Work Text:
(1)
Every day has been the same. Not that Venti is complaining — It is quite enjoyable to spend time in aimless activities. Today, it seems, will be no different. He half-plans his days, mostly repeating the same old routine roaming around Mondstadt and occasionally playing songs to his people. He is one of the most desired bards in the entire nation, after all.
Which reminds him — He should probably get up from the hands of his own statue and pay a visit to Angel’s Share. It just occurred to him that a certain redhead might be working tonight, which meant he could (maybe) bribe some free drinks out of him.
Venti gets on his feet before he knows it and as he makes his way to the bottom by gracefully jumping off - utilizing some of his wind powers - he spots a familiar figure among the Mondstadtian people.
Among the sea of people stands a tall man with black hair pulled in a long ponytail, fading into a glowing amber brown at the tips.
Venti’s mouth twitches in complete and utter disbelief.
“Morax?”
It’s Rex Lapis’ human vessel. What an unsuspected turn of events.
Venti shudders for a moment. What exactly is that old block-head doing here…?
As far as Venti knows, he has done nothing of such outrageous nature that the Geo archon himself would personally have to pay him a visit. And as much as he’d like to welcome an old friend of his into his beloved nation — The short notice, more like a lack thereof, made it rather hard.
They have not seen each other in, what, a few hundred years? Compared to Venti’s quite lenient idea of leading a nation, Morax leadership could be seen as the exact opposite. He is much busier than him and there were no occasions to meet up. Nonetheless, the Lord of Contracts himself, who rules over Liyue fostering its prosperity and stability, is now here. In Mondstadt.
That train of thought ends as quickly as it begun. Well, no matter. Venti doesn’t even know why he’s brooding so much over this simple matter. He should probably greet him since Morax is most likely looking for him — because who else would he be here for?
He is suddenly jolted back to the present when he realizes that Morax almost moved out of his vision. Thankfully, Venti saw him turn around the corner and follows his steps.
What he did not expect was Morax entering Angel’s Share.
Utterly bewildered, Venti stares at the familiar outline of the building. Maybe he just wishes to have a drink…? Venti isn’t one to judge — His nation’s wine industry is known across all of Teyvat and archons, too, must take rests from time to time. However, it does seem a little funny to him that Morax would march all the way to Mondstadt to… drink.
Upon entering the bar, the Anemo archon is greeted with idle chatter, ringing loud and clear in his ears. It is a rambunctious night and his people are having fun, an inexplicable feeling of freedom in the air.
Oh, and Diluc is here as well. As always, he’s standing behind the bar, mixing drinks in a well-mannered poise. Venti should get some more extra wine while he’s here. The thought alone has Venti jittery with excitement and he’s already thinking of a way to persuade the redhead.
However, said redhead notices him and his expression shifts to something incomprehensible — He seems… flustered? Venti greets him, a smile hanging from his lips. Diluc replies with hardly any voice, a quiet “welcome” leaves his mouth and Venti almost doesn’t hear him. Their curt exchange ends here as someone approaches Diluc to order a drink.
He remembers his original objective and searches for a glimpse of his old friend and quickly finds him at a table close to the wall. Venti meets his eyes across the short distance.
Ah.
“Mora-”
He is cut short by Morax’ haunting glare, reminding him that he’s not supposed to just, carelessly, yell the Geo archon’s name in public for everyone to hear. He stills under the weight of his stare. Whoops.
At least there was no doubt that this is indeed Morax.
He swallows, then approaches the table. What a reunion.
“Hello stranger,” Venti slurs happily, grinning in delight as he plops into the seat next to the Geo archon. He is met with a displeased Morax, scrunching his nose at him. He gives him an impatient glance. “Good evening, Barbatos.”
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”
Venti straightens in his seat and laughs. His gaze lingers across the table and settles on the flowery decor. He doesn’t remember the last time he was hit with such a wave of nostalgia. Feelings that had been long since buried are resurfacing — he remembers those joyful days when the original Seven gathered to celebrate together. He wonders if the other feels the same.
He lifts his gaze and... Morax isn’t even looking at him. Or anywhere near his direction. He’s staring at the bar.
“Oi,” the bard deadpans. “Aren’t you going to respond to me?” This brutish blundering buffoon. Does he need a drink that badly?
Morax turns to him and he has the audacity to scoff. Venti stares at him incredulously.
“Indeed, it has,” the Geo Lord sighs, however, he recognizes the fond undertone in his voice, “How have you been, Barbatos?”
Oh.
Venti blinks at the sudden question. Then his eyes light up. “Well,” he says slowly, “Good! Even so, I am quite surprised at you being here. Surely, you’re not only visiting my beloved city solely to have a small drink? Pray tell me.”
Morax simply bursts into a short hearty laugh.
The both of them spend quite a while chatting away. Even after all this time, not much seems to have changed. (Except some trivial things — and the fact, that the geo lord goes by the name of “Zhongli” now. Trivial things.)
Nonetheless, Zhongli’s fleeting glances towards the bar don’t go unnoticed. Venti wonders.
The Geo God insists on remaining at the bar after the Anemo God vanishes into the night.
(2)
Right outside the city of Mondstadt, sounds of wildlife and rustling leaves are paired with light footsteps and the jingling of keychains. It does not take much skill for Klee to sneak out of the city — yet, she feels the rise of guilt stirring, stomach churning. Carrying Hash Browns in her arms, she marches ahead like there’s a mission to succeed in.
She really hopes she does not run into Mr Kaeya. Or even worse… Master Jean. There shouldn’t be anything to worry about, though. Hopefully. The both of them have been holed up in their offices for the past few days now.
Despite it all, Klee still wonders how she always gets herself into these unfavorable situations - once more, on the run from a knight sent by Master Jean. She really does not believe she deserves to be put in solitary confinement. Again.
“Ah… It’s only been one day,” she huffs in exasperation, “Klee wants to collect berries with Razor again…”
She really really hasn’t been particularly bad. For a fact, she knows she was solely fulfilling her duties as the Spark Knight, keeping the bad guys from everybody. No one was really hurt either.
But she won’t defy Mr Kaeya or Master Jean — she will be returning swiftly! She simply needs to bring these Hash Browns to Razor. Unthinkingly and brimming with new-found energy, she dashes off to the depths of Wolvendom in hopes of finding her beloved friend.
She will come back, eventually.
“Who is that…”
Klee feels a tug of apprehension in her stomach when stumbling upon a man she had never seen before. He looks different from any adult she has ever encountered in Mond.
Heedlessly, she approaches him. “Hello?”
The man turns on his heels to face her — Klee remarks his stern face and stiff body posture, and carefully takes a step back. She remembers the times Mr Kaeya thoroughly lectured her about the dangers of strangers - and grimaces. Ah. Ultimately, this might not be the best situation to be in, she realizes.
She feels her heartbeat spike when he returns a short and polite Hello.
The Spark Knight’s mouth parts with surprise, depicting a perfect 'o' — he spoke! Her lips turn upwards, into a joyful smile, cheeks dimpling around them. She peers up at him, eyes all wide and innocent.
The man smiles sweetly at her (at least, he tries to) as he seemingly ponders.
“Do you know where I might find some small lamp grass?”
Oh!
“Yes!”
He stares at her, eyes bright with something indescribable. Klee notices the tips of his hair — theyre glowing orange!
Klee proudly nods to herself, of course, she knows. She is the Spark Knight, after all. “They should be around he-”
She stills. Her bombs destroyed the flowers this morning.
(3)
Kaeya shakes his head in resignation and leans back in his chair. He really does not feel like being holed up in his office anymore. He takes a second to stare at the dull pile of paperwork, stacked on top of each other and he sighs. There is no end in sight.
He wonders how he finds the strength to file reports day after day. It seems to be his only activity lately. He’d much rather wander around the city and take in the beautiful sight than whatever this is. He desperately needs a break.
He gently blows on his cup of tea before taking a sip. Ah, this won’t do. I need some alcohol.
Surely Jean will forgive him if he decides to take a stroll around her beloved city. (And possibly ends up at Angel’s Share.) Because even the respectable knights of Favonius need to rest sometimes.
Kaeya frowns. He is convinced Jean has been overworking herself even more than usual lately — Staying at the headquarters, night after night. She should take his advice sometimes — he makes a mental reminder to keep an eye on her and ensure she takes a fresh breath of air, for her own sake.
Right now, however, he needs to get out himself. He sets off and heads out of the office that has left him on the brink of suffocation.
Kaeya briefly comes to a halt when he arrives in the heart of the city — an impressive amount of people are milling about the town’s square. Idle chatter and breezy laughs are heard all across the area; Mond’s townsfolk are prattling on about anything and everything while drinking, and the day has barely reached nightfall.
Good old Mondstadt.
For a while, Kaeya marches through the crowd, throwing short greetings at the townsfolk who recognize him as the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius. In the end he edges away from the crowd, he’s solely out to get a drink, after all.
Then, a man catches his attention. He is standing in front of the makeshift flower shop of Mondstadt, exchanging words with the florist. He can’t really make out their words due to the great distance, but he is faced with intrigue.
He has never seen this man before and for some reason, he looks out of place -- more so, his attire does not resemble Mondstadtian fashion in any aspect. The man is wearing a long dark coat, adorned with tassels and a massive diamond symbol on his back. He sure looks like he has some mora on him.
Kaeya narrows his eyes suspiciously. He wouldn’t be surprised if this man turned out to be a spy from a neighbouring nation. It takes one to know one.
He shakes his head and quietly laughs to himself. “I am probably just overthinking,” and he lets out a sigh, “All the paperwork is driving me mad.”
He is eager to find out more about the stranger.
A minute later, he finds himself next to the man he had been observing. The florist, has turned her attention to another woman — they stand on the side walk behind the flowershop, gushing about someone. Kaeya appears to hear his brother’s name and he grimaces. Dear Barbatos.
He directs his own attention elsewhere and he eyes the various flowers presented in pots, lining up next to each other. Those are well kept flowers, perfectly watered. Especially the small lamp grass — their true colors coming to light now that nightfall has arrived. Furthermore, they’re probably the plants the peculiar man is looking for as he’s been inspecting them for quite a while now.
The man in question seems to have noticed his presence (It would have surprised Kaeya if not. They’re standing right next to each other, after all.) Still, their gazes don’t meet. The both of them stand in silence, solely acknowledging each other’s existence.
At last, having enough of this game of patience, Kaeya tries to initiate an exchange. “So,” he tries to choose his words carefully, “I have never seen you in Mondstadt before. Pray tell, what is a man like you doing here?”
The man turns to him and Kaeya’s breath hitches. A pair of bright amber eyes stare directly at him. Under that intense gaze, Kaeya’s feet feel like they’re locked in place.
“I am here,” and he adds a suspicious pause, “to pay a visit to someone.”
There was really nothing surprising about that statement, he pretty much came to that conclusion by himself. Nonetheless, new-found curiosity swells in Kaeya’s chest and he dares to ask him further. “Are you, perhaps, planning on buying flowers for them? What a lucky person!”
The man blinks uncomprehendingly, most likely startled at the unexpected questioning.
There is a fleeting moment of silence, punctuated by the faint chatter between the florist and the bystander. Kaeya observes the man put his hand on his chin, debating whether or not to answer.
He ends up giving him a faint hum. “Indeed, I am,” he replies, “Well. It is what I was planning on doing.”
Kaeya doesn’t understand. So he can’t buy them?
“Am I keeping you from buying them?”
“No. It appears I forgot to bring my mora.”
What?
Kaeya scoffs.
It turns into a helpless laughter.
He tells him about the Whispering Woods and the little places where he can find the glowing flowers (since he knows, Klee blew up the ones in Wolvendom).
(4)
Jean slowly opens her eyes to be greeted with paperwork littered across her desk, as if reminding her of the work she could have finished by now. She carefully sits up and rubs at her eyes while taking a deep, calming breath.
She lets her eyes unfocused, absentmindedly observing the illuminated specks of dust lingering in the air. Under the yellow morning light that shines through the windows of her office, Jean realizes — she might need a breather from her office.
As if on cue, her stomach churns with hunger.
Now that she’s been reminded… She hasn’t eaten much over the course of the week. She can’t recall the last time she’d eaten a proper meal, actually. As the Acting Grand Master of the Knights, she must be perfectly devoted to her work, be it on the unrelenting battlefield or… the piles of paperwork on her desk.
However, she’s feeling quite lightheaded — hunger making it incredibly difficult to focus. She figures, it wouldn’t hurt to step out and pay a visit to Cat’s Tail. (A knight ought to be resourceful with their food but that doesn’t mean she can’t enjoy herself from time to time.)
Mondstadt shines with bright and brilliant sunlight, and the townsfolk are amiable as ever, greeting her upon arrival. Jean had spent so many hours hiding in her cramped office that she had completely forgotten about Mond’s inhabitants.
Yet, she has to tamp down the urge to return to the headquarters, because, it feels as if work lies within her innermost nature. It’s absurd.
None of that matters right now, though.
Jean is incredibly grateful for Cat’s Tail. Other than the fact, that their pizzas taste like heaven on earth, they also work incredibly fast. Which means, Jean can get back to her office quicker to finish all the leftover papers. Of course, it would seem much more beneficial if they delivered the food, but she understands, this will have to do now.
So when she stands before the bar and stumbles upon a stranger she’d never encountered before, she ponders vaguely. Swiftly forgetting about the food she came for, she observes the man.
He peers at the message board wordlessly as if something weighed deeply in his chest.
Furrowing his brows and looking genuinely disconcerted — she wonders what exactly he is seeing. However, Jean comes to the conclusion that this is, most likely, none of her concern and she marches into the bar.
After a satisfying meal, she bids good bye to Diona and intends to return to her office. In a small corner of her mind, howbeit, the memory of the unsettled stranger still persists. His poignant expression steadily occupies her mind.
And thus, she curiously takes a look at the message board. In the end, it is but a bulletin for people to leave a notice and nothing appears to be special about it.
Until one message catches her attention more than the rest. To her surprise, she finds a note left by her former senior, Master Diluc. Extending a hand towards the small piece of paper, she carefully examines it.
It only takes one more moment before realization hits Jean. It turns out, the message is nothing but a remorseful whisper of a memory; it tells of the redhead’s regretful sorrows regarding the passing of his late father, and the death of his old self altogether.
She feels genuine surprise at this. After all, Diluc usually keeps to himself and for him to reveal his unfeigned feelings in a way like this —
Left with an unfathomable feeling of malaise, she recollects the incidents that caused him to part ways with the knights and shame spreads through her.
Jean wishes for a brighter future where Master Diluc can see the knights in a better light. Simultaneously, she also hopes he can forgive himself for something that was never his fault to begin with.
Her heart feels heavy as she returns to the headquarters.
(+1)
Venti hasn’t had the occasion to meet up with Zhongli again after their brief exchange a few days prior. He must admit, though, their reunion felt like a fresh breath of air. The both of them never got along terribly well but — after two thousand years of acquaintance, one is bound to form some sort of comradeship.
And he knows Zhongli feels the same way. Evidently, times can never be the same again. Out of the original Seven, only Morax and Barbatos remain. The awareness of it makes its way into his mind and it’s a painful reminder but… nonetheless, one must move on.
Venti huffs and continues to make his way towards Windrise. The tree that brings long forgotten memories to the surface and, where the God of Freedom feels most at ease.
That is until he incredulously discovers two awfully familiar figures in the distance; he immediately recognizes one of them as the man that occupied his thoughts just few seconds prior with… someone else. There is only one person in Mondstadt with hair as red as this person’s —
Rex Lapis and… Diluc Ragnvindr?
Venti could not imagine any world or any iteration where he would have expected an outcome like this. It occurs to him that maybe, just maybe, Zhongli hadn’t come to Mondstadt for him, but for the redhead instead.
“Are they business partners?”, Venti mutters distractedly. Perhaps, the Geo Archon wishes to forge some sort of friendship with the owner of Dawn Winery, in order to cultivate Mondstadt and Liyue’s trade?
He shakes his head fervently. That makes no sense. Well, it actually does but — why at Windrise? He pushes all these floating thoughts away and his gaze shifts to the both of them once more.
It’s then when Venti realizes that they’re kissing.
They’re staying abnormally close to each other, Diluc’s hand remains on Morax’ cheek and they’re sharing a hushed kiss. He glares in disbelief, his mouth twitching soundlessly.
What.
Venti pushes his feet forward while expertly avoiding making any kind of sound, hurried steps coming to a halt before a fragmented stone wall. Aghast, he approaches them; the tiny distance making it possible for him to locate the flowers in Diluc’s arms.
He witnesses the pair part from each other; the slight coloring of red betrays their usual calm demeanor. They’re blushing. Venti is torn between amusement and secondhand embarrassment as he smothers his restrained laughter into the palm of his hand.
To see a blockhead such as Rex Lapis in a state like this is… something else, to say the least. And for him to be with one of his own; the owner of Mond’s infamous winery, of all people —
This will be interesting, he thinks. All the vintage wine he could get his hands on...
Even so, seeing them close like this comes as a relief. As the God of Freedom, he is delighted to see two people as uptight as them, enjoy themselves in his beloved nation.
He can’t take his eyes off them because his chest starts swelling with adoration as he notices. He understands the way the both of them share glances; the way they look at each other with such gentle fondness — as if nothing and no one else in the world mattered anymore — and he supposes it’s time to leave because a private moment like this shall only be witnessed between the two lovers.
As much as Venti tries to conceal his obvious gaiety while taking his leave, he still ends up making a noise, catching their attention.
Uh oh.
The feeling of Zhongli’s lips against his makes Diluc’s head spin. His heart feels like it caught fire, embers burning beneath his skin. All he cares about right now is Zhongli, his heart aflutter.
Heat rushes to his face, his cheeks tinted red.
It is but a gentle press of their lips together and it merely lasts a few seconds. Yet, it leaves him breathless. There was no reason for him to feel this agitated but he can’t help it. He holds the other man’s cheek in the process, his gloved fingers stroking the soft skin and he wishes — Diluc wishes he could tell him how much he adores him.
But, naturally, he can’t. Words like these seldom leave his mouth. He doesn’t think he can ever bring himself express his true feelings out of some inexplicable fear that keeps him grounded.
So instead, when they inevitably part, he gazes up and he smiles with earnest gratitude.
“Thank you for the flowers.” And everything. Thank you for being here.
A hopeful smile plays at Zhongli’s lips and he glances at him, eyes soft and fond.
Diluc looks away.
But the other isn’t one to retreat in a situation like this and he leans forward. The redhead’s vision is filled with glowing amber eyes, their noses barely touching and their lips a breath away. He stills under the weight of his piercing gaze.
“You’re welcome.”
He thinks he can feel his cheeks flood pink again and he glares at Zhongli, shoving his face away. Unbelievable.
How is he just so pretty?
The redhead shifts, bringing his attention to the flowers once more.
In his arms, a bouquet of small lamp grass and a small variety of other flowers. They seem to have been picked with meticulous care and take shape in a lovely azure blue color. However, to Diluc’s knowledge, he had never told Zhongli about his favorite flowers. So, naturally, he is curious to know where they came from.
But his words die on his lips when detects the fleeting sound of a tree branch breaking. Both their heads snap to the direction of the noise and —
“Barbatos?”
Diluc did not expect the God of Freedom himself to stand in front of them. He arises rather nervously, hand rubbing against his scalp. Venti approaches them, albeit in a hesitant manner.
“Y-Yahoo!”
It takes a moment for the dreadful realization to dawn on the redhead.
How long has he been standing there?
It reigns a deafening silence, punctuated only by the whistling wind, until it is broken by an effortless sneer.
At his side, the elder Archon graces his companion with a thin smile. As always, he isn’t hesitant to approach the other God and he nonchalantly opens his mouth once more. The curve of his lips appears noticeably darker now and Venti sees it too, eyeing them nervously.
“Barbatos, my friend,” he begins in an even voice, “what brings you here?”
“Well… I was just passing by, you see,” Venti replies with surprising composure, only hands fumbling with the ends of his frilly white top, “roaming around Mondstadt, as you’d know.”
And for a moment, Zhongli was quiet once again, solely inclining his head in acknowledgment.
“Really, I was just aimlessly wandering around the area”, he elaborates and swallows before he continues. “I did not see anything at all, like — I’m serious. I was about to leave as well. You two can continue whatever activity you had going on —”
Diluc interrupts him by clearing his throat, making sure to do so as loudly as possible.
And suddenly, despite everything, Zhongli lets out an amused laugh and it feels as carefree as never before. The redhead’s brow twitches funnily and he can do nothing but send him a glare that says, what are you laughing at.
A quick glimpse is thrown Diluc’s way before the Geo God turns to address the Anemo God again. Then, both archons share a glance just between the two of them and Diluc wonders if this is some kind of Archon Telepathy because Venti chuckles and gives the pair a doting smile.
“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”
And he vanishes too fast for the bare eye to see — just as swiftly as the wind blows.
Diluc wonders vaguely what the hell that was about but he doesn’t have enough time to ponder before Zhongli returns to his side and leans in for another kiss, his hand lifting to snake around the small of his back.
Needless to say, Diluc gives in, as flustered as he is.