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tomaytow · 2 years

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and the birds will sing and wedding bells will ring

— afab reader, fairy tale retelling (kinda), cursing, self–indulgent

in which: all fairy tales (apparently) happen in mondstadt.

Once upon a time, in the city of song and wind, a woman, not older than 30 and definitely not younger than 20, sighs at her desk frustratingly.

She drums her fingers over the paperwork. [Name] lifts her head to examine the beautiful girl in front of her – she has a crown perched on top of her combed hair (she’s definitely one of those princesses), she has skin white as the clouds outside (she wonders what her skincare routine is), and she has lips a stunning shade of red (where’d she get that lipstick?). Right now, said beautiful girl is sitting in front of [Name]’s desk, and has her fingers intertwined together in concern. Wow, even though her eyebrows are scrunched, she still looks pretty.

How unfair.

“So let me get this straight,” [Name] starts as she checks the details of the commission again, before turning back to the prettier girl. Yep. It’s definitely not the time for [Name] to deprecate herself. Definitely not the time to compare her haggard appearance over a ten. What’s important is that she doesn’t stutter or slur her words or else there will be miscommunications. She needs to be professional, after all. “You have a, uh, a friend—”

“A very, very nice friend—”

“Who’s stuck inside a lair—”

“Inside Stormterror’s Lair, no less—!”

“And I’ll have to save them through—”

“A kiss! A true love’s kiss,” The girl finishes for her, and [Name] narrows her eyelids. She’s supposed to do the talking here but unfortunately Miss Drop Dead Gorgeous won’t shut up. Well, understandable – the girl’s commission has been way overdue due to the endless commissions flooding their way. And yep, it’s definitely the reason why [Name]’s stressed 24/7. “And only you can save my friend. With a true love’s kiss!”

Of course, this is nothing new in [Name]’s field of work. She’s fought a crazy wolf dressed up as a grandma before, or even a powerful sorcerer over the custody of a lamp, so this may be a piece of cake. Though, she can’t help but think how familiar this is.

“Riiiiight,” She stamps the paper and shoves it to the left – where other messy folders and binders are scattered. There are still more commissions that she has to do, and it’s not going to be finished soon. Good archons. “What did you say your name was again?”

“Snow White,” the pretty girl answers, and now it’s all making sense. “Princess Snow White, and please, help my friend, please—”

She’s starting to wail. [Name] watches in astonishment when birds suddenly approach her. Are they comforting her? Wait, where did the rabbits even come from? Goats?! Turtles?!

“It’s been weeks now, and I–I’m worried! Please, oh please! Save my friend!”

“Alright, alright, alright! Please tell your squirrel pals to lay off my drawers!”

In this line of work, anything can be possible.

In Mondstadt, where literally every mythical creature resides, magic is abundant. There are a thousand tales waiting to be told, but also a thousand requests to be done.

[Name] didn’t plan on working in Ms. Lisa’s business. Even more so, she did not ask to be one of the heroic saviors; she doesn’t know what to feel anymore whenever she visits the taverns lately, when the majority of the drunk men chant the adventures of the Unparalleled Knight with the bards. At first, [Name] thought how nice the tunes were, until the lyrics slowly sank in and she realized that the song was all about her.

It was embarrassing.

But at least the pay is good – it’s enough to feed her Sweet Madames every night. Not to mention how she has connections now! Like Dorothy and her dog. Rapunzel and her strange chameleon. (Also, Rapunzel paints with the notorious Calx on Dragonspine. [Name] loves visiting their annual art exhibitions.)

And yet, she can’t help but admit how sometimes annoying the clients are. It’s their fate; they can control it, they can fight it, they can beat destiny up and write their own story. Why does [Name] have to be involved with their issues?

“It’s fun,” her boss, Ms. Lisa, had said one time, when she was sipping her usual cup of tea. There were books all over the floor and [Name] was in so much fear. She wouldn’t be coming home tonight like she had planned because she knew that Ms. Lisa would leave all the cleaning to her. “Aren’t you glad that you’re given a chance on venturing into the unknown with this job?”

[Name] was glad. But it was draining, when she couldn’t even take a fucking break.

“Cutie, you just need someone to accompany you. Or rather, you should acquire your own happily ever after soon!” Ms. Lisa winked, and sent her a finger gun, as if she was shooting bullets right through her heart. [Name] blocked it with a nearby book. “Though dearest Jean doesn’t recommend a significant other, I’ll be giving you a pass.”

[Name] doesn’t recommend having a “lover” either. It’s a waste of time, and it will definitely distract her. She appreciates Ms. Lisa’s treatment of her, but what she needs is a week off. Not… happily ever afters. They sound stupid, and even if [Name] wants to yell that she doesn’t believe in that junk, she can’t—because it’s literally everywhere.

Fucking princesses and princes and their extravagant weddings.

Anyway. Back to reality.

Right now on her right hand holds a piece of paper that she’s sure is perfumed (she wants to cough) and is so damn pink. This is supposed to be clues for the friend’s whereabouts but why does it look like a love letter?

According to Princess Snow White, a spell was cast onto her friend because he ate the apples her evil stepmom—who was disguised as a creepy old woman offering free fruits; the Case of the Poisonous Apple was insane—left on her cottage. [Name] rolls her eyes in exasperation, because of course this little bastard friend of Princess Snow White will eat those toxic apples.

(Those fucking lazy dwarves of hers didn’t even bother throwing it away after they got invited to her wedding and honeymoon. Like seriously though, who invites those mofos in your most intimate night or week with your husband???? Ew.)

My friend loves apples, so there’s no hesitation in munching them once sighted. Okay. So the friend has an apple obsession? Also, the perfume really, really hurts her nose.

And I do not know how my dearest friend got to Stormterror’s Lair, and [Name] doesn’t either, but hey, this is Mondstadt – things are not supposed to make sense due to the magic lingering in the air. Due to the magic lingering everywhere. Or even the happily ever after trend.

Also, does her friend even have a name? Why is the princess being fucking redundant? But my animal friends told me that they were informed by the winds that my friend is in there. So please, save my friend! Save my friend with a true love’s kiss!

True love’s kiss my ass, [Name] grimaces when she sees the kiss mark left on the paper, so she crumples it before hiding it in her pockets. There won’t be any kissing involved. Not gonna waste my first kiss for this.

Stormterror’s Lair being huge is an understatement. It’s freaking big. Though, she’s thanking the archons above (no matter how unjust they are), for finally blessing this location. There are no more storms anymore, so what’s left is just the peaceful soon–to–be–setting sun penetrating her skin. No one really comes here anymore, because who will even visit the ruins, when there’s a lot to explore in Mondstadt? Like digging up cursed treasures, fighting off evil wizards, and eating delicious meals cooked by a former frog.

Ah, Tiana. [Name] should definitely head to Good Hunter after this to devour some of her delectable beignets.

The wind will guide you if you ever get lost, [Name] recalls Princess Snow White’s advice, as she starts to trek the broken bridge that leads up to Decarabian’s Tower. Broken debris and splintered rocks are everywhere. The plants seeping through the cracks are full of life. It’s mother nature taking its course.

She adjusts the belt of her heavy armor.

[Name] thinks she got this. Despite being a human, Ms. Lisa still calls her extraordinary. She doesn’t have any magical powers, but she does have a huge headache due to sleep loss. And she’s still alive.

Ah. She can hear music being played already, and – oh.

Oh.

She halts in her tracks and bends down, meeting the gazes of the unknown creatures before her. If she’s not mistaken, these are anemo wind wisps, and man, she can’t understand a thing what they’re saying. All she knows is that they’re really lively, they’re all jumping up and down, as if excited to see her. Again, she can’t understand what they’re trying to convey because all she can hear are the tinkling of bells.

[Name] yelps when five? No, seven of them rush in front of her, and thankfully, with her fast reflexes, she manages to gather them meticulously in her arms.

Wow, they’re all soft and fluffy. It’ll be nice to have one (that is, if it’s allowed…?)

But her ears are ringing due to the continuous noises they’re emitting. The princess said that they may be able to aid her in this mission but she doesn’t speak wind wisp.

A wind wisp nuzzles with her finger affectionately. Adorable. And oh, it seems another wisp wants that too. And another, and ano–

“Hey, hey, calm down, everyone. I’m not going anywhere.” And surprisingly, they’re all obedient, because they all went quiet. Now there are pairs of dotted eyes staring at her soul, waiting for her to utter something. Great. The attention is all on me now. Also, it’s fascinating that they understand human language, considering that they listened to her. “Can you take me to the uh…”

Wait a minute, what is the role of the princess’ friend here anyway? Moreover, who even are they?

“To the uh… I don’t know, to the someone who’s in need of saving?”

Thankfully, they do. They all gleefully glide and pull each part of her body with their own little dark blue feet(?), and she wonders why they’re all so enthusiastic upon her arrival. It’s evident that they’re not strong enough to make her move, but she entertains them anyway by walking again. One wind wisp attempts to tug her by the sheath of her sword, but gives up in disappointment when it can’t lift it up.

[Name] suppresses an amused chuckle. She opens her palm, and said wind wisp sends her a closed eye smile after dropping its form on her hand. It doesn’t have any lips but it’s safe to assume that it’s smiling.

The trip to Decarabian’s Tower is a disaster.

At first, [Name] asks the wisps why they’re surrounding her figure, until she realizes that they’re all trying to carry her upwards. But it’s futile. Their wind powers aren’t enough, so after five minutes, the exhausted wisps rest in her satchel for a well–deserved break. They get tired easily, it seems.

“You did great, guys,” [Name] pats one of them, who just rubs itself more with her tender touch. Really affectionate beings, huh. She lets them be after a while and assesses the situation. The wisps were helping her get up, since the staircases are damaged.

[Name] thanks the wisps mentally, because that means that the friend is upstairs, since they’re all trying to lift her up there. She doesn’t have to find the friend anymore.

But… there are no damn fucking stairs, so how did aforementioned friend even get there?

As always, there are a lot of things in Mondstadt that don’t make sense.

Like the faint elemental energy engulfing this area.

[Name] considers stripping off her armor because it’ll hinder her ascension, but since she doesn’t have any superpowers or knowledge regarding spells for defense (damn you, fairy godmother), she has no choice but to still wear it as she climbs the walls of the tower.

She just hopes she’ll have enough stamina to reach the top.

And good archons, of course she does. Thank archons that she has mini supporters or else she’ll question her sanity for choosing the wrong decisions that has led her in this scenario.

When she lays on her stomach on its cold floors, [Name] observes the chamber while panting for air. Why the fuck does it reek of alcohol in here? It’s so gross!

But the wind wisps chirp in delight. [Name] watches them go and approach the gossamer curtains.

Oh, right. Here it is.

The climax.

[Name] gets up, dusts off the dirt she accumulated, and saunters close to the bed. She can discern the sleeping silhouette, and there are lulls of true love’s kiss entering through her ears.

She draws the curtains.

There’s a boy. There’s a beautiful, ethereal boy lying supine on the bed sleeping peacefully, with his hands attached to a bouquet of fresh cecilias placed on his chest. Which is strange, because they haven’t wilted even though it’s been weeks. Said boy’s chest heaves up and down as he breathes.

So the apple did indeed put him in a deep sleep.

[Name] inches closer to the boy. He has porcelain soft skin—it’s unblemished and flawless. It almost rivals the Princess Snow White’s.

There’s another cecilia on the left side of his hair. And he has ombre twin braids on each side of his head.

And he has too many bows on his outfit. The outfit looks comfortable enough, and it’s absolutely a Mondstadt clothing—the white ruffles on his button up shirt? Hah. Mondstadt.

Also hm. Shorts and stockings? [Name]’s never seen a male wear those before.

[Name]’s guessing that Princess Snow White’s friend must be a prince. The bows look high–priced…

[Name] inhales. She doesn’t mean to take a whiff, but he smells like petrichor. He smells like fresh flowers. But he also smells like wine.

Oh, the combination of those scents is fantastic—

Ah. Focus. Now let’s get this over with.

[Name] brushes her locks behind her ear, puts a leg on the mattress (making it to squeak), a hand beside the boy’s pillow, and slowly ducks her head down. The wind wisps start to squeal in anticipation, and giddiness, and

She pokes his cheek. Her finger dips from his squishy it is. “Wake up, it’s time to get up.” [Name] ignores the stunned stares of the wind wisps. She grunts and pokes his cheek again twice. “You’re not fooling me. Wake up, or I am going to smack you instead.”

A loud, mirthful giggle escapes from his throat, and [Name] resists the urge to click her tongue in irritation. Finally, the young man reveals his turquoise eyes, mesmerizing her for a second. Holy hell, why does everyone look so fucking nice in Mondstadt!? “Aww! Do not do that, please. Moreover, what gave it away?”

Breaking out of her dazed stupor, [Name] scowls at the smirk, “You were playing an instrument, weren’t you? I knew I wasn’t hearing things. It wasn't just the wisps, but it was you, too. And are you serious? There are lotsa bottles of wine on the floor. Who would even drink them? Unless, I don’t know? Maybe the one who’s pretending to snooze?” Then, she pokes his round cheek, again, making him snicker from the contact. “You also puckered your lips—hah! True love’s kiss? You ain’t getting that.”

“Eh! I was just playing the part! You’re not supposed to be acting like this—where are the declarations coming from your heart? You’re also supposed to sweep me off my feet, rescue me from the dragon, and take me to my happily ever after! For it is such an important matter!” [Name] blinks when arms hook around her neck, and she feels breath ghosting on her lips. He whispers in a low voice and with half–lidded eyes, “Though, I’m so glad it’s you—you’ve come at long last. My warrior, you’ve worked so hard. Please allow me to conquer those lips of yours for your reward?”

[Name] increases the distance almost immediately, making him whine from the abrupt withdrawal. She really can’t stand Mondstadt people and their wild fantasies. “In your dreams,” Then she searches around for the basket. The princess did add about the retrieval of her basket—it was probably important to her. “Where are the apples? What happened to the apples?” It’s for protocol, so this won’t happen again.

“Why don’t you come here and find out?”

“On second thought, please shut up,” [Name] picks up the wooden material after discovering that it hung on a stand. Now it’s time for the next agenda: the treasure. She needs the treasure because this is her payment for this commission.

She spins around to meet eyes with the young lad once more, but he’s too occupied cuddling with the wisps on the bed.

“Thank you for bringing her here,” he muses, and the wisps respond in chorus with their bell sound thing. Wow. So he can understand the wisps. “Yes, she’s really unprecedented, but that’s what makes her so dear.”

[Name] is confused, but shrugs it off anyway and approaches him again. “Hey, you.”

“I have a name, my fair maiden,” He looks up at her, still with that mischievous grin. “But my children here have names as well, so do not be mistaken.”

“Children? You have children? The fuck? Wait. The wisps have a name?” The wisps reply with tiny bobs of their head. Now this is something [Name] did not really expect. Mondstadt, what the hell? She’ll never get used to this. “Okay, okay, sure? I’ll ask later, um. What’s your name, then?”

“Venti the Bard, at your service.”

So he’s not a prince? He’s not part of any royal status? He’s just a normal person? That thought is comforting, anyhow. But the bows? (Maybe he saved up for it?)

“If you’re still wondering about the apples, they were already consumed by I,” Venti says, and leads one wisp on his shoulder. “They were absolutely yummy, and it is no lie.”

[Name] squints at him. She doesn’t know if she’ll be worried or relieved – so the apples have no effect on him? “The apples were poisonous. It contained chemicals. And they were from the princess’ evil stepmother.”

“Ah, indeed. The wench who initiated all this – but fear not, for she already would be punished for her greed.” Venti summons his lyre, and plucks its strings casually. He’s not a normal person. He can use magic. “Is my warrior troubled that I would get sick? Maybe you should come close and take a quick peek.”

“There’s no need for that,” [Name] swings the basket over her arm, and yanks him, making him stumble. He chuckles—”forward, are we?”—the wisps produce anxious rings, but she ignores them yet again. “I am impressed by your rhyming, but I think you should stop now.”

Venti smiles with his eyes closed. The lyre in his hand disappears, and he takes both of her hands in his own. “I would comply with your wishes, but you must give me something in return.” He opens his eyes again, and they’re sparkling. Okay, the sun is setting, and how can they look so enchanting? (Wait, did she just rhyme? Shit.) “One true love’s kiss, for it is urgent, so then the barriers shall burn.”

Archons. Mondstadt people really make no sense, and [Name] ponders if she should move soon. It’s too much romance. “Urgent? Barriers? And again with the true love’s kiss? I am not your true love. We’re just strangers. I implore you to keep that retained in your memory,” She tries to separate from his grasp, but she’s appalled when Venti shakes his head. He has a tight grip? How, with that lithe body of his? Or maybe because… “Venti—”

The chambers quake when a shadow passes by the windows—darkening the room for a moment. Venti hides his lips behind his fingers, whispering a “he’s here,” and [Name] gives him a questioning look. He? Who’s he?

The loud roar that vibrated the stone walls is enough of an answer.

[Name] facepalms. Of course, the damn dragon he mentioned is real. Of course of course of course.

She unsheathes her sword, but the wisps quickly come together to stop her from wielding it. Before, they were all joyous and victorious, but now, the wisps are apprehensive and adamant. They’re all shaking their heads disapprovingly, like their… father(?) from earlier. “…What?”

Clingclingcling. But it’s Venti who interprets for her, “Dvalin is a dear friend of mine, and he’s here to check if I am fine.” Dvalin? He means the so–called dragon of the four winds? One of the survivors of the archon war? What the fuck. And he’s friends with the likes of this bard?

Venti places his hands on his hips and raises a brow smugly. “Unfortunately, Dvalin hates trespassers, especially when they bring something that can be harmful. I can just tell him that you and I are acquainted, or better yet, each other’s one true love! But you did say that we are strangers, right, [Name]?”

He stopped the rhyming. Venti’s dead serious though it’s obvious from his tone that he’s clearly enjoying this. [Name] groans. She wants to ask how he knows her name but—

Why. Why must she live like this?

Out of all the things in the world, the possible cause of her death is because of an ancient dragon.

Well. At least she dies with honour. This will be a great story for the bards. Sigh.

“I hate my life.”

Then she casts her sword aside, grabs a startled Venti by the waist (“huh, w–wait—“) and then crashes her lips with his.

There’s a gush of wind outside Decarabian’s tower when Dvalin finally senses that the curse has been lifted.

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