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The Warrior of Light was a careful person.
It only made sense. After years of fighting, conflict, betrayal, poisoning, assassinations and subsequent accusations of regicide--
She still felt guilty about turning down Aymeric’s drink during dinner the past evening. Were it poured and offered to her by the Elezen himself, things may have been different, but there was no being too careful otherwise.
At the very least, Aymeric understood, and seemed to take no offense on the adventurer’s behalf. Instead, he had laughed, his rich voice filling the air, and changed the subject.
“I received an interesting missive the other night. Thanked me for all I was doing for Ishgard, the usual and all that, but there was another letter inside. Sealed. It was labeled, ‘To the Warrior of Light’ - would you like to take a look?”
He passed it over the table, and the Warrior had stowed it away for later, not wishing to be rude during her visit. As soon as she left, however, curious fingertips were working it open in a second.
Her curiosity turned to suspicion in an instant, however, as the contents were revealed to be a single sentence, with a set of coordinates beneath.
How desperately we yearn for that which we have lost.
Coerthas Western Highlands, (xx,xx)
She swore. This had all the markings of a trap. Or at the very least, the beginning of another series of obligations, no doubt involving great risk to her personal being.
And yet, because she was the great Warrior of Light, she found herself wrapped in furs atop her chocobo the next day, pushing through the wind to her destination.
She arrived to find a humble cottage, windows glowing with a soft light. A welcome light in the cold, she thought as she dismounted and walked up to the door. She knocked twice before readying her hands for combat and taking a step back, surveying her surroundings. All practiced habits that had served her well in the past.
All that practice for nought as the door opened and the Warrior of Light’s composure nearly gave at the sight of a friend long ago thought gone.
“Ysayle.”
She frowned at the unfamiliarity of the word. Had it been that long since her name had passed through her lips? Pulling herself back together with a breath, she continued to speak.
“I thought you were lost. How do I know that this is not an apparition, or a ghost, or a trick--”
“I will explain everything,” the figure in the door said, before moving to gesture the Warrior inside. “Pray come in first, as the cold will only get worse.”
The adventurer’s eyes narrowed. “Which moogle in the Churning Mists was your favorite?”
Without missing a beat, Ysayle smiled and replied, “Mogmug. Although Chief Moglin would be unhappy to hear me say that.”
The Warrior of Light exhaled and followed her in.
True to its exterior appearance, the cottage Ysayle had been living in was indeed a humble abode. The fireplace crackled warmly as she followed her inside, shaking snow from the furs on her shoulders.
Ysayle, already seated by her table, wasted no time. “I, much like everyone else, thought myself gone after Azys Lla. Perhaps I was, for a bit - I awoke on the fields of the Mists, on the verge of death. Hraesvelgr may have forgiven this soul after all.”
She paused to allow her guest to speak. When the Warrior of Light simply stared back at her, eyes rapt with attention, she chuckled.
“Ever the talkative one, I see. For the first time in my life, I found myself without purpose. My faith was gone. My atonement… no, I shall always carry the weight of my past sins with me. They are no longer the fire that propels my actions, as they once were before. I had been working for some external cause for so long that when I found myself directionless, I…”
Her eyes drifted across the room as she struggled to find the right words. The Warrior said nothing, but sat down and extended her hand over the table.
Ysayle took it in her own and smiled. “Thank you, my friend. My ruminations have been rather unsuccessful, I suppose. One thing has been made clear to me in them, though.” She took a breath.
“I asked you here, because I wished to properly thank you for all you have done. You have brought an end to an era of bloodshed and suffering. You have succeeded in that which I have yearned for since I was but a child in the snow. You have… saved our friend. “
The Warrior of Light felt the grip on her hand tighten.
“But that is not all you have done. When I lost my faith - when all I had shattered into pieces - you were there to help me pick them up. In my despair, I sought comfort, and found it in your unwavering resolution. You have been a great inspiration to me, and I must thank you.”
The Warrior nodded solemnly, relieved that Ysayle gave no intention of stopping for a response. She had received thanks for their deeds many times over, but never on this...intimate of a level. Combined with the whirlwind of emotions that had awoken upon seeing her formerly assumed-for-dead friend’s face, it was getting incredibly difficult to keep her face polite. She took deeper breaths, hoping to bring her heart rate down.
Ysayle bowed her head. The Warrior wondered if it was out of respect, or to hide her reddening face.
“I...also wished something else. Pray let me be selfish for a moment.”
“G-go on,” she said, her heart beating faster anyway.
“Warrior of Light...you have never shown me anything but the greatest kindness. I have spent many nights thinking of you, and what you have given me, and -- “ She swallowed the lump in her throat. “...and I have grown to realize that, during our time together, I may have grown to love you in return.”
Everything in the Warrior’s mind besides Ysayle’s presence, her words, and the warm… very warm grip of her hand still in her own evaporated in an instant. In all of her paranoia, she had failed to consider confessions as something to prepare for. She brought her second hand up to Ysayle’s, and tried to do her best to think.
“Ysayle…I...know naught to say. I never imagined that you, who I once took for dead, would be here, and- and real, and…” She trailed off, feeling her composure beginning to crack. “I-...I feel……”
“Tis alright. You do not have to worry about me,” Ysayle said, head still bowed.
The dam cracked, splintered, then shattered into a million pieces.
“I do worry!”, the Warrior cried, tears beginning to roll down her face. “I worry so much my heart may leap from my chest. I-I worried about you when we were apart. After Azys Lla, I prayed every night that I may have had the joy of seeing you again.”
She sniffed. Torn between wanting to rub her eyes and keeping her hands in Ysayle’s, she settled for wiping her face with the back of one sleeve.
“And now you are here, and my prayers have been answered, and I want…”
Ysayle looked at her with gentle eyes. “What is it that you want, my dear?"
The words kept tumbling out of the Warrior’s mouth as she stared holes into the table. “I want to stay here. I want to help you however I can. I want to see you happy, and I-...I care about you a great deal. I don’t want to lose you again. I never want to lose you again.” She closed her eyes and spoke in a small voice. “...Is this… what love feels like?”
A tender smile spread through Ysayle’s face. “Whether it is love, I cannot say for sure. But, we can certainly figure it out together.” She paused. “If you would like to do so."
The Warrior of Light nodded, eyes rising to meet Ysayle’s. “I--. Yes, I think I would like that very much,” she said, beginning to return to her usual composed tone and smiling. “I’ll do my best!”
Ysayle returned her smile, and brought the Warrior’s hand to her lips for a kiss.
“That is all I ask.”