Chapter Text
Prologue
Jean was her saviour.
Mona was gravely ill. Mind in despair and body exhausted, she collapsed. She fell endlessly, barely conscious. She was jerked around, limp, unable to breathe. She was embraced, head cradled, something tickling her cheeks. She felt all of these things simultaneously.
She came to in the church infirmary. A kindly Sister told her Jean Gunnhildr, Acting Grand Master of the Ordo Favonius, had delivered her there.
Up to this point, Mona's only encounter with Master Jean involved full-body ramming her into a fountain, an accident caused by Mona's reckless pursuit of discount almonds. This second encounter was, by comparison, an improvement – blessed with unconsciousness, she was unable to say or do anything stupid.
All that remained of Jean was the coat Mona woke up in. It was much too large for her frame. It was finer than anything she owned – heavy and warm, dark green trimmed in gold. The collar was lined with light grey fur that tickled her cheeks.
The Sister laid the coat over her blankets to keep her warm. A day or two passed, and the scent of cedar wood and pine – Jean's perfume, embedded in the fur – let Mona know her sense of smell had returned. After she was discharged, that scent would return again and again whenever her mind wandered.
The word saviour returned as well, no matter how Mona tried to rationalise it away. She'd merely been carried to the infirmary with a bad head cold. Surely saviour was a bit dramatic?
It refused to be dismissed, try as she might.
Three months later...
Chapter 1 - On the Mountain
Jean seemed implacable.
Every squeaky crunch of fresh snow sent convulsions up Mona’s spine, a rhythmic accent to her already constant shivering. Hard, whistling wind found every bare patch of skin and wore them raw. A mere few minutes trekking down Dragonspine and Mona was robbed of whatever warmth she'd absorbed from Albedo's camp. She was near-frozen.
It would have been borne, in weather less fierce. Mona would be seen chin up, eyes forward, each step a long, bold stride toward the future. Instead she stumbled, head tucked, shoulders hugging her ears. She clung to her cheap coat, attempting to trap the heat against her body as one would a squirming child.
Fool. One look at the price tag and she'd been ohhhhh so willing to swallow that tailor's nonsense. How could a twenty percent cashmere blend be 'almost as good' as pure cashmere?!
Her foot sunk into a snow-filled pothole and she teetered away from the mountain, towards the edge of the narrow path. She scowled, gathering herself. Focus. They were still surrounded by low cloud, solid ground not yet visible. She tried not to dwell on how far down that solid ground was, nor how far away by foot. Nor how warm it might be down there, compared to here. Nor the range of bathing facilities and soft beds she might find, taunting her from many sore footsteps and freezing hours away...
Sigh.
Alone, she might have summoned enough focus to dismiss her misery and get on with the trip. Unfortunately, the presence of her companion made her acutely aware of her own mild dishevelment alongside her misery.
Striding slightly ahead, Master Jean was deep in thought, seemingly unbothered by the cold. How Mona envied her constitution.
Jean strode easily through the snow, boots sinking ankle-deep. Fur-lined leather gloves, black woollen scarf, that long green coat – she cut such an easy figure, at home on this frozen death-mountain as if it were a field of grass and dandelions.
What was more, what was almost maddening, was how effortlessly she seemed to pull it off. Mona forever worked to hold herself with the same poise, but could only maintain it for short stretches before she found herself undercut by an empty purse or a grumbling stomach. By contrast, Jean was never less than a dashing knight of the realm, to Mona's eyes at least. Even during their ludicrous initial meeting she was chivalrous, extending a dripping-wet hand to assist as any good knight should.
Mona's eyes were drawn to the fur lining of Jean's coat. Cedar wood and pine flooded her senses, unbidden. Memories of falling, tickled cheeks and the word saviour rushed forth, permanently lodged somewhere in her mind.
The tip of Mona's nose was numb. What she would not give to bury it in Jean's collar-
"Lady Megistus?"
"NOTHING" Mona squeaked. Her eyes darted to Jean’s confusion. "I uh… sorry, I was just, um… lost in thought."
Jean smiled, and Mona felt warm for a moment. "Ah," she said. "I, as well. Albedo gave us a great deal to consider. You were wise to consult him."
Master Jean's eyes had turned back to the path ahead. This was for the best – Mona might have died of embarrassment if Jean saw how her simple words of praise made her eyes light up, her chest swell with pride.
In the few short months they'd spent together studying and rebuilding Decarabian's observatory, Mona's ego had blown up like a slime balloon. It could not be helped! Master Jean seemed determined to note every idea, every insight or application of skill Mona displayed and express her admiration for each in turn. The problem only compounded as time passed – each instance of praise from the Grand Master turned Mona into a giddy idiot who only worked harder to impress. Mona found herself trapped in a spiral of increasingly insufferable academic exhibitionism, and the Grand Master – patient and kind-hearted as she was – only accelerated Mona's descent with commendations and flattery.
But... it wasn't a huge deal, right? Why not appreciate the appreciation? It's not like the praise was unwarranted-
"His knowledge of the Decarabian Era was astonishingly comprehensive," Jean mused, dragging Mona out of her head. Jean let out a chuckle. "I did my best as the note-taker, but I fear I captured less than half of what he had to tell us."
"Well, this simply won't do! I shall not endure an apprentice who's pen cannot keep up with my mind." Mona moved alongside Jean, her nose regaining some of its usual elevation. She flashed Jean a blue-lipped grin. "I shall have to acquaint you with my short-hand techniques."
Archons, Jean brought out the worst in Mona. Again, it could not be helped – by some miracle Jean seemed endlessly amused by Mona's nonsense. Even now, before Mona could gather herself enough to cringe, Jean tittered away at Mona's reference to her 'apprenticeship' – an in-joke between them since the Traveller, Lumine, had traitorously let slip anecdotes of her own press-ganged apprenticeship under Mona.
Jean's eyes crinkled in the snowy grey light, glittering. "Your guidance would be most appreciated, Lady Megistus," she said, and Mona felt warm once again.
At some point, Jean also noted Fischl's habit of referring to Mona as 'Lady' Megistus and began to do the same. Amidst gracious apologies for an improper address, Mona found herself unable to correct Jean – Fischl's irritating affectation was surprisingly pleasant coming from the Grand Master.
"Still, it’s quite frustrating," Jean said as her smile shrank away. "I’ve found myself surprised by the breadth of Albedo’s knowledge several times now."
"Oh! Don't let that concern you," Mona proclaimed. "As a fellow genius, he and I have passed countless hours combining our intellects, unravelling the mysteries our world. Only a mind on a comparative level could fully comprehend the depth of his exper-"
"Countless hours passed..." Jean muttered, unintentionally cutting Mona off. Her brow was furrowed, lost in her own mind once more. "Our project is so vital, and I fear that... Barbatos, how much time have we lost whilst I allowed our greatest mind to sit idle..."
our greatest mind-
...
did she just-
.....
Mona appeared to have stopped walking. She heard a quiet, pathetic whine coming from somewhere.
Jean was pulling further away. The sun was disappearing. Mona felt cold.
...oh, she might have meant-
Albedo was a genius, a fact not in question. Mona knew that, it was why she'd consulted him in the first place, after she'd become a little stuck on the purpose of...
She was stuck. Oh Gods, she was stuck and she'd told Jean-
I think she meant the Knight's greatest mind, not-
Was Jean considering bringing Albedo onto the project permanently? He was a sworn knight, it would save Mora, not that Mona's fees were exorbitant by any stretch, certainly not, just a stipend for time, occasional meals, the odd expensive tome on principles of astrological architecture, which weren't really that expensive when you consider-
I really think she was talking about a category that doesn't include you-
Once Jean appointed Albedo the new project lead, Mona would probably be bumped down to a support team, one that reported to the Grand Master via written reports only, no need to see her in person, no need to waste her time with small talk or shared meals whilst describing the intricacies of observatory design, watching her eyes crinkle that way they did when she seemed particularly fascinated by Mona's knowledge, by Mona's skills, by Mona-
"HALT!"
Jean froze, turning back carefully. "Lady Megistus," she said, voice low. "What is it? What have you seen?"
"Nothing, as of yet." With a flourish, Mona summoned her scryglass. "Forgive me, I have been lax in my duties. Before we proceed further, allow me to apply my skills to ensure our safe passage down the mountain."
"Oh… thank you, but you needn't worry," Jean said, relaxing a little. "I know a safe way down from here-"
"Grand Master, please. I do not doubt your knowledge of Dragonspire, but the myriad hazards of the future are my area of expertise." Mona began adjusting the rings of her scryglass, observing the star-field before her. After all, grumbled a bruised, deflating ego, a leader should take advantage of every _great mind_ at her disposal, should she not?
Mona’s wounded musings were interrupted by a high-pitched grinding noise, followed by a light crunch. "Wh…"
In Teyvat, seers employ a range of colourful techniques to read the future. Everything from methods developed through centuries of study, endlessly refined to produce accurate readings, to those that merely dazzle an audience, an effective distraction from an 'all-seeing' swindler making their best guess.
Mona's favoured technique is Hydromancy. This involves reading the stars via their reflection in a body of water, such as the small disc Mona frequently summoned. The mirrored image allowed for a clearer, truer reading of fate, a virtue she frequently extolled to anyone who would listen.
The drawbacks of Hydromancy were less frequently discussed. Like any star reading it was somewhat weather-dependent, and the nature of the mirrored image could mislead an inexperienced practitioner.
However, Hydromancy's most basic flaw was its sensitivity to the environment in which it was practiced.
"Er…" Jean seemed unsure how to broach the topic. "...has your scryglass... frozen?"
It had. Frozen solid, with one dainty astrologist’s finger trapped within its rings.
"Uh…" Mona tugged at the ring. Her hand stuck fast, the ring unmoving. "One moment, it just needs a small adjustment…" With her free hand, Mona applied more hydro to the ring in an attempt to loosen it. The added water sprayed haphazardly and froze, further cementing her finger in place.
A quiet whine escaped Mona’s throat as her tugging became desperate. "Nooo, come on, just…" More hydro applied, more ice created.
Jean stepped forward. "Please, let me assist-"
"Oh just move, you cursed-" Her voice cracking, Mona applied a violent, focussed burst of hydro. The scryglass shattered into a fine mist, and an ill-timed gasp drew the majority of it through her mouth.
"Lady Megistus!" Jean cried, lurching forwards. Mona attempted to wave her off amidst hacking coughs. "No, don’t…" She felt ice crawl its way up her sinuses. The pressure in her head was blinding. "It’s… I’bm... heCHEW! hheeEEECHEEWW!"
To her horror, Mona felt her nose begin to run. Her eyes watered. A clog formed, rapidly, at the back of her throat. "Oh… oh d'ho…"
Frozen mist was one thing. Elementally-charged frozen mist was quite another. Capable of inflicting rapid, serious head colds, ingestion was to be avoided at all-
whump
Mona felt herself enveloped in warmth. Her line of sight was blocked. She peered upwards.
Jean was close. She had to be in order to wrap her cloak around Mona and secure it. She moved quickly, her expression determined and a little tense. "Here. Don't fret. You’ll be fine, but we must get you off the mountain as soon as possible."
"M-Master Jean, b'lease," Mona spluttered, her face burning. She was near enough to feel the heat radiating from Jean’s body. She focussed hard, desperate to avoid sneezing directly onto her nice shirt. "This is unn'gecessary. It’s just a cold, and you'll freeze to death-"
Jean shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "I’ll survive. I’m oath-sworn to care for those in peril, and I'd like to think all that cold weather endurance training wasn't a complete waste." She looked away, assessing their position. "There's a shortcut we can take. Can you walk? I can carry you if-"
"NG'O! I, ah, I m'bean yes, I... I'bm fine."
Mona's gaze dropped as she followed behind Jean, tugging the coat tighter around her shivering form. The fur lining tickled her cheeks, as it had months before.
How completely wretched. She couldn't smell a thing.