“One more dance,” Amille whispered. 

Vanaar looked up at her wife, a backdrop of stars sparkling against her hair, and couldn’t hold back her smile. “That’s what you said during the last song, Ami.” 

The weather was perfect--but it always was in Il Mheg. Beneath their feet was a carpet of flowers in every color conceivable, and several of the fae watched surreptitiously from behind various shrubbery. Since the wedding, they had mostly stopped pulling pranks on the two of them, their union being sanctified by their king. Mostly. This, this she would miss. 

She leaned into her wife and let her head rest on Amille’s chest. G’raha had assured them both countless times that the transfer was risk free, that they had nothing to worry about, but that didn’t stop the small flutter of nerves that gnawed at her stomach. She had fought tyrants and gods alike, but the last time she’d been this afraid was when she was sure that she’d lost Amille forever. 

“One more,” she agreed. 

“Y’know what I miss most about home?” Amille asked softly.

“Aymeric?” 

Amille pulled away briefly so that Vanaar could see the sour look on her face in all its glory. “Nah. I mean sure, I miss the bastard, but more than that I miss the bars.” 

Vanaar rolled her eyes. “There’s bars here.” 

“None like the Forgotten Knight though.” 

“So it is Aymeric then.” A smirk played across her lips. 

“By the Twelve, V, that’s where we met.” 

“Well, we’ll have to make sure that the Lord Commander uses his power for good to clear the place for us when we return. It’ll be the grandest party--” 

“No that’s what I mean. I miss the people. I miss walkin’ in a place where no one knows who you are, where there’s no talk about the bloody light or darkness. Where you can have a pint in peace.” 

“Sounds nice.” Vanaar scoffed. She hadn’t enjoyed that level of anonymity since around the time she and Amille met. 

“Let’s sneak out, when we get back.” 

“Tataru will kill us.” 

“Tataru doesn’t have to know. We’ll take the aetheryte, be back by sun up.” 

“By sun up? You must be getting old.” 

Amille pulled her in close and dipped her low. “Call me old one more time, oh Warrior of Darkness.” 

The wind whipped back the Exarch’s hood to reveal what X'kebhi had known all along. Two sheepish ruby eyes stared back at her, fading in and out as the Light coursed through her and out towards him. 

"Raha, please...you can't do this to me again." Her grip on Vanaar beside her grew tighter, and she felt as her partner leaned in to support her. Tears had already been brimming in her eyes from the pain, but now they began to pour down her face in great volume.

He flinched at his name, and at least had the decency to look ashamed; glancing down at the ground with his lips pulled taut. "This can't be where your story ends. We both know this." He met her gaze with steel in his eyes despite the tears that fell. "Kebhi I have to do this, for the world and more importantly for you."

"This isn't what I want!" It took all her strength to get up on her shaky legs, to take one step forward. Vanaar continued to be the rock at her side, as the other miqo'te always was. "All I ever wanted was to pry open the doors of that goddamn tower and get you back." She dug down deep into herself for all the strength she had left. "You left me once already Raha I won't let you do it again!" And then, X'kebhi pulled.

The extra 100 years the Exarch had on her made it a difficult game of tug of war. No matter how strong she was or how much expertise she had in the studies of aether, the Exarch had a long time to prepare himself for this moment. The Light flowing between them came to a stand still, but it did not start flowing back to X'kebhi even a little. If she were being honest, X'kebhi had no idea how long the three stood there on that circle. Time seemed to stop as she tried to yank on the aether with all of her might. Which is likely why what happened next went so poorly.

She didn't hear the shot, all she saw was G'raha fall in front of her, as a primal scream of horror was torn from her throat. She saw Emet-Selch behind him, pistol drawn and sneering down at her and Vanaar. She saw as the circle around them began to fade, but that's when the Light surged back towards them. She'd been using all of her strength. Every onze. And the Light slammed back into her with a vengeance.

It almost felt blank.

She saw everything happening around her in a haze, numbbed by white. Flashes. Images. Amille had come to grab Vanaar, help her up, and X'kebhi remained lying on the ground. Was that Urianger next to G'raha? Where had Emet-Selch run off to? Was he still somewhere nearby? Vanaar was on her feet, eyes wide and hands covering her mouth. She tried to reach out to her partner, her best friend. She couldn't feel it. All she could feel was pain.

All she could do, the last thing she could give her friends, was her characteristic grin. "Take care of him for me," her very last whispered words. 

Feo Ul laughed. “Well what do you expect? You saved their realm, child, their very existence. I’m sure the castle would be bursting at the seams if we let in everyone whose life you’ve touched.” 

“And they’re all going to be looking at me.” Vanaar rubbed the sparkling lace hem of her dress between her fingers. Other-worldly material, surely, if her fae patron had anything to do with it. 

“Good thing you look hot in that dress,” X’kebhi said. She stepped fully into the room from her post at the door--neither of them fully trusted Amille to not try to sneak a look at her before the ceremony, tradition and luck be damned--and sized Vanaar up with a faux-analytical gaze. Finally after her calculations were complete, she gave a curt, satisfied nod. “They’ll be talking about your radiance for centuries.” 

“Kebhi,” Vanaar managed before the emotion choked at her throat, cutting her thought off short. She pulled the miqo’te in for a hug. 

“You two deserve your moment, Vee.” X’kebhi’s own voice was thick. “We’ve had to fight a lot of sin eaters and garleans and politicians to get here.” 

Feo Ul tapped at Vanaar’s shoulder, pulling her back with soft grace. “There there, I’ll have no more of that, you two! I’d barely finished Vanaar’s make up and there you go getting all teary eyed and sentimental. Come now, look up and to the right--yes, that’s better.” 

The pixie fussed around for several minutes longer while X’kebhi gave Vanaar a look that could only mean relief at not being the one under their skeptical gaze. Finally, when they were satisfied, they gave a small nod, first to Vanaar, then to X’kebhi. 

“I think you’re all set then, sapling. Best not keep her waiting any longer.” 

X’kebhi held out her arm to Vanaar and together they walked towards the ballroom. Vanaar felt a moment of relief, giving way to giddy flutters. There was no one else she would want at her side for this moment.

--

“‘Sa bout time you made it out here, luv,” Amille turned, that same grin, those same amber eyes, and an unfamiliar tinge of sorrow lingering beneath. 

Vanaar wanted nothing more than to run to her arms, to be swept away in the strength and comfort of her embrace, but she held herself back. The last words she had said to Amille on the battlefield, they had been meant to sting, to get her as far away from the deadly sphere of Vanaar’s own influence as they could. It hadn’t worked. Amille had fought her way through hordes of Garlean soldiers just to have her soul stripped from her. In the weeks that followed that bloody night, Vanaar had forced herself to come to terms with the fact that her friends, her loved ones. . .her Amille had been lost to her forever. 

“You were brought here at the same time as Allisae, that means you’ve been here for. . .” 

“A year abouts, aye,” Amile replied. A look flickered across her face, too fast for Vanaar to properly identify before it was replaced by a smirk. “You look so serious, Vee. That mask, all the black.” 

“The battle took its toll on all of us,” Vanaar replied. She self-consciously rubbed her left arm, her scarred arm. She wore long gloves to cover the worst of it, but there was a vanity in her that wondered how Amille would react when she saw. She dropped her gaze to the ground, ears flattening against her head. “So you’ve been fighting sin-eaters?” 

Amille nodded. “There’s plenty of work round these parts for a mercenary.” 

“She’s underselling herself,” Allisae cut in. “Her skills are invaluable to our cause, though I’m sure that comes as no surprise to you.” 

In spite of herself, a smile spread across Vanaar’s face. “Even here, you’re keeping up with that charade?”

“Charade?” Amille scoffed. “I’m the best damn mercenary around, thank you kindly.” 

“I’ve no doubt about it,” Vanaar said, glancing back up at Amille. Her arms were crossed, and with a pang of longing, Vanaar wished to be wrapped in their embrace. She bit her lip as a heavy silence settled over the small group. After glancing between the two of them, X’kebhi clapped her hand on Allisae’s shoulder. 

“I had some questions about your work here, Allisae,” X’kebhi said. “We’ve been conducting research in the Crystarium, and perhaps with what you’ve learned about the sin eaters here, we could start to make some headway. Perhaps you can discuss it with me at camp?”

Allisae glanced at Vanaar and nodded. “Amille can show you the way when you’re ready.” 

The two walked away, X’kebhi already beginning to detail the studies she and the Exarch had been working on. A stiffness filled the air in their wake, and Vanaar felt a pang of longing in her chest. Though she had motivated herself in those lonely weeks with the hope that she might be able to find a way to reunite with Amille, she had never dared to let herself to dream this far. She was not sure what came next, but she knew it was on her to make the first move. She was the reason Amille was caught up in all of this, after all. 

“Vee,” Amille said, startling Vanaar out of her contemplation. “I’m happy to see you again.” 

Vanaar could feel the tears hot on her face as she took a step forward, then another, closing the distance between them. “I never should have asked you to leave.” 

“You did what you thought was right, luv, no one could blame you for that.” 

Vanaar could tell that Amille was holding herself back, gauging the situation, waiting for her to set the precedent. With shaky hands, Vanaar reached behind her head and untied the bone mask that hid her face, her scars. It dropped to the ground with a soft thud, and Vanaar’s eyes followed it, unable to bring herself to meet Amille’s gaze. She could still hear the sharp intake of air as Amille took it in. 

“Vanaar,” she said softly. 

“I was reckless,” Vanaar muttered. “I had already lost so many people, Ami. I couldn’t let him take even one more life that night. I had to take him on by myself. There was no other choice.” 

Amille’s tone turned to stone. “Who did this to you?”

“Zenos…or Elidibus, I guess. I know it’ll take some time getting used to. . .this.” 

Amille cupped Vanaar’s chin with a strong hand, tilting her face up towards her own. Vanaar looked into her warm amber eyes, vision blurred with tears. 

“There’s nothing that’s changed about you, Vee. You’re still as strong and beautiful as the day I first laid eyes on you.” 

Unable to wait a second longer, Vanaar reached up with both hands and pulled Amille into a kiss. Her lips were dry against Vanaar’s, sticky with the heat. She could feel Amille’s sweat mingling with her own tears, but as they melted into each other Vanaar felt more at peace than she had in weeks.

--

Amille belongs to @kollapsar

Minfilia urged her to run, begged her to go, but she could not help but stop and turn, watch her companion, her friend get swallowed up by the blast. Would things have been different if she had given voice to her feelings? 

Papalymo was in front of her, the strain of effort contorting his features. Yda was dragged away, X’kebhi held to their promise and turned to flee, but Vanaar--she was rooted to her position, she could not run. 

Estinien begged for death, but this was the first hesitation to grant life, to save it. She and X’kebhi wrested him from the grip of Nidhogg’s eyes, threw them over the bridge. Though perhaps a moment’s pause more would have shown them the flaw in that disposal plan. 

Amille had asked for a place by her side in the upcoming battle. Vanaar weighed the pros against the cons, thought for too long. She was afraid. Even one moment too long on the battlefield, one distraction, and Amille could be lost to her forever. That was a risk she could not take, even as she tried to ignore the budding feelings in her chest. Amille was too valuable to Eorzea. If she had been more swift in her decision, perhaps Amille would not have come back, would not have been taken with Allisae. 

Elidibus had not left a single moment for hesitation as they fought, and she had no back up. She was alone on the field, staff clutched like a lance. She stared into his eyes for one moment too long, and the scars would immortalize that moment forever. 

“Marry me if we make it out of this alive?” Amille joked through gritted teeth. It was in jest, sure, but Vanaar knew the answer immediately. 

As they washed up on the shores of Il Mheg, covered in sweat and water, lungs aching from the strain of the fight, Vanaar dragged herself over to Amille and struggled to sit up beside her. She cupped the highlander’s face in her hands and looked deep into her amber eyes, heart fluttering as smiled. 

“Yes,” she said, not a single ounce of her wanting to hold back. “We’re alive. I want to marry you.”

--