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The attack takes it’s toll on both of them. A toll lesser than the one taken on the city itself, but heavy nonetheless. (Ana does her best to squash the guilt she feels, the thought that if she could feel worse it means she hasn’t done enough. It doesn’t help)
They’re sitting in their little vacation house. She’s listening to the waves, slumped at the table and watching Zo rush to and fro in the small kitchen. She wants to help, wants to stand and cook with her, indulge in the domesticity of helping her wife cook. She can’t, her thoughts weighing heavy on her shoulders as she replays her actions of the day.
She’d been in the city when the attack came. Handling a small dispute between her crew and the local customs official. The first explosions sent enough adrenaline coursing through her that she’d nearly been the first person into the fight, her axe crushing some metal thing before she’d noticed what it was.
She knows her way around a battlefield, but she’s never been one of the Scions. Not a force of nature reshaping the flow of combat. She has ever been what she started as, a captain. So she leaves the fighting to them, swallowing the taste of worry the entire time, and starts organizing in disaster. She pulls rescue crews together, shouts scared civilians into safe retreat, orders panicking guards into doing their godsdammned jobs-
Her endlessly spiral of counting and recounting the people she couldn’t save is broken by a warm bowl of stew placed into her hands by the most perfect woman to ever set foot on Eorzea. X’holu Threerivers smiling at her, knowing her well enough to know that the thoughts in her head have left no room for words. They eat together, then fall into bed. Zo runs gentle fingers over her ears, cradles her head in an echo of the happiest day of their lives, and though her wife is shorter than her she holds her until she falls asleep.
It’s enough, for her to relax, to let tide to wash her guilt out to sea.
Ana’s sleep schedule has never been normal, between her nocturnal clan and a life spent at sea. So she naps, holding Zo close. When she wakes, she will ensure breakfast is ready before her wife wakes, will see that her adventuring gear is clean and set by the door, so that when the morning comes her wife will be able to trail after the dawn the way she always wants to. The first on the road, ready to dive into the next adventure.
Ana will follow her, the moon to her sun, keeping the balance.
For now though, the night is hers, and she fills it with her love for Zo.