Work Text:
Someone appeared to be frustrated.
The dipping of the sun beyond the horizon marked the start of an all-night celebration aboard The Alcor, to celebrate the end of the Vision Hunt Decree; to drink to one’s heart content for winning a dare against a god-slaying god; to congratulate Kaedehara Kazuha, who would soon no longer be a fugitive in his own country. It was, indeed, a special occasion. The Crux had always partied with everything they got—grudges were set aside, no expenses were spared, and the sweet, sweet wine flowed without end—but tonight, they had truly pulled out all the stops. For starters, everyone was invited. Word was sent out far and wide—as though the whole of Liyue and even Inazuma were on the guest list—that the infamous pirate fleet would be throwing the party of a lifetime in Liyue Harbour.
Preparations were swift as the crew worked through sunrise to sunset—hauling crates of food and kegs of booze, assisting Xiangling with the banquet of the year, setting up Xinyan’s one-woman musical extravaganza that was sure to toss the ship and stir the seas, and even submitting a permit for the event to the Ministry of Civil Affairs. Though some had questioned the legality of such an event proposed by what some had viewed as an unruly band of pirates, the naysayers were swiftly silenced by Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixin herself, who pretended to show an avid interest in the festivities soon to take place. What had she called it? —Ah, a “major business opportunity”.
Of course, Ningguang was invited too, by Beidou herself no less, when they shared a moment to themselves later that night.
With utmost sincerity to her wife, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixin, the boisterous Captain Beidou handed her a special envelope embroidered at the seams in gold and red, which contained an equally exquisite invitation letter. Just the way she knew her beloved would have adored. Ningguang was like a child who was offered candy when she received the decorated memo, and could not possibly refuse her beloved to make an appearance on the Alcor, despite how she had terribly wished to keep to herself and unfurl the knot between her brows.
Keeping to herself and Beidou would have been the best option, but, well… Keeping to herself in Beidou's room would have to do. That would be as good of a second option as convincing herself that she was not getting stood up by her date.
… It would be nice if her lover paid her any attention tonight.
The golden rays of the sun sank beneath the window sill little by little, retracting the warmth Ningguang had come to enjoy in the absence of her beloved, the hollow of her heart as large as the room that enclosed her.
At the very least, Ningguang had appreciated the Captain’s quarter for its comforts, such as the desk where Beidou poured over maps, documents, and letters that often accumulated on her adventures, crafted from the sturdiest of trees. It was a fine graveyard for the stern warnings and heavy penalties Ningguang personally signed off on—or as Beidou liked to call them: “Love Letters from Her Most Beautiful Wife”.
There were also the paintings Beidou collected over the course of her pirating career, breathtaking in terms of size and quality, most of which depicted the oceans and fantastical beings. It was as though the captain could never get enough of the seas and her phoenix.
As for Beidou’s king-sized bed, the quilt and the mattress and even the headboard—which Ningguang had been laying against—seemed far too wide for one person. The bed was meant for two after all. It might swallow her whole if she were to remain careless.
The Tianquan sighed as she watched the sunset, alone. While there was no way for her to look towards the deck without opening the door, she could tell from the increasingly rapid tapping and stomping of shoes against the wood, and the growing amalgamation of voices leaking into the room, that a crowd had begun gathering outside.
She could not stand this situation any longer, Ningguang thought, as she acquiesced to the company of none but her own tobacco pipe and an ashtray specially prepared for her in advance. She lit and lit her kindling ablaze, without restraint, as though to set her unhappy, ugly self on fire; to burn her desire to ashes; anything at all, as long as her suffering would end and she could rise again from the flames.
More than a dozen ships had passed by since the party began. If she had brought an abacus with her, she would have been flicking calculations for the number of vessels and persons that had entered and exited Liyue Harbour tonight. For now, she estimated that around three ships had sailed in or out per hour. Quite a sizable number, compared to the slower days when there would have only been three ships per day .
All because of The Crux; the merry band of pirates; Beidou. Perhaps the Tianquan should reward the wayward Liyuean for her contribution to the nation’s economy.
Alas, the prestigious citizen was busy getting herself drunk on booze and praise.
Ningguang laid supine in Beidou’s bed, spreading her arms and legs as wide as possible—like a child basking in the afterglow of making a snow angel; or an unfortunate soul stranded at sea, kept afloat only by the ocean’s rejection of her terrestrial origins.
At some point, out of sheer boredom, she began paying attention to the ongoings outside.
The thunderstorm of footfall and raring crowds had long disembarked from the ship and gathered at its side, at the port somewhere to Ningguang’s right, where the banquet and concert were held. She had not realised how loud the event would have been until Xinyan’s songs began with a roar that shook the earth—or perhaps it was merely the boat rocking with the waves. She yelled and whooped, hyping up the crowd with the soul of rock ‘n roll. As the evening rolled into the night, her sound eased with the ebb and flow of the ocean waves, and eventually mellowed into soft serenades that rocked like a gentle lullaby and soothed the souls of many.
Even the dejected Tianquan could allege to have been comforted by the distant melodies.
Out of frustration, her eyes fell shut. It was not long before her consciousness slipped into slumber.
Ningguang knew not when her eyes flew open nor when she had regained her senses. Everything was as constant as before she lost her bearings. The room remained enshrouded in the darkness of a moonless night—its shadows encroaching upon her, threatening to stain her black and unsightly. Her body had not moved from its position—she stayed prone and vulnerable; accepting even, yet no one had arrived to claim her. She was still cold—the warmth she craved was absent and away, leaving her untouched; unloved.
Her eyes focused on what little she could of the ceiling she was facing. It then came to her attention that the party had reduced into simmering embers—quietened, but not silenced. When she pushed herself up to look out of the window, she observed the many partygoers who had remained at the docks, with most seeming to have fallen into a drunken, melancholic stupor.
Despite the blade named “Beidou” that had lodged in her chest and left her in pain with each breath she took, Ningguang strained her eyes to scan the crowd for that irrepressible pirate captain.
Nothing. She had left; she was gone.
The realisation thrusted the blade deeper into her body, inching it ever closer to her aching heart. It stung, stung, stung, as it contorted her senses into the shape of her misery, forcing her to face the agony she had been bearing; the anguish inflicted upon her by the blade driven into her chest, named Beidou. She would have to reconsider her priorities: Should she risk irreparable heartache by continuing to keep her wife close to her heart, or should she simply… Take a step back and breathe a little?
As Ningguang removed herself from the window perch, her mind was made. She shall sleep till the break of dawn, when she shall make her way off of the ship like a lady of virtue and return to the Jade Chamber, where she should not have left. It had been quite a meaningless endeavour to set aside time for the pirate; a costly investment that could have been better spent elsewhere, such as adding another coin of mora to her priceless name.
At her usual pace, as though nothing was wrong, Ningguang removed her numerous accessories and set them aside, before wiping her face clean of makeup and undressing herself bare, like how she normally would in the privacy of her own bedroom. She then slipped back into the unfamiliar bed, on the side where she usually slept. Instead of curling into the arms of that senseless captain like she had always preferred, she opted to turn the other way and embrace the company of nothing against her chest.
This was how it should have been right from the start. Yet, she felt miserable.
Ningguang shuddered, then pulled the thin covers over her lone shoulder.
“Bǎo Bèi? Are you asleep?”
The weathered door was cracked ajar, and the draught spilling in carried a low, hushed whisper, but Ningguang neither stirred nor snored. She did not respond, even as the person she had dearly missed stepped into the room and closed the door with a loud creak. A mental note was made to have the hinges oiled.
“I guess so, huh… It did get kinda late after all… Or rather,” Beidou muttered under her breath as she glanced at the window, where dazzling hues of red and orange were beginning to peek beyond the horizon and creep into the room, dragging into view the details that were once hidden within shadows and the darkness—the articles of gold, cream and earthy clothing neatly folded and left on a bedside table; the numerous hairpins, claws and cuffs gradually catching the light and emitting a brilliant, mora-coloured hue; and the ivory white waves pulled and creased in the shape of her beautiful, slumbering lover.
As the details once shadowed gradually began to unveil themselves, it eventually dawned on the captain how many hours it had been since she ushered her sulky wife into her room. How many hands she had shaken; how many new faces she met during the festivities; how much she had to drink from everyone that handed her a little of everything. “I’m so late, I’m early.”
Despite the weight of her guilt, Beidou did her best to tiptoe as she approached her bed so that the ageing floorboards would not creak too much. When she was finally within arm’s reach of Ningguang, she could not help but sigh. She found herself entranced by the elegance of her wife draped in woven marble, surely as flawless as the gods themselves. For such a beautiful goddess to be placed in her care; nestled within her sheets, sleeping soundly, bare and defenceless; willing to entrust her body and soul entirely to her mortal of choice, Beidou sometimes wondered what she had done to deserve Ningguang’s fancy.
Beidou then sighed again—Ningguang must have felt rather lonely throughout the night. She had to admit that her phoenix appeared forlorn, with her back hunched into herself as though the world offered no more warmth than the flames of her own body. From arm to arm she squeezed herself tightly, to cushion and cradle the comforting heat. To try to keep her embers alive as much as she could.
She needed her. She had needed her; but would she still want her?
If only Beidou could touch her right now; to feel Ningguang’s presence and being; and to let her dear lover know that she was finally here. That she no longer had to put up a strong front nor make do with the company of no one when she needed a specific someone the most. Ningguang as she was right now was like a husk—fragile and soon to disintegrate if anyone so much as breathed on her; to reduce to dust before Beidou’s very eyes should she be touched. The Uncrowned Lord may have slayed sea monsters and overcame countless adversaries, but she could not help but be frightened by the prospects of her phoenix leaving her side in such a manner… This was different from dying at sea. Potentially losing her life to a powerful foe was one thing, but she could not imagine herself living without Ningguang.
She had to be brave.
“Bǎo Bèi ah?” Carefully, Beidou grazed the apple of her goddess’ cheek with her fingers, making sure to avoid dragging an old scar or a callus across delicate skin. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” she murmured. After drinking copious amounts of huangjiu , sake and all sorts of fine liquor the entire night, each syllable came out as mellow and husky as the finest whisky…
… And smelling just a little sour.
Ningguang’s nose could be spotted crinkling and taking offence from the stench.
“Bǎo Bèi?” As easily as she breathed, like a devotee in worship of her deity, the captain lowered herself to her knees and laid her upper body onto the bed. It was like a bow as she did so, just so that her face would almost be level with her beloved’s. She kneeled casually, easily, like she had done this many times before. Beidou had hoped to witness the moment her love rouses from sleep; when her eyelids would flutter open to unveil the most precious rubies in all of Liyue; for her to be the first reflected in Ningguang’s eyes and perceived by her lover. And what would her wife’s first reaction be? Shock? Surprise? Joy? Anger? Whatever it might be, Beidou hoped that Ningguang would be immediately relieved to see her, even if she would not show it on her face. “Bǎo Bèi, I’m here now.”
“Shut your mouth, you smelly woman…” The sleepy Tianquan pulled her hand from beneath the sheets to cover her nose for a bit, stretching a little here and there before making herself even more comfortable where she laid. She deigned to move and speak nicely, huffing as she slowly gained her bearings, crinkling her nose and furrowing her slender brows occasionally. Despite the circumstances, it was all very endearing to Beidou. “You had the nerve to make me wait this long.”
“I’m sorry, Ning,” Beidou cooed, and flashed a most dashing, apologetic smile, “sorry I could not return sooner.”
“Care to explain yourself?” Ningguang rolled the other way, granting the captain not a single pleasure of a glance. It felt like too much to try to look at her wife right now, while she was still upset from all the waiting she did.
“Mhm… I was letting the sea breeze clear my mind and take away some of the boozy stench that got onto me.” Beidou, on the other hand, leaned into her dearest to take a deep breath and fill her lungs with her favourite scent, as though she could overwrite more of the alcohol that way. “Before that, I was making sure the women and everyone else that had to get home did get back safely, leaving the crew with some instructions they could get to after sobering up later, chatting with Xiangling and Xinyan—they did a fantastic job, y’know?—then sent them home, and… Well, rehydrating a bit. Gotta have something to wash everything down.”
As she awaiting a response—a hum, a scoff, some sort of praise, anything —Beidou let her words swim and dip beneath the silent waves that ebbed and flowed in the space between them, like a bottle of emotions in parchment and ink destined to sail the seven seas and one day cast itself ashore closest to whom her heart fancied. It was romantic; an ideal; something beautiful if it really happened, albeit the chances of it occurring in this case depended entirely on Ningguang, her goddess whose favour she had lost. Nonetheless, Beidou had always been the type to challenge the odds. At the very least, she could later say that she had tried.
Ebb.
Flow.
Ebb.
Flow.
It was a pregnant pause.
Ebb.
Flow.
Ebb.
Flow.
“You’ll hear it from me later.” Her voice was as soft as the salty, creamy seafoam that dragged between her fingertips, but Beidou caught it all the same before it disappeared completely.
Ningguang spoke not another word as her shoulder rose and fell with the waves, as though her body had dispersed into an infinite foam. She remained physically, but she was no longer within reach.
All Beidou could do was to go to bed with a heavy heart and hope for the best.
Beidou only woke up later in the day, long after her wife slipped away without her knowledge and disembarked from her ship, returning to the skies from whence she came—the Jade Chamber. She was already missing her beloved, but she knew better than to press the issue while Ningguang was not yet ready for her. Just like how she had made her wife wait for her, she would have to wait as well. She understood her enough to know this. Fortunately, the wait was short.
At the second break of dawn, Beidou received a fine, signed off by the Tianquan herself. The fine in itself was not unusual—she had been previously fined this early in the day, and Ningguang had always signed off her fines. However, it was a fine delivered by one of Ningguang’s personal secretaries; it was the type of arrangement that would only be made for Beidou. After all, the messenger from the skies had always borne her gifts from the heart; The Tianquan’s heart.
Before anyone else could greet her for the day, Beidou retreated to her quarters as though she had never stepped out of it, then sat herself down at her desk, where she often made herself comfortable before perusing whatever Ningguang had addressed to her. It was a habit.
“To my dearest Xīn Gān, Beidou,
How are you? I hope this letter has not left you waiting too long, but I’m sure you would not mind sparing the energy to think about me, just like how I have always thought about you. Even that night, I had longed to meet you even just once. To admire and enjoy the company of my lovely wife, but I had let my temper get the best of me, and therefore we were unable to meet in heart and soul. I hope you could forgive me, Beidou, just as I am willing to let go of the misfortune that had only inevitably happened.
While I was unable to enjoy the party, allow me to share with you about my day nonetheless. 36 ships had sailed in and out of the harbour that night, and I have been informed that these were mostly mercantile vessels that carried goods to be traded in the city. Needless to say, there has been an exponential growth in the volume of trade, and the Liyue Harbour will be in your debt… As long as you stopped breaking its rules so eagerly.
Even within the privacy of the Captain’s Quarters, the musician’s—Xinyan—music could be heard almost quite clearly. It was slightly muffled, but she had a lovely musical signature. What had she called it, rock ‘n roll? It was rather tough yet soulful, brimming with energy yet comfortable and soothing, like a strong and gentle lullaby that may form the backbone of the nation and be passed down through the generations. She left me with high hopes for the youth of Liyue.
After the party ended, I had tried looking out for you, thinking that you might be among the drinkers or even leading an impromptu song on stage, but you weren’t there. I pondered about where you were, but you had said that you were busy tying up loose ends, yes? Thank you for doing such an excellent job. There had been no reports of missing persons or unruly lawbreaking as a result of the celebration.
I wonder if you are free tonight to come home for a game of chess? I shall await your visit, patiently.
Your Bǎo Bèi, Ning”
The letter carried the scent of her wife’s perfume. It was one of her many fragrances, but this one was exclusively reserved to be enjoyed intimately. When there were the two of them and only the two of them, sharing a private moment together.
It will eventually join the rest of the love letters her beloved Ningguang had written to her but for now, Beidou had it securely tucked into her clothes, like a sheathed blade, laid closest to her heart.