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It's strange, G'raha thinks, to watch Viktor change in front of his very eyes - he doesn't quite understand what he's seeing, what it means, but in mere moments the man standing in front of him is every inch the Warrior of Light, completely composed, and there's so little hint of the expression that crossed his face before that G'raha almost wonders if he imagined it. Wishful thinking, perhaps, that Viktor might recognise him and he wouldn't need to confess?
He wants to ask, but he daren't - not in front of onlookers, at any rate - so instead he just smiles and nods when Viktor echoes his name and tries not to swoon at the sound of it like some over-eager fan.
Even if that's exactly what he is, in some ways, even after so much time spent with him.
He has to lift a hand to stifle his laugh as Viktor stumbles over his response, earning another disapproving look. He knows he's being too casual, too familiar, but he can't stop himself - he already knows it's a fool's errand, trying to stay aloof and in control as the Crystal Exarch didn't exactly last so there's no point trying it as the Prince of Allag either.
"Indeed," he agrees "I hope we can learn much from one another."
At least that's the proper thing to say, but he ruins it by laughing again - this time he doesn't even try to stifle it, chuckling lightly at the comment and shaking his head with a smile.
"Blessedly, no. Many of those who have come with me are engaging in various talks here in Ul'dah, I will have a much smaller group of attendants travelling with us, but rest assured I am the only one whose safety you need concern yourself with."
He'd wanted to travel with Viktor alone, but that had apparently been unthinkable, so he'd wittled the actual group down as much as he could possbly manage.
It feels like a lie after losing so much so quickly. But his friends had coached him, advised him against showing weakness or being too honest. An unknown nation at their doorstep, one claiming to be Allag, a civilization known mostly for its violent starring role in Hydaelyn's history. Even Viktor had understood right away that confidence and caution would be key.
Still, this Allagan prince laughs and smiles so easily. Like a friend. Viktor turns away to look at the flat-topped stone buildings surrounding them, trying to escape the growing tightness in his chest. "Er--can you get away? From your handl--your party, I mean. For a walk around Vesper Bay." He sweeps a red-sleeved arm out, gesturing toward the marbled square. "I know this place well. A good start to your tour of Thanalan."
"I'm sure I will." G'raha agrees, pleasant and genuine. He has nothing but faith in Viktor's abilities - he's seen them in action. If asked, of course, he can fall back on the Warrior of Light's reputation
The question has him sneaking a glance over to the assembled entourage, realising that they've mostly been drawn into conversations about accommodation and itineraries and transport and therefore are paying less attention to their prince than they probably should be. He glances back at Viktor with a grin.
"If we go now." He says. It isn't that they'd stop him necessarily, but they'd certainly want someone to accompany him, and he'd rather take the opportunity to spend some time alone with Viktor. He isn't sure how often those chances will come along on this trip, so he'll take them where he can.
The promise of excitement has its usual invigorating effect. Viktor moves like a spring loosely coiled, his paces half-bounding away from the crowded ferry. One, two, three steps away, he pauses and turns back to make sure his new charge is following. Already, that Warrior of Light persona is giving way, and just Viktor shines through. A wiry man, tall as a palm and dressed, as always, in the vibrant red-and-white colors of a healer, even with that ax strapped to his back.
"The way the sea and the karst meet here..." he inhales, the salt, the sea, the earthy smell of damp rock all rushing to greet him. "It makes Vesper Bay feel always like the start of an adventure."
A scholar might, at this point, have launched into a spiel about the history or architecture of Vesper Bay and Horizon. A better tour guide would've pointed out one of the market stalls or talked up the menu at the Pissed Pieste. Viktor is neither of those things. He fixes his attention on G'raha, and tries not to search his fine features for things he knows aren't there.
"What are you most looking forward to seeing?"
G'raha stifles another laugh - this time it's not propiety he cares about but about being too loud and drawing attention - and nods.
"Let's indeed." He agrees, glancing over his shoulder once more to make sure he isn't being watched and then scampering after Viktor - between his quick pace and taller stature, G'raha needs to almost run to keep up, but he's certainly not complaining about it.
He catches up easily enough and grins up at Viktor, already feeling the thrill of being around him, of getting to see the real man behind the legend - he's caught glimpses of it enough back on the First, but that doesn't make him any less addicted to seeing it. He, too, is allowing himself to be a little more himself, instead of the serious Crystal Exarch with the weight of the world upon his shoulders.
"Well, perhaps this is the start of an adventure." He says with a smile, catching himself before he says something obvious about wanting to go on an adventure with him.
Catches himself, too, before he answers Viktor's question with you.
"I've read so many stories, I hardly know where to start," he admits "Where is your favourite place?"
"Quite so," he agreed, wondering if it had been much the same for the man across from him. "Veena are more lenient than Rava with their rules regarding the parting and subsequent return of their own. Without the Wood whispering to their ears, I wonder if Viis carry those same traditions as well."
Theo was saying a lot in not so many words. Had he been born Veena, not Rava, he might have been able to come and go from his home. The core of issue from where his present mood derives from revolved around family in general. To the Rava, anyone who left might as well be dead. Theo in his earlier years bore witness to such grieving. He wondered if the Wood wailed alongside his sisters the night he stepped foot out of Golmore.
"I think I understand." G'raha says quietly. To be unable to return to your home... yes, he does understand that. Though he had been young when he left, and he had made a new home for himself in Sharlayan, he still felt an echo of what Theo must be experiencing, especially when he had repeated the process all over again in coming to the First. His exile was of his own making, this time, since his plan to return the scions would not allow him to return as well, but he couldn't say he didn't regret knowing he'd never look upon his home again.
If Fanow bore such resemblance to Theo's home, he can understand how that might have brought such a feeling rushing to the surface.
"Is there aught I can do for you?" He offers then, unable to help himself "We perhaps have some time before we must continue our mission, if you wanted to spend more time with them?" He isn't sure if that would help or not, but it's worth reminding him it's an option, he thinks.
"That is inevitable, I think, with how things are," Theo mused.
They would be traveling back and forth from that location for a while yet. It wasn't as though no one ever retraced steps or failed to check in upon friends and allies made. Theo would have to adjust to the feeling.
"This will pass. Looking at all of the Viis only made my thoughts stray towards the family that no longer is."
He knows he should weave the thread of this conversation into something more useful — talk that might tease out Allag's true agenda, its renewed interest in Eorzea now — but, he doesn't expect it to hurt as much as it does, talking of new adventures with someone.
It feels a bit like pressing a still-purpling bruise, but his smile remains — he's well practiced at that. What he can't help is his mind, drifting again to a crystal statue in silent vigil a world away, to the promise that had died on lips turned to blue stone. Silence slips in, lingering a few beats too long before Viktor catches himself staring again at G'raha's mouth. "Sorry. It's just that--" How stupid. Yes, that'd go over well. There's this fellow I'm still getting over, you see. Centuries old. From another dimension. Fancied him quite a bit, even after he'd turned to stone. And you, strange Prince of a Foreign Nation, sort of remind me of him. This stone man whose real name and face I didn't even know. Viktor slides his palm across his face as a new realization strikes him. "--Matron's teats! I haven't even told you my name. Viktor. It's--you can call me Viktor. Or, Warrior of Light, if you really, really want to stick to a title. But, that's a real mouthful."
"I suppose it is." G'raha agrees - no doubt there would be more they could learn from Fanow, at the very least, with ruins still unexplored. He wonders if he should offer the opposite, instead - make sure it is the other scions who are sent there whenever there is need of it, so Theo can avoid the distraction of painful memories.
He decides for the moment to say nothing of it, to let Theo make the decision for himself - though he'll certainly be watching closely the next time a visit is required, making sure it is not overtaxing.
"It is hardly surprising that they have." He nods "I'm sorry if that has brought you any pain, my friend, even if it is pain that will pass."
Another quiet laugh, more free now he's out from under the watchful eye of his entourage, and a soft smile on his face as he listens to Viktor describe his favourite place.
"It sounds wonderful, I look forward to it."
Eorzea through Viktor's eyes, that's what G'raha wants to see, even if he has to ride the length and breadth of the land on the back of a chocobo to see it. Not that he has anything against chocobos, to be fair.
His gaze strays away from Viktor to look around, only to realise that the silence has stretched on longer than he would have expected, and he glances round to find Viktor's eyes on his lips. Is it a coincidence, to find him staring at the only part of his face he has actually seen before, or is it...
There's something about the way he trails off that has G'raha opening his mouth to speak, to say... what? He still doesn't know how to broach the subject, how to ask the question that's burning on his mind. Before he can manage a sound, however, Viktor is bringing a hand to his face and interrupting with an exclamation that makes G'raha bite his lip to keep from smiling.
"I did already know that," he offers gently - and not just because they've already met, it is actually information he was given before they arrived "but glad am I to have the confirmation that you don't wish me to stand on ceremony. I'd much prefer to call you Viktor."
He tips his chin up to take in the scenery he knows so well. To get himself back on track. Viktor strolls toward the square -- the best place to watch merchants and adventurers come and go. Here, sun glints prettily off white and green stone. "I grew up in this area. Back then, it was just the ferry and a whole lot of sand. Couldn't wait to escape."
Beneath the outrageous statue of Lolorito, Viktor stops. Good-natured, he asks, "What about you? Er, what's your home like?" He imagines, briefly, the princeling ruling from some idyllic floating fortress, Azys Lla with better weather and (maybe) fewer shackled dragons. "Were you itching to get away, too?"
"So I have heard." G'raha says with a smile - he's seen it, too, but while he wants to tell Viktor the truth, he also doesn't want to drop it in such a casual way. At least, that's how he justifies the lie to himself, trying to stave off the guilt that lingers beneath the surface.
"Ah, yes, the call of adventure." He observes with a smile, wishing there was a non-weird way to ask more about Viktor's childhood, about his life before the stories. G'raha knows the man better than most who only know him by reputation, but there's still so much more he wants to learn. He might be in awe of the viera's accomplishments, but he likes the man behind them as well.
For a moment, when the question comes, G'raha almost describes the Crystarium - he'd been there so long it felt more home than even Allag, and this journey came so soon after returning that he's barely had time to reaquaint himself with the place he grew up.
"Allag is... beautiful, and bright. I hope perhaps you will have a chance to see it one day." He is proud of his home, even if he's more proud of the Crystarium, and he would like to take Viktor there - though that probably has more to do with how he feels about Viktor than how he feels about Allag.
"I confess, I spent much of my childhood reading stories of heroes and adventure, I always longed for an adventure of my own... unfortunately it is somewhat frowned upon for a prince to take up such a life." Not that it had entirely stopped him, though his time in the First was hardly the same as becoming a wandering adventurer in the manner of the Warrior of Light.
Whether felling primals or ambiguously advocating for abdication on a whim, Viktor has a knack for making the impossible sound far too easy. He'd been that way on the First, too. So certain, in the face of so much tragedy, that there was always a path forward to be found. This time, at least, he seems to realize that what he's suggesting is rather impossible.
"We'll get you at least most of an adventure here in Eorzea," he says lightly, a little teasing.
He couldn't keep his promise to the Exarch, but perhaps it is a gift he can offer to someone else. Someone who, it seems, is similarly bound by obligation. Viktor tells himself that's it, and not that the prince reminds him so much of the man he'd lost -- the one he hadn't even really had to begin with.
He was supposed to exercise caution. To keep his guard up and not stumble so quickly into that puppy dog friendship he always tends toward. "And you'll show me an adventure in Allag, down the road?"
"I'll hold you to that." G'raha tells him, he keeps his tone light, going along with the joke, but he wishes he really could. It's entirely possible, probable even, that something will happen during their tour of Eorzea and he'll get a glimpse of the adventurous life that Viktor leads, but he also knows that the entourage travelling with them - however pared down he managed to get it - are going to be doing their best to make sure that G'raha stays out of anything even remotely interesting.
Unfortunately, 'but he promised me an adventure while I was off helping to prevent an Umbral Calamity' doesn't really cut it for people like that. The only reason he'd been allowed to enact his plan to travel to the First at all had been because if anything happened to him he would have been sent right back to himself in the Source, none the worse for wear, and even then it had taken some serious arguing about how the best chance for the First was the power of the crystal tower, power that he was the best person to wield.
The kind of coddling he's likely to be subjected to is also the reason that Viktor's question earns a faint huff of laughter and a rueful smile.
"I'm afraid I can't promise you adventure, in Allag there are even more people on hand to make sure their prince doesn't get up to any mischief. Perhaps that would be good for you, though, a chance to actually rest."
Even if G'raha only knew of Viktor from the stories he'd heard, it's plain the man barely takes a moment to himself, and that had become incredibly obvious in the First. He lost track of the number of times he had to insist on Viktor taking a break.
A chance to actually rest. Hadn't the Exarch always urged the same? It's just coincidence, he tells himself, as that itching feeling grows into a more pressing urge to move his body.
He stretches his arms up and over the back of his head. When the knot in his back doesn't immediately work itself out, he slings his greataxe across his shoulders, then drapes his arms over the hilt. It makes him look like he's been yoked, a beast who would never stop moving if not pulled to heel -- but at least his shoulder finally pops.
"Rest?" he asks, still grinning, one eye squinting shut. "Never heard of it." There is never enough time, but maybe he can scrounge a few seconds to follow a friend's advice. "You'll have to show me."
G'raha shakes his head in fond amusement, though he hopes the 'fond' part is slightly less obvious.
"I'm sure I-" He begins, but he's cut off by a shout from nearby.
"Your highness, there you are!" A grey-haired elezen hurries towards them with a look that's somewhere between relief and disapproval "Please don't disappear like that on your own."
"I wasn't on my own," G'raha says mildly, turning to the man with his face a picture of innocence "I was accompanied by Viktor. Surely you don't expect any ill to befall me with the Warrior of Light at my side?"
The man frowns, but he doesn't have a rebuttal - G'raha knows he's the diplomatic type, he won't want to risk insulting the Warrior of Light so early in the journey.
He'll probably get an earful for it later, though.
"Allow me make introductions," G'raha continues smoothly "Viktor this is Elmort, one of my family's advisors, he will be one of the people joining us on our journey." The unfortunately goes unspoken, but it's in the hint of a mischievous smile that G'raha gives Viktor as he turns to him.
"Elmort this is Viktor, the Warrior of Light."
"A pleasure to meet you." Elmort says with a bow, impeccably polite "I came to inform you both that we are ready to depart, it is my understanding that the whole group will be travelling to Ul'dah, then after we meet the Sultana tomorrow those of us travelling with his highness will be continuing onwards. Does this match your expectations?" He asks Viktor
(In Viktor's experience, gray-haired politicians rarely like to hear the words, "I don't know, sir, I just work here." No matter how adept you are at your job.)
Usually, at this point, Alphinaud would be leaping in to bridge the gap left by the Warrior of Light's predictable bout of sudden onset silence. With the twins engaged elsewhere, though, Viktor is left to try and conjure up something the boy would say on his own.
"Glad to meet you, Elmort." The name sits somewhat sour on his tongue; not wholly unpleasant, just sharp. He stammers through the next bit, dreadfully aware that he'd just been flirting when he should've been preparing for a serious, potentially dangerous diplomatic excursion. "And for the opportunity to...show your prince our home. If there's anything I can do to make our journey and easier one, say the word."
He glances skyward, makes a few quick calculations and adds, "Should make the city before sunset. It's not a long trek. Safe enough, so long as you keep to the roads. I'll stay at the head." Viktor looks to G'raha. There's a smile in his eyes, despite his attempt at looking serious. "You'll join me there, highness?"
"Absolutely." G'raha agrees before Elmort has a chance to object.
He feels a little sorry for Viktor in that moment, in truth, being thrust into the diplomatic role that doesn't entirely suit him. He had hoped to see Alphinaud or any of the other scions, but he's also not surprised to see them absent - no doubt they have more important business to attend to than playing escort to an Allagan prince.
(Viktor no doubt has more important business to attend to, but though G'raha feels a little guilty to have pulled him away from whatever crisis would otherwise be demanding his attention, he's also glad enough to be spending time with him that he can't bring himself to be too regretful)
He does want to ask about the others, but again that would be a poor way of confessing the truth to Viktor. He'll have to wait for another chance for them to talk more privately, this time he'll come clean, he really will.
"The others are assembled at the gate," Elmort reports, his jaw set "shall we?"
With everyone's attention momentarily elsewhere, he does his due diligence, measuring the size of the Allagan delegation, judging whether they have the space on their persons or in their wagons to store weapons -- not that such a guess matters all that much when you're observing a civilization that once ruled the skies, made clones, and defied death.
He decides, thanks mostly to the complete silence of his Echo, that this whole business is politician-level dangerous. Not my circus, not my monkeys trouble. The sort of thing that the Syndicate breaks their fast on.
So, it's just as the prince said: his safety is the only thing Viktor need concern himself with. He prays he can keep his own head on straight long enough to see this mission through. But, by the Twelve is the prince distracting.
It was hard to, seeing how the star was starting to take shape. Theo recognized the strides taken and the alliances that had been forged. Freedoms that were now within the reach of so many different peoples.
"If you were to give me the option to be able to return now, I don't suppose I would take it."
G'raha smiles softly, a touch of admiration in his expression - he's impressed, truly, by Theo's certainty in his choices.
He has a similar certainty, in truth, a determination to see his plans through to fruition. He is apologetic about dragging the other scions to the First, regrets that they are in danger, but he doesn't entirely regret his own choices that brought them here. He wouldn't, he thinks, do anything differently, not now he's seen how much good they have done at Theo's side.
He might, he thinks, regret how those plans impact his own fate. He thought he had come to terms with his end, but knowing what he does now about Theo brings its own sense of loss. A loss he refuses to inflict on the other man, however much it breaks his own heart.
"I understand." He says gently "You are the type to look forward."
His gaze shifted towards the open window. It is no lie. Theo wasn't someone who looked back on most of his choices. Doing something like that was fruitless, really. Even if you pondered all of the "what-ifs" nothing would change about the present situation. All it would do would be to drive one into insanity. That didn't mean he didn't have moments where he felt as though he missed the chance to do the right thing. To make a better choice than what he did.
One of those moments happened to be staring at him, even though Theo wasn't able to really see those eyes behind the cowl. His ears twitched and he had to suppress something close to a grin. Maybe the Viera could just give into an impulse that has been something of an itch in the back of his mind ever since realizing the identity of the Crystal Exarch.
It was hard not to tease and he was doing so well at refraining. Oh well!
"I do find myself reminiscing more and more since arriving here. In fact, gazing at the Crystal Tower brings me to a moment in time where I wish I had done something different," Theo began, oh so casually. Conversationally.
That easy, casual tone lures G'raha into a false sense of security, not even considering that there might be an ulterior motive behind Theo's words - after all, it sounds like a perfectly reasonable continuation of their conversation.
"It does?" He asks "What moment is that?"
It's not that he doesn't think Theo is talking about something to do with their previous encounter, in fact he thinks it quite likely, but he thinks it still safe to press - it might not be to do with him, after all, and he sounds quite relaxed about it so it's probably not something causing him too much anguish or regret, which is to say it's not going to make G'raha feel horribly guilty for concealing his identity.
Mostly, though, he's curious - and he thinks that trying to change the subject would be even more suspicious than just asking.
For various reasons, truth to be told. It wasn't often that Theo told anyone what was on his mind or where his thoughts drifted off to. Yes, the red mage was using it as a means to tease the Exarch at the moment, but wasn't as though he was going to know this. Yet there were things that were going to be said, some truths that were best left alone.
"At the time I was simply brought on to do a job. Nothing more, nothing less," he admitted. "When I was done, I had every intention of parting ways - much like I had intended to do with the Scions at that point. Getting attached to anyone wasn't in the plans."
That was how he had lived the previous three decades, after all. Theo would move from one locale to another, simply doing what he was hired to do and then move on. Now look where he was.
"There was someone I met who reminded me of a much younger version of myself, before my mentor came for me. I was somewhat annoyed by the reminder, mind you. I had worked hard to remove that curious nature so I could best perform the duties expected of me."
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