if she were to be asked, she'd rather be called anything but. whatever lineage, bloodline, dynasty she used to belong to has already turned into ashes, forgotten in the annals of time and space. whatever their reason for calling her a royal escapes like an errant, wandering cat. right now, she is simply a traveler—or at least, that was what she once was before she and her brother were summoned by this world, a world they thought they had selected from the multitude of stars that evening some time ago.
if she had let aether select the star that night, would they have found themselves in this world? she doesn't know nor does she want to ponder on it for too long. all she knows is that this world, this nation, these people seem to want something from her, from them.
what it is, she's yet to find out.
in the meantime, she's allowed to explore as she pleases, travel as she so chooses. they're amicable, at least, polite and courteous and obliging of her every need. the joy in their expressions when they see her seems to be genuine and sincere, and they're more than willing to help look after her brother while he sleeps. a potential home on the surface, but that will require aether's input before she decides.
now, if only she stops getting lost in their palace.
their royal mage had advised her to wait for her escort; he'll come soon, he tells her. but she's been idle for too long that she can't help but look around and see what khaenri'ah has to offer. ]
Maybe if they gave me a map of their palace, I wouldn't need an escort ...
when dainsleif inquires, they tell him our new esteemed guest, and the question remains unanswered. the kingdom of khaenri'ah has always had its royals, all who he and his bloodline have served faithfully for millennia. at current, however, he knows there is no princess in their ranks, no daughter has been sired. he inquires, again, as to who this princess is.
they tell him, instead, he has been assigned her escort. it gives raise to a brow, and more questions: why has the twilight sword, the captain of the royal guard, been assigned escort? that, too, remains unanswered.
there's no mind or will to make an argument on it, and he, too, is left to wander. the difference, however, is that he knows the ins and outs of the palace. ]
You would still require a escort even if you had been given a map.
[ the words that come from behind their "esteemed guest" are not meant to hurt, nor a means of attack. it is a statement with arguments to back it up, and he stands there, watchful. the girl is short, hair blonde like his, with clothes that are not from khaenri'ah — nor, he notes, from any other of teyvat's nations.
khaenri'ahns are a welcoming people, the pride of humankind. they open their arms to any and all who wish to stay in their lands, underground where the sun just barely hits. they are not perfect by any means, do not have natural flora like mondstadt, for example, does. at times, he thinks, they might be too welcoming, and it falls on him, alongside his royal guards, to make sure their people are kept safe.
for now, their new guest is under his jurisdiction, and his judgment. ]
My name is Dainsleif. Knight Captain of the Royal Guards. I have been assigned your escort.
[ the voice surprises her, to say the least, and lumine had to stop herself from summoning her sword, reminded that she's in a place where weapons other than those of the guards would've been prohibited. it's a feat in itself, as there's usually no one who could catch her off-guard other than her twin brother. had she perhaps lowered her defenses that much since arriving in this world? to the point that she's inattentive to her own surroundings?
impossible.
she slowly turns around on her spot, her expression that of curiosity, as she faces a rather handsome face (aether would be disappointed in her, but she's sure he'd agree to the description, anyway). blond hair and eyes a bright shade of blue—she tries to pin a memory to that face, her head tilting to one side, certain that it's been mentioned before. but then, it didn't seem like she needed to.
a faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips at his introduction, the curve growing a fraction higher when she sees the look in his eyes. she can read suspicion from a mile away, after all. ]
To assign me the captain of the Royal Guard as my escort, I can only assume one of two things.
[ that she's truly an esteemed guest of this nation, or that she's under surveillance by the royal family and the mages despite their warm welcome prior. no wonder he's managed to catch by surprise; no one rises to such a position without any kind of skill. ]
That the king had taken pity on me getting consistently lost in the palace, or that he finally heard my request of seeing the gardens and sent me someone familiar with the way to it.
[ neither of those are genuine assumptions, he can tell. neither are true, either. if he were to make an assumption as well, he'd say that yes, it is because she is an esteemed guest, and who better to keep their new "princess" safe, sound, and well-accompanied if not their knight captain himself?
she doesn't give him a name back. it is, already, a strike in his mind. at three, he'd have half the mind to request an audience with their king to raise concerns on their new chosen princess.
he watches her, blue on gold. not khaenri'ahn-born in the least. ]
The gardens are this way. [ and he turns west, through halls and arches.
his steps are silent, as though measured. dainsleif does not find will to put their guest on trial as a means of hostility. he does it out of care and love for his people, because if they are all to be the amicable people many know khaenri'ahns to be, then he will take the role of their shield and sword. he will be sharp in every way possible — literally, figuratively, metaphorically.
he turns to look at their guest. ]
What has brought you here? [ what remains unasked, between the lines, is: why khaenri'ah, and not sumeru? liyue? why khaenri'ah, underground, so rarely blessed by the sun? ]
[ so maybe she should have given him her name first. but to be fair, she had assumed that her name was already given to him by his king; she can't imagine otherwise, counterproductive to guard a strange, nameless girl wandering around the palace.
in any case, lumine waits for his prompt, her smile sustained on her lips.
when he doesn't and simply turns around, starting his pace down the hallway, she lets out a quiet laugh and trails after him, heels clicking against the stone floor. he certainly is quite different from those she's met so far, not at all unfriendly but it's clear he doesn't trust her just yet. a good practice for the knight captain, if she were to be asked; if there's anyone who should be most apprehensive of her, it's him.
still, for someone who seems to mistrust her, he sure is kind, keeping his steps measured enough for her to easily catch up. perhaps teasing him might be a little bit mean.
at his inquiry, though, she nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders: ]
We were summoned here, it seems.
[ ... well, at least, that's what she was told, their fall to teyvat quite unusual to how they normally land in worlds. so it only makes sense that khaenri'ah is where she and her brother make their way towards. she'll helpfully continue, just so she doesn't sound even more suspect. ]
It seems that your mages or your king may have need of me and my brother, so here I am. Curious, isn't it?
[ the king would've had half the mind to do it. the guard that talked with him, however, failed to pass on to him that information, too eager to talk about their new princess. it could be a remark for later, when he realizes their little game of mouth-from-mouth information didn't end so well.
that is, however, for another time. at present, the girl is just "princess", their esteemed guest who hailed from afar. summoned, even. it is of no wonder their king think so highly of her.
the sigh that escapes dainsleif's throat is a quiet one. he is, at the end, still respectful of his king's decisions, but finds some questionable at best. this kind of information is one that would surely have been appropriate to tell him — not because he deigns himself worthy of being in the summoning room himself (he'd argue here, however, that it would be good for their sakes, in case something went wrong), but because he wouldn't have to be in this position.
an escort to someone he does not know, who does not come from their kingdom, who does not offer him her name. she is not an enemy quite yet. that judgment he would make at the end of the day at best. ]
Your brother? [ there's another one. great. he had only heard of a princess — was the boy not to their king's liking? ] Does he not share your penchant for visiting gardens?
[ the royal guard part of him worries here: the brother is not under his watch, then, whose is he? is he wandering the palace by himself? is he unwatched? why? how is it that suddenly he has so much work on his plate? ]
[ and what a heavy sigh that is he just sighed, she muses inwardly, quite intrigued as to which statement drew it out.
if she'd known that's how information is passed down from king to soldier in this place, she'd have a few words about it. but then, they'd be words she'd keep to herself, unwilling to meddle in palace affairs that don't involve her; it's enough that she's been dragged into this nation's politics and royalty.
still, her smile fades just a little at his question, and there's a bit of a pause before she responds to him, her gaze briefly turning distant. a moment later, she glances back at him, her smile returning on her lips. ]
He has a penchant for sleeping, I'm afraid.
[ though aether probably would've liked to see the garden, too. flowers that blossom underground, far away from the sun—it would've been a curiosity for her brother, one that he wouldn't hesitate to seek out just like her. ]
He's yet to stir from his sleep since our arrival in this world. [ it's not normal, but there's not much that she can do when he wouldn't rouse. ] Your king has assured me that I'll be informed the moment he wakes up.
[ a beat, as she peers at his face, eyes twinkling: ] Were you worried that he was left unattended and was currently running around the palace?
[ that, admittedly, gives him pause. she could be a talented actress: from the side, he cannot see the loss of light in golden eyes, but he does notice the falter of her smile. the brother, for all he knows, could be made up, a story she saw fit to tell the captain of the royal guards. it would be smart of her to do so, creating a second body that he would hypothetically have to worry about.
she does a good job at picking herself back up, and when she meets his gaze, he looks away. the judgment here is thus: she is not stupid. the likelihood of her knowing of his suspicions of her are high, and she knows, too, that he had worried about her brother, and the way he's potentially left unattended.
that does not earn her a strike. much of the opposite.
dainsleif does not reply just yet. a few more turns, then, and they are not outside the palace; there'd have no need to be. there is, after all, no sun outside — the difference here is that in this specific spot, between palace walls, there is a gap through layers and layers of stones and sand and marble. here, in this specific spot, there's a hint of sunshine during the day, and moonlight during the night. here, the king had said, we will build a garden. ]
The grass in Khaenri'ah is synthetic, [ he begins, arms crossed against his chest, ] as you might have noticed from the lack of natural sunlight. It's made with something we call the art of Khemia.
[ he's a escort, a tour-guide, and mindful not to give her too much information. ]
This is, however, one of the very few places in Khaenri'ah where the flora is real. The King and Queen made sure to keep the gap untouched and tended to so it never closes, and sunlight peeks at day. We have specialists that care for this garden so it never dies. [ it is, he thinks, a little too much work. ] Were you expecting a more impressive sight?
[ the way he averts his gaze is essentially an answer in itself, and lumine chuckles, allowing him the brief respite he needs from her teasing.
despite his attempts at keeping distance from her, he's quite honest, his face easily giving away the truth at a moment's notice. and while honesty is a good trait to have for any soldier, candidness would be bad for business worse comes to worst. then again, he probably has never dealt with a situation like this before, a situation like her.
lumine says nothing further too, letting silence settle between them until they arrive at the garden. it's nothing grand, nothing compared to some of the ones she's seen and been to during her travels. and yet, she finds herself drifting past him along its paths, fingers lightly brushing against pale petals.
she's never seen flowers like this, seemingly glowing in the dimness of the space as if they were stars. ]
Isn't it already impressive that they're thriving despite all odds? Just like everyone I've met so far in this world ...
[ sure, there might be gardeners tending to its growth and survival, but in order to do so, the plant itself has to be hardy as well. one can only do so much if the other refuses to live.
she crouches on the ground, studying one of the blossoms, unmindful if her skirt or scarf brushes against the dirt. ]
the truth of the matter is that he does not visit the gardens often. the knight captain of the royal guard has a busy schedule, guards to train, skills to perfect. he does not have time to sit still, and even if he had, he does not have the company that their "princess" provides him.
so the thought is, of course, unexpected. under the single ray of sunlight, her white and blue dress matches the flowers in such a perfect way, there'd be some, more romantic people who fancied waxing poetry on the most little things, who would dare to say he's the embodiment of their flowers. for a moment, he wonders, if that's another reason their king had fancied her so.
the thought, then, was this: the flowers would have looked good on her hair, as though that's where they belong.
he discards the thought immediately after. ]
Inteyvat. They're Khaenri'ah's national flower.
[ flowers that belong to no one but them, flowers that do not thrive outside their homeland. inteyvat, in some language or another, would be synonymous to homesickness. ]
You'll find them everywhere here, which means they do not require sunlight to thrive. [ a sigh, and then: ] It's likely the reason why they last only two weeks before wilting.
barely a droplet in the years of her lifespan, and yet, that's what makes it so lovely. the idea that a flower continued to bloom in a place without sunlight would've been absurd, an abomination to the laws of nature, but this one exists albeit fleeting and short-lived. she almost wonders what it would've become had it thrived under the sun, instead.
that's probably something she can try to find out later on. it doesn't seem like they'll be leaving this world anytime soon, anyway. ]
I'm surprised your alchemists have yet to find a way to keep them from wilting.
[ if he thought she wouldn't know what khemia is, well, he'd thought wrong.
in any case, lumine finally straightens back to her full height, brushing the nonexistent dirt from the front of her skirt. she says nothing more about khemia or how she knows about it, walking back up to him with another smile. ]
What happens if you pluck them before the two weeks is up? Do they wilt faster?
[ at the very least, here, he does not think much of the knowledge she has on khemia and their alchemists. he does not judge it harmful, and khemia is something that requires years of study. he does not think she'd be able to brandish it as a weapon.
no strikes are given. ]
They do not. They will, however, turn into something akin to stone if you take them away from Khaenri'ah.
[ something else that their gardeners, botanists and alchemists could not explain. they are khaenri'ah's flowers alone, simple as that.
he continues, then: ] Once you return them to Khaenri'ahn soil, their petals will soften, and they will turn into dust.
[ blue on gold. for once, he's not trying to find out her intentions. ]
[ lumine studies him a little intently, wondering if he'll look away again if she tries to meet his gaze. when he doesn't, her smile grows and she walks past him, back into the hallways of the palace. ]
I haven't in all of my travels. But each world will always have something other worlds don't.
[ in this case, a flower that blooms in the darkness of the underground and turns into dust after being plucked. also, mages who seem to have the ability to summon travelers like her and her brother. the world truly is a strange one with its own laws and rules that attempt to bind and shackle her.
or is it its way of telling her to settle and establish her roots in this place?
she pauses in the middle of the corridor, looking as if she's waiting for dainsleif. but it's not long before she chooses another direction, heading down a path towards some unknown location in the palace—or so it seems. her gaze only briefly flickers at the arched windows that lead out into the garden, the inteyvat twinkling in that small space. ]
The palace gate is this way, isn't it? The one that leads out into the city?
[ unique, then, are their inteyvat flowers. the answer should be one to be expected, but it is one, instead, that gives rise to a sense of pride in him. flowers that only grow in khaenri'ah, flowers that reject the notion of being away from their home. in a way, he finds himself the same. someone who, given the chance to be away from home, would miss it dearly. may that day never come.
those ocean-blue eyes of his fall on the flowers one last time, and he turns to their guest. ]
So you remember. Come along.
[ he catches up to her, then, and it is the same as before: quiet steps, carefully measured. he's far taller, after all.
it is only now that she has earned two points with him that he brings himself to mention one important thing. ]
You haven't told me your name.
[ neither has anyone else, apparently, but he won't think about it. ]
[ if it helps, she remembers certain ways around the palace: to the throne room, to her quarters, to the gates. as long as she has a point of reference, she won't entirely get lost—at least, until she's managed to find a path that's unknown to her. then that's another problem she'd have to deal with.
hence the request for a map, one that's yet to be granted after all this time.
lumine watches him walk past her before she trails after him once more, steps quick at first before slowing down when she's managed to catch up to his side. as usual, his consideration for their differences in height is much appreciated. ]
You finally decided to ask.
[ not that it's an actual question, but it's pointedly implied, anyway. it also tells her that no one else had decided to share what her name is; was it because it didn't matter to them?
she moves in front of him, walking backwards so she can see his face. ]
If I tell you my name, will you use it and not call me "princess" like the rest?
[ the map is not a request that will be granted. content yourself with your escort, your highness.
she is, he has noticed, an energetic one. she fits right in with their people, but finds, too, that she's much like the sun. warm, radiant, bright. khaenri'ahns do not see the sun often, if at all. she's a change of pace, fresh air in the underground of their nation. if one stares for too long, they'll go blind.
dainsleif looks away often enough. she's nothing like him. he wears blacks, she adorns whites. her eyes are golden like the morning sky, his are blue for the evening sky. sun, then moon.
he's not used to being teased. ]
Have I called you "princess" up until now?
[ the answer is no, nonetheless. ]
You are not of Khaenri'ah blood, nor do you hail from this world. Being so readily bestowed a title and a position in a nation you don't know must not be comfortable for you. Is it?
but ah, he looked away again. unwillingness to answer like before, perhaps? or is there another reason? it's oh-so-tempting to prod him a little further for an answer, but how much trouble would that get her, she wonders? lumine wants to test it out anyway, taking a step forward instead of back, letting their gap close even just for a step.
a question for a question—or in this case, questions. a deflection of her request. is that his response to her, then? ]
I wouldn't say it's discomfort.
[ they've been called many things during their travels, after all. and it isn't as if ... lumine shakes her head, smiling faintly and clasping her hands behind her back. fine, she'll answer his question for now. ]
But there's so much pressure that accompanies such a title, isn't it? I'm merely a traveler, after all, and yet, people expect so much of me when I've yet done anything.
[ expectations that she herself has no idea yet. ] Besides, wouldn't you yourself prefer to be called Dainsleif than Knight Captain?
[ she's not wrong in her assessment. it is, after all, his own opinion as well. how should one behave when bestowed the title and position of a royal princess in a nation she does not know, a nation she has sought for shelter, a nation whose national flower she was not even aware of? whatever reasons their king and mages had for such a summoning, had they considered her own feelings on it?
his steps come to a stop once she walks forward instead of backwards. captain of the guard as he is, dainsleif doesn't step back, for there is no threat in this — and even if there were, what could she do, half his size?
blue on gold. he muses her question. ]
There is a difference between our roles. It was of my own choosing to join the Royal Guard, and of my own skill that I was promoted captain. It's only expected that I'm referred to by my title more than my own name.
[ there's pride in it. this is something he wields with honor. ]
But it is as you said. You haven't done anything yet. What weight holds a title if the wielder doesn't have the skills to prove themselves?
truth be told, she has no idea what kind of princess they want her to be, what role they want her to play. a stranger for a nation's figurehead is, well, strange; if that's all they needed, then why not nominate someone from the ruling family, one who holds more familiarity with khaenri'ah than someone disconnected to it?
but his question, rhetorical as it is, strikes a nerve in her. it's frustrating already, having to figure out what the king wants from her and aether. but surely, it's because of something that she has. ]
You'll have to ask your king what skills he wishes for me to demonstrate, then.
[ lumine curtseys with effortless grace, leg smoothly bending at the knees and fingers lightly holding onto her skirt, head perfectly angled to a bow. as if she's been doing something like this her whole life.
when she once more straightens to her full height, her smile is just a little sharper at the edges. ]
[ indeed, he thinks. he will have to ask their king what his intentions are with their new guest. why princess, and not something else? is there a need for a stranger to inherit the kingdom? could they not sire a child themselves? would they treat her and her brother as their own children?
he can't figure them out. this out, whatever this is. a stranger with no khaenri'ahn blood on her veins — would their people even want such a thing? how does he, himself, feel about it?
blue on gold. she's so much like the sun, but khaenri'ahns have no need for it. would, then, she be needed for their peaceful and prideful kingdom? ]
Can a princess truly come to love and care for a nation she was not born in, then?
[ if this is what it comes down to: could she care for khaenri'ah as she would her own homeland? what lengths would she go to protect it? ]
[ honest and noble, his love unwavering for his own nation and people.
perhaps that's why he's the captain of the royal guards. and perhaps that's also the reason why the king posted him as her escort. not so much as to keep an eye on her or put her under surveillance; perhaps he wishes for her to emulate such passion towards khaenri'ah.
if so, then isn't it too much of a tall order to ask of her? the heart of a traveler can be fleeting, as short-lived as the trip to the next world that offers her more exciting wonders. ]
If she's given a reason, I suppose.
[ but what reason has she been given so far? its adoring citizens? its obliging rulers? its pride as a city governed by men and not gods? ]
And what would you do if she were to fail in that regard, Knight Captain? Would you point your sword at her, the girl you're tasked to protect?
[ this is not a question he takes his time musing over. it is a question he knows the answer well, something he might have thought about before, at night, under a sky that does not exist.
when he watches her here, it is in an attempt to find a hidden threat. he does not, and instead, dainsleif is left wondering: is this guilt? is this fear of failure, that she'd come to disappoint those who look up to her? would she want to be put down, to avoid shame, to avoid reality, to avoid the disappointment?
this, too, is not something he can get a read on. ]
My sword strikes those who pose a threat to my nation. I have been tasked to protect Khaenri'ah. It does not matter from who.
[ and with that, dainsleif takes a step to the side, and resumes walking. ]
[ lumine watches him walk past her, his strides steadfast and purposeful. seemingly unwilling to allow her to catch up, given their differences in height.
it's such a lonely path to take, the path of loyalty and fealty to one's country. after all, it shackles a person down to their duties, to the obligation of protecting an ideal. and more often than not, the ending is quite tragic; heroic, because who dies a martyr but is not revered as one, but tragic all the same.
too bad, she thinks. guys married to their jobs are often a pain to deal with.
with a sigh and a helpless smile, she follows after him, quickening her pace until she manages to come to. really, he could stand to wait for his charge; it's his job, after all. ]
I bet you're popular with your knights. [ subordinates tend to look up to their superiors when they wax poetic on codes of honor. ] I suppose you've never dated anyone before, then?
[ at the very least, he does default to the same pace as before once she catches up. walking away had simply been a way to let go of the topic at hand, because what's more to say? dainsleif might not recognize her as their princess, might not truly trust her yet. not her character, not as a representative of khaenri'ah. but he's not about threatening her, not willing to talk what ifs on scenarios that could possibly not come to happen.
she is, however, gifted. his steps falter for a moment; he does not stop walking, but for a moment, he was tempted to. ]
What?
[ ... ? surely he has heard it wrong. surely their to-be princess hasn't asked him about his personal life. surely. he shoots her a look for a moment, and the confusion is, for once, clear on his features. ]
[ lumine's starting to learn a few things about him in the span of time since they've meet a while ago: very stern and serious, but easily embarrassed; also, he's not very skillful at completely hiding his thoughts, which means that he's far too honest for his own good. one would think schooling his expression is something he's mastered as the captain of the royal guard.
but then, she also thinks that he's never had someone like her to deal with. he must have a lot of questions to ask his king later on, starting with "why her?" ]
You seem like a very diligent and responsible guy and your loyalty is very admirable. Normally, that would be very attractive. [ for a puppy, maybe ... ] But that also means you're the type who would be preoccupied with work that you'd have reasons why you couldn't make it home for dinner.
[ an emergency, a task, a mission from the king—the excuses can be endless if one puts their mind to it. ]
Worse comes to worst, too, you'd choose Khaenri'ah over your partner out of your duty.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
does she bleed the same? ( pre-cataclysm )
if she were to be asked, she'd rather be called anything but. whatever lineage, bloodline, dynasty she used to belong to has already turned into ashes, forgotten in the annals of time and space. whatever their reason for calling her a royal escapes like an errant, wandering cat. right now, she is simply a traveler—or at least, that was what she once was before she and her brother were summoned by this world, a world they thought they had selected from the multitude of stars that evening some time ago.
if she had let aether select the star that night, would they have found themselves in this world? she doesn't know nor does she want to ponder on it for too long. all she knows is that this world, this nation, these people seem to want something from her, from them.
what it is, she's yet to find out.
in the meantime, she's allowed to explore as she pleases, travel as she so chooses. they're amicable, at least, polite and courteous and obliging of her every need. the joy in their expressions when they see her seems to be genuine and sincere, and they're more than willing to help look after her brother while he sleeps. a potential home on the surface, but that will require aether's input before she decides.
now, if only she stops getting lost in their palace.
their royal mage had advised her to wait for her escort; he'll come soon, he tells her. but she's been idle for too long that she can't help but look around and see what khaenri'ah has to offer. ]
Maybe if they gave me a map of their palace, I wouldn't need an escort ...
no subject
when dainsleif inquires, they tell him our new esteemed guest, and the question remains unanswered. the kingdom of khaenri'ah has always had its royals, all who he and his bloodline have served faithfully for millennia. at current, however, he knows there is no princess in their ranks, no daughter has been sired. he inquires, again, as to who this princess is.
they tell him, instead, he has been assigned her escort. it gives raise to a brow, and more questions: why has the twilight sword, the captain of the royal guard, been assigned escort? that, too, remains unanswered.
there's no mind or will to make an argument on it, and he, too, is left to wander. the difference, however, is that he knows the ins and outs of the palace. ]
You would still require a escort even if you had been given a map.
[ the words that come from behind their "esteemed guest" are not meant to hurt, nor a means of attack. it is a statement with arguments to back it up, and he stands there, watchful. the girl is short, hair blonde like his, with clothes that are not from khaenri'ah — nor, he notes, from any other of teyvat's nations.
khaenri'ahns are a welcoming people, the pride of humankind. they open their arms to any and all who wish to stay in their lands, underground where the sun just barely hits. they are not perfect by any means, do not have natural flora like mondstadt, for example, does. at times, he thinks, they might be too welcoming, and it falls on him, alongside his royal guards, to make sure their people are kept safe.
for now, their new guest is under his jurisdiction, and his judgment. ]
My name is Dainsleif. Knight Captain of the Royal Guards. I have been assigned your escort.
no subject
impossible.
she slowly turns around on her spot, her expression that of curiosity, as she faces a rather handsome face (aether would be disappointed in her, but she's sure he'd agree to the description, anyway). blond hair and eyes a bright shade of blue—she tries to pin a memory to that face, her head tilting to one side, certain that it's been mentioned before. but then, it didn't seem like she needed to.
a faint smile tugs at the corner of her lips at his introduction, the curve growing a fraction higher when she sees the look in his eyes. she can read suspicion from a mile away, after all. ]
To assign me the captain of the Royal Guard as my escort, I can only assume one of two things.
[ that she's truly an esteemed guest of this nation, or that she's under surveillance by the royal family and the mages despite their warm welcome prior. no wonder he's managed to catch by surprise; no one rises to such a position without any kind of skill. ]
That the king had taken pity on me getting consistently lost in the palace, or that he finally heard my request of seeing the gardens and sent me someone familiar with the way to it.
no subject
she doesn't give him a name back. it is, already, a strike in his mind. at three, he'd have half the mind to request an audience with their king to raise concerns on their new chosen princess.
he watches her, blue on gold. not khaenri'ahn-born in the least. ]
The gardens are this way. [ and he turns west, through halls and arches.
his steps are silent, as though measured. dainsleif does not find will to put their guest on trial as a means of hostility. he does it out of care and love for his people, because if they are all to be the amicable people many know khaenri'ahns to be, then he will take the role of their shield and sword. he will be sharp in every way possible — literally, figuratively, metaphorically.
he turns to look at their guest. ]
What has brought you here? [ what remains unasked, between the lines, is: why khaenri'ah, and not sumeru? liyue? why khaenri'ah, underground, so rarely blessed by the sun? ]
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in any case, lumine waits for his prompt, her smile sustained on her lips.
when he doesn't and simply turns around, starting his pace down the hallway, she lets out a quiet laugh and trails after him, heels clicking against the stone floor. he certainly is quite different from those she's met so far, not at all unfriendly but it's clear he doesn't trust her just yet. a good practice for the knight captain, if she were to be asked; if there's anyone who should be most apprehensive of her, it's him.
still, for someone who seems to mistrust her, he sure is kind, keeping his steps measured enough for her to easily catch up. perhaps teasing him might be a little bit mean.
at his inquiry, though, she nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders: ]
We were summoned here, it seems.
[ ... well, at least, that's what she was told, their fall to teyvat quite unusual to how they normally land in worlds. so it only makes sense that khaenri'ah is where she and her brother make their way towards. she'll helpfully continue, just so she doesn't sound even more suspect. ]
It seems that your mages or your king may have need of me and my brother, so here I am. Curious, isn't it?
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that is, however, for another time. at present, the girl is just "princess", their esteemed guest who hailed from afar. summoned, even. it is of no wonder their king think so highly of her.
the sigh that escapes dainsleif's throat is a quiet one. he is, at the end, still respectful of his king's decisions, but finds some questionable at best. this kind of information is one that would surely have been appropriate to tell him — not because he deigns himself worthy of being in the summoning room himself (he'd argue here, however, that it would be good for their sakes, in case something went wrong), but because he wouldn't have to be in this position.
an escort to someone he does not know, who does not come from their kingdom, who does not offer him her name. she is not an enemy quite yet. that judgment he would make at the end of the day at best. ]
Your brother? [ there's another one. great. he had only heard of a princess — was the boy not to their king's liking? ] Does he not share your penchant for visiting gardens?
[ the royal guard part of him worries here: the brother is not under his watch, then, whose is he? is he wandering the palace by himself? is he unwatched? why? how is it that suddenly he has so much work on his plate? ]
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if she'd known that's how information is passed down from king to soldier in this place, she'd have a few words about it. but then, they'd be words she'd keep to herself, unwilling to meddle in palace affairs that don't involve her; it's enough that she's been dragged into this nation's politics and royalty.
still, her smile fades just a little at his question, and there's a bit of a pause before she responds to him, her gaze briefly turning distant. a moment later, she glances back at him, her smile returning on her lips. ]
He has a penchant for sleeping, I'm afraid.
[ though aether probably would've liked to see the garden, too. flowers that blossom underground, far away from the sun—it would've been a curiosity for her brother, one that he wouldn't hesitate to seek out just like her. ]
He's yet to stir from his sleep since our arrival in this world. [ it's not normal, but there's not much that she can do when he wouldn't rouse. ] Your king has assured me that I'll be informed the moment he wakes up.
[ a beat, as she peers at his face, eyes twinkling: ] Were you worried that he was left unattended and was currently running around the palace?
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she does a good job at picking herself back up, and when she meets his gaze, he looks away. the judgment here is thus: she is not stupid. the likelihood of her knowing of his suspicions of her are high, and she knows, too, that he had worried about her brother, and the way he's potentially left unattended.
that does not earn her a strike. much of the opposite.
dainsleif does not reply just yet. a few more turns, then, and they are not outside the palace; there'd have no need to be. there is, after all, no sun outside — the difference here is that in this specific spot, between palace walls, there is a gap through layers and layers of stones and sand and marble. here, in this specific spot, there's a hint of sunshine during the day, and moonlight during the night. here, the king had said, we will build a garden. ]
The grass in Khaenri'ah is synthetic, [ he begins, arms crossed against his chest, ] as you might have noticed from the lack of natural sunlight. It's made with something we call the art of Khemia.
[ he's a escort, a tour-guide, and mindful not to give her too much information. ]
This is, however, one of the very few places in Khaenri'ah where the flora is real. The King and Queen made sure to keep the gap untouched and tended to so it never closes, and sunlight peeks at day. We have specialists that care for this garden so it never dies. [ it is, he thinks, a little too much work. ] Were you expecting a more impressive sight?
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despite his attempts at keeping distance from her, he's quite honest, his face easily giving away the truth at a moment's notice. and while honesty is a good trait to have for any soldier, candidness would be bad for business worse comes to worst. then again, he probably has never dealt with a situation like this before, a situation like her.
lumine says nothing further too, letting silence settle between them until they arrive at the garden. it's nothing grand, nothing compared to some of the ones she's seen and been to during her travels. and yet, she finds herself drifting past him along its paths, fingers lightly brushing against pale petals.
she's never seen flowers like this, seemingly glowing in the dimness of the space as if they were stars. ]
Isn't it already impressive that they're thriving despite all odds? Just like everyone I've met so far in this world ...
[ sure, there might be gardeners tending to its growth and survival, but in order to do so, the plant itself has to be hardy as well. one can only do so much if the other refuses to live.
she crouches on the ground, studying one of the blossoms, unmindful if her skirt or scarf brushes against the dirt. ]
What is it called?
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the truth of the matter is that he does not visit the gardens often. the knight captain of the royal guard has a busy schedule, guards to train, skills to perfect. he does not have time to sit still, and even if he had, he does not have the company that their "princess" provides him.
so the thought is, of course, unexpected. under the single ray of sunlight, her white and blue dress matches the flowers in such a perfect way, there'd be some, more romantic people who fancied waxing poetry on the most little things, who would dare to say he's the embodiment of their flowers. for a moment, he wonders, if that's another reason their king had fancied her so.
the thought, then, was this: the flowers would have looked good on her hair, as though that's where they belong.
he discards the thought immediately after. ]
Inteyvat. They're Khaenri'ah's national flower.
[ flowers that belong to no one but them, flowers that do not thrive outside their homeland. inteyvat, in some language or another, would be synonymous to homesickness. ]
You'll find them everywhere here, which means they do not require sunlight to thrive. [ a sigh, and then: ] It's likely the reason why they last only two weeks before wilting.
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barely a droplet in the years of her lifespan, and yet, that's what makes it so lovely. the idea that a flower continued to bloom in a place without sunlight would've been absurd, an abomination to the laws of nature, but this one exists albeit fleeting and short-lived. she almost wonders what it would've become had it thrived under the sun, instead.
that's probably something she can try to find out later on. it doesn't seem like they'll be leaving this world anytime soon, anyway. ]
I'm surprised your alchemists have yet to find a way to keep them from wilting.
[ if he thought she wouldn't know what khemia is, well, he'd thought wrong.
in any case, lumine finally straightens back to her full height, brushing the nonexistent dirt from the front of her skirt. she says nothing more about khemia or how she knows about it, walking back up to him with another smile. ]
What happens if you pluck them before the two weeks is up? Do they wilt faster?
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no strikes are given. ]
They do not. They will, however, turn into something akin to stone if you take them away from Khaenri'ah.
[ something else that their gardeners, botanists and alchemists could not explain. they are khaenri'ah's flowers alone, simple as that.
he continues, then: ] Once you return them to Khaenri'ahn soil, their petals will soften, and they will turn into dust.
[ blue on gold. for once, he's not trying to find out her intentions. ]
Have you ever seen anything of the kind before?
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I haven't in all of my travels. But each world will always have something other worlds don't.
[ in this case, a flower that blooms in the darkness of the underground and turns into dust after being plucked. also, mages who seem to have the ability to summon travelers like her and her brother. the world truly is a strange one with its own laws and rules that attempt to bind and shackle her.
or is it its way of telling her to settle and establish her roots in this place?
she pauses in the middle of the corridor, looking as if she's waiting for dainsleif. but it's not long before she chooses another direction, heading down a path towards some unknown location in the palace—or so it seems. her gaze only briefly flickers at the arched windows that lead out into the garden, the inteyvat twinkling in that small space. ]
The palace gate is this way, isn't it? The one that leads out into the city?
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those ocean-blue eyes of his fall on the flowers one last time, and he turns to their guest. ]
So you remember. Come along.
[ he catches up to her, then, and it is the same as before: quiet steps, carefully measured. he's far taller, after all.
it is only now that she has earned two points with him that he brings himself to mention one important thing. ]
You haven't told me your name.
[ neither has anyone else, apparently, but he won't think about it. ]
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hence the request for a map, one that's yet to be granted after all this time.
lumine watches him walk past her before she trails after him once more, steps quick at first before slowing down when she's managed to catch up to his side. as usual, his consideration for their differences in height is much appreciated. ]
You finally decided to ask.
[ not that it's an actual question, but it's pointedly implied, anyway. it also tells her that no one else had decided to share what her name is; was it because it didn't matter to them?
she moves in front of him, walking backwards so she can see his face. ]
If I tell you my name, will you use it and not call me "princess" like the rest?
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she is, he has noticed, an energetic one. she fits right in with their people, but finds, too, that she's much like the sun. warm, radiant, bright. khaenri'ahns do not see the sun often, if at all. she's a change of pace, fresh air in the underground of their nation. if one stares for too long, they'll go blind.
dainsleif looks away often enough. she's nothing like him. he wears blacks, she adorns whites. her eyes are golden like the morning sky, his are blue for the evening sky. sun, then moon.
he's not used to being teased. ]
Have I called you "princess" up until now?
[ the answer is no, nonetheless. ]
You are not of Khaenri'ah blood, nor do you hail from this world. Being so readily bestowed a title and a position in a nation you don't know must not be comfortable for you. Is it?
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but ah, he looked away again. unwillingness to answer like before, perhaps? or is there another reason? it's oh-so-tempting to prod him a little further for an answer, but how much trouble would that get her, she wonders? lumine wants to test it out anyway, taking a step forward instead of back, letting their gap close even just for a step.
a question for a question—or in this case, questions. a deflection of her request. is that his response to her, then? ]
I wouldn't say it's discomfort.
[ they've been called many things during their travels, after all. and it isn't as if ... lumine shakes her head, smiling faintly and clasping her hands behind her back. fine, she'll answer his question for now. ]
But there's so much pressure that accompanies such a title, isn't it? I'm merely a traveler, after all, and yet, people expect so much of me when I've yet done anything.
[ expectations that she herself has no idea yet. ] Besides, wouldn't you yourself prefer to be called Dainsleif than Knight Captain?
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his steps come to a stop once she walks forward instead of backwards. captain of the guard as he is, dainsleif doesn't step back, for there is no threat in this — and even if there were, what could she do, half his size?
blue on gold. he muses her question. ]
There is a difference between our roles. It was of my own choosing to join the Royal Guard, and of my own skill that I was promoted captain. It's only expected that I'm referred to by my title more than my own name.
[ there's pride in it. this is something he wields with honor. ]
But it is as you said. You haven't done anything yet. What weight holds a title if the wielder doesn't have the skills to prove themselves?
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truth be told, she has no idea what kind of princess they want her to be, what role they want her to play. a stranger for a nation's figurehead is, well, strange; if that's all they needed, then why not nominate someone from the ruling family, one who holds more familiarity with khaenri'ah than someone disconnected to it?
but his question, rhetorical as it is, strikes a nerve in her. it's frustrating already, having to figure out what the king wants from her and aether. but surely, it's because of something that she has. ]
You'll have to ask your king what skills he wishes for me to demonstrate, then.
[ lumine curtseys with effortless grace, leg smoothly bending at the knees and fingers lightly holding onto her skirt, head perfectly angled to a bow. as if she's been doing something like this her whole life.
when she once more straightens to her full height, her smile is just a little sharper at the edges. ]
A princess can be many things, after all.
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he can't figure them out. this out, whatever this is. a stranger with no khaenri'ahn blood on her veins — would their people even want such a thing? how does he, himself, feel about it?
blue on gold. she's so much like the sun, but khaenri'ahns have no need for it. would, then, she be needed for their peaceful and prideful kingdom? ]
Can a princess truly come to love and care for a nation she was not born in, then?
[ if this is what it comes down to: could she care for khaenri'ah as she would her own homeland? what lengths would she go to protect it? ]
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perhaps that's why he's the captain of the royal guards. and perhaps that's also the reason why the king posted him as her escort. not so much as to keep an eye on her or put her under surveillance; perhaps he wishes for her to emulate such passion towards khaenri'ah.
if so, then isn't it too much of a tall order to ask of her? the heart of a traveler can be fleeting, as short-lived as the trip to the next world that offers her more exciting wonders. ]
If she's given a reason, I suppose.
[ but what reason has she been given so far? its adoring citizens? its obliging rulers? its pride as a city governed by men and not gods? ]
And what would you do if she were to fail in that regard, Knight Captain? Would you point your sword at her, the girl you're tasked to protect?
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when he watches her here, it is in an attempt to find a hidden threat. he does not, and instead, dainsleif is left wondering: is this guilt? is this fear of failure, that she'd come to disappoint those who look up to her? would she want to be put down, to avoid shame, to avoid reality, to avoid the disappointment?
this, too, is not something he can get a read on. ]
My sword strikes those who pose a threat to my nation. I have been tasked to protect Khaenri'ah. It does not matter from who.
[ and with that, dainsleif takes a step to the side, and resumes walking. ]
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it's such a lonely path to take, the path of loyalty and fealty to one's country. after all, it shackles a person down to their duties, to the obligation of protecting an ideal. and more often than not, the ending is quite tragic; heroic, because who dies a martyr but is not revered as one, but tragic all the same.
too bad, she thinks. guys married to their jobs are often a pain to deal with.
with a sigh and a helpless smile, she follows after him, quickening her pace until she manages to come to. really, he could stand to wait for his charge; it's his job, after all. ]
I bet you're popular with your knights. [ subordinates tend to look up to their superiors when they wax poetic on codes of honor. ] I suppose you've never dated anyone before, then?
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she is, however, gifted. his steps falter for a moment; he does not stop walking, but for a moment, he was tempted to. ]
What?
[ ... ? surely he has heard it wrong. surely their to-be princess hasn't asked him about his personal life. surely. he shoots her a look for a moment, and the confusion is, for once, clear on his features. ]
I fail to see how that relates to anything else.
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Oh, it relates to a lot of things.
[ lumine's starting to learn a few things about him in the span of time since they've meet a while ago: very stern and serious, but easily embarrassed; also, he's not very skillful at completely hiding his thoughts, which means that he's far too honest for his own good. one would think schooling his expression is something he's mastered as the captain of the royal guard.
but then, she also thinks that he's never had someone like her to deal with. he must have a lot of questions to ask his king later on, starting with "why her?" ]
You seem like a very diligent and responsible guy and your loyalty is very admirable. Normally, that would be very attractive. [ for a puppy, maybe ... ] But that also means you're the type who would be preoccupied with work that you'd have reasons why you couldn't make it home for dinner.
[ an emergency, a task, a mission from the king—the excuses can be endless if one puts their mind to it. ]
Worse comes to worst, too, you'd choose Khaenri'ah over your partner out of your duty.
[ she glances at him sideways. ] Am I wrong?
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ive been so busy n tired im so sorry......
dw about it! i've been sick too, so it's not just you
you said that and then i got such a nasty cold 🤝
everyone's just getting sick nowadays. feel better soon!
god. yeah. it took me out for a couple days but i'm better now thankfully!!
aaaa that's good to hear!! make sure to get lots of rest while recovering, liquids, etc