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“I see someone is still awake. And why might that be?”
Lumine startles, swiftly arising from her seated position, the hilt of her sword coming into contact with her palm as it materializes. She lets out a shaky breath. To her relief, it is none other than Tartaglia, sauntering over to her with both hands out in front of him in faux surrender. He dons his regular Fatui attire, and the grey of his coat is further accentuated as the light of the moon dances upon it.
“Relax. I’m not looking for a fight. At least not right now.” His smile is easy, as smooth as the worn stone of the ruins she peers over. Her weapon dissipates, though the tension is still apparent in her figure, shoulders hunched and arms tense, out in front of her for a few more seconds before she awkwardly puts them back to her sides. She turns away from him in the interest of preserving a delicate facade, knowing that she had little energy to feign neutrality, as she normally liked to. She furrowed her eyebrows. Why was he even here?
“Childe..?”
“Who else would it be?” He almost scoffs, inviting himself over without delay. “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it, comrade?”
She hums softly. As much as she had found beauty in the sun’s rays, the glorious display of light that accompanied the sounds of bustling city and rural life, she enjoyed the humble glow of the moon just as much. That being said, the piercing silence of night underscored a darkness within her, and without the distractions of her daily obligations, her mind wanders into decrepit places. It is, as she describes it, her true self. She is much accustomed with her self-critical tendencies, the cruel voices in her head that seemed to feed off of the manifestation of darkness. She could normally handle it, really, she could. And when she couldn’t, she would excuse herself to wander the landscape, hoping it would ground her, soothe her, tether her to something in the midst of her traversing the endless void in her mind. But she was normally alone on these nights out, teleporting and walking across the great expanse of land to minimize contact with other folks. Even Paimon was typically fast asleep by the time she slipped away, the little one oblivious to the missing presence besides her in the bed. Tonight, it seemed, would be different, and she only hoped she could fix her mask back into place before it had completely shattered.
“What… are you doing here?” She keeps her back turned, eyes downcast onto solid concrete. “You’re not going to collect any interesting intel from me, if that’s what you are here for.”
“What, can I not take a late night stroll?” He feigns offence. “I just happened to see you pass by, and decided to pay a little visit. We’re friends after all, aren’t we?”
She had learned that outside of their missions, he had seen her as a friend, of sorts. She can’t necessarily disagree with that, but she couldn’t quite confirm it either. Though she could not disregard the terse air around them, she was grateful to meet another person that viewed matters such as those in a similar light. Business mode on, business mode off. Everyone has to have their time, and she couldn’t view any one person as just their role or their duty, even if the hypothetical individual worked for her enemy.
Even so, it was strange that he had followed her all this way, and worse more so that she hadn’t even noticed him. She always disliked the way her senses dulled when she was mulling over something of an emotional nature.
“You’re always so silent. I can’t help but wonder what goes on in that head of yours,” he cocks his head to the side, smirking. “Care to indulge me?”
She sighs. “Again, I tell you there is nothing I can share with you that would be of use to the Fatui.”
“And I also tell you, again, that I am off duty, comrade. You worry too much.” He reaches over to ruffle her hair, but she evades him at the last moment.
He huffs, and it’s clear that he’s becoming frustrated with her standoffish demeanor. “Come now, comrade, there’s no need to be so guarded.” Lumine can hear the bite in his voice, an icy edge to his words that should intimidate her. Unfortunately, she was far too exhausted, too apathetic to really care for her own safety right now.
“I have no reason to trust you.” She mutters, and she wished she hadn’t sounded so meek. Perhaps there was a part of her that wished to talk to someone, anyone, if it meant she could unload the heavy burden on her shoulders.
“Hey, don’t be like that,” He says playfully, nudging her arm with his elbow. She was always unsettled by how quickly his moods shift, like the constant shadows that lurk in the corner of her eyes- always out of reach, always looming too close for comfort. “What have I ever done to betray your trust? Surely nothing personal?”
She scoffs at him, and she is surprised, herself, at her bitter behavior. Sure, she appreciated keeping people at arm’s length, but to go as far as to display disdain at another's company, even if said individual was a part of the organization she loathed- that was awfully abnormal of her.
She sighs, feeling resigned. Could it really hurt to indulge him if it meant quelling the roaring storm within her?
“Well… then I propose a deal.”
“Would you look at that- who’s getting all professional on me now?” He squints his eyes as he tries to make sense of her words.
“Okay, okay… how about a promise then?” She looks up, examining the expression on his face, and it morphs into something akin to curiosity. She senses no hint of rejection. She could only hope the illumination of the moon hadn’t played tricks on her eyes.
“And what would that entail, exactly?” He scans her features for any indication of the upcoming proposition, and he senses that she has become more serious now. Perhaps, she had even seemed a little somber.
“I… tell you what’s on my mind. And you sit here and listen, without judgement, without mentioning this to anyone.” She stares into his unreadable eyes as she says this. “What do you say?”
He thinks for a moment, tilting his head back slightly, and shrugs. “Sure, why not.”
She was a little shocked to find him agreeing to her terms so readily, but she doesn't complain. In fact, she decides to take a little risk in lieu of his open attitude.
“And, I would like to ask for an additional favor.”
At that, he chuckles, and his eyes crinkle as he gazes at her. “And what do I get in return?”
“I will spar with you later this week. I may have substantial weaknesses,” At least compared to her prior form, she thinks to herself, “but I promise it will still be interesting.”
He actually laughs at that. “You can't seriously think I’ve forgotten about our previous duels, comrade. It is always a delight to face off against the likes of you. I’ve learned better by now than to underestimate you, so you best give yourself some more credit. All fighters have their weaknesses after all.”
What an… oddly kind thing to say, especially from Childe. If it was a compliment about combat, she knew he had to be sincere about it.
“Thank… you. I hope you know that kindness will not pay for an extra favor.”
“I know, I know. You could even say it’s-”
“Please sto-”
“Complimentary.”
“You are impossible.” She groans, and he laughs at her again, and she hears the egregious sound echo on the stone pillars of the ruins.
She allows a silence to fall between them, and she ponders about her decision. Would this be a mistake? This was Tartaglia she was speaking to, after all, and she hadn’t talked to him much about personal matters before, much less emotional ones. She didn’t know what to expect. He seems to sense her hesitation, and he speaks up, lest she take back her offer to fight him again.
“I won’t be here all night, comrade. Best explain to me what’s going on before-”
Tartaglia wasn’t prepared when she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around his torso as she buried her face into the crook of his shoulder. She hears him take in a quick breath, his body tenses from the sudden contact, but he seems to lower his guard after registering what was happening.
“Hey, what are you-”
“Please… don’t say anything. Please just hug me.” There is a tautness to her voice, as though the very words she uttered were stretched thin around her heart, and he can tell that she’s crying now. And so, he does, hesitantly moving his arms around her to pull her closer. He can feel her hiccuping as she sobs, and he rubs gentle circles into her back, not saying anything.
A good minute goes by before she pulls away from him, and she knows that her eyes and nose have already begun turning red based on Childe’s expression. She doesn’t say a word at first, she doesn’t think there could be any right thing to say in a situation like this. Luckily, he breaks the silence for her.
“Comrade… What's wrong? I’ve never seen you look so… defeated before.” His voice is void of its normal playful lilt, the usual edge to his words softened. It seems that as much as she will share with him, he will share with her, and she finds she likes this new side of her friend.
“I… I just…” She trails off. She feels as though the air has been stolen from her lungs.
“It’s, it’s okay,” he reassures her, giving her a soft smile. It almost looks awkward on his features. “Just take your time, and talk to me when you’re ready, alright?”
His gentle tone. The intention behind his words. The quiet, but ever present attention he gives her. It… reminds her of-
She lets out a shaky breath. “I… I do not have a way of saying this delicately, forgive me. But I feel nothing short of awful right now.” She takes in another breath and the opportunity to look up at Childe, but all she sees is his concerned countenance.
“I feel terrible. Pathetic. A waste of space, even. I… have done little to nothing today, and I fear I cannot forgive myself for it. I see so many others striving to do their best, giving their absolute all every day, and I have barely even left my room save for this excursion.” She laughs dryly. How could she remain idle, after all, when her dear brother was still missing, likely in peril and searching endlessly for her? She wonders if he still cares for her at all, after the centuries of their being torn apart. She swallows the lump that’s formed in her throat.
“I cannot help but feel it is better to end my life, in times like these. I am useless to the world. I am not the hero that I desire to be, the valiant person that the others describe me as. In the end, I’m just a fraud. A nobody. And no one would miss the likes of me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” Tartaglia’s voice cuts in, though it lacks its regular projection. He sighs, turning his body towards her now. “Because I know many people that will miss you. Many people you’ve interacted with, and changed for the better.”
She clicks her tongue, stifling a sardonic laugh. “And what brings you to this conclusion so readily?”
He places a hand on her shoulder. There is a warmth that emits from the contact. “Because I am one of those people, Lumine.”
She looks at him puzzled, incredulously, almost. She knew he had called her a friend, but she often thought he meant it in the casual, aloof way. But now, this felt anything but careless, casual, aloof.
“I admit, it would sound better coming from someone that actually does good works for Teyvat,” he chuckles, “But that doesn’t change the fact that it is true. Our friendship isn’t just founded on conflict and convenience, though I will admit it started that way. But now that we have become more acquainted with each other, I've begun looking forward to our time together- not only on the battlefield, but also idly chatting like this, accompanying you on commissions, doing anything, really.”
“My actions may not be morally sound, but my honesty is. And I am telling you, in all honesty, that you are wanted here. That you are loved. And most of all, that you deserve to live.”
Lumine is stunned at that. Although she felt some doubt in regards to Childe’s words, she couldn’t dismiss this feeling, a distant hope that they could be a portrayal of how he perceived her.
“How do I know you’re not just saying that?”
He hums, looking up into the starry night sky. “Well, other than having no benefits in lying to you, I don’t think an unsympathetic person would care to notice your pained expression, and follow you into the middle of nowhere to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”
Her eyes widened. So that was the reason he was here?
He chuckles softly at that. “So, you’ve figured me out, huh?”
A maelstrom of emotions whirl within Lumine as she processes Tartaglia’s sentiments. He really meant all of that? Underneath everything, despite his duties, even, he cared for her? She felt a hint of warmth bloom in her chest at that idea, knowing there was at least someone out there that wanted her alive. But… she still couldn’t shake off the heaviness. The everpresent guilt. The overarching desire to end her life. She sighs, running a hand through her hair as she thinks.
“I… Thank you. Your words mean so much to me, more than you know,” She murmurs, watching the way the wind rustles his hair. “I just wish I could say I felt all better now, that I’ve changed my mind. But… it would be a lie.” She laughs again to herself. “It’s funny, you know. That the greatest threat to my safety, my life even, is my own self.”
It is Tartaglia’s turn to laugh, a wry smile on his face. “Funnily enough, I know the feeling all too well.” He takes in a breath, lets it go. “It’s okay if you’re not okay, comrade. Take the time you need to mourn the day that has been lost. But know, that when the dawn breaks, you have the opportunity to rise once again. Though, even if you don’t,” he smiles at her now, genuine, gentle. “I’ll still be here for you all the same.”