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hyzenthlay-kagon · 2 years

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Better Without Me

This is the beginning of Thancred and Hyzenthlay's relationship, I know compared to others that have Wol x Thancred ships this is probably the quickest/earliest span of Thancred getting with the Warrior of Light. But what can I say, I like to be different and I just felt right for my character. And is Thancred a bit OOC, maybe? Though to be honest I could see him acting this way within the story if he started having feelings toward the Warrior of Light.

This is within ARR, right around when the Domans pop up and Leviathan, but I honestly didn't wholly think of a time line of when this takes place... so if anything contradicts, that's just me poorly remembering the timeline.

Also on Ao3

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Thancred’s tankard of ale sat forgotten, his eyes stared vacantly at the freshly polished wooden table in the common area of the Rising Stones. A futile attempt to stave off the throbbing headache that seemed to come and go like the tides of Limsa Lominsa. A terrible side-effect from being a puppet to Lahabrea. It was as if the damn Ascian still had his claws within his mind, ready to pull the strings once more.

He downed the remainder of his now warm ale, closing his eyes hard as he slammed the now empty tankard on the table. He ran his hand over his face with a groan. His headache grew worse and the memory of his behavior earlier today did little to help in the growing pressure between his eyes. The hurt look in Hyzenthlay’s mixed eyes as he snapped at her to leave him be will forever haunt him. She had done nothing to warrant such behavior, only regaling him of her time helping an eccentric investigator who had a pension for falling headfirst into the ground. He wanted to hear more of her misadventures with this so-called investigator.

Hyzenthlay was always there with a smile like the sun parting the grey clouds during a rainstorm. She didn’t necessarily do much to assist the recovery for Thancred, but her just being there helped set him at ease, making being cooped up more bearable. She would often bring him a rice porridge dish that he had learned was often served to those that were ill, typically lightly seasoned with sesame oil so it would be easier to digest for those with weak stomachs. Which Thancred was thankful for. He looked forward to the many traditional dishes of Hyenthlay’s people and wanted to learn more about her culture and people. Through the moons of his recovery, he had found he had grown closer to Hyzenthlay. He felt a pull to her, like a string grown taunt when she was near. He had always felt this draw to Hyzenthlay since he first laid eyes on her in Ul’dah. But now that feeling had grown stronger and it scared him. How could he—a nobody—be with the “vaunted” hero of Eorzea?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed tight unable to fight the head splitting headache any longer. He had to go to his chambers, where he hoped there would be a headache tonic waiting outside his door as it had always been since the beginning of his recovery. He didn’t know who was leaving him the tonics, but he was grateful to them. There weren’t many skilled alchemists in the Scions, let alone ones who knew how to make such a remedy not taste as if he drank the whole botanist guild. Instead, the tonic tasted of sweet cinnamon with the faintest herbal aftertaste. It had worked within moments of drinking it compared to others that would seem to take hours for it to take effect.

Thancred slowly rose to his feet, every movement he made increased the pounding in his skull. Like his brain was being bounced around. Flashes of light blinked before his eyes as he made his way to the living quarters. He shouldn’t have waited so long, but he couldn’t risk running into any of the other Scions and he wasn’t in the mood for a lecture—Y’shtola and Tataru had already given him an earful. It was heartening still, knowing that Hyzenthlay was beloved by her colleagues and others around her that they would jump to her aid in a heartbeat. Even something as minuscule as her getting verbally attacked.

She’ll be all right then, Thancred tried to convince himself, She has others to support her where I cannot.

He stopped a few yalms from his room when he caught sight of Hyzenthlay standing outside of his door. He quickly ducked to the closest alcove, catching his breath and praying that he was not spotted. Taking a few beats Thancred chanced to peek out to see if Hyzenthlay had seen him but gave a soft sigh of relief to see she had not moved from where she stood with something clutched to her chest. Her dark scaled tail flicked behind her as she raised her hand to knock on the door, only to fall short. Instead, she let her hand fall to her side as she squatted down to place the item she was holding at the foot of the door. Thancred could make out that it was a simple glass veil with a small knot tied around the neck. It then dawned on Thancred; it was Hyzenthlay who had been crafting the tonics for him!

Hyzenthlay rose to her feet and made her way down the dark corridor toward her room. Thancred emerged from his hiding place a few beats later. He went to pick up the bottle, noting a small slip of paper folded in half and tied around the neck with string. He untied the note from the bottle, greeted by Hyzenthlay’s curved penmanship.

I’m sorry.

“Oh Hyzenthlay.” Thancred retreated to his room, leaning his back against the closed door. In one hand, note clutched to his chest and the vial in the other. “You should not be the one to apologize.” He looked down at the tonic, he was grateful to Hyzenthlay and her skilled alchemy to brew such a tonic and wanted to drink it as soon as possible to relieve the pressure behind his eyes. At the same time, he wanted to throw the bottle against the wall and suffer the stabbing pain as punishment.

Thancred slid down to the floor, banging the back of his head to the door. Not able to fight the headache any longer he forcibly uncorked the bottle and downed the tonic in two gulps. In an instant, he felt the pressure ebbing away as the sweet liquid began to take effect. He didn’t know how long he sat there in the darkness, fighting the to urge run to Hyzenthlay’s room. To wrap his arms around her small frame and bury his face in the crook of her neck. To kiss the dark scales around her neck and work his way up to claim her lips. He wanted to grovel and beg Hyzenthlay to forgive him for his cruelty toward her. He didn’t mean a word of it and enjoyed her company more than anyone. To see her eyes crinkle to crescent moons as she smiles—her real smile—as bright as any sunrise. But he was unworthy of seeing such a smile. Not when it was he who had made that smile falter.

“This is for the best.” Thancred tried to convince himself as he rose to his feet to make his way to his bed. “We are colleagues, we cannot risk being together when Eorzea relies on us.” He buried his face in his pillow, drowning out the reality he was faced with and steeled his resolve.

He would have to further his efforts to drive Hyzenthlay away. Even if that made him more of a scoundrel than he was now.

* * *

Thancred stared up at the ceiling, the light of dawn began to filter through the window of a room that was not his. A stranger’s room, more specifically a woman’s room. Who the woman was or her name escaped him nor was he keen on learning who she was. She was yet another tryst. Another distraction from a certain petite Au Ra woman who was now plaguing his thoughts and dreams. He would be lying to himself if he never wished it was Hyzenthlay, with whom he would share a bed. That he never envisioned it was her, instead of the one night stand he was bedding. And he felt he was dirtying Hyzenthlay with such a thought.

As silent as a shadow, Thancred got up from the bed in a quest to collect his clothes that were decorating the floor. As quickly as his tired body would allow, did he dress himself before slipping out of the room. He ran his fingers through his unkempt silver hair, trying to look more presentable as he made his way back to the Rising Stone. It was early enough in the morning that he would have a chance to avoid running into Hyzenthlay. He had learned she wasn’t a morning person and would tend to sleep in if the opportunity ever presented itself. Though his plan was never foolproof, for some mornings he would run into Hyzenthlay. At first, she would greet him with a smile, but it would falter for a moment when her eyes would land on a molten love bite on his neck or the disarray of his clothes that most likely had a smear of rouge on the collar of his tunic.

His luck, as the Twelve dictated, wasn’t on his side. No sooner did he step foot inside the Rising Stone did he collide into Hyzenthlay. On reflex he wrapped his arm around Hyzenthlay’s slim waist to keep her on her feet. In doing so, it brought them closer together with her hand on his chest. Hyzenthlay’s odd eyes widened upon setting on his face, that were impossibly close to hers. He always thought they resembled the dawn and dusk. Her right eye the soft pink with flex of gold of the sunrise, while her left was a deep blue as the sun came close to hiding behind the horizon.

Thancred should have let her go, but it was like he was placed under a spell by the goddess of love herself, Menphina. Just having Hyzenthlay this close in his arms was like he was in a dream. His heartbeat quickened upon feeling her small hand cupping his cheek.

“You have been out again last night.” She said matter-of-factly. But there was a twang of sadness in her words as she looked Thancred over. He assumed he looked like shite. Her thumb ran under his eye where signs of dark circles were forming, “I wish you wouldn’t.” She added under her breath. It was so soft that if Thancred wasn’t so close to her, he wouldn’t have heard her.

He cupped his hand over Hyzenthlay’s, “Why is that?” His voice was low as if speaking any louder would break whatever has fallen between them.

“Y-you haven’t been sleeping recently,” Hyzenthlay darted her eyes anywhere, but Thancred’s face, as he leaned forward with his free hand cupping her cheek, gently nudging her to look at him. Her mixed eyes wide “A-and you are still recovering. A-and… What was the question again?”

Thancred’s breath tickled her lips as he spoke, “I forgot.”

Hyzenthlay’s eyes scanned down to his parted lips then back up to his warm brown eyes. A light flush colored her cheeks that blended into the intricate scales that adorned her cheek as his lips brushed against hers. It wasn’t a kiss, a ghost of a touch with a promise of so much more. One that Thancred would be more than happy to fulfill.

“Am I interrupting something?”

The spell shattered.

Thancred’s hands dropped to his side, stepping away from Hyzenthlay in one fluid motion. He stood farther than necessary that would have unwittingly made him look more suspicious, “Not at all F’lhammin.” He played it off with one of his dashing, roguish smiles.

F’lhammin peered at Thancred over the frame of her eyeglasses, “Seems to me our little Warrior of Light has fallen victim to your charm, or is it perhaps the other way around?” she flashed a look at Hyzenthlay, which resulted in her cheeks to bloom a deeper shade of red.

“You flatter me F’lhammin,” Hyzenthlay recovered quickly, “But, Thancred wouldn’t fall for someone like me, not when there are so many women in Eorzea that are far prettier than I.”

Her words cut Thancred like a knife. The fallen, defeated look on her face was yet another blow to his already beaten soul. But it had to be this way. He tried to convince himself it that the more he continued this cruel farce the sooner Hyzenthlay would find someone better. Someone who could shower her with adoration. Even though he so desperately wanted to be that man. To be the one to tell her how god forsakenly breathtaking she was. But he bit back those words. Watching as she excused herself, leaving only he and F’lhammin alone.

“You are being an arse you know,” F’lhammin spoke bluntly, arms folded over her chest. Her eyes hard as she stared daggers into Thancred—which now is not uncommon from the other Scions—her eyes shifted to the darkening mark on his neck that he quickly covered with his hand “You are hurting her far more than you realize. And yourself for that matter.”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Thancred’s failed attempt at a lie, “Spending the evening with a fair maiden isn’t so far-fetched for me as you know.” He scoffed.

F’lhammin rolled her eyes, “What was her name?”

“Pardon?”

“The woman you were with last night, what was her name? What did she look like?”

Thancred opened his mouth to speak but clamped his lips shut. He could not answer that. He did not get the woman’s name, nor even looked at her face. All he knew was that her hair was dusty pink like a certain Au Ra, though the paramour of the night’s hair wasn’t quite the same shade of pink. It was darker without the hint of pale blonde strands that weaved into the pink. She was a pale imitation of the woman he wanted to be with and he knew that. He knew that and yet, he still pursued the encounter, like so many others.

“You are doing yourself no good by hurting Hyzenthlay—and yourself for that matter—with this farce.” F’lhammin’s expression softened, reaching to hold either side of his face with her hands, gently forcing Thancred to look at her, “I know how you feel about her, the way your eyes always find her in a room. How you seem to light up when she is near. So why push her away like this?”

“I’m not the one she needs.” Thancred shrunk away from F’lhammin, moving toward the living quarters.

“Did she tell you that herself?”

He froze.

“Did Hyzenthlay tell you flat out that she was too good for you? That you were beneath her?” F’lhammin walked over to Thancred, resting a hand on his shoulder, “Before you make that decision, maybe you should talk to Hyzenthlay about this before it is too late. I’m sure she wants you just as much as you want her.”

She didn’t wait for Thancred to respond as she moved toward the bar to start her morning inventory. The conversation was at a close with Thancred mulling over F’lhammin’s words as he made his way to his quarters to erase the evidence of his escapade. Though some evidence wouldn’t be so easy to wash or explain away. He shed out of his tunic, tossing it blindly on the floor as he made his way to the bathroom.

Gods, he did look like shite. His neck was littered with faded and newly forming love bites that he had collected from his string of nightly liaisons. Dark circles weighed down his blood shot eyes as he examined himself in the mirror. His lips were chapped, discolored from the bruisingly harsh kisses he received and that he in turn delivered in such desperation to ignore his fantasies of kissing Hyzenthlay. To have her small frame in his arms—to hear her voice filling the bedroom. When did he get like this? Since when did he allow her to have such a grip on his heart? It was more than his usual lust filled drive. It was something more, he wanted her body, yes, but he wanted more than that. Thancred wanted Hyzenthlay in every sense of the word.

He smiled bitterly at his reflection, “What a mess you have made.” He raked his hand through his tousled silver locks, letting out a long breath through his nose. “How could Hyzenthlay love a man like you?” Thancred turned bitterly away from the mirror.

He stripped the remainder of his clothing before turning the hot water on for his bath. Once the tub was filled, he quickly began washing himself clean of the night’s filth. Only once he deemed himself clean did he drain the basin and step out to dry himself off with the plush towel he set aside, before wrapping it another one around his waist. Using another through his dripping hair.

A sharp knocking at his door drew his attention from the task of dressing. He felt his pulse quicken with the fleeting hope that it was Hyzenthlay on the other side of the door. Thancred slipped into his trousers and threw on a tunic as he made his way toward the door. He took a moment to compose himself before opening the door, only to be greeted with a physically annoyed Tataru. She was holding a tray with a steaming cup of coffee and a simple bowl of oatmeal. Garnished with sliced strawberries and blueberries that were arranged to look like a flower.

“Hyzen instructed me to deliver you breakfast when you got back,” Tataru huffed, barging into Thancred’s room, “though I don’t see how you deserve it.” She slapped the tray on his table, the coffee sloshing out of the cup. “I don’t understand why she’s so kind to you when all you’ve done has been a complete arse.” She turned around to face Thancred, her eyes were like icy daggers.

Thancred laughed with no humor, “You are the second person to say that today.” He closed the door. If Tataru was going to yell at him, it might as well be behind closed doors.

“Because you are!” Tataru threw her hands up in exasperation, “Hyzen had been all been nice to you and you go around hurting her!” her lips curled in a scowl, she was physically restraining herself from kicking Thancred in the shin.

Thancred remained silent through Tataru’s ranting. No longer hearing the words that so many others before her had repeated in the countless moons since he started this charade. Since he tried so desperately to hold Hyzenthlay at arm’s length. “Are you done? I’m not in the mood for a lecture this early in the morning.” Thancred ran his hand through his hair.

Tataru huffed, her annoyance growing with Thancred’s nonchalance of the issue, “Thancred Waters, you best get your act together!” He pointed her short finger at him accusingly, “I cannot bear to see Hyzen hurt so! Not in such a manner as this!”

“You think I enjoy this?” He hissed through his clenched teeth, “You think I want to hurt her?! For her to hate me as I debase myself and act like the scoundrel lecher that I have been labeled as?” Thancred gripped at his chest, as though could rip out his heart so he could stop it from beating. To make him stop feeling this emotion that he was too afraid—too unworthy to feel. “I don’t deserve her.” Thancred all but choked the words out. “I never wanted it to be this way.” His voice shook, something he never thought would happen as he sank to the ground with his back against the wall.

Tataru said nothing as she waddled across the room toward him. Her expression softened; she had never seen Thancred so dejected. She imagined that this is what he would have looked like, living on the streets of Limsa Lominsa with nothing. Not a onze of hope in his already tormented brown eyes as he stared vacantly on the floor, his hand still clenching at his heart. “Then talk to her Thancred.” Tataru patted his knee with a gentle smile, “If anything else, tell her how you feel.”

When Thancred said nothing, Tataru slipped out of his quarters. Closing the door behind her, Thancred was left alone with his aching heart.

* * *

Thancred was alone in his room, sharpening one of his daggers with a whetstone. He had been avoiding Hyzenthlay. A feat he was not expecting to be such a challenge the last several moons. With the arrival of seafaring refugees from Doma as well as the threat of a primal god being summoned by the Sahagin. Every turn he made; there she was around the corner. As if the Twelve were orchestrating every encounter. Always with that bright smile that creased her eyes in the shape of crescent moons. And always him making that smile falter with his cowardice. Openly flirting with the Doman women when Hyzenthlay was near. Higiri was his main target, flowering her with his praise on her cooking and her beauty. But every compliment was directed to Hyzenthlay, for his eyes would always be on her.

He stopped mid-stroke with the whetstone, glancing over his shoulder when he heard a soft rapping at his door. “Come in.” He went back to sharpening his blade when he heard the door open. He didn’t have to look to know who it was, he just knew it was Hyzenthlay.

“Sorry to intrude,” Thancred heard the door close, “but I’ve noticed you haven’t been eating recently so I—oh, Higiri cooked you dinner.” The disappointment thick in her Steppe lilt.

Thancred looked away from his task to see the rather impressive spread Higiri had prepared. She was resourceful, adjusting her Doman recipes with Eorzean ingredients and quickly learning Eorzean cuisine. It was little wonder why F’lhammin hired her as the head cook for the Rising Stones. But the meal was left untouched and would most likely be disposed of. He set down his dagger and whetstone, turning to Hyzenthlay. She was holding a tray with a humble, steaming bowl, that he suspected was the rice porridge she had cooked for him in the past.

“Actually,” Thancred crossed the room to where Hyzenthlay stood, taking hold of the tray, “Higiri’s cooking is rather too rich for my liking.” He looked down at the bowl, smiling despite himself to see it was porridge, garnished with slices of meat and a drizzling of fragrant sesame oil. “I have been craving your porridge, what was it called again? Bantan?”

The corner of Hyzenthlay’s lips twitched to a small smile. “I’ll leave you to enjoy your meal then.” She turned to leave.

Thancred balanced the tray in one hand, reaching out to Hyzenthlay with the other to grab her wrist, “I actually wouldn’t mind the company this evening.” It was a terrible excuse, but he didn’t want her to go. He was tired. Tired of driving Hyzenthlay away, not when it had only fueled his desire—his attraction and love for her. He just hoped he wasn’t too late to repair the damage he had caused.

Hyzenthlay looked down at her wrist that Thancred held oh so gently, as if he held on too tightly her thin wrist would snap. “You, want me to stay?” Her mixed eyes scanned up to meet the golden-brown of Thancred’s own, with such an apprehensive, yet hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

“If you are amicable.” Thancred breathed, trying his best to keep his voice even. Suddenly realizing that Hyzenthlay was alone in his room. For he had dreamed of having her in his room, not in that way—but to have her in his space. To have her see him as no one else had before. To have her lay beside him in his bed, feeling her curled into him. He wanted to hold her and to see her as no one has seen her before—asleep and vulnerable, no titles, no duties. Just Hyzenthlay.

“I’m not sure I would be the best of company.” Hyzenthlay stated, a sad smile tugged at her lips making Thancred’s heart sink, “Not like Higiri, I’m sure.”

Thancred let go of Hyzenthlay’s wrist, “You are right, you are far better company.” He offered her a warm smile, loving the shade of pink her cheeks turned as she followed him to the table.

Hyzenthlay sat opposite of Thancred, watching him eat in silence. After a while she began to pick at the scales around her wrist, “You are confusing.” She finally spoke as Thancred scraped the last bit of porridge from his bowl.

He peered up at Hyzenthlay, “Am I?”

She nodded, “I don’t know how to act when I’m around you. You have acted like I don’t exist.” The picking at her scales, far more aggressive, “And now you are being nice to me, wanting me near you when before it seemed like you were always itching to get away from me!” Her large eyes brimming with tears as she looked up at Thancred.

Thancred moved from his chair to Hyzenthlay, kneeling to his knees as he cupped either side of her face with his hands. He swept away her fallen tears with his thumbs. He wanted to speak, but the words weighed heavy on his lips. He felt his heart shatter into a million pieces, a pain far worse than any wound he had received in battle.

Hyzenthlay reached out to grasp onto Thancred wrist, “Is it because I’m younger than you? Is it because I’m an Au Ra?” She hiccupped, “I know I’m not pretty; I have these ugly scales and horns! That you would rather be with a woman tha—”

Thancred silenced her with his lips crashing onto hers. Hyzenthlay resisted him at first, pulling back with a gasp before Thancred coaxed her back to him to lock their lips again. She soon melted into him, kissing him back. He flicked his tongue along her lips, parting her lips to taste the bitter salt of her tears as he deepened the kiss. Her arms came around his neck, drawing herself closer to Thancred. His hands traveled down to rest on her hip, slipping his hand under the hem of her dress. He felt the texture of her scales that decorated her thigh on his fingers.

Hyzenthlay shivered from Thancred’s roaming hands, causing him to pull away. His hand still on her skin. Her lips were carnation-pink and swollen from kissing. Her dusk and dawn eyes were huge with her pupils blown wide. Her irises were thin rings like the light of the sun during an eclipse.

“You have it all wrong.” Thancred brought his hand back to cup her cheek, “You are beautiful,” He rasped, “You are the most beautiful of any women in Eorzea and beyond. I care not of your age or of what you are. All I care about—all I ever cared about was you.”

“Then why?” Hyzenthlay rested her hand over Thancred’s, “Why sleep with all those women?” There was no hatred in her eyes as she spoke, just sad confusion and curiosity that hurt more than if she did hate him, “Why would you go to such lengths to push me aside?”

“Because I can’t be with you.” He combed his fingers through her sunrise pink curls, “Why can’t you see that? I nearly killed you when I was under Lahabrea’s control! How could you ever want—”

Hyzenthlay lunged off the chair she was sitting in, nearly knocking Thancred off balance. He braced himself with his arm while the other wrapped around Hyzenthlay on instinct. Her lips collided on his, silencing him as he had done with her moments ago. He kissed her back after a moment’s hesitation, pressing her closer to him until her chest was flush with his. The feel—taste—of her was intoxicating. She was soft, delicate but also strong under his hands, resting his hands on her waist when she positioned herself on his lap.

“Lahabrea wasn’t your fault,” Hyzenthlay whispered as she pulled away with Thancred chasing her lips, “I do not blame you for what happened in Praetorium. Nor anything else that led up to it. You are more than deserving to be with me—to court me. Though I am unfamiliar with how Eorzeans court one another.” She traced Thancred’s kiss swollen lips with her index and middle fingers in reverence.

Thancred swallowed the lump in his throat, taking Hyzenthlay’s hand that was tracing his lips to kiss the pads of her fingers. “I’ll gladly teach you how we court in Eorzea.”

The smile that he adored, lit up on Hyzenthlay’s face, the one that crinkles her eyes into crescent moons, “I’m ready to learn.”

Thancred leaned in to kiss her again, something that felt so natural. And he knew that he would never tire of it. And with the way Hyzenthlay was kissing him, he knew she felt the same way.

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