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“I believe I owe you all an apology, and you most especially," the Exarch said, unable to meet Ariadne's eyes. Unable, indeed, to look at any of the Scions at all.
Instead, he looked away and waited for his rightfully earned condemnation. After what he had put them through, put her through, twas only what he deserved.
It never came. Instead she said, gentle as dusk, “Tis good to see you awake, G’raha Tia.”
His eyes snapped open to see her smiling at him just as gently, and something swelled within his chest. Twas a flood of joy so strong that he could not contain it, and hot tears began to spill down his face.
“Well…" he said, laughing thickly, "Tis good to be awake.”
He began to wipe away his tears, taking a steadying breath to calm himself. So preoccupied was he that he did not see her approach. Twas only when Ariadne drew him into an embrace, sending his heart skittering to a stop, that he realized she had moved at all.
The Exarch stood frozen, his breath going still in his lungs. He was suddenly reminded of a long distant memory. The last moments before he had closed the tower. She had marched towards him with so much fire he had thought she meant to drag him out by his collar, but she had instead only pulled him into a hug.
She had spoken to him, then, and though he could remember how her voice had trembled, what had she said…
“You noble fool,” Ariadne said in the here and now, not some distant memory, “I'm so glad you're alright.”
The words were filled with fondness, her touch equally so, and the Exarch knew not what to say or do but to return the embrace. Twas slowly and clumsily returned, to be sure, but he did manage it. Managed to breathe again, too, his heart starting up an unsteady rhythm.
Twas warm there in her arms. Warm and comforting and safe. He found it difficult to imagine that any ill could befall him with her so close. And, though he ached from head to foot, and she stank of blood and sweat, he would have happily remained there forever. Indeed, he would have liked nothing less.
Even as the thought crossed his mind, however, she withdrew. Not far, only the smallest of steps as she settled her hands on his shoulders. She smiled still, though it did not quite reach her eyes. She was studying him. He knew not what she looked for, only that he wished to do anything but meet that discerning gaze when it was so very close to him.
"So glad," Ariadne repeated. "Despite your best efforts, villain."
"Wha—" The Exarch began, hurriedly looking back at her only to to see her hand as she reached out and placed her palm on his forehead, pushing him away.
It was decidedly not painful, but he could still do naught but step back until he was out of her arm's reach. When he could at last see again, she stood before him with her hands on her hips, her gentle smile having turned steely.
“Isn't that what you wanted to be? A villain stealing off into the night with ill-gotten power? Such nonsense, I can scarcely—” She closed her mouth abruptly, her chin jerking up so she might stare down her nose at him. Her foot tapped against the ground in a rapid tattoo, and her tail came into view as she flicked it in utter irritation.
Not fury, irritation. After everything he had done, it seemed the only ill feeling she had for him was that. He knew not what to make of it.
Ariadne sighed and stopped tapping her foot. “Tis too good a day to ruin by arguing, but someday… soon… we will have a reckoning, G’raha.”
He was unsure if she was trying to be ominous. He only knew that the warmth in her eyes was ill-concealed.
“I… look forward to it?” he said before he might stop himself.
At once her brows drew together, her chin tilting down now so she might glare up at him. “Enough from you, I think. Wait here. You're so fond of telling me you're an old man. Let me find your walking stick.”
With that, she brushed past him, well and truly vexed at this point. The Exarch watched her go, his mouth opening slightly in a rather confused smile.
Just then, a large hand fell upon his shoulder and gave it a comforting, but firm, squeeze. The Exarch started and turned to look.
Thancred's weary, grinning face greeted him. "She says that, but tis probably best we help her. Eh, Exarch—or should it be G'raha?"
The Exarch swallowed, unsure for a moment. Twas odd indeed to hear that name again, and for it to be repeated as well…
"Ah, uhm… Whichever you prefer," he said, his ears flicking back in a sudden bout of nerves.
"G'raha, then," Thancred said immediately. "Come on, the sooner we move, the sooner we get back. There's a special kind of joy in getting to tell everyone that the day is saved, I've found."
The Exarch's eyes widened, his ears pricking even as he went very still.
The day… was saved. The First was saved. So caught up was he in his deceptions and wrongdoing that for a moment he had not realized this truth.
Behind Thancred stood the other Scions, bruised and battered but most definitely alive. None among their number looked at him with the hostility he deserved. Indeed, they mostly appeared tired and relieved.
In that moment, something that had been loosened by Ariadne's embrace suddenly fell away from him at long last. The Exarch took a breath, and twas the sweetest thing he had ever tasted, as if he had spent the last hundred years gasping for air and had finally been allowed relief.
Twas over at long, long last. He would be able to see this tale to its epilogue. He would be able to return to his people in the Crystarium. This would be an end to mark a new beginning, and he knew not what would happen next.
Terrifying, in some ways, but… "Twill be an honor to be a part of it," he said to Thancred.
In reply, Thancred gave the Exarch's shoulder a final squeeze before striding by. The other Scions followed, nodding to him as they passed, or in the case of Ryne, gently patting him on the arm.
He watched them go, heroes every one of them, and for a moment yet, he hesitated.
Then Ariadne beckoned him from some distance away, holding up his staff triumphantly. "G'raha, come on!"
His feet moved before he might second guess himself, each step coming lighter than the last as he strode forward into a beautifully uncertain future.