The Cavalry Captain

Kaeya Alberich is a fucking manwhore.

His midnight itinerary is as follows: fucking, drinking, having a cock in one hand and a breast in the other. He enjoys the looks that he garners from the acting grandmaster and the librarian in the morning. How the two women’ll eye up his glazed eyes and bruised neck and either giggle or blush. It’s a heady feeling, being the object of everyone’s desires.

There’s one woman who just doesn’t get it, however. One wide eyed, fiery, passionate woman whose arms are always outstretched and gliding through the skies. A young woman of nineteen, with fluttering hair and a shiny smile.

Amber, the last Outrider.

Maybe he’s got a thing for people with pyro visions. Maybe the heat cancels out his frost. The glittering eye of his cryo vision hangs limply on his hip, where he both scorns and begrudgingly accepts it. It is a reminder of the first truth that he has ever told.

Kaeya strolls into the Favonius headquarters late one day, and to his surprise, he finds Amber sitting outside his office in a sulking heap.

It is unusual for the Outrider to be sulking. It’s like finding a flower wilting in the sun, like retrieving a pearl blackened by soot.

When Amber looks up and sees Kaeya standing in front of her, she looks back down and hugs her legs closer to her body. “The weather’s really bad today,” she clarifies.

Ah. So no wind gliding.

“And there’s nothing that needs to be done?” Kaeya asks.

“No.” She shakes her head. “The Adventurer’s Guild’s taken all of the jobs.”

“And I suppose a day off from work is out of the conversation.”

Amber shrugs. “I mean, I’d rather not.”

The words are out of Kaeya’s mouth before he can perceive them. “Say, Amber—why not be my assistant for the day?”

At this, the young outrider immediately pops up from her stupor. “Yes, absolutely! I mean—crap—I would be honoured, Captain Alberich. Please, use me as you need.”

Amber’s phrasing sends a twinge of guilt through Kaeya’s conscience. He could name a thousand Mondstatians who would kill to be in Amber’s place, to be his lap dog (or sex slave, or both) for an entire twenty-four fucking hours.

So naturally, he assigns the innocent Amber to play as his bodyguard while he wanders around the City of Freedom, sampling the food, tasting the free handouts of wine, drinking in the lascivious gazes of his prior lovers.

“Do you drink, Amber?” he asks suddenly as he sips what must be the fifteenth thumb of wine today.

She makes a face. “I mean, I can, but it doesn’t taste good.”

“It seems that you have yet to develop your palette.”

“I can just not like something.” She sticks out her tongue. “Don’t you have paperwork?”

Kaeya ignores her question. “Would you like to participate in a bit of day drinking?”

Amber falls silent. Then she asks, “What?”

“Would you like to participate in a bit of day drinking?”

“No, no,” she says, shaking her head. “I know what you said, just—if we were to be caught drinking during the day, well—”

“The Fatui would have a field day with the scandal,” finishes Kaeya. “Is that it?”

Amber nods.

“Unfortunately for you, Captain Kaeya’s got an appointment with the owner of the Angel’s Share, and it’s imperative that he make this visit before the sun sets.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean dr—”

“Oh, would you look at the time.” Kaeya smiles and stops in his tracks. “And the place.”

Amber looks up slowly. In the middle of Kaeya’s distracting conversation, they have arrived at the humble establishment of the Angel’s Share.

—

Kaeya’s Outrider sits opposite Kaeya as he downs another glass of pure wine. It is in the midst of an empty bar—not in the stuffy faux-gold gild of the Favonius offices, not in the push-and-shove of that same bar during golden hour—where he truly thrives.

It allows him time to recuperate; to breathe, before he inhales the coming storm.

But perhaps there is something of a storm in his presence concurrently. Facing him: Outrider Amber, a woman of innocent eyes and a mind denser than diamond. Standing behind the bar: Diluc Ragnvindr, the young master of the Dawn Winery, the Darknight hero and silent protector of Mondstat, and an average bartender at best.

And, Kaeya wants to fuck him. He would very much like to fuck him.

But Kaeya plays the long game—he is not one to throw in all of his coins on one horse, and he will certainly not do so now. He draws closer to Amber, then closer still. Until the apex of his bottom lip grazes the tip of her ear.

“Captain Kaeya?” she asks.

“I’ve a secret for you,” he murmurs. He darts his singular eye towards the bartender, then back towards Amber. “That man.”

“What about him?”

“What do you think of him?”

“Huh?”

“Diluc Ragnvindr.”

Amber quirks her head. “Is that the bartender’s name?”

He hums in response.

“Is that supposed to be an important secret?” she asks.

Clearly, Amber knows nothing of Mondstat’s wine industry.

The man behind the bar gives Kaeya and Amber a seething glare. Kaeya dips his head, but even the Cavalry Captain cannot keep his boyish joy to himself. He turns his attention back to Amber. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards her vision.

“Oh, absolutely!” Amber unfastens her vision from her belt and holds it out—Kaeya takes her hand in his and does not let go.

He does not let go.

Amber’s vision is a triple winged, well kept trinket that has seen more use lighting torches than eliminating the Hilichurlian threat. Kaeya knows that Diluc’s vision is put to use for far, far more nefarious reasons.

“How were you granted this vision, Amber?” he whispers.

A green-robed bard enters the inn, catching Diluc mid-scowl. At once, Kaeya knows everything, and his mood sours. He can tell in the way the man averts his gaze and begins to profusely wash the glasses that he has already laid out to dry. The “post-lovers” gaze, Kaeya has colloquially named it.

“It just appeared one day, I guess,” says Amber, her eyes glittering. “I was reading a book, and there was this line—it kind of resonated with me.”

“Tell me more,” says Kaeya, but his ears are trained on the conversation behind him. The bard is laughing, laughing, asking for another drink among other things. The bard is loud—intentionally loud, like he’s braying to the world that yes, he fucked and conquered the stoic and staunch Diluc Ragnvindr, and yes, he’s about to do it again!

“Kaeya?” Amber says. “Are you alright?”

He must’ve been scowling, but when he checks his features, he finds that they’re perfectly natural. It is an uncomfortable feeling, not knowing which part of his body has betrayed him.

“Yes, whatever gave you the implication that I wasn’t?” he answers smoothly.

“Your hands. You’re squeezing me.”

“Ah.”

He lets go.

Suddenly, the entire venture—all of those men and women that he has fondled in this bar, and whom he has fucked in the room above the bar—appears pointless. It is obvious who Diluc loves, and it is not some forgotten relic of their past, not the brother in arms who betrayed his father. Who betrayed him.

Whoever it is, it is not Kaeya. It might be the bard, it might be a woman even—but it is not Kaeya.

So he stands from his table and beckons Amber towards him. Towards the exit.

“Come away from the table, Amber,” he says with an outstretched arm.

“...Ah?” Amber takes his hand, but her expression is of pure confusion. “I thought you enjoyed the bar, Captain?”

“You can tell me the rest of your story on our stroll back to the Favonius headquarters.” He smiles. “And it isn’t courteous to drink so much during the day—I’d rather have the stomach for it later, no?”

He does not look back towards the bar as he leads the Outrider through the door.