Chapter Text
Near Stone Gate, in the roiling fields of grass, were two figures. The wind blew slowly, a gentle brush against their skin, and the clouds passed at a leisurely pace. The sky was beginning to darken, sunset coming in slowly but surely, but what was left of the sun still felt warm.
A peaceful, idyllic scene, interrupted only by repeated crunching noises ever so often.
Perhaps it would be a shock to know that the two figures belonged to Archons, beings that seemed to be so above simple pleasures like this, resting on the ground when they could so easily float above it.
The area was rich in resources, though, with fruit trees, wild, edible plants, and both fish and boar near. They had made a day of it, catching some of the fish, crushing up nearby chilis to add a little spice...
If one was being objective, the dish was obviously much more like Liyue's cuisine than Mond's, but Barbatos did help in the preparations. Plus, he'd happily volunteered to procure them dessert in order to make up for it!
Dessert was, maybe, a tad underwhelming, but it was dessert all the same and Barbatos loved it; apples, freshly plucked from some nearby trees that he could easily fly up into to retrieve.
Morax had only raised his eyebrows ever so slightly, which would practically amount to a scoff and a roll of the eyes from anyone else, but Barbatos paid it very little mind. He took greedy bites from the fruit, biting through the skin even as Morax carefully peeled his own 'dessert' with a little bit of assistance from his non-human form. One of his hands was more akin to a claw at the moment, scraping off the exterior of the apple, rotating it slowly as he carried on.
Like nearly everything Morax did, it was done carefully, precisely, and somehow managed to look elegant. Barbatos chewed slowly, thoughtfully, with his eyes focused on his friend. It was a wonder, really, that the staring didn't spark Morax's temper, as so much seemed to.
He wasn't like that always, mostly with Barbatos, which left him feeling both special and a little concerned. It was hard to tell if it was a good thing, if it meant that Morax relaxed with him or whether it was genuine irritation and dislike. He had to wonder if he grated on Morax, but since they still met up and spent time together, it must not have been too much of a problem. Even Morax probably wasn't polite enough to suffer through his company unwillingly, particularly since he had only just recently gotten to be any good at manners.
It was more befitting of an Archon to act this way, he'd said, turning over a new leaf, trying not to be the brute he used to be. During the war that single-minded focus and lack of etiquette wasn't too much of a problem, but now, trying to get along with his people, his adepti, and the other Archons... Yes, diplomacy seemed wise.
So Morax had bitten his tongue, stayed his hand, and tried to be more wise than quick to action. Barbatos liked him either way, found both sides of him equally appealing and amusing for differing reasons, so it made very little difference to him and their friendship in the end, but.
There was no doubt that Barbatos had changed, too, but he was guilty of internalizing a lot of that change, so perhaps Morax couldn't tell. In a way, Barbatos supposed that that was his goal anyway.
It was curious, though, that for all Morax got huffy with him now, they had never looked at each other as enemies during the war. Sometimes Barbatos felt inclined to ascribe something deeper to that, like an inherent kinship between the two of them, but he also tried to reason that Morax had had his hands full already with Osial, for one thing, among others...
Here they were, though. In the fields right between their two nations, sharing a lunch together and now dessert, for no reason other than to talk. They weren't even really doing much of that, either, to be honest.
It was peaceful, though, and Barbatos thought he might reach for his lyre once they had finished indulging in the juicy apples here, to send sweet notes out onto the wind.
Doing so would give Morax another excuse to keep quiet, though, and honestly, Barbatos sort of missed the sound of his voice, rich and warm.
"Is the line between Mond and Liyue straight up and down, Morax? Or does it follow the curve of something?" The words came from between noises from his chewing, as Barbatos had no problem at all simply crunching through his speech.
Golden eyes swept over to him, looking a bit curious now, and then turned upwards to the sky, considering.
"I have no idea," Morax settled on eventually. Barbatos laughed, quick and short, incredulous.
"How can you not? You set the boundaries of the land, didn't you? What are all those cliffs for if not?"
Liyue was nearly surrounded, by mountains or by ocean, making it hard for mortals to cross its boundaries. Except for, Barbatos had noted, on its eastern side, lined up against Mond. The cliffs here were far smaller, hardly worth being called a cliff at all, and the ground sloped in a gentle way, not too hard for humans to traverse. There was some water separating the countries at points, but nothing that a ferryboat couldn’t handle either.
It was an odd feature of the land, really, in comparison to so many other parts of Liyue, but Barbatos was glad for it. It made trade easier for his people, and he rather liked that Mond was relatively free of difficult terrain. He’d worked hard to chip away at some mountains to make them smoother to climb, possible to do on foot, so that nearly everyone could enjoy the views the heights provided. To have footpaths into Liyue so directly, though, was not something Barbatos had anticipated. Morax, such a fearsome and pragmatic god, would surely have a country with more security, something more difficult to enter for Barbatos’s own citizens. He’d expected a rock hard shell to encase Liyue, especially after Morax had had to subdue so many other gods already.
And yet.
“I saw no particular reason to move most of them,” Morax replied simply, a moment later. “What does it matter if my stone spears protrude from one place or another? Humans are clever creatures, they have made homes and settled where they wish regardless. I actually find many of their ways to navigate quite impressive… I have never refused to assist if they came to me, but they have plenty of ideas on their own. Liyue is secure, and the people flourish. I am glad of it.”
Barbatos blinked, a little overwhelmed by the sudden storm of words after Morax had been quiet for so long, but perhaps he had been storing them up. It was even more odd, though, that he could say such a thing so confidently, despite such a glaring hole in the very security he seemed proud of.
“Is it secure, though?” Barbatos prodded, rolling onto his side in order to give Morax more of his attention, to look at him more easily.
(Truthfully, it was always quite easy to look at him, because Morax was very handsome and Barbatos was painfully aware of that fact.)
“Of course. Azhdaha is in the north, the Chasm lies to the west, and I often stay near the harbor.”
Ever the blockhead, Barbatos thinks, and sighs.
“And to the east?”
It’s Morax’s turn to look taken aback, a slight frown on his face, his eyebrows creased. It’s terribly adorable and makes Barbatos want to reach out to smooth his brow, perhaps with his lips. What an awfully inconvenient thought to have about a friend.
“What have I to fear from the east? You are there.” He delivers it so calmly, so matter of factly… Morax even smiles at the end of his response, subdued as ever, but warm.
It feels a lot like floating, hearing that, enough so that Barbatos actually steals a quick glance down to make sure he’s still touching the grass.
“You’re putting so much faith in me!” Barbatos laughs, fairly certain Morax won’t notice the effort he’s putting into it, trying to remain composed. “You’re far stronger than I am, I think I’ve gotten the better ally out of the two of us.”
Morax shakes his head, smile widening ever so slightly.
“You have done plenty for your people, before they were even truly yours. Your strength is not to be underestimated. I admire the tale you told me. Your ballad moved me to tears, do you not recall?”
Barbatos certainly does. He remembers feeling shocked, alarmed, a little guilty, but also oddly happy and grateful that someone else understood how much the entire revolution weighed on his heart.
Morax hums. “Yes, I certainly felt for you and your cause… Truth be told, it is for that reason, more than your strength, that no mountains stand between our lands. I did not want to cage you and your people, to put up more walls after fighting so fiercely to tear them down.”
He says it so casually, musing on his own behavior, without any fanfare. As if it isn’t striking at the core of Barbatos and his heart, a comment on his very nature.
Freedom.
Unrestrained movement, unmitigated ambition, coupled with respect and appreciation. A perfect blend of what humans could achieve when they put their minds to it and the very best of their hearts.
Barbatos found that his own heart still ached for his lost friend, could still remember his songs and the volume of his laughter, and it was only due to that friend that Barbatos became the god of now. He would live a life for them both, and embody that dear friend’s principles, his determination.
So to have Morax take it into account so simply, to put so much trust in Barbatos while simultaneously showing such care…
Love, undeniable, swirled in his chest.
“Oh,” Morax said suddenly, breaking the silence, turning to look at Barbatos properly. He looked quizzical, docile and curious, which was terribly, painfully cute on him, especially now. “Will I be having you for our Lantern Rite once more this year?”
What was left for Barbatos to say?
“Yes, of course,” he replied, all in a rush of breathless excitement. “I’ll bring the wine,” he continued, laughing, rather hysterical to his own ears.
Morax seemed not to notice.
Of course not.