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Mornings at the Dawn Winery, out in the periphery of Mondstadt, are often quiet affairs. There's always the singing of waking birds and of other insects, of course, and during the harvest season, Diluc will often hear the sounds of the seasonal workers toiling, calling out to each other in vineyards.
But it is currently smack in the middle of one of Mondstadt’s relatively mild winters. And so, when Diluc is roused by voices at his bedroom door, he is understandably disoriented. Confused and curious at the noise, he tries to sit up, and is taken aback by the grogginess permeating throughout every inch of his aching body.
The voices stop at the sound of his hoarse groan.
“Master Diluc?” Adelinde calls, rushing in through the doorway. “You're finally awake. How are you feeling?”
Like absolute shit, but Diluc isn't going to use that kind of language in front of Adelinde.
For her part, Adelinde just sighs, before she takes a seat on the side of his mattress, pushing him gently back down.
“Thank you, doctor,” she calls quietly over her shoulder. “I'll make sure that he takes his medicine.”
There's a murmur of acknowledgement, and then the sounds of footsteps creaking down the wooden corridor outside. Diluc frowns, pressing a hand to his aching temple.
“What happened?” he croaks, and winces. His throat hurts just as badly as the rest of him.
“You're on some sedatives, and you need to finish a course of antibiotics,” Adelinde informs him, and then smiles, a little tiredly. “You've been asleep for two days, Master Diluc. You returned from Dragonspine in quite the state. The doctor says you've caught pneumonia.”
At the mention of Dragonspine, everything comes rushing back
He had been on Dragonspine, investigating a treasure hoarder base. Except he never got there. He ran into a hilichurl camp on the way up, which normally wouldn't have been an issue, but he hadn't seen the lawachurl on the other side of the hut. He'd been sent flying down the side of the slope and, in his infinitely good fortune, had smashed right through the ice of a frozen lake, and ended up in the water.
His memory of events are somewhat foggy after that, but he must somehow have managed to stumble home, wet and frozen as he was.
“I need to go back to Dragonspine,” he says, consideringly.
For a moment, Adelinde just stares at him.
“Master Diluc,” she finally says. “You have pneumonia. The doctor said that you should not be out of bed, let alone hiking up into frozen tundra.”
“My information network told me that these treasure hoarders move their base every few weeks,” Diluc explains. “If I don't catch them at their current base, they will move again.”
He tries to sit up a second time, but Adelinde just pushes him back down, a little less gently this time.
“Then I will inform the knights,” she says sharply. “I trust your intel is in the safe under your desk? I will pass it to them for review.”
“The knights are inefficient,” Diluc protests, “and incredibly short-staffed. By the time they get to it—”
“You have pneumonia, Master Diluc,” Adelinde interrupts, her tone brooking no argument. “I will see Master Kaeya personally to pass him the intel. In the meantime, you will stay in bed.”
“But—” Diluc begins to argue, before falling silent at the look that Adelinde gives him.
The winery’s head maid Adelinde is a polite and soft-spoken woman with the impeccable manners of one who takes great pride in maidly etiquette. She is also the woman who had stepped up, in the absence of a mistress of the household, to raise two incredibly rambunctious and restless boys.
With Father gone, Diluc is now master of the house, but it's still difficult not to quail under the thunderous expression of the woman who washed your mouth out with bar soap when you were thirteen.
“Yes, Adelinde,” he mutters, slumping back down into his pillows.
Despite himself, he falls back into an exhausted sleep once Adelinde has taken her leave. He has strange fever dreams that warp and melt in odd twists of logic that he can never quite follow. When he next wakes, however, the sun outside his window seems to indicate that it is late afternoon, and he is notably less groggy.
The sedatives have worn off.
He sits up slowly, and then clears his throat testingly. He winces at the pain in his throat. His chest feels heavy and constricted, as well. It hurts a little when he breathes too deeply, so he shallows his breathing as he swings his legs off the side of the bed, and stands.
A little dizzy, but so far so good.
He walks slowly out of his bedroom and down the hall towards his study. Here and there, he has to stop for a moment, wincing at the pounding in his head, or else simply catching his breath. Otherwise, everything is fine. When he finally makes it to his study, he bends down to check the safe under his desk.
The intel for the treasure hoarders camp is gone, so Adelinde must have taken it to the knights as promised.
After a moment, he straightens with a sigh, and seats himself at his desk. For a lack of anything better to do, he begins to read the letters in his letter tray, sorting through the paperwork for the Dawn Winery’s exports. It's tedious, boring work, but it has to be done.
As he works, he finds his eyelids beginning to droop, and has to shake himself awake a few times. After about half an hour, a tickle in his throat begins, turning eventually into a cough, at first quiet and sporadic, but eventually growing into short fits of uncontrollable coughing.
It's in the middle of a rather violent coughing fit that Elzer comes trotting into his study, with a tray in his arms and a look of alarm on his face.
“Master Diluc?” he asks. “What are you doing here? Adelinde said you were to remain in bed.”
Diluc manages to suppress the coughing long enough to respond.
“Where is Adelinde?” he asks.
Elzer sets the tray he'd been carrying down on Diluc's desk. It looks like he'd brought tea and some light snacks, evidently to be taken with the pills and bottles of syrup also laid out on the tray. Is it already time for Diluc’s next dose?
“She's gone to the city to drop off something with the knights,” Elzer says. “Master Diluc, why are you not in bed?”
Another cough wracks Diluc’s body. He takes a sip of the hot tea on the tray. It’s honey lemon.
“I was taking care of winery affairs,” he explains. “Those things don't take care of themselves and they pile up.”
For a moment, Elzer just looks at him.
“Master Diluc,” he finally says. “You have pneumonia. You were coughing so badly that I heard you from the kitchens. You should be in bed.”
“I'll be fine after this dose of cough suppressants,” Diluc says, waving a hand dismissively towards the tray. “There's still some paperwork—”
“I will take care of the paperwork at the winery,” Elzer cuts in. “Please rest.”
“And what about my shift at the Angel’s Share?” Diluc protests. “Don't you need to cover it? Charles won't be able to manage the weekend crowd on his own.”
“Connor can do that,” Elzer says, without pause, and then raises one arm to gesture towards the door. “Now, please, back to bed with you, Master Diluc.”
Under Elzer’s insistent gaze, Diluc grudgingly returns to his room.
He takes the tea and the snacks there, in the sitting area by the window. The medication has all been spooned out and the pills assembled in their correct doses, so he takes those too. Then for a lack of anything else to do, he glumly lies back down, and closes his eyes.
He’ll stay in bed for a bit to appease Elzer, and then, after that… he can…
When he opens his eyes again, he's surprised to find that, from the position of the sun through his bedroom window, it's already morning.
He'd slept through the evening and the entire night.
He feels even better today than he did the day before, however, so after a moment, he sits up, stretching a little— before getting up to go downstairs for breakfast. Adelinde does not seem to be around, but with Connor gone, she might very well be out in the vineyards on his behalf, so he's served a bowl of chicken noodle soup by Hillie instead.
“That's what Adelinde said to make,” she says, when Diluc asks, and then brings out a small tray with all his medications on it.
He goes back up to his study when he's done, but his letter tray is empty, which is highly unusual. But then again, Elzer had said he would take care of the winery matters, so he must have taken the new letters and outstanding paperwork to his own desk.
With a sigh, Diluc opens the safe under his desk, and takes out some of his other work.
By the time he's halfway through the informant report he'd received on Fatui activity, two weeks ago, he's… nodding off a little. He shakes his head a little, trying to shake himself awake, but the tiredness does not abate.
It's probably the medication beginning to take effect again.
In the end, he tucks the documents back in the safe, and stands. Perhaps a walk will serve to clear his head and wake him up. He can probably inspect the vineyards while he's at it too. While Connor is usually in charge, he’s probably at the Angels Share now, as per Elzer’s instructions.
Going down the stairs, he has to pause a few times, shaking his head to clear his sight of the sudden double vision, before continuing carefully down each step. As he finally reaches out for the front door, however, the doors swing open before his touch, and on the other side…
Kaeya blinks, hard.
“Diluc?” he asks, somewhat incredulously.
“Kaeya?” Diluc says, at the same time.
For a moment, they just stare at each other.
“Where are you going?” Kaeya finally asks, flatly.
“What are you doing here?” Diluc demands, at the same time.
There's another moment of awkward silence.
“I was just going to take a walk and inspect the vineyards,” Diluc finally admits, a little grudgingly.
“That's Connor’s job,” Kaeya points out, unimpressed. “What are you doing out of bed?”
“Connor is covering my shift at the Angel’s Share,” Diluc retorts, “and in any case, I'm feeling absolutely fine. I'm in good health.”
Kaeya laughs— laughs, mirthlessly.
“That’s fucking horseshit, Diluc,” he says. “Get back in the house.”
“Am I not allowed to take a walk on my own damn property?” Diluc questions incredulously.
“Not in your shirtsleeves in the middle of winter when you have pneumonia,” Kaeya says, and reaches out, firmly gripping him by the shoulders, before turning him forcefully around. “Back in the house.”
Diluc tries to resist, but although a match of strength between a claymore user and a sword user would usually be easily decided, today, he struggles valiantly, but is ultimately unable to stop Kaeya from practically frogmarching him back into the manor.
With a hand on each of Diluc’s shoulders, Kaeya presses him firmly down onto one of the couches, forcing him to sit.
“Wait here,” Kaeya says sternly, “and don't try to get up and leave the house.”
You can't tell me what to do, Diluc wants to say, but seeing as Kaeya had just managed to do exactly that with physical force, he bites down on it. Kaeya seems to read the mutiny in his eyes, nonetheless.
“I'll tell Adelinde,” he threatens, giving Diluc one last warning look, before stalking off in the direction of the kitchens.
Sighing, Diluc leans back against the backrest, and drapes a hand exasperatedly over his eyes.
“Diluc?”
He shakes himself awake at the call of his name. In front of him, it looks like Kaeya has returned from the kitchens. He's setting a cup of some hot beverage — judging from the steam rising from the mug — down on the coffee table.
His single visible eye carries an air of concern.
Had Diluc… fallen asleep?
After a moment, however, Diluc just sighs, and picks up the cup. The aroma of ginger and lemon wafts up towards his nose. It's not tea. It's honey lemon again, apparently.
“Why are you here, Kaeya?” he finally asks, exasperated.
“Adelinde dropped off some intel about a treasure hoarder base in Dragonspine,” Kaeya explains, taking a seat on the couch opposite from Diluc. “Said it was your intel, but that you have pneumonia and can't go sort it out. I decided to drop by on my way to Dragonspine to check on you.”
“I'm fine,” Diluc insists crankily. “I'd be even better if I could take a goddamn walk without the entire winery trying to usher me back into bed.”
Kaeya huffs.
“Because they’re all worried,” he adds dryly. “Maybe if you took better care of yourself, they wouldn't worry as much about letting you out of the house.”
“I'm not so unwell anymore that I can't get out of bed to walk around,” Diluc complains. “Any doctor would probably agree. Vision wielders recover quicker from illness, and I'm a pyro user. I don't get cold as easily.”
“Try telling Adelinde that then,” Kaeya retorts, with a laugh. “She was extremely worried about you, you know? But I suppose that isn't entirely a bad thing. She'll likely invite a doctor over for a checkup again soon. You can take it up with the doctor then.”
Diluc just crosses his arms at that, scowling moodily down at the table. That draws a quiet chuckle from Kaeya. Having apparently said his piece, Kaeya finally stands, dusting off imaginary lint from his elaborate clothing with a sigh.
“Alright then,” he says, with an air of finality. “I need to head off for Dragonspine now, or I might not make it back by nightfall. I certainly don't want to be up in that frozen hellhole of a place past sundown.”
His eyes soften for a moment then, as he reaches out, clapping Diluc on the shoulder.
“Take care,” he says, a little more gently now. “Don't cause Adelinde too much grief, alright?”
The next time Diluc opens his eyes—
He's… still on the couch, where Kaeya had left him, and Moco is shaking him gently awake.
“Master Diluc,” she whispers. “Master Diluc, please wake up. You shouldn't sleep here.”
Had he— fallen asleep? Again?
He blinks once, shaking his head, but his eyelids are still drooping. In the end, he allows himself to be ushered back up to his bedroom, yawning the whole time.
He is asleep again the moment his head hits the pillow.
He sleeps through lunch, waking in the afternoon to find food and medication waiting on the stand by his bed. Sitting up, he obediently takes all the pills and carefully allotted syrups, before he eats, eyes still half-closed with exhaustion.
By the time he’s done with lunch, the new dose is kicking in once more.
He crawls into bed, and goes back to sleep.
A quiet rap on his doorway wakes him again, closer to dinner time. He opens his eyes to see Hillie at the door, and behind her—
“Hello,” Jean says, with a quiet smile.
While Diluc puts on a dressing gown, and tries to put his hair up into some semblance of order, Jean goes back down to wait on the first floor. She's drinking from a teacup when he finally joins her in the sitting area.
“When Kaeya came back this afternoon from Dragonspine,” she explains, without having to be asked, “he asked me to come see you in my capacity as a healer.”
“He’s managed to sort out the case then?” Diluc asks, and Jean nods.
“Yes,” she confirms. “The treasure hoarders are currently in custody.”
With that said, she finally sets down her teacup, before holding a hand out to him.
“May I perform a check-up?” she asks.
Having attained his consent, she runs a short inspection and does a bit of minor healing, before finally sitting back, offering him another faint smile.
“Healing through visions work best on injuries, not illnesses like pneumonia,” she admits. “But I repaired some of the tissue damage from your battle on Dragonspine, and tried my best to ease some of the muscle fatigue from the coughing. You may walk outside if you like, but taking in mind that it's currently winter, it would be best to stay indoors. If you have to go out, don't stay outside for longer than ten minutes at a time, and please wear a coat.”
Winters in Mondstadt aren't even cold, Diluc thinks rebelliously. It doesn't even snow.
In the end, however, he decides to keep his complaints to himself.
“Fine,” he grumbles, which draws a smile from Jean.
Finally, she reaches into her coat pocket, drawing out something that looks like…
She squeezes it, lightly, and it produces a quiet squeak.
“From Kaeya,” she explains, passing it to him. “He says that you keep trying to get up and do inadvisable things, and he thinks it's because of boredom. So he asked me to bring this to you.”
It's a strange kind of… stress ball, with some buttons along one side that click when pressed.
Diluc is unamused.
“Aren’t you much too busy to be running deliveries?” he finally asks, as he sets the toy down on the table. “I often hear about how busy you are, and now Kaeya has the gall to make you run delivery errands for him?”
“I'm here on personal time,” Jean corrects. After a moment, her expression softens. “We’ve been friends since we were children. Is it strange that I would wish to see you when you are injured and ill?”
Diluc can't help but soften, as well, at that.
“Will you stay for dinner?” he asks.
“Oh,” Jean says, sounding vaguely surprised, and then, she flushes. “I wouldn't want to impose on your household.”
“Adelinde has always liked you,” Diluc insists. “I think… she would be happy, if you stayed.”
By the time Jean leaves, the sky is turning dark outside the windows of the Dawn Winery. Diluc is… more tired than he had expected, after sitting up for so long.
The stumble up the stairs to his bedroom passes in a bit of a blur, and when he next resurfaces into consciousness— it is already the next day.
He lies there in bed for a moment, listening to the birds sing and watching the clouds pass through his window. Then, he gets up, stretching a little, and begins to get dressed.
He has breakfast, and then his medications, before heading straight for the door. He's been cleared for a walk, and would dearly love to feel the sun on his skin again.
On the way out of the manor, he hears the sound of Adelinde’s voice, apparently chiding Hillie and Moco again. This time, it seems to be about the upkeep of the cellar, in light of Connor’s current absence.
He walks around the other side of the manor so that they won't see him.
Out over the grounds of the Dawn Winery, vineyards stretch out in all directions, with the fruits of all their labor hanging delicately upon those twining branches. He walks out between the trellises, admiring the vines where, come next year, plump, ripening grapes will form, admiring the morning sun as it filters down through the last remainders of pale, yellowing leaves.
This is the land of his childhood, of his inheritance, and it is a beautiful land indeed, with the air so fresh, and the wind so mild, carrying that faint scent of freshwater from the rivers lining the edge of the estate.
He walks for a long time, just breathing in the dewy scent of the winery and the nature that surrounds it. He ends up walking further than expected, however, so caught up in that quiet peace, when nearing the statue of the seven overlooking the grounds, he finally hears something… out of the ordinary.
Human voices, at least a squadron’s worth of them, distorted in the distinctive way of a Fatuus’ mask.
“— for our operations in Dragonspine,” that distorted voice is saying.
“Do you think we will be pulled out of Mondstadt soon then?” another voice asks.
“I'm not sure,” the first voice admits. “It seems the researchers have not made much progress.”
There's a sigh.
“I would sooner be back in the unforgiving frost of Snezhnaya,” another voice says glumly, “then be stuck a moment longer in this foreign winterland.”
It’s a Fatui squadron, and they are clearly heading for Dragonspine. Are they connected with the treasure hoarders then? Had the knights not fully weeded those vermin out, or… or had Diluc’s intel been missing a crucial player?
He finds himself following them at a distance, keeping to the wooded areas for camouflage. They do not speak again, however, much to his frustration. They just continue to walk in silence towards the snowcaps of Dragonspine’s high peaks.
As they draw nearer and nearer to the tundra of the mountains, the cold begins to prickle first at Diluc’s throat, and then his lungs, but still, he tries his best to suppress the coughing. Still, he tries his best to suppress the fatigue from his long, long walk. He's beginning to lag behind a little though, despite his best efforts, the distance between him and the Fatui squadron growing and growing until—
Until he hears the sound of a familiar voice.
“Heading up again?” the voice asks.
The squadron has stopped to address that lone, blonde figure, so Diluc takes the chance to catch up with them, pressing a hand over his mouth to try and stop the incoming coughing fit.
“Yes, our research is still ongoing,” the apparent leader of the squadron replies.
“Any progress?” the voice asks.
“That's classified information,” the Fatuus says. “I apologize.”
There's a quiet, but not quite offended huff.
“Of course,” says the Chief Alchemist. “I will be heading back to Mondstadt for supplies. I wish you the best of luck on your research.”
“As to you,” the Fatui leader says.
The two parties part ways. While Albedo heads back in the direction of Mondstadt City, the Fatui squadron continues in the direction of Dragonspine’s looming spires.
Diluc makes to follow the squadron, still with a hand pressed to his mouth, but in the fogginess that has overtaken his senses, he does not notice a root in his path. He trips, catching himself on the trunk of a nearby tree.
That seems enough to draw the Chief Alchemist’s attention.
“Who's there?” he calls out sharply, looking out into the trees, before blinking, in apparent surprise. “Is that… Master Ragnvindr of the Dawn Winery?”
Diluc’s bright red hair has never been an asset in espionage.
“It's me,” he confirms hoarsely.
His politeness draws him reluctantly out of the foliage and into the clearing, where Albedo draws a quick glance up and down his body. Albedo’s expression tightens a little, but he doesn't say anything else.
“What brings you here, Master Ragnvindr?” he asks.
“That Fatui squadron,” Diluc answers honestly, and then lets out another quiet cough, unable to suppress it. “Do you, by any chance, know anything about what they are doing on Dragonspine?”
“Research,” Albedo answers simply, before his expression grows a little wry. “The Fatui have an authorised base in Dragonspine.”
“Authorized?” Diluc repeats incredulously, before letting out another cough.
Albedo huffs again.
“The knights are indeed suspicious of the Fatui,” he discloses, “especially the ones under the Eighth, Signora, but the Regrator’s men have been here longer than that, and they filed the appropriate paperwork. They're researching the sheer cold phenomenon in Dragonspine, particularly along the edges of it.”
When Diluc just shoots him a disbelieving look, Albedo shrugs, and continues nonchalantly.
“It's natural for places to get cold at high altitudes, but even the base of Dragonspine is immensely cold,” he explains, and smiles, wryly. “In any case, the knights grudgingly approved the paperwork, so that particular Fatui squadron is here legitimately.”
He pauses for a moment, looking Diluc over again, before he continues.
“You don't look too well, Master Ragnvindr,” he notes. “Are you alright? You were coughing just now. From the sound of it, it sounds like fluid in the lungs.”
Right.
“I’m little unwell,” Diluc admits, “but it's fine. It's just a cough.”
Albedo’s eyes narrow. For a moment, he just looks upon Diluc consideringly, in that disconcerting, assessing gaze of his. After a moment, however, he seems to come to some sort of conclusion.
Reaching to his side, he draws a vial out from within his pack, and holds it up within his palm. Then, he clenches his hand, the contents of his fist lighting up very briefly, before he opens his fist again.
There is syrup within the vial now.
“This is a cough suppressant I alchemize for Klee on the rare occasions that she is ill,” he explains. “It is a recipe of my own invention, very effective from my own research. Until you can see a doctor again, would you like to try it?”
Diluc looks at that strange, alchemised liquid for a moment, before he sighs, and acquiesces. After all, according to the Chief Alchemist, this medication has been tested by the Spark Knight herself. Albedo cares for her, greatly, even considering her to be his sibling.
“Alright,” he says, taking the vial from Albedo.
“I suggest we leave the vicinity of Dragonspine,” Albedo says, when Diluc is done drinking from it. “The cold is detrimental to your condition.”
Halfway back towards the expansive estate of the Dawn Winery, Diluc stumbles against a nearby tree, feeling abruptly groggy.
“What…?” he murmurs.
Beside him, Albedo draws to a halt as well.
“Are you quite alright, Master Ragnvindr?” he asks.
“Fine,” Diluc says, but on his next step, his knee buckles.
Albedo catches him before he can fall, with surprising strength.
“Dizzy,” Diluc admits. “Even dizzier than I usually feel after my medication.”
“When was the last time you had any medication?” Albedo asks.
“This morning?” Diluc says. “So only just.”
There's a moment of silence between them.
“I apologize, Master Ragnvindr,” Albedo finally says. “I have inadvertently given you a double dose of tranquilizing medication.”
Oh.
Diluc tries to stand upright of his own accord, but fails.
“And,” Albedo continues, after another long moment, “it occurs to me that the medication I alchemise for Klee is rather strong. Without sufficiently strong medication, you see, she’ll be running out to play before I can stop it. Her constitution is rather more resilient than the average human.”
Diluc blinks once, and then twice, before slumping slowly to the ground. Albedo guides his descent with a hand under his elbow.
“My apologies,” Albedo says again, after a moment. “Please excuse me.”
Then, with surprising strength for one so slight, he hefts Diluc up onto his back like a sack of potatoes, and continues in the direction of the Dawn Winery.
Mornings at the Dawn Winery, out in the periphery of Mondstadt, are often quiet affairs. And that's why the sound of voices, downstairs in the manor, and in the corridor outside his bedroom, is a rather strange and unordinary sound to wake up to.
Groggily, Diluc pushes himself upright against his pillows.
“Hello?” he calls out hoarsely.
A moment later, there is the distinct clicking of heels against the wooden floorboards, before Barbara comes in through the doorway and over to his bedside. As Diluc carefully sits up against the pillows, she sits down in the chair by his bed.
“Master Diluc!” she cries, sounding relieved. “You're finally awake.”
“How long have I been asleep?” Diluc asks.
“A day and a half,” Barbara informs him, before reaching out. “May I perform a check-up?”
Sighing, Diluc just nods in agreement.
There's the sounds of a young girl’s laughter, drifting up the stairs and up the corridor to his room, accompanied by the cooing of a few familiar voices — his female staff. Finally, however, Barbara draws back with a smile.
“Who is that downstairs?” Diluc immediately asks.
“Klee,” Barbara explains. “She heard you got sick after taking the medication Albedo usually alchemises for her. She wanted to see you, so Kaeya brought her here.”
“Where's Kaeya?” Diluc asks.
“Out in the vineyards,” Barbara replies, before reaching behind her.
There's a tray on the nightstand with a pot of steaming tea, as well as his medications. She pours him a cup, before continuing.
“He got pulled into helping one of your elderly staff, Tunner I believe, with the heavy weightlifting, since Connor isn't around.”
She picks up the cup, and offers it to him. He takes it on reflex.
“You should take better care of himself,” she chides quietly, as he takes his first sip of it.
Ginger. From the slight sweetness, there's honey in it too.
More honey lemon.
“But I'm okay, am I not?” Diluc asks, a little dryly.
“You're not in immediate danger,” Barbara admits. She takes the empty cup from him when he is done, putting it back on the tray, before turning to smile at him again. “Healing usually works better on injuries than illnesses like yours, but I tried my best to help with some of the muscle fatigue from the coughing.”
Jean had said the same thing.
“Thank you,” Diluc says, genuinely. “I didn't expect you to come.”
“You're important to a lot of people, Master Diluc,” Barbara says. “So please don't make them worry for you!”
She stands then, offering him a last smile, before she leaves the room.
After she leaves, Diluc helps himself to the breakfast on the tray on his nightstand. This time, it is oatmeal— sweet, warm, and fragrant. His medication has also been set out in its appropriate doses.
Once he is done, a knock on his windowsill calls for his attention. When he turns, he sees a familiar teal-cloaked figure sitting in his window.
“Venti,” he says, quite unamused. “What are you doing here?”
With a chiming laugh, Venti floats up in a burst of anemo, landing gracefully within the confines of the bedroom. He takes a seat on the couch in the sitting area of Diluc’s room, crossing one leg delicately over the other.
“To see you, of course,” he says. “I heard that you were ill. I also heard that you refuse to take care of yourself, and that it has caused everyone much grief.”
“Everyone is too fussy,” Diluc immediately retorts grumpily, but Venti just laughs.
“Isn't it because they all care about you?” he teases.
Diluc is quiet for a moment, his silence grudging. Finally, Venti offers him a smile.
“You have many people who care about you, you know?” he says gently, and laughs again. “Barbara was right about that. You should take better care of yourself, or they will worry. My, even the tavern regulars have noticed that you haven’t been on shift. They gave Connor a gift basket to bring back.”
Despite himself, Diluc can't help but be a little touched at that.
“I'm sorry,” he mutters.
Venti just shrugs, before manifesting his lyre with a soft, teal glow. He sets it upon his lap, before looking back up at Diluc.
“Shall I offer a song to soothe your restless spirit?” he asks, with a grin, and a wink. “I only hope it will bring you peace enough to rest for a spell.”
“A walk outside would probably do that better than another rendition of One Hundred Bottles of Rum,” Diluc cuts in, dryly. “Again.”
Venti lets out a surprised bark of laughter, before looking at him again, his eyes unbearably fond.
“If you'd like to go outside,” he says, “you’re welcome to try, but Jean and Kaeya both called in a favor with me, so I highly doubt you’ll succeed.”
“What does that even mean?” Diluc asks incredulously.
“I've placed a wind barrier around the house,” Venti explains. “You won't be able to leave for the next three days.”
At Diluc's disbelieving look, he chuckles.
“The windows too,” he adds, “so don't try to climb out.”
“Aren't you the god of freedom?” Diluc demands, outraged. “Isn’t this imprisonment?”
But Venti merely laughs.
“Kaeya offered me a bottle of dandelion wine everyday for the next week,” he explains.
Wow.
There's still a bit of food left on the tray so, grumblingly, Diluc finishes the rest of it. In the meantime, Venti returns to sit in the windowsill, giving his lyre a testing strum, before he quietly begins to sing.
The medication seems to kick in by the time that Diluc is done with his meal, so he settles back down against his pillows, drawing his quilt back up to his chin. He drifts in and out of a light doze to the sounds of a quiet lyre, to the sounds of quiet singing, to the sounds of a child downstairs, playing, and to the sounds of people out in the vineyards.
When he was still in Snezhnaya, he recalls suddenly, he had gotten pneumonia once, too. It had been a miserable and lonely experience, with no one else around, save him in his secluded camp, hiding from the world. He'd been all alone then, and it had been so dreadfully cold, but here—
Here, it is warm, with the sounds of friendly voices all around.
It's not such a bad thing to be sick, he realizes then, when there are people around to care for you. Indeed, there is no place like home.
Drawn to peace by the sounds of singing, by the sounds of voices, by the sounds of home—
He falls gently, and peacefully, back into sleep.