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Mondstadt has many festivals to commemorate their archon: Be it in memory of his and the rebellions uprising or to thank for a good harvest. There is however another holiday, one that takes place before the god’s big winter nap. Just like the other holidays, the Winter Solstice is about the adoration of the people of the wind for their deity, but the bigger emphasis is also on his adoration for them: as he asks them to take a breather and coming to rest, lights up the darkness with warm light and hands them over gifts for their hard work. In that regard the deity is meant to have a more active role and official celebrations are also organised by the church with the help of the Knights of Favonius.
Festivities take place in the church and one part of the program is that someone dressed as Barbatos is giving small gifts (usually stuff like candy, fruits, and nuts) to the kids present. While discussing who might take the important role this year Barbara suggests Venti, because of his performance at the Weinlese Fest. Other people, mainly the other nuns, are not too fond of the idea due his known tavern eccentrics. They believe that someone like this probably isn’t good with kids and to represent their beloved deity. It is however the Acting Grandmasters, whose opinion is quite esteemed among everyone present, agreement to that proposal that lets everyone else also, agree on that suggestion.
Jeans reasoning for this choice was however a selfish one (in her opinion at least), as she simply was very keen to the thought of seeing Venti presenting himself as the Anemo Archon Barbatos, in all the paraphernalia attached to it. Which is why she saw it as her duty to ask him personally if he wants to take part in this. It didn’t take long to find him in one of the many taverns of the city, when she entered, the place got a little quieter. As she was approaching Venti everyone was expecting that she is likely here because he pulled some bullshit again, including himself.
He asked in his usual playful tone what he did this time to have the Acting Grandmaster taking him personally with her, to which Jean shook her head and replied that she wasn’t here for this but that she has a favour to ask and explained the situation. Venti seemed to actually think about the proposal, as he looked lost in thoughts and had a rarely present serious expression on his face. Jean already thought he would refuse to participate, he wants to keep a low profile after all, but to her surprise he did agree without much convincing words. Maybe she was a little too obvious happy about the answer, because he let her leave with the parting words of “it is the archons duty to keep his people happy after all” (or something along the line), paired with an expression that made her feel like her intentions were already figured out.
The day of the celebration came and after other program points like singing carols and what not were finished, it was time for the most interesting part: the Anemo Archon making his appearance. Venti stepped into the hall in an attire that loosely represented the one the statue in front of the church is wearing: A long sleeve and simple pants, with a light cloth that sorta represented a cloak on top. It was rather modest and simple looking, with little decorations, such as small embroidery on the cloth and the main accessory being a crown made of mostly dried flowers and leaves, representing the end of year. The task was to some tunes to encourage the kids to say their thanks to the Archon and wishing for a happy next year, in which the god replies by thanking them for being good kids and keeping Mondstadt alive and thriving and gift them a little something from his basket.
Everyone is free to say whatever they feel like, but there are also generation’s old poems that are usually quoted to make things easier. When approaching the first kid, one who isn’t really too keen of that all and also doesn’t have a poem to say, Ventis reaction is rather inapt first. Like agreeing with the child that the whole atmosphere does seem a little boring innit and there are quiet groans from organising folks expecting he is about to fuck the whole thing up already, but no: soft toned he approaches the kid in the right manner, speaks a poem he just thought of in their place and hands them over the treat just like that.
The quirky nature of the poem amusing the little dissident enough to repeat it quietly, which is rewarded by another gift. This is not the only fun poetry at this evening, as Venti makes up more poems and songs on the spot for the kids easy to follow. His bard persona making the whole thing quite livelier than it’s meant to be, but it has the kids moving and sing along and happy about their small gifts.
If jean could hear what the guests and participants were mumbling she would know how people are pleasantly surprised how well he deals with the kids. But her gaze was on Venti, blurring out pretty much everything else as she watched him sing, perform and swirl, using his anemo “vision” to let kids levitate a little.
After the event’s conclusion the nuns approached Venti, thanking him for his good even if unusual performance. He certainly made the audience feel like the spirit of the Anemo Archon was with them. With a smile he thanked them for their kindness and said that he’s happy they are satisfied with his work and asked them if he could take the costume with him, to clean it before returning. Surprised but not unhappy about this offer the nuns allowed it, little did they know that this piece of clothing will maybe not return to them as it will get some other use today.
Since the main organisator was the church, the knights didn’t have much after work and Jean left fairly early despite the kind of event. When she arrived home, she found herself not being the only resident. Upon entering the living room area, a familiar figure float up quickly from a coach to welcome her home warmly. A small dark haired figure, known to most as a bard knowledgeable of many songs, to handful as the disguised god of this land. This wasn’t the first time Venti invited himself to her place, surprising her with his presence, yet it didn’t fail to make her gasp in surprise as given the gown he was wearing was the Archon costume from the festivities.
The room was illuminated with a few candles, enough to see each other. Venti opened the conversation with the words that this was quite the fun event and asked if his execution was to her liking. Jean agreed that the festivities went good and added that his part was done exceptional well in her opinion, putting emphasis on that performing as a deity loved by their people suits him well. Venti chuckled to that compliment and took a few steps closer to Jean, saying that the knights did their part of the event pretty good as well. Wandering his eyes over her taller figure, as he slowly closes the distance between them, he adds that she looked not bad herself in that ceremonial knight attire which she wore for this special occasion.
Now however, from the said special attire the top layers are missing, as Jean removed those when entering her place. The most prominent feature now only being a black, slight unbuttoned long shirt that goes with pants of a lighter fabric, not unlikely to these she’s usually wears. When right in front of her, Venti put his palms on her shoulders, letting them wander over Jeans arms for a little while, before looking up to her and ending his observation with a melodic “handsome” from his lips as their eyes met.
So up close, even under the dim light, Jean could tell that the costume he wore wasn’t quite … authentic, as in: it wasn’t complete, missing the beneath shirt. The loosely wrapped light fabric reveals a few cuts, a prominent one allowing a glimpse at the azure markings on the archons delicate body. Usually hidden neatly behind a shirt, they now glow faintly, as if wanted to be seen, luring the knight’s gaze into their direction. Caught in her own act, she quickly raised her sight again. Apologetic guild not having the time to climb up her back as small hands first squeeze, then stroke her biceps, accompanied by green eyes glistening in anticipation.
Jean exhales sharply, before feeling able to form words again. “Thank you … for taking part in this, Venti” she says then in a soft, endearing tone.
“Ehh~“ Venti purrs as an answer. “I suppose the spirit of the Anemo Archon should be felt quite literal once in a while, even if presented by a mere little bard” he says, getting a small amused hum from Jean.
“Sister Victoria said I was likely one of the best 5 they had to play, if I work more on attitude, I can be more believable next time, quite the compliment no?” said the bard with a wink.
Jean nods, then raises her lower arms to cup his slightly, saying “Attitudes like not drinking at the day of the festive evening?“
“Unlikely to happen!”
“I m afraid then you will not surpass the legendary performance of Albedo 5 years ago.”
They burst laughing. Venti is the first to catch breath again: “I assume you watched plenty present givings to form a statistic, Jean” he says.
“Most of the ones that happened during my lifetime” Jean replies.
“As part of the knights?” he asks.
“Yes, but also as a child, with father being a cardinal, we used to join many of the church’s festivities, including this one, before he parted” she answers.
“Hmm~ this means you received a gift plenty times yourself”
“Yes, but..” Jean paused for a bit, her gaze wandering to the side “… realising that the one giving them out wasn’t the real Anemo Archon… left me wonder how it would be if he joined us for real one day…” she hesitates to look into his direction again and the pleased expression he has on his face, feeling a little embarrassed about confessing the real nature of her proposal to his participation.
“I hope the experience met your expectations” said the small god, putting her gaze back to his direction.
“V-very” a reply that came out of her faster that she wanted.
“Good! Hehe” he laughs, before letting go of her. Taking a step back, he fumbles in the cowl of his cloak. Finding what he was looking for he presents her in his palm a small piece of candy, wrapped prettily in red paper, likely a leftover from today festivities. “Today is your lucky day then” he says in a teasing manner, leaving Jean wondering what mischief got into the little head of his this time. And she didn’t had to wait long to find out as he leaned forward, in a manner someone usually does when talking to someone shorter but he was looking up to her instead, one hand behind his back, the other presenting the sweet treat, he says:
“Well, little Gunnhildr, do you have a poem ready for Lord Barbatos?”
Jean snorts at his pertness first “Are you making fun of me?” she says amused.
“Just indulging in a wish from many years ago” he replies, in a tone gentle and docile suddenly, it makes her shiver a little.
He may took part in the celebration for his own amusement, he loves to perform after all and he loves to perform the most to his Mondstadters, but right now he is only here for her and her alone. How to not join such a gesture, even if it’s been like two decades the last time she recited any of these poems, but with the help of today’s children she can put together the beginning of one of them, which is met with an approving nod from the one it’s meant for. Visibly thinking hard about the next verse, the god decided to help her by speaking the lines out to her, following today’s example she just have to repeat that, which she does. The following verse however, is definitely not from any known poem, as it’s content to racy in its nature to be meant for a child’s ears.
Jean hesitates for a moment to speak the bold words he tries to put into her mouth, but decides to keep playing this little play and watches Venti’s grin widen, visibly satisfied with his scheme. As he spoke out the next words he made a little hop forward, small in its nature yet it’s enough to get him high up in the air, almost touching the roof. The elemental power used to get him towering above her, makes itself present by a pleasant breeze and a dim light coming from the deity’s body. A dim blue light that shines through the thin fabric he wears and gives an idea of the figure it’s a covering. The view is short lived, as the breeze vanishes and Venti falls back to the earth, but Jeans arms, moving quick and instinctually, catch him secure.
Holding him by the back and thighs firmly, she grasps that he is quite definitely not wearing most of costume. If this wasn’t enough to make her face burn, so was it surely the second half of the verse, that she is expected to repeat. Both of his arms around her neck, he awaits her execution and she does not disappoint him yet again. With a nervous, yet dedicated voice, she says what he wants to hear. The last verse is spoken slow with a coy tongue, the cheeky gods free hand twirling the strands of her neat ponytail. Biting lip, then concluding this intimate poem, the knights insides get hot when rewarded with the words “Well done dear, you can have your reward now”.
Usually when finishing their poem, one little devotee would put both hands together, having the fake archon put the gift into their palms, but now one grown up devotee has both hands full with the real archon, so the only way to accept this hard earned reward is having it placed right on the tongue. It feels all too well schemed. A god whose mischief knows no bounds, really. Is what goes through the tall woman’s mind first, when watching the little varmint put on allegedly afflicted expression due her hesitation, saying “what’s wrong? you don’t want it?” holding the small piece of candy up. It should be frustrating how seemingly easy he can play her but… it is really anything but that.
Is it really mischief if the situation she is put in is something she desired from the moment her eyes saw him in that humble, yet beautiful looking costume? It must have been so obvious, from how her sight was glued to his shape, maybe it was already obvious the moment she set foot in the tavern personally for the request. Their god was keen on his people happiness, sing and dance is what they should do every day, sing and dance is what he loves to do for them, with them. And she was not blind that this is for her sake, coming to her place, presenting himself like this and a lot of endearment swell in the knights chest.
What a kind deity, so considered of the wishes of those he calls his own. Wouldn’t it be the greatest honour to receive a gift straight from these gentle hands? The shy expression on Jeans face shifted into something more firm, more longing: “How could I not want it, if it’s given by you”. Words that turned his expression into one she was more familiar with. A feeling of accomplishment rushing through her body when watching him unwrap the sweet treat, holding it with his teeth, while one hand removes the cover with quick fingers. It was certainly an intriguing view too.
The undraped prize presented in front of her, she parted her lips to receive it, only for it being placed teasingly on her lower lip, little force asking her to open her mouth just a bit more. Complying with this task, it gets suddenly removed and the knight watches the deity’s mouth gape, pacing the candy on the tip of his tongue. With the now free hand wandering to her cheek, he closes their mouths into a kiss. The other hand, used to stroke her back the whole time, now trailing it’s way to her neck to grasp it firmly from behind.
Tongues clicking eagerly, the additional sweetness in their mixed saliva adds almost as much sensation to the knights fuzzy getting mind as feeling her god arch in response of her fingers digging deeper into his soft skin. After parting their kiss, Venti brushes his tongue over the front of his teeth, while watching Jean bite down and swallow the remains of candy they shared. Ah, how enchanting she looked, eyes narrow and longing from the desire they aroused. He couldn’t help to giggle a little when cupping her hot face.
“Thank you for keeping my Mondstadt secure this year as well, my dandelion” he purred softly, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.
Oh what power those words had over her. Stroking her neglected ego and rewarding her devotion, all at once. Protecting Mondstadt is not just her duty, it’s also where her heart and soul lays and he was the very personification of it. Igniting the wish to speak prayers into his skin, hearing him sing from pleasure and praise her deed. But all those wishes materialise in only one pleading “My Lord”, sending a shiver down the deity’s small body when hearing being referred to so hallowedly. Not unnoticed by his devotee, the slender fingers gripping her reddish skin a little firmer for a mere second, a deep inhale visualising his lost of composure.
It takes him a moment to get back into the persona he’s is trying to play, a deep breath, before meeting her with shining eyes and a gentle smile, that means far more than a god having agape love for their humans. If it wasn’t for her holding him firmly, Jean would collapse on the spot of how weak it makes her. The God of Winds spoke yet again: “The time has come to my slumber, would you join me in my nest, my warrior?” a delicate, almost sheepish kiss is put on her yearning lips, inviting with a little nip to invade the inside of his mouth. It doesn’t need further conviction to join his request and to carry him to her bedroom.
Placed upon her sheets, their kissed parted once again with Venti feeling the need to praise her eagerness while stroking her face, followed by Jean loosing grip from his waist, cupping one of his resting hands with hers. Once in her hand, she takes it to her mouth, placing clicking kisses on the backside of his palm, trailing up to his wrist, mumbling quietly between each kiss. Barely hearable, the words intentions are very clear to the one they are meant for.
“Hmm so is this sort of scene we play tonight, dear?” he chuckled, watching the taller one looking up to meet his eyes.
“Please allow me to indulge myself, when receiving the rare privilege of seeing you like this, Venti” she said low and urgently, but still with a faint of shyness, upon realising how disrespecting her intentions must sound, making her unable to keep the eye contact by the time she finished talking.
Usually it takes him more buttons to push to hear the tiniest, selfish wish to become vocal, so the millennials old bard can barely hide his excitement for experiencing the sight of his Dandelion speaking out her wishes so clearly. Bursting out a gleeful “of course!” before clearing his throat and adjusting himself to get back into his more divine persona. Opening his arms widely and welcoming, saying in the most utter benevolent voice:
“Would one be the god of freedom, if one wouldn’t grand you the freedom to do whatever your desire, my beautiful knight?” Words like honey, it made her sigh deeply. She lets herself fall gently on his chest, muttering quietly “thank you”, it becomes clear that this gratitude lies deeper than just for receiving the allowance to be a worshipper tonight. The sudden shift is not unwelcome, be it a hungry lion or a comfort seeking cat, he loved her in every shape and gladly gave her whatever she needed.
Stroking her head and one shoulder in caring manner, he spoke words of comfort, of praise into her ear. Oh how beautiful and colourful these words were, it makes the knight almost want to cry, as she lied on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Even eyes closed, Jean could feel the thin markings on her god’s body glow faintly when he breathed in, brighter as he exhaled and it almost felt like as if the very air to breathe is coming from the depths of his body. How to not show gratitude to such a kind gift in the most devoted way possible?
She shifts her face to find herself able to place a small kiss on his throat. A sigh, followed by a chuckle gave her the approval to trail lower, tracing his ribcage with her lips before giving into the urge of recolouring the deity’s skin in shades of red by sucking on it, tickling out a sensual moan, when adding teeth. Her right hand in search to adore his other markings, runs up his left thigh, pushing away the cloth that is covering it, to grab it firmly, the left hand squeezing his absurd small waist.
If this wasn’t the vessel of a divine being it would probably break very easily under so much eager force. The gods hands grabs the mortals long golden hair, running through it with one hand, the other caressing her neck, while the mouth utters words of praise. The room gets increasingly more blue in colour, as the gods breaths shifts from his devotees touches, allowing her to feel his, no, their mutual element.
