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“Well then, Windblume Star, have you decided on your offering to Lord Barbatos?” Acting Grand Master Jean asked, smiling genially as if she wasn’t putting Aether on the spot in front of the entirety of Mondstadt.
He looked up at the Anemo archon’s statue, decorated in countless colorful flowers, and handcrafted gifts. He had been so busy running around doing errands and helping others that he hadn’t really had time to consider. Everyone seemed to have a different opinion on what a Windblume was, which made things even more difficult.
So he did the next best thing he could think about. He turned to the statue’s likeness, the green-clad bard standing by his side.
“What would you like?” He asked, simple and to the point. His voice was quiet, barely a whisper lost in the bustle of the city, but it reached the god just fine.
Venti tilted his head, a coy smile on his lips. “Aren’t we sneaky? I’m afraid that I cannot give you an answer, as that would be cheating. Pick your Windblume, oh little star.”
“I’m older than you and that’s lame,” He scrunched up his nose, a blush dusting his cheeks anyway. Venti giggled even as Jean scolded them for ‘revealing their identities without a care in the world’. Aether sighed to himself, before stepping up to the statue.
He rummaged through his trustworthy bag, thinking about the many, many offerings the other citizens had thought of, the meaning behind each gift, and behind each gesture, and made his decision.
He pulled out a Cecilia, slightly bruised from being kept in a bag for so long, but still whole, and gently deposited it at the offering basin.
It looked puny, a single plucked flower in a sea of colorful roses, dandelions and windwheels, but Aether was smiling as he stepped back.
Venti looked just as proud as he nodded to himself, “An interesting choice, so-?”
He cut himself off as Aether offered a second Cecilia to him, not quite meeting his eyes.
“This is…?”
“I just thought it would be nice to give one to you too.” Aether valiantly ignored the crowd around them, obliviously cheering them on, while Jean and Paimon both kept a watchful eye on them. “And well, the flowers look better on you anyway.”
“Oh,” The bard with the vibrant eyes said, his cheeks painted like delicate rose petals as he accepted the offering. He opened his mouth several times, as if he were at a loss for words. Then he just bit his lip. “Hey, why don’t we go somewhere quieter? I know just the place!”
“Sure,” Aether said immediately, also valiantly trying to ignore the catcalls of the nosy citizens around them. Maybe they should have had this conversation in a different place to begin with. The traveler cleared his throat, making a decision on the spot. “Fine by me but… do you mind if I meet you there?”
Venti arched a curious eyebrow but shrugged anyway, verdant eyes glimmering with mischief. “Alright, good luck finding me then!”
And like a playful breeze, he took off, jumping over flowering pots, and ducking under elegant wreaths, and disappearing in the blink of an eye.
“Hey, so, where are you even going to meet?” Paimon flew over to him to ask, wholly unimpressed by her companion. “Don’t tell me you’re going to spend the rest of the festival just playing hide and seek?”
“I have a clue where he might be,” Aether replied, as they walked over to the Good Hunter, away from giggling citizens. “And if I can’t find him, I’ll just ask the wind.”
“Har-har, very funny,” The little spren said, arms crossed. “Why did you even let him go alone? He’s a danger to himself and you, mister, are so smitten you are embarrassing to look at.”
“You’re exaggerating,” Aether rolled his eyes, even as he raised his hands to his cheeks, feeling them warm to the touch. “Is it really that obvious?”
Paimon just sighed.
“Do you want my help?” She asked in the end as Aether placed his special request at the restaurant. “I’d leave afterwards of course, but…”
Aether shook his head. “It’s okay, I know Barbara has been looking forward to hanging out with you. And I am not so helpless, little one.”
She giggled when he ruffled her hair, and trailed after him as they waited for their order. The little spren teased him some more, but when her honey roast finally arrived, she mercifully disappeared in a shower of stardust without further comment.
Aether grabbed his own things, hurrying to pack the bottle in its frosty wrapping before the waitress could think about stopping him.
With a spring to his step, the outlander shouldered his bags and finally set off to find his wind.
“You’re late, traveler,” Were Venti’s opening words as Aether hauled himself up the small alcove the god had perched himself on. “Did you get lost, perchance?”
“What little faith you have in me,” Aether rolled his eyes as he gingerly sat down by his side, their legs dangling over the edge. Before them, the ruins of a great city greeted them, echoes of a different era. “Is Dvalin around?”
“He should come by later, must be out flying,” Venti hummed as he turned to him, impatience in every gesture. In his hands he had the Cecilia he had been given earlier, even if it now looked as pristine as the evergreen behind his ear. “So? Why did you pick this flower?”
“What do you think?” Aether shot back, staring as the other god cradled the flower close to his chest, his lips pulled up in a soft smile. “As vain as you are, surely you must have a guess or two.”
“Is it truly vanity if it’s just acknowledging my own capabilities?” Venti sighed as if this was a true conundrum, giggling when the other just rolled his eyes at him. “I do, but I want to hear it from you.”
“It’s simple,” Aether replied, leaning back on his hands and facing the fallen Mondstadt once more. “They remind me of you. They’re not fragile like the asters, or common like the dandelions. They flourish in the harshest of winds, and they are almost as beautiful as the bard that wears them as a crown.”
“Makes me wonder who the true bard between us is.” Venti looked down at his flower again, before leaning over to his friend and carefully placing it behind his ear.
Aether looked at him quizzically.
“I knew it,” The bard whispered, voice carrying fondness like a warm summer breeze. “They suit you too.”
(Just like the rose-colored hue that blossomed on Aether’s cheeks, golden eyes skirting away from him just briefly.)
A comfortable silence stretched between them, as Aether leaned against him, facing the destroyed landscape so Venti wouldn’t keep staring at him.
The Anemo archon considered teasing him some more, to see the delicate pink burn red like a rose. But as the shadows stretched over the battlefield of old, he decided that could wait for another day, another time.
“Ah,” Said Venti softly, barely a whisper above the air currents beyond. “Some wine would be fantastic right about now.”
“What would your people think if they ever learned their archon was such an alcoholic,” Aether sighed dramatically, laughing when this earned him a playful shove. “Hey, don’t throw me off, I might die.”
“As if I’d let you,” Venti huffed, but still pulled him closer, a hand around his waist as Aether straightened to rummage through his bag. Venti laughed. “What have you hoarded this time, dear traveler?”
“Shut up,” Aether mumbled absently as he pulled out a very recognizable bottle, still cold to the touch, thanks to the alchemical wrapping around it. “Brought you a gift.”
“Alcohol!” Venti exclaimed gleefully as he snatched it with his free hand. He raised the bottle to his face, sniffed it, “Ooohh, you got the special windblume wine!”
“I hope you enjoy it, it was a pain getting it past Rosaria once she noticed what I bought. I swear not even the waitress was that fast.”
Venti giggled as he uncorked it with a burst of anemo and took a swig directly from the bottle. “The curse of immortality and eternal youth!”
“Oh truly,” Aether rolled his eyes again, even as he continued looking through his bag. “Also got some cookies as a gift, if you’d like to eat something.”
“Oh they’re cute, who gave them to you?” They exchanged the wine for the cookies, Aether drinking from the bottle as well, while his friend giggled at the flower shaped pastries.
“Noelle was helping someone bake a Windblume gift, and they were having trouble with their oven. I just happened to be passing by.”
“Did you seriously fix their oven?”
“What did you want me to do? Ignore their puppy eyes?”
The wind picked up, caressing their hair, their clothes as Venti laughed, and bit into the cookies. “Of course you would know how to do that.”
“Hey, why do you sound so surprised?”
“You don’t strike me as the domestic kind.”
Aether paused, his hand not holding the bottle going down to the sword strapped to his hip. There was something tired in the slant of his smile. “I suppose I’m not.”
“Aether,” The god whispered next, crowding close, so close, his face inches from his own. It successfully erased any thought he might have had, as he stared into teal eyes, brimming with power and warm with affection. “You are so many things, are you not simply amazing?”
“Of course I am,” Aether said in lieu of a real reply, as his cheeks were set aflame. “I-I mean, I’ve done a few things while on my multiple journeys...”
The god of freedom hummed as response, not bothering in moving away, just staring at him, eyelids lowered, as his eyes shamelessly slid down to his lips.
“…So tell me, traveler, have you ever kissed a god?”
They were so close, Aether realized, so close that he could count every single eyelash on him, felt himself grow warm and dizzy, hyperfocused on teal eyes and glistening lips like dew-ladden petals at dawn.
“I don’t know,” Aether whispered back as he leaned in closer, watching those vibrant eyes flutter close, “Have I?”
He closed the distance between them, as Venti giggled softly, their teeth clacking together and making them laugh again.
Aether brushed his hair back, cupping his cheek, and tilting his head to deepen the kiss, while his god’s hands wrapped around his waist, nimble fingers pressed against his exposed skin.
Venti was soft, sweet and demanding all in one. He was not shy as he softly grazed his lips with his teeth, with his tongue. He tasted like cookies, like cliffside flowers and the air of dawn. He tasted of sweet dreams, and a summer breeze as he stole all the air in Aether’s lungs.
“Venti,” the traveler breathed into his mouth, a plea, a prayer. “My god of wine and dandelions.”
“Yes, my dear traveler?” He replied as they separated barely enough to let Aether breathe. Venti raised one hand to pet his hair, running his fingers through golden tresses, careful not to dislodge the flower mirroring his own. “What do you need?”
“You accepted my Windblume, my god.” He spoke softly, relishing in the way those anemo-colored eyes brightened at the name, at the adoration in his voice. “Would it be terribly improper if I asked for one in return?”
Venti was curious even as he laughed, “It would make me a very impolite lover if I refused you, wouldn’t you say? Besides, even the traveling gods deserve their share of the worship.”
Aether smiled and cupped his cheeks. “Lover, huh? Do I really have such an honor?” He chuckled when it made Venti’s braids shine brighter, matching the dusting of pink on his cheeks. “You say anything can be a Windblume… So how about gods?”
“My, aren’t you a greedy little thing?” The god of freedom laughed, a hand raising to hold his. “The church would be outraged if they knew.”
“Would they not be more offended I dare sully your pristine lips?”
“You are insufferable,” He huffed. “But don’t you think this is a little unfair? You already have me, is it really a gift?”
Aether was silent, as if he really had never considered such a thing. It made Venti want to laugh and cry and kiss every inch of his body, in pious devotion.
Instead he just closed his eyes, letting his own power consume him.
Translucent feathers, and teal-colored hues enveloped them both and in the blink of an eye, Venti the bard was gone.
In Aether’s hands, however, a little wind sprite looked at him, too big eyes nearly hidden under his little white cloak. Nearly swallowed under the evergreen Cecilia he loved to wear behind his ear.
The traveling god gingerly raised his cupped hands to his face, oh so carefully.
“You’re so tiny,” He breathed, something childish and gleeful in the curve of his lips, in the softness of his dimples. “Venti, I… You’re so tiny.”
The little sprite sat back in his hands, smiling up at him without a mouth. “Pocket-sized god for your convenience!”
“This is how you looked like before?” Aether said, softly easing both his godling and the flower to one hand so he could use a finger to caress a tiny cheek. “You’re adorable.”
“You really think so?” The little god said, his laughter like little bells chiming in the air. “Am I really the most adorable god you have ever met?”
Aether’s lips quirked up, but there was not a hint of tease as he replied, “Yes. And the cutest, and the most benevolent and selfless too.”
Venti preened, his chest puffed out, and his wings fluttered creating a soft breeze that curled around them both.
Aether sighed, his breath stuttering in his chest, “Oh stars above, this is dangerous.”
“How so?”
“Seeing you like this, makes me want to take you away. My own little pocket-sized god, to accompany me on my journey.”
“Would you want me to?” He asked, his voice like a forgotten bell singing in an empty hall. It made Aether’s heart hurt, and his breath catch.
“Yes,” He said simply as he lowered him to his lap. “I would be honored to have you with me. But I will not make you. You are a god that has a place to return to, how could I ask you to leave?”
“Then stay,” Venti whispered, a prayer and a wish, as futile as a breeze melting ice. “Find your sister and come back to me, Aether.”
“There is no place for me in this world, Venti.” The other god said, voice soft.
“That’s not a no,” Venti pointed out, shimmering into yet another form– with pristine robes and a pair of white wings unfurling at his back, crowned with spikes of gold. “And you will always have a place in my heart, in my lands. Traveler who caught the wind, will you not let the wind catch you in turn?”
“What would you do to me, if you caught me?” Aether mumbled, closing his eyes as Venti cupped his cheeks, his wings closing around them, hiding them from outside eyes.
“Protect you,” Venti kissed his forehead gently, slowly. “Console you.”
He kissed the corners of that sad smile, before looking into his eyes.
“I would kiss you until you were drunk with love.” He breathed as their lips met.
Aether laughed softly into his mouth, “Is that so? Truly a god of drunkards…”
“Will you let me?” Venti wondered, softly brushing tear-stained eyes.
Aether looked resigned, a little crease on his brow, a tension to his lips, as he pulled away. “We are gods, little one. You say that now, but when I regain my power, when you have two gods in your territory, you may be singing a different song.”
“You are not just a god,” Venti said softly, wondering who could have dared hurt him so. He gave the other space, but did not let him go, did not let him pull away from the safety of his wings. “You are the traveler from the stars, adored by the wind and the sky. You who worship a god not your own, who made a place for me in your heart. You are my Windblume, my star, how could I ever dream of kicking you out?”
“Careful with your words, little poet,” And his voice cracked, like an old sword under relentless strikes. “Or you may never get rid of me.”
“I’m counting on that, actually.” Venti whispered as he drew him closer for a hug, letting Aether drop his head to his shoulder, even if that meant not being able to stare into his beautiful eyes. “Heh, maybe I should make a temple just for you. Make people worship you, offer you gifts and prayers… They already ask so much of you, it would only be fair.”
“You are so embarrassing,” Aether mumbled against his skin, as the other laughed again. “Please don’t do that.”
“Alright, alright, but only because I want to be the one to murmur devotion into your ears, sweet little prayers meant only for you.”
“Can you? Is this god of vanity even able to pray at another’s altar?”
This time, the bard god did not rise to the taunt. He just gently threaded a hand through his hair, as he found his words. “To the stars I would pray, to be with you one more day. To the moon I would sing, so your dreams would be gentle like spring. And to the sun, I would express my remorse, for I want none other than you as my light source.”
“Dork,” Aether breathed out, raising his head until their foreheads met. “My sweet little poet, my Windblume.”
“Yours,” Venti whispered, like the sweetest secret. “Yours, all yours.”
“Venti.”
“Hmm?”
“I’ll come back. To you. For you.”
“Do you promise?"
"On my name, on the stars above and the flowers below, I promise I will return to your side."