Chapter Text
WINTER
The snow was so cold… something was terribly indiscriminate and heartless about its chill as the warmth bled out with the rest of him onto the cobbles. His vision was growing into a steady vignette now, only enough to watch those electro infused hydro blades get banished. No pause stunted those steps as they confidently strode away, boots flecked in blood that could have been anyone’s making prints in the snow.
As everything went black, Diluc wasn’t even sure if Tartaglia made the effort to even look over his shoulder .
~
SUMMER, THREE YEARS LATER
Ever since the Traveller had made their presence known in Mondstadt, there had been all sorts of motley crews show up to Angel’s share, forcing the esteemed and previously mysterious Diluc out of his general rule of isolation to keep tabs on some of the more eccentric figures. The man could previously be seen dealing alcohol once every fortnight or on rare occasions, but now was more often than not sighted behind the mahogany bar reluctantly pouring out alcohol of all sorts.
It wasn’t an exception when the door to Angel’s Share was opened to reveal an infamous head of ginger hair. Blonde streaks glinted in the candlelight, framing a pair of blue eyes that erratically darted around the room to eventually land on the scowling face that belonged to none other than Diluc Ragnvindr.
Up until this point, it had been a quiet evening; the usual company that came in the shape of the ever sweet-talking Calvary Captain and the less than holy ‘nun’ were absent, leaving Diluc to mindlessly listen in on the here-say and gossip from the slacking knights and adventurer’s guild members. Kaeya would likely entertain himself later on in the evening, leaving hours of no activity or significant intrigue until then.
And that was how it was until the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger waltzed through the door. The delight etched onto his face was enough to make Diluc sick to his stomach. A smile that screamed his ecstasy at the confirmation that his kill order had been so clearly unsuccessful sat plastered on a freckled face. The man had aged in the three odd years the two hadn’t seen each other, portrait sharper and more defined after losing the baby fat around his cheeks. Even so, there was a boyish look still present in his tilted grin. Thankfully the other patrons hadn’t realised the status the ginger commanded, the harbinger uniform mercifully absent aside for the maroon blouse.
“One shot of fire water, if you may.” Tartaglia sat at one of the bar stools, his voice wavering and barely able to keep out the buzzing excitement. Every second that dragged on made the pressure behind Diluc’s eyes increase tenfold, thoughts and questions as to why were flooding through his mind at an incomprehensible speed.
However, to not cause any alarm, he wordlessly slammed a shot down of the Sneznhayan filth in front of the man.
“I don’t suppose you’ve poisoned this?” Tartaglia frowned, eyeing the small glass. He still had the accent Diluc always remembered (if not a little milder), the lilting way of speech dragging on his nerves even more.
“No.” Archons, how he wanted to. He couldn’t give the man the satisfaction of a conversation, so instead Diluc turned away to clean the already pristine glasses. When Kaeya made himself known again, Diluc was going to have a stern word with him about how he had been completely and totally blindsided by the Harbinger’s appearance. It was down to the constant inefficiency of the Knights that public notice hadn’t been put out about the arrival of one of Snezhnaya’s most esteemed diplomats.
“Come on Diluc, don’t be like this.” Tartaglia practically whined, leaning forward on his elbows as the fellow redhead turned around, trying to prevent his eye from visibly twitching with rage.
“I have no obligation to humour you.” He said bluntly before pivoting again so that the pleading blue eyes were out of sight.
“You know what I did back then was an order, right? You’re just being petty if you’re still hung up about that.” Tartaglia’s voice was lower now, not as loud as the last times he’d spoken - he didn’t want the other people in the bar to overhear this either - a sign that he likely wasn’t supposed to be here. The plain clothes also gave the impression that while he might have some purpose here, it probably wasn’t in this bar.
“This isn’t-“ Diluc started, but forcefully stopped himself before his feelings on the matter could escape him. He couldn’t let his composure crack, not in front of the harbinger and especially not in front of any unsuspecting patrons. “I don’t see what your aim is here. Why are you in Mondstadt?”
“Would it be so strange if it was because I wanted to see you alive?” Tartaglia fiddled with the glass, glancing up through his fringe to meet Diluc’s displeased gaze, blinking innocently.
“The Fatui don’t do anything without an ulterior motive. Try again.” Diluc dismissed, though clearly this just fired up the ginger more as his grin grew
“Aww. You know, if you want to know so badly, you could always fight me.”
“Not a chance.” He could see it coming from a mile away. While Tartaglia seemed to have managed to leash himself somewhat compared to previous years, the restless energy still poured off him, the vibrations of his leg tapping on the bar stool able to be felt through the ground. He hadn’t changed at all.
“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.” Tartaglia sounded genuinely upset at the notion of it, eyebrows pulling upwards in an overly dramatic display of emotion. That gaze sized him up, analysing whatever aspects of his body Diluc had on display through the smartly ironed waistcoat and the crisp suit. Of course his main area of focus was the glowing red vision chained to Diluc’s belt.
Diluc didn’t care to answer that, simply shrugging his shoulders somewhat and returning to refilling the drinks of other customers. Let him be upset. Let him genuinely believe that Diluc Ragnvindr was indeed burnt out of that ambition and conviction and replaced with this civilised and gracious man.
“Your vision - the gods have recognised your ambition, haven't they? You didn’t have that in Snezhnaya.” It was clear he was trying to grasp at anything that would make this untrue. Diluc would delight in stamping it out
“I left it in Mondstadt during my time away. I’ve always had this.” The best lies were shrouded in truth. While this was much more Kaeya’s game (one that the redhead typically despised), Diluc occasionally had to join himself. For situations like these, it became his greatest asset.
It took a few seconds for it to truly sink in for the ginger, who looked lost and confused at the mere idea that the previous uncontrollable wildfire of an individual had simmered down to nothing but a few embers. He wore the disappointment so clearly on his face at the apparent reveal that the person who he had chased and fought for so long in that frozen wasteland of a country had been tethered down so openly and fully.
“Cat caught your tongue?” Diluc could barely keep the smug inflection out of his tone at seeing the despair painted on the harbinger’s face. However it faltered slightly when Tartaglia’s agape frown twisted into a grin.
“Haha! No, not at all. Hahaha, I’m just laughing at the idea of you becoming so domesticated! What happened to you? What happened to that flame, huh?”
It was so clear Tartaglia still yearned for someone to understand his warped idea of purpose and power. Knew that back then, that chase they’d entertained over all of those months had been an unspoken pact of their equality and strange mutual agreement. From a time before the delusion was bestowed upon him and before that mask had been pinned to the side of his hair like some bloodied crown. Purely because of those latter two facts, he felt no guilt whatsoever lying so blatantly to the man’s face
“It was smothered and left to die in the ice and snow.” Diluc replied, shifting his shoulders and feeling the signature twinge from the scars carved out of his back by those hydro blades.
Tartaglia’s mouth opened then closed again, brows eventually furrowing. “Fine. If that’s how it is, I’ll be off then.” A few coins were placed on the bar, voice cold and dismissive. “I have other people to entertain.”
The man left without waiting for Diluc’s reply. He’d barely been there for ten minutes when the door shut behind him with those previously dancing footsteps heavier and dragging at the disappointment of this outing.
Obviously, he had little idea or clue that the current facade of Diluc Ragnvindr was nothing but a public visage to keep the masses placated. And Diluc intended for it to remain that way.
The next evening the ever popular Cavalry Captain stepped into Angel’s Share (as he did more than often) and greeted the drunken knights and adventurers with that charming grin followed by the usual honeyed words. Of course, neither of those things would work on Diluc, who stood stony faced behind the bar as he watched this performance, an already sour mood becoming even more so as Kaeya draped himself over the bar stool Tartaglia had situated himself in the night previous.
Cutting the pretences before the other could get in any more words, Diluc placed the usual Death After Noon on the bar and started
“Why didn’t you care to inform me that there was a Fatui Harbinger in Mondstadt?” It was worded like a question but spoken much more like a demand. Much like how none of Kaeya’s tricks worked on Diluc, it functioned vice versa, the man just letting out a low chuckle at the harsh words
“I couldn’t possibly ruin the fun for you Diluc. I’m going to assume you got quite a surprise if you thought this was so pressing to bring it up here” Kaeya traced the rim of the mug, swirling the blood-red contents inside.
“There’s nothing ‘fun’ about a potential threat to Mondstadt running around unchecked and unregulated.” Diluc said, crossing his arms.
“Hah, after the Fatui’s previous incursions, saying he’s ‘unchecked’ is a reach.” Kaeya barked a sharp laugh. Then threw in another few chuckles for good measure at the now painfully clear irony of Diluc’s words. “Doubting the knights as always.”
“Then what is he up to?” Diluc asked incredulously, half expecting to receive the usual half truths until Kaeya sighed.
“From the reports we’ve received, this is a courtesy call. Nothing of note, sadly. Meer lip service to make up for the loss of their beloved Eighth Harbinger” He took a long sip from the glass after that. Whenever he did, it usually covered up some other expression he couldn’t so easily mask.
“You don’t seriously believe that.” Diluc deadpanned. Kaeya just laughed again
“Our dear Alchemist has reported a number of his more confidential notes have gone missing, which is a rather strangely timed coincidence, no? Ah, but alas, it’s not in my job description to question such things now, is it, Master Diluc? I’m just like the rest of those knights you cuss out so frequently… How I wish someone like the Dark Night Hero would swoop in and investigate for us.” He put his face in his palm to create a sense of feigned naivety. The brief flicker of that star-pupiled eye and the twitch of a grin was enough to get across everything the wine tycoon needed to know.
“Indeed.” Diluc got out through gritted teeth. While Kaeya’s baiting was infinitely grating, he had a solid point. Given the shady nature of the Fatui’s dealings, going out and doing any sort of reconnaissance as a Knight of Favonius wouldn’t be possible… however if a certain outside party took control of it… While the estranged brothers largely didn’t see eye to eye, it was difficult to deny that the two of them utilised their respective assets to each other’s benefit well.
Even so, it was risky. If Tartaglia were to determine Diluc to be a sufficient enough threat upon discovering him to still be actively plotting against the Fatui, the Harbinger would likely have no issue eliminating the redhead once and for all and finishing the job from those years ago. It would have to be entirely covert with no attention drawn to him.
It was safe to say that Diluc had his work cut out for him.