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Clank. Clank. Clank!
Lumine wiped the sweat off her brow, sheathing her sword to collect the precious crystal that had finally been dislodged from its encasing rock. She was collecting Cor Lapis at the peak of Mt. Hulao. Though it was a long and laborious process, the cool wind, fresh air, and beautiful scenery more than made up for it.
She shuffled over to the little pond nearby, where Paimon had set up a little camp with their traveling backpack nestled against a rock. As Lumine approached, Paimon smiled cheerfully and put down the book in her hands, swapping it for a bowl of water.
“The water here is great, Lumi! Want some?”
Lumine took the bowl gratefully, taking a seat beside the little creature and setting the Cor Lapis chunks down.
“Thanks. I’m almost done with these ore deposits, I think. Just three more here, and I spotted another four down the hill.”
“That’s not close to almost done, at all,” said Paimon, pouting as she kicked her feet around. “You take forever to get these ores. And I’m bored. And it’s going to be dusk!”
“It’s going to take even longer to climb this mountain again,” retorted Lumine. She set the bowl down, and got to her feet. “I’ll do my best.”
Her expression was stoic as she marched away, but her mind was screaming with exhaustion. She really should get to learning how to wield a greatsword one day. Sighing, she climbed onto a nearby hill, stared down yet another Cor Lapis deposit, and plunged straight down with her sword.
The crystal barely cracked. Lumine turned her back on it, climbing up the hill again, before she was interrupted by a light chuckle.
“You should just buy these, don’t you think?”
She spun around, jumping at the sudden voice that was definitely not Paimon’s. Her eyes widened.
Childe was standing only a metre or so behind her, his hair messy as always, his arms folded. She had not noticed his presence at all.
“Why are you here?” she asked immediately, leaning backwards warily.
He raised a brow. “For work,” Childe replied simply. “I’m surveying the dwellings of the Adepti.”
The Adepti? Oh, that’s right. Lumine had seen a cave with a large seal nearby.
“I’m truly surprised,” he said, looking more amused than anything, “That you would be mining ore right in front of an Adepti’s home. How courageous.”
Lumine looked around a little nervously before resolutely fixing her glance on Childe.
“I haven’t gotten any complaints.”
“I don’t wonder why,” said Childe, an unreadable smile on his face. He tilted his head to the right. “I wouldn’t complain if it were me, you know?”
Lumine blinked twice in rapid succession, parsing the meaning of his words and feeling unsure as to what he was implying.
“Thanks?” she muttered, smiling hesitantly. “I’ll continue, then. I have to finish this soon. It’s almost dusk.”
“Ah—” said Childe, grabbing her wrist lightly as she turned around. “Are you sure you don’t want to buy these things? There’s plenty at the market.”
“No, no thank you,” said Lumine, looking up into his blue eyes sincerely. “That’s quite a waste of Mora.”
“I’ll buy it for you,” he offered.
“I’m not accepting charity,” said Lumine, looking a bit petulant as she removed his grip on her wrist. “And I’m doing fine on my own.”
“You aren’t,” chuckled Childe, tapping his index finger on his lips lightly, looking at her slyly. “You’ve been here for a long time, haven’t you?”
He raised both hands, and from them, two identical greatswords of water materialised—from the hilt to the tip.
“C’mon, I’ll help you,” he said, smiling, as he swung the greatswords in quick succession, splitting the Cor Lapis node open in no time at all.
Lumine’s eyes widened. A greatsword to the rescue!
“Thank you very much, Childe,” she said shyly, pointing to a nearby cliff. “I’ll go start on the last cluster over there, then.”
She hadn’t moved more than twelve steps away when the low ‘clunk’ noise of minerals being broken stopped.
“Here they are,” said Childe, his hand outreached over Lumine’s shoulder, his bounty of Cor Lapis within it. He lowered his head such that he was speaking into her ear, his hair brushing hers. “Hey, you’re not running away from me, are you?”
Lumine blushed, jumping and accidentally pressing herself into him.
“No! Just. Efficient,” she said, and even as the words left her mouth, she was reminded of the stilted speech of her wolf-friend, Razor. She shook her head and extracted herself from him. “Sorry. Thank you.”
He grinned deviously.
They made quick work of the last cluster of Cor Lapis, and headed back to Paimon. In the distance, they could see her doing cartwheels in the air, her scarf held upright by an unknown force. Paimon’s large eyes blinked rapidly, before she shot back to an upright position.
“Eeeeeeeeeh?! Mr. Fatui Harbinger!”
After the initial shock, Lumine explained the story behind this.
“So, that was what happened,” concluded Lumine, looking at Paimon sternly. “And that’s why I will be sharing the food that I cooked, mind you, with him. No objections.”
“But—”
“I was the one who collected the fowl, too.”
“But—”
“No buts,” snapped Lumine, handing three of the delicious-looking mushroom-and-chicken skewers to Childe.
“It’s my honour,” he said graciously, popping the food into his mouth carefully. He closed his eyes, savouring the flavours. “A great treat after a long, hard day of work.”
“You were done with those ores under five minutes,” declared Paimon, her little fingers pointing at him accusingly.
“I have non-good Samaritan work to do, you know,” he said casually, glancing over at her lazily.
“Are you done for the day, then, Childe?” asked Lumine, as she packed up their traveling backpack.
“I suppose so. Are you heading back to Liyue?”
Lumine nodded affirmatively, her eyes returning the question.
“Me too. Let’s go, then.”
Lumine only realised something was wrong a few minutes into their trek. Childe was taking the stairs down. The stairs. Did he really plan to walk down this tall mountain?
“Uhm, Childe—” she started, tugging lightly on the ends of scarf.
He looked back at her.
“Wouldn’t gliding be faster?” she suggested, the corners of her lips curled up mischievously.
Paimon glared at her, the unwelcome phrase reminding her of a certain tone-deaf bard.
“Those Mondstadt gliders?” he asked, grinning wolfishly. “Good idea. I’ve always wanted to try it out. I don’t have one, you know.” He opened his arms widely. “And I can’t fly like your little friend here. So you’ll have to carry me with you.”
“Well…” muttered Lumine, looking perplexed. She forgot that gliders were a Mondstadt specialty. “I don’t know if I can carry your weight, but I can try.”
She stepped closer to him, and when he showed no sign of moving, reached up to wrap her arms loosely around his torso, her face buried in his red scarf. She felt her heartbeat drum to the beat of a cicin’s wings. He smelled like the fresh air at a beach, like the sweetness of coconuts, and to be frank, blood.
“You’re kinda short when up close,” Childe said, smirking.
Lumine moved her head up. “Hey!”
Her protests were cut short, however, by Childe tightening her hold on him. He hoisted her up so that her head could look over his shoulders, and locked her arms into place under his own. He smiled gently. They were in a very comfortable embrace, albeit with her attached to Childe much like a koala bear.
“Let’s go, little firefly. Don’t worry, I’ll hold onto you.”
She didn’t give much thought to it, and let the wings of her glider magically expand outwards.
The pair slowly, delicately stepped off the mountain.
The rush of wind.
For a moment, Lumine panicked. They seemed to be moving down more than normal—until she remembered that this was a likely consequence due to the much heavier weight of Childe. They caught the strong updraft coming out of Mt. Hulao, buoying their combined weight for a few seconds and spinning them around, before Lumine willed her glider to move back into the direction of faraway Liyue.
“Do you like it?” she asked after a period of comfortable silence, her smile evident in her voice. “I love the view when gliding in Liyue. And this fresh air, when we’re away from the city.”
“I do, though it would be nice to be able to fly like the birds do.”
“Indeed,” sighed Lumine, as she looked at the towering mountains through the mist, admiring the trees whose leaves were as red as Childe’s tousled hair, which was certainly a rare shade in this season. “I miss that.”
“Miss?”
She didn’t have a chance to correct her mistake, however, when she was interrupted by the consecutive shots of four Hilichurl arrows. It narrowly missed her, passing through the middle of her outstretched glider wings harmlessly.
“That’s a lot of Hilichurl archers! I can’t avoid the arrows too well,” said Lumine warily. She evaluated the distance to the ground—if she performed a plunge attack at this height, she would still survive—and rather than risk being shot out of the air unprepared by the Hilichurls, she plunged to the ground rapidly, hugging Childe tightly, shielding him from the impact.
When the dust settled, Childe sat up gingerly.
“You seem like you’ve done this a lot,” he said, looking slightly dazed but unfazed. “So that’s the experience of a Mondstadt glider.”
“Y-yeah,” breathed Lumine, smiling weakly. The extra person had not been added in Lumine’s estimations, and the added impact on her had done far more damage than expected.
The fragile sound seemed to alert him, and his head turned sharply to evaluate her form.
“You’re very hurt,” he stated, frowning for the first time she’s ever seen, his blue eyes narrowed. “That’s not right, is it?”
“I might have miscalculated,” said Lumine sheepishly, holding up a finger to stop him. “But I’m fine, really! It happens more than you think.”
He didn’t look convinced, so she earnestly tried to prove it. “Did you know, I have never fallen unconscious due to battle? Rather, what happens is—I fall off cliffs accidentally or something of this sort.”
“Lumiii!” cried Paimon, who had followed them from a distance and was waving her limbs frantically. “Let’s get you to an Archon statue, without delay!”
“On the bright side, we are perhaps a third of the way closer to Liyue,” continued Lumine, looking apologetic. “Please go on first, we’ll be right after you.”
Childe made no move to leave, reaching out for her face and moving his thumb lightly over the peak of her cheekbone, making her golden eyes widen in surprise. He looked at her curiously.
“You make a nice expression when like this,” he muttered, his own indecipherable.
Lumine felt a chill go down her spine, and immediately attempted to sit up. Her right leg burst with sudden pain, and she gasped involuntarily. She examined it carefully, and saw that the underside had caught the sharp edge of a nearby ore. The great force of falling had exacerbated the damage and the muscles of her under-thigh was exposed, ichor blood leaking from the wound.
“I’m totally fine,” she insisted, trying to get to her feet.
“My, I’ve seen plenty of blood in my time, but nothing like golden blood. The rumours are true, then. You really are an alien,” remarked Childe nonchalantly, as he jerked her into his lap face-down, such that her wound was facing up. He appraised it. “Why do so many ladies wear patchy armour? I get being fashionable. But why not be fashionable and well-protected, like me?”
“Hey!” said Paimon. “Let her go, we’ll be fine.”
“I’m a Hydro user. I can heal too,” said Childe, though his face was twisted into a mischievous grin that only Paimon could see. Blue energy as deep as his eyes flowed from his fingertips in a deep arch, cradling the wound.
Lumine made a sharp, pained noise. This was nothing like the healing she experienced from Barbara, the Statue, or Xingqiu.
“Wha—ouch!” she cried, trying to twist her body around, though Childe’s hand pressed her body down in warning. Her wound was burning like Pyro slimes had breathed on it, and it throbbed as if said Pyro slimes were jumping on it. “Stop it!”
She managed to twist her upper torso around, looking at Childe as tears formed on the corners of her eyes. Paimon wrapped herself around his arm, trying to drag it away, though it was to no avail.
“It’s saltwater,” he explained with a wry smile. “You know, in Snezhnaya, healing is supposed to hurt. Otherwise, you learn lessons slowly, no?”
“That sounds really cold,” mumbled Lumine, who had crumpled into her position, her hands balled up in fists. The sharp, stinging burning in her thigh would not let up in the slightest, and in fact seemed to only get worse over time.
She groaned, her eyebrows arched in agony, and reached up to push at Childe’s chest.
“I’m not from Snezhnaya! And why is it taking so damn long?”
He seemed to think for a second.
“Like I said earlier…you make a nice expression when like this,” he said cheekily, the corners of his eyes upturned in a genuine smile.
Paimon punched him.
It was not a weak punch, mind you, but her fist was tiny. The effect was not as desired, but her message was clear.
“What does that even mean? Stop it, you sadistic Harbinger!” Paimon cried, scowling, her arm readied for another punch.
Childe rolled his eyes, but complied. Lumine let out a relieved groan as the pain receded from her thigh. She twisted in his lap weakly, inspecting the state of her wound. New, but extremely raw and pink skin had closed over the exposed muscles, and it was no longer dripping blood. It was surely much better than before, though not yet fully healed.
“What was that for?” she demanded, looking a little betrayed.
He propped Lumine’s torso up, cradling her head. He gently kissed the beaded tears near her eyes away, startling her.
“A cultural miscommunication, I’m sure,” he said, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Just a little joke on my part. I won’t do it if you hate it.”
Though Lumine doubted that it was merely a miscommunication, she nodded anyway, trying her best to suppress her turbulent feelings. “Don’t do cruel things.”
Standing up with Lumine still held securely in his arms, he looked up at the rapidly darkening sky. It was already dusk.
“And if I like to?” he asked evenly.
The question caught her off guard, and scenarios flashed through her head. Scenarios that only became curiouser and curiouser and curiouser. Perhaps it was his close proximity that influenced her jumbled thoughts—but she shook herself out of it, feeling a little flushed. What was wrong with her?
She didn’t reply, and he didn’t ask for an answer.
With a great leap into the air, he jumped effortlesly from mountain to mountain, their weight supported by platforms of water that appeared whenever Childe’s feet touched the air.
“Where are we going?” asked Lumine, looking wary. “You left Paimon behind.”
“Liyue, yes?”
The shrill wail of Paimon’s voice become louder and louder as she neared them, shooting across the sky like a peachy-white dart.
“Lumiii!” she repeated, catching her breath as she skidded to a floating stop in front of them. “Hasn’t anyone told you before? Never go to a second location with a kidnapper!”
After much fuss and pointed fingers courtesy of Paimon, they landed near the outskirts of Liyue.
“Dinner?” offered Childe, smiling innocently.