Part 9 XxxxxxXxxxxxX We make our way around the temple towards the cliff-face, finding a sunny patch of grass sheltered within a grove of trees and sit there. Braska looks exhausted but at peace, and for a time we sit quietly looking down at the ocean below. Further out in the deeper blue water the fishing boats can be seen, indistinct figures moving about beneath the waving sails. I know that Braska is waiting for me. "My Lord..." I begin, then hesitate. "Sir Jecht...says things...and he looks at me..." My words come slowly, with difficulty. I am looking at my hands, not directly at him, but I see his eyebrows raise. "He implies, something...he thinks that we, that I am unnatural." "Unnatural?" His voice is low and soothing, but it does not make it easier for me to talk. "Our relations. Th-th-that we are...d-d-d" "That we are lovers?" He looks at me but I turn my head sharply away to look at the grass beneath my hand. It moves, tiny blades shifting in the sunlight and air. I don't reply. "Why does it make you angry? Do you think it might be true?" He asks, gently. My fingers grasp one of the tiny blades of grass and tug. It snaps between my fingers, leaving a thin trail of sap. Broken so easily. "I'm not...I'm not...what he says." "Of course not. But Auron...there is nothing sinful about loving someone, and being loved in return. I was married, I should know." "The teachings say that relations...between m-men are an abomination." "Teachings penned by a monk in the third century, who feared that Sin's ravages would wipe out Spira's population? The only reason anyone remembers them is because the subject is so fascinating. You should read the entire thing sometime, it's quite enlightening." I fall silent. I know that he is right and I should be as able to shrug off Jecht's taunts as he is. I know it's ridiculous, but he is right that I am afraid that what Jecht says is true. "There's still something else, isn't there? You don't have to be afraid to tell me." He looks at me and his grey eyes reflect the sky from above and the grass below, and the deeper hues of the sea. Under his influence I find more words within and speak again. "My parents. I don't remember..." I am more shocked at the words that escape me than he is. "What do you remember?" I frown, thinking about it. "My mother's dress, it was wh-white. I could see it against the grass. The b- blood. My father's face." I shook my head. I could see him looking at me, his face a pale oval with dark hair in my mind. I'd never remembered seeing his face before. "You saw them die?" "I don't know. I don't remember." He has a puzzled look, as though uncertain what to make of what I've told him, and we fall silent again, both lost in our thoughts. "I don't want you to be angry about Jecht anymore." "I understand." "Auron, that wasn't an order. I meant...have you thought that perhaps Sir Jecht is trying to tell you something?" "That I'm a...p-" His hand touches mine, stopping the word before it can get stuck in my throat. "I think he sees quite clearly, something that you don't want to." I attempt to protest but he silences me with his own. "That I love you. How much I love you." His eyes are greyer now, a darker stormy ocean of colour. "When you asked to be my guardian you agreed to follow me to the very edge of the farplane and no further. So I have no right...to ask you, to follow me in this." His eyes drift downwards to my lips and I feel a shock of sensation in the pit of my stomach. His hand on mine shifts slightly, then moves to my knee. I feel as though I cannot move, suspended in stillness as he leans towards me and his lips move closer, brushing lightly against mine. My eyes close as his have done, and his hand tightens once as he presses his lips more firmly against mine. The sensation is pleasant, his lips warm and pliant, molding to mine, so that when he pulls away our lips cling a little as though reluctant to part from each other. He examines me intently, searching for an answer to his question, but I have none to give. I cannot reconcile Braska's words with Jecht's jeering taunts, the kiss I just received with my memories. My confusion must be evident because Braska does not seem impatient or embarrassed at my silence, and there is only a hint of ruefulness in his eyes when he looks away. "My Lord..." "It's alright." "Lord Braska!" He looks back at my tone. "I love you." "Auron...I already knew that." He lies back in the grass and closes his eyes. "Don't worry, it will be alright." He says, and after a time I think he falls asleep. I sit beside him, guarding his rest, but my mind is in turmoil, and remains so for many days and nights following. XxxxxxXxxxxxX Jecht grins at our approach and hoists up a fish almost two-thirds his own height. "Check it out, guys!" The young fisherman with him does not cease his work filleting and cleaning but looks up and his eyes crinkle. "Catch of the day, that one! Think we should cut him up now for tonight, eh?" "I dunno, Marro." Jecht grabs the tail and head and holds it at chest height. "I reckon it'd make a nice trophy on the wall." "Better eating though, we'll have a big party tonight, better than last night, ya?" Jecht laughs and drops the fish beside Marro, and watches as he expertly slices the flesh from the backbone, flipping it and cutting away the fins, tossing the unwanted parts back into the sea. Lesser gulls swoop and dive around the boats as the day's catch is cleaned, and nets are strung out on the beach to dry. Children also run around on the dock, some working, others talking and watching the men. It's a busy scene. "Later, Marro." Jecht tells his friend, who looks up. "I'll see you later, tonight! And if you come back to Besaid, you fish with me again, right?" He grinned at Jecht, but then saw Braska and his smile faltered slightly. Jecht seems not to notice. "You bet." He came over, and we wandered up the path towards the village. XxxxxxXxxxxxX The boat to Kilika is not crowded now but it will be from Kilika to Luca. Braska talks to the captain and our cabins are assured, and remembering our difficulty finding room to sleep on the island he asks for and receives permission to sleep on board the following night as well while in dock. Our cabin is tiny, meant to sleep four it is crowded with the three of us at once. Jecht does not take long to escape. "I'm going outside, gonna check out the view." Braska looks up, I know he dislikes being on the water although he does not say anything. "Be careful, Sir Jecht. If Sin...comes..." Jecht is dismissive of his concern. "How often does that happen?" "Often enough." I reply. "Sin is sometimes attracted to boats. The small boats, like the fishing fleet you went with yesterday are usually safe, but...some people think Sin can sense the people on board, if there are many, and rises from the depths to search for them." Jecht frowns. "Well, I'll make sure I've got something to hang on to then." He grins at me. "Just in case." Later I leave Braska who is about to begin his meditations and although he doesn't speak his eyes tell me to be careful too. Jecht is standing by the railing, and I am surprised that the one time I am not looking for him he is easy to find. I had only intended to get some fresh air, so my steps falter when I see him, not wishing to give offence by seeming to ignore him. He looks back when I approach. "Shouldn't you be watching over Braska, Auron?" "I think he will be safe enough while he completes his morning prayers." I move to the railing beside him and look out over the ocean, the breeze refreshing against my skin. "Does he worry like that all the time?" Jecht asks, giving me a sharp look from under his dark brows. I consider for a moment, then decide to tell him. "Braska's wife...died. She was travelling by boat with their baby when Sin attacked. Yuna, the baby, survived, she did not." "Ohhhh...right." Jecht looked away. "That's tough. Poor guy." "Yes. So...be careful." He looks startled but I do not wait, I leave him, walking around the deck before returning below. I edge around Braska carefully in order not to disturb his prayer trance and select one of the smaller bunks. Jecht will have to take the top one as despite feeling the lack of exercise from this leg of our journey I do not care for climbing. I close my eyes but my thoughts constantly drift back to yesterday, when Braska kissed me. Jecht seems to have noticed nothing different, and I open my eyes and look at Braska who is kneeling with an expression as pure as a child's. He looks the same. I am afraid it is only I who have changed, somewhere inside. I close my eyes again and my lips remember his, the way it felt when his hand moved over my knee, the look in his eyes. The memory is enough to stir the feelings again that I felt at the time, an exquisite anguish that lifts me up and destroys me at the same time. I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to become the kind of person who would hurt another for some sick pleasure. But Braska said it was alright. That it was beautiful. His eyes told me he felt the same thing. My agonising thoughts take me no closer to resolution and I turn in the bed, onto my side facing towards the wall. I slept little the night before, and wonder if I will be able to sleep again without this torment that I feel, but my eyes close despite the emotional battering my body is experiencing from within and I am awoken later by Braska. It is almost evening, the sky deepening blue as we make our way to the main room where the meals are served. Braska is far from a fading flower when it comes to eating, digging in cheerfully to the rather plain fare. My table manners are more restrained, but he and Jecht are like children, Jecht especially who chews with his mouth open and talks unrestrainedly. He begins telling Braska about his efforts catching the fish yesterday and Braska laughs once and drops his spoon which splatters stew down the front of his robe. It is Jecht's turn to laugh at him, and he grins back. "Another one to add to the collection." and he points at a red streak down the left side. "That's from having barbecue at the Luca cafe. And this is an egg I had for breakfast in Bevelle." and he points it out as well. "I never seem to wash them out in time." "Not a problem for me." Jecht says and runs his hand over his bare chest. 'Or for good old Auron here. He eats like a girl." I look at Braska whose eyes are warm on me, but I have given up responding whenever Jecht insults my masculinity and am able to ignore the slight. His words are as insignificant as pebbles flung carelessly at the walls of a fortress whose defences are crumbling from within. That evening when we return to the cabin Jecht hoists himself up into the top bunk without complaint, and Braska enters the small adjoining cubicle for ablutions. He washes out the mark on his robe and emerges wearing his night robe. It is short, made of fine lawn and clings to his hip and thigh in the places where it is damp from where he splashed water on it. I look away from him but the image of his body remains behind my eyes for a long time, and for the second night it takes me a long time to sleep. XxxxxxXxxxxxX End of Part 9