Disclaimer: I don't own Final Fantasy, or any of the characters used in this fic. They all belong to Square Enix and their respective designers. I only own any of my original characters that I choose to include, as well as any of my own original plot ideas.

For The Sea

A/N: Pre-FFX.

"Why the hell're you still awake?" Jecht yawned, crawling out from beneath his tarp.

Even sitting feet away by the fire, Auron can smell the booze on his breath. This was just another night wasted because Jecht couldn't go a day without his favorite vice. In Auron's opinion, liquor was best enjoyed in moderation. Not while one was supposed to be on guard duty.

"It's your fault," he retorted, scowling. "If you could keep yourself in check, you'd know that you were supposed to take first watch."

The drunkard paused a moment, casting his glance to the ground by the tarp where an empty bottle lay. He turned, giving it a good kick that sent it off into the waters of the Moonflow. Auron could only look away and sigh. First the man allowed himself to get stone drunk, and then he attempted to correct his mistake by littering one of Spira's most beautiful natural landscapes.

Jecht sat down on the bank, leaning back on his hands. "You're pissed, right?"

Auron glanced into the fire, listening to it crackle. He was, and yet he wasn't. Over the course of their journey so far, he'd gained a bit of respect for this man claiming to be a stranger to Spira. The swordsman often imagined that, were Jecht's story at all true, he must have been living in a hell far greater than the one that waited for sinners sent to the Farplane.

Without a word, he shook his head, knowing that Jecht wasn't watching.

Maybe he really believed the outlandish tale. Perhaps even pitied this man whose sole obsession was finding his way back home.

"You ever thought about having kids, Auron?"

The question was sudden, having nothing to do with the previous topic. He thought on it for a moment before giving an answer.

"After seeing the way you behave," he laughed, "I don't think I could handle them."

"Ha. That's the same as admitting that you're afraid of 'em."

A silence passed between them for a moment.

"You miss your boy, don't you, Jecht?"

The man didn't respond, still staring out across the Moonflow. "His mother named him, you know. She grew up living with the water, wanted her baby's name to really mean something. So she named him for the sea," Jecht stretched out his hand, sending a ripple through the water. "For the tide."