#wind wisp

Venti didn’t want to risk infecting Dvalin, and Andrius was never too comforting. He would love to rest in the hands of his (friend’s) statue, but his stronger-than-a-human’s sneezes would attract unwanted scrutiny, and likely bother the people in the plaza. And then the Sisters would notice, and insist on trying to heal him or having him rest in the cathedral’s recovery wing. And then he’d be stuck listening to choir songs singing praises he didn’t deserve, while all the sisters prayed to himself so he could get better!

So, he stayed at the roots of Vennessa’s Tree, trying to make himself comfortable, while several wind wisps tried to comfort him. He closed his eyes, and tried once again to relax. 

“Oh! Apologies, I wasn’t expecting you to be out here.”

He slowly opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the voice, where Grandmaster Jean was standing. She looked concerned. 

“Grandmaster Jean!” He mouths the word ‘acting’ as she goes to correct him, “What a pleasant surprise! What brings you to Windri-Achoo!” Venti groaned.

“I often visit Lady Vennessa’s Tree to clear my head. Are you alright?”

He winced at the thought that he was adding more stress to her plate, “Of Course, Grandmaster Jean!” He wished his voice didn’t sound as hoarse.

Jean looked conflicted, then took a few steps towards Venti and sat down next to him, “I hope I’m not being too presumptuous, but… I wasn’t aware Archons could get sick.”

Venti sneezed again, then looked at Jean, “Oh, it’s just something I have to deal with every few centuries. Alas, even gods are not immune to colds,” He sighed dramatically, “Perhaps this is my punishment for stealing Master Diluc’s wine…”

She looked at his lap, where several wind wisps were currently resting, “Then are the… wind spirits also sick?”

He followed her gaze to the sleeping wind wisps, “Ah, no, they’re just trying to make me - Achoo! - feel better.” 

“Is that why you’re spending more time at the Tree? You mentioned before that it helps you heal.”

“Alas, Valiant Vennessa’s tree only helps heal ailments of the magical kind. Such a mundane problem cannot be healed from a magical source.”

She looked down at her own lap, “I know it’s not my place to question your judgment…”

He placed a hand over his heart and closed his eyes, “Grandmaster Jean, you wound me! I can take any criticism you have to throw at me!” He let his hands fall to his sides, opened his eyes and looked at Jean, “I value your opinion, really! Whatever it is you have to say, please don’t let my status as an archon keep you from sharing!”

“If Lady Vennessa’s Tree can’t heal your cold, then why are you still sitting outside? Fresh air and exercise is imperative to a quick recovery, but so is proper rest. I can’t imagine it’s easy to make the trip to Windrise every day. Surely there’s a park closer to your house.”

“Oh, I don’t actually have a house in the city! I usually just sleep outside.” 

She looked horrified, “Lord Barbatos-”

He quickly interrupted, “It’s fine, really! I love the outdoors!” His smile didn’t seem to convince her. 

“I cannot in good conscience allow a citizen of Mondstadt, archon or otherwise, to remain outside while they are recovering from an illness. I can offer you my house’s spare bedroom.”

“That’s really not -Achoo! - necessary, Grandmaster Jean. Really, this just happens sometimes. I’ll be fine in a few days… ah… ah… Achoo!” 

“I insist, Lo- Venti. We don’t want whatever you have to get worse. And I’m sure you wouldn’t want myself, your other friends, and all your… wind spirits to worry you aren’t taking care of yourself.”

He gasped, “I can’t believe you Grandmaster Jean! Using my compassion against me,” he draped his hand over his forehead, “Oh, woe is me if- Achoo!... Ah… Ah… Achoo!” He dropped his hands back to his sides, “... I’ll go, if only to give you peace of mind. You may have a point about proper rest.”

She smiled, “I’m glad to hear it,” she held a hand out to help him up. As he stood up, several wind wisps roused from their sleep and floated up beside his head. 

“There’s plenty of room for the wind spirits too.”

He took her hand, and smiled earnestly, “Thank you, Grandmaster Jean.”

*** 

An hour later, he was laying on her spare bed, which he had to admit was much comfier than a tree. He was still sneezing every few minutes, but he was as relaxed as he could be in present conditions. Several of the Thousand Winds floated next to him. 4 were trying to sing to him, 3 were nuzzling against him to provide comfort, and others were playing with his hair. 

One of his braids was dangling over the edge of the bed, and 2 wind wisps were quite entertained by watching it sway in the small breezes they created. The other braid had come undone entirely, and 3 wind wisps were trying to rebraid it for him. 

Each time he sneezed, they lost their grip, the half-done braid fell apart, and they had to start over again. It would be a few sneezes before they learn to braid his hair quick enough. They don’t seem to mind having to start over. In fact, they seem to really enjoy constantly braiding his hair. Venti suspects that if his sneezing didn’t regularly undo their progress, they would’ve redone the braid several times by now.

Venti doesn’t want to think about the chaos the other 988 winds were out causing. Instead, he thinks about how nice Jean was to give him the bed even though he probably caused more work for her. He would have to repay her somehow once he got better.