Typical Disclaimer-ness: I don't own FFX, anything familiar ain't mine, yadda yadda.
Setting: Mostly in the Farplane, after the end. It's slightly AU, as almost all of my works are.
Summary: Auron arrives at the Farplane, thinking his proper afterlife is about to begin. His old friends, however, have other plans in mind. Warning: Aurikku-ness.
Mountains colored deep blues and violets lined the horizon, and perpetual sunset hues adorned the sky. Great green grass whispered in the wind, and massive trees of all kinds dotted the fields. A lake smoother than glass filled a valley between the two largest oaks, and occasionally a bird swooped to glide above the blue-green surface. The scent of lemon trees, roses, and various other flora hung in the air.
The genuine Farplane differed greatly from the glimpse Guadosalam offered to the living, Auron noted. True, he only went to the Guado's most famous tourist attraction once in his life (on Lord Braska's pilgrimage), but he remembered the visit clearly. That had been the last time he saw his parents. After experiencing their stony silence and uncharacteristic apathy, Auron had vowed never to see the Farplane before his time.
The guardian squinted over his lenses at the vista, wondering if Lord Braska and Jecht were here. As soon as Auron finished his thought, he heard two voices shout his name. Turning, Auron shook his head with a grin.
Jecht loped across the field, all signs of the last battle gone. Braska followed Jecht, taking smaller steps that made it appear he was gliding.
Auron met them halfway, accepting Jecht's overenthusiastic embrace with a strangled guffaw. "Jecht, you'll choke me to a second death!"
"You're tougher than that, old friend," Jecht snorted, then shouted at Braska, "Hurry up! Or I'm gonna drag Auron off to a blitzball game without you!"
"As if he would willingly go!" Braska retorted, finally reaching the two. The summoner embraced his guardian gentler than Jecht, saying, "You have come to your final rest, Auron. A well deserved rest, I might add."
"Enough talking," Jecht pulled at Auron's and Braska's sleeves. "I've heard there's a blitzball stadium somewhere around here! I've gotta show these guys how the best blitzes!"
Auron rolled his eyes. He had missed his friends dearly while traveling to Zanarkand a second time. He had not missed Jecht's blitzball obsession in the slightest; Tidus and Wakka prevented that from ever happening. "I would rather find a place to meditate and train."
Jecht frowned. "You're dead. Why do you need to train?"
"Hmph. You're dead. Why do you need to play blitzball?"
Braska interrupted them with a laugh. "There is both a blitzball stadium and a place to train nearby. We should start walking if we are to reach either."
Shrugging, Jecht turned and led the way. Auron bowed to Braska, deferring the next position to the summoner, and took up the rear. This was the way they had traveled on the pilgrimage. During the time that Jecht was clueless to Spira's geography, Auron would have been damned to the Farplane if he let the drunkard guard Braska's back.
Auron wondered momentarily what the others were doing. Where would they go to celebrate the Eternal Calm? What would they do, now that their futures were guaranteed safe from Sin?
Auron shrugged the questions off. Eventually he would learn of their escapades, when they themselves came to the Farplane. For now, he settled to enjoy his old friends' company and revel in his hard-earned rest.
Growling loudly and marching angrily, Auron made his way from his Farplane home to the Guadosalam extension. Most of the other sent souls cleared a path, but the few that refused to budge were shoved out of the way.
Auron was not happy. Auron was disgruntled and vexed and aggravated, but certainly not happy. This was the seventh time in five days he had been summoned to Guadosalam to answer the thoughts of the living, and he was beginning to resent the intrusion on his afterlife.
"It's not like I even do much," Auron muttered to himself. "All I do is stand there while they talk and plead and wail. Why can't they respect that my story is done and they should get on with theirs?"
Auron had known the others would be upset by his passing. He would have felt offended if they had not. But their refusal to accept his death somehow led them to the conclusion that a life's end could be petitioned.
So much for resting in peace, Auron scowled.
The group surprised Auron. Rather than celebrate the Calm like they should have, they had instead visited him mere hours after Sin's defeat to complain of his departure.
"Auron!" Tidus yelled, tears threatening to roll down his face. "You gotta come back! It isn't right, you not being here to celebrate with us! You defeated Sin, too, you deserve to live through the Calm!"
Auron (being unable to do otherwise) hovered above the clouds and watched solemnly. Tidus cried and waved his arms and stormed about the room, spouting nonsense like 'rewards' and 'staying in Spira.'
The others were there as well. Yuna stood off to the side, waiting for Tidus' rant to finish. She had not bothered to hold back tears, done with being the ever-pleasant summoner. Lulu also discarded her cold demeanor, pleading with her eyes for Auron to return. Wakka was as bad as Tidus, pacing the room and juggling his blitzball that spoke his despair. Kimahri stood in front of the door leading back to Guadosalam, his countenance one of disapproval. Auron had not been sure at the time what the Ronso disapproved of, but it later became clear the Ronso thought the guardian deserved to live a life in the Calm.
Aside from Kimahri, the only member that stood away from the group was Rikku. She crouched in the back, face down and drawing patterns in the dustless floor. Drops of tears rained on the ground, but nothing was done to rub them away. Auron assumed the girl's dislike (or fear) of the Farplane made her quieter than normal.
The second visit had been Tidus alone the next day. The boy had taken the loss of his birth father with difficulty; the loss of the man who raised him had hit him worse. . . .
"Come on, old man," Tidus pleaded. Tears rolled down his face, the fight having been lost quite some time ago. "What's to do in the Farplane? You're probably bored stiff. No fiends, no fights, Jecht rambling on about blitzball. . ."
Tidus' list continued for a time, allowing Auron to examine him. He had changed since first arriving in Spira, from a cocky, arrogant blitzer to a man that defended others at the drop of a hat. His Caladbolg swung in his hand as he gestured violently, the blade shimmering in the Farplane's light.
Auron wished souls could speak with the living. He would have reassured Tidus that, no, he did not think him a crybaby anymore and that he was very proud of the man he became. He would have also added the request that they stopped plaguing him with pleas to return to Spira.
His final rest had been ten years overdue. Why couldn't they see that?
Yuna visited directly after Tidus. This visit, while calmer, also wore at Auron's patience.
"Sir Auron," Yuna bowed, her varicolored eyes blinking desperately at him, "please, come back. We all miss you. I– I realize that fairness does not exist in the world, but this is too cruel a fate. Come back to us, please."
The summoner was right. Fairness did not exist in the world. She was also wrong; his fate was not 'too cruel.' He had reacted foolishly and got what he deserved: death.
Wakka came on the third day, in better control of his emotions than Tidus. Barely.
"Yo, Sir Auron," the blitzer greeted, scratching his head nervously. "Um, I gotta thank you still for coming with us on the pilgrimage. You were a lot of help to us. But, you know, we still don't have our act together, ya. You gotta come back, or we'll all be dead the next time we go out on the Highroad. Tidus can't even play blitzball right, and he's got the blood for it, ya. And Yuna. . . I don't think she's stopped crying since she. . . sent you. And everyone else's in a right state, too."
Yes yes yes, Auron tried to shout. I know that everyone is 'in a right state.' I believe the term is called mourning. And, in time, mourning passes and people get on with their lives. . . and let the dead get on with their afterlives.
Of course, Auron had done nothing but stand and watch. He was going to find the person in charge of the Farplane someday and have a serious discussion on why exactly the dead could not move around a little while the living spilled their heart and soul. Honestly, it was boring and tedious with nothing to do while the living talked.
His next two visitors were not the most vocal ones, however. On the fourth day Lulu visited, belts clinking loudly in the Farplane's quiet.
"Sir Auron," Lulu curtsied. "I realize that death after so long is a sweet reward to you. Were I in your place. . . I would have difficulty leaving as well. But there are people here who care about you. There are people here who miss you. There is someone who. . . loves you."
Auron blinked. Someone. . . loved him? What absurdity was that
"You cannot leave that soul to mourn your loss. She needs you. We all need you, but she needs you most. Come back."
Lulu left after her request. Kimahri visited that same day, hours afterward. For a second Auron had thought the Ronso would simply stand and stare; he certainly had done that little during the pilgrimage. Instead, the Ronso spoke longer than Auron ever recalled him speaking.
"Kimahri respect Sir Auron," the Ronso began. "Kimahri respect Sir Auron's passing. Kimahri think Sir Auron did much in life and beyond, and should have rest. But not now. Sir Auron rest later, come home now. Sir Auron no belong here yet. Belong in Spira, with Lady Yuna and Sir Tidus and Sir Wakka and Lady Lulu and Lady Rikku. Lord Braska and Sir Jecht would agree, Kimahri think."
With that said and done, Kimahri had nodded and exited with not so much as a second glance. Auron had to take a minute in order to recollect himself, surprised and somewhat moved by the Ronso's words.
After Kimahri's visit, Auron had spoken with Braska and Jecht. Indeed, both the summoner and the blitzer felt that Auron deserved to live in the Calm he had sacrificed so much to bring. But neither of the two had an answer to Auron's sarcastically-delivered question.
How did a dead soul return to life?
That was the flaw in the party's plea Auron had trouble with. He was bored in the Farplane. Blitzball and watching the living, well, live were the only occupations in the afterlife. A single temple had been erected, but most of the summoners went there to pray. If he had to 'mingle' with the summoners of the past one more time he'd. . . wish fervently he could kill the annoying pests.
All in all, Auron wanted to return to the world of Spira and the living. Life would be much more exciting than the dull bane that was the Farplane. Even becoming a Chocobo rancher would prove more enthralling than an eternity in the Farplane.
No one had explained to him exactly how he was supposed to resurrect himself, however. So Auron resigned himself to the Farplane and an eternity of being bothered by Tidus and Yuna and everyone and all their descendants until no one remembered his name.
Auron sighed. He hoped it was soon. He couldn't handle the pace of the visits for long.
The guardian betted he knew the visitor that was calling him so loudly. The sole member of the party that had not, as of yet, visited him alone: the Al Bhed thief, Rikku.
Arriving in Guadosalam, Auron found himself correct. Rikku stood hunched in the center of the Farplane, glancing about warily. Auron had not seen her this apprehensive since the Thunder Plains. Nor had he seen her this upset since Home was destroyed. Tears ran unchecked, and had been for some time, Auron noted. Her hair stood out in several directions, her eyes bloodshot, and the clothes wrinkled.
Auron stood, head cocked slightly. This could not be the perky thief from the pilgrimage. A depressed Guado must have come and eaten the real Rikku.
The voice shot that idea down. It was still Rikku's voice, though it trembled far more than usual. "Hi," she said first, gulping hard.
Auron waited. He gave her ten seconds until the rant started. Ten, nine, eight—
"I hope you're doing well."
—Five, four, three—
"It's gotta be nice, being in the Farplane. Is it kinda like. . . I dunno, heaven?"
Huh. No rant. Being dead must have skewered his timing.
Rikku went on, oblivious to his surprise. "Course, you don't move very much, huh? That's okay, what I've got to say doesn't require you to move around a whole lot.
"We all care about you. But I think. . . I think I care about you more. Why, I'm sure you're asking. Or, well, maybe you're not asking. You were pretty good at taking stuff at face-value while seeing the deeper meaning behind it all. If that makes any sense to you. But that's not why I'm here.
"I care about you more, because I think that you should do what makes you happy. And if staying in the Farplane makes you happy, then I want you to stay. Your happiness would make me happy.
"The others don't think I care about you. Well, Tidus and Wakka do, at least. Lulu and Kimahri seem to understand. And Yuna. . . she's a bit confused. I thinks she understands, but she doesn't see why you can't be happy here, with us."
Auron marveled at the change in the girl. She was usually so upbeat, and bright. Not to mention irksome and a mite too cheery for his liking. However, this solemnity of hers was a new face to him. One that he found he did not like in the least.
"So, that's what I came here to say," Rikku went on, speaking mostly to the floor than to him. "Stay in the Farplane if you want. If you want to come back. . . then there'll be six people waiting anxiously for you. I know you'll find a way back if you really, really want to. You're Auron, you always find a way."
Auron. Not 'Sir Auron' or 'Legendary Guardian Auron' but simple, plain old 'Auron.' Not many spoke to him like that, like he was an average person. Tidus had been the sole member of the party during the pilgrimage that didn't trip over his words while talking with him.
Yet the way Rikku said it. . . there was something else. Something he was missing. Hero-worship? Gratitude? Respect?
Rikku's behavior baffled him to no end. Why was she telling him to 'do what he wanted' rather than ordering him to find a way back to Spira?
She turned toward the door, to leave him standing there bemused and clueless. She stopped, twisted her head this way and that, then swivelled around once more and raised her head. Her red-rimmed eyes met his.
"E muja oui, Auron. I love you."
Rikku left.
E muja oui, Auron. I love you.
Still those words echoed in his mind.
E muja oui, Auron.
A chant that never ceased.
I love you.
Rikku was barely sixteen. She didn't know what love was. She meant a crush, most likely. A crush that felt like the proverbial love.
And if Auron told himself that for every minute of every hour, he was certain he would believe it. Eventually. In perhaps thirty years.
When he went completely, utterly, and doubtlessly insane.
A small oak tree did for a nice seat, the branches cupping around his frame and cradling him gently. Leaves occasionally floated into his face, but they were easily brushed off.
He had sat here for the last two weeks, mulling over Rikku's visit. No more calls rang in his head for visits. Auron suspected the girl had a hand in stopping them.
I know you'll find a way back if you really, really want to.
Oh, how he wanted to. If only for a day, to see if she really meant her words. Of course, nothing would come of it. It was a mistaken crush, after all. Besides, he harbored no feelings for the girl. Right?
Right.
Maybe.
Dammit.
Auron sensed the presence long before the name was announced. "Did you need something, milord?"
The summoner stood beside the tree, peering at the vista with the guardian. At length, Braska turned to Auron and said simply, "You want to return to the living."
Auron shifted. He had never lied to or kept secrets from Braska. Posthumous habits were difficult to begin. "It is a dream that will not bear fruit, Braska. I'm not a fayth. I can't make dreams become reality."
"It was also said that Sin could not be defeated," Braska reminded him. "Try not to discard hopes and dreams simply because they appear impossible to achieve. Try harder, in fact, to achieve them."
"What do you suggest I do?" Auron sighed. "Wish upon a shooting star?"
"That," Braska smiled. "Or accept my offer."
Auron jerked. "What?"
"We're tired of you being mopey and spoiling the mood up here," Braska said airily. "So, all the people of the Farplane have agreed to give you a chance to return to the living on the condition that you don't die in the next twenty years or so."
Auron frowned. "You're surely joking. Give me my life—in exchange for a promise that I don't die anytime soon? That doesn't make sense."
Braska turned thoughtful. "Well, Jecht was all for making you swear to join the Besaid Aurochs for thirty years. If you would prefer that—"
"No!" Auron leapt off the tree. "The first offer's fine! A godsend, even."
Braska chuckled. "I thought you'd see it that way. This is goodbye for now, then, until you return. And keep an eye on Jecht's boy, would you? I don't want him making my little Yuna a mother too soon. Not until they're both old enough to beat you into the ground."
Auron gulped. Tidus was not the one he feared; it would be quite a while before the apprentice bested the master. The image of Yuna's Holy spell, however, petrified him more than the thought of playing blitzball for fifty years. "They're old enough to make their own decisions, Braska."
The summoner sighed. "So they are, so they are."
The conversation cut short. Auron's body began to disappear, fading into the clouds. The last thing Auron saw of the Farplane was Braska's content smile, promising him a friend when he came back.
Auron woke slowly. The Mi'ihen Highroad greeted him, the dust filling his lungs and making him cough.
Quickly Auron placed a hand over his heart. A steady beat thumped in his chest; his body hummed. He was alive. Not dead, not unsent, but alive.
A second observation occurred to him. His vision was clear in both eyes, not solely the left. Auron went as far as poking his right eye to convince himself of the fact. It hurt like hell, but the pain made him all the happier.
Auron felt like dancing. He felt like screaming at the top of his lungs his glee. He felt like jumping in a lake and thrashing about for the sheer pleasure of it. Most of all, he felt like finding someone with whom to share his happiness.
His first guess would have been to head north, toward Guadosalam. However, Auron trusted that Braska had something to do with his location. If Braska felt that Auron needed to be on the Highroad, then he needed to be on the Highroad.
"Get down, Wakka!"
Auron turned his head toward Lulu's voice. It sounded a bit off, somewhere in the forest below the path. Auron wandered off the path and into the forest, trying to focus on the sound of the waging battle.
"Ha!" Tidus' cry directed Auron eastward, and finally the guardian came across the fight.
A fiend had stumbled across the party, but Auron was unconcerned. They were more than enough for the unsent soul.
Yuna was busy casting Cure on Kimahri, healing a cut that bled into the blue fur. Rikku stood at a distance from the fight and pair, her back to Auron.
The fiend exploded into pyreflies, and the group let out a collective sigh. There were no cheers or hurrahs, only demoralized faces and dull kudos.
You never know someone's opinion of you until you're dead, Auron thought in bemusement.
Movement caught Auron's eye. A stringy wolf padded behind the party, undetected by even Kimahri's sensitive hearing. Its eyes were trained on Wakka, the clueless rear guard.
Wordlessly Auron shifted his Masamune into his hand, bursting out of the forest and swinging fiercely. The wolf yowled in pain, finally catching the party's attention. They all span and brought their weapons up, Tidus and Lulu hurrying to Wakka's side before they recognized the red-cloaked guardian.
"Hmph," Auron snorted, resting his blade on his shoulder. "Didn't I teach all of you to pay better attention to the rear? Fiends don't like it when their meal looks back at them."
A long pause ensued, one that Auron expected. They never had been able to take surprises well.
"A-Auron?" Yuna broke the quiet. "Is that you?"
Auron scratched his head sheepishly. "Yes. I. . . er, got kicked out of the Farplane. Something about me being too 'mopey.'"
Silence ensued. Then Tidus yelled the guardian's name and embraced the warrior. Chuckling, Auron patted Tidus on the back in return.
Everyone crushed him in an embrace, even the cool Kimahri. Amid the mass of bodies, Auron found Rikku's arm and pulled her to him, dipping his head to her ear. "E muja oui, duu."
Rikku's green eyes snapped up to his brown ones. No one made any signs of hearing the whispered promise, yelling and cheering too loudly for the whisper to be noticed. But Rikku had noticed. And if his sight wasn't failing him, he saw hope and love shining in her gaze.