Chapter Text
He was just done thanking the stars - for humans inventing dandelion wine, for Teyvat's fresh breezes bringing him such lovely friends, and for imminent freedom that always seems to follow in his footsteps. Someone might say that he brings it, to give to everyone who might desire it, but if it was really the case, would he be struggling to stay free himself? He didn't grant freedom - he was just showing the world where it lies.
Venti lost count of how many times he asked the stars. Was he free from the start, or was resistance the source of his freedom? At times he thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to become mortal too - being a god had its own downsides, such as responsibility which cannot be avoided forever.
He feared the thought that after all these years of knowing each other Morax's exhaustion rubbed off on him somehow.
He didn't want to change, nor did he feel it in his bones.
"My winds are as strong as ever! I don't need any celestial gimmick to stir up such storms poor ol' Decarabian would quake in fear under his rotten gravestone!"
But the change was onto him already. Perhaps, not an overwhelmingly drastic one, but still a change. For once, he wanted to stay. Close to another, and not to show them where freedom lies. Not to remind them of their courage. His desire was far more egoistic, and so much more... human-like. Mortal. This time, he wanted to stay for himself. He wanted the comfort of having someone he could call "his".
Venti didn't know how to address such a sudden realization. He's a god of freedom, he cannot bind others to his will! But he cannot enforce freedom onto them either. Can he rely on them to understand and accept his feelings? No. But does he want to be understood and accepted? As all living beings... Naturally, yes. And so he proceeded to taking it how a mortal would - with no regrets, aiming to live as if his life was as short as a hundred years.
Venti was often there, right under his nose, in the form of a friendly gale, watching over Aether's misadventures. Lifting him up among stone pillars of Liyue so he may soar high and reach his destination, protecting him from the creeping cold of the ice-shackled Dragonspine, lending him his aid in both battle and exploration... Following him around everywhere in Mondstadt, and taking great pleasure in pretending to be one with the anemograna - to dance in the palm of Aether's hand and to elevate him so effortlessly, as light as a feather. He was as weightless as a ray of sunshine, illuminating the darkest and gloomiest of nights for Venti without ever knowing what he does to the archon's heart.
The winds that year felt different. Gentler and warmer than ever, nourishing plant life by bringing in lots of moisture and blessing Mondstadt with a bountiful harvest. The golden ears of wheat remind him greatly of the star traveler's locks which he so loves to gather and braid, for Aether can't be bothered to do it himself. But that only makes Venti feel warmer on the inside. Each time he sits behind Aether he knows that this is something only the two of them share. Aether's braid is pretty much always delightfully messy by the moment Venti can get his hands on it, and he is happy to redo it over and over again, caressing surprisingly soft strands of gold between his fingers.
Aether, in exchange, tends to their weapons or cooks some apple beef stew, which never fails to fill the air in their camp with a truly divine aroma. For a moment Venti thinks that he'd prefer the apples fresh, but as he bites into soft meat he no longer regrets anything. Aether smirks at the softness of his face and pours him another steaming bowl. Perhaps, he managed to achieve what few adventurers can boast. Perhaps, he caught the wind.