Chapter Text
It started with a drunken proposition from Thancred after the liberation of Ala Mhigo, an invitation to his and Ignia’s bed for physical comfort. Putting it up to the alcohol, Urianger had laughed it off with a flush (be it from the idea or the drinks, he wasn’t certain). Yet the next day, when all drinks had been flushed out of their systems, Ignia had been the one to bring it up once more, blushing all the while. She bid that he think it over, with a shy smile on her face and she left the room with a kiss pressed to his palm.
Then, when he finally accepted…Ignia and Thancred are both so kind and accepting. They had invited him into their bed but followed his pace, his limits and made him the center of attention. They didn’t begrudge him when his shyness stopped them early. Thancred just wrapped himself around the elezen, while Ignia peppered his hands and face with soft kisses while they all rested.
It was probably the lack of judgement, the sheer care both of them showed for him that brought him back to them. This time, he was ready, getting lost in the pleasure they promised. They trusted him with so much, willing to explore and experiment with things for the first time. Even when their whole bodies were shaking and sore, recovering from bliss, Urianger could not, would not, ever regret joining them this time or for any future time they choose to invite him as a paramour.
Well.
It was more accurate to call that the beginning of the end. For even before that, it was always the little things. The way he always woke up with a blanket laid on top of him when he fell asleep researching, or the way Thancred would remember to bring a jar of his favorite tea (and sometimes even Archon Loaf) whenever he passed by the Waking Sands even after the move. Ignia sat with him at Moenbryda’s memorial after her death and on every anniversary since, providing silent companionship, and Thancred always managed to time bringing a blanket out just as the evening’s chill began to settle.
Even from the start, Ignia never questioned his manner of speaking, instead choosing to study and learn and ask, never condescending, always (adorably) curious. It was in those times that he learned how expressive how her ears and tail were, a flick of her ears always preceding a confused look, where he’d have to coax a question out of her that rested on the top of her tongue. And the sheer passion she showed when it came to the things she cared about. Oh, how he remembered hearing and seeing her heart break and shatter, only to see her stand up again, refusing to bow her head.
For Thancred, even if they did not consider themselves friends for some time at first…they had known each other since Master Louisoix saw fit to bring home and foster an orphan from Limsa Lominsa. Yet, his presence was always steady. The other acted the fool and flirt but in the end, the safety and preservation of his loved ones was always first and foremost. And it was always to the point of overwork, and truly only Minfilia and their shared teacher were, once, the ones who were able to pull him out of that state, even if they all worried.
Urianger would be eternally grateful that they made him a part of their lives in any capacity. But also, would later realize that it doomed him and his heart.
It was a slow fall, when he looked back, with the clarity of time. Piece by piece built in his heart until they each had built a place in his heart as big as the one he had for Moenbryda. The pair of them, the pair of rogues, had snuck their way in and Urianger could nary find a reason to be mad at them for it. It was just who they were.
It took months to realize just what the fluttering every time he saw them was building up to be. To analyze and realize what his lingering touches and wandering eyes meant. And when he realized caught in fear over their lives, he feared it was already too late. Truly, there was something truly ironic to the fact that barely a week after he realized just how his heart yearned, Thancred asked him to help with asking for Ignia’s hand.