#tion when nasir brings up mari: excuse me im your number 1 stop this

[nasirofmanderlys]

✯

the fire crackled low, casting faint, flickering shadows over the room as nasir leaned back, swirling the amber liquid in his goblet absentmindedly. his gaze flicked to tion, who sat across from him, that familiar mix of steady confidence and quiet care etched into his features. nasir knew tion meant well, his words chosen with the kind of precision that came from years of understanding the weight they carried. still, they struck sharp against nasir's thoughts, the truths in them both comforting and damning.

"issue is, i don't see it as restraint," nasir began, his voice low but firm, his dark eyes meeting tion’s in the dim light. "it isn’t restraint, not truly. restraint would have been stopping myself that night, knowing full well the consequences. but this—this silence, this... distance—it doesn’t feel like strength. it feels like failure. like cowardice."

his voice softened, but the bitterness lingered. "i’ve told myself it’s for his sake, that my absence spares him from scandal, from whispers of illegitimacy. but tell me, tion, how does a boy grow into a man without knowing where he comes from? without a father to guide him?" nasir’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his gaze drawn to the dying fire. "i’ve always thought a man is defined not by his words but by his deeds. and a father..." he paused, his throat tightening. he thought of his own father.

"a father is meant to be there, no matter the storm, no matter the burden. i've always said that, that boys need their father. yet here i am, leaving that boy to grow under another’s roof because i lacked the courage to claim him. because i thought i could outrun the shame."

nasir sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. the weight of his thoughts felt heavier than ever in the stillness of the room. "you’ve done right by him, tion. you’ve given him a home, stability, all the things i should have. and for that, i owe you more than i can ever repay. but don’t mistake my gratitude for absolution. this isn’t something i can make peace with, not yet." and the man's face couldn't help but laugh slightly now as he accepted the refill of the drink, indicating his glass toward his tion himself. "and amir keeps thinking he's yours." he took a sip of his drink, letting the burn settle his frayed nerves before continuing. he didn't speak more on mariela egen.

"as for marriage..." nasir let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "bringing a woman into this mess would be cruel. how could i ask someone to stand beside me when i’m not even sure i’ve got my feet under me? no, not until house manderly is secure, not until i’ve put the pieces in place to ensure the north can’t afford to overlook us any longer. then, perhaps. but not now." his gaze returned to tion, and for a moment, the stern façade cracked, revealing a flicker of vulnerability that only ever showed with tion peake. "i’ll make it right one day, for the boy. for the family i’ve failed so far. but until then... well, i’ll keep trying to be the man i should have been all along."

"what's your excuse? it's not like there aren't enough white women in the south." the words, said in nasir's typically serious, quiet voice, was enough to cause a crack of a grin that cross his features.

the fire flickered, it's light beginning to burn low, and tion continued to study nasir in the dying light. "i am not calling you a coward, nasir," he said, far more gently than when he had spoke before. "you are judging yourself far too harshly. it might choke you, but your restraint is saving that boy from a lot of turmoil." he did not know if it mattered what he said to nasir. tion understood the weight of carrying such a secret, but he knew it was nothing compared to the weight nasir felt. tion had the advantage of being able to tuck away any guilt he felt, knowing he did what he did as the act of loyalty. he could convince himself this was a good thing.

he had known nasir for a long time now - long enough to be able to read between the lines of what was pressing on him. it was duty - the act of trying live up to the legacy carved by manderlys before him. he could not pretend to know what that felt like, for tion was the first good man in a long line of bad ones. there was no expectations on tion's shoulders, for the path he was forging for himself was a legacy cast anew, without the pressure to follow the footsteps that came before. for all the steady confidence in his words, he could not provide a balm for nasir's soul, could do nothing but sit in his company, and listen as those thoughts took shape into words.

"another?" he asked, gesturing to the half-full bottle with a wry smile. "or have you had your fill?" he was glad to see nasir laugh, but though he said nothing of it, something flickered in tion's gaze that was unfamiliar. perhaps it was something to do with the way nasir spoke of the belmores. he did not speak of his betrothal often, and it felt like something tion knew better than to poke at. instead, he merely raised his eyebrows, inviting further comment without asking with words. or perhaps it was because he was too close to the situation, too attached to the boy, to fully smother the flicker of protectiveness at nasir's words. all this. pathetic.

tion ran a hand over his jaw. "making do has served plenty of men well enough," he managed a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, evidently his own turn to fall into thought. well enough had never been something tion was content with, and nasir knew it well. in business, that was no bad thing, to hold ambition close and keep a steady eye on your goals. in the marital bed, it was different. if he took a woman to wife, how long would it be before his gaze began to wander, before he had set sights on the next best thing that he had to have? was there such thing as a woman so brilliant that he would find the sort of contentment that had never found him anywhere else, in any other aspect of his life. there was always something more.

"look at us," he chuckled. "sitting around like a pair of miserable bastards talking about women when neither of us have one." his laughter was low and warm, the kind that was a familiar sound to nasir in the years of their friendship. "perhaps that is our problem, brother. without a woman, we've both had much too much time to think."