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the bandage and the blade
She grew up hunting like this, quiet footsteps following behind her mother as they ventured deep into the woods in search of food, and it is that sense of familiarity that leads her right into trouble. It leads her right into the jaws of the beast, to the achingly violent and familiar, to a buzzing in her bones she thought she had long since left behind. Her Abyss is worlds away, at the end of the Corridor of Doors, tucked away somewhere only her and Aether know. It can’t be here.
Except it is. She screams for him when it happens. Her fingers dig into the dirt. She fights with every ounce of strength she has. She begs and she cries, and when he doesn’t come, when she is reduced to something weak and alone and unremarkable, that is when it finally takes her. It pulls her down into the deepest dark and leaves her there to rot.
And so she rots, and rots, and rots.
It is early morning when Lumine finally returns home.
But that is over now, and she is safe, kneeling down at the side of their bed to watch the man she loves sleep. His eyes blink open the moment she touches his hand, her fingers tangling in with his, and the look of surprise quickly fades from his expression. He smiles at her. She brings his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles.
Childe's fingers are long and twisted, jagged and in some ways unnatural. She knows that he has not lived the easiest life, and it is in moments like this that she sees his pain most honestly. It is because they are the same in this, survivors left undeniably damaged by the calamities that came for them.
If Lumine looks close enough, she imagines she can count the breaks, and see the places where the world saw fit to punish him for his – she catches herself before she can finish the thought.
It’s not a weakness. She frowns. It’s never a weakness when one is a child, too young to defend themselves, left alone to face an enemy greater than the world as they understand it. What does it say about her that she looks at the man she loves, thinks of him in his most vulnerable moments, and then calls him weak?
Maybe she’s becoming just like them; maybe that’s what happens to everyone eventually, when life stretches on too long, when the path forward becomes so dirty you forget the reasons for the step you took. They would be so proud of her, wouldn’t they? She took her time but she got there eventually, finally coming full circle to the point where it all began: crying and small and to blame for all of her problems.
L̷̨̫̼̻͍̠̲͔͛̆͊̔u̷̗͙͈̩̻̳̻͇̭͑̈́͑̄̕͝m̷̱̝͓̭̟̩͚̜̖̹̉̂̌̾̇ì̸̫͈̤͖̐̏̃̊̚n̴̛̯̝̰̺̙̟͕̜̜̞͍̱͈̜̾̐̎̌̀̉̽̅̆̅ͅe̴̡̹̬̮͚͎̫̜̠̪̽̔͐̐̌̋̆̌͌̌̀̿̂̿̕ͅ.
Ļ̶͖̣̳͕̳̙̲̳͇̯̤̖́̊̄͋̄̄͌̅Û̴̢͙̠͔̫̄̋͛͑͆̇́͜͝ͅM̶̨̨̜̭̟̻̻̥͆͊̍͜͜͠I̴͈̟̥̞͒̑̆̋͗̂̍͝͝͝ͅN̷̛̖͚̯͇͚̩̘̼̹͔̄͊͗̔͊͌̅̂̓͂̿̈́͛̇E̵̳̬̖̬̱̲̟̪̩͇̫͎̿̎̉̑̍̒.̶̨̢̨̫͖̟͓̬̤̲̞͇̣̎ͅͅ
Her own name, loud like a bell, a violent chime that rings in her ears.
"Got a surprise for you," he whispers, interrupting the melody before it can begin. He's tired, half awake and only sitting up in bed because of the state she's found herself in. She can tell by the way he moves that she interrupted his first good sleep in weeks, the sluggishness of a body drawn out of its much needed rest a familiar sight to her. Maybe, if she’s lucky, she’ll be able to coax him back to sleep, and she won’t have to worry about the state she leaves him in every time she lands herself in a bit of trouble.
“Lu?” Childe brushes the sleep from his eyes and scoots forward, reaching for her. She doesn’t like the look in his eyes. He sees things he shouldn’t, has since the day he slipped down deep, and because of this he is the only one —
Not the only one, there’s Aether, there’s always Aether, did you forget your brother? Did you? Did you forget him, little girl, forget what he gave up to walk back out into the world with you?
— the only one to know her like this.
There’s a frown on his lips.
She grips the edge of the bed. The bell rings louder until it’s the only thing she can hear. There are drums and the rolling waves of violence dancing beneath her skin, a familiar swell of bright light at the edge of her vision. It disorients her. One moment, she is in her shared bed, in her shared home, in her shared life with the only soul she’s ever loved like this, and the next she’s threatening to slip into the brightest black she’s ever known.
Lumine meets Childe halfway with a kiss. She catches his cheek in her hand, holding him still long enough to steal the words from his lips, to take all his worry and bury it deep in her love for him. This beautiful, wonderful man, a warrior fit to fight for gods, the only one in a hundred worlds to see her every ugly thought and love her still.
“It’s nothing,” she whispers, and kisses him again to quiet his protests. “Just got myself into a state thinking of things I can’t control. But you’re here and that makes things better.”
He’s not happy with that.
“Why are you lying to me?” His hands touch her face. He kisses her lips, her cheeks, her nose, peppering her with his affection in a pointed, aggressive manner. His frustration and worry mix together in a way they only can for him. The thrumming under her skin begins to settle as she leans into him, a pained smile on her face. “You know better than this, Lumine. You don’t need to tell me everything, but you need to not lie to me.”
“I’ll be okay, Ajax,” she whispers. Her soldier, her knight, the only one brave enough to know her fears and fight them with her. She reaches up, wrapping her fingers around his wrists, and does her best to stay together. Even if his face begins to bleed into something else, if his eyes take on an unsightly yellow hue, if he is morphing into something unrecognizable right before her eyes. “For tonight, just let it be.”
He doesn’t.
It’s only later, when she comes to while sitting in a warm bath, her gaze stuck on a cup of tea she’s holding tight in both hands, that she realizes time has passed. She is no longer at the side of her bed, but instead somewhere else, with gentle water lapping against her skin and the familiar smell of bergamot and orange all around her.
She blinks at the cup. She looks over at Childe, who leans into the tub, his fingers dancing along the water. She watches as lilies made of his element float along the surface, twirling to a current of his creation. Soft and soothing, coaxing her back into the world they both belong to, gentle in how he helps her travel home.
“Hello again,” he whispers. He pulls his fingers from the water and kisses the side of her head. His fingers brush through her hair. Soft words in a language she is just beginning to learn settle into her ear.
The lilies continue to spin. She closes her eyes and leans against him. He rests his hand on her shoulder, his fingers soft, his touch careful in a way it only is for her. Tomorrow, they will talk. Tomorrow, she will tell him what happened, and they will go out together and make sure it happens to no one else.
But for now she will sit beside him. She will watch the lilies. She will take comfort in his presence, in knowing that she is no longer alone, and that there is once again a home for her to fight her way back to.