Work Text:
Kaeya regarded the keep looming before him with trepidation. It was larger than he’d imagined, almost as large as Mondstadt itself, and so unnaturally quiet that he could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his chest. Even the most seasoned of adventurers would have known better than to tread foot in this Gods-forsaken place, but Kaeya had come here with purpose and he wouldn’t let the mere sight of the castle cow him into leaving.
He crept closer, casting his eye over every inch of the keep he could see from his vantage point. It was by no means a pleasant sight, but it did hold a poignant sort of beauty in its decrepit walls. He hadn’t seen anything quite like it: battlements that towered so high into the air that some scraped the roof of the cavern; winged gargoyles spotted along the entrance, standing tall and proud; a near absence of windows, and the castle itself seemed to erupt from the cavern wall, the stone clawing around it like spidered fingers. The absence of natural life hadn’t denied the wealthy of Khaenri'ah shows of extravagance.
It must have been phenomenal in its prime, before the cataclysm had rendered what little greenery it’d been able to boast withered and skeletal, before it’d scrubbed away the polish of the stone and turned the cobblestone ground mottled and dark. He stood at the entrance and took in the vast emptiness of the place, the preternatural stillness, and shivered. All life that had lingered following Khaenri'ah’s downfall had rotted away, out of existence. There was nothing left but stone, and much of it was hot and inhospitable.
It was hard to imagine anything living here, but Kaeya had heard the stories of this keep and the beast that resided within its castle, how it would demand one Khaenri'ah resident every few years in exchange for its protection - a protection his people neither wanted nor needed, but the protection was as much from the beast as it was the monsters that plagued them, so they’d little choice in the matter. In his youth, the beast had been little more than a tale, something he and his friends had whispered amongst themselves to test each other’s mettle, and he hadn’t found out otherwise until recently. Having spent much of his life in Mondstadt, he’d been too far from Khaenri'ah to be informed at the traditional age of sixteen.
Considering he’d achieved nothing during his time in Mondstadt, he felt this was the least he could do for his people. He wasn’t quite the ‘last hope’ his father had intended him to be; he just hadn’t had it in him to betray a nation he now called home, but he could at least relieve Khaenri'ah of this burden. Or die trying, he supposed, but considering most Khaenri'ah residents weren’t esteemed Cavalry Captains, he thought he had a decent chance of success.
He idled his fingers over the smooth pommel of his sword as he stepped through the courtyard. The castle entrance looked not unlike a gaping maw, the row of archways guiding one’s path acting as the jaw and the twisted vines encircling them its jagged, rotting teeth. He could only imagine how terrifying this journey must have been for those sent as a sacrifice. This place looked and felt so wrong that even a solider like Kaeya was uneasy.
He took care not to venture near the vines on his way through, because the thorns they bore looked frail, but they had to be anything but to have survived so long. He didn’t need the beast to get first blood through the plant life, of all things.
At the end of the pathway stood a door, towering and intricately decorated. Metal, of course, so it would better weather use. He stepped up to it and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of earth and decay and willing his trembling heart to calm. He’d faced many beasts in his time as a knight of Favonius, but none, he suspected, as fearsome as the one that resided here, so he would need his composure if he was to have any chance of victory. Once calm had reinstated itself, he drew his sword, letting it hang down beside his thigh.
He went for the handle and gave it a push, meeting no resistance. The door fell open with a bellowing creak, unveiling an entrance hall dimly lit by a candelabra that hung from a far-off ceiling. He stepped slowly inside and cast his eyes over the marble floor. Just like the exterior, it was beautiful, if in a poignant manner, and again he wondered what it must have looked like in its prime, when the marble had been polished and the walls devoid of spiderwebs and wear.
He examined each dark corner of the room, searching them for the beast, and found nothing. Just spiderwebs and dust and hallways too dim to see to the end. There was a staircase at the end of the entrance hall, broad and regal, but there was no one waiting at the landing for him and nothing to be seen beyond the banister. He’d expected to dive right into battle the moment he stepped through the door.
“Is this really how you greet your guests?” he called, not expecting an answer. So, naturally, he got one.
“Those who rudely forgo knocking, yes,” came a soft,normal voice, not a hint of a growl in it. Deceptively normal, Kaeya was sure.
He turned in a slow circle in search of the source, but again, found nothing.
“Then I apologise.” He tightened his grip on his sword handle and strained his ears for some indication of where the beast was, but it was hard in such a spacious room, which sent his voice echoing back at him. “I can do knocking of some other kind to make it up to you.”
The beast made an unamused sound. “With that?” he asked, and Kaeya felt long, cool fingers coil around his wrist without so much as a whisper of footsteps to announce the beasts approach. “You’ve come severely under armed.”
Kaeya attempted to spin on the spot, only to be stopped by the broad body of the beast. The man, he corrected himself, because even restrained as he was, he could see enough of his assailant to recognise he wasn’t bestial in the least. He was tall, red-haired, pale, and had a face that bordered on delicate despite clearly being older than Kaeya. Just a normal, if powerfully built man, whose grip was preternaturally strong.
“You haven’t come armed at all,” he retorted, though it was clear the man’s strength was more than enough to serve him on the battlefield. He attempted to snap a foot against the beasts knee only to find himself being tossed bodily across the room, back slamming into the staircase hard enough to drive all the air from his lungs. Pain racketed through his spine and ribs and he couldn’t so much as groan about it. He gathered himself onto his hands and knees, lightly feeling his chest for injuries with the hand that wasn’t white-knuckled around the hilt of his sword.
All the while, the beast watched him from the middle of the room and could not have looked more apathetic. It might have stung his pride a little if he hadn’t been occupied with making sure he hadn’t broken any ribs.
“I don’t need weaponry for paltry opponents.” He started to advance on Kaeya and Kaeya hastened to clamber to his feet. He braced himself against the railing and raised his sword. “I won’t kill you,” added the beast. “You’ll get your month here, like the others, but I will deprive you of your weapons so to discourage this sort of pointless flailing.”
“You’re not a very considerate host,” said Kaeya.
The beast regarded him drily. “You aren’t being a very considerate guest, so I think it’s only fair.” Then he surged for Kaeya, almost too fast for Kaeya to duck and roll out of the way.
Kaeya turned while still on the ground, aiming to thrust the blade into the beasts stomach and send his viscera spilling, but the beast stopped just shy of the point and grabbed the sword in one black-gloved hand, hauling it out of his grip with ease. Kaeya went tumbling forward as a consequence, just barely managing to catch himself on a knee.
“As I said: you’ll get your month here, like the others,” said the beast as he stepped in a slow circle around Kaeya, impassive as ever. He gave the sword a swing as he walked and Kaeya barely managed to restrain a flinch at the sound of it cutting the air. “If you still wish to fight, you’ll have an opportunity at the end. But I don’t advise it. You’ll just make your death slower.”
Kaeya wasn’t quite able to suppress a shiver. “Why a month?” he asked as he straightened, regarding the beast warily. His back and chest throbbed with developing bruises.
“Because that’s what time I extend every visitor.” The beast slid the sword into his belt and crossed his arms. “I don’t discriminate, even against particularly annoying guests.” He gave Kaeya a pointed look.
“A month to do what, exactly?” he asked. Was this some kind of game? Was the beast going to challenge him to escape? Subject him to horrors? No one had survived a visit here, ergo, no one knew why the beast called people down. Most assumed it was to eat them. As far as they knew, there was nothing else in this castle the beast could subsist on.
“Break my curse,” said the beast, and that was definitely not the answer Kaeya had expected.
“You know,” he said slowly, looking the beast up and down. Who, again, wasn’t very beastly. Utterly unremarkable, in fact, right down to his clothes, which were a simple dress shirt and trousers. “You don’t look very beast-like.”
“Not at current, I don’t.” The beast ran his tongue along his teeth, which were just as normal as the rest of him. “But I am cursed, despite appearances. I suggest you remain in your room from eight until six if you don’t want to find out what exactly the curse entails.”
“Who said I’ll be staying?” asked Kaeya, eyebrows cocked.
Irritation crossed the beasts face. “If you decide to try to leave the castle, you’ll do so at your own risk. You wouldn’t be the first to try, and I am no longer patient enough to simply drag my visitors back inside before the beast goes after them.”
He didn’t particularly want to find out whether this ‘dragging’ involved claws. “You’re a really, really awful host,” said Kaeya with a titter.
Instead of responding, the beast turned and started to walk, gesturing over his shoulder for Kaeya to follow, and Kaeya didn’t see much point in refusing seeing as the beast had thoroughly and effortlessly trounced him.
“So, this curse,” said Kaeya. “Care to fill me in? It’s going to be a little hard to break with as little information as you’ve given me.”
The beast sighed, like this entire encounter was a chore, and started to trudge his way up the stairs. “Don’t step out of your room between eight to six. That’s all you’re getting until you prove worthy of further information. I don’t wish to waste my breath on someone who might not survive more than a day.”
“Maybe people would be more likely to survive if you weren’t so tight-lipped,” said Kaeya, and the beast made a distinctly annoyed sound.
“I’ve had enough visitors to know otherwise.” At the landing, the beast gestured down the left hall. It was long and so dark Kaeya couldn’t make out anything beyond a few feet, which made it startling when the candles abruptly lit as the beast approached it. “Dinner is at six. There are enough clocks throughout the castle that I expect you to be punctual. If you manage to miss dinner, you simply won’t eat.”
“Right. Understood.” He touched his tongue to his bottom lip as he followed at the beasts heels. The hallway was just as beautifully decorated as the rest of the castle, with marble flooring and weathered paintings hanging sporadically. He eyed the torches attached to the wall, trying to discern how they’d come alive without manual effort, but he could see nothing unusual about them. When he ventured to touch one of them as they passed, they didn’t feel any different than your average torch either. “So… definitely no explanation for this yet?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” said the beast.
“Or what?” said Kaeya. “You already said I had a month.”
“It doesn’t have to be a pleasant month,” said the beast, and the laugh Kaeya gave was just a touch nervous. He didn’t want to find out what an unpleasant month entailed after the man had casually bruised his entire torso. Kaeya might’ve had a mouth on him, but he wasn’t devoid of a self-preservation instinct.
“Oh, I can’t wait for dinner.” Kaeya laughed again, a little more genuine this time. “I’ve never dined with a captor before, nor someone so inhospitable. I bet it’ll be memorable.”
The beast made a sound that Kaeya could only describe as the verbal equivalent of an eye roll. “Are you going to be this talkative the entire time you’re here?”
“Considering how isolated this place is, I would have thought you’d appreciate the conversation.”
“It’s the quality of it that bothers me.”
Kaeya touched a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “Ouch. Well, you have a month to get used to it, assuming I don’t break the curse before then.”
“I have no confidence that you’ll break it at all,” said Diluc, then he came to a stop before a broad metal door. It was already ajar, so he just toed it open and invited Kaeya inside with a flourish of his arm. “Your quarters. Remember: dinner at six. You’ll find the dining hall to the left of the entrance, at the end of the hall.”
The moment Kaeya had stepped through the threshold, the door was closed on him. He swung back around to check that it hadn’t been locked, and finding he could still work the handle, he gave a sigh of relief and turned his attention to the interior of the room. Despite how clearly aged it was, it was a nicer room than Kaeya had ever been in, far superior to his room in the Knights of Favonius. The bed was massive and there was beautiful furniture pressed up against every wall; a set of drawers, a dresser, a full-body mirror, several bookcases, and a broad desk with a lamp, clock, writing utensils, and paper on it. Under his feet was the same marble flooring as in the rest of the castle, but the bed had been graced with a surprisingly plush rug, which sunk under his feet as he strode deeper into his room.
On the far-left wall, two windows took up a good quarter of the room, displaying the castle grounds and the ravaged Khaenri’ah, which stretched on into the horizon. Even from this distance, Kaeya could see the dot of campfires and the monsters surrounding them and faintly make out the shields of abyss mages. The entire city remained a mess from the invasion all those years ago, monsters continuing to pop up no matter how many were slain, but still his people persisted, tried to survive and rebuild. As far as Kaeya was concerned, it was a pointless effort. There was no recovering from the cataclysm.
He tore his gaze away and wandered up to the desk, picking through the papers sitting on it. They were old, yellowed, and a little dog-eared, but usable. The ink pot looked fresh, so his host must have refilled it recently. As far as he knew, his people didn’t provide the beast food, nor other resources, so it was a wonder where he got everything.
He lowered himself into the desk chair – a very comfortable chair indeed – and began to pick at the books on the desk, just to see what his priors had indulged in before their death. Fairy tales, alchemy, poetry, and there was a little leather-bound book he glanced through and found to be handwritten. A diary, he realised. It contained a total of three entries. That must have been all they’d managed before being slaughtered, and Kaeya couldn’t help shuddering a little at the thought he was handling a diary of someone who had been killed in this very castle.
He began to read.
To whoever is reading this, hello. My name is Janice. I’m nineteen years old and I’m a cook. I hoped to bring Khaenri'ah dishes to the rest of Teyvat and show the world we still have culture here, but I guess that’s unlikely to happen now that I’ve been chosen as the next sacrifice. I guess that will suffice as an introduction.
The beast looks very normal, doesn’t he? I thought so too. But he tells me he is a beast, and that it will kill me if I don’t break the curse, and considering no one has ever come back after being sent here, I’m inclined to believe him.
He has a very cold demeanour. I could barely squeeze out a few words to him, afeared as I was. He says I’m to dine with him tonight, but I’m a little reluctant… I would rather just take my meals in this room, but I get the feeling he won’t agree to that if I ask. Maybe he’s lonely and that’s why he wants to dine together? I’m not sure. It’s hard to gauge what kind of person he is this early on.
I should have more to report later.
She’d drawn a thick line beneath this entry, continuing in a slightly more harried scrawl beneath it.
He’s at the door. He’s telling me to come out. At dinner, Diluc – ah, so his name was Diluc - said I shouldn’t go out after eight, so this must be the beast? He sounds a little too friendly and kind to be the beast, though. He’s politely suggesting we have evening tea and talk. But I should stay inside, shouldn’t I? Diluc said I should. Maybe I’ll go and say hello, at least. I’ll just speak through the door. That ought to be safe.
The entry ended there. Kaeya flicked to the next one.
Diluc seemed annoyed about me talking to the beast. He said it was inadvisable, but frankly, he’s less open and personable than the beast is, so I don’t think I’ll stop. Maybe the beast just needs to be spoken to. Maybe it’ll be less of a beast with a friend. It’s worth a shot, right? I bet no one else has tried to befriend him before. He must be lonely. You’d have to be after being trapped in an empty castle for years on end.
It’s eight o’clock. I’m talking to the beast as I write, and he’s as friendly as he was the prior night. I’m still a little nervous to peek out, but I do feel less afraid while talking to the beast. I’m less afraid of him than Diluc, which doesn’t seem quite right.
I asked the beast if he really was the beast, or if Diluc is, and he just said something weird and cryptic. Maybe that’s part of the curse; maybe he can’t tell me exactly how it works. Could it be that the one who speaks to me in the day is the actual beast?
The last entry. Kaeya swallowed as he read.
Diluc rolled his eyes when I suggested he’s the actual beast. He said he never told me he wasn’t the beast. He didn’t tell me anything more than that, though, even when I tried to press. Gently, of course, because angering him seems inadvisable.
I think I’ll open the door tonight, just to take a peek.
The rest of the page was blank. Kaeya set the diary aside, his blood cold and the fine hairs on his nape and arms standing on end. He scrubbed his hands over his face and stood, deciding his time would be better spent on not dwelling on what exactly had ended those diary entries. He would, however, take care to listen to Diluc after reading that. The man might have been reserved and dismissive, but his warning was probably sincere.
There was little else of interest in the room. He found a few things belonging to past occupants; some clothes, a pouch full of withered herbs, a knife holster, a lamp, and a lute, but nothing he could put to use. His search moved beyond the room and the torches didn’t light up like they did for Diluc, so he brought the lamp out with him. Most of what he found were locked doors. It was apparent Diluc didn’t do much wandering of his castle. He probably just kept to a few specific rooms, and when Kaeya did eventually find unlocked doors, all he uncovered were a few empty rooms and another bedroom, though this one was unused.
He happened to glance at a clock during his wanderings and realised it was past six. Just by a few minutes, but Diluc had told him to be punctual, and he certainly wasn’t being. Turning, he prepared to barrel down the hall to the dining room and promptly went running into Diluc instead, who stood there like a statue as Kaeya went bouncing off him. He regarded Kaeya dispassionately as Kaeya lay sprawled on the floor.
“I told you not to be late,” said Diluc, voice cold and impatient.
Kaeya groaned as he forced himself upright. “You also told me I’d miss dinner if I was late, and presumably you’re here to escort me, so it can't have been that important.”
Diluc wrinkled his nose and turned. “You have sixty seconds. Start running.”
“Are you serious-?” Oh, of course he was. Diluc clearly wasn’t the sort to make jokes.
It was less the food than the opportunity to assail Diluc with questions that compelled Kaeya to move. He clambered to his feet and hurried down the hall and stairs with as much dignity as possible, counting down from sixty in his head. When he arrived in the appropriate room, it was with less than five seconds remaining, and also to an incredible feast. He’d never seen so much food: roast chicken, lamb chops, steak, potato salad, radish balls, grilled fish, ratatouille, sweet and savoury pies, cupcakes, and jelly. They all appeared to be freshly cooked, many of the hot dishes still steaming. How Diluc had managed to arrange all this was beyond him, but he wouldn’t look a gift horse in a mouth. If he was going to die here, he’d prefer to eat well beforehand.
A place had been prepared for him at the end opposite Diluc, but Kaeya had no desire to spend their time together shouting across the table, so he whisked the plate and cutlery into his arms and transferred them to a chair closer to Diluc. Upon seeing that Kaeya had relocated himself, Diluc paused and stared at him from the dining room entrance, his eyebrows slanted and mouth a thin line, but he didn’t complain; just sat down and began filling his plate.
“So,” said Kaeya, helping himself to a serving of roast. It tasted as good as it looked, moist and well-seasoned, and he eagerly piled more food onto his plate. “Are you always this excessive when dining with your guests or am I just getting special treatment?”
Diluc snorted and forked a portion of beef into his mouth. “I always provide myself variety. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Mhm,” said Kaeya, a sound that clearly conveyed his disbelief. “And how do you provide meals like these?”
“The same way I light torches without touching them,” said Diluc, dismissive.
“And you do that by…?”
“Being in the vicinity of them,” said Diluc.
Kaeya had to chuckle at the dedication to secrecy. “How long will it take you to be more forthcoming? I will be asking questions regardless, so you’ll want to consider at least answering a few.”
“You’re trying to blackmail me with your silence?” Diluc regarded him quietly for a long moment, his expression contemplative, and Kaeya began to worry that he’d pressed too hard before the man abruptly continued. “Since you’re so persistent, I will offer you one answer per night you survive.”
“One question for surviving death?” said Kaeya, then, deeply sarcastic, “How generous.”
“Be glad you’re getting that much,” Diluc threw back. He started forking further meat onto his plate. Quite the carnivore, wasn’t he? It was almost all he’d eaten so far, though he had picked at a few of the salads with significantly less enthusiasm. Perhaps turning into a beast had given him a taste for meat, which was a somewhat unsettling thought.
“I’m under no obligation to be glad for anything, given the circumstances,” said Kaeya. “But I do appreciate the effort to be a little hospitable,” he added, because he was relatively sure this was more than most visitors got. Janice had sounded just as confused in her first entry as she had her last.
“You’re welcome,” said Diluc, before lapsing into yet another silence. This time, Kaeya suspected it had something to do with Diluc being uncertain of how to approach conversation after so long in isolation, since his shoulders were in a tight line.
There was little Kaeya loathed more than awkward silences, so he only managed to persevere through the clatter and clink of cutlery for a few moments before interrupting. “You’re a fine fighter,” he said. “Did you teach yourself?”
“No,” said Diluc, and he didn’t elaborate, to Kaeya’s dismay. Getting this man to talk was like pulling teeth.
“Who taught you?”
“I don’t see how this line of questioning is going to help you with the curse,” said Diluc, eyeing him.
“I’m just making conversation, dear host,” said Kaeya. “So, who taught you?”
“I don’t like talking of my history. There’s no point in dwelling on such things.”
Kaeya cast his eyes over Diluc, head tipped curiously. Those broad shoulders of his had jumped up another inch. “It was before the curse, was it?”
All Diluc managed in response was a grunt. That was as close to an affirmative as he was going to get, Kaeya expected.
“You miss it, hm?” he said. “Where exactly are you-?”
Diluc released his knife and fork with a clatter that reverberated through the room. He stood, and with a wave of his hand his food disappeared, along with any remnants of it. The plate was left completely clean.
“I’ve lost my appetite,” said Diluc. “If you find yourself bored, there’s a library. I’ll leave you to find it yourself.”
Before Kaeya could wrangle his way out of his chair to pursue, Diluc was gone. After some minutes, the food followed suit, disappearing from the table like it’d never been there at all, not so much as a smudge from the grease visible on any of the cutlery.
Well then. If he wanted to be fed, he’d have to take care when asking any questions pertaining to Diluc’s history. At least he hadn’t been left without some idea of where he could spend his time, though that would have to wait until later. Right now, he’d have under an hour and a half with which to locate the library, and Kaeya didn’t fancy getting lost and ending up being torn asunder on his first night. He’d look tomorrow, after breakfast. There were plenty of books in the room to read until then.
With stomach nowhere near as full as he would have liked, Kaeya retreated to his room. It was easy enough to find thanks to just about every other door around it being locked. The first thing he did upon stepping inside was test if the bed felt as luxurious as it looked, spreading out beneath the quilt and finding that it wasn’t unlike lying on a cloud- or at least, the kind of cloud that existed in one's imagination, soft and fluffy rather than wet and cold. He rumbled his appreciation and quickly swiped a book from the desk, eager to languish in the bed after his lengthy journey here. Not only had the trek from Mondstadt to Khaenri'ah been an arduous one, but the journey here had taken several hours courtesy of the monsters one inevitably encountered on the way. He’d been a little bruised and battered even before Diluc had sent him flying across the room like a sack of potatoes.
He flicked through the book, but he ended up thinking more than he did reading. Again, he couldn’t help pondering Diluc’s appearance, how normal he looked, how approachable. And he definitely wasn’t a native of Khaenri’ah, because he lacked many of the defining features. He seemed more like a Mondstadt native, with the same eye shape, a similar pallor, a slight accent, and Mondstadt had been one of the first to try to repel the cataclysm, so perhaps he’d been among those soldiers. It wasn’t unusual for people who didn’t know how to traverse these lands to end up cursed rather than slain. The curse was so profound in some areas that his people had generated cave-ins to stifle the virility, and there would have been a great many more of those locations around had Diluc been among the first outsiders to venture here.
Once he’d curried Diluc’s favour, or at least improved his current standing with the man, he would tentatively question his background. He might not want to discuss his history, but perhaps his homeland would be a little more palatable. He’d be careful not to waste his question on it though, because it was doubtful the man’s history would contribute significantly to uncovering the solution to his curse. It would just be supplemental.
Kaeya let the book slip to his sternum and frowned up at the ceiling. Considering how long Diluc had been trying to break that curse and how many had tried prior to Kaeya, he was… doubtful about his chances. Dozens of people had been in his exact position, and all of them had failed, and Kaeya wasn’t so conceited that he would believe himself more capable than every single person that had come before him. This wouldn’t prevent him from trying, but my, did it make his chances feel dismal.
If he felt this way, he could only imagine how utterly despondent Diluc was at this point, after years of trying and failing to break his curse. It was really no wonder he was such a socially inept sourpuss.
In his peripheral vision, he saw the clock hit eight, and his attention darted across to his door. It was currently shut, and since Diluc had implied the beast wasn’t able to open it on his own, Kaeya expected it would remain that way. He wouldn’t get to look at the beast, but perhaps something about it could be gleaned by listening, so Kaeya threw his legs over the side of the bed and crept closer, his ears perked. It wasn’t long before he heard the rhythmic thud of approaching footsteps. They became louder, and louder, until finally they were replaced by slow, whistling breaths, clearly drawn in through the mouth.
It was a long time before the beast spoke.
“I apologise for how impolite I was at dinner,” said the beast. “May I come in? We can discuss what happened.”
Just as the diary had said, the beast spoke in Diluc’s voice. It would have been indistinguishable if not for its friendly quality. Diluc had never sounded this personable.
Kaeya said nothing, listening intently.
“I know you’re awake,” said the beast, and Kaeya swallowed. “I can hear you breathing.”
“What happened to the girl?” he asked.
The beast made a thoughtful sound, perhaps remembering all the girls it’d slain. “The girl?”
“Janice,” said Kaeya. “She wrote a diary. What did you do to her?”
“Oh.” The beast started to laugh, low and cold. It was an unpleasant sound, enough to make Kaeya’s heart pulse with unease. “You’re a knight of some sort, aren’t you? You have a better chance of repelling me than a little girl. Why don’t you invite me in and see? You were so eager to battle when you arrived.”
Kaeya briefly considered glancing through the keyhole, but decided against it, because he was worried about what he would see. “Give me a little credit. I’m not going to let you in just because you asked politely.”
“You should reconsider.” The beasts voice came soft and cloying. “Let me in. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”
“I think I’ll pass.” Kaeya returned to the bed and sat on the edge, listening to the beast speak.
“Let me in,” it said, over and over. “Let me in. Let me in.”
It became background noise, a mantra Kaeya couldn’t block out completely no matter what he turned his mind to. He lay in bed, listening to its soft, dulcet tones, so unusual for a beast, yet he could see why people had come to trust it.
When it came time to sleep, he curled his pillow around his head and squeezed his eyes shut, and somehow, miraculously, he did manage to fall into a fitful slumber.
There was no such thing as waking up comfortable this deep in Khaenri'ah. With molten chasms ripping through most of it, Khaenri'ah was perpetually sweltering and the interior of a castle even more so. When Kaeya awoke, he did so with a thin sheen of sweat and a groan that felt far too dry. His nose and ears were sore, probably bright pink from the heat, and he kicked off his blanket to soothe them before he felt brave enough to venture out.
He was tempted to find some water to douse himself with before he headed down to breakfast, but that would be rather impolite and undignified, wouldn’t it? And it wouldn’t be long before he adapted to the heat, anyway. He pulled on his shoes and headed downstairs for breakfast.
Diluc hadn’t given him a time for this meal, so he assumed it a little less stringent than dinner. He stepped into the dining hall with stomach uncomfortably empty and was pleased to find a spread already available. Smaller than the one he’d seen at dinner, but no less impressive, boasting bacon, eggs, toast, beans, pancakes, breakfast sausages, pots of tea and juices, bowls of fresh fruit and a platter of breakfast pastries.
It was hard to tell if this was done at all for Kaeya’s sake or if this was simply Diluc indulging in one of the few comforts this place afforded him. If he had nothing else to look forward to, indulging in the one thing he did have made sense. Though this much food did feel incredibly excessive for two people, and he couldn’t imagine Diluc was so wasteful that he would eat like this every single day.
He took up his usual place beside Diluc, which Diluc had helpfully set up for him this time. “Not one of the better nights of sleep I’ve had,” he said as way of greeting. The pancakes looked incredibly moist, so they were what he began his meal with. “Does the beast incessantly repeat his demands to every guest, or did I rub him the wrong way?”
“The latter,” said Diluc, his tone slightly less lethargic than usual. “I don’t appear to appreciate your wit in either form.”
“Don’t you?” Kaeya’s mouth tipped into a smile. “I think it’s growing on you.”
“I’m sure you think many things, and I won’t dissuade you from your idiocy.”
“Charming as ever, Diluc,” said Kaeya with a snort. He forked a portion of pancake into his mouth, and it was so soft that it practically melted there. He eagerly cut himself a larger bite. “So, I believe you owe me a question.”
Diluc burst the yolk of an egg with his fork, glancing at Kaeya through half-lidded eyes. “Go on.”
“How does this curse work?” he asked, much to Diluc’s dismay.
“That’s a question with a very broad answer,” said Diluc, audibly annoyed. “I don’t know entirely how this curse works, in any case.”
“You know more than me, and that’s enough.” Kaeya slathered some butter and jam on his pancake before pressing on. “So, how does it work?”
Diluc fell into a contemplative silence, swivelling his fork through the mess of his breakfast. “You already know the basics,” he said, finally. “I turn into a monster come night and recover my faculties in the morning, and I – or the beast, rather – brings people here to try to break the curse, since I am unable to do it myself. That is inherent knowledge, rather than anything I had to learn through strings of failures.” He ate a slither of his egg, then continued. “And the beast and I are not separate entities, if you’re wondering. The beast is simply… a side of me. I suppose, what I would be if I had no inhibitions or scruples.”
“They seem an entirely different person to me, voice aside,” said Kaeya, leaning his chin on a palm.
Diluc shrugged a shoulder. “We all have some hidden rot in our hearts.”
“I suppose we do,” agreed Kaeya. “Is there any reason it’s only my people you’ve sought help from?” He could make an educated guess, but he wanted to hear Diluc's answer.
“I would have thought that obvious,” said Diluc, his voice wry. “I’m bound to this land and to this castle. I doubt I’m the only cursed being with that restriction either. The monsters that spilled into the rest of Teyvat were the lucky ones.” He looked absently down at his plate. “But you don’t need to worry. You might not be able to kill me, but your people are dwindling in number, moving away, and eventually this place will be forgotten, along with everything in it.”
Kaeya regarded him quietly. He didn’t sound as though he’d any hope of avoiding that endless end. “How long have you been stuck here?” he asked, despite knowing he no longer had the right to further queries.
Diluc didn’t seem to care. Too lost in thought, perhaps. “I don’t know,” he said. “Long enough for things to have become vague.” Another bite of his food, though he didn’t appear to have enough presence of mind to taste it. “I spend much of my time sleeping, seeing as I have little else to occupy it with, so my days blur together and make time difficult to track. Until I have a guest, obviously.”
What a pitiful existence. Kaeya felt sorry for him, but just a little. He was a prisoner here, after all, and it wouldn’t do for him to be too sympathetic to his warden.
“What do you remember?” he asked, out of simple curiosity.
Diluc waved him off and returned to his food. “That’s enough for now. Eat your breakfast.”
It was a really, really nice breakfast, so Kaeya had no problem obliging this particular demand. He had thirty days left to satiate his curiosity. That was more than enough, and maybe, hopefully he’d get to the bottom of the curse while he was at it. Or die trying, which seemed the more likely outcome.
He made quick work of three pancakes and a plate of bacon and eggs, chasing it all down with a gulp of icy apple juice. Full and comfortable, Kaeya rose from his seat with a stretch. “How about an escort to this library of yours?” he asked, cocking his eyebrows at Diluc. More than anything, he wanted to indulge in the man’s company, and pry some more information out of him, if possible.
Diluc didn’t look up at him when replying. “I told you to find it yourself.”
“And your mood hasn’t improved since then?”
“No.”
“Liar,” said Kaeya, crossing his arms, but Diluc just leaned over and served himself the remainder of the eggs, ignoring Kaeya. “Really?” he pressed. “Is your schedule that full?”
At this, Diluc cast him a glare, his fiery eyes narrowed to slits, and Kaeya was quick to throw up his hands in a placating gesture. Not the most tactful thing to say, he would admit. Sometimes his tongue got ahead of him.
“Very well. Thank you for breakfast, Diluc.” He toed his chair back under the table and headed for the exit. “These spreads are exceptional.”
He was in no hurry as he strode through the castles various halls, no particular path in mind. He was sure if he wandered enough, he’d come across the library eventually. And until then, there was sure to be other rooms of interest.
Just like the prior night, he encountered many a locked door, and since most were non-descript, he suspected some were rooms he’d already attempted to get into. He did locate a storage room, which he picked around for a few minutes, examining withered brooms and buckets and peeking into barrels that might have once held liquor, but it wasn’t long before he lost interest and ventured back out. For the castle of a beast, it was surprisingly… unclimactic. Pretty, sure: he liked the various landscape paintings hung on the walls and found the Khaenri'ahn architecture interesting, but you’d expect the residence of a beast to be livelier. Have a few skeletons lying about, at the very least.
Or maybe, he thought, the beast ate them whole. That did sound like the sort of thing a beast would do. He shivered and promptly banished that possibility from mind. Thinking about cannibalism really was no way to spend one’s morning (and thinking about the potential of being the next victim of it even less so).
He decided to ascend one more level, since this castle seemed to have about four, maybe five of them, and that wasn’t counting the incredible height of the towers. He expected the library wouldn’t be tucked away too far. It had to be somewhere convenient, after all, and any higher would make the trip from the sleeping quarters tiresome.
He’d almost reached the stairs when a battered door caught his eye. No, not battered- it’d been torn into as though with a blade, deep divots the width of his palm marring the wood. Kaeya bent down and traced one with a finger, finding it smooth, not a grain out of place. It was so unnaturally perfect that it was clear the beasts of Kaeya’s imagination - the ones with fur and snouts and jagged fangs and large, unwieldy claws - were probably not what he was dealing with. Whatever Diluc twisted into under the cover of night, it could be incredibly precise in its destruction.
Though, pushing open the door, he was promptly informed that it could be plenty imprecise as well. The first thing he took note of was the furniture scattered throughout the room, some rent to splinters and others simply torn in half, then his gaze leapt to a mirror sprawled across a torn rug, with its shards bursting from beneath its golden frame and sprinkled generously throughout the room, and finally to a bed that had been torn into a hideous pile of linens and wood. Diluc had clearly been in a poor mood when in this room.
He stepped slowly inside, shards of mirror crunching underfoot, and ran his palm along the lashed underside of a toppled dresser before venturing further in to toe through the remnants of the bed. He paused upon lifting a section of what had once been a blanket, squinting at the stain it had obscured. A dark, almost black stain, with just a hint of red to make it apparent it had once been blood. There was no flakiness to the edges, nothing a patch of blood would usually have, so it must have been very, very old. A stain even time hadn’t been able to wash away.
Had one of Diluc’s victims-? He retreated from the stain with a grimace. It could even belong to Janice, as far as he knew.
Venturing deeper into the room, he soon found that wasn’t the only stain. There were multiple patches throughout, some overlapping each other, others almost stringy in quality. It was hard to imagine what exactly the beast had done to create these messes, which was probably a good thing.
“Peeking into corners you shouldn’t be, I see,” came Diluc’s voice, and Kaeya jumped, spinning around. The man was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed.
“Following me around, I see,” Kaeya shot back, frowning. Diluc didn’t look bothered by this accusation in the least.
“I don’t have to follow guests around to keep an eye on them.” He pushed off the door frame and approached Kaeya. “Are you curious about this room?”
Kaeya cast his eyes over the stains again before responding. “Who died here?”
“No one,” said Diluc, to Kaeya’s surprise. He stopped before the largest of the patches and grazed it with the tip of his boot. “This was the room I slept in when the curse first took hold.”
Kaeya stared down at the red under his feet, the implication of Diluc’s words slowly dawning. “Are you less affected by injuries?” he asked, slowly, with as much tact as possible. “Because this seems like a lot of blood.”
“I do have the average constitution of other monsters, which is higher than that of humans,” said Diluc. “There’s nothing here that will assist you. It’s just a room I ruined on my first night.”
“Why haven’t you cleaned it?” asked Kaeya. It looked like Diluc hadn’t maintained most of the castle, but it still seemed odd that he’d just leave this room untouched, for guests to wander into.
“I kept it as a reminder,” said Diluc. “It is useful to recall a time where I had some degree of control at night. It hasn’t happened since, and I may have convinced myself it never did if I didn’t have this room.”
It was a surprisingly forthcoming answer. It must have been a horrific first night, for Diluc to have mutilated himself. “You want to be understood, don’t you,” he observed, speaking gently, but it wasn’t gentle enough to prevent a rattle from travelling through Diluc.
Diluc turned to Kaeya, coming so close that Kaeya could just about feel the unnatural cold radiating off of him. “You must think yourself very clever and insightful.” He leaned further in and Kaeya held his ground. Diluc’s breath rolled over his chin. “Don’t come to this room again. You are to leave my sleeping quarters, former and current, undisturbed.”
“As you wish,” said Kaeya smoothly. He’d already seen everything there was to see in this room anyway. “Now then,” he pressed on, a sly smile stretching across his lips. “Since I’m liable to go wandering into places you’d rather I didn’t, why don’t you escort me to the library?”
Diluc exhaled through the gaps of his teeth. “Fine,” he said, sounding none-too-happy. In one snap of a movement, he gestured to the door. “It’s on this floor. Follow me.”
Kaeya obligingly slipped out of the room after Diluc and trotted a few feet behind him. “It’s just occurred to me,” he said as they walked. “You never asked my name.” This entire time he might well have been thinking of Kaeya as ‘the prisoner’ or something equally as unpalatable.
“I didn’t see any point,” said Diluc. “I thought you would die the first night.”
“Was my first impression that bad?”
“You don’t want me to answer that.” Diluc glanced over his shoulder at him. “I'll permit you to try for a better one in the library.”
Another opportunity to pry answers out of Diluc. Maybe if he divulged details of his own history, Diluc would feel obligated to share a titbit or two. It was worth a try.
“I expect to survive the whole month, so you can start referring to me by Kaeya,” said Kaeya. “Kaeya Alberich, in full. I had a surrogate parent during my time in Mondstadt, but they’ve always encouraged me to keep my surname.”
Diluc's footsteps paused for all of a second, but it was still long enough for Kaeya to notice. He was nothing if not observant.
“You’re familiar with Mondstadt.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m familiar with all of Teyvat,” said Diluc. “I haven’t spent my entire life in this castle.”
“What came before the castle?” asked Kaeya, and he wasn’t surprised when Diluc didn’t answer. “Come to think of it,” he began, voice casual. “A party of Mondstadt soldiers came here after the-“
“We’re here,” interrupted Diluc, spreading his hands over a set of towering double doors. Diluc gave them a great push and any desire to press on with his line of questioning was stolen from Kaeya.
It was a colossal library, and so beautifully decorated too, pure white with lashes of gold to enhance the intricate patterns woven into the walls and bookshelves. His eye was fast drawn to the ceiling, where someone had painted a sky so detailed it was as though one could reach up and feel the chill of the clouds. Khaenri'ahn’s might have lived underground, but they still enjoyed the aesthetic of a bright blue sky on a sunny day. That was one of the things that had appealed to Kaeya most in Mondstadt, at least before he discovered alcohol: those bright, sunny days, with warm winds and flowers that danced in the breeze. He’d spent many an hour marvelling at the sky during his first few weeks at Dawn Winery. The maids had often brought snacks and drinks out to him while he did this and being so well-fed had been a new experience too. While his father had tried his best to raise Kaeya with all his needs met, it was difficult when the place you lived was so ravaged.
He swept further into the room, stepping up to the closest bookcase to cast his eyes over the offerings. There was a lot of Khaenri'ahn literature, as one would expect of a castle in Khaenri'ah, but there were books from Mondstadt and Inazuma and Liyue and the like as well, so whoever had lived here prior must not have been a complete homebody. In its prime, Khaenri'ah had been rather isolated from the world, more interested in self-development than forging connections with other nations- or that was what his father told him, anyway. There was no need for Gods like the other nations, he’d said. They'd forged their own prosperity. Khaenri'ah might have been destroyed, but the memory of its achievements remained in the hearts of its people.
He selected a book with gold lettering on its spine purely for how pretty it looked and wandered his way back over to the entrance of the library, eager to renew his questioning. Except, Diluc wasn’t there.
“Diluc?”
His call was met with silence.
He strode slowly through each row of shelves, searching every dark corner of the library for Diluc and finding all of them vacant. Diluc had left. Which wasn’t surprising, because it seemed to be his wont to leave whenever a line of questioning got uncomfortable, but Kaeya was still disappointed. Working more out of Diluc would have to wait until lunch. He glanced at a grandfather clock situated between some shelves to see how long a wait that would be, and he found it was only an hour and a half until noon. Not long at all. Searching the castle had eaten up more time than he’d thought.
While he had the library to himself, he decided to scan the shelves for books of interest and gather them into a pile to be taken back to his room. If he was going to be trapped there all night, he needed entertainment, especially if the beasts efforts to draw him in continued to keep him awake. And they were liable to, because Kaeya intended to question the beast just as thoroughly as he did Diluc. There was a slight chance it might have looser lips than its human counterpart.
The rest of his time in the library was spent marvelling at its opulence, paying particular attention to that beautiful ceiling. It was so detailed, so vast, and had not a single imperfection that Kaeya could see. It really felt like a window to the brightly-lit world beyond Khaenri'ah. Maybe his people had dreamed of forging their own sky, once upon a time, before this became the land of people who dreamed simply of dreaming.
When it came time for lunch, he found Diluc waiting for him in the dining room. Another delicious spread had been laid out, this time featuring sandwiches, salads, confectioneries, pies, skewered meats, and a variety of juices in jugs. Kaeya sat in his usual chair and began filling his plate, glancing furtively at Diluc’s, which was full of meat again.
“Enjoy your meats, don’t you,” said Kaeya, casting Diluc one of his winning smiles.
Diluc said nothing, separating the meat from the vegetables on one of his skewers.
“Have you always enjoyed them to that degree?” he asked.
Again, Diluc said nothing, forking some meat into his mouth.
Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to draw anything out of Diluc during lunch, and dinner proved similarly unproductive. Getting Diluc to talk at all was a chore. Mondstadt must have been a very sensitive topic indeed, for Diluc to withdraw this much. But Diluc did ask him some idle questions. Little things, like what Kaeya’s preferred drink was, and how he’d enjoyed the library, and while they were an obvious effort to control what Kaeya spoke about, Diluc did listen to his answers attentively, with a degree of interest (not a huge degree, but that he was interested at all was a promising development).
He returned to his room a touch put-out by Diluc’s reticence, but the day hadn’t been without its progress. He knew how the curse worked; he knew Diluc had no control over himself during those periods, and he was sure Diluc was from Mondstadt. Probably one of the soldiers that had come after the cataclysm to try to quell the influx of monsters, since there weren’t many other reasons a Mondstadt resident would be found here. According to the history books, that had been an utter failure of an expedition, about as effective as throwing pebbles at a tidal wave. So much pointless loss of life, and perhaps Diluc had been counted among them all this time.
If he had been among them, that meant he’d been stuck here for five hundred years. It was an awful long time to have been trapped. No wonder his social skills were lacking.
After dinner, Kaeya picked through the contents of his room until he found some slightly dusty, but form-fitting pyjamas and threw those on, then crawled into bed with a book. He didn’t get through much of it before the time of the beast arrived.
Three to eight.
Two to eight.
One to eight.
He set his book down and tilted his head toward the door, listening for the beasts approach. He didn’t have to wait long. Within seconds, the steady thump of the beasts feet broke through the silence and came right up to his door, where they were promptly replaced by the beasts whistling breaths.
Kaeya didn’t give it the chance to offer anything in the way of a greeting. The moment the beast had settled into its customary position, he leapt right into questioning it.
“What have other people tried to break the curse?”
There was a long pause before the beast responded, as though processing his gall, then it brayed out a laugh. “Why would I tell you that-?” It tried to say, but Kaeya spoke over it.
“What have other people tried?” he said again, insistent. “Has there ever been any degree of success? Have you tried to break the curse yourself?”
The laughter transitioned into a low, angry rumble, which was a troubling sound, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade Kaeya. As long as the beast was stuck behind that door, he was safe.
“Let me in, Kaeya Alberich,” it said.
“If you really think there’s no breaking the curse, why not just tell me?”
“Let me in.” Its voice was cold, creeping into glacial. “Then I’ll tell you.”
“And kill me,” said Kaeya with a scoff. “If you don’t wish to answer, then so be it. But it’ll be a very long month indeed if you refuse to engage me.”
Instead of an answer, he heard a great boom as the beast slammed its fist – foot? Shoulder? - into the door, sending it shuddering on its hinges so hard that the walls shook with it. Kaeya was perfectly safe on the bed, but he still skittered up to the headboard and pressed his back flat against it, his heart racing.
When he’d had night terrors as a boy, he’d often pressed himself up to the headboard just like this and gazed out into the dark, searching for the monsters that had plagued him throughout his youth in Khaenri'ah. It embarrassed him to be leaning into such a childish reflex now, especially when the beast couldn’t actually do anything to him unless he let it in, but he would have to face that aggression and immense power in a few weeks' time. Provided he didn’t solve the curse before then, of course, but that was such an uncertainty it was only natural to be afraid.
He didn’t want to die in the jaws of a beast. He didn’t want to die at all, but if he was going to die, he didn’t want it to be at the hands of a creature that would probably eviscerate him and then eat him piece by piece.
He took a few deep, calming breaths and curled his nails into his knees until the pain slowed the frantic beating of his heart. He had to stop panicking. The beast couldn’t hurt him. He could figure this out. He didn’t have to die.
“Afraid, little bird?” the beast barked a laugh. “I can smell your fear from here.”
“Oh, can you?” he swallowed thickly. “Well, seems like you’re enjoying it. Perhaps you might do me a considerate gesture in turn?”
The beast snorted. “Persistent, aren’t you.”
“What attempts have there been to break the curse?” he tried again, and the beast snorted again.
“Let me in,” it hissed, thumping against the door. This time, Kaeya heard wood splinter. “Let me in and you’ll have all the answers you seek.”
“No-” began Kaeya. He didn’t get any further than that before the door shook on its hinges and the sound of splintering wood filled the air again, followed by the gentle patter of fragments hitting the floor.
Kaeya’s shoulders squared and he pressed himself even further into the headboard, the patterned wood digging into his shoulders. There would probably be deep indents by morning.
“Maddening little brat,” it snarled. “Let me in! Let me in! Let me in!” The sound of splintering wood became rhythmic, constant. Kaeya stared at the door, scarcely blinking, scarcely breathing, his hands beginning to tremble against his volition.
Don’t be afraid, he told himself. But he was afraid. Terribly afraid. He felt like a child again, haunted by the monsters that infected every corner of Khaenri'ah, but his father was no longer here to shield him from them. He was completely alone, with a furious monster lurking just beyond his door. This was the kind of nightmare that had sent him screaming awake as a child.
“Let me in,” it snarled, over and over, its voice growing progressively louder, angrier, and the strikes through the door were as deafening as thunderclaps now, commanding Kaeya’s full attention. There must have been magic about that door, because it didn’t collapse despite the immense strain the beast was putting it under. Though that could have been surmised by the beasts inability to pass it.
“Let me in,” the beast roared, and Kaeya closed his eye and shook. “Let me in! Let me in! Let me in little bird!”
He didn’t sleep that night.
There was no light to indicate the arrival of dawn, nor did the little wooden clock on the desk make any noise to announce times of day. Dawn announced itself instead through the absence of sound, the snarls of the beast abruptly ceasing. Kaeya waited several long, tense seconds before slowly sliding himself to the edge of the mattress and approaching the door, pressing his ear light against it, listening for the beasts whistling breaths. But he heard none. The only sound filtering into the room was that of a man breathing, and that prompted Kaeya to reach for the doorknob.
Pieces of wood fluttered to the ground as the door swung open. He glanced at the spray of splinters covering the floor, then up at Diluc, who was pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes and sighing heavily. Unlike Kaeya, Diluc wasn’t at all dishevelled, nor were there any bags under his eyes, but there was a deep weariness to the way he held himself. Clawing at Kaeya’s door all night might not have worn him down physically, but it clearly had mentally.
“I would rather you didn’t do that,” said Diluc, dropping his hand away from his face. “Provoke it, that is. If not for me, then for the fact it may eventually wear down the wood enough to see through.”
He brushed Kaeya aside and placed his palm flat on the door, sliding his fingers through the grooves torn into the wood. They were deep enough to elicit a shudder in Kaeya. Some of them ran the full length of the door.
“Oh, will it now?” Swallowing down his unease, Kaeya slipped a thumb over the ravaged wood and hummed a note of approval. Not at the beasts work, obviously, but at the strength of the door. “Your magic seems to be holding up just fine. Or is it not your magic?”
Diluc thinned his lips at him before responding. “You ought to be taking this more seriously. I can’t guarantee the door will hold against the beasts strength, and while it won’t be able to reach you without an explicit invitation in, it doesn’t need to step inside to start causing trouble.”
“What makes you think I’m not taking this seriously?” This was his life on the line. He was approaching this situation with due concern, but that didn’t mean he had to be as ornery as Diluc. “What trouble can it cause, exactly?”
“It’s very...” Diluc hesitated on an answer. “Compelling.”
That had Kaeya looking bemused. Compelling- what an odd quality for a beast to have.
“Should it ever break the door, I suggest you avoid its gaze,” added Diluc.
“I see.” He would definitely be keeping that in mind. “What happens if you meet its gaze, exactly?”
Diluc gave him a measured look. “The same thing that happened to everyone else that looked upon it.”
What a terrifying answer. Were he not already sweating, Kaeya probably would have started right then.
“Consider it noted.” Kaeya stepped away from the door and glanced down at his dusty pyjamas, which were a little too on the tight side, pinching into his armpits. “I should probably get changed for breakfast.” Diluc didn’t need to; he was wearing the same outfit he had been last night, with not a thread out of place. The transformations seemed to spare them. “But first-” He leaned against the door frame, smiling. “You never did say if the door was your magic. Shy?”
Diluc scoffed. “Hardly,” he said. “The curse dictates the boundaries of this castle and this room. I have no hand in it.” He retreated back into the hallway, fragments of the door catching on the soles of his boots. “But I caution you regardless. That door already has a keyhole, so it stands to reason that a hole for the beast to look through isn’t impossible.”
“I’m starting to think you do care,” Kaeya said, with perhaps too much of a suggestive edge, because Diluc shoulders rose into a straight line and he retreated even further into the hall.
“I’m considering that today's question.” Then he took his leave.
Not the question he’d hoped to have answered, but there was nothing for it. He’d pushed Diluc a little too far. Such an easy man to rile. Kaeya would have found him fun, under different circumstances.
Casting his eye over the damage one more time, he turned to shuck his pyjamas and dress in his day clothes. Which, by now, were in dire need of a clean, so he’d have to find a bucket, soap and water today and squeeze as much filth out of them as possible. All going well, they’d be dry by the morning.
He arrived at breakfast to a spread that was just as lavish as the last had been. Kaeya sat himself down and piled cold foods onto his plate, mostly to avoid being made drowsier than he already was. He needed to stay awake at least an hour so he could wash his clothes, then he’d crawl back into bed for a nap. He might not get much sleep during the night, but he could grab a few snatches throughout the day, and that would be enough to sustain him.
“So,” he started, and Diluc punctuated him with a sigh. Such an amusing man. “Have you read all those books in the library?”
“Not quite,” said Diluc.
“'Not quite’. Sounds like a ‘nearly’ to me.” Quite the feat, even if Diluc’d had a very long time to get through them. “You ought to have some good recommendations for me, then.”
Diluc cast him a bemused look. “If you like. I’ll write you a list.”
“Oh no, that won’t do,” said Kaeya. “It’s such a vast library. I’ll need you to help me locate your recommendations.” Before Diluc could protest, which he looked to be gearing up to do, Kaeya leaned across the table with a smile. “No uncomfortable questions this time, I promise. Why don’t I regale you with tales of my time as a Knight of Favonius instead?”
It was a genuine offer, but Kaeya did keep a close eye on Diluc’s reaction to this question. He wanted to see how the man responded to the mention of the knights, if it would evoke emotion in him-
And it did. His entire face pinched like he’d eaten something sour before smoothing out again. Not a response someone would usually have to the knights, but he supposed Diluc wouldn’t associate them with anything positive if it was them that had led him to his miserable fate. And at this point, Kaeya strongly suspected they had.
“I have no desire to hear about such tales.” Diluc waved a hand to dismiss the topic.
“Myself, then,” said Kaeya. "I have plenty of tales about general travel. Liyue and Inazuma were quite exciting lands to traverse.”
Diluc visibly hesitated. “I suppose I would be... amenable to that.”
“Amenable! Who would have thought you capable,” said Kaeya with a chuckle, but Diluc didn’t seem to find it amusing, so he added, “Thank you kindly, Diluc. Let's meet at, mmm... three.” He’d have preferred noon so they could have a meal beforehand, but he wasn’t sure he’d be awake in time for that. “And forgive me if my clothes look atrocious. I’ll be cleaning this set today, and everything in the drawers is either too large or too small for me.”
Diluc suddenly looked abashed, if only for a moment. “Those were clothes I provided former residents. You’ll find better fitting clothes when you return.”
“How gracious of you to remember your guest needs more than one set of clothes,” said Kaeya. A pause for effect, then, “Well, with a little prompting.”
“Don’t push your luck,” Diluc warned, though there was no force behind it.
“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” said Kaeya with a chuckle. “Would you be able to produce for me some water, a bucket, and soap as well, by the way? I will need those to clean this outfit.”
Diluc didn’t offer a verbal answer. Instead, he snapped a hand through the air and a bucket full of soapy water appeared before Kaeya, just shy of his plate. Steam rose in great, billowing clouds from the top, so it must have been very hot.
“I can address all basic necessities,” said Diluc. “The only thing off-limit to me are most frivolities.”
“Very impressive. Even hydro vision holders can’t produce hot water.”
To that, Diluc merely grunted, returning to his food.
Kaeya polished off the remainder of his breakfast, chasing it down with a cool glass of apple juice (wrinkling his nose when Diluc went for the grape juice), then carefully picked the bucket of water off the table and carried it all the way back to his room. There, he set the bucket aside and dug some fresh clothes out of his drawers, which now fit him, as promised. They were soft, silky, and surprisingly fashionable, and Kaeya felt compelled to give them a good examination before he set them on the bedside table for later. A pretty blue vest; a white dress shirt; some tight-fitting black pants; boots, and a thin summers jacket with a blue tinge and gold patterns woven into the wrist cuffs, shoulders, and lapels. He was looking forward to putting them on. But for now, he set them on the bedside table for later, threw his pyjamas back on, and got to work on cleaning the outfit he’d arrived in.
It took thirty minutes for him to get his clothes smelling at least somewhat agreeable. He wrung them out as best he could, getting as much water on himself and the floor as he did in the bucket, then lay them in front of the window to dry under the oppressive heat beyond. There was nothing to hang them on – he hadn’t had the forethought to request something – so that would have to do. The floor looked clean enough, anyway.
With all that done, he was finally able to crawl into bed and curl up under the covers, and it wasn't long before slumber took him. A fitful slumber, full of dreams that featured splintering wood and snarled demands, but a slumber all the same.
Diluc was already in the library when Kaeya arrived, sitting at a reading table situated near the door. The seat across from him had been pulled out in preparation for Kaeya's arrival and the small pile of books at his designated section of table suggested Diluc had already picked out recommendations for him. How considerate.
He strode up and took his assigned seat, selecting the top-most book from his pile and sitting it in front of himself. He didn’t open it. Reading wasn’t really what he’d come here for; he could always do that later, in the quiet of his room.
"You've been busy, I see," he said, first looking at his pile of books, then at the pile Diluc had arranged for himself. A cursory glance unveiled them as nothing particularly interesting; just books on combat techniques. It seemed Diluc had an interest in swordsmanship. He’d disarmed Kaeya so easily and with such skill that it would have been surprising if he hadn’t.
"The books are alphabetised," said Diluc. "I arranged them years ago. It didn't take long to find recommendations for you."
Kaeya’s eyebrows jumped. "You alphabetised this entire library?” He cast his eye over the shelves and the hundreds – perhaps thousands – of books lining them, and it was only now that he noticed that each one was indeed alphabetised. He hadn’t been paying close attention last he’d been here, distracted by the opulence of his surroundings. “How long did that take?"
“I couldn’t tell you,” said Diluc. “I stopped keeping track of the passage of time many years ago. The only exception is when I have a guest.”
Kaeya probably would have done the same, in his position. Knowing how long you’ve been trapped would just serve to make your situation more depressing. Better to linger in... well, not blissful ignorance, but ‘slightly more tolerable than the alternative’ ignorance.
“One can surmise it took a very long time, at least.” He leaned his chin on his hand and glanced at his books again, taking note of the titles. ‘An Army at Dawn’, ‘Battle Cry of Freedom’, and a few combat orientated books with uninspired names. The one he’d grabbed off the top concerned sword maintenance.
“War and combat.” Kaeya chuckled. “Are you trying to tell me something, Diluc?”
Diluc face remained impassive, but his answer held a wry edge. “Considering how our first encounter went, I thought you could use some brushing up.”
There was that dry wit again. Kaeya outright laughed this time. “I think I deserve some leniency, given what I’m up against.”
“That’s a very poor excuse for a knight,” said Diluc. “I’m far from the only beast you’ve faced. I suggest you read those carefully.”
“Very well,” said Kaeya with clear, good-natured amusement. He didn’t mind being teased. It was always exciting when someone could give as good as they got. “I’ll read them diligently, Master Diluc. Perhaps you would be so kind as to indulge me in some fencing lessons as well.” It’d been a long time since he’d felt any need to practice sword fighting. Despite Diluc’s assessment of him, he was a Cavalry Captain for a reason, but fencing with Diluc could be an interesting exercise. And it’d provide further opportunities to learn about him. The longer he remained in this castle, the more curious he got about the man.
Though obviously breaking the curse remained a priority.
For a long, quiet moment, Diluc stared at him, brow furrowed, like he didn’t quite know what to make of this offer, then he sighed and closed his book. “I see I’m not going to be able to finish this chapter with you here. We can move on to your promised tales.”
Not the answer he was hoping for- not an answer at all, actually, but at least it wasn’t an outright refusal.
“How could I possibly help myself?” said Kaeya. “You’re such scintillating company.”
Diluc squinted his eyes at him. “I assume you're being sarcastic.”
“Not at all,” said Kaeya, sincerely, though that assessment wasn’t entirely wrong. Diluc was scintillating company, but his conversational skills did leave something to be desired. “Our conversation keeps me on my toes, a position I find very enjoyable. I only wish they were longer.”
The brow furrowing on Diluc intensified, and again he stared at Kaeya for another long period. “You’re an odd man,” he said, finally.
Kaeya smiled. “So I’ve been told.” Odd, but charismatic. Odd, but polite. Odd, but a little lazy. It always seemed to be a qualifier, and as far as he was concerned, it was a positive one. Keeping other people on their toes was another interest of his. “Now then,” he said. “Would you like to hear about Liyue first? I’ve a good one in mind.”
“Start wherever you please,” said Diluc.
So Kaeya did. He told him about ascending the mountains into Liyue for a job, where he promptly encountered a ruin guard and had to hurtle down the opposite side of the mountain while missiles rained down around him. He told him how perilous the journey had been, full of monsters and treasure hoarders and winding labyrinths of mountain that one could easily get lost in, and how pleased he’d been with himself when he’d finally arrived at Liyue Harbour. The story was perhaps not the most exciting for someone like Diluc, who’d led a very strange and turbulent life, but Diluc listened to it with clear interest. At the end of the tale, Kaeya leaned back in his chair and spread his hands, inviting questions and comments.
“Prone to getting in trouble, aren’t you,” was Diluc’s immediate feedback, and that had Kaeya snorting. Of course that would be his takeaway.
“To be fair, sometimes I seek it too.” Often, actually. A little trouble was the spice of life. “And I suspect you did much the same, considering...” He trailed off, giving their general surroundings a wave.
Diluc’s mouth tipped into a smile. “Yes, I was guilty of that,” he admitted. “You sound to have led an interesting life, beyond this place. Why compelled you to come back?” His smile slipped away, so brief it might as well have not been there at all. “Was it me?”
“Not exactly,” said Kaeya. “I wasn’t aware you were real until I spoke with some residents, in fact. But I did come here with the intention of offering assistance. I’ve had a good life, courtesy of being left in Mondstadt, and I intended to try to bring some of that to Khaenri'ah.”
That wasn’t really what he’d had in mind when he’d gone looking about the settlements. He’d hoped to convince some of them to leave and join him in Mondstadt, which was always welcoming of travellers and would be more than happy to take on Khaenri'ah refugees. But he was a knight, and they’d immediately decided a knight would be the perfect solution to their beast issue, so off he’d gone to the beasts castle.
Trying to get them to leave was probably futile anyway. Some were cursed to remain here, others were desperately hoping to recover cursed family, and many more were convinced they were the last hope of restoring Khaenri'ah. If they all left, it was truly lost. Or they thought so, anyway. Kaeya thought it already was. Khaenri'ah didn’t exist anymore- not in any meaningful sense. It was just a series of scattered settlements occupied by a few hundred settlers. Maybe a thousand, if he was generous. Everything else was wasteland, marred by the cataclysm and throttled by monsters.
“So,” he said, leaning forward with a smile. “What brought you to Khaenri'ah?”
A furrow developed on Diluc’s brow. “I don’t wish to speak of it.”
“After I was so forthcoming?”
“Even then,” said Diluc.
Kaeya sighed and drew back again. “Very well. At least tell me if I’ve lasted longer than the average person, then. I’d like to know.” Diluc frowned, so Kaeya tacked on a, “It’s not going to help me break the curse, so permit me this one.”
Diluc sighed. “Three days is the average. You're on the cusp.”
“Most people don’t heed your warning, I suppose?”
“Why would they? I’m simply a beast keeping them prisoner.” He sounded exceptionally tired, and Kaeya was starting to understand why Diluc was so reluctant to part with information. He’d put his faith in people before; people like Kaeya, and they’d failed him, over and over and over, until he’d given up. Now it seemed he was just going through the motions.
Kaeya couldn’t let that stand. If he was to break this curse, he needed Diluc’s cooperation.
“Not much of a beast,” he said, smiling. “Preparing me nice meals, indulging me in conversation, and what an unbeastly face you have- you're just terrible at it.”
Diluc let out a breathy noise, which sounded suspiciously like an aborted laugh. “You’re a very odd man,” he said again.
“Is it really so odd to find you pleasant?” Kaeya inched closer, his voice dropping in volume. “You’re much more enjoyable company than you’re giving yourself credit for, and I have every intention of breaking this curse so I can continue to indulge in it.”
At this, the line of Diluc’s shoulders rose and he placed his hands flat on the table, as though preparing to leave. But he didn’t. Instead, he said in a voice thick with reluctance: “I’ll hold you to that, Kaeya Alberich.”
Progress. Little by little, inch by inch, he was battering down Diluc’s defences.
“I think it's only fair I get to hold something back,” said Kaeya. “Give me one week, Diluc. I survive one week, then I’ll have earned more than the one daily question.”
“Not many were as persistent as you,” said Diluc. He sighed again. “Survive one week and have something to show for it, then we’ll see.”
Something to show for it. Well, simply waiting out the week would have been too easy. It would take someone with more perseverance to make it a productive week.
Kaeya rose from his chair. “Then I’d best get started.”
The rest of his day was whittled away searching the castle for clues, but by eight, he’d little to show for his efforts. He found several more doors he couldn’t get through, another storage room, a kitchen, the maids' quarters, and a beautiful sitting room, and meandered through each of them for a while, searching for something – anything – pertaining to the curse, but he came up empty-handed. There were no secrets hiding in their shadowed corners. Just cobwebs and dust. It didn’t seem like Diluc had ventured into those rooms for a very long time, though Kaeya supposed he didn’t have any reason to go to those specific areas of the castle. Maybe he had, a long time ago, but he clearly spent most of his time in the dining room, library, and his own quarters these days. The latter of which Kaeya had yet to find. With how many locked doors there were, it could be just about anywhere.
Though he hadn’t uncovered anything, he was still in high spirits when he returned to his room. After all, this day hadn’t been a complete loss. He had managed to get some capitulation out of Diluc. In a week's time, he would have all the answers he desired- provided Diluc found his progress satisfactory, and he was sure the man would. Surely, in four days, he would uncover something worth presenting to Diluc. He'd been upstairs, downstairs, picked through every drawer and wardrobe and looked under every table, so there was little castle left to search. Tomorrow, he was sure to find something. And in the meantime, he had the beast. Despite Diluc’s warnings, he hadn’t yet given up on the beast as a resource. He would just have to be more cautious when questioning it.
Just before eight hit, he dragged the desk chair over to the door and sat down to wait, flicking through one of his books – one of Diluc’s suggestions – while listening for the beasts approach. It arrived just a scant few seconds after he’d sat down.
“There was really no need for that tantrum you pulled last night,” he said in way of greeting.
“Let me in,” said the beast, and Kaeya sighed nice and loud so the beast would be able to hear him.
“Does that ever work?”
“Occasionally,” it said. “There have been sweet, naïve visitors. I take my time with them.”
Kaeya grimaced. “How kind of you. I notice there isn’t any blood in this room, however. What exactly do you do with them?”
“So inquisitive. Always so inquisitive.” That door groaned on its hinges as the beast pressed against it. Kaeya couldn’t help but tense. They were separated by a mere wooden door, and a ravaged one at that, and if he focused, he could just about smell the beasts breath. Or perhaps that was his imagination. “You should leave your questions until the morning. I won’t oblige you like he does.”
“No?” Kaeya cocked an eyebrow at the door, despite the fact the beast couldn’t see it. Force of habit. “What need I do for you to answer me, then?”
“Let me in,” came the beasts immediate answer.
Such a one-track mind, but that was pretty typical of beasts. “Clearly that’s not going to happen. Is there anything else?”
The answer was slower to come, this time. “If you can hold my gaze, I will answer anything you wish.”
He recalled, then, the warning Diluc had given him about the beasts compelling gaze. It wasn’t even trying to be subtle. Perhaps it hoped he’d forgotten that conversation. “I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse."
“You’re just delaying the inevitable, little bird,” said the beast, a sneer in its voice. “Remember that.”
Kaeya didn’t respond. After how last night had gone, it wouldn’t be wise to press any further, so he returned the chair to the desk and slipped into bed. The beasts well-worn mantra resumed, but he did manage to get a few hours of sleep before dawn
In the interest of not wasting another question, the first thing out of Kaeya’s mouth when he arrived at breakfast was: "What have previous visitors attempted?”
Diluc didn't answer until he'd taken his seat and started selecting his food. “A few tried alchemy, while others tried every fairy-tale solution they’d ever heard of. Neither worked.”
“Evidently.” Kaeya took a bite out of a boiled egg, chewing and swallowing. “Do you remember exactly what they tried?”
“The fairy tale were particularly memorable. One plucked the petals off a rose I produced for them for a week straight, another thought the curse may be stored in my hair and insisted I cut it.” Diluc cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “Romance was also attempted, naturally. Several tried kissing the beast. It went poorly, so I suggest you don’t make any romantic overtures toward it.”
“You think I would?” Kaeya chuckled. “Has anyone tried kissing you?”
Diluc’s cheeks coloured slightly. “The result was the same.”
“Maybe we ought to try regardless, just to be certain.” He wasn’t being entirely serious, though he realised, as he spoke, that he really wouldn’t have minded kissing the man. He was tall, broad shouldered, with a handsome face and pink lips, and he coloured beautifully. These were things he’d always recognised, but given the situation, it was really no wonder he hadn’t properly processed them until now.
Kaeya fast found his own face warming and he turned away, pretending to consider the juices.
“Do you remember any of the alchemy at all?” he asked, eager to change the topic now that his composure was failing him. It was generally reliable, so it was always startling when it did.
“Not entirely,” said Diluc. “I recall that one person drew monsters to the castle with something, but I couldn’t tell you the process. I wasn’t knowledgeable in Khaenri'ahn alchemy at the time, nor am I particularly well-versed now, despite my efforts. Books can only facilitate so much.”
Khaenri'ahn alchemy was complicated enough that it’d probably been too optimistic to hope Diluc remembered any he’d seen. It wasn’t likely he’d encountered many who could perform it either; much of that skill had been lost to time. The only thing the average Khaenri'ah resident could throw at Diluc was that fairy tale knowledge, and clearly it hadn’t served them well. Perhaps Kaeya would have better luck... but then, he didn’t actually know many fairy tales, and he wasn’t about to try his luck at kissing the beast. He valued both his life and the continued existence of his lips, which the beast would probably rip off for the gall.
“You’ve given me much to think about.” He turned back to Diluc, finally. "I’d like to read those books on Khaenri'ahn alchemy, if you don’t mind. My room currently only holds one.”
“I’ll bring them to your room,” said Diluc. “But I wouldn’t put too much stock in them. Their age shows. Much of them is incomprehensible without knowledge and language that was commonplace back then.”
There was another problem: he was just as ignorant about Khaenri'ahn alchemy as the average modern Khaenri'ahn, and he could recall little of the language lessons he’d had in his youth. It probably wouldn’t have helped even if it had, granted; it wasn’t complete enough to function as a language, much less enable Kaeya to translate sections of books that weren’t written in common.
“All the same,” he said, stepping to his feet. “I’d like to have a look over them, just to be sure they won’t be of any use.”
“Very well. I’ll leave you some alchemy supplies with them.”
Kaeya looked bemused. “Your ability to summon things out of thin air is certainly very versatile.”
“It doesn’t always work,” said Diluc. “But I have good luck with anything pertaining to the curse and subsistence.” As he spoke, he took up the jug of grape juice and poured a generous glass for himself. Kaeya wrinkled his nose at it.
“Add in a bottle of wine, then. If you can.”
Now it was Diluc who wrinkled his nose. “You’ll find the alchemy supplies in your room, and only the alchemy supplies. I’ll be down with the books shortly.”
Upon returning to his room, Kaeya did find all the alchemy supplies he could possibly need sitting on his desk. At least where tools were concerned. The materials weren’t quite as varied, mostly hailing from Mondstadt and Dragonspine. There was only a scattering of local ingredients, and obviously Diluc wasn’t going to be able to provide anything that had been commonplace when Khaenri'ahn alchemy had been in wide use, but he would try to make do with what he had. This was seeming less and less viable an option by the minute, but that didn't mean he shouldn’t try.
So he poured over the books. As Diluc had warned, he understood very little. Not only did it contain language and symbols he didn’t recognise, but even the jargon was different to what you would find in places like Liyue and Mondstadt, which broadly used the same words. Some of it he could only read from context clues, and more often than not, there wasn’t enough detail to get him through a passage. In the end, after several hours of struggling through various textbooks, he decided to set alchemy aside and pick it up later. He didn’t need to rush. There was a time limit, but he had other options.
Parts of the castle he hadn’t yet explored, for example. He’d swept briefly through most of it, but he hadn’t given every section a thorough examination.
He stepped out of the room to make his way over to the unexplored bowels of the castle, and once there, he checked door after door until he found one that was unlocked, throwing it open. It unveiled another bedroom. This one was much larger than his and lavishly furnished. The rug on the floor nearly spanned the entire room. He picked carefully through every desk, drawer, bookshelf, wardrobe and vanity, but he didn’t find anything of interest. Just dusty clothes and office supplies. He had to wonder why Diluc hadn’t set him up here, though; was there something nearby that Diluc didn’t want him finding?
The next room was a proper office, and the one after that a bathing room so large one could have swam in it. No water, however. It looked like there was some kind of old plumbing system, but there wasn’t so much as a trickle of water when he turned the tap. Whatever water source this tapped into, it must have dried up a long time ago. He picked through both rooms with care and didn’t find anything in those either, but he did decide he’d ask Diluc to fill the bath for him later. It’d been three days since he’d had one and he was in dire need.
After checking every room, he thumped his way up the stairs leading into a tower, and he found a locked door at the very top. More curiously, the lock was scratched, well-used. None of the other locked doors had looked like that. Kaeya considered it for a long time before streaming his way back down the stairs and searching each and every room for something he could use to jiggle the lock free. Picking locks was something he’d learned while pretending to be a treasure hoarder for a job. Though that had been a very long time ago, and he wasn’t sure how proficient he’d be nowadays. Treasure hoarders didn’t often come to Mondstadt; it didn’t have much treasure to speak of. It wasn’t a seemingly endless well like Liyue.
He found some hair clips he could bend into the rough shape of a key and headed back to try his luck. Fortune seemed to be smiling on him today, because it didn’t take more than a few minutes for him to jostle the lock open, and he immediately shoved his way inside with a shoulder.
Though the lock was thoroughly scratched, the room definitely hadn’t been entered in a long time. The dust was thick on every surface and spiderwebs swept down from the corners, dead spiders hanging off them. There wasn’t anything for them to eat in here. He grabbed an oil lamp hanging from the interior door handle and lit it before stepping deeper into the room, deeper into the dark, holding the lamp aloft to make sure he didn’t go stumbling over or into anything.
The room wasn’t very big, but it was very full; it must have been storage of some kind, because all sorts of things had been thrown in there. Clothes, a sword, bags, books, some torn-up furniture. Those weren’t what caught his interest, though. On one of the bedside tables he found a cold, lifeless Vision bearing the mark of pyro. He held it up to the flickering light of his lamp and ran a thumb over its smooth surface, wiping away a thick sheen of dust. It didn’t react to him in any way. Just sat dead in his hand. Was this Diluc’s? Had it belonged to a past visitor? That would have been strange, since residents of Khaenri'ah didn’t have Gods from which to receive Visions.
He held the Vision against his lamp, trying to warm it, see if he could get it to show some signs of life, but nothing happened, and ultimately, he put it back where he’d found it. He doubted Diluc would appreciate him taking it out of the room.
Wiping his palms clean on his thighs, he resumed his search, picking carefully through the discarded items, setting aside anything that wasn’t of interest. At the back of the room, he found yet another Vision- except, no. That wasn’t right. It didn’t look like a Vision he’d ever seen, and plenty residents of Mondstadt bore one on them at all times. It was darker, less vivid. The mark was off. The outer pattern didn’t look right either. He turned it over in his hand, frowning and running a thumb along a crack splitting it through the middle, and this time, he did feel life; he felt too much life, in fact. Like a zap to his senses, and he promptly dropped it with a grimace. A Vision wouldn’t have done that either.
How strange. How unsettling. Was it some sort of counterfeit? How in the world was it working, then? Fake Visions were one thing, but ones that actually worked? He’d never heard of such a thing. Granted, he hadn’t done extensive research into them. He hadn’t given them much thought in general since he didn’t have one, and he was beyond the age one would generally receive a Vision.
He carefully set the lamp on a desk in the far corner of the room and put the Vision and counterfeit in front of it, so they would be easier to find later. Then he dug carefully through the rest of the contents of the room. The sword was particularly interesting. It looked like a sword of Favonius, if a very old one, its method of make long since improved, so perhaps Diluc really had arrived five hundred years ago. The edge was dull.
He was preparing to set that down when he heard it- footsteps. The heavy, plodding footsteps of a beast, which brought every fine hair on Kaeya to attention. Was it eight already? It must have been, because he never heard Diluc when the man approached. He was as quiet as a feline. The monster, on the other hand, always announced itself with a thud, thud, thud, thud. It was getting closer. It must have known where he was.
Snatching up the oil lamp and gripping the sword, he streamed in the direction opposite to his room. He’d no choice, since the beast had clearly checked there first. The moment he began to run, so did the beast, thundering after him, its footsteps seeming to rock the entire castle.
In his peripheral vision, Kaeya could see black. Thick wisps of it, like flames licking the air, and that was all he saw before a great pressure erupted over his shoulders and sent him slamming into the wall. The oil lamp and sword went flying out of his hands, skittering across the floor and coming to a stop well out of his reach, and he was too busy scrambling away from another strike to try retrieving them. His shoulder screamed with pain. The beast had used its claws. Had it killed him already? Wounded him beyond repair? It felt like it, but Kaeya didn’t so much as glance to check before bolting again, this time in the direction of his room.
“Aw, don’t run, little bird,” the beast crowed. Blood gathered slick under Kaeya’s shirt, sliding down his bicep and forearm to settle into the hollow of his palm. “We’re just getting acquainted!”
I don’t want to die rang through his head as he ran. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die.
The door to his room was just up ahead, but the beast was closing in again. If not for his training as a Knight, he would have been felled right then and there, but he deftly leapt out of the way of its next swing, smacking his ravaged shoulder into the wall in the process and crying out one long, ragged note. The beast laughed.
“Slippery, aren’t you.”
Kaeya ran so hard his lungs burned, drawing in breaths with all the desperation of a drowning man, but they weren’t enough, because he was running so hard, so fast. The beast swiped for him again and he felt the sting of claws before he fell through his door, landing on the ground with a great, bone-shaking thud. Blood immediately began to pool under his arm. The entire left side of his body was soaked, slippery and red, and his skin was bone-white beneath it.
“Come back out, Kaeya,” the beast cooed from the doorway. “I’ll make you all better.”
Shaking like an aspen, Kaeya drew himself up onto his hands and knees and crawled over to the bed, tugging down the blanket just far enough for him to lean into it in an effort to staunch his wounds. He needed them to clot. If he kept bleeding like this, he’d die of hypovolemic shock before he could get Diluc to sew or cauterise the wounds. As it was, he could barely keep his eye open, his vision black around the edges and getting progressively darker. His chin dropped to his clavicle as the ability to hold it up abandoned him and he looked blearily at his arm, watching the patch of dark red on the blanket steadily expand. It was getting slower. Good. Good.
“Don’t go to sleep, little bird,” said the beast. “You won’t wake up.” It didn’t sound at all put-out by this possibility.
Kaeya did try to keep his eye open, but slowly, in increments, it fell shut, and unconsciousness enveloped him shortly thereafter. The beasts booming laughter followed him into the dark.
When he regained consciousness, the first thing he became cognisant of was pain. Bright, blinding pain that lashed up his arm and shoulder and drew a series of involuntary whimpers, but Gods, he was alive. He’d survived. Somehow, miraculously, he’d survived, and every breath he took filled him with overwhelming relief. He probably would have cried were he the sort to give in to such impulses.
The next thing he became cognisant of was the fact he was lying in bed rather than propped up against it. He peeled his eye open and looked down, finding himself shirtless and covered in bandages, with not a hint of blood anywhere on him. He’d been thoroughly cleaned before being dressed. Diluc must have tended to him, and he’d done so with a surprising amount of care. Perhaps the man was fonder of him than he let on.
He tried to rise, but the pain soon sent him dropping back against the pillow with a low groan and some writhing. Since it didn’t look like he would be leaving the bed anytime soon, he limited himself to curling his fingers and gently rotating his shoulder, testing the degree of damage. It didn't seem like he'd lost a lot of functionality, but moving it hurt, and hurt badly, so he had many miserable days ahead of him. Unproductive ones too, he feared, because not only did his arm hurt, but he felt just awful too. Weak and nauseous and dizzy. The blood loss had been extensive.
He heard footsteps and tensed, but the only person who walked through the door was Diluc. He was carrying a tray, on which was a jug of water, something that looked vaguely medicinal, and some fresh bandages. He set these gingerly on the bedside table before addressing Kaeya.
“You’re awake.”
“Thankfully.” Kaeya smiled weakly. “I got a little distracted last night, as you can see.”
Diluc’s jaw tightened. “Idiot.” He snatched up the little bowl full of murky green mush and brought it to Kaeya’s lips. It didn’t look palatable in the least, and smelled even worse, but Kaeya obediently parted his lips to receive a mouthful and made a face as it slid down his throat. “That will dull the pain. Should you do something so foolish again, I won’t tend to you.”
“I survived, didn’t I,” said Kaeya after swallowing, and Diluc seemed to find this answer even more incensing than his last. He bared a slither of teeth at Kaeya.
“You promised me not a day ago that you would survive. You promised me you would have something to show by the end of the week. Instead, I got you bleeding out on the floor.”
“I do have something to show.” Kaeya took a short breath. “But I apologise. It won’t happen again.”
“No, it won’t,” said Diluc, voice firm.
“Why did you tend to me, anyway?” asked Kaeya, looking down at himself and the meticulously wrapped bandages.
Diluc’s answer lagged by a good minute. “You wouldn’t be able to get your question if you died of blood loss,” he said, plainly. “Which you just used up, by the way.”
That was really not fair, not in the slightest, but it was probably what he deserved after slipping up so severely. He didn’t argue. Even if he had been inclined, he wouldn’t have won it anyway.
“You were very lucky,” Diluc continued, setting the medicine aside to grab the jug, pouring Kaeya a cup of water. “Your wounds were shallower than expected, so there’s no nerve damage. Your arm should regain full mobility in time.”
“Shallower than expected,” he murmured. In his panic, he’d feared they’re gone right down to the bone. “They certainly didn’t bleed like they were shallow.” He tried to take the cup of water from Diluc, but Diluc slapped his hand away and insistently pressed it to his lips.
“You’re weak,” he said. And he was right: both Kaeya’s hands were visibly trembling. “I don’t want to have to change your sheets again.”
With a sigh, Kaeya obligingly parted his lips again and sipped at the water until the cup was empty. He was thirstier than he thought, so he gestured for another, and he swallowed that almost in one go. After losing that much blood, it wasn’t surprising he was dehydrated. He had a lot of blood to regenerate and he was going to need plenty of food and water to facilitate that. Speaking of...
“I could do with a bite to eat,” he said.
Diluc set the water jug aside and flicked his fingers, and a bowl of soup appeared on the tray. Tomato, by the look of it. Not exactly what Kaeya wanted, but as he was nauseous, he probably should avoid stuffing himself. No spreads tonight. Or day? Was it day? He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious.
“Don’t spill any,” said Diluc, then began spooning the soup into Kaeya’s mouth. It was tepid rather than hot, so the contents was gone in a flash, and in no small part because it was the best tomato soup he’d ever had.
He licked his lips and settled against his pillows, nowhere near full, but content all the same. The medicine was helping with that, his pain dulled and body becoming pleasantly fuzzy.
“Diluc,” he said quietly. “You’ll keep me company while I heal, won’t you? It’d be awful lonely without you.” He’d intended it to be a casual request, but it came out needier than he'd like. Whether that was the fault of the medicine or blood loss, it was hard to say. Either way, he covered for it with a wide, playful smile; a defensive reflex after years of hiding his true purpose in Mondstadt and all the associated anxieties.
He didn’t like being alone when he was ill. He never had.
Diluc paused and stared. He stared for so long that Kaeya started to think he was going to be refused, then- “If you like.”
“So kind,” said Kaeya with a teasing edge. “In that case, you can tell me all about the Vision and the counterfeit I found during your visits. They were quite the curious find.”
The staring immediately ceased. Diluc busied himself with transferring the medicine bowl into the empty soup bowl. “You used up your question today,” he reminded Kaeya.
Kaeya tried and failed to make a graceful gesture with his hand. It just ended up being a pathetic sort of flop. “You’re going to be telling me all about them eventually. Best get comfortable with the prospect.”
“I will never be comfortable with the prospect,” said Diluc. He picked the tray off the bedside table and stood. “But I will tell you when you ask. And I’m going to need you to heal before I consider divulging everything. Faith in your ability to challenge the curse is a requirement.”
“That was implied,” said Kaeya, shrugging and immediately regretting it as a hot throb flowed down the length of his arm. It wasn’t painful, thanks to the medicine, but it was uncomfortable. "I’m already proving quite the challenge, aren’t I?”
“In many ways, yes,” said Diluc drily.
As promised, Diluc did keep him company. More than he anticipated, even. He’d thought he might get half an hour at most a day, as was customary, but Diluc lingered in his bedroom after each meal and engaged him in conversation to his heart's content. Which meant they were talking almost constantly through each visit, pausing only to eat and drink and address whatever basic necessities Kaeya needed addressing. They spoke about Liyue; they spoke about Inazuma; they spoke about Snezhnaya, and after some time, Kaeya even managed to bring up Mondstadt without being rebuffed. Throughout mentions of the taverns and Windblume Festival and Cathedral and the knights, Diluc was initially tense, his hands fisted in his lap, but that gradually subsided, and by the third conversation about Mondstadt, he didn’t appear to be troubled at all.
“I quite miss the sights,” was the most surprising thing to come out of that conversation. “I can barely remember what they look like now.”
Kaeya regarded him curiously from the desk, which he’d been able to sit at for most of the day without too much difficulty. “So, you are from Mondstadt.”
“Obviously,” said Diluc, waving a hand toward his face, which did bear the standard features of a Mondstadt native. “I simply didn’t wish to talk of it. But I’d like to hear about it now, how Mondstadt looks these days.”
“As green as ever,” said Kaeya with a smile tinged with sympathy. “Lush, with those lovely rolling hills dotted by Windwheel Asters. Windrise is a favourite picnic spot of many these days, especially with the weather so warm, though I favour the islands, personally.”
Diluc closed his eyes, expression nostalgic. “What of Wolvendom and the Whispering Woods?”
“They may be a little larger than you recall, and certainly livelier. They’re popular spots to go for a walk, especially at night, with the lamp grass to guide one through the trees. You’ll often find the nuns wandering around collecting Wolfhooks in Wolvendom, but the Whispering Woods, true to its name, is often nice and quiet.”
"And the city?”
“Bustling. We receive visitors from across Teyvat frequently, and they’re quite fond of our wine- consider it the best in the land, in fact. I’m inclined to agree. They admire our architecture, particularly the windmill towers, ever moving. They haven’t stopped once in all the years I’ve lived there.” As descriptions went, it wasn’t his best, but he was too tired to provide something better. Thankfully, Diluc looked plenty appreciative of his effort. “Our stunning Cathedral gets a fair few compliments as well. Those stained-glass windows never fail to awe, and now the deaconess has taken up singing, so you can hear it flow down from the courtyard.”
Upon his finish, Diluc exhaled slowly and smiled. A much less fleeting smile than his last. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear of Mondstadt’s prosperity.”
“You’re welcome,” said Kaeya, gazing intently at that smile. It was a pleasant look on Diluc. On a whim, he threw out: “Would you mind leaving me paints and a canvas to keep myself occupied?”
Diluc arched a thin eyebrow at him. “This is sudden. Is your left or right your dominant hand?”
Kaeya chuckled. “The uninjured one.” He wiggled the fingers on his right hand. “I’ll manage painting just fine.”
“Just a moment,” he said, but it was less than a moment later that a canvas and painting supplies sprouted out of thin air and dropped on the desk, atop the alchemy supplies.
Kaeya extracted himself from the chair to set up the easel, taking his time with the task, since his arm remained weak. “Perfect. I’m a voracious reader, but there’s only so much reading one can do in a day.” With the easel and canvas ready, he dragged his chair over and dropped into it, then picked out the paints he'd need. Some blue, green, white, black, grey, red, and that would do for now. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy the fruits of my labour,” he said, casting Diluc a grin.
“Mmhm,” was Diluc’s reply, viciously doubtful despite being little more than a hum.
“So little faith in me.” Kaeya clucked his tongue and got started, applying several strokes of light green to the very centre of the canvas. Painting was something he’d enjoyed often as a child, before he’d found his true calling in being a knight of Favonius, and like learning to fly a glider, it was a skill that never faded completely. His strokes were shaky, but practised, so Diluc would probably be pleasantly surprised come morning.
Assuming he didn’t spend the rest of his day watching Kaeya paint, which was what he was currently doing.
“You’ve done this before,” said Diluc.
“Aren’t you observant.” Kaeya added several more strokes of green. “Will you be watching me for the rest of the evening?”
“Until dinner. There doesn’t seem much point in leaving when it’s in an hour.”
“Then sit yourself on the bed. You’ll get much too uncomfortable just standing there for an hour.”
Diluc did as he requested, perching himself on the edge of Kaeya’s bed and watching him apply further strokes to the canvas. Each time Diluc lingered in his company, it became more and more apparent that his cool, detached approach to Kaeya’s presence was an act. He didn’t want to be alone. It seemed time and disappointment and fear hadn’t completely availed him of the need for company.
Kaeya knew that kind of loneliness well; the kind where you were afraid of getting close but just as afraid of being left alone. He’d come to Mondstadt a stranger in a strange land, and in many ways, he still felt like one, and had few meaningful relationships as a consequence. Maybe he could have integrated better without his father's instructions hanging over him, but there was no point in dwelling on such fanciful things now. His life was what it was. There was no ridding it of its unpalatable parts.
Dinner came and went, and Diluc sat watching for several minutes more before finally making his departure. Kaeya barely paid it any notice, focused as he was on perfecting the landscape he was steadily putting together. It was still in its infancy, but within a few hours it would be more than just a series of blocky shapes and thin strokes. He worked until he heard the beast at his door, and he worked even then, until fatigue compelled him to apply some final touches and bring the painting over to the door, propping it up before it with his chair. Then, after some hesitation, reminding himself that the beast couldn’t pass into the room without an invitation, he closed his eye and opened the door. The beast fell silent almost immediately.
It was a simple affair: just a rough rendition of Windrise and the Barbatos statue. He’d made it as detailed as he could, though there was only so much one could achieve in a day. Given a few more, it would look much nicer, much prettier.
Satisfied, Kaeya crawled into bed and curled up, waiting for the beasts crowing to resume. But it didn’t. For the first time since he’d arrived in the castle, he fell asleep to silence.
He awoke to silence too, but that was far more common than falling asleep to it. Drawing himself up against the headboard, the first thing he saw was Diluc in his room, standing before the painting. He didn’t offer anything in the way of a greeting as Kaeya retrieved an outfit from the wardrobe and dressed; just stared quietly at the painting, like he couldn’t bear to look away.
“You miss Mondstadt that much.” It wasn’t a question.
Diluc finally looked up at him. “Yes,” he said, taking a deep breath. “When you’re finished, may I keep it?”
Diluc was regarding it with such admiration that Kaeya would have liked to give it to him right now. But it would be even better once it was finished, and Diluc deserved a finished product.
“Of course,” he said. “I did paint it for you.”
“Thank you,” said Diluc, stepping forward to run his fingers revenantly along the top of the canvas. “Your healing is coming along well. You may ask two questions today.”
My, he really appreciated that painting. Perhaps Kaeya would make him another once he'd finished the first one. A little something to brighten up the hallways.
The first questions to come to mind pertained to the Vision and counterfeit. He wanted – needed – to know the story behind them, but something much more pertinent to the curse came to mind. “Is everything about the curse inherent knowledge?” He was curious to hear if there was anything someone or something had told him.
“It is,” said Diluc, to Kaeya's disappointment. “I know and feel many things I don’t understand, I suppose in the same way the monsters have some inherent drive to be monstrous. Though there are some things I feel that are more inexplicable."
“Such as?” pressed Kaeya, hoping to get more out of this line of questioning.
Diluc hesitated before answering. "I feel an attraction to the dark and rain, though that might just be a consequence of the beasts preferences being opposite to my own, in some respects. I don’t favour either of those things.” Diluc stroked the painting again. “I’ve mentioned this to a few past visitors and nothing has come of it. But perhaps you’ll make something of it.” As he so often was when assessing Kaeya’s abilities, he didn’t sound confident. “You have been... reasonably perceptive, so far.”
That was actually an improvement over Diluc’s initial impression of him. “I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he said wryly. “That could be relevant. I’ll have a look into it.”
It couldn’t hurt- well, actually, come to think of it, it could. This was a perilous situation to navigate and he’d already been injured once, but that wouldn’t prevent him from pursuing every piece of information he received to its end. He now knew how the curse worked; he knew how exactly it impacted Diluc; he knew roughly what other people had attempted and failed, and he was steadily gaining Diluc’s favour. A week in, and his position was... not ideal, because the injury had been a significant setback, but he’d covered a lot of ground prior to that and in spite of that.
“Diluc-” He paused and licked his lips. It was possible Diluc wouldn’t answer his next question. He'd technically already asked two with that prompt for elaboration, and when Diluc didn’t want to answer something, he tended to be broad with what qualified as one of Kaeya’s questions. “Do you still believe the curse can be broken?”
Diluc’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Not an expression that filled Kaeya with confidence, yet he did answer. “There remains a thread of hope,” he said. “It’s the only thing left to me.”
With that, he turned, heading for the exit. Kaeya called out before he could step past the threshold. He’d been spending more time than usual with Kaeya lately, so it was disappointing that he was trying to run off again. This wouldn’t do.
“Wait,” he said. “I have one more question.”
"You already used up the ones I extended you,” said Diluc, pausing in the doorway.
“This one isn’t relevant to the curse, I promise,” said Kaeya.
Diluc turned back around, gaze as inquisitive as it was exasperated. “Be out with it, then.”
“Is there anywhere else in this castle worth seeing? I’d like to have a walk with you.”
There was a slight ulterior motive here. More of a bonus to Diluc’s company, really. There were far too many locked doors, and it’d take days for him to get through picking them open, so it would be much more efficient for Diluc to guide him to the worthwhile ones.
In place of an answer, Diluc extended a hand, and Kaeya stared at it in bemusement for some time before he took it. His hand was warm and solid and his grip firm. Diluc’s build conveyed strength, with his broad shoulders and muscle, but this was the first he’d experienced that strength outside of combat, and he swallowed to think of how easily Diluc could crush his fingers. He wasn’t nervous; quite the contrary: he liked the idea that Diluc could do such a thing, but only as long as he didn’t actually do it. There was something very appealing about that strength.
Diluc tugged him out of the room and down the hall, and Kaeya allowed himself to be dragged along until they reached a towering set of doors. It was one Kaeya had examined at length during his wandering of the castle, but he’d recognised at the time that he wouldn’t be able to get into it without a key. Though it seemed Diluc had no such issue, as he waved his hands and the doors simply parted. The room beyond was dark, but not for long: another gesture, and chandeliers lining the ceiling lit up one after the other, bringing to life a large, elegant ballroom with white walls patterned with gold and perfectly smooth marble flooring.
Much like he had with the library, Kaeya found himself awed, looking first to the floor with its cloudy gold woven throughout, then to the massive chandeliers with looping patterns on each candle holder, and finally to the walls, admiring the bold swirls and lines that had been painstakingly painted onto each one. This beat the library by a long shot. Which was quite a feat, because the library was an incredible piece of work.
The reason they were there only dawned several minutes after they’re arrived. He balked at Diluc, eye wide. “Are we... here to dance?” Diluc hadn’t let go of his hand.
Some colour had risen to Diluc’s cheeks. “That is the purpose of a ballroom. If you would rather not-”
“I want to,” he interrupted, with such eagerness that his own cheeks developed colour. It was so rare that he held genuine interest in someone that he wasn’t sure how to deal with having it reciprocated.
Diluc immediately swept him into the middle of the ballroom and took him by the waist, guiding Kaeya to fold one arm over his shoulders. He must’ve had practice at ballroom dancing, because he positioned them with ease and confidence, and the gentle sway he guided them into was very graceful for something so simple. The proximity made Kaeya a little too warm, a little too happy, but he was so taken by the entire thing that he didn’t much care how he was coming off. Not right now. He probably had some sort of doofy grin on, and he didn't care. Diluc was smiling back with much more reservation, but that was still a lot for him.
“I’m feeling a little under dressed,” he murmured, glancing down at his simple white shirt and black tights. Diluc was in similar attire, with only a deep brown coat serving as a significant difference, but he wore simple clothes exceptionally well.
“You look beautiful as you are,” said Diluc, and he seemed surprised by his own words. Kaeya was plenty surprised himself.
“You think I’m beautiful?” It wasn’t uncommon for him to get compliments, but from Diluc? That was a rare pleasure.
“I do,” said Diluc. “And I... appreciate and admire your lack of fear toward me. Not many would have allowed me to do this with them.”
“You really aren’t much of a beast,” said Kaeya, laughing. “Much too fuzzy.”
“We are still one in the same,” said Diluc softly.
Kaeya shook his head at Diluc. “The beast is an unwilling burden. I know a little about monsters, being from Khaenri'ah, and you are not a monster.” He slid the arm around Diluc’s shoulders down so he could cup Diluc’s cheek, just lightly, so the man wouldn’t look away, so he would remember Kaeya’s words. “You should be kinder to yourself, Diluc.”
“I...” Diluc swallowed thickly. “But I-”
“You said yourself that the beast doesn’t have your inhibitions,” interrupted Kaeya. “And such things make you who you are. So again, Diluc: you aren’t a monster.”
Diluc’s eyes fell abruptly shut and he pitched forward, forehead falling heavy onto Kaeya’s shoulder, the soft curls of his hair brushing Kaeya’s jaw. After his surprise had subsided, Kaeya drew him closer, folding his forearms over Diluc’s shoulders while they swayed gently in place, his fingers playing in the thick of Diluc’s hair. He was so wonderfully cool and broad, his body fitting perfectly against Kaeya’s slighter one. They danced across the ballroom slowly, unhurried, in silence, simply enjoying the others presence. There was no music, but they didn’t need any; their gentle breaths and the soft taps of their feet was more than enough.
It was a very long time before Diluc spoke again.
“Regardless of how this ends,” said Diluc in a hushed voice. “I’m glad to have met you, Kaeya. You are a kind man.”
"My reputation in Mondstadt suggests otherwise.” But then, that was carefully cultivated. He had his reasons for that, but they didn’t exist right now, in this moment with Diluc. “It’s been a long time since someone has extended you kindness, hasn’t it.”
Diluc said nothing, and that was confirmation enough. Kaeya took over the movement, swaying them gently from side to side.
“life isn’t fair to anyone, huh,” he whispered.
“No,” said Diluc, barely audible, voice trembling.
Kaeya's eye stung. He squeezed it shut and let the silence reign once again.
“The Vision was mine,” said Diluc, addressing Kaeya's question before he’d even finished speaking it. He’d been permitted two again today and he expected it wouldn’t be long before the limit was removed altogether. His arm might not have been healed yet, but Diluc’s resolve was weakening. “The Delusion you found was my fathers,” Diluc added, which covered the follow-up question Kaeya’d had. Not that Diluc predicting him would stop Kaeya from insisting upon another question anyway.
“And why do you have that Delusion now?” asked Kaeya. “You have a Vision. I don’t see why you would need one.”
“I answered two questions,” said Diluc, and Kaeya tsked.
“I only recall asking one.” Oh, it did feel good to throw Diluc’s own rules back at him.
Diluc’s eyes narrowed, but there was something like commendation in them before he spoke. “Delusions are a perilous tool. They operate on one's vitality. It-” A pause, a breath. Diluc was steadily getting better at being able to address topics he found difficult. “It backfired on its former user, so I took it in his stead.”
“Your father-?”
“Yes.”
Kaeya cleared his throat and grabbed his glass of apple juice, taking a sip. “I’d be glad it doesn’t seem to have had any adverse effects on you, but, well...”
“That luck did not hold, no.” Diluc took his own drink and drained it to its dregs, then leaned back in his chair with his arms crossed. After a moment, he asked: “Why did you join the knights?”
Kaeya tilted his head. “You want to hear about them? You seemed repelled last I brought them up.”
“You know a great deal about me,” said Diluc. “I wish to know you.”
It was a sweet sentiment. It was also one he’d rebuffed often with other people. Not out of a lack of desire to be known, because he wanted that desperately, to some extent, but because he felt he had to. No such thing was necessary with Diluc.
“Far be it for me to refuse such a reasonable request,” said Kaeya. He leaned his arm on the table, propping his head up. “Fencing was another of the lessons I was given as a boy. I was fast found to have talent by my guardian, Master Wilson, and the knights soon discovered that too. So naturally, I was dragged off to tryouts. Quite literally. Amber, our sole Outrider – though she wasn’t one at the time; just very enthusiastic – took me by the hand and hauled me there.” It was amusing to remember how shy he’d been during that entire ordeal. At the time, he hadn’t socialised much outside of the Dawn Winery staff.
“Outrider?” said Diluc, brow pinching. “I’ve never heard of such a division. What do they do?”
“Archery and wind gliders.” That was the succinct version, anyway. He wouldn’t bore Diluc with the details. “An inspired combination, don’t you think?”
“I suppose,” said Diluc with audible distaste. Kaeya was sorely tempted to question that distaste, but he’d used up his questions, and answers would come in due time, he was sure. Another day or two and he would qualify as healed. Or healed enough, anyway.
“Have you any other curiosities I might address?” asked Kaeya. “I’m feeling generous.”
They talked until noon, and then talked some more, and after that, Kaeya retired to his room to work diligently on alchemy research. It’d lagged some while he was bed bound and frequently asleep, but he had managed to pick over a few of the smaller, less technical books and make some sense of them. Most importantly, he’d figured out how to produce a gentle spray of rain, which probably wasn’t going to be some miraculous fix, but it could represent a weakness or perhaps a stepping stone in the curse breaking process. A very big ‘perhaps’, but it wasn’t as though he had a lot of direction. Just a whole jumble of information that loosely fit together. It was the most frustrating aspect of this entire ordeal, but it wouldn’t be much of a curse if it was simple to break.
That night, when the beast showed up at his door, he threw it open and closed his eye, holding the water crystal he’d forged aloft. All he had to do was lob it forward in order to hit the beast. Or he hoped as much, anyway, because the crystal had taken all day to make and he didn’t want to waste another on it.
“You’re not planning to throw that at me, are you?” asked the beast, scoffing. “You think that’ll do anything?”
"I think it’s worth trying,” he said, raising the crystal above his shoulder. "If it indeed does nothing, you’ll have no issue standing still for me.”
“Foolish little bird,” said the beast, scoffing again, this time gutturally, the sound riding on a growl. “Toss it here. I’ll show you how pointless this is.”
“How do I know you won’t throw it back at me?”
“You don’t.”
This was the closest the beast had come to being cooperative, so he decided it best to oblige. It could lead to further shows of cooperation down the line, and he wasn’t about to turn that advantage down.
Lowering his arm, he carefully tossed the crystal toward the beast, and he heard wood creak as it snatched the crystal out of the air. A great crunch followed, then came the soft pitter patter of droplets on skin and stone and wood.
Nothing happened. He hadn't expected any miracles, yet he was still a little disappointed. The beast laughed at him, high and cold. A sound ill-fitting for the voice it was using.
"Pointless, as I said."
Kaeya tipped his chin up. "Then give me direction so I can dispense of pointlessness completely."
"You already know my answer to that."
"How could I not," said Kaeya wryly. "And you know mine, so I ask again: is there anything else? Anything at all?"
"Hold my gaze and I'll answer whatever you wish."
Kaeya pressed a breath through the gaps of his teeth and turned, peeling his eye back open, and immediately it alighted on the full-body mirror sitting in the corner of the room. He couldn't look at the beast directly, but what about indirectly?
"Giving up already, are you?" asked the beast.
Kaeya ignored it in favour of carting the mirror over to the middle of the room. It was a heavy, gold-framed affair, so it took him great effort to get it in position. The beast made curious sounds throughout his struggle, and then incensed ones when it realised what he was doing. That was a good sign. If the beast was getting angry, he must be doing something right.
"Clever, little bird," rumbled the beast, anger lacing every syllable. Kaeya smiled to himself. "Maybe you aren't as much a fool as I thought."
"My, my, you're being downright nice tonight." He laughed. The beast snarled.
Stepping to the side of the mirror, Kaeya curled his hands a few times to get himself ready to see what would undoubtedly be an unpleasant sight, then he cast his eye over the mirror.
A gasp involuntarily left him. There were no horns or fur; no talons or hooved feet; no snout or wings. None of the things one would traditionally associate with a monster. Standing in the hallway was a perfectly humanoid Diluc, except he had luminescent eyes, jagged rows of teeth, and most startling of all, he was covered in a thick black that crept over his skin and slithered into the air like flickering flames. It encompassed almost one half of his body, trailing across his chest and darkening his arm, and there were bulbous eyes popping in and out of it as it undulated. Hundreds of them, all fixed on Kaeya.
The beast licked its lips slowly, its tongue tapered and unusually long. A hungry predator considering its prey. Kaeya's pulse throbbed in his throat and he pulled in another breath, this one with a shuddering quality. Looking at it, he was filled with a terrible, primordial dread, but he knew he couldn’t look away until he’d asked his question.
“How do I break the curse?”
The beast huffed a breath out its nose, nostrils flaring. “Forthright, aren’t you. What makes you think I know?”
“You must have a better idea than him,” said Kaeya. “You’re a product of the curse.”
“I am Diluc,” it said, insistent and annoyed. “I just don’t have his inhibitions. It's very freeing, to be allowed to be so furious at the world, to inflict one's fury and bloodlust on it.”
Kaeya frowned at the reflection. “You’re part of him, perhaps, but you are not him.” Those inhibitions were an essential part of Diluc. They were what made him who he was; what separated him from the monsters. The beast could claim to be Diluc all it liked, but it would never truly be Diluc while it lacked such critical parts of him.
“Aren’t I?” The beast huffed again. “I was touched when you made me that painting and danced with me, you know. I think you killed some of the fury in me.”
“Is that how-?”
“I believe you’re on the right track,” it interrupted, speaking dismissively. “But it doesn’t matter. Your time is fast coming to a close. You only have two weeks left, little bird, before I tear you apart and bury you with the others.”
Kaeya swallowed, his mouth suddenly full of far too much saliva. The fact it sounded like the beast didn’t eat its victims – at least not entirely – didn't comfort him in the slightest. “On the right track- sounds like a ‘love cures all’ solution is the way after all.”
The beast chuckled, but it lacked any humour. “Oh, it’s not that simple. You must know that. Do you think you’re the first to get close to me?” The volume of its voice dropped into something sombre, for just a moment. “In the beginning, I was so hopeful. So naïve.”
Kaeya said nothing, the frantic thud of his heart easing off as he gazed at the beasts defeated face- a flicker of Diluc showing through its vicious exterior. Wearing that expression, he almost wished he could hold it, just like he had Diluc in the ballroom, cradling Diluc close as Diluc trembled and came apart.
“You’ll die too, just like them. You can’t save me.”
“Diluc,” he said, voice soft. “Promise me something.”
“Hmm?” The beast tipped its head at him.
“If I fail, don’t fall into despair.” He had to accept that there was a possibility, a very strong possibility, he would fail. It would be doing Diluc a disservice to promise him something he might not be able to fulfil.
The beast smiled. It was a tight-lipped one this time, hiding its teeth. “I already have.”
Diluc was absent at breakfast. He’d left Kaeya another one of his generous spreads, but it was cold, and Kaeya picked unenthusiastically at it while staring at the doors in hopes Diluc would arrive. He never did, and that killed Kaeya’s appetite almost as fast as the texture of the cold eggs. After a couple of mouthfuls and a gulp of apple juice, he abandoned his plate in favour of searching the castle for Diluc, checking first in the library, then in each bedroom, and he even stepped briefly into the ballroom with a candelabra to make sure he wasn’t standing somewhere in the dark.
It wasn’t until he approached that strange upstairs storage room that he finally found Diluc. Surrounded by broken furniture, his Vision and Delusion in his lap, Diluc sat kneeling and hunched over on the floor, his shoulders quivering, and though he was clearly trying to be as quiet as possible, Kaeya could tell he was crying. He knew the soft, breathy sound of strangled tears well because he’d often cried in such a manner himself after his father left him at Mondstadt.
He gently closed the door behind himself and stepped up to Diluc, who did nothing to acknowledge his presence. Kaeya didn’t speak. He knelt down on the floor behind Diluc and curled his arms around Diluc’s waist, sitting his cheek on Diluc’s back, between his shoulder blades. Diluc’s quivering began to ease and his sobs came slower, but they didn’t disappear entirely. Not for a long time, and Kaeya sat with him through it all.
An uneventful day followed. Diluc was quieter than usual, so Kaeya had to speak twice as much to make up for it, filling the air with the tales and tribulations he’d encountered on his travels while Diluc quietly listened. While he’d needed silence yesterday, this was what he needed today, and Kaeya gave it to him in spades.
Diluc’s turn to talk didn’t come until the evening. He took Kaeya by the hand, gave him a meaningful look, and guided him into a locked room, which Kaeya fast realised was where Diluc slept. It was a modest affair. Smaller than Kaeya’s room, with little colour save for the painting of Windrise that Diluc had hung on the wall opposite his bed. The bed looked thoroughly lived in, its mattress and sheets worn, but it was still holding up surprisingly well to decades of use.
Diluc brought him over to the edge of the bed and sat them both down, folding his hands in his lap. He took several deep breaths before he began to speak.
“I’ve already mentioned that this Delusion killed my father. But it wasn’t the Delusion alone. Ursa the Drake attacked my father and I and he over-exerted himself protecting us all, and I had to... he was in such immense pain. I had no choice but to free him of that agony.
“I sought answers for how this had happened, why this had happened, and that led me to the Fatui, and ultimately, to this place. This was where Ursa came to hide and heal. I intended to kill it once and for all with my father's Delusion, and I did.”
“Someone else has taken credit, I’m afraid,” said Kaeya quietly.
“The Fatui?” asked Diluc, and Kaeya nodded.
“Of course.” Diluc snorted, eyebrows narrowing. “Of course they did. I lost everything when I slaughtered that beast with the Delusion; I became bound to this place. I reduced it to dust with the Fatui’s creation and this place saw fit to curse me for it.” He paused, seeming to gather himself and put aside his anger, then he continued. “I was hopeful in the beginning, as I said. I’d been but a boy when I arrived here. One who had recently lost their father and been exposed to the rotten underbelly of Teyvat, but a young, naïve boy regardless. The first time the beast drew a Khaenri'ahn to this castle, I was so certain they would be able to break the curse. And they didn’t. And they didn’t. Again and again. I started to lose hope.
“Then a girl arrived. A sweet, young girl, no older than fourteen, and she did everything right. She showed more promise than any that had come before her. She accepted me, and she accepted the beast, and she wasn’t afraid. But-”
Diluc’s lips moved, but no words came out. Kaeya gently folded a hand over one of Diluc’s shoulders, and only then was he able to recover his voice.
“She was just a child, and she died screaming and begging me for mercy. I remember everything the beast does. Every little detail. I’ve tried to end it all so I couldn’t hurt anyone else, but the beast always stops me. I can't-” He squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t do this anymore. I just want it to be over, Kaeya, no matter how that comes about.”
Kaeya slid in until they were thigh to thigh and gently cupped Diluc’s cheek, running his thumb just over Diluc’s eyelashes, brushing away the unshed tears trapped there. Diluc leaned into his touch, seeking more of it, more of that comfort, his own hands coming to lightly close around Kaeya’s waist. It was thin enough that they almost closed the entire way around.
“If you don't have any hope left, then you can subsist on mine.” He had little to speak of, but it was still there. A trickle of hope that he could share with a man who had none.
Diluc inhaled shakily. “It terrifies me, the idea of taking you up on that,” he admitted. “This entire thing terrifies me. But I will try.”
“Good,” said Kaeya. “Have a little belief in me, just for now. I will do everything I can to break your curse, Diluc.”
He dipped forward to press a kiss to Diluc’s forehead, searching for it through that unruly hair, but his lips had barely grazed the warm skin just below Diluc’s hairline when the man tilted his head up and brought their lips together instead. Briefly, chastely, but unquestionably a kiss, and both their faces were radiating heat when it ended. Diluc’s more so than his, granted, his face almost as red as his hair.
“I apologise,” he said, casting his glassy eyes down at his lap. “That was inappropriate of me. I don't know what-”
Kaeya silenced him by drawing him in again, this time for a proper kiss, sliding his tongue along the seam of Diluc’s lips before dipping it in, exploring the points of Diluc’s incisors and his hard palate and the bumps of his molars. He was unnaturally cool inside, nothing like a Pyro Vision holder ought to be, and he tasted faintly of that grape juice he liked so much, which Kaeya didn’t find nearly as objectionable right now. He relished in the taste of Diluc, the feel of him, winding his fingers into the front of Diluc’s shirt and refusing to let go until he absolutely had to draw back for a breath.
“It’s okay,” he murmured into Diluc’s mouth. “It’s okay, Diluc. Just forget everything with me for a little while. You are allowed to do that.”
It took a good minute for Diluc to recover enough of his bearings to respond. “You make a very compelling argument,” he said, and his voice had regained some of its calm. “Are you certain?”
“After that display, you’re doubting me?”
The corners of Diluc’s mouth jumped. “Fair enough.”
He was the one to renew the kiss this time, diving his tongue past Kaeya’s lips to taste him back and sliding his palms up Kaeya’s sides, up and up until he reached Kaeya’s hair and threaded his fingers into it. He kissed hungrily, desperately. He kissed like a man who wanted to drown, and Kaeya was more than willing to drag him under so he forgot everything for a time.
He let himself drop back onto the mattress, drawing Diluc between his legs by the front of his shirt. The man paused, looking Kaeya up and down, drinking him in, before he followed Kaeya down and applied kisses to his cheek and jaw and throat and wound his fingers deeper into Kaeya’s hair, keeping him still. Kaeya moaned softly, pushing into each touch, eager for more, for as much as Diluc was willing to give him.
He felt it clearly when Diluc started to respond to the intimacy, his cock a hard presence against Kaeya’s thigh. Even through the fabric he could tell it was big, girthy, and Kaeya immediately reached down to fumble his trousers open, eager to have it inside. Diluc did the same, freeing his cock with a groan and a tremble, and it was just as large as Kaeya had hoped and already standing tall and red. It hadn’t taken much at all to get Diluc worked up. Had the man done this before? Was Kaeya going to be his first? He liked the thought of that, the idea that he was the first person Diluc had liked enough to do this with.
“Am I your first?” he asked as he slid his trousers deftly down his thighs, toeing off his shoes in the process.
Diluc’s face coloured further. “Is it obvious?”
“Not at all,” said Kaeya, smiling warmly at him and applying a generous amount of spit to his fingers, which Diluc watched raptly. He was going to need a lot in order to accommodate Diluc's size. He’d taken a few cocks in the quiet alleyways and back rooms of Mondstadt, but none quite so big as Diluc. “I’m simply perceptive, as you may have noticed.”
“Too much, at times.” The remainder of Kaeya’s trousers were pulled off his legs by Diluc, who then eagerly spread his fingers over the unveiled flesh. He touched every inch, from Kaeya’s toes to the very insides of his thighs, and he applied a pinch here and there, smiling at the little sounds of enjoyment Kaeya made.
Once his fingers were wet enough, Kaeya reached down between his legs and slid them into himself. That sensitive ring of muscle initially protested their presence, but he was relaxed enough and aroused enough – particularly with Diluc watching him so hungrily – that it didn’t take long for his body to accommodate the intrusion. Diluc held his legs in position for him, his nails digging light into his skin- a pleasant sort of pain, just like the pinches had been. He took his time working himself open, giving Diluc a show, something he’d never done with any other partner. In Mondstadt, his liaisons were usually prompted by drink and a desperate need to feel wanted, just for a little while, and they’d all had a perfunctory quality.
They hadn’t even gotten to the fucking yet and he was already enjoying this more than he had any previous intimate experiences. Every touch and every look Diluc gave him set him alight, and how appropriate that was for a Pyro user. When he withdrew his fingers, his own cock was standing tall between his legs and he didn’t dare touch it, least he come too soon. Diluc worked him up so easily that it was a distinct possibility.
“Come here,” he breathed, closing his legs around Diluc’s waist to draw him in. Diluc obligingly fell over him, the smooth head of his cock brushing the pink furl of Kaeya’s hole.
Again, their mouths found each other, sliding together, tongues brushing, before Kaeya fell away with a groan as the head of Diluc’s cock breached him. Even that was a lot, stretching him out more than any other cock he’d ever taken, and he wanted more of it, eagerly pulling Diluc tighter against him with ankles crossed at the small of Diluc's back. He wanted Diluc buried as deep as he could go, until the memory of him was seared into Kaeya’s insides.
“So eager,” said Diluc, barely able to get the words out between ragged breaths. He’d begun to tremble and had to curl his arms around Kaeya’s thighs to steady himself before he pressed further inside, sliding into Kaeya little by little, inch by inch, and meeting no resistance on the way. Kaeya had done a good job of preparing himself, and his sheer want helped considerably. He’d never wanted a man more than he wanted Diluc. He’d never wanted anyone more than he wanted Diluc. A little over two weeks, during which he was a prisoner, and he had become far too fond of the man with all his sharp edges.
Though Diluc was looking particularly soft-edged right now, with his half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks and happy little smile. He gazed at Kaeya with such profound warmth that Kaeya thought distantly, in shaky segments, that he wanted to take Diluc home so he could indulge in that warmth for the rest of his life. He wanted Diluc to gaze at him just like that again, and again, and again.
The first time Diluc rocked his hips, it rendered Kaeya breathless; the second time, it drew a keen. Diluc filled him out so well that he invariably stroked the sensitive bundle of nerves within Kaeya with each thrust, sending thunderclaps of a hot, dizzying pleasure zigzagging up and down Kaeya’s spine. Subsequent thrusts drew all sorts of sounds from Kaeya: whimpers, groans, moans, sighs, and he wrapped his arms around Diluc's shoulders through them, holding onto him with all the desperation of a man caught in a raging river.
He shook, and Diluc shook too, trembling sweetly in his arms and making sounds of his own, breathing them into Kaeya's skin. Sometimes, he would close his teeth over whatever piece of Kaeya was closest, leaving shallow divots on his neck, his throat, his jaw, the curve of a pec, the sharp edge of a collarbone, and Kaeya pressed into each one in hopes of provoking more.
Gods, he really was eager. He'd never felt like this before, so drunk on someone. Not even with actual intoxication.
"Diluc," he breathed, curling his fingers and toes as his pleasure coalesced out of control. He wanted to hold on so he could make this last, but it was impossible with Diluc stretching him so wide and driving so perfectly deep. "Perfect. You're perfect. Gods, Diluc, I can barely breathe."
"Kaeya," he whispered back, and that seemed about all he could get out without dissolving into moans. Kaeya needn't have worried about coming fast: they were both hurtling toward the precipice, and neither of them would be able to hold back much longer.
Kaeya pushed back into Diluc’s thrusts, which were rapidly losing any semblance of a rhythm. His cock was caught between their bodies and sliding along the smooth fabric of Diluc's shirt, and that in tandem with the pressure on his prostate was too much. He was first to finish, throwing his head back with a cry and trembling all over, his every limb moving and his fingers digging into Diluc's shoulders hard enough to leave welts. Sticky strings of seed fell between them and got caught up in the folds of Diluc's shirt, and if Diluc cared about the mess, he was far too busy being brought over the edge by the involuntary clench of Kaeya’s ass to show it. His seed spread warm within Kaeya and a delicious, reedy sound fell from his lips and travelled up the column of Kaeya’s throat.
“Kaeya,” he whispered again, barely able to get the words out, shivering under the intensity of his finish. And then, all at once, they both collapsed back onto the bed in a spent heap, perfectly satisfied despite how short the entire event had been.
It took all the strength they had left to drag themselves into bed rather than remaining draped over the edge. Kaeya insisted on lying atop Diluc, tucking himself under Diluc’s chin so he could listen to the steady thump of Diluc’s heart. They were both warm and sticky and sweaty, but neither of them cared to address the mess anytime soon. They had the entire day to whittle away, and they could spend it right here in each other's arms.
“I don’t suppose that broke the curse?” asked Kaeya, teasing.
Diluc made an amused sound. “I’m afraid not, but it was a commendable effort.” His hands stroked idly into Kaeya’s hair, fingers grazing Kaeya’s scalp.
“You weren’t bad yourself.” Again, teasing. He’d been incredible. “Quite the performance for someone with no prior experience.”
“Much of that can be attributed to you,” said Diluc fondly. “Your enthusiasm provided plenty of direction. Among other things.” He pressed a brief kiss into the curls atop Kaeya’s head before settling back against the pillows with eyes closed. “No matter what happens, Kaeya, I truly am glad to have met you. If you were the last person I ever saw, I would be satisfied with that.”
A pang of sadness struck Kaeya. “I’m going to have to provide you with a lot more orgasms to feel worthy of that. We’ll have to see just how many we can fit in today.”
Diluc laughed, soft and genuine, and that renewed Kaeya’s good mood. He tucked his arms along either side of Diluc and closed his eye, allowing the afterglow of the sex to take him again.
Kaeya had to return to his own bed that night, but he did so with the taste of Diluc on his lips and the evidence of Diluc's affection littered across his body. The beast said vile, lurid things from his doorway all through the night, and he merely had to touch the faint bruises on his thighs or drag a thumb over the divots left by Diluc’s teeth in order to comfort himself.
From then on, every step he took toward breaking the curse was taken with Diluc at his side. They pursued every avenue, read every relevant book, attempted alchemical recipe after alchemical recipe, picked apart Diluc’s every thought and every dream, and nothing seemed to work, but they pressed on regardless. Diluc’s trepidation grew visibly with each failure, but he didn’t try to hide from it as he had in the past. He’d promised Kaeya some degree of trust, if just for a little while, and he was giving that to the fullest extent that his past wounds would allow.
"That Delusion," said Kaeya during one of their visits to the library. He hated to bring it up, but with all their other routes of tackling the curse leading to dead ends, he had to consider it as an option. Maybe the only way to free Diluc from his affliction was death. "Do you think it could be used in battle?" Every word that passed his lips tasted acrid.
"No," said Diluc. There was some relief in his voice, like he had been waiting to bring it up himself. "It was dangerous to use even before I broke it. It's liable to kill you the moment you try to wield it now."
"Are you certain?"
"I am. I’m sorry."
Yet another dead end. It was getting increasingly difficult to maintain hope as they drew closer to the end of the month. But it wasn't all unpleasant. There were more moments of levity than there were sombre ones. They spent time together, enjoyed each other's company while they could. They spoke idly of all sorts of things, and sometimes enjoyed each other's company in more intimate ways, descending into beds and couches and chairs to satiate themselves on each other.
Through one of their conversations, he discovered Diluc's surname was Ragnvindr. A startling piece of information considering Kaeya lived at Dawn Winery, which the Ragnvindr’s had founded. It was the sort of coincidence that made Kaeya wonder if this was fate, despite the fact he'd never put much stock in such things. Maybe (definitely) it was his desperation showing, because increasingly, he had little else to hold onto except the abstract. Anything more solid was eluding him.
“If you were the last Ragnvindr owner, that would make you...” Kaeya thoughtfully touched his fingers to his chin. “Over a hundred? Goodness, what an age gap we have. What will people think.”
“That I wear my age well,” said Diluc. He looked somewhere in the ballpark of thirty, so he sure wasn't wrong about that.
"How fortunate for me," said Kaeya with a chuckle. "I would enjoy the sex much less were you as old in grey in appearance as you were in personality."
Diluc rolled his eyes. "And you're an insolent brat, but you don't hear me bringing it up."
Since the passing of his guardian, Kaeya had come into ownership of the Winery, and he told Diluc as much. He told Diluc how the winery was run and who it was run by. Not him, notably. It might have been his name on all the documentation, but he foisted all work off on Ernest, who was much better at maintaining the vineyard than he could ever hope to be. He might have been an avid drinker, but he had no interest in running a wine-making business.
Diluc seemed none too pleased with him for shirking his duties. Apparently, he’d taken it all very seriously when his father had been preparing him to take over Dawn Winery. Had even done some shifts at Angel’s Share, which Kaeya had never stepped foot into as anything other than a patron. He didn’t have any interest in tending the bar either. But Diluc’d had the added motivation of continuing his father's legacy, while Kaeya felt no such drive. He’d certainly liked Master Wilson, but he’d been rather old himself when he’d received Kaeya; really, too old to be a parent, so they hadn’t been all that close. The only reason Kaeya had ended up with the Winery was because he'd never conceived any heirs. He’d been tempted to offer the Winery ownership to Elzer, who had managed most of Dawn Winery’s affairs once Master Wilson got too old to do most things himself, but the passive income had been a little too good to turn down.
He told Diluc how exactly he’d ended up in Mondstadt as well. It seemed only fair, after Diluc had divulged his own story. And while Kaeya wasn’t usually concerned by things such as fairness, because he wasn’t idealistic in that way, he wanted to be honest with Diluc. It got tiring to lie and omit and pretend to be something he wasn’t.
So he told Diluc, and Diluc didn’t turn him away for it. All he said was, “That was a cruel thing to burden a child with.” It was... pleasantly unclimactic. Kaeya had bared himself and Diluc had simply accepted him.
“When I was younger,” he said into the ensuing quiet. “I frequently used to think about telling people of my purpose in Mondstadt, but I always convinced myself they'd cast me out for it. I didn’t wish to be expelled from the Knights.”
“You had no choice in your circumstances,” said Diluc. “I don’t doubt you’re loyal to Mondstadt. But as you’re here, I also don’t doubt you feel for Khaenri'ah as well. That is a lot to place on anyone, let alone a child. You deserved better from your father.”
Kaeya rubbed his throat, which was awful tight all of a sudden. “It’s really not all terrible,” he said with some difficulty. “I own a vineyard now and have a fulfilling job. No one in Khaenri'ah has lived as well as me.” After a moment, he added, “And every decision I took eventually brought me to you.”
“I’m...” Diluc looked at the clock, which was steadily ticking its way toward eight. “I’m not sure that’s such a good thing.”
“It can be a good thing irrespective of the curse,” said Kaeya. He stepped up to Diluc, gently cupping his face, drawing his gaze away from the clock. “You’ve told me twice now you were glad to have met me. I’m glad to have met you too, Diluc.”
“How can you possibly-?”
“It doesn’t need an explanation. I simply am.”
Diluc pursed his lips at him, trying to look annoyed, but they broke into a smile a moment later and he dropped his forehead to Kaeya’s shoulder, sighing heavily. “I’ll bring more books down from the library tomorrow morning. There’s some old magic I’d like to look into.”
Old magic? Now they were really were grasping at straws. There was no way, with their limited knowledge, that they’d be able to perform old magic. But he didn’t say as much.
“Of course.”
During lulls, Kaeya took it upon himself to teach Diluc how to paint. The poor man had done nothing but read and sleep for decades; he desperately needed a change of pace, so Kaeya set up an easel in Diluc’s bedroom and sat them down before it, going through the basics while Diluc tentatively applied his brush to the canvas. He attempted to paint Kaeya, and by the end of the lesson, he did have something that looked... vaguely like him, but it wasn’t a very good representation. There was so much wrong with it that it was hard to describe where exactly Diluc had gone wrong in the process of constructing a face and torso.
“It’s... it’s good,” he said, clapping a hand on Diluc’s shoulder. “A good first attempt.”
“No it isn’t,” said Diluc dourly. “You look like a wax figure that was left out in the sun.”
Kaeya wasn’t able to bite back a laugh at that description. He wasn’t wrong. “Alright, I might've been trying to spare your feelings there,” he said, biting at his bottom lip to stifle further giggles. “But don’t get down on yourself. You'll improve as you practice.”
“I suppose,” said Diluc, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. “This is harder than I thought it’d be. You make it look simple.”
“So will you, one day,” said Kaeya. He stood from his stool and plucked the painting off the easel, being careful not to smudge the paint. “I think I’ll prop this up in my room, in the meantime. I’ll enjoy gazing at it as I inevitably descend into nightmares about melting.”
Diluc leapt up from his own stool with cheeks a deep red. “You’ll do no such thing!”
“Just try to stop me,” he called over his shoulder as he slipped out the door, hurrying for his bedroom.
Unfortunately, this was not as difficult a task for Diluc as he’d hoped, and he ended up pinned to the floor while Diluc wrestled the painting from his hands. The man promptly threw it into a dark corner of the castle to be forgotten... so naturally, Kaeya pilfered it from there the moment Diluc was distracted and hung the painting over his desk. When Diluc saw it later that day, he was exasperated, rolling his eyes at Kaeya, but he didn’t take it down.
By the third week, Kaeya’s arm had healed enough that he was able to persuade Diluc to fence with him. To his chagrin, he didn’t win a single session, falling beneath Diluc’s sword each and every time they crossed blades, but he did learn a trick or two from Diluc’s expertise, and Diluc wasn’t shy about giving him pointers.
The fact these lessons had a practical purpose went unspoken.
At the end of each one, Kaeya insisted they take a bath together. And not in just any bath: in that big bathing room he’d found. It was utterly indulgent and exactly what they deserved for maintaining the will to fence despite how miserably hot Khaenri'ah was. The moment they were nude, Diluc would usually drift over to him, eager to touch, but Kaeya always insisted they apply a little soap before they actually did anything. Today, he took it a step further, holding Diluc back with a forearm across his sternum and examining the fine smattering of hair on his chin.
“You certainly develop that slow, don’t you,” he said, though it was still faster than Kaeya, who never managed to grow any hair on his chin at all.
“I shave,” he said, scoffing. “I simply haven’t had time today.”
Kaeya tilted his head this way and that, considering the sparse hairs and how easy they would be to sweep away. “May I?” he asked, dragging a thumb over Diluc’s chin and those scratchy bristles. “I’m sure it can’t be all that difficult.”
“You've never shaved?” said Diluc, audibly wary.
“I’ve never grown a single hair on my chin. Which I’m grateful for, frankly. It wouldn’t suit me.”
“You’ve never shaved,” said Diluc again. “And you’re offering to shave me.”
Kaeya leaned in for a kiss, which he knew would make Diluc more pliable. “Please?” he whispered against his lips. “I’ll take utmost care,” he added, an indirect you can trust me. And that’s what he really wanted out of this: Diluc to bare his throat and show that he trusted him, just like he trusted Diluc every time they came together for sex.
Diluc’s resolve crumbled immediately. He sighed, drawing his hands up to Kaeya’s face, pulling him into another, deeper kiss, their bodies fitting briefly together. Kaeya would never get tired of feeling that taut muscle against his belly. “Fine,” he murmured, then parted them again, waving a straight razor and some cream into being and handing both to Kaeya. “I’ll guide you.”
“Is that necessary?” asked Kaeya, pressing Diluc back until he was seated on a step and then sliding into his lap, his knees tucked against Diluc’s sides. Beneath the water, he could feel Diluc’s cock brushing light against the clef of his ass, and he was somewhat amused to find Diluc was half-hard. He wasn’t difficult to get riled.
“It’s not as straight-forward as it seems.” He tipped his head back as he spoke, displaying his chin and throat to Kaeya, just like Kaeya had wanted. That trust felt as good as he’d thought it would. “Follow the direction that it’s growing in, and don’t press down too hard, and you should hold the blade-” Diluc carefully adjusted Kaeya’s grip on the razor, taking a moment to slide his fingers down Kaeya’s palm. “Like this.”
“I see." Trust and gentle guidance. Apparently he had a thing for both. He shifted atop Diluc’s thighs, suddenly very conscious of every point of contact. “We should probably get this out of the way, too,” he said, sliding his free hand into Diluc’s hair and tucking it behind his ears, then pushing his fringe back as well, unveiling Diluc’s face. He looked terribly handsome this way.
Diluc accommodated this adjustment by tilting his head this way and that. “Use plenty of shaving cream,” he added once Kaeya had finished.
Kaeya swallowed and nodded, carefully setting the bowl of shaving cream on the side of the bath so he could gather a generous dollop onto his fingers and apply it to Diluc’s chin. Diluc’s eyes fell shut as he worked, the greatest show of trust he could possibly give Kaeya.
He worked slowly, ensuring there was a thick layer of cream covering every hint of hair, and he delicately ran his thumb over the rise of Diluc’s adams apple while he was there, just to feel it bob against him. Once he was done, he dipped his fingers into the water to clean them and readied the razor.
The first stroke brought with it a sudden intake of air, Diluc’s chest jumping. But that was as severe a reaction he got before Diluc fell still and let Kaeya carefully flick away sections of his developing beard with the razor. The flesh he left behind was nice and smooth, if delicately shadowed, and Kaeya took a moment to admire it before moving on to the next part of Diluc’s chin.
He took his time, dragging it out, finding simple pleasure in Diluc becoming so relaxed underneath him, practically drifting off as Kaeya slid the blade over his skin. Some minutes into it, Diluc began to hum appreciatively and wrapped his hands loose around Kaeya’s waist, letting them rest there. Kaeya smiled and scraped the razor delicately up the underside of his jaw.
“Almost done,” he murmured, leaning down to press his lips to the corner of Diluc’s mouth, which twitched up just a little, seeking to kiss back. He withdrew before they could. “Not yet. Just two more patches, then we’re done.”
“Alright,” said Diluc, the answer travelling on a sigh.
As promised, it was only two gentle scrapes of the straight razor later that he set it aside and gave Diluc a proper kiss, wrapping his arms around Diluc’s shoulders. There was just a little shaving cream left on Diluc, catching on Kaeya’s skin, but he ignored it and sunk against Diluc, into Diluc, onto Diluc, a silent show of gratitude.
Mid-way into the fourth week, while Diluc was asleep in his arms, Kaeya watched the steady rise and fall of his chest and he thought suddenly, painfully, horrifically, that maybe he loved the man.
They hadn’t made any progress on breaking the curse.
The night prior to his last, the beast was especially unpleasant.
“I told you you’d fail, little bird. I’m going to relish tearing you apart. I’ll make it nice and slow since you insisted on dragging this ordeal on for so long.”
Its vicious promises were punctuated by laughter, but there was a hysterical edge to it, like it was trying to convince itself of its hatred. Kaeya couldn’t decide if it was better or worse for it to have some capacity for attachment.
“Maybe I’ll take pleasure from your body one last time,” it said.
Kaeya shuddered. Definitely worse.
They decided their battle should take place in the ballroom, where they had made their first tentative steps into each other's arms. Or perhaps that’s what they’d been doing the entire time, but it was only during that dance that whatever feelings they’d held for each other had started to burgeon into something more. Despite everything, despite the fate he was about to face, Kaeya couldn’t bring himself to regret developing such fondness for Diluc.
The lights flickered gently off the marble flooring as they made their way into the middle of the ballroom. Kaeya took one last, lingering look at its beauty before he came to a stop before Diluc, the sword he’d brought all those weeks ago hanging loose in his hand. He’d sharpened and polished it in preparation for tonight. It would slice through flesh and muscle easily, should he manage to get in a hit before he was felled.
He was afraid, his skin clammy and veins full of ice. The beast had promised him a slow, painful death, and he was sure it would make good on that threat. But he wouldn’t run; he wouldn’t hide; he wouldn’t take the cowards way out, because this was his last chance to free Diluc of the beast. The only option left to them. He had to take it. He had to try, one last time.
Everything about Diluc conveyed defeat, from the slump of his shoulders to his refusal to look at Kaeya. He didn’t cry. He’d probably run out of tears yesterday, where he’d locked himself up in his room and emerged some time later with red-rimmed eyes.
Kaeya closed the distance between them and claimed Diluc’s lips in one last kiss. The man kissed back, slow and gentle and lingering, but they didn’t have much longer, so they had to break away sooner than either of them would have liked.
Taking a shuddering breath, Diluc retreated several feet. “Fight with all your might, Kaeya Alberich.”
“I’ll fight until the very end,” he promised Diluc.
There were no clocks in the ballroom. There was no need for them, either, because it became clear it was time when Diluc suddenly dipped forward with hands in his hair and clawed and tugged at it, his movements frenzied as familiar wisps of black crept over his body and blackened his flesh. He made low, guttural sounds, full of distress and pain and Kaeya could barely stand to hear them.
He willed his hands to stop shaking and took several more steps back, his heart hammering madly against his rib cage.
The black rapidly encased Diluc’s arm and shoulder and eyes began to bloom on it one at a time, the lids peeling apart like a most macabre flower. Kaeya looked away before they could fix their compelling gaze on him, watching Diluc’s reflection in the marble. Further eyes sprouted; teeth grew, and finally the beast turned toward him with a snap of its teeth. He tightened his hand around his weapon. If he was fast enough, he just might be able to strike the beast before it registered his approach.
So he surged forward. His blade struck home and drew a roar of pain, but he could tell it’d been a superficial wound, not nearly enough to cause the beast any problems. It responded by swinging its shadow-encased fist into his side and sending him flying, and he struck the ground with a great thump that sent pain shuddering up and down his arm- the one he’d injured, no less. That didn’t stop him from clambering to his feet and raising his blade again though, and when he looked in the reflection this time, there was a ragged tear in the arm of Diluc’s shirt, staining the white red.
It advanced on him with killing fury. “You’re just prolonging your death, little bird,” its snarled, but its words were strained, betraying grief. “The longer you make me wait, the longer I’ll make it. You might as well get on your knees and accept your fate.”
“You don’t sound especially thrilled about the idea,” said Kaeya.
It bared its teeth at him. “You were cruel to make me love you."
Then it leapt at Kaeya with its arm extended, and it was by the skin of his teeth that he leapt out of the way, those shadowy claws scraping along his shoulders and leaving clean cuts through the fabric. But he’d only managed to turn before it was upon him again, and this time it got in a proper strike, sending him slamming into the wall so hard that all the air was driven out of his lungs. He barely managed to catch himself on a knee, his body quivering as the pain threatened to collapse him.
“What good has any of this done you? Done him?” the beast roared. “You survived a month just to fail him and die! What was the point, Kaeya?”
Was this Diluc talking? Diluc’s bitterness, his anger?
Kaeya stumbled away from the beast, the tip of his sword dragging on the ground. His entire body throbbed. “I’m sorry,” he grated out, raising his sword once more, his entire arm trembling with the effort. Something must have been broken, because he couldn’t take a breath without excruciating pain. “I’m so sorry, Diluc.”
“Useless,” the beast spat. “You're useless."
It came at him again, sending him slamming back into the wall. Then again, and again, and it slowly dawned on Kaeya that it wasn’t aiming to kill him. It wasn’t fighting Kaeya; it was toying with him, killing him slowly, just as it had said it would. It was going to beat him until he couldn’t fight anymore, and then-
Kaeya shakily picked himself off the floor and threw up his sword, charging for the beast once more. And again, he failed, the beast catching him about the throat and throwing him into a wall, holding him there with its palm crushing his windpipe while he writhed and kicked his legs, squirming like a pinned insect. Every effort he made to free himself was pointless. He dug his fingers into its arm and it did nothing; he kicked at its legs and it did nothing. It was like trying to fight back against a wall of stone. Only when his eye rolled back and black began to creep at the edges of his vision did the beast release him, leaving him to crumple to the floor in a pathetic heap.
“I told you,” it said, sneering. “You’re just prolonging your death.”
Kaeya drew in desperate breaths and took up his sword, raising it with one trembling hand. The beast scoffed at him.
“What will it take for you give up?”
“My death,” he said, and came for the beast once more.
The beating continued, and so did Kaeya’s insistence on getting up. He got up even when his knees shook and buckled; he got up even when blood spilled over his bottom lip and down his chin; he got up even when he could barely raise his sword for how weak he was. And then, finally, he couldn’t get up any longer, his body refusing to rise from its knees so he could retrieve his sword, which had fallen from his fingers after the beasts last attack. His head was swimming, the sound of the last impact still ringing through his ears.
“It’s over, little bird,” said the beast.
It was right; there was no fighting on in this state, but he tried anyway, dragging himself up onto his hands and knees and crawling for his weapon. He didn't get far. Not because he was attacked, but because a great burst of light halted his journey. It was painfully bright, filling every corner of the room, creeping into every crevice, and it brought with it a cold that drove past skin and muscle to bury itself within his very marrow. Every breath of that brightly lit air stung Kaeya’s lungs, and when it finally receded, Kaeya found a small trinket clutched in his fingers.
A Vision , he thought, and this realisation had barely passed through his mind before the beast was upon him again. The Vision glowed ever so delicately between his fingers.
He didn’t consciously create icicles. They burst forth of their own accord with a singing sort of hiss. The progress of the beast abruptly came to a halt, and Kaeya looked just as surprised as it did to see icicles extending through its chest and out its back, dripping with the beasts lifeforce. Kaeya stared, and so did the beast, looking down at itself and its mortal injuries, its hand groping uselessly at the ice. It was an unnecessary effort: the ice burst within a few seconds, spraying Kaeya with blood and shards that stuck to his neck, lips, eyelashes and hair. He breathed in, and Diluc’s blood crept into his mouth and lungs, searing all the way down.
The beast quivered in place. The black started to retreat, sinking back into its body, disappearing from sight, and it only managed to utter the word, “Kaeya,” before it collapsed under its own weight. Kaeya gathered all the strength he had left in his body to crawl over to Diluc, tentatively leaning over him.
“Diluc?”
No response.
“Diluc, is- is the beast gone?”
He didn’t care who he was speaking to. He still closed his hand over one of the wounds to try to stifle the fountain of blood there, knowing full-well it was pointless. His injuries were too extensive for that to be of any help. Diluc-the beast- whoever it was, they wouldn’t live for more than a few minutes before blood loss took them.
Their pale lips moved, but he didn’t seem able to form words, instead grunting and gurgling. His eyes fell half-mast, the light in them rapidly vanishing.
Kaeya cradled his cheek. “You don’t have to say anything.”
Diluc drew a shuddering breath into his ravaged lungs, blood bubbling over his bottom lip, spilling over, and tried again. “’S mm-me... Th...”
It was Diluc. “It’s alright,” he whispered, as much to himself as Diluc. This was what they’d wanted, wasn’t it? “It’s alright. Don’t force yourself for my benefit. You’re already in too much pain.”
“Tha... nk...”
The tears came on so fast that Kaeya didn’t even realise he’d started to cry until the first drop fell upon Diluc’s cheek, sliding down to soak into the collar of Diluc’s shirt. Another followed, and then another, and then Kaeya was outright weeping, his entire body wracked by the force of them.
“I’m sorry,” he said, gasping each word. “I’m sorry, Diluc.”
“I'm h...ha...” Diluc’s eyelids trembled and shut, and instead of words, he made one last, shaky gesture to the ground beneath himself, at the black steadily evacuating his body to sink away into nothing. It was carried away on something that gleamed and shimmered under the candlelight-
“Tears,” he murmured, a few more drops dripping off his chin and onto Diluc, who had fallen still, head lulling against Kaeya’s thigh. His chest stuttered twice more before falling as motionless as the rest of him.
Rain.
Dark.
Was this the solution all along? Had Diluc always meant to die at the hand of someone he loved? He couldn’t think of anything crueller. How fitting, for a place as cruel and merciless as Khaenri'ah.
He bent over Diluc, bringing their foreheads together and stroking that long, silky hair of his, trying to burn the feel of it into his memory. He wanted to kiss him, but he knew all he’d taste was thick pungent copper, and Diluc’s mouth would be as cold and lifeless as the marble he was kneeling on.
“Please,” he whispered, to anyone and anything that would listen. This was what Diluc had wanted. He’d meant to die, to find relief in death, but Kaeya tried to silence his pleas and he couldn’t. Desperation had taken over. “Please, please, someone help me.” He called for Gods he’d never believed in, Gods he’d never once sought the help of, Gods that had crushed his homeland under their heel. He would have kissed their feet if it’d meant getting Diluc back. “Please. Anyone, anyone, please.” Diluc was turning cold in his arms and Kaeya chased what warmth remained, squeezing Diluc against him. “Please. Please. Please, someone, help me.”
“You two have struggled for a long time, haven’t you,” came a soft, melodic voice. Kaeya snapped upright and cast his eye toward it, and through the blur of tears he saw a bard. There was a bard standing at the entrance to the ballroom, his smile gentle and expression warm and sympathetic. His footsteps were so soft that he didn’t make a sound as he approached them.
“Please help me,” said Kaeya again, desperation in every syllable. He didn’t even know who this being was and he still would have prostrated himself for the chance they could help.
“I’ve been watching him for a while,” the bard said, coming to kneel beside Kaeya and placing a hand gentle on Kaeya’s wrist, guiding him into releasing Diluc. Kaeya did with great reluctance, biting his bottom lip and glancing anxiously at the bard. “Don’t worry; I’m going to help him. It’s time he went home, don’t you think?”
Kaeya watched uneasily on as the bard laid Diluc flat and closed a hand over Diluc’s ravaged chest, a faint glow emanating from his palm. He hummed under his breath all the while, soft and plaintive, and each note carried with it an odd, ethereal beauty. Was this a god? The Anemo Vision hanging from his waist suggested otherwise, but surely only a god could have answered his desperate calls for help?
The remaining wisps of black fled Diluc’s body, slithering away and disappearing into nothing just as the others had, and suddenly Diluc was gasping in a breath he shouldn’t have been able to hold and trembling upon Kaeya’s thighs. Kaeya immediately gathered Diluc into his arms, drawing the man against his chest and holding him as tight as his battered body would allow.
Diluc’s eyes didn’t open. He was still unconscious, still severely injured, but he was alive.
“You- you cured him?”
“No,” said the bard. “You did that. I just made the process a little quicker.” He rose back to his knees, wobbling slightly. “Take care of him. The beast held on tight. He’s going to need a lot of care.”
“Thank you,” Kaeya began to say, but when he raised his head to address the bard, they were gone.
In his arms, Diluc began to cough.
Kaeya had to be careful while leading Diluc up Starsnatch Cliff. It was a steep incline, with numerous rocks and holes and patches of uneven ground, and an unvigilant climber was liable to take a nasty tumble all the way back down. Making the journey while blindfolded was downright perilous, but Diluc was doing just that, because Kaeya wanted the setup he’d prepared at the very top to be a surprise. He wasn’t going to let a little risk ruin it. Their relationship was founded on risk, so it felt appropriate that there should be a little here, on their first-year anniversary.
A great deal had changed since he’d brought Diluc home. Ownership of Dawn Winery had returned to Ragnvindr hands and Diluc had moved into the estate, taking up half of Kaeya’s bed. Diluc had also started doing shifts at Angel’s Share when he wasn’t occupied with pursuing the Fatui threat, and recently, Mondstadt had gained a vigilante (one that, curiously enough, looked an awful lot like Diluc, and tended to show up during Diluc’s off-hours). Kaeya was theorised to have a very close relationship with this mysterious masked vigilante.
Most importantly, they were both happier now than they’d ever been. Despite Master Wilson’s best efforts to make him feel welcome, Kaeya had always regarded himself as an outsider in Mondstadt. A traveller who’d simply refused to go away, and still refused, even when he had doubts about deserving to be there. But he no longer had such doubts. Diluc had brushed them all away, assured him time and again, this is your home.
They had hard days, of course. How could they not after everything they’d been through? They had days where they would wake screaming from unseen threats; days where they found themselves uncertain, afraid, wary in the ways their minds had cultivated for years. But they had each other for stability now, and they never failed to help the other navigate their way out of the dark.
He caught Diluc by a shoulder when he slipped a little toward the top of Starsnatch Cliff. They shared a laugh at this before trudging on, heaving themselves up the rest of the way, clutching each other to prevent any further mishaps. In the end, they reached the very tip without incident, and Kaeya gently and carefully guided Diluc into kneeling on a picnic blanket, on which he’d already set up some wine and glasses. Well- fruit juice for Diluc, since he didn’t like to partake in drink. He’d discovered during a social function where Diluc had felt obligated to drink a glass or two of a fellow vineyard owners wine that he was hilariously lightweight. That evening had been spent gently stroking Diluc’s back while he emptied his stomach into a toilet bowl.
He guided Diluc into facing northwest over the cliff, so he was looking across the thick forests of Stormbearer Mountains. Then, leaning his chin on Diluc’s shoulder, he removed the blindfold. The man drew in a gasping breath at the view and blinked rapidly against the sting of the sun. He looked first across those beautiful thick mountains dotted with trees and fauna and the sparsest touch of blue from a river, then he turned to gaze out at the endless stretch of bright blue sea. It was evening, so the sun was low enough in the sky to turn the clouds pink and send light dappling across the water.
“I thought you might appreciate the view,” said Kaeya, leaning further into Diluc, relishing in his warmth. Now that he’d taken his Pyro Vision back, he burned hot instead of cold. “I’ve seen you watch the sun set and rise from the Winery. Not an ideal viewing point.”
“Compared to this, no.” Diluc closed his hand over one of Kaeya’s, idly stroking a knuckle. “And you’ve bought entertainment, I see.”
Kaeya took that as his cue to reach for the basket of food and drink, drawing it into reach. He’d had Adelinde prepare some finger foods to nibble on while out here. Sandwiches, cold cuts, fruits and vegetables, all carefully and aesthetically portioned. Adelinde could make the most mundane things look incredible.
Diluc selected a strawberry, taking a bite out of it with an appreciative hum. “You’ve prepared quite the meal.” After a pause, he added, “Tunner wanted a word with me tonight. I fear I'll be late to it.”
“You waited a century for this. I think he can stand to wait a little too, don’t you?” said Kaeya, stealing the rest of the strawberry for himself and swallowing it with relish. Adelinde must have soaked it in sugar flower concentration, because it tasted divine. “We can have an hour or two to ourselves.”
Diluc smiled one of the soft, warm smiles that Kaeya loved so much and turned to curl an arm around Kaeya’s waist, drawing him into his lap. His next words were murmured against Kaeya’s lips, full of promise: “Make it three.”