T/W: Medical procedures and mention of the whip

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It was late when the knock sounded on the door. Of course, I was awake, but being dragged out of my focus session was, well... irritating, to say the least. I slipped to the front room, tearing out the hairband I used to hold my hair up. It was tight—it had to be, lest some hair got mixed in with some medicine. I cringed at the thought. Of course, after long focus sessions such as this, holding my hair up for too long proved to be uncomfortable.

I reached the door, unlocking it before turning the handle. I was greeted with a tall body and stern face that seemed somehow strained. The eyepatch covering his right eye was somewhat unnerving, but he did not seem to present any danger. His left eye roved over my body, as if assessing me. ".. Can I help you?" I asked.

"I need some supplies."

"What kind?"

".. Just some medicine."

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

"S—salve... and some bandages."

I looked him over. "Why? Did you hurt yourself?" I knew I created medicine for a living, but this was Springvale. There wasn't much to get hurt over unless you went hunting. I examined him once more. He didn't look much like a hunter to me—at least, not in the traditional sense.

"I—it doesn't matter." He offered a cocky grin, as if trying to diffuse the tension in my body. "The materials, please." I stepped out onto the landing, circling him. This seemed to surprise him, as he asked, "Wha—what are you doing? Stop it."

"I have an obligation to check for wounds—especially when one asks for medicine."

"I don't need your help, so leave it."

"If you're hurt, you need to come inside."

"I'm fine on my own."

"Sir!" I said with a forcefulness in my tone. "If you would please listen to what I'm asking of you—"

"I said I don't need your help! All I need is the medicine."

I scowled. The sheer male arrogance emanating from this man... He was confident—proud.

It was then I noticed his hand lingering near a certain spot on his side, trying to hide the fact that it wasn't exactly in a relaxed position—and failing to do so. I lunged for his cloak, lifting it despite his cries of protest. And I saw it. I sucked in a breath through my teeth, grimacing. "Ooh... That's bad."

He shoved his cloak back down. "Will you stop snooping around?" he snapped.

I stepped back, my palms pushed together as I once more attempted to argue my point. "You need... a healer," I said, slowly, calmly. "Your easiest option would be to go to the church."

"Maybe I don't want to go to the church."

"Why?"

"Just—because."

"Why?" I pushed again.

He hushed me. "Listen... I just need... the medicine."

I lifted my brows. Why seek medicine when you could just go see the Deaconess and be healed? The situation seemed largely suspicious, especially accompanied by the vague explanations I was being given. "Who are you?"

He offered a smug smile. "Kaeya, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, at your service." He sketched a bow, trying to hide the twinge of pain he felt as he stretched and contracted his muscles. Though he wasn't doing a very good job. Even if my eyes weren't as keen as they were, I probably still would have noticed.

"Cavalry Captain?" I echoed, the situation becoming more and more absurd with every word spoken. "Sir—I implore you. Go to the church!"

"I—no. I—I can't."

"Why?" I asked for the third time.

"If I was to give an explanation you didn't like, would you turn me away?" I chewed on my lip. I wasn't a healer, but I was as close to Springvale's local doctor as they came. Not to mention I also shipped medicinal supplies off to Liyue. I couldn't turn away an injured person no matter what. He nodded slowly, as if reading my thoughts, a small smile creeping back onto his face. "You see? I've asked for your help."

I loosed a breath. "Come inside, please." I could tell he was going to refuse again, but I continued before he had the chance to speak. "You're free to refuse my services—I'll just have to advise the Favonius Church that a certain Cavalry Captain is walking around injured."

He took a step towards me. "Don't tell them."

I stepped aside, motioning for him to enter. He sighed through his nose, before doing as told. I closed the door behind me and strode forwards towards my medicinal cabinets that lined the far wall. "Take a seat," I instructed, inclining my head to one of the low-lying couches that occupied the front room. He complied, a low hiss escaping from him as he stretched his wound.

"You've come at a bad time," I said as I gathered materials. "I have yet to finish a new batch of anaesthetics—my last ones having gone to Liyue. I can use other methods, but none nearly as... comfortable." The process of repairing torn skin could hardly be called as such—which was why a healer was one's best bet. Unfortunately, not every village had one.

"I can wait until you're done," he insisted.

I walked back, salve, ice, bandages and other utensils on a silver tray. "Not with that kind of wound, you won't."

Most people would usually start to fret once they laid eyes on the needle that would help seal their wound, but to his credit, the Cavalry Captain's expression revealed nothing. "Stitches?" he asked calmly.

"The injury is worse than you thought," I replied with a hair tie in my mouth, before tying my hair up into a bun. It was a process I had repeated hundreds—thousands—of times. Elegant and seamless. It was like breathing. He watched me intently, as I assumed most Knights of Favonius did when assessing the situation. "I'm going to need you to take off your cloak so I can access the wound without interruption."

And this—more than the stitches, more than any surgery I had insisted was necessary—was what everyone balked at. But not him. He simply complied, keeping his gaze trained on me as he slowly and carefully removed his cloak—and then his shirt. Wow...

I blinked. Now was no time to admire—though there certainly was much to look at. It was like a beautiful painting, a sculpture carved by a steady artist's hand—and it had been ruined by the large gash on his side. And worse, across his chest and back were lines of burns, as if he had been flayed by whips of fire.

"What in Teyvat were you doing?" I murmured. He didn't reply—not that I had expected him to. Patients had a right to silence, anyway, and it was none of my business.

I spent a few moments cleaning out the blood that was crusting at the side of his wound, dabbing at the still damp and tender split skin with cleansing antiseptic to clear it of any blood that spilled, controlling the bleeding.

I held out a pack of ice wrapped in cloth towards him. "I'm going to need you to hold that near your wound for a few moments to numb your muscles. It will still hurt during stitching, but hopefully this will lessen the pain. Understood?"

He nodded again, doing as told. As he positioned the iced pack beside his wound, I realised that that was the first time he had looked away—looked away from me. He'd gazed at me with some form of longing, some sort of hope, when I had forced him inside. It wasn't like how some people would look at me like they were a lost puppy—like I was some saviour or other. I couldn't find the words to describe how he looked at me but... it was like he was weighing if he could trust me. Not just to heal him but to... confide in.

After a few minutes, which I had spent preparing the bandages and stitches and what not, I knelt beside the couch and spoke. "I'm going to begin. The ice will act as the anaesthetic, but it may help to focus on something other than the stitches. Find something in the room to look at and do not think about anything else. Please try and keep the ice from slipping onto the wound and keep your posture straight, but not tense." I gently moved the iced pack up above the wound, as it had slipped down. I met his gaze after briefly inspecting the injury and mapping the trajectory I would take to stitch it up. "Ready?"

He nodded. And so I began. The needle plunged into his flesh and he hissed, a hand grasping my shoulder tightly as he steeled himself.

"Focus," I instructed, firmly but gently. He sucked in a breath and nodded, lifting his head to find something to look at, as I had told him.

And so I weaved the thread into his wound, pulling skin back to skin, flesh back to flesh. Visionless, I may have been, but my hands moved with years of expertise and muscle memory. Perhaps I was incapable of healing, but I could effortlessly patch up an injury or concoct medicinal supplies without a Vision. That was my pride and joy.

Soon enough, I had pulled the wound closed, snipping off the end of the string and laying my utensils back onto the tray. I looked up briefly—only to find the Cavalry Captain staring at me. My cheeks heated as I became aware of every centimetre between our faces. "I—I thought I told you to keep your focus on something until I had finished patching your injury."

"I did."

".. On me?"

He offered a small smile. "Think nothing of anything except what I was looking at, right?"

".. That is what I told you." My face turned a deeper red and for the first time in my career, I felt flustered. I didn't even want to know what he was thinking about during the entire process, lest I devolve into a valberry. He chuckled lightly at my reaction, before wincing slightly as he pulled on the wound. "Careful," I urged him, reaching for a clean, damp cloth to wash away the leftover blood. "You can take the iced pack off now." He tossed it onto the coffee table in front of the couch. It was bloodied. I'd have to clean it before I resumed my medicinal focus session.

I loosed a breath as I finished cleaning the wound, sitting myself next to him with some salve. "What were you doing?" I asked, more to myself than to him. He seemed to relax as I rubbed the salve over his burns, the cooling sensation no doubt easing the pain and tension in his body.

He seemed hesitant to speak, but he answered, "I was... doing a commission."

I hadn't actually expected him to reply—and it seemed he would have rather not broached the subject—but I continued the conversation. Sometimes, when a patient seemed willing, it was best to try and coax out information, lest it become harmful bottled up within them. I had witnessed people driven insane by past experiences because nobody knew. And nobody could've helped them. "For the Adventurer's Guild?"

"No. It was a private commission from within the Knights. I volunteered, so Acting Grand Master Jean sent me on my way." He sucked in a breath, likely remembering what had unfolded. "Had I known the information provided was so... incomplete... I would have asked for a team of Knights to accompany me."

".. That is unfortunate, sir."

He gazed side-long at me, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "Sir?" he echoed.

I raised my eyes to his. "I—is that not polite?"

He chuckled. "Just call me, Kaeya. The title just... feels too formal."

"Ok, Kaeya..." I answered slowly.

"And yours? What shall I call you?"

"Y/n..."

He smiled, a small genuine crescent on his delicate dark skin. "It's a beautiful name. Fitting for a beautiful lady."

I felt my cheeks heat up again in response. I had never had anyone flirt with me before—never had a patient quite like him before.

It was silent for a few long moments as I gently continued to apply the salve. But a question kept nagging at me—had been since Kaeya first came. "Why didn't you... just go to the church?"

His gaze suddenly hardened as his eye roved my face—assessing me once again. Weighing the trust between us. But there was no greater trust than between a doctor and their patient, as the patient was willing to put their life into the doctor's hands.

You can trust me, my eyes conveyed, trying to coax out the truth. You can tell me anything. I'm here to help you.

Kaeya sucked in a breath and faced forwards. "Perhaps I... may have been... embarrassed."

I allowed an amused smile to cross my face. "Oh, really?"

"Perhaps I just didn't... want the other Knights to know I couldn't handle it—that I, a leading figure, had underestimated my opponent." He looked at me. "A rookie's mistake," he clarified.

I moved from his chest to the arm closest to me, rubbing the sweet-scented salve into his arms with motions similar to that of a massage. I felt his muscles loosen in response. "Do you really think they'd care about a small moment of weakness?" I couldn't keep my gaze trained on his—on that ethereal eye I had not seen anywhere else—and so focused on massaging the ointment into his arm. "I'm not a Knight but... I think I would be more inclined to follow you if I knew you weren't perfect. Because if I made a mistake... I wouldn't hate myself for it." I offered a small smirk. "Of course, I don't make mistakes."

He smirked back. "Confident, aren't you?"

"Arrogant, aren't you?" I retorted with a smile. He chuckled. "It's ok to make mistakes," I added. "And to ask for help."

His eyes flickered. "I know..." He then continued, "Springvale was just... the second-closest settlement—closest if we don't include Mondstadt. I was just going to knock on the first door I saw and request the medicine, then leave to tend to myself." He smiled again. "But I'm glad your door was the one I had the pleasure of knocking on."

I mirrored his smile. "So am I." For if he had knocked on anyone else's door, they would've complied and simply provided him with whatever medicine they had on hand. His injury would've only gotten worse—perhaps even infected—and the Favonius Church would have had to fix him up anyway. And worse... I wouldn't have been able to meet him.

I continued applying the salve to his burns and checking other matters. And when I was finally done, offering him a clean shirt which he refused, I was actually... quite sad to see him go. We stood at the door, Kaeya on the landing as we quickly recapped every instruction I had given him.

"And remember to come back—in a week's time to get your stitches checked and another week from then to get them removed. Do not engage in any strenuous activity lest you tear your stitches."

He nodded, then reached for my hand, lifting it to his lips and placing a gentle kiss on the back. He smiled onto my hand, no doubt revelling in the fact I had turned as red as a valberry. Perhaps I really was on the threshold of devolving into a fruit. "Until next time, my lady."

"No thank yous for helping you out?" I said, trying to mask the flustered emotions I felt with a boatload of words. "Your injury won't even be visible by the time it's finished healing. I think I've spared you from the embarrassment you were trying to avoid—"

I was cut off as he pulled me forward, our fingers interlaced, and planted a soft kiss on my lips. We remained there for a few moments, frozen in a dancer's pose, when he finally pulled away and smirked. "Is that thank you enough?"

I nodded. I wasn't even on this plane of existence anymore. I was somewhere else—far, far away from the world of Teyvat, if such a place even still existed. He laughed at my distant and dazed expression, before squeezing my hand and leaving. Wow...

No, I had never had a patient quite like him before. 

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A/N: Can't go too long without my Mondstadt bbg tbh I have ISSUES
Also, I just noticed that it's only when Kaeya kisses us that we ascend for some reason idk if that means something 💀

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Completed: 19-08-23
Published: 9-10-23
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Fanart credits: https://www.hoyolab.com/article/16576796