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Every week Childe expects to fight Lumine. Every once a week she comes. Sometimes with a full party of mixed companions, or if she's feeling quite confident, just herself.
When the Golden House doors open, Childe is welcomed to the sight of... himself?
They really do stare at each other for a good while before Lumine shoves not him. Childe shrugs off the fact there's another version of him. A version of him who was much closer to the traveler where he calls her comrade. Partner.
These weird, yet fond, nicknames for her.
A version of him where Lumine comfortably calls not him by his title, Tartaglia.
Tartaglia was a version of him that was closer to Lumine. No ulterior motives, no schemes. Just two companions arm in arm, ready to beat his ass this week.
God he wishes that was him by her side instead—
But an opportunity to fight himself? He better not waste it. How much better does he get when not doing Fatui work? To finally roam Teyvat and slay enemies left and right with the one person who can beat him?
What was it like to travel with Lumine? To fight by her side, to get stronger and adventure the world with her?
...he wants to experience that. To be unshackled by his job as Harbinger just for a moment and travel underneath the stars with the only person he finds worthy to be his equal.
How considerably lucky this Tartaglia is. Childe tries not to be too bitter when throwing his shots. Childe notices how this version of him, Tartaglia, does not use their delusion or shift into their Foul Legacy form.
Impressively, he manages to get him down pretty good with the worse bow skills (is that really how he uses the bow? Oof...) Still not good enough though.
"I expected better from an alternative version of me," Childe taunts after hitting Tartaglia with riptide. Again. (And he keeps running to the flame wall? Strange, but it gets rid of his riptide marking which is a little annoying and starting to get on his nerves if he has to be honest—)
"Don't push your luck," Tartaglia wipes the sweat from his brow. "I'm not the one who needs to use one's own delusion to prove how strong they are." He says with such a cocky attitude and wow, this is how he acts? And he doesn't even use his delusion? What if the situation calls for it? What if Lumine is in a dire situation where his delusion was needed?
And he doesn't even fucking use it. The audacity, the shame.
The mere thought himself unable to protect her because of what? Pride? And this one travels with Lumine all the time?
It makes his blood boil, his delusion crackling under his armor of his Foul Legacy.
This version of him was a joke. Unworthy to be Lumine's companion.
He'd protect her, keep her safe from any and all harm by whatever means necessary.
Childe just barely grazes Tartaglia with one of his water slashes. Just a graze, but enough for riptide to stay in effect.
And Tartaglia was too far out of range from the fire barrier to get rid of it.
Childe doesn't hesitate to raise his blade.
And in one blink, he's down.
He really shouldn't feel too much glee and satisfaction from being the one to defeat a version of himself to the ground.
But he is.
"TARTAGLIA!" A screech and for a moment, Childe completely forgets the one person that really mattered in their duel.
Childe turns to face Lumine off to the side, an unspoken rule that it'd only be a one v. one even with friends. They can tag in and out whenever they wanted, it didn't matter to Childe as long as he gets the thrill of their fight.
Her eyes were so wide, staring at the other him's fallen state, rushing over with food in hand. Childe idly watches as Lumine chides Tartaglia as he wakes up.
"Idiot! I told you to swap out if you're low on health!" Lumine hisses, the annoyed expression masking the array of emotions dancing in her eyes.
Worried.
She was worried for him.
Not Childe, but this unworthy version of him that caused her to worry in the first place. Lumine was never worried for him. But for Tartaglia? She lavishes him with more attention than he could get from her.
Just for being a little too reckless.
To be jealous of yourself. How laughable, and yet here Childe is. Jealous of himself for her attention.
"I must have made a miscalculation," Tartaglia laughs, wincing slightly at his light jostling. "Avenge me, pretty girl?" He teases, but his gaze is so soft and tender. He cups her cheek in such a loving manner.
And Lumine leans into his touch.
Childe wants to chop that hand off so badly.
"Don't act as you've died." Lumine huffs, eyes softening, giving the fallen him a gaze that she never gave to anyone else but her little fairy companion.
Childe wants that.
Will you look at me like that too if I fall too? A question echoing with yearning. He doesn’t get that when Lumine’s gaze snaps back up to his, hardened and cold, void of the warmth she had previously given to Tartaglia.
No, he wants the soft and warm gaze again. He wants to bask in the fond gaze of her golden eyes.
He wants her to look at him like she does with Tartaglia.
She doesn't.
Lumine unsheathes her sword and rushes at him. If anything, the fall of Tartaglia awoken something in her. She's faster, dodges his moves with more precision than before, even daring to get close to him to deliver her elemental moves.
She's angry and Childe finds her so beautiful in her quest for retribution for him.
How beautiful she is... when she deals the final blow to his Foul Legacy form, melting away his armor and shifting him back to his human appearance.
She always beautiful in his eyes, even when standing over him, sword pointed at his throat. But Childe doesn't get to bask in her victory and his defeat for too long before an arm drags her away. The serious look on her face is washed away when Tartaglia lifts her up, giddy from the battle.
"You were amazing comrade!" Tartaglia has this wide grin on his face. A genuine grin.
Childe thinks he can see a little shine in the other’s eyes.
Lumine flushes a deep red under his praise, embarrassed and flustered, trying to coax Tartaglia into letting her down. He doesn't. He shows her off as a proud man, even when it's just them.
Lumine smiles at Tartaglia—not him—with such a gentle face. Her hand brushes some strands of his bangs out from his face, Tartaglia preens under her touch.
Will you smile at me like that with that loving gaze of yours? Childe asks himself, watching as the duo—or were they a couple? Childe couldn’t tell. He doesn’t think he wants to know either—leave.
Will I ever get to hold you like that? Embrace you and spin you around? He's suddenly too cold for his liking now, wondering what it’s like to bask underneath Lumine’s warm gaze and soft smiles.
Can I hold your hand like that? Will you allow me to? Childe stares and clenches his fist, it's empty, too empty. What was it like to hold her hand? She’s so much smaller than him, no doubt her hand will completely be engulfed by his.
Childe sighs, leaning back against the Golden House walls, wincing slightly in pain even though the pain in his body can’t compare to the pang in his chest. He stares up at the ceiling, muttering with yearning, "One day, I'll be by your side… comrade."