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A sudden distant clanking sound roused Moenbryda from her sleep. She wasn’t quite sure of the hour, and the moonless night outside offered no suggestions. The roegadyn scholar had collapsed into bed and fallen asleep rather quickly despite the frankly somewhat poor quality mattress she’d been provided upon her arrival the now-previous day. Another distant clattering, this time followed by a muffled quiet swear. She hadn’t had a chance to meet most of the famed Scions yet - she’d arrived late in the afternoon, and most of the rest of the Scions were away on other business, expected to return the following day when they could proceed in earnest. Minfilia had warned this place could be lively into the late hours at times, Moen thought to herself somewhat sleepily, but who could it possibly even be? There’s barely anyone here…
A third, meatier clunk sounded, clearly coming from downstairs somewhere. Curious, Moenbryda brushed aside her blankets and swung her feet out of the somewhat cramped bed out onto the cold stones of the floor. She wasn’t exactly dressed for any visitors, but she didn’t particularly care if whoever was making a racket at this late of an hour saw her in her short pajamas and ill-fitting overshirt. She slipped out the door to her quarters, a rather spartan space for guests situated near the end of the hall near a door marked with simply “Fireheart” and the miniaturized iconography of the Garlond Ironworks. She had recognized the name when she’d gotten herself situated - who wouldn’t know the name of the world-renowned heroine the ‘Warrior of Light?’ They’d yet to meet, but Minfilia had impressed upon her that the woman could be rather reserved, and not to expect too much. We’ll see about that, Moen thought as she reached the stairwell leading down towards the main hall.
A stair creaked under her weight as she steadily descended, coming to the landing and looking out into the faintly lit room. The small kitchen area was covered in what appeared to be baking supplies and utensils - a small parcel of flour, a bowl, a few undersized eggs, a metal carton of what was likely milk, and what looked like…were those rolanberries? None appeared to be in active use, instead languishing on the counter as a small black-haired miqo’te fussed with the inside of the oven, head halfway inside with the door wide open.
“C’mon, you little…” she muttered to herself as she tinkered with something Moen couldn’t see, clearly unaware of her new observer.
Moen simply watched for a moment, sleep still clinging to her as she wondered just what exactly was happening in front of her. Eventually, she decided it was best to simply ask: “What are you doing?”
The miqo’te jumped in surprise and smacked her head on the inside of the oven with a loud thunk, trying with painful success to stand up too quickly. “Ow!” she yelped, coming to her full height that barely cleared Moenbryda’s waist. “I’m, uh, fixing the aetherburner spark. Or I was. I’m done now. Who’re you? Haven’t seen you around before,” the woman asked inquisitively, rubbing at a spot above her red-tinged ponytail with her fingers.
Moenbryda chuckled. “I’m Moenbryda, here to assist with finding your missing aetheryte, among other things. You alright? That sounded like it must have hurt.”
“I’ll be fine,” the miqo’te said, setting aside the wrench she’d been using and cleaning off her sooty hands on a cloth. “I’m Aydria, by the way,” she added awkwardly.
Moenbryda took in the sight in front of her, realizing now that she was talking to none other than the Warrior of Light herself. Shorter than I expected , she thought as she looked the woman up and down, half-wondering why she’d ever thought the woman would be tall in the first place. “Well,” she said with a smile, “this certainly is one way to be introduced, isn’t it?”
Aydria giggled nervously. “Not quite what I was expecting, really. Sorry for uh, waking you up. I’ll try to be quieter.”
Moen waved her off. “Oh, don’t worry yourself over it. I was more curious what the sound was than anything.” A yawn ambushed her, reminding her that she was still rather drained from her travels. The roegadyn scholar shook her head, warding off sleep from overtaking her just yet. “As much as I’d love to stay and have a late night chat and get to know you, I really should get some sleep so I’m not yawning my way through tomorrow’s meetings. Take a rain check?”
Aydria could swear she saw a wink, but thought better of saying anything, fighting a slight blush instead. “Um, sure! See you tomorrow, then,” she bade clumsily, not really sure what else to say.
“See you in the morning, Sparky,” Moen said, lingering a few moments too long looking at her before turning and heading back up the creaking stairs to her room. Aydria watched her go, then looked at the assorted baking supplies she’d laid out for herself well over an hour ago.
I hope she likes rolanberries, she thought, deciding very consciously to not interrogate that thought any further before it got her into trouble.
Moenbryda awoke the next morning to the bright morning sunlight beaming in. She’d fallen back asleep quickly upon returning to her quarters, the weariness of her travels invading her body and dragging her off to sleep with ease. Despite the mediocre at best bed and her interrupted night, she felt remarkably refreshed and excited at the prospect of seeing long-time friends again, and even making new ones. She rolled out of bed and headed towards the bathroom, letting her hair down from the bun she’d put it in for the night. The shower water was warm, thankfully - Minfilia had warned that sleeping in too late could result in a cold shower thanks to a notoriously vain Thancred Waters. Aptly named, Moen thought to herself with a chuckle at her own pun.
She pulled on a bright blue skirt and a simple white shirt, brushing her silver hair to one side and revealing her undercut. She followed up with some plain socks and her sturdy boots, then went to leave her room and nearly tripped over a small basket covered in a dark wine red cloth that was sitting in front of her door. Puzzled, she retrieved the mysterious package and brought it into her room, shutting the door again behind her and setting the basket on a small side table she’d been provided. Inside, there was a hastily scrawled note in somewhat rushed handwriting, set on top of two berry-flecked muffins: “Sorry again for waking you up. Hope you like rolanberries. - A.”
Moenbryda smirked, amused. Maybe, just maybe, something a little more than a friend could also await her here in Eorzea.