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Terse silence encapsulated the room.
Xiao’s posture was polite, poised. Head bowed, hands folded in his lap, demure expression unphased. It was his damn eyes that gave away his surprise, constantly darting about the table.
Director Hu Tao usually broke these uncomfortable moments. For this one, though, she held her tongue–though her half-swallowed grin still showed.
“Of course, we trust your sensitivities to the matter of discretion.” Zhongli brought the attention of all back upon himself. “It’s a simple matter of celebration for those we’re close with, yes?”
Tartaglia leaned back against Zhongli, taking a sweeping view of the others in the room. “C’mon, I know you’ve all been gossiping about this for months. Don’t act like this is news, guys.”
“Congratulations.” Xiao immediately followed the word with a gulp of alcohol. “Just us? Or breaking it to everyone gently, slowly?”
Zhongli studied Xiao for a moment. His eyes told all; “You knew this was coming.”
“He’s asking if Venti’s coming,” Hu Tao chipped in.
Colour sprung up Xiao’s cheeks. Tartaglia let out a low chuckle, eliciting a puzzled glance from Zhongli. “Someone’s got to entertain.” Xiao kept his words short.
“Hope he’s gonna catch the bouquet?” Tartaglia leaned forward, eyes gleaming. In an instant, Xiao recognised he was on the battlefield. “More like someone’s gotta entertain you .”
Xiao crossed his arms. Chin up, shoulders back. Relax, take up space. “I’d rather not watch you and Morax make out all night. That’s a matter of taste, I suppose.”
Tartaglia scoffed, mouth opening to snap back. Zhongli’s firm hand grasping his shoulder with rough force stopped him, eyes resting sternly on him and Xiao.
“Venti will be attending. As a guest, for as long as he can keep himself from entertaining.”
“There we have it! Can we dig into this fabulous dinner, now?” Hu Tao finally piped up, lightly ringing her glass with a spoon. “And truly, congrats, you two. I certainly have been gossiping, Childe. It’ll be a lovely wedding.”
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“Dearest,
Have you heard news of Morax and Childe? I’ve just found out, and I had to write you. I hope my words hold fast and fill your thoughts with me, even scripted on a lowly leaf.
But yes, it seems Celestia’s secret lovers are turning themselves to the light? I never thought I’d see a bloom in Snezhnayan snows. My, I do wonder if we should ever bloom ourselves. I suppose I’ve been inspired! I think we should attend together, let everyone see us dance together–after, of course, I can finally convince you to dance in the first place. I don’t care if you’ve two left feet, darling.
I do hope to see you in attendance. I’m sure you’ve the most dreadful thoughts in your head right now, but Morax holds you in his mind no differently. Use the night to relax, you can rest your head on my shoulder. We’ll drink, and I won’t even get drunk. Much, at least.
Do let me know what you decide, I’ll plan to be in my best should I hear even a rumour of your appearance. I’ll keep you too busy to worry a single thought.
With love,
Your Favourite Bard.”
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“So are you actually going?”
Xiao’s head snapped up. He had sat for a single moment. Before he had a chance to process who or what was in his path, the bladed end of his spear was at Tartaglia’s throat.
“Easy, Tiger!” With a light laugh, the spear was pushed aside. “I didn’t track you down or anything; just saw you hangin’ around.”
“Going to your wedding? I’m not one for such occasions.” Xiao paced, keeping himself moving. How else was he slipping up, letting Zhongli’s fiance sneak up on him with such ease?
Tartaglia’s body eased out in a languid heap, right where Xiao had sat himself. “That’s a shame.”
“You didn’t seem keen on the thought.” Xiao kept his back turned, refusing to let the irk of this inconvenience show.
“Yeah, I guess, but that was before I met with that bard…” The way he trailed off begged Xiao to perk at the mention, but he couldn’t let his guard down just yet. Xiao’s lack of reaction only gave a short pause. “Seeing the anemo archon follow you around like a drunk puppy at my wedding would be the highlight of my lifetime. You can call it my one little wish as a mortal.”
“Only if it’s your last wish.” Xiao shook his head, feeling how hot his face was. After so long in the field, it wasn’t easy to stir him. But the adrenaline in his body was so sensitive to that damn bard.
Tartaglia let out a low sigh. Xiao felt a twinge in his gut. His standoffishness seemed to have cut into Tartaglia after all this time. It had to be draining, gods knew it was for Xiao.
“Zhongli wants to see you there.” The hint of pity there snapped the guilt straight out of Xiao. “I don’t know exactly how you feel, Xiao, but I’m a blip in his life. In your life, too. I’m not taking anything from you by indulging in happiness. And Zhongli wants to see you there.”
Xiao turned, brow furrowed.
“And so does Venti.” Tartaglia’s smirk crept back out.
“I’ll go. Now get the fuck out of here, I have a job to do.”
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“My dear,
Morax came calling with the news. I’m delighted to hear our paths crossing once more; you recall how I told you the wind whispers our fates? Why, unless my presence swayed your mind? I heard that might be so, and dare I say, I am so taken by a man who makes his own destiny. You are exactly so.
Do you imagine how we’ll spend the evening? I know you, darling, you only appear after dusk. I’ll get my fill of Morax’s crowd before you arrive, don’t worry. Will you come in that same tired, sexy outfit as always? Your “heroic uniform.” God, I could eat you right up in a nice suit and pearls laid about your throat instead.
Will you take my hand, lead me out for a dance? I’ve been promising myself a dance with you, you know. I’ll need a drink after that, and I’m sure you won’t be able to keep your hands off me.
I’ve been thinking on how we can slip away, love. I want to enjoy your company so thoroughly, I won’t be able to stand being decent. How many months has it been? At any rate, I’m sure you know Liyue well enough to find us a quiet place.
Why, I’ve been so thrilled thinking of it all I haven’t calmed down. I’ll build a fantasy all on my own if you don’t put a stop to me. It all comes down to me missing you terribly, in the end. I can’t bear your secrecy. I’m just a humble bard, nowadays; is it that you wish me to be more, or less?
Anyhow, dearest, think of me, as well as your hands around me. Then, know our thoughts have crossed, as that’s all I’ve thought on for days.
Lingering in your thoughts,
A lowly bard.”
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Venti bobbed between guests, smile brightly affixed as he approached the celebrated newlyweds. These small weddings were common in their circle–immortals often found mortal companionship after tasting the bitterness of love lost. Divorce proceedings among the divine lasted an eternity, especially when those from Liyue became involved. Despite public disapproval, of course those eternal sought easier company.
“Morax, friend, did Xiao mention when he was coming?” Venti was pleased with the casual looseness in his voice.
Tartaglia rolled his eyes. Zhongli’s eyes darted sharply over.
“He said he’d come, relax.” Tartaglia slumped against Zhongli, pulling at his hand. “Even I wouldn’t be stupid enough to stand up a god. Have a drink or something.”
Venti frowned. The sun had long set. True, the celebration would go on for hours more, but he had expected Xiao by now. He huffed, spun on his heel, and set himself to the alcohol. Might as well enjoy himself.
Well into his rounds, he felt a hand around his shoulder.
Venti jumped back, looking over his shoulder to see Xiao.
“Didn’t mean to keep you waiting,” Xiao said, in his voice that Venti only heard used for him –demure, vulnerable, eager to please. “I stopped for something, and had to say hello to Zhongli.”
In a moment, Venti’s chair spun around. He and Xiao locked eyes, scanning each other hungrily. “Here.” Xiao’s hands fumbled to Venti’s–a small bundle of cecilia flowers, tied neatly with a green ribbon. Venti looked up, smiling.
“Tired from your travels?”
“Of course not.”
“A drink and a dance?”
Xiao sat beside Venti, accepting a glass of wine. “Rushing that dance to get out of here?”
“It’s so miserable here, please. You haven’t been trying to get a laugh from Morax’s stuffy crowd all day.”
“Venti.” Xiao took his hand, grazing kisses across his knuckles. “You’re not entertaining tonight, understand? You’re being entertained.”
Venti sat up a little straighter. “I’m not in the practice of that, dear yaksha. ”
Xiao’s eyelashes flickered up, then back down, briefly tickling Venti’s hand. With Venti’s attention fixed downwards, he jerked at the feeling of Xiao’s other hand reaching up to grasp his hair. A gentle tug had the air out of Venti in half a heartbeat.
“I’ll get you in practice.” Xiao released, his expression stern, unbothered.
“Xiao!” Zhongli’s voice came from behind Venti, which startled the bard once more. He gasped, clutching at his shirt whilst feigning a cardiac arrest.
“Glad to see you could make it.”
“I came as soon as I could. Doubt I’ll be able to partake for long.”
“Of course. Enjoy yourself as much as possible. Cheers,” Zhongli said, raising his flute of champagne. He’d been holding his glass in his left hand all day, likely to draw attention to the simple, golden band about his finger.
“How about that dance?” Xiao leaned close, murmuring his words in his dulcet voice. Venti’s skin was alight, eager and prickling.
“I’ve been waiting all night.” Venti accepted Xiao’s hand, and soon found himself lifted out of his chair, then placed upon his feet. “You’re really trying to impress me tonight, darling.” Venti’s voice was high, wavering, giddy. “It’s certainly working.”
A light expression resembling a smile crossed Xiao’s face for a brief moment. “I have to live up to your fantasies, don’t I?” He pulled Venti close to him, leading him away from the bar and into the small crowd of others dancing together.
Xiao was stiff as board. His body was tense, drawn tight, despite trying to dance with Venti. The bard sighed, running his palms down Xiao’s chest. “I’ve blessed you with the essence of anemo, a vision of your own. The wind flows freely through you, and yet you can’t give me one dance?”
“I’m giving you a dance.” Xiao frowned. “I’m not like you. This isn’t where I excel.” He reached up, ever so slightly, to let his lips hover near Venti’s ear. “I’ll just have to impress you even more after the dance.”
Venti pulled back, eyes alight. “Well, why don’t we escape then?”
None spared the pair a second glance, slipping out the side door, hands already roaming each other.
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“My conqueror,
I’ve just awoken, and found you gone. I’ll be dreaming of our evening together for months to come, in hopes my lonely thoughts can fill the space you deserve. I find myself quite hopeless when it comes to you.
Can you really leave me alone for so long? You know I’m yours, and you know how seriously I take that sentiment. Should you find yourself missing me, which I often doubt you do, I’m but a note away; the wind will guide your thoughts back to me.
Write me, and I’ll be on the first current over. My body still aches after you, and I expect you to take some responsibility. I at least deserve an explanation as to how you could leave a god alone in bed.
Next time, should I stay at Wangshu Inn? Would you run then? My, the innkeep may not let me back after my last stay–we shook the bed till the stars in Celestia were extinguished.
Anyway, keep my words etched into your soul, always.
Longing after you,
A wistful bard.”
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