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The dream came on slowly; it always did. Born of memories and phantoms, creeping steadily into the mists of W’ynter’s subconscious like the slow creep of ice glazing across a windowpane. An insidious seed planted deep within her mind, growing tendrils of darkness through the bright scenes etched into her memory. Norvorandt again, back in that world so alike and yet so different from her own, that place of rampant light and shadowed secrets.
She had nearly died there, more than once.
But while most people would find their nightmares plagued by those same close calls, such things are depressingly commonplace for the Warriour of Light. Death is a frequent partner in her dance through life; forever darting in to pull her close before she is spun away into the fray as the music shifts yet again.
One day, it won’t let go so readily.
But those thoughts aren’t the ones that seep into the coloured panes of her memories tonight. Tonight...she dreams of drowning. Not in water, as most anyone else would assume, but in light. Thick and viscous, alive and aglow with an oppressive burning heat. She chokes on it, coughing and retching and feeling it claw at the very aether of her being like a great hungry beast. Swallowing her up, overtaking her and dragging her down into an abyss of brilliance. Sharp pain lanced through her knees as they slammed into the ground and she caught herself on one hand. Still purging tangible Light from her very soul as her blurring vision focused on the hooded figure approaching her.
Him… G’raha.
She’d suspected, hoped….prayed that the mysterious Exarch would prove to be the crimson-eyed man she still pined for. That somehow in some twists of this thing called Fate...for once she could keep something precious to her. And Fate had seen fit to smile upon her for a change. Until the ringing crack of gunfire cut through the pain and roaring in her head and she watched his blurry shape stagger….and fall. His name catching on her lips and lodging in her throat as she tried to propel herself towards him.
“G’RAHA!”
The panicked cry of his name was more than enough to rouse the former Crystal Exarch from his sleep and he jolted upright, rolling to scoop W’ynter’s shaking form into his arms and hold her tightly against his chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d woken to her nightmares; the frequency with which they tormented her was a source of trouble to him. One hand slid up to gently comb through tangled black and red hair as he pressed soft and gentle kisses to the top of her head in an attempt to soothe.
“Shh.... it’s alright… I’m here…”
She seemed so small as she curled into his warmth, slim fingers clenching into the thin fabric of his shirt as she buried her face against his chest and sobbed. So much more a normal girl than the powerful champion of Eorzea that everyone else saw. That she was, but so many people seemed to forget that underneath all of that...she was just a girl. A girl with a mammoth destiny, with far too much on her shoulders and far too much pride and determination to let anyone else see how scared she often was.
He’d been one of those many at first. Awed by her presence, her legacy and her reputation. Infatuated by the rose-tinted image he had of her. And then....infatuation had faded as he grew to know her, and in it’s place something stronger and more enduring had sprouted. As her wild sobbing showed no sign of abating, G’raha slipped his other arm beneath her knees and carefully scooped her into his lap. Rocking her softly as he began to gently croon a lullaby into one of her ears as though she were a child in need of comfort as he kept up the gentle rubbing of her back in time with the hypnotic tune.
Though it seemed to take forever, the logical portion of G’raha’s mind knew that it was likely closer to 10 or 15 minutes before her wild sobbing began to slow and turn to hiccuping gasps as she unconsciously began to breathe in time with the soft melody and relax against him. Feeling some of the tension bleed from his own shoulders, he shifted her slightly and raised his free hand to tenderly brush lank bangs from her face with a soft smile.
“There you are…”
The love of his life caught her lower lip between her teeth as a flush bloomed across her tear-stained face and she cast her gaze down at her lap. Embarrassed to show ‘weakness’, as always, regardless of how many times he had reassured her that there was nothing weak about being haunted. He met her shame with a smile, tilting her chin up to brush the tip of his nose against hers. “None of that, now… We all have our demons, and none of us is strong enough to battle them all alone. Champion of Eorzea or not.” Leaning in a scant inch or two further, he caught her lips in a featherlight kiss before pressing their foreheads together.
“I don’t suppose I need to ask what it was about...do I?”
Her silence was answer enough and he felt a pang of guilt that his own actions - however well-intentioned - had been the cause of her distress. His stubborn desire to play the martyr; to try and live up to the standard that he had created through his adoration and admiration of her...had nearly cost her life. It had been so difficult, watching as she absorbed the Light over and over...knowing that he was deceiving her and bringing her soul to the very brink of Oblivion. Yet he had comforted himself in knowing that ultimately he would ease that burden. Offer his own life in payment and return her to where she belonged.
Though he had forgotten to take her stubbornness into account
And though that same mule-headed tendency of hers had brought them this far...it had left scars on her as so much else had. Her continuing silence was evidence enough that tonight was not going to be a ‘pour out all of your fears and troubles’ kind of night, and that was fine with him. When she was ready, she would talk to him and he would do his best to reassure her that he was here. That they were both here. Safe. Together.
Shifting his position again, he scooted back down under the blankets with her still cuddled against his chest as he tucked her head beneath his chin and began once more to croon the soft lullaby. Silently letting her know that it was alright if she didn’t talk about it.... That he would wait as long as she needed.
“Sleep… I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”