Kan-e-Senna (FFXIV)

Kan-e-Senna. First lady of Gridania. She was the muse that eluded the Old Masters, the purity of fresh-fallen snow, and the piercing radiance of the winter sun. That same brilliant sun was setting now. It dimmed to orange-red on the horizon, throwing rays of amber light across the treetops of the Shroud. Long shadows streaked the freshly-fallen snow. It sparkled here and there, as the fading sun-streaks reflected. Kan-e-Senna waited by the window. Ice crystals grew on the rippling leaded glass. The world smelled of rosewood and burning candles.

Thin fingers toyed with the ribbon that held her white fur cape in place. She didn't feel the need to bundle up against the cold. To the contrary, the cape exposed too much of her collarbone and showed off her gold necklaces. The fur parted down to her swelling chest. The exposed alabaster flesh and indifference to the chill gave Kan-e-Senna a certain liminal quality. Even here, in a reborn realm saturated with sorcery, Our Lady of Solemn Peace seemed detached and ethereal. It was as if the world didn't touch her. She was too perfect to be touched, like an angel that walked on fresh-fallen snow but left behind no prints or marks.

This was her mask.

Untouchable, unburdened, indifferent to pain or fear or want. This was the mask she wore for her people: A porcelain goddess come to life; a spirit set apart from the profane. She was calm. She was grace. She was a pensive adagio in a minor key because that is what the people needed her to be. And that was what she let them see. The finger unconsciously touching the inner lining of the fur, just inches above her breast, betrayed the anxiety she hid beneath the placid surface. No one was allowed to see how Kan-e's heart trembled.

"Kupo?" the Mail-Moogle asked.

Kan-e gasped at the unexpected sound. She bit her soft lip, and forced herself to relax before she turned. 'Kupo' was, as ever, the undifferentiated catch-all word of the Moogle people. Kupopolo waited patiently, with his absurd postman's hat and oversized mailbag. Like all Moogles he floated in mid air, unencumbered by pedestrian gravity, propelling himself with the occasional flap of his too-small Moogle wings.

"Not today," she said. "Thank you."

The Moogle looked disappointed. Earnest as ever. The silly thing took so much pride in his duty that he saw the lack of correspondence as if it were his own personal failure. Kan-e crossed the room and let her fingers rest on a scroll. For a moment she turned it between her fingers, contemplating whether she should let the Moogle have it just for the sake of giving him the satisfaction. Or was she just looking for a distraction to burn the nervous energy?

In that moment Kan-e glanced at the mirror. Her reflection looked back at her with sharp green eyes. Golden hair. Unblemished skin touched with the embarrassed pink creeping into her cheeks. Her face was framed by the silverleaf crown on either temple. Seedseer, Oracle, Forest-Saint-and-Queen. A part of her hated the artifice. The illusion. The cage of her own perfection that set her above and apart from the world. Would that she could crawl in the Moogle's sack and let him fly her to Vesper Bay. Just for a weekend. Maybe. She smirked at the thought.

"Kupo," the Mail-Moogle said.

Kan-e's eyes widened. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Already?" she asked.

Kupopolo had turned and drifted out of the room, and she hadn't even noticed. The Moogle's indolent levitation made them effortlessly silent. But that wasn't the real reason she hadn't paid attention, and she knew it. For the second time in as many minutes, she had been caught daydreaming. 'What is wrong with me?' she wanted to ask herself. But she didn't, because she knew the answer.

Clutching her fur around her chest, Kan-e followed the Moogle onto the mezzanine. The visitor was a dark shape mounted on a Chocobo. He ducked his head beneath frozen willow-branches, dismounted the animal, and led it to a watering trough. The water had frozen over. The visitor jabbed it with the tip of his sword three times to break the ice. Then he unclipped the Chocobo's bridle while it dipped its comical beak for a drink. No one ever bothered to secure a Chocobo with something as mundane as a rope or chain. They were exceptionally loyal animals who knew exactly where they were supposed to be. And as he did all of this, the visitor pretended not to look up at her.

But of course he did. And she saw him do it. The fact that they both feigned polite indifference was part of the absurd fiction that ground on her nerves more often than anyone knew.

The Mail-Moogle drifted aside and tipped his hat as the visitor ascended the stairs. He was not exceptionally tall. The Miqo'te never were. Kan-e could look him in the eye if she ever stood toe-to-toe with him. He moved with feline grace, even as the fresh snow crunched beneath his feet. The ink-black coat could not have made a more startling contrast with the white winter landscape. Snowflakes dusted his shoulders. When he approached and threw back his hood, Kan-e's eyes traced the embroidered rococo scrollwork on his collar. A gloved hand rested on the hilt of the gunblade at his waist.

Avtandil Vhepki. Panther-Knight and Warden of the Twelveswood. X-shaped Miqo'te tattoos criss-crossed his angled face. A black eye patch covered his left eye. Long hair was plaited and coiled around his scalp, decorated with beads and the occasional bone ornament. When he looked up at her from beneath his heavy brow, Kan-e saw the twitch in his cheek that told her he was suppressing a smile.

She bit her lip. Just a little.

"My lady," Avtandil said. He knelt just low enough that his knee brushed the snow on the top step. She nodded politely, and he rose. There was a slowness in his movement, a momentary hesitation that revealed how much he secretly ached. Avtandil was not an old man but he was a warrior, and even the Miqo'te could not avoid the grinding pain that came with a lifetime of exertion.

"You bring news?" Kan-e-Senna asked.

"Yes, my lady," Avtandil said. He offered her a small box. The kind one might use for jewelry or confections. But it was neither and she knew it. "Not the sort of thing to be trusted to a delivery Moogle."

He stepped inside, removing his gloves and sniffing at the incense. An oversized ear twitched. He scanned the room slowly. Carefully. The way he might study a forest in hopes of picking out a treant. Desk. Bed. Chest. Wardrobe. The amber glow of candle light and the soft crush of a Sagolii rug. The snowflakes on his shoulders vanished immediately. "This is your home?" he asked.

"It is," she said, as she studied the offering. "Like you said. Not the kind of thing that can be trusted to others. I need a place I can be in control." The box was a plain wood thing with a crude latch. She opened it and found a set of three gold rings. Typical Girdanian work. The people here made jewelry that was plain and geometric. These were forest people, and they were not known for their metalwork. That fact made Avtandil all the more unusual. He was one of the few who had graduated from bowstring archery to using the unsubtle gunblade, soul of the forest be damned. "What am I looking at?" she asked.

"That's all that remains of Pawah Mujuuk."

"She is dead?"

"Yes, my lady."

That stung. Kan-e wondered why. Pawah Mujuuk was a poacher and a bandit. Merciless. Cruel. And this was a world of pirate kings and clockwork Magitek behemoths. Hadn't the world just re-emerged from apocalyptic calamity? There was no good reason why she should be concerned for the fate of a murderous criminal. Except, perhaps, that she had ordered the death. Through her lieutenants and the forest rangers, of course, but ordered all the same.

Now she glanced at Avtandil again. This man would kill for her. She just had to command it. That kind of power made her terrified, astonished... and excited. This is who she was behind the mask. Kan-e-Senna could say - or even just imply - that she wanted someone dead and it would happen. And that's why she had to stay in control. Her every thought, mood, and gesture had to be the result of care and deliberation.

Avtandil looked out the window, studying the forest that was his hunting ground. The fading light cut across his sharp features. Then he turned towards her again, and his remaining eye met hers. It was brilliant and blue. Wide and startling in its clarity. He was studying her the way a large cat studied an antelope. The merest twitch told her Avtandil was tracing the shape of her neck. Is that where he would sink his teeth, if given the chance?

The Panther-Knight was standing in the same place where she touched her fur-lined chest a few moments before. He sniffed just once, involuntarily, and Kan-e knew she was caught. What was a Miqo'te ranger, if not a predator above all else? Could he smell her from there? The oils in her hair? The scent of her skin? The embarrassing excitement she hid beneath her gown, and the creeping warmth in her most private place? She felt a sudden flood of heat and nervous anticipation, and she knew.

She knew.

"My lady-" Avtandil began, almost ashamed of himself.

"Please," she said, "Call me Kan-e."

That was all it took.

He attacked her with the fluid speed of a hungry cat. Their mouths met. Needy. Desperate. He practically sucked on her bottom lip. Strong hands cupped her cheeks. She kissed him back. Longer and harder and deeper than she had kissed anyone, ever. There was a needful longing there. Kan-e imagined a man dying of thirst who took his first sip of water, and couldn't hold himself back from gulping as much as he could. She gasped when he touched her - he TOUCHED her - grasping her back and pulling her close.

"Oh, gods above," Kan-e whispered between kisses. Her thin lips opened and she let his tongue into her mouth. And now she moaned. Their tongues touched and moved together like young lovers swaying at a slow dance. Kan-e had to explore him. Her fingers dug into his beard. She felt the strap of his eyepatch hidden between his braids. He smelled like leather and sweat. "Yes," she said, and kissed him again. Her tongue slipped between his cracked lips and traced his too-sharp teeth.

Those same teeth found her neck a moment later. Kan-e gasped out loud and stared wide-eyes at the ceiling. Avtandil's lips were on her pulse. His teeth scraped her skin. He sucked on the flesh and she wondered if this is the moment she might die. But then she closed her eyes and fell into him. Weak knees couldn't hold her upright anymore. Avtandil felt like he wanted to devour her. And she understood. She wanted him just as badly. She needed him in a way she never needed a man before. He tasted her skin and felt her body, hands moving beneath her robes and grasping her tight, round ass.

"Yes," she said again, for no reason she could understand. A tiny hand wrapped around his and moved it to her chest. For a moment Avtandil gripped her breast and kneaded it. Then he stopped and looked at her as if he was waking from a dream. They stared at each other for a long moment. Kan-e took his hand and placed it on her breast again, this time exposing her naked round tit for him.

Avtandil lifted her and fell forward into the bed. His mouth was on her bare breast, sucking on it and twirling his tongue around her tiny nipple. So hungry. So desperate. Fingers traced his scalp and she closed her eyes, letting him suckle at it. Her hips were already moving, grinding against his body. They rolled together and Kan-e climbed on top of him. She cast off her cape and pulled her clothes down to her waist. The heavy gold necklace clicked and tinkled as it dangled from her neck. Avtandil pawed at her. She offered her breasts and he took them eagerly, scooping up the second so he could suck on it while his free hand explored her rear end. Her knee moved between his legs and she could feel how hard he was. "Yes," she whispered to him as he tasted her tits. "Give it to me."

After several moments of thoroughly worshiping her breasts, Avtandil stopped and looked up at her. Kan-e immediately clasped her hands on his cheeks and kissed him again. Their tongues continued the slow dance together while she pulled at his shirt. Her lover never had large muscles, but they were so tight and dense that they might as well be steel cables. Old scars told the story of the injuries he had suffered fighting in her cause. And he was hot. Not just handsome but actually warm. Kan-e realized how much she had been deprived of the most basic human touch, the chance to just press her face against a man's chest and feel his body heat. Her life was so cold.

Avtandil began to rise, and Kan-e crawled backwards. Her heart fluttered with anticipation. Her gown collapsed around her as she fell to her knees and tugged at his belt. Eager. Hungry, even. Startling green eyes and small fingers studied him. Kan-e hadn't seen a man's cock in years. It was tall and smooth, like she knew it would be. The rod was a contradiction, at once swollen red and hard as a Dragoon's lance but also yielding and soft and velvety. She had to touch and kiss it at once, and right away she felt his heartbeat pulse against her lips.

The Seedseer saint of Gridania was wealthy, powerful, and beautiful, all at once. She could order delicacies from across the world. Exotic fish or bird eggs, roasted meat from strange animals, candies with flavors she didn't even have words to name. All she had to do was gesture and everyone from would-be suitors to enthusiastic Mail-Moogles would line up to gift her with her heart's desire. But nothing she had wrapped her lips around even came close to the sheer satisfaction of putting Avtandil Vhepki's dick in her mouth. She stroked it with her tongue from top to bottom, licked at the cockhead, placed her tongue against the soft, seeping split at the tip. He gasped out loud when she sucked on it. Their eyes met again as her head bobbed rhythmically. Every time his cock pulsed against her tongue, she could feel an answering twitch deep in her heart and between her legs.

"So good," he whispered, "So good." And she was good at it.

There was another strange contradiction here. The most powerful woman in Gridania was on her knees for this man, letting him fuck her mouth and giving him everything he wanted. But she was also very much in control. She was a virtuoso and his cock was her instrument. He reacted to her every touch and kiss and greedy all-over lick of her tongue. Finally Avtandil pulled her to her feet and they kissed once more.

Kan-e-Senna stepped out of her crumpled gown. She was naked now, save for her crown and jewelry. Naked, cold, and exposed. How long had it been since someone had seen her - since someone had REALLY seen her? Her face was perfect, soft and smooth and even beatific in her serenity. But now Avtandil saw who she really was. The freckle above her left nipple. The mole at the center of her back. The crease where her thigh met the cheek of her ass and the pliant thickness where her hips were wider than she would have liked. And there was her most private place, the hastily-shaven lips dripping slick dampness between her legs. For a moment she wanted to turn away from him, ashamed of her own fragility.

"You're so beautiful," Avtandil said. He took her hand and pulled her close. Their naked bodies pressed together, his hot throbbing cock touching the flesh of belly, lips softly exploring. He fell backwards then, leaning back onto the bed and letting her crawl on top.

Kan-e removed her headdress, revealing the caprine horns that marked all her people as children of the forest, first and forever. She removed a long pin and shook out her golden hair. Avtandil stroked her breasts with eager fascination as he waited patiently. Now she touched his cock again and placed the swollen head between her soaking pussy lips. She cried out when she let herself down and Avtandil entered her body. They moved together, finding a rhythm, letting his dick stroke the inside of her hot cunt.

Kan-e threw her head back and let out a moan as she rode him. There was only one thing she wanted in the entire world at that moment, and that was to be somehow closer to Avtandil. How was that even possible? She didn't truly know. Her hips moved on top of his, pushing and grinding with feverish desperation, as if she could somehow drive him even deeper into herself. An embarrassing, squeaking exhalation escaped her lips with every thrust.

The mirror showed her silhouette against the red glow of the setting sun. It was at that moment Kan-e realized she had forgotten to close the drapes. It was also that moment when she knew that she didn't care. Let the whole world watch her pale flesh melt against his, her round hips slide with the motion of an ocean wave, her naked ass clutched between his fingers. She cried out as the heat inside her swelled. At that moment all her manicured, pretentious bullshit was stripped away and replaced by one solitary thought: Avtandil Vhepki was fucking her brains out and she wanted everyone to know it.

"Oh, Gods, YES!" she screamed. "Yes, fuck me, yes!" Her entire body trembled, struggling to contain the explosion inside. The wave broke and she collapsed against him, gasping desperately for air. "Oh Gods," Kan-e said. "Did you feel that? I just came."

"I know," Avtandil said, kissing her neck.

"More," she whispered, clutching him tight against her chest. "More!" Now she lifted herself off his body and let Avtandil roll her onto her back. There was a humiliating wet spot on the bed sheets that made her giggle and pick nervously at her lip.

"Look what you do to me," she said, laughing.

"I love you," Avtandil said. He parted her knees and looked down at her wet, swollen cunt. "I've always loved you."

"I know," she said with a smile.

Avtandil placed his dick against her opening and thrust into her again. She cried out once more, like a pig speared on a lance. Now it was his turn to use her body. She felt one hand slip beneath her left knee. He thrust his arm beneath her leg and spread her wide open, as if it were even possible to drive himself deeper and deeper into her body. Kan-e moaned and panted as his thrusts quickened. Then he started to lose control, pounding her pussy and breathing hard.

Kan-e's eyes widened as she knew what was about to happen. A momentary panic seized her, and she dug her nails into the back of his neck. She hadn't thought this through. "Nnnn..." she started to say between clenched teeth. But she didn't. She couldn't bring herself to say the word and ask him to stop. She didn't want him to stop. No matter what happened, in that moment she didn't want him to stop.

"Fuck me," she finally gasped. "Fuck me, fuck me... Oh, give it to me." Her eyes fixed on his once more. "I want it," she lied to herself. "I want it. Give it to me, Daddy. Fuck me!"

Avtandil's hips lost their rhythm, and lost control. He thrust with aggressive abandon, an archer releasing a bowstring held for far too long. His cock spasmed inside her, and Kan-e felt the hot flood in her belly. "Oh, Gods, yes!" Avtandil shouted.

There was a crystalized moment of terror and regret. But it was also exhilarating in a way Kan-e had never known. She felt his cock pulse again, and another wet slap of cum landed inside her body. Not in her entire life had she felt so desired, so fulfilled, so ashamed, and so beloved all at once. At that moment she was his goddess, and her body was his temple. He thrust into her again and again. Then she came, too. Kan-e's legs tightened and her hips bucked in a trembling, earth-quaking orgasm. She buried her face in his neck and let herself scream.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Kan-e-Senna curled against him, and he held her tight. One hand stroked her belly. The other cupped her breast. She could feel the cock still pressed against soft, warm ass. Its strength was fading now. It relaxed and so did he. Avtandil's breathing slowed.