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“It’s so beautiful!” Hillie exclaims in a high-pitched voice.
If it was up to Diluc, he would like to announce his engagement to Venti to his staff properly. But the maids saw the ring on Venti’s finger as soon as they stepped out of the room minutes ago, and now, they’re surrounding Venti, gawking at the ring he’s wearing.
Really, Diluc would like some time to appreciate the ring on Venti’s finger all for himself a little more. After all, the ring used to belong to his mother, one that’s been passed on in the family for hundreds of years.
But he shouldn’t be mad at how attentive his maids are. That should mean that they can keep the manor in tip-top shape. Besides, he has his whole life to appreciate how perfect the ring looks on Venti.
“Really,” Adelinde shakes her head. “I’m relieved that Master Diluc finally proposed.”
“Relieved?” Diluc raises an eyebrow.
“Relieved,” Adelinde nods. “Because it’s about time you make Venti an honest man. You simply can’t keep living in sin.”
Is it living in sin when he’s spending it with the actual god of the city? But he can’t possibly tell Adelinde that Venti is Barbatos, so he holds his tongue.
In any case, she might have a point. It has been over a year since he started dating Venti, and in that year, Venti had effectively moved into Dawn Winery. It should be clear to just about anyone how charmed Diluc is by Venti. Adelinde has a front-row seat to Diluc’s display of affection.
“Are you going to ask Venti’s family for their blessings, Master Diluc?” Moco asks. “Well, I’m sure they’d give it to you! You’re Master Diluc Ragnvindr after all.”
Diluc goes quiet. Moco has a point. It’s only proper to introduce himself to the family. And that, he has not truly considered. That, he realizes, wouldn’t be so easy.
It’s not as if Diluc is blind to his reputation. Sure, he’s careful not to let it affect him, but he knows he has money. He’s heard that he’s the most eligible bachelor of Mondstadt. So has it been anyone else, it probably wouldn’t be much of a problem.
But this is Venti. This is Barbatos.
Surely, his family would be that of gods and legends. Creatures who would only see Diluc as a mere mortal man.
A mere mortal man who might not be worthy of a god.
Diluc already feels like he’s pretty impudent for loving Venti. He already felt like he’s reached peak arrogance when he asked Venti to marry him.
Yet Venti accepts it all. Venti loves him back, and that’s the most divine thing of all.
“I’m sure they’d like him,” Venti says with a soft smile. He glances over at Diluc, his green eyes glistening ever so slightly. “What’s there not to like about him?”
Diluc sighs, hoping that myths and legends would think the same.
“I won’t introduce you to all of the seven,” Venti says as they walk through the streets of Liyue Harbor, their unexpected first stop. “I don’t think they care for who I’d marry. But Morax is close enough. And I think he cares enough.”
Diluc knows of the legends of Morax, of course. The Geo Lord is often reputed to be the oldest of the seven. Perhaps one of the most powerful. Until recently, he ruled over Liyue. Then, he supposedly died.
But the fact that they’re here means that Morax is still alive.
Since Morax is older than Venti and is an archon like him, in human terms they might be similar to close cousins, perhaps even brothers. But surely it’s silly to attribute human definitions to gods. All Diluc has to know and accept is that Morax is important enough to Venti that Venti wants to introduce Diluc to him as his fiancée.
Diluc did not particularly dress up for the occasion. Perhaps he should wear something other than his dark coat and usual outfit, but he doesn’t want to come off as pretentious.
“Ah, there he is,” Venti grins.
The man sitting at the porch of a restaurant does not seem like a god at first glance. He’s handsome, yes, but not excessively so. His clothes seem down-to-earth, his posture relaxed as he sips his tea.
“Morax,” Venti greets as they get close.
Now that they’re right in front of the man, Diluc can see his amber eyes, a characteristic of Morax that he has heard of from the legends. Those eyes seem to belly so much behind them, and they are the true indicator that this man might be more than a simple Liyue citizen.
“Don’t call me that,” the man chides in his smooth, deep voice. “I go by Zhongli now.”
“Okay, Zhongli,” Venti says. He slides out a stool, sitting on it without the other god telling him it’s okay to do so. “I’m here to introduce my fiancée to you.”
“Fiancée,” Zhongli murmurs. Finally, he looks up from his tea. First, he looks at Venti. At the ring on Venti’s finger, at the smile on Venti’s face. Then, he looks at Diluc. Those amber orbs seem to penetrate right into Diluc, making Diluc’s palms sweat. Slowly, Zhongli nods. “I see.”
“Is that it?” Venti frowns.
Yes, is that it? Is Zhongli just going to accept it that easily?
“Of course not,” Zhongli says.
The words are cool, cutting. Diluc gulps down, wondering what Zhongli is going to say or do next. But Zhongli simply gazes at him.
Then, Zhongli pushes the teapot towards them.
“You know how it is,” he says. “You two have to pour tea for me.”
That seems to be a Liyue custom. Diluc isn’t all that familiar with it, but he’s heard vaguely about a tea ceremony taking place on the wedding day.
“We’re not getting married yet,” Venti objects. “And you’re not my parent. Also, neither of us is from Liyue. There’s a lot of problems with this logic.”
“I’m still older than you,” Zhongli points out as if this resolves every single complaint Venti might have. “I might as well serve as your elder.”
“Seriously?” Venti huffs.
“Seriously,” Zhongli says flatly. “Stand up and do it properly, Barbatos.”
Venti shakes his head incredulously. Still, he stands up and looks apologetically at Diluc.
“Looks like we have to give this old rock his traditions,” Venti says.
“That’s alright,” Diluc murmurs. “It’s just pouring the tea?”
“And bowing our heads to him, I think,” Venti says. “I’m not too sure, I haven’t done this before.”
Venti starts, bowing his head to Zhongli, then pouring the tea. Then, Diluc mimics Venti’s movement. He feels awkward and stiff, and he’s not entirely sure if he’s doing this right. He keeps glancing at Zhongli, but Zhongli’s expression betrays nothing.
“Okay,” Zhongli sips the tea. “Good enough.”
“You’re so difficult,” Venti chides as he slumps back down on the stool. “I’m already nice enough to come here.”
“I do appreciate that,” Zhongli says.
Those words seem softer than Zhongli’s initial impression. But Diluc doesn’t have the time to appreciate it before Zhongli turns to him.
“Diluc Ragnvindr,” Zhongli says. “I’ve heard of you.”
“You have?” Diluc blinks.
“Yes, my traders are fond of your wine,” a pause, a chuckle. “But I suppose they’re not my traders anymore. Considering I’ve retired from being the archon of Liyue.”
“I,” Diluc starts. “Thank you?”
Maybe he should’ve brought a bottle of wine for Zhongli. He didn’t know if an old god of six thousand years would like wine. In retrospect, he should’ve expected that much. After all, the two-thousand year old god in his life loves his alcohol a little bit too much. Damn it. Now that Diluc is here, he can only think of what he could’ve done instead.
“Well,” Zhongli says slowly. “I simply hope that you wouldn’t make Barbatos regret his decision.”
This is something that Diluc can answer.
“I’ll give him everything I can,” Diluc says. “I’ll give him my lifetime.”
“Then, that is enough,” Zhongli nods. Then, he turns to Venti. “Really, Barbatos? Marriage? You sure know how to be truly,” a casual wave of a hand. “Human.”
“Because I’m not a stubborn old rock like you,” Venti laughs. “Hey, would you go to the wedding?”
“Hm, would you like me there?” Zhongli asks.
“It’s not like you have anything else to do, right?” Venti shrugs. “Besides, you’ll get a free dinner.”
“You can treat me to a free lunch right now,” Zhongli says. Turning to Diluc, he nods. “This place makes good food. Can I trust you to pay, my new in-law?”
“Now, you’re just getting him to pay because you don’t have mora,” Venti complains.
“It’s fine, Venti,” Diluc assures. “I don’t mind.”
“Don’t spoil him!” Venti puffs out his cheeks.
Still, Diluc doesn’t mind paying for the old god. After all, this old god has been Venti’s companion for a long time. This old god might have helped in making sure Venti is here now, in front of Diluc. In love with Diluc and wearing Diluc’s ring.
And that’s worth at least one lunch.
The last time he met Dvalin was when he jumped off his back to chase after Razor. The time before that? Well, Diluc thought he almost died. In any case, he doubts Dvalin has a good impression of him. The dragon probably thinks of him as rash. Or rude. Or both.
Still, he knows that Dvalin is someone he has to meet. Dvalin is one of Venti’s four winds, meaning he’s as close of a family to Venti as anyone can be.
“Ready?” Venti asks.
They’re standing on the top of the tower in the center of Stormterror’s Lair. Everything here is so quiet that the wind sounds deafeningly loud. Perhaps it is appropriate for the anemo archon and one of his four winds, but to Diluc, it all feels so grand. So much so that it feels a little suffocating.
“Well,” Diluc exhales. “As ready as I can be, I suppose.”
Venti begins playing on his lyre. The song seems to match against the wind around them, creating an ethereal melody. It isn’t a particularly complicated song, yet under Venti’s fingers, it is beautiful.
Then, all of a sudden, the wind grows stronger. A gush, almost a storm. Within moments, Dvalin appears before them, looking as majestic as always.
“Barbatos,” he narrows his eyes. “What do you need?”
“Aw, Dvalin,” Venti chuckles. “Do I only call upon you if I need you for something? Do I not call upon you simply to talk?”
“The Ragnvindr is with you,” Dvalin points out.
“And he’s here because he has something to tell you!” Venti says without missing a beat.
Dvalin turns his large head towards Diluc. If it’s hard to read Zhongli’s expression, Dvalin is even worse. He’s not even human, so Diluc can’t read his mood at all.
“Well, what is it?” Dvalin asks, his voice reverberating around them.
“I,” Diluc starts. “I’m marrying Venti. Barbatos.”
“Hm?” Dvalin hums. “Marriage, you say?”
“Yes,” Diluc nods. “I’d like your blessing.”
“Well, I’ve always liked you,” Dvalin says. “So, you have my blessing.”
That’s it? He does? This is too easy.
“You look perplexed, Ragnvindr,” Dvalin says. “You’ve been protecting Mondstadt. So of course I have no problem with you.”
Dvalin is probably the most staunch protector of Mondstadt, Diluc knows. Sure, he went berserk not too long ago. But Dvalin’s fight against Durin, for one, is one of the most celebrated stories of Mondstadt. It’s even one of the earliest stories Diluc remembers being told to him.
“So,” Diluc purses his lips. “You don’t hate me?”
“Why would I hate you?” Dvalin asks. “Unless you plan to stop protecting Mondstadt now that Barbatos agreed to marry you?”
“He’s not that kind of person, Dvalin!” Venti insists.
“I’ll continue to protect Mondstadt,” Diluc says quickly. “Mondstadt is my first love. And being with Venti will not change that.”
Perhaps, even, it will further drive him forward. After all, now he’s not just protecting a city that he loves. He’s also protecting a city that his beloved loves more than anything.
“Then I don’t see a problem,” Dvalin says. “Congratulations on your engagement. I must say I wasn’t expecting it.”
“I told you about Master Diluc before,” Venti points out.
“You have, you have,” Dvalin agrees. “You’ve been fond of him for a very long time.”
“Really?” Diluc asks.
He never thought that Venti would be so fond of him that he told Dvalin about him. But he supposes, Dvalin is family. And unlike Diluc who doesn’t have anyone to talk about Venti to, it’s good that Venti has Dvalin.
They’re different in that way. And Diluc doesn’t resent that. He doesn’t need anyone else but Venti to know that he loves Venti with his whole heart.
“I didn’t want you to hear that from Dvalin,” Venti smiles bashfully. “But yes, I’ve liked you for a while.”
And like, in a way, is different from love.
A different affection, yet Diluc’s all the same.
In contrast to Stormterror’s Lair, Wolvendom is more alive.
Full of the chirping of birds and rustling leaves, it almost feels rustic. Still, Diluc doesn’t know what to expect of this last visit. Andrius is another one of the four winds and the last one that Diluc has to meet.
Compared to Dvalin, Diluc knows little about Andrius. Of course, he knows of the legends, but if Venti is anything to go by, the legends are not entirely accurate.
“It’s okay,” Venti says. “Andrius can be a little stern, but he would like you.”
Would he? Diluc isn’t entirely sure. Zhongli likes him now after he paid for lunch and Dvalin likes him for some unknown reason, but would Andrius?
Then again, he doesn’t have to be liked by Andrius. Just tolerated as someone who would marry Venti.
Keeping his expectations low, Diluc walks behind Venti. Venti is humming cheerfully, so at least one of them isn’t nervous.
They head deep into Wolvendom, eventually reaching what looks like an old arena. What should he expect of Andrius? An old wolf? A divine man?
Instead, the only person in the arena is a small boy.
Is that Andrius?
No.
“Razor?” Diluc calls out, confused.
The long-haired boy turns around to see them. It seems to take him a moment to recognize the people behind him.
Venti, meanwhile, doesn’t give him time to properly respond.
“Razor!” Venti calls out. He uses his anemo powers to glide over to where the boy is, tackling him into a hug.
“Venti…?” Razor says slowly. Then, he looks up. “Diluc…? You’re here.”
“We are, we are!” Venti says cheerfully as Diluc makes his way down to Razor.
Razor is not who Diluc was expecting to see. If this is the representative for Andrius’s side of the family it feels awfully normal. Sure, Razor has a unique background. But he’s human instead of a retired 6000-year old god or a dragon.
“Venti’s ring,” Razor says. “Shiny.”
“Isn’t it pretty?” Venti grins.
“A Ragnvindr ring.”
Another voice. A deeper voice. Definitely not Razor’s.
Diluc’s breath hitches as he sees a large wolf approaching them. He walks leisurely. It’s as if he has all the time in the world. He studies Venti and Diluc before taking his place before them. He’s just as majestic as Dvalin, with a sort of composure that can only come from thousands of years.
Now that’s more the family that Diluc was expecting.
“Barbatos,” Andrius greets. “Why are you here?”
“Can’t you see from the ring?” Venti grins, still holding on to an increasingly baffled Razor. “I’m getting married.”
“Oh,” Andrius seems unperturbed. Then again, if he can’t read a dragon’s expression, Diluc definitely cannot read a ghost wolf’s expression. “What do you see in him?”
“Rude!” Venti huffs, finally letting poor Razor go. “Well, he’s serious but—“
“I’m talking to the Ragnvindr descendant,” Andrius cuts him.
“Me?” Diluc furrows his eyebrows.
Surely it’s more logical to ask an archon why he would want to marry a mortal?
“Barbatos is unreliable,” Andrius says. “And a drunk.”
“Hey!” Venti exclaims. “Extra rude!”
“But he’s kind,” Diluc says. “He loves his people, he loves his city. He sings bright and upbeat songs for Mondstadt, making it a more beautiful place,” he turns to Venti, seeing Venti’s bright smile. Then, quietly, he continues: “he gives light to my life.”
“Master Diluc,” Venti can’t help the wide smile on his face.
Andrius is quiet for a moment. Then, he shakes his head.
“You’re too good for him,” Andrius says. “But I can see you love him. Very well. You may have my blessing.”
“Congratulations…?” Razor says doubtfully.
“Yes, that’s correct, Razor,” Andrius praises. Then, he turns back to Venti. “In any case, you can’t expect me to attend the wedding. I can’t leave Wolvendom, after all.”
“I know,” Venti grins. “That’s why I have one more thing to ask you.”
“Oh?” Andrius asks.
“How about you send Razor to the wedding?” Venti asks. “He’ll be your representative.”
Diluc himself doesn’t mind Razor coming, of course. He doesn’t mind Andrius coming either, even if he doesn’t quite know how to accommodate an oversized ghost wolf, but he’d figure it out if that’s what Andrius and Venti want.
“Well,” Andrius says. “I have no qualms against that. Razor, will you go?”
“Is it… okay?” Razor looks conflicted. “Wedding… I’ve never been.”
“Of course it’s okay!” Venti says cheerfully. “You’re like my nephew, after all.”
“Nephew,” Razor echoes. Then, he smiles. “Then… okay.”
Venti has a family that Diluc is only starting to get to know now. Sure, they are not the most conventional. But Venti isn’t conventional.
And any family is good.
After all, that’s not something Diluc has, now.
He’s not sure if he could expect a lively home from an old rock god, a dragon, a ghost wolf, and a wolf boy. But if they can slowly accept him, perhaps he too can see this collection of misfits as family.
“Ah, I’m so tired!” Venti stretches his arms as they head through the gates of Mondstadt. “How about we go to Angel’s Share?”
“Are you tired, or do you want a drink?” Diluc raises an eyebrow.
“Ehe,” Venti giggles. “How about both?”
Diluc sighs, but he supposes it’s not a bad idea. A drink to celebrate their engagement. Perhaps treating Charles to one at the end of the night, considering how the bartender watched them flirt for weeks before getting together.
“Okay,” Diluc agrees. “Come on.”
Mondstadt is quiet. But now that he’s back in this city that he loves, Diluc finally feels at ease. The family visits are done, and while he appreciates the introduction, it has been a tense day for him.
The familiar confines of Angel’s Share would be a good contrast to that.
The tavern is lively as they head inside. A bard is playing a song, the drunks are cheering for the bard. Charles is behind the counter, preparing some drinks.
And then.
“Kaeya?” Diluc raises an eyebrow.
It isn’t odd for Kaeya to be at Angel’s Share. But right now, the cavalry captain isn’t joining the rank of drunks. He sits alone at the counter, nursing a single pint.
“Kaeya!” Venti calls out brightly.
“There you are,” Kaeya grins as he turns back to see them. “You sure made me wait.”
“Wait?” Diluc asks.
“I sent a message to Kaeya before we left for Liyue,” Venti explains. “I figured, since you’ve met my family, it’s my turn to meet with yours.”
Kaeya laughs, but surely, he’s noticed the ring on Venti’s finger.
“Congratulations on your engagement,” Kaeya says. “But I’m not sure Diluc sees me that way.”
“Nonsense,” Venti shakes his head. “You’re important to him.”
Diluc goes quiet. Sure, he and Kaeya might not have been on the best of terms these last few years. But it’s true he has grown up with Kaeya. It’s true that Kaeya is a part of his life.
He doesn’t know if he could define it as family, still.
But he wishes he could.
“Well,” Diluc murmurs. “I wouldn’t mind if you come to the wedding.”
“Maybe be the best man!” Venti exclaims.
“Okay, let’s not go that far yet,” Diluc says.
“I’m happy for both of you,” Kaeya smiles. “But, really, what do you see in him?”
This question again?
“He’s bright and—“
“I’m talking to the bard, ‘Luc,” Kaeya says cheekily.
Venti laughs.
“Let me tell you all about him,” Venti says. “And all about us.”
Perhaps, none of this family would fit perfectly in a portrait.
But listening to Venti talk, looking at Kaeya’s amused smile, Diluc knows that at the very least, this is his.