Chapter Text
One of them took an unsteady step toward him, curls catching on the rising wind. A slow grin spread over her face. Dark eyes fastened on to him as the sun cleared the last of the mist from Sirauk Bridge.
And Arin finally allowed himself to fall.
“Welcome home, Suraira.”
Essiya came into view, her divine face filling up Arin’s vision. “Arin of Nizahl, enough with the theatrics, will you?” she taunted, a wide smile plastered on her face. He could hardly believe his tear-filled eyes. Was he dreaming? No, not even his subconscious could be this beautifully cruel.
With shaky hands and glistening eyes, she reached out to him, her knuckles grazing his cheekbone as she wiped away the lone tear. Her fingers tangled in his coal-black hair, and Arin closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the feeling of her touch on his scalp. She’s real. She’s here, he thought, still in disbelief.
Raking her hands through his hair, she smirked. “Oh this is new. Did you colour it for me?” She twirled a strand around her fingers. “You know I was perfectly fine with your silver hair, even if it resembled an old hag or—“ He crashed her to his chest, holding her close, inhaling her sweet scent and breathing for the first time in a decade. They stayed like that for what felt like another century, not that it mattered. Forever could have passed and it would not have mattered.
Tilting her chin up from his chest, she met his gaze again and smiled. “Hello.”
The world halted. Trees stopped swaying. Crickets when to sleep. He beamed. In that moment, they were the only two people left on earth. He could spend a millennium just staring at her. Just breathing in her existence.
Arin grabbed her hand, breaking the trance, and whisked her off the bridge. He didn’t want to risk anything. He feared that if she disappeared again, he wouldn’t have the strength to carry on.
As they walked towards Usr Jasad, towards the promise of a new future, he caved. “What took you so long, Suraira?” He wanted to know everything—every moment, every step she took, everything he missed out on while she was gone. But of course, as maddening as she was, she cracked a joke instead. “Well, I just wanted to torture you a little. I could’ve returned whenever I pleased but it seemed appropriate to make you wait, considering
you…ripped my heart in two.” Arin frowned at the last bit, visibly taken aback and she immediately regretted it, her wicked smile faltering.
Pausing, Essiya tried to rectify the situation, “I meant that—“
Laughter burst through Arin, his head tilted up to the sky, as giddy amusement spread through him. It was a feeling he never thought he’d experience again. She gasped at his crude humour, punching him in the chest but failing as he caught her wrists, eyes shining with adoration.
“My demented Suraira, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He confessed, pulling her flush against his chest and bringing his lips down to hers. “If that were truly the case, we both know you’d come running back to me as soon as you could.” He mumbled against her lips, hiding a smile.
“Shut up, Arin.” She grumbled, curling her arms around his neck. Essiya returned his kiss with as much fervour, as much ferocity as he had always granted her. A tear slid down her cheek. Nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming warmth and comfort she felt being back in his arms. She was safe. She was Home.
Wanting her closer, Arin lifted her onto his hips as she wrapped her legs around him. He carried her towards a fig tree, caging her gently against the trunk, and devoured her like a man starved. He needed privacy for the affection he wished to shower her with. He wanted to make up for all those years he ached for her, for all those years they’ve lost.
Gathering her beautiful chaotic curls to the side, he began trailing kisses down her throat, one for each hasana, all 12 of them scattered below her chin—proof that it’s truly her. That this wasn't some well-crafted sick illusion. Essiya. Sylvia. The Malika of Jasad. His future wife. His demented Suraira. All of her, all the parts that make her, her. His entire fucking world is in his arms again.
It’s not like he needed any more confirmation, considering the greeting he received could only be conjured by the queen herself. But when fate seemed to find great pleasure in taking everyone he loves away, leaving him with nothing but emptiness, he couldn’t help but doubt.
Essiya sighed clawing her nails so deep into the back of his neck it almost bled.
There she is. He thought smiling against her skin.
If he could bottle up all her sounds and play them over and over again, her sighs, her laughs, her screams, he would. Kissing up her jaw, he brought his mouth to her ear and whispered. “Thank you for coming home to me, Suraira.”