HOW agonising . she knows him too well , by now . the knife twists exactly as she meant it , and it only twists further when lahabrea mocks him . he suppresses the ghost , for now , despite the migraine it always gives . he cannot know him now .
it hurts . this lie . this delicately fabricated illusion of self - reliance . the others know him as independent : how could he admit that wasn’t the case ? how could thancred lay himself bare to the slaughter ? to confess that he relies upon someone so full of malice , that he still clings to minfilia , that he is afraid ?
oh , twelve , he’s afraid . afraid of her touch , of her knowing eyes . afraid of himself . afraid of the disapproval he offered his elezen lover , knowing thancred , too , was just another damned liar . he wants to run , because that is what he does best . he runs and hides .
he’s been hated before . thancred knows the feeling of dark eyes upon him . but this is different , for he holds the feline to dearly . in such high esteem . envious , always , of her strength and independence . of the way the world relies upon her and she takes the responsibility in her hands .
in a fit of violent bravery , thancred reaches for her , and presses his hands to one of hers . lets her drink in the cacophony that is his shattered aether , that is the warm thrum of hate beneath . the sick magma that fills in his cracks . he does not look at her as he does it . he cannot watch her expression turn to horror and betrayal when she inevitably sees through him , sees the ancient that has haunted him since ifrit , since the days of ala mhigo .
he wants to explain himself . but his words , for once , fall flat . they stick to his tongue like toffee , they tighten his throat . he cannot defend himself . he knows not how .
is there any way to justify who he is anymore ?
when he retracts his hand , he moves . thancred settles upon his bed , still ruined from fitful sleep . he stares at his quaking fingers , the endless scars .
( hang himself he does , twisting her extended threads around his throat . he wants to choke . he will lose everything here , or he will chase it all away in the future . )
❝ …i understand , you know . if you hate me . but you must understand , seti . i… ❞
what a broken feeling , to be at a loss for words .
don’t lie, not to me, she wants to beg, but it is his choice in the end. if he will swing the axe to sever the ties, so be it; she has forgiven worse betrayals, and she will firm herself to forgive this one, too. she can do this, she can, only for him.
instead, he shocks her. the warmth of palm to palm, the quick surge of aether, the way the echo winds quick around her throat and closes. she chokes on the first plunge; the deluge of his memories, spilling into her. a flood, a cacophony that takes a moment to settle. it makes her sick. his own self-hatred, the dead that hangs over his head, and when she lands back in her body, it is without grace -- a gasp, a cry as she pulls away as if he has burned her.
she takes a moment, breathing quiet, ears flat to her head. her voice is very small when she asks, “ warn me next time. “ but it is without venom, tone gone very soft.
so. this is his great and terrible secret. she wants to laugh. she wants to cry. instead, she crosses the space, this great chasm she has felt in her chest since that first moment of betrayal. light, spilling from her, as she settles a hand to his jaw and lifts his face to hers. if he wants forgiveness, she will give it. if he want refuge, she can offer that too. but only if he asks.
“ i do not hate you, thancred. “
she is better at this than she is at anger. she will take it, gladly. with a sigh, she settles onto the bed next to him, tail curling in affection around one of his calves, her head leaned to his shoulder. to be trusted, and trust in return. she doesn’t know if she can manage the full breadth of that, but she can manage weaving her hand through his.
( those moments in the praetorium hang heavy in her mind : how the cries had caught in her throat, the ash on her tongue, how heavy and lifeless he had been as she had dragged him through the rubble. she wonders if lahabrea is listening now ).
“ is he dangerous? “ a silly question. of course he is dangerous. shouldn’t she know? she rectifies it quickly. “ are you in control? “