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Part III. See what I mean by word heavy? sweatdrop

Lenne gawked. How could he possibly know Dad? She thought, disbelief showing on her face. It was nothing compared to the looks that Yuna and Tidus were giving him, though. The look on her father’s face said quite plainly that he’d never seen this young man before in his life. Yuna’s jaw had practically hit the floor, and it remained that way, with her totally unaware of it. Lenne stared between the boy and her father, unsure of what to make of all this. Tidus blinked a few times, the incredulous look in his eyes nothing compared to Yuna’s.

“I’ve never seen you before!” Tidus protested, still agog. The young man laughed, and Lenne’s heart skipped a beat; it was a sound as smooth as the rocks on the bottom of a stream. She’s never heard an easier laugh in her life, save for Rikku, who was always willing to spread her mirth around.

“I wouldn’t think so,” Anaïs said. “Everyone where I come from knows you; you’re Tidus of the Zanarkand Abes.”

It was Lenne’s turn to whirl around and stare incredulously. Hadn’t they talked about the Zanarkand Abes last night? Why hadn’t her parents said anything? Then, Lenne realized something.

“He can’t possibly be. Zanarkand was destroyed over a thousand years ago!” She turned to face her parents for some sort of explanation, but their guilty faces simply served to confuse her. “No, you’re wrong! He just looks like him!” she said the words aloud, but as soon as they’d passed her lips, she knew that she didn’t believe a morsel of them. Somehow, her parents had lied to her all of her life. How could her father possibly be from Zanarkand? Lenne felt her knees begin to tremble, and she flopped down onto the other bed.

“No; I know it’s him—I’ve followed blitzball my entire life. I even remember when your father played.” The young man smiled; it was a flash of sunlight in the darkening room. “Jecht was insanely good.”

“Jecht? Your father, Jecht?” Lenne demanded, her voice rising in pitch. She struggled to maintain her composure as the pieces of her world came crashing down around her. Her dead grandfather was from Zanarkand as well? But she’d been to Zanarkand once during the summer with Rikku, and there was nothing there except ruins and monkeys. How could anyone possibly live there? Maybe he got hit on the head, Lenne thought, grasping for anything that would help her to calm down.

“Um . . . how . . . how old are you?” Tidus asked, as though not sure of himself anymore. Lenne had never heard such uncertainty in her father’s voice before. The young man laughed.

“Oh, I’m only seventeen. I was five when Jecht disappeared, and only got to see him play once. It was unforgettable. And you . . . I must have seen every game you ever played until the stadium was destroyed . . .” suddenly, realization came to his face. “Hey; you’ve only been gone for two years—why do you look so much older?”

Yuna’s hands flew to Tidus’ and she squeezed. Lenne always thought it odd that her mother acted as though he were going to disappear when she needed him the most. Yuna sighed, and sank down onto the bed next to her daughter, who promptly jumped up. Yuna sighed again. Lenne stood between the boy and her mother, unsure of where she wanted to be, lest it look awkward. She finally settled on the edge of her own bed, down by the foot. Yuna closed her eyes for a moment, her hand still gripping Tidus’ before she spoke.

“Do you remember what I told you about the temples and the fayth?” Yuna asked, as though getting Lenne to talk would calm her daughter down.

“The fayth made aeons that could be used in battle, but once Sin was destroyed, the fayth became useless and dried up,” Lenne said, almost monotonously, wondering where this was all going to lead. Yuna nodded for the briefest moment.

“That’s just a small part of it. I defeated Sin twenty years ago so that the fayth could finally stop their dreaming. Killing Sin ended the spiral of death that we were all so caught up in. I Sent all the Aeons that the fayth had created, and the fayth stopped being corporeal in this world.” Yuna shuddered, and it looked as though she were going to cry. Lenne’s heart jumped into her throat. She’d never seen her mother cry before. Tidus perched on the edge of the bed, both arms around Yuna.

“I’m here, I’m here,” he murmured, kissing her temple. She held onto him tightly in return, as if afraid of letting go.

“The dreams of the fayth disappeared as they fell asleep. Tidus is one of those dreams, brought back to me by the fayth. It took two years for them to . . . to bring him back. And in those two years, I’d all but given up hope.” Yuna bit her lower lip as she finished her brief story. Lenne sat for a moment, letting it all sink in. Her father was a dream? That was impossible; how could dreams come to life? And if her father was a dream, didn’t that mean that Anaïs was a dream as well? But she’d felt his touch, and it was as real as Nyshla was to her. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to calm down.

“You mean Dad might disappear someday?”

“Well, he hasn’t yet . . .” Yuna started, but Lenne cut her off.

“If he’s a dream, doesn’t that make me part dream? Do I not really exist? I can’t believe you never told me any of this!” Lenne cried, jumping up and stalking out of the room. She nearly ran over Nyshla, who’d been on her way up the stairs to see how the boy was doing. Nyshla took one look at Lenne’s face and backed away.

“Hey! What’s wrong . . . where are you going?” she asked as Lenne stomped down the stairs. Nyshla attempted to follow, but Lenne whirled around on her.

“Leave me alone!” Lenne cried, and Nyshla stayed where she was as Lenne made her way down the steps and out the door, her eyes brimming with tears. She knew that she needed to get out of there, and broke into a run as she passed the fires and other’s houses, her feet leading her down the path toward the beach. It wasn’t a conscious choice, but her stumbling feet seemed to know where she was going, and she simply let them carry her. On the way, she passed Kivem and her brothers who were laughing about something or another. She sniffled, doubting whether she’d ever laugh again.

“Hey Lenne! Where are you going?” Kivem asked, but she didn’t answer; only let herself stumble down the hill toward the beach.

She flopped down onto the wet sand as the white-capped waves came crashing down in the distance. The sun was low in the sky; a large orange orb reflecting twofold against the deep blue waters of the sea. The sky was streaked with a child’s watercolor of orange, gold, and pink, and the ocean mirrored the sky, save for the whiteness of the waves as they crashed over the rocks in the distance. The sky behind her was just turning from steel gray to dark purple, and a few misty white clouds blew through the sky above, tangling with the setting sun and becoming a most marvelous magenta color. Lenne drew a deep breath as she took in her surroundings, but found that she could divulge no joy in watching the colors blend together and spill out over the sparkling water. Not tonight; not when the very essence of her existence could possibly be in danger. Perhaps never again.

The first tears came as the sea washed into her lap, its touch that of a longtime friend; warm and loving. She could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and splashing into the seawater; mixing with the salt of the ocean until the two were inseparable.

Someone touched her shoulder, and she turned just a bit, hoping it wasn’t her mother or Lenne just might tell her off. Instead, the kind face of Kivem looked back at her, his citrine eyes a swirl of green and pine and emerald around the pupil. More tears of Lenne’s splashed into the water as she reached for him, and he settled down on the wet sand next to her, holding her in his arms, her tears soaking through the front of his shirt. She held him tight around his ribs; tight enough to make it uncomfortable, but he never complained. The pounding of his heart in her ear calmed her and stopped most of the tears. After a long while, she finally stopped crying, and drew in a shaky breath. He stopped running his fingers through her honey-blonde hair, and helped her to sit back up.

She squeezed her arms tight about her and felt just a touch embarrassed; for she knew that she must look a mess. Kivem raised a hand to her cheek to wipe her tears away. Lenne sighed and opened her eyes. Kivem sat there, her face in his hands, a comforting look playing across his lips and eyes. She gave him a small half-smile and covered his hands with her own.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as she gently removed his hands and pressed them together between her own. She drew another shuddering breath and bit her lower lip, hard enough to taste blood, in order to stop herself crying again.

“Do you remember,” she began, her voice trembling, “when we were kids? We always thought that our parents had some special club that we were never allowed into.” She paused for a moment, trying to keep her hands from shaking. Kivem nodded encouragingly.

“Yeah, because they always sent us away when they wanted to talk about things like your mom’s pilgrimage,” he said, his voice only sounding slightly intrigued. Lenne hung her head, not quite willing to look him in the eyes.

“They’ve lied to me my entire life,” she whispered, not trusting her voice any louder. Kivem’s hands dropped from hers, and she risked a look at his incredulous face; precisely the look she hadn’t wanted to see. She felt another wave of tears try to overtake her, and she bit her lower lip even harder to take her mind off of it; because if she thought about it one iota more than she already was, she’d be a mess in his arms again.

“Tell me everything, Lenne,” he said, cupping her face in his hands again and giving her an encouraging kiss on the forehead. She ended up crying again, halfway through her tale, as the streaky sky above them deepened to purple and velvety black amongst the rays of the stars and the moon. He held her until most of the hurt and all of the tears ebbed away.

“And I don’t understand why they couldn’t just tell me. If I’d grown up knowing, it wouldn’t be any big deal, but the fact that they’ve lied about it . . .” she looked up at Kivem, her hurt evident in her pretty blue eyes. Kivem squeezed her hand.

“Lenne, it’s probably more complicated than that. Imagine being two years old and asking your parents a question. They don’t know the answer, so they make it up. Now they’re not merely omitting certain details, but outright lying to you. They probably figured somehow that it wouldn’t come up.” Kivem laced his fingers through hers, and shivered a bit. Lenne shivered too, though not with the cold; night had fully set, and the starts were shining dimly out of the inky purple darkness. While the waves that washed around them were warm and inviting, the air about her had a definitive chill to it. “Just let her talk to you, and then maybe we can all figure out where this Anaïs is from.”

Lenne gave Kivem a half-hearted smile. Maybe he’s right . . . she though, wrinkling her nose. “We probably ought to get back; they’ll send a search party otherwise.” He helped her to stand and she gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You’re such a great friend, Kivem,” she said, trembling just a bit from the cold night air.

“I know, I know; aren’t I the greatest?” he said, crossing his arms over his chest, and looking annoyingly cocky. Lenne smiled wickedly as she jumped on his back.

“If your ego was any bigger, you’d be able to float on it,” she teased, holding on tightly as he reached behind to poke her between her ribs. She giggled instantly, and released him—leave it to Kivem to remember where she was most ticklish—and dashed away back toward the town. He whooped and chased after her up the path. Halfway there, he caught up to her and threw her over his broad shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She yelped as he “accidentally-on-purpose” almost dropped her; she kicked her feet, demanding to be put down.

“This is undignified!” she yelled, pummeling his back with her fists. He laughed and set her down just outside the village proper. She straightened her clothes and steeled herself for the lecture she was about to receive.