Chapter Text
Dainsleif walked up to his Majesty’s door, having gotten a letter summoning him for yet another commission from the king himself. When Dain had received it, a frown had crossed his face. Normally, his duties involved general things, such as guarding the castle premises and fending off any unwanted guests.
However, lately, the king has taken to giving him…personal tasks, odd ones that are unbefitting of a knight. It involved things like retrieving machinery, leaving letters in dilapidated houses, and sending flares in the dead of night, in places no ordinary citizen would expect to travel to. It seemed like something was going on, something no one else was aware of.
Dain supposed he was chosen for these tasks because of his status as the Twilight Sword. Too loyal to the crown to tell anyone about them, yet too low clearance to be told what was going on. Sighing, he raised his fist to knock on the door, and hoped whatever was happening wouldn’t leave him with regrets. His knock surprisingly led to multiple banging noises on the other side of the door, and an audible “there, now!” could be heard. ‘Out of sight, out of mind.’ Dainsleif thought desperately, knowing indulging his curiosity would never lead to anything good. The king finally opened the door, his usual jovial expression on his face.
“Dain! Come in, come in! You’ve received my summons, yes? Well, I have this package, and I need you to take it somewhere.”
“I do hope it isn’t a near-collapsed building this time.” Dain said dryly, knowing the older man would tolerate his tone. Letting out a laugh, the king waved one hand in the air.
“Ha! No, this time I need you to take it to someone we all know. Chief Alchemist Aurum, Rhinedottir. I fear I have kept this ingredient with me too long, and she has been nagging me for the past week. She desperately needs it for one of her concoctions, so please, do hurry good knight.” Dain raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. Questioning the Alchemist Aurum was outside his paygrade, and it would be less of a hassle to simply do the job.
Not that he wasn’t itching to ask why the king was so involved in alchemy, but he knew better than asking questions that meant losing what little knowledge he could gain doing these errands. Hopefully, he could find something out before being blindsided by whatever was coming.
Grunting his acceptance, Dain took the twine-bound box and turned towards the door, getting ready to walk out before something caught his eye.
In the closet, looking out the smallest of gaps, was an eye. It was deep blue, like the dark seas of the land, lapping on the dark rock surface. The face behind it was barely visible, only a small strip could be seen, but it was clearly a man, an older one at that. His skin was the deep brown of the royal family’s, and his hair looked like the night sky, at least, the sliver that Dain could see standing out from the shadows. Dain froze, the eye pinning him in place, wide and observing. Instantaneously, the closet door shut, not making a sound, and if Dain was any less sharp he’d assume the gap was never there at all. Dain remained unmoving, mouth gaping as he tried to find words to exclaim his surprise, or question the mystery.
“Dainsleif.” The king's voice called out, lacking his earlier easy-going tone. This snapped Dain out of his frozen state, making him turn to face the majesty. He was faced with cold eyes, so similar to the one of the man in the closet, seas frozen over and unmoving, stared deep into him, face lacking even the hint of a smile. It was a jarring contrast to his relaxed state from moments ago.
“Go. Do not wonder. Simply do your duty, and all will be well.” Dainsleif nodded, gulping despite his dry mouth, and exiting quickly. As he walked down the halls with a brisk pace, his mind kept returning to that moment, catching the eye through the door, staring at him as though he had never seen a man before. The eye had the diamond that everyone had, so there was no question of his nationality. Yet the strikingly similar appearance to the queen, the possession of eyes just like the king… it made Dain slow, almost stopping in his tracks.
The king and queen did not have children, nor were they required to. They had enough extended family that an heir was no problem, with the current running candidate being Erik of an adjacent noble house. The reason for this complication was because of a horrible miscarriage the queen had undergone, taking the child’s life and almost taking the queen’s with it.
The whole kingdom mourned the child, including a small Dain, who was only three years old. He was much too young to truly understand what stillborn meant, but he remembers the tears in his mother’s eyes when the announcement was given, and remembers the way the streets lost all color. Of course, everyone had recovered within months, but the queen never did, vowing to never have a child again.
She had died two years ago, quiet in a way none had expected of such a strong presence. She had an air of anxiety about her, and she had caught Dain’s arm one night, the night before she died. Dain had been willing to do anything she required, but she hesitated, and dismissed him without asking for anything. Before she died, she turned to him, mind so deteriorated that she could only let two confused words out. “My son…”
The king demanded everyone leave the room, which Dain assumed was out of sadness, but now that he thought about it…there was fear in those eyes. One Dain recognized, the fear that people would see something that they weren’t meant to.
If that miscarriage had lived, if it wasn’t a stillborn baby, he would be of twenty years of age, going on twenty-one. It couldn’t be, could it? No, Dain shook his head. No point in entertaining foolish, crazy thoughts like that. He grasped the box tight in his hands, feeling the corners dig into his palms, before going to fulfill his duty.
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The next time Dain saw the man from the closet, the knight was sweeping the floor of the kitchen. He was reaching for a glass from the cabinet, tired from a day’s long work. All of the Black Serpent Knights were entitled to kitchen facilities, which Dain took advantage of many times on duty.
He had stopped by before his night shift, reaching for a glass of water before accidentally flicking his hand and sending the other glasses flying. The head maid gave him an earful, and since it was the time she and all the other staff retired for the night, she was especially angry. In order to soothe her, Dain offered to clean it all up, which only led to an upturned ‘harumph’ from the elder woman, with the threat that if he didn’t do a good job of it, she would box his ears in the morning. She flounced off, leaving Dain to work quietly.
Just as he had gotten the last pieces of glass, he felt a presence behind him. His mind raced, trying to figure out who it was. If it was the king sneaking up on him again, he would need to act marginally surprised so that his majesty would tease Dain further and remain in a good mood. If it was his fellow knight, he would need to chide them on their manners and announcing their presence, so as not to scare anyone around them.
But as the figure got closer, he could tell it was none of those people, and he got ready, hand on his blade. Just as the person neared six feet of him, he whipped around, blade in hand, stance ready. The man jolted, face and half his body hidden by the shadows.
“Don’t you dare move.” Dain hissed, inching closer to try to identify him. The man stood stock still, breathing heavily like a scared animal. His thin legs shuffled, clearly considering what to do.
“I said, don’t move. If you do, I will sound the alarm, and the entire castle will have you surrounded in minutes.” Dain’s voice was laced with venom and authority, making sure no doubt was left in the other’s mind. He slowly shuffled forward, getting ready to corner the man. Now three feet away, Dain’s eyes strained to try and tell who this was, and if the threat was immediate. Moments stretched on, the figure clearly not going to do anything but still too terrified to move.
“Step forward, now, before I chop your head off clean, where you stand.” The figure visibly hesitated, before taking two slow steps into the light, features slowly becoming visible. As he showed himself, the tension left Dain’s body, his sword arm relaxing and his shoulders dropping in disbelief.
The man was tall, lanky in a way that implied consistent exercise. He looked nervous, eyes shifty as they searched for a way out. He had two eyes, the stars in them making him somewhat recognizable, as did his midnight hair, his face reminiscent of the late queen, yet his build and eyes similar to the king’s. He wore a corset with a loose tunic and tight pants, and his bangs fell forward, almost as though he was trying to obscure his face.
Dain stared, gaping, almost as if he felt as though he were hallucinating. There was no doubt about it, this was the man from the closet, and he was real, out and about like no one else was there. He was hunched into himself, and stared back looking as though he was going to be sick.
“Who…” Dain’s voice was dry, fading towards the end before he cleared it, shaking his head. “Who are you?” His voice was soft, almost reverent.
The man didn’t move, looking as though he was afraid to answer the question. He shifted his eyes left and right once more, before deciding that whatever escape he was looking for didn’t exist, and seemed to deflate, giving up and answering Dain’s question.
“...Kaeya. I am Kaeya Alberich.” Dain’s eyes widened, feeling as though he was just hit with a brick to the gut.
“A…Alberich? Like…like the royal family?” Kaeya hesitated at this, before giving a short and fast nod, squeezing his eyes shut. Dain felt as though he were about to faint, his vision blurring. Kaeya was the name of the queen’s son, the lost child. Standing in front of him, a dead man walking, was the prince of the Eclipse Dynasty, the last of his line so far.
He was shaking like a newborn fawn, looking more like a pathetic criminal than like any sort of royalty. Yet there was no question about it. His birthright was written all over him, in the minuscule details of his skin, his hair, even his long eyelashes, so clearly inherited. Dain stumbled over to the nearest table, sitting down. The prince looked frantic, as if wondering what would happen if he were to slip away now, if Dainsleif would try to stop him or worse, tell someone about his existence. Dainsleif, who looked as though he were nursing a headache, gestured to him.
“Sit down.” He winced at his own gruff voice. The prince startled, before nodding meekly and shuffling over to take the seat across from him. The two sat there in silence, as Dain attempted to take in the new information. While it wasn’t the first time his majesty’s kept something from him, it’s the first time it’s been something this big, something as important as a whole person, an heir to the throne.
Kaeya seemed to be lost in his own head, dissociating into a corner. When the silence became overbearing, Dain cleared his throat, making the prince jump once more. Dain cocked a brow, mentally taking note of the man’s twitchy nature.
“Forgive my impertinence, your majesty, but I must know…” Dain paused, trying to figure out how to word what he was asking without being completely rude. “...how exactly are you alive?” Kaeya’s eyes widened at this, before shooting down to his fingers, fiddling in his lap.
“I…I don’t know if I’m allowed to tell you that…” Dainsleif sighed, figuring that was the case. The shock to his system remained, but he persisted, needing more information from the prince before the whole thing left his grasp. He was determined, after all, and he hadn’t become the most capable knight for nothing.
“I understand, but your fath- whoever told you that you can’t say anything to me, isn’t here right now, and they don’t understand how vital it is that I know the whole situation.” Kaeya still looked troubled at this, clearly not convinced. He looked like a child who was being told that if they confessed to a crime, they would go unpunished. Dain would get nowhere with this approach.
“Kaeya, do you know who I am?” A silly question, but one that would establish a solid line of reasoning. Kaeya looked at him as though he were a bit stupid, but shook his head no.
“I am Dainsleif, the Twilight Sword, captain of the Black Serpent Knights and leader of the Khaenri’ahn force.” Kaeya’s eyes widened, almost in familiarity, before hiding the expression behind a carefully set blank one. Dain latched onto the slip-up, knowing this would work.
“Kaeya, do you know the Knights?” Kaeya looked around once more, as though his father would pop up out of nowhere. In his defense, the king did have a bad habit of doing that. He then nodded, refusing to meet Dain’s eye.
“Then surely, you know how vital my job is? I must know everything, in order to keep Khaenri’ah safe.”
“I…I don’t know all that much about the knights.” His voice was clearer now, with a lilting quality, one that flowed smoothly in the air. “I just…when I was younger, I watched you get knighted. It was…uh…very important…and quite lovely.” The last part was muttered, barely audible and Dain strained to hear it.
“Thank you, for the compliment Kaeya. However, you must know that with that importance comes a duty.” Kaeya nodded, cheeks flushed. “This is a matter of your safety as well. Please, explain to me what exactly I’m missing here. I swear to you, on my sword, I will tell no one, including your father, of anything you say.” Kaeya considered this, looking deeply into Dain’s eyes, before deciding he liked the truth he found and started explaining.
“I…I am the prince, as you have clearly deduced. The whole kingdom was told that I died at birth when I was young, but that is evidently a falsity. My father hid me away, away from the eyes of anyone and everyone, regardless of their status. There were only three people who were allowed to know me my entire life. My father, my mother, and the Alchemist Aurum.” Dain’s eyes flashed, taking a mental note of Rhinedottir’s title. What in the Abyss was the Alchemist Aurum doing in this political scheme, and why was the throne so entrenched in Khemia?
“I am kept away from the public eye for my own good, and my father says that prying eyes will result in the loss of the upper hand he has. Truth be told, I don’t completely understand my father’s explanations. I simply follow them, for not following his instructions will put me in terrible danger.” He said this part as though he were reciting a novel, something he was made to memorize for this specific instance.
“I’ve spent almost all my life within my chambers in the west wall, and I only come out at night or when I’m summoned. When I do leave, I’m not allowed to leave the castle, so I stick to the kitchen and sometimes visit the stables. I sneak out much more often than my Father nor the Alchemist know. Usually, when someone else is awake, I simply shuffle around them until they leave. In fact, you’re the only one who’s caught me.” Kaeya looked sheepish at this, as if he’d failed some grand mission. Dainsleif was just surprised the young man had made it this far with not a single soul knowing about him.
“Could you explain a bit more, about the Alchemist? Why does she know about you?”
“The Alchemist Aurum has taught me my whole life, but only the basics. I know how to read, write, and talk, and basic mathematics. No matter how much I ask, my books are always regulated, as is my knowledge. I am not allowed to know of anything past Khaenri’ahn walls.” Dain nodded at this. While interesting, the heathens of the seven nations above had no place in a true Khaenri education.
“Right…and what of your parents?”
“When I turned 18, my mother…she died.” Kaeya’s voice was quiet now, suppressed in his show of grief, clearly still affected by the tragedy. “My father has continued raising me, and will do so until he dies. He says…” Kaeya paused, a fond expression crossing his face. “He said that raising me is his best work, that spending time with me is his favorite time. I love him dearly, and I have no idea what I’d do without him.” Dain nodded, though surprised at Kaeya’s adoration.
“You don’t…resent him? For keeping you locked up?” Kaeya looked surprised, as if even the thought was horrible.
“Why would I? He was simply looking out for me. As I said, he loves me dearly, and makes sure to spend a lot of time with me. Without him, I doubt I would’ve had a happy childhood, nor the care that I have had to this day.” Dain blinked, still not completely convinced. There was an undertone to Kaeya’s words, as though he had spent a lifetime hiding how he truly felt and was fundamentally incapable of telling him the truth. It had seemed like a lie that Kaeya had convinced even himself of. Dain shook his head. It wasn’t his business anyway. There was more information to be gleaned, but the longer they stayed out in the open, the risk of running into someone rose.
Lifting himself up from the chair as it screeched backwards, Dain offered his hand, hoping Kaeya would take the cue to rise. He did, placing his dainty fingers in Dain’s, the epitome of grace. Perhaps Rhinedottir made a habit of teaching her students aestheticism as well.
“Listen Kaeya, if what you say is true, simply being out here is a danger. You must return to your quarters, and stay. If it is possible though, I would like to visit you, preferably during the daytime, when I am free. Is that alright?” Kaeya nodded, a bit too excited for someone being offered one visit. How long had he been left alone?
There was one problem, however. In all of Dain’s years living in the castle, he had never known of any place called the west wing. There was an east wing, and a north wing, but no south nor west.
“Kaeya, your highness, may I accompany you to your quarters?” Dain hoped that his drop in honorifics for most of the conversation would go unmentioned, and Kaeya didn’t seem to notice it either. He nodded even more vigorously, a smile coming onto his face. It was small, but it lit up his whole demeanor, making him seem much, much happier than almost two minutes ago. Dain looked away, and nodded.
“Lead the way then”
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It turns out Kaeya had not said west wing, but west wall. And it was, quite literally, the west wall. It was a rather desolate place, and upon reaching the dead end, Dain looked around, wondering if he had been made a fool of and if Kaeya was secretly planning to kill him in the corner, where no one would find his body until a week later. His neurosis dissipated when Kaeya pressed on a rock in the wall, opening up a doorway to a rather large room, quite comfy in nature and with small trinkets everywhere, ranging from seashells to ink pots to broomsticks. Dain looked around in awe, the door closing the moment he stepped in. There was a large window, peering down into the bustling city below. Dain carefully navigated his way to it, inspecting it, knowing that no such window was visible on the outside of the wall.
“Khemia.” Kaeya explained when he saw that Dain spent a little too much time by the window. “The Alchemist Aurum imbued it with her special technology, which is what makes the mechanism for the door and this window. It is not visible to anyone who isn’t her, me, and my father.” Dain looked away, looking at Kaeya, who now sat on his bed, clearly unbothered by the clutter.
“Could you show me this method? Once again, I would like to visit you. Preferably when your father isn’t around.” Kaeya nodded, going over to the doorway. Dain followed, clumsily moving through the room on his tip-toes and the balls of his feet to avoid crushing anything. He silently noted the prince’s lack of argument or confusion when it came to hiding things from his father. He clearly had no aversion to deceiving the king, yet still claimed to love him immensely. It was…odd. Following him to the door, careful so as not to step on anything, Dain observed the way Kaeya pressed his hand up to the stone, making the doorway open. He furrowed his brows.
“Can simply anyone put his hand on there?” Kaeya shook his head.
“Ms. Aurum made it so that anyone with specific DNA can come in. Hers, my father’s, and my mother’s. I have both my parent’s DNA, so I am automatically allowed in.”
“I see…this serves as an obstruction to our meetings then.” Kaeya giggled, a hand coming up to his mouth.
“Not necessarily. Watch this.” Kaeya moved to his desk, passing easily over the knickknacks across the floor, with the familiarity of someone who has done it many times. He reached over to a pair of scissors, bringing them up to a lock of his hair, the long strands that cascade down his shoulders. Faster than Dain could blink, he snipped it off, twirling it into a neat loop. Reaching over again, he rifled through a drawer to pull out a locket, simple in nature, shaped like a circle. Placing his hair into the locket and snapping it shut, Kaeya made his way back to the wall, then pressed the necklace into the stone. Like magic, the door opened up once more, bringing a shine to Dain’s eyes. Placing the locket in Dain’s hand’s, Kaeya interlocked his fingers behind his back, swaying on the balls of his feet.
“There, now you have no excuse not to visit me.” Dainsleif smiled, though a placating one he usually wore with his subordinates and those of the court.
“Of course. I must take my leave now, your majesty. I plan to see you soon. Goodbye.” Bowing, Dain placed his hand to the stone with the locket and stepped through, not looking back to the prince longingly watching his receding form.
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The next few days, Dain tossed and turned in his bed, getting very little sleep. He had stumbled upon something huge, something that might get him killed. Who knows what the king might do if he realizes his most trusted knight has stumbled upon his supposedly dead son, one that he’s hidden away all his life? His patrols were tedious, his nerves fraying as he suddenly became incredibly aware of everything he was doing. He half expected the king to show up one day, interrupting his patrols in order to execute him for high treason.
Eventually, he was genuinely considered abandoning the whole ordeal. If there truly was something going on, perhaps he wouldn’t be able to contribute towards it anyways. The best he could do was train, and be enough to protect the nation if something horrible did happen.
However, all inclinations to do so faded when he received a letter from the king after his swordsmanship practice one day, hair still sweaty from training, armor strayed across his barely furnished room. He had just taken his shirt off, and was attempting to dry off, running a streak of how long he could go with lavender perfume instead of a shower.
The letter was taken from where the courier had dropped it off at his doorway and placed on his desk, with a small official seal. Expecting another order, he ripped it open, reading what his majesty had to say. As he read, his frown grew.
‘Dainsleif. Thank you, for running my mundane errands for the past few months. I shall test your patience no longer, for I have decided a young knight named Halfdan to be a better fit for such elementary tasks. Enclosed, I have a bonus, as well as a raise added to your paygrade. Without the burden of being my courier, I hope to see your work on the front lines flourish, and for our new knights to be better than ever. Do stop by if you miss me greatly though, as your company is refreshing. Yours, His Majesty, ---- Alberich.’
Dainsleif threw the letter on his desk in frustration, collapsing onto his bed. He knew exactly what this was. His majesty had noticed that Dain was getting curious, putting things together, and decided to move on to some other naive, loyal knight. Someone less important, someone who wouldn’t dare try to know too much. To top it all off, he left Dain a small bribe, a silent order to drop the issue.
But now, it was clear that whatever the king was planning, it was something that was not only complex, but something Dain would be able to figure out with just a couple more pieces. There was only one place to find those pieces, no matter how dangerous it was. Making up his mind was easy, but moving to actually fulfill his goals was a weight he’d have to fight. Frustrated, Dain flipped his legs to the side, getting off the bed and into the shower. He’d have to be presentable for the prince of Khaenri’ah, after all.
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Taking a deep breath, Dain reached for the locket tucked away in his pocket. It had been accumulating rust under his bed, and it had taken him a moment to actually gather the courage to do this. He made sure he picked a time when no one would be looking for him, and made sure to have the alibi of getting groceries in town should someone ask where he was. He pressed the locket up to the cool stone, hand imprinting against the round shape. The door opened, to a Kaeya who was lying on his bed, craning his neck upward with a shocked expression, mouth in a tiny ‘o’. Dain stepped in, allowing the door to close behind him, and looked around the room. It was somewhat neater, and Kaeya himself was wearing yet another tunic. However in place of the tight pants and corset was a pair of comfortable looking breeches, clearly underwear. Dain averted his eyes, making sure they did not stray below Kaeya’s midsection. Clearing his throat, he bowed.
“I apologize if I have caught you unawares, your highness. I have found time to visit you, and I, unfortunately, lacked the foresight to knock or notify you of my presence.” Kaeya made a small noise of embarrassment, tucking his legs under his weight in an effort to hide his questionable clothing. His cheeks were once again flushed.
“Ah, it’s uh, no issue. I will go change immediately.” He leapt off the bed, towards a small closet in the corner, shutting the door behind him. Dain looked around once more, taking the room in. It was well lit, with lamps hanging from the ceiling. The prince’s bed was large, enough for, well, royalty. There was a smaller room, off to the corner, with one desk and a large chalkboard in the far wall, which he assumed was the room where Kaeya had all his lessons. There was another room, the bathroom, as well as a small room with a singular stove, a small fridge, and a couple of cabinets. It looked, well, a lot like the barracks actually, except fit for royalty and with traces of the prince everywhere, from small cut-up vegetables on the kitchen counter to the sun and moon tapestry hanging in the bathroom, clearly handmade. When Kaeya got back, dressed in a tunic and appropriate pants, Dain was inspecting a small metalwork on his desk. Looking up, he caught the fond expression on the prince’s face, as he walked over to join Dain.
“My mom made it. She loved metalwork, and made me small toys to play with all my life.”
“She's very talented.” Kaeya laughed airly at this, with a clear fond note in his voice.
“Yes, though half of what she gave me, in the beginning, looked rather demented. The one on my desk is one of her worse ones actually, but the love she put into it more than makes up for it.” Dain straightened up.
“It does. I’m sure that if she was alive today, she would have loved to make you more such decorations for your room.” Kaeya chuckled, striding back to the bed.
“Thank you. No need to butter me up though, I’ll answer your questions anyway.” Dain looked at him, surprised by the sudden cynicism. Kaeya rolled his eyes slightly at his questioning look.
“You demand answers from me then ignore me for a week after getting the key to my room. It doesn’t take a genius to know what you really want is information. I have to admit, I was absolutely convinced of your virtue and good intent when we first met, but the last time I had stepped foot out of this room was a month before that. I was a bit- ah- socially deprived, so I latched on. Apologies for that, by the way, now that you’ve made it excessively clear that you have no intention of seeing me for the sake of it.” Dain bowed his head with guilt. While he had been catastrophizing, he had forgotten that he promised the young man his company, a young man who had already been deprived of basic human interaction. He would need to do better, not just to gain information, but to simply be a decent knight to the prince.
“My sincerest apologies, my prince. I was…caught up in selfish feelings, and as a result, I neglected our newfound friendship. I really do intend to visit regularly now, and for your company as well.” The harsh light in Kaeya’s eyes died down, and he offered a small smile.
“It’s alright. I understand your aversion. I have no intention of forcing you to see me. Now tell me, why is it that you are visiting this time?” Dain hesitated, not wanting to simply use Kaeya, but needing to understand what was going on anyways.
“I was wondering why your father kept you like this. I understand it’s for your safety, but assigning you a personal knight would have been much more efficient. It also would have allowed the kingdom to rejoice for an heir, as well as be secure in the knowledge that their future king is a good person.” Kaeya considered this, a hand on his chin.
“I don’t know all the details. Make no mistake, I am no complacent fool, but these years have worn me down. I lack the curiosity I once had as a child, and this isolation does no favors to my mental state. There is very little I can question without seeming like defiance, and defiance would make everyone upset, so I try to avoid it. From what I understand, there is something my father plans for me that outweighs the benefits of exposing me to the public eye. It could be a multitude of things, ranging from the freedom that comes with other kingdoms underestimating us, to a simple need for control over a small part of the future, shaping me into a true ruler.” Kaeya mused distantly, his expression carefully pleasant. It was strange, to watch him talk about his situation with such disconnect, as if it did not affect him at this very moment. Dain took this all in, slowly digesting the information as he took a seat at the desk.
“And you know nothing of these plans?” Kaeya shook his head, clearly unbothered by his lack of knowledge. It made sense, Dainsleif supposed. His teenage years were probably spent questioning every condition of his life, and as a result, it was almost as if he had lost hope of living any other way. Dain moved on to his next question.
“What do you know of the Alchemist Aurum?” Kaeya considered this, clearly not expecting him to change subjects like that. Truth be told, it was what Dainsleif wanted to ask first. The presence of Rhindottir in so many royal conspiracies was suspicious, and he never did trust the cold scientist types.
“Ah, Ms. Rhine…like I said, she’s my teacher. She’s quite nice, actually. Never impatient when I didn’t understand something. She can be cold, and from the gossip I’ve heard around the castle, people tend to think she’s uptight or pretentious as a result, but I think that’s quite flawed. She is the reason I never tired of my studies, and why I know what I do to this day. I owe her quite a bit.” Dain scoffed internally. If she had any role in keeping Kaeya here, trapped in the walls, then he doubted there was any integrity in her actions.
“She’s never helped you escape? Or told you why they are keeping you here?” Kaeya shook his head.
“She was clear to me when I asked. She told me that I was not meant to know, and if I pressed she simply repeated that line, never showing frustration with my questions despite how angry I got. If anything, I think I stopped trying to leave this place not only because it was the only thing I’ve ever known, but also because she gave me no reason to. I have everything I need here, and any curiosity I could possibly have has been explained away.” Dain stroked his chin in thought. This was an exceedingly interesting situation, and one that could connect the strange occurrences around the castle very well. Perhaps he could even go to the Alchemist Aurum herself, and glean some information there.
“So you really think it's best that you stay here? Do not have the urge to explore what lies beyond? The people, the culture the-”
“Of course I do!” Interrupted the prince, in a rare moment of desperate anger. His eyes were sorrowful, and his mouth was twisted in a way Dainsleif could only describe as pathetic. The torn expression on his face smoothed out almost instantly, but the tenseness in his tone remained, even at the softer volume his voice took on. “Of course, I wish to leave this place, to be rid of these walls. But to do so would be to betray everyone who’s cared about me my whole life. They wish for me to be here, and so I will remain.”
Dain considered this, slightly regretting the fact that he had pushed the prince so far as to snap at him. He stewed quietly, mind attempting to make sense of it all. Were these events even connected? If so, how?
“Well, now that I am no longer of use, I suppose this is it?” The question startled Dain out of his thoughts. He had only then realized that they were sitting in silence, with Dain being lost in his head. The words were bitter, yet said in a light-hearted tone, a contrast to his outburst only moments ago. Kaeya now had a smile on his face, yet one that was frosted over, much like his father’s demeanor when his majesty was angry.
“You clearly aren’t getting anything out of me. In fact, I probably know less than you do. These questions are pointless, and you’ll have more luck going straight to the source than jumping around like this, but you don’t because you’re afraid of… something. Getting caught, perhaps? Underestimating your own power? It doesn’t really matter, does it? You won’t find anything here. If you decide to no longer concern yourself with the strange prince that lives in the walls, I’d suggest leaving the locket here. There is nothing else you have to gain.” Dain blinked, dumbfounded by the sheer acidity of the prince’s words.
Dainsleif knew fighting words when he heard them. He heard them almost constantly when he was a young man, his fellow knights jeering at him, hoping he’d tussle and turn out to be just as weak as he looked. A couple of times, he took them up on that offer, coming back to the barracks with blood smeared across his face, yet still victorious.
Kaeya’s words, however, felt different. Not taunting in a cocky way, but taunting in a way that implied that he wanted to be beaten, wanted to be kicked while he was down and left alone. It calmed Dainsleif down, actually, knowing that the prince was not trying to provoke him simply for the sake of it.
“I…I will admit, my primary motivation was to get some information as to what sort of royal conspiracy I was dealing with here, but I find it strange that you believe that is my only motivation.”
“What could you possibly want other than information? I know of your loyalty. You would do anything for Khaenri’ah. You will find nothing here that will contribute to that goal.”
“I understand that I’ve been cold, but really, do I come across as though I do not want to hear your story? To ask you what you want, what you wish for me to do for you? I may protect my homeland first, but I am also forever faithful to the royal family, and that includes you.” Kaeya seemed surprised at this, eyes widening slightly. He was not used to being grouped with the royal family, Dain realized, and was certainly not used to being treated like a prince.
“What do you desire, my prince?” Kaeya’s face flushed, the words seeming to wash away the aggrieved thoughts that accumulated over Dainsleif’s absence. His brows were furrowed, indicating that he still didn’t quite believe Dainsleif completely yet, but that was fine. Trust was one of the only things that truly had to be earned.
“I already have all that I desire. Quite conceited of you to assume you have something to offer the prince of a nation as large and powerful as this one.”
“Everyone is lacking something, Kaeya. I intend to fulfill any and all wishes that arise.”
“Well then…I do have one thing I yearn to know.” Dain raised his brow. The prince had found something already?
“And that is?”
“I wish to know your favorite color.”
Taken off guard, Dainsleif startled, eyebrows raised. Of all the things, that question had to be the last thing he expected. Kaeya’s blush grew deeper, staining his cheeks a sort of maroon.
“That is something friends know, right?” Ah…that made more sense. The prince required his friendship. Well, that was one thing Dainsleif could give, and easily.
“Of course. My favorite color is…” Hm. Now that Dainsleif thought about it, he didn’t exactly have a favorite color. His eyes roamed the room, desperate for something that would make him look like he didn’t have the personality of wet cardboard, before landing on Kaeya’s hair.
“It’s dark blue.” Dainsleif declared, with the confidence of someone who’s known this his whole life, and did not in fact make it up in the past ten seconds. Kaeya absentmindedly curled his finger into his hair, looking off into a corner of the room, his face still warm.
“Ah, well mine is yellow. Uh, the straw-yellow, not the bright one.” Dainsleif nodded. While he figured he would probably forget this information eventually, he tucked it into a corner of his mind, perhaps to recall later and prove his feelings of friendship to Kaeya.
“And uh…oh…what was it that book said…”
“Uh…book, your highness?”
“Yes, a book. There were two kids in it, and they were the bestest of friends. They knew everything about each other.” Dainsleif chuckled internally, amused by the prince who wished to study how to become friends.
“Is that what you wish for? For us to become the bestest of friends?” Kaeya lit up, his stance changing to something more hopeful, before receding into the shy embarrassment that seemed to plague him.
“Well, yes…if you don’t mind…I mean, I know I basically forced you into it, but-”
“Nonsense.” Dain interrupted, a small, chaste yet genuine smile gracing his face. My, what a charming prince he had found. “You cannot force someone to be your best friend. I, Kaeya, will become your best friend by choice.”
“...truly?”
Dain got up from the desk and walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge next to Kaeya before bringing his hand to the prince’s and looping his pinkie around the resting finger, lying lightly on the bed. Bringing their joined fingers up, Dain smiled once more.
“Promise.”
-----------------------------
Over the course of the next six months, Dainsleif visited Kaeya often, making sure to show up at least once a week.
As they began visiting regularly, they formed a method of signals, notifying the other when one had arrived. Dain tapped his foot on the wall twice before opening the door, to make sure Kaeya was ready. They had to develop this system after Dain walked in on Kaeya walking out of the shower, not used to covering himself since it was only him in those walls. It was an embarrassing incident for the both of them, with Dain instantly closing his eyes and waving a singular arm around, while Kaeya screeched and dove back into the bathroom, hoping his chastity was still safe.
In turn, when Rhinedottir or the king were visiting him, Kaeya made sure to leave a small note with three dots in the kitchen. It was placed behind the sugar, where Dain knew no one looked, or if they did, would simply write it off. This time, the trick was required after Dain had almost walked in on the king lecturing Kaeya for something or other, and Kaeya made increasingly vigorous hand gestures to close the door when Dain attempted to open it. They were both very lucky that the king paid attention to little else when he was the one who was talking.
Over the course of their newfound friendship, the two had gotten impossibly close. Kaeya loved explaining whatever new concept Rhinedottir was teaching him to Dain, who listened regardless of if he already knew the lesson or not. Dain talked about the outside world, making Kaeya laugh with his stoic stories about the trouble he and the other knights got into. Sometimes Kaeya got a far off, longing expression on his face as he listened, and Dain held his hand tight, hoping that he would be comfort enough.
While they chatted quite a bit, occasionally Dain brought in games and cards, trinkets that he would find in street fairs. Dain would watch his prince’s brows furrow, face concentrated as he attempted to understand a game of street poker. He would watch the prince laugh, face bright when Dain had attempted to share the minstrel shows he would see on the streets, acting out the comedic motions in the comforts of the prince’s bedroom. Kaeya would clutch his stomach, tears in his eyes from laughing so hard, claiming everything was ten times as funny when said by Dain’s deadpan expression.
One day, the two had the misfortune of needing to deal with another presence during their alone time together.
Kaeya was explaining the travels of this strange man named Gulliver, whom he had read about in a book from Rhinedottir. Dainsleif, as always, was intently listening.
“...and then the small men strapped him down!”
“Hm, I do feel like I can personally attest to short people’s capacity for anger.”
“Right? They’re so small, yet so scary.”
Just as Dainsleif was about to retort with an impassive joke, the two were startled out of their conversation with a thrice knock on the stone outside. Immediately Kaeya straightened up, fear in his eyes.
“Ms. Rhine! Dain, you must hide, hide now!”
A feminine voice called in, notifying the both of them that it really was the Alchemist Aurum.
“Kaeya? Are you decent? Do respond, I look quite insane talking to a wall like this. Though I doubt anyone would notice. Ha! Get it, cause no one comes here?”
Dain struggled to find the joke in that sentence. He looked around, panicked, before being shoved into the closet by Kaeya.
“Don’t you dare come out.” The prince hissed, slamming the door before Dain could protest to being shut in a literal closet when he was already in a metaphorical one.
There was the tell-tale sound of the stone door opening, and Dain sighed, resigning himself to staying there until the strange alchemist left. There was a little bit of lighting in there, at least, due to the fact that Rhine liked to utilize fireflies instead of technological light for Kaeya’s room. Something about the aesthetic of it all? Whatever, eccentric scientists were never Dain’s forte anyways.
Dain wanted to listen in on the conversation, but the sounds were too muffled for him to hear anything. So, naturally, his curiosity turned towards the items in Kaeya’s closet. He knew he shouldn’t look through the prince’s things, but they had gotten so close, and Dainsleif was getting restless with anxiety.
Besides, maybe he could find something in here to tease Kaeya with. The man deserved it, after making fun of Dainsleif for showing up in full uniform after a training session, as he was so eager to see Kaeya that he forgot to change.
Shuffling around, the knight stared at the large expanse before him. It was much larger than his own closet, filled with ruffled shirts and tight riding pants. He noticed Kaeya had a tendency to dress loud, much like his father, despite his shy demeanor. Perhaps it was some sort of defense mechanism, to make himself seem larger than life, like the prince he was so people don’t see what was really inside. Strange, since Dain liked the true Kaeya the best.
Rifling through, he finally got to a small box at the very end of the room. Inside were a couple of books, some basics for preschoolers. Dain assumed this was a box of Kaeya’s childhood things, and immediately wished to know what was inside.
Kaeya didn’t talk a lot about his childhood, no matter how open Dain was about his own. The prince always showed genuine sympathy when Dain spoke of growing up poor, trying to find food for his ailing mother, before finally joining the knights when she died. Dain was grateful for his comfort, and wished he could provide the same comfort to Kaeya about his own struggles.
After looking past the educational material, he came across a small, leather-bound book. When he opened it, a small picture fluttered out, a picture of a rugged, blue-haired man holding a child in his arms and laughing, the epitome of fatherly joy. It was Kaeya’s baby picture, Dainsleif realized with a clench to his heart. The king looked so delighted, so happy to be holding the baby in his arms. It was a far cry from the cold, false joy that the king wore now. Dainsleif silently tucked the picture in his coat, swearing that he was just going to give it to Kaeya later, to watch his prince light up with nostalgia for when things were less complicated, when his father was open with his affection.
Flipping open the brown leather, it became instantly clear what the small book was. It was Kaeya’s childhood diary. Instantly, Dain slammed the book shut, knowing this was beyond the privacy he intended to violate. No, he would absolutely not read the prince’s innermost thoughts as a child. Absolutely not.
But, he hesitated, his mind churning to find some sort of justification, it was Kaeya’s childhood diary, not his current one. Sure, it may have been bad, but if it really was, Dainsleif swore he would leave it alone, never to even think about anything read in this room ever again. But, perhaps, if it was properly embarrassing, or even slightly joyful, well then, wouldn’t Kaeya wish to be reminded of it?
Every single brain cell Dain had was screaming at him not to do this, but he couldn’t help it. He imagined Kaeya’s face as he slipped in a joke about whatever Kaeya wrote in here, completely deadpan yet making his prince blush that wonderful color he tended to turn every now and then.
Flipping to a random page, Dain began reading, only a small portion as he had promised himself, to stave off the guilt.
/Dear Diary,
It has been yet another day, and father only grows colder, like the ice he chants for. I wish he would look at me just once more, to pat my head like he used to, and offer me a stolen cookie from the pantry. Mother is the same as always, and still hasn’t looked me in the eye. I mastered the sword techniques Ms. Rhine teaches me, though I have so little space in this room they have given me. When I attempted to show them to father, he simply brushed me off, laughing. I didn’t try to show mother again. I dream of showing them to that boy, though, the one in the courtyard.
I sneak out more often, now that I’ve found that the door opens for me too, and not just for dad, mom, and Ms. Rhine. Every night that boy practices, in the dead of night too. I wish I could go to him, to push his blond hair back and train with him, show him that I know the same things he does, even if he isn’t trapped in the walls like I am. My heart beats so fast when I see him, but I’ve never seen his whole face. I wish I could calm my heart down, I wish I could tell it to stop moving, that we will never meet this boy. When-/
“Oh abyss, I never thought that woman would ever leave. She just kept on going about some ice thing or other. Don’t worry though, she’s gone now. You are free to come out, Dai-” Kaeya stopped short of his dramatic message, finding Dainsleif at the end of the room, bent over the diary, caught red-handed.
“Ah…Kaeya…”
“What are you holding?” Kaeya’s voice called out, now eerily soft.
“This…this is just…I figured…”
“Is that…my diary?” Dainsleif stared down, frozen with guilt. There was no way he was going to fix this.
“I just…I found it, and I got uh, curious, and I didn’t think-”
“You didn’t think, did you?” Kaeya said, still scarily calm. Dainsleif got up, abandoning the book behind him.
“Listen, I swear I wasn’t going to-”
“But you did.” Kaeya’s tone was short and clipped, but not even close to yelling, or even anger.
“I mean…I just thought that…look, I can’t justify it. My actions were an invasion of your privacy, and I-”
“Dainsleif, please leave.”
“I…what?” Kaeya’s eyes turned to him, calm as still water, yet lacking their usual shine, their usual life.
“I would like to ask you, as the prince of Khaenri’ah to his knight, to leave this room until further notice.”
Dainsleif paled, and it felt like his heart was breaking in his chest. Never before had Kaeya pulled rank like this, asked him to do anything as the prince. It was terrifying, how closed off the other man was. He couldn’t imagine the expression he was making now, what he was showing Kaeya in his numbness.
“I…I understand. Goodbye, your majesty.” Dain said almost robotically, giving a perfunctory bow before turning to the door, pressing the locket to the stone, and stepping out. He turned, looking at Kaeya’s perfectly still, straight back, as the door closed, turning the passage back into a wall.
He almost asked if he was to leave the locket behind, but found that his mouth wouldn’t form the words. He walked back to his room, though it barely felt like he was moving at all. When he finally reached his bed, he lay down, not really thinking about what he was doing.
As he lay on his bed, the photograph he had tucked away earlier fluttered out, landing delicately on his sheets. As he picked it up and stared into the king’s joyful face, at small Kaeya’s tiny form, it finally hit him.
He fucked up, bad.