for best bro Bernadette with the prompt: love me - a fluffy story about two (or more) characters

The vivid, crimson light of the Shimmer-Pool died out in a triumphant flash. All that echoed in the Fall of Soliam was the flow of water pooling at the grounds of the final Liberation Rite. Celeste brought her attention to the stars. They still hung in the night sky, but they no longer hummed the tunes she memorized over the years. Decades… centuries, even. The exact timing didn't matter; what did was the silence in the heavens.

Neither the stars nor Scribes uttered a sound.

Her chest swelled with a sensation she had long forgotten. Celeste found subtle pleasure in the new faces which reached the Scribesgate. Nothing more. Not when the scenery remained as stoic and untouched as herself. She forgot to smile, to laugh, to cry, to scream.

To feel alive.

It overwhelmed her, almost choked her with the sentiment bubbling up past her chest to lodge in her throat. Her once vigilant eyes went blind to the Triumvirates vacating the premise. The Rites were done. Where they wandered to next was unknown, but liberation wasn't written into their fates. Never again would Celeste demand each individual's name and purpose. Never again would she recite the will of the Scribes. Never again would she strum her black mandolin throughout the Liberation Rites.

The stars blinked out of the sky and darkness fell over Mount Alodiel. Celeste dared not to shift from her perch. She almost failed to notice he was still there.

Tariq held vigilance over her, keeping an adequate amount of distance between them. He clutched his lute in one hand and his hat in the other. Those golden eyes regarded her like always—with a warmth she yearned an eternity for.

"It is over now, Celeste," he murmured.

She hummed. "It is."

Her hands trembled against her instrument. Her heart dared to break free from her chest. Her mind raced in a million different directions.

"What do we do now?" she asked, almost fearing the answer. Or was it giddiness marking her words instead?

Tariq shuffled closer, circled around until he faced Celeste. "Whatever you wish to do now."

A scoff left her. "How am I to know?"

"We no longer have the expectations of the Scribes to live up to. Only the two of us remain." He leaned his lute against a stone pillar, topping it with his hat. "Whatever it is you desire, no matter how long you take to decide—" Tariq settled gentle palms onto her shoulders. "—I will stay by your side, Celeste. I will follow."

The weight of his words sent a new wave of emotions through Celeste. She recognized it now—the intensity of a joy so pure that it burned through every fiber of her soul.

"I…" She placed a free hand on his chest, relishing the beat of his heart in her palm. "I want to be with you."

He leaned in, forehead barely touching hers. "I'm right here, Celeste."

A sound left her. Did she… what was the word? A chuckle? Was that what she did? "And I never wish for you to wander away from me."

"I never will," he promised. "I'll stand in this very spot forever if that is your wish."

Celeste wished for many things. She longed to wander the heavens as freely as Tariq had in the Downside. She wished to revel in a world which was stolen from her. She wished to soar past the stars and never again watch them from afar.

For now? Her eyes locked with the golden ones consuming her. She found peace and safety in that gaze, in his embrace.

She snaked a hand up his neck to tangle in his hair. He cupped her face and flicked away the pleasant tears she didn't know she wept. Their noses touched and hearts pulsed in unison.

"Never let me go," Celeste whispered onto his lips.

Tariq's expression softened. They stepped into each other, lost in the other's touch. As Tariq eased in to close his lips over hers, Celeste smiled brighter than all the stars combined.