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a full night’s rest was not a luxury that diluc was allowed often. between occasional work at the tavern, working to maintain contact with his informants, and nights spent patrolling the city as the “darknight hero” (a name that still made him want to cringe), he would be lucky to get but a few hours of sleep before the day began anew.
which is why, when he found the sun to be much higher than it usually was when he awoke, he felt alarmed. getting dressed hastily—in record speed, even—he called for adelinde quite loudly upon exiting his room, and when he did not receive an immediate reply, his worries only grew.
“adelinde?” he called again as he descended the manor’s stairs. “adelinde— where are you?!”
finally, a familiar, warm voice responded: “apologies, master diluc! i am still in the kitchen.”
diluc breathed a sigh of relief. “good, you’re alright. why didn’t you wake me up this morning when i didn’t get up on my own?”
at this, the head maid exited the kitchen holding a plate of ‘once upon a time in mondstadt’ in one hand and a sizeable cup of grape juice in the other—fresh, too, judging by its color. he smiled at the sight, albeit uncertainly.
“we’ve arranged for you to take the day off—elzer is handling all business related manners, more so than usual, and the rest of the staff have been assigned to any other miscellaneous tasks. all you have to do is relax,” adelinde said with a smile, a sweet lilt to her voice that warmed diluc’s heart as well as raised some suspicion.
“and why, if i may ask, have you arranged this time off for me?” he inquired as he took his seat next to the head of the table.
(he made a point never to sit at the head. he couldn’t. not after—)
adelinde set the food down in front of him with a fond huff. “why, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten! it’s your birthday week. i was going to surprise you with the information later, but i suppose now is as good a time as any—we’ve actually managed to get you the whole week off.”
diluc, in the middle of lifting the cup of juice to his mouth, promptly set it down (with an unspoken relief that he had not yet drank any, as he most certainly would have spit it out at her words) and tried not to let his face show as much shock as he felt. “wh—how in teyvat did you make that happen? adelinde, i haven’t had a full week off in—”
“—ever, i’m aware,” she said with a chuckle. she watched fondly as the young man’s face, and his whole demeanor along with it, seemed to soften.
“addie,” he said quietly, “why did— you didn’t have to—”
adelinde placed a gentle hand on top of his now slightly shaking one, and took the seat next to him. “not only do you deserve the time off, you need it. i have been tending to this house and this family for long enough to know that i didn’t have to, but i wanted to! we all did, my dear.” and there was that warmth again, making itself known in every quirk of her voice, every crevice of her face as she smiled so sincerely that it caused her eyes to crinkle and those lines of joy around her mouth to make an appearance of their own. “take this week to get some well-earned rest and to do the things you love! perhaps you can finally spend enough time in the city for the cat’s tail cats to warm up to you,” she added with a laugh. “also, please eat. your food is going to get cold and that dish you enjoy so much is no easy feat to make!”
diluc could only respond with a stunned chuckle before taking a knife and fork to his—lunch, he supposed he should call it.
as he reached the end of the meal—which he thanked adelinde for in proper accordance, of course—he looked up to see moco approaching the table with that timid nature that she always had when unaccompanied by hillie. “master diluc,” she said meekly, “there is a visitor for you.”
before he could ask who it was, said visitor chose to make himself very unapologetically known, and diluc simultaneously felt his face heat and his blood freeze—an ironic combination of sensations, he noted, as he stared coldly at the man before him.
“master diluc,” kaeya repeated the same title that moco had said not a minute ago, but in that apparently perpetually condescending tone of his, even his own name managed to sound like an insult. the aforementioned maid managed to slink away quietly, faintly whispering her goodbye.
“what are you doing here,” diluc said more than asked, suddenly tight lipped. he felt adelinde’s gaze flit between the two, his own dropping to the empty plate in front of him, before she stood up quickly and walked over to take one of kaeya’s hands into her own.
“master kaeya!” she exclaimed happily. “what a pleasant surprise to see you after so long! i must echo master diluc’s inquiry—what brings you here today?”
turning his gaze from the redhead to the head maid, kaeya’s gaze grew gentler; kinder, and he gave adelinde’s hand a slight squeeze. “nothing that will keep me here for long. i just wanted to drop something off for the young master, in light of his birthday.”
at this response, diluc lifted his eyes to look at the cavalry captain once more. “a bit early for that.”
“master diluc,” adelinde scolded him lightly—he knew the stern but tender tone quite well from his childhood.
“oh, believe me, i know that,” kaeya conceded with a chuckle. “however, jean’s got me looking at a stack of paperwork so large i’m not sure i can find any way around it, so i wanted to give this to you while i knew i’d have the time.”
airily, he approached the dining table and set down two items: a small gift-wrapped box and a neatly folded up paper, surprisingly not closed with the knights’ telltale red wax seal, but a shimmering orange wax reminiscent of the vibrant shade of a windwheel aster. the seal itself was a picture of a cat smiling dopily, and diluc found himself having to bite back a smile of his own at its ridiculousness.
“and these are… from you?” he asked with a brow raised. kaeya scoffed lightly, a hand to his chest in a dramatic gesture feigning offense.
“honestly, diluc, you wound me,” replied the younger man lightheartedly. then, more sincere, “yes, those are both from me. just think of it as a courtesy, alright? despite… current circumstances, i still think it would be quite rude of me to let your birthday pass without giving you a gift.”
“ah,” diluc said, a little dumbly. it was at this moment he realized the pointed silence from a certain housemaid. “well… thank you, kaeya.”
the smile kaeya gave him closely resembled his signature smirk, but diluc could not refute the fact—though he’d never admit it aloud—that he knew the other well enough to know there was something different here; a kind of genuineness unbecoming of that signature expression. “of course. now, if you’ll—”
“don’t tell me you’re leaving already?” adelinde finally cut in, her sorrow evident. “at least stay for a cup of tea, or— or whatever you’d like, master kaeya.”
“you’re very kind, adelinde,” said kaeya, smile softening even further. “you always have been. but i’m afraid duty calls a little too loudly this time.” he leaned down and placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “perhaps during my next visit i’ll be able to stay.”
she sighed in resignation, clearly having melted under the sweetness of his gesture—every bit as effective as when he was a child—and took his face in her hands. “promise me?”
kaeya laughed, then; the kind of laugh that came from a place deep within and caused his singular visible eye to close in mirth. “you know i can’t make any promises in my line of work, but for you, i’ll try.”
diluc observed the exchange silently, suddenly feeling like a guest in his own home. a dull ache began to sprout somewhere in his chest, not entirely unlike the soreness that used to wrack his whole body—down to the bone, and somehow deeper—after an all-night patrol around mondstadt’s perimeter when he began his duty as the… ugh, he doesn’t even want to think it.
“well, then,” kaeya said through a wistful-sounding sigh, “i’ll be off. adelinde,” he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed them gently against it, and she smiled, honey-rich, “master diluc,” he met the redhead with a nod and a little grin slightly tighter than the one he’d given adelinde, which diluc returned with a nod of his own.
“kaeya,” said diluc before the knight could fully turn to make his exit. said knight looked over his shoulder at him, lips parted in what was likely surprise at the fact that diluc was choosing to initiate conversation. diluc huffed at the expression and continued, with a slight air of reservation, “do notify us before your visit next, so our dear adelinde can have a chance to prepare you a meal in advance.”
the knight’s face shifted into a smile of amusement and subtle surprise, and out of the corner of his eye, diluc could see adelinde begin to tear up.
“sure thing,” was the last thing that kaeya said before he was gone again, and it was just diluc and adelinde again.
-
when the day finally came, diluc made sure not to sleep in—patrol went rather smoothly the night before, so he was able to return to the manor relatively early (but not quite). still, he slipped out of bed silently before the sun had even had a chance to touch the sky, and allowed himself the luxury of getting ready in a leisurely manner for the long, long day ahead of him. as he finished tying his hair back, his gaze shifted to the still-unopened items that kaeya had given him a few days prior—gifts, he supposed he should call them.
he decided to grab them before leaving, a journey also made in silence out of consideration for the staff that had chosen to stay in their quarters overnight, and as he ventured through the winery’s landscape, grapevines and wooden carts still illuminated by a touch of the moon’s silvery beams, he appreciated quietly the tranquil beauty of the scene. he caught a glimpse of some particularly ripe grapes among the fields, and thought about harvesting them in the morning—that is, later in the morning—if his body provided the energy for it.
after an indefinite time spent walking through some of mondstadt’s greenery and taking in nature in all her glory, diluc finally stumbled upon an all too familiar area in the path leading to and from the winery. he inhaled deeply and approached one particular spot, where a relatively subtle but permanent marker had been carved out: a small x , burned deep into the ground with a blazing claymore—one of his vision’s final uses before he had given it up, aside from when he… well—and sure to never fade. this place was where he had lost his father and his brother, practically in one fell swoop. it had been long enough by this point that he could linger here; that he wouldn’t turn and storm off at the immediate barrage of images crowding his mind as he recalled that terrible night.
letting go of the breath he’d taken, diluc sat down by the x and once again examined kaeya’s gifts, electing to ignore the slight tremor in his hands as he gripped them. he looked at the marker in the ground, then back at the two items, silently contemplating which he should open first.
eventually, he decided on the box; the letter may have been more personal, and therefore more impactful to open last—but knowing that ever-elusive knight, anything was possible. huffing, diluc shook his head and removed the wrapping around the gift as carefully as he could, telling himself that perhaps adelinde or elzer could make use of the material (and really, that was the only reason).
inside lay an expertly woven crown of lamp grass as well as what looked like a ring forged from white iron, with a carved out bit of a crystal core gleaming in the middle. diluc smiled faintly, then, at memories of catching crystalflies with kaeya when they were boys. he was always fascinated by the creatures, and wanted to keep their cores for himself, but kaeya—well, adelinde had once called him a gentle child, and he supposed she was right. kaeya always treated the crystalflies in accordance with their delicate nature, and insisted on letting them go after the initial capture, untangling them from whatever net or trap they (mostly diluc) had worked to design. in his reflection, diluc found himself briefly wondering how kaeya would treat the flies now—would he still be as careful in his handling of them?
shaking his head as if to physically clear away the thoughts, he redirected his attention to the box’s contents, seeing that there was also a note, which he opened to too-familiar cursive writing that he remembered making fun of, some years ago. the note read:
dear master diluc,
i hope you will appreciate these gifts in spite of their modest nature—i know you to be someone who never really cares about material value when it comes to such matters, so i worked on that assumption. the lamp grass crown was made by me, with a bit of jean’s help. she used to make them for barbara all the time! i’m sure you remember. as for the ring… that was much more of a team effort. the biggest thanks go to wagner for putting it all together, and to klee, who obtained the crystal core at its center. i helped her catch the fly, but… you know i’ve always shied away from such things.
well, that answered his earlier question, diluc supposed.
in any case, a lot of precision and care went into both of these items, so i hope you will take that into account when you contemplate on whether or not you should throw them out (haha).
all the best,
kaeya
in scribbled, messy, and somehow energetic handwriting: p.s. hi mr weird adult! this is klee! hope you like your birth day presents ☺
in neater but rushed writing: p.p.s. hello, diluc. this is jean. happy birthday! i hope this next year treats you well, and i hope you like your gifts—these two put a lot of effort into them.
the pyro user suddenly found himself blinking away a wetness in his eyes, rubbing at them like a child in an effort to stave off the tears. archons above, he marveled, he still had a letter to read.
one deep breath later, diluc was carefully removing the seal and unfolding the paper to reveal more flowy cursive.
to: d diluc,
happy birthday! i hope you won’t mind me foregoing the formalities, as this letter is meant only for your eyes and mine.
there’s a lot i want to say to you; there has been, these past few years, but ironically, when i think about it, i find myself lost for words. how do you verbalize an emotion you’re pretty sure no one else in the world has ever felt? i can’t even put a name to it, you know—regret, guilt, shame… all come close, but they still fall short in the end.
diluc felt that same ache that had bloomed at his core during kaeya’s visit; that same bone-deep pain, not enough to hurt, but enough to be felt. strongly. his throat seized, slightly, as he read on.
this kind of honesty is something i haven’t expressed in a long while. perhaps that is why it’s so hard for me to put these feelings into words, but would anyone be able to know the right thing to say after such a grave mistake? even that phrase, “grave mistake,” feels too gentle to properly describe the ways in which i, for lack of nicer wording, screwed up—the ways in which i hurt you. i don’t think any amount of attempts will ever allow me to find these words that i’m searching for, and i also don’t think any amount of apology could ever truly encompass how sorry i really i am, but allow me to try, in this letter and in these gifts.
the gifts, first; you know how i love tricky symbolism these days. or maybe you don’t. in any case, the flower crown is rather simple; i know lamp grass is your favorite, both because of its shape and how it glows. if nothing else, i suppose i wanted you to know that i haven’t forgotten about the things you care about. not even the smallest ones. i don’t expect you to remember my favorites—
windwheel asters first, diluc recalled; kaeya loved the way they spun with the wind, true to their namesake. then snapdragons, and then calla lilies, but the windwheel asters remained a close second.
—or anything, but i will never forget yours. and then the ring… well, this one is a bit more sentimental. i’m sure you remember our crystalfly catching expeditions—we had them far too often, at your behest, for you to ever forget, i’m sure. i still find myself hesitant to take the cores, so i requested the help of who i knew would’ve been an enthusiastic participant: the spark knight herself! i wish you were there to see klee’s face when i told her who we were doing this for—it was priceless. one day she’ll come around on you. i know it.
that leaves me with officially no more bushes to beat around, and all we are left with is this: the apology. in this moment of honesty, i must admit i’m not sure that i see a point to even writing the words “i’m sorry.” how much good would they do you? i hurt you in a way i could never expect you to forgive, but selfishly hope that you will forgive.
so, instead i’ll tell you this: neither a day nor a night has gone by where i haven’t thought back to that particular night. where i haven’t either consciously replayed the events in my mind or dreamt about them. and every single time, there’s that burning feeling again—the one i can’t quite describe, the one that surfaces immediately and all at once when i see father master crepus laying there with you at his side, and i make no move to run to you. that feeling has never left me, not truly. i can ignore it during the day, sure, when i have work or other activities to distract me, but when it’s just me, at night? that’s uncharted territory. and maybe that’s why you see me at your tavern every time you’re there—it’s an escape i use often; and often, too, it is futile.
crimson eyes were trained on the strikethrough for what must have been several minutes; his brow furrowed. did kaeya truly think himself so separate, now, that he could not even refer to—to their father as such?
now i’m not entirely positive that there’s an apology anywhere in there, but i hope that in your reading, you will be able to find some semblance of one. and i hope that it will be enough. but even if it isn’t, i understand that, too. it’s not like we have to see each other every day anymore, right?
well, now that that’s out there… i suppose i will bid you goodnight, or good afternoon, or whatever time of day you choose to read this at. a bit grim for a birthday letter, i know, but this simply means next year’s will be much less… heavy, in content.
happy birthday, again, diluc. i hope it treats you kindly.
from: k
sincerely,
kaeya
his hands were shaking more intensely now than before he even opened the gifts, as he gripped the paper tight but not tight enough to cause damage. diluc willed himself, strongly, to ease his hold upon the letter, which held content more precious than he could ever have realized. he tucked the crown and the ring back into their box with the accompanying note, and folded the letter delicately, giving it a temporary home in the breast pocket of the coat he had chosen to wear. and before standing to leave, he placed one hand, touch feather-light, upon the ground that had been marred years ago, and found himself smiling… in spite of everything.
-
later that morning, the young winery owner did indeed find himself awake and, miraculously, energetic enough to take on the task of picking grapes, one which most people would describe as tedious. adelinde had been gracious enough to offer him her assistance, and even when he tried to resist, she maintained a respectful kind of stubbornness that was impossible to say no to.
“master diluc!” she said gleefully as she watched him at work. “you look like you’re in a good mood today. it’s not often that i see you picking grapes.”
he turned to her with a smile and, if at all possible, her face brightened even more. “thank you for keeping me company, adelinde.”
adelinde’s own expression turned soft, so clearly harboring a strong affection for the young man. “it’s my pleasure, master diluc. after all, who could say no to some time outside on a day like this?”
diluc hummed his agreement, smile never disappearing, though it did shrink and lighten in nature. “perhaps next time, we’ll invite kaeya.”
it was all adelinde could do not to tackle the young man out of pure joy.