I Plead, Your Majesty, For Forgiveness

Chapter 17

TW: Burns, Bones Cracking, Skin Scraping.

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The moment the Creator let fatigue overtake their body, the bard accompanying them stood idly in the hotel room. His eyes wandered everywhere else after his utterance, taking careful strides to the door for the Creator's right to privacy. The handle lifted once the door closed with a click, signalling the separation of room and hallway, but the Archon wasn't satisfied with the service he had to give.

His eyes slowly laid upon the sleeping deity, doing his best to keep his shoes from disturbing the quiet, before he stood by their side. He didn't say a word, sticking with his silent agreement of letting them sleep peacefully with no interruption from him. He had seen the higher class of millennia ago be taken care of, even when he was just a mere wisp of the wind. With his limited knowledge, dismissing the thought of the back of his mind, his dainty fingers reached for the comfortable shoes: he didn't care about the dust or dirt decorating his digits as he did so; his priority was comfort for [Name], not himself.

He let the wind help lighten his steps, placing down the shoes by the door as he wiped the mud onto his brown corset without a care, but made his way back to the soundless sleeper in the room. He let out a soft hum to himself — a melody he had been conducting once news of the Creator's arrival broke — whilst he moved the position of the deity to lift the duvet over their figure so they won't freeze in the night: not that he'd let that happen; he has control of the wind so, of course, he'd let the breeze warm or never arrive for the sake of his superior.

He stepped back once [Name] nestled further into their pillow, smiling victoriously to himself as the pride rose from their comfort. He took a few more steps back, bumping his back into the wall as he slid down to the floor. His eyes never once left their figure, slowly resting his head against the drawers next to him until he felt it suitable to rest. He'd take care of them. He would promise that. The wind shall protect them as he shall.

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The crowd in the tavern barely bat an eye as [Name] stood up from their seat, making their way to the front before Diona stopped them. "Oi!" The Kätzlein huffed, "you can't just up and leave when I'm getting you something!"

"S—Sorry." Their lips curved into a sheepish smile, hesitantly reaching for the plaster Diona held out but dropped as their hand got swatted away. They silently watched as the small girl huffed, flicking her tail in irritation as she opens up the plaster to carefully wrap around the wound on their finger.

"Now you can leave." She grumbled as she crossed her arms, turning her head away but tensed as the Creator's hand instinctively went to her head. With a preoccupied mind, [Name] gave Diona a small pat with a word of appreciation before they rushed out the door to catch the double life of Diluc.

They disregarded the sound of the door slamming, hopping down the stairs to avoid the cats that sprawled out across the mini deck, as they searched for the man in black. "Ya!" The echoes of cries from a hilichurl caught their attention, "celi ya!" With hesitant steps, [Name]'s shoes clacked against the concrete of the Mondstadt plaza's pathway, stopping near the long flowerbeds as frantic steps came from the fountain location. Their eyes widened slightly as the panicked Hilichurl came rushing toward them, holding up their hands fanatically but relaxed slightly as all the creature did was hide behind them.