Try as he might, he couldn't find his mentor anywhere. "Man. . ." On a day like today, he thought it might be nice to show gratitude for someone that had taken him under their wing. Oh, well. Whether or not Diluc was at the tavern didn't matter. Bennett trusted Charles enough to hand the gift over and politely ask that he give it to Diluc the moment he arrived. Oh, and to tell him it was a gift from him!
The gift itself was nothing spectacular, but he had spent large portions of a week delving into domains in search of this one, ever-burning feather. It had been carefully placed in decorative box, but remained unwrapped. Despite the feather emitting the same warmth as smoldering coals, it didn't singe the note sitting underneath it.
I heard about an artifact that you might like, so I tried really hard to find it. It took me a little while, but here it is! I just thought you deserved something nice today, for taking care of me and showing me how to get stronger. Thanks for agreeing to train me, and for being so patient with me!
Scribbled at the end was a small, sloppy doodle of a thumbs up.
When he left the tavern empty handed, he released a pent-up breath. "I hope he likes it!"
--- As it were, work had pulled the redhead from his beloved home. Having left only that morning, albeit with a level of reluctance, to pursue a new trade deal. Unbeknownst to him, that time away was to stretch for days. It would not be until the morning of the fifth day that he'd make his return. Travel worn and, dare he say, a little anxious. Hoping that nothing had befallen Mondstadt in his brief time away.
Of course, this anxiety had remained in the forefront of his mind for the entirety of his trip. And, while words may have been spoken to those who knew with promises given in turn to keep up his nightly watch, Diluc simply could not shake the feeling that he should be at home. Protecting that which he had sworn to protect. Yet with gaze falling upon the familiar shape of home, there was a level of relief that washed over his tired frame. One that would ease away at least some of the nervous tension that may have been hidden beneath that heavy coat. Letting loose a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding, content for that moment that everything seemed to be fine – on the surface level anyway.
Stepping foot in his own establishment, he was met with the familiar – though rather ghastly – smell of stale alcohol. Masked – well, that was to say there had been an attempt made to mask it anyway – by a faint floral scent. But even this was oddly comforting. For that which was considered pleasantly familiar would often have such an effect, right? Still, upon reaching the bar and, subsequently, stepping behind it, he would be greeted by a jovial but no less cordial voice, one that came from below. Followed, no less, by the pushing of a few crates of carefully stored stock up through the trapdoor. His own movements would be fluid, natural. Shifting only slightly to allow for space and to allow the crate to be eased up before moved entirely.
There would be a few exchanged words, pleasantries, enquiries as to whether or not Diluc had had a good trip, small talk that was endured for the sake of a good working environment before a sudden realisation dawned upon Charles expression, one that spoke wholly of his own remembrance. It had, after all, been a whole five days since the young pyro user had dropped off this little box, it was only natural that such a thing would slip his mind, right? Even if it was only for a moment.
“Ah, young Bennett left this, insisted I handed it to you when you got back,”
Intrigue coloured the young master’s expression, if only for a moment, as he took the small box. Delicate, intricate and yet still in-keeping with his more modest of tastes. A small huff of a laugh escaped him, it would appear the younger male paid more attention than he let on. Yet opening it would garner little more than a raising of his eyebrows. Laying inside was a feather. Brilliant red in colour and warm to the touch. And beneath that, a note. One that, even if Charles hadn’t mentioned just who had left it, would have undoubtedly given away the gifter’s identity. And even that had had nothing to do with the Benny signed under the scrawled message but rather the doodle that followed thereafter.
But it would be the mere mention of ‘this day’ that would halt the male in his tracks. A small “Ah...” slipping past partly opened lips. That day. A day conveniently forgotten in the general hubbub that surrounded travel and business meetings. A good thing, perhaps, that he had both ultimately forgotten and hadn’t encountered any he actually cared about prior to now. Fearing it would be safe to say that his mood would have likely been less than stellar on that previously aforementioned date.
With the note carefully folded and tucked away in the pocket of his coat, he’d snap the box closed. It too being tucked away in another of the garment’s pockets. And for but a moment, if anyone cared to look hard enough, they would see the faintest of smiles ghosting the redhead’s lips. Fleeting in it’s existence. And when once more he would look up from the gift, Diluc would find that Charles had once more busied himself with something in the tavern. As if giving the tavern master a moment both to himself and with his thoughts.
“Remind me to locate the finest of ingredients later,” he’d state simply, not that he would forget, however, there had simply been a need to break the silence. “I believe the young adventurer deserves a congratulatory meal,” consisting of, what he hoped, would be the finest macaroni and cheese the young man had ever tasted.
