Original Ao3 chapter summary:

Just a little thing set after chapter 33 of the main fic!

Thancred leaned against the wall of the Rising Stone's lounge, crossing his arms as he tried to pretend he wasn't looking too closely at the figure slowly circling the circumference of the room in aimless, restless steps for what had to be the sixth or seventh time.

When Ren had returned from his abrupt job-related absence it had been with a distant expression, clearly troubled by the weight of serious thought and a lingering malaise. Though lapsing into bouts of extended silence was not at all uncommon for him, the complete lack of joking quips or light-hearted remarks to any of his comrades certainly was. He had even been distant with the Doman children when they had surrounded him for an update on his latest venture, giving only the briefest of greetings and a very forced smile as he gently extracted himself from their excited hands, explaining that he needed to report to Minfilia first before aught else.

Thancred had shared a troubled look with Ly— Yda. They'd both kept themselves busy in the lounge, hovering by the hallway to the solar with pensive unease as they waited for Ren's return.

Unfortunately it had grown late, and Yda needed to be about some business she had elsewhere. Thancred had given her his solemn promise that he would keep a close eye on their mutual friend after he was done with his prolonged conversation with the Antecedent, waving Yda away as she bit at her lip.

"I-is he upset with us, do you think? Did we miss his namesday? I don't actually know when it is— that would be terrible, given he's always so homesick…! Oh, I knew I should've tried harder to track down some of that extra-sticky rice he's always on about…"

"If it's something one of us can help with, then I assure you I will coax it out of him, you have my word." He reassured Yda as she lingered by the front door, "Pray, attend to your duties. I know Joker would hate to see you so distraught."

When the man of the hour at last made his appearance, he had given only the vaguest acknowledgement of Thancred's presence with a distracted nod. Which had then led to his current fixation of slowly wearing holes in the loungeroom carpet from how many times he had turned on his heel.

Thancred, pretending to be invested in examining the blade of a knife, at last proposed the question weighing on his mind with a faux-cavalier tone.

"Pray tell— what's on your mind, Ren? You've been pacing for a good quarter-bell now."

And Ren finally came to a stop. He wavered for a moment, looking uncertain.

And then he made his way over to an armchair by the fireplace— the nice soft one that Tataru or Y'shtola often called in the evenings, and from which they were conspicuously absent tonight.

Ren groaned, flopping down heavily upon a cushion, He leaned his head and arms over the back of the chair, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

"So you know this whole Crystal Tower excursion thing?" He said to Thancred after a good moment of silence, who nodded vaguely. He'd been informed of where exactly Ren had vanished to the past couple of weeks— as explained by a guilty-looking Urianger— and he knew that things had somehow escalated drastically as they always seemed to whenever Ren got involved. But he wasn't certain of the specifics.

"Well, uh, while I was helping out the folks there I kind of flirted with a cute guy and we kissed and then he locked himself away to sleep inside a giant tower for possibly centuries?" Ren continued rapidly, the words coming out in an increasingly high pitch as if he couldn't believe what he was saying.

Thancred blinked.

"Ah." He lowered his knife. Romance troubles. Thancred wanted to be relieved that the issue was something so mundane— and healthy, even, after all the hardships the boy had endured of late. But as the utterly bizarre twist in the tale confirmed, things could never be straightforward in the whirlwind of chaos that was Ren "Joker" Amamiya's existence.

He was silent for a good moment before raising a hand to his chin, "…That's rough, friend."

What else was there to say, really?

"I don't think it was related." Ren added after a pause. Then he suddenly threw himself forward with a gasp, eyes wide with alarm, "I mean, it wasn't, was it? He wasn't trying to get away from me, was he?!"

He stood up abruptly, expression growing wild, head snapping to Thancred with a slightly mad and panicked fervor, "Am I that bad at kissing?!"

"I'm sure you did fine." Thancred waved a dismissive hand, "And I think a prolonged self-induced coma would be a bit of a grandiose move just to turn someone down."

"Yeah, but I'm a grandiose person!" No argument there— Ren was out of his chair and already pacing again, "Oh gods, I scared him away! He fucking 'fairytale princessed' himself because of me!"

He was starting to spiral in a most Yda-ly fashion now. Determined to subdue his frenzy, Thancred hummed doubtfully, slipping his knife into its sheath, "I don't know about that. From the way you've described it, it sounded like more of a romantic gesture, really."

That seemed to get through to him a little. Ren creased his pacing again, looking at Thancred pleadingly with eyes like a lost puppy.

"…You think so?"

Ah, youth! So much for the declaration that he would not be taking the romantic advice of an 'old man'.

"Of course! Trust in my years of extensive experience with courtship." Thancred added, grinning and patting at Ren's shoulder, before taking a seat of his own, "And if we continue this fairytale analogy, then perhaps you'll have the prime opportunity to awaken your lost beloved with another kiss?" He added teasingly, eyebrows raised.

Ren's hopeful face fell into an irritated frown. He grabbed a cushion off of the chair and pressed his face into it, slumping down before the fireplace.

"How about we stop talking for a while." His voice came muffled against the satin.

But for all Ren's indignation at Thancred's light-hearted jabs, he could tell the boy's mood had lifted considerably.

"After one last question, I swear." Thancred leaned forward with his fingers steepled together innocently, "Tell me… How was my earlier advice? Did you perchance let him run his fingers tenderly over your scar?"

Ren pelted the cushion at him.

A sword flashed through the air, blade reflecting the afternoon sun. It swept in a low horizontal slice, catching the tops of the tall blades of grass that grew wild and tangled in the field by Lake Silvertear.

Joker's mouth quirked in a confident smirk as he held his ground. He jumped into a backflip at just the right moment, his coattails trailing in the air behind him as he dodged the blade, before landing back down with knees bent and a hand in the dirt.

His eyes flashed. He twisted his ankle, kicking off from the ground in a cloud of dust as he launched himself at his opponent with startling speed.

Hoary Boulder's eyes widened as Joker closed in, scrambling to bring his blade back up to guard his body. But it was too late. Joker's fist collided solidly with his chestplate. There was a rush of rippling aether, a small quake that shook the ground beneath their feet. And then the metal indented beneath his knuckles. The Roegadyn's great weight was sent tumbling down the slope, hands scrambling for purchase as he almost rolled into the lake.

Hoary groaned into a puddle of mud, struggling to lift his head up.

"Good… blow…" He groaned, before his face dropped back down with a splash.

A chorus of shouts came from the hill above them.

"That was amazing, Mister Joker!" Koharu screamed, jumping up and down alongside Yozan.

"Keep going, keep going!"

"Get up Mister Boulder!" Shiun, the dangerously curious Doman child who had strayed away from their table at the Quicksand, raised his hands to his mouth, "You can't get knocked out that quick, come on!"

"Mister Coultenet's still on his feet— Shoot some fire, shoot some fire!" Called Rokka. Usually such a shy girl, today she had been whipped into an excitable and slightly bloodthirsty frenzy alongside the others.

The three Scions were currently engaged outside Revenant's Toll in a sparring session, an audience of very excited children watching their every move with rapt attention, feet perilously close to the edge of the incline like attentive viewers from a stage gallery.

The whole thing had unsurprisingly been Hoary Boulder's idea. Apparently the young Domans had take to pestering him endlessly about learning the basics of Western-style of swordplay for days now.

"A demonstration of skill at arms, if you will." Hoary had finished his excitable explanation after Joker had returned to the Rising Stones from an errand, a fresh cup of coffee from F'lhaminn in hand that he was now realizing he probably wouldn't get to savor.

"Hoary," His mage companion had sighed, "If I didn't know you better─ and I do─ I'd say you were merely seeking to test yourself against a legend."

And the Roegadyn had let out a boisterous laugh, grinding a fist to his palm, "Well, mayhaps I am! But what matters the motive when the children stand to learn so much from the lesson?"

And Joker had agreed to it for several reasons. One, he genuinely enjoyed sparring quite a lot– a fact Akechi could attest to. It was just fundamentally exhilarating to test himself against an equally eager opponent. Two, it made for a good learning experience for the fellow Scions and Doman children alike. While seasoned adventurers, Hoary and Coultenet were both ever on the lookout for opportunities to improve their martial skills— something that would only be a boon with the sort of remarkable and often extremely life-threatening trials that came of being a Scion of the Seventh Dawn. And the kids were themselves interested in learning self-defence— Which was perhaps a little heartbreaking to think about, but sadly probably necessary with how much strife there was in this world.

And third? Well, Joker was simply itching to test out some new moves. Widargelt, his teacher in the way of the Ala Mhigan Monk style of unarmed combat, had drilled many new forms into his head when they'd met again this morning, the two having been at last called in for work by the ever irritating Professor Erik. A profoundly tedious experience that mostly involved being verbally berated while they had set up the scholar's bulky aether-sensitive equipment at the long-forgotten sites of ancient battles.

But bodyguard duty had been a valuable learning experience, and that made the following afternoon not only a good opportunity to put theory to practice, but also for Joker to let out some steam from a day of continually having his intelligence belittled.

And that besides– he needed the distraction in general.

Joker peered through the disturbed cloud of dust that billowed around him. Turned slowly at an audible gulp, eyes narrowing dangerously at his new target.

Standing off to the side was Coultenet, Hoary's reluctant partner in the two-on-one bout. The lanky Elezen's hands shook a little on his staff as he seemed to compose an internal prayer. He grit his teeth, pulling the broad brim of his wizard hat down with one hand and extending the weapon with the other.

"F-Flames of judgment, blaze and burn!"

Joker cocked his head to the side, looking casually amused. Then he broke into a sprint. Rapidly closed the distance as the panicked mage threw spell after spell at him.

Left, right, left again— dodging around each streaking ball of flame and letting them erupt harmlessly behind him.

He bent his knees and jumped, his dark figure blocking out the sun in Coultenet's sight.

Coultenet looked up, eyes widening with mounting dread as Joker's shadow fell over him.

"Ah." He said simply, before Joker's elbow collided with his temple. The mage dropped to the ground, face planted among the grass.

Joker straightened himself, adjusting his gloves. Turned at a sudden roar— Hoary Boulder, armor dented and face splattered with mud, had pulled himself to his feet, seeking vengeance for himself and his fallen comrade. He charged at Joker with his sword pulled back in both hands.

And as the blade swung down did Joker clap his hands together, catching the blunted sides between his gloved palms and halting its sharp edge a ilm from his face. He grinned fiercely as Hoary's mouth dropped with awe and horror.

There was a collective gasp from the onlookers. And Joker took advantage of the man's stunned state to drop low and sweep out a leg.

Unbalanced, Hoary fell back, landing flatly on his arse with a loud thud and rattle of armor. Joker snatched his sword out of the air as it spun from his grip, twirling it in his hand before pointing the tip at Hoary's neck.

A repeat of his finishing blow when he'd sparred with Clutchfather Novv, but hey– if it worked once, it was probably good to keep working a few times more.

The Roegadyn blinked up at him from the ground. Let his great shoulders sag with a disappointed sigh.

And the Doman children erupted into a chorus of wild cheers. Yozan was practically hooting while Koharu clapped her small hands together as hard as she could, eyes shining.

He gave them a little half-bow, urge for theatricality winning out against modesty just a bit. Then he returned to his sparring partners. Joker bent over the fallen Roegadyn as he shook his dizzy head. He flashed a cocky smirk, before dropping the sword and offering a helping hand.

Hoary guffawed. Loudly clapped his hand in Joker's palm, letting the smaller man awkwardly help him up despite the unfavorable disparity in height and weight.

"Sorry... Are you two alright?" Joker asked sheepishly as Hoary turned and picked his Elezen companion up like a particularly long and floppy cat, setting him back on his feet. Joker hopped to the mage's side, apologetically letting a glow of White magic tend to his injury. Coultenet waved a hand at him, insisting he was fine... though his knees wobbled and he kept rubbing at the side of his head.

Hoary, at least, was still perfectly exuberant.

"No need for apologies! You were just doing exactly as we asked! And what an honor it was to have you agree to our bout." He added, grinning broadly despite being peppered in mud and bruises, "And when you caught my sword in your bare hands like that— by the gods, what a show!"

Joker grinned wryly, pulling his hand away from the bruising on Coultenet's temple, "Honestly, I didn't even know if I could pull that off. I just thought I'd go for it."

His reluctant patient blinked at him, the nauseous green tint to his face almost matching his robes, "That... was quite the dangerous gamble."

Joker shrugged, "Better to test it out with someone who isn't actually trying to kill me."

"Solid reasoning, I suppose."

"And I must thank the gods 'twas not a duel to the death!" Hoary boomed, throwing back his head with laughter, "I will, however, cherish the lesson of each scrape and bruise as I work to better my swordplay."

It took Joker a good while to answer the inevitable barrage of questions that followed from Yozan and the others, but eventually he was free from eager shining eyes to retire to the Rising Stones for the day. With Higiri and Kikyo thankfully rounding up the kids for supper, he passed by the kitchens for his own bite to eat.

After insisting he take off his dirty gloves, Tataru had cheerfully pressed a freshly baked cookie into Joker's hands, her chubby smile bright. Joker chewed at it while he idly roamed the halls of his home away from Earth, enjoying the sweetness after the exercise… but still feeling vaguely dissatisfied. While a very kind gesture, the baked good somehow wasn't really the right thing to satiate him. He rather bizarrely felt like he was strongly craving something very particular, but couldn't for the life of him say what.

Loitering by the entrance to the loungeroom, he spied Thancred and Yda — who were both very much not lounging. They stood pensively at either side of the room, mid-conversation. Joker thought he heard the name 'Val' come up— he had heard that before, somewhere. And it seemed to be causing the two Scions no shortage of anxiety. Their faces were tense, expressions troubled.

"I mean… just because they aren't answering their Linkpearls doesn't necessarily mean anything bad has happened."

"Everyone? On the entire island?"

"Okay, yes, but—"

Yda cut herself off as she looked up at Joker's arrival. She squirmed a little guiltily, biting at her lip.

"Oh! H-hey, Joker!"

And Joker frowned, quickly finishing off the rest of his treat before asking the inevitable question.

"What happened now?" It was always something, wasn't it?

"No, no, you don't need to worry about it!" Yda waved her hands, Thancred drawing closer from behind her, "It's probably not even anything!"

His frown deepened, eyes narrowed, "If it's something I can help with—"

Thancred, too, raised a placating hand, "If we require your assistance then we shall inform you, Ren, do not worry. But until we have more information on the matter it really would not do to add an additional trouble to your overloaded plate. Pray, do not concern yourself."

He debated arguing, but any response to the contrary fell from his mind at the sound of a sudden tapping at the window. A startled Yda jumped, turning and peering out the glass.

"Oh! The mail!"

A Moogle bearing a familiar bright red satchel hovered at the glass, the tip of a fuzzy paw prodding at it. After the Scion's assistance with the whole Good King Moggle Mog debacle, the creatures had been quite blasé about breaking protocol and making their presence known at the Rising Stones, rather than discreetly and invisibly dropping off deliveries as they were supposed to.

"Let's see if it's another batch of embarrassing love letters for Thancred, shall we? I missed the first ones." Yda said chipperly as she unlatched the window. Thancred sighed.

Yda gave a bright little wave as the fluffy postal worker fluttered into the room, which the Moogle returned. A young female one, she made her way over to where Joker stood with her whiskers twitching.

"Ah, how splendid to meet with you in person, Lord Joker, sir!"

Yda snickered quietly at the reverent tone— a new aspect of Moogle interaction that Joker had been forced to adapt to since eating their king. He gave a nod.

The Postmoogle reached into her bag, "A special delivery for you today! And an additional gift, courtesy of the deputy, kupo. A repayment for your exemplary services. Keep up the stellar work, kupo."

And she held out two items to him. An envelope with a wax seal and a small, purple package— a cloth bag tied with a ribbon, slightly lumpy from what seemed to be multiple small objects inside of it.

"I'm honored." Joker replied very seriously, taking both into his hands. "Thank you, kupo."

The Moogle gave something like a salute, stubby arm flying to her forehead and nearly knocking off her cap. Joker returned the gesture. They held their positions for a solid few seconds before the Moogle fluttered away on her tiny wings, escaping through the open window.

"A pleasure to serve you, my lord!"

And when Joker lowered his hand, he saw Thancred and Yda openly staring at him.

"What was that about?"

"Can't tell you." Joker flopped into the plush seat nearest to the fire, which the others had now let him more or less claim as his own— it was well mid-autumn now, and he was always the most especially eager to curl up away from the cold. He waved the envelope idly, "Confidential Postmoogle-business."

"Ahuh." Thancred shrugged, "Well, let us attend to what's in front of us first before getting ourselves worked up over idle speculations, shall we? Like the matter of invading Joker's postal privacy for a change."

Joker snorted, but did indeed let the others watch him open his mail, aware that they, too, were likely desperately seeking a distraction from their own troubles. Besides— it could be fun.

He flipped the envelope over, slowly reading out the Eorzean script composing the name of the sender: 'A', yeah he got that— then an 'l' that looked like an 'i'-... and an 'i' that looked like an 'l', gods…and now 's', his beloathed, looking suspiciously 'h'-shaped, which itself was way too close to a 'k'… Oh! It was a return letter from Alisaie!

With the aid of his fellow Postmoogles had he recently sent her another correspondence to wherever in the realm she currently was. This time it featured a stunning artistic rendition of Ramuh and his especially glorious beard that he provided no context for, besides an arrow and scrawled Eorzean text that he had tried to make read "not fair!" Plus an accompanying scribble of a giant and cartoonishly angry squid for good measure.

He opened the folded parchment, haltingly advancing through the lines of text. He could tell Alisiae had written her letters with extra care, each character large and neat. And from the way he was picking up quite a lot of words, she had kept her language excessively simple for his benefit, bless her.

But she was still a child prodigy with the equivalent of an undergraduate degree at sixteen and his Common reading level was worse than a small boy's, so of course it was still taking him a good while to parse each sentence. With his hands exposed without his gloves, he absently chewed at a nail as he squinted at an unfamiliar word.

Thancred smiled fondly, extending a hand, "If you'll forgive the intrusion, I can offer my services as an interpreter?"

"Nah, I think I'm kinda getting it. Just hung up on a few words. Like – what does this mean?" He pointed his gnawed thumb at one in particular. Thancred leaned over his shoulder to scan the parchment.

"Ah. I believe, in a very roundabout way, the young miss Leveilleur is inquiring as to when your namesday is."

Thancred lifted his eyes to Yda for a moment, a questioning eyebrow raised. She merely put her hands behind her back in a display of mock-innocence, smiling pleasantly.

Huh. What was that about? And also…

Joker titled his head, "What's a namesday?"

"Oh." Thancred turned back to him with a touch of sadness, while Yda gasped with utter indignation.

"You don't have namesdays in your world?!" She cried, horrified hands upon what was visible of her face.

"I don't know, maybe?!" Joker shrank further into the armchair as Yda threw herself towards him, "What are they?"

"It's a yearly celebration of the anniversary of one's birth." Thancred elaborated, a hand upon Yda's shoulders to bring her down from possibly going into conniptions.

"Ohhh." Said Joker, chuckling, "You can relax, Yda. We have those. We just call them something different."

"Oh." Her arms fell at her side as she calmed herself, "Good! Good. I was prepared to fight your whole universe on your behalf."

Joker shrugged, smiling. He continued to scan what remained of the letter, pondering over what he could possibly draw in lieu of a proper reply. Maybe a Sabotender…?

There was slightly terse silence from Yda. Then a pointed cough. He looked up as she tapped an impatient foot.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So when is it?" She asked, arms wide in exasperation.

Heh. "Ninth of June. Uh, lemme do the math on that one." Joker idly counted off his fingers, more for show than actual calculation, "I think that'd be… the Tenth Sun of the Third Umbral Moon?" Funnily enough, with the way he'd been sent back (or forward?) to Hydaelyn's early spring, he'd actually encountered his birthday for the year a second time. Or what he was considering as the same year. Between that fact and how busy he'd been since his arrival in this world he hadn't even thought about it. He had been prepping for a war around that time, after all.

But that was fine. He'd already celebrated his birthday for 2018 with Futaba and Sojiro back in Shibuya, and he was rolling the Eorzean year of 1577 into it. He really didn't need to turn 19 twice.

"Awww, no!" Yda's shoulders slumped, "That was ages ago! Why didn't you tell us back then? We completely missed it!"

"Lost track of time, I guess." He shrugged, "Different calendar and all."

He didn't particularly want to dwell on the fact that it was around that time that he'd crushed praefectus Rhitahtyn's skull beneath the head of his axe, howling and wild and burning.

Yda recovered from her disappointment with a puffed chest, "Well, next year we'll just have to throw an extra big party!"

"Y-yeah." Joker answered the boisterous declaration with a tight smile. He kept his eyes upon Alisiae's letter, chest constricting.

Next year. Yda hadn't seemed to realize what she'd just implied— at least another several months— moons, whatever— of being here. Of having failed yet again to find a way home. And, more painfully, the fact that was actually looking to be increasingly likely.

Thancred seemed to clue in, at least. He studied Joker, seeming to debate saying something.

Which meant that Joker was now extraordinarily invested in having another completely unrelated question answered. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat.

"Now then! The next most important question on my dimensionally-displaced mind… What are these?"

He lifted up the cloth bag he had been gifted by the Moogle, tipping the contents into his open palm.

A bundle of dark, egg-shaped nuts spilled into his hand, slightly shiny from a waxen exterior. Their tops were sprouting small stalks, tipped with black leaves that sort of resembled bat wings.

Thancred crossed his arms, chuckling.

"I should have known. Kupo Nuts." He nodded as Joker angled them for a better look by the fire. In the light, they looked so suspiciously, vividly purple, "Moogles' staple food. To quite an extreme degree. Like Chocobos and Gysahl Greens— they practically live off of them."

"Huh." Joker set them down on a small coffee table by the chair. The three leaned in, peering at the small pile suspiciously.

Yda put a finger to her chin, "I've never actually tried one, come to think of it. They must be alright— the Moogles of the Twelveswood certainly enjoy them."

Gathering her courage, she picked one from the pile. Awkwardly hooked her nails in the thin outer shell, peeling it off. And Joker watched carefully to make sure she didn't begin to turn a matching shade of violet as she brought the nut to her mouth. He'd seen enough of that with Nero earlier.

But the pugilist had barely taken a full bite before she froze.

"Oh, yearugh…!" Yda choked, pulling back and scrunching her face.

A reaction that only enticed Thancred more. He grabbed a nut for himself, nibbling cautiously at the end.

"…Well." Thancred raised an eyebrow, "These would pair quite nicely with fetid Morbol-infested water from the Tangle, I'd say."

Glowing reviews indeed. But Joker was never one to turn down an opportunity to experience new kinds of food.

"Lemme try." He took hold of one between his fingers. Peeled off the shell before placing it on his tongue.

And Joker's face immediately lit up.

"Ooh, theesh are good!" He said with his mouth full, chewing happily.

He quickly popped another two into his eager mouth, eyes bright with delight as he floated on fluffy clouds of flavorful bliss. So much so that he could even envision tiny little Moogle wings fluttering happily at his back.

No, wait. He wasn't imagining that— they actually were. And a waving pom-pom on his head.

…Eh, whatever.

He dismissed his new appendages with a small shake of his head. Continued to munch away, raising an eyebrow at Thancred and Yda, who were both looking at him as if he had finally, properly gone insane this time. Which wouldn't really surprise him if that was the case, but c'mon…

Ah, the pain of enjoying a food everyone else around you hated. Maybe he should apologize to G'raha about the Archon Loaf the next time he—

Oh.

Right.

Joker quickly swallowed what was in his mouth. Then he stood up suddenly, stretching.

"Well! This evening has been both fun and educational, but I think I'll go to bed early. Alphinaud's got some big plans for tomorrow and apparently I'm to be a part of them?"

He gave an easy parting wave to the other two. He was halfway down the corridor to his room before he suddenly stopped. And then he turned back, snatching up what remained of the Kupo Nuts from the table. Yda and Thancred again looked at each other as he scurried away with his prize clutched to his chest like a squirrel furtively guarding its hoard.

Thancred shrugged.

"To each their own, I suppose…"

Original Ao3 endnotes:

Pop quiz, P5 fans! What happens on the birthday I've given Joker here? :P

Bonus sketch: Speaking of Monks and sparring! (At least they had fun?)