Of all the things, he did trust her with, his plan wasn’t one of them.
Also on AO3.
Contains heavy spoilers for 1.1, A New Star Approaches. Read at your discretion to avoid being spoiled.
“Uncover that answer for yourself in your future journeys.”
It hadn’t seemed real. The Gnosis trading hands as if it was a common good. A contract between the Tsaritsa and Rex Lapis for reasons the latter could not divulge.
Lumine felt for him, could hear the weariness in his voice. For once, he wanted something more from the world and yet nothing at all, and she couldn’t imagine what that felt like. To have watched the world around you grow while time slipped through your fingers as though it was sand, losing those you cared about, those you loved…
He could have been honest with her, if no one else. She would have stuffed Paimon in a treasure chest for five minutes if it meant having gotten the truth from his lips.
She helped plan his Archon-blasted funeral, for crying out loud. He asked her, a perfect stranger he only knew through rumor (as far as she knew), to help him practice funeral rites that were, while old-fashioned and traditional, clearly important to him. And yet he didn’t trust her with this?
Did he even trust anyone at all?
What good was a friend if you couldn’t trust them?
Trust was more valuable than any amount of Mora or precious stone. It meant literally putting your life in the hands of another and counting on them not to take it of their own accord. In her line of work, it paid to be cautious. But if trust didn’t exist, what good was the partnership?
A partnership that, for once, made her feel as if she belonged in Teyvat? Like she wasn’t just a Traveler with no memory of how they arrived, of how they lost their only family member?
When he finished, Lumine could only stare at him, hands trembling. Her jaw was tense and everything inside her felt as though it was being pinched by a Ruin Guard. She could only nod numbly and throw in a standard phrase she offered anyone who asked for her help.
Lumine’s hand hovered over the door handle of the bank that night, the metal cold even from a tiny distance. There wasn’t much left to say and yet words bubbled up inside her, reminiscent of Amber attempting to cook for everyone.
Nothing good ever came of opening her mouth at a time like this and Paimon had already said enough. But something else had to be spoken; he at least needed to try to understand the consequences of his actions on those around him.
“I guess you can finally consider your duties finished, Rex Lapis. Perhaps in the future, you should consider those in your plans, be they human or Adepti, as your allies, not pawns to do with as you please.”
It came out harsher than she meant it to, so much so that she winced a little. Her patience was never as thin and fragile as it was in that moment, like an old string on an instrument wound just a bit too tight. Today was long and difficult and nothing quite made sense anymore.
In all her travels, those who were at the top of the food chain, be they gods or monsters, never quite seemed to understand their impact. Why would Teyvat be any different?
The softest sound of fabric moving and a sole of a shoe hit her ear, followed by the beginning of her name. If he had his way, he would get the last word in. She didn’t stick around long enough to let him.
She was tired of hearing people talk.
__________
Almost a week later, Paimon was chirping in her ear about the Rite of Parting.
And so far, Lumine had done a good job of avoiding the ex-Archon in that timespan. Her companions accompanied her on guild requests, they ran errands for the people of Liyue, and kept her from thinking too much. When anyone asked, she gave them a half-truth that she missed Aether and was disappointed to have nothing much in the way of leads to show for their efforts in Liyue.
Which she was.
It was enough to keep anyone from prying.
And the irony of her own lack of trust of her companions wasn’t far from her mind. But they wouldn’t understand, even if she told them. It wasn’t just his manipulation and lack of transparency with her that gnawed at her heart; Zhongli…Rex Lapis…was one of the few she ever came across who…
This was why it was always safer to travel with her brother, her only kin who knew what it was to rely on family and the implicit knowledge that without one another, they had almost nothing. She couldn’t get attached to people who would only disappoint her.
The Rite of Parting was a dizzying array of sounds and scents but more somber than the Rite of Descension, a hush covering the pavilion like a pall, heavy and thick. No one here, except for the distant figure across the way, knew that the items collected on the dais were her handiwork. A stranger in a strange land providing a send-off for a god that wasn’t hers, one that no one seemed to understand was just as manipulative as the very Qixing who took control of the city almost instantly.
Prosperity didn’t come without shortcuts, without a system by which to break the rules that made it function.
When Keqing called her out, her mind was foggy and her heart was as heavy as white iron ore. She didn’t want to be here. What could the people of Liyue give her that she even had use for?
Lumine’s eyes drifted to her left, the early morning sun catching the golden flecks of hair that made her think that, even without his Gnosis, he would still be divine. Just as quickly, she returned her attention to Keqing and said the first thing that came to mind, asking for missing person posters for her brother.
Paimon audibly face-palmed but she didn’t care. She wasn’t here to stay. She was here to figure out what happened to Aether and that was that.
After talking to fellow attendees, the only person she knew left was the guest of honor. Not that anyone knew that, of course. Lumine had a feeling that Ningguang, at the very least, had her suspicions on the hovering figure but the Tianquan didn’t seem inclined to pursue them just yet.
“Hey, Zhongli! Look at this! Everyone in Liyue’s caught up in their emotions, thinking they’ll never see Rex Lapis again…and here you are, looking as relaxed as a cat in the sun!” Paimon chattered.
Lumine’s heart skipped several beats when amber eyes as glittering as the jade on the table behind her fell on her and she couldn’t hold his gaze for long. It hurt too much. She stepped towards the stone railing and rested her hands on the cold stone, a reminder that the man next to her was just the same.
Zhongli’s laugh was as crisp as the peel of the cleansing bell without the added benefit of purging her anxiety. “Why would I not feel more at ease after laying down the burden I have borne for 3,700 years?”
When the Traveler didn’t reply, he cleared his throat and continued, “Right. If the two of you can spare the time, I should treat you to a meal at the Xinyue Kiosk.”
Paimon chimed in and when Zhongli admitted that he lacked the mora, Lumine felt like she could take no more. “Paimon, could you…do whatever it is you do and pop away, please?”
“But Paimon’s hung—“
“I would like to speak to Zhongli alone, if you don’t mind.”
Her flying friend huffed but agreed, disappearing in a flash of constellations. Lumine drew in a deep breath, looking down at her hands for a moment, ignoring the worn spot on her thumb of her glove that needed a repair.
“You were right to be critical the other night,” Zhongli said, turning to face the banister and set his gaze upon the harbor. “I owe you an—”
Lumine raised a hand tentatively and cast a sideways look towards him, the word dying on his lips.
“Before you continue, I want to explain myself. You…revealed a part of yourself that you kept hidden and I’d like to do you the same courtesy.”
She waited until Zhongli nodded, his earring tinkling with the motion.
“They relate to one another. She feels like she was learning, like he was genuinely trying to help her understand the world and the culture of Liyue and no one had done that with her. People told her things but few people actually showed her the marvels of this world. Diluc did, sort of, and Lisa’s books taught her a lot, but no one demonstrated intricate details to her before.
“I love my Mondstadt friends dearly. People told me so much about the city and its history. And maybe because of its free nature, that city is more about self-discovery. Regardless, you trusted me with so much and imparted knowledge that I doubt I would have found elsewhere….
“For the first time since I crash landed to this world, every moment in Liyue felt like I was more than the Traveler, more than someone from a strange land who helped save a city and is only good for errands. Every step in planning this ritual,” she gestured to the crowd behind her for emphasis, “was seeing theory in action, so to speak, and I know more about the people here than most of its citizens do. No one ever explained and demonstrated the intricate details of Teyvat to me before, showed me the marvels that lay under everyone’s noses.”
She paused, trying to keep her thoughts from tangling again. She had this essentially memorized. Why was this so hard?
Zhongli seemed to sense her hesitation, adjusting his gloves as he spoke.
“Liyue is…dear to me. And I thought it important that you saw firsthand that the Liyue you see today is steeped in both modernity and tradition. Always with one foot ahead of the other, shackled to the past. Such a dichotomy goes beyond the tensions between the Qixing and the Adepti and ingrained in the very nature of this city.”
Lumine nodded and continued, “It was like a secret that both of us shared without ever knowing who the other really was. As though you welcomed me into this world instead of trying me like a foreigner no one knows what to do about except provide a false sense of purpose and a place to sleep.”
She tapped her palms against the stone, warmer now from her touch and the morning sun.
“And yet you withheld your intentions this entire time, despite the possibility that I…” she swallowed, wishing her mind wasn’t going faster than her mouth, “that we might be able to help. You just watched all of us as if we were no more than puppets…”
If he even took note of her mistake, it wasn’t apparent. Zhongli always stood straight and tall and she swore that he seemed to straighten his back even further at her question, growing as still as the stone he represented.
“It was never my intention to use the city and inhabitants…especially you and your friends, as pawns. My plans needed to occur organically, without as much interference as possible to promise the best outcome.”
When he didn’t elaborate further, Lumine exhaled, balling her hands into fists and pressing them into the stone. She tempered her tone, careful not to draw attention, wondering if all Archons were as frustrating as they were representative of their elements. Rex Lapis was meant to be as immovable as stone but there was no way he was as thickheaded, surely?
“You let me help plan your own funeral. I’m a complete stranger who literally fell from the sky a few months ago and you trusted me to plan a delicate Rite as if we were old friends. And yet you couldn’t trust me with your plan?”
Her voice cracked at the end and she scoffed at herself, shaking her head. What did it matter? It didn’t and it shouldn’t and yet…
This was stupid. She shouldn’t have bothered. She needed to focus on finding Aether, not being bothered by a lack of consideration. She didn’t belong anyway, she had no right to expect…
“Nevermind. Forget I said anything.”
Lumine pushed away from the railing and went to turn and head back to the crowd, fighting the urge to jump off the pavilion and sail down instead. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blur of color and felt something wrap around her wrist gently. Her gaze followed the hand up to a shoulder and then to a face, one that, for once, looked to be made of anything but stone.
“Is that what you think, Lumine? That I didn’t—that I don’t—trust you?” Zhongli asked, amber eyes burning so bright she would have mistaken him for a Pyro user.
“Why else would you refuse to let anyone else help you with your intentions?”
“It was my burden to bear until everything was completed. I’m a man of my word and oath and to divulge anything would require breaking my agreement with the Tsaritsa.”
Lumine glanced down again at his hand and then back at him and he let go of her wrist with a murmured apology, seeming to have forgotten he was touching her.
“I wouldn’t have told you about the Glaze Lilies and their secret if I didn’t believe you were trustworthy. It’s one few people remember that a…dear friend once shared with me. She used to tend to them.”
His gaze seemed to go through her, lost in another location, another time. Lumine’s mind went through that moment, when he told her about singing to the Glaze Lilies, and then she considered…the jade…the perfume…
“None of this was for you, was it?” Lumine whispered.
Zhongli blinked, as if registering her words, and then shook his head slightly, ponytail swaying.
“This was for her. The people might think it for me but all of those items…they mean more to her than they ever did to me. I’d rather not discuss it any longer.”
She nodded, reaching out a hand to take his. When he didn’t pull away, she squeezed gently.
“I’ll tell you about her one day,” he whispered.
“Only when you’re ready. I’m sorry for…”
“No, you were correct. I have been alone for so long that trusting others does not come easy to me. I will try to be more forthcoming in future.”
He raised her hand, still joined in his, and, after casting a sidelong glance to the Rite, brushed his lips to her knuckles so softly that she thought she dreamed his breath skimming her skin.
“Now, as I was originally saying. I would like to treat you to a meal at Xinyue Kiosk…”
As if on cue, Paimon popped over her shoulder, unable to resist.
“Did someone say food? Are we back to talking about lunch options? Because Paimon could really go for some Yue style…”
Although he lowered her hand before Paimon arrived, Zhongli had yet to let go, and Lumine felt herself smile at the warmth that radiated from his touch. Although their moment was lost in Paimon’s arrow-sharp focus on culinary delights, Fingers tightened around hers, just once, and she returned the gesture.
Their moment fleeting, but not forgotten.