Chapter Text
“Thancred!”
The white haired hyur seemed to flinch a bit as the voice of his adopted son filled the room. From the expression on Luka’s face and the hands on his hips, it was clear that the young miqo’te of eight summers was upset with something Thancred had done. So with a small smile, he kneeled down before Luka.
“I’m listening, Luka. What is it? What’s wrong?”
The miqo’te’s cheeks puffed out gently, brows furrowed as he searched for a way to express his upset properly and concisely.
“You were supposed to come to the guild and watch me spar this morning, but you never showed up.”
Instantly, Thancred felt a sludgy guilt flooding into him. He had agreed to that, but it had completely slipped his mind amongst the business of the past days. After a moment, Thancred sighed as he shook his head.
“You’re right, Luka. I made a promise and I broke it. I’m so sorry.”
With a legitimate apology from his father, Luka’s anger seemed to deflate a bit, though his pout remained firmly in place as his toe dug into a crack in the stone below.
“S’alright, I know you’re busy. I just…I was looking forward to it, that’s all.”
“It doesn’t matter how busy I am, that’s no excuse to break a promise to you,” Thancred countered, trying to think on a solution to make up for his error.
“Do you still want me to come watch? I can swing by the guild tomorrow morning, if you’re up for that?”
The young miqo’te looked morose for a beat before lifting his eyes to meet Thancred’s.
“You promise to be there?”
Thancred smiled at Luka, lifting one hand as the other slowly traced an X over his chest.
“Cross my heart.”
—---
Luka, though Thancred would never admit such aloud, looked like a feral cat, sitting curled on his cot covered in bandages and injuries. A sour expression had settled over the miqo’te’s face, out of place on his normally cheery demeanour. It was made harsher by the dawning maturity on the soon to be fourteen year old’s face. When those blue eyes lifted to his own, Thancred made a small sound before sitting on the foot of the cot.
“Listen, Luka, I’m not trying to kick you when you’re down, believe me. I’m just worried about you. You could have gotten seriously injured. And when you try to take on five thugs on your own…”
He looked pointedly at the injuries as Luka clicked his tongue and looked away, ears flattening against his head as his tail wrapped around his legs.
“I know, I know. It was a foolish thing and I shouldn’t have done it and I’m sorry. But I’m not going to stand by idly and watch a group of bastards harass street kids. It’s not right, and it’s not fair.”
Thancred listened to the words, understanding in a way he hadn’t before. Luka - despite, or perhaps in spite of - growing up on the streets, a reformed thief and orphan, had given him a sense of justice deeply ingrained in him. To prevent harm to others in similar situations, but that justice extended out further. In a stray amazed, and yet terrifying thought, Thancred thought that it was that kind of attitude that could help change the world one day.
“You’re right,” he responded softly to Luka’s previous words. “It isn’t right and it isn’t fair, but unfortunately the world isn’t always as such. It is up to others to speak out against such injustices…but not alone.”
Thancred rested a hand on his son’s knee for a moment, causing the teen to look up at his father.
“You are not alone, Luka. You have people around you that love you and care for you. Momodi is there for you if you need work or someone to patch you up, or honestly to have someone in your corner come a brawl. I’d hate to be on her bad side.”
The words made Luka chuckle, a bit of brightness returning to his eyes as Thancred continued with his own chuckle.
“You have Hamon. Despite his grumbling, that old man would go to bat for you no matter what, not just as a member of the pugilist guild but as a guardian. And of course, you have me. My work may take me away from you but I am always one call away. Whatever trouble you may be in just call and I will rush to your side and remain by your side until that trouble has passed.”
There was a beat of silence as father and son locked eyes, Luka’s lip trembling for a brief moment as he tried to contain his emotions.
“You promise?”
An echo of that conversation from years ago, but Thancred had vowed never to break a promise to Luka again and it was his own personal covenant. With a smile, he lifted a hand and once again crossed over his chest.
“Cross my heart.”
—---
The activity around Luka was bustling, people shouting and carrying things to and fro as the sounds echoed in the large chamber. There was much to be done in preparation for the Ragnaraok to carry them to the edge of the universe, after all.
Luka would be helping, wanted to assist, but he had been told off by a very stern Krile to rest, that he had done enough for now. So he was leaned against a wall, watching the scurrying of everyone pass by as he wished he could do more. It wasn’t until a voice murmured from beside him that Luka realised he wasn’t alone.
“You know, Krile was right. You’ve already done so much and we need you fully rested for what trials lay ahead.”
Luka jumped at the voice, turning to see Thancred standing beside him, eyes on the Ragnaraok that lay in the middle of the room. The miqo’te forgot how quietly his father could move, when he wanted to, but settled himself after a moment.
“Yes, but I feel as though I should be helping, doing something. I don’t like sitting around idle when there is work to be done, tired or not.”
That stirred a chuckle from Thancred who looked to his son with a cocked brow.
“Would you rather pass out and have to have Estinien carry you onto the Ragnarok, like he carried your body off of the battlefield after your fight with Zenos?”
Luka flushed a bit at the words, the reminder of his past weakness as he looked away, ears flattened as a scowl marred his features.
“Don’t remind me of that, please.”
Though he chuckled again, Thancred conceded and returned his gaze back to the Ragnaraok, continuing his previous thoughts.
“I do not mean to embarrass you. I worry about you, as we all do. Not just as our Warrior of Light, but as family. As we all always have. We just want to ensure that you are in your best state, both of body and mind.”
Luka fell silent, still as his mind whirred with a million possibilities, losses and gains, pros and cons, details and minutia that he couldn’t help but linger on. After his mind had run its course, he looked at the floor as he spoke.
“But if I do not help, do not do every little thing that needs doing, then there is the possibility that we….that some of us may not come home. And I would never be able to live knowing that it is my fault. Knowing that had I just done more, I could have stopped it.”
And there it was; the true fear that Luka carried with him, the fear of loss. Thancred was quiet as Luka fretted, though the older man’s expression darkened a bit at the words, unspoken fears running rampant across his own face.
“Luka, listen…this mission is dangerous. Every single one of us is aware of the risks, the possibility of danger and yes, even of death. Were we not prepared to handle that then we would not be preparing to go. We have no idea what Meteion has in store at the edge of the universe…but we must go. We must stop the Final Days and finally give Etheirys the peace it deserves.”
Luka knew the truth in the words, knew that his father spoke truth. But it pained him when he thought of losing anyone, like a lance through the chest. The weight of their mission, of the world, of everyone’s hopes and dreams…it was a heavy thing, and it pressed down upon the Warrior of Light. They had everything to lose, and freedom to gain.
“Thancred…promise me something.”
The hyur looked to Luka as he spoke, cocking a brow as he nodded gently in leiu of an answer, prompting the other to continue.
“Promise me that everyone, including you, will do their utmost to return home when all is said and done. No noble sacrifices to protect the rest of us. I want us all to return home, together.”
Thancred blinked at the words, eyes a bit wide as he looked over his son. In the twenty five summers of Luka’s life, the miqo’te had been through so much and Thancred counted himself lucky to watch the transformation from thief on the streets to the lauded Warrior of Light. But he also knew that Luka often took on burdens silently, by himself, to spare those around him from hurting. Hearing the request, as selfish as it could be, was surprising and it twisted Thancred’s heart.
He turned to the miqo’te, moving to stand before him as he placed both hands on Luka’s shoulders, face firm as he nodded oh so gently.
“We will, Luka. All of us will return together.”
“Promise?”
The word slid from Luka’s lips before he could stop it, eyes dewy with tears that he would not allow himself to shed. Seeing that, Thancred pulled his son into a hug without a thought, crushing him to his chest.
“I promise, Luka. Cross my heart.”