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“I have it on excellent authority that you do, in fact, watch the Lantern Rite festival every year,” Keqing had said, her smile catlike in the way that Xiao had come to learn meant that she was not going to be easily countered. She had compiled her evidence, searched for evidence to the contrary that might disprove her, and built a solid case against him.
It still didn’t stop him from wondering just who her ‘excellent authority’ was—though the resources of the Qixing ran deep.
Honestly, it was probably Ganyu.
“I have no intention of going into the city to watch the lanterns. I do not… mingle with human crowds,” Xiao answered, brows creasing as he did his absolute best to not look to the Yuheng’s pretty smile, or the way she pursed those lips when she was about to plead for something—though neither of them would ever call it ‘pleading,’ given Keqing’s penchant for getting what she wanted without being petulant about it.
“I’m not asking you to come into the city for it. Just… to let me watch it with you, this time,” she countered, and after a moment of thought, she pursed her lips. “And you mingle with me.”
Xiao paused, averting his gaze. “You are not ‘crowds.’ As far as Lantern Rite—“ He was interrupted only by the fact that he knew that he had been about to brush it off, whether by suggesting that he wasn’t going to watch it or by changing the subject, and... Neither was going to work on Keqing. Instead, he sighed under his breath in near-silence, the tension bleeding from his shoulders in the way it only ever did when he was cutting his losses, and surrendering to fate’s designs for him. It just so happened that so much of his fate lately had been so deeply entwined with hers.
He spared one look back to the determination in the pretty diamonds of her eyes, and his gaze dropped entirely. Her hand was never far away from his own in these small, quiet visits—and he took advantage of that to wrap his fingers around her own, pulling her close enough that he could scoop her up with an arm under her knees and another under her shoulders.
Though she liked to think that she should have gotten used to it by now, there was a certain charm in the soft pine of his scent when she always ducked her face close to his shoulder at the first burn of the wind. They traveled so quickly that sometimes it was a miracle that Keqing arrived in one piece, though this time he seemed to be taking a greater precaution to not ruffle her too much before they could arrive.
It was only because they could travel like this that she had felt confident in waiting this long to ask him if she could accompany him to Lantern Rite in the first place—as last-minute as possible, though he knew it must have killed her to wait so long, given how prompt and well planned out everything else she did was. The hill was far enough away from Liyue that neither would be seen, but the view of the city in the glow of the waning light from the sunset was enough to take her breath away. “This is where you’ve watched it from?”
“For the last few hundred years,” he offered, though he wouldn’t clarify if that was how long he’d been watching it for, or if he simply had a different spot before then to look on from. He never clarified, and Keqing rarely asked; the years that spanned between mortality and immortality were not a subject that either broached often—one, because it would remind Xiao of the impermanence of their bond, and two…
Well, Keqing was one of the few people who could look Xiao in the eye and tell him that she didn’t care how long he had been fighting on his own in the world, or suffering in lone solitude, because she didn’t intend to let him do either any longer. No matter how their lives were different in theory, they had come to share it in their own, strange ways. “It’s lovely,” she whispered, enraptured by the sight to the point that she didn’t see his gaze lingering on her when he made a small, vocal sound of agreement.
He set her down, before taking a few steps forward to settle himself on a large, flat rock that seemed as if it had been his sole companion for the last countless Lantern Rites. After only a small pause, she moved to sit next to him on it, their knees brushing. Once, Xiao might have flinched away, hesitant of getting too close to anyone.
Now, he took the opportunity of that closeness to grasp her hand again.
Sunset fell fast this time of year, and the darkness of the horizon rose with the twinkle of stars in exchange for that waning light. The city glowed as if it had captured the light of the setting sun and cleaved it close to its heart—only to divide it up into small, equal portions to be distributed throughout the lanterns of those lining up at the docks.
“Would you like to set one off?” Keqing asked, her fingers straying to her bag. She had brought enough supplies with her for it—though xiao lanterns could be a novel thing, their importance was not missed in Liyue.
His grip tightened a little against her fingers, and he frowned, shaking his head. “There is no point. The lanterns are a frivolous human notion—we hear the wishes, and there is no need for us to place any as a heavier burden on the night wind. The Adepti are those that should carry Liyue’s wishes on.”
It was such a quick, steadfast refusal that it gave Keqing time to think over his words, instead; he had offered more information than he normally did, likely to dissuade her from pressing on it further. That, however, only made her more intrigued. “You… think of yourself as a sort of xiao lantern, then? Do you carry with you the wishes of Liyue and Rex Lapis both? Do you think that’s why he bequeathed you that name? The art of lantern-making, and of their symbolism is older than even you.”
Golden eyes settled on her, wide with bewilderment at the comparison. It faded quickly, but she relished in those little moments when she could draw surprise across his features. Perhaps it was just that he hadn’t had anyone to interact with so regularly in so long, or maybe he never had someone ask such things of him even when he did. “It is not my place to question Rex Lapis’ intent,” he ventured, softly. “It is none of our place to question him.”
“Which is where we disagree, because I make it a weekly task to do so.” Not a lie, despite her… somewhat affectionate penchant for exploring her newfound respect for him since the Archon’s passing. “We have no way of knowing what it might have been for certain, now… but that doesn’t mean that you aren’t allowed to have your own wishes, too.” Reassuringly, she gave his fingers a little squeeze. “It’s not selfish to want to live—or be more than what you think your duty is. None of us are creatures without dreams. …Even if you’ve had to eat a few to have them yourself. Maybe you’ve had so many of my dreams by now that a few wishes have slipped in. Is Xiao my xiao lantern?”
Her smile was fond, and his cheeks dusted pink; from the start of this strange relationship, she had never forbidden him from her dreams, though she seemed to hold a strange awareness in them. Xiao had never known a mortal to be so stubborn that she wouldn’t let herself drift in the fantasy of them. There was too much work to be done, and dreams were simply time that could be spent planning for the weeks and months and years that were to come.
It was how she’d encouraged him to take a few of her sweeter ones, to warm his heart in the absence of her, thanks to her complicated schedule. Dreams were a renewable resource, she had insisted. She could dream forever—and teasingly, she had added that he gave her plenty to dream about.
He fell silent at the encouragement, but also because out across the sky, a sea of a thousand shimmering stars began to float upwards, all bearing different decorations and intentions alike. Xiao’s fingers threaded through her own and squeezed, unintentionally drawing her attention away from the lanterns while the gold of his eyes seemed to glow in their distant light. Two lanterns in their own right, set in the prettiness of his visage.
It was hard to think that he didn’t believe himself worthy of wishes of his own, especially in a Liyue where Rex Lapis reigned no longer. “He would want you to be happy, I think.”
“I am,” he answered quietly, not yet looking at her. As if he had been emboldened by the sight of the thousand lanterns, as if the wishes of all of Liyue could finally offer him the strength to speak such quiet little things aloud. “… I am happy. Here. With you.” It was a rare opportunity to hear his feelings out; as poor as he was with putting them into words, he didn’t make the attempt often. He preferred gestures of affection—a glaze lily to tuck gingerly behind her ear when the land could spare the rare flower, or extending a bite of his tofu to her, carefully balanced at the end of his eating utensil.
Somehow, despite the fact that she already knew his intentions without him having to speak them aloud, hearing his confirmation planted some sense of relief in her heart. Keqing lifted their joined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his palm, before she carefully untangled their fingers in favor of reaching to her bag again, folding it flat across her knees as she fetched the materials from within. Fiber, wick material, and a few carefully wrapped chunks of plaustrite. Even now, though, Xiao looked uncertain. “We don’t have to.”
“You’re right. We don’t have to—but I would still like to release one with you.” It took the power from his uncertainty, and placed a more steadfast stock in the fact that it was something she desired, instead. Such re-framing of scenarios between them wasn’t uncommon, used both to make things understandable from their own, unique perspectives—but also to be firm about what they wanted, as well. He was just as guilty of it as she was at times when she couldn’t catch on to his somewhat stubbornly vague moments.
Very neatly, she passed over a few sheets of the paper they’d be using for it, offering a smile. “Paint it for us,” she insisted softly, emphasizing the ‘us.’ Shared lanterns, released together often held an entirely different meaning than ones an individual would release on their own. The wishes involved intermingled, often shared from the same hope. They would craft it together.
“With what?” He asked, glancing towards her bag—which he had come to learn that, despite its unassuming size, had carried everything from entire meals to unexpected weapons within at different times.
“Is there not some secret Adepti art that might produce ink?” She teased, though she was already pulling out a small inkstone and well, placing it between them so Xiao could take it and begin to grind what he would need. She placed a brush, carefully balanced, on his thigh afterward. Though assembling the lantern frame took a little more deft handiwork than painting, presumably, she didn’t mind the small, extra responsibility. She didn’t know when the last time might have been when Xiao had been able to decorate a lantern, or if he had even had a chance to do so before.
They work in unison and in silence, but it was a comfortable feeling, too—like they could speak, but that there was no need for them to. The construction of the frame was simple enough, perfect for the sheets of paper that she had passed to him. Insatiably curious, though, she did sneak a peek as she finished it—only to find Xiao mostly done. He had worked quickly, his brushstrokes simple but arranged in such a way that they were undeniably elegant, saying the most with the least amount of complicated effort put into the idea.
There would be two blank sides, and two decorated; on one, a beautiful collage of lilies wrapped around the stems leading up to qingxin flowers. On the other, two cats curled against one another, too absorbed in one another to care about the world around them. It was a less traditional xiao lantern decoration, but then again, it was a less traditional creator of one, too. It was… endearing, but more than that, Keqing found it adorable.
He caught her staring, and tongue in cheek, he felt his face heat again. “We don’t have to use both, or either-“
“They’re perfect,” she asserted firmly, shifting to set the frame down, taking the paper to connect to the frame, mindful to let it dry for a few minutes before she set the plaustrite within. “We can still make the tail-end of the release, too,” she whispered, smiling to him with the backdrop of the sea of lanterns behind her, making her glow as if she were the otherworldly creature between the two of them. He could only nod, struck by the sight before she gestured him over to the edge of the cliff face. “With me,” she guided, as both of them set a hand on a corner of the lantern each. “And remember, make a wish.”
“I know how it works,” he murmured, feeling foolish and childish for such silly little traditions, but his heart felt too warm and too big for his chest for everything that was happening. He closed his eyes against the feeling to brace himself, and despite the fact he wasn’t trying to, he couldn’t help but practically feel her own wish fill half of the lantern between them.
‘I wish for his happiness, for years to come.’
Sometimes Xiao perceived his responsibilities as an Adepti and a Yaksha as a straining burden—and moments like these, he may have regretted his gifts for not being able to give her the privacy she deserved. He would not tell her that he could hear her wish, too. It only resolved his determination, though, and he exhaled his own silent wish to join hers in the lantern.
Unlike Xiao, Keqing had no way of knowing what his own wish would be. Perhaps it was better, that way—he might die of very mortal embarrassment if she had even a hint of knowledge that her desire for his happiness was so deeply entwined with his desire to stay by her side.
They exhaled as one, an old tradition of letting that careful, slow breath carry their wish to the heart of the lantern, and lifted the lantern up. Their hands found each other’s opposite as it drifted from them to join the others lingering in the night sky. Because he could not let such tenderness go without some small complaint, the innate pessimist that he could be, he looked to her with a half-frown. “It seems a lot of work to waste for something that will end up stuck in a tree,” he admitted, tongue in cheek.
She gave him an all too knowing look, and lifted his hands, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. The gesture is familiar by now—she has kissed every scar on his fingers and palms at least once, despite how uncomfortable it may have made him in the early days to think that her lips could ever brush such bloodstained skin. “There is a lovely older couple in Qingce that have collected hundreds of salvaged lanterns to preserve the artwork on them. There are legends of lanterns that fall to the darkest depths of the ocean, where the wishes within soothe the anguish of entrapped gods. Some lanterns supposedly make it all the way to Inazuma and beyond. Whether our wish winds up in a tree or at the bottom of the ocean, it doesn’t make it any less ours, does it?”
Sometimes Xiao could not shake how softly optimistic one of the most terrifying women in Liyue could be. Freeing one of his hands, he tilted it up to brush her bangs out of the way, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Keqing didn’t know if it was the festival that made him so affectionate in passing—but she couldn’t find herself minding it, either. If it meant that she got to feel the warm glow that his attention made blossom in her chest, then she’d wait for a thousand Lantern Rites for it. “You’re right,” he conceded, because he often did concede to her. She was so often right, after all. There was no question in his mind that Rex Lapis had seen promise in her because of that, and that charming boldness to her countenance.
“I’m right?” Keqing asked, a coy encouragement for elaboration. Xiao lifted a brow, because it wasn’t particularly subtle, but he would entertain it nonetheless.
“Yes,” he relented, this time tilting her chin up for the brush of his lips against her own. “No matter where our lantern goes, we are here to ensure that the wishes involved are carried out.”
It was good enough for both of them—because neither of them was the type of person to sit around and wait for someone else to fulfill their wishes. For now, though, they would let their lantern drift amidst the others, while Xiao pulled her into his lap for them both to watch the silent splendor.