#karoiseka

If there was one thing, just the one, that the Exarch would consider a secret he would rather be kept to himself for fear of mockery, it would be that he felt something of an understanding of trees.

“Understanding,” might be a poor choice of word, though he wasn’t sure how else to describe the feeling he grappled with, standing still in the boundless, beautiful garden that was all of Lakeland, knowing he was the oldest thing in it. The lilac colored grass, the lavender elf trees, the brilliant blooms that had sprung to life...all things he toiled to help bring to life, things he had watched stretch ever higher, ever toward the sky. 

Perhaps that was why he struggled to consider himself wholly selfless: how could he plant trees whos shade he would never walk in, knowing that he would live for eons, as the Crystal Exarch?

“Your thoughts are loud.” His companion— his dearest one— mused at his side.

He turned toward her, the Warrior of Light and Darkness both, and couldn’t help but smile. Karoiseka hadn’t so much as looked his way, and yet she still knew him well enough that he was, once more, getting very much into his own head.

“Can you hear them? Do you know what I’m thinking?” The Exarch asked with a playful smirk. 

Truly, it wouldn’t surprise him in the least to discover that she knew exactly that he was thinking about; more often than not, she seemed to have an eerie, almost preternatural sense of what was weighing on his mind. As long as she never suspected he had a gift for her on his person, then he might yet manage to surprise her with something that wasn’t potentially world ending today.

“I’m not a mind reader, Crystal Boy,” she reminded him, and then she turned to face him, bending to peer up at him from under his hood. “But I can practically hear the gears in your head turning. That rarely means anything good.”

“I think of plenty of positive things!” G’raha insisted, even as he tugged his hood down to shy away from those piercing eyes of hers. 

“Oh? And what are you thinking of?” She asked with a perk of her ear and a swish of her tail.

He watched Karo straighten as they continued to walk down the garden path, and felt a twinge of guilt at not wanting to explain what, precisely, he had been ruminating over. His mind hadn’t wandered far before she had pulled him back to the present, thank goodness, but even with how close they had become, how much he loved her, endlessly, he struggled with trying to put to words how he felt regarding the years he had lived, and how much farther they stretched than they should have. 

No, better to think of the present. Of the warmth of her hand in his. Of the happiness, the want to live that she inspired in him. Of how he had never looked forward to tomorrow so much as he did when she reentered his life. Better to focus on her.

“I was ruminating on the weather, and hoping it holds for our outing,” he said instead— technically also the truth. 

“Oh, is that all?” Karo asked, and threw her head back in a laugh as if in relief.

The sound was bright and genuine. Her laugh was a ray of sunshine that he lingered in, warmed by her radiance. How quickly she made such concerns as nigh immortality seem so petty, compared to committing the present to memory. Historian and archivist as he was, he would be remiss in his duties to not take in her every brilliant facet.

So he decided to let himself be G’raha Tia today— and more specifically, just for her, he could let himself be Raha.

She made a point to reach for the hand not yet turned crystal, to make sure he could feel her touch and be comforted by it. He was glad he had foregone his usual arm wrappings; he’d have her touch as unobstructed as he could manage. He readily laced their fingers together and moved that inconsequential, crucial ilm closer to her, to unmake the distance entirely.

Karoiseka had done as much for him, had waded through the void and been battered by the stars themselves, had fought her way along the better path, all just to reach him. It was the least he could do to embrace the life she had battled so desperately for him to have— and to embrace her, for the love they had unexpectedly found along the way. 

Their walk wasn’t far— he could only wander so far from the Crystarium when not away on business, after all— though when they finally stopped at the shore of the lake, they at last came to a stop. After a scan to ensure they were well and truly alone, they set bow and staff alike against the tree beside them at the lakefront, a physical way to show that they had both unburdened themselves of titles and obligations, if only for this singular moment to enjoy their surroundings and one another alike. The breeze coming off the lake was refreshing, and the way it caught her hair when she turned to look at him stole his breath. Though really, she always did that anyway.

For a moment, they took in their surroundings— and each other— though the Exarch eventually gave into his own selfish desire and draped his arm warmly around Karoiseka’s shoulders. He didn’t dare tug her closer, he didn’t want to push her in any way, though he deliberately angled himself ever so slightly toward her in silent invitation.

When she let out a happy hum and bumped her head into his chest as a show of affection, she stumbled back unexpectedly when her temple connected with the spot he’d hidden his gift to her— the box tucked away in his breast pocket. 

“Oof— what—” She startled, gently rubbing at her temple.

A moment of panic hit him when she managed to hit the one spot on his chest he had hoped to conceal, though it was easy enough to hide that panic with the equally genuine panic of fretting over his beloved.

“A-ah! I’m so sorry, Karo—!” The Exarch let go of her hand and stepped in front of her with a swiftness that blew his hood off of his head. He ignored the way only one of his hands felt the gentle warmth of her skin when he cupped her face in his hands and tilted it up closer for inspection. “You hit one of the embellishments on my coat— did it hurt you?”

“No, no, you’re being silly.” Karoiseka insisted, flushing prettily beneath his searching fingertips, bright eyes averted even as she didn’t pull away from him. She pouted most endearingly when he smoothed his thumbs over her cheekbones. “You can stop fussing.”

“I have. Now, I am admiring!” The Exarch laughed, glad that he managed to sidestep her discovering the gift he had before he was ready to give it. “To have such beauty in my grasp, how could I not?”

“Oh! Y-you—!” Flustering, Karoiseka swatted at his chest— and when her hand smacked the hard, decidedly square box in his coat that accompanied a strange rattling, her hand froze there. The discomposed expression on her face twisted into a ponderous arch of her brow, a shift of her sharp gaze, and a curious tilt of her head against his hands. “Wait...what is…?”

He realized a second too late that she was staring at it, her fingers molding over the edges, flexing, inspecting, testing.

“Ah.” Knowing when he was caught and cornered, the Exarch sighed, removing his hands from her face to scratch at his cheek and fiddle with a tassel on his coat in nervous habit. “I had meant to surprise you with it.”

Her hand still remained enclosed over his coat, around the box, though she made no move to attempt to divest him of it for closer inspection. After a moment, her fingers went lax, no longer gripping around the edges, and shifted away from the box altogether to lay over his heart instead.

“You needn’t surprise me with anything. You know that.” She said, and it struck him how quietly she spoke those words.

The thought occurred to him that she might think the surprise grave, given his previous attempts at secrecy with her and the rest of the Scions. Or she might not have expected him to want to give her gifts.

Or...was she unaccustomed to it? Was it unwelcome? The thought hadn’t even occurred to him before now, though suddenly the slight weight of the gift in his breast pocket felt as dense as lead, and he had to make a concerted effort to swallow his heart when it leapt into his throat the moment that panic gripped him. 

“I know. I wanted to!” The Exarch managed around a stammer, mentally cursing himself all the while. Nevertheless, he persisted, “It was the least I could do— I feel as though we’ve hardly had a moment to ourselves, and I wanted to show you how much I—”

“You’re babbling, Crystal Boy.” She chided gently, words wrapped in a giggle and formed around a broad smile. “Be at ease. I’m flattered, I just want you to know I don’t expect it.”

“Ah. Ah!” His ears perking with realization were enough to give away that he hadn’t realized he’d gotten caught in a bit of a loop, his brightly blushing face only flushed all the deeper the more he looked at Karoiseka, who for her part was watching him with growing amusement. “Y-yes, of course! I’m glad to have surprised you— or rather! Surprised you in a good way— or in what I hope is a good way—” 

At Karoiseka’s pointedly blanched expression, brows raised in a very clear show of waiting for him to be quite finished with his anxious rambling, he visibly straightened himself as he cleared his throat, and when she removed her hand from his chest he made an effort to tug his robes back into place. 

“I should stop overthinking it, I think.” He admitted in a calmer tone.

“I agree.” She replied in a flat tone.

“Right.” With a deep breath to collect himself, he tried, again, to find his eloquence. “Karo. I know I’ve likely exhausted you for how much I remind you of how happy you make me.”

“You don’t. That’s impossible.” Karoiseka corrected him. Her ears tweaked in amusement as she offered a bashful smile. “I could never get tired of you in any sense of the word.”

“...Right.” He amended, ignoring the heat growing on his face. He was fairly certain his blush was spreading clear down to his chest by now.

When he averted his eyes from her patient, expectant gaze, he couldn’t help but let his focus shift to her bow, crossed over his staff and propped against the tree. It’s familiar blue crystals shimmered faintly in the sunlight, dappled with an iridescent kaleidoscope of fractals of light. 

Once he’d found his courage again and he peered at her with a sidelong glance, she looked ethereal, breathtaking, and somehow that made the words come easier. 

“Though I was not the one that gave you the bow you now wield, I know it was crafted with fragments of the tower.” 

“So I was told.” With a content hum, Karoiseka nodded. “But really, I could tell even before the weaponsmith said so— only so many crystals that are this shade of blue.”

“I rather liked the idea of a part of my home going with you on your journeys. To accompany you when I cannot.” The Exarch felt himself wince as he continued, “But I misliked the idea of only offering a part of me as a weapon for you. To mark you as an arbiter of the Crystal Exarch. Such an implication felt ill suited for you.”

“I never viewed it that way.” She tried to reassure him, though when he held up a hand to signal he wasn’t quiet done talking, she offered him a grin filled to the brim with fond exasperation. “Alright, alright, go on. I’m listening.”

Helpless in the face of his affection, helpless in front of her as he always was, the hand he’d held up moved to close the distance between them, to cup her face in his hand. She eagerly leaned into his touch, though her eyes twinkled in mischief when she snuck a kiss to his palm as she did so. Despite his flustering at her affectionate antics, her affection eased him into finally reaching into his coat with his free hand and producing the box she had bumped into. 

“I would much rather offer you a piece of my home that I had taken myself, and made into something that served no other purpose than to bring you joy.” He murmured, and slid his hand from her face to open it. “I wanted you to always have a part of me with you, to show the world— any world that you’re in— that I am yours, Karo. Always.”

The Exarch’s breath caught in his throat at the way she peered into the box, her eyes wide as saucers and her lips parted in shock. Though she moved a hand in the space between them, it hovered there, moving neither without nor within. She stood, transfixed by the two crystal hair tassels inlaid in the box. There was such little movement that for a moment, he feared he had offended her.

Then she spoke.

“Raha...” Karoiseka whispered in a voice that trembled with the weight of reverence and unshed tears in equal measure. 

That one utterance unmade him entirely, struck him at his heart, and before he could even register the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes— and in hers— she launched herself into his arms. Even unfeeling as it was, his crystalline arm wrapped around her to clutch her closer without thought, without anything but the instinctive need to always keep her close to him and remind him that he was human, that he was alive. He managed to avoid spilling the crystal tassels out of the box, even as he yet stumbled to keep them both upright from the force of her impact.

He made to ask if she was alright when he heard a telltale sniffle from somewhere around his shoulder. Her arms— powerful, fierce, unyielding as they were— squeezed him so tightly that he felt every jagged piece of his crystalline heart fit back into place. She had that effect on him all the time, really, but the physicality of it was soothing. 

“You like them?” He asked in spite of himself, just to be sure.

Karoiseka slipped her arms from him and stepped back, gazing at him with wide, glassy eyes, and in lieu of her own babbling, she smiled wide enough to make the corners of her eyes crinkle, enough to make those tears slip down her cheeks, even as she vigorously nodded. His posture softened in relief, and he moved to gesture toward the box still in his grip.

“Would you like me to put them on for you?” He offered.

With another enthusiastic nod of her head and another sniffle, he handed her the box and took the first of the two tassels in hand.

“They’re not too complicated— I am not much of a goldsmith, admittedly— a simple hinge and a clasp was about all I could manage.” He spoke softly as he clasped the first one around the end of one of her braids. “Though Iola was instrumental in ensuring that my handiwork was of suitable durability, for a blessing. I wanted to make sure these would endure whatever trials and tribulations you may face.”

“They’re beautiful.” Karoiseka finally managed to croak out, and from what he could see in his peripheral view, she was peering down at the other tassel, still in the box. “I can’t put to words how much this means to me.”

“You needn’t.” The Exarch reassured her, taking the second tassel. “That you would wear them so gladly is proof enough. I only hope these small tokens can convey even a little of how much you mean to me.” 

“Of course they do!” She reassured him.

The second braid he aimed to adorn was a little smaller, and a little trickier to put a tassel on. The fiddling gave him time to babble distractedly, letting his heart be more honest with her.

“I know that obligations have kept us both busy— and I, in particular have been scarce of late for my work. I feared it would be less apparent how I cherish you, so I suppose this is something of a declaration of mine, if you would have it.” 

“Always.” She promised him. 

The clasp finally worked through her braid and secured itself properly, though he lingered, his hands moving almost on their own, completely naturally, to hold her face again. 

“No matter what happens, I beg you to never doubt my heart, or your ownership of it.” His hands guided her head into tilting down just an ilm, just enough for him to press a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” Her head straightened, and he kissed the tip of her nose, cherishing the way it crinkled cutely under the attention. “I love you.” The third kiss, she met him half way for, their lips finding one another in soft enthusiasm. “I love you, Karo.”

The tears she had managed to swallow came back in full force, though her smile had never been bigger or brighter, and he had never felt so warm.

“And I love you, Raha.” She whispered, overwhelmed.