Moonlight pooled through the window and illuminated them in each other's arms. Menphina was spying on her handiwork and if the full glowing face of the moon in the sky was any indication, she was looking intently.
Warren looked back in quiet contemplation before shifting his gaze from one heavenly body to the next. Her face was gentle and relaxed in the weary hands of restful sleep and her arms had long since stopped squeezing against him but remained fast around his sides. The tears had ceased and Warren's heart sang songs while looking at her like that; Peaceful and innocent, a young woman basking in the glow of the moon. It was with this picture in mind that Warren struggled to quell the fires stoked within.
She'd told him, of course. He had always wanted to know whatever he could about her investigations, and she complied with his wishes possibly more intently than she would normally be permitted to speak with someone not officially Sworn. When she returned on the verge of tears, her face tense with the struggle to remain composed, he had immediately set the book down on the endtable and gone to her. He looked at her face as she slept on him and kept it framed while he remembered how she had come apart in his arms and told him of the conversation she and Alabrous Tane had that evening.
He had offered loving arms and gentle words, a kind ear to listen and warm lips to soothe. She needed him to help steady herself, and she'd cried and sobbed and poured her heart into his hands and he'd kept vigil over it as he had over her, but now that she was asleep something within him was stirring. Alabrous Tane. Conniving, insufferable rogue who laughed in the face of respect and authority. A man who listened to gil above all else.
He'd referenced that in Ul'dah, gil and power were interchangeable. He'd made clear that, regardless of your station in life, money would get you things. He'd made certain she knew that while he was spending money, to her he was mightier than the Twelve. His gil spoke for him, and it said he was master.
Not any longer.
Those days had long since passed. The woman he thought he had lorded over, had broken, did not belong to him, or any other. She had become something fierce and faithful, not despondent and miserable. Alabrous Tane thought his history would spare him the burden of needing to acknowledge who she was now.
Warren thought perhaps he needed to clarify things for Alabrous Tane.
Warren looked back in quiet contemplation before shifting his gaze from one heavenly body to the next. Her face was gentle and relaxed in the weary hands of restful sleep and her arms had long since stopped squeezing against him but remained fast around his sides. The tears had ceased and Warren's heart sang songs while looking at her like that; Peaceful and innocent, a young woman basking in the glow of the moon. It was with this picture in mind that Warren struggled to quell the fires stoked within.
She'd told him, of course. He had always wanted to know whatever he could about her investigations, and she complied with his wishes possibly more intently than she would normally be permitted to speak with someone not officially Sworn. When she returned on the verge of tears, her face tense with the struggle to remain composed, he had immediately set the book down on the endtable and gone to her. He looked at her face as she slept on him and kept it framed while he remembered how she had come apart in his arms and told him of the conversation she and Alabrous Tane had that evening.
He had offered loving arms and gentle words, a kind ear to listen and warm lips to soothe. She needed him to help steady herself, and she'd cried and sobbed and poured her heart into his hands and he'd kept vigil over it as he had over her, but now that she was asleep something within him was stirring. Alabrous Tane. Conniving, insufferable rogue who laughed in the face of respect and authority. A man who listened to gil above all else.
He'd referenced that in Ul'dah, gil and power were interchangeable. He'd made clear that, regardless of your station in life, money would get you things. He'd made certain she knew that while he was spending money, to her he was mightier than the Twelve. His gil spoke for him, and it said he was master.
Not any longer.
Those days had long since passed. The woman he thought he had lorded over, had broken, did not belong to him, or any other. She had become something fierce and faithful, not despondent and miserable. Alabrous Tane thought his history would spare him the burden of needing to acknowledge who she was now.
Warren thought perhaps he needed to clarify things for Alabrous Tane.