Archive of Our Own

They say the Uncrowned Dragon Lord isn’t one to dock for long.

They say the Uncrowned Dragon Lord has a heart without bounds.

They say the Uncrowned Dragon Lord has the courage to conquer all the seas of Teyvat.

They say the Tianquan isn’t one for adventure.

They say the Tianquan has no love for finite things.

They say the Tianquan has an ambition that eclipses the seven nations of Teyvat.

The legend begins from the birth of a star. A travelling doctor from Mondstadt delivers a child in a rural village near the shores of Liyue. The child’s cries rip through the skies, heralding the beginning of a new era.

“Lucky little girl, she is,” A plump red-faced man in his forties wipes sweat off his brow, his thinning hair soaked, “Born on Valentine’s.”

This of course, means nothing to a poor rural village in Liyue. Chickens cluck, flapping their wings in a lone futile attempt to take off, before crashing back down for the thousandth time. A rooster crows, the morning on the horizon. A single star twinkles down upon their people, casting down hope amidst the navy blue blanketing the skies and sea.

The father bursts in through the door now, heaving heavy breaths.

“Niangzi, Old Wang told me –”

The mother barely manages a tired huff.

“It’s over, you dolt.”

“Oh!”

The man just registers the presence of the foreign doctor and the crying bundle in his wife’s arms. He beams widely at the first addition to the young family.

“Is it a…”

“A healthy little girl, sir.”

The doctor announces this with no small relief. A premature birth is dangerous, both for the mother and the child.

The father comes forward to shake the doctor’s hand vigorously.

“Thank you, xiansheng!”

The baby howls. A wet mop of dark hair and a crumpled tiny face peek out from the tightly wrapped blankets. A star clings to the throes of the vibrant dawn, the same shade as those pure, untainted scarlet eyes. The father watches in pure awe.

“Let’s name her Beidou, after the North Star,” The father speaks, alas knowing no better than a seafarer’s trade.

Neither poor, uneducated parent knew of any further connotations that came with.

It was neither feminine nor pretty nor traditional and so the mother visibly frowns. But, completely spent from the birth, she acquiesces with a sigh.

“Beidou, it is then.”

Such a brazen name is fitting for how the child screams her arrival to this world. For one that will command the winds and seas. For one that shakes Liyue to the core. For one that leads Liyue to a new age.

A mere six months later, an accompanying star is born to another couple a village away. The day of the Qixi festival comes and goes; young couples cast away their nets– for once not to the waves– and spend their time swimming in crystalline pools, picking flowers and fruits in the fevered summer heat. Long wedded pairs prepare the few feasts of the year, celebrating another year past. By nightfall, fireworks soar into the open skies, drawing a crowd of young and old alike. Amidst the crackling above, comes a tiny life crystallized. Her quiet cries are swallowed by the fireworks, ending with wet sniffles. Cooing over her daughter, the mother flashes an adoring smile at the father gingerly peering over her shoulder, almost like he fears his presence would startle their daughter.

“Do hold her, my love.”

“Me?” The man swallows, his freshly calloused hands trembling.

“Yes, you,” she scoffs gently, “You wield a pen with such grace and yet you fear this?”

“I’m not particularly good…”

The father shakes his head but bends down. The mother guides his hold on their daughter; her white fuzzy head nestles in the crook of his elbow, her delicate features scrunched up, lips part, rich red eyes staring up at him. The father strains to hear her soft gurgles above the shriek of fireworks and people. She does not cry.

Bright white fireworks fizzle as they shoot upwards, dragging long comet tails behind. They scatter and spill across the night sky like ink down a scroll, illuminating the tiny room for a brief second. The baby’s eyes widen in awe, giggles a moment later.

“Ningguang.”

The father says abruptly.

The mother blinks, once, twice.

“The characters ‘condense’ and ‘light’,” the father babbles on, “The light of our lives coalescing on the festival of love. Unlike the fireworks blazing for mere moments, she will shine brighter, longer than them all. She will be loved by us dearly. She will…”

“Hush, my love,” the mother laughs, “You know I’m only a poor fisherwoman. I don’t understand this all.”

Her eyes lid, exhaustion finally catching up to her, “I trust you. That is a beautiful name.”

A beautiful, if unconventional, name it is. And so the child is very much loved by her parents, and even greater by Liyue still. She will light the path for Liyue forward. She will bend the people and adepti of Liyue to her will. All manners of glory will fall upon her name.

They first cross paths beneath moonlight.

Their fates have differed by then.

Beidou has nothing but for her name as a keepsake; her parents lost to the sea they held dear. The amity of her village has worn thin, uncles and aunties unwilling to burden themselves with an extra mouth to feed. Beidou wanders by the water’s edge, a wretched child clothed in the rags of a repeatedly sewn together tunic.

Passing into the outskirts of another village, Beidou instinctively clambers up a fruit tree, already chased far and wide from her origins. By late autumn, most fruits are already plucked, what’s left either a soured crop or rotting on the branches. Maybe Beidou can rip the bark and roots off and chew on that to stave off her hunger.

Night has fallen. There is no one to chase her out. She can dream of more. The sea glimmers invitingly, as always. Beidou swings her legs up from the tops of the tree, revelling in the rush of salty wind. The brief weightlessness sends a thrill of adrenaline up her spine. This is what it’s like to be at sea, she thinks.

A brief flash of silver nearly startles her out of the tree. Beidou locks her knees, her palm and nails digging into the coarse bark. Her breath comes in white puffy sputters.

“Sorry,” a voice chirps, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sounds pretty. Beidou thinks. It’s light and airy and a little girl’s…like her. The voice is attached to someone, silvery and fleeting like moonlight. A girl her own age stares up at her in wonder. Despite this village surely being steeped in poverty like everyone around here, her clothes are clean. Her silver bob of hair is knotted in a neat bow. Beidou’s face heats up in embarrassment. Beidou’s own scarlet eyes meet with another pair of ruby red. Like hers. Beidou likes how they sparkle.

Beidou scowls, from both fear and shame.

“Go away.”

The girl’s eyes glimmer as she poorly hides a laugh behind a hand.

“Why should I? If anything, you’re the new one here.”

Was that a way of saying she’s unwelcome here? Beidou has already heard it in hushed tones when people thought she wasn’t listening. It’s always thrown at her back and accompanied by a lingering eye. At least it doesn’t last long.

Even that girl doesn’t want her here. But I just got here and I haven’t done anything! Beidou wails internally. She doesn’t have the energy to find another place to huddle in for the night.

Beidou’s heart beats painfully slow as she shimmies down the tree.

The girl grabs her hand before Beidou can run.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh.”

Her hand is warm. Her eyes burn with apologetic sincerity.

“Father says it’s mean.”

And the words are beyond her lips without a shred of thought.

“You’re not,” Beidou says numbly.

She is very pretty up close. Beidou decides. She has to be one of those princesses of legends. Her eyelashes quiver like the wings of a crystalfly, her eyes glowing like their cores. Unlike crystalflies, fluttering out of reach when Beidou outstretches her hand, their palms push together, fingers pressing lightly into the back of her hand.

The girl giggles, clearly happy.

“I’m Ningguang. What about you?”

“Beidou.”

Beidou gives up her last and only possession freely. In hindsight, she was perhaps tricked into it, unable to escape the question without being rude. This trade ends with Ningguang bearing her name in mind– the first and only one for many years.

“Beidou. A proud name.”

Ningguang nods her head in satisfaction and Beidou can’t even begin to ask what she means by that. By then, Beidou knows Ningguang is definitely well-learned, even though it’s practically impossible in this tiny village. But, Beidou reminds herself, if a princess like Ningguang is here, then she shouldn’t expect anything less.

“Come with me, Beidou.”

A spellbound Beidou catches herself following Ningguang like an obedient puppy. To a house at the edge, the windows faintly aglow with firelight. All others had long darkened. At this, Beidou’s eyes widen and she digs her heels into the dirt. Nobody wants a dirty beggar child in their home. Even if she was friends with their children.

Ningguang blinks in surprise, then she tugs her hand, a little more insistently.

“Beidou, it’s alright. My parents are asleep.”

Somehow, this fills Beidou with envy and no less dread.

“But-”

“They’d sooner discipline me than you, Beidou.”

Ningguang’s eyes twinkle.

“They know I’m always up to something.”

And Beidou lets Ningguang guide her again.

They tiptoe into the house. There are barely three rooms. A tiny cot is tucked in on the far end of the living room, a space carved out for Ningguang herself. A shelf of paper-bound books are bathed in firelight, inked scrolls in a neat stack. A wooden door is left a crack open, two figures huddled on a thin bed. Ningguang pushes Beidou to the base of a flickering fire, sat her on the warmed stone. She picks up a thin blanket next to her and dusts it off, placing it around Beidou’s shoulders. Ningguang’s cot is bare.

Beidou says, “Wait, I can’t pay you for any of this!”

Ningguang just throws a glance at her as she grabs something off the tabletop.

“I wouldn’t charge my guest, Beidou. That’d be awfully impolite.”

A pastry with residual warmth is thrust into Beidou’s hands. Sauce dribbles into her hand. It has cooled but Beidou’s mouth waters at the aroma. That…had to be for Ningguang, right? Meat is hard to come by at the best of times. Beidou doesn’t touch it, anxiously watching Ningguang.

Ningguang smiles at her, “Would you want tea or water with that, Beidou?”

It’s for her. Beidou feels like she might tear up. She swallows.

“Water…um, please.”

Ningguang laughs at that. Before long, water is at a boil. A cup is set in front of Beidou. Ningguang sits by her, nursing her own cup of water. She takes a couple of slow sips.

Ningguang cups her cheek in her hand as she adds thoughtfully, “Charging mora for open warmth, hm?”

Beidou has bitten off a chunk of mora meat by now, cheeks stuffed full of pastry and meat. All she manages is a muffled hm?

Ningguang smiles and shakes her head.

Beidou licks the sauce off her hands and lips, already missing the taste. Beidou is warm and full for the first time in a long while. Ningguang has her knees drawn up to her chest, her chin resting on them. She palms the pebbles before the fire, playing with them. She looks small, now. Beidou peels off a corner of the blanket, draping it around Ningguang instead.

A small laugh bubbles from Ningguang. She presses close to Beidou, her head leaning on her shoulder. Beidou faintly feels how cool Ningguang is, a surprise when she is better clothed and warmer just minutes ago. Beidou leans into her too.

Their fates are hopelessly, everlastingly entwined.

Ningguang wakes up alone, tightly wrapped in her blanket. The first thing she feels is her mother ruffling her silver hair.

“You did well watching the fire. Thank you, my dear.”

Ningguang stifles a yawn as she bobs her head. The fire has died out a while ago, leaving dark, glowing embers. The cups are put away. The wrapping for the pastry discarded. Was all that a dream? She really did like that handsome girl…Beidou. Ningguang’s cheeks grow a flustered heat. Her stomach growls in protest, affirming the night before.

A hand is put to her forehead.

“Ningguang, are you sick?” Her mother pauses, “I don’t feel a burn…”

Ningguang fidgets in place, slightly mortified.

“I’m well, mother.”

Her mother ruffles her hair again, smiling down at her.

“Rest well, my dear. Thanks to you, your father slept well last night.”

Ningguang glows with the praise. Her mother simply chuckles.

“I’m going out to fish. When your father wakes up, you two can fetch some kindling again.”

Ningguang steals out of the house right after her mother leaves. The sky is still a navy blue, the sun not completely breaking from the horizon just yet. Shadows hang long on the small village. It’s quiet. Ningguang cranes her head to and fro. Ningguang is even tempted to yell out Beidou’s name, even if she is afraid of waking her neighbours. She wants to find Beidou. Needs to know this isn’t a strange dream of hers. Oh, she can’t miss her already, can she?

Beidou pops her head from behind a tree, cheerily waving at her.

Those bright eyes, that grin, that wild mop of dark hair. It’s her.

Ningguang scrambles to Beidou’s side. She wants…she wants something as recompense, for making her worry for Beidou. She grabs Beidou in a tight hug. To which Beidou frantically returns, arms going everywhere. She pinches Beidou’s waist and that’s enough to elicit a yelp from her. Hmph. Serves her right for leaving her.

“Um, Ningguang?”

“Payment,” is her answer.

Beidou doesn’t stay. She needs to find food, a rarity as winter grows ever harsher. They bid their farewells soon enough. They both know it might be their last. To anyone else, this is but a fleeting encounter; lily pads floating by each other, parting by mere ripples. They are children, after all. Memories locked and left with only each other.

Winter invades. Spring unfurls. Summer flourishes.

And they meet again.

Beidou thrives in a village Downriver. She learns to fish, to sail a little boat of her own, to read the skies; all rather impressive for a child not even approaching schooling age. The village chief praises her as being one with the sea – Beidou feels it’s more like the sea creatures somehow throw themselves into her net. She never does forget her pretty princess, always venturing further from her little village.

It’s a terribly sunny day. Beidou paces herself, taking a few sips of water from a leather flask. A small bundle of fish lay at her feet, enough for her meals and some left over for drying. A flat piece of bread rests in her pocket– she saved breakfast. She’s near Wangshu Inn today. Papers are spread out onboard, rough sketches depicting Liyue’s shoreline, dotted with Beidou’s own annotations. Beidou makes quick work of marking down where she is. When she’s done, Beidou rolls them up and tucks them carefully away.

A glow onshore draws Beidou’s eyes. Sunlight bounces off a figure at a stall, not so far from Wangshu Inn. Beidou squints. She’s small against the travellers, researchers, adventurers, whoever’s passing into Liyue. Beidou strains to hear them, over the slap of waves against her boat. Bits and pieces float over, a sweet light voice she’d always remember. Beidou crushes the agitation in her chest. She rows closer and docks her little boat right then and there.

The crowd has dispersed already, off to Wangshu Inn. A faint clinking of mora is the only sound as the girl slips the coins in a pouch. Beidou’s throat is dry.

“Ningguang?”

The girl whips her head around at the call. And it’s her.

Ningguang’s mouth drops open and for a second Beidou is terrified. What if she’s forgotten her? What if she didn’t want to see her? What if-

“Beidou.”

And Ningguang smiles, all bright and as pretty as ever and Beidou can’t help but rush over and grab her in a hug.

Ningguang is a bit lighter than she remembers. Beidou doesn’t remember Ningguang being so pale either. But she’s smiling and her arms wrap around Beidou. A comforting scent of glaze lilies fill the air. Beidou misses this, misses her.

Beidou lets go first, her hands on Ningguang’s shoulders. Beidou feels them jut through the fabric. Ningguang is still smiling but there’s a watery glint in her eyes.

“You look well, Beidou.”

“A village chief from Downriver lets me stay with him. I’m good now.”

Ningguang nods. Beidou finds that she can’t say any more than that, not when Ningguang looks like this.

“Ningguang…are you…um…”

As always, Beidou struggles with words around Ningguang. Something’s wrong, Beidou knows, but Ningguang won’t talk about it. She wants to help, like Ningguang helped her.

Ningguang’s stomach growls. Ningguang flushes a bright pink.

Beidou brightens up.

“Are you hungry? I’ve got a couple fish!”

A small, sad smile tugs at Ningguang lips.

“Beidou, I can’t pay for that.”

That confuses Beidou even more. Didn’t Ningguang just make money selling those fruit? Beidou doesn’t dwell on it.

“Do you have lunch with you, Ningguang?”

Ningguang slowly shakes her head. She bites her lip.

“Then share with me! We’re friends! At best, you’ll owe me a favour!”

Beidou doesn’t wait for her answer, already setting up a fire. Soft footfalls follow her a moment later. Ningguang bends down and collects twigs. Blades of grass itch, the occasional stones stingingly hot, dirt sticking to their soles. Both girls are barefoot, the mark of children from a fishing village. Beidou doesn’t know how to lighten the mood. She does try though.

Beidou isn’t the best at cooking, this she warns her friend. Even the village chief choked on her fully spiced fish! This brings a tiny chuckle from Ningguang as their fish roast on the spit. Ningguang finally tears her gaze away from the fire, eyes watering, not from the smoky flames or the too bright sun.

Beidou panics.

Ningguang is dragged into an embrace. Beidou rocks them back and forth, as if she were still on the sea, abiding by the push and pull of the waves. Ningguang sniffles into her shoulder. Every now and then, a sob breaks free and is quickly swallowed back.

“Ningguang…” Beidou squeezes her, “Hey, don’t cry…”

It’s too hot, far too hot, with the sun beating down on them, the fire at their side and their own body heat thrown into the mix. Sweat pearls and rolls down Beidou’s forehead and neck. A heated, damp patch grows on Beidou’s tunic. And yet, Beidou holds Ningguang against herself.

In the end, it’s Ningguang that chooses to face her again. Beidou doesn’t see her cry; only a damp face glistening with both sweat and tears, and the edge of her eyes reddening. The neat bow in her silver hair has loosened, her lips red from being bitten down on.

“My father is sick, Beidou.”

Ningguang’s voice is quiet.

Beidou understands immediately. That’s where all the mora is going to.

“You have to eat,” Beidou says. That’s not up for debate. Ningguang registers the fierceness in Beidou’s eyes.

“I’ll fish and come by every day. I can even bring back some for Auntie and Uncle!”

Beidou slams her fist against her chest as a promise. Her eyes burn with how bright they are.

Ningguang almost forgets how to breathe. A spark sears in Ningguang’s chest. It’s not a promise that everything will be alright, no but it’s enough. She wants Beidou to stay with her.

“Ones who break their contract will suffer the wrath of the rock.”

Beidou stares at her blankly.

“… is that from Rex Lapis?”

Ningguang dissolves into a peal of giggles. As children of Liyue, had she not heard this sworn promise at least once? But Beidou is right. This is not a matter between their patron god, no matter how powerful their Archon is. No, this is between them and only them.

“That doesn’t matter, Beidou.”

It truly doesn’t.

“I trust you.”

Their fish end up a little bit burnt. Neither of them mind.

Some argue that in the land of Teyvat, visions are a twist of fate. A mark of the gods. Deemed worthy of all beyond understanding. For them, it is merely an accessory to their power.

The true change in trajectory comes when they are both still young.

A calling they unknowingly answered.

Ningguang feels faint under the hot rays of the sun, her mouth working faster than her brain can catch up. The metallic scent of mora clings to her hands after a while. Sips of water don’t do much to alleviate how parched she is. Ningguang really needs a break soon; she’s clinging on purely due to will.

“Ning!” Beidou collides with her.

Beidou frowns at her appearance.

“Again Ning?”

Ningguang thinks it isn’t fair, how strong Beidou is even at this age. Beidou does all but drag her into a shallow pool, still in view of her stall. Her large bamboo basket– one almost her height– is brought over too. Ningguang kicks up her feet, drawing forth tiny waves. The water stings. Cuts and scrapes litter her feet. Ningguang shuts her eyes, lets the cooling sensation overcome the slight burn. Her shoulders ache too. At least the bloody patch there has long healed. Honestly, the shock of it was more the reason for her crying. The straps of the basket have finally smoothed out from use, the bamboo slivers no longer digging into her clothes or skin.

Beidou waves a fish on a stick at her, coming to join her. Beidou makes good on her word. She comes by without fail, a fish or two in hand. Ningguang cleans her hands in the pool. The metallic scent makes her slightly ill. Beidou plops down next to her.

“Beidou, come with me to Liyue Harbour.”

“Huh?”

That’s the big city everyone in Liyue dreams of going to. That includes Ningguang and…hopefully Beidou. But that’s not what she’s come to ask today.

Ningguang allows herself a small smile. She jiggles the mora pouch she always keeps on herself. She is comforted by the weight.

“You mean you’ve saved enough? That’s great news Ning!”

“Mother asked me to make the trip with the village uncles and aunties.”

Ningguang frowns. She doesn’t like the way they whisper about her and her father.

“I’d like to go with you rather than them.”

Beidou scratches the back of her neck. Her face is flushed, for once. Ningguang likes it.

“I don’t think I can sail my boat that far.”

Ningguang stifles her laughter. She smacks Beidou’s shoulder.

“We’re not sailing there. We can walk, you sea-bound fish.”

Ningguang points to the road signs.

“Follow them and we get to Liyue Harbour.”

Beidou pouts, “I knew that.”

Ningguang does know that it’s easier said than done, what with them both being barefoot. Beidou is thinking the same, with the way her eyes dart to Ningguang’s feet. Walking long distances barefoot isn’t new to either of them though.

“Won’t it hurt, Ning?”

Ningguang scoffs at the question.

“I am not some fragile princess, Beidou. I will live.”

Somehow, Beidou grows even more flustered at that response. She instead stuffs the fish in Ningguang’s face to shut her up.

Dawn has not fully broken when they meet up. Beidou doesn’t carry much with her; a few extra pieces of flat bread, salted fish, water. The village chief also spared her some mora, although Beidou won’t use any. A wide-rimmed bamboo hat sits on Ningguang’s head. It slips over her brow, near falling off whenever she tilts her head too fast. Ningguang’s giant bamboo basket is weighed down with her wares. They were only supposed to visit Liyue Harbour for the day, weren’t they? Ningguang shifts her weight from foot to foot.

“Ning?” Beidou gestures to the basket, “What’s all that?”

“Fruit,” Ningguang pauses, “I’m looking to see if I can sell the rest.”

“Trying to start another business?”

Ningguang bobs her head. She doesn’t add much, lost in her thoughts.

They are oddly quiet through the trip. Going to Liyue Harbour is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, they should both be happier, shouldn’t they? Beidou fights down the anxiety as they travel down a largely dark path. Beidou squints past the dimly lit road, on the lookout for stray hilichurls, wary of the treasure hoarders near Guili Plains, mind their footing- sharp stones hurt. The Millelith stationed at outposts stare at them under torchlight. Beidou feels her skin squirm under their eyes. Ningguang, to her credit, simply walks up to them to sell her fruit and confirm directions.

They make frequent stops; they rest their feet in rivers and pools. Ningguang pulls out some apples and sunsettias for them to munch on. Beidou shares the bread. It’s surprisingly filling, a welcome change from rice and fish. The sun rises over the horizon. Beidou catches a glimpse of Ningguang’s expression from the side. She is tight-lipped. Her eyes are scorching. She’s very pretty. Ningguang’s white hair takes on a myriad of colours from the morning light. Ningguang cups water in her hands, letting rivulets drip down. Beidou can’t help but laugh to herself; why is Ningguang playing with water like a child?

She notices Beidou staring, of course.

“What are you looking at, Beidou?”

“You playing,” Beidou grins easily. It’s really, really cute.

Ningguang doesn’t seem to think so, by the way she splashes water in Beidou’s face. Unluckily for Ningguang, Beidou always wins in a physical brawl.

Beidou ends up on top of Ningguang, drenched, but having Ningguang’s hands pinned. Ningguang struggles in her grasp before ultimately realizing it’s futile. Beads of water drip down onto Ningguang’s face. Ningguang looks away with a groan.

“Let me go.”

Beidou obliges her pretty princess, of course.

Ningguang pushes Beidou’s chest with a laugh, “You win, you brute.”

“Ha, you started it.”

Ningguang thinks back, then flushes pink. She mumbles something underneath her breath. Beidou chuckles good-naturedly.

“Did you curse me Ning?”

Ningguang rolls her eyes.

“Of course not, Beidou.”

Something shifts in their trip after that.

Liyue is coloured in wonder, from unending plains to rolling hills. Beidou’s head swims with how big everything is. Ningguang fairs better, by the way she still approaches hostels to sell her fruit. Ningguang also picks up sweet flowers, silk flowers and star conches along the way. She stares longingly at random rocks they pass by, a sight that leaves Beidou a little confused but she can’t do anything about those boulders.

While Ningguang barters with the hostel owners, Beidou decides to help her, picking out pretty flowers and rocks. They are all gifted to Ningguang, except for one Beidou hides behind her back. Beidou’s hand tightens, pinching the stem of the flower. Ningguang gives her a quizzical glance.

“Don’t laugh, Ning,” Beidou warns her.

Ningguang nods. Beidou lifts the brim of her bamboo hat. Archons, her hand is shaking.

Beidou tucks the largest, puffy, pink silk flower in Ningguang’s hair. The sweet scent fills the air between them. That earns her a brilliant flush.

“I could have sold that,” are her first words.

Beidou hmphs.

“What are you, a mora weasel?”

Ningguang pretends to look cross but it doesn’t work, giving way to a giggle before the expression can even solidify.

“Beidou,” Ningguang’s lips are turned up in a shy smile, “Thank you.”

Beidou’s chest swells. They hop up the giant marble steps to Liyue.

By the time they reach Liyue Harbour, Ningguang’s load has considerably lightened.

It’s midday when they find their way to Bubu Pharmacy. The sun glares at them but it’s not nearly as harsh as the ones the people give them. The Millelith are less nice than the ones they meet along the way, shooing Ningguang away before she even gets close to them. Beidou grits her teeth. Beidou comforts herself that the pharmacy is near Yujing Terrace, where all the rich people are. Not everyone is that mean. Hopefully.

Ningguang presses herself against Beidou, she too growing wary and tired. At the top of the stairs, looking more like a grandiose palace than anything, jade tiles glimmering in the sunlight, is Bubu Pharmacy.

Ningguang mutters, “Is that a hut to rich people?”

The name of the pharmacy, Bubu, she explained to Beidou, was a play on words so it sounded funny. Hut was the last character. Beidou is inclined to agree with Ningguang. How is that ‘hut’ bigger than Beidou’s entire house?

At any rate, they step inside. Beidou’s bare feet itch on the carpet. The both of them can barely reach the countertop. The man working there stops for a brief moment.

“Are you two children lost?”

Ningguang presses her lips together then rises as tall as she can. A string of words fall from her lips. Probably the illness and herbal medicine, Beidou guesses.

The man blinks at them.

“May I see your prescription please?”

Ningguang fishes a folded piece of paper from her mora pouch.

The man takes it from her hands. For a moment, Beidou worries he wouldn’t give it back. But he just frowns and reads it.

“Little girl, this costs…”

Ningguang pours out a handful of mora. He watches them, slowly, warily.

“That’ll be enough to cover a week’s worth of dosage. I’d recommend taking the full month’s.”

Ningguang bites her lip at that. Worry flashes on her features for the first time. Beidou squeezes her hand. A boy from behind the counter snatches the paper up, reads it through once and laughs. He’s slightly older than they are, a few inches taller than them. Ningguang glares daggers at him.

“Baizhu!” The man groans.

“A week is enough to see results,” Baizhu says, “I handle the medicine. I should know.”

“You’re the yaotong– apprentice here?”

“Exactly miss!” Baizhu smiles at Ningguang, “You may repay this favour at any time!”

Ningguang eyes him. Beidou gripes. At least he’s friendly.

The transaction goes by smoothly. Mora changes hands. Ningguang slips the herbs in her basket. She gives a thankful nod to Baizhu who cheerily returns it. Beidou tightens their handhold. They leave without looking back. Baizhu’s words are carried by the breeze.

“Come now, there’s no need to skin the fat from these poor folks.”

Ningguang’s lips thin again. This time, it’s Ningguang that drags Beidou onward into a marketplace.

They are surrounded by people again. They don’t mind them as much though. Perhaps not minding them isn’t right, they are outright ignoring them, pushing past them, like they can’t even see them. Ningguang stumbles from a particularly hard shove. Beidou holds her steady. Ningguang links her arm with Beidou awkwardly, as if she’s afraid to lose her.

There are stalls selling all sorts of wares. People from different nations have gathered here, importing things the duo haven’t even seen before. Ningguang turns a curious eye to them. But she ultimately chooses to stick close to Beidou instead.

“Ning…” Beidou says but doesn’t know how to continue.

“I’m treating you, Beidou.”

Beidou blinks.

“I have some mora left over. It’s time I thanked you.”

Ningguang’s words are firm. Beidou can’t really protest, when her mouth waters at the spicy flavours emanating from the food stalls. Beidou hopes it’s cheap. She doesn’t want to be a burden to Ningguang… or anyone else, really.

A large, burly man working one of those stalls waves the two ragged children over. Ningguang cautiously steers them toward him. Her eyes practically shine with distrust.

“Where are your parents?”

“They sent us further ahead.”

Ningguang bluffs naturally. Her arm tightens around Beidou’s, willing her not to say anything. Beidou follows. She likes the man better than Baizhu though.

“Ah, is this your first time in Liyue Harbour?”

Ningguang nods. Her hat does slip off this time. Beidou catches it, checks if Ningguang’s flower is still in place, and hands it back to her. Ningguang grips the rim of the hat. She betrays a small sigh and continues holding it.

“Would you two like to sit?” He gestures to the wooden stools and round tables set in front of his small stall, “Call me Uncle Mao.”

“Thank you!” Beidou answers for them both. She grins and takes Ningguang’s hand– Don’t worry– leading them to a table.

“Choose something from the menu! It’s on the house! As a welcome from Liyue Harbour!”

“We can pay.”

Ningguang orders for them both. A large bowl of boiled fish– a specialty black-perch stew– sit on their table. Beidou scarfs it down with no problem. The fish is packed with chili flakes. Her tongue explodes with spice, leaving a nice tingly feeling. Beidou loves it. Ningguang nibbles at the fish, and even then picking a piece up with her chopsticks, running through a bowl of water before biting down. She absently watches Uncle Mao work.

A steamer is then set onto their table, courtesy of Uncle Mao. Ningguang blinks up at him. There are more than a few people seated down. Uncle Mao should be busy serving them instead. He smiles, bending down so he is closer to her eye level.

“This is on the house, okay kiddo?”

Ningguang avoids looking at him.

“The food is good, sir.”

He laughs heartily, his eyes crinkling. Ningguang relaxes, if for a bit.

“Thank you but it’s not to your tastes, is it? I try to make this place welcome to everyone. Have this, okay?” Uncle Mao says, “Don’t worry, there’s no contract, no favour to this. I’m the stall owner, if anything, the fault lies with me.”

He near calls out the last part, for all his customers to hear. If it came to a court of law, they could all testify for Ningguang. The people cheer, evidently regulars of his.

“Thank you.”

Ningguang’s voice is soft but it’s audible.

He chuckles, leaving them be.

Beidou says between bites, “I like him.”

A sense of warmth surges up in Ningguang’s chest, “I do too.”

Their arrival to Liyue Harbour isn’t as grandiose as one would have you believe. They slip under Rex Lapis’ eyes, with neither his love nor blessing, a burden placed instead on their shoulders.

Nothing lasts.

Beidou should know that better than most. She doesn’t. She thought herself lucky for finding Downriver. She thought she could have a home. She thought she could be loved. Beidou screws her eyes shut, trying really really hard to fight back the heat there. Her ears are still ringing, buzzing with phantoms of a village’s worth of voices.

They hate her.

She cursed them.

Starved them.

Killed them.

It’s all her fault.

She…she needs to find food. There are fruit trees, right? Were they ripe now? Beidou turns her head from side to side. Where is she?

She fled in some direction, never looking back.

The soles of her feet hurt.

She breathes. Dark stains follow her footsteps.

Somehow, it’s already night.

Ningguang walks to and from Liyue Harbour regularly, selling her wares as she goes. In the harbour, her mora meat is breakfast and sometimes lunch for a small crowd of customers. On the roads to Liyue, her flowers, shells, starconches are souvenirs for good-natured adventurers. She collects as much as she sells. On good days, she scales mountaintops for Qingxin and violetgrass or wades between marshland for horsetail. Bubu Pharmacy pays well. It is hard, taxing work.

But nothing is truly a hindrance when there is mora to be made.

It’s the philosophy Ningguang clings to, that tides her through life in Liyue Harbour.

Her feet are calloused from walking around, barefoot no less. It hurts– Ningguang admits to herself- it does no good to lie. But she can’t justify spending her hard-earned mora on shoes that she will either wear out or outgrow. On better days, the image of a floating house comes to Ningguang’s mind, a distant dream that she doesn’t need to set foot on ground again. She shuffles the fantasy away. Perhaps one day.

Now, the weight of her mora pouch grounds her.

It’s the only thing that she can count on, after all.

Well…there is Beidou. She hasn’t seen her for a while. After the move, her settling in, working odd jobs for scraps of mora, figuring out what trade suited her best, they simply haven’t crossed paths. Has she made another unconscious trade? Beidou for mora and a life in Liyue Harbour? Isn’t that an unfair contract? She swallows a lump in her throat.

Ningguang sees her. She doesn’t know what’s Beidou doing, this late at night, so far from Downriver. Beidou meanders around, a shadow under the curved moon. She doesn’t notice her.

Ningguang’s heart pounds.

Ningguang sprints to her, ignoring how awkward her movements are, how her feet hurt, how her wares might be destroyed. She hugs Beidou from behind. Her bamboo basket digs into her back. Beidou attempts to fight her off with a yelp. Ningguang holds tight, overpowering her for once. A few tears slip past her lashes.

“Beidou, it’s me.”

“Ning?”

She’s just Beidou.

Ningguang clutches her, her hands clamp around her waist, like she’s her most precious ware that she will ever have the pleasure of handling. Silver hair slips over her shoulder, tickles her bare neck. Ningguang’s sweet scent surrounds them, in a little bubble of their own. Ningguang says her name with such longing.

“I’m just Beidou.”

That comes out in a pathetic whimper. Beidou can’t find the strength to push her away. She’s selfish, she thinks, for wanting to bask in this warmth. She will curse Ningguang too. Beidou repeats that singular phrase.

“I’m just Beidou.”

She can’t help it.

“Ning…I…I hurt people Ning. I cursed the village. I cursed your father. I’ll curse you. Ning…”

If possible, Ningguang grabs her tighter. Something wet and hot falls on her neck. Beidou knows she’s crying too.

“Hush. Now, I never took you for an idiot, Beidou. And, you’re not. Tell me what foolishness your village has cooked up this time.”

Ningguang’s voice is wobbly but she is so self-assured, as always. Beidou always trusts her. Ningguang will understand. Beidou’s heart throbs. Ningguang isn’t just a pretty princess of old. She’s their legendary hero.

Ningguang actually sees red. The same red of her eyes that people whisper all too gladly about. For the first time, she believes there might be some truth to those rumours when rage courses so violently through her body.

Ningguang tears a piece of cloth off her clothes to bandage Beidou’s feet. Ningguang empties her basket of her precious wares, keeping only her mora pouch on her. It’s only another negotiation, she tells herself, even if her heart throbs both from both fear and anger.

“Beidou, I’m leaving my wares with you. I need to make a visit. Is that alright?”

Beidou grabs onto Ningguang’s sleeve, sullen at the wares pooled before her.

“Don’t go.”

Ningguang stills. She can never deny Beidou anything, can she? She tries.

“Beidou,” she forces urgency into her voice, “I will return. I swear by Rex Lapis’ name. I will make a contract with you with him as our witness. Please believe me.”

Beidou sluggishly stares at her wares, as if they are what convince her the most.

“I will take all of these if you don’t come back, Ning.”

Ningguang gives her a squeeze. She combs through Beidou’s messy hair with an affectionate smile. Beidou is coming back to her.

“And I will fully condone it, even if I starve tomorrow.”

Beidou comes home late. Flickering lamplight illuminates their tiny apartment. The candle is halfway melted, the wax pooling at the base. Ningguang is slumped at the table, a book in hand. A wok is on the stove. She waited for her, again.

Beidou gently pries the book from her hand, slipping it in with their collection of books and maps. Her maps. Ningguang somehow got all her stuff from Downriver that night. She can never thank her enough. Beidou gathers Ningguang into her arms. Beidou notes that Ningguang is slight, thinner than she should be, that Beidou has no problems carrying her to bed.

“Ning…” Beidou is half-tempted to scold her. Did she even eat?

Beidou lingers at her side a little longer, draping their thin blanket over her, tucking her in. Eventually she stands. Beidou is back on the other side of their apartment, reading books on navigation, heating her dinner up. She really did want to come back early tonight. Only their nights were shared together, both being busy with their respective jobs during the day. Her boss insisted the dockhands finish loading before the night– a storm is forming.

Beidou eyes the leaky roof, almost in a challenge. They’ll lose sleep over this, no doubt. Beidou clears her bowl faster. She undresses and readies for bed. Ningguang burrows into her side as usual. Beidou shifts to ease herself on her arm. Ningguang makes a small disgruntled noise at the change in position. Beidou strokes her hair to comfort her, unable to hold back a snort. What are you, a cat?

She will probably lord it over Ningguang’s head when she wakes. If she remembers…

The pattering of the rain wakes her first. Then it’s the cold raindrops flying through the window. Their neighbours’ lights come on, panicking over the water soaking in. Shit, the books. Ningguang is snuggled against her, unwilling to move. Beidou pries Ningguang off of her. Beidou grabs all the paper-bound materials and stuffs them under their bed, the only place where they’d remotely be dry. A letter slips from the pages of a book, weighed down with mora. Beidou freezes. Ningguang…has been sending money home? That same little mora weasel? Beidou looks over her shoulder. Ningguang is still sleeping as if she were passed out.

Beidou puts the letter back in place. She shouldn’t ask. She figured Ningguang had a falling out with them after coming right here from Downriver. If Ningguang talks, she’ll listen. Beidou packs the rest away. She crawls back into bed. Settling back down, she can’t help but ruffle Ningguang’s hair. Beidou eyes the stupid roof where a wet patch is growing. She shields Ningguang with her body. At least Ningguang deserves a good night’s rest.

Ningguang prays for Beidou to return.

The sky is clear tonight, with an array of stars too. The Beidou constellation shines especially bright. Ningguang fixates on the horizon, where the sky meets the sea. No matter how hard she looks, there is no sign of a ship returning to Liyue’s docks. Familiar boats rock in place, safely tethered to shore.

Ningguang takes off her heels. For the first time in a long while, she is barefooted on Liyue soil. Or, she thinks, only slightly wry, on wood weathered by the sea. Ningguang sits, dangling her feet off the edge of the dock. The dark sea surges beneath her. She kicks her feet up like a child would; she can’t ever reach the water, wash the pain of those old scars away. The spray tickles her face, like the caress of a certain lover could.

It was only supposed to be three months. The whole Crux fleet lost contact with land six months ago.

She remembers the day the Millelith announced them missing. That was exactly when Ningguang lost sleep. She remembers how lanterns were lit for them a week after the sombre news, hoping to guide the spirits of the lost sailors home. Ningguang remembers how she watched them go out one by one, dying completely when dawn broke.

She visits the docks at night. One to avoid the fines of loitering– of which she is sure she technically incurred. The other to avoid word of her weakness spreading. She is aiming to be the Tianquan. No one can suspect her of a broken heart, of a lover lost at sea. Even if that is the truth.

A sob is locked in her throat. Ningguang looks to afar, to Beidou’s stars, hoping to dissuade the heat brewing behind her eyes. Love is finite. How can it not be so, when Ningguang trudges on without her? Ningguang selfishly knows she won’t give up her dreams here. Perhaps a true lover would have joined her long ago. The closest she can get to Beidou now, is to reach for the cold stars in the sky, to become one with the title of Tianquan. The sky will be her abode, forevermore. Ningguang casts a last lingering look at the dark sea that engulfed her all.

And she thinks, how bitterly salt tastes, when it floods the senses.

Glory comes from their years apart. Perhaps that is where most stories end, with their tales of success and a love beyond envy. But their lives go on.

Two years ago, the Crux fleet sailed off from Liyue Harbour. Now they have returned, the corpse of Haishan in tow.

Beidou eyes the thing in the direction of Liyue Harbour. Electro fizzles from her fingertips, a mark of agitation that she can’t quite control yet. It’s been a long while since she set her sights on home. To be greeted with…whatever that is, isn’t a pleasant view. As the crew draws closer, she can see that’s a building directly hovering above Liyue Harbour. A monument to another rich person’s arrogance.

That’s the one thing she doesn’t like about the City of Commerce.

She’s sure the Millelith have been sent for, with how the crowds push to the docks. Beidou grimaces. She never liked dealing with them. Too many arbitrary rules and restrictions for her taste. Now that she had a crew under her, she was the one responsible for bureaucracy. The Ministry of Civil Affairs won’t like her.

Apparently, leviathans are not on the list of approved products for trade. That is the first thing she is informed of. The second is from a soft-footed blue-haired secretary with what looks to be horns on her head. Beidou will never admit that she got the shock of her life when she turned around and the woman was just there, smiling demurely.

“The Tianquan wishes to see you, Captain Beidou of the Crux Fleet.”

The highest one of the Seven Stars summoned her.

Beidou pulls a face to hide the shock. She’d expected attention for that act but not from the topmost ranks of Liyue. Killing a leviathan does wonders for rising up in high society.

She tells Juza to unload. Mora Grubber doesn’t get to sell anything just yet. Until she figures out who this damn Tianquan is and what reach they have. Hopefully, they’re another paper tiger, like all those others that have come into power over the years. If not, Beidou might gain a miniscule of respect for them. Beidou will still have the upper hand though. All those years with Ningguang can’t have been for nothing, right?

Gossip flutters about the city. Of the new Uncrowned Dragon Lord that slayed the beast in one fell swoop. Beidou is flattered, with all the respectful looks that come her way. She can’t really say she likes it though. The secretary hurries in front of her, as if she’s got no time to spare.

“Uh, miss-”

“Ganyu.”

At this, Ganyu turns around, offering a polite smile. Her footfalls underneath don’t stop.

“Ganyu,” Beidou says, “You don’t have to rush.”

Ganyu’s cheeks pink.

“Oh, am I going too fast? I’m sorry, Captain Beidou. I realize it’s been a long voyage. I should be more considerate-”

“Woah, woah,” Beidou waves her hands, “Relax. First of all, Beidou works just fine. Secondly, I just meant that you don’t look too comfortable running around like that. If that Tianquan complains, just tell her I’m the one going at a snail’s pace.”

Ganyu stops in place.

“Captain Beidou, I am grateful for your consideration-”

“Beidou.”

“I will keep that in mind, Beidou,” Ganyu flushes further, a smile hidden in her voice, “Is there any reason for your reluctance in meeting the Tianquan?”

All of a sudden Beidou is stranded, in a Liyue she doesn’t know. Uncle Mao– Chef Mao now– finally opened up the restaurant of his lifelong dreams, welcome to people from all walks of life. The Qixing’s ranks changed, with how this Tianquan acts now. The people treat her with reverence, instead of snide looks from the corner of their eyes. For Archon’s sake, there’s a giant floating building above Liyue Harbour! And no one bats an eye!

Pangs of longing crash and cascade in her chest.

Where is Ningguang? Has she finally worked her way up? Is she mad at her, for disappearing two years ago? Beidou technically fits the bill for a heartless lover abandoning the love of her life. Now she’s visiting the Tianquan before Ningguang. That woman is going to be so jealous once she gets word of it.

Beidou doesn’t notice the saddened and affectionate smile that replaces her carefree demeanor.

“I wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine. It’s been too long.”

Ganyu nods in understanding.

“In that case, I will recommend the Tianquan to keep it brief.”

The more Beidou sees of this Tianquan, the less she likes. Ganyu leads her straight past Yujing Terrace, to a man guarding a piece of glowing green plaustrite. Beidou snorts. The Tianquan doesn’t even deign to work with the other Qixing. That floating monstrosity over Liyue Harbour is theirs, with a grandiose name of the Jade Chamber.

Ganyu escorts her up, them slowly rising into the clouds, above Tianheng Mountain. The plaustrite underneath her feet is no bigger than the crow’s nest on the Alcor. Beidou isn’t one to get seasick and yet her stomach twists anyway with how Yujing Terrace becomes a baizi.

Beidou’s knees buckle once she’s on solid ground, heaving at the Jade Chamber’s doors, under the unimpassioned and watchful eye of the Millelith. Dammit. Was this some sort of power play? Losing face here to shred her standing in these negotiations? Beidou swallows a growl. Be it as it may, Beidou does not yield. Ganyu pats her back, ever considerate.

“You can leave,” Beidou rasps out.

Ganyu gives her an encouraging smile, speaks to another secretary waiting outdoors and bids her goodbye.

“Welcome to the Jade Chamber, Captain Beidou. Your meeting with the Tianquan is scheduled in the open room on the lower floor.”

Beidou swings the wooden doors open, cringing at the loud crash that reverberates in the otherwise utterly silent Chamber. The sheer opulence of the Jade Chamber makes her jaw drop. The meticulously constructed octahedral floor, exquisite antiques lining the walls, the green glow emanating from the stairwell. There is no one inside. Beidou raises an eyebrow. This place takes time and money to maintain. Besides, don’t the rich have attendants doing their bidding?

Beidou shakes her head. Since she doesn’t like this Tianquan, might as well make her stance clear.

“You know, Tianquan, isn’t it kinda rude to call me in without warning?”

No response. Beidou peers down the stairs.

There is one open room without doors. That’s probably what that secretary meant.

“It’s been two years since I stepped foot on Liyue soil. I haven’t broken any laws.”

Yet.

“I have better things to do than answer to you.”

Beidou finishes stomping down the stairs by the end of that sentence, is walking up to the open doorway. A white and golden blur is thrown into her arms. Beidou instinctively catches.

Wait.

The way this woman fits against her, the way she nuzzles into her shoulder, the way she clutches at her waist, so, so desperately. The familiar ashy white hair knotted in that cute bow. Beidou’s breath is physically knocked from her lungs by that one tackle.

Swathed in gold fineries, was her guiding light.

“Ning?”

Ningguang sobs.

Beidou presses kisses to her forehead, trailing up to the crown of her head. Ningguang’s nail guards sink into Beidou’s back. A long drawn-out hiss escapes Beidou’s lips. Ningguang’s hand curls into a fist, hitting her back in solid thumps. This, of course, can’t hurt Beidou, with how solid and muscled her stature has become.

“Faithless bastard,” Ningguang chokes out, buried in her arms.

They are the first words to follow ‘Beidou’. Beidou can’t help but whisper apologies into her ear, against her hair, her cheek. And she regrets her every word to her Tianquan. She is so proud. Beidou wants to keep her close, tend to her every whim, spoil her with treasures at sea.

Ningguang finally pops her head up from her shoulder, face tear-stained, eyes reddened, making grabby motions towards Beidou’s eyepatch.

“I want to see all of you.”

Ningguang’s voice is hoarse but no less demanding.

Beidou undoes her eyepatch, cooing, “See, I’m all good.”

Beidou’s other eye takes a while to adjust to the light, even longer to get used to Ningguang’s scrutiny. Ningguang runs her fingers along the pink scars on Beidou’s arms, lips turned in a tight little frown. Then she reaches for the electro vision on Beidou’s qipao. Is it her or is her vision glowing a brighter purple than before? The gem is cool to the touch.

Beidou laughs, “You’re not selling that, you little mora weasel. I got this after I ended Haishan.”

Ningguang pouts and gestures to her own geo vision hanging from her hip.

“Oh.”

“Trust me, I tried.”

Beidou really can’t stop laughing now. In her absence, Ningguang actually tried to pawn her vision off? Beidou’s arms wrap around Ningguang’s waist. She lifts her up, grinning wide at Ningguang’s surprised gasp and subsequent grumbling.

“Still mad at me, Ning?”

“You were lost at sea for two years fighting Haishan.”

Ningguang thumbs the contour of her chin, sending electrifying shivers down Beidou’s back. Ningguang melts into her hold. Beidou thinks she might actually electrocute Ningguang, with how electro follows the swell in her chest.

“Didn’t send a single letter telling me you are well.”

Ningguang’s lips meet her with a fervent need. She retreats before Beidou can truly get a taste. Beidou resists the urge to whine.

“Return breaking multiple laws.”

Ningguang tangles a hand in Beidou’s wild mop of hair, forcibly tilting her head up. Their gazes meet. Ningguang’s ruby eyes are aglow.

“Tell me, my dear Captain, what you deserve for bearing these crimes?”

Ningguang clings to Beidou in sleep. In her fuzzy consciousness, she feels Beidou pepper kisses on her forehead, calloused fingers rubbing circles on her bare skin, gentle pats to an unknown rhythm on her back. A sea shanty joins the symphony. All to tell her she’s there. Beidou’s voice is a low hum. Ningguang, tucked under her chin, can feel the vibrations as she does with ore. Beidou is here. Contentment allows her to drift off again.

Beidou looks down at Ningguang, and thinks she’s the luckiest pirate in Teyvat. A mixture of guilt and pride arises at bruises on her pale skin, peeking out of Ningguang’s thin nightgown. Ningguang is too delicate, pampered by the elite lifestyle. Finery suits Ningguang well, though Beidou will tease her afterwards. Beidou takes Ningguang’s hand in her own, lightly going over thin white scars, remnants of their childhood. Beidou is home, in this abode within the clouds, far beyond what she knows. Ningguang curls up in her arms, as if she’s noticed the lack of attention. Beidou chuckles. Sorry, my pretty princess.

Mist lazily rolls around them. Bamboo sprouts from the freshly turned earth. Her stone stool is slightly cool to the touch. A curl of steam emerges from her teacup. Ningguang sips the hot tea, letting the fragrance wash away their light breakfast. Her red eyes lid, narrowly watching her opponent. She should visit her estate in Qingce village more often.

“You sure know how to enjoy yourself, Ning.”

Beidou crosses her ankle over her knee, leaning back. Her grin is a wide, challenging one.

Ningguang’s gloved hand thumbs a baizi from her small clay pot.

“Your move, Captain.”

The heizi move first. Beidou’s fingertips grab a round, smooth, polished black piece. Ningguang hides a smile behind her cup. It’s beautiful, how something so small and unassuming like a pebble can determine the whole game. She will win.

Beidou sets it down on one of the thin criss-crossing lines on the elevated wooden chessboard. Ningguang registers the new start of the game with interest. Beidou never plays by the same strategy. Even in the game, Beidou is insistent on forging her path forward. That more often than not leads to her loss.

The board is a land of opportunity. Rulers chase to secure every last plot. It’s like them, really. Coming from nothing to win the whole board. Their influence spread over Liyue Harbour, legally and illegally. Heizi. Heidao. The black path. Ningguang can’t pretend that underground trade doesn’t exist. It’s part of her role as Tianquan to monitor it. Beidou is the one that deals with it. She is the star that orbits the Tianquan, protects her from the darkness, so Ningguang is as pristine as the baizi in her fingers.

Ningguang reigns in the urge to kiss her. Beidou is so handsome. Her eyebrows furrow in a particularly tight spot. She actually pauses in between Ningguang’s moves now. Her wine red eye glow with determination. She takes intermittent draughts of the wine in her flask while she thinks. Will Ningguang taste it on her lips?

All this is worth it, if all Ningguang’s betting on is a few fines. And Ningguang never bets.

Their game continues until late afternoon. The mist has cleared up, sunlight streaming down into their yard. The bamboo turns a beautiful shade of jade in the light. Beidou sits up on the stone table, throwing a few heizi up in the air and catching them. She grins at Ningguang out of the corner of her eye. Her hip pushes against their chessboard. She talks. A lot.

Ningguang actually finds herself backed into a corner this time round. Beidou’s black chess pieces surround her white. Ningguang purses her lips, forcing a smile to seem unbothered. Perhaps she should resort to less than proper tactics. A distraction is prudent.

“There are always those newly arisen that try to challenge the Liyue Qixing. Their ends…are not those you wish to know of.”

Beidou laughs, seeing right through her.

“The game is determined by skill alone, Ning. Only the loser sees it through the end. And I won’t lose.”

Ningguang sets the lid on her teacup. Beidou can be so, so infuriating sometimes.

“Your scope is too narrow, Beidou. Aren’t you afraid I’ll sweep all the pieces off the board?”

Beidou chuckles heartily, bending down to pinch her cheek. She plays with a strand of her white hair. Ningguang scowls.

“If you do that, who are you going to play with then?”

Ningguang pouts. She drops two of her baizi on the board at once, signalling her surrender. She tilts her head up, begging for a kiss after her miserable loss. Luckily for her, Beidou isn’t completely devoid of romantism.

Beidou coos, “Aw, don’t be mad now.”

Beidou swoops down with a kiss. Ningguang can feel her smile against her lips.

A brush with death shifts the every earth beneath them.

The Jade Chamber falls.

The power of Haishan manifests in the form of jiaoshe, twin electro creatures clambering onto her shoulders. Their scaly bodies curl, claws out, ready to attack an enemy Beidou can’t counter. The crew back away, never seeing them this agitated.

Beidou can’t breathe, can’t control the electro, can’t will them away.

Ningguang!

An electro storm rips into Yujing Terrace. Beidou is at the centre of it, her jiaoshe snarling and snapping at any attendants that get too close. Yujing Terrace is a flurry of chaos, even without Beidou. One of the Bais waves her aside, ignoring the hissing creature.

“Lady Ningguang has asked for no visitors.”

Her jiaoshe quiet at Ningguang’s name. One flicks it tongue out.

The secretary motions for her to follow deeper into the administrative building. Up the stairs, to the second floor. Bai-something drags her in front of a large wooden door. The other two Bais are waiting for her, ready to collapse in relief. They talk over one another, for once not on the same page. Beidou can’t make heads or tails of it. Fatui. Osial. Adepti. Beidou chooses the equivalent of taking a broadsword and hacking away at entangled threads. She slams open the door.

“Ning!”

The room smells of smoke. A thin bed is set up at the edge of the room. Ningguang is bent over her desk, scrawling over documents. Her pen clatters out of her hand, splotching black ink on the scroll. Her red eyes dart up. There are dark circles under them. Ningguang’s lip quivers. Stray strands stick out from her bow.

“Beidou.”

Her sea creatures act faster than Beidou does, zipping onto Ningguang’s shoulders. A purple head butts against Ningguang. Ningguang stretches out a finger to the Thunderbeast. It happily flicks its tongue out at her. Ningguang releases a shaky breath at the affectionate gesture. Beidou clutches Ningguang to herself, thanking the Archons she is alive. Ningguang asks for more, weakly tugging at Beidou’s cape, wanting to be held. Beidou slips an arm under her knees, cradling Ningguang to her. She feels so fragile. Beidou grips just a bit tighter.

“It’ll be alright Ning,” Beidou coos. She isn’t sure if she’s convincing herself or Ningguang. She’d never imagined that Ningguang would brush with death. That’s her job.

Out of the corner of her eye, she reads the pile of documents and Ningguang’s pretty penmanship. Beidou already feels a headache beginning to swell. That thin bed doesn’t look too comfortable either, especially compared with the Jade Chamber. Beidou flicks a window open, letting the smoke out and noises of the populace filter in. A tight frown is on Ningguang’s face. She is so sensitive. That woman has to have another estate somewhere in Yujing Terrace, right? Having no place else to set Ningguang down, Beidou decides on the uncomfortable bed anyway. Ningguang holds on to Beidou’s shoulders, obediently nestles against her. The sea creatures curl around Ningguang.

“Love me,” Ningguang whimpers.

Through all their years of being together, Beidou understands. Beidou tightens her arms around Ningguang. She presses soft kisses to her forehead, cheeks, hair. Ningguang burrows into her. Quiet sobs are set free. Beidou knows, better than anyone, that her love isn’t enough now. Beidou is reminded of a night, of a fire doused, leaving hot embered coals. Beidou will wait until her eyes glow with fiery ambition. Beidou knows it’s only a matter of time until she heals.

But Beidou will be there to shield her, until Ningguang is whole again.

“I’m not going anywhere, Ning.”

Ningguang wakes in the embrace of her lover, protected from worldly troubles. She doesn’t remember much after Osial’s defeat. She presses kisses to Beidou’s temple, face, neck, anywhere she can reach without moving from her position. Ningguang doesn’t want to think, of all the mora she’s lost, of all she’ll need to rebuild, of all provisions to her people. She’s so tired.

Beidou holds her, a bleary eye blinking awake.

“Ning? My star?”

Ningguang clings to this. She savours this moment, of her settled heart singing.

“Say that again. Please.”

Infinity is something even the Archons tire of. No wonder she was exhausted from toiling, succeeding Liyue, gathering the riches of Teyvat. These fleeting moments soothe her, like nothing else can.

“Ning. My star.”

Beidou clumsily kisses her hair. Ningguang lets a weak laugh slip past her lips.

Beidou is the one that returned to her, against all odds. Ningguang saved reassurances of her every voyage home, even if it’s just Beidou’s name scrawled on a piece of paper. Her heart twists with the loss of not just her Jade Chamber, her little monuments from Beidou sinking to their watery grave as well. As if Beidou’s promise to her will be swallowed up too. She’s so scared.

A hand strokes her cheek, gathering wet tear stains. Beidou looks down at her so lovingly, as if that’s promise enough. Ningguang willingly falls into this warmth again and doesn’t wish to ever climb back out.

The fall of a star heralds a new one. Their rebirth is complete.

A vacation to Mondstadt is simultaneously mundane and exhilarating for them.

The Tianquan of Liyue and the Uncrowned Dragon Lord of the Ocean have seen a lot of the world. To see it with each other, without restraint, is reminiscent of their pasts and refreshing all at once.

Their luggage, along with a slightly cheeky Ningguang are hanging off Beidou. The woman grumbles as they walk, pushing the former away. Their path leads directly from Liyue Harbour into Mondstadt. Although Ningguang has made it countless times as a child, this is surely the most chaotic one yet.

“Ning, I am carrying all our belongings.”

Ningguang pouts, grabbing onto Beidou’s muscled arm.

“But my Captain, surely you can spare your attention some? This is not our first trip together. This is part of our vacation, after all.”

Not that the trip to Mondstadt wasn’t thought of with Beidou in mind. With the Dawn Winery based there, Beidou can surely enjoy herself one way or another. Of course, Ningguang hadn’t expected for…hiking to take root as an idea either. Luckily for her, Ningguang does know how to make the best of a deal.

“You are the pettiest woman I know, Ningguang.”

Beidou rolls her eyes, dragging her along anyway.

Ningguang gasps in mock offense.

“You know other women?”

Beidou gapes at her, her single eye wide in incredulity. Ningguang presses a victorious kiss to Beidou’s cheek. Beidou flushes red, eyeing the passersby around them. Seeing no one around them, Beidou actually lets go of a bag of clothes to grab her around the waist. Ningguang embarrassingly squeals. Beidou holds her all of a second, sneaking a bite at her nape. They end up laughing, picking dusty bags off the ground.

The hike to Mondstadt wears Ningguang out, while Beidou is still running around like a geovishap hatchling. At one point, Ningguang simply sits on a flat stone, lips pursed, refusing to move from her spot. Ningguang thinks ruefully, that her stamina used to be higher than that. Beidou naturally complains about her ‘being spoiled’, of all things. Ningguang shoots a dirty look at her captain.

“You’re really out of it, huh Ning?”

“Astute observations, Captain,” Ningguang drily adds.

Beidou rubs the back of her neck. She adjusts the state of their bags so they’re in one collective lump on her back. Beidou stretches her arms out.

“C’mere Ning, my star.”

She’s trying to placate her, Ningguang knows, and yet her heart can’t help but traitorously flutter. Ningguang carefully curates her expression, a raised eyebrow so displeasure is evident.

“Why should I, Captain Beidou?”

She stands up anyway, ignoring the slight wobble in her legs. Beidou sweeps her up easily. She courteously curls up in Beidou’s arms, taking full advantage of that offer. She melts into Beidou’s warm embrace. A wisp of a whisper leaves her lips, not quite meant to be heard, “My Captain.”

Beidou goes flame red like the rest of her outfit. Ningguang’s own ears redden. Ningguang closes her eyes, acting unbothered.

Ningguang is the one that decides their first stop is the Angel’s Share. Ironically, it’s also the one time Beidou drinks something other than wine, with the Traveller bartending. Beidou badly hides a laugh, unable to hold back a snicker. Ningguang glowers at her.

“Anyway, this one’s on me, okay?”

Beidou leans forward in an effort to smooth Ningguang’s ruffled feathers. Ningguang huffs.

“I never thought you’d enjoy tea, Captain.”

“I do share a cup with you every now and then, Ning.”

“Steal,” Ningguang corrects, her tone softening. She remembers Beidou well and truly burning her tongue once. That yelp she made startled all three of her secretaries.

Beidou chuckles, “Well, I’m a pirate. There’re other things I steal-”

Beidou thankfully shuts up once the Traveller returns. Ningguang swats Beidou’s hand. She does not want to be responsible for corrupting them and Paimon. Ningguang is reminded of the children of the Harbour seeking for her approval when the Traveller looks to them, eyes hopeful and nervous all at once.

Her Birch Sap is sour with a honeyed aftertaste, extraordinarily familiar, like a culmination of their childhood, condensed in a little drink. Her eyes flicker to Beidou. She relates this with approval.

Beidou’s eyes twinkle as she returns with a jab of her selling fruit. She remembers just as well. Beidou is considerate enough to reveal her own past from Downriver so they are on even ground, though Ningguang catches the slight pain in her eye.

“I bet few can tell that I’m from an ordinary fishing village, right?”

And Ningguang thinks, of all the rumours that surround them both. Storytellers never even consider anything outside of glamour. Beidou discards them all with ease, like water off a duck’s back. Beidou’s eye glows with pride yes, but there’s honesty, kindness, adventure. Those exaggerated stories can’t even capture a fraction of Beidou’s majesty.

Ningguang herself is surrounded by far more, as fleeting as scraps of paper snow. Very few are truths. Her love with Beidou is an adventure in and of itself. She cherishes all their moments together and hopes for more. She is content here.

“I’d say that Captain Beidou has eyes that can pierce the sea. You’re an adventure-seeking pioneer who tames the wind and waves…”