Chapter Text
"There you are," you said, paying no mind to your fancy clothes as you plopped yourself down on the dusty floor to lean against the cold, stone wall of the wine cellar. You had found Diluc right where you had expected to whenever the winery held these public festivals.
Diluc, seated on the ground next to you, merely grunted in response, taking a swig from the glass bottle he held before he nestled it back into its place in the crook of his arm.
"People are looking for you, ya know," you commented idly.
Another grunt. Honestly, having a conversation with this man could be like pulling teeth at times. It was a good thing that you had known him long enough to have learned that once you did get him talking, Mondstadt’s grumpiest bartender was actually a huge softie with a droll sense of humor that never failed to have you clutching your sides with laughter at least once or twice before he inevitably clammed up again.
“There’s a new bard in town.” You tried again. “Goes by the name ‘Dandelion.’ Wants to woo you with a special poem he wrote just for you.”
And yet another grunt punctuated by a long swig from the bottle. Time for drastic measures.
“Hey!” Diluc cried, uttering the first word you’d heard from him all evening as you snatched the bottle from his hand and helped yourself to its contents. You lowered the bottle as soon as the drink hit your tongue and spat the sip you had taken to the side.
“This is just stale grape juice,” you said in disgust. Honestly, you should have known, but the way he was nursing the drink had you convinced it was something stronger.
Diluc rolled his eyes as a plucked the bottle out of your grip. “Wait ‘til you find out what wine is,” he remarked drily.
You laughed. There was the Diluc whose company you had sought out. “Connor would cry in shame if he ever heard you say that.”
Diluc winced. “Please don’t tell him,” he pleaded.
“Of course not,” you agreed. “No way I could break his heart like that.” You grabbed the bottle again and took a proper drink this time. Now that you were expecting the sweeter beverage, it was actually quite good. Dawn winery didn’t get its reputation for nothing, its grape juice was just as good as its wine.
“How much longer do you suppose I have?” Diluc asked with a grimace as you passed the bottle back to him.
“What, before they come bursting down here trying to marry you off to their sons or daughters? Oh, not long at all,” you teased, accepting the bottle as he passed it back to you.
Diluc groaned. “Archons, I hate this. I wish they’d just leave me alone.”
You gesture in his direction, using the neck of the bottle to point at him, ignoring the way the juice sloshed around dangerously inside, threatening to spill on Diluc, who leaned away from your waving arms with a frown. “You know what you need to do?” you asked playfully. “You need to get fake married.”
Instead of laughing at your joke, Diluc’s brow scrunched up in puzzlement. “I need to get what?”
You sighed. Leave it to Diluc to not be aware of classic story clichés. “You know, disappear for a week or two, then return with some pretty thing on your arm and just tell everybody that you’ve eloped.”
Diluc scowled. “But I don’t want to get eloped.”
Archons, but he was lucky he was pretty. Diluc was generally an incredibly smart guy, but sometimes the way he failed to employ common sense baffled you. Like when he had used slime bait near his own vineyard and had to fight off a few curious slimes every few hours for a week. Still, being (secretly) big of heart and dumb of ass was what made Diluc, well, Diluc, and you wouldn't have him any other way.
“You wouldn’t actually get eloped,” you explained slowly. “You would just pretend to. You and whatever idiot you persuaded to be your fake spouse would know, but no one else would. That way, you get to be free from all the hassle of being a bachelor, and some lucky sucker gets to, I dunno, live in the manor rent free, or something. I’m not really sure what you would offer them to make it equitable, but I’m sure you can think of something, you’re rich, after all.”
It seemed Diluc still wasn’t getting the joke as, judging from the contemplative look on his face, he was actually giving the idea some serious thought. “That... might actually work,” he said thoughtfully.
Of course he would think this was a good plan, this was the same guy who thought it would be better if the city of Mondstadt was attacked from two fronts at the same time, rather than him revealing himself as the city’s so-called ‘Dark Knight Hero.’
“There is something you do have to be very careful of, though,” you said gravely, schooling your expression into something serious.
Diluc looked at you with concern. “What?”
“You have to make sure you pick someone whom you will absolutely not fall in love with, and will not fall in love with you under any circumstances,” You said. finally passing the grape juice back to him as you realized you were still holding it. Diluc took it and set it on the floor between you. “That’s how these things always go, someone falls in love with the other one and suddenly bam!” You punched your hand into your fist for emphasis, pleased to see that Diluc had been listening to you intently enough that he started a little. “The whole scheme goes up in smoke,” you said dramatically.
Diluc rolled his eyes. “Someone I won’t fall in love with?” he repeated. “How about you?”
“Ouch!” You put your hand to your chest in mock offense. That was clearly payback for making him jump.
Something flickered behind Diluc’s eyes and you hurried to make a teasing remark, knowing that if Diluc thought he had actually hurt your feelings his social awkwardness would instantly turn him back into Mr. Tall, Dark, Silent, and Brooding.
“And you call yourself a gentleman,” you said, lightly shoving his arm.
Diluc smirked back at you, visibly relaxing as soon as he was reassured you weren’t actually insulted. “I can be a gentleman,” he said, “when the situation calls for it.”
“I’ve never seen it,” you scoffed.
“Do you want to?” he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.
You did, weirdly enough. At least a little. But rather than say that you snorted and said, “Archons, no.”
“I thought as much,” Diluc said confidently. He picked up the bottle again and finished it off, before giving you a sidelong glance. “You didn’t say ‘no.’“
“I didn’t,” you admitted. But that didn’t mean you were saying yes. After all, there had to be a reason this stuff only happened in stories, right? It’s not like this kind of game could work if attempted in real life.
“How would it even work?” you asked. “I mean, this kind of thing can only stay a secret for so long. It just takes one person learning the truth, and suddenly everyone knows. And it’s not like you can just explain away the fact that we have separate bedrooms to your staff, so that right there is where it all starts to fall apart.”
“No, it’s not.,” Diluc insisted. “It’s not at all uncommon for a husband and wife to have separate rooms. Royals do it all the time.”
You barked out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re royalty now? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you took that ‘uncrowned king of Mondstadt’ thing so seriously. And all this time I’ve been calling you by your first name. Is ‘your majesty’ too informal when we’re alone? Is it to be ‘His Esteemed Royal Highness, Diluc Ragnvindr of the Grape-Growing-Greats’ at all times?”
Diluc sighed. “Stop that, I just meant it’s not without precedent. My parents had separate rooms here when I was a kid, it’s not unthinkable.”
You blinked. You hadn’t known that. “They did?”
“Yeah,” he said. “They rarely made use of both of them, but they did. It’s expected of nobility, somewhat.”
Huh. There might be something to this plan, after all.
“And you still haven’t said ‘no,’“ Diluc said.
You hadn’t. Were you actually considering this?
“If you lived at the winery, you wouldn’t have to walk down here from Mondstadt every day,” he pointed out casually. Damn him for knowing your one weak point-- your hatred for your daily commute.
You were saved from having to answer by the torch on the wall going out with a pop, plunging the two of you into darkness. You squeaked and instinctively grabbed onto Diluc’s arm.
“Sorry,” Diluc said. “It must be a faulty torch. That’s the third time it’s gone out this week. I’ll get it.”
You felt Diluc wave his hand, and the torch flared back to life, illuminating the small corner of the cellar once again.
“Thanks,” you said, letting go of Diluc’s arm, wondering at the way Diluc’s face seemed to flare blight red in the glow of the firelight.
Suddenly, your eyes widened. “Archons, Diluc, you’re on fire again!” Was there a single pyro vision wielder in all of Teyvat that had mastered the art of not setting themselves on fire whenever they used their vision?
Diluc swore under his breath and began frantically patting his arm in an attempt to smother the flames. You helped, and, between the two of you, managed to get the small flame put out in a matter of seconds. Just another day at Dawn Winery.
Diluc stood, making sure there were no other embers lying around that could burn the whole manor down. “I should get back to the party,” he grumbled, offering you a hand to help you to your feet.
You followed him up the stairs, your earlier conversation seemingly forgotten. You were confidant that once the pressure from the party was gone the next morning, Diluc would never bring up the thought again, and you would both carry on with your lives.
But, still, neither of you had said ‘no.’