Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For as many countries as Charlotte has been to, and as many places that she has seen, she always feels as if she is somewhere special whenever she visits Liyue Harbor. Through its crowded streets and endless array of markets, matched with open skies and wide bridges, it seems less gaudy and imposing than the Court of Fontaine, yet it still manages to encompass a large part of a whole country within a single location.

Now that she is here for the Lantern Rite Festival, with lanterns lining the tops of every roof and kites lifted high into the sky, she is inclined to believe that she has somehow underestimated the capacities of the city.

It is the kites that truly fascinate her, the festival’s namesake aside. They stand proudly over the harbor, flying freely even without a breeze. No matter how well-crafted a design, that shouldn’t be possible for Liyue’s traditional kites…

Her eyes widen. Yes, the artwork and decoration is Liyue through and through, but the mechanical design also includes unmistakable aspects of Fontanian technology.

“It’s nice to witness the fruits of your labor firsthand, isn’t it?”

She stills at the sudden voice, then spins around, camera clutched tightly to her chest.

A young woman stands before her in the middle of the street, with her hair, dress, and eyes all different shades of purple. Blue linings and brown tights are accented by golden patterns, and twintails fall loosely below her shoulders.

Cute, Charlotte mentally supplies, before she jolts. Stop that!

“Uh— hello?” She tries, then winces and starts over again. “What do you mean, my labor?”

A small frown appears on the other woman’s face. “A Fontanian with pink hair, a red hat, and a camera wherever she goes… you’re Charlotte, yes? The journalist Ningguang sought out during the Genius Invokation TCG tournament?

Charlotte blinks. “Ah, that’s me. And you are…?”

The other woman freezes. “Oh— sorry, I’m Keqing,” she apologizes, easy confidence tinged with sudden embarrassment. “Did the Tianquan never mention me?”

Keqing?

“Oh, she did!” Charlotte lights up. “From the Qixing, right?”

Keqing nods in relief, and Charlotte breathes out quietly.

Ningguang mentioned Keqing during their conversations, yes, the forward-thinking architectural savant who refuses to be anything less than the hardest worker in the room.

Ningguang omitted that the Yuheng is wreathed in royal color from tip to toe, and Charlotte has half a mind to curse her out for failing to mention that one of her colleagues radiates such command.

Granted, that course of action would be highly incompatible with her desire to hold further interviews, so perhaps she should refrain from causing an international incident.

“Still, though,” Charlotte says, “how did I contribute to the festival?”

“Well, I fail to see how Liyue would’ve gotten access to your contacts for the kite design otherwise,” Keqing says. “The central theme of this year’s festival would’ve been left to the mercy of the weather.”

Charlotte’s mouth parts. “Wait, this is all from that meeting?”

When she had spoken to the Tianquan, she had half-expected to be commissioned for an article or investigation, but all Ningguang had done was ask her for a few introductions with people within the Fontaine Research Institute. In truth, she had felt rather undersold.

Who knew that those fragments of connection were all that the Qixing needed to forge an entirely new product— and at that, one worthy enough to headline one of their highest festivals?

“Without your contribution, the expertise behind the designs for this year’s Lantern Rite would’ve been much harder to acquire,” Keqing offers. “Therefore, I would consider your efforts to be a substantial factor for our success.”

The Yuheng pauses, looking Charlotte up and down carefully, and Charlotte sees a decision click behind light purple eyes.

“There is still far more to see in the festival,” Keqing says. “Would you like to take a tour with me?”

Access to a second member of the Qixing, Charlotte thinks, insider information on Liyue’s structure and organization, a chance to highlight the spreading of Fontanian technology…

She beams. “Of course!”

— — —

As Keqing has promised, Lantern Rite’s attractions stretch across the entire harbor. Moving picture paper screens and lantern-collecting races fill the city from street to dock, adding something new to every corner. Charlotte allows Keqing to guide her through the clamor, taking notes and pictures as the Yuheng walks her through each activity’s process and history.

In the end, though, they return to the kites, and Keqing leads them to the market overlooking Liyue’s sea.

Children flood the vendors on either side of the wharf, and Charlotte hears a chirped “Thanks for the toys, Miss Zhenyuan!” as one of them skips away, mechanical kite in hand.

Keqing flinches, and lowers her head as she mutters, “Toys…?”

Charlotte turns, looking over at her guide. “For those that young, everything is a toy,” she points out. “Even if I gave them my Cryo vision, they might see it as nothing more than a way to make a snowman.”

Keqing looks up at her, only slightly placated. “I suppose you’re right,” she says, “but still…”

“Miss Keqing!” The vendor straightens as she sees the two of them. “Are you here to purchase a kite?”

“Hello, Zhenyuan.” Keqing greets. “What do you have available?”

“Not Sweet-Flower Medakas, that’s for sure,” Zhenyuan sighs. “Every year I stock more of them than any other kite, and every year I run out of them faster than the last. What good is a symbol of abundance if the whole country depletes it in a week?”

Charlotte snaps her head towards the vendor. “Symbol of abundance?”

Zhenyuan turns to her. “Ah— you aren’t from Liyue, are you? Fish are considered a sign of plenty here, with how many fill the seas. It says something that the people’s eagerness to chase future wealth has run them out of what already existed, doesn’t it?”

“Every kite represents a quality wished for by its flier,” Keqing adds, carefully brushing through a myriad of designs that fill the store. “The Jade Chamber for prosperity, the butterfly for freedom, the Whopperflower for intelligence… whatever a person wants to find in the upcoming year will be represented within the kite they choose.”

“Oh! Similar to Fontaine’s language of flowers, then?” Charlotte asks.

Keqing shrugs, hand trailing idly down a paper butterfly. “I wouldn’t know— I haven’t been to the nation of Hydro. But if you mean a system in which flowers are given or displayed to tie complex concepts to Fontaine’s regional history, then yes, I would consider the comparison broadly accurate.”

And far more, Charlotte translates inwardly, than just a jumble of toys.

She stares at Keqing for a moment, reflecting on how the Yuheng clings to the kites in almost forlorn fashion. “This would make for a good article, wouldn’t it?”

Keqing starts, eyes widening in interest. “Yes, I think so. I have a collection of books on the topic, if you were in need of resources— but wouldn’t it detract from your focus on the Lantern Rite?”

“Since kites are the main theme for this year, I’d be remiss not to explore the reason for their importance,” Charlotte points out. “Besides, I have to find a way to relate the festival to Fontaine if I want my article to get more than a passing glance. If the kites already incorporate Fontanian technology, I might as well investigate how they align with our own cultural symbols.”

She’s telling nothing but the truth, really. The Steambird isn’t particularly favorable to purely international news, and in any case, her article wouldn’t be complete without an analysis of the newly designed kites.

Still, though, seeing the Yuheng light up like an employee at the Fontaine Research Institute who’s just been asked to explain their newest paper is a notably welcome side effect of her decision.

“I’ll show you to my house, then,” Keqing says, and Charlotte blinks.

“Your house?” She echoes.

“Where else do you think I keep my books?” Keqing asks. “I have everything in order, so you won’t have any trouble finding what you need.”

“Oh, I see. I’ll hold you to that,” Charlotte says playfully, but inside she wonders. Does the Yuheng offer such open access to everyone she meets, or am I a special case?

A cough rings out behind the two of them, and Zhenyuan stands by the kites in amusement, having finished dealing with another customer entirely.

“I appreciate the dedication both of you show to your work,” the vendor says in only mild reproach, “but this is a kite stall, so if you don’t mind…?”

“Ah, sorry!” Charlotte blushes. “One red Whopperflower, please!”

— — —

Keqing’s house is as in order as she claims, and Charlotte has no trouble weaving her way through the Yuheng’s catalog, selecting a trove of books to pore through with a notebook in hand. Keqing sits idly by with a plate of Golden Shrimp Balls on her desk, watching as Charlotte rifles through kite designs of swallow, finch, and suanni.

“If I may ask, why did you choose the Whopperflower?” Keqing says between mouthfuls of shrimp. “I know that it was a bit of a rushed decision, but I was curious if you had any deeper consideration.”

Charlotte looks up at the Yuheng, pages lax between her fingers. “Well, you said that it represents intelligence, didn’t you? I thought that there might not be any more useful a quality, given my occupation.”

“You wouldn’t be much of a journalist if you couldn’t detect when you were being fed falsehoods,” Keqing nods. “The Whopperflower is a bit more complex than just intelligence, though— given its deceptive nature, it represents cunning, or if you wish to detect it, alertness to danger.”

“That works too!” Charlotte chirps. “It’ll help me whenever I publish an exposé, then. There’s only so much Euphrasie can do for me if I decide to wander around unprotected by the Steambird, after all.”

Keqing freezes. “What?”

“The usual retaliation, you know,” Charlotte shrugs, turning back to her books as she talks absentmindedly. “The food merchant was a particularly rough patch, though. Mud all over the door to my office, and threatening letters waiting for me when I got home… that’s why I left Fontaine to chase the Genius Invokation story for a while, actually.”

She looks back up at Keqing to see the plate of Golden Shrimp Balls forgotten and a hard stare fixed directly on her person, and belatedly realizes that that story might sound just a little scarier than she intended.

“It’s all over now, so I’m fine!” Charlotte rushes to reassure the Yuheng. “It’s not normally nearly that bad, anyway, since that kind of thing only increases the amount of charges they’ll receive. The Whopperflower might help me have a little more foresight in those situations, is all.”

Keqing absorbs her words in silence, lowering her gaze slowly, and Charlotte breathes out as she is released from the pressure hidden within purple eyes.

“I worked in the Chasm mines a few years ago, to help the Millelith take down a company known for corruption,” Keqing says, “and when the executives were dragged into the Yuehai Pavilion for interrogation, well, they must’ve known how so much evidence had been gathered against them. I was quite happy with myself for that investigation, and wondered why others didn’t do more of the same. But it must’ve been selfish of me not to consider the backlash anyone else would receive— not many are foolish enough to threaten a member of the Qixing, after all.”

Now it is Charlotte’s turn to freeze. “You worked in the Chasm? While you were on the Qixing?”

“It was something that had to be done,” Keqing shrugs. “I worked at the wharf and some diners before too, actually, although that was less to catch criminals and more to develop policy plans. I came out of those jobs as a healthy advocate for reforming Liyue’s labor law, that’s for sure.”

The Yuheng returns to her shrimp, only to note the dumbfounded sparkle in Charlotte’s eyes, and smiles sheepishly. “I suppose that neither of us have very usual exploits, do we?”

“Our mutual surprise seems to prove you right,” Charlotte agrees, then leans forward. “But that’s amazing! Did the public ever learn about what you did?”

“The crimes themselves were more important than whoever discovered them, so no,” Keqing says. “In any case, it may have been a bit hard for people to believe that I would personally engage in such activity.”

“Are you kidding me? It would be front-page news if I broke the story right now!” Charlotte beams. “New details from the Millelith’s Chasm investigation, featuring the Yuheng’s ground-level involvement… You’d never get such a shock on the citizens’ faces!”

She stops herself short, halting her own excitement.

“That would be way outside of the scope of my article, though,” she admits.

“Yes, it would be,” Keqing smiles. “Back to the scissor-tailed swallow kite for you. These books are published to be read, you know.”

Charlotte weaves a laugh into a pleasant sigh, and returns to Keqing’s literature, immersing herself once again in the varying meanings of the kite’s colors.

As the hours slip by easily, and she can feel her article on Lantern Rite forming within her notebook, something else tugs at her, a story of chasms and carts and hoods to conceal a beacon of purple hair.

“Charlotte, focus on the piece you were asked to write,” she chides herself. “Everything else can come later.”

But still, as she looks up at Keqing, the woman happily entranced by what is now her second plate of Golden Shrimp Balls—

It means something when I think I have a story on my hands, doesn’t it?

— — —

The day of the Lantern Rite itself arrives, and to no surprise, a cacophony of lanterns soar into Liyue’s night sky. Charlotte climbs atop a balcony with Keqing by her side, watching fireworks detonate overhead with wide eyes and her red Whopperflower kite bound to the railing.

“You get to watch this every year?” She breathes out.

Keqing smiles. “I have to organize it as well, which takes away some of the wonder, but if you ask me, I replace that with the satisfaction of seeing it all unfold.”

“And the stress of worrying that you’ll be responsible if something goes wrong… I know the feeling,” Charlotte smiles back.

Suddenly, lights flicker off around the city, and Charlotte pales. “Don’t tell me I just—”

Keqing rests a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. This is still part of the event.”

Drums begin to ring out in the center of the harbor’s gate, drawing all eyes to a figure standing on top of the water. Bright red clothes and cape shine out like a beacon within the dimmed city, leaping into the air as Charlotte registers the beast-like mask on the performer’s head.

The figure descends in a surge of flame, and Charlotte startles, whirring her camera as fire flares across the sea and between the lanterns. In a trail of embers, the performer races across the water and up onto Liyue’s buildings, stacking lanterns to create a pillar as they go.

“Wushou dancing: an art form that mimics Liyue’s animals, emphasizing the speed, athleticism, and agility that lies within the mountains,” Keqing provides. “Of course, for Yip Gaming, his ability to wield Pyro adds another spark to his performances.”

The Yuheng breathes out slowly, then starts, withdrawing her hand from Charlotte’s shoulder. “Ah— apologies.”

Charlotte’s only response is to turn her camera around, and Keqing smiles, stepping away from the edge of the balcony to settle into a confident pose, one hand on her hips and the other by her side.

The sound of an empty canister greets Charlotte as the shutter clicks hollowly, and she yelps, lowering her camera and reaching for more film as Keqing’s expression breaks into a surprised smile. Perhaps her photo-taking was a bit too indiscriminate, or at least not very economical?

As kites begin to loose into the air from the people below, and Charlotte lets the head of her Whopperflower kite fly as she reloads her camera, she is struck by a sudden thought. That image wasn’t going to be perfect, right?

The thought sticks with her even as a kite shaped like a brilliant crane lofts through the city, carrying the wind in its wake, even as she raises her camera again and captures the Yuheng on film proper. Something about this moment was lost— something about Keqing that isn’t easily grasped.

For the moment, she allows herself to be swept away in the festival, and her work is forgotten.

But after the Lantern Rite has ended, and she and Keqing descend from the balcony onto Liyue’s streets, she cuts off the Yuheng’s goodbyes with an outstretched hand. “Wait— one more photo?”

Keqing pauses, looking at Charlotte curiously. “Don’t you already have all you need? I heard your rolls of film run out— multiple times, actually.”

“I need to take one more, trust me,” Charlotte tells her, and Keqing settles into a pose obligingly. “It‘ll be quick!”

Charlotte has always been an instinctual photographer. She observes movement above all else, taking sharp pictures to encapsulate fast-developing scenes, and so she rarely has time to second-guess what settings she has on her camera.

Within the lingering euphoria of the Lantern Rite’s conclusion, she doesn’t question a thing. She adjusts a few sliders, aims at Keqing, and presses the shutter.

— — —

The next day, as Charlotte settles down on the second floor of the Yangshang Teahouse to peruse her newly developed photos, she discovers that her instincts have betrayed her.

The last photo in her collection is set to minimum depth of field. Keqing stands proudly in the center of the image, the rest of Liyue a blur behind her.

She stares uncomprehendingly for a moment, then crumples onto her table, her head dropping onto her photographs as a dark blue-haired woman wearing a strange white mantle turns around to look over in amusement.

She’s writing an article about Lantern Rite, not the Qixing. The festival should be in focus, the fruits of Liyue’s labor clearly visible, certainly not reduced to a blurry backdrop behind the person of interest.

She specifically told Keqing she needed this photograph, and it won’t even make it into the Steambird!

Well, it’s not a bad picture, even if I can’t publish it, Charlotte consoles herself. Good lighting, nice pose, pretty eyes— not helping!

She shoves her photos back into her album, flushing red, and slides even further onto the table.

A low chuckle sounds from behind her, and she shoots up and around to see the blue-haired woman above her, a dice spinning idly between her fingers.

“And here I thought I was going to have a chance to find out what was making you so despondent,” the woman hums. “Whatever do you have that you can’t stand looking at?”

Charlotte blinks. “Um, you are…?”

“Just a regular at this teahouse,” the woman dismisses. “I was told to deliver a message to you, but apparently you came to me.”

A thin white envelope emerges through the woman’s gloved hands, and Charlotte takes it from her gingerly.

The center of the envelope is stamped with the seal of the Qixing, and Charlotte tears it open without a second thought.

Miss Charlotte,

I hope you enjoyed this year’s Lantern Rite. I found our conversations over this past week quite enlightening— if it is not too much to ask, I would hope that our correspondence could last beyond this occasion. After all, such enlightening friendships are hard to come by, and it would be a pity to lose you to physical distance when letters are readily available.

If you do not have to return to Fontaine urgently, please consider meeting me at Wanmin Restaurant at your earliest convenience. I’ve heard exceptional praise for their cuisine from foreigners who came to visit the festival— perhaps you could join me in investigating the reasoning behind their opinions?

Warmly,

Keqing

For a moment, something fluttery nestles within Charlotte’s chest, and she folds the letter back inside the envelope with careful hands.

This is not at all relevant to my understanding of the Lantern Rite, she thinks.

Then she turns to the letter’s deliverer, who is currently peering over her shoulder with unabashed interest. “Miss?”

The blue-haired woman looks down at her. “Yes?”

Charlotte swallows. “Where is Wanmin Restaurant?”

The woman raises her eyebrows. “Exceedingly close by, actually. Take a right from here into the plaza and go straight ahead, and you’ll see its green sign on the left— hey, where are you going?”

Charlotte has already shot up from her seat, tucking her photo album at her side and whirling for the open street. “Thank you! Tell Miss Chuyi I’m sorry I didn’t buy anything but I have to go right now. I’ll come back later, I promise!”

“The letter said ‘at your earliest convenience’, not this very instant,” the blue-haired woman tries, but her words are swallowed by the rush of footsteps down wooden stairs, leaving her to stare in bemusement as Charlotte tears out of the Yangshang Teahouse.

Good lighting, Charlotte thinks, nice pose, pretty eyes, minimum depth of field…

Though it was during the Lantern Rite, she confesses to herself, I may have taken that picture in the context of a different kind of article.

And, Archons willing, she would like to take more.

Chapter Text