Chapter 14: Nest


It was their promise across time and space.

[ARR to post EW - general]


Notes:

No idea where it came from, again, but you can look at this as a companion piece to "Doomed Dawn," as it references it quite much.

Rating: General [perhaps delicately leaning toward mature, but I wasn't sure, so yeah...]

Warning: a LOT of feels [I did need a tissue, so...], but hopefully more on the happier side, eventually.

Hope you'll enjoy :3


G'raha learned about it by making a mistake he wasn't even aware of at first.

One day, between the one that Senri utterly blew his mind by admitting that he wanted him, but before he gave in and moved into his Warrior's tent, waking up alone inside his own, he had a somewhat silly idea of asking his… friend to tour the area of Mor Dhona with him. With that goal in mind, he matched off to the edge of the lake nearby, washed and dressed a fresh change of clothes – quite embarrassingly self-conscious – then with more than a hint of uncertainty and very much avoiding the looks of the scholars and engineers as the camp slowly woke up, found himself at the entrance of Senri's tent, quietly calling his name.

He wasn't as surprised to not hear a sound before the flap of it parted – by then more than aware that the Warrior tended to move with the soundless, lethal grace of their shared half-feline nature – revealing a very disheveled-looking black-haired Seeker… More blown away, honestly, as the sight of his… friend in nothing more than a pair of black, tight-fitting pants and with messy strands of ink-black hair surrounding his almost too-beautiful face… Well, it was enough to say that it was actually the first time he happened to see his Senri shirtless and all that nearly glowing pale skin wrapped over his… friend's incredibly well-defined muscles… He might have got a tad distracted – and honestly – he likely drooled a little, too.

The gorgeous vision was accompanied by a sight of quite sleep-dazed ice-blue eyes and an adorable flush when Warrior yawned widely before G'raha could even open his mouth with his intended proposal – as he tried to actually remember how to speak and not gawk too obviously – and suddenly… Well, perhaps more than a tad… dazzled by the mind-blowing mix of the Warrior's purely male beauty and the idea bouncing about his head that this absolutely gorgeous man wanted him… G'raha utterly forgot his insecurity – and anything else, truly – and stunned his… friend by, without a doubt or a word, setting his hand over Senri's heart and, with a delicate nudge pushing the younger Seeker back into his tent – and before the flap of it even closed behind them, he pulled the Warrior into a heated kiss. And more than a tad mind-blown when Senri gave in with downright shockingly happy purrs, he eagerly used his Warrior's apparent distraction to explore the heat of all that deliciously pale skin.

At that point, they had more than a few heated sessions of making out behind them, yet at some level – likely born out of his insecurities – there was still more than a big part of his mind that half-expected that Senri would balk and push him away at any moment, but the longer that didn't seem to be the case and instead his Warrior's lips only grew more and more aggressive… so did G'raha's hands, already more than addicted to their exploration. But when his somewhat shaky hand with some uncertainty wrapped around the impossible silk at the base of his Warrior's tail experimentally and Senri froze with an absolutely wonderful breathy moan, suddenly all he could think of was what other delicious sounds like that he could make him utter.

Until then, it was always Senri, when enticed, that would pin him down with his much taller frame and with nothing more than the addictive taste of his lips and the way that he would rub against him in all the right places that would have G'raha lose it completely… But in that moment when a few strokes of his hand over the sensitive, ink-black appendage had his Warrior bury his heated face against his throat and feed his ears with some absolutely intoxicating quiet mewls and whimpers… He wasn't even sure when or how, but suddenly he had the much taller Seeker pinned down into the messy heap of his blankets and again drowning in the almost too-sweet flavor of his lips, it was him who rutted his too-painful erection into the Warrior's hard body… Before he even realized what happened, his gorgeous would-be lover shuddered under him, and his too-pretty lips went slack under his with a choked whine, made worse when drunk on his scent, he dropped his head against the heated skin and bit down instinctively…. And the way that made Senri downright sing his name in a litany of dazzling tiny whines of submission… he did perhaps grow more than a tad intoxicated on the feeling of power that seemed to trigger the instincts he wasn't even aware of having.

Curious by nature, suddenly it became imperative in his mind to find out what else could have his man repeat that lovely sounds. What made his Senri gasp, purr, and moan… creating music that sparked him in an aggression he had no idea he was capable of.

And that when he was done with him, his gorgeous Warrior, with an utterly debauched and nearly shocked expression on his almost too-beautiful face, was a reward more than worth his painful arousal, that's for sure! But as innocent as was his sweet Senri back then – and he, as uncertain and scared of pushing too hard and too fast – he relented, soothing down his beautiful Warrior and his own almost too painful need, with much softer, tender kisses until he was able to think about anything else than begging this absolutely gorgeous man to let him fuck him.

But as, in fact, he had no idea how that was supposed to work, and the thought of somehow hurting him made his heart wither in terror… Of losing the way his Warrior looked at him whenever they were alone, and he was allowed to witness the depths of vulnerability and trust behind the mask he hid the beauty of his soul from others… To distract them both, between much more delicate kisses, he finally managed to get out the question that brought him there in the first place – hopefully, well enough covering his desire with humor and quite a tad of pretend self-confidence.

And to see that shine of trust and… love in ice-blue irises only grow, making his stupid, lovesick heart lose its rhythm, was a reward to put any other to shame!

But then, when Senri, with an adorable blush and an even cuter, shy smile, left him alone in his tent to wash and change before their escapade, G'raha made a mistake. Nervous and looking to distract himself from thinking about how Senri looked like in those heated moments, he somewhat absentmindedly set to make an order of his… friend's messy bedroll.

Growing up in the Students of Baldesion compound back in Old Sharlayan, it was ingrained in his habits to keep his clothes and covers neatly folded, and as it was something to keep his hands occupied, he didn't think of it much – only perhaps a tad half-consciously hoping for his Warrior's praise… Back there, it was only his neatness and good manners that earned him any positive reactions from his peers, and as uncertain as he still felt with Senri… He did want to present himself in the best possible light in his would-be lover's presence.

He realized that he had made a mistake very swiftly because when his Warrior returned and laid his eyes on his efforts… he was somewhat baffled by his initial, very apparent, adorable excitement to be exchanged by the sight of his mask instead. That the sight of the wide, a tad goofy grin that fooled so many was proceeded by a hint of shame and hurt in the pale eyes… Had him ready to beg forgiveness without even understanding what exactly he did wrong to cause that unwelcome change. And because by then he was spoiled rotten with the peaks under that mask, and his heart downright dropped into the pit of his stomach to be on its receiving end… With a determination born from desperation, he set to soothe and cajole his friend to give him an explanation.

How long it took was in his head a sign of how grievous his misstep was, and then finally, somewhat shyly stammered explanation of the significance of his Warrior's 'nest' and that he would let him anywhere near it, in the end, blew his mind utterly! And that by swiftly returning the bedroll to the 'proper' order instead of laughing or chiding his friend about his habits earned him another of those much more honest if still nervously shy smiles… claimed his heart into even a fiercer, unyielding grip.

Made him even so much more desperately wish to feel deserving of Senri's sensitive heart…

That day, like so many others from those few weeks when he met, fell for, and in the end, lost his Warrior, did become one of his most treasured memories – something to keep his determination burning fierce throughout his lonely vigil and the many trials of the crumbling First Reflection.

But some far too long nights – dark, while even bathed in the eternal light of the skies – as Crystarium barely came to be as a mere tiny village of refugees striving to survive in a dying world… As he didn't require sleep by then, once such night found G'raha aimlessly wandering the many chambers of his crystalline inheritance. Trying to stave off the loneliness of his wait, most of the 'nights' he would lock himself away in Umbilicus and read, this one specific night had him swiftly escape it, looking for anything else to distract himself with.

Because between his many, many books – most of them an effect of the Ironworks insane scheme describing the things to come to pass on the Source – there was one black journal he scarcely dared to look at, much less open. He read it once only, back in the doomed timeline when the engineers of the future added their tweaks to the Tower – and barely a peek between its pages broke his heart too many times to count.

Senri's journal… that mysteriously found its way to him despite how impossible sounded the Ironworks' insistence that they found the book with him inside the Tower. And no matter how much he asked, Biggs III would repeat the same story: that when they found him asleep atop the crystalline throne of his ancestors, the small book was safely tucked in between his arms. That despite the fact that it contained entries from after he sealed himself away… somehow, in some way, it was with him all this time… And that specific night, it felt like a punishment from the gods.

Because provoked by his longing for him, and perhaps not as clearly remembering the heartbreak of the previous read a few years afterward, he dared to open it once more.

He somewhat vaguely remembered seeing the same book in his lover's hands during their time together. Even remembered laughing once at his Warrior's adorable blush when he teased him, catching him once scribbling something down as he thought him napping. And perhaps that was what led him to take another gander at its pages, smiling wistfully at the memory of his childishness in those days…

He wasn't sure, but when yet another long, lonely night threatened his sanity, his curiosity won over his trepidation, and somewhat led by that memory, he gingerly set to look for whatever reason behind his lover's blush that day… and instead found so much more.

'Raha didn't laugh. No, instead, he looked at me with this earnest look in his huge, red-cyan eyes and a bit funnily enough set to make me proper nest. But that he would do that meant everything. Azeyma, I thought I was in love with him before, but that… made it so much clearer. He's good and kind, my Raha, and that aching part of me still can't believe that he would agree to be mine. Now I wonder how to get him to the Stones and to my 'real' nest, and if I can, then ask him to remake that one, too. Ridiculous, but the idea of him setting up a nest for us is….'

The note cut off there, marking the moment when he 'woke up' and made fun of his lover's apparent fluster… and his throat felt too tight to breathe at the sight of a visibly later added shorter note.

'I still regret I didn't have occasion to do it. Had him right there, and if I knew what that call would bring... I couldn't keep him, but I have so little left of him… if I could pick, that would be it: a nest made by my Raha for me. For us. Perhaps a promise of that would make it easier to miss him… Maybe it would make it worse, I don't know, but I still regret not asking.'

And that was enough for him to put the book away with near reverence it deserved, then scramble as far away from it as possible while staying inside the Tower, wandering the many empty rooms until he could breathe without the risk of falling apart and his vision grew less blurry.

Even knowing that he would see him again – eventually – for once didn't soothe the ache of his broken heart, overshadowed by the fact that even then, he couldn't have him.

His silly, sweet Snark. His gorgeous, fierce beast that, above all else, yearned for someone to accept what his under the mask and all the boundless, unyielding devotion he had so much to offer. Who gave, gave, and gave – never asking for anything in return, but only showered G'raha in the attention and doting he so desperately needed… Who loved him enough to let him go, no matter how much it broke both of their hearts…

…his Snark that was killed by a Garlean poison and though this whole ordeal was a mad bid to stop that atrocity from coming to pass… The thought – not the for the first time – had him breaking into tears. Because even if… when he succeeded, and his Warrior would live, unaware of his identity… or what almost became his fate… He wished so badly to be able to see that shine in his ice-blue eyes again.

When he managed to calm down and realized how was standing in one of the crystalline chambers, weeping as the old, lovesick fool that he was… that word came back, bouncing mercilessly about his aching heart.

A promise.

He didn't really need an explanation to understand the meaning behind it: as his heart translated it far too easily. For Senri, his 'silly' habit was a memento of the only time in his childhood when he didn't feel weird or different from others. When he and the boys he grew up with would huddle up together for heat during especially chilly nights, he would just be one of them. Of the time before his unnatural beauty so fiercely set him apart from anyone else and brought nothing but misery to his sensitive heart. His blankets – sown by his beloved mother to mark his birthday – only added the meaning to his 'real' nest… but the idea behind that heart-wrenching words was simple: in G'raha making him… them a nest, he would be promising himself to his Snark and suddenly he as fiercely regretted not being able to do so.

To show his beautiful beast – without the need for words – that he accepted and loved all of him, including his quirks. That even if it wasn't meant to be… he wanted to be his – always.

A promise… to be his…

And as he looked about that dusty, empty room… an idea of his 'project' bloomed in his head: to create a nest for his lover's pleasure, even if he can never let him see it. But the idea by itself sparked a near-forgotten enthusiasm in his heart, and soon he found most of his nights consumed by it.

Thinking of what would put that shine in his lover's pale eyes easily brought the concept of the theme of colors to the forefront of his mind. Crimson shades of red to appeal to his lover's taste and ink-black to mark his own fascination with the uncanny silk of Senri's hair – entangled with each other to symbolize their union. Soon the crafters of the Mean didn't even raise their eyebrows at his seemingly 'nonsensical' orders if they were requested in those specific shades, and he was more than glad to hide his embarrassing blushes in the shade of his cowl. Putting the whole thing together took moons, with years to come that brought him to tweak or change whatever came to mind – and it became somewhat of a soothing habit to think of improvements to his project whenever his heart grew too heavy with surrounding him tragedy.

Then, once the dual-colored chamber was completed, more often than not, nights would find him self-consciously discarding his Allagan robes and curling into a fetal position in between the mix of red and black pillows. Wrapping his arms around his by-then half-crystalized body and closing his eyes, he would dare imagine a bigger, muscular body wrapped around him with an unmatched mix of possessiveness and tenderness. Sometimes, mercifully, he would drift off to the edge of consciousness, and in those moments, he could clearly remember how that felt: to be surrounded by Senri's scent and heat. The way his lover would rumble strings of sleepy snore-purrs, nuzzling against his ears – and how his sounds would lull him in and out of the doze, making him feel safe and loved like nothing else ever could. Made him almost taste the delicious mix of their scents, making his stupid heart flutter helplessly in the intoxicating sensation of being wanted… Almost felt the heavy, soothing length of his lover's ink-black tail wrapped around him securely in an unconscious but obvious claim.

Some days, he came out of that doze impossibly soothed, brimming with a new determination.

Others, he woke up weeping, missing the real thing so much the illusion was more of a punishment than a dream… Reminding him of what he lost and could never have again far too clearly.

But no matter how much it hurt on those days, he never regretted creating his tribute to the side of his lover's personality that only he was allowed to see.

A promise – that no matter how doomed it was – all he was and ever would be, his heart and soul, belonged to the beast hidden behind his lover's pale eyes and the fake cheer of his mask. The world and its future might need the Warrior – and he was more than willing to pay the price for his salvation – but 'Snark' was only his.

And in the end, he somewhat came to believe that his lover, even more than him, understood the intended surrender behind his 'project,' considering how utterly enamored Senri grew with his creation when his plans fell apart due to 'Ascians' intervention.

Once thanks to Damon's talents, he could transport it across the Rift, his project achieved perfection incorporating his lover's precious blankets. That, somehow, felt like mixing the old and new promise of their relationship – even if he never dared to show his mate the small, black book that sparked his creation to life in the first place.

Once the threat of the Final Days was long behind them and they settled into a much slower and calmer rhythm of their new freedom, their nest found its final destination in their bedroom – if it felt like it would take years for him not to wake up awed by his – then – husband's secure embrace. And no matter if they spent the day together or separately, each night – inevitably – found them entangled into each other's arms between the foray of red and black pillows and blankets – more often than not gingerly joined by one or more of their growing feline horde.

Raha would fall asleep to his lover's heat and their scents as entangled as their limbs – and wake up to the same. And no matter how much time passed, every time worked to make him feel blessed.

Most of all: with the ability to fulfill that promise hidden behind their nest.


Bonus: "PROMISE"


The answer to a near-forgotten by then question Raha found almost accidentally during one of their occasional visits to their friends in the First.

Almost ready to leave and go back home, Ardbert – in his old, half-crystalized skin – startled them by gasping out of nowhere and scampering to the Umbilicus, leaving him and Senri exchanging baffled looks, before their friend came back with a familiar, black book in hand and a silly, sheepish grin on his face.

"I think you forgot this," he said, handing it to Senri, and Raha felt himself pale, recognizing it instantly. His lover did too, judging by his expression, turning it in his hand with a confused frown – knowing that identical book rested in one of the many pockets of his pants – as out of habit developed over the years, he never parted with it. "I found it in there…." Ardbert added, pointing his crystalized thumb toward the door he left slightly ajar. "…when I was trying to sort all of those books moons ago, but I kept forgetting to give it back whenever you were here."

"I don't understand…" his lover murmured, opening and leafing through the book before Raha could even think of any reasonable explanation how could he forget about this when Senri stopped on the last page and its mysterious, most baffling part. A note that neither he nor the Ironworks could understand or make sense of as it was written in a language none of them ever saw before. And when Senri looked up at him, a big, crooked grin bloomed on his beautiful face to match his immortal passenger's sky-blue eyes that sparked toward him with a strange kind of humor. "…I see."

"Huh?" he hummed with confusion, moving his eyes between the open book and Ares's grin.

This was a message to me, my boy, Damon chimed in with a sheepish chuckle, making him nearly jump at the suddenness of it. In our native language. Which reminds me… He felt a familiar pull, then he found himself in their 'room' in the back of his mind, through its transparent walls watching Damon take the book from Ares's hands and close it, then tap the edge of it against his chin as he smirked, completely ignoring clearly baffled Ardbert next to them.

"I did lose that bet, Ares," he said with a somewhat funnily snobbish tone, raising his eyebrows at his husband pointedly. "But before you name your prize, my love, answer me this: when did you plant that book with us…? Because by some entries…."

"I didn't," Ares shrugged helplessly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pants as his grin dimmed some. "I guess… I was bound to do so, you know, eventually… but though I more than recognize my handwriting, I didn't write this, Damon."

He thought that, for once, he understood something sooner than his Ancient did – or perhaps Damon preferred the denial – as his hand clenched around the book and fell to his side limply. But while he was quite well versed in the idea that he left behind a timeline where his lover died, possibly for an immortal being like Damon this far, the idea was too alien to register truly…

…or he refused to acknowledge it as Raha did in those first few moments of waking up in a doomed world…

Because this made it a fact that Damon's Ares perished alongside Raha's Senri in that miserable timeline – and he thought that when his immortal uttered a tiny, choked whine was the moment when Damon truly let himself think of that in such context.

Or perhaps the way he pounced at Ares a moment later was a better indication – as the desperation with which he fisted his hands in his lover's black shirt and pulled him down into an almost violent kiss spoke volumes.

"I understand now," Damon whispered when they parted, though wrapped his hand around Ares's neck, holding his somewhat confused-looking husband close enough that their foreheads met as he tilted his head and closed his eyes, locking Raha in darkness for a moment. "What you felt when I pulled that… stunt with Meteion… I get it, Ares. I never let myself think that you… that you died for our plans to arrive here, but if I did… if I realized the price…."

"I know," Ares sighed, and when Damon opened his eyes and looked at him with surprise, his husband chuckled sheepishly and wrapped his hands around the redhead's face, then put a tender kiss on top of his nose. "And I know… I suck for giving you hell over what you did, Damon, because I know that… that me did the same thing. Because I knew that you weren't thinking about that part, love, but knowing you… I never pointed that out. Mortality was so abstract back then, and as I didn't yet know that I would bound myself to Senri as I did… It didn't seem real, but… I know that even now, knowing all of that, for you and our boys, I would do anything… as you did, for us. But what hurt me is not that, Damon, but the fact that you robbed me of even being aware of losing you. That to spare my feelings… you took the eons we spent together from me… and if your plan would work, I wouldn't even be able to mourn you. And the knowledge that you would do so again… scares me," he admitted in a whisper, leaning his forehead against Damon's with a deep sigh. "So if I can cash in on that bet… of that other me, I guess I would ask you for one thing, my beautiful scholar."

"Anything…" Damon replied thickly, wrapping his hands around his lover's wrists.

"A promise," Ares answered, lifting his head to catch his lover's gaze into a snare of the bright, sky-blue irises. "A promise that no matter what comes… That is something you would never do to me again, Damon. An oath that you would let me fulfill my vows to you, my heart, and if it comes to that, pass into the aetherial sea alongside you. And never – ever – again would you take my love to you from me. I am no longer bound to Senri as I was and allowed to pick… I refuse to live without you."

"I promise, Ares," Damon sighed and was rewarded with a long, scorching kiss…

…and Raha smiled, thinking that perhaps this was a first, steady step toward the unspoken rift in the bond between their – his and Senri's – immortals toward healing.

Gods knew, he more than anyone, realized the power behind a promise.