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It isn’t until the first night back in the Crystarium after Emet-Selch’s defeat that they have a chance to talk about it. About each other, what’s been happening between them, all the words they’ve left unsaid.
Severen followed Soha to her chambers in the Pendants, the both of them knowing there were yet more words to speak than the few they did in the Tempest, and yet more for what happened in Amaurot.
They spend hours talking. Soha finally allows herself to let everything out, all the pent up love, and fear, and hope, and sorrow of the past four or so years, and Sev loosening her mask, allowing Soha in for the first time since the Dragonsong War. Neither of them intend to allow the night to escape them, but how could it not? With every word shared, every emotion pulled into the light, time escapes them, and it isn't until the dawn breaks over the horizon of lakeland, the orange glow of sunrise seeping through the cracked window that they realize that neither of them have slept at all that night. The two of them look on the moment in silence, enjoying the other’s company as the warmth of the sun takes hold of the room.
And yet, despite the exhaustion in her shoulders and the heaviness in her eyes, all Soha can think, for the first time in a long while, is how much she wants to stay in the moment. Sev, ever the pragmatic one, finally speaks up once more. “I had not realized how much time had escaped us.” She disentangles her arm from Soha, though not without hesitation, as her hand drags along Soha’s forearm. “It would be wise to get some rest…”
“Stay with me.” Soha says, sitting back further in her bed. “There is enough room for us both, and we could both use the sleep anyway.”
Sev freezes for a moment, her head turning slightly, but not looking at Soha herself, and Soha realizes that she isn’t using her aethersight- she likely doesn’t have the energy for it. Wordlessly, Sev places her hand on the bed, anchoring herself before attempting to pull herself back onto it. Soha grabs her other hand with a delicate touch, not forcing, but guiding, as Sev eases into her side.
“See? More than enough room.” Soha says, a smirk creeping onto her face and a hint of pride in her voice. Sev says nothing but a small hum, wrapping an arm around Soha’s waist, and Soha’s smirk morphs into a small, genuine smile. Such blatant affection is rare from Severen Arulaq, and Soha knows well enough to cherish a moment like this.
“A thought has occurred to me.” Sev speaks up once more. “I have travelled with you for nigh on five years, through thick and thin. We have faced gods together. And yet, I do not know what you look like.”
Soha cocks her head slightly, almost involuntarily. “I’ve told you how I look before, as have many others.”
“You have.” Sev acknowledges. “But it is one thing to be told, and another to ‘see’ it for myself.”
Before Soha has an opportunity to ask what she means, Sev places a hand on Soha’s cheek, her fingers studying the shape and contours of her face, feeling her lips, her nose, her horns, her hair. The other hand comes up too, as Sev places herself on Soha’s lap, her fingers gently tracing the shape of her cheeks, her chin, feeling her scales, learning her features, and Soha inhales sharply, unable to let a breath escape.
“You’re beautiful.” Severen concludes, easing back into her own position.
“Really?” Soha asks, almost jokingly. “Between my unwashed hair, the bags under my eyes, and the still healing wounds I rather doubt I cut my typical gorgeous appearance.”
Sev shakes her head, bringing her hand to Soha’s cheek once more. “I disagree. You are weathered from the last few days' events, certainly. But it is all you. Not just your hair, or your face, or your eyes, but the way you carry yourself. Your countenance, even now, exhausted as we both are. I cannot find any other word to describe it but beautiful.”
“What, no words? Have I stunned the mouthiest woman I know into silence?” Sev breaks into a small smile, almost imperceptibly.
Soha finally huffs out a laugh. “Well, us Warriors of Light have always been known to do the impossible.”
“Mm.” Sev’s reply is curt, as the two women lean upon each other once more. “May we have many more opportunities to do so from here.”