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Thancred’s first memory was of rain on the sea. Of hiding from the freezing wind and falling water in an overturned box. Of making his tiny body as small as possible as it shivered and shook like a leaf. Trying not to cry from the overwhelming knowledge that he was cold and hungry and utterly alone in a world that would be unbearably cruel to an orphan with no one to look out for him but himself.
From the beginning, he knew he was alone and unwanted, and would always have to fight tooth and nail to prove that he was worthy of anyone’s time or attention or respect. Louisoix had been generous enough to give him a chance, but Thancred knew, deep down, that if he had been even slightly less skilled, he very likely would have been left to rot. He didn’t survive in Limsa’s underbelly by trusting anything offered unconditionally. No, things like shelter, warmth, comfort, he had to earn…
Thancred heard the sound of rain on the sea… and felt a blanket on top of him.
Blinking himself awake, it took him a minute for his vision to focus, to remember where he was, to remember what year this was…
“Have a nice nap, lovey?”
Rahela’s familiar, sweet voice greeted him, accompanied by her fingers combing through his hair. That’s right, he must have dozed off on the couch…
The couple were slowly settling in and making themselves at home on this island sanctuary of theirs–
(Gods, every time Thancred remembered that Tataru had bought the newlyweds an entire island in the Cieldales as a wedding present, he still couldn’t believe it. He mentioned wanting to plump for a tropical paradise over Sharlayan one time, and lo and behold…)
–Thancred had taken to living off the land outstandingly well, and Rahela was unsurprisingly skilled at capturing and then caring for various animals–Whiffles the Nutkin included–and growing plenty of crops in their garden. Working together, they (and the mammets) had built a cozy little cottage, a garden, and a pasture, with materials that they had gathered themselves (without said mammets). And at that very moment, that cottage was keeping them safe and sheltered from the storm raging outside.
“I’d just finished preparing the animal feed for tomorrow when I caught the Furball about to scribble on your face,” Rahela remarked, gesturing to the cat-eared mammet that did not look the slightest bit apologetic. “And when I checked on you, you looked so peaceful that I didn’t want to wake you up. So I put a blanket on you.”
“I…” Still groggy from sleep, Thancred was lost for words for a long moment, until he massaged his eyelids with a yawn. “… Thank you, dove.”
“Always happy to help,” Rahela nodded, idly combing her fingers through her husband’s hair. “Oh, but since you’re awake now: are you hungry? The mammets are making shakshouka and baked popotoes for dinner tonight, and isleberry pancakes for dessert.”
“…”
The rain outside was coming down just as hard, the wind was just as cold, and howling just as loud…
But Thancred had a roof over his head, a steady supply of good food to eat, a soft and safe place to sleep, and so much more than that. He wasn’t alone anymore. He was warm, safe, content, and unconditionally loved…
“… That sounds lovely, truly.” And then, glancing up at his wife, Thancred flashed a smirk. “And yet, with the weight of your kind gesture, this blanket has suddenly become impossibly heavy; I couldn’t possibly take it off. The most I could do would be to lift it, perhaps, just enough to let you join me…?”
Rahela’s expression changed from one of confusion, to a smile.
“… Pfffheeheeheehee…!” She laughed, and shook her head in fond exasperation. “Yes, lovey, I would love to cuddle with you until dinner.”
The invitation thus accepted, Thancred scooted back on the sofa and lifted the blanket to make room for Rahela; and not a moment later, her back was pressed against his chest, and he could feel her purring as he wrapped his arms around her. She nuzzled against him, and moments later, Whiffles hopped up to snuggle with them. The storm shook the trees and rain came down in sheets, battering the roof… But they were safe. The home they built was sturdy, and the thick, warm comforter shielded them from any stray gusts that might find their way inside. The storm would pass, and the stars would come out and shine beautifully when it did.
What did he do to deserve all of this, he wondered. Was it a reward for all the sacrifices he’d made for the well-being of the world? Was it fate finally giving him a good turn after all the times it had spat upon him and all the people he’d cared for? Or did he deserve it simply for being alive, for surviving this long…?
Well, he knew how Rahela would answer if he asked all these questions aloud. And, albeit slowly, he was learning to trust her judgment on such matters.
He took a deep breath of the cool, clear air, and of the smell of Rahela’s hair.
“I never thought the rain would be so comforting…”