Work Text:
The infirmary wasn’t a place Jean frequented. After all, ever since Varka left on his expedition, Jean spent most of her time in her office. This was especially true after the outlander had shown up, always ready to help settle the affairs outside. More often than not, she was the one sending knights up here.
It was odd, sitting inside and waiting for the doctor to come back with painkillers and give her some final do’s and don’ts while recovering from her injury. She felt a little guilty, having to come here right when everyone was due to go home, but it couldn’t be helped. Once people had realized she was hurt, they dragged her here to get treated. And once she’d got here, the knights overreacted and put her arm in a cast for extra measure.
It wasn’t that she wouldn’t have gotten it treated if they’d left her alone, but all the knights knew she was stubborn. She probably would have acted as if everything was fine and worked through her injury until it was something she could no longer ignore. At most, she would have just asked her sister to take a look, which ultimately would have landed her in the infirmary anyway.
Jean sighed, thinking back on whether she could have avoided getting injured.
She’d been looking for Margaret’s little Prince before it happened. While it was a menial task that someone else could have handled, Jean liked handling it herself. It gave her a chance to step out of her office and assess the state of the city while tackling some of the knights’ tasks. Getting to play with a cute little cat was an added bonus.
It was taking a little longer than she expected. For some reason, Prince was hypersensitive today and ran away as soon as she came within two feet of him. She was determined, however, and finally managed to run him into a corner. With nowhere to run, Jean was able to slowly close in on him. She nearly had him when—
“Master Jean!”
The sharp cry startled the little critter and he scurried away once again. While she wanted to chase after him, she had a feeling it was something urgent. Sighing, she turned to see Huffman running towards her.
“What’s the problem?”
“Master Jean! Jeremy somehow got up on one of the windmills!” Huffman exclaimed, already leading the way. “We don’t know how he got up there. He’s holding onto one of the blades as we speak.”
Now aware of the situation, Jean moved even faster, breaking into a sprint once she was certain of which windmill this was occurring. It wasn’t long before she arrived, looking up at the child holding on for dear life. A crowd had formed around the area, concerned citizens watching the events unfold; however, they made way and cleared a large space upon seeing the Acting Grandmaster arrive.
As if sensing her presence, the child began to cry, begging for Jean to save him.
“Master Jean, I’m scared,” he cried.
“It’ll be alright, Jeremy,” Jean reassured him, her eyes scanning the area.
The blonde had barely enough time to look around and assess the situation before Jeremy’s hands started to slip. Within seconds, he was plummeting towards the ground. Jean rushed forward to catch him. All half-formed plans of getting him down safely were thrown out the window. It was all she could think of to stretch her arms out and dash to where he would land.
She was on the ground before she knew it. The weight in her arms told her that she had made it in time. She breathed a sigh of relief just as the boy began to cry, this time from relief.
The crowd moved in closer as Jean took a few moments to catch her breath. Soon, the boy’s parents came forward, carefully taking him from Jean’s arms. They thanked her profusely before checking his body for injuries. They both cried from relief and reprimanded him for doing something so dangerous.
Jean watched them, smiling at their display of familial affection. Brushing off Huffman’s offer to help her up, she braced her hands on the ground to support herself only to find herself toppling over.
“Master Jean!” Immediately, Huffman was by her side, quickly inspecting her for injuries.
“I’m alright,” she said, although her face was distorted in pain. Throbbing pain was coming from her right wrist. She looked down to find it swollen, the flesh slightly reddened. She frowned.
“You’re injured,” Huffman said. “You’ve sprained your wrist.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Jean was swept up in a hurricane of worry and concern. Some were voicing out their worry for her, saying that she should be taken to the hospital. Others were commenting on how unfortunate it was. She heard Jeremy wailing apologies as his parents apologized desperately.
Before she knew it, she was in the infirmary with her wrist snugly fit into a cast. She didn’t need one, but she couldn’t win against the insistence of the medical staff.
“Just to make sure you don’t try to overwork your wrist and make it worse,” the doctor had said.
Jean sighed. She supposed there wasn’t anything else she could have done differently. Maybe she could have angled herself better, but there was hardly enough time to consider such things. The important thing was that the child was safe.
A sprained wrist was just a minor inconvenience at most. She’d live.
Or so she thought.
When she entered her office the next morning, she was greeted by the sight of a dark-haired bard sitting on her desk. With his legs crossed over one another and cecilias clasped between his interlocked fingers, he looked around the room with wonder. When his eyes landed on her surprised features, he beamed.
He hopped off of the table and sprung right up to her, holding out the flowers with a slight bow.
“For you,” he said.
Jean looked down at the flowers. He had tied them up prettily with a white ribbon. They seemed to be freshly picked. She could almost smell the faint scent of moist grass and morning sun from the cliff he’d probably picked them from. Despite her surprise at the sudden visit, she found herself smiling.
“Thank you, Venti.”
Taking the flowers, she placed them down at the corner of her desk. She made a mental note to find a nice vase to put them in later. She took her seat, giving one last glance to the flowers before turning to meet Venti’s eyes.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” she asked.
“No,” Venti chirped, casually reclaiming his spot on her desk. “Rather, I’m here to help you .”
Jean blinked.
“Help me?”
“Surely, you weren’t thinking of working as you always have with that injury?” He looked down at her injured arm.
She followed his gaze, feeling embarrassed for some reason. “It’s not a major injury. I can still do my work just fine.”
“Come on, Master Jean,” he began to whine. He figured she wouldn’t accept his help so easily. “Can you even write with your dominant hand injured?”
“...”
“I promise I’ll only be helping you! I’ll handle anything that needs a working hand!” He shook his hand in front of her face to emphasize his point. “This way, you’ll still get everything done and allow yourself to recover properly.”
She said nothing, rather conflicted.
Getting no response, he looked at her with puppy-dog eyes.
Jean bit her lip. She’d always been weak to that face. When she thought about it, Venti was right. If she tried to do everything on her own, she could either worsen her condition or not get all her work done. Maybe even both. She didn’t want to take up much of the bard’s time, but he wouldn’t have offered if he didn’t want to help. She supposed she could pay him back later on.
“All right,” she said, “But I’ll be paying you for your work.”
“Oh no, no, no,” he immediately responded, shaking his head and clicking his tongue. “I want to do this, Jean.”
He looked at her with such earnestness that her protests died before they made it out of her mouth. Still, it didn’t feel right to have him work for free. She should at least—
“Just think about it as me repaying you for the times you’ve paid my tab at Angel’s Share.” It was as if he was reading her mind.
“How did you know about that?”
“You never exactly told Master Diluc it was a secret,” he grinned, “He’s always been telling me off for allowing you to pick up my tab after I’ve passed out.”
Jean looked away. She never thought he would find out about that. In fact, she didn’t think anyone but Diluc knew. Desperate to change the topic and forget her embarrassment, she moved to start working. She tried to pull open one of her drawers only to be stopped by sharp pain. She hissed, immediately retracting her hand
Venti was by her side almost instantly, his delicate fingers gently hovering over her the cast on her injured wrist. With his head bowed, Jean couldn’t see his expression, but she could imagine the concern in expression. As he blew cool breaths onto her wrist (though, she could only feel them on her fingers), she felt her face flush slightly. She wasn’t accustomed to being on the receiving end of such acts, not to mention that it was her revered archon that was tending to her. She felt guilty for making him worry.
“Apologies,” she said, “I forgot about my injury for a moment.”
Venti didn’t respond right away, focused on easing her pain. Only when he was sure the pain had gone away did he respond, returning Jean’s gaze. The tenderness in his eyes were as clear as the blue of his eyes. It made her feel shy, so she instinctively looked away.
"It's alright," Venti said, hopping back up to his feet.
"Just sit back and let me do the work."
Working with Venti was easier than Jean expected. Despite his usual carefree demeanor, Venti was extremely diligent. Soon after they started, they settled into a routine. It made Jean feel a bit restless getting work done without doing much of anything, so she let Venti take the chair while she watched from over his shoulder. She would tell Venti what to do, he would do as instructed, and they’d move onto the next thing. Occasionally, Venti would ask for some clarification or Jean would make a correction.
“Just put my stamp on that one and file it in the bottom right drawer,” Jean instructed. A beat later, the paper was stamped and being put away into its proper place.
Jean wasted no time in reaching for the next sheet of paper, only to be stopped by a delicate hand. She looked down at Venti, puzzled. He only smiled up at her.
“My dear knight, I’m getting a little hungry,” he said. “Why don’t you join me for some lunch?”
“Oh.”
Venti waited patiently as her brain slowly switched out of work mode.
She glanced at the clock. It was well past one in the afternoon. They’ve been working for over five hours straight. Her cheeks flushed in guilt. How could she have kept her archon working like a dog without a break?
“Right, of course,” she stammered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize we’ve been working for so long already. By all means, go have lunch!”
“Aren’t you going to join me?” He smiled expectantly.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jean shook her head, “I should stay here and try to get some more work done while you’re gone. We’ve done a lot, but there’s still so much to do.”
At that, Venti clicked his tongue, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “Come on, Miss Dandelion Knight,” he pleaded, “We’ve already done so much. At the pace we’ve been going at, we’ll probably be done in another few hours! Besides, you need to eat to get better sooner. A little time away to have some lunch wouldn’t hurt, would it?”
Biting her lip, Jean looked at the stack of papers on her desk. The tall stacks of paperwork that they had started with that morning was now reduced to about half of its initial size. Venti was right: they would finish in another few hours-- much earlier than she was used to.
“No,” she relented, “It wouldn’t.”
At that, Venti cheered. He hopped up to his feet and gave her a toothy grin, whisking her away before she could change her mind.
“I promise we’ll get back to work as soon as we get back.”
Within a few minutes, Jean found herself seated outside of The Good Hunter. She watched as Venti placed an order in with Sara, making some cheerful small talk in the process. She noticed children throwing coins into the fountain at the center of the square, squeezing their eyes shut as they made wishes. She saw a customer attempting to haggle with Blanche at Mondstadt General Goods, and a small group of tourists crowding around Marjorie as she pitched her shop’s products. It brought a smile to her face seeing the city so lively.
“Having fun?” Venti quipped, seating himself directly across her. She glanced at him, the smile not leaving her lips.
“Yes,” she responded, “I don’t get to see the city this lively very often.”
“A clear indication that you need to step out of your little office more often.”
“Well, it’s not often I have the free time to do so.”
“My dear Jean,” he said tenderly, watching as she observed the city, “Sometimes, you just have to make time.”
Jean hummed in response. As simple of a solution as it sounded, he was right. Even though she always used work as a reason to stay in her office, she could always make time to see the city if she truly wanted to. As the saying goes, when there’s a will, there’s a way.
She smiled. “I suppose you’re right.”
By the time they returned to the office, nearly an hour had passed. It surprised Jean that they were only gone an hour. With how much fun she had conversing with Venti and watching the citizens go about their day, it felt like they’d spent an entire afternoon outside.
As promised, the bard settled back into the office chair as soon as he’d closed the door behind Jean.
From where she was standing, it felt odd to see him at her desk, his face contorted in concentration as he skimmed through some papers. It was such a stark contrast to the carefree bard she’d spent the last hour with. Frankly, it didn’t suit him. He looked like a child trying to imitate their parents at work. Only, Jean knew that he was in fact taking this very seriously. Knowing that he was doing this for her brought a smile to her face.
“Hey, Jean? What should I write for this one?”
Venti’s question snapped her out of her trance and she realized that she was still standing by the door. And that she’d been staring. If Venti noticed, he didn’t show it, which Jean was thankful for. It allowed her to act as if she hadn’t just spaced out, watching him do her work. Hurriedly, she moved to reclaim her spot beside him and looked over the document in question.
“Ah, I need to talk to Kaeya about this one. We can put that one aside for now.”
Just like that, they settled back into their easy rhythm, the rest of the day passing by in the blink of an eye. When the final paper was filed away, it was just past six. Jean couldn’t remember the last time she’d finished work the same time that the other knights usually clocked out. It was such an unfamiliar feeling, seeing her desk empty while the sun was just beginning to set. She couldn’t help staring at the novel view.
“See? Told you we’d finish on time!” Venti laughed, seeing her dumbfounded expression as she stared at her desk. He pushed himself away from the desk, the wheels of the chair squeaking as they rolled across the floor. He hopped up to his feet so he could stretch. Jean’s eyes shifted to watch him. He looked so much like a cat, stretching the kinks out of its body after waking up from a nap. She cracked a smile at that.
Once Venti was satisfied, he turned to Jean, a smug expression on his face. Normally, Jean would have rolled her eyes and brushed it off, but instead she looked at him with a soft expression. It caught Venti off guard, and he was left speechless, waiting for her to break the silence.
“Thank you, Venti. I mean it.”
It wasn’t uncommon for the Acting Grandmaster to show her appreciation to others, but somehow this time left the bard at a loss for words. It took him a few moments to collect himself and come up with a response.
“Don’t mention it.”
He averted his gaze, pretending to be busy getting ready to head home.
The following two weeks seemed to pass by as fast as it takes the breeze to blow the delicate seeds off of a dandelion. Each day, Jean would come in to find Venti at her desk. Sometimes, he would already be working, sorting out the paperwork based on urgency. He would remind her when it was time for lunch, where they would spend about an hour out in the city, chatting as they enjoyed their meals. When they returned, they would finish up the rest of their work and leave with the rest of the knights.
In all honesty, despite her arm being injured, Jean had been feeling better than she ever has. Even though she’s been doing the same work she always has, with Venti’s assistance, she didn’t feel as drained as she usually did. The other knights have even started to joke about appointing the little bard as another honorary knight, with how much of a positive influence he is on her.
As much as Jean told them off for such an embarrassing joke, she found that she wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea. In fact, she almost wished he would continue to come. However, Venti had said that he was only here to help her while she couldn’t use her hand. As much as she would like him to stay, once her cast was off, he wouldn’t have any reason to stick around. He would probably go back to wandering around the city, singing grand tales to each passerby until he earned enough for a glass of dandelion wine at Angel’s Share. The thought of coming back to a quiet, empty office left a pit in her stomach that deepened the closer she got to a full recovery.
The morning after her cast had been taken off, Jean entered her office with a heavy heart. She expected to see her office empty and her desk piled high with paperwork she now had to do by herself, but she was surprised to find Venti sitting on her desk with cecilias in hand. Just like the first day he offered his help, he perked up upon seeing her and hopped off the table, brandishing the flowers with a slight bow.
“For you, my dear knight.”
Wordlessly, Jean took the little bouquet. She stared at him with wide eyes, her surprise evident in her experession. Venti smiled up at her with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Congrats on your full recovery, my dear knight!”
“Thank you,” she managed to say. “Um, why are you here…?”
“What do you mean? I’m here to help!” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You weren’t expecting to get rid of me already, were you?”
Stunned as she was, Jean couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips. Of course he would still be here. This was Venti she was dealing with. She felt silly for having thought he would leave as soon as she recovered.
“Happy to see me, are you?” the bard teased, although his eyes were full of affection seeing her laugh so freely.
“Yes,” she looked at him, her expression fond, “I am.”
Perhaps it was the way Venti made sure she ate her meals on time. Or the way he casually lured her away from work to take a break before she even realized she was taking one. Or the way he made sure she got out of the office and got home at a reasonable time. Or even just the fact that his mere presence brought her comfort.
Whatever it was, she was sure that she liked having Venti around.