Chapter Text
The night sky soars over the Crystarium once more. Emet-Selch is gone, the corrupted aether pure. She could think again. She felt like herself again - apart from the streak of white in her hair that never goes away no matter how long she grows her hair. She sits at the bar facing away from Cyella, who’s serving a rather rowdy crowd.
“Sitting all by your lonesome, Sinner?” Moireigh’s head tilts to see Granson ambling toward her. She sends him a small smile his way in return.
“I find myself at a loss of what to do now,” Moireigh taps her nails against the tankard of water she holds. Granson leans into her space, setting his hands on the bartop on either side of her. Her lips curve into a smile as he comes closer, but his eyes narrow.
“You don’t need to hide. Not with me,” Granson murmurs, mouth nearly touching hers. At his words, her smile instantly vanishes.
“I did what I came here to do. The star is safe. Dikaiosyne is gone too - The Exarch is working on a plan to help us get home, but until then…” Moireigh shrugs.
“Well, you know I planned to travel, be a sellsword - the Crystarium is no longer for me, now that I’m no longer searching for the Cardinal Virtues,” Granson takes away Moireigh’s tankard and sets it behind her as he speaks. Moireigh notices he wears a pack on his back.
“You’re leaving now?” Moireigh steels herself to say goodbye to yet another companion.
“Thought I’d start my wanderin’ around Lakeland. Wander with me, for a while,” His hand rests warm on her thigh. Moireigh’s mouth opens and shuts a few times, silent. She closes her eyes and sighs.
“I-I need to stay here,” Moireigh shifts her leg away from his hand. Granson frowns.
“I’m not asking you to forsake everything here to join me, Sinner. I know you won’t be staying here. I know you’ll go home eventually - your friends, too, back to wherever the Exarch is from, right? I’m asking you to get lost with me for a few nights. What do you say?” He gives her a smirk that makes her smile in spite of herself. She hops off the barstool which brushes her body along Granson’s. He chuckles as her tail wraps around the arm that he casually rests over her hip. His hand is dangerously close to her tail, but she finds she doesn’t mind.
“Let’s go.”
A few bells later in the deep night, they find themselves around a small fire. Moireigh stares into the flames, leaning against Granson. His arm drapes over her.
“Tell me about him,” Granson murmurs, barely loud enough to hear. Moireigh goes to turn her head to look at him in surprise, but he presses his lips to the side of her head, a quiet gesture of affection that also keeps her looking forward.
“Who?” Moireigh asks, the flames already blurring.
“All this time I hardly said her name aloud. Milinda. It hurt too much. I see when you look at me, you’ve lost people too. More than just friends and allies. I’ve poured my sordid life story out of my chest for you Sinner, and you’ve never said a word about your own losses,” Granson’s words cut through the otherwise silent night and Moireigh inhales sharply.
“Not on purpose,” Moireigh rushes to reassure him. His hand squeezes her shoulder.
“I know. Fighting Dikaiosyne with you - along with everything else we’ve shared - has freed me. I can say Milinda’s name now without feeling like my chest is being torn apart. But I look at you and I can see you’re still trapped. Wicked White, you can’t even pause to take in the victory of saving the bloody star because you’re so trapped in the lives of your past,” His hand threads through her hair and curls around the white strands that never grow out to their proper colour.
“Everyone has expectations. I’m not allowed to fall apart,” Moireigh murmurs. Granson makes an unflattering noise in the back of his throat.
“Oh yes, and the gremlins are definitely watching your every move out here,” Granson scoffs. Moireigh can all but hear his eyes rolling.
“It’s hard. To talk about him,” Moireigh’s eyes shut and she resists the urge to reach for her necklace.
“Maybe talking about them is what you need,” Granson shrugs against her.
“I don’t - where do I start?” Moireigh’s breath shudders out of her as her heart clenches painfully around the memories.
“What about his name?” Granson murmurs into her hair as the flames crackle merrily in front of them.
“Haurchefant,” Moireigh purses her lips shut immediately after uttering his name. Tears trickle down her cheeks.
“What happened?”
“He d-died saving my life,”
“Did you swear vengeance, like I did for Dikaiosyne?” Granson wonders as he pokes at the fire with a stick to make the flames lick higher.
“I did,” Moireigh sighs.
“Did it help?“
“No. It didn’t matter that I stripped Zephirin of all his bravado and left him a quivering, crying mess before I cleaved him open from neck to navel. It just left me empty, because Haurchefant was still gone,” Granson enfolds her into a tight embrace, uncaring of the tears making damp tracks down the leather he wears.
“He meant a lot to you,” Granson states the obvious as he continues to poke and prod their fire. The chill starts to creep in, and Moireigh settles even more tightly against him.
“He did. He was going to propose after- well, after,” The words push themselves from her throat, which feels tight as her tears continue to fall. Moireigh let Granson’s scent - steel, leather, and the smoke from the fire - wash over her. The faint smell of sweat from his armor steadies her too as she curls into him.
“It’s like a piece of your heart missin’ isn’t it?” Granson muses, cursing under his breath when the flame sputters and spits embers out at them. Granson stamps them out with his boot.
“The wound feels like it never goes away,” Moireigh whispers against him, so quiet that Granson nearly misses it.
“I know Sinner, I know. I’m so sorry,” Granson murmurs before chucking the stick into the flames. Moireigh’s ears flick under his chin as she hears the bright heat greedily gorge on the wood. Moireigh sighs against him as something turbulent within her settles. He did know. His hand rubs up and down her arm, both to comfort her and to ward off the night’s chill. She looks up at him, still so intent on the flames pushing back against the darkness around them. She reaches her hand up to his cheek, and he looks down at her, a warmth dancing in his eyes.
“Thank you,” Moireigh smiles at him and he tilts his head to the side.
“For what?”
“For seeing me,” She leans toward him and his dancing eyes close as their lips come together and their tongues meet languidly. This isn’t their first kiss, but at the same time, it felt like something new had grown between them. For the first time since her arrival to this blighted star, she didn’t want to go back to the Source. She wanted to stay.