Chapter Text
The almost unfamiliar cold engulfed him as he carefully stepped off the boat.
He was home.
When Tartaglia arrived to the nation of Snezhnaya, he typically welcomed it. The unforgiving atmosphere of fear comforted him in ways nothing more could, whether the emotion be directed towards him or not.
Well, that was until now. Until he had gotten a taste of true joy, warmth.
Romantic love was something Tartaglia refused to acknowledge. It was the one thing he strictly shut down if ever mentioned, even if it was to her majesty's dismay. He simply belived that it was something he could not feel, let alone have people feel toward him. But, this is only why the Tsaritsa chose him. Other than his love for destruction, there was one other perfectly sized puzzle piece to fit inside her plan,
Morax.
The Tsaritsa knew that they were made for eachother. Both designed, built, and processed to confront each other again, and again. She knew that Morax would challenge her soldier; test his views to feel the love that she missed so dearly in her life.
Cruel to her people she may be, but to her harbingers, she truley cared.
So, as Childe was the harbinger closest to her, she felt it necessary to give the two of them a small push. She would push, shove them together as much as she felt appropriate to have them know that they weren't simply 'lovers,'
they were made for eachother, celestia be damned if they were kept apart.
So, as her first attempt failed in Liyue, she must give them another.
As he stepped off the boat, Tartaglia officially slipped into his title as the 'Tsaritsas most dangerous fighter,' and spare a look behind him. With the smallest atom of hope, he wished he could see that bustling harbour one last time, before he was sent into a prison he hadn't known he was locked in. Even if he knew that he was a fool, lovelorn tainting his logic, because the farthest he could see was the end of the boat before the white dust of snow in the air muffled his view. Giving up, Tartaglia found it in him to sigh solemnly.
As duty calls, no matter how gruelling the journey, he had to meet with the Tsaritsa at once. Shivering, and lightly scolding himself for getting used to the hot Liyue sun, he ventured to the luxurious palace that stood atop him, gates protected by far lower level guards, who immediatley reccognized him as he began to enter.
__________
The satisfying 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬.. of his boots against the glass floor, paired with the sharp 𝘫𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 of his accesories interrupted the toxic silence that infected her massive palace. It served to make his presence known to everyone, including the Tsaritsa.
He stopped.
He froze. He could feel it, for the first time, the power radiating from the room which kept her majesty had suffocated him.
His breathing became frantic as he stood there-- it was too much-- he was going to pass out--
cloudy black dots circled his vision as he held the wall, attempting to gain composure, even if he knew it was for not. He was definitely going to pass out--
until it stopped.
Tartaglia coughed into his fist, and gasped for air, he stood there for what seemed like hours,
until he gained the courage to knock three times on the door..
_____
The silence was sickening.
As her majesty had not given him permission to enter, he simply stood there, almost sheepishly waiting. Not long, but long enough for him to take in his surroundings.
Looking down, he noticed thin ice that had grown below him. Thin but but not dull, sharp enough to penetrate skin. He looked slightly higher, and silently cursed himself, as his hydro vision was covered with mini versions of those spikes. So much had spread, that he could barley see the dull glow of blue radiating beneath the ice.
With the realization that he could not control his powers, he looked down to the larger spikes, and could now feel the slight tinge of pain throbbing his feet, as well as warm blood puddling in his shoe,
'𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵,' he thought.
It really wasnt an issue, but with that show of power, who knows what could anger the Tsaritsa further..
Well, that was where he realized he was wrong. He knew she wasnt mad. Yes, he knew this feeling well,
she was.. thrilled.
"Come in, Childe,"
her voiced shattered his thoughts, icy, and so dangerous.
__________
"Why hello dear," her smile was clearly shown in her voice, as it almost shook the delicate, blue tinted furniture around them.
Without the right to speak, Childe smiled and bowed respectively, before kneeling at his beloved archon.
Avoiding wasting anymore time, the Tsaritsa started speaking,
"as for your duties, you have done well for causing a scene.." she hummed,
"however,
not gaining the gnosis of Morax was quite the disappointment on my end,"
clicking her tongue, as well as tapping her long nails across her expensive throne in a somewhat rhythmic way, she pretended to be annoyed at her treasured harbinger, perhaps mocking him.
As expected, Childe had not moved. Yet, his outward appearance had been a stark comparison to his inner monologue. Under his mask, his eye twitched slightly at the mention of Morax's name, his distaste for the man-- no-- god had not simmered down since his departure from Liyue. On that eventful night, he had cursed his, and signoras name through the night, into the early morning, heartbroken and hurt. He killed as many hilichurls as he could, but none could cure the rage he felt for that cruel man. The man who played with his feelings, with the irony of him promising Childe he loved him, whilst using his 6000 years of knowledge to manipulate him to his will made Childe hate him ever further. Morax hadn't even sparred the man he used a glance when revealing his identity. It was funny how 𝘛𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘢 was the one beleived to have the inability to feel love.
"But,"
Tartaglias thoughts were interrupted for the umpteenth time that night,
"I had nevertheless agreed with Signora to start a new plan without your knowledge, therefore I am not here to punish you,"
"rise, Ajax."
Childe silently stood up, his eyes slightly blown wide. When was the last time that name had been spoken to him? Since the abyss he thought.
"Today, you may speak only whenever a question is asked, do you understand?"
"Yes your majesty, I understand,"
Tingly sparks of anticipation could be felt in his skin has Childe stood, fidgeting with his fingers behind his back. A habit he had learned, to keep himself from speaking out of turn after the abyss.
The Tsaritsa only smiled softly,
"very well then. Listen close my soldier, I will not repeat myself.."
_____
Tartaglia had finally returned to his room, one that was elegantly connected to the rest of the building by long, almost never ending hallways. Paths that he had long memorized for years. When he had finally had a chance to sit down, he found himself lost in thought..
Once again, his hands worked without his will, fidgeting. Hands that were paired with his leg bouncing, mechanically.
Blankly staring at his thawing vision, his mind ran.
He had to immediatly return to Liyue..
...To just fix his relationship with Mr. Zhongli-- or-- Rex Lapis-- 𝘔𝘰𝘳𝘢𝘹?
Sure, he had a strong relationship with the cryo archon. He knew she would be aware of his attraction towards the man.
But.. He was suprised that she would be so blunt.
Yet, he wasn't sure if he should be dissatisfied with this arrangement.
To be fair, he was a cold blooded killer, someone that should not feel empathy, or be empathized with, even if the feeling does creep through his masked persona often.
Not to mention, he had no doubt that his more.. 𝘣𝘰𝘭𝘥 colleagues would make as many comments they felt neccesary in regards to him having romantic feelings for another man, no matter if the Tsaritsa was fine with it.
But, despite all of his fears, a small part of him was excited. Sure, mad, but thrilled.
Did Zhongli, a 𝘨𝘰𝘥 actually fall in love with 𝘩𝘪𝘮?
Was he telling the truth?
A smile could be felt slowly creeping onto his face,
"I suppose I should start packing."