A short warning: subtle triggering themes may come up in this part of the tale...
Tale Twenty-Six, Wherever His Feet will Take Him
Not much was said after Therion had met the rest of the Octopath Travelers on his way out of Bolderfall from Ravus Manor.
He just kept walking north, out of town and away from Cordelia who had come to see him off. The Travelers felt they should follow him. It wasn't until Alfyn caught up with him and asked him where he was going that the thief had said, "Wherever we need to go next."
And that was that.
They had confirmed that Therion would stay with the Octopath Travelers and went from there. Alfyn had something to check out in the Cliftlands, so that was where they'd be traveling to next.
Even so, Orewell was more than one day's walk west of Bolderfall. They would have to camp on their way there.
The rest of the Travelers thought that when they stopped for the night that would be when they could talk to him about everything that had happened within that past week. After all, even a cold-hearted thief (as Therion had claimed) would still feel something after killing his only friend from his previous life. Couple that with leaving behind somebody that Therion could call his patron and there had to be some hard feelings the thief would confront, whether he wanted to or not.
Yet, as soon as the Octopath Travelers had chosen a spot to camp, Therion wandered off towards a cliff overlooking a chasm below. It didn't take long for the others to notice that he had set up his own fire away from everyone else. The thief had purposefully made things more difficult.
Alfyn wasn't dissuaded, however, and prepared some stew, anticipating that Therion would come to join them for dinner. But the Travelers cooked, they served their meal, and those who wanted seconds had them. And still, Therion hadn't returned.
"One of us needs to go talk to him," Ophilia muttered around a spoonful of her third serving of stew.
"Yeah, but who? We only have one chance to check on him before he closes up like a tightly-locked clam," Tressa informed half-helpfully.
"Well, I can go," Alfyn stated, already standing up from his seated position next to Ophilia.
"No offense, Alfyn, but I believe someone with a little more glib to the tongue should be the first to speak to our lost lorn thief," Cyrus argued gently yet logically. "Would the rest of you not agree?"
"Oh, come off it, Cyrus. I think I got plenty o' glib to my tongue. Right, Ophilia?"
The apothecary turned to his loved one, who had suddenly taken a keen interest in her empty bowl, her mouth nibbling on her spoon.
"Right…?" Alfyn asked once more.
"Sorry, Al, but I gotta say if Therion needed some words of encouragement I'd send you out there with a swift kick to your ass. But…" Tressa started.
"He needs someone who is willing to distract him before getting to the heart of the problem," Olberic finished surprisingly.
The rest of the Travelers stared at him for a moment, wondering if they had heard the warrior right. He immediately caught onto their gazes and sighed briefly.
"As a Knight of Hornsburg, we were required to study all aspects of chivalry - that included learning when to say what and what to say when, and being conscious of our words."
For a few seconds longer, the Travelers could only stare at the warrior, who had grown more uncomfortable under their gazes. Primarily that of a certain huntress.
Swift scribbling broke everyone out of their trances and they turned their gazes to the obvious source: Cyrus, who had started recording what the former knight had said.
"Professor, I believen now ist not the time," H'aanit started clearly.
"But if not now, then when, my dear?" Cyrus replied, not even so much as glancing up from his journal.
The huntress could only sigh and give Olberic an apologetic look. He took the attempt gratefully, showing it with a small and a brief squeeze of H'aanit's shoulder.
"But back to the matter at hand," Olberic continued "I believe there is only one of us that Therion would so casually converse with."
As if everyone's head was on a uniform swivel, they directed their eyes towards Primrose, who hadn't spoken up at all since leaving Bolderfall.
Her own eyes were shifting from Therion's location towards the fire, without even a hint of hiding her action. For once, her gestures were genuine without any secrecy that she preferred to keep up to serve as something to hide behind. Perhaps that could be due to Therion, perhaps that could be due to her lingering broken heart, but the Travelers watching her all believed both recent events played a role in the dancer's current openness.
"Primrose?" Ophilia spoke up first. "Would you…?"
"Of course," Primrose answered before the cleric's question was finished.
As if she had waited for permission to go and see to Therion, the brunette sprung up from her spot around the fire. She pulled the shawl she had around her shoulders closer, using it to protect her body from the cold night air of the Cliftlands as she left the warmth of the fire behind her.
Why she hadn't seen to him before then, or why she had waited for permission to see to him, Primrose didn't know. But it wasn't like the thief to be so quiet around her. Everyone else, sure, but never around her.
After all, someone had to win their ongoing duel of words.
Once she had reached the cliff where Therion had set up his fire, she noticed his eyes gazing into the darkness below him, his shawl and scarf folded neatly next to the fire.
"Hey, Twinkle Toes," Therion spoke, knocking Primrose out of her thought process.
A hint of sadness, unnoticed by anyone else but her, snuck into Primrose. "Back to using that nickname?" she quipped with a forced hint of mirth.
Therion chuckled dryly. "Guess so."
Primrose took a seat next to Therion, joining him in gazing into the dark chasm below.
"You know, I could easily just move a little bit forward and there I'd go," the thief stated simply, out of nowhere. "Just… gone."
That brought back the dancer's thought process from earlier. Her words came out calm, her demeanor trying to exert the same.
"And you would just leave me like that? Without finishing our duel?" her words came out smooth, a speckle of humor and flirtation dotting them.
The thief scoffed. "Never. But that doesn't stop me from thinking about it now and then. Especially after losing the only man I thought was my friend."
"But you know that isn't true anymore," Primrose interjected.
"Right. I have you and Doc back there."
This time the dancer snapped. "Again with the nicknames! Why have you gone back to those?"
Primrose stared at him with daggers in her eyes, frustration fueling her words as she awaited this infuriating man's response.
When Therion turned away from the darkness below and looked at Primrose all of those feelings washed away from the dancer.
Unshed tears dotted the corners of Therion's eyes.
His mouth held in a firm line and the rest of his face steeled in an attempt to hide the signs of emotion highlighting his face, he stated, "Because it's easy that way."
Despite the vulnerability, Primrose's irritation returned hotter than before. "Easy? Easy to what!?"
"It's none of your business," Therion replied through gritted teeth.
"As your friend, it is my business! After everything, we've been through and now you wish to return to this childish way of keeping us at a distance?"
That hit Therion.
"Stop."
"You have helped Alfyn and me through so much these past months, to the point where we are essentially family by bond. Yet, you dare to keep us at arm's length again without thinking about us?"
The thief lowered his face.
"That isn't…"
"Why would you even think about doing that? Are we nothing but temporary traveling companions to you? People who will only appear in your life and then disappear just like that? Just like Darius!?"
A sharp inhale of breath stopped Primrose in her tracks and she knew she had hit the point of the matter. The pint-up anger she had only just started blowing off vanished almost entirely. It didn't take her much longer to connect the dots.
"You're… you're scared that we're going to leave."
"Hmph, yeah, you got it," Therion affirmed with choked-out words.
Then, there was silence. One that loomed for a time that was longer than it felt. Never had Therion been so vulnerable - so crystal clear - with his emotions with anyone. Let alone that Primrose had only revealed a portion of herself and her past to the other women of the Octopath Travelers.
Not to Therion.
Perhaps, that was where she could begin.
She settled next to Therion, relaxing and attempting a small smile. "Never would've guessed you to have feelings like these bottled up. But I guess your silver tongue would serve as good protection from facing them."
The thief let out a short, humorless laugh. "Again. You caught me."
"Then we are two of the same, are we not?"
That caught Therion by surprise. "You have something to say?"
"Yes, but… wait a moment, I believe we'll both need a little liquid courage for this conversation."
Primrose carefully stood from her position and fast-walked back to the camp. She didn't interact with any of the other Travelers and went straight for her bag. Within a few seconds, she had found what she had been searching for and departed the camp as quickly as she had returned. Minutes later, she found herself sitting down beside Therion once more.
It didn't take long for the thief to notice what she had brought with her. His mood had almost completely turned around upon seeing it.
"Oh ho, the good stuff, huh?"
Primrose held out a well-designed decanter, taking a moment to remove the stopper and throw it over the edge of the cliff. "A little brandy to wet your whistle?"
"Why'd you throw the cap away?"
"We won't need it, trust me."
The dancer took a swig of the expensive liquor, savoring the honeyed burn it provided, tasting much like a spiced apple whats cinnamony sweetness danced along with the tongue before warming the belly and throat.
It was enough to make her sigh in contentment before handing the bottle to Therion.
"The rules here have changed for a moment, Therion," she spoke seriously. "No longer are we dueling, now we're wagering: a drink for a confession. I believe after this long holding ourselves back, we may need it."
Therion paused in taking his drink, catching Primrose's words and watching her out of the corner of his eyes. She didn't watch back, turning her gaze to the empty, dark chasm below and the peppering bright stars above, wondering which was watching her as closely as the thief.
By drinking the brandy, he'd accept her wager.
And yet, he only had to think on her words for a split second before mimicking her earlier movements and downing a mouthful of the sweetened liquor.
After all, how often did one have an opportunity to indulge in such a delicate delectable drink? Not often, never for free.
"Deal," he answered softly. "Then I'll start."
Therion handed the brandy back to Primrose before stating, "Darius was a bastard - a cold-hearted bastard, but a friend. Someone I thought I could trust without asking. Obviously, I was wrong, and I paid for it. You can't blame me for being defensive or suspicious now, right?"
"No, I couldn't."
Primrose drank.
"I always thought the world was a cruel place, one that would treat anyone unfairly without reason. But at least I still had friends out there I could call on, until that… that man reminded me that friends would turn on you without a moment's pause."
Therion hummed thoughtfully, his hand outstretched waiting for the bottle. Primrose collected herself before giving it to him.
He took it and drank.
"Then he didn't deserve being called your friend."
Primrose shallowly laughed. "That was not a confession about you."
"Fine, then I believe he didn't deserve being called your friend. Besides, you have friends you can count on now."
She smiled. "You're right. I think that's more of a confession about you than you think."
"I know what I said. Here."
Therion shoved the drink towards Primrose, before reaching back and throwing some more kindling on his fire. He also pulled his scarf around him, starting to feel the night chill and protecting himself from it.
All of this didn't go unnoticed by Primrose. Albeit, she acted innocent in her actions as she daintily sipped from the bottle of brandy.
"No matter what has happened, we care about you, Therion. Even after all of this is over, we won't simply just fade away from your life."
Both Travelers felt the brandy blooming in their stomachs, easing out some of the emotions they felt and kept tightly hidden from the world. Whether the warmth in their faces came from the brandy, the fire, or the knowledge of sharing what they felt, they couldn't know.
With a shrug, Therion accepted that it could be all three. He reached for the brandy, took it, drank, and leaned back on his hands, subconsciously inching closer to Primrose.
"I hope so. All of you are… annoying and hard to keep around for a thief. But you make things interesting and… they can be fun sometimes. I don't wanna, y'know, lose that."
It was Primrose's turn. She shifted to sitting on her legs, her hand next to Therion's now.
She drank.
"You won't."
Therion scoffed and turned to her.
"That's your confession this round?"
Primrose laughed, something oddly melodious about it that the thief hadn't heard before. Now, it rang and reverberated in his ears much more warmly than it had any other time he'd heard it.
Why? Well, he couldn't quite put an answer to it, and that was fine.
"Yes, my dear. Confessing that I wouldn't let that happen is a bit of an intimate answer, don't you think?"
"You wouldn't?" Therion asked.
Primrose paused for but a second before turning to the thief and locking eyes with him. "No. I wouldn't."
There they held his eyes, daring him to make a move.
And he paused, the protective door he kept his feelings behind starting to slowly close.
When he subtly and slightly turned away, Primrose knew what was happening.
So, she moved like a dancer would to command his attention.
Primrose crashed her lips into Therion's, demanding he focus on her and let any emotions he'd been keeping in loose.
Once he found himself, he did just that, becoming carried away in the moment by the brandy, by Primrose, and by himself. A tear trailed down his cheek as he allowed himself to be vulnerable, something he had come to terms with slowly but surely over his time with the Octopath Travelers.
Over his time with Primrose.
Their lips continued moving against the other's, their tongues tentatively exploring their partner's mouth. Neither of them knew who pulled the other to the ground first, but it didn't take long for them to find themselves there, one on top of the other.
Overlooking that chasm, under the stars, next to a fire, they felt more in their world than they had ever felt as they shared in each other's company that night. Never had either felt more secure.
They awoke to the early morning light. The ponchos' they wore as thieves covered their bodies and a boulder outcropping protected them from the prying view of their companions. They held each other close, reveling in the warmth as much as they could.
"You believe me now, yes?" Primrose asked.
For once in his life, Therion didn't bother hiding his true answer behind words and simply responded, "Yes."
No other response was required and they continued drinking the brandy they had left unattended to help with the nagging hangover that plagued their morning together.
I hope you will forgive me for brushing over such an intimate exchange.
Everyone is entitled to their private moments, even the Octopath Travelers.
But do we not always hide something from one another, in one way or another, about one thing or another?
There are ways to best peel away at such stubbornness and share in such truths, our emotions that have become so foreign to us only accessible by an equally foreign moment.
Perhaps we should all give such oddities a chance if only to learn a little more about ourselves and those we hold dear.
If only to remember that we have those we can trust as friends, family, and loved ones.
But all actions have consequences and I believe there will be some aftermath regarding this event between the reserved thief and the secretive dancer with the other members of the Octopath Travelers…