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[For @999aethers - Chilaether - Canon Aligned ]
Warmth.
It wasn’t exactly the word Aether had in mind when he thought of Snezhnaya.
Cold. Brutal. Vast. Dark. Many things that are not, in fact, warm. And yet…
“Come in! Oh you must be so cold-!” Childe’s mother frets over him the moment the door opens. Dusting off snow from his coat (Childe’s coat) and pressing warm hands to his cold cheeks. He hadn’t meant to, but Aether had sunk into the warmth for a moment.
“Mama, at least let us get through the door!” Childe laughs, shaking snow to the floor as he shuffles past, dropping luggage (that he refused to let Aether carry) once inside.
The home is warm. It chases the chill that still clings in Aether’s bones, even more so when Childe - Ajax - tucks him close with an arm around his shoulders and a (few, many, too many) kiss to the face.. There’s chatter from deep in the house, laughter. More warmth that both makes Aether’s heart sing, but also ache in longing.
There’s hardly a moment to take it in before he is nearly taken out by a swarm - three - little redheads. He recognises Teucer right away (“Mr. Nice Guy!”) and from that it’s not hard to puzzle out Anton and Tonia. They ask questions a mile a minute - “Big Brother Ajax said you look like a star, he was right, are you really one?” “Are you gonna stay forever?” “Have you really fought a dragon?”.
he reminds himself to ask Childe just how much he writes in those letters.
(too much, is the answer, yet not enough at all. theres far too much in that mans heart about his starlight that no letter will ever be able to contain.)
He’s only freed once their Mother herds them off to wash up.
As Chil- Ajax, guides him to their room [“you’ll be rooming with me, lucky you~” “We already share a bed, idiot.”] he points to each and every picture they pass.
A young Ajax with a gap in his teeth and a fish as big as he is - ten years old, perhaps?
A baby, perhaps teucer? No, the freckles aren’t quite right to be either him or Ajax. Perhaps Tonia? They’re reaching for snowflakes out the window, eyes wide.
Ah, this one’s Teucer, with a wide grin, holding up some hand stitched bear.
Older siblings Aether hasn’t met - moved out, with their own families, Ajax supplies - playing in the snow. An older brother (eldest, Childe quips) being pelted with snowballs.
A farewell photo perhaps the next is. A woman who looks exactly like their mother, beaming forward holding a man's hand.
They span all over the wall, little stories that Ajax supplies and laughs about. His first fishing trip, the day Teucer was born, the day before- Ajax shuts his mouth quickly. It’s not like Aether hadn’t noticed, the lacking pictures of an older Ajax as there was his elder siblings. Twelve maybe? Certainly no older than perhaps Sixteen if he were a late bloomer.
“Ajax?”
“..yeah?”
Aether squished more into his side, murmuring a small, “show me our room?” Childe complies with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
–
Dinner is cooking. They’re sat in Ajax’s childhood room, when he was still only Ajax.
“I fell.”
Aether doesn’t respond, giving Childe the space to continue when he deems fit.
“When I was fourteen. I fell. Into the Abyss, I mean.”
Aether tries not to prickle, ignores the way his fingers dig into the sheets and his heart *thumps* just a little harder. Instead he lays a hand over Ajax’s, hoping to be a comfort. It’s silent for quite some time. Then, as though all a joke, Childe laughs, leaning back on his hands.
“Ah, it was just three days, Ae! Mama found me after that, oh you should have seen how worried she was!”
Aether knows Childe well enough, loves him enough, to know this isn’t a full story. But, he also loves Ajax enough to not press on things the other is clearly not ready to talk about. He’s always given that same courtesy to Aether, changing topics easily when one bothers him.
{they dont talk about the way aether grabbed his blade on instinct when thunder and lightning rocked their boat. dont talk about his longing gaze to the sky.}
“Boys!” Ah, Ajax’s Mother, “Dinner!”
Beaming Ajax hops up, all but dragging Aether up with him, a wild look in his eye. “You realise you’re gonna have to help me burn the food off, right?”
“Here?” Aether almost scoffs, “I don’t wanna kick your butt for your whole family to see.”
Now that, that makes Childe laugh, a proper one. One that’s slightly manic, and wild, but full of heart. One that’s all his Childe’s. A kiss is dropped to Aether’s forehead, a “I’ll hold you to that, Starlight,” whispered in a quickly reddening ear.
He darts out before Aether can hit him, laughing down the stairs.
—
No matter what version of the man you spoke about - Childe, Ajax, Tartaglia - one thing was for certain, he kept his promises. To his siblings of gifts and letters, to enemies of exactly how their end will come, and to Aether, of both kisses and smothering hugs, and squabbles in slowly falling snow.
They can’t go all out like they do during their true weekly spar, not when they have to face the family, but they can still slash and kick and shove (“and bite~”). There’s still blood and bruises. Aether has a bloody nose from a good elbow strike, and Childe’s side has a nice myriad of cuts and purpling bruises. Aether yelps when Childe nabs his braid - cheating by the way! - to yank him back, forcing his legs to stumble through the snow.
It’s far more even than Aether would have liked. The snow was still new to him. It was far thicker than in Dragonspine, piled up faster and forced him to either take bigger steps, or push through with more force.
He crushed at Childe and his damn legs and that stupid idiot smirk he always got when things started to heat up between them. He’d kiss that damn expression off his face just you wait Ajax-!
He would have won, he swore it!
It was this damn snow! And the shine of the stars reflecting off Childe’s eyes - wonderfully wild and deep - and the stupid smile he wanted to kiss and the hands he wanted to hold and- They both tumble to the ground when Aether’s foot catches in snow that’s heavier than he thought, clutching Childe’s scarf (if he weren’t falling he’d have laughed at how something so simple caught THE Eleventh Harbinger off guard.) and pulling him down too.
They plop in the snow with a flurry of flakes. Childe face first and Aether flat on his back. The cold shocks and forces the Outlander to lock up with a frosty gasp. It wouldn’t have happened if he’d had all his powers, the strength of the sun and the warmth of distant stars.
But they laugh.
Ajax rolls onto his back, nose scrunched up and hair a mess, but he’s laughing.
And Aether watches their breaths mist in the air as they face each other, cheeks red and eyes bright. It’s second nature for their hands - sore and stiff, roughed from years of fighting - to meet. The sky has long moved on without them, but like always, time is hardly a factor in what they feel. It’s hard to squeeze Ajax’s hand, but Aether manages, thumb stiffly swiping over the back.
“They don’t see me as Ajax much anymore, if ever,” Ajax tells him suddenly, but his expression hasn’t changed. Perhaps in this moment saying it doesn’t hurt as much. Maybe it’s easier because he can focus on Aether, who never knew ‘that’ Ajax. “They don’t say it, but I know. Well… They don’t say it when they think I can hear.”
Aether rolls to his side, messing up whatever sort of snow angels they may have been making. But he doesn’t let go of Ajax’s hand.
“It hurts, though, when you hear your own Mama say she lost you when you’re right there. That you look dead after you lost your light…” It’s not spoken with sadness, as though Ajax isn’t even talking about himself. But Aether knows how he feels. It’s his eyes.
It’s always Ajax’s eyes.
“Why?”
“Guess I lost that childhood spark when I was fighting for my life for three months.”
They both pretend that he didn’t just reveal a lie.
Ah.
“That’s why there’s no…”
“No pictures, yeah. Guess they couldn’t handle seeing someone who isn’t properly their son.”
Childe doesn’t look at him. He stares at the stars. But his star looks directly at him.
Looks at the man who has a bit of a crooked nose from constant brawls. The man who could dot his own constellation out of freckles. The man who grins too wide and wild when they squabble. The man whose eyes remind Aether of the sky, of the deep night, of fond memories of travel. Remind him of deep oceans with many secrets, but so, so many beauties.
Aether looks at the man he loves and the man who he wants to spend lifetimes with.
“A shame they’re wrong, then.” Aether finally mutters, turning to face the sky as well.
“Mm?”
“That you lost your light. I’ve seen a lot of darkness in my life, but not with you.”
There’s a lump in Ajax’s throat and he squeezes Aether’s hand instead of answering.
“That’s yours, by the way,” Aether points skyward, “Monoceros Caeli.”
“Oh,” he manages, “so it is.”
It’s easy to pretend most things don’t bother him. Water off the narwhals back, or something akin to that. But when his heart is so full of his family, it stings deep to know they think him empty, dull. It doesn’t surface often. The younger ones don’t even know the Ajax his parents ‘lost’, they love their Big Brother no matter what - for now, a tiny part adds - and the older ones seem to have accepted that change long ago.
Sometimes he wishes his parents would too.
But, he supposes, it’s hard to, when your darling boy became what he is.
(though never think he regrets his life. he doesn’t. he couldn’t defend and provide for them if his life was different. wouldn’t have met aether either.)
“Thanks, Starlight.”
–
It’s late when they ‘sneak’ back in. Kind of soggy like runaway hounds, but giggling like teens in some silly little novel. They steal kisses - mostly Ajax - as they stumble to the fire. Sopping clothes hit the ground with wet *plops* but they both promise to pick them up later.
It’s mostly Ajax stealing kisses. Constantly stopping to smother Aether’s face in cold lipped love. Holding his cheeks and mashing their lips together less than gently and less than neatly. Aether giggles and tries to squirm away (barely) but always gives in when his favourite guy whines that he’s unloved.
But Aether’s not blameless. He shucks clothes from Ajax’s shoulders so he can plant little kisses over each and every freckle he seems, mumbling little compliments as he goes. “So cute, my favourite constellations on my favourite Fatui.” “Handsome.” “Strong.” “A pain in the ass.” okay so mostly compliments. It’s fine, they all make Ajax grin.
The fire is warm and the blanket is smothering, and Aether gently unhooks Childe’s vision from his belt. A thumb rolls over the surface of it, carefully, lovingly, and Aether’s heart swells at the show of trust as Childe doesn’t even flinch at its removal.
Instead he’s trying to hoard all of Aether’s still shivering body to himself. A kiss on the neck to make him laugh, blanket holding hands swooped around to trap him, and cold nosed nuzzles to his cheek.
Maybe it’s the fire. Maybe it’s the joy. Maybe it’s just Ajax.
Whatever it is… He shines…
“Ajax.”
Their noses are brushing, Aether whispering upon his lap, hands cupping heated cheeks.
“I love you, my light.”
The Eleventh laughs, nuzzling their noses together. “Maybe that light is just your reflection?”
Aether doesn’t have it.
“No. It’s you. It’s always been you. Maybe your parents can’t see it but I can, Ajax. Your heart, your soul, all of you, shining…”
Their lips meet again, as though trying to breathe the words into him.
“My favourite light. My Ajax.”
They’re wrapped together, laid back on the floor. Warm.
“Well…you’re my favourite too, Aether.”
“I love you, my shine..”
“I love you too, Starlight.”
Perhaps they’d be scolded in the morning, leaving wet clothes trailing to their cuddled up bodies. It would be worth it, though. Any and everything would be worth it for even a sprinkle of time together like this. For but a peek at the other.
For the light of their lives.
Yeah… Warm was a good way to describe Snezhnaya actually.
{“The Abyss might not shine, but you do, Ajax. You always will to me, I promise. Forever.”
“Forever, huh..? Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea. You’re stuck with me now, Aether.”
“As if I’d want it any other way..”}