A/N: For Frostwind Star Kaelumi zine! I don’t think I write AUs nearly as much as I should anymore. I really like the mood set up here and the world...there's a lot I wanted to hint at here. I miss Kaeya’s flirting, may we have more scenes with him.
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1.
The One-Eyed Pirate tavern was a small, unassuming place, hidden in the back alleys of Khaenri’ah. Between the poor lighting and smoke-filled air, the interior felt hazy, like a dream forgotten in the morning light. It was easy to see why so many under-the-table deals occurred here, giving the bar the reputation that you could acquire anything there, for the right price.
Lumine hoped it was true.
No, she needed it to be true.
Her palms were sweaty as she sat in a dark corner, angled so she could watch anyone entering the tavern. Through the small window, she spotted her handmaid Paimon fretting nervously as she paced by and forth. She was terrible at keeping watch; Lumine would have to make sure to wrap this up quickly.
Though that all depended on the man across from her. Lumine studied the stranger—it was hard to precisely make out his features; the lighting was too dim. Perhaps he’d picked this corner for that reason. Not that she could blame him; she’d sat down with the same hope. Only his dark blue eye was clearly visible, glittering in the dark with curiosity as he waited for her to speak.
Lumine wet her lips. “Are you the Dagger Knight?”
His brow quirked. “Some do call me that.”
She clenched her jaw, not in the mood for ambiguity. Not now. “Yes or no?”
The man laughed. His dark brown hand wrapped around his jug of ale. “Straight to business, huh? We’re in a tavern.” He raised his mug. “You should at least have a drink before we jump into bed together.”
Not the euphemism she’d have picked. Before she could say anything, the tavern door opened, and Lumine automatically clutched her cloak tightly. Fortunately, the man entering seemed like a regular, loudly greeting the bartender as he took a seat by the bar.
“I don’t have that luxury,” she stated, her words clipped and short.
“Well, if you’re that much in a hurry, I guess you don’t have to buy me dinner.” The man leaned forward, catching the light just enough that she could make out his face properly now. An eyepatch explained the singular blue eye. His dark hair was tied together in a loose braid, his long bangs framing his strong jaw: at least he matched the descriptions she had. Noticing her stare, the man tapped the crest on his eyepatch. “Is that proof enough for you?”
“Yes.” Lumine sat stiffly, her hands clenched on her lap. Squaring her shoulders, she requested, “I need to leave the country.”
“Smuggling?” The Dagger Knight tapped his chin, observing her as he considered her request. “It won’t be cheap. Especially these days.”
These days were precisely why she had to be smuggled. Lumine slipped a hand into her pocket, brushing the cold metal jewellery inside, the only mementos and proof she had of her stolen heritage. “I know. I can pay.”
“In coin?” The Dagger Knight asked, leaning back.
Fencing her jewellery would be hard right now. Some of the pieces were notable enough to be traced back. “I have goods of equivalent value. Otherwise…I can give you cash when we get there.”
The Dagger Knight studied her before nodding. “I can work with that. I’ll need a downpayment, half now, half after.”
It was as good as done. Lumine relaxed slightly, releasing the breath she didn’t know she was holding. “It’ll be for me and one other.”
“The girl fretting outside?” The Dagger Knight laughed when her eyes widened. “Don’t look so surprised—you don’t make it as far and as long as I have by missing these things. Where are we going?”
Anywhere but here. Teyvat was wide, filled with more places than she could count, and yet none of them where were Lumine truly wanted to go. She bit her lip. “Liyue.”
“Odd choice.” The Dagger Knight raised a brow. “I thought you’d want to go further.”
She stilled. “Why?”
Before she could press him, the tavern door opened once more. This time, armour clanked as a soldier stepped in, a wanted poster tight in his hand. Lumine tugged her hood around her tighter, hiding her blonde hair.
“Don’t look so nervous.” The Dagger Knight covered her hand with his as he purred, “You’ll give yourself away, princess.”
He knew. He knew. Lumine started, pulling back, but his grip was like a vise. “What do you want?” she hissed, panicked as she glanced at the soldier. Fortunately, he hadn’t noticed yet.
Smirking, the Dagger Knight leaned closer, his other hand drawing her forward. For a second, she was afraid he’d kiss her, but he glided past until his lips found her ear. “I’ll require danger pay for such precious cargo.”
Lumine resisted the urge to shiver. Or to punch him. Gritting her teeth, she nodded. “Fine, but you will make sure we arrive safely.”
As the soldier left the bar, the Dagger Knight pulled back with an easy smile. “Of course. If I didn’t do that much, I’d be out of a job.”
-x-
Lumine had known the castle’s passageways and corridors since she was a child, had memorized them as she’d played tag and hide and seek with her brother. However, she’d never known them as she knew them now: in the darkness of a moonless night, soldiers shouting as they gave chase, her heart thrumming in her ears as she ran for her life. Aether and Paimon by her side, their eyes just as wild as hers.
Somewhere behind them, Dainsleif was doing his best to hold off the usurpers, but he was outnumbered. They were outnumbered. How did they even end up like this? Their allies, traitors. Their kingdom, stolen. Their lives—on this night, even that might be lost.
Aether stopped next to a tapestry. Pulling it up, he revealed a small wooden door, the entrance to a secret passageway. “We can’t stay here.”
“But you’re the next king!” Paimon whisper-shouted, torn between fear and anger.
Lumine hunched over as she caught her breath. “There’s no other choice,” she panted. “They’ll kill us.”
They might have already killed Dainsleif was left unsaid, though they all thought the same thing.
“B-but…” Paimon bit her lip, tears streaming down her cheeks as she reluctantly nodded. She clutched the bag they’d managed to pack tightly. “Ok.”
Aether yanked open the door, gesturing for Paimon to go through first. Nearby, the shouts grew louder, thunderous footsteps racing down the stone floors. Lumine glanced over her shoulder, taking one last look at her home before slipping in after. The secret passageway was a step lower and she stumbled.
“Khaenri’ah isn’t safe,” Aether said quickly. “Hide who you are. Sell your jewels slowly, one at a time.”
A sense of dread filled Lumine as she turned around. “Aether?”
“Don’t turn back, not even when you’re out of Khaenri’ah.” Aether smiled wanly. “I’ll stall for as long as I can.”
“Aether! No!” Lumine ran forward but Aether had already closed the door. She banged it. “Don’t do this!”
The shouting grew louder. Lumine could barely hear Aether’s muffled response, “I love you. Run.”
-x-
Lumine woke up in a cold sweat. An unfamiliar inn room greeted her; unlike that night, a sliver of moonlight shone through the windows, lighting everything in a silvery glow. She ran a hand through her sweaty locks as she sat up and glanced outside—the Khaenri’ah through the glass looked foreign. Felt foreign. Every alley had posters of her, claiming she was missing, that she was kidnapped, that they just wanted to find the lost princess. An appeal from King Aether, lead by the royal knight Dainsleif.
Lumine knew better. She’d witnessed Aether’s coronation from a distance, seen his glazed eyes as he greeted his subjects. Whatever the usurpers had done, they’d turned her two closest allies into puppets. Dark magic, possession—she didn’t know what it was, but she’d break it all the same.
She glanced down. Beside her, Paimon snored lightly, fast asleep. At least Lumine still had her. At least she wasn’t alone.
Clothing rustled and Lumine lifted her head just in time to lock eyes with the Dagger Knight.
No, that wasn’t right. Even without Paimon, she wasn’t entirely alone. Though, Lumine wasn’t sure how much she could trust her hired hand. Loyalty bought with coin could be lost just as easily.
The room felt small, almost uncomfortably so with three occupants. As though sensing her unease, the Dagger Knight broke the silence, “We’ll be out of Khaenri’ah tomorrow.”
Lumine nodded.
“You should try to get some sleep, princess. We’ll be out in the wilds soon and our nights won’t be this comfortable.” Despite her admonishments, he still used the nickname. Was it a warning? A threat? Lumine didn’t know.
“What about you?” she asked. The Dagger Knight had taken the night watch for the past few days and while he never showed his fatigue, he had to be feeling it by now. “We can switch shifts.”
He dismissively waved his hand. “No need, I’m good.”
She squared her shoulders. “Aren’t you tired?”
“Worried about me?” he cooed. “I’m honoured.”
He always flirted when he was trying to throw her off. Lumine clicked her tongue. “Considering what I’m paying you, I have to be.”
“That’s cold.” When she stared at him impassively, he broke eye contact, turning to the window. “I’ll sleep after we get out of the city.” Before she could object, he added, “You’re not the only one with bad dreams, princess.”
-x-
Of all the ways Lumine expected to leave Khaenri’ah, the only one she hadn’t considered was walking through the border’s gates. Yet, here they were, at a small border village, standing in queue to leave. Several people ahead of her, Paimon shifted nervously, glancing back every now and then with panicked eyes.
“Your maid’s a terrible liar,” the Dagger Knight said, leaning over so his lips brushed Lumine’s ears as he whispered. “Any bets on her getting caught?”
“Have you ever heard of personal space?” Lumine asked, forcing herself to still. The guards were patrolling the queue, and a flinch could draw unwanted attention.
“Have you ever known a couple to have any?” the Dagger Knight replied with an easy smirk. “Don’t forget to smile.”
It was hard to argue against that; while Paimon was leaving alone, they were leaving together, posing as a couple heading out for a honeymoon. With her arm wrapped around his elbow, they painted the picture of newlyweds. Still, if the past week had taught her anything, it was that even without this disguise, he liked pushing boundaries.
And Lumine didn’t like feeling so unbalanced all the time. “Have you ever known a couple that didn’t know each other’s names?”
“I’m ashamed you think I don’t know your name, princess,” he replied, feigning hurt. “I knew it the second I saw you.”
So she hadn’t really disguised herself at all back at that tavern. Lumine clicked her tongue. “I meant yours. Or should I tell the guards I’m married to the Dagger Knight?”
“Well…think they’d buy it as a pet name?” he asked. When she gave him a flat stare, he held up a hand in surrender. “Alright, alright, you can call me…” he trailed off, glancing at the gates. He lowered his eye. “Kaeya.”
Was that a real name? Another lie? Lumine pursed her lips. “Kaeya?”
“Don’t wear it out too much.” Kaeya adjusted her grip on his arm. “And what shall I call you? Lumine? Princess?”
They’d dyed her hair for the exit, but it would be pushing it to call herself Lumine still. She glanced over her shoulder, in the direction of the capital.
“Ying,” she said. “It’s a nickname.”
-x-
Lumine took a deep breath as they stood at a crossroads. Other travellers streamed ahead of them, taking one fork or the other. Merchants with gift-laden carts, families migrating to green pastures, solo adventures looking for a thrill—she had never known just how many people went through the country’s gates on a daily basis.
Moreover, she’d never gone through the gates herself. This was the first time she’d breathed non-Khaenri’ahian air and she found it tasted exactly the same.
Next to her, Paimon gripped her hand tightly as she stared back at the gates. “We’ll be back, won’t we?”
Lumine nodded, squeezing back. Her hands were sweaty but warm, just like they’d been when they’d raced through the castle’s secret pathways. “We will. We have to.”
There was no way she was abandoning Aether and Dainsleif like that.
She peeked up at their ‘guide’. He’d been unusually silent as they regrouped with Paimon. Even now, he wasn’t joking, his expression distant as he stared down the fork of the road leading to the neighbouring Mondstadt.
No, not distant. Longing.
Pained.
She’d seen that expression before. She and Paimon were wearing it right now.
Perhaps his nights were plagued with the same regrets as hers.
-x-
The road to Liyue was long, longer still without horses or a cart. They stayed off the beaten path, instead following a parallel path through the woods. While the nearby villages didn’t have any posters of her, it didn’t hurt to be careful.
Long grasses snapped underfoot as they walked. Behind her, Lumine heard Paimon shriek as she spotted a spider. After a week of constant walking, she was surprised Paimon still had the energy to shout like that. Her feet were worn, her legs exhausted, and her only thought was to put one step in front of the other.
“You’re a lot stronger than I gave you credit for,” Kaeya said, falling into step beside her. Annoyingly, he still had that carefree smile, as though he weren’t just as exhausted. “I didn’t think a princess could handle all of this walking.”
“I’ve gone hunting,” Lumine huffed, forcing her feet to keep moving. Another reason she couldn’t stop: she couldn’t stand the thought of proving him right. “How much longer? I don’t think Paimon will last much longer.”
“She’s not really made for…” Kaeya gestured at the trees around them, which was kinder than any word he could have used.
“No, even when we went camping, she’d rather stay in the castle.” Lumine cracked a smile. “She’d hole herself up until Aet—” Her words caught in her throat, her smile dropping. “Until we bribed her.”
If Kaeya noticed, he didn’t say. “Then she’ll be happy to hear she won’t have to suffer much longer. Another week and we’ll be safe in Liyue.”
“A week…” Lumine sighed.
“It’s a long trek,” Kaeya agreed. He peeked down at Lumine. “It’s a little late, but why Liyue?”
“It’s a lot late,” Lumine corrected, happy for the change in topic. “Liyue’s a port city, it’s easier to blend in and disappear. Or to find help.”
“That’s precisely why it’s my kinda town,” Kaeya hummed approvingly. “You never know what you’ll find in the back alleys.”
“Your kinda town?” It had been bugging her for days now, his expression back then, and she was too tired to hold back. “Liyue, not Mondstadt?”
Kaeya’s breath caught. “You’re observant.”
That wasn’t a denial. Lumine shrugged. “I have to be.”
This was a matter of life and death, and as much as she loved Paimon, her maid was as subtle and dense as a brick. They wouldn’t have been able to last long enough to find Kaeya in the first place if she hadn’t kept her guard up.
“Still, not many are able to adapt so well, princess,” Kaeya replied, impressed. “And I’ve been told I’m hard to read.”
“You are,” she acknowledged.
Kaeya chuckled. “Very hon—”
“And you’re changing the topic,” Lumine pointed out. She glanced up at him, then at the trees in front of them. Pressing her hand on the rough bark as she carefully walked around it, she added, “Never mind. You don’t have to answer.”
It wasn’t like they had that kind of relationship in the first place.
It wasn’t like she could talk about Khaenri’ah, about Aether either.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up—” Lumine apologized.
“No, it’s fine.” Kaeya’s tone was light as he interrupted, as though it didn’t matter, as though this meant nothing at all to him. Not for the first time, Lumine wanted to tear off his mask, to see just who was hiding behind that smile. “Once, perhaps, I would have recommended you go to Mondstadt.”
Once, but she didn’t press.
He answered her question anyways. “But once I wouldn’t have been smuggling overthrown princesses to another country.” For once, he wasn’t smiling, his expression haggard. “Let’s just say you aren’t the only one to lose your homeland, princess.”
“Oh.” She wondered what—who’d he had lost. Whose name was stuck in his throat, what words repeated in his head?
Whose hand he had wished he’d grabbed?
“Will you ever return?” Lumine asked in a low whisper, not sure if she was asking him or herself.
Kaeya looked haunted when he turned to her. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
The answer disappointed her. She didn’t know why. Fisting her hands, she bit out, “I will. I will.”
“I’m sure you will, princess,” Kaeya replied, that mask back in place, and somehow that disappointed her even more.
-x-
She found the answers to her questions at night, in the cover of darkness as the clouds covered the moon. While Kaeya had split the night watch with her, it was rare to find him asleep. Rarer still to find him in a deep sleep, oblivious to the world around him; the trek must have tired him more than he’d care to admit.
Sitting near him, Lumine watched as the fire flickered, shadows and light dancing across his skin. For once, his face was unguarded. He looked younger. He looked worn.
He looked unhappy. His brow furrowed, his lips moving to a silent prayer. The fire crackled.
“Sorry.”
Lumine stilled.
“I’m sorry,” Kaeya muttered, his voice barely audible. “Diluc.”
She wondered who that was.
She wondered and discarded that thought—it didn’t matter. There were some questions that didn’t need answers. Quietly, Lumine slipped her hand into his; his palm was clammy. Kaeya squeezed tightly, his eyes opening a crack before he slipped back into his dreams. Beside her, the fire cooled and died, leaving behind only embers.
She didn’t withdraw her hand.
-x-
They never talked of that night, or of the morning after. They never talked and yet Lumine found traces of it everywhere, in every lingering touch, in every caught gaze, every word that was left unsaid. Something had shifted in their relationship, something that she couldn’t put into words but felt it all the same.
A week felt too short and a day too long and before she knew it, they were at Liyue.
“Tomorrow,” Kaeya said, his eyes locking onto hers. “I’ll leave you at the city gates.”
And now, here was another feeling she didn’t know how to describe.
-x-
A last night.
A last chance.
Lumine remembered Aether closing the passageway door, remembered Dainsleif urging them to run, remembered her last look at Khaenri’ah.
Remembered Kaeya’s forlorn gaze to Mondstadt.
Remembered and couldn’t sleep. It was still early when she sat up.
“It’s not your shift yet,” Kaeya said as he tossed another log into the fire. “Though I would never say no to your company, princess.”
Her throat burned at the nickname. A last time for that too. Lumine squared her shoulders and got up; she’d learned enough the past few weeks to know that second chances came by rarely. More often than not, what was lost was lost forever.
And she was tired of losing things.
Carefully, she picked her way toward him. Kaeya raised a brow, shifting slightly so she could sit beside him. “Nightmares?” he asked softly.
“No.” She sat as close to him as possible, close enough their hips and thighs brushed with every shift, close enough that she could feel his warmth instead of the fire’s.
Curious, he glanced at her, but didn’t move. “Oh, then pulling a double shift?” Something nameless flickered across his face before he smirked. “Or are you missing me already?”
“Yes,” she breathed, before yanking him close for a kiss. He stiffened before responding, a hand curling around her arm, the other cupping her head. Before he could deepen the kiss, though, she pulled away, just enough that she could make out his expression.
The mask slipped just enough that she could see his surprise, his desire, his fear. “You…”
“Tomorrow can disappear so quickly,” she said, interlacing their fingers. “And I’m tired of regrets. Aren’t you?”
“That…” The gaze that met hers was smouldering now. In response, he drew her back in for another kiss.
She stopped him before he could, a finger on his lips. “This can’t mean anything.”
“How cold,” he whispered.
“It can’t,” Lumine repeated, if only for herself. “Aether and Khaenri’ah will always come first.”
He kept quiet, studying her. She wondered what he saw. Kaeya nodded. “That’s fine.” Cupping her cheek, he leaned in closer. “I wouldn’t say you’re my priority either.”
His kiss felt desperate, and she wondered if he could lie just as easily as she did.
