Work Text:
Jean paced around her desk for the nth time that day, eager for some last minute administrative task to present itself as the sun tucked itself deeper into the pocket of the horizon. She was well aware that on a Friday night the chances were slim to none and diminishing exponentially as the sun dropped lower. If tonight were a normal night she also might have left work behind and headed home by now. Which still would’ve been late compared to the shifts of other Favonius Knights, but…
But one doesn’t become the Acting Grand Master by keeping typical work hours.
Besides, this wasn’t even a normal night to begin with. Tonight was Ambush Night.
Twelve Days Prior:
Everything had started almost two weeks earlier, when Jean had received a message. It was folded into a tight bundle barely half the size of Jean’s palm and tied around the chest of a messenger pigeon with what appeared to be a scrap of butcher’s twine.
Timmy was a sweet boy, and his seeing him devote himself so wholeheartedly to the birds of Mondstadt was incredibly endearing. Jean didn’t have the heart to tell him that his pets were just another tool for the Knights of Favonius, or that the only reason they tolerated his play was because Jean’s first task of every morning was feeding the birds, mucking their coop, and inspecting each one for missives like this one.
Cgnh Fjwo ox Nwona cqn UxEnuh pjon… Nena bx vjwh jwrvjub…jwm vnw.
The jumble of letters would have deterred the Dandelion Knight if it hadn’t been an expected step in her plan.
The only reason any of this happened in the first place was because Adler was such a recent addition to the Knights of Favonius. He hadn’t held a position of authority for long, and he didn’t have a reputation that was associated with the authority-holding insignia. So, after overhearing a few conversations in Springvale a month prior, he had come to Jean with unsettling news. He had seen men gathering at irregular hours of the night with increasing amounts of hunting weapons. In response, Jean had pivoted his duties from in-uniform patrols to trying to infiltrate the group, pretending to be any regular man. Thankfully, Adler was successful, and had come to Jean’s desk regularly with debriefs.
The men were poachers. They were new to the game, and amateur in the sense of how they handled themselves, but despite just making their way onto the scene, they were already organising hunts with rapid speed - after all, poachers aren’t poachers just for the sport. Adler learned that their most coveted pelt of the moment was that of the Snow Fox. For one thing, the fur was incredibly soft and insulating. But, more importantly, the fur was gorgeous. A blue-tinted snow white, often with periwinkle streaks along the back. Achieving that sort of color in a dye would prove difficult, not to mention maintaining it. Muffs and neck warmers made from Snow Fox would make gorgeous status symbols for those willing to shell out the high price point.
The last update Jean had received was that the party Adler infiltrated was planning a trip to Dragonspine some time soon. The location's purpose was twofold: to hunt for Snow Foxes, and to meet up with some Liyue poachers to barter items with . After all, Liyue specialties would fetch more money in Mondstadt, and vice versa. Adler promised to do as much as possible to sabotage the hunt once the day came, and to give Jean updates about when they planned to head to Mondstadt to sell.
Jean pocketed the note and headed back towards her office to decode it. She and Adler had agreed on a cipher to use for their communications, just in case their messages were to be intercepted, no one would readily figure out what they were talking about.
17 letters forward. Jean didn’t feel it necessary to let anyone other than her or Adler know about the cipher. So while it was tempting to have Lisa make her an enchanted object to make the translation, Jean never trusted anyone as much as she did herself. That day she sat at her office, scrap paper and pen in place, and did the careful process of decoding the message.
Cgnh Fjwo ox Nwona cqn UxEnuh pjon… Nena bx vjwh jwrvjub…jwm vnw.
They Want to Enter the LoVely gate… Ever so many animals… and men.
Adler knocked it out of the park. Jean teemed with delight at how well Adler had taken to his training with the Knights. He left behind two additional levels of abstraction, guaranteeing that no one would be able to gleam the true meaning of the missive besides him and Jean. She quickly took each capital letter T-W-E-L-V-E… So, there would be a large group of men, assumedly in a covered wagon to smuggle in their wares, heading towards the walls of Mondstadt in twelve days' time.
That gave her plenty of time to plan a counter attack.
It wasn’t that she didn’t believe that Swan and Lawrence were strong enough— there were just too many unknowns. For one thing, it was the unconfirmed number of enemies that they would have in the wagon. That was something Adler couldn’t confirm himself until it would be too late.
But more importantly, it would not do well for the people of Mondstadt to have such an encounter happen so close to the city itself, in terms of both public safety and public attitude. It was important that the townspeople felt safe, and the best way to keep them safe was to deal with known evils from as far away from the walls as possible.
The plan was to ambush the team at the base of Dragonspine, with Adler leading them a ways off the path, following the instructions from the ciphered message Jean had sent in response. This way it would corner the caravan along at least one side. She planned to take Amber and a handful of the other Knights on this task force. And while they were all more than capable, the party lacked two important assets: Familiarity with the Dragonspine area at nighttime, and stealth. Since they would be performing a night ambush, they wouldn’t be able to have torches out for very long. Plus, not everyone would have an Elemental Vision to help them traverse safely across the rocky trails.
And when it came to stealth, there was only one person that came to mind.
10 Days Prior:
“What honor did I receive to be asked to have a private meeting with the Grandmaster herself?” the voice said sarcastically, shutting the door behind her. Jean concentrated on holding her gaze at the stacks of papers on her desk, as if she was so busy she couldn’t be bothered to look up at the gorgeous long legs that approached her, encased in fencenet stockings of all things. Or the pretty soft eyes. Or the feminine curve of an exposed hip. Or the sloping nose. Or the rounded, voluminous hips.
No.
Jean was simply a hardworking woman who definitely was not going to ogle over the woman she definitely did not have a crush on.
“Or perhaps it’s that I’ve done something wrong and this is my time of reckoning at last?” Rosaria teased, taking a seat at the other side of the desk and propped her head on her folded hands, elbows perched at the edge of the desk.
“Please, Sister Rosaria. You have done nothing wrong in the eyes of the Knights. In fact, I brought you here because we are in need of your help.”
Rosaria made a pursed face, an expression like she’d tasted grape juice when she’d expected wine. “Oh?”
“Yes. You have unique assets that I think are imperative to a mission I’m leading in the next few days.”
Jean went over the basic idea of the mission, switching between looking up at Rosaria and down at her notes— not because she needed to reference the material written there, but to give her something to look at other than Rosaria’s gaze. While her expression was mellow, the nun never took her eyes off of Jean in a way that made her uneasy.
As Jean wrapped up her debrief, Rosaria leaned back in her chair. “I see. So you need a night walker?”
Jean blushed at the double entendre. “Yes, and I think you’re the best in Mondstadt.”
“I assume there will be payment for my services?”
“Of course.” Jean slid paperwork across the desk. “You will be treated as a contractor of the Knights, which gives you protections written in this top section here—” Jean pointed at the large paragraph near the top of the paper, hoping Rosaria wouldn’t notice the nervous tremor in her hands “— and your pay rate is detailed in this section below. You can take this home with you and read it over, but I’d prefer to know your answer in the next few days so I can continue planning more concretely.”
Rosaria took the paper from under the hold of Jean’s finger and brought it closer to her. She skimmed over the details of the contract with her consistently unbothered gaze. She leaned forward with a soft hum, over Jean’s desk, and plucked the pen closest to Jean’s edge of the desk. Jean couldn’t help but take in Rosaria’s extended form, recognizing that this was the closest she had maybe ever been to the other woman.
“It will be a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Jean.” Rosaria said, settling in her seat and signing the bottom of the contract with a sharp, agular flourish.
Ambush Night:
Kaeya stuck his head into Jean’s doorway, taking pity on Jean’s tense form as he stepped in to lean his weight against the doorframe. “Just go to Angel’s Share now. There’s no work related to tonight that you can do here.”
Jean tutted, reluctant to show agreeance. To show the foolish hand she had been playing with all evening, nervous for tonight for a reason that was ridiculously insignificant in comparison to the actual responsibilities she had to handle that night.
She felt like a petulant schoolgirl, embarrassed to be paired off with a crush. While Kaeya didn’t know that her nerves came from such a pitiful place, he was more than familiar with handling Jean’s tense moments. “There’s no work here, Jean. Don’t stay in the place that you associate with constantly expecting the next disaster.”
Curse you, Cavalry Captain.
“You’re right,” Jean finally admitted, heaving a sigh. She started gathering her sword and equipping her scabbard. “You’re right, you’re right. I hate when you’re right, Kaeya.”
Kaeya matched her good humor with an easy smile. “Then you must be furious with me all of the time.”
“Fuming.” Jean laughed, approaching the doorway. He let her through, going back into her office to blow out the candles she had left lit in her haste. With a final departing wish for safe travels from Kaeya, she was on her way. And as soon as she was on the other side of the Headquarter doors, she let her mind wander as she walked to Angel’s Share.
Tracing over Rosaria’s admirable qualities was a practice Jean wasn’t unfamiliar with, even considering how infrequently the two of them interacted. Every time Jean crossed paths with her in the library, or had errands to run at the Church of Favonious, it would reignite an interest and a train of thought that would carry her for days on end.
Surely it was a fact, rather than presupposition, that Rosaria was beloved by anyone who crossed her path. She had everything that anyone could want. The ideal woman, upon any level of inspection. Admirable.
“Is this seat taken, Sister Rosaria?” Jean asked with a lilt, mocking the formalities she knew the other disdained.
Rosaria gave a scoff and a smirk before pushing the stool back with her foot and giving an equally sarcastic, “All yours, Acting Grand Master Jean.”
Jean nodded politely before taking a seat and making herself comfortable along the bar.
Jean thought she had plans for every contingency that could happen tonight. She was affronted by the realization that she had overlooked the whole part of having Rosaria assist the Knights in their ambush mission where she would have to talk casually with Rosaria about anything unrelated to the mission beforehand.
This could be bad. Perhaps she could simply not address the drop dead gorgeous woman sitting beside her until they both took their respective helms leading the group. At that point, any words she’d need to say would come from a place of action, of business, of profesisonalism. They’d come not in the form of trite small talk but of commands, of orders, of “Understood”s. For the sake of the mission she would put aside her desire to dally off and imagine what it would be like to run her fingers through Rosaria’s bordeaux hair, how thick and how soft it would be in her hold.
Why did Kaeya convince her that waiting the rest of time at Angel’s Share, a place with limitless unknowns, was better than her office where her own anxiety was a calculable evil?
Jean flagged down Charles and ordered a black tea, eager for the caffeine boost. He, eternally diligent, brought out a steaming cup and saucer within minutes.
Rosaria extended her glass towards Jean’s tea, tilted the stem in her hand, and clinked the rim of the glass against the gold plated rim of the cup.
“Cheers.”
Oh Gods.
Jean brought the cup to her lips and drank. Her eyes followed Rosaria’s glass as it rose to meet the other woman’s sharp, smirking lips. Once she realized it would be noticeable that she was focusing on the other woman’s mouth, she made herself take another swallow of tea in an attempt to keep her heart down from where it was swelling in the base of her throat.
“Cheers,” Jean brought herself to respond before the silence became too impolite. “Again, I can’t express my gratitude enough for you agreeing to help us on this mission. I feel much safer knowing we have your expertise.”
“Such flattery, Grand Master. Don’t make a girl blush. I’m just glad I could be useful. The nuns have given up on inviting me to help on their tedious tasks, this is an incredibly refreshing change of pace.”
“That surprises me. I was expecting to have to compete to take time from your schedule.”
Rosaria scoffed, “That seems rich coming from you. Isn’t having everyone in the city of Monstadt vying for your time the basis of your job?”
“I suppose so,” Jean blushed, tracing circles with her finger along the bartop. “I’m not the type that handles the attention like you do.”
Rosaria hummed, taking another sip of wine. “You seem to think of us as entirely different people. Why is that?”
It seemed so obvious to Jean. How embarrassing to be asked to explain it out loud.
“Our reputations are quite opposite, aren’t they?”
Rosaria’s eyebrows quirked up in interest. “Are they? Please, enlighten me.”
“You aren’t concerned with what people think. You’re so confident and unapologetic.”
Rosaria paused, drinking the words in. “And are you concerned with what people think?”
“I have to be. To an extent, anyway. As much as I’d like for my position to be focused only on doing the right thing and making Mondstadt better, I’d be lying if handling my own optics wasn’t a necessary part of that.”
“Hm, I see. You’ve made yourself the symbol of safety. Our own Dandelion that will never drift away. It’s charming, but surely a burden.”
Jean raised her eyebrows in admittance, then remembered her place “I suppose, but—”
“‘But it’s all in a day’s work’?” Rosaria predicted.
Jean sheepishly tilted her chin back into the rim of her glass, hiding her expression. “More like ‘but it’s a burden that I believe must be shouldered alone”
It was increasingly awkward for Jean to be so intensely analyzed like this— to be viewed as something beyond Jean Gunnhildr, Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonious, but rather as Jean, the undoubtedly flawed woman who took it upon herself to play that role.
She had been parrying Rosaria’s lunges for too long. Time to pivot.
“Do you think I have been successful, then? Have I made a symbol of myself that’s worthwhile? Have my oh-so-valiant efforts been worthwhile so far?”
“I’d rather hold my tongue, I worry my opinion might make you upset right before we have to go on our mission.”
“I’d hope I’d have enough composure to take it. Besides, you don’t seem the type to worry about that sort of thing.”
Rosaria conceded, uncrossing and recrossing her legs at the ankle. “It’s just that— that whole sort of notion doesn’t really interest me personally. I don’t see you as a symbol of peace for the town. I don’t need that sort of reassurance. I can’t personally bring myself to care much about those who do. But I suppose if it makes people feel happier and safer than they would have been without it, then I think you’re doing a very noble duty. And…” she mules over her drink, swirling it at the stem. “I think it’s interesting that you’re so public facing. It’s something I could never do.”
“Don’t tell me Sister Rosaria is shy.” Jean asked the question before thinking to acknowledge any of what the other points Rosaria brought up about herself. To Jean’s relief Rosaria didn’t seem to notice, chuckling huskily instead. “I suppose in many ways I am, yes.”
“I find that surprising, considering how confident and aloof you are every time I see you. I’d like to have that sort of attitude myself one day. To be so self assured in my duty that i’m not beheld by whether or not others like me for it.”
“Do you think other people around town don’t like me?” Her tone was again playful, unbothered. “I’m not really aware of their opinions of you, but I am incredibly familiar with my own.” What was she doing? The cadence of their conversation had flowed too well, at too fast of a click. Why did she just say that?
“Oh? And what might that be?”
Time to parry once more.
Jean adjusted her posture, sitting up straight on the stool. “I thought you said you didn’t care about that sort of thing?”
The two of them met eyes, Jean holding her own countenance firm, though the front she was putting up was obvious. Rosaria quirked an eyebrow at her before laughing again, this time louder and clearer than before. Jean pocketed that laugh, already seeing how it would replay in her head over and over again like water lapping over a stone, polishing it over time. The reward of getting this reaction, the intimacy revealed by Rosaria tipping her chin back in delight, the private moment of Jean being able to glance over the stretch of her neck... She could already see the fantasies she would make out of this.
“I suppose you have me there, Miss Gunnhildr.” Rosaria said, settling her elbow against the bar. She sighed, then crooned out the most fucked up thing Jean had ever heard in her life. “Now it will forever remain a mystery what the strongest, prettiest woman in Mondstadt has to say about me.”
The what.
Jean could only laugh. “Ha. ha. Haaaa.”
“Do you think I say that in jest?”
“I can only assume so, yes.”
“So you’re going to try and fish the compliments out of me, then?”
“If I were to say that I truly didn’t believe you, would that count as fishing?”
“Let’s cut all this bullshit.” Rosaria said, blunt as ever. “Yes, I think you’re a gorgeous woman. I didn’t think that would be such a revelation, though. I would be astonished if there was any person interested in women within these walls who hasn’t yet fallen for this fatal fairytale combo of blonde hair and stormy eyes.”
The words bloomed red hot in Jean’s sternum, rising like vapors and pressing into her eardrums.
“Am I being too forward?” Rosaria asked after a moment of silence.
“No, no, not at all… I must admit I’m a bit flustered.”
“Surely this isn’t the first time someone has given you a compliment.”
“It’s the first time it’s been from someone I really admired…” Jean trailed off, waiting a beat before lifting her gaze to look up at Rosaria. Her gaze was met with pastel eyes looking right back at her. She still wasn’t used to this Rosaria. The one that was vulnerable, giving. “Or… from someone who is so entirely out of my league.”
“I’m realizing that we may be holding the same opinions of one another. ”
“Perhaps we do… and what do you suppose we do about it?”
“As much as I’d love to have a classic moment of picking up a date from the tavern and taking her back for another drink at my place, we unfortunately have a job to get to.” Rosaria said, taking one last swig of her nearly empty glass.
The reminder of work snapped Jean back into reality and the circumstances that brought her here in the first place. “You’re right. We should get going soon.”
“We should.” Jean rose from her seat first, extending her hand palm-up to Rosaria. She took Jean’s hand— Jean tried not to focus on the beautiful shape of her fingers and the short smooth manicure— and gave it a warm, knowing squeeze. Rosaria snuck her thumb out from Jean’s grip and stroked it across Jean’s knuckles, a dagger of desire unsheathed.