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“Stupid. Stupid, stupid, STUPID!”
Her litany of curses interspersed with impacts as one gloved fist slammed into the doorframe over and over again. Only to be interrupted by the soft clearing of a throat from behind her. W’ynter paused in her continual abuse of the aged wood to glance over her shoulder at the white-haired Scion with a scowl.
“Don’t even start. I know perfectly well why he did it, and that he’d do it again like the idiot that he is, and I don’t care that it’s because of how much he loves me, it was still stupid!”
Pushing away from the door, she resumed stalking back and forth, tail twitching in what was either irritation or distress as Y’shtola watched with the faintest hint of a smile on her lips. Knowing full well that the anger was a mask for something else as she waited another moment before speaking up herself.
“Of course it was. I was only going to say that Krile sent me to tell you that it’s alright for you to go in with him now.”
W’ynter cut off mid-rant as she glanced up at her Scion companion. Face shifting into an expression of embarrassment before the Warriour of Light sighed and nodded. Raking a hand through mussed black and crimson hair as her shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I’m just… He knows better. That energy blast would have hardly scratched me, there was no reason at all for him to get in the way of it. There was….no reason for someone else...for him to get hurt because of me…”
Voice quivering on the last sentence, she was caught off guard by comforting arms as Y’shtola pulled her into a hug. The usually reserved mage gently petting her hair as W’ynter gave in to the offered comfort and buried her face in her friend’s shoulder with a whimper. “He could have died...”
“A fact that I have little doubt he knew and accepted. As you would have, had the situation been reversed. As we all would have accepted, were any of our friends or precious ones in danger. That is the responsibility that we all accept as Scions and beyond that...it’s part of caring for someone.”
Despite the inarguable truth in her words, that didn’t make them any easier and W’ynter mumbled as much into Y’shtola’s shoulder as the white-haired woman chuckled and continued to pet her hair in a soothing manner for a moment. Eventually disengaging to give her friend a nudge towards the direction she herself had arrived from. “Go on. I’m sure he’ll want you to be there when he wakes up.”
There was no need to thank Y’shtola for the convenient out; the mage was incredibly perceptive and had to know how badly W’ynter wanted to extricate herself from the conversation and rush to G’raha’s side, so she settled for a faint smile and a nod before turning to make her way down the hallway. Pushing open the door, even the lingering anger and frustration weren’t enough to stop her heart from dropping into her feet at the sight of him lying so still and pale. She ignored the hushed murmurs of the Sharlayan chirurgeons as they attempted to tell her something - most likely an overview of his condition that right now she didn’t give a shit about - and made her way over to his bedside. Feet feeling as though her boots were lined with lead as she slowly sank to her knees and took his hand in both of her shaking ones. The faintly iron taste of blood hit her tongue as she bit her lip viciously to hold back the faint whimper that threatened to make itself known.
“Raha…. You idiot…”
The words shook and trembled as she tightened her fingers around his warm hand, dropping her forehead to press against them and only then allowing the tears the release they had been so insistent on. Muffling a soft sob as she reminded herself that the danger was past. That despite how things looked, he would be fine. That soon enough those sanguine eyes would open and look at her and she would have yet another opportunity to verbally berate him for the idiocy of his actions.
The chronometer clicked past what seemed an eternity but was in reality a span of mere minutes before W’ynter began to pull herself together. Carefully releasing one of her hands to dash the remnants of her tears away with the back of her knuckles before those same fingers reached to tenderly comb back thick crimson fringe from his forehead with a sigh.
“How many times do I have to tell you that I’ll be fine, you fool? That there’s no need for you to put yourself in danger like that? That... “ She swallowed hard to force back the tremor in her voice. “That I don’t know what I would do if I lost you…”
He was unconscious, and most likely had no idea what she was saying to him, and yet… she couldn’t help but think of something that Estinien had remarked to her once. When she had mentioned Aymeric’s stubborn vigil by his bedside as he languished in the aftermath of Nidhogg’s possession. The silver-haired dragoon had nodded, with that faint smile of his, and remarked that he credited his husband with bringing him back from the void of unconsciousness that he had been lost in. That though he hadn’t realized it until much later…he had heard Aymeric’s words.
Taking a moment to study her practically comatose partner, she shrugged inwardly to herself. It wasn’t going to hurt anything… so what was the harm in trying?
Careful not to surrender her grip on G’raha’s hand, W’ynter scooted herself closer. Scrambling up from the floor to settle herself delicately on the side of his bed where she could still reach him. Still run her fingers through his hair, tenderly caressing the side of his cheek as her other hand remained firmly locked with his. The ghost of a smile curved her lips as she gave a soft wry chuckle.
“You know… if I had known it were a choice between you courting death by freezing or death by magitek armour, I would have chosen the former. A scarf is a much easier fix than this, Raha.”
She’d given him a piece of her mind when they had arrived in Garlemald and he’d insisted on wearing his coat halfway unfastened without any sort of protection on his neck. Ridiculous not only because of the obvious reasons but because any other day he’d have had a scarf wrapped around himself. Even in the heat of Ul’dah or Thavnair…that scarf had stayed stubbornly in place. She’d watched - out of the corner of her eye - the way Alisaie had muffled a snort of amusement when she’d stalked over to her exarch and demanded to know why in the nine hells he was determined to be the death of her before firmly buttoning up the rest of his coat. And knowing all along that he understood she wasn’t really angry with him from the way he couldn’t hide the grin beneath his stammered apologies. Darling fool, trying to seem so much stronger for her. As if she needed that.
Pressing soft tender kisses to his knuckles, she gently grazed the fingers of her other hand along the edge of one furred ear as she spoke.
“You know you don’t have to do that...to prove yourself like that. You’re one of the strongest people I know, Raha. And not only because you held together an entire country for a century. But…because you have such a strong heart. That heart that…” She faltered for only a moment, hesitating before throwing caution to the wind and continuing.
“That I love so damned much. You idiot, we’re supposed to travel the world together. Share all of those adventures together, just like you always wanted. You and me, and…and the kittens. Right?” A lump rose in her throat as she felt the tears prick at her eyes again but she pushed past it. Somehow knowing that if she didn’t say this now, then she wasn’t sure when she would summon the courage to do so again. “You said you want them to look like me, but I’ll be damned if I don’t put my foot down and say that if they look like me then they’d better have your eyes. Your eyes, and your smile, and…your loving heart that is so big it makes me worry sometimes that you’ll get yourself hurt… You idiot..”
Any further words choked up in her throat and she pressed her forehead against their joined hands for a long moment as her shoulders shook and she tried to force back the emotions again. Only to freeze at the feel of warm fingers closing over her own and a soft, tired voice speaking gently to her.
“I…know. But I’m…your…idiot.”
W’ynter’s head shot up and she furiously blinked back tears as her mismatched eyes met those crimson irises and more tears threatened. He was awake…awake and giving her that same soft smile as his thumb gently stroked soft circles against the back of her hand. Battered and pale and obviously still exhausted, but he was awake and it was all that she could do to keep from flinging herself at him. Whether to squeeze the breath out of him or put him back into that sickbed…she wasn’t sure, but he derailed her train of thought with one faint shake of his head.
“I’m sorry that I worried you… I know you’re stronger than I am, and so much more capable. But that doesn’t mean that I can just stand by and allow you to shoulder so much on your own. Together…right?”
As much as she wanted to argue with him, to insist that he was still an idiot because that wasn’t what this was about, the relief at seeing him awake was stronger. “Yes…together.” Shifting their hands to lace her fingers through his for a moment, she leaned down to press a tender kiss to his lips before pressing her forehead against his with a contented sigh. “So you’d better hurry up and recover so you can marry me properly. Because we’re definitely not discussing kittens until we get that step out of the way.”
He froze at her words, pulling back just enough to study her face as if to ascertain how serious she was. If she truly meant it or was just teasing, and she could see the delighted comprehension in his eyes before he pulled her in for another kiss with a laugh. Arms wrapping around her even as she protested that he would hurt himself again.
“I feel completely better already.”