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“What a week,” Paimon yawns as the train door close behind them, blocking out the hustle and bustle of the Grand Station. Lumine has had quite enough of Snezhongrad for now. Her head feels like a heavy mush of too much information and fatigue for Celestial related drama.
“You can say that again,” Lumine sighs as she slumps down on one of the sofas of her train. She should go and tell Graeae to go somewhere they haven’t explored yet, but she just wants to give herself a few more minutes of not doing, well…anything.
Heh, her train.
From all the wild and mystical things that has happened to her throughout her journey in Teyvat, being in possession of a sentient, borderline luxurious locomotive she can call on a whim is something that still leaves her quite stumped. Hell, even their spaceship doesn’t feel this homey. She pats the plush upholstery, feeling rather pleased with herself.
“Lumine.”
“Yes, Paimon?”
Her favorite travel companion smiles sheepishly, and pats at her small stomach. “I’m hungry.”
Lumine stares at her. “Again?”
“Hey,” Paimon huffs up her cheeks. “I didn’t get to eat much as we were busy exploring the city.”
“You ate through half of the market.” Lumine didn’t mind spending on Paimon, of course, but no way she would pass up on teasing her gluttonous little friend.
Celestial being or not, Paimon will always be Paimon.
Paimon gives a little tch and looks away from Lumine with crossed arms. “Correction. I only ate four proper snacks.” She grumbles. “Paimon needs at least six snacks and two full meals.”
“Fine, let's go.” Lumine sighs. She moves to stand up again, but Paimon pushes her back down on the sofa again.
“No, you rest here.” She says, shaking her head. “I can go on my own.”
Lumine’s smile drops.
“No.”
The word comes out more sharply than Lumine intends.
Paimon blinks at her.
Lumine sits forward, the exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “You're not going anywhere by yourself.”
“I'm just going to check out the stalls here in the station!”
“I know.”
“And Paimon won't be gone long!”
“I know.”
Paimon hovers there, looking increasingly exasperated. “Then what's the problem?”
Lumine doesn't answer immediately.
Her eyes drift toward the train doors.
Ronova.
The name alone is enough to make something cold settle in her chest.
She remembers the conversation too clearly— the threat hidden beneath those calm words, the knowledge that Paimon is no longer simply her little floating companion. Whatever Paimon truly is, whatever connection she has to Celestia, Ronova has made her intentions painfully clear.
She wants Paimon.
And if Ronova truly has the power to take her whenever she wants…
Lumine doesn't want to find out what happens if Paimon is alone when she comes.
“Lumine?”
Lumine looks back at her.
“I don't like the idea of you being alone.”
Paimon's expression softens.
“Because of Ronova?”
Lumine nods.
“She wants to take you to Celestia, Paimon. We don't know when she might decide to make good on that.”
“But—”
“She could take you at any time.”
Her voice is quieter now.
“And I don't know if I'd be able to stop her.”
For once, Paimon doesn't have a quick answer.
She looks down at her hands, then rocks slightly in the air.
“Well…”
Lumine raises an eyebrow.
“Well?”
Paimon gives her an awkward little smile.
“Paimon isn't really going alone.”
Lumine pauses.
“What does that mean?”
Paimon points toward the grand staircase of the station.
Lumine follows her finger.
At first, she sees nothing unusual.
Then—
A man standing beside one of the pillars catches her attention.
He's wearing a long dark coat and a hat pulled suspiciously low over his face.
Lumine squints.
The man immediately turns away.
She squints harder.
“…Is that a Fatui soldier?”
Paimon nods.
“Mhm.”
Lumine looks at Paimon.
Then back at the soldier.
Then at Paimon again.
“You have a Fatui soldier following you?”
“Apparently.”
“Apparently?”
“Pierro said Paimon needed protection.”
Lumine stares.
“And he sent him?”
The soldier shifts awkwardly, clearly realizing that his cover has been blown. He pretends to examine a timetable on the wall.
Lumine's eyes narrow.
“He's not even disguised properly.”
“I know.”
Even Childe’s men back at the hotel put in a little more effort to blend into the crowd. “He's just wearing a hat.”
“I know.”
“And he's been staring at us this entire time.”
“I know!”
Paimon throws her hands up.
“But he's a guard!”
Lumine can't help it.
A small laugh escapes her.
If someone had told her three years ago that she is now regarded as a valuable ally of the Fatui, she would have given them a good lamping.
Still, she doesn't look entirely convinced.
“Are there more?”
Paimon sheepishly nods.
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Paimon didn't exactly count them.”
Lumine sighs and presses her fingers against her temple.
“Of course you didn't.”
Paimon floats closer.
“See? Paimon will be okay! I'll just go get some snacks, and I'll be right back.”
Lumine looks toward the soldier again.
He gives her a very stiff nod.
It isn't reassuring.
Not even remotely.
But it is something.
Lumine finally exhales.
“Fine.”
Paimon's face lights up.
“Really?”
“Really. But don't go too far.”
“I won't!”
“And stay where your guard can see you.”
“He's probably got more eyes on Paimon than Lumine does!”
“That's not exactly comforting.”
Paimon giggles.
“Paimon will be fine!”
She starts floating toward the train doors before turning around.
“Try to rest while Paimon's gone!”
“I'll try.”
“And don't sneak off somewhere without telling Paimon!”
Lumine smiles faintly.
“I won't.”
Satisfied, Paimon goes off on her quest to procure more snacks for herself.
Lumine watches her float by her poorly disguised security guard.
Only then does she sink back against the sofa.
The exhaustion comes rushing back all at once.
She closes her eyes.
Finally.
Silence.
No Celestia.
No Archons.
No Fatui.
No ancient prophecies.
Just five minutes of peace.
Lumine lets her head fall against the back of the sofa.
She barely registers the soft hiss of the train doors opening, or the quiet footsteps approaching where she lays.
One.
Two.
Three.
Then a familiar voice sounds above her.
“Enjoying your peace and quiet?”
Lumine's eyes snap open.
She knows that voice.
Slowly, she looks up.
A familiar pair of blue eyes is looking down at her, accompanied by an infuriatingly handsome, stupid face.
Lumine stares.
“…You.”
Childe's smile widens.
“Miss me?”
She scoffs, and closes her eyes again. “Hello there Mr. Councilor,” she yawns, but her heart is beginning to betray her by the way it slowly begins to race. Childe groans at the name, and lightly pinches her arm. She swats him away. He has the audacity to sit next to her anyway and to pull her up to rest her head against his lap instead. “Where’s Tonia?”
“At the market with my mother,” he softly replies, pushing a strand of hair off her face with gentle fingers. “I have to get back to Veche soon.”
“You do,” Lumine replies.
She can hear the pout in Childe’s voice. “This is the first time I’ve seen you alone in months,” he whines. “Let me have this.”
“You’re so greedy,” Lumine scoffs, but her smile betrays her words.
“And how the fuck did you come to acquire a train?"
"Oh you know," she opens her eyes and shrugs her shoulders. "Just Fourth Descender things. All these things just magically appear to me." Childe scoffs and pokes her cheek. "Jealous?"
"No," he says. He looks around with a low whistle. "I know Sandrone would probably be envious though."
"I highly doubt it," she says. "It would just probably drive her to build something better than whatever this technology is made out of."
Lumine's smile lingers for a moment before fading.
Her fingers idly toy with the edge of her sleeve.
“So…” she murmurs. “You heard about what happened in the Armory Hall?”
Childe's expression changes.
“Of course I did.”
The teasing edge disappears from his voice.
“With Ronova. Pierro. Paimon…”
Lumine nods.
“I still don't know what to make of it.”
Childe's hand pauses in her hair.
“Neither do I.”
For once, there is no easy joke.
“I wasn't there,” he continues quietly. “But I heard enough afterward. Pierro has been keeping a very close eye on Paimon ever since.”
“I noticed.”
Lumine glances toward the station hall
“He apparently has guards following her now.”
Childe chuckles.
“Apparently?”
“I saw one.”
“One?”
“He was terrible at disguising himself.”
“That sounds about right.”
Lumine laughs softly, but her expression soon becomes serious again.
“Ronova scares me.”
Childe's fingers still.
“She should.”
Lumine looks up at him.
“You don't usually say things like that.”
“I don't usually have to.”
His thumb brushes slowly across her temple.
“But if what you told me is true… Ronova isn't someone you can afford to underestimate.”
“I know.”
“And Pierro?”
Lumine hesitates.
“I'm not sure what to think about him either.”
“That's probably wise.”
“He helped us.”
“He did.”
“But he's still Pierro.”
Childe's mouth twists into a faint smile.
“Now you're starting to sound like me.”
“Maybe I've been spending too much time around you.”
“Careful.”
His voice drops.
“You might start enjoying it.”
Lumine rolls her eyes.
“I was being serious.”
“So was I.”
She looks at him again.
And that's when she notices how close he's gotten.
His hand is still resting against her cheek. His thumb moves once, almost absentmindedly.
Neither of them speaks.
Lumine's heartbeat picks up.
Childe notices.
Of course he does.
His smile returns, slower this time.
“You're nervous.”
“I'm tired.”
“That's not what I said.”
“You're annoying.”
“And you're avoiding the question.”
Lumine shifts, attempting to sit up.
Childe's hand catches hers.
“Lumine.”
“What?”
“I've missed you.”
The words are simple.
Too simple.
She looks down at their hands.
“You said that already.”
“I know.”
“Then why say it again?”
“Because you keep pretending it doesn't matter.”
Her eyes lift to his.
For a moment, all the months apart seem to disappear.
The arguments.
The missions.
The times they'd promised they were done with each other.
The inevitable moments when one of them would come back anyway.
Lumine swallows.
She’s allied with them now, and they seem to have forgiven the past transgression, and the amount of personnel she’s wiped out with her own hands.
Politically, they’ve almost got nothing to worry about.
Almost.
“You're the one who keeps leaving.”
Childe's smile falters.
“And you're the one who keeps letting me come back.”
His fingers tighten slightly around hers.
“That isn't fair.”
“No,” he agrees quietly. “It isn't.”
Lumine should pull away.
Instead, she stays.
Childe leans closer.
“Tell me to stop.”
She doesn't.
His forehead nearly touches hers.
“Lumine.”
“Ajax…”
The way she says his name makes something in his expression shift.
He kisses her.
It isn't gentle at first.
It's months of distance and frustration and everything neither of them had managed to say, compressed into one reckless moment.
Lumine's fingers curl into the front of his coat.
Then she pulls back just enough to breathe.
“We were talking about Ronova.”
“I know.”
“And Pierro.”
“I know.”
“You're impossible.”
“I've been told.”
She gives him a breathless, exasperated look.
Then, despite herself, she leans in again.
Childe smiles against her lips.
“Still think I'm greedy?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
His hand settles at her waist.
“Wouldn't you want to think I've changed.”
Lumine should have known better than to kiss him again.
The moment she does, Childe's restraint seems to disappear.
His hand slides from her waist to the small of her back, drawing her closer until there's barely any space left between them. Lumine's fingers tighten in his coat, and she can feel the quiet laugh against her lips.
“What's so funny?” she murmurs.
“You.”
“Me?”
“You're the one who told me to go away.”
“I changed my mind.”
“I noticed.”
He kisses her again, slower this time, deliberately teasing. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against hers.
“You're playing a dangerous game, Miss Fourth Descender.”
Lumine's eyes narrow.
“You're the one who started it.”
“True.”
His fingers trace lightly along her jaw.
“And I'm not particularly interested in stopping.”
Her heart gives another traitorous flutter.
“Childe…”
“Hmm?”
“We're still on the train.”
“I know.”
“Paimon could come back.”
“She won't.”
“You don't know that.”
“I know Paimon.”
His grin returns.
“She'll spend at least another twenty minutes deciding which snacks she wants.”
Lumine laughs under her breath.
“You're ridiculous.”
“And yet…”
He leans closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“You haven't asked me to leave.”
Lumine doesn't answer.
Instead, she catches him by the collar and pulls him back down.
The kiss this time is enough to wipe every thought about Ronova, Pierro, Celestia, and Snezhnaya from her mind.
For a few precious minutes, there is only him.
And the dangerous familiarity of having him this close again.
Lumine should have known better than to kiss him again.
The moment she does, Childe's hand settles at her waist, drawing her a little closer.
Then someone walks past the train window.
Lumine freezes.
Another person follows.
Then another.
The Grand Station is still packed despite the late hour, travelers streaming across the platform with luggage in tow, merchants calling to one another, Fatui personnel moving between platforms. The train may offer them a little privacy, but certainly not enough.
Lumine pulls back immediately.
“Childe.”
“Hm?”
She gestures toward the window.
“People.”
He glances over.
A family passes directly beside the carriage, the youngest child briefly pressing his face against the glass before being pulled along by his mother.
Childe watches them disappear into the crowd.
Then he looks back at Lumine.
“…That's unfortunate.”
“Unfortunate?”
“For us.”
“You're unbelievable.”
He laughs under his breath.
Lumine straightens her clothes, trying to regain some semblance of composure.
“We are not doing anything else here.”
“I didn't say we were.”
“You were about to.”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Exactly.”
Childe leans back, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“You're the one who kissed me.”
“Because you wouldn't stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you were going to do something stupid.”
He gives her an innocent look.
“I would never.”
Lumine stares at him.
“Right.”
Another group of people passes outside.
She instinctively shifts farther away from the window.
Childe notices and laughs.
“Relax. Nobody's paying attention to us.”
“That's not the point.”
“Then what's the point?”
“The point is that this station is practically full of people.”
He looks toward the window again.
A pair of Fatui agents walks past.
Then several travelers.
Then a merchant pushing an enormous cart.
Childe nods solemnly.
“Fair assessment.”
Lumine sighs and sinks back into the sofa.
For a moment, they sit quietly. Childe reaches over and takes her hand, and she finds comfort in their callouses and battle scars brushing against each other like they truly belong there.
She glances down.
“You're pushing your luck.”
“I know.”
His thumb brushes over her knuckles. “We never have the time for ourselves.”
The teasing disappears from his voice.
Lumine looks at him.
“I know.”
“I don't want to waste the little time I have.”
Her expression softens.
Neither of them says anything for a while.
Then Childe leans closer, just enough that only she can hear him.
“So…”
Lumine raises an eyebrow.
“Whenever we're somewhere private?”
She smacks him with her free hand.
“Don't.”
His grin returns.
“Yes, darling.”
Lumine rolls her eyes, but her fingers tighten around his.
Outside, the Grand Station remains a blur of people and movement.
And for once, Childe has enough sense to keep his hands to himself.
Mostly.