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Hey, comrade!
The day had finally come.
Lumine traced her finger over her train ticket once more, following the printed letters dutifully. Snezhnaya. It wasn’t as though she had never thought this day would come, but it felt as though only yesterday she was stepping under Mondstat’s towering gate for the first time, and now, she was about to board a train to Snezhnaya?
Paimon chatted aimlessly beside her—something about food, probably—but Lumine was barely paying any attention, mind drifting elsewhere. She had been looking forward to this trip more than she had expected herself to, and it wasn’t because she wanted to sample Snezhnaya’s local cuisine, though with the company she kept, she was sure that would be on the docket regardless.
Fine day for a little sparring, isn’t it? If I wasn’t so tied up with official business, I’d be right there in front of you, ready to go a few rounds. No holding back, of course.
Lumine shivered, rubbing her hands along her arms, desperate for even a modicum of friction. Even Paimon was shaking, pressed up against Lumine’s left, shielding herself from another flurry of snowflaked wind. Though she didn’t expect the weather to be friendly, it certainly didn’t need to be this unforgiving either. High winds, negative temperatures, and low visibility?
Awful weather for a fight, Lumine mused.
Thankfully, salvation was but twenty paces away, across the platform, beckoning to the pair with a warm glow. Lumine hurried along best she could in the bitter weather, pack clutched close to her chest, while her thin cloak—admittedly more decorative than functional—danced violently alongside her.
When she stepped inside the train cabin, heels clicking faintly against the scuffed wooden floor, noncommittal greeting exchanged awkwardly with the conductor, her shoulders finally relaxed. The cabin was by no means warm, but at least the wind no longer nipped mercilessly at the skin, the frozen air no longer clinging to the lungs, and between the dissipating heat of the steam pipes and the plush fabric of her fleece-lined dress, it was at least tolerable.
As you know, things within the Fatui have been rather eventful lately. What’s waiting for me now isn’t quite as simple as finding someone and duelling them with everything I’ve got. Sometimes, I find myself on the proverbial battlefield even at the meeting table… It’s not exactly my favourite kind of fight, but that’s what makes it worth winning.
Lumine watched the grey landscape fly past through the wide window of her compartment, through the blur of a snowstorm, and through the hazy condensation of a scantily warmed room. Paimon dozed extremely audibly across from her, small limbs splayed haphazardly across the blanketed bench, red soupy remnants of lunch smeared across her face. Lumine picked absent-mindedly at her own portion of the seafood stew she had so diligently prepared.
She wasn’t a bad cook by any means, but there was still something about the dish that was not quite right. At least, it didn’t taste the same as it did in her memories. Perhaps she had boiled the octopus for too long? Was there not enough calla lily? Too much mint?
Maybe it was one of those dishes that tasted better when someone else made it for her.
Lumine’s gaze slipped back out the window, appetite melting as quickly as snowflakes on the glass. Instead, she felt a different kind of feeling—not too dissimilar from hunger—settling into the pit of her stomach. Something that tasted remarkably like anticipation.
Anyway, enough about me. Your next stop is Snezhnaya, isn’t it? Feeling ready for that? You’ve already crossed paths with most of the Harbingers by now. But as far as your Fatui acquaintances go, I was the first, wouldn’t you say?
As the day wore on, it seemed like the snowstorm was beginning to clear up. The snowy landscape of Snezhnaya was no longer subject to the blur of snowflakes on the wind, but instead to an ever-thickening blanket of white.
Like Paimon’s ramblings on food, however, this was far from Lumine’s mind.
The shrill screech of metal on metal as the train pulled into its station had her hands shaking. The hours of silent musing and quiet contemplation did nothing but feed the creature of anticipation in her stomach. In fact, it had gnawed and gnawed at her until it grew in size to something much bigger than her stomach. Big enough that it was no longer possible to ignore or dismiss. What felt like adrenaline zipped eagerly through her veins as trembling fingers shook Paimon awake, perhaps a little too harshly in their haste.
There was an irony here that was not lost on Lumine—that she was just as, if not more, eager to expose herself to Snezhnaya’s unforgiving elements, as she was to escape them mere hours ago. If anything, it should have been the opposite, the ambient temperatures here colder still, even without the snowstorm.
Blearily, and much too slowly for Lumine’s liking, Paimon rubbed at her sleepy eyes, trailing drowsily behind Lumine, who was now shuddering from more than just the cold.
So when you set foot in Snezhnaya, naturally, the first old friend you come looking for should be me. And if anyone gives you trouble, you are more than welcome to mention my name.
She would not have needed the sun to spot him, even if the overcast sky washed everything before her in a dull grey, even if the remnants of a snowstorm still blended some distant figures together. He was tall, for one. And the station was neither very busy nor very big, for another—it would have taken no time at all for her to pick out his imposing figure among the sparse crowd.
But maybe it was some kind of providence, or perhaps just pure coincidence, that the sun, who had been absent all day, finally broke from behind grey clouds and shined past foggy atmosphere right as Lumine spotted him—orange hair alight in the sun like fire, red mask catching the dangerous glint of a sunray as his head turned, blue eyes darting from one face to the next, seemingly in search of someone as well.
Lumine felt her breath catch in her throat at the sight of him: broad shoulders tucked back, eyes narrowed just so, eyebrows drawn into a sharp expression she was sure was frightening anyone fortunate enough to make eye contact with him. The monster of anticipation in her gut raged at her, screamed at her, demanded of her—
Lumine isn’t sure what happened next.
She must have ran, because Paimon’s voice was barely audible, a distant call of “Hey! Lumine, wait!” somewhere far behind her.
She must have called his name, because his eyes suddenly snapped to hers, blue and deep and somehow managing to shimmer like the sun-kissed ocean.
And she must have jumped, because the next thing she knew, she was in his arms, his warm and welcoming and wonderful arms, laughing breezily as she was spun in one, two, three circles before finally stilling, the world shrinking until it was just Lumine and just Childe and just the faint warmth blooming in her chest.
Strong arms tightened further against the curve of her waist and the flat of her back, hot breath trickling down her neck from somewhere in her hair, making Lumine shiver, even in the close embrace. Childe must have felt it, because he shifted just slightly in response, and Lumine swore his grip on her tightened, pulling her in closer to the heat of his body, enough for her to wonder if perhaps they were at risk of melding together.
Which would be an awfully difficult thing to explain to his family, Lumine thought.
But instead of doing anything about it, Lumine buried her face deeper into his chest, relishing the moment like it could be ripped away from her at any second, delighting in the way the bitter Snezhnayan cold seemed a distant memory when she was here, wrapped up in Childe’s arms like his long, lost…something. She couldn’t think of what. It had always been difficult to let her mind drift to anything else in his presence.
Lumine breathed, finally swallowing the breath she caught earlier, taking in the smell of snow, of salt water, of something familiar and comforting and delicate, each shaky breath quelling that unseen monster from before, taming the hungry pit of anticipation in her until it fizzled out in its obsolescence. She felt herself growing dizzier by the second, though she couldn’t tell if it was because of all those circles she had been spun in earlier or if it was something else entirely. It made her miss the words whispered into her hair, deep and reverberating, almost aching in their tenderness.
Then suddenly, Lumine felt it again—a different kind of hunger settling its way back into the pit of her stomach, different from anything she had ever tasted before. She could almost see it: a lone, flickering flame, not very bright and not very big, but too stubborn to be put out. And as Childe’s chest rumbled gently against her, a chuckle lingering in the air around them, Lumine noted, too at ease in his warm embrace to yet feel any alarm, that she didn’t know the name of this one.
I’ll see to it you get a proper welcome, comrade!