#A miqo’te with Ties to Allag // G’raha Tia

[soulsxunbound]

Tag drop pt.1

[whitherliliesbloom]

tall tales

[ ffxivwrite2020 ] ★ [ my writings ]  ★ [ prompt #03 - muster ]

[ platonic g’raha & wol ]  ★ [ 994 words ]  ★ [ 5.3 spoilers ]

g’raha tia & vague mention of a nameless oc shipped with g’raha, so any g’raha shippers can insert your oc here =3c

no story is better recited than by the warrior of light herself

There’s few things in life more heartening than a pair of youthful eyes, untainted by the hardships and ruthlessness of the world, staring right up at one as if she was their entire world. And yet she’s found herself surrounded by not one, not two but four pairs of such eyes. Their stare was as hopeful as they were pleading, however.

“Oh please, please tell us another story, miss!”

“Yes!! I wanna know just how you managed to get so strong!! Tell us about what other kinds of villains you’ve had to fight!”

She was a woman of a great many talents; a hero not just in the field of combat, but also a prodigious artisan, highly respected botanist.. and rumored to be the infamous Azuro the second to boot. But for a famed figure of such renown, she was helplessly inept with speaking - more so than she was at lifting her sword without the help of her own mana. Nearly a whole ten summers may have come and gone when she’d last remembered herself, a pathetic little girl who could barely even muster the courage to ask for directions.. and while she was certainly not the same woman she was before, Illya hardly considers herself a great minstrel.

“Well, it seems you’ve got quite an audience for yourself here.” Somebody chirps, voice too jovial considering he must have certainly gotten out of bed rest against the wishes of a certain someone. “Might I be fortunate enough to hear the Warrior of Light recite her tales for me too?”

G’raha does not even wait for a response from his less chatty comrade before he parks himself beside her, the fur of his tail puffing up as it swishes from side to side. He is right at home among the other children, his ruby red eyes gleamed with a joy that hid years of pain beneath what shred of his childlike playfulness he’s regained, at least to those who were none the wiser. 

“Were you not part of a great deal of my adventures already?” The lalafell manages something of a smirk, which elicits a toothy grin from the miqo’te in return. 

“Not all of it, regretfully. And we hadn’t exactly the time to share much before. ‘Tis plain as day I’ve missed many chapters of your story.” 

That was a sentiment he’s expressed many times over now, first as the Exarch that she barely understood to the return of the eccentric allagan she’d traversed the crystal tower with. She never quite understood what change was until she’d seen him, and the consequence of his sacrifice manifesting as solid crystals that crept up his flesh like poisonous vines. And as much as she’d thought of the change he’s had to undergo, so too did the exarch echo her thoughts.

‘You’ve changed much since I last remembered you, my friend.’

And while she’d lamented what he became, hated knowing of the hardship he’s had to endure in her absence, the exarch celebrated her change. 

Here he was now, no longer the exarch.. but a man changed from his experiences all the same, excited to hear of what molded her to become the woman she is today - to hear of how she’d mustered the strength to change with the tides.

Illya finds herself at the mercy of his hopeful stare. The thought of shattering his excitement was perhaps a tad too much for her to bear.

“And who might you be, mister? You seem like an adventurer too! You must know the Warrior of Light really well!” What one child voiced out as they waved their arms excitedly in the air, their sentiments would be shared by their peers.

“Oh oh! Are you a hero too?? Wow! I didn’t know we’d get to talk to so many brave, strong heroes today!!”

G’raha’s face nearly bursts into a shade of red to match the hues of his hair, ears pressed flat against his head. Perhaps the him Illya knew many summers ago would have proudly proclaimed that he was, and she could almost hear that boisterous voice that had first challenged her ringing distantly in her ears. 

But she’s come to accept him as the same, as G’raha Tia. 

“Oh! No,no. I’m nobody of importance at all!”

After all, she too has changed much since their very first meeting, since the first time she’d trembled and shaken like a leaf upon hearing his disembodied voice at Urth’s Gift.

“If you self-deprecate again, G’raha.. I’m going to have to tell her.”

She needn’t speak of that name, and the man knew this with a terrified whip of his tail. Her remark was a jest, of course... glowing in confidence now though she may be, she was still nowhere on the level of her friend, who was the only other person who meant more to the allag prince than even she. But the frantic shake of his head would’ve proven that he knew otherwise.

“Oh, no please! I won’t say anything like that again today, I promise!” He was certain to incur his beloved’s wrath for his leaving his bed without asking permission first, he needn’t her be given another reason to grow more upset.

Illya’s heart soars, as does the voices of the children as they burst out laughing at the expense of a certain scion, but he was quick to recover himself with a smile and a nonchalant flick of his ears. Some things never do change in life. 

“So. About that story.”

He turns the crowd’s gazes back onto her, and the young lalafellin woman could not help but to droop her shoulders in defeat.

“Well.. I suppose I have a little more time for another story.”

Cheers erupted even above the usual bustling crowds of Mor Dhona, but the children were quick to settle down when the Warrior of Light snaps her book close with an exuberant smile. 

“So, what tale shall I tell?”

[crystalliccs]

                 WHAT IT MEANS TO BE ALIVE.    PART ONE.                       ________________________

                 Note: Female Warrior of Light/Darkness. Miqo’te. Summoner.                  Part one is completely sfw! (And it’s not beta read. Do not judge.)

                 HEAVY PATCH 5.3 SPOILERS.

                 Word Count: 4844 (read more-cut due to the length)                  Ship: G’raha Tia/WoL                       ________________________

The sharp, illuminous blade reflected the light perfectly as he swung it several times in fluent motions – full glad that only for once he could do this without any curious eyes watching him. And yet it was almost as if their shadows still lingered inside the rooms of the Rising Stones, gawking and eagerly commenting his work. Yet the man failed to grasp their fascination for his skills completely; as he understood that he was scarcely more than a fresh beginner in so many aspects. Perchance even far less experienced than them all. And, merely sometimes, he felt at loss – overwhelmed by his very own emotions dwelling inside, as he could sense a trace of pride, of honor. Thus he could hardly afford to rest and enjoy his very own life when he had done naught so far.

With this young body of his, at least.

It was tedious and so very different from controlling his body in the First; albeit he would debate if those crystalline shapes he walked on ever truly had been his in the first place. No, to be quite frank he had to debate if he ever were truly alive as Exarch - shedding off all of his humanity to outlive the eternal slumber for a little longer so that he could reach for the salvation of their worlds. And truthfully, it had made him be far more powerful than he had imagined it would. Connecting his own aether with the collected boundless amount of the sun, all stored within the central spire, he had become far more than the marionette of the voices of the ancient Allag whispering to him whenever he closed his sanguine hues.

It had not been his very own aether which fed his body for an entire century; and most certainly wasn’t an old man - who hardly ever left the Ocular for so many decades - supposed to be able to keep up with true heroes of another world who knew no other life. Yet he had achieved as much; borrowing the strength to do so by shortening his close to now immortal life, step by step.

Oh, he gladfully endured this all – feeling the icy coldness of the crystallization proceeding to cover his chest so ever slowly with every spell he conjured. It had been a slow death – one he embraced should the time arrive.

Yet the time had changed. He could no longer rely on such ancient secrets – nor could he sacrifice what had been bestowed upon him. Another chance.

Even a few weeks after awakening from his long slumber, G’raha was still far from being satisfied of the very condition of his very own body. Though younger and revitalized as he still so very freshly remembered through his younger soul deep inside, it was still far more challenging to use the very own resources of it instead of relying on the power bestowed by ancient technology. Truthfully, it had taken him all this time to remember himself of his common body’s functions, as pathetic and foolish as it was – such as the need to even sleep. Albeit he had undeniably become better in managing such normal needs by now, the Miqo’te still attempted to push himself towards his own limits every now and then, exploring the possibilities.

He had lost count of the many apologies he had mumbled recently, uncertain how to behave or control himself in this new environment when both of his souls still attempted to grasp that he had indeed broken free of his chains. An impossible task, as it seemed. It would take him more than one century of him mostly isolating himself inside the Crystal Tower to not notice certain individuals’ worried gazes. One particular ambitious lalafell somehow always showed her motherly face when he indeed started to feel unwell, gently reminding him to rest. Oh, and it was by far not only Tataru, unfortunately. They all kept a close eye on him.

So, he feared naught at changed – that he was still the very same.

Yet such knowledge only made him strengthen his resolve to work on himself so much more; lest he became a burden to his newfound comrades.

The man had to admit that some very selfish part of him wanted to step out of the Rising Stones and join the others for longer, raising his own cup when they did and enjoying the prepared feast to the fullest. Perchance even catch a glance or two upon the smiling face of his beloved who finally indulged in such activities after all she had done. But how could he? His lips would merely curl into one of these delightful smiles he only had for her whenever she glanced upon him, without him ever saying those words which always lingered on his tongue. Words of affection, of love. And, as he feared, he would merely get teased for it once again. Albeit he had never spoken about such thoughts with anyone, he was quite certain that a few individuals were fully aware of what he truly felt. In fact, he already considered such assumption in the First.

And still his lips remained sealed.

The man quickly twirled on one steady foot, with the tip of his illuminous blade drawing one perfect circle to pierce through a great chunk of wood of the dummy he had used for the past twenty minutes. For once he did not even feel the harsh impact on its sturdy surface inside his muscles – unlike all of his previous attempt over the course of several days. His sanguine eyes widened a little by his own display of strength as he was taking one sharp breath. Soft clapping echoed from the stony walls of the room, as he realized that he was indeed not alone at all. Perchance he had been mistaken that anyone would participate in the festival after all, but he could certainly cope.

Quickly sheathing his sword again, head slightly tilting to glance upon his observer, G’rahas lips lightly opened in surprise.

“One clean cut. You have indeed been practicing a lot, lately – haven’t you? I believe you have been less proficient last time I saw you swinging a sword against a proper opponent”, the Warrior of both Light and Darkness spoke as she took a few steps closer to him, mint eyes glaring with unbelief.

Truthfully, he had hoped she would not become witness of such poor display of skill until he had honed such a little more; yet he could hardly pretend that seeing her was unpleasant in any possible way. Her company never was, albeit this was perchance no convenient time.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, playfully pouting yet her aggressively swinging tail was indeed telling him that she was annoyed. Angry even, mayhap. His eyebrows slightly furrowed as his expression softened into a silent apology as immediate reaction – knowing full well she deserved as much. And so much more.

“But - G’raha, really. Pray tell me you do not intend to hide away here and train all by yourself whilst everyone else is enjoying themselves”, she continued, carefully watching him as she stopped a few fulm in front of him – seemingly judging him with every fiber of her body.

“Oh, about that. Well, I merely considered this as fine opportunity to spar with myself without disturbing anyone else. Though, in truth, I am still getting accustomed to how loud and crowded it can be in the Rising Stones. So ‘tis indeed a quite welcome change”, he attempted to explain with a gentle voice, with his ears excitedly twitching as so very often when he spoke with her.

In the very end he would not dare to say the full truth about his endeavor. Nor that he not solely did it for himself – but also for her.

“Hardly an excuse to miss such a rare opportunity, I daresay. You need the rest more than any of us. Besides, everyone poured their hearts’ content into the preparation. You included. ‘Tis hardly fair if you do not participate.”

“I indeed had one cup of fine ale thus far”, the man shrugged, albeit his facial expression remained the very same. Kind and soft.

“And I had two. This is not a contest”, the woman reminded him, easing her posture for merely a little. She moved around him towards one the many empty chairs near him, which were usually always filled. But not now, when the spirit of enthusiasm had long departed to celebrate outside with everyone else. If she truly ever had been angry at him, it was scarcely noticeable by now.

G’raha could not help but to feel relieved upon such sight, feeling the tension of his still agitated muscles to disappear by merely looking at her. Her small silhouette seemed almost…calm – as calm as one could be before the next raging storm was fast approaching. He knew this too well. And it would come – particularly since the most recent reports from Garlemald had certainly stirred more than one rumor in these halls. It was indeed worrisome, to say at least. Yet perchance this was not the right moment to speak of such topic. If the situation changed, they were the first to know anyway. And until then, well – there was so much to discuss. To consider.

Mayhap his own selfishness indeed drove him to such decision to prepare himself to become her shield if he must. One final burden to bear, one she had not to know of. It had been his choice, in the very end. One he had not to oblige, yet his heart demanded.

For her there was still a chance to enjoy this evening if she left and let him be.

“So, my inspirational friend and hero, pray enlighten me what you seek if you are so unwilling to join the festivities outside. I doubt you have entered the Rising Stones to pry on my poor efforts”, he spoke rather amused, with his velvety tone merely becoming higher in spirits. Of course it was merely a small jest, one he happened to voice every now and then by now, yet genuine curiosity swung inside his very tone as well.

Her eyes widened a little ere she closed them again, her tail curling on her lap in utter defeat. “Mayhap I happen to find it unfitting for myself to enjoy the festivities as well and sought to find a quiet place instead. Not unlike your own idea, as it seems.”

“Ah, it would seem so. Though I fail to fathom how the guest of honor managed to escape unnoticed.” “I have my ways.”

His lips revealed his perfect teeth, a small and yet ever sweet grin as answer to her own she showed after giving such mischievous reply. Truthfully, he indeed felt so much younger when he was with her like this, despite still feeling the nagging burden of his older self at the corner of his mind. In those moments he could almost forget it all – the dark future he had witnessed, the sacrifices he had made just to save countless of lives. She was the only one who could create such oblivion for him – who truly made him feel alive again.

“Perchance now is a good time as any to ask…” The young woman lifted one hand to point it towards the blade resting on his hips, slightly tilting her head. “I have noticed you scarcely ever carry the staff Tataru so carefully prepared for you anymore. Is it not to your liking?”

His chest lifted heavily upon realizing that she had indeed noticed. Suffice to say his eyes had always silently followed her over all these past weeks, even if only to assure himself that she indeed was the same as always. Always determined and strong, prepared to forsake anything in any moment. No, he had even done more than this – eagerly following into her footsteps, even accompanying her once on a small little adventure just as she had promised. Mayhap he had been foolish to assume she would not notice what seemingly everyone else seemed to know already. His ears flopped a little, perchance a little ashamed to admit what he had concealed for the past few weeks.

His hidden struggles, the strains of his muscles and his reckless endeavor just for her sake. Yet could he not at least say as much when she already asked? After his long concealment, of his failed attempts to lie, could he not voice the truth even if only parts of it?

“Well…Controlling my own aether to conjure spells is far more challenging than I had imagined. Though, I believe, I have learned quite well to hold myself by now. Thank goodness for that. Yet there is no doubt in my heart that my poor control of such stand little chance against your mighty summons. However, ‘tis hardly a surprise, of course. When I first woke up in this body again, my mind kept repeating the very same question. And so I pondered… I asked myself what I could possibly do with this newly gained life I embraced. Suffice to say, the conclusion I came to was quite simple. I want to live the very dream of a young boy I once was – and I wish to stand by your side.”

Clenching a fist, he bumped it against his chest a few times, one light smile still visible on his full lips.

“So, I have decided for myself to become your sword and shield henceforth.”

“G’raha…”, she whispered, quietly and slowly rising from the chair she had picked just moments ago, scratching lightly over the stony floor. “You do not have to do this for me.” The thin line of her eyebrows lightly furrowed in concern, light footed steps coming closer once again.

For a mere moment he saw more inside the reflection of her beautiful eyes surrounded by those astonishing long leashes – one hint of an emotion, perhaps fear. An entire tale carefully hidden away inside them, one he yearned to decipher. “So ‘tis as I feared. You still feel the burden on your shoulders, do you not? After all this time… Would it not be possible to make a finer choice than this?”

Her lips began to form more, unspoken words – yet he heard no tone, nor did he know what she attempted to add. Nonetheless he fully understood the true meaning behind them; since he could ask her the very same question.

Why carrying the burden of an entire world when one had the choice not to? Knowing the risks, knowing the countless sleepless nights and the hidden, dry tears deep inside their souls.

“’Tis easier said than done, I fear. You among all should know this as well as I do. You have found and touched many souls on your path – inspired them to act when there was naught left to believe in. In the many moments of desperation, when the hope slipped through their fingers, becoming unreachable by their very own strength, your kindness guided them. “ His lips formed a wry smile, remembering his own naivety in his younger years.

“Of course, I was no exception. And when I first set my mind on this world’s salvation, I realized the full extend of your sacrifices. Over the years the burden became heavier, weighing upon my heart. And yet… No, ‘tis my full intention to live my life to the fullest. Without any regret. And I cannot imagine doing this without you.”

Too many unspoken words lingered in the heavy air surrounding them, taking both of their breaths for a moment. Words, which had always dwelled in their minds, for all this time – and yet failed to ever reach the other’s ears. And whilst their souls had silently yelled in this buried, pitch-black corner inside their very heart, their very own numbness and regret had made them so vulnerable. Those tears they both had pretended to not heavily wear; the immeasurable burden of two entire worlds resting on their shoulders which threatened to make them falter and they attempted to ignore regardless. Always staying silent, always quietly suffering in the very cage they had created – knowing this was the only path they could take.

He recognized this very gaze she showed him now – knew of its meaning. Each shade of her mint colored eyes showed the very same shadows he could see in his very own gaze inside the mirror – the souls of the lost; the fragments of what remained when they had failed. The man watched her reflection inside the mirror for so many centuries; watched her struggling, laying in her own blood and yet mourning for each one she had not been able to save.

He had done the same; slightly smiling underneath his cowl to give his posture strength whilst his fingers tightly clutched his staff over all these years. Listening to the sheer endless reports of their casualties; listening to the refugee’s horrific encounters with the menace they faced every single day.

Even now, after both of his souls had united in one body and mind, and he could glimpse on freedom for the very first time in his life – a true choice given to him – it was impossible to avert his gaze from the path he already had chosen. The dream he once had a boy had long awakened, shaping in pleas of a distant past and mocking nightmares. All of his entire being had yearned to partake in the Scion’s duty; to stand next to the comrades, these friends, he respected – yet some small part inside, deep within, had also seen it as necessity. And, from what he understood, she was so very similar. Albeit given the choice to rest so very often she never did, never hesitated. It was the trait worthy of a true hero who shaped their entire future – yet who also lead onto a very destructive path.

Oh, he knew this all too well.

The short glimpse of warmth, of happiness just to see it withering once again, turning to emotionless dust – never touching one’s own life.

Because those who fought, who did remember - the forgotten, the untold tales no one else knew besides them, had to carry their burden for all eternity.

His face expression changed, sanguine hues filling with a sea of sadness and regret. In truth he wanted to lay it all bare – wanted to speak those hidden words so many moons ago, when he was still believing in his own selfish, pathetic demise. And now, after receiving a second chance he still concealed himself in this veil of silence, ignoring his fast throbbing heart, fearing what her answer would be. An answer he would have given for so many decades as well. Yet if he continued to let his heart wither and die, failing to let his own emotions reach her, he would no longer be able to look upon those faces who sincerely wished for his happiness.

Wasn’t she one of them, in the very end…? He knew that she, among all of them, needed one plain word of affection the most. It was selfish, mayhap… Yet how harmful could it be to set himself free from the chains of his feelings for her? Emotions he had learned to well control, which he had been prepared to take with him when he embraced death itself. No, he certainly would not ponder about such things if there even was the possibility of accidentally hurting her. In truth it did not even matter to him if she returned the immortal love he felt for her – as long as he could ease her indescribable loneliness for merely a little.

“I…’Tis a selfish request, I am certain – nevertheless, I must ask one final thing of you. That you survive, no matter what. And that you will return…to my side.”

G’raha took a heavy breath, calloused fingertips finding her surprisingly thin shoulders to carefully bury themselves into her soft skin. He was scarcely taller than her, a few ilm at best perchance, but this made it solely easier to observe her fair face so very close to his own. Her rose lips already parted, likely in attempt to respond, yet he immediately cut her off, fearing if his own words got lost in hers they would never reach her.

“Every time someone calls for your aid in desperate times, I want you to remember that the very thought of losing you is frightening to me and I can ill afford losing you. This world has long entrusted all their hopes onto you, and with each day I fail to fully fathom the burden you still bear. Nevertheless, I can imagine. And I wish for you to know that before I draw my dying breath, I shall share and attempt to ease the weight you’re carrying. Lest you forget you are not alone.”

His voice had become velvety yet strong, as his resolve resonated with each word he spoke. There was so much more to say – so much more to reveal – yet opening his heart this very way after all these years was indeed quite a challenge. The emotions had long suffocated him until he had banished them, losing his own humanity with each passing day after replacing them with the numb, faceless mask of the Exarch. But no longer.

“G’raha – pray tell me, why exactly are you telling me this”, she asked in a hoarse whisper, finally seizing the opportunity to speak, worrying he might say more. The young hero had not moved ever since he had approached her, but the shades inside her eyes were ever moving, observing – and filled with the very same sadness he felt burning deep inside his soul when looking upon her.

Oh, what would he gave for her to look at him differently – not with the kind, worrying eyes of an hero but those of a loving woman.

“I love you”, he said plainly, lips curling into a soft smile, unable to hold it back any longer. “I do not regret one single moment by your side, nor my… quite selfish actions in the First. It was all for you, to protect you. And it pains me to know you all alone even now, shouldering all dreams and hopes by yourself. Whatever it takes, I will see you finding your happiness. And I… I trust you are well aware that I do not require you to accept my feelings. They are genuine, I assure you – and I cannot imagine any one being more worthy of them than you.”

The pressure of his fingertips on her shoulders grew – not to cause harm but to steady himself for the remaining words which still had to slip his tongue. He would love to indulge in the sensation of his touch for longer, usually shunning to be as close to her to not awaken those lustful desires.  

Would she allow him to come closer, even if just for a brink of a moment…? Could she already listen to his loudly throbbing heartbeat and merely bore it for his sake?

His sanguine eyes disappeared beneath his long lashes, not to hide them from her but rather to dwell in his own memories as he spoke. His chest lifted, filled with the emotions of all these moments they had shared albeit ever so briefly.

“Worry not, my inspiration – my only love. For I am eternally glad that your star has charted my course, I will never forget your kindness nor anything you have done to save my own life. So I will not ask more of you than I already have. In truth, I already received so much more than what I had dreamed of. So I beseech you, pray let me aid you in any possible way. Just say the word, my friend.”

His hands felt as heavy as the crystalline form he once possessed when he attempted to lift them from her shoulders again, intending to give her some space. Yet the faint grip of one of her hands found his own, carefully wrapping his wrist to hold it in place. His eyes flung open as he felt the unexpected touch, meeting the pair of shiny mint colored eyes filled with tears, he reckoned. The man’s lips parted in surprise as his reddish ears laid close to his head.

“Why do you speak of such things, asking for naught in return?”, she asked, her voice slightly trembling – yet in apparent anger, with her ears moving agitatedly. “Do you truly never ponder about your own well-being, not even now of all times? After learning that they all wish for the very same… Rammbroes, Krile, Lyna… All good people of the Crystarium. They all wish for you to live your own life. You have already done so much, so pray tell me why you still fail to see this…?”

He did not move nor grit it teeth as her free hand clenched a fist to tenderly beat his chest a few times. As she stopped the fingertips clutched the fabric of his new garment, leaning in her weight until she almost rested inside his arms. Yet just almost. He could feel her hot breath brushing the bare skin around his collarbones, sending an immediate shiver down his spine. His limbs were itching to move, to pull her into a full and proper embrace – nonetheless he did not dare to move, not understanding her current actions.

“‘Tis true, we are indeed so very alike, you and I. And most certainly you are just as stubborn as I am. ‘Tis why I am…glad to know you as my companion henceforth. Yet I cannot condone you to suffer in my place. Ultimately, I solely want to see you finally happy as well. I want to see your dreams lived and fulfilled”, she continued with a small sigh and he noticed, as she lifted her gaze once again to face him, that one single tear had emerged from her eyes.

“Is it truly selfish to want to feel alive for once…? After being so very selfless all the time?”

Her voice trembled with the last questions, making him ponder if they were rhetoric or not. In the very end he was not even certain of whom she spoke. His second hand, yet free from her touch, slowly lifted to meet the warm skin of her cheeks, swiping away the tear with his calloused thumb. G’raha felt her reacting to his touch, barely noticeably even, ere she leaned into the warmth he offered.

“Mayhap not”, he answered in a rather husky tone, ignoring the yearning of his own body and the loud, desperate clutch of his very own soul.

“Then you shall know… I love you too, G’raha.” Albeit her voice had scarcely been more than a whisper to his ears, suffocating in some more tear drops to flow down her cheeks, he felt their meaning with every fiber of his body. It was not before she lifted her hand to gently rub over his own cheeks that he noticed that he had shared in her sentimentality.

For he realized that the woe, the deep sadness he saw inside her mint colored shades for the past moments were not product of her kindness but rather her feelings for him. Such sight made him to finally channel the strength needed to let go. To let go of the very burden he still desperately held onto; the very past in which he had merely chased after his very own death and desperation for all these long years. For the childhood in which he had believed to be cursed, to be condemned.

One past filled with dreams and hopes to believe in a future in which others might find happiness, albeit not himself.

“So perchance, just for once, mayhap just even for this moment - can we not forget and live, breathe? The world will not end, solely for us being happy for only one day. And the others can certainly wait, too.”

“Agreed”, the man mumbled, quickly leaning in to seal her lips with his very own, lest she spoke more than she already had. Truthfully, he was no longer certain if he could bear to wait any longer. Not after waiting more than an entire lifetime for her already, to finally feel her faint touch.

Her sweet, flowery scent filled his nose, sweeping through his entire body like an untamed wave – evoking all of his usually hidden emotions for her. Lips so perfectly shaped and soft moved against his very own in an almost painful slow rhythm, ere he his tongue slightly tickled them, yearning to taste her, to memorize all of her entire being. Immediately he felt her slim arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer as she slightly parted her full lips to give him entry.

None of it was like he had imagined; it was far better than the finest dream he ever had.

________________________

[ END OF PART ONE – Part Two will contain smut! ]

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Sidenotes: I am following my headcanon that – because he is an allrounder and can fit into all roles – he is picking the most fitting role for the Warrior of Light (despite seen with his staff in the cutscenes).

In this case, since the Warrior of Light is a Summoner – which I still daresay should be the most powerful role according to the given canon information – he prefers to become her sword and shield. All of this is, of course, accordingly written to my own headcanons & portrayal and might not fit with other’s.