Ice and Fire Chapter 1, a final fantasy xiv fanfic

Notes:

Well... it just wouldn't leave me alone.

Extension of my one-shot "Fire to Ice, Ice to Fire"

There will be a lot of time skips coming along, and likely to go Explicit eventually, just so you know. Will update the summary and tags as I go along.

Enjoy :3

Chapter 1

T'senri was nervous.

Nervous and confused, and he didn't really deal well with feelings like that. So he did what he has always done in situations like that – he hid behind his mask.

As barely more than a kit he quickly learned that if he faked cheer – people around him were less likely to notice and pester him about what was wrong. So he would school his features in a goofy grin and pretend everything was all right in the world – and the more bothered he felt, the snarkier he got – figuring that if he annoys his peers, they'll leave him alone.

Back in his tribe's camp, it worked wonders – by the age of fifteen he had a reputation as the happy-go-lucky idiot, and until the unfortunate turn of events after he hit puberty at sixteen and the females would start to pester him something fierce – he felt comfortable with his mask.

He hated the attention, the nagging, and especially when he would wake up in the middle of the night to one of his 'friends' as he thought, trying to climb into his bedroll. The boys he grew up and shared the tent with didn't even bother to hide their jealousy – ribbing and making jokes that made his skin crawl, but again, his mask came in handy.

Then, after he finally gave up and left the camp… his luck struck again – and Hydealyn picked him of all people for her Champion… and it only went downhill from there.

One bright point he used to see was that it led him to meet Thancred – very soon after arriving in Ul'dah and signing into Gladiators Guild nearly off the gate. Training with the other boys came in handy, not to mention his unusual height and build – it gave him an edge few could claim, especially between Miqo'te fighters.

Discovering he had Echo… and soon after being invited to join the Scions of the Seventh Dawn… was neat. He and Thancred hit it off beautifully right of the start and he… enjoyed having a goal. Extremely protective by nature – he was glad to have an outlet in the form of traveling around the city-states and helping whomever he could under the banner of the Scions.

Later in the outcome of the ambush by Amala'jaa facing Ifrit and discovering that what he thought was a dream on the road meant he was immune to the tempering of the Primals… ruined everything.

He fought the fiery lizard with raging determination to save the soldiers who got caught in the trap alongside him – and his gut burned when he won and was faced with the fact that any way they'll be put to death – tempered as they became by the Primal.

Feeling like he failed… because if he didn't just stand there like a moron that he was but slew the priest before he could act… maybe he could have saved them.

When van Belsar's men raided the Waking Sands during his absence – he lost his mind. To have his home… his nest destroyed like that – so many of his friends slain, forcing him to take care of their bodies… broke something inside him. With them, he buried a piece of himself – then went after van Belsar and his men with vengeance. He murdered them with relish – and paid back the general in full by razing his home to the ground – not that he didn't help it along, trusting an Ascian.

Lahabrea possessing Thancred – was a slap in the face he could never forgive or forget. Using his best friend – more than that – taught T'senri a lesson he would never forget. Ascians since then we're his prey of choice – and he swore he will wipe out all of them – even if it'll take the rest of his life.

They were responsible for everything in his life that went wrong - starting with goading Amala'jaa into summoning Ifrit and ending with guilt-ridden Thancred avoiding him at all costs – until T'senri snapped and had the great idea to let go of his inhibitions and have a talk with his… friend that blew up in his face.

And when he left the Rising Stones with his tail nearly between his legs – curling into himself with shame and disappointment – a stranger with a suspiciously familiar voice approached him and invited him to take a look into the expedition that set the camp at the far edge of Mor Dhona.

He wasn't really interested – not in the expedition, anyway… But that stranger… he couldn't be sure, with the mask and all, and didn't want to make a scene in Revenant Toll – the new headquarters of his people – but he had a raging suspicion it was Nero – one of the people responsible for the massacre of the Waking Sands. And he figured that if he listens to that invitation… he will get a chance to make sure, one way or another. And if it was truly Nero… well, he wouldn't slip away this time.

When to his surprise Cid and his men decided to join as well – he grew almost certain that sooner or later that stranger will show up and that he was right about his identity – remembering the hard-on Nero had for Cid as they broke into the Praetorium.

T'senri didn't care about the expedition or the secrets of the long-dead Empire – but if there was a chance for him to get Nero's head out of this escapade – he didn't mind helping the scholars along… until last night.

Now… yeah, he was nervous and confused – but he also had a new goal in hanging around the expedition into the Crystal Tower.

One very interesting, red-headed reason… who offered his insane heat in silent comfort when T'senri felt… raw and vulnerable. Who seemed more interested in him than his title… spiking his inborn curiosity something fierce.

G'raha Tia seemed… kind. And last night, once he got a hold of himself and pretty much… bolted, almost running toward his tent and hiding inside it like a frightened kit… well, he was embarrassed and even more… confused. And when he dared to leave his tent in the morning the next day… surprised when none seemed to know of his… slip of sanity. No one looked at him funny – or whispered behind his back… so he almost shyly assumed that G'raha didn't… spill anything about what he said to him so… stupidly.

And that was… new. T'senri was used by now to people gossiping and spreading false rumors about him. It cane with fame, as his friends joked. Becoming the Champion of Eorzea… had its toll. And as uncomfortable as he felt hearing people speculate which of his female comrades in Scions he was sleeping with – he could only imagine how much worse it would get if something about his actual… preferences saw the light of the day.

He was too… ashamed about it in the first place to have it… discussed. He could handle the gossip about him and Minfilia, Y'shtola (who seemed to be favorite) or Yda… But having others speculated about his male friends… hit too close home. Thancred's rejection… still burned too much.

And to know G'raha didn't share what he learned from him – made him feel… thankful. Though he still wasn't sure how was he supposed to now face the historian. Will he now think that T'senri was… interested in him? Oh, seven hells… He was handsome, yeah – and those mismatched eyes were quite… pretty… but Twelve, he was burned enough as it is and… just… nope!

He didn't need the… complications in his life. He gave it a shot – got rejected for his trouble, and if his best friend saw his… tendencies as unnatural… Well, Thancred didn't say it that way, but still – for him, it was enough to swear off ever slipping like that again.

He had his mission to accomplish here – find and make Nero pay – and he didn't need the… distraction.

So as he paced near the tent that he found out belonged to the historian – waiting for him to wake up and leave it so he could… ask him to keep their conversation to himself and assure him that what he said didn't mean he was interested in him in the slightest, he was beyond nervous. And that made him grin like an idiot at every passing him scholar and engineer – earning more than a few surprised looks.

"Good morning, Warrior," one of the scholars said, a Hyur female with blond hair and green eyes, clearly misreading his grin for interest as she stopped by him and grinned back.

Oh, fuck…

"Morning…" he murmured, looking over her head and trying not to blush – and make the situation even worse!

"I'm Sienna," she giggled, and when he tossed a quick look at her again – wondering what was so funny? – she fluttered her lashes at him and smiled in a way he already knew too well. His skin crawled and he barely stopped himself from growling and backing away, trying to keep his ears in a neutral position. "We didn't have a chance to be introduced yesterday, but I've heard much about you since arriving in Eorzea."

"Is that so?" he said, keeping on an expression of polite interest on his face as he tried to subtly back away from her. At least it confirmed what he thought – that G'raha didn't… spill anything. "Sorry, miss, but I'm quite busy," he smiled politely, despite really not feeling that. "I've hoped to discuss something with one of your… collages and…"

"Oh, I can help you with whatever you need in their place, I'm sure," she grinned, and he barely bit back a snarl when she lifted her hand and put it against his chest.

Oh, Twelve… he hated this type so much. She was pretty, he figured, and more than confident in that fact – instantly assuming that every male around her was interested. He met his share of those – and they were always the most annoying and hard to get rid of. And they always pissed him off the most.

"I don't think that's possible, miss," he let his eyes turn to shards of ice, now backing away from her openly and letting her hand fall down against her side. "So far I know… he's the only historian here specializing in Allagan Empire," that much he remembered from Rammbroes's introduction.

"Ah…" the girl – though she looked older than him – scowled visibly, folding her arms over her chest. "G'raha Tia? You do well to avoid him, Warrior. That boy is bad news – always was."

He frowned, looking at her with confusion.

"Excuse me?" he murmured, resting his hands on his hips. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"What I said. He's quite… famous back in Old Sharlayan, where we're from," she smirked quite… unpleasantly, shrugging slightly. "They call him an 'eccentric', but we all – the students – figured that it was a polite way to say 'freak' and not only because of his… creepy red eye. I've heard that he's so… weird even his own tribe didn't want him around!" she giggled, clearly pleased with her own joke… and T'senri's frown grew more pronounced.

"Pardon?" he hesitated, stepping from one foot to the other.

"Oh, it's not a secret back home that he was five when he arrived in there," she said, raising her eyebrows slightly. "Nobody knows why, but some said it's probably because of those eyes – some Seeker friend of mine speculated once that his tribe probably saw it as a sign of bad luck – and got rid of him as soon as they could. Not that I blame them – as he does only cause trouble. I've heard…"

"Enough," he snapped suddenly, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring. "I'm not interested in… gossip," he drawled through his teeth when she flinched and visibly backed away. "And with whom I chose to talk or interact with… is only up to me and my own judgment. Now, if you excuse me…" he narrowed his eyes, dropped his arms, and walked past her… fuming.

T'senri clenched his jaw so hard his back teeth were almost aching as he neared the tent he was eyeing earlier. What she said… really bothered him for some reason. Last night G'raha seemed… kind. And he did hear someone yesterday call him an 'eccentric', not to mention the way they met – but he didn't put much mind to that. He thought that race about Twelveswood was pretty… funny and the way the older Seeker jumped off that scaffolding – all grins and excitement – seemed hilarious. As rare as it was, his grin was genuine then, and he barely stopped his own tail from whipping with amusement and more than a bit of… interest.

Not that way, Twelve preserve! But just… G'raha seemed fun – and even as upset as he was yesterday over Thancred – he was quite… a bright spot in the otherwise gloomy day. And he could appreciate that.

He still felt that girl's gaze on himself when he stopped at the side of the tent, and he fought to curb in his temper – as surprising as it was. He didn't get easily upset, normally… He fought another frown as he took a deep breath.

"G'raha, are you awake?" he called, trying to keep his voice carefully neutral.

His sensitive ears twitched at the noise coming from the inside of the tent – a thud as if something fell – then the flap was pushed open and a pair of huge, red-cyan eyes peered up at him quite… owlishly from under the red fringe. His hair was a mess, loose and looking as if he ran his fingers through them too much and there was a smudge of ink on his cheek he didn't seem aware of as his jaw slightly… dropped.

Cute, T'senri thought involuntarily as his heart thumped… nervously. Instantly an automatic, goofy grin spread across his face and he saw the mismatched eyes widen even more.

"…Warrior?" the historian murmured, then cleared his throat more than a bit awkwardly, then straightened and stepped outside the tent. "May I help you?"

"Ah, yeah…" he backed away slightly, in thought scrambling to find something to say as he still felt the gaze of the woman. "I was hoping… you could teach a bit more about the goal of this expedition, G'raha."

"Oh… of course!" an instant wide grin appeared on his face and sparks of enthusiasm filled his eyes – and T'senri's stupid heart went simply… insane.

Oh, Twelve preserve… he was interested that way.

He almost whimpered, with effort keeping his mask on his face while the historian with a smile and a polite gesture invited him into his tent.

Gods… he was so fucked.