Chapter Text
Old Sharlayan is a picture of beauty in the evening glow.
The sun sets behind the Northern Empty, bathing the city in a crimson gleam. The winds carry the murmurs of evening conversation as scholars and residents alike retire to their homes or to the local bars for an evening of merriment. The gentle plucks of a guitar dance upon the breeze as a bard performs a melodious tune in the Agora.
And G’raha realizes he had never fully appreciated the splendour of the land he called home until his sojourn in the city with the woman he loved at his side.
It is intoxicating to be by her side.
They are seated on a bench at the precipice of Tranquility, with naught more than the gentle sound of waves lapping against the shore as company, yet all he could think of is her.
G’raha had always known Nalika to be a vision of stunning beauty, yet amidst the crepuscular glow of the sun disappearing behind the horizon, she is divinity incarnate.
Twilight kisses her radiant hair, falling over her shoulders like a sienna waterfall. The lavender scent of her perfume intoxicates his every sense. Her rose-tinted lips beg for him to fall upon them.
She shifts, ever so slightly, gracing him with the gaze of her ocean eyes – and oh, how the very stars dance within them like diamonds upon the sea.
“Raha,” she says, her voice a honeyed melody, “There is something I must ask you.”
Every word she speaks is more lovely than any song.
Anything. Anything she could ever want, she would have it. Should she ask for the moon, he would tear down the very sky for her. Should she wish for the world, he would gift her all upon this star and more.
If only to be rewarded with the gift of her smile, a blessing for which he would fall to his knees and revere until the end of days.
“Yes, my love,” he answers, “Anything for you.”
An uneasy glint dances in her eyes. Her lips part once more, and he wishes with every ilm of his being to kiss the apprehension from her lips.
She speaks, and it is nothing short of divine.
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Oh, how he would –
…
…
…what?
“I… I beg your pardon?”
“A worm, Raha. Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
She speaks with a firm confidence in her voice, and it does little more than confound him that much more.
G’raha chokes. His mind short circuits. Words spill from his lips before he could even comprehend what he is saying.
“Well, I – uh – would… well, you see… am I also a worm in this scenario?”
She wrinkles her nose, her features souring in disgust.
“What kind of a nonsensical question is that?”
“What kind of a question is ‘Would you still love me if I was a worm’!?”
“But would you?”
She leans forward – barely an ilm from his face – her eyes wide and agitated, as if he alone held the very secrets of the star between his lips. His heart beats out of time, anxious sweat dotting his forehead. He blinks, almost chokes, as her eyes pierce his own – as if her heart would shatter then and there should he speak erroneously.
The amalgamation of literal despair is nothing compared to this.
And yet, G’raha finds the strength to do little else but laugh.
He laughs as he plants a featherlight kiss on her nose. He laughs as she blinks and pulls away, a look of utter confusion in her eyes. He laughs as he puts his arm around her, regaling in the sheer absurdity of it all – for such a question was so undoubtedly her, he was surprised he was taken aback by it in the first place.
“Nalika, I will love you until the very end of days, and unto eternity thereafter.”
This seems to appease her fears.
The corners of her lips curve into a tiny smile as she rests her head against his shoulder. He breathes a long sigh of relief, feeling as if he had narrowly averted the next calamity.
And yet, as he squeezes her closer and feels the soft crown of her head bury into his neck, he raises his eyes to the lovely stars dotting the skies above, and thinks to himself…
Yes. Yes, he would still love her if she was a worm.