Work Text:
There are numerous reasons why Diluc Ragnvindr does not drink. Among them, the Archons awful migraine he has upon waking up; Kaeya would call it a hangover, but Diluc will settle for calling it hell. The sun burns like a brand when he first tries to open his eyes, and he squeezes them shut and covers his face with one hand and an ill-concealed curse.
"Ehe~ Well well Master Diluc~ It seems like you had fun last night."
With a grunt, Diluc moves to sit up, but a...strangely familiar warmth nestles against his side, and a soft sigh dances over his skin. He tenses, eyes snapping open despite their sensitivity to light. In a light-blind daze, Diluc can see the bard's hazy outline, a blithe smile on Venti's face as he puts one finger to his lips and nods to Diluc's left.
"Careful now," he whispers. "You might wake her up."
A scent like valberries and windwheel asters and the cardamom-vanilla blend that Adelinde simmers in pots over the winter stirs on the wind. It's comforting and warm and it sends his heart rate skyrocketing. Diluc dares a glance to his left, the tousled head of blonde hair and the delicate hand gripping his chest in sleep. It could have been Jean–he'd have felt much better if it was. But no, that's the Traveler nestled against him, Mondstadt's Savior and Honorary Knight, Conqueror of Dvalin and friend of Archons, and
"Lumine."
Her name leaves his lips before he even realizes he's spoken. He tenses again, waiting for her to wake, but she does not. Venti chuckles.
"Not to worry, Master Diluc," he says. "I was only teasing before; she'll sleep for a while yet. I thought you might need time to process what happened, so I sang a little lullaby for her while I waited for you to wake."
"What are you prattling on about, Bard?" Diluc puts extra measure into keeping his voice even and low. He's too busy studying Lumine to do much else, nevermind to pay Venti any attention.
Curled against him, she looks at peace for one of the first times he's ever seen her. She's wrapped in his coat, the lines of her shoulders gentle beneath its fabric, no sign of the weary weight she always seems to carry. A flush colors her cheeks beautifully, dried flowers from a discarded flower crown still tangled in her hair. One slender leg stretches out from her makeshift blanket, skin pale as porcelain and wrapped in scars like ribbons. Scars being the only thing it's wrapped in. An errant memory of how that leg felt wrapped around his waist makes his mouth run dry before it curls away like smoke, lost in the pain of his headache.
"Hue~ Now you see."
A shadow falls over the two of them, granting Diluc enough reprieve from the light to make out the wrinkled blanket beneath them, his own clothes discarded nearby, and...Lumine's dress. Heat rises up his throat, and for the first time since obtaining his Vision, Diluc Ragnvindr feels too warm.
"C'mon then!"
His pants hit his chest with a slap of fabric and skin. Quick reflexes keep it from hitting Lumine, but when Diluc throws a sharp glare at the bard, Venti is standing with his hand outstretched and two glorious feathered wings behind him. In a skintight suit of a design not unlike Lumine's clothing, Diluc could have mistaken Venti for a young woman, and he sees how the Church of Favonius could consider someone like Venti divine...if only for a moment. More striking than his appearance as Barbatos, however, is the look Venti is giving him, turquoise gaze fathomless and still.
"We have something important to talk about."
☆:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::☆
"So what do you remember?"
Standing atop the manor, Diluc closes his eyes and breathes in the remnants of woodsmoke and wine on the breeze. It's easier to think without her skin on his, but his brow furrows in thought.
"Ludi Harpastum," he finally says, the words tasting of apple cider and honey. "Dawn Winery played host to some of the festivities this year since the harvest aligned with the festival. Bonfires, dancing...nothing too special."
"Nothing~?"
His thoughts stray back to the girl he left curled in his coat, tucked among the rows of harvested vines. The soles of her feet had been stained amaranthine with crushed grapes, the color flecked up her calves as if she'd jumped rather than just stomped. He could hear the bell tone of her laughter, felt the weight of her waist in his arm as he caught her so she did not fall.
"The Traveler stopped by on a commission and stayed to help." His head throbs and he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I was out to make a public appearance. The noise and the drinking typically put me off," Diluc mutters, glaring through slitted eyes at Venti as the winged Archon sits with his chin in his hand and that same infuriating smile. "Somehow I got roped into it anyway."
"She's hard to say no to," Venti says. "I don't blame you. Anything else you remember?"
The warmth of the flames, of her hand in his. The way she moved, her hips swaying, dress flaring out and then in, a night blooming flower as she spun away and came back to him. The curve of her lips and how she tasted like sunshine and candied sunsettias.
"Are you looking for an admission of guilt?" Diluc can't keep the irritation from his voice this time. "You aren't exactly a paragon of moral responsibilities, Barbatos ," he snaps.
Venti chuckles and tosses his shoulders in a careless shrug.
"Nothing of the sort! To the contrary, I was looking to see if you even knew what really happened, and it seems you don't."
Silhouettes dancing by the fire, the beat of a drum and her infectious laugh, holding her hand as they leapt over the fire. His palm itches, longing for the touch of her again.
"You know," Venti hums, "they call Windblume the festival of romance, but it used to be Ludi Harpastum that was for lovers." He closes one eye as Diluc turns to look at him. "The Lawrence Clan definitely soured that bit of history, so I get why it's not common knowledge anymore," he says, and gestures to Diluc's hand. "A Champion and a Maiden, ever the fated pair." The gesture turns to a flourish, fingers plucking at his lyre.
" The damsel in distress was saved by the white knight in shining armor.
And they exchanged flowers as blessings to one another ."
Flower crowns, dried roses and daisies and windwheel asters decorating her hair. She'd pulled on his tie to make him bow down, but Diluc would have gone down to his knees for her.
He doesn't realize he's moved his hand until his fingers catch on something fragile and soft in his hair. He pulls it out and brings it up to the light–one of the flowers that Lumine wears in her hair. A shimmer on his palm draws his attention, and Diluc turns his hand over to find a replica mark of her constellation inlaid between the lines of his palm. It is warm to the touch in the way her skin was, separate and yet part of him all the same.
" A seed that lights up the night ," Venti is saying.
"No matter the distance apart,
guided by the stone's glimmer,
the fated will meet under the stars.
Its glimmers can entwine fates
and connect dreams,
just as how its glimmer links stars
into the shapes of a heart's desires ."
Oh. Oh .
Diluc takes in a shallow breath and shuts his eyes again.
"Oh, fuck..."