Work Text:
The cool breeze that blows through the canyon is a welcome respite after walking under the sun, Diluc thinks. He’s following the path to the Northwest of the Dawn Winery, claymore strapped to his back and long red hair gathered into a high ponytail.
After spending most of the previous day studying a map of Mondstadt and mulling over the information provided by the Knights about dragon sightings near the Brightcrown Mountains, Diluc had outlined a plan of action. To access the area with the ruins that Kaeya had talked about he would need to go through a narrow canyon on the southern side, instead of through the Brightcrown Mountains side.
And so, that is precisely what he does.
Birds chirp overhead as the clouds drift by. Diluc looks all around him, trying to stay alert in case something decides to ambush him. The Abyss Order is going to great lengths to keep people from getting closer to that area, and he’s going to find out why.
(He, however, doesn’t notice a certain someone tailing him. After all, who pays close attention to the wind?)
It doesn’t take long before he sees the first enemy: a mitachurl strategically posted behind a crumbling pillar that tries to charge at him with its wooden shield.
Diluc dodges and sets the shield on fire with his vision. After that, it’s not too difficult to get a couple of hits in with his claymore, and the mitachurl is done for. He silently watches the creature dissolve in a flurry of particles before resuming his walk.
The path narrows, turning and twisting, and more ruins appear. There are several more hilichurls ahead and Diluc makes quick work of them, stopping to rest after that. He drinks water and checks the map and his notes, and, for a second, forgets to be aware of his surroundings.
Suddenly, vines burst out of the ground everywhere, wrapping around his arms and digging into his skin painfully through his clothes. Diluc puts out a fight, cursing when he sees the dendro samachurl chanting in the Abyss language, several hilichurls and slimes appearing behind it and looking ready to charge at him.
He tries to get a hold of the vines, anything to make them burst into flames upon contact with the skin of his hand, but the samachurl is more clever than he thought and twists his arms just so.
“What are you hiding?” Diluc tries to question the Abyss creatures through gritted teeth. The vines tighten a bit more.
And then, a gust of wind blows all of them away from Diluc. He watches mesmerized as the samachurl, hilichurls and slimes get pulled into a deadly air current, sucked into one point in space. They seem unable to resist it, shrieking and yelling incoherently, and when he averts his eyes, Diluc sees the culprit.
Venti, wielding a bow and arrow, looking fiercely at the scene in front of him. His braids flutter in the wind, the ends glowing a bright teal, and his eyes seem to glow too. He doesn’t look anything like the cheerful bard Diluc knows.
They lock eyes and a shudder runs down his spine. The Abyss creatures fall to the ground between them and dissolve in a burst of particles as per usual.
“Are you okay?” The bard asks, stepping closer to Diluc, who is in the process of burning down the inert vines and smothering the flames before they can catch into his own clothes.
“Just a couple of scratches,” he replies, glancing at the bloodied thin lines that now mark his forearms under the shirtsleeves.
“Let me see,” Venti is now standing next to him and holding out an expectant hand.
Diluc gives in and lets the bard examine the scrapes. He’s taken by surprise when Venti softly takes his forearm between his hands and closes his eyes, a glow of anemo energy enveloping them.
Soon enough, both of his arms are healed, and Venti withdraws his hands. Diluc misses their warmth and softness.
“So,” the bard looks up at him and grins, like it is a daily occurrence, all previous seriousness wiped from his face, “where are you going?”
Technically, Diluc is intruding on the Knights’ investigation that may or may not be confidential, but he has also seen Venti’s dexterity with the bow, and they need as many experienced hands as they can get, so he decides to just tell him.
“I’m trying to get to the ruins up north, word says a dragon has been sighted around there for the first time in five centuries,” he explains.
Strangely enough, Venti doesn’t seem surprised by this information, and it makes Diluc feel like he has passed some sort of bizarre test.
“Let’s go and see the dragon, then!” He says, and resumes walking in the direction Diluc had been going towards.
Fighting with Venti is easy. With the aid of his anemo powers, enemies fall left and right, and Diluc isn’t even tired by the time they reach what looks like the end of the canyon and the beginning of a cluster of old ruins.
“What is this place?” He mutters, more to himself than to his companion, peering at the intricate markings on the entrance archway.
“Old Mondstadt,” Venti’s voice comes from behind him, surprisingly soft.
Diluc turns to look at him in surprise.
“How do you know?”
Venti clears his throat and smiles, and for a fleeting second a myriad of emotions flit through his teal eyes.
“Many a song have been written about this place of old,” he recites melodically. “A good bard listens to the tales and ballads of a time before our own.”
That makes sense. Diluc nods, earning a smile from the bard, and decides to continue marching on.
The ruins do indeed resemble an old city, he realizes, a very old, very worn down by time city. They walk around them carefully, avoiding the clusters of Abyss monsters as much as they can as they try to make their presence go undetected. Venti seems to know where to go, leading them to the very center of the ruins, but they both stop dead on their tracks at the suddenly aggressive winds blocking their way.
“It’s a wind barrier,” the bard says, putting up a hand against it. He flinches and draws it back. “I wonder how they managed to do it…”
Before any of them can answer, however, a loud screech fills the air, and the ground starts to tremble. Diluc draws his claymore out, prepared to fight whatever it is, while Venti just stares upwards, an odd look in his eyes.
The screech continues loudly, and suddenly, with a gust of wind, a dark, looming shape appears over the two of them.
It’s the dragon.
Diluc readies his stance for whatever the dragon might throw at them, but Venti doesn’t seem to be as keen on fighting, because he calls out a name to the wind.
“Dvalin! Dvalin, it’s okay, I’m here!” He shouts, all attempts to be stealthy summarily abandoned.
The dragon ignores them, instead batting its wings so that new, stronger wind currents appear. Diluc eyes them, wary of getting swept away.
“Dvalin!” Venti tries again.
A groaning sound from above alerts Diluc, and he looks up just in time to see the rocks on the archway above them begin to crumble.
“We have to get out of here!” He shouts over the wind. Venti doesn’t pay any attention to him, but Diluc will be damned if he lets that bard just stay there and get crushed by the ruins, or worse, by a maddened dragon. “Venti!”
The bard is still looking up, so Diluc just grabs his arm and pulls them away, just in time as the old rocks start falling down. Not far from where they stand, two miniature tornadoes begin, encroaching their space. The winds are so fast and aggressive they hurt his cheeks when they whip against his face.
“Dvalin!” Venti yells one last time. The dragon flies away, in the direction of Brightcrown Mountains.
When the bard turns to look at Diluc, it is with sorrow in his eyes. Nonetheless, he seems to take stock of the situation quickly and nods before taking off towards the nearest way out, Diluc in tow.
They miraculously get out of the ruins without getting crushed to death by a falling stone, and then out of the canyon without fighting too many Abyss monsters. When they get to the beach, Diluc needs to stop to regain his breathing, a thousand questions flitting through his head.
Eventually, he settles on one.
“Who is Dvalin?” He asks Venti, who keeps throwing backwards glances towards the place they just ran away from.
Venti sighs, not meeting his eyes.
“Another story of old,” he merely says, sorrow in his voice. Then, he looks up, and teal eyes meet crimson irises with such seriousness it sends a jolt down Diluc’s spine. “Please forget everything we saw today and do not try to go back. Instead, help lost travelers or adventure seekers away from this place. It isn’t safe for anyone.”
Taken aback by the bard’s uncharacteristic seriousness, he can only nod. This seems to be the right thing to do, however, because soon the usual grin is on Venti’s face and there is no trace of his earlier feelings. This change is jarring, and Diluc takes note of it.
“Great! Now, let’s go back to Dawn Winery, shall we? Perhaps we could have a bottle of your finest Dandelion Wine, as a reward for getting out unscathed?”
Diluc sighs, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as well.
“Stop trying to mooch off me, bard,” he retorts, but leads the way nonetheless.
The Weinlesefest starts a week later, and Diluc’s days become fully occupied with getting the tavern ready for the festivities. There is also a tent on the Festival Venue outside Springvale, so most of his time is spent running between one place and another, making sure the fresh wine is properly brewed and then sealed, that there is enough stock to last until Windcoming Day and that everything is working properly.
Along the way, he also helps a few people, as a payment of sorts to himself for temporarily putting his nightly patrols on hold. He remembers Venti’s words about resting and isn’t too keen on failing to fulfill both duties for being too tired to do either. Regardless, he makes sure his informants keep him updated in case anything happens.
Busy as he is with all this work, Diluc doesn’t get many chances to mull over what happened in the Old Mondstadt ruins, but sometimes, when he’s about to sleep, he thinks back to it, remembering the way the wind whipped at his hair at clothes, the torn look on Venti’s eyes and the roaring of the dragon above their heads.
He has made sure people know not to approach that place for safety reasons, but it still feels like it’s nearly not enough.
“I will place some of our best knights to patrol the area,” Kaeya had promised him, during a particularly quiet night at the Angel’s Share. “Just to make sure no one wanders off and gets crushed by a rock… or a dragon.”
Things were mostly back to normal between the two of them, as normal as they could be when they couldn’t stop bickering when talking for more than five seconds, and Diluc found a bit of solace in that, even if the mess of conflicting feelings sometimes threatened to swallow him whole.
“Make sure none of them go off investigating either,” he had replied, and the underlying message was there. Don’t try and investigate on your own.
Kaeya had just smirked and taken a sip of his wine.
The people of Mondstadt are happy to organize all manners of activities, from dance and song competitions to drinking contests, Diluc watches them all from his spot in the Dawn Winery tent, keeping his hands full with serving drinks. He takes note of everyone almost subconsciously, watching them enjoy the festivities.
Jean and Lisa are near the Knights of Favonius Charity Sale tent, talking quietly between them. The Acting Grandmaster looks more relaxed than usual, and Diluc is glad for that. He can always count on Lisa to pull her away from her duties for a bit when they get too much.
On the other side of the tent, Eula and Amber seem to be coordinating patrol duties with a few other knights, the latter’s enthusiastic voice and hand movements giving most of it away. Not too far from there are the Chief Alchemist and the youngest knight, Klee, watching a song contest.
And smack dab in the middle of the song contest, of course, is Venti, strumming his lyre and singing happily to the raucous crowd that has formed around him.
“A bottle of your finest Dandelion Wine, Master Diluc!” The bard says after the contest is over, bounding happily towards his tent.
“Are you planning on paying for that?” Diluc asks, already knowing the answer.
“It’s the prize for winning,” Venti replies proudly, “Put it in the Adventurer’s Guild tab.”
“If you say so…” Diluc turns around and rummages in search of the bottle.
When he places the bottle on the makeshift counter, Venti is half-leaning on it, arms crossed and head placed over them as he looks up at Diluc with a small smile.
“Are you enjoying the festivities?”
Diluc crosses his arms as well, glancing at the crowd around them that is now focused on a dance competition, also organized by the Adventurer’s Guild.
“It’s good to see the people of Mondstadt enjoying themselves,” he settles on saying. Venti’s smile turns sly.
“I was not asking about them, I was asking about you ,” the bard says. “But I suppose that is enough of an answer for me.”
Venti takes a long swig of wine and Diluc busies himself serving another customer. When he turns back to the bard, half the bottle is already downed. Local music is playing loudly as more people join the dancing circle, laughter filling the air.
“Dance with me?” Venti suddenly asks. His cheeks are slightly rosy, and he smiles with abandon. Despite the beautiful sight, Diluc shakes his head.
“I have to tend to the bar,” he says. It’s a cop-out, he could get anyone to cover him, but the truth is, Diluc hasn’t danced in almost a decade, and he isn’t about to do it with half of Mondstadt watching.
“Oh, come on, you’re no fun!” Venti protests playfully, downing another quarter of the bottle. “The sun shines bright; the music is loud, and the wine is good! Isn’t this enough to make you want to sing and dance?”
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as Diluc watches the bard exaggerated gestures. He isn’t swayed by them, but it does spark a strange longing feeling in his guarded heart.
Sensing his defeat, Venti just shrugs, finishes off the bottle and jumps off the stool he’s perched in, bounding towards the cluster of people dancing. They seem to have forgotten about the competition and are now simply dancing to their heart’s content, probably due to the effects of the wine.
Diluc tries not to stare too openly, but it’s impossible to avert his eyes once Venti starts moving freely along the music, braids and cape swaying in the wind. Despite the amount of wine he has consumed in such a short span of time, his feet are steady and his movements are graceful. He looks completely at ease, dancing among a mixture of citizens, adventurers and off-duty knights.
Again, that strange emotion surges in his heart. What exactly is he longing for? Diluc has never been the dancing type, but now he wants nothing more than to join the bard and feel his laughter in the air between them.
For an instant, all his worries about the dragon and the Abyss Order are gone, as he just stares, transfixed, at the way Venti dances and moves as if he was a part of the wind himself.
The moment is over as soon as it started; the music ends and a winner is declared, some adventurer whose name Diluc doesn’t recognize. Venti shoots him a wink and a smile, and he busies himself with putting away the empty bottles and glasses.
Later that night, Diluc is walking back to the Dawn Winery when a breeze tickles the hairs at his nape. He turns, dreading a fight after the long day’s work, and tries very hard not to smile at the sight of a familiar bard walking up to him.
It’s a warm night, so Venti seems to have disregarded his usual cape. This is the most undressed Diluc has ever seen him and, for some reason, he suddenly feels the need to take off his own jacket and stand there in his shirtsleeves as well.
“Good night, Master Diluc,” the bard says softly, falling into step with him. Diluc nods.
They walk in pleasant silence for a little while, only interrupted by the sound of Venti humming softly, which is more than welcome by Diluc. After spending his day working in the Weinlesefest, he relishes the peaceful moment.
Venti walks with him all the way to the edge of Dawn Winery, where he steals an apple from a random cart with a cheeky grin. Diluc frowns with no real weight behind it.
“I’ve heard the Knights are patrolling the ruins area now,” Venti suddenly says, after swallowing a bite of the apple. “No one should get hurt that way.”
Diluc crosses his arms and stares off into the distance.
“I have to foil the Abyss Order’s plans, whatever they are,” he says, missing the way Venti’s eyes harden. “And if I need to go back there to do so, I will.”
“I can’t forbid you from going,” Venti replies in a strange voice, “but I would appreciate it if you took care.”
Diluc glances at him, and his frown softens.
“The safety of Mondstadt always comes first,” he simply says.
They stand quietly for a bit as the bard finishes off his stolen apple and Diluc tries to put some order to the mess of thoughts in his head. He has many questions, but he isn’t sure how to best approach them, and eventually, he just settles for watching Venti in silence.
“Well, I must get going now,” the bard eventually says, back to his usual self, “thank you for the apple, Master Diluc, and have a good night.”
“You too.”
Diluc watches him leave with graceful steps before resuming his own walk towards the manor. He has much to think about, but the weariness weighing down on his bones demands he sleeps a bit first.