Chapter Text
Life has been livelier recently. And not solely from her newly found freedom. Rather, the addition of the Wanderer into her daily life. His presence is not necessarily a simple one, for all his snark and sass, someone who tends to lash out when something or another makes him feel particularly vulnerable. He didn’t even have to be prompted by someone to do so, his own thoughts seem to tear him apart as they please and on a whim and yet the divine puppet refused to make his recovery easier.
Which is a shame, because Nahida really wants to get the boy to speak about his emotions. To vent his frustrations and manifest his pain in a healthy way versus his current (very dangerous and very volatile) way of doing so. But she takes a step back from her frustrations and reminds herself healing is not easy, it is not linear, and it is not convenient. The Wanderer is heavily, heavily scarred. His form pristine, and yet he may have well been bleeding out amid unholy violence. His pain was loud, unpleasant, and sunk its claws into anything nearby.
Having Wanderer around is not a bad thing , no not by far. Just, different. Nahida enjoys the company no matter how touchy he may be. Her story was correct to portray him as a cat. A small, angry outdoor cat that would wander in and out as he pleased, but the second you tried to close him in, he would scratch and yowl his vocal cords out.
Which is where they find themselves now. Wanderer sitting on the floor in the Sanctuary of Surasthana, flipping through a few books he’d obviously taken out of the library. (And Nahida knows he did not check them out like he should, but she doesn’t press. No need to make him testy so early into their shared evening. He probably just took it upon himself to walk in and out with them. Staff wouldn’t argue, they know he is a guest of hers. The strange looking boy who freely drifts in and out of the Dendro Archon’s spaces.)
And figures he would not use such privileges gracefully! He probably scared the daylights out of any librarian who tried to help him. For some reason, her mind provides the image of a black cat stealing fish from the market when she pictures it. Nahida fights to suppress a chuckle thinking about it.
Drawing in her own legs, Nahida sits contented in a corner as she flips through a book of foreign fairytales. A gift from the Traveler on their journeys and she is eager to get into it.
So eager, that she does not notice the evening fading to morning as light shines into the Sanctuary from above. The only reason she notices anything is the Wanderer’s soft sigh and rough shut of a tome that catches her attention. Though she pretends not to notice him, if only to peek at his expression. Pinched in subtle annoyance as he tossed the book to the side and grabbed another from his pile. Flipping it open and skipping past the index to the first pages.
When she notices his attention is on the book before him, she lowers her own to look at his features. The morning light illuminating his edges and making him look soft yet regal. Nahida can not help herself from seeing Beelzebub overshadow his image.
Just with enough differences to show his youthful design over her own more matured figure. It is no wonder he sees her as he does, a mother to son. Anyone would think as such if they stood beside one another. A proof of concept, not exact but not foreign either, not unlike a child born. The resemblance between them was so easy to see when his features weren’t contorted with anger, fear, or malice.
Nahida wants to ask Ei why she made him as she did. What was going through her mind at the time? Crafting the fragile beauty of a young man, a boy. And she can not help but wonder what he may have become if she had kept him, Inazuma’s ethereal and eternal glass ruler. Something that brings the image of Crystal Flies and Thunder to mind.
“Why are you staring.”
Nahida startles out of her observation to find him looking at her with a faintly annoyed expression. His tone flat.
“You don’t simulate breathing when you’re reading with me– Not that there’s anything wrong with that! Simply something I’ve noticed.”, She manages, it is something she has noted, some weeks ago in fact. His construction was a wonder and even she could not yet wrap her head around it. Everyday she debated contacting Ei for her thoughts, with the Wanderer now safely erased from the world memory, but would never do so without his express consent. Nahida knows it would be a mistake to mention the Electro Archon in front of him at this time, and likely anytime in the near future. It was far, far too early to even try such a thing.
The Wanderer sighs, shutting his book and placing it in his pile. “It’s not like you don’t know what I am. Why? Does it make you uncomfortable that I don’t play pretend for you too?”, His voice is a spit of venom and annoyance, but Nahida feels the insecurities and self-loathing shine through.
“No no, not at all!”, She bounces up, putting her fairytale down and excitedly jumping on the opportunity to converse with him. Taking a few steps closer to him. “However, I did want to ask. Does breathing have any benefit for you? Like ventilating your body?”
He noticeably grows more stiff. Ah, so his constitution is another “Not-At-All” topic. She marks it down in her head to add to her (ever-growing) list later. “What does it matter to you? What’s the point in knowing stupid stuff like that?”
“You don’t have to tell me. It was mere curiosity, nothing more.”
“Yeah well, keep your curiosities to yourself.”, He huffs, grabbing his hat and standing up. Placing it on his head and walking towards the door. Nahida can hear the soft clicks from his internals as he leaves. Stiff from sitting for so long and reading, no doubt.
“Stay safe!”, She says, in place of goodbye. And watches his shoulders tense as he pretends not to hear and slams the Sanctuary door behind him.
Nahida waits until she’s sure he’s no longer near the door before manifesting a journal into her hands. It’s bound in indigo with red and white ribbons on it. And she flips through a good thirty or so pages before marking down today's results.
Wanderer Check-In // Day 32;
-Stayed for over 14 hours to read.
-Did not sleep, still have not seen him rest. (If he does so, it’s when I am resting myself!)
-Today’s books seem to be Inazuman History. Likely still looking for anything that may have changed from his existence being altered.
-Did not like talking about his body (Touchy subject? Is it from his insecurity about being a puppet or from the Doctor? Both?) (Attempt to check if he is uncomfortable with medical care, to gauge possible trauma response from past experimentation at Fatui hands.)
-Much better response to me talking to him than usual. Progress!!
Nahida chuckles to herself. The Wanderer would be so angry if he knew she kept this little journal. How eager she was to try and help the wounded soul he was.
But it was working, she notes. Looking at the stack of books he left behind, a corner dog-eared in one of them to prove he was coming back with intent to finish them.
She wonders if he knew how much it meant to her. That even in his shattered mind and broken heart, he would return to her because he felt comfortable doing so. Safe doing so.
.
.
.
Nahida is neck-deep in paperwork when he does come back (not home yet, but she thinks she is getting him there). There’s so much to go through with the changes in the Academy and reorganizing the Sages, she doesn’t even know how long he was out for.
Time has been falling away so easily between her instatement as Archon for her nation. And Nahida did not want to fail any of her people.
There’s just… So much to do.
With a sigh, she thunks her head down on the stack of paperwork before her.
“Finally losing your mind, Buer?”, Wanderer laughs from the doorway. To anyone else, he would sound cruel, but she knows the sound of his normal teasing by now (versus his malicious mocking). The Sanctuary door closes behind him with a soft click and he strides over to his books from before. Left just as he left them.
She lets out a groan in response, and he pauses. Looking at her with slightly wide eyes, like he hadn’t expected that from the God of Wisdom. “I didn’t mean it seriously .”, Wanderer stops his path to his spot in the corner to walk over to Nahida. Just barely course-correcting himself so she can tell his attention is on her.
“I can not sign one more paper.”, She states. Matter-of-factly.
Wanderer lets out a surprised laugh. “But what if that one’s the really important one?”, He continues to pull for her attention. (For once the gaze of a God does not feel like a brand, rather one-to-one. Immortal to Immortal.)
“I stopped telling myself that three-hundred papers ago .”, Nahida whines, pouting as she glances over another sheet and pens her name.
He inches closer, leaning forward at a respectable distance to see the paper. “What is all that garbage anyways?”
“Everything. This one was a tax adjustment on local specialties exports.”
“Wow. Sounds riveting .”, He reaches down, grabbing a few papers from the top of her ‘done’ pile. Library allocation funds, personnel transfers to Aaru Village, a new course program on ‘How to Handle the Emotional Impact of Your Dreams’. “Real page-turners.”
Eyeing the tiny glowing script at the bottom of the form, as well as the matching green strike-outs and edits. Man, she was really reading each of these things.
“I could probably forge your signature, if you want.”, He smirks. “I am supposed to be aiding you and yet you give me no tasks. I’m getting bored .”
“Hm. Well, I can not have you forging my name, who knows what you’ll sign in my stead.”, Just from a few moments of company does Nahida already feel lighter. But with relief, follows her exhaustion. “Could you grab me something to eat? I do not want to go to bed without something.”
“That’s not a task, Buer.”, Wanderer huffs.
“It is! And the very definition of aiding me! So I can clean up these papers and prepare for bed!”, She cheers to him, watching his eyes roll.
“Fine, but these–”, He puts the papers back on her pile. “–Better be away when I’m back. I'm not wasting myself doing menial labor for you, only for you to have been perfectly able to do it yourself .”
“It will be done.”, Nahida nods, faux-solemn and serious. Truthfully, she should have packed this away hours ago. She barely has time left for a nap before the next day rolls around.
“It better.”
With that, he walks back out of the Sanctuary proper. Disappearing into her hastily put together kitchen they had. She would have to get a proper architect to share their vision. Transforming her former prison into a home. A library as well, if Wanderer’s tedious and growing stack of books in the corner was any example for its usage.
True to her word, Nahida stacks away the reports and quills with a wave of her hand. A wash of her magic and they are safely out of sight and mind. Their absence feels like weight in itself lifted off of her as she all but trots into her bed. (It’s a comfy thing, large enough for full grown adults, so she has plenty of space to move and soft as a cloud. An indulgence but a wonderful one, there was no better place to dream.)
Smells drift out from the kitchen, unfamiliar and she subconsciously leans (still in her bed) towards the other room. Whatever he is heating up does not smell at all familiar. Or… Perhaps… Is Wanderer cooking for her? Did he know how to do such a thing? What would he make?
It’s not long before the Wanderer walks out of the kitchen, bowl in hand and looking painful out of place. Comically so, in Nahida’s mind.
Bloody hands and heart, but she is endeared by the sight of him shuffling a bowl of something that smells earthy over to her. Like tea.
“Here. So you don’t starve and die. If that can even happen to Gods.”
Nahida realizes she was right to assume tea. The aroma of some tea the Traveller has brought from Inazuma because they “thought of her” when they passed it. It was in a small green and gold tin that was ornately patterned with peridot gems.
She accepted it with an excited mind and touched heart. Unfortunately, her hand was not yet practiced in the brewing of tea, so her attempts to make a serving usually ended up in overly-bitter disgrace. She was getting better though! Often she would observe the memories of various tea-masters around Sumeru for their technique. Now all that she needed was muscle memory!
(And her disgusting failed cups usually went into the hands of the Wanderer, claiming he didn’t mind the burnt and ruined taste of the tea before sitting silently to read.)
This smelled nothing like hers. No, with this tea she could smell the vegetal notes, the slight bitter tang and savory aroma. Like how the memories of tea-enthusiasts and artisans smelt.
The bowl in front of her was filled with this wonderful tea with mounds of white rice set inside, covered with a bed of seagrass and a piece of plum. In her lap, it radiated a comforting warmth and just something about the dish said “perfect” to her.
“You made this for me?”
Nahida realizes she said that out loud when she feels Wanderer’s attention snap to the far wall of the room and sees him grow flustered.
“Well, duh. Not like it was hard. This kinda thing has been around before I was even created–”, He sputters. “It’s fast to make. Not a big deal.”
It was a big deal. A massive deal. Nahida had never had someone make a dish for her, let alone bring it to her in bed. She assumed he would heat up a pita pocket or something, maybe bring it to her cold if he was in a mood.
But no.
He made her a dish from Inazuma, his homeland. Did he learn this from his Niwa? Make this for the sickly child he tended to? Make it for himself during his darkest hours with the Fatui?
“--And there's a spoon. I figured your stubby baby hands couldn’t handle chopsticks. Actually even if you had normal hands you probably couldn’t use them–”, The Wanderer is still stumbling. “Ugh, this is stupid. Just eat and go to bed.”
Nahida picks up the spoon and scoops herself a bite. Full of rice, steaming tea and savory seagrass. It warms her through and through and she can feel her vitality return after soul-sucking paperwork. Her enjoyment must show on her face because Wanderer looks pleased with himself for the split second Nahida can see his face before he twists away to his own corner.
After another large bite, Nahida swallows and focuses her gaze on her ward. Face buried in a book on Tatarasuna geography. “Will you teach me?”
“What? To not work yourself to death? Sorry, I don’t think I’m the one for that .”
“No, silly.”, She giggles at his tone, something meant to sound bitter but she’s grown used to his weird way of speech. “To eat with chopsticks.”
“Wha- No. Just use a fork and spoon like you heathens here do. You couldn’t even hold a pair with your childhands, tiny God.”
“I still would like to try. Do you think I can get the Traveller to bring some from overseas?”
“You could ask that idiot to get you a jar of hand-picked angry wasps and they would do it.”
“Very well. I will ask them to bring a few pairs and you can show me how to use them.”
“I never said I would do that!”
Nahida laughs brightly and continues to eat her meal while the Wanderer scoffs and rolls his eyes in a familiar routine for them.
Yes, the puppet is broken and stained beyond redemption, but their Kinship was a step in the right direction. For both of them.