Song of Thunder { verse | s t r i k e }

Black night is falling
The sun is gone to bed
The innocent are dreaming
As you should sleepy-head...




"You think he's gonna be okay?" Jecht peered around Braska's shoulder at the unconscious man slumped in the chair.

"He will be fine." Braska said softly, listening as another bolt of lightning struck a nearby tower.

"That sword sure acted like a lightning rod, though, huh?" The grizzled guardian tried to keep the 'I-told-you-so' look from crossing his face, even though Auron wasn't able to see it, and he almost managed. It served well enough to keep the worried expression from completely taking over. "For a few minutes, I thought he was gone."

Braska shook his head. His pale blue hair swung free without the restraint of the heavy ornamental crest he usually wore. "No, it would take a lot more than that, I think. Auron has to be one of the strongest people I know."

"The strongest," Jecht smirked, fully aware of Braska's attempt to keep from insulting him in even such a small way. "And the most stubborn."

"That too." Braska agreed with a faint smile.

"He's damn heavy."

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you more." Braska looked repentant: he wore the same look he did whenever his guardians were called upon to protect him, the look that said he wished he were stronger. "If you aren't too tired, I have one more favor to ask. Could you please move him to the bed?"

"Hey, Braska. He's, um, soaked."

It was true. The rain had soaked completely through all their clothing during the trip across the Thunder Plains, but neither of them had seemed to notice after the lightning had struck Auron down.

"We all are. But..." Braska went to the closet at the corner of the room. The Travel Agency usually provided spare robes and blankets for the travelers, and the quarters given to a Summoner and Guardians were generally even better so. He opened the closet door, and sure enough, two dark, soft robes hung on pegs in the back.

He pulled them out, and returned to where Jecht was crouched by Auron. "See?"

"Nice of 'em," Jecht grunted, and looked at Auron. "Now we gotta get him outta this." He looked decidedly uncomfortable, like he'd rather face an army of giant raldos.

Braska noticed this, and tilted his head. "Something wrong?"

"He's probably going to kill me. You know that, right?"

The summoner fought to hide his smile. "Ah. I didn't stop to think of that before. I'll help, and that way he can't get too angry, then, right? He'll catch his death like this, anyway."

Jecht didn't look so sure, but he took the robe anyway, throwing it over his shoulder as he turned his attention back to the unconscious guardian, reaching for one booted foot. He moved carefully, as if afraid Auron would wake at any moment, carefully removing both boots and setting them to the side. "His feet are frozen," Jecht said quietly, looking up to see Braska nod. The summoner reached out, stroking back strands of wet black hair before laying his hand gently across Auron's forehead.

"He's fevered."

"Damn." Jecht straightened a little, eyeing the wide belt around Auron's waist a little uncomfortably. He was thinking of bad things, but mainly, the bad things the stuffy Auron would do to him if he awoke to find Jecht stripping him. Braska or no Braska, Auron's wrath was a dangerous thing to invoke.

Braska chuckled. "You look like he's going to jump up and bite you."

"How do I know he's not?" Jecht whispered back fiercely, the scowl on his face intensifying as Braska laughed. He sighed, and reached for the first of the two buckles.

After the second buckle, Auron hadn't bit him, much less jumped up. Jecht relaxed a little, and carefully slid the robe off Auron's shoulders. "All right. Now I gotta get him up."

Braska nodded, and Jecht pulled the unconscious guardian up, wrapping one of Auron's arms around his neck. Braska pulled the robe away from Auron, and tossed it to the chair. "Might as well get him down, right?"

"Yeah."

The summoner took Auron's other side, and slowly the two made their way to the bed. Auron was no help; they laid him down as gently as possible, but his head flopped backwards like dead weight, and he would have fallen to the bed had Braska not been there to support him.

"I think I almost like him better when he's awake," Jecht murmured. Braska's eyes flickered from Auron to Jecht, who was looking at the unconscious man with much more concern than usual.

"I...apologize for his rash behavior. He may seem a little cold, but he's really a wonderful person." Braska smiled. "I've known him since I was a child."

Jecht made a face. "I think he just doesn't like me."

Braska undid the gold ribbon that held Auron's severe ponytail, slowly finger-combing through the man's long hair. "It's not that at all. You're just, I suppose, different from the people he's known before. He's used to people treating me like some sort of silly god, and thinks that therefore I should be treated as such. I don't have the heart to tell him to back down anymore. Don't take his words personally, Jecht. He really means well."

Jecht nodded, and pulled on Auron's sleeveless black shirt. It made a wet sucking sound and tried to stick to the skin beneath, but Jecht coerced the reluctant fabric up over the man's chest. Braska, who was kneeling halfway on the bed, raised both of Auron's arms, and the shirt came off with little hesitation. It dropped to the floor.

The summoner looked down at Auron's face, and a small smile passed over his lips. "Beautiful, isn't he?"

As much as he didn't want to say it...Jecht made a small sound of resignation and nodded. "Yeah."

"Oh." Braska noticed a jagged line of pink flesh, an almost-healed scar that ran from the bottom of Auron's right shoulder blade to the small of his back. It was, at one point in the recent past, a fairly deep wound, one that had almost healed and then been torn open again far too many times. "I hadn't seen this one before." He sighed softly as he shook his head, running his fingertip along the healed wound. "He should have shown me. I could have done much to heal it faster."

Jecht lifted his head, but said nothing. Braska was almost too eager to help in any way he could. He always did what he could to make sure both his companions were in great health, despite what the strain of so much curative magic placed on its caster.

Jecht was silent for a few minutes, contemplating the wounds he also hid from Braska. Despite what the stiff may say, I think we're a lot alike.

A tremor ran the length of Auron's body, bringing to mind the fact that they were all soaking wet with an unconscious, fever-ridden man to take care of. One who still had a little bit of wet clothing left to attend to, Jecht thought ruefully.

"Would it be better if he were standing?" Braska asked mildly, looking Auron over once more.

"Probably."

Jecht's voice sounded so strained, it took much more control than usual to keep Braska from breaking down into peals of laughter. He figured that neither guardian would find the situation humorous, but Braska was still quite amused by Jecht's exasperation.

"Alright, then. I think I can hold him up."

Jecht nodded, handing the clean robe to his summoner, who managed to get Auron's arms through the sleeves with little difficulty. He imagined a whole host of unpleasant things, mainly involving the Travel Agency's owner (Rin, was it? That Al Bhed merchant...) coming in to find the two of them removing the last bits of clothing from an unconscious man. Or even worse -- Auron waking up.

He realized that he'd been thinking about that disaster far too much. Shiiiit...

"Let's get it done."

Braska managed to steady Auron's weight against his own after Jecht had pulled him up, and was now straightening the dark robe so it hung right on his body. Jecht was mentally preparing himself. Not that he had anything against Auron being naked, nor that their proximity was something to complain about either. It was just very, very awkward, and Jecht absolutely hated awkward moments.

Concern overrode the awkwardness for a moment, though. Auron wasn't getting any drier in wet clothing, and if fever was any indication, he was really in for it.

Gods...don't wake up right now...

He slipped his hands beneath the waist of Auron's soaked trousers and paused for a moment, wondering why exactly he was feeling awkward. He'd never been much to spend time thinking about what others may think of him, and it wasn't like he'd never been in a locker room full of naked ballers. Braska wasn't really trying to hide his attraction to the unconscious guardian, either, and as strange as that seemed to Jecht, it really made a lot of sense. Auron wasn't exactly subtle in his worship of Braska. As for where he fit in...

"Jecht..?" Braska's voice cut through his thoughts, and he started almost guiltily. "He is heavy..."

"Oh yeah...right. Sorry." Jecht looked apologetically up at Braska's calmly amused face, and then turned to the task at hand. He slid Auron's pants, and whatever lay beneath, down off the unconscious man's hips, desperately trying not to think about what he was doing. The gray material clung unpleasantly to all the places it was supposed to hide, and Jecht's thoughts turned elsewhere.

Think of that shoopuf. Think of that old maester. Think of...eesh...Kinoc...

There. Done.

Jecht breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he stood. Braska's arms snaked around Auron's waist, tying the belt to the robe securely, before he literally 'gave' Auron back to the other man. Gently, Jecht laid Auron on the bed, pulling the blanket over the unconscious guardian.

"Thank you," Braska said, looking at Jecht as a small smile flickered across his lips.

"Not a problem." Jecht sat down beside Auron on the other side of the bed, then began to take his own boots off. "Now, it's just waiting until he's awake."

Braska nodded. "He should be awake within the next hour or so. I think I will get some rest."

Jecht sighed, and scratched the back of his head. "I think he'd be happier to wake up and find you here than me." Odd man out, as he'd heard so many times.

"I don't think he'd be too adverse to finding you here either, Jecht." Braska's smile widened and he bowed his head, resting forehead to forehead against Auron. "He doesn't think so badly of you. I promise." He whispered a spell, and then stood, brushing Auron's hair back from his face one more time.

"Alright, then. I'll keep a look out for him."

"Thank you, Jecht. And why don't you get changed, too? You are also soaked."

Jecht nodded, his gaze fixed on the way Braska watched Auron, even when the summoner stood and headed for the door. He followed Braska, and leaned up against the doorjamb, crossing his arms in his usual pose.

"You love him, don't you?"

Braska looked at him and smiled. But it was a sad smile, one filled with just enough bitterness to hurt. "I am his Summoner, and he is my Guardian."

"So?" Jecht shook his head. Who cares?

The summoner turned and walked towards his own room, a few doors down the hall. "Take care of him, Jecht. I will see you in the morning, if he is well enough to continue."

Jecht was left there, standing, watching, long after Braska was gone.

Then he too turned, and closed the door behind him.

The second robe lay abandoned by the chair, and he picked it up. It only took a minute for him to strip and put it on, burying his face in the fuzzy, warm material of the collar. Still cold, though. He turned, and strode with purpose toward the hearth and a stack of wood (or was that dried cactaur?) sitting nearby, just waiting for someone to make a fire.

Jecht knelt by the hearth, hoping that all those times he'd spent watching Auron light the campfire would prove handy. He'd always been far too proud to ask to learn, besides, he didn't need want the former monk gloating over yet another thing he was inept at. Fire-building had never been particularly important to Jecht. He lived on a boat. He practically lived in the water.

Not anymore, though.

He shook his head to clear those thoughts away, and concentrated on building the fire. He grabbed a handful of the dried grass set out as tinder, and stacked the wood on top of it in almost precisely the same manner that Auron did. He then reached out for the flint.

[crack, crack]

C'mon, work with me...

[crack...]

The sparks caught the dried grass, and Jecht fought the urge to let out a whoop of victory. He watched, almost proudly, as the small grass-fire caught the wood. Although it was a small fire, he'd done it, without anyone else's help.

Once he was assured that his fire wouldn't go out, Jecht stood and began retrieving both his and Auron's wet clothing. He hung the garments near the fire, spreading them out so that they'd dry as soon as possible.

Now what?

Jecht realized there was nothing else to do. So he sat back down on the bed, giving an exhausted yawn as he curled up into a ball, facing Auron's profile. He studied the man sleeping there, wondering what exactly it was about him that had broken something within him. It wasn't a painful breaking, just an emptiness, calling for something.

Sometimes, he felt it inside of him. It accompanied the same sensation he felt whenever something he cherished was threatened, whether it was a blitzball championship or a son's safety, a downpour of sudden emotion that he couldn't stop. It was the thing he hid from Tidus, even when the young boy cried, because showing too much would make one soft, and that was the worst thing that could happen to an already soft person.

Too soft, and you'll break at the slightest rumor of breeze.

Jecht bit his lip thoughtfully as he watched the rise and fall of Auron's chest. He felt the pull, he wanted to curl himself around the other and stay that way until the danger was over. What it meant, he wasn't sure, but it was useless to deny it, at least to himself.

Why?

Maybe because he'd seen a strong man, stronger even than himself, reduced to nothing but a heap of flesh and bone in an instant. Maybe because this man was also charged with the guardianship of Braska.

Or maybe it was something else.

Jecht sighed quietly, and curled up a little tighter, resting one arm on his side. There was nothing else to do.

So he watched Auron sleep.