Title: Gratitude
I have succumbed to the lure of a crackpairing bunny. Woe is me. It's WakkaxShelinda
Title: Gratitude
When he saw her again, he stopped in surprise. Not because he was overwhelmed by her beauty or some emotion from an epic romance, but because she was there. And it took him by surprise, so he stood and stared at her as the people of the Besaid marketplace carried on with their lives in the distance between them and around them, unaware of the two people who had stopped and looked at each other.
Wakka made his way over with a nonchalance that was slightly forced. "Whadda ya doing here?" he asked, his voice casual with some effort as he tried to conceal his shock. She looked at him, and her face crumpled as she tried to contain some great emotion.
Bewildered and concerned, he helped her up.
~ ~
"I don't owe you for this," Shelinda said, her face simultaneously sullen, afraid, and angered. Her hands, small and pale, yet coarsened by some had work, bunched in the green fabric of what had once been the uniform of a devout missionary. Her reddish hair had grown much longer, and its tanged, coarse state was made more noticeable without her hat, that hair which had once been smooth and shining. The hems of all her clothing were rough, with stray threads of fabric determinedly working their way out, and rips, however neat their mending, were evident in the fading cloth.
Wakka handed her a cool drink with a mixture of amusement and pity. Sullenness did not fit Shelinda's face, and the girl was not pretty, a fact made only more evident by her expression and her rumpled state. Her face was pinched, and tired, and the serene expression that had once characterized her, enhanced her features, had been wiped away by the cares of time.
The wonder of the Eternal Calm, Wakka decided wryly, had not touched everyone.
"We don't have debts here in Besaid, ya?" he said lightheartedly. "Just drink. My aunt, she made it, would be insulted if you didn't." He imbued the last comment with a teasing note, but Shelinda stared at him blandly from shadowed eyes. He fidgeted, uncomfortable, before sitting down.
"If anyone owes a debt, it's you," said Shelinda, ignoring his feeble attempt at humor. She spoke too quickly, in a breathy, accusing tone, as if afraid she would be cut off before she could say what she needed. She leaned forward, disregarding the drink in her right hand. "You and your, your summoner, your guardians, all of you. You took away my life, what I lived for, all I believed in, everthing that meant something, and you killed, you destroyed it. The world shows no mercy to people like me, whose crime was believing what they believed in too, just in public sight. Your Lady may spout grand words about forgiveness and, and--and that shit, but they just smile at her and wait till she turns away to throw stones." Her voice rose, grew faster, and became hysterical. "You and your damn Eternal Calm!"
Wakka turned away, his face carefully blank as turmoil rose within him. Then he turned back and stood up in a fast movement, gripping her wrists. "Would ya rather we still slaved under fake priests?" he demanded of her, his voice soft but fierce. She stared up at him, mute and unmoved. Deep in her eyes, he could see a weary fear. "The people of Besaid still shun me, because I worshipped Yevon truly, even though I helped bring him down. Do ya think you are the only one, who has suffered because Yevon is gone?"
Shelinda stared at him, and though her eyes remained angry and unyielding, sobs began to rack her body and tears rolled down her face. He let her go, and left the tent.
~ ~
He arranged for her to have her own house, though she didn't thank him for it. She abandoned her ragged garments, and dressed in the manner of the Besaid women. She carefully avoided him and spoke little to others, isolated by sideways glances directed at her, never quite trusting the young woman. Yevon's bride, some of the women called her when they were in Wakka's hearing. Yevon's whore, when they were not.
The temple of Yevon stood no longer as a tribute to him, but as a memorial of those summoners who had died for him and the salvation of Spira so long ago. Their statues stood in solemn rows, glaring down at any who entered in a sorrowful yet stern reminder of their deaths. Though people all around the world began to refer to them as the Hundred Little Gods, most preferred to avoid the reminders of Sin. The world wanted to forget the scourge that had tormented them for one thousand years, that had forced hundreds into a futile attempt to end the cycle.
Shelinda often spent hours, walking down the rows, lighting incense, and touching the hands of the statues.
~ ~
The town was in an unusual flurry of excitement, because the Lady Yuna was returning to Besaid. Though she frequently returned to her home, her visits were often brief and occasionally she was too weary to meet anyone but a her closest companions and sometimes only Lulu and Wakka, the only two of her guardians who remained in Besaid (Kimahri lived at Mount Gagazet as a tribute to his lost tribe and often was not seen for months at a time). Rikku, who remained the epitome of smiles cheer, accompanied Yuna in her travels around Spira, though she was occasionally struck by fits of melancholy. However, this visit was to be a month long, and the people of Besaid, delighted to contradict the Lady Summoner's requests, were rapidly arranging festivals and feasts.
Shelinda aided, in her quiet, detached way. Though she looked decidedly awkward, hovering on the outside of a gaggle of women as they simultaneously kneaded dough and shared humorous stories of Yuna's youth, she managed to smile shyly when they laughed, though they and Shelinda never addressed each other. Wakka, one of those who took great pleasure in discomfitting the Lady Summoner, looked on with approval as he and other men of the village carried large wooden tables to the rough dirt ground on the emptied marketplace. Shelinda wouldn't associate with the women of Besaid, but they would tolerate her.
After the arrangements for the feast were done and Wakka had returned to his tent, he heard a soft voice calling to him. When he called for them to come in, Shelinda entered. Wakka looked at her curiously--she had not spoken to him, had gone out of her way to avoid him, since she had first arrived in Besaid.
"Wakka," Shelinda said, raising her chin in an attempt to disguise extreme nervousness, though she failed to keep her eyes focused on him, "I would--would you thank the Lady Summoner for me?"
Wakka looked at her for a moment, surprised by her nervous pride, her unwillingness to reveal weakness.
"Yes," he said.
~End~
Title: Gratitude
When he saw her again, he stopped in surprise. Not because he was overwhelmed by her beauty or some emotion from an epic romance, but because she was there. And it took him by surprise, so he stood and stared at her as the people of the Besaid marketplace carried on with their lives in the distance between them and around them, unaware of the two people who had stopped and looked at each other.
Wakka made his way over with a nonchalance that was slightly forced. "Whadda ya doing here?" he asked, his voice casual with some effort as he tried to conceal his shock. She looked at him, and her face crumpled as she tried to contain some great emotion.
Bewildered and concerned, he helped her up.
~ ~
"I don't owe you for this," Shelinda said, her face simultaneously sullen, afraid, and angered. Her hands, small and pale, yet coarsened by some had work, bunched in the green fabric of what had once been the uniform of a devout missionary. Her reddish hair had grown much longer, and its tanged, coarse state was made more noticeable without her hat, that hair which had once been smooth and shining. The hems of all her clothing were rough, with stray threads of fabric determinedly working their way out, and rips, however neat their mending, were evident in the fading cloth.
Wakka handed her a cool drink with a mixture of amusement and pity. Sullenness did not fit Shelinda's face, and the girl was not pretty, a fact made only more evident by her expression and her rumpled state. Her face was pinched, and tired, and the serene expression that had once characterized her, enhanced her features, had been wiped away by the cares of time.
The wonder of the Eternal Calm, Wakka decided wryly, had not touched everyone.
"We don't have debts here in Besaid, ya?" he said lightheartedly. "Just drink. My aunt, she made it, would be insulted if you didn't." He imbued the last comment with a teasing note, but Shelinda stared at him blandly from shadowed eyes. He fidgeted, uncomfortable, before sitting down.
"If anyone owes a debt, it's you," said Shelinda, ignoring his feeble attempt at humor. She spoke too quickly, in a breathy, accusing tone, as if afraid she would be cut off before she could say what she needed. She leaned forward, disregarding the drink in her right hand. "You and your, your summoner, your guardians, all of you. You took away my life, what I lived for, all I believed in, everthing that meant something, and you killed, you destroyed it. The world shows no mercy to people like me, whose crime was believing what they believed in too, just in public sight. Your Lady may spout grand words about forgiveness and, and--and that shit, but they just smile at her and wait till she turns away to throw stones." Her voice rose, grew faster, and became hysterical. "You and your damn Eternal Calm!"
Wakka turned away, his face carefully blank as turmoil rose within him. Then he turned back and stood up in a fast movement, gripping her wrists. "Would ya rather we still slaved under fake priests?" he demanded of her, his voice soft but fierce. She stared up at him, mute and unmoved. Deep in her eyes, he could see a weary fear. "The people of Besaid still shun me, because I worshipped Yevon truly, even though I helped bring him down. Do ya think you are the only one, who has suffered because Yevon is gone?"
Shelinda stared at him, and though her eyes remained angry and unyielding, sobs began to rack her body and tears rolled down her face. He let her go, and left the tent.
~ ~
He arranged for her to have her own house, though she didn't thank him for it. She abandoned her ragged garments, and dressed in the manner of the Besaid women. She carefully avoided him and spoke little to others, isolated by sideways glances directed at her, never quite trusting the young woman. Yevon's bride, some of the women called her when they were in Wakka's hearing. Yevon's whore, when they were not.
The temple of Yevon stood no longer as a tribute to him, but as a memorial of those summoners who had died for him and the salvation of Spira so long ago. Their statues stood in solemn rows, glaring down at any who entered in a sorrowful yet stern reminder of their deaths. Though people all around the world began to refer to them as the Hundred Little Gods, most preferred to avoid the reminders of Sin. The world wanted to forget the scourge that had tormented them for one thousand years, that had forced hundreds into a futile attempt to end the cycle.
Shelinda often spent hours, walking down the rows, lighting incense, and touching the hands of the statues.
~ ~
The town was in an unusual flurry of excitement, because the Lady Yuna was returning to Besaid. Though she frequently returned to her home, her visits were often brief and occasionally she was too weary to meet anyone but a her closest companions and sometimes only Lulu and Wakka, the only two of her guardians who remained in Besaid (Kimahri lived at Mount Gagazet as a tribute to his lost tribe and often was not seen for months at a time). Rikku, who remained the epitome of smiles cheer, accompanied Yuna in her travels around Spira, though she was occasionally struck by fits of melancholy. However, this visit was to be a month long, and the people of Besaid, delighted to contradict the Lady Summoner's requests, were rapidly arranging festivals and feasts.
Shelinda aided, in her quiet, detached way. Though she looked decidedly awkward, hovering on the outside of a gaggle of women as they simultaneously kneaded dough and shared humorous stories of Yuna's youth, she managed to smile shyly when they laughed, though they and Shelinda never addressed each other. Wakka, one of those who took great pleasure in discomfitting the Lady Summoner, looked on with approval as he and other men of the village carried large wooden tables to the rough dirt ground on the emptied marketplace. Shelinda wouldn't associate with the women of Besaid, but they would tolerate her.
After the arrangements for the feast were done and Wakka had returned to his tent, he heard a soft voice calling to him. When he called for them to come in, Shelinda entered. Wakka looked at her curiously--she had not spoken to him, had gone out of her way to avoid him, since she had first arrived in Besaid.
"Wakka," Shelinda said, raising her chin in an attempt to disguise extreme nervousness, though she failed to keep her eyes focused on him, "I would--would you thank the Lady Summoner for me?"
Wakka looked at her for a moment, surprised by her nervous pride, her unwillingness to reveal weakness.
"Yes," he said.
~End~