Where The Heart Is
Silva Noctua
"Wow~!" Paimon squealed, pressing her nose up against the library's frosted window. "It's snowing again! Mondstadt looks like a fluffy, white... angel food cake!"
Lisa chuckled as she filled her guests' teacups. "I suppose you've never been in Mondstadt during Yuletide, have you?"
"No, we haven't," said Lumine. She folded her hands around her steaming cup and inhaled the fragrance: cinnamon, ginger, cardamom, and a slightly bitter undercurrent she couldn't place. Her eyelids fluttered. "Umm. This smells heavenly, Lisa, thanks."
"Thought you might appreciate this brew," Lisa returned, and winked at her.
Lumine felt steam warm her cheeks. "Tell me about Yuletide," she said purposefully.
The Knights of Favonius's librarian settled back in her armchair and delicately collected her own teacup. "There are records of a midwinter festival in Decarabian's time," she mused, tapping her slender fingers against the ceramic. "The twelve-day celebration of Yule is an outgrowth of the ancient rites. These days, Mondstadters mark the occasion by gathering with family and loved ones, asking Lord Barbatos's blessing for the year to come, and—as you'd expect of any Mondstadter festival—indulging in copious amounts of good food and wine."
That sounds like something we did in our world, too, thought Lumine. But dwelling on those days with Aether made her chest ache, and she didn't need to feel lonely right now.
"Do you have plans for the festival?" she asked instead.
"Me?" Lisa huffed a stray lock of hair from in front of her eyes. "Does it count as a plan if I fall back on the same thing every year? I suppose it does. —In that case, I expect I'll help the Acting Grand Master file the Knights' paperwork."
"What?" shrilled Paimon. "No way! You're the laziest person we know! Paimon can't believe you'd be working when everyone else gets to slack off!"
"I've never seen the need to make a fuss over holidays," the librarian said with an idle shrug. A smile tugged at her lips. "Besides, Jean claims it's one of the rare times she can actually get work done. No distractions."
With that Lisa cast a meaningful glance across the library. There was an anxious-faced knight hovering near her untended desk; by Lumine's estimation, he had been waiting for several minutes now, shuffling his feet and tottering under a tower of books. The librarian sighed deeply.
"Speaking of distractions... You'll have to excuse me for a moment, cutie."
Lisa set aside her teacup, unfolded herself from her chair, and swept off to take care of her client. Lumine watched her go. Perhaps it was only her imagination, but the sinuous mage seemed to swing her hips more than usual.
Pink-faced, Lumine redirected her stare to her teacup. Sometimes she didn't know what to make of Lisa Minci's teasing. Especially when the mage went on to spend her days with Jean...
She turned to her elfin travelling companion. "Paimon, do you know anything about Yule?"
"Uh-huh! It's just like Miss Lisa said: lots of good food and good company!"
Lumine nodded pensively, watching with a mixture of amusement and concern as Paimon proceeded to devour a tea scone as large as her head.
I know Lisa said she didn't want to make a fuss over the occasion. The outlander nibbled at her thumb in thought. I know she doesn't have any family in Mondstadt, either, but that doesn't mean she can't enjoy the holiday.
But if she'd rather spend that time working with Jean...
Paimon plopped down on her shoulder, startling Lumine out of her rumination. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" her companion asked shrewdly.
Lumine felt as though coals had ignited in her cheeks. Archons, I hope not! I'm already up against Mondstadt's best swordswoman, apparently.
Warily, she asked, "What are you thinking?"
"Sticky honey roast for Yuletide!" Paimon rubbed her hands together with glee. "Let's go visit Good Hunter!"
"I'm sorry," a harried-looking Sara informed the pair at Good Hunter's front counter that evening. "Our Yule orders filled up two days ago. If you want takeout, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until after the festival."
"Aww!" Paimon pouted, folding her arms. "Paimon was looking forward to sticky honey roast..."
Lumine crossed her fingers behind her back. "Are you sure there's nothing you can do?" she inquired. "This is for the Knights of Favonius. Some of them are working overtime during the holiday."
"The Knights of Favonius...?" Sara shook her head and sighed. "I suppose that's no surprise. I can't imagine what lengths they have to go to keep Mondstadt safe for us all. Listen, I wish I could help you—and the Knights—but we really are swamped in orders right now."
"It sounds like you could use some help," said Lumine. "We don't have any plans for Yule. Right, Paimon?"
Meanwhile Sara blushed. "Oh—no, no, you needn't trouble yourselves!" she hastened to intervene, raising her hands. "I appreciate all the errands you've run for us in the past, Lumine, but it's Yuletide and I can't ask..."
The head waitress trailed off, her brow pinching in sudden thought. "Actually... I've been short-handed in the kitchen because of our delivery volume. If you wouldn't mind handling some of the Springvale orders tomorrow, my girls might have the time to squeeze a sticky honey roast or two in the oven."
Lumine saluted. She was an Honorary Knight of Favonius acting on behalf of the order, after all. "Just tell me who I'm looking for and you can consider it done," she said.
Several minutes later, the pair departed the restaurant counter with a hastily scrawled delivery schedule and instructions to return the following morning, on the first day of the festival. Lumine's head was spinning with the mountains of sweet madames and moon pies that would soon pass through Sara's kitchen.
"Yippee, we get sticky honey roast!" cheered Paimon.
"We might get sticky honey roast," Lumine corrected. "Besides, it's for Lisa and Jean. They'll be working overtime tomorrow."
"But Paimon works hard too..."
Her companion's sulk was short-lived, as usual. No sooner had the pair rounded the block than Paimon perked up: "Hey! Look, there's Charles over at Angel's Share! Let's see if he can get us some more Yule goodies!"
Lumine's footsteps crunched through deepening snow as she cut across the plaza in front of the tavern. Charles stood at the door with his back to their approach: his shoulders hunched beneath a fur mantle as his gloved hands fumbled with the latch. It almost seemed he was locking up for the night, but that couldn't be right—there had to be an hour or two of daylight left.
"Damn door always ices up," Lumine heard him mutter as she came up behind him.
She cleared her throat. "Hi, Charles."
The bartender jumped and swung about. "Oh, hey—long time no see, kiddo! I was just closing up—" he jerked his thumb at the door, "—but you're welcome to step in for a cuppa hot cider."
Lumine tilted her head. "It's a little early to close, isn't it?"
Charles laughed, "Sometimes I forget you're an outlander! Yule starts tomorrow—it's a twelve-day festival here in Mondstadt. Master Diluc always gives us the time off."
"The festival is the reason I'm here, actually," Lumine told him. She folded her arms for warmth and crossed her heels in the snow. "Some of the Knights will be working overtime. I thought they might appreciate some good wine."
Charles nodded thoughtfully. "The Knights of Favonius never stop working to protect this city. It's only fair that we do our part to support them. A free drink at the end of the week can get a man through a lot, I've always said."
"So that's why Sir Kaeya always hangs around here!" exclaimed Paimon.
Charles frowned at Lumine. "However... Not that I don't trust you, kiddo, but it's on my head if word gets out I sold alcohol to a minor. Even if it was with the best of intentions."
"How many times do I have to tell you, Charles?" Lumine set her hands on her hips, a long-suffering smile playing at her lips. "I'm not a minor. I just don't like the taste of alcohol."
"Now where have I heard that before?" The bartender shook his head. "Hmm... come to think of it, we do have a barrel of apple cider that Master Diluc said ought to go. I'll give it to you for a discount. You can borrow my cart."
Jean closed a yellowing file and sighed deeply. The Knights of Favonius's Acting Grand Master slumped in her chair and stared at a desktop buried beneath mountains of the same.
"I hate to speak ill of Grand Master Varka," she murmured. "He's a good man, and a better leader. Even so..."
She rubbed at her temples. "The man can't write a simple report. Half of these are misfiled. That pile over there needs to be rewritten. And these ones..." She sighed again, helplessly.
Lisa collected the file Jean had finished reworking. "I doubt the Grand Master will be parading through the city tomorrow," the librarian pointed out. "His mess, on the other hand, will still be here."
Jean smiled up at her. "I appreciate the thought, Lisa. But I'm fine." She picked up a stained mug. "I might need to trouble you for another brew of coffee, that's all."
"That's hardly what I'd call trouble," Lisa chuckled warmly. "There's a fresh pot in stasis downstairs. I'll just be a moment."
She replaced the file on a shelf already groaning under the weight of the Knights' meticulous records. Then, casting a glance back at the library's darkening windows, she slipped off to the lab to retrieve Jean's coffee.
By the time she returned, it seemed the shadows between the bookshelves had deepened. Snowflakes pressed up against the pitch-dark panes. She could hear Barbatos's wind scrabbling against cracks in the headquarters' stone walls.
It hasn't stopped snowing since yesterday, Lisa reflected. She thought of Lumine and Paimon, and hoped that the outlander had chosen somewhere warm to spend the first evening of Yule. The pair had only recently returned from adventures in Liyue: Lumine didn't even have a proper coat to protect her from the bitterness of a Mondstadt winter.
Lisa sighed softly, depositing a steaming mug next to Jean's steadily growing collection. "It seems pretty quiet out tonight," she told the Acting Grand Master.
It was at that moment that one of the library's main doors swung open.
"Let's hope it stays that way," said Kaeya, shifting his grip on a large stack of volumes in order to kick the door closed. "I haven't got enough men out there to cover the streets."
Jean rose from her seat. "Sir Kaeya? What are you doing here? I thought I gave you the day off."
"And I would be enjoying said day off, but it turns out every tavern in Mondstadt's closed for the festival." Kaeya flashed her a wry grin. "You'd think folk would be more inclined to drink after spending the day with family."
Jean frowned at the Cavalry Captain's flippancy, settling her hands on her hips. "I didn't give you time off just to drown yourself in your cup. You didn't even try to see Diluc, did you?"
"I considered it, but then I remembered I like my remaining organs where they are." Kaeya thumped his armload of books on the desk and pretended not to notice that he'd knocked several files over the edge. He flicked his azure hair out of his eye. "—Are these the court records you requested or not? Your errand-boy seemed dead on his feet, so I dismissed him."
"Sir Piggot..." Jean rubbed at her temples again. "I told him to go home hours ago. You should go, too, Kaeya." She looked around the library, including Lisa in her bleary-eyed stare. "You should all just... go home..."
Lisa stepped forward and laid a hand upon the Acting Grand Master's arm.
"Jean, if anyone deserves to go home, it's you. You've put in more than a day's effort already." She yawned behind a lifted hand. And I've put in enough for a month, at least. "Don't you think Barbara would be ecstatic to see you this Yuletide?"
Jean gazed down at the desktop: at two dried-up inkwells, half a dozen discarded coffee cups, and the loom of months of mishandled paperwork.
"Barbara doesn't need to see me like this," she mumbled. She pressed her fingers over her eyes, defeated. "Archons, there's so much left to do..."
"Then tell us what needs doing." Kaeya slapped his palm atop the stack of court records and jabbed a finger in Jean's direction. "Sit your ass in that fancy chair there and delegate. That's what a Grand Master's supposed to do, isn't it?"
Jean blinked.
If Lisa had ever doubted their commander's exhaustion, that blank look in her eyes forever dispelled that delusion. Jean was nothing if not prompt to rebuff Kaeya's incorrigible tongue.
"He does have a point," the librarian said delicately. "None of us would be here tonight if not for Grand Master Varka's shrewd aptitude for delegation."
Reluctantly, the Acting Grand Master sat down. "All right. I'll do my best to delegate from here on." She gripped the arms of her chair. "But when you two have had enough, you've—"
"Oh, we'll speak up, don't worry." Kaeya waved aside her concern. "Miss Lisa and I only put in overtime once a year."
"So c-c-cold!" chattered Paimon. "Paimon could use a s-s-sticky honey roast after all those deliveries. Or a bowl of hot soup."
Or a cup of Lisa's homebrew, Lumine agreed, barely suppressing a shiver. She would be eternally grateful to the librarian for lending her a fur-lined cloak. Trekking to Springvale and back with her head in a cloud of Lisa's favourite spices had considerably lightened the ordeal.
Pulling her hood down against the wind, Lumine presently trudged toward the glow of Good Hunter's lantern. The midwinter sun had set as the pair had neared the city; orange light haloed the windows above Mondstadt's boarded-up shop fronts, and the outlander thought longingly of cozy rooms warmed with laughter and hearty aromas.
Aether... do you remember when we celebrated this time together, too?
While Lumine was adrift in her thoughts, Paimon clapped the bell on Good Hunter's counter. A moment later, Sara poked her head out of the kitchen.
"Lumine, there you are!" The waitress's flushed face brightened in recognition. "Your order's all set, as promised."
She withdrew briefly, only to return with a large sack in her arms. As she heaved it onto the counter Paimon let out a shrill of delight. The boon smelled of steaming warmth and all manner of good things to eat, and even Lumine caught her stomach growling.
She eyed Sara suspiciously. The waitress looked exhausted. "I thought you said you might be able to squeeze in a roast or two. You didn't stay late just to make all this, did you?"
"Oh, don't worry about me!" Sara waved off her concern. "Cleaning up took a little longer than expected, that's all. Not that I mind—I'm glad I could catch you before I left. As for all this..."
The waitress beamed, pink-faced. "I might have told a few people that the Knights of Favonius were working overtime. Needless to say, they were more than happy to chip in."
Lumine didn't know what to say. Especially given that the 'overworked Knights of Favonius' she was so worried about numbered exactly two.
"Sara, you didn't have—" she began.
Sara cut her off with a grin. "Don't worry about it! Call it a Yuletide gift from Mondstadt."
"Hooray for Yuletide!" chirruped Paimon.
Lumine knew a losing battle when she saw one. Shaking her head, she reached over the counter and pulled at the sack. It was heavier than she expected—how many sticky honey roasts had Sara managed to shove in there?
"All right," she conceded primly, "but you have to let me pay for this. And we'll wait until you're finished closing so we can walk you home. It's getting cold out."
It was cold out. By the time the pair had escorted Sara to her apartment and bid her a happy Yuletide, the moon had risen fully, bathing Mondstadt's snow-banked streets in glacial silver light.
Snowflakes spattered Lumine's lashes as she gazed at the glowing windows overhead. Once more her thoughts drifted to the happy families within—to Sara, merily reuniting with her sisters—but even though she herself stood out in the cold, she felt warmer with the sack of still-steaming bounty clutched against her chest.
Warmer still with Paimon nestling against her cheek beneath her hood.
"Now let's go by Angel's Share and get Charles's cart!" her constant companion bolstered. "Hehe, Paimon's gonna get sticky honey roast soon~"
Lumine would certainly have welcomed a sticky honey roast right about then. A chill wind whipped up her skirts as she crossed the plaza toward the tavern; she shivered, huddling against the warmth of her sack.
Winter didn't seem half as forbidding in Liyue, she reflected. It was hard to believe that two weeks ago she had been sitting out on the patio of Xiangling's father's restaurant, sipping chrysanthemum tea and sampling local delicacies with her new friend. Perhaps she ought to have reconsidered Xiangling's offer to stay in Liyue Harbor a while longer...
Half-blinded by blowing snow, it was Paimon's shrill in her ear that forewarned her:
"Hey! Someone's trying to break into Angel's Share!"
Lumine shook the fur trim of her hood out of her eyes. It was true: there was a dark figure on the tavern's stoop, struggling with the same door Charles had said always iced over.
Without further deliberation Lumine dropped her bounty behind a pile of snow. She plunged her right hand beneath her cloak and came up with her sword, Dawn, shimmering like a deadly shard of ice in the moonlight. On cat's feet she slipped up behind the intruder.
Her stalk was somewhat hampered by the crunch of shin-deep snow; and Paimon, hastening to flit after her, bumped into her cheek with a startled squeak.
The dark figure stiffened. Lumine froze in turn, watching for the signal that would give away his next move. Would he run like a startled hare? Or would he turn and confront her?
Either way, the Honorary Knight of Favonius was ready to defend her city from mischief.
A heartbeat passed. Then the figure spoke over his shoulder: "Few dare to venture out at this hour. Fewer still with a good reason. What's yours, Outlander?"
Lumine's frozen cheeks burned. She knew that voice. Just as well as she knew that stabbing Diluc Ragnvindr in the back would not result in a happy Yuletide for anyone involved.
She fumbled to sheathe Dawn, cursing her numb fingers. "Charles said we could have an old keg of cider," she offered by way of explanation. "He left it in a cart out back for us. I, uh... Sorry for sneaking up on you. Paimon thought you were up to something."
"Hey!" Paimon protested. "It's dark, you know! And you're acting awfully shady yourself, Mister What's-Your-Reason-To-Be-Out-Here!"
Diluc shifted out of the tavern's doorway. As he stepped away from the building, moonlight slashed his crimson hair with silver. He folded his arms, peering down at the two of them.
"Rest assured I was not breaking into my own tavern," he said dryly.
Lumine winced; she supposed she ought to know better than to attempt to creep up on the Darknight Hero, of all people. Also, she made a mental note to teach Paimon to use her indoor voice. Soon.
Paimon crossed her arms, mimicking the redhead's stern posture. "Then what were you up to, hmm?"
"My business is my own," Diluc refuted. "I trust you both recall that I am no mere bartender."
Lumine doubted that anyone could mistake the owner of Dawn Winery, and consequently half of Mondstadt's alcohol industry, as a mere bartender. Still, she was one of the few who knew another side of him—as Mondstadt's silent but stalwart protector. If the Darknight Hero was working tonight, then she knew better than to pry. Diluc wouldn't burden anyone else with his mission.
The redhead's gaze lingered on her, thoughtfully. "I wasn't aware that you were so fond of cider," he mused. "Otherwise, I might have had a fresh batch made for you."
"Actually, it's for the Knights of Favonius."
As soon as the words left her lips Lumine realized what a stupid thing that was to say in front of Diluc. The former Cavalry Captain's disdain for the order was hardly a secret. She hastened to add, "Some of my friends are working over the holiday, and I thought it might cheer them up."
Wordlessly Diluc turned away. Shoulders hunched, he glowered at the tavern's ice-crusted door, and in that moment Lumine was certain he would order them both to leave his premises.
Then the redhead slammed the heel of his right boot against the door.
Lumine flinched; she felt Paimon plunge beneath her hood for cover. At the same time the frozen latch finally popped open, and the door swung inward.
Diluc glanced back at her.
"...You're shivering," he said shortly. "Get inside and warm up, and then I'll help you with the cart. It's not safe to wander Mondstadt at night, especially when the Knights' patrols are this thin."
No matter how briskly they tackled the backlog, neither the Knights nor their long-suffering librarian could keep pace with the dwindling candlelight. They were fighting a losing battle against the night.
Lisa blew out the match with which she'd relit the library's candelabra. As she ambled back to her seat, she chanced a look over at her companions.
Jean's mug was empty again. The Acting Grand Master sat muttering over an illegibly ink-stained document, otherwise blind and deaf to the world. Across the desk from her, Kaeya nodded against his propped palm—blind and deaf himself, or near enough to it.
A Sumeru Academy alumna would never debase herself with the brutish conduct of the Knights' common servicemen. That said, the gracious mage wasn't above jolting the nape of the Cavalry Captain's neck with Electro.
Kaeya sat bolt upright, swearing to make an old salt proud.
Jean squinted across the laden desktop. "Sir Kaeya? Is something wrong?"
"Everything's fine," Lisa answered on his behalf. Primly she slid into the chair beside him and smoothed her robe over her lap. "Is it not, Sir Kaeya?"
The Captain's grunt satisfied Jean, who nodded distractedly as she shifted her attention back to her reading.
Under her breath, the mage did not hesitate to inform her colleague, "If I don't get to sleep, then you won't either, sir ."
Kaeya rubbed at his neck and grimaced. "If you've ever wondered why you're still a spinster," he muttered back, "consider taking a hard look in the mirror sometime."
Lisa snapped her fingers. Ominous purple sparks crackled above her glove. Come a little closer, Sir Kaeya. This old 'spinster' can't hear you too well.
The indifferent Captain glanced past the threat of her Electro power. Momentarily Lisa heard what he must have already noticed—the tread of footsteps on the library's stairs behind them.
"What's all this commotion?" a soft voice intervened. "I'm in the midst of some rather... delicate experiments downstairs."
Lisa looked over to see the Knights of Favonius's boyish Chief Alchemist and Captain of the Investigation Team frowning at them from the top of the stairs.
Meanwhile Kaeya leaned over the back of his chair and grinned. "Oh, hey, Albedo! You're still here, too?"
"'Still'?" The alchemist raised his brows. "You say that as if it were a noteworthy occurrence."
Kaeya shrugged, casting an idle glance toward the library's blackened windows. "It's after sunset on the first day of Yule. Most folk would rather be somewhere else."
"Is it Yuletide already? Hmm." Albedo brought a hand to his chin in thought. "That does explain why Sucrose nearly fainted yesterday when I told her I'd see her tomorrow."
Lisa had to shake her head at the coolness of the alchemist's inference. "Poor girl," she tittered. "You got her hopes up for nothing, didn't you?"
Albedo frowned at her. "You appear to be insinuating... something. Please speak plainly, Miss Lisa. Your intended reference eludes me."
That it most certainly did. Oh, Sucrose, you sweet, long-suffering thing...
At that moment, a knock at one of the library's main doors put a halt to the discussion.
Jean passed a hand over her face, trying but failing to look exasperated. "Who else is working late?"
"Might be a patrol reporting in." Kaeya swung out of his seat and loped over to the door.
When he opened the door, Lisa didn't know which came as a sweeter surprise—the sudden appearance of Lumine, bright-eyed and flushed from the cold, with strands of holly woven into her flaxen hair; or the resigned grimace of the red-haired man accompanying her.
Lisa couldn't remember the last time Diluc Ragnvindr had stepped foot in the Knights of Favonius's headquarters. She certainly couldn't fathom by what fell power Lumine had induced the former Cavalry Captain's cooperation. He silently bore the weight of a cedar keg; Lumine herself was toting a large sack.
"Happy Yuletide, from Mondstadt," the outlander said breathlessly, looking around the library. If she was surprised to see the two Captains alongside Jean and Lisa, she recovered quickly enough to beam at them all. "We brought sticky honey roast and apple cider. Oh, and Master Diluc brought dandelion wine, too, if anyone would prefer."
"I would indeed," said Kaeya, snatching the bottle from the redhead's hold.
Lisa chuckled. She doubted the Cavalry Captain would have looked happier had Jean given him the rest of Yuletide off. "I believe Sir Kaeya would like to kiss you."
"Sir Kaeya would kindly restrain himself," Diluc deadpanned, readjusting his grip on the keg.
Kaeya pretended not to hear them. "Did you bring any goblets, Luc, or shall I swig this like a peasant?"
"That won't be necessary," Albedo cut in. Pragmatically the alchemist pulled out his sketchpad. "Sticky honey roast, was it? I suppose we'll need plates and cutlery for everyone, too."
In short order Albedo began to materialize the necessary crockery, and Diluc served up cider while Kaeya and Jean cleared a table for dinner. Lumine, who had never seen the alchemist turn art to life before, watched Albedo's process in fascination.
Lisa moved to stand beside her. "Dinner and a show," she mused, reaching out to rearrange a bit of holly that had slipped behind the young woman's ear. "Quite the production you've put together tonight, cutie."
Lumine's cheeks reddened in the candlelight.
"Yippee~!" Over at the table, Paimon cheered the presentation of their feast. "Sticky honey roast, and sautéed matsutake, and fragrant mashed potatoes! That's what Paimon says Yule is all about—lots of good food and good company! Come on, let's eat!"
Good food and good company. Lisa settled into her seat and smiled as Lumine handed her the last of her cutlery. Neither the food nor the company had been expected, but she wouldn't spurn Lord Barbatos's blessing.
After a short thanksgiving, the Knights—plus honorary guests—tucked in to the finest Yule feast that Lisa had ever experienced. By the time the platters made their rounds, she had to acknowledge that their food was scarcely lukewarm; and there were the occasional tense looks exchanged in the hiatuses between conversations. Even so, Lisa couldn't remember the last time her library had felt so warm.
She cast a sideward glance at Lumine, giggling blithely at something Kaeya had said. When the outlander had asked her about the festival, she hadn't mentioned the Mondstadter custom of bringing Yuletide gifts to loved ones. Had Lumine learned of it elsewhere? Or had this precious offering sprung naturally to the young woman's mind?
Somehow, Lisa wouldn't be surprised if it had.
After dinner, the party went their separate ways. Albedo excused himself to clean up in the lab, and Lisa walked Jean to the door.
"I'm going to the cathedral," Jean admitted, sweeping her winter cloak around her shoulders. She offered Lisa the hint of an abashed smile. "Compline starts soon."
And Sister Barbara will think it a gift from Barbatos when she sees you in the front pew, hanging on her every note.
Lisa folded her arms. It was getting colder in the library as the evening wore on. "Barbatos guide you," she said with a nod. "Give my regards to your sister."
Jean smiled. "I will. Thank you, Lisa."
Once the Acting Grand Master had departed, the library suddenly seemed very quiet. Lisa turned to survey her domain in the dying candlelight.
Paimon was in a state of insensible bliss, drooling upon an empty serving platter. One could say much the same of Sir Kaeya—who had dispatched the entire bottle of dandelion wine himself, in the end—only he had dropped off on Diluc's shoulder. For his part, the redhead seemed to have resigned himself to his suffering tonight. He was flipping through one of the Knights' old files, actively ignoring his adopted brother's snoring.
Lisa left them to it. Somehow, for all his show of scorn for the Favonius order, she had a hunch that Diluc wouldn't have been anywhere else this Yule.
The librarian approached where Lumine sat alone beneath a dark window, tracing her fingers against the frost-laced glass. The outlander's gaze was as distant as the pale midwinter moon.
"Where's home for you tonight, cutie?"
Lumine started, glancing up. "Oh— I, uh, we've been staying at the cathedral. Sister Barbara offered us—"
Lisa pressed a finger against the warmth of the young woman's lips, silencing her. "Wrong answer," she said softly.
Lumine went pink. "Just being with everyone tonight felt like being home again," she babbled. " You make Mondstadt feel like home. You always have."
"Then why not make yourself at home?" Lisa reached out a gloved hand, twining her fingers with Lumine's own. "Come. I'll make us a pot of tea downstairs, and we can have ourselves a cozy little chat."
"But what about..." Lumine peeked over the librarian's shoulder at her remaining guests.
Lisa chuckled, "Master Diluc used to be our Cavalry Captain. I trust he can see Sir Kaeya to his quarters before he leaves. And if you're worried about your little companion..." She tapped a finger against her lips as if she'd been struck by sudden realization. "...My, I do believe this is the first time I've had you all to myself, is it not?"
Lumine's eyes went round. "Oh," she said.
And then, before Lisa could get a word in edgewise, the outlander stood on tiptoe and pressed their lips together. It was a quick kiss, warm and innocent, and the impulsivity of it had Lumine blushing as she stepped away and grabbed at Lisa's hand.
"Let's go, then," she said breathlessly. "Let's go home together."
- end -
A/N: Constructive feedback is always appreciated! :)