This. This was what he’d been waiting for—this feeling, this moment of harmony, the thing he’d been fighting that he had also been seeking. This thing between them that was coming to life, bright with impossible certainty, absent the usual risk of burning out. It sped through him, energy and magic, power and heat, waves like a furnace stretching out from him in beams, in blinding waves. He wondered what Tristan could see; if looking at them together felt like staring into the sun; if it was obvious now that this was what they had always been. Varona and Rhodes, duality and synchronicity.
Beginnings and endings, stardust and stars.