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Akira
Akira ran a hand along one horn, a reminder that this was indeed her body and not another corpse she’d been shoved unceremoniously into. A moment to blow away the cobwebs, Y’shtola had said. She didn’t feel like she had cobwebs in her body. She felt like Zenos had left a layer of filth on every wall. Akira felt sick to think about what may have happened if she’d arrived even a few moments later than she did.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a few moments in private,” she wrung her hands uncomfortably. She oh so rarely asked for even just a moment to breathe between each disaster that seemed to nip at her heels, that asking for some privacy felt selfish, but her friends’ faces were a mixture of pity and understanding.
“I’m sure we can spare a few minutes,” G’raha said softly. “Take the time you need.” She felt like she’d need a century to feel normal again, but Akira just nodded and walked away to where she’d pitched her own tent.
She’d spent precious little time within the canvas walls, finding them wholly inadequate for the harsh Garlean clime, even with the little portable Ishgardian stove set in one corner. She mumbled a quick spell to start a fire within the stove’s belly and placed a kettle that she had filled with water just earlier that day on top, waiting for it to warm.
Akira desperately needed to wash. More than once, if she were going to be honest with herself. But there was no time to teleport to her Shirogane apartment, as much as she yearned for the heat of the hot tub she’d had installed. It took up most of the space, but it was lovely after a long trip to soak in the waters. She would have to do the best she could with a shallow basin and water heated in her kettle. Maybe washing her hands and face would at least get her composed enough to get through Babil.
The kettle began a quiet hissing sound, not quite boiling, but that was warm enough. She took it from the fire and poured it into the shallow basin she had set upon a small table. She waited a few agonizing moments while the water cooled just enough to be comfortable on her skin. Akira caught her own eye in a tiny mirror she’d hung precariously from one of the tent poles and jumped, expecting the sneer that was so unlike her to return, that she had only imagined she’d returned to her body, that really she’d met her end on that battlefield in the dead body of a Garlean soldier…
She backed away from the mirror and turned to the water, adding just a few soaps and oils and breathing in the steam, trying to calm her fried nerves. Her hands dunked below the water and, setting her jaw, Akira began to scrub.
G’raha
It had been a while since Akira had stepped away. Almost everyone was deep in discussion about how to approach the Tower of Babil, but G’raha stared out into the snow flecked darkness as evening fell, worrying about the woman that took up far too much of his attention. Far too much, yet he’d have it no other way. He was barely aware of the anxious flicking of his tail or how his ears remained swiveled firmly towards her tent, waiting for the rustle that said she’d reemerged.
She needed time to herself. Gods knew she did after what she’d been through, but it took considerable effort to keep himself rooted to the spot and not go check on her. He felt a hand on his shoulder and started, having been so focused on listening for her that he’d not heard Thancred’s approach.
“I think you should go check on her,” the gunbreaker voiced G’raha’s own thoughts. “As someone uniquely positioned to understand what she just went through, she probably really needs some support.”
“But she so rarely takes time for herself,” G’raha mused, but his restraint was already crumbling now that another person was encouraging his own ideas.
“Exactly, and it’s been more than a bell since she stepped away,” Thancred cast a worried glance toward the lone tent set up just a little away from Camp Broken Glass, that Akira always complained was too cold but she refused to move any closer.
“Alright. I’ll go check,” G’raha relented, and Thancred gave a nod, returning to the rest of the group. Trusting G’raha to handle it, he realized. He took a breath before heading to her tent. He could hear what sounded like scrubbing from within and hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her if she wasn’t decent.
“Akira?” he called, waiting for her response. After several moments of just silence other than the scrubbing, he pushed into the tent.
Akira stood over a small washbasin, scrubbing and scrubbing at the skin and scales on her hands. The skin was red and raw, and some scales looked like they’d pulled up just slightly from the force of her scratching at them. Her face looked like it had been damp, but not dried, the remnants of the water freezing into a light frost over the skin and hanging from her lashes. He didn’t need to see more. He rushed to her side and pulled her gently away from the water that he could see had turned freezing cold, tiny ice crystals floating through it. He sat on the small cot that she’d set up but likely never used to sleep, pulling her into his lap and holding her close, casting a few minor spells to warm her skin and heal the abrasions on her scales.
“Shhh, it’s okay, you’re here with us,” he murmured quietly, and realized in the absence of her panicked cleaning that she’d begun sobbing into his chest.
“I can’t get it out,” she whispered frantically. “It’s like he stained everything.” G’raha pulled her tighter to him, resting his head on hers and twining his tail around her scaled one. He reached up with one hand and gently wiped the tears from her face, and her hands shot out and clung to his wrist as if she was afraid he might disappear at any moment.
“Nothing he could ever do could stain what makes you so wonderful,” he assured, adjusting his hand to hold hers, brushing his thumb over the scales scattered across the back. He heard a quiet, choked sound and felt her nuzzle into him more closely.
“I don’t feel like myself,” she admitted. “I feel like I’m going to blink and be back in that horrible dead soldier and you’ll all be dead.” G’raha hummed thoughtfully to himself for a moment, then gently lifted her head enough to brush his lips across her horn. Akira swallowed hard, shivering at the feeling.
“I… Raha, there are people waiting for us,” she gave a weak protest, but didn’t push away, and it was clear her heart wasn’t in it. His ruby gaze captured her amethyst one, and she didn’t look away.
“If you don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he breathed. “But if your only concern is that people are waiting, you’ve done enough for everyone in this camp many times over. They can wait.” Her eyes flitted across his face as she thought for just a moment, then pressed her lips to his, eyes fluttering shut.
He was right. They could wait.
Akira
By the time the two reemerged from the tent, Akira was feeling much, much better. She didn’t know if she’d ever fully move past this, but for now, she could bear being seen by her friends. She could look in the mirror and not see the wolf in sheep’s clothing about to strike them down. She clung to G’raha’s hand, his fluffy tail wrapped around hers, protecting it from the chill wind blowing through the camp. She ran one hand over her hair, making sure it lay flat against her head.
The Scions paused their discussion, and she felt her breath huff out in the relief at seeing everyone unharmed, especially the twins. She pulled her coat closer around her with her free hand; Akira didn’t think she’d ever adjust to the cold of Garlemald.
“Oh good, you’re feeling better then?” Alisaie smiled warmly, and Akira gave a nod.
“Yes, as Y’shtola said, knocked down the cobwebs and everything’s fine,” she said, absently giving G’raha’s hand a brief squeeze. She heard a quiet snort and turned toward the sound.
“I’m sure you did,” Thancred teased, he and Y’shtola wearing matching knowing smirks. Akira felt her face warm, and a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye told her G’raha’s ears had flicked uncomfortably.
“Well, now that you’re here,” Alphinaud forged on, oblivious to the heckling taking place just a few paces away. “We can get to business.” Lucia approached at that, spotting that Akira had returned. As the group started discussing, she felt her heart warm in the cold. She smiled softly and rested her head on G’raha’s shoulder contentedly, and, after a moment of surprise at the public display of affection, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Hydaelyn, let me be able to protect them.