Chapter Text
When Nefer was still new to Nod-Krai and she first met the illustrious Moonchanter of the Frostmoon Scions, she was skeptical.
She had heard rumors before ever laying eyes on the woman. A beacon of hope on Hiisi Island. A magnanimous leader, altruistic and caring as if she were the personal guardian of each and every resident of the Enclave. Peaceful. Composed. Distant.
These were all words used to describe Lauma. Nefer had built up a profile of all the major leaders of Nod-Krai when she decided to settle here. After clearing out the previous slimy faction leaders that had wormed their way into the islands, she made an effort to keep an eye on anyone who was powerful enough to test the balance of power again.
She had decided, despite everyone telling her the Moonchanter would never hurt a fly, that Lauma was someone to keep an eye on. Her suspicions were doubled when she met the Moonchanter in person.
It was a long time ago now, but Nefer remembered it like it was yesterday. She had just bought out the building she’d soon be transforming into the Curatorium of Secrets. Her first two months in Nod-Krai had her moving quickly and carefully, gathering as much information as she could. She already had a network of informants that supplied her with the type of knowledge she needed to make it in this lawless land. After a few odd favors here and there, it wasn’t long until she had plenty of people wrapped around her finger.
There was a knock on the door. Nefer paused, setting down a box on the counter. She wasn’t expecting company. Maybe it was the Fatui again, or a Nasha Town resident that needed some shady work handled. Who was she to say no to a job?
When she opened the door to an unfamiliar face, she somehow knew exactly who was standing before her.
“You must be Miss Nefer,” the Moonchanter greeted. Her voice was even gentler than Nefer had pictured, and the words flowed out of her lips like lyrics. Nefer was struck with how beautiful she was, right off the bat. Decorative ornamentation hung from the tips of her antlers to the bracelets decorating her wrists. Nefer drank in her image, gathering as much intel as possible in the split second before her response was required.
“And you must be the venerable Moonchanter I’ve heard so much about,” Nefer replied. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Lauma smiled. “I heard we had a prominent newcomer in Nod-Krai and I thought I’d introduce myself.”
“You came all this way from the Frostmoon Enclave for an introduction?” Nefer asked curiously. Her tone wasn’t combative, but calculating. “Your benevolence precedes you, it seems.”
The Moonchanter laughed. A sound like the twinkling of stars. “I would hardly say that. It's just that Nod-Krai takes some getting used to. I figured a little hospitality goes a long way.”
“How kind,” Nefer mused. It was difficult to tell what the Moonchanter’s ulterior motive was. “Do you greet all newcomers like this?”
“Not all newcomers are as notable as you, Miss Nefer,” Lauma replied easily. “Though, I do try to welcome as many people as I can to this land. It’s often as futile a quest as it sounds.”
“Notable, huh?” Nefer echoed. She scrutinized the Moonchanter, wondering just how much information the woman had. And in turn, wondering just how much information she could give her. But Lauma didn’t seem interested in having that sort of conversation right now.
“If you ever need anything, please feel free to visit me at Hiisi Island. We do what we can to help others,” she offered. Nefer fought to maintain a neutral face. She wasn’t used to the odd showcase of hospitality, and she had enough sense to think of all the strings that may be attached. If Miss Moonchanter wanted an in with the future Curatorium of Secrets, that wasn’t going to work. She’d have to pay the fee just like everyone else.
Something caught the Moonchanter’s attention just then, because her eyes flickered beyond Nefer. Her gaze softened, if that was even possible, and Nefer turned around to see little Ashru stretching on the counter.
Ashru meowed once before hopping off the counter and trotting over to circle Nefer’s legs.
“He’s protective over you,” Lauma said, kneeling down to be face to face with the cat. He purred before leaning his head into Lauma’s palm, letting her pet him.
Nefer furrowed her brows. Ashru wasn’t a friendly cat by any means. The fact that Lauma could pet him so easily was unheard of.
“You’re as good with animals as they say,” Nefer murmured. Lauma smiled before getting back up. Ashru meowed.
“He says it’d benefit you to relax once in a while,” Lauma replied. Nefer gave her a skeptical look, to which Lauma continued with, “And that he’d like some more berries and fried meat from The Flagship.”
Nefer bristled. Part of her had been skeptical that Lauma could really talk to animals, but this was proof enough. She had left out a serving of berries and fried meat for Ashru just last night.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nefer said. “Thank you for your visit, Moonchanter. I expect we’ll be seeing more of each other in the future.”
Lauma gave a polite nod. “Until then, may the Moon Goddess protect you.”
And with that, she took her leave. Nefer shut the door.
Their conversation had been short, but Nefer got the sense that she understood Lauma’s personality from their brief exchange. All the words that left her lips were warm and genuine, and her peaceful eyes cast a comforting gaze on anyone she spoke to. It was like just being around her was enough to put people at ease. She even won over my cat, Nefer thought with a frown.
Lauma was dangerous, that much Nefer knew. Anyone who could lower your guard so easily was bad news.
As if on cue, Ashru purred, rubbing his head against her leg. She knelt down and scratched his ears.
“Since when were you such a glutton, huh?” she mumbled, letting out an amused scoff.
Nefer made a mental note to head to The Flagship that night to fulfill Ashru’s request.
The second time they met, Nefer was the one visiting the Frostmoon Enclave.
It had been about a month since her introduction to Lauma. She hadn’t thought much of the Moonchanter, save for when someone in Nasha Town would talk about the Frostmoon Scions. She’d been busy building up her business, after all.
But when the opportunity arose to visit the Frostmoon Enclave, Nefer’s interest was piqued. She hadn’t been to Hiisi Island yet herself, and Nefer was of the belief that the best way of learning was by doing. In the future, maybe she’d have an affable employee willing to run errands for her. But right now, Nefer had to put in the work to gain every ounce of information she could from Nod-Krai.
If that information included facts about the Moonchanter, so be it.
Her initial impressions were validated when she arrived at the Enclave. Lauma greeted her, just as kind as the first day they met.
“It’s great to see you again, Miss Nefer,” she said sweetly. Nefer had almost forgotten how calming her voice was. In fact, the Frostmoon Enclave itself looked like something out of a dream. Nefer wasn’t a religious person — and she certainly didn’t buy this whole Moon Goddess act — but she could appreciate the aesthetic beauty of a place like this.
“Likewise,” Nefer replied, tearing her eyes away from the scenery and back to the Moonchanter. She looked like she belonged right along the landscape, carved out of its picturesque beauty.
“Please, allow me to treat you to lunch. We can talk over a meal,” Lauma suggested, to which Nefer raised an eyebrow.
“That won’t be necessary. I just came to hear the details of your commission,” she said.
“I insist,” Lauma urged kindly. “Treating newcomers to a meal is a tradition of the Scions. Besides, you walked all the way from Nasha Town. You deserve to relax a little before we jump into business.”
Nefer hesitated. She certainly wasn’t used to this kind of treatment. It felt off. Unfamiliar. This was the exact kind of scenario that she’d avoid if she were still in the desert of Sumeru. Siting down for a meal with an unfamiliar tribe was often a death sentence. Refuse their hospitality and invoke their ire, or eat a meal with them and risk getting your food poisoned.
But Lauma was looking at her with an intense compassion that made Nefer falter. Everyone who walked by made a gesture of respect to the Moonchanter. Even the animals seemed to bow. She felt like she was walking into a spider’s web.
She could play along, at least.
“Very well,” Nefer finally said.
Lauma smiled warmly. She often had a pleasant smile on her face, Nefer noticed. She led the Boss of the Curatorium towards a nearby table.
On their way, they were stopped by no less than three people, each coming up to Lauma with a problem of theirs for her to solve. First, it was a child holding an injured little bird. Lauma spoke to the bird and gave the child instructions to help its recovery. Then, an older man appeared, frazzled that weasel thieves had apparently stolen half the Enclave’s rations for the week. Lauma promised to speak to them and get everything sorted out. The third guest stopped by just to give Lauma an update regarding some offerings for Kuutar. But of course, Lauma could tell something was troubling her further, and listened to her woes for a few moments before giving her some advice.
Lauma sighed, turning back to Nefer as they took their seats.
“I apologize for all the interruptions,” she said sheepishly. Nefer let out a low whistle.
“Is it always like that?” she asked, crossing her arms. “Seems like quite the burden.”
Lauma put her hand over her chest. “More often than not, I’m busy dealing with the affairs of my people and helping solve their problems.” She paused. “I really don’t mind it. It can get tiring, but there’s nothing I’d rather be doing. I’m their Moonchanter. This is what I was made for.”
Nefer let that sink in. For someone to give so much of themselves to others all the time and ask for nothing in return…well, that was simply an unsustainable lifestyle. She was hard-pressed to think that such altruism existed. But the Enclave seemed closed off from the harsh reality of the world, and that was the only way Nefer could justify this kind of behavior.
That, and it seemed like Lauma enjoyed having the world’s expectations on her shoulders. Was it some backhanded sort of masochism, or simply a savior complex?
“Surely, you must get something in return,” Nefer commented, testing her. Being the Moonchanter was never something Lauma signed up for, but rather something she was born into. Why be so okay with it?
Lauma hummed. “I am getting something in return. My faith. The peace of the animals. The happiness of my friends and family.”
Nefer shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like an equal transaction to me. The world works in exchanges,” she said pointedly. “And you’re giving more than you’re getting. It’s bad business.”
Lauma chuckled — that same lovely sound of wind chimes. “Not everything is so black and white, Miss Nefer. My life doesn't have to run like a perfect business model."
A frown tugged at Nefer’s lips. She knew this. But she still couldn’t understand why Lauma was okay with it.
“This might be something we simply don’t see eye to eye on,” Nefer settled on saying. Lauma nodded.
“That may be. Still, I hope you don’t hold our differences against me. I believe your partnership is valuable,” the Moonchanter replied.
It was Nefer’s turn to laugh. “Let’s see what this commission is about, and then we’ll decide.”
They finally got to talking about the real reason Nefer was here, and soon enough she was on her way again to complete her task.
The commission was easy enough. It involved tracking down a missing member of the Frostmoon Scions — turns out, she had run away to willingly join her lover in a gang of treasure hunters. The news came as quite a shock to Lauma, who kindly asked Nefer to keep it a secret.
Of course, Nefer obliged. She was in the business of keeping secrets. But Lauma's request had surprised Nefer.
“I would’ve assumed you’d be fine with sharing the news,” Nefer prodded. They sat in Lauma’s chamber, away from prying eyes. “Honesty seems like a value that the Frostmoon Scions would preach.”
Lauma — for the first time since Nefer met her — looked uncomfortable. “You’re right. I don’t believe in lying. But sometimes it’s…complicated,” she said. “I don’t want to sow discontent amongst my people.”
And Nefer idly wondered whether this was the first flicker of selfishness she had seen from the Moonchanter. She wondered if this was a crack in the facade. The less professional side of her wanted to pry that crack open and see what was inside. Morbid curiosity mixed with the self preservation of needing to know as much as she could about the people she was dealing with. But the rational side of her reminded her that everyone had secrets they weren’t willing to share and things they weren’t willing to talk about. Even Lauma.
The Moonchanter looked pensive. Troubled, even. Nefer furrowed her brows.
“Lying isn’t always such a bad thing, you know,” Nefer said. “People lie to survive. Can you blame them?”
Lauma stayed quiet for a moment, chewing on Nefer’s words. Finally, she broke out into what looked like a small, defeated smile.
“No, I guess I cannot blame them. Everyone has their reason for lying. I just wish it weren’t so,” she admitted.
The Moonchanter was naive, Nefer realized. Incredibly naive. She wondered if, in their future exchanges, they would ever really understand where the other one was coming from. Or if they were simply and fundamentally too different.
Lauma spoke again. “Regardless, I appreciate your help with this commission. As promised, here’s your payment.”
She handed Nefer a bag of Mora, and that was that.
“A pleasure doing business with you, Miss Moonchanter,” Nefer said happily, feeling the weight of the Mora in her palm. “Feel free to stop by the Curatorium if you ever need some more help.”
After that, they fell into a rhythm of sorts. Every few weeks, Lauma would have a new commission for Nefer. Nefer handled them with increasing ease — the more time she spent in Nod-Krai, the more resources she had at her disposal. She even had an employee now: a plucky young woman named Jahoda, eager and ready to help at a moment’s notice.
The Boss of the Curatorium felt like she had a clearer understanding of Lauma by now. The Moonchanter was the picture of benevolence. Too generous for her own good. But there was something beneath the surface that Nefer was sure of — the Moonchanter knew of her ability to sway others with her kind heart.
She believed Lauma didn’t intend to brandish it like a weapon, but that’s how Nefer’s eyes were trained to look at things. Lauma could, if she wanted to, convince someone to walk straight off a cliff.
She was peaceful and altruistic, but that made her dangerous. Even if she didn’t quite realize it herself. Perhaps Lauma would never try and take advantage of that. Perhaps she didn’t have it in her. But the mere knowledge that she could was enough for Nefer to keep her walls up around the Moonchanter.
It’s not like she’d gotten to where she was now by trusting blindly. In fact, she could count on one hand the people of Teyvat that she actually trusted. That list was not going to grow any time soon. Especially not in Nod-Krai.
And still…Nefer kept Lauma around. It was like some sort of curiosity she just couldn't sate. Her mind said, This woman is dangerous, and Nefer said back, Let’s find out how deep that danger runs.
“You shouldn’t bring me any gifts,” Nefer said to Lauma one night. The Moonchanter had brought a fruit basket with her as a special thank-you for the most recent commission the Curatorium had tackled. “The Mora is enough. If you give me a gift, then I’m caught owing you something in return.”
Lauma shook her head, setting the basket down on Nefer’s desk. “Gifts aren’t given with the intention of receiving something in return,” she chided. Nefer sighed, making a mental note to just give the entire basket to Jahoda.
“Please don’t tell me you came all this way just to drop that off,” Nefer said, her eyes flicking up from her paperwork.
“Well, last time I stopped by, you were out on a commission. So I was hoping to see you as well, to thank you in person,” Lauma said. Nefer hadn’t gotten used to her candor. She wasn’t sure if she ever would.
Ashru hopped off of his cat tower and trotted over to Lauma for pets.
“And to curry favor with my cat again?” Nefer scoffed.
“That too,” Lauma replied lightly, not missing a beat among Nefer’s sharp quips. “The truth is, it’s rare for me to be able to talk to someone like this,” she admitted slowly. She had knelt down to scratch Ashru’s chin. “Everyone at the enclave talks to me with reverence and respect, like they’re a little intimidated by me. You’re the only one who just talks to me like a person. It’s refreshing.”
Nefer studied her for a moment. For someone who was so genuine, she kept a lot hidden inside of her. Nefer wouldn’t have guessed this was something that bothered the Moonchanter.
“I should start charging you for my services, then,” Nefer replied smugly.
“I fear my pockets don’t run deep enough for such an invoice,” Lauma mused.
Nefer found herself gazing at the Moonchanter’s simple grace. Even petting a cat was something that looked picturesque when Lauma was the one doing it. That was something else Nefer hadn’t gotten used to — the Moonchanter’s beauty. Perhaps it was part of her charm. The way she wormed into people’s hearts so effortlessly. People like pretty things. Nefer was no exception.
Lauma tilted her head slightly. “Is something the matter?” she asked, noting the way Nefer’s eyes had lingered on her.
Nefer cleared her throat, looking down and busying herself with signing another document. “Nothing,” she said. “I must say I wasn’t expecting company. Jahoda has been taking commissions left and right, and as a result I’m drowning in paperwork.”
Ashru meowed just then, and Lauma looked at him quizzically.
“I’m not sure she’d be very taken to that idea,” Lauma replied to Ashru. The cat meowed again, this time jumping on Nefer’s desk and stepping all over her paperwork.
“Feel free to share with the class,” Nefer murmured, gently picking her cat up to lay on her lap instead of letting him smudge ink with his paws.
Lauma hesitated, as if deciding what to say. She crossed her arms, bringing a hand up in that thoughtful way she always did when she was pondering something.
“Ashru says you’ve been working all day. He wants me to convince you to take a break. Maybe go on a walk for some fresh air?” she tried, her voice patient and lilting.
Nefer scoffed again. “Would you look at that? My own cat is colluding against me.” She looked down at Ashru, scratching his head in between his ears.
Lauma gazed at her expectantly. She had a skill in knowing when to let the silence speak for itself.
Finally, Nefer sighed, standing up and stretching her legs. She felt the familiar aching twinge of having sat down for too long. She couldn’t stop a grimace from flashing across her face.
“I’ll humor you on this walk of yours,” Nefer said. Lauma’s eyes lit up, which told Nefer she had been expecting her to say no. But Nefer liked surprising people. Besides, a walk through Nasha Town always cleared her head. And having company wouldn’t hurt.
The walk was peaceful. It lasted a lot longer than Nefer expected. Not to mention, it started a little tradition of theirs. About once a month, they would meet up for a walk around Nasha Town. It often was prompted by Lauma pulling Nefer away from her desk, but it took many forms. Sometimes, they would exchange information — nothing too serious, but Nefer wanted to know about the state of the Scions, and Lauma wished to know more about the lands outside of Nod-Krai. They’d go on a stroll while they talked, first indulging in small talk before walking somewhere more private to discuss other matters. But it wasn’t always business. Under the moonlit glow, where Lauma looked more at home than she ever did during the day, Nefer would tell her about Sumeru. She’d spare the personal details, of course. It felt odd, talking to someone about her homeland. But in a way, she was glad she could talk about it freely. No Akademiya censorship. No crooked looks from foreigners when she mentioned where she grew up. Lauma was a good listener. Of course, Nefer was always careful not to say too much — she stuck to topics about culture and scenery. She never divulged anything about her own past. That was a story best locked away until it faded with the sands of time.
In return, Lauma would tell Nefer what it was like to grow up as the Moonchanter. She’d disclose her duties, what was expected of her within the Frostmoon Enclave. She was their leader, and with that came a lot of responsibility. She loved it, but she’d be remiss to not recognize the toll that kind of burden takes on someone over time. Not once in their conversations did Lauma ever complain, but Nefer could tell it wasn’t always a picture perfect Elysium over at the Enclave.
Nefer wasn’t sure at what point it became easy to talk to Lauma, but it definitely had. It had turned from business to what Nefer would almost call a friendship. But the moments were few and far between. Just a handful of stolen walks amidst nights of busy work.
Most of their meetings followed some sort of template. Lauma would visit the Curatorium and eventually convince Nefer to take a break from her work. Sometimes, Nefer would catch Lauma giving away provisions in Nasha Town. She’d wait until the Moonchanter was finished before paying her a visit. On rare occasions, when Nefer had a commission related to the Frostmoon Scions, she’d make a trip to the Enclave to conduct business in person.
Lauma had grown to be predictable to Nefer, and the Boss of the Curatorium took solace in that fact. More often than not, she could guess how the Moonchanter would react to certain things, or how she'd respond to Nefer’s dry remarks. In an odd way, it was comforting to rely on how transparent she was.
All the while, Nefer knew in the back of her mind that this was part of the Moonchanter’s charm. She repeated it like a mantra — Don’t be fooled. The more charming the individual, the easier it is for them to use you.
Nefer had been aware of it from the first day they met. But as time and time went by, she was less and less sure that these same rules she’d come to know throughout her life even applied to Lauma. It was almost as though the Maiden of the Grove was an exception to the rules.
At first, Nefer thought Lauma’s charm was all part of some carefully crafted deception. She held power over others in a way she didn’t even intend to. So Nefer found herself precariously balanced between her intellectual infatuation with the Moonchanter, all while reminding herself that she shouldn’t get too close. She had to remain guarded, because if not she’d be caught in Lauma’s web — unable to escape as the spider came crawling to weave even more silk around her.
It was a chance encounter that provided a marked shift in Nefer’s thoughts about Lauma.
Nefer was at The Flagship, as she often was. But tonight wasn’t an information gathering night, like usual. She was meeting with a scholar from the Akademiya, a former client of hers that was deep in debt that he hadn’t paid off. What started off as a normal meeting to remind him of his payment obligations spiraled into the scholar losing his temper and going on and on about how “desert dwellers would never play fair.” She had been dealt her fair share of disrespect as a student of the Akademiya, but it had been a while since she had heard this kind of rhetoric.
She met his fire with ice.
“I don’t care what you think about us desert dwellers,” Nefer said, her words clipped and even. She narrowed her eyes at the man who looked both enraged and nervous — like he had come to his senses. Picking a fight with the most well-connected person in Nod-Krai wasn’t a good idea. “You owe me fifty thousand Mora. If I don’t get it by the end of the week, there will be consequences.”
He gritted his teeth, clenching his fists angrily. “I don’t understand how the Akademiya lets people like you in,” he murmured, getting up from his seat.
“This meeting is over,” Nefer said with an air of finality. “Get me that money.”
The scholar stormed off, knowing full well that he had no other option than to find the Mora he owed — yet still wouldn’t let that stop him from being angry about it.
Nefer sighed, returning to her drink. Talking with certain Akademiya folks never failed to put her in a sour mood.
Just then, she heard the familiar jingle of jewelry behind her.
“Is everything alright?” Lauma asked. “It sounded like there was some sort of argument.”
“Moonchanter?” Nefer couldn’t even hide the surprise in her voice as she turned around. “I never expected to see you here. I thought you didn’t drink.”
Lauma took the open seat next to Nefer at the bar. She looked just as radiant and put together as always. “I don’t,” she confirmed. “Sometimes, when we have extra provisions at the end of the night, we drop them off at nearby establishments. The Flagship patrons love the Frostmoon Scions specialties.”
Nefer let out an amused scoff. “Of course.” She took a sip of the wine in front of her.
“My question from earlier still stands,” Lauma prompted after a beat of silence. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Nefer replied instantly, though she felt her sour mood stirring under the surface. It probably didn’t help that she was already two drinks deep. “Just a client with a big mouth. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
Lauma hummed in understanding. She stayed quiet for another moment. Nefer could tell she was thinking of what to say next.
“You seem upset,” she settled on saying.
“Do I?” Nefer replied, more bitterly than intended. There was no reason she should be taking her anger out on Lauma of all people. And yet, she couldn’t stop herself.
“I don’t know much about the situation, but I’d be more than willing to listen if you want to talk about it,” Lauma offered.
“I’m not one of your Frostmoon Scions. It’s not your job to listen to my woes,” Nefer said coldly, half-regretting the words as they came out of her mouth. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Lauma replied. She gazed at Nefer for a moment before gently putting her hand on the woman’s wrist. Nefer startled, looking up at Lauma. “I know it’s not my job. I’m offering because I mean it.”
For some reason, Nefer was too focused on Lauma’s touch to adequately reply. Maybe it was the two glasses of wine already in her system. Maybe it was the fact that they were so close to each other, an invisible electricity buzzing between their bodies. Up until now, she had just seen Lauma as someone to watch out for. An acquaintance, conversation partner, an intriguing character the likes of which she hadn’t met before. Someone who took herself too seriously and gave too much of herself to others.
It struck Nefer that Lauma cared for her. An innocuous type of care, likely the same she showed to all others in her life. But it felt genuine, in a way that Nefer was hardly used to.
She swallowed thickly. “I appreciate that,” Nefer murmured, unable to pull her eyes away from Lauma.
“That’s what friends are for, right?” Lauma said, her cold fingers still resting on Nefer’s wrist as if that’s where her touch belonged. It was odd — Lauma called her a friend so readily. And Nefer couldn’t even bring herself to disagree.
“…Right,” Nefer finally replied, forcing herself to look away. It was effortless how pretty the Moonchanter looked — and oftentimes, downright distracting. Nefer shook her head to clear her thoughts. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Lauma, seeing that Nefer was not going to take the bait, gave the woman a reassuring smile. “Well then, I guess I should be heading back to Hiisi Island.” She stood up from the barstool. “Until next time, Miss Nefer.”
“See you around, Lady Moonchanter,” Nefer said, staying put in her seat. She watched as Lauma gracefully walked out of The Flagship, her other Frostmoon Scion dutifully waiting for her near the entrance.
Nefer heaved a deep sigh, looking down at the wine in her cup. Her hand felt empty where Lauma’s touch had lingered. There was an odd feeling brewing within her, a liquor-induced swirl of melancholy and curiosity and warmth and…why did her thoughts keep drifting back to Lauma?
It was getting late. She should head back to the Curatorium to feed Ashru. Despite her best efforts to get the Moonchanter out of her mind, Nefer couldn’t help but wonder what Lauma was up to as she walked home in the glowing moonlight of Nod-Krai.
Nefer tried her best to forget about their interaction at The Flagship. The reason being that she was acutely aware of how her mind had chosen to think of Lauma differently. It was difficult to balance reason and rationale with the way Nefer had begun to grow fond of the Moonchanter. Fondness was the only way she could put it. The strategist in her told her that this was exactly what she had anticipated. Lauma had an innate skill to invoke devotion in her loyal subjects, both in her and in their Moon Goddess. Whether it was intended or not didn’t matter. Nefer was just as much of a victim as the pious Frostmoon Scions, and that was no good.
But there was little she could do about it, Nefer decided, besides trying to put it all behind her. If she was aware of this fondness, then she wouldn’t let it get the better of her. That’s what she told herself, at least.
Until, of course, that all came crashing down.
It was an ordinary night. She was walking home after dealing with a commission she had taken near Nothing Passage. By now, she was in the habit of giving most out-of-town commissions to Jahoda. The young woman was always ready to take on a job, and she was plenty capable of dealing with greedy treasure hoarders or ambitious Fatui defectors. But if a job called for some careful negotiation or more volatile individuals, Nefer preferred to keep those for herself.
Her commission had been related to a group of Eremites that had traveled into Nod-Krai. Their leader had begun extorting local merchants, going so far as to kidnap those with precious wares. So Nefer paid them a visit with the goal of reminding them how things worked in Nod-Krai. Sure, the land was lawless and chaotic, but that didn’t mean they could uproot the carefully crafted commercial balance of the island. Plus, it always left a bad taste in Nefer’s mouth when innocent civilians were caught up in the greedy power struggle of those behind the scenes. She was no saint herself, but she knew the difference between productive chaos she could use for gain and just cruel punishment.
Though she was hoping it wouldn’t come to it, she wasn’t particularly surprised when the Eremites decided to attack her during her visit. Five against one wasn’t fair, but she had learned long ago that playing fair got you nowhere in life. Still, she was a much more skilled fighter than she looked, and that false sense of security had been the Eremites’ downfall.
Nefer sighed. It was a long walk back to Nasha Town. She decided to walk by Starsand Shoal instead of trekking through the mountains.
The moon was high in the sky by now, casting a soft white glow on her surroundings. There was an odd tranquility to the beach at this hour. The black sand was soft and cold. The water lapped against the shore calmly and without much ado. Even the Fatui Operatives who roamed the beach had disappeared for the night.
She liked to think of Starsand Shoal as the antithesis to the desert of Sumeru. The sand was moist, the air was chilly, and the water was abundant. No scorpions to burrow out of the sand, no vultures circling overhead, no blinding sun and scorching heat. Just the cool light of the moon and the salty smell of the sea.
And an odd figure standing on the far end of the bank. Nefer frowned. How long had that person been there?
She squinted, straining to see against the darkness of light. And then she caught the glow of antlers and the flash of violet hair.
Was that…Lauma?
She was standing above one of those crabs Nefer had seen from earlier, most likely talking to it. After a beat, she turned around.
“Nefer?” she asked, sounding just as surprised as Nefer felt. The green-haired woman closed the distance between the two of them.
“What a coincidence,” Nefer mused, crossing her arms. It was instinctive, protecting against the chill of the night. “I didn’t think I’d bump into anyone out here, much less you of all people. And here I thought you were only ever on Hiisi Island or in Nasha Town.”
“It’s a long story,” Lauma admitted, almost sheepish. “One that involves a family feud between crabs.” She gestured to the crab by her feet, which lifted up a pincer in what Nefer could only describe as defiance.
“Huh. I see,” Nefer managed, brows furrowed in intrigue. She’d never truly wrap her mind around the intricacies of the animal problems Lauma had to solve. Lauma turned back to the crab, urging it to think about what they’ve discussed, before the crab scuttled away into the night.
Lauma turned to face Nefer, gentle face illuminated by moonlight. But her ever present smile faded when she caught sight of Nefer.
“Miss Nefer, you’re bleeding,” she said, her words wrapped in concern.
Nefer lifted a hand to her face, her fingers coming across a stinging cut against her cheek. Truthfully, she hadn’t even realized she had been injured at all. Maybe a little bruised, but her altercation hadn’t lasted very long. Besides, she had grown up in a world where all that mattered was survival. A small cut had never been something to bat an eye towards.
But that was back then. She wasn’t in Sumeru. She was in Nod-Krai, in front of Lauma the Moonchanter who was looking at her with a marked concern in her beautiful doe eyes.
“It’s nothing,” Nefer said quickly, wishing to quell that concern as fast as possible. She needed to close those floodgates, because Lauma shouldn’t be looking at her like that — like she cared so deeply about Nefer’s wellbeing.
Lauma stepped closer to her. Too close. Nefer could smell lemongrass and lavender on the Moonchanter’s body.
“It’s not nothing,” Lauma replied, bringing her hand up to wipe the blood off Nefer’s cheek.
Nefer’s breath hitched at the physical contact. Lauma seemed to notice and began to retract her hand.
“It’s okay,” Nefer said quickly, unsure if she was talking about Lauma’s hand on her cheek or her minor injury. Lauma seemed to take it as the former, and Nefer was oddly glad when the Moonchanter returned her hand to finish wiping away the blood.
“You should treat it properly,” Lauma murmured, eyes transfixed on Nefer’s face. “It’ll scar otherwise.”
Nefer was suddenly aware of her heart hammering in her chest. Lauma’s palm rested against her cheek. Her hand was cold to the touch, but Nefer’s face was warm. She felt the rough skin where Lauma’s palm was scarred — something Nefer hadn’t begun to unpack yet.
Nefer wanted to reply with a quip. She wanted to tell Lauma, “You should see the other guys,” and brush off her comment with dry humor. She should’ve ended the conversation there and gone back to the Curatorium, parting ways with the Moonchanter.
But for some reason, unknown even to Nefer, she stood there in the moonlight with Lauma, drinking in the Moonchanter’s image of the ethereal beauty. For some curious reason, Nefer was at a loss for words. When was the last time someone had shown her this kind of care? She was undeserving of it, she knew this. And still…
“Nefer?” Lauma asked, her voice light and quiet on her breath. She was staring at the information broker with such intensity, gazing at her as if she was trying to break through the very walls that Nefer had constructed around herself.
Nefer closed the gap between them even further. Without thinking, she planted her lips on the Moonchanter’s. She heard Lauma make a small noise of surprise before the Moonchanter herself deepened the kiss, cupping Nefer’s face with both of her hands. Nefer all but melted into Lauma’s touch, heart fluttering, cheeks flushed. It felt taboo, in a way, to feel desire like this for the Moonchanter. Nefer couldn’t tell when it had begun, but it had been stirring within her chest for some time now.
She’d blame it on exhaustion, the fading adrenaline from her recent skirmish, the light of the moon glowing on Lauma’s perfect figure, the flow of kuuvahki — anything else.
They broke away from the kiss, slightly out of breath. Lauma leaned her forehead against Nefer’s.
“…Sorry,” Nefer finally said, coming to her senses. A smile bloomed on Lauma’s face.
“For what?” she asked pleasantly.
“I shouldn’t have—" The words stopped on Nefer’s tongue. Lauma was looking at her with all the patience in the world — and even a bit of amusement. She cleared her throat. “Are you okay with this?”
“Why don’t you come back to Hiisi Island with me?” Lauma asked, her cheeks dusted a light pink color. “I’ll take a look at that cut of yours. And then…well…”
She turned away, pondering for a moment. Her antlers gleamed in the moonlight, ornaments chiming in the wind.
“By that time, it’ll be quite late. I imagine it’d be easier for you to just stay the night.”
A smirk grew on Nefer’s lips. She had always thought that Lauma was a flirt, but she blamed the Moonchanter’s naivety. Now she realized that Lauma knew exactly what she was doing.
“I suppose you’re right, Lady Moonchanter,” Nefer relented, smile still present on her face. Lauma offered her hand and Nefer graciously accepted it.
In the end, Nefer had been caught in Lauma’s web after all — and the Moonchanter was only going to keep spinning more and more silk to trap her there.
But Nefer, despite all her planning and intuition, hadn’t considered a world in which she enjoyed being caught in this web.
And that was precisely the situation she had found herself in.