You underestimate them, Lord Vauthry. They see further than you think. I have beheld it in the blood and sweat and tears of those who would sacrifice everything for a future they may never know. That their children may never know.
Any odds you could do something with Urianger and the other scions comforting a WoL (who uses it/it's if that's fine, if not they/them works too) who has been brought to an emotional breaking point over missing G'raha Tia during ShB. Who, to the WoL's knowledge was nowhere to be found in the crystal tower, and is not in the first.
(Sorry if the phrasing with this is bad I'm not fully sure how else to phrase it. I think I should include here that it'd not be all the scions at once but like, if one of them specifically noticed.)
Sticking with Urianger for this one, anon. It deserves to be fleshed out and not tacked on with other Scions (but if you want those too, please ask).
tags: angst, G'raha x WoL shipping, gn!WoL
word count: 780
Urianger can't sleep. No matter how tight he draws the curtains, no matter how far he buries himself under duvets and pillows, the ever-burning sky is just too bright. Groaning, he pushes himself up from his borrowed bed and blinks into the pale-gold clouds.
"Blasted Light," he mutters, slipping a dressing gown over his shoulders.
Urianger ties his robe and shoves his feet into a pair of slippers, then pads out into The Pendant's arched hallway. It must be past midnight, but a lonely violin melody floats up from somewhere below, slow and sweet as flowing honey. The song of a fellow night-owl, unwilling or unable to shut their eyes. Urianger sighs.
By the time he realizes his body is moving, it's too late to resist. He follows the sound down, down, called as if by sirens, until he finds its source: a single bard in an empty courtyard, taking advantage of the isolation to practice some sheet music. At the sight, Urianger is... oddly dissatisfied.
Why? he wonders. It's not like he was expecting anyone in particular. But as he turns to leave, a flash of movement catches the elezen's eye. Along the courtyard's farthest edge, tucked up on a bench, is none other than the Warrior of Light. Urianger freezes. Confusion stings at his senses, even stronger than the garish sky.
And once again, he's approaching before he can think. The Warrior perks up at the sound of his steps, shoulders stiffening as though they've been caught in some nefarious act. A pang of sympathy passes through Urianger's chest.
"I see you, too, are plagued by restlessness tonight," he offers slowly.
The Warrior's purple-ringed eyes shift to the empty space between their shoes. They gesture to the empty seat beside them. Urianger nods and settles in, and for a long moment, no one speaks. The bard plays the chorus twice, trying to correct some imperceptible flaw.
"This song," the Warrior says suddenly. "It reminds me of one back home."
Urianger hums. "Which one?"
"I don't know its name... I don't even remember the words. But I know the minstrels in Mor Dhona used to play it late at night, when it was just me and Raha-"
The Warrior pauses mid-word. Urianger steals a glance, only to find their eyes misty with tears.
"I'm sorry," they say. "I just... I miss him."
The Warrior's sorrow overflows, breaths hiccuping in their chest. Urianger freezes like a mouse in the shadow of a hawk. His heart stutters, sodden with guilt.
Godsdammit, why does he always end up here? Forced to lie, to double-cross and obfuscate in service of some grander plan, even when it hurts his friends. Why does it always have to be him?
Perhaps this is my burden, he thinks. Perhaps this is the cost of seeing ahead.
But that doesn't make it feel any better. Urianger knots his hands in his robe, hiding his whitening knuckles.
"Do not apologize," he replies. "We have all left much and more behind."
"I know," the Warrior sniffs. "It's just... G'raha said he'd be inside. I saw him go inside, but we've looked and looked for weeks, and he's nowhere."
"That does not mean that he has suffered any great misfortune. The tower is vast and esoteric; there are myriad places yet to explore."
But it is pointless, a crueler thought scolds. He has been here all along, right in front of you, and I am the reason you have not realized.
Urianger shakes the notion away.
"Gods, why is this happening?" the Warrior weeps, burying their head in their hands. "Why isn't it enough to be ripped away from home and deposited into this horrible place? Why did I have to lose him, too?"
"You have not."
"Yes, I have. Just like everything else I've ever loved."
"No," Urianger says, fiercer than he means to. "No. Once we have cleansed this benighted land and fulfilled our destiny here, we will find a way home, and you will see that not all is lost. I swear it to you."
The Warrior blinks at him, and Urianger fights the urge to wince. Has he said too much? Has his impulsive declaration invited questions he cannot answer?
But then, the Warrior wraps their arms around his shoulders and pulls, folding Urianger into a grateful embrace, and the elezen blows out a relieved sigh.
"Thanks, Urianger," they say. "You're right. As long as Raha is out there somewhere, I can't give up looking for him. I mean, what kind of hero does that?"
Urianger utters a half-hearted chuckle and pats them on the shoulder.
"No such hero as you are, my friend," he tells them.
