Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Crepus had found Kaeya all those years ago, that fateful stormy night, the boy had close to nothing on him. 

He really might have missed him, if it weren’t for his horseman’s keen eyes pointing out the strange moving lump blended into the shadows, and his own nature to investigate odd things. 

Such a small child, huddled underneath the tree—soaked to the bone, with clothes that seemed two sizes too big for him sticking to his skin. 

When he first approached, the boy startled, pressed his back against the sodden bark of the tree trunk and frozen in place, much like a spooked animal. He flinched as thunder rumbled in the background, but the brief flashes of lightning crackling across the sky illuminated his features, enough for Crepus to observe his appearance. 

He took in his tanned complexion, the pale coloured streaks in his dark hair, and his single exposed eye—an abnormal one at that, unlike any he’s ever seen, with a diamond pupil and a piercing, albeit frightened, gaze that seemed to reach into his soul.

It was very much like during the making of this boy, the Heavens had plucked a star off the sky and adorned him with it; or perhaps, Celestia had held the very stardust in Her hand and breathed life into it, shaping from it a mortal soul. Either way, Crepus knew one thing for sure: this boy was not of their world.

See, Crepus was no inexperienced man. In his lifetime, he had taken no small amount of expeditions across Teyvvat’s various nations, from Liyue to Sumeru; in his younger years, he’d even risked a small traipse into Sneczhnaya. Yet, in none of his many, many extensive travels had he ever met anyone quite like this boy.

No, he’d known right away: this child was no local, certainly not of Mondstadt, nor Liyue, nevermind Sumeru, or any of the Seven existing regions of Teyvat.

Briefly, he wondered which side of the coin the tale fell on: was such a seemingly innocent child expelled from the Gods’ otherworldly realm for committing some unspeakable crime and invoking their wrath? Or was he personally delivered into their world with a divine purpose, a prophecy to fulfill, a life predetermined?

It was only the crashing of the storm that prompted him to set all these thoughts aside for later. 

“What are you doing all alone out here in the middle of a storm, boy? Where are your parents?”

“...father said he’d come back for me…he said he’d bring me grape juice…he said……” his quiet voice trails off in the harsh rainfall.

Crepus sighed. He had a sneaking suspicion the poor child’s father was not, in fact, coming back, and he suspected the boy himself was beginning to figure that out as well, with how much uncertainty coloured his words. A mixture of disgust, anger and sympathy rose up in his chest.

He thought of his own son, probably curled up in an armchair by the fireplace back home, thought of leaving him out in the rain all alone, lies on his tongue, never coming back for him, and his stomach lurched. How any parent could abandon their own child was beyond him.

“I see...Tell me, what is your name?”

“......Kaeya. Kaeya Alberich.”

Then he looked into this child’s eye, so different from theirs, so foreign to them, but all he saw was the reflection of his son looking back at him, and it pained him so.

No, this certainly wouldn’t do. He could not bear to leave him out here.

“...come,” he said, kneeling down, opening his arms and beckoning at him.

He picked up the shivering boy, the same way he drew Diluc into his arms, settled him against his chest, his head resting on his shoulder—too small, too light, he didn’t look any younger than Diluc, but surely his son wasn’t this easy to carry, and even young Elzer, sickly as he was, had more weight to him than...this.

The boy stiffened, but ultimately caved to the warmth of another person. Then Crepus draped his coat over him, and luckily, Markus knew him well enough to set off for home with no further delay.

“Welcome home, Master Crepus.”

Adelinde opened the door, quickly ushering them in, with no probing questions past the slightest raise of an eyebrow at the boy in his arms, bless her.

“A rather sudden downpour, wouldn’t you agree Adelinde?” He chuckled, gently setting Kaeya down, tugging the wet coat from around Kaeya’s small frame and handing it to her.

“Indeed, sir. Did you encounter any trouble?” Her gaze flickered to Kaeya.

“Nothing of the sort, my dear. A fine trip, if not for the turn in weather near the end. And much like this storm I know it’s rather sudden, but I must ask of you to help our young guest settle in. He’ll be staying for the night, of course, so do have the guest room readied as well. Oh, and draw a warm bath for us, will you?”

“Right away, Master Crepus.”

Quickly, she called the maids over, and soon they were fluttering around with fluffy towels in hand. He smiled reassuringly at Kaeya, handing him off to them, and they guided him further into the manor. 

Letting down his own dripping hair, he wrung the water from it. Adelinde handed him a towel, and he grabbed one more, murmuring a word of thanks. Toweling his hair with one hand, he cleared his throat gently.

“Ah, and Markus,” he called out, huffing in amusement at the way the lad freezes in his step, caught in his attempt to slip away without any fuss.

He tossed the other towel at him. The young man caught it, hands fumbling, eyes wide—and really, shouldn’t all his employees know by now what kind of man he is?

“Come now, you didn’t think I’d forget about you so easily, did you? Trudging around the house drenched in rainwater, why poor Adelinde might have a fit over the carpet,” He scolded light-heartedly. Poor lad flushed red immediately, bowing and muttering some string of apologies, Crepus couldn’t help but laugh.

“I jest, I jest. You did good work today. You’ll have tomorrow off so don’t worry about coming in. And help yourself to some fine cider from the cellar now, will you? That ought to warm you up right away, and you’ve more than earned it today.”

“You’re too kind, sir!” Markus stares at him, alarmed, but Crepus waves his hand lightly.

“Nonsense, wouldn’t want you catching a cold now, would we? Trust you know how to get properly warmed up on your own, so I’ll leave you to it, but you’re welcome to sit by the fire for a little. Rest well now.”

“T-Thank you, Master Crepus, have a good night!” The young man bowed sheepishly one more time before scurrying off. 

Crepus sighed dramatically, draping the towel around his shoulders.

“It’s as if I’d bite his head off. Tell me, Adelinde, am I that intimidating?”

“Not at all, sir. The Ragnvindr clan name has always been highly reputable, but even without it Mondstadt’s citizens hold you in high regard. They have great admiration and respect for you, I am sure it is the same with him.”

And what a charmingly polished answer to a question asked in total unseriousness.

How completely like her.

“That’s over-selling it a little, don’t you think?” 

“I’d beg to differ, sir, the people revere you,” she replies, deadpan. “Besides, with your immense wealth, power, reputation, and charms, I think some people might be frightened by the prospect of one man having it all. Such success is surely beyond their comprehension.”

And it was truly beyond his comprehension how she could deliver such flattery in a completely clinical manner. It might as well be rehearsed.

“Dear Adelinde, you never fail to surprise me.”

“I strive to impress, sir.” Such a flat indifferent tone to such appraising words, were it anyone other than her, it’d be odd. Instead, it drew a laugh from him.

“I don’t doubt it. Now, about the child,” he lowered his voice, Adelinde falling into step next to him as they ascended the stairs up towards his quarters, “his name is Kaeya Alberich. We found him by the roadside, all alone in the storm, poor lad. According to the boy, his...Father left him there, having left to find grape juice of all things for him. Claimed he would return, but by the looks of it that’s an unlikely story, abandoned might be the more appropriate term.” 

His tongue soured around his words, bitter in his mouth. Such a man should not be considered a Father at all, abandonment...

How downright sickening.

“What will you do, Master Crepus?”

What will he do? Well, with the eloquence of an esteemed businessman over a winery, the winery championing the wine industry currently dominating Mondstadt’s economics, and selling their prided wine to other regions in a subtle move to strengthen interregional relationships, he opened his mouth and-

Closed it right back again because he had absolutely no idea whatsoever on what he was going to do moving forward.

“Master Crepus, might I suggest you have greater consideration towards the future before taking in every child you encounter in your journeys, picking children off the streets-”

“Alright now first of all, no. Secondly!” He said hurriedly, hearing the protest on the tip of her tongue,“I definitely took immense consideration on the future and its consequences. I told you to prepare the guest room, didn’t I? That would be impossible without foresight or future considerations. Just perhaps...maybe not quite far enough.” 

He scratched at his head, flashing a grin at Adelinde. His head housemaid only sighed wearily, burying her face in her hands.

“And thirdly, I most certainly do not go around, wh-...picking children off the streets. You make it sound as if I’m some creep preying on the young ones. It’s not as if I adopt every child I find.”

At that, she raised her head, levelling him with a flat look.

“Elzer is a unique case. His Mother is ill and his Father is out of the picture, and he’s always thinking about his Mother but Archons above he should think about himself too. He’s always so busy taking care of his Mother, that boy never remembers to take care of himself. Someone has to, think about his growth! After all, he’s still just a boy, he shouldn’t have to work himself sick. It was merely a gracious, well-paying job offer to an honest, hardworking lad, that’s all.”

She stared at him disbelievingly.

“...with the occasional dinner and stayover, nothing to it.”

He knew what she was thinking. Half the time he shooed the boy off to play with his son instead of working, and oftentimes let him have dinner along with them, but still tried to pay him additional. Elzer usually refused, but ended up crumbling under his incessancy, accepting the money with some dozen or so word of thanks.

But that was all just in good nature. It didn’t necessarily mean anything, he was just extending kindness where it’s due, as he had explained before, countless times to her. It just never seemed to get through.

“...Right,” she said, unconvinced, and Crepus opted against trying again for now. “And this boy?”

In his mind, the tiny shivering figure pressed against a tree swam into view. He sobered.

“I can never close my eyes towards those in need, Adelinde.”

“I would never ask that of you, sir, forgive me for implying such a thing,” she replied without missing a beat, sensing the shift in tone.

Crepus allowed himself a soft bitter smile.

“Of course, of course...but Adelinde, he was so cold and lost, the storm so harsh, I could not bear to leave him there,” he said, pained. The thought of such an uncaring father grieved him beyond words.

“It...would be so cruel of me not to offer him shelter, as if I have none to spare, when I return to a home so abundant in warmth and comfort and luxury.” He gestured around him, sighing heavily.

“Truthfully so, my mind was not on the future,” he admitted softly, “I merely thought of protecting him from such a raging tempest. That was all my intention, nothing more.” He looked upwards, gaze distant, deep in contemplation.

When he finally spoke again, it was with determined resolve.

“What becomes of the boy going forward, I cannot say, but I can assure you I will do my best to ensure the best possible outcome for him and everyone else that might become involved, whether or not that means letting him remain here indefinitely while we find a place for him elsewhere. I can give him this, at the very least—a place to call home, should he ever want or need it.”

A moment’s silence as he stewed in his own thoughts.

“You’re a good person, Master Crepus,” Adelinde said quietly, once she’d pondered over the right words to say.

“And you, for listening to a troubled man’s woes.” He smiled, sincere and grateful.

Turning his mind away from such heaviness, his mind wandered instead to...

“Although,” he started, chewing the word slowly, “there was something else about the boy. Something...different...” he trailed off.

“Sir?” Adelinde prompted, equal parts curious and worried. He frowned.

“Well...how to put it...I have travelled far and wide, but this boy, I think he-”

“Father?”

They both turned. Diluc’s head peeked out from behind the door, blinking blearily, the glow of the fireplace slipping through the open crack. Immediately, warmth settled between Crepus’ ribs, all else forgotten in light of his son.

“Welcome home, Father. I..di’n hear you come back,” he slurred, rubbing his eyes sleepily. 

Crepus’ heart melted, and he smiled warmly, ruffling his son’s hair.

“That’s alright. It’s rather late and it’s pouring out there, so it’s no wonder you didn’t hear the door. Did you fall asleep reading by the fire again?”

“No no, I was awake, I was,” he insisted, yawning, arms outstretched.

“Is that so?” Crepus chuckled, amused and endeared. “Well I’m afraid I can’t carry you right now, Diluc.” 

His son tilted his head in response, confused.

“Young Master Diluc, Master Crepus was caught in the storm. He’ll need a warm bath and a change of clothes before he’ll be fit to carry you, but I’m sure Master Crepus will come find you then.”

Ah, that’s right, that was where they were headed before they got carried away, lost in conversation. They must have stopped short somewhere along the way, their voices drawing Diluc’s attention. He wondered how much of their exchange he had overheard. 

Adelinde approached, meaning to lead him away. Diluc, however, refused to let that happen. He shook his head stubbornly, pouting at Crepus, reaching for him with grabby hands. Crepus could only stare at him for a moment longer before he caved, hoisting his son up with a feigned sigh.

“...oh alright, don’t say we didn’t warn you.”

“Master Crepus!” 

“Not to worry, Adelinde. We’ll have that warm bath and head straight to bed. Isn’t that right, son?” 

Diluc nodded vigorously, and despite her calm demeanour, Crepus knew she was fighting the urge to sigh in despair. Instead, she led them further down the corridor, opening the door to his room. 

“Your bath is drawn and the water should be warm by now. I’ll fetch your clothes and have them ready by your bed before you finish. Enjoy your bath then, sirs.”

He beamed, patting her shoulder as she bowed and turned to leave. 

“Can’t thank you enough, Adelinde!”

She disappeared in a hurry after that. Crepus turned to the ray of sunshine in his arms, playfully bouncing him on his hips. It drew a giggle that was music to his ears. 

“Now, what do you say to a nice warm bubble bath?” 

Gently, he shut the door.

Chapter Text

Excerpt:

Movement. He froze. Someone was already curled up in the armchair, a quilt wrapped around them. 

Oh no…He’d forgotten to check if anyone was in the room in the first place. Maybe he could make up an excuse, he left something behind and came back to retrieve it-? No, lying wouldn’t do…Perhaps if it was just a maid he could still convince them to keep quiet-?

Except, it wasn’t a maid. In fact, it wasn’t anyone he knew. Instead, an unfamiliar boy turned his head to the door, tensed. Diluc stared. 

A single diamond eye stared back.

He had never seen any eye like that before. It was pretty. It was…special.

And it was completely foreign to him. His confusion quickly morphed into suspicion at the sight of some stranger sitting in his father’s armchair. He frowned, breaking the silence.

“Who are you?”