FicWad

C-South High School, Zanarkand

The only place Raine could be alone to cry was in the park, on the swings.
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[/ Head down, shoes elevated from the trench of mud below the swing, Raine didn't get far, the tears only just welling up in her eyes when Auron's boots appeared in her range of vision.
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[/ She swallowed and hastily cast away the tears. "I thought I gave you the slip."
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[/ "You underestimate me."
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[/ Raine squinted into the setting sun at him. He was all sunglasses, collar and hair whipping in the wind. There was a dead leaf in his hair from whatever cluster of trees he had come out of. "I should have known you'd find me."
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[/ "Do you want to talk about it?"
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[/ Forcing a weak smile, she said, "Oh, Auron, it's just girl stuff. I wouldn't want to bore you."
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[/ "Hmph."
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[/ He studied the swing next to her, tested its engineering with a firm tug on the chain and he seemed out of place as he carefully sat, figuring out its movement. Raine tried to picture him as a child on the swings and wondered if they were the same age, if they would ever be friends. It was hard to say. She didn't see him as the playground type.
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[/ "Don't you have practice?" he asked, his gaze swinging to the field.
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[/ The girls on her squad were rehearsing some advanced cradle catches and even at this distance Raine could hear Lindsey Seawell shouting her shrill criticisms.
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[/ "I don't feel well." Physically, she was fine, but today had been especially draining. She found out from one of the other girls on the squad Jory had been cheating on her with Lindsey Seawell. It wasn't an act of mercy; it was said with plenty of nasty intent. Raine spent the rest of the day between classes, hunting Jory down for the truth and by the time she pinned him for answers, he'd had time to make up a cover story about how they had just been talking.
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[/ "You look pale," Auron agreed, furrowing his eyebrows in concern.
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[/ "Gee, thanks," she said, glancing self-consciously over her shoulder at a group of girls walking by with book bags. Today had been a ponytail day and her uniform was a little wrinkled because she didn't have time to iron it this morning. Now, apparently she wasn't getting enough sun. Great.
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[/ "Besides…." She looked furtively back to the field. "I think I'm going to quit."
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[/ His glasses were trained on her in an instant. "Why?"
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[/ She shrugged. "It's stupid."
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[/ "It teaches you skills."
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[/ She rolled her eyes at him. "What skills? Basket tosses? Thigh stands? How to be at the bottom of a double hitch pyramid?"
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[/ "You shouldn't give up so easily."
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[/She didn't say anything, but she knew he was right. If she quit now, Lindsey and the girls would know she'd been beaten.
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[/ "These people…they only focus on the superficial. Hair, make-up, clothes…" Raine flicked her eyes to Auron. "Scars."
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[/ She saw his eye move obliquely to hers.
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[/ "For them, looking at a person's true character is beyond their depth. It's a lot of work to be popular, you know. Well, for me it is. It came easy to Tidus. Everybody liked him and he didn't have to try to be someone he wasn't."
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[/ "Ignorance is bliss," Auron said.
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[/ "Yeah, maybe. I always thought we were so different, Tidus and me. Sometimes, I would think Tidus was one of them. Superficial. Like we were on separate teams. He was an Abe, I was a Duggle."
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[/ "Tidus did say the Duggles play dirty."
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[/ Raine thought he might be alluding to a previous conversation, but he was turned away, staring across the playground. "Auron, I think I would like for us to be friends."
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[/ "We are friends."
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[/ "No, friends like you and Tidus were friends."
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[/ "I thought you liked our current arrangement."
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[/ Raine hesitated. That was when she cared about what her schoolmates thought if they saw her walking home with Auron. "Well, I'd like to discuss a new arrangement. I'm almost 18. I can pick my own friends."
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[/ "Hm. Friends."
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[/ She glanced up tentatively. "You want to be friends, don't you?"
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[/ "If you wish."
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[/ "If I wish?"
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[/ Auron bristled as he situated in his swing to look at her.
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[/ "Don't do me any favors," she barked. "I have plenty of pretend friends."
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[/ "I'm unclear." Auron wrinkled his forehead. "What is it you want?"
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[/ "Forget it," she muttered, crossing her arms. "It was a stupid idea."
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[/ "Being friends is a stupid idea?" There was a catch of humor in his tone.
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[/ "I didn't mean it like that." Raine sighed, irritated. "The real question is: what do you want? Most people want to be my friend because of my famous father and because my brother was popular, so don't pretend we're friends because my brother asked you to. If you must stalk me, stalk me, but be my friend because you want to."
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[/ "Hmph," Auron said, brooding.
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[/ "What?"
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[/ "No one's asked me what I want before."
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[/ "I don't think anyone's ever asked me, either." As Raine gazed up at him, a breeze blew her blonde locks into her face and she restrained them behind her ear. "But if we're going to be friends, I need you to show me more of your cards."
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[/ "My cards?"
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[/ "You know…the ones you don't show until it's your turn?"
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[/ He nodded. "Which card?"
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[/ Raine already knew which card she wanted to see. She'd been kept up many nights wondering how Auron met her father if he was from another world. "How do you know my father?"
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[/ Straightening his posture, Auron did not appear ready to answer. "We…worked together."
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[/ "Bullshit."
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[/ Auron swung his head in her direction and he looked like he might scold her for swearing.
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[/ "My father never worked a day in his life, except for Blitzball. And you don't look like a very good swimmer."
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[/ Those reflective sunglasses were pasted to her.
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[/ "Auron? Tell me."
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[/ He shook his head. "Not now. You've had a long day."
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[/ "Don't give me that. What aren't you telling me?"
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[/ Grunting reluctantly, he said, "Your father and your brother…they didn't die the way you think they did."
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[/ "How did they die?"
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[/ "Sin."
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[/ "Oh, I know that," Raine said. "Tidus died from a Sin attack on the Zanarkand Stadium. And my dad died at sea during Blitzball practice. I suppose Sin could have—"
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[/Auron waved his gauntlet to silence her. "They died in my world fighting Sin. During a pilgrimage."
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[/ Raine blinked. "Oh."
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[/ "My first pilgrimage was with your father and a Summoner named Braska."
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[/ "And your second was with my brother?"
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[/ "Hm," he confirmed.
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[/ "Who was the Summoner on your second Pilgrimage?"
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[/ "A girl named Yuna."
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[/ A stab of jealousy made Raine frown. "Who's Yuna?" she asked, with an edge of accusation.
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[/ "Braska's daughter."
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[/ "Oh," she said and felt stupid. "So she's my age?"
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[/ "Closer to Tidus. They were in love."
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[/ Raine gaped. "My brother fell in love with a Summoner?"
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[/ "Hm." He had turned to her slightly, gave her answers readily, almost anxiously. He…liked talking about his pilgrimages, when he got started. Once he forgot about the fatalities.
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[/ "So was it was just you and Tidus with Yuna?"
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[/ "There were others. Yuna was fortunate to trust so many."
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[/ "Who were they?"
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[/ "People from her village. Her cousin, an Al Behd. A Ronso, who raised her."
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[/ "You have Ronsos in your world?"
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[/ "Hm." He nodded.
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[/ "I've never seen one, just pictures. They seem scary."
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[/ "Maybe on the outside. Kimahri was gentle, utterly loyal."
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[/ "I suppose. Sometimes you seem scary, but you're not so bad." She launched herself sideways on the swing to bump him and he stomped a foot down to brace himself. He was chuckling.
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[/ Raine wondered if Auron had ever fallen in love, but she knew asking him directly would make him shut down. However, he never denied her information when she asked about his pilgrimages….
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[/ "So…" she began carefully, like approaching a wild animal. "Women can be Guardians?"
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[/ "Of course."
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[/ "Even to men Summoners?"
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[/ He gave an even shrug. "If they can do the job."
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[/ "So there were women in your Pilgrimage?"
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[/ "Yes."
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[/ "Were they my age?"
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[/ Auron's brow wrinkled thoughtfully. "Rikku is your age—"
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[/ "Rikku?"
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[/ "Yuna's cousin."
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[/ Somehow, Raine felt less envious knowing that.
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[/ Auron didn't have to be prompted to continue. "And Lulu is a little older. Early twenties."
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[/ "So as far as Guardians go, you're..."
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[/ His head slanted to her, but his collar and glasses hid any expression.
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[/ "Experienced," she finished with a quirk of her lips.
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[/ "You could say that," he said and grunted a laugh.
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[/ Raine saw her chance and moved to corner him. "Was Lulu pretty?"
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[/ Sensing a trap, Auron regarded her with a sagacious stare of his sunglasses and Raine felt vulnerable under his look, despite it was her trick to set. "She was beautiful," he said, very matter of fact.
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[/ The jealousy was stabbing as she dropped her eyes to study the ground. Her ploy had backfired. She was trying not to spook him into silence with her questions, but with one sentence he was able to shut her down. The heat of fresh tears threatened to emerge, so she kept her head down and clenched them back, leaning her temple against the chain of the swing.
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[/ Auron sighed, looked away, and softened his tone. "But Lulu was a little…dark for me."
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[/ "It's not that." Raine shook her head at his explanation. "Sorry, I'm just having a bad day. Let's change the subject."
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[/ "Let's," Auron agreed.
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[/ "Did you get your scar on a Pilgrimage?"
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[/ In any other case, Raine would not have asked about his scar, fearing he would become mute, but it seemed an easy query to ask now and he responded without hesitation.
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[/ "Right after my first Pilgrimage."
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[/ "What happened?"
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[/ "Stupid mistake."
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[/ She sniffed, lifted her chin to face him. "Aren't most mistakes stupid?"
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[/ "Not if you learn from them."
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[/ "What did you learn from your mistake?"
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[/ "That I'm not immune to being stupid." His eye crinkled and she knew he was smiling.
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[/ Raine leaned back in the swing, holding onto the chains so she could look at the orange sky. "It's not fair, you know."
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[/ "What isn't?"
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[/ "You knew Tidus and my father differently than I did. You knew them at their best."
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[/ "Raine—"
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[/ "It's true, though, isn't it? Jecht stopped drinking for some Summoner he'd known for a couple months?"
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[/ "Braska and I always knew he would start again when the Pilgrimage ended."
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[/ "But you still knew him sober, didn't you?"
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[/ "Yes."
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[/ "And Tidus died fighting alongside the woman he loved. He must have become so brave."
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[/ Auron only cleared his throat, finding something across the park very interesting. He was wiping his nose with the back of his gloved finger, casually enough, but Raine was hit with the sudden realization Auron missed Tidus. Sometimes she forgot exactly how much time they spent together when Tidus was young.
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[/ Focusing her attention back on the leaf caught in his hair, Raine reached over to the side of his head. "Come here, this is bugging me."
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[/ Auron ducked sideways, dodging her warily.
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[/ She revealed her empty hand to him, a pacifying gesture. "There's just something in your hair."
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[/ Slowly, he leaned hesitantly to her hand. Combing her fingers through his hair, she caught the leaf and sifted it out. His hair gleamed in the sun like it was wet, but it was soft, and it was darker and thicker in the back, compared to his front hairline which was loosely shaped like a lowercase "m," the sides skunk-streaked with silver. Although the leaf was gone, he let her gently rake her fingers through it a little longer and she felt like she was petting the wild animal she had caught. She tried not to make any sudden movements or say anything, although she wanted to ask if he conditioned on account of how silky his hair was.
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[/ "Just a leaf," Raine said, reaching further down, hearing the crackle of more dead leaves, collecting in his collar like a funnel. She clicked her tongue. "No more hiding in the woods for you, okay? If anyone asks what you're doing, you tell them you're waiting for me."
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[/ Her fingers nudged against something hard at his neckline, wrapped tightly in cord, and as her fingers tried to coil around it, she found it was tucked into his shirt.
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[/ "What is this?" she asked, knowing he might draw away.
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[/ And he did, roughly, nearly taking her fingers with him, as though just realizing what she was doing. He reached into his back collar to adjust whatever was there and something edged in on the outskirts of Raine's memory, something about what was there, that she had seen it before, handled it, even.
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[/ "Auron, do you have a tail?"
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[/ "You know I do."
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[/ She looked away, the blurry recollection coming into careful focus. She smiled. "You used to let me braid it, didn't you?"
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[/ "It kept you quiet," he grumbled.
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[/ "I remember I used to tie it off with a pink ribbon that had blue polka dots. Do you still have it?"
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[/ "It…got lost."
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[/ With an unconcerned shrug, she said, "I suppose it's been a while."
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[/ She thought about asking if he would let her braid it again, but she could just about imagine his answer, although it wouldn't be the first time she asked something knowing the answer would be a very stern "No." The more humiliating the request, the harsher the no.
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[/ "Practice is over," she said, finding the field empty. "My aunt will be expecting me home soon and I'm bringing a friend home for dinner."
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[/ "Would you like me to walk you home?"
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[/ "You better," she grinned. "Dinner's at 6."
*]
[*Room 4, Rin's Travel Agency, Macalania

Sin…Tidus…the Final Aeon….

Thinking of them gave Raine a stomachache.

Lying on the coverlet, belly down, her feet lazily kicking the pillows, Raine paged listlessly through the Summoning book, her attention briefly harnessed by an occasional picture, until Auron brought out the whetstone block. She liked watching him sharpen his sword. Working with his hands, he seemed so medieval.

Rolling on her side, Raine propped her head up on her hand to watch, doubling suddenly from a sharp cramp in her gut. By the time she winced and dug her fingers into her side to massage it away, it had already elusively faded, but not before Auron noticed. Sliding his katana half way from its sheath, he paused and looked at her.

"You okay?"

"Just a belly ache." There had to be a way to make it go away for a while. "Does Rin have a liquor license?"

"A what?"

"Sorry. I forget we're in the middle of Rural, Nowhere."

"Are you thirsty?"

"I wouldn't mind a beer. Or seven." However many it took to dull the ache.

Wiping the oil off his blade with a dry cloth, Auron suspiciously peered over his glasses. "You can't handle that much."

"Precisely. What the hell, right? You only live once."

"Usually," he agreed blandly. "But it's not a good idea."

She evinced mild offense. "I'd be good drunk, not like my father."

"As amusing as it may be, I need you focused."

"I'm focused," she yawned, stretching out on her back. Her shoulders were still tight from wielding that horrible Enchanted Rod.

Auron snorted.

"What? I've never been drunk before. I think I'd like to know what it's like, that's all."

Resting her cheek on the coverlet, she looked over at Auron for a response, but his dark glasses were trained on her, low, in the direction of her hips. She peeked down at herself self-consciously and tugged her thick, shapeless pajama top back down over her exposed belly button. Apparently this was the only sleeping attire Auron favored to see her in and she wondered it if had something to do with that night he returned from Spira. She remembered the faint smell of ozone in Auron's red cloak from his portal voyage and how scratchy his hands felt against her body and ever since she always wondered where he might have touched her next if she hadn't stopped him. Considering her new flannel pajamas, she suspected Auron also wondered.

Immediately, Auron resumed cleaning his blade, and Raine tried to ignore the arduous, writhing look flitting momentarily across his face as he flipped over the sword and wiped the other side. "Your father used alcohol as a means of escape," he said. "I fear your intensions aren't far off."

"You'd deny me a dying wish? You give everyone else their dying wishes."

Auron looked up and considered her for a long moment, before he glanced diagonally to the dresser.

She sat up with interest, her eyes fixing on his stoneware jug. Face creeping with a crafty grin, Raine peered deviously at him out of the corner of her eye. "Have you been holding out on me, Auron?"

He stopped mid-wipe. "Raine…" he warned.

Raine felt a charge course through her as they stared at each other, frozen, blue eyes to reflective sunglasses. Something about the way his eyebrow arched made her think he was daring her and the idea of disobeying him was exciting. After a long, still moment, they sprang into action at the same time: she scurried out of bed, Auron's sword clanged to the table.

Hooking the tiny pressed handle with a curled finger, Raine snagged the jug and narrowly escaped his outstretched arm as she circled the table. Auron tried to cut her off on her way to the bed, but she skimmed through his fingers with a dodgy move worthy of the Blitzball pool and managed to put the bed in between them. Surprised with its heaviness, she pinned the jug under her arm, her fingers posed around the cork as she examined Auron's face to see how angry he was. Not angry enough, by her calculation. He had stopped stoic by the bedside table and his arms were folded.

"Don't," he said, but it was dry, without persuasion.

Twisting the plug, Raine loosened it slowly.

Coolly, he started around the bed for her, but she jumped on, stampeded the pillows, crumpling the quilt and the sheets underneath. With an exasperated sigh, Auron stopped at the foot of the bed, palms up in a brief beseeching gesture. Stance wide, Raine evaluated where he would go, ready to jump depending on which way he went. Heat pleasantly dropped between her legs when she considered letting him catch her, the mental image of him wrestling the jug from her was especially pleasing. Of course, he would never do that. Auron didn't play.

Keeping a close eye on Auron for unexpected movements, Raine knelt on the coverlet, her fingers working at the squeaking cork until it suddenly popped off. Sniffing the jug's opening, Raine smelled nothing, but she could hear the resonant jostle of liquid inside. Unintimidated by Auron's looks of disapproval, she tossed back her head and poured the drink into her mouth. She tried not to backwash, but the container was so awkward and full it was hard not to and she ended up taking more than she could handle. Some of it poured over the side of her mouth, splashed on the front of her flannel pajamas. Lowering the jug, she held the liquid in her mouth as she tried to determine what it was. It was unsatisfyingly smooth. Swallowing, she balanced the jug on her thigh and wiped her mouth with her other hand, glaring at Auron.

"You creep. It's water," she muttered.

He faintly smiled. "Happy now?"

"I can't get drunk on water."

"Precisely," he mocked in monotone.

"Then why didn't you want me to drink it?"

"It's holy."

"Uh," she grimaced, replaced the cork with a pound of her fist and set the jug on the bedside table. Wiping the water off the front of her pajamas, she asked, "It's not going to boil my insides, is it?"

"It shouldn't," he chuckled and returned to the table to resume his chore.

Considering how weak her stomach was today, getting drunk was probably the last thing she should be doing. Auron probably wouldn't be as forgiving if she puked on him a second time. Flopping face down on the bed, Raine exhaled a weary sigh. "Can you teach me to do that?"

Auron peered up from his sword, his brow creased doubtfully. "Really? I've asked you before if you wanted to learn."

"I'm bored," she said with a shrug. And it hurts to think.

"Clearly it's a new low of boredom."

He continued to wipe the sword, saying nothing more, and Raine rested her cheek on her folded arms, resigned to just watch. How many more nights until she'd be watching him sharpen his sword before the final battle? This thought was promptly followed by a distant twinge in the center of her hollow gut.

When he had removed all the oil from his blade, he ceremoniously uncovered the stones from their protective velvet cloths and inserted the coarsest one into the square depression on the wooden sharpening box, which was stained from minor water damage. He had acquired a sharpening kit much like this one in Zanarkand and watching him use it was a common occurrence in the houseboat. In fact, she had fuzzy memories of him teaching Tidus how to sharpen a sword when they were young.

"Will you fetch me a glass of water?" Auron asked without looking up.

Scrambling off the bed, she felt a little like a girl again, anxious to help. Grabbing a clean glass from the dish cart by the door, Raine went into the bathroom and ran the tap, filling the glass about three-fourths full. A memory vapor emerged in her mind's eye: Raine was around 12, filling a plastic cup back at her childhood home, in the deep, rusty sink in the utility room by the back door. Auron was with Tidus in the backyard, stressing the importance of sword safety as he set up the sharpening stones on the patio table by the grill. Will you fetch me a glass of water? Auron had asked her and Raine jumped up to get it, excited to be included in their activities for once.

Auron was inspecting the edge of the blade for small notches and didn't say anything when Raine came back with the water. She set it by the box and sat at the corner of the bed and crossed her legs, waiting to be entertained. When he was satisfied with the condition of his sword, he aimed his glasses at her from over the top of his collar.

"Well?"

Raine grinned and leaped up, standing by with anticipation while he poured a little water on the grey stone.

"Start hilt side and touch it to the stone at an angle," Auron said, demonstrating for her with strong, capable hands, easily sliding the obsidian blade across the stone. The sword was almost as wide as his fingers were long and the sword's length rivaled the diameter of the table from hilt to sword tip. Holding the sword in place by the handle, Auron sidestepped away to give her room to take over. "Ready to try?"

Realizing she hadn't touched his sword since that first day at the houseboat, when she'd spent all morning drilling brackets to the wall in the room she was saving for him, Raine approached tentatively, placing her hands on the smooth blade the way he had, her fingers fringing carefully to the sharp edge. Her hands were hardly large enough and her thumbs merely hooked around the dull side for stability. Auron let go of the hilt slowly to make sure she had control of it and Raine had forgotten how heavy it was. It had to be twenty times heavier than the Enchanted Rod and she could feel its weight in her arms and shoulders.

"Slide it diagonally," Auron said, keeping his voice low and even, although the tension in his body told Raine he didn't quite trust her with it yet.

Raine's attempt was jerky and rough, not at all the way Auron glided it naturally across the stone, and she was abruptly halted by a high screech, like she was sharpening his sword on a chalkboard. The sound made her violently shiver and Auron prickled. This was not the constant metallic rasp that lulled her to sleep those nights at the houseboat.

She grimaced, partly in apology, partly from the awful noise. "Sorry."

Humbled by the difficulty of the task, Raine searched for the right angle, but Auron stopped her and examined more closely the blade, his thumbnail scratching a noticeable nick, the result of Raine's inexperience.

"I would stick to Summoning if I were you," Auron murmured.

Raine's face reddened, her belly sinking miserably. "That bad?"

"Indubitably." The skin around Auron's eyes wrinkled as he targeted her with his sunglasses.

She smirked. "Did you just make a joke? At my expense?"

A rumble of muffled laughter bubbled over the barricade of his collar.

She stepped back, offering the sword back to its owner. "Maybe you should do this."

Auron caught her by the small of her back and hauled her back towards the table. "You can do it."

Raine repositioned the sword, but was immobilized with thrown confidence.

"Here." Auron shuffled up behind her, his biceps trapping her as his hands came up alongside hers, adjusting the sword's angle. His chest pressed against her shoulder blades and Raine held her breath as she tried again, Auron guiding. Her hands trembled as the blade slid skillfully across the stone and when Auron clasped his hands over hers to still them, his corresponding chuckle sounded very close to her ear.

"See this sludge?" he asked softly, stopping to indicate the shavings of steel on the stone. His voice vibrated on her spine and when his mouth moved, his beard scraped the delicate skin on her temple.

She nodded numbly, too distracted by the toughness of his callouses on the back of her knuckles to be properly instructed. Auron rinsed the sludge away with another trickle of water, ran his palm over the stone, and then flicked the water off his fingers before he placed his hand back over hers. She forced herself to pay attention, to actively contribute, lest he stop the lesson for her lack of concentration.

A few minutes later, he lowered the blade down a few inches to work on another section of the sword, shifting, his hip bumping her and Raine felt the start of an erection brush against her backside. Stiffening, she sharply inhaled, something fleeting quivered in place of the belly-ache void. She attributed his reaction to the anticipation of battle, a likely response from readying his blade, but the quick, productive sword strokes had already turned torpid, the wind of his ragged breath deafening in her ear.

When the timing was right, Raine nudged backwards, feeling an unmistakable jab of rigidity, and he seemed unable to help himself when he flexed his groin forward, pinching her hips against the edge of the table. Her heart immediately throbbed, her skin scorching under her arms and between her legs. A cold sheet of sweat came out of every pore.

"I know what you're doing," he muttered. "I can't say I approve of this method of escapism, either."

"Something approves," she said and arched her rear against his erection.

Auron groaned. "It irritates me when you provoke me for a reaction."

"You still owe me a dying wish," Raine whispered. The sword in front of her went still, but neither of them let go, and her head tilted sideways as one of the cold buckles of his collar dug into her earlobe.

"I'm not a genie," he grumbled.

"You don't have to be for my wish." Raine sagged against him. "Besides, it's my wedding night."

"Yes, I suppose it is," he said and his icy tone startled Raine. Her shoulders went cold as he backed away and she was briskly cast aside as he attended to his sword, carefully laying it down on the table. "You should go to bed."

The stab of rejection was painful for Raine as Auron steered her around to the bed by her shoulders. He lifted the coverlet and Raine crawled underneath, dejected, lying like a board on her back as he covered her. Aside from today, Auron hadn't tucked her into bed since she was 7 years old; on those nights her mother worked late and couldn't get a sitter. She thought he might kiss her on the forehead, but he didn't even offer that, and he kept his sunglasses averted as he turned off the lamp next to her.

Roaming the room, Auron flicked off the rest of the lights, except for the dim one on the dresser—as though she still needed a nightlight to sleep with—and began to put away his sharpening kit, slowly, methodically as he usually did, making sure all the different grit stones were wrapped in their proper sleeves. Eventually, Raine knew he would settle into the arm chair he'd positioned across from the bed to watch her sleep, like the dutiful Guardian he was, like he always had been. And she would have to sleep this way, silently suffering with sexual strain, knowing he was watching her, knowing he would be thinking about the last thing she said to him tonight. It's my wedding night…

With heavy sadness, Raine turned on her side, hugging herself, trying to squeeze the hollow out of her, but the ache only flared. Covertly, she twisted her ring close to her face, letting the soft light from the dresser bounce off the pear-shaped diamond. She felt like throwing the quilt over her head and bawling, but she resorted to anger instead, plotting a maddening silent treatment that would last no less than two days, more if she was still cross by the end of it. All these years, she'd fought to change their dynamic, but no matter how much she tried, Auron would always think of her as that 4-year old who couldn't pronounce her R's. Perhaps he was right. Obviously, her first instincts to flip the blankets over her and cry lacked maturity.

Hearing the casual click of Auron's collar snaps, Raine peered over the hill of covers at her shoulder. Collar loose, Auron was lifting his leather harness over his head, showing her again his thick, dark chest hair. He braced the armor up in the chair before facing her. He put a knee up and the mattress sunk as he crawled onto the bed. Raine started, chest thrumming crazily, and she brought her knees in to give him room.

Expression flat, Auron kneeled forward in the space between her raised knees and Raine sat up to meet him. She opened her mouth and Auron's steady lips sealed against hers, guarded, his stubble cutting into her chin and upper lip. During their steely kiss, a slideshow of old fantasies scrolled in her mind from when she was 17, dreaming of Auron undressing her slowly, coating her naked parts in kisses, leisurely bringing her to a gentle climax. She speculated how he would compare.

Gathering all the hair he could manage in his fist, he squeezed it in a clump at the back of her head and when he had enough of her mouth, he yanked her hair, bending her head straight back. He gazed down impassively, assessing her with unsettling disconnection, the lenses of his sunglasses little round mirrors over his eyes to hide what he was thinking, and they didn't leave her face as he walked closer to her on his knees. Raine felt self-conscious to be panting so heavily so soon and she swallowed, forcing quick, shallow breathes through her nose.

He kissed her again, this time urgent, demanding, his beard severe on her face, his tongue filling her mouth. His moan of relief vibrated on her lips and Raine was equally pleased their kiss was not repulsive, like kissing a family member, although Raine found herself elated by an elusive thread of delicious wrongness. Maybe it was their gaping age difference or the act of sullying the intended pure nature between Summoner and Guardian, or maybe it was the surfacing of Raine's unresolved father issues. Whatever it was, it was wickedly intensified as Auron's hand made a scooping motion between her legs, assertively cupping her humid sex, massaging her through the flannel with a sure thumb. She gasped into his mouth. A moment later, Auron's own enchanted rod pressed against her belly and he swung an arm around her back to brace her as he rubbed it against her ribs, fervently seeking gratification, so unseemly out of character. Letting naughtiness take over, she clutched onto his buttocks, urging him to grind against her, and he did, clenching under her touch, their tongues tangling.

After enduring Auron's assault on her ribs, Raine wanted to see it and she rifled for the drawstrings of his breeches, but before she could untie them, Auron scooted back. Raine feared the return of his lucidity, but he immediately began working at the elastic of her pajama bottoms. She propped herself on her hands, bucking her hips off the bed to help his effort as he jerked them over her hips and the sudden movement of it threw her back against the pillows. Off came her new, pretty white underwear with hardly a second look, discarded onto the floor. Auron grabbed under her knees, towing her roughly across the bed, her head skimming off the pillows. Deliberately, his face turned down to examine her fair-colored pubic hair. There was nothing in his expression to show his approval, or disapproval, except for a flex of his jaw muscle, which could have meant either. Growing wetter with just the caress of his eye, Raine filled her fists with bedding.

His sunglasses pointed to her breasts next, fingertips grazing along her hips to the lowest buttons on her flannel shirt, undoing them slowly, leaning on one hand, hovering over her to reach the top ones, and shifting the lapels obliquely to expose her. Raine found herself frozen, holding her breath, her breasts felt huge under his scrutiny. His scratchy hand came up to caress one, his thumb circling the nipple, snaring it in a firm pinch and Raine let out a hasty sigh. His face dipped to the other breast, his tongue still cool from the iced tea, like he'd been sucking on the ice cubes, and her nipple wrinkled frigidly, his whiskers chafing the sensitive skin. She felt the pressure of him sucking, her breast weightless, and a soft bubble of her own warm liquid popped between her legs, squirting on her inner thighs. She squirmed from the maddening itch. Releasing her with a wet smack, Auron's eye burned over the top of his sunglasses.

"You are sure?" he husked, his voice raspier than normal.

Swallowing, a strangled moan came out of her mouth. "Yes," she croaked. So far, he was living up to her late night fantasies.

Never taking the aim of his glasses off her, he sat back on his ankles, and Raine noticed for the first time his dark braid had slid forward, the distressed pink ribbon with blue dots catching in the hair on his stomach, until he brushed it back over his shoulder. Testing her gently with a long, thin finger, Auron slid knuckle deep inside her, effortlessly, and Raine thought she saw the ghost of a smug smile on his lips before he gravely wrinkled his brow, taking her approaching climax very seriously. For that, she forgave his cold fingers. He dragged his thumb gradually between her pubic lips, collecting her moisture, languidly circling her slippery clitoris. She tightened, the smolder between her legs building, her back arching off the mattress.

If Auron felt any desire for her at all, he was taking great strides to hide it from her. His lips were compressed; his only motivation sparked from a cruel mixture of obligation and duty. He was rougher than Jory, but still more present and aware of her body than Jory ever was. Raine absorbed Auron's every twitch, every constriction of his face, wriggling her hips to the rhythm of his skilled fingers and she absently wondered where he managed to gain his experience after two decades of minding her family. For many years, she had been curious how he made love and there was a long time after he mentioned he was a monk she thought he was celibate, but the swift, efficient way he was bringing her to orgasm was anything but beginner's luck.

Auron shoved her knees apart and dropped his mouth between her thighs. Raine's head jolted off the coverlet, but she wasn't quick enough to catch him.

"You don't have to—Auron, you don't—" she said between breaths.

Jory had been squeamish about putting his mouth there and she had become self-conscious about the smell and taste and wasn't in the habit of grooming her private area. She reached down between her thighs to pat his forelock, but his tongue was already lapping in her folds. She writhed involuntarily as he licked the apex of her vagina.

"Auron," she mewled.

He growled something unintelligible in response and shivers split up her spine. Gripping the back of her legs, Auron eased her into a folded position, the start of a reverse cartwheel.

Her knees almost touching her breasts, she felt the virtual suffocation of being bent in half. Auron's tongue probed once into the channel of her vagina, but it was not his true destination as he continued south, poking boldly into her tight crater. Gasping with difficulty, Raine's eyes smashed shut. His breath was chilly between her buttocks, and it made the ring of muscle there reflexively contract. No one had ever touched her there, not a mouth and certainly not a tongue. Auron penetrated further, stretching her sphincter, eliciting from her a shameless groan that shocked her. The relief when he removed his tongue was uniquely erogenous, but he gave her little time to recover as he dove into her public lips, now more sensitive than ever. Bobbing back and forth, anus to clitoris, he didn't let her rest and she began building, knees shaking uncontrollably, the pleasure not like anything she felt before.

"Turn over," he grated.

There was no time to consider. Auron twisted her legs until she was face down on the bedspread. He grabbed her hips, yanking her up on her knees, her rear sticking lewdly in the air for him to see, but he couldn't have spent too much time studying her as he groped her butt cheeks, using his thumbs to spread them apart. If it was possible, she felt more naked. His tongue was in her again, his face shoving into her backside and one of his large hands slipped between her slick thighs, running his finger through her pubic pleats. Lasciviously moaning into the coverlet, Raine's eyes shut again, grasping the side of the mattress with her fist. She couldn't keep still, her rump bobbing wildly against his face.

She couldn't believe what he was doing to her, the places he was touching, considering this morning, how awkwardly he unzipped her dress. Now he was brazenly exploring her most secret places.

A flurry of hurried kisses on her rear-end signaled a transition was coming and she could feel him changing positions. She tensed from the uncertainty. She heard the wispy shift of his trousers and then the fleshy slap of his erection as it spanked against her drenched inner thigh. Her knuckles went white clutching at the sheets, the vacancy in Raine's stomach replaced with a surge of panic as she took stock of the places he might impale her. One of those places was virginal and nowhere near ready for anything bigger than his tongue, a fact she was 100% certain of when he nudged the head of his cock between her buttocks, sliding it obscenely up and down her crack. She couldn't tell if he was searching or teasing, but he felt strangely cold. Raine whined tremulously through her nose, a faint pleading sound. After all this time protecting her, he would be cautious not to hurt her, wouldn't he?

After so many years envisioning Auron inside her instead of Jory, Raine felt gratified when Auron pushed into her tunnel with a fierce thrust. But it was not as she imagined. Something felt unquestionably wrong and not in the deviously stimulating way. There was biting discomfort, freezing her deep inside, a stubborn popsicle that refused to melt. With a delayed yelp, her pace careened off course until she found her place again. Auron didn't seem to notice as he pulled back slightly and gave another sharp forward plunge, groaning behind her. Hearing his arousal, Raine forgot how frigid his organ was and lifted up on her hands so she could more easily participate, slamming backwards against his hips, delighted with the sound of Auron's deep moans behind her.

Throwing an arm around her, Auron prodded his finger into her most sensitive spot, quick, purposeful, manipulating her in loops of exquisite pleasure. His coarse chest hair tickled her back as her knees began to spread across the beaded quilt, amphibiously bending from the crush of Auron's weight on her and the strain of her weakened muscles. She experimented with the balance of bucking against his hand and keeping her rear high enough to avoid his sliding out, until her head flew back in a silent scream, waves of warm relief spilling to every nerve ending.

Auron wasted no time, pumping in frenzy to finish, keeping his finger pad on her button, simultaneously drawing from her every last shuddering spasm. "Humph!" he grunted when he peaked, like he was throwing something of great weight, extinguishing her with a blast of cold that lingered queerly as if she'd swallowed a whole cube of ice and it was somehow melting in her uterus.

Elbow buckling, Auron slumped on the bed next to her, his body cool and dry, while hers was wet, sticky and sweaty. They both fought to catch their breath. He rolled her on her side so he could spoon her but she was only numbly aware of this, the diversion of their intercourse short-lived. Crumpling into a fetal position, Raine snatched closed the flannel shirt, hugging herself, the black vortex inside her was desolate and barren and it seeped into the place of her fading ecstasy, threatening to swallow her whole, as it would likely do when it was time for her to die.