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Albedo’s first encounter with Kaeya, three days after he’s appointed Chief Alchemist, is…quite memorable, to say the least.
He’s seen the other quite a few times around Mondstadt—it would be quite hard to miss someone wearing that, to be fair—and has heard his name a few times more. Practically every single citizen seems to have something to say about him. The elderly chat about him dotingly, the Fatui diplomats and the more conservative Mondstadtians curl their lips in distaste, the knights seem to hold nothing but respect (and possibly a little bit of fear) for their superior, the children chatter excitedly about “what Mr. Kaeya said the other day.”
It’s intriguing, to say the least; he wonders what kind of man could have a presence that influences an entire city.
He doesn’t have to wonder for long, though. Kaeya comes knocking on his door himself.
“Captain Kaeya, correct?” Albedo says when the other steps inside the office. He wonders how obvious his surprise is; he hadn’t been expecting any visitors. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
“Indeed,” Kaeya says smoothly, closing the door behind him. He flashes a charming smile, and suddenly it’s all too easy to understand how he won over the majority of Mondstadt. “Apologies for the late introduction. I must say, to be promoted to Chief Alchemist so soon after arriving in Mondstadt is quite impressive. You’re setting quite a high bar.”
“I’ll do my best to not disappoint then.” Albedo inclines his head, and Kaeya’s eye darts to the base of his neck, so quickly he almost misses the motion. Strange…but he shakes it off. It’s probably not something worth asking about directly. “Your visit was unexpected. Did you need something from me?”
“So to the point,” Kaeya laughs. “But, I suppose I can respect that. I only came to ask a question.”
Albedo straightens, never one to back down from a question. “By all means.”
“I may not be the most adept at alchemy,” he begins with a casual wave of his hand. “But I don’t believe I’ve witnessed the kind of alchemy you practice. Where did you study?”
It’s not the first time he’s been asked this question—the librarian, Lisa, had asked with a catlike curiosity, as well as the stammering girl Sucrose he’d met in the same library the day after—and he almost defaults to what he had told them, that he studied under his master while traveling all over Teyvat. But something gives him pause.
Albedo’s no expert on reading people, given his limited experience. But something about Kaeya…the way he asked that reminds him of his master. When she’d ask him questions she already knew the answers to. Not to mention the shape of Kaeya’s pupil…
So this time, he answers honestly.
“It’s the art of Khemia,” Albedo says. “Originating from Khaenri’ah.”
“…I see. How interesting.”
“Correct me if I’m wrong,” he adds, cautious. “But you seemed to know the answer before I—
“Who sent you?”
An imperceptible shift, and suddenly Kaeya’s demeanor has completely frozen over. The temperature plummets, so drastically Albedo can see Kaeya’s breaths begin to fog. His hand is white-knuckled around the hilt of his sword, and his eye sharpens like a second blade, and it all contrasts so sharply from his friendliness and charm from before that it leaves Albedo slightly wrongfooted.
“What?”
“What’s your purpose in coming here?” he presses harshly. “Why travel so far to Mondstadt? If you came to start a war, I will not hesitate to—”
“Captain Kaeya.” Albedo rises to his feet in alarm, not for himself, but for the way Kaeya’s breathing has quickened to an unnatural speed. “Please breathe.”
He falls silent. Something breaks through his aggressive front, something Albedo doesn’t think he’s supposed to see, something Kaeya most likely can’t conceal in his frenzy, something in his star-pupiled eye.
Panic.
“I won’t choose.” He’s quieted significantly, and now some of the aggression is giving way to distress. “Mondstadt is my home. I won’t betray it.”
“And I’m not here to ask you to.”
Albedo takes a step around his desk, then another, approaching Kaeya slowly. Kaeya watches him warily all the while. He doesn’t know the full story, doesn’t know why or how someone from Khaenri’ah is here, doesn’t know why Kaeya looks so haunted at the mere prospect of a war. But he can at least try to calm Kaeya down.
“I came for my studies,” he says, as calmly as possible. “Nothing more, nothing less. I did not come here to wage war. I did not come here for you. And I have no intentions to turn you against your home. You have my word.”
Kaeya studies him closely, so closely it’s like his eye is piercing through him. Albedo grows more and more unsettled as the silence ticks onward, but something about Kaeya’s eye fixes him in place. Like he’s being thoroughly read through.
Then, finally, Kaeya exhales, and the temperature starts returning to normal.
“I…apologize.” His hand falls off the sword hilt. “For the misunderstanding.”
“Your apology is accepted. Please think nothing of it.”
He nods absently, like his head is a million miles away. When he smiles, it’s pleasant enough, but now that Albedo’s seen his mask slip it’s a little easier to see past it now, to see how troubled Kaeya still is.
“I won’t bother you again,” Kaeya says, bowing his head, already moving towards the exit. “If you’ll excuse me—”
“Wait.”
Kaeya stops, turning to Albedo with the same mild surprise Albedo feels towards himself. It’s not like him to reach out like this, especially to a borderline stranger. Perhaps it was out of lingering concern. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to watch yet another person fall back into the shadows of Khaenri’ah’s clutches. Perhaps it was something else entirely.
“I’d like to start over, Captain,” he finds himself saying. “If you want, we can forget this ever happened.”
Kaeya blinks, as if that were the last thing he’d been expecting Albedo to say. “What?”
“Captain Kaeya.” He’s already gone back to his desk, and looks up at Kaeya as if he’d just entered. “A pleasure to meet you. How may I be of assistance?”
Kaeya stares, as Albedo extends what he hopes Kaeya will recognize as a peace offering. There’s that piercing look again, but there’s also such genuine confusion, like he can’t fathom Albedo’s actions, and Albedo wonders what must have happened in the past for him to be so shocked by such a small kindness.
Then, his expression smooths over, and his charming smile is back. “The pleasure is all mine, Captain Albedo,” he says, and this time there’s a solid warmth underlying the smoothness. “I merely came to offer my introductions and my gratitude. I look forward to working with you.”
Albedo reaches forward to shake his hand, and thinks about how impossible a feat it would be to predict meeting someone like this. Someone who wields charm as a weapon with such effectiveness, someone whose true self that Albedo only caught a glimmer of in a second of surprise is more interesting than the facade he puts on, someone who burns bright with something Albedo can’t quite place even in the coldness of inner torment.
He sees the passion Kaeya has for Mondstadt, buried deep, and wonders if he will grow to love Mondstadt in the same way.
He sees Kaeya…and wants to learn more.
---
“I never understood why you did that.”
“Hm?”
“When we first met. It would’ve been so easy for you to just avoid me forever. I accused you of being a war criminal and you just offered to forget about it? Why?”
“It would’ve been unreasonable to hold a lifelong grudge against you for something that seemed to cause more misery to you than me.”
“Mm…”
“Kaeya. Really, it was nothing. Besides, I would say you’ve more than made up for it with all the good you’ve brought to the past four years.”
“Ha! If anything, I should be thanking you for letting me stick around so long. It means more to me than you know.”
---
They don’t get to work together much at first. With Albedo still settling in as Chief Alchemist and Kaeya running around as the recently appointed Cavalry Captain, their duties don’t have much overlap.
The next time they see each other has nothing to do with Knights of Favonius business at all.
“Albedo! Albedo!”
He looks up as he exits Mondstadt’s front gates, and is greeted with a blur of red, a sunny smile, and a strong smell of fish.
“Klee,” he chides, eyeing the suspicious cloth sack she’s holding. He never thought the title of “older brother” would ever be one that applied to him, but, well. Here they are. “What did Master Jean say about fish blasting?”
She pouts. “But! But Mr. Kaeya helped me fish for these!”
Albedo reels back a little. “Kaeya?”
“Yeah!” She beams at his name. “Kaeya’s the best! He taught me how to use a fishing pole and everything!”
He narrows his eyes just a tad. “So not a single one of these fish were blasted by your bombs? You didn’t use your bombs at all?”
“Uh—um—n-no?” Klee shrinks a little. “No bombs at all!”
“Really now…”
“My, what’s this?” All of a sudden, Klee’s being swept off her feet, giggling all the while as she rises to Albedo’s eye level. “Is someone giving you a hard time, little Spark Knight?”
Of course. Considering the way the other children of Mondstadt speak of him, Albedo supposes he shouldn’t be surprised that Klee’s also taken a shine to him.
“Captain Kaeya.” He folds his arms across his chest. “Surely you know the rules Master Jean set for Klee.”
“Who ever said anything about breaking the rules?” Kaeya’s eye twinkles with mischief. “Klee wanted to get you a gift, so we went fishing. Surely there’s nothing wrong with that?”
Albedo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. No wonder kids like him so much. “At least tell me if you damaged anything.”
“Don’t worry. We were very secluded. And it was only one, er, ‘treasure.’” At least that seems sincere enough. “You can try it for yourself, if you’d like. Apparently it makes the fish taste better.”
“It does taste better!” Klee protests. If she were still on the ground he’s sure she’d be stomping her foot.
“You’re right, you’re right,” Kaeya acquiesces easily, lightly tapping her nose until she’s smiling again. Then, to Albedo, “I promised Klee lunch. You’re welcome to join us.”
Hm. He supposes he is quite hungry. And there’s no way to prove Klee’s claim without tasting the fish himself. “Alright. Lead the way.”
Somehow, from there, it becomes a regular thing. Whenever Kaeya takes Klee to lunch, he finds a way to invite Albedo, and although Albedo has to turn him down a few times due to work, he never stops asking. Albedo’s not exactly good or exciting company, so he doesn’t understand Kaeya’s insistence on inviting him to meals. Perhaps it’s because of Klee…
For some reason, Klee likes him a lot. It’s most likely because Alice told her to treat him as a brother—he can’t imagine any other reason why. He doesn’t see himself as someone who fits the image of a good caretaker, and he certainly wouldn’t call himself good with kids. Klee is quite independent already, so all he really does is listen to her stories, answer her questions, ensure she eats and sleeps enough, and spend time with her when she asks.
“I hate to break it to you,” Kaeya says when it comes up in conversation as they both watch Klee chase after Crystalflies (they had decided on a picnic at Windrise for today). “But that’s what big brothers are supposed to do.”
“Really?” Albedo frowns. “Surely that can’t be it.”
“You tend to overcomplicate even the simplest things.” Kaeya leans back on the large oak tree behind them. “You take care of her, so she likes you. It’s as simple as that.”
As simple as that? Albedo mulls over his words. Well, she is a child. It’s probably not out of the question that she sees the world in a rather straightforward way.
“What about you, then?”
Kaeya turns his head slightly. “Me?”
“It’s not Klee that keeps inviting me to your lunches, is it?”
He barks out a startled laugh. “Why, Mr. Alchemist,” Kaeya says, facing him fully so Albedo can see his entire grin. “What ever would’ve made you think that in the first place? It was always me who asked, no?”
“But…” Albedo didn’t think his face could flush, but now his cheeks feel warmer. “It’s illogical.”
“Is it?” Kaeya hums, and his grin softens around the edges in a way that makes Albedo’s insides feel warmer, too. Irrationally so. He leans back against the tree again, and when Albedo follows his gaze he sees Klee, a speck of red bouncing across the fields with sunlight in her hair and spring in her steps, and wonders why his master never told him moments of life could be this beautiful. “I think you’re just overcomplicating things again.”
---
“Why did you ask me out to lunch that frequently so early on?”
“What? Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy my presence.”
“Kaeya.”
A weak laugh. “Well, the first time, it was to be polite. The second time was because Klee said she liked having you with us. The other times…were because I realized I liked having you with us, too.”
“…You’re exaggerating.”
“Klee asked me if I knew how to make you smile more. I could only test my theories if you were with us. Although…I don’t remember when I started doing it less for her enjoyment and more for my own.”
---
Most people speak straightforwardly, in ordinary statements that don’t require much thought to interpret. Rhinedottir spoke in deep probing inquiries that would leave Albedo’s head spinning. Klee and Alice speak in bubbly exclamations of cheer and passion. He knows he himself speaks plainly, bluntly, with no adjustments to others’ intellect; he speaks at the same level to everyone he knows, which seems to frustrate some people (although Klee has told him she likes that he doesn’t talk to her any differently than he would an adult, so those other people are of no concern to him).
He knows how to navigate all that. Even when his master’s questions left him stumped for days on end, or when Alice and Klee’s fervor grows to a concerning level when it comes to explosions, it’s all relatively straightforward. He speaks to more people on a daily basis now than he ever did when he was with Rhinedottir, but they mostly speak in statements, and Albedo knows how to handle those at least.
Kaeya Alberich speaks in riddles.
There’s no apparent rhyme or reason to when or how Kaeya responds. One moment Albedo will ask him about his family, to which Kaeya will say he never had one. The next moment Kaeya will mention something about his father always warning him against not eating enough to admonish Albedo’s often-abysmal portions.
He’s sure he could spend years studying how Kaeya speaks. How he lies, how he selects words that always seem to be exactly the right words to say to twist “truth” into whatever he wants, how he manipulates tone as easily as he does Cryo. How he decides whether to answer a question with flattery or a vague non-answer or a straight lie or even another question. It all comes together to form one of the most complex matters Albedo’s ever personally experienced.
“I slept perfectly fine,” he said once, when Albedo could see the concealer under his eyes, no doubt hiding away dark shadows. “A full seven hours. Quite good for me.”
“Oh? Why so concerned about my week?” he asked once with a teasing quirk of his lips, before Albedo had found out from looking up recent mission reports that he’d spent three days straight shutting down a Treasure Hoarder stronghold. “Have you grown bored of alchemy already? Would you like me to get you a horse so you can join the cavalry?”
“I’m honored that the Chief Alchemist himself is concerned for my health,” he said after evading medical attention upon returning from a high-level expedition. “Speaking of, I’m sure you have several important experiments to get back to, no?”
“Captain Kaeya,” Albedo had said that time, fixing Kaeya with a flat stare. “I asked a yes or no question. Are you injured?”
“I’m perfectly well, Mr. Alchemist—”
“Captain Kaeya, if a limp like that signaled being ‘perfectly well,’ everyone in Teyvat with a sprained ankle would be tap dancing for joy.”
Albedo’s mouth snapped shut, as Kaeya looked at him wide-eyed.
“Er—sorry,” he said meekly. His master never liked when he used his wit to come up with sharp remarks (“a waste of brainpower,” she’d scold), so he’s learned to suppress the urge. “I didn’t—"
He was then interrupted by Kaeya’s guffawing.
“I didn’t know you had it in you, Mr. Alchemist!” he gasped between laughter. It was nothing like his polite chuckles or his snarky chortles or even his surprised short huffs—this was free and unrestrained and more joyous than Albedo’s ever heard him, and the sound stirred a funny feeling in his stomach. “Perhaps we should get the ballrooms ready—ah—”
Kaeya clutched at his side, his hand not quite able to cover the crimson beginning to spread across the periwinkle fabric, and Albedo only sighed.
“Sit down,” he’d said, pulling Kaeya down to his office chair. “I’m going to get a healer.”
“Terrible bedside manner,” Kaeya called as Albedo was leaving, mirth still lightening his voice. “You could at least invest in more comfortable chairs.”
Regardless. Kaeya is often ridiculously difficult to understand. But there are some things he’s able to figure out. One, it’s easier to glean information from him if Albedo retaliates his deflections—it seems to egg Kaeya on, at the very least. Two, once you cut past all the layers of his speech, it becomes less difficult to tell when Kaeya’s the one trying to glean information.
Of course, the second point isn’t quite as useful when you happen to have a sister with no filter.
“You know,” Kaeya says one day, when Albedo decides against going to Good Hunter for lunch that day, “I wouldn’t take offense if you told me you hate it there.”
“What? No, it’s nothing like that.” Albedo sweeps calcite residue off his workbench and into a small dustpan, as Kaeya and Klee wait near his lab entrance. “I avoid restaurants in general. Their portions are usually too large for me to finish.”
“I see.” Kaeya hoists Klee up into his arms when she starts wandering a bit too close to one of Albedo’s still-active experiments, where she takes immediate interest in his dangling earring. “Then, pray tell, what kind of dish is deemed worthy enough to be of Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist’s preferred taste?”
“Stop that,” Albedo says automatically, the way he always does when Kaeya’s language starts getting too flowery. He ignores Kaeya’s snicker. “There’s no need to worry about my tastes. I usually cook for myself anyway.”
“Yeah!” Klee gives a big nod, releasing the earring. “He likes sweet things! And he cooks fish the most! That’s why I always give some to him,” she adds proudly, lifting her chin up high.
“Indeed.” He decides not to point out that only he eats so much fish because she gets it for him. “I appreciate it greatly, Klee.”
Klee giggles, pleased. “Yay! I’ll make sure to blast fish for you every day!”
“Th-that’s alright.” A chill runs down his spine at the thought. “You get me plenty already.”
“Aw…are you sure?” Klee’s elven ears droop. “But you don’t always cook enough for yourself…”
Albedo almost drops the flask he’s holding. “Klee—”
“Oh?” Kaeya cuts in, raising an intrigued eyebrow. “Is that true?
“It is!” Klee’s full-on pouting now. “He’s always so busy working, so he gives Klee money and tells Klee to buy something, and when he cooks lunch he only cooks enough for one lunchbox and gives it all to Klee!”
“I—” Archons above. How does he explain that he doesn’t need as much food as a normal person to function? “It’s fine. I just focus a lot on my work, so food sometimes slips my mind. I eat enough once my work is finished. You don’t have to worry.”
“…You promise?”
“I promise.” He leaves out the fact that sometimes he doesn’t finish working in time for dinner so he waits until the next morning’s meal. “I’m getting lunch with you now, aren’t I?”
“Yeah!” Klee perks up again, as Albedo puts away the last of his materials. “Oh, can we go to the Cat’s Tail today? Diona said she would let me meet the cats, and—”
The topic drops there, and the day continues. Albedo would have forgotten about the conversation entirely, were it not for the box of pastries that found its way onto his desk two days after.
“Sucrose,” he calls out, when he sees that his lab door is open. “Is this yours?”
“O-oh!” Her head pokes out the doorway, mint green hair fluffing at the motion. Recently, she’s taken to studying some of the books in his possession, so it’s not uncommon to see her first thing in the morning. “Um, they’re for you. I-it’s supposed to be a gift.”
“Ah.” He inspects the box—even with the lid closed, he can smell confectioner’s sugar and strawberries. “I’m flattered, Sucrose.”
“N-no, they’re not from me!” she squeaks. “Sorry, I would’ve gotten something for you, too, if I knew you liked those. Is it your birthday? I can—”
“It’s alright,” he says quickly. He’s learned it’s best to cut her off before her anxiety can spiral too far. “There’s no need. Did you see who left them?”
“Um…he told me not to tell you…”
“‘He’?”
She gasps, clapping her hands over her mouth, and the book she’d been holding falls to the floor. “I’ve said too much! I—I have to go!”
Sucrose runs off. It takes two weeks for her to build the courage to make an appearance in the lab again.
In the meantime, though, the gifts keep appearing. If he locks the door, they appear at the foot of the door instead of on his desk. Often it’s a small salad or a slice of Fisherman’s Toast in a Good Hunter takeaway container, or a few sticks skewering cubes of mushrooms and chicken with an aftertaste reminiscent of wine. Whenever his pastries are close to running out, a new box appears the following morning. It’s always something he can eat cold, which is useful since he can’t always eat lunch on time, and it’s always portioned to a size he has no trouble finishing.
Not to mention how the gifts are mysteriously absent on the days a certain person takes him to lunch.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Albedo asks. After the third pastry box, he’d gone directly to the office of his biggest suspect. “You’re the one who keeps leaving me food.”
Across the desk, Kaeya’s grinning smugly. “What gave you that impression?”
“Who else would make chicken-and-mushroom skewers that taste like Death After Noon?”
“I used to put actual fruit on my skewers,” Kaeya muses, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface. “Father used to tell me to use wine instead once I grew of age. Completely unrelated, of course. I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
There it is again. Father. He pushes it to the back of his mind—he’d rather handle one riddle at a time. “None whatsoever?”
“You think too highly of me, Mr. Alchemist. I’m no chef. Although.” Kaeya waves his hand nonchalantly, and Albedo spots a smudge of flour on his wrist, half-hidden by his glove. “If there truly is someone ensuring Mondstadt’s greatest alchemist isn’t running himself to the ground, then they’re doing everyone a service, wouldn’t you say?”
Layers and layers of obscuration, going beyond words, forming a maze of endless twists and turns. But, Albedo has always been a bit too stubborn to turn down a challenge.
“Well.” Albedo matches his nonchalance, without breaking eye contact. “If this ‘someone’ insists on doing so much for me, they may as well just join me for more of my meals. At least then I could repay the favor.”
“I’m sure this ‘someone’ has no desire for repayment.” Kaeya practically glows with delight behind his smirk. “But he would very much enjoy your company.”
---
“I’m surprised you never picked the lock to get inside my office. And don’t pretend you don’t know how.”
“Don’t tell me you wanted me to.”
“I’m just curious. Anyone could’ve taken the things you left at my door. Why risk it?”
He shrugs. “I could always buy or make you another gift if someone took it. The risk of making a bad impression on you, though…that was far worse.”
---
“Did you draw all this?”
Albedo looks up from his cauldron, to see Kaeya peering at the sketches and charts pinned to his laboratory bulletin board. “I did,” he says, puzzled. “Why do you ask?”
“They’re remarkable.” Kaeya lifts one sheet slightly—a sketch of the anatomy of a white finch—then chuckles. “As expected of our Chief Alchemist. There’s nothing you can’t do.”
“They’re just to aid my studies. There’s really nothing special about them.”
“Really?” He lowers his hand to rest it on his hip, and Albedo is met with periwinkle drilling practically into his skull. “So you only sketch out of obligation? You don’t get any enjoyment from it?”
“Well—”
Albedo stops, looking back down into the cauldron, as violet and gold swirl and bubble within it, and wonders if his thoughts would look the same way if someone could peer at them.
Does he?
Enjoyment…was not a concept Rhinedottir spoke of much. She studied the world, and he studied with her, and that was their purpose. Everything they did, everywhere they went, every skill she made him pick up…it was all to further their learning. He eats, and sleeps, and does whatever aids in his survival, so he can live to see the next day, so he can keep working to answer the question she left him.
What does enjoyment mean, to something like Albedo?
“…Let me ask this in a different way.” Kaeya blessedly doesn’t comment on his long silence. “You have an hour of time where you can do anything you’d like besides work. Would you be opposed to spending it sketching?”
The cauldron begins to shake, so Albedo turns the heat down and begins stirring its contents, as he ponders Kaeya’s scenario. “No.”
“Would it be something you’d choose to do voluntarily? On a regular basis? Even without your studies?”
“I…” His eyes drift to the white finch sketch Kaeya had been inspecting earlier. He remembers when he drew it—about two days ago, while standing before an easel he’d set up in the woods near Springvale, as three birds chirped merrily nearby. He remembers the excitement born from the challenge of marking every last detail, the satisfaction of watching his strokes come together to create one final image…the absolute clarity that resonated in his mind. The peace, in finding beauty simply in what was .
“It…would be nice,” Albedo says hesitantly. “To do it more often than I do currently.”
“So you do enjoy it.” Kaeya tilts his head, and now there’s a gentleness to his smile. “That makes these special. It’d be quite rude to discredit your labors in such a way, Mr. Alchemist.”
Albedo gazes at his wall of diagrams with new eyes. Enjoyment . Drawing more, not out of necessity, but for leisure, for making a choice to pursue something else that would bring him fulfillment outside of the choices that had been made for him…he can’t explain why the thought makes him want to reflect Kaeya’s smile.
“What do you enjoy then?” he asks, stirring his cauldron one last time before setting his tool aside. “You seem quite well-versed on the subject.”
“Me? Why, nothing brings me more enjoyment than a fine glass of sparkling wine.”
Kaeya’s smile only widens at Albedo’s huff of exasperation. “Drinking is not a healthy activity to have as a hobby, Captain. I don’t even know if that counts as a hobby.”
“Nonsense.” Kaeya has the nerve to look offended. “The right drink with the right atmosphere? There’s nothing wrong with that at all. I don’t see why my sense of enjoyment is any less valid than yours. Oh! I have an idea.” Offense gives way to a rather suspicious level of anticipation. “You should draw me.”
Albedo arches an eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”
“The real question is why you would turn down a chance to capture a face like this on paper.” Kaeya bats his eyelashes.
“Stop that.” Albedo switches off the flame underneath the cauldron, picks up the nearest sheet of paper, and unclips the pencil from his shirt pocket. “Here.”
One stroke for the head, one for the eyepatch string…and with a slightly-too-dramatic flourish, he finishes the last stroke for the eyepatch itself and hands the paper to Kaeya.
“Is this what you wanted?”
Kaeya takes one look at the drawing and promptly bursts into a fit of laughter.
---
(Later, once he’s confident enough in his memory of Kaeya’s features, he creates a sketch and gifts it to an ecstatic Klee, on the condition that she doesn’t show it to anybody. Only because she had asked for a reference of Kaeya for her own drawings. No other reason.)
---
In retrospect, it probably wasn’t his best idea to venture into Dragonspine alone.
To be fair, the patrollers and wind watchers said nothing about any storms or other phenomena that would arrive before tomorrow. He also had plenty of experience in extreme weather conditions, from the coldest of winters to the driest of deserts thanks to his previous extensive travels, and his, well, “state of being” meant he had more resistance to the cold compared to the average human.
Truthfully, though, none of these reasons were in his mind when he entered Dragonspine. Entering Dragonspine wasn’t even his intention. He’d been on a walk to explore more of Mondstadt and possibly find a good scenery to sketch, when he caught sight of the nearby snow-covered mountain, and felt his very core begin to seize .
Brother…
A hiss, deep in his brain, snaking through every molecule of his very being.
Come…to me…find…me…
There was a tug deep in his abdomen, and a dull ringing in his ears, and distantly he registered the landscape surrounding him morphing from green to white and the snow crunching underneath his boots.
Then, he blinked, and reality slammed back into place like a meteor, as he was hit all at once with a terrible numbing cold, ruthless biting winds, and the head-splitting roar of a Frostarm Lawachurl.
He’d fended it off as best as he could, even as the cold began to sap his strength and as the pain from the wounds the Lawachurl inflicted grew to an agonizing volume. Only when the Lawachurl fell with a mighty guttural groan did he perceive the nearby rumbling, and he’d looked up just in time for cascades of snow and icy rocks to thunder down from the heavens and rob his consciousness with a single impact to the head.
“Ngh…”
When he comes to, a heavy crushing weight is pressing down over his entire body. He tries to move, tries to lift himself even a centimeter, but none of his body parts obey him.
It turns out a better tolerance of cold than most doesn’t mean much when pinned under an avalanche for several hours.
Cold…
Every second drags by painfully slow, but also seems to blur into the next in a strange haze. It grows more and more difficult to hang onto coherent thought, to find enough air to squeeze into his constricted airways, to focus on anything besides the awful cold settling further into him, and he wonders, more than once, if this is where he’s going to die.
I can’t…die yet…
There’s still…too much he hasn’t done. He never completed his master’s final task. He never collected the data for the research he’d been running for the past week. He promised Kaeya he’d come find him after his shift…and he told Klee he’d be back home in time to read her a story to help her sleep…and…
I…can’t…
The worst part…is not the cold, but the terrifying pace at which his consciousness slips away, as something foreign and dark and… unnatural …begins to creep into his body to take its place…
It’s strange, Albedo thinks to himself dazedly. He could swear there’s a voice saying his name, from very far away.
…
The next time he wakes up, it’s to a warm grasp wrapped around his shoulders and beneath his knees instead of bone-crushing avalanche remains weighing down from all sides, and something soft and comforting covering his front instead of the icy ground. He blinks at the tops of the trees passing by above him, before closing his eyes again with a quiet wince.
“Awake, Mr. Alchemist?”
The voice, although somewhat strained, is familiar, and resounds through the surface his cheek is pressed against. He blinks his eyes open again blearily, and makes out periwinkle and navy in the neverending blurring of his vision.
“…Captain Kaeya?”
“Don’t speak. Save your energy.” Only then does Albedo realize that he’s being carried. “I’ll get you out of here safely. I promise.”
“…Why?”
He can feel fingers squeeze his left shoulder. “What do you mean, ‘why’?” Kaeya’s voice is oddly heated. “Why wouldn’t I? Don’t tell me you have so little confidence in me.”
“Not…human,” Albedo murmurs. Above him, the sky is starting to grey out again. “You shouldn’t…bother…”
A long silence, so long Albedo almost thinks he’s passed out again.
“I don’t care what you are,” Kaeya says finally. “Nothing’s going to make me leave you.”
“But…”
“Shh. Close your eyes now, alright?”
Albedo is about to protest, but his eyelids really do feel heavy…perhaps if he let them fall shut for a quick second…
…
From there, he’s not quite sure if he’s asleep. He thinks there’s warmth, a blazing fire struck only a few feet in front of him, even though all he can feel is the cold deep in his bones. There’s a silhouette of blue that stokes the flame and drapes something feathery over him and measures out cloth bandages. But sometimes the flame explodes into an inferno, and Rhinedottir’s shadow dances in the light, and when she turns around her face is nothing but a smear.
Show me the truth and the meaning of this world .
There are echoing screams, and a pitch black dragon curling around the flame like wreathing smoke, and sometimes it’s the green valleys of Mondstadt that appears before him instead of silver cliffs and snowy hills, and sometimes Albedo closes his eyes only to open them to a completely new image that warps and bleeds into the past.
Eventually, the cold lessens, and everything fades, and for the first time he can hear the crackling of the fire as its heat flickers across his skin.
This time, when he opens his eyes, the blue silhouette from before fills out into a full person, and Albedo feels more lucid than he has for a long time.
“Hey there.” The figure kneels next to him as soon as their eyes meet, and then Kaeya himself is there, resting a hand on his forehead. “Can you hear me?”
Albedo blinks a few more times, as more and more of the world comes back into focus. He’s on the ground, separated by what feels like a simple blanket. Dark cave walls surround them, with the rather expansive cave entrance blocked off by a wall of Cryo so thick that almost no light leaks through from the outside. The only opening in the wall is near the top, most likely to act as ventilation for the smoke from the fireplace before him.
He shifts, and what feels like fur tickles his cheek. He peers down at it, then back at Kaeya, whose cape is absent from around his shoulders.
“What…” His throat is oddly scratchy.
“We’re still on Dragonspine.” Kaeya carefully lifts him to a sitting position, settling his back against what feels like a large backpack for support. “By the time I found you, the storm was already close by. I couldn’t risk traveling through it to get you out, so we’re stuck in here until it passes.” His voice sours with guilt. “It was the best I could do.”
He presses a steaming cup into Albedo’s hands, and Albedo is met with the scent of soothing tea. “Thank you…” Albedo furrows his brow as he drinks, trying to process his memories and Kaeya’s words at the same time. “You…found me?”
Kaeya grimaces. “I tracked your elemental energy to the avalanche and dug everything up. It…wasn’t a pretty sight.”
“You…” He dug everything up? The entire avalanche? Even for a Vision holder, that’s… “Why?”
“You asked me that before, too.” Kaeya shifts to sit across the fireplace from Albedo. “Do you remember?”
Does he? It’s hard to tell what was a memory and what was a dream. “No, I mean…why did you come all the way here? Why would you look for me?”
“Because I was worried?” He sounds baffled. “You weren’t in your office when I came by after my shift, and when one of the returning patrollers said they saw you heading into Dragonspine without any equipment right before an incoming storm, of course I went to find you.”
“But—that’s dangerous,” Albedo protests. Kaeya risked coming here despite warnings of a storm? “You could’ve gotten hurt.”
“Do you realize what you’re saying right now?”
“It’s different. I’m not…”
I’m not like you , he almost says. You shouldn’t worry about me so much. I’m not worth it. I’m not even…
Out of the corner of his eye, he catches something white wrapped around his wrist, and looks down. Bandages. Around not only his wrist, but his stomach, his left thigh and shoulder, his right knee…
There’s blood staining the bandages. But besides that…he can also see dust, lining its edges. Chalk dust.
When the memory of what he’d said to Kaeya hits him, he almost physically recoils.
Does he…know?
“I did all I could,” he hears Kaeya say, as he traces the bandage on his wrist. “I’m no healer, and I wasn’t sure what to do when some of you started…ah…crumbling? But…”
“So you do know,” Albedo mutters. He keeps his eyes on the fire. “Then why bother at all?”
“You were hurt—“
“I’m not human.” He snaps his head up to glare at Kaeya, because as much as it unnerves him to reveal his most closely guarded secret, it’s not worth keeping if it’ll make Kaeya endanger himself for no good reason again. “I’m—I was created. By an alchemist from Khaenri’ah. All I am is—is chalk, crafted into a synthetic being by human hand. No matter how you look at it, it would be foolish to risk your real life for an artificial one.”
He’s breathing hard, lungs heaving from the exertion. Around the cup, now half-empty, his knuckles are a stark white.
“That’s…that’s why,” he whispers. “You shouldn’t have come—”
He flinches, then, nearly dropping the cup, as a steady hand settles over his.
“For a genius alchemist,” Kaeya says, barely audible over the crackling fire. “You can be quite foolish yourself.”
“What—” He searches every inch of Kaeya’s face, searches for any hint that this is just another one of his misdirections or lies, but Kaeya does nothing except look at him in a way that makes his heart feel too tight in his ribcage. “What do you mean?”
“You could be made out of anything. It doesn’t change how I see you.” Kaeya’s thumb brushes the back of Albedo’s hand, and Albedo’s breath hitches in his chest. “You’re real. And you’re here, with me, right? And I’d personally like it to stay that way for as long as possible.”
“But—that’s—” His heart now feels like it’s going to claw out his throat. “Life ends all the time. Does its duration really matter?”
“Don’t say that.” Kaeya’s grip tightens, and now there’s a ferocity burning in his words. “If I have the chance to keep you here for even a day longer, I would take it no matter what. Maybe death is inevitable, but that doesn’t mean you have to welcome it when it draws near. And maybe you’re ‘synthetic,’ but your life is still life. You implied that yourself, even if you didn’t realize. So what difference is there really?”
“Kaeya…”
“I can’t believe I’m the one who has to teach you about life, Mr. Alchemist.” Kaeya pulls away, and Albedo already finds himself missing the closeness. “Don’t belittle yourself in such a way. It’ll make those who love you quite sad, don’t you think?”
To view himself as equal to others…Albedo looks back down into his cup. Maybe Kaeya’s right. He always saw himself as a being with life—it’s the reason Rhinedottir saw his creation as such a success, after all—so perhaps…perhaps, even if his body was shaped from chalk rather than born from earth, even if he can’t call himself a true human…
…what did it matter, if there are those who want and would fight for his life to continue regardless?
Albedo takes in the man before him, the one who has changed his worldview so drastically in only a few months of knowing him, the one who inexplicably cares enough about him to continue seeking his presence…and opens his mouth to say something, to say anything that would elucidate the whirlwind of his thoughts, but all that comes out is…
“Why do you call me that?”
“…Call you what?”
“‘Mr. Alchemist.’” He pulls the cape tighter on himself when a shiver passes through him. “‘Chief Alchemist.’ Never by my name. Is that all you view me as?”
Quiet, except for the wind whistling through ice and stone.
“I’m sorry for giving you that impression, then.” Kaeya’s eye softens. “Albedo.”
---
(Three days later, when they make it back to Mondstadt, Kaeya nearly collapses from elemental exhaustion after lifting an entire avalanche and maintaining an enormous nearly-opaque wall of ice for days without rest. Albedo scolds him as soon as he recovers.)
(One month later, Albedo finds the same cave again, when searching for a site to stay in to better facilitate investigating Dragonspine further, and finds Cryo still lingering along the cavern’s edges. He decides to build his second laboratory there.)
---
After that ordeal, something shifts in their relationship. Over time, it becomes more comfortable, more natural, to find the other during breaks or after hours. It grows especially common for Kaeya to bring paperwork down to Albedo’s office or lab to do while waiting for Albedo to finish his experiments, rather than let Albedo skip lunch or go home too late due to his workload. To the point where Albedo ends up giving him a key.
(“Are you sure you want me to have this?”
“I’d rather you have the ability to come over whenever you need to with as little to inconvenience you as possible.”
“What if you’re in the middle of an experiment? It would be quite catastrophic if I interrupted our Chief Alchemist’s sensitive crucial academic matters—”
“Stop that. And, I don’t mind being interrupted if it’s you. If I’m dealing with an especially sensitive experiment, though…I can leave a different sign up. You’ll have to read carefully.”
“So much faith in my attention to detail? You flatter me. You know what would be a good idea? If we had a secret knock pattern so we can both distinguish when—”
“Absolutely not. If you start doing that I’ll make you sit on the floor instead of on my office couch.”
“Since when did you have a couch?”
“Since the last time you complained about my ‘uncomfortable chairs.’”)
Weeks stretch into months that stretch into years, and with them come several drastic changes. Inspector Eroch and several others are purged from the Knights of Favonius, due in large part to the Master of the Knights at the time, Jean, who is granted a Vision for her efforts, leading to much celebration. Grand Master Varka sets off on his biggest expedition yet, taking a majority of the knights and all the cavalry with him (which Kaeya complains about to no end).
And more than three years after arriving in Mondstadt, Albedo meets Diluc Ragnvindr for the first time.
---
“Is Diluc awake?”
A slight pause, and a rustling of sofa cushions. “No. Still just us. He and Father were always heavy sleepers.”
“I…should apologize. For losing my temper with him.”
“You were distraught. I’m sure he understands. Besides…you seem like you have more to say to me in private.”
“Well…”
---
He hears about Diluc’s return before he actually sees him. The increase in giggling from the bachelorettes of Mondstadt about how “attractive” he’s gotten over the past few years, the other knights whispering about avoiding him because of the death glare he shoots their way whenever they pass by, the far-too-excessive cacophony of drunken roars from Angel’s Share about the homecoming of the king of Dawn Winery.
Around the same time, Kaeya starts skipping their lunches.
He doesn’t connect the dots at first. All he can think about is the notes in navy ink that get slipped under his lab door every morning.
Sorry I can’t make it to lunch. Work emergency.
Rain check? Sorry again.
Don’t wait for me.
After the third one, dread starts pooling in his stomach, and thickens with every new note. He’s guilty of canceling a few of their meetings, he knows that…and he also knows how scattered Kaeya’s work schedule can be, both in location and in task. But this…he’s never canceled this many days in a row before, has he? Or maybe he has, and this is just Kaeya’s idea of a prank? Or revenge?
“Humans are fleeting creatures,” Rhinedottir used to say. “Don’t expect anyone to stay forever. Such is life—transient.”
He had hoped…that Kaeya would be an exception.
His stomach turns at the thought, and he shuts his eyes with a frown.
Perhaps this is for the best. Relationships are difficult to maintain anyway. Perhaps now he can dedicate more time to his work, without growing anxious over not meeting often enough or possibly saying anything that could cause a break in a bond. He should focus, and make a note to pay more heed to what his master taught him—
“Captain.”
He almost jumps out of skin, looking around frantically until he sees a pair of blue-grey eyes. There’s a pen in his hand, unmoving, and a stack of papers right in front of him, only half filled-out. That’s right. He’s in his office.
“Apologies, Acting Grand Master,” he says, after taking a breath. “I’ll have this done by the end of the day.”
Jean purses her lips. “It’s seven PM, Albedo. You’re doing paperwork that isn’t due until next week. It’s fine.”
Seven? Albedo glances at the clock on his wall. Huh.
“I called your name four times,” Jean continues, and her usual sternness is rounded out by an unusual amount of concern. “Are you alright?”
Did she? Albedo resists the urge to look at the clock again. He must be going insane.
“I’m fine,” is what he says out loud. “I apologize. I must’ve been distracted.”
“About Kaeya?”
He drops his pen. “Sorry?”
Jean looks torn between a laugh and a sympathetic smile. She does neither, instead moving one of Albedo’s chairs to the opposite side of his desk and taking a seat. “I was actually going to ask you a favor. I know you and Kaeya have grown close, and…I was wondering if you could check in on him. As a friend."
A friend? Close?
Why does it shock him so much when Jean says that? He’s never really tried to define his and Kaeya’s relationship, nor has he ever thought about how close they are, but…
Friends? Would Kaeya call him a friend, too? They’ve known each other for three years now—is that considered long enough for something to be a friendship rather than an acquaintanceship? No, if Kaeya’s been avoiding him then that can’t be it…
“With all due respect,” Albedo says slowly. “I…don’t think he’d want to talk to me right now. Would it not be better for you to go? I would think he trusts you more, given the years you’ve known each other.”
At this, Jean does laugh. A small one, but a laugh that nonetheless leaves Albedo more than a little dumbfounded.
“Believe me,” Jean says, showing kindness in the face of Albedo’s confusion. “No matter what you think, between the two of us he’d much rather see you.”
What in the world did that mean?
Jean sends him on his way with directions to Kaeya’s residence, and ten minutes later he finds himself on the doorstep of a small red-brick building, hesitantly rapping his fist on the door.
When there’s no answer, Albedo knocks again, feeling a little sheepish. Is he even home? Should he try saying something?
“Kaeya? It’s Albedo. Is…is everything alright?”
No response. Albedo bites his lower lip, then exhales. Even if Kaeya isn’t there…he might as well take the chance to get everything off his chest.
“For whatever it’s worth, I hope you are. I assume you don’t want my company anymore, since you haven’t been meeting up with me lately, and if I’ve offended or hurt you in some way, I do apologize. And…if you’d rather not talk to me, I just ask that you at least talk to someone—”
The door swings open.
“For a genius, you can be quite foolish.”
Albedo recognizes the taunt, but hears no bite or mirth in Kaeya’s voice. He takes Kaeya’s appearance in for a second—his usual attire having been traded for more modest indigo loungewear, and the shadows cutting across his face emphasizing the hauntedness hidden in his eye—and realizes he hasn’t seen Kaeya in almost five days. How has he changed so drastically?
“Kaeya? Are you—”
“It’s not you.” Kaeya lets out a short, bitter laugh that dies as soon as it passes his lips. “It could never be you.” He’s not looking at Albedo anymore. “I’m sorry for making you worry.”
“You don’t have to be sorry for that.” He catches a whiff of something. “Are you drunk?”
“Unfortunately, no.” Kaeya steps aside. “You can check for yourself.”
With one more look at Kaeya, Albedo takes a step inside, and does a double take at what’s inside.
Kaeya’s home…is practically barren.
There’s not a single picture on the wall. Not a single decoration anywhere. The living room only has a couch and a small wooden table, and Albedo would bet all the Mora in his pockets that the bedroom down the hall and the kitchen to his left are just as empty.
Could a place like this really be called a home?
“You can probably tell I don’t get many guests.” He sounds a little sheepish, at least. “Anyway. See?”
Doing his best not to make his staring too obvious, Albedo walks towards the couch. There are five bottles of wine on the table in front of it. Three are still unopened.
“Before you ask, two bottles are not enough to get me drunk.” When Albedo turns to face him, he gestures at the still-open front door. “You can go. I promise I’m fine.”
“Is this your idea of ‘fine’?” Albedo asks, not making any attempt to hide his skepticism. “Trying to get yourself drunk in your living room?”
“I did tell you I find enjoyment in drinking.”
“Only in the right atmosphere,” Albedo corrects. “I would think a tavern would fit that definition more than here.”
“Maybe today I just wanted a quieter atmosphere.” Kaeya shifts his weight to his other foot. “If you’re worried about why I haven’t been around, I…I’ll come find you tomorrow, okay? To make up for lost time.”
“I have a better idea.”
In a sudden bout of boldness, Albedo seats himself right on Kaeya’s couch.
“Wh—”
“You can make up for lost time starting now,” Albedo calls over his shoulder. The couch cushions are stiff, as if barely used. “Now that I know you weren’t avoiding me, I see no reason to cut my time short here.”
The two stare each other down, blue into teal, Albedo meets his gaze evenly, in a clear challenge, even as the temperature threatens to frost over. He just sits, and waits.
Eventually, Kaeya lets out a sigh. “…Is it too late for me to say I was avoiding you?”
“Indeed.”
“Fine.” The front door closes with a click, as Kaeya moves across the room to stand where Albedo no longer has to crane his neck to see him. “I’ve been working from home.”
“You have?” Albedo can’t help but look around him again. Why would he choose to spend additional time in a place he very clearly doesn’t care much about?
“Just for this week.” Kaeya shoves his hands in his pockets, the motion making him look a lot smaller than the larger-than-life presence he’s always exuding. “I’ve just had to…figure out a new schedule. Find a few work-arounds. It’s easier to do that here.”
“How were you able to send me those notes, then?”
“Ah, ah.” He wags his finger. “A gentleman never reveals his messengers.”
…Albedo decides it’s not worth it to pursue that line of questioning anymore. Switching gears, he asks, “Why are you creating a new schedule?”
“For fun,” Kaeya says dryly. “Sometimes you just need to shake up old routines. You should try it sometime.”
Definitely a lie. Albedo ignores that, tapping his chin as he delves deeper into thought. Choosing to work from home…in order to make a new schedule. Rather than creating the schedule at work. Meaning, possibly, that it’s not something he can do while at the Knights of Favonius headquarters. Or, it’s not something he wants to do while at the headquarters.
But Kaeya’s never shown any issue with any of the knights before. And if the problem lay within the Knights, he’s sure Jean would have at least said something to hint at that, but Jean had seemed clueless about whatever was troubling Kaeya. So perhaps it’s not the Knights that are the problem, but rather, someone outside of the organization…
“Are you afraid of running into someone in Mondstadt?”
Kaeya’s jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “What gave you that impression?”
So he is. But who? Albedo tries to recall if Kaeya ever said anything about issues with any citizens, and draws up nothing. Unless… “Did something happen recently? An incident, or a falling out?”
“Nothing that you wouldn’t know about as a Knights of Favonius captain.”
No new problems with any Mondstadt citizens, then…ah. Unless he’s avoiding a new Mondstadt citizen. As the city of freedom, Mondstadt has its fair share of visitors and immigrants. People have to pass an authorization check by the Knights before gaining citizenship, though, so Albedo would’ve caught wind of any recent new citizens. But, if not that, then…
It all clicks.
Kaeya’s choice to drink at home rather than at his favorite tavern, the ability for someone to be new to Mondstadt without actually being new…and the commotion surrounding the returning head of Mondstadt’s biggest winery.
“Diluc Ragnvindr.” Albedo doesn’t miss the tension that shoots up Kaeya’s body at the name. “That’s who it is.”
“…Hah.”
All the fight drains out of Kaeya at once, and he slumps against the wall behind him.
“Right in one.”
Normally, he’s invigorated from being proven correct. But, looking at Kaeya shrinking in on himself even further…it’s impossible to feel any sort of joy.
“I’ll get over myself,” he mutters, so quietly Albedo wonders if he’s supposed to be hearing it. The fabric at his arms wrinkles as his fingernails dig into his forearms. “I’ll get used to the idea of him being around again, and when I figure his timetable out I can control how often I see him…stupid. This is so stupid.”
Albedo stands, unable to just stay where he is when Kaeya’s so visibly distraught. “Kaeya—”
“I’m doing him a favor, if anything.” His smile is like broken glass. “I’m sure he wouldn’t want someone like me souring his homecoming. Don’t need to give him any excuse to try to—to—”
He shudders, and his head jerks up, as if he’d forgotten Albedo was there. “I—Really, it’s nothing. Just a silly—just—don’t worry. I’m…”
His face wordlessly begs Albedo not to ask. So he doesn’t.
Instead, he approaches, and pulls Kaeya forward until he’s tucked safely in his arms.
Kaeya stiffens, keeping completely still. “Albedo—”
“If you’d prefer I let go, just say the word.” There are no questions worth asking at the cost of Kaeya’s comfort, and no words he can say for comfort without knowing anything about the situation, but… “This is just…the best I can do right now.”
Kaeya says nothing. So Albedo doesn’t let go.
And eventually, slowly, he feels unsteady arms wrap around his shoulders.
---
(He meets Diluc the day after, when Jean introduces the two of them, greets him with a stiff nod, and resolves to do all he can to not encounter him again.)
---
“Kaeya.”
Said captain ignores him, continuing to storm away, leaving Albedo to keep walking after him.
“Kaeya.”
When he ducks into his office, Albedo doesn’t hesitate to catch the door before it slams shut and slip in after him.
“Kaeya, talk to me—”
“There’s nothing to say,” he snaps, finally whirling around. “I’m fine. I would be even more fine if you left me alone.”
The aura Kaeya radiates is terrifying—he’s never heard Kaeya speak so harshly, has never heard his anger when not veiled by false smiles and vicious charm—but Albedo persists. “Fine? You could’ve died. If I hadn’t intervened—”
“Oh, and you think I owe you answers just because you ‘saved my life’? I didn’t need you.” Kaeya’s eye flashes. Each word is pointed, venomous, aimed to hurt, and Albedo does his best not to flinch. “I don’t need you. I never have, and I never will, and I certainly. Don’t. Now.”
It stings. Albedo can’t deny how painful it is to hear a friend of three years say that to him. But three years also means knowing how Kaeya works, knowing how he speaks in riddles, knowing that for him there’s always something more than words.
So Albedo breathes in deeply, around the hurt, and takes one step towards him.
“Nothing you say,” he says, quiet but unyielding. “Is going to make me leave you.”
Kaeya falters, for the briefest of seconds, before the walls come back up. When he scoffs, it comes out half-broken.
“How benevolent of you.” Somehow, his words have only grown sharper. “You’re not the first to say that to me, you know. I’m no idiot. When you leave, just as he did, and just as they all do, I won’t even bat an eye.”
“I mean it,” Albedo insists. “I don’t know who ‘he’ is, but I’m not him. I’m not anyone from your past. It would be unfair for you to pretend I am.”
“Right. Sure.”
“Besides, you were the one who said it to me first. Do you recall?” Kaeya looks to the side, so Albedo can only see his eyepatch. “I trusted you then. I just ask that you trust me to do the same.”
“Trust?”
Kaeya laughs, low and chilling and humorless.
The next thing he knows, there’s a metallic shing, and a flare of icy blue, as he’s met with a blistering cold blade pointing right at his neck.
“Trust is meaningless, Chief Alchemist.” The tip of the sword is almost directly touching where Albedo knows his diamond mark is. “Especially to sinners. You should know better than to give it so freely.”
“Sinners?” Albedo resists the urge to pay too much attention to the sword, lest his nerves overtake him. The sword is unsettlingly close. “Kaeya, I know you’re from Khaenri’ah—”
“But you don’t know why I’m here, do you?” Kaeya fires back. “You didn’t know I was sent to Mondstadt as a spy , did you? You didn’t know about this, did you?!”
With his other hand, he lifts his eyepatch, long enough for Albedo to see scarred gold burning around a four-pointed void. Even after it’s covered again, the gold lingers in Albedo’s vision.
“I once trusted my brother with my greatest secret and he tried to kill me, and you’d be a fool if you trust me not to do the same,” Kaeya spits. “Trust is meaningless. Anyone who tries to convince you otherwise will either leave or stab you in the back themselves. So if you value your life, Chief Alchemist, you’ll leave, forget this ever happened, and never speak with me again.”
Kaeya’s breaths rip out of his chest in short ragged heaves. The sword remains unmoving, but Kaeya’s eye keeps shrinking and dilating, and Kaeya himself is still so obviously rattled, has been rattled ever since that moment, and Albedo finds himself flashing back to it—
A young adventurer, practicing how to fight under Kaeya’s tutelage, on the Knights of Favonius training grounds.
”You can try any weapon you’d like, Bennett,” Kaeya said with a chuckle, gesturing to the racks lined with used Favonius weaponry. “See which one fits you best.”
”Thanks, Captain Kaeya! Oh, wow, this sword’s so big!”
”Ah, that’s a claymore—careful, it’s heavy—”
With a heave, the adventurer pulled the claymore out, but with far too much force. He shouted in alarm, and his Vision lit up as he did, and then the claymore was ablaze.
“S-sorry! Watch out!”
Unable to control its momentum, he futilely strained against its weight, as the claymore continued swinging downwards, except it was swinging right at Kaeya—
—Kaeya, who just stood there, with his eye glued to the weapon and paler than Albedo’d ever seen him and by the Seven why wasn’t he moving—
CLANG!
The claymore met Albedo’s blade as he flashed forward and knocked the flaming weapon to the ground.
Kaeya was there, speechless, shellshocked, even as Albedo and the adventurer asked if he was alright. And then suddenly he wasn’t, turning on his heel and fleeing, and Albedo called after him and gave chase, but he wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t face him, until—
Archons. The fear on Kaeya’s face…it’s not something he ever wants to see again.
But he can still see it. Even now, behind the harsh remarks and the frosty barriers and the glint of Kaeya’s blade. And he hates that now it seems to be because of him.
Albedo closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again.
He lifts one hand, slowly, with no other sudden movements, and rests it on the flat side of the sword.
You’re not going to hurt me.
“I thought,” he says gently. “I told you to call me Albedo.”
Tense, heavy silence, weighing down like a Dragonspine avalanche, almost completely unbroken as the two stand in the office, with one begging the other to leave and the other refusing to budge an inch.
Then, something within Kaeya seems to shatter, and the sword lowers to his side and falls to the ground, and he staggers but Albedo is there to catch him, Albedo is there —
“Diluc was my brother,” Kaeya whispers, trembling, and sinks to his knees.
---
(It takes almost a full hour for Kaeya to get his whole story out. About Crepus, about Diluc, about the duel in the rain, about Khaenri’ah’s last hope. Kaeya talks haltingly, like he’s afraid he’ll be stopped, afraid he’ll be punished, afraid he’ll be shunned for entrusting his secrets to someone again —)
(Albedo stays. Never once does he let go of Kaeya’s hands.)
---
“Did I ever thank you for that day?”
“You did. Every time you were drunk. And I’ll tell you now the same thing I always do: there’s no need to thank me.”
“Haha, alright, alright. You can’t blame me for not wanting to leave things unsaid, though, can you?”
---
The next time Kaeya draws a sword against him is a few weeks later.
The circumstances are quite different. For one, Kaeya doesn’t point it at him, only holds it in front of himself to stay on guard, and lowers it as soon as he sees Albedo’s face. For another, they’re at Kaeya’s front door, and it’s probably three in the morning at this point.
“Albedo?” The sword is gone now, but Albedo barely notices it. “What’s wrong?”
“Kaeya.” Albedo surges forward, hands cupping Kaeya’s face, then patting his shoulders and down his arms. He can feel Kaeya stiffen at first, but all his brain allows him to focus on is checking that Kaeya’s really in front of him, that Kaeya’s not— “You’re—you’re here? You’re alright? How—”
“Easy there.” Kaeya takes Albedo’s hands in his, and Albedo squeezes tightly, quick to latch on to any sign of proof he can get. “Albedo, hey—” When Albedo’s grip tightens further, Kaeya squeezes back, a quick pulse, thumbs rubbing up and down the sides of Albedo’s hands. “Albedo, sunshine, I need you to breathe. Look at me.”
Albedo does, eyes darting over every detail of Kaeya’s face. Four-pointed star in a sea of periwinkle, framed by black lashes. Covering over the right eye, although this one looks more like a medical bandage than his elaborately-crafted eyepatch. Frown tugging the corners of his lips down and worry drawing his eyebrows together, although that doesn’t seem right, Kaeya’s never so openly concerned, Kaeya shouldn’t be this upset, why isn’t he smiling like he usually is?
“I’ve never seen you like this before,” Kaeya mutters under his breath, releasing one of Albedo’s hands to press the back of his own hand against Albedo’s forehead. Then, after peeking behind Albedo to scan the streets, he asks “Do you want to come in?”
Albedo nods, and Kaeya guides him inside, towards his sofa, promising him a drink to hopefully calm him down before they talk. They run into a quick problem, however—Albedo’s hand refuses to let go.
“S-sorry.” Albedo ducks his head, hoping he isn’t as red as he feels. He tries to let go, he really does, but his body doesn’t quite feel like his own right now. “I…I don’t…”
“It’s alright.” Kaeya smiles, probably to be reassuring, but the worry never leaves his face. “Change of plans then.”
Kaeya takes Albedo with him to the kitchen instead. Part of Albedo feels a little embarrassed to be making Kaeya prepare a glass of water with only one hand. The rest of Albedo is still trying to remember how to breathe properly.
When Albedo takes the glass, the water immediately begins vibrating. It does not go unnoticed.
“Here.” Kaeya’s encouraging him to sit down on the bed now—when did they get to his bedroom?—and wrapping a blanket around him. It’s soft. Albedo wonders if he was shivering. “Drink up. Remember to breathe. Take your time.”
Albedo drinks slowly, in shaky sips. The water helps, its coolness acting as a shock for his senses. He almost closes his eyes, but every time he keeps them shut for too long he can see it all over again, still images of that awful world, burning on the backs of his eyelids, cold and grey and so awfully lonely—
“I—” Albedo chokes, the empty glass nearly slipping from his fingers. “I think I had a nightmare.”
He’s never experienced a nightmare before. He’s never even dreamed before. Rhinedottir explained the concept to him briefly once, when he asked about the purpose of sleep. He needed to recharge, just as humans do, she’d said, but he didn’t need to dream. Fantasies conjured by sleeping human minds, that either please or confound or terrorize. Albedo was curious. In his pursuit of all knowledge, he’d wanted to know what it felt like, to dream.
Never in his life did he imagine they could feel so real.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Kaeya takes the glass and puts it on the nearby nightstand with a small clink. “You don’t have to. But sometimes it helps. To not internalize it, I mean.”
Does it? Albedo gnaws on the inside of his cheek. But talking about it means he has to remember it, and he’s already having such difficulty separating the nightmare from reality even now with Kaeya physically present, but then…what kind of scientist would he be, running away from a pursuit of knowledge like this? He should talk about it, he should, but he doesn’t know if he can, but if he doesn’t then—then—
“Albedo—”
“You were gone,” Albedo blurts.
Kaeya blinks twice. “Sorry?”
“Everyone had forgotten about you…” Albedo lifts their intertwined hands, pressing his forehead down to the back of Kaeya’s hand, hoping the cold will ground him somewhat. “I had forgotten about you. It was as if you never existed. And when I finally remembered, I…I tried so hard to find you. I searched everywhere, I asked everyone I could think of, but…” Blank looks. Empty chairs. “No one knew. No one knew who you were, and then I—I came here, I had to find you, I had to see you—”
“Albedo.” Kaeya leans forward, lightly kissing Albedo’s hand, and the sensation sends Albedo’s head reeling back to the present. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. That, I can promise you.”
Albedo stares, still so breathless he’s practically gasping for air, stares so long that Kaeya’s expression begins to flicker uncertainly.
“Sorry.” Kaeya’s hand starts loosening. “Was that too much? I should’ve asked first—”
He cuts off, when Albedo flings his arms around him.
That world, without Kaeya…he’d felt so soulless. Everything was so bleak, and Klee’s smile had been so much dimmer and he couldn’t figure out why, and his office had seemed too big even though it was technically only designed for him in the first place. In that world, his chest felt so hollow, as if someone had carved out his heart and destroyed it, and when had he given away so much of his heart to Kaeya?
All he knows…is he never wants to live in a world like that.
“Stay,” he whispers, desperate. “Please.”
“Don’t worry.” Kaeya hugs back, and Albedo’s never felt safer than in his arms, enclosed by his promise. “I’m staying until you’re sick of me.”
“I won’t.”
A laugh. “Then I guess I’m staying forever.”
---
(Most speak in statements, and Kaeya speaks in riddles. Albedo thought he’d learned how to tell when Kaeya was lying.)
(When face to face with the Abyss, signing away his life…did Kaeya even think of all the promises he was breaking?)
---
Life progresses at a breakneck speed.
In the next few months, Albedo meets the Traveler, and finds it easier after all he’s experienced to open his heart again to another, especially given both of their “other”-ness. He witnesses Dvalin’s return. He uncovers more of Dragonspine. He questions, he fights, he learns, and wonders how much he still has yet to learn before he can fulfill his final task. He suspects, however, that there is still much he needs to do.
And, of course, as a captain, there is still much he needs to do in regards to his duties as well. Perhaps not as much, as his own alchemical pursuits always take much more time than his Knight responsibilities, but lately, with the increase in Abyss Order activity…
“What’s all this?”
He turns from his map, startled, only to calm upon seeing who it is.
“Ah. Kaeya. Apologies for not noticing your entrance.” He returns to his map, and the scent of Calla Lilies grows stronger as Kaeya moves to stand beside him. “My research has been detecting greater Abyssal energy concentrations nearby. Sucrose and I have narrowed it down to these two strongholds.”
Kaeya hums, following where Albedo marks the map. “Need an extra set of hands? Or, feet, I should say?”
“If you have the time, I wouldn’t be opposed. I was going to ask the Acting Grand Master to see if she could organize a squadron—”
“There’s no need.” Kaeya waves a hand. “I’m sure it can be handled sufficiently between the two of us. Besides,” and this he adds with a hint of cynicism. “We’re short on extra knights anyway.”
Albedo purses his lips. That’s right. Varka’s expedition. “I…suppose you’re correct.”
“I can head here later today.” Kaeya points at the southernmost marked domain—the Peak of Vindagnyr. “I know you’re not planning to go to Dragonspine until next week, so it’d be out of your way.”
“Hm…” Albedo shakes his head. “No, it’s alright. I’m more well-versed in the area. It’s probably safer if I go.”
“I don’t know if Dragonspine can ever really be ‘safe’ for anyone,” he points out. Albedo would be hard-pressed to disagree with that. “We could also go together?”
Albedo considers it. The extra company might be nice, in case of an emergency, but… “If we’re just investigating, it should be fine if we split up, as long as we retreat when needed. When we reconvene with information, then we can plan a coordinated attack.”
“Aye aye, captain.” Kaeya shoots him a lazy salute, and a teasing grin, causing Albedo to roll his eyes. “I’ll head to Cape Oath, then. I’ll be back before you know it.”
It takes seven days for Albedo to see him again.
---
“I had so many chances. If I hadn’t made you switch locations, if I hadn’t forced us to split up…maybe…”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I should never have accepted your help. I should’ve…I…”
“If I hadn’t been there, Diluc could’ve died. I don’t regret it. Please don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”
“It is…it is. I…don’t think I can ever think otherwise.”
“…Albedo.”
“…”
---
Sixteen days after Kaeya left to investigate the Abyss stronghold, Albedo receives a letter written in navy ink.
He almost wants to throw it away. He almost wants to forget the entirety of the past two weeks, because that would be easier than remembering what those weeks led to. He doesn’t want this letter, he wants Kaeya, all he wants is to see Kaeya again—
But he opens it. Of course he opens it.
Dear Mr. Chief Alchemist,
Just kidding. Dear Albedo,
Forgive me if my handwriting is messier than usual. The you from when I’m writing this believes I’m in the bathroom, but really I’ve gone to rewrite your letter. After all I’ve hidden from you, I feel I owe you that much at least.
I’m sorry for not telling you about the deal earlier. To be fair, I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but of course, if anyone were to find out the secret I was planning to take to the grave with me, I’m not surprised it was you.
I’m sure you must despise me at least a little bit for letting you stress so much over finding a way to break the curse. I should’ve tried harder to stop you. But, knowing you, you wouldn’t have given up unless I gave you irrefutable proof, like the Dealmaker’s Law, and, well, I couldn’t really say anything about that without giving up the game. Still, I’m sorry for that, too. When Diluc and I found you at the lab yesterday…it still pains me to think about it. I hope you’re never driven to such a point ever again.
Isn’t it funny, how time works? If someone had told me three years ago that we would end up falling in love with each other, I would’ve sent them straight to the Deaconess. We’re quite an unlikely pair, don’t you think? I wasn’t looking for love back then. All I’d wanted was to return the kindness of someone who showed me mercy when they had no reason to, and to make Klee happy by giving her a chance to spend more time with her busy older brother. It didn’t hurt that I also happened to enjoy spending time with you.
You always looked at me like you were one second away from unlocking everything about me. You had secrets as big as mine, I could tell, but you always spoke so bluntly, about yourself, about the world…so different from me. You met every challenging thing about me with another challenge, in a way most couldn’t or never bothered to. You were so different. You stayed, and I thank Celestia every day that you did.
I’m not sure when it all changed to something so much deeper. Maybe it was when you went missing and I almost lost you to Dragonspine, and realized I didn’t want to lose you ever. Or maybe it was something that was destined from the beginning.
Maybe it doesn’t matter. I know I can be one to mince words, but I hope you believe me when I tell you how grateful I am for you. None of this was your fault. Never once did I blame you for what happened to me. How could I feel anything negative towards you, when you’ve changed my life so immeasurably? You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could’ve been, and for that I can only thank you with my whole heart.
I love you. Forever and always.
Yours,
Kaeya
Albedo doesn’t cry. All his tears were wrung out of him that morning on Starsnatch Cliff. Now, all he feels is…numb. Like there’s a black hole where his heart once was. Like the emptiness is eating him alive.
He leaves the letter on his desk.
Then, his feet lead him to Dragonspine.
---
“You told me…four days ago. Maybe five, at this point. You said ‘I love you, too.’”
“…That I did.”
“How did you…”
“How did I know?” Kaeya looks skyward, pensive. “I think, deep down, we both knew. For a long time. But I didn’t believe I deserved your love, and you didn’t know what love really meant…so we never said anything. And, well…I suppose that makes both of us quite the pair of idiots, doesn’t it?
“So…all this time…we could’ve…”
Albedo’s voice breaks, and Kaeya pulls him closer, until their foreheads are touching.
“I’m sorry,” Kaeya breathes. “I wish we could’ve had more time together."
“Kaeya, I…I…”
“It’s okay. I know.”
Albedo can’t speak anymore, can’t trust himself to say anything without crumbling to pieces. So he bows his head, eyes burning, quivering as lips press softly to his forehead.
“I love you more than words could possibly say.”