Chapter Text
The windy early-spring air of Mondstadt blows by as leaves and branches crunch under your boots. The sun is high in the sky, and hitting your face with undeniable warmth. Since it was nearly freezing this morning, you’d worn a heavier outfit, not expecting the sun to make an appearance. Although you typically like to take a brief rest at the waterfall outside of Dragonspine, the perspiration on your face was motivation in itself to not, and you continued on with your patrol. The last leg consisted of looping around the Dawn Winery and following the trails back to Mondstadt.
The end of the patrol was in sight — you reached the leftmost tip of the Dawn Winery, and just had to get back into the city. The heat was restricting at this point, so you found shelter under a tree and sat on the grass, taking a minute to cool down. The tree provided a welcome shade, and the cool wind coming off the lake was refreshing. The Dawn Winery was one of your favorite places to patrol; the beauty of it was indescribable. You gazed into the water and became lost in your thoughts.
A loud splash on the other side of the bank disrupted your serenity. Half agitated and half curious, you stood up to get a better view of what plummeted into the water. The motionless lump soon began splashing and squawking — it was a bird! You quickly stripped your shoes and dove into the water, swimming to it. Thankfully, the water was shallow enough to stand, because the bird seemingly did not want to get saved – it thrashed its wings and feet around, its talons slicing your arm.
You didn’t let up and were able to wrestle the bird into your arms and tread back to shore. You quietly talked, hoping to calm both the bird and yourself. The adrenaline and the cold water made your heart race as you tried to focus, feeling your body tense with every splashing motion of the bird. Realizing that you were trying to help, the bird stopped thrashing and accepted your aid. You climbed back up onto the bank and gently placed the bird onto your lap, drying it with a towel you fetched from your bag. You lifted its wing and it squawked in resistance.
A gasp escaped you -- the wing was broken! “How in the world did you do this?” A chirp and blank stare was the response you got. “I suppose it is rather windy today, did you fall? Be more careful next time!” You laughed as you lightheartedly reprimanded the bird, trying to distract it from your fingers poking and prodding at its wound. The bird stared at you with wide, unblinking eyes, almost as if listening to your words. You became so focused on the bird that you didn’t even hear the footsteps of the person walking up next to you – only becoming alerted of his presence when he speaks.
“You’re awfully loud for someone trying to heal an injured animal.”
The voice is low, but unmistakably calm; deep, with just enough edge to make you freeze mid-motion. You slowly look up, taking in the man standing above you. His loose, crimson hair blew in the wind as he stood with crossed arms. The man standing just mere paces away is the wine tycoon himself, Diluc Ragnvindr.
The first thing you notice – after the intense gaze of his crimson eyes – was the fact he was without his usual coat. No armor, no claymore. Just a simple black shirt, with rolled sleeves which displayed his muscular forearms. He stood with practiced confidence – almost too still, making it hard to guess how long he had been standing there.
You shift your attention back to the bird, chirping impatiently. “I didn’t realize I had an audience.”
Diluc's gaze drops to the bird in your lap. “That bird... it’s not local; it appears to be a saker falcon. Timid – not the type to let someone hold it, much less patch it up.”
You hum in response. “I did have to put up quite the fight.” The bird ruffles its feathers in response, wincing as the damaged wing moved. Diluc shifted his weight.
“Although it seems to have taken a liking to you, I wouldn't recommend wasting your time on it. Birds that encounter injuries – especially wing injuries – early in life have a low survival rate in the wild. Considering it's not native to Mondstadt, its chances of survival decrease even more.”
You stopped listening after the first sentence. You were determined to help the bird, no matter its fate. You didn’t respond, focusing on wrapping its wing with bandages you got from your bag. The wing was nearly finished when you saw a shadow above you, then heard a voice speak just a bit too close to your ear.
“You missed a spot.”
You flinch slightly at the closeness of his voice, the warmth of his breath hitting your cheek. Glancing over at him, you realized he had kneeled down next to you. He points his gloved finger to the nearly finished wrapping, indicating a loose band of cloth you hadn’t noticed.
You blinked, caught off guard. “I thought you said this was a waste of time?”
“If you’re going to ignore my advice, you might as well do it properly.”
A faint smile appears on your face: Diluc’s actions surprised you, and the overall absurdity of the situation made it hard not to smile in disbelief. Diluc carefully reached his gloved hand down to the wing, lifting it slightly to get a better view. The bird flinched and ruffled its feathers at the unknown hand and squawked in protest.
You reached your arm over to the wing, brushing Diluc’s hand aside. “Here, let me –”
“You're injured.”
A plain statement, but one that made you blush nonetheless. Your sleeve had ridden up, exposing the wound you had forgotten about. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but it was beginning to swell.
“It’s worse than it looks. I actually had forgotten about it.” You state absentmindedly, returning your focus to the wing. Diluc did not immediately respond. He watched the bird, then shifted his gaze back to your arm.
A large gust of wind overtook the previously calm landscape. A shiver rattled your soaked body. You briskly finished completely wrapping the wing, eager to get home and change.
You breathed a sigh of relief. “There. All better now.” You spoke to the bird, who, in response, leans into your touch. Though still not entirely trusting, it is no longer afraid. You glance at Diluc, half expecting him to be gone.
“You should get that wound properly cleaned. Wounds from animals carry a risk of infection,”
“Is that your way of offering to help?” You responded, expecting him to deny you. Instead, he didn’t respond.
You took the momentary silence as a sign to keep talking. “Even so, I need to find somewhere for it to stay. I definitely don’t have room in my apartment, and it’ll die if we leave him in the wild.”
There’s another momentary pause, and then –
“The winery has space.”
You blinked. “What? The… winery?”
He nods, standing. “The stables are vacant this time of year. It'll be calm and quiet. I can make sure it’s looked after while you’re away.”
You look up at Diluc in surprise. You hesitate – not because you don’t trust him, but because… it’s him. Diluc Ragnvindr doesn’t just offer favors.
Not like this.
You take a moment to respond, willing your brain to think of a reason to decline. You knew there logically wasn’t anywhere else for it to stay. “Are you sure? It isn’t too much trouble?”
He met your gaze. “I wouldn’t have offered it if it was. Let’s go.” You nod, and carefully rise to your feet while holding the bird. It was peacefully sleeping in your arms – probably trying to recover after a traumatic day. The sun has dipped lower in the sky, wind sharper. You fall in line behind Diluc, who was carrying your bag. As you follow him along the lake’s edge, you feel a shift in the air – subtle, but real. Comfortable.
The walk was quiet. The length of the walk, combined with the wind and shade from the setting sun, nearly dryed you by the time you reached the stables. He opens the door to the stables, and you expect the familiar scent of manure and soiled hay to hit your nose. However, the stables were spotless – a sight foreign to you, but unsurprising for the Dawn Winery.
“Sit,” Diluc said as he gestured to a bench inside a stall. He cracked the window in the stall and disappeared into the tack room. You sighed; the weight of the day hitting you. Your eyelids closed, hoping for a brief minute of shut-eye. However, you were momentarily awakened by the sounds of clanging and shuffling. Diluc reappeared as you were mid-yawn.
Under one arm, he was carrying what looked to be a wine crate, lined with a cloth which he had folded into a shape resembling a nest. The other hand carried a flask and a small bag.
“This should work well enough – at least until the wing is healed, then I can get a perch,” Diluc stated simply, setting down the crate in the center of the room. “There are no drafts, so it should stay warm fairly easily.”
You smiled softly. “You sure do know a lot about birds.”
“Hardly.” He slipped the still-sleeping bird from your arms and gently placed it in the crate. Diluc responded, changing the subject, “Your arm-”
“I know,” you say with a quiet exhale. “I didn’t forget this time.” You roll up your sleeve to give him better access as he kneels beside you. A brief, unexpected tension settled between you as you became aware of the proximity. Diluc places the flask and small bag at your feet, then opens it to reveal the contents—towel, gauze, bandages—standard first aid supplies.
You scoffed at the sight. “You really were serious.” A pause. “I don’t think all this is necessary-”
“You aren’t the one looking at it,” Diluc said in a tone that finalized his decision; any rebuttal you had died in your throat. He reached for your arm, using a gentle touch to twist your wrist. He unwrapped the towel and unscrewed the flask, to which you gave a wary glance.
“Alcohol,” he responded, “this might sting.”
You nodded and turned your gaze from the man kneeling in front of you. The sharp sting of alcohol met your skin and you winced. Trying to distract yourself from the burning sensation, you watched the bird curled peacefully in its makeshift nest – how you wish that could be you!
“You’ve been through worse,” Diluc mumbles as he dabs away dried blood.
“I have,” you respond with a half-smile, “but not with someone hovering over me like a nurse.”
A pause: then, “You're lucky it wasn’t deeper.”
“I’ll be fine. Just another scar,” you murmur.
He pauses, eyes flickering up to meet yours. “Still… scars don’t mean nothing,” he says quietly.
You hum in response, not knowing what to say. He refocuses on bandaging your arm. Comfortable silence stretches between the two of you, accompanied by the faint rustling of the gauze.
Finally, Diluc spoke again, “That should hold. Just try not to get it wet.”
“I'll try my best,” you replied. Softer, you added, “Thank you.”
He just looked at you, and for a split second, something in his expression flickered – something softer than usual. He stood, wiping his hands on his thighs, and stepping back to give you space. After briefly glancing at the bird, he moved to shut the window.
“I'll have my maids look after it in the mornings. If you're free, you can visit in the evenings,” his voice a touch quieter. “It'll be less busy then.”
“Evenings, then.” You echoed with a smile, watching him a second longer than intended. You stood, flexing your newly bandaged arm. “Thanks again for letting the bird stay here. I would have hated to do all that work saving it just for it to die,” you exclaimed lightheartedly. Before you could say anything embarrassing, you grabbed your bag and headed for the door. You called over your shoulder, “Good night!” He gave a small nod, followed by an unreadable expression.
The door creaked softly behind you as you stepped into the cool air. The sky had deepened to a dark blue with stars starting to peek through. You sighed as the weight of the day pressed into your limbs as you embarked on your walk home. Your thoughts wandered as you walked – over the bird, the strange turn the evening had taken, and the man who had offered help more freely than you had expected.
The rest of the walk went by in a blur, and the walls of Mondstadt came into view – shortly followed by the view of your apartment. The moon was high in the sky, illuminating your path. A gust of cool breeze blew by you as you eagerly unlocked and entered your apartment. You didn’t bother turning on the lights – just kicked off your shoes and collapsed into bed, arm faintly throbbing under the bandage.
Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.