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autumnslance · 6 months

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Year of the OTP - August 2023 - Snowstorm

(Whoops, fell off with this thanks to Other Writing Projects, but let's get back into the swing with 2500 words of Heavensward pre-relationship and a draft I have sat on for years and am finally reworking and yeeting out here...Original prompt list here! Something of a sequel, or at least a similar situation, to Sandstorm.)

“This seems familiar,” Aeryn said as they shoved the old door closed against the howling winds.

“In some ways,” Thancred agreed, unable to stop his teeth from chattering. “Should we worry about heretics or creatures?”

“Durendaire cleared this hamlet recently,” Aeryn said. “I remember talking to Redwald about it, so figured it was safe enough for shelter.”

Thancred nodded and stamped his feet, following her from the foyer to the cramped sitting room of the abandoned house, one of many dotted across the icy countryside after the Calamity. The farmhouse wasn’t large, nor had it seen recent upkeep from weather such as the blizzard winding up outside.

It didn’t help that Thancred was soaked up to his thighs, having slid off an embankment and onto ice thinner than it had looked while they had fought their quarry for Clan Centurio, a rogue aevis of unusual size. It was a part of Nidhogg’s emboldened brood and had been terrorizing the supply lines from Falcon’s Nest to the Convictory and Tailfeather.

The dragon was dead—but they would be too, if they didn’t get a fire going soon. The temperature was noticeably dropping.

“Been awhile since we outpaced a storm like that,” Thancred said while they did their best to shut themselves into a single room. “Not sure if I wish to be in a sandstorm instead, though.”

“This is much too cold for my Thavnairian blood,” Aeryn sniffed. A quick check showed some remnant firewood made of broken furnishings. She got the fire going, using magic to speed the process.

“You’re half-Coerthan,” Thancred replied. “Surely that affords you some acclimation.”

“I left when this place still had proper seasons,” she countered. “You have to get those boots off.” She dug into her pack for blankets or anything else to help. Despite the spellwork making it capable of carrying quite a lot without burdening the wearer, Thancred knew what a crowded mess her bag was, and shuddered.

Or maybe that was just the cold.

“Working on it,” he replied, shrugging off the winter coat he had donned for this venture. He hung it over a nearby chair that yet survived, turning it to the fireplace to help dry the fabric, his gloves left on the seat. Then he sat heavily on the large, fuzzy rug—it was ragged, but at least in this cold there probably weren’t fleas or other vilekin—and began fumbling at the buckles and laces of his boots, fingers not as nimble as usual.

“Let me help,” Aeryn said, dropping a blanket next to him as she knelt on the rug.

“I’ve got—” He growled in frustration as his fingers slipped past a buckle again. Her hands caught his, pressing his fingers between her warm palms. “Fine, I don’t have it,” he admitted, breath caught at the feeling. At least there was a feeling.

“You’re colder than I thought,” Aeryn said, frowning. She let go of his hand, and it was an effort for him to not whimper at the loss. She quickly got his boots off, and the socks beneath them, pulling the wet fabric carefully. The feel of her fingers on his legs sent more shocks through him. “Um. Your pants are soaked, too,” she said.

“Then they’ll have to go,” he replied. “I can manage that, as entertaining the idea of you further undressing me is,” Thancred joked. He couldn’t help but grin at her expected blush.

“Well, you’re not so far gone as I’d feared,” she replied dryly. But she smiled in return, relieved he had the energy for his usual teasing demeanor.

“You’re not rid of me that easily,” he said. “And you should remove your own damp layers, Aeryn.”

She nodded in response, turning away from him as she removed her coat and boots. While she did, he managed to unlace and unbutton his pants and wriggle them off, dropping them aside while keeping the blanket over his lap for her sense of modesty more than his own. At least he had smalls on; while staying with the Vath, that hadn’t been an option. He pulled his sweat-damp top off while at it.

He distantly watched her hang up their gear to dry, over random old furnishings or even carefully off the mantle. She dug through his pack, too, for anything to help with the cold. He ought to help, but mostly wanted to sit and doze by the fire. She knelt by him again, and he thought the way the firelight framed her was rather pretty. “How are you feeling, Thancred?”

“Cold and tired, and my feet still feel number than I like.”

“May I?” At his nod, she pushed up the blanket and began examining and massaging his feet and calves to stimulate circulation, her skin warm and soft against his and gods. He swallowed hard and watched as her shoulders relaxed. “I don’t think you’re in danger of frostbite, just cold—”

“Could you keep massaging just a bit longer?” he blurted. “It’s helping.” He didn’t want to try to explain how much he didn’t want to lose the sensation of another’s skin on his, the simple touch of another person. He kept his eyes down as she studied him briefly, but then she nodded and continued for a few more minutes.

It was heavenly.

“It’s still getting colder,” she noted, finally moving away to look for more fuel for the fire; there wasn’t much left in the room. “We’ll have to strip down and sleep next to each other for warmth.”

He raised a brow, surprised she had been the one to suggest such. Then again, she had been living in Coerthas for moons now and had learned from her hosts. That was what he meant to say. What slipped out was an attempted jape: “Is that how things started with Lord Haurchefant?”

Aeryn’s face reddened as she fumbled with an old, broken set of shelves. “No!” she snapped, focusing on the fallen bits of wood to carry to the fire.

“I’m sorry, I’m not thinking clearly,” Thancred said, rubbing his arms. “I know his loss is still recent and naught to joke about. I do admit to a bit of confusion, as I recall you not caring for romantic matters and yet—”

“Stop.” Her tone was sharp, her back to him as she tried to busy herself by the fire. “Please,” she added after a moment.

He frowned at her back, more irate than he perhaps should have been. Probably just the cold.

“It wasn’t like that,” she finally said so quietly that he almost missed it. “I know about the gossip, and the godsdamned songs and poems the local bards have spun up since that day in the Vault, and since my return upon Midgardsormr.”

Which was how Thancred had first heard; he wouldn’t have given such the tavern bawds credence, however, if he hadn’t also spoken to the Fortemps servants about how besotted the young lord had been with their guest, and how she was so carefully interested in return, and wasn’t it all just so terribly tragic, she had been so aggrieved…

“If I could stop all those rumors, I would,” she practically growled. “Haurchefant was…a friend. That’s…that’s all.”

Thancred peered at her. She was still turned away, staring into the fire. “You’re still a bad liar,” he pointed out.

Aeryn did turn now, to scowl at him. She looked about to say something, then blinked, her irritation turning to concern. “Hells, Thancred, you’re freezing.”

“There is a blizzard out there.”

She shook her head, finishing removing her own clothes until she was just in her band and smalls, then dove under the blanket with him. He expected back to back, but she wrapped her limbs around him and was not only warm, but the close contact with another person again left him heady.

Thancred thought for a moment. How long had it been since he had touched, and been touched, by another person so intimately? Moons, certainly, even counting his brief tryst with Hilda on his first arriving in Ishgard. That had been...different, than this; more desperation than anything, sating an immediate need for carnal contact with willing company (and that wasn’t insectoid).

All right then; how long since he had experienced an innocently friendly, intimate touch with no other expectations? He really couldn’t say, as he wrapped his arms around Aeryn in return.

“I’d…tried to reciprocate his affections,” Aeryn said after a moment. Thancred frowned. Her head rested on his shoulder, dark strands of hair tickling his cheek while her breath was warm on his collarbone when she spoke. “He was my friend, and I cared for him as such—and realized, too late, that was how it was. He wanted something else. Then everything happened and I never got—never took—the chance to clear the air with him before…everything happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Thancred said, wincing. “For how that turned out, for that loss of a friend, and for my thoughtlessness and heeding of base rumors.”

He could imagine the little thinking crease between her brows as she took a long moment to respond. “Thank you,” she said eventually, not elaborating. Then she sighed. “Not the first time I’ve made such an error. I thought I’d grown past such, knew myself better. I hate feeling like I led the man on, or used him.”

“Knowing you, I doubt that’s what happened,” Thancred said. “Still, nice to know our Warrior of Light’s yet fallible,” he teased gently, jostling her.

She whined a little. “Keep that up and I’ll kick you all night.”

“Ah, is that the danger I face?”

“Only if you listen to my sisters. Or Yda. Or Y’shtola. Or—just go to sleep.”

He chuckled, watching the fire and listening to the wind howl outside. It was as cold as the Hell of Ice outside of their little nest of blankets. So stay put and don’t examine any other reason besides staying warm as to why that seemed like a nice idea.

Thancred shut the mental door firmly there. Aeryn was a friend and colleague, and they’d both been through too much hell in recent moons. His time of isolation had affected his mind and physical reactions when he was literally freezing and she only did what was necessary to keep him in good health, despite his acting like an ass. Had their positions been reversed, he’d have done the same with no thought of anything but her safety.

Well, he may still have made a few jokes, just to make her scoff and smile and snark back the way she usually did when he teased. He had truly missed that, and was truly sorry for causing distress by bringing up those rumors.

He merely wanted to look out for her interests and her own bruised heart. That was all.

—

He was alone. The plain was unending, empty but for the buzzing of insects and the distant roar of dragons. The wind howled, sounding like the shouts and screams of men in blue uniforms. Their ghosts sliced at his bare flesh as he ran, calling out the names of the Scions until he was hoarse while cold shadows blotted out his vision and Ultima burned through his veins as Lahabrea laughed…

—

“Thancred!” Aeryn’s voice jolted him awake. It was soon followed by the warmth of her hand on his face, checking his temperature. “Are you all right?”

“Bad dream,” he rasped, clearing his throat. “Apologies if my thrashing woke you.”

“More your clinging,” she said. She was one to talk, given how she had latched on like a barnacle. Aeryn started to remove her hand, but he caught it, holding it against his cheek, needing to keep that gentle touch, noting her scars and calluses, letting that reality ground him in time and place. “Thancred?”

“Apologies,” he said. “I simply…” Am acting a fool.

“You were alone for a while,” she said gently.

He smiled wanly, finally lifting his gaze to her. She was propped on her elbow, watching him. His eye covering had slipped off in his restless slumber; his left eye was beginning to throb from the aetherial underlay it showed, a result of the damage he had taken from the Flow before being spat into the Dravanian wilderness. He temporarily forgot the discomfort it caused as he finally looked at Aeryn with his eye uncovered. She glowed with bright aether, sparking across every ilm in shimmering blue, tracing her limbs, outlining each muscle, every scar, the well of brilliant strength within her possibly fathomless...

“The Vath are not the best company for a fleshling, unfortunately,” he admitted after too long spent staring. “I didn’t realize how lonely I had been until...well, until you all found me again.”

She pulled him close, letting him lean on her this time in a simple embrace. “You’re here,” she said quietly. “You’re all right.”

He let out a heavy sigh and listened to the steadiness of her heartbeat, breathed in the hint of her violas mixed with the tang of earlier activity sweat. “Do you ever tire of taking care of people?” he asked, only half joking.

“Sometimes,” she admitted, like it was a recent realization she was still parsing through. “But not right now.” Another pause, and a slight squeeze. “I’ve spent too long worried for all of you. Wanting to find everyone, and we still haven’t—“ She stopped.

“I’m glad you found me,” he said. “And with your good luck, it won’t be long until we find the others.” Until we find Minfilia.

He thought to wait until Aeryn was asleep again before adjusting to a more appropriate position— he was aware of exactly where her thigh was despite the innocence of their situation—but then her fingertips brushed his bare left cheek, startling him. “I just realized your bandana fell off.”

“It’s fine, didn’t mean to sleep with it on at all,” he muttered, reveling in the sensation of her fingers tracing along his cheekbone. Ever-caring, their Aeryn; she was simply helping him (again, a part of him hissed, a part he told to shut up) after so long on his own.

“No scarring; I thought you were injured?” she sounded like she wasn’t certain if she should be annoyed or not.

“Not physically, as such,” he answered. Her fingers ghosted over his eye, and there was an ever-so-slight bit of warmth and light; the only indication of magic used. He could no longer feel the shift in the aether, but he kept that annoying fact to himself.

“Aetheric damage,” she said, resting that hand on his shoulder.

“One does not traverse the Lifestream unscathed,” Thancred answered. “Even as a passenger.”

“Any pain?”

How to explain it? In the end, he simply said: “Not especially; eye strain headaches, hence keeping it covered most of the time. Nothing I can’t manage.”

“You try to manage much by yourself.”

He chuckled wryly at that. “But honestly, it’s mostly an inconvenience, I promise you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she replied.

“I don’t doubt that you shall.”

They faded off into sleep again, and this time there were no nightmares. Tomorrow they would dig themselves out and return to Ishgard, job done, and not speak of the details. Tonight, however, was friendly warmth and comfort while the storm raged outside.

#final fantasy xiv #lyn writing #lyn edits #YOTP 2023 #Thancred Waters #Thancred x WoL #Wolcred #Shippy Nonsense #Heavensward #Pre-relationship #Coerthas #Aeryn Striker #touch starved #how to deal with freezing temps #awkward conversations

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