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This year’s Windblume Festival began on decidedly the wrong foot. A festival that is an overture to love probably is not supposed to start with a murder trial coupled with a full-scale invasion attempt of the city—Kaeya is fairly certain of such a fact. But, of course, the last few Windblume Festivals have been fairly uneventful, so it was only a matter of time before one got outrageously out of hand. That’s how things work in Mondstadt, generally—everything appears to be normal until a supposedly long-dormant dragon decides to weak havoc on the city for seemingly no reason.
Regardless, the issue was resolved as always with assistance from the Traveler and Paimon—seriously, where would Mondstadt be without them?—and Albedo’s charges were cleared with assurance from the man himself that Mondstadt would not have to worry about something like this again. So that’s all sealed by Kaeya himself in a manila envelope to gather dust in some storage room, Albedo has promised Kaeya a drink for his trouble, and Diluc is being remarkably civil with him, so what more could he ask for, really?
Diluc passes Kaeya a drink across the counter—a Death After Noon, his drink of choice. Kaeya nods appreciatively.
“That’s from Albedo,” says Diluc as he turns around to mix another drink. The tavern is busy tonight.
Kaeya frowns, absentmindedly swirling the liquid around in the glass. “Where is he?”
“Albedo?” Diluc shrugs. “Sleeping off the past few days’ events, I presume. Even if the trial was fabricated, I’m sure it’s been quite the burden.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” Kaeya sighs almost imperceptibly, then takes a sip from his glass. The drink is remarkably well-prepared—not that he would’ve expected anything less from Diluc, of course.
“Why? Were you expecting him?” Diluc turns to look at Kaeya, eyebrow raised.
“Not really,” Kaeya admits, “he’s never been one for socializing. There were just a few things I would have liked to discuss with him, is all.”
“You work together, don’t you?”
“Let’s just say that my inquiries are not strictly work-related.”
“Ah.” Diluc hands a tall glass of Dandelion Wine to a woman waiting nearby. “I meant to ask you about him, actually.”
“Oh?” Now it’s Kaeya’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “What about him?” Kaeya raises his glass to his lips, peering at Diluc over the rim. A warning delivered with a diamond-pupiled eye. Careful what you say next.
“Why did he choose you specifically to represent him? Why does he know so much about Durin—and Rhinedottir, for that matter?” Diluc shakes a drink mixer vigorously before pouring its contents evenly into three shot glasses. “Who exactly is this man, Kaeya?”
“He chose me to represent him because outside of my reputable standing as a law practitioner—”
“Yeah, that’s another thing,” interrupts Diluc, “since when are you qualified to practice law?”
“Since Grand Master Varka up and left with my cavalry, leaving me with nothing much to do. In my sudden excess of downtime, it was only natural that I study law or something similar. Now, if you’ll refrain from interrupting me, that would be wonderful.” Kaeya doesn’t wait for a response before continuing. “Additionally, he trusted me the most to make the trial and defense look convincing, although clearly there was an error in his judgement there, considering a civilian such as yourself saw straight through my ruse. As for his knowledge of Durin, he is the Ordo’s leading specialist on Dragonspine. Considering Durin’s supposedly dormant corpse rests there, it is only natural that he would have extensive knowledge of the topic. As for Gold, she is widely regarded as one of the most formidable of alchemists, is she not? This, too, is only natural that he would know so much about her.”
“Okay, fine,” Diluc says, “but what about my last question?”
Kaeya shrugs. “He’s the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius, as well as Captain of the Investigation Team. He’s a remarkably intelligent man, with exceptional talent to boot.” Kaeya knocks back the rest of his drink, setting the empty glass on the table. “He’s not bad to look at, either,” he adds, almost as an afterthought.
“Well that’s got to be a conflict of interest,” Diluc mutters under his breath, taking the empty glass and setting it aside. He turns back to Kaeya. “And you know that’s not what I meant,” he pries, his eyes boring into Kaeya’s skull.
“You asked who Albedo is, and I told you,” replies Kaeya, voice sweet as honey and yet dripping with poison all the same. “What more could you possibly want to know?”
“I mean what is he?”
“Hm. You said ‘what’ that time.”
“Yeah, I did, because there’s something about him that’s distinctly not normal human behavior—”
“And I could say the same about you, so what’s your point?”
“My point is—” Diluc sighs. “Something is off about him, is all. I don’t know what, but it’s something.”
“Perhaps he’s just too intelligent for the likes of you,” Kaeya suggests. Just drop it. There is no way this conversation ends well.
Diluc scoffs. “I don’t deny his intellect. I’m just saying, there’s something weird about him.”
“What can I say? He’s a strange person.”
Diluc opens his mouth as if to argue further, but seems to think better of it and visibly deflates, redirecting his attention to the drink he’s supposed to be working on. Kaeya rolls his eye and dips behind the counter to aid Diluc in the drink mixing.
“You really don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do,” Kaeya counters. “You’re clearly distracted, and you’re swamped with customers. Let me help.”
“Fine.”
Kaeya begins working on some Valberry-Wolfhook concoction, humming quietly to himself. There is no way that Diluc could possibly know Albedo’s secret—he’s perceptive, yes, but he doesn’t know nearly enough about the fallen kingdom of Khaenri’ah and everything that comes with it. Kaeya, of course, clocked Albedo’s identity almost immediately, but again, Khaenri’ah is the common denominator here—something Kaeya is very much familiar with, and something Diluc very much is not.
“It was nice fighting together again,” Kaeya remarks, attempting to curb the lull in conversation. Diluc is being civil to him tonight—he might as well take advantage of it.
“Sure,” is all Diluc says in response, handing a white wine garnished with Cecelia to a waiting customer.
Kaeya scoffs. “Is that it?”
“It was nice,” Diluc clarifies. “Not being at each other’s throats for once.”
Kaeya nods. Fighting together on an actual bridge, rather than burning a metaphorical one. Hell, the last time they had fought, it had been against one another. They don’t talk about that night. Kaeya sometimes wonders if they ever will.
“Our elements mixed well,” Kaeya says instead, carefully pouring out a drink. “Good to know we can fight together without getting in each other’s way.”
“Sure.” Diluc bites his lip, clearly thinking about something. “I’m glad I was there,” he says finally. “Hate to know what would’ve happened if you had to fight that Frostarm Lawachurl on your own.”
“Well, good thing we didn’t have to find out.”
“Not bad for a civilian volunteer, huh?”
Kaeya laughs. “I’ll toast to that,” he says, raising some customer’s glass of something in the air before handing it off to the man waiting at the end of the bar. “Happy Windblume, Diluc.”
Diluc will deny it later, of course, but Kaeya swears he sees the ghost of a smile. “Happy Windblume, Kaeya.”