𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 ; diluc ragnvindr

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 ; of breakfast and questions

THE LEAST SHE COULD DO, WHEN STAYING HERE, WAS ACTUALLY ENJOY HERSELF.

Of course she was here for a reason, but that did not mean she could not enjoy herself. Mondstadt was a beautiful city and she had every intention of stealing its beauty away to write it away, within the letters of her words where she would take the very essence of its life.

And it started from traveling. What did not? The foods, the music, the people, the writing.

Her first course had been the library: reading up on literature of the city, as well as Mondstadt itself. She was staying here for a long time- it didn't matter, anyways, how long she read- and so she stacked up on a pile of books and read the whole day. A flirtatious woman, somewhat intimidating for a librarian, had greeted her there, happily leading her towards anything and everything she had needed with a single warning glance (face my wrath) and she'd read up on nearly everything about Mondstadt: including its long history, its native animals, the people and their customs, and its patron Anemo god. There had been a few new fantasy novels on Stormterror (or Dvalin, they called him) and she read up on those, too, because entertainment values were important.

Then after she'd borrowed a few more and had released herself from the library in the late afternoon, she'd gone to the Cat's Tail: the rival tavern, she'd heard. The wine was good there, but it seemed like nothing compared to the Dandelion Wine... and the people there were not even half as intriguing as the man she'd met the night before the last: now he was interesting. Like one of the condemned princes in fantasy novels.

Unfortunately her business for Mondstadt hadn't been there either, so she'd just had a lingering dinner of honey-roasted fowl (which had been good; she really did love food after all) and had gone straight to bed. Of course, not before several glasses of wine.

What could she say? Helena Saturnalius had picked up the worst of habits from her friend.

And so she awoke the next day with a slight headache and a silver of added knowledge in her head. Today felt like any other days, save for the fact that she had- after all her effort- failed to stop thinking about the words of that particular tall-dark-and-handsome stranger. Be my muse, he'd said, and for reasons she knew perfectly why, those words echoed in her head.

After all, those were the words that had shaped the start of years upon years of pain and joy.

Not only that, however, but even though she had been slightly tipsy- and as a result, had performed some... questionable actions- she felt the strangest inclination to agree with that man and find him, to go up to him and say, of course I'll be your muse.

No, no. Of course not.

She was here to enjoy herself, more so than any other matters that may have pressed her down.

So in fact, it was to her utmost surprise when she made her way down the steps with her hair freshly dry and down in a pale cascade her back, dressed in a fresh set of clothes and ready for another day of adventure, only to see the very same stranger she'd been thinking about leaning against the counter, looking somewhat drowsy.

"I-"

What had been his name again? Something with a D. A good name for a superhero, that's what she'd thought. Most of the characters in her books and poems and novels were based off of real people, and he had a name that she wanted to use sometime.

A unique name, she thought. Just like his.

"Dil- Master Diluc!"

He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment, before turning to her with what seemed like an absolutely emotionless stare; but as he took her in, his eyes seemed to soften.