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Venti hears the prayers of his people all the time. The winds carry on Mondstadt’s deepest desires to his awaiting ears. Of course, what kind of god would he be if he didn’t listen to his beloved acolytes?
Many a prayer flows through his ears every day, each one carrying a sincere wish or deep gratitude from the god of freedom’s loyal followers.
‘Dear Lord Barbatos, please guide my beloved on his expedition and bring him home safely.’
‘Oh Lord Barbatos, please bless today’s meal.’
‘May the Anemo Archon bless my commissions today.’
And with each strum of his lyre, he fulfills them. What kind of god would he be if he left his dearest acolytes hopeless? What kind of father would he be if he neglected his children’s wishes?
It was yet another day for the bard. Venti sat atop one of the branches of Windrise’s tree, idly strumming at his lyre and putting together a loose string of melodies for tonight’s performance at Angel’s Share.
A gust of wind flew by, and with it, another prayer. Venti briefly paused as the familiar voice of the prayer’s source echoed in his mind.
‘Uh, Dear Lord Barbatos… is this how it goes?’
The bard leaned back against the trunk and giggled. Of course, the prayer was from you. He’d never heard you pray to him before, but he could never mistake your voice for anyone’s.
‘I know I’m not from here, but I’m hoping you’d hear me, nonetheless…’
Venti absentmindedly nodded along, as if you were there in person.
‘I have taken a liking to someone…’
Venti paused once more and placed the lyre back on his lap, his brows slowly scrunching. You like someone?
Before the hands of disappointment could begin to claw at his chest, you continued.
‘I’m sure you already know who he is, being a god and all…’
Venti can’t help but giggle as well when you did.
‘... and he’s the most popular bard in Mondstadt, so…’
It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of Venti’s shoulders, his chest feeling a bit lighter than moments prior. A blush had also begun to creep up his already rosy cheeks.
The bard could only lean his head back and sigh in relief, picking his lyre up once more and strumming a lively tune.
‘If it isn’t too much to ask, I would like to ask for your blessing and the courage to open my heart up to him tonight.’
By now, Venti was determined to make tonight’s performance even more special. His performances always are; he’s playing for his people after all, but he wanted this one to stand out.
‘That’s all, thank you.’
With that, Venti finished the tune he was absentmindedly playing and kept the prayer in a special place in his heart. The bard has heard countless prayers of love, but none about him other than prayers of praise and devotion for the Anemo Archon. This one was a first, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.
-
That night, Venti showed up to Angel’s Share earlier than usual, much to the delight of Charles.
Polishing his lyre by the third time that night, the bard had never felt this nervous before a performance. He usually isn’t; his talent was built by centuries of finesse, and it showed. However, this time, he found that he’s the one silently praying for a courageous performance… ironically, enough.
The time for his performance finally came, and patrons steadily flowed inside the tavern to watch him play.
His eyes scanned the growing crowd for signs of you, but to no avail. Venti continued playing, trying not to let the disappointment mar his playing. The show must go on, after all.
A few songs later, his heart grew heavy, and his mind ran faster at every tune that passed. Maybe you were just late? Did you get sick? Perhaps his blessing didn’t reach you…
He knew you were a bit coy with your true feelings, but you never missed an opportunity to watch him play. Even when he’s being reprimanded by the Church for “blasphemy,” you’d laugh along and give him an encouraging smile.
Just as his eyes began to cast down for a spontaneous, sorrowful song, you walked in. Your hurried figure maneuvered to an empty spot in the tavern, the one unspoken to be reserved for you. Panting and holding your chest, your free hand raised to give Venti a thumbs up and an apologetic smile.
Venti suddenly feels like he can play every song in Teyvat nonstop
.
-
After the performance, Venti took the time to talk to the people near the stage first. He shook hands and gave his sincerest gratitude to generous patrons who rewarded him with tips and free drinks. Then he conversed with the taverngoers, who were delighted to watch him play again.
He finally made his way to you, at a table neatly tucked in a corner; not too out in the open, but close enough to both the stage and the bar counter. There you were, sitting patiently with your drink, fidgeting with a small envelope in your hand.
“There you are!” Venti perked up and giggled before nearly lunging at you, like he always does.
“So,” He drawled. “What do you think?”
You squinted when he gave you a hug enough to pop your ribs out, but returned it as best as you could. There he was with his overwhelming acts of affection again; it wasn’t hard for you to fall at all, honestly.
“Great, as usual,” you giggled. “Some songs I’ve never heard before, though, are they new?”
Venti hummed while nodding, letting you go to settle on the seat in front of you. “Felt a huge surge of inspiration this morning, hehe.” He gave you a wink right after.
You nodded in awe, ignoring the heat creeping up your cheeks. “So you just wrote them this morning? Wow…”
At this point, you were convinced he was the most talented bard in Mondstadt, Teyvat, even. Why he chooses to spend his time following you around instead of maximizing his career is beyond you. You appreciate his companionship; ironically, it’s also why your feelings for him blossomed into something much more than just that. But you also can’t help but wonder if he’s out of your league.
You began to wonder what inspired him earlier. Each song sounded distinct from the other, but they all held one common thing: his new songs spoke about adoration for another. Your nails began to dig into the envelope on the table. What if he already likes someone else? Maybe this was a bad idea—
“Well, enough about that,” Venti snapped you out of your thoughts by laying his hands on top of yours. His cheeks were puffed out, and his lips were in a pout. “You missed half of my performance…”
“How am I to perform without my number one companion watching me?” He placed the back of his hand on his forehead and sighed dramatically. “How is a building supposed to stand without its pillars?”
You flashed him another apologetic smile and laid your hand on top of his, which was also on top of your other hand. “I’m really sorry… It’s just that...”
Venti leaned closer, placing his free elbow on the table and placing his head on top of his palm. He hummed, urging you to continue.
“I was contemplating whether to bring you this.” You gave him the envelope. “... and I lost track of time, so I rushed to get here as fast as I could.”
Venti examined the small envelope you gave him. It seemed to be made of a light colored parchment with a wax seal smudged on its opening. The bard noted that it also smelled faintly of apples.
“Uhm,” You interrupted just as Venti was about to open the envelope. “You can read that later…”
The bard raised a brow at your request and resumed leaning his head on his palm.
With that, you took a deep inhale and cupped your drink with both hands. “There’s really no other way to say this…”
Both of Venti’s brows were raised in intrigue now. Although he had already expected this interaction, he still couldn’t help but feel giddy about it.
“... and I really prayed to the anemo archon about this,” You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for what you were about to say.
“I like you, Venti… like really, really like you.”
“W—”
“I’m not the best at speaking words, so I wrote it all on that instead.” You pointed to the envelope.
Instead of a response reminiscent of his bard nature, all you received was his signature giggle, causing you to finally open your eyes.
“Hehe, okay.”
You sat there, dumbfounded, mouth slightly ajar. You were seconds away from regretting your decision before he grabbed both your hands to intertwine with his.
“My muse,” He took one of your hands and nuzzled it against his cheek. “How blessed am I to have the heart of someone like you…”
“I don’t know about blessed, Ven—”
“Nonsense, my dear, this heart of yours has inspired countless ballads, you know.”
Venti giggled again before leaning in, far closer than he usually does. “Would you like to hear a secret?”
You nodded, a little bit confused but curious as to where this is going. After all this time, you’ve gotten used to the bard’s whims.
“This little bard’s heart is yours, as well.”
If your face wasn’t already warm, then it’s exploded in heat by now. You ducked your head and let out a huge sigh in relief.
This got another giggle out of the bard before he leaned in to give your cheek a peck.
“Shall we go on a walk then, my love?”
Face still lowered, you tightened your grip on Venti’s hand and nodded.
-
This was the first time Venti had received a prayer for his own heart. He has blessed countless matters of the heart over centuries, but never his.
Maybe for the first time, the Anemo Archon selfishly indulged in mortal feelings to grant your wish, but what kind of god would he be if he didn’t heed his beloved’s prayers?