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Chapter Text

The bed was cold in the morning.

The entire left side was already made, though the tops of the duvet crumpled at the very top. The pillow on Jean’s left side was fluffed, and it smelled delicately of the perfume that Lisa had worn the night before; despite the subtle messiness, it put a smile on her face to know that Lisa tried her best to clean up after herself before getting up. 

Not that Jean would mind if she didn’t. Her rituals in the morning consisted of stripping their bedsheets to pull them over again in an orderly fashion, a habit that had made Lisa laugh the first time and kiss her on her unsuspecting lips. 

She did just that, anyway. One big stretch over the head, one big yawn, and a sweeping arm over their mattress and her mind was finally alert for morning. She was tuned to the sounds of chatter outside of her window, along with the tweeting of birds that perched high in trees above her. The morning was slightly chilly, enough for goosebumps to raise on her skin, and enough for Jean to make a mental note to tell Lisa to put on something warm before heading out. 

Speaking of Lisa— she was never one to wake up so early before. Or at least, the one to wake up first between them. It made her a little wary. 

But then the scent of frying bacon and eggs hit her nose, wafting in the air and enticing her out of their room and into the kitchen like a rope around her waist. Lisa was right there, humming and reading a small book in between her fingers in one hand and poking eggs around a pan in the other. 

Lisa’s hair was pulled in her long ponytail, thrown over her shoulder with wisps coming out from its tie. Despite the early morning, Lisa obviously didn’t seem too keen on getting up. 

Jean gently wrapped her arm around her waist and pulled her closer in. She rested her chin on Lisa’s shoulder and took a bite of one of the strips of bacon sitting on the counter beside them. 

“You’re going to get hot coals all over us if you scare me like that again,” Lisa warned, and she made a gesture in kicking the stove door at her feet. Jean can even feel the heat. 

“Well, if you paid more attention to what you’re doing—” Jean plucked her book out of her hand and kissed her on the side of the head to distract her, “—maybe you wouldn’t be so scared of it.” She placed the book somewhere in the pantry.

“Mm, good morning to you too,” Lisa grouched, though her affections broke through the cracks of her voice. She flipped the last egg on the pan to carry it onto a second plate, then turned around in Jean’s arms to caress the side of her face and kiss her fully. She made a face when they broke apart, a scrunch of the nose that made Jean laugh. “What did I tell you about brushing your teeth?”

“Won’t happen again, promise,” Jean said, and she ducked her head slightly for another kiss. Lisa didn’t bother to pull away, entertaining her with another quick peck on the lips. Jean smiled gently into it. She kissed Lisa again and hiked the side of her loose shirt up with her fingers, running her palm up and down the side of her stomach soothingly. 

“What are you doing up so early?” Jean asked her, and her voice deepened slightly from the kiss and the drowsiness of sleep. Somehow, her body wasn’t feeling up to the task of getting through the day today. Perhaps it was due to the weekend. Or the strenuous amount of work she had to be put through the past week, though Jean would never admit that to Lisa of all people. 

Lisa cocked her head to the side, her fingers on the sides of her jaw and her lips quirked upwards in a smile that suggested that she had said something amusing. “Love, do you know what day it is?”

“Um…” Jean tilted her chin up and looked at the ceiling, searching for the imaginary calendar in her head. Yesterday was marathon day with Amber, the day before was wrapping up a meeting in the Headquarters, which made today: “Sunday?”

“Uh huh.” Lisa seemed unimpressed. She pulled away from Jean’s arms to turn around and pick up the plates, taking them to their small round table in the corner of the room. Jean followed close by at her heels. Once the plates were placed back down, Lisa turned to look at her pointedly, a hand at her side. “Do you remember what you promised me about Sunday?”

For a moment, Jean panicked. Had she forgotten about a date?

No. Impossible. Jean had every date of theirs marked in red ink on their shared calendar, sometimes circled twice. 

Lisa shook her head, sighing in pretend grievance. “You told me you’d take today off.”

“I did?” Jean scratched the side of her neck with a finger. Her eyebrows shot up with the revelation. “I did! Yes.” She cleared her throat and opened her mouth to speak, but Lisa shushed her with a finger over them. 

“Have some breakfast. Go out and file some paperwork or whatever it is you promised yourself you’d do today, then come back home an hour early and make sweet love to me on our bed until I pass out,” Lisa deadpanned. “Does that sound like a good backup plan?”

Jean nodded mutely. Lisa’s shoulders deflated. “Good, because I’m about to lay my head against these eggs and fall asleep,” she complained. 

Laughing, Jean took her seat across from her. She pulled her chair in and dug into the yolk first, as she always did. Lisa, as per tradition, slid a book closer to her side and twirled the tips of her fork a total of twice on the table before prodding at her bacon. She never touched the book while she spoke to Jean, but she was so accustomed to the habit that it was something they only learned to expect. 

Jean told her about the prior evening in the office. Lisa told her about the new volumes that arrived in a shipment, and then the book she read before she took a nap in the library. Jean finished off her eggs and began to cut her bacon with the side of her fork. Lisa twirled her finger around the rim of her glass while she listened to Jean. 

It was a standard morning for them. A ritual, if it was allowed to be called, and it was one that was familiar and kind to every morning between them. 

Jean loved it, almost as much as she loved Lisa, who twirled her forks first and yawned at every breakfast they had.

She had worried at the start of their relationship about the constant routine, that her habits and regular activities would bore Lisa in the long run, but Lisa had reassured her that the routine was just as comforting. 

However, surprises were sometimes good additions to a relationship, and Jean was to pick up her ring from the blacksmith later that evening. They had spoken about it in the past, but at least once she wanted to see grateful shock and joy on the face of the woman she loved. 

It was the fact that Lisa knew she was much too coordinated and planned with everything did she knew that Lisa wouldn’t suspect a thing, and it was something she counted on heavily. Though, the pledge she made to take this day off genuinely did slip her mind, and she hoped she could make it up to Lisa sometime in the week. She hoped, beyond everything else, that Lisa would forgive her for the missed promise. 

Well intentions aside, Jean still had to get through the rest of the day as unsuspecting as possible. She quelled the nervousness in her stomach to wash down the food with her juice, and she had to put a hand on her knee to stop it from sweating too much. 

“You should go back to sleep,” she finally said, and Lisa’s eyes snapped up to look at her. The glassy look in them made it clear that she was falling asleep. “You look like a dead person on your feet. I’ll get ready for the day.”

Jean got up and picked up both of their dishes, kissing Lisa gently on the forehead while Lisa mumbled something about a book shipment and orange juice. 

Lisa, like a ghost, got up from her seat and waved her goodbye after one final kiss on the lips, and Jean washed down their dishes in the sink before coming into their bedroom to get ready. While buttoning her shirt, Lisa was nothing but a pile of blankets in their bed, her breathing rocking the blankets up and down. 

Jean decided not to bother her. There would be plenty of that later tonight. She closed the door snugly and slowly behind her, then flexed her gloves before heading out of their house. 

Perhaps she should have heeded Lisa’s advice more thoroughly— the darkening clouds that circled over her head gazed over Mondstadt like a flock of vultures, and the humid air made her wonder just how close the rain was from falling to the city. 

The little chime that opened the door to Angel’s Share turned the two heads of the patrons within. Diluc paused for a brief moment from wiping down a cup to lift a cordial hand to Jean in greeting, meanwhile Kaeya sat down his glass to turn his body towards her. His elbow rested on the counter, his placid demeanor putting her just as much at ease. 

“When you told me you were visiting with a friend, I would have never guessed you meant our Acting Grand Master, Kaeya,” Diluc said, mostly to his brother. He cleared his throat and set down the glass, looking straight at Jean yet shifting his gaze now and then. “Shall I leave you two to mingle then?”

Jean looked to Kaeya for the answer. It was his call to be here, after all. Only, Kaeya waved his hand dismissively at her gaze and took a sip of his drink, a wry smile on his lips. “That would be the Acting Grand Master’s call,” he said evenly, and Jean didn’t miss the way Diluc rolled his eyes from the corners of her vision. “It’s your lovely little secret, after all.”

“I wouldn’t call it so much as a secret than a favor,” Jean said, but she cleared her throat. Kaeya beckoned her over to take a seat in front of him. She did as told. 

“Considering I’m not part of this,” Diluc ended up saying, and his two patrons looked over at him, “I’ll just be over there. I won’t listen in.” He put his hands up in playful defeat, but his gruff voice sounded too miffed to convey his passiveness. 

Jean bid her thanks, and Kaeya merely kept sipping on his drink. Jean couldn’t tell how often he frequented the place, if at all. Even for having such a close camaraderie with him for so long, Jean almost never knew what choice he would make in half of the scenarios in her head. But, nevertheless, his cryptic behavior was exactly what she needed— and his unwavering loyalty.

Jean resisted the urge to twiddle her thumbs in her lap. She could hear her mother’s voice in her head now, telling her to sit up straight and pay attention to the person across from her with astute attentiveness. She could also visualize Lisa beside her, drawing circles on her back with a lazy finger and soothing her into her seat. The effect was almost instantaneous. 

“Did you do what I asked?” she began. Her voice came out softer than she intended. 

Kaeya put down his cup again to give her a genuine smile. “It was almost too easy, if that’s what you’re wondering. Sister Victoria almost had a heart attack and fainted at my feet when I asked her.”

“And… and the—?”

“Sister Victoria promised to move all concerts and worships for the next morning.” Kaeya thought about it with a smack of his lips. “You might want to talk to your sister about that though. I can imagine how flustered the poor nun will get trying to convince Barbara to rest up for a night.”

“I will, no worries.” Jean’s shoulders slumped ever so slightly. “You’re a lifesaver, Kaeya.” He really was.

Kaeya only shrugged, but it was clear from the smile he wore on his lips that he was only trying to play a modest part. His fingers drummed on the side of his cup. “You could always do it sooner than later. I wouldn’t expect any less from our grandiose Acting Grand Master to pull the most romantic stunt of the millenia, but I don’t think you need to push it so far back.”

“It’s only a couple weeks away.” Jean scratched the side of her chin in slight embarrassment. “I just want everything to be perfect. For Lisa. It’s the very least I could do for her after… well, you know.”

Their first date was a disaster; the first time Jean confessed to her, right in front of the Favonius Church and with their god as their witness, was just as much as a disaster. Jean had fumbled through her confession to the point that Lisa had to help her with a gentle, supporting kiss, and their date had been nothing short of spilled casserole dishes and tumbles into the water fountain. 

Lisa had looked back on those memories fondly, always kissing Jean on her cheek whenever she ruminated too much on her embarrassment and always reminding her that she wouldn't have it any other way. 

Still, Jean wanted to give her at least a shred of perfection, a shred of something as close that she could give to Lisa to show her how delightful having Lisa in her life had been. 

The perfect proposal, for the most perfect woman for her. 

Kaeya pressed his lips into a thin line. “Tomorrow isn’t always promised.”

“Your concerns are heard,” Jean told him sincerely. “But I promise. Everything will be fine.”

She put a hand on his forearm as he reached for his cup again, body twisting back to face the counter now that their talk was coming to a close. He paused when they made contact, and his eye looked straight into hers with a vigor. When Jean blinked, Kaeya’s demeanor had shifted into something playful. 

“Maybe lose the drab button-up,” Kaeya said, and Jean looked down to look at her outfit. She fished the black shirt out of her closet that morning, too distracted by Lisa to think about her choices too much. “You look like you’re wearing it for a funeral.”

Jean laughed, smoothing out the undershirt self-consciously. As promised, Diluc had their back turned to them, tinkering with something behind the counter. Jean bid him goodbye with gratitude anyway, and he lifted his hand without looking behind him to show that he acknowledged it. 

With their talk wrapped up and a promise for more updates in the upcoming days, Jean left the tavern as she fiddled with her gloves. It was a habit she had whenever she closed a door, and it was something that Lisa had to point out to her. 

The next chore on her list was to visit the blacksmith. The sun had barely risen over the horizon, and the morning was so new that some merchants on the streets were still setting up for the day. The winds were quite strong today as well, and some folks had opted to keep a hand on their hats as they walked past her with little waves of the other hand in greeting. 

It was much too early to visit now, she rationalized. She’ll visit later. 

Instead, Jean came into the Headquarters to double check her work pile. It wasn’t as thick as it usually was, thanks to the diligence she had the prior evenings. Plus, it seemed that Mondstadt was considerably down in Acting Grand Master requests, and no matter how hard she pressed Lisa to ask for the reason, Lisa would only deny having to do anything with it. Regardless, there were still some documents to sign and letters to forward to branches of the Favonius Knights, so Jean took off her jacket, draped it on her chair, and settled in for a few hours of work. Once that was done, she only needed to get one more thing and she’d be home, settling next to her beautiful Lisa. 

It was early afternoon once she finished. She could tell by the chatter and commotion outside of her window, where the knights were pouring out into the courtyard to take their break or to switch shifts around for the afternoon. 

Jean stretched her arms high above her, groaning at the cracks her body made in protest. She made the calculations in her head as she did so: it only took eleven minutes to walk from the Headquarters to the blacksmith, 3/4th that time if she sped up her walk. By then, she’d have to circle around Mondstadt to make her way back home, which was another fifteen or so minutes, speed-walking included. All in all, she had more than enough time to make it back before Lisa’s nap would finish. 

It was decided then. She picked up her coat and made her way out of the door. She bid her knights a good afternoon as she passed them, and most of them warned her of the storm that seemed to be fast approaching from the south. Jean thanked them all for their concerns and responded in kind by reminding them to bring umbrellas or a thicker set of clothing for the next morning. 

The blacksmith was as forthright as ever. Wagner put down his mallet the moment she had entered his peripheral vision, and he wiped the sweat off of his brow before waving to her and disappearing to get the item she requested. 

The ring was beautifully crafted. Wagner passed the box to her with a gruff noise of approval when she gasped in pleasant surprise, crossing his arms over his chest. Jean touched the smooth surface of the ring with her thumb, marveling at the reflection and the precise engraving along the inside.

She nestled the ring back into its velvet box, snapping it close and tucking it gently into an inner pocket like it was a sharp knife. It had to be handled with care. 

“How much mora do I owe you?” she asked pleasantly. “I understand my deposit was more than enough to cover the cost, but your craftsmanship, it shouldn’t be undervalued.”

Wagner stopped her with a hand. “Taking more mora from you would be a crime. It would be a slap across the face, if you ask me,” he said bluntly. He closed his mouth for a second, lips pressed together before he sighed slightly and added, “And I would have done it for free anyway. I do this job out of passion. You clearly have a lot of it. Acting Grand Master Jean.” He added her title in the end as an afterthought. 

Jean chuckled at that and shook her head. “Jean is fine,” she reminded him. “And I don’t know how else I could thank you. If you need anything from me at any time, please, don’t be afraid to ask.”

Wagner gruffed out his agreement, and Jean was on her way. The soft tinkers behind her noted that Wagner had gone back to work, and it reminded her gently of the promise to hurry back. 

Unfortunately, just as she turned to make her way home, two children rushed over to her, clamoring about a kitten that they lost while they were doing their chores. 

Jean knelt to their height and told them to take deep breaths. The older one, a boy, was the first to calm down. He begged her to help them find their kitten, Muffins, citing that their mother had entrusted them to the pet’s care for the evening while she went shopping at the market. The sister was on the verge of tears. 

Jean promised that she’d do her best. In the meantime, she told them to ask around the city for sightings of their cat, but made them promise never to separate from each other. 

It was mid-afternoon by the time she found little Muffins meowing her heart out next to the alleyway of Cat’s Tail. She was filthy from running around and grabbing the cat out of a knocked over trash can, and she was more than ready to take a nice warm bath at home.

The two children thanked her immensely, and she waved them off. However, being this close to a flower shop made her reroute her prior plans, and she made her way to Floral Whisper to buy a big bouquet for Lisa. 

It was a random, gloomy Sunday which she spent most of the day out— Lisa deserved, at the very least, a nice set of flowers to punctuate her inevitable apology when she got home. 

Flora was more than happy to sell her their most modest batch, and Jean held them close to her chest as she walked home with a slight jive to her step. 

The people of Mondstadt waved at her as she passed, some of them beckoning her over for small conversation or to ask for her opinion in things they were showing in front of their homes. It was a nice, wonderful day to end the week, even if the winds grew stronger and the dark clouds began to circle closer into her city. 

She whispered in low voices to the merchants, careful to guide her voice away from the prying winds of children who might knit her words into something new, something dangerous. Jean spoke to them about the storm passing through the city, one scouted by nervous companies of knights in the west. A large gray cloud that muddled and cluttered over each other like maggots in a decaying deer, rumbling in a deep voice that spoke a warning of destruction and diatribes. 

May Barbatos guide us, the women would whisper back to her, wringing their hands on their skirts. Husbands and sons comforted them with grim lines on their foreheads. 

And yet Jean kept her back straight. Her chin high. Her smile gracious and reassuring. 

Everything will be fine, she told them, over and over and over again. 

I promise. 

Everything will be fine. 

I promise. 

Everything will be fine. 

I promise.

Like a pendulum on a swing, she went back and forth, those same words coming forth from her mouth with each beat and timely sway. She got antsy with every lurch and spin, until she reached the end of the market and bid a reverent goodbye with a promise to check on them after the storm had passed.

Hiking the flower bouquet back up her arm with a knee, she hugged it close to her chest as if to keep the petals warm from the curious chill of the wind. This wreath of life was only meant to be seen by the eyes of the love of her life, the breath of air that animated the vibrant colors of her world. 

She hoped her small offering would become an olive branch, extending past her lips and speaking for her with words of love and prayers of togetherness forevermore that she knew she could never express herself. At least, not in a way that could be enough. No, that could never be enough. Not for her Lisa. 

No matter how often Lisa would hold her face and tell her that it was, more than it ever should be. 

Jean couldn’t stop herself from drowning in that feeling. Each step towards their house, their home, made her heart thump heavily against her chest like arrows to a steel shield. She couldn’t wait to slither into the mess of blankets her love would ultimately make, breathing in the scent of leftover grogginess and the smokey smell of ham and broccoli from their dinner the night before. 

The gentle fingertips touching the corner of her eye, flowing all the way down to the bump of her collarbone. Lisa’s sleepy, wonderful, beautiful smile; her “hello” ripe with slumber and affection. 

It was such odd weather today, considering it was supposedly the middle of spring, the touch of summer breaking through in the blossoms in Flora’s shop and the changes in fur of their livestock. She refused to dwell. There were more important things to think of, to inundate every wash of her mind with.

As such with the warmth under the blankets, despite the biting, icy cold of the winds as she marched home. She could feel it all, the warm feeling beginning from her chest to the arms on her hair. Warmth, all from the core of Lisa’s sunny body and the allure of her crinkled eyes. 

And yet. 

Jean could not find a trace of that warmth anywhere in their home. 

Lisa’s skin was cold, like the dolent winds of her city. Her eyes were glassy, a layer of wet film over them like pressed-on goggles, a sign of her sleepiness. She’d fallen asleep. She should have had to.

Even as Jean shouted louder and louder, her voice a crescendo in her chest but much too quiet in her ears, Lisa refused to wake from her sleep. Her eyes didn’t open, her lips didn’t curl in amusement in the same way they did whenever Jean would catch her snoozing too late into the day. There was nothing. 

Only the feeling of cold fingertips on Jean’s forearm as she tried desperately to wake her sleepy Lisa.

The bed was cold early in the morning. 

The city’s calamity had calmed down enough to put them all to rest for the night, but Jean merely sat on the right side of the bed. Her blanket bunched on her lap, her hands ghosted over her biceps in what she hoped was a self-assuring hug, and her eyes never blinked. 

Her eyes only stared forward. 

Her body was tired beyond the point of exhaustion, but Jean could not lay herself to sleep. 

She could still feel Lisa’s blood all over her hands. 

Cold, sticky— crimson and completely trapped in every corner of her eyes. 

Jean didn’t know why she could feel it so easily on herself when there was nothing when Lisa died. There was no actual blood, no weapon, no break-in; it was as if Lisa had fallen asleep on their floor and simply forgotten to breathe. 

It was like her death was a trick, a sleight of the hand from gods that found it much too entertaining to play with the impermanent hearts of their human subjects. 

She begged them to wake her up from her nightmare. She’d never wished for anything else in her life, not once, and she hoped that they would take enough pity on her to grant her this wish. She deserved that much, to be devoted to them for this long without expecting a single thing back, not even a whisper of good fortune.

The gods refused, or they simply pretended not to hear. 

And Jean, abandoned by everything good in her life, crumpled her feeble fingers into fists, dug them into her eyes, and sobbed like a small child for the first time in her life. 

The soft knock at her door only did very little to tear her eyes off the window of her office. Her fingers only jittered at the noise, her arms crossed heavily over her chest. In fact, Jean was surprised she noticed it at all— the pelt of the rain was so heavy against the glass that she wondered if a small drop of water would be enough to cave it in. 

She chuckled at the thought of that. What an uncanny metaphor. A small drop of rainwater breaking the glass. Just like her Lisa.

Before she could suck herself back into the melancholy of her life, Jean called, “You could come in.” Her voice did not sound like her own. It sounded so distant, so detached from herself.

The door soundlessly opened. Its only cue was the breeze that poured into the room, cold and refreshing and drowning her all at once. She bit back her tongue from asking whoever dared to disturb her to shut it at once. 

“Jean.” 

Her shoulders tensed immediately. She had gone through this dance enough times in the past half day. First by her sister, then her mother, then a sea of knights and associates who she couldn’t bother to remember the faces of. She couldn’t remember those conversations at all, all muddled by empty words of “I’m sorry for your loss,” “I know how it feels,” and “It’ll get better with time.”

Time? When had time ever been on her side, in her corner? Certainly not when she arrived only mere minutes after her beloved’s death, and certainly not now when her life felt as if it was at a standstill. Her purgatory.

Kaeya must’ve felt the growing agitation coming off in waves from her body. She could feel him hesitating a few feet away from her, wisely choosing to keep his hands off her shoulder in the same way all those men did in front of the Cathedral. 

“I do believe that people usually head to bed around this time, Grand Master,” he said, and his voice nearly drowned in the growing noise of rain against glass. He only ever called her that when he did something unforgivable. What a time to use it now, she thought mildly. “And, well, sometimes even earlier.”

His humor did nothing to penetrate the tension in the air. Though Jean appreciated the heedless shot. “I have to prepare for her funeral,” Jean murmured to the glass. She could see the reflection of his eye in the glass, backlit by the candle on the corner of her desk. “I’ll be in bed soon,” she lied through her teeth, and it passed like smoke through the lungs. 

Kaeya was only silent for a sparse moment. “I heard from your sister that you denied letting her take over the funeral preparations. And from your mother. And most of the Knights of Favonius.”

Jean bit down on the inside of her lip until she was a bite away from drawing blood. “I’m assuming you’re here to convince me to hand it to you?” She refused to turn and meet his gaze.

“No,” he said with a small, indulgent laugh. “I wouldn’t be so naive to think I could change the mind of our Mondstadt’s Dandelion Knight. I’m only here as a friend.” He sounded genuine enough to let her guard down.

Jean visibly relaxed her shoulders. “Go home, Kaeya,” she said instead. And nothing more. She was much too tired to say more. Too, too tired.

“Mm.” Kaeya clicked his tongue like a disagreeing mother. “And leave you without any company on this lonely night?” He raised the two glasses in his hand. They clinked together. “Have a drink with me, Jean.”

She appreciated the fact that he never mentioned her name.

Kaeya was quick in setting up the coffee table in the corner. He was so cat-like that she hadn’t noticed he brought in a plethora of things into her office, including a bucket of ice with wine cooling on top. Dandelion wine, the specialty of her beloved nation. 

It was also the kind of wine she would drink with Lisa on nights she was able (or, Lisa was able) to slip away from her duties. Laughter and kisses and intimacy that was spun together in a bubble of time, and it was a bubble that Jean had guiltily neglected for the past few months. It was one of her many regrets. 

Kaeya saw the look on her face. She could tell by the way he poured more wine into her glass than his own, a gesture that was so unlike the Captain who considered alcohol his first-born child. Yet, there he was, speaking not a word of it. 

Perhaps she was in worse visible shape than she originally thought. Or Kaeya was simply too good at reading the people around him.

When the silence broke through, it was Kaeya who pierced it. His voice was nearly drowned against the rumble of the sky. “It’s been less than a day. You need time to grieve.”

What do you know of grief? she almost snapped. She regretted it an instance later. He knew her grief like the back of his hand, at such a young age at that. She deflated. 

Kaeya looked as if he read her mind, and he only chuckled. With lips hovering over his glass, he said, “I know how much she meant to you. I’m sure she knows it too. Being bitter over the things you should’ve done in the past won’t help you, and it sure as hell won’t help her.”

Jean looked away from him to stare out her window. She drank mindlessly, even as her nose filled with the smell of strong wine. The smell used to bring her comfort, back to the warmth of their fireplace and the swipes of kisses that matched that smell of wine. Her eyes stung with the threat of tears, even as her heart panged with the emptiness of grief. It hurt so much, just to sit where she was.

Oh, she would give everything to bring her Lisa back. Absolutely everything. 

She cleared her throat of the dryness, then put down her glass. It was only half empty. If Kaeya thought anything of it, he didn’t say, not even with a twitch of his eyebrow. “I appreciate your company, and your unwavering loyalty to stay by my side through everything, Kaeya,” she said genuinely. He only stared at her, expression unchanged and his arm still slung over the back of his chair with a leg crossed over his thigh. “But you don’t have to worry so much about me.”

“That’s the thing, isn’t it?” he said. His tone carried a sort of casualty to it, as if they were conversing a mild topic over their wine. “Lisa worried for you enough to carry all of our burdens we had about you. None of us ever had to worry about you lying dead on the floor in this stuffy room because Lisa would worry about it for us. Every wedding vow says that the person they’re marrying is a rock, an anchor, whatever analogy a person could fathom— but Lisa was exactly that to you. Everyone in Mondstadt looks at you like a god holding up the very soil of the earth, the thread that keeps us together.” 

“Kaeya,” she murmured. Not in warning, but not in her blessing either. She simply didn’t know what to say.

Kaeya took that pause to sip on the last of his wine. He kept his eye on her. “I can’t say I don’t disagree with what they say about you, Jean. You’re remarkable; your title shows all of us up for it. I just don’t think you realize that Lisa is the reason you’ve done so much for Mondstadt in the first place.”

Jean felt her mouth dry up. “I’ve loved Mondstadt longer than I’ve ever known Lisa.”

“But do you love this place more than her?” Kaeya’s gaze on her felt like a burn mark crossed over in between her eyes. “When I ask you to go home— which direction do you go, Grand Master?” She barely registered the dull clink of his glass hitting the table as he set it down. Kaeya leaned forward to look at her, their eyes not once straying from each other. “Everyone says that you’re the reason Mondstadt hasn’t tripped over its own legs, but Lisa—” 

She stood up so abruptly that Kaeya almost fell backwards. 

“Fresh air” and “outside” were out of her mouth, in a distinctly coherent sentence, but she could barely give it another thought. She burst through the doors of the Favonius Headquarters despite the distant shouts of alarm behind her, her shoulders soaking with the warm, wet rain. Her ears drummed heavily against the sides of her skull. 

The streets of Mondstadt were hauntingly empty. Stalls that were often filled to the brim with food and merchandise were dusted with water droplets that raced down its sides and windows were reinforced with wooden planks. Jean could feel the rain soak through her clothes with every passing second while she heaved heavy breaths in and out. Her eyes darted back and forth like a caged lion, desperate to find a way out. 

She refused to return home, to where everything reminded her of a past that she couldn’t return to. 

Her way out shined like a beacon in the near distance. From the darkness, Jean could make out the light that emitted from the Cathedral. It was distant, but the light danced in front of her like it was alive; the Church was no doubt in service, opening its arms to the poor and needy and those who needed shelter from the relentless rain. She wondered if the sounds of hymns could penetrate through the thick rain if she strained her ears enough. 

Jean’s legs moved all on their own. She was dimly aware of the way that her clothes clung to her, or how her heart pounded against her chest so hard that it was almost as if it wanted to break through skin. She paid no mind to them at all. Her mind was too occupied by the waves of anger that rolled through her body, the roars of outrage she had against the gods of her world. 

How many times had she served in Barbatos’ name, in Mondstadt’s? Her body was proof of her servitude, more so than the nuns and priests that ran around her in surprise as she strode through the doors, with her permanent scars and bruises and the invisible aches that never disappeared over time. 

The same scars and bruises and aches that Lisa would kiss at night, her lips forming a subtle frown and whispers of promises to mend her the best she can with the gifts given to her. 

It was only by those healing touches did Jean never notice how much her body hurt, how much she suffered. 

Her knees buckled underneath her from the sheer agony of it. The nuns around her murmured approvingly when she closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of the pew. Perhaps they were under the impression that Jean was here out of selflessness, to pray for Mondstadt and its citizens despite her extremely unfortunate home situation. 

Jean could hear them whisper around her, praising her for being so loyal. 

She had been loyal, hadn’t she? 

When was it her turn to get something back? Just this once? 

All she needed was one chance. She just needed one chance to save Lisa and she would never, ever complain again. It was in her right scope to ask, as gods held more power over Teyvat than she could ever imagine, so surely, if Barbatos or another pitying god looked upon her strife and wished to help, it would be granted to her. 

Perhaps it was foolish to ask immortal beings to help someone like her, no matter how much she dedicated her life to them. 

But she was desperate to the bone, and she was willing to try anything to give her a semblance of hope to bring Lisa back to her, back to the world that she deserved to live in.

She knelt there with her eyes squeezed shut like a child for much too long. Her entranced, obsessed state was only dimly aware of the homebodies around her, the cries of infants with their mothers who were at the mercy of the storm and the nuns who whispered to each citizen asking them to approach them for anything they ever needed, for they only ever lived to serve others, just as Jean would have done.

At some point, her sister spoke her name quietly, pressing something warm against the side of her thigh while she continued to pray. Jean did not open her eyes to see. She hoped her sister knew she appreciated it all the same, and she hoped that Barbara also knew how important this was to her. 

Her mind repeated the same mantra of let me bring her back so steadily that it calmed her body into sleepiness, even as she shivered from her wet clothes and the headache that massaged her scalp with spikes. 

When she drifted off into sleep, with her knees still buckled and pressed against the pews and her hands still clasped tightly in front of her, Jean dreamt of nothing. 

Of nothing at all. 

Someone had carried her and put her back in her bed in the morning.

Whoever it was, they were kind enough to slip her into something dry and homey, and left something in the kitchen that smelled strong enough to gut a reaction from her hunger-panged stomach. Her bedroom looked as it always had, even if she was too afraid to look to her side to verify. She could see the portrait she commissioned for Lisa and her anniversary last year by her bedside, though she refused to look at it through nothing more than her peripheral vision.

Jean sat up on her bed, taking shallow breaths in and out. The sky outside of her window was gray, likely denoting the recent end of the storm from the night before. Her stomach hurt when she inhaled again.

How long had it been since she had something other than wine and water? Probably much too long.

Whoever had left the food in her kitchen was a kind one, even if she was too stubborn to admit it. The pain of grief still pressed against her back as if it was an anchor tied to her, but she supposed that it was a weight that needed to get used to from now on, especially now that today was booked to the brim with funeral preparations. At least for now, she had to square that weight onto her shoulders and run with it. No matter how much her shoulders ached. 

Jean stretched her arms high in the sky and counted to ten before letting her feet touch the cold floor. There was too much work to be done today to count to fifteen. 

The scent of frying bacon and eggs hit her nose, wafting in the air and enticing her out of their room and into the kitchen. 

Lisa was right there, humming and reading a small book in between her fingers in one hand and poking eggs around a pan in the other. Lisa was right there. Alive and well. 

She didn’t know how long she stood there like a statue, staring and staring and staring into nothing but the sight in front of her. Jean could barely feel her fingertips and the way her heart stood motionless in the chasm of her chest when Lisa finally turned around, bed hair and sleepy smile and all. There was no sign of death on her beloved’s face, as even her eyes were teeming with the kind of life that Jean thought she was never going to see again. Her eyes were bright, despite the discernible sleepiness in them, and they peered into her with a mix of love and joy and just, well, Lisa.

“Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” Lisa said, bemused. She put down her novel on the counter next to their stove, and squinted at Jean as if she was in the dark. “Are you going to stand there and let me do all the cooking?”

The way Jean’s eyes immediately filled with the wells of tears startled Lisa out of every inch of sleepiness she had left. Jean felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her chest was so tight that she wouldn’t even be half surprised if Lisa had tightened a rope on her. 

“Jean?” Lisa said. Her voice was more than enough to be above a whisper, and yet the tenderness of her voice, the whole familiarity of it, made Jean’s entire body cease under the weight of her guilt. She thought she would never hear her say her name like that again; like an intimate prayer, heard only for her. Soft and delicate, the way prayers should be. Not based in resentment, like hers had been a day before. 

Jean fell to her knees in an instant. 

Her hand fell around the base of her throat, her ragged breathing growing shallower the more she looked at Lisa. Was this a dream? Was this the kind of dream that her gods pitied enough to give her, or was it one that her gods despised her enough to take away if she looked away long enough? Her entire body shook with the desperation to breathe.

Lisa fell down next to her without a moment to spare. Their breakfast abandoned, Lisa pressed her hands into Jean’s chest, prodding for an explanation for Jean’s sudden behavior. “Jean?” she said again, and this time her voice was laced with the utmost concern, like it always did whenever she worked too late or pushed herself too hard. This time, she even sounded panicked. “Jean, what’s wrong?”

Jean didn’t know how to speak, or even a sound. How could she? What was she supposed to say at that moment?

“Jean,” Lisa said again, and she begged. 

How could she ever deny the love of her life anything in her life?

She found her voice right then. “You died,” Jean answered simply. Her voice was too quiet for the authority she possessed. “I saw you die, Lisa, I—”

“Deep breaths, darling, you’re choking on your own air,” Lisa reprimanded, and even her small attempt at humor was coated in concern. She rubbed Jean’s back, her other hand making soothing circles on the back of Jean’s hand and knuckles. 

Jean did as instructed. She breathed, in and out, and her breaths slowly became less labored. Her chest still hurt, however, ceasing from the shock of being on the floor with someone who was meant to have a funeral in less than a week. Her eyes burned from the strain of keeping them open, too afraid to look away or blink in case that all of this was temporary. A hallucination, a dream— whatever cruelty the universe had for her.

“You saw me die?” Lisa asked her gently. There was no alarm in her tone, only a question. As if Jean had told her that she had a bad dream. 

Jean shook her head in utter disbelief. “I saw you die,” she insisted. She knew that Lisa didn’t believe her, but she should. She had to. “You— I came back and you were— Lisa, you were—”

“When did this happen?” Lisa asked again, and Jean felt her frustration grow. Lisa didn’t believe her. She had to believe her. 

Jean shrugged her hands away from her. “Lisa, you have to believe me,” Jean begged, and her breaths were beginning to come in and out again. “I saw you die. No— no one knows how you did, but you died, here, in our house, and you. You could ask anyone in town if you don’t believe me. You’re—”

“Love,” Lisa said gently, slowly moving her hand back towards Jean’s hand as if she was a startled animal. Jean let her take it. “You’re stressed out and overworked. You poor thing. You must’ve had a nightmare. I could brew you something for your headache— they’re not quite ready, but for you I could spare my chances.”

As Lisa prepared to stand, Jean was much quicker than she was. Her hand gripped Lisa’s wrist to keep her in place with a grip so strong that Lisa wavered. 

“Please,” Jean begged, and the expression on Lisa’s face morphed into one of deep worry. “I— I don’t know what I did to deserve you and to be here, but you can’t leave me again, Lisa. Please.”

Lisa looked at her for a moment. Within that spare second, Jean worried if she had said too much to bear, or if Lisa thought she had gone too far to help. But then Lisa bent back down and kissed her gently on the forehead, and then said, “Get up, sweetie. You’ll get your knees all dirty sitting down there.”

Breakfast was burnt due to Jean’s fiasco. Lisa tutted while she threw away their burnt eggs, instead opting for a salad she left in the fridge from the night before. She offered to make Jean something else, but Jean waved her off and cited that she wasn’t hungry. She was reprimanded for saying so, but either Lisa pitied her too much to force her to eat again or she too was mulling over Jean’s nightmare.

“I assume you have something to do today?” Lisa asked her. She smiled gently when she looked up from her salad to see Jean already watching her. 

Well— she did have things to do today. Work, meetings, and catching up with the preparations for Lisa’s funeral were among the things that she had to do today. But some of those problems seemed to have taken care of itself, despite the ambiguity of its phenomenon, and even she could admit that work was only secondary to being with someone who she thought had already passed through the threshold of the living world.

So, Jean said, “Of course not. Did you want to do something with me today?”

Lisa’s smile was extremely bright as she said so, and she knew that she had made the right choice. “Well!” Lisa said, clasping her hands together and sounding more cheery than she had been all morning, nightmare and all forgotten, even by Jean. How could she think of yesterday’s nightmare, when Lisa had proven to be all and well in front of her? “Aren’t you full of surprises today, Jean? We can take a trip through the market now if you still won’t take me on the offer for some of my delicious sandwiches.”

Jean nodded her head vigorously. In all honesty, she would’ve been just as excited if Lisa had suggested they visit a pigsty. Then, Lisa’s words settled in her stomach, and she tilted her head curiously. “Wouldn’t you like to go back to sleep?”

Lisa looked at her in part amusement and part surprise. “Well, I was planning to,” she admitted, and then tapped her chin a few times. “But then a certain someone collapsed in our kitchen, told me I died, and then watched me eat my salad.” 

Smiling sheepishly, Jean said, “I’m sorry.” But she wasn’t really. She was sure that Lisa would have reacted the exact same way for her, if not more.

As they got ready for their outing, Jean refused to leave her side. Jean was at her beck and call, and Lisa had lovingly likened her to a puppy by the time they were out the door. “Have you ever seen those kinds of dogs stick by someone’s side while they’re walking around their house? It’s quite cute. Like you,” Lisa cooed.

Jean rolled her eyes at that, but the smile on her face was evident for how grateful she was that Lisa’s teasing still existed in her life. 

What a horrible nightmare she had last night. She hoped it was the last of it. It felt much, much too long to be a dream that anyone deserved. 

The vendors in Mondstadt were more than happy to accommodate the couple. They went from stall to stall, looking at new arrivals and bargained for new jewelry and items that Lisa needed for her brewing. Jean lavishly paid for them all despite Lisa’s protests, and by the time they reached the end of what Mondstadt had to offer, they had bought at least one thing from every merchant. Most items that Jean carried was due to the fact that Lisa had stared at the item for a second too long, and Jean had paid for it without another blink of an eye. Their shopping spree wasn’t taken into question by the merchants they shopped with, in fact most took her mora with a big grin and healthy wishes for the lovely couple. Lisa was less enthused, but she let Jean take the lead after Jean begged her enough to give her this one thing to her. 

Flora waved at them as they passed, giggling at Jean’s packmule appearance with Lisa, and even Wagner looked at her curiously and for far longer than the aloof man did with his other patrons.

Kaeya, who had just left Angel’s Share, walked past her with an irked look on his face and whispered, “Getting cold feet, Jean?” and left before she could ask.  

Lisa, finally feeling guilty for all the effusive things Jean bought for her, insisted they head back home for the day to drop their things off and rest before they grab some dinner. “And you better order more than you usually do,” she warned playfully. She pinched the side of Jean’s hip. “Don’t think I forgot that you didn’t have breakfast or lunch today.”

“I will,” Jean promised, and she meant it. For the first time in over seemingly twenty-four hours, she felt hungry. There were no empty pangs in her stomach from the pain of losing her only love, and there were no more distractions from keeping her from eating a good, full meal at a restaurant while speaking about their days. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else? I’m sure we have time to pick one more thing up.”

“What person would let their beloved Grand Master and girlfriend parade around the city like a coat hanger full of accessory items?” Lisa cried indignantly. “Look at you, my poor Jeanie. Your arms must be so sore.” To accentuate her point, she squeezed Jean’s bicep.

Jean knew her shenanigans enough to know what she was doing. She flexed the arm Lisa was holding, and Lisa hummed in gratitude. 

“But, now that you say it,” Lisa said, and she looked up at the sky to think, “getting all of these new ingredients for my potions reminds me that I should pick up something from the library. I have all of the things I need for a sleeping potion for you to sleep better tonight at home.”

“Let me come with you,” Jean said instantly, but Lisa laughed. 

“Drop everything off at home and rest up,” Lisa said gently. She put a palm on the other side of Jean’s face to kiss the side of her cheek closest to her. “I’ll only be a minute. I could even sneak in that new novel you were eyeing last week.”

Jean perked up at that. “The sequel to the Princess and the Lion?”

“That’s the one, darling,” Lisa said happily. “Now, go. I’ll see you back at home.”

Jean frowned, slowing the pace of their walk. “But are you sure you can go alone? I am more than happy to escort you, the library’s only—”

“Yes, yes,” Lisa said with a small sigh. “It’s only a few blocks away. Which is exactly why you should spend that time walking straight back home. Maybe you could fix up the table while I’m gone.”

Jean still didn’t like being separated from her. It must’ve shown on her face because Lisa’s face softened considerably. “I’ll be back before you could miss me too much, you darling puppy,” Lisa teased, and then kissed her on the corner of the mouth. “Now go and change out of your drab black. It looks like you’re going to a funeral.” She pinched the side of Jean’s long sleeve and dropped it. “I love you always, Jeanie.”

Jean wrinkled her nose at the name, but the flutter in her heart and the instant smile on her face was no mistake. “I love you too,” she murmured. 

“Good.” Now Lisa kissed the full of her lips as a reward. “It’s Sunday. You should know how important our Sunday dates are— I don’t care how nasty this storm looks, we are celebrating our day together, Jean.”

“I know, I know,” Jean chuckled, as if she was being reprimanded like a child. Her lips buzzed with the ghost of Lisa’s kiss. She loved them just as much as she loved Lisa. 

With one last lazy wave of her hand, Lisa walked away and down the road. Jean stood and watched her, entranced by the luck given to her. How lucky was she that she was going to marry this woman someday? That their union was blessed by the gods to the point they forced her to see the love and luck that she had, despite the fact that she was grateful for it everyday of her life.

She was going to marry this woman. She had all the preparations set for it, in fact. 

Preparations that were meant for an unbusy Sunday. A Sunday exactly like this.

That was when her blood ran cold, stopping even the pump of her heart in her chest. Her extremities had gone so numb that she was so sure they were going to be unresponsive, but her body was on the move before her mind could catch up to the goal she desperately needed to seek. 

The boxes and bags that Lisa had entrusted to her were dropped and scattered among the floor of her city, and citizens gasped and stepped backwards as she drove through them with her heart beating incessantly at her ribcage. Everything else long forgotten, Jean made a line straight for the library, forcing her legs to move faster and faster and faster, as much as they could go.

Lisa’s name tore out of her throat in painful bursts. People turned to look at her in meddling concern, though Jean could barely pay them any heed. Even as they parted and some called for her in worry, Jean did not respond. She had no time to.

Once the library was in sight, Jean didn’t stop. Her voice was scratched painfully from the volume she screamed, and her legs screamed even louder in protest of the strain she put them in. Sweat made her clothes cling to her, almost as heavily as her heart continued to thrum rapidly to meet the skin of her chest.

The library was too loud. 

There was a clamor of people all around the perimeter, chatter that ranged from abhorrent exclamation to curious, unknowing whispers of rumors. There were too many knights around for it to be an isolated case of a drunken fight or a paltry thief, and that was exactly what she was afraid of. 

She didn’t have to walk up to one of them to ask. Her name was spoken behind her, somber and unhappy, and his face even more so. She could barely remember his name in her dread, but the way he looked at her let her know that he knew her enough to know exactly how much it would affect her.

All he had to do was say “I’m sorry,” and Jean fell to her knees. This time, there was no hand at her back or the soft cooing of her name. 

All she felt was cold air, stale air, and the way her ears could barely listen to the words that spoke from the knight’s lips. “Accident,” “backroom,” and “overloaded” was all she could process, and it was already too much. 

She steeled herself as best as she could and excused herself without another word. The knight let her, and his look of pity burned itself into her eyelids while she trekked all the way back to the Cathedral with a new purpose. 

She was here much earlier than she had been before. There were no cries of people that suffered from the ultimatum of the storm, but rather, the bustle of nuns and priests that were hurriedly preparing for the storm to come. There were calls for more blankets and planks to cover the windows, but Jean paid no more attention to them than a mosquito to her ear. Sister Victoria greeted her, but her next words died in her throat when Jean brushed past her. She had never done that before, and she was dimly aware that she would have been appalled with herself, had it been any other time than the present. But for now, it was an issue for her to think of when the blood wasn’t rushing in her ears and the pain in her chest had increased tenfold from the day before. 

Or, she thought it was the day before. 

Had it been a nightmare, and today was the premonition and only chance she had?

She hoped not. 

She prayed again, and her heart shattered some more.

When she woke in her bed, she couldn’t rip the covers off of herself fast enough. The moment she was aware of the fabric on her skin and the wind fierce in her ears, Jean forced herself to move as fast as she could. 

She stumbled into the kitchen like a drunkard, her shoulder crashing painfully against the corner. She paid it no mind. The pain that blossomed in her clavicle and side was nothing compared to the agonizing pain of having her heart torn in front of her with the absence of the woman she loved the most. 

And Lisa, unfortunately, was still absent.

There was no sign of her in the kitchen. The stove wasn’t lit and the familiar scent of her lover was nowhere to be found. It was like Lisa had completely disappeared from the world. 

The sob that rippled from her throat made her eyes prick with tears. She covered her mouth to stop it, but it was no use. She sucked in a breath and sobbed pathetically, just as she did alone in their bed. 

Her knees nearly buckled under her weight, but somehow she kept upright. Denial was a strong presence, one perhaps even stronger than the gods that walked her world, so Jean clung onto it like a servant to a temple. 

She put on her clothes numbly. Her black shirt waited for her in her closet, and she stared at it for a few minutes in silence. 

In the end, she tossed it aside. There must be a saying out in the world about staying in a hell loop by making the same choices. And, perhaps Kaeya and Lisa were right— it looked as if she were to be an attendant of a funeral. There was too much taboo surrounding it, and she did all she could to change it.

Perhaps it was a silly thing to believe in, such with a child and a fairytale they clung onto too hard for bedtime. But perhaps it was no different from her clutching onto her novels that entailed romance and happy endings. It made her none the wiser to pursue it regardless.

“Good morning, Acting Grand Master,” Porthos greeted. He saluted her, along with Athos who guarded the entrance beside him, and both of them looked equally surprised to see her so early in the day. Jean stopped in front of them. Coughing slightly, Porthos asked, “Is there something we can do for you?”

Jean steeled herself for all possible answers. “Where… is Lisa?”

Porthos and Athos glanced at each other, perhaps trying to discern her ambiguous tone and frigid look. Porthos was the one to answer again. “Your partner, ma’am? The librarian?”

“Who else would it be?” Athos whispered through his teeth and Porthos looked at him helplessly.

“Yes,” Jean replied, and said nothing more.

Athos shifted on his feet. “Oh, well, she told us that she was leaving for Dragonspine to meet with the alchemist for an… ingredient, I think. She said that she’d be back before you’d be awake. I’m sorry we couldn’t be more helpful, Grand Master.”

“No, that’s…” Jean felt her mouth dry. She shook her head in disbelief. “She’d never do that. And to Dragonspine? No. Lisa would never think to..”

“We thought the same, Acting Grand Master,” Porthos supplied. He saluted her again under the presumption that their conversation was only small talk. “But then she said that she was worried you weren’t sleeping all too well recently and Albedo had contacted her about something to help with it.”

“And,” Athos piped in, clearing his throat, “Albedo was frantic about needing her help with another project. I’ve never seen the alchemist act so—”

“Thank you,” she said numbly. “Please, if you see Kaeya— ask him to resume my duties for me for the time being.”

She didn’t look at their faces long enough to see how they took her words. She turned around and dashed through the grass. Running wasn’t in her favor yet, considering that her legs felt awfully sore for a supposedly relaxing day. Even so, she rushed as much as she could, not once turning behind her even as Amber yelled after her and the only weapon by her side was the knife in her boot.

Her blood was cold even before she breached the sight of the snowy mountains. Knights who were on patrol outside the walls of Mondstadt caught wind of her and the steely look she gave the road ahead, and they knew instantly of her plans. They begged her to turn back, telling her that it was too dangerous to go, that the storm that was supposed to pass through Mondstadt had hit Dragonspine first in the early morning with a snowstorm so deep and strong that they had already lost horses only miles in. What’s more, Jean hadn’t brought anything but the coat off her back and the stomach that twisted painfully in her abdomen.

Despite it, she could barely pay any mind to the biting pain of her fingertips and the frost that coated her eyelashes. Her lips tingled with the ghost of a kiss. Not by Lisa, but by the wind that suggested things in her ear and beckoned her in directions that strayed her away from the safest paths. Frostbite was imminent; she hardly cared.

Her body was sluggish and her hands screamed in pain by the time she scaled the side of the mountain. Jean couldn’t tell if her short, dizzying breaths were due to the air on the mountain or the panic that rose in her chest. But she supposed it hardly mattered, not when Albedo’s campsite was as empty as the dark blue that opened at her feet, a void that called her to give in.

Hurriedly, she dashed around the laboratory, looking for any sign of life. Sucrose and Albedo had never left their place of pride, no matter how strong the winds blew against them. They must be close somewhere, somewhere with Lisa. 

Jean ran out towards the winds. Her lungs lit on fire in protest. 

Through the blizzard, she could see the pile of snow only a few dozen feet away from the campsite. It hadn’t been there the last time she was here, and she doubted that Albedo would ever situate himself beside so much nothingness. An avalanche.

Once she was near it, Jean could hear Sucrose calling after her, sounding terrified and desperate out of her wits. The winds blew in her direction, carrying Sucrose’s plea to help her with an injured Albedo. 

She would have helped. She knew she would have. 

But instead she dropped to her knees, the packed snow squelching under her weight, and she dug for as long as she could with her fingernails. She continued to dig, her eyes desperately searching for a sign of life, until it was finally granted to her. 

Lisa’s eyes were glassy, looking as they did when she was sleepy and begging Jean to climb back into bed. But her lips did not form her name, and her hands were too cold to belong to a warm, tired body on a weekend morning. 

Jean brushed the pad of her thumb over Lisa’s blue lips. She silently begged her to say something, even if it was a plea to rest her eyes for five more minutes. But Lisa’s eyes continued to stare blankly at her, and Jean’s tears froze on the surface of her arctic skin. 

Whimpering softly, Jean cradled Lisa’s body to her face. Her arms encased her beloved and she willed her body to give as much warmth as she could. Lisa was too cold— hadn’t she warned her to leave the house with an extra jacket? Or to wait for her? Jean always brought an extra for these kinds of things.

She cried so loud and desperately that the wind blew stronger in her lament. 

She wondered what she ever did to the gods to deserve this hell, and if this was the eternity given to her for the things she’d done. She prayed, hopelessly, that Lisa wouldn’t be given the same punishment as her. 

She prayed again, and her heart shattered against the ice of the mountain.

When she woke again, with Lisa sleeping soundlessly beside her and a faint smile on her beautiful lips, Jean knew of two things. 

She woke everyday on the same day, but it was also not the same day. The calendar would be marked down as Sunday, and all the patrons in the city would agree, but the events of the day were remarkably different.

Most would stay the same, with Kaeya being annoyed with her no-show at the bar and the way the little boy’s dog would bark the same pitch, but some events of the day were vastly different. In fact, it was all centered around Lisa— it seemed as if Lisa had a mind of her own from the day to day, either waking up sleepy or energetic, and deciding different things for them to do. It would cause a domino effect, changing the way the merchants would interact with them or when Flora’s house plant would knock over, if at all. But it always depended on what Lisa wanted to do. All that mattered was that it was Sunday, and Lisa was alive.

Secondly, Lisa died.

No matter what she did, Lisa would die sometime in the day and she would stay dead until Jean burst into the Cathedral and prayed for another chance.

She hoped that whatever god was granting her these chances, they weren’t getting impatient. Because in all honesty, despite the constant burning of her heart and the heaviness of her shoulders, Jean was not a woman who was readily available to quit. Especially not about Lisa. 

Especially not about Lisa.

She had a theory, however. Lisa always died before the sun set; therefore, it wouldn’t be out of her mind to think that keeping her alive until the end of the day would force fate’s hand and keep that away. An object in motion would stay in motion, as they say; so keeping Lisa alive for that long would keep her alive.

When Lisa finally fluttered her eyelashes and yawned, long and slow, she looked surprised to find Jean already looking at her. 

“You scared me half to death, darling,” Lisa accused. She put a hand over her heart to feign it. “How long have you been staring at me? Like what you see?”

Jean swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “I promised you a day out today,” she said finally.

Lisa looked ecstatic. Jean indulged in the light feeling of her chest, and the weight that was taken off her shoulders momentarily, at the sight of Lisa’s alluring happiness. 

Lisa sat up in an instant. She ruffled her own bed hair, watching Jean as she mirrored her beloved and sat up next to her. “Well, Grand Master of Mondstadt,” Lisa teased, and flicked the tip of her nose. “What grand plans did you have for us to do on this fine day?”

“Acting Grand Master,” Jean corrected. She didn’t know why she felt the need to say so.

Lisa looked at her oddly for saying it. “Acting or not, you do a terrific job of what you do,” she said, and she sounded almost as if she was admonishing her. “Don’t give yourself the short end because of whatever inferiority you feel from missing one kitty stuck up the tree.”

Jean took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she said dismissively, and slid out of their covers. Lisa continued to watch her. “As for today, I was hoping I could plan it this time?”

“Well, I do remember asking about what you wanted to do just a minute ago, my dearest,” Lisa mused. She pulled her knee up to her chest and hugged it. Propping her chin on her knee, she asked, “I just hope it’s nothing too… extravagant?”

Jean chuckled. She pulled off her night shirt and opened their closet, and she could hear Lisa humming behind her when she turned. “I’ll pick you up when you get tired from walking around. I won’t do anything drastic, but I was kinda hoping you’d let me surprise you?”

“Ooh, a surprise.” Lisa sounded genuinely interested in it. “I didn’t think you had it in you, cutie.”

Jean chuckled. “No?” She turned to look at Lisa, her white button-up still half opened. She fiddled with the buttons while she spoke to Lisa, who looked at her like she was going to be her last meal alive. “I could do surprises.”

“I never said you couldn’t,” Lisa quipped. “I was just sitting here thinking that you just… didn’t like them.” Her amused tone made Jean roll her eyes. 

One squeak of surprise later, Jean had her girlfriend pinned to their mattress. 

Jean leaned in, hovering over her expectantly, and Lisa laughed while she pecked her lips. Satisfied, Jean let go of her wrists and stood back up. She smoothed down her shirt as she said, “Still think I can’t do surprises?”

“You’re quite the little revelation, aren’t you?” Lisa chuckled, and she ran her fingernail over Jean’s jaw before kissing her cheek. “Do those plans of yours include breakfast or are you making your poor librarian do it?”

“Food’s on the list, no worries,” Jean told her, and Lisa nodded approvingly at it. 

Before leaving, Lisa unclasped her top button, and Jean sighed affectionately. “I’m still closing it!” Jean called after her, and she pressed the button back against her chest to prove it, despite the fact that Lisa already had her back turned to her. 

“It was worth a shot,” Lisa said over her shoulder, and Jean shook her head. 

They fooled around in the kitchen for who knew how long. Jean had to get dressed again twice, and Lisa showed very little guilt. The happiness that showed on Lisa’s face was infectious, and Jean found herself smiling the entire time she was beside her. 

Jean held her hand the entire way. Though Lisa made no comment of it, she looked at her suspiciously when Jean held it just that much tighter when crossing roads or getting through a crowd. Ultimately, nothing was said, other than the upcoming storm and what they should eat for dinner. 

They stopped by a market before coming up to Jean’s surprise. Lisa marveled at the ornate knives that were out on display, imported directly from Sumeru, and reached out to touch one. Jean tugged her away gently. She did so for the next few stalls they encountered, even going as far as to inspect the feathered pillow that Lisa wanted to feel. 

Lisa looked at her, dismayed, but said nothing.

A fruit stand caught her attention next. Lisa leaned down to smell the flowers that sat beside the apples, and Jean intervened once again. 

“What’s got you all strung up, darling?” Lisa asked her, sounding frustrated yet worried.

“I’m sorry,” Jean apologized gently. “I just have a… bad feeling. About today.”

That softened Lisa’s features quite swiftly. She touched Jean’s limp hand at her side gently, and then brought it up to her lips and kissed her fingertip. “Should we make our way down to your surprise then, love?” Lisa suggested.

Jean took a deep breath. She closed her eyes to steel herself, and then nodded mutely. 

She could still see Lisa’s glassy stare from the mountain. She thought she saw a flash of it when Lisa opened her eyes that morning, and it was all that she could bear. 

Her surprise ended up being the library. 

Lisa, to her credit, still acted like Jean had brought her to the fanciest spot in all of Teyvat. She peered around every corner of the library, probably wondering if Jean had hidden a surprise. In all honesty, in another life, Jean probably would have— perhaps a ring situated in Lisa’s favorite novel. 

“Did you take me here so I could work?” Lisa teased. She turned to look at Jean accusingly, but there was no bite to those words of hers. 

Jean shook her head. “You work so hard that I don’t think you have time to read the books that you want to,” Jean lied through her teeth. It was true, in a sense, she knew how much Lisa longed to read books during her own time when she wasn’t helping so many scholars find books detailing the anatomy of slimes. But, Jean brought her here because it was the quietest place in Mondstadt. A tip toe could echo through the halls. This was the safest place they could be, and it was the few places she could think of where she could expect danger before it came. 

She gazed at the door to the side. It was Lisa’s own hidey-hole, the same place she was set off the second time she died in her nightmares. Jean frowned.

Lisa caught her looking at it. She put back the novel she was looking at on the shelves and came up to Jean. “You know I don’t keep anything dangerous in there anymore, right?” Lisa said to her. 

Surprised, Jean looked over at her. “Oh, I wasn’t—” she stammered, raking her mind for an excuse. When it was evident that she couldn’t think of any, Lisa laughed. 

“I know you,” Lisa said, and the love in her voice was obvious. “I know you don’t want to tell me about whatever nightmare you had, or what thing is bothering you at work, but I could see it on your face when you look at me.”

Jean was silent with that. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, and Lisa’s lips tugged slightly downwards at her vulnerable tone. “I don’t mean to keep secrets from you.”

“I know.” Lisa pressed a kiss to her lips, gentle as an angel’s breath. “Whatever it is, it’s making you neurotic and anxious about me all day. So, let’s slow down and enjoy our day together. How does that sound to you?”

“Perfect,” Jean admitted, and she had to bite down on her lower lip to keep from letting out a sob when Lisa kissed her again. The weight was starting to come down on her shoulders again. Heavier, this time. “You’re perfect,” she said again, much quieter and gentler, and Lisa kissed her again. 

They continued to kiss in that nook of the library for who knew how long, Jean’s hands firm on her hips and Lisa’s fingers on her face. The weight that was heavy on Jean didn’t feel quite as strong anymore, but it was still there. Lisa was sharing her burden, it seemed, and she hoped that it was a strain that wouldn’t feel so sore for too long.

When they parted, with Lisa’s languid smile so close to her own, Lisa requested that they walk to the other end of the library to find a pile of the new releases that she had yet to unpack for the week. She promised that there was a novel there that Jean would like, and Jean had no doubt that she would.  

Everything Lisa had ever given to her was sacred in its own right, and she was sure that this was no different. 

They spent the next few hours pouring over the books that they desperately needed to catch up on. Each story was more hopeful than the last, and its endings were so infectious that Jean was beginning to think that their endings were hers as well. That, paired with the gentle laughter of Lisa right in front of her, proved to be an effective medicine against the nightmares that plagued her for so long.

The sun was setting by the time they finished their fourth novel of the day and the fourth cup of tea that Lisa had brewed for them while they sat in their own corner of the library. It was then that Lisa suggested they had home for the night, for she was already overdue for some rest. 

Plus, she reasoned, the storm was getting closer and they shouldn’t be trapped at the library when they had a warm home waiting for them. Jean agreed, and her heart hadn’t felt so full in quite a while. 

They walked down the steps of the library together, Lisa chattering on and on about some people who had littered in the main hall just a few days ago. Jean’s resolve crumbled right then.

“We should get married,” Jean said. As if she had asked to grab some spring rolls before heading home.

Lisa faltered. She was already on the bottom step, looking up at Jean in a mix of awe and disbelief. It was a look that Jean had craved for, for much, much too long.

“What did you say?” Lisa asked, and it was almost a hushed question.

“Marry me,” Jean said again, confident in every syllable. She took a few more steps down to meet Lisa on a leveled step. She took both of Lisa’s limp hands and squeezed them, her eyes never leaving Lisa’s. “I’ve loved you far too long to spend another day without asking.” She dropped to one knee in an instant, and she was dimly aware of the few stray souls who stopped in their tracks to watch them. But it didn’t matter— not when the most beautiful of them all was looking down at her, mouth slightly agape, and her eyes shiny with lively tears. 

“Lisa Minci, will you marry me?” she asked again, louder, and the repeated “yes” that was uttered from Lisa’s lips were muted compared to the roar of her ears from the pressure. She played it off to be the pressure of happiness, even as Lisa kissed her full on the mouth and she felt nothing but dread in her stomach. 

She twirled her Lisa around, a smile on her face even as her stomach churned with the promise of terror. Burying her face into Lisa’s neck, she whispered, “Come home with me and we can decide on the colors for our tables.”

Lisa pulled back to put her hands on each side of her face. Her eyes were still misty with tears. “And the flowers?” she asked, and her voice shook with emotion.

“Any and all kinds of flowers you wish for,” Jean told her, and her heart burned like it was stuck in a forest fire. “And then we can go to Liyue for our honeymoon, to see Jueyun Karst. Like you always wanted.”

Lisa laughed waterily at that. “When are we getting to the part where we get the things you want?”

“And I want to marry you. And I will get to marry you,” Jean said simply. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

They kissed once more, with lips that smiled and buzzed with bliss and the promise of a jointed tomorrow. Lisa held her face so fiercely that it rivaled the arms that she was wrapped in. 

Everything was well, until they pulled away and the happiness in Lisa’s eyes had turned glassy. Her mouth opened to speak but nothing came out, and the weight in Jean’s arms turned limp and heavy. 

In a blink, Lisa was set down on the ground, her sundress soaked in red around her abdomen. Jean pressed down on it numbly, her knuckles running down with the scarlet color.

A man a few feet away from there looked down at Lisa in horror, a bloodied knife in a shaky, sinewy hand. He turned and ran, and Jean barked orders at the men closest to him to get him. Her world swayed and swirled underneath her, and Jean looked back down at her fiancée with tears that no longer sprang from joy. The weight on her shoulders was crushing her again, heavier this time. The sides of her head pulsed with a headache ten times as strong as she had ever felt in her life.

“Lisa,” she croaked, and her voice was too thick for her to swallow. She pushed away a strand of Lisa’s hair away from her face, and Lisa gripped onto her wrist weakly. Her eyes were becoming glassier by the second. Unlike the first few times she had died, just like this, a tear slipped down the side of her face. And oddly, she smiled. Warmly even, right at Jean. “Lisa.”

“Ask for cecilias,” Lisa said quietly. 

“What?” Jean’s mouth formed the word, but it was hard to believe that it was spoken at all. 

“For our wedding,” Lisa told her firmly, and she sounded almost upset that Jean had forgotten. “Cecilias on every table. And you can choose the color. For the… the cloth.” Every word she spoke was softer than the last. 

“I love you,” Jean said tenderly, because there was nothing else to say.

Lisa didn’t respond. 

Jean held her body close to her, her eyes screwed shut like she did when she was a little kid, hiding under the blankets and waiting for the nightmare to pass. She could hear and feel the people around her gathering close, gasps of shock and murmurs spreading throughout. Knights tried their best to escort them away, but the people had already seen enough. 

The crowd that had once gasped and clapped for them had become a crowd of the bereaved not even a moment too soon.

The irony wasn’t lost on her.

It took a few hours for the rest of the knights to find the man. It was Diluc who did, but he took no credit for it. He left the moment he had the man kneeling in front of Jean, leaving her alone with the thief who stole her beloved wife away from her. 

“What drove you?” Jean asked him. It was almost a kind question. And yet her voice was hardened, enough for the man to bow his head low to her and grovel. 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “I— I was drunk, and I got into a fight with my wife, and I thought she— I thought she was—”

Jean had heard enough. She had two knights escort him out and throw him into the dungeons to be released the next day, allowing herself to watch the other knights run around the courtyard to prepare for the storm that was nearing ahead. She shut her eyes, feeling the burn of sorrow run down her chest and into her stomach like a repugnant wine.

The man had murdered her future wife in an attempt to murder his. 

What world did she live in for these things to happen? Was this the hell that she deserved?

And, she felt hopeless. Bitter. Lisa had been murdered in cold blood under a mistaken identity. No one was out to kill her. There was no spinning conspiracy, no underlying attempt at her life. Jean just couldn’t protect her. She was the jester of this story, and there was nobody else to blame but herself.

She prayed again, and her heart was nothing but stone.

When she woke, Lisa smiled and invited her for tea.

“Can I ask you a question?” Jean asked gently.

“Yes, I can wear the blue lace nightgown you like tonight, you don’t have to be so shy when you ask, cutie,” Lisa exclaimed, and Jean laughed.

She took a sip of her tea before answering. “I was going to ask what you would do if you knew I was going to die.”

Lisa paused mid-sip. She scrunched her brow, and then put down her drink. “Well, that’s quite a morbid question for morning tea, Jean.”

“Sorry.” Jean flashed her a smile in apology. “It’s just… I read this interesting novel yesterday with the same concept, and I guess it’s been stuck in my mind.”

Lisa thrummed her fingers on the table, humming. She looked deep in thought with Jean’s suggestion.

“Do I know why you’re dying?” Lisa questioned. 

Jean pursed her lips. “A prophecy, maybe.”

“A little birdie, then.” Lisa seemed amused at that. “Can you lend me that book after you’re done with it? It sounds interesting.”

“Of course,” Jean replied, and even a small white lie like that was enough for her fingers to grow cold. 

“I’d love you until the very end.”

Jean looked up at her sharply. “You won’t even try to save me?”

“Oh, I’d try alright.” Lisa’s face grew grim, even as she swirled a sugarcube into her drink. “But, sometimes it isn’t enough. And if it’s a prophecy like you say, then it most likely won’t be. As long as you knew that I loved you, I wouldn’t have any regrets for it.”

Shaking her head, Jean answered, “You can’t love me that much in such a short amount of time.”

“I never said I could. How could I fit all of my love in a day, Jean?” Lisa asked her softly. “How can I in 80 years?”

Jean grew silent. “You could still try,” she tried weakly.

“Of course.” Lisa refilled her cup. “And knowing you, you’d try until every bone in your body breaks. But you should know that loving someone is a timeless commitment.”

“Loving you forever would be my miracle,” Jean admitted. “I want to.”

Lisa’s smile was wry. “Well, at least now we know what that Inazuman archon goes on about, hmm?” she said leisurely. “A lightning strike takes less than a blink of an eye. If that could last forever, maybe someone could count the individual jags on it.”

Jean tilted her head. “Why would someone want to do that?”

“The same reason you’d go through hell to protect Mondstadt.”

Jean frowned. “And you.”

Lisa didn’t hear her, or at least pretended not to. “Would you like some more before you leave for work, dear?”

Lisa was her lightning bolt.

She was gone in a split second, and she didn’t have to ponder why her knights looked so grim coming into her office for very long. Jean didn’t ask. She didn’t think she could, anyway.

She’d count every death and opportunity to save her equally, if only just to find a way to save her once. To make her time alive boundless to the sands of an hourglass. 

Jean didn’t bother going to the Cathedral. 

She prayed again. 

Jean hurried her to get out of bed. They ate a quick breakfast and were out of the door without a moment to spare, and despite Lisa’s grogginess, she was more attentive than ever to Jean’s commands. 

“Where are we going?” she asked, for what seemed like the nth time that day.

“It’s an emergency,” Jean answered again, and she gritted her teeth. 

Once they were in the Favonious Headquarters, Jean gripped her elbow. Not enough to bruise, but enough to steer her where she wanted without much trouble. Lisa didn’t understand, but she trusted Jean enough to let her lead. It made Jean’s heart hurt, but she had been steeling herself for it since the day before. Or, the last time Lisa had died— time was blurring and souring the more she spent in her hell loop. 

“Jean.” Lisa faltered in her steps. Jean looked back over at her, tugging her elbow. Lisa didn’t move this time. “Why are we down here?”

“Please,” Jean begged. She tugged again, and Lisa moved ever so slightly. “You’ll be safe down here.”

“Down here?” Lisa sounded distraught. “In the dungeons?”

“Lisa, please, I know this sounds unconventional but this is the only place I know where no one can get you.” Jean let go of her arm to cup her face. “You’ll only be down here until sunset, and then I’ll come get you myself.”

“Is someone trying to kill me?” Lisa asked her, and she sounded more worried about being left in the uncleaned dungeons than the fact that there might be someone there to kill her.

“No, no— at least, I don’t think so.” Jean shook her head frantically. “But you have to trust me.”

“I do, darling. I do.” 

Jean could almost close her eyes and envision those soft words being said somewhere else, somewhere better than here. 

But instead, she said, “Then you have to stay here. Please. I can’t rest easy until you do.”

Lisa’s look of betrayal hurt almost just as much as the vision of seeing her glassy stare on the floor. 

She left Lisa in a hidden cell nearest to the exit, just in case. She told Lisa that she loved her, but got no response back. That was okay with her, as long as Lisa did it out of her own volition, and not because of the blue lips that plagued her during death.

Two knights saluted her. They had been waiting for her.

“Take as many knights out on duty and station them in the west dungeons.” Her voice was clipped. She continued to walk. 

One of the knights spoke, sounding slightly incredulous. “All of them, Acting Grand Master?”

“All available on duty.”

“But, the situation outside Mondstadt, it’s getting worse and the Cavalry Captain said—”

“Do as I say.”

Her cold inflection stopped both of them from speaking again. Jean turned around to eye them both. Defeated, the knights only saluted her, said nothing more, and left immediately. 

Jean watched them go. Once she was sure that they were doing as told, she deflated. She could deal with the situation with the mages later. Nothing was more important than Lisa right now. She was sure this would work, finally, and they could all put it behind them. 

In the past, as it should belong. 

A knight burst through her office, neither of them the men she had asked to take care of her problem just half an hour ago.

All he had to do was say, “Lisa,” and she was on her feet. 

He led her to the dungeons where she had dragged Lisa, and just as he had explained, the cell was empty. Jean barked orders at him and another knight to check the perimeter for her missing lover (prisoner was said unspoken, and the knights knew it). 

She unlocked Lisa’s cell in a hurry, jumping right in to look around for any clues of her escape. She had thought of every possible thing to keep her safe— how had she slipped, again?

The cell door creaked noisily shut. Jean turned around to face Lisa, who looked grim and unhappy about the situation. Perhaps that’s exactly how she looked when she asked Lisa to lock herself in here, maybe even for the last moments of her life. 

“You’re hiding something from me and you’re going to get killed trying,” Lisa said, and it wasn’t a question. “I’ll handle it, Jean, I promise. I’ll come back before nightfall.”

Lisa held onto her hand through the bar. Jean’s hands had turned deathly cold. Her lips couldn’t move to form any words, even as her mind screamed at Lisa for her to stay. 

“I love you always, my sweet knight,” Lisa said to her, and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. Then she was gone. 

When Jean pressed her back against the cell wall and slid to the floor, crying and crying until her throat became hoarse and her eyes pulsed with the pressure of unshed tears, Lisa stayed gone. 

She cried from morning until nightfall. 

Her panic attacks rose and fell throughout the day, receding and coming back in stronger strokes like the shelter of a cloud and its sunshine. Her head pounded heavily with the lack of oxygen, her harsh intakes of breath mingling with the hiccups of her tears. Dread covered all surfaces of her skin and she was alone, all alone, and she could do nothing but pace her cage like a clipped lion. 

No one came to get her, even as she heard the noisy marching from above her turn into noisy stomping and running. Jean had been backed into her corner, forever faced with a prison that she couldn’t find herself out of.

And yet she prayed.

When she woke, Lisa was alive the next morning. 

She wasn’t in bed, and she wasn’t making breakfast either. She was tending to the flowers on the flowerbeds next to their front door, humming a quiet song to herself as she did so. It was already early afternoon when Jean had gotten up, and it was a fact that Lisa was quick to remark. She had made Jean breakfast, pizza already on their kitchen table, in case she was hungry and stressed out from whatever made her sleep in for so long. 

Jean started to cry.

Shocked, Lisa dropped her watering can and immediately ran to Jean’s aid. She forced Jean to sit on the bricks of their flowerbed and rubbed her back, soothing her with quiet whispers of encouragement.

“What’s wrong, love?” Lisa murmured. “You’re okay here. I promise.”

“No, it’s not—" Jean's voice rose in pitch. She felt a panic attack shoot through her system, but she squashed as best as she could. She shook her head. "It doesn’t matter. I’m okay, it’s… nothing I do here is ever enough, every day ends in disaster.” Jean felt like she was choking on her own words. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this.”

Lisa listened to her words attentively. She continued to rub her back, but it did nothing to soothe the weight on Jean’s shoulders. “What do you need, sweetheart?” Lisa asked her instead. It was a question she asked every time Jean was falling apart. 

Jean didn’t think Lisa knew how much she was crumbling today.

“I think…” Jean hesitated. Even the mere thought of it made her tongue dry. “I think I need to be alone,” she managed to choke out. 

Lisa looked surprised.  “Of course. Anything you need.” She kissed Jean’s hairline. “I don’t see why you thought that was so hard to tell me— you deserve to rest once in a while, contrary to popular belief.”

“But then I’ll be leaving you,” Jean said, and it almost came forth from her mouth like a child’s whimper. 

“Maybe for a couple hours.” Lisa tapped her chin with a finger. Her other hand gripped Jean’s hand on her lap like a vice, and it was what grounded Jean to the soil. “And I guess I could see why being apart from my lovely presence can cause such a reaction, but even you deserve your alone time, Jean.”

Jean mulled that over. “You know I could never be able to forgive myself if I leave you and something happens to you,” she said faintly. “I’d sooner give up my own life than let that ever happen.”

“You’re on your last leg, dear,” Lisa replied, brushing a stray strand out of Jean’s face. “Mondstadt worked you to your poor bones. You deserve to have some ‘me time’ when you need it.”

“And if it kills you?”

She said it so seriously that Lisa looked taken aback. To her credit, she took it in stride. “Then let it,” Lisa said truthfully. “I’ve never begged you for anything outside our bedroom, Jean, but please just this once, think for yourself.”

Jean smiled weakly. It made her heart race and burn with the guilt, but she couldn’t do it anymore. Lisa thought that she needed time to get away from everything; if she knew the truth, would she hate her?

Jean already knew she hated herself more than anything else. 

“You are the woman of my dreams, Lisa,” Jean told her. She did her best to keep the tears out of her voice. “Of every dream I’ve ever had, they were of you.”

Lisa pressed her lips against her with a tenderness of a lullaby. “And you are mine.”

Even your nightmares? Jean wanted to ask. Because you are in every single one of those too.

She stayed in their bedroom, staring at a corner. She did nothing more than that, even as she heard Lisa bustle around the house getting ready for her day. Lisa sounded so excited to have a day without responsibility, so so excited. It made her intestines twist and turn. Her heart burned with so much heat she was sure that it was the thing that fueled her hot tears. 

When Barbara came to her house, sobs stuck in her chest and her face dripping with tears, Jean already knew. The entire day, from the moment she woke up, she felt as if she was in an echo in a chamber. This wasn't like her. This was no recharge from the attempts she took to save Lisa's life. 

She only felt heavier guilt, and Jean knew she deserved to die. 

She let her sister lead her to the Cathedral. 

She prayed to repent herself. 

Lisa was alive the next morning. 

She begged for Lisa to stay in bed, hounding the poor woman even before she fully opened her eyes. 

Lisa wasn’t one to complain, but she looked at Jean with a suspicious glare, even as her arms wrapped around Jean’s neck and Jean’s hands made soothing circles on her bare sides. 

“You’ve never asked me to stay in bed before,” she said, and her voice carried a mistrust. 

Jean laughed happily, nuzzling her neck and kissing the spot there. “There’s a first time for everything, Lisa.”

“Not when the first time is ditching work and doing nothing,” Lisa accused. She titled Jean’s head upwards with a finger to look at her properly. The twitch of her lips told Jean that she was happy for the development regardless, so long as she knew that Jean wasn’t replaced with a clone and was given a potion to reverse her personality. Jean was more than happy to dispel her worries. 

“I’m sure they could take care of themselves for a day,” Jean said dismissively. Lisa’s mouth slackened in shock. “You taught me that I could do things for the heck of it. Remember?”

“I did, but I didn’t think you would take the advice,” Lisa said, incredulous. Her laughter bubbled over, however, and pecked Jean on the lips. “This is the best day of my life, Jean, I hope you understand that.”

“I do,” Jean said proudly. She was counting on it. Even as her chest squeezed. 

They kissed and tangled their limbs together all day. Even as the storm rumbled its warning outside their window, they continued to pay no attention to it. They only paid attention to each other, whispering stories and sweet nothings to each other and running hands down soft skin under the silky duvets.

Jean held her like the most loveliest thing she could ever have. And yet, she knew if she let go now, Lisa would leave. 

“I love you more than anything in the world,” Jean said adoringly, Lisa laughed softly against her hair. “I would do anything for you.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that,” Lisa remarked jocosely. 

Jean tilted her head. She shifted her weight so Lisa could move her back against the mattress easier, and then asked, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Lisa said, looking up at the ceiling. She pretended to think. “If I could see you saying that to a building in Mondstadt, I wouldn’t call it the most romantic thing in the world.”

“I would not,” Jean said indignantly, and Lisa laughed. 

“It’s an adorable trait of yours, Jean,” Lisa cooed. She cupped Jean’s face in her hands and squeezed them together. “You are the most selfless woman I have ever met. It makes me worry most of the time, but… what can I do?” She sighed wistfully. “I love you despite everything you think about yourself and your worth.”

Jean frowned. “I would hope, at least, that you know I wouldn’t put a building first over you.”

Lisa kissed the tip of her nose, a giggle on her lips. “I didn’t mean it literally, dearest,” she responded. “I just meant you had a tendency to take care of this city like it's your own blood.”

“Well.” Jean blinked. “Surely, if you asked any of the knights—”

“If I asked any of them,” Lisa interrupted, chiding her with a tap on the lips, “they’d agree with me. Sure, a lot of them would run straight into danger if it meant protecting this place, but you— I know you well enough to know you’d hold Mondstadt on your own two shoulders if you could.”

Jean pondered that. She supposed there was truth to Lisa’s words. “I would still put you first,” she said truthfully. There was a bitterness in her mouth when she said it. As if it didn’t agree, or sit quite as right, with her own thoughts. 

Lisa’s smile softened. She gazed at Jean for a long moment, looking from one side of her face to the other, before speaking. “Maybe,” she said, and she didn’t sound tart about it. Only… a little sad. “Maybe that’s why I was so surprised you wanted to stay home with me.”

“Because I would be putting off work?” Jean guessed. 

“Mhm.” Lisa kissed her again. Jean kissed her back, relishing in her selfish action. Just this once. “And you felt… different today, darling.”

Jean knitted her brow. “Not in a bad way, I hope.”

“No.” Lisa chuckled lowly. She put her thumb on Jean’s lower lip and swiped it. “But it made me think that maybe you were right.”

Jean cleared her throat. Something about the topic made her uneasy, so she opted to change the topic. She asked Lisa about their flowers, and Lisa was more than happy to oblige. She spoke about how easily they bloomed that season, and that she’d never seen such lively flowers from their porch.

They flitted from topic to topic, sharing kisses and adoring words in between it all. It was a perfect day to be together, and they had lost track of time.

Lisa yawned, big and wide, when the sun started to set. “You really did keep me in bed all day,” Lisa noted while looking out their window, impressed. She looked back at Jean. The winds were howling louder, noting its ineluctable presence. 

“Stay with me while I take a nap? I’ll wake up before dinner,” Lisa said, and she stifled another yawn in between. She frowned to herself. “I’m not usually this tired during the day. I’m sorry, Jean. I would help with dinner if I could.”

“No.” Jean rubbed the side of her hip. “Stay here, my love.”

The use of the rare pet name made Lisa smile. “If you insist.”

Jean didn’t move from beside her while Lisa settled in for sleep. Not even when her breaths slowed down and evened out, her eyelids fluttering ever so softly, and not when her breaths stopped entirely.

At least, at the very least, Lisa passed on gently this time, gentle as their love.

Jean got up and moved their blanket up to her chin. She kissed Lisa’s temple, and she did her best not to taint this image of this beautiful, melancholic dream with tears on Lisa’s skin. Jean held it together for as long as she could. 

She went to the Cathedral and prayed. 

Lisa was alive the next morning. 

And the next morning. 

And the next. 

And the next. 

And the next.

And the next. 

And the next. 

Each day was harder than the last, and yet Jean craved each meeting in the morning like an alcoholic to wine. Her tears stopped a few reiterations ago, her body too tired from the emotional labor to produce more. It didn't stop her mind from grieving. 

In fact, the lack of physical response from her body and the tumultuous anger and grief was so mismatched that she felt that her own existence was her purgatory. She felt numb everywhere except for her heart and mind, and her soul was somewhere deep inside her skin, unmoving to the situation that presented itself in front of her every twenty-four hours of the day. 

Her soul only responded to Lisa's touches, her words, her eyes. 

It felt as if it was the only thing she lived for anymore. 

“Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,” Jean read out to her. They were out of the walls of the city, taking a picnic near Jean’s favorite spot. “But bears it out even to the edge of doom.”

“Ooh, I liked that one,” Lisa commented. Her fingernails grazed the scalp that rested on her lap. Jean liked the shivers it sent from her hair to her body. “I didn’t know you liked the more contemporary pieces, Jean. I would’ve brought you some books on it.”

Jean looked up at her and smiled honestly. “They’ll hound me if I get back into the city. Do you want to go fishing out here for a while?”

“I thought something happened with two of your boys at the Headquarters?” Lisa asked with a frown. Her fingers ran over Jean’s temples. “Why don’t you sort that out first?”

Jean laid the novel on her chest and brought her hand up to Lisa’s face. Her thumb ran over the line of her soft jaw gently, and Lisa closed her eyes with a faint smile. 

“When you look as beautiful as you are right here?” Jean asked her. “I could never leave you behind.”

Lisa was alive the next morning. 

But Jean knew she would be dead by the next. 

She continued to pray, despite the cyclone of misery in her heart. 

Once, Jean asked her to elope with her at the Headquarters. Confused but happy to oblige, Lisa married her for exactly four hours and forty minutes.

“Jean?” 

Jean hummed her acknowledgment. 

“Have you ever tried to gamble with a god?”

Jean didn’t move. 

She looked up at her, cautious and curious, and asked, “What makes you ask?”

Lisa looked languid in her movements as drew closer to Jean. “I had this most insightful conversation with this young girl from Liyue,” she started, and Jean’s frozen veins slowly melted away into relief. “We talked for about, I’d like to say, a few hours? Maybe a little more? Oh, she was the loveliest thing, she brought me tea and everything. The conversation is probably what put me out of commission today to lie in bed to recharge, now that I think about it.”

“And what did she say?”

“Oh! Well.” Lisa pulled her lips to one side to think. She rubbed her hands together. “We started to talk about gods. She works in the gambling business, so she made this— this really insightful analogy that stuck with me a little. I’m not quite sure why.”

Jean instinctively held onto Lisa’s hand when a wind passed through them. Their trek home was finding to be a little difficult in the fog. She frowned. “Gambling?”

“Yes.” Lisa seemed to scramble to remember. When she did, she looked as if she was considering it herself. “Asking for things, especially from a god, sways in their favor. It’s never good to ask for it, because what they want from you would never be enough.” She paused, then added, “I remember her saying that it was a lot like a drop of water compared to an entire ocean.”

Jean felt her stomach drop. She licked her lips to remove some of the dryness from them, and said, “Your friend sounds wise.”

“She was a little too cryptic, if you ask me,” Lisa said. “But there is some truth to it.”

“Have you ever asked something from a god?” Jean asked her curiously. And to provide herself a sort of buffer from the humming of her heart. 

Lisa’s eyes seemed to darken at that. “Once. And I’ve yet to see what costs it needs,” she replied vaguely. And then she teased, “How about you, Grand Master Jean? You couldn’t possibly be so lucky to have everything you want in your life without a little cheat code?”

Her stomach churned at that.

Is this the way the gods wanted to balance the good fortune in her life then? By taking the one person she put above the gods?

“Jean?” Lisa said again, and her voice crept with worry.

“Sorry. Just thinking. About what you said,” Jean apologized. “I guess I’ve… prayed to them for something. Just one thing.”

“Just one?” Lisa sounded genuinely impressed. “That ‘one thing’ must be important to you, cutie.”

“Yes,” Jean agreed. “The most important thing in my life.”

Jean didn’t have to look over at her to know that Lisa was deep in thought.

“They’ve been helping me,” she supplied in lieu of the silence between them. Lisa quietly ran her thumb over the back of her hand. Their clasped hands were starting to feel heavy in her palm. She didn’t quite understand why. “They’ve been giving me so many chances to prove myself and help me get what I want but I can’t— I can’t get it myself. No matter what I do. I can’t do it. So I let myself… be greedy, while I figure it out, I suppose.” 

Her somber tone made Lisa look serious for once during their trip. “Tampering with the laws of nature and with the might of the gods could do more damage than you realize, Jean,” she said matter-of-factly. 

“But you know how meticulous I could be,” Jean argued. “I know how to weave myself through this.” Eventually, she hoped. She just hoped that whatever ends needed to meet, she would be prepared for it. 

“Desperate people lose sight of how to get to the end,” Lisa said morosely. “The more you get, the more you want. The more you lose…”

Jean didn’t need her to finish the sentence. 

“You need to look forward, Jean.” Lisa stopped them in the middle of the road. It was nearly empty, most folks opting to stay indoors due the storm that hovered ahead menacingly. Lisa’s cool hand was placed on her cheek and Jean looked back down. “There’s nothing I want from you other than to do that.”

A bulb flashed over her head. “You’re right,” she said in awe. She stepped back from Lisa’s embrace in mere shock. “I— I need to look forward. I’ve been begging them to reset every day to get what I want, but I should’ve been— I should have asked them to go forward. With you.” Jean couldn’t help but laugh. She was so happy that she could almost cry. “With you!”

Lisa, on the other hand, did not look as happy as she did. 

She looked mournful. 

“Even over Mondstadt?” she asked gently.

“Wh… what?”

“Would you choose to go forward even at its expense?” Lisa asked her. Jean looked at her like she was another person. What made her say things like that? How could she say things like that?

But then she thought of every day she spent with Lisa in her bubbled loop. It may have been less of a hell when she chose to spend it solely with Lisa, spending it with picnics and dates and intertwined bodies on an unmade mattress, but it was utter hell for the people she loved. 

She’d abandon her work for Lisa, leaving uncommanded knights and a chaos that was to be reckoned with. Once, she left her knights unattended to combat foes they were not prepared for, and she was so preoccupied with her prayers that she tuned out the moans of pain from dying soldiers and cries of their mothers and wives by their side at the Cathedral. She had even made a poor judgement of a murderer to let herself grieve. It would have been prevented under her rigorous guidance, just as the many things she left behind for Lisa’s day. 

What leader was she to abandon the people of her city, for a woman whose death was marked with a kiss from the eye of the storm?

Lisa pressed a kiss to her lips, gentle and loving. Somehow, it felt final. 

“You are a good woman, Jean,” Lisa said fondly. “You deserve to be happy.”

“I deserve to be happy with you.” Jean’s voice couldn’t stop from shaking. 

“You deserve to be happy regardless of where I am with you.”

Jean shook her head. She refused to let it end that way. How could she? It would be the same as giving up. Of waving her flag of defeat. For Lisa, she would never, could never, do so. But Lisa seemed to be all willing for it, even though she didn’t know the weight behind her words. And yet Jean knew she would say the exact same if she did. 

“I hope you know that in whatever you choose, Jean, I want to marry you for a reason.” Lisa’s look of adoration never faltered. 

That clumped her throat in an instant. 

“I’ll marry you when the gods permit it,” Jean promised. She had never made such a more solemn promise in her life. She kissed Lisa’s fingertip, where her heartbeat laid. 

Lisa only smiled indolently. 

They both knew what it meant. 

Depending where lightning struck, it had the potential to be destructive, leaving brazen fields and injury in its wake. And Lisa’s lightning had struck over and over. 

“Find me when you come home,” Lisa said. “It’ll be a beautiful day tomorrow.”

Jean didn’t move until she was completely out of sight. She knew what it meant when Lisa left. She didn’t need to look to know that her Lisa had died in some way, a design by gods that wanted what was due to them. It just so happened that they favored her in their grand design, even if it seemed cruel in the process.

She walked through the empty streets of Mondstadt without much on her mind. Too much thinking would make her collapse on her knees, hyperventilating and crying from the pressure of it all. Jean liked to think that she was just on a stroll to pick up groceries for their breakfast, and that she needed to make a stop towards the Church to say her thanks to the gods. 

After all, haven’t they given her so much for so little she deserved?

She thought of those glassy eyes. 

She thought of the city she loved. 

Jean couldn’t help but wonder where those two overlapped, and which direction she would choose in the end. 

When she burst through the doors of the Church of Favonius, the nuns were so grateful to see her. They begged for her help, just as they had done many times before. This time, Jean stopped in her tracks. She listened kindly to them, nodding along to what they needed and thanked them for the services they offered to the city.

She grabbed blankets and distributed it among the cold men, women, and children that lined the infrastructure of the Church. Jean spoke to many of them, crouching down to ease their worries about the storm and the frightening rumble above that shook the roof. Mothers mouthed their thanks to her when she managed to make the children laugh, and men boisterously clapped her on the back and promised to register for the knights first thing in the morning if they were to survive the weather. 

Jean hadn’t noticed how lively they seemed inside the Church until she took a look around. They were the people she loved as a whole, the living heart of the city that she had devoted most of her life to. She had been loyal for decades, beating her body down to its very limit just to keep them safe as they were now. 

When the sky darkened and the lanterns were going out, and small children cried in their mother’s hushing arms, Jean knelt. She closed her eyes. 

Chapter Text

The morning clouds looked feathery like pillows in the sky. Its golden light shone down on the cracked pavement of her city, forcing an antithesis of the broken soil and the brilliant sun.

Jean looked helplessly outside of her home, gazing at the broken stalls and the bodies that limped around her. Some of them had to be carried on stretchers, and she couldn’t be sure that some were taking their breaths. Regardless, the sun shone down on them in pity, highlighting the blood that caked broken noses and the laughter of the children that hopped over the giant cracks in the concrete. Mothers yelled after them to be careful, and their fathers hauled severed limbs from in between those cracks.

She spotted an older woman trying to make her way down the steps, and Jean rushed to her side to help. 

“Let me,” she pleaded, and the old woman smiled at her as she let her down the steps of her broken stairs. 

“You’re quite the gentleman,” the woman commented. “Your wife must be lucky.”

Jean turned pink in the ears. “Oh, we aren’t—”

But the woman disappeared into the masses, and Jean deflated. She shook her head, grimacing when the sound of agitation grew somewhere a mile away. Probably near the Headquarters. She knew that once she made her way there, she would be busy cleaning her hands of the blood that spilled in her city. 

The storm had taken a big hit against Mondstadt, shattering homes and leading to destruction in its path. It was too early in the morning to know the exact number of casualties, but from the grim expressions her early patrol made as they passed her, it wasn’t going to be something she could digest too easily.

Jean had managed to run all the way home to hold Lisa close to her before the storm hit its peak. They held each other until it blew past their house, only causing damage to their chimney and the poor flowers in front of their house. 

She promised the flowers to find more soil and seeds at the market when everything cooled down. 

The sun, at the very least, was happy enough to keep their flowers warm until she could find it. 

“Look at you with your sleeves rolled up,” Lisa purred approvingly. She slid up next to her and put her head on Jean’s shoulder, sighing at the sight in front of them. It was an utter mess. “I hope you don’t expect me to clean all of this up.”

She was joking and making light of the situation, Jean knew that much. She could tell from the sadness that clouded her eyes, even if the morning birds and the clouds made her look so beautiful after the storm.

Jean kissed the top of her head. “I’ll deal with it. You should stay home.”

“And do what?” Lisa sounded offended by that. “The worst of the storm is over. I don’t need to be kept inside like Rapunzel in her tower.”

Jean laughed merrily at that. “You’re right. You can come with me to the Headquarters if you’d like, but I should warn you that it wouldn’t look… as pretty.”

Lisa sighed sadly. “I know.”

Jean kissed her forehead, then her cheekbone, then the corner of her lips. “I’m just really glad you’re safe,” she said genuinely. She didn’t look away from Lisa, her peripherals intentionally blocking out the sight of mass destruction all around them. There was only Lisa to her.

Maybe this carnage in her city wasn’t worth it.

Perhaps she should turn back time, and try again.

But no. She decided against it.

This was the right choice. 

“After you’re finished sorting everyone out at the Headquarters and I’d be your little helper for once, do you think you’ll have time for a midnight dinner?” Lisa asked her curiously. They walked together towards the sound of anger and turmoil, the sun shining down on them with a blessing of its warmth.

She hummed at Lisa’s suggestion. Maybe then, she could pop the question. Their rings felt heavy in her coat pocket.

“It’s a beautiful Monday,” Jean told her with a smile. She looked only at her. “It would be a shame to waste it while you’re by my side.”

For Lisa, as always, was the reason for her every action. 

Chapter Text

The children laughed and squealed in delight as they kicked a ball around Mondstadt’s pristine streets. The clouds were shining below them, the shine of the sun glaring directing into her flowerbeds. Her flowers, unfortunately, drooped sadly. Even the gardener that lived beside her looked at them in astonishment. 

“The light storm last night should’ve helped them fertilize, if anything,” he said to her when he passed. Jean shrugged and promised to look for him later that night to take a closer look. 

Jean took a deep breath and looked around her neighborhood. It was beautiful, with the way the rainwater reflected the smiles of her people as they waved at her and chattered excitedly to their peers. The storm had passed them without a single casualty, leaving her city to celebrate its absence and the welcoming sunshine. Even so, she stood there wearing her black sleeves, and two rings that dangled loosely from her neck. 

She spotted an older woman trying to make her way down the steps, and Jean rushed to her side to help. 

“Let me,” she pleaded, and the old woman smiled at her as she let her down the steps of her broken stairs. 

“You’re quite the gentleman,” the woman commented. “Your wife must be lucky.”

Jean smiled sadly. “She—”

But the woman disappeared into the masses, and Jean deflated. She shook her head, grimacing when the pop of a firework filled the air. Her ears had been ringing with them all day. People from all over the city were much too excited to care about the usual conducts, and even knights took part in their silly street games and the discounted prices of merchants who were already grateful for having their produce rescued from the storm. 

She had already spoken to Kaeya and taken the rings off his hands. She thanked him profusely for keeping them so diligently, while he only smiled sadly at her and told her that he would always be of service. Jean had hesitated for a moment when he asked, then asked him if he was willing to help her prepare for Lisa’s memorial a week from now. He accepted in an instant. 

Lisa had been the sole casualty of the storm. Most of Mondstadt didn’t know, as Jean had asked her knights to keep it a secret until tomorrow— their spirits were high and jubilant, and she would rather not sour their mood with something so despondent. Jean didn’t think she was ready to accept it herself; thinking of Lisa only opened the pit in her stomach even more. 

She wondered if she even had made the right choice. It was possible her city would have persisted against the storm regardless of Lisa or not. 

But no. She decided against it.

This was the right choice. 

Lisa would have said the same thing. She would have even jumped for joy if she knew that she had been promoted to Grand Master due to her commitment to the city, officiated by Varka himself. 

“Jean?”

Jean turned to look at her sister. Barbara fiddled with her hands, unwilling to meet her eyes. “I… know that you have a lot on your mind about… and if you want time alone, I wouldn’t mind! I just wanted to know if you wanted to get some food with me at the festival later. I thought that maybe spending time with someone would help you take your mind off of it, unless you…”

Jean laughed. Genuinely and honestly. It surprised Barbara, who looked up at her with eyebrows raised. 

“It’s a beautiful Monday,” Jean told her with a smile. She looked only at her. “It would be a shame to waste it without spending time with everyone at the festival, right?”

For Mondstadt, as always, was the reason for her every action.