Stepping through a magical mirror, bound to another mirror back home, was a far more effective way to travel. That much was obvious. They had a moment of reprieve, uneventful but still strained. A chance to breathe, without anyone breathing down their necks. For once in her life, Zahra was relieved. Their forces had suffered great losses⊠and she wasnât exactly sure if they were done yet, considering some of her friends' conditions. But theyâd won. For once, it felt like they were getting to the end of saving the goddamn worldâThedas was in good hands, and everything was looking a little less bleak. Theyâd kept Corypheus from the Well and killed Marcus, striking off one of the serpentâs heads. Maybe, more than one.
There was still one other thing on her mindâsomething she was worrying about. Someone, rather. Days. Itâd taken days to see the main troupe cresting over the hill. If she had any of her nails left to chew, she wouldâve been surprised. They were just as worse for wear as their little band had been when they first stepped through the mirror. Perhaps, even moreso, from traveling so far. Sheâd spotted Asala in the distance, tending to the wounded. Hurrying among them, hands glowing. It was enough for the tension to ease from her shoulders. She was alive, dammit.
The work wasnât done. Almost always felt like there was something else to do. Theyâd need to mend each otherâs wounds, work together to recover from what theyâd just faced. She helped the wounded to Asalaâs infirmary. Those too weak or too injured to carry themselves; and there were many. Some with wounds she knew were far too grievous to recover fromâshe could recognize the dying immediately. Could tell from the pallor of their skins and glassy-eyed stare, curling into themselves, moaning. All they could offer was a comfortable place, soft words and friendly faces before they passed. Sometimes, that was enough.
War wasnât pretty.
Zahra lingered outside the infirmary and picked at the dried blood on the collar of her shirt. A mixture of dirt, sweat and the muck of battle. A few tears, here and there. Various cuts that would become new scars. Her fingers retracted and traced the wound on her face, wincing when her fingertips lingered too close. Itâd have to be tended to eventually. Fortunately, it was no longer weeping down her face. A set of bandages and sheâd be as right as rain. After that, a bath wouldâve been nice. Itâd been a few hours already and the sun was beginning to dip on the horizon, casting the skies a pastel orange, and pink. Maybe, itâd been long enough to go see her, busy as she probably was. Her heart tugged uncomfortably.
She needed to see her, after all this. Besides, she had an excuse.
The infirmary was large enough that she didnât need to knock on the door. People were coming in and out of it at a slower rate now, and by the looks of it, most of the inhabitants had already been situated in their beds; snoring softly. A moment of reprieve. She spotted Asala almost immediately. Horns jutting out behind a thick curtain of white cloth. She could almost feel the swell wash over her. A lightness. The tide, ebbing in. She was happy to see her. There was an impulsive urge to stride up to her and make herself known but she remained close to the door, shutting it softly behind her.
She had her back turned to her for a moment, speaking with a patient just above a whisper. While it was hard to pick out the words her tone was the same as it always had been when tending to the injured. Kind, soft, and encouraging. She was knelt as she spoke, a steady hand on the his shoulder. Whatever she was saying to the man seemed to have had a positive effect, as he smiled wearily, and nodded, slowly slinking down the rest of the way into his cot. Asala pulled the sterile white blanket over his shoulders and stood, finally turning around to face Zahra.
Dark circles had formed around her eyes, as they usually did when there was work to be done. Never one to rest when there was someone that needed her help, she probably didn't sleep any on the return trip. She inhaled, letting her shoulders droop for a moment and rubbed at her tired eyes. When she finally opened them, they fell upon her and the relief was outright tangible in her body language. She seemed to sink in on herself as a long drawn out breath escaped her lips. "Zee," she said quietly.
She didn't wait for Zahra to cross the distance between them and instead deftly maneuvered the cots set up on the infirmary's floor herself. She stopped herself short in front of her, the relief causing Asala's eyes to mist slightly. She looked Zahra up and down for a moment before she shook her head and quickly enveloped her in a hug. "I was... I was so worried," she murmured.
Zahra watched from the doorway. Admired, more like. Sheâd witnessed different flavours of kindness over the years, particularly since joining the Inquisitionâeach one was enviable, appreciated, if not a little uncomfortable. But hers was pure in a way she couldnât bear, sometimes. She leaned her shoulder into the doors frame and strained her ears for her voice; soft as silk and sweet as honey. No wonder she was so revered in Skyhold. There was a saying about bedside manners and ability in spades; some people were lacking in either department⊠but she, she resonated with people in ways she could never dream to. Made them feel safe, secured. Like theyâd be just fine, in her capable hands.
A small smile pulled on her lips as she watched her pull the blanket up to his shoulders. Tucking him like a mum mightâve. Though it shouldnât have, it surprised her when she finally straightened her shoulders and turned towards the door, finally seeing her standing there, smiling at her like an idiot. Caught in the act. Lingering in the doorway like some weirdo. Seeing her face, however, was worth looking a little strange. Tired as she looked, always tending to others before tending to herself. It felt like coming home, seeing her, here. Alive and well.
If you love the girl, then just love her. Maker damn the rest.
Not exactly what Cyrus had told her, but it rang just as true. In her head, in her heart. She pushed away from the door and scratched at the back of her neck, âHey there.â Her voice felt quiet to her ears; without itâs usual edge. She felt softer, these days. Around here, especially. It was Asala who quickly closed the distance between them, navigating between cots as if it were a sea and she, a ship. She only had enough time to drop her hand back to her side, suddenly embarrassed. By her relief. By the tears welling in her eyes, so sincere that it made her ache. A moment later, and she was swooped up into a tight hug.
She fell in love with her like a natural disaster. In that moment. In many moments, she supposed. Furious, helpless, in her arms. So much smaller, it almost made her laugh. But, sheâd never felt small with her. Ever. Like lightning striking the ground; a fiery spark, a crash, a sudden flood of knowing and wanting and needing. A laugh bubbled out of her mouth and into Asalaâs shoulder; weak and wobbly and probably a little strained. Not quite a sob, because it was wrestled past a smile that made her eyes water. âYou were worried,â she breathed out and broke free from her arms. Only far enough so that her hands could find her cheeks, keeping her in place. Anchored. âI didnât see you for days. I didnât know ifâ... I was waiting and waiting.â
With reddening cheeks and internal curse, Zahra surged forward and sealed her lips against hers; soft and sweet, just like her. A kiss that left her knees wobbly and her heart hammering in her ears. Asala was clever and bright and beautiful. Far more. She deserved a lot of things. Good things. And even if she didnât fit beside her, she wanted to.
The suddenness of it caught Asala by surprise, and the tiny jerk and widening of eyes were anything to go by. The expression did not last long, and soon the resistance in Asala's frame simply melted away, hers eyes closing and the hug tightening Zee's waist as she leaned into the kiss. The moment stretched on for what felt like eternity and at the end of it, Asala pulled back just enough for Zee to see that elated smile on her lips and the joy dancing in her eyes.
It almost appeared like Asala would go in for another one, but a coughing off to their side interrupted the thought.
"Ahem," the voice said, revealing an Inquisition soldier sitting upright in his cot. He wore a grin and though a bandage covered his head and one eye, the other that remained wrinkled in humor. He hadn't been the only one to notice them either, as a good dozen or so pair of eyes watched them with various smiles.
"Oh." Asala delivered, a cherry blush rapidly encapsulated her face.
That was enough to melt away all of Zahraâs doubts. The look on her face; genuine, happy. Too much for her. Too good for her. She was overwhelming in ways she couldnât quite wrap her head around but in this moment it didnât really matter, nothing did. The tightness in her chest squeezed and loosened and she swore, she swore all she felt was warmth. How come sheâd never been lucky enough to meet someone like her before? It was just something else she was thankful for. She couldnât temper her smile this time, couldnât keep the grin off.
Expectant, eager. When no lips graced her mouth once more, and a light cough came from one of the cots, she cracked her eyes open. Half-leaned in and still holding onto Asalaâs face. She blinked. Once. Twice. Her hand finally slipped back from the nape of her neck and rested over her collarbone. A laugh bubbled out because of course sheâd find this hilarious; how sheâd pick the worst place to do this, of all things. In a public place, a place where she was working on patients. Obviously⊠they hadnât been all asleep, as sheâd assumed.
âMind if I steal her away for a moment?â There was a lightness to her voice, assured. Thick eyebrows rose with the inquiry. She stepped slightly away from her, breaking the embrace. Though, her hand soon found Asalaâs and she gave it a squeeze, warm and soft. Not even she was bold enough to confess in front of a crowd. She still felt the redness burning at her ears, even as she tried dutifully to ignore it. She glanced at Asala sidelong and awaited her answer.
The man voiced no answer, but a wave of his hand and the way he began to make himself comfortable in his cot was one enough. The other patients who'd been watching began to follow suit, turning their attentions elsewhere, all but the most curious.
"Hmm," Asala hummed. The grip she had on Zahra's hand did not relent, even as she used it to gently pull her toward the door. She worked through the initial embarrassment and though a blush still took up the lion's share of her face, there was still enough room for a playful smile to take residence. There was a sureness there, and a confidence in the way she led Zahra away. Without a doubt, she wanted this, and no amount of watching eyes would dissuade her. "You already have," she answered for them as they passed through the exit.
A respectful audience, indeed. At least savvy enough not to force Zahra to sweep down on one knee and profess her undying love while they cackled in the background. Itâd be a sight to see. Sounded almost like a troupe drama. One sheâd seen in large cities, showcasing actors with painted faces and eccentricities she could never top. Fortunately enough for her, the Inquisition soldier leaned back against his pillow and looked as if he was trying unsuccessfully to smother the smile on his face.
Busy as she was, tired as she was, Asala chose to spare time for her. She didnât bother trying to fight the grin wobbling across her dusky features, or the fact that she felt like her hand was clammy. So unlike her. When she swiveled her head to look at her properly, her doubts seemed to gutter out. A candle, blown. Or ignited. Who could bloody tell anymoreâbut she was pulling them towards the doorway and she was only too happy to oblige, twining her fingers through hers. A tangle. A pleased hum sounded as they crossed through the threshold and cut abruptly off.
This woman would be the death of her.
âWho knew you had such a sly tongue.â As soon as the warm breeze graced their cheeks, Zahra took the lead and pulled them towards the back of the infirmary. At least then, theyâd have some semblance of privacy. She didnât let go of her hand. Didnât want to, really. Though, she turned to face her and steeled herself. Sheâd imagined this moment before, obsessed over it after sheâd spoken to Cyrus. How would she do it properly? What would she say? She knew every lady-tested technique, and time-honored trick in the book for things that didnât truly matter. About making people see stars, of nights spent with mouths tracing collarbones, until they became only a tale told in a tavern: a good time. But words like this? The kind that made her insides twist into knots, because they were alien and new⊠she didnât know how to wrestle those things from her mouth.
This mattered. This was important. She wanted to do this properly. Wanted together and us to mean something. âI sâpose I should apologize about the whole⊠boat thing,â she began, tangling her free hand into her curly hair. âWhen youâŠâ there was a pause, before she tried again. This time, her grin drew into a smile. Embarrassed, but determined. âI always thought that you were like an island, yâknow? One that I had no business going to, even though I wanted nothing more. I thought you were something Iâd ruin. Because of who I was, because of the things Iâd done.â Another breath came from her nose, before she hook her head. âA wise man told me that the decision wasnât mine to make, and I think he had a point.â
âI was happy when you kissed me on the lake. It mattered.â She gave her hand another squeeze, and looked up into her face. Gentle, kind. Home. âI like who I am with you. I like who I am when weâre together.â A breath, because her head felt like it was spinning like a top. âI, uh, Iâve never done something like this before. Not really. But with you, I do. Want this, whatever this is."
"So do I," Asala answered, taking both of Zahra's hands into both of hers, and drawing them up to her chest. The blush still graced her features, and had to began to bleed into her tapered ears, but now that they were out of sight of prying eyes she seemed more comfortable, and certainly less nervous. "You are... You are so bright Zee," she said, a smile blossoming on her lips. "You are so brave and adventurous-- everything that I am not, but you... You make me want to be these things."
She laughed after that, light and airy, and a little embarrassed as well. "I am sorry if that makes no sense, but... I don't care," she said, bringing Zahra's hands up to her cheeks. "I've never had someone make me feel like this before, that makes me want to be the kind of bold I've never been before," she said with another laugh. "You make me feel..."
She let her hands fall back down away from her face, as she thought about it, about the word she wanted to use. It didn't take her long to find it, and her eyes sparkled once she did.
"You make me feel free, kadan."
If Zahra could feel anymore, she was sure sheâd burst. She wasnât sure what sheâd expected. Maybe, a small part of her thought that this, here, was an impossibility for her. That Asala would remain far, far out of her reach, and sheâd be doomed to look from afar. Sheâd never been so happy to be wrong. She wanted to be proved wrong again and again until she felt deserving of someone like her. The kindest person she knew. Blindingly so.
This woman was better than any treasure sheâd ever find.
âThen I am yours,â she announced into the night with a grin that crinkled her eyes, laughter pitching into a softer cadence. Loud, intentionally so. If she could've screamed it from the ramparts, she would have. Down to her very core, she meant it. Never had she anchored herself to another. Never had she found someone worth doing so. But this felt like coming home. Not an end, but a beginning. She was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. She brought her hands back up to her face, and tugged her down to kiss her properly.
There was still one other thing on her mindâsomething she was worrying about. Someone, rather. Days. Itâd taken days to see the main troupe cresting over the hill. If she had any of her nails left to chew, she wouldâve been surprised. They were just as worse for wear as their little band had been when they first stepped through the mirror. Perhaps, even moreso, from traveling so far. Sheâd spotted Asala in the distance, tending to the wounded. Hurrying among them, hands glowing. It was enough for the tension to ease from her shoulders. She was alive, dammit.
The work wasnât done. Almost always felt like there was something else to do. Theyâd need to mend each otherâs wounds, work together to recover from what theyâd just faced. She helped the wounded to Asalaâs infirmary. Those too weak or too injured to carry themselves; and there were many. Some with wounds she knew were far too grievous to recover fromâshe could recognize the dying immediately. Could tell from the pallor of their skins and glassy-eyed stare, curling into themselves, moaning. All they could offer was a comfortable place, soft words and friendly faces before they passed. Sometimes, that was enough.
War wasnât pretty.
Zahra lingered outside the infirmary and picked at the dried blood on the collar of her shirt. A mixture of dirt, sweat and the muck of battle. A few tears, here and there. Various cuts that would become new scars. Her fingers retracted and traced the wound on her face, wincing when her fingertips lingered too close. Itâd have to be tended to eventually. Fortunately, it was no longer weeping down her face. A set of bandages and sheâd be as right as rain. After that, a bath wouldâve been nice. Itâd been a few hours already and the sun was beginning to dip on the horizon, casting the skies a pastel orange, and pink. Maybe, itâd been long enough to go see her, busy as she probably was. Her heart tugged uncomfortably.
She needed to see her, after all this. Besides, she had an excuse.
The infirmary was large enough that she didnât need to knock on the door. People were coming in and out of it at a slower rate now, and by the looks of it, most of the inhabitants had already been situated in their beds; snoring softly. A moment of reprieve. She spotted Asala almost immediately. Horns jutting out behind a thick curtain of white cloth. She could almost feel the swell wash over her. A lightness. The tide, ebbing in. She was happy to see her. There was an impulsive urge to stride up to her and make herself known but she remained close to the door, shutting it softly behind her.
She had her back turned to her for a moment, speaking with a patient just above a whisper. While it was hard to pick out the words her tone was the same as it always had been when tending to the injured. Kind, soft, and encouraging. She was knelt as she spoke, a steady hand on the his shoulder. Whatever she was saying to the man seemed to have had a positive effect, as he smiled wearily, and nodded, slowly slinking down the rest of the way into his cot. Asala pulled the sterile white blanket over his shoulders and stood, finally turning around to face Zahra.
Dark circles had formed around her eyes, as they usually did when there was work to be done. Never one to rest when there was someone that needed her help, she probably didn't sleep any on the return trip. She inhaled, letting her shoulders droop for a moment and rubbed at her tired eyes. When she finally opened them, they fell upon her and the relief was outright tangible in her body language. She seemed to sink in on herself as a long drawn out breath escaped her lips. "Zee," she said quietly.
She didn't wait for Zahra to cross the distance between them and instead deftly maneuvered the cots set up on the infirmary's floor herself. She stopped herself short in front of her, the relief causing Asala's eyes to mist slightly. She looked Zahra up and down for a moment before she shook her head and quickly enveloped her in a hug. "I was... I was so worried," she murmured.
Zahra watched from the doorway. Admired, more like. Sheâd witnessed different flavours of kindness over the years, particularly since joining the Inquisitionâeach one was enviable, appreciated, if not a little uncomfortable. But hers was pure in a way she couldnât bear, sometimes. She leaned her shoulder into the doors frame and strained her ears for her voice; soft as silk and sweet as honey. No wonder she was so revered in Skyhold. There was a saying about bedside manners and ability in spades; some people were lacking in either department⊠but she, she resonated with people in ways she could never dream to. Made them feel safe, secured. Like theyâd be just fine, in her capable hands.
A small smile pulled on her lips as she watched her pull the blanket up to his shoulders. Tucking him like a mum mightâve. Though it shouldnât have, it surprised her when she finally straightened her shoulders and turned towards the door, finally seeing her standing there, smiling at her like an idiot. Caught in the act. Lingering in the doorway like some weirdo. Seeing her face, however, was worth looking a little strange. Tired as she looked, always tending to others before tending to herself. It felt like coming home, seeing her, here. Alive and well.
If you love the girl, then just love her. Maker damn the rest.
Not exactly what Cyrus had told her, but it rang just as true. In her head, in her heart. She pushed away from the door and scratched at the back of her neck, âHey there.â Her voice felt quiet to her ears; without itâs usual edge. She felt softer, these days. Around here, especially. It was Asala who quickly closed the distance between them, navigating between cots as if it were a sea and she, a ship. She only had enough time to drop her hand back to her side, suddenly embarrassed. By her relief. By the tears welling in her eyes, so sincere that it made her ache. A moment later, and she was swooped up into a tight hug.
She fell in love with her like a natural disaster. In that moment. In many moments, she supposed. Furious, helpless, in her arms. So much smaller, it almost made her laugh. But, sheâd never felt small with her. Ever. Like lightning striking the ground; a fiery spark, a crash, a sudden flood of knowing and wanting and needing. A laugh bubbled out of her mouth and into Asalaâs shoulder; weak and wobbly and probably a little strained. Not quite a sob, because it was wrestled past a smile that made her eyes water. âYou were worried,â she breathed out and broke free from her arms. Only far enough so that her hands could find her cheeks, keeping her in place. Anchored. âI didnât see you for days. I didnât know ifâ... I was waiting and waiting.â
With reddening cheeks and internal curse, Zahra surged forward and sealed her lips against hers; soft and sweet, just like her. A kiss that left her knees wobbly and her heart hammering in her ears. Asala was clever and bright and beautiful. Far more. She deserved a lot of things. Good things. And even if she didnât fit beside her, she wanted to.
The suddenness of it caught Asala by surprise, and the tiny jerk and widening of eyes were anything to go by. The expression did not last long, and soon the resistance in Asala's frame simply melted away, hers eyes closing and the hug tightening Zee's waist as she leaned into the kiss. The moment stretched on for what felt like eternity and at the end of it, Asala pulled back just enough for Zee to see that elated smile on her lips and the joy dancing in her eyes.
It almost appeared like Asala would go in for another one, but a coughing off to their side interrupted the thought.
"Ahem," the voice said, revealing an Inquisition soldier sitting upright in his cot. He wore a grin and though a bandage covered his head and one eye, the other that remained wrinkled in humor. He hadn't been the only one to notice them either, as a good dozen or so pair of eyes watched them with various smiles.
"Oh." Asala delivered, a cherry blush rapidly encapsulated her face.
That was enough to melt away all of Zahraâs doubts. The look on her face; genuine, happy. Too much for her. Too good for her. She was overwhelming in ways she couldnât quite wrap her head around but in this moment it didnât really matter, nothing did. The tightness in her chest squeezed and loosened and she swore, she swore all she felt was warmth. How come sheâd never been lucky enough to meet someone like her before? It was just something else she was thankful for. She couldnât temper her smile this time, couldnât keep the grin off.
Expectant, eager. When no lips graced her mouth once more, and a light cough came from one of the cots, she cracked her eyes open. Half-leaned in and still holding onto Asalaâs face. She blinked. Once. Twice. Her hand finally slipped back from the nape of her neck and rested over her collarbone. A laugh bubbled out because of course sheâd find this hilarious; how sheâd pick the worst place to do this, of all things. In a public place, a place where she was working on patients. Obviously⊠they hadnât been all asleep, as sheâd assumed.
âMind if I steal her away for a moment?â There was a lightness to her voice, assured. Thick eyebrows rose with the inquiry. She stepped slightly away from her, breaking the embrace. Though, her hand soon found Asalaâs and she gave it a squeeze, warm and soft. Not even she was bold enough to confess in front of a crowd. She still felt the redness burning at her ears, even as she tried dutifully to ignore it. She glanced at Asala sidelong and awaited her answer.
The man voiced no answer, but a wave of his hand and the way he began to make himself comfortable in his cot was one enough. The other patients who'd been watching began to follow suit, turning their attentions elsewhere, all but the most curious.
"Hmm," Asala hummed. The grip she had on Zahra's hand did not relent, even as she used it to gently pull her toward the door. She worked through the initial embarrassment and though a blush still took up the lion's share of her face, there was still enough room for a playful smile to take residence. There was a sureness there, and a confidence in the way she led Zahra away. Without a doubt, she wanted this, and no amount of watching eyes would dissuade her. "You already have," she answered for them as they passed through the exit.
A respectful audience, indeed. At least savvy enough not to force Zahra to sweep down on one knee and profess her undying love while they cackled in the background. Itâd be a sight to see. Sounded almost like a troupe drama. One sheâd seen in large cities, showcasing actors with painted faces and eccentricities she could never top. Fortunately enough for her, the Inquisition soldier leaned back against his pillow and looked as if he was trying unsuccessfully to smother the smile on his face.
Busy as she was, tired as she was, Asala chose to spare time for her. She didnât bother trying to fight the grin wobbling across her dusky features, or the fact that she felt like her hand was clammy. So unlike her. When she swiveled her head to look at her properly, her doubts seemed to gutter out. A candle, blown. Or ignited. Who could bloody tell anymoreâbut she was pulling them towards the doorway and she was only too happy to oblige, twining her fingers through hers. A tangle. A pleased hum sounded as they crossed through the threshold and cut abruptly off.
This woman would be the death of her.
âWho knew you had such a sly tongue.â As soon as the warm breeze graced their cheeks, Zahra took the lead and pulled them towards the back of the infirmary. At least then, theyâd have some semblance of privacy. She didnât let go of her hand. Didnât want to, really. Though, she turned to face her and steeled herself. Sheâd imagined this moment before, obsessed over it after sheâd spoken to Cyrus. How would she do it properly? What would she say? She knew every lady-tested technique, and time-honored trick in the book for things that didnât truly matter. About making people see stars, of nights spent with mouths tracing collarbones, until they became only a tale told in a tavern: a good time. But words like this? The kind that made her insides twist into knots, because they were alien and new⊠she didnât know how to wrestle those things from her mouth.
This mattered. This was important. She wanted to do this properly. Wanted together and us to mean something. âI sâpose I should apologize about the whole⊠boat thing,â she began, tangling her free hand into her curly hair. âWhen youâŠâ there was a pause, before she tried again. This time, her grin drew into a smile. Embarrassed, but determined. âI always thought that you were like an island, yâknow? One that I had no business going to, even though I wanted nothing more. I thought you were something Iâd ruin. Because of who I was, because of the things Iâd done.â Another breath came from her nose, before she hook her head. âA wise man told me that the decision wasnât mine to make, and I think he had a point.â
âI was happy when you kissed me on the lake. It mattered.â She gave her hand another squeeze, and looked up into her face. Gentle, kind. Home. âI like who I am with you. I like who I am when weâre together.â A breath, because her head felt like it was spinning like a top. âI, uh, Iâve never done something like this before. Not really. But with you, I do. Want this, whatever this is."
"So do I," Asala answered, taking both of Zahra's hands into both of hers, and drawing them up to her chest. The blush still graced her features, and had to began to bleed into her tapered ears, but now that they were out of sight of prying eyes she seemed more comfortable, and certainly less nervous. "You are... You are so bright Zee," she said, a smile blossoming on her lips. "You are so brave and adventurous-- everything that I am not, but you... You make me want to be these things."
She laughed after that, light and airy, and a little embarrassed as well. "I am sorry if that makes no sense, but... I don't care," she said, bringing Zahra's hands up to her cheeks. "I've never had someone make me feel like this before, that makes me want to be the kind of bold I've never been before," she said with another laugh. "You make me feel..."
She let her hands fall back down away from her face, as she thought about it, about the word she wanted to use. It didn't take her long to find it, and her eyes sparkled once she did.
"You make me feel free, kadan."
If Zahra could feel anymore, she was sure sheâd burst. She wasnât sure what sheâd expected. Maybe, a small part of her thought that this, here, was an impossibility for her. That Asala would remain far, far out of her reach, and sheâd be doomed to look from afar. Sheâd never been so happy to be wrong. She wanted to be proved wrong again and again until she felt deserving of someone like her. The kindest person she knew. Blindingly so.
This woman was better than any treasure sheâd ever find.
âThen I am yours,â she announced into the night with a grin that crinkled her eyes, laughter pitching into a softer cadence. Loud, intentionally so. If she could've screamed it from the ramparts, she would have. Down to her very core, she meant it. Never had she anchored herself to another. Never had she found someone worth doing so. But this felt like coming home. Not an end, but a beginning. She was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. She brought her hands back up to her face, and tugged her down to kiss her properly.