Work Text:
Amber stands at the front gates of Mondstadt.
The sun has long set, the last of its fading rays vanishing sleepily beneath the dark blanket of the horizon. On any other day, Amber would have sat atop one of the windmill towers and enjoyed the last of the brilliant colours in the sky, but today, she was in no mood to enjoy such beauty.
Instead, she stands anxiously at the front gates. The path leading up to the city is lit dimly by a few lampposts, meanwhile, the city behind her shines brilliantly with all the liveliness of her citizens. Amber toes the threshold to the city, not quite daring to set foot outside of the gates but not entirely wanting to remain in the city either.
Because if she stepped outside of the city, it would make her fears all too real — she would no longer be just waiting but searching and she doesn’t think she can handle that worry.
Desperately, she watches the shore across the bridge for any signs — a familiar head of blonde hair, the telltale white dress, bright golden eyes, even a flying little white fairy creature gremlin thing.
Anything.
Any sign of Lumine.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
Has something happened to Lumine?
The Traveller had been away from Mondstadt for quite some time now. Amber could hardly blame her. She needed to find her brother, who is clearly not in Mondstadt, despite Amber’s best posters and efforts. There were countless other nations that she had to go see, people to meet, and places to look. Amber would have liked to go with her and see some of the sights, eat some of the delicacies, and fight some of her battles.
(Sometimes Lumine looks off into the distance like the weight of the world might crush her into the ground at any moment. It’s not a burden that Amber can take from her, she understands that much. When a loved one goes missing, there’s a pressure to find them and a heavy guilt that wonders if it was your fault that they had left. But if Amber could help her alleviate that in any way, she is more than willing to do it.)
But despite all that, despite all the things on Lumine’s plate, she had promised Amber that she would come back and celebrate Amber’s birthday with her.
That had been months ago.
Still, Amber clung to the promise like someone drowning in an ocean of despair would cling to a lifeline. The other Knights of Favonius and other citizens had been zealous in their efforts to celebrate the birthday of their one and only Outrider.
Amber had been treated to different snacks and meals all day, as well as a large party at the Good Hunter where she could have as much sticky honey roast as she wanted. She had many delectable slices but it just didn’t quite taste the same — perhaps soured by her constant worry about Lumine’s whereabouts. Truthfully, she was grateful for all the effort that the Knights put into planning a birthday party for her but she still couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed.
What if Lumine is in trouble? She often went out on long excursions into dangerous areas in search for her twin as well as in order to help people in need. It wouldn’t be completely out of the box that she had gotten into some kind of trouble and was trapped somewhere, or incapacitated or worse. That fear chills Amber to the bone.
Another thought occurs to her.
What if Lumine forgot?
With all the wonders that Teyvat had to offer, who could blame her?
For some reason, that’s a thought that strikes a deeper fear in Amber’s heart than anything else.
Mondstadt is just one nation and Amber is but one person buried in a bustling city. She had heard of Lumine’s grand exploits in Liyue and Inazuma, saving people and changing lives. Who is Amber to her? They had grown close over the few months that Lumine had been in Mondstadt, looking for her brother but they were never anything else.
Anything more.
Clearly the mysterious traveller that Amber had fallen for (literally) is well liked and wanted in so many other places.
With a long sigh, Amber turns from the gate and begins the long shuffle back from the gate to her Knights of Favonius headquarters. The warm lights of the city feel too bright and stifling. Like the oppressive sun in the middle of the desert. Every step she takes feels like it takes a gargantuan effort.
Amber clings to the back alleyways and shadowed paths instead. Everything feels off, feels wrong.
By the time that she reaches the towering building that she calls home, her spirits are thoroughly down in the dumps.
Every window was darkened, curtains drawn tight. Most other residents of the building had long gone to sleep. Early patrols the next morning forced all the Knights into adopting such a habit.
There’s a single light.
The lamp above the front door so that people could still make their way to the building and knock for assistance even in the latest (or earliest) of hours.
Amber lets herself into the building and makes her way up to her room, carefully avoiding the squeaky floorboards in the hallway so as to not wake anyone else up. Dejectedly, she flops backwards on her bed. Really, she should shower first, change out of the clothes that she’s been wearing all day, but she just doesn’t have the energy for it.
It wouldn’t be completely out of the realm of possibility that Lumine had forgotten, or had been too busy to travel across multiple nations just to attend a silly birthday party.
Who is she to Lumine?
Lumine who was so beautiful and brilliant and strong and brave and — a sharp rap on her window startles her out of her thoughts. She sits up sharply.
There, clinging to the edge of the windowsill is Lumine.
Amber stares, rooted to the spot in shock. Lumine knocks again, this time the sound sends Amber scrambling across the room to open the window. A strong gust of wind makes the curtains and papers on her desk dance but Lumine is there, climbing through the window and onto her desk.
“Surprise!” Lumine exclaims as she hops down from the desk.
It’s almost like Lumine had never left. She still smells faintly like windwheel asters, hot iron from a forge, and the smell of wind carrying news from a distant land. It’s all so familiar, but something… else too. Something different. Lumine is a little different. There’s something in her eyes, maybe it's exhaustion, maybe it’s the weight of all the new things that she’s seen.
“You’re injured!” Amber gasps as she shoves the window closed behind Lumine. The Traveller looks worse for wear, bruised and bloodied. Exhaustion lines her frame like an ill-fitting cloak. She’s carrying a basket in her hands, a white-knuckled grip on the handle.
“Ah, it’s nothing,” Lumine says, waving her hand dismissively.
“It is not nothing!” Amber insists, steering her over to the desk chair and making her sit on it. “Let me patch you up. You’re going to get an infection.”
It’s a good thing she keeps a large field medical kit full stocked under her bed. Before Lumine can even protest, Amber has pulled out the trusty kit and is rifling through all the supplies.
“Amberrrrrrr,” Lumine drawls.
“Lumineeeeee,” Amber replies in kind. “Just let me take care of you first, okay?”
“But it’s your birthday,” Lumine mumbles. “And the gift I made you will get cold.”
From her spot on the floor, Amber can see the little look of shame that crosses Lumine’s face. Her ears are red, reminiscent of a ripe sunsettia.
“Hey,” Amber says softly, reaching up to brush a few strands of stray hairs out of her face. They cling to the thin sheen of sweat on Lumine’s face. Had she run all the way here? And from where? “It’s okay. I want to make sure that you’re okay. I’ll open your gift first, if that makes you feel better.”
“Having to take care of me on your birthday is not a very good birthday,” Lumine grumbles, averting her eyes. She holds out the basket that she’s been carrying to Amber.
“The fact that you are here for me to take care of makes it a very good birthday,” Amber tells her. Still, curiosity gets the best of her and she takes the basket from Lumine. It’s still a little bit warm on the outside, whether by some trick of pyro or simply being held in Lumine’s arms for who knows how long.
The woven lid of the basket comes off easily, and Amber finds that there are a few of what Amber can only describe as sandwiches inside. “What is this?” She asks as she lifts the basket closer so that she can really take in the mouth-watering aroma.
“It’s Mora Meat! It’s a pretty well-known dish in Liyue. I knew you were going to eat a lot of sticky honey roast so I wanted to make you something a little different,” Lumine turns away, more shy than Amber has ever seen her. “You don’t have to eat it if you’re too full.”
“You made this?” Amber is surprised and touched all at once.
She had always known Lumine was pretty good at cooking, but the idea that Lumine had made this especially for her just strikes a chord within her.
“Yeah, but you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. I just didn’t know what else to get you and then I panicked—”
Amber cuts off Lumine’s rambling with a pointed bite of the food. The bun on the outside is still hot and fluffy, perfectly crisp on the outside. The meat filling is tender and juicy and the sauce fills her mouth with a flavour that is familiar and nostalgic at the same time. She’s immediately brought back to warm summer afternoons in a small kitchen. The windows were wide open and the sounds of birds outside the window was accompanied by the sound of meat sizzling in a wok. She was barely tall enough to sit at the table without sitting on a stack of old field reports but her grandfather smiles at her from across the table.
Suddenly she finds herself blinking back tears.
“Amber, are you crying?” Lumine drops to her knees next to her clumsily, throwing an arm around her shoulders. “Listen, if it’s bad, you don’t have to eat it, I won’t be offended.”
“This,” Amber takes another bite of the bun, just to be sure and also because it was very good, “This tastes exactly like the lunches my grandfather used to make for me.”
“Oh.” There’s an inaudible sigh of relief as tension drains out of Lumine’s body. Then she stiffens again, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
Amber shakes her head, “No, no. These are happy tears. Thank you for making these for me.”
“You’re sure that you’re not crying because my cooking is terrible?” Lumine teases.
“You know you’re an excellent cook,” Amber nudges Lumine playfully, and she holds the bun up to Lumine’s mouth, urging her to take a bite for herself. With her free hand she hastily wipes away the few tears that have collected in the corner of her eyes. How embarrassing is it that she would cry over something like this .
“Hey, that’s your present. I can’t just eat it.” Laughing, Lumine ducks out of the way, falling over sideways as Amber persists in her attempts to get Lumine to take a bite. “Ow, ow. Easy on the arms,” Lumine winces as Amber scrambles over her.
“Your injuries! I completely forgot!” Amber practically tosses the Mora Meat back into the basket, pulling Lumine into an upright sitting position. “Let me get you patched up.”
“No! You should eat your food while it's still hot.”
“No! You’re injured! Look, you’ve even reopened that one!” Amber grabs her by the cheeks, holding her so that they have to look each other in the eye so that Lumine can see the concern and genuineness in her eyes. “Listen to me, you’re way more important than tasty food.”
Amber knows her own face is heating up at their close proximity but she doesn’t back down.
“Amberrrrr,” Lumine settles for whining. “The food will get cold. Then all my hard work will not taste as good.”
“I’d let you patch yourself up, but last time you tried to, you ended up getting an infection anyway so I can’t trust you with that track record.” A new thought occurs to her. “Okay, why don’t you feed me while I patch you up?”
“What?”
“Yeah, it’s the best of both worlds. I get to patch you up and I get to eat.”
“I mean, I guess? Is that what you really want?”
“Yeah, it’s still my birthday so you have to,” Amber says teasingly. She doesn’t expect Lumine to immediately follow through, grabbing the half-eaten Mora Meat from the basket and offering it up to her lips.
“Wait!” It takes some fumbling but Amber does manage to pull some antiseptic and gauze from her field kit. “Hold still, this might hurt.”
To her credit, Lumine hardly flinches as Amber begins to work, gently going over every gash, scrape, cut, and bruise. Even with the unbroken skin, she was careful in wiping away the layer of grime on it. Between every wound, Lumine would hold up another bite of food to her lips.
It’s not a perfect system, and on more than one occasion, Amber turns her head the second that Lumine lifts the bite of food up to where her lips were, ending up with sauce dripping down Amber’s cheek. But it’s really enjoyable, Amber giggling as Lumine makes another exaggerated pout when Amber doesn’t take the bite of food.
“So are you going to tell me how you got injured?”
“It’s silly,” Lumine mumbles. She picks at the bun, tearing off little chunks and stuffing it in her mouth. “I lost track of time in the Chasm because you know, you can’t see the sun or anything down there. I uh, was in a rush to get out of the Chasm because I was going to be late for your birthday and uh, may have gotten careless.”
Amber whacks Lumine on the shoulder lightly. “You need to be more careful!”
“I was trying! But the stupid metal snake wouldn’t stay down, and then I was going to be late to your birthday, and I still had to cook.”
“Hang on, hang on. You were injured before you started cooking and you decided to not get treatment?”
“I didn’t want to be totally late for your birthday, okay?” Lumine grumbles.
“Lumine!” Amber chastised. “I rather you be here in one piece okay? Whether or not you’re on time is secondary to that.”
"Okay, I just didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t coming," Lumine looks sufficiently cowed.
“You’re here now.”
“I’m sorry I was away for so long. But coming here, coming back to see you, to you it’s like coming home.”
There isn’t much that Amber can say at this moment, gaping at Lumine as she struggles to find her words.
Fortunately, Lumine presses on, seemingly unaware of Amber’s struggle. "I'm sorry I couldn't get you anything better for your birthday though."
Amber finishes wrapping up the last of her injuries. "Lumine, it's okay. Really. You didn't have to give me anything at all."
"But you deserve so much more!”
Amber is a little taken aback at the force of Lumine's outburst.
"You deserve everything in the world and more. I just wish I could give all of that to you."
The outrider narrows her eyes at Lumine. "I'm not sure I'm following you correctly." She gets up, dusting herself off.
Lumine takes a deep breath, seemingly steeling herself. "Look, you're amazing and talented and so kind and genuine and pretty and I know that I don't have much to offer you."
"You can cook!" Amber laughs, suddenly nervous. Her heart races in her chest, the same way that it always did when she leapt from the highest of cliffs — that split second before her wings snapped open to catch her.
She's falling.
"I can cook," Lumine affirms. "Anything you want, whenever you want."
"Are you offering to be my personal chef?" Her breath hitches in her throat.
"Yes. I mean no. I'll be whatever you want me to be. And I know that I have nothing to offer you. No home to give, no name of my own. But if you want me, you can have me."
Amber purses her lips, thinking hard. Is Lumine saying what she thinks she's saying? "You know, this sounds awfully like a marriage proposal."
Golden eyes widen in realization. "No! That's not what I meant!"
"So you don't want to marry me?" She lets a smile grace her face, just so Lumine understands that she's joking.
"Yes! I mean no! I mean-" Lumine panics, trying valiantly to backtrack and not catching on at all.
"Easy, easy." Amber reaches out to hold Lumine's hand. "I'm just teasing you."
"Oh," the Honourary Knight lets out a breath of relief. "That's good. I mean. I do want to marry you. Eventually."
"Let's start with a first date?" Amber offers, trying her hardest not to sound too hopeful.
"I'd like that," Lumine replies, a small smile blooming on her face. "Tomorrow?”
"Tomorrow," Amber agrees.
Tomorrow is a new day. She's a year older. She has a date. Lumine is here. It's a very happy birthday indeed.