Lulu had not been able to sleep in Macalania Woods on either of her previous visits, and tonight proved no different. Her restlessness was due, in part, to the nature of the place: beautiful and brittle; serene, but teeming with life and memories, from the crystals on the trees to the springs and the pyreflies that gathered there. It made the skin on the back of her neck prickle, as if she was being watched; and, every now and then, a memory that was not her own flitted through her mind — a face, a name, a few spoken words — a glimpse into a life that continued only in its brightest, purest form.
It didn't seem to bother her companions. Even Yuna, made sensitive to the energy of pyreflies through her summoner's training, slept peacefully an arm's length away from Lulu, a little smile on her lips, no trace of the conflict and heartache that had plagued her earlier in the evening, as a newly-branded traitor to Yevon.
That designation, bestowed upon both Yuna and her guardians, weighed heavily on Lulu's mind, as well. Like most Spirans, she'd found guidance and purpose in Yevon's teachings. She'd grown up in the temples' care after her parents died, travelled with two other summoners in separate bids to defeat Sin, and kept her faith even when both of those pilgrimages ended abruptly. But seeing firsthand the moral rot beneath Yevon's beneficent façade had shaken her faith to its core, and being labelled a heretic nearly shattered it.
Nearly.
Despite the corruption in the upper echelons of Yevon's ranks, Lulu maintained that there had to be some truth to the teachings, themselves. Otherwise, everything — every Spiran's atonement, every summoner's sacrifice, Lady Ginnem's death and Yuna's pilgrimage — would be for naught, and Lulu simply couldn't accept that possibility.
She sat up with a sigh, realizing the futility of trying to sleep. Too many thoughts ran through her mind, each bleeding into the next, and a strong sense of apprehension hummed beneath them all. She reached behind her back and re-laced her corset, then rose, careful not to disturb Yuna. She picked her way through the campsite to the main path leading out of the woods and lingered there for a moment, staring at the base of the hill that led to the Calm Lands, before crossing the path and heading toward the spring.
She'd discovered the spring during her first pilgrimage, and spent most of that night sitting at its edge, letting the warm water envelop her feet and soothe her heart. She sought it out on her second pilgrimage, as well, her heart now heavy with grief and guilt. While the water did little to assuage those feelings, the solitude gave her space to indulge them, to cry and clear her mind for the remainder of the journey ahead.
Tonight, she sought neither comfort nor release, but peace, a chance to quiet her thoughts and rest both her mind and her body. She had not counted on finding anyone else seeking the same.
She started when she rounded the bend to the spring and saw a figure standing at its edge. She took a step backwards, prepared to make a stealthy retreat, but as her eyes adjusted to the glow emanating from the trees lining the water, she recognized Auron. He glanced over his shoulder, acknowledged her presence with a nod, then turned toward the water again.
"Sir Auron," Lulu said, closing the distance between them, "I'm surprised to find you here. Could you not sleep?"
"No." He tracked a cluster of pyreflies skimming the surface of the spring and frowned. "These woods are… too busy."
"You feel it, too, then? The air in this place seems to be alive. So much energy, so many—"
"Memories. Too many." He scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground, sending a pebble flying into the water. "There's no sense reliving what one cannot change."
"I suppose you're right." Silence descended between them, and Lulu watched the rings expand from where the pebble had sunk, unbothered by the quiet. Auron was a man of few words; being with him was often hardly different than being by herself. Yet, while others' silence might be dismissive or expectant, his was comfortable. She felt no guilt in breaking it, nor any pressure to; his presence was a refuge from the constant chatter of the world, a place where she could just be, alone, but not isolated.
Finally, Auron turned toward her and gave a low chuckle. "And you?" he said. "What brings you out here? Checking up on me?"
"No. I couldn't sleep, either, and came seeking a moment's peace."
"You could've just as easily found fiends, wandering on your own at night."
Lulu smirked, then snapped her fingers, sparks crackling to life in her palm. "You forget, Sir Auron, that I can handle myself just fine."
He laughed again, longer this time. "I've forgotten nothing. Concern has simply become second nature by now, having dealt with Jecht's recklessness ten years ago, and now, his son's."
"Are they really alike?"
"More than either of them would care to admit."
The conversation fell into another lull. Auron seemed content to stare into the distance and keep his thoughts to himself, and, for a while, Lulu did the same. She crouched beside the water and ran her fingers through it, watching light fracture and dance along their wake and relishing the warmth against her skin.
"This is my third time here," she said at last, "but the beauty never fails to move me."
Auron glanced at her. "Your other pilgrimages?"
"Yes. I was so excited the first time I found this place. I felt as if I'd stumbled on a secret, another world that nobody else knew about." She smiled at the memory. "I was so torn. I wanted to tell Lady Ginnem about it straight away, but, at the same time, I wanted to keep it to myself, as my own private escape. The selfishness of youth, I suppose.
"Truthfully, once I sat down here, I didn't want to leave." Her smile faded as the apprehension she'd felt all evening surged to the forefront of her thoughts. "I still don't." She shook the water from her hand and rose. "Of course, I will continue, for Yuna's sake, but I am apprehensive. I'm… afraid… I don't want to crest that next hill."
"To the Calm Lands," Auron said, facing her. "I suppose it's understandable. The history of the place is violent, and intimidating. Even summoners have lost their way there."
"I know."
"Yours?"
"Both."
"I'm sorry."
"Father Zuke came to his decision quite peacefully. He admitted he felt underprepared for the remainder of the journey and said that he could do more good for the people of Spira as a member of Yevon's clergy than fighting a battle he had little chance of winning."
Auron snorted. "Did he really trust his guardians so little?"
"Perhaps he was right to. Neither Wakka nor I were in the right state of mind. We were both still grieving for Chappu, and I… I was rushing, racing to help a summoner defeat Sin in Yuna's stead." Lulu shrugged. "I cannot speak for Father Zuke, but I suspect we all undertook that pilgrimage for the wrong reasons."
"Better to realize it then, than at the end."
"Indeed."
"And your other summoner?"
Lulu tensed. "Her end came too soon. And I… failed to stop it." She bit her lip and blinked against the tears stinging her eyes. "I failed in my duty as a guardian."
"Forgive me for asking."
"No, it's all right. I've only ever told Wakka. But I think… I think it does me no good to keep it inside." She drew a ragged breath. "Lady Ginnem had heard rumors of a fayth in a cavern in the gorge, one that had been stolen from a temple whose name is forgotten. She was convinced this fayth would give her an advantage in the fight against Sin, so we went in search for it.
"The cavern is deep and foul, seething with resentment and swarming with fiends. It took most of our energy and resources to reach the Chamber of the Fayth, and Lady Ginnem emerged from the chamber exhausted. Her other guardian and I tried to fight our way out, but both he and Lady Ginnem…" Lulu swallowed hard and wiped her eyes. "Lady Ginnem's dying wish was that I survive. The other guardian carried me as far as he could, and, not knowing what else to do, I left the cavern. I still haven't forgiven myself for that."
"There was nothing more you could do."
"Perhaps, but I'll never know for certain." She sighed and straightened, then swept aside the hair covering her face to reveal three long scars running down the side, narrowly missing her eye. "My guilt, my shame. Every time I look at these, I wonder, did I fight hard enough? If I hadn't been injured, could I have saved her? Even if I was to lose her at the end of her pilgrimage, anyway, at least then, her death would have meant something. She would have been remembered; she would be at peace. Now… now she's somewhere in an old cavern, unsent. Forgotten."
Lulu's tears flowed freely now, and she pressed a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs. Telling the story of her doomed pilgrimage hurt more than she ever imagined it could, but the pain was liberating. The guilt she had carried with her for so long, the grief she could never quite convey to anyone else, had shackled her heart, and she hadn't realized how heavy those chains were until she broke them.
Auron said nothing as she cried, and she appreciated him for it. No words of consolation carried the heft necessary to blot out the pain, and she preferred never to know his opinion of her choices back then, or of her emotional state now. He was aloof in almost every circumstance, and she found an odd sense of comfort in the consistency of his response.
So, when he broke that consistency by reaching out and brushing her hair aside, she flinched. He regarded her scars, then lightly traced his fingers along them, down, then up again, to wipe away a stray tear. Lulu shivered beneath his touch, and he gave a halfhearted chuckle.
Beneath her tears, Lulu felt her cheeks grow warm. "I'm not accustomed to touch," she explained. "Not even closeness. Not since Chappu."
"I see. That's been a while."
"Probably not compared to you, am I right?"
"I don't need it."
Lulu's sadness gave way to mild indignation. "Everyone needs it, at some point." She reached out and cupped his face, feeling his stubble scratch against her palm and his muscles tense beneath her fingers. She grinned. "See? We all need it."
In response, he stroked her cheek with his thumb, and she leaned into his touch. "It's not wrong," she went on, dreamily, her heart beating faster. "It doesn't mean you're weak."
"Who are you trying to convince?"
"You. Myself. Anyone who needs convincing." She exhaled slowly, relishing the sensation for a moment longer before pulling away. "Thank you, Sir Auron, for comforting me. I must admit, it was unexpected, but not wholly unpleasant."
He cocked an eyebrow. "Wholly?"
She sniffled and laughed quietly. "It wasn't unpleasant at all," she assured him. "It's something I'd rather not get used to, however, considering the circumstances."
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she fought to suppress another shiver. "Considering the circumstances, it would be wise to avail oneself of opportunities, before it's too late." His hand slid down, and he gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "Think about it."
"Perhaps." Lulu's corset suddenly felt too tight, her skirt too stifling for the heat coursing through her veins. Sensations she'd thought long dead roared back to life, and, for a moment, she considered abandoning all decorum and pride and burying herself in his embrace, surrendering to her senses, wherever they might lead her.
Instead, she gave a slight shrug, and watched him walk away.
"And get some rest," he called over his shoulder. "There's still a long road ahead."
Lulu turned back toward the spring and, without bothering to lift her skirt, waded in up to her knees. She watched the pyreflies dart among the trees and tried to calm her breathing and the throbbing in her body, chastising herself for this outsized reaction.
It's not wrong. But wasn't it wrong to come undone at the slightest touch? Wasn't it wrong to be so desperate, so hungry for tenderness, for some shadow of happiness in a world driven by sadness and fear?
She thought she'd learned better than to hope for such things.
She remained at the spring until the sky began to lighten. Then, dragging her wet skirt, she trudged back to the campsite, pausing at the path to look at the hill leading to the Calm Lands and realizing what she must do to exorcise her guilt once and for all, to truly live again, for however long she had left.
* * *
"Are you certain?" Auron asked, when Lulu told him of her decision to revisit the cavern where Lady Ginnem died.
She nodded. "I think it's the only way I can find closure and move on with my life. Yuna's pilgrimage is nearing its end, and I'd like to have a clear mind going forward. To be an effective guardian, and… to remember her as best I can."
The late afternoon sun cast long rays across the Calm Lands, deepening the shadows in the crags of the bluffs surrounding them. Lulu and Auron sat beneath the shade at the travel agency, while Kimahri browsed the wares nearby. Wakka, Rikku, and Yuna sat on the grass a short distance away, watching Tidus trying to tame a wild chocobo, laughing and offering equal amounts of teasing and encouragement.
Lulu smiled. This is how it should be — Yuna acting, if only for an afternoon, like a normal girl, and not as the martyr she would all too soon become. Lulu wished there were some way she could preserve the moment, but resigned herself to the knowledge that the best she could do was try to burn it into her memory.
"It is ultimately Yuna's choice." Auron's voice jolted her back to their conversation.
"Of course."
"Shall I call her over?" He began to rise.
"No." Lulu placed her hand on his arm, and he sat back down, a bemused expression on his face. "Don't bother her. Let her have this time."
"You've surprised me, recently. I never figured you for the sentimental type."
"I can certainly say the same about you."
"I am not without sympathy, or emotions, in general. I've simply learned to manage them."
"As have I. Emotions can be dangerous. It's best not to reveal them to the wrong person."
Auron laughed quietly. "That would imply that I'm the right person."
Lulu glanced at him, then went back to watching Yuna's group. "Yes," she admitted, "I believe you are. You seem to understand me, in a way the others don't. You understand loss, you understand desperation. And you don't try to tell me that everything will be all right. Because you know it won't be. However this pilgrimage ends, nothing will be all right, it will only be different; and, eventually, that different will become a new sense of normal.
"For your understanding, I thank you, and I trust you. I trust you with my feelings… with myself."
He didn't immediately answer, and Lulu bit her lip and felt her face flush. What a careless confession! She should have played off his question with a facetious remark, a scathing laugh, a half-hearted smile — anything but a truth he likely didn't want to hear.
She felt him move beside her, then felt his fingers skim the back of her hand, seeking hers. Hesitantly, she offered him her palm, and relaxed as he entwined his fingers with hers.
"I am honored," he said.
He withdrew his hand shortly afterward, but they continued to sit side by side, in pleasant silence, until the sun dipped behind the bluffs and the others came in, and their muscles had grown stiff from sitting so long.
* * *
Yuna's hands trembled as she healed her guardians in the wake of the battle with the machina set upon them by Seymour's men, but her jaw was set in a way Lulu had never seen before, and when she looked up, her eyes were hard and cold, flickering with a wild light that betrayed an emotion she tried so fervently to deny. Yuna was angry, with every right to be, and, while Lulu understood, it broke her heart to see the softness gone from Yuna's features, to see the scars of life accumulating on the gentle summoner.
I'm already losing her, she thought, piece by piece.
When her turn came to be healed, Lulu instead opened her arms to Yuna, and watched Yuna's anger give way to frustration, then sadness, before she rushed into Lulu's embrace.
She stayed there only until her breathing calmed, then pulled away and administered a Cura spell to Lulu.
"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I should have expected this."
"The only advantage cowards have," Auron said, walking up to them, "is that no one expects them to act. You handled yourself well. You have nothing to apologize for."
"Thank you, Sir Auron, but I know I must be stronger."
Lulu smoothed down Yuna's hair. "You are already strong. And do not hesitate to rely on our strength, as well, should yours ever falter. That is why we're here."
"I understand. Perhaps, though… perhaps there was some truth to what Lady Dona said, back in Djose. I must learn to stand on my own two feet, as much as I can. After all, when we reach Zanarkand—"
"You will find that you are strong enough," Auron interjected. "Mt. Gagazet is the final proving ground. It eliminates the weak."
Yuna nodded, then looked at Lulu. "Before we go there, then, I would like to speak with the fayth you told me about this morning, the one in the cavern. Are we nearby?"
Lulu glanced at Auron, who merely shrugged. "Yes, we are," she replied, "but I hadn't anticipated a difficult battle here. You are tired, and the cavern where the fayth resides is dangerous. Perhaps it would be best if we continued toward Gagazet."
Yuna shook her head vigorously. "I will be no less tired when I reach the mountain. If this fayth can give me an advantage against Sin, I wish to look for it, no matter the danger involved."
Lulu's shoulders spasmed. Those words, that dedication, were so similar to Lady Ginnem's that, for a brief instant, she saw Ginnem's features before her, instead of Yuna's. She blinked away the illusion and tilted her head. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely."
"Very well. Call the others, and follow me."
Halfway down the slope, Rikku overtook the rest of the party, in her usual boisterous fashion, but stopped suddenly at the valley floor. She was standing still and staring wide-eyed toward the cavern when Lulu arrived.
"Whoa… what is this place?" she asked.
"The Cavern of the Stolen Fayth," Lulu answered.
"A fayth? In there?"
"They say it was stolen from a temple, long ago. Now, it slumbers in the depths of the cavern, guarded only by fiends."
Wakka, who had wandered toward the mouth of the cave beside Rikku, looked back sharply. "Hey, Lu. This where…?"
Lulu nodded, bracing for a clarifying question from one of the others.
Tidus provided it. "Where what?"
"The summoner I guarded on my first pilgrimage... died here." The words were bitter on her tongue, and she took a moment to stifle the fear and doubt rising through her chest. "Yuna, let's go. The fayth awaits."
As her companions entered the cavern, Lulu lingered behind, trying to prepare herself for what she might encounter within. Would she find remains, so long after the incident? Would she encounter Lady Ginnem as an unsent, or had Lady Ginnem succumbed to fear and hatred and become a fiend? What would she say if she did meet her? An apology did not seem like enough.
The fading sound of the others' footsteps brought Lulu back to the task at hand. Taking a deep breath, she steeled her nerves and stepped forward.
The air inside was warm and rank, heavy with the smell of decay, and brought with it a rush of memories Lulu had long suppressed: Lady Ginnem staggering from the Chamber of the Fayth, exhausted from prayer and negotiation; her outstretched hand as she was struck down, ordering her other guardian to get Lulu to safety; that guardian's dying wail; the heat of his blood spattered on Lulu's face; the cold night air outside the cavern, where she huddled for a day and a half, unsure where to go, unsure whether she wanted to go on at all.
Lulu set her jaw and tried to focus on other details around her, to anchor her senses in the present, but found nothing in the way of comfort. The sound of claws skittering against stone echoed from deeper in the passage, and clusters of pyreflies drifted throughout, each a collection of anguished memories, snatches of the last sights and dying moans of the party's unfortunate predecessors. She shook her head and tried to suppress the trembling in her body; if the pyreflies in Macalania had been watching her, these felt as if they were hunting her, resentful of the life flowing through her, yet desperate to taste it once again.
"Are you all right?" Auron asked. "If you would prefer to wait outside—"
"No," she answered, relieved to hear her voice steady. "I will continue. I must."
"Where to?" Rikku asked, wrinkling her nose and fanning the air in front of her. "You really sure there's something in here?" Yuna echoed Rikku's question with a skeptical glance of her own.
"It's here," Lulu assured them. "Farther in. At the very back."
"If you say so." Rikku started down the first passage, and the rest of them followed, Lulu hovering near the rear of the group, with Auron.
She turned toward him. "Did Lord Braska come here during his pilgrimage?" she asked.
"No," he replied. "He had confidence that the aeons of the temples would be enough to defeat Sin."
"I hope you do not see Yuna's decision to seek this aeon as a lack of confidence on her part."
"Each summoner prepares for the final battle as they see fit. It is not a guardian's place to judge."
"Yet you have an opinion, no doubt."
"Naturally."
"And it is?"
"This is a foolhardy digression, but ultimately good for Yuna, and her guardians. I was not lying about Gagazet; if this leaves her stronger and more confident, it will have been worthwhile. If I believed otherwise, I would have cautioned you not to tell her about this place." He smirked. "Though whether you would have listened to me is beyond my control."
"I would never deliberately endanger Yuna."
"Not even to lay to rest some of your own ghosts?"
Lulu looked away. Auron had a tongue as sharp and precise as a carver's knife, slicing through all her justifications and defenses to lay bare the ugly core of her motivation, interwoven with dark tendrils of guilt and regret.
She straightened her shoulders and quickened her pace, moving toward the front of the group. She may have led Yuna here out of a selfish desire for closure, but she would not allow Yuna, or any of her companions, to become a victim of that desire. This was her story, the final chapter of her past, and she would dictate how it ended.
As they battled into the depths of the cavern, Lulu's apprehension slowly faded. There would be no repeat of the tragedy that befell Lady Ginnem and her other guardian. The party that Lulu journeyed with now was larger, more experienced and, frankly, more adept than she'd been during that ill-fated pilgrimage. They even took time between battles to ponder the nature of the place, and the reasons someone might have to steal a fayth from a temple.
But when they paused near the back of the cavern to heal themselves and adjust their equipment, Lulu noticed that the air had grown colder and heavier, somehow, to the point where each breath took effort.
"It's to be expected, so deep inside a cave," Auron said when Tidus and Rikku mentioned the change. Lulu was inclined to believe him, if only for the sake of her sanity, until her scars began to throb.
"Still," she ventured, trying to sound collected, "it is best to remain on your guard. The Chamber of the Fayth is very close. We cannot be sure that no one has implemented one final obstacle since I last visited."
"A prudent suggestion. Is everyone ready?"
"You bet!" Tidus grinned and rushed ahead, Rikku and Wakka on his heels. They stopped short at a dead end, however, and gaped at the pyreflies swarming there.
"Ugh," Wakka grunted, readying his blitzball. "More fiends? Looks big. Hope it's not those Guado again."
"No." Kimahri strode forward from the rear of the group, holding his halberd at the ready and squinting at the swarm. "An unsent."
As if on cue, the pyreflies coalesced into the form of a woman. A summoner. Lady Ginnem.
Lulu's eyes widened, and a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob lodged in her throat. She stepped forward. "It is… It’s you, is it not, Lady Ginnem?"
Silence.
Lulu bowed her head. "Forgive me. I was too young."
It was no excuse, she knew, but she had no other reason to give for her failure. She'd fought her hardest, but it hadn't been enough. She would have gladly died alongside Lady Ginnem, but Ginnem ordered her taken away. It was because of her youth, the future that still lay before her, that Lady Ginnem had wanted her spared; it was because she was too young then that she stood here now, facing her greatest regret, and withering beneath a cold gaze that betrayed no recognition of her.
She heard soft footsteps beside her and saw Yuna standing there, watching her, staff poised to perform the sending. Yuna raised her brows slightly, as if asking permission, and, with one final look at Lady Ginnem, Lulu nodded. It was time to set Lady Ginnem free.
But as Yuna began the sending, Lady Ginnem lashed out, sending all of them staggering backwards with a wave of energy, her expression unchanged. Lulu's heart twisted in her chest as she realized what had become of the summoner she had loved.
"There is no human left in you now, is there?" she asked. More silence, frigid and haunting. "Very well, then. Allow me to perform my last duty to you. My last as your guardian."
Lulu assumed her battle stance, and Ginnem struck out again, summoning the aeon Yojimbo — her own final aeon, in an unfortunate sense of the term — to fight against the party in her place.
Throughout the battle, whether she was on the front line or watching her comrades engage, Lulu felt a strange sense of distance growing between herself and the event playing out before her. The tears she thought would flow should she encounter Lady Ginnem again did not so much as prick her eyes, and she found that she could not move her heart to either regret or sadness. It was as if Ginnem's blank stare had penetrated to her very soul, robbing her of feeling, of even the final release of grief.
So, this was to be her punishment, then, the price of her failure. A pervasive numbness; a sort of living death.
Once Yojimbo dispersed into pyreflies and Yuna sent Lady Ginnem's spirit to the Farplane, Lulu brushed a finger against her lashes, and brought it away distressingly dry.
"Strange," she said. "I thought it would be sadder, somehow. Perhaps I've gotten used to farewells."
"Nah," Wakka said, a gentle sincerity in his voice, "you're just stronger now."
If only it were that simple.
"Wakka, I hope you're right." She sighed and turned to face Yuna. "The fayth awaits. Go do what you came to do."
While Tidus accompanied Yuna into the Chamber of the Fayth, the rest of the guardians scattered along the perimeter of the antechamber. Lulu leaned against a large stone and stared straight ahead, trying to remember Lady Ginnem as she'd known her in life, trying to conjure up a memory or emotion to begin to fill the unnerving emptiness inside her now.
"Satisfied?" Auron's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she turned to find him studying her over the top of his glasses. "Did you find the closure you sought?"
"It’s hard to say," she replied, frowning. " I really did think it would be sadder. I thought I would cry. Or I thought, perhaps, I'd feel lighter, less burdened, somehow.
"Lady Ginnem's suffering has finally ended. I wish I could feel happy for her. I wish I could feel relieved." She shook her head. "I wish I could feel something. Anything at all."
* * *
Lulu stepped carefully over the uneven tiles of a forgotten structure as she walked along the path beside the Calm Lands Scar. The Crusaders that had gathered there earlier in the day had abandoned the area for the relative safety of the travel agency come nightfall, and the dark and quiet they left behind beckoned to her. It seemed as good a place as any to walk until she tired, to indulge her confusion and try to sort out her thoughts, in the vain hope of stirring her heart to life once more, and possibly finding some respite.
After Yuna emerged from the Chamber of the Fayth that afternoon, predictably exhausted, the group decided to make camp outside of the cavern and get a fresh start at Mt. Gagazet in the morning. Lulu welcomed the break, hoping that, with some rest, she would feel better, more like her usual self.
She was graced with no such luck, as rest itself proved elusive.
Vacant eyes haunted her dreams. They stared at her, unblinking and multiplying, and the more she tried to shut them out, the closer they encircled her, until she was trapped within several layers of a nightmare, forced to recognize in the eyes the reflection of the numbness in her own heart.
The others, meanwhile, slept soundly, save for Auron, who kept watch, and Kimahri, who was customizing equipment for the journey ahead by the light of the campfire and whatever he could decipher of Rikku's hastily scribbled instructions. Neither seemed surprised when Lulu cast off her blanket and joined them at the fire, and neither tried to stop her when she began to wander away from camp.
She reached the end of the path and leaned against the wall of the ravine, looking up at the waning moon and following its light down, along the crags and outcroppings, across the stones at her feet, and into the yawning chasm before her. There were bodies down there, she'd heard, far beyond the moonlight's reach; dozens, perhaps hundreds, of unsent, clamoring in the darkness, wondering whether they'd been abandoned, or simply forgotten altogether.
Had Lady Ginnem felt that way? Awakening as a spirit, forgetting her own sacrifice, and wondering where her guardians had gone? Where the girl she'd taken under her wing had run to when she needed her help the most? Had she looked upon her own remains and lamented, until there was nothing left in her soul? Had she taken comfort in her last aeon, at home in the fetid confines of the cavern, and seen in him the loyalty she believed had been denied her at the end of her life?
Possibly. That would explain her hostility, her cold stare.
But it couldn't explain why that stare left Lulu just as cold, her own soul chilled and unmovable.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to the darkness in front of her. "I'm sorry I didn't stay with you. But you didn't want me to. You didn't want me to get hurt, you didn't want me to die. You… you saved my life. And for that, I am eternally grateful." Lulu blinked rapidly, relieved to feel the sting of tears. "Perhaps that is what you need to hear. Thank you, Lady Ginnem… thank you, and good-bye."
She closed her eyes inhaled slowly, nursing the tiny spark of feeling in her heart, willing it to take fire. Soon, however, the sound of crunching gravel reached her ears, and she tensed, unwittingly snuffing out the spark, leaving not so much as a trace of warmth in its place.
"Why are you here?" she demanded of the interloper, without opening her eyes.
"That is no way to fight a fiend," Auron replied, "with your eyes closed."
"I knew you were no fiend. A fiend would not have stopped several paces away." She turned to him. "Aren't you supposed to be keeping watch?"
"It's Kimahri's turn."
"What are you doing here, then, instead of resting? Have you come to check on me? I thought I made it clear that I can take care of myself."
"You have." He sighed and shoved his katana into the soft earth beside a large stone. "I have no misgivings about your battle skills."
"Then what do you have misgivings about?"
"You are troubled."
Lulu crossed her arms. "We all are, are we not? This is hardly a leisurely stroll."
Auron ignored her. "The most difficult part of the pilgrimage lies ahead. You cannot afford to compromise your concentration with whatever thoughts are disturbing you now."
She glared at him for a moment, then relented. "I understand. That's why I'm here, trying to impose some order, some meaning on them."
He said nothing, but did not move to leave. She resented his presence, at first; however, as the silence between them stretched on, it became comfortable, providing a sense of safety and isolation, where she could speak her mind, if she so wished. Soon enough, it coaxed the words from her, the way an Esuna spell leached poison from a wound.
"Perhaps it was foolish," she said quietly, "to go into that cavern. To search for closure."
"You found it, though, did you not?"
"I believe I did, but I don't know what to do with it. I've hurt for so long… I held onto my grief, onto my guilt, for so long, that I suppose… I suppose they became a part of me." She looked away. "And now that they're gone… there's nothing left. I'm hollow inside. Empty, like this Scar."
"It is better to be empty, than to be filled with pain."
She gritted her teeth, prepared to berate him for his patronizing remark, but flinched when she felt his hand on her shoulder. Her skin warmed beneath his touch, and she slowly relaxed as a gentle fluttering sensation rose in her chest.
"Trust me," he went on, his voice rolling through her, setting her nerves alight, "I do understand."
"Lord Braska?"
"Yes… among other tragedies."
"Such as?"
"None you need concern yourself with. My point is that pain and anger can consume a person, until there is room for nothing else." He placed a hand on her other shoulder and turned her toward him. "Being empty, on the other hand, leaves room for all emotions and experiences. For the future, and all its possibilities."
"Possibilities," Lulu repeated, then furrowed her brow as a recent memory surfaced in her mind. "Possibilities… or opportunities, like those you mentioned back in Macalania?"
"Heh. So, you remembered."
"Because you spoke of them so cryptically. What did you mean?"
One corner of his mouth hitched up. "What do you think I meant?"
A challenge. Lulu leaned back to look at him, her pulse quickening, her corset feeling uncomfortably tight once again. A sly smile crept across her lips, and she reached up and cupped his face, running her thumb over the stubble and along the lines carved by the years.
"Something," she said, "like that which you claim to not need."
"I never claimed to not enjoy it." There was a warmth in his voice that seemed to seep into her blood as he trailed his hand up from her shoulder and along her neck, to brush against her cheek.
A symphony of sensations surged to life within her, thawing her heart and dispelling the numbness. She eliminated what little space remained between them and traced his lips with her thumb. "Would you think me forward if—"
"No."
"You haven't given me a chance to ask you."
"Then, show me."
"Very well." She raised herself on tiptoe, pulled down his collar, and kissed him. He responded with an energy she did not expect from him, pulling her close and pressing his hands hard against her flesh as they left her shoulders and traveled in different directions. One slid up the back of her neck, igniting sparks along her spine, before his fingers curled into the hair at her nape, while the other moved downward, skimming her waist and coming to rest against the exposed skin at the small of her back, between her corset and her skirt, driving the sparks home, to her very core.
She gasped against his mouth, and he laughed, sending delicious vibrations throughout her body before he broke away to pepper kisses along her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.
"Yes," she whispered, breathless, her fingers clenching in his hair, "that's it. Please… help me to feel again."
"As you wish," he murmured, and began fumbling with the laces of her corset. Several tugs and a few muttered curses later, they came undone, and Lulu breathed deeply, glad to be free of the restrictive garment, her motion causing it to slip down her body. Auron helped it along, pushing it down farther to reveal her breasts, on which he proceeded to lavish attention with his mouth and free hand, while his other arm hooked around her waist, his fingers splayed against her side.
Lulu arched her back and moaned, clawing at his shoulders and moving her hips in slow circles, pressing her thighs together to accommodate the heat and pressure building between them. No doubt encouraged by her reaction, he continued his lustful ministrations, and she shivered and bit back a cry as his fingers slid into the waistband of her skirt, evidently intent on removing yet one more obstacle between them.
She let him work at it for a few moments more, then laughed softly and dipped her head to capture his lips again, leaning into him and gently nudging him backwards, until his back was against the ravine wall. She pulled away and looked at him, and her smile widened at what she saw. He looked every bit as undone as she felt: his face was flushed and slick with sweat, his glasses resting haphazardly on the end of his nose; his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, and his fingers hovered, suddenly uncertain, just above her shoulders. When he swallowed and tried to speak, she pressed a finger to his lips and stepped back.
Maintaining eye contact, she reached for the belts at the front of her skirt, and deftly undid the buckles on three of them — two hanging vertically from her skirt, the other encircling her thighs — then pulled the encircling belt free of the fabric, and let the remaining mass of leather and metal fall to the ground with a dull jangle.
"You don't believe I would truly bind myself?" she asked, stepping clear of the discarded belts. "Even I must make concessions to the necessity of… practical functions."
He gave a dry laugh and made a few "concessions" of his own — removing his collar and gauntlet, sliding his right arm out of the sleeve of his robe — before pulling her in for another kiss. She opened her mouth to him, greedily, and, in the absence of her belts, molded her body into his, rocking her hips against the stiffness in his pants. He groaned and grasped her backside, holding her to him as his own hips bucked. The friction sent a jolt of electricity through Lulu's body, weakening her knees, and she disengaged from their kiss with an audible gasp.
Unwilling to be entirely at his mercy, she slid her hands over his biceps and guided him down, slowly, to a seated position. The frown he shot her was tinged with more bewilderment than disappointment, and she met it with a wordless grin as she straddled his legs and went to work freeing him from his pants, driven by a force that went beyond all emotion or reason; driven by a desire, a need to fill the emptiness inside herself, by whatever means necessary.
She ran a hand over his hot length, appreciative of the uncharacteristic whimper that broke through his lips at her touch, then repositioned herself over him. Reaching beneath her skirt, she tugged her underclothes to the side and lowered herself onto him with a shuddering sigh.
Oh! The heat and the fullness, the delicious stretch and the deep caress, sent lightning arcing through her veins. She stilled for the space of a few breaths, letting her muscles adjust to him, then began to writhe atop him, sensually, decadently, and — if Auron's iron grip on her waist was any indication — infuriatingly slowly.
He allowed her to keep the pace for only a few moments more, before his hands moved to her hips, fingers sinking into her flesh, and he began to thrust up into her. She cried out in surprise, but soon took up his rhythm, meeting him stroke for stroke, her fractured gasps mingling with his uneven grunts.
The sensations that flooded her now were no substitution for the emotions that had eluded her for most of the day, but they were real and immediate, grounding her in this world and forcing out the numbness she feared had overtaken her for good. She'd forgotten how it felt to be held, to be ravished, to be filled — to be, even in the most basic sense, not empty.
Since Chappu's death, she had allowed herself very little in the way of sensual pleasure, and certainly none by anyone else's hand. Grief had quelled her desire for much of that time, and even as it faded, other feelings moved to the fore — guilt, trepidation, resignation — each with the same dulling effect. That she had to lose all other feelings to experience what she felt now was not lost on her, even in the midst of passion, and her mouth twisted into a small, rueful smile.
A particularly strong thrust wiped the smile from her face, and she abandoned thinking — about the past, or the near future, or even what was happening now — and gave herself over to the ecstasy building within. With every breath, the tension inside her wound tighter, and she rode Auron harder, furiously chasing release. She raked her nails down his arms, incoherent pleas bubbling from her lips, and when he answered her only by increasing his pace, she slipped a hand between them and began tending to herself.
She worked herself to the edge, head flung back, eyelids fluttering, full-throated moans echoing off the ravine walls, and teetered there, in the breathless space between agony and rapture, at once desperate to go over and determined to extend this moment as long as she could. Her indecision was rendered moot, however, when Auron reached down, moved her hand aside, and took over. The feel of his strong, callused fingers on her sensitive nub undid her, and her entire body spasmed as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through it.
Amid the thundering of blood in her ears, she heard his breathing become ragged, and as she clenched around him, he drove into her with a frenzied, irregular rhythm, wild, guttural sounds tearing from his throat. Lulu clung to him, her cries going up a register as he pushed her well beyond her familiar parameters of pleasure, into dizzying new territory. Finally, with one last thrust, he stiffened, shuddered, and released into her.
A relieved sob escaped Lulu at the sudden rush of heat, and she collapsed against him while the last of her spasms drew it in. As her climax ebbed, she gradually became aware of an odd sensation flowing through her: a fluttering warmth that spread up from between her legs, through her abdomen, down her arms and legs to the tips of her fingers and toes. It was unfamiliar, but not unpleasant, and it filled her body with a gentle throbbing, akin to someone else's pulse, and a surge of keen energy, as ancient and immediate as life itself.
Curious, she leaned back, lifted her skirt, and looked down. From the space where she and Auron were still connected, she saw no overflow of seed, but instead, a handful of pyreflies drifting away.
Auron laughed mirthlessly. "I suppose I have a confession to make," he said.
"When did it happen?"
"Ten years ago, on Braska's pilgrimage."
"Ten years? How did it— How did you—" Lulu stammered, trying to order her questions in her mind, unsure whether any of them were tasteful enough to ask.
"You're upset."
"No, not at all. I'm simply surprised… and confused." She leaned forward, letting him slip out of her, and caressed his face. "Concerned, for you."
"I appreciate it, but it is not necessary."
Lulu rolled off of him and began putting her corset to rights. "I never would have guessed. You are so strong, so driven. So alive."
He snorted, pulling up his pants. "Nothing but a shadow of what I was. I am merely playing at life, now."
"It certainly didn't feel that way."
"Yet it most assuredly was." He frowned and continued dressing. "There are moments when it feels real, moments when I nearly forget. Like tonight. But in the end, I am unable to offer what a living man can; I've no life in me left to give."
"I never said I wanted that. It may even be for the best." Lulu retrieved her belts, but she did not yet trust her legs to hold her up while she refastened them. "I doubt I'd make a good mother." She sighed, then looked at him, curiosity overtaking sadness in her features.
"Ten years is a long time," she said. "What has kept you sane? What has kept you whole?"
"A promise." Auron rose with a grunt, then helped her up. "To a friend. And the hope for vengeance."
"Vengeance?" Was that what had kept Lady Ginnem in this world? Vengeance against those who took her life, festering and twisting until it became vengeance against the one who survived? The possibility settled heavy in Lulu's heart. She tried her best to shake it off, and looked at Auron for his answer.
"You'll see, soon enough," he said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a bitter smile, enigmatic as ever. "When we reach Zanarkand, you'll see."
Lulu nodded, unwilling to pry. After all, how many times had she found refuge in his silence? Was it not fair to offer him the same?
They walked back to camp without a word between them. Lulu was relieved to see the others still asleep, though she avoided Kimahri's mischievous grin. She took a seat beside Auron near the campfire, her own sparks of ecstasy all but extinguished already. Nevertheless, her experience with him had stirred something inside of her, knocked loose whatever had stifled her emotions. Calling to mind her brief reunion with Lady Ginnem, Lulu found she still could not conjure what she felt would be a proper response, but she'd had no problem feeling concern for Auron. That was a small step, for sure, but one in the right direction, and proof that she hadn't lost all feeling for good.
And neither had he, adamant as he was to claim otherwise. Though Lulu could not know the specifics of the promise he mentioned, she could relate very well to its nature. Whatever it was, it was not so different from the oath she'd taken three times already, each subsequent time hoping to finally fulfill her word. The desperation of an unfulfilled promise often kept her awake long after everyone else had drifted to sleep; who was to say it couldn't keep a man clinging to life, long after the blood had left his body?
As Kimahri shuffled off to rest, dismissed by Auron, Lulu remained where she was, her swirling thoughts effectively dispelling any hint of postcoital drowsiness. Despite the pleasure she'd had tonight, despite her decadent release, the pilgrimage continued, dangerous and heartbreaking, in the morning. Despite the closeness she'd felt with Auron, she still could not properly mourn the fate of the woman who'd loved her and taught her so much. Despite the bliss she'd found—
She started when Auron slipped an arm around her shoulders and drew her to him. He brushed her hair aside to trace her scars once more, then kissed her, slowly and deliberately. Lulu reciprocated and laid her head on his chest once they parted, listening in vain for something resembling a heartbeat, but hearing only the thrumming of pyreflies through his body.
Still, being near him calmed her heart. He gave her an easy silence, one in which she didn't have to justify her decisions or emotions, one in which she didn't have to face any questions about her past, even from herself. A silence in which she could just be, in which she could rest without sleep, and the nightmares that haunted it.
She squeezed his hand as the campfire crackled before them and hoped that, in the last leg of this journey, toward whatever promise and vengeance drove him, she might offer him a similar shelter from the storm.
Before the stars began to fade into the first light of dawn, the distress and blissful exertion of the evening finally took their toll on Lulu. Her eyelids grew heavy and she nestled against Auron, into his quiet, and drifted off to the sound of his pyreflies, into a mercifully dreamless sleep.