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The last thing the traveler expected this morning was the seemingly unconscious body of the 11th Harbinger lying on her new doorstep.
Lumine stared for a moment.
She shut the door and furiously rubbed her eyes a few times; it was obviously a hallucination from the paucity of sleep these past few nights, what with the flood of Guild commissions lately. She'd been trying not to think about him. This was her brain telling her she needed more rest.
It was a brisk, chilly morning in Qingce Village; orange-pink hues dashed across the sky, the sun gently roused from its slumber. She'd only gotten up because she had heard a rather loud thump against her door.
She opened the door again.
He was still there. Lying on his side, completely still, except for the slight rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
A bout of wariness surged in her, first. How did he find her here? Was this another trap?
The traveler thought of her floating friend, who, if she were here, would be tugging her backwards by the cape with no small amount of fervor, insisting they leave him be and let the Millelith deal with it.
The young man before her coughed, his whole frame seemingly fraught with pain.
She hesitated, before casting the notion aside and kneeling down to peer at him. There were no injuries she could see superficially, but upon closer inspection, there was a light sheen of moisture across his skin. She reached out, warily, to press her hand to his forehead, and-
Oh. She could feel a searing heat radiating from his skin, even without making contact.
"Hey," her voice was frayed with uncertain worry, and she gave Childe's shoulder a light shake. He roused, and (she would laugh if she weren't so concerned and still suspicious) gave her an attempt at his usual, charming smile which, she thought wryly to herself, was hardly as effective when he was lying on her doorstep in an ungraceful heap.
"Hey yourself, girlie," came the response, weak but ever lighthearted. She opened her mouth to retort, but -
He shifted a little towards her, nudged his head against her palm. She froze.
The traveler was distantly reminded of the orange stray cat she'd befriended during her time in Liyue Harbor. She had come across the cat whilst wandering around the docks; it was a rather scraggly thing, and kept a wary distance from frequently passing fishermen and tourists. It had taken several days worth of grilled, flaky, melt-off-the-bone fish to win the cat over, and she still couldn't be sure it trusted her. She'd gotten in a few ear rubs and scratches the other day, but that encounter somehow ended with her nursing a fresh set of claw marks on her forearm.
"Wanted to see you," he murmured, the words barely audible, and she was brought back from her musings; the raw honesty in his tone startled her.
"Enough of that," Lumine said, her heart pounding. He mustered up a tiny laugh, which turned into another dry cough. From their proximity, she could even count his long lashes (she was envious). For a moment, there was a flash of that heartwrenchingly, familiar, deep ocean blue - and as soon as she'd caught a glimpse of it, his eyes had closed yet again.
The last time she'd seen that shade of blue, he'd nearly dropped a whale on her.
He coughed, again.
There was a tiny, angry, still hurting part of her that wanted to leave him lying out here. Let him deal with it on his own.
She took in a deep breath, and exhaled just as slowly. Her brother had told her she had an unbelievably soft heart.
"I don't know what you're doing here, or how you found this place," she spoke, after a pause. "But you can come in for a while." As long as you don't cause any more trouble, was left unsaid.
She tugged him to his feet; he staggered, and grasped her shoulder tightly for purchase. His grip was scalding against her shoulder. It took some effort on her part to not send the both of them toppling over. By the time they made it to her living room, she felt like she could do with a year's worth of sleep.
Her unexpected guest was now resting on the couch, layers of linens and cotton blankets piled over him, and a cold towel draped over his forehead. She needed to thank Amber for bringing these over the other day ('you gotta stay warm! it gets pretty cold up there!' she'd insisted).
As time passed, she noticed that he began to murmur under his breath, eyebrows creased, turning this way and that way. It was to the point where the cold compress fell off, and she frowned. Was it a nightmare of some sort? It distressed her more than she would readily admit aloud, so she set aside the mug of honeyed tea on the table beside her, and stepped over to him.
The young woman replaced the compress on his forehead, and brushed back a few locks of his hair that were in disarray, fingers brushing against his cheek - and in an instant, his brows smoothed, his breathing evened, and he looked -
At peace.
She was really at a loss.
...
(roughly a month ago.)
"You bought what?" The Outrider proclaimed excitedly, her voice echoing through the bustling tavern. Lumine hushed her, but it was a bit too late; the tavern's avid frequenters all looked their way, curious. Even Diluc, who'd stopped by, turned towards the seated pair with a raised brow and a pointed look.
She'd been with Amber for a girl's night out - which, in the latter's perspective, had been defined as scouring Mondstadt's perimeters for any signs of danger, followed by a gliding race from the church's spire, and concluded with sparkling apple cider vinegar at the tavern. Paimon floated to her right, sipping away at her second glass of cider.
A relaxing day, the traveler decided, mid-sip. The cider was sweet (not cloyingly so) and refreshing upon the tongue. They'd been in the middle of talking about campsites and unfortunate weather, and it was at this point Lumine decided to bring up her most recent transaction.
"I bought a home," she confided to her friend, and -
Well, in retrospect, it might not have been the best idea to bring this up in such a busy area. She'd never been much for public attention; no, that was more the strong suit of her sibling. But slowly, the interest of the tavern's customers ebbed away, and Amber looked around before leaning in, voice hushed and eyes glimmering.
"Where? Do you need help moving in? Can I visit?" Lumine couldn't help the small smile, and opened her mouth to respond that yes, of course you could -
"I would love to stop by, too!" A breezy, mirthful voice, piped up from behind her. She whirled around - it was Venti, in one hand balancing a glass of something very colorful and most likely alcoholic, and in the other his trusty lyre. Where did he show up from?
"So," another voice commented, languidly. "Where is your new home located?" Kaeya approached their table, and beside him, a curious Jean. Both had bright, expectant looks. Diluc was at the bar's counter, his back turned - but she noticed his head tilted slightly towards their conversation.
"It's in Qingce Village," she told them, and they all blinked.
"Where - "
"How did you find- "
"Isn't that in Liyue?"
"I'll stop by tomorrow - "
"Paimon thinks you all should ask one at a time!"
...
(in present time.)
It had been more than a day since the Harbinger had unexpectedly shown up on her doorstep; she'd spent that time (unwillingly, she told herself) watching over him like a mother hen - replacing towels, propping up his head to encourage him to drink some water - and with some time, his condition began to improve. The fever had receded, and he no longer slept fitfully.
At present, she was at the village market, purchasing ingredients for porridge - a whole chicken, wild herbs, carrots, onions, turnips, rice. It was a familiar recipe to her, one she'd made for her brother and travel companions on the rare occasion they caught ill.
"A handsome young man was asking around for you earlier, dear," One of the local shopkeepers said, as Lumine perused the selection of vegetables. This shopkeeper was a pleasant, grandmotherly sort of figure (and often gave her homemade stews with the insistence that she needed more fat on her bones), eyes sparkling with a humor that Lumine wondered about. "Very charming, that one. Though he didn't look all that well. I assumed he was a friend of yours. Were you able to meet him?"
"I - yes, I was." Were they friends? She could hardly define their relationship.
The storekeeper gave her another knowing smile, to which the traveler responded with a cough. And that was the end of that conversation.
When Lumine finally returned with ingredients in tow, the sun had set; it had taken longer than she had planned, due to an unforeseen encounter with a band of aggressive hilichurls that had taken residence near the village. And so she raised a hand to unlatch the door - but it creaked open before she could even reach out, and she found herself standing before him.
He looked...
"You look well," she told him. Relieved. And then, cautious. He appeared as if he'd never fallen ill in the first place.
"What can I say? I recover quick," his tone was light, friendly. His hands were hanging loosely by his sides, his posture relaxed. But in contrast, there was a strange scrutiny as to which he regarded her; the blue of his gaze more searching and fathomless than she remembered, as he drank her presence in.
She somehow had the nagging feeling she was in over her head.
The traveler strode past him into the kitchen, and he trailed behind her, watching her deposit the hefty bag of ingredients on the countertop. There was, she distantly noted, a stack of neatly folded blankets on the couch, and the mug of honeyed tea she'd set aside for him was empty and washed. She turned to glance at him. He could have left when he'd recovered, without another word to her. But against all odds, he was still standing before her, looking somewhat out of place amongst the cozy furnishings (in part courtesy of Lisa) she'd put together in the kitchen. It wasn't often he looked uncomfortable, she decided, watching him shift from one leg to the other as he looked around.
"I can help with those," Childe said, gesturing to the newly bought produce, and there was a lingering question in his offer.
"There's a bowl in the cabinet, on the right. Vegetable knife's on the shelf, over there. If you want to cut up the carrots," she said, looking away - he wouldn't stop staring at her with that soft expression and she didn't know what to make of it. "I was going to make chicken porridge." For you, was left unsaid.
The traveler snuck a peek at him, quickly - and was met with a answering smile, fleeting in nature, hesitant and appreciative, and so very unlike him.
She really was in over her head.
...
"It's a nice place you've got here, girlie." Childe placed the roughly chopped herbs on the counter, next to the bowl of diced carrots. "Wouldn't have expected you of all people to buy a home." He started to peel a potato.
"I wanted a place to rest," she said, simply. She'd traveled countless worlds, camped under so many different skies and stars - but even for her, sometimes her heart and body ached for a comfy bed, under a roof she could call her own. "Even I get tired sometimes."
And maybe somewhat homesick, she added to herself.
"When I landed in Teyvat," she continued, stirring the porridge, "It was the first time I was by myself. Well, I suppose you already somehow know I'm looking for my older brother." She didn't know why she was telling him this, not when she still felt wary of him. Maybe it was the comforting nature of her surroundings, lulling her into a false sense of security. She added the carrots into the pot; they'd been diced neatly.
There was a small upward turn of his lips, but he said nothing, instead choosing to peel away.
"Anyways, my brother was always the more outgoing and talkative one. So it took some time for me to get used to doing things completely on my own. Needless to say I felt like a fish out of water here, at least for the first few months." She laughed at this, then sobered. "It's not really the same, traveling on your own - oh, but I'm glad I met Paimon. Don't think I could have made it this far without her."
There was a contemplative look on his face as he regarded her.
"You know," Childe spoke up. "I'm kind of an older brother, too."
"Really? You?" The disbelief in her tone was hard to hide, along with the surprise that he was actually talking about himself. She nearly coughed mid-sip on sampling the porridge, and burned her tongue.
He looked amused.
"Yes, me. I've got a few siblings. And no, we actually all get along very well, thank you."
"As an older brother, speaking for another," he continued. "I think he'd be proud of how far you're getting on your own."
There was a comfortable silence then, layered with the crackling of the stove's flames, and the simmering of the porridge.
...
"This is delicious." His voice was impressed, after a single spoonful of rice and chicken. "I suppose I should expect nothing less from the Honorary Knight of Mondstadt. You sure you don't want to just quit adventuring and open a restaurant?"
"Don't exaggerate. Just eat," Lumine told him, and that led to laughter.
It was still hard to wrap her mind around the fact that the young man who she'd nearly fought to the death with, only a few months ago, was now sharing conversation and a meal with her, in her home. Her muscles still ached upon the memory - their fight had nearly took everything she'd had. She still recalled the cold fury in his tone, the challenge in his eyes as he swung his blade towards her.
She glanced at the same individual in question, who was, at present, delightedly putting away spoonful after spoonful of porridge as if he hadn't eaten for weeks. It was hard to tell which of these was a more genuine reflection of him.
And - there was the question they'd both been dancing around.
She steeled herself, then spoke up. "So," she said, and Childe looked up at her from his bowl of porridge; he'd nearly finished it. "Why - how did you even manage to find me here?"
"I'm not allowed to visit my favorite traveler?" He inquired. She narrowed her eyes at him.
"You were out cold on my doorstep. Unless, of course, you'd also planned that?"
The Harbinger had the grace to look sheepish at the reminder, and he looked away, running a hand through his messy hair.
"No, I really did feel sick. Maybe I ate something strange," he mused. Ironic, the traveler thought to herself, that he leapt uncaringly into battles time and time again, and what finally did him in this time was food poisoning.
"As for how I found you, a little bird told me in passing that you'd bought a home in Qingce Village, and I wanted to see for myself."
"Meaning the Fatui are keeping tabs on me," was how she interpreted it. That figured. She couldn't even take a breath without someone in their network hearing about it.
"Actually," he said, and looked relieved for it, "I overheard your little flying friend just the other day, in Liyue Harbor. She was talking to the merchant about looking for some new recipes with a friend of yours, and happened to mention your whereabouts. Figured I'd drop by and say hi." He stood up, turning around with bowl in hand, seemingly to get to the kitchen.
"Awfully optimistic of you," she couldn't stop herself from commenting, feeling emboldened. "considering the last time we'd met, you were pretty eager to put a sword to my throat. You didn't think I would do that to you when you showed up?"
Childe stilled, back still facing her. And then he turned around, and there was a nearly apologetic, knowing smile that did not make it to his eyes.
"Of course not," he said. "It's you, after all."
...
The traveler heard Paimon, before seeing her.
"What are you doing here?" The accusatory tone echoed in the front hallway, and then there was the responding laugh of her guest.
"Visiting my favorite pair of troublemakers, of course," she heard him say in response. "I'm actually on my way out - you know, I'm very busy. Schemes to plan, people to fight."
Lumine could imagine her friend bristling.
"Oh, wait a moment - I almost forgot to give this to her." And (she could still hear Paimon reprimanding him) he strode back into the living room where she'd been sitting on the couch, trying and failing to read the second chapter of The Pale Princess and the Six Pygmies for the past half hour, when he'd insisted on cleaning up and washing dishes in her stead.
She glanced up from the worn book - he was standing before her, rummaging through a pocket. At last, his expression brightened.
"Here," His tone was eager. "This is why I wanted to find you." He then tugged her hand into his own, and placed something in her palm. His fingertips were warm, even through his gloves. And she felt a familiar weight of a glimmering crystal, a concentrated form of the Anemo winds and sky, flickering like the gentle pulse of a heart.
A Memory of Roving Gales.
"Would you know, I saw this at the market the other day, and thought of you. The next time we meet, we should fight." Childe's voice was confident (it might have just been her imagination, but there was a trace of that same chill in his tone when they'd last crossed swords). "I've been getting stronger, so you should do the same."
He paused for a moment - and then knelt down so they were at eye level, leaning forward. She froze at their proximity; there was a hinted scent of rainwater that enveloped her as he neared.
He pressed his forehead against her own, eyes fluttering shut.
"Thank you, Lumine."
His tone was softer now, the words whispered like a grateful promise.
The young man stepped back, and not a moment too soon, as Paimon flew into the room, protectively hovering in front of the traveler. "You're leaving now. Stop bugging her," her friend insisted.
"Alright, I'm going." He grinned; there was a new gleam in his eyes and a pinkish hue in his cheeks.
"See you," the traveler managed.
Her hands tightened around the warm crystal, keeping it close to her heart.