Prize Catches - EmrysWintersong - 原神 (2024)

Chapter 1: Prize Catches

Chapter Text

Most people, those select few who knew, assumed that they formed when Tartaglia dragged their weary body out of abyss at the age of fourteen. They were wrong, but Childe and Tartaglia never felt the need to correct them. It did not concern outsiders, it only concerned them, their family, their system.

Those who did not know, simply thought that they were excellent actors. That they could slip on different masks, different skins in order to adapt to their surroundings. In a way, that wasn’t a wrong assumption. They each had tasks, things that they were good at, things that they liked to do. Childe fronted the most, he was easy going, a bright smile with charm to match. He did have his insecurities though, he disliked that they were considered a weapon. He hated that it was all they were seen for. Tartaglia on the other hand lived for that, he was the main protector of their system. He would front during field work, he let Childe handle the boring paperwork. He thrived in conflict, in duress. He was the weapon’s master, the one that fought tooth and nail in every situation. He would not go as far as to call himself a monster, but he was close.

Foul Legacy was the last alter to emerge. He was the monster. He could speak, but rarely did. It was Tartaglia’s job to keep him in check. To make sure he didn’t try to front unless absolutely necessary. Legacy, as they had shortened his name, because who had the time to add Foul in front every time, was their last line of defense. He hadn’t failed them yet, and for that they were grateful.

Then there was Ajax. Who they assumed was the host, but it was hard to tell now. Sweet Ajax, who was their little one, the one they all strove to protect. Ajax who had been neglected his entire childhood, who had to have Childe come protect him behind polite smiles and cute mannerisms. Ajax was about eight in their minds, that could change, but he tended to stay around five to eight.

That was it, their tidy little system of four. That’s all they needed to survive, all any of them wanted, otherwise it might get too crowded.

They were fine as is, so why was it, that Childe had to go f*ck it up for all of them?

Tartaglia watched Childe lean over the table, listening to their cultural guide with rapt fascination. Tartaglia and Childe often were co-conscious, just in case they needed help. Unfortunately the life of a Harbinger was anything but steady. Childe had been fronting for them for the past three weeks, and in that time, Tartaglia had seen him trip over this… Mister Zhongli, more times than he could count.

“So that’s the creation story of the Guyun Stone Forest?” Childe simpered, leaning his chin on his hand.

“Mm,” Zhongli nodded in front of them, “I thought you may enjoy that tale,” he chuckled, taking a sip of tea with an elegant gesture, “You seem to like war stories.”

“Oh,” Childe startled, “I just think battle is interesting! I’m a Harbinger after all!” Tartaglia groaned to himself, watching Childe flirt with the man who was probably twice their age. Zhongli continued to talk, as they ate their meal. Childe dropping his food so many times it was embarrassing. They were considered a weapons master, and Childe could barely handle chopsticks.

I thought we agreed romance wasn’t for us.

It’s not romance, it’s called making friends Tartaglia!

“It would seem you are still getting used to the chopsticks,” Zhongli rumbled, “Here, hold it like this.” Zhongli had gotten up and draped his body around them, gently guiding Childe’s movements. Their heart raced and Tartaglia wanted to barf with how utterly romantic this was. Childe still ended up dropping the shrimp, so instead, Zhongli picked it up and fed it to him, like a baby bird.

CHILDE!

Oh my archons, oh my archons.

“How is it?” Zhongli crooned, a hand skimming across their waist.

“D-delicious,” Childe gasped after swallowing the bite.

“We wouldn’t want this to get cold,” Zhongli hummed, sitting down next to Childe. “Here, I shall assist you.” With that Zhongli picked up another bite and offered it to Childe.

You’re on your own. I just can’t watch this, call me when there’s something to kill.

T-tartaglia, wait!

Nope.

Of course Childe had to fall head over heels for some random Liyuen man. As a system, well, mostly Tartaglia, Childe and Legacy, had agreed that romance wasn’t going to be in the cards for them. Tartaglia had little interest in gooey or sappy things. He wanted a fight, he was attracted to things that could kill them. Which Tartaglia recognized was a problem. Legacy on the other hand, would probably tear apart anyone they tried to woo. Legacy… was rough with things, not on purpose, but it truly did not know its own strength. Legacy liked to play, and that play was rather brutal. Ajax was too young for them to consider exposing him to it, he was their baby.

Childe was the only one that was viable for a romantic relationship. How would someone feel if their partner woke up and was different person, a monster or a child? It just wasn’t worth it for them. And yet, Childe seemed infatuated with Zhongli. Childe spent so much money on him, spent so much time with him while constantly denying that there was any romantic tension. They were just, really close friends.

Finally, Tartaglia got a chance to front during a debt collection. Childe was rather exhausted from constantly facing the world, so when a debt collection opportunity came up, they chomped at the bit to take it. Tartaglia easily slipped in front as Childe took a well deserved nap. Most people would barely notice the difference. Maybe they would notice the air of authority that surrounded him, or maybe it would be the rougher speech pattern, or the stony face. Or they just wouldn’t notice it was an entirely different person standing in front of them.

“Lord Tartaglia,” his subordinates bowed and started to give him a report on all the field work details they had gathered. This is what he thrived in, the recon, the battles. He was the military operative not the pencil pusher Childe had to be. Once the report was finished, Tartaglia took the documents from the agent.

“Dismissed,” he said coldly, glancing over the papers.

“U-uh sir?” The agent stuttered. Tartaglia arched his brow and slowly raised his gaze from the sheets of paper. With a small tilt of his head, he beckoned the agent to speak. The man swallowed thickly. Tartaglia had been told his gaze was rather unsettling, though there was nothing that could change it. The Abyss took what it pleased. “Th-there, a concern was raised. A civilian was sighted rather close to the next debtors camp. I, well the entire company knows how f-fond you are of Mister Zhongli.”

“Mister Zhongli,” the name rolled off of Tartaglia’s tongue.

“Yes sir,” the agent nodded, “He was spotted collecting some sort of plant near the camp.”

“Irrelevant,” he barked, “We’ll continue on as previously discussed.”

“Y-yes Lord Harbinger!” The man nearly shouted, ducking away without another word. It was ridiculous that Childe had fallen for such a soft man. A feeble scholar, a man who was no good outside of his deep voice and intricate mind. Tartaglia could appreciate that, truly, the man was knowledgeable. But half their system craved blood, and it wasn’t like that was acceptable to most. That man would be in for a rude awakening. Maybe that awakening would happen today. It was best to nip the whole thing in the bud. Tartaglia knew Childe would be upset, but like a snowstorm, that would pass too.

Tartaglia wasted no time traveling to the next location. Polar star was already in hand as he approached the camp. From the hill, he could indeed see Childe’s little scholar wandering around a field of flowers. What he was searching for did not matter, he just needed to see Tartaglia take his victory. Raising Polar Star, he stretched the weighted string back, aiming at the head of a treasure hoarder. With barely a breath, he released the string, an arrow sailing with a lovely arc. It was even more lovely when it hit home. The red blood that welled like a Fontaine fountain brought a gleeful smile to Tartaglia’s face. There was nothing more beautiful than death.

With a flick of his eyes, he saw Childe’s consultant, staring across the field at him, at the scene of the soon to be massacre. He did not acknowledge the man, and turned his attention back to the panicking men in the camp below.

“I’ve been rather bored,” he drawled out, startling his agents, “I’ll handle this one on my own, not that it’ll be much of a challenge,” he chuffed. Without another word he slid down the hill’s face, blades forming in his hands. He took to it like a whale in water, slicing down any man or woman in his way. Their screams were like music to his ears, and the blood that splattered his skin felt like a soothing balm. He could feel Legacy stir, another connoisseur of bloodshed. They both need this, every once in a while, when Childe stole the stage for too long.

He stilled, taking in a few deep breaths as the entire camp was decimated. He surveyed his handy work with a pleased hummed. The blood on his skin would soon turn tacky, but that in itself was another delight. Washing the losers blood from his body was an earned ritual.

“Childe!” Zhongli shouted, from much closer than he should have been. Tartaglia looked up, and suddenly, a beautiful spear was thrown, missing his head by a breadth, and piercing something solid behind him. What a astonishing throw. The strength it must have taken to handle a spear that large was nothing to laugh at. Tartaglia’s eyes slid behind him, a dead treasure hoarder laid on the ground. That lovely spear sticking out of his head, creating a pool of crimson in the sand. “Childe,” Zhongli breathed, close enough to touch, and touch he did. Tartaglia stiffened as the man gently inspected his face. “You should not relax before a battle is over!” He scolded, looking different than Tartaglia had ever seen him.

The way his brows turned down, into an angry arch. The way his golden eyes ferociously glowed, the wrinkles around them much more prominent. His hair was out of place, and Tartaglia found that he rather liked it mussed.

“Pay attention when I am speaking to you Childe,” Zhongli hissed, clearly agitated.

“… Forgive me,” he said calmly, “I was unaware Xiansheng had any… martial skills.” Zhongli’s angry expression loosened, but was replaced by something else, something Tartaglia could not fully place. “Thanks are in order,” he continued, ignoring the strange sensation he was simmering in. “I owe you another lunch, it would seem. You helped me avoid a rather nasty wound.”

“Wound?” Zhongli huffed, “You would have been dead Childe.” Oh, that clearly made the scholar angry. The thought of his precious Childe dying on him. How laughable.

“Nonsense,” Tartaglia scowled, “As if I would die from a blow to the head. Xiansheng, as much as I appear to not know about you, there is still much you do not know of me.”

“Clearly,” Zhongli said, his face settling into a rather odd… pout?

“Speak to Ekaterina and she will arrange a lunch for us, mm?” Childe turned, ending the conversation there. How did his attempt at sabotaging Childe and Zhongli’s relationship end in a date? What a f*ck up that was.

“Wait,” Zhongli grabbed his arm. This man was much too familiar, or maybe Childe was the handsy one. How irritating. “I would like lunch now,” he demanded, of course, it was hidden behind a cordial tone.

“I have work to do Xiansheng,” he said with a little bow of his head. “I cannot simply run off whenever it pleases you.” Tartaglia need to add that little stab for his own sake, his own pride.

“W-well, actually,” an agent hesitantly spoke out of turn, “That was the last debt for the day.”

“Excellent,” Zhongli purred, to the point Tartaglia wondered if their was a cat hiding somewhere nearby. “Come along Childe,” he said, “I believe Xiangling has a special dish she is serving today, and was rather eager to share with us.”

“Xiansheng,” Tartaglia sighed, “I am… covered in blood.” He uselessly pulled at his uniform. “I doubt that is the kind of attention Miss Xiangling wishes to garner to her restaurant.”

“You can wash along the way,” Zhongli countered, his eyes never leaving Tartaglia. Something was up, Zhongli was trying to pull something over him, and need Tartaglia near. Fine, he’d play along, for now. With a gracious bow, he agreed, following the man towards the Harbor. Zhongli did indeed allow him to wash off in a stream before entering the city. Zhongli rambled the entire way there, but it was different this time. Instead of the stories he told Childe, Zhongli was, oddly enough, catering towards Tartaglia’s interests.

They spoke of weaponry, form and strategy. Zhongli shared his own expertise with a polearm. Sharing that he had been in battles before, and won many. It subverted the previous view that Tartaglia held. It made him want to crow out in laughter. Childe had the wool pulled over their eyes, and he had as well. This was a warrior, playing at being a scholar. How hilarious.

Tartaglia was still trying to work out what Zhongli was up to as they sat and ate at Wanmin. Xiangling, as bubbly as ever, delivered their food and Tartaglia wasted now time digging in. He had worked up quite the appetite today with battle. It took Tartaglia longer than he would like to admit, that while he started to gorge himself on food, that Zhongli had not taken a bite. The man was openly staring at him, a glint of curiosity in his eyes, and his mouth slightly agape. Huh, Zhongli had cute fang like teeth. Tartaglia wondered what his bite must feel like.

“Is something bothering you Xiansheng?” He called affectionately, mimicking Childe. He set his chopsticks down, so his full attention was on Zhongli. He watched the other man look around slowly, as if checking their surroundings for eavesdroppers. The man, seeming satisfied, turned to look at Tartaglia.

“Who are you…?” He asked slowly, his pleasant voice rumbling in his chest.

“Very funny Xiansheng,” Tartaglia laughed coyly, “I’m not sure what you’re up to friend, but it is certainly amusing.” Tartaglia wished for a moment that Childe was there, ready to slip in instead. Of course he had to be exhausted, just because Tartaglia hadn’t wanted to deal with bank paperwork.

“You are quite skilled with chopsticks, for foreigner,” he commented slyly, making Tartaglia freeze. sh*t. He had been using them with ease.

“You caught me Xiansheng,” he laughed, “I’ve been practicing.” Oh Childe was going to kill him if they had to switch every time he had a meal with Zhongli now.

“No,” Zhongli said rather firmly, “It’s… rather clear you are not Childe.”

“I don’t understand,” Tartaglia played dumb.

“You… look different,” Zhongli said with a certain softness in his voice, “You are different than him. Your demeanor, your voice… the way you move. It’s all rather different, and well, distinct. Childe moves with a youthful energy, enthusiam, the delicate movements of a dancer. You move with grace, like a rishabold tiger stalking prey. Your eyes glimmer in the heat of battle,” he murmured, his voice resonating in Tartaglia’s chest. Oh, this man. This wily man was speaking to him in a way that made him tremor in excitement. “You look rather lovely in red, might I add,” he crooned, the killing blow to Tartaglia’s stuttering heart.

“I…” Tartaglia mumbled, the words drying up his throat.

“Please, I would like to know the name of the man I speaking to,” Zhongli chuckled, “I find him rather enthralling.”

“Tartaglia,” he breathed, “Call me… Tartaglia.”

“How clever,” Zhongli laughed warmly, “Not a secret name, just a different man.” Tartaglia stared Zhongli down, like a cornered animal might, unsure of its next moves. “You obviously know of me,” Zhongli hummed, slowly picking at his own food, “But may I ask… how much?”

“… All of it,” Tartaglia answered, stilted.

“All of it?” Zhongli echoed, “I am rather unfamiliar with your…”

“My what?” Tartaglia bit out.

“Circ*mstances,” Zhongli settled on a word, “Do you and Childe… You are very different, and yet similar. I would like to know more about you, as I know him, but…”

“I have little interest in knowing you,” Tartaglia coldly lied. Zhongli had perked his interest, and terrifyingly enough, Legacy’s as well. The best way to not end up killing this man, was to stay clear.

“I wonder,” Zhongli tapped his chin, “Would Childe corroborate that?” The smirk on the older man’s face settled the matter rather fast. Tartaglia scowled at him, narrowing his eyes.

“What do you actually want?” Tartaglia snarled, “Childe should be back tomorrow, you can have him then.”

“Did you not understand?” Zhongli sighed, shaking his head, “I do treasure Childe’s company, but to learn there’s an entire other man, one who is fascinating, and seemingly as cold as a Snezhnayan winter that lives among Childe’s soft summery tides, intrigues me greatly. I know Childe the diplomat, but I would like to know Tartaglia, the warrior, the vanguard.”

“Information is not freely given,” Tartaglia huffed, crossing his arms.

“Spoken like a true military man,” Zhongli chuckled, “Well, there are many things I can offer a man,” he said slowly, which had Tartaglia nearly spitting out his tea, “Such as domain locations across Liyue. I know some… particularly challenging ones.” Tartaglia coughed a few times. Oh archons, he really thought Zhongli was propositioning him. “Does that pique your interest?” He rumbled.

“How challenging?” Tartaglia bantered once he had got in control of himself.

“The Adepti personally use many of these domains to train,” Zhongli delicately picked up a fried shrimp.

“Hmm,” Tartaglia sighed, “Fine, what is it you would like to know?” Little did Tartaglia expect, that that simple permission would open the floodgates. Zhongli badgered him for the rest of the day. He asked a range of questions, about how he and Childe operated, how they communicated, and even some about Tartaglia’s preferences, his thoughts on Liyue, his desires. By the end of the day, Tartaglia was stunned to admit, that Zhongli was probably the only man alive that knew this much about him as an individual. Not even Pulcinella, who raised them, liked talking to Tartaglia this much.

It… was nice.

When Childe had learned of the incident, he would not stop laughing for hours. It even had drawn little Ajax out for a period of time, his little peels of giggles joining in. Tartaglia had sulked for a while, but he could not deny that it was nice, not having to mask his full self with someone. Zhongli was a warrior, and understood the urges he felt. There was no judgement or fear in those lovely amber eyes, only acceptance and at times, pride.

—

Childe blearily answered the door, when he heard the loud knocking. The tiny pout that marred his lips melted away when it was revealed who was pounding on the door.

“Xiansheng,” he breathed with a happy hum.

“Childe,” Zhongli murmured, leaning into to run a gloved hand over his freckled cheek. “I heard Tartaglia got into a big scuffle today, I rushed here to see if you were both alright,” he fretted.

“Mm, yeah,” Childe yawned, “He’s resting right now, it took a lot out of him. Just some minor cuts, but, well, I’m really tired too,” he whined.

“Was I disrupting your rest?” Zhongli asked sheepishly.

“No, no, just… come in?” Childe opened the door as an invitation. Zhongli took it with a warm smile, his hand coming to rest on Childe’s waist. Pleased with the development, Childe nuzzled in against Zhongli, taking in his warm scent.

“What is it dear?” Zhongli asked curiously, pulling Childe to the couch, covered in countless blankets. He tugged lightly at them, to bundle Childe up, when a children’s book clattered to the floor. Childe felt a spike of panic, as Zhongli stared for a moment, but then turned his attention back to Childe.

“I uh,” Childe stuttered, being swathed in blankets, “It gets really tiring being in front all the time. So, Tartaglia and I have planned switches, where he’ll let me rest for a few days at least. Well, the fool,” he snarked, “Got himself into such a big tussle that he had to switch out immediately after receiving care. But I’m exhausted,” he pouted, collapsing against Zhongli.

“I take it this is not a… natural tired, that simple sleep can cure?” Zhongli inferred.

“No,” Childe shook his head, “Think… of it as getting to completely shut off, or like burrow away, hidden from the world for days. No need to eat or get up at all.”

“I see,” Zhongli nodded, his fingers coming to play with Childe’s ginger curls. “Would sleep help at all?”

“A bit,” Childe shrugged.

“Then sleep dearest,” Zhongli urged.

“But you just got here!” He complained.

“I will not leave, come here,” Zhongli bundled him up in his arms, tugging him close. Childe could not fight the utter relaxation that curled around him, and slipped into sleep without a second thought.

—

When Zhongli woke up, Childe was gone from the cocoon of blankets. He was unsure when the man wiggled his way free, and how he didn’t notice. He glanced around the quiet apartment for signs of life. Everything was still dim, nothing seemed to have moved. When he sat up, he noticed, that one thing had indeed moved. The children’s book he found in the couch. It was gone.

At first, he had wondered if Childe and Tartaglia had used children’s books to learn Liyuen. He had seen many foreigners start with that method, and they had all seen success. Childe and Tartaglia spoke wonderful Liyuen, even though it was not necessary, as most people spoke the common tongue.

He shrugged the blankets off, leaving them on the couch, as he searched for his lovely boys. Zhongli considered himself rather lucky, to have two treasures encased in one, stunning body. He checked rooms methodically. He did not spend much time here, Childe and by proxy, Tartaglia seemed to enjoy his home more. Childe once stated it was warmer, and more personal than theirs.

Zhongli stopped in front of a room he had not been in before. Childe had waved it off, saying it was just storage, and yet, there was light seeping under the door. Zhongli knocked slowly. There was a sound of shuffling, but no answer.

“Childe?” Zhongli called gently, “Are you inside?”

“No,” came a warbled response. Zhongli blinked slowly. He had never heard that tone before. That wasn’t Childe or Tartaglia. Zhongli realized what a fool he had been. If there were two, what was stopping there from being more?

“May I come in?” Zhongli asked softly, “I am friends with Childe and Tartaglia.”

“I know,” the voice huffed, sounding sweetly indignant. The door creaked open, to reveal the same body he had come to know, but the posture was all different. This alter, as he had been taught to call them, hunched his shoulders in and toyed with his hands constantly. He was trying to make himself appear smaller. Like he was trying to take up less space. “Mm fine,” he mumbled, “You can go.”

“What… what if I wished to stay?” Zhongli asked.

“Weirdo,” he childishly huffed. Without much indication, he spun around and went back into the room, leaving the door ajar. Zhongli gently pushed it open to find a mattress on the floor, with colorful bedding. A plush rug covered the hardwood floors, and there were toys. So many toys scattered across the floor. Many he recognized as the gifts Childe bought for his siblings. His four little stars, as he called them.

With careful steps, Zhongli managed to avoid damaging any of the toys, and sat on the floor. The alter, looked up from his book, and stared at Zhongli for an uncanny amount of time. He then shoved a stuffed narwhal into Zhongli’s lap without a word.

“Darling,” Zhongli called softly, looking at the toy. This… this alter was young. Younger than what Zhongli thought possible. “What’s your name?”

“Ajax,” he said, flipping a page, “Chilly fell asleep,” he said bluntly, “An’ Taggy is too. Leggy isn’t interested in being here, so I get to.”

“You… get to?” Zhongli inquired.

“Mm, I’m not supposed to be on my own,” he said “Supposed to have Chilly with me, or Taggy, but Taggy’s… grumpy.”

“And Leggy?” Zhongli breathed.

“Leggy’s scary,” Ajax giggled, “He’s real big! And-and he’s got big teef! A-and, he protects us when Taggy can’t! Leggy isn’t good at lookin’ after me though, he breaks stuff! W-well, and Chilly says he breaks people too! So no-no,” he rambled, sitting up a little bit.

“So there are… four of you?” Zhongli asked, toying with the narwhal.

Ajax paused and counted on his fingers, “Mmhmm! Four!”

“How old are you Ajax?” Zhongli asked, brushing an errant curl from the boy’s face.

“Today,” he hummed, “I’m this old, I think!” Ajax held up seven fingers, then counted again and subtracted one.

“Today you’re six?” Zhongli whispered in surprise. How was it possible for Ajax to be that young? There was no way an six year old boy could care for himself. “What… what do you do with Childe and Tartaglia aren’t with you?” He asked carefully.

“Play,” Ajax mumbled, “Mm, color stuff and wait for ‘em.” Zhongli watched Ajax hoist himself off the ground and shuffle on his knees to and bin of colored pencils. He ignored Zhongli, and started to color something. Zhongli sat and watched with a growing pit of concern. Could Ajax cook? Bathe himself? Call out of work?

“Did… Childe have work today?” Zhongli eventually asked.

Ajax made a face and said, “Nope, Taggy got hurt so the scary lady made him take… pot?” He screwed up his face, like he knew he got the word wrong.

“PTO?” Zhongli clarified. Ajax lit up and nodded, confirming with a sweet hum. He quickly went back to his drawings. Zhongli hovered in the room, tidying it up a bit while Ajax played. He wandered around after, cleaning up the rest of the apartment as well. He wasn’t sure what Ajax needed, if he needed anything at all. Zhongli was dusting a bookcase when he turned around and suddenly Ajax was behind him. “Celestia,” he gasped, “I didn’t hear you.”

“… mm,” Ajax looked down at his feet shyly and full of hesitancy.

“Ajax…?” Zhongli took a small step closer, “Did you need something?” A flash of fear appeared on Ajax’s face and he shook his head vehemently. Zhongli stared for a moment, a sense of anger boiling under his skin. “Ajax,” Zhongli gently tipped the child’s head up, “You can ask for help little one, that’s why I stayed.”

“D-don’t… don’t wanna be trouble,” he mumbled trying to look away again. “Mm, not trouble.”

“You are no trouble sweet thing,” Zhongli soothed, despite the rage inside him. Was this… was this how they all felt growing up? That they were trouble for asking to things? For asking for help? “What do you need baobao?”

“Bao… bao?” Ajax’s face scrunched up but he giggled at the word. Zhongli crooned, smiling as he pet the boy’s head. The laughter stopped when Ajax’s stomach growled loudly. He looked down at it, like it betrayed him.

“Oh,” Zhongli checked the time, “Is it already time for lunch? I am sorry, I should’ve kept an eye on the time.” Zhongli ushered a bewildered Ajax into the kitchen. He sat the boy in a chair and started to cook something nutritious. Ajax stared at him the whole time in absolute wonder. Ajax devoured the meal Zhongli had made with gusto. The boy was starry eyed every time he looked at Zhongli. After the meal, Zhongli was pulled to play with Ajax in the room and it filled Zhongli with joy.

The rest of the day was spent playing and eating snacks. After dinner, Zhongli corralled a much more exuberant Ajax into the bathroom. He helped the boy fill the tub with warm water and waited to see what the child would do. Being as old as he was, he was unsure about the capabilities of human children. Adepti children had many more faculties that humans of the same mental age. A six year old was like a newborn in his eyes, just a small, helpless, innocent thing. He knew humans grew faster, considering their shorter lifespan, but was an six year old able to bathe themselves? Did they require supervision? He was sure he remembered Ganyu licking her own fur at this age.

Ajax leaned over the tub and playfully splashed around, still fully dressed. Zhongli blinked a few times, realizing that no, Ajax should not bathe alone. If anything, it seemed that Ajax was developmentally behind, not that was his fault, but perhaps his upbringing or family.

“Ajax, do you want to get in?” Zhongli asked gently, so not to spook the boy.

“Mmm,” he hummed and shuffled closer to Zhongli, looking up at him with pleading eyes. Zhongli was warmed by how quickly the boy started to trust him. Perhaps it was a result of his previous relationships with Tartaglia and Childe that sped the process up, or maybe the undivided attention he was able to provide. “Bath, bath, bath,” he babbled, clearly excited.

“Do you like baths?” Zhongli asked, gently popping the buttons of Ajax’s, well Childe’s previous shirt, open.

“Mm, yeah,” he nodded, “Don’t get ‘em a lot, so I like ‘em.”

“You don’t get to take baths often?” Zhongli pried carefully.

“No,” he whined, “Chilly doesn’t let me, ‘cause I’mma alone.”

“How… how often do you get to come out?” Zhongli asked, feeling a pang in his heart. Ajax pouted, and then shook his head a few times, like he didn’t understand. “How often do you get to play with your toys?” Zhongli asked again, changing the approach.

“One time?” Ajax looked befuddled, like he was trying to remember a word, “One a month. W-when Chilly doesn’t have to go… I get ‘ta play for a few… hours.”

“Only… a few hours?” Zhongli whispered, pausing in his task of undressing Ajax.

“Mmhmm,” Ajax nodded, “Yeah, c-can’t be alone. B-but Lili, is fun, so maybe…” he trailed off, looking up at Zhongli.

“Lili…?” Zhongli murmured, feeling a happiness overwhelm him, “Is that me?”

“Mm, Lili,” he nodded, “Lili… um, Lili maybe… could… um.”

“Maybe I could come play with you more often, mm?” Zhongli finished the boy’s thoughts, “That way you aren’t alone, and everyone else can take a rest.” Zhongli cuddled the little boy to him and hummed, “We can cook together, and play anytime you want, okay baobao?”

“Please,” Ajax gasped, his blue eyes wet.

Zhongli had a tough time bathing him after that. Ajax wanted nothing more than to cling to his new friend the rest of the evening. After bathing him, and finding a soft set of pjs in the so called storage room, they played for a bit more before Zhongli had to pull the boy to the bedroom to sleep. He tucked him in, and regaled a tale from ancient Liyue. A story about a little boy befriending a dragon. Ajax was asleep before the story was finished, a whole court of plush animals surrounding him. Zhongli rested his head on another pillow, just wanting to stay for a moment more. He should have known better, as he dozed and fell into a deep sleep himself.

—

Tartaglia woke up with a start. He really hadn’t meant to get that worn out. He felt bad for forcing Childe to take the lead again. He grunted, sitting up in bed. Something dug into his hand, and when he picked it up, his heart skipped a beat. Ajax’s toys. They were in the bed. He quickly took stock of their body. He was uninjured other than the ones he had accidentally caused, and he wasn’t in day clothes. He was hungry, but not starving. Had they gotten lucky, and Ajax felt older than normal?

He slowly got out of bed, surprised that he felt so good. He was worried, but there was some sort of calmness to their system. He did try to look inwards, but it appeared Ajax was tucked back away, out of his reach. Tartaglia walked out of the bedroom yawning. Childe wasn’t going to let him hear the end of this. He just hoped Ajax hadn’t freaked out too much. He walked out into the kitchen, wanting to at least get a cup of tea before he sorted through what ever mess was left in the apartment.

“Awake already baobao? I made breakfast.”

Tartaglia froze and looked up to find Zhongli in their kitchen, ladling some sort of white porridge into bowls. Zhongli looked up at him, and tilted his head to the side in question.

“Baobao? Ajax, what’s wrong?” Zhongli asked, staring at him. “Oh… Good morning Tartaglia,” Zhongli looked a bit stunned as he spoke. “Is Ajax alright?” He asked, eyes soft with concern. Tartaglia felt his heart beat rapidly. When had Zhongli come over? Had he… had Zhongli stayed the entire night with Ajax? “Tartaglia?” Zhongli’s soft look turned into a frown and he crowded the man. Zhongli traced his gloved fingers over their face, checking him for injury in that endearing way, the way he always did.

“You… you know about Ajax,” Tartaglia said slowly, snapping out of his haze.

“Yes,” Zhongli nodded once, “Such a sweet boy. He… I think he enjoyed playing for longer periods of time.” Tartaglia blinked at the statement. Was that Zhongli’s way of scolding them?

“We… can’t let him be on his own for too long,” Tartaglia hesitantly explained. He was a bit unsure on what his and Childe’s affectionate and potentially romantic partner thought of everything. “He’s too young to take care of himself,” he muttered.

“Well,” Zhongli turned back to the food on the counter, “That is why his Lili would have to watch him, mm?” Zhongli looked so proud when he said it. Tartaglia swallowed harshly. He was getting emotional. That was Childe’s thing, not his. “Childe mentioned you had little siblings,” Zhongli hummed, “Four, he said… but I’ve only heard the names of three. Ajax is your last little star, is he not?”

“Uh… yes,” Tartaglia said slowly, “He’s… Childe watches him more than I do,” he deflected, taking a bowl from Zhongli. “He’s… young. I’m not great with him or our siblings.”

“May I ask… why he’s so young?” Zhongli asked gently, a hand sweeping across Tartaglia’s back. Only this man would treat him so tenderly. Only Zhongli could get away with it.

“Ajax… Ajax hovers around the age where we alters emerged,” Tartaglia sat down at the table, spooning a bit of porridge into his mouth.

“When you emerged?” Zhongli curiously hummed, “Does that mean…?”

“Our host name is Ajax,” Tartaglia sighed, “The name our mother gave us. He’s… the host, we think? He’s what’s left of us after everything.”

“I do not wish to push you,” Zhongli murmured, taking Tartaglia’s hand, “But I cannot deny that I am curious, as to what made you emerge.”

“If you had asked Childe or Ajax they may have started to cry,” Tartaglia warned, “I don’t care as much, I guess. Childe was the first alter to appear. Ajax… we are the middle child in a family of nine. We were born too late to be close to our older siblings and the damage was done by the time our younger ones came around. Childe emerged to make sure we were taken care of. Ajax learned not to ask for anything, not to be a nuisance, not to take up space. Childe was there to take care of our basic necessities, if that meant charming the granny next door, he’d do it. He may not seem it, but he’s always been the provider of our system. His methods have changed over the years, since now he has resources, a job, income. He spoils us as much as he can. You’ve probably noticed that Childe is the one that likes to do our shopping, that he’s the one that buys gifts for us. He buys Ajax toys and clothes, he likes to buy me more useful implements. Leather gloves, elixirs, new knives. Le…” Tartaglia caught himself.

“Leggy?” Zhongli asked gently, “Ajax spoke of him, but.. never went into detail.”

“Legacy,” Tartaglia sighed heavily, “Ajax trusted you much too quickly.”

“Mm, maybe so,” Zhongli chuckled, “But I am honored to be his Lili.”

“Do not abuse that trust,” Tartaglia warned.

“So, how does Childe spoil Legacy?” Zhongli crooned.

“Meat, food… um,” Tartaglia paused.

“Legacy is not human, is he?” Zhongli pushed.

“No, he’s not,” Tartaglia shook his head, feeling a weird pins and needles sensation.

“Then he would clearly like other things than a human would,” Zhongli said pleasantly. How did this man exist? A man that just simply accepted all of their parts, like it was normal. He treated them all so human. It never ceased to surprise him, how adaptable Zhongli was. How kind he was to them.

“Blood,” Tartaglia sighed, “He and I… I enjoy it in a different way than him. I like fighting, I like the way it sticks to my skin. The color the scent of it.”

“And Legacy?” Zhongli, grasped Tartaglia’s hand, rubbing small circles in it.

“He likes… to bathe in it, drink it,” Tartaglia muttered.

“Childe does indeed spoil you,” He hummed, not a wisp of judgement in his eyes. “Childe is your provider, and you, how did you come to be my warrior?”

“Our… our Pa is a bit of a violent drunk,” Tartaglia hissed, “I’m… I’m here to take that.”

“And yet, you’ve seemed to evolved as Childe has,” Zhongli leaned in closer, comforting him, even though Tartaglia did not need it.

“I learned to fight back,” Tartaglia shrugged, “But, that… that didn’t really settle in until we were fourteen, when, when we gained Legacy.” Tartaglia rolled his neck, thinking back to all those years ago. “Zhongli,” he said plainly, “You seem to take every word as fact, but would you believe me that… that there’s a rift in the rocks… that the time moves differently… that-“

“That monsters roam freely?” Zhongli stole the words from his mouth, “I suspected you had been to abyss.”

“You… know of it?” Tartaglia’s eyes went wide.

“I do,” Zhongli murmured, “And I am amazed and truly grateful that you made it home every moment our eyes meet.” Zhongli cupped Tartaglia’s cheek, pulling him a bit closer. Their lips brushed together chastely and Tartaglia found himself winding his arms around Zhongli. Childe was going to be pissed off. He got the first kiss. “You do not have to speak of it more, if you do not wish to,” Zhongli nuzzled Tartaglia’s neck.

“I don’t mind,” Tartaglia sighed, “But while I fought for us… down there, I wasn’t enough. I got us into the first month, but… Abyss made Legacy, not us. He’s other. He’s us, but he isn’t. He does… he protects us as a last resort, and I know… I know he cares for us, in his own, strange way. He’s conscious, he does speak on occasion. He’s very similar to me, but, dare I say,” he laughed dryly, “more unhinged.”

“I see,” Zhongli traced a finger down Tartaglia’s arm, “I’m sure I would adore him as much as I adore the three of you.”

“I don’t know,” Tartaglia mumbled, “He has a track record of breaking people.”

“I doubt he could truly handle me,” Zhongli said with a huff. Tartaglia looked at the man. He did wonder, what exactly Zhongli was. He had assumed for the longest time the man was human. Until he saw him fight. He was overpowered, and as much as that thrilled Tartaglia, he wasn’t dumb enough to write it off. Zhongli had to be some sort of Adeptus. He knew a bunch of them, and he was so knowledgeable. Tartaglia was sure that Zhongli wouldn’t come clean to him though. There was a reason that he was hiding it. The truth would come to light eventually.

And come to light it did.

Childe’s entire world crashed around him as he watched Zhongli had the gnosis to Signora. Zhongli had played them for a fool. Such a fool. Childe couldn’t do it, he couldn’t face Zhongli anymore. That despicable man, no that despicable archon abused his trust. Abused his blooming affections for his own gain. As the tears started to cloud his vision, Child gave up, forcing Tartaglia out instead.

Tartaglia wasn’t handling it much better, but at least he had a reign on his emotions. How disgusting. He had let himself be blinded and played by f*cking Rex Lapis himself. He could feel Legacy roiling under their skin, but not strong enough after the battle at Golden House. Zhongli looked so serene. He did not say a word to Tartaglia. He was ignored. Letting the anger boil up, he yelled, and cursed and spat at Zhongli before storming out into the misty night.

Of course Childe f*cked it up. Got them all attached to an ancient Archon that thought they were nothing more than a tool. Tartaglia laughed bitterly as he stalked through the night. He was a tool, he had once prided himself on that. And what better way to sharpen a tool, than to kill, to shed blood. Even though he was exhausted from releasing Osial, even though he was bruised and battered, he pushed himself forward, throwing himself on enemy after enemy.

Blood flood down his arms like wine, staining the grass. Tartaglia felt a tug, and Childe took his place. Childe wailed, and cried, digging his fingers in the dirt. Childe found a flower in his grasp, a glaze lily. With a streak of anger, he combed the entire field, uprooting flower after flower. It was a petty act of revenge, but that was just fine with Childe. He hoped Zhongli knew it was him, next time he came to sing to the glaze lilies.

The night passed in a blur, then the next day, and the next. No one knew who was fronting, no one knew what was really going on. They all just wanted to go home, leave Liyue, the place they had come to love, yet was now covered in bitter memories. Childe was packing up their apartment, throwing away anything unnecessary. Chopstick from Zhongli, a poor excuse for a gift. Trash. A children’s book about Rex Lapis. Trash.

Chilly… I wanna play with Lili…

Childe froze and heat began to build behind his eyes, “No Ajax, we’re going home.”

B-but Lili is here

“Ajax,” Childe said firmly, “We aren’t going to see him ever again. He hurt us. If we do see him, Legacy will tear him apart.”

No, no, no, no, no, I want Lili!

Ajax, stop it. You know we have our best interest in mind. You know I’m protecting you, Childe is too. He betrayed us, made a fool of us. We will never see that slimy lizard again.

B-but he played with me… he like…liked me.

It was a lie.

No, Lili wouldn’t lie!

“He did. End of discussion,” Childe balled up the towel he was holding a threw it against the wall. Ajax fell silent, but they could all feel his sadness. It hurt, to hurt him like this, but, it was for the best, wasn’t it?

—

Snezhnaya was as cold and bitter as he remembered it. Settling back in had been like breathing, easy. Tartaglia was exhausted though. Everyone was sulking still, and Childe was having a hard time controlling his emotions. Ajax was still not talking to them, and Legacy only offered hums on occasion. Tartaglia was sitting at their desk, twirling hydro throwing knives in his fingers, and throwing them at the wall repeatedly.

“Oh goodness,” Pulcinella gasped, as he opened the door and another knife embedded itself in the wall. “Dear boy, you must treat the palace with more respect,” he tutted, closing the door.

“It’s my office,” Tartaglia growled, “I’ll do as I please.”

“Ah, Tartaglia, boy,” Nella sighed, “You have been… out and about more often than not, mm?”

“What do you want old man?” he hissed, throwing another knife.

“You are the only one fronting,” he pointed out, “Little Ajax hasn’t even come out to show me his new toys from Liyue… Childe will not take tea with me. I think I should be asking you, what you want.”

“What?” He barked out a laugh, “You think I’m suppressing them? Think again, I’m the only one that’s willing to front, so you can f*ck off.”

“They… won’t front?” Pulcinella asked, concern etching in his features. “Tartaglia, what’s going on dear boy?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, averting his eyes.

“Oh my, even you’re bothered by something,” he sighed, “Come now, tell old Nella what happened to my boys.”

“We got played,” Tartaglia hissed, balling his hands into fists. “Played like a archon damned fiddle.”

“Even… you?”

“f*ck,” Tartaglia gasped, “Yes, even me.”

“Who did this?” He asked with a frown, “I’ll have their head on platter in the morning.”

“Rich,” Tartaglia scowled, “You can’t do it. Not when… He didn’t have to pretend to like us, to understand us, when all he wanted to for us to f*cking fulfill his damn contract.”

“… Tartaglia, you are not implying…?”

“f*cking Rex Lapis,” Tartaglia bit out, “I’ll be the one to kill him one day. Put his head on a spike. He made us… he made Childe cry, and Ajax… Ajax is upset now.”

“Tartaglia,” Nella placed a small wrinkled hand on his knee, “He hurt you too, didn’t he?” The mayor let out a breath and said, “I will handle this, tell my other boys to not worry. Uncle Nella will handle this for you all.”

“Old man, do not,” Tartaglia warned, “If you go after him… if he… he does anything to you Childe and Ajax won’t… they won’t recover.”

“Pish posh,” he waved Tartaglia off, “I have my ways, do not fret.”

Days passed after that ominous statement, and Tartaglia was wondering if the old man had bit off more than he could chew. It didn’t matter, after all, he would one day reign vengeance down upon the archon. Legacy hummed oddly at the thought. Tartaglia frowned at that. It wasn’t a hum of agreement like he expected.

“What?” He asked the beast quietly, “Don’t you want to rip him to shreds, he’d probably be an excellent fight.” Legacy made that strange noise again, and Tartaglia could almost feel him shifting in their mind.

NO.

“Excuse me?” Tartaglia couldn’t help but laugh. He kept walking down the corridor ignoring the odds looks he received.

STRONG.

“Are you implying we can’t beat him?” Tartaglia snarled, “We always get stronger. He’s only weakening now.” Legacy let out a sound in his mind that almost sounded like an exasperated sigh, if it were for the strange churr behind it all. “Talk to me straight, you aren’t making any sense.”

STRONG ENOUGH FOR US. FOR YOU, FOR ME. MATE.

Tartaglia stopped dead in the hall, and to grasp the wall so his knees wouldn’t buckle. He nearly choked on the air he was breathing. Legacy was still f*cking fond of the lizard, after everything. This was insane. Fine, he’d just put a man’s head on a pike himself. He got moving again and headed to train, hopefully there was something more challenging than a bunch of recruits to fight there.

As he stalked down the open air hall leading to the training grounds, he passed her Majesty’s garden. On the rare occasion, the Tsaritsa could be spotted taking tea there in the middle of the snowfall. With a cursory glance, he spotted her. She was with someone else though. His gait slowed to a stop.

Two sets of eyes met his. Her Majesty’s icy blue and warm amber. He tried to move to get away, to stop being pinned under those gazes. Rex Lapis stood quickly, struggling to cross through the snow, her Majesty covering his lips to hide a delicate laugh. With his pants dampened from the snow, Morax stood a few feet from him, and the Tsaritsa stood by his side, hands elegantly crossed in front of her.

“Your Majesty,” Tartaglia sunk into a bow, ignoring the other man.

“Rise my eleventh,” she chimed, “This is no formal audience.” He followed he instructions, keeping his eyes on her, and only her. “You have questions, dear,” she stated simply.

“Yes, but it is not my place to question the… company,” he spat viciously, “That her Majesty keeps.”

She let out a small sigh, “Oh dear, it appears the mayor was not exaggerating.” She took a few steps forward, the cold worsening upon her approach. “I do not wish to interfere, if you truly wish this to be done. I do feel as if, I owe you some kindness my dear boys,” she ran a freezing hand across his cheek.

“You… you should not have to make up for my mistakes, my friend,” Zhongli finally spoke, looking at Tartaglia with such sadness in his eyes. “Your Tsaritsa offered me the chance to apologize to you,” he murmured, “I… to all of you. You do not have to accept, but please, my treasures, I need to speak with you all, even if it is the last time.”

“Get it over with,” Tartaglia hissed, crossing his arms defiantly.

“It was never my intention to make it seem, to make you feel, as if our relationship was built on lies. I do understand how you came to that conclusion after the incident. I was omitting many truths, and while it was not intentional, I hurt you by hiding them,” Zhongli rambled, wringing his hands together. “But… Tartaglia,” Zhongli raised his eyes, “Would you have been able… able to try to take my gnosis, if you had known?” Tartaglia froze, his eyes slid to the Tsaritsa, who was simply observing him.

“I do not know,” he said with clenched teeth.

“My sweet eleventh,” she sighed, “You still think so much with your heart. Which is why I stipulated in our contract, that you would not be told. You had to remain willing to execute my orders without fault.” He looked at her in surprise, trying to formulate a response. “Oh Tartaglia,” she tutted, like a doting mother, “I was once know as the goddess of love, do you think, I would overlook the possibility?”

“Your… your Majesty,” he mumbled, shocked.

“Tartaglia,” Zhongli took another step closer. Close enough that Tartaglia could smell the petrichor that emanated from his being. “You… are the lights of my life. I grew so eager to retire, knowing that the rest of my life I would be free to spend with you. I was able to shed my mantle because of your hard work, your dedication. I wanted to repay you in kind,” he confessed quietly, each word carefully placed, like he was attempting to glue together a broken tea cup. “Without you, I am aimless, you have cracked what was considered a stone heart, and convinced it to beat again. Your laughs, your smiles, your wildness brings me such joy, and I could fathom, not seeing them once more.” Zhongli took a long and shuddering breath. “You may not believe me,” he shook his head slowly, “But you have taught me how to live again, and every moment with you, shines like the brightest gold in memory. I would like to live my life for you, if you would allow me to.”

Tartaglia was struggling, he wanted to believe it so badly. He wanted to believe that Zhongli loved them all. That this was one huge misunderstanding. He didn’t get the chance to make up his mind. Childe forced his way to the front, throwing them at Zhongli. Zhongli caught them with ease and Tartaglia was just along for the ride.

“f*ck you,” Childe cried, clinging to the man, “You better make it up to me! To all of us!”

“Oh my treasures,” Zhongli breathed, “I will spend my entire life doing that. You are my entire life.”

Chapter 2: Opposite Ends

Chapter Text

Zhongli knew that he was still on thin ice with Tartaglia. Childe had seemingly forgiven most of his transgressions, even if they were still loitered above his head. He could live with that, as long as his precious boys were back in his arms, safe and sound. He did not know how the other two felt about him though. No one had spoken a word about Ajax in the day that he had been staying in Zapolyarny, and he had still never had the pleasure of meeting Legacy.

After a small feast in their suite, Childe had pulled him to bed. The man snuggled up and the crook of his neck, and let out little hot puffs of air. He sleepily commented on how warm his chest felt now, how an icy void had been filled. Zhongli purred softly as the young man rambled about how comfortable and happy he was. The small vibrations soothing him sleep.

Childe was still nuzzled up against him, an arm slung over Zhongli’s chest, clutching him like a teddy bear when the morning came. Zhongli kissed his head as many times as he could, simply happy to feel his darling in his arms once more. Childe made a sleepy complaint as his eyes scrunched up against the sun reflecting on the blankets of snow outside the window.

“Good morning,” Zhongli rumbled, voice deep and raspy. Childe stiffened in his arms, all his muscles tensing. “Darling?” Zhongli murmured, carding his hand through Childe’s locks. Then there was a small hiccup, then a wetness sprinkled across his shoulder. Then a heart wrenching sob. “Childe, treasure?” Zhongli struggled to sit up, bring Childe with him.

“Lili!” Ajax sobbed and clawed into his clothes like a frightened kitten.

“Ajax,” Zhongli blinked, taking a moment to process. “Ajax, baobao what’s wrong? Hush little one, let me see you.” Ajax hugged him tighter, and shook his head, burying his face into Zhongli’s neck. Zhongli let him cry, rocking him slowly back and forth, petting his ginger curls.

“Lili,” he hiccuped after his tears started to subside, “Here, Lili’s here,” he muttered, “Ch-chilly and Taggy said w-we couldn’t see Lili.” Ajax finally peeled away, his eyes red and his skin blotchy.

“Shh,” Zhongli used his shirt’s sleeve to dry the tears, “Childe and I have made up baobao,” he murmured, “Tartaglia… is hesitant, but I think we’re getting better.”

“Not fair!” Ajax whimpered, tugging at the blankets, “I wanted Lili! W-why did they- why did they?” He started to cry again, a high keen coming from the little boy’s throat.

“I know, I know,” Zhongli pulled him closer, “You were scared, weren’t you?” Ajax nodded his head weakly. “Ajax, my sweet little one,” he murmured, “Did you know, that I am the god of contracts?” Ajax sniffled loudly but shook his head no. “I propose a contract baobao,” he hummed, “I promise to you, that no matter what, that no matter where you are Ajax, I will follow. I will love you, and care for you my sweet bun. You never have to be scared again, hmm? I will always be there to protect you. I swear it, or may I face the wrath of the rock.”

“No, no,” Ajax pouted, “No rocks!” He huffed and grabbed Zhongli’s hand, “Pinky promise! It’s the only promise that works,” he grumbled, looking quite serious about the whole thing. Zhongli, offered his hand to the boy and Ajax chanted, “Pinky promise keep it all your life. You break a pinky promise, I throw you on ice. The cold will kill the pinky that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again!”

“My,” Zhongli blinked in surprise, “What a very thorough contact! I accept my sweet boy.” Ajax’s face lit up in a smile, and he tackled Zhongli into the bed again. They laid like that for some time, Ajax finding it in him to sleep for a while more, the tears tuckering him out. Zhongli laid there, stroking the small boy’s back, taking the enormity of relief he felt. It shook him to the core that night when he could not find his precious darlings. When they disappeared into the night, when he found the blood, not knowing to whom it belonged to. Finding the glaze lilies uprooted, red smears staining their delicate petals. When he cracked and forced his way into their home, only to find it abandoned, a pile of gifts lain on the floor, disposed of.

His heart had shattered, but that was not for him to grieve, for he realized, just how much more his treasures were hurting. How much he had hurt them. There had most certainly been a period of self-loathing. He had a difficult time finding his next steps. His boys were so precious to him, what if he hurt them again? What right did he have to snake his way into their lives once more, when he had been so obviously cut out of it?

Receiving a missive from Albina had been both a heart-quaking and humbling experience. He had never felt so utterly cowed before. He had underestimated the sheer amount the goddess of ice adored her Harbingers, and particularly her eleventh. It was as if he had received a letter from a mother, rather than his fellow god. She had laid out a mighty ultimatum for him, and he quite obviously chose to try once more. If his sweets did not accept his sincerest apologies, then as demanded, he would bow out of their lives, only to watch from afar, despite how his heart ached for them.

Zhongli was shook from his reminiscing by a short knock upon the door. Hesitantly, he looked down at the sleeping bundle in his arms, then back at the door. The knock repeated, a bit firmer this time. Ajax was in such a delicate state, that Zhongli did not wish for him to wake up alone again. He wrapped the blankets tightly around the young boy and hefted him up in one arm. He had not been able to explore the suite much, but he did know that the door the knocking was on led to the sitting and office area. With a slow motion he opened the door.

“Goodness Tartaglia,” a tiny old man huffed, “You never sleep this late. I brought…” the words died on the man’s lips, as Zhongli blinked slowly down at him. His face firmed up from its shock and his hands came to rest on his hips. “I see Her Majesty followed through,” he tipped his chin up. “And that he has chosen to allow you back into his life.”

“Some have, some are hesitant,” Zhongli confessed, feeling it would be appreciated more than an oblique blanket statement.

“As is their right,” the man scolded, “Just because you are a god does not mean you will escape our fury if a single one of those boys comes crying to us about you again.”

“Yes,” Zhongli bowed his head, “I understand much more now, than I think I ever have before. He has taught me much, but there is still much more for me to learn. About him, about myself and about how to truly love.”

“A part of me wishes you were not so reasonable,” he growled, “I wished to truly show you a piece of my mind. He would be cross with me though, I assume. Which one woke up to you this morning? Tartaglia, I presume? He is only one I have seen in weeks.”

“Ah,” Zhongli gasped, “He must be very tired then. No, I believe he is resting, as is Childe. Ajax came out this morning, but tuckered himself out fairly fast.”

“Ajax,” he sighed with nod, “I’ll have them clear a few hours this morning, as I assume you know, Ajax does not partake in Harbinger activities.”

“Only a few hours?” Zhongli asked, a frown working his way on to his face. “I believe a few days would better suffice.”

“Ajax only spends a few hours out at a time,” the short man said with a matching frown.

“Ah, I see your confusion,” Zhongli nodded, “Ajax tends to stay out longer when I am near. The others do not worry over him as much, and it allows them to rest. Given the intensity of the situation, and how taxing it must have been on Tartaglia, I think Ajax will stay fronting for at least a few days while the others recover.”

“Mphm,” he crossed his arms, “We shall see about that, but I will have them clear his schedule for today at the least. There is breakfast in the kitchen,” he gestured to another door, “Tell Ajax that Grandpa Nella will check on him later.” There was most definitely a mild threat laced in those words. It made sense, Childe had spoken highly of Pullicnella, and clearly the mayor was protective of the system, as much as Zhongli was.

“Understood,” Zhongli bowed his head politely, “It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I shall relay your message.” The harbinger sighed heavily, but let himself out of the room without much more fuss. Zhongli shifted his focus back to the darling in his arms, who was still sleeping, drooling on his shirt. Zhongli couldn’t help but purr in contentment, all was right again. His beloved boys were safe, resting as they needed to, taking their time to recover while he protected their most precious piece.

He couldn’t bring himself to set Ajax down, so he wandered the rooms, rocking him gently with every step. There were hints of every alter, expect for one, scattered across the suite. Childe had very obviously commandeered an entire room to act as a closet and vanity station. He had never seen the alter dress in the morning, but he could always tell Childe took great care of his appearance. He enjoyed that Childe indulged in finer things, and forced the others to as well. He assumed they had never been allowed to when they were young.

There was a very small room, with a lock on the inside. He knew it was to keep the smallest alter safe, but it did hurt him to think of his beloveds locking themselves in a room, just so no one would hurt their youngest member. It was littered with books and toys, a soft mat covering the floor. A smiled tugged at his lips when he recognized some of the plush toys that had been brought along to Liyue. Overall, while small, Zhongli could appreciate the coziness of the limited space, he himself was a fan of nesting in a burrow or cavern. It felt protected. He assumed that was what the older alters were aiming for with this safe space for Ajax.

Near their main office was a room clearly for Tartaglia. Weapons hung neatly in the wall, all polished to a shine. A boxing sandbag hung from the ceiling and a few weights were scattered in the floor. Zhongli wondered if Tartaglia ever had a hard time sitting still. He realized it was rare to see the man doing anything that wasn’t active, or at the very least mentally complex. He could understand that, the anxious energy that boiled under the skin of a warrior. It had taken Zhongli many years to fully mellow out, but he could still remember the vibration under his very scales, bidding him to fight, to keep going.

Legacy was the only one that did not seem to have a place. Zhongli was rather curious about the illusive alter. He had heard second hand from the traveller about the physical transformation his appearance triggered. That it turned the redhead into… well, the traveller had said a monster, but he doubted any piece belonging to his darlings was a true monster. Legacy may appear monstrous, but was a dragon not also considered a monster? He wondered what the people of Mondstat truly thought about dragons as of late. No, Legacy was not a monster, but he was not a human. Zhongli had no intention of treat him as a human. He had a feeling, if Legacy would show himself, that the two of them would get along better than Childe or Tartaglia could fathom. They were both beasts at heart. Animalistic, it would seem.

“Lili,” Ajax whined in his arms, blinking his sweet, sleepy eyes. “Mm not supposed ta be in here… Taggy gonna get mad,” he whined, but there was a curiosity in his eyes.

“Taggy won’t be upset darling,” Zhongli soothed, “Not when I am here to watch you. He is right, that this is not a room to play in though,” Zhongli reminded him gently, “So it is best we close the door, and perhaps get something to eat. Are you hungry baobao?”

Ajax’s eyes lit up and he nodded, “Please?” Zhongli smiled indulgently, and pressed and gentle kiss to Ajax’s forehead. Ajax did not ask to be let down, so Zhongli did not bother to offer. He carried the young one towards the kitchen, where the food left by Pulcinella was left.

“Ah, Ajax,” he murmured, “Grandpa Pulcinella said he wishes to see you later.” Ajax puffed out his cheeks and shook his head no. “Oh? Why do you not wish to see him?”

“Pappy makes me do reading and boring stuff,” he grouched, looking adorable all the while, “Lili is funner, Lili does stuff with me!”

“Oh?” Zhongli chuckled, “Learning to read is important Baobao. I love reading, it is a favorite pastime of mine.”

“Then Lili can read to me!” He pointed out, as Zhongli situated him in a chair. Zhongli laughed softly as he cut up Ajax’s food on a smaller, plastic plate he found in the cabinet.

“What would you like to drink my sweet?” Zhongli laughed, shaking his head. A confused look passed over Ajax’s face. “What is it baobao, you can ask me anything?”

“… I mm,” Ajax was clearly struggling to vocalize his feelings, which did concern Zhongli, but he waited patiently, not wanting to force the boy before he was ready. “I… get ta choose?” He asked, garbled in his words, like he suddenly got younger.

“Oh Ajax,” Zhongli’s heart sunk in understanding. “Yes my dear, here, let us see what options we have, and you can pick which one. It’s no trouble at all.” Zhongli smoothed back Ajax’s curls, with a heavy heart. It saddened him to know that even though Ajax was comfortable with him, it still wasn’t enough to overwrite the urge to not cause trouble, to simply let everyone else do as they pleased, as long as Ajax didn’t get in the way. “Here, we have some milk, water, ah tea I believe, though I do not think the caffeine would be good for you, and, there is some sunesstia juice.” Zhongli knew which choice was a winner by the way Ajax perked up. The boy let out a peel of laughter when Zhongli pulled the juice out.

“Lili reads minds!” He gasped, kicking his legs in delight.

“Only one glass, alright? Then milk or water sweet one,” Zhongli chuckled, pouring it into what he presumed were Ajax’s glasses. They seemed resistant to breaking, ideal for a child without complete control of their motor functions. Ajax eagerly took the cup and sipped in between bites of food. There was silverware for him, but Ajax chose to use his fingers, which did not bother Zhongli. He did prefer utensils in his human form, but eating from his claws was a very different experience that he greatly enjoyed.

Ajax ate around his plate, avoiding certain foods, which Zhongli took note of for the future. Other than occasional assist, Ajax was eating on his own just fine. The boy hummed a little song under his breath, kicking his legs back and forth. Zhongli took a moment to admire Ajax, how resilient the boy was. Zhongli could have never expected to find romantic and familial love wrapped up in one man, and yet, Ajax existed. He adored the boy like he was his own son, and that was something he never thought he would find.

“Ajax,” Zhongli called gently. The boy perked up and looked over at the dragon with big, glimmering eyes. “What would you like to do today? We don’t have any plans, after all.”

“Um,” Ajax stuck his fingers in his mouth, sucking on them while thinking. “I wanna see Uncle Moose. A-and I wanna see Aunty Acky, and then I wanna go to the fancy books.”

“My, that is quite the list little one,” Zhongli chuckled, “Well, where do you think we can find your Aunty and Uncle?”

“Mmmmm,” Ajax swung back and forth in his chair, “Aunty in her office, um, Moose, I don know… Moose finds me!”

“Mm, I see, and what of the fancy books?” Zhongli asked, clearing their plates.

“Big room, big, big, big,” Ajax chanted, “Down stairs!”

“I see, then maybe we will make that our last stop of the day, no?” Zhongli nodded along with the itinerary. “First, I see a little baobao that needs to get dressed,” Zhongli tapped his chin. Ajax let out a giggle and slid out of his seat. Zhongli took a few, slow steps closer, and Ajax screamed in delight, running away as Zhongli chased him through the suite.

After a few laps, Zhongli caught the boy, scooping him up in his arms. Ajax squealed and laughed, squirming in the ex-archon’s arms. Zhongli laughed along with him, but carried him to the bedroom, to dress for the day. It took a quite a deal longer than he expected, though it was rare for him to need to wrangle a child into multiple outfits, only to be told that he did not like them, and they weren’t comfy. While frustrating, Zhongli understood Ajax’s point of view. It was probably not exactly the same, but he had complained, and even refused to dress many times when he was just adapting to his human form. Guizhong wanted to toss him off a cliff, he just knew it.

Finally, after letting Ajax play for a little while, he found clothes tucked away in the bottom of a dresser. They were softer than the rest, more casual. He breathed a sigh of relief, it was very clear Ajax despised the pants Childe and Tartaglia normally wore. They were dress slacks, after all. Ajax glared at him when Zhongli approached with a new set of clothes. After some gentle coaxing, letting Ajax touch the fabric, and the promise he could take it off if it didn’t feel good; Zhongli successfully got the child dressed. He let out a little breath, feeling accomplished and feeling a new awe for human parents. His own parents did not have to do half the things he was currently participating in. His parents could have left him for a week or two, and he would have been just fine. Humans most definitely had it rough. Their young were so soft, squishy and vulnerable. What a terrifying prospect.

“Well, shall we take a walk Baobao?” Zhongli asked, sliding on a casual and comfortable pair of shoes on to Ajax’s feet.

“Mm,” Ajax nodded, swinging his legs and making it a bit difficult to secure the shoes.

“Would you like to bring anything with you?” Zhongli asked, getting up from his squat, and brushing off his brown slacks. Ajax stuck his hand in his mouth and sucked on his fingers for a second. Zhongli made a mental note to try to wash his hands more often but did not scold him. Ajax hopped up and grabbed one of the many stuffed toys he had brought out of his alcove to play with. Of course, it was the little narwhal. Zhongli noticed that Ajax favored that one above all others, but he had never heard the other alters speak of the creatures. He wondered where the fascination came from.

Ajax to show Zhongli, “Wally…”

“An excellent choice,” Zhongli nodded sagely, “Now, would you like to show me around the palace?”

“Yeah!” Ajax giggled and stomped his feet.

“Mm, well please hold my hand baobao,” Zhongli spoke watching Ajax’s expressions sour a little, “I am afraid I will get lost, it is such a large building.” That expression shifted to joy, and Ajax grabbed Zhongli’s hand with gusto. “Many thanks darling,” Zhongli crooned.

“Mmhmm,” Ajax nodded seriously, “Lili needs to stay with me, so Lili is safe!”

“Yes,” Zhongli agreed with a soft and sweet smile. Ajax grabbed on to Zhongli’s hand, and with the other, he held the narwhal plush to his chest. They exited the suite, and entered the private area of the palace, where only Harbingers and their closet associates were allowed. Zhongli was fairly sure no harm or surprises would befall Ajax, considering how confidently the boy walked down the hall.

They stopped by another suite and Ajax slapped his hand on the door a few times and waited. When now answer came he puffed out his cheeks in frustration. He squeezed his Narwhal tighter and looked at Zhongli imploringly. Zhongli reached over and knocked, just wanting to double check the inhabitant was not inside. Ajax pouted more the longer they waited.

“Ah Father isn’t in today,” a young voice said from down the hall. Ajax perked up immediately and tugged Zhongli into a run. Ajax let go of Zhongli’s hand and crashed in the other young man’s arms. “Whoa,” the blond boy laughed, crushing Ajax in a hug, “Not that I’m not happy to see you Ajax, but…” His eyes flickered wearily to Zhongli.

“Lili,” Ajax said as if it explained everything, “Linlin,” he said pointing at the young Fatuus.

“Ajax,” Zhongli rumbled fondly, “My name is Zhongli, I am a close… partner, of Childe and Tartaglia,” he offered his hand to ‘Linlin’.

“Lyney,” he said slowly, offering his own hand. “Close associate or not, I do not believe you have permission to be in this wing of the Palace. May I escort you to the public area? And then of course Ajax and I will wait for Sir Pullicnella.”

“No!” Ajax whined and tugged away from Lyney, “No, no, no, no, no! Lili stays!” He cried and wiggled his way out of Lyney’s arms and clung to Zhongli. His cerulean eyes filling with tears. Zhongli startled, but wrapped his arms tightly around Ajax, hushing him gently and rocking.

“Shh, shh,” he crooned, “We made a promise, did we not Ajax? I am not going anywhere baobao.” Lyney stood up to his full height, not that it was very impressive, and crossed his arms. He looked like he was getting ready to become much more confrontational, which would do no one any good, especially fragile Ajax. Time to nip this upstart in the bud, it would seem. “I assure you I have permission to wander these halls as I please,” Zhongli lifted his chin imperiously, “I would watch your tongue little cat, for if Albina would hear of your welcome to me, I surmise she would be rather cross.”

Lyney’s face paled at the name of his goddess, “Her… Her Majesty?”

“Mm, Lili, said he was a god… that’s like Nana, right?” Ajax asked, eyes wide and curious.

“Ah, yes little dumpling,” Zhongli purred, “But Lili needs you to keep that a secret okay? Just something we share, mm?”

“Okay!” Ajax giggled, eyes alight with excitement that he had special information.

“…Forgive my impudence,” Lyney still had glare in his eyes as he spoke.

“It is neither here nor there,” Zhongli waved it off, “I hold no sway over you, all I ask is you respect my time with little Ajax.”

“Ah… yes,” Lyney eyed him wearily.

Zhongli pleasantly smiled and squeezed Ajax’s hand, “Shall we continue our walk Baobao? I am sure we can meet your aunty later.”

“Mm!” Ajax nodded eagerly and tugged on Zhongli’s hand. “Bye bye Linlin!” He waved, dragging Zhongli down the hall. They left the young man behind and barreled through a set of double doors. The chill that hit him was like a jolt to his system. “Snow!” Ajax giggled and pulled Zhongli straight into a bank of icy cold powder.

“Ah… yes,” Zhongli nodded with a little grimace. He could already feel the shivers setting in. “Ajax… we are not dressed to play in the snow,” Zhongli gently spoke.

“Boo,” Ajax whined and climbed out of the bank, his pants soaking wet. “Chilly’s garden!” Zhongli tilted his head to the side, wondering if there was more to that claim. Ajax squatted down and patted the snow, packing it down.

“Why is this Chilly’s garden?” Zhongli asked, wondering if Ajax’s hands were freezing.

“Chilly’s favorite place,” Ajax said with a nod, “Uh… Chilly likes tea parties, and, and he wears a big, fancy coat!” Ajax was getting more excited the longer he talked. “Tea with Pappy, tea with Aunty Acky, tea with Aunty Bina, and sometimes Nana comes!” Ajax point out to a lovely glass (or perhaps it was made of ice) gazebo in the snow garden. It was similar to the one he had taken tea with Albina not long ago. This one seemed more intimate though, and there seemed to be a variety of plants under the blankets of snow. There also seemed to be some sort of heating devices near the gazebo, letting the average person enjoy the sight of snow.

“How lovely,” Zhongli hummed. He quite liked the idea of whisking Childe out here for tea one afternoon. Perhaps he should visit the kitchen and arrange a decadent lunch, accompanied by tea and sweets. Ajax said a fancy coat as well, he should consider visiting a tailor to commission a nice set of winter wear for himself, and maybe have one made for Childe to match. Tartaglia would balk at them, call them pansies or some other ridiculous name. He paused and thought, before asking, “Ajax, does Tartaglia have a favorite place?”

“Mmhmm,” he nodded with exaggerated enthusiasm. He didn’t look up from where he was creating balls of snow. “Taggy likes… um, big… field? Boring.”

“A training field?” Zhongli interpreted. That seemed very likely, perhaps he should offer to spar with Tartaglia, the man would have a blast. There was no need for him to hold back against Zhongli. He could go as wild as he wished to. He knew Tartaglia was still a bit hesitant about him, and this could very well clear the air between them. Violence was a language that Tartaglia spoke well, and Zhongli just needed a little refresher course. “Do you think you could show me that as well Ajax?” Zhongli asked, brushing some snow out off of the boy’s hair.

“Mm, okay,” he nodded, “If it makes Taggy happy…”

“Thank you Baobao,” Zhongli crooned and nuzzled the boy, “My, you’ve gotten cold!”

“Not as cold as Lili!” The child squealed the second Zhongli’s bare hands touched his skin. He squirmed out of his grip and back towards the door. “Chilly says it’s bad to get too cold! Lili is cold! Scary cold!” He gasped.

“Ah…” Zhongli nodded slowly, and was all but forced inside by the young one. “I apologize for scaring you, I do not create body heat,” he tried to explain to the panicking boy, but either it was too complex, or Ajax was not paying attention enough to understand. He was running around, digging blankets out of every nook and cranny, giving them to Zhongli. “Ajax, Ajax,” Zhongli caught him after the fifth blanket was given to him, “I am okay, shh, no need to worry.” Ajax blinked his watery eyes up at Zhongli, finally taking a moment to process. He nodded slowly and was engulfed in Zhongli’s arms. They stayed there, snuggled together for quiet moment.

—

Ajax was right, this was most certainly Tartaglia’s favorite room. Weapons lined the entryway, begging incoming visitors to wield them, to test their might. Ajax stayed clear of them, thankfully, but he became quieter and quieter as they entered the training arena.

“Baobao?” Zhongli asked gently, kneeling next to Ajax.

“Mmm,” Ajax fidgeted, not really listening to him.

“Ajax, is something wrong?” Zhongli pressed, rubbing his thumb over Ajax’s cheek.

“…Leggy… is takin’,” he said, looking over Zhongli’s shoulder, “Leggy, wants to meet Lili. But Taggy said he shouldn’t. But Taggy isn’t here. And Leggy is asking nice.”

“Would you be okay with Leggy coming out, and taking a little nap?” Zhongli asked gently, pushing Ajax’s hair out of his face.

“Leggy gotta promise no hurtin’ Lili,” Ajax pouted, crossing his arms.

“I will be alright, my sweet,” Zhongli assured him, pressing a kiss to Ajax’s forehead.

“Mmmph,” Ajax puffed his cheeks out, “‘Kay, Leggy can meet Lili, only ‘cause Lili is amazing, and everybody got to know that.”

“Thank you Baobao,” Zhongli crooned. Ajax wiggled his way out of Zhongli’s arms, and gave him some space. The air crackled with energy and Zhongli wasn’t sure what to expect, but it wasn’t this.

Stunned, was a good way to explain how Zhongli felt, when little Ajax disappeared and was replaced by a hulking creature. He stared up, stunned yes, but in awe. Traveller had described Legacy as something monstrous. This was not a monstrosity, this was elegance, a sophisticated predator. This was primal beauty.

And it left Zhongli speechless.

Legacy co*cked his head to the side. He did not speak, but Zhongli could hear his breathing. Zhongli admired Legacy’s armor like skin, the way he shared the other alters’ beautiful hair, that covered his head like a mane. The talons that were sharpened to deadly points, crackling with electricity. The blue gem like eye that kept him pinned in place. And that maw, one that rivaled his own, lined with fangs, and surely a tongue to match.

After a moment to catch his own breath, Zhongli decided to engage, “Legacy…” he could help but rumble. He found Childe and Tartaglia devastatingly attractive. Childe was so sweet, so soft, so pliable. Tartaglia was a challenge, one he would happily wrangle, and work him into a relaxed state, he make the warrior’s mind blank one day. Legacy appealed to him a different fashion, this being, could very well pin him. He would love to see it try. It sent such a shiver of anticipation up his spine.

“Zhongli,” Legacy said as if he was testing the sound on his tongue, he recoiled not liking it apparently.

“Do you not wish to call me that?” Zhongli questioned, tilting his head in a way that mimicked Legacy.

“No, no,” he edged closer, his talons scraping on the floor, “Weak, not weak.”

“I think I understand,” Zhongli purred, feeling his own fangs pull at his lips and fill his mouth. “Morax,” he chimed, “You want Morax, you want a battle.”

“Yessss,” Legacy hissed, tongue flickering out.

“I can give you that,” Zhongli churred, slinking closer to the humanoid beast. Zhongli shed his gloves and claws encased his fingertips. Those sharp nails skimmed over the armor covering Legacy’s arms, as Zhongli leaned in and smiled, showcasing his lovely fangs. Legacy shifted, but his eyes never left Zhongli. Legacy responded with a little growl, opening his own maw.

Without much warning Legacy lunged, teeth snapping on empty air, where Zhongli had previously been. Zhongli coiled out of the way, his body shifting to fit his needs, adapting, turning back into what he considered his natural form. Zhongli lifted his snout, flaunting his lovely bronze scales and his tail flicked in interest.

Legacy hissed and Zhongli hissed back. He wanted to see just what this creature was made of. The two clashed, teeth and claws meeting in a cacophony of violence. This was no strategic battle of wits, this was brute strength and instinct. Zhongli could not remember the last time any creature posed such a delightful challenge. There were no thoughts in his mind other than excitement.

He snarled as claws were raked up his flank, leaving wells of blood in their wake. He responded, sinking his teeth into Legacy’s shoulder, teeth cracking through the dense armor. Legacy howled and his taloned hands incased Zhongli’s snout, pushing them both to the ground.

They broke apart and met in a dance of destruction. Neither one cared what they broke along the way, they were solely focused on each other. Zhongli coiled his serpentine body around Legacy’s legs and squeezed, constricting like an ever tightening rope. Legacy barred his fangs and snatched the fluffy end of Zhongli’s tail. With an amazing show of strength, the beast yanked Zhongli into the air and slammed him to the ground.

Zhongli let out a sputtering cough as he ricocheted off the stone floor. His eyes widened when Legacy straddled him, claws digging into his throat and pushing him into the ground. Zhongli knew very well, he could win this fight if he wanted to. He was an ex-archon after all, but the allure of this creature had him holding back somewhat. This wasn’t just a fight to determine strength. It was a show of skill, a dance between the two to determine compatibility. Zhongli liked what he saw, liked the brute strength, the clawing desire to get stronger. Legacy, without a doubt, would lay his life on the line for his family and mate.

So Zhongli yielded.

Legacy, even though he could not emote much, looked pleased. A purring rumble built in his chest, and his grip loosened. Zhongli rested his head on the floor, lifting his neck. He wondered if Legacy would understand, if he could interpret a dragon’s body language. The beast leaned in and nuzzled him, tongue flicking over the wounds. Zhongli closed his eyes and let contentment wash over him. Legacy released his constricting grasp, and replaced it with gentle caress.

Zhongli found himself elated that the last part of his lover’s system accepted him. He would have never given up, even if he and Legacy did not see eye to eye. The three others would still be his treasures, but he was glad his instincts were correct, and one more treasure was added to his ever growing hoard.

Legacy manhandled Zhongli’s coils until they were circled around him. The large beast, wiped away the blood from weeping wounds, taking his time to catalogue every scratch he had given Zhongli, in a meticulously manner. Zhongli waited for a second, before shifting his body into a more hybrid form. His long tail still coiled around them, but he had a human form, to match Legacy. His horns bumped against the mask like covering of Legacy’s face.

Legacy churred, evidently pleased with the shift, and finally rumbled, “Morax…”

“Was that satisfactory?” Zhongli chuckled, tracing his talons over the smooth, alien surface of Legacy’s chest. “Have I won you over my fiend?” Legacy growled lowly and pushed their faces together. Zhongli crooned in the back of his throat, pressing idle kisses along the jagged jaw line his newest partner possessed. Zhongli was smaller in this form, and Legacy took advantage of it, wrapping his bigs hands around Zhongli, and tucking him into Legacy’s armored chest. Zhongli’s eyes slit into crescents, a constant purr spilling from his lips. Despite his massive size, Legacy was treating him gently, stroking his mild wounds and demanding more affections from Zhongli. The beast was curled around him protectively, and rubbed his chin up against Zhongli’s horns.

A relaxed sigh slipped from Zhongli’s lips. He had been rather frantic these past weeks. Not knowing where his treasures were, if they were safe or if they were hurting. Now knowing that Childe was healthy and recovering, that little Ajax still wanted to play, that Legacy accepted him as a partner was very soothing. He still worried over Tartaglia, but he hoped that with the other alters’ assistance, he would heal the burned timbers between them.

Legacy readjusted Zhongli in his hands, relieve any sort of stress on the dragon’s joints. The rhythmic churrs and breathing helped slow his heart rate, and soon he found himself nodding off in Legacy’s arms, the stress and exhaustion catching up to him. The tip of Legacy’s claws skimmed over Zhongli’s thigh, melting him further into Legacy’s grasp.

“Rest,” Legacy rumbled, “Heal.”

“Mm,” Zhongli blinked sleepily up at him, “If you insist…” he purred. Legacy leaned over and pressed their foreheads together, which sent Zhongli’s heart flip flopping his chest. Such a tender act of devotion. With a little more encouragement from Legacy, Zhongli nuzzled into the soft mane of red hair and fell into a peaceful sleep.

—

“Zhongli?! f*ck, f*ck,” Tartaglia sounded oddly panicked when Zhongli came back to consciousness. “Zhongli, wake up, f*ck, what… did he…?” Zhongli let out a little growl. It was cold now, definitely not as comfortable as it had been wrapped up in Legacy’s arms.

“… Tartaglia…?” Zhongli hissed, his voice a bit hoarse from his nonstop purring. He blinked his eyes open to find a harried Tartaglia hovering over him, eyes wide with frantic energy. He seemed to let out a breath he had been holding when Zhongli’s eyes flickered open.

“f*ck,” Tartaglia bit out, “I f*cked up, I really did, didn’t I?” He asked, clawing his hands into his hair.

Zhongli scrunched up his face, “Tartaglia, I do not understand, what is wrong…?” He sat up, hissing a bit at how sore he was from the battle, but it did nothing but please him. What a lovely reminder. His skin was marked and bruised from the battle, but all the open wounds had been cleaned and cared for by his gentle giant. He would savor it for as long as they lasted, until he could clash with Legacy again. Zhongli knew it was not practical or common for Legacy to appear, but he did hope they would be able to spend more moments together.

“I f*cking slipped up,” Tartaglia’s hands smoothed over Zhongli’s marred skin. This was concerning, Zhongli had never seen Tartaglia so shaken up. Zhongli frowned and sat up further, he bumped his head against Tartaglia’s, forcing the jittery man to focus on him.

“Breathe my warrior,” Zhongli rumbled, “Why are you so upset? Come, I do not like to see you this way. What has happened to upset you so?” Zhongli gently pried Tartaglia’s fingers from where they knotted into his hair.

“I’m… I’m supposed to keep him in check,” Tartaglia said with mounting horror, “And… I was so tired, and he…” Tartaglia’s voiced died in his throat, eyes clouding.

“You still seem very tired,” Zhongli murmured, gently pulling Tartaglia into his arms, “I was under the impression you were still rather cross with me. May I ask what it is you are so concerned about?” Tartaglia stiffened up and stared at Zhongli like he had grown another head. “Do you not wish for me to touch you…?” Zhongli asked, feeling a bit of sorrow worm its way into his heart.

“No… no, don’t… don’t go,” Tartaglia struggled to speak, still staring at Zhongli like he was alien. Tartaglia gathered Zhongli’s hands back into his own, squeezing them tightly. “He… I let Legacy hurt you…” Tartaglia whispered brokenly, “I… I was mad, still am a bit, but not… not enough to unleash him on you, not… not after what you told us,” Tartaglia confessed, clearing the muddled confusion from Zhongli’s mind.

“Oh, no, no dearest,” Zhongli shook his head earnestly, “Oh Tartaglia, my treasure, there is absolutely nothing wrong, banish the thought. There is not a single part of you that I do not trust.”

“But… you’re hurt,” Tartaglia said, fingers ghosting over the ragged claw marks on his thigh. “He did this. He hurt you while… while I wasn’t paying attention.”

Zhongli leaned in and brushed his lips to Tartaglia’s cheek, “My sweet warrior, this is no concern. This was… akin to play fighting, I suppose.”

“… You’re bruised and battered Zhongli,” Tartaglia’s brows furrowed.

“You once told me Legacy was not human, that he was other,” Zhongli hummed, “Did you forget… I am as well?”

“Ah…” Tartaglia blinked a few times, like he was processing it.

“Legacy did no lasting harm,” Zhongli crooned, “And Tartaglia, you seem to have neglected to notice that I marked your body rather throughly too.” Zhongli leaned over his warrior, and grazed his sharp teeth over the wound left on their shared body, right at the juncture of their shoulder and neck. Tartaglia hissed, like he had indeed, not noticed it. Zhongli pressed a gentle kiss over the bite, unable to to stop himself from giving it a small lick in apology.

“… You’re okay,” Tartaglia spoke slowly, “You… enjoyed it?”

“Very much so,” Zhongli nodded his head with a smile, “It was rather exhilarating, and it makes me eager to spar with you one day soon. Legacy is very capable, and I find that pleasing. You both share a hunger to grow stronger, it is a very attractive and appealing trait to one such as myself.”

“A dragon,” Tartaglia said, a shimmery sort of excitement creeping into his eyes, “An Archon…”

“Ex-archon, but I suppose still a god,” Zhongli corrected with a small laugh. “So, you see, no need to fret, there is no part of you I do not love, no part I fear. I should be thanking Legacy for indulging me in our little tussle, he has proven himself to be rather compatible.”

“Huh,” Tartaglia’s expression changed, to one of soft indulgence, “I suppose… That Her Majesty was right, there is no one…. No one more perfect for us than you.” Tartaglia leaned over and took hold of Zhongli’s head, pulling him into a searing kiss, rough and passionate. He nipped Zhongli’s lips as he pulled away. “You owe me a spar though, then I’ll forgive you,” he growled, send a shiver up Zhongli’s spine.

The Tsaritsa was indeed correct, there was no one more suited to Zhongli, than his darling treasures.

Chapter 3: Melting Snowflakes

Chapter Text

Childe was excited, and it was starting to bubble over. Zhongli had asked him on a date. A real date. Not like the little outings they had in Liyue. He didn’t count those as dates, since there wasn’t really anything official between them during that time, and most of them were just meals and walks around the city.

That’s exactly what a date is Childe.

“There’s more to dates than food,” Childe huffed, staring intensely at his closet. He had locked himself away in his room, the one that was specifically for him, and none of the others. Well, occasionally Ajax made his way in there, because he liked how pretty the clothes were. “I don’t know what to wear,” he bemoaned.

I am going to be zero help, I am not even going to offer and opinion, just so you know.

“You’re just mad that he didn’t like the ice fishing,” Childe grumbled. Tartaglia had taken Zhongli ice fishing, not realizing the Adeptus’ dislike for sea creatures. Zhongli, the lovely darling he was, stuck it out for Tartaglia, even if he threw up a few times after they got home.

He could have told me! But no, the dumb beast tried to be a hero? But like, he has eaten fish before? Seriously, what crawled up his ass and died? Fishing is an excellent hobby!

“… You do realize he once told us a story of Rex Lapis fighting off a bunch of tentacle octopus monsters that were invading the harbor, right?” Childe drawled out, holding a burgundy suit out in front of him.

What…?

“You blanked out on that one?” Childe snorted, “I’m not going to ask him about it again, because it sounds like it traumatized him. And to answer what crawled up his ass… mm, I don’t know if it’s true or not but…”

Point made, please stop.

“But seriously, be a little sensitive?” Childe set the suit down, “I’d like for him to open up a bit more. I know he’s told us a lot of tales, but… have you realized, he tells them as if he isn’t Morax? Like he’s separating himself, they aren’t impersonal, but they sure aren’t personal accounts.”

Are you saying he has like… PTSD?

“I don’t want to assume,” Childe shrugged his shoulders and sifted through his clothes again, “But it wouldn’t surprise me. You suffer from it too.” Tartaglia hummed softly in acknowledgment. “I don’t think one simple walks out of something like the Archon War without something f*cking them up.”

By that logic most the Adepti would have it too.

“Uhhhh, you think they don’t?” Childe asked incredulously, “Prime example, Xiao? f*cked, totally, displays so many symptoms. Agitation, vivid flashbacks, depression, and I would go out on a limb and call his dedication to his job as suicidal tendencies, considering it’s killing him?”

Okay, yeah Xiao is just one obvious example though. What about Cloud Retainer?

“You’re making this so easy Tartaglia,” Childe huffed, “Social isolation expect for her adopted daughters. She lives on a f*cking mountain. She’s got obsessive-compulsive tendencies and is always very vigilant. That goes for the lot of them, it seems.”

Should we really be psycho-analyzing the Adepti?

“I’m not trying to diagnose them,” Childe sat down at his vanity, “I’m just saying, it would be wise of us to be aware of possible triggers. I want to be respectful… Zhongli has been so good to us, so respectful of our system, and I want to offer the same to him. And by extension, his family.” He pulled out a headband and pushed his hair back. “They’re basically gonna be our in-laws, you know?”

Oh f*ck.

“Oh Tartaglia,” Childe sighed, “You’re an amazing man, and yet, so out of touch sometimes.” Childe rolled his eyes and started on a skin care routine. He was the only one that really tried when it came to a routine. He basically had to beg to be the one to be fronting when they washed up at the end of the day. Tartaglia would forget, and little Ajax didn’t like to sit through it, though Zhongli had noticed and offered his assistance. Childe fell in the love with dragon more every day.

So excessive. Just because he does that stuff doesn’t mean you have to be a sappy sh*t.

“Oh please,” Childe snarked, “He points a spear at your throat and you nearly come in your pants. That’s ridiculous. I just love that he wants to take care of us, at least that’s normal!”

…I do not…

“Sure thing sweetheart,” Childe said in a saccharine tone. “That’s why you don’t like anyone but Legacy hanging around during your spars.”

I don’t need you our Ajax getting upset by a few scrapes.

“You love to act like you’re the only one that’s a Harbinger,” Childe scoffed, digging through his drawers. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and started to apply a tinted moisturizer. “I can handle myself, it’s not like I’m not able to fight. I just don’t relish it the same way you do.”

Yeah, well… I still got the first kiss.

Childe gaped at the mirror at the audacity of Tartaglia. The other alter dipped, refusing to answer to any more of the pestering Childe threw at him. With a petulant pout he went back to getting ready, he was sure Tartaglia would pop up again once he finished and with Zhongli. That nosy ass wouldn’t be able to help himself.

He refocused his efforts on getting himself dressed. He settled on a suit after Ajax had popped in with a sweet and lovely compliment. Ajax finished applying light makeup, nothing too over the top, just a few tricks Rosa had taught him to make his eyes pop, and define his brows more. He was still pissed at her for Liyue, but she was a fashion icon in Snezhnaya, and that he could respect.

He ran some product through his hair and styled it, pushing it back a bit so a bit of his forehead was showing. He messed with it a bit, getting the cowlicks and curls to lay perfectly. He took a few steps back and looked at himself in a floor length mirror was he was dressed. The suit was rather lovely. All navy blue, with a light blue vest, and crisp white shirt underneath. All the metal accents were made of gold, and he loved the way it shone in the light. The entire ensemble would look amazing with his Harbinger coat, but that may draw too much attention. He’d have to settle for a plain black one. He frowned a bit at his earring, it didn’t really match, but he didn’t have any others that were nice enough.

He brushed off the suit one more time and picked his coat off the rack, folding it over his arm. He hoped Zhongli liked it, that Zhongli thought he looked nice. He assumed Zhongli was wearing his normal suit, he really hadn’t seen the ex-archon in anything but that in variations and his nightclothes. He stepped outside his room, holding his coat over his arm. It was rather quiet, and Childe quickly glanced at the fireplace to make sure it was still lit. They had discovered that Zhongli had a hard time operating in the cold. He was technically speaking, a reptilian creature. If his temperature got too low, he just stopped. It was weird state between sleeping and paralysis. So whenever it was too quiet, Childe now feared finding his partner frozen in place.

“Zhongli?” Childe called out, knocking on the bedroom door. “Is everything okay?” The door opened quickly, and a low exhale left Childe’s lips. He felt his heart skip a beat when Zhongli came into view. The man had dressed up for him and he was ravishing.

“I apologize, did I make you wait?” Zhongli asked, tenderly taking ahold of Childe’s hand. The suit was black, and cut to fit Zhongli like a glove. He wore a pressed white shirt, adorned with an expensive looking set of collar pins. The vest under was a shimmering gold, and hugged his waist. The most sinful thing in Childe’s opinion, was the high ponytail, revealing a sliver of his nape. “Childe?” Zhongli asked, moving a hand to touch his cheek.

“You look amazing,” Childe whispered, all but falling into Zhongli for a kiss. The dragon happily obliged, taking a firm grip of Childe’s hip to hold them close together. There was a pleased glint in Zhongli’s eyes as they broke apart, and Childe wasn’t sure what sound come from him when Zhongli ran his tongue over lips.

“I am glad it meets your standards dearest,” Zhongli purred, sending a tingle down Childe’s spine. “Now,” he said in that beautiful deep voice, “Let me have a look at you…” Zhongli took a step back and inspected the navy suit Childe had chosen. “Lovely,” he breathed, “The color perfectly compliments your eyes and contrast your hair. The fit is exquisite. I assume it is bespoke?”

“Ah, yes,” Childe nodded while blushing, “I had it tailored for a state dinner.”

“Mm,” Zhongli hummed in approval. “What jacket are you wearing my love?” He asked affectionately, leaning in closer to press a kiss to Childe’s cheek. Childe couldn’t help but let out a breathy, hopelessly in love, sigh. Zhongli was all he could have ever dreamed of in a man. Kind, affectionate, strong, and drop dead gorgeous. Sometimes it felt like Zhongli was a love interest from one of the romance novels Tonia sent him to read. He was lucky. So, so lucky.

“Ah, just this one,” Childe held up the black fur coat.

“Would you be amenable to a few presents?” Zhongli asked, sliding his fingers under Childe’s chin.

“Presents?” Childe asked with a sly smile, wrapping his arms around Zhongli’s neck. “And did I buy these presents for myself?” He asked with a little laugh. Zhongli’s expression shifted to one a little miffed, and that instantly terrified Childe. His face must have shown it, based on the firm grasp Zhongli took of Childe’s shoulders.

“Baobei,” Zhongli said firmly, looking him in the eye, “What is it? What happened?”

Childe swallowed and got out, “…you… I’m sorry, I made fun of you. I… I didn’t mean-“

“Childe,” Zhongli cut him off, making Childe’s heart rate skyrocket. “It’s okay, yes, you teased me. I am not upset, you do not have to appease me like you do to others. You are allowed to speak freely, I will never be upset with you for that.” Childe started blankly at Zhongli for a moment. Zhongli looked at him with such warm and kind eyes. “Shh, no tears my darling,” Zhongli murmured and kissed Childe’s cheeks, “Not after you did such pretty makeup.” Zhongli gently guided him into the room and sat him on their bed. “My treasure,” he began, gently squeezing Childe’s hands, “I know it is in your nature to keep everyone happy, as that protects the system. You do not have to do that with me. You do not need to strain yourself to say the words you think I want to hear. You are my everything, and some simple teasing will not change that. I know it will take time for you to accept, which is why I will remind you.” Childe sniffled a little a small smile working its way on to his lips. “Now…” Zhongli gently detached from Childe, “I will have you know that Hu Tao did indeed pay me, contrary to popular belief. I am just not used to carrying physical representations of mora. Luckily, I was reminded plenty of times to bring it with me on my journey here.”

“And you bought me something?” Childe asked, dabbing his eyes. Tonia would call Zhongli a prince. He always seemed to know what the system needed, and was ready to provide, no questions asked. At times Childe wondered how Zhongli understood them so well, how he was able to shift his perspective of them so fast. The answer, had surprisingly come from Legacy of all the alters. The creature had reminded them that Zhongli had lived and was still living many lives. He may have put some to rest, but others still continued simultaneously. He was an Adeptus, he was human consultant, a dragon, an emperor, a warrior, a scholar, a father figure. Zhongli had just as many facets as their system had, but just shoved all into one man.

“I did,” Zhongli hummed, “Multiple things. I do hope you will like them.” Zhongli turned towards their dresser, and picked up a small pile of boxes. He set it on Childe’s lap, and gently pecked his freckled forehead. Childe beamed and picked up the smaller of the two boxes first. Popping it open, his eyes shined in delight.

“Technically this is a gift for both you and Tartaglia… and perhaps Ajax as well,” Zhongli sat next to him, brushing Childe’s hair away from his ear. It was a lovely earring, with long blue gem, encrusted in smaller amber gems and shining gold. Zhongli slid his finger behind Childe’s ear, making him shiver as his old earring was removed. His breath caught in throat when the new one replaced it. He did love the feeling of Zhongli’s hands on his skin. There was a weird tingle as the earring brushed against his neck, but it pleasant, soothing almost. “I created all of the materials used to make this piece,” Zhongli informed Childe, “And it will protect you from danger. Think of it as a sliver of my power, ready to defend you. You are aware of my shield, correct?”

“Uh-huh,” Childe breathed, his fingers tracing along the gems.

“Think of this earring as that, it will shield you from attacks when I am not there,” Zhongli pressed a small, open mouthed kiss to Childe’s neck, making him shiver in delight. “And I must say, it looks lovely against your skin, my treasure,” he purred against the delicate flesh of Childe’s throat.

“f*ck,” Childe whispered, feeling his heart pound, “I love it.”

“Good,” Zhongli rumbled, his arms snaking around Childe, “Now on to the other one dearest.” Childe giggled softly, eyes gleaming in excitement. He untied the bow on the second, bigger box and shimmied the lid off. He let out a little gasp as he was greeted by a soft white and gray speckled fur. “I understand you have many coats and uniforms,” Zhongli rumbled, “But it would please me to give you something to keep you warm.”

“It’s beautiful,” Childe breathed, taking the coat out of the box. It was so soft and luxurious. Childe couldn’t help but run his hands through it. It was no doubt very, very expensive. Childe didn’t recognize the fur pattern though, he hadn’t seen anything like it in the shops of the capital. “What fur is it?” He whispered, “So soft and beautiful.”

“Ah,” Zhongli looked a little sheepish, “It is a breed of wolf from the deep tundra. Your Tsaritsa suggested that the fur pattern would compliment your features very well. She was kind enough to point me in the direction of where I could find one.”

“Wait, what?” Childe blinked, “You… hunted it yourself?”

“Indeed,” Zhongli said, looking rather pleased.

“Archons, you’re amazing,” Childe squealed, clinging to the coat in excitement. “I love it! Thank you,” he crooned and snuggled into Zhongli. The dragon churred and pulled Childe close, kissing the top of his head.

That’s actually pretty sexy…

Childe laughed under his breath, “Tartaglia appreciates your hunting prowess.”

“Ah,” Zhongli’s eyes lit up, “I did not know he was here. Hello my handsome warrior,” he crooned, pressing a few kisses to Childe’s cheeks. Childe laughed, as he could feel a swell of happiness from Tartaglia at being addressed.

“He’s just hanging out,” Childe hummed, “He’ll probably be in and out during our date, if that’s okay?”

“Of course, as long as that is alright with you my dear,” Zhongli chuckled.

“Yeah, Tartaglia and I pretty much do everything together,” Childe laughed, “He said he wasn’t interested in the ballet, but I think he was lying.”

“I think he may enjoy it more than he thinks,” Zhongli agreed. “Here,” Zhongli stood up, and took the coat, opening it up. Childe giggled and allowed Zhongli to slip it over his arms. Zhongli adjusted it, settling it on his shoulders. The ex-archon pressed a sweet kiss to Childe’s forehead, nose and lips. Childe slipped his arms around Zhongli and snuggled in close.

Childe was guided out of the room by his waist. He felt like he was walking on air. A gentleman on his arm, showering him in gifts and affections. It was somewhat unimaginable. That he could have it all. Have his career with the Fatui, have his system, have a love life. He had been resigned to a life without love. He would put the system’s wellbeing first, always. It didn’t mean he hadn’t yearned for it. That he hadn’t read romance novels at any chance he had. That he didn’t spend lonely nights dreaming about a normal life.

Now he had it, and it was like nothing he ever imagined. He got to share all those warm, happy feelings with the others, and they got to know what it was like to be loved so unconditionally. Childe would say his life was better than he could ask for, better than he deserved. He rested his head on Zhongli’s shoulder as they embarked into the cold night.

The theatre wasn’t too far from the palace, as Her Majesty and the Harbingers did tend to frequent it while in town. Zhongli pressed a little closer as they walked, stealing Childe’s body heat. They were quiet as they walked, and Childe simply observed the warm lantern lights that spilled on to the snow, looking like shimmer gold pools. He loved the bitter cold, it felt dreamy most days. At least in the capital, back in his village it had been awful. Here though, the cold was managed, there was heating in the buildings and innovations to heat bath water automatically, and not cooking over open flames.

The theatre came into view, and the crowd was already hustling, trying to escape the cold and find their seats. Childe gently tugged Zhongli to the side of the crowd, towards and overwhelmed looking usher.

“Excuse me,” Childe said with a polite smile, “Is the side entrance available?”

“Side entrance?” The young man looked confused, and Childe wondered if the theatre had hired new ushers recently.

“Are you new?” He asked in understanding, “Perhaps one of your seniors could explain it to you.”

“Uh,” he looked around and nervously waved someone Childe recognized over.

“Ah, Lord Tartaglia,” the older man bowed, “It is a pleasure to host you and your guest this evening. We have a private balcony prepared for you.”

“Ah, thank Victor,” Childe said with satisfaction, “You and your team always do such a wonderful job caring for the Fatui. You bring great honor to your establishment.”

“You are too kind sir,” Victor said with shining eyes, “Please follow me.” Childe smiled at Zhongli and offered his arm to his partner. Zhongli smiled indulgently, and threaded their arms together, pressing a firm kiss to Childe’s cheek. Childe was too busy swooning too notice the satisfied looks from the staff. Childe had been coming to the theatre since he was crowned a Harbinger. In all those years, he had never brought a guest that was not another member of the Fatui. More often, he was by himself. The staff seemed to take great pride that their favorite Harbinger had found a blossoming relationship.

They were led up to one of the private balconies, where two plush chairs awaited them, empty glasses waiting for beverages on the table between them. Zhongli took the lead and gently helped Childe slide off his new coat. There was a glimmer in Zhongli’s eyes, as he leaned forward and stole another kiss, completely unabashed by their company. Childe blushed, but that only seemed to add to Zhongli’s ego.

“I apologize for interrupting,” Victoria said with a small bow, “But I would like to inquire as to what beverage you would prefer for tonight? Surely not your regular order,” Victor added with a knowing smile. Childe blushed a little, knowing he did drink a little too much firewater here on occasion.

“Wine,” Childe said through his mild embarrassment, “Finest vintage you have available. Cost is of no consequence.”

“Of course Lord Harbinger, only the finest for you and your… partner,” Victor said the word with a happy gleam in his eyes.

“Indeed,” Childe huffed, fighting his blush, “Make sure it is good, this man can sniff out quality like a hound. One day he’ll drain my wallet.”

“You jest,” Zhongli huffed, “You know as well as I do how well you are paid. You can spare the expense,” he said in a haughty tone. Childe rose a brow at it. Oh, he could work with that. Zhongli liked it when Childe flaunted his wealth. That was spectacular. He could do that easily.

“You’re right,” Childe laughed and slipped his arms around Zhongli, “And even if you weren’t, who better to spend my fortune on than you, my love?” Zhongli blinked slowly, much like a cat would. A smile formed on his lips and leaned into Childe’s warm embrace so easily.

“Quite astute my good sir,” Victor chuckled, “I will return with an assortment of wines, to see what suits your tastes for this evening. Please enjoy the show.” With that, the man left after a short bow. Childe felt Zhongli push himself closer, snuggling his face into Childe’s hair.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Childe teased.

“May I remind you,” Zhongli huffed, “I am the god of wealth. I find it a very attractive quality.”

“You are the god of many things,” Childe countered with a silly grin.

“I am,” Zhongli nodded slowly, “And I have found my match in you, my treasures. Someone who is just as faceted as I. Someone who is adaptable, like water, who is constantly shifting and evolving. I look at you with wonder, my sweet boys, who never cease to amaze me.”

“Archons,” Childe whispered into Zhongli’s lips as they crashed together. Childe dug his fingers into Zhongli’s hair, like he had been aching to do since the bedroom door had opened. He held Zhongli’s head in a iron grasp, taking and taking and taking all he could get. Zhongli responded easily, allowing Childe to take what he needed, to control the angle and clash of tongues. Childe was gasping like a drowning man when they pulled briefly apart, and yet he wanted to dive back in for more.

“Childe,” Zhongli rumbled, their lips still sliding together, “Peace my love, breathe please. I will be here for whatever you need.”

“You say we’re perfect,” Childe gasped against Zhongli, “But you… You’re it for us. No one else could be right for us, not a single soul is like you.”

“I have waited a millennium for you my sweet,” Zhongli chuckled with a deep tone. “My entire being already belongs to you. To Tartaglia, to Legacy, to Ajax. You complete my hoard, you are my prized treasures. I think we understand each other better than either of us think. You see every side of me, even the ugliest ones. As I see the sides of you, and I believe…. And I speak out of assumption, but I believe we both find every side, every nook and cranny of each other as something to love.”

“Celestia above and Abyss below,” Childe whispered, “We’re so lucky to have you Zhongli.”

“Is it luck, or merely fate?” Zhongli asked with a quirked smile, “But believe me when I say this, my dear, now that I know our fingers are tied in the string of fate, I will never let it go.”

“I do believe you,” Childe smiled dreamily, curling into Zhongli’s strong arms.

So sappy, Childe, get it together.

“And the moment is ruined,” Childe whined.

“Tartaglia?” Zhongli chuckled.

“Yes,” Childe pouted, “He’s such a brat!”

“Mm?” Zhongli simply smiled in a way that gave Childe excited shivers, “Is he now?”

“Y-yeah,” Childe nodded dumbly. The look in Zhongli’s eyes sent heat through Childe, and he was sure Tartaglia was feeling it too. The dark amber of the ex-archon’s smoldered like molten metal as he gazed at Childe. Zhongli leaned forward and took another kiss from Childe, this one deep, slow and sensual. It was nothing like the frantic exchange from before. Childe could feel the way Zhongli coiled next to him, the way the man wanted to pick him apart.

f*ck.

Childe purred into the kiss, taking a bit of satisfaction from the way he could feel Tartaglia’s presence, how he hung on to every sensation Childe was experiencing. Zhongli broke their kiss and gently guided Childe, stunned as he was, to his seat. Zhongli’s thumb traced over his knuckles as the held hands.

“And what did Tartaglia think of that my sweet one?” Zhongli asked, amused. Oh he knew, he knew Tartaglia was lingering, listening and watching.

“I,” Childe fought to get his voice back. Zhongli’s kisses were an experience, one that he savored. Zhongli was their first kiss after all, and Childe did not believe anyone would ever top the way Zhongli felt pressed against him. He may be inexperienced, but it felt like heaven when their lips slotted together. “He liked it,” Childe said with a deep breath, “I think he’s a bit jealous now.”

“Oh baobei,” Zhongli crooned, “There is no need for any of you to be jealous. I adore each one of you,” he murmured, leaning in a bit closer, “And next time my beautiful warrior is out, I will be sure to give him a kiss that will leave him breathless. But for now,” Zhongli tucked a curl of ginger hair behind Childe’s ear, “It’s my charismatic beauty’s turn to be pampered.”

“O-oh,” Childe flushed, a little whine in the back of his throat, “I… I’m not, oh, I’m no Rosalyn,” he floundered, feeling suddenly self conscious.

“Signora?” Zhongli recoiled, “Pah, she is aesthetically pleasing, but it is very much like bright colors painted over broken pottery.” If Childe had been drinking something, he would have spat it out. “You my dear, hold an elegance that takes no effort on your part, it is natural and shifts with you. You, who move like dancer, who smiles like the very sun. Your eyes like summer tides and hair like the warmest fire. It fills you with every breath. There is nothing artificial about you.”

“Don’t let Signora hear you say that,” Childe flushed, “She’d have my head, or, well she’d try.”

“Hmph,” Zhongli let out a small sound, “I am unsure if that was a mere joke, but you would not have to worry about her hunting you down.”

“Huh, why?” Childe asked, puzzled. Even if the fair lady came after him for running his mouth, Tartaglia would handle it. Or Legacy for that matter. Odds are the Tsaritsa would put an end to the squabble before it actually got serious, regardless of how damaged Signora’s ego was.

“You really must ask why?” Zhongli rumbled in mild amusem*nt. “You four may have pledged your allegiance to the Tsaritsa, but you belong to me.” He said it so matter of factly that Childe wondered if he was hearing correctly. “Any being wishing malicious intent on to my treasures is just a nuisance to be dealt with. Buzzing flies to kill,” he said flippantly, waving his hand in dismissal.

That’s actually super hot. He’d kill for us.

Not the time for your wet dreams!

It suddenly made a lot of sense why the Tsaritsa was being so lenient with them. Letting them take time off to spend with Zhongli. Letting them relax, and stay in the capital instead of traveling to another mission. They had essentially added a dragon and an archon to her army. She was playing a game, one he was sure Zhongli was aware of. She was allowing them time to settle their newfound relationship, in hopes that the bond they foraged was strong enough to rally the God of War, Morax, to her side when she inevitably called her Harbinger to battle.

“Mm, it seems the show is about to begin,” Zhongli threaded their fingers together and leaned back in his seat. He let out a little hum as the theatre lights darkened. Childe was still turning the revelation over in his mind as the curtains on stage were drawn back to reveal performers. He was half focused on the ballet, as he thought about the diplomatic consequences of their relationship with Zhongli. Honestly, it was probably the smartest move he could think of. The Tsaritsa was smart like that, and he highly admired it. Childe was unsure if it was planned, or a coincidence. She had said she saw a possibility when they reunited, and the fact that she was technically the goddess of love. Perhaps her plan had not been to coerce him into a relationship with Zhongli, but to see if it would develop naturally. She must have been invested in it by the time the gnosis was collected, because why else would she interfere like that?

He loved his goddess, but he was under no illusions that she held unconditional love for him or anyone else. Yes, she cared, very deeply, but if she had to throw away one of the them for her plans to succeed, she would. She would mourn them though, and he respected her for that. So, he could settle on that she wanted Morax on her war map, and she carefully made sure their paths would cross, as an attempt to win the geo dragon over. Well, it had worked, so she was probably ecstatic with his unwitting performance.

“My, that ballerina has lovely hair,” Zhongli murmured, drawing Childe from his inner monologue. He was going to say something a bit snappy when Zhongli continued, “It reminds me quite a deal of yours.” Childe focused on the stage, trying to sort through the dancers. His eyes settled on a woman, older than him, with a similar complexion and hair. He would have been spiteful if it were not for his heart beating in his throat.

Is that Irina? What the ever loving abyss is she doing here?

I don’t know! Can she see us? Should we hide? Can we hide?

Relax, she probably can’t see the crowd, let alone us. The lights are too bright on stage to see.

Right, right. I knew that. We just… stay still, don’t move or draw attention.

And don’t let Ajax out.

Got it, help me keep an eye out for him.

I’ll cover you. But when the show is over, don’t performers normally greet guests on their way out?

Yes…

Back exit then, we are not dealing with this, or her, or anyone else.

“Childe?” Zhongli stroked his hand gently, “What is happening my dear?”

“Ah,” Childe paled, “Just Tartaglia, he needed something. Everything is okay, I promise.” Zhongli did not look satisfied by his words, but nodded reluctantly. Zhongli squeezed their joined hands and turned back to the performance. Their wine was brought up, and Childe did his best to relax. To formulate an escape plan that would skirt them around his estranged older sister. None of them were going to deal with that right now. His visits home were highly planned. He may have diverted some of his own platoon to keeping tabs on his family’s schedules when he wanted or needed to visit the little ones. It had to be when they were alone, when both Mama and Pa were out, when his three older siblings were gone, which was most of the time.

There was a complicated relationship there. He did love his family, and did send money to support them every month, not that he knew what they did with it. His parents were a sore spot. They had been an oops baby. They had not been wanted, and at the time, the family couldn’t easily support an extra mouth. When they had been little, or well, maybe when they had just been Ajax, their parents didn’t have time to care for him. He grew up needy, wanting attention, wanting to be coddled, and well, that backfired.

After all, it was their fault the family was struggling. That his older siblings had to sacrifice extracurriculars, their free time, to working and looking after them. They had taken out on Ajax, and one day it was three of them, and Ajax stayed behind closed doors, not wanting to take up space, afraid to breathe the wrong way. As they grew, he stayed young and scared. Childe spent most of his time scrounging for their survival, doing odd jobs for neighbors, because he knew his older siblings would forget to make them dinner. And if Childe accidentally said or did something wrong, Tartaglia would step in, and make sure even after a beating, Childe would be able to function to provide for them. Of course, they didn’t have names back then. They just knew.

Then it happened. Childe had been gathering berries out in the woods one evening. It had been a very unlucky week. The neighbors were out of town, and the they blown through their meager funds from the previous week on food, and new scarf. So they were foraging for anything edible. Childe couldn’t remember the full details, as he switched with Tartaglia part way through. But they had been chased by wolves and fell into the abyss.

Things changed after that. When they came back, they were even more alienated from the family. Tartaglia fought back, Ajax burrowed deeper down, Childe started to steal to survive, and Legacy growled protectively whenever they were hit. Childe knew Tartaglia blamed himself for them getting thrown out into the snow that night. For them being sold to the Fatui. He remember Tonia crying, still just a little thing. It took time for them to realize it was probably the best thing to happen to them.

The first couple years had been hell. But when he met Nella, it all changed. The Tsaritsa took one look at them, and knew the secret they kept. It wasn’t that they needed her permission to differentiate themselves, but, her acknowledging them, giving them names, somehow settled their souls. She found value in them, in their differences. She and the Harbingers knew something about him his own blood did not. They were more of his family than his parents and siblings.

Originally, the only reason he checked back on the littlest three was to make sure that they were not being treated the same way he was. He may not have had any relationship with them, but he would rather slip them cash to buy food should they need it. He hadn’t expected them to treat them as a big brother. To be excited to see them, to give them hugs and play games. That had healed a bit of Childe. He vowed to be the best brother he could. He did not know, or really want to care about the rest of his family. He was sure that the little ones told them of his visits, but, he hadn’t seen them since he was fourteen, and wasn’t planning on it.

The little ones only knew Childe. It was easier that way. Ajax wanted to play with them, but he understood the risks. Tartaglia was not great at lying, and he sometimes got frustrated with children, so it was Childe who bonded with them, who sent them gifts and made sure they had their school supplies. He loved them. Even if they called him the wrong name.

“Childe,” Zhongli murmured into his ear, “You have been so faraway this evening. Are you sure everything is well?” Zhongli’s eyes were glistening in concern. He squeezed their threaded fingers, a soothing sensation rolling over him.

“I’m sorry,” Childe leaned in and brought their hands to his lips, kissing chastely. “I… I saw someone I know, and it threw both Tartaglia and I. It… it would be best for us to avoid them.”

“To have someone put you in such a state is concerning,” Zhongli leaned in closer, moving their wine glasses out of the way. “Tell me what you both need and I shall endeavor to see it through.”

“The red head,” Childe sighed, “She… is a relative, one I would prefer not to speak to.” Zhongli looked surprised, and concerned, but the man was lovely and did not press him for more details.

“Then we shall be careful,” he vowed, looking at Childe softly. Childe would melt for this man, a single look had his heart beat calming. He knew Zhongli meant what he said, he had no doubts in that. Zhongli pushed and pulled like the tide, only taking as much as Childe could offer, and he loved that about the man. He never felt nervous of coerced when Zhongli spoke. He spoke to all of them, and them individually. He made each part of their system feel heard.

Childe spent the rest of the show snuggling into Zhongli’s side. Watching as the rest of the story unfolded. He had seen this ballet a few years back, and remembered the gist of it, so he hadn’t missed much. He did his best to not stare at Irina. He tried not to let it over take his mind, to not cause his heart to pound. He would not say he was very successful.

The curtain dropped and the crowd applauded as the show came to an end. Zhongli stood up, clapping loudly. At least he had enjoyed himself. That was all that really mattered, was it not? Childe leaned up against him while people started to file out of the theatre.

“Should we wait?” Zhongli asked, taking a hold of Childe’s hip.

“Probably for a little,” Childe sighed, “Was it up to your standards?”

“It was delightful,” Zhongli’s eyes lit up, “Much different from the opera in Liyue, but I found myself enthralled. Snezhnayan dancers are truly unparalleled.”

“I mean, ballet is kind of our thing,” Childe chuckled, “But I doubt a Snezhnayan troop could pull off any of the dances from, say, Sumeru.”

“Mm,” Zhongli nodded his head thoughtfully, “Indeed, while it is not common there, I did have the pleasure of watching a young upcoming dancer in the Sumeru Bizarre many years ago.”

“What were you doing in Sumeru?” Childe asked, excited to hear any story Zhongli had up his sleeve.

“Ah, I was assisting a researcher in burial rites across Teyvat,” Zhongli smiled, “I was just establishing my mortal life, and found I could not pass up the offer to share knowledge. To this day he is a good friend of mine, though he no longer does much research. He works as a scribe. Though he will field questions from his colleagues to me from time to time.”

“What do you know about Sumeru’s history?” Childe asked in confusion.

“You would be surprised my dear,” Zhongli chuckled, “For do not forget, I was there. I knew Greater Lord Rukkhadevata and King Deshret. Deshert would often brag about his temples, you see, he was very proud of his people. I heard a great deal about their monuments and the secrets that lay inside.”

“Whoa,” Childe laughed, “That’s actually really cool. So you know… all the archons?”

“To some extent,” Zhongli shrugged, “The only two I consider close are your Tsaritsa, and Barbatos. I care very little for the Raiden Shogun, and I have not had the pleasure of meeting Kusanali or Focalors. The world is not what it once was. The archons do not need to see each other, and if they did the fear of tempers rising may become a reality.”

“What’s Barbatos like?” Childe hummed.

“A drunkard,” Zhongli responded immediately, making Childe giggle like a school boy. Zhongli chuckled along with him, even if he was dead serious. Zhongli slipped his arm around Childe and murmured, “Come, I think it’s been enough time. Do performers tend to greet fans after the show, like in Liyue?”

Childe blinked a few times, “They… don’t. I guess I’ve spent so much time in Liyue that I forgot,” he laughed, “And here I was worried for nothing, making us wait.”

“Spending more time with you is never a tragedy my dear,” Zhongli soothed as they exited their balcony. Victor bowed to them on their way out of the theatre, thanking them profusely. Childe slipped him a tip, making Zhongli smile. The crowd was gone by the time they stepped out into the snow, and Childe felt himself start to relax. He had been worried for nothing. Zhongli curled closer to him as they began their walk.

“Ajax? Is that… really you?” Childe froze, feeling Zhongli’s steps falter right next to him. He hesitantly turned his head, to find a redheaded woman staring at him, from the side exit of the theatre. Her blue eyes widened and she took a few steps forward. “It is you,” she breathed.

“Irina,” he said in a clipped tone, “Lovely performance tonight, if you would excuse us.” He turned back, trying to get the hell out of there.

“Hey, wait!” She stumbled forward, catching the sleeve of his coat. “You, you can’t just leave!” She declared, looking rather frenzied. “It’s been a decade,” she hissed.

“I believe he’s made it rather clear he does not wish to speak with you,” Zhongli said plainly, detaching her hand from Childe’s coat.

She looked between the two of them, “Please Ajax,” she begged, “It doesn’t have to be right now, but please, I want to talk to you.” Childe bit his lip as he looked at her. She seemed earnest, at the very least.

Do you want me to handle this?

No… I… I’ll do it.

“You said it yourself,” Childe crossed his arms, “It’s been a decade. Why does it matter now? What is so important?”

“I… You probably won’t believe me,” she said with pursed smile, “But I… I want to apologize. And… I just want to know how you’re doing.” Her shoulders fell, she looked small to him now. His older siblings had always been so big, and he lived by their rules. Now, she seemed so small to him.

“Four days from now,” Childe said abruptly, “Down the street at Royal Garden Café. Go at four in the evening, a reservation for a private room under the name Childe.” She looked up at him, hope entering her eerily familiar eyes. “Don’t disappoint me,” he said with a frown, taking Zhongli’s arm and turning down the street. He hoped she didn’t show up, that she would indeed disappoint him.

Chapter 4: Calling Home

Chapter Text

Are you sure you want to go?

“What other choice do I have Tartaglia?” Childe asked, aggressively brushing his hair out. He let out a growl, hating how it looked. He could feel Tartaglia’s uneasiness settle in his own chest. “I’ll be fine,” he snapped, “What is she going to do? Hurt me?” He laughed hollowly.

In some sense, yes. You’ve always been prone to bruises, and I’m not talking about physical ones.

“The hurt has already been done,” Childe stood up, digging through hair products. “It’s not like I don’t know that. f*ck, why did I even open my mouth?”

You are unfortunately an optimist. You hope, and hope, no matter how much it hurts in the end.

“Celestia be damned,” Childe’s shoulder slumped and he leaned against a wall in defeat.

“Baobei?” Zhongli knocked lightly on the door.

“You can come in,” Childe responded, closing his eyes for a moment. Zhongli pushed into the room, coming closer. He couldn’t see the dragon, but the way he walked, the way his clothes moved would always be music to Childe’s ears. The man’s large hands smoothed Childe’s rumpled shirt, and warm lips were chastely placed on his neck, right over his racing pulse point. Zhongli stayed there for a moment, letting Childe’s warmth seep into his body. Childe sagged against him, finding comfort in the curves of Zhongli’s body, slotted so perfectly against his own.

“Do you still wish for me to stay behind?” Zhongli asked, breaking the silence.

“I really don’t want you involved,” Childe sighed, “It’s not your problem.”

“Childe, it may not involve me directly, but anything that involves you, pertains to me as well,” he said, brushing a finger over Childe’s cheek. Childe opened his eyes, finding Zhongli snuggled into the crook of his neck, watching him with those gold, mora like eyes. He was breathtaking. Every time Childe thought he was used to his otherworldly partner, he was humbled. He couldn’t help but tilt his head and press a delicate kiss to Zhongli’s forehead. The dragon’s eyes crinkled in a happy way, revealing the adorable wrinkles around his eyes.

“It’s just so messy,” Childe said gently, pressing another kiss to Zhongli’s face, this time next to his eye. “I want you to be separate from it.”

“I know,” Zhongli rumbled, “But it hurts to know I cannot offer a modicum of comfort to you.”

“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he breathed, “ I’m sorry…”

“Shh, apologies are not needed,” Zhongli hushed, “Let me help you dress.” Zhongli slowly detached from Childe, guiding him back to the vanity and having him sit back down. Childe’s eyes closed again, as Zhongli set to work. His long fingers ran through the ginger curls, fixing them, the smoothing the frizz out of his hair. Zhongli started to hum, his voice deep and rumbling. It sounded odd to admit, but to Childe, it sounded like the resonance of geo hitting the ground. The way rocks scraped against each other.

The whole system seemed to settle as Zhongli’s voice reverberated throughout the room. Childe’s muscles loosened, Tartaglia seemed to settle into a meditative state, Ajax started to doze, and Legacy hummed in response, harmonizing. It never ceased to awe him that Zhongli slotted into their lives in such a way. That he was able to get them to fully relax. That they knew now, that they were safe with him.

“There,” Zhongli paused in his humming, “Beautiful, as usual.” Childe smiled softly and blinked his eyes open. Zhongli had done a lovely job, framing his face with curls, and making a halo of cowlicks around his head. It was out of his eyes, unlike his usual look, but made him look younger. Or perhaps, made him look his age for once. He tended to forget that being 25 wasn’t all that old to begin with.

“Thank you,” Childe sighed, threading his fingers with Zhongli’s and pressing kisses to his knuckles. He knew now, that the lightly tanned skin of Zhongli’s hands and feet were false. He hadn’t been able to see much, but he had seen it briefly one morning in a haze. Blackened skin with geometric shapes glowing softly. He hoped one day Zhongli would feel comfortable enough to share his more inhuman side as well.

BEAUTIFUL.

Childe startled at the hissing voice in his head. Right, Legacy was the only one to see it. They had all been asleep or tucked away when the two sparred. Childe couldn’t help but smile a bit more.

Is he? I imagine a dragon is rather majestic…

SHINY SCALES, SOFT FUR, SHARP TEETH.

A very rudimentary description, but I’ll take it.

Oh, so you’re just as intrigued as I am?

Yes, considering those bite marks lasted for weeks. He must have impressive fangs.

“Baobei?” Zhongli cooed, brushing his fingers over Childe’s lips.

“Sorry,” Childe blinked rapidly, coming back to the real world. “Legacy and Tartaglia were talking.”

“Oh, and what did my lovely boys have to say?” Zhongli asked, pulling away to pick out an outfit for Childe.

“Legacy was waxing poetry about you,” Childe chuckled, watching Zhongli pull out a light blue sweater.

“Poetry?” Zhongli hummed, co*cking his head to the side.

“About… well he’s the only one that’s seen you as a dragon,” Childe supplied, hoping it did not make Zhongli uncomfortable.

“Ah,” the man nodded once, “Yes that is true. I have been doing my best to stay in this form, as I am trying to live a human life now.”

“Trying your best?” Childe repeated the odd phrasing, “Does that mean… you aren’t comfortable?”

“It is nothing of the sort,” Zhongli soothed, “Just at times I feel… cramped? I am bigger in stature, and technically all I am doing to retain this form is space manipulation. “I would not say it is uncomfortable, but there are certain times I have the urge to… well let’s call it stretch.”

“Zhongli,” Childe’s shoulders fell a bit, “I know you’re committed to being human, but well, you should know we don’t expect you to be, a uh, well a human? If you want, I think all of us would love to see you… stretch. To relax if you wanna.” Zhongli did a slow blink, turning the thought over in his head before nodding.

“I will endeavor to remember that,” Zhongli said smoothly, “It is only fair, for you to see my many sides, I suppose.”

“I won’t pressure you or anything,” Childe said quickly, getting up to take the sweater from Zhongli. “You can take your time, I don’t know if it’s a big deal or not, but, yeah, when you want to, we’ll be here.” Zhongli smiled softly at him, and leaned in, pressing a few chaste kisses to his cheeks.

“Thank you darling,” he murmured, “I… it may take me some time, but I do wish to share other elements of myself with you.” Childe snuggled in closer to Zhongli, just happy to hear that they were having such an open and calm conversation about it. “But, you have an appointment to keep,” he said in a gentle tone, “We can discuss this further at a later time.” Childe pouted a little but nodded. He got dressed, careful to not mess up the hair Zhongli had lovingly done. He jammed his feet into a pair of boots and looked over at Zhongli, who was sitting on an armchair, flipping through on of the books Tonia had sent him.

“I don’t think that’s to your taste Xiansheng,” he said teasingly, hopping over while trying to tie his shoe.

“Contrary to your words,” Zhongli chuckled, “Perhaps I should have read a novel or two on romance before perusing you my dearest. But, I do quite like this main character. Perhaps I’ll read while you are out.”

“As long as you don’t make fun of me,” Childe huffed, leaning over to kiss Zhongli goodbye.

“Being romantic and enjoying romance are not things to be made fun of,” Zhongli crooned, returning the soft peck. “Yes, there are different ways to be romantic, but I am quite elated to read about what you find enticing.” Childe blushed but did not argue against him. “Be safe my sweet,” Zhongli purred, “And know that I am here waiting for you, should you need me.”

“Okay,” he huffed, stealing one more kiss, “Hopefully this is worth it.” He waved and dashed out the door and then the palace. He really hoped that Irina wouldn’t show. It would be easier. Everything would go back to normal. The anxiety that Zhongli expertly soothed was coming back with a vengeance now that they were separated. He trudged down the slushy streets, watching as the sun started to dip beneath the horizon. It was that time of year, where the skies darkened early, and stayed that way well past the morning.

He spied the cafe, and it took all his will to keep walking forward. He did not know what it was Irina wanted to say, what she wanted from him. He was sure that he wouldn’t be able to give her anything of value. What was even the whole point of it? He wasn’t really her family anymore. He had a family, his system, his little siblings, and well, Zhongli. He hoped that if he ever travelled back to Liyue that he’d be able to repair some of the friendships he had built there. That was closest he’d ever felt to normal.

He pushed into the cafe, and a waiter greeted him with a short bow. He had chosen it specifically due to the fact it was Fatui run. Bringing guests and suspects alike to the palace was not an option, hence many of the discreet Fatui run shops that were smattered across the country and Teyvat’s other nations.

“Your guests has arrived Lord Tartaglia,” the waiter said quietly. Childe paused in apprehension. The waiter could have misspoken. “In the back room, my lord.”

With a swallow Childe nodded, “We are not to be interrupted unless it is of utmost importance.”

“Yes sir,” the man bowed again, and let Childe through. Who could Irina have brought with her? Was this a set up? He had his vision, so a fight wouldn’t be a problem. He slowly opened the door, muscles tensing, ready for anything that was thrown at him.

“Big brother!”

And suddenly his arms were fully of a teenager with frizzy ginger curls. He caught her as she crashed into him, joy sparking in his heart. A huge smile stretched his cheeks and laughter filled his lungs. He scooped her up and gave her the tightest hug he could without hurting her. She squealed and clung to him, burying her face in his neck.

“Tonia!” He cried, snuggling her close.

“I was going to apologize,” Irina said from where she sat at the table, “But, well, I’m glad it’s okay.”

“What are you doing here?” He asked, ignoring Irina and focusing completely on his little angel of sister. He held her at arms length, taking her in. She grew every time he saw her. It had been at least a year and half since he was able to visit. Liyue had been such a long mission.

“Mama and Pa sent me to stay with Irina for a few weeks,” she grinned toothily, “They wanted me to get familiar with the capital, since I’m moving here for school!”

“For school?” He gasped, “No, you got in? You did it?” He yelled in excitement, “Archons!” He squeezed her into another hug, “You got in! Oh Celestia, I’m so proud of you!” Her joyous laughter filled the room as he picked her up and hugged her tighter. “Wait! Why didn’t you tell me?” He pouted.

“I did!” She huffed, “But then my letter came back with a note that you had left Liyue!”

“Oh,” Childe blinked, “Agh, I’m sorry Tonia, I left in a hurry! I thought my assistant would have sent the letter I left on my desk!”

“A hurry?” She looked a bit sad for him. “What about…?” She stopped and looked and Irina, and shut her mouth. Tonia was a smart girl. She knew more than what had been told to her. She knew that Childe was not on good terms with their older siblings, or their parents. He knew she tended to hoard his letters and gifts, only sharing with Anthon and Tuecer.

“Celestia,” he breathed, “The Royal Academy of Medicine. You’re a wonder Tonia. I’m ridiculously proud of you,” he murmured, “Selfish as it may be, I’m glad I got to hear it in person first.”

“Yeah,” she giggled, “Me too, since I really wanted a hug!”

“I’ll give you all the hugs you want!” He trapped her in his arms again with glee. “Anything you want missy! Let me know, and I’ll find it for you! Aish,” he gasped, “You need new clothes. If you’re attending school in the capital, you’ll need to update your wardrobe. Tell me when, and I’ll take you shopping, okay?”

“Ajax!” She puffed out her cheeks with a blush. Ah, yes. Ajax. “You don’t need to spoil me! Don’t waste your money!”

“Ah, but I want to spoil you Tasha!” He laughed, “I’ve got money to burn.”

“Ugh,” Tonia stuck her tongue out, “I don’t believe you.”

“He has some, at least,” Irina interjected, “If that fur coat and suit he was wearing the other day were anything to go by.”

“Suit? Fur?” Tonia scrunched up her face.

“Yeah, he was at my ballet. That’s where I ran into him. Had a man on his arm, dripping with jewelry too,” she said with a slightly suspicious tone.

“A man?” Tonia ignored all the hints in Irina’s words. “You said you left Liyue in a hurry? A rebound?” She grilled him, dragging him to chair.

“Liyue?” Irina rose a brow, “He was Liyuen.”

“Ah!” Tonia slapped her hand over her mouth, “Yasha! Spill, the, beans!” She grabbed his hand in excitement.

“Well, if you insist,” he sighed in a fake way, “I did leave in a hurry. Well, my objective in Liyue had been dealt with and I was going to come home anyway, but well. He lied to me about something really important, and I… got upset? I didn’t let him explain at all, I just wanted to be done, you see. Turns out he has some ties with the Fatui, and didn’t tell me he was involved in everything. It sucked, a lot, like rubbed in my face kind of crap.”

“That son of a bitch,” Tonia snarled, crossing her arms.

“You had a boyfriend double cross you?” Irina asked, intrigued.

“Kinda, yeah. Well, no, actually he was helping out, but it felt super patronizing,” he sighed, “Anyway, came home, and was super pissed off. Some coworkers noticed and it… got around to my superior officer,” he shrugged. He was careful with his wording, as they knew he was Fatui, but not a Harbinger. “She and he go way back I guess, and next thing I know, he’s chased me to Snezhnaya to apologize!”

“Aww,” Tonia cooed, “So, Mister Zhongli and you are still together?”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “Somehow, we are. He’s back home right now, reading.”

“Yes!” Tonia cheered, “You were so cute writing about him! Ajax, I’m so happy for you! Ahhh, a boyfriend!” She squealed.

“Huh,” Irina said, “Congratulations then.”

“Thanks…” he said slowly, “He’s, well he’s amazing.”

“I want to meet him!” Tonia demanded, hands slapping the table, “He better be good enough for you!”

“Uh, he’s so out of my league Tonia,” Childe sunk back into his chair, “He’s beyond perfect, and he like… really understands me? Or does his best to, and learns really fast.”

“Ajax, you make it sound like you’re a hard person to understand?” Tonia let out a short laugh.

“I… am,” Childe said slowly, eyes darting to Irina.

“Well,” Irina caught the look, “If a boyfriend can do it, your big sister should be able to figure it out too, right?”

“But… why?” Childe asked incredulously. “Look, I’m very happy you brought Tonia to see me. You know the parents don’t really like it, but you did it anyway, so thanks. But I have to ask, why?”

“Ajax,” Tonia admonished. She knew it was true. She knew that there was a divide between Childe and their entire family. She just was too young to fully understand why. She knew something happened that got him sent to the military, but she had been so tiny when it happened.

“Well,” Irina leaned against her hand, looking between Ajax and Tonia, “I’ve been a sh*t sister for one. I mean… look at you two. I didn’t even know you were important enough to be sent on overseas missions. I didn’t even know you were gay.” Childe didn’t interrupt, even though he wanted to, he still didn’t understand any of this. Why she was trying so hard? “Look, when I moved out here I had a bit of a rude awakening,” she said, resting her head in her hands, “The small town bullsh*t that we grew up with. None of that crap matters out here, in the real world.” She waved her hands a bit erratically. “I realized just how f*cked up the way our parents treated you was. That they gave more of a damn about what our neighbors thought than what was hurting you.”

“I was fine,” Childe lied.

“Bullsh*t Ajax,” she hissed, “You were fourteen, traumatized by something none of us understood. And what did our family do? Toss you out to make it someone else’s problem. I was a kid too, I am not trying to push the blame off myself, but… I thought our parents knew everything, that they were doing what was best for you, that we… we had to just do what they said, because it was right. And you… you were so needy as a kid. You never listened to our parents, and… in my mind that made you a nuisance. I’m sorry I thought that way. Looking back, I can see what a different childhood we had. I… I was older when Pa started drinking. When Mama started to work again. I could handle it, and you… couldn’t. Well you did, but not well.”

“I was fine,” Childe said again, a bit firmer this time.

We weren’t Childe… Ajax wasn’t fine, we weren’t okay. We’re the testament to that.

“Ugh,” Childe said, rubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“Ajax…?” Tonia gently pulled his hands away from his face.

“I’m not the only one who’s been thinking this,” Irina got up and moved to a chair closer to him, “Mikhail has too, we’ve… been talking about it. But regardless, if… if it’s not too late, I want to have a relationship with you. I want to know my little brother. I want to know that he has a handsome boyfriend, that he’s happy.” She gently touched his arm, eyes reflecting his own, in a teary gaze.

“Irina,” he sniffled, trying to rub his eyes again, “I… I don’t hate you. Just so you know, you… it’s hard to verbalize.” He felt at a loss for a few moments. “Look… I don’t know if I can trust you. But… if you want to try. Then…. Okay,” he nodded slowly, “Let’s try.”

Irina’s gaze softened even more and she surprisingly brought her arms around him, and gave him a tight hug. Childe closed his eyes and just leaned into it. It felt surprisingly nice. Tonia nearly crawled into his lap to join the hug, which made him chuckle a little.

“Thank you Ajax,” Irina breathed, “Thank you for giving me another chance. I hope… well we can let this settle, but I know Mikhail has been wanting to reach out to you for a while too.”

“Where is he anyway?” Childe asked pulling away a bit.

“Oh, he’s working in Northland Bank, here in the city,” She hummed.

“Excuse me?” He coughed in disbelief, “That’s a state run bank.”

“I mean, we know it’s run by a Harbinger,” Irina waved her hand, “But it’s still a bank.”

“Uh-huh,” Ajax felt his eyes tear up, trying to hold back laughter at her naivety.

“What?” She gave him a deadpan look.

“Just saying,” Ajax wiped his eyes, “I technically was a an account manager at Northland for an entire year while I was in Liyue. But you know, just a bank.”

“Oh,” Irina paled, “Well… it’s just a bank here, right?”

“Probably?” Childe shrugged, “I’ve never worked in the Snezhnayan branches. But I hope no one in Snezhnaya is dumb enough to not pay back debts to a Fatui owned bank.”

“And… Liyuens are?” Tonia asked slowly.

“Yeah, I mean, the really, really dumb ones,” Childe wiped his eyes. “Treasure hoarders, gamblers, even a few of our own thought they could get away with not paying loans back since they were in Liyue.”

“So, you’re a debt collection agent?” Irina asked, “I guess that fits.”

“Sure,” Childe nodded once.

“That makes me feel like it isn’t true,” she said dryly.

“Because I’m pretty sure it isn’t,” Tonia said skeptically. “C’mon Ajax, you never talk about work! And Tuecer, bless his little heart, still thinks you sell toys! I’m old enough to understand what you do!”

“Look Tonia, it isn’t that I don’t think you’d understand,” he tried to pacify her.

“Pretty sure it is,” she grouched. He was going to reply, when a sharp knock rang through the door. They all paused, before Tonia reflexively called, “Come in!” He cringed immediately when an agent dressed as a waiter opened the door, looking rather fretful.

“You good?” Irina asked, giving the agent a reproachful look.

“Sir,” he began, his voice shaking nervously.

Uh-oh. Is it my turn?

“Report,” Childe said firmly, feeling Tartaglia lingering on the edge of his subconscious.

“Sir, I know I wasn’t supposed to disturb you,” he said with a bowed head, “But you’re the only high ranking member close enough to report to. There’s been an incident at the Capitol Building. A group of so called freedom fighters are holding clerks hostage, demanding an audience with Her Majesty.”

“Is Harbinger Pulcinella on the scene?” He asked, feeling his control of their body disappear.

“No sir, he’s traveling,” the man responded, “No actively Fatui presence is at at the scene.”

“How many hostiles?” Tartaglia asked, doing his best to untangle himself from his sisters.

“Fifteen sir.”

“Fifteen?” He snorted, “You’re calling me in to take care of fifteen hostiles?”

“They have visions sir…”

“Ugh, fine,” he rolled his eyes, “Take these two to safety. If a single hair on their heads in out of place,” he stalked towards the agent, “I’ll make sure you never see your family again, understood?”

“Y-yes my lord!” He bowed immediately.

“Ajax…?” Tonia stood up, her fine brows furrowed in confusion.

“Listen to him, and do as your told,” Tartaglia looked down at her, “I’ll find you soon enough, yes?”

“O…okay,” Tonia nodded slowly, looking at him with so much apprehension. He knew Childe wouldn’t like this, but work came first. It always did. Irina stood up and joined Tonia. Both his sister were watching him with confusion laced expressions. He did not really want to deal with it, the super sappy emotions or trying to calm them down. They were civilians. They just wouldn’t understand.

“I want all on hand agents evacuating the nearby blocks,” he barked, “This shouldn’t get messy, but I’m not going to chance civilian casualties.”

“Harbinger Tartaglia!” An agent jogged up to him. He could hear his sisters gasp. He wouldn’t look back, he wouldn’t do it. “Your delusion,” she offered it up with two hands.

“Goodness,” he laughed brusquely, “You were so certain I’d take this on you sent a runner to the Palace?” He grabbed the offered mask and pinned it in his hair.

“Sir, respectfully,” she said dryly. He recognized her, she was a lower rank in his battalion. “When would you ever refuse a fight?”

He laughed out sharply and patted her shoulder, “Remind me later to promote you. I like you, you’ve got fire!” She beamed and nodded her head eagerly. “Keep clearing blocks, if the fight gets intense go into a full on evacuation, understood?”

“Yes my lord!” She nodded, “Good luck, may the Tsaritsa’s reign be everlasting!” He did not look back, he wouldn’t look back to see the horror on his sisters’ faces. He would continue to move forward. That was what he was best at. Keep moving forward, get stronger, you gain nothing by letting the past chain you down. He repeated that in his head and he broke in a brisk walk, summoning hydro swords, letting them spin as he approached his mission.

No going back.

—

He was certainly sticky. Blood tended to do that when it dried. He wondered if Zhongli would be grossed out. Or would the dragon help him wash it off? His mind felt like a blur. Childe’s sweater was ruined. His relationship with his family was destroyed. He had just killed fifteen people. Fifteen people would not see their families again. It should have caused him pause, but it didn’t. They should have known better than to go against their beloved Archon. They knew a Harbinger of death would come knocking on their door eventually. He wasn’t responsible for people making dumb decisions.

Childe was aching. He was sure of it. Tartaglia couldn’t feel him, he was hiding. Tartaglia felt a small bit of remorse, but it really wasn’t his fault. They had pledged allegiance to a Goddess. They had a role to play. Even if it meant losing their little siblings. Even if that thought hurt him more than he ever expected it to.

Tartaglia always thought he didn’t care. It was probably time to reassess that notion. Their little siblings brought Childe so much joy, and by proxy, seeing Childe so happy made him happy. So, yes, he did care about them, in a roundabout way. There was distance though, since they did not know him, only Childe. That didn’t change the fact that he’d kill for them though. Tartaglia was mildly surprised by the rush of emotions going through his mind. Had he always been this sentimental, and just denied it? He tried to clear the thoughts from his head as he approached his suite. He’d bathe, try to coax Childe out and then find wherever his sisters were sequestered to.

He pushed the door open with probably a bit more force than necessary. He shut the door behind him and listened for movement. Sure enough, there was a slide of slippered feet and the swish of long pants. The door to the sitting room was pushed open and Zhongli emerged, face creased in gentle concern.

“Tartaglia, are you injured?” Zhongli fretted, coming closer and pushing aside layers of clothes where the blood was the heaviest. A little warm broke through his icy facade. Of course Zhongli wasn’t bothered by a bit of blood.

“What do you take me for, you big lizard?” Tartaglia’s huffed, but wrapped his arms around Zhongli, burying his face into the other man’s neck. Zhongli did not hesitate and hold him tightly. Everything was f*cked, everything with his family was a mess, and yet, Zhongli was still here, carding his long fingers through the knots in his hair. Tartaglia squeezed his eyes tightly. He wouldn’t cry. He wasn’t allowed to, he shouldn’t even want to.

The first wet drops on Zhongli’s neck seemed to startle him, just as much as it startled Tartaglia. The dragon’s grip on him tightened and firm kisses were placed on his head. Zhongli was here. Zhongli wouldn’t leave them.

“Shh,” Zhongli crooned, rocking slowly as a silent sob racked through his body, “Tell me what ails you my love?”

“I f*cked it up,” he whispered, voice muffled. “I f*cked everything up for Childe. He’s going to hate me. I hate me. Our sisters… f*ck Zhongli.”

“Tartaglia,” Zhongli gently peeled him back, “You did nothing wrong. Do not punish yourself, please love.” Zhongli’s hands wandered to Tartaglia’s, forcing them to unclench, and rubbing soothing circles over the crescents Tartaglia’s nails left in his own skin.

“I know I didn’t have a choice,” he hissed, “But, why? Why is it always like this?” He looked up at Zhongli, swallowing harshly. “We get something we want, so, so close to us. And then it’s gone! We break it, because we’re a mess! And normally that wouldn’t bother me, I like chaos, I like the fight!”

“Maybe,” Zhongli’s voice was so smooth and deep as he cradled Tartaglia’s face in his hands, “It is because you are healing. Because you are opening yourselves up to others. Pain and disappointment coming along with that, but the rewards. Oh, my dear treasure, the rewards can be so, so sweet, can’t they?” Zhongli looked at him with such tender eyes, such a deep well of love. Tartaglia fell into him, processing the words. Were they healing? Was Zhongli their first step? It was true that everyone was kept at an arm’s length before Zhongli came into their life. But why did it have to hurt so much?

Tartaglia did his best to calm his breathing, holding on to Zhongli. He needed to bathe, to get clean and wash this all away before anything else. When he felt a bit steadier, he pulled away from Zhongli, gently trying to pull him to the bathroom.

“Ah,” Zhongli looked a bit sheepish, “I would love to help you wash treasure, but…” His golden eyes flickered towards the sitting room. “I do not wish for our guests to be left unattended.” Tartaglia felt a bit of a chill run through him. His sisters. Had they heard his outburst? Surely not, right? “Bathe and join us,” Zhongli kissed his temple, “Everything will be alright my warrior.”

Tartaglia nodded numbly and robotically went to wash up. Normally he derived a bit of pleasure from this. From the methodical cleaning, watching the water turn red. He was too distracted to even think about it. He found a set of soft lounge clothes on the bed. Zhongli must have pulled them out for him. They weren’t what he’d normally chose, but Zhongli was probably right that he needed a little comfort this evening. Putting them on felt a bit like a death sentence. A noose tightening around his neck. Once he was dressed, he would have to face his sister, to listen to their ridicule. He had to do it, to pull the bandage off no matter how much it hurt. If he didn’t, it would never heal. It had to be him, he couldn’t ask Childe to do it. He was made for this, he could take the hurt.

He took a few deep breaths as he walked towards the sitting room. He couldn’t hear much, which wasn’t helping alleviate any of his worry. When he opened the door, the first thing he felt was warmth, the fire was going and a tea set was on the table.

He wasn’t prepared for a weight to crash into him, and stumbled back a few steps. Blankly, he looked down at Tonia. She had her weak arms wrapped around him like a lasso, trapping him. Her face was buried in his chest. Man, she had gotten so tall. He awkwardly patted her head a few times. Was this good? Was this okay? He looked over to Zhongli and Irina. Zhongli looked at him, as he always did, with adoration. Irina looked sad. Or maybe it was anger. Emotions weren’t his strong suit. He had a hard time reading them, especially when they were subdued.

“Hey,” Tartaglia said gruffly, trying his best to detach Tonia without hurting her.

“No,” Tonia’s muffled voice grouched.

“Miss Tonia,” Zhongli carefully spoke, “Tartaglia is probably tired, why don’t we let him sit down?” She stiffened and actually had the gall to pull back and glare at Zhongli. Celestia, what did Zhongli do? She begrudgingly pulled Tartaglia to a cushioned seat and shoved him down, curling up next to him.

“Thank you Miss Tonia,” Zhongli said, unaffected by the mighty glare. “Would you like some tea Tartaglia?” Zhongli asked, moving to pour him a cup before he’d even answered.

“Stop that!” Tonia yelled, spinning away from Tartaglia to look at Zhongli.

“Tonia,” Irina gasped, “I’m so sorry she’s… apologize Tonia!”

“No, he keeps calling Ajax by a damn title!” Tonia hissed, “That’s not his name!” Zhongli blinked slowly, stilling completely. Tartaglia shared a look with Zhongli, but no words came to his mind to explain this. “It’s obvious Ajax is upset!” Tonia continued, “Big brother is obviously uncomfortable with you calling him that! He’s so much more than, than a title!”

“Tonia,” Tartaglia rubbed his brow in building frustration, “Apologize to Zhongli. He is not upsetting me.”

“Then what is?” Tonia turned her glare to him, “You’re not acting like yourself. Yeah, we learned something big today. That quite frankly, you should have just told me! Do you really think that this would change anything Ajax? That I wouldn’t still love you? You’re my big brother, the best brother ever! How could I…? How could I not love you?”

“I…” Tartaglia stared at her, his words dying in his lips.

“Why are you acting so cold?” She asked, getting teary eyed.

“f*ck,” Tartaglia groaned and Tonia immediately let go of him, staring at him like he grew a second head. “What now?” He sighed looking at her right back.

“You don’t ever curse in front of me,” she said seriously.

“…I don’t?” Tartaglia blinked, that was news to him.

“Did you hit your head?” She asked, “You always make a big deal about speaking properly, and that Anthon and Tuecer would pick up on it, and that you didn’t want that.”

“Ah,” Tartaglia said weakly, “…Cool…”

“Tartaglia,” Zhongli shook his head laughing softly.

“How was I supposed to know?” Tartaglia whined.

“You normally do,” Zhongli poured a cup of tea and set it in front of him. Tartaglia huffed and downed at least half of it. Zhongli sighed fondly and kissed the side of his head.

“What… are you even talking about?” Irina asked, squinting her eyes. Zhongli paused, looking at Tartaglia in question. It was up to him, all the others weren’t there, it was his choice if it was time to come clean. If he didn’t do it now, then it may be even harder in the future. “Seriously Ajax,” she murmured, “You’re scaring me a bit.”

“Don’t call me that,” Tartaglia said, without any bite, “Call me Tartaglia please.”

“No?” Tonia scoffed, “That’s not your name.”

“Yes, it is,” he tried to explain.

“What just because you’re a big bad Harbinger we can’t call you by your name?” Tonia fired back.

“f*ck, why am I the one that has to do this?” Tartaglia said to no one in particular. “I’m sh*t at this, I kill stuff, not… talk over tea! This is Childe’s gig, not mine!”

“Patience darling,” Zhongli cooed, taking his hand, “Is Childe available?”

“No,” he sulked.

“Then it is your gig today,” Zhongli chuckled, threading their fingers together. “Would you like help?” He murmured brushing their noses together.

“Please,” Tartaglia grumbled.

“This is Tartaglia,” Zhongli said to the two very confused women, “You are probably not as familiar with him, as you are with Childe.”

“What… do you mean?” Irina had abandoned her tea, clenching her hands together.

“I’m different than him,” Tartaglia said gruffly, “He’s soft, and frivolous. He cares about how his hair looks, and how people see him. He likes to spoil everyone, to spend money. He’s… not me. He’s Childe, and I’m Tartaglia. I am the one you do not see. The one on missions, the one who fights.”

“There is much more to you than that,” Zhongli huffed.

“There… are you saying you have like a split personality?” Irina’s brows kept raising.

“Ew, don’t call it that,” Tartaglia scoffed, “It’s called Dissociative Identity Disorder.”

“I’ve… I’ve heard of that,” Tonia’s eyes went wide.

“You have?” Tartaglia blinked at her in surprise.

“Well, I am going to a prestigious medical school soon,” she crossed her arms petulantly. “So there’s you, Tartaglia, and… Childe?” She clarified.

“Childe is who you normally interact with,” Tartaglia waved his hand, “ He’s good with people. I’m good at killing them.”

“You have many skills darling,” Zhongli rolled his eyes, “Such as field medicine, cooking, and boxing.”

“Essential skills,” Tartaglia waved it off.

“So, there’s two people, in one?” Irina asked slowly, “Why? How does it happen?”

“Normally there are more than that,” Tonia interjected cautiously, “And… well from trauma.”

“f*ck,” Irina’s head dropped into her hands.

“To be fair, I’ve been around for way longer than you think,” Tartaglia shook his head, “And well, Childe and I are the only functioning adults in the system.”

“System?” Irina looked overwhelmed.

“A group of alters, personalities, inhabiting the same body,” Zhongli chimed in.

“The other two,” Tartaglia made a face, “Look I love them, but they need chaperones. Ajax is like, four times eight years old, and I would not trust him with anything but reading board books, and Legacy would try to eat you.”

“Excuse me?” Tonia coughed.

“There are four alters,” Zhongli wrapped an arm around Tartaglia, sensing his frustration. “You know Childe, he is the one that visits you. Tartaglia takes care of a lot of the heavy Fatui field work. Ajax is a younger version of them, probably the closest to the little boy you would remember Irina. Legacy is… special. He would probably not speak with you, though I do not think he would hurt you either. He is a protector. He steps in when Tartaglia cannot handle a situation.”

“So… I’ve been calling you the wrong name ever since I was born?” Tonia looked mortified.

“Well, we didn’t get names until the Tsaritsa gave them to us,” Tartaglia shrugged nonchalantly. “But… you don’t… hate us, right?” He winced while saying it. “Childe is gonna kill me if you do,” he added.

“Aj- Tartaglia,” Tonia stumbled, “You’re my big brother… big brothers?” It was actually pretty endearing to watch her process it aloud. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” she huffed, and crashed into his arms.

His heart rate slowed and for once, he was the one she meant to hug.

Chapter 5: Cracks in Stone

Chapter Text

Zhongli pressed a kiss to his lover’s head. Tartaglia had been out on a mission today, and had come back exhausted. There had been a lot weighing on his boys recently. Work and family being the heaviest among them. It had been no surprise when his warrior trekked back into their rooms and passed out on the couch. Zhongli had done his best to clean up their body and get them settled into bed.

He now watched the rise and fall of his partner’s chest, the occasional hitch disrupting it. He couldn’t help but lean over again and rest his lips over their brow, kissing tenderly, hoping to chase away whatever plagued their dreams.

The thought gave him pause. He could very well do that. Though the question of if it would be considered an invasion of privacy was prevalent as well. Zhongli ran a thumb over his treasure’s cheek, he could very well wait to speak with whoever woke up the next morning, but now he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Could he sleep knowing that he could be with them even in the hours of sleep that normally separated them? No, he was being impatient, and he wanted to see if it would work, if it was even possible.

With a excited little breath, he settled into the bed, curling into his partners’ body, stealing the warmth their body provided. He closed his eyes and focused on his own breathing. This technique had not come naturally to him, yet it proved most useful when communicating with his citizens and other Adepti. He allowed something close to sleep take him, causing his mind to sink into the darkness.

Zhongli was met with a harsh cold that ate at his very bones and stole his breath from him. He opened his eyes to reveal a tundra, snowing and storming around him. In the distance, sat a small house, lights bright and the only sign of warmth in the surrounding area.

Gathering his wits, he forced his protesting body up, and towards the cabin. The snow was thick and his legs got stuck easily. Zhongli found himself sweating and freezing all at once as he managed to crawl on to the snow dusted porch. He heaved out a few breaths and took in the area once more, now that he was somewhat safe. He squinted and in the distance, he thought he could see another cabin, but it was unclear, blurry from the falling flurries. A shiver ran through him, and reminded him to seek shelter.

Zhongli tried the door first, surprised to find it unlocked. He wasted no time slinking into the warmth, consequences be damned. He shivered harshly and looked into the small space. It was akin to a log cabin, cozy and dim. The only light seemed to come from the fireplace and a few strategically placed candles. A fairly utilitarian bed was against one wall, and few weapons cluttered the only table in the space. There weren’t many decorations on the walls, but there was one photo on top of the fireplace’s mantle. He slowly got closer and joy lit his soul. It was a formal picture of him, one he did not recall ever taking. The floor boards creaked behind him, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Li?” A deep voice called in confusion. Zhongli looked over his shoulder to see someone. He looked like his lovers’ and yet, he didn’t at the same time. He was taller than them, but his hair and eyes were the same color. No light reflecting in those deep pools. The ginger hair was buzzed on the sides of his head, and his body was broader, more muscular. More scars littered his body, one ran right over his eye. He was terribly handsome, a more rugged version of his partner. The man looked confused, but shook his head. “Damn I must be tired,” he huffed and walked over. “Come here,” he said, wrapping an arm around Zhongli with ease. “Already dreaming…” The man froze as he engulfed Zhongli in his arms. He stared down hard, eyes narrowing. “Why in abyss are you wet?” He mumbled to himself, like he wasn’t expecting Zhongli to reply.

“Because of the snow,” Zhongli said slowly, placing a hand on the man’s chest. It was Tartaglia, it had to be. The cadence of his speech, his mannerisms. Was this what Tartaglia looked like? How he saw himself?

“Excuse me?” Tartaglia coughed suddenly, holding Zhongli back at arms length.

“Tartaglia?” Zhongli raised his voice in concern.

“You’re talking,” he said slowly, eyes flitting all over Zhongli’s face.

“Why would I not be?” Zhongli huffed in mild amusem*nt, “I speak quite frequently, may I remind you.”

“You’re… real,” he said, inching closer, “How are… you’re real and your here.”

“Indeed,” Zhongli rumbled, rather pleased with himself, “It is an Adeptal Art I learned from Xiao many moons ago.”

“You,” Tartaglia laughed softly, shaking his head in disbelief, “There is still so much to learn about you.”

“You were under the impression I was not real, why was that? Where exactly are we?” Zhongli asked, curling his cold body into Tartaglia’s defined body.

“Some would call it an inner world,” Tartaglia explained, pulling Zhongli to the bed, and wrapping him in blankets. “It’s where we go when we aren’t fronting or co-fronting. We still live our lives while inside.”

“Fascinating,” Zhongli’s eyes lit up in wonder, “And as to me?”

“Ah,” Tartaglia’s face reddened a smidge, “Well, I mean, uh.”

“Tartaglia,” Zhongli crooned, pulling the handsome man towards him, “Whatever you say will most likely just endear you to me more, despite how embarrassing it may seem to you.” Zhongli pressed a small kiss to the corner of the ginger’s lips, to soothe him further.

“When… when I’m tired, or have had a bad day,” he stuttered out, “You… you show up in my dreams. You don’t talk. You’re just there… with me.”

“And it brings you comfort?” Zhongli asked, soft and gently.

“Of course,” Tartaglia murmured, leaning closer to Zhongli, their faces nuzzling together. Zhongli let out a pleased churr, an inhuman sound for certain. He stopped it as soon as he could. “Hey,” Tartaglia pulled away just so they could see each other, “Don’t, don’t… hold it back? We know you aren’t human, you don’t have to play at it if you don’t want to.”

“I am to live as a human though,” Zhongli huffed, feeling frustrated, mostly at himself.

“Yeah?” Tartaglia snorted, unimpressed. “Zhongli, you don’t have to be human to retire… just, ugh, I’m going to sound like Childe for a second. Probably because he’s said something like this before. But just do whatever makes you comfortable. Like… how you made us comfortable. Like how we’re okay being ourselves around you. We want that for you. No facades, no titles or burdens. Just… whoever you are.”

“Whoever I am?” Zhongli chuckled lightly. “It may sound silly, considering it is you I am speaking with, but, I am many and none at all.” He shook his head slowly, “There are days I do not know who I am, what I am anymore. I simply take one step at a time. I have lost much of my identity to those who have left me behind. To those who held me on a pedestal. I am… I was what they needed me to be. Without them, I often ponder what I am in actuality.”

“Oh,” Tartaglia swallowed, “Oh we are getting really deep. This is not my specialty.” The very words made Zhongli chuckle. He greatly appreciated the simple and straightforward words of Tartaglia. He knew his warrior would not try to placate him with pretty words, simply because the man lacked the capacity to do so.

“That is alright my treasure,” Zhongli gently stroked his chest, admiring the appearance before him. “I do not expect you to know, or to even try to decipher my… identity crisis.”

“Doesn’t mean that you should just… I don’t know, bottle it up?” Tartaglia grouched, “Isn’t that what you’ve been trying to get me to do?”

“It is simply not your responsibility,” Zhongli smiled soothingly.

“And our mind, or trauma is yours?” Tartaglia spat, looking peeved, “Look, you can’t spout all this sh*t about use healing, and getting more comfortable with ourselves and then… then hide away and lick whatever f*cking wounds you have. Not fair. Not gonna happen. If you’re going to help us, than we’re going to help you for abyss’ sake.”

“I…” Zhongli blinked slowly at the outburst, “I did not mean it in that way Tartaglia. I did not mean to offend you if I have. I simply… while I do advocate for you and the system strengthening your bonds, and accepting others into your lives, I am… I am different topic. A different scenario.”

“Not really?” Tartaglia scowled down at him, crossing his arms indignantly. “f*ck,” he groaned, running his fingers through his short curls, “Childe, we’re gonna go find Childe,” he declared, breaking away from Zhongli completely. He brusquely walked over to a wardrobe and pulled out a thick blanket. He stalked back and without even asking for Zhongli’s opinion, wrapped it around the dragon, like a roll.

“I was rather cold,” Zhongli said with a small smile, “Though what does-“ Zhongli’s question was cut off as Tartaglia took it upon himself to hoist Zhongli into his arms. Zhongli let out a startled hiss, and his hands found purchase on Tartaglia’s shoulders.

“Hmph,” Tartaglia looked rather smug about the whole thing. He squeezed Zhongli’s waist, readjusting his grip. Zhongli watched his with eyes as wide as the moon. Catching his reflection in a mirror, he could easily see how wide his slit pupils had expanded, giving away his innermost thoughts. “Cute,” Tartaglia said simply, before shouldering his way outside into the heavy snow. “You warm enough?” He asked, surveying the snowfield.

“I…” Zhongli struggled for words, “As much as I can be,” he forced out. He hope Tartaglia would mistake his reddening cheeks for windchill, instead of the heavy blush it was. Tartaglia’s grip tightened, cradling the dragon closer to his chest. With expert movements, Tartaglia waded out into the snow. It was falling with less ferocity now, more like a gentle drift than the blizzard he faced walking to the cabin. “The weather is better,” Zhongli noted, his fingers idly tracing the scars and freckles scattered over his lover’s neck.

“Yes,” Tartaglia agreed, with a small twitch of his lips, betraying a smile. “Because of you.”

“Me?” Zhongli blinked owlishly, “How so? I was unaware I could control the weather,” he teased.

“Well,” Tartaglia shrugged, “It’s not the real weather. It’s… us as a whole? I think, that’s how it works anyway. It is almost always snowing here, but the way we’re feeling effects the environment. I was having a bad day, and Childe was feeding off of it, so… snowstorm.”

“And me being here…?” Zhongli drawled out, wanting to hear Tartaglia say it.

“Soothes me, us,” he huffed, but it came out smoother each time he said it. “So… gentler weather.”

“It may sounds repetitive,” Zhongli purred low in his throat, “But it pleases me to no end that I have such an effect on you. That there is such a visible impact.”

“Hm,” Tartaglia glanced down at Zhongli, a little crinkle of happiness in his eyes. Zhongli’s arms looped around Tartaglia’s neck, and pulled himself closer, nuzzling into the warmth of his pulse point. Tartaglia’s head dipped to the side, resting on top of Zhongli’s as his throat was lathed in small kisses. It felt almost hypnotic, the heat of Tartaglia’s skin, the rush of his pulse, the rhythmic sound of his breathing.

He was startled out of his reverie by the sound of Tartaglia’s boots scuffing against wooden planking. He blinked his eyes open, and could feel the countless snowflakes dotting his skin and hair melt. A large cabin loomed in front of them. Much larger than the little shack Tartaglia lived in. It seemed homier than the other building, more maintained. Tartaglia brushed a kiss to his forehead and scuffed his boot on the covered patio’s floor, knocking off the snow. He readjusted his grip on Zhongli, so he could knock firmly on the door.

There was a scuffle behind the door, and soon the heavy wooden door was pulled open. A young man, younger than Tartaglia appeared. His hair was curled perfectly, and his freckled skin was flawless, not a scar in sight. His blue eyes did not reflect any light, much like Tartaglia’s, but they were wider, not as clouded or deep in color. He was shorter, with not as much muscle, more softness in his face, in the curve of his body. He looked up, blue identical blue eyes widening, looking between Zhongli and Tartaglia. His full pink lips parted in surprise. He was gorgeous, and it made Zhongli’s heart stutter in his chest.

“What… what?” He managed to stutter out. Oh his voice, sweet like syrup, like syrup drizzled over soft and silky almond tofu. Simply delectable. “Tartaglia, what’s… Zhongli?” He asked furrowing his brow in bafflement.

“Hello dear,” Zhongli murmured, reaching out to Childe.

“How?” Childe gasped, rushing out into the cold, and placing his cheek into Zhongli’s palm. Tartaglia huffed softly, and corralled Childe using his free arm, urging him to allow them inside. Childe pawed at Zhongli, as if he was trying to free him from Tartaglia’s arms. Zhongli indulged him a little, running his fingers through those angelic curls, causing the young man’s eyes to turn into crescents. Tartaglia forced them inside, kicking the door shut.

“Quiet,” Childe snapped, “Ajax is sleeping.”

“sh*t sorry,” Tartaglia mumbled, bumping against Childe gently. Childe huffed, but urged both of them to the couch. As soon as Tartaglia was sitting, Childe was on them, curling up against Zhongli, eyes shimmering with excitement, and trapping his fellow alter.

“What adeptal bull is this?” Childe giggled, eyes sparkling in delight. His hands ran over Zhongli’s chest, warm hands worming underneath the blanket.

“Simple dream walking,” Zhongli replied gently, “I should have thought of it much earlier. It allows me to enter your inner mind.” Childe looked delighted, glancing up to Tartaglia with a mischievous expression. “Childe,” Zhongli crooned gently, “Look at you.” He gently brought their faces together, “Radiant, aren’t you?”

“Ah,” Childe squeaked softly, a blush overtaking his cheeks. He ducked his head, burying it in the wool blanket from Tartaglia’s cabin. Zhongli couldn’t help but run his fingers through the silky soft locks of Childe’s hair in fascination.

“You are beautiful,” Zhongli murmured, warmth like the sun seeping into his tone. “Both of you. I could not imagine how gorgeous you both are. How perfectly you present yourselves.”

“No need for flattery,” Tartaglia huffed, a large hand coming to rest on Zhongli’s head. Zhongli let out that small churr again, unfortunately reminding himself of the reason they traversed the snow to find Childe. Tartaglia rose a brow and glanced down at him. Zhongli was still so snuggly wrapped up in his lap, and now Childe had planted himself over both of them, humming softly and sweetly.

“You do not need to broach this subject,” Zhongli huffed, cutting off his churr.

“I think we do,” Tartaglia countered, “And it’s easier like this. So we will discuss it now.” Tartaglia effectively cut off any chance of Zhongli postponing the conversation to a later date.

“What subject?” Childe asked, popping his head up to watch the two men.

“Zhongli seems to be convinced that he must act as a human, since he decided to retire as one,” Tartaglia said bluntly.

“That’s silly,” Childe huffed, a pout playing across his face, “That the fact you are a dragon isn’t only attractive to Legacy, you know?” He sat up more, leveling Zhongli with a gaze, “I’m not sure what you two discussed before you trudged over here, but Zhongli, what about this… makes you uncomfortable?”

“It is not that I am uncomfortable,” he kneaded unconsciously at the blanket, wishing his talons were out to catch the fabric, “It is simply that I do not wish to burden you, or put undue stress on you, when you all have been overwhelmed as of late.”

“Perhaps,” Childe, said gently, running his fingers over the back of Zhongli’s hands. “But, well, correct me if I am wrong, but we are partners. We share our burdens, our troubles, because… well, you taught me that it’s easier to shoulder the weight, when it is shared on two… or well, five shoulders.”

“You… are not… wrong,” Zhongli sighed heavily, “It is just hard to share, I suppose.” He gnawed at his lip, “For it is something I have carried alone for centuries.”

“This seems deeper than simply retirement,” Childe commented gently, laying little kisses over Zhongli’s exposed wrists.

“Why do you think I brought him to you?” Tartaglia asked gruffly, “Out of my depth with this… emotional exploration.”

“You give yourself too little credit,” Childe countered, with a quick eye roll. “Zhongli,” he blinked those beautiful eyes at Zhongli, “Can you… if you’re comfortable, can you tell me more?”

“It is nothing so serious,” Zhongli simply waved a hand, “It is… I do not wish to call it a crisis, because that word is much too nuanced, but, as I retired, as I have lived in life, I find my identity… in limbo.” Zhongli leaned back into Tartaglia. “As I said, it is not a serious issue or one I have not dealt with before.”

“I’m not sure I follow completely,” Childe murmured, slinking up Zhongli’s body, nuzzling his nose to Zhongli’s cheek.

“I am simply struggling without any expectations of me,” Zhongli ran a hand down Childe’s back. “For most of my life, I have had some form of… duty, that had followed me. Duty to protect the Guili Assembly, duty to Liyue as it’s Archon. Duty to my people, to lead them to a prosperous life. For the first time, I find myself not defined by others’ expectations, or least to the degree I was before.”

“So, you’re having a hard time deciding who you wish to be in retirement?” Childe’s brows scrunched up, with a clear opinion in his mind.

“To some extent, yes,” Zhongli sighed, “To not be placed on a pedestal, a paragon for others, is a strange notion to me. How do I define myself?”

“I… personal identity is important,” Childe said slowly, like the cogs in his head were churning. “But Zhongli, you have an identity. You just choose to… box it up.” Childe’s face twisted slightly as he spoke, “You’re a bit like us, but you… don’t handle it the same way.”

“Elaborate for me?” Zhongli asked, running a thumb over Childe’s face, to smooth the wrinkled skin.

“You… isolate,” Childe looked like he was struggling to put things to words, “You don’t blend different eras of your life well. You separate them, keep those barriers rigid. We work together, embrace our differences and help each other. You compartmentalize your different selves, the different parts of your life.”

“You,” Zhongli tilted his head slowly to one side, “I am afraid you are confusing me somewhat.”

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia sighed, “We’ve noticed that you do talk about the past, but it’s… removed. Not personal.” Zhongli shifted, listening. “We understand, probably better than anyone else, that there’s underlying things you don’t really want to talk about.” Tartaglia ran a hand down Zhongli’s arm in a soothing manner. “But… like you have told us, we echo you. We will love every side of you,” he murmured, “Every side, every crack, every rough edge. We want you to feel comfortable to share with us, and yet… you seem to pull away. You hide away your true form.”

“I do… not intend to,” Zhongli said weakly, “But I do not, well I do not make it a habit.”

“Why?” Childe softly asked.

“Some things are better left in the past,” Zhongli sighed, sounding tired to his own ears.

“Some things, yes,” Tartaglia agreed, nails gently scratching Zhongli’s scalp. “Other things… the longer you let them sit, more toxic and poisonous they become.”

“Mmhmm,” Childe agreed with a slow nod. “You know, you taught us this,” Childe chuckled, “You gently coaxed things out of us, with your patience, your kind words. You can talk to us, we want to listen, we want to see you, all of you.”

“I fear,” Zhongli plopped his head back on to Tartaglia’s shoulder, “I fear that I still do not know who I am anymore.”

“Lili!” A small shout interrupted them, along with tumbling feet. Zhongli’s eyes widened, as a tiny boy rocketed into his lap, pushing Childe out of the way. Ajax’s eyes were so bright and happy, as he cuddled into Zhongli’s arms. He was so small, dressed in blue pajamas, and hair wild in untamable curls.

“Ajax,” he whispered, voice soft and sweet.

“Hey,” Childe huffed, “Why aren’t you in bed mister?”

“Lili,” he said, like it explained anything and everything.

“Yes, Lili is here,” Tartaglia chuckled, bringing his hair down to ruffled Ajax’s hair. He beamed up at Tartaglia, toothy grin spreading wide across his face. He dropped his small head on to Zhongli’s chest, allowing the dragon to gently stroke his shock of ginger curls. Despite the excitement, it seemed that that little one was up past his bedtime. “Go to sleep Ajax,” Tartaglia urged, “And don’t think we won’t continue to talk,” he directed it at Zhongli.

“I know,” Zhongli sighed, “I do not know how to define myself.”

“Lili is Lili,” Ajax yawned, “Lili is ours…” Zhongli blinked, looking down at the dozing boy. He said it so simply, so steadfast and sure. He was not incorrect by any means. He was very much right.

“Yes,” Zhongli said slowly, “I am yours, and you are all mine.”

“Is… is that enough to define yourself by?” Childe asked, a little teasing entering his tone.

“Perhaps for now,” he laughed lowly, rubbing Ajax’s little back slowly.

“In the meantime,” Tartaglia said with a little hesitancy, “Can I ask something of you?”

“What is it my warrior?” Zhongli asked, tilting his head up to look at the oldest alter.

“I want to issue a challenge,” he smirked, lips twitching up.

“Am I allowed to know what this challenge is before I agree?” Zhongli chuffed, shaking his head.

“You make us feel relaxed,” Tartaglia offered, “Enough for us to be ourselves around you. Enough to allow us to ask you for help when we need something. Can you do the same?”

“Relax?” Zhongli asked slowly.

“More than that,” Childe chimed in, “You once told me you felt cramped in your human form. Is that relaxed?”

“Well, no,” Zhongli said softly, “I do not need to think of it much, but no, it is not, natural.” Zhongli understood what they were getting at. It was only fair, he supposed. They had all bore so many insecurities, so many open wounds to him, and they were asking for a sliver of the same vulnerability. They deserved at much, that he knew. “I can try,” Zhongli said with a single nod, “I do not wish to alienate you with my… peculiar habits or features though.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Tartaglia snorted inelegantly.

“Then… I shall endeavor to do so,” Zhongli said with a small amount of hesitancy. He knew that it would be fine, that his partners would probably love his different features. Yet there was a part of him that was afraid he’d see a monster in the mirror. The war god that put down his own, albeit crazed, friends. The blood that drenched his hands, dyed them crimson. The cracks that formed all across his being, his body and mind. The erosion that was eating at him. No, pretending to be a human was not comfortable, but it made it easier to forget.

Tartaglia was watching him, with those ever observant eyes. He was similar to Legacy, that he was a predator, a hunter, underneath it all. Childe was too keen for his own good as well, the man was so adept at sense emotional shifts, at reading habits, ticks, the simple flicker of eyes. He should not be surprised that they would be able to pick him apart, that the two of them would unravel him fully one day when he mastered his own emotions. Maybe, just maybe he would welcome it. Welcome they way that they tenderly took the time to disassemble him.

Childe was the first to move. He gently gathered Ajax into his arms, cradling him against his chest. He disappeared briefly, carrying the small boy back to what Zhongli presumed was his room. Tartaglia shifted a little underneath Zhongli, his arm held Zhongli steady as the taller man sat up. Zhongli turned slightly, nuzzling his face into Tartaglia’s chest. Tartaglia held him a bit closer, cracking his neck as they shifted.

“He’s down,” Childe said softly, peeking around the doorway. “Tag, are you staying?” He asked looking between the two.

“Yeah, that okay?” Tartaglia asked, lifting Zhongli off the couch.

“Mmhm,” Childe nodded with a little smile, ducking back behind the doorway. Zhongli curiously looked around the home. It was cozy, fashioned in a more rustic Snezhnayan style than their home in the palace was. There were a couple of closed doors, but they walked passed them. Childe, ahead of them, slipped into a room glowing with warmth. Tartaglia followed him in, revealing a room that was simply and completely Childe’s. A large plush bed, with thick curtains cordoning it off from the rest of the room. A closet door was left ajar, revealing a large collection of sweaters and beautiful clothes and a fireplace illuminated the space with a orange hue.

“Lovely,” Zhongli purred, watching as Childe climbed into the bed with the grace of a dancer. Childe smiled over his shoulder, but crawled to a nightstand, where a bottle of firewater, and filled shot glass waited for him. Childe threw back the shot with a little grin.

Tartaglia let out a little scoff, “Do you really need a drink?”

“No,” Childe said cheekily, “But I like the burn.” He plopped down and spread out on the bed, “You want any Xiansheng? Helps with the nerves.”

“I do not get very influenced easily,” Zhongli said, gently stroking Tartaglia’s chest as the man set him on the bed, “I would need an enormous amount of alcohol to even be remotely tipsy.”

“Really?” Childe asked, sitting up a little, “Is it a god thing? Adeptus thing?”

“No,” Zhongli shook his head, “A dragon idiosyncrasy, as my size is rather large. Other Adepti, such as Cloud Retainer tend to succumb to alcohol easier than I.”

“Does that apply to other things as well?” Tartaglia asked, joining them on the bed, crowding Zhongli.

“Yes,” Zhongli nodded, curling into him, “Medication, food, fluids.”

“Oh,” Childe giggled, “That kind of explains why you would always eat no matter how many times we met in a day. I was always surprised when you would order more food.”

“Was… was that not appropriate?” Zhongli paled.

“I mean, I thought it was you just draining my wallet at first,” Childe teased, “But, I didn’t mind, since it meant I knew you were eating well.” Childe scooted closer and pressed a soft kiss to Zhongli’s lips, “And I’m happy I was able to provide for you.”

“Thank you,” Zhongli softened, gently grasping at the soft curves of Childe’s hips.

“You’re speaking his language,” Tartaglia loomed over them, “He likes taking care of people, monetarily specifically,” he snorted.

“And you like providing protection, an act of service,” Childe poked Tartaglia. The bigger man shrugged his shoulders, but finally relaxed back into the bed. Childe turned his attention to Zhongli, specifically his hands. He ran his fingers over the knuckles and traced nonsensical patterns into his skin. “Hey,” Childe said slowly, “I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but… I know this isn’t what your hands actually look like.” He paused, looking right into Zhongli’s eyes, “I saw it one morning, the dark skin with patterns.”

“It could be a simple place to start,” Tartaglia added, a hand comfortingly squeezing his thigh.

“To be honest, my one and only true form is that of a dragon. Though it is not the most comfortable form for one such as I. As a dragon, I take up too much space, I am for lack of a better term, clunky. I found much more success in a hybrid from, during the time of the Guili Assembly and the early years of Liyue Harbor,” he explained, flexing his fingers idly.

“Whatever makes you the most comfortable,” Childe spoke in such a sweet, saccharine melody. Zhongli inhaled slowly and nodded. He looked down at his hands, simply covered in tanned skin. Would the mere shift remind him of the worst? Would looking down at the hands of the god of war bring back the turmoil that raged inside him ever since he was forced to send spears down for the heavens. Ever since he had to lie to himself to make it feel acceptable, to make himself feel like anything but a monster. But the blood was still there.

There was nothing really to it, it was like relaxing a tense muscle. He did not look down at his hands, but Childe immediately gasped and started to run his fingers along the the familiar patterns etched into the skin. He kept his eyes closed, leaning back into Tartaglia’s safe embrace. It was one thing to take this form in the heat of battle, another to be in relaxed state with time for his mind to wander. If he looked down, would he see the blood of those he loved dearly once upon a time? Those that had left their marks, cracks and chips in his stone heart? Azhdaha and his endless patience, that one day snapped beyond his control, or perhaps Osial’s co*cky grin and arrogant nature, that he ruthlessly slammed to the bottom of the ocean upon disagreement. Havria’s skittish and gentle demeanor, one he could not save. His dear Yaksha and their plagued minds, ones that he created. Guizhong’s bright light and smiles, her endlessly endearing personality. Her light that flickers out. All because of him.

“Breathe,” Tartaglia murmured in his ear, “Breathe with me,” he repeated, applying a firm pressure to Zhongli’s body in way of a tight hug. Zhongli followed his instructions mindlessly, allowing himself to be guided away from the precipice of despair. There were so many chips and cracks within his being, and he knew they could not heal, stone would just continue to erode. But idly, he thought, that at the very least, those cracks and chips, were a place for cool and soothing water to settle, to round the rough edges. It may not fix those parts of him, but perhaps the water could fill the space left behind.

Chapter 6: Marching Orders

Chapter Text

“You have a month of leave.”

“Oh?” Childe blinked a few times, setting his tea cup down and looking up at the Tsaritsa. Her tea had long gone cold, in fact it was probably solid ice by now, but Childe did not have the audacity to peek into her cup. She delicately set her tea cup on its saucer and settled her hands in her lap. For such a dainty woman, she could be terrifying. “May I ask why?” Childe ventured.

A flicker of annoyance crossed her normal apathetic features. Childe nearly felt his heart freeze. It wasn’t that he was afraid of her, but he hated to disappoint her. He never wanted be the one causing her grievances. Sue him, he was a people pleaser. Not to mention the sheer debt he owed Her Majesty.

“Be still,” she huffed, “I can hear your panic silly boy.” She quirked her lips in a semblance of a smile. “You are not… entirely the issue.” Childe sat still, not exactly taking comfort in her words. “Your damn dragon,” she grouched, a rare show of emotion. “Is going to drive me insane.” Childe’s eyes widened, but he kept his words to himself. “Complaining, ugh, the beast should be grateful I allow him to court you! I enjoy Morax’s company, I truly do,” she said, gritting her teeth.

Aybss, is she venting to us?

Uh… yes?

“But he is rather pitiful out here in the cold! Like a house cat!” She waved her hand in irritation, “What an old man! He has nothing to do with his oh so copious amount of spare time! Other than bother me, or get in the way of your work!” She scrunched of her dainty nose, “Oh Albina, play chess with me. Oh Albina, this tea is lovely, you must try it! Albina, Childe took me to a ballet!” She said, mocking Zhongli’s voice. Childe would have laughed if it wasn’t so damn scary. “Some of us have a war to wage! Not just romancing a pretty boy and retiring like a washed up grandfather!”

“I… Apologize your Majesty?” He eked out, mind trying to determine where this was heading and what it had to do with the leave.

“I am happy for you,” She sighed, shaking her head, “For all of you. But he is becoming a nuisance in the palace.”

“Are… you asking for me to send him back to Liyue?” Childe asked, feeling the adrenaline set in. He didn’t want that, none of them did. Zhongli needed to be close. For their sake, as well as Zhongli’s. They were making so much progress in healing, and opening up to each other. Any distance would make that progress fade.

“Oh heavens no,” She guffawed, “You are much too enamored with that old pile of scales. No, no dearest eleventh,” she patted his arm, sending a painful chill through his body, “You, my dear, are going back to Liyue.”

“What…?” Child balked, mouth dropping open.

“You are taking that fossil and moving back to Liyue,” she pulled her hand away from his arm. “He has vacationed here for long enough. You are to take over all Liyuen Operations. The region is yours to command my dearest eleventh, do as you see fit to bring glory to the homeland.”

“Uh, haha,” Childe laughed weakly, “About that, your Majesty, I believe Lady Ningguang would not take well to me returning. I am… perhaps the most hated individual in Liyue.” Oh how to yearned to go back, but back to before he had unleashed an evil god on them. Back to before, when the street vendors flirted with him (because he’d pay Zhongli’s tabs), when the kids were excited to see him, when he had people he called friends there. Now he could feel his heart stop, thinking of the glares, the looks of disgust he would receive. How mothers would pull their children away from him. He couldn’t live like that, not again.

“Frightened?” She said with a razor sharp smile. “That is not like you, I hope this indulgence I have provided is not dulling my prettiest blade.”

“No, not… not frightened, your Majesty,” Childe shook his head, “I know I’m a good diplomat, but the events that occurred… and with my presence could be more of a hindrance to repairing any sort of diplomatic relations.”

“Pah,” she rolled her eyes, “Take solace that it cannot get worse that is. Truly, I though Signora would be a wise chose to clean up the mess I let you make!” Childe tilted his head. It was the first time he was hearing of this. “My lovely Signora is such a strong personality,” she crooned, “I was under the assumption that another strong woman could appreciate her, as I do, but it has come to my attention that the Tianquan is very, let us say, irritated by her. Our associates in Liyue have told me she was caught saying, ‘I’d rather have the ginger disaster back’. So I have decided to grant her wishes, and send Signora to Inazuma to enact the next phase.”

“I’m not a total disaster,” Childe pouted, hiding behind his teacup.

“Oh sweet boy,” she shook her head, clearly amused. “You will start your leave immediately, say your goodbyes to your family. Pulcinella has taken the liberty of booking your voyage to Liyue,” her amusem*nt only grew, which was slightly off putting. “From my understanding, he chose to truly take the term leave to heart. A maiden voyage on a luxury cruise liner,” she chuckled, “How romantic, no?”

“Excuse me?” Childe coughed, choking on his tea.

“Your ship departs in a week,” she said pulling her gloves back on, “See to it you have packed your essentials for the move. This is a long term assignment. Expect to travel back on occasion, but Liyue will be your base for the foreseeable future.”

“Ah… yes, yes your Majesty,” he said, sliding out of his chair and kneeling as his Queen stood.

“Excellent,” she hummed, brushing her fingers against his bowed head, “Do enjoy your trip.” She left him kneeling in the snow of the garden, their tea abandoned.

Did we just get sent on a honeymoon cruise with Zhongli?

Yes…? I think?

Childe stood up, brushing the snow off his clothes. He shoved a few tea cakes into his mouth, feeling a bit frantic.

I love Liyue, but… who’s going to rent a room to us? We’re hated, they’d kick us out instantly. Sleeping at our desk? What about Ajax? He needs a space to come out. f*ck, this got complicated.

Forget that! What about Zhongli? Are we going to ruin his reputation? I don’t want him to be hated too! f*ck, Tartaglia, what’re we going to do?

… As we’re told. Her Majesty has declared it, and we will follow. It is our duty. We will figure it out the logistics as we go. I won’t have you breaking down. Do you understand?

It’s not that simple! We are public enemy number one! f*ck, Xiangling, Chef Mao, Hu Tao, Chongyun, Xingqiu, everyone… We’re not going to be able to leave the bank! And Zhongli could be ostracized!

Childe, we will work it out. You can’t, and I will not allow you, to please everyone. You have me, and I have you. We will figure it out. Now chew, before you choke us.

Childe grumbled under his breath, and chewed slowly on his cakes. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a few deep breaths after swallowing. First things first, they had to find Pulcinella for their itinerary and tickets, then to break the news to Zhongli and send for his sisters.

He slapped his rosy cheeks a few times and stalked towards the palace interior. He peeled off his gloves as soon as he was inside, and looked around the quiet hall, lined with doors. It would be just his luck if Nella was out. That old geezer, sticking his nose into their business.

“And what has you in a tizzy?” A slow drawl surprised him.

“Nothing,” he bit out, turning to find the monochrome woman standing near her door.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing,” she said smoothly, looking at her nails. “Do you wish to speak of it Childe?” Arlecchino asked, “You remind me of Lyney when you act like this. Petulant and young.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled, “Have you seen Pulcinella?”

“I’m afraid not,” she gave him a critical look, “I will not pry then. It will be some time till I see you. I am returning to Fontaine you see.” She had a look on her face that spoke nothing but trouble. “After all, any good play begins with rehearsal, does it not?”

“I suppose,” he crossed his arms.

“As the curtain rises in Inazuma, and the dress rehearsal in Sumeru begins, a casting call in Fontaine must be arranged,” she hummed.

“Your kids can handle it,” Childe sighed, “You taught them well.”

“Now if only you had listened as well,” she tutted, “You would have been a spectacular asset. You’re eyes were always bigger than your stomach though.”

“I wouldn’t mind dancing a bit,” Childe crossed his arms, “You can call for assistance should you need it Arlecchino. I like a little chaos,” he laughed fondly. She smiled thinly at him, a taloned hand finding its way into his hair, ruffling it.

“Stay alive Childe,” she beckoned, “I look forward to seeing all of you when the time is right.” He watched her turn back into her office, a few younger Fatui sitting inside. The door shut with a click, and he couldn’t help but let a bit of relaxation come to him. Not many believed Arlecchino was kind. She was though, in her own way. She had done a lot for him after he fell into Nella’s care. After all, he was a wild child with so many issues. He was right up her alley. He remembered her offer to join the House of the Hearth. He had declined, but not because he didn’t want to. He hungered for a place to belong, but he was worried he’d end up hurting one of the other children, that he would ruin everything she had worked for. He didn’t want to selfish, after all.

He shook his head a few times and turned back to the hall, only to spot another Harbinger staring at him from a few paces. Man, he was popular today. With a sharp grin, he raised his hand and waved at the shortest Harbinger. The indigo haired man scoff, wrinkling his nose like he smelled something disgusting.

“And here I thought I was put together,” Childe said with false amity.

“I don’t give a f*ck,” Scaramouche spat, “Tell Ajax goodbye. That’s it.”

“Aw, are you going to miss us?” Childe mercilessly teased. The puppet glared at him, the scowl on his face deepening. “C’mon Moose,” Childe antagonized in a saccharine tone, “Aren’t you such a good uncle?”

“f*ck off,” Scaramouche’s eyes narrowed, fists clenching.

“Looks like you’re playing second fiddle, mm?” Childe prodded, “Wasn’t Inazuma supposed to be your game? Hah, you got upstaged by the fair lady!”

“At least I knew about it ahead of time,” he smirked, raking his eyes over Childe. “You were used like the crude, rusty blade you are. How did that feel?” He crooned, a sad*stic smile stretching across his face. “Did you come home crying?” He softened his voice, mockingly, “Did your little gramps have to bail you out?”

Childe’s smile went stiff and he leaned over, getting in Scaramouche’s face, “At least in the end I wasn’t discarded by an Archon.” Scaramouche’s eyes blazed with rage, and his hand shot out gripping Childe by the neck. Childe wouldn’t let the smile drop from his face even as he struggled to breathe. The hand was yanked off of their neck, and Childe felt an overwhelming anger blur their mind.

“Don’t f*cking touch him,” Tartaglia snarled, crushing Scaramouche’s hand in his grasp. The puppet pulled away abruptly, staring at them, mild trepidation coming to light. “Think twice brat,” Tartaglia hissed, “Before trying that sh*t. I’ll do more than break your pretty little porcelain wrist next time.”

“You’re a rabid f*cking dog,” Scaramouche spat, holding his wrist, clear cracks lining it.

“What does that make you?” Tartaglia narrowed his eyes, “A little puss*?” He barked out a laugh. “Just remember,” he took a few steps closer, “That you have to go through me, to get to Ajax.”

“Not like it matters any way,” Scaramouche snarled cryptically.

“Running off to get fixed?” Tartaglia asked condescendingly, mock dripping from his words. Scaramouche didn’t turn around again, but was clearly making a beeline to Dottore’s labs. Once he was out of sight Tartaglia switched his target. “f*ck, Childe,” Tartaglia hissed, smacking their head, “You dumbass, you play with fire and you get burned! What if I wasn’t here? What if he choked you to death in the middle of a f*cking hallway?”

You were here.

“And you’re a glutton for punishment!” Tartaglia raged. “f*cking abyss Childe. This sh*t has to stop! Stop pushing buttons, knowing you’ll get hurt! It’s the same as your drinking! Celestia, you never learn!” Childe was quiet, which just served to enrage Tartaglia more. “You need to think Childe,” Tartaglia hissed, “Sometimes I think you’re so smart, so clever, and then… then you do crap like this. You lash out, act like a brat, put us into unnecessary danger! And what for?”

We weren’t really in danger.

“Oh? So you trust Scaramouche to control himself?” Tartaglia snorted.

Yeah, for Ajax.

“That’s naive,” Tartaglia scoffed, “You’re naive if you think that one day that… that poor, twisted, confused f*cker won’t slip up.” Tartaglia tugged at his hair, stalking down the hallway. “You need to stop… whatever this is. I let you get away with so much, since… Look I know I took a lot of the physical brunt of… everything. You shouldered the mental crap. I let you get away with sh*t ways of coping, but we know better now. I know better. Zhongli has taught us better, even if he doesn’t always practice what he preaches,” Tartaglia grumbled, “Why do you want to hurt sometimes?” He asked, “I know… I’m not always the best either, but I know why I do it. I like the thrill of a fight, my goal isn’t to get hurt though, my goal is to win, to get stronger. What do you get out of it? Of putting us in situations that incur harm? Of drowning in alcohol, of picking petty fights?”

I don’t know.

“I think you do,” he said coldly, “You just don’t want to say it aloud. Because that makes it real, that makes everything too tangible for you.” Childe didn’t answer, and Tartaglia hissed to himself, throwing open the door to Pulcinella’s office without ceremony. An assistant jumped in her seat and scrambled over to greet him. “I was told the old man had a itinerary for me?” He crossed his arms.

“A-ah, yes Harbinger Tartaglia,” the girl nodded quickly, “Just… just one minute.” She ducked into a back room. Tartaglia tapped his fingers impatiently, just wanting to get back to their room and see Zhongli. He would always follow orders, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t uneasy. He knew that Childe would face the brunt of the social isolation when they returned to Liyue. He wondered if that’s the reason Childe was acting the way he was. If it was some sort of punishment, or maybe even preparation for what he and by proxy, all of them would have to face upon their return to the Harbor of Stone.

It didn’t matter though. They would still do it, because that is what Her Majesty ordained. And Tartaglia was nothing, if not her loyal servant. He flipped through the conversation he needed to have with Zhongli, since Childe clearly wasn’t in the mood to join them for it. He did not want Zhongli to have to face this either. They could travel together, and they would, but perhaps… for the time being, Zhongli needed to pull away from them. A temporary measure to make sure that the Funeral Parlor Consultant wasn’t ostracized, wouldn’t lose his job and friends because of them.

WEAK

Tartaglia rolled his eyes. No, it’s not weak, it’s just… preparing for the inevitable. It’s tactics, strategy.

MATES TOGETHER, DOESN’T MATTER.

Well, too bad it isn’t up to you. It’s up to Zhongli.

Legacy clearly didn’t like that answer, if the harsh snarl Tartaglia received was anything to go by. At one point, he thought he was the unhinged one in this system. He was starting to learn, that maybe, and terrifyingly enough, maybe he was the most levelheaded out of all of them. He listened to Legacy roar his discontent in their head, while waiting for the secretary. When she came back, she handed him a folder, and tried to stutter something out. Tartaglia paid little attention to her blathering and sifted through the documents. He slid them back into the folder and held his hand up to stop her.

“That is all,” he said dismissively. Without another word, he left, and started the trek back to his personal suite. He ran over the conversation in his head a few times, wondering just how Zhongli would react to being sent back to Liyue. When he arrived, he unlocked the door, listening for his partner deeper in the rooms. He could make out faint humming coming from the kitchen. When he poked his head in, Zhongli was tending the stove, a tea up in one hand. He looked happy, his hair loose, slippers over his feet. Tartaglia lamented on ruining his mood.

“Ah,” Zhongli spotted him, a smile gracing his features, “Hello darling, how was tea?” He asked, and then petulantly added, “Without me.”

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia let out small laugh, “Honestly, can’t comment much on the tea itself.”

“Mm,” Zhongli sauntered over, and Tartaglia’s arms simply found their way around him. “Childe was the one invited, no? So, did he have a pleasant time?”

“Yes…?” Tartaglia said with a small frown, “It seems that the ending soured his mood a great deal.”

“Oh? Is he alright?” Zhongli’s voice rose in concern, pulling his head back from Tartaglia’s chest.

“I… He’s spooked,” Tartaglia sighed, “I think, at least. We were given new orders, and he’s… hesitant.”

Zhongli’s eyes seemed to shutter somewhat, “Ah, yes… I suppose I knew Albina would give you a new mission eventually. I had selfishly hoped we had more time, well for just us. She has already been remarkably indulgent of us, or, perhaps me. I should not test her kindness or patience, should I?” Zhongli seemed resigned, and that itself, hurt Tartaglia more than he thought possible. “Is it Inazuma?” Zhongli asked, face tight with discontent, “That would be the next logically step, no?”

“Ah, no,” Tartaglia ran his fingers across the scrunched lines on Zhongli’s face, wanting to wipe away the tension there, “No, it’s not like that Zhongli. You’d be coming with us,” he murmured, a little breath leaving him as he felt the stress leave his partner’s body. “Liyue, we are being stationed in Liyue again. For the foreseeable future, we’d be the defacto leader of the Fatui in Liyue. No upstaging for Signora.”

“Oh,” Zhongli looked baffled, “Why does that worry Childe? You all enjoyed Liyue a good deal, did you not?” He asked, cradling Tartaglia’s face in his worn palms.

“We do, we love Liyue,” Tartaglia murmured, placing a few kisses on the heel of Zhongli’s palm, “But… Liyue does not love us.”

“She does,” Zhongli huffed, “Of course Liyue loves you, for you love me.”

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia bonked their heads together, “I do not mean the land itself, old dragon.” He take a deep breath, “I meant the people. We… did not stick around very long after the incident. It was long enough to know that the citizens of Liyue would not tolerate us much longer.”

“Tartaglia,” Zhongli’s face softened, something akin to pity there. It wasn’t pity though, maybe a soft and sad longing, or something even deeper than that.

“You do not need to comfort me,” Tartaglia murmured, “We are loyal to our Queen. We did as she bid, and we did what was necessary. The consequences are not your concern. They are what should be expected. If we are ostracized by the community, so be it. It is their right, as they will never understand, nor should they, why we did what needed to be done.”

“Ostracized…” Zhongli trailed off, clearly fretting, “That is such a… strong term, I do not think-“

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia cut him off, “I tried to drown a city. We do not need to argue the semantics of what words seem to be an appropriate descriptor. I need you to make choices, so I can plan, make contingencies.”

“I see,” Zhongli nodded, eyes still clouded with emotion, “What is it you need from me?”

“When we arrive in Liyue I do not want the stigma attached to us to effect you as well,” he closed his eyes as he spoke, “It could very well ruin friendships, have an negative impact on your work and the life you have built for yourself during retirement. You should be separated from us, for a season or two, until the dust of our arrival settles. It does not mean we cannot meet, just… less.”

“How asinine,” Zhongli said immediately, tone cutting.

Tartaglia’s eyes shot open, and glanced down at where Zhongli’s head was resting against his shoulder. The ex-archon looked less than pleased. His eyes were narrowed, lips tightened into a flat line, which was some how more terrifying than a frown. The hand that had been resting against Tartaglia’s chest was now clawing him, the skin darkened and what appeared to be talons ripping into his clothes.

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia said slowly, as if to appease the upset dragon.

FOOL.

Tartaglia had to stop himself from responding, just so Zhongli didn’t think it was a response to him.

“You heard me,” Zhongli tilted his chin up defiantly.

“Yes, I did,” Tartaglia gently ran his palm over the back of Zhongli’s hand to soothe him. Zhongli’s eyes followed the movement and widened minutely. His hand dropped from Tartaglia’s chest and shifted back into a human skin tone. “I… that clearly upset you,” Tartaglia said, not wanting to put any emphasis on the shift, not want to make Zhongli focus on it.

“Obviously,” Zhongli bit out, brows still furrowed, and clutching his hand in a fist.

“None of us want to see you lose the people you care for,” Tartaglia sighed, speaking for the whole system, except for Legacy it would seem. “None of us want you to be in that position. We can handle it, it’ll be unpleasant, but it is not something new to us. We have dealt with similar situations before and survived.”

“That is not the point Tartaglia,” Zhongli’s voice rose in volume and octave. If Tartaglia looked close enough, he could see small fangs catching on Zhongli’s lips. “The point is that you think I should, and will forsake you in a time of potential distress, to ensure my own comfort.” Zhongli reached up and grabbed Tartaglia by the jaw, forcing him to look at Zhongli in the eyes. “No,” he said firmly, “I refuse to play such games. You are mine,” his voice was more of hiss, “While it is not official in every sense, I refuse to be separated from you for such… such idiotic reasons!”

“Official?” Tartaglia mumbled.

MATE, OURS.

“Yes, officially I hold no claim,” Zhongli said, sounding irked by it, “But as a human, I have been told that marriage this soon to starting a relationship is ill-advised. Seeing as though you already rejected me once, I find that advice rather sound.”

“What…?” Tartaglia coughed, grabbing Zhongli by the waist.

“What is it?” Zhongli looked supremely grouchy.

“I… we… marriage?” Tartaglia sputtered. “There is so much to unpack there love.”

“You threw away the chopsticks,” Zhongli’s jaw tightened.

“I… the gag gift?” Tartaglia’s brows rose into his hair line.

“Gag?” Zhongli paled.

“Yeah, since Childe can’t use chopsticks,” Tartaglia coughed, “You know… you… were teasing him?”

“No,” Zhongli’s eyes widened in horror. “No Tartaglia. That…” he blushed and slow untangled himself from the ginger’s grasp. He started muttering to himself, the hot, red blush never leaving his cheeks.

“Did you… propose to us?” Tartaglia chased after him. Zhongli’s fiddled with the end of his sleeves, and avoided Tartaglia’s attempts to catch him. “Oh my archons,” Tartaglia couldn’t help but laugh, “You proposed to us, and didn’t tell us?”

“Hush,” Zhongli swatted at him, looking tremendously embarrassed. “It appears I made a grave error, and I… I would not like to discuss it further.”

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia managed to spin the man around, pulling their hips together. “f*ck, that’s cute,” he muttered, leaning down and pressing and kiss to his partner’s soft lips. “Thousands of years old, and yet you still get embarrassed,” he whispered into Zhongli’s ear, pressing a few kisses to the lobe.

“You do not need to reiterate it,” Zhongli grumbled, hands resting on Tartaglia’s chest.

“We… we can put that on hold for right now,” Tartaglia chuckled lowly, “But we need to discuss Liyue.”

“There is nothing left to discuss,” Zhongli said curtly, “I am not abandoning you, or acting as if you are anything less than my precious m-partner.” Tartaglia rose a brow at him slip up, but let Zhongli get away with it. He had a feeling he knew what the old lizard had meant to say anyway, considering one beast was howling it at him all day. He wasn’t sure what it entailed, but it was something to get to eventually.

“So you’re… just fine with everyone hating you?” Tartaglia asked, brows furrowing, “Just for being with me?”

“I would rather have the entire world despise me,” Zhongli said, cupping Tartaglia’s face in both his calloused hands, “Than not have you by my side, to not have you within my grasp.”

“Zhongli,” Tartaglia leaned down, pressing their noses and foreheads together. “You are our everything, but I don’t want to see you hurt.”

“Mm,” Zhongli hummed in low frequency, “I will admit, I may find myself aching for those I hold dear. I may miss the casual conversations, the relaxed pace of life. Meeting at Wanmin and catching up with Xiangling and Chef Mao. Speaking with the young ones, like Xingqiu and Chongyun. I may miss those things very much,” he sighed, their lips grazing each other. “But I would not miss them as much as I ache for you. I need you by my side, always, irrevocably.”

“What about Hu Tao?” Tartaglia asked softly, thumbs rubbing circles into Zhongli’s hips. The girl was a treasure, Tartaglia had to admit that. He knew she brought a brightness to Zhongli’s life, and to have that snuffed out would be irreversibly painful. She was basically his granddaughter, the more he thought about it.

“Tao-er?” he blinked his eyes slowly, “Hu Tao adores you.”

“Well, she did at one point,” Tartaglia gruffly agreed.

“Oh,” Zhongli blinked again, “I did not tell you. Hu Tao was the one who encouraged me to find you. She… is also the one who made sure I had packed enough mora for the trip,” he admitted with a little blush.

“She… she sent you?” He asked, jerking his head back from the intimate embrace.

“Why yes,” Zhongli nodded, “She claimed I was depressed, and that if she had to guess, I was the reason for our… breakup. She was correct, of course, but I did not feel the need to confirm the details with her.”

“Hu Tao,” Tartaglia coughed, “Sent you, her consultant, on a long ass vacation to find me, the most hated man in Liyue, because you were sad?”

“Yes, that sounds correct,” Zhongli nodded, “She assured me that I had accrued a good deal of vacation time, and that my position would be available to me upon my return, whenever that may be.”

“Oh Abyss,” Tartaglia laughed softly, “Celestia, she… okay, okay. I hear you, we won’t act like we aren’t together. We’ll face this head on, together.” Zhongli pulled Tartaglia’s head back down, kissing him deeply and combing his fingers through the ginger curls.

“I love you,” Zhongli let out a rumbling purr.

Maybe everything would be just fine, after all, Zhongli would be by their side.

—

“This is much nicer than the ships I normally take,” Childe muttered, an arm wrapped around Zhongli’s waist. Childe had to admit, he felt like a hot sh*t with Zhongli on his arm like this. There was no argument, the Liyuen god was devastatingly beautiful, but something about him wrapped in a brown fur coat, his hair done up in a complicated updo, multiple jewelry pieces, all gifts, keeping it in place. Zhongli let out a small hum, inspecting the ship with a critical eye. Behind them, a couple of his Fatui officers were carrying their luggage.

The system normally made do with very little, and most of their bags were actually taken up by Ajax’s belongs. It was hard to purchase such things with a low profile in a foreign land after all. But this time, the move was more permanent. There were more crates that contained other belongs, such as most of Childe’s wardrobe, Tartaglia’s weapon collection and Zhongli’s newest belongings, that were being sent directly to the house purchased very discretely in the Harbor.

After all, who would openly sell a house to the infamous Fatui Harbinger. Zhongli seemed particularly enamored with the idea of their very own house, the way his eyes lit up was undeniably sweet. Their own piece of tranquility, among what would most certainly be choppy seas.

“It seems to be well built,” Zhongli nodded his head a few times. “Much better than the ship I traveled here in.”

“Uh… yeah?” Childe looked at Zhongli in confusion.

“Ah, forgive me,” Zhongli patted his chest, curling into him, “I had a somewhat harrowing trip here on a small vessel. Sea faring is not my favored mode of transport. I like to have my feet solidly on the ground.”

“That makes a ridiculous amount of sense,” Childe chuckled, “But with a ship this big, you shouldn’t even feel the waves.”

“Ah, I will take great solace in that,” Zhongli’s eyes turned into little half moons. Childe reached over and gently tucked a strand of loose hair behind Zhongli’s ear, just taking a moment to admire his partner. Zhongli tilted his head, smiling so sweetly in return. “Shall we board?” He asked, glancing back at the Fatui agents struggling with their luggage.

“Mm, yes,” Childe nodded, “Let’s get you settled before the chill freezes you, mm?” He guided Zhongli by the waist to the port check-in, and he could definitely hear the Fatui behind him grumbling about honeymoons and vacation time. He couldn’t help but get excited to see just what Pulcinella had booked for them.

The conversation between Tartaglia and Zhongli had done a lot to soothe Childe’s frayed nerves. Of course he was nervous, and of course he did not wish any ill will to be directed towards Zhongli, but it made him feel stronger, knowing that Zhongli would be standing by his side against whatever awaited them on the warm shores of Liyue.

They still hadn’t talked about anything else though. About the fight he and Tartaglia had. It was okay, it was always like this. They would fight, then pretend it didn’t happen. That was… fine. It would sort itself out eventually. It would come to a head one day, perhaps. Childe sorted through their papers, immigration papers to Liyue for him, Zhongli’s Snezhnayan visa, so generously given by Her Majesty, and their reservations for the luxury cruise liner.

Childe handed the tickets over, watching as their eyes got comedically wide. In a flurry of activity, they were ushered on the ship through a private entrance, skipping the line to board completely. Well, it certainly seemed that they were in for a rather pleasant trip back to the land of Geo.