Lunaire returned from her walk with Wuk Lamat with tacos and a bottle of mezcal to help while away the evening. As much as she would have liked to sit at one of the tables in the bevy and chat with one of the locals, she was eager to return to relaxing in her cabin. After the trek up the mountain, defeating yet another legend, and everything in between, she felt she could use a little break.

But, as she strolled down the long boardwalk of the For'ard cabins, she caught sight of black ears and a heavy backpack. Though the thought of a nice, silent room brought a smile to her face, a little company for a meal wouldn't be too awful. She hastened her steps to meet him before he made his way to his cabin, catching up with the gleaner before he could even notice her.

"Good evening. Have you other business tonight?" she asked as she fell into step beside him. The Viera jumped slightly at her voice, but managed to retain most of his composure.

"Has anyone ever told you that you have unnervingly silent footsteps?"

"Yes."

"So long as you're aware." He stopped and she stopped alongside him. "No other business tonight, no. is there a reason you're asking?"

"Would you like to join me for tacos and mezcal? I bought it for myself, but I prefer eating and drinking with company."

"And I was your first choice?"

"You were the first person I saw on the way back." He blinked a few times, staring ahead as he thought, then shrugged.

"I haven't had good mezcal in a while. And it would be rude to decline an invitation, especially from Eorzea's — and soon to be Tural's — most renowned hero."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"Let me put my things away."

She followed Erenville to the cabin he was staying in and waited for him by the door. Their other companions seem to have settled down for the night, based on the quiet from the other nearby cabins. He didn't take long in the cabin, and stepped out as quietly as he could manage.

Surprise lit his face as he stepped out to meet her, his gaze falling unmistakably on her attire. She glanced down and admitted to herself it might be a little different from her usual dress. Knowing Tural would be hot, she'd packed a swimsuit she might've worn to Costa Del Sol with a robe-like cover-up and a pair of breezy silk pants she'd obtained in Doma. Quite unlike what she'd normally wear, but felt fitting for an excursion to Tural.

"Apologies, I didn't expect to see you without armor," he said with a furtive glance away.

"I don't live in my armor," she replied with a chuckle. "But, this probably is more casual than you're used to." Erenville nodded, but managed to bring his gaze back towards her.

"Well, lead on. Don't want the tacos to get cold."

He followed her as she led the way back to her cabin. He hesitated again, this time at her door, but shrugged once more and followed her into the cabin. Her armor had been thrown haphazardly beside her bed and the remnants of a fruit basket — which she'd bought to share with Krile — sat on her table. She moved everything aside and set the bag down on the table along with the mezcal bottle.

"Judging by the bag, you stopped at Auntie Tii's," Erenville said as he sat down.

"Wuk Lamat said they were good, and I hadn't gotten a chance to try them."

"Knowing you're from Ul'dah, I should warn you: Tuliyollal spicy is a different kind of spicy from Ul'dahn spicy."

"I've eaten spicy food in Thavnair, so I think I can handle it."

"Fair. But just know, water won't be enough to cool you down. Mezcal definitely won't."

"Well, I'll take that challenge."

She unpacked the paper bag and Erenville helped her get the table set up properly. Auntie Tii packed a large leaf in the bag that she didn't know what to do with, but Erenville unfurled it and set the food out onto it. Not necessarily the traditional way to eat Turali food, but it had become popular amongst people who didn't like having to clean up dishware. Lunaire had ordered five tacos, but she had a feeling she wouldn't eat quite so many after seeing the size of them. While he laid them out, she grabbed a pair of glasses for them to drink from.

"How was your walk with Wuk Lamat?" he asked idly as she poured their drinks.

"It was nice. You saw us?"

"I heard her. Unlike you, she isn't exactly discreet. Especially not when she's yelling from the palace."

"Fair." He held up the glass and stared into the clear drink, swirling it a few times as he seemed to mull over a thought in his head.

"I'm glad she can confide in you."

"You're welcome to do the same, if you need."

"I appreciate the offer, but I can carry myself."

She shrugged and sat down across from him. Lunaire wasn't one to push. Twelve knew she kept plenty bottled up herself, and rarely took an offered hand. It had taken quite a bit of time to learn to shed her problems, and even then she often did so reluctantly.

He gestured towards the food when neither of them made a move to grab any. Too polite to eat before the other, it seemed. They silently resolved to grab one at the same time, sliding their tacos over the huge leaf and taking a bite at the same time. She could taste what he meant by Turali cuisine being a different sort of spicy from Ul'dahn and Thavnairan food. Not an unwelcome heat, but one she hadn't experienced before. It made the back of her jaw tingle, but not in an unpleasant way. It certainly didn't make her sweat the same way Hannish curry did. Though she knew who to blame for the increased intensity in Thavnairan cuisine.

The two of them ate their first taco in silence, enjoying the flavors as they mixed together in their mouth. It felt a little strange, such silence. She'd grown used to having meals with G'raha Tia, Krile, or the twins, who liked to liven up their meals with pleasant conversation. Oftentimes, she would sit and listen as they extrapolated on topics that had taken their interest of late, only speaking when they would pose a question to her. It was not often she was relied on to start conversations.

She decided to take up the mantle, for once, and decided to tell him about her impressions of Tural. After all, she imagined he had been curious about her thoughts on his homeland. He didn't speak of his curiosity, but she could see in his eyes the interest as soon as she began discussing it. Her interest in the history, her fondness for the weather and cuisine, her admiration for the scenery, all of it.

The topic which seemed to pique him most was whenever she would talk of the local fauna, which she didn't find surprising. Everyone had their areas of interest, and he specialized in animals. If she talked with the twins, their most recent interests involved trade and international diplomacy. Krile would have much to talk about in regards to local curatives and healing techniques. Had G'raha tia been there, they would've discussed the history of Tural extensively.

He was quick to engage when she asked questions about local animals — for instance, breeding and other practices. The topic seemed to relax him enough to finish a glass of mezcal and indulge in another. Though he didn't elaborate as much as the others would have — talks about Allagan history lasted full evenings with G'raha Tia — he had a wealth of knowledge on each animal she asked about. From natural habitats, eating habits, and even most common colorations and patterns by region.

As they talked, they drank, which made the conversation flow easier. She would throw in a few jokes — only a few of which fell flat — and he made a few jests of his own. The stony exterior melted, and they found themselves still chatting well after they'd finished eating. He leaned back during a lull in the conversation, finishing up his third glass of mezcal

"I see why he was charmed by you," Erenville said with a teasing grin. She tilted her head to ask for clarification. "G'raha Tia. I thought I understood before, but I see now what has him smitten."

"And where's this coming from?" she asked, pouring herself a third glass of mezcal and offering him a fourth. He gave a dismissive wave and she set the bottle down.

"Well, it's easy to assume: an infallible hero, easy on the eyes, and a fellow Miqo'te — "

"Raised by Elezen, you should know."

"I'd wager that only makes you more interesting." She shrugged, but gestured for him to continue. "But it isn't hard to believe that he'd develop an interest with all of that considered. After all, why wouldn't he?"

"Well, that's obvious. There's more to attraction than that," she said.

"You'd be surprised for some people. There's plenty who would 'fall in love' with Lamaty'i simply because she's a contender for the throne." She nodded. Not an uncommon thing, people becoming infatuated with others for such superficial reasons. Or worse, feigning it for personal gain. She pretended not to notice him refer to her by her nickname.

"Well, it isn't that way with —"

"I'm well-aware. He talks too highly of you for it to be something so simple." Her face, which already started feeling warm from the mezcal, started to burn. "But I see it now. This is why."

"You don't have to be vague."

"No, but it can be fun," he said with a chuckle. "I asked him what you were like once, which turned out to be a huge mistake on my part. Kept me near a bell talking about you. But for all of his talk of heroics, he kept going back to when you explored the Crystal Tower together."

"That was the first time we met. And at the time, the last we thought we'd ever see of each other."

"He mentioned. But his favorite memories were of nights spent sharing drinks by a campfire in Mor Dhona, amidst the crystals near the Silvertear Lake. Laughing, carousing, and bantering with NOAH — whatever that means — but you, in particular. A hero in his eyes, but in those moments you felt…earthly. 'A mortal, the same as me. Not a legend in a fairytale,' as he put it." Lunaire's glass paused at her lips. She could hear him saying it in her ears, as if he'd been right there. The sentimentality of the Exarch spoken with the youthful vigor he'd regained.

"I wish he wouldn't…think of me so."

"He puts on an act, I feel. He told me how much those days meant to him. How often he hearkens back to it. Seeing a living hero in the flesh and realizing that she was really no different from him. And I see it now." He took a long sip of his mezcal and grinned. "You can be an enigmatic and almost imposing figure. An adventurer wise and powerful beyond measure. But seeing you in this light is heartening."

She stared down into the glass of mezcal she'd been nursing since he started talking. She didn't try to be the enigmatic figure they described. But metaphorically letting her hair down was something she struggled with. Too many times had she let her guard down and suffered for it. Back then, she'd not quite feared it so much, but time had taken that bliss away from her. Allowing herself to rest now was a luxury she little afforded herself.

"And what of yourself?" she asked, downing the rest of her mezcal to bring her the courage to broach the topic. "You portray the enigmatic figure quite well. It's been enlivening to see you laugh and carouse."

"What is there to say? I'm not one to talk of myself," he replied, taking a swig of his drink.

"What of you and Wuk Lamat? There's more to your relationship than meets the eye." His yellow eyes widened and his gaze darted to the side. The tip of his ear twitched and shifted downward slightly.

"We've known each other a long time."

"So I've gathered."

"You aren't going to give me the same look he did, are you? If so, I'll leave you alone with the rest of your mezcal." She waved a dismissive hand, though the expression had briefly crossed her face. "It's…a long story."

"One that would take up the entire rest of the night?"

"One that I'm not keen to tell. No matter how much mezcal I have in me."

"I see."

"Perhaps some of his fondness comes from your kindred spirits."

"Can you blame us for seeing similar things when we've little to base our thoughts on?" He turned back to her and she could see a hint of dread in his eyes. A hint of dread mixed with something else, though she couldn't decide if the mezcal influenced it.

"My past isn't something I like to talk about." By his tone, she knew she shouldn't press further. Curt — though not impolite — and desperate to steer the conversation elsewhere.

"What should we talk about, then?"

"Plants. Animals. Nature, in general. It's what I know best. They aren't as difficult as…people."

They conversed more about the local fauna and flora. The conversation started off stilted, but eased up as he described the spices Aunie Tii's tacos used to give it the incredible flavor it had. They spent another half bell talking about spices and herbs — he'd not known she boasted advanced culinary knowledge — and the next half bell talking about cuisine in Tuliyollal. They managed to fall into discussions on food from different places; they agreed the number of Coerthan stews to be outrageous, they had differing opinions on whether Hannish food was too spicy, they joked about the Last Stand saving Old Sharlayan from being a culinary wasteland, and shared anecdotes on eateries across Eorzea. The topic seemed to lighten him up and when they finally called it a night, he left with a smile.

Lunaire ended her evening by letting her feet dangle off the open balcony over the reef, enjoying the breeze running across her warm skin and through her hair. She hoped Erenville would be able to get rest that night. That she hadn't brought up any unwanted memories or thoughts. She told herself not to linger on it, so she could get proper rest herself. They still had more feats to help Wuk Lamat accomplish, and a city of gold to find.