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Thancred stares up at the ceiling of his room in the Annex. Weariness weighs him down but he can’t close his eyes. Even with the lamps burning, the darkness behind his lids is too close to the sea he spent so long fighting against. An endless ocean of sorrow and despair that begged him to stop, to give in and rest. To be pulled under by the currents of entropy and allow himself peace at last.
It was a siren song that he fought against tooth and nail. Half because they all needed him and half because Thancred knew such peace was never meant for him. He fought for an eternity until fighting was the only thing he knew, and hearing that familiar voice call out to him was like waking into a dream. A bright dream presided over by the maker of the ocean, but filled with the very faces he'd fought so hard for.
Even that feels so long ago now with his bare feet resting on the floor, shoulders lighter without blade or armor to weigh him down. With just trousers and shirt he feels almost like he’s floating, and he’s not sure if that is a good feeling or not after this eternal day.
Sounds seep in through the window he closed and shuttered on entering. The sounds of celebration, wild by Sharlayan standards, will no doubt continue as it’s only midday for all that it feels like it should be night and Thancred could do without the noise. He sits in his exhaustion and basks in the quiet. Footsteps break the silence of the Annex as people occasionally pass through the hall outside as Thancred ponders what sleeping might actually be like were he to attempt it now. He regards the prospect as grimly as he considers any battle he’s given time to plan for.
He has no doubt that the dreams waiting for him will be dark indeed.
A set of steps pausing outside his door draws his attention. They’re not the first he’s heard the last few hours, nor is the knock at the door the first to sound out. As before, Thancred stays silent. The prospect of getting up and dealing with anyone else drains him of what little energy he has left, and he’s found silence the best response to such summons. His visitors give up after a short while, no doubt assuming him to be resting. The second knock is slightly louder but he still waits for the footsteps to leave.
What he gets instead is the rattle of the doorknob he compulsively locks no matter how safe an area he's supposedly in. An unexpected sound that manages to draw out a short shock of adrenaline as his eyes instinctually go to his gunblade. Tired muscles tensing for a fight that never seems to end.
"Thancred," Urianger says, voice muffled by the wood but clear even over the rattle of the knob as the elezen tries the door again.
Strange, he'd thought he wanted no company, but Thancred finds his feet already under him as he goes to let the man in. 'Other people' apparently doesn't include Urianger, and Thancred can only muster up a bare huff of a laugh as his hands undo the locks to pull the door open.
Urianger looks as tired as Thancred feels standing in the hall bereft of jewelry and swaying slightly. His dark robes are more tattered than when they left their star and look nearly worn through around his slumped shoulders. His eyes are fever bright though as he accepts Thancred’s silent nod to come in.
The sound of the locks engaging is loud in the strange silence that settles between them. Something Thancred is not used to hearing from his usually verbose companion. “Couldn’t sleep?”
“Nae,” Urianger’s voice is slow and soft. The man has stepped further into the room when Thancred turns around. Shuffling over to the table and stopping near the seat Thancred had been sitting in not a moment before. His tall and normally graceful form sways until Thancred braces him with a hand.
“Why don’t you have a seat before you fall over?” Thancred tries to guide the man down but he slips away with a spin that’s almost smooth. “Urianger?”
“No, I merely-” Urianger shakes his head once and finishes turning to face Thancred. Grief and fear spills over his expressive face and Thancred finds himself stepping forward even before the man finishes reaching out. Reacting to the way his voice shakes and nearly breaks as Urianger slumps into him. “I need thee-”
When they kiss, Urianger tastes like tears that haven't been shed. He smells heavily of sweat, flowers, and the strangely stale air of the Ragnarok, but it is the faint tang of the tears that overwhelms Thancred. Turning the simple press of exhausted lips into something fierce and desperate. Making him knot his fingers into the dust covered robe and crush the elezen man into his arms and bite his lips to hold back his own tears.
They end up on the floor. Two full grown men clinging to one another like drowning men grasping for anything to keep them afloat. Urianger’s breath hitches on a low keen when he breaks away and buries his face against Thancred’s neck. His fingers bite and claw at Thancred’s back with enough force to leave bruises he will feel tomorrow.
“She said thou wert dead,” Urianger manages to grit out and Thancred finds it hard to breath as he tries to hold the man closer, tighter. Though there is no closer or tighter to be had between them. “I blacked out and when I awoke twas to no trace of thee. No sign to be found and I looked, Thancred. How I looked for thee!”
It’s still a blur to Thancred. The moment Meteion appeared before them, her face placid and colorless as she watched them choke on nothing. Proclaiming their failure and death as a sort of salvation, urging them to give in with a voice that rang out as his vision went dark. From lack of air and anger. He remembers the red hot wave of stubborn denial that had him shooting to his feet and staggering forward and lashing out.
When and how he went from the Ragnarok to that place he ended up in is beyond him. He has no memory of transitioning, of feeling a difference between fighting past his breathlessness and pushing against the unending force of entropy. It hadn’t felt much different altogether. His vague awareness of the others slowly exploring for a way to move forward the only thing to let him know he still existed as more than some formless instinct to survive.
It could have been a mere moment or all of eternity, but going by the wreckage of grief in Urianger’s voice it was far too long.
“I’ve got you,” Thancred murmurs as an apology lingers on his tongue. Heavy and absolutely useless because they are both Scions and their lives are not guaranteed. “Hush now, my love, I have you.”
The sob that rips its way out of Urianger’s chest is filled with as much relief as pain. Thancred closes his eyes against the way his own gut sinks with guilt for being the cause, even as he feels grateful. Grateful for the fact that he was the first sacrifice, that he was not the one left behind wondering what happened to Urianger. Looking with stubborn hope only to have it dashed so coldly. It’s a selfish feeling that he shoves away to curl himself around Urianger to give him what comfort he can. A useless litany of comforting words and a shoulder to absorb the tears that fall for several long minutes.
“I’m sorry,” the apology slips out anyway in the face of his helplessness. Every bit as useless as he knew it to be, but he offers it up regardless. “Gods, I am so sorry Urianger.”
Urianger laughs, a hideous sounding croaking thing as he rocks his head back and forth. Letting go of Thancred’s back to slide his arms fully around him and leaning back. Pulling so that Thancred ends up straddling the man’s lap, and there is still not a single inch of space between them even as the man pulls back enough for their eyes to lock.
“Do not be,” Urianger’s voice is thick but the small smile that graces his face is genuine and grows. “In truth I wouldst- Nae, I did the same as thee for there was no other choice. Not for the star, not for us. Full well do I know that sacrifices-” Urianger’s gorgeous eyes shutter for a moment before he continues, “Sacrifices are oft necessary in our lives.”
Urianger swallows and moves a hand up to caress Thancred’s cheek, one last tear sliding down his cheek when Thancred leans into it.
“I know,” Urianger continues in a lower tone. “And yet I shall offer up my sincerest thanks to the gods, the elements, even the primals themselves every day for the rest of eternity that I hath been given a second chance to be with thee.”
Thancred sighs and pulls the man back in, placing a soft kiss to his lips while cradling his face. Fingers caressing down warm cheeks to damp beard as he keeps the kiss a light as he can. Not allowing himself to fall back into the desperation that had flavored the first one. Pulling back only when Urianger sighs and slumps against him once again.
“I think we all owe the Twelve a serious round of gratitude,” Thancred rests their foreheads together but does not stop his slow caresses. “But I think they might understand if we took some time for rest first.”
Urianger clings to him as he eases up to his feet, hauling the taller man up with him. They both stumble over the short distance to the bed, and Thancred falls more than he lays down. Urianger keeping his feet for a moment as he looks down at Thancred with undisguised awe.
“Sleep with me,” Thancred makes the request and holds a hand up. Pulling lightly when Urianger takes it and climbs clumsily in after him. They fit together perfectly as always. Urianger’s head finding a home under Thancred’s chin and their limbs twining together easily. The brush of breath ghosting across his collarbone is as comforting as the weight of the other’s body holding him down. Erasing the feeling of floating he’s been dealing with. “We can work out who to pray to first in the morning.”
Urianger nods, wordless again outside of a sigh when Thancred tucks an arm tight around the man’s lower back. Silence returns to the room, and Thancred can feel his exhaustion settle back in. Heavier than before now that he has a bed to his back, and the solid weight of Urianger beside him promises to ease –if not banish– the nightmares to come.
Thancred feels grateful.