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She awoke in a tangle of bedsheets. Looking around dazed and struggling to catch her breath, it felt as though there was a great weight on her chest. Where was she? Which world was this? In the doorway, illuminated by a candle and dressed in a nightgown, stood Urianger. His hair was a sleep tangled mess and he wore no shoes. He had clearly come here straight from his own bed.
"Thy cried out, I came at all pace to thee." was his offered explanation.
She once again looked around the room. It was her room in the Rising Stones, her weapon was propped close to her bed, her clothes were haphazardly folded on a chair. Out the large window to her left the sky in Mor Dhona was an inky blue, the sun would be rising soon.
"Full glad am I to see that thou are unharmed." Urianger said.
She motioned for him to come into the room, and he did. He placed the candle on a nearby desk and picked his way carefully across the room to her.
"May I?" He said, gesturing to the edge of the bed. She nodded and he sat carefully. One hand on his knee, the other laid flat on the bed sheets.
"What troubleth thee?" He asked gently.
She took a steadying breath and then carefully began to explain her dream. Though memory unbidden was a more accurate description. She told him of the closing days of the Dragonsong War, the lies that had come to light and shaken Ishgard to its core. She told him of the events at the Vault, how the pain in her chest was never diminished, even in her happiest moments. How sometimes she would forget for a brief time, and then the pain would be even greater. The guilt she would feel for forgetting, if even for a moment, unbearable. When she finally became silent after talking for what seemed like an age, she looked up into Urianger's pale yellow eyes. They looked sad and for a moment she wished she had not told him, had not shared the pain with him. The burden was hers; it weighs as it should. Very slowly and very carefully, he placed a hand on her shoulder, his thumb grazing her neck. The hand was warm and the weight comforting. Holding her to the bed, stopping her from being swept away by grief.
When he spoke, his voice was thick and low.
"I heard what happened during thy time in Ishgard, thou hast lost someone dear to thee." He rubbed his hand very gently on her shoulder, to comfort. He then continued,
"When I lost mine Moenbryda, I sought comfort in knowing that she had given her life for us, for me… but little succour did I find in such thoughts. And in so mourning, did I begin to grow embittered. My anger was a tempest. For the longest time, I did wonder if her sacrifice was for naught, languishing in sorrow." He stopped and considered his next words carefully before continuing,
"In my weakest moments, I wished that it had been another, I wished that thou had died in her stead."
He looked at her then, guilt clear on his face at the revelation.
"I cannot offer thee words of comfort; I cannot tell thee that thy pain will diminish. Mayhap it is not meant to. We must find comfort in those who still yet live."
Slowly, she realised that this grief was not something she alone knew. Though she mourned another, by sharing this pain with Urianger, she had in turn allowed him to share some of his heartache with her.
Hot tears pricked her eyes, glistening at first and then spilling over. She quickly moved to wipe them away. He raised both arms to her sides and encircled her in an embrace, one hand then coming up to the back of her head, pressing her to his chest. She let him.
They stayed like that for several moments, then she pulled back, tears still making her eyes shine in the dim candlelight. She carefully lifted the bed covers and looked at him. Stay with me, her face said.
"Art thou sure?" He asked and she nodded in return.
He stood to snuff the candle he had brought and then climbed into the bed, his long frame folding neatly beside her. Her hand sought his and she moved close to him, pressing her forehead to his shoulder. Her free arm moving around his waist. Her body was warm against his, a body that held the many scars of war; soft and gentle to hold.
He murmured softly above her, gentle and soothing words. He pressed a kiss to her hairline. They slept then, like that, comforted in each other's embrace until morning.