Everything had green eyes. Every face or shade in Aveen’s dream in that night had those deep green eyes. Exhaustion had quickly claimed him yesterday when he was back alone in his tent and in his bed again and he fell into a deep sleep full of strange dreams. When he woke up, he allowed himself to just lie there some minutes and gather his thoughts. He even concidered doing a short meditation after breakfast and a shower. At least he felt more confident to just see what this day might bring than yesterday. He would have to check on the patients, maybe help the Au Ra in the Alchemist tent.

But first he leaned over to the small table near his bed and grabbed his diary and a pen, rolled onto his belly, the blanket still over his body up to his neck and began to write. Aveen had much to catch up regarding his diary and he told it about his arrival here, his colleagues, his current hopes and fears, the happenings of yesterday. He wrote how proud he was of himself to have mastered his first healing job. Despite being growled at. It reminded him of the first excursion with Tristan, back in Ishgard, when they had observed aether flows in the Dravanian Hinterlands. Or rather his Professor had observed and Aveen was just there to take notes, write diagrams, hold the expensive gadgets. Tristan, with his weak immune system, had gone sick in the rainy weather but refused to stay in bed and skip one day of their research. He broke down behind a Stalagmite and Aveen, totally overtaxed, just got down beside him and had put his hand on his professors forehead to send him healing magic. Oh, what a grave mistake that had been. Touching the older Miqo’te out of nowhere. A cardinal sin. Tristan startled awake, pushing himself away from his student as if he was a monster. That was how Aveen had felt in that second and it had hurt him deeply. From this scene had stemmed one of their first arguments. Back then, Aveen hadn’t known the reasons for Tristans behavior and he never blamed him for anything he had done or how he had behaved in the 4 years they had known each other. On the contrary, he was thankful for it every day. He just wished that his mind would stop to wander to him or the memories he had made with him so often. Like yesterday in the Chocobo Stable. Aveen had felt so embarrased to drop into this whiny mood so quickly again. He had cried enough this last 6 months in Kugane. Tristan had been fine with their decision, Aveen had been fine, too… mostly. So it was finally time to move on.

He closed his Diary and for some seconds had the bold thought to really pack is bags and see what Somna’a would do. If he had meant what he had said yesterday. Aveen couldn’t help but smile when he thought about their short conversation in the Chocobo Stables yesterday, even if he still felt embarrassed for his depressed mood.

The morning turned into noon and Aveen did not pack is bags, but took his time to make himself a jug of Tea (from original black tea leafs from Hingashi), shower and meditate and then asked for his today’s tasks. Yesterday evening he truly had the thought to run away from all this. But today was a better day. He was helping the Au Ra Woman to prepare a load of tinctures to be transportet to Ala Ghiri outside the Alchemist tent, when loud shouts were heard coming from the patient’s tents. Only seconds later, Somna’a and the big blackhaired Highlander that was the Boss of the little resistance group, came into view, as the Miqo’te seemingly was roughly pushed outside, nearly stumbled to the ground and was immediatly grabbed again by the Highlander at the front of his open coat to hold him some ilms up, his gaze furious. Somna’a had his fangs bared, grabbing the arms that held him, the fingernails digging into Hargrims skin, and hissed into the highlanders face. ”You KNOW that I just did what was asked of me, old man! You can not think tha-” ”Careful, filthy stray!” the Highlander yelled straight into his face, so that Somna’a’s ears layed back even more. “You not only have the audacity to challenge my decisions, but to also forget that your problems are NOT bigger than ours!”

Aveen froze shortly, his ears flicking back. Conflict situations still quickly triggered a flight instinct in him. Two medics immediatly tried to seperate the fighting men. Somna’a growled and wriggled like a wildcat in the merciless grip on his coat. Hargrim at least pushed the smaller man away from him and Marghi tried to position himself between them before they could clash again. ”You stop your stupid fights in this camp immediatly, or you can pack your things and see the rest of your treatment elsewhere!” he said sharply. Somna’a gathered himself again and still looked like he wasn’t done with this argument.

Aveen did not know where his decision came from as he made his way right into the scene of the fray. But whatever was truly going on, fighting situations were so unnecessary and he didn’t want anyone to come to harm any further. He approached the Keeper and held him back with a sudden grip on his right wrist, while Marghi and the other medic where calming Hargrim.

Somna’a tried to wriggle himself out of the grip, before even knowing who was holding him back. But Aveen had experience in being relentless when it came to stop someone from self harm or doing stupid things. The Keeper’s muscles were tensed, his tail underneath the longer backside of his coat lashed around fiercly but finally he held still, looked furiously at Aveen and then back at Hagrim again. Above Marghi’s shoulder the Paladin said: “My company is done with you! I don’t care how much you plead me to let you stay!”

Somna’a seemed to only find a growl in him for an answer and then just stood there, as if someone had drained all thoughts from his mind. Hargrim was gently shuffled into the tent again by the medics and everyone who had watched the scene began to turn to their tasks again. Aveen’s hands shook a bit and he felt his heart beating nervously in his chest. Yelling, fighting, hurting. How he despised those things. Gently he pulled Somna’a further back, his hand still on the Keeper’s wrist. Aveen had to admit that for some moments he had the fear Somna’a could now turn his anger towards him, attack him even. But those 5 Seconds of courage, that Aveen sometimes had, became 10… then 20. And lastly the Fighter turned with him but said nothing and the next best thing that Aveen had in mind, was to offer the upset other Miqo’te a place to calm down and a tea. Tea was a always a good idea.

So they both entered Aveen’s tent and still without speaking, Aveen gently pushed the Keeper to sit down on the Guestbed that was still occupied by some books and then poured some of his morning brewed tea into a fresh cup, pushing it into Somna’a’s Hands and sitting infront of him on his own bed.

A bit shyly Aveen observed the other Miqo’te. The currently a bit slumped but muscled shoulders, both hands stiffly around the cup on his lap. He still looked angry. But more in a desperate and lost way now. His heavily pierced ears had shiftet a bit downwards. His open hair fell around his shoulders and towards his collar bones. He had nice collar bones, wherever this out of place thought suddenly came from. But the longer Aveen looked at him, he could not deny that he was…. pretty. The downcast green eyes seemed to silently ask the tea in the cup for answers.

“This isn’t coffee.” then came the conclusion after some minutes of silence.

“It’s black tea. From Hingashi.” Aveen said calmly as if it was some wonderous thing.

“Do you have coffee?”

“Uhm… sadly no.” Aveen admitted. “Do you… want to talk about it? What happened?”

Somna’a breathed in and out deeply, his free chest moving up and down with it. He still wore a fresh bandage around his belly. He liftet his head but looked somewhere past Aveen towards the tentwall. ”Well… I am unemployed now. Great, right? So much to the talk of ‘He likes me’.” he said bitterly and with a hiss in his voice. “I know it was kind of my fault that our attack that two nights ago did not go as planned. And maybe I wasn’t the most trustful soldier he ever had. But how could I have known that these fucking Garleans still had this little… Magitek things with them.”

“So… thats where the projectiles were from.”

“Yeah…. it was easy to shoot at us after we attacked. And I didn’t care anymore about the orders from Ala Mhigo. They all payed. From what I heard, we blew this Nest of Dogshit up completely.” He even sounded content with that. “If you’d ask me, we should just kill every Garlean we find immediatly anyway. What’s the use in taking prisoners and giving them the chance to redeem themselves.” he looked Aveen straight in the eyes now, as if hoping for agreement. “They called us savages! So fine, let’s behave like savages when it comes to having mercy with them. They didn’t have one speck of mercy with us either!” his voice grew more and more tensed with every word and Aveen wasn’t truly shocked by Somna’a’s perspective. But it still made him sad. Somna’a’s hands around the cup formed a bit like claws. ”You think the same, don’t you?” he now asked directly, still looking lost and searching for something.

Aveen’s face looked a bit agonized and he sensed that whatever he would answer to this, in front of him sat a man who hated the empire with every fibre of his being and whatever had happened to him, or where his anger and fear had their roots, Aveen could not take this away from him. ”Somna’a. What the empire did was wrong and repulsive in many ways. But revenge is…. not always the best answer.” he said carefully.

“But what are we… what am I without revenge?! It’s the only thing some of us have left!”