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He’s been a Ragnvindr for almost a year now. His speaking is no longer clipped, he’s put on some weight – not nearly enough to make up for years of malnutrition, so he’s still fairly gaunt – and has reached the same height as Diluc, despite being around one year younger.
Diluc’s been good to him, which Kaeya knows will only make things harder for both of them later on, but despite that he finds himself slowly warming up to the Ragnvindr heir. They are so different, but there has been some unexpected familiarity between them ever since that fateful night. They run around the grape trellis until their legs go numb, they bicker, they laugh – Kaeya is still getting used to this strange and bubbly reflex act – and just like that they become brothers. Their closeness is essential to Kaeya’s scheme of luring Master Crepus into warming up to him, preventing eventual suspicion or questions about his past. At least, that’s what he tells himself.
Although his life is undeniably decent now, the ghosts of the past aren’t easy to forget. And Kaeya doesn’t want to forget, so he reminds himself of the ruins, the starless sky and the demise that roamed his kingdom of sinners. The memories, still fresh and chilling in his mind, rekindle his resolve.
Even as he sits silent on the wooden floor of Diluc’s ample room in the Dawn Winery, watching his brother play with his pet tortoise along with the Gunnhildr girl – she came to the Ragnvindr winery along with her mother, as the latter often discusses matters regarding Mond with Master Crepus –, Kaeya can’t quite push away the visions of his demised homeland. They come mostly when he’s alone, sometimes when he’s simply absent minded – as it is now the case. He blinks the darkness away and straightens his ears to the sound of their small chit-chat.
Kaeya had already done the obligatory taut over the pet tortoise thing, earning a poor attempt at a retort from Diluc and a modest sigh from Jean. He stayed with them nevertheless, using the opportunity to observe the heirs who would one way or another inherit most of the matters regarding Mondstadt. Therefore, the soon to-be enemies of Khaenri’ah. The thought made Kaeya shudder, in anticipation or dread he couldn’t quite tell.
They seemed too enticed in watching the interaction of tortoises in a box to notice that Kaeya was observing them both. Of course he would be, for tortoise-watching was never remotely an option for him and Kaeya wouldn’t pass on the opportunity to scrutinize them from a close distance without being questioned about it.
Recently something had caught his attention. More specifically, the way Jean’s too fair cheeks gained a slight red flush as she exchanged tortoise related info with Diluc enthusiastically. Her usual silvery voice acquired a high-pitched tone as she listed the differences of each season’s tortoise behavior pattern.
“Where would you even learn that?” Diluc arched an eyebrow at her, skeptical and amazed all at once.
“I have found a book about turtles while searching Mother’s library,” Jean beamed and spared a light caress on her pet’s shell. “Actually, the title says it’s about turtles, tortoises and terrapins. You can borrow it if you’d like, Diluc. I’ll bring it next time Mother comes to meet Master Crepus.”
Diluc nodded and smiled gratefully at her. Jean avoided her gaze quickly, facing the tortoises intently.
Kaeya narrowed his eye at the scene, analyzing, pondering. A smirk surged on his lips. So Jean’s infatuated with Diluc, huh.
He supposed that was the most obvious conclusion. Khaenri’ah might have been a fallen dreamless kingdom, but it had books nevertheless. All his readings, added up to his inborn wit, had made Kaeya quite perceptive.
The discovery represented newly-found teasing material, so Kaeya was rather content with himself. He hadn’t realized he was grinning until Diluc’s suspicious remark echoed in his direction. “What’s that expression for?”
“Can’t I smile just because I feel like it?” Kaeya shrugged and proceeded on increasing his shit-eating grin.
Jean brought her hand to her mouth and muffled a quiet chuckle. Diluc eyed his brother for a moment before rolling his eyes and turning his attention back to the tortoise coop.
Kaeya leaned lazily against Diluc's writing desk leg, and spared one last glance towards the red-head and the blonde, with their gazes cast down in a reptile fixation he doubted he would ever understand.
Jean had the usual amiable expression stamped on her soft features, and, even while sitted on the floor of a boy’s room, she kept her courtly posture, back straight and hands folded mindfully over her lap. Her etiquette classes were, apparently, more serious than Diluc’s – which were now his own as well –, or perhaps she was simply a more diligent student.
Glimpses of the past assaulted him at the contemplation. The Gunnhildr Clan had also been an option whereas being – along with the Ragnvindr Family – the most influential lineage of Mondstadt. Nevertheless, the reported intel contained information about the heads of the respective clans as well, and Crepus Ragnvindr was no doubt more likely to aid an abandoned kid – personality traits and general conduct analyzed and accounted for – than Frederica Gunnhildr.
As he contemplated the sight of the Gunnhildr eldest daughter, Kaeya couldn’t help but wonder – reminded of the elapsed possibility – what it would be like to be her brother. He snorted internally at the thought; it wasn’t like he felt an unnerving urge to tease her, as he did with Diluc, and Kaeya doubted she would give in to his antics. That apart, she already had a baby sister – Barbara – if he remembered correctly.
Time flew by as they filled the room with light-hearted chatter. Kaeya eventually buckled and slided closer to watch two tortoises dispute a lettuce leaf. Jean's tortoise – his name was Dandy, which made sense on account of the girl's love for dandelions – seemed to have won the battle, but the only indication of indirect victory she gave off was a content smile.
Makes sense, of course Jean wouldn't rub it in Diluc's face since she's head over heels for him. Kaeya brood, perhaps with a bit too much malice.
The clock ticked at 16 o'clock. Diluc's head shot up alarmingly, and he strode toward the grandfather clock standing at the side of his wardrobe in disbelief.
“Looks like I lost track of time," the redhead narrowed his eyes at the clock's hands. "The music instructor will arrive at any moment, I must go now.”
Kaeya casted a sideways glance and eagerly noticed that Jean's smile had subsided, giving way to a neutral – slightly resigned, perhaps? – expression.
"Please go, I don't mean to disturb your agenda, Diluc. It was nice playing with you," she nodded and waved wearily at him.
Diluc padded over to the rack and grabbed his violin case. He glanced over his shoulder before disappearing in the door’s corner, regarding the sight of his childhood friend and his sworn brother. He hoped Kaeya wouldn’t nag Jean too harshly in his absence.
A part of him was curious as to how the two would get along though.
Diluc exited the room, intentionally keeping the door ajar in his wake.
Then, there followed a silence that neither of the two remaining kids seemed to mind.
“I presume you’re not fond of tortoises,” she prodded, taking in the boy's nonchalant position, sprawled on Diluc's velvety mat, with the side of her eyes. “Do you have any animals you like?”
He had already pictured her face – red as a tomato – and her quavering voice as he chirped her secret aloud. Her inquiry caught him by surprise, Kaeya had taken her to be too shy to start a conversation with him.
He decided to indulge her for the moment.
“Birds are cool,” Kaeya was leaning on his elbows as he answered, chin resting on one hand. “They have the most freedom, and flying sounds like a perk even I would like to have.”
Jean leaned an inch closer to him, relieved at being able to spark somewhat of a conversation between them.
“Although it’s not exactly the same as flying, in Mondstadt a lot of people practice gliding. You need a mechanism called wind glider for that, it's efficient on wind currents." She listed the info she'd read not long ago on the Knights of Favonius gliding manual.
“Can you glide?” he arched an eyebrow, trying to imagine the girl with the most tidy clothes he'd ever seen and a perfectly – unnerving – symmetrical ponytail swinging to Mond's harsh winds.
“It’s prohibited for people under thirteen,” she lectured, taking the gliding manual to the heart. "You first need to pass an exam and then, if you succeed, the Knights issue your license."
“Then I just need to glide where no snitch will spot me, I bet I would nail it," he bragged, knowing she would promptly object to him.
“If you break any of the rules from the manual, the Knights of Favonius might arrest you,” Jean had the slight impression he was merely teasing, but advice wouldn't hurt. “So I would advise against it.”
Kaeya just laughed and shrugged it off.
“Now that I think about it, peacocks are also pretty neat,” he tapped a finger to his chin, changing the subject. “Their colors seem forged, much too vibrant for animals. Not that I have ever seen one in real life anyway.”
Jean could see the appeal. "They do have an air of pomposity to them, almost like royalty," she pondered and feared she might have been babbling nonsense, but he looked intrigued – perhaps amused too – by her response.
“So, what’s yours?” It was his turn to quizz her.
Jean tipped her head to the side in confusion, not catching his intention.
“A meant your favorite animal,” Kaeya prodded and he would bet all his mora – if he had any – that her answer would be something like bunny or hamsters, if not the obvious tortoises.
“Well, although I do love tortoises," her blue eyes glinted and she clasped her hands in front of her, "My true favorites are lions.”
Jean uttered an airy and soft laugh upon noticing he was gaping at her.
"They represent pride, loyalty and prowess. I've read that in a book," Jean had always amazed at their wild majesty. "Also, they're cute."
Jean muffled a chuckle at her last remark.
Her explanation seemed to ease his confusion, and they were silent again for a few seconds.
Upon noticing the lack of conversation, Kaeya felt a rush of mischief rising. He would eagerly take that chance.
"Hey, Jean," she faced him, her features knitted into a mixture of innocence and curiosity as to what he had to say.
"I know who you like~," Kaeya purred, voice honeyed and full of lilt, a quirky grin rapidly overtaking his tan face.
She blinked confusedly – once, twice, thrice –, processing the words that had sounded so weird to her ears, before a sudden rush of blood and warmness kicked in and the girl melted into a blushing mess.
"W-what? What does this even mean?" She truly hoped he didn't mean what she'd understood at first hand.
"It means you've got a crush," he went on, merciless, trying to sound serious but smirking playfully nevertheless. "And I know who it is."
"H-how is that possible?" Jean scrambled up to her feet, legs trembling lightly. "Nobody knows, I've never-"
"You needn't reveal it yourself," Kaeya jabbed a finger in her direction, as if lecturing a child – which was quite accurate –, and spilled his deduction methods proudly. "Your actions made it rather obvious and, too bad for you, your blushing is just so evident."
Jean covered her burning cheeks, self-conscious. She was still determined to fervently deny it, desperately hanging to the minimal chance of him giving up and dropping the crush subject – for good if she was lucky.
"I don't have a crush, and this word sounds strange," the indignant pout she gave him, amid the red mess that was her face, only convinced him more that he was indeed right about the matter.
"Yes, you do. You said it yourself that you've never told anyone about it," he savored his triumph, glad that Jean had managed to shoot her own foot in the wake of her dismay.
"It isn't true..." Jean stammered, slowly and painfully coming to terms with the fact that there was no way to change his mind now.
There surged a tight pang in her chest, like an invisible force was squeezing her heart hard enough for her feeling to erupt. Dear Barbatos, I'm doomed. She fought the urge to cry, blinking away the prickliness in her cornea, because it was already bad enough that Kaeya had gotten her into such an embarrassing situation – the last thing she wanted now was for him to witness her crumble down as well.
The worst part of it was that it was Kaeya who knew her secret; him – out of all people she'd ever interacted with – acknowledging it was by far the worst possible scenario. Him, to whom she could never have gathered the courage to utter her sentiment aloud.
Well, courage had been thrown out of the window by then because he already knew everything, and there was nothing she could do about it and she felt an intense urge to run away and hide in Dragonspine until the end of her days.
"Shush, I won't tell anyone," the way she had her back slightly curved forward and her limbs rigid as ice stirred something akin to pity from within him. "And, of course, I won't tell Diluc because I wouldn't want you to have a heart attack or something."
"Wait," she mulled over his words, realizing that perhaps her life hadn't been ruined just yet. "Are you implying that I have feelings for Diluc?"
Jean's expression was, as of now, building into bafflement rather than sheer embarrassment. It was Kaeya's turn to blink bewildered, for he could certainly tell that her words were honest.
"Are you saying you don't?"
"No! We're childhood friends, we've known each other since forever." Her thin brows raised upward her blonde bangs in exasperation, as she tried to get through to him.
"I don't think this proves the point you're trying to make," he narrowed his lone eye, studying her overall maneuver and evaluating the possibility that he had been mistaken.
"Why would you think I like him in that way?" The heartache seemed to subside as quickly as it had come, and Jean's heartbeat settled at least.
The way her voice raised and her presence seemed suddenly imposing upon him surprised Kaeya.
"Because you were blushing and chirping as you two talked about tortoises," it had seemed rather obvious back then, but now Kaeya realized that he'd gotten ahead of himself.
"That's because tortoises are awesome," she huffed and crossed her arms. "Sometimes I get over-enthusiastic talking about it."
“You misunderstood,” she muttered in an undertone and sat back down on the mat, cheeks still redded from the rollercoaster of emotion she had just gone through.
That made sense, and now he felt stupid.
"Aw shucks. I thought I had gotten some valuable information,” he frowned begrudgingly, pissed at his deluded earlier conclusion. Kaeya disliked being wrong and he hated misleading himself even more. Bye bye blackmail material to be used against Miss Perfect.
Jean uttered a sigh of relief, silently thanking the Anemo Archon despite his lack of evident involvement. Still, she was faithful that Barbatos had helped her in some mystical way.
Her peace and relief, so swiftly attained, bothered Kaeya. He refused to go down without landing at least one successful blow.
"But, hey, now I know that you do have a crush," he snickered, sticking his tongue out at her. "And I suppose it won't be hard figuring out who it is.”
"Please don't," she snapped her head in his direction, ponytail waving wildly in her head’s wake.
He blatantly ignored her solemn plea for mercy.
“So tell me, what other kids do you hang out with?” Kaeya quizzed with honest curiosity, for he had thought Diluc was the only friend her age Jean had.
It was true, she didn’t have time for other kids anyway, with a tight schedule dictating her life. Diluc and Kaeya were the only ones her age whom she had built a sparse familiarity with. So she lied.
“Many others,” she raised her chin in an attempt of defiance. “Even if I gave you the names, you wouldn’t find out who he is.”
He saw right through her lie. “You underestimate me,” he mused, winking at her. “And now I also know it’s a he, thanks for that.”
“Please forget this,”she gripped her blue skirt sheepishly. “It’s stupid, it doesn’t matter anyway.”
He hummed as he regarded her thoughtfully.
“Okay, I’ll quit the questions,” he faked a yawn and rolled over the mat.
Jean winded up a little, not too confidently for she knew he might just dove right into it again at any time. However, she was surprised that he didn’t find out the real answer, because smart, sly, astute Kaeya was always a step ahead.
“You are a bit naïve, Kaeya,” she spoke tentatively in a soft tone. If her heart wasn't on the line, Jean would have found the situation ironically funny.
It was his turn to look indignant, because he was anything except naïve.
“Are you joking?”
She wanted to tell him. Tell him that he just needed to look right in front of him. That he would easily find out what she was trying so hard to hide. He just had to take himself into account, and that was something – she pondered – that he usually didn’t do.
But a part of her stammered, for if he truly found out, Jean would get far too shy barely looking at him and that would compromise their already fragile friendship.
So she chickened out.
“Yes.”
He arched an eyebrow but said nothing more.
Jean went back to the tortoises she had been neglecting during their brief... exchange of ideas. She prodded Diluc’s pet with her finger gently, enjoying the way the tortoise leaned into her light touch.
“I’m bored,” he got up suddenly, running a hand through his messy blue bangs. “Guess I’ll go snatch some grapes.”
Jean eyed him expectantly, but didn’t move as the boy strode swiftly toward the door.
Just as he was entering the corridor, Kaeya stopped short and popped his head inside to glance at the girl.
“You coming or not?”
She promptly jumped to her feet and, skipping cheerfully, followed him outside.
She’d met him soon after the Ragnvindr family took him in. Her mother had warned her, while she accompanied the Gunnhildr matriarch on the way to the Ragnvindr Mansion in order to supposedly discuss business matters Jean then was too young to understand, that Master Crepus had a new son.
Frederica Gunnhildr’s words were objective, the woman was known for stating only the essential, definitely not one for small-talk. So what Jean expected as she entered the old-fashioned mansion was to hear the wails of a red-schemed baby; instead, she was greeted by Diluc and a boy with an alluring skin tone she had never witnessed before, and whose long deep-blue bangs and piece of back cloth hid a good deal of his facial features and right eye, respectively. Despite that, his left eye was wide and fairly visible – perhaps even more due to the absence of its pair – blue like her own. Whereas hers was a sky clear tone, his was a deep blue with a shade of mystic lilac.
To say he had caught her attention would be an understatement.
The first few times she visited, he had been really quiet. It wasn't like Diluc was talkative – quite the opposite actually –, but was the one to make the introductions on his brother's behalf. When the three of them were alone, Diluc did most of the talking and chimed in when Kaeya bluntly ignored the girl's shy attempts at making conversation. He looked small and weary, but upheld an air of cold grace and astuteness. It made Jean want to ask him many questions, but good manners taught her better than to pry.
She remembered the first time he smiled at her. It had been a silent and discreet, but alluring all the same, smile, that he regarded her with as she explained to him that if you managed to blow all seeds of one dandelion flower off in one single go, then whatever wish you had made would come true. Jean felt an urge to cheer at his unexpected recognition toward her and her musings about dandelions, but kept quiet in fear of startling him.
The single star in his lone eye had glinted and his lips had curved ever so slightly upwards. It made her heart skip a beat nevertheless, and Jean knew right away that she wanted to see that boy smile infinite more times.