Chapter Text
The frigid air of the mountain of Dragonspine burns the back of your throat as you inhale, and exhaling over your hands provides you next to no warmth as the sheer cold steadily accumulates. You’ve been wandering around Dragonspine aimlessly for hours after straying from the path you were supposed to stay on. The dreadful commission that brings you up on this hellscape of a mountain will remain incomplete if you can’t get your bearings soon.
No wonder the past five adventurers who took this commission were unsuccessful, you think to yourself. It’s not that it’s an impossible task to complete, it’s that this stupid mountain is impossible to scale. With the cold making you agitated, and your lack of extra layers exacerbating the issues at hand, Flora’s commission gets pushed to the back of your mind as you focus on finding any landmarks nearby. In between following miscellaneous paths in the snow and seeking out the nearest heat source, your footsteps got muddled. If you could see over the sky-high trees and endless ice and rock, maybe you could figure out if you’d be exiting Dragonspine in Liyue, Mondstadt, or even the ocean.
Your capabilities as an adventurer were unfortunately being put to the test. The frosted hilichurls were no match for you whenever you crossed paths, nor the treasure hoarders lurking around the entrance of the mountain, but alas, your true nemesis was being directionally challenged. One of Flora’s boxes of flowers was buried beneath the Statue of the Seven, and another near an entrance to the cavern that really sparked your trademarked Adventurer’s Curiosity, but alas, exploring the secrets of the mountain must be left for a day when you can find your way, you remind yourself.
Resigning yourself to abandoning your beloved nearest heat source, a small fire that had been surrounded by a group of hilichurls about ten minutes prior (emphasis on had), you climb the nearest, tallest tree and use it to launch yourself onto a divot in the rock, and climb up as high as you possibly can.
Though your hands are practically numb, you stand, bracing yourself against the wind as you look as far down the slope of the mountain as possible. You realize with exasperation that you’re closer to the peak of the mountain than the bottom, and the only clear way down seems to be ridden with Fatui camps, but hey, at least there’s a path.
Maybe around there would be a good place to bury the last box of flowers that Flora gave me, you ponder, and slide down the slope of rock, ready to embark on your new, perilous path.
You keep your weapon close, but not drawn, just in case the Fatui happen to be in an ask-questions-first-attack-later kind of mood. Perhaps the gods will smile down on you today, on account of all of your hardships already, and make the last leg of your journey easier. You begin to fantasize about returning to Floral Whisper, getting your commission money for the day, and then curling up in bed with a hot meal and an even hotter cup of tea - maybe even the fancy brew that Lisa gifted you the other week after you helped her track down that lost book.
You snap out of your daydreaming as you approach the first Fatui tent, steeling yourself to bargain or fight, you realize with a start that it’s quiet… too quiet. Stepping closer, afraid of an ambush, you ascertain that the soldiers at the camps are knocked out (or deceased, but you have hope in your heart). Multiple tents around you are littered with scorch marks, and there are documents scattered across the ground, but next to those documents are some of their rations, and next to said rations is a cooking pot with a blazing fire, still lit, and maybe that hot meal you were fantasizing about is closer than you think. Your stomach grumbles. You need no further convincing.
Recalling the recipe for goulash that Harris gave you at the camp at the base of the mountain, you see that all the ingredients are here: some meat that looks extra frozen, a couple carrots, and a few tomatoes. The water you brought with you is still unfrozen in your backpack, and it’ll make a good enough broth with everything else you can gather.. Kneeling next to the pot and grabbing your weapon, you hastily chop up the ingredients and throw them carelessly into the pot, along with some water. While your vegetables and frozen meat simmer, you close your eyes and enjoy the warmth that the fire provides. Before you can fully relax, you hear footsteps coming from behind you, and fast. Your eyes shoot open and you grip your weapon, still wet with juice from the last tomato you sliced, and whip your body around, holding your weapon at the intruder.
“Oh,” your intruder remarks, mildly surprised.
Bright vermillion hair and eyes that blaze like the fire in front of you greet you. It’s a sight you, and everyone else in the city, know all too well.
“Master Diluc,” you greet, lowering your weapon sheepishly.
He clears his throat. “My apologies for sneaking up on you. I thought you were…” he trails off, gesturing vaguely to the Fatui scattered around you.
“As did I,” you shrug, sitting back down. Then you perk up again, realizing something. “Does that mean that this is… your handiwork?” You turn around to look at him, failing to hide your astonishment. You knew Master Diluc was a good fighter, obviously, on account of him being the previous cavalry captain however many years ago, but you failed to realize that he still used his skills with such… vigor.
He nods, not saying any more, and a loud crackle from the fire brings your almost-overcooked goulash back to your attention. You sigh in relief, taking the pot off of the fire just in time. Master Diluc lingers awkwardly behind you, and you suddenly remember your manners regarding the richest man in Mond.
“Would you like some?” You gesture to the goulash, holding up a spare spoon you found in one of the Fatui supply crates.
Though his body runs hot on account of his pyro vision, he nods after a moment, taking the spoon and sitting close enough to you that you can feel the heat radiating off of him.
The two of you begin eating your goulash in relative silence, before a question overtakes you, due to your left side, the side he’s sitting on, being warmer than the other, despite him being a solid two feet away at least.
“Are pyro vision users always this hot?” you inquire, unaware of your phrasing.
Master Diluc nearly chokes on the goulash, feeling heat rise to his face. You, on the other hand, feel your left side get even warmer. “I beg your pardon?” he asks in an attempt to get clarification.
You leisurely finish chewing before answering: “It’s like I’m sitting next to two fires.” He continues to stare, clearly still confused. It’s quite blatant, and as amusing as it is, you elaborate further. “Dragonspine is freezing, and you radiate heat.”
“Oh,” he remarks, for the second time this afternoon, choosing to take another spoonful of the stew in lieu of saying anything. The goulash, and perhaps the person next to you as well, does more to warm your body than any fire or mysterious heat pillar that covers the mountain, and you feel a tinge of delight at being able to share the dish with another lost soul on this treacherous land. Though, all things considered, Master Diluc didn’t seem very lost at all.
You both spend longer than you probably should eating, and the limited light begins to fade considerably, the heights of the mountain darkening the view further. Thankfully, now that you’ve found your bearings, you only have one more box to bury and then you’re home free. Maybe, you think, Master Diluc can accompany me so I can leach off of his body heat so I don’t die from sheer cold.
“Master Diluc, I’d hate to ask but-”
“If you’re finished here, would you mind if I-”
The two of you begin speaking at the same time. You laugh, and gesture at him. “Sorry, you first.”
He clears his throat. “Would you mind if I accompany you down the mountain? If you’re finished here and heading that way, of course.”
“I am!” you reply a little too quickly for your liking. “Well, I’m almost done. I just have one more box of flowers to bury, which I plan to do by that lake over there,” you wave a hand towards the icy body of water not-so-far away, “and then I’ll be taking my leave from this dreadful place.” Was that last part a bit dramatic? Yes, but you think you’re well within your right to call this mountain dreadful after getting lost five times even with a map. All wonder and awe regarding the mysterious range disappeared about thirty minutes in, and that was a generous estimate.
“Have you not been to Dragonspine before?” Master Diluc inquires, curious as to how an adventurer would even get a commission this dangerous if they’d never set foot on the mountain before.
You refrain from making eye contact as you sheepishly admit: “I have, actually. Twice. The first time I just went to the Statue of the Seven and back, and the second time was from the Liyue side of the border because there was a Ley Line disturbance that the Millileth couldn’t take care of that got outsourced to adventurers. I’ve never had to go this far in before, though, and I spent half of the day trying to get my bearings and all it did was get colder.” As though proving your point, a gust of wind seems to blow right through you, making you shiver.
Master Diluc is silent for a moment, and you presume he’s silently judging your lack of preparedness despite knowing the terrain (he is. Just a little bit, though.), before he shrugs off his heavy jacket.
“Wait, why would you-” you begin, before feeling the fur lining of said coat being placed over your shoulders.
When you stand stiff as a board, he stares at you. “Put your arms through.” His tone leaves no room for argument, though you try anyway.
“But you’ll be cold,” you protest, attempting to shrug off the luscious warmth clinging to your shoulders like a heated blanket.
“I’m warm enough. You should’ve worn more layers,” he critiques in a low voice, closing the jacket in front of you when you finally slip your arms through. Even his hands radiate heat through his gloves, you note.
“I’m wearing a cardigan,” you mutter indignantly, and a corner of Master Diluc’s mouth lifts up.
“Oh wow, really? A cardigan. In Dragonspine. How warm you must be,” he deadpans, causing you to bark out a laugh and roll your eyes.
“How could this be? The dignified Master Diluc, most eligible bachelor, richest man in Teyvat, most wanted grandson in all of Mondstadt, is making fun of me? An innocent adventurer? If only the grandparents of Mond could see you now.” You dramatically shake your head in mock disappointment. He chuckles, and the sound surprises you, but makes you feel even warmer all the same.
“How terribly awful of me. I’m certain the elderly of Mondstadt, half of whose pensions I pay, will have some choice words for me.” He reaches forward, closing another buckle on his jacket. He doesn’t linger, but his warmth does all the same. “We should get going now.”
You nod, slipping your hands into the pockets of his coat (because of course you weren’t wearing proper gloves either. Seriously, winter clothing is expensive! An adventurer’s salary isn’t that great.) and begin walking side by side towards the lake.
“I must ask, how do you plan to bury the flowers…” Master Diluc trails off, seeing you kneel down in the snow at the bank of the lake and begin digging using your bare hands. He stares at you in silence for what feels like the twentieth time this hour, and you can feel the judgement radiating from him, or maybe that’s just his body heat.
“Not affording a coat, I can understand, but you don’t even have a shovel?” His tone and words are blunt, but you don’t pay them any mind, focused on digging into the tough snow as fast as possible before your hands freeze.
“I forgot to ask, and it turns out a weapon isn’t suited for digging.” You pat the snow on top of the box, and stick a small piece of wood with fabric at the top next to it to mark its place. Master Diluc’s gaze travels from your ill-suited apparel to the well-maintained weapon hanging at your back.
The moment you stand up, instead of beginning your journey to a warmer land, Master Diluc encapsulates your hands in his. You tilt your head at him quizzically, before his already-warm grip grows hotter. You almost yank your hands away from him out of shock, before you realize that he’s using his vision to warm your hands.
“Perhaps you should invest in gloves with the same devotion you maintain your weapon with.”
“Well I hardly have rich person money, Mr. Wine Tycoon, but your opinion is duly noted.” He locks eyes with you, and for a moment, you can’t look away. When he averts his gaze and pulls away, gently dropping your hands, you feel oddly disappointed. Resisting the urge to shake the feeling off, lest you look weird, the two of you begin your trek down the mountain as the sun sets.
By the time you reach the Snow-Covered Path, it feels like you’ve been walking forever. The cold shadows of Dragonspine made it feel like the sun was setting far sooner than it was, because now that you aren’t trapped within towering trees and rock, the sun is just dipping below the horizon. It’s an easy trek to the camp at the base, minus the broken bridge that you have to jump across, and the two of you end at a crossroad.
The Dawn Winery is in one direction, and the city of Mondstadt is in the other. “Thank you for your assistance, Master Diluc,” you start as you take off his coat. “I really appreciate it.” Though Mondstadt is much warmer than the mountain, you mourn the lack of warmth as you hand it over.
“Anytime,” he nods, looking in the direction you’re about to head in. “Would you like me to walk you back?” He offers, surprising you yet again today.
“I think I can handle it.” You gesture to your weapon, and begin to turn around. This slightly awkward parting of acquaintances makes you cringe, despite all of the conversation and banter you shared on the mountain. “I’ll see you around?” You offer, turning your head back to look at him.
“You will. Have a good evening,” Master Diluc bids you adieu, seemingly waiting for you to start walking before he starts his own trek to the winery.
“You as well.” You smile, and begin yet another journey; at least this time, you’re heading home (after you get the commission money, that is).