Chapter Text
Zhongli let him go with a smile. One for Childe to keep for the long road ahead.
"Remember me," was the last thing he asked of him, and the harbinger laughed as if it would be difficult at all.
The image of Zhongli's face imprinted itself in Childe's mind: immortalized behind eyelids for eyes to trace it as he slept. Out in the field, at the palace, or at home; he kissed those lips in his mind, dreaming of the warmth they promised when he'd return.
Weeks became months, and months into years, and the pair took up letter-writing to fill the gap in their hearts. Zhongli shared details of his simple days, and Childe the lands he visited on his travels. Letter after letter, they danced around the topic of Childe's return, but Zhongli never asked of it--avoided it even--to the harbinger's dismay. But Childe knew it'd happen one day, it was only a matter of when.
So, when the letters suddenly stopped, he was beside himself to figure out exactly why.
Useless to his goddess in this state, he was released to collect himself, and he knew exactly where he'd find it. He returned to that warm harbor, heart and mind racing to see the man he'd dreamt of all this time. And when he finally burst through the familiar office doors, he was perplexed to find the room vacant.
"Where is he?" He demanded from Hu Tao, and he was met with a confused "who?"
"Zhongli!" He shouted but she simply shook her head.
"I have no idea who you're talking about," was what he received, and that only made him more panicked.
No one at the Pearl Galley recognized the man's name, and even Xiangling and her father exchanged concerned glances when Childe shared stories of his and Zhongli's meals there together. No one seemed to remember the funeral parlor consultant. It was as if he had simply vanished from everyone's minds.
But there was one person he knew that could never forget him.
Childe found Xiao atop Wangshu Inn, and when he posed the same question he'd asked of every Liyuen citizen, the yaksha's eyes darkened.
"How do you remember?" Xiao asked, voice shaking. "Before he departed, he told us no one but the adepti would retain knowledge of his existence."
"Departed? What do you mean?" Childe asked, more begging than not.
"Erosion took him, and it took every one of us adepti to bring him to his senses enough for him to set things right and impart those final words. The people no longer recall the damage he had wrought, but it came at the cost of losing knowledge of him as well."
Childe was stunned.
Was Zhongli aware of his impending erosion? Did he know that his time on Teyvat was limited? Why didn't he tell him in his letters? Was Zhongli really, truly gone?
"But I still remember him," Childe bemoaned, eyes filled with tears he'd held back all this time. "Why leave me aware when I'm likely the one it hurts the most?"
Xiao could only offer his speculation.
"Perhaps it was an oversight. Or perhaps he hoped for someone to recall him in a better light."
No. There had to be another reason. Childe was sure of it.
He decided he'd find what remained of his love and get the questions he wanted--he needed--answered. And if that was no longer possible, well...
He'd cross that bridge when he'd get there.
The cave Xiao led him to had a seal no mortal could trespass, yet the yaksha relayed that he could allow Childe in, but not out.
"You won't be able to leave without his aid. I can't enter without lowering the seal, and I don't dare defy his final wishes and risk Liyue. Either you succeed or you die in there."
But Childe didn't flinch.
"I'm ready," and Xiao shoved him in.
The domain he entered was dark and mired with a heavy scent that he immediately recognized as that of Zhongli’s.
Except instead of bringing comfort, it filled him with dread.
He looked across the cloudy expanse--tall mountain tops peeking above gloomy smog--and spied a floating stone island far above, blotting out the only light source, and he knew that was where he needed to be. He scaled mountain after mountain, gliding to precariously placed stones frozen in the air but threatening to fall any moment, and every muscle of his screamed by the time he finally reached the elevated platform.
That was when he saw him.
Zhongli's body laid atop a stone altar, his hands clasped and resting upon his chest. His long brown hair framed his golden-robed body, and his skin retained its porcelain nature. He looked beautiful--as Childe had always remembered--yet, the harbinger could not ignore that he was completely still. Not even his chest moved with his absent breath.
Childe approached, fear and anxiety gripping him as he wished upon all of his being that what he was witnessing was not the end.
That who he had dreamt of for all of these years was gone.
He reached a hand onto Zhongli's and fought back the inclination to recoil when what his fingers touched was cold. Stone cold.
"Zhongli?" He called out, but the man did not stir.
So, the harbinger did the one thing he had longed to do for so long and kissed him.
But the lips he imagined warming his heart were cold, and the hands he remembered holding him tightly once upon a time laid still upon a motionless chest. He cried then, at a loss of what to do.
He climbed upon the altar and laid beside the man's body, pulling one of Zhongli's hands into his to lace his fingers within. He sobbed into his love’s shoulder, wishing he could hear his voice once again.
And he stayed like this until the fatigue of his journey and broken heart pulled him into a deep slumber.
"Childe."
The harbinger's eyes popped open at the call of his name, but it was the timbre of that call that brought him to full awareness. For that voice belonged to none other than Zhongli. He sat up and stared at his love standing before him in some blinding space both real and not real all at once.
A dream, he considered, and when Zhongli turned to face him, he knew he was correct. For this Zhongli matched that of his memories and looked nothing like the body he knew he was currently sleeping beside. But this version's eyes reflected sadness and not the fond smile he recalled so painfully.
"You remembered," is all Zhongli said before Childe leapt to his feet to embrace him.
"How could I forget?" And Childe wept, this time in relief. Zhongli hugged him tightly, and for the first time in years, they felt each other's warmth filling each other's heart.
Childe resisted when Zhongli finally pulled away.
"I am sorry I hurt you." But Childe did not seek apologies. He wanted answers.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"It was inevitable," was all Zhongli offered. "I knew it was coming, so I did not want to bring you undue pain."
"But you did hurt me, Zhongli. You let me remember."
"An impulsive decision," he responded, guilt reflected in his face. "When it came time for me to do it, I could not bring myself to. Some part of me hoped it'd bring you some comfort."
"I'm glad you did. I found you. I can bring you back," Childe pledged, but Zhongli withdrew at this.
"Only part of me, I'm afraid," he replied. “The erosion and my subsequent actions have made it impossible for me to come back entirely as I was. If you choose to have me, I will need to rely on you entirely as I won't be able to function without."
Childe bit his lip. "How bad is it? Please, tell me."
Zhongli covered his forehead with a hand. "My memories will be taken."
He slid a hand to his throat. "My voice silenced."
Then a press to his chest. "My powers gone."
"I will be infirm. A shell of my former self, similar to that of my dear friend Marchosius. No longer an archon. Not even an adeptus, but mortal. Even less so."
Childe shuddered. There was no way he could make Zhongli return to a life like that.
But Zhongli detected his unease.
"If you are worried about the quality of my existence, don't be. To know that I will be by your side brings me comfort. I only worry that I will be nothing but a burden to you."
Childe shook his head fervently.
"You could never be a burden, Zhongli. I was prepared to grow old with you, and once I entered this domain, to die with you if I must. This...is more than I expected to receive, as painful as it is." He pulled Zhongli in tight. "Of course, I'll take care of you. I'll never leave you. Never."
And Zhongli sighed, tears falling into red hair before kissing Childe's cheek. He leaned back, feeling out Childe's face, committing his freckled cheeks and teary blue eyes to memory. And he smiled--that same warm smile he imparted on the younger man as his ship left Liyue Harbor all those years ago. The one that Childe clung onto those long, lonely nights on distant shores.
Then he leaned in, forehead-to-forehead.
"Are you certain, Childe?"
"With all of my heart, Zhongli."
Xiao's eyes widened in alarm when the seal on the cave entrance dissipated, and he ran forward to celebrate when he saw the harbinger exit with his lord held aloft in his arms. But that relief cut short when he noticed the bewildered look in Zhongli's eyes and the sad one in Childe's. Childe nudged his head silently towards the inn, and Xiao fell behind with spirits low.
Zhongli sat, head rested upon the sill and staring out a window as Childe explained the contract Zhongli made with him--the very last from the geo archon--and while the majority of the gathered adepti departed with polite praises of their lord's safety, only Madame Ping stayed behind to see how Childe himself fared.
"I'm fine," he sighed, but his demeanor betrayed the weight he carried. "He said his memories would be gone, but it seems the only thing he remembers is me. It's cruel, isn't it?"
Madame Ping shook her head. “No, I’d count it as a blessing.”
"If Zhongli told you he'd be happy even in this state to be with you, then you should find solace in that. He was never one to sugarcoat his words. We are all glad he has returned to us, and like Marchosius found his family, Zhongli has found his in you. He loves you, and as long as you still love him, you have no reason to feel guilty."
Childe turned to look at his lover, and almost as if sensing his gaze, Zhongli did the same, his face lighting up with a warm smile. And while Childe's heart stung at the sight of it, his own lips melted into a reflective smile as well.
He knew he loved Zhongli, more than anything in the world. More than his pledge to the Tsaritsa. More than his own life.
He rose from his seat to sit beside Zhongli, placing his hands on the other's.
"I love you, Zhongli. I vow to protect you and care for you in everything I do. I'll make sure we live our best life, I promise you."
Then he lifted a pinky, preparing to explain the Snezhnayan custom he once shared with the man all those years ago.
But his eyes widened when Zhongli instinctively linked his own pinky without hesitation. His love smiled innocently, nodding his head in recognition, and Childe fought back tears.
"You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life."
This unspoken promise would never be broken.
Childe would make sure of it. With all of his heart.
