Archive of Our Own

As a god, Morax did not allow himself to have favorites. Six thousand years of rule—and many millennia before that—sealed that conviction in him. Generations of humans lived and died under his watch. Gods large and small were crushed during the Archon War and the Seven itself was not consistent in its ranks.

Even the adepti, in their godlike longevity, were not immune. Only one of the Guardian Yakshas remained, and the rest of the surviving adepti were scattered throughout Liyue.

It was easier to not play favorites. There was less to lose that way.

The Princess of Khaenri’ah was quickly becoming an exception: the fallen star from another world that now called Teyvat home. Ever since Princess Lumine had visited Jueyun Karst, he could only think of her.

Her reputation preceded her. There were many stories of her running into dangerous situations for nobles and peasants alike. It wasn’t surprising that she was willing to lay down her life to bring relief to her people.

Morax would not have taken her life. He would have considered the trek, the humility that she had shown, enough of a price to pay for his assistance. It was only when something greedy and primal roused in him, that he decided to see how far the Princess of Khaenri’ah would go.

She did not disappoint. She was unlike anyone he had met before. Golden hair, delicate features. There was an aura of power around her, pure and multifaceted. He could taste it when he kissed her. Anemo was the most prominent--bright and sharp—surely the element that she had temporarily claimed for herself. He could also taste the familiar, immovable force that was Geo, along with the other elements that ruled Teyvat. It was addicting, just to be close to her.

He had not intended to be celibate for so long, but part of him was glad that the long drought had broken.

Lumine had fit perfectly in his arms, under his body. The way she blushed and squirmed underneath him, desperate for him, haunted him day and night to the point it was becoming embarrassing how often he found himself full of arousal at the memory. Now that he had a taste of her, he could only crave more and hope for another visit.

Like all things, Morax was able to put the thoughts away to attend to his duties, as few as they were.

Liyue had been relatively quiet for the past several decades. The hordes from the Abyss had been tamed, except for stragglers that were swiftly dealt with by Xiao whenever they trespassed. He had little reason to come down from his perch, but now, there was an itch to travel.

He could change his appearance to that of a peasant and disappear for a little while, but he knew better. Teyvat was in too fragile a state for him to leave his post. He could imagine it: sneaking into Khaenri’ah, into the palace, to see the Princess. Teyvat would be in an uproar.

There was still the temptation; so, he allowed himself one indulgence. He was allowed a great deal of power as the God of Geo. As easily as one could shrug off a coat, his awareness left his physical form.

Long ago, before he stepped into the light from the earthen caves of Teyvat, Morax had the privilege of ambulating freely under the earth. He could travel from one end of Teyvat to the other in mere minutes. That power had diminished over the years, sacrificed for the sake of peace among the Seven. Nobody would allow one of them to carry such a power. Now, only his consciousness could travel with such speed. It had its benefits. He could find anyone in Teyvat if he wanted to, to spy if he wanted to.

Quickly, he passed through Tianqiu Valley and trekked through Lingju Pass. The creeks were swollen with water and the grass was bright and filled with flowers. Morax allowed himself a moment of pride over his domain.

He had been neglectful before. Even weeks removed from Lumine’s visit, he couldn’t explain why he had allowed Liyue and the surrounding areas fall into disarray. It wasn’t until her arrival that the cobwebs had been shaken off and he remembered himself.

South, past the border between Liyue and Khaenri’ah. The nation-state was small in comparison to the other nations, so they built upwards, with buildings high enough to even rival the mountains of Jueyun Karst. The royal palace was the biggest building, in the center of the city. It was a taunt to Celestia above, and a reminder to the Archons that there was power in that city, that they shouldn’t be underestimated.

It was too easy to sense Lumine’s presence; she was a diamond among the thousands of dull grains of sand that filled Khaenri’ah.

He could feel her restlessness all the way from Jueyun Karst. Every time his gaze fell on her, she was moving. Lots of pacing, lots of training. The princess was not meant to be cooped up in the gilded halls of Khaenri’ah. She had the spirit of a traveler, someone who could not be pinned down to one region of the world.

It was no wonder that she and her brother had come from another world: fallen stars that had found rest, perhaps only temporarily, in Teyvat.

Every day, multiple times a day, his gaze turned to Khaenri’ah, just to feel the weight of her footfall upon the earth. Each time, he longed for her embrace. His favorite time to watch her was in the late night, when each step was heavy and swaying with exhaustion, meandering about where he assumed was her personal quarters, before she eventually went to bed.

He could only hope that she thought of him.

“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a smile like that on your face before.”

Morax blinked, immediately schooling his expression as Barbatos grinned mischievously.

Maybe it was the wind that caught the nearby trees that reminded him of Princess Lumine. The two Archons shared wine on the highest peak of Jueyun Karst. Barbatos refused to be in Morax’s underground abode for longer than a few minutes.

“I’m not sure to what you are referring,” Morax replied drily, hoping that the other Archon would just drop the subject.

It was for naught. Barbatos lolled his head lazily, already thoroughly tipsy from his third glass of wine. The wind had a way of slipping through even the tiniest of cracks.

“I think you do~! That’s the same kind of face I would see in a starry-eyed lover in Mondstadt. It’s the kind of look I could write a song about,” Barbatos sighed.

Barbatos summoned his lyre into his hands and strummed a few notes, the beginnings of a sweet love song. Morax had to swallow back a growl. He could tolerate teasing—he was victim to much of it—but his hackles raised all the same: grinding scales and shaking earth.

He wouldn’t have the other Archons ruin this.

The Anemo god either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I know I can rule out your entourage—since Lady Keqing and Lady Ganyu are clearly into each other and not into you in the slightest. And you would never have such feelings for one of the Seven.”

The bard shuddered comically before turning shrewd eyes to Morax.

“Did some mortal catch your eye, old man?”

Morax took a long sip of wine. It would take a while for him to get drunk, at least drunk enough to even consider discussing his feelings with Barbatos. He couldn’t speak of what happened when he and Princess Lumine were alone together—bound by contract to never speak of it.

Barbatos would hardly care if Morax told him what was on his mind. He would at most be tickled by the idea of Morax having a crush on someone. Still…he wanted to keep this close to his chest, protect the fragile little thing between him and the Princess, before politics and obligations could begin to destroy it.

“How about we instead talk about the eyes you were making at the Guardian Yaksha when you arrived?”

It was a low blow, but it quickly served to shut Barbatos up. The Anemo Archon’s face turned red with embarrassment.

Later that night, drunk on one too many bottles of Osmanthus wine, Morax ambled aimlessly through his abode.

Barbatos had disappeared, along with a very expensive bottle of rice wine from Morax’s stores. His feet had been feather-light on the ground to hide himself from Morax’s eye. Not that it worked, when he settled back to earth to enter Xiao’s humble hut at the base of Jueyun Karst.

Morax blew out a sigh. Loneliness had fully set in like a heavy fog, a familiar bedfellow.

Keeping his hands busy wasn’t helping. The pot of tea that sat on the grand dining table was growing cold while he watched. It was a waste, but his hands just hung by his hands, flexing hard and relaxing, over and over.

He knew that he could do. The thought had danced around in his head for weeks.

Pathetic. It was all pathetic and he couldn’t help himself.

The finery of the abode shivered and clattered in a thousand discordant notes as the ground rumbled.

Marble cracked like desiccated dirt as the god of Geo created his distraction.

Hair of fine gold. The brightest cor lapis made up the eyes. Marble and porcelain for skin, clothed in shards of lapis lazuli and Noctilucous jade. Pink quartz for lips, shaped in a perfect bow.

He exhaled, just a touch of divine power slipping from him to the statue. A little life, as fleeting is he could give it.

The doll moved sluggishly, as if a creature gently roused from sleep. Her golden eyes glowed and blinked with obsidian flecks for eyelashes, not quite as soft and inviting as the real thing.

It was close to the real thing, the same visage that haunted him. Painfully close.

He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, then pressed his thumb to her lower lip. Every inch was smooth and flawless, but there was no give to the skin, devoid of softness.

In some ways, the doll did capture some of Lumine’s beauty: the curve of her cheek, the swell of her breasts.

A god surely couldn’t commit the sin of idolatry?

The doll smiled. Morax frowned.

He was not like Ei and Makoto, who liked to make little men out of stone and sand, breathing enough life and intelligence into them so they weren’t stumbling around blindly in the dirt. Little men who didn’t feel pain when their creators returned them to the smear of the earth. They had their little zoo in Inazuma City, filled unaging copies of Teyvat’s creatures: pristine, docile, and untouched by death. All in good fun, they would say, no different than a mother crafting dolls from cloth for her children.

The porcelain puppet crumbled to nothing at the flick of his wrist and immediately he knew that no doll made of earth would be a worthy replacement of a creature made of starlight.

He would just have to wait.

A week later, after a morning of entertaining a Feiyun Commerce Guild representative who was not subtle about bemoaning Morax’s hermetic lifestyle. He went on and on about how his presence had not been felt in Liyue Harbor for over a decade outside of the yearly Rite of Descension, where he was quick to make an egress after giving his blessing.

Morax could only deflect. He couldn’t himself identify why he hadn’t graced his people with an appearance for such a long time. It wasn’t as if he disliked visiting.

He built Yiyan Temple over six thousand years ago and liked to make sure it was well-managed. The foundation was solid and unshakeable.

The last time he visited, he paid a visit to Northland Bank, a Snezhnayan fixture tolerated only barely by the Qixing. It seemed like every year he would receive a request from the Liyue Qixing asking for his blessing to allow them to root out the foreign influence from their city for good. He always declined. It was the one place where the Tsaritsa would ever be seen outside of Snezhnaya. Morax had played host to a few parties when she visited, where firewater and rice wine flowed freely and brought enough Mora to the local merchants to keep them afloat for a month.

If Morax was allowed to have a favorite place, it would be Liyue Harbor. Most of all, he enjoyed walks along the Yuehai and Liuli Pavilions. Over six thousand years, there had been many changes in the vendors who occupied Liyue’s streets. It served to remind him of the fleeting nature of human lives and their achievements. It also reminded him of the longevity that humanity sometimes found when he considered how there were many families who stayed in Liyue harbor for generations stretching back to the Archon War. He could see their ancestors in their faces.

He could almost hear the other Archons teasing him for his nostalgia.

Morax turned his eyes to that now-familiar path. His eyebrows shot up in surprise at what he found. The halls of Khaenri’ah were empty of its diamond.

Panic blossomed in his chest, so potent and strange that it almost bowled him over.

Where was she? Did something happen?

He scoured the streets of Khaenri’ah with the force of an earthquake, then to the forests of Sumeru, the marshes and plains of Liyue, until the familiar weight of Lumine’s feet suddenly appeared, a mere stone’s throw from the nearby village. Indeed, each footstep brought her closer, closer to him. With her nearness, he could feel the thunder of her heartbeat, as if she had been sprinting all the way between Khaenri’ah and Liyue.

Had he been so blind that he hadn’t sensed her approach in the days and hours prior? Just that night before, her feet were firmly on Khaenri’ah’s soil.

Morax stood frozen, sensing her movement as she got closer. Closer, only to meander in the village at the base of Jueyun Karst. She would not approach the shrine or where Xiao was posted.

Perhaps, she lost her nerve? Or maybe this was just his own foolish hope that she would approach Jueyun Karst to speak with him and he was mistaken. Worse still, it could be an idle daydream, the trick of an age-addled mind.

An hour, two hours, nothing in the lifespan of a god, but an eternity all the same. Then, she started walking again, the same way she had come weeks earlier.

Now, he knew for sure: she was coming to see him.

For a moment, he was utterly paralyzed. He had thought about this every day since they had parted on the mountain. It haunted him, scenario after scenario: a warring princess with an army behind her, a willing sacrifice, a wounded doe begging for refuge.

He did not expect her to sneak up on him like this.

Morax strode out of his abode, stopping only for a moment in front of one of the many shiny crystals to check his reflection and make sure not a hair was out of place.

Xiao was ever at his post, leaning against an ancient willow right before the path narrowed. Lazily, he tossed bits of bread at a flock of emerald finches that paid him a visit.

Those birds scattered the instant Xiao turned around to face Morax.

“My lord, is something wrong?” he asked.

Morax smiled, not wishing to alarm him. “Nothing to worry about, my friend. The weather is particularly nice outside today, so I wished to take a stroll.”

A moment passed before Xiao stiffened, sensing Lumine’s approach. Morax merely shifted a little in place, not reaching for the polearm strapped to his back. That would be enough of a sign to Xiao to relax a little.

Finally, a shadow came around the bend in the road and Princess Lumine stepped into view.

The reason why she had paused at the village became apparent.

Her clothes were fresh—not marked by mud and travel. Her dress was pale grey and vibrant blue. She had her hair pinned back with shiny baubles and a touch of rouge danced on her lips. And, hanging from her throat, was the necklace he had gifted her.

She looked more like a sumptuous offering than she had before.

Morax kept his expression aloof while something tightened with affection in his chest. There was something delightful about her obvious surprise at his appearance, the way her mouth went slightly slack and her bright eyes widened. She was likely expecting to only meet Xiao at the entrance to Jueyun Karst, not the god himself.

“Lord Morax,” Lumine murmured with a curtsy. “Adeptus Xiao.”

Morax tried to memorize what he could of her. The necklace around her throat—the one that he had given her—glistened in the light. She looked like a goddess in her own right, one that truly belonged on a throne.

Something more primal stirred inside of him, growling ‘Mine’. She wore the necklace; she came to him under her own volition.

Xiao raised a brow. “A second visit so soon, Your Highness? We have not received Khaenri’ah’s royalty in 500 years and now we have received a second visit before the season’s turn?”

Morax shot him a withering glance, but Lumine smiled pleasantly.

“Of course. After being treated to such wonderful hospitality, I couldn’t stay away since I ended up in the area.”

It was a royal’s answer: not an answer at all. He could tell that there was more to why she was here that she would not speak in front of Xiao.

“Indeed?” Morax asked, tilting his head. “Any reason in particular?”

Lumine’s eyes scanned his face before murmuring, “I seek an audience with you, Lord Morax. I ask for nothing more.”

He smiled. “A social call? Of course, Princess.”

He offered his arm and Lumine approached, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. Her head barely reached his shoulder. He could easily tuck her into his robes and fully ensconce her in the cloth.

“I shall show you to my abode. We can speak there.”

Lumine stiffened next to him in surprise, just for a moment, before she relaxed. Perhaps, she was thinking that they would return to the same place where they had met.

Tempting, but he had other things in mind. While the primal part of him, the beast who thought only of breeding and want of a mate, wanted to just take her against the nearest tree, he wanted to cultivate this tiny sprout of a union as well as he could.

“I see,” she replied.

Lumine glanced behind her shoulder as they started up the mountain, only to take a barely-trodden path off into the trees. The trees closed behind them as they walked, obscuring them from the rest of the world.

“I don’t think he likes me,” Lumine muttered.

Morax laughed, though part of him noted to warn Xiao to be hospitable to Lumine if these visits were to become a habit. “He is just like that with anyone who isn’t an adeptus. He is just glad that you don’t have an entourage behind you.”

“Was he close to attacking the last time we were here? I had been sure that he was going to lop off Kaeya’s head when we first arrived.”

Morax was silent for a moment. Xiao had been waiting for the order to attack when the Princess and her party approached Jueyun Karst the first time. Without a doubt, if Morax had given the order, Xiao would have slaughtered them all with ease. Even the renowned battle prowess of Khaenri’ah’s princess would not have been a match for him.

“Not at all,” he said. It was the truth. He wouldn’t have attacked if Morax hadn’t given the order.

They stopped at a pair of doors hewn into the mountainside of Qingyun Peak. With a flick of his wrist, the doors creaked open and he led the Princess into his abode.

Light from a thousand crystals brightened the entire space.

Morax turned to Lumine, who looked spellbound. The golden light shone softly over her features, only elevating her divine beauty.

“Adeptal energy,” Morax explained simply, waving a hand at the translucent bridges that joined each of the platforms. He didn’t know how else to explain it, with all other words caught in his throat. Cloud Retainer would have chided him for letting the opportunity to extoll the adepti’s powers pass him by.

“Amazing,” she murmured.

Lumine was hardly paying attention to him. Her eyes swept over the towering trees and crystal formations before finally landing on the ancient-looking mansion at the center of the abode.

A gentle breeze ruffled her hair as she turned to look at him and words caught in Morax’s throat.

“Shall we?” Lumine said with a smile.

Brilliant. Incandescent. A part of him fell deeper for her.

Morax reached out his hand and she placed her hand in his. So delicate was her hand in his.

“Yes.”

He guided her into the mansion. It was a near-exact copy of a Liyue noble’s home: all glossy dark wood with large windows. Morax had his home decorated with intricate paintings that hung on the walls, each room furnished with silk-covered furniture and delicate pottery.

Lumine toed off her shoes and left them by the door, following his lead.

“I am sure you are tired from your journey from Khaenri’ah,” Morax said, feeling out the situation. He wanted her terribily, but if she needed rest, of course, he would give it to her.

“A bit. I flew most of the way here and walked when I got close to Jueyun Karst.”

Morax nodded. So, he could not sense her presence when she was flying. That was concerning, but he wasn’t going to speak on it. If he had his way, he would always be able to see where she was, to know she was okay.

“And when did you leave Khaenri’ah to come here?”

She paused, pursing her lips. “I had started flying since early this morning.”

Morax noted that it was the middle of the afternoon.

“You were able to cover a lot of ground very quickly. I cannot help but wonder why you did not fly and only walked during your first visit to Jueyun Karst.”

Lumine smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. “I needed to be able to keep my entourage close. That cannot happen if I was flying in the air.”

He hummed as she shrugged off her cloak. She set it over a nearby settee, so nonchalant and casual, as if she had claimed his abode for her own.

“Will you show me?” Morax asked.

Lumine blinked. “Show you what?”

“Your wings. I would like to see them.”

Lumine opened her mouth and shut it, clearly hesitating. She nodded before turning around. Morax licked his lips involuntarily at how the cut of the dress revealed so much of her bare back. There were the faintest marks of old scars, just barely catching the light.

Lumine rolled her shoulders and her wings materialized into the air, sprouting between her shoulder blades.

Morax reached out, only to pause. Even the thought of touching her felt like sacrilege. Rocks and dirt that would only suffocate her, no different than the chains that were her position in Khaenri’ah’s royalty. He and his kind, the Archons of Teyvat, would only crush her, one day.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Lumine muttered. Her entire frame had stiffened, as if she was embarrassed.

Morax stroked his fingers over the lines of her wings. The grey feathers felt soft and smooth. He was careful not to move any of the feathers out alignment.

In his mind, he counted each type of feather as his fingers passed over them: tertials, lesser converts, alula, primary converts.

She sighed under his ministrations, pressing her wings into his touch.

“It has been a long time since I have been allowed to stretch them out,” she murmured.

He smoothed his hands down the breadth of each wing.

“Why is that, sweet one?”

His eyes took in every twitch of her wings. The sounds of the feathers rustling against each other with each tiny movement created a small symphony.

“We wish to be seen as humble and not to lord our abilities over the people. The fact that we are not restricted by Visions in our use of the elements is enough to create envy. To be able to fly, well, is seen as a bit excessive.”

He pressed a kiss to where the base of the wing met her back.

“And they would clip your wings to assuage their insecurities,” he growled against her skin.

Of the living Archons, Morax’s opinion of Khaenri’ah was one of the milder ones. The small kingdom’s technology gave them enough power to rival the gods, giving those who were not granted Visions similar power. So long as they did not encroach or threaten harm on Liyue, he had little care of what their ambitions were.

There were others who would prefer that the errant nation-state be crushed underfoot. Sometimes, Morax found himself in that same camp.

Lumine shifted a little. “It’s not so bad. If it keeps me and Aether safe, I will play the Council’s little games.”

“You do not have to worry about such things here.”

Lumine flicked her wings and they disappeared.

She kept her back to him for a beat before she turned to face him. A blush dusted her cheeks and her mouth was red, as if she had been chewing on her lip while she was turned away from him.

Morax pulled her close, one arm around his waist and the other cupping her cheek. Her arms came up to loop around his neck.

He slanted his mouth over hers and sighed. She tasted like nectar, so sweet and addictive. She tasted like the first sip of water after wandering in a desert. He deepened the kiss, drinking in her gasps.

Lumine’s fingers played with the hairs at the nape of his neck, featherlight and gentle.

Morax was less gentle, maneuvering her to get the right angle to kiss her deeper, steal her breath away. He kissed and sucked and nibbled at her lips, so that anyone who looked at her would know what the Princess of Khaenri’ah had been up to.

She broke away from him after a few minutes. Her chest heaved from the exertion, her lips shiny and red.

He couldn’t help the rumbling growl that escaped him, especially when Lumine blushed at the sound.

She knelt before him, looking demurely up at him. Despite the kisses, she looked rather unruffled, which was something he was looking forward to fixing.

“I wish to express my gratitude, my lord, for the great service you have provided for Khaenri’ah,” she said, inching forward. Her hands came up to fist the soft silk of his robes, giving him every signal of what she wanted from him.

Morax smiled, feeling heat pool in his groin. He reached down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Very well, starlight. Carry on.”

He helped her undo the fastenings on his trousers and could not help the white-hot pride that curled in his gut when her eyes widened at the sight of his cock.

Lumine took him in hand, her hands small and cool against his heated flesh. He helplessly tilted his hips into the touch.

She leaned forward, lapping at the head before sinking down as far as her mouth could go.

He sighed shakily. There were very few still living in Teyvat who had seen the Geo Archon in such a state of vulnerability. Even then, it was only in the context of injury, or of mourning. Never in such an intimate situation.

Lumine hummed around him and he had to force himself not to thrust immediately into her mouth. Her hand soothed over his hip, as if to comfort him.

With shaking hands, he undid each of the baubles adorning her hair, casting every piece aside with little care, not flinching as the metal clattered against the stone floors. If they broke, he would make her another. He would make her a thousand little gems.

As soon as her hair was free, he collected it in his hand. Soft, a color so rare in Teyvat that it was no wonder that devotees of the King and Princess would call them Gold-Locked, Shining Ones, the envy of the sun and moon themselves.

She worked him over with finesse and made soft noises with every touch he made. His toes curled. Her mouth was perfect, tight and wet, with the barest trace of teeth scraping against his skin to send chills down his spine.

He gently pulled her off of him, unwilling to finish in her mouth. His cock bobbed obscenely as it left her mouth.

Lumine licked her lips as she settled back on her haunches, waiting for him. Morax cupped her chin and stroked his thumb over her lips. She pursed her lips, catching the tip of his thumb into her mouth and sucking.

“You will be the death of me,” he murmured.

He held out his hand to help her to her feet.

As soon as she was on her feet, he crushed her against him, claiming her mouth. He could taste himself on her mouth. She whined and her hands scrambled at his robes.

Morax picked her up with ease and her legs wrapped around his waist. Her core was hot against his abdomen, through the layers of cloth. He carried her to his sleeping quarters.

“I promised that I would bed you, did I not?” he said between kisses.

The thought had never crossed his mind before, but Morax found himself very grateful that his bed, which was not often used, was not in an embarrassing state. It was grand, covered in tidy silk sheets. The bedframe was sleek carved wood, inlaid with gemstones.

He deposited Lumine on the bed and she giggled when she bounced slightly.

Morax stood over her before he started to undress. His halfway undone pants went first. The cloak followed, then he undid the buttons of his shirt.

Hawklike eyes watched his every move, every bit of skin that he revealed. Morax was never a self-conscious creature, but the way that she looked at him, full of unconcealed desire, was an ego boost of the highest order.

“Lucky me,” Lumine murmured as soon as Morax was naked in front of her.

Morax swept down to devour her mouth. She mewled and sighed against his kisses. Her hands stroked up his sides and down his abdomen.

Morax pulled back and undressed Lumine, uncaring if buttons popped or if seams ripped. It was as if she was a wrapped present, pretty and enticing, and he was an excited child, uncaring of the dressings and only focused on what was underneath.

As soon as Lumine was bare, he cupped a hand over her cunt. She was already wet and he easily slipped a finger into her opening.

Lumine sighed. She kissed him languidly and her hands explored wherever she could reach. She lingered over the parts of him that were stained mahogany and gold, the parts of him that were enlightened beast.

He pressed a second finger in and rubbed her clit with his thumb. Lumine whimpered against his mouth.

Morax scissored his fingers and pressed in a third. Her body trembled at the stretch, perhaps a whisper of pain. He had to make sure that she was ready for him.

He mouthed at her throat. Her pulse fluttered under his lips and a primal urge to bite and consume.

Her hands found his horns, keeping his lips close to her skin. With his thumb still rubbing gentle circles, he removed his fingers.

“Morax,” she cried.

Lumine’s legs tightened around his waist, insistent. He rocked his hips and his length slid against the apex of her thighs.

“Fuck me, please,” she begged.

He obeyed. He lined himself up with her opening and thrusted inside.

A rumbling moan escaped him. Her warmth surrounded him to the hilt and set his blood aflame. He had missed this. He missed it like his next breath of air.

“Lumine. My princess.”

He grasped under her knees and bore over her, almost folding her in half. Lumine threw back her head and moaned in ecstasy when he seemed to go even deeper inside of her. From there, Morax set the pace, fast and deep.

Part of him wanted to turn her onto her hands and knees and fuck her like they were mere beasts.

Later. That could come later.

Lumine’s hands were hot like brands where she grasped him. Every sound she made was like music to his ears.

Morax covered her breasts with kisses and teased her nipples to stiff peaks. Lumine seemed to really enjoy that. Her fingers combed through his hair every time he did so. He filed that little bit of information away for later.

He adjusted his grip on her and Lumine jerked with an incoherent sound.

“L—like that. Oh, gods, just like that.”

She sobbed before she tightened around him. She chanted his name like a fervent prayer when he hit that spot inside of her and the pressure against her clit was just right.

Morax fucked her through her release and chased his own. This time, it wasn’t to seal a contract between leaders. He wanted her to see every moment of his passion for her.

“Imagine my seed quickening in your womb,” he gasped.

Her abdomen was slightly distended from his girth. His mind leapt to her belly full with child, splayed over his lap. He would have to be gentle then, but he knew she was not easily breakable.

The image alone was enough to bring him over the edge.

Morax growled as pleasure washed over him. Again and again, until his release flooded out of him. He pumped his hips into her, the obscene sound of skin against skin, wishing that she could catch every drop.

When he pulled out, Lumine gasped.

Morax eased himself back. His hands held her open so he could see his seed spilled between her legs. He ran his fingers in the mess and pushed what he could back into her.

Lumine mewled and shivered at his ministrations.

“Please,” she gasped.

“Please, what?” he replied, pumping his fingers in and out of her.

Much to Morax’s delight, she couldn’t respond. He pressed his free hand to her hip, keeping her in place as he kept up a brutal pace. His fingers curled. Her mouth hung open in a choked-off scream as her inner walls tightened around his fingers. It wasn’t until she pawed at him that he slowed to a stop.

Lumine sagged bonelessly into the pillows as he gently removed his fingers and wiped them on the side of the bed.

Morax forced himself to his feet, hushing at Lumine’s soft whine of protest.

She watched him, sloe-eyed, as he puttered about his chambers.

Morax grabbed a bowl of warm water and a soft cloth from the adjacent washroom. His eyes lingered on the large stone bath in the middle of the room. For a moment, the image of Lumine, naked and lounging in the steamy water, flashed in his mind.

He shook his head, forcing the image and the arousal that came with it out of his mind. He could propose something like that later.

When he returned, Lumine had moved further up the bed so she lounged against the pillows.

“Did you clean me the first time when we were together?” she asked when her eyes fell on the bowl in his hands.

He blushed. He thought about the aftermath of their first contract as much as the coupling itself. Lumine had passed out from exhaustion with the force of Morax’s fucking and the magic that came with it.

She had been a mess of sweat and cum, and Morax made a point to clean and clothe her before she awoke. He had taken his time, each touch lingering, savoring it. It wasn’t a requirement of the contract, simply something that he wanted to do.

Surely, she wouldn’t have returned to him if he had left her in a disheveled state, naked and exposed, while she slept?

“I did and it would be my honor to do it again.”

“Very gentlemanly of you.”

She opened her legs obediently when he got close and hummed as he cleaned the mess that he left. He pressed a kiss to her inner thigh once he was done.

He tucked her under the covers.

“Would you like something to eat? You have had a long journey here.”

Lumine pursed her lips. “Some tea would be nice. Maybe some soup?”

Morax threw on a dressing gown to at least cover his modesty.

“I will not be long.”

Lumine smiled and burrowed herself further under the covers.

Morax went to the kitchens and set about making some soup. Good food was one of his favorite indulgences and he couldn’t wait to share it with her. In a happy coincidence, he had a pot of bamboo and pork soup simmering on the stove.

Cloud Retainer had repossessed her favorite cooking pot, so he had to make it the old-fashioned way.

He found one of his nicest bowls, porcelain with gold lacquer, and ladled in a healthy portion. That, a few pork buns, and a pot of tea.

Morax carried it all on a tray back to the bedroom. He nudged the door open with his foot.

A trill sounded behind him and a blur of gold and brown rushed into the room. Guizhong jumped into Lumine’s lap and nuzzled against her chest.

Lumine cooed as she held Guizhong close and pressed her face into her soft fur.

“She’s sweet.”

Morax watched them with a smile. Once again, that soft and vulnerable feeling clutched at his heart.

“I found her after a landslide had taken down the side of a mountain in Jueyun Karst. She is the first earth dragon that I have seen in the last six thousand years.”

Lumine was quiet for a moment before saying, “Guizhong is also the name of the God of Dust, correct?”

Morax inhaled gustily through his nose before letting it out. He didn’t like to think about the true Guizhong, long gone. The dragon carried the same affectionate temperament as the God of Dust, but the resemblances ended there.

“Yes. I suppose I named the dragon to honor her in a way.”

“She was your friend. I had—I had read stories of her miracles and your friendship with her.”

Morax reddened. Of course, he shouldn’t have been so foolish to think that she wouldn’t investigate the stories and songs that surrounded him and Liyue.

“This was almost six thousand years ago. I have even forgotten what her face looked like.”

It wasn’t quite the truth. Guizhong and his unrequited love for her were both very much present in his memories, though hazy and dull. Of all the dead gods that had been strewn across Teyvat, she was the only one that he held close to his heart.

“Will you tell me more about her someday? It doesn’t have to be today.”

He sighed, wishing that he would be able to just drop the topic. It was like picking at a scab that had just formed. While the tomes and scrolls of old had some grains of truth, most of them were fantasy.

“Very well.”

Guizhong curled up in her lap and kneaded her claws into the plush bedspread. Lumine murmured more praise and pressed a kiss to the dragon’s head.

“And what of you, my starlight? Surely a woman as well-traveled, more well-traveled than anyone in all of Teyvat, have plenty of stories to tell.”

The hand petting Guizhong stuttered to a halt and tightened to a fist. Morax’s gaze lingered over those digits, before returning to her face.

Lumine frowned and muttered. “There isn’t much to talk about. My memory from before our arrival in Teyvat…it is completely gone. Aether isn’t sure what had happened, or he won’t tell me. I only remember things from when I awoke in Teyvat.”

Her shoulders were stiff, as if she was preparing for an admonishment. Morax sat down on the bed and set the tray of food on the nearby nightstand. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Tell me, starling.”

It came in fits and bursts. She talked about Kaeya, the Cryo vision holder, his propensity for alcohol and breaking hearts across Teyvat.

She talked about Dainsleif, who did not carry a Vision of his own but he learned much from his time spying on the Abyss—Morax filed that little bit of information away for later—to increase his own battle prowess.

When the topic turned to her own story, Morax could see her shrink away a little. She busied herself with eating, to avoid having to speak, to give her more time to organize her thoughts.

She had no memory of her family outside of her brother, her travels before falling to Teyvat a blur.

He knew some of the story of the twins’ arrival: two beings falling from the sky, one awake, the other trapped by a strange slumber. Aether mobilized the people of Khaenri’ah and was crowned their king, ushering the construction of the city-state that it was today. Morax couldn’t help but wonder how things would have been different if Lumine had been the one to arrive in Teyvat fully awake, ascending as Queen while her brother was anointed as prince when he had awoken.

“Sometimes, I feel like it would have been easier if we had just been split apart between worlds, so he wouldn’t have to deal with this. We had always been together, as equals, side by side, but now we are not.”

Lumine paused. She scraped her spoon against the empty bowl, just to keep her hands occupied.

“I know he doesn’t need me. He has never needed me. He was able to do fine without me for over 400 years while I was asleep. I must do something for myself, but I am just not sure what that is. Traveling to the stars with my brother was the only thing that made me happy.”

Lumine seemed to wilt like a flower robbed of sunlight. Morax gently kissed her forehead, trying to chase that melancholy away.

She belonged in his bed. Even more, by his side, ruling over Liyue with a gentle and wise hand. He knew that to be certain.

His mind spun to even greater fantasy: little children with birds’ wings and dragons’ horns, clinging to their mother’s legs. She could soar among the mountaintops, unchained by that accursed Council. Not even the Tsaritsa would dare harm her.

“What do I have to do to get you to stay?” he murmured.

Lumine stared at him, blinking as if she couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.

“You would have me?” she replied softly.

“I would have you any and every way you would let me.”

Lumine blushed and flopped back onto the bed, turning her head into the pillow to hide her face.

“Tempting offer,” she murmured.

Morax refused to be discouraged. “At least, stay the night.”

Lumine turned over onto her back and wiggled further into the blankets. “I will, though I fear the innkeeper will talk if I do not return in the evening.”

“Mr. Zhu?”

“I believe that’s what his name was, yes.”

Morax mused aloud, “He is a pious and virtuous individual. He would not gossip.”

At least, Morax would make sure to take away any incentive of him to gossip. Perhaps, a heaping bag of Mora and a cask of fine ale.

Lumine cocked her head. “You speak as if you know him.”

Morax smiled thinly. She must really have a poor opinion of the Archons and their devotions to their peoples. While some of the other Archons were a bit more hands-off, Morax was not one of them.

“I know all the families in the village. Many of them have lived here for generations. Indeed, Mr. Zhu inherited his inn from his father, who inherited from his grandmother. On and on.”

She made a noise of agreement and patted the space in the bed next to her.

“Fine, you have me convinced, but I want you to join me.”

“I do not need sleep.”

Lumine pouted. “Well, it is hardly fair that I must sleep while you get to stare at me all night. Will you at least try to sleep by my side?”

Morax sighed before easing himself beside her. The intimacy of the act was not lost on him.

The sprout was taking root, burrowing deep into the earth, not easily undone.

“As you wish, my princess.”

Lumine giggled and turned to press her face against his chest. He could see the bruises darkening on her throat and shoulders.

“‘My princess.’ I like the sound of that,” she mused.

She slept mere minutes later. After watching her, glutting himself on her lax and peaceful expression, he forced himself to join her in slumber.

The Geo Archon didn’t dream, never had. For a moment, he pretended that he could, that he would see Lumine in his dreams as well.

Morax awoke to the sounds of Lumine’s gentle, rhythmic breathing. She was curled on her side, tucked against him.

For thousands of years, Morax was never one to linger in bed, even when crippled by weakness or injury. Now, he saw the appeal of lounging with a lover late into the morning. He brushed his fingers over her hair before hesitantly slipping out of the bed.

He walked to the kitchen, determined to surprise Lumine when she awoke. He grabbed some bacon and eggs, along with some flour and other ingredients for teacakes.

Morax made a point of keeping a stocked larder, full of dried fruit and cured meat, along with a rotating supply of fresh food.

In centuries past, during the Archon War and before, when Abyssal forces ran amok, gods—now long-gone—would hold their devotees in their abodes. Despite the altruism, there was never enough food and those devotees would eventually be starved out, forced to step into the hostile land to find food and eventually be destroyed.

Morax would not allow something like that to happen, at least not to the village at the base of the mountains. He had enough food there to feed all of them for a month if necessary, allowing enough time for them to organize an escape route to Sumeru or another friendly nation who would take them as refugees.

He had his many contracts: with the Archons, with the Qixing, with Liyue itself. He would keep all of them. If war were to return to Liyue, he would save as many people as he could, even at the cost of his own life.

He shook his head, dispelling the maudlin thoughts. Hardly things to entertain when there was a beautiful princess lounging in one’s bed.

Morax went to work, frying eggs and bacon in one pan while he mixed teacake batter in a bowl.

He could be called many things. One thing he was not was an ungracious host. So, he put his best effort into it.

The bacon was fried into crispy perfection, the fried eggs with set whites and yolks cooked just a bare touch.

His first teacake was a blistered mess, which he promptly set aside. The rest he took care, ladling the batter into the pan, watching and waiting before flipping, making sure both sides were a delicate golden brown.

A little cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon from Natlan on top of the teacakes and he was satisfied with his work.

He carried the tray to his bedroom, where Lumine was already awake, lounging against the pillows. She had found one of his loose-fitting shirts and donned it. There was something incredibly appealing about seeing her in his clothes.

He set a plate of teacakes and fried eggs in front of her. She blinked blearily at him and murmured her thanks, before tucking into the food. She thanked him behind a mouthful of teacakes.

“Do you do your own cooking?”

“I do. Did you think I had servants doing it for me?”

Lumine giggled. “Well, neither Makoto nor Ei know how to cook at all and Venti seems to subsist on alcohol. Part of me couldn’t help but wonder if Archons were just incapable of cooking.”

Morax cocked his head, noting that she referred to the Electro and Anemo Archons in such casual tones. Only Barbatos’s closest friends referred to him as Venti, and even then that was a rare endearment.

“What of Focalors? Her cooking is extraordinary.”

Lumine paused, taking time to stick a piece of bacon into the runny yoke of the fried egg.

“Focalors, well, I never met her. Never had the chance to go to Fontaine. I think the Council is worried that I’d step out of line on accident and end up in prison. It is unfortunate, as I hear the food is exquisite. Endless shrimp and crabs and every kind of fish. What’s with the face?”

Morax realized that his expression settled to a grimace at the mention of Fontaine’s cuisine.

“You won’t see a piece of seafood in this place,” Morax muttered.

Lumine smiled. “Really? Why is that?”

“Let’s just say that it doesn’t agree with me. Even the smell turns my stomach.”

“Hm.”

Morax didn’t know how much she had read into his past, if she knew about the ancient battles between him and Osial. It, like his past friendship with Guizhong, was not something that he wanted to dredge up at breakfast.

When she was finished eating, she got dressed in one of his robes and he gave her a tour of his abode.

They visited the library first. It was one of the rooms that saw the most use, aside from his office. Bookshelves covered most of the walls. Paintings of Liyue’s legends covered whatever was left.

“It’s a pale imitation of the Akademiya in Sumeru, but it suits my needs.”

Lumine didn’t seem to hear him. She stepped forward towards the nearest shelf and touched the spines of the books lined there.

“Amazing. You never cease to impress.”

She pulled out one of the books and opened it. For a moment, she was silent as she perused.

“This looks like Abyssal writings,” she said.

It was a simple sentence, nothing accusatory. He didn’t need to ask why she would mention it. Khaenri’ah sat on the remnants of the Abyss, won by a century-long war that King Aether had led with great personal cost that had only been rumored about.

Morax shrugged. “I have an eclectic collection. You will find works from all over Teyvat.”

Lumine nodded before closing the book and setting it back in its place.

He took his time, describing the art and architecture as they passed. Lumine listened with interest, interjecting when she was familiar with a certain piece.

Her excitement only grew once they were outside the mansion.

Now this, this was Morax’s favorite part of his abode.

With adeptal energy stretched to its limits, he was able to fill the space with spiraling stones, trees and flowers of every shade.

“Your abode is most splendid, my dragon,” she said.

A possessive growl rumbled in his chest at the endearment. Her dragon. He liked that very much. Lumine blushed.

Soon, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. At one point, Morax sat on a bench in the middle of the garden, breathless from kisses. Lumine clamored on top of him, pulled her underwear aside, and sank down on his erection. She rode him on that stone bench, surging like the tide over him.

When they returned to the mansion, they retraced their steps back to the library. He took her against the wall, next to the shelves of archaeology books. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her arms clutched at his shoulders for support. She moaned wantonly as he sucked marks into her throat.

His eyes drank her in greedily while they shared supper in the dining room. The marks he made were darkening slowly to purple-red bruises, like splashes of spilled wine.

“How do you like Teyvat?” Morax asked after a period of quiet.

Lumine jumped a little at the question. “I, uh, well, I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that question.”

She paused. She ran a finger along the condensation of her drinking cup. Instead of tea, he brought out a bottle of chilled sweet wine, though a fine pot of jasmine tea awaited them.

“It was a difficult transition, since I was asleep for so long. My brother has always been the leader, the more charismatic of the two of us. He had overtaken me in almost all things by the time I had awoken.”

“I don’t know if I can believe that. You seem to have friends all over the world.”

Lumine was clearly not convinced, if the way that her hands tightened around her pair of chopsticks. “That is only because I’ve done something for them. My brother could not lift a finger and would still make friends. Why else would he have succeeded as king? The Council dotes on him. The armies obey his every word.”

Morax frowned.

“The Archons of Sumeru and Mondstadt count you as friends. I would hazard a guess that Makoto and Ei of Inazuma are on friendly terms with you as well. When I break bread with them and the conversation turns to Khaenri’ah, they speak of you, not of your brother.”

She sighed, glancing away. After a moment, her tense shoulders sagged a little and she admitted, “They were very kind to me the last time I was in Inazuma. Makoto took me to the cutest little zoo attached to Tenshukaku. They had Sumpter Beasts from Sumeru, both the desert and forest species and an aviary filled with so many birds. It was lovely.

“It would be nice to return, but the Council has effective forbade me, since it takes me so far away from Khaenri’ah. I would have to sneak away, like a criminal, if I wanted to go back.”

There was something so dejected in her expression that something irrational bloomed in Morax’s heart. He wanted to chase that feeling from her, so that it could never take root again.

Before he could stop himself, he said, “I would like to enter into a contract with you.”

Lumine echoed dimly, “A contract?”

The tension bloomed in his chest, threatening to suffocate him. This was it.

“I wish to enter in the contract of matrimony.”

Lumine turned to fully look at him, shock settling in with her understanding.

“Marriage? You want to marry me?”

“Yes, if you wouldn’t be opposed to such a thing.”

She stared at him, mouth flapping open and closed. Morax floundered a little on the inside, wondering if he had overstepped and destroyed whatever fledgling thing that they had between them.

If she could be his lover, he wouldn’t have minded. The selfish part of him, the part of him corrupted by millennia of loneliness, roared in protest at the thought of negotiation.

“Morax, you know what you are asking of me? My brother does not share in my opinions of the Seven. He would not sanction a marriage between his sister and an Archon. To be honest, he detests all of you.”

Morax hid a frown by leaning forward and kissing the crown of her head. The king’s feelings were not a secret. In fact, they were a frequent topic of conversation among the Archons—whether his hatred for them would change to outright violence against the Seven.

“Would he put aside his feelings for the good of his kingdom?”

Lumine sighed, “If he feels the terms are worth it. He was grateful for your curing the ills in our land, so that would at least that may soften his heart a little.”

“Liyue and Khaenri’ah are neighbors. Such an agreement would be beneficial for both parties. I would make it so. And in our marriage, your enemies would be my enemies. My enemies would be your enemies.”

Lumine visibly shrank a little in her chair.

“And if my enemies become your fellow Archons? If my brother becomes your enemy?” she rasped.

His brow tightened. The bloody screams and crash of metal filled his ears for a heartbeat. “It would not come to that. My contract with you will not interfere with a contract that will form between me and your brother or between me and the other Archons.”

He reached out and gripped her chin, gently strumming his finger over her lower lip. He had thrown a gauntlet between them, and they were slowly making their way through it. He could only hope that it would not drive her away.

“Fear not, my starling.”

Lumine pulled away gently. Her eyes drifted in thought.

“We have met only twice, though, I suppose marriages have been built on less. I’m sure that the Council would have me marry someone in the upper castes to get me out of my brother’s court.”

Morax schooled his expression before he could allow the wave of sudden jealousy well up. He didn’t want to even entertain the idea of Lumine in the arms of another, especially not ones that would only smother her light.

Lumine looked down at her hands for a moment, fidgeting.

“You had mentioned that I would not be able to conceive a child with you unless we were married. Is this why you are proposing this?” she asked, looking up to carefully watch his face.

Morax felt his stomach plummet as he looked over her face, trying to find a hint of disgust at the prospect of bearing a beast’s offspring. To his relief, he found none, only genuine curiosity.

“The concept of heirs had been on my mind, yes. Greater Lord Rukkhadevata has her daughter. The Raiden Shogun has her twin sister. I cannot deny the wisdom of having a clear line of succession. I have lived for a long time, Princess Lumine. I am the eldest among the Seven. Even bedrock can be ground to dust, and I cannot allow for Liyue to fall rudderless.”

Lumine bit her lip and he could see her mind turning over the proposition.

He leaned forward. “You get your freedom from Khaenri’ah’s Council. While you will be tied up in some ceremonial aspects of being an Archon’s wife, your life will be yours. If you wish to travel, you can travel under Liyue’s banner to every corner of Teyvat.”

That seemed to be the right thing to say, as she visibly brightened.

“You promise?” she asked.

“I vow it.”

She kissed his knuckles.

After a silence, Lumine said, “If you come to Khaenri’ah and propose in my brother’s presence, I will accept your hand in marriage.”

He made to rise from his chair. Joy and victory threatened to burst him apart. “Then, we shall go now.”

Her hand tightened and the fear that bloomed across her face gave him pause. “You cannot, Morax. They will think that you are manipulating me, holding me hostage, if we came together. You must wait at least a week.”

Morax suppressed a growl and instead pressed her close to his chest. He hated the thought of being anywhere apart from her. Not with Khaenri’ah’s Council, not with the Archons, all raring to clip her wings and crush her underfoot.

He could protect her. It was selfish of him, as his mind spun into future scenarios. The rest of Khaenri’ah and everything she loved could be ground to dust, but if she lived, that was what mattered. He would supplicate himself, if for a moment, to get what he desired.

He was the God of Contracts after all. He would be able to spin an agreement that would be of greatest benefit to him. And her.

“Very well, my starling. I will do as you say.”

“At least, take some food with you for your journey.”

They stood halfway down the mountain, hand in hand. Lumine had donned her clothes, hiding where Morax had damaged them with some well-placed pins.

She shook her head at his request.

“No need, my dragon. The food we shared will sustain me just fine.”

Morax did not press it, knowing that it would be a transparent attempt for him to steal more time with her if he did.

“I will see you soon,” he said.

Lumine nodded before jumping onto the tips of her toes and sealed her mouth over his.

She stepped back, away from his grasping arms, before he could catch her again and make her stay.

She took off into the night and he watched until she disappeared behind the tops of the trees. After mere moments, he could feel her weight upon the earth, speaking to Mr. Zhu and giving her regards, before taking off again.

Morax returned to his abode. The loneliness returned once more, but the urge to create a hollow copy to fill the void was not there.

She would be back, this time on his arm, as a bride.