Chapter Text
“I think this is the last of it,” Evi’a said as he passed down a faded red bag of ornaments from the loft.
“You certainly have quite the collection,” G’raha answered warmly as he hefted the surprisingly heavy trimmings away from the ladder.
“That does tend to happen over the years, can’t really throw any of it out. Shame there’s never room on the tree for all of it.”
Evi’a had spoken in passing back in their time on the First that he enjoyed redecorating his home for the seasons, even if he wasn’t like to be present to enjoy the fruits of his labor. He’d said it gave him a much needed connection with a normal life, an appreciation and respect for the passage of time. When G’raha had returned to the Source in the late summer, he’d found the Keeper true to his word--the table was festooned in dried sunflowers and potted greenery, and the house was decorated in accents of yellow and blue. Then, the week prior to the autumn festival, G’raha had happily helped him swap out the foliage with carefully preserved, brightly colored autumn leaves, and the sunlit hues of summer were replaced with red, amber, and dashes of gold. Apparently winter was to be no different, and Evi’a had declared the night previous that he meant to put up his decorations in concordance with the opening day of the Starlight Festival.
And so he’d watched with a fond and full heart at the breakfast table as his beloved darted about with uncharacteristic purpose at such an early hour, pulling festive crockery down from high shelves and dragging out tablecloths and runners in red and green. They proceeded to spend the morning decking the house--their house--in fragrant pine, running garlands up the staircase, arranging fairy lights just so, and finally bringing in the bright red poinsettias and the sturdy potted fir sent specially by the botanist’s guild. Decorating the tree in the early hours of the evening would be the final touch, and he meant to enjoy every moment of it.
One hundred and twelve mornings now, he’d woken up on the Source next to his beloved. One hundred and twelve days of a beautiful life he’d never really believed he would have, real and tangible at his fingertips. Yes, there were forbidding towers being reported from all corners of the world, there were scheming sundered Ascians, Imperial unrest, and Zenos besides to contend with...but these were all challenges that he and Evi’a would face side by side. No more years of numbed waiting and agonized planning, no more waking up to day after day of unforgiving, unchanging light, of watching his people live and die having never known the wonder of even a single season in all its fleeting beauty. Every garland he fluffed until it hung perfectly, every sprig of juniper he arranged around their orange-laden fruit bowl, every soft velvet ribbon he carefully tied--they were all testaments to his new life, to an unbreakable partnership, to the comfort of time passing as it should.
“What about this one?” he asked as darkness mantled the world outside their walls, holding up an ornament consisting of deep blue feathers tied at the top with a golden cord.
“Ah, that’s from Sezul. Their people don’t celebrate Starlight, but it’s customary for each member of the crew to pluck a flight feather when an airship takes its maiden voyage. Given my part in getting their first ship off the ground, he gifted me with this offering of feathers from himself and the standing officers. It’s a great honor but to be honest, I didn’t really know what to do with it...thought it might be appropriate as a Starlight ornament.”
“It’s beautiful. I should like to meet your Ixali friends sometime, if you think they’d be amenable to my presence,” he said, admiring the way the iridescent plumes caught the light as he hung the token on the tree.
“Of course! They don’t tend to fly so much this time of year what with the winter storms, so we might be able to visit between Starlight and Heavensturn. They produce fine lumber...I’ve been thinking about seeing them to buy wood for that deck we’ve been talking about anyway.”
It was an unexpected, delightful surprise to find that Evi’a’s eclectic assortment of ornaments all had stories behind them, ranging from elaborate tribal gifts to a golden orgel ball from the Sultana to lopsided, charmingly painted odds and ends from the children in the Brume. He’d only been able to ask about a handful of them as they went about decorating the tree, but he was immensely looking forward to asking for more tales in the coming days as they curled up together on the sofa.
“Actually, I’ve got something for you, courtesy of Lyna,” Evi’a said with a smile as he emerged from behind the tree, producing a small wooden box that he’d kept hidden away amongst the packaged decorations. “She said to give it to you when we were decorating the tree.”
“From Lyna?” he asked, ears perking. They’d never celebrated Starlight per se, but he’d always put up a little sapling that had come to him by way of Wolekdorf around the time of the year that he thought was right. When Lyna had come along he’d decorated with her in the winter with bits and baubles that they made together. A part of him felt guilty for having her take part in a practice that was likely to be viewed as one of his eccentric pastimes--she already had so many cultural issues to deal with as a Viis living outside Rak’tika. She’d always seemed to enjoy it though, and it warmed his heart to find over the years that she enjoyed the tradition as something unique to the familial bond they shared.
His breath caught as he slid the lid aside to reveal a pair of familiar, beloved ornaments--a multi-tiered cerulean diamond made from panes of crystal fitted together, and a tiny footprint captured in the deep red clay that used to be mined just beyond Holminster Switch.
“Do these have stories?” Evi’a asked with a smile, sidling up to give him an affectionate bunt.
“They do,” he murmured, once he trusted himself to speak. “This one,” he said, carefully lifting the crystalline bauble from the straw so that it caught the fairy lights, “I made from the Tower itself. Lyna was too small to remember when I made the panes for the domes of the Crystarium, and when she found I’d fashioned them myself from the Tower she begged me to show her how it was done, and would not let the matter rest. I finally promised her that I would demonstrate just once, when it came time to decorate the tree.”
“It’s beautiful,” Evi’a said, admiring the ornament as G’raha carefully hung it in the tree. “She must have been delighted.”
“Aye, she was...I’d thought she’d insist on more demonstrations, but she seemed satisfied. Well, later I happened upon her attempting to break off a bit of the Tower herself with a hammer and chisel, but I just left her to it,” he said, chuckling at the memory of her frustrated little face. “This one I trust needs no explanation,” he added, running a thumb over the tiny print as he removed the lacquered clay.
“How old was she?” Evi’a asked as he hung that one as well, right next to the silver-beaded ornaments from the Keeper’s daughters.
“Four months. Truth be told I’d tried to make one when she was younger and made a terrible mess of it, spent what felt an age washing mud from between her toes while she squalled, poor thing. I ended up crawling to the Mean to ask for advice, and as you can see the second result was far more acceptable.” The Keeper wrapped an arm around his waist as they stood back to admire their handiwork, mementoes from their lives hanging side by side. Perhaps he didn’t have much to show for himself now, but that he would eventually brought him a quiet, powerful joy, his purr mixing with his love’s as winking aethereal lights illuminated their memories.
“Oh! I almost forgot, she gave me a letter to go with them,” Evi’a exclaimed, bringing them out of their reverie as he rummaged in his jacket to produce a small envelope. “I’ll go put on some mulled wine for us,” he said, handing it over and making his way to the kitchen to offer a bit of privacy. To Grandfather , the letter was marked, in Lyna’s usual tidy and diligent handwriting.
Happy Starlight! I hope these find both of you happy and well. Mind you this isn’t your Starlight gift; I fear it’s not quite finished yet. As I brought out the tree this year of course I thought of you, and that you might also be decorating a tree on the Source served as a great comfort. Forgive me only sending along two ornaments--I couldn’t bear to part with the rest, leastways not for now. I hope the two I chose make you smile to see them, and know that I am looking upon our tree with a smile of my own for all the dear times we spent together. You may be a star away, but I will never forget you and who you are to me, my only family, my dearest grandfather.
He had to stop for a moment and surreptitiously wipe at his eyes. Lyna had never been one for sentimentality in writing, and he blinked back tears as he looked to her tiny footprint, then back to the letter.
As an aside, I’m pleased to report that the second annual Crystarium Starlight celebration proceeds apace with great enthusiasm and festivity. The tree Feo Ul has placed in the Exedra beggars belief for its size and beauty. Incidentally, I don’t know if your warrior told you, but the Mean has fashioned a statue in your honor for the occasion--for bringing the festival to the First, among everything else you’ve done for us. It is absolutely bedecked in flowers and garlands, would that there were a way to show you! Ah, but I can imagine you blushing now to think of it, which is very satisfying I must admit.
Never doubt that your people love you--as do I--and that we are all praying for your happiness on the Source.
I’ll keep to this for now, and write another letter to go with your gift once it’s finished.
Ever your loving granddaughter,
Lyna
He sighed, pressing the letter to his chest as he looked to the tree once more, then made his way to the sofa to have another read. Presently Evi’a returned and took a seat beside him, carefully passing him a mug of sweetly spiced wine before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
“Are you alright?” the Keeper asked softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. He gave a hum and rested his head on his beloved’s shoulder, comfortable silence stealing over them for a while as they sipped their drinks and enjoyed one another’s warmth.
“I already miss her,” he said quietly after a while, snuggling into the bard’s steady heartbeat at his side..
“I know,” Evi’a answered, giving his ears a nuzzle. “For what comfort it may offer, she seems...happier, when I go to visit these days. More relaxed.”
“That is a comfort. As is your welcome willingness to ferry messages and packages back and forth for us,” he purred. “I miss her, and yet...perhaps this will sound insensitive, but compared to the great many other decisions I’ve made that I wring my hands about at night, there is a steady peace in my heart over the nature of our parting. She’s a capable, formidable woman, and with me away and the eaters vanquished, she can finally be free to live her own life. Even through letters and your reports I can see how she blossoms and thrives, and it does me well to know.”
“It’s not insensitive,” Evi’a said softly, “though I’m not sure your presence kept her from her leading the life she wished to live.”
“Ah, that’s not exactly what I meant, forgive me. ‘Tis more that, were the world she grew up in a more natural one, she might have had the experience of flying the nest and traveling abroad, perhaps even to her homelands. As it were she spent a great deal of time worrying and fussing over me, and I’m well aware she joined the Guard first and foremost out of desire to protect the only family she had left to her. Were I still there, I’m not certain she would have traveled, content as she always was to remain by my side. My absence will afford her the chance to examine what it is she wishes to do with her life. I won’t pretend that it’s not painful, but it could be far worse, and for a blessing, we are still able to communicate with one another. I greatly look forward to seeing what interests she pursues as time goes on.”
“Well, that’s understandable,” the Keeper acquiesced. “And I’m more than happy to serve as a courier anytime.” G’raha purred and bunted affectionately under his chin, then looked up questioningly at his love.
“Are you certain it was acceptable for us to do this together on our own? I know you said you traditionally have the twins over for decorating, it must mean a lot to them.”
“I think it does, but also, I imagine there’s a part of them that was grateful to have been spared,” Evi’a said with a rueful smile. “I wanted this time to be special for us. Perhaps next year we can all do it together? Anyroad we’re having them over for Starlight Eve, I’m sure they’ll be helping with the cooking.”
“Oh dear, should I be worried?” he asked playfully, remembering the last time he’d chanced to try the brine solution that was Alisaie’s chicken stew.
“Nah, she’ll be happy to chop the vegetables and what have you, and Alphinaud’s work has actually come along quite well from his days of fending for himself. Oh, and...I suppose I should mention this, but at some point over the holidays I’d like us to have Aymeric over as well, if you don't mind.”
“Aymeric?” he asked with raised eyebrows and perked ears. “You have the Lord Commander over for Starlight tea?”
“Er, yes,” Evi’a admitted, color rising in his cheeks as he looked away, ears flicking with embarrassment. “He’s, uh, attuned to the house aetheryte, sometimes tends the garden when I’m away. We usually have dinner together around this time every year.”
“Hmmm?” he purred questioningly, enjoying the blush on his love’s cheek’s for once. “I sense there’s something between the lines here. Should I make myself scarce that day, perhaps?”
“What? No!” the Keeper exclaimed, tail thumping against the sofa cushions.
“That’s good. Having read so much about him, I should very much like to meet him,” he said, letting the question hang in his tone. He flicked his tail up to rest over the bard’s knees as a reassurance, just in case he was perhaps going too far in his teasing. By Azeyma though, he was curious, and he’d always wondered if there’d been more between Evi’a and the Commander based on the suggestive passages in the tomes he’d read. On the First he’d been afraid to ask, but here, comfortably curled up in their house surrounded by the trappings of mutual love and festivity, he found his confidence much bolstered.
“He’ll be pleased to meet you, he’s said as much,” Evi’a answered, clearly seeking to regain his dignity. “And...I suppose an explanation is in order, and probably has been for a long time.”
“I’m not upset,” G’raha said immediately, suddenly worried he’d dashed the comfortable mood. “I only meant to tease, and...I know you love me,” he mumbled, feeling the pink tinting his own cheeks. “It’s just...I didn’t think you were...I know you don’t favor relationships that are less than…” he foundered, and his love mercifully leaned over to nuzzle at him.
“You’re right, I don’t,” he said softly. “After Haurchefant…” He frowned and shook his head. “If I’m honest, it was mostly Alphinaud who kept me on track in the trying moons after...after he died. But I was at a hard time in my life anyway, and I was already...I needed…”
“Someone to hold you?” the Seeker filled in gently, and Evi’a nodded with a pained wince.
“Gods, this sounds worse than I imagined, after all that time you spent without...sorry, I know that’s not what we’re talking about, but…” This time it was G’raha’s turn to offer a bunt of reassurance.
“Many were the times I wanted someone to hold me as well, but I’d backed myself into a very specific, very self-inflicted corner. You’re not weak for needing people to love you, as you’ve said to me any number of times, my dear one.” Evi’a gave him a grateful smile, reached out to hold the hand that wasn’t occupied with a mug.
“We weren’t taking advantage of one another, if that’s what this sounds like. We've always found it easy to speak to each other, we have a lot of surprisingly mutual experiences, and our methods of coping are quite similar. I’m sure you read about what he suffered at the hands of the Holy See, by his father’s leave? After that, I suppose we both needed a hug.”
G’raha gave Evi'a's hand a firm, supportive squeeze and shifted for a moment against his love, pondering whether or not he should ask his next question. In the end, curiosity won out, as it oft tended to do.
“You always speak of him so warmly, and truthfully, some of the passages I read gave the impression that the two of you were close. Then why…?” he trailed off uncertainly.
“Why didn’t we pursue a relationship?” the bard guessed, and G’raha nodded. “It was never...quite like that between us. Make no mistake, I have great love for Aymeric, and always will, and I daresay the opposite is also true...but realistically speaking, there’s no way our lives would ever mesh. He’s tied to the rebuilding and reworking of Ishgard for the foreseeable future. Were there to be a publicly acknowledged relationship between us, it would unfortunately greatly compromise his work, and we both know it. Besides that, he wants children someday, and a stability that I'm not in a position to offer him. I’m making this sound like we’ve actually had this conversation--we haven’t, but I promise you, we both know. If you’re wondering though, aside from Haurchefant, he’s the only other partner I’ve had since I left my tribe. I’m sorry, I should have said something sooner."
“You don’t have to apologize,” G’raha insisted, though wily curiosity of a nature that he knew better than to voice at the moment threatened to consume him. “There are many and more things that I said too late, and probably issues I should speak of that haven’t quite come up. Does he have ornaments on the tree then?” he asked instead, because he had to ask something .
“He does,” Evi’a admitted, and at the insistent thump of G’raha’s tail, he sighed and rose, moving to pluck the aforementioned bauble from the tree. “This one,” he said, resuming his seat and holding up a chain with ornately carved links, each a different metal. “Five links, one for each year we’ve been friends.”
“That’s a lovely tradition,” the Seeker said softly, daring to reach out and run his fingers admiringly over the ornament. Another testament to the passage of time, then. As much as it warmed his heart that Evi’a had an understanding companion to support him through difficult times in the past, he couldn’t help but privately wish to start their own, similar tradition. He would have to think on a suitable representation to mark their upcoming years together.
“I’m...glad you like it. I don’t believe we’ll be able to continue, but sometimes change and even separation from loved ones can be a good thing, as you’ve noted just previously.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” G’raha said, finally setting his mug down so that he could roll over and lay his head in his beloved’s lap. “I grew up a tribal miqo’te as much as you did--I know I’m your mate, just as well as I know that your love for your companions does not detract from your love for me.”
“Even a companion of his nature?” Evi’a asked wryly, fondly smoothing back red ears.
“Even so,” the Seeker said with an impish smile, “so long as there is an understanding that for, say, ninety eight percent of the time, this is my place,” and he punctuated his declaration with a kiss where his love’s waistband rode low enough to reveal a thin strip of storm-grey skin. The bard laughed and mussed his hair.
“I’ll think about it,” the Keeper granted. “I don’t know what I’m comfortable with, not yet.” Evi’a looked away, then back down at him with a mischievous grin. “I’ll tell him we’re a package deal from now on,” he mused, then laughed again when G’raha spluttered and swatted at his thigh.
“You won’t!” the Seeker protested, then stopped to consider for a moment, the mulled wine pleasantly warming his cheeks. “Actually…” The rest of what he might have said was drowned out with an incredulous bark of laughter and then a kiss, the soft heat of his beloved’s lips a perfect counterpoint to the snow falling steadily outside their window.