Title: Night Lights
Challenge: Sweet Dreams (or not?)
Word Count: 100
Warnings: The usual spoiler about Auron's little secret.
Blue, green, shimmering gold flashes often roused Lulu from sleep and set her heart pounding. She could never be sure whether they were remnants of nightmare or real, those baleful death-gleams dancing above the bunk like wisps of wind made visible. The reassuring darkness of her cabin put such fears to shame. The mage gripped the pillow more tightly to avoid digging into Auron's shoulder, and closed her eyes resolutely.
Pyreflies. Once she had found them beautiful, a stubborn reminder of life that Sin could change but not vanquish. Now they were sands slipping through the hourglass of her heart.
Lemme blat something stream-of-consciousness that fits the theme, shall I?
Challenge: Sweet Dreams
Word Count: 300
In Lulu's dreams, they were always walking.
No surprise: after three pilgrimages, she had learned the art of dozing on her feet.
Sometimes Yuna glided before them, sometimes Ginnem, and sometimes there was no Summoner at all. Sometimes they searched grimly through circuitous caverns for a staff, a scrap of fabric, some trace, even blood...
Yet sometimes Lulu dreamed that they were walking south, side by side. The southern cliffs of the Calm Lands rising up before their eyes were a view that Summoners and Guardians seldom faced (although she had seen it twice, once without a Summoner, once trailing dejectedly behind Father Zuke). The sunlight was so clear, so bright, so true it hurt her eyes.
Rikku and Tidus were frisking around Yuna who wore a spidery daisy chain courtesy of her cousin, all the crown of triumph the High Summoner needed with her sweet smile. Wakka seemed to have shed his clumsiness, and Lulu felt a stab of benevolence towards him, forgiveness for all the times he had been a fool. Kimahri paced far ahead as honor guard; Lulu had always assumed he would die inches from Yuna.
Sir Auron was walking beside Lulu at the back of the party where he had always been, sword sheathed, duties met, scars appeased: walking with an easy swing, not with that inexorable stride carrying him towards a deadly goal.
Not that Auron relaxed even now. Aloof as ever, he was simply there. Lulu knew vaguely there was some miracle at work she should not examine too closely, lest he slip away like dawn's first blush. She savored the wind ruffling his gray hair and wondered where and how to lodge a Legendary Hero at rest, whether she dared try to seduce him to disembark at a mysterious port called "home."