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“You ever think about having kids?”
This was not how she expected a rare quiet afternoon under the great Windrise oak tree. If Lumine had been drinking her wine, she would have spit it out everywhere. Instead she burst out laughing, pushing his face away from hers as he tried to kiss her. “What?”
Her favorite grin stretched wide across his face, with only the softest blush across the bridge of his strong, straight nose. “You know. Like, procreation.”
“Gods above, Childe. If anyone else asked me that question, I’d be freaking out.” She went to move off his lap, but he forcibly kept her in place, as though afraid to let her go. A determination flickered in those deep blue eyes, more fierce than she’d seen before. So, she poked his nose, raising a brow. “Especially since we just started dating.”
The humor on his face never vanished, as if he knew exactly what he was asking. But the growling blush blooming across his face, making the constellation of freckles on his high cheekbones glow, suggested otherwise.
Then he pulled away, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. “Fair enough,” He said, not meeting her eyes. “You’ll have to forgive me, I don’t exactly have that much dating experience.”
“Obviously,” She teased, kissing his cheek and sliding off his lap, grabbing one of the grapes from the picnic basket. The late afternoon sun painted purple and orange streaks across the sky, bathing the entire field in a golden light. “Next thing you know, you’ll be asking me to marry you.”
The very scary Harbinger spit out his drink. “W-what?!”
“Exactly.”
A pause. Then, “Well, now that we’re talking about it…”
“No, I will not marry you,” Lumine quickly clarified, spotting his wicked grin. “Not after two dates, at least.”
“A shame. You’d make a beautiful bride.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth.”
Childe threw his head back and cackled, his laugh rich and melodic. A comfortable silence settled between them as they went back to snacking on their meal, the previous makeout session thoroughly interrupted by her boyfriend’s… interesting question. The soft breeze blowing across the open plains sang through the leaves, the grass rippling like waves off the Falcon Coast. Every once in a while, she would catch the strong scent of fresh spring dirt after a rainstorm (and the subtler smell of apples), and if she listened closely, she swore she could hear the gentle strumming of a lyre, the song delicate and as sweet as this moment.
“Seriously though,” Her lover hummed after a long moment, fiddling with his hands. “What about kids?”
“Childe,” She breathed, ignoring the exasperation lacing her words. “That’s not–”
“I’m not asking you to take off your clothes, silly. Just answer the question.”
Lumine frowned, studying the pattern of the picnic blanket like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “I dunno. I don’t think about it too often.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m more focused on the here and now, rather than all the “what ifs” of the future. Like, I don’t even know if there will be a world to have kids in, so…”
“Lumi.”
“Plus, Paimon is basically a kid! Have you seen how much she eats? And the temper tantrums, my gods, she rivals Focalors some days. If that’s any indication of what being a mom will be like–”
“Lu.”
“Maybe Aether will have a whole gaggle of gremlins. Then I can be the cool aunt who gets drunk at their birthday parties–”
“Lumine!” Childe shouted, breaking her train of thought. She rapidly blinked, surprised by the interruption, then glanced away to hide her blush. “You’re rambling, myla.”
“Sorry,” She said, and meant it. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Another moment of silence as they both tried to figure out what to say next, the plethora of unsaid thoughts hanging between them. She allowed herself one look at her Harbinger, worried to take in his reaction, only to find him tearing a piece of grass into shreds. His deep red brow furrowed in thought. “So I’ll take that as a no to kids.”
“At least right now, yeah,” She explained, shedding her own nervousness and crawling back into his lap again. After all, it was only Childe. If she could confess her own feelings for him, she could tell him anything. For a moment, she thought he may reject her, until those gloved hands slowly slid up her back and pulled her closer. “You forget I’m not from here, and technically, not human. Stars don’t exactly have parents, so I don’t have a mother to base my experiences on.”
A tic formed in that sharp jaw, her heart skipping a beat at the sight. “I get it. It’s totally understandable.”
“You seem disappointed.”
“I’m not.”
Liar. “Childe,” She whispered, her voice almost a purr, tilting his chin up. Something in his azure eyes glimmered with delighted recognition, before furrowing, like he was trying to understand his own conflicted emotions. “I like you. A lot. So don’t… ruin what we have going for us right now with difficult conversations.”
At that, he gave a curt nod. “That’s fine.”
“We can revisit them in, I dunno, one to two years from now?”
That wild grin returned and Childe sat up straighter, his lips only inches from hers. “Aw– you see me as a long-term boyfriend?”
What? “What?”
“You like me!”
Archons above. “Shut up.”
“You want to kiss me!”
All of the time, much to her dismay. Still, Lumine rolled her eyes and pushed his face away as he snuck even closer, his hands firm against the base of her spine. “I’d rather kiss a lawlachurl–”
Before she could even finish her terrible joke, Childe rolled her over beneath him, the scent of pine and the sea outweighing anything else. Her heart skipped another scandalous beat as a hungry glare raked across his face. For a moment, she wondered if he’d lied about the not asking her to take off her clothes thing, and for a split second, she wouldn’t have minded.
Then her eyes widened as his fingers began tickling her, shrieking his name in frustration and breathless delight. She kicked, he dodged– damn him for his stupid Fatui Harbinger reflexes!– and continued his barrage until she was practically begging him to stop, her sides aching from uncontrollable laughter. Her lover hadn’t stopped chuckling as one large hand pinned her in place, his other fingers tangling in her hair.
Lumine gasped as he gave a good tug on the silky blonde strands, as if reminding her of why she liked him so much in the first place. Her lover hummed softly before diving into the kiss they both yearned for like the air they breathed, and the conversation of kids evaporated like puddles of rain on a hot summer’s day.
***
An impatient shriek suddenly filled the tiny restaurant, echoing off the ramen shop’s bamboo wall. Both Childe and Lumine instantly flinched at the sound, spotting the toddler sliding onto the tile floor, kicking and screaming the entire time. Their parents said something in Inazuman, hushed and frustrated, but when the little one only started screaming louder, the father scooped up the boy and tossed him over his shoulder. Childe could see the frustration rippling off the burly man as he ignored each punch and kick to the face until they got outside the restaurant.
An awkward moment of silence replaced the void of the child’s screams. He cleared his throat, sipping at the warm ramen broth, trying not to slurp too loudly. How many times had he been on the other end of that temper tantrum? How many times had he had to be the one to take the brunt of embarrassment while his parents spent their one evening out on the town, tossing an exhausted younger sibling over his shoulder and hurrying out?
“Just another reason,” Lumine mumbled, spinning her noodles slowly.
“Hm?”
“Why I’d be nervous to have kids.”
Childe snorted, leaning on one hand. “You thinking about us doing some baby-making, kochana?”
Amber eyes shot up and pinned him in place, her glare as icy as the Tsaritsa’s. “If you ever say that again, I’ll make you sleep outside in the dirt.”
“Harsh.” He took another long sip of his noodles and hummed, savoring the salty, rich taste. “So, what about that makes you nervous?”
His girlfriend shifted nervously in her seat, setting her chopsticks down. Funny, he hardly knew her to turn down a meal, especially since she had pushed to come to Inazuma on a foodie trip.
“I dunno,” She finally explained, glancing away. After a moment, she began chewing on her bottom lip, tapping her nails against the wooden table. He could recognize her anxiety better than he could recognize his own some days. “I feel like I wouldn’t know what to do in that situation. Especially as a mom.”
“You’re great with kids,” He offered, reaching across the table to take her hand and squeeze her fingers. She still didn’t meet his eyes. “I’ve seen you handle them in Mondstadt.”
“Yeah, but they aren’t mine. I don’t have to discipline them or disappoint them when they don’t get what he want.”
Childe smirked, shaking his head. “A valid concern.” He’d often had a similar one whenever he returned home, especially since he got to be the fun big brother.
“Plus, those kids are older. They’re in the fun stage of life where they have little personalities and quirks and stuff.”
“I suppose I can understand that.”
“No you don’t.”
“Eh?” He asked, tilting his head. “Yes I do!”
Lumine rolled her eyes and waved one of the waiters over to take her food away, discarding her napkin. “You practically radiate big brother energy, you big goof. But the minute there is trouble, you don’t hesitate to turn into dad.”
“Ha!” He laughed, letting the waiter take his half-finished meal as well. “I have a dad voice?”
For the first time since the tantrum, a hint of a smile ghosted his lover’s lips. “You do,” She hummed, then stood and left him at the table. He quickly hurried after her. “It’s deep and very scary.”
“Scary, huh?” He asked, tangling their fingers back together, always yearning to be touching in some way. He’d gotten quite used to being addicted to her presence in the two years of their relationship, through the trauma of a war and the celebrations and heartbreak that followed. “Is that why you’re blushing?”
The bloom of color on her cheeks only deepened. “Shut up.”
Another bout of chuckles rippled through his chest. He pulled her closer to him, intoxicated by her sweet wildflower perfume. “To be fair, I grew up surrounded by younger kids. I got very used to ordering them around.”
“Exactly.”
“But having siblings isn’t what makes a good parent.”
“...What?”
Childe yanked her to a stop as they reached the overlook, savoring the cool evening summer air. Sakura blossoms fell from the trees surrounding them, covering the ground like a thick carpet. In the distance, lights of another festival dotted the Byakko plains– probably another celebration for those who returned from the war… and a memorial for those that didn’t.
He took both of her hands in his, kissing her knuckles slowly and humming as his mouth brushed against the calluses of an experienced swordswoman “You, Lumine Viatrix,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. His lover trembled, her pouty lips slightly parted, “would be a great mother. You care deeply for other people, you’re insanely protective, and you understand the importance of maintaining children’s dreams.”
It took her a minute to process her words, but when she did, she wrapped her arms around his chest and gave a strong squeeze. Childe smirked, cradling her to him. “What if I traumatize them?” She asked, not looking up.
Memories of his parents and their failures came to mind. As a child, he thought them perfect, his father his idol, his mother his rock. Then after his great fall, he’d come back jaded and powerful, seeing faults a child would have never noticed. Once his father cast him out and his mother did nothing to stop him, for fear of Childe’s new found strength and abilities, he’d stopped seeing them as the picturesque family they used to be.
That didn’t mean he loved them any less.
“You probably will,” He whispered, kissing the crown on her head. Lumine flinched, but didn’t stop hugging his chest. “But, since you’re already worrying about being a good mom, even without having any kids, I think you’re ahead of the curve.”
They stood without moving for so long, he wondered if she’d even heard what he said. Then, when he opened his mouth to repeat himself, her shoulders finally dropped. “Thank you.”
Childe smiled, tilting her chin up to kiss her softly. After all, through the bloodshed and death and destruction, they’d earned moments as gentle as this. He purred as he pulled away, grinning against her mouth. “Now about that baby-making…”
She groaned and pushed his face away, stomping off down the beaten path towards their hotel. He couldn’t help but laugh, not caring that he’d ruined the sweet mood if it meant making her smile again.
***
The letter from Snezhnaya came dusted in lavender perfume and decorated in pale pink pressed flowers. Childe had thought it from his mother, but Lumine had noticed the handwriting was more similar to his sister’s. She was right, as usual
Nevertheless, the announcement of a new baby girl joining the Alekseev family was always a welcome notice. They’d have to write back their congratulations– and an announcement of their own.
***
“Ajax Alekseev!” Natasha shouted, her voice bouncing off the hard wooden walls in the tiny a-frame cabin as her lover chased the younger kids up the stairs. It was almost louder than the roar of icy wind shaking the walls, but unlike Lumine, the native Snezhnayans didn’t bat an eye. “Do not rile those children up before dinner!
“Who’s Ajax?” He cried out, not bothering to look over his shoulder. “I only know Mister Cyclops!”
Lumine only laughed from her place beside her future mother-in-law in the kitchen, helping peel the potatoes for the holiday feast. She wondered if Ajax even listened to his mother anymore, seeing as it was his Harbinger fund that supported the family during the harshest winters. She shook her head and went back to scrubbing the dirt from the potato skin, ignoring the weight on her left hand.
Every once in a while, the massive aquamarine ring on her finger would catch in the warm lamplight, creating a kaleidoscope of colors on the ceiling. Sometimes she still didn’t believe she’d really said yes to his proposal, and yet nothing had ever made more sense. Even when they told his family, no one had seemed surprised; in fact, many had joked they thought they were already secretly married and just hid the ring to save Natasha’s feelings at missing her favorite son’s wedding.
He’d managed to keep the proposal very secret the entire time, much to her surprise. She supposed she was more focused on her brother. Aether had come to visit in Liyue for Lantern Rite, surrounding himself with a plethora of people for the first time in years. It helped that Albedo came with him, the alchemist encouraging him forward with every question and answer. Lumine suspected it wouldn’t be much longer before the two of them eloped.
At some point, Ajax had asked her twin brother for her hand in marriage. Then, when all the lanterns filled the sky, he softly explained his wish to her– that she would do the honor of marrying him.
At first, she thought it was a terrible joke and said no.
But when she spotted the genuine confusion, heartache, and desperation in his dull blue eyes, she quickly took it back, apologizing for ruining the most perfect moment ever.
Now, he loved to tell that part whenever someone asked about their engagement. She always scoffed and told whoever was listening he wasn’t usually that serious about things like marriage and kids and whatnot.
“Honestly, that boy,” Natasha scoffed, shaking her head. “I swear, he doesn’t know when to stop.”
Lumine hummed, handing the cleaned and peeled potatoes over, then leaning on the countertop. “That’s just part of who he is.”
“Sometimes I think it's a miracle you agreed to marry him.”
“Me too,” She mumbled, adjusting the ring on her finger again. A pause, then they both laughed, shaking their heads at the absurdity that was her future husband. Husband. The word still felt so foreign in her mind. “Seriously, though. You get used to his antics after a while.”
Natasha dumped the potatoes into a pot of boiling water on the gas stove, then handed her a few dishes to wash. Lumine easily took them, eager for a task. These days, she felt so useless just sitting around and waiting for a commission. Part of the quiet, peaceful life she never thought she’d be allowed to have. “So, are you all settled into your new apartment?”
“Almost. Liyue is nice.” And as the place they first met, it held a special place in her heart. “It’s closer to the bank and he’s happy there.”
“What about you?”
“Oh, I’ll always miss Mondstadt.” Plus, Aether was in the City of Freedom, and it almost felt wrong moving away from him when she’d fought for years to get him back. “But it’s not a long journey. And boat fares are cheap in Liyue, so we can travel anywhere we want to go at the drop of a hat.”
Her future mother-in-law clicked her tongue, shaking her head. “You two, always traveling. One of these days, you ought to settle down and–”
“Ooooohhhhh, I’ve been defeated!” Ajax’s shriek from above the stairs made both of them jump, as did his dramatic slide down the handle rail. He groaned and limped towards the couch, flopping onto the loveseat like a defeated ruin guard. Lumine let a nervous giggle escape her, thankful for his interruption for the awkward conversation she knew Natasha was inching towards.
Before her the older woman could pick up the idle chat about children again, the door opened, snow flurries surging through the opening. In walked Ajax’s older sister, her russet-colored hair damp from the moisture. Lumine’s stomach flipped when she spotted a pale pink and yellow quilt wrapped around the bundle in her arms, wiping her hands on her apron.
“Sorry we’re late!” Anya managed, tugging off a deep purple scarf and hanging it by the fireplace. “The storm is already getting bad.”
As if to accentuate her statement, another groan of wind slammed into the side of the walls. “That’s okay,” Natasha said, hurrying over to meet her eldest daughter. “It’ll make for a cozy Christmas.”
Lumine wandered over to her fiance right as the other nieces and nephews sprinted down their stairs after a thirteen-year-old Teucer. They nearly bowled Anya and the baby over, her yelp of surprise catching everyone off guard. Natasha whirled around to glare at her third son currently taking up the whole couch. “Ajax.”
“On it.” He sat up in a flash, his deep auburn brow furrowed. “Hey! Not when the baby is around!”
“Yes Uncle Ajax!” They called out, sheepish in their apologies as they hurried back upstairs.
Her lover waited until the last one had disappeared back up the stairwell then flopped back into the couch. Lumine smiled, running her fingers through his copper hair. “Did they wear you out?” She hummed, pleased to see the tension in his shoulders finally relax under her touch.
He grunted.“Once upon a time, there was a very scary and strong Harbinger who never got tired. Then he turned 27 and all that energy died.”
Lumine rolled her eyes. He’d fought in countless battles and led armies in the war efforts. He’d earned his fair share of rest. “You’re cute,” She whispered, leaning down to kiss his strong, straight nose.
That dangerous, wicked smile crept across his face again. Even still, as they prepared to tie themselves together for the rest of their lives, her heart skipped a beat. “I try.”
Somewhere upstairs, glass shattered. Lumine and Ajax both flinched at the hollow silence that followed, no doubt the handful of children frozen in place trying to figure out if it had been that loud. Natasha whirled around again, her nostrils flaring in frustration towards the one who’d riled the kids up.
With a groan, Ajax pulled himself off the couch, his hair sticking up in every direction. He let out a tired sigh, then hardened his features. “What did I just say?!” He shouted, skipping every second step to go hunt down the perpetrators, remnants of the mask of Tartaglia making a rare appearance.
“He really does it to himself,” Natasha grumbled, as if trying to justify making her third son discipline the younger children— especially when their own fathers were too busy chopping down the Christmas tree with Ajax’s father.
“I don’t think he can help it,” Lumine smirked, heading back to the kitchen with the others, pointedly ignoring Anya bouncing the bundle of cuteness in her hands. If she stared, her future sister-in-law might ask if she wanted to hold her, and Lumine wasn’t sure she could properly say no way, not without offending her.
Thankfully, Anya seemed more intent to soothe her first child, bouncing the baby back and forth as the women talked. Eventually, it became a waiting game for the others to return and for dinner to finish slow broiling on the warm stove. They asked questions about the future wedding Lumine hadn’t even attempted to plan– she was still trying to convince Ajax to let them elope at the Golden House because it would be funny– and wanted to know more about how Aether was doing in his recovery.
The sun had started setting on the Snezhnayan wilderness around them when the baby first made a noise, whimpering softly. Anya immediately jumped into action, so easy-going when it came to being a mother. After a minute, though, she let out a string of curses in a foreign language. “Having her has made me so scatterbrained. I think I left her bottle at home,” She grumbled. “Can I leave her here and go grab it?”
“Of course dear,” Natasha hummed, kneading the dough for another loaf of bread in flour. “Take Anton with you since it’s getting dark.”
Anya gave a quick nod, then started walking towards the door. Then she froze, as if remembering she still had the baby in her arms. Lumine’s stomach flipped as deep blue eyes found her, so different from Ajax’s dull color. “Here, Lumine, can you hold her for just a second?”
Her stomach flipped again. “Oh, uh—”
“I’ll only be gone for ten minutes,” Anya explained, hurrying back over and offering the baby like it was some precious package. “She won’t even wake up!”
Lumine opened her mouth to spout some excuse as to why she– in no way– should hold the baby, but Anya was just as insistent as her younger brother. She slipped the baby into Lumine’s arms in one second. Then she turned on her heel and called for Anton to come with her, disappearing into the icy snow squall before Lumine could even understand what had just happened.
She stood frozen in place, too afraid to move as thousands of thoughts crossed her mind all in the span of a few seconds. What if the infant woke up? What if she started crying? What if Lumine dropped her? Oh gods, she’d probably be kicked out of the family in an instant and Childe would want the ring back and the boxes she had just finished unpacking would have to be repacked and she’d have to find a place in Mondstadt with everyone asking a billion questions as to why she and Ajax called off the engagement and–
As if sensing her internal stress, the baby in her arms started to squirm and whimper, kicking her chubby little legs through the quilt. Lumine flinched, her attention returning back to the infant in her arms. The little girl’s adorable button nose scrunched and squirmed, her small tuft of red hair burning in the warm light. Her face grew more red by the second, and Lumine’s heart fell into the pits of her stomach as the first loud wail pierced the room.
Panic shot through her like a blast of Electro energy, memories of fighting far stronger enemies flickering in her mind. How could she, Teyvat’s savior, be bested by the wails of such a pitiful infant?
“Archons, kochana,” Ajax’s deep voice dragged her out of her spiraling thoughts the same way he rescued her from her nightmares of the war. She swallowed hard, blinking up at him when he returned to her side. “Here, give her to me.”
When she still didn’t move, he easily scooped the infant into his arms, cradling her against his firm chest. The baby let out another single wail, but quickly soothed as he bounced her, a master at handling little ones. A gentle smile crossed his face, offering the baby one of his long fingers. She easily latched on, her tiny fist barely able to wrap around it.
Lumine watched in silence, the walls of fear crumbling. She’d known him in every way possible; a tactful leader of the Tsaritsa’s forces, the chaotic and brutal killer who took no prisoners, the light-hearted and annoying and silly persona of Childe, and the lover who managed to make her gasp with pleasure and cry with relief all in one simple moment. Now, she realized, she could see him in another light, her heart lurching as she imagined him in the role of father, whispering sweet nothings to a daughter he would spoil to the true moon and back.
If only she could get over her fear of being a mom.
“You hold her so…”
Ajax lifted his head, a glimmer in his dull blue eyes. “Yeah?”
“It’s unfair,” Lumine grumbled, taking a hesitant step closer. “She likes you.”
“I’m pretty sure it's just because I’m warm,” He teased, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “Have you never held a baby before?”
“Not one this tiny.”
“Wanna try again?”
“No,” She quickly said, ignoring the way his auburn brow pinched at how fast she’d spoken. She glanced towards the hearth like it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Besides, you’re a natural.”
After a moment, Ajax hummed. “Having younger siblings to practice on really helps,” He explained, back to bouncing the baby whenever she whimpered from what Lumine could only suspect was hunger. “I only dropped Tonia like, four times.”
“What?!” Tonia shrieked as she came downstairs, sending the rest of the adults into a fit of laughter.
Before long, the others returned, hauling in a great evergreen tree, the pines still dripping remnants of snow. When Anya made it back, she offered to take her daughter from Ajax, but he simply took the bottle from his elder sister and went back to feeding the little girl. Natasha softly teased he wouldn’t let go of the baby until it was time to put the rest of the kids to bed, a statement that turned out to be far too true.
Watching him hold the baby did nothing to her conflicted thoughts. Archons, he looked perfect with a little one in his arms, so easy-going and in tune with everything the infant needed before she even realized she needed it. Lumine had never seen him so intently focused on another person other than her, not that she minded. It enlightened her to all sorts of possibilities, and sometimes she swore she could feel a maternal tug on the back of her mind.
But every time she tried to follow that train of thought, panic returned.
Eventually, Ajax did hand his niece over to her mother to help scoop his brothers’ children up, carting them upstairs to get ready for bed. Natasha waved her off to go with him, so Lumine trailed after her lover, never far in her steps. The youngest kids fell asleep easily, worn out from playing with their favorite uncle. But the older kids eagerly wanted to know more about one of Snezhnaya’s heroes.
“Can we do one more story?” One of the boys asked, tugging a thick quilt up to his nose.
“You’ve already heard all my stories,” Ajax tried. Lumine couldn’t help but snort at how tired he sounded. 27 was such a hard year for her Harbinger.
Then a pair of crystal blue eyes found her where she leaned against the door frame, wide and pleading. “What about a story from Lumine?”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought that a possibility; when they were here, she wasn’t the main character of the world’s story. “You want to know one of mine?”
“We like the really dramatic ones!”
Of course they did. She glanced at her lover, finding a lighthouse in the unsteady seas. So, she took the leap, slowly stepping into the bedroom, never straying too far from Ajax in case she needed his story-telling expertise. “Well, has your uncle ever told you about the time I fought a dragon?”
The children gasped, their mouths dropping in disbelief, leaning forward to hear all about it. So she jumped into it, sparing no detail about Dvalin and the Abyss Mages and how the Anemo Archon and a bunch of her friends risked their lives to help her.
At some points, her voice grew heavy, the knot in her throat making it hard to breathe. The memories of those friends stang, especially when she could only recount the stories of their adventures together at their graves. A warm hand slid up her spine whenever she got lost in thought, and Ajax would easily fill in the blanks wherever she faltered. Still, he never once finished the story; she suspected that’s because he wanted to hear it, too.
When she finished, she let out a shaky breath, wiping away a tear before it could fall down her face. “Alright, no more stories,” Her lover said, turning the lights off in the children’s room. His hand never left the base of her spine, a comfort in the cold Snezhnayan winter, in the ice of her memories. “Now go to bed or I’m selling your toys.”
The boys shrieked in horror, immediately burying themselves under the heavy quilts. Lumine smiled at their innocence, despite the ache in her chest. Ajax said nothing as they walked down the long hallway towards his old bedroom, not that there was anything to say that could make the pain stop.
Suddenly, her feet were swept out from underneath her, a not-so quiet shriek echoing down the hall. “What are you–” She tried, but he cut her off with a barrage of kisses all over her face. The sadness faded from his distraction, her pain replaced by little giggles. The volley of kisses didn’t stop until they reached his bedroom, the door closing with a loud click.
He flopped her down onto the bed with a groan, his heavy body covering every inch of hers. “Get off of me, you’re heavy!” Lumine grunted, pushing his face. When he didn’t move, she huffed in annoyance. “Ajax.”
“That’s not what you usually say.”
Gods above! “We are not doing it in your childhood bedroom,” She hissed, squirming to get out from underneath him.
He finally lifted his head from its place on her chest, a toothy grin spreading across his cheeks. “A shame.” Then he exhaled, and she swore he somehow got heavier with the move. “Goodnight.”
“Get off!”
“Soooo tired. Those kids really wore me out.”
Something in her softened with the statement. She sighed quietly, back to running her fingers through his mess of red hair. The aquamarine gemstone on her ring finger glimmered in the orange lamplight, once again creating a constellation of brilliant, multicolor patterns on the ceiling. “You’re so good with them.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You really know what you’re doing.”
Ajax finally lifted his head, but didn’t bother moving from on top of her. “Sometimes I think I do. Then they do something completely wild to catch me off guard.”
Well, he’d always loved a challenge. “Really?” She asked, running a finger down his strong, straight nose, then pressing it to his thin lips.
He kissed her finger, then grabbed her wrist and slowly started downwards. Everywhere his mouth touched seared her like a brand. For a moment, she forgot the topic at hand. “Yeah,” He finally said, his lips pressed against her pulse. “That’s one of the best parts, though– playing along, improvising as you go. It’s something new every day. I love it.”
Somehow, she didn’t doubt that at all.
***
Their wedding was a simple affair, despite the lavish party everyone seemed to have expected. Aether walked her down the aisle at Mondstadt’s cathedral, his hands shaking until he returned to his own husband’s side. Ajax’s declaration of love and his vow to protect her for all of their life made her ugly cry. The friends she still had left alive from after the war sobbed through the ceremony.
The night would have been perfect– and still was, in many, many ways– if not for the immediate questions. She couldn’t remember who it was, only their words, asking when they would start baby-making.
Much to her relief, Ajax steered the conversation away and Mona dumped wine all over the woman’s cream colored dress.
***
“Lumine, you have to tell me what I did wrong– I can’t read your brain!”
His wife whirled around to glare at him, her scowl more prominent than he’d seen in years now. Perhaps he hadn’t seen it since the war, her outrage rippling off her like rogue waves lashing at the boats in Liyue Harbor. “What’s wrong?!” She snarled, her voice bouncing off the walls in the empty stairwell. “It was the comment you made at dinner!”
Childe blinked in confusion, stuck in place as she skipped step after step to get away from him, hurrying up to their apartment. After a minute, he came to, racing to meet her. “What?”
“About me not being ready to have kids!”
“You aren’t ready to have kids,” He said, confused as to why this was even an argument. Lumine’s scowl only deepened, staying silent until she unlocked and opened their door, nearly slamming it closed on him. He grit his teeth, storming in after her. “Am I wrong?!”
“No– but we aren’t ready to have kids.” She snapped, curling her fists. “We are a team, and yet, with that one single comment, you made it solely my problem!”
“How?!”
“You implied you’re ready and I’m not!”
“I am ready!” He shouted, dropping the keys on the tiny dining room table, not caring what their neighbors thought of their screaming match. They’d heard far worse before– right? “I’ve been ready to start a family with you for seven years now!”
“Exactly!”
She ripped off her scarf and threw it on the couch as he once again stared blankly ahead. How did this keep happening? “I’m confused,” He admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Why am I in trouble?”
Her boots clattered against the wooden floor with a loud thump as she shrieked in frustration. “Because you want a family!”
“You’ve always known that!”
“And you’re pressuring me to make up my mind!”
“I am not.” He followed her when she walked into the bedroom, biting his bottom lip hard to avoid a stupid comment as she stripped off her cream-colored top.
A good thing, too, as Lumine immediately whirled around, huffing in frustration. “Yes you are! You and everyone else are waiting for me to pop out a bunch of kids already!”
“But I–” He shook his head fiercely, grabbing her arms to keep her steady, looking only at him. One deep breath stabilized him as he dropped his voice, hoping she could hear the softness in his tone. “I’m not saying let’s have a baby. I’m just letting you know I’m ready.”
Her nostrils flared. “And I’m not!”
“Exactly!”
“See?!” She snapped, ripping herself out of his grasp and storming into the bathroom, shimmying out of her soft blue skirt as she did. “This is so predictable.”
Archons above. What the fuck was she on about? “I still don’t understand why you’re upset.”
Lumine poked her head out from around the corner, letting out a deep sigh tinged with frustration. “Because, Ajax. Maybe I’ll never be ready. Maybe every time I get my period, I’m relieved that I’m not pregnant! Maybe I decided I don’t want them!”
It was as if he’d been shot with one of his Hydro arrows, piercing his chest. Suddenly, his legs didn’t feel strong enough to hold him up. “...What?” He managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.
His wife slowly straightened, raising her chin in an act of defiance. “Maybe I don’t want kids.”
Another arrow, nailing the bullseye target that was his heart. “...Did you decide this without me?”
She huffed, hurriedly removing the feathers from her hair. “It’s my body–”
“I know!” He interrupted, then flinched from the anger, hurt, betrayal oozing in his voice. He closed his eyes and counted to ten, not wanting to say something stupid in a fit of frustration. “I know. But as a team–”
“Well, lately, we haven’t felt like a team. Lately it’s felt like Ajax and the wife he hasn’t knocked up yet. I mean– you don’t even stop their questions anymore! I thought you wanted to travel. I thought you wanted adventures!”
“Having a kid could be an adventure–”
“Dammit, Childe!” She snarled, stomping her foot hard on the wooden floors, the ground shaking from the impact. His jaw fell; she hadn’t called him that nickname in years. “Listen to me! I’m screaming ‘I don’t want kids with you’ in common tongue! Is that making it into your thick skull?!”
The final arrow cut deep enough to reach his soul.
He shook his head slowly, unable to stop the racing thoughts. He’d known she was hesitant to have children, but never before had she so plainly said there was a future without them in their lives. The world he’d imagined began to crumble around him, the dreams of teaching his own children how to hold weapons, how to protect themselves, how to thrive in peacetime shattering like broken glass. He wouldn’t get to hold his newborn, wouldn’t get to fix the mistakes his parents made, wouldn’t get to show them the wild world that was Teyvat.
“I… need some air.”
“What?” Lumine’s amber eyes widened as he turned on his heel, barely trusting his legs to carry him out into the hallway. “Where are you going?”
“I just–” He couldn’t even think straight, too focused on moving forward to finish his sentence.
“Ajax. Wait. Don’t–”
The front door closed behind him before he could hear the rest of her sentence. He sucked in a desperate breath, but it didn’t feel like enough to fill his aching lungs. Frustrated tears pinpricked the corners of his eyes, but he refused to let them fall; after all, there are no tears in Snezhnaya. He hissed in disbelief, in defeat, as he sank to his knees.
For once, he wasn’t sure of a path forward.
That didn’t last long, though. There was only one road he’d chosen to walk the minute he’d devoted himself to her all those years ago.
Not even a minute passed when he opened the door again, walking back into the bedroom. Lumine had sunk onto the bed, barely covered in her undergarments. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks– his fault, he knew– and when she glanced up, her eyes widened again at the sight of him.
In one swift move, Ajax bent the knee to the only woman he’d ever loved. His path forward, his true north, his starlight on a moonless night.
“Ajax–”
“We don’t need kids,” He said softly, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her lap. “We don’t. You are the only family I ever need.”
“But–”
“No buts,” He whispered firmly, glancing up at her. Her brows pinched as she tried to process his words, her breath shaking with deep sobs. “It’ll be just you and me. We’ll go on adventures. We’ll face dragons. We’ll do whatever so long as we’re together. I just– I don’t want to lose you.”
Another shattered sob escaped her lips as she sank off the bed and onto the ground beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I don’t want to lose you either.”
***
Their adventures these days were different from the ones they had before the war, when they were on opposite sides and dancing around the possibility of being more. They visited the volcanoes of Natlan, climbing to the icy peaks just to prove they could. They explored the underwater reefs in Fontaine, eager to see tropical fish of all different colors, even spending some time on the islands off the coast.
Aether started a family. Lumine had never seen her brother so happy surrounded by his children, appreciating them as if they were his own blood.
They built a house on the border of Mondstadt and Liyue, giving them a chance to be close to the things they loved about both.
They were happy.
***
Weinlesefest always brought an air of excitement to the City of Freedom, and even though the longing for her lost friends remained across every nation she went to, she slowly found herself healing from their sacrifices.
Across the busy field, Aether’s kids chased her husband, desperately trying to take down the evil Fatui Harbinger their father painted them out to be. Lumine laughed, watching them easily coordinate and throw themselves around his legs, pulling him to a sudden stop. They’d make great warriors one day– not that they had any need to fight.
“Is it weird seeing your brother with all these kids?” Aether asked, spinning the straw of his apple cider.
“Not at all,” She hummed, sipping her own drink. Her brother had changed so much in the years he’d spent healing; he no longer wore his hair in a tight braid, instead choosing something much looser and more relaxed, plus he’d lost years of muscle mass but gained a deep tan from spending every day in the sun. And yet, in some ways, he hadn’t changed at all. “You always wanted a big family.”
The hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “That’s true. But I was so different when I came back. Not all there.”
She knew the feeling. “I don’t think any of us who fought in the war against the heavens came back all together.”
“Is that why you and Childe decided not to have kids?”
Lumine stared into the amber liquid of her drink. Questions about children no longer made her flinch in concern. She supposed that was healing, too. “One of the reasons, I suppose. Though I’m pretty sure if I asked him for a baby right now, he’d pounce me.”
Aether’s nose scrunched. “I really didn’t need to know that.”
“Just saying.”
Another bout of laughter rang up above a different bard’s lazy lyre strumming. Lumine hummed, taking a deep breath to appreciate the here and now, to leave the pain of the past on that bloodied battlefield instead of at the festival celebrating the joy of autumn.
“This is my happy ending, you know.”
She glanced at her twin brother, one brow raised. “What do you mean?”
Aether hummed, his eyes only on the four adopted children currently tickling her husband into submission. He reached over and tapped her hand gently, then gave a good squeeze. “I’m surrounded by the people I care for most, enjoying life in a peaceful world. I get to see my kids grow up without the stresses we were under.”
“I suppose I never thought of it that way.” Mostly because she still wasn’t sure she knew how to live in a Teyvat that wasn’t always fighting. Sometimes she still expected to wake up from a bad nightmare, right after the Golden House fight all those years ago.
Aether’s identical amber gaze found hers. “You know none of it would be possible without you, right?”
Lumine’s stomach flipped, and she couldn’t stop from shifting nervously in her seat. When she didn’t have an answer– not that she was sure there was an answer to give– she found her husband like a lifeline to reality. The minute he sensed her gaze, those deep blue eyes found her. So many unspoken words hung between them; his silent question of is she alright?, her silent response of fine. Sad. Nostalgic.
“As much as he aggravates me,” Aether interrupted their silent conversation, his knuckles stark white from clenching his glass, “I appreciate how much he loves you.”
She smirked. “I know.”
“He’d give you the whole world.”
“He already has.”
“Is that your happy ending, then?” Aether asked, clutching her hand again. “A long life with Ajax?”
“That’s the plan.”
“If you like what you have, then don’t change it.” Sometimes her brother always knew just what to say. It was genuine conversations like this that made the sacrifices she made all the worth it. “Still, I admit, it surprises me that you don’t want them.”
She blinked in surprise. “What? Why?”
“Because you’d be an incredible mom.”
A dark laugh escaped her before she could stop it, burying her face in her drink. “I don’t think so.”
“Lumi. You saved the world.” Aether turned to face her so she couldn’t turn away from this conversation, and for once, she had no clue what to expect out of her twin’s mouth. Once upon a time, she’d been able to understand every thought in his brain as if she’d thought it herself. “You gave up your immortality and sacrificed so much for the good of children who weren’t even born yet. What’s so different about being a mom?”
“A lot.” Sacrificing parts of herself to save the world she’d come to know as home was easy. Sacrificing parts of herself to do something she didn’t know if she’d be any good at felt… scary. Like a challenge she didn’t know how to face.
Aether hummed, patting her hand. “Well, I just want you to be as happy as I am. And if that means no babies, then you already make one hell of an aunt.”
***
Ajax never pressured Lumine to have children after their fight. He knew exactly how to change the topic whenever they traveled to Snezhnaya for Christmas.
Traveling didn’t stop, either. It felt like the old days, before the war, before the stars had fallen and her friends had perished. They spent months moving from place to place, always eager to see the next big thing. They ate their way through Sumeru’s new restaurants and trekked through archeological remnants of Khanrei’ah. They even dove deep into the ancient society in Enkanomiya, fighting their way through the remaining enemies there not freed from Celestia’s wrath.
Then one day, something in her snapped into place. A realization, the reason she was scared to have children.
She had no desire to jump right into having babies, nor was she still certain she’d make a good mother. But the murky path slowly became clearer as time passed.
Once upon a time, she’d told a cute Fatui Harbinger she’d just started dating that she was more focused on the here and now, rather than all the what ifs of the future. Those what ifs had finally arrived, the future she wasn’t sure she’d ever been promised. After all, so many had died for their cause, for the chance to be happy and free from the fake world Celestia had created.
It was as if she’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop and ruin her happiness, as if she would never get the happy ending the main character was usually promised at the end of their story. And yet here it was, traveling with the man she loved more than life itself, experiencing the world as a mortal for the first time all over again, feeling herself grow and age and mature the same way her husband had been doing all these years.
And suddenly, she wasn’t afraid to try. Suddenly, she wasn’t afraid to tackle the next great adventure.
***
The great oak tree at Windrise still towered high, but complicated vines grew off the ancient remnants of the Barbatos statue nestled into its roots. No one had bothered to clean it in the ten years since Celestia had fallen, the need for Archons and heavenly rulers vanishing the minute the sky fell.
The soft breeze blowing across the open plains sang through the leaves, the grass rippling like waves off the Falcon Coast. Every once in a while, he would catch the strong scent of fresh spring dirt after a rainstorm (and the subtler smell of apples), and if he listened closely, he swore he could hear the gentle strumming of a lyre, the song delicate and as sweet as this moment.
Ajax blinked in surprise as his lovely little wife crawled into his lap, her hands sliding up his chest. “Oh my,” He purred, his grin wicked at the sight. “What did I do to deserve this?”
A nervous smile spread across Lumine’s face, gripping his scarlet scarf tightly. “You were patient.”
“I am notoriously impatient, my love,” He said, leaning in to kiss her jaw. She pulled away just before his mouth grazed her soft cheek, an undignified whine slipping past his lips. “Tell me, since I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“No, you wouldn’t,” She whispered, biting her bottom lip. Ajax frowned, tilting his head. It had been a while since she’d been this anxious. “So… don’t freak out when I tell you this, okay?”
“Uh… okay.”
She slowly took a breath, her knuckles stark white from clutching his collar. The wind rustled above, then silenced, as if it, too, was waiting to hear what his wife had to say.
Then she steeled herself, pressing her forehead to his. “...You ever think about having kids?”
All Ajax could do was smile.