Title: Withering

A/N: For the Fleurette zine! My second favourite ship in Genshin, just the sheer angst of Dainsleif and Lumine (either with her as the traveler or as the abyss twin ahhh). It's interesting to see how definitely I write Lumine now compared to here. Or maybe that's because this is Abyss Lumine as opposed to Traveler Lumine?

Summary: Lumine used to care for even the smallest of flowers crossing their path. Now, she stepped on them without a second glance. –Dainsleif, Lumine, and the slow wear-down of hope

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i. Lilies

The first time, Dainsleif was caught unawares. His mind had been preoccupied, considering his new travelling companion Lumine, considering why he was even journeying with her in the first place. Home was far behind, their destination unknown, and for a man who liked facts and control, this was an unusual situation for him.

He had never been a man of passion, let alone one that followed his gut instincts.

He still didn't know what possessed him to take her hand and follow her across the world.

"Watch out!" Lumine barked, her small hand wrapping around his arm. Despite her short stature, her grip was firm, and she jerked him back.

It was the suddenness of it more than anything else that halted Dainsleif's steps. He glanced at her white-knuckled grip, at her slowly relaxing expression, and then at their surroundings. They were walking through a field, the sky as clear as can be. Dainsleif could see for leagues and there wasn't so much as a hilichurl here, let alone an actual danger. Certainly nothing to provoke such a panicked response.

"What is it?" he asked, perplexed.

Ignoring him, Lumine let go and crouched down. Her white skirt trailed on the ground, collecting dirt, but she didn't seem to mind. "Oh, that was a close one," she sighed, her expression softening.

"Close?" Her response made even less sense. Dainsleif lowered his gaze, following her line of sight until he spotted a small, white lily blooming on the road. "The lily?"

Lumine rolled her eyes and wrinkled her nose at him. "Don't act like it's worthless." She reached out, running a finger across its petals. "Isn't it cute?"

That wasn't a word he would have used. "It's a sturdy plant. It would have survived."

"Or it might not have. Better safe than sorry, right?" She smiled softly, getting up. Lumine swiped her skirt, shaking off the dust. "Aether would have agreed with me. When he wakes up, I'll show him, and you'll see."

He didn't doubt that. From what little he had seen of her brother, they had seemed like two peas in a pod. They were both far too naive for this world at war. Even this place, as untouched as it was, would see the battle fires. The idea of this place surviving as is was preposterous.

Dainsleif scoffed, "It might die before then."

Lumine pinched his arm and glared. Her nails dug into his skin. "Don't be such a downer. It'll have kids. Just you wait, next time we come here, there'll be a field of flowers."

He shook her off. "We'll see."

ii. Cyclamens

The second time, Dainsleif was prepared. You couldn't travel with someone for months without learning their idiosyncrasies and what he had learned about Lumine was she had a penchant for spotting and protecting flowers. Despite how sharp her tongue was, her heart was soft.

"Careful," Lumine warned, her hand resting on his arm. The fact that she didn't yank him meant she had learned something about him too.

It was an oddly pleasant feeling.

Dainsleif had already noticed the red cyclamens on the path. They swayed in the breeze, their blooms reaching for the sun. In this forest, the sunlit path was the only place for them to do so, the massive trees lining the dirt road barring the sky from small plants otherwise.

That didn't make it any less of an annoyance. "They shouldn't grow on paths."

"Plants grow where they want," Lumine chided. Despite her playful tone and mocking smile, her eyes were distant. She had barely looked at the plant, her eyes already on the faraway exit and, further than that, the distant horizon.

"Lumine?" he broached tentatively, not sure how to handle her new, pensive mood. It came and went, these days, and Dainsleif had yet to figure out the right words to say. Or if there even were any—it was hard to wipe away the things they'd seen.

Her eyes flicked to him, then the flower. There was something bitter, something exhausted about her expression. Quietly, she asked, "How long do you think we'll be travelling?"

Dainsleif frowned. What response would relax her? What would make her smile? He felt as tongue-tied around her as he had when they'd first met, though for the opposite reason. Before, he hadn't wanted to talk. Now he did but had no idea what to say. "As long as you want to."

Her head bowed slightly, and he knew that wasn't the answer she was looking for. "That's not what I meant…It's just…" Lumine gripped her dress, wrinkling the cotton fabric. Her knuckles turned white. "Aether hasn't woken up and we haven't found a potion or a spell to do it. Instead, we've…"

She trailed off, curling into herself. Something in him ached at the sight. With every step they'd taken away from her slumbering twin, with every Archon and secret of the world they'd uncovered, Lumine's smile had dimmed. Dainsleif could barely remember how she'd smiled when they'd encountered that lily long ago, the bright innocence of it.

"There's still a few places left to check," Dainsleif murmured reassuringly, his hand curling at his side into a tight fist. "You never know."

"We've looked a lot," she mumbled, sounding defeated.

He had never been one for false hopes, but they crowded his throat, almost choking him. Hesitantly, he reached out to touch her. "Maybe he's awake now."

"Maybe. It'd be funny if he kept waking up when I was gone, only to fall asleep when I got back." Despite her words, Lumine didn't laugh.

Dainsleif didn't know what to say. His hand fell to his side, limp and useless. Glancing down at the plant, he said, "I'll transplant it."

That caught her attention. She jerked her head up, staring at him confused. "What?"

He gestured at the red blooms. "The flower. You want Aether to see it, right?"

"Oh." She smiled weakly. "Thanks."

iii. Purple hyacinths

The next time, Dainsleif waited for Lumine to say something. A purple hyacinth sprouted tall in the center of the road, dozens of flowers curling into one another until it looked like an elaborate hair bun, the kind royalty used to wear. It was impossible to miss.

Lumine said nothing. She didn't even show any sign of stopping. Before she could step on it, Dainsleif shot out his arm, barring her from going forward. It was a jarring reversal. "There's a flower."

"Oh." Lumine looked down blankly. Her expression remained flat. "There is."

He didn't like her response. He hadn't liked it for a while now. There were many things Dainsleif had expected on their journey, but Lumine changing or his feelings on that matter hadn't been one of them. They should have stopped journeying a long time ago. They should have turned back when the darkness crept in.

And now it was too late. They would see this to its end, whatever it might be.

Still, just like those flowers reaching hopelessly for the sun, he couldn't help but try one last time to bring back her smile. "I'll transplant it."

"Is there any need?" she asked bluntly, watching him with tired, dark eyes.

He couldn't read her. Not anymore, not for a while. Had he ever been able to understand her? Sometimes, Dainsleif wasn't certain they'd ever connected, if they weren't just two ships in the night, passing each other by.

The ache in his chest spread. He pushed the feeling down, smothering it. Dainsleif had never been one for false hopes, but he clung to them now like a lifeline. If they saved her brother, she'd smile again. If they finished their journey, they could rest.

If. If. If.

Quietly, he tried again. "For Aether."

"For Aether." Lumine laughed, a jagged thing.

And then she stepped on the flower and walked on.

iv. Lilies

The last time, Dainsleif had been caught unawares. There was a familiar hand around his arm, a familiar tug to keep him in place. It was sunny, the sky above them clear, and the field was as broad as the eye could see. If he closed his eyes, he'd be at the beginning of his journey, still confused and uncertain, still naive and hopeful.

Yet, reality beckoned, forcing him to put away those childish thoughts. The hand on his arm was masculine and broad. The voice calling him was deep and excited.

"Look!" Aether chirped, his eyes bright as he pointed at the path in front of them.

The only thing he shared with his sister was the innocence in his expression.

Dainsleif looked down. A small flower poked its way out of the dirt. Even without seeing its leaves, he knew it was a lily. Even without seeing the bud, he knew it was white.

History, he found, had a way of repeating itself. There were only circles, repetitive and unending.

"That was close!" Aether sighed, relieved. He didn't seem to notice Dainsleif's silence. "You almost stepped on it!"

"What's it doing all the way out here?" Paimon chirped, hovering low on the ground as she studied the tiny plant. "Doesn't it know it'll get stepped on?"

"Plants like to grow wherever they want to." Aether chuckled, crouching on the ground. His cape trailed in the dirt, but he didn't seem to mind. "It's so cute. I wish Lumine could see it, she really likes flowers."

Dainsleif could only stare. Truly, he was too much like Lumine. Even worse, he was following her footsteps across Teyvat, meeting Archon after Archon as he searched for her.

How long would it be till he lost his smile?

How long would it be before he broke too?

Was there any point to it all?

"I wonder what stories it could tell us." Aether patted the top of the plant, smiling happily. "Staying here by the road, watching people travel…"

"Plants can't see," Paimon pointed out, scoffing at the entire idea. She threw her hands in the air. "Next you'll be asking about its grandparents!"

"I wouldn't go that far!" Aether held his hands up in defence. Finally noticing Dainsleif's silence, he turned to him worriedly. "Dainsleif?"

The words were the same. The eyes were the same. A familiar ache spread across his chest. Dainsleif forced himself to speak. "It's nothing."

"If you say so…" Aether bounced to his feet, interlacing his hands behind his head. "I wonder how it got here."

Your sister, Dainsleif didn't say. Would Lumine laugh or cry that her wish came true?

The path ahead led to tragedy. He knew that, had already gone through it before. Still, there was one final act before their story ended, one final play he had to make. A last try to fix everything.

And maybe next time, Lumine and Aether would both be tugging him, reprimanding him for the flowers crushed in his wake.