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Venti was sitting on his statue, lyre in hand, mindlessly ghosting his fingers over the strings, letting the wind carry the melody onwards, making it seem as though the dandelion seed guided by the wind were dancing through the air, enjoying the music almost as much as he himself did. It was a pretty sight to behold, but what lay below him had a charm to it that couldn’t be surpassed.
It was his favourite time of the year: The Windblume festival.
The city was dusted in blue and white, cecilias and dandelions grazing Mondstadt’s every corner. Everything was thoughtfully placed, each flower imbued with the love and passion of the citizens. He had watched them fuss around for days to get the city to this state of perfection.
Flora had provided the flowers. They had arrived over the course of two whole days carefully transported together with mistflowers to keep them from blooming before the festival began.
The Knights, adventurers, adults and children had all worked hand in hand to spread the flowers all over Mondstadt. And if a child could not reach the lantern they wanted to put a flower on even with the help of their parent then who had to know that the breeze safely carrying the child’s flower to it’s destination was not just a natural occurrence.
Jean had worked thrice as hard to decrease the workload so that everyone could enjoy the festival to it‘s fullest. At some point Kaeya had ushered her out of the office deadset on keeping her away from all the paperwork left even if it meant that he had to do a little more when taking over her responsibilities during the festival. Jean had protested at first but having anticipated this the sleek knight had brought along Barbara as the ace up his sleeve. Venti had been greatly amused by the way Jean’s hesitance, to take it easy for a while, melted away as her sister’s gleaming gaze landed on her.
Barbara’s excitement to spend some time with Jean was just too powerful to ignore. The act of the great dandelion knight being defeated by a single innocent glance was enough to get Venti’s inspiration going, first few lines of the ballad already on his tounge and the first notes already in his heart.
Now, with the fruit of their hard labour in front of the archon‘s very eyes he could do nothing but stare in awe. Children were running around, their laughter echoing through the street, couples were gifting each other flowers, sharing small glances or faint touches to show their appreciation for each other. Walking through the city he had seen one of his students read the poem they had written for their significant other. She had embraced them, whispering something in their ear before giving them a kiss on the cheek. Venti had turned away then, feeling as if he was intruding on something, but his heart was filled with joy, for even if he had done it for the sweet taste of the Windblume exclusive apple cider he was glad to see the joy his simple assistance had brought others.
After the whole incident with Dvalin, Mondstadt had been shaken and it had pained him to see the two things he loved most be hurt without him being able to help either side. But now? Dvalin, his dear friend, was healthy and safe. Mondstadt was luminous, thriving, alive. And just like the city and all of its people, the archon himself, felt changed. Sometimes when he put too much force into his steps he would float a bit before landing safely back on the ground. This had led to a few close calls with people leaving the tavern only to discover Venti landing back on the ground too slow for it to be the work of gravity. He had to laugh and wave it off desperately trying to get them to think it was a figment of their alcohol doused senses. In hindsight, the bard had found each encounter hilarious but after Diluc had refused to give him any more wine if he had to hear one more story about the „small angel that manifested after midnight“ Venti promised that it wouldn’t happen again and tried to control his powers a bit more. (One can only go so long without the taste of their favourite beverage).
Thinking about the tavern made the craving for Apple Cider arise. He had already gone through the bottles Kaeya had bought for him as thanks for his help and even though the trickle of the honey like alcohol had him feeling refreshed he was definitely not tipsy enough for his liking and despite the beautiful view in front of him the company he longed for was lacking. With the sun already beginning to set he pushed himself off his statue and began to glide towards the tavern. Just because he wasn’t using his powers did not mean that he couldn’t glide everywhere. He was a wind spirit after all, walking just didn’t feel right.
Entering the tavern he was warmly greeted by José. Charles on the other hand just looked defeated as soon as he laid eyes on the short bard. Lisa and Kaeya we’re both sitting on the barstools to the left, drinking and talking in a volume that without doubt would make Diluc sick to the stomach if he had been there. Out of the two Kaeya had noticed him first, screaming for him to come sit and have a drink with them. Venti obliged having nothing against the company, since he had come for that anyways, especially if the company paid for his drinks.
"So, Venti, have you heard the news yet?“, It was evident that the two had been at it for a while before Venti had joined them. With the way his words slurred a bit and the giggles escaping them from time to time. They looked like children who had aqired their first swearword and we’re trying to futilely keep it a secret from their parents, "It concerns a little fiery man with no taste in fashion!“
Whatever the news were they now had Venti‘s undivided attention. Though Venti disagreed with Kaeya’s view on Diluc‘s fashion sense he did have to admit that any gossip about the owner of the dawn winery greatly interested him. "Do go on, my dear, drunken friend.“
Out of his peripheral vision Venti could see Charles flinch, resulting in him spilling some of the wine he was trying to pour into the glass. Between setting the bottle down and getting a towel to clean up the mess he had fixated Kaeya with a burning glare that would have halted the cavalry captain in his quest to spread the gossip weren’t he so oblivious because of the alcohol cursing through his veins.
If Charles was using the expression he usually reserved for the archon when he decided to stay a bit too long with one or two glasses of cider too much, then whatever information Kaeya had required had to be something juicy. Kaeya continued on undeterred, pausing a lot to laugh or take a sip of his wine. The words were slurred, sometimes one word bled into another, despite that everything the knight said bore itself deep into the bard’s mind, refusing to ever leave it’s new home again. Charles had tried more than once to break up their little gossip exchange. Venti had merely shushed him and waved him off, which left Charles in stunned silence long enough for them to continue for a while.
"Isn’t that hilarious?“, Kaeya asked after finishing his story, "The only reason he’s not here is because he’s avoiding me. The power I hold now is just too great and he knows it.“
"The darkknight hero? Avoiding you? I think you’ve got some things mixed up“, Lisa chimed in, placing a hand onto Kaeya’s shoulder, "Darling, he’s just thinking about all the ways he could silence you without getting in trouble or providing more work for Jean. And if you ask me, he’s going to have an answer by midnight.“
They fell into a heated argument after that. Something about how Kaeya would whoop his brother’s ass and how he would never go down in a 1v1 fight. Lisa just cooed and patted his head as if she was trying to comfort an agitated child, who was trying not to cry after hurting themself. Venti all but ignored the discussion, his mind too preoccupied with the information he had received. Only when Kaeya bid his goodbye, pulled through the door by Lisa, did Venti snap out of it.
The tavern had cleared out by now. No guest was to be found, except for Venti. José was retrieving his bag and jacket to leave, Charles was polishing the last glasses to put them back onto the shelves. His expression was that of a defeated man, who knew his doom drew near. Venti kinda felt responsible for the bartenders headache and gave a silent promise to go easy on him the next few days. The six-fingered bard waved before letting the door fall close behind him.
Not many got to experience the tavern during this kind of hour. Silence wasn’t something that came to mind when thinking about Angel’s share but Venti liked the atmosphere after closing hour. It felt safe and had something soothing to it. If you asked him it was the perfect way to come down from the high you experienced surrounded by alcohol, laughter, off key sung songs and great company. Venti appreciated that Charles let him stay until he was done with his preparations for the next busy day of the tavern and he had to close Angel’s share for good. The archon knew how annoying and persistent he could be, which is why he did not take the gesture for granted, making sure to always thank the barkeeper after even though he would just passively wave off his efforts.
To their surprise the door to the tavern opened once more. Venti expected it to be José, returning to receive something he had forgotten. Charles called a lazy "we’re closed“ over his shoulder, which was followed by a long, loud yawn. The person opening the door did not seem fazed by it. Raising his head the bard turned to see the intruder and was shocked to find Diluc standing in the threshold. He was dusting off some dandelion seeds from his shoulders. On his dark brown coat the seeds stuck out like fireflies in the night. Diluc’s eyes found his and being caught blatantly staring at the taller man Venti did what he did best: hiding behind humour.
"Should’nt the darkknight hero be out there and save the night?“ Venti said, hoping that Diluc would think that the alcohol was the sole reason for his rosy cheeks.
"Should’nt you be at home by now? Open hours are already over“, the redhead retorted, fully stepping inside.
"Ouch, that hurts coming from you. I thought I am welcome here at any time of the day.“
There was a strech of silence, as Diluc walked around the bar to exchange information with Charles, just long enough for Venti to question if he was overstepping his boundaries and should leave. But then he heard a quiet "you are“ whispered under Diluc’s breath, probably not even loud enough for Charles, who had gone in the back with a clipboard in hand, to hear. The anxiety eased out of Venti. He rested his head in the crook of his elbow, hiding his smile by pretending to be tired. Listening to the soft footsteps of his friends had an oddly calming effect and Venti found himself dozing off without really wanting to.
A light shake to his shoulder woke him up. The redhead was leaning down, presumably to get a better look at Venti’s face to check if his method had been successfull. "You should go home or at least into the guestroom upstairs. This is not the most comfortable place and position to sleep in“, he said, hand never leaving the bard’s shoulder. Diluc was met with a slow, lazy, closed eyed smile. It made the winery owner clear his throat as he forced his eyes to find the ceiling. "Come on, it’s late“, with a last squeeze of his hand Diluc let his hand fall to his side. He turned and opened the door trusting that the archon would follow.
"Is it true that you can play the lyre?“ It was barely a whisper, just a simple thought finding a voice of its own for the first time. Click. Surprised by the random question the door handle had slipped from Diluc‘s gloved hand. Venti himself was just as surprised. He hadn’t meant to give up his formerly received intel so easily. He had meant to see if he could coax the reserved and private man to tell him himself, but Venti wasn’t the most patient type, especially in regards to music.
Diluc sighed, shaking his head as he massaged his temple with his fingers. "That man, I swear one day I’ll shut him up for good.“
Venti wasn’t smiling now. In fact, he could kick himself for letting the question slip through his grasp and into the world. It was obvious that Diluc did not want him to know about what he did or did not do in the confines of his home. "Sorry for being nosy. I should have stopped Kaeya from telling me your secrets. Just forget I ever asked.“
"I’m not mad about you knowing that I can play the lyre. I’m mad because Kaeya… ruined the surprise,“ for the second time that evening Diluc set out to leave the tavern, "Now come on, if you want to see for yourself you’ll have to leave the tavern first.“
The bard only managed a slightly confused chuckle. Brain evidently overwhelmed by the information it had received. The redhead did not wait for Venti to reset, turning off the remaining lights before walking outside, letting the door fall close behind him. The spark finally seemed to ignite a fire and Venti shot out of his seat, scrambling after the man, screeching a way too high "wait“ as he struggled to detangle his cape from the barstool in the total darkness.
In his haste he tripped over a loose cobblestone barely managing to keep himself upright with an expertly placed gush of wind. Zhongli should be ashamed of himself for creating uneven stones. The archon made a mental note to bring up his woes the next time they came across each other. In this moment, however, he had more important things to focus on. Namely, Diluc being gone. His shoulders slumped and he turned his gaze up into the sky. "Why is he so fast?“ Venti whined.
"So dramatic.“
A glance to the side revealed that Diluc did indeed not leave him behind. Instead, he was leaning with his back against the wall of the tavern, arms crossed as he mustered the bard through a sideways glance.
"Move over. I need to lock the door.“ He encouraged Venti to step aside with a light push against the shoulder, taking his place to finally lock the door.
They set off on their journey back to the dawn winery. Pace faster than Venti, in his drunken state, appreciated. Though he did not complain as it felt good to just walk side by side in silence with the creatures of the night singing their praise. The occasional shiver disturbed Venti’s peace. At some point he even sneezed. Archon’s couldn’t get sick, well, at least not because of the weather or other mundane things, so he wasn’t worried. But out of the corner of his eye he saw Diluc take off his coat only to push it into Venti’s chest.
"Take it“, he said. And after seeing that Venti did not react right away he just let go of the coat, giving Venti no choice but to catch the coat before it fell to the ground. Diluc just walked on, undeterred from the archon’s baffled expression.
"Huh, what? Wait!“ Venti sprinted the small distance between them, coat, heavier than its appearance gave away, draped over his arm. "You can’t just give me your coat. Now you’re going to be cold yourself“, he replicated Diluc’s move, trying to make him take the coat back. He was met with an unimpressed huff, or maybe it was a suppressed laugh?
The darkknight raised his hand to poke Venti’s forehead with his index finger. "I though you, as the anemo archon, would know. Pyrovision users don’t get cold, at least not as fast as other people would. Sure, it takes some energy to keep myself warm, but it’s not that much longer until we are at the winery. So, don’t worry about it, great barbatos.“
The mock at the end made the archon’s ears tint pink as he stammered to protest. Finally, he did get somewhat coherent sentences out. "Of course, I knew that. Who do you take me for? That is basic archon knowledge that I, in fact, knew. Now, let’s not waste anymore time and get back to the wonderfully heated winery.“ The bard threw on the coat and set off walking in front of the taller man. He did not want Diluc to notice how flustered he got from just wearing the other ones jacket. The jacket barely floated over the ground, fur caressing the ground only on the rarest occasion. It felt as though Venti was in a lasting embrace with the pyro vision user, the lingering warmth and comforting weight being the grand contributing factors. Venti was sure that his cheeks would rival even Diluc’s hair at this point and he tried his best to calm down. He did not want to take the coat off ever again, but as all good things it had to come to an end eventually.
They arrived at the dawn winery, too soon for Venti’s liking. Diluc strode in, stopping to hold the door open for Venti, and immediately began to climb up the stairs, gesturing for Venti to follow, who obliged. Even without the few people that normally occupied the space the winery felt welcoming. The bard was careful not to step onto the hem of the coat as he ascended. Not wanting to tear the material or hurt himself falling down the steps. Naturally he could have taken off the coat instead to not even risk the possibility of falling. But where was the fun in that?
Before entering Diluc’s room, Venti waited for another sign from the man to know that he was allowed to step inside. The redhead turned to the archon bringing his gloved hand to his mouth. Gently biting down on the leather to pull and loosen the glove from his hand. After doing the same with the other one he pulled them off all the way with his hands. "Aren‘t you going to take off my coat?“
Venti thought that he would die then and there. Did this man really not know the power he possessed? It did not matter, for Venti just hid behind a smile slowly removing the brown coat from his body. Not knowing what to do with it he turned to try and find a coat hook or anything of the sorts. Diluc noticed him being at a loss and took the coat from him, fingers sliding over Venti’s wrist.
"Make yourself comfortable. Anywhere you’d like. I’ll get the Lyre,“ Diluc said, walking over to a painting of what Venti assumed was the vineyard of the dawn winery.
It was in that moment that he remembered why he had gone all the way back to Diluc’s room though being tipsy, tired and in the overall worst state to be in when you were trying to hide a crush. He fell back onto Diluc’s way too big bed for only one person, facing the ceiling. Though, after hearing a click he sat up straight to watch what the other was doing.
The painting had been placed safely on the ground. A wooden safe revealed in its place. Vines and grape were burned into the wood. It gave the illusion of the vines being the sole protector of what was inside but tiny keyholes, three in total, hinted otherwise. One key had already been placed inside and successfully turned around. The others were soon to follow as Diluc pulled one key after another out of his impossible variety of pockets, Venti didn’t even know he had.
Maybe he was being noisy, maybe he wasn’t supposed to know what was inside the safe –besides the Lyre of cause–, but Diluc hadn’t told him to turn around or close his eyes so he assumed that it was alright. The redhead opened the safe and the first thing Venti saw was a picture of two little boys, not older than seven, standing side by side, arm in arm, with a smile so big and bright that they rivaled the sun. The picture was old and had evidently gone through much. Its waviness indicating that it had come into contact with water and some of the edges seemed to have been burnt, though it was still obvious who the children were.
Diluc payed the photograph no mind as he reached inside the safe, past a thick book covered in dust and other loose documents, to retrieve the Lyre from the back. No matter how delirious he was from the alcohol still in his system and the lack of sleep he wasn’t tone-deaf enough to start bringing up the touchy subject of Diluc and his brother. Especially when he was about to get a personal concert that would most definitely turn into his funeral symphony if he pushed his welcome.
The instrument was fine work and if someone would know then it was Venti. Naturally it wasn’t on the same level as the Lyre der Himmel, but in Venti’s opinion it came pretty close. He could see that the lyre had been crafted with love and care. Thought behind every little step it took to bring the lyre to life. It looked natural in Diluc’s hands. Seeing him with the Lyre made him think that it wasn’t such a far strech for him to play some tunes now and then. The bard thought it fit right in with the man. Passionate and precise willing to experiment. Yes, the archon was 100% sure that the Lyre was the perfect instrument for Diluc.
After some tuning of the instrument he turned to face Venti, well, kind of. He wasn’t looking directly at him rather angled to face the door and Venti at the same time. Probably subconsciously in preparation to flee, if needed, out of his own home. A pause, a deep breath as Diluc carefully placed his fingers on the strings. Then, he began to play. A little reluctant at first. Making some mistakes here and there that made Diluc visibly flinch. But Venti did not mind. He watched with an unwavering gaze, fixated on the way Diluc’s fingers ghosted over the strings. There was a smile on his face. A smile meant to hide nothing, meant to glow and encourage. A smile only meant for Diluc in this very moment. Venti hoped that it would help the other relax, and it did. Not long after the uncertainty was gone, no further mistakes were made and the redhead closed his eyes, fully in the present.
Venti knew the song Diluc performed for him. Of course he did, he knew all songs of the present, past and future. But he had never imagined that one of his favourite songs, one he himself often mindlessly strung on his personal Lyre, would have been composed by none other than Diluc. His secretive idiot. It only made the song more special just like the time they shared now. The thought of Diluc alone in his room, nose scrunched up in concentration —the archon had observed it more than once and thought it to be especially cute on Diluc— as he tried to create a melody with Venti in mind made the bard drown in his unspilled love for the other.
The song was coming to an end, Venti could tell. Some part of him wanted the song to go on forever, for the two of them to just enjoy this serenity, this safe haven they created. No demands, no pressure. In here, in Diluc’s presence, he was no archon, no wind spirit deemed to protect Mondstadt and listen to the woes and prayers of the citizens. He was just a person. An equal, just as deserving of recieving love despite their past failures and their imperfections. The other part insisted that he was undeserving of Diluc’s love and affection. That it was selfish to pretend and abandon all of his duties just to feel better about himself. In spite of being the archon of freedom he couldn’t remember a time where he felt this free and uplifted.
Diluc decided then to open his eyes again. Turning to fully face Venti he looked with half lidded eyes through the curtain of his hair. Suddenly, it was all too much. Diluc’s attention too intimate, leaving him exposed and vulnerable. Venti thought every wrongdoing, every action he ever took that could be perceived as cruel and unjust to be written on his very body, visible for the attentive reader in front of him. The bard did not know what to do with his hands anymore. He squirmed in place, no position seemed comfortable under the scrutinizing gaze of the other.
Embarrassment and shame made his cheeks flare up. He wanted to avert his gaze. He really did. But he couldn’t. Was it so bad if he had to be a little selfish to experience what it meant to be truly free? Was it wrong for him to desire the love and forgiveness of somebody else?
No, Venti decided, it was not wrong or twisted. It was only natural and valid to experience such emotions and as the last notes faded into the night their eyes remained locked.
The way Venti looked at him, with desperation and regret. Too much so like Kaeya had that fateful night, which had burned itself into his mind. He wasn’t ready to relive the memory and he was definitely far from ready to think about the implications this resemblance had. But with the archon opening his mouth, to undoubtedly say something stupid that would kill the mood, Diluc was quick to shut him up. Closing the distance between them he set the lyre aside and reached out to touch Venti’s cheek. The flinch he recieved made him think better of it and he paused in his movement.
"Can I touch your cheek?“, he asked, patiently waiting for the other to give a response. The archon gave a tense nod, but Diluc wasn’t satisfied with that. He wanted a clear yes or no not an automatic response without much thought behind it.
"Can you give me a verbal answer?“, he tried again.
"Yes.“, and when still nothing happened he added,“yes, you can touch my cheek.“
Diluc did as told. Gently placing his hand against Venti’s cheek, lightly applying pressure. Enough to make his intention clear but not enough to force the other to look up. The choice wasn’t his to make.
Venti let his face be guided upwards. The pyrovision user’s thumb ghosting circles over his skin. The contact made Venti feel loved. For a wind spirit he had always been pretty clingy in nature. It just was how he showed affection, besides music of course. That’s exactly why he spread his arms, unafraid of rejection, and asked: "hug?“ Not long after he was engulfed in the warmest, most welcoming hug he could have ever wished for. With Venti still sitting on the bed and Diluc standing the angle was awkward, sure, but that changed nothing about the sentiment. He hid his face in the crook of his neck, the strands of Diluc’s mane hiding him from the world.
"Hey, Venti?“
The other could only manage a grumble as a response, warmth and safety lulling him to sleep despite the awkward position.
"Happy early birthday I guess.“ He squeezed the bard a little tighter to accentuate his words of congratulation.
Venti could feel the low laugh from Diluc long before he heard it. In fact, he could feel everything. The slight shifting of the muscles, every inhale and exhale, Diluc’s heartbeat mirroring his own elevated one. Of course, it was the same for Diluc. But Venti did not mind. There was noone else he would rather share these little moments with. They were far and few between but if there was a possibility to experience them on a daily basis then he would take it.
Except, there was. He knew that.
Confrontation just wasn’t his strong suit.
With no indication of Diluc ever ending the hug Venti took it upon himself to do it. Being sure that the pose wasn‘t the most comfortable one. They didn’t part much, only enough for both of them to straighten their backs. In a sense, they were still connected, even if only through their touching thighs or their intertwined hands.
Newfound determination to go through with his freshly formed plan made him lightly squeeze the others hand thinking it would be easier to go through with his plan if the pyro vision user wasn’t looking at him with this honeydew gaze. Scooping up all of the liquid courage he still had left he took a deep breath.
Now or never.
"Can I kiss you?“
It appeared he had made a small miscalculation. Diluc‘s eyes snapping back to his own, suprise evident in his normally reserved face, was for some reason even worse than having them on him in the first place and he fought the desire to close his own.
Another miscalculation happened to be his naive believe that his scooped up courage would last him long enough to at least get to Diluc’s answer. But with the redhead staring at him open-mouthed the courage seemed to seep through every hole and crack until nothing was left.
I regret this. I regret this. I regret this.
It was the only thing echoing though his mind. Well, that wasn’t quite right, it was the most prominent thing echoing through his mind. Right next to how much he wanted to evaporate and how stupid he was for thinking he could have more instead of being happy with what he already had.
Once the initial turmoil had settled Venti noticed that Diluc hadn’t pulled away, hands still intertwined, thighs still touching. His face also wasn’t contorted with anger, disgust or pity. No, there was a smirk on his face.
Now, why was this man smirking?
"Arent you going to go through with your words?“
The bards eyes got impossible wide and his mouth opened in shock. There was no doubt in Venti’s mind that he was looking absolutely stupid right now. The thought gave him the strength to catch himself.
"Huh? Of course I’m– What makes you think I wouldn’t go through with it?“ Venti huffed out a breath, arms crossed over his chest as he defiantly stared at Diluc.
"Alright, do it then. I’m waiting.“
Diluc's smirk made no indication of leaving soon and honestly it pissed Venti off. He assessed the distance between Dilucs and his own face and came to the conclusion that is was impossible for him in their position to initiate their little intimate moment. How exactly did Diluc think Venti would go about it if he was leaning back a bit, back straight with his arms crossed over his chest. Venti huffed, now full on pouting whilst staring defiantly into Diluc’s way too smug visage.
Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing, Venti thought.
"And how am I supposed to kiss you if you’re so far away from me? You’re doing it on purpose I just know it.“
And this man, this perfect, stupid, most arrogant man had the audacity to answer, "You’re smart, you’ll figure it out,“ somehow still making himself even taller.
So Venti did the only thing he could think of. With a swing of his arms he summoned a wind current right inside the room heaving Diluc and himself into the air. The bards clothes seemed to defy gravity as he and and the claymore wielder slowly levitated back down. Dilucs back hit the soft cushions of his bed and as Venti settled comfortably on his lap a small puff of air escaped him. Not leaving time to let the taller recover Barbatos leaned forward capturing the others lips with his own. Though the smile adorning his face made it difficult for them to fit together.
The kiss was nothing like he has imagined. Slow, soft and a bit stiff but perfect nonetheless. Separating he felt Diluc try to chase after his lips wanting to enjoy their newly formed connection a while longer. Alas, Venti had something else on is mind as he was the one to lean back and simply revel in the view.
"You look like the cat that ate the canary,“ he said huffing out a laugh.
"A canary I was chasing for some time indeed.“
Rolling his eyes the redhead pulled the other back down to catch him another kiss. Faster, stronger more passionate, leaving him hot and bothered and yearning for more. A blissful sigh left his lips as soon as they separated long enough to catch their bearings.
"This is heaven. And I would know with being Barbatos and so on and so forth. But, jokes aside, and I want to accentuate this, I love you."
The "I love you too" of his heartstring almost got swallowed whole by the love hungry mouth of a certain noisy bard.