Snow's Love

The tavern in Old Sharlayan was alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the low strumming of a bard’s lute in the far corner. The golden glow of lanterns reflected off polished wood and fine tapestries, casting long shadows over the gathered patrons.
At the bar sat a man unlike any other in the room.
Eremon Mordos was no ordinary traveler. There was something about him—an air of quiet authority, the weight of power that clung to him like an unseen cloak. His raven black hair shimmered under the warm light, his piercing emerald eyes sharp even as he sat in quiet contemplation, fingers idly swirling the deep amber liquid in his glass.
Across the room, she watched him.
A Winter Caethe—a rare sight, even in Eorzea. She was small yet impossible to ignore, her pure white fur and ice-blue eyes striking against the dim tavern light. Yukino Hayasaka, the Warrior of Light, had faced gods and calamities, but never had she encountered a man who intrigued her quite like this.
And when something intrigued her, she chased it.
She slid from her seat and made her way to the bar, her tail flicking lazily behind her. Without hesitation, she perched herself beside him, resting her elbow on the counter and her chin in her palm.
"You’re a long way from home, aren’t you, handsome?" she mused, voice smooth, laced with playful curiosity.
Eremon barely turned, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "And you’re perceptive. I take it you don’t see many like me around here."
"Not often," she admitted, tilting her head, letting her snow-white hair cascade over one shoulder. "Tall, brooding, clearly powerful—you’re exactly my type."
His smirk deepened. "Is that so?"
She leaned in slightly, her tail brushing against his arm as she traced the rim of her glass with a fingertip. "Mhm. But you see, I have a rule. I don’t flirt with strangers."
Eremon took a slow sip of his drink, gaze never leaving hers. "And yet, here you are."
Her ears twitched, her smile widening. "You’re an exception. But only if you tell me your name."
He let the silence stretch just long enough for her to feel the weight of it before answering. "Eremon Mordos."
Yuki’s tail curled slightly. "A beautiful name for a beautiful man."
This time, he laughed—a rich, warm sound that sent something fluttering in her chest. "Flattery will get you far."
"Oh, I intend to go far," she teased, her tail curling around his wrist, the soft fur brushing his skin.
Eremon raised a brow, his fingers absentmindedly running through her tail, feeling its delicate texture. "A Winter Caethe," he murmured, voice laced with intrigue. "Rare. Beautiful."
She feigned a gasp, her icy eyes sparkling with mischief. "A man who appreciates a fine tail? Gods, I might just marry you."
"Tempting offer," he mused, "if I thought you were serious."
"Who says I’m not?" she shot back. "But maybe you’ll just have to stay and find out."
They talked for hours.
Drinks flowed, words spilled, and the lighthearted flirting gave way to something deeper. Yukino found herself hanging onto every story he told, fascinated by the man beyond the legend. And Eremon? He found himself utterly enchanted by this bold, sharp-witted Miqo’te who challenged him in ways few ever dared.
At some point, her flirty quips softened into something more genuine. She laughed a little too freely, let herself lean against his arm just a little more than necessary. She was tipsy, but not just from the alcohol.
By the time the tavern had started to quiet, Eremon exhaled, stretching slightly. "It’s getting late. I should be going."
A flicker of panic crossed Yuki’s mind. The thought of never seeing him again—of letting this night end as just another fleeting memory—was unbearable.
Before she could think, she reached for his hand, fingers curling around his own.
"Wait," she whispered.
He stilled, emerald eyes locking onto hers.
"Stay," she said softly, the words hanging between them like fragile glass. "Just for tonight."
Eremon studied her. The firelight flickered in her ice-blue eyes, her expression vulnerable yet confident.
He could leave. He should leave.
But something about her—this rare, bold woman who had ensnared him in ways he hadn’t expected—made him stay.
"...Alright," he murmured.
Yuki let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her tail flicking once in satisfaction.
She took his hand, gently leading him upstairs to her room.
The room was cozy, lit by the warm glow of a fireplace. The faint scent of parchment and fresh linen filled the air. As soon as the door clicked shut, Yuki turned to face him, ears flicking nervously.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Eremon merely chuckled. "You’re really not used to being told no, are you?"
She grinned. "Not in the slightest."
They settled onto the couch by the fire, talking for a little while longer. The soft crackling of the flames filled the room as Yuki curled up beside him, her head resting against his shoulder.
Eremon glanced down at her, his fingers brushing idly against the fur of her tail again.
"You really like my tail, don’t you?" she murmured, a teasing lilt in her voice.
"Not only your tail...but it also suits you," he admitted. "Soft, untamed, and far too bold for its own good."
She hummed in amusement, tilting her head up to look at him. The flickering firelight cast shadows across his face, making him look even more breathtaking than before.
Gods, she wanted him.
Slowly, she shifted, moving to straddle his lap. Her hands rested lightly against his chest as she leaned in, her breath warm against his skin.
"...Is this alright?" she whispered.
He let out a slow exhale, his hands settling at her waist. "Yuki." Her name rolled off his tongue like a promise.
She smiled softly. "I want you."
That was all it took.
Their lips met, slow and lingering at first, but quickly deepening as the weight of the night—of their connection—pushed them closer. Yuki’s hands tangled in his black hair, while Eremon’s fingers traced the curve of her spine, memorizing every inch of her.
They never made it to the bed.
Instead, they fell together in front of the fire, wrapped in warmth, in each other.
As dawn painted the sky in hues of soft pink and gold, Yuki stirred, her head resting against Eremon’s chest.
His arm was draped over her, holding her close, even in sleep.
For the first time in a long time, she felt safe.
Slowly, his emerald eyes fluttered open, and as soon as he saw her, a rare, genuine smile touched his lips.
"...Good morning," he murmured.
She grinned sleepily. "It really is, isn’t it?"
And neither of them knew it yet, but this night was only the beginning of something far greater.