A certain bard doesn't appreciate Aether's new wine collection

Chapter 4 – "In Vino Veritas… and Trouble"

The warm golden glow of Angel's Share spilled out into the streets of Mondstadt, laughter and music rolling with the breeze like the scent of aged oak and crushed berries. Inside, the tavern was lively—packed with off-duty knights, merchants, and locals savoring the comforts of good drink and better company.

Perched atop a half-empty wine barrel near the hearth, Venti sang the final notes of a whimsical ballad. His fingers danced across his lyre strings, light as wind, as he spun the tale of a traveling dragon who disguised himself as a goose to woo the Archon of Spring. His audience, delightfully tipsy, roared with laughter and applause.

A man from the crowd, flushed and grinning, raised his mug and shouted, "That was worth a glass of the good stuff! Charles—get this bard a drink!"

From behind the counter, Charles chuckled and poured a generous glass of red, sliding it toward Venti with practiced ease. "On the house, for the performance," he said.

Venti took a dramatic bow from atop his barrel. "Ah, Mondstadt—city of freedom and generosity!" He swung his legs over, landed lightly, and scooped up the glass. With a pleased sigh, he swirled the wine and took a sip. "Still tastes like poetry and sunshine."

He leaned lazily against the bar, enjoying the calm, when a familiar voice—smooth, amused, and far too deliberate—rose just above the crowd's din.

"You wouldn't believe it," Kaeya was saying, seated not far away at a table near the window. He wasn't alone—Diona sat across from him, arms crossed, tail twitching with annoyance. "I visited Aether's Serenitea Pot recently…"

Venti's ears twitched.

Kaeya continued, swirling his own glass, "Nearly the entire wine cabinet was stocked with Fontaine bottles. Not a single Mondstadt vintage in sight. Can you imagine?"

Venti froze, mid-sip. His fingers tightened around the stem of his glass.

Diona groaned, slapping her forehead. "You're still going on about that? Maybe Aether just doesn't like your fancy labels."

Kaeya smirked. "Or maybe someone's influenced him. A certain former Archon, perhaps? With dramatic tastes and a flair for theatrics?"

Venti blinked once, then twice. Slowly, the glass came down.

"…Fontaine wine?" he whispered, as if the words tasted bitter. "Replacing our vintages?"

He placed his glass on the counter and straightened, suddenly very alert. The breeze outside picked up.

"Charles," he called, his voice calm but dangerous in its clarity. "I'll be taking my leave. Urgently."

"Again?" Charles sighed. "Do I even want to know why?"

"I must go right a terrible wrong," Venti declared, already grabbing his lyre. "A sacred trust has been broken. A wine rack has betrayed its roots!"

Diona rolled her eyes. "Oh, for the love of—"

But Venti was already gone, the tavern door swinging wide as the wind whooshed past. Outside, the streetlamps flickered as the breeze swirled around him, lifting his cape. With purpose and song in his heart—and a righteous grudge in his soul—he vanished into the night, headed straight for the Serenitea Pot.

Kaeya raised his glass to the empty doorway and smiled faintly. "Right on schedule.

Outside the Windward Manor, everything was quiet and serene—the koi pond shimmered, the cherry blossoms swayed gently, and a new wooden sign had been installed just beside the front path:

"NOTICE: All chili peppers—especially those imported from Liyue—must be declared and examined prior to entry. No exceptions. By decree of the Lady of the House."

"Repeat incidents will result in culinary exile."

A tiny cartoon of Gooba breathing fire had been sketched in the corner, clearly added after the fact.

Tubby floated nearby, humming softly to herself as she inspected the flowerbeds. That is, until a sudden gust of wind scattered her petals and ruffled her ribbon.

She turned just in time to see a swirling breeze approach the main steps at alarming speed. Her eyes widened. "Hold it right there—state your business!"

"A sacred errand!" came the sing-song voice on the wind. "The wine rack is under siege, and justice must be served!"

"Wait—wait! Please use the guest platform—!"

But it was too late.

The front doors burst open with theatrical force, thunder echoing down the polished hallways.

Venti stepped inside dramatically, hands on his hips, cloak fluttering.

"I have come," he declared, voice loud and accusatory, "to confront the scoundrel who dares to corrupt the heart and tastebuds of my dear friend Aether!"

He expected to see Furina surrounded by frilly curtains and wine glasses—probably lecturing Aether on stemware etiquette," he muttered under his breath, but instead, the room held only one tall figure: Neuvillette.

Venti froze.

"I was not expecting you," Neuvillette said, closing a book placing it back on a shelf. His voice was calm, but his eyes were cold. "Barbatos."

Venti swallowed. "Ah… recognized me, did you?"

"Easily."

Venti scratched the back of his head, backing toward the nearest exit. "I—uh, heard about the wine situation. Just checking in on our favorite traveler. You know. For cultural safety."

Neuvillette didn't blink. "This is no tavern. You will find no Anemo prayers answered here."

Venti winced. "Okay, harsh but fair."

Neuvillette said nothing for a long moment. Then:

"Furina has been… proactive in redecorating."

Venti gulped.

Neuvillette's stare didn't soften.

"And if you've come to stir chaos, I suggest you reconsider."

"…Would you like some dandelion wine?" Venti asked meekly.

Neuvillette's brows knit, his tone deep and firm, like the pressure before rain. "I do not find wine politics amusing, usurper. Nor your reckless entrance into a domain that is not yours to judge—"

But just as he took a step forward, preparing to make his full stance known—

A door clicked open nearby.

"Oh, Neuvillette, I finished reviewing the permits and—" Furina stepped into the hall, a porcelain tray in her hands, carrying a carafe of chilled water and a matching tea set. She blinked when she saw Venti.

"Oh! We have company?"

Venti turned immediately, his smile snapping back into place. "A pleasure to meet you, Lady Furina! I hope I'm not intruding too rudely."

Furina blinked, a bit caught off guard by the sudden flattery. "Well… not exactly."

Neuvillette stepped aside, gesturing politely. "This is Venti, a bard from Mondstadt. Aether's… friend."

Furina set the tray down. "Aether's friend? Well, anyone who knows him is welcome here, of course."

The three of them sat. Neuvillette poured himself water, watching Venti with unblinking scrutiny.

Trying to defuse the tension, Furina leaned forward. "So, Venti. What is Mondstadt like these days? Any recent festivals? Songs I should know about?"

Venti lit up. "Ah, the Windblume Festival just ended! Love was in the air, songs on every breeze. Mondstadt is always bustling with music, wine, and stories."

"And gossip," Neuvillette muttered under his breath.

Furina chuckled. "I do miss the simplicity of festivals. Fontaine is… not so carefree."

Venti nodded, relaxing a bit. "That's why I came. I wanted to see the beautiful chaos Aether's friends warned me about."

Venti turned the conversation. "And what of Fontaine? What's changed?"

Furina's eyes softened a bit. "Everything. Fontaine has changed from top to bottom. The old ideals... they're gone now. We're rebuilding."

"A new era," Neuvillette added with quiet gravity.

There was a pause. Then Furina tilted her head with a smile—curious, playful, but sharp. "Tell me, Venti. What do you know of Barbatos?"

The question dropped like a pebble into still water.

Venti blinked. "Barbatos?" he echoed, instantly alert. "Well, I've heard he's quite charming. Witty. Likes music, naps, and wine—oh, and vanishing when things get too serious."

Neuvillette's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Furina sighed, swirling her tea. "Well… at least in Fontaine, we don't have to worry about gods anymore."

Her tone was light. Her eyes were not.

Neuvillette remained silent, though something flickered behind his calm facade—ancient and deep.

Venti looked between them. His grin faltered just a fraction, his posture adjusting ever so slightly. "I've heard… things changed."

Furina nodded. "Drastically. Permanently."

A beat passed.

Then she sat straighter, her expression proud yet quiet. She looked toward Neuvillette and said, "But I suppose… it's not all loss. In the end, a dragon reclaimed what was his. That, at least, feels right."

Neuvillette didn't respond aloud, but his gaze met hers, and his next sip of water came with a hint less tension in his shoulders.

Venti gave a soft, knowing nod. "That's rare… and worth more than most kingdoms ever know."

The room fell into thoughtful quiet for a time. The clink of tea cups, the faint rustling of wind through the garden.

Then Venti leaned back and stretched his arms above his head with an exaggerated sigh. "So serious! You Fontaine types really know how to turn teatime into a courtroom drama."

Furina raised a brow. "Says the bard who stormed in like an offended playwright."

"It was quite the entrance," Neuvillette muttered.

Venti struck a pose. "It's called flair. You're lucky I didn't arrive with a thunderstorm and a choir."

Furina shot him a side glance. "Did you consider it?"

"I absolutely did," he said proudly. "But I figured the paperwork would be extensive."

Neuvillette didn't look up. "It would have been."

Venti clutched his chest theatrically. "Tragic! Denied my artistic freedom once again!"

Furina laughed—clear and genuine.

"You'll survive, bard. Not everything needs to be an opera."

"Says the woman who declared 'we don't have to worry about gods anymore' over tea," he teased.

"That was thematic flourish," she said with a sniff.

"No, it wasn't," Neuvillette stated plainly.

Furina and Venti exchanged a look—and both burst out laughing.

— Some time later…

The sun had begun to dip below the clouds of the Serenitea Pot, casting long shadows across the gardens and bathing the manor in a soft golden glow.

Inside, laughter echoed through the halls.

Furina and Venti were now sprawled across the same lounge set that had once hosted solemn debates and serious introspection. Papers, books, and half-finished bottles of cider lay scattered around them—alongside an upturned trivia card game they had abandoned after Venti started inventing his own answers.

The bard leaned over a globe of Teyvat, lazily spinning it with one finger.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I got chased out of Liyue for—wait, was it a misunderstanding or performance art?"

Furina lay belly-down on the couch, chin in her hands, legs kicking lazily behind her. "You told me twice. Once as a poem. Once as an opera. Neither had the same ending."

"That's called bardic license!" Venti announced, popping a grape into his mouth. "History is a song. Every verse is up for interpretation."

Furina groaned. "You're exhausting."

"You adore me."

"…Unfortunately," she muttered, flinging a cushion at his head.

Their laughter filled the space. In that moment, they weren't symbols of ancient power or political change—just two eccentric souls who understood each other in a language somewhere between sarcasm and sincerity.

— A little while after…

At the edge of the realm, near the travel platform, Venti adjusted the leather satchel slung over his shoulder. The bottles inside clinked—two from Mondstadt, two from Fontaine.

Furina stood beside him, arms crossed, doing her best not to smirk.

"Two bottles of Mondstadt's wind-kissed vintage, and two of Fontaine's finest reserve," she said. "To ensure fairness."

Venti pressed a hand to his chest like she'd knighted him. "A gift worthy of bardsong! May the bubbles of Fontaine and the breeze of Mondstadt blend in eternal harmony."

"Just don't mix them in the same cup."

"No promises!"

She rolled her eyes. "At least let Aether taste them before you turn them into punch."

"Cross my heart." Venti winked. "This was fun, Your Honor."

"I'm not a judge anymore."

"You judged my singing five times today."

"It was off-key four of them."

He gave her a mock bow. "Then I shall consider myself acquitted by grace."

The platform began to hum with teleportation energy. Venti stepped onto it, turned once more, and offered a bright grin.

"Let's do this again sometime."

"Next time," Furina said, "knock."

With a laugh and a swirling breeze that carried faint notes of lyre music, the bard vanished.

Furina remained where she was for a moment, arms folded, expression calm.

"…And he didn't even break anything," she whispered, mildly impressed.

She turned toward the manor, already thinking about what blend she'd open next—and whether it would pair better with poetry or politics.

The scent of spring flowers lingered.

"…Goodbye, Barbatos," she murmured.

Behind her, Neuvillette adjusted his sleeves. "You knew?"

Furina didn't turn. "Aether and Paimon mentioned him more than once. And you weren't exactly subtle."

Neuvillette nodded faintly. "I see."

She faced him then, walking to his side. "You know… I rather liked seeing him here. Not as a god. Just a bard. A bit of wind with a story in his pocket."

They walked together across the marble path toward the portal stone. As they reached it, Furina glanced back once.

"Still… we should keep an eye on him."

"Because he is a god?" Neuvillette asked.

"No." Her eyes sparkled. "Because he's Aether's friend."

She placed a hand on the device, its hum rising beneath her fingertips.

"So if you ever have to judge him one day… at least offer him a drink."

Neuvillette arched a brow. "By the way… did the potion from Sigewinne help with the chili incident?"

Furina winced theatrically. "My tongue still felt like it was made of lava for two days… but yes, I can finally enjoy tea again without weeping."

"Good," Neuvillette said evenly. "I wasn't sure how to address that in the paperwork."

"Next time," Furina huffed, "Gooba's gifts go straight to the vault until cleared for consumption."

Neuvillette allowed himself the faintest smirk. "A wise decision."

The portal flared to life before them, soft light spilling across the marble path.

"Come," Furina said. "Let's go home."

When the portal light flared and swept over them both, his voice answered softly, just above the breeze:

"I'll consider it."

And in a flash, they were gone—returning to Fontaine, to rain and theater, to the nation where dragons no longer bowed to gods.

Epilogue – A Glimpse of Trouble to Come…

Far from the quiet elegance of the Serenitea Pot, the wilds of Natlan buzzed with life and heat.

Nestled within a volcanic ridge, surrounded by steaming cliffs and vibrant red ferns, a natural hot spring glowed with mineral-rich water. Steam curled through the air in lazy spirals, the bubbling spring infused with faint scents of mountain herbs and amber.

Aether rested against a smooth stone at the edge of the pool, eyes half-closed, his arms stretched behind his head. The warm water shimmered around him, easing months of tension from battle-worn muscles.

Across from him, Paimon floated on her back with her arms spread, lazily drifting along the surface like a bobbing flower.

"This," she sighed, "is the best decision we've made all week."

"I'll admit," Aether replied, letting out a long breath, "I kind of forgot what relaxing felt like."

A splash sounded nearby.

Mualani—among the first friends they'd made in Natlan—laughed softly as she climbed back into the spring..."That's because you two never stop running. You came here to rest. So, rest."

"Hard to argue with that," Aether said.

Beside her, Kachina, their first Natlanese friend, came from behind and, handed him a carved wooden ladle filled with a sweet-smelling drink. "Dragonflower nectar. It'll help you relax." She gave one to Paimon too.

Aether accepted it with a grateful nod. "Thanks."

Not far off, Kinich floated effortlessly, eyes closed, arms behind his head—enjoying the silence like it was a reward he'd earned twice over. Ajaw had left him alone for a while, and he was using the opportunity to enjoy a rare moment of rest..He too had a drink resting beside him.

As the group sank deeper into relaxation, conversation faded into quiet murmurs. Fireflies drifted overhead, their glow casting soft halos over the steamy spring.

Aether exhaled slowly, shoulders sinking into the water. His eyes followed a drifting cloud of steam as it curled upward toward the moon.

As Aether took another sip of the dragonflower nectar, his gaze drifted toward the glowing stars above. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

Mualani noticed. "Something on your mind?"

He shook his head softly. "Just thinking about someone. She's probably reading or bossing around the cats back home."

Paimon grinned. "He means Furina."

Kinich let out a low whistle. "Ah, the Fontaine firebrand. You really are fearless, huh?"

Aether only smiled and closed his eyes again. The warmth of the water couldn't compare to the comfort of knowing she'd be waiting.

None of them noticed the faint rustle from Aether's bag—sitting a few paces away from the spring, tucked between his boots and his shirt.

None of them noticed the shimmering pulse of light from within, or the faint chirp of a curious creature.

The Little One—a Tepetlisaur hatchling no taller than a satchel—had snuck into the camp hours ago, nose twitching, eyes wide and gleaming. Fascinated by Aether's belongings (especially the ones that glowed), the creature had pawed through the Traveler's tools and trinkets with growing excitement.

And now?

Aether's teleportation device clicked faintly as the Little One's claws tapped it—once, twice, then pressed.

The crystal pulsed.

Aether shifted slightly in the water, eyes still closed.

The device hummed to life.

The Little One, startled but thrilled, yelped as a soft light enveloped it—and with a curious squeak and a pop, it vanished in a flash.

Back in the hot spring, Paimon sipped her juice while floating lazily by Aether's head.

"Hey," she murmured sleepily, "did you hear something?"

Aether cracked an eye open. "Hmm?"

She blinked, then shrugged. "Eh. Probably just a bird."

And with that, the steam rose higher, the stars turned overhead, and far across the realms, a new visitor arrived—small, scaly, and completely unsupervised—in a peaceful garden filled with koi, cats, and unsuspecting tea-loving residents.

Trouble… had entered the teapot once more.

End of chapter 4

Thank you for reading this new chapter, i am open to suggestions!