Chapter Text
"Lumine, you're back!" Paimon's high-pitched voice broke the silence as the Traveler stepped into the cozy confines of their Serenitea Pot. The floating companion zipped around her like an overexcited firefly. "Paimon was starting to think you got lost in the wilds of Liyue again!"
Lumine chuckled, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "I’m fine, Paimon. Just a few commissions that took longer than expected. Nothing I couldn’t handle." She dropped her pack by the door and stretched her arms, her shoulders aching from a long day of fighting hilichurls and gathering herbs. "What about you? Did you manage to keep the teapot in one piece while I was gone?"
"Hey! Paimon is totally capable of taking care of things!" the little fairy huffed, crossing her arms. But then her expression softened, and she lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But, uh... you might want to check the guest room. Someone’s been... visiting."
Lumine raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Visiting? Who—?"
Before Paimon could answer, Lumine heard it—a soft, rhythmic breathing coming from the direction of the guest room. It was faint but unmistakable, like the gentle rustle of leaves in a breeze. Without another word, she moved toward the sound, Paimon floating nervously behind her.
The door to the guest room was slightly ajar, and Lumine pushed it open just enough to peer inside. Her breath caught in her throat.
There, curled up on the bed with her horned head resting on a pillow, was Ganyu. The half-qilin secretary of the Liyue Qixing looked almost angelic in her sleep, her lavender hair spilling across the sheets like silk. Her chest rose and fell gently, and a faint smile played on her lips, as if she were dreaming of something sweet. The moonlight streaming through the window bathed her in a soft glow, making her porcelain skin seem almost ethereal.
"Paimon didn’t know what to do," the fairy whispered, tugging on Lumine’s sleeve. "She just showed up earlier and said she needed a place to rest. Paimon didn’t want to bother you while you were out..."
"It’s fine," Lumine murmured, her voice barely audible. She stepped into the room, careful not to make a sound. Ganyu looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, that it felt wrong to disturb her. The sight stirred something in Lumine—a mix of tenderness and something she couldn’t quite name. She’d always admired Ganyu’s diligence and grace, but seeing her like this... it was different.
As she approached the bed, Lumine noticed the slightest shift in Ganyu’s breathing. Her eyelids fluttered, and for a moment, Lumine thought she might wake up. But instead, Ganyu let out a soft sigh and nestled deeper into the pillow, her hand curling around the edge of the blanket.
"Should we leave her alone?" Paimon asked, hovering just behind Lumine.
Lumine hesitated, her gaze lingering on Ganyu’s serene face. "No. Let’s let her sleep. She probably needs it." She turned to leave but paused when she noticed something on the bedside table—a small, neatly folded note. Curious, she picked it up and unfolded it.
Thank you for letting me rest here. The past few days have been... overwhelming.
– Ganyu
Lumine’s heart clenched. She glanced back at Ganyu, who looked so much smaller and more fragile than her usual composed self. The weight of her responsibilities must have finally caught up with her.
"Come on," Lumine whispered to Paimon. "Let’s get some tea ready for when she wakes up."
As they left the room, Lumine couldn’t shake the image of Ganyu from her mind. There was something about seeing someone so strong and dependable in such a vulnerable state that made her feel... protective. And maybe something else, too—something she wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge.
The teapot’s kitchen was warm and inviting, and Lumine busied herself preparing a pot of Ganyu’s favourite blend. Paimon floated nearby, nibbling on a sunsettia but keeping unusually quiet. The silence between them was comfortable but charged with unspoken thoughts.
"Do you think... she’ll stay for a while?" Paimon finally asked, breaking the quiet.
Lumine poured hot water into the teapot, watching the steam rise in lazy curls. "I hope so," she replied softly. "Even if it’s just for tonight."
As the tea steeped, Lumine found herself glancing toward the guest room again. The soft glow of moonlight still spilled from the open door, and the faint sound of Ganyu’s breathing was just audible over the gentle bubbling of the teapot.
She wondered what Ganyu was dreaming about—and if she’d ever get the chance to ask her.