Chapter Text
“Oh, where would this ever lead me? I’ve been searching for him all day…” the deaconess muttered to herself as she made way toward the dirt path. But something suddenly popped in her mind.
She recalled the time when the female Traveler helped save the city from Stormterror. Lumine did mention that the bard was the one who led them to it. Meaning that there was a possibility that he was there! She felt herself become lost in excitement and the desperate feeling fading away. But, firstly, she needed to head there.
…
The Anemo Archon was currently in Stormterror’s Lair. He decided to escape to the ruin after healing under the Vennessa Tree, to hope that he won’t get caught again. He had been staying here for the past few days after being dumped out by the red-haired bartender of the winery. It upsets him heavily, after all, Angel’s Share was his home—correction— settlement.
And so he decides to brood up on his friend’s lair. Good thing the dragon was making its usual rounds in the sky, so Dvalin may come back in a week or two. The feeling of the wind currents ruffling his hair brought him to peace and comfort. He hummed a familiar ballad and as the tune progressed, he began adding lyrics at the faintest voice. He dearly wished that he could forget all of his problems at once. However, his thoughts came to an abrupt halt when a splash of water dropped on his face and dampened his hair and clothes.
“Found you!” came a voice from behind him, startling him entirely.
The bard rubbed his face and spat out the water that hindered him from speaking. He turned around and found a blonde girl, dressed in white robes with hands on her hips and sapphire blue eyes that glared at him. From which, he glared back.
“Bleurgh! How rude…” he snapped. For a split second, the blonde knew she made a mistake.
She did not intend to slap him with the use of her Vision, but it turned out that her instincts acted faster than she thought. All of a sudden, she knelt down on the platform and clasped her hands together, a hint of desperation and anxiety on her pale features.
“I’m so sorry!” she pleaded with all her might. “I-I did not intend for this to happen. I came here to find you and ask you to fix the Holy Lyre der Himmel! It has been broken and I really really need your help! I’ve been searching everywhere!”
Venti simply stared at her with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised and part of his face was covered with his soaking hair. It was natural of him to roll his eyes quickly even before she could get the chance to see it.
“Well… that seemed like a rather harsh greeting,” he commented, before giving her a dull gaze. Barbara became even more hysterical and began weeping uncontrollably on the ground.
Venti didn’t know if he was becoming quite irritated about her behavior earlier. He was just… teasing, perhaps. He placed a hand over his face and let out a soft chuckle, which made the deaconess stand up in worry.
“What is it? Something—” she paused after realizing that he was laughing at her. Oh he really should not underestimate someone like her.
SMACK!
This time, she did not use her Vision so her slap reddened the bard’s cheek even more. He spat thinking that he was wetted again.
“Oh you mischievous bard!” she exclaimed at the top of her lungs.
The musician hadn’t known what came over him, but for a short moment, he found himself to be somewhere else, all he could see were patches of grass and a boy about his age (physically). He had the very same braids tied on his hair that dangled loosely. And a small floating creature hovering beside him. That boy had a smile on his face and he heard him say the exact same thing Barbara had exclaimed.
‘Haha! You mischievous bard!’
Then they were gone and he was back with the deaconess who kept throwing him disgusted looks. He hadn’t known how he looked, but he was certain that a tear nearly dropped from the corner of his eye. He managed to produce a brush of Anemo to dry himself and dry the wet tear from his cheek.
However, Barbara noticed it and stopped her angry attitude. She stared at him as if she had just seen a ghost of some sorts.
“A-Are you crying? I-” she stammered and shuffled to his side quickly. Her face showed pure concern. Venti smiled weakly.
“I’m fine,” he replied, untruthfully. “Just remembered something.” Barbara frowned and suddenly felt guilty for scolding him earlier.
“I-I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything,” she admitted, looking down on the floor.
“Hehe, it’s alright. Sorry for making you worry either,” he apologized.
“Are you sure you’re all fine?” she suspected. Venti nodded his head approvingly.
“Yeah! Nothing to worry about!”
“Okay,” Barbara asked, even more gently. “So, about the Holy Lyre…”
“Ah, well…” he began. “There’s just one tiny problem.”
Barbara felt her heart drop as he said this. What would the sisters and her archon think of her, now? Will she be scolded in the cathedral for it? Punishment? A rush of thoughts and all the possibilities came to mind and deepened her anxiety more.
“The Holy Lyre?” he continued on. “Its fix was just temporary. It’s actually impossible to repair it.”
“Haaaah!?” she gasped in surprise as her eyes widened. “Oh Lord Barbatos, please forgive me for this sin I have committed! I was not loyal in keeping the lyre in a good condition!!!”
Venti let out a tired sigh and placed a hand to his face. Seeing the deaconess asking for forgiveness in front of him was something quite annoying, but also pleasant. Instead of making things worse, he took the blame on himself, despite knowing the lyre’s value as its archon.
“Look,” he finally said. Barbara looked up to listen to his plea. “I’m sorry for running away and troubling you. I just had to do it.”
“That wasn’t a nice way to do so,” she said. The bard let out a dry laugh and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“I’m sorry, okay?” he began to beg. “Please, please, please?”
“I-I… hmph!” she gave in and crossed her arms. “Fine.” The a smile appeared on her face. And for once, Venti didn’t know if he could take his eyes off of it.
“Why, thank you, darling deaconess!” he said, confidently placing his hands on his hips.
“Speaking of which,” she said. “Why are you here? Isn’t it quite dangerous? You haven’t been in the city for days…”
“Hehe, some things are quite complicated on my end,” he responded, tilting his head. “Well, how did you end up here?”
“I was escorted by the Honorary Knight,” she answered, quite stiffly. “Good thing she helped me out with some monsters on the way. She left once I made it here safely. And she also lent me her Wind Glider.”
“Oh? Well, she is quite the charmer that the young outlander is,” he commented.
“She truly is.”
For a long moment they stayed silent, hesitating to continue their conversation. Barbara kept glancing from behind, which made the bard feel paranoid.
“Are you hiding from someone?” he asked out of the blue. She fidgeted for a while before proceeding.
“B-Before the Honorary Knight caught up with me, I was chased by a few fans earlier,” she said. “Not that I don’t want their company or anything! It’s just… I never get time for myself, if you know what I mean. Is it alright if I stay? I’m sure that there will be a lot more to do once I get back and that I won’t be able to have time like this.”
Venti gave her a pitiful smile and summoned his lyre. He played a few notes in a soft and mellow melody.
“I don’t mind! Come and take a seat, I have written a new ballad,” he said, nonchalantly.
“Thank you so much…?”
He giggled, fondly.
“It’s Venti.”
“Thank you so much, Venti.”
…
“The view from up here totally lightens the atmosphere, huh?” The blonde heard him mutter quietly. She gave him a slight nod and hummed in response.
There they were, sitting at the edge of the broken platform of Stormterror’s Lair. Legs swinging as it suspended above them. Venti continued to play a familiar tune and offered if he could sing her a song. She nodded her head again and turned her blue gaze to his.
Once a wisp of a thousand winds, awakens from his long awaited slumber
People turn to him, a gaze not as cold as amber
But where oh where would his voice lead them?
If all is lost and they are condemned.
‘Mondstadt is in need of a worthy leader!’ He used to say
And so his people join and pray
Sing melodious chants
That are not worth for rants
Dance to a melody
Without knowing it’s symphony
And so he leads his people out of tyranny
When all was lost,
It had a cost.
A scar was marked deep into his heart
Like a spear to a target’s dart.
Venti finished the last note and waited for the deaconess to comment about it. He had a just and determined expression that somehow read hers. He understood how she felt.
“It’s about him, isn’t it?” she asked. “The Anemo Archon sacrificed a lot for his people. Just to free them from tyranny. It happened in this place.” The bard hummed, cheerfully.
“My, you’re educated!” he said enthusiastically and allowed the instrument to float and disperse in front of them.
“Is it really worth it?” she questioned as she eyed the ground, sweeping her fingers on the dusty platform.
“What do you mean?”
“Am I really worthy to be Lord Barbatos’ follower? Do I really help the people around me even though I can’t fight in certain battles myself?” she muttered. “Is this all I am? What has been my main purpose? I heal, yes, but does it certainly take away the pain of people?”
“Barbara, you’re making things complicated for yourself,” he told her, brushing his fingers slightly to the top of her hand.
“I-I shouldn’t have opened up like that,” she suddenly said, covering her face from the embarrassment. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay!” he assured her. “To tell you, honestly, I think you’re a fantastic person! I may have not been watching your concerts very often, but, I could just say it does happen to lure the crowd! And even with your healing abilities, I’ve seen you do your best in healing people as possible.”
“Is that how much you’ve noticed about me?” she raised an eyebrow.
Venti had to look away to hide the blush that pulsed in his cheeks, he just gave her an ‘ehe,’ and got back to his point.
“I’m not that kind of person! I can’t help it though, given we mostly see each other next to my—ah—Lord Barbatos’ statue,” he told her.
“That’s quite nice of you,” she said.
“Just to let you know, I’m only a breeze away,” Venti explained. “I’ll always be there to listen, okay?”
“Venti… I-” she stammered, but was brought to comfort with his kind words. “I don’t know what to say…”
Barbara couldn’t help but smile at the bard. He sure does have a way of making people fond of him.
Venti finally placed his hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze.
“So, does this mean we’re friends?”
“I have already considered you as a friend, Venti.”
“Really!? That’s great to know!”
They stayed like that in silence, feeling the cold breezes sweeping through their hair. Her pigtails tied loosely as it swayed from side to side. The blonde was so caught up with the peaceful area, she sooner realized that she had stayed there for quite some time already. Quite longer than intended.
“Oh, I hadn’t noticed how long I’ve been staying here! I must take my leave,” she said standing up. She was just going to dust her dress when she realized that her hand was still being held by the bard. She blushed at the sight.
“Ahem… Venti, uh— my hand.”
“Hm? Oh yeah, right, sorry.”
She pulls her hand to the side and glances shyly behind.
“It’s fine.”
“Should I take you back?”
“I’m supposed to be asking you that.”
“Well, perhaps Master Diluc has forgiven me after all that. Sure, I’ll come!”
“Alright, then.”
“May I hold your hand, again, to make sure you're safe?”
“I—uh…”
“I promise I won’t cause a ruckus, hehe. This bard knows how to keep up.”
“S-Sure.”
And together they headed back to Mondstadt. Faces burning crimson and hands intertwined. The bright silver of moonlight illuminates their faces in a pearly glow.
Barbara tried ignoring the thought of feeling safe in his hold. She can’t deny the fact that she was getting warmer, despite having the cold night breeze circulating the atmosphere.
It’s nothing much, Barbara, it’s just holding hands!