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She would never fully get used to the feeling of traveling by Aetheryte. The tingling upon her skin and metallic bitterness the aether left upon her tongue were oddities to the senses alone, but the disorientation that followed her body blinking from existence on one world to suddenly appear in another was another matter entirely. Yet her footsteps had led her here, and Verah knew not what had inspired them.
Standing under the awning atop the steps overlooking the Crystarium's empty courtyard, raindrops fell steady and soft in the dead of night upon the finished stone floors, pelting glass rooftops nearby. Verah groaned, ears flattened against her head as she suppressed the dull ache in her breast that was often a prelude to memories unwanted, and turned her face to the sky.
The moon of the reborn night hung shrouded behind a veil of charcoal velvet. The glowing teal and gold Ocular doors perched proudly atop a small hill of steps on the other side stood out in the darkness, reflected upon the glossy wet courtyard stone. It was calmingly quiet, save the rhythmic hiss of rainfall upon glass and stone. Only the occasional murmur of conversation between guards in the distance disturbed it.
With a breath of finality, Verah perched a hand upon her hat to keep it in place before braving the rains. Her squeal as she dashed through the thick of it echoed, piercing the quiet of the night as she found herself quickly assaulted with cool droplets in rapid succession, her clothing saturated long before she climbed the many steps and finally stood before one of the guards on duty in front of the Ocular.
The guard that greeted her vision was a young Hyur man, likely only to have seen twenty summers by Verah's estimation. His tousled damp blond hair and shadowed eyes were evidence of a long night on guard duty, but upon her arrival before him he quickly startled alert as his eyes gleamed with instant recognition.
"Looking to enter the Ocular, are you, my lady?" He asked. Frowning, his eyes skimmed over her wet clothing before he hurriedly continued, "The Exarch isn't in at the moment, but I expect he will be back within the hour. It is warm inside the Ocular, miss, but I fear I would never hear the end of it should I leave you as you are."
Verah opened her mouth to quell his concerns, but the guard quickly shook his head.
"I will see you inside to the Exarch's Chambers and send for one of the laundresses." He insisted firmly, turning on his heel toward the Ocular doors.
Bemused by his earnest concern and firm hand for one so obviously young,Verah opted to follow him through the tall Ocular doors without retort.
The heavy clank of armored boots echoed off shimmering crystal walls and polished floors as Verah felt more than heard the water droplets roll off her clothing and skin onto the floor as she passed. The guard guided her to a door Verah recognized as the Exarch's personal chamber.
"Please wait here, miss, and one of the laundresses will be by in a few minutes."
Verah met the man's eyes and sighed, "Very well. I shall wait here."
He smiled with what seemed to be relief before disappearing behind the chamber doors he closed behind him, leaving Verah standing alone in silence within the Exarch's quarters.
The room was furnished meagerly, but every inch of color radiated a unique warmth Verah had only felt from the Exarch. Tomes with tattered spines lay stacked unevenly amidst scattered parchment upon a time-worn desk. An equally worn wooden desk chair stood with it's seat facing away. The walls beside it were lined with bookshelves stocked with volumes varying in size and language, many Verah expectedly did not find familiar. Yet others, she found surprisingly, she did know and could even read. Yet no windows donned the walls, no curtains, nor paintings. The walls were barren save a few hanging plants lush, green, and thriving. In a distant corner tucked against the far wall was a bed as white as a snow drift, sheets pristine and crisp from lack of use. Across from the bed was a door of dark wood closed to the rest of the room.
The guard had spoken true, the laundress had come within mere minutes as promised. A bubbly, exuberant young Elezen girl all leg and ears behind Jade curls, honey gold eyes, a broad smile, and endless questions. She helped Verah change from her wet clothing and, much to Verah's protest, a soft white cotton chemise. All the while engrossed in retelling much of the recent Crystarium gossip. And just as quickly as she had come, she had gathered up Verah's things, and left with a giggle and a wink.
Verah sighed loudly, turning her attention to the desk she had spied earlier. Her hands ran languidly over faded leather bindings. Her fingers traced the indents of gold lettering stamped upon one heavy, old book that sat atop the stack, the leather soft and delicate to the touch.
The gentlest of smiles graced her lips as she lifted the book from it's pile, her tail swaying with excitement as her hand pressed against the delicate faded cover.
It had felt like an age had passed since she had come to the First. She could scarce believe a fortnight had not even passed in either world since she first set foot here, distrusting the Exarch as she once had. How he had practically pleaded for her to trust him, even if for just that moment! Now here she was, damp from head to tail in a cotton chemise, paging through the tomes in his personal study.
Paper rustled as she thumbed through the book, page after page words scrawled across the paper appeared and disappeared in a symphony of artistic lines and symbols in black ink that she could not understand. The new paper smell was strangely at odds with the musty old and battered leather cover, the lettering faded and tatty.
The scent of musty leather and dusty pages awakened memories unbidden, long tucked away in the deepest recesses of her heart. Echoes of a love that once was, sharing her happiness, dreams, and wishes with him with the intent of spending forever together, memories of his smiling face as his eyes glistened with the twinkle of laughter that once she loved. Now they mocked her, reminding her of what had been and now was forever lost. A time of mind-jarring blood and rain. A younger miqo'te woman heartbroken and alone, sobbing as she wandered aimlessly through the Twelveswood with her deceased lover's bloody pendant clutched within her fist.
A book, that was all it had taken for the tears to burst Verah's dam of restraint. She clutched the thick tome to her chest, trembling, as her mind fought against the current of memory. Yet even as tears slowly trickled down pale cheeks, it was in that moment Verah realized she no longer knew how she felt. She was numb, yet her heart ached. A different ache that wasn't simply the dulled pain of loss. In wishing to be free of him- of his memory, her mind reached for another like a drowning man to a life raft.
A memory of a soul that lured her to him. His mesmerizing sanguine eyes had locked themselves in her mind, leaving room for little else.
The memory of his soothing gentle voice she found herself craving, of the warmth he radiated that she coveted, it was like a stopper upon an overflowing Champaign geiser. Her heart ached like a bruise, but no longer did the pain flow. In its place was a familiar warmth in her breast.
When he smiled at her, she felt as if the whole world was her's. When their eyes exchanged looks it felt as if everything had paused and belonged eternally there in that moment.
Verah gasped, a hand flying to the constricted feeling of her heartbeat in her chest. She gaped, wide-eyed, as she stared unseeing at a spot in the distance upon the wall. She knew what had brought her here, what had led her feet to carry her back to the Crystarium.
These feelings go beyond mere admiration, she realized with a shaky intake of breath.
The leather-bound book slipped from her fingers. It landed with a dull, unsatisfying heavy thump upon the hardwood floor, masking the click of an unlatching door.
"I… I love him," she confessed with a giddy laugh, "I don't know how or when, but I've fallen in love with G'raha Tia."
Suddenly a thud louder than the first followed her words, belatedly alerting Verah to another presence in the room. Verah cried out and spun around, finding herself staring into the Scarlet eyes she adored, staring back widened with shock and confusion.
Silence hung in the cavernous room.
Horror and fear wreathed Verah's delicate features as she felt her heart sink into the pit of her stomach like a stone.
"Oh, gods," she whispered, the words coming out as a prayer.
She hurriedly tore her eyes from his and sank to the floor.
G'raha rushed forward, stepping over the toppled basket of delectables, and dropped to one knee.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, reaching for the book now lying indignantly on it's spine. "Oh, gods," she repeated, hands trembling as she rescued the book.
"It is fine," he reassured her gently, a tone not unlike the one she heard him use when speaking to distraught new recruits for the guard.
"It is not," she insisted with a shake of her head, silver-white hair swaying, "I should never have… " her words were strangled into silence by a fearful sob.
G'raha paused, brows puzzling with a frown before his hands gently liberated the book she cleaved to so desperately. Then he stood, placing it neatly upon the stack awaiting him on his desk and made to stand before her again. Verah looked up at him, a question bubbling to the surface as he reached down and took her hands, pulling her to her feet.
No words passed between them, even as Verah noticed his gaze slid down her form to notice the plain white mid-thigh length chemise. He quickly turned his head away, ears folded down, to hide his colored cheeks.
Without hesitation he began to remove the red cloth from his robe. Verah watched him with confusion until an extended hand offered it to her.
"Put this on," he instructed softly, ears still pressed flat as his eyes concentrated on a spot on the floor.
Verah gingerly accepted the cloth and G'raha turned his back to leave.
"Where are you going?" She asked before she could stop herself.
His head cocked to the side, eyes shifting from the floor to meet her's. She felt her heartbeat stutter and quicken, her breath coming out unevenly as she broke eye contact with a muttered "just wondering," before her heart failed her.
"I shall be awaiting you outside the Ocular." His voice was soft and held the hint of a smile, sending a warm glow throughout her body.
Gathering up the overturned basket and it's spilled contents, he made for the door and gently closed it behind him.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
When Verah reemerged from the Exarch's study, something different in her peripheral vision made her pause and turn.
There, sitting nestled beside the door waiting to be of use was the basket, reorganized neatly with paper-wrapped food. She smiled fondly despite herself, recalling the gift of sandwiches she had once found waiting in her room. It was a sweet memory, one she cherished, but one she feared could also become painful. The consequence of her words being overheard loomed over her like a headsman's axe ready to fall. She winced at the thought and turned away, leaving the basket to its place beside the door.
The Ocular doors barely made a sound when they opened, but it was enough to signal her arrival to G'raha who had pulled the cowl up to conceal himself from prying eyes.
He had turned to face her, yet when their eyes met, he hesitated. There at the door she stood, and in the darkness beneath his cowl she found eyes consuming her with wonder, his mouth fallen agape.
"Exarch?" Verah called out in a small voice, feeling the heat of her cheeks.
G'raha blinked with surprise, smiling sheepishly as he offered her his arm yet of flesh. Verah slipped her hands through the crook of it, pulling him firmly against her chest, and he slowly led her away from the Ocular.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Verah watched her feet take steps across the glossy tiles, bare feet falling into stride beside intricate leather sandals.
Their stroll had lasted much of the night. G'raha's hushed tones as he spoke with thinly veiled excitement about the Allag and the tower were strangely melodic and calming to Verah's ears. He paused briefly now and then to allow Verah time to digest his words and ask any questions bubbling to the surface, and she asked them. Of course she asked them. Not for any curiosity to be sated regarding the Allag or the Crystal Tower, but to keep him talking so she might listen only a while longer.
But with the first blush of dawn kissing the Eastern horizon sky, G'raha had led her to the tower she knew to be his favorite spot within the Crystarium, one that had also quickly become her own.
The stairs swept ever upward as G'raha guided Verah carefully up, mindful of vulnerable bare feet upon wood and casted iron. She let a hand fall upon the black iron rail, rough in its rustic charm, and let it guide her to the very top of the tower.
There, G'raha unbound himself from her touch as the sun rose like a canopy of gold, bright amid the pastel blues of early morning, bidding the stars to take their rest.
Against the morning sun his back was gently silhouetted, strolling toward the light his figure was proud and fluid, all broad shoulders and strong limbs. Squinting against the light, Verah could only guess at his thoughts and emotions.
"You confessed your feelings, as accidental as it was," he said resoluted, shattering the silence between them, "it is only fair I answer with a confession of my own."
Verah thought her heart might burst as she waited on baited breath. G'raha looked over his shoulder, and hesitated.
"I'm in love with you." He said finally.
Her breathing hitched as her heart stuttered. He loved her? Truly? Verah could not contain the joy that found its way to her smile.
He turned to her, "I do not deny these feelings that cleave to my heart, and they have only grown in the short span of time since I had summoned you."
In the gentle light of morning he smiled apologetically, a smile that made Verah's heart ache and her smile wane.
"I am not the G'raha Tia of your time. Nor are you the Warrior of Light of mine. It is to her these feelings belong," he continued, "and the G'raha Tia of your time no doubt finds himself incapable of dreaming little else beyond a life at your side. As I did so long ago. Who am I to take you from him to replace the woman I lost?"
Verah felt her heart thud painfully in her chest, her eyes burning with unshed tears as she closed the gap between them in her frustration, cupping his face in her hands.
Surprise colored his features as her thumb gently glided over the Crystal upon his cheek, his wide eyes meeting her determined ones.
In such a close distance, her eyes fell to his lips. The urge to kiss him was like an overwhelming miasma that dulled all other thoughts, save one. Verah clung to her frustration like an anchor as she steeled herself against her impulses, forcing her eyes to meet his once more.
"I do not deny the G'raha Tia of my time had awoken these feelings like a candle's flame in the cold dark," she began earnestly, "but it is the man before me who grew that flame into a raging inferno. Perhaps one day I will care for him in the same capacity I love you, but today is not that day."
She paused, searching his face. She could see his resolve waning. Or perhaps it was a trick of the light?
"It was the man before me who dared to plant himself between me and a rampaging Light Warden. You who crossed time and space to save the Source, and prevented me from burying more friends." She continued, forehead resting against his, "Or they from burying me. You allowed me moments of weakness when the world expected strength. You are the night sky I have longed to see when my world was shrouded in light."
The staff he had held in one hand fell to the floor with a loud and echoing clatter, ignored by the Crystal Exarch as his hand cupped the back of her head to plunge her lips against his own. And the world fell away to that single moment where all that mattered was the feel of his lips against her own. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways words would never be. Yet a hunger gnawed just beneath the surface of his touch. His hand slid to rest over her jawline, his thumb caressing her cheek as their breath mingled.
"I am being selfish," he whispered in self-deprecation against her lips.
She ran her fingers down his spine, pulling him closer until no space remained between them and she could feel the rapid beating of his heart against her chest.
She met his eyes with amusement, "We risk life and limb to restore a world and bring happiness to others, but the love between two souls is selfish. Is it selfish to seek a small measure of happiness after all we have been through? Truly?"
He breathed a laugh, eyes alight with humor as he smiled to himself. His lips soon found their way against her's once more. Hungrier this time, more eager than before.
He pushed against her forcefully until her back collided with a wooden beam, his hand drifting to her hip unexpectedly. It settled there and, bringing one of her legs to hitch upon his hip, he pressed himself firmly against her. His breathing quickened, as did her's. He began nuzzling her neck with delicate kisses so faint, they were whispers. Her limp body trembled uncontrollably with anticipation. Then his lips slammed against her's again, an eager kiss full of need and desire that nearly knocked the wind out of her lungs.
His tongue pressed to the seam of her lips and, at her grant of entry, delved inside her mouth. It was a very passionate kiss with his scent of Earth and dusty pages exchanged in the intermingling of their breaths. Her arms draped around his neck as she arched into his broad chest, moaning at the contact of body heat against her own.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, G'raha pulled away at the sudden sound of civilians rising to greet the day. It would not be long before they were discovered. Yet both stood there, staring at one another as they huffed breathily, cheeks flushed. G'raha looked conflicted as he stared, deep in thought, before finally relenting to retrieve his dropped staff.
It was Verah who dared to speak first, "G'raha, does this mean- "
"I am yours," he interrupted with a smile as he faced her, "so long as you will have me."
Verah could not contain the happiness she felt, smiling despite herself as she adjusted the cloth draped over her chemise, fallen askew from their brief entanglement.
"However," he growled huskily as he sauntered toward her. His hot breath upon her ear, he whispered, "if I am ever to make love to you as I had wanted to just now, it will be in the privacy of my chambers."
This confession left a blossoming heat to flourish in her core as she felt her heart stutter, mouth fallen open. She looked up at G'raha from beneath long lashes, her cheeks darkening in hue. He only smiled back at her innocently, offering a hand.
"Let us get you out of sight, before the wrong sort of rumors begin to spread. I do not want Alisaie or Y'shtola to question my intentions with you."
Verah took his offered hand, their fingers intertwined, and as they left the observation tower G'raha felt as if the gods had blessed him with a second chance while Verah felt truly happy for the first time in years.