#but you get more into things and you uncover his relationship with Minfilia and his kinship with her and the duty he feels towards her

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Rebirth

If there was one thing the Dotharl were known for - well, it was probably their bloodthirsty desire for battle. But if there was a second thing always associated with the warring tribe, it was their belief in the reincarnation of those souls that died in the glorious flame of combat.

It was a concept that outsiders seemed to ill comprehend at best, and openly deride at worst, but Keshet had been born into it - dozens of times over, even. He harbored no doubt as to the validity of their beliefs - how could he, when he had watched friends and loved ones die in battle, only to see their eyes staring back at him moons later in the face of a fresh born infant? He had heard the stories of past incarnations of his soul and found himself within the tales. He had grown into exactly who he was meant to be, who he had always been, and rekindled relationships from his past life.

He could, however, understand why some doubted them. It would be easier to prove if they retained the memories of their previous lifetimes, but with each iteration they started fresh, required to learn again the skills they had once mastered. There were even those among the tribe who doubted; poor Mauci had never felt quite right with the name he'd been given, and he was not the only late bloomer, about whom rumors circulated around late-night campfires. So too was it perplexing that their skills were not always exactly the same from one life to another. A master swordsman might take up an axe or daggers upon reincarnation, but undoubtedly his technique would always reveal the truth of his identity.

Nor was it easily accepted amongst outsiders that their bodies did not always reflect their souls. Skin color, eyes, hair, horns, even sex changed from one lifetime to another, but the soul was constant, and it was exceedingly rare to uncover that a Dotharl had been misnamed. Whatever method the Khan used to determine whose spirit inhabited a newborn was exceptionally keen - Keshet had always wondered if it was some sort of magic Sadu employed, but he'd never received a straight answer when he asked.

So it was that Keshet had little trouble wrapping his head around the concept of the Minfilias on the First, the same soul reborn over and over again to fight on. Even the method seemed much the same: they died fighting, each and every one of them going out on a flame of glory on the battlefield after a short and brutal life, only to be reincarnated in short order as an infant, bereft of the wisdom she had garnered before. That she was a hyur was the only unusual part of the whole situation, though the Dusk Mother - Hydaelyn, if you preferred - was known to bless others with such gifts on occasion, and Keshet was more than willing to accept that his old friend, once the Oracle of Light, had received such favor.

Alisaie, it seemed, was not so willing, deprived as she was of a Dotharli upbringing or familiarity with their customs. She rocked back on her heels as they listened to Moren recount the tale, as surprised as if she were hearing it for the first time (although given her penchant for tuning out while people lectured, perhaps she was). "I don't even know- how can that be?" she demanded, doubt written plain in every line of her body. She glanced at him for support, lips parting when she found him utterly at ease with the prospect. "You're taking this in stride," she observed, crossing her arms.

"Why shouldn't I? It's no different than the many times I've been reborn." Her jaw dropped, and she blinked at him, words failing her. Keshet grimaced at the multitude of questions he saw swirling in her eyes, heading them off before she started in on him with a hurried, "But we don't have time to get into that now."

Though, as he made his was back down the stairs to consult with the twins away from prying ears, he found a new worry blooming in his chest, one he had not even thought to consider until the story had be presented to him: if he were to die here, on the First, what would become of his soul?

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

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[impossible-rat-babies]

Thinking about thancred at 5am I guess

[autumnslance]

What I’ve actually been working on for a bit over a week, now that the Zenos brainworm has been evicted. Back to Stormblood 4.0 and two besties having a post-sparring chat about current crushes and past regrets. Below the cut for those who prefer Tumblr to Ao3:

--------------------

Lyse and Aeryn fell on their backs onto the palm of Rhalgr, laughing as their early morning sparring session ended in a draw.

“Maybe we got a little carried away...But you have to admit that was fun,” Lyse said, lolling her head in Aeryn’s direction. “You’re getting better at hand to hand.”

“C’oretta’s been putting me through my paces. Got to keep up with her energy,” Aeryn replied, staring at the now-blue sky, the sun high enough over the mountains to have burned away the last of the early morning colors.

“I should practice with her more then,” Lyse said. “When we’re done with...all this.” She vaguely waved her arm, before letting it flop back to her chest. She kept watching Aeryn. “So what are you going to do once we’ve saved Krile and freed Ala Mhigo?”

“Nap,” Aeryn said immediately, setting off another round of giggles from them both.

“Oh-kay, that’s fair. But after that? Or maybe before?”

“If you’re going fishing you’re going to need actual bait, Lyse.” Aeryn turned her head enough to grin at her friend.

Lyse grinned back and rolled to her side, propping up on her left elbow. “I’m just asking, if there’s anything--or anyone--you’ve been thinking about.”

Aeryn frowned for a moment, looking to the sky again. “...Not particularly.”

Lyse wrinkled her nose. “You’re a terrible liar. C’mon, Aeryn, you can say it.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she replied, her hands briefly gesturing from the wrist only before dropping back to their resting spots on her stomach.

“Right, because you didn’t spend half our time in the Far East writing letters to and talking and thinking about certain charming rogues.”

Aeryn didn’t reply, her brows drawing down as she frowned more.

“Aer-yn.”

“What do you want, Lyse?” Aeryn sighed, turning now to mirror Lyse, propped on her right elbow.

“For you to admit whatever’s going on in your head concerning—”

“Oh don’t—”

“Thancred,” Lyse finished. At Aeryn’s wince and blush, she grinned again. “Aha-ha! I’m right, I knew it.”

“We’re friends—”

“So are you and a lot of other people, none of whom make you look like that.”

“...Like what?”

“You’re not just blushy, you’re...I dunno, like someone’s knocked the wind out of you, but in a good way. Your eyes practically glitter when you’re looking at him. Which is a lot when he’s around, by the way.”

“You’re exaggerating. Also we’ve seen Thancred for a whole, what, half a bell since we returned?”

“I know what I saw. What I’ve been seeing, every time you got a letter. Or wrote one, for that matter; you even write to him differently than you do to Rashae or anyone else.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes, but the blush had deepened and crept up her ears and down her neck. “You know I don’t--It’s not that easy--I…” she frowned again, trying to organize her thoughts, but from the thoughtful little crease between her eyes, Lyse knew Aeryn was now truly considering it.

“And you believe you messed up with Haurchefant,” Lyse said quietly. Aeryn didn’t respond. “That’s why you don’t realize what’s been happening.”

“And what, pray tell, has been happening?”

“You acting like a besotted schoolgirl, that’s what.”

“I am not.”

“Oh yes you are. And it’s adorable.”

“Take that back.”

“I shan’t,” Lyse replied in sing-song. Her smile quickly faded and it was her turn to sigh. “I didn’t want you getting involved with him when you first joined the Scions, you know,” she mused. “One, I knew you weren’t interested, and two—well, I’d known Thancred too long.” They both snorted and giggled again.

“But,” Lyse finally continued once they’d calmed. “You two have always had a rapport. You got to be pretty good friends, and I don’t know, it seems like with everything since finding me and Papalymo again, and then after Minfilia left...It’s become something else and it’s...nice.”

Aeryn didn’t answer right away, staring at some spot on the stone palm between them, and for a moment Lyse began to think she had definitely overstepped when Aeryn finally replied, very quietly, “It feels nice.” She frowned and looked at Lyse again, her grey eyes dark. “Things have changed but I don’t know that it’s,” she stopped and thought for a moment. “I don’t want to...ruin anything.”

“I have a hard time believing you could ruin anything, even if you tried.”

“You’d be surprised,” Aeryn said, rolling onto her back again. “I tried relationships when I was a girl in Thavnair. Twice. Neither worked out because...well…”

“You don’t like sex.”

Aeryn winced at Lyse’s bluntness. “It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just...not something I look for. It’s fun in the moment, but not a priority. And for a lot of people…”

“It’s important,” Lyse said. “So you think any relationship is doomed because you don’t have the same wants as other people?”

Aeryn nodded.

“Hrm. Well, I’m no expert, but seems to me that’s one of those things you’d just have to talk about. That whole being adults...thing.” Lyse waved a hand again, gratified by Aeryn’s small smile in response. “Which you likely just weren’t experienced enough for all those years ago, right?” She paused, frowning. “Orrr, is this also about Haurchefant?”

Aeryn covered her face in her hands and made a frustrated noise. “Gods, if I could purge those rumors and stories and the damned songs about that…” She sighed again and let her hands drop to her chest. “It...was sort of like those earlier attempts. He was kind, and I knew how much he cared for me, and I guess I...tried to reciprocate. Confusing his feelings for mine, maybe? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”

“You mean because of the Echo?” Each Walker’s Echo was a little bit different, and Aeryn’s made her especially empathic at times, Lyse knew.

Aeryn nodded. “Probably didn’t help that everything after Ul’dah was just...I was lonely, and scared, and I thought…” She shook her head. “I was stupid, and before I could apologize and fix it...Well.”

“You are far from stupid.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t make stupid mistakes.”

“Well, sure. Still, you couldn’t have messed up that badly.” At Aeryn’s cringe, Lyse raised a brow. “Come on.”

“I did sleep with him—once.”

“Really?” Lyse rolled onto her stomach, chin propped in both her hands.

Aeryn rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t...It was a stressful day.”

“You’ll have to be more specific. Your idea of a stressful day is different from other peoples’.”

“Fair.” She grinned at Lyse. “I had to babysit Emmanellain de Fortemps.”

“All right, that does explain a lot.”

“He got himself kidnapped by the Vundu…”

“Of course he did.”

“I went ahead, while Honoroit ran back to get aid--so, Haurchefant and a couple Haillenarte knights--and that was the day we learned about Bismark, as Cid rescued us with his ever-exceptional piloting before we were eaten.”

“That is a stressful day, even by your standards.”

“We stayed the night at the Rosehouse, there in the Sea of Clouds. Haurchefant came to my room--he claimed he had some nightmare that I had gone to fight the primal and had to see if I was all right; an irrational concern--”

“I don’t know, it’s what you do.”

“Well, yes, but not--anyroad, we spoke, and...held one another; not uncommon. But I felt as though something in me just...broke, and I wanted...I don’t know. Comfort? Closeness? ...I fear I may have simply used him…”

“I doubt that,” Lyse said gently. “You cared for him, right?”

Aeryn nodded.

“Well there you go. You had a vulnerable moment like any of us mere mortals,” she ignored Aeryn’s latest eyeroll. “It happened. And given what I’ve heard of Haurchefant, it couldn’t have been that terrible.”

“It wasn’t! But...As soon as he left—had to ‘protect my reputation’ or whatever—I realized...I didn’t,” Aeryn huffed as she paused in thought again. “I loved him, but not...like that. I couldn’t give him what he wanted.”

“And what’d he say to that?”

“That’s the thing; we never got to talking about it. I...avoided him for a bit after that, just to get my own head straight, think about what I wanted to say and why...and then we went on our mission to Dravania, and then it was just one thing after another and…” Her voice cracked. She took a breath and shook her head. “I regret not taking the opportunity to be honest with him.”

“Makes sense. And I can see why you’re hesitating to open up like that again. You’re afraid what you’re feeling is a reflection of Thancred’s feelings.”

Aeryn made a face. “I wouldn’t go so far as to presume what he feels—“

“I would,” Lyse stated. She smirked at Aeryn, then shrugged. “Before I would have said this is one of his fleeting infatuations. Buuut I’ve been watching since we rejoined you all in Mor Dhona, and he’s been...different.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well if I didn’t know better, lots of what I hear about how he behaved, up ‘til about Papalymo and I got back to the Toll, sounds like he was flat jealous.”

“Of what?”

Lyse scoffed. “Of other people being interested in you, of course. Not that you notice that ever. There’ve been talks he and I have had, where I look back and realize there were multiple meanings going on and I hate that he can’t just talk plainly like a normal person, but anyway the biggest one was when we did see him briefly in Castrum Oriens before he went off to find Krile.”

“He seemed normal to me,” Aeryn said, though she was pointedly not looking at Lyse.

Lyse recalled how Thancred had turned and smiled, his shoulders lifting as if a weight had been removed from them; not unusual in anyone, really, when the Warrior of Light walked by, but something about Thancred had lit up from within, and his uncovered eye had practically devoured Aeryn head to toe before simply settling on her, like someone basking in a sunbeam in the bath. In all the time Lyse had known him, he had never looked at anyone like that. And Lyse had known Thancred through some of his earliest attempts at relationships, when the experiences and emotions were all new (and Yda had teased him so much back in those days, before Lyse herself really understood what was happening), as well as more recent ones as an adult he had no real serious interest in.

“Well, he wasn’t normal,” Lyse said, uncertain how to explain it all out loud. “Neither were you, for that matter. If you’re acting like a schoolgirl, he’s just as bad.”

“Ugh!” Aeryn sat up, wincing a little, resting her arms on her half-drawn-up knees. “I still say you’re exaggerating.” She looked away. “...And given my Echo, it’s possible just one of us reflecting off the other.”

Progress, of a sort. Lyse sat up too. “I still say I’m not, and I don’t think so. Know how I know?”

“How Lyse?” Aeryn glanced at her friend, brows drawn into a helplessly annoyed expression.

“The way you were in the East when he was nowhere around,” Lyse reminded her. “Writing him letters, and excited to get his personal reply along with the reports. You wouldn’t even realize you were mentioning him, or telling stories, and the way you sounded and looked when doing so. And I know you were thinking about him other times, too.” She smirked as Aeryn went crimson again.

“...Fine. Maybe. It’s still...weird and makes no sense and doesn’t mean anything.”

“Means a whole lot, actually. You did say earlier that it felt nice.”

“Yes but...He’s a friend, and a colleague, and he...well…” Aeryn made a helpless gesture.

“Oh no; use your words!”

Aeryn let out an exasperated noise. “I don’t want to make the same mistake again,” she blurted finally.

“So, don’t,” Lyse shrugged, chin on her hand, elbow propped on a knee. “You know what went wrong with Haurchefant, and those others when you were younger. Thancred’s a smart man, and more considerate than he lets on. You can figure it out.”

“I don’t know that I should. It may not be a good idea, given...everything.”

“‘Everything’ like what, exactly?”

“Like, that we live and work together as Scions. That we’re in the middle of a war--which, by the way, we really ought to be meeting the others--and just…everything.”

“You mean being the Warrior of Light.”

Aeryn sighed. “Gotta admit, there’s a lot of...a lot, with it. Most of it I don’t even want.”

“Or it’s all the more reason, given who else outside the Scions really knows what you do?” Lyse shrugged as she got to her feet and stretched. “Food for thought, at least.” She reached down to offer Aeryn a hand up. “I think it’s a good idea, for the record,” she said as she hauled Aeryn to her feet and into a hug. “But that may be because I want to see my friends happy.”

Aeryn returned the embrace. “Thanks, Lyse. Let’s get cleaned up and meet the others.”

She was deflecting again, but that was all right; she was at least thinking about it now. Lyse nodded in agreement. “Thanks for the practice; I know I feel better.”

They negotiated the massive stone wrist and forearm to reach the entryway back into the old temple, then down the long, twisting stairs to the base. On emerging from the old door at the literal foot of the statue, they were met by Resistance runners delivering updates on matters in the Lochs, and a request from General Aldynn to return as soon as possible now that Alisaie and the other injured were safely in the Reach.

Lyse sighed as the runners left to make their next deliveries. “Guess cleanup can wait. If we teleport to Ala Ghiri we can meet Pipin and the others there and head to Praetoria together.”

“Good thing it has to wait, since Naago’s already there,” Aeryn said, a sly smirk on her face as Lyse stumbled.

“Wha—? I don’t know what you--Since when did she okay you calling her that?”

“I’m just pointing out that you call her that. Often. And I’m thinking maybe she can help you clean up since you’re so familiar.”

“Aeryn!” Lyse gawped.

“What?” She asked, all fake sweet innocence, hands clasped behind her back as she rocked on her toes.

Lyse peered. “Maybe you do notice more than you let on,” she muttered. Then shook her head. “I’m the Commander of the Resistance now, which means Na-M’Naago is my subordinate--don’t you dare!” she threatened, wagging a finger as Aeryn bit her lip, though that did nothing to suppress her giggles. “And it...it wouldn’t be proper or professional or...or something…” Rhalgr’s sake, now Lyse was the one feeling hot and blushing; her skin must have nearly matched her dress.

Aeryn patted Lyse’s shoulder as she buried her face in her hands. “I think no one’s going to care.”

“You know what? I take it all back; you’ve obviously spent too much time with Thancred already. Any more and it’s irresponsible levels of corruption.”

Aeryn laughed. “Don’t poke if you can’t handle getting poked back, Lyse!” She wrapped her arm around Lyse’s back and gave her a quick hug. “Though I do think you two are cute and I definitely know what I’ve seen is not me projecting,” she stage-whispered, grinning.

Lyse side-eyed her, trying very hard to be grumpy. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend and I love you or I’d kick your arse so hard right now.”

“Like you didn’t half a bell ago?”

“That was a draw! I could have had you!”

“Probably!” Aeryn sang, adjusting so they were walking arm in arm as they crossed the Reach toward the aetheryte.

Lyse grumbled, but couldn’t help smiling, too. This had been a nice reprieve from everything else going on before the final push to Ala Mhigo, and hopefully saving Krile along the way.

Alphinaud joined them at the aetheryte, grinning in that cheeky way he had when he had gotten the last word in on his and Alisaie’s latest verbal spar. Just to playfully annoy him, Lyse lightly punched him in the arm while Aeryn ruffled his hair before she initiated the teleport to Ala Ghiri for all three of them, to get back to the business of the war.

Despite that, Lyse knew that at some point in all this mess she was going to have to catch and play Little Sister to their resident sneak and probably just straight up bully him into admitting what he was thinking and spur him to do something about it. These two idiots would be happy one way or another, dammit, if Lyse had her way.

And if nothing else it might distract them from Lyse’s own love life issues. One could always hope, anyroad.

[autumnslance]

((Free Day for FFXIV Write 2020, a WIP I’ve dithered on for awhile. Early Stormblood; follows the "Foibles" prompt’s events. Below the cut for those who prefer Tumblr to Ao3.))

Rhalgr’s Reach slowly recovered from the assault as the days passed. The bodies had been buried and all rites given, the living granted their too-brief time to mourn. Now came clearing the rubble, repairing what could be repaired, and somehow finding replacements for what could not.

Recruitment and morale were low, but Conrad and M’naago hoped to make steady progress while working with the Alliance forces, as even the token victories managed before the assault had aided their cause considerably. The Imperials, for their part, seemed content to allow the Eorzeans to have the East End and much of the lower Fringes, secure as the enemy was in Castrum Velodyna.

Krile, Arenvald, and a few other junior Scions continued to lend their aid to the efforts, even as they prepared to escort the worst injured back across the border to Gridania once they were well enough to travel. Y’shtola would continue on to Mor Dhona to recover in the comfort of the Rising Stones and take her turn as the senior Scion in the Toll; Thancred was now in the Reach, since she was injured and their comrades headed to the Far East.

Thancred’s mopey thoughtfulness since arriving in Gyr Abania had not been lost on Y’shtola, and she resolved to draw the cause out of him before she left. It would not do to have their senior representative in a surly mood at this critical juncture. The next opportunity presented itself not two days before she was scheduled to leave.

“What exactly is the problem now?” Y’shtola asked as Thancred entered her little sectioned-off “room” in the Barber to deliver her tea, then dropped onto the floor between the bed and the chair she currently inhabited, as he sighed heavily.

“So grouchy. Do you also require your medication?”

“No. And I am not ‘grouchy’. You obviously wish to discuss something.”

“It is not that I mind aiding the war efforts here in Gyr Abania,” he said with no further preamble. “I am simply missing people, with so many now off to the Far East. Having you ready to return to Mor Dhona seems to have sharpened that feeling somehow.”

“I am terribly sorry my recovery is inconvenient to your mood,” she said as she sipped her tea. He had remembered exactly the right amount of honey and cream.

“That is not what I meant and you know it,” Thancred said, settling onto his back, hands behind his head as he looked up at the ceiling.

“I am merely waiting for you to arrive at the point.”

“Remember when we were all still back in the Waking Sands, and I was rather foolishly pining after certain colleagues?”

“No,” she said, as acerbic as possible. He glanced up and caught her smile. “It only happened often enough to make keeping track difficult,” Y’shtola teased. Then she grew serious. “Except perhaps in one instance, where so far as I can tell, you never truly stopped pining.”

He winced and looked back at the ceiling. “You don’t miss much. Though I like to think I was managing my boyish infatuation and simply enjoying having so good a friend as Aeryn has turned out to be. I honestly expected nothing more, and I know there was...another interest.”

Y’shtola nodded. She had not known Lord Haurchefant well, but what she recalled was entirely favorable. She had returned from the Lifestream after the man’s sacrifice, but had heard much from Alphinaud and Tataru.

“I thought,” Thancred continued. “On my return from the wilderness, that much had changed for both of us. We practically had to learn how to be friends all over again. We sorted it out, however, and talked--about Minfilia, Lord Haurchefant, and others.”

“And you find your ‘boyish infatuation’ renewed?”

“No,” he said flatly. Her ear flicked at the seriousness of his tone. “I know those; they are often fleeting things, much as I enjoy that time and company. Or, did; I’ve not experienced such since...well, since before our Lifestream mishap, actually. Oh, I have spent a night or two sating physical desire with willing company, but it is...less satisfying, after everything.”

“Don’t tell me you have become celibate.”

He laughed. “Perish the thought! But it’s not as much of a priority anymore. For one, events do not always afford the time. But mostly because...There is only one person I am truly interested in, but she is--so far as I know--not interested in me.”

“You just said your infatuation had not returned.”

“It has not,” he replied. “I have been examining the situation, and have come to a new conclusion.”

“Oh?”

“I believe I am...perhaps...falling for her,” Thancred said quietly, reluctantly.

Hearing him say what she had long suspected was somehow still surprising. It was not that he had never fallen in love before--Y’shtola had been present for those few affairs, as both critic and support--but it was exceedingly rare that he allowed himself such a luxury; she had seen him too often sabotage his own relationships, usually due to his own deep-rooted feelings of inadequacy hidden behind his charming smiles and sarcastic wit. The man had only recently developed the capacity--or perhaps more accurately, the willing vulnerability--for the deeper levels of communication required to maintain longer term relationships with an intimate partner. Perhaps that contributed to this realization; Y’shtola knew he and Aeryn had been speaking more.

She also knew a few things Aeryn had confided to her, when seeking a viewpoint with more maturity and experience than Lyse or Tataru could offer.

This was going to be tricky; neither of these dear, swiving idiots would say anything to the other if not nudged--or outright shoved--in the proper direction. Luckily for them, they had both chosen her as a confidante.

“Have you asked her if she is interested?” Y’shtola asked.

He frowned, his uncovered eye turning to her. “I know she does not care for intimate relations--”

“And yet, she has had some form of intimate relationships,” Y’shtola pointed out. “That she does not look at others and feel such attraction does not preclude a want for intimacy--including physical, in some cases. In any event, it does not mean one wants to be without close companionship.” She paused to take another sip from her cup while he thought. “If she is willing for something other than friendship, then she can set boundaries and communicate what she is able to give. ‘Tis a matter of respect and patience, which I know you fully capable of.” She leaned over, careful of her slowly healing injuries. “And I will not hear excuses that you are not ‘good enough’ for the Warrior of Light, Thancred.”

“Gods, I must be in a state, if you are being kind,” he smiled up at her fondly.

She smiled back and reached down her free hand; he took it and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m a bit surprised, however, that you have no words of warning about entertaining such notions with a colleague,” he said.

Now he was looking for a reasonable out; she wasn’t about to give it to him. “I trust that to be something you have already considered yourself, and part of the reluctance to admit to these feelings,” Y'shtola answered as she let go of his hand and sat back again. “Denying your heart will do no favors for your working relationship, either; it must be confronted and discussed like reasonable adults.”

Not that her friends were reasonable, but they could at least pretend for a time she mused as she sipped more tea.

“‘Tis a moot point at the moment, you know,” he said. “She is in the East. It shall be moons before they’re all back.”

“Then we shall have to keep you from stewing over the matter too much in the meantime,” Y’shtola replied lightly. “And if your feelings have not changed by the time our colleagues do return to us, then you shall have even less excuse to not speak with the woman.”

“Logical as ever. Thank you, Shtola.”

“You’re welcome, Thancred. Now, will you get off my floor?” She set aside her empty tea cup.

“But it’s cool and actually fairly comfortable. I think I wore myself out running Arenvald through his paces earlier. The boy’s come a long way and has far too much enthusiasm for sparring practice.”

“Thancred, please; I wish to nap.”

“I’m not stopping you,” he replied cheekily, hands behind his head again, a faint smirk on his lips as he closed his eyes.

Y’shtola sighed--exaggerating a tad, perhaps--and carefully, slowly, moved from the chair, giving him only a light kick in the ribs as a formality. He playfully grunted at her tap, otherwise not moving, as she lay down carefully in her bed.

She was not sure if he actually intended to sleep as well, or was simply using her room for the companionable silence and safety from Resistance officers and enthusiastic sparring partners it offered. No matter; she did not truly mind his presence--he knew she had fewer nightmares of Zenos (helm looming over her, cold voice taunting before the world shattered, leaving her drowning in her own blood) when another was near--and if Thancred sought his own form of comfort, she could not begrudge him that when their fellow Scions were ever so far away.

The pair slept, keeping each other company.