Work Text:
Why did I receive a letter inviting me to meet with the Knights? What could I possibly need to see them about?
Diluc ascends the stairway leading to the Headquarters of Ordo Favonius, remembering a time where doing so brought him an overwhelming sense of honor and pride. Those years seem far behind him now, replaced by a sense of loneliness and grief.
He swallows the nostalgia down, continuing onward. It's become a force of habit ever since he's returned years ago-- long after he'd traveled the far ends of Teyvat on an emotional travesty of justice. But as soon as the front door to the main hall swings open, he stops, stunned and swept back in time.
Or forward. Because on the opposite end of the hall, near the staircase, is a man he hasn't seen in a very long time.
"Grand Master..."
"Master Diluc," Varka replies with a wide smile, voice echoing along the walls. "How nice of you to join us."
"I- didn't know you were back," he stammers, somehow feeling like a young kid all over again in the tall man's presence.
"Heh, well- it's been quite an expedition. I kind of wanted it to be a surprise."
Varka motions for him to follow, and Diluc obeys. Together, they move through the halls seamlessly, slipping into the main conference room where everyone else is already gathered.
"Dottore... is dead."
Following Grand Master Varka's statement, the silence in the conference room stands thick and heavy, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock on the far wall.
Diluc feels the sensation of his heart almost dropping in his chest as he becomes keenly aware of everyone's eyes shifting around the room, eventually turning to stare at him, waiting to see how he responds.
Diluc has never been so self-conscious before in his life, as much as he is right now. Blinking a few times, he crosses his arms a little more tightly. "What are you all looking at?" he huffs.
Jean and Lisa exchange comfortable glances, while Kaeya and Albedo do the same on the opposite side of the table.
"Master Diluc, I'm sure that among all of us, you're the most relieved upon hearing the news." Varka's voice has a hint of authority mixed with compassion. "That's why I wanted to deliver the news personally."
"Dottore was nefarious throughout Teyvat for his crimes, including the planned attack on you and your father," he adds. "But we were able to bring justice upon him, thanks to the support of many allies, including a few of the Harbingers, the Moon Maiden, and the Traveler and Paimon. I hope this can bring you some comfort, knowing that he is no longer a threat to our world."
Diluc doesn't know what to say. But the sensation of heat and heaviness behind his eyes starts to build. He blinks the feeling away, closing his eyes and simply nodding in reply.
"Thank you for telling me."
After the meeting is adjourned, Diluc heads to the tavern to prepare for the evening shift. The night goes like any other, except for the fact that there are a lot of patrons he hasn't seen in years, of knights who had followed Grand Master Varka on their expedition. Quite a number of them had never set foot in a tavern because, well... they weren't of age when Diluc had left Mondstadt.
And, of course, the Grand Master himself is among those newly returned patrons.
"Ah, I've missed this," Varka laughs heartily, setting the empty mug down on the counter. "It's been too long."
"Mm." Diluc's crimson gaze floats upward, seeing himself reflected in Varka's deep blue eyes. "Can I get you anything else?"
"One more please, if you will," the Grand Master replies.
Diluc goes through the motions, not really stopping to think about anything in particular, when he hears Varka calling his name.
He turns with the mug, ready to hand it over, when he freezes.
Varka's the only one left in the empty tavern. He hasn't even seen Kaeya tonight, which is strange.
Diluc's eyes read the hands on the clock behind him. It's only eleven...
"Just in case you're wondering," Varka says matter-of-factly, interrupting his thoughts, "I paid for everyone's tabs in advance. They went home early."
"Why?"
"Well, I figured we're overdue for a talk."
"What is there to talk about?" Diluc goes to wipe down the counter, seeing that Varka's already done with his drink, as expected. "Would you like another?"
"Nah, I'm good for now, thanks." Varka grins. "And it's been years-- there's a lot to talk about." He leans into his crossed arms on the counter. "Like the fact that I heard you don't drink anymore. That's unfortunate... I wanted to share a drink to celebrate."
"I can't tolerate it like before," Diluc admits. "But I don't mind. I wasn't planning to drink anymore, anyway."
The Grand Master's expression turns grim. "Is it because of what happened?"
"It's... complicated."
"Hmm. Things sure have changed a lot since I've been home, it seems."
"Mm."
"Listen," Varka says, "I'm sorry things turned out the way they did. That it took so long for Dottore to get the justice he deserved."
"Don't worry about it. It's not your fault."
"But it is, in a way. The way your father's death was handled, it wasn't right." Varka's voice sounds calm, yet yearning to reach for him in a way he's not quite ready for. "I'm sorry for what Eroch did. I know Captain Jean and Captain Kaeya dealt with it while you were gone, but it doesn't make it hurt any less."
"It also doesn't bring him back," Diluc replies. "None of this does."
"Still," Varka insists, "I wanted to apologize personally, to have a heart to heart with you, man to man. Which is still strange to me, because it feels like just yesterday that you were a Captain, and so young..."
He continues. "What I mean to say is, your father would be proud to see the fine, young man you've grown up to be."
Would he, though? Diluc doesn't say those words, choosing to remain silent. He can't believe Varka's words. They're only meant to console me, to make me feel better. But they won't.
Still, he appreciates the effort anyway.
Varka takes out a letter from his coat pocket, setting it upon the table. Diluc's breath hitches as soon as he sees the familiar red seal, with their family's crest.
"This is for you," Varka states, voice solemn. "And this is for the patrons tonight." He puts a bag of Mora on the counter, heading out before Diluc can say anything else.
The solitude should feel nice after a busy evening at the tavern. But it just feels... empty.
Diluc takes the scroll in his hands, seeing that the seal is already broken. He begins to read.
Dear Varka,
You know, it still feels strange to address you as Grand Master, so you'll have to forgive me for that.
Wait, this letter isn't for me, Diluc thinks. But he continues reading anyway, since Varka is already gone. Hearing his father's voice, even though it's only in his head, makes him a little emotional.
Goodness, how the years have swept by... I remember when we were much younger and you had told me your dream once of becoming the next Grand Master.
I had laughed then, not because I didn't believe you could do it, but because I knew you would.
Do you remember asking me what my dream was in return? And I had said I wanted to fight alongside you? Well, since we both know that dream won't happen, I'd like to make a request. My eight year old son, Diluc, has taken a special interest in the knights. Perhaps it's a chance for him to do what I couldn't.
I'm not asking for any favors, because he's still quite young, but if you could steer me in the direction of anyone who could train Diluc formally, that would be greatly appreciated. And it would mean the world to him.
With gratitude,
Crepus Ragnvindr
It feels strange, reading letters not meant for him. But Diluc notices there's another letter behind the one he's just read, with a more recent date.
Dear Grand Master Varka,
It seems I've grown more accustomed to addressing you properly, as it should be. It's also been ages since we've had a proper drink together. I hope you're not overworking yourself.
Please accept my humble gratitude for promoting Diluc to Cavalry Captain. I know this isn't based on our friendship, but rather, Diluc's character and work ethic. I know he's been eager and tends to be hard on himself, wanting to live up to my expectations. I sometimes worry that my dreams have put too much pressure on him. But honestly? I've always been proud of him. I try to tell him this, but he just shrugs it off. He spends so much time with you and the Knights, that I'm afraid you'll start to know him better than me. Maybe one day, you can show me how to convince him.
Anyway, stop by the tavern sometime. Don’t be a stranger.
Your friend,
Crepus Ragnvindr
Diluc can hardly see past the tears in his eyes. He wipes them away before rolling the scroll carefully, placing it in his coat pocket. He dwells on his father's words again, finally seeing that he's spent his whole life trying to please his father, never quite knowing whether he'd measure up— only to realize that his father had always been proud of him.
It feels as though a weight has finally been lifted off of his shoulders, one that he'd forgotten about because he'd been carrying it for far too long. A warmth settles in his chest, quieting the hollow he's felt ever since that day.
Alright, Father. I believe you now.