A Moment of Stillness (FFX, Auron/Yuna, PG-13, for churched.
Title: A Moment of Stillness.
For: Jes/churched.
Medium: Fic.
Request: “Tell me about my father.”
Fandom: FFX.
Pairing: Auron/Yuna.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13. Some angst.
Feedback: I love critique that is not bashing. :)
Spoilers: Spoilers for the whole game.
Word Count: 2,051
Summary: On a cold night almost at the end of the longest journey of their lives, a Guardian and a Summoner share a moment of stillness.
A/N: Thank you to the lovely, awesome mods for so much understanding and support! And I really hope you like this gift, dear recipient; it’s my first in this fandom that I’m actually sharing with the world. ♥
Mt.Gagazet was cold, but not as cold as he so vividly remembered. In general, he tried to keep most of his memories from his last visit to the cold barren peaks put away safely at the back of his mind. They were the reason he was alive, granted, but they were difficult and painful, and he couldn't show any of that to his companions. Even Yuna's happy exterior had begun to waver, though he knew he was the only one who could tell, and that only because he hadn’t refused to see it.
Yuna's guardians, her family - Lulu, Wakka, Kimahri - had to believe that after everything was said and done, Yuna had made peace with her destiny, that she wanted this, had come to terms with this. Tidus's and Rikku's eyes carried stubborn hope. They didn't intend to let Yuna die. But even they, sometimes, unbeknown to themselves and when no one was looking, got a look in their eyes that Auron knew came from the thoughts of "What if it didn't work?" and "What would I do when - no, if - Yuna were to die?". Their devotion to the young Summoner and their will not to lose her was fierce, but fear and despair, as Auron had learned in his own lifetime, were powerful emotions that, even if for a moment, were capable of overpowering all.
He could sense, even being outside the cave and with his back turned to it, that she was awake. Nights were difficult for her, and he wished he could make them easier as much as he once wished he could do the same for Braska. At nights, when she didn’t have to smile and keep her head up, he knew she thought about the things and people she was leaving behind. The million “what if’s” ran through her mind. The pain and fear found her in those quiet moments of unrest - the pain and fear of a child carrying the world on her shoulders.
They all envied her her resolution, her dedication, and her unrelenting strength. Auron had found that the people of Spira ceased to look at Summoners as people - young men and women who had families and friends and dreams. They viewed them as something higher, something beyond human weakness. Summoners were the saviours of the people’s dreams, friends and families, like statues or Aeons to shower with gratitude and adoration and then forget in the overwhelming relief of safety from Sin.
Auron knew how wrong they were, and begrudged them this. He despised the selfishness of human nature that allowed people to feel like their so-called gratitude could alleviate the sense of guilt of sacrificing a beautiful person like Braska for them. A beautiful person like Yuna. Yuna had strength, yes, and courage beyond her years, but the only real difference between her and every other seventeen-year-old girl was that she could smile through her fear and her pain and hide the fact that as anyone, she was afraid of death. She would choose life over death if she had a choice, but even though Yuna had appeared to have chosen her own path, Auron knew that her fate was sealed the moment Braska defeated Sin. Perhaps even the moment he said goodbye to his family and set out on his own pilgrimage.
She was standing at the mouth of the cave now, unsure but determined, as usual. The fire by which he sat on one of his nightly patrols was going out and he threw another log on it before turning his head slightly in her direction.
“What is it, Yuna?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He heard her take a few light steps forward and stop right behind him.
“You should sleep. We still have a way to go, and we leave at the crack of dawn.”
A badly constrained sigh. “We’re almost at Zanarkand, are we not?”
He nodded and she took the final step and sat down next to him, drawing her knees to her chest. He knew now she wasn’t going back, and knew equally well why she had come to join him. Pain was a foreign concept to him by now, but he felt a sharp pang in his chest, where his heart used to beat. She had come to him for comfort. The silent, knowing, accepting comfort only he could provide her by not offering it. But for all his strength and knowledge, he didn’t know how to comfort her. He hadn’t known how to comfort Braska, either, but his friend never needed it as much as Yuna seemed to need it at that moment.
“It is strange, is it not, Sir Auron?” she asked quietly with a smile. He grunted in question. “I speak of the fact that you have gotten my father this far, and now you have seen me here, as well.”
“Braska was a friend. You were a promise I’ve made to him. A promise I intend to keep.”
She surveyed him with wide, thankful eyes, but he could sense that for everything he believed about Summoners being people just like everyone else, he knew Yuna was different - better. She seemed innocent and pure, but behind those eyes she perhaps wasn’t a child anymore. She had wisdom he never expected her to have when he first met her, and he knew immediately that it wasn’t because she was a Summoner. It was because she was Yuna. She had always been like that. Braska had told him, but Auron had always assumed that all fathers thought the world of their offspring. But Braska had been right, and Auron wished he could tell him that. His daughter was indeed one of the most astounding young women Auron had ever met. Was ever going to meet.
“Tell me about my father.”
Her eyes were glistening but she wasn’t crying, and he could see, sense, that she was cold. Without a word he shifted closer and quickly shrugged out of his coat and flung it over her shoulders. He expected her to refuse but she did not. With a smile, she pulled it tighter around herself and breathed in deeply, as if inhaling his scent. Then, to his surprise, she leaned her head and body against his shoulder.
It was the biggest, most intimate gesture that she had ever allowed herself around him. She had always referred to him as “Sir”, and treated him with as much daughterly and student-like respect as he knew she would’ve treated her own father with if he was alive. But that moment felt different. It was as if momentarily all titles and walls between them came down and the world stood still as they stared into the dying fire and listened to the silence.
“He was like you in many ways,” Auron started quietly. He hated how his voice felt out of place and almost invasive in their perfect bubble. “He smiled, he laughed, he kept us going and strong when it was really supposed to be the other way around.”
“I’m afraid I am not half as brave as my father was.” There was a smile in her voice, but she sounded sad.
“You will not know that until you’ve reached the end.”
He wanted to tell her that she was stronger, but it would be an empty, unfair compliment, even if he felt it was true. Braska, on his journey, had not faced as many challenges as Yuna had faced on hers, but Auron didn’t want to make her feel too confident yet. She still had to have a goal in mind, and if being as brave as her father would be something that would keep her going and give her the final push when the time came, then he would allow her that strength.
“Was he afraid?” she asked after a long silence.
“Yes.”
Yuna startled. He could feel her tense against him. The stories told of Braska as a never-fearing, never-wavering saint-of-a-man who didn’t know of fear, and though Auron hoped Yuna was too wise to actually believe that, he could feel she didn’t expect him to be so frankly honest, either.
“You have to know he was afraid, terrified, in pain,” he added, words coming with difficulty as he said what he’d known all along out loud for the first time in his life, “because he was a human being just like you. He was brave and he was strong - braver and stronger than many out there - but you shouldn’t remember him that way. He wasn’t a great super-human, ascended higher than the rest of us. He was a man who loved his family, who loved his friends, who was afraid of death, and who was capable of laughing, crying, bleeding, and feeling just like the rest of us.”
She drew a shaky breath and he realized she was crying. Quietly, politely, she was crying for the first time in front of him - the man she tried to appear the strongest in front of.
When she shifted back and looked up at him, he couldn’t look away. There were many things he knew he had to tell her - to stop crying, to be strong, to stop being a baby when the circumstances simply didn’t allow her any weakness, but he couldn’t form any of that. His tough love and lack of sympathy was what usually kept the group strong and confident, but everything was different in that moment. Feeling like he had just a few minutes ago, he felt like time stood still for them. That both of them needed a moment in time where they could be as they were, openly feel as they did, and be everything they needed to be but couldn’t let themselves at any other time.
“I want to remember him like that,” Yuna whispered, her tear-filled eyes still fixed on Auron’s. “It’s hard when I hear the praise and see the statues. It feels almost as if... as if I’d never actually even known him - like every memory I have of spending time with him playing or reading was just a dream. Thank you for reminding me.”
She leaned forward quite suddenly, but he knew he must have leaned down at the same time, because her lips couldn’t have reached his otherwise. Her kiss was salty and unsure, her lips trembling underneath his as he brought her against his chest and took from her the comfort he needed, knowing that she was doing the same.
It wasn’t exactly a romantic thing. Thinking back on it, he wouldn’t be able to explain it at all. He knew that it should have felt like a, terrible mistake, like something wrong and forbidden and sinful, almost, but it didn’t feel like any of that. She wasn’t offering or asking for love. It was a moment that happened in their time and their world, that short interim when time stopped and they escaped into a different dimension that had no blame, common sense, fear or guilt.
The moment he let her go and she got up and left, her hand resting on his shoulder for a moment before she escaped back into the cave with his coat still wrapped tightly around her. He sat, staring at the still-dying fire, listening to the growls of the creatures that were getting braver as the fire diminished, and circled him as he sat, unmoving. In a moment, he would produce his sword and go back to being Sir Auron, one of the most respected Guardians Spira had ever seen. Then he would raise the company and they would continue their journey, almost at an end now. Yuna would smile at him in reassurance to show him that that she knew that everything that had happened between them was beyond discussion, explanation, or understanding. Nothing was going to change.
In a moment, everything would start moving again, and continue moving until he could finally allow himself to take his well-deserved rest, but for now he was still wrapped in a protected cloak of comfort and stillness. And he knew that if the Farplane indeed provided the Sent with their chosen moment of happiness and peace, Yuna had just given him one that, when the time came, he would choose to be basked in forever.
For: Jes/churched.
Medium: Fic.
Request: “Tell me about my father.”
Fandom: FFX.
Pairing: Auron/Yuna.
Rating/Warnings: PG-13. Some angst.
Feedback: I love critique that is not bashing. :)
Spoilers: Spoilers for the whole game.
Word Count: 2,051
Summary: On a cold night almost at the end of the longest journey of their lives, a Guardian and a Summoner share a moment of stillness.
A/N: Thank you to the lovely, awesome mods for so much understanding and support! And I really hope you like this gift, dear recipient; it’s my first in this fandom that I’m actually sharing with the world. ♥
Mt.Gagazet was cold, but not as cold as he so vividly remembered. In general, he tried to keep most of his memories from his last visit to the cold barren peaks put away safely at the back of his mind. They were the reason he was alive, granted, but they were difficult and painful, and he couldn't show any of that to his companions. Even Yuna's happy exterior had begun to waver, though he knew he was the only one who could tell, and that only because he hadn’t refused to see it.
Yuna's guardians, her family - Lulu, Wakka, Kimahri - had to believe that after everything was said and done, Yuna had made peace with her destiny, that she wanted this, had come to terms with this. Tidus's and Rikku's eyes carried stubborn hope. They didn't intend to let Yuna die. But even they, sometimes, unbeknown to themselves and when no one was looking, got a look in their eyes that Auron knew came from the thoughts of "What if it didn't work?" and "What would I do when - no, if - Yuna were to die?". Their devotion to the young Summoner and their will not to lose her was fierce, but fear and despair, as Auron had learned in his own lifetime, were powerful emotions that, even if for a moment, were capable of overpowering all.
He could sense, even being outside the cave and with his back turned to it, that she was awake. Nights were difficult for her, and he wished he could make them easier as much as he once wished he could do the same for Braska. At nights, when she didn’t have to smile and keep her head up, he knew she thought about the things and people she was leaving behind. The million “what if’s” ran through her mind. The pain and fear found her in those quiet moments of unrest - the pain and fear of a child carrying the world on her shoulders.
They all envied her her resolution, her dedication, and her unrelenting strength. Auron had found that the people of Spira ceased to look at Summoners as people - young men and women who had families and friends and dreams. They viewed them as something higher, something beyond human weakness. Summoners were the saviours of the people’s dreams, friends and families, like statues or Aeons to shower with gratitude and adoration and then forget in the overwhelming relief of safety from Sin.
Auron knew how wrong they were, and begrudged them this. He despised the selfishness of human nature that allowed people to feel like their so-called gratitude could alleviate the sense of guilt of sacrificing a beautiful person like Braska for them. A beautiful person like Yuna. Yuna had strength, yes, and courage beyond her years, but the only real difference between her and every other seventeen-year-old girl was that she could smile through her fear and her pain and hide the fact that as anyone, she was afraid of death. She would choose life over death if she had a choice, but even though Yuna had appeared to have chosen her own path, Auron knew that her fate was sealed the moment Braska defeated Sin. Perhaps even the moment he said goodbye to his family and set out on his own pilgrimage.
She was standing at the mouth of the cave now, unsure but determined, as usual. The fire by which he sat on one of his nightly patrols was going out and he threw another log on it before turning his head slightly in her direction.
“What is it, Yuna?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” He heard her take a few light steps forward and stop right behind him.
“You should sleep. We still have a way to go, and we leave at the crack of dawn.”
A badly constrained sigh. “We’re almost at Zanarkand, are we not?”
He nodded and she took the final step and sat down next to him, drawing her knees to her chest. He knew now she wasn’t going back, and knew equally well why she had come to join him. Pain was a foreign concept to him by now, but he felt a sharp pang in his chest, where his heart used to beat. She had come to him for comfort. The silent, knowing, accepting comfort only he could provide her by not offering it. But for all his strength and knowledge, he didn’t know how to comfort her. He hadn’t known how to comfort Braska, either, but his friend never needed it as much as Yuna seemed to need it at that moment.
“It is strange, is it not, Sir Auron?” she asked quietly with a smile. He grunted in question. “I speak of the fact that you have gotten my father this far, and now you have seen me here, as well.”
“Braska was a friend. You were a promise I’ve made to him. A promise I intend to keep.”
She surveyed him with wide, thankful eyes, but he could sense that for everything he believed about Summoners being people just like everyone else, he knew Yuna was different - better. She seemed innocent and pure, but behind those eyes she perhaps wasn’t a child anymore. She had wisdom he never expected her to have when he first met her, and he knew immediately that it wasn’t because she was a Summoner. It was because she was Yuna. She had always been like that. Braska had told him, but Auron had always assumed that all fathers thought the world of their offspring. But Braska had been right, and Auron wished he could tell him that. His daughter was indeed one of the most astounding young women Auron had ever met. Was ever going to meet.
“Tell me about my father.”
Her eyes were glistening but she wasn’t crying, and he could see, sense, that she was cold. Without a word he shifted closer and quickly shrugged out of his coat and flung it over her shoulders. He expected her to refuse but she did not. With a smile, she pulled it tighter around herself and breathed in deeply, as if inhaling his scent. Then, to his surprise, she leaned her head and body against his shoulder.
It was the biggest, most intimate gesture that she had ever allowed herself around him. She had always referred to him as “Sir”, and treated him with as much daughterly and student-like respect as he knew she would’ve treated her own father with if he was alive. But that moment felt different. It was as if momentarily all titles and walls between them came down and the world stood still as they stared into the dying fire and listened to the silence.
“He was like you in many ways,” Auron started quietly. He hated how his voice felt out of place and almost invasive in their perfect bubble. “He smiled, he laughed, he kept us going and strong when it was really supposed to be the other way around.”
“I’m afraid I am not half as brave as my father was.” There was a smile in her voice, but she sounded sad.
“You will not know that until you’ve reached the end.”
He wanted to tell her that she was stronger, but it would be an empty, unfair compliment, even if he felt it was true. Braska, on his journey, had not faced as many challenges as Yuna had faced on hers, but Auron didn’t want to make her feel too confident yet. She still had to have a goal in mind, and if being as brave as her father would be something that would keep her going and give her the final push when the time came, then he would allow her that strength.
“Was he afraid?” she asked after a long silence.
“Yes.”
Yuna startled. He could feel her tense against him. The stories told of Braska as a never-fearing, never-wavering saint-of-a-man who didn’t know of fear, and though Auron hoped Yuna was too wise to actually believe that, he could feel she didn’t expect him to be so frankly honest, either.
“You have to know he was afraid, terrified, in pain,” he added, words coming with difficulty as he said what he’d known all along out loud for the first time in his life, “because he was a human being just like you. He was brave and he was strong - braver and stronger than many out there - but you shouldn’t remember him that way. He wasn’t a great super-human, ascended higher than the rest of us. He was a man who loved his family, who loved his friends, who was afraid of death, and who was capable of laughing, crying, bleeding, and feeling just like the rest of us.”
She drew a shaky breath and he realized she was crying. Quietly, politely, she was crying for the first time in front of him - the man she tried to appear the strongest in front of.
When she shifted back and looked up at him, he couldn’t look away. There were many things he knew he had to tell her - to stop crying, to be strong, to stop being a baby when the circumstances simply didn’t allow her any weakness, but he couldn’t form any of that. His tough love and lack of sympathy was what usually kept the group strong and confident, but everything was different in that moment. Feeling like he had just a few minutes ago, he felt like time stood still for them. That both of them needed a moment in time where they could be as they were, openly feel as they did, and be everything they needed to be but couldn’t let themselves at any other time.
“I want to remember him like that,” Yuna whispered, her tear-filled eyes still fixed on Auron’s. “It’s hard when I hear the praise and see the statues. It feels almost as if... as if I’d never actually even known him - like every memory I have of spending time with him playing or reading was just a dream. Thank you for reminding me.”
She leaned forward quite suddenly, but he knew he must have leaned down at the same time, because her lips couldn’t have reached his otherwise. Her kiss was salty and unsure, her lips trembling underneath his as he brought her against his chest and took from her the comfort he needed, knowing that she was doing the same.
It wasn’t exactly a romantic thing. Thinking back on it, he wouldn’t be able to explain it at all. He knew that it should have felt like a, terrible mistake, like something wrong and forbidden and sinful, almost, but it didn’t feel like any of that. She wasn’t offering or asking for love. It was a moment that happened in their time and their world, that short interim when time stopped and they escaped into a different dimension that had no blame, common sense, fear or guilt.
The moment he let her go and she got up and left, her hand resting on his shoulder for a moment before she escaped back into the cave with his coat still wrapped tightly around her. He sat, staring at the still-dying fire, listening to the growls of the creatures that were getting braver as the fire diminished, and circled him as he sat, unmoving. In a moment, he would produce his sword and go back to being Sir Auron, one of the most respected Guardians Spira had ever seen. Then he would raise the company and they would continue their journey, almost at an end now. Yuna would smile at him in reassurance to show him that that she knew that everything that had happened between them was beyond discussion, explanation, or understanding. Nothing was going to change.
In a moment, everything would start moving again, and continue moving until he could finally allow himself to take his well-deserved rest, but for now he was still wrapped in a protected cloak of comfort and stillness. And he knew that if the Farplane indeed provided the Sent with their chosen moment of happiness and peace, Yuna had just given him one that, when the time came, he would choose to be basked in forever.