Chapter Text
The first time Lumine kisses Childe, they’re on the floor of Golden House, and she’s exhausted.
They’re fresh off of a spar, and he’s promised to help her wield Hydro whenever she makes it to Fontaine, and they’ve made plans for another archery lesson, and he’s just there. In front of her. His stupid ginger hair is messy as always and it gets on her nerves, so she runs her hands through it once she leans in.
The second time she kisses him, they’re on a bridge in Liyue Harbor. His hair is still awful, but it’s free of his mask. In fact, he’s free of anything that could identify him as Fatui, and maybe meeting him like this was her first mistake.
She agrees to try things out, and it really works.
In the beginning.
As most things do.
Every morning, he had to report back to Northland Bank, and she had to get to the Adventurer’s Guild for her commissions. Sometimes they’d meet at night and he’d still have blood on his clothes, and she would too. Their weekly spars only got better, and Childe finally learned how to properly shoot a bow.
But then she found her brother, who told her to find the truth about this world herself—which is so perfectly typical of him to force all the work onto her. So she listened, which is so typical of her. When she caught wind of passage to Inazuma opening up, Lumine had to fight for it.
The last time she kisses Childe, it’s after he kisses her. She can taste the sea breeze on his lips, and that’s how she knows he’s been fishing all morning before her send-off.
“I really do have to go,” she says, pulling away to catch a breath. Childe flips them so now it’s her back against the alley wall and his kisses on her collarbone.
“One more minute?”
“Paimon will wonder where I’m at. I don’t want to worry her.”
“Maybe you should just let her take the boat to Inazuma herself. Tell her you’ll meet her there.”
“Childe!”
The kissing is really just a distraction from the situation at hand. It’s not half bad.
He pulls back and looks at her like he’s going to do something unpredictable. He might ask her to run away with him, and she’s half-inclined to agree.
“Lumi.”
Lumine feels her stomach drop at the blush on his face. She ignores it by leaning in to whisper in his ear, because how dare he try to one-up her.
“Do you really think I’d postpone our spar for so long? Imagine how I’d feel if I came back and learned you found someone else to challenge yourself with.”
“Hardly, girlie. Like there’s anyone in the Harbor who would willingly fall into cohorts with a Harbinger. And besides, I don’t think you’ll have trouble meeting the Electro Archon. Rex Lapis’s dead body fell out of the sky in front of you, didn’t it?”
Lumine scoffs, but still lets him pester her with smaller kisses along her jawline as he breaks them up with his teasing words.
“I’m . . . remembering . . . that . . . correctly, right?”
“Maybe.”
Childe looks at her expectantly as he leans back.
“I’ll see you in a few months. At most. If you’re still around, that is,” she teases.
“I don’t plan on going anywhere, Lumi.”
She stays in Inazuma for a while longer than planned after meeting Ei—caught up with local happenings and people that always seem to need the help of a well-meaning, passing traveler. So when she returns to Liyue, she’s admittedly later than she thought she’d be, and has a few more scars than she had when she left.
Ekaterina, the bank receptionist, informs Lumine that Mr. Tartaglia has been called back to the homeland for reassignment.
And that’s that.
Maybe it was selfish of her to ask him to wait. They both knew this thing of theirs had an expiration date. Lumine is certainly experienced with ending things without closure, but this is the first time she’s been on the other side of it.
So she heads back to Inazuma, whose storm-filled waters still call her name. She meets some new friends and generous allies. She throws herself into her work, and even Paimon has trouble getting her to relax.
Then he shows up—again. Lumine really shouldn’t be surprised that he’s crossed the ocean now, too. He’s accomplished less ridiculous feats. Besides: he’s Fatui, and they are kind of known for being everywhere.
“An adventurer from Mondstadt, eh?” he teases her when Paimon and Xinyan are far enough ahead they can’t hear.
“Just go with it, would you?”
For the first time, he listens, and it’s like they’re back in Liyue where things were—albeit still—complicated, yet simpler than whatever strange space they’re in right now. But they aren’t in Liyue. They’re in a domain in Inazuma, and apparently they’re old friends.
When all is said and done, and Lumine finally gets a moment alone with him, it’s even worse than she would’ve imagined.
Being around each other is so awkward in a way that it’s never been before. They’ve been enemies and reluctant allies and friends and even more, but this is unexplored territory. Childe refuses to acknowledge how they left things, and so does she.
“So you really are here to search for the Balladeer?” she asks him, moreso to drill it into her own head that she was not the one who brought him here.
Childe nods. “As I’m sure you remember very well, each Harbinger has their own agenda. Mine is to seek out combat.”
“And his?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. We aren’t exactly buddy-buddy.”
“Right.”
“Well, I wish I could stay here a while longer. The more time you spend somewhere, the more joy it brings you when you return.”
He looks straight at her as he says this, and that’s how Lumine knows that he definitely saw her blush after comparing her to the stars in the night sky before leaving without even a brush of the skin.
Of course, they both knew this was the likely outcome if they’d ever got involved.
He’d go back to the Fatui, and she’d go back on her brother’s path. Granted, this meeting didn’t end in a battle, so maybe they’re changing their fate.
##
So it goes.
Lumine spends another year forgetting about Childe and dealing with the Balladeer—something that was supposed to be his problem but ended up being hers. She camps out in the desert and chokes on sand. She explores underground ruins and rents a room in Sumeru City before ultimately packing her belongings in her bag and moving on.
She leaves without any festivities because she doesn’t really feel like saying goodbye.
Fontaine really is a breath of fresh air. Lumine takes the aquabus into the city with Paimon and her new acquaintances, and from there she gets to witness the nation in a way she’s never seen the others before.
The Court is made up of many interlocking, concentric quartiers, and Lumine gets lost trying to find the blacksmith by ignoring Paimon’s directions. They arrive later than they should, and by some sick and twisted work of fate, it ends up being exactly the right time.
Because she turns around, and he’s there.
If this were some Inazuman light novel, the moment would be a lot more dramatic. But it’s not. Really.
So of course, he’s running errands for the bank, and of course he stops, mid-encounter, to greet her and Paimon. She can’t believe the restraint that’s gotten into him. To give up, in the midst of a fight, it’s out of character.
That’s ignoring the fact that to give up, in the midst of a fight, to talk to her—that’s unfortunately quite in character.
Then he tries to tell her about his siblings, and gets dragged away again.
Right before they go their separate ways, he admits that he’s been in a strange mood lately and gives her his Vision to go spar with one of the court’s Champion Duelists. This puts Lumine in a strange mood that persists for hours, even when she’s busying herself with exploring the city at night.
Paimon puts down her who-dun-it that she’s borrowed from the book stand—borrowed meaning read-in-its-entirety-in-one-sitting. Lumine thinks it’s easier for her to be frugal with their funds when it’s not food they’re looking to purchase.
“Paimon can’t believe he’s sparring with someone else! You should do something!”
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” Lumine says, picking through a stack of books, “but that’s kinda his thing. He needs to grow stronger and all that.”
“You sure you aren’t mad about it?”
“Why would I be mad about him going off to fight someone?”
She shrugs shyly. “Paimon doesn’t know, maybe because you two—”
“I’m fine, Paimon. But thank you. I really wasn’t even thinking about it before you mentioned it.”
Lumine looks at her friend when she goes silent and finds that she’s looking back at her in disbelief. Lumine shakes her head. “The only thing I’m thinking of, right now, is going to the opera house tomorrow.”
“Okay, then.” Paimon draws out the word. “We should head back to the hotel. Paimon is starting to get a bit sleepy.”
Lumine agrees. The walk back to the hotel is a short one, and Paimon ends up falling asleep almost immediately, which leaves her with ample time and silence to think about the one thing she shouldn’t.
She does not sleep well that night.
##
Early in the morning, Lumine slips out of her room alone to take a walk.
Even in Fontaine, she knows she probably sticks out like a sore thumb, but she’s able to slip under the radar here more easily when she’s just a traveler. With each step she takes, Childe’s Vision weighs heavy in her pocket, even when she isn’t thinking about it.
And she’s not thinking about it.
She isn’t.
She already has too much to think about—when to leave for the magic show, which aquabus line to take, which lead to follow next.
Lumine keeps her head up, taking in her surroundings. That’s how she spots Childe, walking with his head down.
He looks like a lost dog. She certainly doesn’t look any better, she thinks.
Against her better judgment, Lumine offers him a small wave when they’re about to cross paths, and that brings him out of his stupor. Sort of.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” she says. “I didn’t think you’d want your Vision back so soon.”
“Trust me, this run-in wasn’t intentional. You can keep it for a while longer, if you wish.”
He looks at her pointedly, as if he’s expecting her to fish it out of her pocket and throw it into the waterway for him to retrieve himself. Lumine answers with a shrug.
“Keeping you indebted to me doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.”
Childe laughs.
“I think I agree.”
Lumine looks away, rubbing the glass casing of his Vision with her thumb as if it’d take away the awkwardness.
“So, girlie—how long have you been in Fontaine?”
“Only a day or so. Paimon and I made our way through the desert first, and we took the aquabus from Romaritime Harbor.”
“It’s advanced technology, isn’t it? Hey, if you like it, you should see Snezhnaya. Our capital city is more beautiful in its own right.”
“Yeah, I mean . . . I do have to go there anyway.”
“My offer still stands. If you’re ever in my hometown, my family’s house is yours,” Childe says. He keeps his eyes trained on the cobblestone.
“Sure, of course.”
It’s an awkward dance of avoiding each other’s gazes and stealing glances when the other just happens to be looking.
“So,” she says to break the silence. “How did your duel go?”
“Honestly? Pretty disappointing.” He kicks at a pebble on the pavement. Lumine would laugh at his attempt to look unbothered if she weren’t so bad at it herself. “I heard that she was the strongest of the Champion Duelists, yet I could easily tell she was holding back the entire time.”
“Or maybe you’ve simply gotten too strong for your own good.”
“Don’t mess with me like that! You’ll stoke my ego.”
Lumine stifles a laugh. “For all I know, it could be true. We haven’t sparred in so long.”
“We haven’t done a lot of things in so long.”
She feels her face burn at the insinuation.
“All the time for you to get stronger, or better with a bow,” Lumine says, trying to change the subject. This puts a contemplative look on Childe’s face.
“‘You’re always getting stronger.’ Didn’t you say that to me before?” he asks.
“Maybe.”
She was always saying the most ridiculous things to him, especially in the heat of the battle.
“‘And I’m just reclaiming what once was mine.’ I remember that, too. I was so surprised that you’d say something so arrogant,” Childe says. He must be trying to get a rise out of her.
“Are you really going to hold that over my head?”
He considers this. “Then we’re even.”
“About what?”
“Everything, probably.”
Childe offers her a half-hearted smile, and Lumine returns it.
“It’s probably stupid of me to ask this,” he says, “but what are you doing the rest of the day? Other than solving all of Fontaine’s problems, of course.”
“I’m not getting involved,” Lumine says, knowing that’s probably a lie considering how easy trouble finds her. “Paimon and I got invited to a magic show at the opera house.”
“Getting tickets seems to be a fight of its own. You really do have friends in high places, Lumi.”
His face goes red, and Lumine avoids his gaze. It’s best to ignore the slip-up.
“N–not really. Paimon and I ran into the performers yesterday, and they both helped us get out of trouble.”
“The great Lyney and Lynette,” Childe says with a flourish. “They really are the talk of the Court.”
“Heh. They sure are. Speaking of which . . . I should probably get back to Paimon. I really don’t want to miss the aquabus.”
“Would you like some company?”
Lumine looks at him, bewildered. Then she decides he probably isn’t planning anything, and she nods. They fall into a rhythm beside each other, hands in their pockets. His presence beside her makes her tick, like she’s poised to blow. This is the longest conversation they’ve had with each other in over a year, after all.
She already has a lot to think about—and yet he insists on slipping into her thoughts, annoyingly.
She has to leave for the magic show and figure out the aquabus lines and think about Childe’s duel and decide which lead to follow and—
He sparred with someone.
It’s ridiculous.
Lumine can’t get it out of her head.
Out of everything going on with her life, this is inconsequential. It’s just who he is. He’s painfully annoying about battle and constant improvement. Yet he’s also a diligent student. He’s good with his family in a way that she’s always found endearing—
“Mora for your thoughts?” he teases her.
She scoffs and pushes the familiar image of her leg around his waist out of her mind. “That’s nothing for you.”
“Then how about a good old trade? Information for information.”
Because she loves a good game, she nods.
“How did you end up meeting that Champion Duelist?” she asks first.
“That’s really what you want to know?”
“Yes. Pay up, Mr. Tartaglia.”
Childe tilts his head as they walk. “I’ve been working my way through their ranks. Eventually, I beat someone with a strong enough connection to her who vouched for my skills, and they were able to get us to meet.”
“That’s cute.”
“Hardly. We both left with bruises last night. Look.” He holds out his arm for Lumine to examine the long cut along his forearm. “She got me good here.”
It’s obviously fairly fresh, and she wants to lecture him on not bandaging the wound, but she holds back her concern.
“So much for no one in the Harbor wanting to spar with you. It looks like Fontaine takes to you more kindly.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” Lumine says. “I’m happy for you. You’re getting everything you’ve wanted, I’m sure.”
“Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“Fake-happy for me.”
Lumine stops, leaving Childe a step ahead of her. This quartier isn’t swarming with people in the morning, so they don’t have to avoid walking paths when they stand.
“Why do you think I’m not really happy for you?”
“I don’t know,” Childe says. “Maybe because you’re acting so weird around me?”
“I’m the weird one? I think you deserve that title more than I do.”
“If I’m being weird, it’s because I have a good reason!”
Lumine scoffs, folding her arms. “Do tell.”
“Hey, trade’s not done. My turn. I want to know how supposedly happy you are for me.”
She really just wants to tell him that he’s being an ass, but instead she sighs against her residual anger.
“I’m happy that you keep finding ways to challenge yourself. I’m happy that you still keep in touch with your family. I’m happy that you seem to be doing good with work. And I’m happy that–that you keep finding people to fight with! I’m happy that you forgot about me, and you seem to be doing great!”
There’s an awkward, angry pause that makes Lumine want to figure out a shortcut back to the hotel, and then Childe just has to go further.
“Is this about our history?”
“What else is it supposed to be about?”
He looks away from her. “You blame me.”
“No.”
“You blame yourself.”
“I don’t know! You’re the one who left Liyue, Childe. I had to learn from the receptionist.”
“You left first! And you didn’t even write. So I thought that was your way of letting me down easy!”
Lumine takes a breath and closes her eyes to ground herself.
It’s not entirely true to say she never tried to write—she could just never figure out the right thing to say to him. That much hasn’t changed.
“I didn’t end things . . . it just fizzled out,” she says, hoping she doesn’t sound too down about it. “We both knew what would happen if we started something. We should be glad it lasted as long as it did.”
“I didn’t want to end it,” Childe admits.
He steps closer to her and slips his hand in hers. Even after so long, it feels warm. Against all her judgment, Lumine doesn’t protest.
“Me neither.”
“So why are things so weird between us?”
You feel like an open wound, she wants to say, but instead she steps in to meet him, making no effort to move away. He looks at her like it’s the last time.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
He eyes her lips, and she feels the familiar feeling of her stomach twisting in the best way possible.
“Trying to forget you.”
He looks absolutely gorgeous in the soft morning light, and Lumine can’t remember why she spent so long running from this in the beginning. She isn’t even sure how it all fell apart. Maybe she shouldn’t be putting herself in these situations. The part of her that misses it, that’s cloaked in regret, disagrees.
“So do it,” she challenges him.
As it happens, the actual last time she kisses Childe, it’s after they pull each other in an abandoned alleyway in the Court of Fontaine. There’s nothing sweeter than justice, and this feels like the end of a long punishment.
But this is the last time, really. Probably.
Probably not.
##
His Vision is cold.
It feels like frosted metal in her pocket, and she has to keep touching it to remind herself that it is not actually covered in ice. All she feels is the smooth glass casing and its sharp edges.
Throughout her investigations with Navia, this is the only time Lumine allows herself to think of anything even related to Childe. There are new mysteries to unravel—there always are—and she cannot afford to be too distracted.
Yet she can’t shake the feeling that he doomed himself by giving her his Vision.
In a way, she’s probably right.
She and Navia go their separate ways, leaving Lumine reeling from the newest development.
“You know, he was always bound to get arrested,” Paimon says as they walk out of the Court and to the coastline. “Paimon just can’t believe they didn’t get him for all the other things he actually did!”
Lumine laughs half-heartedly, mostly for her own good. She toes the edge of the water, watching as the small waves fall over her feet. Paimon floats around her anxiously.
“Hey, don’t feel worried. You know that he can hold his own! And Navia’s a master with words.”
“I know that,” she says.
“The only thing we can do for him right now is get that evidence. It will make you feel a lot better than just standing here, imagining what’s going on in the opera house. Paimon promises!”
Lumine nods and smiles at Paimon before walking a bit further and slipping under the waves. The water fills her lungs, so that must be why she feels like she can’t breathe.
##
Once Vacher is taken away, they’re finally able to talk for a minute before Childe is whisked away to the stand. The aisle in the middle of the opera house is not a very private place, but it’s enough given the circumstances.
Lumine really doesn’t know what she wants to say to him first, but she settles on, “Are you alright?”
“I am, thanks. You and your friend really came to my rescue this time.”
He doesn’t look that shaken up to the normal person, but she knows better—especially with his Vision in her possession.
Strange mood, he’s in.
“Don’t cause a scene up there. I still want to come back.”
“Even after being locked in here for an entire day?” Childe laughs. “Trouble is always on your tail, isn’t it, girlie?”
“Makes sense that I ran into you here, then.”
That gets another smile out of him, and nothing more, because the Gardes are starting to walk towards them to break up their conversation.
Lumine joins Paimon at the front of the audience—people are starting to leave their seats now that the trial is as good as over. She gives her friend a reassuring nod before focusing her attention on Childe, now back above.
Neuvillette wastes no time making his verdict, and in the eyes of the people, the Harbinger is as good as innocent. As innocent as a Harbinger can be, of course. “According to the judgment of the Oratrice Mecanique d’Analyse Cardinale, Mr. Tartaglia is—”
Lumine catches Childe’s gaze and offers a small, teasing smirk. If he sees it, he smiles back at her. Maybe after this is over, and she has a chance to approach Furina under different circumstances, they can spend some time together—
“—Guilty.”
Fate has never been on her side, has it?