Chapter Text
The snezhnayan delicately adjusted his mask before walking confidently into the main hall of the Fontaine Opera House. Elegant suits, extravagant dresses, and masks in dozens of different colors concealed the identities of those attending the gala organized by the former Hydro Archon. Tartaglia was just one of many guests who had been invited to participate in a private evening at the Opera Epiclesis.
The harbinger wasn't particularly excited about the masquerade, but he was only there for two reasons: to please his queen, who had forced him to attend in order to maintain formalities and good relations with Fontaine; the other reason is Lumine. Simply and purely Lumine. He hadn't had a chance to talk to her privately since their paths crossed thanks to Arlecchino, so he just wanted to see her again and maybe ask her to dance, even if just once.
There wasn't much to do but dodge guests eager to chat with the eleventh harbinger and escape the hawk-like gaze of The Knave, who was tasked with watching him so he wouldn't wreak havoc at the elegant party. Childe rolled his eyes every time he saw Arlecchino turn toward him, forcing him to mingle with the Fontaine bourgeoisie and be polite and eloquent.
The harbinger preferred to find a corner in the large hall near the drinks table and poured himself a glass of wine. As he looked around to kill time, Tartaglia turned the glass wrapped in his fingers and took a sip, sighing at the boredom that made it impossible for him to enjoy any aspect of the party. How boring, he said to himself. Why did his queen force him to attend these events for no reason? What could he do or say that Arlecchino himself did not already do?
Suddenly, something quickly caught his attention and he lowered his glass to his chest: a beautiful girl with golden hair and an elegant dress in a mesmerizing blue-gray appeared in his peripheral. He laughed as he walked alongside the president of Spina Di Rosula and the Champion Duelist of Fontaine. A mask that perfectly matched her outfit saved her from being the center of attention at the party. Her hairstyle was simple, but different enough that her identity was not so absurdly decipherable. However, just one glance at the soft skin of her arms was enough to distinguish traces of scars that Tartaglia could easily recognize. After all, he had caused many of them himself.
Childe stepped forward and placed his glass on the table. He wanted to approach her, chat, perhaps laugh at the ridiculous accessories some of the guests were wearing and have a drink together, but he didn't know exactly how to find some privacy among so many people, noise, and classical music filling the room. Lumine moved a few feet away from him, and Childe, somewhat excited, decided to find a subtle way to follow her so as not to lose sight of her. He was forced to walk around the dance floor, where some couples were following the rhythm of the music and showing off their extravagant outfits to the audience.
A tug on his arm makes him stop suddenly. He knows who it is just by feeling the sharp nails digging into his clothes. “Monsieur Neuvillette wants to talk to you,” says Arlecchino, with her usual serious expression on her face. “Where are you going?”
“Does it have to be now?” Childe breaks free from his grip, ready to continue walking in the opposite direction. The Knave follows him, removing her mask to stare at him.
“I don't want to babysit you for the whole party. Just talk to him and accept his apologies, okay? That's why you're here,” she replied reluctantly, leaving no room for further discussion or excuses. Childe rolled his eyes again and nodded.
“I'll do it later, don't worry.” In response, Arlecchino returns to hide behind her mask and takes a step back, forced to trust her colleague's word.
That senseless act caused Childe to lose sight of Lumine when he turned around. His eyes scanned the sea of people inside the masquerade, but he couldn't find a trace of the traveler's golden hair or her beautiful pale blue dress. He regretted not even being able to get close to her, so he kept walking aimlessly, hoping to cross paths again with the silver mask covered in precious stones.
It wasn't long before, during a moment of distraction, Childe felt a stranger's hand gently resting on his back. Lumine's sweet but assertive voice sent a shiver down his spine. “Were you looking for someone?” she asked, smiling.
“Were you hiding from me, comrade?” The harbinger let out a short laugh when he saw her eyes through the mask. Her attempts to camouflage her identity behind accessories, makeup, and the delicate mannerisms accompanying her body language were evident.
“On the contrary. I was looking for you.”
“Can I help you?” Childe raised an eyebrow playfully. “I must admit, you look beautiful tonight.”
“You look very handsome too, but...” Lumine bit her lip mid-sentence. Her gaze seemed to quickly lose itself somewhere on his body, perhaps mesmerized by the burgundy and silver details on his blazer and some of the Fatui insignia hanging at chest height.
“Uh-huh...?”
“I'll tell you later,” she finished.
Lumine smiled sideways, while Childe was speechless for a moment. He opened his mouth to laugh, but ended up responding with a hint of bitterness in his typically mocking voice. “So you're leaving me in suspense. What did I do to deserve this?”
“You disappeared for over a month at the Fortress of Meropide. I think that was too much intrigue for me.”
“Okay, okay, fair enough,” Childe took the edge of his mask and lifted it just enough to reveal his face. His expression turned serious instantly. “I'm sorry, by the way. I didn't mean to worry you.”
Although they hadn't had the chance to talk calmly after what had happened, they both knew that sooner or later they would be forced to have those awkward conversations where both he and she would have to clarify a thing or two. After what had happened in Fontaine, and even after all the time they had known each other, their relationship remained a mystery to both of them.
“Oh, okay... I'm glad you're okay. I'll have time to kill you myself for not being more careful,” Lumine cleared her throat and avoided further discussion with a short but clear answer. Quickly, the traveler changed the subject. “It was a surprise to find you here. I thought you'd take some time to recover.”
“They forced me to come. It seems like you were forced too, girlie.”
With a shy smile, Childe slowly reached out his black-gloved hand and gently caressed Lumine's cheek, which turned slightly red at his touch. His fingertips cautiously moved up to the edge of the white mask, and in an attempt to reveal the face of the lady in front of him, he tried to lift it up.
“Oh, don't take it away from me.” She defended herself, grabbing his arm and forcing him to remove his hand from her face. "I don't want anyone to know I'm here. I'm starting to hate being the center of attention everywhere I go." Her mischievous gaze never wavered, and it even mingled with a certain melancholy after she couldn't let him finish what he was doing.
“Ah, so I can ask you to dance without compromising our image? I thought I'd have to beg you to be near me in public.”
“Oh, well...” She rolled her eyes amusedly, pretending to ponder her response for a moment. “Just this once.”
Childe prepared to speak, but nothing came out of his mouth. Instead, he extended his hand to her and waited patiently for her to take it. She's perfect, he thought to himself. He stepped forward and let his more confident side shine through, allowing himself to dance to the classical music better than most people would imagine.
A hand traveled to Lumine's waist and pressed gently to draw her a little closer. The couples dancing around them remained oblivious to the slow movements of the pair as they became one with the music in the center of the Palais Mermonia. Lumine watched Childe silently, hesitant before wrapping her arms around his waist like the other women on the dance floor.
Her beautiful sky-blue dress moved gracefully as they both found the ideal rhythm and moved to it. The world seemed to turn to ashes around them as they stared at each other, trying to coordinate their steps simply with the connection flowing through their bodies. After a calm and elegant start, the music took a slight turn and forced them to speed up the rhythm slightly, causing Lumine to stumble a couple of times. A slow turn that must have looked perfect to the spectators was ruined when the traveler almost twisted her ankle due to a miscalculated movement. Childe laughed softly as Lumine whispered mild insults about the pain in her foot.
“I thought you were better than this,” he said ironically.
“I can't get used to these shoes... and the dress, and... all of this.” The couple returned to their original position, moving from side to side while holding each other. Lumine adjusted her mask to prevent it from falling off due to her stupidity.
“Me neither. You look prettier when you fight.”
“With you?”
“With me especially.”
Childe winked at her, confidence overflowing from his being. Unlike her, Childe was truly enjoying this little moment with her, even if he didn't have the freedom to say or do everything he had in mind. Lumine, on the other hand, seemed more annoyed than usual.
“Ugh, I don't even know why I agreed to come. I think I let Clorinde and Navia influence me too much... At least I don't have half the guests praising me and asking me questions about my travels like they usually do.”
“They admire you, can you blame them?” asked Childe, trying to appear as calm as possible, hoping to infect her with some of his good humor. She sighed and closed her eyes to calm herself. Her cheeks were still red, perhaps from embarrassment at being the only one on the verge of falling in the beautiful palace of Fontaine.
“I guess I miss being a stranger. Everyone knows my name and Paimon's, no matter where we go,” she replied frankly. Tartaglia simply nodded as he kept part of his attention on the dance. His gaze softened as soon as she began to hesitate every time she had to take a step.
“Yes, I understand. We, the Fatui Harbingers, experience something similar in Snezhnaya.” He paused briefly, pressing both hands firmly against Lumine's waist. With his eyes fixed on the other couples around them, he took a deep breath and warned, “Hold on tight.”
She quickly put both hands on his biceps and tried to stiffen her body. Childe lifted her without thinking, as if she were a feather, spinning on his own axis to the sound of the sonata the orchestra was playing for them. The traveler was surprised for a moment, but she didn't protest the harbinger's sudden movement.
“Since when did you become such a good dancer?” Lumine asked.
“I had to put up with a few etiquette lessons when I was promoted. I know a thing or two about these stupid events.”
At the end of the song's climax, Childe returned Lumine to her place. It took her a few seconds to steady herself and avoid tripping over her own feet and stiletto heels. She shook her feet in an involuntary impulse to make sure she wasn't stepping on her long dress.
“Well, at least you're not making a fool of yourself like I am.” They both laughed, the atmosphere feeling lighter and lighter. She mentally prepared herself to continue dancing, waiting for Childe to be the one to force her to follow his steps again. However, he was lost in her gaze and in the delicate details and accessories that accompanied and complemented the beauty of her face.
“I miss the flower in your hair,” Childe murmured, running a hand through her hair and tangling it with a rebellious strand that had escaped from Lumine's hairstyle. She closed her eyes just feeling the heat of his body colliding with her pores, intoxicated by the subtle sensation she had missed so much.
“That flower literally screams ‘Lumine’ as soon as you see it,” replied the traveler. “I miss it too.”
“Well, maybe you should go for it. You look more beautiful that way.”
His hand continued to travel over every inch of her satiny skin and returned to caress her crimson cheeks. His fingers played with the tip of her mask, which was tied to a string that circled Lumine's head. He was dying to take it off and see her face without silly restrictions. Unable to resist the temptation, he tried again: his heart nearly broke when he saw that he got the same results. His maid made him take his hand away and move away from her face, shaking her head reluctantly. Not even she wanted it that way, but she couldn't afford to reveal her identity.
Lumine lowered her head as if something embarrassed her. In response, Childe took the opportunity to look around: he could see The Knave talking to the current ruler of Fontaine. Suddenly, he remembered why he was at that party and what he should really be doing. Arlecchino seemed too distracted, purely willing to do one task at a time.
It's now or never.
“What if we run away from here? I don't feel like continuing my etiquette lessons today.”
Lumine's eyes widened in surprise. Childe's ear-to-ear smile caught her off guard, but instead of making assumptions or questioning his sudden change of heart, she sighed with relief. With a thoughtful expression, she pretended to be pondering her next words, a smile threatening to break out on her face impulsively.
“You know, you look very handsome in that suit too...” Lumine waited for him to understand her words, and he just looked at her with a raised eyebrow, waiting for her to finally finish her sentence and end the intrigue that had been consuming him throughout the dance.
“But?”
“You'd look better without it.”
Childe turned red as a tomato. He quickly took off his mask and dropped it on the floor, not caring if someone else picked it up.
“Let's get out of here before I kiss you in public.”