Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was to be just another fight against a primal. No big deal.

Of course, this was coming from the Warrior of Light herself. She who felled the beasts left and right as often as most folk dealt with wolves or bears. These creatures, whom most mortals couldn’t even approach safely, let alone fight.

...It was probably just a matter of time before her attitude toward these battles caught up to her.

Wombat braced for impact, one hand against the cool metal of the Dragonkiller harpoon gun to support her. The great sky whale was noticeably stronger this time around, but she’d already pried some of its chitinous armor loose. She just needed one more clean shot at it, and--

Impact. The little island trembled underfoot, as it had each time prior. Wombat grabbed hold of the trigger mechanism to help regain her balance, launching the great chain in the process. It sailed in a wide arc, and she watched it hit home. One more to go, over at the other end of the island. Odd how no Vundu had leaped down to hinder her this time. Well, she wouldn’t take it for granted.

It wasn’t until she was halfway across that she noticed the long, jagged crack running the length of the island. Bismarck loosed one final bellow, tugged on the chain, straining--

Crack.

Where once there had been solid ground, now there were pebbles.

Time slowed down. She grasped for a handhold. It fell with her. She reached for her chocobo whistle, but the wind howled with sudden ferocity and sent her tumbling, wresting her final lifeline from her grasp.

She fell. The Sea of Clouds spread around, above, below her. Bismarck cried out somewhere above her, and lightning flashed.

Twelve help her. She was going to die.

---

“Gods damn it all! The island!”

“Cid, what are you doing? Getting too close to the primal risks subjecting us to its influence!”

“To hells with it, I’m not losing her!”

“Cid! For gods’ sake, can we think this through?!”

A hand fell on the engineer’s shoulder, doing far more to snap him out of his single-minded charge than Alphinaud’s frantic words. Cid looked up to find Thancred standing behind him, eye narrowed.

“He’s right.”

It was a long several seconds before Cid finally broke eye contact with an explosive swear and hauled the steering around. There was a collective sigh of relief from the other passengers.

“Alright, now that we’re a little more calm,” said Thancred, his voice sounding decidedly less than calm, “we can try to think of a plan before our dear friend plummets to her doom. Alphinaud?”

Though he was clearly rattled and unhappy with being put on the spot, the young Elezen stepped up to the plate with aplomb. “Ah… I’d say our best bet is to contact the Sky Pirates. According to Wombat, she’s had positive relations with them, and they might be willing to help.”

“That’s on you, then, boys,” said Cid, his gaze settling on Biggs and Wedge. “They’ve been buying up your Manacutters like crazy, right? Get in touch.”

“Can do, boss!” Wedge chirped. He and Biggs exchanged a determined nod and set about their communications equipment.

Alphinaud nodded, clearly feeling a little more confident now that a plan was in the works. “We should also have support on the ground, in case… in case…” He shook his head, unwilling or unable to finish the train of thought. “The knights of Ishgard ought to be able to help. I’ll have Tataru get us in touch with Ser Aymeric. I’m sure they must have some provision in place in the event of someone falling from Camp Cloudtop…”

“Let’s start by going to the camp itself,” Thancred suggested. “They’ll be the most immediately in the know about that.”

“Right.” Alphinaud reached for his linkpearl to contact Tataru, and Cid pointed the Excelsior’s prow toward Camp Cloudtop.

Thancred tried to suppress the sick feeling in his gut. He was starting to get really godsdamned tired of failing to protect people. But what more could he do, but go along with this plan? He stared out at the sky, at the cloud of dust that marked the remains of the island the Excelsior had been towing.

“Don’t die on me, Kipih,” he said quietly. “You’re too damned tough to die like this. Please...”

---

A small figure burst through the doors to Ser Aymeric’s office, followed by a rather flustered knight.

“M-my apologies, ser… I couldn’t stop her…”

Aymeric rose from his desk, the smile that had formed at Tataru’s antics fading as he saw the look on her face. “It’s alright, I know her. You may return to your post.”

The knight saluted and left. Aymeric quickly shifted his attention back to Tataru. “What happened?”

“I-it’s Wombat, she--” The Lalafell gesticulated frantically, struggling to get the words out.

“I know there were plans for her to fight the re-summoned Vanu Vanu primal,” said Aymeric. “Did… something happen?”

“She fell!” Tataru blurted out finally, looking close to tears. She held out her hands when Aymeric’s eyes widened, quickly amending her statement. “I-I mean, actually fell! From the island she was fighting Bismarck on!”

Aymeric’s heart descended from his throat, but his fear abated only slightly. “Then there is yet time.” He spoke firmly, but the slight tremor in his voice betrayed his nerves. “When did this happen? How long do we have?”

“U-um, Alphinaud contacted me right after… about five minutes ago. I ran straight here.”

“Halone preserve us,” Aymeric whispered. He took but a moment to gather himself and strode for the door. “Come with me. I’ll muster the knights and establish a search. We don’t have much time.”

---

Manacutters being a fairly recent invention, Thancred was shocked to see just how many of the contraptions buzzed through the sky around him. Had to be at least a dozen of them flitting between the islands.

As it turned out, Camp Cloudtop’s preparations were minimal at best, but they managed to scrounge up a sort of safety net. It was intended to be suspended between two airships, but it was far easier in this case to attach it to four of the agile little Manacutters and have them fly in formation. The search had yet to bear fruit, but they were ready for when it did. Thancred only hoped they weren’t too late.

A loud, piercing wail filled the air, echoing around the islands. Though he was nowhere in sight at the moment, the tension around the camp increased tangibly as Bismarck made himself known. The beast was in pain, that much was clear; the Warrior of Light had not gone down without leaving her mark. So far the beast had kept his distance from the search parties, but everyone knew it was just a matter of time.

Next to Thancred, sitting at a makeshift work table, Y’shtola and Krile studiously pored over… something. Thancred wasn’t fully clear on the details, but he knew they were seeking a way to track Wombat’s aether. It was most likely possible, based on what he’d seen; though the Miqo’te was already a skilled warrior, everything about her seemed to glow with competence when she fought primals. The Scions had long since theorized that Hydaelyn offered her some small divine intervention, giving her just a slight extra edge against the primals.

And they’d already learned that divine intervention was traceable.

“Is that it, then?” said Krile, leaning back.

“It should be.” Y’shtola peered into her aetherometer and looked around, her gaze gradually traveling to where the island was when it was destroyed. “Hmm! Thancred, could you confirm for me where she fell from?”

“You’re looking right at it,” he replied grimly. “‘Twas right around there. You’ve got something, then?”

“Aye. A clear trail.” She stood, still looking through the eyepiece, and approached the edge of the camp’s island. She scanned the sky for a few seconds, then tilted her head. “Well, that’s odd. Her trail does indeed fall a ways, but then… around there,” she pointed, “it starts moving horizontally again. Did she catch herself on something…?”

Thancred stared at the spot indicated, trying to call on the image in his mind. If… she fell there, and the thrice-damned whale was around there, with the Dragonkiller chain hanging like that…

“...I need a Manacutter,” he said quickly.

“Oh? Off on a joyride, are we?” Y’shtola’s words teased, but as he turned to give her a sharp look he could tell that she understood. “You do realize how foolhardy this is, right? If you’re wrong, you’ll needlessly subject yourself to primal influence.”

“True,” Thancred admitted. “But… I have to wonder. With my aether… compromised, perhaps the effect won’t be so strong?”

Y’shtola frowned. “It's equally likely that it leaves you more susceptible. We don’t exactly have any evidence one way or the other. It’s a gamble.”

“One that I don’t intend to lose.” Before he could let her talk him out of it, Thancred stalked off toward where the engineers were huddled.

---

“Everyone’s in position?”

The linkpearl echoed a series of affirmatives. Alphinaud bit his lip. “Very well. The primal was last spotted near Ok’ Gundu, heading north. Proceed.”

Back in Camp Cloudtop, there was little he could do but watch and wait, coordinating the teams to the best of his ability. Thancred was convinced, based on Y’shtola’s data and his own observations, that their friend had managed to catch herself on the primal; Alphinaud was inclined to agree.

However, assuming that this was the case, it left them in a very sticky spot. Any dealings with a primal brought with them the risk of falling under the beast’s sway. The entire reason that only Wombat and, on occasion, fellow Echo-gifted warriors were sent to fight primals was to avoid the issue entirely.

If Thancred was wrong about his hunch, the Scions would lose two of their best in one fell swoop. Alphinaud dearly hoped it didn’t come to that.

Beside him, Krile sighed dejectedly. “Ah, love… it makes fools of us all. I pray this works…”

Alphinaud glanced questioningly at her, but she simply shook her head.

“Ah-- it’s nothing. I’m just worried.”

“As are we all,” said Alphinaud wearily. “As are we all.”

---

Bismarck was… a lot bigger up close. The ugly purple sore where Wombat had pried the primal’s armored plating loose looked tiny from here. Thancred and the other Manacutter pilots kept pace with the beast, well over a malm out and watching carefully.

“Alright, one more time,” said Thancred. He was grateful for the linkshell saving him from shouting over the wind. “I go in as close as I dare, find her, and snag her with this tether.” He once again checked that the loop of rope was still there. “You lot stay nearby, about a malm below us, just in case.”

“Aye,” replied one of the pirates. “We’ll catch you, no need to worry.”

“Well, there’s plenty of reason to worry, but thank you anyway.” Thancred angled his vessel toward the primal. “Here goes.”

Small as the Manacutter was, Bismarck actually didn’t seem to notice him. He carefully circled around, away from the primal’s eye, hoping to keep it that way.

At the same time, he scanned constantly along the primal’s back, searching for a splash of purple. It was harder than expected, particularly given the distracting purple of the primal’s wound, and the blood oozing from where the Dragonkiller harpoon still stuck in its side. He’d have thought the endearingly monochromatic warrior would stand out more against all these pale colors.

Hold on. As he drew closer, he noted an irregularity in the round blister on Bismarck’s back. No… not an irregularity. A person.

A Miqo’te! Immediately, Thancred turned toward the sore, readying the tether. It looked like she was unconscious, wedged between the angry purple flesh and the remaining chitin around the wound. Disgusting, yes, but arguably safe. As safe as one could be when on the back of a bloody primal, anyway.

It would be a tricky throw… so far so good, but he didn’t dare get much closer. Making sure the Manacutter was on a stable course, Thancred let go of the controls and stood to take aim. A little closer… a little closer…

There! He threw the looped end of the rope, and grinned as he saw it settle neatly around her torso. Perfect!

He tugged lightly. Wombat didn’t budge. He tugged again. The whale bellowed.

Shit.

Though Bismarck’s course remained the same, Thancred was all too aware of the stormclouds that immediately began gathering around him. Right… he’d seen the damn thing doing this during its struggle with Wombat, too. Thancred swore and grasped the controls, speeding up and ascending, trying to outpace the clouds.

The rope in his hand went taut as he went, and he was forced to change his course. He needed to pull her free, but he didn’t want to harm her in the process if he could avoid it. He glanced over the side, judged his angle, and gunned it.

With him no longer trying to pull against the chitin Wombat was tucked up against, she finally came free. Thancred quickly drew in the excess line, letting out a relieved sigh as he grasped her hand at last. Good; he could get the hells out of here now. The damned primal could wait.

Then he was blinded as his world went white, and an electric shock ran through him. He hissed, managed to keep his grip on Wombat, and noticed through watering eyes that they were losing altitude. The damned lightning had hit the engine dead-on!

“Looks like I’ll be needing that safety net after all,” he muttered. Best to abandon ship at this point…

The falling Manacutter cleared the clouds, offering Thancred a clear view of Bismarck some ways below him. The purple pustule stood out like a glowing target on the primal’s back… and he slowly grinned.

“Well, one stupid idea deserves another,” he said cheerfully, quickly tying a loop of rope around himself so he needn’t worry about losing his grip. He grabbed the ailing craft’s steering, and quietly thanked the Twelve that it still worked. The prow slowly came about until it pointed straight at Bismarck’s open wound. The trajectory set, Thancred left the craft to its course, wrapped his arms around the unconscious Miqo’te, and jumped.

It was a little surreal, falling through the relatively quiet air in a strange sort of serenity as he watched. The Manacutter flew true right to the end, sailing directly into Bismarck’s weak point. The primal shrieked and convulsed, its death throes growing only more frantic as the Manacutter exploded.

The air was, quite suddenly, far less serene. The dying primal set the weather to a frenzy, and even just its thrashing sent mighty gusts of wind tearing across the sky. One moment, Thancred saw the safety net stretched invitingly out directly below him. The next, the wind grabbed him in its merciless clutches and threw him far.

By the time he managed to regain his senses, he could barely see the islands any more, let alone the little fleet of Manacutters. He was glad of the rope, at least; he’d lost his grip on Wombat, but she was still right here with him.

Right with him, plummeting from gods-knew how high up.

Fantastic.

---

It was a long way to Dravania, but fortunately Aymeric knew the way. He’d left Lucia in charge of the knights back in Ishgard, and brought Artoirel and a pair of carefully selected knights with him for the sake of having someone reliable at his back. He’d thought to go alone, but… Lucia wouldn’t hear of it. As usual, she had the right of it.

They stopped for just a moment in Tailfeather, long enough to be sure they could fend off inevitable Gnath attacks on the way to Anyx Trine. Aymeric’s linkpearl sounded, and he was immediately alert.

“Lord Commander.”

“Lucia. What news?”

“Trouble. The primal is dead, but in the process the rescue party lost sight of both Thancred and Wombat.”

Aymeric was on his feet in an instant. “Then we haven’t a moment to lose. Thank you, Lucia. Keep me updated.”

“Of course.”

He barely waited long enough to ensure that the others were following before taking off down the path. In his urgency, the Gnath that tried to bar his way were cut down with hardly a thought. He had more important matters to attend to.

The journey to Anyx Trine, usually one that would take the better part of a bell, was covered in under half that. Aymeric and the others were breathing hard when they arrived, but he forced himself to press on. Behind him, he heard Artoirel bidding the knights remain at the entrance before following.

He emerged onto the second floor of the massive building, prompting the dragons within to look up sharply. He struggled to catch his breath, leaning against the wall for a moment before he recovered sufficiently to enter the room. He spotted the ones he sought at the other side of the room, the siblings with gleaming white scales, and hastened over.

“Vedrfolnir,” he greeted breathlessly, “Vidofnir.”

“Greetings, mortal,” echoed Vidofnir’s voice in his head. “What troubles you so?”

“My friends,” he said. “They’re in danger. I need your help.”

Vedrfolnir rose to his feet and stretched, offering Aymeric a nod. “Very well. What would you have us do?”

---

Wombat wasn’t quite sure what she’d been expecting to see when she regained consciousness. Some grim part of her mind thought she may not regain consciousness at all. The one thing she was certain of, though…

She definitely hadn’t expected this.

Her mind still in something of a haze, it took her a moment to register the sights around her. All she knew was that she felt oddly weightless, and that there was something wrapped tightly around her torso.

Slowly, everything came into focus, and Wombat’s mind seized. She felt weightless because she was falling. Again. This time, she could see the ground, though it was yet malms below.

As for what was wrapped around her… it was a pair of arms, clutching her tightly. It took her only a moment to recognize who it was. The thin ponytail whipping in the wind, the ends of a dark green sash, that familiar scent…

Hesitantly, she brought her arms up to encircle him. He tensed for a moment in surprise, and then let out a sigh.

“...Thancred…?”

“Kipih… I’m sorry.”

She said nothing. What could she say? She could only assume there had been a rescue attempt, given his presence and the rope she now noticed around her torso. Clearly, it hadn’t gone to plan. So what now?

The ground was closer than when she’d last looked. This time, she didn’t have anything at all to grasp onto, no last-ditch plans. Instead, she clutched Thancred tighter.

“...I’m sorry too,” she said quietly.

She felt him smile against her neck. “Well,” he said, “at least I get to go out in style.”

“What do you mean?”

“I crashed a Manacutter into Bismarck in order to kill him.”

Wombat thought on that for a moment. “Not my Manacutter, I hope?”

“No, no, it was a rental. Can’t imagine the Redbills are thrilled, though.”

In spite of everything, she smiled. “You crazy bastard.”

They fell silent after that, just holding on. The cruel inevitability and the even crueler wait was torturous, but at least they had each other.

...Whoosh…

Wombat’s ears pricked up. Was that…?

...Whoosh…

She raised her head. She could hear something over the wind whipping past her ears, a rhythmic sort of sound. She couldn’t get a good look around, but she was sure of it now.

“Thancred, do you hear--?”

She didn’t get to finish. Something large suddenly interposed itself between them and the distant ground, dipping down just far enough as they landed on it to spare them injury. Wombat still found herself winded from the impact, even as she felt them gain altitude once more.

Neither of them seemed willing to let go of their embrace; fortunately, a third pair of arms grasped hold of them before they could tumble to the side. Finally willing to believe that this was real, Wombat blinked and looked around.

The first thing she saw was glistening white scales and a long, elegant neck. A dragon. Vidofnir…? No, too spiky. Vedrfolnir, then. Slowly, hesitantly, she untangled herself from Thancred, and he did the same.

“Thank the Fury we got here in time.”

At the familiar voice, Wombat looked up and met Aymeric’s cool blue gaze. His smile spoke volumes of his fear, and especially his relief.

“Are… are we on a dragon…?” Thancred sat up slowly, relying heavily on Aymeric’s grip to remain steady. “Well… that’s a new one.”

“Aymeric,” Wombat said gratefully. She brought her hand up to rest on the one carefully gripping her arm, and gave it a squeeze. “You… you saved us.”

“Full glad I am that I did,” he said. “Are you unhurt?”

That was a good question, actually. She frowned thoughtfully, taking mental notes on her condition. “Hm. Mostly, I think. Ah-- Mmh, think I strained my arm catching hold of that chain, and one of those Vundu managed to nick my other arm…”

“I’m just a little shaken, really,” said Thancred, offering his own answer. “Not every day you kill a primal and then fall malms and malms through the sky.” He shook his head, then looked at Aymeric with a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“Please,” said Aymeric, shaking his head. “It’s the dragons you should thank. Vedrfolnir, Vidofnir, and a few of the others from Anyx Trine all came out to search for you after I told them what happened. Admittedly, I’m… I’m glad that it was Vedrfolnir and I who found you.”

Wombat smiled, fighting back the tears that formed in response to a simple overflow of emotion. “As am I.” She threw her arms around Aymeric, trying not to take too much delight in his little noise of surprise.

What she didn’t expect was for Thancred to follow suit, his arms encircling her, making her feel safe again. Finally seeming to accept the situation, Aymeric returned the embrace as well.

The rumble of Vedrfolnir’s voice interrupted them, though he sounded somewhat reluctant to break up the moment. "We are nearing Falcon’s Nest. I’ll see that you are safe, then find my sister and the others and return to Anyx Trine.”

Aymeric extricated himself and sat up straight once more. “Thank you, Vedrfolnir. We are in your debt.”

“Nay. You and yours restored the peace we so longed for, impossible though it seemed. To aid in this rescue was the least we could do.”

Deprived of Aymeric, Wombat instead turned and hugged Vedrfolnir’s neck. “Thank you for saving my life. It… would have been a pretty embarrassing way to go.”

“Aye, felled not by a primal but the cold ground,” Thancred joked grimly. “I certainly didn’t expect to be rescued by a dragon, but this is one surprise I’m more than happy to accept. Thank you.”

The dragon chuckled warmly, and began his descent. The sight of all her friends gathered in the town square, waiting anxiously, brought a smile to her weary face.

She took both Thancred and Aymeric’s hands as Vedrfolnir landed, and carefully slid from his back together with them. Her and Thancred both found their legs almost giving out at the sudden demand, but Vedrfolnir steadied them with a wing at their backs. Aymeric placed himself between them so he could support them both, and they walked together toward their assembled friends.

Wombat waved with her free hand, letting out a tired laugh. “I think I could do with a nap.”

“Aye,” Thancred agreed. “And a drink or three.”

Aymeric laughed. “Once you’ve both rested, why don’t we all share a drink? I’d say you’ve more than earned it.”

Letting her hand fall to her side, Wombat let out a quiet sigh. “That sounds… nice. Yes, I think I’d like nothing more.” She smiled gently. “It’s a date, then.”

She thought she heard Thancred make some kind of noise on Aymeric’s other side, but it was probably just her imagination.

Chapter Text

Primals, Ascians, warriors who claimed to hail from another world…

Ser Aymeric felt very much out of his depth, standing beside the Warrior of Light and listening in on the Scions’ conversation. As all-encompassing as the Dragonsong War had been, and as much as he’d been through these past moons, it was still nothing compared to what he was hearing now.

At the very least, he could understand the emotions that ran quick beneath the surface of the problem. Escalation based on fear, the threat of oblivion…

Alisaie paused in her speech to glance at Aymeric, her topic wandering close to his purview. “...With their patron deities being slain left and right, the news of man’s victory over Nidhogg must surely have sown panic in the minds of the beastmen. ‘Tis no wonder they wish to defend themselves.”

...Of course. Aymeric let his gaze drop to the floor, a dark expression on his face. It all rang a little too familiar. “Power answered with greater power. Death, with more death. A vicious cycle fueled by fear and hatred,” he said somberly. An image flashed across his mind, the memory of his dear friend subsumed by the terrible wyrm’s power. The memory of the vile threat, the promise of revenge. Aymeric shook his head to banish the demons. “...I know its like all too well.”

A hand on his arm drew his attention, and he glanced to the side to see a familiar splash of purple. The wide, concerned eyes of the Warrior of Light-- his dear friend-- gazed up at him.

He couldn’t help but smile appreciatively at her, an expression she quickly mirrored. It was with great reluctance that Aymeric tore his gaze away. He could get lost in those eyes, in that smile. He couldn’t let that happen. No, for her sake, for the sake of her and Thancred’s happiness together, he was glad to set his own feelings aside. She had already sacrificed more than enough for his cause, after all.

He turned his attention back to Alisaie, who was busy explaining what they'd learned of the Ascians’ plan. It seemed they aimed to manipulate the beastmen into worshipping their dark god. To think, the slaying of beastman primals had only ever furthered their goals…

Thancred was next to share information, his and Alisaie’s recent findings. Aymeric couldn’t help noticing the way Wombat watched him as he did so. There was a deep fondness and great admiration there, a love born of being equals.

Thancred spoke of a flow of crystals to the beast tribes, of how it was all set up by the Ascians. Aymeric refocused; this, he could help with.

“If we sever these supply lines,” Thancred concluded with a grin, “we should at least be able to slow the escalation.”

Y’shtola nodded curtly. “Agreed. Krile and I shall journey to Xelphatol and learn what we can of the Ixals’ source.

Seeing his opportunity to finally contribute, Aymeric spoke up. “Then I for my part pledge to lead a similar investigation into the origin of the Gnath supply.”

Alphinaud, standing beside him, looked up with a surprised expression. “Ser Aymeric?”

“As a member of the Eorzean Alliance, Ishgard is honor-bound to play an active role in maintaining the security of the realm,” he replied smoothly. The noble words flowed easily through practice, but were backed by his sincerest belief in their truth. Now that he’d finally succeeded in joining his people with the Alliance, it was high time he act on it. Of course, there was also the other matter. “...You might also say that I have some personal motivation, given the Ascians’ dealings with my father." He grimaced. "However, I make no secret of the fact that my knowledge of primal beings is scant, at best. As such, I should be most grateful if one of your order were to assist me.”

He expected his request to be met by Alphinaud, or -- and he had to admit to himself, he very much hoped for this outcome -- the Warrior of Light herself. He was surprised when Thancred was the one to step forward, offering an easy smile.

“Allow me, Ser Aymeric. I have dealt with the Gnath before.”

The warmth in Thancred’s voice was unexpected, but not at all unwelcome. Aymeric smiled and gave him an affirmative nod. He knew of the Scion rogue’s accomplishments, and would most certainly be glad of the reliable backup.

Alphinaud, meanwhile, was quick to claim Wombat for his own investigation, one which Alisaie insisted on joining as well. The teams decided, everyone save Alisaie and Tataru dispersed to begin their preparations.

Wombat caught Aymeric's arm on the way out of the building, offered him an apologetic smile. “Sorry our evening got interrupted so suddenly yesterday… it was nice, though. Maybe we can pick up where we left off sometime?”

Aymeric felt his heart flutter in his chest, but forced himself to reply calmly. “I’d like nothing more. Perhaps once all this business is settled?”

The small Miqo’te grinned and nodded her affirmation, then trotted off to find Alphinaud. Aymeric watched her go, trying to ignore the twisting in his gut. She was a wonderful woman, and the Warrior of Light besides. It would have been folly to think she didn’t already have her choice of attractive suitors. At the very least, Aymeric could take solace in the knowledge that she did consider him a true friend, a feeling which was very much mutual. He dared not ask for more.

“Ah, Ser Aymeric. I wasn’t sure if you’d still be here.”

Aymeric turned to see Thancred, standing behind him with an amused smile. “Ah-- Master Thancred.” He quickly regained his composure, determinedly ignoring the awkward moment. “I was just considering which knights to bring along…”

Thancred looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head. “Pray, don’t concern yourself with that. Just the two of us should suffice, I think.”

“Really?”

“Aye. The Gnath are tricky-- they’re connected by what they call the Onemind, you see. If one of them spots you, they all know you’re there. Once you have the whole hive coming down upon you, it doesn’t much matter how many men are at your back.”

“I see.” Aymeric frowned thoughtfully. “In that case, I’ll have Lucia send a small unit to Tailfeather to gather information from the hunters. And while they do that...”

“...We go on ahead and investigate the Gnath.” Thancred smacked a fist into his other hand, grinning. “Very good! I’ll go on ahead and make arrangements with the chocobokeeps, then. Join me by the gate to West Coerthas once you’re ready.”

Aymeric nodded, unable to help returning the smile. It was certainly easy to see why Wombat was so fond of the man. Quickly marshalling his thoughts, Aymeric turned and re-entered the Congregation, intent on finding Lucia.

---

There were some few things that needed to be arranged for Aymeric’s absence, but with the help of his second-in-command he was able to make the rendezvous with Thancred not too long after they parted.

“My apologies,” he said as he approached. “My duties make it rather difficult to move about freely.”

“Think nothing of it. It allowed me more time to think on our strategy, at the very least.” Thancred pushed off the wall he’d been leaning against and indicated the pair of black chocobos waiting patiently beyond the gate. “Shall we?”

“Indeed.” Aymeric fell in step besides Thancred as they passed through the gate. Some part of him thrilled at the chance to leave the city and the politics behind, even if only for a short time. He loved his nation, with all his heart, but… his thoughts wandered back to the night before, when he was enjoying dinner and conversation with Wombat. She’d invited him to join her on her adventures, and for just a moment he’d allowed himself the pure joy of the idea. But all too quickly, his obligations drew him back down to the earth. With his appointment to the House of Lords, he was all but anchored to Ishgard for the foreseeable future.

On some level, it felt like a betrayal of sorts. He’d fought so hard for his homeland to find the truth and stability it so deserved, yet he was all too eager to abandon his responsibility to maintain it.

Well… at least he could savor what adventure he could find. He mounted his chocobo, and tried to hide his grin as they took flight.

---

They flew in silence for a time; Aymeric was content to simply enjoy the feeling of flight, while Thancred appeared lost in thought. It was amazing, Aymeric mused, that they could already see the beacon high above Falcon’s Nest despite both the distance and light snow.

Thancred abruptly cleared his throat, drawing Aymeric from his thoughts. Seeing he had Aymeric’s attention, he offered a mischievous smirk and spoke. “Ser Aymeric, do you mind if I ask you something somewhat… personal?”

Aymeric tilted his head, unsure what Thancred could mean. “Ah… I suppose not. What is it?”

A more serious expression came over Thancred’s face, and he returned his attention to the path ahead. “It’s about Wombat.”

“Wombat?” Aymeric felt his stomach lurch lightly. The rogue wasn’t the jealous type, was he? Even so, Aymeric was very clear about not letting his feelings run off with him…

Seeing that Aymeric wasn’t likely to respond further, Thancred continued. “Aye. We really ought to figure out what we’re going to do about this.”

“I…” Aymeric trailed off, a denial of his feelings dying on his tongue. Thancred was very perceptive, by necessity of his profession. He’d likely known of Aymeric’s feelings for the Warrior of Light from the moment they met. Aymeric sighed. “I apologize. I cannot help the way I feel, but… as I’ve already told her, I’ve no intention of coming between you and she. Your love for one another is clear, and I am glad to set aside mine own feelings for the sake of yours.”

“Hm,” Thancred hummed thoughtfully. Aymeric couldn’t quite tell if his response had come as a surprise or not. Either way, Thancred shrugged. “How very noble of you. You know that saying things of that nature is only going to make her fall for you harder, yes?”

It was fortunate that Aymeric was on chocoboback, because if he’d been relying on his own legs to remain upright he might have collapsed on the spot. “Wha-- fall for… what do you mean?”

Thancred actually looked surprised. “You… really didn’t know?” He grinned and shook his head in amusement. “Well, that figures, doesn’t it? Yes, she returns your feelings, quite possibly in full. She’s caught in the midst of two sets of requited love. Quite the conundrum.”

Aymeric gaped. “I… had no idea.”

“Clearly.”

Attempting to compose himself, Aymeric coughed quietly. “W-well… My only wish is for her to be happy. Gods know with how much she’s been through, she deserves that much.”

Thancred’s amused smirk gave way to a genuine smile. “I was rather hoping you’d say that.” He nodded, looking rather pleased with himself. “Now that we’re on the same page, I believe the best course of action would be to have a conversation with the three of us.”

Aymeric nodded slowly. “Yes… I agree. Doubtless it will be a difficult conversation, but a necessary one.”

“Aye.” Thancred turned his gaze toward the beacon, its tower now discernible in the mist. “We’ve a little time yet before we reach the town; might I suggest you take the chance to gather yourself?”

“I… yes. Quite right.” Aymeric sighed. He resolved to blame his flushed cheeks on the biting cold.

---

A brief stopover in Falcon’s Nest allowed their birds to rest for a time. The pair then paid a visit to the Convictory to check on the Vath’s trading habits, among other things. Though not worshippers of the primal Ravana, the bug-like Vath-- outcasts of the Onemind-- had developed a network of trade and favors that would prove useful to the investigation.

As Thancred interviewed the commanding officers in the little outpost, some unusual behavior from a few other knights caught Aymeric’s eye. Some seemed a little too eager to head out on patrol, and another was keeping his distance from the interlopers. Aymeric said nothing, but took mental note. Many of the knights here were discontent, desperate to kill a dragon to attain some scrap of honor or status; with the Dragonsong war over, Aymeric suspected some were turning to… alternative employment.

He touched a finger to his linkpearl as they left. A whispered word to Lucia ensured that the matter would not go unresolved.

---

The Dravanian Forelands were by no means home to a warm climate, but even just the slight rise in temperature from Coerthas’s eternal winter was very welcome indeed. They left their chocobos in Tailfeather, deeming it best to travel the rest of the way on foot. Aside from anything else, the birds would be well taken care of here, and well out of danger. While their first stop would hopefully not be a dangerous one, it was best to be careful.

The main road was rife with scattered Gnath patrols, but Thancred’s expert guidance through the wilderness allowed the pair to avoid confrontation. They came across occasional aggressive wildlife, but two highly trained fighters could make quick work of any beasts. As Thancred had pointed out before, the greatest danger they faced was alerting the Gnath Onemind to their presence prematurely.

It took some time, but Thancred and Aymeric finally arrived in Loth ast Vath, home of the “Nonmind,” as the Vath called themselves. Their recently formed Adventurer’s Guild was clearly flourishing, though with the sun beginning to set, most clients were on their way out.

One of the Vath approached, distinguished from the rest by the color of the scarf draped across its frame; teal, rather than others’ dark green. It clicked its mandibles eagerly when it spotted Thancred. “Ah, I recognize this one!” Click-click. “You are Master’s companion! Welcome, welcome.” Click-click. “What brings you to Loth ast Vath?”

“Ah,” Thancred seemed a little put off by the wording, but gamely hid the reaction away. “The Deftarm, I presume? I’ve heard much and more of your exploits. We were hoping to ask a few questions.”

“Master speaks well of me?” The Deftarm tapped his fingers together happily, his mandibles clicking in excitement. “I am glad. Yes, very glad. We have worked hard to improve our Adventurer’s Guild.” Click-click. “We are no longer parasites who must live off the Onemind. We owe much to my master.” Click-click. “Yes, very much.”

Foreign though the beastman was, Aymeric found himself charmed by his manner of speech and his earnestness. “It would seem our Warrior of Light is only too happy to improve lives wheresoever she goes, regardless of recognition or reward.”

“Aye, she has a knack for it.” Thancred chuckled. “Even now, with all her fame and glory, I still see her stopping to help smallfolk cart manure to their farms. I’ve seldom met such a full-blooded adventurer.”

The Deftarm tilted his head, tapping absently at the top of the wide, flattened shell. “She does tedious work with no complaint. It is hard to emulate. Yes, very hard.” He clicked his mandibles, seemingly frustrated at some memory. “When I complained, she told me that adventuring is not about excitement and glory.” Click-click. “...Then she told me to pick up the damned rock.”

Aymeric couldn’t suppress a laugh at that. “That does sound like her, yes.”

“Ah, if I may,” Thancred interjected, though by his smirk it was clear that he too was amused by the anecdote. “We actually came with a purpose. Perchance your Guild may be of assistance to us?”

The Deftarm’s clicking took on a more eager tempo. “Yes, of course! You spoke of questions earlier.” He tapped at his head again as his mandibles clicked. “...I forgot.” He lowered his arm and nodded. “What do you wish to know? We will be happy to help. Yes, very happy.”

Before either of the men could reply, a commotion by the gates drew the attention of everyone present. The Vath guard barely had the chance to step aside before they swung open, admitting an armored figure gasping for breath. Aymeric was at their side in an instant, noting that the stranger was a Hyuran woman clad in Ishgardian mail.

Thancred approached, though he hung back a few yalms. “What happened?”

She looked up, panting. “Th-the path… my comrades…”

“Easy, now,” said Aymeric calmly. He quickly took stock of the knight’s condition and found no obvious injuries. Satisfied that she needed only to rest for now, he gently lowered her to sit against the wall. “You’ll be fine. What of your comrades?”

“An ambush,” she gasped. “On the road…”

After checking her over again, Aymeric looked back toward Thancred. “She’s uninjured… She should be fine here while we go to check the scene.”

Thancred crossed his arms, regarding the woman thoughtfully. Finally, he nodded, returning his gaze to Aymeric. “Go on ahead, Ser Aymeric. I will check the surrounding woods. Fear not; I’ll be along soon enough.”

Aymeric nodded to the Scion and turned to go. He made it a few steps out from the village before the sound of skittering footfalls approached from behind. He paused, turning to see the Deftarm quickly catching up.

“Something is not right.” Click-click. “The knights from the Convictory came to trade earlier today. I cannot think of why they would be here now.”

“Is that so…” Aymeric resumed walking, frowning as he recalled his suspicions back at the Convictory. “I have my doubts as well. Will you accompany me, Deftarm?”

“Yes!” Click-click. “I am an adventurer; to let you go alone into danger would go against who I am.”

Such conviction… Aymeric smiled, recalling how fondly Wombat spoke of the Vath whenever they came up in conversation. “Good! If Wombat trusts in your abilities, then I shall as well. I should be glad of your help.”

The Deftarm clicked eagerly. “Your trust will not be misplaced!” He paused as they emerged from the entrance tunnel, mandibles tapping quietly as he cast about for any sign of commotion.

Aymeric looked around as well, but didn’t see any obvious trouble. “Hmm… let’s check the way toward the forest first. If they truly are come from the Convictory, they would have been traveling that way.”

“Yes, this is true.” The Deftarm started down the path, clicking thoughtfully. “An ambush is more likely there, too. More places to hide.”

Well aware of the growing sense of ominousness, Aymeric strode quickly after the Deftarm.

It wasn’t long before they entered the outskirts of the forest. The trees were smaller here, their roots somewhat less cavernously spread. As they rounded a bend, a figure lying on the worn road ahead came into view. Aymeric picked up his pace, recognizing the Ishgardian garb.

He knelt down at the knight’s side, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. The man yet breathed, and there was no sign of injury… With a light pull, he rolled the prone figure toward him, and realization dawned. Aymeric recognized this man’s face; he was one of the knights who’d been acting suspiciously back at the Convictory.

No sooner had Aymeric reached his conclusion than the knight’s eyes snapped open and his face took on a vicious grin.

“Now! ”

Aymeric quickly pulled away, only for his wrist to be grabbed by the treacherous knight. Aymeric grunted and wrenched himself free, just in time to avoid the knife that flashed in the knight’s other hand.

In an instant, Naegling was in his hand, the gleaming blue blade flashing in the dappled light. Aymeric fell into a defensive position beside the Deftarm and took stock of their surroundings. Four, five… six knights. Two with bows, three with lances, and the one in the road with a sword and shield. Not great odds, but he’d faced worse.

Behind him, the Deftarm held his musket at the ready, clearly doing a similar analysis. He clicked agitatedly. “There are many of them... Master has won many such fights before, but I am not sure I can do the same.”

Aymeric was already forming a plan. “The archers are our greatest threat; I’ll get in close where they’re less effective. Keep the others off me as best you can for now, and focus on the lancers.”

With a nod from the Deftarm to confirm the hasty plan, Aymeric lunged. Naegling’s broad blade served to block arrows as he rushed in and swung in a wide arc. One of the archers managed to dance out of the sword’s range, but the other was caught off guard by the aggressive approach. Aymeric’s blade struck true, cleaving through the knight’s armor and dropping him on the spot.

A lancer approached from Aymeric’s right, but a gun’s report rang out and the woman staggered. Another shot glanced off her armor, and the knight was forced to refocus her attention. Satisfied that the Deftarm still had him covered, Aymeric spun to face the surviving archer. She’d already managed to recover, and had a drawn arrow pointed straight at Aymeric’s head. Aymeric ducked aside just in time, hissing as the arrow grazed his cheek.

This archer appeared to be more experienced than the first; recognizing that she wouldn’t have time to draw again, she dropped her bow and drew a hunting knife from her belt. Forced to change his approach, Aymeric halted his momentum and leaned back to avoid a lightning-fast strike. He backed up a step to avoid another slash, eyed the knife’s motions, and then lunged. The flat of his sword neatly deflected the knight’s attack on its way to plunge into her chest.

Good; the archers were dealt with. Now for…

“Guh… Fleshling! Help!”

Aymeric’s attention snapped to the Deftarm. One of the lancers had fallen before him, but the others had flipped Aymeric’s plan back on them; one of them was too close in for the Deftarm to effectively fight with his ranged arm, forcing him to defend and preventing him from getting a clear shot on the other lancer. In the meantime, the sword-wielding knight had circled around behind, and Aymeric could see viscous insectoid blood oozing from a wound on the Deftarm’s side.

The sword-wielder was already winding up to attack again. There was no time to close the distance. Aymeric sheathed Naegling and scooped up the abandoned bow from the ground. He drew a breath and held it as he drew the string back, and took careful aim.

The knight raised his sword arm to strike a killing blow, and Aymeric’s arrow found its mark. As the knight exposed the less armored area under his arm, the arrow sunk deep and sent him reeling. Aymeric didn’t wait to see if he went down, but snatched up a second arrow and took the lancer closest to the Deftarm in the neck.

Seizing the opportunity, the Deftarm brought his firearm to bear on the remaining lancer and fired several shots in succession. The knight staggered and dropped to one knee, blood oozing from between his armor plating.

Aymeric let himself breathe again, taking stock of the scene once more. Four dead and two wounded on the enemy side; but then again, with the hit the Deftarm took, they weren’t in much better shape. Still… while the sword-wielding knight slowly recovered and the grounded lancer tried to find his feet, they had time. The Deftarm swiftly reloaded his weapon with motions that proved his name an apt one, and Aymeric reached down to gather more arrows.

A twig snapped behind him, and that was all the warning he got before something smashed into his back, hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Aymeric was thrown to the ground, bow and arrows both knocked from his hands. He spent a moment struggling to get his breath back before rolling to one side-- just out of the way of an armored boot. Another knight sneered down at him, this one carrying himself with an air of confidence and authority that set him apart from the rest. He carried a sword and shield, the latter of which Aymeric quickly placed as what he’d been hit with.

Gunshots rang out from the other side of the road as the Deftarm once more engaged the wounded knights, telling Aymeric that there would be no aid from there.

So be it; he’d dealt with worthier foes in worse circumstances.

The knight attacked, and Aymeric barely managed to get his sword between himself and the knight’s blade. Carrying the motion through, Aymeric planted Naegling’s tip in the ground and pushed himself back to his feet. The knight lunged again, and Aymeric smoothly sidestepped it. He ended up behind his foe, and took the opportunity to strike back.

Unexpectedly, the knight actually managed to parry in time. Whereas the others had proven to be the sort of malcontents Aymeric expected from traitorous Convictory knights, this man was clearly an experienced warrior. Why then, would he throw in his lot with Ascians and beastmen?

Perhaps he’d have the chance to ask later. For the moment, it mattered not.

The swordsmen circled one another, slow and calculating, searching for openings. It was as much about wits as martial prowess now. The knight feinted with his blade, but Aymeric noticed movement from the knight’s shield arm and sidestepped an attempt to bash him. He jabbed at the knight’s leg with his sword, at last scoring a clean hit when the knight failed to move his shield in time.

Aymeric swiftly distanced himself once more, watching as his opponent staggered. He had the advantage now, but he still needed to be careful; one should never assume a wounded enemy to be helpless.

Suddenly, a sharp cry from Aymeric’s left drew his attention. Both of the Deftarm’s opponents lay motionless, but an arrow now sprouted from his back. Impossible… both of the archers were down! More reinforcements…?

Before Aymeric could further process this development, thudding footsteps drew him back to his own battle. The knight was ignoring his injury to charge full-tilt at his distracted opponent. Aymeric hastily brought his sword up to block, but the move was predictable. The knight easily deflected Naegling to the side with his shield, leaving Aymeric wide open. He hastily backpedaled, managing to save himself from worse than a shallow cut across his midsection. The force of the blow knocked him onto his back, however, and the knight was quick to advance and plant his boot on Aymeric’s chest.

As he struggled to escape the pin, Aymeric spied movement in the trees across the road. Several figures emerged from the woods, all wielding bows and grinning wickedly. It took only a moment for Aymeric to recognize them as the band of poachers that had been plaguing Tailfeather of late. Off to one side, he could see the Deftarm lying motionless, and could only pray that the Vath was merely unconscious.

Halone preserve him… he’d expected trouble, but this… he cursed the lack of foresight that prevented him from anticipating the poachers’ involvement.

The knight leveled his sword at Aymeric’s neck, smirking. “Any last words, oh mighty Lord Commander?”

Aymeric hissed out a breath through his teeth. “...Why?”

The knight scoffed. “Why what? Why accept a sum greater than what I’ve earned in all my years as an honorable knight? Why kill the bastard who flipped the whole world upside-down on me? I dunno, maybe I just bloody felt like it, eh?”

Aymeric grimaced. Even after all they’d worked for…

A shadow darted between the trees across the road, drawing Aymeric’s eye.

“What? What the hells’re you looking at? Think someone’s gonna save you?”

Aymeric felt the cold touch of steel against his throat, and his breath caught.

Behind the knight, one of the poachers fell dead, a throwing knife protruding from her skull.

Those nearby turned to look, but their cries of alarm were silenced as, one by one, the shadow in the trees cut them down. The last one managed half of a scream before he, too, fell.

The sound drew the knight’s attention, his sword drawing back from Aymeric’s neck as he turned to look. “What the--”

And then, as if from thin air, Thancred appeared before him. Startled, the knight staggered back, finally freeing Aymeric to roll away and catch his breath.

Thancred was a blur, easily dodging and blocking the knight’s attacks as if they were in slow motion. He ducked under an edge-on strike from the shield and caught the sword on one of his twin blades, then kicked his leg out and knocked the knight’s feet out from under him. Thancred’s other knife waited patiently for the knight to fall.

The fight was over in seconds. Thancred extricated his blades from the knight’s corpse and brushed himself off before turning to Aymeric.

“I apologize for my lateness. It seems some few of the poachers managed to slip past me, and it took me far too long to realize.” He leaned down and offered his hand.

Emerging from his daze, Aymeric gratefully accepted the help. “Master Thancred, you just saved my life. You’ve no cause to apologize.” Having regained his footing, Aymeric’s attention shifted back to the road, where the Deftarm still lay motionless. “Not to me, at least.” Injuries forgotten, Aymeric hurried to the Vath’s side. He knelt down next to the Deftarm, only to realize he knew nothing of the Vath’s biology.

Thancred was right behind him, and to Aymeric’s relief seemed to examine the Deftarm with a much more expert eye. After a long moment, he leaned back and nodded. “He’ll live. We should get him back to Loth ast Vath as soon as possible.”

Aymeric let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank the Fury. If I’d realized how organized they’d be, I would have thought to bring more backup.”

Thancred shook his head, levering the Deftarm up onto his back. “‘Tis better you didn’t. There was quite the number of poachers standing by to step in if things went sour, and if they suspected they were found out they may not have been so kind as to wait for my blades.”

“Well, it would seem we’ve found at least some of our answers,” Aymeric remarked. “I’ll inform Lucia. I’ve already arranged to have knights sent to Tailfeather, so while we search the Gnath hive they will seek the poachers’ camp.”

“Good. I suspect they will find more than mere hunting supplies there,” said Thancred. “The next step is to ensure that no crystals have already found their way into the Gnaths’ hands. And, if they have, then our task is to prevent a summoning.”

Aymeric smiled wryly. “Sounds simple enough.”

“Oh, yes. Piece of cake.”

Chapter Text

They returned to the Vaths’ home to find the place abuzz with activity. Weary as he was, Aymeric was immediately on alert. He shared a nod with Thancred and hurried ahead.

The Vath guard looked up as he approached, and while Aymeric was no expert in the beastmens’ body language, the guard appeared relieved. “You are returned!” Click-click. “Good, very good. Something happened while you were away.”

“What happened?” Aymeric prompted. The guard pointed him toward the Adventurer’s Guild. Before complying, Aymeric paused to indicate Thancred, slowly nearing the hive. “The Deftarm was badly injured. Please, help him if you can.”

The guard clicked his affirmation and scuttled off to offer assistance. Satisfied that the Deftarm would be in good hands, Aymeric hurried for the Adventurer’s Guild. Ducking around the column marking the entrance, he was greeted with what, in hindsight, should not have come as a surprise.

Surrounded by chattering Vath, the Hyuran knight who had first burst into the hive sat against the wall, her hands and feet bound. She spotted Aymeric as he approached, and glared at him.

“An ambush, was it?” Aymeric remarked drily.

“I never said who it was for,” she spat.

“Hm.” Aymeric turned to one of the Vath surrounding the knight. “I take it she tried something after we left?”

The Vath clicked his mandibles. “Yes. She drew a spear and attacked.” Click-click. “It went poorly for her. Yes, very poorly.” The chittering that followed sounded rather like a self-satisfied laugh.

“Stupid fucking bugs,” the knight grumbled. “They shoulda been easy to kill...”

Another nearby Vath clicked animatedly. “The Onemind may think us inefficient and weak, but with our individual abilities, we’re much stronger than they are!”

Aymeric resolved to block out the vitriol that spewed forth from the knight’s mouth in response, instead addressing the Vath once more. “I think it best that she be transported to Tailfeather. Several knights under my command should be arriving there soon.”

The first Vath he’d spoken to nodded, rubbing his hands together. “Good, good. We will arrange an escort.”

“Thank you.” Aymeric looked back out toward the rest of the settlement. “I’m going to go see how the Deftarm is doing. Let me know when all is ready.”

He found Thancred soon enough, leaning against the outer wall of the Guild.

“Where’s the Deftarm?” asked Aymeric.

Thancred glanced over. “They’ve brought him inside one of the houses to recover. I’ve been assured that he’ll be back on his feet soon enough.”

“Good… That’s good.” The wave of relief that washed over him almost took him by surprise. He knew the Deftarm was well aware of the danger going in, but Aymeric still felt responsible for him getting hurt. “As for what happened here…”

Thancred chuckled. “I think I can guess. That distressed knight who put on such a show decided to try out a career as an exterminator, eh?”

“Erm… well, yes. It seems the Vath handled her quite easily.”

“They learned from the best.” Thancred pushed off the wall, crossing his arms. “What are they planning to do with her? Hand her back over to the Convictory…?”

“Not quite,” said Aymeric. “With my knights on the way to Tailfeather, it makes the most sense to bring her directly to them. As for the Gnath… do you think we need to change our plans…?”

“Hmm…” Thancred mused. “With those Convictory buffoons running about, the Gnath are likely on high alert right about now. Not to discount your abilities, Ser Aymeric, but it may be easiest if I infiltrate the hive on my own.”

“No, no… I agree,” said Aymeric. “It’s your field of expertise. Once you determine whether they have the crystals, and where they’re kept, we can rendezvous in Tailfeather and plan from there.”

“Excellent. I’ll make ready to leave within the hour.”

“I’ll accompany the traitor to Tailfeather, then. I think my account of events may prove useful in questioning her.”

Thancred nodded, smacking his hands together with a smirk. “I shan’t be long. We can discuss our findings over dinner.”

---

Thancred hung around until the escort was ready to go, at which point he set out for the Gnath hive. Just before leaving Loth ast Vath, Aymeric spotted the Deftarm, clinging to the doorway of a nearby dwelling and waving.

Aymeric waved back, relieved to see with his own eyes that the Deftarm was okay. Then, with the grumpy knight and several Vath in tow, he set out for Tailfeather.

It was a blessedly uneventful trip. After everything that’d happened that day, Aymeric quietly thanked Halone for the small respite. They arrived in Tailfeather to the sight of several knights milling about, talking to hunters or doing other tasks. One of the knights caught sight of Aymeric’s group as they approached, and he quickly got the attention of the others.

The knights saluted as one, and the one in charge stepped forward. “Lord Commander! We received word from the First Commander on what happened with the knights of the Convictory.”

Aymeric nodded. “Good. We have a prisoner, and I’d like to see her questioned. While the group that attacked us were all killed in the battle, I would know if there are more, and what dealings they may have had with other factions.”

“Yes, ser!” The commander signaled to the other knights, and they all quickly relieved the Vath of their burden. “We’ll have her held here under guard for now. We’ve yet to locate the poachers’ camp, though the hunters here are aiding us.”

“I’m sure once he returns from his investigation of the Gnath, Master Thancred would be of great help,” said Aymeric. “It was he who dealt with the poachers involved in the ambush, and he may have learned something in so doing.”

There was an abrupt bark of laughter from the captive knight. “Once he returns, eh? Could be waiting for a long time, friend.”

Aymeric turned sharply to look at her. “Master Thancred is an expert in espionage. I very much doubt he’ll encounter anything he can’t handle.”

The knight smirked. “Espionage? Much good that’ll do when the enemy already knows you’re there.”

“What?” Aymeric stepped closer, glaring. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean my buddies and I warned the Gnath about your little crystal hunt! Your friend’s as good as dead!”

Aymeric hissed out a swear and spun to face the nearest hunter. “I need my chocobo. Now!”

Behind him, the traitorous knight laughed.

---

The latest Gnath patrol skittered onward, entirely unaware of the figure that separated itself from the shadows as they passed.

It hadn’t taken long at all for Thancred to make his way into the depths of Loth ast Gnath. The Gnath moved in predictable patterns, and he’d spent enough time dealing with them in the past that he knew precisely how to fool their senses. He still hadn’t found any signs of a crystal stash, but he also knew he still had a ways to go in his search.

Right on time, another patrol rounded the corner ahead. Easy. Thancred effortlessly evaded their notice, and slipped into the chamber they’d just left.

It was a cavernous room, with boxes stacked up along the wall to one side. Crystals.

After giving the room a quick glance, Thancred darted to the nearest crate and pried the lid open. Glittering, aether-steeped crystals greeted him within.

Excellent. Mission accomplished. Now all that need be done was formulate a plan to destroy this little stash, and determine where they came from. To that end, he could--

A shot echoed through the cavern, and Thancred’s vision blurred as pain jolted through him. He looked down, and saw a splotch of red spreading across his white jacket. What…?

His legs abruptly gave out, at the same time as another shot rang out. The bullet tore through Thancred’s shoulder, missing anything vital due only to his timely collapse.

Shit. How did they…? Thancred hissed and pressed his hands to the wound on his midsection. He needed to get out of here, now. He looked up, and a marking on the box in front of him caught his eye. It was worn, like someone tried to erase it, but… it appeared to be the Ishgardian coat of arms.

...Those godsdamned Convictory knights. They must’ve warned the Gnath. Sure, Thancred had avoided detection on the way in, but all the bugs really needed to do was lie in wait by the crystals.

Alright. He just needed to get out of the depths of the hive before he bled out, with the entire colony aware of exactly where he was.

No problem, right?

---

It was apparent even from a distance that the Gnath hive was in an uproar. Aymeric pushed his chocobo as hard as he dared, wary of overtaxing the bird but desperate to not be too late.

Aymeric’s linkpearl hummed, and he hastily answered. Please be Wombat. By the Fury, please--

“Aymeric! Sorry for the delay, I was… uh, busy.”

A relieved sigh found its way from Aymeric’s lips. “Wombat. I’m afraid Thancred’s in danger. He infiltrated Loth ast Gnath, but I’ve since learned that they’re expecting him. I’m going to try to get him out, but…”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the other end. “Please, don’t do anything stupid...”

“I… I dare not delay.”

“Shit. Usually it’s my job to leap blindly into things.” Aymeric heard Wombat’s chocobo trill, and could only assume he’d just been summoned. “I’m on my way. Don’t you dare die on me, Aymeric. And… don’t let Thancred die either. Please.”

“I won’t,” said Aymeric firmly. The linkpearl fell silent, and he turned his attention back to the matter at hand. He was now close enough to the hive to see that the activity was all centered around one of the tunnel entrances. Aymeric nudged his chocobo in that direction and tried to make out details.

Thancred was easy to spot, with his silver hair and white jacket. There was an alarming amount of red marring the white, however, and while Thancred was still visibly fighting back, he was clearly faltering. Even as Aymeric watched, a pair of Gnath managed to grab Thancred’s arms while another produced a length of rope and began tying him up.

Godsdammit. Aymeric still wasn’t close enough, and his poor chocobo was already giving its all. He urged the bird to dip a little lower, and drew his sword.

Below, the Gnath finished binding Thancred’s arms, and he was forced to his knees. One of the Gnath stepped forward, menacing him with its musket.

None of the Gnath noticed the black chocobo rapidly approaching, skimming a few yalms above them. Aymeric stood up in the stirrups, eyed his target, and then leaped.

Now, the Gnath noticed. Far too late, as Aymeric’s feet drove down into the Gnath that was threatening Thancred. The beastman went down, cushioning Aymeric’s fall, and Naegling’s tip buried itself in the Gnath’s head to ensure it stayed down.

The chattering fell silent for a moment, the shock of Aymeric’s arrival giving the Onemind pause. He didn’t wait for them to recover, pulling Naegling free and sweeping it in a wide arc to bisect several Gnath at once. He spun to dispatch the ones who still gripped Thancred, and then stood protectively over the injured Scion.

“Well,” Thancred gasped. “That was… quite the entrance. I do hope you have a plan to get us out of here…”

“Part of one,” Aymeric admitted. “But I swear, I will allow no further harm to come to you.”

“Ser Aymeric…”

There was no time to dwell on the genuine emotion in Thancred’s response, as the Onemind chose that moment to explode forth from its daze. Aymeric became a blue whirlwind, striking and blocking and always keeping himself between Thancred and their assailants.

Countless beastmen fell to his blade. However, just as many rose to take their place, and Aymeric couldn’t block every attack. Even with his armor, he could feel injuries accumulating as the Gnath slipped past his defenses.

It gradually dawned on him the true danger of fighting the Onemind. It wasn’t just that they all shared what they saw and heard… They were quite literally a single consciousness. With each Gnath he felled, the Onemind learned more of how he fought. The longer the battle dragged on, the more thoroughly his opponent understood him-- and how to counter him.

This wasn’t going to end well.

“Aymeric! Duck!”

He complied without hesitation. Mere ilms above his head, he felt the wind of a Gnath bullet soaring past.

Too close. Way too close. Aymeric straightened up and distanced himself from the horde of enemies to look behind him. There, perched atop the tunnel entrance gate, a Gnath firedrone took careful aim. Gods, he’d never have noticed had Thancred not warned him… 

A sharp pain in his side drew Aymeric back to the fight before him. One of the Gnath withdrew its spear, now slicked with Aymeric’s blood. Aymeric quickly dispatched it, but the damage was done. And there was still the matter of the sniper…

Right on cue, another shot rang out, but this one was well wide of the mark. The bullet gouged into the ground a yalm away, barely missing one of the Gnath soldiers. A glance over his shoulder showed the firedrone toppling from its perch, a throwing knife lodged in its head.

“Good… that takes care of that...” Thancred dropped back down to one knee, clutching the wound on his midsection. Noticing Aymeric’s stare, he smirked. “What, you thought a little blood loss and hastily-tied knots would keep me down?” His smirk turned into a grimace, and he doubled over further. “Ngh… you’d be half right, at any rate.” He shook his head. “Stay focused. I’ll… I’ll be fine.”

Aymeric nodded and turned his attention back to the horde just in time to deflect an attack. He was pretty sure Thancred didn’t believe the last part any more than he did, but there was no time to question it. He just had to hold out.

Surely, a way out would present itself. Surely...

A Gnath managed to flank him and sink its blade deep into the wound from earlier. Aymeric cried out as pain flashed through him. The blade twisted, and his vision went white.

He wasn’t aware of Naegling falling from his grasp, didn’t feel the impact with the ground.

He was back in Foundation. Lying on the icy cobbles, bleeding out into the city he wished so desperately to help. Feeling his life slip away, thwarted in the attempt to do the right thing...

He felt a hand on his shoulder. The Count de Fortemps, crouching by him, trying to comfort him…

The hand’s grip tightened ever so slightly. Aymeric looked up, and the vision dispelled. It was Thancred who knelt beside him, offering comfort though he yet suffered from his own wounds.

Aymeric coughed. “I’m… s-sorry. I couldn’t…”

Thancred grimaced. “You’ve nothing to apologize for. If anything, I’m sorry I walked so blithely into a trap like this… You shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistake.”

“Thancred, that’s not…”

One of the Gnath stepped forward, loudly clicking its mandibles. “Silence, fleshlings!” Click-click. “You will be the first offerings to Lord Ravana when we call him forth. You fought well-- he will be most pleased.”

Thancred hissed. “Godsdammit...  I’d sooner die than let my will be stolen away by a damned primal...”

In the distance, there was a sound like a gunshot.

At first, Aymeric assumed it was one of the Gnath muskets, but the way they all started and looked toward the source suggested otherwise.

The sound repeated, closer this time. As Aymeric strained his ears, the sound of running footsteps echoed from the direction of the hive entrance.

And then, a ferocious battle cry. Though Aymeric couldn’t see past the army of Gnath, he recognized that voice instantly.

Like the sun shining through the clouds after a storm, the Warrior of Light burst through the crowd of Gnath, her gunblade flashing with aether.

“Get the hells away from them!” she roared. The Gnath converged on her, only to be swept aside in a whirlwind of fire. “I said, get away!”

She fell upon them with a savagery belied by her tiny form. She practically seemed to glow as she cleaved through the enemies, aether bursting and metal gleaming.

Before long, she stood above Aymeric and Thancred in the center of a clearing. The Gnath hung back, unwilling to retreat but unsure of how to advance on the dangerous foe.

A gentler light covered the gunblade, flowing along its length like water. Wombat flicked it outward, and a ball of aether flew from the blade to the two of them. Aymeric gasped as the paralyzing pain that wracked his body receded.

“By the gods,” Thancred gasped, his voice expressing the same relief Aymeric felt. “I suspect you could have cut that closer if you tried, Wombat.”

Instead of picking up their usual banter, Wombat continued to scowl into the crowd of Gnath. “I’m just glad I made it in time.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Thancred, did you find crystals?”

“Aye. A whole load of them.”

“Given a sufficient diversion, do you think you could get back there? I know I couldn’t heal you guys up that much, but...”

Thancred gingerly rose to his feet. “I… yes, I suspect so.”

Her gaze flicked to Aymeric, who was also slowly regaining his feet. “You up to making some noise?”

He felt cautiously at his side. He flinched when his fingers brushed the wound, but it was no longer unbearable. He spotted Naegling on the ground nearby and retrieved it. “So long as you’re at my side.”

Wombat grinned. “Good. Here, Thancred--” she tossed a small package to him. He caught it and peered quizzically inside. “Kobold-made. Just came from O’Ghomoro, and I have some friends over there. Those ought to be sufficient to destroy the cache, I think.”

Thancred nodded appreciatively. “Oh, yes. These’ll do nicely.” He tucked them away and nodded. “I’ll endeavor not to get shot this time. I shan’t be long.”

He disappeared into the tunnel, his stealth abilities somehow uncompromised despite his injuries. Wombat and Aymeric exchanged a glance, and then dove back into the fray.

---

In truth, Aymeric wasn’t sure how much he helped during the fight. Though Wombat’s magic helped, he was still hampered by his wounds-- and even at his best he couldn’t hope to match the Warrior of Light in battle.

It was evidently enough, though. Thancred emerged from the tunnel none the worse for the trip, and moments later a series of distant explosions rocked the hive.

Wombat grinned, nodding to Thancred. Then, she turned to address the Gnath. “You hear that? That was your crystals. There will be no summoning today. Retreat, and you will suffer no further losses.”

Her hard gaze and firm grip on her gunblade were more than enough to drive home what the other option was.

Reluctantly, the Onemind made its decision. The Gnath drew back, clicking discontentedly, and disappeared into their tunnels. Wombat stood at the ready until the last of them was gone, only then swinging her gunblade down into a relaxed pose.

For his part, Aymeric could feel the adrenaline ebbing away, and his strength along with it. He sheathed Naegling, focusing hard on remaining upright despite the encroaching exhaustion. A glance at Thancred made it clear he wasn’t far behind.

Now that the danger was passed, Wombat’s entire demeanor shifted from that of a protective guardian to one radiating concern. She holstered her gunblade and quickly ran to the exhausted pair.

“Shit, okay, uh… do you think you can make it out of the hive? I don’t trust the Gnath to stay away for too long…”

“We don’t exactly have much choice, do we?” Thancred remarked.

Aymeric nodded weakly. “We’d best hurry…”

Wombat looked from one to the other, frowning, and drew forth her chocobo whistle. Apollo responded immediately, swooping in from just over the rocky hills. Wombat held up a few leaves of gysahl greens for him, then turned her attention back to Thancred and Aymeric.

“Alright… I can’t support both of you, so Aymeric, let Apollo help you. Thancred, here--” She took one of his arms and draped it over her shoulders, supporting him with her other arm.

Apollo nudged Aymeric with his beak, leaning down enough for Aymeric to comfortably wrap an arm around the chocobo’s neck for support. Apollo trilled approvingly and set off at a sedate pace.

It took longer than any of them would have liked, but the group managed to reach the exit of Loth ast Gnath unmolested. Aymeric found himself relying more and more on Apollo to remain upright, and as he looked up at the path across the vast Smoldering Wastes he felt a deeper exhaustion sink in.

He heard Wombat hiss out a quiet curse. “...No way we’re getting back to Tailfeather like this.”

Aymeric glanced over, and saw Thancred weakly lift his head as if to argue.

“Don’t even think about it, rogue boy.”

Thancred let out a defeated sigh and wilted. “Very well, miss purple.” He groaned. “What do you propose, then?”

Aymeric looked around, gripping at Apollo’s feathers to pull himself a little more upright. “If we can just… find somewhere to stop and rest while we wait for backup…”

Wombat pointed with her free hand at one of the great stony pillars dotting the land. “There-- that rock formation should keep us out of sight, and decently sheltered ‘til help arrives.”

Aymeric and Thancred exchanged glances. Thancred finally gave a tiny shrug. “I’ve no better ideas.”

Having a goal in sight did help somewhat, at least. Aymeric managed to find one last reserve of strength, determined to hold on until they were in relative safety.

They finally reached the rocky pillar, and Wombat guided them around to the back, out of sight of Loth ast Gnath. As luck would have it, they came across a spot where fallen rocks had created a sheltered little nook. She gently lowered Thancred to the ground against the rock wall, then turned to help Aymeric. He sank to the ground with immense relief, finally free to give in to exhaustion.

Wombat hesitated, watching her injured friends with concern. She shook herself out of it after just a moment, turning to Apollo. She produced the rest of the gysahl greens she'd offered him earlier, patting his neck as he ate.

"Alright, Apollo, I'm gonna need your help, okay?"

Apollo trilled and stood at the ready.

Wombat smiled. "Good boy. I need you to go to Tailfeather and guide a rescue party back here. Can you do that?"

The bird nodded, then turned and took a running start. Wombat watched him take to the air with a proud smile, then turned back to the others. She knelt down between them, face pinched with worry. “Gods, I’m sorry I didn’t arrive sooner. Maybe if I’d…”

“No… shh, Kipih,” Thancred muttered. One hand gripped his wounded torso, the other lay limp beside him. He appeared to be barely teetering on the edge of consciousness. “‘Tis enough that you came at all.”

"Thancred…" Wombat gently brushed sweat-slicked hair from his forehead, then pulled off her cape. She tore it down the center, and quickly bundled one half against the worst of Thancred’s injuries. “Here-- hold that in place.”

He wordlessly complied. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the rock, evidently succumbing to his exhaustion. Wombat stared worriedly, but there was little more she could do for him. Instead, she turned to face Aymeric, the other half of her cape in hand.

“I’m… I’m fine…” Aymeric said unconvincingly. A flat stare from Wombat was all it took to make him relent, letting her get at his injuries with a sigh.

She pressed the bundled fabric to the wound on his side, gently guiding one of his hands over to hold it in place. “I can’t do much more for you right now, but… Hopefully it’s enough. Ought to slow the bleeding, at least...”

She sank down to sit against the wall herself. She was silent for a moment, watching the rise and fall of Thancred’s chest as if she feared it would stop. Finally, she reluctantly tore her gaze away to glance at Aymeric. “I… Thank you.”

He blinked. “Wombat... it is we who ought to thank you.”

She smiled weakly, looking down at her feet. “I… I was almost too late. Would have been, if not for you.” Her violet gaze flicked back up to him. “So, thank you. For protecting him.”

Aymeric was taken aback. “I know not what else I could have done,” he said frankly. “I learned that the Gnath were expecting an attack on the crystals, and…”

Wombat chuckled tiredly. “Oh, Aymeric,” she said wistfully. “You’re so noble.”

Her tone made Aymeric look over at her. Though his energy waned, he could see the sadness in her smile. All at once, that conversation with Thancred came back to him. Knowing now what had been pointed out, Aymeric could see in Wombat’s eyes what he’d missed before. An ache, a longing that was far too familiar.

Mayhap it was an odd moment for it, but… Aymeric could bear it no longer. The pain of injury was nothing compared to the ache of his heart.

“...Wombat…”

She paused. Her gaze flicked to him for a moment, then she closed her eyes. “...Kipih.”

Aymeric blinked, whatever he was about to say dying on his tongue. “What?”

A tiny smile found its way onto her face. “Kipih Kamme. It’s my real name. I’ve… only told one other person, since leaving home.”

He could easily guess who it was. “I see.” His gaze drifted over to the unconscious Scion. “...Thank you.”

She didn’t respond right away, staring into the distance as she drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. After a moment, she let out a sigh. “I love you, you know. Gods, I love both of you.” She dropped her face down onto her knees. “What in the hells am I supposed to do?”

Aymeric’s heart ached to see her. “I… I do not know.” He looked away, biting his lip. “I love you too, Wo-- Kipih. I intended to keep my feelings to myself, to preserve your and Thancred’s happiness, but it’s clear now that it’s not so simple.”

“Hmm…” She looked back out across the wastes, chin now resting on her knees. “I’m glad you told me. And I’m glad I told you.”

She didn’t say what they were both thinking. Now what?

There was a quiet groan from Thancred, and Wombat and Aymeric both turned to look. He stirred slightly, fixing a tired eye on Wombat. “Why bother choosing?” he slurred. His eye flicked to Aymeric. “Hells… I could certainly do worse.” His mouth twitched up into a smirk before consciousness fled him once more.

They were both silent for a long moment. Wombat tilted her head thoughtfully. “Huh,” she mused. “Is that allowed?”

“I…” Aymeric closed his mouth, tried again. “I don’t see why not…?”

What was he saying? What were they saying? Had Thancred even really meant what he said, or was it just delirious mumbling brought on by blood loss? For that matter, Aymeric couldn’t be sure he was thinking straight, either; though his injuries were less severe than Thancred’s, he could feel the toll they took on him.

It wasn’t lost on Wombat, who offered him a sad, fond smile. “Mayhap it’d be best to discuss this later,” she said. She reached across, hesitated for a moment, and then gently brushed her hand through Aymeric’s hair. He let out an involuntary sigh and leaned into her touch.

“Rest now, love,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Rest… yes, that sounded wonderful. Aymeric let himself slump back against the rocks, his eyelids-- suddenly feeling all too heavy-- sliding shut. He felt her hand withdraw from his hair, only to be replaced a moment later with a soft kiss on his forehead.

In spite of the day’s ordeals, in spite of the wounds that yet throbbed, as Aymeric slipped into unconsciousness beside the Warrior of Light, he felt safe.