Love Her and Despair Remaster [44]
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Title: Love Her and Despair
Chapter 44: "Points of Departure"
Final Fantasy X/X-2
Characters: Auron/Lulu, Isaaru, Pacce, Wakka, Rikku, Cid, Lucil, Baralai
Rating: G
Word Count: 3500
Navigation: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Map/ToC
The Story So Far: Yu Yevon has been defeated, and Sin's fayth is free at last. Lulu, Auron, friends and allies return in battered triumph to Bevelle aboard an Al Bhed airship.
Emerging into a whirligig of tumbling children, Auron was glad that Lulu remained in her cabin's sanctuary. The seating area in the mezzanine was crammed with people. In the horseshoe of padded seats closest to the door, Cid, Baralai and Lucil had their heads together in a flurry of last-minute negotiations shouted over the whine of engines. Rikku had claimed the opposite sofa, bent over some project laid across her knees— his sword, Auron realized, and felt a prickle of irritation and nostalgia. The children were everywhere, squealing with delight when a pocket of turbulence parted them from the floor.
One pillar of quiet kept watch over the chaos from the corner. "So who's guarding Sin?" Juno said as Auron stepped out.
"Sin's dead." He turned his back on her, but the staircase was blocked by a barrier of sofa cushions and stuffed animals.
"—Five years," Baralai was saying, earnest and intent. "We'll wave docking fees for five years. Agreed?"
"Agreed," Lucil said. Her crisp battlefield cadences had an odd squeak: apparently she was not enjoying the speed at which they were skimming over the harbor.
"Whoa!" Vidina said, mashing his face against the glass. "Look at that bridge! The steel's totally melted. Way to go, Pop-pops!"
"Get down, boy," Cid growled. "Now see here, Baralai—"
"Consider, Elder Cid," Baralai said. "The lake is composed of frozen pyrefly slurry. You could refuel your ships right there."
"Provided that," Lucil said, "Macalania Temple is left undisturbed, and Lady Shelinda concurs."
"It was an accident," the younger children recited in a sing-song, apparently practicing a new word. "Acci, acci, accident!"
"Kids," Rikku said, "Settle down, okay? Pop-pops is working."
"Deal," Cid said. "I'm down by one airship, mind, so don't expect a weekly ferry service. And Gippal may want compensation."
"Hey, Auron!" Rikku pushed up her goggles. "You dropped something. What's rule number three, kids?"
"Don't leave toys out where Dad can trip over 'em!" Vidina crowed, jamming one of the mini-blitzballs from last night's romp behind the sofa. "Where's Yunie?"
"With Lulu," Auron said, coming forward to reclaim his weapon. He spun the hilt as he lifted it, letting sunlight play across the dark metal. All the nicks and scratches from the pilgrimage had vanished. "Thanks," he said, and meant it.
Rikku winked. "Don't let Gippal see that, or he'll bug me for custom work to sell the Crusaders."
Cid grumbled something about too many damned passengers. Then the roar of the engines grew too loud for speech. His Yevon colleagues fell silent, gripping their armrests against the careening deceleration. The outer ramparts of the first circle whipped past the window. Auron planted his feet and braced. Sputtering a few choice words about her brother's piloting skills, Rikku dropped to the floor and wrapped her arms around Etta and Mbela. Air brakes shrieked. The ship slowed and swung to a stop like a cart swaying in its traces. The maesters exchanged shaky smiles.
"Airships may not be blasphemy, but I shall stick to chocobos," Lucil said.
Nooj's voice filtered over the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Plaza of St. Bevelle. Our pilot cordially requests that all members of Yevon disembark. I'll see you below."
"We'd better," Juno said.
"Well, here we are!" Rikku said, hopping to her feet and snagging the two youngest as they started towards the stairs. "Al Bhed, sit tight. Mum'll be right back. Vidina, keep 'em out of trouble. Yevon folks, follow me. You guys need to come up with a new name for yourselves. How about the Ogie Fogeys?"
"Sir Auron," Lucil said. "Does Lord Isaaru require assistance?"
"Probably not." Wading through the barricade of soft toys, he headed downstairs.
"Do send word, if he should need a healer," Lucil said, taking Cid's proffered arm with a gracious nod.
"Make sure you take Lady Whoosit when you leave," Cid added in a loud voice. "Yevon made her. Let them deal with her. I reckon Maester Baralai here's not too namby-pamby to see justice done for mass murder, eh?"
"Pops!" Rikku said.
"There will surely be an inquiry–"
The cabin door closed on Baralai's reply. Auron counted to ten, gritting his teeth as the pyreflies in his veins jangled to life. Yevon eats his own, picks Zanarkand's bones, and Bevelle's vultures stoop for the kill. (Shut up.) Not that he had expected a hero's welcome for Lulu anywhere in Spira. Sin's sins were hers, now, and her face had left an impression on many. But Cid had been Shuyin's victim. He should understand what it meant to have one's will violated.
"Sir?" Pacce, half-dressed, scrambled up from the floor with one greave flapping. "Good morning, sir!"
Acknowledging his salute with a grunt, Auron addressed the gray-faced man gripping the edge of his bunk. "Isaaru?"
"Here." Isaaru looked like Cura stretched over a ruptured aorta, but his compassionate smile had returned. "Sir Auron? I was not certain we would see you again."
"We've reached Bevelle," Auron said. "Can you walk?"
"I—I am unsure. Flying seems to have robbed me of both legs and stomach." Isaaru gave a weak chuckle. "I beg your pardon. The loss of my aeons... but no matter. What of the Lady?"
"Erinyes, too?" Auron pressed. "Seymour's mother?"
Isaaru closed his eyes. "Gone," he said finally. "Torn from me, but for a few bloody dregs. I ought to journey to Baaj and send her."
"Later. See Zuke when we land." He turned to Pacce. "Break camp."
"Sir!" The boy hastened to finish suiting up and collecting their few belongings.
"Come, friend," Isaaru said, lowering his voice as Pacce clattered about. "We shared a pilgrimage, you and I, although our ends differed. What of yours? Have you found what you sought?" His eyes flicked to the bone token bound to Auron's sword.
"Lulu is free," Auron said. "I should thank you."
"For my part, I am glad. Or rather, grateful. A bittersweet victory for both of us, no? Ladu Yuna is gone, and Maroda is gone, and my heart is a hollow vessel where the Hymn of the Fayth echoes like surf in an abandoned shell. Yet I would thank your friend, were it not too painful a reminder. Without her sacrifice, Maroda would be worse than dead, with Pacce tasked to free him. I shall not forget, Sir Auron."
"Remember what happened. Don't dwell on what didn't," Auron said. He held out a hand. "Up."
Auron himself girded Isaaru in his summoner's robes for the first and last time, feeling time slip as he tugged the stole straight. A memory came to him: Braska's soothing tones barely penetrating the proud dread of a guardian preparing his summoner for departure. He could recall the very scent of fresh-dyed fabric, its rustling layers, Braska's laughter when he looked in a mirror and declared himself some distant cousin of an ochu. Auron remembered stepping out into the chilly fog, listening to the dawn liturgy drifting down from the heights of the Tower. Bevelle. How many years ago had he quit its gates with Jecht grousing over the lack of fireworks? Auron's guardian duties would begin and end there.
"Sir Auron? Maroda was right about you, wasn't he?" Pacce said. "You've been looking for Lulu this whole time. Why the big secret?"
"A summoner's duty is to destroy Sin, not save it."
"Maroda would have obstructed Sir Auron's quest," Isaaru said, grave and sad. "Yet I wish you could have trusted me sooner, my friend. I learned from Lord Braska and Lady Yuna that a true summoner must follow heart's guidance, even when it leads beyond Yevon's grace. Still… forgive me, Sir Auron, but I perceive that your own journey is not yet over. May I...?"
"No," Auron said. Noting Isaaru's concerned look, he added, "Not yet."
"Huh?" Pacce said. "What else is there?"
"To see a summoner to the end of his pilgrimage. Come." Auron's gruff tone was almost fond. "I expect you'll be wanting to make a speech."

They emerged to find Lulu negotiating the stairs with young Yuna leading, Wakka hovering behind. Only Lulu could have transmuted gauze bandages, Al Bhed pajamas and Auron's battle-stained coat into formal attire, but she carried herself with her customary regal poise. Pacce drew himself up in a jerky salute.
Isaaru offered Yevon's prayer without a trace of mockery. "Lady Guardian."
"High Summoner." She inclined her head. "Congratulations."
Isaaru started: at the title, perhaps, or at the irony that Sin should be first to call him that. "Thank you, Lady, but you know as well as I that summoning had little to do with it."
Yuna listened with eyes wide and her shoopuf clutched over her heart. Wakka cleared his throat and sank to one knee, drawing her aside with a conspiratorial whisper. "Hey, Yunie. Get your things, but don't tell the others. I've got to talk to Mum."
"Oh!" The girl giggled, scampered around Lulu twice, and darted off, ignoring her siblings hooting to her from a castle of sofa cushions going up around the barstools.
Lulu watched the girl go with a love too raw lighting up her face. It was the first sign of change in her Auron recognized, although it was more a symptom of atrophy: her self-control had been compromised for over a decade. To Isaaru, she said, "You played your part well enough to deceive my jailor. Nor do I think Sir Auron arranged my welcoming committee. An alliance of forces: that was your doing."
Isaaru bowed his head. "Your conveyance to Bikanel was timely."
"That machina that battled Sin: where in Spira did you find it?"
"Bevelle, I'm afraid," Isaaru said. "Another weapon from the Machina War, hidden beneath our feet all this time."
"All this time?" Her smile withered. The pressure in the cabin seemed to drop like the inflow of an approaching storm.
Wakka paused in the act of getting to his feet. "Uh, Lu?"
"Of course," she said, voice brittle. "Sin was too convenient to destroy." Her features smoothed over so quickly that Isaaru and Wakka stood blinking at one another as if uncertain what had just happened. She shifted her attention to the youth at Isaaru's side. "It's Sir Pacce, isn't it?"
"Ma'am!" His skin glowed pink below his helm. "Pleased to meet you!"
"We've met several times now," she said gently, "and no, that was no dream. You have ridden Sin's wings from Djose Shore to Western Isle. This also was no dream: once upon a time, I caught a dying man who was very proud of you. That love sang clear in the pyreflies, through your brother's sorrow."
"Maroda?" The color drained from his face. "You… you caught him?"
Isaaru's hand crumpled over his heart. "Lenne," he murmured, dismayed. "She came with the pyreflies, summoning Shuyin to her as I was sending him. Was that you, then? Was she not there at all?"
Lulu gave him a stern look. "She was, in spirit. But that is her story." To Pacce, she said, "As Djose's aeon was of lightning, so Sin was of death. It was my unhappy duty to bridge the long road between Spira and the Farplane. Your brother made that journey in peace. With one final wish: that you live well." Her eyes shifted to Isaaru. "Both of you." She ignored the unease radiating from Wakka as he listened.
"Oh." Pacce swallowed.
"I see you two are still conspiring," Isaaru said with a rueful glance over his shoulder. "Sir Auron said something of the sort. But we will try. Perhaps the Lady can teach us how to find life after death."
"Or after Yevon?" she countered.
The main doors swished open. Cid stumped in, trailed by Rikku. He halted and glowered. "Well? What're you lot still doing here?"
Wakka hurried over to Rikku and drew her aside, whispering in her ear.
"This is goodbye," Isaaru said, smiling. "Elder Cid, thank you for all your help. Will you not stay for the festival? This victory is yours as much as ours."
"Sorry, got to get to Baaj and supervise repairs, or Rin's liable to turn Home into a theme park. But I owe you for Shuyin. And, uh..." He thrust out a hand. "I guess that summoner gig wasn't a total waste of time, eh? Gotta hand it to you for takin' care of Sin."
Isaaru grasped it warmly. "As was my duty."
"Hmph." Cid shook his head. "Look, I'll have my hands full for a while putting Home back together, but I'll send what techs I can spare to help with Bevelle's rebuild. And Gippal's adding Bevelle to his regular circuit. If you need a ride, ask Baralai to arrange a pickup."
"Thank you. I will."
Wakka had finished his mumbled petition. "Happy Festival Fireworks, you mean?" Rikku said aloud, eyes twinkling. "After Home just got blown up? Now where have I heard that before?"
"Uhhh." Wakka blushed. "Well, I mean, if you'd rather—"
"Dope." She pecked his cheek and raised her voice. "Hey, kids, how'd you like to stay in Bevelle for a holiday? There's gonna be music and dancing and a really big party, and maybe we can catch some blitzball!"
Two of the cushions fell outwards as Vidina jumped up. "Blitzball? Awesome! Will Dad play?"
"Femm drana pa ice cream?"
"Are there chocobos in Bebel?"
Cid's strained courtesy crumbled. "You are not taking my grandchildren on vacation in Saint Bloody Yevonville!" He jabbed a finger at Lulu. "And she is not allowed in Al Bhed territory, you hear?"
Wakka's hands balled into fists. "Excuse me?"
"Get your things, kids!" Rikku said, stepping between husband and father. "Clothes, shoes, and you can have one toy each. Wakka, help them." She waved airily to Isaaru as her father screwed up his face for an explosion. "Whatcha gonna do, Pops, banish me like Auntie Anna if I don't fall in line?"
Cid's teeth clamped shut on what he was going to say, but his face was purple.
"Rikku, there's no need," Lulu said.
"Oh, but it's fun," she said. "Catch you guys later."
They crept out as the argument escalated into an Al Bhed shouting match, enlivened by Etta and Mbela imitating Cid's mannerisms in exaggerated, hand-waving mime.

"Lady," Isaaru said, halting before the elevator until Pacce discreetly herded him inside, "If you need lodgings—”
"Temporarily," Lulu said. "Thank you."
"The abbot of Yuna's Cloister will be pleased to quarter Lady Yuna's guardians. He was a summoner once himself, after all."
Lulu's expression sharpened at the name, but she merely nodded.
Proceeding down and through the guts of Brother's airship, they emerged in the sunlit plaza before the ruined Palace of St. Bevelle. There they found a company of warrior monks waiting at attention. Juno must have dispatched them as an escort. The leader, a leathery-faced sergeant, struggled to hold his composure. "Lord Isaaru?" There were tears dribbling under his cheek-guards. "High Summoner Isaaru?"
Stepping down onto the pavement, Isaaru blessed them with Yevon's prayer. "Sergeant Wedge." He smiled into that expectant hush. "Sin is dead."
Pandemonium erupted. The squad broke ranks, surging forward to scoop Isaaru onto Wedge's shoulders with cheers and shouts. The commotion drew workmen tumbling out of the ruins, wary of the airship but eager to join in the celebration. Summoner and guardians were swept along by an impromptu parade. Clergy emerged from the palace's outbuildings, priests and nuns abandoning themselves in undignified whoops of glee, some still carrying scrolls and books rescued from the archives. But no children, Auron thought. The upper reaches of the city were windy and deserted, waiting like Besaid village for life to return.
No one questioned the oddly-dressed woman in Isaaru's train. Those who did notice her seemed disinclined to approach, although there were a few furtive glances and whispers. Ignoring them, Lulu walked with chin raised, lids lowered and back straight, jostling against Auron: sun-blinded, he guessed, or perhaps still reacquainting herself with human senses and limbs. Her bare feet troubled him.
"Stop scowling," she murmured, amused. "I can see you tallying every cobblestone against Cid's account."
The throng continued to swell until they reached Yuna's Cloister. There, another squad blocked most of the crowd, allowing Isaaru and his guardians to pass inside. Their arrival overturned the garden's tranquility. Priests and nuns converged on Isaaru in a joyous tide, eager to be blessed by the summoner fresh back from his journey. Warrior monks mobbed Sir Auron, begging to shake his hand. Some dared to speculate on Lord Braska's or Lady Yuna's pride in his latest exploits.
Lulu melted away from the crush. Auron finally spotted her beside the fountain, gazing up at the glass and metal statue of Yuna turning on toe-tip above the central jet. Noting Auron's look, she gave a minute nod, eyes brimming.
She did not escape notice for long, however. An acolyte broke from the crowd and charged towards her, his red hair and brown complexion marking him as an islander. "You!? But you're not real! I've atoned for my sins, I— I— Lady, let me go! I renounce you! I—" He made Yevon's sign in a warding gesture.
"Your sins are your own, Treno, as is your will," Lulu said. "But there is no shame in dreams."
"No shame? I followed you. I loved you. I thought you were merciful. But you killed my son, my wife!"
Heads began to turn. Isaaru touched Auron's elbow and mouthed, Go. By the time he had pushed through the scrum, a second priest was converging on Lulu. Auron nearly collided with the man, intending to throw both men into the fountain if necessary to cover Lulu's escape. He stopped short at the sight of Zuke's bald head rising above his collar.
"Now, what's the trouble, my son? Why— well, well, there's a face I haven't seen in a while! The Lady? Gracious, no, this lady is one of my oldest students, a former guardian of mine, as a matter of fact. Nothing more extraordinary than a black mage with a quick temper, so I'd advise you to leave her alone. If you'll excuse us."
Zuke curled a solicitous arm around Lulu's shoulders and steered her towards a door under one side of the vaulted main entrance. Auron shoved past Sin's devotee and followed. Entering the corridor that circled the building, Zuke turned into an office and nearly closed its door in Auron's face. Zuke's jovial smile evaporated.
"Sir Auron?" He waved him in. "Come, come. I suppose I should not be surprised to see you here, since I've apparently gone mad. Or perhaps young Treno is right, and this is all a dream sent by Sin to test a priest's convictions." Eyes watering, he drew his chair out from his desk and gestured for Lulu to sit. "Either way, I'm delighted to see you, my dear."
She sat down like a sleepwalker. Auron hovered at her shoulder, fuming. This looked too much like an interrogation.
"Father," she said. "It's not Sin's toxin, I promise you."
"Then what?" Zuke's query held no hint of challenge, only bewilderment. "I don't believe half the stories I hear, but these dreams, now, they aren't something Bevelle's crafted to keep the people calm. Even I have dreamed of you, thankfully as yourself and not as… some pagan goddess, shall we say."
"I'm sorry. It's a long story."
"And I'm rather short on time, seeing as Isaaru's going to stand there until he gets sunstroke. I must deliver him to the maesters, who await him in the refectory. Well." Zuke puffed out his cheeks. "Whatever you've been up to, please allow me to undo some of the wear and tear?"
Lulu bowed her head. "Please." Her hands still gripped the coat over the spot where Auron's sword had gone in, although Phoenix Down and Al Bhed potions had knitted flesh and bone together. Zuke bent, placing his fingertips across the red line ringing her throat and the scars on her crossed wrists. Auron felt the edge of the spell: a slow, uplifting rush of Cura flooding the body with tingling warmth, easing aches and pains.
Lulu melted into the chair. "Thank you, Father," she said. "Would you teach me that, sometime?"
Zuke's eyebrows climbed. "You've changed."
"Perhaps I've finally had my fill of destroying things."
The old man stiffened, gazing down at her. He glanced briefly at Auron for answers, but the guardian might as well be stone. "Is there anything else I can do for you, my friends?"
"Clothing and lodging," Lulu said. "A room for two, if possible." Noting Zuke's brows making another bid for the ceiling, she added, "Sir Auron seems to think I need a guardian."
"A meal," Auron said. "In private."
"Hm. Yes, it might be best for you to avoid the feast." Zuke collected himself. "Very well. I'll have something brought to you while we prepare quarters. In the meantime, rest here, enjoy the garden, and pray, if you still can. Later, I trust, we can have a long talk."
Next Chapter: "War in Abeyance"
Author's Notes
Chapter renumbering: originally Chapter 46, posted Dec 2011