Final Fantasy X (Auron/Braska)
Title: The One Who Goes
Author: Emerald Embers
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst
Wordcount: 1162
Braska had made several promises to himself between the start of his pilgrimage and his arrival in the outskirts of Zanarkand, some of which he'd kept, some of which he'd broken or forgotten. His Al Bhed had improved and he'd learned how to fish, and he'd made a few spheres for his daughter when she got older. Most of what he'd neglected to do he chose to ignore, no longer wishing to dwell on what could have been.
Even so, there were moments.
Auron's silhouette was barely visible in the dark of the tent, but Braska knew his young guardian well enough by now to recognise tension in the square shoulders and the very subtle uncontrollable shake that prolonged sleeplessness brought on. Braska had made Auron swear to rest earlier in the previous day, but should have known better. All three of them were stubborn as each other.
Braska sighed quietly before sitting up, his night gown twisting uncomfortably tight around one arm as he did so, and he crawled over, careful not to disturb Jecht's sleep though even a Bomb was unlikely to disturb the man once unconscious.
"You haven't slept," Braska scolded quietly, taking Auron's hands and pulling them out of the prayer stance before sliding his arms around the guardian's waist. "Morning will come whether you want it to or not. Rest is the least you could get tonight."
"I don't want to sleep," Auron replied, settling his hands on Braska's. There was no petulance in him, no unnecessary bitterness, just honesty. It was the sort of naked hopelessness that scalded.
Braska brushed his lips again Auron's ear, inhaled the scent of soft, unwashed hair. "All of us have duties. Sleep with me, if it'll help."
"It's against -"
"I think we're all in a position where paper rules don't matter. Lady Yunalesca didn't die a virgin."
"Neither will you. Your wife is waiting."
"And you're here. We've been through this before." Braska freed one of his hands, moved it to Auron's shoulder so he could massage some of the ache away. "In Al Bhed love is -"
"A plural, I know. But... I'm not Al Bhed, Braska." There is was, the crack Braska had been looking for, and he kissed Auron's neck, not wanting to lie just to give him false comfort.
"I'll wait for you," he said, and meant it. "You were so patient outside the prayer chambers, waiting is the least I can do."
"Why aren't you afraid?" Auron asked, leaning into Braska's arms, his weight comforting and solid if a little lighter than it ought to be on account of insomnia-induced malnutrition.
"Because there are bigger things in this world than myself." It was the truth. He'd said it before - had no doubt he'd need to say it again before the last - but that was the essence of it, what drove all summoners in the end. The world was bigger than one person and a summoner saw that, saw the value of one life against millions even if it only helped for a little while. "I promised myself I would sleep tonight and you promised me the same. Get your sleeping bag and come outside."
Auron obeyed and a small part of Braska regretted the order when he lost the body heat of being in Auron's proximity, but he calmed the feeling down quickly once they were outside in the crisp air, the still darkness inspiring clarity of thought.
"It's dangerous to rest in the open," Auron said, and Braska snorted quietly, knowing any one of them alone could take out a behemoth these days.
"Look at the stars," Braska urged, waiting for Auron's gaze to shift before he lunged at his guardian and pinned him to the floor. Barely. Even exhausted, Auron's constitution was impressive. "I don't want your last memories of me to be all doom and gloom."
"I don't want to have last memories," Auron replied and his voice stayed solid throughout even though his face barely held it together, his back strung so taut Braska feared it might snap, and this was breaking him, Auron's stoic bravery was breaking him.
"I'm sorry for being the first to go." It was a lie to himself but true for Auron. Seeing Auron die would have wounded Braska deeply enough that he knew dying first was a selfish act.
Auron's hand touched his jaw briefly, and Braska realised his cheeks were wet.
"I'm so sorry," He repeated, wondered why the rest of his composure was intact - voice steady, thoughts calm - but the insistent tears fell anyway.
Sleeplessness. It had to be.
Braska sighed and wrapped one arm around Auron's back, the other around his neck, and kissed him. How anyone had ever found the nerve to call Auron disgraceful before god was beyond Braska - yes, he'd refused an ideal political partnership, but those were meaningless human affairs. Auron was faithful, loyal, true, beautiful, and even if Braska was likely biased on the last point the others had to count for something.
Braska let his hand slide into Auron's hair, loosening the ponytail before pulling the tie free so he could alternate between kneading pressure points on his lover's scalp and stroking the full length of the slightly greasy black silk. There was no need for fierceness now in the kissing, breaking away to kiss eyelid and cheek and jawline, and Braska smiled when he heard a hitch in Auron's breathing and a soft snort as sleep caught up with him.
Dawn wouldn't be much longer. It didn't matter. Jecht was a night hound by nature, up late and grumpy in the morning, while Braska wasn't inclined to sleep until he saw Auron rest at last. A last lie in didn't seem too much of an indulgence.
Braska unzipped Auron's sleeping bag and used it to cover them both, curled up against his guardian underneath the makeshift blanket. The air was definitely chilly, but still enough to let the material trap their body heat, and Braska was uninclined to complain about cold ears.
Auron would be better for the sleep, and Braska wanted that. At this point, if the others had aeons, any of them could have completed the journey alone. But it wasn't what he wanted. Jecht's presence reminded him of his family, of Yuna and all the lost souls in Zanarkand, the reasons for doing this. Auron's presence gave him the courage to commit. He had bravery and strength of his own, for certain, but Auron reminded him always of why he had the right to be on the journey, the right to be a summoner despite what had been said by their elders. Auron's questions made Braska find answers for himself.
Braska closed his eyes, lulled towards sleep by Auron's warmth and calmed breathing, rested a hand on top of his guardian's chest.
It would be over soon. If he could face Auron, he was ready.
The End
Author: Emerald Embers
Fandom: Final Fantasy X
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst
Wordcount: 1162
Braska had made several promises to himself between the start of his pilgrimage and his arrival in the outskirts of Zanarkand, some of which he'd kept, some of which he'd broken or forgotten. His Al Bhed had improved and he'd learned how to fish, and he'd made a few spheres for his daughter when she got older. Most of what he'd neglected to do he chose to ignore, no longer wishing to dwell on what could have been.
Even so, there were moments.
Auron's silhouette was barely visible in the dark of the tent, but Braska knew his young guardian well enough by now to recognise tension in the square shoulders and the very subtle uncontrollable shake that prolonged sleeplessness brought on. Braska had made Auron swear to rest earlier in the previous day, but should have known better. All three of them were stubborn as each other.
Braska sighed quietly before sitting up, his night gown twisting uncomfortably tight around one arm as he did so, and he crawled over, careful not to disturb Jecht's sleep though even a Bomb was unlikely to disturb the man once unconscious.
"You haven't slept," Braska scolded quietly, taking Auron's hands and pulling them out of the prayer stance before sliding his arms around the guardian's waist. "Morning will come whether you want it to or not. Rest is the least you could get tonight."
"I don't want to sleep," Auron replied, settling his hands on Braska's. There was no petulance in him, no unnecessary bitterness, just honesty. It was the sort of naked hopelessness that scalded.
Braska brushed his lips again Auron's ear, inhaled the scent of soft, unwashed hair. "All of us have duties. Sleep with me, if it'll help."
"It's against -"
"I think we're all in a position where paper rules don't matter. Lady Yunalesca didn't die a virgin."
"Neither will you. Your wife is waiting."
"And you're here. We've been through this before." Braska freed one of his hands, moved it to Auron's shoulder so he could massage some of the ache away. "In Al Bhed love is -"
"A plural, I know. But... I'm not Al Bhed, Braska." There is was, the crack Braska had been looking for, and he kissed Auron's neck, not wanting to lie just to give him false comfort.
"I'll wait for you," he said, and meant it. "You were so patient outside the prayer chambers, waiting is the least I can do."
"Why aren't you afraid?" Auron asked, leaning into Braska's arms, his weight comforting and solid if a little lighter than it ought to be on account of insomnia-induced malnutrition.
"Because there are bigger things in this world than myself." It was the truth. He'd said it before - had no doubt he'd need to say it again before the last - but that was the essence of it, what drove all summoners in the end. The world was bigger than one person and a summoner saw that, saw the value of one life against millions even if it only helped for a little while. "I promised myself I would sleep tonight and you promised me the same. Get your sleeping bag and come outside."
Auron obeyed and a small part of Braska regretted the order when he lost the body heat of being in Auron's proximity, but he calmed the feeling down quickly once they were outside in the crisp air, the still darkness inspiring clarity of thought.
"It's dangerous to rest in the open," Auron said, and Braska snorted quietly, knowing any one of them alone could take out a behemoth these days.
"Look at the stars," Braska urged, waiting for Auron's gaze to shift before he lunged at his guardian and pinned him to the floor. Barely. Even exhausted, Auron's constitution was impressive. "I don't want your last memories of me to be all doom and gloom."
"I don't want to have last memories," Auron replied and his voice stayed solid throughout even though his face barely held it together, his back strung so taut Braska feared it might snap, and this was breaking him, Auron's stoic bravery was breaking him.
"I'm sorry for being the first to go." It was a lie to himself but true for Auron. Seeing Auron die would have wounded Braska deeply enough that he knew dying first was a selfish act.
Auron's hand touched his jaw briefly, and Braska realised his cheeks were wet.
"I'm so sorry," He repeated, wondered why the rest of his composure was intact - voice steady, thoughts calm - but the insistent tears fell anyway.
Sleeplessness. It had to be.
Braska sighed and wrapped one arm around Auron's back, the other around his neck, and kissed him. How anyone had ever found the nerve to call Auron disgraceful before god was beyond Braska - yes, he'd refused an ideal political partnership, but those were meaningless human affairs. Auron was faithful, loyal, true, beautiful, and even if Braska was likely biased on the last point the others had to count for something.
Braska let his hand slide into Auron's hair, loosening the ponytail before pulling the tie free so he could alternate between kneading pressure points on his lover's scalp and stroking the full length of the slightly greasy black silk. There was no need for fierceness now in the kissing, breaking away to kiss eyelid and cheek and jawline, and Braska smiled when he heard a hitch in Auron's breathing and a soft snort as sleep caught up with him.
Dawn wouldn't be much longer. It didn't matter. Jecht was a night hound by nature, up late and grumpy in the morning, while Braska wasn't inclined to sleep until he saw Auron rest at last. A last lie in didn't seem too much of an indulgence.
Braska unzipped Auron's sleeping bag and used it to cover them both, curled up against his guardian underneath the makeshift blanket. The air was definitely chilly, but still enough to let the material trap their body heat, and Braska was uninclined to complain about cold ears.
Auron would be better for the sleep, and Braska wanted that. At this point, if the others had aeons, any of them could have completed the journey alone. But it wasn't what he wanted. Jecht's presence reminded him of his family, of Yuna and all the lost souls in Zanarkand, the reasons for doing this. Auron's presence gave him the courage to commit. He had bravery and strength of his own, for certain, but Auron reminded him always of why he had the right to be on the journey, the right to be a summoner despite what had been said by their elders. Auron's questions made Braska find answers for himself.
Braska closed his eyes, lulled towards sleep by Auron's warmth and calmed breathing, rested a hand on top of his guardian's chest.
It would be over soon. If he could face Auron, he was ready.
The End