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1
It starts out with a simple question: “Do you know Chlothar?”
Lumine stares at Kaeya expectantly, her ale sitting in front of her, untouched. Despite how casually she asks the question, she’s on high alert, her eyes never leaving Kaeya’s, her muscular arms tense. Though she doesn’t clarify beyond that, the question clearly means a lot to her.
Hovering beside her, Paimon nods emphatically. She crosses her arms, smug and proud as usual. “And don’t think you can dodge the question.”
While Diluc notices all of that—he’s long trained himself to notice the most minute details—he’s not looking at either of them. No, he’s staring at Kaeya too, out of the corner of his eye, his hands slow as he pretends to busy himself with cleaning glasses. There’s always something to do in Angel’s Share and it’s only sheer luck the door hasn’t opened since Lumine asked her question.
Kaeya doesn’t flinch; he’s never responded as openly as that. Not since they were children, innocent to the ways of the world and the truths of their relationship. Instead, he stiffens ever so slightly—his shoulders a little square, his jaw a little tight.
Then, just as quickly, he relaxes, breaking into a broad smile. “My, is that the reason you wanted to have drinks? And here I thought you wanted my company.”
“Can’t it be both?” Lumine counters.
“That sounds like you’re trying to use me,” Kaeya replies with a disappointed sigh. His fingers curl around his mug and he shakes his head. “That’s a little underhanded of you.”
“We’re not using you, it’s just a—” Paimon waves her hands in front of her, panicking as she denies the charge. Cutting herself off as she realizes the ploy, she stamps the air indignantly. “Hey! You’re trying to weasel your way out of it!”
“And now you accuse me of being a weasel,” Kaeya continues, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.
“I am not!” Paimon snaps, her tiny fists shaking with each word. Perhaps Diluc should pity her; it was all too easy to distract her.
“It’s nothing like that,” Lumine finally says, deescalating the situation. She picks up her drink and takes a sip as she carefully considers her wording. “It’s just…do you know of him?”
Kaeya takes a sip of his own, a delaying tactic Diluc is used to. His eyes meet Diluc’s as he asks, “Why do you think I do?”
“His name is Chlothar Alberich,” Lumine replies. “A former Khaenri’ahian.”
A strange, unfamiliar emotion crosses Kaeya’s face before he becomes guarded once more. He breaks eye contact with Diluc as he answers, “I’m afraid not. A distant cousin, perhaps?”
Then the door opens with a chime and Diluc can’t hear any more of the conversation over Venti begging for a single glass of wine.
2
“Another round,” Kaeya orders, making a circle with his finger as he gestures to the entire room.
At the bar, Venti cheers, happy for a free drink at last. By now his tab is comical in length and though Diluc would rather die than say it aloud, he doubts the careless bard will ever pay back his dues. Lumine rubs her forehead, her gaze unfocused, and Paimon’s already slumped over on the table.
A distraction. Diluc’s seen it often enough.
“It’s closing time,” he replies instead, ignoring the boos (especially Venti’s, maybe he should go personally tomorrow to collect the drunkard’s debt). In short order, he kicks everyone out and gets someone to help guide Lumine to the inn.
Only Kaeya remains, nursing his ale with amusement as he watches Diluc drag a sulking Venti out of the bar.
“You shouldn’t have promised him that,” Diluc warns, shoving the door close before the bard can return. “He’s going to pester you tomorrow.”
“I’m counting on it,” Kaeya replies with an enigmatic grin. “It just so happens I have some work for him.”
Another scheme then. Diluc sighs. He stops in front of Kaeya and looks down, studying the man he once knew so well and now not at all.
Or, worse, the man he had never known, but those are not thoughts Diluc likes to entertain for long.
Especially not when he’s trying to find his footing in their relationship once more.
“You didn’t have to get rid of her like that,” Diluc says, holding out his hand.
Kaeya glances up. His eyes are still guarded, still thinking, and for all the steps forward they’ve taken, his past is a bridge they’ve yet to cross. After a moment’s silence, he smiles as he lets Diluc pull him up. “Was it that obvious?”
“For you, yes.” Diluc purses his lips. “Was her question that hard?”
And there it is again, that unreadable expression, that fleeting emotion. Kaeya’s mask is back up as he shrugs. “Well, I can’t just tell her I don’t really know anything—it’s embarrassing. And ruins my man of mystery aura.”
Diluc’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t push. Kaeya won’t tell him regardless and he’s never been one to ask. Their relationship is fragile enough as it is right now, this tentative peace only a misstep away from shattering. Trust is easy to break, harder to fix, and there are some lines that become walls in the aftermath.
Kaeya leans forward, his lips brushing Diluc’s neck as he purrs. “Don’t you agree?”
Another distraction but Diluc allows it this time.
3
A simple question has a simple solution, and Diluc’s is this: investigate Khaenri’ah himself. Between Lumine’s letters and Paimon’s idle chattering, he’s more or less kept abreast of her latest findings. Enough to know, at least, that there is more than meets the eye with Mondstadt’s ruins.
But not enough to know who Chlothar is.
(And not enough to know what Kaeya knows, to know what that fleeting expression is, to know just why his eyes go distant whenever his homeland is brought up.
There are lines and there are barriers and there are some rules that go unspoken.)
Diluc scowls as he crouches behind a boulder. There are scant places in Mondstadt that still retain traces of Khaenri’ah’s influence and the Spiral Abyss is one of them. However, to get there you have to cross through three hilichurl villages. It’s an annoying task on the best of days, downright dangerous on the worst.
Today’s shaping up to be one of the worse days. Diluc peeks around the boulder. Three hilichurls examine a nearby tree for sunsettias. Several more lounge about nearby. He can take them down one by one, but that’ll take more time than he has.
The long route it is.
The path through the Dadaupa Gorge is hidden in shadows half the day, winding through a valley between two towering cliff sides. Coarse bushes and slender trees hug the rocky walls, providing just enough cover for him to slip through undetected. As long as he doesn’t step on a branch—
There’s a chill in the air. Diluc senses this first, then the presence behind him. His hand rests on his hilt as he fakes a step forward before immediately pivoting, drawing his sword as he whirls around to face his enemy.
“Need to get something off your chest?” Kaeya asks, grinning as he holds his hands up. The blade’s point is just centimeters from his nose. He taps it with a finger, pushing it down. “Maybe over some wine?”
Diluc clicks his tongue and sheathes his weapon. “You should know better than to sneak up on me.”
“I do, but where’s the fun in that?” Kaeya replies with a teasing lilt, his smile not dropping for an instant.
“Safety,” Diluc answers promptly, his scowl deepening. At times like this, he wonders if they would have split up even without Khaenri’ah’s shadow looming over them, if that rainy night had just exposed other, deeper fissures.
“And where’s the fun in that?” Kaeya repeats as he saunters over. He peeks around the cliffside, at the hilichurls patrolling the path. “They’re very diligent.” Glancing back at Diluc, he raises a brow. “So, what brings you out here?”
There’s no way he can admit the truth. “…An investigation,” he lies.
The way Kaeya looks at him, it’s like he sees right through him. His smile turns fox-like. “Fancy that, I’m doing one too. Whereabouts?”
Another thing that Diluc can’t say. “The Sword Cemetery.” At least it isn’t a complete lie; he has to cross through it anyway.
“Even better!” Kaeya hums approvingly as he loops an arm around Diluc’s. “I’m heading there myself. And the hilichurls are out in big numbers today.” He pauses, giving the pretence of thought before suggesting, “It’d be safer if we went together.”
Diluc snorts. “Jean would be surprised to hear you say that.”
“She’d just be happy that her speeches finally worked,” Kaeya corrects, having a rebuttal to everything as usual. “She’d be happier if they worked on you too.”
She’d be happier still if they’d both just officially make up, but as much as their relationship has changed the past few months, Diluc isn’t entirely ready to put old ghosts to bed just yet. Still, it’s not like he can just shake off Kaeya—if anything, that’d just make him more suspicious. He grunts, “Fine.”
4
It’s been a while since they last worked together. A while since Diluc’s worked with anyone in the first place. By habit, he weaves in and out of nooks and crannies with no regard to Kaeya, inching his way around the various hilichurl camps embedded in the gorge.
Despite this, Kaeya keeps up, his lithe figure tracing Diluc’s movements like a second shadow. As they crouch behind some bushes, waiting for a patrolling mitachurl to pass, he whispers, “I’m surprised you have time for this. Don’t you have some wines to make for the Windblume festival?”
He does. It’s always busy on the estate, but more so in this season than any other. Diluc waits till the mitachurl disappears into the distance before replying, “Elzer has his instructions.”
“He’s good.” Kaeya nods approvingly at the familiar name before a teasing lilt colours his voice. “But I’m surprised a perfectionist like you isn’t overseeing the whole process.”
It rankles him that Kaeya knows him this well, that Diluc can’t say the same for him. “…Some things are more important. Don’t you also have work to do?”
Kaeya waves dismissively as he follows Diluc through the woods, skirting the next hilichurl village. “All I have left is paperwork.”
Suddenly, he has an inkling as to why Kaeya’s here instead of back in headquarters.
Catching Diluc’s disappointed look, Kaeya lightly defends himself. “Don’t worry, Jean won’t be doing it. Lisa would kill me if she misses Windblume again.”
While he’d learned plenty about Monstadt’s comings and goings through the drunkards at Angel’s Share, Diluc can’t say he’s entirely up to date on his former friends. “Again?”
“You know her, a workaholic to the bone.” Kaeya pauses, studying Diluc. He sighs. “Well, I guess that’s something you two share. I’ve convinced Albedo to keep an eye on Klee this time, so Lisa won’t have my head.”
Diluc grunts. He’s seen the explosions Klee’s left behind. He can only imagine the cleanup.
They both fall silent as they creep past the village’s fences, taking quick, small steps. Diluc’s heard that there are remnants of Khaenri’ah in these villages—in the strange symbols that decorate the fences, in the odd chants the hilichurls sing, in the odd ceremonies held by these ‘monsters’. If any of it is true, Kaeya doesn’t confirm it, his gaze sliding past everything as he leads the way through the village.
“Think Lumine came back from the festival?” Kaeya asks when they’re back in the woods. “Feels like the only we see her these days is when there’s an event.”
“…It is,” he agrees. There’s a cliff nearby, high enough that they can see straight back to the city proper. Diluc pauses as he catches his breath. The Windblume decorations are already set up, the city looking slightly brighter even from all the way out here.
When Kaeya doesn’t say anything, he turns to find him staring at the city with a complicated look.
Belatedly, he realizes that Kaeya had mentioned what everyone would be doing but himself.
5
Diluc leans against an ancient monument, taking a minute to catch his breath. The stone is cool to the touch, as cool as the eerie blue light it emits. While Lumine’s claimed to use them, to Diluc these stone statues are just mysterious reminders of a time long gone, their purpose long-lost.
“Do you think he’s still alive?” Kaeya asks, sitting down next to the Statue of Seven, a knee bent, the other flat on the ground. He takes a deep breath, calming himself.
Tilting his head, Diluc studies the shrouded figure. A cloak blocks out any recognizable feature yet…there’s something familiar about this figure. Impossible as it is—Barbatos hasn’t been seen in centuries. “Yes.”
“Oh?” Kaeya raises a brow. “And here I thought you believed he’s dead.”
“There would have been a new one if that’d happened,” Diluc replies as he pushes his sweaty bangs back. “Like with the Dendro Archon.”
Kaeya shrugs. “Fair enough.”
“And…”
“And?” He quirks a brow.
Diluc doesn’t want to finish his thought. It isn’t just that it sounded ludicrous—Venti? The broke drunkard an Archon? Between Lumine’s stories and Venti’s unusual connections, it isn’t hard to see the subtle hints they’ve dropped. If it were anyone else, he would have accepted it. Yet with Venti, he has the niggling suspicion that the second he acknowledges it, the bard will try to drink him out of lock, stock, and barrel.
Some things are better left unspoken.
“What about you?” he asks, changing the topic.
“Me?” Kaeya leans back and stares up, his eye fixed on the hooded figure. Whatever he sees, he doesn’t like, his lips a straight line, his eye half-closed. “Does it matter? It doesn’t change anything in the end.”
6
“The Sword Cemetery.” Kaeya whistles as they carefully cross the shallow water. On a small, grassy mound, several swords stab the dirt, lost to time and memory alike. Rust corrupts the metal, the ravaging red like blood on the blades. He leans down, examining them. “I wonder how long before they disappear.”
“Not for a while.” From what Diluc’s learned, these swords have been here for five hundred years at least. They might last five hundred more. It’s the clashing of Khaenri’ah and Mondstadt, a vestige of a tale long lost.
“Well, I suppose that makes it a fitting tribute to the fallen.” Kaeya taps a hilt. “Good workmanship. Think I can get something similar made?”
“…Why?”
Kaeya shrugs. “It’s a good design.” He stands up, leaning back as he studies the giant tree trunks crossing above him. “I wonder how long it took them to get that to stay up.”
Diluc frowns as he watches Kaeya from the corner of his eye, but just like with the hilichurls, just like with Windblume, just like with the Statue of Seven, he doesn’t seem to care about the history in front of him. As though it has nothing to do with him.
As though there’s a sheet of ice separating him from it all.
“Or if that happened—”
There are boundaries and there are lines and sometimes you have to step across them regardless of what will happen. “Who is Chlothar?”
Kaeya stills. “So you heard.”
He doesn’t sound surprised.
“Yes.” Diluc crosses his arms and stares at him. “Who is he?”
“I don’t know,” Kaeya lies as easy as breathing, still looking up at the tree trunks. Still dodging the question, even now.
Diluc’s tired of it. He’s survived their relationship breaking once. He can do it again. “You can lie to her but not to me.”
There’s a pregnant pause. “I suppose not.” Reluctantly, Kaeya tears his eye away, meeting Diluc’s. His expression is cloudy, the whiteout of a winter storm. “He’s an ancestor, I’ve been told. Distant.”
There’s probably more, but that is a truth. Just not the truth of the matter. The shadow lingers in his lopsided smile and Diluc’s frown grows deeper. “Then what is it?”
“What is what?” Kaeya raises a brow.
“You could have told her that.” Diluc takes a step forward. “Why didn’t you?”
“I told you,” Kaeya says, his grin not meeting his eye. “It’s more fun to be a man of mystery.”
“Kaeya,” Diluc warns, marching forward.
Kaeya exhales heavily, a hand on his hip as he shakes his head. “Has anyone ever told you you’re annoying?”
“Kaeya,” Diluc growls.
Before he can grab Kaeya’s collar, there’s a thundering roar, the sound of several mitachurls noticing them. They both turn as a hoard of hilichurls pour down the craggy paths.
7
Diluc groans as he lies on the mound, feeling every rock and bump beneath him. He’s fought his fair share of hilichurls before but three separate clans are overwhelming, even for him. Exhausted, he can barely turn his head to look at a similarly worn Kaeya lying next to him.
“Weren’t we supposed to avoid the hilichurls?” Kaeya wheezed, a hand on his chest as he tried to regain his breath.
Diluc closes his eyes. “…We tried.”
“We should have tried harder.” Kaeya groans as he tries to get up and gives up, flopping back on the ground. “I’m not sure if we can get back.”
Breathing in through his nose, Diluc holds his breath for a few seconds before releasing it slowly. The danger is gone. The hilichurls are defeated. The only thing left is the reason he’s here in the first place. Ignoring the bone-deep aches and bruises, he forces his body to roll to his side so he can stare at Kaeya. “So.”
It’s not a question, it’s barely a sentence, but Kaeya’s always been a quick study. He scowls. “You’re really stubborn.”
Diluc snorts. “So are you.”
“I have to be, dealing with you.” Kaeya sighs, covering his eye with the back of a hand. His voice is soft. “I don’t know.”
When he doesn’t clarify, Diluc prods. “You don’t know?”
“Chlothar. Khaenri’ah.” Kaeya gives a self-depreciative laugh. It’s low and rough and Diluc hates the sound. “I don’t really know much about it. He…my…father, he never told me much. Everything I ever learned was through letters. Secret codes. My own investigations.”
“Then—” Diluc cuts himself off as realization dawns on him. He’d seen that longing, that shadow, before when Kaeya had tried to reach out to him that rainy night years ago. That desire to be seen. To be known. To connect. “It bothers you.”
“Of course it does.” Kaeya still covers his eye. “What was it all for? I’ve never belonged there.”
What Diluc doesn’t understand is why Kaeya looked like that when he looked toward Mondstadt. “…And Mondstadt?”
“Can’t hide anything from you.” Kaeya sighs again. “It’s not mine either.”
Of all the ludicrous—Diluc snaps, “What are you talking—”
“I’m not from here,” Kaeya interrupts, the hand by his side curling tight. Diluc winces, hearing the echo of his own words from years ago. “Even here, none of this is mine.” He laughs hollowly, gesturing at the graveyard around them. “Not for long, at least.”
Unable to take it anymore, Diluc leans over, yanking Kaeya’s hand away from his face to reveal a distraught eye. “What do you mean none?” he growls.
“I was never supposed to stay here as long as I did,” Kaeya whispered hoarsely. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”
“Yet, here you are.”
Kaeya tries to turn his head but Diluc stops him.
“More importantly.” Diluc clicks his tongue. Does he have to spell it out? “You have history here. With me.”
Kaeya falls silent, his lips parting slightly, his eye wide.
“So you’d better realize where you belong and fast.”
For once, Kaeya’s vulnerable, unable to hide his relief, his joy. And when he reaches up, his trembling hands dragging Diluc down for a kiss, he complies.
Mine. He doesn’t say.
I’m yours, he also doesn’t say.
Kaeya still seems to get the message.