Chapter Text
You had always imagined yourself to be married to someone you loved, someone you trusted and felt you could share everything with—that dream didn’t feel out of reach, as you grew up in Mondstat, the city of freedom.
But for some reason, you found yourself at a wedding where you were the bride, and your soon-to-be husband was… A Fatui harbinger. Tartaglia(code name: Childe), to be specific, the eleventh among the ranks. How did you end up in this position? As the priest announced the vows, you can recall your father speaking to you a few months prior to this, how he told you that (due to his own selfishness) he was throwing you into the hands of the Fatui as a trade off in order to gain closer ties to the organization. As a businessman, if you were right with the Fatui, you had Teyvat practically in the palm of your hand.
You blinked out of your thoughts as Childe said “I do.” Your eyes staring blankly into his own dull ones, he seemed rather pleased, a smile on his face. You were sure it was to keep appearances though, but you did hear from your father that Childe’s parents had been wanting him to get married for a long time now—so naturally, he was probably happy to please his parents.
“Now do you, take Tartaglia, to be your lawfully wedded husband, for as long as you both shall live?” As the priest said those words, a sudden pit started to form in your stomach, an uncomfortable churn making you tense up.
Absent-mindedly, you spoke. “I do..”
“Then, in the name of the Tsaritsa, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
You remained tense, and Tartaglia could sense that, so instead of a passionate loving kiss that would be done at a regular wedding, Tartaglia simply leaned down and you both gave each other a peck on the lips. Everyone in the cathedral cheered and whooped, and as you turned to face where your family was sitting, more existential dread cameover you.
That was so long ago now…
You and Tartaglia had now been married for 2 or so years, and for those 2 years you had been living in Snezhnaya with Tartaglia. The days were always cold, so you spent most of the time inside, far too used to the warmer climate of Mondstat. Snezhnaya felt like anything but home, even if you lived in a lavish mansion with everything you could possibly need handed to you on a silver platter, there was something still… Missing.
Though you and Tartaglia had been married for so long now, there was no romance. Tartaglia was often away, but every now and then he’d try and fail to really capture your attention, all you saw of him was his cocky persona that often was present. You didn’t like that he behaved that way, oftentimes it got on your nerves.
You were indifferent towards him, and Tartaglia understood why. You didn’t ask to marry him, after all. He tried to make an effort to win your favor, but it was all done in vain.
Tartaglia never stopped trying though. Giving up wasn’t in his nature.
.
.
.
You and Tartaglia sat side by side at a dinner table beside many other nobles. Your father was there too, to celebrate a Fatuus accomplishment. Tartaglia’s parents—especially his father—were not fans of associating with the Fatui beyond the wedding. You picked at your food, bored with the dinner, already dreading the impending after party that would ensue later. Childe tapped his index finger on the table, noticing your disinterest in the dinner. He had to find a way to entertain himself, and hopefully gain your attention.
A smirk tugged at his lips when he noticed a few other party guests starting to dance with one another, he leaned over towards you and gently touched the hand you were using to move your fork around your food. You looked up at him confusedly, and he opened his mouth to talk,
“Everyone seems to be getting up,” He murmured, gesturing to the dancers, but at your skeptical glare he turned red, “I—well, we don’t have to follow them,” he began to trip on his words, for some reason you were the only person able to fluster him.
He continued, or at least tried to, but your eyes were slowly moving over toward a figure. “Hold that thought…” you said, your hand briefly landing on top of his as you stood up and began to walk towards the crowd of people.
Tartaglia jolted, both from the sudden contact that YOU had initiated, albeit it was a very simple touch, and that you were suddenly gone. His head whipped around to see where you had gone, he sighed and ruffled the back of his hair, feeling out of his element.
You spotted a flash of red hair in the distance, what might’ve been a man in a high ponytail.. You were sure that it was—
“Diluc?” You called out, causing the man to stop. He didn’t turn around, for reasons unbeknownst to you, so you pressed on. “Diluc Ragnvindr? Is that..? Mmnph—!” Once you were close enough, he clasped his hand over your mouth.
“How do you know that name?” He asked in a firm tone, his face slightly obscured by the Fatui subordinate mask he was dawning. Diluc looked up to see if anyone was drawn towards the two of you before looking back down.
He gave you a warning glare, slowly lowering in his hand, permitting you to speak. “Do you not remember me? I used to steal grapes from your fathers vineyard!” You spoke with a slight huff in your tone, a bit offended that Diluc seemed to have no recollection of you.
“I see… You were the parasitic offspring of that business man who was always trying to work with my father.” Diluc crossed his arms, the slightest hint of a smirk playing on his lips as he remembered you, albeit not as fondly as you’d hope. “What!? I was not a parasite! That’s no way to talk to a childhood friend,” you also crossed your arms, but in a defensive manner.
Diluc scoffed. “Childhood friend? You were hardly an acquaintance."
You made a squeak ready to scold Diluc for being so rude when you were only trying to reconnect with a familiar face.
You rolled your eyes, biting back your anger. “Well, anyway, what brings you to this party? ..Are you with the people catering?” You say, making a quip about how he’s dressed. He was dressed like the Fatui waiters, who were all wearing the same mask.
He hesitated, looking up one more time before gently cupping your arm and leading you to the secluded balcony. “If you must know, I’m attending to some.. Personal affairs I have with the Fatui that don’t involve serving hors d’oeuvres all night.”
You nodded, believing it would be better if you didn’t pry into it too much.. For now, at least.
“What about you? ..Surely a lady such as yourself has more important matters to attend to than… This,” Diluc gestured towards the inside area where aristocratic Snezhnayan’s were drinking and dancing.
You sighed, “I have an obligation to be here. I’m married to a Fatui harbinger,”
Diluc’s eyes widened. “You are?” His posture stiffened, clearly wondering which Harbinger.
“Yes. The Eleventh, Tartaglia.” You said, raising your hand to reveal a wedding band on your ring finger. “It was arranged.”
He nodded, “For how long?..”
“2 years now, I believe…” You lowered your head. This was the first time you had been given a chance to talk about your marriage with Childe.
Diluc’s fist tightened, “I.. See..” He didn’t know what else to say, since he himself was in the process of getting over his own grief.
You smiled at him and shook your head, “It’s fine, really, I’ve gotten used to it. Plus, it’s not all bad.. I mean, I get to live in a very nice mansion,” you laughed, but, in reality you knew the superficiality of your life only fulfilled you so much.
He paused at that, but then slowly placed a hand on your shoulder. “Listen.. I’m working with an underground intelligence network in Nod-Krai to try and put an end to the Fatui. If you need my help in getting out of Snezhnaya, please don’t hesitate to ask.” Your eyes widened at that, “You want to take down the Fatui?”
Diluc nodded, “Yes. To tell you the truth—I’ve been banned from Snezhnaya. That’s why I’m wearing this disguise.” He said slowly, beginning to wonder why he was even telling you all of this.
“What!?” You began to think, a while back you did overhear Childe speaking to a colleague about some sort of caped crusader taking down Fatui bases and slaughtering many soldiers.
“..You’re the one who killed all those Fatuus?” You whispered, surprised that Diluc would even commit such acts, last time you had heard, Diluc was a Knight of Favonius.
“What about the knights? Do they know of this? Of what you’re doing?” You leaned in, becoming increasingly worried.
“I left the knights a long time ago. Their system of justice is flawed, and I have to avenge my father.” Diluc squeezed your shoulder lightly, his warm palm sending a small shiver up your neck.
You didn’t want to ask if Master Crepus had really passed, because Diluc’s expression said it all. “I’m sorry.”
Diluc realized how hard he was grabbing your shoulder and his hand quickly loosened. “Don’t be. It isn’t your fault,”
The sudden gentleness of his hand forced an unfamiliar warmth to your cheeks. “..How long are you staying in Snezhnaya?” You asked.
“Only for 2 more weeks, and then I have to return to Mondstat.” His hand trailed down to your forearm before it fell to his side. “Why do you ask?”
You shrugged, holding the forearm he had grazed, “I was just wondering,” you said casually. “I was hoping we’d be able to catch up.”
“Oh?”
“I mean.. Unless that would interfere with your mission!” You quickly replied, holding your hands up defensively.
Diluc couldn’t help but let out an amused huff, crossing his arms. “As much as I’d like to entertain a heartfelt reunion, I fear it would. Also.. I don’t think your husband would like it very much if he knew you were spending time with the nation's most wanted criminal.” He said, holding his palm up towards the side.
Another wave of embarrassment hit you, but you simply laughed it off this time. “Ah, of course. Silly me!” Your hand lifted towards your face, trying to conceal your awkward expression.
Suddenly, Diluc stiffened. You were about to ask what was wrong before an arm wrapped around your shoulders abruptly.
“Darling!” Tartaglia exclaimed, “I was wondering where you wandered off to,” he cooed, playing the act of the doting husband.
Normally, you shooed him off like a bug when he acted like this, but in this moment you were more worried about Diluc than your own comfort. “Oh.. Ah… Yes, I..”
Diluc butted in, “She was inquiring about the brand of wine being served,” he said right away, already having an excuse at the ready.
“And who is this?” Tartaglia’s gaze turned cold at the sight of Diluc, a hint of jealousy in his tone.
“Uhm, Viktor!” You quickly blurted, nodding as if you had just remembered the ‘servers’ name. “Yes, Viktor was indeed helping me figure out what wine was being served on the floor!”
You looked at Diluc with a tense smile. “What did you say the kind was?”
Diluc was quick to answer, “Dandelion, my lady.”
“Right! That’s right, it was dandelion wine, thank you.” You bowed slightly in thanks, not wanting Tartaglia to catch on that this.. Viktor was no Fatui subordinate serving at a party for Snezhnayan nobles.
Tartaglia’s hand gripped your shoulder possessively, a gesture that was rare. “Yes.. Thank you Viktor for quelling my wife’s curiosity. That will be all.” He didn’t know why he felt so threatened by this server. You weren’t really his..
Diluc’s eyes narrowed behind his mask. He wanted nothing more than to strike Tartaglia right where he stood, but he couldn’t make a scene like that.. Not here at least. He didn’t say anything else, and simply did the Fatui salute and walked back into the crowd of people.
You watched him as he disappeared again, a pang of disappointment shooting through your chest.
Tartaglia’s hand softened on your shoulder, his index finger rubbing your skin. “I didn’t know you were interested in the wine.. I could have asked for you, and gotten you ten barrels worth!” He said, relishing in the closeness you were allowing him to have with you.
You didn’t respond, your mind still focused on Diluc. It had been so long since you had seen him last, and you didn’t even see his face properly!
“What do you say to calling it a night, my dear?” Tartaglia’s droning voice came back into focus as he knelt his face next to yours.
“Huh?” You blinked, tilting your head to properly look at him. “What about the after party?” You asked.
Usually during celebrations like these, Tartaglia would stay long enough to do more galavanting, which would normally leave you to go home without him.
He shook his head, “Please, even a blind fool could see that you aren’t having fun here.. Heh, you even left your poor husband for a server!” Tartaglia jested, hoping to coax a laugh from you.
And you did, albeit it was a nervous one. “Mmh, right..” You nodded, looking away from Tartaglia now. You took a step forward, escaping from his clutches.
He didn’t fight to keep you by his side, he simply put his hands behind his back and followed closely beside you. When it came to you, he knew not to pick any battles.
Truly, Tartaglia wanted to spend more time with you. To go home with you after a long night, and maybe even.. Get to know you—He shook his head, fighting back the redness he felt spread across his cheeks when he thought about you actually opening up to him.
You both entered a carriage, sitting across from each other. Your head was turned to look outside of the window, watching the snow start to fall.
Tartaglia was looking at you the whole time. Well, not the whole time.. He would look away when you made eye contact with him, opting to pretend to be also looking out the window, albeit the opposite one.
..Once you arrived at the mansion, he kept his arm over your head to protect you from the snow.