a blessing all her own

He’s so lost in thought and the song that he doesn’t even register his audience of one, and neither does he notice when she approaches— it’s only when she speaks he realizes Ryne’s here, and that she’s been here the whole time. He blinks at her in surprise for a moment, a faint flush coloring his cheeks in embarrassment— ah, he’s been caught! That’s— well, no, he really shouldn’t be embarrassed, he had sung at the celebration, but it…the way she’s looking at him, awed and delighted, it’s like it was something far more special to her than it felt to him. “I— well. I’ve had little reason to for a long time,” he admits, putting an arm around her shoulders and tugging her close to ward the chill night air off. “But…perhaps. I do believe I might.”

More reasons to sing— well, one of those reasons is sitting right beside him. He wonders if she’d like to learn a few songs, and his lips twitch into an amused smile at himself. “You know,” he says absently, reminiscent. “There was a time I fancied myself a bard. Years, really. Introduced myself as one, made a whole show of it. I wasn’t, but…I suppose I wanted to be.” It’s a bit of a personal admission, but she deserves to know her father, doesn’t she? And it’s not like he’s saying all of it. (And better from him than from someone who’d put it far more embarrassingly!) “That was a long time ago, or at least it feels like it,” he muses. “But I’ve ever had a liking for song, and that doesn’t change no matter what I call myself.” He pauses, and looks down at her, eyebrow rising in pure paternal concern and curiosity. “And what are you doing up so late anyway, young lady?” He teases gently, half sure it’s not for a pleasant reason. “Don’t you start picking up our bad habits.”

“I’d like to hear you sing more often,” Ryne says, and smiles up at him as she leans her head against his shoulder. “It makes me feel... safe, like nothing is or even could go wrong.” A bit of a silly thought, that, when she knows better than anyone that safety doesn’t last, that things can always happen to endanger you or your loved ones or even kill them if you’re not careful. But it’s the truth, and she wonders if it’s something to do with having a father--- Thancred is more than just a protector to her, more than merely a bodyguard or a guide; he is those things, yes, but he’s also taught her so much, cared for her even when it pained him to look at her, and now she knows he loves her, and that’s all that it takes to feel utterly safe in and reassured by his presence.

Ryne hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, really she hadn’t! She’d just been looking for Thancred, seeking the reassurance only he can give after she’d gotten herself caught up in a nightmare, only to see that he wasn’t in his rooms. She’d gone looking in part due to lingering anxiety and curiosity about what had led him away, and somehow ended up hear, listening to her father sing.

She hadn’t wanted to interrupt, and it was so beautiful that she hardly dared to breathe. (He had sung at the celebration, a bit, but this unaccompanied tune is somehow far more magickal and heartfelt in nature, even awe-inspiring.) So she waits in silence until the last notes fade away, then creeps over to drop beside him without any sort of prompting, this time.

It’s to Ryne’s credit — or maybe it’s just because he really is that close to truly dozing off — that he doesn’t notice her until she’s only a couple fulms away, almost right on top of him. She’s getting better! He’s very proud of her, she’s quite a fast learner. Though he knows she’s got more than one teacher, these days; all the Warriors have nearly fallen over themselves to help out with this or that on top of himself and Urianger; it’s…sweet. It makes him happy, really it does. Reminds him again that they’re all his family. He’d taken too long as a child to realize it, but he’ll never take that for granted again. Now more than ever.

He cracks an eye open to look at her, smiling when she speaks, and stretches. He never used to be so stiff before he took up the gunblade! Then again, it is leagues more strenuous than daggers. Getting knocked around is certainly something that happens severalfold more often of late, at the least. “Urianger must really be rubbing off on you,” he teases gently. “Don’t let him fool you, he forgets to eat more often than I by far.” Even so, he sits up properly and pats the spot beside him so she knows it’s alright to join him; he’s been working on that, since he realized how much of an arse he’d been. Making sure Ryne knew that he wanted her, that it was alright, every chance he got and every time it was needed. He loved her — and that was awe-inspiring even in and of itself — and he wanted her to be certain of it, his daughter, his blessing.

“Come on, now, let’s see what you’ve brought,” he says warmly, already tugging at the cloth tucked neatly around the basket’s contents. “And do let me know if there’s any in particular you want for yourself. I’d much prefer if you didn’t end up learning Y’shtola’s methods for preventing food theft.” His eyes sparkle with amusement at the jest, and…really. He’s— well, he’d deserved all the lectures and he certainly wasn’t planning on it again, but he’s almost glad he had the sense knocked back into him like that. He feels like himself again. Never quite the same as before the banquet, but more like himself than he has the last five years. And…doesn’t Ryne deserve that? To have a father finally present, in body and mind both? This is good for both of them.

Ryne smiles at him, a bright and cheerful thing that’s bolstered by the softness in his eyes and the gentle teasing in his voice. She likes this man, this Thancred. She’s always loved him, always will, but this version of him is alive and sweet and everything she thinks a caretaker should be.”And if he were here, I would be bringing him sandwiches too,” she says, moving to sit next to him and pushing the basket into his hands as he tugs at the cloth. “But he isn’t, and you still need to eat.” Pausing for a moment, she watches him, then dares to shift closer and lean against him. “I’m afraid it’s nothing special, just some sandwiches I picked up after leaving the Rookery. But I hope you like them, anyway.”

Thancred, quite frankly, is exhausted. At least it’s the good kind of exhausted! Now that things are over it feels almost like normal, the usual lull of activity in between shenanigans that need the Scions’ aid. It almost doesn’t feel anymore like the world was literally ending, a world he’d lived in for five years, one that wasn’t his own but almost felt like it now. Going home is going to be very strange. But in the meantime, this is home, and it feels almost like normal. Which means he’s bored. 

Well, alright, not the same level of boredom, because his frequent excursions with Ryne into the Empty are a welcome distraction and he’ll always love spending time with his daughter, but when they’re visiting the Crystarium again for a few days, it’s…well. It reminds him of how stir crazy he would get when there was nothing to do, nothing happening, and his instincts always hated the idea that there was nothing about to happen. Ryne’s off somewhere, so he’s by himself for the moment, and he may or may not be attempting to nap leaning against one of the poles on the gangway by the Mean, near enough to one of the barrier anchors that he can ease his damned nerves and sleep.

Ryne has been busying herself in the rookery for nearly half the day, learning what goes into the creatures’ care and, admittedly, losing herself in petting them. Knowing that some few of them may one day be able to speak, to communicate as men do --- and that all of them will remember her, remember those people who have touched their lives in the here and now --- means that every moment she spends with them, cooing over them, helping care for them may be something that is remembered when she is gone. There’s something important about that, about the idea of these gentle, sweet creatures thinking back on her and recalling a kind word, a soft touch. But perhaps it’s simply the weight of everything that has happened getting to her, she isn’t sure.

What she is sure of is that it’s well past midday, and she never saw Thancred appear for a meal. So she’s hunting him down with a basket full of sandwiches, intent on sharing them with him and spending a little time with him before they have to turn their mind to their next foray. Ryne finds these quiet moments peaceful, even reassuring, but she’s seen how fidgety the man’s becoming and thinks a little company might be a better idea than leaving him to his own devices. She finds him out near one of the anchors to the barrier --- not immediately, unfortunately, she’s been looking for long enough that she thinks herself hungry enough to eat all of the sandwiches by herself --- and steps up to him, quiet as she can. She’s working on being more stealthy, after all!