She pushed open the door, and T’nbuela looked up from the grimy counter she was wiping down with a rag. “Adalyn,” she said warmly as Adalyn approached the bar, tossing a handful of gil down in front of her. “The usual, then?” “Please.” Adalyn’s eyes traveled over the miqo’te’s face, following the angle of her jaw before tracing the curve of her upper lip with her eyes. “Say, the Krakens’ll be in town for the next few weeks… don’t suppose ye’d be interested in comin’ back to the ship for a—?” “If this is a proposition, the answer is no,” T’nbuela said, pouring Adalyn her requested drink and sliding the tankard across the bar. “Got enough men takin’ a pass without you addin’ to the lot.” Adalyn winced, but nodded, touching two fingers to her brow in a casual salute. “Understood, ma’am.” T’nbuela grinned at her as she folded her arms on the bar. “At least ye’ve got manners, unlike most ruffians,” she said. She lifted her chin, and Adalyn followed her gaze to the silver-haired man nursing a tankard of his own in the back corner of the dim room. “Though ‘e took rejection better’n most. Not half-bad lookin’ if ye want to shoot yer shot.” “Might do just that, then,” Adalyn said, and tossed another coin her way. “Cheers.” She made her way over to the handsome stranger, but stopped several fulms from the table, zeroing in on the tattoos that adorned his neck. The man looked up, giving her an easy smile as he looked her up and down. “Why, hello,” he said. “You know, I’m quite used to having beautiful women stare at me, but is there something you needed?” Adalyn inclined her head, tapping her neck in a mirror of his tattoos. “Ye’ve archon marks.”
“You recognise them?” He seemed pleased at her statement. “If you’d like to join me at my table, perhaps I could regale you with the tale of the harrowing ordeal I went through to earn them?” He smiled, looking up at her through his lashes. Adalyn sat, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned forward in her chair. “I think names’d be in order first?” she said, and held out a hand. “Adalyn Keene.” “Thancred Waters, and may I say, the pleasure is all mine?” Thancred returned the handshake, but the moment his fingers closed on Adalyn’s skin, her vision went black. Of all the timing in the world…!
He darted between the legs of shoppers in Hawker’s Alley, eyes scanning their belts for a promising target. There, hanging at the hip of an elderly elezen—perfect. Thancred made a show of bumping into him, snatching the pouch off his belt as he ran by. “Sorry!” he called over his shoulder, and for a moment, he nearly thought he’d gotten away with it before a gust of wind swept his feet out from under him, and he landed on his back, air rushing from his lungs. The elezen he’d tried to pickpocket bent over him, plucking his purse from Thancred’s fingers. “I believe that belongs to me,” he said—but then he helped Thancred to his feet, tugged open the drawstrings, and pressed a few coins into an astonished Thancred’s hand. Thancred looked up with wide eyes, hardly daring to believe his luck that the man wasn’t furious with him. “Can I go?” “A moment.” The elezen knelt, putting them at eye level, and his own crinkled in a kindly smile. “What’s your name, lad?” “Who wants to know?” Thancred said hotly. “Louisoix Leveilleur.” “...Thancred Waters.” He glanced away. Louisoix sat back on his haunches, bracing his staff on the cobbles for support as he studied Thancred. “An orphan’s name,” he said. “Is there no one looking out for you, Thancred?” “I can look out for myself just fine,” Thancred said, his nostrils flaring. Louisoix inclined his head. “If you’ve need of coin, lad, there are better ways to obtain it than thieving.” He held out a hand to Thancred. “If I offer to buy you a meal, would you perhaps indulge an old man and listen to his tale?”
Adalyn swayed and caught herself on the edge of the table before she could topple out of her seat and onto the filthy floorboards. Thancred caught her by the elbow at the same moment, looking at her with no small astonishment. “Are you alright?” “Fine,” Adalyn said, tugging her arm away and straightening up. “How long was I—?” “Having a vision?” Thancred cut in, and Adalyn sat up like she’d been electrocuted. “How’d ye know?” she breathed. Any semblance of seduction was gone, Thancred’s expression serious as he folded his hands on the table in front of him. “This is not the first time you’ve had such a vision, I’d wager, where you find yourself walking in another man’s memories,” he said, and after a moment, Adalyn nodded, eyeing him warily. “You have a gift, Adalyn, a very rare and special gift. I recognised it the moment you had your little fainting spell because I know others like you—others blessed with the power of the Echo.” It was the first time she’d met anyone with knowledge of the strange fits that had plagued her since childhood, that more than once had cursed her with knowledge of things she had no right to be seeing. It was the first time anyone had ever referred to it as a gift, a blessing, but Thancred seemed to know what he was talking about, and more importantly, he knew others like her, others working to stop the Empire’s advances as they marched on Eorzea. When Adalyn returned to the Misery that evening, it was with a heart heavy in the knowledge of what she was about to do.
heard it was Thancred day, so here's (I believe) something I've never posted before: how Adalyn met him
#IxiMakes #IxiWrites #AdaLore
