At first, G'raha was taken aback to wake up not in the Baldesion Annex. Then, looking out the window at the city skyline, he remembered: he was traveling the lands with Neyla, hearing firsthand accounts of her journeys where she had experienced them. He had thought this might never happen.
In truth, he had partially asked her to make this promise to give her hope, that she would look forward to when the Final Days were over instead of dwelling too much on the circumstances in Ultima Thule– not that he would admit that to her. G'raha would not have held it against her if she never found the time to keep her word. But, now, here they were. It was better than anything he ever could have dreamt: no longer was it a fantasy tour with his hero, but a trip with a close friend.
He wasted no time in getting ready and meeting Neyla back in the tavern proper, and discovered she had beaten him.
"Good morning," she greeted with a smile, handing him a steaming cup of coffee. "I took the liberty. I didn't know how you take it, though."
"On late nights studying, one hardly takes the time to be fussy," he admitted. He reached for a nearby sugar bowl and simply put in a couple of spoonfuls.
"Unsurprising, remembering that the Archon Loaf was standard fare."
"But such opened the door for your Mervynbread."
"That was a group effort," Neyla corrected. "I only helped here and there. But, funny you should mention it-"
At that moment, she produced two slices of the selfsame bread. "I figured we could use something to nibble on while we browse our first destination of the day: the Jeweled Crosier."
G'raha gratefully took his portion from her, and the two walked out into the brisk morning. They had barely taken two steps when they heard a voice call out.
"By the Fury, the rumors were true. Neyla Akagane, the Warrior of Light, gracing our humble city."
The pair turned to see a tall, imposing Elezen, clad in robes and armor of blue, black, and gold.
"Ser Aymeric," Neyla greeted. "How good to see you."
"And you, as always," the man replied. "You're not off saving the world somewhere?"
"I'm on a slight break, taking a friend on a sightseeing trip."
"Lovely." Aymeric turned towards G'raha. "And this friend would be?"
"Oh, forgive me," Neyla stammered. "Ser Aymeric, this is G'raha Tia of the Students of Baldesion, and a fellow Scion. G'raha, this is Aymeric de Bordel, Lord Commander of the Temple Knights, Viscount of House Borel, and Speaker of the House of Lords."
"Quite the impressive resumé," G'raha noted as he shook Aymeric's hand. True, he had one or more additional titles of his own that he could add, but they each required a good deal of context. Naturally, he had heard of Estinien's childhood friend, the commander that had worked alongside the Warrior of Light on several occasions. Historical records had portrayed him as a fierce warrior in his own right, and neglected to mention how… amicable he seemed to be.
Aymeric chuckled. "It is a bit much, all laid out like that. Yet still hardly worth comparing to the man who stood by the Warrior of Light's side in averting the Final Days. Speaking of which, it is most fortuitous that you are here. I was afraid I wouldn't find a way to reach you in time."
"In time for what? Fafnir isn't back, is it?" Neyla asked.
"Nothing like that. In fact, quite the opposite. Now that things have settled a bit, my fellow members of the House of Lords believe we should have a time of celebration. There is to be a festival here in Ishgard in a few weeks, all leading up to a ball at Bordel manor."
"A ball?"
"Yes, and I could think of no one better suited to be the guests of honor than our saviors themselves, you and the other Scions."
G'raha had the sudden image in his head of Neyla in a ballgown of her trademark shade of purple, perfectly setting off her pink eyes and hair. A surprising notion, but not at all unpleasant. The thought was suddenly spoiled with imagining Aymeric, in his finest regalia, approaching her to ask her to dance. Could he possibly be feeling…? He shook his head to clear it. Silly thought.
"Well, we're a bit spread out at the moment," G'raha explained. "But we'll try to get the message to the others."
"Wonderful. Though I completely understand if duties interfere. Well, I shan't keep you any longer, but I hope to see you anon."
With a polite nod, Aymeric turned in the direction of the Congregation and walked off. Shortly after, Neyla began leading G'raha towards the Jeweled Crosier. She didn't speak for a time.
He decided to break the silence. "I suppose Tataru will want to oversee each of our ensembles."
"I'm not sure a ball is a great idea," Neyla answered.
"Why not? It might be fun. You said yourself you wanted activities to keep your mind off Zeromus."
"You know how well the last formal event I tried to attend went. Besides… I've never danced."
"What are you talking about? I've seen you dance."
"Little jigs and harvest dances," Neyla countered. "Not fancy ballroom dances."
"You could learn." G'raha wasn't sure why he was pushing this issue.
She finally grinned. "I suppose you could teach me?"
"Well, I-" He hesitated. He hadn't thought this through.
"Your studies didn't include a master class in ballroom dancing?"
He decided to play along. "I must have been absent that day."
"That settles it," Neyla declared. "I don't know how to dance, and you can't teach me. I can't go to the ball."
"Neyla," G'raha put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. He turned her to face him and looked her in the eye. "There is no Lolorito in Ishgard. No Crystal Braves."
"I know."
"Eorzea is at peace. Not every event will end in some catastrophe."
"I know that," Neyla sighed. "It's just… Sometimes, it feels like it was only yesterday. It was bad enough that Nanamo fell, but to be torn apart from the others when I had really started to feel close to them…"
She lowered her head slightly and looked to the ground, her body beginning to shake. No doubt those memories had stirred up others in her mind, no few of which either included or would be- no, had been caused by G'raha himself. He hesitated a moment, but ultimately decided to wrap his arms around her, putting one hand in the small of her back.
"I'm sorry," she shuddered.
"Don't be," G'raha assured. "You've been through more in the span of a few years than most people experience in a lifetime. You've faced hardships and loss, and still picked yourself up to keep fighting. But you don't always have to be strong."
G'raha didn't know how long they stood there in silence, with him simply holding her. No doubt it was quite the spectacle to passersby, but he hardly cared. He would shield Neyla from prying eyes, and be there with her for as long as she needed. Finally, however, she pulled away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve.
"I don't think I've ever done anything like that," she admitted with a nervous chuckle.
"Perhaps we can put the adventure re-telling on hold for a bit," G'raha offered. "Take it easy for today."
"Well, I was looking forward to showing you one of my favorite fishing spots in Dravania while we were there. There aren't any grand stories behind it- well, at least not on an adventuring scale, but-"
"It sounds perfect. Lead on." Talk of balls could wait.
A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity. - Proverbs 17:17
*AN: So the story begins proper! I hope you all are prepared for all the fluff I can dish out... and some other surprises I have in mind as we progress. Thank you all for reading!*