Work Text:
Xie Keqing was exhausted. This was, unfortunately, a very common state for the Yuheng of Liyue’s Qixing. Her steadfast personal conviction to see her city stand proudly through the next millennia, independent from the gods and the adepti, also left her agenda packed to the brim. There seemed to scarcely be a minute of her life that she was either working, or preparing herself for more. And though she rarely, if ever, found complaint with the nature of her work, she was just as susceptible as any other mortal to the trappings of burnout. No matter how much they love it, one’s toil cannot be the sole focus of their life.
Thankfully, work was the last thing on her mind tonight.
Diluc Ragnvindr is quite understandably concerned when his wife drags herself into his room and promptly collapses into his lap. It’s worrying to see his wife, normally tense and sharp as a razor-wire, flopped against his chest like a puppet with her strings cut. His lips part to deliver an inquiry that dies on his tongue when Keqing murmurs sleepily and curls herself closer to him.
Oh.
Carefully, his hand cups the back of her head, delicately running strands of her amethyst hair through the folds of his calloused fingers. His other arm surrounds her in a hug, wrapping her in warmth. The small, soft way she seemed to fit between his arms never failed to take him by surprise. His wife hums lightly in approval, and, to his almost-astonishment, relaxes. Before Diluc can fully process what’s happening, Keqing is asleep in his embrace. A bittersweet smile spreads across his face, which he gently lays atop her crown. She must be completely worn out. Perhaps that same fatigue is spreading to himself, for suddenly, he finds it very hard to keep his eyes open.
Maybe that’s not such a bad thing, he thinks, as he allows unconsciousness to claim him, his warmth melting into hers.