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Here to Hold You

Summary:

The people of Khaenri’ah could only dream of dreaming. One night, Kaeya asks why.

OR: Kaeya asks Dainsleif what it’s like to dream.

*From an upcoming AU of mine where the Tsaritsa rescues Kaeya during the Cataclysm and adopts him.

Notes:

Hello and welcome to the fic! As written in the summary, this is a one shot from an AU of mine where the Tsaritsa rescues Kaeya during the Cataclysm and adopts him in the present day. This part mostly takes place in Khaenri’ah though.

Some naming notes:
Flauros - The Tsaritsa’s archon name (headcanon)
(King) Irimin - The canonical last king of Khaenri’ah and as such, Kaeya’s birth father.

Enjoy the fic!!:D

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“What is it like to dream?”

Dainsleif stared at the little blue-haired boy peeking up at him from his place on the large extended couch he kept under the window of his office.

“I thought you were asleep,” he whispered, gesturing to the blond boy sleeping next to Kaeya under a blanket. “Albedo’s already long gone and he needs much less rest than you do.”

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kaeya said blearily, rubbing his eyes with a small fist. Dainsleif opened his arms and Kaeya crawled into them, laying his head on the man’s chest and sighing as he rubbed soothing circles on his back.

“Where’d that question come from anyway?” Dainsleif asked softly.

“Overhead you and mom talking about it earlier,” Kaeya said, voice muffled by the fabric of the older man’s coat.

“Eavesdropping is wrong, Kae.”

“You do it for Father all the time.”

“That’s because I’m a soldier and a spy. It’s my job. You’re still a baby.”

“M’not a baby,” Kaeya pouted. “And stop avoiding the question.”

“I’m not avoiding anything,” Dain grumbled before leaning back in thought. “I wouldn’t know what it’s like to dream since I’ve never done it myself. I don’t think anyone around here has, really.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. To my knowledge, the people of Khaenri’ah have never dreamed.” He turned to the boy on his chest. “You should ask your mother. She’s from Teyvat, so she’s probably dreamed before.”

“She’s asleep already,” Kaeya whined. He readjusted his position. “Did she ever tell you about it?”

“A couple times,” Dainsleif replied. “I rarely ask though.” He thought for a moment. “She said it’s like seeing pictures and stories in your mind as you sleep. Do you remember the plays you and Albedo like to watch in the marketplace?”

“Yeah,” Kaeya replied, yawning.

“I think it’s like that. She said dreams can be about anything from your favorite stories to things you want to do later on. Your mom used to tell me about her dreams of traveling to a far off land, trying new foods, and meeting someone she loved.”

“Like Father?”

Dainsleif paused his movements on the boy’s back. He wished with his whole heart that he could say yes. But after healing his mother’s wounds when her husband’s temper rose out of control and providing Kaeya with solace after his father ripped his hopes apart with harsh words, could he really bring himself to say so? Dainsleif glanced down and saw Kaeya looking up at him with all the hope in the world stored in his big blue eyes. Eyes he desperately prayed would never go dark with sorrow or regret. Smiling softly, he shifted the boy on his lap.

“I’d like to think so,” he replied. “Although I think she means more like you.”

Kaeya mumbled something incoherent and turned his head back towards the couch. He watched the steady rise and fall of his friend’s chest as he slept.

“I don’t like him,” Kaeya said quietly, but Dainsleif’s sharp ears still picked it up. “I wish he wasn’t here. Then Mommy wouldn’t hurt anymore and it would just be you, me, her, and Albedo every day.”

For the first time in a while, Dainsleif was at a loss for words. Both he and Kaeya’s mother had done their best to shield Kaeya from his family’s issues so he would be left with some semblance of a good image of his father - or at the very least, have happy memories of his family to look back on when he grew up. But the boy had always been too observant for his own good. It will serve him well later, Dain thought.

Dainsleif pondered for a moment before wrapping his arms tightly around the child. Kaeya buried his face in the older man’s neck.

“I can’t promise that will happen,” Dainsleif said, softly. “But no matter what happens, I’ll always be right by your side when you need me. Remember that, okay Kaeya?” Kaeya nodded sluggishly and yawned into Dainsleif’s chest. Smiling to himself, the man lifted the now-sleeping child up from his lap and tucked him in next to Albedo on the couch. It wasn’t the first time the two had spent the night in his office. After the third time he found them asleep in a pile of blankets and books on the floor, he invested in the couch so they’d have a half decent place to rest when they got tired of playing.

Once he finished, Dainsleif quietly went back to his desk and scribbled a short message to Rhinedottr informing her of Albedo’s whereabouts. He’d never really liked the alchemist or her practices, but she still deserved to know where her son was — assuming she even considered him as such. He called a messenger and sent him to her lab with the note. She was probably still awake tinkering away at her projects anyway.

Dainsleif settled back into his chair and idly watched the two children sleeping peacefully on the cushions. The thought of packing his things and running to Teyvat with Kaeya’s mother and the children had crossed his mind on more than one occasion. A lifetime of Khaenri’an social conditioning had harbored in him a deep rooted mistrust for the archons that ruled those lands, and it was unlikely they would look kindly on immigrants from the land without one anyway. But it would allow both of them to experience life without the pain the King constantly put them through. Truthfully, the only thing keeping him bound to the palace was the Queen’s wish told to him in confidence: that Kaeya grow to know and love his people.

He hated with every broken part of him that Kaeya had to endure the pain of grasping for love from a father that didn’t love him back the way he so desperately needed to be loved. And he equally hated that his dearest friend from childhood was forced to persevere under her husband’s tyranny to give her son the life she so desperately wanted for him. He deserves more than this, he thought. They both do.

He only hoped that when the time came to claim their freedom, if it ever did, he would be there in time to protect them.

_____________________

The burn of bright lights behind his eyelids forced Kaeya out of his slumber. Grumbling with discontent at being woken up, the fourteen-year-old slowly dragged himself from the softness of the bay window cushions and rubbed the last bits of sleep from his eyes. He pulled his hand from his face in surprise. Wet tears coated the back of his hands and continued to flow freely down his cheeks. What was I thinking about, he wondered. I could have sworn it was something important but…I can’t recall anything. After blinking to adjust to the bright light, he attempted to reorient himself.

The rounded wall of bookshelves and layers of frost in the corners told him that this was Flaurous’ outdoor study. Old books, quill pens, and yellowed maps laid scattered over the table and chairs in the center of the room. One of them was propped open across his lap and was slowly sliding to the ground. He must have been reading before he fell asleep, he concluded. Kaeya caught the book before it fell and closed it, placing it on the shelf behind him.

Cold air blew through the cracked open door and screen windows of the pavilion, adding silvery bits of snow to the accumulating pile on the ground making the air shimmer with refracted light. It is a bit strange that none of the staff have come to clean it out, he thought. But I suppose none of them wished to bother me while I was sleeping.

Kaeya turned his head towards the cold windowpane and found the root of his troubles — dozens of string lights wrapped around a tall tree right next to the bay window where he was sleeping. He remembered now. It was Snow Festival season at Zapolarny palace. Kaeya watched through the window in idle amusement as courtiers and hired workers flitted between rooms and across the snowy courtyard with arms full of decorations and ornaments to adorn the walls. Soon, every inch of the grounds would be covered in lights and silvery garlands to celebrate the coming of the holidays.

A loud bang followed by a chorus of Schneznyan swears broke him out of his contemplation. Kaeya whipped his head around to see a pile of ginger hair and red fabric haul itself off the ground of the now open doorway. Out of all the people who worked under the Tsaritsa, Ajax was the only one with the bravery — or perhaps simple recklessness — to approach him casually despite his title as Prince. Kaeya didn’t mind, though. It was nice to have a friend his age, even if he was a complete idiot on multiple occasions.

“There you are! I was looking everywhere for you!” Ajax said exitedly. “They’re putting lights up on the Wish Board in the square. We should go watch.” He grinned, forehead tinged red from his fall.

Kaeya perked up and scooted off of the window seat. “Wish Board?”

“Oh yeah, I guess you haven’t been in the square much, have you.” Kaeya shook his head, accepting the thick scarf his friend held out to him — light blue with darker fringe. The two left the pavilion and began trudging through the snow towards the palace exit. Ajax waved his hands wildly as he spoke.

“It’s this massive board in the middle of the city. Everyone write their hopes and dreams on slips and tapestries and pastes them on to bring good luck in the new year!”

Kaeya stopped dead in his tracks. Ajax continued rambling as his voice faded into the background. Dreams, he realized in shock. That’s what I was thinking about. I can’t believe I still remember that.

Memories of his early childhood in Khaenri’ah came flooding back to him all at once: the days spent with Albedo, shirking their duties in the palace and exploring the markets, the nights they fell asleep on top of each other reading books on the carpet of Dainsleif’s study, and the sensation of the man picking him and tucking him in on that familiar fold out couch, more comfortable than any finery the stuffy council officials could ever provide.

He had dreamt of all of that. Real dreams that his people could only hope to have — and would never be able to have now that their lives had been taken from them. He only wished that his family was there to experience them with him.

He missed them. His mother, Dainsleif, and Albedo, he missed them more than words could ever describe.

“Kaeya?” Ajax asked, voice laced with concern. Kaeya blinked. Shaking himself out of his melancholy, he looked at his friend’s worried face and smiled.

“It’s nothing. Let’s head to the square.”

Ajax perked back up and grabbed his friend's wrist to drag him through the palace gates. As the two ran laughing through the dark, snowy landscape towards the glowing city, Kaeya promised himself that one day, when he was older and braver, he would tell Ajax the truth about himself and his homeland.

Until then, he would enjoy the festival and let his dreams for his people wisk out into the falling snow.

Notes:

Lolz Kaeya has the sads

There’s a reason why his memory is so dodgy but that will be revealed in the longfic that will follow this one:)

Feel free to share any headcanons you have or use mine! Just please don’t take credit for them. Other than that go crazy.

Kudos and comments are appreciated. Tysm for reading!!:-DD