She carefully put a finishing touch on the thick, black blanket in her lap, and once done with it, T'rhasa almost reluctantly put away her needle and threads aside and making sure she was still alone inside the tent, she fisted her hands in the material and brought it against her cheek, closing her eyes with a quiet, sad sigh.

The eleventh blanket for the eleventh year her sweet boy was gone – and a small part of her heart despised the thought of putting this one back with the rest and endlessly hope that maybe this one, this year…

She sighed softly and dropped the material then rubbed at her eyes tiredly. She still had so much to do… Yet, year after year, she couldn't help but spare time between her other tasks to sew a blanket for her precious boy – in secret as other females and her daughters found her habit wasteful.

Working as a seamstress for her tribe, she loved her tasks, always finding solace in the quiet and monotony of sewing. Letting her mind drift away while her hands with practiced ease threaded the materials was pleasant enough, but around this time of the year she couldn't help the fact that her thoughts more likely than not were bound to drift to her son and the way she always felt she failed her beautiful boy.

Senri was special – she knew that the moment the midwife put her son in her arms and the pale, so unique, irises instantly stole her heart. Other females found her fascination with her son ridiculous and attributed it to the fact he was her only male offspring – but they couldn't see the shine of his soul in those pale irises as she did.

They couldn't see his uniqueness… that it, until he hit puberty, and then she wished they never saw it.

Eleven years later she still wished she was brave enough to take her boy away from this place as soon as she realized what was happening. She cursed her naivety and the fact that at first… she was proud when suddenly other females seemed to finally see how special was her boy. But while she found the beauty of his soul and gentleness of his character most intriguing, they could only see his looks and unusual physique… and they stalked, pestered, and turned her son's life into a nightmare… and she was too much of a coward to do more than watch.

When Senri was a little, so unbearably gentle and sensitive, other females mocked her interest in the boy. Her daughters would grow jealous and resentful if she dared to show her love for their brother. The males were a temporary commodity at best and unless proved capable enough to take over the breeding role, discarded with barely a thought. Fed, kept warm and trained – was all that was required of their care, but she couldn't help herself but when able, in secret, spoil her beautiful boy with affection.

His ink-black hair and pale-blue irises stood out so much in contrast to her own and his sire's looks – some found it hard to believe he was her son. Between her – a blonde with dark blue, almost navy, eyes, and a delicate frame – and his sire with brown hair and green eyes… Senri seemed like an anomaly. He stood out between other kits and made her heart ache whenever it was her turn to watch over the boys. While others seemed content with their circumstances – spending their days playing in the forest surrounding the camp, her boy whenever possible was happiest when he could curl into her lap and let her shower him with affectionate touches, running her fingers through almost too-soft black hair and chat about the boy's findings and interests… and she found that rare moments more satisfying than anything else.

Her boy was more prone to be gentle and sensitive than the other boys, she believed. He needed her affection more than his sisters ever did – and as unusual as it was seen as by others, she would love nothing more than be able to take more care of him than was customary. She was considered an odd one – barely able to keep back her eagerness for looking after the boys while for others it was considered a less than pleasing task. She didn't care of it much – as long as it allowed her to steal some moments with her son away from the mocking smirks and scowls at her 'eccentricity'.

But then, soon after his sixteen birthday, her Senri changed nearly overnight – in mere few weeks from a small, delicate-looking boy turning into an unusually tall, beautiful teen. When his features lost the distinctive baby-roundness and his body swiftly developed into a more muscular than typically athletic form of the other boys his age – she was as stunned by the drastic change as the other females. Stupidly proud that now others could actually see that her boy was as unique as she always felt he was – it took her a while to realize the disastrous outcome that shift had on her son.

By accident overhearing the other boys' jealous comments on the fact that one of Senri's half-sisters, T'kaza, tried to take of him what could be only freely given – sneaking into the boys' tent and trying to climb her son while he was asleep and defenseless… made her beyond furious. Despite the customs, somehow she always knew that the role of the Nunh was not something her boy was meant for – he was too special and too sensitive for that. She didn't know what fate had in store for him but serving as the breeding male for the tribe was definitely not that. But when she went to have some words with the girl and demanded she stay clear from her Senri… she was mocked for her efforts. Not only by the girl, but others found the very idea hilarious. The boys were there to serve the tribe – and others thought her boy was lucky to have females eager to teach him how to please them ahead of time – so sure he'll want to challenge his sire when the time comes.

And because T'rhasa was too much of a coward to do more… she backed off, hesitating. If all of them said the same thing… maybe they were right and she was wrong…? Maybe her unusual feelings for her boy were clouding her judgment. Senri, so full of his customary grins and easy attitude seemed fine… until the night soon before his seventeenth birthday and the approaching time of the challenge when he sneaked inside her tent and with such heartbreaking shame announced he was leaving the camp. And for once his ice-blue irises were unguarded… and she could see the damage to his soul.

Destiny put this beautiful, special boy in her arms… and she failed to protect him. And though he didn't show a shade of scorn she deserved for that – enfolding her in a tight, almost desperate hug, his whispered apologies broke her heart. Despite her assurances and tries… she could see it was too little, too late… and the fact that eleven years later it still made her heart ache whenever she let herself think of her son – seemed like too less of a punishment for her failure. Wondering what became of him – if he was happy and safe… each year as his birthday neared, had her reminisce and wish she did more.

She sighed softly then stood up and carefully folded the finished blanket, then with a slightly wistful smile put it away inside the chest holding the ten more of similar ones – hoping that even without them, her boy was warm and safe… wherever he was.


T'senri had a list – his own, private thing he never shared with anyone, knowing they would find it beyond childish – of the cities and places he… disliked. Over the years, it grew, for many different reasons.

Ishgard was too cold for his liking and brought back less-than-pleasant memories. Rhalgr's Reach was too dusty and running around the lake in the middle of it was annoying when he was in hurry. Ul'dah… well, don't ever get him started on that…

But Radz-at-Han… oh, but it was a new can of worms to consider. Beautiful and colorful as it was… he murmured a curse under his nose as another round of embarrassing sneezes made his eyes water and waved his hand at Raha's worried look. Even unbinding his bandana to instead wrap it around his nose and mouth wasn't helping with the intense mix of spices thickening the air once they neared the market – and seemingly he was discovering that the merge with his inner beast had a downside of making his nose even more sensitive… as his lover seemed unaffected by the surrounding them scents.

And as he should be busy fawning over his mate after the ordeal of clearing the Tower of Zot… his annoyance with his circumstances was reaching a completely new level! Not to mention Vrtra's words still rang in his head and sent his insides curling as the ominous shiver slithered up his spine.

'Take heart and protect them well…' In a different time maybe it would sound less unnerving, but after the whole thing… he was more than ready to leave the city and head back to Old Sharlayan to consider how to proceed. But to do that, he had to survive the march across the Radz-at-Han markets, attune at the fixed Aetheryte so that the next time he had to return to this place he doesn't have to take the long way from the Great Work… no matter how fast this place was climbing his list with every inhale making his nose tickle and his swiftly building up the headache.

The only comfort was Raha's hand laced tightly with his as his mate pulled him along through the crowd filling the market, ever so often tossing him quick, worried glances over his shoulder. And he hated causing that when he could see the earlier excitement in his lover's crimson eyes when they first arrived at the city. The first place that they could truly discover together… and his stupid nose was ruining it.

"I'm sorry, my prince," he murmured when they finally arrived at the Aetheryte, unable to shake off the relief at leaving the corridor containing the heaviest mix of the scents.

"It's quite all right, Snark," his lover chuckled, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his cheek against T'senri's back while he placed his hand against the crystal of the Aetheryte and focused on attuning. "It's not like it's your fault, my heart. None of us could know you'll have a such… violent reaction to this place."

Done, he still grimaced under the bandana covering half of his face as he turned around in his lover's grip and wrapped his arms around him, resting his chin on top of the red hair. Peering over his head toward the corridor they just left with a very real dislike… he sighed and rubbed his chin between his mate's ears.

"Ready to go?" he asked, at least trying to cover some of his eagerness to get out of this city.

"Actually… I was hoping you wouldn't mind going ahead without me, Snark," Raha chuckled sheepishly, nuzzling against his shoulder with reassurance when T'senri flinched slightly at that. "I hate how much distress this place is causing your poor nose… but while we passed through the market, I happened to see something… interesting that I would like to have a better look at…" he trailed off and leaned back in his arms, looking up with a slightly sheepish smile and a pretty blush.

"But…" he started and choked, now thanking the gods for his bandana as his gaze darted away from his lover's eyes and he felt his face heat up considerably.

"But…?" he heard Raha's low voice and his face grew even hotter when he cleared his throat, internally cringing at his embarrassment and stupidity.

He had more than enough occasions to tell his lover that tomorrow was his birthday… and he wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. But… he was beyond embarrassed about the whole… thing. It was so unbearably childish of him… he knew, yet he couldn't help himself!

Celebrating birthdays wasn't a common thing in the tribes… yet, for him it was different. Special. A day when his delicate mother would make sure to spend time with him – despite the looks it was getting her around the camp. And as embarrassing as it was… he couldn't help but simply love her. For that and for being the only one that never asked him to challenge his sire. For every year granting him a specially made for him blanket – when none of the other boys could claim to have something specifically made for them by their mothers. For only ever making him feel special instead of strange and wrong as the others did.

Rare as were occasions to have his mother's attention just for himself – he couldn't help but adore each opportunity. Mesmerized by her delicate beauty and beyond… grateful that while other women at best ignored him but she would pet his hair so tenderly and listen to his… silly stories as if it was the most interesting thing she ever heard. That she seemed to… care about him while other boys were lucky to even know which of the females taking care of them was their mother. While his sisters were free to ask for her time and attention, he couldn't help but grow jealous – and want her for himself. Possessive as he was by nature… it felt so unfair that he couldn't just because he was born a male. That while his sisters were taught and trained in every aspect of running and supporting the tribe, he and the other boys were mere… commodities. And while his playmates seemed content with that… he despised it.

But quickly noticing how many… nasty looks his mother was gaining from her peers whenever she was treating him differently from the other boys… As much as he hated it, he learned to swallow his feelings and take on by now familiar mask and pretend that everything was right in the world. If he showed his unhappiness his mother would grow worried and as if she couldn't help herself, try to comfort him – and as much as he loved her for that, it would have other females mock and scorn her… and that, he hated even more.

She was beautiful and kind and didn't deserve to suffer because of his… neediness. If other boys were fine as they were… he had to be the wrong one to want something different, right?

"…Snark?" his lover's voice tore through his musing and he blinked rapidly, cursing his distraction. "Is it okay?"

"Y-yeah, sure," he laughed sheepishly, nuzzling against his mate's ear with a tiny sigh. He was an adult now, and mated… and thinking about the past was… useless. One day, he'll be ready to head back to the camp and face his mother, hoping that all he did and became was… enough to make up for the way he left. For bringing her shame and other females' scorn. For not being… what he should be. And hope that despite it all… she would be proud of the man he became. That she wasn't wrong to treat him differently than the other boys were treated by their mothers. And that she'll see the wonder of his mate… his good, beautiful soul – and he'll finally feel worthy of such a miracle. "Just… don't take too long?" he finally dared, involuntarily tightening his arms around his lover possessively.

"Mhmm," his Raha shifted his arms to wrap them around his neck and pulled him down to place a sweet kiss over his mouth despite the material in the way and with a smile ran his fingers through his messy hair. "Now, off you go, my beast," he chuckled, relaxing his arms around him and T'senri reluctantly did the same. "I'll be along shortly… take that time to spend it with Sali… maybe you can win her favor back," he winked playfully and the Warrior involuntarily scowled, narrowing his eyes at his lover's amusement.

"It's not funny at this point, Raha," he chided – and maybe he was pouting a little under the bandana. "If it goes on like this… Alisaie really is going to have to move in with us after we move out of the Rising Stones… or something."

His tease of a mate snorted a laugh at that, and he couldn't help how his lips twitched at the sound. Holding his breath, he pulled back the bandana and quickly placed a fond kiss on his lover's pretty lips, then quickly teleported back to Old Sharlayan… breathing a sigh of relief when he landed at the Aetheryte and headed toward the Annex.


When left alone, G'raha sighed, then scowled and rested his hands on his hips, looking up at the crystal of the Aetheryte.

Don't you think that Ares… overdid it a little? He asked his immortal. He needed to be left alone without Senri growing suspicious about that… but he hated how distressed his mate looked at his sudden bout of nearly violent sneezing… courtesy of his immortal, though he was not aware of the compulsion.

It's possible he got a little… too enthusiastic, Damon chuckled sheepishly. But we did achieve the desired effect, Raha, you have to admit. Now, onto the difficult part…

G'raha sighed, running his hand over his hair as involuntarily his stomach tightened into a knot of nerves. Climbing the Tower of Zot didn't seem that stressful in comparison to what he planned… but he steeled his back and teleported to the site of the earlier organized meeting, sighing with relief when he saw his co-conspirator was already there with the requested items.

"Finally!" Alisaie gasped, shooting up from her spot on the floor of the empty room. Empty but for a pile of rolls of the materials near her feet. "I've been waiting for a while, Raha."

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish smile. "I was trying to not make Senri suspicious," he admitted, kneeling next to the pile and looking through the rolls. "This seems like… much?" he finally said, looking up at his friend with raised eyebrows.

"Y'shtola said that it will show your… commitment," young Elzen snickered, poking his shoulder. "Since you know… you're completely going out of order with this whole idea. Since you're already – theoretically – mated for six years, she thought twelve rolls would be considered… polite. And you said you do want to seem committed and polite," she raised her white eyebrows expectantly.

"I do," he sighed, falling back to sit on his heels. "Do you think it's ridiculous?" he dropped his gaze as his face burned.

"I think it's… sweet," she laughed when he tossed her a deadpan stare. "Seriously, Raha… I know he's going to love it. So, ready for the next part?" she asked, gathering half of the rolls in her arms. "Since it's so much… I thought I would help you… and maybe serve as moral support," she winked with a grin when he paled considerably and swallowed thickly, but then he stood up and gathered the rest of the materials.

G'raha sighed and freed one hand to place it over his friend's shoulder then with a thought brought them into the earlier scouted clearing near their destination. It would hardly serve his cause to terrify his intended target by suddenly appearing out of nowhere at her side, after all… This whole thing was already going to be difficult as it is – and all hoping he wasn't overstepping and his lover will appreciate the… intervention.

Though serving as a part of their… scheme for tomorrow, he could see in his mate's memories something that his Senri refused to acknowledge. So tied up in the guilt over his departure from his tribe, his Warrior missed the similar guilt and remorse in his mother's eyes the night he left. While it seemed more like a simple… bad luck that his Snark was born in a place that was so painfully unfitting for him – apparently made worse by Damon's spell that made him look so similar to Ares – G'raha wanted to try to… rectify the hurt and guilt of two souls innocent in the whole situation.

That is if his heart drops from where it decided to jump in his throat when silently he led his young companion toward the path leading to the much bigger clearing in the forest, full of tents, campfires, and containing his prize: Condor tribe's camp. And T'rhasa Mali, the woman who gave birth to the love of his life… and whom he hoped would find it herself to accept him as her son's mate – and agrees to serve as a part of his intended gift.

Everything else was already set and ready – thanks to the dedication and efforts of the Scions who seemingly loved the idea of playing a part in Damon's scheme – and when the first tents flashed between the trees… he swallowed audibly and ignored Alisaie's quiet snicker, steeling his back as he started to pray to any god that would listen that this does not blow up in his face.

Be brave, my boy! His immortal chortled, clearly getting waaay too much amusement at his expanse. But for Senri… G'raha exhaled slowly and smoothed his expression with Exarch's polite smile, hoping that part of him will work the best to gain him what he wanted: the favor of the woman whom he owed more than he could ever repay. Not only because she gave life to his soulmate – but because despite their circumstances and customs – she nurtured Senri's affectionate nature. Nursed his gentle and sensitive heart – giving him the man his Warrior was now.

And for that he could only be grateful… and hope she would grant him one more favor.