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Contrary to popular belief, Venti liked routine. It was understandable. Barbatos was a god of freedom, as impossible to tie down as a breeze. As a bard, he was a free spirit, here today and gone tomorrow. No wonder others thought of him as a being that preferred chaos and impulse.
Yet, the freedom to choose anything included the freedom to choose the same things over and over. And Venti liked his patterns. He liked entering Angel’s Share for dandelion wine, liked Diluc immediately chasing him out when he revealed he was utterly broke. It was fun to wander through Mondstadt, to watch the sun rise and fall on its storied walls without fail. There was nothing better than noticing his citizens grow and change.
His favourite habit, though, was meeting Xiao every now and then. At the border between Mondstadt and Liyue, in the mountains and fields where the borders between the two countries blurred, they’d find the spot where Xiao didn’t feel like he was abandoning his duties and Venti could still hear his people’s voices in the wind.
Today it was a tall sunsettia tree, its branches spreading across the two countries. Venti leaned against the tree, softly strumming his lyre. Xiao’s head was heavy on his shoulder, his breathing even as he finally rested. It was hard to convince his companion to take a break, let alone actually relax, and Venti took each time as an accomplishment.
Humming softly, Venti closed his eyes as he played, relishing the way the wind ruffled his hair, the way the sun warmed his skin. Xiao’s weight was a familiar thing, borne from centuries of meeting like this. When he shifted slightly, his hair brushing Venti’s nape, Venti felt hot from the contact.
If Venti had to describe their relationship, he didn’t know what he’d call it. More than friends, less than lovers, they lived in a strange nexus in-between. That was the problem of being immortal: there was no need to define things. They had all the time in the world to figure things out.
Xiao stirred, yawning softly as he cracked open an eye. He didn’t lift his head. When he spoke, it sent a shiver down Venti’s spine. “That last song…”
“A new one I picked up,” Venti replied, his fingers already running across the strings to play it again. It had only taken three tries to pick it up and now he was glad he put the effort in. If he’d known Xiao was interested, he’d have asked for more. “Some foreigners from Inazuma visited during Windblume.”
“Ah.” Xiao adjusted his position, moving his head to a more comfortable spot. His nose brushed Venti’s neck, his cheek resting on his shoulder. “People visited?”
From anyone else, that would have been an insult, but Venit had known Xiao long enough to tell when he was being dismissive and when it was genuine curiosity. “Hey, it’s a big festival. We always get a lot of visitors. Even more now that Jean goes all out making sure everything’s ready.”
Xiao hummed, considering it. “More than we get during the Lantern Rite?”
“Maybe?” Maybe he should have drinks with Zhongli soon, to compare numbers. “I’m sure it’s even reached the Tsaritsa’s ears.”
Venti felt oddly wistful, thinking of her, thinking of the events centuries past. Times had changed, but his memories hadn’t. Neither had hers, the way she held her grudge. His chest felt a little emptier now that his gnosis was gone.
Would she feel comforted when she got them all? Or would it only make the ache worse? Venti sighed. Knowing her, it would be a long time before she found any relief.
Xiao grumbled, “Her people have been skulking around Liyue. I don’t like it.”
“There too?” Venti laughed as he pulled out of his dark thoughts. “She has one guy stationed at the church and I almost feel bad for him. I’m not sure why he’s still there, considering she’s already gotten my gnosis. Maybe she’s bullying him?”
Xiao stiffened and Venti immediately regretted bringing it up. His adeptus was overly serious to a fault, even in situations that were far beyond his control.
“I should have been there.” Xiao’s hand dug into the earth, his jaw clenched. “With you. With the Morax. I should have—”
“It’s fine. It’s not important.” Venti interrupted, pressing a light kiss on his hair. “We haven’t lost anything. We’re fine.”
His actions did little to soothe Xiao. “But—”
“I think it’s more fun without it.” He smiled. “Doesn’t Zhongli also seem happier?”
There was a long silence before Xiao turned slightly, letting his hair cover his face. “If I see her…”
“You can avenge my honour.” Venti returned to his lyre, strumming it softly as he changed the topic. “But seriously, you have to come to the next Windblume. The knights went all out this time.”
Xiao sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and rolled his shoulders. After releasing his pent-up irritation, he nudged Venti to continue. “How?”
Venti grinned. He preferred to spend their time laughing, not worrying about old acquaintances and their dark plans. Closing his eyes, he recalled the event. “They put ribbons around the town square, wreaths on every post, and the flowers—they strung so many across the buildings. The squirrels really liked running across them. It was romantic, like Mondstadt was a brand-new place.”
Xiao chuckled. “You see this every year.”
“Yeah, but they always out-do themselves every year. They’re all so creative.” Venti paused, then corrected himself. “Most of them are creative.”
“Most?” Xiao cocked his head.
“There were some really bad poets, but Lumine helped me with them.” Venti laughed as he remembered how the traveller had dashed around the city, looking for a commission. “She really doesn’t know what to do when there’s nothing to do.”
“She likes helping,” his companion praised softly.
“You’re complimenting her?” Venti blinked before turning in surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time Xiao had said anything like that willingly, without someone forcing it out of the stoic man. “When did that happen?”
Pinching him, Xiao grumbled, “She did something good. That’s all.”
“Ohhh? Is that really all?” Venti giggled as Xiao pinched his sides. “Wait, stop, not there—fine, fine! I give, I give!”
With a grunt, Xiao stopped. “Good.”
“Oh, my sides,” Venti moaned, rubbing his stomach. He pouted and scowled at Xiao. “You know what, I’m glad you didn’t get any wine.”
He raised a brow, untroubled by the declaration. “Wine?”
“Diluc’s new batch.” Venti licked his lips, savouring the memory. “It’s amazing.”
“You say that about all of his drinks,” Xiao pointed out. Rightfully.
“They’re all good,” Venti countered. Rightfully. “Applebloom Cider was the best, though. I had to get Kaeya sneak me some; Diluc wouldn’t sell them to me.” Venti huffed, puffing his cheeks as he pouted. “He knows I’m good for the money too.”
“Are you?” Xiao teased lightly. Venti looked down to find him half-smiling, his eyes soft. “The Mo—Zhongli is like that too. Terrible with money. Is this an Archon thing?”
“Rude.” Venti flicked his forehead. “I was going to give you a bottle, but now I won’t.”
“That’s fine.” Xiao straightened, stretching his arms above him. “You don’t have a second bottle.”
Venti flinched. “I could have.”
“But you don’t,” Xiao replied, blunt as ever. Still, his expression was fond, his quiet smile widening a notch.
There was no point in pushing the lie any further. Venti sighed. “I really wanted to. I was going to save some, but Lumine and I polished it off and Diluc refused to give me another.” He shrugged helplessly. “I’ll just have to steal it next time.”
“It’s fine,” Xiao repeated Venti’s words gently and squeezed his hand. “I don’t need it.”
“Still. I want to give it to you.” Venti leaned against him now, his head fitting comfortably in the crook of his neck. “I think you’ll like it.”
More than that, though, he wanted to see Xiao’s expression when he got the gift. What type of smile would he give? Another crescent moon? A slight tug of the lips? One that rang clear in his eyes no matter how impassive his expression was? There was always some new minute expression to discover with him.
Xiao grunted. “You give me a gift every Windblume.”
“That’s just a flower.” He’d given Xiao sweet flowers and windwheel asters, dandelions and lamp grass. Venti had even gone through Liyue and collected silk flowers and glaze lilies. The reaction was the same no matter what bloom he offered, a quiet happiness that Xiao couldn’t hide. “I want to give you more.”
“Why?”
“Do you really have to ask? After all this time?” Venti laughed, reaching down to interlace their fingers. “I just do. Because it’s you. That’s the only reason I need.”
“Oh.” Xiao sounded oddly troubled and Venti pulled back so he could see his expression better.
He wasn’t sure how to react to the frown. “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing,” Xiao replied immediately.
Venti snorted. Xiao was a terrible liar. “What is it?”
“I…” Xiao’s gaze flicked to him then to the long grasses growing nearby. His free hand brushed their green stalks. “I’ve never given you anything back.”
“What?” Venti burst into laughter, feeling oddly thrilled and pleased. He squeezed Xiao’s hand. “That’s fine! It’s not like I want anything back. Besides, this is a Mondstadt festival.”
“Still.” Xiao gnawed his lip. When he wanted to, he could be awfully studious and strict, especially to himself. “That doesn’t make it right.”
“Seriously.” Venti bumped their shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m just happy you like them.”
“That…” Xiao closed his eyes, his nose scrunching slightly as he considered it. Finally, he slowly uttered, “The next lantern festival. We’ll see it together.”
Venti’s breath hitched. “What?”
“I’m not repeating myself,” Xiao mumbled, turning away. His ears were red.
Venti was certain his cheeks were the same colour. “I thought you didn’t like festivals.”
Xiao scoffed. “I don’t.”
“But?” Venti pressed. He needed to hear the answer.
In response, Xiao clasped his hand once more, his slim fingers fitting perfectly between Venti’s. “I like you. So.” He shrugged as he turned an even darker red.
That was all he needed to hear. Venti grinned, leaning forward to kiss him on the cheek. “I can’t wait.”
A festival. With Xiao. Venti could barely stay still at the thought. It would be months before they could go on this date, but months were mere minutes to an immortal.
And years were just a breath away. Maybe they’d go together again next year. And the year after. And the year after that.
And maybe Venti could add the Lantern Rite festival to one of his routines.