Chapter Text
“Someone who can’t let go of the past, and gives up on the present instead...I wonder...if such a person was forced to take their first step towards the future, which way would they go?
It’s the fourth night this week that Lumine has found Venti sitting at the counter in Angel’s Share, surrounded by bottles and empty tankards, so drunk that he’s almost falling off the barstool. And it’s Wednesday.
"Ugh, you reek of alcohol, you tone-deaf bard!” Paimon exclaims, admonishment heavy in her high-pitched voice. “Didn’t you learn anything from that Nimrod... nimrod during the Windblume Festival?!”
Lumine doesn’t say anything, but silently she agrees. It concerns her to see Venti acting like this, and she wonders what’s changed.
We did, the answer whispers through her head as if carried on the wind, but as ever and always, her thoughts are only her own. Once we’d learned more about Stanley, Venti told me more about his friend. She’d already guessed the general idea, both of Stanley’s story and Venti’s, but there was a vast gulf of distance between suspecting something was true and knowing for certain that it was.
“Time passes so fast, you’ve none to waste,” Venti muses, an atypical note of melancholy in his cheerful tone, making his words ring out ever so faintly discordant. “With wine this sweet, you should have a taste!”
With a giggle and wink, he leans over to offer Lumine his own half-empty glass, and sways so precariously on the stool that she can’t help reaching out to steady him, reflexively catching hold of those slender shoulders that have a surprising strength in them.
Behind the bar, Charles sighs as he wipes down a glass. “I’d appreciate it if you could see him out,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m worried that he’s either going to fall or be sick. Maybe both. I’d really rather not deal with either.”
Paimon posts her fists on her tiny hips, her tone skeptical and disapproving as she looks down at Venti. “Paimon wants to know where he got enough mora to get this wasted!”
Charles sighs again. “For some reason, Master Diluc said he could open a tab. Even so, I think he’s had enough for tonight.”
More than enough, Lumine thinks as she drapes one of Venti’s arms across her shoulders, one of her own wrapping around his slim waist to help him off the stool and out the door, but she doesn’t say that aloud. He feels so light, his weight so slight, his frame fragile and birdlike, and she’s left to wonder if that’s because she’s grown stronger, or if perhaps Venti is somehow not quite as solid as he appears to be: a wisp of air, a whisper of wind given physical form at the whim of a god.
Whatever the reason, it makes the fact that she has to more than half-carry him out of Angel’s Share easier on both of them, though the way Paimon continues to scold him and be generally unhelpful as they go makes Lumine sigh inwardly.
“Paimon, go pick some apples,” she says at last. She knows she’s repeating herself, but she can’t bring herself to care. And if it worked before, it should work well enough again; no sense in reinventing the wheel--or in this case, coming up with a different excuse to send the pesky pixy away for a while. Just long enough to give us some time to talk, Lumine thinks, casting a concerned look sideways at the half-dowsing bard, though the way his head is bowed makes it impossible to see his face. Long enough for me to figure out how to help him...or at least try to ease some of that grief, if only for a little while.
“Apples? Again?! Why doesn’t Paimon get to hear these secret conversations?!”
Lumine gives her a look that manages to be both apologetic and utterly unrelenting. “Please, Paimon?”
Paimon gives a huff, crossing her arms over her chest as she pouts down at her Traveler. “Okay, okay! But Paimon is getting really tired of this!” Despite her begrudging agreement, she flits off through the air, heading for the fields surrounding Mondstadt, leaving Lumine and Venti alone in the not-quite-silence of the nighttime city.
Venti gives a quiet chuckle, raising his head enough to meet Lumine’s eyes, and she can see the familiar sparkle of mischief gleaming there. “Well...now that the pest is gone at last...we’d better make our getaway--fast!”
There’s a sudden rush of wind around them both, and Lumine feels the familiar sensation of having it scoop her up, cradling her as tenderly as a lover. As well-trained as she is after Amber’s lessons, and considering that flying itself is second nature to her, Lumine’s glider comes out on reflex, and that rising wind swells beneath its wings, lifting her high above the city.
It carries her higher, and much farther than she could’ve gotten on her own--even jumping from the top of the tower of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters and gliding doesn’t get her anywhere close to this sort of speed and elevation, and Lumine finds herself smiling broadly. This is how it had felt when she’d first arrived at Mondstadt, when Venti (though she hadn’t known it was him then, of course) had helped her drive the poisoned, maddened dragon--Dvalin now, Stormterror then--away from the city.
“Concentrate.” Venti’s voice rings in her ears just like before, though this time it’s far softer, a murmur rather than a resounding order. “Grasp the wind...” His words are largely unnecessary, because Lumine has had wings from the time she could first remember. Being in the sky is as natural as breathing, and now that she is returned to the heavens, she doesn’t just float along, she soars.
All too soon they reach their destination, or rather the place that Venti had wanted to bring her. Lumine had figured that it was a toss-up between Venessa’s tree at Windrise and the statue of Barbatos in front of the cathedral. Since she’d sent Paimon outside the city, heading to the statue made the most sense, and she isn’t wrong, or at all surprised when Venti carefully deposits her in the outstretched hands of his statue, as gently and easily as passing something from one hand to another, and in a way that’s exactly what he’s doing.
Lumine settles in, feet dangling over the edges of those giant fingertips, utterly unconcerned about what would be, to most people, a fairly dizzying drop. Venti is even less mindful of the height, reappearing seemingly out of nowhere and sprawling out bonelessly on the hard stone next to her.
“Traveler! Let’s play a game!” he exclaims, eyes luminously beautiful and even more otherworldly in the reflected moonlight. His hat slips off as he shifts, changing his position to rest his head on Lumine’s thighs, and he lets it lie where it fell, uncaring of the details and content to relax against her.
Lumine doesn’t protest the position--it’s Venti, and she knows by now that he’ll do whatever he thinks he can get away with. A lap pillow is hardly the worst thing he could come up with, so she just smiles down at him fondly as she cards her fingers through his bangs, silently admiring how soft and fine his hair is. Even so, she knows better than to agree to any kind of bargain without being told what she’s in for, though she isn’t truly worried about what he might ask of her if she were to lose. Regardless of who or what else he is, Anemo Archon or not, Venti is her friend. She trusts him.
“What sort of game?”
He gives a bubbling laugh at her judicious vigilance, delighted by how smart she is, though once again there’s an oddly discordant note in the sound, this time one that tells her that there’s a part of him that wishes that she wasn’t quite so astute.
“Ah...You know, you’re so smart it almost makes me uncomfortable sometimes… But then, maybe it’s right that true friends can tell what the other is thinking.”
That was what he’d said to her before, in this very spot, though back then he’d been sitting up, sitting well away from her, carefully poised and delicately balanced. He’d been so calm, she should have known that it was all a front. Maybe she had, but simply couldn’t bring herself to say anything out of respect for his dignity. (An odd word to use in regards to the mischievous little bard, perhaps, but apt nonetheless, in this case.)
“It’s one I made up myself, so you know that means it’ll be good!”
“I know that means it’ll probably be easy to tilt things in your favor. But I’d like to hear about it anyway.”
Even draped bonelessly across her thighs as he is, Venti manages to look wounded, pressing a hand to his chest in an overdramatic fashion as he says, “Your mistrustful insinuations cut me to the quick!”
“Then let’s play your game and see--if they aren’t true, they won’t stick.”
Her rhyming answer earns her another delighted peal of laughter, and already the weight that’s been sitting heavy in her chest ever since she went on that journey with Dainsleif has lightened. Venti is good company, perhaps simply good for her in general, she’s found. He knows when to give her space and when to step in, when to be silent and respectful and when she needs a bit of boisterous bluster. His music always lifts her spirits, and there’s been many a restless night when it’s lulled her to sleep.
“An excellent proposition, my favorite disciple!” he says, gesturing so floridly that Lumine is surprised that he doesn’t accidentally hit himself in the face. “I call this game ‘Telling Truths’! The way that you play is, you have to tell the other person something, and they have to figure out if it’s true or not. If they can, they win, and you have to follow an order that they give you. If they can’t, then you win, and they have to do something you order them to do instead.”
That sounds fairly entertaining, though as she’d said, it’s also clearly in his favor. As a talented bard with a secret identity, Venti can tell a half-truth with a smile so bright that you don’t even look for the lie in his words. Lumine prefers to be straightforward and honest, sometimes bluntly so, though since coming to Teyvat she’s had to engage in her own fair share of misdirection and subterfuge.
“Do we have to follow the order right away, or can you just agree to do it later?”
“It’s best if you do it right away! But,” he drags out that last vowel for several seconds before going on, “as long as you do it eventually, it should be fine!”
It makes a lot of sense that the Anemo Archon, who doesn’t want to rule his country, would be fairly lax about the rules of a game he made up.
“All right,” Lumine says, giving a small nod as she continues to comb her fingers through his hair. “Sounds like fun. Let’s give it a try.”
“Hehe, excellent! And since it’s my game, I’ll go first to give you an example! Hmm, now let me see...” His eyes drift mostly closed as he gets lost in thought for a few seconds, then open wide again as he grins and tells her, “Sometimes, I wish I could fight with a spear instead of a bow! It just...sort of seems like the popular weapon of choice for Archons these days, you know?”
Lumine gives a chuckle. “Not true. You’re more than content to keep whoever or whatever you’re fighting at a distance. And what other Archons do doesn’t really matter to a free spirit like you.”
Venti gives a pleased hum, smiling up at her. “As expected of my foremost devotee, you saw right through that one! So, what’s your order of punishment?”
“Play ‘Fondest Strength’ for me,” she tells him without even having to pause to think about what she wants him to do.
“Aha, that captivated by my music, are you? Well, who am I to disappoint, or disobey the orders of a truly lovely lady?”
“Maybe you really are drunk after all,” Lumine snorts, shaking her head at him. It isn’t like Venti to compliment her looks--her strength, her intelligence, her kindness, yes, all of that and more, but she wonders why it is that now, tonight, he’s suddenly seemed to decide to notice her physical appearance for once. Venti’s face is a closed book however; he simply smiles, summons his harp, and plays the requested song, all without even sitting up. Soothing music fills the warm night air and the small amount of space between them, and Lumine feels the coiled knot of anxiety that’s been sitting in her chest and making it hard to breathe begin to loosen. It’s been there ever since she saw Aether again, ever since he said those calm, confusing, and most of all cold words to her. Instead of explaining things fully, instead of taking her hand and leaving this world behind and running, her brother had shut her out, and for the first time since they were separated, Lumine truly felt alone.
The warmth and weight of the little bard lying in her lap fills up her loneliness a surprising amount, and by the time the last note of the song fades away into the surrounding darkness, Lumine isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or cry. She can’t really do either though, because-
“Your turn, Traveler! Let’s hear it!”
In the back of her mind, she’d been trying to come up with a good lie, or even better an unlikely truth, while she listened to Venti’s song, and several decent prospects had come to mind. She doesn’t want to make this too serious, at least not until Venti decides to do so, so she goes for something playful and light.
“So...that line I gave you in front of the cathedral, about your eyes? That...wasn’t actually a line.”
Seeing the skeptical smirk and raised eyebrow Venti is giving her, Lumine rushes to clarify, trying to ignore the faint flush she can feel rising to her cheeks and stay serious, to make it harder for Venti to figure out if what she’s saying is true or not.
“Well, it was, in that I knew that it was the sort of thing you say to charm someone--bards excepted, apparently,” she adds with a teasing smile. “But...it was also true.” Her own eyes go a little distant as she continues absently, “I’ve forgotten so much, but I remember the storms we had in the spring. The sky was so vibrantly green, it was like a brand new color. Like nothing I’d ever seen before. And at night, the clouds would be so thick that it was like staring up into nothingness, like someone had spilled the most enormous pot of dark blue ink and it had flooded the sky...”
Venti lets out an awkward little throat-clearing cough to get her attention, and Lumine gives a start as she comes back to herself, pulling her mind out of memories so old that they’d begun to fade, time causing them to blur into a hazy mess. But when she looks down and meets the stare of the god still sprawled comfortably across her thighs, all those thoughts and recollections come flooding back, that one memory about the sky in her hometown a thread that binds them all together. An anchor, or a lodestone.
“Well! I’m gonna say...that with that much feeling behind it, you must be telling the truth.” The expression on his face is a little smug, but there’s a softness in it as well, and he’s looking up at her in a strange way, something in his eyes that Lumine can’t quite place. She can’t muster any words to tell him he’s right, so she just gives a silent nod, and that smugness increases as once again he’s set to musing.
“Hehe, that was easy! Now, what should I have you do…ah, I know! Teach me a song from another world! Something that you learned on your journey, or something from your home world, either is fine!”
Lumine thinks for a moment, trying to recall a good song, anything that had stuck with her that seems to fit the moment and the mood. At last, she recalls a simple little song from one of the worlds that she and Aether had passed through, something they’d both enjoyed. Whenever she’d sung it before, she’d thought of her brother; but now...well, now she’s had to find other sources of sunshine, and one of the largest is currently resting his head comfortably on her lap and looking up at her, expectant and eager, and that’s just the push she needs to settle on this song and sing it to him. She might not be an idol like Barbara or a bard like Venti, but Lumine’s voice is clear and sweet nonetheless, though it’s hard not to feel a little self-conscious while singing for someone who performs regularly:
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
You make me happy when skies are grey.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you,
Please don't take my sunshine away.
“...Ah...” Venti murmurs as she falls silent, his harp already out again, “yes, very nice. Simple notes but sweet lyrics! So, it’s something like...” His fingers dance across the strings, and even after only hearing it once, he’s already got it, or very nearly so. “All right!” he says after several minutes of strumming, building on that melody and making it more complex. “Let’s keep playing the game! But, fair warning: if I win again, I’m asking you to do a duet with me!”
Lumine can think of far worse things that he could ask her to do, not that he would, and accepts that challenge with a smile. “What if I win first, and ask you to do the same?”
Venti gives a scandalized gasp, but his smile belies the indignation in his tone. “What? How dare you steal my challenge!”
“It’s not cheating though,” she points out. “There’s no rule to prevent it.”
“You’re right, you’re right...” Venti sighs, conceding the point. “Ah...and it’s definitely better that way. Too many rules just makes a game no fun!”
“That’s a very ‘Venti’ thing to say,” Lumine comments, though she wonders if it’s more Venti, or if it’s actually more Barbatos. Perhaps, in this case, it’s both.
“Hehe, of course! Everything I say is a very Venti thing to say!”
They continue to play the game for a while, and while Lumine was right about Venti being a good liar, sometimes when she looks down into those bright eyes, she can read the truth there no matter how much impish misdirection he layers over and around it. She’s also much better at being unreadable than even the little bard had expected, and all told, it ends up being a fairly even match, with a good deal of laughter and silly challenges exchanged between the two. By the end of things, Venti has made her promise to offer an armful of Cecilias to Barbatos in the Favonius Cathedral tomorrow, as well as bring him an expensive bottle of alcohol from Inazuma, whenever she finally travels there; inversely, Lumine has made him promise to play the song she just taught him to one of the Cat’s Tail cats, and also to eat an entire Mushroom Pizza, cheese and all, right in front of her.
“Aughhhh! But cheese is such a smelly, sticky, slimy disgusting mess! Choose something else, any thing else, please!”
“What if I promise to make the cheese and the whole pizza myself? I won’t overdo it on the cheese either, I promise.”
Venti frowns, crossing his arms and closing his eyes, his expression a thoughtful pout as he gives a considering hum. “Hmm...well, in that case...I guess I can give it a try...”
“If you don’t, you’ll be cheating. Breaking one of your own game’s few rules.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me!” Exhaling a deep breath, he relaxes again, crossed arms loosening to rest on his midriff instead as he turns his face to look out towards the rooftops and mutters, not quite under his breath, “Heh, who would have thought you’d be this good at my game...ah...oh well...”
Lumine just smiles down at him and resumes stroking his hair, brushing it back out of his eyes whenever a passing breeze musses it. Right now, she’s just existing in the moment, and it’s nice. Nice not to be brooding about Aether, or any of the other things that have happened on her journey. She’s here for Venti, to support him and listen to whatever he might have to say, whatever sort of explanation he might have to give about why he’s suddenly spending so much time drinking. It’s a way to cope, she knows that, but it’s also not a particularly healthy way to cope, even for a god who might not even really be able to get drunk, or stay drunk for any length of time.
They have this time alone, and she’ll push him on it lightly at some point, but she isn’t here to drag it out of him, to stridently demand answers like Paimon would. She’s here to listen, to take comfort in comforting someone else whose cheerful spirit is flagging, though whether he’s just tired or it’s a mask that’s slowly slipping after hundreds of years...she can’t know that, not for sure. Not until Venti decides to talk about it, if Venti decides to talk about it.
Until then, she’s content to simply sit here with him, humming along to whatever song the little bard plays on his harp and enjoying the warmth of his company.