#koana/g'raha tia/wol

[astrology-bf]

Crystal Clear

(CW: Dawntrail and other MSQ Spoilers, Light Angst, Implied NSFW)

After the unexpected illness of one of the Thavnarian delegation’s chief members, which was explained away as food poisoning (but likely the result of far too much mezcal the previous night), the Vow of Reason had found himself with a free afternoon. 

There were other matters that he might attend to, but Lamaty’i suggested that he take advantage of the opportunity and spend time on himself. Koana could tell his little sister worried that he wasn’t giving himself space to mourn their father’s passing, and she’d been quite delighted when he said he’d spend the day out in the city. Which was true: he just wasn’t specific as to which part of the city he’d be going to, that being the For’ard Cabins where the Warrior of Light was staying.

He hadn’t given himself space to mourn intentionally, but his talk with Ifan on the balcony had helped greatly. They’d held each other tightly while they wept and found catharsis, and then they’d had a talk. A long one, during which Koana learned a great deal more about him. 

Ifan had explained where each scar came from. The ‘godbrand’ was Ifrit’s, as he had mentioned. The bullet wound was dealt by Yotsuyu goe Brutus, the now-dead Witch of Doma. The scars across his shoulderblade were from Nidhogg's shade as it possessed Estinien. The slice across his chest was from Elidibus in Zenos’ body: one that nearly killed him, had it not been for the intervention of Fordola and aforementioned dragoon. 

The worst one, however, was not visible. Ifan said another Ascian had piloted the body of a man he loved and lowered Ifan’s guard by feigning that the man had managed to regain control, before he struck him through the chest. It killed him, and that Ifan lived and breathed was solely owed to Hydaelyn. He didn’t say who the man was.

Koana had asked about his marking, too. He hadn’t given the tattoo much thought, as such were common in Tural, but when he gave more thought to Ifan’s body when he’d caught a glimpse of it he noticed how distinct it was: an ax upon Ifan’s right wrist, hafted with four sparking stars. Ifan had been hesitant, but then with honesty he told Koana about Ardbert and his friends. The Vow of Reason found the tale a little much at points, and had to wipe his eyes as Ifan recounted its unlikely beginnings and tragic, if bittersweet, conclusion. 

It also put some things into perspective, specifically one G’raha Tia. The man seemed roughly Ifan and Koana’s age, yet had the bearing and the manner of someone much older (for the most part). Ifan seemed near deferential to him, too, calling him ‘my lord Exarch’... a reference to his time upon the First, and of the vigil he’d conducted there. Ifan had explained how he and G’raha met, then parted, then met again. How much the pair had sacrificed for one another, and for the world. Two worlds, in fact. 

He hadn’t quite known how to feel about it all. It seemed impossible at points, traveling between reflections, or to the moon, or to the universe’s edge. Koana didn’t doubt Ifan was truthful, though, and as the tale neared its end the Vow of Reason settled on feeling sad for Ifan, appreciative that such a man desired his company, and missing Gulool Ja Ja since the Head of Reason would probably know just what to say about it. But Ifan seemed to feel better having talked about it to a friend who had fresh eyes, and reassured Koana that he would be all right and would speak to Krile and G’raha about how he felt. And he’d thanked Koana, earnestly, before he’d asked the Vow of Reason if he’d like to talk about his family.

Koana’s instinct was to say he didn’t, but after Ifan was so truthful he would have felt ashamed… So he talked. He was honest with the Warrior of Light about his feelings towards his father and his brother, his wondering if there was something else he could have done to dissuade Zoraal Ja, or stop him at the very least, how he missed his father but wondered if either of Gulool Ja Ja’s heads had actually believed in him, and how he thought he knew himself and felt that he was flailing but unable to speak up because being Dawnservant was what he wanted. Ifan listened while he held his hands, and didn’t judge him. And when Koana finished speaking, he felt a little lighter.

They ended up in conversation longer than Koana had expected, and though he’d missed a planned engagement he didn’t feel it too dishonest to apologize with the excuse that something urgent had come up. It had: Ifan needed him, and he had needed space to grieve, as well.

While Ifan appeared fine enough when they had parted, their talk was on Koana’s mind as he considered what he’d do with his free afternoon. Even if Ifan was busy, he wanted to check up on him. So he took the aethernet to the For’ard Cabins, and then made his way to Ifan’s door before he knocking politely.

There was no answer for a moment, and then the shutting spell upon the door was disengaged. It opened to reveal not Ifan, but rather G’raha Tia. 

“Oh!” The archon blinked at Koana, and then smiled brightly. “Vow Koana, what a pleasant surprise.” he said.

Koana blinked in turn, lips pursing for a moment. He’d forgotten that the red-headed Hhetsarro - Miqo’te, rather - had opted to share Ifan’s cabin. Which made sense, as they were partners. Koana tried not to think too hard about the fact he’d done… things… with the Sharlayan’s lover, and gave a courteous nod. “Apologies. A good day to you, G’raha Tia.” he greeted, giving a small smile.

G’raha’s ears flicked happily as he grinned. “And to you, as well. What may I do for you?” he asked, expression settling into a friendly smile.

“I…” The Vow of Reason had to pause and clear his throat nearly inaudibly. “I had come to see Ifan, but I would not wish to disturb the pair of you.” he explained, feeling his cheeks tingle. He wasn’t quite sure if it was embarrassment, or if it was the warmth in G’raha’s eyes.

“Not at all.” answered G’raha with a small shake of his head. “He is only gone briefly to fetch food, and should return shortly. You are more than welcome to come in and wait, if you would prefer. I confess I have been wanting the chance to speak with you myself.” he suggested, stepping aside and inviting Koana in.

Koana tried not to swallow visibly. He couldn’t hide forever, and Ifan had assured him that the archon was quite fine with it. And G’raha seemed entirely friendly, and quite pleased to see Koana, too. So he nodded. “If I am not imposing.” he said, entering the cabin.

“No imposition at all.” replied G’raha cheerfully as he closed the door behind them. “Will you take refreshment?” he offered, gesturing at the table where water and some beverage bottles had been placed. 

“I am fine for now, thank you. Your hospitality is much appreciated.” responded Koana with a gracious nod.

“‘Tis the least I can do after you and Lamaty’i have taken such good care of Ifan and the others, to say nothing of your own hospitality.” replied G’raha with a small laugh as he moved to lean against the table.

Koana’s ears flicked and he gave a faintly bashful smile as he clasped his hands behind his back. “We have been blessed to have your aid and friendship. I wish only that your first visit to Tural was under less troubling circumstances.” he replied, unable to stop the faint twinge of misgiving on his face.

G’raha seemed to notice, his smile growing more sympathetic. “You have my condolences, Koana. If there is anything I am able to do…” he offered, head tilting slightly with a small note of concern.

The Vow of Reason found himself a little heartened by the archon’s words and smile. Speaking to him was quite soothing: no wonder Ifan seemed enamored of him. “It is appreciated. You have my heartfelt thanks.” he answered, giving G’raha a warm smile. Then he nodded. “Time is what is necessary, I would think.” he added.

“Of course.” answered G’raha with a nod. Then he hummed. “Well… If you should want for any counsel, I have some small experience in leadership. Though you seem to be settling into the role with more grace than I did mine, I confess.” he offered, giving Koana a kind grin as both his ears flicked.

Koana felt a smile pull at his lips, but privately he found the archon’s words ridiculous. Ifan told him what that ‘small experience’ entailed, and yet there wasn’t any hint of false humility in G’raha’s words. He just seemed the sort of man to view that sort of labor as a triviality considering the prizes, and one who didn’t hesitate to put himself in danger for the sake of others. A hero, if Koana had to put a word to it, and of the kind most people would describe - rather than Koana’s use of the term to describe the author of one of his favorite works on Allagan history. He found himself admiring the Miqo’te for quite different reasons than his scholarship. 

He have a thankful nod. “Ifan had mentioned you had a task of some responsibility.” answered Koana, diplomatically. “Though that was his perspective, which he admitted was incomplete.” he added.

G’raha raised an eyebrow and an ear at the revelation, and then chuckled. “You are welcome to ask, ‘tis less a secret and more exceedingly complicated.” he said, giving Koana a wry nod.

Koana felt his lips begin to twist as he looked G’raha up and down. There was a question that he had, one that only could be answered by someone like his father. He hadn’t had the chance to ask, because it hadn’t yet occurred to him until he and Lamaty’i were actually on their own, leading Tural. He swallowed. “...Was it difficult?” he asked.

The former Crystal Exarch’s expression settled into something thoughtful, though his eyes remained on Koana sympathetically. He gave an honest nod. “At points.” he admitted. “The nature of the service meant there were many sacrifices, but… I would do it again, given the results.” stated G’raha, firmly. Then he huffed through his nose in faint amusement at himself, and nodded. “That said, had I the opportunity to correct my errors: I would tell myself to be less distant from those in my charge. And more mindful of my own welfare… for my own sake, and for Ifan’s.” he finished, giving the Vow of Reason a reassuring smile.

His words were indeed reassuring. Based on what Ifan had told Koana of the Crystal Exarch, he seemed a near impossible man: one that had lived centuries and rewritten history to avert a Calamity in the Source and save the First from both Sin Eaters and itself. That someone like that stumbled, made errors, and would correct himself if he were able… It made the task of being Dawnservant less daunting. Certainly much more so knowing he could seek out people like G’raha and Ifan for assistance. “You give good counsel. I will keep it in mind: thank you, for bringing me some ease.” he said, giving an appreciative nod. “It is obvious why he values your company so highly. You seem very happy together.” observed Koana, smiling slightly to himself as he remembered the way Ifan’s face always lit up when he was speaking of the archon.

G’raha’s smile turned slightly bashful, his ears splaying in gratitude at Koana’s compliment. Then he gave the Hhetsarro a knowing smile. “I daresay the same applies to you and he, as well.” he said, wryly.

The Vow of Reason pursed his lips, one ear lowering awkwardly. Of course Ifan had already told him that they’d… But perhaps he hadn’t, and Koana was just poor at concealing it. He cleared his throat a little. “Is it so obvious?” he asked, chin lowering a little as his toes curled in his boots.

G’raha couldn’t help but chuckle at the look Koana had on his face. He tilted his head reassuringly. “Endearingly so. You need not be nervous.” he answered, ears flicking briefly as his tail curled. 

Koana felt his cheeks begin to burn a little. His gaze started to drift off to the side, finding the situation difficult to navigate. He swallowed. “...I would not wish to come between you.” It was a few moments before he realized his unintentional innuendo. His ears rose up as his expression fell, then he pouted as his ears splayed flat and tail curled in embarrassment.

Where Ifan would likely have teased him, G’raha blinked and pouted slightly to conceal a little smirk. Koana noted a faint tinge of pink appear upon the archon’s cheeks as his ears flicked back in amusement: a strangely boyish bearing for a man of G’raha’s true age, but one that suited him immensely. He made no comment on it, however, save a small chuckle. “Neither he nor I are of a sort to be jealous of our feelings.” he reassured. “I do not doubt his affection or loyalty, nor he mine. If anything, ‘tis all the sweeter seeing how happy you and my dear champion make one another.” he said, giving Koana a delighted grin.

An appreciative huff left Koana’s lips. He closed his eyes as his ears flicked back, nervousness ebbing thanks to G’raha’s quite comforting demeanor. “He does.” he admitted, with a nod. “He has been very patient with me, given my inexperience. I am curious how much he has told you.” added Koana, a little hesitantly.

G’raha’s face settled into a soothing smile. “Nothing specific; he and I respect the wishes of those that prefer discretion.” he explained.

Koana admitted that surprised him. Ifan seemed so casual with his bed… but then again, he’d not said anything about even the neck massage in Kozama’uka. Lamaty’i had no idea that he and Ifan were that close, nor were there rumors of a tryst between the Vow of Reason and the guest from overseas. Ifan kept his confidence, save to his partner, and even then he’d limited it to what was necessary. G’raha, too, was keeping Koana’s confidence.

It took him a few moments to identify the feeling, but Koana realized he felt safe around the pair. Neither of them judged or pushed him, and both sought to keep his trust. He’d barely spoken to the archon, and already he’d been given sage advice and reassurance. Koana felt lucky, too. His ears flicked, and he gave a very happy nod. “That is very considerate of him, and yourself. You have my thanks.” he stated, earnestly.

G’raha grinned at him warmly, and Koana felt a little swell within his chest at the delight on the Miqo’te’s face. “‘Tis no worry, I well remember being inexperienced. And I would wager that he does, as well. We were not always as certain of what we liked.” he added, glancing off to the side with wry amusement.

His words brought to mind something Ifan said, the night he and Koana kissed for the first time. The Vow of Reason felt his cheeks darken again. “He said you might like to kiss me.” he muttered, looking off towards the side.

The archon raised an eyebrow. Then he hummed as he looked Koana up and down, fighting a smirk. “My mighty champion is rarely wrong in that regard.” he admitted, giving the Vow of Reason a small wink before he chuckled at himself. 

Koana blinked furiously and pouted slightly, ears splaying back. He was far from used to one man flirting with him, let alone a second. Especially considering the second one was G’raha Tia, of all people. The Vow of Reason gave an awkward chuckle in return. “I will admit, this is not how I imagined a conversation with you, after reading your thesis.” he stated, ears relaxing.

G’raha’s ears shot up, all coyness vanished and replaced with incredulous delight. “Oh? You have read it?” he asked, giving Koana a wide grin as his tail curled happily.

The sudden shift in demeanor made Koana blink again, but he immediately returned a smile at seeing how thrilled the archon was. Just looking at him made the Hhetsarro feel warm. He nodded. “It was most thought-provoking. One of my favorites, in fact.” he said, his own ears giving a flick.

A happy huff left G’raha’s lips. “I should love to hear your thoughts on it! It has been an age since I have actually looked at it, myself.” he admitted, it likely being a literal age since having done so. 

Koana made to answer, but was interrupted by the shutting spell upon the door being disengaged. “Hope you’re hungry, ‘Raha.” said Ifan as he entered with a paper bag in hand: quite a big one. “Aunt Tii gave me extra-” he stopped and blinked as he caught sight of Koana, looking between him and G’raha. Then he scoffed, and gave a happy grin. “Well, if this isn’t a lovely surprise.” he proclaimed, closing the door and heading to set the bag down on the table. 

G’raha’s ears wiggled happily as he hefted himself up from where he leaned. “Welcome back, dear heart. Koana was being a most gracious host and entertaining me in your absence.” he explained, giving Koana another smile. 

Ifan glanced at Koana, then smiled thankfully in turn. “Sounds about right.” he chuckled. Then he walked up to the archon and leaned down for a kiss, meeting G’raha’s lips languidly.

Koana pursed his lips a little and looked away while the pair kissed. His eyebrow rose, however, as their lips parted and Ifan moved over to him. “Hey, you.” he greeted, and leaned down to kiss Koana in turn. The Vow of Reason’s ears and tail shot up at being kissed in front of Ifan’s partner, but the Hyur’s familiar feel and scent had him relaxed enough that he returned it. He glanced at G’raha as Ifan stood up, and flushed at the small wink that the Miqo’te gave him. 

The Vow of Reason cleared his throat, then looked up at the Warrior of Light. “Ifan. Good day to you.” he greeted, wincing slightly at his formality considering the circumstances.

Ifan smiled down at him, reaching up to give his nose a little tap. “And you. Thank you for taking care of my dear lord, I apologize for interrupting.” he said, glancing over at G’raha.

G’raha shook his head. “We were just about to discuss my old thesis.” he stated, looking at Koana with clear intent to dredge him for his thoughts on Allag. He hummed, then glanced at the large bag. “If there is extra food… Would you wish to join us for lunch, Koana? You have my curiosity rather piqued, regarding your thoughts.” His ears flicked in excitement as he extended his invitation.

Ifan let out a teasing groan. “Here we go. Someone mentioned Allag around G’raha Tia.” he laughed, then stuck his tongue out at G’raha in retaliation for the latter doing the same. Koana had to chuckle at the sight of the two men doing so. Then Ifan turned his gaze back to Koana with a happy grin. “Well?” he asked. “I wouldn’t mind spending a little more time with you as well, dear prince, if you can spare it.” Then he reached up to brush his thumb against Koana’s chin.

It struck Koana then just how at ease he felt. He had no pressing tasks, the carne asada in the paper bag smelled heavenly, and the company of these two men was equal parts thrilling and comforting. He had a lot of thoughts on The Decline and Fall of the Allagan Empire , and sitting down to talk about it with its author and his partner sounded wonderful. Ifan seemed much happier than he had done up on the balcony, and while he wasn’t sure if he’d talked to Krile or G’raha about his misgivings yet, it also seemed Koana himself had helped immensely, much as Ifan and G’raha had for him. 

It was strange. Normally he felt so tightly wound, like if he let his guard down then a spring would fly free of some clockwork mechanism that would jam and catch on fire. But right now, he felt he was in good hands. So he gave a grin, and let his ears wiggle openly before he nodded. “As it so happens… I may have some time to spare.”

[mightier]

territory I think I've figured out what gets G'raha to finally follow us to Tural.

[agui-chart]

Asteria journey on Tural was... a bit chaotic...

[yzeltia]

WOL/Raha Week Day 2 Colors

Rating: T for Teen Characters: G'raha Tia, Keith Summers, Kirian Summers Notes: Don't mess with the hawk.

Keith chuckled a bit as he pulled Kirian’s nightshirt over his head, finding his son’s sandy-blond hair dyed green and self-styled into his usual faux-hawk while G’raha sang in the shower in the background. “I think someone had a bit too much fun with U’vi today? Did U’rahn bring her over to play,” he asked, knowing the girl’s love for play aesthetician with her sisters and more often than not his son.

“Huh? No. I haven’t seen U’vi since we came to Tural,” Kirian said, yawning as he wrapped his arms around his pa so that he could be carried to his bed.

“Ah. I see. And where exactly did this come from,” Keith asked, laughing as he hoisted his son up on his hip then ran his hand through his son’s hair only to have the boy swat away the touch in a huff.

“Don’t mess with the hawk dad,” Kirian whined, holding his pa’s wrist firmly away from his head before finding himself dropped onto his bed. He crossed his arms then shrugged, “U’vi showed me how to make hair dyes with stuff around the house. I wanted to have green hair today like Varshahn and Mr. Koana today. Maybe tomorrow I can make it red like dad’s.”

“Ah. Guess we have a little alchemist on our hands,” Keith said, pulling the covers over his son to tuck him in. “Though, you should ask before you do something like that so that we can make sure you have a safe space and aren’t using anything dangerous. Ah…speaking of which, do I need to go clean up something?”

Kirian yawned a little then shrugged and turned over. “I only used stuff in the bathroom and some fern leaves and mixed it in the shampoo so it wouldn’t get messy.”

“Good thinking buddy! Sleep tight, love ya,” Keith said before backing away quietly as Kirian settled down.

“Love you too,” the boy responded sheepishly.

Keith smiled to himself as he went into the living area of their cabin to wait for G’raha, happy that both of his kids seemed to be far brighter than he ever was at their respective ages. Putting his arms behind his head, he closed his eyes then openly in a start, standing upright and breathing out, “The Shampoo!”

Rushing to the bathroom, Keith flung over the door, finding G’raha stepping out naked, running his towel through his hair. Looking up, G’raha tilted his head and pulled his towel free, revealing his dyed-green hair. “Is something wrong,” he asked, ears twitching as Keith covered his mouth and tried to stifle a laugh. “What!?”

Keith shook his head, unable to bring himself to answer beyond pointing to the mirror. G’raha turned, eyes widening in horror before letting out, “I’M GREEEEEEEEN,” so loud that it did not miss a single soul’s ear that boarded at For’ ard. 

[landshorizon]

Welcome and well met, my Brave Little Spark ✨️

FFXIV fans who roleplay, you might be interested in this!

I'm Oli, a 25+ trans masc and queer writer looking for someone 21+ to play G'raha Tia against my trans male Viera Warrior of Light, or someone to play Wuk Lamat against my cis female Hrothgar Warrior of Light.

I will be doubling up for you, of course, and will take a good shot at any of the Scions, Koana, Wuk Lamat, or a myriad of other characters from XIV that you might want to pair with your WoL! (I've been playing for 8+ years and know my way around most characters, I think!)

While I myself am seeking a Trans M (my WoL) x Trans or Cis M (G'raha Tia) pairing and a Cis F (my other WoL) x Trans or Cis F (Wuk Lamat), I will happily fill any gender role you like, and you can absolutely play your WoL how you see fit as any gender of course. Trans characters, nonbinary characters, and intersex characters are absolutely loved, as long as they are not referred to using derogatory slurs like 'fu*a' or 'tr*p', and are not treated as purely fetish objects.

I am looking for a balance between plot and adult themes - I do not mind fading to black, OOC discussing a sex scene and leaving it at that, or full-blown IC paragraphs of smut. There will likely be canon typical dark themes, of course, alongside anything adult we add in. I'd like a decent split of plot to smut if possible - 30/70 in favour of plot at the least, moving to even 70/30 in favour of smut is fine by me. I expect and embrace darker themes and am more than happy to discuss kink as well.

What can I offer other than just my WoL and the other half of your WoLship? Well, we'll be RPing mainly on Discord preferably, so lots of fun things there like meme channels, OOC chat, the list goes on. And heck, even things like GPosing - which I love to do - and making playlists or edits and all that fun stuff comes along with me being your RP partner!

I'm a lazy lit writer who's not overly picky on grammar and spelling or typos. As long as we understand each other, it's all good. I typically type between 1 small para for fast moving scenes and anything up to 6 paras+ in length for scene intros and intermissions.

I am open to RPing in world as well as on Discord. I'm even up for throwing our WoLs at each other if you wanna do that! (I have three WoLs, and only one is mentioned here! I also have a cis fem Hrothgal and a trans fem Elezen, amongst many other OCs who are inactive if none of these scratch an itch for you. If I like you enough I'll happily make characters specifically for your plot lines even!)

My characters have bios and dossiers, but most aren't written up yet. That said, I'm always happy to talk about my characters at length, so either ask, or DM me, or Discord DM me!

If this sounds interesting to you, please like or reply to this post with your Discord username, or message me on mine, or even message my FFXIV blog @landshorizon You can find me at oli.writes.stuff on Discord. :)

[captainqster]

Dawntrail thoughts below. Major spoilers of course

I'll start off by saying that I enjoyed it. Some of the cutscenes were so fun and DT managed to make me cry at the end. The most important thing for me is that the story have an emotional impact on me and this one did. Not as much as SHB or even EW, but that's to be expected given they were the final two expansions in an ongoing story.

ANYWAY I don't intend to rant too much so I'll just make some key points about what I remember (which is never much, I have a terrible memory).

The environments! I'm not one to veer off course during msq to explore the scenery but this time I was doing that constantly. I was in HEAVEN in the desert areas especially, as I live in the Sonoran desert but Thanalan and Ahm Araeng never did much for me. Urqopacha was just beautiful, I could afk there all day. Solution 9 is even more incredible than I'd dared to hope. And Tuliyollal...my goodness.

The worldbuilding. I enjoyed the time spent fleshing out these cultures and the 'why and when' of some of their traditions. Cooking the...what was it called...was fun, I come from a Hispanic family and cooking massive batches of food together was always a big part of get togethers, especially around the holidays (I am made to suffer the tamale assembly line every year). So I liked when you were made to understand the people and why they do what they do and the impact it has on their community bonds.

The duties. Really liked those as well. Can I remember anything? No. Do I have a lingering feeling of "that was new" leftover? Yes.

The NPCs. New cast! Somehow I didn't anticipate the turnaround of both Zoraal Ja and Bakool Ja Ja, but I love a reformed cartoon bully and a Golden Child who crumples under the weight of expectation. Koana is incredible, I was iffy about him at first but you could hear the desperation in his voice when Wuk Lamat was kidnapped (fantastic job by the voice actor, sincerely) and from there I just continued to love him more.

For Wuk Lamat specifically she really grated on my nerves for the first few levels. I know the intention of her archetype/character growth, but it felt like some of her frequent complaining was played for comedy and it just fell flat for me. But the moment she said "hey I'm gonna turn around and be better" she really did do that. Asking to hold the WOL's hand and her little "um...do you want to explore with me?" AND WANTING THE WOL TO STAY IN TULIYOLLAL WITH HER god those just hit me right in the heart. She grew on me.

The final zone. I cried. I've seen some complaints about whiplash with the direction DT took from the first to second half, and I kind of get that, but for me it kept things a little fresher. I would have liked to see more payoff in Tural after all the time and energy you spent learning about the different cultures but it is what it is.

I love that SE decided that once you shut down a terminal you will lose the beauty of that area. It really made me hesitate and want to look around more, which just drove home the point of saying goodbye to the Endless. I was teary-eyed leading up to Cahciua's terminal especially. IDK I love my mom and it HURT SO BAD.

The cutscenes: Some of them were such a delight that I was in tears. I don't care if people found it cheesy, I LOVED the train bomb. At first I was disappointed that it wasn't going to be an interactive duty but watching G'raha Tia pull Alisaie back onto the platform just for the WOL to save them both? Jumping off the train? Everything my southwestern heart could want.

And the cowboys. The duels. The accents. I was in love.

Last thing I'll say is I've seen a lot of "do you need to be the hero?" questions/polls/etc. For me it's not about whether you're the hero, I just need to have that rapport with the NPCs and to feel present. So I appreciated the few times we got a bit of that.

Anyway I'm not gonna say anything negative because I just don't feel like it. There were a few things I would have liked to see done better, differently, whatever, but I'm satisfied enough. I'm really looking forward to what comes in the patches.

[astrology-bf]

A Lost Boy

(CW: Contains Dawntrail Spoilers, Heavy Angst, Grieving)

When Thancred Waters had asked Koana what he envisaged life as Dawnservant to be like, the Second Promise had to give his answer some deep thought. He knew what he would like to do, of course, as Koana didn’t go a day without thinking of some plan or project to advance Tural. But the day to day experience of leadership was really not a thing he could conceptualize: he’d only second hand experience, watching Gulool Ja Ja operate Tuliyollal’s levers of power. There was crisis, there was calm, but above all else the pace seemed steady. And so that was his answer: steady. Steadiness with which progress would be facilitated.

Nothing about the present situation could be called ‘steady’, however, even if the immediate crisis had now passed.

He and Lamaty’i had bid farewell to the Warrior of Light as he ventured north with Erenville to see the latter’s mother up in Yyasulani, and Ifan had promised Koana that they’d spend a little time together upon his return. Koana had admittedly been looking forward to it, still utterly elated by a thrilling flight from Ul’dah to the Peaks of Gyr Abania culminating in Koana getting to both look and touch the ark at Nyunkrepf’s Hope. It had been something of a dream of his, albeit one of low priority, but still a dream that Ifan granted. It seemed like everything to do with him was magical, liable to turn completely upside down upon a moment’s notice. 

And it had: Gulool Ja Ja was dead by Zoraal Ja’s own hand, and the latter was defeated by Lamaty’i and her allies. The unknown party aiding Zoraal Ja, an animated echo of Queen Sphene of Alexandria, had brought a portion of the reflection where her realm existed to the Source in an attempt to drain its living aether to sustain the Endless souls within her charge. She too, had been defeated, by Ifan and Lamaty’i; but Alexandria remained rejoined, and now the task of integrating its inhabitants and technology into Etheirys loomed ahead. The crisis was now over, but the ground remained unsteady beneath Koana’s feet. He was just fortunate he had his sister and his allies, as he doubted that he could have managed even if he’d won the Rite of Succession…. Or perhaps he would have, as Ifan reassured him Thancred and Urianger would make sure that he was ready. Which they did, just not in the way Koana had expected.

The pair of them had disappeared again, likely to take their ease and celebrate a job well done. Ifan had remained in Tuliyollal, but he’d been busy catching up with G’raha Tia or in discussion with Y’shtola Rhul about the strange Mialla artifact he and Lamaty’i had been entrusted with by Sphene - not that Koana had much time to spare, himself, as he and his sister Dawnservant were fully occupied with dealing with the aftermath of what had happened. But they’d managed to find an afternoon for coffee and a brief discussion.

Ifan had seemed rather strained, to Koana’s eyes, as if he found his usual silliness a difficulty. It didn’t help that they’d mostly talked of Alexandria, as the Vow of Reason unable to repress his curiosity about the realm’s near-alien technology; and while Ifan had indulged and seemed interested in the more scholastic elements, it was clear to Koana that a lot of what he’d seen there had troubled the magician deeply. He spoke frankly to Koana, saying he felt electrope was dangerous and feared its presence in Etheirys. He’d also spoken with disgust of what the folk of Alexandria had done to Sphene: saying they violated a loving woman who gave her life for service, and turned her into a disgraceful parody so that they could have a fairy tale princess who would hold their hands. They hadn’t even bothered to give her shade the memory of what her favorite food was, and based on Sphene’s confusion at Lamaty’i’s asking it seemed not one person within Alexandria for several centuries had bothered asking Sphene if she was hungry - they only paid attention when she mothered them. And Ifan had admitted that he sympathized with Sphene, because he’d often felt similarly being Hydaelyn's champion.

Koana had been looking forward to spending time with Ifan, but after their discussion all he felt was worried.

He’d noticed Ifan’s scars that night where they’d first kissed. That was when he’d started wondering what it had taken for the Warrior of Light to get where he was, and the more he thought about it and the more he learned from Ifan of his past, the less he liked the sound of it. At Koana’s own age, he’d fought the Garlean Empire - faced Rhitahtyn sas Arvina, Livia sas Junius, and Gaius van Baelsar, defeating all of them in turn. He’d faced down the Ultima Weapon, and the Ascian Lahabrea., and won. He’d saved Ishgard from both Thordan and Nidhogg, helped liberate both Doma and Ala Mhigo and bested Zenos yae Galvus while the Prince was in a primal’s guise, no less. He’d traveled to another world, this ‘First’, which is how he and the other former Scions of the Seventh Dawn knew what they did. And then he’d returned, defeated Zodiark, and crossed the Sea of Stars to end the Final Days.

That was the narrative. But it omitted what Koana felt was important: how Ifan himself had felt about the whole affair. ‘Good and worthwhile’, he’d said, but that didn’t mean that it was painless, or that he was always happy. Based on their discussion, Koana felt that Ifan was in pain and struggling to be happy even with his partner present in Tuliyollal, and it worried him.

Koana wasn’t sure how to address it, though. Even if it wasn’t necessarily his business, Ifan had been there for him when he had struggled and it was only fair that Koana do the same. They were friends, after all. He considered seeking G’raha Tia out and mentioning the conversation to him, so that the archon could approach Ifan about it in a way he knew the Warrior of Light would like to be approached… but Koana wasn’t ready yet to have a one on one discussion with the Miqo’te, given that Ifan and Koana had been intimate and the latter was quite nervous as to G’raha’s reaction to it. That bit of apprehensiveness aside, it didn’t seem appropriate to Koana to go behind Ifan’s back like that.

He was pondering how best to approach Ifan as he walked along a hallway in the palace, a frown upon his face and his ears twitching faintly as he mused. As he passed by another hall that led onto a small balcony that overlooked the Skygate, he paused and sniffed the air - catching a familiar whiff that Koana now knew to be Ifan’s scent. Curious, he turned to follow it out to the balcony and saw the Warrior of Light himself upon it: seated on the railing, gazing out towards the Skygate and the bridge that led to Xak Tural where all the hells had broken loose.

Koana paused. Ifan hadn’t noticed him, apparently, and it seemed like he’d come up here to be alone. Perhaps he should just leave. 

But…

The Hhetsarro felt his lips twist. Then he steeled himself, and cleared his throat politely to announce his presence without startling Ifan.

“Hm?” hummed the magician as he glanced over one shoulder. He had a deadened look upon his face that made Koana’s tail fall lank. “Oh, Koana. Sorry. I didn’t see you there.” he stated, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Nice to see you.” he greeted.

“And you, my friend.” replied Koana, frowning visibly at the absence of the Hyur’s typical good cheer. He inhaled, trying to find some words to start with. “The view is pleasant, I trust?” he said, trying to repress the urge to bite down on his fist for opening with such a banal question.

Ifan nodded. “Aye. Am I allowed to be up here?” he asked, his eyes faintly beseeching.

Koana recoiled slightly and blinked sharply at the question. The notion that one of Tuliyollal’s saviors would need permission just to sit and watch the view seemed laughable… but it was more the fact that it was Ifan of all people asking that, as if he wasn’t confident. He’d never known the man as anything but brave and decisive. The Vow of Reason nodded, and gave a reassuring smile. “It is just a balcony. You are welcome here, whenever you wish.” he offered. Then he pursed his lips, ears falling slightly as he gave a worried frown.  “You seem distressed.” observed Koana.

The look that crossed his face was one that made Koana’s chest clench and his ears press nearly flat against his skull. Neither silly, nor serious… A lowering of both his eyebrows at the ends, a pained and barely present pout, and a slight recoiling of his head and neck. His gaze had shifted, too, off to the side and down. And for the first time since Koana had met him, he looked as young as he had read the Hyur was. 

Ifan pursed his lips, then shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, ‘tis fine.” he stated, quietly.

Koana shook his head, and swallowed as he stepped forward to lean upon the railing and meet Ifan’s eyes. He wasn’t any good at this… even when Lamaty’i had been troubled in their childhood, Koana had spoken to her as an older brother. Ifan was his equal and superior in many ways: it would be like trying to comfort Gulool Ja Ja. But Koana remembered what Thancred and Urianger had said, and spoke from the heart in hope that Ifan would understand.  “You have been a true friend to me, even when I have not deserved it. I wish to be here for you, Ifan. You can speak freely to me.” he said, as reassuringly as possible.

The Hyur glanced at him, and met his eyes. He swallowed. “I don’t want it to sound like I’m not happy for Krile.” he said, quietly.

One ear twitched briefly in confusion as to why Ifan should be distressed regarding Krile, but Koana simply nodded. “If you say you are, I will defend that. I still wish to hear your mind.” Koana reached one gloved hand over and placed it atop Ifan’s. Not squeezing, but offering the comfort.

There was a long and apprehensive silence before Ifan took Koana’s hand. He closed his eyes. “...They gave her up because they wanted her to have a decent chance. Because they loved her. ” he began, referring to Krile’s parents - or their Endless selves, which they’d encountered and bid farewell to in Living Memory. Ifan nodded after pausing, then continued. “I don’t doubt Lamaty’i’s natural parents loved her, too, and gave her up for similar reasons. Even ‘Raha… He lost his family, in Corvos, but they sent him away for his protection. But me?” He paused again, eyes opening and gazing into nothing. “I was left behind, like you. I don’t even know if it was for ‘necessity’, like with your folk… I am the Warrior of Light, so maybe there is some sort of secret story to it, but in all fairness… They probably just didn’t want me.” His voice had trailed to a whisper by the time he finished, lips barely closing all the way at the end of every sentence. Then a single, nearly silent, and completely mirthless huff escaped him. “Who would.” he muttered.

Koana stared at Ifan, ears standing upright in slight horror at the Hyur’s words. The man had friends, a loving partner, he was a skilled mage that got to see the world… And it seemed he genuinely believed that, after everything, he had no value. Suddenly Koana understood why Ifan asked permission just to sit. He understood, because he’d felt the same. Despite Gulool Ja Ja’s attentive parenting and Lamaty’i’s affection for her brother, Koana never managed to escape his tribe’s abandonment. That was what defined him - being left behind, and doing everything to make sure that no one ever would be after him. Magic left people behind, so he turned to technology. Tradition demanded that he be left behind, and so he turned to progress. It was a scar that was a part of him: a scar he shared with Ifan, it seemed like.

He swallowed, then moved to slide his arm around the Hyur’s waist. Whatever nervousness he felt at forwardness or impropriety took a backseat compared to how concerned he felt. “I would.” he said, reassuringly.

Ifan pursed his lips, then looked at Koana pleadingly. “If I were just Ifan Kaleid from Ul’dah, you wouldn’t know me. Nor would ‘Raha, or any of you. I’d just be a smart-arse adventurer, assuming I’d still be alive at all.” Then he caught himself, and gave a ragged sigh. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Don’t mind me.” he apologized.

What could he say? Koana knew that there was nothing. If there was, he’d have said it to himself.  People had their reasons for not wanting children, loathsome as abandoning them was, and sometimes those reasons were distasteful. He wracked his brain for anything to say. Something he’d read, maybe? But then he remembered what Gulool Ja Ja had done for him when he’d been as uncertain, as had his archon friends. Reminded him just who he was. 

Koana took a breath, then gave Ifan a squeeze. “...I studied you, before you arrived. The Warrior of Light.” he admitted, pursing his lips a little bashfully. “ But it was not the person in those books that has been here for me, or shared his pain with me. That man is the one who has my care, G’raha Tia’s, and that of his friends. I know that in my heart, as sure as I came to know Lamaty’i was the right choice.“ It felt like the most graceless thing he’d ever uttered in his life, but it was what he truly felt.

Ifan looked at him with the same expression that he’d had on his face earlier. Then his lips twisted, eyes watering a little.  “...’Tis so stupid. I don’t know why it still hurts.” he mumbled, trying for his life to hold on to his composure.

Koana felt his glasses start to fog. He hadn’t had a minute to mourn his father properly, and now he couldn’t stop the tears. He reached up to remove them, wiping his eyes with one gloved hand, then looked up at Ifan with as reassuring a smile as he could muster. “It is senseless.” he agreed, ears falling flat and tail hanging lank. He felt the Hyur squeeze his hand, and when he looked at Ifan he saw the other man had tears upon his cheeks as well. “...I will stay here, with you, until you are ready. You will not be left behind, by any of us.” he promised.

The Warrior of Light bit his lower lip and leaned over to embrace the Vow of Reason, face pressed against the shoulder of his coat while Koana’s other arm came up and threaded around Ifan’s chest to hold him tightly.  “You too.” Ifan managed, voice thin and watery, his arms embracing Koana just as tightly as the Hhetsarro wept silently into his neck. “I’m here for you too.”

[astrology-bf]

Professional Courtesy: A Shadowrun Story

(CW: Contains Violence/Death, Implied/Referenced NSFW, References to Dawntrail Spoilers)

Koana’s ears were splayed to either side in concentration as he made deft adjustments to his arm using a pen-shaped multitool, the lenses of his glasses zooming and enhancing as they needed in response to where his violet eyes were focusing. His prosthetic didn’t need any adjustment, as the metahuman kept all of his cyberware in peak condition, but working on it meant he wasn’t staring at the monitors he’d set up in his room at the abandoned shrine in Nara Prefecture their group was using as a hideout. The evening had been stressful enough without feeding his anxiety by worrying about Shizuka and Ifan.

The job had been quite simple considering the pay. Mr. Tanaka - the term used in Japan for those anonymously hiring teams of shadowrunners, such as Koana’s - had wanted one Ihara-sama of the Shiawase Corporation taken care of in a way that was spectacular and yet untraceable, specifically on the occasion of his upcoming anniversary at the company. 

As was the norm, no real rationale was given save the promise of a handsome payment: only when Koana did a little digging in the matrix did the team discover that Ihara-sama sold company secrets, and they guessed Mr. Tanaka was a higher up at Shiawase. Not that it made a difference, as none of them much gave a fuck about shaikujin of that sort; especially not Ifan, given his history at that same corporation.

Nonetheless, they had agreed to keep the casualties as low as possible. Shadowrunners they may be, but even Cass disliked unnecessary deaths outside those she was hunting. And so they made a simple plan: Ifan would dress up in black tie and infiltrate the party with Koana acting as his decker in the matrix, spoofing an invitation and looping the security cameras to make sure the magician went unnoticed. He’d tamper with the wards around the venue, and wait until Ihara-sama was at the podium accepting his commemorative award before disabling it. Cass would shoot her shot at extreme range, amping up the arrow with plenty of mana to ensure Ihara-sama left no corpse upon his passing, and then Ifan would raise the wards again and make his escape with Shizuka. The oni would have spent the time to infiltrate the venue by more traditional means, also with Koana’s help, and be waiting to extract Ifan before the four would rendezvous and make a break for it.

A simple enough plan, provided it went off without a hitch. It had done so to start with: Cass got in position, Ifan and Shizuka were dropped off in separate places, and Koana found a place to park the van above a facile cable he could tap for a direct hack into the building’s mainframe. The invitation was accepted, and all the necessary sensors and security cameras were looped or disabled. Ifan wouldn’t have a problem with the wards, of course… until he did.

The last one was defective somehow, and they’d nearly missed the window before something unexpected happened: Ifan had received assistance.

Koana didn’t know that much about this “G’raha” beyond Ifan having had a hookup with him in a bathroom in Nishinari-ku some days ago, but from the little that Koana caught - before they had to cut communications once he realized he was a hair’s breadth away from being traced - the man had apparently helped Ifan with disabling the last ward at the eleventh hour. Koana found it odd, but then again any corpo who was either brave or dumb enough to fuck a shadowrunner was the very definition of the term.

That the job had been completed hadn’t changed the fact that it was messy. Due to the risk from two close calls, the team agreed to maintain radio silence and make their way back in pairs; Koana picked up Cass and headed back to the hideout in the van, while Ifan and Shizuka would sneak back by other means.

His vision blurred behind his glasses in a moment of fatigue, and he paused and gave a sigh. Koana set the multitool aside and closed the panel on his arm, then reached up to slide his glasses off so he could rub his eyes. Much as he tried not to worry, and knew Ifan and Shizuka could handle themselves even separately, waiting for his partner and his friends was always the worst part of any job.

Koana never thought he’d be a shadowrunner. Many might have said his father would have been ashamed, but he knew better: when his superior at Aztechnology had made a bid to frame his baby sister for a thing that would have seen her SIN revoked, his father would have done exactly as Koana did and taken the fall instead. Even if it cost him both his life and everything he’d worked for over the course of it, his sister had the chance to get out by legitimate means and still lived comfortably - such as could be found in the Sixth World.

He was on the run, however, with jailbroken cyberware and hardly any friends that he could trust. Aztechnology’s reach was broad, and Koana needed somewhere they were less influential where he could lay low and build some sort of life. 

Japan was perfect. It had only opened up to foreign businesses a mere two decades prior, and while insular it had a growing population of metahumans that Koana could get lost in. The fact the country was extremely rich in tech was also quite attractive, both for his own interests and the prospect that his skills could come in handy. And that was how he met his team.

One only had to compare Koana’s room to those of his teammates to see why they had recruited him. Koana’s was packed full with monitors, hard drives, components, to say nothing of his video game collection. His teammates were all magically inclined, however, with Ifan being a practitioner of chaos magic, and both Cass and Shizuka being adepts. That was why they chose the shrine for their hideout; it stood atop a leyline or some nonsense that Koana didn’t understand beyond the fact it was a bitch to get a decent wi-fi signal, but apparently was useful to all three in their pursuits. They were extremely good at what they did, but no team is quite complete without some matrix coverage - which is where Koana came in.

They met through two men that apparently were friends of Ifan and who Koana were acquainted with from university. Ifan and the others had been hired to do a job in Yokosuka that required someone good at decking, and their mutual friends had recommended Koana. So they’d arranged a meetup at an arcade in the Ginza, where Ifan could see if Koana was a decent fit for shadowrunning.

It hadn’t been the brightest start. Koana was still smarting off his recent fall from grace and acted with about as much towards people he still thought of as criminals, while Ifan was reminded of the shaikujin that he despised in Koana’s attitude and bearing. Cass was similarly put off, given her history with Saeder-Krupp, while Shizuka was as always disinclined to open up to any stranger much less someone like Koana. But the three needed a decker, and to their delight they found out that Koana could do another thing they sucked at: drive.

Koana found being pressed into the role of chauffeur a little irritating, but he nonetheless appreciated that the three made every effort to ensure that their misgivings didn’t mean they treated Koana poorly. He was given his own room when possible, he was never once excluded from a fast food order, and when he needed a component or even fancied a new game he’d often find one of his teammates would have procured it for him. Cass was very frugal and seemed glad to have something to spend her nuyen on, and Koana learned that Shizuka was both helpful and quite sweet. Ifan too, was both kind and helpful; when he asked the three how they had met, both Cass and Shizuka had much the same experience of partnering with Ifan for a job and then finding him too good a friend to ditch. 

And he was a good friend. When their initial awkwardness receded, Koana learned a lot about him. He was from Adelaide originally, and had been reached out to in his adolescence by a jinn during a family trip to visit relatives in Syria; the firebringer spirit was the one who taught him magic, and apparently remained his mentor to this day. His family hadn’t been keen on either him being a magician nor his preferences in partners, and so he’d largely cut communication with them long before he became a shadowrunner. 

Ifan had gone on to study magic formally and then was scouted by the Shiawase corporation’s local branch in Sydney. That was why he was familiar with Japan, having lived a SINner’s life working at their magical research and development division at their headquarters in Osaka. He was very good at what he did, but for whatever reason he decided he would throw it all away and ditch his SIN. The circumstances of his leaving Shiawase were a mystery, even to Koana; those rare occasions when Ifan came close to speaking of the subject, the metahuman got the sense that his magician was at the risk of opening a very ugly wound.

Other than that, he’d shared everything with Koana. There were many nights when Cass would be on pilgrimage into the woods to seek Artemis’ guidance, and Shizuka would be in meditation as he considered how best to create his latest masterpiece, where he and Ifan would be by themselves. Ifan had his studies and experiments, and Koana had a healthy side gig of writing ilicit code, but unusually for a magician Ifan enjoyed video games as well as more traditional media. And as two men of similar persuasions in close quarters with video games, alcohol, and a proclivity towards not wearing pants are wont to do, their friendly gaming sessions soon became much friendlier. 

There wasn’t really any single point where he or Ifan knew that they were feeling things. It was more a gradual realization that maybe spending more nights in the same bed than apart meant they were something closer than good friends who got each other off, as was the case with both of them and Shizuka. So one day, while they cuddled while playing on one of Koana’s vintage consoles, Ifan had asked the metahuman quite sarcastically if he’d like to do something ‘real gay’ and be his boyfriend. And Koana had then rolled his eyes, and equally as sarcastically told him he already was. 

Koana slid his glasses back up his nose and glanced up at the monitors again. Still no sign of either his boyfriend or Shizuka, but at least Cass said that she’d go look for them once she returned from stocking up at the convenience store in town. 

He stood to stretch, then his ears stood upright as he heard the telltale alert from one of the motion sensors he’d set up. Koana’s gaze snapped to the offending monitor, and he gave a relieved sigh as he saw Ifan making his way up towards the shrine - even if Shizuka’s absence was notable. He didn’t waste a moment in stretching hastily as he made to greet his partner.

Ifan looked slightly out of breath as he approached the entrance to the shrine. He’d ditched the black tie suit he’d worn to infiltrate the party and was now dressed quite casually in sneakers, sweats, and a large hoodie in the fashion popular among young urbanites. The man didn’t appear to look overly worried, and in fact gave Koana a pleased and equally as relieved smile as he saw the metahuman walking towards him.

“Hey, you.” he hummed, ascending the last stairs and then holding his arms out for a hug. Koana wasted no time in going to meet him in a tight embrace, standing on his toes as Ifan craned his head down and met him in a very passionate kiss. The magician hummed contentedly into his lover’s mouth as he felt the decker’s hands upon his back and wandering down to grip his rear before their lips parted.

“Welcome back, cariño. You had me worried.” greeted Koana, ears twitching happily as his tail curled. He reached up to straighten his glasses, then glanced around. “Shizuka isn’t with you?”

Ifan shook his head, grimacing slightly. “They were doing enhanced screening for metahumans at the station, he didn’t want to risk the SIN potentially getting flagged right after a job. He’ll break silence if he’s in trouble, don’t worry.” He gave Koana a reassuring smile, but he obviously shared his partner’s concern for the oni getting home safely.

Koana returned the smile, then stepped back and began to head towards the shrine as Ifan followed. “Who’s worried? Shizuka is a lot more careful than you.” he replied, attempting to lighten the mood; which clearly worked somewhat, as Ifan snorted and stuck out his tongue.

“Honestly, I’m just glad it worked out. Tonight was a little messier than I like a run.” he said, giving a small sigh. Then he glanced at Koana and winked at him reassuringly. “Don’t worry about the close call on the trace. Not like I have room to complain given the bullshit with the wards.”

“It seemed to work out.” replied Koana. Then he eyed Ifan with a flat and knowing smirk. “G’raha, hm?” he hummed.

Ifan took in a long breath. His expression was sedate, caught midway between a smile and frown. “Curious man, that one.” he stated with a slow nod. As they reached the shoji screen that served as Koana’s door, Ifan paused and looked down at the metahuman’s violet eyes. “I gave him a card.”

Koana blinked at that, tilting his head as he raised both his left ear and eyebrow. “You think he has potential?” he asked.

“Maybe.” answered Ifan, noncommittally. “He’s clever, clearly likes the thrill. We’ll see if he can work out the formula, but he strikes me as the kind of person that still has things to lose… Not ideal in our line of work.” Then he paused again, and snickered before smiling down at Koana quite flirtatiously. “And here I am, a shadowrunner with someone to lose. Funny isn’t it, mi amor?” he asked.

Koana’s ears flicked in delight as Ifan used his mother tongue, and he stepped forward to slide his arms around his partner’s waist. The danger now receded, the lingering excitement of a completed run came to the fore. Clearly Ifan felt the same, given the way he pressed forward against the metahuman with an increasingly lust-filled gaze. 

“Cass around?” asked Ifan, already grinding his hips up against Koana’s lower abdomen as the decker’s groin was equally as furiously ground against one of his thighs.

“She went to get a few things. It’s just the two of us for now, cariño.” huffed Koana, pupils widening as both his ears splayed. 

Ifan nodded and let out a huff, his cheeks already darkened to a ruddy bronze. “Good. Because after tonight, I’m going to need you to fuck me so hard they hear it back in Osaka.” he stated as his fingers dug into Koana’s back.

The metahuman felt his ears and tail both shudder. He returned an equally as hungry glare as he reached up to slide his glasses off, before he reached stepped back and reached up to fist his prosthetic hand around the tie of Ifan’s sweatpants, using it as leverage to drag his partner back into his room.

[astrology-bf]

Courting Pyrrhus

(CW: Dawntrail Spoilers, MSQ Spoilers, Implied PTSD, Mentions of Torture/Death, Implied NSFW)

The Second Promise of Tuliyollal had little experience when it came to close relationships. He had his father and his sister, yes, but being Gulool Ja Ja’s adopted son made fitting in with others his own age a difficulty, as did Koana’s natural standoffishness. Even when he wasn’t the Dawnservant’s son, as he pretended otherwise while studying at the Studium, the ever-present risk of being found out meant that being close to people wasn’t worth it. And then there was the simple matter that Koana was too busy for relationships: busy with his studies, or with civic improvements to Tuliyollal, or busy laying the groundwork for his bid to become Dawnservant. If friendship (or gods forbid, romance) was in the cards, he was waiting for the hand of fate to deal it rather than expend the effort digging through the deck - it wasn’t necessary for his goals, as he intended to shift Tuliyollal to a more Sharlayan form of government rather than begin a bloodline monarchy. Loneliness was just a natural state he had accepted.

Fate had dealt him quite a different hand than he expected, in that the Sharlayan men whose aid he sought in the Rite of Succession ended up becoming friends with him. Urianger especially was sensitive to Koana’s struggles, as the Elezen was naturally quite shy himself and had earned his present confidence through hard work and the help of friends like Moenbryda, Thancred, and the Warrior of Light. Thancred’s sympathies were obvious when he spoke of his adopted daughter, Ryne, telling Koana that she had grown up largely isolated and exploited due to her birth, and had fought hard to earn her own life, a loving group of friends, and a partner of her own called Gaia. They gave Koana the benefit of their experiences, and though he ceded in his bid to become Dawnservant they were nonetheless proud of him and considered him their friend, much as Koana realized he did in turn. 

He hadn’t expected that one of his opponents’ champions would end up being his friend, much less his lover, along with the man’s partner. Yet all Koana needed do, as he lay on his bed in his smallclothes reading a book by lanternlight, was glance to his left and see the Warrior of Light asleep right next to him as he lay there unclothed.

Koana also hadn’t known what to expect when, after an enchanting evening where they’d danced, and ate, and then made love, he’d asked Ifan if he’d like to spend the night. It was an offer made by courteous instinct, and only once Ifan accepted did Koana realize that he’d never shared a bed with someone in that way. He was used to privacy, and was just becoming used to company in context. Not that he regretted offering, it was just that he was slightly nervous.

For all his apprehension, the night and the morning after felt completely natural. Ifan’s body temperature was naturally quite high due to his godbrand, and Koana woke up clinging to the Hyur having curled around him when the temperature got chillier during the night. When he’d tried to unthread himself, Ifan had then stirred and they’d lazily made love again before they rose, washed, and then broke fast before the Warrior of Light bid the Vow of Reason a farewell for the morning and departed - in a very Estinien-like fashion, by riding on the wind from Koana’s balcony so he could leave without being seen. He’d also reassured Koana that no one had seen him make his way to the Hhetsarro’s chambers during the evening prior, stating that ‘Jacke and Oboro-sensei’ had helped him perfect the art of conducting such affairs in private. 

The lengths which Ifan went to in order to maintain discretion made Koana appreciate him deeply. It wasn’t that he was ashamed: even if he didn’t know how the Tuliyollan public would perceive the Vow of Reason having a three-way romance with a foreign champion and his partner, he was prepared to stand by his choice of friends and knew Lamaty’i would back him to the hilt. But it did begin to make him wonder more about the implications of being in a relationship with men like Ifan and G’raha Tia. 

He was given much more insight during the next evening when they were awoken by a call on Ifan’s linkpearl. He’d answered, and then immediately arisen and went out to the balcony to take the call with a very worried look upon his face. Koana hadn’t eavesdropped, but the Hhetsarro’s ears had caught enough to know that it was G’raha calling, and he seemed to be in trouble.

When Ifan returned to bed, Koana asked him if he needed to depart and the Hyur shook his head. Given that they were now both too distressed to sleep, they sat awake while Ifan explained G’raha suffered severe nightmares on occasion that stemmed from his captivity in Ascian hands. He’d been subjected to physical and mental torture for several days before he’d freed himself when Emet-Selch had his attention drawn away dealing with Ifan and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and though the Ascian had been defeated it did not erase the scars he dealt. G’raha would awaken on occasion, sobbing or crying out, and Ifan would then hold him while reassuring him that it was just a dream, that he was safe, and that he wasn’t trapped alive within a crystal prison of his own body. And that was when Ifan was present: when G’raha was alone, he had to satisfy himself with hearing Ifan’s voice, or the unpleasant last resort of self-sedation. 

This particular dream had been set off from being in Solution 9, and the reminder of how Sphene had ripped Ifan away much like Meteion had done in Ultima Thule. Hearing Ifan’s voice had been enough to ease the archon's trouble, but Koana could tell the Hyur was both worried and upset. Not that he could blame him: Koana worried, too, and the thought that someone wonderful like G’raha Tia couldn’t get a good night’s rest infuriated him. He didn’t know anything of Emet-Selch besides what Ifan and G’raha had told him, but he knew he would have shot the Ascian right in the back without a moment’s hesitation, just like he shot Bakool Ja Ja when he had threatened Lamaty’i. 

Upset as it made him, at the least he had the outlet of being there for Ifan. He held the Hyur as they lay awake until he felt the man drift off from sheer exhaustion, and joined him soon after. 

Things were easier when they awoke, as Ifan called G’raha and found the archon had managed to return to bed without another nightmare, which was helped further by a breakfast of grilled sandwiches. Ifan seemed much better, and though business called the Vow of Reason off he bid the man farewell in confidence that the Hyur would be fine. He also informed Ifan that he could return again that night, and that G’raha was welcome to join them in his chambers if he should return while the Warrior of Light was there - something Ifan had expressed his gratitude for with a very appreciative kiss. 

What free time he had that day was spent thinking about Ifan and G’raha, specifically about the many small things that made much more sense when put in their often concerning contexts.

He’d asked previously why Ifan warded his chambers and put a shutting spell upon his door, and Ifan had informed him that he was well used to people trying to steal from him, or assassinate him, or even something basic such as barging in on him demanding his assistance. Koana also noticed that Ifan always discretely waved his hand over a beverage he accepted from a stranger, and recalled not only reading that Ifan had been present when Nanamo Ul Namo had been poisoned, but Ifan mentioning that he’d been drugged on multiple occasions. He didn’t use his surname openly, he kept his quite distinctive primal scar concealed in public, and when he didn’t wish to be observed he moved unseen - using skills that Thancred, Jacke, Oboro-sensei, or Estinien had taught him to avoid being noticed. He was always watching, always thinking of contingencies, always vigilant for threats and suspicious of betrayal. Koana realized Ifan never felt entirely safe, regardless of his circumstances or his company. 

G’raha, too, had habits that made Koana troubled. He’d noticed on occasion that the man would reach for something with his left hand, pause, and then reach with his right as if he’d suddenly forgotten which hand was his dominant one. Koana remembered he’d been told that G’raha’s right had been the one that turned to crystal, and that even moving it required him expending aether - it was likely that the Crystal Exarch had become ambidextrous by necessity, and that conflicted with the Source’s G’raha Tia who was right-handed. It also started making sense why Ifan was fastidious about ensuring G’raha ate and slept, since he’d lived for such a length of time without the need to do so and might starve or pass out from exhaustion if he wasn’t reminded. His love for life, which was so charming by itself, became much sadder when one realized that it came from someone who had resigned themselves to losing it. 

The two men had suffered deeply for their callings, neither of which they necessarily asked for but nonetheless couldn’t refuse by either of their natures. Koana understood, now, why Urianger and Thancred had refused to speak of Ifan in his absence - they’d been there alongside him, and seen what he’d been through. Privacy was the very least that they could do for him. Small wonder, then, that Ifan was so willing to employ discretion when it came to Koana.

As he was still thinking about Ifan and discretion when they had lunch the following day, he’d broached the subject. He wanted to assure Ifan that his feelings were genuine, and that he was willing to go public if it would make Ifan happy, but Ifan simply smiled at him, chuckled, then told him that he needn't worry as this was far from the messiest such situation he’d been in. 

Being the Warrior of Light meant that he often brushed elbows with the great and good, and given that Ifan was so ‘friendly’ that often led to situations where they’d brush other things as well. Normally, this wasn’t a problem - the Hyur wasn’t the kind of man to brag about his conquests save in the form of generalized anecdotes that were more focused on the act itself, and he kept polite distance with those that preferred discretion in public. His first encounter of that sort had happened before he’d even had the title ‘Warrior of Light’, where during a banquet to celebrate Ifan’s retrieval of Nanamo’s crown a very vigorous war dance with the Flame General had led to vigorous activity within his chambers, during which Ifan learned ‘the Bull of Ala Mhigo’ was not an idle boast. It hadn’t led to anything besides some sniggering from Momodi, as Ifan was not the first of either men or women to grace Raubahn’s chambers in that way.

Less trivial and more formative was his relationship with Hien Rijin, Lord of Doma. Koana had read about the Warrior of Light’s adventures as he sought to liberate the conquered land from Garlemald, and it was rumored that the man was more than friends with the Othardian samurai - which was true, but in far more tragic circumstances than any of the books on recent history recounted.

They had met on the Azim Steppe, and both were very lonely men. Hien was in mourning for his family and his country, having lived in exile by the kindness of the Mol after the failure of the Doman Uprising, waiting for Yugiri Mistwalker to come back and say the people of his land desired his head. And though Ifan had his friends like Alisaie and Lyse, he’d just come off a string of failed relationships that left him deeply injured: G’raha Tia sealed himself in Syrcus Tower, Haurchefant had sacrificed himself atop the Vault, Ardbert had always been dead and then was gone for good back to the First, and the mess of his relationship with Thancred - which had already been strained by the events surrounding Lahabrea - had hit its lowest point when an argument about Minfilia’s fate resulted in a public brawl. Ifan hadn’t seen Thancred since Baelsar’s Wall, wouldn't again until Ala Mhigo's liberation, and wasn’t really sure at that point if they were still on speaking terms. 

Hien’s amiability and compassion, and Ifan’s kindness and strength of character, had led to them taking an immediate liking to each other, to say nothing of the obvious physical attraction. As they journeyed through the Steppe, the Warrior of Light and the pretender Lord of Doma had become two boys on an adventure: the orphan from Ul’dah, and young Shun. They helped Cirina and the Mol claim victory in the Nadaam, earned the trust of the Dotharl and Oronir, and went on to claim victory in Doma and restore Lord Hien to his rightful seat. Flush with triumph, the pair decided that they’d make a decent shot of a relationship.

Reality came knocking in the form of circumstances surrounding Yotsuyu, Doma’s former Viceroy. Her survival and amnesia at a time where Doma was in the midst of trying to work out the political situation with its former conquerers had made already loaded circumstances near-impossible for either man to navigate. Ifan had to come to terms with realizing being partnered to a head of state might mean he would watch them do things he disagreed with. Similarly, Hien had been given a reminder of the fact, in the way Asahi sas Brutus (rat that he was) not-so-subtly threatened that the Garlean Empire might make insinuations to the effect of Eorzea’s champion being partisan pet of Doma, that the perception Hien and his country now had the ability to strike far above their weight class would be diplomatically concerning.

When the affair was said and done - Yotsuyu and her family all dead, Maxima and Alphinaud en route to Garlemald to make the case for peace with the other Populares, and Doma’s independence largely guaranteed - the two men had a long talk about their future. Hien stated that he’d abdicate for Ifan, but both men knew that simply wasn’t in the cards: Doma wanted Lord Kaien’s son, and Hien’s foremost love was for his country. The flower they were trying to keep alive couldn’t survive given the present climate, and so they ended it. They were still intimate, but not to the intensity they’d had before: Shun and Ifan had grown up, and it was in the kami’s hands if they would live again as Tsuyu did.

Learning this had made Koana deeply troubled, namely in the way he felt that Ifan was putting himself in an uncomfortable position for Koana’s sake. But he almost regretted it when he then asked why Ifan hadn’t hesitated when choosing to be close with him.

He’d paused. Then he’d warned Koana it was weighty. The Vow of Reason paused in turn, but still agreed. He wanted to know Ifan. So Ifan had then nodded slowly, and spoke to him about the thing he called “the job.”

It was the term Ardbert had used to describe Ifan and himself making pretense of being enemies to satisfy the Scions and the Ascians. A term that really meant a toll in misery to purchase others’ happiness, which defined the calling they had chosen as being Hydaelyn’s champions. A necessary and noble calling, but one they suffered deeply for to the extent that, for their sanity, they had to just pretend it was a thing that they could quit at any time, however much they knew they never could. Ifan hadn’t signed up in Momodi’s book in the Quicksands with the intent of being a hero: he’d found that formal education in Arrzaneth Ossuary and Mealvaan’s Gate didn’t agree with him, and chose adventuring to fund a path of magical self-study, that was all.

Happenstance had led him to the calling. He’d been out in Central Thanalan when he’d noticed an adventurer rather rudely turning down a plea for help from an old Lalafell, who apparently had no better compensation than some pretzels. Ifan had assisted Papashan, and after proving his good heart through this act of passing kindness he'd been asked to help look for a missing noblewoman - the Sultana herself, it turned out, who’d ran off in disguise. Ifan rescued her from vodoriga, with Thancred’s help, and for his bravery he was rewarded with a crystal that called him to Hydaelyn. And that was where “the job” began.

Koana still remembered the way Ifan said he ‘took things more seriously’ after Ifrit had branded him. That tone had frightened him a little, and that fear was validated when Ifan spoke of the Waking Sands: coming home one day, still flush with victory in La Noscea, to see the people that he called his friends lying butchered by Garlean hands. Ifan stated clearly that he’d carried their bodies to the lichyard at Saint Adama Landama’s, that he’d memorized the weight of every corpse and whose it was, and from that point he did the same with everyone he failed, so he wouldn't fail others. That was “the job” - ending in him taking on the Scions’ weight in Ultima Thule. Temporary as it was, Ifan had to cut a piece of himself out by fighting Zenos to the death, just to shed the burden. He’d died a second time, and lived once more by Hydaelyn’s intervention: Her shade had pushed him back at death’s edge when he’d realized just how much he wished to live. 

If Ifan was less hesitant, he said, it was because “the job” was done.

He’d asked then if Koana still wished for his company. Though the Hyur didn’t say it verbally, Koana knew that what he meant was that he feared the Vow of Reason viewing him as damaged. So he told Ifan the truth: that he was sad for him, and incredulous that such a man would want someone like himself - Ifan was a hero, to him, and not because of any silliness to do with being the Warrior of Light. 

It had been a heavy conversation, but Koana didn’t feel upset: it was cathartic, much as their discussion on the balcony, and one that led to him gaining a better understanding of the men he cared about. Both Ifan and G’raha did all they could to make Koana comfortable and let him know he was appreciated - because he was. He made them happy, when they had lived the sorts of lives where happiness was only possible with struggle. Lives they still led, to Koana’s mind, as they readily stepped forward to challenge threats to both Tural and wider Etheirys despite no longer being the Crystal Exarch and there being no Hydaelyn. 

Worrying, but it gave Koana comfort: providing them a safe and loving place where they could take their ease was something that they needed, and something he could try to give them. Neither of them hesitated in helping him when he sought counsel for his own burdens or when his mind became too much to bear. 

To that end, he asked Ifan to enchant his door with that same shutting spell he used. He had a physical lock, but he wanted G’raha to be able to return with ease while still ensuring Ifan felt safe. Ifan did so, and then taught Koana the sequence he and G’raha used to disengage it - he’d let Koana know if it was changed, so he could join them in the cabin if it pleased him.  

Ifan had returned again that third night, this time by balcony in a way that would have made the former Azure Dragoon proud. They’d had dinner, and they made love again but differently - this time, Ifan let Koana take the lead and just explore much like he had that first night down by the Bevy. The Hhetsarro was much more confident of what his lover liked, at this point, but if he felt hesitation it took second place to his desire to make Ifan feel good: and he was very pleased that Ifan had enjoyed himself. They’d shared some mezcal to cap off the evening, and Ifan had indulged a little more to help him sleep - still worried about G’raha, but less so as previous evening had gone by without incident. 

Koana closed his book and went to go relieve himself, and was returning to the bed when he saw the spell upon his door flare up. It took him a moment to remember that he’d asked Ifan to enchant it, and then another to remember that there was just one person who knew how to unlock it: though it took a final moment for the archon to appear as if from thin air, as he was wreathed within a vanishing spell so he didn’t draw attention on the way to Koana’s chambers. 

The Miqo’te seemed well enough, but Koana saw the hints within his body language of lingering stress: a lankness in the ears and tail, and a curving of the upper spine as if prepared to bolt. He paused as he caught sight of Koana, blinked, then smiled and chuckled as he quietly closed the door. “I had not expected either of you to be awake, at this hour. ‘Tis good to see you, Koana.” he greeted, ears and tail perking slightly.

Koana’s own ears perked too, but his tail remained slightly tense from worry. “And you, ‘Raha. Your journey back was smooth, I hope?” he asked, stepping forward and offering to help G’raha remove his outer layers - though he was quickly wrapped up in a hug, the archon’s tail wrapping around his and squeezing tightly. 

“Apologies.” muttered G’raha into Koana’s shoulder. 

The Vow of Reason blinked, perfectly still, but then wrapped his arms around the other man and held him close. “No offense is taken.” he reassured, rubbing the Miqo’te’s back as his tail flexed in G’raha’s grasp. He lowered his own face, nose brushing against one of the archon’s tattoo’s, as he refreshed his memory of G’raha’s scent - a breezy hint of laurel from the soap he liked to use, and a faintly earthy and sweet note from old books and ink. Koana let out a relieved sigh, feeling himself smile slightly knowing G’raha was in company again. 

G’raha gave a grateful smile as he pulled back before he met Koana in a kiss. Their tails were still interlinked, and rather than embrace he simply held the Vow of Reason’s hands while their lips met in greeting. Then he returned an equally as relieved sigh, and nodded. “‘Tis good to be home.” he stated.

Koana returned the smile, then glanced at the bed. Ifan was still fast asleep, lying on the side without his godbrand as was usual. As he wondered if he should awaken Ifan, he heard G’raha give a faint chuckle.

“I do hope you were not too rough with him.” he teased, easing back into good humor. 

The Hhetsarro pursed his lips and blushed before he chuckled softly. He shook his head. “Too much mezcal. I will synthesize a remedy for him, should he need it in the morning.” answered Koana.

G’raha snickered and shook his head in turn. He began to slide off his outer layers, letting Koana assist him as he initially offered, before the Vow of Reason showed him to the washroom in his chambers so he could undress more fully, and they could speak a little further without bothering the sleeping Hyur.

“Gulool Ja is doing quite well, as you will read in his letter.” said G’raha with a proud nod. “One would hardly think a boy of such an age to have such an awareness of greater events, yet he seems to be determined to do justice to the role.” he stated.

The Vow of Reason smiled quite happily.  “That is well. Lamaty’i and I have been concerned, given the immensity of the task, but it is heartening that he himself is willing. He will have our utmost backing.” he said firmly. Then he glanced at G’raha more seriously. “What of your survey?” asked Koana.

G’raha’s lips pursed pensively. “There are some observations, but I would need to consult Y’shtola. One of the difficulties is that we cannot be certain just which reflection was rejoined, and the pace of that shard’s history compared to the Source. That is more a subject for historical research, however, and will take time.” he explained. Then he gave a sigh, and smiled at Koana as he stood shirtless. “You have my apologies for giving you both cause for worry. And my appreciation for taking care of Ifan in my absence.” finished G’raha with a nod.

Koana shook his head and stepped forward. “If anything, our absence when you were in distress is reason for apology.” he reassured. Then he paused, and smiled. “If Ifan should be absent, my bed is always open to you.” offered Koana.

The archon’s lips parted as his ears fell, then he gave a breath and a warm grin. He reached up to brush his thumb across Koana’s cheekbone, making the Hhetsarro’s ears twitch and his lips purse briefly. “You are exceeding sweet, dear vow. I can see why my beloved champion became so enamored of you. Though I am hardly guiltless of such feelings.” he added, with a soft laugh.

A ruddy flush appeared across Koana’s cheeks and chest, and he looked away for just a moment. But his ears gave a pleased wiggle. “You have my care as well, ‘Raha.” returned Koana.

G’raha smiled again and stepped forward to meet the Hhetsarro in another kiss: much more insistent than before, where Koana slid his hands up the Miqo’te’s back to marvel at the muscles honed through years of archery. He noted just how different he was to Ifan: shorter, yes, but solid where the Hyur was much softer. It made sense, given he’d seen G’raha generally preferred to fight in closer quarters to keep threats away from Ifan. 

When they broke their kiss, Koana noted how much happier G’raha already seemed than when he’d first beheld him. Still a little lank in both his ears and tail, and still tired, but happy to be back and ready to more forward and heal. That was the running theme within his life, and that of his partner’s. Koana was quite happy to be there to help them do so. 

The archon took in a breath and stepped back. “You needn’t stay up on my account. I confess more than a little weariness, myself.” he admitted, giving Koana a sheepish nod.

Koana chuckled, and nodded in return. “If you should want for anything, you need only ask. I will see you in bed.” He stepped forward to press another kiss to G’raha’s lips, then went to rejoin Ifan in bed.

The Hyur was still sleeping when Koana arrived, only having shifted his position slightly. Koana paused, uncertain as to where he should sleep, and decided to leave Ifan’s arms free for the Miqo’te if he wanted to be held. So he gingerly climbed into the bed, still clad in his smallclothes, and snuggled up behind the Hyur before attempting to return to sleep.

He was only half-awake when he felt G’raha climb into bed - but only after he’d placed an appreciative kiss to Koana’s shoulder upon seeing that he’d left Ifan’s arms free. Koana felt the bed shift as the archon cuddled up in Ifan’s arms, and then felt G’raha’s arm slide over him as the Miqo’te’s tail found his again. 

Koana couldn’t stop himself from letting out a faint and happy purr, before he drifted off to sleep.

[astrology-bf]

Garland Wars

(CW: Dawntrail Spoilers, Yaoi On Ice)

If one were to ask either G’raha Tia or the Warrior of Light which of the Vow of Reason’s virtues first came to mind, it would likely be his sense of justice. He could be standoffish, competitive, or even slightly condescending, but the Vow of Reason of Tuliyollal was nothing if not adamant about fair play. Technology’s accessibility was partly what attracted him to innovation, as magitek had made a fair fight between sorcerers and folk they often called ‘mundanes’, while even simple firearms had helped to equalize a class divide in places such as Ishgard. And even when playing dirty might be advantageous in his quest to be Dawnservant, Koana always hesitated when doing so: for one thing, he opted to delay to assist Lamaty’i and her allies with Valigarmanda, as it was the right thing as both Second Promise and Wuk Lamat’s brother. For another, though he was well aware that Thancred could attempt to steal a keystone from an opponent, Koana had stated he’d prefer if he made a fair attempt at earning one himself before resorting to such methods. And finally, when he realized that Lamaty’i had proven herself worthy fair and square… he forfeited, however difficult it was to cede his lifetime dream. 

Difficult, but made much easier by Koana’s friends and sister. Thancred and Urianger had been proud of him, and reassured him that they would have joined him against Gulool Ja Ja’s shade even if he hadn’t chosen to forfeit and help Lamaty’i, because they did believe in him. Lamaty’i hadn’t forgotten him or left him behind, and chose to take him with her on a joint adventure of leading Tuliyollal into the future. And then there was the Warrior of Light, who’d become someone Koana would call a dear friend.

Ifan had been there for him in Kozama’uka when Lamaty’i was kidnapped, and then again after Koana forfeited but hadn’t yet learned he was to be invited to be Vow of Reason. Not just been there physically, but as someone who prioritized Koana’s comfort and safety when the Hhetsarro was in uncertain and then tragic circumstances. If Koana had to describe it, he’d liken it to Ifan being a scaffold while he rebuilt himself - even if saying so would trivialize the way he knew he’d helped Ifan in turn, when the Hyur had been struggling after the events of Living Memory. He hadn’t quite expected that sort of relationship with anyone, least of all the Warrior of Light. But the idea that he might have two such figures in his life… He’d never have expected that. Yet he had G’raha Tia, too.

He’d arrived along with Y’shtola after the sudden attack on Tuliyollal, and Koana was immediately impressed by his erudition and decisiveness. He’d been a little apprehensive about speaking to him privately considering Ifan and Koana had been intimate, even if the former reassured him that G’raha was fine with it, but when he ended up in conversation with the archon he found instead a person much like Ifan: someone considerate, ready with counsel and reassurance, and eager for his company. And it was thrilling company, as the three of them had shared a lunch Ifan had brought from Aunt Tii’s stall while they’d discussed G’raha’s old thesis. Koana was reminded of his time back in Sharlayan, speaking of Allagan history and aetherochemistry, though the fact Koana could be open with himself made it near infinitely better. What did make it infinitely better was the fact that there was actual food, and not archon loaf. 

Koana was equally as thrilled to find that both G’raha and Ifan despised the wretched dish. Much as the Hhetsarro fancied himself a sophisticate, he could never get behind the foolish basis behind archon loaf, much less stomach such a tasteless food being a red-blooded Turali. Ifan hated fish, which was the usual source of protein within archon loaf, but more than that he was Ul’dahn in his bones and many of that folk made no secret of their contempt for what they called ‘Elezen food’ - stemming from the stereotype that Gridania, Ishgard, and Sharlayan had an aversion to anything more flavorful than salt and pepper, with the ghost of a green herb. G’raha was Corvosi, but though raised in Sharlayan his eclectic palate and enjoyment of novelty meant he’d learned to cook for himself and much preferred real food, indulging when he could while studying at the Studium and then beginning a culinary grand tour that was still ongoing.  

He’d been amused to learn that G’raha’s tolerance for spice was apparently a work in progress, while quickly understanding that Aunt Tii had taken such a shine to Ifan precisely because the Hyur couldn’t get enough of it. G’raha had tried Ifan’s carne asada and Koana had to stop himself from laughing at the way the archon turned bright red and started tearing up as he returned to his much milder portion, but still looking quite proud that he was getting better at handling his partner’s preferred spice level - to say nothing of learning to hold the tortilla without the fillings spilling out. Admittedly, the Hhetsarro’s own palate was inherently more sensitive than Ifan’s, but he’d nonetheless impressed the Hyur by handling it in true Turali fashion, and it had been a lovely lunch. 

Ifan had then offered to brew up some coffee with a little magic, but feeling quite indebted to the pair Koana had offered to make it if Ifan would be kind enough to boil water for him. So he’d prepared it for them in the fashion that he liked - black, but with sugar whisked into a foam before the rest was added - while they spoke a little more of G’raha and Ifan’s adventures on the First as it related to recent events, and Koana got a better understanding of the mechanics of the Sundering and Rejoinings. They’d indulged his curiosity quite openly without dumbing it down and while aspects were troubling, particularly the notion that every Calamity was engineered, he nonetheless felt better prepared for the challenges ahead. He had more information, and there were those who had some expertise beside him. Koana hadn’t been expecting his free afternoon to go so well, but after spending time with Ifan and ‘Raha (as the latter insisted Koana call him now) he felt better than he had in quite a while.

He’d kissed Ifan before he’d left, still a little awkward at doing so in G’raha’s presence but nonetheless quite eagerly showing his appreciation. Then G’raha had kissed him, too, as Ifan had suggested that he’d like to do. 

G’raha kissed quite differently from Ifan. The Hyur was a charmer: he liked to ease you into it until you didn’t realize just how sloppy it all got, lowering your guard with gentle brushes and sweet noises like a serpent in a garden drawing you to some forbidden fruit. The Miqo’te, on the other hand, was both courteous and yet extremely greedy: gentle, but once he’d obtained permission to dispense with due restraint he then proceeded to do everything within his power to make the person he was kissing know just how much they were desired. Though perhaps Koana should have guessed, given how quickly G’raha’s tail found his, wrapped around it, and didn’t let go until their lips parted. 

Koana had walked out of the For’ard Cabins with a sedate smile as nearly every onze of effort was expended on trying to stop his ears and tail from going wild in public, having had one of the best days of his life. 

If he worried that it was a one-off affair, that was soon proven wrong in the way the two of them just seemed to slot him into both their lives. They would visit, both separately and together, and Koana got more chance to learn about what made each man distinct and what they had in common, both between each other and with Koana. The three of them were curious and learned men who loved books and appreciated good food, and like Koana both G’raha and Ifan were very driven people with strong commitments to doing the right thing. Koana was less openly playful, especially in comparison to Ifan, but both seemed more than happy to go easy on Koana until he got more comfortable teasing back.  

When meeting G’raha one day for a small break over horchata, the archon mentioned he’d been thinking of Koana’s musings on his thesis and planned to take a brief sojourn to Alexandria, with the intent on learning more of Everkeep and seeing if there were insights into understanding its current relation to Etheirys that could be gained from a comparison to Syrcus Tower. He’d mentioned this to Koana both to ask him to take care of Ifan in his absence, and to ask if he’d like a message passed on to his nephew, Gulool Ja, as G’raha planned to visit him and Shale in Solution 9. Koana was quite grateful, not only for the chance to pass on a message, but also as the mention of the Warrior of Light reminded him of something that he wanted to ask G’raha.

Ever since Ifan had taken him to see Nyunkrepf’s Hope, Koana had been considering ways to pay him back. It was a gesture the Hhetsarro wouldn’t soon forget, and given that the Vow of Reason had an exceedingly strong sense of fairness he knew he couldn’t let the declaration go unanswered. He had to give Ifan a gift, to show him how much he appreciated him: and who better else to ask, than G’raha Tia?

G’raha had been thrilled by Koana’s question and called him sweet, making the Hhetsarro flush, before he’d said that Ifan would like anything he got for him as the man always liked getting gifts, particularly when someone had put thought into them. But he’d also laughed and admitted that didn’t really help, so he’d suggested at the very least to start with flowers as Ifan loved receiving them, especially from handsome men like Koana - a statement which hadn’t helped the Vow of Reason’s blushing. As could be expected, his favorite was unavailable in Tuliyollal: jasmine wasn’t native to Tural, and he doubted that any had yet been imported from the east. At least some varieties of myosotis were indigenous, so Koana had been quite pleased to hear those were G’raha’s favorite when he had asked. He’d also been more than a little pleased at the way G’raha had turned slightly pink at the Hhetsarro’s implication that he could expect a gift of them. 

Armed with this knowledge, the Vow of Reason made his plan. He was standoffish and not used to intimacy, but he wanted to show Ifan his gratitude for how patient he had been with him and was thus willing to step outside his comfort zone. So he’d approached Lamaty’i and asked if he could have an evening to spend with Ifan.

While admitting he and Ifan were close friends, he’d denied Lamaty’i’s very endeared and wide-eyed asking if Ifan was his ‘boyfriend’. Even if the very notion didn’t make Koana flush darkly and start fumbling with his words, he wasn’t sure there was a word that could describe what was developing between himself, the Warrior of Light, and the former Crystal Exarch. Nonetheless, she had insisted that he take the evening off: it was her job as both Vow of Resolve and his dear sister to ensure he got time to enjoy himself, and more than that she seemed quite thrilled that Ifan had another thing to make him happy. She’d worried about him, having watched how deeply Alexandria and Sphene had troubled the magician, and noted that both he and Koana had seemed happier of late and was glad they’d found friends in one another. Not for the first time in recent days, Koana found himself impressed by how much Lamaty’i had grown, and so though it was against his instincts, he’d let her take the burden for the night while he took time for himself.

Rather than go visit the magician at his cabin, Koana sent Ifan an invitation: a handwritten one, asking if he would do him the honor of blessing Koana with his company in his chambers in the evening, and that he’d have dinner taken care of for them. He said nothing else, however, leaving what he’d planned as a surprise.

Koana stood with his hands clasped behind his back, facing the open balcony of his chambers as the last rays of sunlight faded from an increasingly star-spangled sky. He’d shed his coat and gloves, but still wore his cravat, and the eyes behind his glasses stared into space as both his ears lay flat and his lips twisted pensively. To say Koana was nervous was an understatement. He knew there was no reason for it, as Ifan had always been patient and tended to find things funny rather than offensive, but he still felt that same tightness in his chest and stomach as he did when they’d been about to face Valigarmanda. But he was Vow of Reason, once Second Promise, and a proud son of Tural besides. He could do this.

His ears shot upright at the sound of someone knocking on his door. Koana swallowed, taking a moment to both steel himself and settle the slight anxious bristling in his ears and tail, then took a breath and reached for something on the table before hiding it behind his back. “Enter.” he called, warmly.

One of the double doors to his chambers opened shortly after, and Ifan stepped inside with a bright smile. Koana blinked and pursed his lips as he caught sight of what the man was wearing: a draped garment in a style he had to wrack his brain to recall was likely Thavnarian or Dalmascan, made of white muslin that did very little to conceal the shapes behind its airy opacity. And that was where it covered, which it didn’t at either side of Ifan’s torso or in a deep plunge down his chest. The scar across it didn’t help Koana’s difficulty in pulling his eyes away from where the ash-brown dusted flesh was visible, but even when the Vow of Reason wasn’t looking down he noted just how nice the Warrior of Light appeared. The Hyur had freshly bathed, trimmed his beard, even lined his upper lashes with kohl to draw Koana’s ianthine eyes to Ifan’s wine-dark blue, and he still had that faint scent of Azeyma roses from the oil he used for both his beard and hands: a habit he’d picked up from the wife of the priestess who administered the orphanage where he was raised, Ifan had explained when Koana had asked, along with his habit of humming Eorzean hymns while he was healing people. In its totality, Ifan’s appearance reminded Koana immediately of both that first night where they’d kissed, and then the other night when they had bathed together… which was, very obviously, Ifan’s intent.

He’d clearly come prepared, as well.

The Vow of Reason swallowed, but was not about to cede the field just yet. He nodded at Ifan politely. “It is good to see you, friend.” he greeted. “You have my thanks for answering the invitation.” Koana did his level best to keep his eyes on Ifan’s face, even if the Hyur’s slightly smug expression made the Hhetsarro’s heart flutter. 

Ifan’s smugness then receded slightly into something much more genuinely appreciative. He closed the door behind himself and stepped forward to meet the Vow of Reason with an equally as courteous nod. “How could I not, dear prince, after such a lovely letter?” he hummed, giving Koana a pleased look. He paused briefly to sniff the air. “Chocolate?’ he asked, looking at Koana with a raised eyebrow.

Koana nodded and inclined his head towards the table. A ceramic jug filled with hot chocolate was placed there on a magitek warmer along with two brass cups and a strangely empty vase. Ifan raised an eyebrow at the vase, but his attention was soon drawn back to Koana as the Vow of Reason tamped down his anxiety and withdrew a bouquet which he then gently offered with as brave a smile as he could muster. “For you, Ifan. A thank you, for all that you have done.” he offered, his voice quiet and genuine. 

The flowers were pale purple and slightly bell shaped, and had a mild and sweet aroma that reminded Ifan somewhat of the Bacchus grape vine he and Shamani Lohmani he retrieved back in La Noscea what seemed like a lifetime ago. He stared at the unfamiliar flowers in Koana’s hand, blinking a few times and not answering for a moment. But the creeping worry in Koana’s chest was soon replaced by a thrilled surge as he saw the Hyur’s cheeks begin to turn a ruddy bronze. His lips twisted momentarily, and then he gave the Vow of Reason a quite bashful look. “...Koana…” he muttered. Ifan looked off to the side and then snickered at himself before he smiled back at the Hhetsarro with unbridled happiness. “Thank you. They’re lovely.” The man simply couldn’t stop himself from faintly grinding the ball of his right foot against the floor as he accepted the bouquet and leaned down to kiss Koana, disarmed somewhat by the sweetness of the Turali’s gesture. 

The Vow of Reason was beyond delighted at Ifan’s reception of the flowers, and wasn’t able to prevent his ears from wiggling happily as he kissed back. He smiled at Ifan as their lips parted, then nodded with a sheepish look. “Jasmine is your favorite, I was told, but sadly they are strangers to Tural. I am partial to these, and wished to give something of myself, as you shared something of yourself. They are called jacaranda.” he explained, giving an earnest nod. His cheeks had darkened sightly, and the quivering in his ears betrayed his nervousness, but he still held his composure.

The Hyur’s lips parted slightly before he gave Koana another pleased smile and chuckle. “I don’t know what to say. Besides another thank you.” he said, cheeks still ruddy and his eyes near sparkling with delight. 

Koana, who normally found smiling quite a difficulty, had little trouble doing so seeing the Warrior of Light looking so pleased. “A small service, if these are the results.” he replied, tail curling happily at Ifan’s smile. He leaned up for another kiss, then went to pour some chocolate for the two of them so Ifan could place the flowers in the vase, keeping them fresh during the evening. 

“I should have expected this, given the handwritten invitation.” snickered Ifan as he set the blooms into the vase and waved his hand over them, an iridescent shimmer breezing from his fingers to help further fortify the jacarandas and ensure their preservation. Then he looked over at Koana, still smiling. “Didn’t take you for such a romantic.” he added, trying to remain teasing in his tone but a little too happy at the present circumstances.

“We court properly in Tuliyollal.” responded Koana with a slightly sly note and a little smirk. He slid the cup of chocolate over towards Ifan, but left his upon the warmer as he crossed to an orchestrion on a sideboard. 

Ifan let out a soft laugh and shook his head, then reached for the cup and took a sip. A pleased hum escaped him at the taste: where Eorzean hot chocolate was often cut with dairy or at least packed with sugar, this was more robust and flavorful. It lacked a sweetener save honey, letting the cacao’s natural bitterness show through, and was spiced with both chili pepper and vanilla. Novel to the Hyur, but delicious, and he had small problem with the bitterness considering Ul’dahn coffee was usually served black. 

He was given only a short while to appreciate it, however, as the orchestrion began to pipe a tune into Koana’s chambers. A percussive melody, with an even tempo, light and smooth but still quite rich. The Vow of Reason stared at the orchestrion for just a moment. He took a breath, summed up his courage, and then turned to Ifan with a smile as he offered the Hyur his hand. 

“Might you do me the honor of a dance?” he asked. His other hand was held behind his back, and he stood upright in the very spitting image of courteous propriety.

The Hyur had to stop and stare for a few moments, clearly not believing just what he was seeing, and starting to suspect that he might be at a disadvantage. A small, incredulous breath then left his lips, and he set the cup down on the warmer before wiping his lips - which were already bare, but allowed him to hide another bashful smile. “I didn’t know you could dance, either.” he said, giving a pleased and airy chuckle as he stepped forward.

Koana simply flicked his ears and raised his chin a little. “I am Turali.” he stated, proudly. Then he let out a small chuckle of his own, the pomposity a little much even for him. “But I am pleased to see you do, as well.” he teasingly observed, noting Ifan hadn’t declined.

Ifan gave him a wry but still quite happy smile. “I’m Ul’dahn. Silk veils weaving a rainbow, and all that.” he chortled. Then he took Koana’s hand, and stepped forward to meet him. 

The Hhetsarro had to swallow slightly as he fought off his anxiety. He considered himself decent when it came to dancing: even if he hadn’t been raised in a culture prizing the performing arts, he was a machinist with a perfect sense of timing and good spatial awareness. But he hadn’t had a lot of practice with this sort of dancing, much less leading a much taller partner. This was where his planning ran into unknown factors - where he had to put his faith in Ifan, and himself, to find a mutual rhythm. 

But he was determined. So he raised his other hand and placed it upon Ifan’s waist. It wasn’t a polite grasp, however, more resembling Koana’s grip when he’d kissed Ifan. He looked up at him over the rim of his glasses, pupils slightly widened with his manifest resolve. Ifan looked back down at him, not coyly or flirtatiously but simply with happiness and trusting appreciation as he placed his other hand on Koana’s shoulder, and let him take the lead. Koana took a breath, and stepped.

There was a basic pattern, but as with many dances in Tural the greater part was left to improvisation. Koana stepped forward, leading, and found Ifan met him with ease by stepping back to follow. They didn’t keep respectful distance, with Koana making sure their thighs were flush whenever they stepped close, and his hand wandered where it needed to in order to keep Ifan balanced whenever he or Ifan stepped around each other. When Koana urged Ifan to spin, the Hyur adjusted to the difference in height by just releasing Koana’s hand before he turned, trusting the Hhetsarro to catch his hand on the return - which he did, without fail, their palms meeting in a light clap as Ifan’s hand returned to his. 

They wove a slow and winding path from Koana’s chambers onto the balcony, where Azeyma’s light had fully faded and Menphina’s waxing crescent shone behind a soft brushwork of clouds over the starry firmament. A warm a slightly humid evening that was eased by Oschon’s winds breezing up across Tuliyollal. The music was now softer in the distance, but both of their attention was affixed upon each other: the music was just present as a guide to movement, and overlaid with both their footsteps and the occasional huffing from exertion. Koana had no problem handling Ifan’s weight, being well used to his equipment, and that Ifan was well trained in balancing made dancing with him all the easier.

Koana slid his arm around the Hyur, hand grasping Ifan’s other side as he led him in a slow arcing swing. Ifan huffed and grinned a little as he let himself be led, his sandal dragging on the stones and kicking up a gently rising wreath of sparkling umbral ice. The Vow of Reason couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the display of showmanship, but nonetheless continued leading him around until they were amidst the veil of gleaming frost. 

The former Second Promise admitted he was well and truly charmed by his magician. But Koana had one more card left up his sleeve, which he’d stowed there when he’d planned the evening. It was a risky card, and if he played it badly then the whole thing would be spoiled. But if he did it perfectly… so Koana steeled himself, then made his final move.

As Ifan stepped back, Koana slid his other foot around and unexpectedly caught Ifan’s heel. The Hyur blinked and gasped as he begin to stumble, tumbling back… and with a lunge, Koana caught him with his arms and lowered Ifan’s back onto his thigh.

They stared at one another as frost glimmered in the air around them, Koana gazing down at Ifan in a picture perfect dip. Ifan’s lips were parted, and his eyebrows were completely lowered at the ends. There was a pause. Then Koana smiled, and gave Ifan a wink.

Ifan’s cheeks and chest turned very, very dark. Then he pouted, the Hyur’s fingers curling in Koana’s shirt as he lowered his chin in a futile effort to conceal his face. 

Koana’s smile then widened into a triumphant grin. His ears flicked happily, and he leaned down to press his lips to Ifan in a deep and loving kiss. Though it started tenderly, the strain of their position soon forced Koana to lower Ifan to the ground. They kept kissing, the Vow of Reason simply following the Warrior of Light onto the ground where it became so clumsy that it ended in the pair of them trying not to laugh against each others’ lips, while the music faded in the background as the roll on the orchestrion ran out and left them alone in quiet.

When they finally broke their kiss, Ifan gaze up happily at Koana. “They do indeed court properly in Tuliyollal.” he agreed with a slow nod, lying back on the stone save where his back was braced by Koana’s arm. 

The Vow of Reason took in a mirthful huff, then chuckled as his ears and tail moved where they would with wild abandon. He was as surprised as Ifan that it had gone off as planned, and the heady thrill of having taken a big risk and being rewarded chased away all motes of stiffness or embarrassment. So Koana gave a slow and courteous, but nonetheless still slightly teasing nod, and grinned back down at the Warrior of Light before replying. “They can indeed dance in Ul’dah, as well.”

[astrology-bf]

A Hot Mess

(CW: Contains Major Dawntrail Spoilers, Explicit NSFW, A Beach Episode)

It should have been so simple.

The Second Promise of Tuliyollal had thought he had a handle on himself: a sense of both his strengths and weaknesses, and fair guess as to his limitations. He was no mighty warrior, nor particularly outgoing, but Koana knew that he was smart and studied - enough to make up for what he lacked. Had Sharlayan not proved the final winner in the contest between brains and brawn? Even mighty Garlemald, for all its strength, found the Scholar’s city too dangerous a prize to try and claim. All Koana needed do was follow that example, and Sharlayan ingenuity would even out the playing field between Zoraal Ja, Bakool Ja Ja, and Koana. Lamaty’i, for all her well-intentioned zeal, was no true contender. He only hoped she wouldn’t take it badly when she lost.

Except… she didn’t. 

Wuk Lamat, Third Promise of Tuliyollal, had won. Bakool Ja Ja had failed to acquire more than two keystones despite briefly having thieved another, and the Resilient Son disqualified himself right at the finish line by attacking an elector out of anger. Lamaty’i had struggled, but with the help of Krile Baldesion, the Leveilleur siblings, and the Warrior of Light, she’d found her way: learning of the people of Tural and their many cultures and traditions. And even when it might have cost her victory, she never hesitated to take time to render aid. She’d heard the people’s words, felt and learned the lessons in their stories, and thought how best to serve them before acting. She recognized her limitations, too, no longer trying to be a solitary unbroken pillar but instead a real leader : listening to expertise she didn’t have, and leaning on her friends to cover for her weaknesses as she lent her strength to cover theirs in turn. And that was why Koana forfeited. 

It had been the hardest shot he’d ever made in all of years of practice with a gun, but he’d destroyed his tablet as a final declaration of his belief that Lamaty’i was the only real choice. He’d been wrong about her, and wrong about himself. It was painful to admit defeat, but Koana loved his sister more than he disliked the feeling of inadequacy. He was still Lamaty’i’s brother, and doubtless he’d have opportunities to further introduce new innovations to Tural - not at the pace he might have liked, but one Tural could stomach. So Koana, forever Second Promise and no more than that, would be whatever Tuliyollal’s next Dawnservant would need. Even if that was apparently a courier.

Koana hadn’t seen much of Lamaty’i since she’d returned, but he could hardly blame her: though their father had long planned it, there were still final preparations to be made which took up time. The people of Tuliyollal had gotten wind that a successor had been chosen, but it seemed exactly who that was remained unknown. People didn’t seem to realize Zoraal Ja had disappeared, nor that Bakool Ja Ja had failed, or even that Koana forfeited. It was a little painful seeing those supporting him still looking at him hopefully, ignorant of how the Second Promise had completely failed them. But he made no effort to correct them - the announcement was not his to make, and Koana was in truth appreciative of just a few more days to steel himself to face the public. He wouldn’t be out now, but Lamaty’i had asked him if he’d bear a message to the Warrior of Light on her behalf - a task that he’d accepted, as he had reasons of his own to speak with Ifan.

The Warrior of Light had ended up surprising Koana in a lot of ways. He was indeed a clever and quite powerful spellcaster, as the Second Promise witnessed when he’d fought beside him against Valigarmanda and Gulool Ja Ja’s shade, but what seemed different to Koana was that Ifan spent a lot of time considering the ‘should’ of it, rather than the ‘could’: he could have cleared Lamaty’i’s path, but chose instead to let her stumble on occasion and be there to offer comfort and assistance if she genuinely found it insurmountable. The silly man was rather wise… not just wise, but kind. He hadn’t said a word about their talk in Kozama’uka to Lamaty’i or the others, and from that point had been nothing but friendly and supportive of Koana as a person, if not a candidate for Dawnservant. Perhaps that’s partly why Koana opted to delay and help deal with Valigarmanda - he’d be leaving Lamaty’i to fight it by herself if he proceeded, yes, but he also saw the note of disappointment in the Warrior of Light’s expression. Like he expected Koana to be better. And he, like Lamaty'i, seemed elated when the Second Promise had arrived to help. 

Forfeiting his claim had been the hardest shot he’d ever had to make, but it was worth the sight of the appreciation in his sister’s eyes, and the admiration in Urianger’s, Thancred’s… and Ifan’s. He wasn’t quite sure why, but it had made Koana smile to see the Warrior of Light impressed with him. 

He was a good man. Clever, learned, good-looking (Koana supposed), adventurous, compassionate, and fun to be around… All the things Koana wasn’t, save his own wits and study. No wonder Lamaty’i seemed so enchanted with him: he’d taught her what she needed while never asking her to sacrifice what mattered most - her love for life, and her love for her people. What had Koana done, save condescendingly beseech her to just let him take care of her? It felt like in a mere few months the Warrior of Light had been a better mentor to Lamaty’i than Koana had for her entire life. Not only was he a failed Promise, he’d failed as a brother.

Koana knew the feeling that he felt was jealousy. That silly foreign mage with his damn smile and his blue eyes and that laugh which made Koana’s ears twitch, with his many friends and partner who was the expert on all matters Allagan, who’d just breezed into Tural one day and did the things Koana couldn’t for his father and his sister. And now Lamaty’i wished for him to join her as a part of her administration: that was the message that he’d been asked to bear. The Dawnservant-elect had come to view the Warrior of Light as irreplaceable… and though he knew it to be otherwise, it felt to Koana that he himself had been replaced.

For all that, he couldn’t bring himself to cast resentment towards Ifan. Not after everything he’d done for Lamaty’i, and for Koana too. The Hhetsarro’s own inadequacies were just that: his own. However much a mess he felt at present, he owed the Warrior of Light civility. And so he inhaled, steeled himself, and raised his hand to knock upon the door of Ifan’s cabin.

“Just a moment!” called a voice. 

Koana wasn’t waiting long. Some sort of rune flared up above the handle before it faded, and then the door swung open to reveal the Warrior of Light in partial dress. He wore his pants, but was barefoot and had exchanged his tunic for a garment that Koana identified as some sort of silk jacket in a Doman style. The Second Promise blinked and pursed his lips as he realized Ifan was without a shirt, and quickly snapped his eyes up so they didn’t linger on the ash-brown fuzz that dusted his pectorals. 

Ifan blinked at him, then smiled. “Koana.” he greeted. 

Koana cleared his throat, then nodded at Ifan politely. “Surprised to see me? I suppose it’s only natural.” he stated, cursing at himself for being uncivil and not starting with a greeting.

The Hyur didn’t seem to mind, and gave a little laugh. “Somewhat. ‘Tis a pleasant surprise, however. Do you want to come in?” he offered as he stepped aside.

Koana paused briefly, then decided it was better that they speak in private lest Second Promise let his judgment lapse and say something uncivil towards Ifan in earshot of others. Not that such was what he came to say. So he stepped into the cabin and let Ifan close the door behind him, and spared a moment to inspect the way he lived.

Messily. There were books scattered about, and he had a tendency to drape his clothes over a chair rather than fold them. It also smelt of both mezcal and some kind of herbal smoke. A little strange, as Ifan seemed quite neat in public: but then again, Koana’s own workshop could easily be called a bomb site whenever he became a little too involved with some new project, and he was utterly fastidious in his appearance.

“What can I do for you?” asked Ifan. The man leaned back against the table with his arms crossed, mercifully obscuring any chance of his jacket slipping and revealing something; though Koana felt his lips purse slightly as his peripheral vision noted the inadvertent framing of that curve. He didn’t mind it, it was just rather distracting.

Nonetheless, he nodded graciously. “I haven’t properly thanked you.” he began.

Ifan blinked, then chuckled once. “You’ve thanked me a few times, Koana.” he pointed out.

Koana grimaced slightly, remembering that he had indeed thanked Ifan. His ears flicked in embarrassment, but he continued. “Yet I still feel the need to do so. That my sister was able to realize her potential is a testament to the quality of her traveling companions. Particularly you. For that, you have my heartfelt gratitude.” His face was quite composed, but the feeling in his voice was genuine… as was the difficulty. But Thancred and Urianger had counseled him to be more open with himself, and so he did his best.

The smile on Ifan’s face lost any coyness, becoming something warm and slightly thrilling to Koana’s eyes. “I only did what you would have done in my shoes.” he replied, canting his head towards the Second Promise with a pointed look.

The Hhetsarro’s cheeks began to darken as his ears splayed flat, but an appreciative smile soon overtook his face. He reveled in the feeling of the Hyur’s admiration for a moment… and not a moment longer. He settled his expression, and nodded sagely. “...My primary business in calling is to deliver a message from Lamaty’i.” he began again. “As you well know, after the ascension ceremony she will officially take up the mantle of Dawnservant. She has expressed a desire for you to accept a post within her administration… while making no mention of me.” Koana blinked in realization at his verbal slip. That wasn’t a remotely relevant detail to Ifan. His lips parted out of instinct, as he readied to apologize and once again withdraw… But once again, Koana remembered his friends’ words. And so he simply nodded, having said the partial truth of how he felt.

Ifan’s humor faded at Koana’s words, though the latter couldn’t quite identify whatever feeling that the Warrior of Light was showing on his face. Displeasure? Concern? He didn’t voice it, merely hummed and nodded for Koana to continue.

Koana was somewhat relieved that Ifan didn’t press him. “You needn’t decide immediately. My sister will broach the matter with you again after the ceremony. Whether or not you continue to assist Lamaty’i is up to you.” He paused again, lips twisting and his ears lowering to press themselves against his skull as he clenched his fists behind his back. It was momentary, however, and though it was a struggle he gave words to his thoughts. “...You have become someone irreplaceable to her. As her brother, I acknowledge that with no little jealousy. But believe me when I say I hope you will stay by her side.” Koana didn’t look at Ifan as he spoke to him, head lowered deferentially and arms still held behind his back as if addressing a superior. The Hhetsarro felt his tail hairs bristle slightly at the awkward tension, and what he felt was gracelessness on his own part. His lips twisted, and he closed his eyes and nodded. “That is all. If you will excuse me.” he finished, bidding Ifan a farewell.

“Koana.”

The Second Promise felt his ears twitch as his name was uttered. He raised his head to meet the Hyur’s gaze with apprehension on his face… but it eased somewhat at the Warrior of Light’s expression. Ifan had his silly smile again, though strangely pointed and endearing,

Ifan rose from where he leaned against the table. “Are you busy, at the moment?” he asked.

Koana blinked, then shook his head. “I have no prior commitments.” he stated.

The Hyur smiled. “How about a walk? We can get something to eat, as well.” he suggested as he gestured at the door.

Koana felt his ears begin to flatten as his face fell. A note of shame then flickered in his eyes, feeling very childish in contrast to Ifan kindly offering his company. “I would not wish to bother you further.” he answered. Then he swallowed as he lowered his gaze again.

Ifan stepped forward and reached up to squeeze Koana’s shoulder. “Hardly a bother, you’re surprisingly good company. Just give me a moment to get more decent.” he said, reassuringly.

The alternative, that being returning to his chambers and spending the night trying not to sulk, did appeal to Koana on some level. The urge to just be truculent and graceless, to just accept his stiffness and not try to make the effort. Sitting in his workshop or his study, while the world moved on ahead of him… and left him behind. 

Ifan had a hand extended, though. Not physically, but he could tell the man was looking back for him, to make sure that he kept pace. He likely knew how Koana felt, to some degree… Ifan shared that he was orphaned, too. He was looking out for him. So Koana nodded, and took the figurative hand. “I will await you outside.” he agreed.

It didn’t take the Hyur long to dress, as he simply traded out his jacket for a cotton tunic in a Hannish style that moved like woven air with its sheer weave, and donned a belt and pair of shoes before he joined the Second Promise on a walk. They’d no destination, but Ifan had suggested that they walk along the shorefront before returning through the Bevy in a loop. Koana had agreed, though he insisted he walk Ifan the entire way: he was still Second Promise, and Ifan was a guest within his city. 

The evening was quite pleasant: earlier humidity had now been eased by a fresh ocean breeze, and the sky was nearly cloudless. Menphina was not visible, however, her shining face concealed behind the veiled mystery of a new lover’s moon… but the Arrow seemed to gleam the brighter for her absence, as if the Wanderer proved intent on being there in her stead. The city was less busy than it would have been as Tuliyollal conserved its energy for crowning a new Dawnservant, so Ifan and Koana walked largely by themselves along the shore.

“Do you have a favorite book?” asked Ifan. They hadn’t spoken much since they’d decided where to go, Ifan giving Koana space to speak but finding that the latter was too hesitant.

Koana glanced at Ifan, then let out a mirthless chuckle. “The answer to that question seems to change every day. I cannot pick one.” he said, unable to conceal his literary fondness. 

Ifan grinned at him, and Koana felt his ears flick happily. “Ah, that’s how I know you’re a real book lover.” he hummed brightly. “What is your favorite today, then?” he asked.

The Second Promise straightened up a little, tail rising from where it had hung lankly the entire walk. “It is a treatise on the aetheric ziplines used on the Isle of Haam. I had thought I might explore the use of them around Tuliyollal.” he explained. The city’s elevation was a constant problem for both pedestrians and commerce, and though the local aethernet had helped immensely there were those who couldn’t use them. 

“Oh, those?” replied Ifan with a pleased nod of agreement. “They are pretty fun, and I can see them being useful here. Any interesting insights from this treatise?” asked the magician.

Koana nodded with a hum. “The principle hurdle seems to be maintaining a consistent density of aether.” he explained, eyes gleaming as the wheels turned in his head. “The Isle of Haam is rich in it, Tuliyollal less so - ceruleum may be an option, but I would need to study physical examples to see if such is possible. Even if not for civilian use, rapid transit through the city’s elevations would be of great facility to the Landsguard in responding to a crisis.” He gave Ifan a smile, and gestured up towards the higher reaches of Tuliyollal as if to indicate precisely where he’d recommend the line be built. 

Ifan gazed at Koana with a grin as he explained, his cheeks turning a faintly ruddy bronze at seeing the way the Second Promise’s expression turned absolutely radiant when he was speaking from the heart. “Well, if you ever need an escort for an expedition for such a study, I’d be happy to accompany you. Maybe you can show me a few places I missed in Sharlayan, too.” he offered.

The Hhetsarro gave a grin, then - faint, but nonetheless apparent, as was the way his ears and tail near quivered for a moment as he relished the idea. Then Koana blinked as he remembered that the choice about a zipline was no longer his. His expression settled. “It seems I shall have the time.” he stated, quietly.   

Ifan’s own smile faded into a quiet look of concern. By now, they’d passed the central docks and walked beneath the shade of Bayside Bevy’s larger warehouses. At length, Ifan spoke again. “She hasn’t forgotten you, by the way.” he said.

Koana blinked and glanced at Ifan sharply. “Has she said something to you?’ he asked, hesitantly.

The Hyur looked back at Koana and shook his head apologetically, but gave him a reassuring smile. “I just know her. She can barely go a few minutes without mentioning something Koana did or how Koana might perceive this situation. Just have a little faith in her.” He reached over to place a hand on Koana’s shoulderblade, and gave his back a gentle pat before withdrawing.

A sigh left Koana’s lips as his ears lowered. He knew it wasn’t just a lie to make him feel better… Lamaty’i did love him. Maybe it was just the fact she looked to Ifan, where once she looked to Koana. The Second Promise nodded. “It is difficult, I will admit. I’d put great hope in being Dawnservant.” he confessed, swallowing and looking faintly miserable.

“You’ll find your way, Koana. You’re a strong man.” soothed Ifan.

Koana swallowed once again, then looked at Ifan in gratitude. Nonetheless, his eyes were pleading. “I do not feel so.” he admitted.

Ifan halted, then, turning towards Koana and looking down to meet his gaze. Though they now stood at the harbor’s near-deserted far end, the Hhetsarro’s eyes had little difficulty in the gloom - he could see the soft and sad expression upon Ifan’s face. “...You and I have a lot in common, Koana. Being used to being the strong one. The older brother, the champion. Living afraid that if we let our guard down for a moment then everything will disappear. It took a lot of strength to do what you did, forfeiting like that.” he said, quietly. His tone was far from silly or unserious, carrying with it a strange note that Koana could only liken to treading on a set of stairs that once bore too much weight. “I admire that. Whatever else you are, you’re a good man. That’s what really matters.” He smiled, then - not coy, but true feeling.

For the first time, Koana found himself actually wondering what it was like in Ifan’s shoes. All those deeds he’d done within the books he’d read ,or tales he’d heard from portside rumors made no mention of how Ifan truly felt about his life. He noticed, then, how many scars the Hyur had beneath his gauzy tunic. The man had clearly suffered for his calling, and hearing such a person reassure him… Koana felt himself return the smile. “I thank you, Ifan.” he replied, his ears and tail both rising slightly as he voiced the words. Then he let out a breathy laugh. “The impression I had is that you disliked me.” he added, sheepishly.

Ifan chuckled with a nod. “I was wary, aye.” he admitted.

Koana’s smile eased, but his expression was less weighty than before. “Because I opposed Lamaty’i?” he asked, with genuine curiosity.

The magician hummed sagely, then let out an awkward breath. “You had me worried that Tural might turn into another Garlemald, for a few moments. Particularly in Kozama’uka.” he explained.

“You did seem… annoyed, if I had to put a word to it.” muttered the Hhetsarro, remembering the way that Ifan looked at him.

“If it helps, it was more a matter of…” Ifan began, before pausing as he chose his words. “Garlemald made a practice of eradicating local cultures if they deemed it threatening or inefficient. Othard’s magical traditions may take centuries to recover, if they do all. I could have healed the fields quite easily, even more so if I didn’t care about disrupting other parts of Kozama’uka’s aether - but Ihih’hana, silly as it seems, was the right choice. People need meaning to survive, not only food.” he explained. Then he chuckled, and grinned down at Koana happily. “But I don’t need to tell you. You learned the lesson, and as said… I admire that. You didn’t let me down in Urqopacha or in Yak Tel. I think of you as a friend, but I don’t mind if that’s unrequited.” he finished.

Koana stared at Ifan. A breath escaped his lips, and his ears and tail were perfectly still. Every conversation that he’d had with the magician, Koana had experienced this same feeling in his chest at points: a swell within his breast that made him want to cling to something lest he float away on it. A lightness that the Hyur could kindle with his words or laugh. Even the mere sight of him. His silly smile. Ifan wore a beard, but he kept it neatly trimmed and oiled so it framed his mouth quite nicely. A floral oil, it smelled like, that went well with the note of herbal spice that Koana had come to recognize as Ifan’s scent. Koana probably had a better chance to figure out what kind of oil it was if he got closer. Close enough to kiss him, even.

“Something on my face?” asked Ifan with a lofted brow and somewhat amused expression.

The Second Promise took a moment just to register that he’d been spoken to. Then he blinked and shook his head quite sharply, ears pressing flat in realization of just how messy he allowed his thoughts to get. “Forgive me. My thoughts ran away with me.” he apologized.

Ifan hummed. “Where to?” he asked, crossing his arms.

Koana’s lips began to twist within the flat frown he’d set them in, his gaze off to the side as he tried not to pray for the beach to open up beneath his feet and swallow him. “It would not be polite of me to say.” he stated, quietly.

Ifan nodded slowly, then smirked. “Fuck politeness.” he stated, crassly.

The Second Promise’s ears flicked sharply at the vulgar language, and he winced instinctively. He grimaced as he reached up to remove his glasses, then took his time in taking out a cloth to clean them - not that they weren’t spotless, but he needed an excuse to steel himself. He slid the spectacles back on, then swallowed. “...Your lips.” he forced out.

Ifan blinked as both his brows shot up. Then a pleased huff escaped him. “If you want to kiss me, you can just ask.” he snickered as he gave Koana a teasing grin.

Koana’s ears pressed flat against his skull as his cheeks darkened. “I have… never…” he muttered, trying not to fidget with his gloves.

The coyness in the Hyur’s expression faded into something more sedate. He blinked again and chuckled at himself. “...Oh. Sorry, I-” he began.

Koana shook his head, forestalling an apology for forwardness. “The opportunity has never… presented itself.” he explained, somewhat awkwardly.

Ifan gave a sympathetic and appreciative smile. “Well… I’m not here to force you, nor do I want to create any unfair expectations.  But if opportunity is what you want - I won’t say no.” he offered.

The flush within Koana’s cheeks turned even darker, and he almost pouted as he did his best to avoid eye contact. “Would not your partner have words regarding it?” he asked.

Ifan rolled his eyes and snickered. “That’s assuming he wouldn’t want to kiss you, too.” he countered, looking Koana up and down as if finding the idea of watching G’raha kiss him rather thrilling.

Koana blinked as he met Ifan’s gaze. “You want to kiss me?” he asked, unable to conceal his disbelief. 

The Hyur smiled at him admonishingly, as if Koana’s desirability should be completely obvious. “I’d like to, aye. Not just on the lips, either.” he added with a wink.

Koana felt his ears splay flat as his toes and tail curled at the suggestion. He swallowed and sucked on his tongue, his usual stiffness struggling with his present situation’s unfamiliarity. “...I would not wish to be unsatisfactory.” he answered, at length.

Ifan shook his head. “I’m satisfied just talking to you.” he answered, earnestly. “And if you want, we can just move on and forget this tangent ever happened. Whatever would make you happy.” Then he gave Koana a friendly smile, reassuring him that he expected nothing. 

That was a comfort. He’d let his judgment lapse in Ifan’s presence several times, and every time the man had handled it with grace and just been there for him. So Koana didn’t doubt that if he wrote this evening off as one of him not being clear-headed, it wouldn’t change a thing… But that was the problem, was it not? Dissatisfaction with the present. He’d never had the time for things like what the Hyur was suggesting. He had it now… and the opportunity, too. With someone that he trusted, and looked rather nice. So Koana glanced at Ifan, and he nodded slowly. “...Perhaps it is time to try something new.” he consented.

“That’s the spirit.” said Ifan with a reassuring smile. Then he stepped forward, and reached for Koana’s hands. The Hhetsarro’s ears flicked upright as his palms were placed on Ifan’s waist. “Why don’t you take the lead? Explore a bit.” he suggested, quietly.

Koana blinked and swallowed, then looked around. “Here?” he asked. This end of the shoreline was deserted, but there was always the odd chance that someone might walk by.

Ifan smirked. “If you want.” he chortled. Then he looked around himself, and nodded before guiding Koana over to a pillar in the port’s retaining wall where they could stand largely obscured in shadow. He leaned against the wall, and drew Koana forward to press against him before he hummed and let the Second Promise take the lead.

Koana had no notion where he’d even start. He had read… things… but reading it was very different from doing it. It couldn’t be that hard, could it? Ifan told him to explore, and didn’t seem afraid that Koana might do something wrong. His hands grasped Ifan’s waist, fingers slightly kneading and his lips pursed tightly as his anxiety mounted, eyes fixed on Ifan’s chest but not seeing a thing.

Only when the Hyur reached up and gently slid his glasses off did Koana take a breath. His violet eyes flicked up to Ifan’s wine-dark blue.

“Might be hard to kiss with these.” hummed Ifan gently, his free hand sliding up Koana’s back until his fingers were pressed at the nape of the Hhetsarro’s neck, under his collar. A brief tactile reminder of the neck massage in Kozama’uka.

Koana let out another breath, a little bashful but still grateful for the Hyur’s guidance. He took his glasses and slid them into the pocket of his coat, then wet his lips as he locked eyes with Ifan once again. He let out a breath, and did what came naturally: leaning forward and up, appreciating Ifan craning his head down so he didn’t have to stand upon his toes, their noses brushing as Koana finally identified the scent within his beard - Azeyma rose, which lured him further in until he felt his lips press against Ifan’s in a shy and gentle kiss.

Ifan slid his arms around Koana, but didn’t hold him tightly: a loose draping of his arms to scaffold the Hhetsarro as the latter drew back slightly before kissing Ifan a second time. Then he pressed forward, parting his lips hesitantly but quickly finding confidence once Ifan drew his tongue in with his own. Koana’s nervousness and hesitation ebbed away, ears kept perked and listening for any change in Ifan’s sounds so he could tell what the magician liked. Though Koana didn’t realize it at first, his hands had started wandering all over Ifan’s back and sides… though he didn’t stop when realization hit him, since he liked the bit of padding in the mage’s thighs and torso. He was very warm, as well, the inside of his mouth near scalding when Koana braved it with his tongue. Fun to kiss, and fun to grope. So Koana just indulged. 

A rolling purr began to hum from Koana’s chest as he and Ifan kissed, the former growing confident and pressing Ifan up against the wall so he could kiss him that more deeply, rubbing up against him as Hhetsarro often did to grind their scent into their partner. It wasn’t how the Second Promise had imagined his first kiss, but it was thrilling nonetheless. 

Too thrilling.

Ifan blinked as Koana sharply pulled away with a choked gasp. He shuddered and convulsed quite violently… and then relaxed into a gentle twitching. His head was lowered and his eyes were tightly shut, lips set into a small line.

The Hyur blinked again, then let out a breath. “...Did you just-” he began, faintly incredulous.

“Say nothing.” gritted out Koana, ears pressing flat against his skull as he tried not to think about the stickiness within his breeches. Of course the Second Promise couldn’t go a mere few minutes without… “I… I apologize, it was-” he shook his head, utterly ashamed… then gave a yelp as he was turned around and pinned against the wall. 

Ifan was grinning down at him with a look of burning lust within his eyes that made Koana gasp and shudder. “Hot. Very hot.” he churled. Unable to restrain himself, he reached down between Koana’s legs to grip his groin and give it a good squeeze. “And still up for more, it feels like.” he observed with a lewd shaking of his head. 

Koana’s face was burning dark, his pupils dilated and his ears and tail both quivering. “Ifan-” he gasped, then brought a gloved hand up to his mouth to try and stifle a loud groan as Ifan groped him. He didn’t protest, however, the Second Promise’s hips rolling to meet where Ifan’s hand was pressed against his groin. 

Ifan gave a hum at the growing wetness on his palm. “Feels like you made a mess, too. Don’t worry, my dear prince, I’ll get you cleaned up.” he stated, then moved to unclasp Koana’s belt so he could unbutton the Hhetsarro’s breeches.

It took a moment for the man to register what Ifan was doing. He blinked, then swallowed. “Wait-” he began, then paused as he caught sight of Ifan’s expression.

Ifan raised an eyebrow. “...Huh.” he said.

Koana went perfectly still. “What?” he asked, hesitantly.

The Warrior of Light smirked wryly as he gave a very impressed hum. “...Surprised you don’t keel over with that.” he observed. 

Koana felt the hairs on both his ears and tail bristle in embarrassment. “It is not that- gods below… ” His protest was cut off by his own hand on his mouth as Ifan knelt and swallowed him before he dragged his lips away and left him nearly spotless before making sure the mess within the pale green fuzz below his navel and between his thighs was fully cleaned - and then he took him in his mouth again, before he let the Second Promise take the reins.

He was hesitant at first, as he’d been when they had kissed - but not for quite as long, given just how good it felt. But soon enough Koana had his hands in Ifan’s hair, slowly grinding up against his face and building a much deeper pace save whenever Ifan had to take a moment just to breathe considering Koana’s size. He was allowed far fewer of them as Koana found his stride, the Hhetsarro far more focused on ensuring that the muttered slurs and curses in Turali didn’t get too loud - though his focus on that failed, too, as after a point Koana had turned Ifan around so that his head was up against the wall and had nowhere to go when Koana thrust. The Hhetsarro was sweating in his machinist’s coat, one forearm braced against the wall while his teeth were digging into the glove upon his other hand, hips working at a steady pace and ears flicking as they reveled in the filthy noises that were coming from between his legs. It was a blissful feeling: no migraine, no duty, no worry. Just the warmth around him, the sounds within his ears, and Ifan’s scent within his nose.

As he neared his peak, however, he realized where he was. The Second Promise of Tuliyollal, in public on the beach, his pants around his thighs and groin-deep in the throat of the Warrior of Light. Anyone could walk by, at any second. It was frightening… or was it thrilling. But he felt a surge of heat within his core as he began to pant in panic, then- “Ifan… I-... Wait-”

He took a step back, but it was too late. Koana braced himself against the wall with one palm as he bit down on his other fist, already coming as he sprang free of the Hyur’s mouth and spattered both his face and chest with stickiness. Ifan chased him, however, and Koana had to try his hardest not to cry out as he was taken to the base and near-devoured, still shuddering and shaking as his climax was prolonged.

Koana wasn’t given any chance to slip into regret. Ifan slid back slowly, still pleasuring but with less pressure to help Koana climb down at a steady pace. And when he had come down enough, the Warrior of Light released him - though his hands remained on Koana’s hips in steady reassurance.

He could hardly think. Everything felt good, everything was spinning. He was sweaty and a mess, and Ifan even more so; he couldn’t quite believe that all that messy white on Ifan’s face was his. Not that he complained… He found himself grin faintly at the sight of it. 

Ifan grinned back up at him, licking his lips and chuckling. “How are you feeling, my dear prince? Besides messy.” he asked, looking very pleased despite the redness in his eyes and the brazen flush all down his face and neck.

Koana thought about it for a moment, but as he made to answer he was interrupted by a rather loud protesting rumble from his stomach. The Second Promise closed his eyes and hung his head, defeated. “...My body will permit no propriety today, it would seem.” he lamented. Then he gave a breathy laugh.

The Warrior of Light began to laugh, and then he shook his head before he stood and wiped his face with his left hand. “Don’t need to worry about that around me. I could use a bite myself. Not that you aren’t delectable.” he added, licking a finger with a wink.

Koana pursed his lips as he pulled up his pants, but mostly just to hide his smile. “You are a silly man.” he stated. 

“Silly, huh?” asked Ifan, seeming quite amused.

The Second Promise nodded sharply. “Yes. Silly.” he repeated.

Ifan stuck his tongue out from between his teeth. “And that turns you on, doesn’t it?” he teased. Then he gestured with his hand, and in a shimmer all the mess on both himself and Koana was magicked into nothingness.

Koana gave a little frown, trying not to seem impressed by Ifan’s legerdemain. “I will neither confirm nor deny such.” he answered, though his tone was teasing. Then proved unable to conceal his smile.

The Warrior of Light smiled back, then gave a little grin. “Then I must perform some Feats to get a better understanding of you. Shall we Repast?” he asked, reminding Koana of the rather enjoyable challenge of preparing xibruq pibil.

The Second Promise had to chuckle. Whatever happened, he was a man with his own life, and Ifan seemed determined to remind him to enjoy it. His body was still shivering occasionally from just how much he had. 

Koana gave a nod and reached up for his glasses, before he placed them on his face once more. “I am in your hands, my friend. Lead the way.”

[astrology-bf]

A Royal Headache

(CW: Contains Dawntrail Spoilers and Gay Stuff in July)

Knowledge is power.

Koana, the Second Promise of Tuliyollal, was a firm believer in the maxim. Even something basic and taken for granted like the use of fire is knowledge, and thus within a campfire’s embers the spark of empire may be found. Knowledge was what drew him to Sharlayan in the first place, and what still drove him even now: the power to effect positive change in ordinary people’s lives, and ensure Tural's lasting prosperity. Whatever else the Second Promise may have been, he was at heart a scholar dedicated to the public good.

As is a scholar’s wont when challenged, no sooner had Koana caught wind that Lamaty’i had also sought out allies in Sharlayan than did he commit himself to knowing everything he could about them. Know thine enemy, as the other maxim goes - a task made all the easier by the stroke of fortune that the very same Sharlayans that were helping him were personally acquainted his sister’s new followers.

Lamaty’i had found herself a concerningly impressive set of allies, if what Thancred and Urianger said was even partly true. While neither Alisaie and Alphinaud Leveilleur nor Krile Baldesion were archons, the former two had reputations that were the equal of Koana’s own allies despite their fairly tender age, and the latter was well known as Galuf’s granddaughter and a skilled mage of her own. But most concerning to Koana was the other person that his sister had cajoled into assisting her: Ifan Kaleid, the Warrior of Light himself.

Tales of the exploits of a man by such a title had indeed reached Tural, but only those that kept their ears to foreign gossip as Koana did could put a name to him. And only those with any interest in separating myth from fact would try to parse some truth from aforementioned stories: embellished, to Koana’s mind, as a magician riding on a phoenix and calling down a meteor to liberate a conquered nation from a dragon prince seemed mythological. Obviously embellished… or at least Koana thought so. Yet both his archon allies had confirmed the tales were largely true in essence, though missing certain elements or having certain flourishes. 

Now somewhat paranoid that Lamaty’i had lucked into some manner of demigod to fight on her behalf, Koana pressed Thancred and Urianger for more. He needed to know everything about the Warrior of Light if he had the slightest chance to plan around him. It was essential.

For all the help and counsel the pair proved willing to provide, however, discussion of the Warrior of Light was apparently a bridge too far. Thancred had quite adamantly refused to speak of Ifan in his absence, and though Urianger’s refusal was less obvious, the way he nimbly dodged Koana’s questions attested to how equally disinclined he was. They told him only the bare minimum: ‘magician’ was a title of his choosing to reflect his breadth of study, which was very wide and very deep despite his age, and that he was every bit the hero that the stories said. A good and kindly man that would do all within his power to take care of Lamaty’i. Otherwise, they said nothing - obviously believing Ifan was entitled to his privacy, however much it frustrated Koana.

While somewhat reassured that Lamaty’i was in good company, it didn’t change the calculus of Ifan being an unknown factor in a race where far too many factors were unknown, or beyond Koana’s control. From what it sounded like, if the Warrior of Light were of mind to do so he could eliminate the competition on a whim, even ones as dangerous as Bakool Ja and Zoraal Ja. The stories painted him as someone equal to his father, if such a being existed, yet achieving such around Koana’s own age. For many, that would have been good reason to throw in the towel, but neither Urianger nor Thancred expressed concern at being in competition with the Warrior of Light: quite the opposite, as the way they seemed to relish it gave off the impression that they viewed it as a friendly competition rather than a race whose outcome would decide Tuliyollal’s fate.

So he sought out alternatives. None of those frequenting Tuliyollal’s harborside would have more detailed knowledge of the Warrior of Light than Koana’s allies, so the Hhetsarro scholar did as he was wont to do and turned to books that covered recent history. A tough and oft expensive process, but gradually he built up a small trove of information wherein Koana might obtain a better sense of his opponent - the strengths he could lend Lamaty’i, and weaknesses Koana could exploit if necessary.

He was from Ul’dah, originally: a desert city in Eorzea and its heartland of thaumaturgy. From reports, Ifan was not merely that but also a practitioner of magics not seen since the Third Astral Era. Powerful, yes, but the narratives all emphasized his cleverness as what put him a cut above - the legend of the dragon prince, as Koana later learned, was a description of how Ifan had defeated Zenos yae Galvus in the skies over Ala Mhigo, putting all the arts he’d learned of Mhach, Amdapor, Nym, Allag, and even Sharlayan astrology to use in breaking past his human limits. He didn’t seem disposed towards technology, however, so Koana had that advantage. What troubled him moreso were the narratives of Ifan’s travels among people that Eorzeans called ‘beast tribes’, specifically the way in which the Warrior of Light seemed ill-disposed to heeding prejudice and prone to building bridges, like a sort of unofficial diplomat. That kind of talent was more dangerous than mere might, to Koana’s mind, as Lamaty’i lacked not for strength but rather for experience. Ifan, Krile, Alisaie, and Alphinaud could all provide that, and that made Lamaty’i a true contender.

So Koana read his books, and waited patiently, if apprehensively, to see his sister’s allies in the flesh.

The first thing that struck Koana was how ordinary Ifan looked, to the point it took him a good minute to realize the figure standing next to Lamaty’i was in fact the fabled Warrior of Light - and then only by process of elimination, as the ordinary man of five fulm eight with ash brown hair and clear preference for white clothing didn’t strike Koana as some sort of living myth. His bearing seemed quite lazy, actually, as if he were on holiday and not partaking in a contest to decide the ruler of Tuliyollal. To Koana, this suggested that he’d either dealt with things of such a serious nature that this seemed trifling by comparison, or that Ifan was just a thoroughly unserious person. And the impression that he got when meeting him up close was quite in favor of the latter.

Ifan was a silly man. He always had a smile, or smirk, or grin upon his face, and even from a distance it seemed he barely went a minute without teasing someone or suggesting they do something fun. Naturally, Lamaty’i was quite enamored of him: nor was he a help to her, as he seemed to encourage her to run around and waste time doing foolish things whenever he wasn’t doing something foolish of his own, like somehow managing to jump atop the palace just to get a decent view and then showing off to Lamaty’i by landing on his feet unharmed, much to her impressed amazement. And while Koana privately admitted that he found the deed somewhat impressive, the Second Promise was far less impressed by the Warrior of Light’s disinclination to use whatever legendary talents he kept up his sleeve to actually solve a problem, as he’d observed in Kozama’uka.

When presented with a challenge to resolve the Hanu’s failing crop of reeds, Koana had quite quickly identified the problem as being one of stagnant aether and had turned to alchemy to fix it. He’d worked quickly, and he’d had to - Ifan knew white magic, he had read, and it should be no difficulty for a master of such arts to simply wish the fields back to fuller health than they had ever been. While not ‘cheating’, it did seem unfair to Koana… or it would have, if Ifan had used any of his magic. But instead he’d gone along with Lamaty’i’s idea of conducting an archaic harvest festival to lift the Hanu’s spirits, and by sheer luck said rite had partially restored the fields to health in a very inefficient manner. Hardly a display of godlike magecraft, and Koana was prepared to write him off at seeing how feeble the results were in contrast to the rudimentary formula that Koana had concocted. 

Then he’d turned around to see the look that Ifan gave him after he’d performed his feat of alchemy. Every bit of silliness had vanished: his face was set into a softened frown, and his eyes were fixed on Koana in quiet suspicion. That prior laziness within his bearing was still there, but had shifted into something languid that reminded Koana of a jaguar sprawled on a rock as it debated if the thing before it was worth killing. The Hhetsarro had felt the hair upon his ears and tail bristle slightly at the sheer intensity in Ifan’s gaze… and then it was just gone. He blinked, then smiled his silly smile, and looked around as if he were about to ask if anyone would like to get something for lunch. 

Koana had recounted this strange and somewhat frightening episode to Urianger and Thancred, and they’d just chuckled and agreed that Ifan could be scary on occasion, before Thancred joked that Ifan had a mean right hook for a spellcaster. None of which did anything for Koana’s nerves. Nonetheless, for whatever reason they decided then that they’d reveal that they were helping him when next they met with Lamaty’i and those that followed her.

The reaction was far different from what he’d expected. Once more, it seemed the foreigners were treating the affair as more a friendly contest, and none seemed obviously aggrieved by the division. Alisaie and Thancred had bantered, and Ifan appeared more pleased to see both he and Urianger than he was annoyed that they were helping Koana. He’d also looked over the Second Promise once again, and even if he still seemed suspicious it now seemed also he was satisfied to some degree. Perhaps that was the reason Urianger and Thancred had revealed themselves - reassuring Ifan that Koana had good counsel. If it was, it was apparently enough.

For all Ifan’s silliness, however, he hadn’t hesitated for a moment when doing what he needed to when Lamaty’i was kidnapped. Though he’d glared silently at Koana when the latter had quite hastily implied he’d failed to keep an eye on her, he hadn’t said a word of protest when he was asked to accompany the Second Promise on the search. Whatever thoughts he had on Koana, his priority concern was Lamaty’i’s wellbeing: and that was something Koana could respect, as it was something he well understood himself.

His respect grew to appreciation as Ifan put his talents to full use in expediting matters.  Koana watched with fascination and concern at how skillfully the magician trailed their mark, somehow managing to simply step between discrete locations where he could observe the suspect while giving Koana a trail to follow at a longer distance. He’d leapt up into a tree with frightening speed when the suspect doubled back to see if he was followed, not noticing the Warrior of Light nor Koana. Thanks to him, they were able to confirm the suspect was indeed the culprit.

Ifan seemed to be impressed by Koana’s plan to bait the bandits out by posing as a merchant, too. To get them to their destination at Many Fires more rapidly, he’d performed a tandem teleport that Koana admitted was impressive in its deftness - even if he tried to avoid thinking about Ifan’s arm around his waist while it was going on. Then he’d played his role to sheer perfection in convincing folk that Koana was indeed a well-stocked merchant with a valuable supply of jewels, though it had made his eyebrow rise to hear himself referred to as ‘that handsome Hhetsarro’. And when it came time for the dangerous part, he hadn’t let Koana down.

The risk that Ifan might try and take advantage of the situation to knock Koana out of the running was one he had considered. He didn’t need to die for Ifan to accomplish it, either - if he learned where Lamaty’i was, he could go and rescue her himself and leave Koana to that fate instead. And there were several times as Koana made his way along the road to Earthenshire where he feared that outcome: Ifan was well hidden, assuming that he’d even followed, and Koana’s concealed sidearm could only do so much. That fear had peaked when the bandits had revealed themselves, and for a terrifying few moments Koana worried Ifan had abandoned him… And then he’d felt an irrepressible surge of joy as Ifan came to his rescue, even if it was what Koana planned. Ifan even winked at him as if apologizing for being cause for worry, and he felt his cheeks begin to prickle even if he wasn’t quite sure why.

Koana knew then his opinion was in need of serious revision. Silly he might be, but not unserious. All that needed to be said, it seemed, was all that Urianger and Thancred had told him: a good and kindly man, and every bit the hero that the stories said.

Perhaps that’s why Koana let his judgment lapse around him.

The trail had led them to the river, where agents of Bakool Ja had disabled any easy means they might pursue Lamatyi’s kidnappers. Though Thancred had gone on ahead, Koana didn’t have the skill in wildcraft or subterfuge to follow. He’d needed to remain behind, uselessly, while his baby sister was held captive by a violent brute. He could feel a migraine start to claw up from his neck and through his skull until it pinched behind his eyes, making thinking difficult. His judgment was impaired. 

So he’d let his feelings show.

He’d cried out in anger and told Ifan he was frustrated. And before he knew what he was saying, he’d told him of the reason that it hurt so much, why tradition didn’t matter… Because Koana’s clan left him behind. A mere infant, left behind as was occasionally the case with those that lived nomadic lives and could not support too many children. That he lived at all was due to kindness on Gulool Ja’s part. He couldn’t leave Lamaty’i behind for anything, not even being Dawnservant.

Then he caught himself. Koana set his jaw and jammed the feelings back where they belonged as he apologized to Ifan before giving him a chance to answer. Then the Second Promise had suggested they return to Many Fires to wait for Urianger and the others, to which Ifan had agreed with a quiet nod.

They now proceeded on the path between the dock and Many Fires, Koana’s gaze set dead ahead as he tried to fill his mind with something else, and failed.

“Koana.”

The Second Promise glanced at Ifan as his name was uttered. The magician wasn’t looking at him, his expression hesitant but still resolved.

“Hm?” hummed the Hhetsarro, one ear lifting with the query.

There was a pause, and a brief flicker of some strange emotion on the Hyur’s face. “Is it alright if I tell you something personal?” he asked, at length. His tone seemed strained.

Koana’s eyebrow rose at this, but he nodded nonetheless. “Of course. You need not fear you can’t speak freely to me.” he stated as he gave the other man a gracious bowing of his head.

Ifan glanced over at Koana for a moment. “I appreciate that.” he thanked, giving the Hhetsarro a small smile before he looked away again. It was a little while before he spoke again, and when he did his tone was strangely similar to that Koana used down by the docks. “My parents left me behind, too. Not on the road, like you, but your frustration is something I can understand. It feels the same way whenever my friends are in danger.” he stated. Then he sighed, and looked at Koana with a reassuring smile.  “You don’t need to feel like you’ve acted inappropriately. You’re doing the right thing.” he added with a nod.

The Second Promise blinked, and he felt his lips part slightly in surprise. His ears fell flat. “I-” he started, but his words failed him, and he looked away. 

That was something that he hadn’t read, and Koana knew that it was probably not common knowledge: something Ifan shared with him, to be vulnerable along with him. Koana felt his headache start to throb in protest as he wracked his brain for some response. “...I know not what to say, beyond offering my thanks.” he answered, giving a wince at both his migraine and his answer’s clumsiness.

The Warrior of Light looked over at Koana, frowning slightly as he watched the Second Promise wince. “Something the matter?” he asked, head tilting slightly.

Koana reached up to remove his glasses momentarily so he could rub his eyes. He shook his head. “A small headache. My neck is often bothersome.” he explained with a faint, defeated smile. ‘Often’ was an understatement: Koana struggled with stiff muscles in his neck and spine near constantly. He had a salve of his concoction that he used to ease it when he got the time to actually apply it and relax, but such occasions were a rarity of late.

Ifan looked Koana up and down, then nodded. “I’ll take a look at it while we wait for the others. Let’s find a seat.” he said matter-of-factly as he gestured up ahead at Many Fires.  

There was a pause as Koana’s ears flicked once, as if he hadn’t heard Ifan correctly. Then his eyes widened, and he stared at Ifan with incredulity. “Take a look at it? That isn’t-” he began.

“No arguments.” interrupted Ifan, giving Koana a sidelong glance and pointed smile. “We need you in good shape when we rescue Wuk Lamat.” he stated.

Koana felt his lips purse as he realized he’d been backed into a corner. “...I have no rebuttal. Very well.” he agreed, though no sooner had he said it than he began to wonder what ‘take a look at it’ entailed.

He wasn’t wondering for long. Ifan led them to a table out of public view, and bade Koana sit and undo his collar. Then he stood behind him, and Koana felt his ears shoot up as Ifan’s hands went to his to his neck and started kneading. 

What started as a stranger’s touch soon turned quite soothing. Koana couldn’t help but note how gentle Ifan’s fingers were as they felt along his neck and head to work out where the problems were; gentle, but still strong, as evidenced when Ifan’s fingers started working to undo the knots in the Hhetsarro’s muscles. It was uncomfortable, but of the kind of a tight knot being pulled apart with perseverance - before long, Koana felt his migraine start to ease. His eyes were slightly glazed as he started right ahead, lips parted in a contented little smile while both his ears and tail flicked whenever Ifan found a stubborn spot and worked the tension out. He couldn’t help but grunt and wince at Ifan’s thumbs along his upper spine and neck, to say nothing of their working right below and under both his ears in that particular spot that made Hhetsarro melt.

Before Koana realized it, a very happy purr escaped his chest.

Ifan paused for just a second, then he chuckled. “Someone’s enjoying themselves.” he observed.

Koana blinked, then sat up straight as both his ears shot up. “F-forgive me, I-” he stammered, tail curling in embarrassment. 

One of Ifan’s hands left Koana’s neck, going to his shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze. “I tease. My partner back in Sharlayan is of your folk, I’m familiar with the habits. Thank you for the compliment.” he said. Then he returned the hand to Koana’s neck, resuming the massage.

Koana’s face was flushed and burning, but he felt a little better for the reassurance. He swallowed and nodded. “...You have exceptional skill, I’ll admit.” he complimented with a breathy laugh. Then paused and hummed as he gave more consideration to what Ifan said. “Your partner is Hhetsarro? What are they like, if you do not mind my curiosity?” he asked. 

Ifan smiled. “Not at all. You might know of him, considering he was at the Studium at roughly the same time. G’raha Tia is his name.” he answered, fingers sliding to beneath Koana’s jaw and working up around the skull towards his ears. 

The name struck Koana as familiar, but not from personal acquaintance. He hummed again, then blinked in realization. “You do not mean the same G’raha Tia as the author of The Decline and Fall of the Allagan Empire ?” he asked, his tone a little disbelieving. “I must have read that thesis back to back a hundred times!” the Second Promise all but exclaimed, glancing up and back at Ifan’s face.

“Fan of him, are you?” asked the Hyur with a teasing grin.

Koana felt his face prickle, and he turned his head back forward and cleared his throat. “His work was most thought-provoking, though I have not had the honor of a personal meeting.” he replied.

Ifan snickered. “I’d be happy to introduce you, if everything works out.” he offered. “My own area of expertise is the Fifth Astral Era, so I think he’ll appreciate having another person to chat about aetherochemistry with. And if you ever get interested in more magical subjects, I’d be happy to teach you a few things myself.” he added airily.

Koana didn’t answer right away. He wondered why the offer had been made… and then he realized that him wondering was the point. Ifan was distracting him from Lamaty’i being missing, and that was helping just as much with his migraine as the magician’s hands. Koana felt his face begin to soften as he smiled in gratitude. “You are far too kind. Thancred and Urianger told no falsehoods when they spoke of your generosity.” he said, quietly.

“They’re very sweet, and you seem pretty kind yourself.” replied Ifan with a little chuckle. Then he hummed and gave a nod. “Tell you what. How about… Here on out, we call this a friendly competition? It’ll be easier to watch out for Wuk Lamat while she finds her feet, if we’re watching each others’ backs too.” he suggested, pausing in his kneading so Koana could consider it.

The Second Promise thought about it. It could easily be a strategy to get him to lower his guard, but somehow Koana knew Ifan was being genuine. He remembered that feeling of elation at seeing the Warrior of Light appear right as he needed him, to say nothing of how awful this affair would be if Ifan and his friends were not here to help Koana rescue Lamaty’i… The answer was quite obvious. Koana nodded. “I would like that, champion.” he agreed.

Ifan smiled rather warmly before picking up where he left off. “You can just call me ‘Ifan’, my lord prince.” he stated, his tone slightly smug.

Koana’s smile settled into a chastened and somewhat embarrassed look. “...I am hardly such a thing.” he muttered.

“Would ‘beloved and most radiant Second Promise’ be more appropriate?” hummed Ifan, indulgently.

The Second Promise felt his cheeks burn as his lips twisted, ears splayed flat out to the sides. “...I suppose the alternative is fine, if such is the price for your silence.” he consented, at length.

Ifan paused his kneading to lean down and grin at Koana from over his shoulder. “I should thank the pelu pelu for getting you all so habituated to haggling.” he teased, giving the Hhetsarro another wink.

Koana pursed his lips, but mostly to just hide the smile he felt upon his face seeing Ifan grin at him. Then an amused huff escaped his nose, and he let his smile show through. “Your efforts to keep my mind off Lamaty’i are noticed, Ifan. I’m extremely grateful.” he thanked.

Ifan’s grin settled into a sympathetic smile. “I know what going through life with a hot head feels like, and I wouldn’t want you doing anything you’d regret. The same thing applies to your sister.” he said, giving Koana another reassuring squeeze upon the shoulder.

Despite the circumstances, Koana felt much better. His neck wasn’t as sore, his headache was near gone, and even though Lamaty’i was still missing… He had people he could count on. “She is in good hands.” he said.

“As are you. Thancred and Urianger won’t let you down, I can promise you that.” Ifan replied, tone quiet and reassuring.

Koana frowned a little. “Strange to hear you say such. One might think you uncertain of the outcome.” he observed.

There was a pause. Then Ifan hummed. “I am.” he admitted.

The Second Promise blinked, and turned his head to look up towards Ifan once again. “You do not believe my sister will succeed?” he asked, his disbelief apparent at the notion Ifan would say such a thing at all, much less to Lamaty’i’s rival.

Ifan smirked. “Bold question.” he answered, pointedly.

Koana blinked in realization, then nodded. “You are correct, forgive me.” he apologized, as he looked ahead again.

“You’re all right.” snickered the mage. Then he took some time to choose his words, continuing to knead Koana’s neck. “My meaning is less a prediction as to who will win, and more an observation that you seem to be a decent man who deserves the benefit of the doubt. When I say Thancred and Urianger won’t let you down, what I mean is that if you do end up succeeding then you don’t need to fear that you won’t be ready for the job - they’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you can be the ruler Tural deserves. They clearly feel you have the makings of a good leader, and after what I’ve seen today… I agree with them, even if I have my own chocobo in the race.” His hands left Koana’s neck as his words faded, and the Warrior of Light gave him a friendly pat between the shoulderblades to let him know that he could do his collar up again.

Koana made no move to do so, nor even replied: he had no words. He wasn’t even sure how he should feel. Ifan should be telling him that Lamaty’i was quite clearly the next Dawnservant and that Koana would fail miserably, not giving him a boost of confidence and helping with his headache. He tried to think of anything to say… and couldn’t. He’d likely need more time.

Ifan didn’t seem to take offense at Koana’s lack of answer. Instead he reached around and redid his collar for him, and gave him silent space to think. Only when he spied some figures on the road approaching Many Fires did he speak again. “Ah, there they are.” he stated, walking forward and glancing back to Koana with a smile.  “Let’s see what we can do about getting this mess fixed.” he added.

Koana’s eyes met Ifan’s. Then he nodded. “Indeed.” He reached up to make sure that his collar was done properly, and stood once he was satisfied with the results. Then Koana paused again, and offered him a smile. “...Thank you, Ifan. I mean it.” he managed as his ears and tail flicked once.

Ifan smiled back warmly, then gave a teasing grin. “Anytime, my lord prince.” he snickered. Then he stuck his tongue out at Koana from between his teeth and turned to head towards where Urianger and the others were approaching.

The Second Promise flushed deeply and gave the Warrior of Light another flattened frown, though the magician’s back was now turned. It was difficult to stay indignant, though, given that Koana’s headache was now eased. To think he needed a massage and nothing more complex than that. It was silly.

Normally, Koana had no time for silly things. But for this very silly man, the Second Promise was debating an exception.

[astrology-bf]

En Plein Air

(CW: Major Dawntrail Spoilers, Heirloom WoLGraha Fluff)

Dusk was slowly settling over the arid brushland of Shaaloani, Azeyma’s light now feeble and obscured behind the rugged cliffs towards the region’s east. The stars were slowly gleaming into view, both their light and Menphina’s sliver of a waxing crescent largely unobscured by clouds… at least those of a literal sort, for instead a figurative pall had settled on Tural.

The Dawnservant was dead, and by his son Zoraal Ja’s own hand no less. His other children, Wuk Lamat and Koana, had ascended to succeed him - but they were fresh, and now being thrown into the fire in a way that would have tested the most seasoned leaders of any nation. Nor did the Resilient Son lack allies, as a mysterious new party wielding unknown magic or technology had attacked Tuliyollal at Zoraal Ja’s behest. And then there was the dome of lightning aether that had sealed a region of Xak Tural off from the outside world, trapping its inhabitants including Wuk Lamat’s retired nursemaid and Erenville’s mother inside an impenetrable violet bubble.

It was the sort of trouble that was sadly all too common in the Warrior of Light’s experience. Even with no Hydaelyn to serve, it seemed to be his lot to find himself in circumstances of this kind, and certainly his nature to assist however easy it might be for him to stand aside. Then again, Emet-Selch had spoken of the Golden City of Tural - and he would not have done so if there weren’t a mystery of this magnitude wrapped up in it. Ifan made the choice to travel to Tural and render aid, much as he chose to be the Warrior of Light whose reputation had inspired Wuk Lamat to seek him out. It wasn’t something he regretted necessarily, but even the most steadfast of folk will on occasion have to dig within themselves to find the reason that made all the struggle worth it, such as Ifan was now doing. 

He now stood on the rocky rise on which Shaaloani Station had been built, towards its southern edge and gazing out towards the monumental bridge that spanned towards Tuliyollal. Ifan’s arms were crossed, and there was a pensive frown upon his face as he mulled over the recent past - the revelations, and the losses - and thought too of the future, of the plan that they now raced to put in place.

The modifications to the train that were being made so they could try and breach the dome had hit a point where Ifan’s help wasn’t required, however, and he’d been told (or threatened, namely by Alisaie) to go and rest. He was a little tired, but he was fine with tired as being busy meant he wouldn’t do as he now did: sink into a mire of unpleasant thoughts, when he needed to be sharp for Lamaty’i, Koana, and Erenville’s sakes.

Ifan was so focused on his thoughts that he failed to register the brush against his side and back. Only when his name was uttered did he blink and shake his head, before looking to his left and down to see a familiar red-haired Seeker smiling up at him with faint concern within his ruby gaze.

“Is aught amiss, dear heart?” asked G’raha Tia. He’d draped his arm around his lover’s waist, and his tail was curled around his thigh as was its wont in his proximity. 

The Hyur blinked again and let out a small breath as a dazed look crossed his face. Then he chuckled, and shook his head again. “‘Raha. Sorry, just thinking.” he apologized, turning towards G’raha to embrace him tightly.

G’raha hugged Ifan tightly, nose buried in the mage’s shirt for a few moments before he leaned up for a greeting kiss. He smiled again as their lips parted, ears quivering in happiness. “You are more than fine, my love. I should be the one apologizing for not coming to see you sooner.” replied G’raha.  

“Not as if we’ve had much of a chance to talk privately, everything considered.” said Ifan reassuringly as he returned the archon’s smile. “I’m just happy to have you here.” he added.

“And I you, Ifan. You’ve been missed terribly.” G’raha’s tail had tightened around Ifan’s thigh, and his hands were almost clenched in Ifan’s clothes as he shifted every now and then, when the urge to rub his scent all over Ifan got too much. 

Ifan grinned a little in relief. His misgivings had begun to ease a little when he’d first saw G’raha and Y’shtola had arrived to help, and that now only grew as G’raha held him. “I missed you too, ‘Raha. Do you have a bit of time?” he asked with a beseeching note that he proved unable to conceal.

G’raha nodded, still smiling. “I do. Things seem well in hand for the time being.” he stated with a gesture of one ear towards the station proper, where the majority of people were still gathered.

The magician gave a very relieved sigh, and nodded happily. “Want to get out of here and find somewhere quiet to catch up?” he suggested.

“Of course. Have you somewhere in mind?” asked G’raha as he gave Ifan a squeeze before releasing him.

Ifan shook his head, then turned to look around. Sheshenewezi Springs was a short distance away, but as he and Erenville found out the disruptions to train service meant Shaaloani’s inns were at a premium of space, and especially on short notice - nor was it particularly quiet, being a refinery town. At length, his eyes settled on the mesa to the west, where he could see a few rocky flats below the central rise that afforded a clear view while still being fairly sheltered.   

He hummed, then gave a nod. “Up for a walk and a spot of windriding, my lord?” he asked with a small smile.

G’raha grinned again. “A wonderful idea. By your lead, my champion.” he answered with a nod and a small flick of his ears.

Night had fully settled by the time they reached a ridge on the southwestern quarter of the mesa, having climbed a little before Ifan rode the wind to get them higher up. They had a fire crystal lantern with them for both light and heat, and G’raha wove a glamour to conceal their ersatz campsite from onlookers while Ifan laid out a padded blanket that he’d borrowed from the station. As they did, Ifan spoke a little more about his travels to fill in the blanks that he’d not had a chance to cover in his letters, or rare linkpearl call back home.  

The pair then lay together on the blanket, Ifan tucked within G’raha’s left arm while the fingers of his right hand were threaded within Ifan’s as they rested on his stomach. The temperature had dropped a little, but the weather was still pleasant with only a bare breeze across the mesa’s face.   

G’raha gave a little chuckle. “It does feel a little silly asking your conclusions regarding Tural, given current events. I hope you have enjoyed it, at the least.” he said, gaze shifting towards Ifan.

“I like it when you’re silly.” replied the Hyur with a smirk. Then it eased into a smile, though its cast was somewhat sad. “It hasn’t been a waste, I’ll tell you that. Wonderful land, wonderful people… If anything, current events wouldn’t be so troubling if I liked Tural less.” he finished as his smile began to fade. 

G’raha’s right ear laxed a little in concern. “You do seem slightly troubled, I confess.” he observed as he gave Ifan a gentle squeeze with his left arm.

Ifan returned a half-smile of his own, then nodded. “A bit, aye.” he admitted.

“I am here, dear heart, if you should wish to speak of it.” coaxed G’raha with a gentle look, right hand releasing Ifan’s so he could run his fingers through the magician’s short beard.

The Hyur let his eyes drift, head resting against G’raha’s shoulder as he let himself relax. “I keep thinking about how I felt in Ultima Thule, and worry that it might happen again.” he began, quietly. “Tuliyollal… It was like being back in Rhalgr’s Reach. Or Lakeland. Seeing Wuk Lamat almost ashamed for having hoped things might get better, like Lyna did. I still feel that urge to try and take that weight on myself.” Then he paused. He closed his eyes, swallowed, and shook his head against the archon’s chest. “I’m sorry.” he finished.

G’raha gave the other man a sympathetic smile. “You need not apologize, love. I’m hardly guiltless of similar feelings.” he answered with a little chuckle, smile growing at the answering look of cheer on Ifan’s face. “‘Tis alright to fear. Natural, even. What matters is that you have not let that fear sway your actions; you reached out, and for that I am immeasurably proud of you, Ifan.” he soothed. 

Ifan glanced up. He frowned a little with a vulnerable look within his eyes. “You and the others will stop me if I start getting bad, aye?” he asked, as his fingers tightened slightly against G’raha’s clothing.

The archon nodded firmly. He shifted Ifan, coaxing him to rest his weight atop him so that they could press their lips together easily - which he did, kissing him until he felt the Hyur’s fingers lax and his breaths deepen. Only when he was assured that his beloved’s fear was eased did he release him, giving him another gentle smile. “That seems to be more a question of if any of us are faster than Alisaie.” he said, quite pointedly, as he gave Ifan a little grin.

Ifan paused, then let out a mirthless laugh. “Fair point.” he answered, then chuckled himself and shook his head.

G’raha’s ears flicked happily at Ifan’s laugh. Then he gave a hum. “Though I daresay you may have found an even more concerned friend, from what I have seen of Wuk Lamat.” he added, pointing out the Vow of Resolve’s quite obvious protectiveness towards her friend and mentor.

“You aren’t wrong there. Reminds me of Lyse in all the best ways.” agreed Ifan as his chin came down to rest on G’raha’s sternum, eyes lovingly locked upwards on his face. 

Another chuckle left the archon’s chest, now realizing the similarity. “Indeed. She and the four of you seem to have become quite close on your journey. ‘Tis most endearing.” observed G’raha.

Ifan nodded. “I wasn’t sure what to think, initially. But she grew on me… The love for life, being so interested in other people and new things, willing to do something uncomfortable if it’s necessary. Friends like that don’t come around often, much less leaders.” he stated. Then his smile became more serious. “We have to make sure her and Koana get the chance they deserve.” added Ifan as his gaze shifted once more.

G’raha gave his beloved a firm squeeze. “We shall, dear heart. Is that not what we do as partners? Have adventures, build nations, and save worlds?” he asked, effecting a deliberately heroic bearing and pretentious tone.

The Hyur simply couldn’t hold on to ill-humor around G’raha. He snickered, then started laughing. “A most noble lord and his knight-enchanter.” he teased, shaking his head. When he settled, he gazed up at the Miqo’te with a look of pure appreciation. “What about you, love? How have things been in Sharlayan?” he asked.

“Less exciting than here, but Ojika’s steady hand is on the tiller.” answered G’raha with a little chuckle of his own. “That Krile endeavored to ensure everything was in place before your departure has been no small blessing.” he added with a thankful nod.

Ifan nodded in return, then gave a sigh. “I’m glad to hear that. I have been meaning to check in more frequently with the linkpearl, but-” he began, but was interrupted as G’raha gently placed his thumb across the Hyur’s lips to halt him.

“None of that, dear heart.” said G’raha with a loving hum, drawing Ifan up to kiss him briefly once again. “Your letters have been regular and detailed, and do not think me unaware of how difficult it must be finding willing bearers with aetheryte access. I have not once feared being absent in your mind. Merely other places.” he said, giving a little smirk and wiggle of his ears and eyebrows - using lewdness to suffice for humor when it came to easing his beloved’s mood.

Ifan snorted with a happy grin. “Dirty old man.” he teased.

G’raha merely gave a wider grin, his tail snaking up between the Hyur’s legs to curl up against his rear. “Yours, if I recall correctly.” he observed, braving a wink for the magician’s benefit.

“Aye, my dirty old man.” agreed Ifan, leaning up to bunt his forehead against G’raha’s before grinding it against his - not ceasing till he heard a purr from in his chest. 

The archon snickered at himself.  “I am a little reminded of Lake Silvertear, circumstances notwithstanding.” he hummed.

Ifan grinned down at him before he settled back, once more nesting against G’raha’s side and chest. “Does feel like that, doesn’t it? Camping out at night.” he agreed.

“Indeed. Though it also recalls our talk in Kholusia, as well.” said G’raha, remembering when Ifan found the Crystal Exarch sleeping on the cliffside overlooking Eulmore. 

“You do have a knack for lovely and profound conversations against a stunning backdrop, my lord. Ever the playwright.” said Ifan, giving his dear lord a teasing but still loving and appreciative smile.

G’raha simply shook his head as he returned the smile. “With such a fine muse and main act as you, my sweet magician, I daresay few would find themselves uninspired.” he said, as if such moments were simply the most natural thing a man could do for his beloved.

Ifan’s lips twisted as his cheeks turned very dark. “...’Raha.” he mumbled, near clinging to the archon.

The grin on G’raha’s face was truly wicked as he reveled in delight. “Coy and cool, yet all you need do is call him pretty and he turns as bashful as a boy. You are far too easy.” he observed as his hand began to wander teasingly.

Ifan looked up and gave a pout. “Don’t bully me.” he almost whined.

G’raha stuck his tongue out from between his teeth. “Come now, I have so much of it to make up for!” he proclaimed, his other hand now striking out towards the Hyur and tickling him without a hint of mercy.

The Warrior of Light began to laugh, twisting under G’raha’s hands and trying to squirm away. “‘Raha!” he protested through his wheezes, though in truth he was appreciative of the banality of being ‘tormented’ by his beloved lord.

G’raha eased off in short order, not wanting to push Ifan past the point of comfort. Tickling eased into a loving hug, and laughter quietened into soft hums and chuckles as they gazed into each others’ eyes.  

Ifan felt his cheeks begin to ache from how much he was smiling, but he couldn’t stop himself. “...Thank you for coming to rescue me, my lord.” he said at length, reaching up to knead one pointed ear between his thumb and finger.

“Of course, my champion. I will always find a way to you whenever you are in distress.” answered G’raha firmly as he leaned towards his lover’s hand, nuzzling his head against the palm. Then he pulled the Hyur up again to kiss him, once more prolonging it until he was near certain his beloved felt better.

Their lips parted, and Ifan hummed happily.  “When this is over, you and I have to take a good few days to just enjoy ourselves here.” he suggested. Then he closed his eyes, resting his head on G’raha’s torso once again. “A proper holiday.” he added.

“A fine idea, my love.” replied G’raha as he combed his fingers through Ifan’s hair. Then he closed his eyes in turn, and settled back. His ears laxed, twitching on occasion in response to the odd noise that drifted upwards from the plains, while his tail remained curled around his partner’s leg. “Trivial a pain as it may be, being denied Turali food is a great cruelty.” he joked.

Ifan chuckled. Then he paused, and laughed at the reminder of a certain trial. “I knew I was forgetting something.” he began, nodding against G’raha’s chest. “You’ll like this: the Feat of Repast. Let me tell you about xibruq pibil…”

[astrology-bf]

Hero's Lantern

(CW: Endwalker Spoilers)

‘Home’ means many things depending on the person that you ask. To some, home is their home country: Jullus pyr Norbanus never once ceased calling Garlemald his home regardless of how difficult it had become to live in it, and Lyse Hext felt the same with Ala Mhigo despite having lived most of her life in foreign lands. For those of a more itinerant bent, home might be wherever you can simply rest: adventurers like Ardbert or nomads like Estinien take a view wherein the whole world is one village, and ‘home’ is a broad patchwork of inns and alehouses where toil and misery are put temporarily aside.

The Warrior of Light was such a person. Gydeo Abbey, where he spent his youth and where the closest folk he had to parents dwelt, was not a home as much as a fond place to visit. He had his dwelling in Ul’dah, near Emerald Avenue, but in truth the housekeeper he paid had got more use from it than Ifan ever had. ‘Home’, to him, was wherever he could take his ease. Sometimes that was a place, but in most cases it was people: people like the former Scions of the Seventh Dawn, and in particular the man with whom he was in love.

That man, G’raha Tia, and now walked along the road between Noumenon and the center of Sharlayan alongside Ifan. It was now evening, Azeyma having sunk beneath the western sky, and they had just returned from meeting up with Alphinaud and Alisaie within the storied archive to discuss events of late, particularly the presence and request of their new acquaintance, Wuk Lamat, who had ventured to the Scholar’s city from the far off western continent of Tural.

Though Ketenramm the Blue had long since reached Tural, then called simply ‘the New World’, it remained quite enigmatic to the folk of the Three Continents. The waters of Indigo Deep were treacherous even in summer, and the constant state of war with both the beast tribes and then Garlemald precluded much attention (or investment) in exploring further west despite the tales of riches beyond counting. That had been changing, as the attempted exploitation of the Whalaqee which Ifan and Martyn had thwarted well attested, and now it seemed as though the growing interest was becoming mutual: Wuk Lamat had ventured from the capital of Tulliyolal to ask for aid in a contest for succession, specifically Ifan’s. 

Ifan was delighted by her personality. She was vivacious, and he had immense respect for any woman that could polish off a plate as vigorously as she did (see: Lyse Hext). And though Wuk Lamat was obviously fresh in battle, as attested by her badly-concealed fright during their impromptu hunt upon the Isle of Hamm, she could clearly hold her own and had a good head on her shoulders. A fine warrior, and a fine prospective friend.

But a fine ruler? That was another question, and a sort of question that Ifan was not much interested in answering.

Ifan hated politics, and with good reason. The Bloody Banquet. The many ills in Ishgard. The struggle over Ala Mhigo. And last but not least, Doma: where Ifan had to put aside the feelings of his heart, lest Doma come into possession of a man of mass destruction. Though he and Hien were still close, close to the point that he and G’raha were now slightly more than friends themselves, there would always be that distance by virtue of the Lord of Doma’s office. Perhaps one day that country would be prepared to stand without a monarch, but much as Yugiri said upon the Steppe - much like Ifan, Doma’s desire was for Lord Kaien’s son. And for both Hien and Ifan, the people of that land came first. 

The Warrior of Light had not made his misgivings about politics known to Wuk Lamat in either his expression or his words, however, and had instead listened with quiet interest as she explained the process: a contest for succession between her and her adopted siblings for the throne of Tulliyolal, where she would need to prove her worth by leading - leading her allies of her choice, like Ifan. ‘Allies’, but there was a distinct whiff of ‘retainer’ given it involved no real gain for Ifan save whatever nonspecific favor having her in a high place might lead to down the line. And there was the simple matter that, to Ifan’s mind, Tural’s succession was the business of its people and not foreigners trying to ‘civilize' them.

For all those reasons not to go, however, Ifan was still uncertain.

So he did what any person feeling ill at ease would do: went home. It was fortunate that all that took was turning to his right and talking to the archon at his side, which he now did.

G’raha seemed to share Ifan’s discomfort, a faint frown on his noble brow. “Despite all that we’ve learned, I cannot help but feel we have yet to hear the whole story.” he mused. Then the archon pursed his lips for just a moment, and glanced at Ifan before smiling. “What about you, dear heart? Are you inclined to accept or refuse Wuk Lamat’s request?” he asked, though the faintly amused twitching of his ears well indicated he had an answer in his head.

Ifan smirked back at his lover. He reached over to run his thumb and index finger along one pointed ear, smirk easing to a loving smile as he watched G’raha’s tail curl in delight at the sensation. “You know me. I’d rather not get involved in politics.” he answered.

The Miqo’te chuckled once, then nodded wryly. “If only others had the same good sense.” agreed the archon. 

The pair came to the bridge between Tranquility and the Baldesion Annex, but rather than continue on they paused to take the view. Menphina was a slender waxing crescent, and her young light was dim enough that even Sharlayan’s city lights were insufficient to occlude the stars. A gorgeous evening overlooking Scholar’s Harbor, where Thaliak stood proudly as he’d done since he’d been built in centuries past. Gorgeous, but ordinary: the Ragnarok was now in Labyrinthos once again, the many people who’d joined forces to see that mighty vessel to completion now long since dispersed. And though both moon and sea of stars were present, even G’raha and Ifan who had stood upon both Mare Lamentorum and then Ultima Thule had difficulty seeing them as anything but backdrop, as they’d known them nearly their entire lives. For all the portentousness of fate that marked both men’s lives, they seemed much as any loving couple did: talking of affairs while on a walk back to their house.

Ifan hummed, leaning against the railing of the bridge as he looked out towards the sea and where the constellation of the Arrow hung. “That said… I do have some concerns.” he said, at length.

G’raha smiled at him. He slid close, hip to hip so he could curl his tail around one of Ifan’s thighs. He always did it, even without thinking, on some level remembering all those times he’d had the Hyur pulled away. “I am always happy to listen, my love.” he replied with a warm smile.

The magician gave a soft wink in return, then leaned down to bunt his head on G’raha’s thankfully before he leaned forward on the railing. He shimmied closer so that the other man could drape an arm around him. “This brother of hers. Koana, I believe his name was.” he began, at length.

G’raha’s expression settled. He nodded. “The sibling who studied in Sharlayan, if I recall?” The Miqo’te gave the other man a squeeze around the waist, tail flexing now and then around his thigh.

Ifan frowned for just a moment as he hummed in affirmation. “She mentioned how interested he was in technology.” he elaborated, slowly.

The archon’s ear twitched as his gaze shifted forward. He digested Ifan’s implication in thoughtful quiet for a short while, then nodded again in understanding. “You fear the rise of a new Garlemald.” he observed, tone indicating that he found the notion more than reasonable.

Ifan nodded in return. “Allag, too. I haven’t forgotten why you sealed the Tower, ‘Raha, and why you still keep it sealed. After everything we’ve been through, I can’t in good conscience stand by if there’s a risk of that being repeated.” he stated, expression rather stern.

G’raha’s own expression mirrored that of his lover. He was the expert on Allag, in many ways, and was intimately familiar with its many, many sins. The archon grimaced, then looked back at Ifan reassuringly. “Understandably so, dear heart. You seem inclined to go, if only to take his measure.” he observed again, using his arm to nudge the Hyur towards him and encourage him to put his weight on G’raha.

Ifan obliged, knowing the Miqo’te was quite strong enough to carry him without sweating. He hummed again, then gave a noncommittal sigh. “It could be nothing. Plenty of people are interested in technology, but it becomes suspicious when they’re also interested in power.” he disclaimed, looking back to meet his lover’s eyes. 

G’raha’s ears fell slightly as he saw Ifan’s expression. Skepticism, sheepishness, but also… “Forgive me, Ifan, but you seem… strained.” he said gently, giving his beloved a reassuring squeeze of both his arm and tail. 

The magician let out a mirthless huff and nodded. “Just remembering Yotsuyu.” he stated.

G’raha blinked, his head tilting slightly in confusion at the mention of the now-dead Witch of Doma. “For what reason?” he asked.

Ifan took in a breath, then smiled wanly down at G’raha. Difficult to talk about, but easier - Ultima Thule, and the weight that he’d cut out there at the near cost of his life, had helped greatly. “I promised her I’d kill Hien if he didn’t make Doma better.” he began, tone thoughtful. “But I think she didn’t just mean him, specifically… Looking back, she might have been trying to tell me not to let politics or sentiment get in the way of doing the right thing. There may no longer be a Hydaelyn in need of a champion, but… Everything I’ve learned and earned along that path, I have a responsibility to use that to do good. Like making sure Tural and the rest of Etheirys greet one another in a friendly spirit.” He frowned, but it was less a frown of irritation and more one of resolution. 

The former Crystal Exarch didn’t answer right away, listening patiently before giving Ifan’s words careful consideration. That was simply his beloved champion’s nature: much like G’raha, Hydaelyn had chosen him because of it. A love for everything within creation, and for making people happy. So much so, that he forgot creation also included him. So G’raha smiled, leaned up to press a gentle kiss to Ifan’s neck, nuzzled it with a faint purr within his muscled chest, and then relaxed and gazed at him again. “I would not think any less of you if you declined responsibility for once, dear heart. You have more than earned the right to focus on yourself.” he stated, with clear and gentle firmness.

Ifan’s frown had vanished at the contact, his face a cast of loving warmth. “On us, you mean.” he countered, with equal firmness.

G’raha chuckled softly with a nod, but then gave his beloved a look of soft resolve. “I do, but… yourself, as well. That includes if your focus takes you to Tural, my mighty champion.” he reassured.

A deep and resigned sigh left Ifan’s chest as he gave G’raha a slow nod in answer, gazing over at the statue of the Scholar. Then he glanced at G’raha with a hum. “You aren’t going, then?” he asked, obviously suspecting such a possibility.

The archon nodded with an obviously disappointed smile, ears flattening and tail tightening where it remained on Ifan’s leg. Nonetheless, his tone was certain. “Krile has worked tirelessly to put the Students back on their feet after what happened at the Isle of Val, yet the task remains unfinished. I would not wish to deny her closure regarding her grandfather, however happy I would be adventuring by your side.” he explained.

Ifan reached up to drape an arm across his beloved’s shoulders, pulling him close and pressing a firm kiss to one laxed ear, making its twin flutter happily. “Aye, and I’ve been wanting to go on a proper adventure with her, too. We’ll always have linkpearls, and I’m sure there’s aetherytes.” he mused, smiling down at G’raha with equal disappointment. 

G’raha’s lips pursed briefly, and he smiled sadly. “I will miss you, dear heart. Extremely so.” he said, softly. Arm hugging Ifan tightly, trying to memorize his texture. 

“Likewise, my lord. Your mighty champion will be thinking of you every day.” replied the Hyur, his other hand going to G’raha’s so he could thread his fingers with the archon’s. 

After a short while, G’raha’s smile became more reassuring. Then he huffed, and chuckled at himself. “He needn’t be too grieved. Once matters are in hand in Sharlayan, I am certain my restraint will lapse.” he admitted, giving the magician an extremely sheepish grin.

Ifan couldn’t help but grin back in return, squeezing and rocking his beloved with his arm. “Chasing me all the way across the sea just for a lay. My dirty old man.” he teased, lovingly.

G’raha stuck his tongue out from in between his teeth and gave Ifan a wink, too happy to be bashful or indignant. “Naturally. A lord will be most eager to sample the fruits his champion collects for him on expedition to a far off land.” he agreed, tail sliding up between the Hyur’s legs for just a moment as he teased in turn. His ear flicked happily, and he gave the other man a slight wiggle of his head as well.

Ifan simply had to laugh, all disappointment vanished by his love’s good humor. He smirked down teasingly. “And the food, I’m assuming.” he countered.

G’raha tried his best to give a regal, sagely nod. “That as well.” he replied, though he quickly broke down into chortling as the pair let out their tension. Laughter eased into a long and tender kiss, Ifan’s head craned down so G’raha didn’t have to strain too much by reaching, while the Miqo’te’s hand rubbed over Ifan’s back in slow and soothing circles, occasionally gripping when the kiss became a little heated. 

Ifan smiled at G’raha, cheeks a ruddy bronze and forehead resting on the archon’s, looking much less troubled than he had a few mere moments prior.

The archon’s face was set in much the same expression, arms around his lover’s waist as Ifan’s draped around his shoulders. He hummed, ears splayed in contentment and his tail not having once left where it clung to Ifan’s thigh. “At the end of everything, it remains an exciting journey to a faraway continent. Such a journey would be the envy of many a scholar. And if you go to Tural, and are not moved to help Wuk Lamat…” he began, slowly.

Ifan nodded against G’raha’s head. “Quietly take my leave, and come back home.” he finished with a quiet and content hum.

G’raha nodded in return, smile widening and warming. “A home which will be waiting eagerly for you, dear heart, with open arms. Assuming he does not find you before then.” he promised.

The magician had to swallow, smile settling because he was too happy to express it. “I love you, ‘Raha. My noble lord.” That G’raha had found the title shameful seemed so funny, now, as the archon was every bit a real king to him. Less a figure of authority, and more one of steady comfort and aspiration.

G’raha blinked back a little moisture he felt forming in his eyes, his face matching his beloved champion’s: a title that he once deemed disrespectful, but was true in how he felt about him. Someone he relied on for protection, provided for with all his heart and soul, and rode away into the sunset with - at least into into the fairy tale’s next chapter, as no fantasy is ever truly final. “And I you, Ifan. My mighty champion. Even should an ocean come between us.” he replied, fingers curled in Ifan’s clothes as Ifan’s curled in his.

They gazed at one another silently. Rocking slowly, the only noises being the waters underneath the bridge and the quiet hum of activity from the Agora further down the road. A quiet and ordinary evening in Sharlayan, giving not a hint of what had happened in the past, nor any hint of what yet lay ahead. 

Ifan straightened up and sighed, then nodded.  “Tural, then?” he hummed, smiling down at G’raha.

G’raha’s ears flicked happily as he straightened up in turn. He gave Ifan a squeeze, then both his arms and tail left the Hyur as he offered Ifan his hand instead - offering to lead the way towards the Annex, where they’d make their final plan. The archon nodded with a happy, loving smile, and answered with clear confidence. “Aye, dear heart. Tural.”