Chapter Text
When he woke up, it was slowly and miserably, as shivers ran through his damp clothes while someone gently toweled his hair dry. He blinked his eyes open with a quiet groan.
“Childe! You’re awake!”
Childe could recognize that high-pitched voice anywhere. “Paimon?” he asked, voice soft and slightly slurred.
“We’re in Northland Bank,” Paimon explained before Childe could ask anything. “Paimon was so surprised when we came here and saw you unconscious! Zhongli said he just got here with you though, that’s why you’re still all wet. Paimon’s tried to dry you off but you’re so big and wet and the towel is so heavy. Paimon thinks she’s done a good job, but what do you think?”
Childe blinked at her, and then at the soggy towel in her hands. “You’ve done really well. Thanks, Paimon,” he said, taking the towel from her hands. She audibly sighed in relief, and it drew a smile to his face. “Don’t worry about it, okay? Do you need a good drying, too?”
“No, no, Paimon’s good.”
He looked around. Northland was as warm as always, though the grandeur it held made Childe felt small when he was looking more like a drowned rat. Paimon hovered next to him, and Childe had just beginning to wonder why when he caught sight of Lumine, currently locked in a glaring contest with Signora.
Well. If nothing else, Childe knew Lumine had guts.
“Ah, you’re awake.”
The soothing voice settled something in Childe that he hadn’t realized was unsettled to begin with. His shoulder relaxed as he turned to look. A smile made its way into his lips unbidden. “Hello, Zhongli.”
Zhongli returned his smile and placed a warm, steaming cup into Childe’s hands. “Drink this,” he said. “Black tea with Osmanthus flowers, mixed with ginger honey. It should warm you up in no time.”
Childe breathed the aroma deeply. It smelled sweet. It reminded him of Zhongli – probably the Osmanthus. He took a sip and sighed. “It’s good,” he said, feeling warmth slowly suffusing into his skin.
“I had hoped it would suit your tastes,” Zhongli said with a nod. “Paimon, may I ask your help in making sure he finishes it?”
“Of course! You can count on Paimon.”
“Thank you.” Zhongli turned his attention to the two women, still glaring at each other. “Well, I believe some explanation is in order.”
Confusion made itself known in Childe. Explanation? Why would Zhongli be the one asking for explanation? Did he secretly work for the Qixing? If yes then Childe was screwed, probably. He complained a lot about his job and he’d probably have given away some company secret by accident by now.
Lumine whipped away from Signora, this time glaring at Zhongli. “Yes. I think you owe me one. You likely owe Childe, as well.”
Well now Childe was just lost. He blinked, trying to parse through his muddled mind. The memory came trickling in, and he frowned.
“What exactly happened back then?” he asked.
“Osial’s seal was broken. The Qixing managed to put him back down.” Zhongli nodded to Lumine. “I must thank you for your help, Traveler.”
Lumine simply shrugged. “I’m guessing the Fatui is the reason why he rose in the first place?” she asked, each word directed poisonously at Signora.
For her part, Signora simply stood straighter. Even while wet she still managed to look elegant. “Not on purpose,” she said. “An incompetent officer failed to contain the Sigil of Permission properly. The plan was to invoke a shadow of the god instead of waking him up.” Her gaze flicked over to Zhongli. “Perhaps you want to take over with the explanation, Morax?”
Childe’s gaze snapped to Zhongli.
For his part, Zhongli was silent, simply staring at Signora. Then he sighed, then turned to Childe. Childe blinked at the warm amber eyes and saw the swirl of anxiety deep in it, buried under forced calm. “There are things I will speak of here that will likely upset you,” he said, “and I would not begrudge you for it. But no matter what, I wish to explain everything as concisely as possible to you once my business is done. If nothing else, would you be willing to lend me your time and your ear?”
“I – “ Childe stared at the way Zhongli tensed at his voice. “Of course,” he said.
Zhongli was still tense, but Childe could see the way his shoulders dropped, if only for a fraction. He nodded, then turned back to Signora.
“The terms of contract in your end has been fulfilled,” he said, voice somehow holding a lot more power than usual. “As such, I shall uphold my own end of the contract.”
He reached into the center of his chest. There was a burst of light upon contact, and Childe had to close his eyes with how bright it was. When the light receded, he blinked the dark spots in his vision away and found himself staring at what was undeniably an object of pure power floating gently in Zhongli’s hand.
The gnosis. Childe had seen one of its siblings when the Tsaritsa showed her own to him before she sent him out. Hers was chillingly cold, cold enough that he had wondered if a single touch would freeze him solid in a matter of seconds. This one was undoubtedly the Geo Archon’s, exuding steadiness of the calm earth and the steadfastness of rocks.
To think that Zhongli of all people was the Geo Archon all along.
Cold washed over Childe. Zhongli was the Geo Archon.
He put the cup in his hands down before he could drop it. He knew it had nothing to do with the damp clothes or hair, but he was so cold. Zhongli had been the Geo Archon, and he likely knew of Childe’s role in all this mess.
Were they even friends to begin with?
Lumine stared at Zhongli, then at Childe, then back at Zhongli. “Why?” she demanded. For Childe? For herself? Childe couldn’t tell anymore.
“There is a contract between me and the Tsaritsa,” Zhongli admitted. “For my part… simply put, I have lived for over six thousand years. It has been over three thousand and seven hundred years that I founded Liyue with the Adepti. Liyue is…” He paused, gaze softening. “Liyue has grown over the years. Like a child having toddled along her parents, she has now grown enough to stand on her own. I suppose I should have known Liyue is strong enough to stand alone, but I had convinced myself over and over that the end of my time has not yet come. And yet…”
His fingers twirled around the gnosis, playing with it and allowing it to spin around his fingers. “One drizzly day, I was strolling around the harbor and heard a merchant tell his workers that he had finished his duty and he could call it a day. I suppose it made me question if I had finished mine.”
Paimon, still floating, sagged lower. “Oh, Zhongli…”
Zhongli smiled at her. Warm, gentle. The same gentle Zhongli Childe had come to know. “It’s alright. But it did make me begin to consider relinquishing my divine role. However, I soon found out that it would be reckless for me to hastily depart. Strong or not, grown or not, any child would be in shock if left alone so suddenly. I was not sure if Liyue was ready to enter its next stage, taking steps of her own without me to hold her hand. For that reason, I decided that a test was needed in order to reveal the answer.”
He paused. He turned to Childe. “The plan was… a play of sorts. I had heard of the Tsaritsa’s plan to gather all gnosis and proposed a plan for her. If Liyue could pass a test to see if she could go on without her Archon, then my gnosis would be the Tsaritsa’s. Had Liyue not been able to do so, I would help and keep my gnosis.” He stopped playing with the gnosis and held it gingerly in his hand, still looking at Childe. “Originally, the plan was to have Childe as the antagonist. He would be the one to release Osial and bring havoc to Liyue.”
Childe flinched.
Zhongli softened. “The plan changed. A while ago, I discovered some… interesting things about you, Childe. I would prefer to discuss it with you in private later, because it might be sensitive information. In any case, the plan changed. Signora was always meant to oversee everything and direct the play from the shadows, but now the test changed. Childe was no longer to be the antagonist. He was to be one of the key players.” Zhongli took a deep breath. “I’m sorry to tell you so suddenly, but it was also meant to test you, Childe. Both the Tsaritsa and I wanted to know if you would heed her will even through another’s mouth, or if you would choose to move on your own volition. In short, we wanted to see if you would be a blindly loyal servant to her or if you would prioritize innocent Liyuean’s lives.”
Childe gripped his hands. “And I chose Liyue.”
“I’ll tell you later what it will mean for you,” Signora interjected. “But I will say this. Her Majesty never intended to punish or reward you, no matter what your choice ended up being.”
Childe narrowed his eyes at her. “Why.”
Signora tilted her head. “Would you punish someone for staying true to their heart? Her Majesty’s heart may be frozen solid, but it is not dead nor is it uncaring.”
Childe had no answer to that. Honesty and sincerity was… it could be complicated for him, at times. It was easy being honest and sincere to others, but the thought of others returning the favor felt off.
“In any case, the test has concluded and the result is clear. Liyue has what it takes to walk on her own two feet, and I shall live as a mortal for my duties has been fulfilled,” Zhongli said.
Lumine stared at him. She had relaxed, though there was still a spark of hurt in her eyes. “And what of the result? Are you satisfied?”
Zhongli smiled. “Yes. And rightly so. Liyue had performed admirably.” He turned to Signora and handed the gnosis to her. “My end of the contract, La Signora.”
Signora took the gnosis with all the care she would give to a common household object. “On behalf of the Tsaritsa, I thank you for your cooperation. Childe,” she turned to the other harbinger, “I will be at the Snezhnayan ship docked at the harbor. The Cicin Mages will let you in if you ask for me. I won’t wait all night, so you’d better come once you’re done talking to Morax.” And with that, without waiting for another word, she left.
Lumine followed her with her gaze. After the last swish of Signora’s frankly over-the-top dress disappeared, she turned back to Zhongli and Childe. “I should leave, too,” she said. “I’ll catch up to you two later?”
“Of course. Safe travels, Lumine,” Zhongli.
“I hope you get better soon,” Lumine said to Childe.
“Yeah! Sorry we got suspicious of you,” Paimon added. Childe laughed it off and waved them away, then directed his attention back to Zhongli.
“I want to know if any of our friendship was real, or if it was all just you keeping an eye on me,” Childe said point blank.
“I will not insult you by lying to you,” Zhongli began. “Our first meeting was an accident. I did not expect to meet you in Wanmin Restaurant, nor did I expect you to collapse. I will admit that at first, I did think that it was convenient that we spent a lot of time together, as I would be able to monitor how you will move. But I do enjoy our time together, and I do cherish what we have built here, Childe. I swear to you that I do.”
Childe thought it over. It soothed something in him, to know that at least, not all of the time they were together was a lie. He pushed it away to ask another question. “Her Majesty sent me a letter telling me that I was off the mission because she and you had a deal. What is it? It can’t just be the test, since I was already the perfect scapegoat.”
Zhongli was quiet for a moment. His amber eyes were intense, deep. Something about the way he gazed felt important, and Childe found himself staring back in anticipation.
“Do you remember our outing before you received the Tsaritsa’s letter?” Zhongli asked.
Childe thought it over. He remembered the sudden thumps of his heart, the way Zhongli hovered, and asked what had changed that the heart would start beating. He remembered the way Zhongli had stared at him then, hand hovering over Childe’s chest – like he had seen a miracle. He remembered that Zhongli left shortly after.
“Yes,” he said. “Did you realize something about me, then?”
Instead of answering him, Zhongli gave another question. “Do you remember Guizhong?”
“Yes, yes. Goddess of Dust, exchanged hearts with Rex Lapis, died in battle carrying his heart and he still carries her heart to this day. What’s that got to do with me?”
“Osial called you Guizhong, did he not?”
Childe stared at him, wide-eyed. “Zhongli…?”
Slowly, Zhongli took Childe’s hand. It was still cold, and Childe found himself sighing at the warmth enveloping his fingers.
“My heart does not beat,” Zhongli said. “Much like yours. Mine does not beat because it was never mine. It was Guizhong’s. And it has not beat even when I am around you, but yours beat by my side, because it recognizes me.” He looked down, staring as he softly rubbed Childe’s hand to warm it up further.
After a beat, he spoke again. “Souls… as I understand it, they cannot be destroyed. But sometimes, the soul of a dead person would come back into the world as a newborn.”
Childe blinked. “Are you saying… I was Guizhong?”
“Your soul was hers, in another life,” Zhongli said. “You are not her, but your soul was hers. Souls are meant to be clean slates upon being reborn, but it seems that Guizhong’s soul stubbornly carried my heart even through the process of reincarnation. And… here we are.”
It was hard to focus. Somehow, the reveal was nowhere near as surprising as Childe thought and yet world-shaking all the same. His free hand lifted up to his chest, fingertips digging into his damp shirt.
Zhongli reached and grasped that hand, keeping it still over the heart. “And this heart is mine. The heart in my chest was once Guizhong’s, but it could be yours.”
“I can’t be her,” Childe blurted.
Zhongli paused. “Is that what you think I’d want from you?” he asked quietly. “That I would want Guizhong back in your place?”
Chile stared unblinking. Everything felt distant. “Wouldn’t you?”
Zhongli sighed. Quietly, he answered, “Maybe at first, when I didn’t know you well enough yet.” Slowly, Zhongli’s thumb stroke over Childe’s fingers. “But not anymore. I have lived long enough to understand that once something is gone, it is gone. There is no point in dwelling. You are precious to me, Childe, and that feeling has nothing to do with how your soul was once Guizhong’s.”
Childe breathed. He allowed Zhongli’s hands to stay, to warm his rigid fingers. “And what of the test?” he asked. “It can’t just be to see if I would be a loyal servant to the Tsaritsa.”
“No,” Zhongli admitted. “We wanted to know if you would be blindly loyal, yes, but the Tsaritsa insisted you be given a chance to act as you please, without expectations. She wanted you to make your own choices when there are lives on the line and do whatever you want.” Zhongli took a deep breath. “I… had asked her to allow you to choose where you’d like to stay, had you chosen to save Liyue.”
Suddenly, Childe felt cold all over again. Gingerly, slowly, he took his hands off from Zhongli’s hold. “Is there anything else you need to explain to me?” he asked. His voice sounded strangely hollow to his ears.
“It’s not exactly an explanation, but an offer,” Zhongli said. “If you’d like, we can swap back the hearts.”
Childe blinked. “But it’s not mine. It’s Guizhong’s.”
“It would be yours once you accepted it,” Zhongli assured. “It changed, a while ago. I suspect when you were born. It’s no longer hers.”
He didn’t know what pushed him into taking the decision. His head felt fuzzy with the new information. Too many things to process in too little time. All the same, his hands clenched and he blurted, “Swap them back.”
Zhongli nodded after a moment of silence. “As you wish.”
Carefully, he took both Childe’s hands and pressed them to his chest, frowning, likely at how cold Childe’s fingers still were. He pressed his own hands to Childe’s chest. “Call for the heart,” he said. “Ask it to return. All oaths have been fulfilled, and now they can go home to their true owners.”
It was odd to do so. For all his life, Childe thought the heart that laid still in his chest was his, refusing to beat. Now he had to call for a heart he had never known to rest within his chest, as if he had known it all his life. But it was supposed to be his, and so it would have to be enough.
Childe didn’t want to carry Rex Lapis’ heart any longer than necessary.
Light spilled into the room, gold and silver and blinding. As they coaxed the hearts out of their chests, Childe could feel the unbeating hearts slowly thumped as they sensed their true owners.
The lights slipped out of their chests, and the silver shifted into white-blue as it met Childe’s hands. Childe caught the white-blue light in his palms, watching it morph into a healthy heart, slowly beating with life. It was warm in his hands, glowing like moonlight reflected upon open waters.
“Push it into your chest,” Zhongli murmured. “It will find its home.”
Childe almost didn’t hear him, staring openly at the heart in his hands, wonder in his eyes. It beat softly, in a rhythm he could easily follow. It dawned on him why anyone would tell him to count his heartbeats to stay calm, feeling its lulling thumps against his palms.
Soft hands wrapped around his wrists. “Childe. Let it come home,” Zhongli said, pushing his hands to his chest. Child allowed him.
The heart slipped in. For a moment suspended in time, it felt right, it felt perfect, like nothing had ever been wrong with him. The heart beat softly in his chest and there was warmth spreading to his limbs and it was like he had watched the world upside-down and everything had been flipped back around and it was all new and right.
By the third beat, feelings he didn’t understand and had no way of understanding had flooded him, and he hunched in as he felt himself being swallowed up. He blinked, gasping for breath, unused to having feelings rolling him over without a barrier to keep them back.
Hands took hold of his shoulders. “Breathe,” Zhongli’s steady voice told him. “Childe, breathe.”
He followed the direction, because it was easier than trying to navigate through the drowning haze that made his heart beat faster and faster, that made his stomach lurch and stay at the soles of his feet, that made bile rise in his throat. His eyes burned. He didn’t know why.
He couldn’t fall apart here, not now. He gasped in and with sheer willpower pushed the feelings back, trying to simulate the wall that had kept his feelings at bay when Zhongli’s heart resided in his chest. With a few more gasping breaths, the rising tide receded away, forcefully kept at bay with nothing more but spare twigs and broken bricks. It would break. But for now, it was all he had.
His hands took Zhongli’s off his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what he could say.
“Are you okay?” Zhongli asked.
“Yeah,” Childe breathed. His voice trembled, and he took another deep breath to steady himself. “I need to go see Signora.”
“Is that a wise decision? You’ve only just taken your heart back in. You might want to let it settle first.”
“I just want to get over all of this already,” Childe admitted tiredly.
Quiet, at first. And then, “Okay.”
Childe blinked and looked up, unaware that he had closed his eyes at all. Zhongli’s warm golden gaze met his. “Okay,” Zhongli said again. “But at the very least, allow me to escort you there. For the peace of my mind, if nothing else.”
He thought of the tiredness seeping into his bones and the waves of feelings he was still forcing back. He thought of the fact that he would have to walk again instead of sinking into his bed and let his mind shut down.
He sighed. “Alright.”
Zhongli walked him to the ship and watched as Childe walked aboard. As Signora said, the Cicin Mages let him through easily.
Truthfully, Childe was nowhere near ready for this meeting. His clothes was still damp, and the light drizzle still spraying over Liyue was not helping. He was tired and his body hurt as if a shielded mitachurl had slammed into him. Honestly, it probably showed in his face. He had trained himself to be as expressive as possible, not to keep his feelings under lock and key and keep them away from showing in his face.
Signora, having changed and dried and reapplied her makeup, stared him up and down and lifted a brow. “You look like a mess,” she commented.
“Thanks, I noticed,” he sighed. “Let’s get it over with.”
“You’ll probably get sick in that,” Signora said, “but if you want to go on with this, then be my guest. Come here.”
She led him to a room and locked it once they were inside. For privacy, Childe assumed. It didn’t look like Signora had any plans on ending his life any time soon.
“Did Morax tell you about his and Her Majesty’s agreement?” Signora asked.
“That I be given a choice between Liyue and Snezhnaya? Yes.”
“Good, that makes it easier.” Signora approached the table situated in the room. “Aside from everything I was entrusted to do, I was also asked to become your messenger, whatever your answer may be. Her Majesty wants you to stay here for the meantime all the same.”
There was a crystal ball on the table, set on a crystalline stand. Signora tapped it with her nail, a soft, clear clink. Then she activated her Delusion and enveloped the crystal ball in ice. Then she grew rigid as ice climbed from her fingertips to her elbows.
Winter bloomed in the room. Frost climbed to cover the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. Jutting ice cut through the monotony, as did the occasional smattering of snow. Childe watched wide-eyed as winter unfolded in front of his eyes, shivering lightly at the sudden chill and the way his damp clothes sent each jolt of cold down to his marrows.
When Signora turned to look at him, her eyes had changed colors into icy blue, as blue as the limb-freezingly cold hoarfrost chunks the Tsaritsa’s castle had been built with. Childe gaped before training and muscle memory took over his brain, and he knelt with his head bowed to greet his queen. “Your Majesty,” he said, and forced away the urge to cheer happily at the fact that his voice had been steady.
“Dearest Tartaglia.” The voice that came out of Signora’s throat was definitely the Tsaritsa’s. “Rise.”
Slowly, Childe did. Tentatively, he raised his head to meet the Tsaritsa’s gaze. “Your Majesty… I did not realize you could…”
The Tsaritsa pulled Signora’s lips into a smile. It looked wrong. “Do you know how I can do it, dearest Tartaglia?” She leaned in before he could give an answer and whispered cold breath against his ear that made him shiver. “It’s her heart.”
As she pulled back, Childe stared, wide-eyed and confused. A part of him wondered if it was a good idea to show so much confusion and vulnerability in front of the Tsaritsa, but he hadn’t learned to hide that yet. “Her… heart?”
Slowly, the Tsaritsa circled Childe, like a predator circling its prey. “From the moment you were brought to me, I knew you couldn’t be mine. Not in the way all my other harbingers are mine.” She came to a stop in front of him and pressed a frigid finger into his chest. “It’s your heart. I knew from the start that it wasn’t yours, and therefore it wasn’t mine to claim.”
He frowned. “Did the others give theirs to you?”
“Yes. All their hearts are mine, severed from their bodies to lay with mine in the innermost chamber of Zapolyarny Palace,” the Tsaritsa said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. “Not everyone had hearts to give – you couldn’t give a heart that wasn’t your own, and dear Scaramouche never had one to begin with. Not the kind that beats like ours, anyway.” She lifted Signora hand to tap at her chest. “Some of them gave theirs up willingly. Some needed persuasion. But each of them gave their hearts on their own volition. It makes things easier.”
“How?”
“It establishes better connection with me, for one.” The Tsaritsa once again pulled Signora’s lips into a smile. “And simply put, it’s easier to make quick decisions without pesky feelings getting in the way, isn’t it?”
Childe blinked at her. When he spoke again, his voice was small. “Your Majesty?”
She took his hands into hers. It was cold, cold, cold, seeping down to his bones. “Tell me how loyal you are to me, dear Tartaglia,” she said. “Tell me what you are willing to do for me.”
“Anything,” he blurted without thinking.
“Anything?”
“Anything.”
“Just hours ago you refused to kill for me.”
Childe flinched.
With a nonchalant wave, the Tsaritsa created a sculpture of ice. It grew and stood and gained life, and suddenly Childe wasn’t staring at a hunk of ice, but at his baby brother.
“Will you kill him for me, dearest Eleventh?” the Tsaritsa asked, nudging his hands and sending sparks of elemental energy at him. His Hydro blades formed in his palms without him realizing.
It wasn’t Teucer. It wasn’t Teucer. It wasn’t Teucer. But the sculpture looked up at him with the same wide blue eyes, the same inquisitive gaze, and called, “Big Brother?”
The Hydro blades disappeared at once. Childe dropped to his knees and sobbed. It felt like he was being torn apart, the newly gained heart squeezed of all its worth. “I can’t,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I can’t – Your Majesty, forgive me – “
“There is nothing to forgive,” the Tsaritsa’s voice cut in. The sculpture burst into snow as she cupped Childe’s cheeks in her freezing hands. “It’s your heart, my dear. I cannot fault you for what you feel.” She caressed his skin, lovingly, cruelly. “But I can make it stop, and you can continue to offer me anything you can offer, if you are willing.”
He blinked at her. “Your Majesty…?”
“Signora will stay in Liyue for a few days,” the Tsaritsa said through Signora’s lips, gaze cold but burning. “Her ship will depart to our homeland at the start of the new week. If you come back with her, I shall claim your heart as mine,” her gaze darted to his chest before meeting his eyes once more, “and you will remain my vanguard. You won’t have to feel anything if you choose you do not want to feel. If you choose to stay here, then you will no longer be a harbinger nor will you be a common Fatui. You will simply be a boy from the land of ice and snow no longer welcome in your own homeland.”
His breath hitched. “I… can’t go home?”
“Even if I decreed you be welcome, everyone else likely would see your choice as a betrayal,” the Tsaritsa’s smile was wry. “You know how well we treat traitors.”
He knew. It made him feel cold in another way entirely. “I can’t meet my family,” he whispered.
“You cannot come back,” the Tsaritsa said. “Of course, I would not be so cruel to deny your family a vacation to Liyue.”
Childe found himself silent. He looked away, troubled.
“Take your time and think it over.” The Tsaritsa’s voice warmed. “But whatever you choose, you are still a child of Snezhnaya. You are still mine. You will still carry the blessings of your homeland’s Archon, even if you choose not to follow me anymore.” She pressed her forehead to his. Her fingertips dug into his cheeks, and he wondered if his gums were starting to freeze over through his skin. “Choose well, dearest child.”
She straightened and stepped back. The frost and snow in the room dissipated, the ice covering Signora’s arms disappeared. She blinked, and then the Tsaritsa was gone, with Signora back in her rightful place.
“Well?” she huffed at Childe.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. “She gave me until you depart back to decide,” he said. His voice sounded far away in his own ears.
Signora nodded. “The ship will depart at noon next week. I’ll wait until then.” She looked him up and down. “I suggest you go home. You look like shit.”
He snorted, took the dismissal, and walked away without looking back.
He left the ship with his head buzzing with thought. He had a few days to decide his own fate. It felt simultaneously too long and too short.
It was still drizzling outside. His feet padded against the stone pavement of Liyue as he walked aimlessly, uncaring of where his steps would lead him. Everything felt distant. All sounds filtered in through a muffling layer of ringing cotton. Blackness dotted his vision.
Far away, he could hear voices calling his name. He paused, sluggish mind trying to make sense of everything. Warm hands caught him and gently spun him around, and he was looking back to warm amber eyes filled with concern.
“Childe,” Zhongli’s voice cut through the haze. “Are you alright?”
Distantly, he saw flits of familiar white and blue and the splittingly high-pitched voice that accompanied it. He blinked at Zhongli, silent.
“Childe?” Zhongli called again. “Please answer me. You’re very cold. Did you meet the Tsaritsa already? Childe?”
It sounded wrong, he decided. Zhongli shouldn’t call him that. Childe didn’t feel like a fitting name anymore.
“Childe?”
“It’s Ajax,” he mumbled, before the world tilted and swallowed him whole.
The next time he woke, he was dry, incredibly sore, and running a fever.
He groaned. Being sick sucked.
“Okay, careful now. You’re still sick. Do you think you can eat soup, though?”
He blinked his eyes open and turned. “Lumine?” he croaked.
The girl sat on the edge of his bed, putting the bowl of soup at the nightstand. “Zhongli has to run some errands, so he asked me to keep an eye on you. Paimon’s off getting some food from Wanmin. I’m sure Xiangling will send more food for you, but right now you can have vegetable soup if you’re hungry.”
He glanced at the bowl. “Oh. Sure, I could eat.” He pushed himself to sit and took the bowl. “How long was I out?”
“The whole night. It’s midmorning now. You’re a lot better than I thought you’d be,” Lumine said. She watched as he took the first spoonful of the soup. “You still look flushed, so you’re probably still running a fever.”
“A low one, but yeah,” Childe sighed.
Lumine nodded sympathetically. “If it’s any consolation, you’re out of the thick of it. Your fever was really high before, but it broke around sunrise. Zhongli was so worried for you. It’s a good thing you heal quickly.”
Childe nodded quietly. He finished the soup and murmured a thanks when Lumine plucked the bowl from his hands. There was a steady thump, thump, thump in his chest. His head buzzed with thoughts.
“The Tsaritsa wants me to choose between Snezhnaya and Liyue,” he blurted.
Lumine, who had started to rise, sat back down. She put the bowl aside and watched him, wide-eyed. “…oh. What did you tell her?”
He shook his head. “I have until the start of next week to decide.”
Lumine hummed. She patted his hand. “Tell me what you choose later,” she said simply, then she took the bowl and walked out of the room.
Childe sighed and leaned back to the headboard. For the first time, he truly took stock of the room he was in. Clearly, it wasn’t his; his was almost bare save for the few belongings he truly needed and the few gifts Zhongli had given him. This one was full of knickknacks. Large, painted fans decorated the walls, along with paintings big and small of animals – a painting of nine koi fish in a lotus pond, a smaller one of a dog and a horse in a grassy field, cranes taking flight, a tiger peeking from bamboo leaves, a dragon between clouds. A long table was set against the wall, and more things littered it. Jade sculpture of the Exuvia, gold-lined chopsticks, slivers of gemstones set in glass, jewelry arranged carefully on a small display case, even rocks. Childe may know nothing about rocks, but even he could tell that those were just regular rocks.
This room was so clearly Zhongli’s.
Oh, fuck. He’d slept in Zhongli’s room. Did Zhongli sleep at all? Did Lumine? Had Childe falling sick robbed them of their rest? Shit.
There was no time to thank them or apologize. Lumine didn’t come in again, and when Zhongli finally showed his face, it was with Doctor Baizhu and Qiqi in tow.
“Heartless guy,” Qiqi said as she trotted over to Childe’s bedside, her cool fingers taking his hand. She paused. “Heartless guy… has a heart?”
“Oh?” Doctor Baizhu tilted his head in interest. “I thought your heart does not beat.”
“It’s a new development. Long story short, it beats regularly now,” Childe assured.
Despite his reassurances, Doctor Baizhu insisted on doing a complete check-up, counting his heartbeats and taking his temperature. Soon, he declared Childe well enough though he still needed to rest to make sure he could recover completely and give his newly beating heart a rest.
“You’re not used to a beating heart, and your heart isn’t used to beating regularly,” Doctor Baizhu said. “Let yourself get accustomed to each other. Try not to do anything too taxing for a while. Keep drinking qingxin tea with silk flower honey.”
When he left, it was with a promise of another check-up in a week. Childe didn’t say that he might not be in Liyue anymore by then. As soon as the door clicked shut, Childe slowly peeled the blanket off from his form and stood up, looking around the room. He was wearing what was clearly Zhongli’s pajamas – silk, shiny white with gold stitching.
Something within him ached. He didn’t know why, but he wanted to take off the pajamas, he wanted to be alone, he wanted to pretend that nothing had happened. He heaved a sigh and pushed away those feelings for the sole reason of not being able to understand them.
Zhongli knocked the open door to announce his presence. “Childe? You should be resting.”
Instead of answering, he asked, “Where’s my clothes?”
After a pause, Zhongli answered, “Back, hanging on the clothesline. They should be dry by now. Would you like to change back?”
Childe nodded. “I just… thanks for helping me, but I should go home.”
“I don’t think it’s wise. You’re still unwell.”
He sighed. “There’s a lot of… I have a lot to think about. I just want to be alone in my apartment.”
Zhongli studied him, then nodded. “Alright. I hope you will allow me to escort you home at the very least.”
Childe didn’t have it in him to say no. When Zhongli finally left him in his bare, cold apartment, Childe thought of the warm bed he had been tucked into while sick and the knickknacks lining up Zhongli’s room. He’d only just realized that half of them had been gifts Childe had given him.
He shivered with the leftover fever and the memory of cold hands cupping his cheeks. He sank into his cold bed and bundled himself up under his thin blankets and hoped he would build up warmth soon enough to sleep.
Three days before his time was up, he sought Zhongli out.
He found Zhongli at Third Round Knockout, sipping tea and listening to the lull of stories. Carefully, Childe pulled a chair and sat by his side, and Zhongli offered him a smile and a nod, keeping silent so he did not disturb Iron Tongue Tian’s flow.
“It is said that the Goddess of Dust gave her heart to Rex Lapis and Rex Lapis gave his to her, and upon the exchange, they vowed to keep the mortals around them safe and sound – “
Actually, no, Childe didn’t want to listen to this. He tugged at Zhongli’s sleeve and tried to convey with his eyes that he wanted to leave. Thankfully, either Zhongli was well versed in reading him, or he’d gotten much better at communicating what he wanted with his gaze alone since getting his heart back, since he quickly nodded, finished his tea, and rose to his feet.
“Where do you want to go?” Zhongli asked when they were far enough from Third Round Knockout.
“Anywhere quiet,” Childe answered.
Zhongli hummed in thought and led him out of town, to the foot of Mt. Tiangheng. He nodded politely to the woman standing under one of the two gigantic statues and walked up the overgrown steps leading up to the mountain, past the Seelie Court, and helped Childe navigate through the path blocked by a broken pillar. Eventually, they came to a pond with a broken bridge and lights, where Cryo slimes lazily drifted along their self-made frozen paths. It was no doubt that the pond was once well taken care of, with the two lion statues looking over it. For the first time in what felt like days, a knot that Childe didn’t know was there unwound itself in his gut, and there was a wash of tranquility that he welcomed fully.
Zhongli sat at the edge of the pool. “No one should bother us here,” he said, patting the spot next to him in invitation. “People would come up to the mountaintop from time to time, but for the most part they would stay in the harbor. This is usually a popular spot for teenagers to sneak out to, I believe. But that’s usually at night.”
Childe snorted. “Are you saying you just brought me to teenagers’ make out spot?”
“No, no, this is where they try to woo their dates.” Zhongli pointed to the cave behind the two lion statues. “That is the make out spot. They believe that is where Rex Lapis would bring Guizhong when they wanted privacy to satisfy their carnal desires.”
Despite the distaste he still had at the thought of him having been Guizhong at one point, Childe smiled. “Did you? Bring her there?”
“I did not. Guizhong fell before Liyue Harbor was built, and I was not aware of the existence of this place at that point. And besides,” he sniffed, lifting his chin, “I have class. I would not bring anyone I wish to court to a cave, and even if I do, certainly not one this small and bare.”
“Ahhh. So what you’re saying is you brought her to a big, impressive cave, probably lined with gemstones and jewels and gold.”
Zhongli, unexpectedly, turned sheepish. “Actually, Guizhong was the one more likely to drag me into her abode and demand I take her over her work table.”
Childe burst into laughter. Zhongli smiled at him as he rode out his giggles. When it finally subsided, Childe sighed, taking off his shoes and rolling up his pants so he could dip his feet into the pool.
“Do you feel better?” Zhongli asked.
“Somewhat,” Childe admitted. “I still feel pretty shitty, mind you. I don’t know what I’m feeling half the time and I have no idea how to handle it. It’s been… hard.”
“I’m sure it will get better with time,” Zhongli said.
“It might not.” Childe straightened his legs and wiggled his toes, watching the ripples dance across the serene pool. This far away, the slimes stayed docile and likely wouldn’t start attacking as long as they didn’t bother them. “Do you know about what the Tsaritsa told me?”
“No,” Zhongli admitted. “That is between you and her. I only asked for you to be able to choose where you would like to stay.”
Childe took a deep breath. “She said… she said that if I choose to stay here, then I can’t go back to Snezhnaya ever again. The Fatui would likely see my choice to desert the Tsaritsa. But if I choose to go back, then…” His hand grasped over his heart. He stared unblinkingly at the ripples. “Then she will take my heart and claim it as hers.”
Zhongli was quiet. “And what will you choose?” he asked, soft.
“…I don’t know.” Slowly, he turned to meet his eyes. “What do you think I should choose?”
Lowering his gaze, Zhongli shook his head. “I cannot say. It should be your choice and your choice alone.”
Childe decided he should approach this from a different angle. “If it was entirely up to you, what will you choose?”
“Then I would keep you here,” Zhongli answered immediately, surely. “You might think it’s because I want you by my side, but the truth is, a life without a heart simply does not sound like a pleasant one for me.” His hand found Childe’s, gloved thumb caressing softly. “And you’ve only just regained yours. It seems cruel to take it away so soon.”
Childe closed his eyes and breathed. “I don’t know what I should do. I would miss my family if I can’t come back. But if I return…”
Zhongli squeezed. “Like I said, it should be your choice.”
Childe turned his hand so he could twine his fingers around Zhongli’s and gripped tight. He probably squeezed harder than was socially acceptable, but Zhongli said nothing, simply squeezing back gently, like an anchor in the middle of a storm. Childe’s breath hitched in his throat when he asked, “Do you think a heart will be worth the hurt I feel for never being able to see my family again?”
“I think…” Zhongli paused, then squeezed again. “I think I would rather feel longing and hurt for five more millennia than never being able to love again.”
“Does it truly worth that much?”
“That much and more. A heart is priceless.”
Childe fell silent. He made more ripples and watched as they chased each other until they were gone.
Childe spent the next few days alone, pensive. When the time came for Signora’s ship to depart, he walked to the harbor to meet her.
Zhongli was there, standing in wait, clearly wanting to know his choice. Childe nodded in greeting when he passed him and made a beeline for Signora’s ship. He found her standing at the deck, leaning casually against the railing. She stood unmoving when their eyes met and Childe stopped, just a few steps away from the wooden bridge leading into the ship.
Signora lifted a brow in a silent question.
Slowly, deliberately, Childe took off the mask he had put on his head. Something about holding it in his hands instead of keeping it pinned at his hair made him feel naked and exposed, but he unwound the string that kept it in place and held the mask up for Signora to see.
She stared. Her eyes were unblinking, intent.
Childe crushed the mask in his palm.
It was fine. It was just a mask. But he could feel each piece and shard as they fell, bouncing against the wooden boards of the harbor before laying still and dead at his feet. He thought of his years spent training and killing for the Fatui, fighting for the glory of a goddess who would take his heart and keep it under lock and key. He thought of the days he moved as a puppet for a deity who took out her own heart and kept it away from herself.
To each their own. But Childe would keep his heart.
Signora watched as the mask shards fell. When Childe finally lowered his arm, she met his eyes once more. She lifted her brow again, more pointed this time.
Is this truly what you want?
Resolutely, Childe nodded.
Languid as a cat, she straightened herself and gave one last nod to Childe. An understanding, a farewell. Then, she turned away and yelled to the ship crew, “We’re leaving!”
Childe watched as the ship took off, growing smaller and smaller as the winds and the currents pushed it away to cold, icy Snezhnaya. His throat felt tight and his eyes prickled with heat he didn’t yet understand. When the first tears fell, he didn’t fight it back.
Zhongli stood by his side, a warm, reliable presence like a rock in the middle of the ocean. His hand slipped into Childe’s and he squeezed gently. “Are you alright?”
Childe nodded slowly. “I’ll miss it,” he whispered. “But it’s as you said. A heart is priceless.”
Gently, Zhongli pulled him to meet his gaze. Gentle fingers wiped at his face, and his tears seeped into the dark of Zhongli’s gloves.
“I wish I could erase your tears and make sure you will never feel sad again forever.” Zhongli’s voice was heavy with… something. Childe didn’t understand it, not yet, but it made him feel like he was squeezed from the inside out. “Right now, all I can offer you is my companionship and a shoulder to cry on, if you are willing to accept it.”
Childe leaned into his touch. “I think I am,” he whispered. His voice was drowned in the busy harbor, but Zhongli must have heard because he smiled. Childe sighed. “I don’t understand a lot of things, Zhongli. I don’t understand my own feelings, because for the longest time I can’t really feel them. But I know that I will miss my family and that I will appreciate a companion.”
Zhongli’s gaze turned remorseful. “I’m sorry. Had I known, I would have gone to you in your hometown to return your heart. It’s not supposed to be like that, if the hearts were exchanged willingly.”
“You didn’t know. It’s not your fault.” Slowly, Childe’s hand reached to grip Zhongli’s wrist. He could feel his pulse, soft and steady even through the gloves. “If… one day, if I ask you to exchange your heart with mine… would you do it?”
Zhongli stilled. “Would you want that?”
Childe thought of it, of how Zhongli was kind to him, of his warmth, of the way he thought the best for Childe. Of how he kept his heart safe and how he guided Childe to take the heart back home. He nodded. “Not now,” he said, “but maybe, one day. Once I understand what all these feelings mean.”
Zhongli’s smile bloomed like glaze lilies under moonlight, serenaded with the sweetest song. “Then I await that day patiently. Would you like my assistance in it?”
He returned the smile. “I won’t say no to that.”
“Then, Childe – “
It didn’t feel right. He shook his head, quick and willful. He had left his life as a Fatui harbinger behind. It was only right if he shed away the names given to him as a soldier of the Tsaritsa.
Zhongli quieted. “What shall I call you, then?” he asked.
“Ajax.” Childe – Ajax – whispered. It still felt like cutting himself open, to share his name to the world, but right now he was ready to let Zhongli hear it. “Call me Ajax.”
“Ajax,” Zhongli murmured, rolling the name on his tongue. It made Ajax’s ears feel hot. “It’s a fine name.” He straightened, but his hand never once left Ajax’s cheek. “I propose to you a contract. I, Zhongli, shall help you understand your feelings in exchange for your companionship. We shall review the terms of this contract again once you decided you are ready to exchange your heart for mine. Are these terms acceptable?”
Ajax nodded. “They are.”
Zhongli’s other hand went to cup Ajax’s other cheek. Warm. “May I kiss you to seal this contract?”
Ajax didn’t bother answering. He twined his hands at the back of Zhongli’s neck and surged forward to smush his lips to Zhongli’s. Zhongli let out a surprised sound, but soon he was kissing back, and Ajax melted into his touch, feeling his stomach flutter and his thoughts dissolve like cotton candy meeting water. Afar, someone – maybe a lot of someones – hollered and cheered, whistling loudly. It just occurred to him that they were doing this in the open, in the middle of the busiest part of the harbor. He decided it didn’t matter.
When they finally parted, Zhongli let out a breathy chuckle as he enveloped Ajax in a hug. Ajax nestled his face into the crook of Zhongli’s neck, somehow unwilling to let the world see his flaming face and unsure of why.
“Let this contract be set in stone,” Zhongli murmured into Ajax’s ear. He could hear the smile in his voice.
Ajax smiled. He nuzzled deeper into Zhongli’s neck and settled in the warmth.