Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No matter her schedule, when the Adventurers’ Guild ran out of commissions and tasks for her, may that be because the requests were low or she was just quick on resolving things, Lumine was often vacant on a Sunday.

Additionally, something about Sundays pulled her back from committing to more errands. Mornings always sang a serene silence to her, harmonized by the avian friends on rustling trees. The Anemo god blew puffs of cool wind her way, especially on lunch when Teyvat was crested by the sun, and drew them back at night so her fires thrived longer.

Sundays were a nice break, with some of the commission losing colors and beginning to devoid magic with how repetitive they were. Though there was guilt for not liking those commissions, Paimon would reiterate that they never did commissions because they liked the grind—it was all about helping people and the rewards of course.

Speaking of Paimon, she took the opportunity of the downtime for a day of nothing but napping in the teapot, most probably cuddling Qiqi in this hot summer weather. Lumine would have envied the girl, for right now, her skin prickled under the warm sun, but she was at peace where she stood at the moment.

Being an adventurer and an errand girl of three regions, Lumine had explored places of wonders, and during free time like right now, she found herself coming back to her favorites.

The sky sported patches of clouds looking as soft as Razor’s hair, with some clouds being hit by the light from behind and they glowed like the sun itself. Now that the sky was mentioned, it was important for her to broach the magical colors it was sporting. It was a plethora of pastel tones—gradient pink that turned orange, yellow, white and then finally blue as it got closer to the horizon—so soft that if she would close her eyes, tip her head high, and stick out her tongue, then she would taste its sweetness.

There was also the Skyfrost Nail in Dragonspine, which was like a treasure mark in the sky, a white cross among the fog and clouds. Not far from it was the green of the Mingyun Village and its mountains, plus the looming navy gray of Dragonspine made it seem like one was real and one was the shadow. One warm, and one cool.

She smiled. That comparison reminded her of herself and someone else.

A smile she wouldn’t even think about displaying if that certain someone was with her. In fact, her train of thoughts reminded her of all the annoying stuff he did, and now her eyelid was twitching.

“Calm down, Lumine.” She forced air into her lungs, her chest inflating like a dough. “It’s supposed to be your rest day. . .keeping your mind empty.”

She must have hollowed out too much of her mind, because after another hour of wandering, she found herself in Liyue Harbor, unconsciously eyeing Liuli Pavilion and wondering whether he was inside. Then, after another aimless stroll, she ended up listening to Tea Master Liu Su about the story behind Beidou and Haishan, while her eyes trained to the outline of people coming in and out of the Northernland Bank.

Lumine sighed, admitting defeat to the part of her that ~longed~

She missed Childe and his stupid, always-smiling face, that man who’s as attractive as he was deceiving. Internally, she had the urge to berate herself too—why was she ever so charmed by him despite his notoriety? Did she truly believe he was a good guy, just influenced by the corruption of the abyss at a tender age?

Yes. The answer is yes.

Though he celebrated being used by the Fatui, she couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken for him when he told her, Paimon, Xinyan, and Shiki Taisho that there was nothing wrong in being a tool, as if being strong and being recognized for it was the only glory he had ever known or experienced. If only someone could give him true love and affection. . .if only he joined Lumine on her travels and not the other way around. . .

Was that why she kept coming back to him every Monday for sparring?

Was that reason she was now at the entrance of the Golden House despite being twelve hours early for the spar? Lumine sighed again and began setting up a camp nearby where she could wait up for tomorrow. She did not bother taking out the Serenitea pot, for she refused to stir the mansion up with her presence. Here’s to hoping Childe wouldn’t cloud her mind and she would doze off quickly.

That night, the waterfall below her dulled the sharp cricket chirps and the rustle of the leaves. Oftentimes, she avoided a rather loud environment so she could easily be alert if there were suspicious sounds nearby, but the water fell in a way that softened her thoughts and the wind got her drawing her blanket up to her chin, snug.

Lumine drifted off to sleep.

She did not even think she was that tired, however, she slept like a log. Insect bites did not even stir her awake.

Morning came and the sunlight woke her, warmth tickling the skin of her lids. She rolled to her back and sighed, not wanting to open her eyes in case her body wouldn't shake off the clamor for more sleep.

“Morning, girlie.”

She froze.

“You are late for our spar.”

Lumine rolled to the side and away from Childe’s voice. “I’ll pass. I want to sleep more.” Her voice was raw, her shoulder aching from the wrong sleeping position, and she felt drowsy as if she never really slept. Oh, the energy she needed to save Teyvat.

“Well, I won’t let you sleep here.” Before Lumine could protest, Childe was scooping her up, effortlessly, enthusiastically recovering to his full height like she weighed like a paper. “Let’s get into the Golden House at least.”

Tartaglia, in most cases, sent her heart hammering against her chest. But not today. She was not even bothered by this kind of closeness—in fact, she leaned her head against his chest, feeling safer that she could hear his heart under his clothes and skin and bones—thud, thud, thud, as if it was reaching for her. “You won’t kill me in my sleep?” She hummed.

“I won’t.” Lumine felt a kiss on her hair but she was so sleepy that it did not register, but she took note of his voice. . .the tone that rivaled the softness of the pastel sky. “How could I? You are my perfect training partner. I look forward to Mondays.”

“Me too.” She murmured.

“Really?” She heard a smile in his response. In her head, he looked cheeky with a grin right now. “Then we’re as good as in love.”

Lumine. . .kinda agreed, but she wondered if her feelings ran deeper. So she decided not to retort, not that she had the energy to—however, the way Childe stopped walking as if surprised and laughed out loud got her thinking if she mumbled something out before falling asleep.

Because the last thing she heard from him was: “I hope you do not freak out tomorrow if I had a ring to put on your finger.”

Chapter Text

He found her asleep on top of the mountains—right on the cliff next to the Golden House.

Would it be too grandiose of him to think that she was waiting for their spar?

He was trying to scout the area. His fast-paced day suddenly slowed into a complete stop as he recognized that flower on a blonde hair. Of course he went to her, since he was helplessly gravitated to her much to his resistance, and crouched next to where she was lying down, his fingertips playing wayward locks of blonde hair. The longer he studied her features, the more he was convinced that he had fallen for the traveler. It wasn’t the cute kind. Childe was so selflessly, tirelessly, dangerously in love with her that his mind was catering to possibilities of abducting her and keeping her to himself.

He didn’t want to share her with the whole Teyvat, which seemed to be the case.

Eyes closed, with a smirk on his face directed to the sky, Childe pictured Lumine in the abyss with him. He would sit her on a throne of iron taken from every drop of blood he would spill to get her there. She would be worshiped there, with that level of strength that could topple Harbingers from their pedestals. An army would form for her—led by him of course. He would have a dress tailored for her—Oh! He could commission a world-class seamstress or seamster, may that be Ying’er or someone who lived in the most secluded area in Teyvat. Whoever that would be, Childe would find them. He wanted the best for Lumine.

She would sport a blood red dress to match his mask, glittered with silver dusts to match the lights in the abyss, a black cape that would stream behind her everytime she passed by, and stilettos that clip-clopped on the marbled floor.

His mask. . .he would break his mask in two and give the other half to her, exhibiting only one of those bored but prepossessing eyes she usually sent his way, a lazy smile grazing her lips. . .

*Someone tell him it won’t be sexy as hell.*

Childe, with an arm resting over a knee and a leg stretched towards the fire she made before she slept, smiled and recognized his own fantasies and the clear impossibilities of them.

“Of course you wouldn’t like that.”

Lumine had a brother she would scour the Teyvat for, and the abyss was a place of corruption to her. Childe himself was a corruption to her eyes, he was sure. Additionally, while she would most definitely thrive in his lifestyle, it didn’t mean she would join him, not when the Fatui and the abyss played dirty tricks on her and the very people she was close to.

They were the exact opposite, with him constantly searching for feathers to ruffle and with her finding ones to smooth.

*Dangerously in love*

“I don’t think you like me. Not the way I want to be liked.” Childe rolled his shoulders, smiling with glee at the several sparks of light in the darkness that were followed by the groan of machinery. Gusts blew cold so he had to look back at Lumine and secure the blanket under her chin.

Then he rose to his full height.

Skin and flesh one second, in full armored Foul Legacy the next.

“How dare you disturb my traveler.”

His feet were surrounded by pulsing electro, and it lifted him off the ground slowly, tips of his shoes floating in a synchronized way. His cape flapped about, eventually draping the left side of his body because of the wind that seemed to howl along his thundering heart.

The Ruin Guards stomped, two getting close to Lumine, three of them twisting their torsos once to shoot rockets from their backs. He spent one perusing glance at Lumine, wondering if he should rouse her from sleep—for her own safety.

But how could he do that? It was rare to see proof that a beast had its moment of tameness. In that very second, he saw her open palms and found that her fingers were stained purple. This only elicited a maniacal laughter from him as he turned towards his enemies, curling his fingers inside his gauntlets that created clanking metal sounds.

“Looks like you demolished more than one lavender melon, printsessa.”

He brought a hand down in front of him like a guillotine, and violet lighting parried the incoming rockets, forcing them to propel elsewhere like scared bugs.

“Hmmm. . .”

He could do better than that. With another flick of his wrist, he commanded his curtain of electro to split and guide the rockets back to where it came from, like a wave to a surfer, and while he controlled them, Childe zapped through the air, to the other direction, and drove his spear home into another Ruin Guard—it’s eye in particular— that was closest to the traveler. He plunged his blade wrist-deep and forced electro and hydro into the machine’s core for full ruination. And before the Ruin Guard could even whine, he was already circling the other two Ruin Guards, and with him were electro-charged currents that formed a looping ring, like a spring, around them.

Childe cackled. “We’re not so different, you and I.” He disappeared into the thin air so his loops of electric-ridden currents wrung the ruin guards—tighter, tighter, until the water entered and soaked their systems. In no time, they were reduced into a heap of short-circuiting metals right next to a cliff.

Childe hummed as he walked over to the Ruin Guards, then lifted a shoe to topple the machinery over the edge and into the ocean. “But unlike me, you have no desire. I am full of them.”

Desire. Lumine. World domination. Death at the peak of the battle. Death by Lumine.

Just as the air smelled burning metal, carrying around the sound of groaning, sparking machines, Childe finally succumbed to his inevitable destabilization. His armors peeled from his limbs one by one to reveal wafting smoke over his skin. His heart drummed like it was about to explode and felt so big inside his chest that he had to clutch it as a dumb attempt to suppress it. His one-eyed Foul Legacy mask crumbled to dust and cool air hit his face, which was a respite from the pain and exhaustion he was experiencing.

He did not know when he hit the ground, nor when he started seeing red. All he was aware of was that Lumine was next to him—safe. With an arm ridden with tremors, he reached out and grazed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “Wake up, printsesa. I can’t. . .watch. . .over you any. . .more.”

Chapter Text

He didn’t die, though he was sure he would with the way the world spiraled in his vision before he passed out.

But thank the Tsaritsa they were safe.

Childe felt the morning against his skin first, the zeal of the sunlight prickling his cheek. When he opened his eyes, he saw its pink glow splaying on the sky like fingers trying to span the atmosphere. It was beautiful, the marigold glow of the sun swimming after the pink streaks of dawn. Magical.

Yet he couldn’t lay his eyes on it longer than when he looked at Lumine. There was just something very captivating about her face, and Childe would always find himself studying what it could be, like now. Was it the fact that there were stories behind her worry and laughlines? Or the way emotions seemed to be ever so controlled on her face? Or just the arrangement of her features that made her so beautiful?

And always, right before he figured it out, either Lumine would frown at him for gazing into her eyes for too long, disrupting his thoughts, or he would realize that none of then really captured him more than the manner she never backed out of a spar.

Lumine was still sleeping like a log; he had to wonder how many Lavender melons she ate. Unguarded as ever, she had her arms thrown about over her head, legs tangled with the coat he draped on her last night, hair ruffled yet still beautifully framing her small face. Then that flower, reminiscent of the sky, that always got him turning to the sky when he was away and he missed her.

He also wondered if Paimon was worried that she wasn’t back to the teapot. Not that he was complaining—more time with Lumine and more opportunities to ask for a spar or maybe stare at her—but if someone did not check on her last night, she would have been as dead as a doornail.

Childe pushed himself to his feet, groaning at the sudden pain within his abdomen. Only then did he see the blood that caked onto the soil he passed out on. Copper soil and stained stones. Grass tipped with red. He reached under his shirt and found that the wound was sealed now, but it put a red expanse of stain on his clothes, sticky feel on his skin, and it also drew the wolves nearby.

He thought the howling in his head was just a dream.

He crouched next to her and poked her chubby cheek. “Ah, Lumine. I might need my coat back.” It put a smile on his face when she pouted, the color of her lips taken directly from the rosy dawn. “Are you awake?”

She was not, but she twisted to her side, seemingly close to waking up, her eyes rolling underneath her lids. Worried about her spotting her indecency, Childe decided that he needed to attend to himself and his bloody look, unconsciously apologizing to her when he had to take his coat off her legs.

He was just done buttoning up his clothes when she rolled on her back, eyes slowly opening, only to squeeze her eyelids shut right away when she found out the morning was too bright.

“Morning, girlie.”

She froze mid-stretch, and Childe patted himself on his back when he remembered not to stare at her bare legs.

“You are late for our spar.”

“I’ll pass. I want to sleep more.” His knees nearly buckled at the sound of her hoarse voice, uninterested and sexy, his imagination of her as the abyss princess going wild. All of it though was stopped by the sight of her yawning. Sleep was still pretty much in her eyes, and Childe would prefer if she went somewhere safer if sleep would pursue her again.

“Well, I won’t let you sleep here.” Childe scooped her up, his wound protesting, but there was nothing else he would rather do at the moment. Having Lumine close to him was. . .oddly pleasant.

And Childe was not someone who easily felt pleasure from simple things—most times, there needed to be a bloodshed—bones breaking, muscles tearing fiber from fiber, blood as geysers from throats—for him to feel comfortable in a situation. But now, he felt soft, his bloodthirstiness dormant. So when he said “Let’s get into the Golden House at least,” he was surprised at how gentle he sounded.

Even Lumine was shocked, loss for words. She was not even bothered by this kind of closeness—he was glad. He wondered, though, if she could hear his heart under his clothes and skin and bones, because right at this moment, it was roaring in his ears.

What more if she was directly listening to his chest.

His heart was reaching for her.

Would she take it?

“You won’t kill me in my sleep?” She hummed.

“How could I? You are my perfect training partner. I look forward to Mondays.” He answered fast, as if he had practiced this conversation before. Or he was just speaking directly from the heart.

When she said, “Me too,” Childe ended up in a string of conversations with her where it led to him proposing. He did not intend to go to that direction—how could he purposely do that when his mind was occupied by the way Lumine clung to his neck, unbothered by the closeness he didn’t know his body would flourish to.

By flourish, he meant his heart celebrated with drumming sounds, his arms bracing themselves to hold her close, his lips so easy giving out smiles.

But like he said, he ended up proposing. “I’ll buy you a Snezhnayan ring. Teyvat will see you’re my wife, and that will keep them off your back.” And nothing in the abyss nor in Snezhnaya could prepare him from her half-asleep answer.

“I think I do. I want to marry you.” She said it before she completely got back to sleep.

Maybe it was the lavender melon that was speaking. He heard that a person could get so sleepy to the point there was not much difference between the sleepiness it caused and intoxication from wine. Did that idea stop the wildness of his heart?

No.

It made him laugh, not feeling guilty that he got her stirring from her slumber.

“I hope you do not freak out tomorrow if I had a ring to put on your finger.”

What could be the most precious gem he could acquire from Snezhnaya? Or would it be more rare if he scouted the abyss for some crystals? He would make the ring himself, infuse it with hydro inside to remind her that there was some hot water guy who fancied her.

He was so caught up with the possibilities, the way his pulse just punched into his ears, that he missed seeing where he was going.

Yes, they were headed to the Golden House.

No, they were not supposed to fall into the lake next to the pathway.

He gasped as he splashed into the water, the cold enveloping him faster than his arms enveloping Lumine. Silly of him to think he could protect her from the water. But at least he shielded her from the shocking slap of it.

She woke up by then, instinct making her brandish her arm back to summon her blade. Childe called his hydro blade from the air to parry, but Lumine must have realized that he did not intend to do this, with the water he was still wiping from his eyes and mouth, lily pads draped over his hair.

“Ah, Childe!”

“I’m sorry. I—”

She threw her blade back and swam to him, only to unbutton his coat and touch the bloodied spot of his clothes, the one he desperately tried to hide from her. “You are hurt!” Before Childe could stop her, she jumped up to be on her feet and in a fighting stance, and she kept her eyes peeled for any enemies around.

“Lumine—”

“Stay behind me.”

“Ah,” Childe scratched the side of his head. “There isn’t much. . .to hide behind. This is nothing though. I was carrying you to the Golden House and didn’t notice where I was going. We fell.”

“And?”

“That’s it.”

She twisted to him, almost violent with how her eyebrows were drawn. “Where did you get that?”

Childe stood and wrung the hem of his clothes. “It was from last night. I. . .uhhh. . .battled some Ruin guards around the area you were sleeping.” When she sported a shocked face, he tried to keep it lighter. “Thank you for your concern. I definitely enjoyed the part where I was ripping the machines limb by limb and the part where you were feeling my abs just now.”

He also enjoyed when blush crept from her neck to her cheeks before turning around to hide them. “That was not my intention!”

Childe cackled and waddled through the water to get to her. “I know, I just don’t want you to worry. An occupied mind wouldn’t be good for sparring.” He wanted to embrace her from behind as she looked so cold with her hair and clothes dripping, but his touch might not be welcome.

He managed to climb back into the pathway without doing more than grazing his arm against hers, and then he offered his arm to her. “It’s warmer in the Golden House, I think.”

She nodded, but did not take his arm, so he walked onwards, spotting where the sun dotted the sky. He was thinking if it would actually be warmer inside compared to when they just dry their clothes out under the sun when, suddenly, his right palm became occupied. Childe looked down and stared flabbergasted at Lumine’s hand squeezing it tight.

As he twisted to face her, she suddenly found her shoes interesting. “You looked cold.”

Childe's knees were weak—this was something his heart could not contain. Though as difficult as it seemed, he fought the urge to just sink to the ground and hide from her. She, too, seemed uncomfortable about talking about it anyway, so he braced his lungs and powered through the sensation of her palm against his.

He made a couple of tentative paces forward, observing whether his knees could really do the walking. Nope. He sank to the first step of the stairs and sat there groaning. He threw his head back, settled his elbows on to the surface of the next steps, and sighed.

She slid into his vision, frowning but red in the ears, hair falling to frame her small face, cheeks plump as she puffed them out. Beautiful.

And not good for his heart. He shut his eyes.

“Don’t look at me, girlie.”

Lumine tugged his hand, the only time he realized that they were still holding hands, and something warm crawled around his chest learning that she didn’t let go even when he was embarrassed as hell. “This isn’t a big deal, Childe.”

He tugged her down next to him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “Then I can do this. . .Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re cold too.” Though his priority was to keep her warm, being skin to skin with her was an intention too.

He waited for the slap or a drawn sword, pointy end poking his chest, but none of them came. She even leaned against him, her shoulder grazing his ribs. Seconds passed. Heartbeats racing. He thought she didn’t notice, but nothing really escaped from her.

“I can hear your heart, Childe. You like me.”

In his bewildered panic, he pushed her away from him and she slid like she was on ice. “You can’t tell it from that.”

He did sound ridiculous in his ears too so he did not blame her when she laughed. Her slender fingers clutched the cloth on her stomach, knees up as if to keep her tummy ached and it probably did—her eyes closed bordered by tears.

“You sound like a kid.”

He tried to suppress a smile, willing to keep economical with the truth, but failed. He snorted and just pulled her back in a hug, her face perfectly slotting immaculately under his chin. “Heartbeats can’t tell who one likes.”

She sighed, relaxing. “Okay. If you say so.”

Silence was like a forgotten favorite sweater—pleasant and warm. None of them spoke, and none was uncomfortable. Childe was staring into the clear sky and the portion of it where birds flew in a V-shape. Lumine was toying with his vision with her free hand.

“How are we to spar if we date?” He smoothed some stubborn locks on her head.

She picked a blade of grass from the laces of her boots. “Like enemies. Nothing will change.”

His mind tried to gauge whether he could bear to hurt her in spars, but then, it wouldn’t really be fair for him if he held back. Who’s idiot enough to hold back after meeting a highly dangerous, perfect, lovely sparring partner? No one.

After all, it would be a pleasure to be defeated by her.

“I’ll give my all.” He took her hand, bringing it to his lips.

She angled her head towards him, a glowing smile decorating her face. “I shall give all of mine.”

That exchange, to Childe, wasn’t about sparring at all but about the future they would like to take on together.