Work Text:
Fontaine was known for its world-changing innovations, the Kamera being one of many that caught the eye of purchasers. The ability to take photographs of people served as an immediate solution for those unable to capture their likeness in paint, yet for some it served as a tool to help the process. Unfortunately, the device was still in a heavy testing stage, only those with enough money or status could afford the invention. One such statused painter himself was a young Crepus Ragnvindr, who had ever so politely asked his parents to purchase a Kamera on their business trip to Fontaine. They had agreed, thinking this new-fangled photography as a hobby might do good to help their son avoid chasing his dreams of knighthood, yet they didn’t know the true reason he asked for it.
You see, Crepus was taking a risk here, a risk he wouldn’t have taken years ago. He was going to paint someone, and not just himself or his parents or a face conjured from his mind. No, he was going to paint Varka, and to paint Varka he needed a reference, and he couldn’t ask him unless he wanted to reveal the surprise part of his plan. Varka’s birthday was in two weeks, and Crepus wanted to have a portrait of his friend done before then.
So logically, Crepus spent his first day with his new Kamera figuring out how it worked. After all, what good would it be to show it to Varka if he himself didn’t even know what he was doing? Nobody in Mondstadt had seen a Kamera before, so Cepus couldn’t simply ask someone for help, and even then he didn’t want to risk someone breaking the device in an attempt to use it. After all, it had to be in perfect condition to take the picture of Varka.
Crepus began to figure out the basic functions, you could take photos of anything as long as there was enough light, and the results were a perfect image of the scene, though somewhat desaturated. The Ragnvindr heir’s first subject was the first person he just so happened to come across, Tunner being unable to refuse seeing the pure begging in his young master’s eyes. A flash of light and click of a button later and the farmer slowed appeared onto the photo, a proud smile on Crepus’ face seeing he got the results he wanted.
The rest of the day was spent taking scarce photos around the winery, each capturing a different shot of the various sights. One photo even featured a shot of a crystalfly that had flown by at the last second. It was remarkable how the Kamera managed to lock onto the crystalfly even in mid motion. Crepus began to finally realize just how useful the Kamera was even outside of his task of painting Varka, now he wouldn’t have to spend hours trying to capture the form of a subject he couldn’t materialize out of thin air. With the basics down, Crepus knew he had to send a letter to Varka to join him tomorrow in testing it out
“To V:
I recently obtained a Fontainian device called a Kamera! It allows you to record snapshots of reality, making it an excellent tool for referencing in my paintings. I was wondering if you would like to test it out with me tomorrow? Perhaps around noon?
From C”
The letter wasn’t the only reason that Varka ended up at Crepus’ house, yet his falcon banging on his window that night certainly served to confirm his plans. He had been wanting to see if his friend had any souvenirs from Fontaine after overhearing him mention his parents going there on a trip, yet he didn’t exactly want to seem like all he cared about was said souvenirs, now providing the perfect opportunity for him to visit.
He arrived at the Ragnvindr Manor surprisingly early, knocking on the door like he was knocking on wood instead of a highly esteemed estate, though anyone who knew both Crepus and Varka knew that Crepus didn’t mind it one bit. However, it wasn’t Crepus who answered the door, but rather an agitated looking maid.
“Uh, hey? Is Young Master Crepus here?” Varka was overtaken by an uncharacteristic nervousness at the woman’s sharp eyes.
“What business could you have with the young master?” The maid looked ready to slam the door in his face just as a figure ran up and gently shoved the woman aside.
“This is my guest, treat him with the same respect you would treat me.” Crepus sighed and looked towards Varka, a smile on his face at the sight of his friend, “Hello, Varka!”
“Crepus! Sorry about the sudden drop-in, but I take it you invited me, right?”
“No need to apologize, I forgot to inform the staff you would be coming.” Crepus looked back towards the maid, who was now walking away, “Between you and me I wish they would inform me before trying to slam the door in your face.”
That remark made Varka laugh as he stepped inside the manor. For all the elegance Crepus had to put up for the public, he always managed to keep his sense of snark and humor for his friend, Varka doubted most people would never find out just how funny Crepus was.
“Enough with the awful laugh,” Crepus put on a serious tone, but the growing smirk on his face indicated he meant the exact opposite of what he said, “We have business to attend to.”
“You know you love my so-called awful laugh! And I don’t even see this new Kamera thingy” Varka crossed his arms and Crepus rolled his eyes, grabbing a device Varka had only vaguely seen in newspapers and holding it up.
“Meet the future of painting according to one too many Fontainian inventors, but for me it’s the future of references.” Crepus pressed a button as a small light on the Kamera turned on, “You’re going to be the first test subject, say cheese!”
“Huh? Wha-”
Varka barely got the word out as a bright light flashed and Crepus took his photo, blinding him for a moment as he held out a hand to steady him.
“Oops, I should’ve warned you, it’s bright. Hopefully this turns out as well as the others.”
“I thought I was your first test subject and now I find out you knew about the blinding light? I never expected you to be a traitor, Crepus!” Varka frowned as the redhead pulled out something from the Kamera, holding out to him.
“Oh hush, just look.” Crepus waved the paper as something slowly formed on it, Varka’s eyebrows raising as his mirror image stared back at him captured halfway midblink. It really was remarkable, if only the photo was more flattering.
“That’s an awful photo, let’s do another one, my turn!” Varka swatted at the photo, which Crepus held close to his chest almost nervously, offering the Kamera to Varka instead.
“No way, it’s a memory to keep, but I can show you how to work the Kamera.” Crepus slipped the photo into his pocket as Varka took the Kamera, “It’s rather simple, just look into the eyepiece and press this button here to take a picture.”
Varka wordlessly took the device, turning it around to snap a picture of Crepus the second he could, the light startling him even more than it did Varka. Varka coughed into his hand and grabbed the photograph as Crepus hissed and shook his head to get rid of the feeling.
“There, now we’re even.” Varka handed the Kamera back to Crepus as a grin formed on his face, “HAH! You look like you’re about to sneeze!”
Crepus’ face twisted into a deep frown as he looked at Varka holding up the photo like it was a treasure. It was worse than Varka’s, his eyes unfocused and hair flung everywhere as if he was midjump and he really did look like he was midsneeze.
“Aha ha, very funny, now let’s actually try, alright?”
Varka nodded, his grin never wavering.
“You got it!”
In the end, Crepus never did ask to take another picture of Varka, fearing the request would be too inanimate in a sense. The photo was good enough, after all. As long as Crepus had a reference he could imagine this surprised and midblink Varka was actually smiling warmly for a portrait to be hung in his future office. That was all he needed.
Normally Crepus liked to paint outside, reveling in the scenery with the occasional conversation with a bored Varka. This time, Varka couldn’t possibly even have a hint of what he was planning, so each day spent working on the painting would be done in his room, the initial strokes of a sketch forming the face of the one to receive the painting.
Painting people involved looking at your reference over and over again, something that when by the thirtieth time he turned to the photo of Varka, Crepus found a blush creeping up on his face. Did Varka even remember Crepus kept that photo of him? Sure, he let Varka keep his ugly one, but he doubted a photograph like that would spark any treasured memories to the blond. That was if he hadn’t thrown it away as soon as he left the manor. Crepus chewed on the end of his paintbrush as he forced himself to look at the photo of Varka before dipping the brush into the carefully mixed paint. The colors had to be perfect, the gift HAD to be perfect.
Some days while he worked, Crepus was easily able to make progress, confident in his attempt at recreating Varka’s face. Those were the days he wondered if he was overdoing it, yet he still continued on painting stroke after stroke. Other days he was left feeling the project was impossible and any result he DID get wouldn’t suffice in the slightest, that and the whole idea itself was stupid. What kind of guy wanted a painting from his guy friend over money or an actual gift? Especially if that friend could clearly afford it like Crepus? It was on those days the redhead had to get up from his work before he threw the canvas off of the easel out of frustration.
Despite the hurdles, Crepus was beginning to make progress, the flat colors all done and the painting ready for the facial features. This was possibly the hardest part of it all, just how exactly would he be able to capture VARKA on a canvas? He was an embodiment of freedom, someone who could never be restricted to paint, someone who would look out of place regardless. It was that realization that made Crepus decide he HAD to include a look of triumph on Varka’s face, one that might not exactly fit in an office, yet then again he could hardly imagine Varka LETTING himself be restricted to an office. After all, Varka was the one who inspired Crepus to venture past the borders of the winery and city to see the sights of Mondstadt, it wouldn’t be fair for him to paint Varka as someone perfectly composed.
By the time Crepus finally finished the face, the rest of the painting seemed to come naturally, the finished project ready a day before the party. Instead of wrapping it up and risking damaging the paints, Crepus opted to place a sheet over it, deciding to present it before the party. He didn’t want to become even more of a laughingstock to Varka’s knight friends, especially Eroch, who he doubted even liked Varka in the first place. So of course, Crepus would deliver the painting tomorrow before the party and make like a leaf and leave before the knights and future knights arrived. Yes, the plan was perfect, if only Crepus wasn’t still so nervous
In an hour, Varka would turn sixteen. In a day, Varka was going to pass the knight’s prep exam and take his place in the Knights of Favonius. But for now, Varka merely focused on training with his claymore outside of the Knights of Favonius headquarters, the activity doing little to take his mind off of his upcoming celebration. Planning to join the knights brought him more excitement than the process of his birthday itself.
“Varka!” A voice called out, and Varka abruptly stopped swinging his claymore to turn and look at Crepus walking over with something under his arm. He looked almost nervous, clutching onto whatever it was he held tightly.
“Crepus? The celebration is in an hour, you know? Or did you just want to see me?” Varka dropped his claymore and smirked, “Kidding! What brings you here?”
“I-” Crepus started before he looked away, red slowly taking over his face, “I just wanted to bring you your gift early. It’s- it’s not exactly conventional.”
“Conventional?” Varka raised an eyebrow, “Honestly I don’t really care about stuff like that! I told you just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you have to buy me the most expensive thing on the market!”
At the word ‘buy’, Crepus made eye contact with Varka and sighed, “I didn’t buy you anything”
“But you just mentioned a gift?” Now Varka was confused, Crepus clearly held something that was CLEARLY a gift, was he seriously taking it back?
“Its homemade…” Now Crepus’ face was a full on bright red, his hair falling in his face as he looked away once again, “You don’t have to accept it, it was more of a test than anything-”
Crepus held out the object covered in a sheet, which Varka recognized as a painting. Just what exactly would his friend have painted him today? Varka put on an honest smile as he pulled off the sheet, his jaw dropping as he looked at the painting. He didn’t say anything, eyes scanning his own face as Crepus fidgeted with his sleeves.
“Like I said, I painted it to test out some new brushes and paints.” Crepus voice was loud and rushed before going quiet and unsure, “You don’t have to keep it.”
“Crepus, this is incredible!”
Crepus barely had the time to process the reaction as Varka suddenly pulled him into a side hug, the painting in his other hand. Varka looked from Crepus to the painting and back again, “How did you get it to look just like me?”
“...that’s why I took your photo with the Kamera, so I could paint you without having a reference.” Crepus huffed, though he returned Varka’s bright grin with a small yet earnest smile that made Varka want to get his OWN Kamera and capture the sight.
“And you seriously painted this with that photo? My eyes weren’t even open! How DO you do it?! You know you could’ve just retaken my photo.”
“It was easier this way, and you liked the result I presume?” Crepus’ arm tightened around Varka’s waist, an action neither seemed to notice.
“Duh! Nobody paints like you do. Are you sure you want to be a knight when your true passion could be painting for a bunch of other rich folks?” Varka’s tone was joking, he knew how much Crepus wanted to be a knight more than anything and he clearly didn’t want to upset him after he just presented him with some of his, and not to brag on his own looks, finest work yet.
“I wouldn’t want to paint just anyone!” Crepus remarked, his eyes turning soft despite this, “But I’m glad you like it… I tried to base it off of the portraits knights tend to have in their offices.”
“And you said you DIDN’T want to paint just anyone! The knights would clearly want to know who painted the masterpiece in the office! And that’s if I even manage to become Grandmaster!”
“If anyone deserves to be the Grandmaster besides Valentine, it’s you. You’re already the spitting image of a knight and everyone knows it.”
“Ehh, just because I want it doesn’t mean I’ll get it, doesn’t mean I won’t try though! HAHAHA!” Varka laughed and turned to look back at Crepus with fondness in his eyes, “Still though, thanks again, Crepus. I really do appreciate it.”
At those words Crepus’ face didn’t burn bright red, still too shocked to process the thanks before he locked in to respond.
“Of course, dare I say you might be my favorite subject.”