Chapter Text
For the third time that week, Diluc found his ink-dipped quill hovering over a sheet of paper to write to the traveler. It was silly, honestly; he’d only just heard of her accomplishments in Natlan, and it was unreasonable to expect her to wonder what the uninteresting owner of Dawn Winery had been up to. Still, his birthday was coming up, and he really did want to invite Lumine for dinner--really, really, he did--at the Winery. The answer would likely be no, but…well, it would be nice to see her again. Anyways, Diluc had developed a new line of non-alcoholic beverages, and he needed a taster. Who better than the esteemed, epoch-making traveler? His thoughts drifted to the times she came to Angel’s Share while he worked the bar, her head resting on the bar table, tired from hours of commissions and generally participating in highly virtuous acts. Diluc would slide a glass of Wolfhook juice across the table, always mixed with extra puree, because she liked it sweeter…..
The first time Diluc saw Lumine, he was taken aback. Her clothing resembled nothing he’d ever seen before in all his travels; the colors and accents were foreign to him. Given this, it wasn’t a surprise that she hailed from another world, though Diluc was intrigued that outlanders looked so much like humans in Teyvat. But it was her eyes and hair that lingered in his thoughts. They reminded him of the stars he once gazed at, bloodied from battle, on the snowy expanses of Snezhnaya. He’d memorized several constellations back then, not that he believed in astrology (though Mona’s confidence in her abilities was admirable), but his young naiveté begged him to seek comfort in something. And so when he stared up at the sky during the nights he could hardly put one foot in front of the other, the nights he’d seen the results of Dottore’s child experimentation, it felt like maybe there was something watching over him.
Maybe Kaeya could see that at least one of Crepus’ sons was willing to bring him justice. Maybe his father could see the results of his vengeance. If he closed his eyes and the wind struck his ears just right, maybe he’d hear the words “That’s my son” one more time. For a second, looking into her golden orbs brought him that same solace.
The traveler, accompanied by the flying thing called Paimon, exhibited a lot of patience and grace for the number of people asking her to do things. Especially with Paimon screeching in her ear. She’d usually agree to doing the silliest of commissions, though he’d picked up on the rumors that she’d gotten so frustrated that she’d screamed at a civilian before. Honestly, this wasn’t surprising, and may have elicited a chuckle out of him. I mean, really, being stranded in a new world with new people begging for their “Honarary Knight!” to save them when all she truly wanted was her family back. Oh, he tried ignore the nickname “Honarary Knight”, a truly disgraceful title to place upon an honorable woman. Because of her situation, Diluc made it a point to take some weight off her shoulders; after all, she had helped Mondstat tremendously, despite having no obligation to do so.
Anyhow, sometimes this meant drinks on the house, or asking Adelinde to deliver an extra meal to Lumine via Sara. He’d also commissioned a few of his staff to help hang up countless copies of her brother’s missing poster all over Mondstat. Seeing her dedication to her sibling was inspiring, but also stirred up a sort of envy, a sadness, a burning that truly irked Diluc. The feeling felt gross, but despite it, he found himself spilling the truth of his and Kaeya’s relationship when Lumine prompted him to.
“You two seem to care about each other, though.” As they sat outside the Winery, Lumine’s face rested on the palm of her hand. She said the words so casually, as if she didn’t notice (or perhaps ignored) the effect it had on Diluc.
“I mean, I’m….well, he…ah, perhaps I’ve said too much. You can forget this, I’d not want to burden you with my problems.” Diluc hoped the conversation would end -- the burning feeling was coming back, heating up his cheeks. Embarrassment -- not a emotion he had felt in a long time.
“No, no. You aren’t burdening me. But really, haven’t you noticed Kaeya only comes to Angel’s Share when you’re bartending? And he talks about you a lot. I just..I know you didn’t ask for my advice, but I think you guys should talk it out. I know what it’s like to lose a brother. I’d do anything, anything, to have him back. But to think that you two are like this when you’re so close to each other,” she sighed, and Diluc felt a hint of guilt creeping into him, “..I’m sorry. I think I’m just jealous. Of you, Kaeya, Jean, and Barbara.”
She looked so defeated, so exhausted, and Diluc momentarily forgot he was speaking to the Honorary Knight, the outlander who helped slay Dvalin. Despite her ethereal appearance, Lumine was just a person who didn’t have enough meaningful interactions with people who truly cared about her to compensate for everything she gave up for them. In a way, he saw himself in her. Ever since the night his father was taken from him, he had walked a path of shadows -- alone, relentless, consumed by duty. But now, looking at her, it no longer seemed like weakness to reach out. As the night breeze whispered between them like Barbatos himself was singing, the thought no longer seemed so far-fetched, nor so uninviting.
He paused before responding. “..I didn’t intend to stir up unpleasant feelings. I understand why you feel that way.”
He showed her the vase Kaeya had stored his vision in during his time in Snezhnaya, sitting polished at the center of his desk. She smiled at it, a knowing smile that felt wise beyond her years, at least the years she appeared to be. Well, Diluc wouldn’t pry a lady about her age. He didn’t have to elaborate anymore on his and Kaeya’s situation. She understood.