One year before the Warrior of Light
After a long day's work, Aymeric always looked forward to a nice glass of wine. Unfortunately for him, when he went to check his supply in the kitchen, it was all out.
No, he was not an alcoholic, but this was the one little thing he enjoyed...and not having it when he wanted it irritated him. Yet, Aymeric was never one to lash out, but his blue eyes did narrow while a soft scowl hid itself from prying eyes.
Silently, he left the kitchen and headed down into the wine cellar below. It was very unwelcoming down there, the walls were made of stone, having little insulation. Not only that, but it was dimly lit. However, on the bright side, there was always a large supply of wine down there, especially during these winter months.
A soft smile played across Aymeric's lips at the racks of that one delicious drink. So many to choose from. He walked row by row, never knowing which one he was in the mood for as they all had a special place with him.
Softly, he whispered to himself until the rough sound of a sneeze made him flinch. Quickly, he turned towards the sound.
"Who is there?"
Soft whimpers replied back to him from within the darkest corner of the cellar. Aymeric did not hesitate to draw out his sword, which was rather long and if he made one wrong move with it he could easily break bottles.
Deciding against it, he sheathed it and instead went for something as equally as dangerous: a fiery torch. And he approached the corner of the wine cellar, extending his arm so he was able to see.
When Aymeric came upon the corner, he was met with none other than a female Miqo'te. She had dark blue hair, soft ears, a fluffy tail, and blue eyes, though darker than his and the color was leaning more towards turquoise. His eyes drifted down to take in what she was wearing. It was attire that more suited a hotter region, legs and arms exposed with just simple enough shoes that could help her, somewhat, from the snow.
He watched her for a moment, observing how her head was turned into the walls and her trembling body scrunched up. He could even compare her to a mouse, for her short stature reminded him of one.
Aymeric immediately felt confused and concern wash over him. She was young, but not child-like young...or maybe she was? The way the flames reflected off of her skin could give off that illusion.
"Seven hells," He whispered as he knelt down to seem more friendly and less threatening. He set the flame next to the wall, furthest away from either of them. "My lady, how long have you been down here?"
"I-I don't know." Was her mumble of a reply. Not very helpful. "…I apologize, I didn't mean to intrude, but I was very cold…and-"
"You need not to apologize for acting on your own behalf, it is very cold up here in the winter. But might I stress the concern I feel for your stability? I would suggest, quite strongly, that the next best step is to get you in front of a hearth."
Aymeric reached out a hand, patiently waiting for her to take it. Not wanting to be snapped at, she placed her hand into his. His grasp tightens, only slightly, as his arm pulled up, bringing her to her feet.
Silently, he reached down to pick the torch off the ground. The Miqo'te pulled back when he turned the flame in her direction and automatically shut her eyes tightly when she expected the worst. The pain never came, the only response given was a small metal sound to alert her that the torch was placed back into its holder.
Aymeric gave another reassuring smile to her before leading her out of the cellar. He did not dare forget his wine, taking grasp of the first bottle his eyes had landed on.
Up on the surface, the hallways were well heated, torches providing that extra step. No turn they made had degraded in temperature as it was quite important to Aymeric for a residence to be inviting. Heating was an essential must-have. The warmest room had to be the living room. Spacious with soft, plush couches and bookshelves lining the walls.
When Aymeric let go of her hand, the Miqo'te only stood at the doorway while he walked over to the couch. He set the wine bottle on the oak table before taking a glance at the fire. Standing awkwardly, she noticed that there was another person sitting there, slivery hair and pointy ears, back turned to her.
"Lord Haurchefant," Aymeric addressed. "We have a guest."
Without hesitation, the Elezen turned to face the newcomer. A smile that was as welcoming as Aymeric's lit up his face.