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Jean’s bloody knee still feels hot and throbs with each beat of her heart, but Barbara is crying and she needs to get her little sister home. She lifts up the younger girl, trying to balance her on her hip like Mother does, but she’s barely tall enough to keep Barbara’s feet from dragging on the ground, and her arms are trembling from holding her up. But she has to get her home, so she puts the pain at the back of her mind and focuses on soothing Barbara while she staggers home.
Mother is in the next room. Jean can hear her sighing as she sets out pots and pans. “Mother! Look what I learnt today!” She grabs her wooden training sword and runs into the kitchen, ready to show off the new parry she had practised long after the Knights’ training session for the younger children of Mondstadt had ended. Her mother, face lined with exhaustion and annoyance, shoos her out of the kitchen instead. “Show me after you’ve practised it some more, Jean. I want to see you at your best.” But her muscles are so sore after training all afternoon… It didn’t matter. She would practise more to make her mother proud.
Just one more page… Jean can barely keep her eyes open, but her desire to escape her worries a little longer forces her to focus on the words in front of her. She should be asleep, resting before the Knights’ tryouts the next day, but her brain wouldn’t stop bombarding her with what-if scenarios that made her heart race, and the only solace she had was the novel in front of her. She tried to focus on how carefree and happy the heroine was now that she had found her love. But she couldn’t ignore the sinking realisation that she had never experienced what this woman was feeling. Happiness, yes, when she had mastered a new technique or was entrusted by an adult to complete a task, but she didn’t know what it would be like not to have worry in the back of her mind.
It felt like there was dandelion fluff stuck in Jean’s throat. She coughed, pushing her focus back towards Aether’s explanation of the tasks they had been asked to relay to her. There’s a tingling sensation in her hands that made it difficult to grip her quill, and her vision kept blurring at the edges. Her head was pounding.
She hadn’t had a chance to get to bed at her usual hour for quite some time because of the increased Fatui presence and the extra meetings she’s been holding with her captains, not to mention going over the research Lisa has been doing on Khaenri’ah after Aether’s experiences in Liyue and with the mysterious Dainsleif.
It didn’t matter, she told herself. Regardless of how she’s feeling, she was still on duty and as such must be present and capable. She coughed again, wincing when pain seared through her head. Aether looked at her, concerned, and she tried to tell them not to worry, that she will be fine and just needs some water and to stretch her legs. But nothing came out. While she was still puzzling out why she wasn’t speaking, she felt herself fall forward, but her arms were numb and she couldn’t catch herself. Darkness crowded in.
Jean felt a soft surface under her head. There was a slight, soft weight over her body. She tried to open her eyes, but they were so heavy that she only managed a glimpse of soft sunlight through a window and an unfamiliar room before they fell closed and she gave in to the darkness again.
The next time she regained consciousness, opening her eyes was easier, and she managed to look around for long enough to realise where she was. Tthe Church infirmary – at least, that’s her suspicion because she’s only ever been in the private rooms a few times when visiting some of her knights who had suffered a serious injury.
“Jean?” She recognised that voice, even though she didn’t hear it as often as she would have liked to.
Barbara entered her line of vision. “You’re in one of the Church infirmary’s rooms. You collapsed in your office.”
Jean’s stomach dropped and a wave of nausea came over her. Collapsed? She was weaker than she thought. She’d failed the Knights; she’d failed Mondstadt. How could she guard them if she wasn’t strong enough to get through a day of work?
“Jean? Do you hear me?” Barbara asked, concern evident in her eyes and furrowed brow.
She tried to clear her throat, but it hurt. She just nodded.
Barbara seemed to understand. “Here’s some water. You need to drink.” She helped Jean take some sips from a glass of cool water.
“How did I get here?” She asked, looking around and trying not to meet Barbara’s eyes.
“Aether brought you. They were extremely worried about you. I was worried as well.” Barbara almost whispered the last sentence, shoulders slumping a little.
Jean’s nausea worsened. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I hope I didn’t cause too much of an inconvenience. “
“Not at all.” It seemed like Barbara wanted to say more, but she turned to the small table next to Jean’s bed instead. “I’ll leave you to rest. There’s some more water next to you, and I’ll bring you something to eat in a little while.”
“Thank you,” was all Jean could think of to say.
She briefly entertained the idea of leaving the infirmary and returning to her own quarters, but her head still ached and the nausea kept her from even trying to sit up, let alone stand.
Now that she couldn’t forge ahead with whatever new task was on her daily agenda, Jean was forced to listen to her thoughts. All the little voices that she could usually drown out because if she kept working and striving to be everything that Mondstadt and the Knights needed her to be, she was making up for the fact that she couldn’t be everything that everyone needed. To just… stop… and not work at anything, meant that Jean was accepting that she wasn’t able to help all the people who needed her.
Vennessa would never have accepted that. Jean never wanted to – she was the Dandelion Knight; the Acting Grand Master. Varka had thought that she would be able to be everything that Mondstadt needed, and so she must always strive to be that.
She needed to be a firm authority figure that other nations would respect.
She needed to guide Klee and teach her the responsibility that came with being a Knight of Favonius.
She needed to give the other Knights orders that were fair and clear so that they would all be able to do their duties.
She needed, she needed, she needed… No, that wasn’t right. Mondstadt needed all those things. She should not place herself in a position of importance in those statements. She should be ready and capable to fulfil those statements, not thinking about herself.
But what if she couldn’t?
What if, despite all her striving, and all her prayers to Barbatos and to Vennessa, she wasn’t enough?
Jean didn’t realise she was crying until the sobs started sending stabs of pain through her head and chest.
Barbara came to check on her a while after she had calmed her outward appearance. Jean thanked her for her help, dutifully ate the toast and soup that had been prepared for her, and then collected her things and left.
Her body let her know that she had made the wrong decision, but she needed to go the Great Tree. Again with this needing… have I forgotten “For Mondstadt, as always”?
The whispers of the wind through the Great Tree soothed her as it always did. She still felt weak, but she had hope again. Even if she wasn’t enough now, she was Jean Gunnhildr, the Dandelion Knight. Successor to Vennessa and Acting Grand Master of Mondstadt.
No matter how often she questioned her hesitancy to reach out to Barbara, or if she was doing her family justice, or if she was the right person to be taking care of Mondstadt, she could come here to this tree. To breathe in the wind as Vennessa had done.
It helped her remember that Vennessa had been a person once, not just the hero of Mondstadt’s stories – a person, who had thought and felt just as Jean herself did. Someone who was uncertain or afraid sometimes, and made mistakes. She liked to think sometimes that Vennessa knew how she was feeling – after all, she too had shouldered responsibility for the greater good of this city. She would understand that even if Jean didn’t always feel confident, she would always do her best.
She might not be perfect or enough yet – but she would never stop caring for Mondstadt; for its ideals and its people, who had raised her and inspired her to become a Knight.
Jean looked down at her sword. The wind whistled past, whining past the blade.
She was the Lionfang Knight as well as the Dandelion Knight – ready to defend and care with everything she had to give. The wind would not lead her astray.