They will at the king's orders, most likely. [ a pause, and then: ] Would that stop you from finding a way out nonetheless?
[ after all, what do they know of what powers she wields? for the king and court mages to see fit to summon her and her brother, to crown her princess, surely she's one with tricks up her sleeves. it would be foolish to show her cards so early on.
khaenri'ah's gate is huge from the distance, and far bigger up close. the guards, as expected, spare him a look, then a nod, then spare his company a look themselves. no words are needed for the interaction to go as intended: the knight captain of the royal guard is one of the most trusted people in khaenri'ah, a man who would die for his nation and king if need be. for all that she is their guest, she has been requested and summoned, and it would make little sense to allow her to leave so soon.
but if dainsleif is her escort, assigned by the king himself, the guards know it'd be foolish to doubt his conviction. and so, the gates open. ]
Mind your step.
[ he offers her a hand out of habit, the stairs slightly steep. it's such a long way down too, couldn't their ancestors have made them easier to walk on? ]
[ the smile she wears curls at the corners, almost cat-like, and she presses a finger against her lips. ]
That's a secret, Captain.
[ the gate doesn't faze her in any way, not even as they move closer to it. perhaps the only thing she finds fascinating about it is the carvings on the stone, the eight-pointed star pattern of the kingdom once more prominent on each door. which makes her wonder what those symbols mean or represent, if they signify any connection at all to the stars.
is that why she and her twin brother were summoned? because of what their true nature is?
but that's a question for another time and for another person, her curiosity piqued by the opening of the gate. she takes his proffered hand, her fingers curling a little tighter around his as she carefully navigates her way down the stairs. ]
... Has anyone ever broken their neck going down here?
[ as lightfooted as she is, she can't imagine walking down this staircase and not spraining or breaking something in the process. ]
[ the answer doesn't surprise him. after all — it'd be foolish to show her cards so soon, but what's hidden between the lines is that no, of course that wouldn't stop her. she's a force to be reckoned with, a bird that does not belong in a cage. he'd watch her fly, eventually, spread out her wings and ride the wind like it's hers to do with as she will.
the thought itself almost makes him smile. almost.
his own fingers, bigger and longer, curl against her own with care. he does not note on the softness of her skin, or the warmth of the touch, if only because his gloves do not allow him so — but the thought, inevitably, crosses his mind. ]
... Yes. [ of course there had been accidents. with all the sand around to begin with, someone would be bound to slip and fall. broken necks, broken legs, broken bones. not deaths, at the very least. maybe it's why no one has done anything about it just yet. ]
Is that a concern you have yourself, or are you simply curious?
[ hidden, too, is the continuation: he wouldn't allow harm to come to her, even if she trips and falls. he'd catch her even at his own expense. ]
[ ... it would be easier to just fly down, wouldn't it? finally spread her wings and touch down on solid ground once more, leaving him to fend for himself on the staircase? what a tempting idea. ]
It's a valid concern, isn't it?
[ not just for herself, but for anyone who would like to traverse this path to ... well, wherever they're going. it's treacherous, to say the least, each step is well-worn, smoothed out by time and the number of feet that's climbed up and down. and one wrong step can send them plunging several meters down.
something that she almost finds herself getting into, her heel missing the worn-out edge of the next step and sliding into the void. the only thing that keeps her in one piece is dainsleif's hand, tightly held as if it's a lifeline. ]
... See? [ her brows furrow as she tries to slow down her suddenly racing pulse, letting out a huff. ] Very valid.
it is a valid concern to have, and a complaint many have brought up with the king and queen. no one has died, yet, so there's no need to do much about the stairs. alongside two other arguments: one, maintenance on stairs that are built on stone and sand are harder to reconstruct in its entirety, and they have already worked the stones in their surroundings to add khaenri'ahn architecture. two, not many come and go from khaenri'ah to begin with, anyways.
it is only expected that his reflexes are quick. she trips, and the first wrong movement of her body is enough for dainsleif's arm to find its way around her waist, holding her in place. he does not let go of her hand; if anything, his grip on it tightens, and he does not realize the strength he's using to hold onto her.
had it been a bad idea to ask her to come outside? he'd never forgive himself if she were to be harmed, no matter the reason.
he sighs, then. hard. ]
Indeed. Perhaps you should use your authority as princess to convince the king and queen to do something about these stairs. [ hire rhinedottir to replace the sand on the stairs with synthetic grass for all he cares, really.
he pulls her up slowly, setting her back on her feet. his hands don't let go of her. ] Are you hurt?
[ are they really going to wait until someone bashes their head on the ground??
good, well-paved roads are often a sign of a flourishing nation. they allow for easier travel between places, aiding citizens, explorers and merchants alike as they go about their day. surely, these stairs are a path that many use to travel to and from khaenri'ah, and if it's currently a safety hazard, then people might as well not visit.
it takes her a full minute to steady her footing again on the staircase and to compose herself, allowing her heartbeat to slow down. she doesn't even realize the grip he has on her hand or the arm around her waist. ]
I'm fine. My foot just slipped.
[ one more breath as she closes her eyes, a deep inhale and exhale. ]
[ that, whether he wants or not, gives him pause. the knight captain of khaenri'ah's royal guard is softening up. great.
it is not weird that people refer to him by his title, he had said before. it is not weird that some people closer to him call him by his name. parents, close friends. why is it that his name on her tongue has such an effect on him? why does it, mundane as it is, make his mind lose focus on what's really important?
she almost got hurt. there's no time to dwell on the way his name had sounded with her voice.
dainsleif lets go of her entirely, suddenly too aware of his touch on her. couldn't the king have summoned someone else? he clears his throat, exerts himself to find composure. this isn't like him. ]
We should turn back. It's only a matter of time until you hurt yourself, and I doubt the king will be pleased to know it has happened under my watch.
[ it is, ultimately, an excuse. his own selfishness is just eating at him, for once. this, too, isn't like him. ]
[ whatever existential crisis he's currently having goes unnoticed by her, mostly because she herself is going through a crisis of her own.
it isn't just the sudden chill that seems to have dropped down her spine—is it fear? she doesn't know, she's never feared getting hurt or even dying before—but also the fact that she's finally realized the arm around her waist, the hand tightly holding hers. his touch burns despite the layers of clothes between them, and she only finds that she's able to breathe again when he's finally let her go.
the sound of him clearing his throat also lets her gather her composure, releasing whatever breath she's been holding and softening the tensed muscles in her shoulders.
lumine wants to make an excuse that it's the height (or is it depth?) of the staircase, that air is probably thin where they are. but that's bullshit, and even she knows it. sometimes, being too self-aware has its own pitfalls.
at his suggestion, she presses her lips together, looking up at him. ]
It's fine. [ she's fine, he saved her, she's uninjured. and if she falls again, she can summon her wings. ] I'm sturdier than I look. Besides, what the king doesn't know won't hurt him.
[ dw she won't tattle on him. in any case, she starts walking down the staircase once more. ]
[ stubborn. but isn't he already getting used to that?
dainsleif does not attempt to convince her otherwise, it would have no point. once again, he finds himself following her whims with no will or strength to fight them. that will, eventually, be food for thought when he lays in bed to sleep that same night.
still — there's a small, faint smile that surfaces on his face. it's barely noticeable. ]
How many secrets do you intend on keeping from the king?
[ ultimately, as he follows behind her (ever so careful to watch her steps, ever so ready to catch her if she falls, again), the question is voiced in a tone of jest. this, too, he would not fault her for. a nation that is not hers, a nation she does not know. it's the same dance and song, and slowly, he's becoming more lenient in keeping her secrets against his own king.
[ she doesn't wait for him to follow her, her gait steady and purposeful but careful. still, she does pay attention to the footsteps that trail behind her, heavier than her own but not with a hint of any kind of reluctance in them. lumine only supposes that he's either getting used to it (unsurprising) or he's indulging her whims (surprising).
either way, he has no choice if he wants to abide by the order given by his king. he could also just drag her back up to the gates, forcing her to remain within the walls of the kingdom. but she also has a feeling he won't do that.
his question, though asked in jest, gets her to look at him over her shoulder. ]
That depends. How many secrets does he intend to keep from me?
[ the reason why she's here, the reason for her title—all of those are unknowns at the moment, information that she's not privy to when she should be. no one wishes to tell her, no one wants to answer her questions.
is she to offer her head on a platter when the time comes? who knows? ]
Saying I would bring strength and hope to the kingdom is a bit too vague for my tastes.
Would you follow a king that shows all of his cards upon first meeting?
[ a question for a question, for dainsleif does not have the answer to her own. her assessment about him had been right: he is a man married to his job, a man with a heavy sense of duty. he serves the king, but finds, ultimately, that he serves khaenri'ah first and foremost. there are many things even he himself does not know; after all, wouldn't he have the answer to her most important question, otherwise?
at the very least, the last couple of steps do not cause any accidents. the sand is soft underneath his feet, and with boots as long as their own, he does not have to worry about sand getting in. ]
We go up from here. Let me know if your legs are sore. It will be a long climb.
If your king wishes for me to believe in him, then is it not fair to ask the same from him?
[ to trust her enough to reveal what her purpose is in this nation. saying that she would supposedly bring some kind of hope to a group of people who don't even know her feels like a salve to a third-degree burn—a temporary palliative to ease one's mind and turn one's attention away. just like the crownless title offered to her.
it's adding insult to the injury of being dragged down from the skies.
lumine doesn't voice out that thought, her footsteps filling in the silence that's fallen upon her. she simply wonders if she should find another way to wake up her brother and perhaps lead him out of this world. ]
[ it's a good answer-question, he thinks. it brings that one-pixel smile to his face for a moment, before it disappears into the unknown. dainsleif allows the conversation to die there, for there is nothing else he could add to it.
it will be, after all, his king's decision whether he will open up to his supposed princess or not. he would give him advice if asked for, but otherwise, dainsleif is, despite all, just a knight. ]
... [ a pause, because he might have voiced the words he did, but now finds himself speechless. he clears his throat for a moment. ] Yes. It would do you well to save energy for the walk back.
[ she can't tell if he's serious about that or not, but chances are that he is. which is admittedly a surprise to hear since, other than that one instance earlier on the steps, he's adamant about keeping his distance from her. possibly to keep himself from getting infected by actual emotions, who knows.
well, she'll save that little offer for later, just in case she does get tired and her legs decide to give in. plus it'll give her more ammo to tease him with later on. always a win, in her opinion. ]
Where are we going anyway?
[ he still hasn't told her anything just like his king. it almost makes her wonder if everyone in khaenri'ah has a tendency to hide secrets more than the normal person. ]
Don't tell me you're leading me to my demise under the guise of acting on your king's orders.
[ that's funny. dainsleif would have laughed if he weren't so stoic all the time. the corner of his eyes soften, at the very least, and lumine would be lucky to notice it. ]
You will see. Be patient.
[ he isn't about to ruin the surprise, and hates it that he considers it, and wants it to be a surprise. he clears his throat, again, finding himself uncomfortable in his own body. he needs a cold shower, and time to spare to sort out his thoughts.
the path up isn't so arduous. there are elevators they've built themselves, architecture native to khaenri'ah with inscriptions in their tongue. if lumine asks, dainsleif's answer is vague for the most part. workshops, he says, but does not mention what for.
it is only when there is a cold breeze gentle on his skin that he turns to look at her, again. ]
Come.
[ there will be a moment later that dainsleif will second-guess his impulsiveness. the wind announces the end of the tunnel, and he's sure sumeru's desert is no news for her; but if he's lucky (and by his king, he hopes he is), the sundown and the way the stars are plenty on the sky above them, and the hint of northern lights into the distance might just be. khaenri'ah is a nation that thrives underground, but he finds that moments like these are much more appreciated by them than those who take the skies for granted. stars, after all, are a pattern in his clothes, and khaenri'ah's kingdom is called the eclipse dynasty for a reason.
there's a charm to it all, no trees to cover the skies. it's easy to feel small under its size, but he finds it comforting. ]
granted, khaenri'ah isn't the first nation that's technologically advanced in comparison to the rest of its neighboring countries. but it's curious and a little baffling why they continue to thrive underground when they have the capability to emerge and flourish further aboveground.
she understands that there must be a reason, but considering what they have on hand ...
her gaze flickers around, taking in the sights of the supposed workshop. the smell of iron and fire permeates her nose, the heat a little stifling, so much so that she can almost taste it. still, she doesn't see what's being worked on, and she doubts dainsleif will tell her about it either.
the scent of iron eventually fades as they continue their trek, replaced instead by the dry smell of, well, nothing. and it's not long before they emerge out into the desert, sands extending far beyond what her eyes could see. but that's not what catches her attention, her footsteps slowing as her gaze quickly shifts to the sky above them.
stars dot the night sky, strewn like crystals on velvet fabric, twinkling even in the midst of the pale full moon. ]
It's been a while ...
[ an eternity, it feels like, since she's laid her eyes on the sky again. ]
[ it is a mysterious little thing, the way pressure leaves him at her reaction. halfway through, dainsleif had wondered if this would even be anything impressed. she's a traveler, after all, surely she has seen worlds and stars with skies much more fascinating. surely a dark night with twinkling stars isn't anything new, let alone impressive.
but she doesn't seem to hate it, and it soothes the weight in his chest.
khaenri'ah does not take the sky for granted like the other nations do, he thought of saying, but the words die on his lips. after all she has said of him, it does not feel well-suited to speak of his nation in such a moment. so he thinks, and muses, and wonders, and finds himself unable of knowing how to make conversation, or what to even say. he finds, still, that he should not be struggling so much to speak. it's a mysterious thing. ]
... The night sky is the one thing I miss seeing everyday. [ he decides, then, on speaking of his feelings. thoughts he has never once told anyone else. ] The cold breeze, the quiet of the desert. I find it soothing. Do you?
dw about it! i've been sick too, so it's not just you
[ if he had said those words and ruined the moment, she might've just bodily dragged him back underground and instructed the guards to keep the gates shut forever.
but as it stands, it seems he knows how to read the room ... even if his discomfort is palpable enough to momentarily distract her. the gap in his outward facade as the knight captain and his personality is quite fascinating, as she's finding it since earlier, and a part of her wonders if he's just inept in terms of handling most people despite his rank.
or at least, people like her. ]
I do ...
[ it reminds her of the many worlds they've been to, all different but having small pockets of land that are the same as the last. a place where they can find familiarity in. she wonders why he had suddenly brought her out here. ]
[ she relates to the sentiment, and that, too, dainsleif finds soothing. the corners of his eyes soften into a smile that does not reach his lips, and it is all the confirmation he needs that this was not a mistake, nor should he regret coming out of his comfort zone.
(it is not, however, something that will happen again, if he has anything to say about it. not being sure of his own actions or finding logic in it isn't exactly what he'd call fun, let alone comforting.)
his gaze, at last, leaves the starry sky, and turns back to her. ]
... The ocean is north from here. It's not the shortest trip, so I cannot take you there tonight.
[ next time almost slips out of his tongue. there should be no next time. he's knight captain of the royal guard, not an escort. surely she would be assigned better company, he would return to his duties, they wouldn't talk nearly as much, if at all. as things ought to be.
the cold breeze of the desert night is kind on his skin. the moonlight brings out the blue of his eyes. it is a peaceful night, despite all. these are not things that could be easily achieved in khaenri'ah at all. ]
Tell me about the worlds you have visited.
[ he does not, however, say now, nor does he say tomorrow. it rings, almost, as a promise. she may do it whenever she desires, tonight, come morning, five days from now, three moons in the future. no matter when, he would lend her tales his ears. ]
everyone's just getting sick nowadays. feel better soon!
[ how can she tell him of the worlds she's been to if there's no next time? silly man and his silly sentiments.
there's a momentary thought, an impulse that runs through her for one long second as she shifts her gaze from the sky to the north. who's to stop her if she were to drag him to the direction of the sea, a willful attempt to impose herself on him as a princess would to her knight. he's sure to grumble about it, perhaps even give her a heavy sigh that speaks volumes than an actual lecture, but she's certain he wouldn't leave her be.
he's too righteous and chivalrous to abandon his job of escorting her—even if she's being willfully belligerent.
but she decides against it, unwilling to ruin the evening. instead, she starts walking towards a strange device that looks completely out of place, taking a seat right at its base, stretching her legs in front of her. she can tell it's a teleportation mechanism of some sort, but it doesn't look very khaenri'ahn in nature or structure. she'll have to investigate what it is someday. ]
There's a world out there that's covered by water. Just one great big ocean with no end to its horizon, a bright blue ball floating in the nothingness of space.
[ no land, no trees, nothing for even a bird to perch and rest. she had thought it was pretty back then, the way the edge of the world seems to stretch forever. ]
At night, the sea would sparkle, reflecting the stars of the sky it mirrors.
god. yeah. it took me out for a couple days but i'm better now thankfully!!
[ if she had dragged him along to the beach, he would not have been surprised. if she had imposed on him as a princess, he would say that he does not see her as such, perhaps not yet, and he follows his king first and foremost. there would have been scolding, there would have been an exasperated sigh, and the evening would have been, at the end, ruined.
she does not, and a part of dainsleif is thankful for it.
instead, she finds herself comfortable, and he tallies after her. she seats herself and he remains standing, the natural noises of the desert few and far between. they would have all been replaced with her voice and her tales, stories of worlds that may or not exist. for dainsleif, who the outside is covered by endless sand, and the nation he has sworn an oath to protect ever so far from natural blues, the idea of a vast nothingness of endless water is— peculiar.
for a moment, he thinks. were he a free man to do as he wishes, not bound to his job, would he have asked her to take him along in her travels?
the idea is not one deserving of thought, and dainsleif discards it. ]
Is that why you wish to see the ocean? A nostalgic feeling, or have you come to appreciate the way it reflects the night sky?
aaaa that's good to hear!! make sure to get lots of rest while recovering, liquids, etc
her gaze flickers sideways to meet his, finding herself reflected in blue as deep as the ocean. a moment later, she's looking away, turning her head towards the direction of the sea where the stars point north. unfamiliar ones, strange bright lights she's never mapped before, and yet instinctively it points her to one direction and only one direction. ]
They say the sky and the sea are paths to different worlds. And that the sky is just another world's ocean and the ocean, if you sink deep enough to its bottom, may lead you to another world through its sky.
[ stories, she's full of them. tales from kings and peasants, farmers and fishers they've met throughout their travels. some are fairy tales, meant for a child unable to sleep; others are truths, passed on from generation to generation until they become fairy tales themselves.
if she perhaps sank deep enough into teyvat's ocean, she might just escape this world through another world's sky. but she can't, not yet. not when aether continues to slumber, unable to resume his journey with her. ]
But then, you wouldn't let me drown myself in the ocean, would you?
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[ after all, what do they know of what powers she wields? for the king and court mages to see fit to summon her and her brother, to crown her princess, surely she's one with tricks up her sleeves. it would be foolish to show her cards so early on.
khaenri'ah's gate is huge from the distance, and far bigger up close. the guards, as expected, spare him a look, then a nod, then spare his company a look themselves. no words are needed for the interaction to go as intended: the knight captain of the royal guard is one of the most trusted people in khaenri'ah, a man who would die for his nation and king if need be. for all that she is their guest, she has been requested and summoned, and it would make little sense to allow her to leave so soon.
but if dainsleif is her escort, assigned by the king himself, the guards know it'd be foolish to doubt his conviction. and so, the gates open. ]
Mind your step.
[ he offers her a hand out of habit, the stairs slightly steep. it's such a long way down too, couldn't their ancestors have made them easier to walk on? ]
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That's a secret, Captain.
[ the gate doesn't faze her in any way, not even as they move closer to it. perhaps the only thing she finds fascinating about it is the carvings on the stone, the eight-pointed star pattern of the kingdom once more prominent on each door. which makes her wonder what those symbols mean or represent, if they signify any connection at all to the stars.
is that why she and her twin brother were summoned? because of what their true nature is?
but that's a question for another time and for another person, her curiosity piqued by the opening of the gate. she takes his proffered hand, her fingers curling a little tighter around his as she carefully navigates her way down the stairs. ]
... Has anyone ever broken their neck going down here?
[ as lightfooted as she is, she can't imagine walking down this staircase and not spraining or breaking something in the process. ]
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the thought itself almost makes him smile. almost.
his own fingers, bigger and longer, curl against her own with care. he does not note on the softness of her skin, or the warmth of the touch, if only because his gloves do not allow him so — but the thought, inevitably, crosses his mind. ]
... Yes. [ of course there had been accidents. with all the sand around to begin with, someone would be bound to slip and fall. broken necks, broken legs, broken bones. not deaths, at the very least. maybe it's why no one has done anything about it just yet. ]
Is that a concern you have yourself, or are you simply curious?
[ hidden, too, is the continuation: he wouldn't allow harm to come to her, even if she trips and falls. he'd catch her even at his own expense. ]
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It's a valid concern, isn't it?
[ not just for herself, but for anyone who would like to traverse this path to ... well, wherever they're going. it's treacherous, to say the least, each step is well-worn, smoothed out by time and the number of feet that's climbed up and down. and one wrong step can send them plunging several meters down.
something that she almost finds herself getting into, her heel missing the worn-out edge of the next step and sliding into the void. the only thing that keeps her in one piece is dainsleif's hand, tightly held as if it's a lifeline. ]
... See? [ her brows furrow as she tries to slow down her suddenly racing pulse, letting out a huff. ] Very valid.
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it is a valid concern to have, and a complaint many have brought up with the king and queen. no one has died, yet, so there's no need to do much about the stairs. alongside two other arguments: one, maintenance on stairs that are built on stone and sand are harder to reconstruct in its entirety, and they have already worked the stones in their surroundings to add khaenri'ahn architecture. two, not many come and go from khaenri'ah to begin with, anyways.
it is only expected that his reflexes are quick. she trips, and the first wrong movement of her body is enough for dainsleif's arm to find its way around her waist, holding her in place. he does not let go of her hand; if anything, his grip on it tightens, and he does not realize the strength he's using to hold onto her.
had it been a bad idea to ask her to come outside? he'd never forgive himself if she were to be harmed, no matter the reason.
he sighs, then. hard. ]
Indeed. Perhaps you should use your authority as princess to convince the king and queen to do something about these stairs. [ hire rhinedottir to replace the sand on the stairs with synthetic grass for all he cares, really.
he pulls her up slowly, setting her back on her feet. his hands don't let go of her. ] Are you hurt?
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good, well-paved roads are often a sign of a flourishing nation. they allow for easier travel between places, aiding citizens, explorers and merchants alike as they go about their day. surely, these stairs are a path that many use to travel to and from khaenri'ah, and if it's currently a safety hazard, then people might as well not visit.
it takes her a full minute to steady her footing again on the staircase and to compose herself, allowing her heartbeat to slow down. she doesn't even realize the grip he has on her hand or the arm around her waist. ]
I'm fine. My foot just slipped.
[ one more breath as she closes her eyes, a deep inhale and exhale. ]
Thank you, Dainsleif.
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it is not weird that people refer to him by his title, he had said before. it is not weird that some people closer to him call him by his name. parents, close friends. why is it that his name on her tongue has such an effect on him? why does it, mundane as it is, make his mind lose focus on what's really important?
she almost got hurt. there's no time to dwell on the way his name had sounded with her voice.
dainsleif lets go of her entirely, suddenly too aware of his touch on her. couldn't the king have summoned someone else? he clears his throat, exerts himself to find composure. this isn't like him. ]
We should turn back. It's only a matter of time until you hurt yourself, and I doubt the king will be pleased to know it has happened under my watch.
[ it is, ultimately, an excuse. his own selfishness is just eating at him, for once. this, too, isn't like him. ]
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it isn't just the sudden chill that seems to have dropped down her spine—is it fear? she doesn't know, she's never feared getting hurt or even dying before—but also the fact that she's finally realized the arm around her waist, the hand tightly holding hers. his touch burns despite the layers of clothes between them, and she only finds that she's able to breathe again when he's finally let her go.
the sound of him clearing his throat also lets her gather her composure, releasing whatever breath she's been holding and softening the tensed muscles in her shoulders.
lumine wants to make an excuse that it's the height (or is it depth?) of the staircase, that air is probably thin where they are. but that's bullshit, and even she knows it. sometimes, being too self-aware has its own pitfalls.
at his suggestion, she presses her lips together, looking up at him. ]
It's fine. [ she's fine, he saved her, she's uninjured. and if she falls again, she can summon her wings. ] I'm sturdier than I look. Besides, what the king doesn't know won't hurt him.
[ dw she won't tattle on him. in any case, she starts walking down the staircase once more. ]
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dainsleif does not attempt to convince her otherwise, it would have no point. once again, he finds himself following her whims with no will or strength to fight them. that will, eventually, be food for thought when he lays in bed to sleep that same night.
still — there's a small, faint smile that surfaces on his face. it's barely noticeable. ]
How many secrets do you intend on keeping from the king?
[ ultimately, as he follows behind her (ever so careful to watch her steps, ever so ready to catch her if she falls, again), the question is voiced in a tone of jest. this, too, he would not fault her for. a nation that is not hers, a nation she does not know. it's the same dance and song, and slowly, he's becoming more lenient in keeping her secrets against his own king.
has he always been this easy to tempt? ]
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either way, he has no choice if he wants to abide by the order given by his king. he could also just drag her back up to the gates, forcing her to remain within the walls of the kingdom. but she also has a feeling he won't do that.
his question, though asked in jest, gets her to look at him over her shoulder. ]
That depends. How many secrets does he intend to keep from me?
[ the reason why she's here, the reason for her title—all of those are unknowns at the moment, information that she's not privy to when she should be. no one wishes to tell her, no one wants to answer her questions.
is she to offer her head on a platter when the time comes? who knows? ]
Saying I would bring strength and hope to the kingdom is a bit too vague for my tastes.
no subject
[ a question for a question, for dainsleif does not have the answer to her own. her assessment about him had been right: he is a man married to his job, a man with a heavy sense of duty. he serves the king, but finds, ultimately, that he serves khaenri'ah first and foremost. there are many things even he himself does not know; after all, wouldn't he have the answer to her most important question, otherwise?
at the very least, the last couple of steps do not cause any accidents. the sand is soft underneath his feet, and with boots as long as their own, he does not have to worry about sand getting in. ]
We go up from here. Let me know if your legs are sore. It will be a long climb.
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If your king wishes for me to believe in him, then is it not fair to ask the same from him?
[ to trust her enough to reveal what her purpose is in this nation. saying that she would supposedly bring some kind of hope to a group of people who don't even know her feels like a salve to a third-degree burn—a temporary palliative to ease one's mind and turn one's attention away. just like the crownless title offered to her.
it's adding insult to the injury of being dragged down from the skies.
lumine doesn't voice out that thought, her footsteps filling in the silence that's fallen upon her. she simply wonders if she should find another way to wake up her brother and perhaps lead him out of this world. ]
If I falter, will you carry me?
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it will be, after all, his king's decision whether he will open up to his supposed princess or not. he would give him advice if asked for, but otherwise, dainsleif is, despite all, just a knight. ]
... [ a pause, because he might have voiced the words he did, but now finds himself speechless. he clears his throat for a moment. ] Yes. It would do you well to save energy for the walk back.
[ he really did play himself here, did he not? ]
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well, she'll save that little offer for later, just in case she does get tired and her legs decide to give in. plus it'll give her more ammo to tease him with later on. always a win, in her opinion. ]
Where are we going anyway?
[ he still hasn't told her anything just like his king. it almost makes her wonder if everyone in khaenri'ah has a tendency to hide secrets more than the normal person. ]
Don't tell me you're leading me to my demise under the guise of acting on your king's orders.
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You will see. Be patient.
[ he isn't about to ruin the surprise, and hates it that he considers it, and wants it to be a surprise. he clears his throat, again, finding himself uncomfortable in his own body. he needs a cold shower, and time to spare to sort out his thoughts.
the path up isn't so arduous. there are elevators they've built themselves, architecture native to khaenri'ah with inscriptions in their tongue. if lumine asks, dainsleif's answer is vague for the most part. workshops, he says, but does not mention what for.
it is only when there is a cold breeze gentle on his skin that he turns to look at her, again. ]
Come.
[ there will be a moment later that dainsleif will second-guess his impulsiveness. the wind announces the end of the tunnel, and he's sure sumeru's desert is no news for her; but if he's lucky (and by his king, he hopes he is), the sundown and the way the stars are plenty on the sky above them, and the hint of northern lights into the distance might just be. khaenri'ah is a nation that thrives underground, but he finds that moments like these are much more appreciated by them than those who take the skies for granted. stars, after all, are a pattern in his clothes, and khaenri'ah's kingdom is called the eclipse dynasty for a reason.
there's a charm to it all, no trees to cover the skies. it's easy to feel small under its size, but he finds it comforting. ]
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granted, khaenri'ah isn't the first nation that's technologically advanced in comparison to the rest of its neighboring countries. but it's curious and a little baffling why they continue to thrive underground when they have the capability to emerge and flourish further aboveground.
she understands that there must be a reason, but considering what they have on hand ...
her gaze flickers around, taking in the sights of the supposed workshop. the smell of iron and fire permeates her nose, the heat a little stifling, so much so that she can almost taste it. still, she doesn't see what's being worked on, and she doubts dainsleif will tell her about it either.
the scent of iron eventually fades as they continue their trek, replaced instead by the dry smell of, well, nothing. and it's not long before they emerge out into the desert, sands extending far beyond what her eyes could see. but that's not what catches her attention, her footsteps slowing as her gaze quickly shifts to the sky above them.
stars dot the night sky, strewn like crystals on velvet fabric, twinkling even in the midst of the pale full moon. ]
It's been a while ...
[ an eternity, it feels like, since she's laid her eyes on the sky again. ]
ive been so busy n tired im so sorry......
but she doesn't seem to hate it, and it soothes the weight in his chest.
khaenri'ah does not take the sky for granted like the other nations do, he thought of saying, but the words die on his lips. after all she has said of him, it does not feel well-suited to speak of his nation in such a moment. so he thinks, and muses, and wonders, and finds himself unable of knowing how to make conversation, or what to even say. he finds, still, that he should not be struggling so much to speak. it's a mysterious thing. ]
... The night sky is the one thing I miss seeing everyday. [ he decides, then, on speaking of his feelings. thoughts he has never once told anyone else. ] The cold breeze, the quiet of the desert. I find it soothing. Do you?
dw about it! i've been sick too, so it's not just you
but as it stands, it seems he knows how to read the room ... even if his discomfort is palpable enough to momentarily distract her. the gap in his outward facade as the knight captain and his personality is quite fascinating, as she's finding it since earlier, and a part of her wonders if he's just inept in terms of handling most people despite his rank.
or at least, people like her. ]
I do ...
[ it reminds her of the many worlds they've been to, all different but having small pockets of land that are the same as the last. a place where they can find familiarity in. she wonders why he had suddenly brought her out here. ]
The only thing missing is the ocean.
you said that and then i got such a nasty cold 🤝
(it is not, however, something that will happen again, if he has anything to say about it. not being sure of his own actions or finding logic in it isn't exactly what he'd call fun, let alone comforting.)
his gaze, at last, leaves the starry sky, and turns back to her. ]
... The ocean is north from here. It's not the shortest trip, so I cannot take you there tonight.
[ next time almost slips out of his tongue. there should be no next time. he's knight captain of the royal guard, not an escort. surely she would be assigned better company, he would return to his duties, they wouldn't talk nearly as much, if at all. as things ought to be.
the cold breeze of the desert night is kind on his skin. the moonlight brings out the blue of his eyes. it is a peaceful night, despite all. these are not things that could be easily achieved in khaenri'ah at all. ]
Tell me about the worlds you have visited.
[ he does not, however, say now, nor does he say tomorrow. it rings, almost, as a promise. she may do it whenever she desires, tonight, come morning, five days from now, three moons in the future. no matter when, he would lend her tales his ears. ]
everyone's just getting sick nowadays. feel better soon!
there's a momentary thought, an impulse that runs through her for one long second as she shifts her gaze from the sky to the north. who's to stop her if she were to drag him to the direction of the sea, a willful attempt to impose herself on him as a princess would to her knight. he's sure to grumble about it, perhaps even give her a heavy sigh that speaks volumes than an actual lecture, but she's certain he wouldn't leave her be.
he's too righteous and chivalrous to abandon his job of escorting her—even if she's being willfully belligerent.
but she decides against it, unwilling to ruin the evening. instead, she starts walking towards a strange device that looks completely out of place, taking a seat right at its base, stretching her legs in front of her. she can tell it's a teleportation mechanism of some sort, but it doesn't look very khaenri'ahn in nature or structure. she'll have to investigate what it is someday. ]
There's a world out there that's covered by water. Just one great big ocean with no end to its horizon, a bright blue ball floating in the nothingness of space.
[ no land, no trees, nothing for even a bird to perch and rest. she had thought it was pretty back then, the way the edge of the world seems to stretch forever. ]
At night, the sea would sparkle, reflecting the stars of the sky it mirrors.
god. yeah. it took me out for a couple days but i'm better now thankfully!!
she does not, and a part of dainsleif is thankful for it.
instead, she finds herself comfortable, and he tallies after her. she seats herself and he remains standing, the natural noises of the desert few and far between. they would have all been replaced with her voice and her tales, stories of worlds that may or not exist. for dainsleif, who the outside is covered by endless sand, and the nation he has sworn an oath to protect ever so far from natural blues, the idea of a vast nothingness of endless water is— peculiar.
for a moment, he thinks. were he a free man to do as he wishes, not bound to his job, would he have asked her to take him along in her travels?
the idea is not one deserving of thought, and dainsleif discards it. ]
Is that why you wish to see the ocean? A nostalgic feeling, or have you come to appreciate the way it reflects the night sky?
aaaa that's good to hear!! make sure to get lots of rest while recovering, liquids, etc
her gaze flickers sideways to meet his, finding herself reflected in blue as deep as the ocean. a moment later, she's looking away, turning her head towards the direction of the sea where the stars point north. unfamiliar ones, strange bright lights she's never mapped before, and yet instinctively it points her to one direction and only one direction. ]
They say the sky and the sea are paths to different worlds. And that the sky is just another world's ocean and the ocean, if you sink deep enough to its bottom, may lead you to another world through its sky.
[ stories, she's full of them. tales from kings and peasants, farmers and fishers they've met throughout their travels. some are fairy tales, meant for a child unable to sleep; others are truths, passed on from generation to generation until they become fairy tales themselves.
if she perhaps sank deep enough into teyvat's ocean, she might just escape this world through another world's sky. but she can't, not yet. not when aether continues to slumber, unable to resume his journey with her. ]
But then, you wouldn't let me drown myself in the ocean, would you?
[ no, she knows he wouldn't. ]