Cena always expected him to be smaller, him being a Highlander and her being a Hellsguard, but he always felt enormous, the force of his thrusts growing stronger and stronger with each repetition. He handled her as easily as if she were a Lalafell, always able to lift or restrain her with seemingly no effort. She occasionally would see the lightest sheen of sweat across his naked body glisten in the dim light of the oil lamp next to the bed, but even that was a rare sight.
His fists were the anchor, holding her fast to her training and her wrists to the bed now as she took him and he took her.
The awareness of the forthcoming knowledge built up like an approaching tidal wave. Her breaths became ragged and vision went blurry as the muscles all throughout her body tensed and she did all she could to hold on to consciousness. He showed no signs of slowing or faltering as they approached the point of knowing, and she didn't hear him speak until he uttered the words he always did-
"Embrace...your...chakra."
Practically cued by his commanding words, her body let go; the tidal wave crashed upon her shores, mercilessly cascading, leaving nothing in its wake. He filled her, holding himself deeply within, unmoving as the aetheral understanding flowed between them. She was laughing; crying; exhausted.
They stayed in that position until the current died down and the tears stopped, until Cena came back to herself and Widargelt released her wrists. She felt new; powerful-and impossibly tired. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt him leave her and heard him dress. The door to the room creaked open and she looked once more his way to catch a glimpse of him before he left again.
Widargelt turned back and fixed her with his stone gaze once more. "Rest, now."
She blinked sleepily once. He was already gone.
This Warrior of Light had done and seen so many, many things-more than almost anyone in Eorzea. But there was a reason that her journey along the way of the Monk was her favorite.