Chapter Text
mondstadt
the inn was small and it quickly swelled with people who, no doubt, were trying to avoid the typhoon that has struck mondstadt. the wind hissed from behind the windows, clattering against the wooden walls in a fury so unlike the gentle winds that usually wandered your country. you shook your coat, the fabric dripping wet, and shivered, cursing yourself for your lack of hindsight. “i should have brought my leather bag instead,” you thought. your entire bag was soaked and you didn’t have any warm clothes left to change into. you had no food too. even your cigarettes had turned into a messy sop as you had, again and again, forgetten to close the case properly. you threw them out of frustration, growing colder by the minute.
you searched around for any source of heat. the fireplace was already busy with adventurers hovering near it to dry themselves. all the rooms have been swiftly occupied but the owner was kind enough to let the soaked people inside to take cover. you sighed, dreading to sleep on the floor. you hadn’t expected any delays in your journey to dihua marsh. it was a two hour travel from your home, much faster so with a windglider. even with the common slimes and hillichurl encounters, it wouldn’t have been much trouble. you had planned to gather some horsetails for a commission and get some food at liyue, just enough to keep you for a few days. but now, with the damn typhoon, you regretted your lack of preparation.
“y/n!” a cheerful voice called you from the crowd. you glimpsed at a gloved hand waving at you and a ginger you knew all too well, much to your chagrin, came walking towards you. his clothes and hair were drenched as well but he seemed chirpier than ever.
you hurried away instantly, not wanting to have anything to do with him. you had met the harbinger in liyue when you were doing one of your commissions and got into a scuffle with him when your employer happened to be in his hitlist. things led to another and both of you fell into a duel in which you had foolishly started, unaware of his name and title back then.
“hey, don’t leave me behind,” he chuckled, hopping in front of you and preventing your escape. you paused and said, “hello,” curtly, not hiding your disappointment from encountering him again. during your stay in liyue harbor, he never stopped pestering you for a rematch. even when you left the city, he was there to send you off, but not before throwing a dagger next to your feet.
“let’s duel for the last time, comrade,” he said. he pulled out a dagger of his own, pointing it at you in challenge.
you simply took the dagger from the ground (it was a beautiful, expensive-looking dagger after all) and left. you didn’t even waved him goodbye.
“what’s with the long face?” his voice disturbed you from your deep thoughts. “something happened?”
“you,” you groaned. “you happened.” you ran your fingers through your hair in irritation. “what brings you here? shouldn’t you be in liyue doing your shady deeds?”
childe crossed his arms, pouting. “aw, don’t hurt me like that, y/n. aren’t you glad we met again?” his face was of genuine hurt and you wanted to punch it. “it has been awhile you know,” he added. “what are you doing here?”
he didn’t answer the question, you noticed, but did not pry any further. the less you know about his work, the better. “going on a trip. then got stuck in here because of the typhoon,” you explained, shaking your head. “i’ll be leaving soon though. there’s no room left to get some proper rest here.” you scanned the inn, which was already full of people.
“huh? in this weather? i know you’re strong y/n but going against a typhoon is never an easy battle,” he said, his language already about hurdles and trials. why is he so weird, you asked yourself.
childe continued. “you can stay with me. i have a room booked just a while ago and i don’t mind having some company.”
you didn’t want his company but you wanted the room. the longer your stayed here, the colder you felt. you were beginning to feel a chill coming from you as well, signs of a cold about to hit you eventually. a warm bed would be nice. and even so, with this man? your thoughts scrambled between necessity and, well, childe, who was not necessary at all and would only bring you a headache.
the young man noticed you struggling to answer and said, “i have a bottle of mondstadt’s fine wine, from the infamous Dawn Winery itself,” he claimed, patting his bag. “and some leftover cold cuts too. it’s a shame they don’t serve food here. i’d love to treat you to a better meal than this.”
"no, childe, i don't--"
"please, y/n," he said, his eyes hopeful. a strange expression crossed his face, different from his usual proud mask.
you grunted, giving in. he had tempted you with lodgings, drink, and food, all three which you badly needed right now, so what’s a little headache inexchange for that?
you just have to keep patient for now. you can do this.
–
the room was small and didn’t even have a fireplace. it only had space for a table, a closet, a sink, and a bed, a single bed, you noted. it was, at all means, a perfectly functional sleeping quarters and nothing more. you threw your bag on the table and began taking out your things, hoping they’d dry even with the lack of decent heating.
childe scanned the room. “i didn’t know it would be this small, my bad.”
“it’s fine,” you said, putting away your coat to squeeze out the water on the sink. “it’s a simple inn anyway, and i don’t think this place was made to stay in for long periods of time. can’t do much about that, i’m afraid.”
childe sat on the bed, pulling out his boots. “i’ll sleep on the floor,” he offered. you turned to him, shaking your head.
“no.”
“but won’t you feel uncomfortable if we slept ne–” you held up a hand, interrupting him.
“it’s just you, childe. you won’t make me feel uncomfortable or anything,” you said, pointing at him. “annoy me, yes. but you paid for the room and let me stay so i’m not letting you sleep on the floor. it’ll hurt my pride. rather, it makes more sense that i sleep on the floor–”
it was his turn to interrupt you. “no way i’ll let you do that.”
“i expected as much,” you said, crossing your arms. “so we’ll share the bed. i’m okay with that so don’t worry about me. just don’t hog the blanket all by yourself.”
“of course, comrade.”
you sneezed all of a sudden and you felt your throat starting to itch. childe was taking off his scarf, hanging it by the door. “you okay?” he asked. “i got some medicine here if you need it.” he grabbed the pouch of herbs from his bag and tossed it to your direction.
“it slightly baffles me how well equipped you are,” you said as you opened the pouch. childe didn’t strike you as someone who prepares his things properly beforehand.
“my subordinates usually give these to me in advance, in case i got lost or something,” he said, patting his bag. “it has helped me a lot in different situations so i’m glad they took care to prepare it for me.” you imagined his soldiers frantically looking for him everytime a battle catches his attention and lead him away from the group, and hid a smile.
he started to take off his shirt and you glanced at the scars littered all over his body, no doubt from his many, many battles.
he noticed you looking and said, “i’ll leave in a bit so you could change your clothes too.” he was wearing a gray sweater now and it looked so warm and comfty.
you sighed. “i don’t have any spare clothes so you don’t have to bother. they all got wet in the rain.”
he widened his eyes. “oh, we can’t have that. you’ll get sicker then!” he exclaimed. “i don’t have an extra pair of clothes, unfortunately, but..” he trailed off and started to take off his sweater. you quickly pulled his arm down, your face flushed.
“stop lending me all your stuff!” you cried. “not your own clothes too, for archon’s sake. what the heck will you wear?“
"well, i can’t let you sleep on wet clothes, y/n,” he said. “not only you’ll get sick but you’ll damp the bed. also, i’m perfectly fine sleeping naked, duh.” he looked so proud at what he had just said and you pondered on how he couldn’t have realize how stupid it sounded right out of his mouth.
“i won’t lie there soaked, you idiot. of course, i’ll wait for myself to dry,” you said. “you’ve done enough. let me be this time, alright? and i don’t want to sleep next to you naked.”
he frowned at you, unsure. “you’re always so stubborn, young adventurer.” the nickname always felt strange coming from him. he always said it with such tenderness. “anyway,” he started, his hand splayed on his chest, “you can take off my clothes anytime you need it, y/n. i’ll give something of a fight of course, but i won’t make it too hard for you.”
you ignored him, pulling out your dagger and opening the bottle of wine with it. he recognized the weapon, and his face brightened up.
“just shut the fuck up and let’s drink,” you said before he could even point it out. “and please put on your goddamn shirt.”
–
the wine had warmed you a little and the meal was even better. childe did all the talking. the drunker he got, the more his tales became elaborate and wilder. more so, his animated storytelling made it look like an entire one-man show, and it made you forget the chill forming in your back for a short while.
you had forgotten most of his stories when you slid on the bed, burrowing your face on the soft pillow. your head felt numb, uncertain if it was because of the wine or the medicine you took. atleast it didn’t hurt.
you turned to your side, your eyes already closed. tartaglia fell next to you, an arm crossed over his eyes. sleep did not come immediately as the effects of the wine urged him to do something more active. the room was too small to do some exercises and he didn’t want to bother you with his training, seeing how you badly needed some proper rest. you were hunched like a ball, undoubtedly feeling very cold right now. he wanted to give you his clothes but you stubbornly refused to accept it, so, instead, he draped the blanket over you, turned to your side, and focused all the excess energy he had cautiously watching your sleeping face.
–
liyue harbor
tartaglia had met you in liyue harbor by the docks one hot evening. it was the height of summer in liyue and the evening air was sharp and crisp, and for him, it brimmed of battles to be seeked, warriors to be hunted, opponents to challenge.
he was looking for a businessman who had escaped the fatui’s claws so many times now, clearly hiding from his debt. he received reports that the man visited the harbor once every three months to receive a package from the adventurer’s guild. tartaglia thought it was as good as an opportunity to catch him and perhaps, ask him what’s he’s been up to these days.
the businessman was holding a package when he found both of you. he and someone wearing an adventurer’s garb were hidden at a corner near the warehouse, seemingly in private conversation.
the businessman was about to give you his payment when he caught sight of the harbinger and froze. you looked so confused back then, staring at him questioningly, probably wondering who this stranger was.
“hello,” he waved, greeting the both of you. he glanced at you, smiling. “forgive me but i need to speak to this man for a moment, if you don’t mind.”
the man next to you remained quiet and tartaglia could sense that he wasn’t going to give in without a fight. his eyes darted sideways, preparing to run, and tartaglia was going to let him, wanting a bit of a chase. from the looks of him and his previous successful escape records, he seemed capable and intelligent, and it thrilled the harbinger. from what he had learned in his stay in liyue, the country had no lack of unpredictable people to meet.
tartaglia had already set his eyes on the man, waiting for him, daring for him to escape. his body brimmed with electricity, and he was about to tell him to run when a hand grabbed his arm.
“i got to him first,” you said. you looked straight at him, a mask of composed fury on your face. “he still hasn’t paid me yet.”
he was a bit shocked that you were still even there and more so, your tone was far from polite. you didn’t seem to recognize his uniform, or his mask even, and guessed that you were perhaps not from around here.
he smiled.
“forgive me,” he started. “but this man here,” he pointed to the businessman who had already skittered a few feet away from him by then, “he has owed us mora for some time now. i’m afraid i have to take whatever amount he was suppose to give to you as it, truthfully told, belongs to us. i’m very sorry.” he said, shrugging you off.
the man started running and tartaglia watched him go. he was fast but his panicked strides made him bump against people, slowing him down. that won’t do, he thought, yawning. he hopped his feet in anticipation, preparing to run.
“what he owes you is none of my business.” you gripped his arm, the strength from it startling him. you looked very tired and very annoyed.
“i earned that mora. you can’t take it away from me,” you gritted. “i came all the way from mondstadt just to give him his package. i can’t just return empty-handed. he owes me too.”
“my apologies, but i can’t do much about that i’m afraid. i have a contract i must keep and this man is sullying our agreement. you must be aware of how liyue holds its contracts as something unbreakable, set in stone, as the saying g–”
“let’s make a deal then, a contract, as you call it,” you interrupted. “let’s make this simple. i catch him for you and you pay me. you’ve been searching for him for months, haven’t you? i’ll give him to you before the sun rises. and i want double the price of what he owes me.”
something in tartaglia’s blood boiled then, a sense of excitement rushing over him, much stronger than the idea of chasing the man earlier.
“sure,” he replied, grinning.
you stretch out a hand and he took it, gripping it firmly.
“but there must be rules,” he said, pulling you close. you glared at him, matching his challenging gaze. “i’ll join the hunt too. if i get to him first, you receive nothing. but if you win, i’ll triple the price that you receive. and maybe buy you breakfast too if it comes to that.”
you seemed to hesitate for a moment, then sighed. “okay,” you said. he beamed, shaking your hand. but when he let go, you grabbed his shirt and pushed him against the wall, his eyes widening by surprise.
“breakfast must be at the most expensive restaurant here. swear on it.”
he nodded, “okay,” mesmerized. satisfied, you briskly walked away, and tartaglia, now alone, let himself lean back to the wall and reached for his chest, savoring the loud beating of his heart.
—
mondstadt
you began shivering in the middle of the night.
tartaglia, still wide awake, laid a hand on your forehead. “a slight fever,” he murmured. he opened the lamp placed above the bed on a window. the light was too small but it would do. he got up and started rummaging in his bag for a clean cloth he could use to put on your forehead.
he found a small towel and hurried to wet it with cool water by the sink. he hears you cough from the bed, and it sounded bad. he had a bit of medicine for coughs, he remembered, and got another pouch from his bag.
he moved to the bed and placed the towel on your forehead. he noticed that the blanket was too thin to warm you properly and considered folding it to make it thicker. he pulled it off you and folded it in half, only to realize that it was a bit damp. he reached out a hand to touch your clothes, wanting to see if you were still wet.
all of a sudden, you jumped at him, pushing him to the bed. he gasped as you pinned him down, the surprise stunning him for a brief moment.
“what are you doing?” you asked hoarsely, your brain still muddy from sleep, sickness, the wine, and so much more, and here was childe, hovering over you in the dark. you feel your strength disappear each second but you held him hard. “answer me,” you pressed.
you couldn’t see childe’s expression but he seemed to be not breathing at all. you began to wonder if you had accidentally knocked him unconscious.
“your shirt’s still wet,” he said quietly. “your condition will only grow worse if you keep wearing it so please listen to me, okay?” he easily shook off his wrist from your grip, startling you. you were about to punch him when a hand cupped your cheek and you stopped. childe’s hand was so warm, and you had the sudden desire to curl into it, but your stubborn pride unable you to do so. feeling stuck, you didn’t lean on it but you didn’t forced it away either.
“you have a slight fever,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your cheek with his thumb. “i’m going to change it with mine so we could hang your shirt to dry for a bit. i really hope you don’t say no, but can you do it, y/n? for me?”
his voice couldn’t be any gentler and that part of him surprised you. he was always so merrily aggressive, even when he’s being kind. but now, he sounded and felt so soft, it was hard to ignore it.
you nodded slowly, still in a daze. part of you didn’t want to be taken care like this, not by this man, but you didn’t have much of a choice. you were cold, sluggish, and slowly getting sicker by the minute and your strength was incomparable to his. you might have beaten him again on another day but right now, his sweater looked really warm and his voice sang less irritatingly in your ears. he was also making a lot of sense, that in which you cannot fight back. you slumped in defeat, sitting on your knees in front of him.
childe pushed himself from the bed and began undressing you. his hands did not feel unpleasant at all. you sighed in pleasure when he slid his hand behind your back to support you as his other hand pulled your clothes off your body.
you glanced at the harbinger when he took off his sweater. despite the weak flames from the lamp, his scars still stood out, their existence appearing even more compelling in the dim light. you winced, wondering how it had felt when he got them. it must have been painful and terrifying, but his stories say otherwise. childe revelled in his battles and it touched into something akin to insanity. you had seen it with your eyes before, on the night when you had first met him. yet still, you felt pained seeing them somehow. some of the scars ran deep, others long and large as if something inhumane had scratched him. one scar caught your eye, a small one near his shoulder and you knew it all too well because you had made it yourself. you shuddered, remembering what you had done. you were better than that.
“y/n?” you hear his voice calling yours. “something wrong? did your temperature go up?” he muttered, feeling your forehead again with his hand. you began to lean on it, your body beginning to crave more of his tenderness.
“no, nothing’s wrong,” you said. “your scars just amaze me,” you admit.
he grinned. “i’m humbled. but you can admire them later after i put you some clothes on.”
you nodded. childe’s hands were quick and practical, not wanting to bring you any more discomfort. but you can’t deny how his fingers burned in your mind.
“you’re so warm,” you whispered, catching his hand and leaning your cheek to it. he felt his skin shiver, confused and elated by your affection. he can’t help but bow into it, melt as you curl into his body in a way that was so unexpected of you.
“you should drink some medicine,” he said, grabbing the cup next to the sink and handing it to you. when you wrapped your fingers around the drink, his hands covered yours, and both of you watched them, surprised over the simple form of contact. you closed your eyes, trying to be rational and yet, the irrationality of this situation brought you much comfort. you liked the warmth, liked how he was the only warm thing in this room and how he freely shared it with you.
for tartaglia, it was you who was making him heat up. every touch from you carved into his body. it was not so different from combat when his opponents manage to land a blow at him. it was a drink much more stronger than any wine, the feeling when he had finally found a match that could make him feel warm, make him feel alive, more human, something that only ached in him during battle.
and so, once more, he savored the loud beating of his heart, now at the palm of his hands.