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Remixed	By : krissifer Category: Final Fantasy X > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 658 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Remixed

Tnaysc uv Macalania [Drnii]
Summary: Flashback: Macalania, three weeks past. Baralai recounts what sent Gippal into his current "state", and Gippal begins to form a theory.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Don't sue.

Archiving: Ask. I don't bite often...

Notes: I do apologize for the extreme delay. Real Life calls, but I've decided that Real Life can...fillintheblank. Trying to keep the ratings DOWN, yes? This part was a little tricky to write, and I went through several versions before I threw them all out, sat at the computer, and just typed. I'm rather pleased with the result, and I hope you will be, too. I am trying to make the chapters longer, and I'm hoping it's working. Paine makes her apperance, in a strange, odd little way. I get bored sometimes.

It was late afternoon when we arrived in the Macalania Woods, Gippal and myself, and the small army of men who had been sent to "guard" me. It worried me, then, that this mission would require so many men, but I dutifully ignored the warnings in my heart when I accepted.
We had been travelling for two days, over the rough terrain of the Sacred Mountain, passed the unfeeling eyes of the proud Ronso. If it had not been for Gippal, I sincerely doubt I would have made it over that ridge.
Speaking of Gippal...he complained the entire way, to the point we set foot into the Woods. They seemed to have an effect on him, the words of complaint he had been muttering since I informed him we were going to do this mission died on his lips. Awfully tempting lips, at that.
We lagged behind, then, and I took his hand like a nervous schoolgirl. A small smile twitched at the corners of his lips, the most he would allow at this point. The woods always had a profound effect on him, those few times we had visited them together. It was almost as if the songs of the birds that twittered above us spoke to his s as as if he could communicate with the very essence of Nature here.
And maybe he could. My Guardian is a strange man, unlike any I've ever met.
The head of our party, whose name I cannot remember, paused as he saw us lagging. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips, and kind old eyes rolled upwards briefly. He held up his hand, and faced his party.
"We will rest here tonight," he said, his voice soft even though he donned a commander's tone, "and, I hope, we will make it to the Temple by nightfall tomorrow."
I felt the eyes of our group looking sneakily at us, and blushed; everyone knew we were the reason behind our stopping now, even though there was still a half-hour of amber-stained daylight left. None minded, though; we weren't on a war campaign, we were seeking ace ace treaty. At least, that's what we believed.
Gippal set up our tent, despite the offers (and open-jawed protestings) of our fellow travellers. It was unlike a Guardian to make camp when travelling with a group such as ours. But still he did, the muscles that rippled beneath his tanned skin more than used to such labor. As I sat against a tree, my eyes drifting half-closed, I let myself wonder. Gippal had seemed to come from nowhere, one day appearing in Bevelle, a blitzball under one arm and a machina worker's tool belt strapped around his waist. I smiled at the memory, his sandy hair set alight by the silver lights of the Stadium, a lost look on his face. A smile crossed my own, and my eyes fluttered open slowly.
To stare into the single good eye of the object of my thoughts. One eyebrow was quirked, and a playful grin stretched his mouth to one side.
"Daydreaming again, Summoner?" he asked, his formal tone almost mocking, and he plopped, rather ungracefully, at my side. He drew his knees up to his chest, and tossed a small stick on the fire before us.
"Only about you, Guardian mine," I murmured in reply, and a nearly-unnoticable blush spread over his cheeks. He sighed, and wrapped one arm over my shoulders, allowing me to snuggle against his side.
"I have a bad feeling," he said, suddenly, and the sullen look that invaded him gave me a cold shiver. I forced a smile, and pressed my head against his side, looking up adoringly.
"Everything works out for the better, in the end," I recited, a principle pounded into my head from the Summoner training. Gippal scoffed, shaking his head as he leaned down to kiss my forehead.
"They've got you brainwashed, my sweet," he laughed, before ruffling my hair and standing. "You should rest. Long day ahead, and all..."
I never could resist him, I thought as I stood, and my arms slipped around his sunset-framed figure, my cheek fitting perfectly against his neck as my chin found its place on his shoulder.
"Only if you...rest...wit," I," I purred against his ear, and with a languid smile meant just for me, he swept me up, and into the tiny tent.
***
Sweat poured down my face in tiny streams as we finally came into view of the Inn, a small, stately building that had survived the pounding of a machina war. Perhaps it will be over soon, I thought, shielding my eyes against the high-noon sun. We were ahead of schedule, thanks to Gippal's knack for making a shortcut where there was none.
There was a man waiting in front of the Inn, his still-new green pack slung over one shoulder, buldging with potions and ethers and all sorts of accessories. A grin spread over his face as we approached, and he bowed deeply to our party, myself in particular.
"Welcome!" he shouted, hardily, the great grin stretching to his ears. "O'aka the First at your service. What can I get for ye?" His words were tinged with a rare accent, one foreign to me, and the warmth that flowed from him made even our coldest member smile just a little. I laughed, and crouched down to the bag he had already spread out, his goods lying in perfect little rows.
"You certainly keep a lot in that pack..." I observed, my fingers running over the vials of Potions, the other hand snaking towards my coin purse. Just was I was to pay for the vials, as well as a few Ethers and an adorable Chocobo-shaped trinket for my goddaughter, someone above me cleared their throat. I sighed with annoyance, glancing up.
The Maester of Bevelle, Lady Paine, was grinning down at me in amusement. I felt my cheeks blush under that crimson gaze, a gaze that always left me a little embarassed, and Gippal not a little jealous.
"I see you've met the local rouge merchant," she said, with a pointed glance at O'aka the First. He quickly scrambled his belongings together, and, with a quick salute, sprinted towards his waiting snow machina. I chuckled, shaking my head as I stood, leaning against Gippal to brush the snow from my knees. I extended a hand towards the Lady, and she placed the delicately-gloved hand into mine.
"Always a pleasure, milady," I said, softly, kissing the knuckles. A formality, but I couldn't help but notice (and maybe even enjoy) the flare of envy in Gippal's eye. She shook her head, motioning our party towards her own snow machina, and her own troops.
"This way, Summoner Baralai. I trust your journey has been--"
Pleasantries were cut off by a sudden, high-pitched scream. The smell of gunpowder filled the air, and rifle-shots deafened us for a moment.
"Fiend!"
The alarm had been raised. My party grabbed their guns, loaded and ready, and took off down the slope. Gippal had his daggers out, and my hand on elb elbow wasn't enough to hold him back. Heedless of his own safety, he ran down the mountain to face whatever fiend had chosen this moment to attack.
It was huge. I had never seen anything like it. Disgusting brown tentacles whipped every which-way, sending the best soldiers of both Zanarkand and Bevelle flying to the ground. It screamed as a bullet bit into its side, and then whipped a tentacle at the offending gunman. Flames shot towards it, but melting snow quickly put them out.
I saw Gippal then, leaping through the air, his silver daggers glinting in the sunlight. They sunk into the fiend's hide, and the scream it let out pierced the air as harshly as the daggers in its skin. Gippal was thrown off, and he landed, cat-like, black blood dripping down his forearms, the daggers in hand. He lept for another charge, but the sticky tentacle caught him, and I could hear him scream, agony invading his limbs. The fiend didn't throw him t hat had the others, but squeezed him, holding him.
The flowers that covered its soft underbelly opened then, jagged rows of teeth gleaming, and it brought Gippal, its prey, closer and closer.
I couldn't stand by any longer. My staff was my only means of support now, and I closed my eyes, clung to it, and whispered the prayers that would bring forth the Aeons.
The Earth opened up, it seemed, and the world went dark as I fell to my knees. Ifrit, the Aeon of Fire, tossed his head back in a mighty roar, and the fiend dropped Gippal. I cannot remember what happened next, only that, as I knelt next to Gippal, tending his mangled leg with the white magic I had learnt, Ifrit's fires blazed around us, and the shrieks from the mangled fiend were satisfying, in a sadistic way, to my ears.

*~*Aht Bynd Vuin*~*
Title: Dreams of Macalania [Three]

Aht Bynd Vuin: End Part Four.
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