Setting: FFX, airship heading for Yuna's wedding
Theme + Number: Scared (Silly) #38
Pairing: Auron, Lulu
Summary: Lulu likes being in control. This ain't even close.
When the ice had broken beneath their feet, and Sin's heaving maw lurched under them, alive with crawling scales, Lulu had not blanched. When she had awakened in the middle of alien, blinding heat facedown in the sand, she had merely shrugged, staggered to her feet, and started walking. But now, clinging to the rivets of an Al Bhed machina that had seemed too massive to fly and was now hurtling downwards as if it had forgotten how -- oh, yes, she was frightened. Terrified, in fact.
The buckles of Lulu's dress were clanking against the hull, and in a moment she would lose her grip. What good were Yuna's Guardians if Rikku's mad father lost them en route to Bevelle?
She tried to call for help, but fear or speed ripped the words from her throat.
Auron was shouting something behind her. Let go? Surely she had misheard. But the careening descent left her no choice. Her hands suddenly lost purchase as the nose of the ship tipped downward, and she felt herself falling up and away from the skin of the ship.
Too fast to pray or scream, she felt a buffeting blow in the small of her back. An instant later she found herself mashed against the ship's skin once again.
"Grab hold," Auron shouted in her ear.
Rigid with terror, the mage found she could not stir a muscle. She realized that the arm around her waist belonged to the stoic swordsman, who was now clinging to the airship one-handed, his gauntlet jammed into a seam between two deck-plates that had been damaged by their battle with Evrae.
Flying. Dear Yevon, she had faced every peril on this journey without a hair-stick slipping out of place, but they were flying on a beast of metal and blasphemy that had no business being airbourne, and apparently meant to atone for its trespass as swiftly as possible. The machina was quaking hard enough to mask her trembling. In other circumstances, she might have enjoyed the taciturn Guardian's embrace (or, more likely, threatened to freeze his arm off at the socket), but right now she was in no condition to savor the improbable moment.
"Grab hold," Auron barked, "or I'll drop you."
"What?" The mage turned her head, aghast. The legendary Guardian was staring straight ahead towards their destination, paying her no more attention than the jug strapped to his belt.
"You have ten seconds," he said harshly.
Horror, disbelief, and spitting anger churned in her stomach for a few perilous seconds, but suddenly Lulu found she could move. Twisting, she managed to get one arm under him and the other hand clamped onto his belt. It was none too soon. He released her and grabbed for another handhold, clinging grimly.
"Thanks," the mage hissed through gritted teeth. "Remind me to kill you after we've rescued Yuna."
She wasn't sure whether Auron had heard her, but for some reason he seemed to be smiling.