Alisaie had at some point rushed away, leaving the two of them alone by the shore. The sounds of trees rustling in the portwinds, the scent of brine, the gentle sunset illuminating the shore and all of those upon it in a golden glow... For the first time since he set foot on the continent, G’raha Tia felt the peace he had so often fantasized about, back in the stuffy rooms of the Annex, and were he to close his eyes, he would struggle to believe he was still on the same star. However, his gaze was fixated on the woman next to him. Eithne, lounging on the sand, sun-kissed and resplendent with the sun’s light, seemed so different from the month or so since they had last seen each other.
“You seem to have taken quite a liking to Tuliyollal.” he speaks, all too eager to break the silence. “You’re...” radiant, he almost says, before composing himself.
“Well, you look different, is all. I-In a good way...”
She laughs, always as light as a wind chime. He couldn’t help but notice the way her white hair catched the sunlight, each strand like polished silver, the water droplets refracting light like crowning jewels, remnants of their earlier water splashing antics. She sits up, head tilted to the side, eyelashes fluttering, and G’raha Tia has the distinct feeling that her appearance is not all that’s changed.
“How so?”
“H-How...? W-Well, it's not any one p-particular thing...” She lets him stammer for a few moments before closing the distance between them, her twinkling laughter saving him from further embarrassment.
“Tuliyollal surprised me, I don’t believe I’ve gotten so much sunlight since my youth, though even then...” G’raha Tia looks out onto the horizon as she speaks, praying for the sunset to disguise his reddened cheeks. “Thancred says it's good for me to get a little sun for once, though I think he ought to take his own advice.”
He manages to chuckle, relaxing his shoulders somewhat, “I can’t say I remember much about Corvos now, but Tuliyollal’s heat gives me a sense of nostalgia... I’d like to imagine my summers there felt somewhat similar to this.”
Leaning back, he closes his eyes, feeling the breeze rustling his hair, the warm sand against his hands. His body felt so light, after shedding his usual garments for more appropriate beach wear. “It would be nice to visit sometime...” he exhales, his ears relaxing in contentment.
Eyes closed, he feels a now familiar touch on his hand, Eithne’s rough-yet-gentle fingers spreading, entangling themselves with his. It was not uncommon for them at this point, but G’raha’s heart never failed to accelerate. How many times had they stolen a glance at each other, her hand brushing against his as they walked, her leaning closer and closer to him as they talked? He would not dare to press the question, not after all he had learned of her, and so he could only wait for her advances, accepting them with open arms.
“It would be, I’d like to see it.” Her voice comes to him as a whisper, and his ears flicker with the realization that she’s much closer than she had been moments ago. He can feel his brow furrowing, the muscles in his arms tensing as the scent of warm sunlight and dried saltwater drifted ever closer to him.
“G’raha.” she calls to him, her voice quiet yet firm, and he feels as if he’s forgotten how to breathe. His answer is immediate, though she'd yet to ask him anything, his head moving to face the direction of her voice, his eyes opening only to be greeted by the sharp gold of her own, inches away. “May I?”
Time seems to stop. The sounds of the shore, the birdsong, the wind, all ceasing instantaneously, the roar of the blood rushing to his face deafening him. His lips part, but no voice escapes him, though it's not because he would dream of denying her. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t give to her, much less were she to ask for it. Quite the opposite, it was all he could do to restrain himself, lest the longing lead him to do something foolish, lest he scare her away with the intensity of what burned within his chest. Instead, he takes in a sharp breath, managing to nod weakly.
Could he see this moment in hindsight, he would understand how suddenly it truly happened, but in the moment it would feel like an eternity, as he endeavored to etch every sensation into his very soul. The way she gently tilted his chin upwards, the feeling of fine sand against his cheek, the awkward way in which she brushed her lips against his, before becoming more malleable, fitting together perfectly— like palms intertwined in solemn devotion, an earnest wish for everlasting happiness.
Inexperienced as he was, he thought to stay still, yet as soon he felt her lips pulling away he could not help but chase after. There was no thought behind it, though perhaps there should have been, delicate as their situation felt to him. Regardless, he held the hand on his cheek in place, his other palm reaching for the nape of her neck, combing through damp locks, looking to hold her in place.
He felt a pang in his consciousness, one borne of his years of admiration, the years of self-imposed asceticism, wherein he had devoted his all to the memory of her. Her kiss was sacred, a boon without compare, and yet here he was, allowing her to fall prey to his base desires, his fervour making him no better than any other man, someone unworthy of her. As if feeling the strain, the trepidation, he feels her free hand coming to rest on his other cheek, her tender touch as she cupped his face an answer to his unspoken fears. As long as she consented, he’d forgive himself this small act of selfishness. Then, as soon as it happened, it was over, and he opened his eyes to find Eithne smiling down on him, her hands still on his cheeks. Breathless, heart pounding, he must have looked like nothing more than a boy again, and he certainly felt like one too, his limbs too awkward, his yearning too powerful. Still, he paid it no mind, for in that moment there were no thoughts, no creeping anxieties that could darken the stunning sunset.
“E-Eithne, I—” Letting out a shaky breath, he tries to find the words, something, anything, to convey how much this meant to him. As the weight of their exchange became evident, time slowly began to move again. The sound of waves lapping against the shore, the cries of birds out in the distance, all returning to the soundscape. They remained quiet, his words yet unspoken, as her hand moved to brush his wind-tousled hair out of his face.
Slowly, quietly, she trails the contours of his face, her thumb slowly following the shape of his cheekbone, his jaw, his lips, leaving trails of fire in their wake.
“I’m sorry, I-I... I have never done this before.” Her words an arrow, aiming at the cracks of his composure, his heart ready to burst, “I hope it wasn’t... unpleasant...”
Although he knew better than anyone how guileless and direct Eithne could be, her words seemed almost calculated to strike exactly at his weakness. Her timid smile, the warmth of her hands, the uncharacteristic meekness of her words— The damn breaks, and G’raha Tia quickly forces himself up onto his knees to come up to eye level with her, promptly cradling both her hands in his.
“Eithne, ‘twould that I could impart on you even an onze of the joy that you have gifted me.” Despite the levin coursing in his veins, he wills his voice to be steady, as he always finds himself to do in these critical moments. A blessing, certainly, for these are words he would regret ‘ere they were left unsaid. “Your love is a treasure, and your touch brings me nothing but bliss.”
He sees her shoulders tensing, and as close as they are, she cannot hide the rouge spreading across her face. It is a strange feeling, to feel a twinge in his heart when it is so filled to the brim. So endearing and lovely she was, he felt his voice begin to tremble, yet he dared not let the moment go to waste, mustering what bravery he needed to press on.
“Did we not promise an adventure unlike any we’ve experienced before?” He speaks slowly, hoping to imbue his words with the weight of his conviction. “What grander journey could I have wished for than this?”
Her smile was dazzling, bright enough to make the gorgeous sunset behind them pale in comparison. He felt as if he were witnessing true dawn for the first time, back in Norvrandt, the joy of the moment making all of his hardships feel worthwhile. It felt triumphant, a cornerstone moment in their journey, one he could (and certainly would) wax poetry about for the rest of his days; his most cherished memory. It was all the answer he needed, and the relief he felt at the sight of it came out tumbling as an earnest laugh, rumbling deep within his chest.
“You,” he sighed, “are so lovely.”
“You two!”
As if caught in something illicit, G’raha flinches, his ears flat against his head, his hands about to pull away before Eithne catches them. She holds him in place gently, her thumbs running across his knuckles in quiet comfort.
Alisae jogs over to them, in her hands a brown paper bag that smelled delectably of spiced meat, her eyes roaming over the pair before settling on their entwined hands. A few ways behind her stood Alphinaud, his hand outstretched as if to stop her, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. Their eyes meet, and G’raha can see him mouth an I’m sorry, before the young lord rubs his forehead in unmistakable frustration. Despite having confessed to Krile of his current, er, quagmire, he had not imagined that the other Scions would have taken it upon themselves to aid him. All he can do is flash him a reassuring smile, before Alisaie demanded their attention once more.
“Urianger and Alphinaud brought some of those tacos that Lamaty'i recommended.” Evidently, she decided to brush past their predicament, continuing with her original plan. “Care to join us?”
Eithne nodded, as G’raha Tia helped her up to her feet. Satisfied, Alisaie doesn’t wait for the two of them before walking back towards the group still lounging under the palm trees.
Wait, the group... The group lounging under the palm trees... All this time....
As if shocked by the God of Levin himself, he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand, his tail beginning to twitch so wildly that it ends up flicking against the back of Eithne’s legs.
“A-Ah, s-sorry, I...”
Unconcerned, she smiles again at him, before offering him her outstretched hand, waiting. It is not hesitation that makes him pause, but he is simply breathless at the sight. Enveloped in that brilliant sunset, a smile the likes of which he had only prayed she could find gracing her lips, it was enough to make his heart swell with emotion. A marvel he had only dreamed of, and to be on the receiving end of it makes the scene feel like a dream. A spectacle the likes of which he would have decried in the past, a desire so dark and secret that he had never allowed himself to linger on it for more than a moment.
Twisted machinations of a lonely man, he would scold himself, to think we could still feel such arrogance after knowing all that she is, and all we are not. To feel her loving touch as a full person, free of the crystal overtaking his body, numbing his senses, were dreams he locked away deep in the recesses of his mind, even once he returned to the Source.
Shaking his head, he clears away the unnecessary thoughts, the anxiety attempting to worm its way in. Eithne’s feelings were true, and so were his.
In the end, it was that simple.
Finding his courage, he reaches out, entwining their fingers.