Dainsleif 🌸 Y/n (m 4 a)

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🌸: Fluff
💧: Angst
🌶: Spicy
🫀: Yandere

Note:

I still feel heavy on doing my hobbies, but I did want to try and write, even if its half-assed.
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"May I have this dance"

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"May I have this dance"

A knight in dark armor, a wanderer of Teyvat. His greatness exceeds him, though everything has been abandoned in the past. It still haunts him, the fall of his kin, the death of many. And yet here stands them, a candlelight in unforgiving darkness, the remaining fragment of his shattered happiness, it was none other than you... Y/n. What could have been a life of relentless shocks of pain was soothed by the melody of their lighthearted laughs, the scenery of their crinkled eyes and happy grin, marked on his head for years to come by. And both of them depend on each other the most. It was them against the world almost all throughout their journey, and there was nothing that could negate that they denied the truth. Despite the situation, they remained as master and servant, as king and knight, as queen and pawn— though there was no denying that there was a beating heart that remained carrying a sliver of care and adoration, not one but two.

The sky was as dark as a raven's plume, dotted with diamonds that twinkle and about. There was a tint of purple and majestic blue that caved way for a path of stars. The moon shone bright, clear of clouds as it gazed at the land of Teyvat with a mesmirizing gaze. Its light subtly reached the viridescent lands, close to Stormterror's lair, but not quite in the middle, where two travelers camped for the night.
Under the stars, they shared a moment, the sound of crackling flames being but white noise on their ears. Under the vast azure blanketing sky were dots of luminaries that guide travelers down the path.

And the first to speak up was Y/n.

"Dain..." Y/n whispered, snuggling closer to the clothes they wore. "Your Highness..." Despite the years that have gone by, the honorifics stay the same.
"Don't you miss dancing with anyone? Back in the palace where we dance the same old waltz..." Y/n laid down upon the grass, looking at the sky with a nostalgic look. It was melancholic in a way, the sound of people chattering, wine glasses clinking, violins and pianos playing almost never-endingly. Dainsleif looked back at their figure, eyes softened, watching their eyes shine with tears that well up, begging to fall. "I miss those days..."

Dainsleif remembered the beauty behind dresses or suits. Whatever they wished to wear, he knew in his mind that His Highness continues to glow in any attire. Remembering the time that slipped past their fingers, the time to ask them for a dance had never really made its way— but if it did, maybe it wouldn't be too late to try... Dainsleif softly smiled, standing as Y/n's eyes narrowed in confusion.

"Maybe," Dainsleif started, bowing down for his eyes to meet theirs, and his shadow over them. He looked beautiful under the firmament.
"There's a few more ways to look back on those days." His hand was in front of them, and his dazzling smile was heartwarming. "Your Highness, may I have this dance?"

Y/n smiled, confused as their hands hesitated to reach out onto his. "But there's no music. How are we going to dance without the sound?" To which he replied, "Then follow my lead."

As soon as their skin touched, Y/n stood, feeling their entwined hands outstretched, his right hand on their back, and their left on his shoulder. Dainsleif leads them, though it was but a mental rhythm, the imaginary waltz playing in their circle of memories. It felt as if they were dancing alongside their nation, a ball to celebrate occasions after occasions. Y/n still felt like a graceful swan under the moonlight, and Dainsleif felt as if his heart resonated with theirs. "I've been waiting for you to ask me for a dance... all those years," Y/n murmured, looking onto his cerulean blue eyes, diamond pupils like their own reminding them of home. "I've hesitated far long than enough. This is the most I can do, Your Highness."
Y/n smiled, looking away for a mere second, when they felt a dip, where his face was the subject of their perspective. No star can rival against the view of their knight in dark armor.

As he brought them back to their starting position, Y/n whispered to his ear, "Dain... say my name."
Their eyes sparkle upon meeting his gaze once again. Y/n could never get enough of his eyes, eyes that rarely soften in nights where everything collapses upon their shoulders.
Dainsleif's eyes crinkle with a genuine smile on his face. "Y/n, my lord/lady."

He felt their head on his chest, relinquishing in his warmth once again. "Shall we dance, one more time, Y/n."

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And thus their melancholic and nostalgic waltz went on just as far as memory came to life. Once exhaustion had creeped onto the two, they ended it as swift as a beautiful and graceful dip. Dainsleif could see the tiny sliver of happiness on their eyes, paired with genuine smiles as contagious as a plague. "Well then. The night has long watched our show. For now, we must rest. A new day shall arrive soon."
He wrapped them in blankets, tucking them in their tent, when his hand was sought before he could leave.

He already knew the words that would come out of their lips. Despite the many promises, he could feel their pout as their eyes begged of him to stay, to hold them tight for the night like always. It could almost be a routine, that Dainsleif never minded. Anything for his highness, for you, my friend.

Dainsleif laid beside them, feeling their head on his chest, hiding away. And he held them closer, his hand on their waist, and the other cradled his head. He could still smell the scent of flowers on their skin, from their personal miniature garden, of course. He still continues to worry, to dread the day where that scent of their miniature garden would be of dreams alone, and that even they would become but a sliver of memory. But even so, Dainsleif hopes that he'll be able to keep his highness safe as long as he lives, for that is a knight's main priority.
You, my friend, are Dainsleif's priority, the reason why he continues to march on, and it shall forever remain that way.

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