Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Charlotte wasn’t expecting anything interesting that morning.

She sat just outside a quiet café, notebook open but empty, the city’s familiar buzz carrying on without her. The world moved on its own rhythm—too slow for stories, too fast for patience. Another quiet day.

Until she heard the merchant.

He was standing near a fountain, casually leaning on a crate as he spoke to a loose circle of passersby. His voice wasn’t dramatic—just steady, well-traveled, and easy to listen to.

“I’ve been through this place on the edge of nowhere,” he said. “You wouldn’t even notice it if you weren’t looking for it. But the people there—they talk.”

Charlotte lifted her eyes, pen already twitching in her hand.

“They talk about someone who comes down from the hills every few weeks. Young. Blonde. Doesn’t say much. Buys enough for two, pays without question, and leaves.”

Someone in the small crowd chuckled, but the merchant kept going.

“They say he doesn’t stay in town. Lives out further, past the trails. Alone… or maybe not. Nobody’s sure. But he buys things like he’s not the only one using them. Groceries in twos. Two sets of clothes. Repairs things you wouldn’t fix if you were on your own.”

Charlotte started writing.

“There’s someone else,” the merchant added, quieter now. “A woman. Not often seen, but they say she’s always there. Never far. People say she’s different. Older. Strange eyes. Always watching from somewhere.”

He gave a small shrug. “They don’t say much more. But when he leaves, he always heads the same way. And they say it’s for her.”

Charlotte closed her notebook with a snap and stood.

That was all she needed.

The Steambird office was its usual mess of paper, boots, and rapid voices. Charlotte made a straight line for her editor’s office.

The woman inside barely looked up. “Rumor?”

“Maybe,” Charlotte said, placing her notes on the desk. “A merchant told a story about a man traveling through a remote settlement. Foreign, blond, quiet. Comes down from the hills regularly. Buys things in pairs. Doesn’t linger.”

The editor raised an eyebrow. “And the rest?”

Charlotte hesitated. “They say someone’s with him. A woman. No name. No sightings worth recording. But the people talk like it’s common knowledge. They just don’t question it anymore.”

“Locals always think they know,” the editor said, tapping her desk. “You think it’s the Traveler?”

“I do,” Charlotte replied. “And if it is—he’s not passing through. He’s staying. And hiding something.”

A long pause. Then the editor leaned back, let out a breath, and gave her a slow, knowing nod. 

“Go find out.”

Charlotte grabbed it. “I plan to.”

That evening, Charlotte set off for Natlan.

She didn’t wait. No escorts, no fanfare. Just her, her kamera, her notebook, and a story worth chasing.

Chapter Text

Charlotte stepped into the heart of Natlan’s bustling market, notebook in hand, eyes scanning the crowd.

The place buzzed with warmth—music, firelight, and voices that rose and fell in waves. People moved between stalls with ease, laughter weaving through the scent of roasted fruit, spices, and charred clay pots. She hadn’t even asked a question yet when a hushed conversation caught her attention.

“Traveler was here again this morning—same supplies as always,” one vendor murmured.

“Must be bringing them back to her,” the second said, quieter now. “He’s always running around for her—like the whole town isn’t watching.”

Charlotte paused just long enough to note the phrasing. She stepped forward with practiced ease, offering a polite smile.

“Sorry—did you say the Traveler?”

Both vendors turned. One gave her a knowing look. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“I’m just passing through,” Charlotte said, brushing a bit of dust from her notebook. “But I’ve heard his name mentioned once or twice.”

The first vendor waved a hand. “He’s around. Comes and goes. Always heading back up the trail with something in his arms.”

“For Granny Itzli,” the second added.

Charlotte blinked. “Granny Itzli?”

She kept her tone light, but the pen was already moving in her hand. The name was unexpected—and undeniably personal.

“That’s what we call her,” the first said. “Pink hair, always quiet. Keeps to herself. But no one misses the way he looks at her.”

Pink hair. Keeps to herself.
Charlotte didn’t react outwardly, but the detail clicked into place. It wasn’t much—but it was enough.

“Do you know where I might find them?”

The second vendor pointed toward the outer edge of the plaza. “Try Ororon. Tall, different-colored eyes. He doesn’t talk much, but he knows where they go.”

“He won’t give you much,” the first added, smirking. “But if he tells you anything, pay attention.”

“Thank you,” Charlotte said, closing her notebook. Her smile lingered, polite but thoughtful.

She turned, already mapping out the next steps. 

The trail out of the market was quiet. Trees framed the path like slow-drawn brushstrokes, and the sounds of the plaza faded behind her. With each step, her thoughts aligned like typeset in a headline.

They don’t say “wife.” They don’t say “married.” But everything points that way.

Two of everything. Shared errands. Familiarity, not secrecy.

There was no scandal in their voices. No disbelief. Just… quiet certainty.

She adjusted her satchel and scanned the path again—only to nearly collide with a tall figure rounding the bend.

“Watch it,” the man said, stepping aside.

Charlotte blinked up at him. Mismatched eyes. Calm, steady. “Ororon?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly.

“I’m Charlotte. I’m looking for the Traveler… and Granny Itzli.”

He gave her a long look. Then a small shrug. “Granny and Gramps. They’re usually up ahead.”

Charlotte paused. “Gramps?”

He didn’t elaborate. “Just follow the path. Keep quiet. You’ll know when you’re close.”

She opened her mouth to ask more—but he was already walking away.

“Thanks,” she said, though it felt a little late.

No reply.

She turned to say one last thing—only to realize the trail behind her was already empty.

No sound. No footsteps. He was gone.

Charlotte stood there a moment, notebook against her side.

Granny and Gramps…
The way he’d said it was so natural. No hesitation. Like they weren’t just together—they were settled .

She glanced down at her notes.
Locals refer to her as Granny Itzli. Pink hair. Quiet. Possibly native to the region.
Multiple references to domestic behavior — food for two, books, clothing repairs.
Tone suggests not secrecy, but protection.

It was becoming clear. This wasn’t just a rumor.

It was something real . Something the people here understood well enough to guard with silence.

Charlotte took a breath, refocused, and turned back to the trail.

If they live quietly, I’ll approach quietly.
No flash. No confrontation. Just the truth, if they’re willing to share it.

She flipped her notebook closed and stepped forward again, the cliffs rising gently in the distance.

Whatever this was—
She wasn’t chasing a headline anymore.

She was chasing a story that already belonged to someone else.
And she’d treat it with the care it deserved. 

Chapter Text

Charlotte stepped off the main path, crouching low behind a patch of stone. From here, she had a clear view of the plateau ahead—just enough to see without being seen.

There it was. A small house made of stone, quietly tucked near the edge of the cliff. Simple, a little worn, but well cared for. Some small items were scattered around the front—books, a couple of containers, a cloth hanging from a line. It looked like the kind of place where someone actually lived, not just stayed.

Then she spotted them.

Aether was seated on the front steps, his usual outfit looking familiar—nothing too formal, nothing too new. He leaned back casually, arms resting on his knees, mid-conversation.

Beside him sat the woman Charlotte had heard so much about.

Pink hair, partly braided. A calm posture. Her clothes were loose and layered, clearly from this region. She held a cup in one hand, listening to him with quiet focus. Her Cryo Vision hung by her side, barely catching the light.

They weren’t sitting particularly close. There were no dramatic gestures. But something about them felt… settled. Familiar. At ease.

Charlotte didn’t reach for her Kamera. She didn’t write anything down. She just watched.

Then—

“Whatcha doing?”

“Wha—!” Charlotte flinched and nearly toppled over, heart jumping.

Hovering beside her was Paimon, arms folded, brows raised.

“You spying or something?” she asked, tone flat but curious.

Charlotte stood quickly, brushing herself off. “I—I wouldn’t call it spying. More like… observing. Quietly. Respectfully.”

Paimon blinked. “Still spying.”

Charlotte exhaled through her nose. “You’re quiet for someone who floats.”

“I get that a lot,” Paimon replied with a smirk.

Down by the house, Aether and Citlali hadn’t noticed. They were still talking, unhurried. Citlali smiled slightly as she listened, fingers brushing the rim of her cup.

Charlotte watched a little longer, thoughtful.

“…They seem close,” she said softly.

“They are,” Paimon replied, quieter now.

Charlotte nodded slowly. “More than close.”

She hesitated. “Are they…?”

Paimon glanced her way. “Off the record?”

Charlotte held up a hand. “Off the record.”

Paimon hovered a little lower. “They’re married.”

Charlotte blinked. “Seriously?”

Paimon nodded. “They didn’t tell anyone at first. Not because they were hiding it or anything—it just wasn’t something they were gonna shout to the world. It’s private, y’know?”

Charlotte processed that in silence, her eyes still on the pair below. “So… why now?”

Paimon shrugged. “They didn’t plan to. But then someone came along. Asking questions. Following whispers. That’s you.”

Charlotte didn’t answer right away. She sat on a nearby rock, notebook untouched in her lap. Her fingers tapped the cover once, twice.

Not hidden. Just theirs. And somehow… I ended up in the middle of it.

Paimon floated beside her. “So, what now? You gonna walk away?”

Charlotte stared at the quiet house again. The people inside it.

“No,” she said at last. “I want to hear it from them. From her.”

She stood again, brushing off her coat and adjusting her Kamera strap.

Paimon crossed her arms. “Good. Just don’t be weird. She’s not really a public person.”

“I noticed,” Charlotte said. Then she offered a quiet smile. “But she’s not invisible either. Not anymore.”

Paimon tilted her head, almost approvingly. “You’re not as nosy as most reporters.”

“High praise,” Charlotte replied dryly.

And with that, she stepped out from behind the rocks and began walking slowly toward the house—toward the Traveler’s bride.

Chapter Text

Charlotte didn’t get far before they noticed her.

Aether was the first to look up, calm as ever. The woman beside him—pink hair half braided and glinting in the light—followed his gaze, her expression sharpening slightly. Paimon floated beside them, arms crossed, already waiting.

“Charlotte?” Aether said, standing.

She gave a small wave. “Hi. I… wasn’t sure if I should come closer.”

“You’re here now,” he said easily.

The pink-haired woman tilted her head. “She was definitely hiding behind something.”

Aether gave her a gentle glance. “Citlali.”

“I’m not wrong,” Citlali said, but there was no bite in it.

Charlotte stepped into view fully, adjusting the strap of her Kamera. “Charlotte. Reporter for The Steambird —and friend of Aether’s. We met during the Fontaine mess.”

Citlali studied her a moment, unreadable. “That paper with the dramatic headlines.”

“And photos,” Paimon added. “Lots of them.”

Charlotte laughed awkwardly. “Guilty. Though I try not to exaggerate.”

Aether looked between them with calm amusement. “Charlotte, this is Citlali. My wife.”

There it was—clear and undeniable. Charlotte straightened slightly, blinking.

“So it’s really true. You’re married.”

Citlali arched a brow. “Surprised?”

Charlotte exhaled. “A little. I mean—rumors spread all the time, but I didn’t expect this one to be real .”

“Guess it is,” Citlali said plainly.

Charlotte hesitated, then stepped closer. “Do you mind if I ask how it happened? I mean… the Traveler—married? It’s kind of big news.”

Citlali gave her a long look. “You’re not subtle, are you?”

“Nope,” Charlotte said without shame. “But I’m honest.”

Aether chuckled and gestured toward the porch. “Come sit. Might as well talk if we’re talking.”

The home was warm and lived-in. Handmade charms swayed near the entrance, and the soft scent of spices and ash lingered in the air. The kind of place people returned to—not just passed through.

Charlotte sat near the edge of the porch as Citlali poured tea again. This time, she did so without commentary, just quiet, focused movement. Aether sat beside her like it was the only place he ever needed to be.

Citlali handed Charlotte a cup, then settled into her seat. Paimon floated overhead, munching on something dried and sweet.

“So,” Charlotte started, leaning forward, “how did this start? Really?”

Aether and Citlali exchanged a look.

“It just… happened,” Aether said. “After things calmed down.”

“After the fighting, the traveling, all of it,” Citlali added. “One of us said something. The other agreed.”

Charlotte blinked. “That simple?”

Citlali shrugged. “Yeah.”

“We got married not long after,” Aether said, his tone casual. “Kept it small. Quiet.”

“Only a few friends knew,” Citlali said. “We didn’t hide it. We just didn’t tell everyone either.”

Charlotte let that sink in.

“You didn’t want the world to know?”

“We wanted to live it first,” Citlali said. “Before everyone had an opinion.”

Charlotte nodded slowly. “I get that.”

Then, with more hesitation, she asked, “Do you mind if I… eventually publish this?”

Aether glanced at his wife.

Citlali sighed quietly, but there was no resistance in her expression. “It was going to come out eventually.”

“Just write it how it is,” Aether said. “No drama. No twisting it.”

Charlotte smiled. “You have my word.”

They talked a little longer—Charlotte asking sharper questions, her curiosity genuine and her excitement barely contained. But she didn’t pry where she wasn’t welcome, and they didn’t shut her out. It was a careful balance—new trust, but a mutual one.

She noticed how Citlali softened when Aether brushed her hair from her eyes, how she pretended not to smile when he teased her about always forgetting the tea steeping time.

And how Aether didn’t look at anything else the entire time they were together.

Eventually, Charlotte stood.

“One more thing,” she asked, holding up her Kamera gently. “Would you mind if I took a photo of you two? Just one. For the piece.”

Citlali blinked, looked at Aether, then slowly nodded. “One photo.”

Aether smiled and shifted slightly, resting an arm behind her on the bench. Citlali leaned in, still casual, still understated—but unmistakably close.

Charlotte took the picture without saying a word, and somehow it felt like a moment she wasn’t stealing, but being given.

That night, back at her inn, she sat by the window and wrote the whole article in one sitting. Her notes remained closed beside her.

She didn’t need them.

The story didn’t ask to be polished. It only needed to be told.

A quiet love. An honest bond. Two people who chose something simple after a world of chaos.

And just before she signed her name at the bottom, she typed the headline:

Confirmed: The Legendary Traveler Has a Wife

She paused, then smiled.

This was the kind of story you didn’t chase.

You waited—until it let you in.

Chapter Text

Fontaine didn’t wake up to steam or speeches that morning.

It woke up to a headline .

Confirmed: The Legendary Traveler Has a Wife

An exclusive by Charlotte of the Steambird

Right there on the front page was a photo—Aether and a woman with soft pink hair, sitting quietly together under Natlan’s morning sun. No flash. No posing. Just a real, peaceful moment between two people.

Underneath it, the words:

The Traveler’s Wife.

And by the time the city was fully awake, everyone was already talking about it.

At Café Lutece, Navia nearly choked on her croissant.
“Wait— married ? Is that for real?”
Clorinde didn’t even look up from her cup. “The picture’s not faked.”
Navia squinted at the image again. “She’s pretty. Why hasn’t anyone ever heard of her?”
“Because some people live quietly,” Clorinde said with a shrug. “He found someone like that.”

Down at the Opera Epiclese, Freminet stood frozen backstage, the paper open in both hands.
“…I didn’t think he was the type,” he murmured.
Lyney peeked over his shoulder, grinning. “What, to fall in love?”
“No. To get married.”
“I think it’s cute. Should we send something?”
“A gift?”
Lyney nodded. “Maybe fireworks?”
Lynette passed by. “No explosives. Tea.”

Even Furina, who had been oddly quiet for days, burst into a quiet salon waving the paper overhead.
“ Who is she? ” she demanded. “And why wasn’t there a banquet?”
Neuvillette, calm as ever, sat reading the same article. “Because it wasn’t meant to be a performance.”
Furina narrowed her eyes. “That makes it even more suspicious.”

The whole city was alive with it. The Traveler— their Traveler—had settled down. And with someone no one had ever seen before. No titles. No past stories. Just a name now printed in bold: Citlali .

Back at the Steambird headquarters, it was complete mayhem.

Reporters were tripping over each other. Desks were buried in letters and flowers and notes from readers. Someone spilled ink over the backup plates. Another intern collapsed under a pile of reaction letters before noon.

The phones wouldn’t stop ringing.

And in the middle of it all, Charlotte just stood at her desk, sipping her tea like nothing had happened.

Her editor stormed up, waving copies in both hands.
“You broke the city with this article!”
Charlotte blinked. “That was the plan, wasn’t it?”
“You undersold it!” The editor pointed at the headlines again. “We’ve got letters from every region. Even the libraries want official transcripts. Libraries , Charlotte!”

“She’s real,” Charlotte said, unbothered. “And they’re happy. That’s the story.”

The editor paused for a moment… then let out a long sigh.

“Fine. Just—brace yourself. This is bigger than any scoop we’ve ever had. Everyone wants to know everything now.”
She leaned in. “You might’ve just uncovered the biggest love story in Teyvat.”

Charlotte looked down at the photo again. At the way Aether leaned slightly toward the woman beside him. At how she wasn’t even looking at the camera. Just… him.

Aether and Citlali.

The Traveler and his wife.

And this—this was just the beginning. 

Sumeru didn’t react with chaos.

It reacted with curiosity.

The headline reached the rainforest by midday, carried by scholarly caravans, merchant runners, and one very enthusiastic forest ranger. Word spread through the Akademiya like wildfire—quiet, respectful wildfire laced with theory and tea.

At Gandharva Ville, Tighnari was the first to read it—twice, just to be sure.

He sat under the shade of a broad-leafed tree, tail twitching slightly as he held the paper up in one hand and a mug of herbal tea in the other.
“Well,” he muttered, “I didn’t see that coming.”

Collei peeked over his shoulder. “Who’s that with him?”
“She’s named Citlali,” Tighnari said. “Seems to be a local from Natlan. Not much else is known.”
“She looks kind,” Collei said with a soft smile.

Nearby, Cyno was already halfway through the article, unmoving, eyes locked on the page as if deciphering an ancient prophecy. He turned the paper slightly and said without looking up,
“‘Love doesn’t need a grand reason. Sometimes it just stays.’ That’s good writing.”

Tighnari quirked an eyebrow. “That’s not part of the article.”
“I made it up.”
“…Are you practicing lines again?”
“Maybe.” Cyno glanced up. “They’re strong. The kind of bond that doesn’t ask for attention. It’s… admirable.”

Back at the Akademiya, the article was dissected more thoroughly than a thesis.

A group of students debated Citlali’s origin.
“Is she an elemental scholar? Her name sounds like it has linguistic roots in ancient desert dialects.”
“Look at her Vision. That’s not Sumeru-style engraving. That’s Natlan.”
“But she has paint markings—those could be ritualistic. There might be a cultural link to early tribal—”
“She’s his wife . Let it go.”

Even Alhaitham briefly skimmed the article between paperwork. He offered no commentary. Only set it aside with a soft:
“Huh. Good for them.”

Kaveh, however, had thoughts. Loud ones.
“Look at how candid this photo is! The natural lighting! The body language! This is love, not some artificial arrangement!”
Alhaitham didn’t look up. “Are you critiquing the article or planning your own wedding again?”
“I’m saying we need to publish more love stories. Real ones!”

Out in the desert, scholars carried copies of the paper on their research expeditions. Some speculated Citlali had once trained as a shaman in seclusion. Others were more enchanted by the idea that someone like the Traveler could fall in love at all.

Within the Sanctuary of Surasthana, Nahida gently lowered the paper onto her lap after reading the headline aloud.

“The Traveler’s wife…” she whispered, thoughtful. “He must’ve found a place his heart could rest.”

She looked out the window toward the distant treetops, a gentle smile on her face.
“I wonder if he knew… that we would all be happy for him.”

Behind her, Wanderer scoffed as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed.
“Or horrified. Depends on your perspective.”

Nahida tilted her head. “And what’s yours?”

He paused for a beat, then shrugged. “If he found someone worth staying for, I guess that’s rare enough to count as impressive.”

She smiled at him, knowingly. “Spoken like someone who understands more than he admits.”

“Tch,” Wanderer muttered, turning away. “Don’t get used to it.”

And amidst the theories and quiet awe, one sentiment prevailed:

The world had watched the Traveler fight gods and monsters. But now, they were watching him do something far rarer—stay. 

In Inazuma, the news reached the islands on the first morning ferry.

The article spread quickly—across sakura-lined streets, into tea shops, between storm-worn hands, and beneath paper lanterns swaying in the wind. It passed from samurai to shrine maiden, from artisan to aristocrat, each one reading it with the kind of reverence normally reserved for local legends.

At the Kamisato Estate, Ayaka read the article in quiet stillness, seated near the inner garden. A breeze carried a few petals across her lap as she traced each line with her eyes, slowly.

When she finished, she folded the paper gently and placed it beside her.

“…I always wondered what he was searching for,” she said softly. “Perhaps he found it in her.”

Across from her, Thoma gave a gentle nod as he poured tea.
“He deserves it,” he said. “Peace. Stability. Someone to come home to.”

Ayaka looked toward the horizon. “I hope she’s good to him.”

“She must be,” Thoma replied with a smile. “He stayed, didn’t he?”

Farther down the coast, fireworks cracked the morning silence.

Yoimiya tossed aside her tools and held the paper up to the sun, squinting at the photo.
“Ha! I knew there was something going on!” she grinned. “Look at them! Cozy as can be!”

Beside her, a group of children peeked at the page.
“Is that the Traveler?” one asked.
“Who’s that lady with him?” said another.

Yoimiya beamed. “That’s Citlali. His wife! She must be really special.”

“Are you gonna make them fireworks?”
“Oh, you bet I am,” she said proudly. “And not just any kind—this’ll be a sky full of stars. For them.”

At the Grand Narukami Shrine, the sacred quiet was briefly broken by the whisper of silk and the rustle of paper.

Yae Miko read the article with one eyebrow slightly raised, lips curved in that eternal fox-like smile.
“Well, well… So our mysterious little hero found someone worthy of keeping his heart,” she murmured.

One of the shrine maidens tilted her head. “You sound amused, Lady Miko.”

“I’m delighted,” she said simply. “Love stories are much harder to craft than tragedies. And yet… he found his ending without needing a single twist.”

And from within the Tenshukaku, even Raiden Ei gave it her attention.

She stood beneath a flowering branch, the article held between steady hands. The photo was simple, the words straightforward, but she stared at it as if it held the meaning of eternity.

“…To walk with another, rather than alone…” she whispered.

For a time, she said nothing else. Only stared at the image of Aether and Citlali—two souls who had chosen to stay beside one another.

“Perhaps,” she said at last, “that is a form of eternity, too.”

And so, in Inazuma—land of unchanging ideals and fleeting moments—the news settled like spring rain.

It didn’t shake the ground.

It didn’t need to.

It simply lingered, quiet and warm, like a memory that would not fade. 

By the time the morning mist had cleared from the harbor, the article had already reached every street in Liyue.

Copies of The Steambird were spread across the tables of bustling tea houses, pinned to the back walls of antique shops, and tucked under the arms of merchants walking between piers. The title— The Traveler’s Wife —was impossible to miss, and for a people long used to the quiet strength of the Outlander, it was a revelation.

At Wanmin Restaurant, Xiangling sat cross-legged on a kitchen crate, her apron dusted with flour, the article held inches from her face.

“Married?” she muttered. “Seriously? The Traveler?”

Guoba blinked beside her, munching on a turnip slice.

She grinned, flipping the page. “Hah! I knew he had a soft side! I bet she’s an amazing cook. What if I made them something special next time they’re in town… something spicy but sweet!”

From behind the counter, Chongyun leaned in to take a look, already sweating nervously. “Spicy? Are you sure that’s appropriate… for a married couple?”

“Of course it is!” Xiangling chirped. “Love needs flavor!”

A few blocks away, Zhongli sat at a quiet tea pavilion, slowly reading the article with steady hands. His tea had gone cold, untouched. Across from him, Hu Tao balanced on her seat, peeking upside-down at the paper.

“Sooo~ he got married, huh?” she said, grinning. “Didn’t see that coming.”

Zhongli did not look up. “Even a traveler may find a place to stay, when the journey offers more than direction… when it offers meaning.”

Hu Tao blinked, then chuckled. “I was gonna say ‘he found love and called it a day,’ but yours works too.”

He smiled faintly. “It is rare to witness something endure beyond a single lifetime’s tale. Yet… here we are.”

At the cliffs above the city, Ganyu stood quietly with her copy, eyes scanning the lines slowly. The morning sun lit her pale features, her breath catching just once at the photo of the couple seated together beneath Natlan’s rising sun.

“They look so peaceful,” she murmured.

From behind her, Shenhe glanced over her shoulder. “He has found his balance.”

“Do you think people will leave them alone?” Ganyu asked softly.

Shenhe was quiet for a moment. “Some will. Others… won’t. But I believe they’re ready.”

Back down at the harbor, Yelan passed a group of merchants animatedly discussing the story. She caught a few lines in passing—“pink-haired local,” “kept secret,” “married in Natlan”—before she chuckled and kept walking, flipping open her own copy.

“Well, I suppose everyone’s got a secret,” she said under her breath. “Even him.”

She folded the paper with a slight grin. “Guess I lost a bet.”

At the Jade Chamber, even Ningguang set aside her ledgers long enough to read the article. She traced Charlotte’s byline, nodded once in quiet approval, and then passed it to Keqing, who read it in silence.

“Aether… married,” Keqing said slowly, brows drawn. “That’s going to cause quite the stir.”

Ningguang poured herself a cup of tea. “Let it. It’s an honest piece. Let the world adjust itself for once.”

And so, in the heart of Teyvat’s oldest city, the story settled in.

Not with fanfare, not with disbelief—
But with measured acceptance.

As if even Liyue’s unshakable stones paused for a moment to acknowledge the quiet, powerful truth:

The Outlander had chosen love. 

In Mondstadt, the morning wind carried more than the scent of dandelions.

It carried whispers.

By the time the bells chimed above the Cathedral’s spire, The Steambird had already been passed from the hands of knights to bards, from shopkeepers to scholars. Word of the article spread faster than even the anemo currents—The Traveler. Married. A wife with pink hair. Hidden in Natlan, now named.

The city stirred with a different kind of energy. Not the usual morning bustle of deliveries or song, but a quiet thrill.

At the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, Jean sat behind her desk, the paper laid neatly before her. Her eyes scanned the story, absorbing every line with the same focus she brought to battle. The sunlight that filtered through the window seemed almost to linger on the photo at the center.

“He always walked ahead of us all,” she said softly.

Across from her, Lisa leaned on one elbow, a lopsided smile on her face. “Mmm… quite the turn of events. I thought there was something different about him the last time he visited.” She tapped her chin. “Warmth in his eyes… maybe that was her.”

Jean nodded, fingers lingering on the page. “I hope they found peace.”

Just outside the building, Amber came rushing in with her own copy, waving it over her head.

“Did you see?!” she shouted. “Aether’s married! Her name’s Citlali! They look so cute together!”

Eula, walking past with a stack of training logs, blinked once. “Married?” she echoed. “Well… I suppose it makes sense. He always moved like someone with a purpose.”

Amber grinned. “I wonder what she’s like! Do you think she’s a good archer? Ooh, maybe she rides a fiery beast or something!”

Behind them, Mika adjusted his glasses, glancing shyly at the photo. “She looks gentle… I think they make a nice pair.”

At The Cat’s Tail, the mood was already celebratory.

Diona, despite her usual disdain for alcohol, allowed a round of fruit cocktails to be served in honor of “The Traveler’s surprising good taste.”

Even Diluc, reading quietly behind the counter at the Dawn Winery, allowed himself a faint smile.

“He deserves something of his own,” he said to no one in particular, folding the article and setting it aside.

On the streets of the city, Bennett nearly tripped over his own boots trying to find someone to talk to about it.

“Did you read it?! Did you see? I mean, the Traveler—married?! That’s, like, legendary stuff! Do you think they need a wedding band for adventures?! I could make one! Or maybe… oh no, what if I missed the wedding?!”

Near the statue of Barbatos, Venti lounged lazily, strumming his lyre.

He didn’t read the article. He didn’t have to. He already knew.

Instead, he sang.

A gentle melody with no words, letting the wind carry his blessing wherever the Traveler now walked.

As for Noelle, she read the article twice before quietly folding it into her satchel.

“I’m happy for them,” she said with a soft smile. “True love like that… it’s something worth protecting.”

From taverns to rooftops, the City of Freedom did what it did best.

It celebrated.

Not with noise or judgment, but with open arms. With cheers and smiles and the occasional round of drinks offered in the Traveler’s name.

Because in Mondstadt, love—like freedom—was always something worth raising a glass to. 

Back in the quiet cliffs of Natlan, far from the waves of chatter spreading through every city, the house stood just as still as ever.

The rising sun cast long light over the stone porch. Aether sat quietly with a cup of tea in hand, the warmth of it still rising into the cool morning air. Citlali was curled beside him beneath a thin blanket, pink hair unbraided, her cheek resting on her hand.

Paimon hovered a little ways off, looking between the two of them with her arms crossed.

“So…” she said, breaking the silence gently, “everyone knows now.”

Aether didn’t look surprised. He just nodded once. “…Yeah.”

Citlali exhaled softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “We knew it would happen eventually. Just didn’t think it would happen this fast.”

Paimon floated down to sit on a beam above them. “It was a good story. You two looked… happy.”

Aether gave a quiet smile. “We were. We are.”

Citlali’s eyes flicked toward the horizon. The breeze tugged gently at the cloth canopy above them. “But the quiet part’s over, isn’t it?”

Aether glanced her way. “Probably for good.”

She didn’t look upset. Not exactly. Just… thoughtful.

“All those years of moving in the shadows, and now they’re talking about me in every nation,” she murmured.

Paimon gave her a sympathetic look. “They’re curious. But it’s not bad. You were part of his life for a long time. It makes sense they’d want to know.”

Citlali leaned into Aether a little, her hand brushing against his. “I didn’t expect to be seen like this. Not by everyone.”

“You didn’t ask for the spotlight,” he said gently.

“I didn’t ask for you either,” she replied, teasing faintly.

He laughed under his breath. “And yet, here we are.”

Their hands found each other without needing to look.

“It’ll be noisy,” Citlali said. “Letters, attention… maybe even pressure.”

“Yeah,” Aether agreed. “But we’ll get through it.”

Paimon hovered closer, her voice softer now. “So… are you okay? With all of this?”

Citlali thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. “It’s strange. But it’s real. And if it’s us, then it’s worth it.”

They sat in silence for a while. The sun climbed higher. Birds called faintly from the cliffs. But the moment held its stillness.

Aether looked down at their joined hands, then back toward the morning light.

“No more hiding,” he said quietly.

“No more peace and quiet,” Citlali added with a dry smile.

Paimon stretched in the air. “Guess that means the world’s going to want answers.”

“Let them wonder a little longer,” Citlali murmured, leaning against Aether again. “For now, I just want five more minutes.”

Aether chuckled, his voice barely above the breeze. “Five minutes. Then whatever comes next.”

They didn’t speak after that.

Just the three of them, sharing a quiet that might be one of the last. A small space of stillness before the world came knocking.

Chapter Text

The first gift arrived the morning after the article went live.

Citlali noticed it right away—leaning gently against the doorframe, wrapped in warm-toned cloth and tied with a soft silk ribbon. No footsteps in sight. No knock or call. Just a quiet offering left in the early light.

She bent down, untied the ribbon, and peeled back the layers. Inside: dried Valberries, two polished crystal butterflies, and a folded note that simply read:

“For the journey that led you here. — Mondstadt”

She stared at the note for a long moment, lips pressed in thought. Then, without a word, she stepped back inside and placed the bundle carefully beside the window.

Aether glanced over. “Everything okay?”

She nodded once. “Just… a gift.”

That was the first.

By the end of the week, there were seven more.

Some came with names. Others didn’t. They varied—some delicate and hand-crafted, others a bit clumsy, but heartfelt all the same. A carved wooden figure from Sumeru, a set of hand-painted teacups from Liyue, a cookbook with sticky notes from Inazuma, and even a bottle of aged Fontaine wine with a card that read:

“For your next quiet evening.”

Citlali held the bottle up to the light, impressed. “Ooh. Good year.”

Aether raised a brow. “You can tell just by looking?”

“I know what I like,” she said, setting the bottle down with a grin.

Paimon hovered behind her. “Hey, if you don’t want it—”

“Not a chance.”

They laughed—because what else could they do?
It didn’t feel invasive. Not yet.
No one knocked. No one came asking for more. Just quiet things, small things, left in appreciation. Not for what they did, but for who they were.

For a time, it felt manageable. Sweet, even.

But the bundles didn’t stop.

By the second week, the porch was overflowing.

Packages piled in neat stacks—some wrapped in cloth, some not wrapped at all. Ribbons tangled around the doorknob. A few boxes came with notes; others just bore their names in elegant scrawls or childlike scratches.

One crate held five swords, three teapots, and a painting of a mushroom that looked eerily like Paimon.

Citlali squinted. “…Is that supposed to be you?”

Paimon gasped. “Hey!!”

Aether just blinked. “I don’t think it’s not her.”

Citlali exhaled as she stepped over a cluster of vases. “This is starting to feel like a shrine.”

Aether crouched by a pile of plush toys shaped like slimes. “When did we even get these?”

“We didn’t,” Citlali muttered. “They just... showed up.”

The quiet home they’d built—the hidden peace they’d made—was slowly turning into a treasure trove of affection from every corner of Teyvat.

“It’s sweet,” Aether admitted, glancing around.
Citlali folded her arms. “It’s a lot.”

They didn’t resent it.
Not really.

But the shift was there—subtle, like the feeling of eyes watching from a distance. Not intruding, but not invisible either.

Even errands had changed.

At the market, people stopped them gently, offering fruit or flowers or notes tucked in folded cloth. Some just waved. Others whispered. Some asked questions.

Citlali took it all in stride—smiling, deflecting, sometimes teasing.
Aether smiled too, but quieter. A little more overwhelmed.

“They’re curious,” she said once, as they walked back from the stalls.

“They’re nosy,” Aether replied.

“They’re both.”

The porch filled. The shelves filled. Their lives—still quiet, still grounded—had begun to hum with the world’s attention, even if that attention remained at arm’s length.

They didn’t talk about it. Not at first.
But they felt it. In every unopened parcel. In every “just wondering” letter.
And soon enough, they’d have to decide what to do next. 

The sun dipped low over the cliffs, painting everything in soft orange light. The porch was still, dinner half-finished on the table, forgotten the moment they sat back to breathe.

Citlali had her legs draped across Aether’s lap, one hand lazily twisting a lock of his hair while her head rested against his shoulder. His arm was wrapped around her waist, his other hand resting gently on her thigh.

They hadn’t spoken a word out loud.

“You’re quiet tonight,” she said in his mind, a soft nudge of thought against his.

“So are you,” he replied, a little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his thumb traced slow circles on her side.

“Thinking?”

“Kind of.”

“About?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze flicking to the little pile of unopened letters and parcels stacked near the door.

“Just… how fast everything changed. How we can’t go one day without someone reminding us they know.”

“It’s a lot,” she admitted, brushing her nose against his neck. “But not too much, right?”

“No. Just… different.”

“Different’s okay,” she murmured.

She shifted slightly, curling a little closer into him, hand resting over his heart.

“Do you regret it?”

“Never.”

“Good,” she whispered, her thoughts brushing his with a smile. “Because I don’t either. I wanted this. All of it.”

He tilted his head, their faces close now, the air between them warm and steady.

“You still miss when it was just us?”

“Yeah,” she said, soft and honest. “I liked it when it was quiet. Just you and me.”

“Me too.”

He leaned in then, and she met him halfway.

The kiss was slow—unhurried, familiar. The kind you only share when everything else fades out. Her fingers slipped up to his cheek, keeping him close as the moment stretched.

When they pulled away, they were both smiling.

Then—

“…Okay, did you two die, or are you just doing the weird brain-talking thing again?” came Paimon’s voice from the doorway.

They blinked.

Paimon hovered there, tart in one hand, eyebrows raised. “I’ve been standing here for minutes !”

Citlali let out a quiet laugh, burying her face in Aether’s shoulder. “Paimon.”

Aether chuckled too, still a little dazed. “We were talking.”

“With your mouths?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Not really,” Citlali said with a grin.

“I knew it!” Paimon groaned. “You two are so weird.”

They all laughed, and just like that, the quiet moment softened into something lighter.

But even as the laughter faded, the stillness stayed between them—calm and full, like the world outside had gone quiet just for them.

Chapter Text

It started with the chairs.

They used to have two. Now there were seven—each from a different nation, each carved or painted or embroidered with careful hands and good intentions. The porch looked like a tea room and a museum had gotten into a polite fight and both won.

Aether sat on one of them sideways, head tilted as he tried to make sense of the now-cluttered shelves by the window.

“I can’t find my journal,” he said, half to himself.

“Try under the pile of handwritten sonnets someone sent you,” Citlali offered dryly, stepping over a basket of crocheted scarves.

Aether crouched, lifted a book titled To the Traveler Who Touched the Stars , and blinked. “This one’s laminated.”

Citlali sighed as she passed by the doorway with an armful of bundled letters. “I tripped over a bouquet this morning. Not a vase. A bouquet. Just sitting there. Guarding the breadbox.”

From the ceiling, wind chimes clinked softly—one for each region, each with its own pitch. None of them matched.

Paimon peeked over a stack of plushies near the hearth. “Uh… do we even live here anymore?”

They all paused.

Aether looked at Citlali.

Citlali looked at Aether.

The answer hung in the air with the same weight as the embroidered banner draped over their kitchen shelf that read “To Eternal Love and Searing Passion!”

“I miss our floor,” Citlali muttered, pushing a box of calligraphy pens off a footrest so she could sit.

Aether joined her, dropping beside her with a tired laugh. “Is it too soon to disappear for a bit?”

“Depends,” she said, leaning against his shoulder. “Do you think anyone would riot?”

“They might write a strongly worded poem,” he mused.

“Oh no,” she said deadpan. “Anything but that.”

Paimon hovered closer, now holding a knitted scarf shaped like a radish. “Okay, but if we go anywhere, I’m picking the food spots. Deal?”

“Deal,” Aether and Citlali said in perfect sync.

Citlali nudged his side. “Someplace quiet. Just for a little while.”

Aether reached over, laced their fingers together. “Yeah. Just us again.”

She gave him a kiss—brief, soft, grounding. Then she leaned her forehead against his.

They didn’t need to say anything more. The house could keep overflowing. The world could keep sending blessings and poetry and paintings of Paimon wearing a crown.

But for now, it was time to go. 

The spot they picked wasn’t famous. It wasn’t even marked on any map.
Just a quiet stretch of grass under towering trees, soft light filtering through the leaves. The air was cool and still and peaceful.

They laid out their blanket between two gentle slopes and unpacked what felt like half their pantry.

Citlali raised an eyebrow at the pile. “We packed like we were moving out.”

Aether shrugged as he set down a small crate of fruit. “Didn’t want to forget anything.”

“We have four blankets,” Paimon pointed out, already perched on one with a tart in hand. “And two kettles. Why two?”

“In case one gets tired,” Citlali smirked, unpacking a wooden box filled with spices.

“Or explodes,” Aether added with a grin. “Never know with Natlan kettles.”

They all laughed, the sound mixing with the rustle of leaves. Aether poured tea while Citlali sliced crisp fruit, brushing a strand of hair from her face as a breeze drifted through.

“This is nice,” she said, stretching her legs across his lap. “Still too many blankets. But nice.”

Aether nodded, smiling. “Feels like us again.”

Suddenly, a voice called from the edge of the clearing:
“Surprise!”

Citlali shot upright. “Oh no—”

From the treeline emerged Mualani, bright-eyed and energetic, carrying a basket, with Kinich trailing behind, arms folded but his mouth twitching in a rare smile.

“I told Kinich this was exactly where you’d wind up,” Mualani laughed, setting the basket down. “A hidden picnic spot.”

Kinich took a seat gracefully on the blanket’s edge. “Perfect for two people who avoid the spotlight.”

“Only you two would lead a surprise here,” Citlali replied, trying not to grin.

“Correction,” Mualani said, opening the basket with flair, “I brought dessert.”

Paimon all but dove in. “Yes! Celebration snacking activated!”

Aether stood, offering Kinich a friendly slap on the shoulder and a nod to Mualani. “I didn’t expect company today.”

Kinich gave a dry chuckle. “Neither did we, but the world dialing things up got us curious.”

Citlali passed them both tea. “We just needed a breath.”

Mualani sniffed the air. “Nice aroma. Looks like a good start.”

They settled into a relaxed circle, the afternoon breathing around them.

After a few sips, Kinich leaned back. “I still can’t believe you two managed to keep it secret until the wedding.”

Citlali laughed softly. “Hardest secret ever.”

“You were glowing,” Mualani added, casting a fond smile toward Aether.

Aether shifted. “I was… focused,” he said quietly.

“Focused on making sure she said yes,” Citlali teased, resting her head against his shoulder.

They all laughed again, the sound hovering in the warm light.

Aether sighed softly. “It’s wild. How everything changed after that day.”

Mualani nodded. “Same people, but the world sees you differently now.”

Citlali glanced at Aether. “They expect something big. Even when we just… want to live.”

Kinich shrugged. “They saw something real. That doesn’t happen often.”

Citlali folded her arms. “That doesn’t mean we owe them anything.”

Mualani reached out to squeeze Citlali’s hand. “You don’t. But it still matters—to people.”

Silence settled, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves.

Aether shifted, leaning in. “We didn’t get married to be everyone’s headline.”

“But somehow, we became one,” Citlali whispered, weaving her fingers with his.

Paimon hovered above, arms crossed and watching with pride. “You two are the only couple I’ve seen who didn’t need fireworks or theatrics. Just—you. And that’s… kind of incredible.”

Kinich lifted his cup. “To choosing.”

Mualani joined him gently. “To choosing. Every day.”

Citlali smiled, warmth in her eyes as they turned to Aether. “Even when we mess up which kettle is which.”

All four laughed, voices soft in the dappled sunlight.

For the rest of the afternoon, beneath rustling trees and calm skies, they weren’t the legendary Traveler and his bride.

Just four friends—and one floating force of giggly energy—sharing tea, stories, and a quiet promise that the world could wait. 

As the sky slipped deeper into the soft colors of late afternoon, the group had quieted—tea half-finished, food scattered around them, and not a single reason to move.

Citlali lay back on the blanket, arms folded behind her head, watching clouds roll between the tree branches. Aether sat nearby, one hand resting loosely against her ankle, his thumb tracing slow circles over her skin.

“You ever think about it?” she asked, voice soft.

Aether glanced down at her. “Think about what?”

“Traveling,” she said, still staring up at the sky. “Not the way you used to… but the way I haven’t. I’ve never really left Natlan. Not properly.”

Aether didn’t say anything at first. He just watched her, eyes gentle.

“I want to see it for myself,” she continued. “The things you saw. The places that made you want to help people. Want to stay. I want to understand what made you fall in love with Teyvat… with all of it.”

Aether’s voice was warm when he finally spoke. “You already understand more than you think.”

Citlali turned her head, meeting his gaze. “I still want to see it.”

He smiled. “Then let’s go.”

She blinked. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah. You and me.”

“Well, not just you and her,” Paimon chimed in from the other end of the blanket, licking jam off her fingers. “I’m not staying behind with that fortress of plushies and teapots.”

Citlali laughed. “Fair.”

She sat up slowly, brushing crumbs off her skirt. “We’ll need someone to keep an eye on the house while we’re gone. And someone to stop the neighbors from thinking we ran away.”

Mualani gave her a look. “Was that your way of asking nicely?”

Kinich raised his hand. “I’ll take care of it. But only if you leave the good snacks.”

Citlali grinned. “Half the pantry is yours. The other half’s coming with us.”

“We can ask a few others to help too,” Aether added. “Split up the extra stuff. Keep things from getting out of control again.”

Citlali tilted her head. “Think they’ll mind?”

“They’ll get it,” he said. “They know what this means.”

There was a quiet pause as that idea settled. Not hesitation—just the weight of something real.

Citlali exhaled through her nose, slow and steady, then nodded. “Alright. I’m in.”

Aether leaned in, brushing a kiss against her temple. “We’ll take our time.”

“We always do,” she murmured, nudging her forehead against his.

Mualani leaned back on her elbows, looking out at the horizon. “So when do you leave?”

“Tomorrow,” Citlali said. “Before the sun’s up.”

Paimon let out a mock gasp. “So early?!”

Kinich rolled his eyes. “You’ll survive.”

They all shared a small laugh—familiar, light—and for a moment, the world didn’t feel so heavy.

Let Teyvat whisper. Let them wonder where the Traveler and his wife had gone.

Because soon, they’d be walking new paths, side by side.

Chapter Text

The day started earlier than usual.

Aether adjusted the straps of his bag, rolling up a spare cloak before tucking it neatly against the side. Citlali was nearby, double-checking a satchel full of travel necessities—tea leaves, dried fruit, extra writing paper, and at least three charms she swore were “for peace of mind.”

Paimon hovered above the cluttered table, counting on her fingers. “Okay, we’ve got food, maps, extra socks, those weird candies from Sumeru… What else?”

“Less talk, more sorting,” Citlali muttered, tying a knot in the second bag.

Their home was still bursting at the seams—gifts from across Teyvat tucked into every corner, handwritten letters stacked high in baskets by the window. The scent of dried flowers and ink clung faintly to the air.

Aether slipped the last of their things into place and straightened. “I think that’s it.”

Just then, a soft knock tapped against the frame of the open door.

Ororon stood in the doorway, silent as ever. His arms were folded across his chest, and his expression unreadable—until his gaze flicked to the bags by the door, and then to Aether and Citlali.

“You’re really leaving,” he said quietly.

Citlali turned with a small smile. “Not forever.”

“We’ll be back,” Aether added. “We just… need some space. To breathe.”

Ororon looked at them for a long moment. Then, slowly, he stepped inside.

“Mualani and Kinich told me,” he said, voice low but steady. “Said you’d be gone for a while. Figured it had something to do with that article.”

Citlali chuckled under her breath. “You figured right.”

Ororon glanced around at the house—now more shrine than home, filled with tokens from strangers and well-meaning admirers. He didn’t say anything at first.

Then: “It’s too much,” he said simply.

Aether nodded. “That’s what we thought too.”

Ororon stepped closer, his tone gentler. “But it means something, you know. The way people responded. What they see in the two of you.”

“We know,” Citlali said. “It’s just… hard to hold all that attention without losing the parts that are ours.”

Ororon gave a small, thoughtful nod. “So you’re leaving to find them again.”

Citlali smiled. “Yeah. Something like that.”

He looked at her for a second longer, then said quietly, “I’ll help Mualani and Kinich keep things in order here. Make sure no one burns the place down.”

Paimon perked up. “Oh, you’re helping too? Great! Then I won’t feel bad about leaving the chaos behind!”

Ororon just raised an eyebrow. “Wasn’t doing it for you.”

Paimon stuck her tongue out but grinned anyway.

Aether stepped forward and offered his hand. “Thank you.”

Ororon hesitated, then shook it firmly. “Take care of each other. Don’t rush back. We’ve got this.”

Citlali moved past them, reached out, and placed a hand briefly on Ororon’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch, didn’t move—but his eyes softened just a little.

“We’ll bring back something good,” she said. “Something small.”

“Something quiet,” he added.

She nodded. “Exactly.”

As the trio made their final checks, Ororon turned back toward the porch and quietly sat on the top step, watching the morning light spread over the hills. He didn’t say anything else—but he didn’t need to.

He’d stay. Keep watch. Hold the space until they came home.

The three of them stood in the center of their crowded home, surrounded by memories and kindness and far too many teapots.

Citlali exhaled. “Alright. Time to go before I change my mind.”

Aether smiled. “Too late.”

Paimon zipped toward the door. “Next stop: Fontaine!” 

“Wait, wait—hold up,” Kinich said, jogging a few steps ahead. “Is that all from today?”

Mualani slowed beside him, her brows rising as she took in the small mountain of parcels clustered around the doorway. Boxes, bundles, wrapped satchels, ribbon-tied crates—some leaning dangerously against one another.

“Looks like it,” she said with a sigh. “Again.”

The front door creaked open from the inside.

Ororon stepped out, arms folded and expression already unimpressed. “They just left.”

Mualani crossed her arms. “We figured. Saw them heading out from the ridge trail.”

Kinich tilted his head. “You didn’t try to stop them?”

Ororon gave him a look.

“…Right,” Kinich mumbled. “Bad question.”

Mualani stepped forward, gently nudging one of the boxes with her boot. “So. This is our day now.”

Ororon nodded once. “They packed light. Took only what they needed. Rest’s on us.”

Kinich crouched by a parcel that was half-unwrapped, revealing what looked like a crystal chime in the shape of a hummingbird. “Who even sends this stuff? Do they think Citlali’s secretly building a floating shrine?”

“She’d probably be flattered,” Mualani said, smirking.

“Only for a minute,” Ororon muttered. “Then she’d threaten to melt it down.”

“Sounds about right,” Mualani said, already lifting one of the lighter crates.

Kinich stood back up, brushing his hands off. “They going far?”

Ororon shook his head. “Didn’t say. But they’ll be gone a while.”

There was a brief silence as the three of them looked over the gifts again, this overwhelming outpour of admiration that now needed sorting, storing, or shipping elsewhere.

“They really couldn’t have waited a few more days?” Kinich asked with a crooked smile.

Mualani shot him a look. “Would you, if the whole world kept leaving tokens at your doorstep?”

“…Fair.”

“I don’t blame them,” Ororon said quietly. “Things got loud. And they’re not loud people.”

Mualani nodded in agreement. “They just wanted to love each other in peace. Doesn’t seem like much to ask.”

Kinich started stacking a few boxes near the wall, making a clear path to the door. “Guess the least we can do is keep the place from collapsing while they’re off being mysterious newlyweds.”

Ororon stepped past them, lifting a large bundle with ease. “Help me get these inside. We’ll sort them later.”

Mualani grabbed another and followed. “You know they’re gonna come back and say we overdid it.”

“Better than coming back to an avalanche,” Ororon replied dryly.

Kinich laughed. “At least let me leave one of the weird ones out for them to find.”

Mualani smirked. “Fine. But not the teapot shaped like Paimon.”

“No promises.”

They worked in comfortable rhythm, hauling and organizing, teasing one another under the fading sun. The couple may have left for their journey, but their home—still nestled among the cliffs of Natlan—remained in steady hands.

And while the world waited for another glimpse of the Traveler and his wife, the quiet ones who knew them best simply kept things going.

Like always.

Chapter Text

Their boat pulled into Romaritime Harbor, drifting in slow and steady. The water lapped gently at the dock, quiet and calm.

Citlali stayed by the railing, holding onto it loosely as she took in the view. Everything about the place felt polished and calm. Neat. Almost like it was holding its breath.

Aether leaned over, bumping her shoulder playfully. “Still nervous?”

She let out a breath, her lips curling into a faint smile. “A little. It’s just… so put-together here. Everyone walks like they’ve done this a hundred times. Meanwhile, I’m just standing here, trying to figure out where to step.”

He laughed softly. “You fit in better than you think.”

Paimon hovered close, her tone upbeat. “Hey, you’re married to the Traveler now—of course people are watching! But they’re not judging. Look at their faces!”

Citlali gave a small smile, but her fingers still tightened a little on the railing.

“It’s not just the attention,” she admitted. “It’s the whole atmosphere. The city feels so… poised. Like it expects you to be flawless the moment you show up.”

Aether gently took her hand, giving it a light squeeze. “They don’t want perfect. They want honest. You saw all the letters and gifts, right?”

She gave him a look. “Most of those were for you.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Half of them mentioned you by name.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “Wait, seriously?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded. “They’re curious—and they already like you.”

A soft cheer floated toward them from farther down the dock.

“Traveler! It’s the Traveler!”

Citlali looked up. A small group had gathered—just a few people with flowers and fans. One person held up a bright sign: Citlali!! Welcome to Fontaine!

Her eyebrows rose. “...That’s new.”

Aether smiled. “Told you.”

As they stepped off the boat, gentle applause and cheers met them. It wasn’t loud or overwhelming—just a few voices calling out, people waving, heads turning with quiet excitement.

Citlali waved back, and the crowd responded with even more smiles.

Together, the three of them moved forward. More people nodded and greeted them in passing, but no one crowded them or pushed. The energy stayed soft—curious, friendly, welcoming in its own quiet way.

They reached the waiting aquabus just as it gently glided up to the dock. With barely a sound, it slowed to a graceful stop alongside the platform.

It was a quiet, open vessel with smooth railings and just enough space to sit or lean, letting passengers take in the full view of Fontaine as they drifted along the water.

Citlali stepped on board and made her way to the front of the vessel. She sat down near the edge, legs tucked to one side, and leaned forward with her arms resting lightly on the handrails. The city stretched before her, reflections of arches and lights dancing gently on the moving water.

Her eyes stayed wide with wonder.

Fontaine didn’t feel overwhelming now. It didn’t demand anything of her. It simply let her watch.

A soft breeze brushed through her hair—cool, fresh, with that familiar scent of clean stone and deep water. She breathed in deeply and closed her eyes for a moment, trying to memorize the feeling.

Aether quietly joined her, sitting close enough that their shoulders touched. He didn’t say anything at first—just settled in beside her and followed her gaze.

After a little while, she broke the silence. “It’s strange.”

“What is?”

“This feeling. I thought I’d be so tense here. I figured I’d stick out everywhere we went. But now… it doesn’t feel like that. The city’s not watching me. It’s just… letting me be.”

He glanced at her, smiling softly. “Maybe it feels that way because of how you see it. Or maybe it’s how you make it feel different for me too.”

She turned slightly toward him. “You think so?”

“I do.”

Their hands met easily—fingers lacing together without needing to try.

Citlali looked back out at the water, her face thoughtful but calm. “Thank you for bringing me.”

Aether gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You brought yourself, love. I’m just lucky I get to be here with you.”

That made her smile.

“I’m glad I came,” she murmured.

The aquabus drifted along the canal, quiet and steady, the wind ruffling their clothes as the city of Fontaine slowly unfolded around them.

She leaned into his side, their hands still joined, and rested her head gently on his shoulder.

Together, they watched the city pass by, not needing to speak, not needing anything more.

The aquabus came to a smooth stop near one of Fontaine’s main platforms, where clean stone paths and gentle steps led up into the heart of the city.  

Citlali stood carefully, still holding Aether’s hand. She stepped off the vessel with quiet awe, her eyes lifting to the ornate buildings and winding walkways that climbed the city’s upper levels like terraced gardens.

The air here felt different—cooler, touched by mist and motion, filled with the soft rush of fountains and distant music. Every corner of Fontaine shimmered like a painting come to life.

Aether gave her hand a squeeze. “You alright?”

She nodded, but her eyes kept drifting. “It feels like I’m walking through someone else’s dream.”

Before he could reply, a voice called from across the plaza.

“There you are!”

They turned to find Charlotte hurrying toward them, notebook in one hand and her hat nearly flying off in the breeze. She caught her breath mid-step, but her smile never faded.

“I had a feeling I’d find you two here,” she said brightly. “And I just had to say—your arrival today? Massive hit. People are already writing songs about it.”

Paimon groaned softly. “Do all the bards work that fast?”

“Faster than you’d think,” Charlotte said, laughing. “And don’t get me started on the fan mail. I had to bring an extra bag just to carry it all.” She turned to Citlali. “You’ve got admirers, you know.”

Citlali blinked. “Me?”

Charlotte nodded. “You’ve got this quiet charm, and people love that. It’s a whole different kind of spotlight.”

“I’m… flattered, I think?” Citlali said softly.

Charlotte grinned. “Definitely flattered. You’re handling it way better than I would.”

She raised her kamera. “Do you mind if I get just one more shot of you two? Nothing dramatic, I promise. Just… a natural moment.”

Aether nodded, and Citlali took a breath, stepping slightly closer to him. His arm came around her shoulders like it belonged there, and she leaned into him without a second thought.

Click.

Charlotte smiled at the result, then tucked her kamera away. “Perfect. No more interviews today, I swear. Just wanted to catch that.”

She turned to leave but paused for a moment, looking back at Citlali with a smaller, more sincere smile.

“Welcome to Fontaine,” she said gently. “You’re doing great.”

Then she disappeared into the crowd, already flipping her notebook open again as she walked.

Citlali stood there for a moment, her expression unreadable—then slowly looked up at Aether.

“I didn’t expect it to feel this… soft,” she said. “All of it.”

“It’s not always like that,” he replied. “But maybe that’s why it matters more when it is.”

She smiled, then leaned into him again.

“Ready?” he asked.

“Yeah. Let’s keep going.”

They hadn’t even made it halfway across the room when people started noticing them.

“There they are!”

“Wait, is that really her?”

Voices rose all around them—quick, excited, and growing louder with every step. A few people were already pulling out their kameras, others whispering to each other like they’d just spotted something out of a dream.

Paimon groaned softly. “Uh-oh. We’ve been made.”

Aether glanced over at Citlali, already feeling her hand tighten slightly around his. She didn’t stop walking, but her eyes darted toward the elevator in the middle of the room.

“We can still make it,” she said quietly.

They tried to keep moving, but the crowd started closing in faster than expected—friendly, sure, but curious. A few were already stepping into their path.

Then, out of nowhere, a loud snap echoed through the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” someone called out, voice smooth and full of flair. “How lucky you are to be in the right place at the right time!”

A burst of color exploded above the crowd—sparkles, ribbons, playing cards spinning through the air. Gasps followed immediately.

“Now, now—let’s not crowd the newlyweds just yet,” the voice added, light and teasing. “You’ll get your moment. But first—watch closely. I’ve got something special for you!”

The crowd turned fast, attention shifting in an instant toward the source of the noise. A few people clapped. Others shouted in excitement. The swarm around Aether and Citlali broke just enough to breathe.

Then—barely a whisper—came a quiet voice by Citlali’s side.

“This way. Stay close.”

She turned slightly, just enough to glimpse a girl slipping past the crowd, moving with easy precision. She didn’t look back.

Aether gave Citlali a nod, and they followed without a word.

They weaved through the open space, slipping past distracted onlookers until they reached the elevator. It stood waiting, mostly ignored in the sudden chaos. The girl stepped inside first and hit the panel, holding the doors open just long enough for them to join her.

Then they were in. The doors slid shut.

Silence.

Citlali let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Paimon floated in behind them, wide-eyed.

“Okay… who was that ?”

Aether smirked a little. “You’ll see.”

The girl didn’t say anything else—just gave Citlali a quick look, then turned her eyes forward as the elevator started moving.

They were out. Just like that.

And whoever those two were—they were very, very good at what they did. 

The elevator slowed to a stop, and the soft chime echoed just as the doors slid open.

Citlali stepped out carefully, still holding Aether’s hand, but the tension had started to ease from her shoulders. The sudden noise and buzz from the crowd upstairs felt like it belonged to another world now.

They emerged into what looked like a quiet reception office—nicer than she expected, with polished counters and a bored-looking clerk behind a desk. The receptionist barely glanced up before going right back to their paperwork.

No questions. No crowd. Just peace.

As the doors slid shut behind them, the girl who’d guided them there finally turned to face Citlali.

Up close, she was smaller than expected—graceful, serious-looking, with a calm expression that didn’t give much away.

“I’m Lynette,” she said simply, her tone soft. “Nice to finally meet you.”

Citlali blinked. “Oh. You already knew who I was?”

“Everyone does,” Lynette replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But it’s better hearing it from you.”

“Oh—right. I’m… Citlali.”

Lynette gave a small nod, then turned toward the nearby door. “We should go. He’s already waiting.”

Without another word, she led them briskly through the side hall.

Citlali followed, her thoughts still catching up. Paimon muttered something about how smooth she was, but Citlali could barely focus. The whole day had felt like a blur, and this quiet, graceful girl was just one more unexpected twist.

Outside the quiet building, the street curved gently beneath the bustle of Fontaine’s upper walkways. It was calmer here, tucked away from the crowds—a welcome change from the attention they’d just escaped.

The person waiting for them was leaning casually against a lamppost ahead, arms crossed, and was the magician from earlier. Same bright smile. Same relaxed confidence. Like he hadn’t just been up there moments ago handling a full crowd.

“Took your time,” he said with a playful tilt of his head. “Was starting to think the elevator broke.”

Citlali blinked. “Wait... how are you already down here?”

Paimon flew up, waving wildly. “Yeah! You were literally upstairs distracting everyone two seconds ago!”

The magician just shrugged. “What can I say? Fontaine’s full of secrets—and shortcuts.”

“That’s not an answer!” Paimon huffed.

Aether just smiled knowingly. “He’s always like this.”

The magician turned his attention to Citlali then, his smile softening. “I’ve been looking forward to this part, though.”

He took a small step forward, hand outstretched, and spoke with genuine warmth.

“Nice to meet you properly. I’m Lyney. Magician, entertainer, and part-time escape artist.”

Citlali shook his hand carefully. “Citlali. Just… Citlali.”

Lyney’s eyes sparkled just a bit too much. “Ah, but you’re not just Citlali anymore.”

She blinked. “What?”

He let the moment hang for dramatic effect, then grinned.

“You’re Mrs. Traveler , aren’t you?”

Citlali’s entire face went red.

“Oh no,” she muttered. “Please don’t start that…”

Aether chuckled beside her, already grinning. “Too late. It’s spreading.”

“I didn’t agree to that name,” she whispered, flustered. “That’s not even how names work!”

Lyney gave a playful bow. “Too late now. It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think? Has a little mystery, a little sparkle.”

“I’d rather just be Mrs. Citlali ,” she mumbled, hiding behind her hand.

“But Mrs. Traveler has flair,” Lyney said. “Besides, you’re already famous. Might as well enjoy it.”

From behind him, Lynette stepped forward quietly and gave a small, polite nod to Citlali. “It suits you,” she said in her usual soft, measured tone.

“Not helping,” Citlali whispered.

Aether gently bumped her shoulder. “You’re really stuck with me now, huh?”

“I’ve noticed,” she muttered—but she didn’t let go of his hand.

Lyney straightened, brushing invisible dust off his sleeves. “Anyway, I won’t keep you two. Just wanted to make sure you got a proper welcome.”

He tipped his hat, still grinning. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again.”

He and Lynette turned and headed down the street, vanishing as quickly as they’d appeared.

Citlali stared after them for a moment before groaning softly. “I can’t believe that’s a thing now.”

“You’re lucky they didn’t print it on shirts,” Aether teased.

She shot him a look. “Don’t give them ideas.”

But he leaned closer and murmured, “Still... I kind of like it.”

She blushed, but didn’t argue. Just squeezed his hand tighter as they kept walking—her smile small, but very much there.

They walked together down one of Fontaine’s quieter streets, hand in hand, as the warm glow of early evening settled over the city. It was calmer now. The buzz from earlier had softened into something gentler—curious smiles from passersby, a few quiet waves, and some nods of recognition that didn’t feel intrusive.

Citlali relaxed a little more with every step.

One older gentleman tipped his hat politely as they passed. A flower shopkeeper called out a cheerful “Welcome!” from her doorway, no pressure or fuss—just genuine warmth.

“This is… actually kind of nice,” Citlali murmured.

Aether glanced over at her. “Only kind of?”

She smiled. “Okay, very nice.”

They turned the corner and stopped in front of a beautifully kept hotel nestled between two tall buildings. It wasn’t massive, but it stood with quiet confidence—refined but warm, the kind of place that didn’t need to show off. Its sign shimmered faintly in gold lettering, and the soft lights inside gave off an inviting glow.

The moment they stepped through the front doors, the atmosphere shifted.

The lobby staff paused, wide-eyed, as if unsure they’d seen right. Then someone gasped softly. Whispers started—then quickly stopped as the manager appeared like clockwork, already smoothing his jacket as he walked.

“Welcome,” he said with practiced poise and a warm smile. “It is an absolute honor to have you both here. We’ve been expecting you.”

One of the clerks stepped forward quickly, giving a respectful bow. “Please, allow us to take your bags.”

Aether handed over both his and Citlali’s travel packs, and they were whisked away almost instantly by the staff.

The manager continued, beaming. “We’ve prepared the Royal Suite. Consider it a small gesture of gratitude—for all you’ve done, not just for Fontaine, but for Teyvat.”

Aether gave a polite nod. “You really didn’t have to, but thank you.”

Citlali stood quietly beside him, taking everything in. The way the staff moved with precision and purpose, the way no one asked questions—just offered help, comfort, and respect. It felt like a dream.

She leaned in and whispered, “This is… a bit much.”

He smiled, leaning closer. “You married me. This is your life now.”

She shot him a quick, embarrassed look. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Mrs. Traveler,” he teased under his breath.

She groaned, flustered. “Stop.”

He just grinned.

By the time they were shown to their room, the rest of the hotel had settled back into a respectful quiet, the staff bowing slightly as the door to their suite was opened with a flourish.

The moment they stepped inside, Citlali paused in place.

“…Okay,” she whispered. “This is actually insane.”

The door clicked shut behind them, and just like that, the noise outside faded completely.

They stepped into the Royal Suite—quiet, warm, and way too fancy for either of them. The place was huge, with high ceilings, soft gold walls, and tall windows showing off the city skyline. A polished fireplace sat off to the side near two armchairs, and beyond a set of frosted glass doors was a smaller guest room with its own bed and desk.

But it was the main room that caught their attention.

At the center stood a massive bed—soft ivory sheets, thick royal blue blankets, and pillows fluffed like clouds. The lights were low and cozy, casting a soft glow over the marble floors and plush rugs.

Paimon floated a few feet inside and let out a slow, impressed whistle. “Okay… this is insane . Do rich people really sleep like this all the time?”

Aether laughed. “I think this is just for special guests.”

“Well,” Paimon said, already floating toward the guest room, “I’m claiming that smaller bed before anyone else gets ideas. Wake me if something explodes.”

She disappeared behind the sliding door, leaving Aether and Citlali in the quiet.

Citlali took a slow step forward, turning in place as she looked around the room. “This place is ridiculous.”

Aether dropped their bags onto a cushioned bench at the foot of the bed. “Yeah. But it’s kind of amazing too, right?”

She walked over and pressed her hand into the mattress. “This bed feels like it cost more than our whole house.”

“Guess we’ll have to take it for a test run,” Aether said with a grin.

Without a second thought, she flopped onto the bed with a quiet pomf , letting out a soft groan. “Okay, yeah. I’m never moving again.”

He dropped beside her with a little laugh. “Guess I’m staying here too.”

She rolled onto her side and looked at him. “This kind of welcome still feels… unreal.”

He brushed a bit of hair from her face. “Well, you are the Traveler’s wife.”

Citlali let out a groan and hid her face in his shoulder. “Not this again…”

“What? It’s true,” he teased.

“It just sounds like I don’t have my own name.”

“Fair,” he chuckled. “Then how about Mrs. Citlali ? Sounds way more personal.”

She looked up at him, smiling. “Better.”

“But when it’s just us,” he added with a little smirk, “I’m still calling you my love .”

She didn’t argue. “Good.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “You deserve a break.”

She sighed, settling closer. “So do you.”

Their fingers found each other naturally, slipping together as the quiet settled around them. No pressure. No eyes on them. Just the two of them in a quiet space that finally felt like theirs.

For the first time that day—it felt like home.

The room was still.

Fontaine’s city lights shimmered beyond the windows, casting a soft glow across the quiet suite. Inside, everything felt calm—like the world had finally slowed down just enough to let them breathe.

Citlali lay under the covers, curled against Aether with her head tucked just under his chin. His arms were around her, warm and steady, the two of them sinking into the ridiculously soft bed like it was made just for this moment.

“You alright?” he asked quietly, brushing his thumb along her arm.

“Too comfortable to move,” she mumbled.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to her hair. “That’s a good sign.”

“This bed should be illegal,” she mumbled into the pillow. “It’s way too good.”

He chuckled softly. “We might have to cancel the rest of our trip.”

She grinned. “Don’t tempt me.”

The lights dimmed gently around them, the last glow of the city flickering through the curtains. Even Paimon, surprisingly, had gone completely quiet after disappearing into her room—too tired to say a word.

“You know,” Aether said, his voice soft, “you handled today really well.”

Citlali shifted a little, one hand resting on his chest. “You mean I didn’t trip or panic in front of everyone?”

“I mean you were amazing,” he said. “You were just you. And everyone saw it.”

She let out a breath, closing her eyes. “It didn’t feel that easy… but having you there made it better.”

“I always will be,” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

They lay there in quiet for a while, nothing left to say—just the warmth between them and the soft rise and fall of their breathing.

Then she whispered, “Goodnight, dear.”

He kissed her temple. “Goodnight, dear. I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

A moment later, her breath steadied—soft and even—and he realized she’d already drifted off, curled up close against him.

Aether brushed his thumb over her hand and whispered with a smile, “And to think… this was only our first day in Fontaine.”

And just like that, the day melted away.

Wrapped in peace, in warmth, and in each other—they drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Morning light filtered gently through the tall windows of the Royal Suite, brushing the ceiling’s soft blues and golds as the city came to life below. The bed—wide enough to disappear into, with sheets like clouds and blankets thick enough to drown your worries in—was still warm and tangled comfortably around them.

Aether woke first. He blinked against the light, still half-melted into the pillow, and turned his head to the girl beside him. Citlali was curled on her side, hair spread across the sheets, one arm draped over his waist like she wasn’t quite ready to let go.

She looked peaceful.

Happy.

And that alone made the entire journey worth it.

Knock knock.

Aether sat up slowly, careful not to disturb her. The knock came again—soft, polite, like someone didn’t want to intrude.

He slipped out of bed, grabbed a robe, and padded barefoot to the door.

The moment he opened it, a hotel attendant greeted him with a bright smile and a breakfast cart.

“Good morning! Complimentary breakfast for our honored guests.”

Before Aether could say anything, the cart was already being wheeled in.

“I didn’t order—” he began, but the attendant gave a quick bow, parked the cart near the window, and left with a practiced flourish.

“…Right,” Aether muttered, shutting the door. “Sure.”

From behind the half-open door of the guest room came a muffled voice.

“Mmmngh… is that coffee?”

Paimon floated out, hair sticking up wildly, blanket wrapped around her like a cape. She sniffed the air and blinked.

“Ooh! Is that fresh bread? And—wait, fruit?! Jam?!”

Aether raised a brow. “You can’t even see it yet.”

“I don’t need to,” she said, already peeling back the lids on the cart. “This smells amazing. And look—tiny butter rolls!”

From the bed, a soft rustle.

Citlali stirred, peeking up from under the blankets. “...What’s going on?”

“Apparently, breakfast,” Aether said with a quiet smile. “Good morning.”

She blinked slowly. “Did you order it?”

“Nope. It just showed up.”

Citlali sat up, the blanket falling from her shoulders. Her hair tumbled down her back in loose, sleep-mussed waves.

“That’s... kinda sweet.”

“Paimon thinks we should live here forever,” came the dreamy reply from the cart.

Citlali yawned and stretched, then flopped back onto the bed with a sigh. “I missed this bed.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to get over it,” Aether said, chuckling as he sat beside her.

She reached up and tugged him back in. “Nope. Come back. It’s warm.”

He let himself be pulled under, arms slipping around her. “Alright, alright.”

“Best bed I’ve ever slept in,” she mumbled against him.

“At this point, I think you’re just in love with the bed.”

She hummed softly in response, not opening her eyes.

From the other room, silverware clattered.

“Okay, you two can cuddle later—but please try this jelly! It tastes like actual sunshine!”

Citlali laughed against his chest. “We should probably eat before she finishes everything.”

Aether kissed her forehead. “We’ve got time. Let’s take it slow today.”

“Slow sounds perfect.” 

They moved to the lounge by the fireplace, letting the crackle of flames and the smell of fresh bread ease them into the day. Citlali curled up in an armchair, robe still wrapped around her, hands cupped around her tea like she never wanted to let go.

Aether sat across from her, plate in his lap, stealing glances more than bites.

Something about her like this—soft, sleepy, her braid draped over her shoulder—was hard not to stare at.

Citlali noticed.

“What?” she asked over her cup.

“You look good.”

She made a face. “I look like I lost a fight with a pillow.”

“Still. You look good.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled anyway.

Across from them, Paimon swung her legs as she munched on a pastry. “You two are worse every morning.”

“We’re not that bad,” Aether said, nudging Citlali’s foot.

“You’re exactly that bad,” Paimon muttered, stacking empty jam jars.

Eventually, breakfast wound down. Aether helped clear the dishes while Citlali slipped into the other room to get changed. When she came back out, her hair was neatly braided again, and she was back in her usual clothes—clean, simple, and comfortable.

Aether looked up and gave her an easy grin. “Back to normal already?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “Just saying… I already miss how cozy you looked earlier.”

Citlali gave him a flat look. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Aether leaned back with a small, satisfied smile. “It’s my best defense.”

She flicked his forehead on the way past. “Don’t push it.”

With Paimon in tow, the three of them made their way down to the lobby. But before they reached the doors, they noticed the crowd outside.

Some pressed close to the glass. Others stood farther back. A few waved. One boy clutched a newspaper like a souvenir.

Aether squinted. The headline was clear even from here:

“Traveler and Bride Arrive in Fontaine — Love Across the Nations!”
by Charlotte

Citlali froze a few steps from the bottom of the stairs. “...Is that really us?”

A hotel staff member stepped forward with a polite bow. “Apologies. The morning edition ran the story sooner than expected. Miss Charlotte’s article made quite the impression.”

Aether rubbed his temple. “So much for subtle.”

“They’re harmless,” the staff said kindly. “Just excited.”

Paimon floated beside them. “They’re waiting to see you. That’s kinda cute, actually.”

Aether looked to Citlali. “Want to say hello?”

She hesitated… then slipped her hand into his.

“Yeah. Let’s meet them.” 

The hotel doors opened with a soft click, and cool air rolled in.

Aether stepped out first, Citlali beside him, Paimon hovering just behind.

Someone in the crowd waved. “Welcome to Fontaine!”

Citlali blinked, surprised, but smiled and nodded back. More followed—greetings, shy glances, even a few compliments.

One little girl stepped forward, holding out a flower wrapped in ribbon. Citlali accepted it with a gentle smile.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

Then came the questions.

“Where is she from?”

“Is she a Vision user?”

“Did she fight beside you?”

“What’s her name again?”

Citlali stopped.

She gently pulled her hand from Aether’s and stepped forward alone.

“My name,” she said clearly, “is Citlali.”

The crowd quieted.

“And next time you ask about me...” she looked across them, calm but firm, “call me Mrs. Citlali.”

No anger. No edge. Just… presence.

“I’m not an extra in someone else’s story,” she added. “So speak with respect.”

A pause. Then a murmur: “Mrs. Citlali.” More followed.

She turned back to Aether.

“Too much?” she whispered.

He smiled. “No. Just right.”

Their fingers laced again.

Paimon floated behind, wide-eyed. “Okay… Mrs. Citlali might be a little scary.”

“Only when she needs to be,” Aether murmured.

And together, they moved forward. 

The city stirred around them—shops opening, cafés setting tables, warm bread and sunlight in the air. Here and there, people greeted them. Polite. Respectful. Curious, but kind.

Citlali stayed close to Aether, hand in his, eyes everywhere. The storefronts, the streets, the painted shutters and weathered stone. Fontaine didn’t shout for attention. It simply existed.

“It’s not what I expected,” she said.

“What were you expecting?” he asked.

She watched a passing Meka march by. “More noise. More glitter. But it feels… quiet. Confident.”

A breeze carried flower petals past them. A woman waved from a bookstore patio.

“Your wife’s lovely, dear!”

Citlali flushed. Aether waved. “I know!”

“Aether,” she hissed, elbowing him.

“What? It’s true.”

She groaned into his shoulder. Paimon laughed.

Then, ahead—Palais Mermonia.

Tall. Quiet. Dignified. Columns rose like the edges of a crown, and everything gleamed with calm authority.

Citlali slowed. “This place feels... serious.”

“Because it is,” Aether replied.

Paimon floated forward. “We’re not getting arrested, right?”

Aether chuckled. “Nope. Just a visit.”

“To who?”

He smiled. “Someone I want you to meet.” 

Inside, Palais Mermonia was cooler, quieter. Clean white marble, tall arches, and polished floors reflected soft light.

Everything here felt balanced. Functional, but beautiful in its simplicity.

“This place really does feel like the center of something important,” Citlali murmured.

“It is,” Aether said.

They walked deeper into the hall until Aether stopped before a large door.

“He’s inside. Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” she said.

They stepped in.

The office was spacious but calm. Neat shelves, tall windows, and a tall man behind a wide desk.

He looked up.

Silver hair. Calm eyes. Deep blue robes.

“Good morning,” he said. “Aether. Paimon. I’m glad you came.”

His gaze settled on Citlali. “And you must be the Traveler’s bride. Welcome.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “It’s... beautiful here.”

“You may call me Neuvillette,” he said with a nod. “I oversee this building—among other things.”

“It’s an honor to meet you,” she said.

“You carry yourself with quiet strength,” he noted. “It’s no wonder Aether holds you in such regard.”

She blinked. “...Thank you.”

Paimon chimed in. “He’s being humble. He’s the Chief Justice of Fontaine!”

Citlali turned to Aether. “Wait… seriously?”

Aether nodded. “One of the most important people here.”

Neuvillette gave a small hum. “Titles mean little if they’re not earned each day.”

Citlali nodded. “Thank you. For welcoming us.”

“You’re most welcome, Mrs. Citlali.” 

Neuvillette gave a final, courteous nod before stepping back behind his desk, allowing the moment to settle with quiet dignity.

But the stillness didn’t last.

A sharp voice echoed from deeper within the building—light, animated, unmistakably theatrical.

“They’re here?! They’re actually here?! And no one told me?!”

Citlali blinked, turning her head toward the noise.

Footsteps came next—quick, deliberate, dramatic. Another voice followed, barely containing its excitement.

“Oh, this changes everything! I need to make an entrance—no, a fanfare! A curtain drop! Or a toast! Wait, all three!”

Aether let out a long-suffering, half-fond sigh. “Here we go.”

Citlali raised a brow at him. “Should I be worried?”

Paimon floated a little closer, warily peeking toward the hallway. “Maybe a little. But only in a loud, sparkly kind of way.”

Then—bam.

The doors flung open with flair, and in swept a dazzling figure in blue and white silks, her heels clacking with theatrical purpose and her presence too large for the room.

“The stars shine brighter today! The air smells sweeter! I—Fontaine’s own jewel—have arrived!”

Citlali took a small step back on instinct.

Furina had entered.

Everything about her demanded attention—her voice, her outfit, the dramatic toss of her curls. Her eyes sparkled with immediate recognition as she spotted Aether and darted toward them.

She halted with a twirl, pointing directly at Citlali. “You! You’re her!”

Citlali blinked. “...Me?”

“The Traveler’s bride! Finally!” Furina spun once more before gliding up to her with zero sense of personal space. “Elegant, mysterious, radiant—it’s all true! Fontaine has been abuzz since sunrise!”

Aether stepped in with a smile, clearly used to the chaos. “Citlali, this is Furina.”

“Former Hydro Archon,” Paimon added quickly. “She stepped down a while ago, when we were last here.”

Citlali stared, trying to process. “Wait—you’re the Archon?”

Furina struck a dazzling pose. “Was, darling. Far too heavy a crown for someone destined for the spotlight! I left the throne and embraced my true calling—icon, star, idol!”

Citlali glanced at Aether with wide eyes.

He shrugged. “She’s… exactly like this.”

“Of course I am!” Furina beamed. “And I’ve been dying to meet you! Tell me everything—how you met, your travels, your vows! Was there a floating arch of flowers? Did you cry? Did he?”

Citlali could only laugh nervously, caught in the whirlwind.

And just like that, Furina slipped between them, linking arms with both of them as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“No time to waste! Fontaine awaits! I have grand plans, and the two of you—no, the three of you!” She shot Paimon a wink. “—are my guests of honor!”

“Wait, what kind of plans—?” Paimon started.

But Furina was already moving, dragging them out the door with boundless energy.

Neuvillette watched them go with calm, thoughtful silence. He didn’t smile, but there was something warm in the way his gaze lingered.

Citlali looked back only once, catching his steady expression before the doors of Palais Mermonia closed behind them.

And then they were off—into the streets of Fontaine once more, swept up in Furina’s ever-growing storm.

The moment they stepped outside, it was as if Furina had declared a festival.

She moved with purpose—no, with flourish—cutting across the plaza like she owned the sunlit cobblestones. Pedestrians turned, whispered, pointed, and stared, but none of it fazed her in the slightest. If anything, the attention only made her shine brighter.

“This city has no idea what’s in store!” Furina declared, arms wide. “The Traveler returns, arm in arm with his bride—how poetic! How divine! The tale practically writes itself!”

Paimon floated beside them, arms folded and expression wary. “Should we be worried she’s about to stage a parade?”

“She’s probably already planning one,” Aether muttered with a smile.

Citlali leaned slightly closer to him. “Is she always like this?”

“More or less,” he said. “She tones it down sometimes. Just not today.”

Furina suddenly spun around to face them, walking backward now, her smile positively gleaming. “Now then, I have questions. Do you like sweets? Dogs or cats? When did you first realize you were in love? Do you enjoy theater? And—be honest—have you ever cried at an opera?”

Citlali blinked. “That’s… a lot all at once.”

“Of course it is!” Furina grinned. “How else am I supposed to know everything there is to know about my favorite new couple?”

“You’ve known us for five minutes,” Paimon deadpanned.

“And I’m already emotionally invested!”

The streets of Fontaine unfolded around them—elegant stone bridges, bustling cafés, and clean fountains that glittered in the afternoon light. But wherever Furina walked, the city seemed to stir a little more, like it recognized its favorite daughter had returned in full dramatic fashion.

Eventually, she brought them to a plaza just in front of a grand, regal building. Its stonework gleamed under the light, tall arches stretching high, and the wide entrance bore familiar emblems of Fontaine’s justice and artistry.

Furina stopped at the bottom of the steps and turned to them with both arms lifted high.

“Behold—L’Opera Épiclèse! The crown jewel of Fontaine’s heart! Home to art, truth, and drama in its finest forms!”

Citlali took in the sight quietly, eyes following the gentle curves of the opera house. It wasn’t flashy, but it had presence. Something about it whispered of deep, lived history—of stories told and retold on its stage.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

“It’s sacred,” Furina corrected with pride. “And I just so happen to be preparing a special performance for next week—one you absolutely cannot miss.”

Aether raised an eyebrow. “You wrote a new one?”

Furina’s grin turned secretive. “Oh yes. My finest script yet. Inspired by the very idea of love, identity, and performance under pressure.”

Paimon looked skeptical. “Is it another courtroom musical?”

“Shhh.” Furina pressed a finger to her lips, then winked at Citlali. “Let’s just say… the final act will be unforgettable.”

Citlali met her gaze for a moment, trying to read deeper—but Furina had already spun away, marching up the steps toward the opera’s grand doors.

“You’ll see soon enough!” she called over her shoulder. “Now come along—we have more city to see!”

Citlali lingered just a second longer, her gaze still on the opera house. Something about the way Furina had said that line—it stuck with her. Not in a bad way. Just… curious.

She gave Aether’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“Should I be nervous?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Probably.”

Then they followed Furina inside, not knowing what surprises still waited in the wings.

The opera house doors closed behind them with a soft echo, sealing them inside a place that felt worlds away from the city’s usual rhythm. Inside, the air was cool and calm, and the grand foyer stretched upward in soft curves and gold trim, lit by streaks of afternoon sun filtering in from the high windows.

Furina swept ahead like a tour guide in a private palace, arms flaring with every declaration.

“Here, great voices have risen! Here, stories have moved hearts and minds alike! And just there”—she pointed toward a velvet-draped corridor—“is where I once stormed offstage mid-rehearsal because someone had the audacity to forget their line. ”

Paimon blinked. “You were acting in it too?”

“I wrote it, directed it, and starred in it,” Furina declared proudly. “A true triple threat.”

Citlali slowed as they reached the edge of the main hall. Beyond a low velvet rope stretched the grand auditorium—deep red seating cascading down toward a wide stage. The stage curtains were drawn open just enough to see its polished floor catching the warm light, like it too was waiting for the next performance.

“…It’s bigger than I expected,” she murmured.

Furina smiled without turning around. “It always feels that way the first time.”

They lingered there for a while. Citlali took it all in—the hush of the empty seats, the sense of space, the weight of something that had lasted generations.

Furina finally turned back, stepping closer with an uncharacteristically soft expression. “Next week,” she said quietly, “when you’re here again… remember this moment.”

Citlali looked at her. “Why?”

Furina just smiled wider. “Because when the curtain rises, and the lights hit the stage… everything changes.”

She didn’t explain further. Just gave a final, graceful turn and waved them onward.

The rest of the visit passed with lighthearted detours—Furina led them through side halls and old corridors, turning each corner into a dramatic story. A creaky door became haunted, a narrow hallway her private runway, and somehow, every step was part of a grand performance only she could see.

Eventually, they stepped back out into the city. The sunlight had turned golden now, slanting across the rooftops and soaking the buildings in soft afternoon warmth.

They continued walking together, the four of them moving easily through Fontaine’s elegant streets. Furina talked as much as ever—half plans, half stories, all sprinkled with dramatic flair—and yet, Citlali found herself smiling more often than not. Even Paimon had stopped rolling her eyes quite so often.

By the time evening began to creep in, the pace of the city slowed with it. They found themselves seated at a cozy little restaurant on a quiet corner—a place Furina picked confidently, claiming it had the best dessert trio in Fontaine.

The windows glowed with the last light of day, and a soft breeze drifted in through the open doors. The space buzzed with quiet conversation, clinking glasses, and the gentle notes of a string quartet playing somewhere just out of view.

Citlali leaned back in her seat, a warm cup between her hands, and glanced at Aether. “I didn’t expect any of this today.”

He gave her a small, relaxed smile. “Was it too much?”

“…No,” she admitted. “Just unexpected. But good.”

Furina grinned over the rim of her wine glass. “ That , my dear Mrs. Citlali, is the very heart of Fontaine. A little too much, just when you thought you had the day figured out.”

Paimon groaned. “Can we at least eat before the monologues start again?”

“Fine, fine,” Furina waved her off. “But only because the second course is excellent.”

The food arrived not long after, and the conversation mellowed into comfortable laughter and soft teasing. Stories passed easily between bites—of travels, of near-misses, of awkward encounters with nobles and merchants who didn’t recognize the Traveler until it was too late.

And all the while, Citlali sat nestled beside Aether, letting her guard down more than she thought she would in a place so unfamiliar. Fontaine, for all its formality and spectacle, was beginning to feel… oddly welcoming.

By the time the sun dipped beneath the rooftops and the city was bathed in the quiet hush of evening, the four of them rose from the table and made their way back through the gently glowing streets.

At the hotel steps, Furina stopped with a sharp pivot and placed her hands on her hips.

“Well then!” she declared. “A most delightful day. But alas, every act must end eventually.”

She gave a theatrical bow and added with a grin, “Until next time—au revoir!”

Citlali laughed under her breath. “She really doesn’t stop.”

“Not even in her sleep,” Aether murmured.

With a final twirl and a satisfied hum, Furina disappeared into the night.

The hotel lobby was calm and softly lit. One of the staff greeted them with a warm smile and a respectful nod.

“Welcome back, Mr. Traveler. Mrs. Citlali.”

Citlali blinked… then smirked, just a little. “Mrs. Citlali, huh?”

Aether glanced at her, amused. “You’re enjoying that title more every time.”

She tilted her chin up smugly. “I earned it.”

Inside their suite, the lights were soft and the world felt miles away. Paimon yawned as she floated toward her guest room. “Okay, don’t wake me until noon.”

But Citlali made a beeline straight for the bed.

Not even bothering to change, she practically dove into it, face-first, letting out a long, muffled groan as she stretched across the pillows like she’d been starved of comfort for years.

“I missed this bed,” she said, voice nearly lost in the blankets. “So much.”

Aether raised a brow as he set their things down. “You slept in it once.”

“I know what I said.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, walking over and sitting beside her.

She rolled onto her back, still halfway tangled in the covers, eyes closed and a content smile on her lips.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Now it really feels like a good day.”

Aether leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You earned this too.”

Their hands found each other under the covers, fingers lacing together in quiet rhythm.

The city outside carried on, full of music and motion and names still learning hers—but in here, wrapped in warmth and laughter and a bed that finally felt like theirs…

Citlali exhaled, her voice soft and certain.

“…Yeah. I think I could get used to this.”

Chapter Text

There wasn’t anything particularly special about the day itself—just the kind of weather that made you want to stay outside a little longer. Citlali walked alongside Aether and Paimon, their pace slow and relaxed, with nowhere in particular to be.

These aimless little walks had quietly become a comfort. No pressure, no plans—just the three of them moving together. Citlali had lived a long time, seen a lot, but days like this still felt oddly new. She’d never expected to find joy in the simple, unplanned moments. And yet, here she was.

They wandered the winding streets, stopping to peek into shop windows or linger by a street performer before drifting onward again. No real goal. No set direction. Just three people blending into the city like they belonged—to it, and to each other.

“Are we actually going anywhere?” Paimon asked, floating lazily beside them. “Or are we just pretending to have a plan so we don’t look lost?”

“We’re exploring,” Aether said with a shrug.

“Exploring the same three alleys?” Citlali teased, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Pretty sure we passed that cat twice.”

“That was strategic,” Aether replied, trying to sound serious.

“Strategically lost,” Paimon echoed, grinning. “Classic Traveler.”

They kept walking, unconsciously falling into the same rhythm. A soft, sweet scent drifted through the air, and Citlali tugged on Aether’s sleeve, pointing toward a small bakery tucked between two buildings.

“You already ate,” he said with a knowing look.

“This isn’t eating. This is necessary,” she replied, already heading for the door.

Paimon trailed behind eagerly. “Finally! Someone who gets it!”

A few minutes later, they were seated on a nearby bench, each holding a warm fruit tart. Flaky, buttery, perfectly sweet. Citlali hummed after the first bite, small and satisfied.

“Okay. Worth it,” she said.

“Told you,” Aether replied.

“You told me not to go in.”

“I’m still taking credit.”

Paimon gave a thumbs-up mid-bite, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

They sat in easy silence, Citlali close beside Aether, their shoulders brushing now and then. Not that long ago, she wouldn’t have imagined ever leaving her home. And now here she was—on a sun-warmed bench in a different nation, sharing pastries with the person she loved. It was quiet, but it meant everything.

“You’ve been in a good mood today,” Aether said eventually, voice casual.

“I’m usually in a good mood.”

“You threatened to hex me last night.”

“That was affectionate.”

Paimon blinked. “Wait, was it?”

Citlali just smiled, unreadable. “Guess you’ll never know.”

A voice called out from the street, warm and familiar. “Well, well. The Traveler himself—out for a quiet stroll? I must be dreaming.”

They looked up to see a young woman approaching, her honey-blonde hair catching the sunlight. She walked with confidence, but not in a showy way.

“Navia?” Aether said, standing with a grin. “Didn’t expect to run into you.”

“Likewise.” Her gaze drifted to Citlali and Paimon. “You must be Citlali. And Paimon, of course. I’ve heard a few things.”

“Only a few ?” Paimon huffed. “Paimon’s unforgettable!”

Citlali gave a polite smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“You two look settled,” Navia said warmly. “Very cozy. It suits you.”

“Thanks,” Aether said. “Just taking it easy today.”

“A rare luxury,” Navia agreed. “Actually—if you’re free tomorrow, I’m hosting a little tea thing. A few friends, snacks, nothing fancy. You’re welcome to join.”

Aether glanced at Citlali, letting her decide. She gave a small shrug.

“Sounds lovely,” she said.

“And there’ll be snacks, right?” Paimon added quickly.

Navia laughed. “Naturally. Rooftop terrace, around noon.”

She gave them a nod before disappearing into the crowd.

Citlali raised an eyebrow at Aether. “She’s pretty.”

“She is,” he agreed. “But not as pretty as my wife.”

Paimon groaned. “Ugh, again with the flirting! Can you two not while I’m here?”

Citlali stood. “Come on, Traveler. Let’s get strategically lost again.”

Aether took her hand. “Strategically romantic.”

“You wish.”

Behind them, Paimon floated along with a tired sigh. “You two are exhausting.”

“You love it,” Aether teased.

“…Yeah. Maybe.”

And just like that, they wandered on—another quiet afternoon. The kind Citlali never thought she’d get to have.

The next afternoon rolled in with a soft breeze, carrying the scent of flowers and warm stone. Fontaine had been kind to them so far—and today didn’t seem any different. Citlali walked beside Aether, their steps easy and unhurried, while Paimon floated ahead with a lazy yawn every few feet.

They followed a quiet path behind a row of tucked-away cafés, eventually climbing a narrow stairwell that led to a rooftop terrace glowing under the afternoon sun.

It wasn’t extravagant—just a cozy space with white tablecloths, planters lined along the railing, and a canopy stretched over one side for shade. Waiting near the table with a teapot already in hand was Navia, smiling brightly.

“There you are!” she called, waving them over. “I was starting to think you got kidnapped by a pastry shop.”

“Tempting,” Aether chuckled. “But we wouldn’t miss this.”

Navia stood to greet them, her energy as warm as the sunlight. “Thought something quieter might be nice. Please—sit. I hope you’re hungry.”

“I’m always hungry,” Paimon declared, floating straight toward the nearest seat and eyeing the teacups like treasure.

Citlali took in the view with a small smile. “This is really lovely,” she said, the gentle sounds of the city below wrapping around them like background music. “It’s quite peaceful up here.”

Navia let out a light laugh. “Fontaine may love its drama, but we do know how to enjoy a calm afternoon.”

The air felt relaxed, easy. Citlali settled in next to Aether, their knees bumping slightly under the table. She still caught herself surprised sometimes—by how natural this all felt with him. Like quiet had finally become something soft, instead of something heavy.

Not long after, the sound of footsteps announced the arrival of two more guests. Clorinde appeared first, her long coat catching a bit of breeze. Right behind her was Escoffier with a tray balanced in her hands.

Navia stood with a smile. “Perfect timing. I was hoping you’d both make it.”

Clorinde gave a short nod, her eyes scanning the table before landing on Citlali. “So. You’re the one everyone’s been talking about.”

Citlali rose politely, calm and warm. “Citlali,” she said. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

Clorinde’s expression softened a little. “Likewise.”

The one who came with her gave a pleasant smile as she set down her tray. “Escoffier. Pleasure to meet you,” she said, voice calm but friendly.

Citlali nodded. “Likewise. I’ve heard a bit about you from Aether already.”

“Hopefully only the useful parts,” Escoffier said lightly, uncovering a tray of savory pastries and a delicate plate of macarons—bright, cheerful, and unmistakably Navia’s handiwork.

Once everyone had settled, conversation began to flow naturally—updates from around their circle, little moments, and plenty of teasing. Navia poured tea with practiced ease, her smile never far.

“I thought this might be a fun way to share stories,” she said, giving Aether a knowing glance. “I mean, we’ve all crossed paths with him by now. And somehow, he always leaves a mark.”

Navia smiled and started first, her voice easy. “We worked together on a case once. He stepped in, helped out—and somewhere along the way, we just ended up as partners. I didn’t realize how much I needed the support until he was already there.”

Clorinde added with a slight smile, “We’ve fought together during an arbitration. I didn’t ask for help—but he gave it anyway. He’s persistent like that.” She glanced at Aether. “Even without knowing all the rules, somehow he still wins people over.”

Escoffier calmly dusted a crumb off her plate. “I already knew he was a capable cook—but what stood out was how steady he was when things got chaotic. A perfect assistant at the right time.”

Then all eyes turned to Citlali.

She blinked, not expecting it, and took a sip of tea while she gathered her thoughts. “It’s funny,” she said slowly. “He didn’t really do anything grand at first. He just… showed up. Helped. Listened. No pressure. Just… there.”

Her voice softened. “At some point, it stopped feeling like he was stepping into my world. And started feeling like I’d found a place in his instead.”

A quiet pause followed.

Paimon groaned dramatically into her cup. “Why does it always get sappy with you two?”

The laughter that followed was light, easy. It carried through the air like something too soft to hold—and Citlali, fingers brushing Aether’s under the table, smiled down into her teacup.

The tea party stretched on gently as the afternoon sun mellowed into gold. Laughter came easier now, with stories flowing like a familiar song—each person adding their own verse. At one point, Escoffier made a playful jab at Aether’s chopping skills, earning a round of chuckles. Navia brought out another tray of her signature macarons—bright, crisp, perfectly sweet—and even Clorinde cracked a smile after tasting one.

Citlali hadn’t thought herself the type to enjoy things like this. But here she was—settled in the middle of it all, sipping from a delicate cup, his warmth brushing her shoulders, and the sound of friends and companions laughing around her. Every now and then, her gaze would drift toward Aether—not out of longing, just… ease. He was there. And she was, too. That was enough.

Navia leaned back with a pleased sigh. “This turned out better than I expected.”

“You say that every time,” Clorinde replied, her tone dry but not unfriendly.

“And I’m always right,” Navia shot back with a grin.

Escoffier set her cup down gently. “Still, it’s getting late. We should probably start heading out.”

Clorinde stood, brushing a few pastry crumbs from her coat. “I’m going the same way as them. I’ll walk with you.”

Citlali looked up at her for a second, a little surprised, but only nodded in return. It made sense somehow. Clorinde didn’t strike her as someone who lingered without purpose—but she also didn’t leave things half-finished. She stayed when it mattered, in her own quiet way.

As they packed up, Citlali let herself linger for just a moment more. Her fingers brushed over the rim of her empty cup, and she looked around—at the half-finished plates, the fading light, the familiar voices. Something about this little corner of Fontaine felt like a snapshot she’d want to remember.

So much had changed.

And somehow… everything felt right.

The sun dipped low as they made their way back down, the rooftop gathering fading into soft memory. The city was starting to settle too, the streets quieter, the breeze cooler. Navia had hugged them both goodbye with a warm promise to meet again soon. Escoffier gave a little wave and a gentle reminder—“Eat something real later”—before heading off.

Now Clorinde walked a few steps behind, silent but close. Paimon floated ahead, finally quiet after the long, sugar-filled day. Tired, maybe. Satisfied.

Citlali stayed close to Aether, their footsteps falling into sync without trying. They hadn’t said much since they left the rooftop, but that wasn’t strange between them. Silence didn’t feel awkward anymore—not with him.

Instead, she reached out to him the way they always did when they wanted to speak privately in public—through their thoughts.

“You know… I keep thinking about how much has changed since I met you.”

Aether glanced over, as he heard her voice within his thoughts.

“Back then, I never really thought about leaving home. It just didn’t seem like there was anything out here for me. But now…”

She looked up toward the sky, where the sun was melting into evening.

“Now I’ve got all these strange, quiet little memories. Rooftops and pastries. Laughing at things that don’t even make sense. And I get to look at you and know I was part of it all.”

Aether smiled softly. “You say that like you didn’t change my life too.”

Citlali met his eyes, then looked away with a quiet exhale that was almost a laugh. “Guess we’re both stuck with each other, huh?”

“Happily,” he murmured, his hand brushing gently against hers.

She didn’t take it right away.

But she didn’t pull away either.

And so they walked on—quiet, steady, and side by side.

They returned to the hotel just as the evening settled in, the air cooler now, tinged with the soft hush of Fontaine winding down for the day.

Paimon floated slowly as she started to fall behind them, arms folded and eyes half-lidded, clearly worn out from the long day. She let out a soft yawn but didn’t complain—just quietly kept up with them as they made their way to their hotel.

By the time they reached their destination, Citlali’s legs were starting to feel worn out. Nothing terrible—just that warm, lingering fatigue that came after hours of walking and talking and smiling.

Clorinde caught up to them just as they reached the door, still composed as ever. In her hands was a neatly wrapped parcel.

“This is from Wriothesley and Sigewinne,” she said, her tone calm, giving nothing away.

Citlali blinked. “Wriothesley and... Sigewinne?”

Clorinde gave a nod. “It’s a gift.” No further explanation. Just that mysterious little smile as she handed the package to Aether.

“Thanks,” Aether said, taking it with a quiet smile. “And for everything else.”

Clorinde gave a small nod. Then, just as she turned to leave, Aether leaned in a bit and whispered something to her—too low for Citlali to catch. But she didn’t miss the look they exchanged… or the faint, barely-there curve at the corner of Clorinde’s mouth before she walked off down the hall.

Citlali tilted her head slightly, brows drawing together just for a moment. “Hm?”

Still, she was too tired to push for answers. So she followed Aether inside, and the door clicked shut softly behind them.

Finally back inside of their suite, Paimon gave a soft groan and drifted towards her room without a word, mumbling something about food and dreams before disappearing.

Citlali watched her go, then followed Aether further inside.

She finally reached their ridiculously soft, oversized bed—easily her favorite thing in the room—and flopped onto it with a dramatic sigh, limbs sprawled out as she sank into the cloud-like blankets.

Meanwhile, Aether set the neatly wrapped parcel on the table nearby and began unwrapping it carefully. Inside was a beautifully arranged wooden box packed full of neatly wrapped tea bags—each blend labeled in a cheery, meticulous script.

Citlali propped herself up on one elbow, peering over curiously. “That’s... a lot of tea.”

“Mmhm,” Aether said with a soft chuckle. “Very much them.”

"So... are they just really into tea or something?" she asked, lightly running her fingers over one of the packets.

He nodded. “Wriothesley runs the Fortress of Meropide. And Sigewinne’s the head nurse down there.”

Citlali blinked. “The what of what?”

Aether glanced at her with a small smile. “The Fortress of Meropide. It’s… technically a prison. But not in the usual way. You’ll see.”

Citlali raised a brow. “Wait— see ? Are we actually going there?”

He nodded again, settling beside her as he began putting the tea packets back in the box. “Yeah. That’s what I was whispering to Clorinde earlier. I asked her to help us get into the Fortress tomorrow.”

Citlali’s brow lifted. “Oh… so that’s what that was about.”

“I wanted to thank them in person,” he said, voice softer now. “It felt right.”

Citlali looked back at the tea, running a finger gently along one of the labels. Thoughtful strangers, a hidden place she’d never even heard of, and another step into the unknown—things she never could’ve imagined on her own.

“Then I guess we’ll see what kind of place this ‘Fortress’ really is,” she murmured. “And the people behind all this tea.”

The lights dimmed low, and the soft hum of Fontaine outside faded into nothing. Aether helped her under the covers, and soon after, slipped in beside her.

Citlali rested against his chest, her voice soft. “Thank you… for today. And for being here. I don’t think I’d have enjoyed any of it without you.”

Aether smiled, his arm around her. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m always with you.”

She nodded, eyes closing. “That’s what I’m grateful for.”

They stayed like that, quiet and close, until they drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

A knock tapped gently at the door of their suite, just as the pale morning sun began to stretch across the room, threading through the curtains in long, sleepy beams.

Citlali stirred beneath the soft blankets, blinking into the golden haze. Her body didn’t want to move—still caught in the comfortable weight of sleep—but her mind was already recognizing the familiar pattern.

Right on time again…

For the past few days, breakfast had arrived just like this—quietly, without fanfare. A simple routine she hadn’t expected to appreciate, but had quietly grown fond of.

She yawned, rolling onto her side to find the space beside her already empty. Water was running in the bathroom. Aether, always the early riser, was already up and getting ready.

That left her.

Paimon was still passed out in her room, blanket tangled around her legs and one arm draped dramatically over the side of the bed.

Citlali blinked hazily at the door.

“If it’s croissants again, I’m not complaining,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes.

Dragging herself out from under the covers, she tugged her loose pajama top down over her hips and padded barefoot to the door, fingers raking quickly through her messy bed hair. She wasn’t trying to impress anyone—just wanted breakfast, really.

But when she opened the door—

“Oh.”

Standing on the other side, perfectly composed and looking like she hadn’t missed a minute of sleep, was Clorinde.

She held the breakfast cart with one hand, the other resting on her sword hilt like always. Her sharp eyes gave a brief flick down Citlali’s form—pajamas, bedhead, no slippers—before returning politely to her face.

“Good morning,” she said, tone neutral as ever. “The staff had your breakfast ready, so I thought I’d deliver it on my way.”

Citlali stood frozen in place for a heartbeat too long, instinctively tugging her shirt lower even though it already covered her just fine. “That’s... um, thoughtful. Thanks.”

Clorinde gave a small nod, completely unfazed. “Please take your time. I’ll be waiting in the lobby once you’re ready.”

And just like that, she turned and strode off down the hallway, heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

Citlali closed the door with a slow exhale and let her forehead gently fall against it.

“...Great,” she mumbled. “She had to see me like this.”

She eyed the breakfast cart, its domed trays still steaming slightly.

“Well... at least she brought food.”

Aether stepped out of the bathroom as the smell of tea and pastries filled the suite.

Paimon stumbled out next, mumbling about floating cheese wheels.

Citlali handed her a pastry without a word, earning a sleepy hum.

They got ready in a quiet rhythm—no rush, just the usual morning routine.

By the time they headed downstairs, the morning had fully settled in—sunlight pouring through the tall windows of the hotel lobby, casting soft reflections across polished floors and velvet chairs. The quiet bustle of staff and early guests moved around them, but none of it felt rushed.

Clorinde was already there, seated at a small table near the lounge area. Her cup of tea was nearly empty, her posture as composed as ever, cloak draped neatly behind her.

As they approached, she stood smoothly and gave a faint nod.

“Shall we?”

Aether returned the gesture with a polite smile. “Ready when you are.”

They stepped out from the hotel and into the city, the early bustle of Fontaine washing over them in waves.

Before long, they were behind the Opera Epiclese—tucked away in a quiet corner where the noise faded.

No signs, no guards—just a worn patch of stone. Clorinde stopped, pressed something, and the platform shifted open, revealing a hidden elevator below.

Citlali blinked. “That’s… not ominous at all.”

Aether gave her a reassuring smile as they stepped onto the lift. Paimon hovered nearby, unusually quiet.

The descent was slow and steady, the air growing cooler as the city above slipped away. The hum of machinery took over.

At the bottom, they passed a quiet checkpoint. Aether got a few nods, but no questions. The guards didn’t even glance twice at Citlali.

They boarded a small boat that drifted along a narrow, dim tunnel. Citlali sat between Aether and Paimon, her eyes trailing over the silent, industrial walls.

“So this is what’s hidden underneath all that elegance,” she said under her breath.

Aether leaned closer. “It’s not what most people expect.”

Clorinde’s voice carried from the front. “If anything happens, I’ll take care of it.”

Citlali didn’t respond, just held Aether’s hand a little tighter.

They stepped off at the other end of the tunnel, the final elevator waiting.

She glanced around. “It feels… colder down here.”

“You’ll warm up to it,” Aether said softly. “It’s not all steel and rules.” 

The elevator doors opened with a low hiss, and they stepped out into the quiet, mechanical hum of the Fortress.

They followed the narrow path ahead—until a familiar figure came into view near the entry to the main chamber.

Wriothesley stood there, clipboard in hand, flipping through a few notes. He looked up when he heard their footsteps approaching, pausing mid-turn as recognition settled in.

“Well,” he said with a faint, amused smile, “this is a surprise.”

He tucked the clipboard under one arm and strode over, stopping in front of them with a relaxed stance. “Didn’t expect visitors today.”

Aether gave him a nod. “We were nearby. Thought we’d stop in.”

Wriothesley’s gaze shifted to Citlali. “And I’m guessing this is the wife I’ve been hearing all about.”

Citlali gave a soft smile. “That’d be me.”

“Wriothesley,” he introduced himself, offering a polite handshake. “I’m the one taking care of this slightly less terrifying place.”

Citlali took his hand, her grip steady. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” he replied. Then he tilted his head back slightly, gesturing over his shoulder. “My office is just this way. Let’s talk there.”

Without waiting for an agreement, he turned and began walking. The group followed behind him.

Paimon floated along with narrowed eyes. “You’re not luring us into something weird, are you?”

Wriothesley let out a soft laugh. “Nothing weird. Just a visit.”

Citlali glanced around with guarded eyes, staying close to Aether. Whatever this place was… it was far from the likes of what she’s seen from Fontaine so far.

Wriothesley’s office wasn’t much to look at—neat, quiet, and clearly practical. Just enough room for what he needed, with a few shelves, a desk, and a couch by the side. Nothing fancy, but it suited him.

He waved them in casually. “Come in, take a seat.”

Citlali settled beside Aether while Paimon hovered nearby, glancing around. Clorinde stayed back, standing beside them, but not too close for comfort.

“So,” Wriothesley said, resting an arm on his desk, “what brings the three of you down here today?”

“Wanted to visit,” Aether said with a small smile. “And thank you properly for the tea.”

Wriothesley raised an eyebrow. “You came all the way down here for that?”

Citlali gave a soft shrug. “We were curious, too. It's not often you get invited into a place like this.”

“Fair enough,” Wriothesley said with a grin. “Well, it’s not every day I get surprise visitors, but you’re welcome.”

The door opened again a moment later, and Sigewinne stepped in—bright-eyed and beaming the moment she saw them.

“Oh! You really are here!” she said, delighted as her gaze bounced between Aether, Paimon, and then the unfamiliar face beside him. “You didn’t tell me we were getting visitors.”

“Wasn’t exactly planned,” Wriothesley replied with a calm shrug.

Sigewinne stepped closer, curiosity taking over. “And who’s this?”

Before Citlali could answer, Aether gently stepped in. “This is Citlali. My wife.”

Sigewinne’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful!” She waved sweetly at Citlali. “Hi! I’m Sigewinne—resident nurse around here. Don’t worry, I only poke people when I really need to.”

Citlali blinked, then smiled. “Nice to meet you. I’ll try to stay healthy.”

“You’d better,” Sigewinne teased. “Especially if you’re married to him.”

Aether chuckled. “I’m not that reckless.”

“Mmhmm,” Sigewinne hummed, unconvinced.

Wriothesley stood, brushing a hand across the edge of his desk. “We were just about to show them around a bit. Want to come along?”

Sigewinne perked up. “Of course!”

And with that, the group turned to head out again—Clorinde at the back, Wriothesley leading, and Sigewinne bouncing along beside them, already full of questions.

The tour didn’t last long. Wriothesley kept it casual, showing them only the main areas—workshops, common rooms, a quick peek at the factory level—before steering them back toward his office.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said with a faint smirk as they walked. “Not much glamour down here.”

“I wasn’t expecting glamour,” Citlali replied, though her gaze lingered on the pipe-lined walls and quiet workers. “It just feels… sealed off. Like the rest of Fontaine disappears up there.”

“That’s kind of the idea,” Wriothesley said. “It’s its own little system.”

“People here seem… content,” she added softly.

“They are,” Aether said. “It’s a strange place, but it works.”

Once back at his office, the group settled in once again without much formality. Tea was already prepared and waiting.

Citlali picked up her cup and took a sip, then glanced toward the corner where Wriothesley had briefly gone to grab something.

“…Do you always have this much tea ready?” she asked, raising an eyebrow with amusement.

Wriothesley gave a lazy shrug as he poured another cup. “What can I say? I like having options.”

Paimon leaned over with a grin. “You mean too many options. There’s no way you even remember what half of them taste like!”

Aether chuckled. “He probably picks by mood. Or by how dramatic the name sounds.”

Wriothesley smirked. “That’s not entirely wrong.”

Sigewinne giggled, stirring her tea. “I tried making him a healthy blend once—with herbs and all. He refused before it even finished steeping.”

Wriothesley raised an eyebrow. “It smelled like medicine.”

“It was good for you!” she pouted.

“Exactly why I didn’t drink it,” he replied, smirking behind his cup.

Then Sigewinne turned, locking eyes with Citlali in that sweet, innocent way that somehow always spelled trouble.

“So, Citlali,” she chirped, “what do you think of Fontaine so far?”

Citlali blinked, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Oh, um… it’s lovely. Different. A bit overwhelming at first.”

“It’s your first time here?”

Citlali nodded. “First time out of my homeland, actually.”

Sigewinne gasped with genuine delight. “Seriously?! That’s amazing! You’re like, living a whole new life here then!”

Citlali laughed softly, glancing at Aether. “Feels like it some days.”

“Have you tried anything local?” Sigewinne asked, eyes bright.

“Mostly just pastries and tea today,” she said, smirking over her cup.

“Well, you’ve got the essentials covered,” Aether added with a small chuckle.

Sigewinne beamed. “You two are super cute together. I mean it.”

Paimon leaned over the table with a teasing grin. “They’re practically inseparable.”

Citlali flushed just slightly, trying not to smile too hard. “It’s not that dramatic…”

But Sigewinne, clearly on a roll, tilted her head sweetly and dropped the question with all the grace of a butterfly landing on a bomb.

“So… when are you two having kids?”

Aether choked.

Citlali inhaled sharply, nearly spilling her tea. “Wh-What?!”

Paimon squeaked, nearly knocking over her cup.

Wriothesley didn’t even look up. “Here we go.”

Clorinde stood quietly in the back, barely moving—but the faint lift of her brow was unmistakable.

Sigewinne blinked, all innocent sincerity. “Did I say something weird?”

“Uh—y-yeah!” Citlali stammered, cheeks turning pink. “You can’t just drop a question like that!”

Aether coughed, still recovering. “We haven’t even… we didn’t talk about that.”

“Really?” Sigewinne asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I just figured—married, traveling, happy… seemed like something you’d be planning.”

Citlali blinked at her, still red. “We’ve barely talked about it at all!”

Aether rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s… a bit of a heavy topic for tea time, don’t you think?”

Sigewinne tilted her head again, completely unbothered. “You’d be great parents though.”

The silence that followed was loud.

Citlali’s eyes slowly slid to Aether’s, her expression unreadable.

Aether gave her hand a gentle squeeze under the table and offered the smallest, most sheepish smile.

Paimon sighed and slumped dramatically. “This is why I never ask serious questions around her…”

Sigewinne just hummed and sipped her tea again, happy as ever. “I was just curious.”

Wriothesley finally chuckled under his breath. “She has no filter. Don’t take it personally.”

“We noticed,” Aether muttered, still visibly flustered.

The silence lingered a second longer—until Paimon loudly changed the subject to something completely unrelated. No one cared what it was, but it worked.

The conversation eventually wound down on its own—just a few quiet sips of tea, light chatter, and glances exchanged between the group.

Clorinde was already standing near the stairs, calm and unreadable as ever. Aether caught her subtle nod—the unspoken cue that it was time to wrap up.

Wriothesley stood with them, stretching slightly as he looked their way. “Thanks for dropping by. Wasn’t expecting it, but it’s been good.”

Aether smiled. “Thanks for the tour.”

Sigewinne hopped up from her chair and waved excitedly at Citlali. “Come visit again! Next time, maybe you’ll let me show you the clinic!”

Citlali offered a small laugh. “We’ll see.”

“And don’t forget to bring your kids next time!” Sigewinne added with a bright grin.

Citlali froze mid-step. Aether nearly tripped.

Paimon groaned under her breath. “There she goes again…”

Clorinde, already heading downstairs, didn’t comment. Wriothesley, unsurprised, just finished his tea without looking up.

With a round of polite goodbyes and forced smiles, they left the office behind.

The boat ride back was quiet.

The elevator hum louder than before.

And when they emerged once more into the open air of Fontaine, the silence between them said more than words ever could.

The walk back to their hotel had never been more quiet than ever.

Not the kind of silence that came from tired feet or long walks—but the kind that settled when neither of them knew what to say. Clorinde had seen them off at the entrance with a simple farewell, and now it was just the three of them stepping inside the quiet lobby of their hotel.

“Guess I’ll go find something real to eat,” Paimon muttered, floating a little higher with a stretch. “All we had was sugar and tea, and Paimon’s gonna faint if she doesn’t get actual food soon.”

Citlali blinked at her, still half-lost in thought. “Are you going out alone?”

“I’ll be fine!” Paimon puffed her cheeks. “I know the streets, and besides… you two probably want the room to yourselves, huh?”

That last bit was muttered under her breath with a sly look, but she didn’t wait for a response. She held out her hand. “Some mora, please.”

Aether handed over a small pouch without a word, still avoiding Citlali’s gaze. Paimon gave a little wave and floated toward the exit.

“Don’t wait up!” she called over her shoulder.

And just like that, they were alone again.

The silence that followed was… thick. Not heavy in a cruel way—but dense with everything neither of them had said yet.

They climbed the stairs together in silence, each step echoing a little too much in the quiet hallway. It wasn’t uncomfortable—but it pressed on them, filled with the weight of one lingering question they hadn’t answered yet.

When they reached their floor, Aether unlocked the door and stepped aside, letting Citlali enter first.

She slipped off her sandals slowly, one at a time, and padded inside with quiet steps. Her movements were slower than usual, like she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. She stopped at the edge of the bed and lightly sat down as she brushed her fingers over the blanket.

Aether lingered near the table, picking up the tea packet Wriothesley had given them. He turned it over in his hands once, twice, as though it needed fixing. It didn’t.

The silence wasn’t awkward—it was careful. Waiting.

Finally, Citlali spoke.

“…It’s been on your mind too, hasn’t it?”

Her voice was soft. Unsure. Like she already knew the answer but needed to hear it anyway.

Aether looked up, meeting her eyes from across the room. “Yeah,” he said. “It has.”

She was sat at the edge of the bed, fingers resting quietly in her lap. “We’ve never really talked about it after everything that’s happened. Even after we got married.”

He moved toward her and sat beside her slowly, letting her keep the space she needed.

“I don’t even know if I can,” she continued, eyes downcast. “I’ve lived for so long. I never let myself imagine something like that, and now I don’t even know if it’s possible.”

Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Maybe it’s just too late.”

Aether gently reached for her hand and held it between both of his.

“You don’t have to carry that alone, dear,” he said, voice low, thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever it is.”

She looked up at him—eyes unsure, but a little brighter than before.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because I thought we’d have a family,” he said. “I fell in love with you. All of you. And that’s never going to change.”

Her fingers tightened around his.

And then, without saying anything more, she leaned into him—soft, slow—letting her head rest gently against his shoulder.

Aether’s arms wrapped around her without hesitation, pulling her close as though he’d been waiting for her to ask.

“I never really let myself hope,” she whispered. “Not until you.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, slow and lingering. “Then you can hope with me,” he murmured. “We don’t need to have the answers tonight. Just… hope with me.”

She smiled faintly, letting the warmth between them sink in.

“We already act like parents,” she said after a beat. “With Paimon and Ororon…”

He laughed gently. “Then we’ve had good practice.”

That got a real laugh from her this time—small and genuine, breaking through the heavy air like sunlight through clouds.

And then she turned toward him, just enough to meet his gaze.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice catching just slightly.

His answer came with movement.

Aether reached up, brushing a strand of her hair away before he leaned in.

Their kiss started tender, tentative—like a promise forming between their lips.

But it didn’t stay that way.

As their hands found each other again, and as their closeness deepened, the kiss grew slower, deeper. The kind that spoke louder than words. The kind that stayed even when it ended. A quiet pull of warmth that neither of them wanted to let go of.

By the time they parted, they were breathing softly in the space between—foreheads brushing, eyes half-closed, hearts calm.

“Stay with me,” she whispered. “Just like this.”

Aether answered her with another kiss, pressing it to her lips with more feeling this time—one that melted the last of the hesitation between them.

Citlali’s fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as their lips met again—longer, deeper this time, their breath hitching between each soft pull and press. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel his against her, steady and strong, like a rhythm calling her forward.

Aether’s hand slid gently along her back, guiding her down until she lay beneath him. Her breath caught as her head sank into the pillows, hair spilling around her in soft waves.

The soft weight of his body followed as he leaned over her, bracing himself with one hand beside her shoulder, the other trailing up her arm until their fingers met again and locked tightly together.

Citlali looked up at him, her chest rising and falling. Her eyes shimmered with unspoken want, framed by a blush that deepened across her cheeks.

“You’re looking at me like it’s the first time all over again,” she whispered.

Aether let out a quiet, breathless laugh, leaning his forehead against hers, their noses almost brushing from how close they were. “Yeah… that’s exactly what it feels like.”

She smiled, pulling him back down into a kiss that said everything neither of them could put into words. Slow. Needy. Full of heat and affection and everything in between.

The soft creak of the mattress, the rustle of sheets, the gentle sounds of kisses growing more fervent—all of it filled the room as their touches became more certain, more intimate.

And as the night deepened around them, the warmth they shared only grew.

What followed wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t perfect either.

But it was theirs.

And they held nothing back.

Night had settled over Fontaine by the time Paimon finally drifted into the quieter streets, arms folded and mumbling, “Nope. Not going back there tonight...”

She spotted Clorinde nearby on patrol, walking her usual silent route.

“Psst—Clorinde!” Paimon whispered, flying up.

Clorinde gave her a glance. “Still out?”

Paimon leaned in. “So… Aether and Citlali are really having a moment. The kind I don’t want to walk in on.”

Clorinde didn’t even blink. “I see.”

“Can I stay with you for tonight?”

A small nod. “I’m still on patrol, just stay quiet.”

“Done,” Paimon grinned.

They walked on—Clorinde quiet and composed, while Paimon floated at her side, chatting softly about everything that happened… leaving out the awkward bits.

Chapter Text

Citlali stirred under the covers, blinking as the morning light gently touched her face. She stretched out, one hand reaching across the bed—

Cold.

Aether wasn’t there.

She sat up slowly, a puzzled frown tugging at her lips as she rubbed the side of her neck. Her eyes drifted around the room.

Something wasn’t right.

This wasn’t their suite in Fontaine.

The layout was familiar, but not the one she remembered falling asleep in. The air around her was softer, heavier somehow, laced with a quiet stillness that made her pulse skip.

This was home.

Her room. In Natlan.

The realization hit her all at once, and she sat up straighter. She didn’t remember coming back. There had been no travel, no goodbyes, no hurried packing of bags. The last thing she remembered was…

Aether.

They were together—close, warm, and content. That quiet moment before they slept, the way they held each other tight from exhaustion.

And then… this.

Her gaze dropped to see herself fully dressed with her usual clothes. 

She then swung her legs over the side of the bed—only for her foot to bump something soft.

Squeak.

She stilled.

Looking down, she saw a small stuffed toy near the edge of the rug. She blinked once.

It was a saurian. Brightly stitched, a little off-balance, with soft button eyes and felt claws. And as she took a closer look, she realized it wasn’t alone. A few more lay scattered nearby, in tiny clusters, as if someone had scattered them and just… left them there.

She didn’t recognize a single one.

Not hers. Not Aether’s. Definitely not Paimon’s. And yet, here they were.

Her brows furrowed as she slowly leaned forward and picked one up. It felt well-loved. Worn in a way that didn’t match anything they had brought home themselves. Maybe—maybe it had been one of the gifts?

But why was this the only thing left?

That thought sent her eyes scanning the room again.

The rest was empty.

The room that used to be full of gifts—offerings from friends, well-wishers, even a few curious strangers—was all missing. No boxes, no cards, nothing left behind.

It was all gone.

Everything that had once crowded the shelves and corners had vanished without a trace.

Just her. And these saurian dolls.

Squeak.

Another one shifted slightly as she moved. The sound made her flinch.

And then— 

A faint sound beyond the bedroom. Soft. Subtle. Like someone brushing past, just barely out of sight.

Citlali stood perfectly still, listening.

She didn’t call out. Just waited, her heart beating a little faster.

Then, quietly, she stepped forward and left the room, a deep crease of confusion on her face.

Something was very wrong.

The quiet followed her.

Not peaceful. Not familiar. Just... strange. Like the house was holding its breath, waiting.

She came to a stop.

The mess was gone.

Not just in the bedroom, but here too—where gifts once cluttered every corner: Boxes, notes, wrappings… all of it, cleared away without a trace.

She didn’t remember cleaning. Didn’t remember waking up here at all.

Her frown deepened.

Then her eyes drifted to the table.

Papers—scattered, curling at the edges. A few had slipped to the floor. The only things left behind.

She crouched to pick one up.

A drawing. Crayons pressed hard into the paper, coloring in the jagged outline of a saurian with oversized teeth and stubby limbs.

Another page. Paimon, unmistakably. Her little crown bouncing mid-air above her round, floating form.

Then a third—this one more careful.

Four stick-like figures in a row.

There was Paimon again, hovering above. Aether, golden hair drawn in thick swirls with a small sword at his side. Citlali, long flowing hair and the two familiar rings drawn just above her head.

And right between her and Aether… a smaller figure.

Shorter. Arms stretched wide, as if held by both of them. A smile that took up nearly half its face.

Citlali stared at it.

And just as the thought began to form—

Creeeak.

The front door opened loud and slow.

Light spilled through the gap. The air that followed felt still, expectant—like something was waiting just beyond the threshold.

The paper in her hand rustled.

And for a moment, it felt like the house itself was nudging her forward.

Citlali stepped toward the door, quiet and tense, each footstep cautious.

It creaked again as she opened it wider, just enough to slip outside. The light touched her face, warm and soft—but the stillness that met her sent a chill across her arms.

And then she saw her.

A little girl sat on the stairs just outside, facing away, legs swinging idly in the open air as if this was something she did every day.

Citlali stopped.

She hadn’t expected to see anyone. Certainly not a child sitting just a few steps down from her doorstep—calm, content, completely at ease. The girl didn’t turn. She didn’t speak.

She just sat there.

Citlali’s breath caught in her throat. There was something oddly familiar about her. The shape of her head. The way her hair caught the light. The color—

It was almost the same as hers.

She stepped forward without thinking. One slow, careful step.

The girl turned.

Her face was round and soft, her expression calm and curious. She blinked once at Citlali—and then smiled.

“Mama?”

Citlali froze.

The word dropped like a stone in her chest. All sound faded. All thoughts scattered.

Before she could process it, the girl sprang to her feet and ran toward her, bare feet light on the stone path.

“You’re finally awake!”

She wrapped her arms tight around Citlali’s legs.

Citlali didn’t move at first. Her hands hovered, trembling slightly in the air.

Then, she slowly crouched down to the girl’s level as she then moved her hand to touch her just a moment before pulling it back.

The girl didn’t vanish. She didn’t blur or dissolve. She was real.

Citlali brushed her fingers over her cheek, her hair. She felt warmth, softness, a steady heartbeat.

And when the girl looked up at her—

Those eyes. Golden, glowing, wide with joy. Just like his but shaped like hers.

And that hair—light pink, soft and slightly messy, falling just the way hers did in the mornings.

She stared.

“…You look just like…”

The girl giggled. “Like you? Or Papa?”

Citlali’s breath caught again, and for a moment she couldn’t answer.

Because it was both.

The smile. The eyes. The little hands clinging to her arms.

There was no denying it now.

Somehow—impossibly—this child looked like she belonged to them.

Even as the little girl let go of her and turned, humming softly as she padded back inside like nothing had happened—like she hadn’t just said something that shook Citlali’s entire world—she remained frozen at the top of the stairs.

Her hands slowly lowered, but her heart was still racing.

That happened.
She’d felt it—the warmth of the girl’s hug, the softness of her voice, the certainty behind that word. Mama.

But… she didn’t remember. She didn’t know her.

And yet—somehow—she did.

Those golden eyes. That pink hair. The way she smiled, carefree and radiant, as if this was all normal.

Citlali’s breath trembled.

There was no mistaking it. That child… she had his light. And her softness.

And still, no part of this made sense.

She stood there for a moment longer, caught between the need to follow and the ache of not knowing what she’d find. Just as she finally turned toward the doorway—

“Hey—there you are!”

The voice came from behind. Familiar. Light. Steady.

Citlali spun around, startled.

Aether was walking up the path, his expression relaxed as he approached. Beside him floated Paimon, cradling something wrapped in cloth—a small bundle of food.

Citlali blinked at them, her lips parting slightly.

When Aether saw the look on her face, his smile softened into concern.

“…Did something happen?” he asked, stepping closer. “Did she do something again?”

He reached out and rested a hand lightly on her arm.

Paimon tilted her head. “She didn’t accidentally break anything again, did she?”

Citlali opened her mouth—then closed it again.

Their voices were casual. Familiar. Like this was nothing new.

No surprise. No confusion. They weren’t reacting to the shock in her eyes because, to them, there was nothing strange about any of this.

They were used to it.

Aether was still watching her gently, patiently. Like always. But now, that calm made her feel like she was somewhere she didn’t belong. Like she’d stepped into a life that had moved on without her.

Then—

“Mama! Papa’s back!”

The girl’s voice rang brightly from inside the house.

Citlali flinched.

There it was again. That word. Said with such confidence, such joy. Not a trace of doubt.

Aether smiled and gave Citlali’s arm a soft squeeze before stepping past her, heading inside.

Paimon followed, humming to herself as she floated in after him.

Citlali stayed standing on the stairs, her feet rooted to the spot.

Then, after a breath—she followed them in.

The moment she closed the door, Citlali saw them.

The little girl had thrown herself into Aether’s arms, and he caught her without hesitation—kneeling down and pulling her into a warm, familiar embrace.

Citlali slowed to a stop, her breath catching.

Aether laughed softly as the girl clung to his neck. “You missed me that much already?”

“You were gone forever!” she declared dramatically, her voice muffled as she buried her face in his shoulder, giggling.

“I was only out for a little while,” he chuckled, brushing her hair gently back. “But I missed you too, sunshine.”

Sunshine.

That name struck Citlali like a soft echo in a vast space. New, but full of history—like she’d just heard a piece of something that had always been there without her knowing. It didn’t sound like a nickname he came up with on a whim. It sounded lived-in. Familiar.

Her chest tightened.

She had never seen Aether like this before. Never imagined what it would look like, feel like—seeing him cradle a child, so at ease, so openly affectionate. Like it was just another rhythm of their shared days.

And yet… none of this felt like a memory.

It should have been impossible. But the warmth in the room, the way the girl fit so naturally into his arms, the softness in his voice—it all felt too grounded, too real, too close to be just a dream.

“I wanna play,” the girl mumbled into his shoulder.

Aether smiled and gently set her down. “In a bit, okay? Let me go clean up first.”

The girl nodded and wandered back toward the table, where scattered crayons and papers waited for her. She resumed her spot as if nothing had happened, humming a tune as she reached for a fresh sheet.

Aether stood up and gave Citlali a light kiss on the cheek—gentle, casual, like he’d done it a thousand times before—before making his way toward the bedroom.

“Don’t forget to change your shirt this time,” Paimon called out, floating after him.

And then they were gone.

Leaving Citlali standing in the quiet.

Well—not alone.

She turned to glance back at the girl now seated at the table, happily focused on her coloring. She hadn’t even looked up. No acknowledgment, no hesitation. As if this was just how their mornings usually went.

Citlali’s heart beat faster.

She looked around again. At the room. At the girl. At the space she was standing in. It all felt a little too still, a little too sharp around the edges.

Like she was inside something that looked like her life… but wasn't.

The feeling settled into her chest like a weight she couldn’t shake.

This couldn’t be real.

And yet, it didn’t feel fake either.

Was she really just dreaming? It felt like there was more to it. Like she’d been dropped into a moment that already belonged to her—she just didn’t remember how or why.

Her gaze lingered on the little girl.

If this really was a dream…

Then why don’t I feel like waking up? 

Citlali stayed still, heart unsteady, as she tried to process the warmth in her chest. She stared at the little girl—at her soft features, at the delicate pink hair, the golden eyes that sparkled with such natural joy. Like this was the most normal morning in the world.

She swallowed hard. Then gently called out, her voice uncertain.

“Sweetheart… c-can you come here real quick?”

The girl looked up from her scattered papers and smiled as if she’d been waiting for that moment all along. “Okay!”

She came over at once, skipping the last few steps and stopping right in front of Citlali with an expectant little grin.

Citlali knelt down slowly, her fingers hovering in the air before she opened her arms.

Without hesitation, the girl stepped into them, wrapping her arms around her mother’s waist and hugging her tight, like it was just another day.

“Are you feeling better now?” she asked sweetly, looking up with a tilt of her head. “You were sleeping a lot longer today.”

Citlali blinked, caught off guard. Her throat tightened.

Longer today?

“Sorry, I was just… tired,” she said softly, barely managing the words. Her arms slowly tightened around the girl, pulling her closer.

The girl giggled and nuzzled into her. “Mama always says that everything feels better after hugs.”

Citlali closed her eyes.

She hadn’t expected any of this. Not the warmth of the child in her arms. Not the soft voice calling her Mama. Not the way this little girl acted like she’d always been here, like nothing was strange at all.

Only familiarity.

Citlali’s hands trembled slightly as she brushed back a lock of hair from the girl’s face. “You’re so… warm,” she whispered. “So real.”

The girl grinned at her. “Of course I am, Mama.”

A quiet laugh escaped Citlali’s throat—shaky and a little stunned.

She hadn’t known this feeling could exist. This fullness. This quiet, aching joy that pressed up against something she didn’t know was hollow.

It felt like something she never knew she wanted.

And now that it was here… she held onto the moment, not ready for it to end. It felt too precious—too real to let go. But then—

“Sunshine?” Aether’s voice called from down the hall, light and familiar. “I’m all done—ready when you are!”

The little girl perked up, turning toward the sound. But before she ran off, she looked up at Citlali again, her eyes wide with that same gentle joy.

“Can I go play with Papa now?” she asked softly.

Citlali nodded, her voice catching just a little. “Of course you can.”

She leaned down, brushing a kiss to the girl’s forehead. “I love you.”

The girl giggled. “I love you too, Mama!”

With that, she turned and darted down the room, her small footsteps fading away as she called for her papa in delight.

Citlali remained kneeling for a moment, her hands resting in her lap, her heart full and fragile. The silence that followed felt tender, stretched thin and golden like the edge of a dream she didn’t want to wake from.

She didn’t move.

She just wanted to stay like this—just a little longer.

And then— 

  Knock knock.

A sharp sound at the front door, breaking the quiet.

Her eyes opened. The moment was gone.

Knock knock.

Citlali turned her head, startled by the sound. It came again—gentle, steady, as if whoever stood outside already knew she’d answer.

She rose slowly, the remnants of warmth still clinging to her chest. A strange stillness hung in the air, quiet but expectant, like something was about to shift again.

With a cautious breath, she stepped toward the door and pulled it open.

A girl stood there, framed by the light.

She looked… familiar.

Long, pale blonde hair fell over her shoulders in soft waves, nearly the same shade as Aether’s. Her outfit was simple, white with muted gold accents, and somehow caught the light like it didn’t quite belong in this world. Her posture was calm—almost serene.

But Citlali couldn’t see her face. She tried. But every time her eyes reached that far, her vision blurred. Not from fear, not from turning away—something deeper. Like the world itself wouldn’t let her look.

Still, the resemblance to him was uncanny. The shape of her frame. Her presence. The quiet strength she carried. 

Citlali’s breath hitched faintly, and before she could ask anything, the girl spoke—softly, like she already knew the answer.

“…Are you Citlali?” 

Citlali blinked, unsure if she was imagining the question. 

Her voice came out softer than she intended, hesitant. “I… yes. I’m Citlali.” 

The girl nodded, as if that confirmed something she already knew. 

Citlali’s lips parted slightly. “Who… are you?”

The girl tilted her head, her voice light. “I thought you might ask that.”

She stepped forward, not threateningly—just enough to be heard clearly. “I’m sorry for not introducing myself earlier.”

There was a long pause. And then, the name came gently, almost reverently:

“…My name is—” 

Citlali held her breath

“...Lumine.”

When she heard that name, she froze where she stood.

The name rang through her like a bell—soft and clear, echoing somewhere deep.

Aether’s voice came back to her in fragments. In whispers. Late-night stories. Quiet sighs. Brief, fleeting mentions, always weighted with longing and silence. He didn’t speak of her often. And when he did, it was with a softness that felt like heartbreak. Not much. Just enough for Citlali to know what he’d lost. Just enough for her to understand how deeply it still haunted him.

And now here she was.

His sister.

The one who had been missing all this time. The one he had wandered for. Fought for. Hoped for.

Standing before her like a dream within a dream.

Citlali’s breath hitched—but before she could say anything, the ground beneath her shifted subtly. The breeze that had once been still began to pull at the edges of the world. Colors softened. Light stretched too far. The steps beneath her feet no longer felt steady.

It was all coming apart.

Lumine stepped back, her presence beginning to fade, and yet… her smile remained—gentle, wistful.

“I just wanted to see you,” she said. “To meet the woman who made my brother happy… the one he chose to stay beside.”

Citlali stared at her, struggling to find words. She didn’t know what to say. What could she possibly say to that?

“I’m grateful,” Lumine continued, her figure now more light than solid. “Truly… I’m glad to have met you, sister.”

And with that—

She was gone.

The dream unraveled in silence. 

Everything—went to black.