𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 ; diluc ragnvindr

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ; of books and wine

DILUC RAGNVINDR SIMPLY COULD NOT BELIEVE IT.

Her; cool, calm, beautiful her; her, only-seen-once her; her.

The only Her he knew sat in front of him, a glass of wine cradled in her hands; her fingers nimble on the glass as she tapped a tuneless rhythm. He turned away from her, his fingers working busily at the drinks before him, attempting to take his mind off something, anything, as the trickle of grape wafted into his nose and dived into his glass.

"Are you sure you don't need that cleaned up?" Said the amused voice behind him. He turned momentarily, catching sight of the soft lines of her face; she was gesturing to the shards of glass adorning the floor happily from when he'd dropped it, staring at the shards that had settled down with those eyes so blue. "Someone could get hurt."

"It's fine." He waved it off. "I'll clean it up later."

She shrugged. "If you say so."

There was, he thought, something of an awkward silence. His hands worked leisurely but his mind seemed absolutely blank of any plans he usually had.

"So," She continued, "If I'm not wrong, you're either Master Diluc or Charles."

"Do I look like a Charles?"

"You're Master Diluc, then." She laughed. "To tell the truth- no, you don't look like a Charles at all. More like a..." Sipping at her wine glass again- so that was why her cheeks were tinged pink with delight, or maybe that was the cold. It was somewhat endearing. "A...Richard."

He looked up. "What?"

"Never mind." She smiled, more to herself, and touched her fingers to her head briefly, leaning onto the table. "I'm a little drunk, I think. Just a habit; ignore it."

He scoffed. "You shouldn't be-"

"-drinking that much?" Her cheeks were definitely pink. Was she shivering? "Drinking is one of the greatest joys of life, along with music, poetry, and love. You really don't think I would inflict so much pain on myself?"

Definitely tipsy, he thought. Not drunk to the point of Kaeya, but a little tipsy. She had to be lucky he was here, and no one else; there were many people he could think of who would take advantage of such a situation, because a few hours earlier and she would have suffered worse.

"You're drunk."

"Only a little." She laughed. "I heard what you said, though. I never forget anything I hear when I'm drunk."

The Great Diluc. Whom, without people knowing, was secretly the Darknight Hero. He could not be nervous- he was never nervous, even when fighting-

"I'm glad for that."

"Well, I like this place quite a lot." She leaned forwards. Her hair was silvery white, the color of white iron, and the moon lit her face at an angle too much. "It's yours, I suppose- your friend out there told me about Master Diluc and his huge wine industry. The biggest in Mondstadt!"

Beautiful. That was right. He had not thought, much less used, that word in forever. Not since his father had passed, obviously, and maybe much, much more than that.

"Employee." He corrected.

"Pardon?"

"Employee. Not friend."

"Same thing." She waved his irritation away. He was picking at her words; he did not quite know why. A habit? "I tried your dandelion wine; it was beautiful. I could write poetry based on that alone."

"Interesting."

You're interesting. He shook the thought away, instead nodding towards the pen she mindlessly flipped in her hand; it seemed to be some kind of habit, as well as the piece of parchment rolled up in the folds of her sundress. "I assume you're a Bard, then?"