Work Text:
Under the moonlight, Ganyu quietly sits at her desk – the last worker still in the office – as she slowly stares up at the night sky from her window, stars and moonlight reflecting across violet eyes; quietly, she looks down to all of Liyue below from high above the courtyard. She looks down at the terrace where she works, at the streets where merchants slowly pull down their doors and close their gates, at the harbor where the waves crashed against steady wood and stone, and towards the sea, where the moon’s reflection flickers out on the horizon.
“Where all merchants flock, and all ships dock, and over the oceans flow its stock,” she mutters to herself.
Liyue Harbor is where all things come to settle, she’s heard it said once.
Liyue Harbor is where she’s come to settle.
She yawns as through heavy, droopy eyes, she shifts through the paperwork still scattered on her desk; she organizes half-finished financial reports, tax collections, and that one tricky building permit that gets being put on her desk for some strange reason, even though Keqing is the one who is supposed to be approving it, not her. She pays it no more head, as she quietly sighs and makes neat stacks of legal matters, old business permits, letters, and notes; she glances upward again to the window next to her desk to stare up at the moon that shines down on her small, lonesome form in her big desk in such a big, strange world…
Ah, she absentmindedly realizes. She’s worked far too late into the night again – she can already imagine his form sitting on her desk, legs playfully dangling off the edge as he scolds her for working overtime - again. She can already imagine that he’s chastising her for working too hard, telling her to just clock in and get to bed already.
Ah, but there’s still so much work to do and -
The window subtly creaks open, one of the panels seemingly swaying in the wind, all by itself. She blinks as she rubs her eyes, and then, thinks nothing of it – she often opens her windows around the afternoon for her naptime, and she guesses she probably forget to close it properly the last time she did so. It’s nothing new, really - this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and she doubts it’ll be the last, so she thinks nothing of it as she stands up and fighting back a yawn, goes to close the window…
But not before catching the sight of a lone Cecilia that rests on her window sill, petals fluttering in the evening breeze. And she smiles, warmly, as she traces verdant leaves between her fingers.
It had been a gift.
It had been a gift from him.
It had been a gift from him, because she had told him she wanted flowers for her window sill, but was too afraid to plant Qingxin flowers, in the fear she wouldn’t be able to resist eating them. And so, he brought her a Cecilia – a flower from his home, on the cliffs where he would play his lyre.
If he were here right now, what would she say? What would she tell him?
I still remember that day.
She still remembers the day they first met.
It was warm, she fondly recalls, as the wind blew gently through the leaves of the trees that shaded Mt. Aocang; it was the spring.
Carefully shielded under Cloud Retainer’s wing, she watched a mysterious stranger, dressed in dazzling white with a flower tucked in his hair, offer a bottle of wine. This mysterious stranger chatted with her lord, her father – Rex Lapis – as if they were old friends; yet, she knew she had never seen anyone like him before. She had never seen someone who could so easily grasp the wind as simple as breathing, had never seen such dazzling white wings other than her mother, whom she hid behind.
Their eyes had met once, briefly; he smiled at her, and she hid her face even deeper in her mother’s down. And he had laughed. He had laughed, and she had never him laugh before – she hadn’t even heard him speak, not really – but somehow, it felt as gentle as the sea of clouds that surrounded Jueyun Karst.
It’s funny, in a strange way, to think that she still covers her face the same way now as she did back then – behind plain white paperwork, like plain white wings.
As the evening breezes caresses her face and flutters through hair and ripples across the paper on her docks, it smells so much like the sea. It smells like the whole of Liyue, from the boats that found shelter in its docks, to the food sold in merchant stalls, to the smells of the Glaze Lilies that surrounded the terrace where she worked at. It smells so wholly of Liyue, of the place she’s called home for so long, and yet..
Somehow, she wishes she could see the dandelions that fluttered in the gentle winds of Mondstadt; she wishes she could hear the laughter of its children in the streets, the sweet, coy smell of a freshly popped bottle of wine, and the sound of his voice next to her ear – a part of her wishes she was there right now, sitting under moonlight at Starsnatch Cliff, waiting for him.
There is a gentleness to him she can’t quite describe; there is a softness in his voice. He lures her in with feather-light promises, and in return, she carries apples on her person. It’s all a little embarrassing, she thinks, just how easily he entrances her, just how easily he can pull out this wild side of her that she hadn’t seen since the days of her youth. And every time he speaks, she listens, wholeheartedly; she waits for his heartbeat.
She laughs as she finally closes the window, and shakes her weary head. She laughs as she wonders if this is what Liyuean woman must see in the Mondstadt men they marry; if they too, heard the same songs of freedom and pleasure that she hears, of a life that seems so much like a fairytale. She sighs as she makes sure it’s shut. But she must get back to work – there are papers to sign, documents to seal and plans to revise – she just needs to push a little more….
And as she turns around, suddenly, the window is open again – it creaks loudly in the breeze, as wind sweeps in from the east, blowing through hair and stacks of her paperwork and –
As she stands there, as the wind dies down and as her hair settles back on her shoulders, she realizes it.
It smells like Mondstadt’s winds.
It smells of dandelion, of wine, and of him, as she quickly approaches the window again and pokes her head out to look for him; as she glances upwards, she finds him…! He’s there, she mutters under her breath, as with a smile, he floats slowly downward from the sky, the moon casting a white ring around his head, like a halo. In his arms, there are bundles of Qingxin flowers, a single Glaze Lily, and a bottle of wine.
“Venti?” She asks, incredulously, as the moonlight reflects in specks of blue in verdant eyes.
“Happy birthday,” he says as he smiles again, as he sits on her window sill and gives her the flowers. “I remembered these were your favorite! I hope you like them.”
“Yes, of course!” She smiles as she nods, and as she takes them, ripping off a few of their petals and begins to chew. He laughs, and she laughs too, in between her bites, a blush slowly creeping up on her features. Still, these were just the push she needed, she thinks, and then…
Carefully, he takes the Glaze Lily and with a lovingly hand, tucks it into her hair, behind her ear.
“I picked it myself,” he whispers. “I picked it myself, and I picked that one that first bloomed when I sang of you.”
Red erupts on her cheeks; it spreads all the way to her ears, as she flushes, and bites her lip. “That’s – this is too much,” she stammers, “You didn’t have to do this..”
He chuckles, as he takes her chin in his hand, and he kisses her. “Of course I had to,” he whispers. “It’s your birthday! And a beautiful, special lady like yourself deserves to be feel doubly beautiful and special on her birthday!”
“Is that why you brought a bottle of wine?” She chuckles herself. “Did you plan on getting this ‘beautiful, special lady’ tipsy?”
“No! Goodness gracious, no!” He says, in mock offense as he hops down from his spot on the ledge, and places the bottle on her desk. “That’s why I only brought one – it’s just to celebrate your special day! How old are you turning again…?”
“Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” She giggles as she opens a bottom drawer for two wine glasses.
“I’m just asking,” he laughs again, as he goes back to her window sill and chances upon the lone Cecilia there. Quietly, he rubs soft petals between his fingers. “Ganyu…. You actually kept it?”
“Of course I did,” she says as she places the two glasses on her desk. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s such a beautiful gift – and it was a gift from you…”
He grins as he goes to her, placing his hands on her waist. “Have I told you I loved you?”
“Every morning and every night,” she says warmly, as she gently brushes a loose strand of dark hair from his face. “Every morning and every night, you tell me how much you love me.”
And as they sit on her desk to drink their wine like school children, there’s a tenderness to him she can’t quite describe; there’s a warmth in his voice, that lures in as they laugh and drink the early morning hours away. It’s all just a little too embarrassing, she thinks, just how easily she finds herself pulled into him. And every time he speaks, she listens. Every time he sings, she opens up her heart, and she lets him in.
What would she tell him, now that he’s here and they’re together, face to face, breathing the same air?
She’d tell him, I still remember the first time I realized I fell in love you.
You were crying up on the mountain, shielded by the red leaves that made spotted patterns on your cheeks. It was the spring, and you told me just how wondrous, just how beautiful it was, to love someone as beautiful and wondrous as me. And as I held your hands, I cried too; I asked myself, how could I ever be worthy of someone like you?
But then, you kissed me.
You kissed me, and everything made sense.
She could tell him all of this, she thinks; she could tell him all of this and more…
But instead, she simply takes his hands like he did that day when he first told her he loved her, and she kisses him instead.