Chapter Text
“Run along now, Kaeya, this is a discussion for the adults.”
Like the echo of a struck bell, the words rang through his ears before he realized they were the dredges of a dream, and they dragged out his hesitation to join the waking world just a little longer. Though he had not heard that voice in several years, there was little doubt that they had, at one point, been spoken by Crepus Ragnvindr.
Immediately though, something else rang like a much larger, angrier bell between his ears.
He wrinkled his nose as he pushed himself to sit up, a hand lifting to pinch at the bridge of his nose as he dragged his gaze slowly around the familiar room of his quarters in the Favonius barracks; he took note of the remnants of a mostly finished wine bottle set on his bedside table. Normally, he wouldn’t hit the bottle that heavily, but it had been a special occasion, and even Diluc hadn’t been able to be that much of a greedy bastard when it’d come to celebrating his own twenty-fifth birthday. Not when the Traveler put in so much effort in getting those close to Diluc gathered for it.
True to the importance of any Mondstadt resident’s twenty-fifth birthday, they celebrated almost aggressively. Twenty-five was the end of childhood, the end of world-wandering, and the end of innocence. It was the age of inheritance–both of the formal lands belonging to the Ragnvindr family, and of all of the responsibilities that came with the mantle of literal nobility among the nation’s citizens.
He would also inherit every single unfulfilled contract laid out under the family’s name. While Liyue may have been the nation of contracts, Mondstadt was no stranger to them. Their god may have had startling little interest in any binding ones, but mortals understood the importance of slightly more… physical ways of keeping someone bound to their word.
Kaeya had no doubt that Diluc was already pacing holes in his carpet waiting for the meeting that morning.
Wait, shit.
Abruptly, the Cavalry Captain stumbled up from his bed to check the chronometer at his desk, realizing that Diluc had in fact asked him to be the witness to that meeting on his behalf and that he had… approximately five minutes until it was scheduled. In a flurry that could rival any of his impromptu little snowstorms, he threw off the clothing that still smelled of the Angel’s Share from the night before, cleaning up in a haste before he made his way through the halls with renewed purpose.
He liked to be late. He considered it fashionable, and the notion of making other people wait on him, leaving them to sit in their furious little stew all for him, was normally a delight. Walking into the formal will reading and transition of the estate the day after Diluc’s birthday, just a little hungover was neither fashionable nor delightful–particularly when all eyes turned on him. Ah, he was the last one in the room. At least Diluc, who he’d convinced into not one, but two glasses of wine the night before, looked more hungover than he did. Even his normal ponytail sat a little disheveled to one side. That alone let a little grin crack across Kaeya’s lips as he came to take a stand next to him.
It would be a quiet affair. There were no other heirs to the state, and Jean couldn’t help her own, tiny smile from the state of them. As the acting law enforcement of the city, presiding over the settled accounts and wills of the nobility was another one of her many duties, though Lisa had clearly offered to lend a hand with the organization and arrangement of the paperwork. This passage of property and land would, as they all had, join in the records at the Headquarters.
Kaeya could barely stifle a half-smirk at the horribly grumpy expression on the redhead’s features; how many times had he sworn up and down that he would never step foot in the Favonius Headquarters again? Not that he’d been given many options this time, but…
“Can we just get this over with? There are half a dozen planning permissions that I have to submit with the city now that I can actually do so,” Diluc asked, though his exasperation didn’t sound nearly as vitriolic as most might expect from someone who despised his surroundings so much. Jean picked up on that, too, and pressed her lips tightly together to avoid laughing.
“Right, of course,” she relented, setting a… surprisingly small stack of paperwork atop her desk from the files Lisa had prepared, and Kaeya was already a little wary of just how little Crepus seemed to have left Diluc by way of paperwork; he could see the title to the winery and the Angel’s Share within it, though Diluc had managed to sell one of their former estates by pure loophole alone. Kaeya had liked that mansion, but he could respect Diluc’s innovation in selling it on a rental note with promise, too.
Still, something wasn’t quite… right.
He’d seen Crepus make half a dozen contracts, surely, in the years leading to his death. There seemed to be none visible now, so unless he’d had them prepared to be settled upon his death and there truly was nothing for Diluc to worry about, it didn’t check out. Any reasonable person within Mondstadt would know that now was the time to levy any unsatisfied contracts raised against the estate, and yet, there was no one present that had done so.
While Jean spoke of the formalities of the transition of land deeds and property, Kaeya let his mind wander–until there came the sound of the door opening.
Now, most people in Mondstadt knew that the Acting Grand Master’s office was a nigh-sacred place. Any reasonable knight would scowl accordingly at any unexpected visitor, or outright stop them, but the man standing in the doorway carried himself with enough clout that he’d probably outright intimidated whatever poor novice Knight they had on basic guard duty. Klaus Lawrence–and not far behind in tow, their very own Reconnaissance Captain.
“Eula?” Jean asked in slight surprise to see the woman practically pulled along, and that little tickle of apprehension at the back of Kaeya’s neck only grew in intensity. Of course, leave it to the Lawrence Clan, of all possible people, to show up even later than he did… though he couldn’t fault Eula’s late appearance, given the look on her face that suggested she would rather be anywhere else. “We’re in the middle of an estate reading, is this-”
“Ahem,” Klaus interrupted immediately, a scowl settling on his face as he lifted his hand, a ream of paperwork within. “We’re here to contest against the estate–and call upon an agreement that we have with the Ragnvindr family.”
It came as little surprise to anyone in the room. Despite how far they had fallen from the grace of the public, the Lawrence Clan were still nobility. Though they had lost a considerable amount in the last few decades because of the disdain the city felt for them, there was something to be said for the notion of age and wealth their line retained. That they would have some kind of arrangement with the Ragnvindrs in exchange wasn’t an unreasonable claim, though a dark furrow crossed Diluc’s brow at the declaration.
Kaeya could read him like a book. He hadn’t known about this, and he still didn’t know what that paperwork contained, but Klaus stepped right past them before either could interfere and deposited the stack of contracts on Jean’s desk. It was a grand, sweeping gesture that suggested he didn’t want to actually touch any of them, even though Jean had certainly held her hand out for them… and certainly one that Kaeya was sure that Eula would have called out, but the woman seemed to be having some small difficulty in looking at any of them, still.
Most of all, Diluc.
The silence that followed, disrupted only by the shuffling of paper as Jean lifted the contracts, felt oddly deafening. Kaeya dragged his eye away from Eula just in time to see confusion write across Jean’s expression, and she started with a hesitant: “Well, that can’t be right-”
Once again, Klaus cleared his throat. “If you would kindly announce the terms of our contract, Acting Grand Master Gunnhildr, instead of speculating on it? I believe you’ll find everything in order to the specifications laid out within, witnessed, and signed for.”
Though Diluc would hardly cause enough of a public spectacle to snarl at the disrespect shown to their childhood friend, Jean steeled herself and took a breath, reading before any of them could interrupt once more. “...The contract herewithin arranges the marriage of Diluc Ragnvindr and Eula Lawrence, as arranged by their parents, and the respective heads of their clans. By the unison of two of Mondstadt’s oldest lines, both houses will welcome the winds of change that sweep our country so often, and put past aside for the enrichment of her people. May the two come to love each other and understand the great sacrifice we ask of them for the sake of this union. Penned and signed by… Crepus Ragnvindr…” Her gaze dropped, frown etching deeper into her expression. “Nearly fifteen years ago.”
“I think you’ll find no clauses in Mondstadt’s laws that place any kind of expiry on such an agreement. It is to be honored when the boy turns twenty-five, with every other contract to the estate, which was… last night, if I’m not mistaken? I heard there was quite the party in town, so our household extends our generous forgiveness for not coming to seek to honor it sooner.”
Kaeya scoffed, hardly willing to sit back and watch this unfold, as amusing as it might have been to have Diluc fight that particular battle. He was there just as much as an advocate for Diluc in such an arrangement as he was a witness, and he stepped forward with one, sweeping gesture. “I’m sure Master Diluc would have come had he been aware of it, but seeing as you seem to be the only one with a copy of that contract, I don’t think you can fault him for not coming sooner. Of course, given the nature of the contract and how he didn’t even agree to it, it’s just a matter of seeing it annulled–”
“I am honoring the contract,” Diluc interrupted, quietly, stunning everyone in the room, apart from the Lawrences that had presented said contract, into silence once more.