When Ardbert first realizes that he can touch you, he comes up with little reasons and excuses to do it as much as he can. Brushing against your arm as he walks by, a friendly pat upon the shoulder, slinging his arm around you as he laughs at some stupid joke youâd told him. The truth is, to his chagrin, he finds he cannot get enough. It has been so painfully long since he had felt anything that the texture of your skin and your clothes becomes addictive. He begins forgoing his gauntlets, leaving his hands and arms bare so that he might marvel at the warmth he feels every time his ethereal flesh meets yours.
He prays you donât notice, but he can hardly be covert when every gesture is accompanied by touch. The realization that he has been found out comes when you start giving him small smiles each timeâknowing and kind. It embarrasses him at first, but he is grateful at the least that you seem not to mind the casual touch. So he persists, keeping up the facade as best he can, pretending for his own sake that you donât know exactly what heâs up to.
Eventually, he finds himself aching for you in your many absences, when you are among your friends where he cannot speak to you. He watches from afar, concealed and longing for the moment you might return to your room in the Crystarium. As always, he races ahead of you, that he can be there waiting for the opening of those doors.
The journey, slowly but surely, takes its toll on you. He sees this and offers what solace he can without taking from you more than you can give him. Itâs hard not to be greedy, Ardbert finds, and terribly easy to fall into bad habits. He struggles to remain vigilant, to support you as he can.
Then, one day, you open the doors and hug him. He freezes in place, overwhelmed by how warm you are. How soft, how gentle even as you cling to him, face buried against his shoulder as small sobs wrack your body. It stuns him, and it takes him entirely too long to reactâto wrap his arms around you and hold you while you stammer out precious few words that he can barely understand.
What he surmises is that finally you have reached your breaking point, and with so much left to do, it was all you could manage to make your way back hereâto Ardbertâwithout losing yourself where your friends could see. You apologize profusely, but he hushes you each time, his heart aching for you as it always does despite you being wonderfully present. Everything you say to him, choked up and half-formed, are things he has thought himself, long ago when his own journey had been at the forefront of his world.
This weight is a terrible burden, he tells you, rubbing your back as he speaks, his voice low and gentle. No one should ask so much of a single person. It isnât right, but it must be done. Someone has to be the savior. Someone has to undo my mistakes. And I am so, so sorry that it has to be you. But you are not alone. You are never alone. Take solace in that, even if it hurts.
You quiet as he speaks, and when he falls silent, the only sound in the room is your steady breathing. He can feel it on his neck, almost dizzy as he is from the prolonged contact. Eventually, you must pull away. You must carry on, despite the hurt. But for just a moment longer, Ardbert wants to put it off. To keep you here, in his arms, where the two of you can forget all about Warriors of Light and Warriors of Darknessâwhere you can be two ordinary people, taking comfort in each othersâ presence.
But you will carry onâyou will shoulder that mantle and that pain and you will walk forward toward a better tomorrow. A tomorrow that you may not even see, just as he had done over a hundred years before. Just as he had tried to do again, when he and his friends had been cast out to your star. Somehow, you had forgiven him for that.Â
Perhaps that is the line down which you two truly differâhe is so rotten through by sorrow and defeat, and you hold your head high yet. You can forgive. You can hold him like this, despite everything, even if you feel so selfish for it.
âSorry,â you mutter, and you start to pull back from him.
âWaitââ His damnable voice cracks on the word. He clears his throat. âPlease, justâŚa little while longerâŚâ
 You still against him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, cursing himself. But you stay, and thatâs the important part. You hug him just a little tighter, and part of him will always love you for that. The word gives him significant pause, and he goes rigid against you, mouth twisting into a rueful smile. When had it come to this? He cannot quite recall. But he finds he doesnât mind it. Yet another thing only you could bring him to feel.
âThank you,â Ardbert murmurs eventually, fingers curling for a moment into your back before he releases you. âForgive me. I wasâŚâ he trails off, his words failing him.
âI understand,â you say, and you smile, your cheeks tear-streaked and your eyes red and swollen. Andâdamn youâyou reach up and touch him, your fingers so warm and tender as they slide against his cool skin until your palm is flush to his face. His eyes flutter shut, and his breath deepens. âYou are always at my side. Thank you for that.â He laughs, but the sound is choked and filled with such a sorrow that he can scarcely grasp it himself. It has been so longâŚ
âUntil the end,â he promises, eyes openingâclear, determined blue. âWeâll see this through, you and I.â
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