Content Warning: Stalking, Discussion of sexual assault
It was after midnight now.
Mondstadt wasn't known for its alleys, but they did exist—and the ones that did were nestled far into the castle walls, always coming to a dead end against grey stone weathered smooth by rain and age. Barbara hadn't intended to leave the Angel's Share this way, but her skin had prickled when she saw the way the man was looking at her from across the room.
Just the price of fame, she had assured herself. Like how Jean always says.
She had turned down Diluc's offer of an escort, citing a quick walk too far out of his way home. But as the shadow behind her had gained ground, she found herself breathing heavier, wishing she had Diluc next to her.
"Come on, Barbara! I just wanna talk!"
Drunk. She had ignored his calls down three streets now before accidentally trapping herself here in a panic. The man was slurring his words as he approached, hands out in front of him, palms up. He was making a 'come hither' motion with his fingers. Barbara's stomach was in her feet.
"I have to get back to the Cathedral," she said, her voice stronger than she felt as the taste of copper flooded her mouth.
"Nah!" the man said easily, as if they were old friends. "Wouldn't you rather come home with me? I've got a nice place! Nice big kitchen, nice big bed—"
"Don't touch me!" Barbara tried to withdraw further. He was so close now she could smell the wine seeping out his pores. But the assailant laughed.
"What are you gonna do? Sing me a little song?"
"I'll scream!"
Too late—she was against the wall, and he was bigger than her, pinning her against the cold stone. His breath was hot against her neck as she pushed her cheek against the stone, refusing to look at his face. She was trembling, the terror screaming at her to run, to fight, to get away, anything to be out from underneath the crushing force of the drunk. He leaned against her, pinning her back against the stone of the walls as his mouth neared her ear. Barbara opened her mouth to scream as his hand went to her exposed thigh.
"But who will hear you?" he hissed as his other hand went over her mouth.
"Ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Barbara could have melted in her relief. Standing at the mouth of the alley was a silhouette, lit from behind by the streetlight. A cape fluttered behind just so. In her daze, she wondered if the figure was flapping it himself.
"Hey, we're just having a little fun," the drunk said, his hand now clutching her thigh. His nails were sharp against her skin, and she whimpered. "Mind your business."
"Unfortunately," the figure said, stepping forward, "the deaconess is my business."
Venti. The bard's shape was clearer now as he approached, hands crossed over his chest, lyre swinging easily at his hip.
The assailant laughed.
"Isn't it past your bedtime, kid? Leave the grownups to their—"
Thump.
Barbara's knee met her attacker's groin in a fit of instinct. The man groaned, crumpling to the floor. She tried to skirt past him, leaping easily over his arm. But as she slipped past, a hand grabbed her ankle. She yelped as she went down, falling against an abandoned crate. She wailed, clutching her now burning wrist. But her fear made her delirious as she kicked down at the hand with her other foot. A jet of water appeared from her hand, aimed blindly at the floor. Suddenly, the pressure released and she scampered towards the exit, the bottom of her stockings soaked.
From behind, the crunch of falling boxes and snapping wood chased her. Venti's hand twisted as his commanded anemo knocked the last box over, smacking the man on the head.
When she reached the bard, she collapsed against him, shaking.
"Are you okay?" he asked, arms coming up protectively around her. But Barbara was sobbing now, every inch of her freezing with adrenaline. "Let's get you home, okay?"
"No!" Barbara wailed. "I don't want anyone to see me like this!" Venti's hand went up and down her back as he led her away from the alley, half-dragging her in her stupor. "I don't want anyone to know."
"It's okay!" Venti said when they were a reasonable distance from the alley. "Barbara, it's okay. It's not your fault."
Still, the tears were falling. After a moment, Barbara felt Venti move against her, pushing her back against a wall and leaning over her. She froze, hands gripping his waist, prepared to strike again. But a few yards away, Guy passed, his armor glinting in the moonlight.
"We have to tell Jean," Venti whispered against her. Barbara could smell the wine on his breath, but now it was comforting. Barbara desperately wanted a drink herself. She wilted as he pulled away from her.
"You can't," Barbara moaned, whipping her eyes. "They'll never let me leave the Cathedral again!"
"Then I'll tell her."
"But—"
"I won't tell her it was you. Just that there's someone waiting for an arrest in the alley. Okay?"
Barbara nodded and made a quiet noise of agreement.
"I don't want anyone to see me like this," she said again, her voice stronger this time.
"Okay. Do you trust me?"
Barbara nodded, leaning against his frame.
"Hold on."
Instinctively, Barbara's arms went around the bard's neck, and after a moment, the ripping of the wind through her hair startled her. She gripped Venti tighter. He was holding her, too, albeit awkwardly—unsure of where to put his arms, the bard had opted for slightly higher than her waist, but not too high.
Just as quickly as it had disappeared, Barbara felt her feet touch tile. They were on the roof of the Cat's Tail now. The wind current that had carried them disappeared into the wind.
"Stay here," Venti said, helping Barbara sit. "I'll be right back."
"Okay," she whispered, willing herself to release her white-knuckled grip on Venti's shirt. In a flash, the bard was gone, leaping over rooftops, his glider slipping in and out of its holder as he headed to the Knights of Favonius headquarters.
Barbara didn't know how long she had waited before he returned—it had felt like a blink and an eternity all at once.
"Miss me?" Venti asked as he folded his glider once more. But Barbara just stared at him. She was tired and afraid, still trembling from the encounter. The bard helped her up, taking her hand.
"Do you want to walk, or are you okay to glide?" he asked. Below, the footsteps of four guards were followed by angry silhouettes, the shadow of their swords flitting against the cobbled streets.
"I can walk," Barbara said. Venti nodded, and instantly, another wind current appeared. Barbara's heels clicked as they hit the street, and she immediately set off. Venti hurried after her, trying to keep up with her stride.
"You don't need to escort me," she finally said, pulling on her pigtail. She was breathing hard now—for the first time in her life, her coping mechanism was not helping. How many 30 second intervals would it take for her to calm down?
"I know," Venti said. "But Diluc cut me off, and I figured I'd go sit on the Barbatos statue for a while. You know, enjoy the moonlight? So we're headed the same way, anyway."
Barbara looked up; the moon was at its zenith, full and round in the sky. She pretended Venti hadn't lied to her, grateful for his company.
"Does that—"
"Happen often?" Barbara sighed. The truth was, she was used to it. But Venti had already done too much for her tonight. She flinched as the shadow of a rat crossed in front of them.
"I'm not asking to make small talk," Venti said, cutting off Barbara's train of thought. "I know you're more popular than I in the Mondstadt music circuit, but I never thought it was that bad."
"You mean, people don't chase you down alleys for a chance to feel you up?"
"I guess it helps that I look fifteen," Venti conceded.
"Your puffy pants certainly give off that impression," Barbara agreed. Venti snorted at her.
"I'll have you know that this is the leading style for all modern bards in Teyvat."
"I'll be sure to make a note of that," Barbara laughed. "And thank you. For saving me," she said as they approached the Mondstadt stairs. Venti grabbed her hand, stopping her.
"Anything for a devoted follower of Barbatos," he said with a flourish, his cape flying out behind him. Barbara braced herself, prepared this time as the wind roared again below her, placing them at the top of the stairs.
"I hate stairs," Venti said with a smile. Barbara returned it.
They walked a little further, approaching the statue of Barbatos.
"Can I interest you in a gander at the city?" Venti asked, gesturing up. "Maybe it'll help you calm down before you go to bed?"
"No. Thank you for the offer, though, Venti."
The bard chuckled.
Suddenly overcome, she fell into Venti's arms, squeezing him around the waist. She cursed the tears pricking her eyes as his hands came up, pulling her tightly against him.
"One night I'll get you up there, I swear on m—Barbatos."
"Maybe. Thank you."
"You've already thanked me twice," he whispered.
"Once isn't enough." Barbara kissed his cheek. "Good night, Venti."
"I'll see you around, Deaconess," he said, releasing her from his arms. She nodded.
"May the wind lead you," she said, turning on her heel and hurrying to the Cathedral.
And Venti watched as her bobbing pigtails disappeared into the church, wondering where the heat creeping up his neck had come from.
Really been feeling Venbara lately. Do you think I should continue, or leave this as a one-shot? Let me know in the comments!
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