#wolcredweek

Wolcred Week 2025 - Day 5: Poetry

Prompt list hosted on bluesky- below.

Words: 1K Pairing: Killian/Thancred Timeline: early-ARR Relationship notes: pre-wolcred Warning: mentions and hints only of Killian's past as a slave and as an escort, nothing described.

~*~

“Come now, Killian,” Yda pouts. “We're friends now, aren't we? Surely, your friends should know your nameday.” Papalymo, by the fact he hasn't scolded her for her tone, watches on with interest, and likewise a number of the Scions taking respite in The Waking Sands seem to lean in closer despite feigning their focus elsewhere. Urianger even tilts his head. Just a little.

Beside her, the newest adventurer to their order presses the pad of his finger to the tip of her nose. He smiles broadly, revealing nothing, and reaches for a biscuit plated at the center of the table before hopping up and sashaying his way out towards the hall.

Yda watches him as he goes. Sighing she says, “Silent, as usual.”

“Always an air of mystery, that one,” Papalymo agrees.

Y'shtola in her quiet observation hums, while Urianger returns to the tome in his hands. Leaning against a pillar opposite of the exit, however, Thancred lifts his linkpearl to his ear and nods like he's getting a message from Minfilia, muttering under his breath in case anyone is watching too closely. When he departs, he turns opposite the Solar.

He approaches the bench to where Killian retreated.

“Not now, Thancred.” The adventurer - new to the Echo and to the Scions; new to Eorzean politics, primals, and tempering; new to being an ally of city leaders and to having so many eyes watching his movements - runs his hand wearily through the red hair that's come loose of the leather band that keeps it tied back. The free strands frame his face, which reddens at Thancred's presence beneath his dusting of freckles. In distinctly miqo'te fashion, his tail twitches in agitation.

Undeterred, Thancred leans against the wall beside him, mirroring the nonchalance of his earlier position and waiting for the adventurer's initial discomfort to calm. There's still much for Killian to reconcile with his new blessing, not the least of which is the type of attention his deeds will garner. Thancred can see it happening already, as well as just how strongly Killian bristles when it occurs, despite the persona he gives off. He's really not so hard for Thancred to read at all, which is probably why Killian continues to keep him at arm's length and why Thancred should probably explain just how he knows so much. A show of good faith.

“I can speak to them,” he offers eventually, after a few moments of silence. “If that's something you would want.”

“What would you know about it?” Killian's eyes flash dangerously, as he hisses. “Just because you know my history - it doesn't mean you -”

“I know about it.” Thancred takes a deep breath, steadying the pounding of his heart. “I know it bothers you” - what I know about you. He waves a hand between them. “But being on the street, being nameless, feeling worthless, with no family, no coin, no nameday, all of that. I know.” He tells him then. How he grew up on the streets of Limsa, how all he had was ‘Thancred’ in those days, how he'd look at travelers like marks instead of people and steal from them without a care, how he knew to send him to the Rogues guild all those years ago because he knew Jacke Swallow personally, along with what he'd been through.

“They'll not judge you by your history,” he offers kindly when he's done. “I hope you can see that.”

Killian shakes his head, the light in his right eye dim, despite the influence of the blessing. Thancred has only seen them both emerald once, but the evening Thancred saved Killian from being recaptured by his former slavers was among the topics they do not discuss. He's certain that was the miqo'te's first calling from Hydaelyn too.

“Don't go there,” Killian warns, the tremor in his voice a little too apparent for the words to come off threatening. “Please.”

Thancred hadn't planned on it (he said the part that mattered), but he nods all the same. “Of course.”

Content to lead the conversation into silence to give Killian time to think about what he learned, Thancred discreetly watches the emotions play across his face. The newest Scion has yet to ask him to leave, which Thancred takes as acceptance of, if not appreciation for, his presence being there. Feeling bold, he gently reaches down to grasp Killian's shoulder to let him know he's not alone. Thancred's comforted that it was the right move when Killian leans slightly toward him.

He asks, “What did you do for your nameday?”

“I just picked a date,” Thancred shrugs, pulling his hand back and recrossing his arms. It hadn't mattered much to him at the time. “First Sun of the Fourth Astral Moon. You could do the same.”

“Unofficial nameday of all wayward street kids?”

“No, no.” It’s Thancred’s turn to flush. “I mean you could also simply choose a date.”

“I know, Thancred.” And Killian laughs at him. “Obviously, I’d pick a different day”

“How about the end of the Moon? We can have wayward street kids name-summer. Celebrate all Moon leading into Moonfire Faire.”

Killian thinks about it, not looking him the eye.

“Maybe," he says, then adds, “I don't even know my age. Not really.”

“Do you want my estimation?” Thancred has studied his features before, but does so again. Asking how many Starlights he remembers will do no good since so much of Killian's youth was reserved for solely the work he was forced to do in the mines for his "employers." But there's quite a bit he can find out just from observing. When Killian reluctantly nods under the scrutiny, Thancred reconciles the sharp, defined features of the young man he knows today with the slightly rounder face of the one he met a few years ago in a tavern. “Twenty-five. Give or take a year.”

Killian inhales, doing math of his own. “I've been free eleven years.” He doesn't need to say what he means by that. It was only after they met that Killian took up adventuring. Before that he did what he needed to survive in a world that never taught him how. Not even 15 and on the streets of Ul'dah, entertaining - just music at first.

Thancred nods. “You would've been picked up young, yes.” His companion pales. “I fear I've done a terrible job aiding you. Has any of this helped?”

Killian doesn't answer right away, but he corrects his posture and re-ties his hair back, and his tail has settled into a curl around his thighs like a hug. He seems calmer. “Yes. You... you see... too much though.”

“I know,” Thancred admits. He won't apologize for it. “That's my job, Killian.”

~.~

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Warrior of Light/Thancred Waters, Warrior of Light & Thancred Waters Characters: Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Thancred Waters Additional Tags: Pre-Relationship, Character Study, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV) Summary:

Shortly after the defeat of the Ultima Weapon, the newly-titled Warrior of Light and Thancred have a heart-to-heart about all that's happened.

Among the pitch darkness she lives in, he's the moonlight for her. But darkness also protects them in it's own way.

Wolcred Week Day 1: Autumn

#weeklyinspiration prompt from blusky

𝘋𝘢𝘺 5: 𝘓𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 | 𝘎𝘪𝘧𝘵