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Janai went into the tent that had been set up for her. It had clearly been hastily constructed, and a far cry from the one at Lux Aurea. But it had a bed, and right now that was all she needed.
History repeats. Isn’t that what they say? Here she was in another camp of refugees from a city Aaravos destroyed.
Normally, the anger inside her would burn brighter than the sun. She expected that she would curse Aaravos for the rest of her life. But not now. Not when it was all over. Not when she just… couldn’t.
Someone else entered the tent, and Janai turned. “How are you?”
“Tired.” Amaya signed.
Janai smiled. “Me too.”
Suddenly, Amaya was hugging her, and Janai was hugging her back, and they were dropping to their knees.
For now, this was all that mattered. For now, this was all that existed. Janai, here, in her wife’s arms.
Wife. Janai hadn’t even had the time to let it sink in. She almost laughed. Instead, she cried.
She kept crying, because that’s what you do when the fight is over. Amaya held her, and kissed her, and Janai sobbed.
When she was out of tears, she blinked, wiped her eyes, and looked up at Amaya. She had tears in her eyes too.
Janai held Amaya’s face, wiped away the tears, leaned forward and kissed her. Together they stood, and moved to the bed.
They collapsed together. Their movements were slow as they pulled the last few pieces of armour off each other, and pulled the cover over themselves.
Janai and Amaya lay there, curled up with each other, as their eyelids fell shut, their breathing slowed, and they dropped off to sleep.