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The oceans crave nothing tonight, fortunately. Relief spreads across the entirety of Beidou, from her closed eyes to curled toes. Outside the Alcor, tides crash against the wooden frame of the ship, ebbing away so leisurely with a rhythm that matches her heartbeat.
Beidou can hear them all. The rise and fall of waves, echoing a sweet, oscillating tune. Countless swirls of bubbles soaring to the almost-still surface, before fading into the night with a small pop. She can feel how the wind, like a carefree spirit, waltzes through cobblestone streets and an empty dock. It wanders aimlessly, offering companionship to creatures of the night. Humans and non-humans. Those basking in sunless secrecy, and those caught in artificial light and nocturnal hedonism like a moth in flames.
To think that the earthly paradise that is Liyue has just narrowly escaped divine wrath. That waters, once towering over the pillars of Guyun, now cede themselves to the gentle pull of the Moon. No shadows of That Which Lies in the Deep, and no serpentine avenger rear its heads, demanding wreckage of souls and ships. Days of devastation seem like ancient tales from Beidou’s childhood–terrifying, and so, so distant from her. And with soft strokes from Ganyu, she simply cannot feel those fragments in time.
Under the fingertips of her lover, Beidou’s scars embody everything, except a reminder of Death’s proximity to her. Or her proximity to it, since she is the one rushing to brave every wave that crosses her path, chasing after this wide, wild world like it is a prized possession stolen from her. Perhaps fate deliberately put Beidou on a thread between aliveness and death to see if she could test–and stretch–its thinness to the limits. Of course, she took that bait. She took in so many things along the way, as well. Things that struck their roots into her life, and blossomed into the twisted shapes all over her body. Nevertheless, they hold no significance to Beidou. She regards them as neither a sight for pitiful tears nor terror. They are, and always will be, pieces of her truth, and she intends for them to rest in undisturbed peace under her eye patch.
If Beidou is a plight chaser, Ganyu, whose fingers are trailing those white lines, is nothing like her. She approaches life with measured, frostlike delicacy, just like how she touches Beidou, or the way her gaze rests on her scarred body, greeting every outlier to the realm of beauty. Ganyu embraces everything, caressing her face with so much love, as if telling her that the deformed shapes across her eyelid is a crown, a thing to be worn with care.
Beidou opens her eyes, pulling Ganyu’s hand away. “What are you doing? Drawing something naughty on my face, hmm?”
Ganyu shakes her head from side to side. “Of course not.”
Her giggles suddenly fill the chamber as Beidou starts peppering the back of her hand with kisses. “You’re a terrible liar, Ganyu.”
The fingers stop suddenly. Ganyu holds her face in a palm, leaning closer and closer until her lips press against Beidou’s forehead, leaving ghosts of coolness and the unmistakable scent of Qingxin on her skin. Beidou cannot help but inhale them, ceasing her interrogation.
“As a matter of fact, I’m trying to figure out the stars on your face.” Ganyu says.
“Stars? I’m not quite sure I’m following you.” Beidou raises her eyebrows in wonder.
Ganyu’s mysterious smile comes into bloom. “Ah, must I give out answers that easily? Where are my offerings, dearest mortal?”
“Silly Adeptus, spare me your rhetorics.” Beidou tucks a strand of blue hair behind her lover’s ear. “What is it that you’re doing to my face?”
“Ah, it’s nothing, really.” There Ganyu goes again, blessing the deep, faded cuts with soul-piercing lightness. “It’s just that…the way these scars spread out so prettily on your face, they remind me of constellations dotting the heaven’s dome. I’m just trying to see which star they resemble!”
“Your Adeptal imagination is impossible to fathom.” Beidou lets out a tired sigh.
“Oh, don’t say that. You sound like you're reciting a recitative from an opera or something…” Ganyu frowns. “And as a renowned archer, my Adeptal prowess lies in visual acuity, Beidou, not imagination.”
Beidou hums in unimpressed and puzzled acknowledgement. Strangely, that somehow piques Ganyu’s humor.
“That means I see things. With. Perfect. Clarity.” Ganyu’s continues, eyes glowing with subtle pride as she stresses those words. “I would recognize celestial beauty everywhere, especially when it lies next to me–oh–and starts blushing furiously like ripe Jueyun chili.”
Beidou groans, not even bothered to hide her disdain towards Ganyu’s corny speeches. The silvery laughs bubbling in Ganyu’s throat, however, manages to soften the Captain’s face even more. “C’mon, don’t ruin our lovely, private night of extreme rarity with your sappy language.”
“Was it too much?” Ganyu props herself up on an elbow. Amusement combined with the joy of teasing her lover lights up her whole body.
“Well, to be honest, it is not as bad as the time you used slang on…”
A pause.
“On what?”
“You know! That time!” Beidou waves her hand. Warmth begins to spread all over her cheeks as memories of…endearingly awkward intimacy come back to her. “You know what? Never mind.”
“But I thought you like to be courted?”
“Not at all!”
“Oh, kids these days do not know how to do romance justice.” Ganyu declares with a singsong voice, one free hand waving around to demonstrate her point. “Even in bed, we ought to remain sophisticated, our words genuine yet carefully crafted. For example, perhaps you could think of something else to say other than ‘Archons’ when reaching orga–”
“Alright, alright! We don’t have to go there!” Beidou widens her eyes. The almost-screech is filled with dread, a polar opposite of Ganyu’s satisfied smug. “Can you…can you just tell me what’s written there?”
“You mean your face?” Ganyu cranes her neck, mildly bewildered.
“Yeah, like, if my scars really look like a constellation, then…Perhaps you could read what’s written in these stars?”
Ganyu opens her mouth, and for a moment Beidou thinks she is going to say something–probably much to her chagrin, since the other seems to have mischief on board instead of her usual sheepishness. But no, there is nothing. Silence is still hanging in the air. Ganyu only inches forward and looks at her intently, as if Beidou's eyelid suddenly grants her the power of divination. A pair of eyes that Beidou comes to know so well gently shines, and Ganyu’s lips arch into a familiar curve of a smile. Beidou feels as if she is a flurry of clouds, observed by a curious, loving bird.
“What would you say, mighty Adeptus?” Beidou asks.
Ganyu tucks Beidou’s hair behind her ears. “Still thinking.” And that familiar smile arrives at the corner of Beidou’s mouth.
“To be honest, I don’t have a good feeling about this.”
“Oh, why is that?” Ganyu tilts her head, concerned.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of someone’s fatally cringey language?”
Ganyu blinks her eyes. Once, twice, thrice. Then relief takes over her. “Understood. I will stop. No more games of courting and wooing.” She sighs wearily. “And I thought it was something serious, like your discomfort with certain constellations.”
“Worry not, I don’t hold any astrological beliefs in particular. Besides, my name is literally Beidou, the Northern Dipper.” She says, her deep voice fading into a sudden, timid diminuendo. “You know those sayings from ancient times.”
The Northern Dipper serves Death, and those born under the dominion of these stars are the living omen of doom.
“Of course.” Ganyu replies with a voice that makes Beidou forget everything. “And they were wrong.”
She reaches out to the Captain, her knuckles brushing ever so tenderly against her lover’s cheek. Ganyu’s touch is but a feather coming to rest on where the past burned.
Beidou can see that the playful glint in Ganyu’s eyes–flickering, previously threatening to burn brighter–has melted away already. Every speck and embers of tease give in to something much, much softer. Unspeakable, unnamed, pronounced only in the tiny space between them.
“I think I’ve got an idea now, Captain.” Ganyu whispers.
“Oh, do go on, love.”
“The scars on your face remind me of an eagle, with wings spreading to its full glory.” Ganyu slowly explains. “There is this brilliant constellation called ‘Aquila,’ which has the same meaning. It can be seen with the naked eye only when you’re spending summertime at Snezhnaya.
“Oh, the Great Eagle of the Northland? How interesting.” Beidou elongates her voice, pondering Ganyu’s interpretation. “Normally people do not associate me with creatures of the sky.”
“I do not know how to read the stars, actually. I just think that eagles fit you so well.” Ganyu pensively rubs her chin. “Hmm, where should I start? You are courageous, yet void of thirst for heroism. You do not live for the bard’s ode to your adventures, or relish in praises sung in every land. I can always find you at the frontline, but not to make history, to protect others, sometimes at your expense. And you love, love freedom. Your longing for the horizon…it runs in your blood, occupies your mind.”
Ganyu comes closer. Adoration and reverence are breathed into her words, and they glow like prayers to gods. Beidou nods slowly. Her love is just a fingertip away. It is almost impossible to feel any boundary of their physiques. She cannot tell whose heart is making a staccato of drip-drop sounds. It rings in the hollow halls of her eardrums, slurring the spinning of time altogether.
“But there is more to it.” Ganyu’s thumb graces the scars again, and Beidou’s skin burns, but not in a violent way. The electro energy that floods her veins is sparking, speaking to the soothing coldness that Ganyu’s touch brings. Both melt into the feeling of gold that fills passages of wounds on Beidou’s eyelid, reminding her of the wholeness of her own existence. “The desire to be free goes hand in hand with your will to bind yourself to your trusted ones, to look after your own flocks. You are no lone sailor. You are Captain Beidou of the famed Alcor, always looking after your people, their families. Is this why wherever the wind blows, you are there, among your crews? Is this the reason you’re so determined to follow your life’s calling?”
Ganyu’s voice dissipates into thin air, like a string of dew kissed into oblivion by sunrise.
“Wherever I am, I want you there.” Beidou replies.
She takes Ganyu’s hand, drawing a small circle on it, feeling liquid glaciers that flow within her lover’s body. A common gesture of affection to her lover, and an act of affirmation to herself. She wants to make sure that the woman in front of her is not a lingering ghost, shades casted by the cruel past to fool her heart. Ganyu sleeping next to her, bare skin to bare skin–this sounds like an impossibility, a landscape of her most treasured dreams. An intimacy so honest and delicate that it breaks Beidou's heart, because she does not want to see everything dissolving into nothingness, like shattered illusions.
“To be wanted by no other than Captain Beidou…” Ganyu smiles. “What an honor that is.”
“After I send Traveler off to Inazuma, I’m all yours, yours alone.” Beidou kisses the back of her hand. “I promise.”
“Inazuma…Of course, of course. How could I forget?” Ganyu says carefully. “You can always find me at the dock, waiting for you.”
A pleasant smile, blue hair cascading down her shoulders like waterfalls, her body shining with jade-like moonlight. This is a sight that Beidou is privileged to see countless times; however, something is lurking underneath this sublimity.
“What’s the matter, my love?” Beidou puts her hand on Ganyu’s shoulder. The scars–thousand years of burdens–are the first thing that greets her fingers.
“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” Ganyu shakes her head slowly, not facing the Captain. Fortunately, Beidou is quick enough to catch the darkness that creeps into the pit of her eyes.
“What is it, Ganyu?” She asks again, with a softer tone this time.
The familiar name trembles on Beidou’s lips like a whispered plea. Still, Ganyu’s were sealed, not yielding to her. A pained expression hangs on her face instead.
Beidou gives a nod of understanding, settling upon stroking the shoulder gingerly. This has happened before. It could be a sudden visit from memories, emotions intensely felt, leaving her lover in the oceans of revelation. Her oceans, to be precise; it is something that entrusts itself to Ganyu solely. Beidou knows better to wait on the shore and let the tides return her when it’s time.
But then Ganyu breaks the storm of silence.
“It’s just that…We have so little time together.” Her voice is raspy, as if invisible hands are dragging each word out of her throat. “You will be gone, to the place where I can’t follow, where thunderstorms and precarity await, ready to ambush.”
Upon hearing Ganyu’s confession, Beidou freezes. Guilt latches on her rib cages, striking at her heart so hard that breathing is no different from suffocating. Suddenly all the languages of this world fail her. “I’m sorry. So sorry, Ganyu.”
“There is nothing to apologize for. It’s not your fault.” Ganyu sweeps Beidou’s hair up from the forehead. A polite smile plastered on her face does not quite reach her eyes. “How should I put this? I have all the time in this world, and all of it belongs to you, too, Beidou. I only wish for your safe return, so that you could spend the rest of it with me. It doesn’t matter how long I will have to wait, no. Time is never the problem for me.”
“Then what troubles you?”
“That I don’t know when I will ever see you again.”
Ganyu finally looks at her lover, through the veil of desperation that dims the light within her.
“I swear to Archons.” Beidou guides Ganyu’s hand to where her heart is beating. “The eternal ruler of Inazuma won't be able to stop me from going home. Hell, celestial gods will have to descend and break my legs with their own hands if they want to hold me back.”
Ganyu blinks her eyes, at a loss. Then shock transforms into genuine confusion. She stares at Beidou so intensely that the Captain thinks she has miraculously grown a pair of horns on her head or something. But before she could begin to interrogate her lover, Ganyu starts laughing, a suppressed chuckle that eventually bursts into a round of hearty laughter resounding unapologetically around Beidou’s chamber.
“Hey, hey, what’s so funny!?” Beidou asks, letting go of her hand.
“Sorry, sorry, I’m just–” Ganyu answers meekly. She nuzzles her nose in the crook of Beidou’s neck. “ ‘Celestial gods will have to descend and break my legs with their own hands if they want to hold me back.’ Oh Beidou, you are–how can I say this as diplomatically as possible?–dramatically crazy and crazily dramatic for daring literal gods like that, but I love you very much for it.”
“Not you calling me crazy after the heartfelt declaration of my devotion to you!”
“No, no, you’re not crazy at all.” Ganyu explains. “You’re brave. You always are.”
“Whatever you say.” Beidou drapes her arms around Ganyu, one hand stroking the top of her head absent-mindedly. Inside Beidou’s sanctuary, they are shrouded in silence. Not a kind of suspenseful silence that that eats one alive, like that of the eye of the storm. Here is where violence sings no song. The sounds of Ganyu breathing in and out fill Beidou like music. Days of survival fade into oblivion, and days of living return to her, just as she does to Liyue. To Ganyu.
But silence also hides the truth, that which swells in Beidou’s heart, about to leap from her throat.
Beidou is not always brave, and sometimes it is not her decision to stand in the way of misadventures. The truth is, dread filled her body with its undeniable weight, until she could not move away. Her heart could not take wings all the time, and it succumbed to atrophy ever since Rex Lapis’s assassination and attacks of the vanquished god.
She still recalls how, during the Rite of Parting, despair lingered on hushed words and cadences like shadows, and they seem to never go away.
Boss, do you know what the fatui bastards from the Bank are talking about right now? One hopeless night, Junza–Beidou’s right hand–came for a drink, but not a single drop of fine liquor slid down his throat. Not when his furious, slurred voice was booming with tremor. Th-they said, Morax–oh, peace be upon Him–just came crashing down on an incense urn and laid there, like a broken rock. Worthless. A goddamned broken rock!
Worthless. A goddamned broken rock. This sentence lodged itself inside Beidou for the longest time. The sovereign of all Adepti, the Lord of Geo whose protection blessed Liyue ever since the first brick of the harbor was laid, was tossed down to the earth, face stained with dirt. His head that had never been lowered to anyone, now rested on the ground, at the level of a stray dog’s paws–like a worthless, broken rock.
Rex Lapis–Beidou could not muster up enough strength to weep for him. Not that she harbored resentment towards the late Archon, the incident simply sent all her sentiments and senses into exile, leaving a deep rift on where her understanding of the world once resided. Her god no longer walked among humans. He userhed Liyue to golden prosperity only to be met with disgrace. A thousand years of almighty presence crumbled in a blink of an eye. As a mere mortal, Beidou simply did not know what to do with this reality, this death sentence that served no one but the cold, unyielding order of the universe.
But the Captain of the Crux could not show any sign of terror, or else the crews would lose whatever remained of their morale. She had to act tough. She had to be the voice that led all sea shanties, an anchor when the entire fleet swayed on the wild tides, the first to step out and quell the storm. She lost count how many times she tried to be more than herself.
Colorless liquor spilled onto her table again. At that time, Beidou was at Third-Round Knockout, and she had lost count how many times the cup in her hand was refilled. Her throat was on fire, but that immovable icicle of questions remained stuck in her mind. She wondered if Rex Lapis ever felt the same about his duty. What did he think when seeing minor lives turned into dust or facing his divine executioner? What would he do with his fear? Did he have any, or sheath all of them in his stoic majesty and wisdom?
Then his servant, Ganyu, stepped in and saved Beidou from her own rumination.
There was pathos in her voice. And something else, but Beidou was too deep in ibriety to notice. The way Ganyu said, that’s enough for tonight, already melted her façade, and her true self has never gushed out so fast. I don’t understand what’s happening, Ganyu. To me. To Liyue. To everything. I’m s–sorry. Didn’t mean to bombard you with my emotional mess. I just don’t know when it happened, let alone when it’s going to stop.
Beidou wanted to feel enough, so softly and firmly like the way Ganyu uttered this word. She wanted to be nothing more than herself–lost, vulnerable Beidou–not the leader of the fleet. Enough. That word felt like a lovely dream beyond her reach, but it came from Ganyu, and she was as real as her gentle voice. As genuine as the fact that this world refused Beidou’s possessive hands, and there was nothing this great yet powerless Captain could do, except embracing all the things that came her way. So she let Ganyu speak to her, again and again. All that matters is that it will stop, Beidou. And you don’t have to wait for that day to come all by yourself anymore. I’m here.
Again and again she said thus, until Beidou’s aching mind was numbed, and the night took her into a dreamless cocoon.
Yet, not long after that, another nightmare emerged in a waking moment.
When the Overlord of Vortex arose from the seas, the Crux was stranded at the Falcon Coast, surrounded by flat grassland that stretched into an evergreen tapestry. They just delivered goods to Dornman Port and were heading back to Liyue harbor until they could not. Beidou’s gaze was fixed on the horizon on the other side of this world. Storms with shades darker than the night encroached all around it, a voracious swallow that let no light in and left none out. The terrified crews were gathering on the Alcor, hollering and pointing at the sight of great perils looming over Liyue. The city that bled Beidou’s existence, only to push her towards the embrace of waters, was fading into history, and all she could do was standing rooted to the ground like a trapped prey. She had yet to demand all the things that city of gold took away from her, yet it would soon cease to exist. Her bitterness towards destiny, her heart that shriveled with injustice and swelled with the pride of finding her people, founding her own home–they did not matter anymore. The howling wind was blowing them away.
The great perils would outstay, perhaps never leave Liyue, Beidou believed so. Even if the ashen clouds and rainstorms retreated, and her feet were back on the wooden board of the same old dock once more, she still trembled. All kinds of liquor–warm and cold, dirt cheap and worthy of all the gold in this world–could only sedate her a bit, not purging the nightmares. None could, until Ganyu held her hands and said, I’m so glad to meet you again. So glad. But this time her voice was marked with a slow, restrained cadence.
Like that night at Third-Round Knockout, Beidou took Ganyu’s hands, softly repeating words of solace, I’m back, until the stars descended towards the sleeping horizon, and dews began to drop on the floor instead of tears. Yet what she said was not meant for Ganyu alone. It was for herself and Liyue. She still did not know if it was a declaration or an offering of apology.
Little did Beidou know that victory also sent an invitation to avenge, to the vast seas.
By the time the great serpent crushed the shore with merciless determination, fear rose to become Beidou’s most intimate companion. She knew it by heart, against her own will, from watching the oceans devouring the Millelith. Sunken ships. The once fearless Yuheng failing to wield her mighty sword without shaky hands. And Ganyu, whose petite frame was completely eclipsed by the threatening shadows. Only the light from cryo flowers blooming at the tip of her bow protected her from this darkness.
Death–the very thing that had been breathing down her neck since the day of her forced departure from the fishing village, a reminder that every journey had its end, including that of the victorious Captain. It did not just chase after her, no. Oh, Beidou, how foolish of her to underestimate the depth of its hunger. One measly life would never be enough. Death ran past her, stretching its greedy hand to Ganyu, as if laying claim to her bets.
Everything happened in a flash, rolling into gigantic waves that nearly sent her to the abyss of the oceans. It was just a fraction of a second, but Beidou would never forget the feeling of the world crashing down upon her, dragging her into the unfolding destruction. She saw faces of soldiers, and all of them were pale, deprived of any semblance of warmth. All the colors of life were swept into the seas. She saw bodies in desperate motion. The Millelith rushed to drifting debris, holding onto everything that kept them afloat and away from tragic endings. Their polearms and heroic enterprise were left behind without hesitation. She witnessed an outcry of vengefulness tamed by Adepti arts, frozen into an iceberg that sheared off and submitted at last. The wind stopped roaring. The tides ceased its assault. Chaos no longer spilled into the land. Yet Beidou still could not breath, not until she saw Ganyu.
It took only a split second for everything to be washed away. Perhaps that was Beidou’s fate, and the incident at Liyue was an omen to her life?
This time, she chose to step into the unknown herself.
Vision granted Beidou power, infinite ability to summon electro energy at her fingertips. But in front of the most divine incarnation of thunder, her Vision was nothing but a toy from her childhood–insignificant, doomed to be broken. So was her own life.
Yes, it is true that Beidou escaped from everything, not losing any of her bet to Death. But was it a win when she no longer felt alive? She did nothing but surviving from day to day, not thinking about what tomorrow would bring. The young and brave Captain that slaughtered Haishan with her own hands, now dares not even think about the sweet rain that pours on the lovely garden of Yujin terrace.
“B–Beidou…c–can’t breathe.”
Ganyu’s muffled whispers suddenly enter Beidou’s consciousness. She does not realize she has been hugging Ganyu so tightly.
“Archons! I’m sorry.” Beidou lets go of her immediately. “Are you still with me, my love? Still breathing?”
“Almost not. I nudged you so many times.” Ganyu frowned, albeit good-naturedly. “Tell me, what kept your mind so occupied?”
“Just this and that, usual stuff. Inazuma, the navigation route, supply, and us.” Beidou slowly lifts her upper body off the bed, still feeling heavy in the heart.
“Us?”
“Don’t tease me about this, alright?” Beidou turns her face away. “It can’t be helped. I’m literally sailing into the Shogun’s thunder. Thinking of you makes me feel at home.”
“It’s the same for me.” Ganyu puts her hand on Beidou’s shoulder. “Even if you’re near, or far away in the unreachable distance, I keep thoughts of you closest to my heart.”
Ganyu squeezes her so lightly. Beidou reaches out to her without thinking. Her body acts on its own, yearning to be impossibly close with Ganyu, to have their hands intertwined like their fate.
“Right now, I want to love you, even if just a little longer. One more day. One more minute, just a second longer is enough.” Ganyu continues. “Because I don’t know how the future will turn out to be, how far will the waves carry you, away from me and Liyue, or how many responsibilities will fall upon me and take up all my time, since Lady Keqing is such a…determined person.”
“A crazy workaholic who has no life outside development projects and plumbing systems, you mean?”
“Well, let’s leave it at that, shall we?” Ganyu politely smiles. Her voice comes out in the way flowers wake up to the call of Spring. So humanly tender, it takes Beidou’s breath away. A thing of familiarity that at once feels like a discovery and a privilege. “Think of me sometimes, will you? At least we’re together in our thoughts. That makes me feel like you are always with me.”
“Of course.” And that is all Beidou can utter. Her strength has shriveled just like her heart, her throat filled with an invisible lump. Yet her feelings stubbornly expand, demanding that she become more greedier, braver in her wants, more fearless.
“I must apologize for dampening the moods earlier.” Ganyu says weakly.
“No need, no need.” Beidou replies with the same tone. “I always want to hear what you think. It means a lot to me.”
“Well, there’s something about you.” Ganyu smiles. “It draws words out of me so easily. I find myself talking without realizing that. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.” Beidou lightly traces the side of Ganyu’s face. “Now, do you know what I think about right now?”
Ganyu nods.
“I want you to trust me. Believe in me when I say I’m coming back. Please, wait for me.”
Instead of saying yes, Ganyu lifts her face up, and savors that promise with her own lips. A kiss laced with understanding and fierce loyalty. Her body is trying to remember the softness of her lover, taking it in as her own. A kiss that leaves her tenderness to the warm embrace of her lover’s memory. A kiss that reminds the Captain that her bones and body are not the only anchor in life, and the Crux is not the only structure of home she will ever have.
And Beidou kisses her back with the same passion. In her shrunken heart, there was a room saved for Ganyu, and every corner longed for her presence, even the faintest of her shadows.
Beidou closes her eyes. In that moment, all goes away, slipping from her like sands falling through the gap of her fingers. Suddenly she cannot feel the course of history that bleeds their lives, or the future waiting to ambush them with full force. Yet Beidou does not care. The grand scheme of the universe does not matter. All she knows is that her senses belong to Ganyu alone. She knows that, after opening her eyes, the only things she will see are Ganyu, and the way two bodies are soaked in a palette of the deep sea, as night casts shadows over their bare skins. That is their only tutelage against the prying eyes of heavens, but it makes Beidou strong, unassailable even, in their naked intimacy. She feels infinite in her immortality. Big things–like an everlasting contract to a god who have fallen before seeing it broken, the awful Leviathan, or the wrath of the Vortex –are but anecdotes hidden in the margins of their lives.
Beidou’s calloused fingers stroke her lover’s forearms. So soft, despite–no, against–everything.
Ganyu pulls her down, not with force, but with gentleness, as if pleading. And Beidou follows. Their bodies join in a long awaited reunion, legs intertwined so intimately, even time cannot reach them. There is no space left for anyone but them. Not even for this world.
And Beidou wants more.
“B–beloved, stop.”
Despite her muted voice, Ganyu’s hand comes to grip Beidou with inhuman firmness, shaking her out of the hazy pleasure at once.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you anywhere?” Beidou blinks her eyes, still in a daze. The fire within consumes her, melting her brain so well that it turns as soft as almond tofu.
“I’m good, I’m good.” Ganyu pants. “It’s just…”
“Just what, dear?” I’m going to lose my mind, Beidou thinks to herself. “What’s the matter?”
“It’s a bit late, I need to sleep now.” Ganyu’s apologetic gaze lowers. “I’m so sorry.”
When silence falls, Beidou props herself up. She breathes in and out, again and again, until Ganyu’s confession sinks in and the storm inside her settles.
Before laughing like there is no tomorrow into her own palms.
“Beidou?” Ganyu does not hesitate for a second to grab Beidou’s wrist. “Why are you laughing!?”
“P–please don’t be mad at me! I can explain!” Beidou tries to break free, albeit unsuccessfully.
“Then tell me what’s so funny!”
“Girl, I was expecting to be completely destroyed by your Adeptal prowess in bed again.” Beidou chuckles. “I totally forgot you are older than this harbor. Of course, you need more sleep than m–please let go of me, milady, please. I am but a mere mortal, could never dare to go against your might. Have mercy on me and my wrist.”
Ganyu removes her hand reluctantly. In the night as dark as the dying sun, her face reddens until it cannot be any redder. She turns her back, hiding the obvious embarrassment. “Hmph, it’s past my bedtime…and both of us are no longer young, Beidou. We need to be well rested.”
“Understood. Let us sleep, shall we?”
“Good night.”
“My love, please forgive me.” Beidou coos, wrapping her arms around Ganyu, resting her chin on the shoulder.
“I’m not mad…” Ganyu protests weakly.
“...Really?”
“Beidou!” Ganyu scowls, suddenly turning toward her lover. “Please get your hand off my horns!”
“Oopsie.” Beidou makes a silly face that she knows will elicit a smile from Ganyu. “Tell me, how shall I repent?”
A look of contentment crops up on Ganyu’s face. “I don't know. You tell me.”
“Hmm, that’s a tough question.” A grin only Ganyu knows widens. Beidou feels as if she is Ganyu's favorite flower, and the warm breeze is taking her higher and higher, beyond the mundane and death-bound. “Thinking of something that can be compared to you, but that is impossible, no?”
In Ganyu’s eyes, there is a palette of twilight. Colors of the ending that nears but never arrives, much like her life that transcends all limitations. And there is Beidou, too, gleaming between dimmed gold and violet that she comes to know so well. A small but noticeable drop in a flow of unending history, her reflection swims amidst all that is locked behind Ganyu’s irises. Truth forbidden that turned into secrets untold. Days of yore that were not granted a second life on a page of a book. She is among all of them. None shines brighter than her reflection.
“I’m still waiting for your answer, Captain.” Ganyu says, staring back at her with the purest of delight and the softest of adoration.
“Give me some time.” Beidou replies, hiding one more secret behind her beam.
She knows exactly she is going to do, she only wants Ganyu to look at her a little longer, before they close their eyes, sinking into slumber and tender dreams.
Seen, kept alive in remembrances–perhaps this is the only way for Beidou, a human with numbered days, to be part of her lover’s immortality until the end of time. After all, she is not the one with time on her side, it belongs to Ganyu.
“This should suffice.” Beidou takes a deep breath, and presses her lips against her lover’s eyelid.
That is alright. She, too, belongs to Ganyu’s memory.