It would be better to hide your eyes as well, but this'll do in a pinch."
"Right," she squeaked, reaching under the fabric and pulling up her goggles. Either he hadn't noticed the flush staining her cheeks, or he was being diplomatic about it. Embarrassed, she adjusted her hood - and was once again flooded with Braska's scent.
Just kill me now, before Auron does, she thought helplessly.
"Shall we?" Braska asked, and she nodded, placing the Marauder on standby and scrambling down. He landed somewhat less gracefully next to her. Without the benefit of his massive headdress, she could see how uneasy he looked.
Maybe I'm not the only one anxious about meeting Auron right now. It was a small comfort, seeing Braska so uneasy after they way he'd pressured her earlier. She was sure if Auron got upset with either of them, Braska would die first.
"You look nervous," she said as they set off towards the Arena. It was unmanned; seeing as how Trema wasn't there, it meant that Auron and Jecht were most likely in the middle of battling something nasty.
"I am, somewhat," Braska admitted. "The last time we traveled alone together, I nearly tore our group apart. I'm loathe to experience that again." Then he smiled, relaxing minutely. "I do hope I comported myself with more decorum this time."
Rikku bit the inside of her cheek. "For the most part, you did, actually." Then she scowled at him. "Although you ogled my chest when I cut your hair. That wasn't very nice."
Braska coughed lightly. "I was simply admiring the local scenery."
She glared at him, then shrugged, taking another deep breath of Braska's aromatic headdress. "And you know? Maybe if I can figure out a way to wash my hair before Auron smells me, no one will have to die today."
The easy smile fled from his face. "I hope you will at least attempt to bathe before engaging in any intimacy with him."
"Oh look, I think I can hear them fighting over there," she said, taking a page out of Auron's book and trotting ahead.
"Rikku?" Braska hurried after her, a note of panic in his voice. "I really must apologize for my behavior earlier! From the bottom of my heart. It won't happen again! Rikku? Wait!"