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Once upon a time, this never happened
You have to write your own happy ending
FFX: Belief and Other Foolish Things 
6th-May-2007 03:38 pm
Title: Belief and Other Foolish Things
Word Count: 468
Rating: G
Characters: Auron, Jecht, Braska, Yuna mentioned
Notes: Written for pyre_flies. I think I used up most of my FFX mojo on ff_exchange. *dies*

Auron didn't believe a word of Jecht's story - something that seemed to be for the best. The man lied with every breath, his stories always just beyond the edge that would make them believable.

That he had been a bliztball player was evident, even to him - Jecht had entertained Yuna for a day by taking her down to a beach near Bevelle. Yuna had played in the sand; Jecht had played with a bliztball. The Jecht Shot - ignoring the long, utterly ridiculous name Jecht had given it made him squawk with indignation, which might have been something to do with Auron's decision to ignore it completely - had driven Bevelle's team insane, more so when he refused to teach them how to do it. That he had been given the level of adoration that was usually reserved for entire teams was beyond belief.

That Jecht was from Zanarkand - that was the story he wouldn't even listen to. Especially when it seemed Jecht didn't even know what was waiting for them, what would happen to Braska when they got there.

Braska trusted him though.

(Surely you don't believe him, my lord?

Braska smiles, pouring Auron another glass of wine.

He has no idea what a summoner is. He doesn't know what Sin is. He has no idea who or what Yevon is. I think that there's some truth in what he says.

The scepticism in Auron's look speaks volumes, and Braska touches his arm lightly. Surely if he was going to lie, he would tell one that was believable?

Auron shakes his head, grip on the glass a little too tight for comfort.

I don't trust him.

You don't have to.)

Auron didn't believe Jecht, and nor did he trust him, certainly not with Braska's safety.

He trusted Braska, and that was the only reason he tolerated Jecht's presence.


Jecht stared around him with his jaw hanging somewhere around his collarbone, eyes wide. It was the expression of disbelief he recognised from Bevelle - from warrior-monks who had been brought up inside the (relative) safety of Bevelle's walls, and who had never seen the true destruction Sin could bring. That instead of crushing a wall - a few buildings - a few squads of men - Sin could wipe entire towns off the face of the earth. Stories from the steady stream of refugees flowing into the city were never enough to prepare anyone. Even so, Auron had never seen anyone Jecht's age who wasn't at least expecting something like this.

Warring with the disbelief was the lost, world-inverted look that the children scrambling over the wreckage towards them were wearing. The expression of one who didn't even know this level of destruction was possible.

was when Auron began to believe Jecht's story.
7th-May-2007 03:37 pm (UTC)
I like the conciseness of this --you give us just enough to tell the story and it reaches a zenith o' heartbreak in the second part. Comparing to Jecht to a child is very apt; civility can be some sort of domestication and the populace of dream!Zanarkand are rather stunted in their placid, easy little world.

A nitckpick: a few squads of mean I think you mean a few squads of men?

10th-May-2007 02:57 pm (UTC)
Thank you! I'm glad you liked it. :D (Stunted... THAT is a good word for them... *ponders*)

I did! *corrects it* Thanks for pointing it out. :)
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