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vvallent1ne · 2 months

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THE HEIRESS - genshin impact

summary: Being the Heiress of the Cryo Archon, more commonly known as the Tsaritsa, was no easy task. Which is precisely why the Archon hand-picked a lowly, Monstandtian, Visionless girl.

… meet Feyre, the local bookworm of Mondstadt!

chap. I : lab safety is of utmost importance

chap. I - chap. II - chap. III (IN PROGRESS)

wc: 3.1k

"ACID..." the platinum-haired alchemist muttered quietly, paying extremely close attention to the experiment in front of him. The young girl to his right, tan skinned with flaxen hair and cobalt blue eyes, was not doing the same. Her face, therefore her ears, were facing the opposite direction, seemingly lost in her thoughts, or, perhaps, caught in the rapture of the snow's beauty.

The platinum-haired boy muttered out his previous request—no, demand, a tad bit louder than before, trying to grasp the girl's attention. She was not budging, however. This caused the alchemist to annoyingly scrunch up his nose and furrow his brows, eyes finally blinking for the first time in a few minutes before peeling them away from the ongoing experiment. They, now, landed on the girl to his right. Once the scientist noticed that the girl was not willingly ignoring him, he paused, and relaxed his facial features.

He knew that she was highly sensitive to how others perceived her—so much to the point that it affected the way she saw herself. He pitied the girl, really, for that was no way to live. In the city of the wind, in the nation of freedom, citizens were meant to enjoy their lives to the fullest, in lieu of worrying about how others viewed them. The girl, however, was sadly victim to this fear. She stayed quiet and meek, she contributed to the greater cause only when requested to, and chose to work alone on her own projects subsequently.

Hardly anyone in the city knew her—even laid their eyes on her—for she preferred to stay out of that area, due to the fact that everyone who dwelled there were enthusiastic extroverts—her exact opposites. There were just two issues with this plan. One, her brother, Captain Kaeya of the Knights of Favonius, lived there, and was very persistent in her visitation hours. And two, there was only one single library in all of Mondstadt, and that library was housed inside of the main city.

Despite the girl's avocation to disengage in conversation with every living being, she got along with the librarian, Lisa, quite well. The girl would be a frequent—if not the most frequent visitor of the library whenever she would visit the town. Over the years, Lisa had watched the girl grow up alongside her brother—er, not really alongside, since the girl was almost never caught with her dimwit of a sibling.

As the girl grew older, Lisa would try to strike up conversation more and more frequently, in order to make the girl open up to someone for once. At first, it was a shot in the dark, a terribly, terribly misaimed shot in the dark, for it did not go well. The second Lisa had said hello, even acknowledged the girl's presence, she would drop all of the books she was holding and dart out of the library faster than a hare. Lisa would sigh while picking up and examining the discarded books, deciding that she would get the girl to say something next time.

"Feyre, what are you looking at?" The chief alchemist questioned, authoritatively, yet quietly, as to not startle the girl into flight mode. The girl instantly broke from her trance after hearing the alchemist's voice so close to her left ear. The sound was dizzying, almost. The softness of his usually monotone voice. It made her brain fuzzy, yet scratched it in all of the right ways. She shook her head quickly before turning to face her lab instructor. She dared not to look him in the eyes, however, did she knew she would be enraptured by them, the aquamarine irises staring so intently into her own. She wanted to jump in them, to swim in their shallow depth, to drink in its icy flavor. She knew she would freeze immediately if she looked into them, so she alternatively looked at the ongoing experiment.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Albedo. It seems as though I were prematurely distracted for a moment. I promise to do better." Feyre spoke so quietly, so softly, that Albedo almost had to lean in to hear what she was saying. He did not need to do this, though. He already knew what she was going to say before she said it. He always knows. Despite how secretive and introverted the girl may be, she was very predictable to an experienced hypothesizer such as himself. He could see through her, as if she were made of glass. Feyre is aware of this fact, and it terrifies her. She fails to hide anything from her instructor, and it makes her shake in anxiousness almost every day. Though she had nothing to hide, she couldn't help feeling skeeved out by the way he could answer her questions before she even thought to ask them.

"Now, that's quite alright, Feyre. I just need you to pass me the sulfuric acid." Albedo requested politely, his eyes gesturing to the location of the element. Damnit. He did it again. Before Feyre even thought to ask where it even was, that genius was three steps ahead of her. His lip quirked up slightly when he saw her mask of obedience slip for a moment—already knowing what she was displeased about. It made him feel quite boastful, really, for being able to see through her facade. He knew everything about her. Her ins, her outs, the way she thinks, the way she behaves, what she likes and dislikes, the things she gets angry over, all down to how she hates the feeling of grass touching her because it makes her feel like she's being stabbed with miniature needles. He knew all of these things without her uttering a single word.

Albedo was the furthest thing from arrogant, in fact, he was often praised for his humbleness regarding his great success in his countless experiments. But figuring Feyre out was the one success he revels in every day. To know someone better than anyone else does... it was quite a flush to the cheeks. Despite this, he would never dare to brag about it out loud. Feyre was shy enough, he recalled, and he didn't want her to build up her once sky-high walls around herself again.

Feyre's nose scrunched for a split second in annoyance of her master's ability to read her so easily. It made her skin crawl with anxiety and anxiousness she never knew she had in her. Why did she feel so violated? So invaded? Why did she feel like he was trespassing over her private property? In her head, she envisioned him and his long boots and jacket, with his flowing platinum hair, catching the wind in all the right angles, waltzing right into her territory. He would capture her eyes, aquamarine completely enveloping her entire being, pulling her in, drowning her. She wondered what it would be like to die inside of his irises. He would give her a customary smirk, as if to prove that he had just conquered a great feat, breaking into her mind. The protective part of her wanted him to leave, to get out immediately—but some other part of her, the part that made her heartbeat quicken whenever the blond was particularly close to her, wanted Feyre to beg him to stay.

The girl reached over to her right and saw the sulfuric acid right where her mentor told her it would be. She mentally scowled. She grabbed the top of the Erlenmeyer flask with her gloved hand before passing it to the scientist. He gently took it from her, making the grave mistake of looking into her eyes while doing so.

To say that Feyre was freaked would be an understatement. The girl was absolutely star-struck. So much so that the flask filled with acid slipped from both her and Albedo's hold, shattering over the semi-snow covered ground. Albedo backed away on instinct, attempting to push Feyre away as well. Unluckily, Albedo was the only one who wore his lab safety garments, leaving Feyre completely vulnerable to the dangerous chemicals that were now exposed to her. The acid splashed back up from the ground, causing several droplets to land on Feyre.

She screamed like the sky was going to fall and crush them both. It burned. It burned. It burned. It hurt so very badly. Feyre gripped her wounds in pain, from what she could tell, the droplets landed on her collarbone, upper left thigh, and ironically enough, the back of her neck. She grunted animalistically, disregarding the volume of her voice as she yelped like a fox in a bear trap. Tears sprung loose from her icy irises as her incessant screaming continued.

Albedo immediately rushed to her side, pulling her over by her waist to the small sink in the back of the lab for safety purposes. He looked over her body, not quite seeing where she was hurt. He gripped her chin, along with her cheeks, and turned her sobbing eyes toward him. She looked utterly dejected. Droplets of tears so big and so many it stained her cheeks a shade lighter. Her eyes were almost forced shut, leaving the sliver of her vision to see her teacher's fretting gaze.

"Where does it hurt?" He asked, his voice different from what it usually sounds like. It was concerned, unsteady, worrying, which only made Feyre cry more as the pain from the burn seemed to increase tenfold. She managed to understand what her partner was asking, it seems, because she lifted her quivering arm up to point to her collarbone, her fingers flexing and unflexing, looking for some semblance of comfort. She then guided her hands to her upper left thigh, the burn visible through the hole disintegrated in her shorts. She grunted and used her other hand to cover her mouth as she breathed heavily, another wave of pain rolling over her. Lastly, she pointed in the direction of the back of her neck, before her arm gave out and she began to scream again, her mouth not-so-very effectively muting the sound.

Albedo understood and blasted the water from the sink, knowing exactly what to do. He read this, one day, very long ago, that when one gets a sulphuric acid burn, one must rinse under high-pressure water to remove the excess chemical—therefore washing out (most) irritation from the burn area. It seemed to all come back to him now, as if his instincts took over, and all he wanted to do was to make her feel better again. It was his fault. He shouldn't have looked at her beautiful eyes, shouldn't have inched impossibly closer to the girl during the intervals of the experiment. And he most definitely shouldn't have looked at her in the way he did. So caring, so lovingly, so nurturing. He would take away all of her woes if he could, and lay them on his shoulders. He would build a fortress, a kingdom, a throne out of them and have her be exalted as royalty in the land of her worries in which he has conquered.

He took her wrist and motioned for her to climb up onto the counter by the sink. It was quite an awkward scenario. She would have to bend her legs, her body, in an uncomfortable way in order to flush the burn, but she didn't mind as long as it meant the pain would cease. After a few beats of silence, Albedo found a way for her thigh to be placed under the running water. Feyre cried more, as Albedo had surmised, and he shushed her in a soothing manner. He took his right hand and rubbed her upper back in a gentlemanly manner. He also read this once, that when in times of distress or pain, humans relied on physical touch for comfort. The book had said that gentle touches on the back or shoulders were quite helpful in scenarios like this. His touch was light, soft, fleeting—he didn't want to be too rough and injure the girl further. He traced circles onto her shoulder while she finally adjusted to the new sensation, and began to find it alleviating. She heaved a sigh of relief, the last of her tears slipping down her face and onto her lap.

After a few minutes of silence, sniffles, and the soothing lull of the running water, Albedo looked back at the burn. Still inflamed, and definitely still sensitive, but better, nonetheless. He looked up to the girl to gauge her reaction, to try and read how she was feeling. Her face was red and puffy. She looked a lot younger than she usually did, now. Her long lashes still fresh with the residue of tears, her red cheeks stained with the path they made. Her eyes downcast, she raised up her hand to touch the burn. Albedo noticed what she was trying to do and grabbed her wrist firm, but gently.

"Do not touch it. I'm afraid that will only cause more irritation," He spoke, his voice as coddling as a warm blanket on a freezing night. He looked back at the burn before turning to look at her face once more. "How are you feeling? Can I get you anything to ease the pain?" He inquired, watching the girl close her eyes slowly, most likely tired from the whole fiasco.

"No, I'm quite alright. I appreciate your help, but I'm fine now." She stated, the lilt of her voice gone, now scratchy and sharp from all of her previous screaming. As she tilted her head down in shame, her hair fell into place like dominos. The alchemist then realized that the acid had also landed somewhere around her collarbone, and looked up in a fervent hurry frenziedly.

He acted on his instincts, pushing her hair out of the way in order to look at the skin. He saw nothing, however, and instead of concern, his suspicion rose. His eyebrows scrunched as his eyes scanned over the rest of the area, finding nothing of note.

The injured girl lifted her head, curious to see what held the scientist's interest. She felt his gaze on her upper body and her cheeks immediately reddened. She quickly maneuvered her body off of the counter, dragging her burned leg out of the sink in stride. However, the absence of water on the burn caused the girl to whimper out in pain, gripping the edge of the counter.

"Archons...! Why's it hurt so much.." The girl exclaimed, eyelids squeezed together. She grasped the counter's edge impossibly harder, in an attempt to keep herself upright. She didn't have to for long, though, as the alchemist grabbed one of her shoulders, pulling her body upwards into a standing position. He placed his other hand at a respectful place on the small of her back. He guided her quickly to the lone chair close by.

As the girl sat, the alchemist turned back to the sink, getting a washcloth out of the cabinet and rinsing it under the water before shutting it off. He rung out the cloth, the sound of the droplets hitting the metal of the sink resounding throughout the room. The noise somehow grounded Feyre from the chaos. She let herself close her eyes for a mere second.

Until the alchemist returned and placed the cloth directly onto the throbbing burn. Feyre's eyes burst open as she sat up straight in the chair and grabbed the armrest, fingers whitening from the constant gripping of objects. She held back her yelp as the scientist quietly cooed her to relaxation. Feyre knew that voices could not truly alleviate pain, but if they could, Albedo's would rid her of it all. For a few stark moments, the two sat in silence, the alchemist's hand never leaving the top of the cloth over her burn. He occasionally would whisper sweet nothings to her as she'd shudder. Things like "It'll be okay" and "You're doing great". He thought they were weightless, that he was comforting himself rather than the injured, but to her, his words held great importance. Every word of his did, simply because they were said by him.

"I am afraid I do not possess any painkillers. I must go down to Mondstadt to find some. I do also need to get the Calvary Captain’s opinion on a matter . . .” The male trailed off, mostly talking to himself. He stood up slowly, removing his hand from the top of the cloth. The girl frowned slightly at the loss of contact. The alchemist began to fix his appearance, abandoning the pristine white lab coat in favor of his normal attire. He removed his goggles, along with his gloves, and grabbed his small bag, filled with his sketchbook, his notebook, and any extra paperwork he had on him. Feyre would know; she had gone through it many times in order to soothe her burning curiosity.

“Wait … I’ll come with you!” Feyre exclaimed, shoving off the damp washcloth from her burn. The male only fixed her with a pointed look, an obvious warning.

“No. You must stay here. Your burn is a serious injury, and I will see to it that you do not injure yourself further.” Albedo sternly spoke, refusing to make eye contact, because he knew that if he did, he would be forced to negotiate with the girl.

“I’m fine. I’m not a child, and the burn looks better already, look!” She pointed to the burn, which was still red and disturbing. “I will come with you. It’s about time I paid Kaeya a visit regardless …” The girl said in rebuttal. Albedo took a long breath and faced the girl.

“I would really prefer if you stayed out of harm’s way.” He spoke with no malice, just warning. But the girl already knew that she had won this battle. She smirked at his relinquished face, a rare sight, both her smirk and his renouncement.

“I’m not glass. I’ll fare just fine, thank you.” She spoke, figuratively as well as literally putting her foot down. The alchemist sighed as he accepted the unalterable. He faced away from the girl, re-fastening his bag over his shoulder, and began to make his way to the door.

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