gloire à mes genoux

What had once brought a smile to his face now makes him angry. Nika's words in Il Mheg ring in the dead silence, broken only by his tune; he'd called Minfilia a fraud and Thancred honorless, and while Thancred was ready to tackle him to the ground then and there, upon later reflection, those words stuck.

Thancred was not particularly honorable. Minfilia was not his Minfilia.

Nika then proceeded break down in Urianger's house, sobbing and screaming his lungs out. Thancred's anger evaporated from his body as fast as it had accumulated; it was he who offered to take Nika back to the Crystarium, knowing their shared magical limitation. When he was safely in his rooms, fast sleep, Thancred was mulling over Nika's words and tasted bile on his tongue.

And now he's seeking him again, to inquire about his well being. The joy.

Nika doesn't stir when Thancred approaches. His fingers make their little dance, start to finish. He has shifted to a more upbeat melody. In his own world, there is nothing but the book, the dance, and the tune. He looks tired, this close. There are dark circles under his eyes, but they're alive and animated.

There is no venom that had called Thancred's honor and Minfilia's credibility into question.

"Nika," Thancred says, voice hard. "Nika!"

Nika shakes his head, stunned by the interruption. He blinks owlishly before he looks up and his eyes harden. In the warm light, the amber one shines brighter than the hazel one. "Thancred? What do you want?"

"Not much. I simply wished to ask about you, following the little crying spell in Il Mheg."

"Little crying spell? Is that how it was?" Nika's voice is low in his throat. "I have no fucking patience for your word choices today."

"You're in a great mood, then," Thancred says, unable to stop. And then, softly, "I was worried for you back there. If someone broke down like that in front of you, you'd be worried too."

Nika flinches. His anger deflates. His eyes travel across the page, not lingering anywhere enough to register words there. He looks worn down. "I don't want to talk about what I said. But I don't know what came over me after. The Echo showed me you and Minfilia in that abandoned theater or whatever, and my Minfilia said what she said and I was… I don't know."

Thancred pulls out a chair. Wordlessly, he asks if he can sit. Nika doesn't deny, but his eyes follow Thancred like a hawk. "Is heartbroken the word you're looking for?"

"I suppose it fits." Nika gathers his hands in front of him and presses them together. "Why are you here, Thancred? I sure as fuck don't want to bare my heart to you of all people."

"We were friends once, Nika," Thancred replies, halfway gentle. Nika leans forward, propping his head under his hands. The scar on his face spreads like a river between them. Thancred had carried Nika up the stairs, yelling for medical help, as Nika was holding onto his bloody face, insensate with panic. "You took a dagger to the face for me."

"I almost wish I hadn't," Nika bites, unblinking. It's mildly unsettling. "We were friends once, yeah, but not right now. Right now, we're allies. On that note, I have no fucking idea why you're checking up on me. You didn't check on me when I was dealing with my feelings back in Ishgard. My memory's not that fucking faulty."

Thancred's brow furrows. "Ishgard?"

Nika sighs and squares his shoulders, as if readying himself for something. "I am in a relationship, Thancred." A pause. "With Artoirel de Fortemps. A man."

He's moved on already? And with that stick in the mud? Thancred leans back and lifts his brows incredulously. He'd seen the longing looks Nika would throw at men sometimes, even if he thought he was being sly and unsuspecting. Nika's heterosexuality was always in a weird stage of non-existence.

"Artoirel's a good man, if a bit stiff," Thancred says. "I would have never paired you with him, though."

Nika stares. He's trying to stifle his curiosity and failing miserably. "Who'd you have paired me with then?"

"Honestly, Hilda. You two have a bone to pick with the world at large. As for the men, perhaps Estinien. He too feels like someone you'd share a punching bag with."

Nika huffs. "I did have sex with Hilda, I'll let you know."

Thancred smiles. "Great. So did I. She's good with her hands, isn't she?"

Nika laughs. It echoes in the silent library. Every pair of eyes turns to them. Suddenly, Nika clears his throat and says, softly, "You knew?"

"I think we all did," Thancred replies equally softly.

"Wait, with men and women? Both of them?"

Thancred shrugs. "Bisexuality is a thing, Nika."

Nika stares at him. A million thoughts race through his head and Thancred can only imagine how often they bump into each other. At last, Nika just says a non-committal ah. A moment later, he squints.

Thancred shrugs yet again. Whatever Nika's issue with his own sexuality is, Thancred's not the one who will solve it.

Still, the camaraderie feels oddly comfortable. They'd spent years at metaphorical sword point, each with his own issues to deal with, and now, to be able to sit and make a joke… There's a feeling in Thancred's chest that he can hardly explain, a dull ache, perhaps a longing for an easier time? A half-formed memory?

"I am glad to see you are well," Thancred confesses, looking at their hands. Nika's fingers start their dance again, hurried. "Witnessing that in Il Mheg.."

"Disturbing, right?" Nika's voice has an edge to it. To what end, Thancred doesn't know. "Do you pity me for it?"

Thancred frowns. "This is worry, you fool, not pity. Pity would look very different."

"They look close enough to me," Nika mutters. "All of the feelings look close enough, when pressed. They always have."

"And how are you feeling now?" Thancred whispers.

"Why'd I tell you?" Nika says, in a strange tone. "I don't know what I'm feeling! This is the first normal conversation we've had in years!"

Thancred rubs his face. He doesn't know why he asked. Nika is obviously fine, as fine as Nika goes, he's not a danger to himself or others.. And they're in a library. There's a lady giving them a strange look.

Well.

"A conversation I will cut short, I'm afraid," Thancred says, quietly standing up. "I will leave you and the people here to the books."

Nika opens his mouth to speak, yet no words come out. Thancred turns and sets off; he feels Nika's eyes boring into his back, but there's nothing more.

Maybe it's for the better. Maybe their days of normal conversations have passed. It'd be nice if Thancred felt glad for it.