Fire to Ice, equals Ache
Basically, this is an excuse to introduce to you my male WoL.
Hope you'll enjoy :3
"I've heard many, many stories about you, Warrior," the sudden words of the lively Seeker of the Sun he was introduced to today, shook T'senri out of his reverie, and he hoped the man didn't notice the slight shaking of his fingers while he carefully pretended that he wasn't lost in thoughts while the eccentric historian dropped to seat next to him by the campfire. He looked toward him, faking a goofy grin that fooled so many and almost blinked with surprise when mismatched, red-cyan, eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly.
"Did you, now?" he hummed, going back to carefully sharpening his sword, bracing the blade against one of the stones forming the circle around the fire. He focused his icy-blue eyes on the movement of his hand, taking comfort in the familiar activity.
"Obviously," the man, G'raha Tia, scoffed with a hint of humor in his low, soothing voice, bracing his bracers-enclosed elbows on his knees as his gaze seemed to burn the back of T'senri's neck. "The mighty hero, Warrior of Light, is the water for the mill of rumors around this camp, as well as outside of it."
"You're a poor historian if you indulge in rumors, G'raha Tia," he chuckled, hoping to discourage the man from talking to him as he paired that with a narrowed, icy stare. But as his usual luck would have it, the older Seeker just grinned easily, his mismatched eyes lighting up with amusement.
"Spoken word is an important source of history," he hummed, raising his dark-red eyebrows slightly. "Believing everything one's hear… ah, that's another matter entirely. I was quite hoping you would indulge my curiosity, Warrior."
T'senri schooled his features into the too-familiar mask of his title, letting his mouth tilt into a polite smile as he focused on his sword again, ignoring the man's inquiring, amused stare.
"Ask your questions, historian," he chuckled, even as his throat tightened slightly and he barely stopped his long, inky-black tail from flicking with agitation. "Maybe I'll even answer them…" he trailed off, pretending boredom and hoping he managed to keep his ears in a carefully neutral position.
He hated this part of meeting new people. The questions about his fights with the Empire and the Primals. None of them were even aware of what painful memories those stirred. The excitement about his victories while his mistakes and failures had torn the bits and pieces of his soul. He leaned his head down slightly, letting his longish black hair fall around his face and shade his expression from the curios scholar, hoping his inquiries won't stir the nightmares to torment his mind after he'll reluctantly lay his head down later. Yet knowing that it was a pointless wish – aware they always waited for him anyway.
"How old are you, actually?" the historian's question had him blink with surprise, raising his eyebrows slightly as his gaze moved to crash again with the mismatched, vertically slit eyes.
"Twenty-two," he heard himself say before he even could think of it and hoping the weak light will cover his slight blush when G'raha grinned at him again, clearly pleased with his surprise. Hoping… yet knowing that with his pale carnation and their feline eyes… it was pointless. He could only, again, hope that the historian will assume that it was caused by the heat exhuming from the campfire.
"Ah," the man hummed with amusement, grabbing one of the sticks laying nearby and poking the fire until the sea of sparks flew into the nighttime air above them. "So you're two years younger than me," he chuckled, dropping the stick as he sent him another curious look. "Did you grow up in the city, or in a tribe?"
T'senri blinked slowly, furrowing his dark eyebrows with a hint of confusion as he lifted his hand to brush his hair back – maybe a bit of a habit as watched the man with a… new interest. Other than his friends, the Scions, no one ever asked him about that. People wanted to know how hot the flames of the Lord of Inferno were, how facing Titan or Garuda felt, or to hear the first-account story of his clash with the van Belsar and his men.
People he met cared only about the Warrior of Light, a brave and fierce protector. Not about T'senri Tia, the man behind the title.
"The tribe," he said slowly, watching another easy grin tilt the historian's full lips. He blinked again, then dropped his gaze to the fire, clearing his throat slightly as he went back to his menial task, hoping the man doesn't notice another treacherous blush. Twelve, but he hated the fact that no matter how much time he spent in the sun, he just couldn't tan to cover his pale carnation and too embarrassing blushes. Seven hells, he was the Champion of Eorzea!
But interest in him, always made him so… uncertain. No one ever cared about 'T'senri'… or what he wanted. Others always had ideas and expectations about how should he behave or what he should want…
"Oh?" G'raha's low voice sounded intrigued, as he, stretched out and crossed his legs at his ankles next to the fire, bracing his arms behind him. "Why did you leave? You weren't interested in the title of the Nunh? With your physique… it's hard to imagine someone could last through your challenge…" he trailed off with surprise on his handsome face when T'senri's eyes widened impossibly, and another blush, so much hotter than before hit his face.
Gods, he shouldn't react like that! He was tall for a Miqo'te, head taller than the historian, and muscular from the years of strife and near-constant fighting. He knew that females found him attractive, always fawning over his bright blue eyes and inky-black hair and handsome, if maybe a bit too sharp features. It was part of the reason why he chose to leave his tribe, despite… everything.
"I was… not interested," he said slowly, watching the flames and biting his lower lip with uncertainty. G'raha probably didn't really care, but… "They kept pushing me, ever since I passed puberty… The females I grew up with, even my sisters and half-sisters… all wanted me to challenge our sire when the time comes. But I couldn't…" he choked, blinking rapidly as all the blood drained from his face.
"Why…?" the man asked carefully, his voice suggesting he wouldn't mind if T'senri chose not to answer, and maybe because of that… the words he had never said to anyone, but one other person slipped his lips involuntarily.
"I've never found females… attractive," he whispered, then swallowed thickly and lowered his gaze shamefully.
It was the greatest shame of his life. He and the boys he grew up with, all were raised with the sole expectation of one day fighting their father and brothers for the privilege of becoming the breeding male for their tribe or leaving to start their own tribes or expanding the lands of their 'family'.
The females around him adored his eyes and physique, day in and out inquiring and spurring him on to swear he'll fight their sire for the title. Some wouldn't even bother waiting – trying to lure him into their bedrolls, or crawl into his despite the fact he shared the tent with other boys his age. Finally at seventeen, nearing the time of the final decision, he sneaked out of the camp in the middle of the night like a thief and never looked back.
He was too ashamed to admit that he found the idea of breeding with them… disgusting. That his skin crawled at their more or less shameless advances. That he… Azeyma, that he found the bodies of his playmates much more… intriguing.
He never acted upon it, Twelve preserve!
And now… He swallowed audibly and closed his eyes with a painful grimace. The only time he dared to shyly express his interest – despite everything, breaking through his… inhibitions, to ask the man he had a helpless crush on for years if he could ever return his feelings… blew up in his face spectacularly.
Thancred was kind, he had to admit. He didn't laugh or scorn him… instead delicately explaining through he was flattered, he didn't share his… tendencies. And T'senri knew that… he spent years watching his best friend chasing the skirts before the whole hell with Lahabrea went down… But somehow, he still fooled himself into believing…
"I see," the young historian hummed with consideration, and T'senri blinked as if woken up from a dream – then flustered impossibly, his hands shaking as he curled into himself with shame. Gods, he barely knew the man! He shouldn't… Oh, Twelve, he could already imagine the rumors after this slip of sanity… But he more than deserved it! Falling apart like that and flapping his big mouth, just because he felt… unwanted and vulnerable after that talk.
"I'm only good for killing, though," he heard his own, choked voice as if through the fog, his lips moving outside of his will as his eyes squeezed shut almost painfully. "Monsters, soldiers, Primals… They point me at what needs slaying, and I do because I'm good at it… Because it's all I'm good for… the Weapon of Light, really…"
He didn't hear him move, but suddenly a muscular arm wrapped around his waist delicately and a head rested against his shoulder, an almost too-warm body offering surprising comfort against his side.
He blinked again, feeling a furious blush of mortification spill over his face, but G'raha didn't comment, didn't offer empty words… only his insane heat sank into T'senri's skin through his shirt, slowly forcing his taut muscles to relax and despite himself… he turned involuntarily, resting his cheek against the crown of red hair and closed his eyes, accepting the silent solace the historian was offering.
He joined this expedition aiming to discover the secrets of the Crystal Tower to avoid his… best friend until he could look into his handsome face without the ache in his chest. So he wouldn't ruin their friendship with his senseless pining.
But, maybe… it offered more than a distraction.
"Were you ever in love, Senri?" Alisaie asked easily her best friend, with curiosity leaning toward him over the table between them inside the common area of the Rising Stones. As the conflict with the Garlemald Empire heated up, the rare moments of serenity like this, as they relaxed inside their base, came few and far between, and maybe because of that felt so much more… precious.
A slight shadow passed over the usually cheery expression of the handsome face of the Seeker of the Sun, his icy-blue eyes darkened for a fraction of a second and that made her blink with surprise. She honestly expected him to laugh at her inquiry, all of their friends more than aware that the Seeker seemed… above such notions despite his easy-going attitude.
T'senri Tia was brave, fun to be around, and snarked near-constantly, driving some of their friends to either laugh or grind their teeth – his goofy grins inviting others in on the joke, even if they didn't want to. He was a big brother she always wanted, even if sometimes he got slightly… overprotective. Or maybe… because of that, if she was inclined to admit.
"Once," he whispered softly, dropping his almost too-bright eyes to his hands folded around his cup, then rising it to sip on his coffee carefully. "But… it ended badly," he said with a sigh, setting the cup down again, but not looking up, as his longish, inky-black hair surrounded his face and his expressive ears lowered slightly against his head.
"Oh?" she hummed, clearing her throat a bit awkwardly as she sat back in her chair and watched him carefully. It felt… like she involuntarily stumbled upon a touchy subject, and maybe it would be better if she left it well alone… "What happened?"
"He left me… for the future," her friend whispered cryptically, and old hurt rang in his low, deep voice, making her smile wobble as her heart stuttered. Then he cleared his throat awkwardly and looked up with a slightly… stiff grin, even as his bright, vertically slit eyes cooled to shards of ice. "It's an old story, Ali…"
On impulse ignoring his clear deflection, before he could back away behind his usual, easy-going mask, her hand shot up across the table and wrapped around his - a much bigger one and rough from years of sword-wielding - squeezing delicately.
"Then he didn't deserve you," she said with confidence, catching his stunned gaze as she didn't care that he never before mentioned his preferences, her only worry in a such… obvious glint of heartbreak in his blue eyes. Then she grinned crookedly and lifted her chin pointedly while falling back into her seat. "No one is good enough for my best friend!" she said and bit back a grin when his eyes warmed, melting some of the ice.
"Is that so?" he drawled, leaning back in his seat with his typical, goofy grin that looked a bit… strained, but she rewarded his effort with a smug smirk and meaningful wiggle of her eyebrows as she defiantly brushed her white fringe back.
"Of course!" she scoffed, then winked at him, and pushing her seat back and raising to her feet, she sent him another, knowing smirk. "Now… ready to smash some faces in, Senri?"
"Always," he chuckled, lifting to his impressive height and smashing his closed fist into his open palm. "Lead the way, Firecracker."
Alisaie snorted a laugh at his nickname for her, then turned toward the exit and waved for him to follow, happy to see the sudden sadness gone from his expression.
Whoever was the person who broke her best friend's heart… She hoped she'll someday get a chance to give the asshole a piece of her mind! Until then… she was happy to distract him from the dark thoughts, finding a target for his boundless energy.