While the Windblume Festival is in full swing in the city, Venti finds Deaconess Barbara up on Starsnatch Cliff.
Originally posted on AO3, linked here!
In Mondstadt, the Windblume Festival's activities were on in full swing: from the church to the Adventurer's Guild, the civilians were celebrating by giving gifts to their loved ones, professing their feelings to one another, or in the case of several bardic, musically talented persons...
...up on Starsnatch Cliff, away from the festivities in Mondstadt City.
Needless to say, when Venti reached the tip of the mountain overlooking the rest of Mondstadt, seeing someone already up there was perhaps one of the more surprising things he'd witnessed in the day, followed by the traveler trying to get close to him after an eventful day at the Cat's Tail. Even Vind, who Venti could typically find at the top of Stormbearer Point, was in the city on a rare day of relaxation.
"Ah, I hadn't realized someone already beat me to the punch up here," he acknowledged the lady's presence as he stepped up on a stable, grassy foothold. "I do wonder—our dearest Deaconess—shouldn't you be merrily enjoying the festival?"
"Oh," she responded, turning around. The pale, blonde colour of her curly pigtails and the hand shielding a part of her face couldn't hide the forced smile Venti could feel emanating from her as he put on his own. A practiced one, devoid of all the horrors he'd seen in his time as a god. The deaconess looked back at him. He wasn't wearing his beret, so it was just the tufts of his hair swaying gently in the wind's high embrace. "It's you, Venti."
"Hello hello~!"
"Hello," Barbara said back to him. It was a soft kind of sound, the one a weary musician would make after having played at an event for six hours straight, and at that point, Venti was quite sure that if he left now, the deaconess would follow him right after to try to tell him something. But he didn't want to appear like he'd caught her doing something wrong—a tired person just wanted to rest, after all—and so he took out his lyre, making sure she could see it before he sat down next to her. His proximity was just close enough that she'd be able to lean on his shoulder if she wanted to, but far enough for Barbara to maintain her personal space.
But even as he did so, as soon as he got comfortable, he could sense her moving, just slightly. Her flinching with the hems of her dress, and her hands firming up to stand.
"Deaconess," Venti said to her as she stood up, "you don't have to do that if you want to avoid my questions."
"Huh? No, I'm not..." Barbara hesitated, and Venti strummed his lyre. A calm, soothing melody to go with the wind. Barbara tensed up, but she soon relaxed her grip on her outfit. "Well, I guess... I am avoiding the festival, and I shouldn't be," she sighed. "So I'll be heading back. I hope I wasn't bothering you." She made a turn to leave, walking a few steps before a snowballing gust of wind gathered against her direction. Pushed back by its force, Barbara found herself circling back to the spot she'd just left. Venti's vision was glowing.
"You know... we're friends, aren't we?" the bard looked up at her eyes, trying to gauge her emotions. This wasn't the Barbara he typically saw, and sometimes, in order for someone to feel free to express themselves... the right kind of encouragement was needed. And he hoped to be the one to initiate that sense of uplifting.
"O-of course we are!" Barbara said immediately. "I have nothing against you, Venti. But you're right; everyone's probably waiting for me down there. Master Jean, the traveler... even Sister Rosaria, too. I can't just disappear on them like that."
"But you've been here the whole day," Venti interjected, "haven't you?"
"Well..."
"Getting here on foot isn't something just anyone could accomplish within an hour," he reasoned, "and it's midday now. I can't imagine that you'd have made such an impulsive decision like this out of the blue—even if there was a starving child all the way up here, hehe."
"Venti..."
"If you truly don't want me to be here, I could always play my tunes elsewhere," the bard's cheerful attitude shined again. "But as your friend... won't you let me listen to why you'd do such a thing in the first place?"
Barbara sighed again. Starsnatch Cliff.. it was much windier here than in the city, and they were so out of range of anywhere else that... perhaps it'd be okay to drop the pretenses for a bit. She'd originally become friends with Venti because of their musical connection, but it'd been a long time since then. Venti was no creep or part of her fan club—just a bard she'd done duets with before, who was also allergic to cats, and...
"Okay," she replied. She sat back down next to him, and he gave her a reassuring look before switching up the tunes for something a bit more airy.
"You don't have to say much if you don't want to. But I want you to shine again," he encouraged her, "so say just enough to dance to the sounds of life, yet not rise up to the skies beyond, dearest Deaconess~."
Despite her initial demeanor, she couldn't help but bring a smile to her face at his comments. "If you mean you want to make my worries into songs... that wouldn't be too bad," she admitted.
"Hmm~."
"Whenever I head into the city... I'm constantly reminded of my sister's accomplishments," the deaconess mumbled. With the wind bringing forth her confessions into the skies, it gave her the confidence to tell more to it—to the Anemo Archon high above. Perhaps such intimate moments would've been better to say inside the church, but the other Sisters looked up to her, too. No matter how much she could heal their worries and become a light for them, she couldn't get rid of the way the citizens looked up at the Acting Grandmaster in a similar—if not more respected—light. Barbara hugged her own arms, thinking about that aspect. "I'm... in her shadow."
For the Anemo Archon, hearing the plights of his subjects wasn't anything new to him. Those who went to the Favonius Church and devoted their time to him he could definitely hear better, but all prayers were voices he could hear, regardless of distance. However, there was always something about hearing someone's words in the flesh, face-to-face, that moved him so.
He glanced over at her pigtails. Small, curly, and flowing in the wind like a shooting star fixed in place.
"Her shadow?" Venti thought out loud. "You say that, even though you're much higher than in her shadow."
"I know... there's so much I can do that she can't," Barbara mumbled. "My fan club... exists for a reason. We're different in every sense of the word."
The bard tilted his head from side to side. She wasn't wrong; whereas Jean was part of the Favonius Knights, Barbara was a Sister part of the Favonius Church. The church was located geographically higher than anywhere else in Mondstadt City, whilst the Knights's HQ was much closer to the citizens. He could go on and on about their differences.
Venti stopped playing. It was the first thing Barbara noticed before he took off his cape and placed it over her bare shoulders.
"You'll feel chills up here," he smiled at her. "We're at the highest point overlooking the city, you know~."
"Oh. Thank you," Barbara said. Venti's cloak was still warm at the shoulders, and the greenery of it all felt oddly comforting to the touch. In fact, the wind felt like it was dying down...
When she looked over at Venti, the tips of his braids were glowing, along with the Vision attached to his belt. He began playing his lyre again, eyes closed, and Barbara could feel the air still around them.
No, that wasn't the word—the wind heading in their direction was being blocked. She could vaguely sense a sphere of wind around them, but inside the area they were, it was calm.
"Ah, looks like you've noticed," Venti said sheepishly as the deaconess's eyes wandered. At the sound of his voice, she looked at Venti again, who opened his eyes slowly. They were glowing now, and she could sense it was infused with Anemo.
"Venti... are you... controlling the wind?"
"You wouldn't want anyone else to overhear this, right?"
"So then..."
"A wind barrier. That's all this is," he gestured to a nearly-opaque wind gust surrounding them. "Anything you want to say—I promise I'll not tarnish them." Venti then added a perhaps ironic, yet in no way boastful, line to this: "It may be the Windblume Festival, but here, between us—you're the only Windblume Star here. But you won't need to make any sacrifices in this small moment of Windblume. Your hopes, your worries, your devotion to Barbatos—you can express it all freely, Barbara. I'm here for you."
Barbara looked up at him. Venti wasn't talking to her as a bard, a entertainer, a drunk or a friend right now.
Right now, he was a confidant, and her lips trembled.
Was it truly okay to divulge thoughts she wouldn't even tell Lord Barbatos? Even within the church, she wouldn't dare to...
...yet with Venti, she felt secure. Perhaps it was the wind barrier he'd enacted, or even the way he could nonchalantly give her his cloak like that. The feeling of it was still warming her up, slowly.
It'll be okay, she knew.
And then, she began to speak.
