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“Achoo!”
Lumine shivered from head to toe, wrapping her arms around herself in a futile attempt to trap what little warmth remained.
“See?” Paimon zipped to her side, tiny hands on tiny hips. “Didn’t Paimon tell you to dress warmly for Snezhnaya? It’s a billion times colder here than Dragonspine!”
Lumine barely had the energy to glare. Snow dusted her lashes, clung to the crown of her head, and settled on the tip of her nose like a tiny frozen stamp of disapproval.
“I-I-I t-t-t-thought—” her teeth chattered violently— “m-my P-P-Pyro—Achoo!”
Paimon’s face crumpled with worry. “Okay, that’s it! We need to get you somewhere warm!” She spun in a frantic circle before pointing south. “Aha! There’s a town just up ahead! C’mon, Traveler, move those frozen legs before you turn into a Lumine-sicle!”
Her choice of words—frozen, cold, dying of hypothermia probably—should have made the blonde think of survival. Instead, her sluggish mind drifted to a certain Harbinger. The way his laugh curled like smoke in winter air. The infuriating warmth of his hand when he’d once pulled her from a snowdrift in Mondstadt, smirking as he called her insufferably reckless.
Now, after years of crossing Teyvat, she was finally in his homeland.
And despite the cold biting through her coat and the snow threatening to bury her whole, Lumine felt something dangerously close to a blush creep up her frozen cheeks.
I wonder how long until we run into his family?
Beside her, Paimon squinted. “Why are you smiling like that? Are you hallucinating from the cold? Traveler? Traveler!”
“Big Sister Lumi!”
Teucer launched himself at her the second she and Paimon set foot in town—which, they quickly learned, was Morespok, Childe’s hometown.
“T-T-Teucer!” Lumine’s golden eyes flew wide, but her arms opened on instinct, catching the boy and wrapping around him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Snow dusted his hat as he buried his face into her coat, giggling.
Behind him, two more children stepped forward—a boy and a girl, both older than Teucer—along with an older woman whose blue eyes held the same playful gleam as a certain Harbinger. Lumine’s heart stuttered.
Introductions came in a warm blur of names and smiling faces: Anton, the brother who grinned like he already knew too much; Tonia, the sister who clasped Lumine’s hands and declared her prettier than Ajax described; and their mother who simply smiled, warm.
Before Lumine could process it, the cold that had seeped into her bones was replaced by something far warmer. Hands tugged her toward a cozy house smelling of bread and spice, coats were hung, and she was ushered into a kitchen bustling with laughter and the clatter of pots. Dinner wasn’t just a meal—it was an event. Plates piled high, stories traded across the table, and more than once, Lumine caught herself laughing so hard her cheeks hurt.
By the time dishes were cleared, she’d been given a tour of the house, shown old family photos (featuring a gap-toothed Ajax with a dramatic scarf), and invited to stay the night.
She couldn’t say no. She didn’t want to.
Sadly, Ajax himself was still away on a mission for the Tsaritsa.
“Ajax has plenty of unused coats and jackets in his closet,” his mother said later, leading Lumine and Paimon to his bedroom. She pushed open the door with a knowing smile. “Feel free to borrow some.”
Lumine’s eyes swept over the room—neat but lived-in, a bow resting on the dresser, a faded seashell on the windowsill. Her face warmed. “O-Oh, no, that’s too—”
“You know how that boy is with his money,” his mother interrupted gently. “He buys a new coat every season and forgets the old ones exist. He wouldn’t notice. And he certainly wouldn’t mind.” Her smile turned soft, private. “Especially not for you.”
Lumine’s protest died on her tongue. After a beat, she ducked her head. “...Alright. Thank you.”
Snezhnaya’s monsters were no joke. After a few scuffles in the snow, Lumine’s borrowed coat hung off her in sad, tattered ribbons.
She sighed, brushing frost from her sleeve. “I think we made enough Mora.” She tipped the coins onto her palm, counting quickly. “Let’s head back into town and buy a new one.”
Paimon nodded, and the two trudged back to Morespok, heading straight for the nearest shop.
The shopkeeper smiled warmly. Lumine pointed to a coat that looked warm enough. The shopkeeper named a price.
“W-W-WHAT?!” Paimon’s screech could probably be heard in Liyue. “F-F-FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND MORA FOR ONE COAT?!”
Lumine blinked thrice.
She didn’t need to react. Paimon was doing enough reacting for the both of them.
“What kind of person would pay 500,000 Mora for a coat?!” Paimon fumed, tiny fists shaking mid-air. “Is it lined with Cor Lapis or something?!”
The shopkeeper’s smile remained professionally fixed. Lumine gently tugged Paimon away.
They checked three more stores.
Five hundred thousand. Six hundred twenty. Seven hundred fifty for a coat that wasn’t even cute.
By the fifth shop, Paimon was floating upside down in defeat. “Are coats really that expensive in Snezhnaya?” She let out a long, dramatic sigh. “If so, is everyone here just swimming in Mora? What are we going to do, Traveler?”
Lumine brought her hand to her chin, thinking.
Her mind drifted back to the warm house in Morespok. To a certain bedroom with a certain closet. And to a mother’s knowing smile as she’d said, “He wouldn’t notice. And he certainly wouldn’t mind.”
“He does have a lot of coats,” Lumine murmured, half to herself. A faint blush crept up her neck. “Maybe... borrowing another one would be okay?”
Paimon flipped right-side up so fast she nearly gave herself whiplash. “Oh, Paimon sees that look! That’s the ‘I’m pretending this is purely practical but it’s really because I miss him’ look!”
“It’s cold,” Lumine said flatly, already turning toward the house.
“You’re blushing!”
“It’s windburn.”
“It’s literally not snowing right now!”
Lumine walked faster.
Ajax rarely visited home these days. Being a Harbinger came with endless responsibilities, endless travel, and precious few chances to return to the quiet streets of Morespok. Today was one of those rare, precious days. Sadly his siblings were still in school, and the house felt eerily still—empty of the warmth and cheerful chaos he'd been craving for months.
He dropped his bag by the door and wandered upstairs, pushing open the door to his bedroom.
Something was off.
Not in a bad way. Not the kind of off that made him reach for his weapons. His mother hadn't rearranged things, and his siblings hadn't left any toys scattered across his floor like little landmines. No—this was different. Subtle.
The air felt... softer, somehow.
He opened his closet.
Several of his coats were missing. His most expensive ones, too—the heavy fur-lined ones, the Snezhnayan wool blends that cost more than most people's monthly rent.
“Ajax?”
His mother's voice came from the doorway, warm and amused, like she'd been waiting for this exact moment. “You look confused. Aren't you tired? Why don't you take a nap?”
He shook his head slowly, still staring into the closet. “I'm fine. I just noticed...” He turned to face her, brow furrowed. “Some of my coats are missing, Mama. Did you give them away?”
A smile curled across her lips. That smile—the one that said she knew something he didn't and was thoroughly enjoying it.
“Yes, I did.”
Ajax blinked. “Huh?” He wasn't trying to sound miserly, but— “Mama, those coats cost over a million Mora.”
She chuckled, utterly unbothered.
“I'm serious,” he pressed.
She waved a dismissive hand. “I thought you wouldn't mind, Ajax.” Then her voice softened, took on a private, almost teasing warmth. “I couldn't possibly let dear Lumine venture through Snezhnaya without a coat to keep her warm.”
Ajax's entire body went still.
His blue eyes flew wide. “Wait. Did you say... Lumine?”
His heart slammed against his ribs. Heat crept up his neck, his cheeks—the mere sound of her name doing something to him that no amount of battle ever had.
His mother nodded, looking far too pleased with herself. “She came by a few months ago. I invited her to dinner, and she ended up staying the night.” A pause, deliberate and heavy. “I had her stay in your room, and I haven't replaced the sheets since.”
Ajax's mouth went dry.
“And I told her to help herself to your coats.” His mother sighed dramatically. “Poor thing kept ruining them in her adventures—you know how she is—so she's come back for replacements a few times. You really do have too many, Ajax.”
He wasn't listening anymore.
Lumine had been here. In his home. She'd met his family, had dinner with them, slept in his bed—his bed—wrapped in his sheets, probably wearing one of his shirts or—
He turned slowly, almost mechanically, and walked toward his bed.
“She... slept here?” The words came out in a whisper.
“That's right.”
His mother's voice faded into the background after that. Something about dinner, about him looking flushed, about maybe taking that nap after all. He didn't hear any of it. The door clicked shut, and Ajax was alone.
He sank onto the edge of the mattress.
Then, with a kind of reverence he reserved for very few things, he pulled one of his pillows to his face and inhaled.
There it was. It was so faint he almost missed it, but it was unmistakable. Sunlit flowers and wind-swept fields. Something warm and sweet and entirely, devastatingly her.
Downstairs, his mother pressed a hand over her mouth and laughed silently into her tea.
Lumine had been in Snezhnaya for months now—taking on commissions, tackling quests that stretched into weeks, running errands across the frostbitten landscape. She'd saved enough Mora to buy several coats of her own by now, and she'd briefly considered replacing the ones she'd borrowed from Ajax's closet.
That idea lasted about as long as it took for her next coat to get shredded by a particularly angry frostarm lawachurl.
So here she was again—needing another one of his coats.
She'd been to his house so many times by now that his parents had given her free rein—come and go as she pleased, even when they weren't home. It still surprised her, sometimes, that they trusted her that much. That she'd somehow become a fixture in the quiet, warm household of Morespok.
Tonight, the house was dark and still. Paimon was tucked away in the teapot mansion, fast asleep. Lumine climbed the stairs to Ajax's room as if it were her own, her footsteps soundless against the wooden steps.
She turned the knob and slipped inside, not bothering with the lights. She'd done this enough times to find his closet by memory alone.
But just as her fingers brushed the closet handle—
The room flooded with light.
“Funny seeing you here, Comrade.”
Lumine froze.
That voice. Low, warm, threaded with amusement. She'd know it anywhere. In the dark, in a crowd, across a battlefield.
She turned slowly.
There he was—seated at the foot of his bed like he'd been waiting for her all along.
“Ajax,” she breathed.
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
How long had it been? Two years? More? The last time they'd spoken was in Fontaine in the presence of Arlecchino. After that, she'd gone to Natlan, then Nod-Krai, then Dornman Port. And now, finally, her journey had brought her here—to Snezhnaya.
To him.
Ajax smiled—that familiar, crooked, infuriatingly charming smile—and started to rise.
He didn't make it.
Lumine launched herself at him, and the next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with a Traveler pinned to his chest.
Laughter bubbled out of him, bright and genuine. “Did you really miss me that much, Comrade?” His hand found the small of her back, settling there like it belonged. Her fingers curled into the front of his shirt, knuckles white.
“Comrade?”
She stayed there, quiet, her face pressed against his chest, breathing him in. He smelled like winter and salt and something warm underneath—something that made her chest ache.
“Lumine?”
Finally, she lifted her head. Gold met blue.
“Yes,” she said, so softly it was almost a whisper. “I missed you, Ajax.”
Then she propped herself up on his chest and kissed him.
His smile widened against her lips. She could feel it, that insufferable curve of his mouth, and his arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer, deeper. One hand slid up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair.
When they finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, he pressed her against his chest and let out a wondering laugh.
“To think... after two years, we'd meet again like this.” He reached up, brushing his thumb across her flushed cheek. “Me catching you raiding my closet in the middle of the night.”
Lumine laughed, ducking her head. “I'm sorry.” She didn't sound sorry at all. “I know those coats were expensive, but I—”
Ajax pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her.
“Don't be.” His voice softened. “Like Mama said—you're always welcome to what's mine.”
His finger lingered there, warm and gentle, before he pulled it away.
Lumine smiled, warmth blooming in her chest. Protesting would be useless. This was Ajax, after all. “Thank you.”
He tilted his head, a thoughtful hum rumbling in his throat. “Are you still cold?”
She arched a brow. “What do you—”
Before she could finish, Ajax flipped them.
Suddenly she was on her back, staring up at him as he braced himself above her, blue eyes dark with something that made her breath catch.
“I was thinking,” he murmured, leaning down until his lips brushed her ear; “that I could make you feel warm. Without any of my coats.”
Lumine's cheeks burned.
But she didn't push him away.
She pulled him closer instead.