Archive of Our Own ^beta

    Yet, in his dreams, she left the honorific behind, and she was wearing far less clothing than she had the night before, and her hands were brushing over far more than just his chest, and--

    He awoke in a cold sweat.

    It had been a long time since he'd dreamed so vividly, years, maybe. It was certainly the first time he'd woken up and longed to go right back to sleep.

    It was not to be, however. Today was the day, and though he could not stray far from the Tower, there was plenty he could do to assist. Organize supply lines, give support to the worried citizens of the Crystarium, prepare for the backup plan that he knew they wouldn't need, but was necessary all the same. As he swung his legs out from over the sofa in his study that had recently become his permanent bed, unbidden thoughts swarmed through his mind.

    You absolute fool, he thought, what are you doing? You kissed the top of her head last night!

    No, I didn't, came the response. I merely pressed my face to her crown in a comforting matter, that's all.

    Gods, you can't even admit it to yourself, can you?

    The exchange filled him with self-doubt. Had old age made him a coward, or had he always been this cowardly before?

    You're still him.

    He'd been too much of a coward to tell her how he felt those years and years ago. Even when he knew he would never see her again, he still could not conquer the fears of what if she rejects me, and I spend eternity remembering that pain?

    He really was still him. He could lead a nation, sacrifice himself for a star, channel the energies of the ancients, yet he could not tell a single woman the depth of his longing for her.

    There was no use lingering on those doubts, however. He could clear his mind by attending to his duties. And so, he dressed himself and wandered up the stairs to the Ocular, hoping he hadn't risen too late to see the Warrior's party off to their fateful destination.

    He hadn't, thankfully, and after a few rounds of meaningful discussion, reiterating plans, and shared words of encouragement, the Scions and their fate-bound Warrior made for the doors of the Ocular. As she reached them, however, she paused, murmuring something to Alisaie as she passed. The other woman nodded, glanced to the Exarch, then let the doors close behind her.

    Almost immediately, his throat tightened, and his heart began to race. She most certainly wanted to speak about what happened the night before, right? Had he offended her terribly? Perhaps he shouldn't have touched her at all, no matter how awful her condition. That was most certainly the case.

    She turned towards him. The Warrior he'd seen in the meeting -- stiff and stone-faced -- was gone. In her place was... her. Her smile glowed with a warmth he could only barely remember. Her rigid features had gone soft, moving in gentle arcs as she walked towards him. There was a light in her eyes, a color to her cheeks, a spring in every step.

    The Exarch was so entranced by her sudden transformation that he barely greeted her as she came close.

    "I hope I'm not keeping you," she began, before rummaging around in one of her coat pockets. "I wanted to see you before we left. I know we don't have long."

    Even her voice had taken on color. It brought a tinge of blush to his cheeks. "'Tis quite alright. Is there aught I can do to help you?"

    She shook her head. "You did plenty for me last night. I merely wanted to thank you."

    He smiled and mirrored the gesture. "You thanked me plenty yesterday."

    "I could never thank you enough."

    She took a step towards him. Instinct told him to take a step back, but he held his ground. From her coat pocket, she produced a bundle of fabric -- the same fabric that had wrapped up the bottle of wine he'd gifted her the night before. He took it in his free hand, the momentary confusion distracting him from his pounding heart. "You didn't have to return this so soon."

    "What was I going to do with the fabric otherwise?" The Warrior gave him a shrug of her shoulders. "There's something else."

    "What is it?"

    She inhaled sharply. "Close your eyes."

    His blush deepened. "Wh-what?"

    "Just do it."

   G'raha looked up from his feet and saw the color darkening on her own cheeks. Her embarrassment only served to quicken the beating of his own heart.

    There was nothing else to do. Reluctantly, he squeezed his eyes shut. In the dark, he could feel the blood rushing to his face, making every inch of his skin tingle with anticipation. There was a rustling at his hand, something small being deposited into the bundle of fabric, then wrapped up haphazardly. Curious, he opened his eyes to see just what she was doing with it--

    --just in time for her lips to meet his forehead.

    The Warrior darted backwards, quickly attempting to cover her embarrassment by brushing the hair from her face. "I told you to close your eyes," she groused.

    His breath hitched in his throat. Had she just--

    "I-- I don't have the words right now, so don't ask for them." She averted her gaze, one hand gripping at her armored forearm. Her teeth caught her bottom lip as she fidgeted. "I just-- didn't want to leave here with regrets."

    Somehow, he managed to stammer out a coherent reply. "A-alright." She just-- did she just--

    "Right, then." The Warrior huffed, recomposing herself with a shake of her head. When she looked back at him, she was wearing that old smile again, her eyes beaming with familiar, blessed excitement. "I'm off."

    She turned to go. Each step she took from him shook him to the core, until eventually, the shock wore off, and he found the clarity to call her name.

    The Warrior turned, bright eyes gleaming toward him. All the courage in the world could not have prepared him to speak his mind in that moment.

    "Hurry back," he called instead.

    She grinned, nodded, then disappeared.

    Without warning, the Exarch's knees gave out from beneath him, and he crumpled to the floor. His hands rose to press against his burning-hot face.

    She'd kissed him.

    She'd kissed him!

    He gasped, suddenly remembering the attention she'd paid to the fabric in his hands. Quickly, he unfolded the bundle to reveal its contents -- a single wine cork. The markings gave no indication as to which bottle it had come from, and there was no note.

   For some reason, it made him laugh. A new kind of joy was buzzing within him, filling him with a giddiness he had only known once before in his long, long life.

    No regrets, indeed, he thought, clutching the cork in his fist. Perhaps I should follow in your footsteps, brave Warrior.

    How long had it been since she'd felt this heat in her chest? That flame of passion, so strong when she was discovering new lands, new dangers, new version of herself-- when had it died? How had it grown so cold when a single spark was all it had needed to burst forth once more?

    A puff of steam vanished before her as she exhaled, dashing forward with the rest of her companions to face the hulking menace head-on. A hundred sets of eyes, bulging through grotesque folds of opalescent skin, focused on her and the shadow she cast. The beast lunged forward, and she danced out of its path. As much as she had cursed the Mother Crystal's blessings before, here, she was grateful. First a violent thrust forward, then a swiped claw. A burst of fire to her left as twisted aether coalesced in the grip of its stare.

    How was it that she was able to move with such clarity and grace? Before, the mere prospect of swallowing the beast's Light had left her rigid with fear, but now, even with the beast and that horrid mass of aether staring her in the face, she felt determination. Passion. Hells, she wanted to beat the living daylights out of the thing. She couldn't wait to watch this disgusting beast fall, dissolve into Light, and give unto her the Light. It would be terrible, but oh, wouldn't it be wonderful.

    There was no doubt in her mind. She would do it. She would save them all. Not because the star needed her, not because the people would die without her, not because her accursed fate demanded it of her. She would do it for herself.

    She would do it for him.

    And in the end, it didn't matter who or what she was doing it for. The Scions had their reasons; gods, she should have known Thancred was doing it for her since the damn beginning of this journey. No one was demanding that she fight for any particular reason. She just needed to fight, that was all. Luckily for everyone else, she was very, very good at that.

    This battle would not be easily won, however. The beast was massive, towering dozens of fulms above her and her beleaguered companions. One missed cue, one stumbled step, and their lives were forfeit. Not only that, but it had stamina -- no matter how they hacked, slashed, and pummeled away at the damn thing, it didn't seem to grow any weaker. In fact, it seemed to grow stronger.

   The beast's tactics grew erratic. One deviation from the pattern, a feint, and three of the Scions went tumbling to the ground. Sweat began to trickle down the back of her neck. She’d fought tough battles before, and this was no different—or so she thought, until yet another feint struck down yet another of her companions.

    We’re so close, she thought, gasping as an unexpected swing of the beast’s tail came ilms from crushing her flat. If I can turn the tide with an attack—

    Her thought was cut short as a deafening shriek pierced her eardrums. She squeezed her eyes shut for a split second, and that was all it took. Another second later, and the Warrior, too, was sent skittering across the rocky surface of the would-be arena, skin tearing and bruising from the impact alone.

   There was no time to think about how it had happened, she had to get up, stand up, do something before all was lost. Panting, she planted her left hand on the ground to push herself upwards, but the arm folded inwards on itself, and soon, she was back on the ground, gritting her teeth through pain that she should have been damn well used to by now. She had to stand up, she had to keep fighting, but her strength was gone. Whether it was the pain or some errant effect the beast had placed on her, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was there was nothing she could do, not alone.

    The healing didn’t come. The Echo gave her no warning. Panicking, she turned her fading, teary gaze upwards to the beast, pleading a silent prayer to the being she had cursed so fervently the night before. I can’t fail. Not here, not when he’s waiting for me!

    The reawakening Lightwarden raised one terrible clawed appendage, then brought it down upon her.

    “No!”

    The Warrior barely glimpsed the flurry of movement that rushed between her and the aberration of Light. One shadow was soon joined by another, then another, and the attack was repelled. There was a flash of light, a burst of heat, and someone shouting about a crystal. As her thoughts slowed to a crawl, she barely managed to piece the situation together.

    They’re saving me.

    Someone laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, and the sweet throb of healing magicks coursed through her core. Sleep, they willed. Rest.

    She was all too eager to comply.

    Before she could crack open an eye, there was a sharp rustling by her side, and a pair of dainty hands grabbed for the one lying outside of the sheets.

    “You’ve awoken!”

    The Warrior cocked her head to the side and opened her eyes, just as Alisaie leaned in close.

    “Ah!” They gasped in unison. The smaller Elezen followed her reaction with a quiet smirk, then squeezed the Warrior’s hand. “And here I thought you would be asleep for a few bells more.”

    The Warrior offered her a weak smile and a wiggle of her fingers. “Can’t be found sleeping on the job.” She croaked. An instant later, the Scion was shoving a glass of water in her direction, which she eagerly accepted. The affections were more than welcome. How long had it been since she’d spent some quality time with Alisaie, anyway? They’d been so close in the Source. Had the darkness that had come over her driven them apart? No matter, now. She wasn’t alone, not anymore, and the fact that Alisaie was there only proved it.

    The darkness visible through the solitary window drew out another sigh from the Warrior. It hadn’t been a dream, then; she truly had been saved. “Thank you,” she murmured.

    The Elezen looked confused for a moment, before shaking her head and patting her companion’s hand. “T’was the least we could do. I’m just glad we were able to find a solution that didn’t involve your untimely sacrifice. I know of quite a few people who would be terribly inconvenienced if you were to go and disappear on us.”

    That drew a chuckle from the Warrior. “I think I have an idea.”

    There was a pointed pause. “Shall I call for them—or him?”

    The two women exchanged a knowing look. Eventually, the Warrior let out a dramatic sigh, then shook her head.

    “Not yet. I’m enjoying my time here with you.” She let out a grunt as she turned herself over to better face her companion. “Have I ever told you about how I met the Exarch?”

    “I believe you’ve mentioned it in passing, but that phrasing suggests there is far more to the story than you have let on.”

    The Warrior grinned. “Let me tell you, then."

    At the very least, he was good at being patient. His younger self was likely to have stormed into the infirmary and demanded to know the exact details of the situation, but centuries of waiting had tempered that particular facet of his personality. So he watched from afar as the party returned, injured comrades in tow, and waited quietly for the official missive to be sent his way.

   Try as he may to appear composed, he was sure he'd given away the overwhelming relief that had washed over him upon hearing that she was quite alright. Better than alright, actually; thanks to a last-minute improvisation, the Light she dreaded so powerfully had been stored in another non-sentient vessel. Imagining the relief she must have felt upon realizing she had escaped that fate only put him even more at ease. Of all the souls across all the stars, she was most deserving of a reprieve from duty.

    It was only when he received word that she'd awoken that he made his way through the Crystarium towards the hospital, pausing only briefly here or there to reassure the concerned citizenry. It seemed he was not the only one who'd taken quite a liking to the Warrior.

    He pursed his lips at that thought. It was more than that for him, and while he'd made the decision to act upon those desires, he was still unsure exactly how to do so. She must feel the same way, right? Else, she wouldn't have done that. But of course, there was always the chance he was wrong, and blowing things completely out of proportion, and setting himself up for failure, and--

    The Exarch shook his head, hoping the motion alone would clear the color from his cheeks. Members of the Scions would be there with her. Now was not the time to be thinking of those regrets she'd mentioned before. With a sigh, he cleared his mind, then pushed open the door to the infirmary.    

    Immediately, he was greeted with a burst of laughter, one that only faded slightly as the room's occupants became aware of his presence. A half-dozen pairs of eyes followed one after another--Alisaie, Urianger, Y'shtola-- and the nurse on duty, a young Mystel woman whose name he could not quite place. Finally, the lone patient turned her attention to him. The gentle smile on her face widened into a grin, her eyes opening with excitement, then narrowing with joy. Though she had not swallowed any of the Light, she beamed more radiantly than the all-present sun.

    His heart leapt into his throat, and his vision blurred for but a moment.

    How long has it been since I have seen her smile like that?

    "Exarch!" The Warrior chimed, waving from the bed, though she was no more than ten fulms away. "I was wondering when you could come to visit."

    G'raha shook off his initial reaction and replaced it with a more subdued and appropriate smile. "I did not want to intrude upon your rest."

    "You wouldn't have been the first." She joked, shooting a knowing look at Alisaie, who chuckled in return. "'Tis good to see you, anyroad."

    "I could say the same. It has been quite some while since I have seen you at such ease."

    "It seems she just needed to be knocked around a bit," Y'shtola quipped from the far wall. G'raha couldn't tell if her attitude was merely caused by his presence, or if it was a facet of her personality. "I know a few aetherometers that require the same amount of abuse to be returned to form and function."

    The Warrior turned her look toward the Mystel--Miqo'te. "You'd better not be getting any strange ideas. I think I've had enough of being knocked about for a long time."

    For some reason, the friendly exchange made the Exarch feel awkward. Perhaps he was intruding upon an important moment. There would be time to talk later. So, with a quiet sigh, he took a small step back towards the door and awaited a pause in the conversation.

    "Oh!" The Warrior gasped, her head snapping in his direction. "My apologies, I didn't mean to ignore you!"

    "'Tis quite alright," he smiled, shaking his head. "We can discuss things at length later, when you have fully healed."

    "Or we could discuss things later this evening?" She suggested. "I believe you owe me a nightly chat?"

    Every pair of eyes in the room suddenly narrowed in on the Exarch. He gulped. One pair in particular, the Mystel nurse, was especially hostile. Luckily, he read that message loud and clear.

    "I believe the medical staff would box my ears if I attempted to release you from their care prematurely," he chuckled.

    "Tomorrow evening, then?" The Warrior glanced back towards the nurse, who responded with a hesitant nod. It was then that she seemed to notice the suspicious glances on the rest of the Scion's faces-- and the blush and embarrassment on the Exarch's. She snorted, then began chuckling quietly. The rest of the small crowd soon joined her. Seemed she was enjoying making a fool out of him.

    Strangely, though, he found he didn't mind. After all, if that was all it took to bring that smile to her lips, he would gladly welcome a bit of fleeting embarrassment.    

    Sure, she'd spouted off that nonsense about having "no regrets", and was certainly feeling far more courageous than she had before their nightly talks, but that niggling anxiety was still too strong to shake completely. It made her laugh, really. Of all the enemies and disasters she had survived, this encounter was the one that made her fear for her life.

    No turning back now, though. Whether she was ready or not, it was going to happen. She'd sealed her fate with that kiss.

    The guard at the door greeted her with a salute, then leaned for the handle. "Resuming your nightly discussions, milady?"

    She grinned at the tall Elven man and nodded, giving the bottle of wine in the crook of her arm a shrug. "'Tis time for a celebration of sorts."

    "You are well-deserving of one, if all I have heard is true." The man chuckled, pulling open one large door.

    Nodding, the Warrior stepped forward as if to pass through, then paused. She turned back to the guard with a sheepish smile and asked, "Wish me luck?"

    He gave her a quizzical look. A moment later, he gasped out an "oh!" and offered a smile and a "good luck, milady."

    "Thank you." With that, she strode into the Ocular and let the Elf shut the door behind her. The exchange had bolstered her resolve, if only a little -- that, and it ensured that if she did not follow through, there would be plenty of false rumors for her to answer to the following day. The thought didn't bother her as much as it amused her. How would he react to them, especially after what she was planning on doing this evening?

    She followed the usual path through the winding passageways of the Tower, and soon, she had arrived at her fateful destination. She knocked on the door without a second thought.

    It opened almost immediately. He must have been waiting. A wide grin came to her lips before he was even in sight, and luckily, his expression matched.

    She lifted the bottle of wine with one hand. "A promise is a promise, yes?"

    He made a sweeping gesture and stepped back with the door. "I have never known you to break one before."

    With a quiet snicker, she made her way inside, paying little attention to the rearranged stacks of books and neatly-dusted surfaces. "I trust you have glasses?"

    G'raha was far ahead of her, as he was already bringing them to the side table by the sofa. "Your trust is well-placed."

    "I would hope so." The Warrior opened her mouth to pull the cork out with her teeth, but paused when he brandished a corkscrew at her. She accepted it with a sigh and uncorked the bottle like a civilized being. Soon, the glasses were full, and after gently clinking hers to his, she slumped down onto the sofa and downed half of it in one go.

    "I hope you realize I don't intend for this to be a competition," he laughed, taking a seat a modest distance from her. "And I certainly wouldn't want to have to carry you back to the Pendants."

    The Warrior leaned back and smirked. "I could always sleep here on the sofa again."

    "And interrupt my studies with your snoring?" When she raised an eyebrow, he continued, "I jest. I have not heard you snore in centuries."

    "Perhaps you'll soon have the opportunity." With that, she closed her eyes and downed the rest of her wine -- or tried to; she only got about a quarter down before she was forced to pull the glass from her lips. Liquid courage could only get her so far, and it would all be for naught if she were too intoxicated to carry out her plan.

    "A fate I would not wish upon my greatest enemies," he laughed, finally taking a drink from his own glass.

    His companion set her wine to the side and stretched her arms upwards, a crafty ploy that allowed her to rest her arms across the back of the sofa. She could do this. All she needed to do was stop bantering and start getting serious.

    That wasn't about to happen so suddenly, however. "You weren't there. Perhaps that is how I felled the slumbering Lightwarden."

    "Or perhaps that is why it injured you so gravely. A desperate attempt to rid itself of your sonorous assault." G'raha laughed, leaning back and setting his barely-touched glass to the side table. "To think your slumber could be used as a weapon-- you are truly formidable."

    "Oh, I would say one of us is much more experienced in the art of slumber." She chuckled. 

    "Of that, I am guilty." He took a deep breath, then let it out with a sigh. "All joking aside, I am glad you have returned safely, and no worse for wear."

    The Warrior found herself blushing as he quickly turned the conversation in a more serious discussion. That was what she was trying to do, Twelve damn him! She tore her eyes from him and chuckled sheepishly. "A-as am I," she sputtered. Calm. She took a breath and continued. "To tell the truth, it was no easy task. I was lucky my companions were there to shield me when I fell."

    "Lucky indeed." His smile softened. "I regret that I could not be there to aid them and protect you."

    She sat forward, shaking her head. "You shouldn't. Your place is here, watching after the people of the Crystarium. I would never have asked you to venture so far from the Tower, just on the off chance your weakened abilities might have been of some use."

    He pursed his lips. "This I know, but-- I do long to be of more service to you."

    "You've done plenty, G'raha."

    His cheeks darkened, which brought even more color to hers. "You are kind to say that, but I owe you a great debt. Had you perished in circumstances I could have prevented, then I would be filled with regr--" He swallowed. "Regrets."

    The word pulled forth the memory of what she'd said and done to him in the Ocular. The embarrassment forced an awkward chuckle out of her, but G'raha seemed more inclined to silence. In fact, he had almost completely turned away from her, apparently in an attempt to hide the growing blush on his face.

    This was it. This was the moment she was waiting for.

    Inhaling sharply, the Warrior leaned towards him, sliding her arm from the back of the sofa to grasp at his rigid shoulder. "G'raha, I--"

    The Miqo'te man spun back towards her, too fast for her to pull away. In a split second, his face was mere inches from hers, bright red and sporting a flustered expression. He gasped and shrunk backwards.

   She did not. Her resolve was stalwart, and it would not allow her to pull away. Unfortunately, the sudden proximity had sent her heart racing, and the words she'd practiced over and over in her mind were inexplicably gone. She gulped and clenched her jaw. As she breathed, she took in his scent, warm and soft and full of memories, and the growing urge within her soon became too much to bear.

    "Is-- is aught--"

    "Can I kiss you?"

    The words came faster than she was able to stop them.

    His jaw fell open. "Wh-what?"

    Panic flooded her veins. Without a second thought, she squeezed her eyes shut, then kissed him anyway.

    He let out a muffled grunt of surprise as she pressed his lips firmly to his. A moment later, he was pulling--no, falling away, sliding down the back of the sofa to lie face-up on the plush cushions. The Warrior seized the moment to follow after him, straddling his heaving chest with her arms. Her pelvis shifted to rest against his half-angled hip. She could feel the heat of him through the fabric. Below, G'raha's mouth worked wordlessly, panic apparent in his expression, color flooding his cheeks, eyes focused on hers.

    A lock of her hair slipped from her ear, brushing against his flesh-and-blood cheek. He shivered and squeezed his eyes shut, breaking the spell. Suddenly, she was too aware of exactly what she was doing. Her resolve wavered. With a sharp gasp, she pulled backwards--

    --only for his hand to grasp her shoulder, stopping her entirely.

    He swallowed, pursing his lips. His eyes narrowed with unsure determination.

    Gods be good, she thought, I was right.

    The Warrior leaned in, slowly, testing the waters. When he tilted his chin upwards, she discarded her hesitation and closed the gap between their lips.

    She shut her eyes, savoring the sensations she had imagined for countless nights. He inhaled slowly, his other hand rising to mirror the other, smoothing over her arms, then her shoulders, the nape of her neck, then her jaw and cheeks. She parted her lips slightly, and he followed immediately, matching her gentle motions with perfect rhythm. Her fingers slid over his chest to cup his cheeks, then tangle in the roots of his hair, her short nails just barely teasing at the base of his ears. He let out the slightest shiver at the sensation, which drew a quiet, satisfied purr from her throat.

    Fearing what she may do if she allowed it to continue much further, the Warrior pried herself from his mouth with a gentle sigh. Her eyes fluttered open. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but she surely hadn't been expecting him to cry.

    "A-are you alright?" She stammered.

    He nodded vigorously, pulling a hand from her shoulder to frantically wipe the tears from his cheeks. Chuckling quietly, she lifted her head to press a kiss to his forehead, then slid downwards to rest upon his chest. Even through the many-layered robe, she could feel his heart pounding.

    G'raha sniffled quietly, then set his crystalline hand atop her head. It took a moment, but soon, his fingers were gently stroking her hair. As his pulse began to slow and his tension ebbed, the Warrior finally began to feel her anxiety turn to well-deserved elation. This was really happening. It was almost enough to make her cry, too.

    "...how long?"

    When he finally spoke, it was with a whisper.

    "Hmm?" She answered, lips brushing against his chest.

    "How long-- have you..."

    She exhaled a chuckle. "If I told you, you might cry again." Her hands slid downwards to wrap around his waist. "...not as long as you, I'm afraid."

    The Seeker shifted beneath her as she moved, pulling her into a tighter embrace. She felt him take a shuddering breath as another quiet sob wracked his form.

    "It was for you." He murmured. "It-- was for everyone, but it was all for you."

    "I know." A moment later, she added, "I would have done the same for you."

    When she felt him bite back another sob, she raised her head to meet his gaze. His eyes were shut, and his teeth were biting down into his lip in an apparent attempt to keep himself from unraveling completely. Heartbreaking, yes, but oh, so damn adorable.

    The Warrior shuffled upwards to press another kiss to his forehead. He sniffled, then let his hands drift lower, his fingers brushing against the small of her back. "You know," she chuckled quietly, "if I'd known you would react like this, perhaps I should have confessed to you more publicly."

    G'raha inhaled sharply, tilting his head back to meet her gaze with an frantic, tear-stained expression. "Y-you wouldn't!"

    His reaction turned her chuckle into laughter. In the midst of it, he reached for her cheeks with both hands and brought her lips to his. This time, the kiss was far less chaste, his indignation apparent in the force of his movements and the beckoning of his tongue. She deepened it further, and he soon fell submissive to her own passions. When the quietest moan thrummed in his throat, she forced herself to pull backwards, though she kept her lips on his as she spoke.

    "Careful," she murmured. "If you intend to start something, then I may find myself unable to stop."

    He closed his eyes, jaw clenched shut. Beneath her, she felt him tremble. "Perhaps you shouldn't." He whispered against her lips. "Perhaps-- perhaps we should."

    The implication brought a wicked grin to her features. "You know, I had intended this evening to be a reward for my efforts." His fingers twitched against her neck. Gods, he was eager. "What would you offer me, then?"

    He exhaled. Hesitantly, he whispered, "Speak and it is yours."

    The Warrior grinned, then spoke his name against his lips.

    As she resumed their kiss, and her hands drifted lower, all traces of the dark emotions that had once plagued her began to fade and disappear. There was no need for them now. No matter what her cursed fate had in store for her, she would endure it for this. For him. As long as he was here, waiting for her, she could topple any foe. She could save them all.

    There was no doubt in her mind.