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Kaeya didn’t like to talk about his past.
It wasn’t a secret, nor did it come as a surprise considering everything he’d endured, and it wasn’t something Albedo felt particularly bothered by. All humans had a past, and he’d quickly learned not everyone liked to talk about theirs as openly as others.
Even Master Rhinedottir had never so much as uttered a word about hers, quickly shutting him out the few times he’d tried asking about it. According to her, a person’s present and future were far more important.
Her methods of teaching had not been perfect, but Albedo was grateful for that particular lesson all the same.
He didn’t care about Kaeya’s past so long as he knew the person he was today; Kaeya’s present self was enough.
Despite this, Albedo couldn’t stop himself from listening intently whenever the other did feel like sharing something, no matter how small. He was a naturally curious person, and he cared for Kaeya a great deal, so it was only natural he’d want to know more about him.
They’d been walking through the Knights of Favonius Headquarters like any other day, passing some of the paintings on display in the entrance hall, when Kaeya had muttered something about a family portrait.
Albedo had given him a curious look, but all Kaeya had said about the matter was that it had been lost to flames, and that had been that. It hadn’t been hard to put two and two together, but no more words were exchanged about it. Kaeya was awfully good at changing the subject whenever it was convenient to him.
Still, it got Albedo thinking.
It was impossible to retrieve something that had been lost – even when using alchemy, one needed to know what an object looked like in a previous state – but there were other options.
Kaeya wouldn’t have brought it up if the painting hadn’t held some kind of emotional value for him, and unlike a certain bartender, he didn’t harbour the same kind of bitter feelings towards people he once called family.
For Kaeya’s sake, Albedo was willing to try his best.
‘A family portrait, you say?’ Jean asked when he confronted her about it, looking more solemn than Albedo had ever seen her before. Even in the privacy of her own office, she seemed hesitant to display these kinds of emotions.
Painting someone he’d never seen had turned out to be more complicated than Albedo had hoped, so he’d decided to call in some help – that being the help of people who had known Crepus Ragnvindr personally, or had been close to Kaeya and Diluc as children.
The only description Kaeya had ever given him was “Diluc if he had a beard and didn’t hate fun”. Which wasn’t much to go on, and it wasn’t like Albedo could just ask him for a better description without raising suspicion.
‘You’d have more luck asking Master Diluc about this, I’m afraid.’ Jean’s words pulled him back to the present. Somehow, the answer didn’t come as a surprise, though that didn’t make it any less disappointing. Asking Diluc about his father would have been the logical choice, if only the man wasn’t so closed off and private about these things.
In order to paint a realistic portrait, Albedo didn’t just need to know what someone physically looked like; he needed to know what they were like as a person. A painting would feel lifeless without that added layer of depth.
‘That begs the question of whether he’d be willing to provide me with answers.’ Albedo replied, though it may have come out sounding more like a plea. Jean and Kaeya had known each other since they were little, and considering how much she cared about those around her, Jean seemed more willing to help him out than Diluc.
‘…Probably not, no.’
With a sigh, she stood up, and moved from her spot behind the desk in order to properly face him.
‘I appreciate what you’re doing for Kaeya.’ she said, her voice kind and genuine. ‘He’s been doing a lot better since you came into his life.’
Albedo hadn’t come to her for flattery, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same.
‘But at the same time, this isn’t my story to tell.’ Jean continued. ‘Talking to you about the past feels like going behind Diluc’s back. I know you’re just asking for a description, but…’
‘It’s not the past I’m interested in per se.’ Albedo tried to explain. ‘I don’t need to know about their history, but in order to recreate a painting, I do need to know what their father was like. I tried public records, but any and all files regarding Crepus Ragnvindr seem to be missing.’
‘Yes, that’s-…’ Jean started, before seemingly changing her mind and shaking her head. ‘I don’t think there are any photographs or paintings of him left. Not ones that aren’t in Diluc’s possession, at least.’
‘Which brings us back to the same dead end.’ Albedo concluded. ‘That’s…unfortunate.’
Jean bit her lip in thought, not saying anything for a while, before finally letting out a deep sigh and running a hand through her hair.
‘You know, perhaps this will do them both some good.’ she said, a hint of newly-found determination in her voice. ‘Perhaps I’m worrying too much, and Diluc will just have to accept the situation as it is. What was that saying again…sometimes it’s better to seek forgiveness later rather than ask for permission now?’
Albedo wondered if she’d been spending too much time around Lisa, Kaeya and Venti, the lot of them having had a bad influence on her usual rule-abiding self. If so, he’d have to thank them for it later.
Or perhaps she simply cared more about the wellbeing of her friends than she did about the rules.
‘Do you have your sketchbook ready?’ Jean asked him. ‘Because I am about to give you the worst possible description imaginable, and you’ll likely have to restart a dozen times.’
With a small chuckle, Albedo got out his drawing supplies, sketchbook at the ready.
Having to redraw something a dozen times was better than never getting to draw something at all.
For the citizens of Mondstadt, the subject of what Crepus Ragnvindr used to be like was something of a sensitive one.
Most people Albedo had spoken to had looked upset upon remembering the past, even if they had plenty of happy memories to reminisce about. It had quickly become apparent Crepus had been well-liked, which had made his sudden passing all the more difficult to move on from. He’d gathered as much based on Jean’s descriptions, but he hadn’t quite expected it to be this severe.
The people of Mondstadt had no qualms about describing the man to him, but since most of their tales seemed to be tinged with grief somewhere along the line, Albedo felt dissatisfied with most of the sketches he made. The person he drew certainly looked like Crepus Ragnvindr physically speaking, but whomever he was speaking to in that moment would always tell him the eyes looked too sad, or his expression was too serious.
If mere strangers had this much trouble moving on from his death even all these years later, Albedo couldn’t even begin to imagine the whirlwind of emotions his sons must have been feeling.
It seemed that, somewhere along the line, the memory of Crepus had been tainted with tragedy, his true face long forgotten even by the people that had been closest to him.
Albedo wondered if, for the first time in his life, he’d encountered a subject he was incapable of drawing.
Rosaria wasn’t an easy person to talk to – at least not for Albedo.
That didn’t take away the fact she was Kaeya’s best friend, which meant if there was anyone out there to whom he’d spill his innermost secrets, it would be her.
They hadn’t agreed to meet up at Angel’s Share exactly, but upon approaching her and mentioning his desire to do something for Kaeya, she’d gestured for him to sit down so they could talk.
After explaining the situation to her, she looked surprised.
‘That certainly wasn’t what I had in mind when you said you wanted to do something for Kaeya.’
‘Does that mean you can’t help?’
‘I didn’t say that.’
She looked at him for a good few seconds, contemplating where to start, before letting out a long, tired sigh.
‘Had I known beforehand I’d be having such depressing conversations, I would have ordered something stronger.’ she said, gesturing at her drink. ‘I guess we better start while the night is still young.’
Albedo made a mental note to treat Rosaria to a nice bottle of wine later, then got out his sketchbook. She eyed it curiously, not so subtly letting her eyes wander over his previous sketches, then looked up at him once he reached a blank page.
‘I can see you already know what Master Crepus’ face looked like.’ she said, running her fingers over the rim of her half-empty glass. ‘In fact, your sketches would suffice as they are. What do you need my intel for?’
He hadn’t expected anything less from someone as observant as Rosaria, though he could only hope his answer would please her.
‘In order to paint a realistic portrait, I need to know what a person is like.’ he told her. ‘It’s not enough to know their physical appearance alone, I need to understand their personality. Their thoughts and feelings, their motivations…if I don’t, the resemblance won’t be as accurate.’
Rosaria pursed her lips as if in deep thought, then nodded in understanding.
‘Alright, I get your point.’ she said. ‘Kaeya has complained about not having any physical reminders of his childhood quite a few times, so I’m sure he’d appreciate just about anything you’d give him. For you to be this diligent shows how much care you’re putting into this.’
‘I care about Kaeya a great deal.’ was Albedo’s simple reply. ‘I consider myself a perfectionist with many things, but especially so when it comes to a gift for someone I cherish. Is that so strange?’
‘No, it’s a good thing.’ Rosaria told him. ‘I think Kaeya needs someone like that in his life.’
Then, she downed her drink in one go, and looked at him with a determined glint in her eye.
‘I didn’t know Master Crepus personally, but I can tell you what I know from Kaeya’s drunk slip-of-the-tongues.’ she said. ‘That, and the things Grand Master Varka told me.’
The main reason Albedo had come to her was because she was close to Kaeya, but if she knew things about Master Crepus due to how close she was to Grand Master Varka, he wouldn’t complain. He hadn’t expected her to be this open about that, but perhaps she made exceptions when it concerned people she cared about.
‘Thank you for your help, Rosaria.’
She carefully put her glass down, glancing at his sketchbook momentarily before focussing on him once more, then seemed to make up her mind about something.
‘You know, I didn’t know what to make of you when you first arrived here.’ she admitted, almost looking a little apologetic. ‘I feared you might pose a threat to the city I had grown so fond of, and then later, I feared for what you might do to someone I call my friend.’
She then paused for a while, observing his reaction to that statement, and continued when she found it didn’t disappoint her.
‘But I misjudged you.’ she said. ‘You’re good for him, and for this city. So…thank you.’
Albedo nodded in understanding, then picked up his pencil so he could busy his hands with something as they talked.
Her approval of him wasn’t what he’d been after, well aware of her distrust towards him, but it was nice to have it anyway. They both cared for Kaeya in different ways, and if this meant they could work together to make something meaningful for him, then Albedo was grateful.
If she then provided him with some promising information on where to get even more references for his painting, he was grateful for that, too.
Albedo didn’t like keeping secrets from Kaeya in the slightest; not even when it came to surprises.
Sure, he looked forward to seeing Kaeya’s expression upon receiving the portrait, but he didn’t want to make him feel bad in the here and now. Kaeya had been abandoned often enough for him to be particularly sensitive to secrecy, and Albedo couldn’t blame him for that.
When Kaeya anxiously glanced in the direction of his sketchbook one evening, no words were necessary for Albedo to know he was worried about something regardless. Not only that, but he could feel the other tense ever so slightly with how they were draped over the couch together.
‘Is everything okay?’ he asked him softly, knowing Kaeya would never mention it on his own accord. There was still a fifty-fifty chance he’d dismiss his own feelings and try to change the subject, but it was important to try.
‘It’s nothing.’ came Kaeya’s initial reply, before remembering he wouldn’t get away with such a dismissive answer towards his own partner. ‘I mean, nothing big, anyway.’
He absentmindedly ran his fingers through Albedo’s hair with a feather-light touch, but Albedo knew better than to allow himself to be distracted by it.
‘If things needed to be big in order for you to care about them, I wouldn’t be here.’ he replied light-heartedly, referencing his height – or lack thereof.
‘You’re big in other places.’ Kaeya joked with a smug little grin, though a glare was quick to shut him up.
‘Don’t try and change the subject through humour or sex.’ Albedo reminded him. ‘Or worse, a combination thereof.’
Kaeya didn’t enjoy having his defences so easily dismantled, but didn’t argue about it either. Overtime, he’d come to accept that Albedo wouldn’t settle for anything but the truth, and there was little point in putting on a mask. He still slipped back into his flirtatious persona every now and then, but it had become easier for him to be vulnerable too, so Albedo didn’t hold it against him.
‘Tell me what’s on your mind.’ he told him softly.
‘I-…’ Kaeya started. ‘It’s kind of silly.’
‘It’s not silly to me if it’s having this kind of effect on you.’ Albedo reassured him.
‘I just-…’
‘Yes?’
‘You’ve been acting…secretive.’ Kaeya finally said. ‘Not in the “I think you’re cheating on me” kind of way, I mean. But you haven’t showed me your sketches lately even though you usually do. Like I said, it’s silly, though I couldn’t help but notice anyway.’
It seemed Albedo wasn’t the only observant one between them – something he knew, but needed to be reminded of every now and then – and Kaeya had noticed something off about his behaviour too. They both read each other like an open book; that wasn’t just a one-sided thing.
‘It’s not silly.’ Albedo assured him again. ‘You were right to notice. I haven’t showed you my sketches lately.’
‘I see.’ Kaeya replied, looking slightly relieved upon realising he wasn’t going mad. ‘Is there a particular reason for that?’
It wasn’t uncommon for artists to get into a slump either, resulting in less-than-productive drawing sessions, although the kind of block Kaeya was likely referring to wasn’t to blame this time.
‘Would you trust me if I told you it’s a surprise?’ Albedo asked him. ‘The pleasant kind.’
He himself didn’t like surprises much, which had on more than one occasion caused Kaeya to tell him about things beforehand just so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed, so it would only be fair to return the favour if he required it. Albedo wouldn’t actually mind giving him a heads-up about this if it made him feel better, but this seemed like one of those rare surprises that would actually be better if it wasn’t revealed early on.
Not only that, but he had no guarantee he’d even succeed, and he’d hate to make promises he couldn’t keep.
‘A surprise?’ Kaeya asked, thankfully looking quite understanding about the whole thing. ‘That’s…well, surprising. What’s the occasion?’
‘Does there need to be one?’
‘Not necessarily.’
Albedo gave him a small smile at that, and pressed a soft kiss against his lips to reassure him further.
‘Do you trust me?’ he asked. ‘I’ll still tell you if you want me to, though.’
‘With my life.’ Kaeya replied, mirroring the smile on Albedo’s face with one of his own. ‘And if I trust you with that, I’m pretty sure I can trust you to surprise me with something pleasant.’
‘High praise indeed.’ Albedo hummed. ‘Though the feeling is entirely mutual, of course.’
Now he just hoped he could live up to Kaeya’s expectations.
Aside from providing him with her own useful information, Rosaria had given Albedo something he might as well have considered the holy grail.
Asking around Mondstadt had been a great way of gathering descriptions of Crepus Ragnvindr, but aside from Kaeya and Diluc, there was one person in particular who’d be able to describe the man better than anyone. Someone who’d known him for many years, and was close to the family as well. Someone who didn’t visit Mondstadt very often because she was too busy looking after a certain grumpy winery owner.
Much like Rosaria had said, Adelinde was doing some grocery shopping in town that very afternoon.
Unlike his old family, Kaeya was happy to mention her occasionally. She sent him a letter every few weeks or so, and whenever she was brought up in conversation, Kaeya spoke of her fondly. They weren’t as close as they once had been – a result of no longer living under the same roof – but Kaeya seemed to trust her to a certain degree, which wasn’t something he did easily.
Albedo had a feeling that, should he ask her, she’d be happy to help.
‘Excuse me, Miss Adelinde?’
She’d been looking at some Sunsettia’s before he approached her, picking up each one as a quality-check before adding them to her basket, though she didn’t look too startled upon being addressed so suddenly.
When she turned around to face him, she greeted him with a warm smile, though she also gave him a good once-over. After a few seconds, she seemed to find what she’d been looking for, and greeted him in return.
‘I see, you must be Albedo.’ she said. ‘Kaeya has told me about you. Ah, only good things of course!’
‘That’s right, I am.’ Albedo confirmed, curious as to how she’d figured it out so quickly. ‘I’m flattered Kaeya has mentioned me to you.’
‘Well, it certainly took a bit of prying to get that out of him, but I could tell by his writing.’ she explained. ‘He suddenly sounded so much happier than he did before.’
Albedo couldn’t stop his cheeks from flushing ever so slightly at that particular comment, at which Adelinde gave him a knowing look.
‘My apologies, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.’ she quickly said. ‘It’s nice to finally meet you in person.’
‘Likewise, Miss.’
Adelinde nodded, then glanced in the direction of the fruit stall momentarily.
‘There’s…something I’d like to speak with you about, if you could spare the time.’ Albedo explained, not wishing to let this opportunity go to waste. The fact Kaeya had ensured he’d make a good impression on her worked in his favour now. ‘I’m trying to make something as a gift for Kaeya, and I could really use your help.’
This time, Adelinde did look mildly surprised, though it only lasted for a second or two. Without answering, she gestured for the vendor to come their way, paid for the wares, then turned her attention back to him.
‘Let’s walk for a bit, shall we?’
Albedo didn’t need to be told twice, and quickly followed after her.
‘What kind of gift are we talking about, then?’ Adelinde asked as she made her way through the city.
For someone who didn’t go there often, she clearly knew her way around, making Albedo think it hadn’t always been like that.
‘The “church bells ringing in the distance” kind, or something more casual?’
For the second time since speaking with her, Albedo felt his cheeks heat up, which made Adelinde chuckle.
‘No need to be shy about it, dear.’ she reassured him. ‘I’m just teasing.’
‘I do hope to present Kaeya with that kind of gift, sometime in the future.’ Albedo admitted. ‘For now though, I fear it’s something very different. I know it’s presumptuous of me to ask, but could I ask you not to tell Master Diluc about this?’
Adelinde didn’t reply right away, giving the request some thought before making a decision.
‘I make no promises.’ she finally said, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes. ‘If Master Diluc specifically asks me what gift Master Kaeya’s lover intends to give him, I will have no choice but to answer truthfully. Should he not ask me in such a straightforward manner however, then I suppose he needn’t know.’
The hint of a smile played around her lips at those words, which reassured Albedo enough to continue. She seemed every bit as kind as Kaeya had made her out to be, and then some.
‘I don’t mean to pry, so please forgive my bluntness, but Kaeya mentioned something about a family portrait that had been lost.’ he said, albeit hesitantly. He didn’t know how well she would take the fact he was accusing her current master of such destructive behaviour, even if indirectly. Just because she’d been understanding up until now didn’t guarantee anything. ‘It’s impossible to retrieve that which is lost, but I thought, at the very least, I might try and make him a similar painting. He spoke rather fondly of it.’
‘I see.’ Adelinde murmured, her expression a lot more solemn now. ‘I’m fairly certain I recall the painting you speak of, yes.’
‘Like I said, I don’t mean to pry.’ Albedo repeated. ‘It’s not my place to judge, or to make assumptions. I only hope to give someone I cherish a meaningful gift, even if it won’t be the same.’
‘Someone who just so happens to be rather closed off and secretive?’ Adelinde mused. ‘I practically raised that boy, I know how stubborn he can be.’
For good reason, Albedo thought, though he had a feeling Adelinde already knew that. She didn’t seem to hold it against Kaeya, rather looking for ways to dismantle whatever walls he’d built for himself with careful precision instead.
‘They’re similar in that regard.’ she added when he didn’t answer quickly enough. ‘They’ve always been similar, like twins even, although I wasn’t sure how much that still rang true today. I don’t know whether to be sad or pleased to know not much has changed.’
She didn’t need to specify who she meant for Albedo to understand anyway.
‘I’m afraid he hasn’t given me much to go on.’ he carefully told her. ‘As much as it frustrates me to admit it, painting someone I have never met is turning out to be nigh-impossible.’
‘And of course, you can ask neither Kaeya nor Diluc about it directly.’ Adelinde deduced. ‘You’ve gotten yourself into quite the predicament, Mr Albedo.’
‘Just Albedo is fine, please.’
‘Mh…my point still stands.’ Adelinde said. ‘You’re trying to do something kind, and they’re making things awfully complicated. If only they would just communicate properly for once…they rarely fought as children, you know? Seeing them like this…ah, apologies. I am changing the subject.’
‘That’s quite alright, Miss Adelinde.’ Albedo told her. ‘Kaeya doesn’t speak of the past often. It’s nice to hear what he was like when he was younger.’
Adelinde nodded, and gave him a gentle smile.
‘I think I’m starting to understand why his letters started sounding so much happier since he met you.’ she told him. ‘You truly care for him a lot, don’t you?’
‘I do.’ Albedo replied with no hesitation whatsoever. ‘I care for him a great deal, which is why I want to give him something that will make him happy.’
‘It gladdens me to know we are both of the opinion a family portrait would indeed make him happy.’ Adelinde said. ‘Clearly, you understand him well. Master Diluc can be quite glum in contrast. He is of the opinion nothing about the past would make Master Kaeya happy at all, but that’s not quite true, is it? These boys have a soft spot for each other even now.’
‘Family can be complicated.’ Albedo replied. ‘But just because it’s complicated, doesn’t mean people can’t still care about each other. Family members may make the wrong decisions, and hurt each other, yet still crave each other’s company at the end of the day.’
‘Oh, I like you already.’ Adelinde hummed. ‘I’ll help in whatever way I can.’
‘Thank you, Miss Adelinde.’
‘Just Adelinde is fine.’ she said. ‘Now, I suppose you’ll be needing my descriptions of Master Crepus…’
By the end of the day, Albedo finally felt as though he’d gotten some useful descriptions for painting Crepus Ragnvindr. Out of everyone that had known him, Adelinde seemed to be one of the few who was able to recall what he looked like without a veil of sadness and grief.
Not only that, but she’d given him some sound advice.
If he wanted to paint Master Crepus as he truly was, perhaps he shouldn’t start by painting him at all. If he focussed on the man’s sons instead, and painted them first, he would undoubtedly end up joining them with a fond and loving expression on his face, rather than the sad one he seemed to be wearing in Albedo’s previous sketches.
In real life, perhaps Master Crepus’ stubborn pair of sons would finally manage to make up under his watchful gaze too.
Albedo had already considered the possibility of something like this happening.
If anything, he’d expected it to happen sooner. He’d been asking about Master Crepus around town a lot, and it wasn’t as if he’d been trying to be secretive about it exactly – not towards anyone but Kaeya, that is. Kaeya was more well-liked than he gave himself credit for, which meant most people were happy to help out without spilling a word to anyone else.
Albedo didn’t doubt Adelinde had kept her word either, although a man like Diluc undoubtedly had his sources.
For the other to corner him in an alley that day just so he could interrogate him was a foreseen turn of events, but not any less tedious for it.
‘What are you up to?’ Diluc asked him, voice strained as if trying not to reveal how frustrated he actually was – and failing. The other was terrible at hiding his emotions, and while there were many expressions Albedo didn’t quite manage to decipher most of the time, Diluc was easy to read. He wasn’t sure whether that was because him and Kaeya tried to hide their emotions in similar ways, or because that was just how he was.
‘Why have you been asking about my father?’
‘I assure you my intentions are pure.’ Albedo told him calmly. ‘I merely required information for a painting I’m working on, that is all.’
He’d thought long and hard about what to tell Diluc when he’d inevitably come asking – had even considered coming up with a lie so as to spare everyone’s feelings – but had eventually settled on simply telling him the truth.
It hadn’t been a question of whether if Diluc would find out, but when. Albedo could tell him he was doing research on former citizens of Mondstadt, or avoid the subject altogether, but he had a feeling that wouldn’t go over well. Diluc would find a way to twist his words, or blame Kaeya, or make all sorts of assumptions, and then a well-intended act of kindness would quickly turn into a catastrophe instead.
Judging by the handful of tales Kaeya had told him, Diluc was supposedly still in possession of a heart. That meant Albedo’s best chance was trusting that to be true, and to try and convince Diluc what he was doing was right. He’d never talk about his father with a stranger willingly, but if he truly did possess a heart, perhaps he’d let Albedo continue what he was doing at least.
‘Did Kaeya put you up to this?’
‘Kaeya has no knowledge of what I’m doing.’ Albedo replied. ‘And I’d like to keep it that way, considering it’s supposed to be a surprise.’
‘…A surprise, you say.’ Diluc murmured, crossing his arms in contemplation. ‘Of what nature?’
‘I’d like to gift him a painting.’ Albedo explained. ‘It came up the other day, and while he didn’t say much about the matter, I think I may be right in assuming the original painting he spoke of was lost. I want to try recreating it.’
He chose his words very carefully so as not to suggest Diluc was to blame. Even if he was, he doubted the other would be very cooperative upon having the finger pointed at him. The man had the temper of a Pyro and Electro slime locked in a room together.
‘Why go through all that effort?’ Diluc replied after a little while. He sounded less hostile than before, though he was still on his guard.
‘Because I care about him.’ came Albedo’s simple answer. ‘If there is anything I can do to make him happy, I intend to try.’
At those words, Diluc looked confused.
‘You think recreating that painting will make him happy.’ he stated, rather than asked. Judging by his reaction, he knew exactly what painting they were talking about, and couldn’t fathom why seeing it once more would make Kaeya happy.
Had Albedo not been so thorough with his research, he might have taken that as a sign he’d misunderstood. A sign that Kaeya might not appreciate the gesture after all, and he would be better off leaving the past buried.
Albedo had been thorough with research though, which made him think it was Diluc who misjudged the reaction Kaeya would have, not the other way around. Even Adelinde had agreed with him, and she’d known both of them longer – and better – than anyone.
‘I do.’ Albedo replied. ‘Just because a person doesn’t talk about their past a lot, doesn’t mean they wished it never happened. Wouldn’t you agree, Master Diluc?’
The silence that followed carried on for so long it almost bordered on uncomfortable, though it was Diluc who eventually broke it first.
‘Do you really think that painting will make Kaeya happy?’
This time, the man’s words weren’t spoken like an accusation. They were spoken anxiously, as if desperately wishing for them to be true, but not daring to hope so, let alone be honest about such a vulnerability.
Albedo was beginning to suspect masking one’s feelings was a trait that ran in the family.
‘I do.’ he confirmed again. ‘He’s more sentimental than you give him credit for. Unfortunately, he also shares your own level of stubbornness. No offence.’
‘That’s-…’ Diluc started, before letting out a sigh. ‘None taken. You’re right, after all.’
‘I usually am.’ Albedo replied. ‘I try not to rely on early theories and assumptions. As an alchemist, thorough research makes all the difference.’
To anyone else, such a comment may have sounded like a humble brag. Something to stroke his own ego, or prove his genius. Albedo had no interest in such things, however. All he wanted was for Diluc to believe him – for Diluc to know that he didn’t just assume a family portrait would make Kaeya happy; he’d done his research well enough to be certain of it.
After a few more seconds of silence, Diluc finally seemed to have made up his mind.
‘You should come by Dawn Winery later.’ he said. ‘I might have something useful for you.’
Albedo tried not to let his surprise show – he’d expected this outcome to require more effort – and instead gave him a grateful little smile.
‘Thank you, Master Diluc.’
It seemed Kaeya wasn’t the only one who secretly craved a reconciliation after all.
Albedo had already suspected the “something useful” Diluc had mentioned would be something along the lines of old photographs – he just hadn’t expected there to be this many.
While most paintings had been lost – Diluc had admitted to that himself – these boxes filled with photographs had been mostly spared from the flames. There were about three cardboard boxes in total, about the size of a small briefcase or drawer, and Diluc had handed them to him with surprising ease.
Albedo had expected them to be more hesitant about the whole thing, or at the very least, assumed the other would want to sort through them first. Wanting to maintain a sense of privacy was only natural, even if the circumstances hadn’t been so grim.
Except Diluc had admitted he couldn’t bear to look at them. Only one out of three boxes had been opened since that night, and they hadn’t been touched since. So long as Albedo promised to return them, and to treat the content of these boxes with utmost care, he could use them however he deemed fit.
It was entirely unlike the Diluc he knew, but if this meant he’d be able to make something meaningful for Kaeya, Albedo supposed he wouldn’t question it.
Diluc’s emotions were easy to read, but his intentions less so. Despite the grumpy façade he put on, it seemed like he was actually quite the sentimental person. One who wanted his brother to be happy even if he’d never admit it out loud – let alone admit to trying to contribute to said happiness.
Once again, Albedo didn’t question it.
As he went through the photographs with the care that he’d promised and then some, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding still.
The first box he went through contained photographs with very few humans in them at all. They were mostly bird photos, although there was the occasional photo of a woman Albedo didn’t recognize. Judging by their age, Albedo suspected these were photographs Master Crepus himself had taken, perhaps in his younger years.
Deciding there wasn’t much material he could use in there, he carefully closed it again, and put it to the side. Even if Diluc had given him permission, it felt rude to pry when he knew it was merely out of curiosity rather than actual research.
As Albedo moved on to the second box, his suspicions about the woman were confirmed almost right away. Some of the photographs in this box had a frame around them, the first of which being a wedding photo of Master Crepus and the same woman he had seen in previous photos.
They were smiling brightly in a way that was unusual for most nobles, especially when it came to wedding photos. Arranged, loveless marriages were all too common – Albedo vaguely recalled Amber complaining about Eula’s parents at some point – so it was somewhat refreshing to see Crepus Ragnvindr had married for love. It told Albedo a lot about the kind of man he was, which was exactly the kind of thing he’d been looking for.
There were several more wedding photos, and then some photographs with groups of people Albedo only recognized on occasion. There was one of a young-looking Grand Master Varka, and a woman that looked so much like Jean there was no doubt as to who she was. Then there was a photograph of Diluc’s mother and a young Adelinde, sitting together like old friends, rather than a servant and her master.
More photographs of Diluc’s mother followed, a small bump visible on her stomach that seemed to grow larger in each of them, likely from when she was pregnant with Diluc.
And then suddenly, the photographs of the woman stopped.
Albedo knew Diluc’s mother had died young, but for it to have been captured like this made it feel all the more real. Human life was fleeting, and could be snuffed out in the blink of an eye – these photographs were a reminder of that. For all the happiness they conveyed, they also served as a reminder nothing could last forever.
Once a person was gone, the photographs would stop too. The only thing that remained were the blurry images in people’s memories, and even those would fade over time.
It was perhaps the reason why Albedo enjoyed making art so much – regardless of how many years someone had been gone already, they could be captured in a painting so long as someone remembered them well enough.
The photographs that followed seemed bleak when compared to the ones that came before, as if the death of his wife had sucked all the life from Master Crepus. Only when photos of a baby Diluc started appearing did they shimmer with that feeling of happiness once more.
There weren’t as many photographs as before, making Albedo suspect the loss of his muse had left a lasting effect on Master Crepus after all, but the ones that were there seemed to be a collection of fond memories. There was one of Adelinde holding baby Diluc, and then one of Diluc proudly holding out a small bird in his hands.
For a while, there were hardly any photographs with humans in them at all. As with the first box, Master Crepus seemed to have picked up his hobby of photographing birds once more.
When Albedo realized he’d looked at all the photographs this box had to offer, he quietly moved on to the last one. The one Diluc had opened before, and the one that had made him realize he couldn’t bear to look at these old photos anymore.
Upon opening the box, Albedo could understand why.
This box didn’t start out with photographs at all, but rather, a number of children’s drawings. Drawings of pirates, sea shells, flowers, birds, and one with stick figures and the misspelled word “family” written above it in a vibrant shade of blue.
Albedo felt as though something was holding his heart in a vice grip, and once again wondered if it was truly okay to look at these things. It wasn’t his place. It wasn’t his story to tell, nor read.
Knowing Diluc was aware of this box’s contents however, he already knew the answer. The man had given this to him while knowing full well what he’d find. It seemed that, even if he couldn’t bear to look at them himself, Diluc didn’t want these memories to be lost entirely.
That was telling in its own way, too.
Deciding to honour the other’s wish, Albedo continued. He put the drawings on a neat pile next to the box, then smiled fondly when he found the first photograph of Diluc and Kaeya together as children – if only half of Kaeya’s face being visible counted, anyway. Kaeya looked awfully camera shy – something that seemed almost unthinkable nowadays – but Diluc had seemed adamant to drag him into frame.
More photographs followed, although they were mostly sceneries. Perhaps Master Crepus had respected Kaeya’s boundary of not wishing to be photographed, and had captured their memories in a different manner instead.
A blurry photo of Master Crepus himself came next, clearly taken by a less experienced hand, but not any less endearing for it. Then there were photographs of a pile of sea shells, a sandcastle, and one sneakily taken photo of a young Kaeya when he hadn’t been paying attention.
Albedo had a feeling Diluc had managed to get a hold of Master Crepus’ Kamera, and had made the most of it while he could.
There was one photograph where they had seemingly discovered most Kameras had a timer on them, for Diluc, Kaeya and Master Crepus were all in frame together. The latter’s face had blurred almost entirely, and the angle was far from perfect, but it was the best reference imaginable for a the family portrait Albedo intended to make, so he put it to the side anyway.
The next photos Albedo found weren’t photos of Master Crepus’ family or fancy birds at all, and seemed almost out of place. They were vastly different in nature, and seemed to have been taken secretly, in places where taking photos would not usually be allowed.
A meeting room with masked people that looked suspiciously much like the Fatui, some photos of illegible documents, and then a photograph that seemed to have captured some kind of strange, red light – oversaturated to the point the only thing Albedo could make out was the outline of some kind of chain.
They were odd, and made little sense to him, so Albedo returned them to the box wordlessly, and flipped through the last of the photos. He wouldn’t let curiosity get the better of him this time; he was here to offer Kaeya a happy memory, not rub salt into old wounds.
Amongst the remaining photos, there were more sceneries, more birds, and then finally, another photograph of Diluc and Kaeya as teenagers. This final photo was one of the two boys in their Knight uniforms, looking mildly embarrassed upon having their photo taken, but also looking proud for having achieved knighthood.
Then, the photographs stopped.
Much like with the photographs of Diluc’s mother, the absence of any photos served as a grim reminder that Crepus Ragnvindr was gone, and with it, any chance of making memories with him.
Despite knowing the outcome already and having been prepared for all the tragedy it entailed, Albedo couldn’t help but feel like his heart was breaking.
For Kaeya, who had lost his family not once, but twice.
For Diluc, who’d allowed grief to consume him and didn’t seem to know how to return from it.
For Master Crepus, who had clearly loved his sons, but hadn’t been able to stick around for as long as they’d needed him.
For Master Crepus’ wife, who’d never gotten to meet her sons at all.
It was easy to see why the memory of Crepus Ragnvindr had been tainted with grief among the citizens of Mondstadt. Even without the brothers’ falling out, there was tragedy to be found in their history.
When not looking closely enough, it was easy to see photographs of everything that could have been. Of memories lost, lives taken, and the broken family that had been left behind as a result.
Having learned a little about what kind of man Crepus Ragnvindr was however, Albedo sincerely doubted that’s how he would want to be remembered.
As an artist, it was his job to capture his subjects in a way that would reflect their true selves. Instead of taking pity on the people in these photographs – and allowing his vision to be clouded by a veil of grief and sadness, as with so many others – he needed to ensure the people left behind had something to cherish.
Painting such a portrait would not be an easy task, but Albedo was up for the challenge.
Albedo wouldn’t deny he felt the slightest bit nervous when the time came to reveal the finished portrait to Kaeya.
No matter how certain he’d been the other would appreciate the gesture, and no matter how decent he thought his painting skills were, he couldn’t help but feel worried about his reaction.
Kaeya meant the world to him. If his actions somehow hurt someone he so dearly cared about, it would be no different from him selfishly plucking the stars from their spot in the sky. He wanted to make the other feel loved, not upset him.
When a soft knock came from the door to his studio, Albedo ignored the minor heart-attack it caused him, and hurried to go open it.
‘Kaeya.’ he breathed out.
‘Am I too early?’
‘No, no it’s…’ Albedo murmured, glancing at the thin sheet covering the portrait. There was no use in postponing this. ‘Please, come in.’
Kaeya looked just about as nervous as he was, although it was the curious, excited kind of nervous rather than the anxious kind. That at least was a good sign.
With a small smile, Albedo took the other’s hand and led him towards the canvas.
‘A painting?’ Kaeya asked softly.
‘Yes, a painting.’ Albedo confirmed. ‘I was inspired some time ago, but it took some thorough preparations in order to finish.’
‘I do hope you didn’t go through too much trouble for my sake.’ Kaeya mused, clearly having forgotten their little chat at the Knights Headquarters. It had been a mere comment in passing, likely nothing memorable to Kaeya himself, but to Albedo, the words had made a lasting impact. It had been the slightest crumbling of those defensive walls, revealing what he truly felt. Albedo could only hope his gift would ease that suffering just the slightest bit.
‘No trouble is too big when it concerns you.’ Albedo stated plainly, before noticing Kaeya’s concerned expression and choosing a different phrasing. ‘I didn’t do anything excessive, I promise. It’s just…something I really wanted to do for you.’
Not too long ago, Kaeya might have said something along the lines of “I don’t deserve you”. It was usually a harmless phrase, but coming from Kaeya, who often truly did feel undeserving of things, Albedo knew the weight those words truly carried. He’d made it abundantly clear Kaeya was more than deserving, and had urged him to stop making such self-deprecating comments. If not for his own sake, then because Albedo disliked hearing them.
Right now, it left Kaeya at a loss for words.
‘I…see.’ he finally muttered, his cheeks flushing red ever so slightly, but enough for Albedo to notice. ‘Thank you.’
‘I haven’t even showed you the finished piece yet.’ Albedo chuckled, before nervously taking a hold of the fabric covering it.
‘No, but I know I’ll be grateful for it anyway.’
When Albedo finally dared to pull the fabric off and reveal the portrait he’d made, he could only hope those words would end up being true. He was unable to tell whether the gasp Kaeya let out was a positive one or not, and anxiously waited for the silence to fade.
During his preparations, Albedo had made a number of discoveries.
First and foremost, he’d come to the conclusion Crepus Ragnvindr had loved his sons dearly. It was a rather obvious observation of course, but not any less important for it. Adelinde’s comment about drawing his sons first, and Crepus automatically joining them with a smile on his face shortly after, had helped immensely in painting this final piece.
Secondly, Albedo had found said sons had cared about each other a great deal, once upon a time – and no matter how much they claimed otherwise, still cared about each other in their own eccentric ways now. It wasn’t as obvious an observation as the previous one, but upon noticing, it was impossible to miss.
No matter how much tragedy they’d endured, how much grief they’d experienced, and even how many snide comments they’d made towards each other, Kaeya and Diluc simply wanted things to be okay. They didn’t know how to actually make it so, not without their father’s guidance, but they desperately wanted it to be.
Kaeya, who reminisced about the past when he thought no one was listening, and longed to reconcile with a man who was far from kind to him.
Diluc, who put on a cold and heartless façade, yet gladly offered a near-stranger his only childhood photos in hopes of making his brother happy.
Instead of attempting to recreate the lost family portrait Kaeya had spoken of, Albedo had tried making an entirely new portrait. One that would offer a sense of hope, rather than despair over all that had been lost. There was no point in emphasising the fact things weren’t as they used to be.
If Kaeya and Diluc wanted to look at old childhood memories – memories of a bond they had once shared in a distant past, but didn’t any longer – they had a number of photographs to fulfil that exact need. The photographs weren’t perfect, but that was part of their charm.
If Kaeya and Diluc wanted to reminisce about the past while also considering a brighter future, Albedo hoped his painting would suffice. It was an image no photograph could ever capture.
Instead of painting the two brothers as they would have been when the original painting was made, he’d painted them as they were now. He’d painted their current selves standing side by side, under the watchful but gentle gaze of their father. A father who would undoubtedly have been proud of all they’d achieved – but would also want them to resolve things.
Of course their painted selves looked far closer and on better terms than they really did right now, but perhaps it served as a promise of everything that potentially could be.
‘Oh.’ Kaeya finally whispered after what felt like hours.
Only now did Albedo realise Kaeya had started crying.
‘Oh.’ he brought out as well, his heart locked in an icy cold grip. ‘Kaeya, are you—’
‘It’s beautiful.’
And just like that, whatever had been keeping hold of Albedo’s heart melted away.
‘It’s beautiful.’ Kaeya said again, wiping at his face in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing. It was a futile attempt; he couldn’t wipe them away faster than the new ones appeared. ‘How did you…? It’s so-…?’
‘I had some help.’ Albedo told him softly, before taking a careful step forward. If Kaeya needed him, he’d be there. If Kaeya needed his space, he’d leave him be.
‘How?’ Kaeya breathed out, making the decision for him and closing the distance so he could pull him into a tight hug.
‘There are a lot of people who care about you.’ Albedo said. ‘I know you don’t always believe that, but there are. All I had to do was ask, and they were more than willing to help.’
‘Oh.’ Kaeya whispered, burying his face in the fabric of Albedo’s coat.
Albedo didn’t mind one bit, and only held him tighter.
‘How did you know what to paint?’ Kaeya carefully broke the silence after a while.
‘You mentioned a family portrait some time ago.’ Albedo replied. ‘I knew I couldn’t get back that exact painting, not even if I tried recreating it, but…I hoped this would be an acceptable replacement.’
‘It’s perfect.’ Kaeya said. ‘I didn’t expect you to-…oh.’
Upon noticing the way Kaeya tensed, Albedo couldn’t help but panic slightly.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s-…’ Kaeya stammered. ‘Diluc.’ he said, as if that was a logical answer all by itself. It kind of was, but Albedo needed a bit more context to fully understand the other’s concerns in this case.
‘Diluc…?’
‘Diluc is in the painting.’ he said, pulling away enough so they could face each other, but not enough to break the hug entirely. ‘He won’t appreciate me having his face on my wall.’
The words took a moment to sink in, but once they did, Albedo quickly shook his head, and gave Kaeya the most reassuring smile he could muster.
‘He knows.’ he said. ‘He helped. He consented to the whole thing, gave me photographs as a reference—’
‘Diluc agreed to this?’ Kaeya gasped.
‘He was a bit wary at first, I admit.’ Albedo said truthfully. ‘But after explaining my plans to him, he offered to help, all on his own accord. He’s among the people that care about you, too.’
Just when Kaeya’s tears had finally dried a little, a whole new waterfall of them came flooding from his eyes.
‘Oh.’
‘I think you two should talk sometime.’ Albedo murmured, before pulling Kaeya into another hug.
A single conversation wouldn’t be enough to resolve years’ worth of trauma, but it would be the start of something, at the very least. Perhaps his painting could serve as a catalyst for an eventual reconciliation. Perhaps, art was capable of moving even the most stubborn of people.
‘Do you think he’ll listen?’ Kaeya asked, his voice small and uncertain.
The Diluc they knew today wasn’t the same person as the boy in those photographs, so Albedo didn’t want to draw any hasty conclusions. He wanted to comfort Kaeya, not tell him pretty lies just to make him feel better.
The one thing he did know for certain however, was the fact Diluc still cared about Kaeya. Despite his attitude, he longed for things to be okay between them the same way Kaeya did.
He wouldn’t have given him those photographs if he didn’t want something to change.
‘I think he’ll try.’ Albedo finally said.
‘That’s enough.’ Kaeya whispered, clutching at Albedo’s coat and holding him as if he feared he might disappear if he let go. ‘That’s enough for me. I’ll try too.’
‘He’ll appreciate that.’
They remained like that for what felt like hours, Kaeya staring at the portrait while they hugged, and Albedo comforting him in whatever way he could in the meantime.
‘Thank you.’ he said after a while. ‘Thank you, for everything.’
If it meant making Kaeya happy, Albedo would have painted a hundred paintings.
‘You’re welcome, my heart.’
Neither Diluc nor Adelinde seemed very surprised when Albedo dropped by to deliver the boxes of photographs a few days later.
He’d considered giving them a heads-up, but had eventually figured that would just make the whole thing seem more formal than necessary. He was only here to return what he’d borrowed, and offer his gratitude to them if the opportunity presented itself.
As Adelinde led him towards Diluc’s office, she gave him a knowing smile.
‘I take it he liked the painting?’
‘He did.’ Albedo replied with a grateful smile. ‘Thanks again for your help.’
‘It was no trouble at all.’ Adelinde said. ‘You seem to have a good influence on both of them. It would be an honour to welcome you into the family at some point.’
‘You’re very keen on that marriage proposal, aren’t you?’ Albedo asked with slightly flushed cheeks. He could try hiding behind the boxes he was carrying, but she likely already knew.
‘It’s been some time since I last attended a wedding.’ Adelinde mused. ‘Can you blame a girl for wanting something to look forward to?’
He had a feeling there was more to it than that – she wanted both Kaeya and Diluc to have good things in life, like a parent would want for their children – but he decided to take it as a compliment, rather than a way to embarrass him. If she considered him to be something good, then he’d be honoured to accept that role.
‘Well, I’ll leave you two to it.’ she hummed, knocking on Diluc’s office door and letting him know he had a visitor. Upon getting the okay, she opened it for him, then bowed and took her leave. He almost wished she’d stay, but then he didn’t know how Diluc would respond, so perhaps it was better this way.
When Albedo entered, Diluc was sitting behind his desk in such a well-prepared manner it would almost suggest he’d been anticipating this.
‘Good afternoon, Master Diluc.’ he greeted him.
‘Just Diluc, please.’ Diluc replied. ‘It’s good to see you.’
The man was fidgeting with his gloves as if nervous, though upon realizing he’d been caught, he gestured for Albedo to put the boxes down on his desk. Either to be polite and prevent him from having to carry them unnecessarily long, or so he could hide behind them, Albedo didn’t know.
‘I came to return these.’ Albedo explained. ‘Thank you for letting me borrow them.’
‘Were they of use to you?’
‘They were of great help.’ he replied. ‘I don’t think I would have been able to get the same kind of results without them.’
‘I see.’ Diluc said, his expression a combination of relieved and pleased. He absentmindedly ran his hand over one of the boxes, longingly, as if he acknowledged them as something treasurable, though he still seemed hesitant to actually open them. ‘I’m glad.’
‘You and Adelinde are welcome to come look at the final piece sometime.’ Albedo added. He’d discussed it with Kaeya before coming here – this had been his gift first and foremost – and while the other had been a little nervous about it, he did consider it a good idea.
‘I-…’ Diluc muttered, retracting his hand. ‘I don’t know about that.’
‘Kaeya would like you to see it too.’
‘…is that so?’
Albedo nodded, then reached for the bag he’d brought.
‘On that note, I must repay your generosity in some way. While I acknowledge these photographs are cause for complicated feelings, they are undoubtedly of great value to you still.’
‘That’s—’
‘It would be a shame if they dusted away in these boxes, don’t you think?’ Albedo continued. As he talked, he pulled an empty photo album from his bag, and put it on Diluc’s desk as well, right next to the boxes.
‘Oh.’
‘Looking at the contents of these boxes can’t be easy for you.’ Albedo said. ‘I completely understand why you didn’t continue after the first box, and I will not hold it against you if you decide to store them away for many years to come.’
When Diluc didn’t reply right away, he deemed it safe to continue.
‘But perhaps you’d consider going through them with…others at your side. Perhaps, if you don’t have to look at these memories all by yourself, they won’t be as painful.’
He didn’t specify whom he meant by “others”, deeming the subject a little too sensitive when he was already walking on such thin ice, though he hoped the hint was clear anyway. Kaeya would love to learn about people he’d once called family, and he didn’t doubt Adelinde would appreciate the memories as well.
Diluc’s gaze drifted towards the boxes on his desk, then to the empty photo album, and he swallowed thickly. He was considering it.
‘Consider it my gift to you.’ Albedo finally said. ‘Now it’s up to you to decide on how to use it.’
And with that, he took his leave, wondering if the strained “thank you” he heard moments before closing the door behind himself had been his imagination or not.
Epilogue
‘Hello, Master Ragnvindr.’ Albedo said awkwardly as he approached the grave, holding a small package in his hands as he did. ‘It’s unfortunate we never got to meet, but I did have the honour of meeting your sons.’
Someone must have moved to hold an umbrella over his head then, for the raindrops falling from the sky no longer reached him, though he tried to remain focussed on the matter at hand.
‘I hope you’d approve of me being…enamoured with one of them.’ he added. Neither “seeing” nor “courting” seemed to do their relationship any justice, so he opted for a word he hoped a man like Crepus would appreciate.
‘I wish I could have asked you for his hand properly.’ he said, before unwrapping the package he was holding and placing its contents on the stone grave. He’d made sure to put it in a glass cover so it wouldn’t be tarnished by harsh weather conditions. ‘It’s not much, but I hope this will do instead. I seem to have found myself in a gift-giving mood lately, so it seems only appropriate I offer you one as well.’
Looking at the small portrait he’d painted of Crepus Ragnvindr and his wife, Albedo wondered what he’d think of it. Wondered if he’d like it.
‘Thank you for raising your sons into the people they are today.’ he concluded, then moved to stand up.
Kaeya moved to stand next to him immediately, taking a firm hold of his hand, and Diluc moved so the umbrella he’d been holding over Albedo would cover them both. Adelinde then moved to cover Diluc with an umbrella as well, giving him a stern look that indicated this was not the first time he’d been stubborn about using one.
‘He’d have approved of you tenfold.’ she then told Albedo, a warm smile on her face as she looked at him.
‘I concur.’ Diluc added. ‘We wouldn’t be standing here right now, if not for you.’
‘Eventually, you would have, I think.’ Albedo said. ‘In ten years or so, give or take.’
‘Only ten?’ Kaeya mused. ‘I didn’t take you for such an optimist.’
‘We should get back inside before either of you catches a cold.’ Adelinde interrupted, and no one dared to disagree.
When the clouds parted and allowed for the first sunrays to filter through, none of them questioned it.
Albedo could swear it was supposed to have rained all day, but he must have misremembered; his mind was too preoccupied by what painting to make next.