The next morning, Orion and Frieda woke up tangled together like a vine wrapped around a pole.
Frieda nuzzled her nose against Orion's cheek, a bright smile lighting up her face.
"Good morning, handsome…"
Orion chuckled and pulled his face back slightly. "What's that for?"
She giggled. "Well, what are you planning to do today? Wanna join me and the knights for an expedition?"
(And before you start wondering what happened—YES, our boy Orion GOT LUCKY last night. But relax, this fanfic is family-friendly. If I wrote the details, y'all wouldn't be able to keep it in your pants.)
"Sure, that sounds great…" he murmured with a content sigh, snuggling closer and breathing in the sweet scent of her skin.
The irony stung sharper than any blade.
Here she was—wrapped around him in warmth, humming a carefree tune, washing his back like they had all the time in the world.
And yet... she would die by his hands.
Not today. Not tomorrow. But soon.
Fate had already signed her death warrant—and it bore his name.
And right now, this felt so good.
Oops. Spoiler alert.
Well anyways.
They both got up from the bed, stretching and laughing as they caught sight of each other—hair sticking out in every direction like they'd just wrestled a hurricane, eyes half-lidded with sleep.
"You look like a puffed-up dandelion," Orion teased, ruffling Frieda's wild hair.
She gasped dramatically. "Excuse me?! This is top-tier morning beauty! You, on the other hand, look like a confused goose."
They both burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room like music.
Then, Frieda leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Wanna bathe together?" she asked, voice soft but playful.
Orion's face turned crimson in record time. He tried to say something, but only a soft, squeaky "Uh-huh" came out as he nodded.
"Great! Let's go." She grabbed his hand and led him toward the bathroom, practically glowing with excitement. In her mind: "I won the lottery AND found the treasure map in the same week."
---
In the bathroom...
Steam gently curled through the air as the warm water filled the tub, and the faint scent of lavender soap hung like a dreamy cloud. Frieda stepped in first, pulling Orion in after her.
He sat awkwardly at first, facing away from her. Then he felt her arms wrap around him from behind.
"U-Um... I thought we were just bathing..." Orion mumbled, cheeks burning as he stared at the tiled wall like it held the answers to the universe.
Frieda giggled and gently picked up a sponge. "I am just helping you wash your back, silly. Knights gotta take care of each other, right?"
Orion relaxed a little, although his ears remained bright red.
"O-Okay... but no funny business…"
"I pinky promise," she said, grinning like she was absolutely up to something. She started humming a gentle tune while washing his back, her touch tender but teasing.
"I never thought a bath could be this…stressful," Orion muttered under his breath, making her laugh again.
"Don't worry," she whispered in his ear, "You'll get used to it."
He gulped.
Later that morning, the quiet hum of preparation filled the room.
The sound of fabric rustling, boots being laced, and metal clasps snapping into place blended into an unspoken rhythm. No words were needed—they moved around each other with the ease of routine and something deeper. Something unspoken.
Frieda checked her satchel twice, then looked over her shoulder with a grin. "You're slower than a snail in winter, you know that?"
Orion smirked, tightening a strap with practiced fingers. "I'm making sure everything's perfect. Some of us don't rely on luck and flirting to survive."
She stuck out her tongue. "Jealous?"
"Terrified," he said with a wink.
They stood across from each other for a beat, helmets in hand, sharing a glance that said more than either dared to put into words. A quiet gravity lingered behind the banter—something neither of them acknowledged, but both of them felt.
Frieda broke the silence with a clap of her hands. "Ready to conquer the wild unknown, partner?"
Orion gave a soft chuckle and nodded. "With you? Always."
Both of them walked toward the Knights of Favonius headquarters, where the expedition team was already assembled and awaiting departure. The morning sun glinted off armor and weapons, casting long shadows on the stone courtyard.
"Captain Frieda. You're late."
The voice was calm but cutting, like silk drawn across a blade.
Standing at the front of the group was a man whose presence demanded attention without needing to raise his voice. His jet-black hair was tied back with a pale green ribbon, a subtle nod to Liyuean tradition. Sharp jade eyes glanced up from a clipboard, gleaming with equal parts intelligence and judgment.
His pale skin bore faint, scale-like tattoos trailing down his forearms—barely visible beneath the sleeves of his pristine white Favonius robes, edged in elegant Liyuean gold trim. A sleek medical satchel rested at his hip, its contents arranged with the kind of precision that bordered on obsession.
"Sorry, Qinyue," Frieda said with a sheepish smile, a hint of pink blooming on her cheeks. "I was helping Orion get ready for his first expedition with us. He wants to lend a hand."
Qinyue's gaze flicked to Orion, and his expression softened—just a touch, like winter snow giving way to spring rain.
"How is your health now, Orion?" he asked, his tone shifting into something more measured, almost… protective.
Orion stood tall, responding with quiet dignity. "I'm doing much better. Frieda told me you were the one who treated me when I collapsed. I wanted to thank you—sincerely."
Qinyue gave a slow nod. "It was my duty. I'm the disciple of the one who holds the contract with Changsheng. Healing is... expected of me."
Then, just as quickly, the softness vanished.
"That said, I can't allow you to join the expedition. Not yet. You've barely recovered. Pushing your body too soon would be irresponsible—and frankly, foolish."
Frieda opened her mouth to protest, but Qinyue raised a hand.
"No exceptions. You might feel fine now, but adrenaline is a liar—and so are your muscles when they're pretending to be strong."
Orion glanced at Frieda, uncertain, but she gave him a reassuring look.
"I'll talk to him," she whispered.
Qinyue, hearing it anyway, sighed. "Just don't get attached, Captain."
And with that, he turned on his heel and barked orders to the other knights, leaving the tension hanging behind like a fog no wind could clear.
As the expedition moved beyond Mondstadt's city gates, the morning air was calm… until it wasn't.
Without warning, a violent gust of wind slammed into Orion with unnatural force, lifting him clean off his feet. He didn't scream—he couldn't. It was like the wind itself stole the breath from his lungs.
In the blink of an eye, he was soaring silently into the sky, the world below shrinking into insignificance.
And strangely—eerily—no one noticed. The knights marched on, chatting, completely oblivious to the boy being yeeted by the heavens.
Just as Orion was about to panic, he stopped midair—suspended by invisible threads, staring into the too-cheerful face of Venti, who was casually lounging in the air like he was sunbathing on a cloud.
"Orion," Venti said, sighing like this was just another Tuesday. "I strongly advise you not to leave Mondstadt. The winds are weaker out there. I can't protect you."
Orion gave him the most done-with-your-BS look a man could muster while floating.
"Oh now you care? Were you thinking about that when you ghosted me at the bar and left me to cover a bill bigger than my rent?"
Venti looked off dramatically, whistling innocently. "Ah yes… the night was young, the music divine…"
"I had to pawn off my brooch, you walking musical disappointment!"
Venti winced. "Ah. So that's where it went."
"Yes, you cosmic disappointment in skinny stockings, that's where it went! I had to stare into the eyes of the bartender while explaining the brooch was sentimental!"
Venti scratched the back of his head. "Well, you'll get it back eventually… maybe."
Orion crossed his arms mid-air. "Are you here to give life advice, or just ruin my day further?"
"I'm the embodiment of freedom, not emotional support," Venti replied with a carefree shrug. "I won't stop you. I can't. But beyond Mondstadt's borders, the winds change—and something out there watches you."
His voice lowered, just enough to plant a seed of unease.
"Just… be careful. That's all."
Then, with a whimsical swirl of wind and wine-scented air, Venti was gone—dissolving like mist in the morning sun.
Orion was gently lowered back to the path, landing just behind the still-oblivious knights.
He stood there for a moment, brushing imaginary dust off his tunic. "I swear, if I make it through this expedition, I'm buying that brooch back and shoving it up his flute."
He jogged to catch up, the smile fading from his lips as Venti's words echoed in his mind.
"Something out there watches you."