Work Text:
If Diona had 100 mora for every time the great “Master Diluc” made her feel violently angry, she’d probably never need to work again. That, of course, was no surprise; it was almost expected of her to growl and mutter vague threats under her breath whenever the so-called Uncrowned King of Mondstadt came up in conversation.
In Diona’s opinion, Diluc Ragnvindr was a scourge on Mond— a disease festering at its very core— that needed to be put in its place lest the City of Freedom be brought to its knees, or something. Or, if not that, he was definitely the source of all her problems. After all, everything in Diona’s life— all the hardships she’d ever faced— seemed to stem from Ragnvindr’s stupid wine.
Take Diona’s father, for instance. When he was sober, he was the most perfect father she could ask for: strong, smart, a great teacher, and very kind. But he’d always put wine first, even when Diona was just a baby and her mother was still around, and he was a completely different man under its influence; he was weak, impulsive, and always had to be taken care of. As much as she loved her father, it frustrated her to no end— he was the parent, and she was the child! It wasn’t supposed to be interchangeable, right?
But well, Diona had always been independent and smart for her age, so it was no big deal. At least, that’s what she always told herself; it was worth it to sacrifice her childhood so that Daddy could drink, because she loved him, and she didn’t want him getting hurt or killed or arrested or any number of other things. It would always be worth it, right?
Still, it got really lonely sometimes. Between her job at the Cat’s Tail and taking care of her drunkard father, Diona had time for little else. The only friends she had were Richard, Nelson, and Paisley, loathe as she was to admit it, and they weren’t even humans, much less humans her age. It was fine, though, really! Diona didn’t even need friends. They would just distract her from her goal to destroy the Mondstadt wine industry, anyway!
… Even so, she couldn’t help but wonder. Sometimes, while she was at work, she caught glimpses of kids no older than herself chasing one-another through the paved streets of Mondstadt or stooping over to pet one of the many cats and dogs that shared the city with the humans, or exchanging whispers while giggling, or— or… or just being kids. It looked fun. But then another customer would order a drink or try to pet her or keel over drunk, and Diona would have to get back to work.
And then she’d have to go home and be greeted by her father passed out in the living room. She’d get a glass of water and set it next to him on a side table, and would cook supper and clean the house and wash the dishes and set a change of clothes on the arm of the sofa for her father and stay up a while longer in case he woke before the alcohol hand fully left his system and finally, finally, after hours of caring for a man who would not even remember enough come morning for him to say “thank you”, she would curl up on her bed and fall into an uneasy slumber. And then she’d wake up the next morning and the cycle would repeat again.
It was almost not worth it. But when things were good and her father was sober, it was like something out of a dream. On days like those, she’d wake up late to the smell of freshly made pancakes— always heart-shaped— and pad into the kitchen, where Daddy’s expression would be apologetic, eyes full of love and sorrow and guilt. He’d ruffle her hair and she’d smile and hug him, and he was always so warm and gentle that she could almost forget all those lonely, lonely nights.
“I asked Margaret to give you today off,” he’d tell her once she asked him about work, “I was thinking that we could spend today hunting together. What do you say?”
He always said the same thing when she asked, and her answer was always yes, but they’d both always still ask the same questions; Diona about work, and Daddy about hunting. Perhaps it was simply comforting for there to be some sort of routine, no matter what kind of day it was.
Tonight, though, Diona seemed to have broken her careful routine. It was late— much later than usual— and she was bawling her eyes out behind the now closed Cat’s Tail. She wasn’t sure why she was crying; after all, nothing out of the ordinary had happened! The tavern had just stayed open a bit later than usual today, and Nimrod had been a little more touchy-feely with her than he normally was, but… but she still didn’t understand why she was crying so hard, or why she felt so tired.
Despite her loud sobbing and even louder emotions, Diona’s sensitive ears still managed to pick up on a noise as it approached her. It sounded like footsteps, quiet and careful, and she felt her entire body freeze as her eyes darted up, searching. It was dark, but the Kätzlein blood in her veins had given her perfect night vision, so—
There. Diona felt her hair stand on end as a tall figure, shrouded in dark clothes, appeared in the shadows. She hissed, baring her teeth at them as she stood, hands instinctively grasping for her bow and nocking an arrow.
“Stay back, or I’ll shoot!” she said, willing Cryo energy to form at the tip of her arrow, “I mean it! I’ll do it, I’m no coward!”
The figure faltered for a moment, before they raised their hands in the international “I-surrender-please-don’t-shoot” gesture, saying, “I’m not here to hurt you, Diona. I was just, ah, doing my nightly patrols when I heard crying. I wanted to make sure nothing serious was happening.”
Diona tensed, the tip of her arrow dropping a little in surprise. The person before her— the Darknight Hero, maybe? — sounded calm, despite her threat. Then she huffed, righting her aim once more, but less afraid this time.
“Do you swear it?” she asked, internally cursing how small her voice sounded. What was she, a child?
There was a pause, and then: “… Yes, I swear.”
“Whatever, I’ll take your word on it. I’m too tired for this,” she sighed, lowering her bow, “But you’re wasting your time. I’m perfectly fine!”
The Darknight Hero— because she was sure of it, now— just nodded, stepping out of the shadows, and came closer anyway. Now that he was in clearer view, Diona could see that he had on a mask and wore all black but that he didn’t seem to have anything else for a disguise. He looked awfully familiar, too.
“Still, it’d be wrong of me to leave someone your age alone at night, fine or not,” he said. “It’s very late. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight? Allow me to escort you there— if not for your safety, then for my own peace of mind.”
As he spoke, the Darknight Hero turned his head to survey the alley, and Diona caught a flash of red hair tied in a low ponytail. Huh, that was… oddly familiar…
…
Ah. It was Diluc Ragnvindr. Of course, it was.
As though a switch had been flipped, Diona felt a surge of white-hot anger course through her veins. The audacity of this man, causing her all these problems and then daring to pretend he cared about her— to… to act as though he was concerned!
“As if I’d tell you, Diluc Ragnvindr! Why do you even want to know?” she hissed, hearing as he took a sharp breath. “I bet it’s so you can scope out my home and buy it, so that you can take all the good that’s left in my life away from me, huh?”
Diona felt fresh tears spring into her eyes as Diluc froze, seeming extremely uncomfortable. Good, let him feel that way.
“It’s all your fault, you know. If it wasn’t for you and your stupid wine, then maybe Daddy wouldn’t drink so much, and then I’d be able to be a kid instead of taking care of him all the time!” she yelled. Then, she froze.
Daddy. He was probably at home, all by himself, with no one around the help him, and here she was, wasting time by yelling at stupid, awful Diluc Ragnvindr.
“Diona—” Diluc began, but she cut him off.
“I don’t- I don’t have time for this. Daddy’s at home right now. I need to get back and help him,” she said, feeling strangely fuzzy in her head. She was shaking. “Daddy needs me.”
Diona tried to walk to the exit of the alleyway, not fully processing anything she saw, smelled, or heard. She had to get home to Springvale, and quickly. Screw Diluc Ragnvindr and his stupid face— she could yell at him some other time. Daddy came first, before anything. Before Diluc Ragnvindr, before Diona’s job at the Cat’s Tail, before Diona—
But she wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t she moving?
“Diona. Diona, hey, you need to breathe,” Diluc said, but his voice was muffled over the sound of her blood rushing in her ears. “In and out. Can- shit- can you do that for me?”
The world was spinning around her, and her chest hurt, and she hated Diluc Ragnvindr almost as much as she hated alcohol, but everything was so scary so she sucked it up and listened as he guided her through the worst thing she’d experienced in her life. It took a while, but eventually she calmed down a little. It left her feeling bone-deep exhaustion. She felt hollow.
Diona stared at Diluc Ragnvindr for a moment. He had removed his mask and was kneeling in front of her (and when had she sat back down?), eyes gentle and expression full of concern. It was odd, seeing that expression directed her way— and by her sworn enemy, of all people. Diona had never had someone worry about her like that before.
“Feel better now?” Diluc asked, and she remembered herself.
“I- I feel fine. Whatever.” She said, but she was too tired to muster any of the biting resentment she usually held towards him. “But I need to get home. Daddy needs me.”
Diluc frowned at her words, and she tensed, ready to lash out despite her exhaustion. Instead of speaking, though, he stood, offering a hand to help her up. She scowled and stood on her own. Then, he spoke again.
“It’s too late for you to be going out to Springvale all on your own. Besides, you’re too tired— don’t give me that look, we both know it,” he said, and Diona’s scowl only deepened. Diluc sighed. “Look— all I’m saying is that I can’t in good conscience take you home while you’re in this state, much less send you out on your own. I’d be failing you as an adult.”
“But Daddy—”
“—is a grown man who can take care of himself for one night. He’ll be fine, Diona. You shouldn’t even have to look after him in the first place— but we can unpack that later,” he said. “Come with me. We have some spare bedrooms above the Angel’s Share. You can stay in one for the night and be on your way come morning if you wish.”
Diona’s head was reeling. Why was Diluc Ragnvindr— her sworn enemy, hello! — offering her a place to stay the night? Why wasn’t he letting her go home? Was he… was he trying to keep her from Daddy? Diona wanted to scream, to lash out and hit Diluc in his stupid dumb terrible face and tell him not to keep her away from her father. She wanted him to hurt like she always hurt.
…
But Diona was tired, and Diluc’s face— stupid and dumb and awful and terrible as it was— still showed nothing but concern, and the offer of a warm bed was seriously tempting, especially compared to an hours-long trek in the dark.
“Fine. Fine, I’ll accept, but don’t try anything funny, Diluc Ragnvindr,” she said, “And you absolutely cannot tell a soul, all right? No one can know that a bartender from the Cat’s Tail stayed in the Angel’s Share, or that I got help from my enemy!”
Diluc’s expression softened as he nodded, gesturing for her to take his hand. “I wouldn’t dream of it. Now, shall we?”
And that was that. It was just one odd night— just one deviation from what was normal— and only the two of them (and that stupid bartender Connor) heard about it, so by all means, it shouldn’t have changed anything.
And for a long while, that would be the case. The next day, Diona would go back home and resume her role as her father’s caretaker, and she would keep working at the Cat’s Tail, and the awful cycle would continue—
But it was different. Now, she knew what it meant to have someone care. Even if it was stupid Diluc Ragnvindr with his dumb mask and even dumber face, he’d cared about her enough to make sure she’d be safe despite her obvious dislike of him. That knowledge alone— that someone like Diluc Ragnvindr, who was a scourge on all of Mond, could care about her— would change her perspective on how her father treated her. It would change how she viewed those good days.
Change wouldn’t come instantly, or all at once. But, just as a single drop of water can cause massive ripples on a still pond, so, too, would that night change Diona’s life for the better. Besides, Diluc Ragnvindr wasn’t one to witness suffering and then stay silent, allowing it to continue. Change would come.
It was only a matter of time.