In this fic (and my headcanon), Diluc is in his early thirties while Jean is in her late twenties; it just makes more sense to me given their lore and career height.

Disclaimer: come on...

Truth be told, everyone saw it coming. In the city of wine, festivities, and freedom, two particularly stoic individuals like Diluc and Jean stood out helplessly. They were once the typical bright-eyed, exceptionally talented cadets with unbounded futures. A lot happened and repetition is unnecessary. They simply choose not to talk about it.

On one hand, a Gunnhildr heiress who takes after everyone and everything. A perfectionist, respectful, perfectly composed warrior titled the Dandelion Knight.

And on the other hand, a man ironically crowned as the most eligible bachelor in the city. Ironic because he never seemed to be drawn to the things most bachelors do. No Dawn Winery Manor maids ever saw him bringing anyone home, no silly group of young friends to travel the world with, he's not fond of liquor of any kind either. Nevertheless, he's polite and hardworking. Resourceful, quiet, and tactful. They grew up mirroring each other's qualities due to their upbringing, it's a natural occurrence.

And somehow, they spent the night together, she's not sure about the hows. Jean wouldn't know how to begin explaining how it came to this but it did and here they are.

She got up to gather pieces of her clothing in Master Diluc's room. There's a natural sense of sobriety only mornings can give to you, and Jean used it to soak up the view around her. It feels... kind of odd, honestly. Considering the room's general width, bed size, and appliances, this looks like the master bedroom used by the late Master Crepus.

"Yet, he pouts whenever my tongue slips and called him Master Diluc but really, it's only appropriate," she thought to herself.

He's still sleeping. Most of him is tucked under the tangled sheets, only a vague shape of his head and fiery red hair facing her. Feeling presentable enough, Jean opens the door to an empty hallway. She made a left to the grand staircase, where the story below is quite bustling with the mansion's maids and their routine housework. Some of the maids notice, but no one minded her, they were too busy dusting and preparing for breakfast.

She went to the kitchen and got out through the back door. By the shadows outside, she can tell that it's still early dawn. She wanted to stop by her flat first in the Knights of Favonious dorm before going to work.

Jean left her mother's home as soon as she was promoted to Captain's seat. And it was the same with Diluc too back then. There was a party even, right here on the winery. Celebrating his promotion being the youngest Cavalry Captain ever, and leaving his father's private residence. "My boy's a Bachelor!" Master Crepus was both very drunk and very proud.

It is such an anomaly to experience sunrise on the winery as an adult. There were some moments she spent playing by the grapevines with other children but this scene, of her feeling disheveled in yesterday's outfit, potentially late to work because of 'personal' reasons, just... beyond improper.

Jean tries to trace her memory back as to what lead to this.

As always, she spent most of her nights in the office, more than anyone else. But there's a time to rest too, so she head back. She saw the owner of Angel's share at the gate. They nodded to each other.

Sometimes Master Diluc filled a shift in his bar, when an employee took the day off or simply unavailable. Jean knows this, this isn't the first time they bump into one another at this hour.

Neither of them are chatty person. They're always polite, kind-spirited and genuine, but they were never the type of people to stand around to just talk for the sake of catching up.

But things aren't always like this. They used to be able to have some fun, you know? Diluc used to be able to make some jokes, and Jean can snort when she laughs (not in front of her mother, but you know, around the other cadets). It sounded too out of it now but they were teenagers once.

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Dadaupa Gorge, 15 years ago or so.

The dawn was gruesome, Jean had fought for her life all night. They managed to tear her right arm, and it's still bleeding. Her imperfect blade work backfired and she was thrown across the woods by one of their claws. The pebbles scratched her right leg, and she can feel a muscle there had gone wrong.

It was her patrolling route near Dragonspine, a relatively empty route with little to no human in sight. Patrolling doesn't actually require cadets of her station to clean the routes from monsters, it was to minimize citizen casualties that happen to be there or guide adventurer's guild international members if they're ever lost. So it's a one in a million, worst-case scenario that Jean encountered two Rifthounds way beyond her combat capacity that day.

Nevertheless, she stood up, again and again. She can do it, she prayed to Barbatos. For Monstadt.

But it was over when she heard her back crack. She can barely see the Rifthounds anymore so she dashes with everything she had left to the nearest spring.

She could not heal herself in this state. Her head is spinning and she's so far away from home. It's not the time to pity party but she couldn't help but cringe at her weak timing. She didn't leave a scratch on any of those hounds and yet they beat her to pulp faster than Jean managed to shield herself.

"Jean!"

And of course, it was Diluc. Her direct hierarchy in the Favonius cadet service. He had to be the one to find her in the most inappropriate state. She expects a patrolling knight replacing her shift of the same route would be around by this time, but it just had to be someone whom her mother knows well. Jean's pretty sure Young Master Diluc wouldn't blabber his mouth about her failure but still.

He's wearing the cadet uniform, just like she is. No customized claymore yet either, they're all required to master the standard Favonious blade first and foremost.

"I didn't know you could heal, Sir."

Diluc paused his hands for a beat, "...I don't, I just know enough that we need to cover the bleeding before going back." He continue wrapping her wounded arm, previously cleansed with spring water with more layers of medical sheet. It's sloppy and about two layers too much, but Jean kept the thought to herself.

He crouched and motioned Jean to climb onto his back and she swallowed a frustrated sigh before crawling. It's not that she hated to see him, no not at all. Jean admires him all her life, honestly.

He's one of those boys your mom teases you to snatch because not only are they good-looking, they have impeccable manners too for any mother's standards. And her mother, the prideful Model Knight in her time, never failed to point out Diluc's natural prowess in combats either.

Early sun shone through the trees, Jean felt the pleasant warmth on her back and it is such a lovely change to the cold on her route near Dragonspine, yet she's far too restless to enjoy it. Her arm is still bleeding inside the wrap, she's exhausted, desperate for a bath, the mud and blood stains dried on her face, her head hurts because of the blood loss. All of these she can live with but the fact that she ran away from the hounds, and is now carried home by her senior?

She worry she might leave dirt or drying blood on Young Master Diluc's hair or clothes. Though she knew he's not really the type to fuss over those things. Still, still. She wished it didn't went like this, this messy. This...unlady like? Far from the tales of Lady Vanessa.

And then Jean felt like crying once her mother's face came into mind. Wind, what would her mother say if she was here?

"You know," Diluc tug her unwounded leg gently, breaking her very intense fantasy of a four parts lecturing. "You did well back there. You did what you can for a window to flee. We can't win all battles, but the ones you survived are worth celebrating."

"Yes Sir, I ran away." Jean recognized his spirit to comfort her, but she doesn't feel like sugarcoating her frustration anymore.

He let two beats goes by before continuing, "You said to me once, that protecting has always been a more difficult task than destroying."

She nodded. "Yes, those are the words written by my ancestor, Abraxas Gunnhildr." He's one of the earliest knights documented in Monstadt, but Diluc probably don't care for that.

He nodded, "Yes well, considering his words, you are protecting Monstadt right now by surviving, going home and reporting it to the others to be dealt with appropriately. That's why, remember that by his standard, you did well just now."

She felt her shoulders came down from her ears, not realizing how tense they have been. Jean noticed anemo crystal flies flying around some whirlwind asters and nodded again, "Yes….. I understand, Sir."

They are close to Windrise, because Jean cought a foggy sight of Vanessa's oak tree from where they stood. A wave of familiar relief came flooding over her like the hundredth times she saw that tree before. Raised by her mother, Jean may not live her life in the church like her sister but she found a temple to pray for in that oak tree. As far as she knows, the God of Wind is always with her in Windrise.

"For Monstadt, always." Only, it wasn't her chanting. It was Diluc's.

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Brightcrown Canyon, 8 years ago or so

She was leading a team of her own for the first time. A small group of elite knights with the task to sabotage a few posts of the Abyss order without being seen. Most of the team members are without visions, but it never really mattered, Jean was not a vision holder either and she's easily one of the best Cadets Monstadt has ever seen. Knights of Favonius may never be a flawless institution but they are not known for being discriminatory.

The new Lawrence girl would never say it out loud but even Jean can tell she's grateful for the fair treatment. She quickly earned a spot in Jean's team, and she just told her that she got her vision last week.

"How did it appear before you? Did it fell graciously from the sky?" Jean insists. She never thought of it as a necessity, but it's always exciting to hear someone she knows getting a vision.

"What an absurd notion, Miss Gunnhildr." Eula insists on calling her that when she learns that Jean will be her superior, but she can't keep her eyes from rolling.

"……. I was thinking of what it meant….." Eula mumbled under her breath.

"Whatwhatmeant?"

"Just…. Nevermind. But I was contemplating…. And it manifest before me. That's all you are allowed to know."

And she look away almost immediately, as if her tongue would catch fire if she continued talking about it.

And they were close to the next post to sabotage. They are not there to engage in direct combat, but to destroy the vital supplies of the abyss, may it be food, weapons or whatever they're smuggling at the time. Unfortunately the timing was off, one of the crossbow holders on the tower notice them before her team managed to explode the pile of food containers.

But it's not a problem, her team's not made of awkward rookies. They all came prepared for a fight when it can't be helped. Jean pulled the blade on her hip, leading the others and initiate attack on what seemed to be the heaviest Hillichurl in a few swift, clean blade work. Her subordinates scattered methodically, the container exploded and then the other one as well, all the while more enemies are being taken out without a pause. It was a by the book and proper execution before suddenly, it grew very quiet around her. Despite multiple clanks of swords, fire crackling and wailings of the hurt, she is physically sedated. As if she is in a different, a lot slower time stream than the rest of the world.

She can only pick up rustles of the wind in her ears before noticing a new weight in her left hand, one that doesn't held the blade, is now holding a glass of totem. Jean recognized that symbol anywhere. "How fitting." she can hear her mother would say if she was here and it would be the closest thing to a proper praise she'll ever hear from her.

But it's never about that, she smiled before chanting "It's for Monstadt, always."

-

After weeks of camping out, they arrived in town just before sundown. The team was drowning in euphoria of victory and it seems like exhaustion vaporize just from seeing the peaceful home they've left to protect. They were being cheered left and right, everyone said Jean is doing such a great job as a first time captain and congratulate her on her new vision.

But there was a distinct, deeply uncomfortable quiet when she first stepped into the headquarters. It's not the 'end of the day' silence where everyone's gone home. Neither was it the 'busy with paperwork' kind of quiet. Jean can tell it was something else and no one dared to move a muscle. The knights stationed to stand by the doors are equally tense. She was about to greet one of them when the double doors to the Grand Master's office were slammed open from the inside. It was rude and abrasive of him but Diluc didn't seem to care. His eyes took notes of Jean and her team's presence but he made no further ado. He stormed off the building in similar fashion, with feigned ignorance and resentment.

Jean and her team carefully stepped into Grand Master Varka's office, now wide open. She saw him in contemplation, two fingers holding his chin while his eyes staring at the sky bleeding with pink and purple by the windows.

One of Jean's subordinates cleared his throat and the Knight of Boreas finally acknowledge them being in the same room as he.

"Ah Captain Jean, I heard the mission went impeccable, we do not expect less from you." He turned in his seat, "And congratulations on your Anemo vision, my dear. You know, some folks say that the Archons are not the ones responsible to assign vision holders but I would like to digress. I always think it is one in many forms of blessing from each respective Archon, at the very least. May Barbatos's gentle wind be with you." He smiled again, it does not reach his eyes. This man is the only one having full context of Master Diluc's unusual rowdiness and yet he seemed to be the only one unaffected by it.

His hand makes a motion of dismissal. "Well, you boys and girls should go home and rest. Deal with the paperwork in the morning. Go, celebrate, it's an order hahahahaha" He spins in his chair again, and there's really nothing left for them to do than to spun around as well and leave.

Jean noticed before leaving, she noticed when she first stepped in his office. A pyro vision left on Grand Master Varka's desk. Oh, how she fought the irrational urge to snatch it without anyone's knowing and return it back to its rightful owner in Dawn Winery. A vision is after all, a very special form of blessing from the Archons and Celestia. She believed it too all the same, just like Varka. But she has no right to do so. If Diluc did disown it out of his own will, she should look away.

Inspector Eroch never made a sound that afternoon, he stood without moving as if he was a furniture, a floor lamp with flocks of hair in place of the usual lamp shade.

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And just like that, those days are over. There is nothing like the life threatening adrenaline fight of the unknown because, well, Jean knew most of it by now. She can handle a Rifthound with one swift of her perfected technique, she is never tasked with dealing monsters anymore because that's the training field for rookie knights and cadets. When she does, it was mainly for show. A bar sets purposefully higher than actual expectations to inspire the trainees.

She can heal now, faster than her sister could. They share that trait, the desire to help anyone and everyone as much as they could. To be useful, committing themselves to a higher cause than winning a fight. How fitting that both sisters were blessed with similar skills.

Hence, she spent most of her days and nights at the office. There are many unceremonious, unrecognized responsibilities to being an acting Grand Master and Jean is not one to slack off.

"No time like the present." Has been her new motto. But still, there is time to turn off the lights and rest. She cannot serve the city with an ill body.

This time she does not meet Master Diluc. But she heard broken glasses and cuss words shouted with slurring manner.

"Gentlemen!" She finally heard a distinctively sober voice. "Please keep your voices down!"

Jean took the opportunity to grab both of the fighting drunkards by their weapons, two empty bottles of beers, and have them both sit down by the outdoor tables.

Diluc gave them both cold water and ask them to leave. They complied but mostly by the threat Diluc made of banning them from the bar if they didn't.

"I think I'll close the bar down earlier today. Doesn't look like anyone else is coming over anyway." He sighed before going in. Jean instinctively went with him, copying his movements by lifting the chairs up to the tables and gathering empty cups scattered.

"Thank you Jean. I wanted to say 'You really didn't need to' but I know you'll ignore me anyway."

"It's no problem Sir." She joined him behind the counter, handing over used glasses and beer bottles.

"Why don't you sit down, I'll pour you something for a nightcap."

"No that won't be necessa- AH!" One of her shoe slipped by the spilled wine and she fell on her own legs. Her back painfully pressed to a drawers handle, but Diluc simply stared at her. She expects him to lend a hand, to at least say 'sorry I should've mop that first.'. That was the kind of gentlemen Diluc was raised to be. He is not mean-spirited or ignorant to her. Probably to some people, but not to her. Never towards her.

He wiped his hands off the soap dishes and bent to his knees, facing Jean.

Something in his eyes cutting the breath in her throat. It's a tension she never knew existed between her and Diluc. Out of all people, her childhood friend. What a cliché, such a dull premise. And yet, here he comes, both hands grabbing her by the arms. Pushing her back to the cupboard behind the counter, thankfully her shoulder shift from the painful handle. But then their lips melted together, and she can feel Diluc pushing her even further everytime she tried to get some air.

Diluc followed her everytime she moves her head and she felt a hand snaked through her pony tail, tracing the ribbon thread trying to undone it. Unwillingly, Jean's memory from her fingertips reminded her of the time she's bawling on his hair, fleeing from a battle she couldn't won.

He grab her by the jaw, Jean's whole back was pressed to the tavern's drawer and it hurts. Her protests are muffled by his maneuver, and he kept going for more. It doesn't stop, he kept nibbling her bottom lip until Jean's nails digged the skin of his neck that his lips left hers with a hiss.

"Diluc! I can't breathe!" She pants, eyelids heavy and there's a sensation similar to a second glass of wine.

He stared at her for one complete second before plunging into her face again. His tongue is curious, restless, utterly shameless. Jean couldn't think, but she couldn't believe that the Diluc she grew up with can be so selfish. She always known him to be polite, cautious and secretly generous but the man in front of her only take, take and take. He took the air in her lungs, the ribbon tying her hair, and everything she thought she knew about him.

Jean suddenly felt all too conscious of the fermented grape scent around them, on him. He is taking her breath even more until he finally lets go. It's a lot of kisses, from the prerequisite lips to the tiny areas his eyes subconsciously wandered to in daylight. He nip at her neck, skimmed the collarbone and then bit her shoulder. It was more to his pleasure than hers, really, he just always wanted to do that, that much he's willing to admit. Diluc held their distance, she's unable to see his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I was aware you were suffocating." He finally looked at her.

"Truth is I've been suffocating for years, until just now. And it's you, of course it's you. I should've known." He hid his face in the crook of neck, managing his own breaths and heartbeats.

He despises the Knights of Favonious, it's system, staggering incompetence to it's bureaucracy, and the way they handled his father's death. Yet he respects Jean, he respects and admire everything Jean stands for. He would ran to her when in need because he knows she wouldn't ask, she didn't need to. Their love is the one adults show when they talk about their tiring day, the piling, unexciting responsibilities almost detached from the adventures they experienced in their youth.

They do not pine over passionate, drunken confession or poems sang to make a sweet maiden blush. There were no loud gestures worth millions of moras because there was no grand meaning to the way they succumbed to one another. But there is admiration and absolute loyalty, proven from time to time, not just to each other but to their own virtues at their lowest. It's in the contemplative, well-meaning words they use to speak of the other behind their backs and quiet smiles reserved for each other like a sacred language.They think of each other fondly in between their breaks. Reminisce each other as a part of their youth that were not meant to be spoiled by the terrible things that happened.

It's familiarity and a fire that started years ago in their stomach but was concealed beyond their control.

And when she felt him holding her, as if scared she has the mean spirited side to her to leave him like this, she understood. Jean positioned herself so that Diluc can lied his weight on her and the counter. A vulnerability she never knew still existed in him.

In Vera's Melancholy, Sachi was her childhood friend, hopelessly in love. Trying to win her over the wise sage she has a crush on, Ike. Sachi is nothing like Diluc, and she doesn't know anyone with Vera's personality.

But mayhaps in another life, where she's more like Vera and meet someone like Sachi, she wouldn't let him hold her like this. Because Sachi is nothing like Diluc, ironically.

Author's note: to be perfectly honest this doesn't come out exactly the way i planned it in my head. but i did my best, and i think it's tolerable enough to be published. I'll return to revise it from time to time though, because I'm not generally satisfied with it.

still, i hope i get to share this with other jealuc shippers with similar headcanon dynamic to mine. so if any of you reading this found other jealuc fic with similar dynamic, where they're just two boring adults pining hard. please leave the links on the comment because I'm starving

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