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“What do you mean you’re leaving?”
Varka sighs. It’s that same exasperated sigh he used whenever Diluc and Kaeya wouldn’t stop bickering during training. The same sigh he let out whenever he found Lisa passed out at a table in the library. The one that told Kaeya he was being childish, naive, presumptuous, a whole list of words he couldn’t even begin to process.
“We’ve been discussing this for a while now, Kaeya. You knew this day would come eventually.”
The excursion itself had been in the talks for quite some time, but he didn’t expect anything of it. Grand Master Varka was known to go out on long expeditions, sometimes gone from Mondstadt for weeks at a time. But this was different. Six months to a year was a long time to leave the Grand Master’s office empty. And the sheer number of knights they would take with them, too—
“I just didn’t think it would be this soon,” Kaeya breathes out, following Varka around his office as he packs things away, pulling books and maps into a travel bag. “Who would even take your place? How will the city survive on twenty percent of our defenses? How would they—”
“You’re overthinking this, child.”
“And you’re under thinking this!” Kaeya protests, his voice rising. He had rarely ever been like this; teasing and coy, sure—but never belligerent, never disrespectful.
Varka just sends him a look. One that immediately makes Kaeya shrivel up. Only Varka could chastise him like this, make him shut his mouth and look away out of pure respect.
“I’ve already given it a lot of thought, contrary to your belief,” Varka hums, continuing to pack his belongings away. “Jean will take my place while I’m gone, as Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius.”
A sound decision, as Jean was the most competent person being left behind to handle the Knights. Eula Lawrence was an option, but the majority of Mondstadt would riot before they willingly gave her any authority besides what she already possessed as a Captain.
In any case, it explained why Kaeya had not seen neither hide nor hair of Jean in nearly two days. She had likely been informed of Grand Master Varka’s decision in advance and was already beginning to get her affairs sorted before she would assume position as the leader of the city.
“And who will become Cavalry Captain in her stead?”
Varka pauses in his packing and sends Kaeya another look. Full of patience and understanding that seemed so out of place in a large, hulking figure like his. “You know the answer to that question, Kaeya.”
No, Kaeya, in fact, didn’t. He thinks it over as best as he could. Albedo is already a captain of a different division and wasn’t too fond of administrative work anyways. As Cavalry Captain, he would be required to spend less time in his lab or holed away somewhere up on Dragonspine to work more locally, supervising the defenses, training knights-to-be. Being Captain of the Cavalry division was perhaps the most arduous of all the other divisions because it encompassed Mondstadt’s municipal defenses as a whole, not just the soldiers on horseback.
Eula is another option but she, much like Albedo, is already a Captain. And the Reconnaissance division is one of the only orders of the knights to be left untouched by Varka’s excursion. Reconnaissance, after all, was very important to Mondstadt’s security. There is no way Eula would be able to leave her position.
Then there’s Lisa but Kaeya highly doubts she would accept the position even if her salary was tripled and everyone in Mondstadt got down on their knees and begged. (She would honestly enjoy it a little too much…)
That only really left… “...Hertha?”
Grand Master Varka’s look shifts into one of exasperation. It was a look Kaeya often felt himself or Jean exuding on the not-so-rare occasions Varka would throw out a corny joke or laugh at his own quirkiness.
“Ok then… one of the Majors in the Cavalry division? Elias? Gisela?”
“You, Kaeya. I’m talking about you.”
Kaeya simply throws his head back and laughs.
“Oh, the city’s going to burn the very first day you leave!” Kaeya had to grasp the side of the Grand Master’s desk to keep himself upright. “Jean will have my head before you’ve even passed Dawn Winery.”
“I’m not kidding, Kaeya.”
“Well, Master Varka, I think you’ve seriously lost it this time.”
“Kaeya,” Varka says firmly. “You’ve proven yourself capable countless times already.”
“B-but I…” he trails off.
“You have a nasty habit of being astute in all matters except those concerning yourself,” Varka hums, leisurely tying the strings on his knapsack, unusually serious for once. “You would do well to get rid of that habit. The Cavalry Unit can’t have their next Captain being unaware of his own abilities.”
He slings his bag over one shoulder and walks past Kaeya to get to the door. He lays one heavy hand on Kaeya’s head.
“I know you’ll do your predecessors proud, Kaeya. All of us.”
The emphasis leaves Kaeya reeling for a few minutes after he shuts the door.
The hallway outside the wardrobe office is quiet, save for a murmur of voices leaking up the stairs and around the corner. Jean looks like a vision in her new Ordo-issued uniform, though she likely won’t be wearing it most days.
Kaeya wears a matching one, newly tailored to his body and still-widening shoulders. Though with all the paperwork he’ll have to complete as the new Cavalry Captain instead of combat and training, he supposes that won’t continue for much longer.
Jean’s nails are bitten down and raw at the edges. It’s perhaps the only part of her that is unkempt aside from the wild look in her eyes.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” Kaeya offers, as she fixes her eyes on him, seeking out his words—the comfort of distraction. “Out of everyone in Mondstadt, you’re the most qualified for the position.”
“We both know that’s not true,” she says.
He didn’t know how to reassure her because it was true. Everyone knew it. Diluc Ragnvindr became one of the ten honored Captains of the Knights at the young age of fourteen, the youngest the Order had ever seen in recorded history. He was a competent leader, a powerful warrior, intelligent and well-respected by the population. Diluc was on track to be the next Grand Master, mentored by Varka himself, and everyone was sure House Ragnvindr would return to its seat of power as custodians of Mond. Until the attack. Until Crepus died and gave Diluc a perfect excuse to quietly retire from the Knights and take over the business.
He breaks the gaze, sighing deeply. “He doesn’t live this life anymore, Jean.”
“But if he did? If the two of us were still just Majors under someone’s command. Or if the two of us were captains of different divisions—”
“It will do you no good to agonize over ‘what if’s, Jean.”
Kaeya knew that fact all too well.
He runs a thumb over the vision hanging off the belt of his formal Ordo uniform, ice cold and brimming with power. He remembers the first time he had touched a vision. Hot to the touch—not hostile, but warm and inviting. Like a sun captured in a gem.
He stands up abruptly to break the tension.
“In any case, I must congratulate the Gunnhildr Heir for her spectacular achievement,” he kneels in front of her, bowing his head with a hand over his chest in excessive formality. “The second Grand Master of Ordo Favonius from House Gunnhildr. Quite an accomplishment, indeed—“
He is cut off when Jean gives him a shove and nearly knocks him off balance. He laughs and returns to his seat beside her, bumping her shoulder in a manner oddly reminiscent of their younger years.
He wonders what Diluc would think, if he were here. Would he once again grumble under his breath about the Ordo’s lack of efficiency? Would he scowl at the two of them for acting so unbecoming of future senior officers? Or would he simply sit down between the two of them, shoving them apart and sitting between them to put an end to their bickering like he had done so many times before when they were kids. (“Ever the older brother,” Kaeya would sigh, shaking his head mournfully after their play fighting comes to a grinding halt. Diluc would level him with a glare as Jean giggles.)
Kaeya elbows Jean. She elbows him back. Harder.
She glances down at her fingernails, bitten to raw knubs, and lets out a deep sigh. She mutters something under her breath, mind obviously taken a turn somewhere else. So Kaeya lets his mind wander as well.
(Kaeya is pretty sure Diluc would do the latter.)
Kaeya remembers when Diluc was promoted to Cavalry Captain.
The two of them were just fourteen years old, Diluc almost fifteen, while Jean was approaching her thirteenth birthday. It was a bright and sunny day, as it usually was in the City of Mondstadt, but the city seemed even more alive in the wake of their most distinguished young heir being promoted to Captain.
Crepus was over the moon, sitting in the seat of honor: the first row, the seat closest to the center aisle. He was called up and presented with two shiny badges on a velvet-lined tray, one for Diluc and the other for Kaeya, who was being newly inducted into the knights.
The two badges were pinned onto each of the boys’ lapels, and Crepus pulled the two of them into a tight hug, kissing the tops of both their heads and spinning around as if to present his two sons to the crowd. He had a proud flush on his cheeks as he looked down at both his sons.
The youngest Cavalry Captain in recorded history. A second adopted son, also part of the distinguished knights— and part of the Cavalry, to boot! House Ragnvindr was very pleased that day indeed.
Diluc remained Cavalry Captain for just over two and a half years. He was diligent and efficient despite his young age. His overwhelming talent and candid approach to his work earned him the respect of the knights who were twice his age. And just like his vision, he burned with passion and determination.
It was never officially announced but everyone knew he would be Varka’s heir.
Until his eighteenth birthday.
Until Kaeya revealed his true identity.
Until the two of them fought nearly to the death in the rain before the arrival of Kaeya’s vision froze the two of them in place.
Until Diluc disappeared for three years and returned a mere shadow of who he used to be.
Jean’s mother would present her badge, as the Head of the illustrious Gunnhildr Clan. Jean’s promotion—albeit temporary—was an honor that her clan would immortalize for the rest of its existence.
In Kaeya’s case, he had no family to pin his badge on his lapel. Varka was the closest thing he currently had to a father, but he would be leading the event. Kaeya resigned himself to simply standing in front of the crowd, taking the badge, and pinning it to his uniform himself. His promotion would be lackluster in comparison to Jean’s; he didn’t have the backing of a revered and ancient clan. He didn’t have a cool title like Jean’s “Dandelion Knight” nor did he have a reputation as formidable as Varka’s.
He would simply be Kaeya: the new Cavalry Captain. The successor of Jean Gunnhildr, the Dandelion Knight of House Gunnhildr. The estranged son of House Ragnvindr.
The day approaches with trepidation. Jean and Kaeya will be promoted. Varka and his selection of Knights will depart the next day. Mondstadt will try to hold the fort, live life as if the majority of their defenses and over a quarter of their population aren’t gone.
The whole of the city is decorated with wreaths. The Gunnhildr Clan members are all flushed with pride as Jean steps up to Grand Master Varka and Frederica Gunnhildr is called up from her seat of honor in the front aisle. As Frederica takes a badge from Varka and pins it to the lapel of Jean’s formal uniform and kisses her daughter’s forehead proudly. As Jean places a hand with perfectly shaped nails over her heart and swears an oath to put Mondstadt first, to protect its people and uphold its laws, to remain true to her duties as a citizen of the God of Anemo and as its Grand Master.
The whole city practically erupts in applause after her speech, trusting the distinguished Master Jean of House Gunnhildr to uphold her promise.
Then it’s Kaeya’s turn.
Jean takes her seat next to Kaeya, sending him a delighted smile. Kaeya takes a deep breath and stands, making his way to the podium that Varka stands behind. He reaches for the badge in Varka’s hand—
Varka turns back to the crowd, pulling the badge out of Kaeya’s reach.
“To present the badge of Cavalry Captain to Kaeya Alberich,” Varka begins, much to Kaeya’s confusion, “I call on his brother, Diluc Ragnvindr of House Ragnvindr.”
Kaeya can feel the shock slacken his jaw. He stares, unbelieving, at Varka for a few seconds, wondering if this is some sick joke— until he hears it.
The distinct click of boots on cobblestone. Diluc Ragnvindr, Master of the most honored family still within Barbatos’s grasp, stands up from his inconspicuous seat at the back of the crowd and walks towards the podium, accepting the badge that Varka hands him.
He steps closer to Kaeya, the sharp point of the pin exposed and for a second Kaeya wonders if Diluc will take his chances, “accidentally” prick him, or if he’ll fully commit to his anger and stab the sharp end through Kaeya’s good eye.
Instead, Diluc lifts his lapel and pins the badge in place, working deftly and tactfully despite his thick leather gloves. When he finishes, he smooths down Kaeya’s lapel and drags him into a tight, trembling hug that takes him a while to process before he reciprocates.
Diluc pulls away after a few moments, his fingers still clutching tightly onto Kaeya’s shoulders.
“Good job, Kaeya,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”
It’s the first time Kaeya has even heard his voice since Diluc returned from his long trip just a few months ago. They had exchanged brief letters, sure, but nothing could come close to the sound of his brother’s voice: older, deeper, more gravelly than he remembered, but still him nonetheless.
Kaeya takes a single, shuddering breath and pulls his brother close again.
Kaeya barely remembers the last time Diluc had held him like this. Maybe it was that fateful night over three years ago, when their father had been killed and they both needed comfort. Maybe it was long before that when they were both still teenagers—boys with grown men’s responsibilities. Children with the weight of the world on their shoulders.
Diluc lets out a breathy chuckle—Kaeya’s holding him tight enough that he can feel the movement of it in his own chest. Like a heartbeat.