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EDITED 8/11/2025.
Sometimes, when he returned to the Dawn Winery late at night, Diluc would find you awake, staring at the fireplace. You would watch the flames sway and dance to an inaudible tune with a forlorn smile, paying no mind to the pyro wielder’s presence in the room. Diluc would believe your trembling form was due to the cold weather, if not for your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.
Other times, he would catch you twirling around the manor, humming quietly to yourself. The way you would pirouette with the finest flit of your arms, in tandem with your coordinated steps, always left Diluc awestruck, glued in place. In the countless balls he’s attended, he had rarely seen anyone carry themselves with such grace, elegance, and poise as you did.
Tonight was one of those nights. Usually, he would offer you his hand with a courteous smile. However, the rift that existed between you two was preventing you from dancing together.
It was a rift that you both had created, yet never properly addressed.
__________________________________________
“I think my nose is going to snap off.” You grumbled through chattering teeth. You gripped your cloak closer to your trembling body, but it did little to keep you warm. Puffs of air left your lips with every shallow exhale. The snow nipped at your uncovered skin with no remorse, leaving behind bright red marks.
Yet you would bear the sheer cold with immense vigor if it meant you could admire the majestic landscape before you.
A balletic flurry of white flakes danced its way down to the ground, borne by the cold wind. Some of its figurants would obstruct parts of your vision for a moment; in the next, they would continue to twirl their way down.
Snow covered everything: from the pines’ branches up to the mountain’s summit, all you saw was white. Small chunks of floe drifted aimlessly across the flatwater lake before you. In the distance, you could make out what appeared to be a ribcage of grand stature, and a path under it for the valiant to follow.
You craned your head back to try to get a better look at the crown of the mountain. Dark, stormy clouds swirled around its peak, obscuring whatever mysteries the mountain held.
Despite it being beautiful, peaceful, and serene, Dragonspine was also incredibly dangerous.
“A perfect backdrop for bloodshed.”
You lowered your head with a quiet laugh. Leave it to Tartaglia to disturb the silence with his lust for battle.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, looking to the side. Copper hair contrasted with the snow white background, yet strangely enough, the two colors complemented each other fairly well.
“Are you cold?” Childe deflected.
You shifted in your seat to get a better look at the Harbinger, who was approaching your huddled figure with a relaxed smile. He had a cloak in his hands, one that seemed a lot thicker and warmer than the one you were wearing. He stretched his arm out towards you, offering you the garment. With a sheepish smile, you took it.
While you draped the cloak over yourself, Childe took a seat next to you. You caught a whiff of sandalwood, as well as… vanilla? Amber? Was the scent coming from the shroud, or from him?
“You didn’t answer my question.” you noted, brushing the snow from your hair.
“Am I not allowed to explore all the wonderful landmarks Teyvat has to offer?” Childe quipped, earning a snort from you. With a laugh of his own, he continued, “I like to come here from time to time. Though the weather here is nothing like the ferocious cold back in Snezhnaya,” he looked at you with a wistful glint in his cerulean eyes. “It reminds me of home.”
Home.
You nodded, a compassionate smile etching on your face. You patted him on the shoulder, taking note of the way his posture deflated with every heavy sigh.
You turned to look back at the floating chunks of ice before you, retracting your hand from his shoulder and resting it on your lap. A comfortable silence fell over you two as you both observed the placid scenery (save for the Fatui skirmishers lurking around) in front of you.
“Congrats, by the way.”
With a questioning hum, you looked up at Childe, who only motioned at the ring in your hand with his head.
“Oh!” you exclaimed, looking back down at your hand with a grin. “Thank you.”
You both studied the ring resting snugly on your finger. Even though it was simple in appearance, the gold band and shiny ruby in the center of the ring, which was securely held in place with gold prongs, suggested that its buyer paid a decent amount for its design.
You touched the glittering gem and pictured it was your fingers grazing Diluc’s. Although he seldom removed his gloves, you could always feel the warmth of his gentle grip. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you recalled the private moments you shared with the winery tycoon: the stolen kisses, the impromptu waltzes around Angel’s Share after-hours, and the reserved smiles that only you could elicit from him.
Like a moth to a flame, you were captivated by the blazing fire in his eyes the moment you stepped inside the tavern with the Traveler. Call it a crush at first sight: whether it was his seemingly aloof and mysterious character that caught your interest, or his gentle and attentive nature that sent your heart thumping and your voice stuttering, you were smitten.
And whether it was your resolute manner in helping the Traveler, or your carefree spirit that he too once had before meeting tragedy, Diluc was gradually enthralled by you, too.
You had tagged along with the Traveler’s expedition to Liyue. Upon coming out of their search empty-handed, however, the Traveler decided it was best to take a breather and mingle in both nations for a bit. It was then that you decided to leave their party and return home.
Home. Home, in Mondstadt. Home, with Diluc.
You gently patted your knees. “I should probably get back.” You breathed out, holding onto the borrowed cloak with one hand and placing the other one on the floor beside you to help yourself up.
The Harbinger was quick to rise from his seat as well. “How about I walk you back?”
You raised a brow in amusement. “Since when were you one to practice chivalry?” you teased, crossing your arms over your chest. “Last time you offered to help someone, you ended up betraying them.”
Childe rubbed the nape of his neck with an unabashed smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “It’s dark out there. Better safe than sorry, right?”
You held his gaze with narrowed eyes. Did he forget that you were a Vision wielder as well?
“Wait,” you began, tilting your head slightly. “You know where I live?”
Childe groaned, pinching the corners of his eyes. “If you put it like that, then obviously it sounds weird.” He inaudibly grumbled something to himself before speaking up, “The Traveler might have slipped up and told me where you were living.”
“You weren’t trying to beat it out of them, were you?”
“Just who do you take me for?”
You raised a brow at him, not saying anything else. After a few moments of silent deliberation, however, you let your arms fall to your sides with a defeated sigh. Turning on your heel, you said, “Fine, but I’m not sparring with you again.”
The orange-haired man laughed. “Fine by me!”
Childe suggested walking back to the manor rather than using waypoints. Puzzled (and quite suspicious), you didn’t object. Better to bite your tongue than disagree with a Harbinger.
The trip back was strangely quiet - too quiet, except for the occasional snap of fallen twigs or crunch of dead leaves underfoot. Soon enough, though, grass turned into dirt, indicating your proximity to the general area of the Dawn Winery. You could feel Childe's tension flowing off of him in waves; it made you clench your jaw and ball your hands into fists in anticipation.
Once the manor was in view, you suspired. “Okay Fatui boy, what’s on your mind?”
“How would you like to join the Fatui?”
You stopped in your tracks. “What?”
“You heard me.”
You pivoted on the balls of your feet, wide-eyed in bewilderment. That’s what he was thinking about?
You chuckled nervously. “Me? Joining the Fatui?” You clutched the free ends of the cloak tightly, hoping Childe couldn’t sense your unease. “Why would I want to join you?”
Gone was his boyish demeanor; instead, an air of self-assertion surrounded Childe as he stared at you with uncharacteristically hard eyes.
“You’ve proven to me that you can fight. You’d be a valuable asset in the Tsaritsa’s grand plan.”
“I don’t-“
He took a step forward, shutting you up.
“Think about the role you could play, (Y/N). This world could be cleansed of its evil with your help.”
Another step forward. His banner gently fluttered behind him.
“If you were under my authority, I could perhaps ask Her Majesty to consider you for a Harbinger position.”
Another step forward. This time, you altered your stance, shifting your weight to your rear leg to keep some distance between you and Tartaglia.
Still, he pressed on. “We could be equals, (Y/N). We could help her Majesty perfect the world, together.”
You glanced down at your hand, turning it over to see your ring. What made Tartaglia even consider asking you in the first place?
“You can obtain whatever you desire, comrade.”
Whatever you desire? What you desired were the things that you already had: good friends and a peaceful life, and the ability to enjoy a leisurely stroll down the cobblestone streets of Mondsadt without a care in the world. You had the opportunity to see part of the world-- albeit a small part, but it was a wonderful opportunity nonetheless.
You had Diluc. His crimson eyes reappeared in your mind: warm, passionate, and full of determination. Determined to protect Mondstadt in his own way; determined to find out the real cause of that unfortunate event; determined to protect you at all costs, even if it meant putting his own life on the line.
But what if by joining the Fatui, you could help Diluc uncover the real culprit behind that fateful night? Could you perhaps see, explore, and learn more about Teyvat? Surely being a dispatched agent wasn't a difficult task— the skirmishers back in Dragonspine wandered all over the place during their patrol, you gathered. Maybe then you could sneak away during your post to discover the mysteries of the Abyss.
But… becoming a Fatui agent—the one organization Diluc despised more than the Ordo Favonius—meant betraying your fiancé. It meant breaking his trust, abandoning him to satiate your own selfish curiosities. Would he look at you with distaste in his eyes then? Would he speak to you the same way he spoke to the Knights, or to the Fatui diplomats? Would he want to see you? Would he still want to be with you?
A heavy pat on your shoulder broke your train of thought. You raised your head to meet the Harbinger’s unwavering gaze.
“Sleep on it.” he mumbled, reaching in to readjust the coat on your shoulders. His gaze flickered down to the silver clasp he was fumbling with.
“Keep it—it looks good on you.”
Stumped, you could only watch as he stepped back and spun around to walk away, but not before flashing you a small smile. Almost instantly, your hand flew up to grab the clasp. It was warm, but it also felt cool under your touch.
You slowly turned around and began walking the other direction, eyes trained on the dirt ground. What just happened?
Maybe going to Dragonspine wasn’t a good idea, you thought to yourself.
__________________________________________
The door swung shut, and the sound caused you to perk up instantly. With a joyful smile, you jumped from your seat by the fireplace and hurried to the entrance, throwing your arms around your beloved fiancé.
The embrace felt different.
Instantly, your smile faltered. He was always warm, a comforting hearth in human form, but now he felt rigid as stone beneath your touch. It wasn't just the lingering chill of the night air; this was a deeper, more profound cold that seemed to emanate from within him. You leaned back, your hands still resting on his chest, and searched his face for an answer. “Is everything alright, Diluc?” you asked, your voice now laced with concern.
Diluc didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on a point just over your shoulder, and his usually vibrant crimson eyes—the ones you were so captivated by—were like dull embers, banked and hiding their fire. A shadow of irresolution shrouded his unwavering demeanor, and the silence stretched between you, thick and unnerving.
“Diluc?“ you tried again, a nervous laugh catching in your throat. ”You seem tired. Was the journey back difficult?”
Diluc finally looked at you then, and the dimness in his eyes made your stomach clench with worry. He gently pushed himself away from your light hold, the small gesture feeling like a chasm opening between you. His frown deepened.
“How long?” he whispered, his voice so hoarse and strained it was almost lost to the crackle of the nearby fire.
When he did, your breath hitched in awe. An ardent inferno now flickered in his eyes, so bright, so dangerous, it nearly rivaled the blazes dancing in the fireplace.
You tried reaching out to him. “Diluc?”
“How long?” He repeated, more firmly this time, while taking a step back. You noticed his clenched jaw and almost imperceptible scowl, and your hand limply fell back to your side. “How long have you been seeing him?”
“Who?” you queried, the question leaving your lips before you could stop it, though a cold knot of dread was already forming in your stomach.
Diluc let out a bitter, sarcastic titter that was nothing like his real laugh. He turned on his heel to face the fireplace, presenting his back to you—a rigid, unbreachable wall. The firelight danced across his shoulders as he stared into the flames.
“Don't play coy, (Y/N),” he said, his voice chillingly steady. He still wouldn't look at you. ”The Harbinger.” The title came out like poison, each syllable sharp enough to cut. ”How long have you been seeing him?”
The quiet accusation hung in the air, and the deliberate rejection was a physical blow. “Were you spying on me?” you asked, your voice sharp with hurt.
“No,” he shot back, his shoulders tensing. He answered a little too quickly for his own liking. “I was on my way back. I saw you with him.”
“I wasn't seeing him, Diluc,” you countered, taking a small step toward his unmoving figure. “If you were watching, you would have known that.”
“What I know is that I don't like him anywhere near you,” Diluc retorted, his voice low and dangerous.
“He hasn't done anything to me!”
At this, Diluc finally turned, and his intense gaze pinned you in place. “And have you ever stopped to wonder why that is?” he questioned bitterly, his control finally snapping. “He's a Harbinger. He‘s unpredictable, and that's what concerns me.”
His words echoed in the tense silence. Why hasn't he eliminated you? The question ran through your mind, and your hand instinctively went to the silver clasp at your throat, your fingers tracing its cool, unfamiliar shape. Childe could have let you freeze, but instead, he gave you a spare cloak.
“Keep it—it looks good on you.”
"What is that?"
Diluc’s voice cut through your thoughts. His eyes, now cold and sharp, were fixed on the unfamiliar gleam of silver at your collar.
There was no point in lying. You sighed, your hand falling away from your throat. “He gave me this cloak,” you murmured, watching as his beloved eyes narrowed to slits. “And he told me to keep it.”
If looks could kill, the garment would be disintegrating twelve feet underground.
When he finally spoke again, his voice was dangerously quiet. “What else did he say?”
You paled, the truth feeling like a shard of glass in your throat. “He told me to consider joining the Fatui.”
Dread, cold and absolute, gnawed at him. “And what,” he began, subconsciously balling his hands into fists. “did you say?”
The question hung in the air, and a suffocating stillness descended upon the room. The only sounds were the crackling of the fire and the distant, rhythmic tick of a clock. Tick… tick… tick.
You opened your mouth, desperate to explain, to defend, to say anything—but no sound came out. The words dissolved into ash in your mouth.
What did you say? You felt your eyes begin to sting as realization set in.
Nothing. You said nothing.
And yet, that said everything.
Tears of panic and self-recrimination began to sting your eyes. Why didn't you say no? Why didn't you just walk away?
You watched as Diluc's eyes drowned in a sea of unspoken truth. He looked hollowed out, as if the very foundation he stood upon had crumbled beneath him.
Diluc had watched the Harbinger approach you and lean in to fix your- his cloak. He saw the way he smiled at you: seemingly innocent, but tainted with wickedness. It made his blood boil, but your passivity upset him more.
What kind of association did you have with him that Diluc wasn’t aware of? Why didn’t you tell him? Why?
He looked at you, at the tears now freely rolling down your cheeks. He had composed himself once more, but there was no denying the dejection in his eyes.
“Why?” he asked, the single word a hollow sound, all its previous intensity gone.
He made no move to wipe your tears away. He couldn't. Instead, he turned his back on you and headed for the door.
“Diluc, please!” you cried out. "I can explain!"
You took a single, stumbling step in his direction, your hand outstretched toward his retreating figure. But your feet felt as though they were fused to the floorboards, held in place by the crushing weight of your silence.
Diluc’s hand froze, hovering over the cold brass of the doorknob. Every muscle in his back was tense, a portrait of a man at war with himself. He squeezed his eyelids shut, your desperate plea echoing in his ears. His heart ached, but to turn around now, to look at you, felt impossible. It was a pain he could not face.
You stood there, paralyzed, your hand still extended in an offering he would not take. “Please…” you repeated, but the word was a ghost of a sound, lost in the space between you.
With a final, shuddering breath, his gloved fingers tightened around the knob. The quiet, definitive click of the latch turning was the loudest sound you had ever heard. He pulled the door open without looking back and stepped out into the night, shutting it firmly behind him. The click of it locking into place was the final, severing blow.
For a long moment, you stood there, dumbfounded and heartbroken, your arm falling limply back to your side. The flames in the hearth continued to sway and dance to their own rhythm, casting flickering shadows across the room. But you didn't dance at all.
How could you, when you were the only one left on the floor?