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Auron pivoted his hands, and the blade came flashing upwards. Scowling, he took one step in front of the mage. Fuming at his shoulder, Lulu barely managed to bite back a snarling retort that might well have ended any chance of bargaining her way out of this.

"I see that she has her own Guardian," Yojimbo laughed. The ghostly specter drifted nonchalantly through Auron's solid form, looming over the woman who held her ground with a venomous glare. "No, you stupid fools! This--" the Fayth's hand passed through Lulu's hair and ear as she jerked away-- "would hardly be worth the effort. Oh, yes, I envy the living. Nowadays, the only living souls I see are self-centered Summoners rushing to their deaths, haggling with me over the cost of salvation. Where are the hymns, the praise-songs to my glory, the ceremonies and the feast-days, the shy nuns and scheming Maesters and fornicating priests? All my diversions gone, since I was walled up in this Yevon-forsaken wilderness! No, by all means, enjoy your sick dalliance with death, girl. Do it here. Right now. I'll watch."

"Absolutely not!" Lulu snapped, her cheeks nearly the same hue as her eyes. "You have no right to ask Sir Auron--"

"Lulu," Auron interrupted, a rumble of amusement creeping into his voice as he turned towards her. "It is hardly a sacrifice for me."

The sorceress stared at him. "You can't be serious."

The grizzled swordsman regarded her levelly through the ghostly form of the Fayth hovering between them. "Yuna needs six Guardians in the morning. Have you a better idea?"

Lulu wished she knew for certain whether Auron's opaque expression was masking concern, teasing, or mere indifference. Nevertheless, she could not quibble with his pragmatism. Her own words to Tidus came back to jeer at her: All you need is determination. If you have that, you don't need love. Apparently fate meant to make her test that proposition.

"It's your call," Auron said gently.

Yojimbo hung motionless before her, his pitiless gaze burrowing into her like maggots. The tick, tick, tick of dripping water striking wet stone echoed loudly somewhere in the dim chamber, almost as loudly as her own heartbeat drumming in her ears. She had the uncanny sensation that the dead warriors were comparing notes about her through some unspoken communion, gloating over her warm, pliant flesh. But no. That was fear's sly whispering, and she would never yield to its craven counsel. Auron deserved better of her.

"Very well," she replied coolly. "If Sir Auron is willing, I accept."

Yojimbo let out a ringing bark of laughter. "You needn't pretend that it's such a hardship, girl. The scent of the Farplane is all over you."

Lulu gave the Fayth a withering look. "You know, there is a difference between a hero and one who has merely fallen. Now. Out of our way." As if brushing a curtain aside, she waved a hand through the spectral shape that had insinuated itself between them.

Yojimbo sniffed derisively and withdrew to the open doorway to observe.

Lulu stood with her arms at her sides, hands clenched, head bowed. At least Auron's solid figure was between her and that hollow mask's eerie scrutiny. Nevertheless, she felt naked and exposed, and they had not even begun. Sir Auron, however, seemed unfazed. Self-collected as ever, he was watching her with detached patience and just a hint of smugness tugging at the corners of his mouth. Lulu had a sudden urge to shake him. How could he be so calm? Was he actually enjoying this?

Yet his actions were more than considerate. When she hesitated, Sir Auron removed his gauntlet and tucked it into his belt, then took one of her nerveless hands in his own and lifted it in a curiously formal gesture. The sorceress flinched. Tonight the shimmering jolt of his touch seemed alien, unsettling. Bringing it to his lips, Auron brushed his mouth lightly against her wrist, holding her eyes with a riveting gaze. There he deliberately paused. A sudden nameless relief flooded through her. The mage straightened and raised her chin, acknowledging his courtly gesture with a slight nod. Auron waited for that signal before he began to scale her forearm with a ladder of exquisite kisses, still holding her eyes with fierce intimacy. Lulu was torn between basking in the unexpected thrill of having a lover look at her that way again, or smacking him soundly for his presumption.

When he reached her elbow, Sir Auron pressed her hand to his lips for another courtly kiss. Then he jerked his chin towards the side of the cavern, where tumbled rocks might provide at least a measure more dignity than the cold stone floor, not to mention fewer sickening memories. "There?"

Lulu allowed herself to be led towards a shelflike stone spur jutting from the wall. /Sacrificial altar/, she thought bitterly, imagining herself spread-eagled across it with Auron fucking her while Yojimbo hovered above them providing leering commentary. Yet there was nothing coarse in Sir Auron's manner. He relinquished her hand, removed his coat ceremonially, folded it in half and draped it over the rock. Then he settled his hands gently around her waist and hoisted her onto the ledge. Thus elevated, Lulu felt as if she were seated on a throne. With all the formality of a Summoner approaching a Fayth's inner sanctum, Auron knelt to gather one of her feet in his hands, unlaced her boot, eased it from her foot with a caress, and repeated the same chivalrous homage as before. Warmth spread up her leg as the warrior kissed her toes, her instep, her ankle, and her shin, halting chastely when he reached the knee. Suddenly the sorceress realized that the smug gleam in his eye was not directed at her at all: this stately ritual was surely not what Yojimbo had in mind! Lulu smiled down at her would-be knight and splayed a hand delicately across the top of his head, stroking his hair. Was it her imagination, or did she hear an impatient snort from the gallery when Auron gently lifted her other foot and began anew?

His simple, emphatic kisses were so artfully placed that the warm tingle had spread right to the apex of her thighs by the time Auron lowered her calf and smoothed her heavy skirt over her legs. She held out her hands in a silent invitation. When he laced his fingers with hers, she raised him to his feet and drew him close, resting her forehead against his chin and folding their hands together over her breastbone. Her heart was hammering too fast. Now and then she glimpsed a flash of red, blue, or silver out of the corner of her eye as the master of the cavern circled restlessly. The sorceress chided herself. Why fear? A capricious Fayth was hardly a threat, even if he could manifest a formidable Aeon to back up his whims. She and Auron had defeated it once today already.

But Yojimbo had glided right through Sir Auron. Could her magics accomplish any more, if they were forced to add to their blasphemies by taking on a Fayth as well as a Maester?

"It's all right," the swordsman breathed at her ear.

"Hmph," she murmured, imitating him. "I don't think much of the accommodations." Lulu raised her eyes to find the stoic warrior gazing down at her with a faint, approving smile. She brought his fingers to her lips and kissed his callouses. His fingertips roved her cheekbones lightly. When she let go, he gathered her face between his palms and sank towards her, creaking against the leather straps of her skirt.

Their mouths met. Suddenly the unwelcome presence of a ghost did not seem to matter at all, and the part of her that was dimly aware of their frustrated voyeur only laughed. Auron's kisses were warm, gentler than was his habit. Even when he began to explore her mouth with his tongue, there was a certain playful chivalry about it. /I won't break/, she thought, but she was enjoying the sweet exchange too much to correct him.

Twining her fingers in his ponytail, Lulu lost herself in the terrain of his skin. Slipping free of his mouth to kiss her way down the scar on his right cheek, she noted abstractly that he was no longer quite the strikingly handsome young man he had been ten years ago. The deep lines around his mouth, the ruined eye, and the strain that usually knitted his brows had etched his face with the same unflinching starkness as the cliffs of Djose. Yet behind the mask of his glasses, she was beginning to see his younger face beneath his skin: or perhaps, to be more accurate, his true face, the sword hidden in its sheath.

As if reading her mind, Auron paused to remove his dark lenses. Prompted by some spark of whimsy, the swordsman perched them jauntily atop her hair and inspected the effect before shaking his head and setting them aside. Lulu found herself laughing for a few precious seconds. She slipped her arms around him to hug him close. However, cold metal armor was not particularly endearing. Her hands drifted towards the clasps along his left side, but she hesitated, darting an uneasy glance towards the open passageway by which they had entered.

Auron planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "I doubt Yojimbo will let anything else disturb us," he pointed out. The warrior turned slightly to help her unbuckle the dented cuirass and pull it from his sturdy frame. Then he drew her hand to his mouth again and kissed her knuckles, caressing the back of her wrist with his thumb.

Perhaps it was only Lulu's strained nerves groping for an anchor in distressing circumstances, but the profound gentleness in his manner tonight stirred her more deeply than heady lust. Gradually, Auron lowered her hand to his chest with the same unwavering gaze. Lulu's mouth went dry when she realized that her fingertips were resting directly over his heart.

"I might," grated Yojimbo irritably, drifting closer and coming to hover directly behind Auron's back, "if you two don't stop stalling."

The precious moment cracked like an eggshell trodden underfoot, and Lulu found herself digging her nails into Auron's skin with a frustrated sigh.

"No stamina, apparently," he deadpanned. "His loss." Wordlessly, he coaxed her fingers to relax, stroking the back of her hand.

Again she felt a stab of gratitude, although the glitter of Yojimbo's eyes fixed upon the warrior's shoulderblades was probably not a good sign. "Well, we had best not keep him waiting," she murmured, kissing the white half-moons printed into Auron's chest by her nails.

Mindful that the Unsent warrior had no such problem with stamina-- rather the reverse-- Lulu began to tickle her way down his chest with playful strokes and caresses, dancing lightly over the hollows of his muscles, skimming his firm stomach with her nails. His breathing roughened as she skated lower. Lulu licked her lips provocatively, smiling a little as the stern set of Auron's features melted in response. Skipping past his belt, she placed her palm lightly over his groin, stroking him through the fabric. He leaned forward, seizing her earlobe in his teeth and growling under his breath. She gasped and went still, suddenly awash with the overpowering nearness of him, the faint scent of his charmed body, the loose ponytail brushing against the side of her neck. She started to massage him more firmly through his trousers, recalling the luscious feel of velvety skin.

Auron slid one arm behind her back to steady her and began to fondle her through her gown, rolling his free hand over her in lingering circles that seemed to pay silent worship to each of her curves. Now and then her ripped sleeve would tug painfully at half-healed wounds, but Auron was exceedingly careful to skirt around her torn arm and shoulder. He shifted his attention from her ear to her neck, savoring her white flesh with delicate, nuzzling kisses until she tipped her head back, baring her throat to his ardent mouth. Warm, panting breaths beat deliciously against her exposed skin.

With a groan, Auron released the nipple he was squeezing and laid his hand across hers, bidding her halt for a moment. He unbuckled his belt and loosened the top of his pants. Pulling away slightly, he rubbed his thumb across her palm, raised Lulu's hand for another quiet kiss, then presented it to her with a caress, trailing his fingertips down the backside of her hand like rain gliding down window-glass. Smiling at the mute request, Lulu slipped her fingers into her mouth, licked the palm suggestively while he watched, and then reached down to ease her hand inside his pants. They both sighed out as her fingers settled around his silken flesh and began to pump him with quivering, authoritative strokes. Auron began to rock against her involuntarily, steered by her supple handling. He twined his fingers in her braids and held on, kissing her cheeks sporadically.

The raw, unguarded pleasure in the warrior's half-lidded gaze transformed his whole expression, burning away the aloof mask until his soul shone out like a phoenix's egg from its bed of coals and embers. Enthralled, Lulu found her free hand creeping up to brush against the side of his cheek and jaw. Auron mirrored the gesture, reaching up to cradle her face delicately between outspread fingers. Both were more accustomed to using their hands as devastating weapons. Now the sorceress thrilled at the magic of his heated skin rolling beneath her slick fingers, and the warrior smiled ferally when the barest caress of his fingers and her braids tickling against the nape of her neck elicited a musical moan. Yojimbo was utterly forgotten. They basked in the gleam of each other's eyes like circling birds of prey balanced effortlessly on rising currents of warm air.

"Very lovely," Yojimbo broke in suddenly, his voice floating down from directly overhead. "But it's past time to peel that pretty whore of yours out of her petticoats, don't you think?"

Lulu cringed. She was doubly shocked to witness Auron's composure cracking for an unguarded moment. The bliss in his face blazed into sudden fury like a Sin-storm blowing off the sea, transmuting the sunwashed beaches of Besaid into a whirlwind of sand and churning gray waves. The warrior's arm behind her back came up to encircle her bare shoulders in a living shield. Startled and touched to see Auron so riled on her behalf, Lulu pressed a soft kiss against his cheek. "I'll be all right." Ignoring the Fayth's papery chuckle, she mouthed, I trust you.