Archive of Our Own

It was rare that Lumine truly felt like she could lower her guard. 

Be it in the bustling streets of Liyue Harbor or deep in the wilderness, her posture was always tense, eyes constantly darting from one shadow to another. Never not suspicious, perpetually on edge. She didn’t even realize it anymore— only when Paimon would comment on her hands flying to her sword at the slightest sound, or when her companions would ask what was wrong, did she even acknowledge her surveillance.

Such was the life of an outlander among outlanders. Teyvat was not her world— she didn’t belong there, no matter how acclimated to its cultures and peoples she became. Without her constant vigil, taking in every sight she could, every shift of body language, every whisper, she’d feel even more lost than she already did.

Which was why it was strange when, out of nowhere, her and Paimon’s quiet dinner was interrupted by two completely unexpected events.

First— the seemingly abandoned ruins that they’d spent the entire day exploring suddenly burst to life with treasure hoarders, their bulky forms blotting out the meager light of the moon as they encroached upon her camp. Lumine was too stunned for her better instincts to kick in— how was it that she missed such a large group of people?

Not just people— treasure hoarders. They weren’t exactly known for their stealth, nor their smarts. How was it that they’d evaded her all day? Had they only just arrived?

No dusty crevice of the ruins had gone unnoticed by her watchful eye. Every crumbling floor, every dilapidated structure was inspected carefully by the pair that was Lumine and Paimon— such was their commission.

They hadn’t noticed a single pebble out of place. No dusty footprints, no scent of campfires in the air. No butterfly should have been able to flap its wings without one or the other of them noticing— so what the hell was an entire team of treasure hoarders doing here?

Her momentary shock was enough for them to gain the advantage, two large men who appeared seemingly out of nowhere grabbing her by the arms and preventing her from reaching for her sword. “Leave me alone!” She cried, thrashing against them. But size and brute strength were their forte, and they only grunted as she futilely twisted against their holds.

“Be a good girl and shut your mouth,” one of the other men in her camp growled as he began to root through her bag. Paimon had seemingly disappeared, as she often did during particularly frightening combat. Lumine could only hope she was safe.

“I have nothing of interest to you!” She tried, fighting to wrench herself out of her attackers’ hold. “Don’t touch my things!”

But it was no use. In the faint light, Lumine could see the man continue to claw through her carefully organized inventory as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

The men’s grip on her bare arms was so tight as they began to haul her away that Lumine was certain she’d have bruises. “I have nothing of interest to you,” she repeated, quieter this time, her fight leaving her as the dim light of her fire grew farther and farther away.

“That’s not true and you know it,” a deep, gravelly voice spat. 

“Please. I’ll leave you be. Just unhand me.”

One of the men snorted. Lumine used what little strength she had to drive her elbow into the man on the left’s chest. He didn’t even falter.

“Not a chance, Honorary Knight.” the other one said, voice dripping with sarcasm at the mention of her title. His voice was higher, much more nasally. “You’re coming with us.”

And then— as if to make up for her feeble resistance— he twisted arm so that it was pressed behind her back at an awkward angle, the muscles in her shoulder crying out after only seconds in the uncomfortable new position.

Between the darkness, her confusion, and the pain coursing through every inch of her body, her focus was too far gone to summon even an ounce of elemental energy. And— she realized, a bit wryly— even if she could, it wouldn’t do much good. A blast of wind would do little but aggravate her heavy attackers.

Once again she cursed herself. How was it that they managed to sneak up on her? Had she been so caught up in her dinner that she didn’t bother to pay attention? Certainly they’d made some sort of sound as they neared her. Treasure hoarders were not known for their grace.

And yet… These ones were different. They knew her title. They knew exactly where to find her. And they knew how to restrain her: with pure, unbridled strength that her small body couldn’t compete with.

What was it that they wanted?

And what the hell was she going to do?

It was too dark for her to make out much more of her surroundings, but she could just barely see more than just the two men roughly shoving her along— it was a whole party of treasure hoarders escorting her to who-knows-where. This clearly wasn’t a random attack.

Lumine had seen their makeshift camps before, complete with cages and prisoners. She’d freed more than her fair share of hostages. Was that their intention— to lock her up? Maybe charge some ransom? Certainly they knew that no cage could keep her for long.

Unless they counted for that, too. Maybe they’d figured out the very kind that could.

“What are you going to do with me?” She tried as they stumbled along, tired of speculating. Perhaps their usual idiocy would come out again and they’d reveal their plans. Besides— it wasn’t like the knowledge would free her from her current predicament.

“You’ll have to wait and see,” the one who’d used her title responded, giving her a particularly hard shove in the right direction. They didn’t seem to like it when she spoke. “Now pick up the pace. I’m not dragging you there.”

“You might as well,” Lumine bit back, but her usual fire was gone. The uncertainty of her situation and the way that her arms were beginning to absolutely ache at their holds was enough to make her feel completely helpless.

Helplessness was the one feeling she actively avoided at all costs. 

Lumine could handle rage. She could handle sadness. But helplessness , that painful reminder that she was away from her brother in a foregin world, lost and confused, nobody coming to save her… 

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself— an act that was difficult considering she was being pulled every which way at once, her shins earning kicks from heavy boots if she didn’t comply immediately.

How many times had she beaten up men exactly like these?

Lumine was small, but she was also smart. She knew that strength wasn’t everything.

She took another deep breath. She could do this. She had to do this.

After a turn right— she’d long since realized they were on some winding path she wasn’t familiar with— she sensed some change in the posture of the men holding her. Deciding that this was her chance, she connected an elbow to one’s side and swept one of her legs beneath the other’s.

It wasn’t much, but it at least caught them off guard. The one who stumbled forward  released his hold on her. She took this as her opportunity to try to twist out of the other’s grip, using her now free hand to send a blast of Anemo energy into his face.

But he stood fast, wrapping both arms around her slight frame and holding her against him. Though she doubted he could even see, he understood his task well, and as she thrashed against him once more, beating her hand against his chest, kicking against his legs, he didn’t budge.

“Bitch,” the one who’d released her muttered, hastily getting back to his feet. Lumine could feel the other man pressed against her, heavy coughs wracking through his body from the blast of wind. If only his arms weren’t restraining her so, she could strike him right in his soft belly.

A hand connected with the side of her face, stopping her assessment before it could even get very far. The shock of it alone was enough to stall the pain from setting in— all she could do at first was simply blink, looking at the treasure hoarder who’d struck her with wide, confused eyes. Nobody had ever landed such a clean hit on her.

“Don’t do that again,” he spat, face dirty from where it had hit the path, “or I’ll hurt that pretty face even more.”

Lumine’s mind was reeling too much to even conceive any sort of retort. How long had it been since she’d felt this way?

She couldn’t even tell if her pain was from the slap or from her overwhelming sense of powerlessness. 

No matter how she looked at it, she was completely and utterly screwed. And somehow that hurt worse than the burning on her cheek.

“You good to get going again?” The man holding her— whom she’d nearly forgotten about— asked. His voice was hoarse from coughing. “I’ll keep her close. She’s not going anywhere again.”

“I’m good. You sure you are?”

“Oh yeah. I don’t know what we were so afraid of. She’s such a skinny thing.”

Lumine kept her mouth shut, knowing better than to speak. And they weren’t wrong— without her sword, she really wasn’t much of a threat.

The larger man, still holding her as close as he humanly could, wrenched her arms behind her back once again and tossed her over his shoulder. Embarrassment flooded into the tempest of other emotions swirling about in her mind— she felt utterly exposed in their new configuration, feeling the wind on her bottom as they began to move once more.

She bent her head at an awkward angle to avoid suffocating against the man’s back, the stench of him so much more apparent now that her face was practically pressed into his ragged shirt. 

This was it.

Lumine had a laundry list of achievements from across the nation of Teyvat, ranging from quelling the wrath of a dragon to kicking Childe’s ass in their weekly sparring matches.

She’d hurt herself before. She’d failed before. Her brother had been wrenched away from her by an unknown god. But nothing compared to how she felt at that moment: battered, broken, humiliated, and completely, absolutely alone.

Nobody was coming for her. Nobody knew she was out in this part of the wild, and, even if they did, nobody was around. That was made abundantly clear in her earlier exploration: these ruins weren’t a place frequented by normal people.

It had been some time since she’d cried. Since her arrival to Teyvat, she’d been saving it— perhaps subconsciously— for a moment that truly warranted it.

The hot prickling behind her eyes and the stuttering of her breaths suggested that her streak was about to end.

At first, the only indication that something was wrong was the way that the man’s grip relaxed, and— as if she wasn’t close enough to hear it pressed against him— the way that he whispered to his partner, “what’s going on?”

Lumine had begun to lose track of how long they’d been walking. The overwhelming darkness of the nearly-moonless night and the blur of her tears coupled to blind her to her surroundings, nevermind the overwhelming stench of the man and the loudness of his footsteps.

Needless to say, she hadn’t the faintest clue where in Liyue they were, nevermind what was frightening her captors.

She could only hope they’d wandered into the den of some beast. Her lack of combat ability wouldn’t matter then— all she had to do was simply outrun them.

“Hell if I know. Probably some last resort ability of hers,” the one with the higher voice responded. “Is she doing anything?”

“No. I thought she passed out, she’s been so quiet. Should I put her down?”

“Go ahead. But be careful.”

Roughly, Lumine was contorted into a position where she was facing the man who’d struck her. Her feet now on the ground, she realized the source of their concern— the ground was shaking, vibrating with some sort of power she couldn’t quite place.

“What are you doing now?” The one not holding her asked. “Stop it.”

“This isn’t my doing,” Lumine replied, hating how meek her voice sounded.

“Sure it isn’t. Do you want to be hit again?”

She swallowed. She didn’t, but she had a feeling nothing she could say would convince this man otherwise.

Luckily, she didn’t have to.

“You asked for this,” he began, raising his hand to strike her once more. Lumine squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself for impact. Perhaps this time, since she knew it was coming, it wouldn’t hurt so bad—

But his hand never connected with her cheek. Instead, the shaking earth began to rumble, crescendoing into a harsh splitting sound that filled the empty air. 

When Lumine dared to open her eyes again, she found a pillar of rock before her, swirling with a golden energy that was painfully familiar.

She nearly fell to her knees.

It was too good to be true. Perhaps she’d been hit so hard she was imagining things.

But the man who peered around the new rock, holding his red, mangled hand in the other, was not a figment of her mind. She was far too uncreative to imagine the look of rage on his face.

“You little-” he said through grit teeth, his thin voice dripping with fury. But whatever insult he had planned would never reach her ears.

In the stele’s amber glow, Lumine could make out the way that his eyes widened in horror. At least he realized now that this was not her doing.

A golden meteor streaked across the darkened sky, shaming the moon and stars in its wake with its brilliant gilded tail. And while the man across from her was rooted to the ground in fear, every nerve gone still, Lumine let out a breath of relief and slackened against where her other assailant held her.

Somebody had come for her after all.

When it collided with the ground, the explosion was more than grand enough for her to make her escape. Bits and pieces of rock should have scraped her skin where she fled. Smoke should have blinded her eyes. But nothing did, for a gilded shield of jade materialized around her body, protecting her from the chaos her savior had caused.

“Zhongli,” she breathed when the smoke finally cleared and she spotted him, his polearm pointed to the sky, eyes glowing with some combination of heavenly strength and divine rage.

When they met hers they softened, and he opened his mouth to call out to her.

But they were not alone in this stretch of land.

Lumine shouted out a warning, but it was too late. One of the other treasure hoarders, having avoided the bedlam of the Geo archon’s meteor, rose.

It was like it happened in slow motion. All the warmth from his arrival disappeared in a second as the knife hurtled through the air, its path straight and true. Zhongli only looked at Lumine, and as the words left her lips to move, it lodged itself perfectly into his chest.

She screamed as the men around her began to stir. She imagined they had orders to bring her somewhere alive— this obviously didn’t apply to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor’s director.

If only they knew. If only they realized what they’d done.

The shield dissipated into a shower of golden sparks as its creator fell to his knees, polearm clattering against the ground.

It was like some sort of switch was turned. Whatever helplessness, whatever pity party Lumine had been throwing for herself moments ago long forgotten, she readied into her fighting posture, calling upon every ounce of elemental energy she possessed.

She didn’t have her sword. She didn’t have a vision. But she’d be damned if she didn’t have something to fight for.

“What’re you going to do now?” Taunted one of the treasure hoarders, the men not completely knocked out forming a tight circle around her.

She didn’t know which one had spoken. She didn’t care. She didn’t see their weapons, nor the nefarious glint to their eyes. She only saw bodies: men who’d harmed her friend, men who’d harmed her, who’d embarrassed her.

Lumine took a deep breath and closed her eyes, thinking of Mondstadt, of Venti, of Jean, of Sucrose of Xiao— every Anemo wielder she’d ever met. Of the raw strength they wielded.

Venti’s persistence. Jean’s loyalty. Sucrose’s tenacity. Xiao’s strength.

A swirl of wind surrounded her, the gust blowing back her assailants. Up into the air they went, pulled into the vortex with a cacophony of shouts and screams.

It was no simple wind that lifted them from where they stood. It cut into them, the vacuum of air lashing out against their skin, tearing at their dingy clothes. They continued to cry out, insulting her, cursing her, but the rushing of the tornado drowned out their words.

Despite the raw Anemo energy that created it, the swirl was tinged gold— a testament to the power of Geo left behind by the very Archon himself.

Straining with the effort, Lumine twisted her hands to force the twister into the crater Zhongli’s meteor had created, sucking up rocks and debris in the process. When she felt there was an adequate amount to scratch and strike the damned theives, she used every ounce of energy she had left to throw the tornado against the treeline. 

Their howls of pain quieted at once as they collectively lost their consciousness, skin raw and red from the cut of the wind.

Though every inch of her screamed to rush to the other unconscious man, Lumine quickly inspected each of the men, double and triple checking that they wouldn’t be getting up and following her. When she was certain they were all out cold, she rose, dusting her shaky palms on her dirtied white dress.

“If there are any other treasure hoarders lurking, I’d advise you to leave me alone,” she shouted to the empty air— more to be safe than anything else, for she knew she’d gotten everybody in the vicinity. “For your own good.”

Only the sounds of the night replied to her. And only then did she go to Zhongli’s side.

He was still breathing when she reached him, albeit a bit raggedly. “Zhongli,” she whispered, the only thing she could even think to say. “Oh, Zhongli.”

Her sudden exertion of power, combined with the fatigue she’d accrued during her rough journey from her camp, were forgotten as she observed her fallen companion. The only thing she could think about was Zhongli, here, her saviour, her rescuer, collapsed onto the dirty ground in a puddle of dark red.

He’d fallen onto his side, his head bent at an uncomfortable looking angle. Lumine gently rolled him onto his back, careful to avoid the seeping wound on his chest.

“It doesn’t look too deep,” she remarked to herself quietly, fighting to keep the tears that sprang to her eyes at bay. She was surprised she even had any left. “He’s going to be okay. He’s going to be okay.”

Throwing knives were not normally meant to kill. Especially from the range that the man had thrown it, it shouldn’t have been fatal. It couldn’t be. Zhongli— Rex Lapis, the fucking Geo Archon— couldn’t die like this.

“Don’t remove the weapon,” she instructed herself, worried that she’d simply freeze and collapse against him, a sobbing mess, if there wasn’t some sound to fill the air. “Leave it there to stop blood loss.”

But she felt as though she had to see the wound with her own eyes. And so— ever so carefully— she began to peel away the layers of his clothing, cutting away the heavy brown jacket she’d never seen him without. If he survived, she’d spend all her Mora to get him a new one.

Lumine cursed herself for lacking any sort of healing ability as she inspected the damage, crimson blood seeping from beneath the throwing knife and staining the porcelain skin of Zhongli’s chest. She was no Barbara. No Jean. What the hell was she going to do?

Zhongli couldn’t die. He meant so much to the people of Liyue— not even just as their former God, but as a staple of the harbor. He knew everything. He was kind. He was polite. He told stories and listened to stories, knew every street corner, every salesman... 

The tears that Lumine had been fighting to keep away blurred her vision as the last layer of his clothing was stripped away by the harsh, beautiful edge of his polearm. She wiped them away frantically.

It wasn’t just Liyue that would miss Zhongli. And it wouldn’t be because of his position as one of the Seven that Lumine would mourn him.

Nobody in this world understood her like the Archons did, what with their fake visions and their otherworldly origins. They weren’t like the others.

When Zhongli would speak of his years of history, Lumine would listen. And Lumine would understand.

When Lumine would harness the power of elements she didn’t have any claim to, Zhongli didn’t bat an eye. He would give her his slight, perfect smile and remark upon some anecdote that warmed her heart to hear.

Zhongli loved the world. He loved to learn. He loved to spread his knowledge.

There was so much more for him to see. So many more people to hear his stories— so many people to fall in love with him, as Lumine had, as the entirety of Liyue Harbor had

It was not his time to go just yet.

A rasping cough roused her from her thoughts. At first, she went rigid, thinking it to be from the pile of treasure hoarders on the other side of the path.

Still gripping Zhongli’s polearm, she got to her feet, scouring their remains for the one who still breathed. The one who dared face her while she fought to keep an Archon alive.

The cough came again. But this time, Lumine paid closer attention to where it came from.

And finally she resigned herself to the tears streaming down her face, no longer expending her precious energy to keep them back.

She collapsed back onto her knees, letting the polearm fall onto the earth once more as its owner fought down another shaking gasp of air.

“Zhongli,” she murmured through her own unsteady breaths, fingers twisting in the grass. She longed to reach out to him, to smooth his hair down, to hold his face in her hands. But she was afraid that even the slightest movement would hurt him.

“Miss Lumine,” he croaked, trying to prop himself onto his elbows.

“I’m here,” Lumine replied quietly. “Don’t move too much. Please.”

His eyes found hers, half-lidded. His beautiful features were contorted in pain— thin lips twisted into a grimace, a wrinkle between his perfectly shaped brows.

“You shouldn’t see me like this,” he said quietly.

Later Lumine would remark on the strangeness of his sentence. How the man who’d put himself in danger for her sake was pitying her— how his undying selflessness remained even as he did, in fact, lay close to death.

But there was no more time for sentiment. When he rest, when he was healing, Lumine would have all the time in the world to think.

“Zhongli, you need to tell me how to help you,” Lumine said, fighting to sound composed though both her voice and her hands trembled with uncertainty.

If there was any person in the world to be bleeding out beneath her, she was glad it was him and his infinite library of knowledge. He would know what to do. He had to.

“Start by—” he winced in pain, trying to sit up— “helping me against that tree trunk.”

“Of course. Yes.”

Lumine held him gently by the shoulders as he pushed himself into a sitting position, the effort punctuated by heavy, laborious breathing. “You’re almost there,” she whispered encouragingly as he scooted— rather ungracefully— across the grass, the look of relief that crossed his face when his back touched the tree’s bark squeezing Lumine’s rapidly beating heart.

“That’s a bit better,” he rasped, tilting his sharp tchin down to inspect the knife lodged beneath his collarbone.

What an odd tableau it was— Zhongli, in all his glory, diagnosing his own stab wound. Bleeding out and faint, still emanating with the power of Geo, Lumine frantic at his side. 

It truly wasn’t a deep wound. It was high enough to have missed his lungs, but was a frighteningly close distance from his heart. Certainly he wouldn’t be alive and breathing if it was punctured, but she knew that there were quite a few important arteries in that area of the human body.

Damn the Fatui for taking his Gnosis. Damn Zhongli for giving it away. If he was still the illustrious Geo archon, untouchable and immortal, this wouldn’t have happened—

“Lumine.”

His deep voice called her back to the present.

“I’ve lost a lot of blood,” he said, sounding too collected for the words that left his mouth. “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be conscious.”

“But you’re going to be okay?” She asked, voice sounding small. Even in injury, his voice resonated with a deep, powerful timbre.

“I should be if you—” he paused to cough— “do exactly as I tell you.”

“I will, Zhongli. I will. Anything.”

And Lumine meant it. If he told her to cut out her own heart to save him, she would have.

“I know, Lumine. I know you will.”

Lumine had fought many battles in her thousand years of life, but none compared to keeping Zhongli alive.

Just as he’d predicted, he slipped back into unconsciousness as she worked, gently whispering instructions one moment and sleeping soundly the next. At least, that’s how she interpreted it— she didn’t want to think of it as anything else.

She worked well into the night, blending together the herbs that he’d instructed her to find into pastes and poultices that all seemed the same. How he had room in his head for so many things, she didn’t know, but she didn’t have time to question it— every moment was its own fight, more complex than anything she’d ever attempted.

Her final instruction, the one he’d given her just before he passed out, was one that she was dreading. As she cleaned and wrapped his wound with makeshift bandages made of her own attire— the cleanest strips she could manage, cut into jagged ribbons— she dreaded the moment she’d finish.

“When you’ve done all that you can, you must leave me,” he’d said, grabbing her by the hand to force her to look into his eyes. She’d jumped from his touch, as she often had— her body forgetting that he was practically dying beneath her as her heart began to race, her cheeks flushing. “Go to Babu Pharmacy. I have complete faith in your abilities, but you must bring someone to me. I cannot be healed in the wilderness alone.”

“ Are you sure you’ll be alright? ” Lumine had asked, gripping his hand tighter. 

“I have to be,” was all he responded.

As she tied off the last bandage, the moon at its peak in the sky, she sent out a prayer to any of the Archons who happened to be listening.

“Please,” she breathed, shutting her eyes tightly and holding her hands to her chest. “Please let Zhongli— Morax, Rex Lapis, Archon of Geo— be alright. Please.”

Lumine gave him one last look before getting to her feet.

He was so beautiful. She’d noticed it before— it was remarkably hard to miss— but even pale and sickly, skin coated in a sheen of sweat and features contorted in pain, she wondered how anybody could believe he was human.

“Please,” she said, once more for good measure. And then— though her body screamed at her to curl up and sleep beside him, to rest and regain the energy she’d expended— she began to run.

Babu pharmacy was busy when Lumine came to their door, a sweaty, panting mess covered in blood. But Baizhu, bless his heart, came to her immediately, his tiny assistant towing along behind him.

“I-it’s Zhongli,” she’d said. “Follow me. J-just outside the ruins to the north.”

“You rest here. Tell me what happened and we’ll go,” the green-haired man had said, his brilliant green vision glinting in the morning’s sunlight. It had taken the better part of the night to return to the harbor.

But Lumine shook her head. “I’m coming with,” she insisted, though now that she’d stopped moving, every ounce of energy she’d ever had seemed to leave in one fleeting moment.

“Miss Lumine?” The pharmacist asked. But she didn’t hear him.

She collapsed to the ground in a way that seemed all too familiar— knees first, and then to the side.

Lumine didn’t know when she awoke. She didn’t know where she was.

Her arms tingled with something, and the pungent smell of herbs tickled her nose. Her entire body seemed to ache, her legs most of all feeling like jelly beneath the soft blanket that had somehow been placed on her.

All she wanted to do was drift back to sleep. She didn’t even open her eyes.

But just before dreams claimed her, she remembered what had happened. She remembered the man she had to save.

Her eyes shot open and her limbs moved on their own accord, kicking off the blankets and swinging off the side of her bed. She seemed to be in some sort of infirmary, but she didn’t bother taking in her surroundings.

All she could think about was the spot of earth where she’d left Zhongli, the grass red and slick with blood. The tree he leaned against, how unnaturally pale he was.

If his heart was still beating.

A hand closed upon her bandaged wrist as she stood to leave, but she shook it off. “I have to go,” she said without turning to look, her feet unsteadily finding the floor.

“You need to rest,” the voice replied evenly.

Lumine froze.

She had to be dreaming. The last place she’d been was the pharmacy on the edge of Liyue Harbor— there was no way he was here.

“Miss Lumine,” the voice came again, the hand around her wrist gently tugging her back. “Look at me, please. I’m afraid I can’t get up to face you.”

She turned slowly, fearing what sight she would be met with. An empty bed? His corpse? A ghost?

It couldn’t be him. It couldn’t.

But when she finally looked up to meet the speaker’s eyes— his warm, soft, wonderful golden eyes— it was almost enough to bring her to her knees for the umpteenth time. 

“Zhongli,” she breathed, taking him in. “You’re alright.”

That was a stretch, truly. His bare torso was covered completely in blood soaked bandages, and he still looked remarkably pale and weak— hardly the godly presence he usually commanded. The way that he rested upon his pillows insinuated that, without their help, he wouldn’t be able to sit up and look at her.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to rescue you sooner,” he said as she continued to shamelessly inspect every inch of his body, from the curves of his shoulders to the sharp lines of his jaw. “Come closer. Let me look at you.”

As if in a trance, Lumine complied, desperate to look closer at him as well.

Now perched on the side of his bed, he lifted a hand to her, resting it gently against her cheek.

“I saw him strike you,” he continued, unperturbed by her awestruck silence. “It took every ounce of my self control not to blow my cover then and there.”

His long fingers traced gentle paths down her aching skin, his thumb drawing a line along her jaw. Lumine felt frozen beneath his touch, beneath his piercing golden gaze.

How many hours had it been since she’d thought him dead? Since she’d spoken to his unconscious form, begging the archons who still had their power to keep him from death?

“Thank goodness I was in the area. If anything happened to you…”

Zhongli trailed off and looked away, swallowing thickly. “I wouldn’t know how to go on,” he eventually said, quietly.

Lumine gently reached up a hand and rested it against his chest, careful to avoid the worst of the bloodstained bandages.

“How?” She asked, simply, hoping that him and his omniscient knowledge would pick up her meaning in the one simple word.

Beneath her hand, she could feel his heart beating.

“Baizhu says it was the luckiest stab wound he’s ever seen,” Zhongli explained, brushing a stray strand of golden hair out of Lumine’s gaze. He tucked it behind her ear with the gentlest touch, more tender than anything she’d ever seen him do. “That it missed practically everything important.”

“Are you going to be alright?”

“I already am, Miss Lumine.” He removed his hand from her cheek to rest it upon where her own still lay against his chest. “You took excellent care of me. And now you’re here. I couldn’t ask for anything else.”

“Zhongli, I-”

But she lacked his skill for poetry and flowery words. All she could do was sniffle, the tears that streamed from her eyes clouding her vision more than any strand of hair ever could.

“I thought I lost you,” she managed to get out, voice hoarse. “I thought I’d never get to hear your voice again.”

“I’m here,” he insisted, squeezing her hand, but she had started on her clumsy rant and had no intention of stopping.

“Zhongli, you’re the only person in this world who I can completely be myself around. You’re the only one I trust with all my heart. You saved me.” She paused to furiously wipe away her tears, though more replaced them just as quickly.

“Lumine.”

“No, no. Let me finish,” she said, but failed to get anything out but a choking sob.

Zhongli pulled her closer, pressing her against him. Close but still wary of his wound, she buried her head in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and reveling in his warmth.

His warmth. His beating heart. His steady, deep voice and his touch— all real. All alive.

“We’re okay,” he whispered. “We’re both going to live. We’re both going to be fine.”

“Thank you, Zhongli,” Lumine murmured into him, still breathing ragged, shaky breaths. “For everything.”

He responded by rubbing a comforting hand up and down her back.

“You’re more important to me than you know,” he said quietly after a few moments of comfortable silence, both of them simply holding one another, reminding them of each other’s presence. “I couldn’t go on without you.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Lumine replied, tilting her head up to look at him.

“If only it didn’t take our mutual injuries for us to end up this way,” he said, bending his head to rest his forehead against hers. “I’ve been alive for a very long time, Lumine. And seeing you hurt is easily the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“I know the feeling,” she replied, because she did, because of course she did.

“I promise I’ll protect you from this point forward,” he said, brushing her nose with his own. The hand that was wrapped around her waist pulled her closer, her chest pressed against his. If his wound bothered him, he gave no indication.

“And I will protect you,” Lumine replied quietly. “No more treasure hoarders with throwing knives.”

She could feel his breath on her face, hot and sweet. She could make out the delicate shadows of his long eyelashes, the brilliant gold of his eyes.

When he finally closed the distance between them, it was like everything was right in the world again.

Lumine didn’t belong in Teyvat. Zhongli didn’t belong walking alongside humans.

Neither belonged in the darkened wilderness, outsmarted by bulky treasure hoarders and their simple weaponry. Neither should have been wrapped in bandages in the tiny infirmary, reeking of herbs, bodies raw and stinging from a fight that shouldn’t have ever been fought.

But none of that mattered. Nothing mattered but Zhongli’s lips on hers, the hungry way that he pulled her closer, closer still.

“I take back what I said,” he whispered when she’d pulled away for air.

“Hm?”

“That you shouldn’t see me vulnerable.”

Once again he reached up and brushed a strand of hair away, his fingers lingering against her cheek. With the slightest tug, he pulled her back into him, desperate for more, to continue what they’d started. 

“If anybody is going to see me like that,” he said between kisses, his voice deep and raspy, “I want it to be you.”

“I’m honored,” Lumine replied, coyly meeting his gaze and looking at him through her lashes. “But don’t do it again.”

Zhongli laughed as she ran her hand along his chest, relishing in the way that it looked now that it was no longer covered in crimson blood.

“Anything for you.”

“Are they really… kissing?”

Qiqi’s detached voice was quieter than usual as she turned her head to the sprite beside her.

“Paimon must have missed something,” it replied. 

The platter of medicine in the zombie’s hands seemed as if it could wait.