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kumeko · 1 year

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A/N: For the @divergenceffxvzine ! I couldn’t resist the opportunity to write LunaNyx (with some happy Crowe and Libertus). And thanks to another zine I was in, this is part 1 of 3 =D

…

Nyx could count his customers with his fingers. Which wasn’t a good thing for any business, let alone one that he co-owned. If it weren’t for the fact today was Wednesday, Nyx would be worried. Luckily, their weekends more than made up for the workday lull, and Libertus had a way with suppliers that kept their costs low enough that they stayed out of the red.

Still, it didn’t bode well for their bar’s future. Nyx absentmindedly cleaned a glass as he glanced around the room. A hole in the wall, their place was just big enough to fit thirty people comfortably and forty if they went the sardine route. Today, there were just ten, with six of them scattered around the room, drinking and snacking on the small finger foods Libertus liked cooking up. Their new hire, Crowe, twirled between the wooden tables and chairs, picking up dirty dishes and refilling empty glasses.

Despite Libertus’s complaints, she insisted on wearing a leather jacket and pants, looking like she’d stepped out of some edgy action movie instead of working as a waitress. Nyx was certain they’d had an uptick of twenty-somethings visiting the bar these days, trying to get her number. It was probably the only reason they could afford to keep her on as long as they had. Their customers were lucky they didn’t know just how protective Libertus was, taking to her like a duck to water.

She spun on her heel, returning to the bar with a smug grin and a fistful of tips. Nyx set the glass down and grinned as she passed him. “Good night?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Crowe winked as she waved a receipt at him. On the back, he could just make out a number messily scrawled in pen. “Think I’ll get lucky tonight.”

Nyx glanced at their customers, wondering just who had finally bit the bullet. “Just be careful out there.”

Crowe rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Now you’re sounding like Libertus.”

He winced. “And no one wants that.”

“Nope.” She waved as she headed back to the kitchen. “Though, I do want to see his face when I tell him. I’ll give him the orders myself.”

“Just don’t kill him, or you’re cooking tonight,” Nyx called out. She laughed before disappearing through the curtains into the back of the bar. Still, she had a point earlier. Despite himself, he was also getting attached to the newbie. Maybe it was time they gave her a proper Galahd welcome. They could close the bar early and make a real party out of it too.

A soft chime interrupted his thoughts, and Nyx looked up as a woman walked through the door. No, not a woman, a lady. Despite her plain clothes, there was something regal about the way she walked, about her posture and confident gaze. Her blonde hair was pinned in a high ponytail and the lack of braids marked her for a foreigner.

Nyx watched as she studied their bar curiously before her stormy blue eyes met his. Automatically, he averted his gaze, but not before he caught her lips quirk at the reaction. He wasn’t sure why he did that. He didn’t need to. Something about her looked vaguely familiar, tickling his memory.

“Pardon me, may I have a drink?” she asked as she approached the bar, amused. Her words sounded too formal for the town, let alone this bar.

“Well, this is a bar,” he replied, unable to help the quip.

For a moment, the woman stared at him, and he feared he’d gone too far. Before he could say anything, she laughed softly. “That is true. My mistake. Is there a menu I can peruse?”

“A menu?” Nyx raised a brow before gesturing at the small chalk board at the end of the table. “There’s that, I guess, but it’s easier just to ask.”

“Oh, I see.” She brushed a delicate lock behind her ear as she eyed the board. His gaze flickered to her dainty hands. It didn’t look like she’d had a day of hard work. Whoever she was, she must have been rich at one point. A disgraced noble? An outcast? It wasn’t an unusual situation: Galahd was far enough from the mainland that they got runaways all the time. “Are there any Galahd specialities you would recommend to a stranger?”

“Plenty.” But nothing you’d like. Whatever her case, Nyx doubted this woman drank hard liquor. The drinks in Galahd weren’t for everyone and he couldn’t count how many times he’d found a traveller stumbling in the night because they hadn’t realized just how strong the drinks here were. “How about a Sylleblossom Storm?”

Resignation flickered across her expression before she asked, “Sylleblossom? Those are from Tenebrae, not Galahd.”

“Yeah, but we like to mix together things here in Galahd and make something new.” The woman acted stiff and polite, words he didn’t normally associate with anyone in a bar. He wasn’t sure if had imagined her earlier expression. Nyx pulled out a glass and placed it in front of her. “Especially if they’re two very different things.”

“Hence the ‘storm’?” Interest perked, she awkwardly hopped on the stool. Or at least, she tried to: her feet awkwardly turned, fumbling to find purchase on the lower rungs before she managed to sit down properly.

“First time in a bar?” he asked, trying not to laugh. It was an oddly clumsy move; one he didn’t expect from someone as graceful as her. With his luck, Crowe would come out right now and berate him for his manners.

“No, though it is my first time sitting right next to the bar.” The woman flushed lightly and looked away, for once seeming like an ordinary girl from the village. “The seat is taller than I expected.”

Or perhaps you’re shorter. Taking pity, he hummed his agreement. “Happens to everyone their first time.”

“I appreciate the kind words.” Still embarrassed, the woman cleared her throat and tapped the empty glass. “As you were saying about the storm?”

“An old Galahd sailor drink.” Nyx turned around, picking out two bottles from the collection behind him. Adding ice to the glass, he poured out a miniscule amount of a pale-yellow whisky. “It’s a strong one, so it doesn’t take much to forget your name.” He filled in the rest of the glass with a dark blue drink made of the Sylleblossom flower. “This lightens the flavour.”

“You are very knowledgeable.” The woman gingerly accepted her drink. “Though I suppose that is to be expected of a bartender.”

“I couldn’t work here otherwise.” Nyx chuckled.

“No, I suppose you couldn’t.” She half-smiled as she swirled the drink once before taking a sip. Her eyes widened and she took another, longer sip. “This…”

“Not what you’re used to?” Nyx guessed, grinning. “I doubt anyplace but a dive like ours makes it.”

“Not at all.” Her expression hardened. If he had thought of her as soft before, she was all edges now, her eyes electric. There was something hypnotic about them. He couldn’t look away. “Is it really that obvious who I am?”

Again, something niggled in his brain, a memory he couldn’t quite place. Should he recognize her? Maybe she had a scandal recently. Forcing himself to turn away, he set the bottles back. “Well, you’re not the first high-class lady I’ve seen in town, though you’re the first in our bar.”

The woman sighed again, disappointed. “That explains why you suggested Sylleblossom.”

“Didn’t want to give you something too strong, in case you can’t find your way back.” When he turned back around, the woman was staring at him, eyes wide. Nyx wasn’t sure if she was offended. “Not saying you can’t hold your alcohol, but…well, we drink differently here in Galahd.”

“You wanted to give me something light?” she murmured.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

The woman mulled it over before asking softly, “Is that really all?”

“Yeah, what else?” Nyx raised a brow. “It’s not an expensive drink, if you think I’m fleecing you.”

“No, that is not…” The woman shook her head, her posture relaxing. “I suppose there are odd coincidences in this world.”

Nyx furrowed his brow, perplexed. He was definitely missing something. “What?”

“It is nothing.” The woman stared at her drink for a moment, before taking another sip. She smiled, red lips catching his attention. “I quite like this drink.”

“It was made for you.” Nyx smiled in response. “Want another?”

“Perhaps when I finish the first.” The woman ran her finger over the rim of her glass. Suddenly, she stilled, her head half-cocked as though she were listening to someone. She glanced at the door and sighed. “I would like a rain check for that. Unfortunately, I have to return.”

Nyx stared at her, then at the door. Even through the window, he couldn’t see anyone on the brightly lit street. Perhaps even the half a glass she’d drunk was too strong for her. “Sure. Come again another day.”

“No, I am afraid I might not be able to get out like this again.” The woman studied the table before delicately plucking a napkin. “Do you have a pen?”

A pen meant a check which meant they’d have to go on a bank run tomorrow. The rich never carried small bills, no matter where they went. “Sure thing.”

Her fingers brushed his, sending an electric shock up his arm before she took the pen. Brushing her hair behind her ear, she carefully scrawled across the napkin. “Unfortunately, this also leaves the matter of your payment.”

“We don’t have a tab here,” Nyx replied automatically, frowning. They had a hard enough time paying bills with the money they got, let alone dealing with future payments.

“No, of course not.” The woman carefully folded her napkin and leaned across the bar, taking one of his hands and pressing the napkin in it. She smiled softly as she curled his fingers over it. His breath caught. If she had been pretty before, she was downright beautiful now. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow. Perhaps we can have that rain check then, before your payment.”

For a second, he stared at her retreating back, at the way she slipped out of her chair and across the room. She was like water lapping the shore, the tide receding after its high point. The door closed and he remembered the napkin in his hands. “I just said we don’t take tabs!”

It was too late. The woman was already gone. “Fuck.”

Annoyed with himself, he unfolded the napkin. In what was perhaps the neatest cursive known to man, an address was written on the napkin. And nothing else. “What, is she expecting a house call?”

As though waiting for this moment, Crowe barreled out of the kitchen, hissing, “Nyx! Holy shit! I can’t believe that happened!”

“I know.” He sighed. If he was lucky, the teasing would only last a week. Libertus would never let him live it down. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Lady Lunafreya, in this dump?” Crowe ran a hand through her hair, amazed. “What was she even doing here?”

“Lady—” Nyx cut himself off. No wonder she had looked familiar—she was plastered all over the news as she travelled through the countries for her archaic oracle duties. She had always looked older in those photos, wiser, her expression firm and steady as she upheld a dying tradition. Certainly nothing like the clumsy girl who didn’t know how to order a drink.

No wonder she said she wouldn’t be able to return—he was amazed she’d been able to go through the streets unnoticed even once.

“What did she—” Crowe’s jaw dropped as she peeked around him at the napkin. “No freaking way, she gave you her address?”

Nyx stared at the elegant scrawl once more. “I guess she did.”

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but it looked like he was going to pay her a visit tomorrow. After all, she still hadn’t paid her bill.

#ffxv #lunyx #lunanyx #lunafreya nox fleuret #nyx ulric #libertus ostium #crowe altius #fanfic #hello #it's me #talking to a dead fandom #because that's what I do #i should really write for things while they're hot #as a challenge #one day

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