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The sky roils with dark clouds and thunder.
To the north a giant beast awakens, spewing fire and thick belches of smoke.
To the south and the east, the sea churns, the flaming sky--and the people it has swallowed--dying it red .
Zhongli watches it all from the mountain that has long stood watch over Liyue Harbor. He aches, yearns to go pull people out of the sea, to raise bedrock from the sea.
But now, he’s paralyzed. An unknown weight binds him more surely than the contract that demands he act. All he can do is watch, as helpless as the people below.
The land to the north shakes again, sending waves crashing against the cliff sides. More people are washed away.
With another deafening roar, the earth rains fire on Liyue Harbor.
A dark cloud races down, swallowing everything in its path. The last thing Zhongli sees before the land he built from the ground up, is the twisted face of the Guardian Yaksha, still giving his all to save everyone he can.
At last, when nothing remains but fire, ash, and charred stone, the beast comes for him too.
Zhongli comes awake with a start. His heart pounds in his chest and for a moment he wonders, where is the fire? What happened to Alatus? Is the harbor….
The former Archon’s thoughts trail off as he realizes that the air is cool, that rain pitter-patters on the roof, that the images of fire and death were just that--images and nothing more.
Zhongli rolls out of bed, glancing over at Neuvillette to make sure he’s still asleep, before making his way to the balcony.
Once again, he marvels at the idea that Neuvillette has chosen him of all people. Judgment, forgiveness, and then genuine companionship and love. It’s more than he thought he’d ever have at his age.
Zhongli steps out onto the balcony, and looks out over the Court of Fontaine, where he and Neuvillette make one of their homes.
It’s such a far cry from Liyue and it makes Zhongli’s heart spasm.
A part of him wants to race back to his people, to make sure that the Harbor still stands and his sole remaining Yaksha is still well. He clenches his fist and stares up at the sky, forcing down that instinct.
Many years ago, he would have, and often did. Morax, Zhongli. Archon and funeral consultant. Wise and well-regarded gentleman. Very few know that the sight of the harbor, happy and whole, has often been the one thing keeping him from nightmare-fueled insanity.
Zhongli’s mine drifts back to the nightmare. Still images of the raging fires and the dark ash blanking out the sky threaten to freeze him in place and the instinct to return to Liyue rises again.
Neuvillette wakes to rain on the rooftop. Instead of finding himself soothed by the music, he finds himself uneasy instead.
On look at the spot next to him and he understands why. Zhongli is gone and the blankets are rapidly cooling.
Neuvillette sighs and rises, forgoing any sort of nightshirt in favor of finding his lover. It’s not as if the rain could ever hurt him, after all.
The dragon sovereign makes his way through their quarters, soon finding Zhongli standing in the rain, no more dressed than Neuvillette.
Neuvillette frowns and wraps his arms around Zhongli from behind. “What’s wrong, my love? What bothers you so late at night?”
Zhongli tenses and Neuvie steps back, turning the former Archon to face him. “Zhongli?”
Zhongli shakes his head and sighs, his golden eyes drifting back to the south east. “I don’t mind your embrace, Neuvillette. I am simply…unsettled, is all.”
“So unsettled that you’re standing in the rain?” Neuvillette watches Zhongli, reading the subtle plays of light and emotion in his eyes.
“Are you afraid?” he asks, with no small amount of surprise. Even to him, the Lord of Geo seems generally unflappable.
Zhongli laughs. It’s a bitter, joyless sound. “It seems that way. After so many years, I should not be so afraid.”
“What bothers you?” Neuvillette asks again.
“A nightmare,” Zhongli responds finally. “One I am far too familiar with.”
Neuvillette reaches for Zhongli once more, pulling him close to his chest. “Will you tell me about it? You let me speak, to ease the stress and sadness that I often accumulate during the day. Will you not let me do the same for you?”
“You make a compelling case, love.”
“Of course. I’m a judge.”
Zhongli laughs again, this time a soft chuckle at his lover's matter of fact tone.
Zhongli wraps his arms around Neuvillette’s shoulders, respecting his forehead on the younger man’s slender shoulder. “It is not unusual for me to dream of Liyue’s destruction. While it is not a frequent occurrence, it is far from unusual.”
“How? What happens in these dreams of destruction,” Neuvillette prompts, running gentle fingers over Zhongli’s rain soaked back.
Neuvie is shocked when hot tears slide down his chest. “Sometimes the sea rises and covers the harbor before anyone can evacuate. Sometimes the mountains fall. And other times the earth breaks open and bathes it in fire. Every time I see my people die. Every time I see young Xiao sacrifice himself to save them.”
“Every time, I am powerless. I cannot move, or help Xiao save who we can. For nearly 4000 years I have watched over them, kept my contract with them, and seen them grow. In my dreams, that is never so.”
Neuvillette pulls back far enough that he can wipe away Zhongli’s tears. “Your people are like your children and I do not know many parents who do not fear the loss of their young.”
“They were not nearly so bad before the Archon War,” Zhongli admits. “I watched so many nations fall. I brought down so many nations and killed so many gods.”
Zhongli clenches a fist, neatly-trimmed nails digging into his palm. “It is so easy to destroy a nation. I gave up my place as Archon, but I still don’t want that to be the fate of mine.”
The adeptus is silent for a time and Neuvillette lets him gather his thoughts.
“Did you know,” Zhongli eventually says, “that I remember the day I gave Xiao his name? I remember the boy adeptus who spent so many years in the hands of horrible gods. How faithfully he has served me and Liyue since then. He is the last of my Yaksha. I don’t want him to fall like he does in my nightmares. Tonight, he was burned in a volcanic eruption. He died in so much pain.”
“I am sorry that you have to suffer through these, Zhongli. Unfortunately, mine is not the power of dreams. I can only offer what comfort I can.”
In response to Neuvillette’s words, the cool midnight rain warms, as if trying to offer its own form of comfort.
A phrase rises in Neuvillette’s memory, along with Zhongli’s dragon form--a form he finds he’s surprisingly partial to. With a slight sense of irony and a faint blush, Neuvillette whispers into Zhongli’s ear. “Geo dragon, geo dragon, don’t cry. We will not let your nation fall in such a way. After all, if a dragon sovereign and the oldest of the seven can’t protect them, nothing can.”
“You would protect Liyue?”
“You would protect Fontaine. And I would protect Liyue. Is that not how a partnership like ours works?”
Zhongli nods and lets the hydro sovereign’s words comfort him. “It is.”
“You should also remember, Liyue flourishes. Since you left them to the Qixing, they have truly blossomed. They will often save themselves, as they have before. Trust them.”
Zhongli shrugs. “I do. If I didn’t, I would have never given up my place as their Archon. But the sleeping mind and the waking mind are not one and the same. The sleeping mind…still fears.”
“Then let me soothe that fear. As I have said, even if something were to happen, you would not be alone. I would not leave you or your nation to be wiped out so easily. You have my word as the Iudex of Fontaine....and as the one who loves you.”
The tension slowly drains from Zhongli’s shoulders. “Thank you, Neuvillette.”
“Do you think you can sleep now?”
Zhongli nods. “If you are there.”
“I would not be anywhere else.”
Neuvillette takes Zhongli’s hand and the two return to bed, finding peace in each other’s embrace.