Archive of Our Own

 ✧ 

The first time Yelan had a run-in with the raven haired man was during one of her missions.

She's fighting off seven, no, eight Fatui agents as she whizzes and twirls around the cavern in flashes of blue. Their hammers and axes render them helpless.

They should've known better than to bring a knife to a gun fight, she thinks wildly, the adrenaline rendering her a little mad. She twists around, arrows flying from her bow as her enemies fall one by one.

The last skirmisher raises his hammer well above his head, but before he could even bring it down, an arrow impales him right through his chest.

“Urgh!” the thud reverberates when her final pursuer falls to his knees, then once more when his chest hits the ground.

There’s somebody else here, Yelan’s brain supplies. 

A pebble trickles in the opposite direction, and that’s all the evidence she needs before she whirls around to face the last of her attackers, except he doesn’t move an inch. He’s obscured in the farther shadows of the cavern, and Yelan’s vision isn’t bright enough for her to make out his full form.

She could only make out the ends of his dark hair and the accents of his excessively large coat. He stands aloof, silently observing her, his hands clasped together. The chain of his glasses tinkle in the absence of his voice.

“What,” she demands in a threatening tone, pointing her bow at him.

He’s about to open his mouth to answer, perhaps to talk his way out of the situation, before Yelan catches the sound of a flurry of footsteps from behind her.

“...Hyah!!”

Yelan realizes she’s let her guard down when a Fatui agent recovers from the ground and swings at her head in a surprise attack. She steps to the side like it’s her second nature, dispatches him, then disappears from the scene in a blink. She didn’t care that she’s left a witness. Her job was more than finished.

✧

Outside of the cavern, for some odd reason, Yelan couldn’t get the man out of her head.

There was nothing very memorable about the man, other than the way his dull lavender eyes narrowed when he almost seemed to glare at her vision. Yelan doesn't think she's ever seen such a disdainful expression.

Perhaps he was denied grace from the gods. How curious.

✧

The second time Yelan met him was by coincidence, with a touch of eavesdropping.

This time, she was on her way to Mondstadt to meet up with some other high-ranking intelligence operatives. It was minutes until midnight, and Yelan had planned on moving discreetly before she heard Fatui voices coming from the shadows.

Curious, she hides in a bush, careful not to make a rustle.

A tall cloaked figure is ordering around a group of lower-ranked diplomats. Judging from the strands of dark hair sticking out and the stature of his build, Yelan is almost certain it was the man she saw in the cavern. What an undistinguishing disguise, she thinks.

“…As for you two, duly report back to me something other than gossip from the Goth Grand hotel. Meeting adjourned.” He waves them off in annoyance. Yelan grimaces at the terrible timing. She barely garnered any information from their meeting. She turns around to leave.

“And as for you, Valley Orchid,”

Yelan almost freezes when she hears a heel click in her direction, a hundred questions racing through her mind. 

How does he know who I am? How did he spot me? It should’ve been impossible without elemental sight—

Carefully, she stands back up, steeling her expression. She faces him. Just like last time, he bares no weapon and wields no vision, but maybe it is because he has something far greater in power.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten your little stint outside of that domain,” he continues. His voice is baritone, with the kind of lilt that Yelan’s only heard from the bothersome rich and mighty.

His face is still difficult to make out under the moonlight, but she makes out the sharpness of his jawline and the thickness of the dark eyelashes that hide behind his glasses.

He crinkles a close-eyed smile. It appears pleasant and kindred, but for some reason, it activates all of Yelan’s warnings of foreboding danger. Her hand is to her side, ready to summon her bow.

“Now now, there’s no need to use that here. I was merely impressed by the level of marksmanship you’ve displayed that day. But continue to sabotage my plans, and let’s see where that gets you.”

There it was— the unveiled malice behind his smile. And although Yelan has no clue who this man is, or what sort of authority he wielded to have been able to find out who she was, she was past the point where threats had any sort of effect on her.

“You try to lay a finger on me, and let’s see where that gets you,” she threatens back coolly.

“Oh, I’m willing to find out,” he replies, stepping an inch closer and leaning in. When he opens his eyes, Yelan realizes that they were better closed. 

Now, in any normal circumstance, Yelan would’ve already taken this man in for questioning- an arrow pointed at his face and a heel violently planted behind his back. But for some nagging reason, she feels that it is of higher importance that she doesn’t act on that impulse quite yet.

She glares at him, then stares at the overhanging moon. I should get to Dawn Winery sooner. I shouldn’t keep wasting my time entertaining this man.

“And you are?” She doesn’t expect him to answer.

“That’s for you to figure out,” he replies with a smirk. No matter how close he leans forward, his face is still obscured.

She scoffs, then disappears once more.

✧

It’s been five days since that incident, and Yelan is packing up to leave from Diluc’s estate. Since then, they’ve plotted out an entire map of the Fatui’s hideouts together over her time spent there. Carrier pigeons have been flying in and out of the opened window, lugging messages from the members of the intelligence network who couldn’t show up.

The 17th pigeon that day shows up, squawking expectantly at the windowsill.

Diluc lets out an exasperated sigh. “Couldn’t they just show up in person?”

Yelan shakes her head in agreed annoyance. She struts over to the cooing pigeon, taking the rolled-up letter out of it’s grasp. It flies off when Yelan unrolls it, as she reads it’s contents.

“What does it say?” Diluc calls from the other side of the room.

Yelan’s eyes narrow. “It’s from Ningguang. It says that the Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers has placed me on his watchlist… ‘the Valley Orchid…’” 

Diluc raises an eyebrow. Yelan whirls around.

“Do you have any sort of intel on the Ninth? Any files?”

The auburn-haired man unlocks his filing cabinet and sifts through stacks of files for his name. He places a thin folder titled “The Regrator” on the table. They open it on the desk, eyes scouring it’s lack of contents.

“First name, Pantalone… Last name, unknown… Eye color, unknown… Height, unknown… usually resides in Snezhnaya and rarely commits to fieldwork… Known as the richest man in Teyvat… Plans, unknown…”

Yelan mutters as she’s reading his file. There’s so little known about him. Her eyes narrow. There’s no photos of him, save for one blurry shot of a dark figure, but that could be anybody—

She flips the paper over, and is greeted with a face all too familiar. The witness’ sketch outlines his features imperfectly, but the jut of his jawline and the curve of his smile…

“It’s him,” she says.

“What?” says Diluc.

“The man I saw on the way here. It was Pantalone.”

She scoffs. His appearance was so unassuming at first glance. She wouldn’t have guessed for a second the man was a Fatui Harbinger. But to think that he has his eyes set on me too…

Yelan smirks a little, feeling the adrenaline rush of a game coming on.

✧

The third time Yelan crossed paths with the man, now identified as Pantalone, was on an expedition to Fontaine.

It had been a month and a half since the last time she’s seen him, but she had far from forgotten him with how many minions he’s been sending after her.

She was cleaning up after a stealth mission that had nothing to do with the Fatui, but she couldn’t help but notice that there were a few suspiciously-closed-off rooms in the building she was in. Letting her boredom get the best of her, she decides to go on a little bit of a side quest.

Pulling her cloak back on, she heads to each room one after one without a sound.

They were all neatly tidied up with their papers and books in their correct spots, however some rooms strangely had elemental traces hanging around. Following the trail, she ascended up the stairs.

When she reached the second highest room, a file that could only scream Fatui was thrown haphazardly on the floor. 

Somebody didn’t do a good job of cleaning. Her suspicions had been confirmed.

The last room, on the highest floor, was the only one with the lights still on. Two Fatui diplomats were standing post outside, and Yelan could make out a shuffling inside of the room. There was somebody in there. 

Would her actions have consequences? Whatever. It didn’t matter— Yelan was cloaked.

She sent out a stream of string that spun around the two diplomats, then two more around their mouths. She crossed over to them in a beat— “Shhh,” she put a finger to her lips, patted down the two struggling diplomats, then tossed them down the hall. Then, she threw the office door open.

A startled figure swiveled around on his chair to face his intruder, and Yelan wishes she had a Kamera to capture the way Pantalone’s face falls. For somebody of such high stature, his office was surprisingly very out in the open.

Thank the Archons she decided to stay behind after the mission. She’s just landed herself a goldmine.

“I’d appreciate it if you stopped sending your underlings after me,” she sat legs crossed, heels on his paper-filled desk with a finger spinning her bow.

He was shocked into silence, completely unprepared for their next meeting. Pantalone’s expression was completely devoid of all the threat and haughtiness it had during their last meeting.

“What’s wrong? Where did all of that attitude go?” she tilts her head in a playful jeer, which causes her hood to slide off.

Seeing from the way his eyes trace the assymetrical juts of her hair, he seems to have finally recognized her. He instantly steels his expression.

“What, has your intelligence network finally decided to hold me for ransom?” he quirks an eyebrow. He chooses his words carefully, probably to avoid getting an arrow lodged in his chest today.

Luckily for him, Yelan doesn’t have any intention to.

“Nope, I’ve already completed my mission. I’m just here on a side-quest, Pantalone.” She pronounces his name syllable-by-syllable with a grin. She only intends on playing with him, given that he’s completely unguarded right now. 

At the mention of his name, the raven haired man scoffs in a way that suggests Pantalone probably isn’t his real name, his eyes bearing an expression a mark away from the one she was expecting out of him. Yelan peers over at his paperwork, seeing what it is that he’s working on.

“Is that the Fatui’s next operation?” she leans forward.

The man scowls at Yelan, yet he makes no move to dissuade her.

It wasn’t long before a few whizzes sound outside of the room, and Yelan tosses her hood back on. Looks like my time is up, she frowns, and she twirls outside before the agents could catch up to her.

And for the third time, she disappears without a trace.

✧

It’s only natural that Yelan sees him a fourth time. 

This time, it was in her homeland. She was enjoying a steaming cup of tea— extra spicy, as usual, on one of the rare days where she finally gets to relax. And that’s been getting harder, with the increased influx of minions that somebody has been sending after her.

And of course, said somebody has to ruin her nice afternoon when he settles his teacup down and she hears the faint jingle of his glasses’ chains. It’s too bad she can’t do anything to him in broad daylight.

“Good afternoon, Yelan.” He wears a pleasant smile, and his tone has a cadence of a gloat in it as if he’s one-upped Yelan for figuring out her real name first.

In other cases, she would’ve felt taken aback, and maybe even scared, if somebody ever figured out her true identity. But the way he presented it, Yelan wanted to roll her eyes.

This time around, he was wearing something more akin to oriental Liyuen wear. Yelan realizes this is the first time she’s taken a proper look at his face. His brows were thick and dark as were his eyelashes, and his jawline was nothing short of chiseled.

She doesn’t know if it was the lighting or the clothing he’s sported, but the Regrator was somehow annoyingly handsome.

“That’s bold of you, knowing that you hide behind the fake name that the Fatui’s given you.”

Yelan doesn't miss the way his eyes open a smidge in surprise, before they turn into something a little akin to acknowledgement.

"Clever," he observes, then takes a sip out of his teacup.

That’s the first positive thing I’ve seen him do. However, his answer and it’s sincerity only confirms his true name isn’t Pantalone. Yelan will have to update his file later on.

“So, what are you doing in Liyue?” She crosses her arms. Her eyes examine his outfit. Could he be here undercover? But then again, nobody really knows who he truly is. Another possibility is that he could’ve finally realized that gargantuous coat would only do him no good in this weather.

“That’s for you to figure out,” he takes another sip of his tea, eyeing Yelan. What game is he playing at? 

The man then asks, “Do you always randomly appear then disappear into thin air?”

“Yeah. Do you always plan on ruining the lives of civillians wherever you go?”

The Regrator shrugs remorselessly. “Yeah,” he says, a little muffled in his teacup. He finishes his tea, then beckons the waiter to order whatever Yelan’s having.

“This whole time, I could’ve ruined you, you know,” he says, gaze directed back to her.

“Huh. Isn’t that curious. So why haven’t you?”

He stares at her face for a heartbeat too long then shrugs again, seemingly not having found the answer himself. The harbinger then murmurs a thank-you to the waiter.

“Here’s to knowing your enemy,” he says before taking a sip of his new tea.

Immediately, he starts coughing into his fist, and he glares at Yelan as if she’s poisoned him. It draws quite a bit of attention from those around them, and so he places a small pouch of mora on the table before getting up and leaving.

“Excuse me,” he mutters to a passing elderly as he’s leaving.

Yelan has to hold in her laughter. “Here’s to knowing your enemy, indeed,” she gloats after him. Seems like he couldn’t handle his enemy. How embarrassing.

✧

And of course they meet a fifth time.

This time, their situations have been flipped. Somehow, Yelan has found herself in a sticky situation; her latest operation has landed her right in the heart of one of the many Fatui headquarters, situated in the middle of nowhere in Snezhnaya. Ningguang will be getting an earful about this.

If she makes it out alive, that is.

She holds her breath when she hears an unrecognizable male voice. She cautiously peers out from the pillar she is hiding behind and immediately snaps her head back. The Doctor. 

This operation has gotten far too dangerous. Yelan’s eyes dart around for an escape route. But from where she’s standing, it would be impossible to go out the entrance she came from without being spotted.

Except for the door behind her. She peers into the slightly opened room. She can barely make out a glass window— In the worst case scenario, I’ll have to break that window and run.

She hears the Doctor’s slow footsteps getting closer and closer, as they reverberate within the icy palace.

“Yelan,” he says with a smirk.

“Feofan,” she returns.

He raises an eyebrow, then smiles- a far cry from the terrifying smile she once received from him. This one might’ve even held a little warmth.

“So you’ve finally figured it out.”

She smiles back.

“Feofan Sergeyevich Veksel,” he formally introduces himself, putting his hand out for her to shake. Unfortunately, I rarely have any use for that name anymore. Do what you will with it.”

“Feofan Sergeyevich Veksel,” Yelan slowly sounds out his name. It’s quite the mouthful.

“Thank you,” she says, firmly shaking his hand. For sparing me that time. She doesn’t know why he had decided to spare her, but she has a little feeling it has something to do with the reason she’s spared him this entire time.

“Yelan,” she says, introducing herself.

He nods in acknowledgement. “So, Yelan, does that mean you’ll stop foiling my plans?”

She tilts her head to think, long and hard, then shakes her head.

“Perhaps in your wildest dreams.” 

He sighs, “So be it, then.”

“Goodbye, Feofan.”

“And goodbye, Yelan.”

And when they brush shoulders, Yelan felt a strange wave of something indescribable. There was a little irony in knowing each other’s real names, knowing the level of secrecy behind them.

She walks on, a small smile on her lips. 

Who knows when I’ll see him again.

✧

The evening sunlight shines through the window of the Dawn Winery Manor.

A fluttering pigeon flies in and squawks; in it’s claws is a letter. Diluc sets his book down and gets up off his rocking chair, carefully taking the paper out of the pigeon’s claws.

It has the Valley Flower’s insignia on it. The pigeon flutters away.

“Huh.” Diluc unrolls the paper, squinting his eyes at it’s contents. It’s an updated file on the Regrator. In it is a detailed sketch of his facial profile and on the back is a paper with some more filled-in details.

“Eye color, purple… Height, 195cm… Commits to fieldwork now and then… Often wears a large dark Snezhnayan overcoat…” Diluc skims over the paper. 

“Name, confirmed to be Pantalone.”

Good work, Valley Orchid.

He carefully takes the paper over and places it snugly into his filing cabinet.

— ✧ —