When Eithne thinks back, her best memories reside beside the fire.
Sometimes she sees scenes of midnight blue skies, stars as far as the eye can see, her loved ones awash in moonlight’s gentle embrace. There is weariness, but her belly is full, her hands warmed, and she feels the usual tightness in her chest giving way to something loving and grand, something too precious and sacred to reveal in plain daylight for all to see. She sees Estinien leaning against a tree, Ysayle and Alphinaud asleep beside each other, and somehow she knows that within the armor something would soften within him too.
“You should rest.” He’d say quietly, voice freed of its usual rancor, and Eithne knew his heart yet beat with kindness, beneath Nidhogg’s blood and ire.
It reminded her that, perhaps, her own heart could remain soft and warm, within Coerthas’ tundra.
Other times, the moon is encased in crystal panes, windows shut tight to keep the warmth in, night skies tinged translucent gold by the firelight. There is a knight alongside her with a warm drink in hand, their fingers brushing against each other as she accepts his kindness, her heartbeat quickening at the feeling.
“May I sit alongside you, my friend?” His voice is as warm as the hearth before her, the blue in his eyes were a promise of the tomorrows to come, the sky she could hope to see if she held fast to her beliefs.
It reminded that, perhaps, within her hope’s flame burned eternal, that not even Eorzea’s betrayal could snuff it out.
When she was close to sleep, heavy lids causing the stars to become hazy, she saw the glow of a campfire against maple leaves.
A far off memory, at times more dreamlike hallucinations than a reality long since past, of a lute being strummed gently, the tenor of a man’s voice lulling a much smaller version of herself to sleep. An Eithne from a time long gone, a time consigned to oblivion. His face is unknowable through the flickering flames, but the golden hue of the campfire was enough.
From an era long forgotten ♪
A blade of midnight drawn ♪
They had tried so hard to hang onto his voice, feeling it to be the only thing capable of filling a then yet unknown longing within their heart. And yet, their eyelids feel so heavy, the warmth enveloping them in a feeling of belonging she would chase across blizzards and light-scorched lands, to the very ends of existence.
From a battlefield awakened ♪
A warrior who bears the dawn... ♪
Each night by the fire flashes behind her eyelids in quick succession— A brash boy with a heart too big for his body, his crimson eye burning brighter than any flame she would ever see... Weary allies around a fire, seeking warmth even as the sky flared with Light’s never-ending day... Alisaie and Alphinaud’s sleeping bodies leaning against her, their quiet breathing enough to make Eithne feel as if she could fight the sun itself, if it would grant them even another moment of peaceful slumber...
Her eyes fluttering open, she’s greeted by midnight sky once more, its usual constellations nowhere to be seen, its stars new and uncharted in her mind. Tural, a new adventure, one not weighted down by impending doom, one where sleep would not need to be stolen from death’s grasp but rather gifted freely, no glinting arrows or sharpened steel awaiting in the shadows. Looking to the side, she sees Alisaie and Krile tending to the fire, their small figures haloed with golden light, their quiet smiles setting Eithne’s heart at ease.
Halcyon nights by the campfire, the only place that felt like home.