Is it strange to miss my own ignorance? Of course, there is no going back, and I would not want to even if I could. But the world seemed simpler then. Smaller.
I have been the innocent bystander as well as the conquering hero, and while I have no regrets, sometimes... sometimes one seems easier than the other.I do not wish another in my place. If I am privileged enough to stand and do what is right, then I am glad for it no matter how my knees may quake.
-Bee

Age: 27 (ARR) - 33 (DT)
Gender: Female (she/her)
Race: Elezen (Wildwood)
Height: 6'0" (183cm)Main Job: Bard
City-State: Gridania
Guardian: Azeyma, the Warden~
Born into an Elezen supremacy cult, Beore "Bee" Boranehn spent her youth wandering the Black Shroud with the rest of the "clan." Her parents, strict fundamentalists, believed that Eorzea should be stewarded by Elezen alone and that all other races were little better than usurpers. They survived through banditry, raids, and by intimidating travelers unlucky enough to cross their path. When Bee was twelve, she was deemed old and skilled enough to take part in an attack on a caravan. To her horror, all of the merchants within were slaughtered. At sixteen, her mother ritualistically scarred her face with the markings of their clan, forever branding her as belonging to them.As time went by, Bee began to wonder what the world was like beyond the family's campfires. Several times, she snuck away from her parents and lost herself in small towns and encampments. Inevitably, after a few days, she was found and forced to return. Each glimpse of what life could be like outside her parents' control gave her the strength, bit by bit, to believe that getting away permanently was possible.Shortly before her twenty-seventh birthday, Bee was out hunting when sudden movement in the brush drew her aim. When she went to retrieve her kill, she realized with shock and shame that she had killed a Miqo'te trader. The weight of this lost life, as well as her family's sins, drove her to finally abandon the clan and strike out on her own. She was functionally illiterate, ignorant of the world, and hunted by her past, but she hoped that somewhere in Eorzea she might find redemption.

Bee's footsteps echo in the Waking Sands as she makes her way toward the main room. The place is nearly empty—a rarity, to her mind, but then she is rarely here so early in the morning. Her mind awash with a myriad of troubles, she'd given up on sleep an hour or so ago. What exactly she means to do here, however, she doesn't know. Finding someone to converse with, perhaps, or to struggle her way through a book that expounds upon the harder-to-understand concepts relevant to their quests.Perhaps both in one, if she is lucky.She does not let herself admit it in so many words. If she opens the door hoping to see a specific person, no one needs to be the wiser. Not even herself.

U—Idyllshire is nothing like I have ever seen. The sounds and smells, gobbie-speak and hammers and charcoal and exhaust, never stop no matter what the time or weather. The people here work hard, but they are cheerful in their labor, and they speak to each other like all are equal. It brings to mind, in contrast, the austere grey and snowy silence of Ishgard. While I have, of course, been welcomed kindly and care for the city as if it were my own, there is still no denying that it is home to disparity. One might work to the point of exhaustion and still not have a hot meal and a bed. Another may spend their day in nothing but torpor and enjoy more wealth than they could spend in two lifetimes.Anyway. I know you are not able to say, but how is—Is there any news regarding—I miss—

Bee laughs, feeling lightheaded. “After ages of silence, to know that you feel… I thought you might have changed your mind.”“Never,” Urianger says. “I feared only that I would prove unworthy of thee. Wouldst thou not be better suited if I quit the field, and left room for someone better suited for thy affections?"The idea is ludicrous. So much of her is for the world, for others to command. One thing, one choice, should be for her."I think," she murmurs, "that I'll keep you. If it's all the same to you."Urianger smiles."Thou hast me, then."

"Full glad am I that thou wert of a mind to call.""Better than penning a letter. No relying on messengers for delivery, and… I can hear
your voice. I miss you.""…Thy safety, as well as that of our companions, meaneth more to me than words
alone can express.""Nice save. You will simply have to show me when next we meet.""I shall pray for a swift, decisive victory tomorrow, that fate might fly you home the sooner."

“It’s you,” she says.It’s a bit stupid. She pushes down the urge to be embarrassed, to examine herself from every angle and determine where he’ll find her wanting. Instead, she simply waits, every fiber of her being yearning towards his.“I fear I must admit,” he says slowly, unsure, “as embarrassing as it may be, full oft have I thought of this moment and what I might say to thee. Countless soliloquies did I pen, all of which before today I might have quoted solely from mine own memory. And yet…”His voice cracks.“The sight of thee hath left me speechless.”Bee runs to him. She crosses the room with no awareness of her feet touching the ground, as if she’s flying, meeting him as he hurries down the last few steps from the platform
to the main floor.

Bee clasps Urianger tightly, pressing herself hard into his grip. They will part ways soon, back to the bitter cold, and she means to soak up all the warmth of him she can
before their time is up."I am afraid," she admits. "And I am afraid to be afraid. I fear both being wrong and being right, and that we may only have a short while to be together after everything we've been through. And I hate the idea that something I want so badly would begin in terror rather than in bliss."Urianger's eyes are sad, but he smiles. He understands—of course he understands. Her Urianger."Then," he says, bending slightly, "I pray that thou return'st to me swiftly, that we may face these Final Days together. When the matter is summarily concluded, as it shall be anon, I will ask thee again.""And I will say yes," Bee says. "Every day."Urianger kisses her forehead."Once shall suffice."