Archive of Our Own

It’s been three weeks since they last slept together and Tartaglia, Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers was ready to walk up the walls.
He was sitting around the fire, holding a bowl of steaming hot soup and trying his god damn hardest not to look at Pierro who was sitting across of him at the fire, next to Capitano. They were surrounded by Pierro’s unit and some of Capitano’s - men and women, all seasoned warriors over the age of thirty and he knew, one misstep end everyone would know that he fucked the leader of all the Fatui and Fatui Harbingers.

On the other hand, he was very, very cold and could barely suppress the shivering of his muscles and the shattering of his teeth. Fuck this. He drank his stew down with shaking hands, it was thin but rich in meat and vegetables. Capitano and Pierro were eerily good hunters.
A blanket on his shoulders made him flinch.

“Here, Eleventh. You look like you are about to keel over.”, came the directors voice from above with heavy hands on both of his shoulders and the fur was thick enough to hide the movement of the thumbs caressing him. Barely. A fleeting moment. Suddenly his mouth got dry yet there was no time for weakness. “I am fine, my Lord but thank you nonetheless.“
The older man was already on his way to get himself a bowl of soup. A graceful nod back was all the answer he was allowed to get. They were both of the opinion that it would be better if no one knew of their little liaison. They weren’t doing anything illegal but better to be safe.

Still he buried himself more into the blanket, the fur was soft and he dreaded when he had to return this piece of comfiness. It also smelled like Pierro. Which was nice.

“Has the Eleventh still not fully recovered yet?”, came Capitano’s voice from across the fire and he started to drink-eat his bowl of soup again, pointedly ignoring the comment. Pierro snorted at that.
“Rubbing salt into the wound? How unlike of you, Capitano.”
“That was not my intention. He usually gets very fast back on his feet.”

Yeah, no shit. But fucking the leader of all the Harbingers wasn’t doing wonders for his physical recovery. Rather only his stress levels and mental health. And after fighting that blasted whale for weeks - WEEKS - there was a weariness in his being he couldn’t quite shake off. Pierro’s scoff reached his ears and he focused on them again. That was a very rare thing.

“You haven’t read my report yet and it shows. That creature he fought is part of the reason he himself mutated when he fell into the Abyss. At this point, he is probably fated to fight that damned whale for as long as he lives.”

Now it was his turn to snort.
“How poetic, my lord.”, he said snidely and couldn’t suppress a shiver.
“That explains your lack of complain about staying in Mondstadt with Pierro, Eleventh. Even you can grow weary of battle, it seems.”
For some reason this rubbed him wrong. “A cruel joke, especially from you, Capitano, since you should know above all others how the Abyss can twist and mutate.”, was all he said emotionlessly while standing up.
“I’ll take a walk around the camp, my lords.”
He bundled the blanket around him some more, gave the bowl back and went in the direction of the lookouts they stationed. The climate on Dragonspine was icy, rivalling even some places of Shneznaya. His ears still catched the silence he left behind.

“I’m usually his favourite. What happened?” Capitano sounded concerned.
“That was cold even for Lord Tartaglia.”, said one of Pierro’s men.
“Don’t take it to heart, old friend. There’s more to it and he has been tense ever since we left Mondstadt. He also feels Durin’s presence and the leftovers of abyssal corruption.”
“Durin?”, was the last thing he heard before he crossed the tree line.

A few steps and he could finally breathe easier. Moving always helped to calm him down and he nodded every now and then to the guards on look out duty as he passed them.
Unfortunately Pierro was not wholly wrong in his reasoning - Dragonspine and Liyue were regions that put him on edge like nothing else. Tsaritsa’s sake, he wanted to go home and a part of him really, really wanted Pierro to fuck his worries out of him, even if it was just one quickie against a tree.

But no…he probably had to wait until at least Sumer, when they were alone again. Or worse, Fontaine.
His sigh was very very deep.

“Eleventh.” That wasn’t Pierro’s but Capitano’s voice and he squared his shoulders as he turned around to face this Behemoth of a man.
“Sir?”, he asked carefully yet the imposing effect was done for by the sight of him bundled up in a blanket.
“I did not mean to offend, Tartaglia. While you may have a hard time believing that, as long as you are in Pierro’s and my company you can relax a little since very few abyssal related things actually want to pick a fight with us.”

Usually the Captain didn’t pay much attention to him. Why now of all times?! On the other hand it was funny to know that as soon as he was injured he apparently had “puppy protection” by some Fatui. He also noticed this in Pulcinella and surprisingly, Arlecchino. Pierro was a given, ever since Fontaine’s fiasco.

“Tartaglia?” He was spacing out, damn it!
“I…appreciate it, Capitano. And I’m sorry for snapping at you but P-Lord Pierro is right about me getting nervous because of Durin…the heart and everything around it is slowly but steadily regenerating.”
Tightening the blanket around him, he turned and allowed himself to nuzzle into it. Pierro’s familiar scent calmed him a little as he continued.

“I worry a bit more since Fontaine. It’s been years since I was trapped this long in the Abyss. At least I got over it better than the last time.”
Capitano hummed and stepped next to him.
“How old were you back then?”
“I think I was fourteen or something like that.”
The sigh next to him was very, very tired.
“Far too young. It’s a miracle you survived in there.”
And there we go again. Despite his age, Capitano was sometimes naive in a very strange way. Tartaglia snorted. Loudly.
“Oh please, sir. A very big part of me died in there. Now all that is left of me are my bones and a bone-deep hunger for fighting and blood. At times I wonder, if you and the Director weren’t mutated and twisted like that or if you’re just keeping it very well hidden.
Surprisingly, Capitano gave a sharp, bark-like laugh at that.

“I can only speak for myself - I remained and still am quite sane but my flesh is the worst case of rot on any surviving human of Kaenri’ah in this age. Pierro only half rots - “
Oh yes, he remembered all too well the bluish flesh and blue-silver streaks.
“But he too had troubles for the first century, since he mutated.”
What? “I beg your pardon?”
The First raised his shoulders. “He was already powerful before the Cataclysm and during it, he at times seemed to mutate into a…monster. For lack of better word. His thirst for blood and revenge was unbelievable.”

It was the first time, Ajax had ever heard of this.
“When he was thrown into the deepest and darkest pit of the Abyss, he fought his way out. Believe me, you think you took bloodbaths every now and then? It’s nothing compared to what he did. Even today, some of his fights are remembered but somehow no one makes the connection to him as he is now.”

His eyebrows raised. Perhaps there was more to Pierro’s leniency towards him, than he originally thought.
“That is…somehow comforting to know.”
They both flinched at the third voice joining them. The Director had found them both.

“Are you gossiping about me to our youngest, old friend? Don’t ruin my reputation.”
For once not caring about their audience, Tartaglia let a tiny grin show.
“Nothing could ruin your reputation, my Lord.”, he said lazily and Pierro raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer to him. “Is that so, boy? Glad to hear that.”, was rumbled gently in his direction and the Captain’s head snapped to the older man. Huh, that was too out of character apparently.

“I see the two of you got closer in the time you spend in Mondstadt. At least you didn’t fight.”, sighed the Captain and Tartaglia’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“We should head back, you two.”, was all the response their leader gave and he was herded back to the camp by Pierro’s sheer bulk, who kept him always a step or two in front of himself. They came back not even 10 minutes after the director had taken leave and he could see, how more than just a few shoulders relaxed at that.

The director also noticed and snorted loudly at his own unit.
One, no, three Skrimishers flinched at the sound. “Apologies, my Lord.”, stammered one out. “We did not mean to offend!”
At that he had to pretend to be cold, so he could tug the blanket half way up his face to hide the grin growing on his face.

“At times I wonder if you think me harsh to the Eleventh. For once and all, I will not and have never hurt him, for Tsaritsa’s sake. And she would be the first to stomp me into the ground.”
Then Pierro turned his head back to him.
“See that, boy? You turned my own unit against me. You get ‘puppy protection’, as they say.”
Ajax dared to tease back.
“You literally wouldn’t let me out after midnight, my Lord. And you warded off the Dark-Night-Hero, when he tried to catch me alone in the dark.”

Silence. Then-
“Oh Archons, did you develop parental feelings for the Eleventh, Pierro?”
Now they both snorted at Capitano.
“Of course not! But he won’t listen otherwise, if you only tell him to rest. What was I supposed to do? The Tsaritsa and I need him in good health. And he doesn’t act like it. I was about to chain him to the bed.”

That wasn’t exactly a lie though he remembered it very, very differently. Still, Capitano seemed to buy it.
“Fair enough, he really does not rest enough.”

As everyone took a seat again, Tartaglia slipped the furs of his shoulders - god was it cold - and made sure to thank the director for his loan. “Here my Lord. I’ll take my leave for the bed now.”
Pierro was back to his usual, professional self, his tone level and keeping his distance.
“Keep it, Eleventh. I could hear your teeth shattering last night from the tent next to you.”

Capitano nodded, the atmosphere in the camp finally relaxed.
“He is a little thin for this weather.”, said the captain and one of the older Skrimishers nodded. “No offence, young master Tartaglia but for someone in his twenties, you do not eat enough.”

He nearly rolled his eyes yet wrapped the blanket tighter around himself before taking a look at the agents around the fire again. Capitano was as relaxed as one could be and Pierro was leaning back while crossing his legs. The glint in his eye was amused.
“Or take a dog with you, since they are good bed warmers.”, he said jokingly, looking, no, almost leering at him and it took everything to not let his countenance slip.

Then came a single bark from either Capitano’s or Pierro’s men, young by the tone of voice and he couldn’t make out who had barked but Lord Pierro’s grin suddenly turned more into a baring of his teeth. Something that Capitano noticed too as well as very few others.
Not good. He quickly gave an amused snort to diffuse the situation.

“And people say, the younger generation has no manners anymore.”, he laughed while shaking his head. “Goodnight my Lord, good night Capitano. I’m not fond of dog hair in bed.”
With that he quickly turned around and went for his tent.

The tense silence was all the answer he needed, even after minutes chatter was slow to start again. Even so, there was something about Pierro being protective - or rather possessive - that did something for him. It made him feel warm and the thought relaxed and worried him in equal measure.
He shoved the thought aside and let it instead aid him in falling asleep. And then he had something, dreamed of something, that hadn’t happened ever since he turned 18 years old.
At the ripe age of 26, Tartaglia had a wet dream about the fucking director of the Fatui Harbingers.

 

\\

 

His first indicator that he was dreaming was not so bad. He sat at the large dining table back in Zalponary Palace. Her majesty the Tsaritsa on her usual throne, gently smiling at him. Strangely he was sitting next to Pierro who had his cloak draped around him. Dottore and Pantalone were suspiciously quiet.
The second indicator was him on horseback behind Pierro, on one of these monstrous, cold blooded horses, holding himself with both arms around the other’s waist.
Behind them, following, was a whole battalion and by now he was sure he was dreaming.

But it was a wonderful and relaxing dream and then everything changed for the last time then.
He was laying on furs. A lot of them, pilled in front of a chimney where a cozy fire burned. It should be cold, it was night and there was snow falling outside of the windows but he felt warm all over…probably due to the body behind him and the thick thigh between his own legs.
“What are you thinking about, pretty boy?”, was whispered into his ear and yeah, alright, this was starting to get really cliché…and really good when a calloused hand stroked up his back.

He woke up at that with a gasp, just as he was about to come, sweating, shivering and with a hard on that was pulsating. Fuck this.

As a result of the dream he was jumpy all fucking morning. Hyper aware of himself and of Pierro who had looked at him with a narrowed eye, making it abundantly clear, that he knew something was up.

After the day’s march they were sitting around the fire, eating in comfortable silence when one of Capitano’s more daring men nearly sealed his and their own fate.
“Lord Tartaglia, I mean no offence but I do have a question.”
His stomach already felt weird and he nodded at the man.
“I am not sure if I want to head it or if I’ll give you an answer but go on.”
Across from him, Pierro’s left corner of his lips lifted slightly.

“Each Harbinger has rumours surrounding them. Even the director himself and my lord Capitano also. About their private life and so on. Some love rumours are also in the orbit.
Except with you. Only thing truly known about his Lordship Tartaglia is his love for fighting, he likes to drink and laugh with the soldiers and is always ready to fight. Is that really all or are you just very good at sneaking around, my lord?”

There was a heavy gaze on him. Ajax looked at the other man instead. Capitano was as unreadable as ever with his helmet.
“Ah. That.” The soldiers started to look at him with far too much curiosity in their eyes and he gave a deep sigh.

“While it does get…lonely, most people simply aren’t interesting enough for me and I don’t want to worry loosing them every second, you know? Dangerous life and all, eh?”
Tartaglia looked up at the starry night sky and hoped to the Tsaritsa that they all attributed the redness of his cheeks to the cold.
“At times I wonder if the Abyss changed me too much. Not only by the physical but also mental state. On the other hand, I do not know how to change it.”, he said solemnly and the easy laughter and smirks around him slowly died down, when everyone realised just how much there was behind his reasonings.

And the Director - as always - reacted promptly.
“You were a child when you fell into the Abyss, Eleventh, barely fourteen years old with a father that did not pay attention to his surroundings which cost his son three months in the darkest pits of hell and any chance at a normal life.”
The Director’s voice was serious and Capitano also nodded. Tartaglia locked his eyes with Pierro, who looked back just as serious.

“It’s not your fault.”
He shrugged.
“The Abyss mutates some more than others, Lord Pierro…at times I wonder if I need a larger monster than myself for a partner. But that is probably not possible.”
A lie, to raise sympathies. A lie, posed as a question. A lie, to hide his true feelings to the public.
It wasn’t love or too soon to call it such but he had found a monster greater than himself.
Said monster apparently slowly caught on by the glint in his eye, the slight tilt of his head.

Capitano then ripped through the illusion of them alone.
“You are no monster, Tartaglia. You are traumatised and still dealing with the effects. Time will help but some things do not leave the mind easily.”

Next to him, Pierro nodded and Ajax nodded at Capitano.
Thank you, Captain.”
There were a few moments of silence before Pierro let out a small laugh and some agents damn near flinched at that. Everyone watched as the Director leaned back.

“While it feels that way, Tartaglia, you are thinking a little too much about this. Do not view yourself this negatively.”
The older man also gazed into the sky now, where the stars shone brightly.
“Because if you are a monster…then what am I? Or Capitano for that matter?”

Oh, that was well played, a very good chess piece.
Some would see it as an elder giving advice to someone younger.
And some would think about the way he said it, the way he positioned himself almost as if he was the larger monster. Maybe it was just reassurance. Maybe it was more.

 

\\

 

Their cat and mouse game continued through their journey back to Shneznaya.
Pierro got weirdly protective in Liyue for a minute - only travelling at night, hiding by day - until Ajax managed to catch him alone while they were doing rounds of patrolling.

“My Lord Pierro. Stop it. Please. It is getting kind of…obvious that you are trying to keep a low profile, especially in regards to me.”, he said quietly.
Pierro’s stance stayed rigid.
“I am literally half expecting Morax to come and try to take you away.”, was the rough answer and oh please, that was so not going to happen.

“My Lord, with all the respect, that won’t happen. Rex Lapis made himself abundantly clear in that regard.”
At that, the older man suddenly stopped walking to look down at him.
“Is that what you think, Eleventh?”
That tone did not bode well for him.
“Boy, I know you can fight but you are not nearly at Capitano’s, Morax’s or my level for that matter. Do you know what you are, compared to me?”

While he shook his head, Pierro took a careful look around them before he slid a hand around Ajax’s neck to bring them closer together as he bend down.
“You are spoils of war, Tartaglia. And I am well aware that I’m not the only one who’d like to have that feast.”

Their noses were slightly touching and the director literally sniffed at him and the sudden pulse of warmth in his lower belly nearly made his legs wobble. Pierro was close. Closer than he had ever been since Mondstadt, close enough to smell, close enough to touch, close enough to kiss. It’s been three weeks. Tartaglia wanted more yet all he got was a quick touching of their lips due to the man in front of him who backed away as if burned.

“Not here. Not now. Caution, Eleventh!”, was hissed at him and he really, really wanted to scream “Fuck caution!” back.
“I-I’m sorry, I just wanted to- to touch.”

He knew it was no real denial, it was more to their situation and difference in status but still. He ached for some skin-on-skin contact, something to counter the warmth that tingled under his skin.

“Do you think me one of Sandrone’s machines, you fool?”, came the sharp answer back from Pierro who had all but frozen in place a few meters away.
“Do you believe yourself the only one who yearns? It has been over 250 years for me, believe me you do not know the amount of self-control I exert to hold back. But for now we have a mission. Know, that I would stake my claim on you publicly, for all to see if we were not Harbingers.”

Tartaglia was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. Oh my.

“Until we are in Sumeru City, at least that, where Capitano will depart to visit Natlan again to see how far they are in rebuilding their nation, we will have to be careful. He already noticed I give you more attention but for now attributes it to paternal feelings. However, some soldiers do think about the way I asked that question a few days ago and your reaction and answer to it.”
For the first time in the years he had seen and been around Pierro, there was frustration in his voice.

“Capitano would try to challenge me or at least give me an earful for misleading you.”
“Are you misleading me?”
The older man gave him a look at that. A very disbelieving one.
“No.”, came the flat answer. “But Capitano knows I am no longer a man of honour. Did not expect this outcome, I’ll admit that much but I will play the cards I’ve been given. As always. And one of them is a little obsession with you.”

Tartaglia could feel his cheeks redden and coughed.
“The obsession is mutual.”, he said stiffly and got a snort for an answer.
“I know that. For now, we can only think of each other. You can take care of yourself in your tent.”
Pierro’s gaze was just a tiny little bit unnerving.
“No one will bother you in your tent. Fuck yourself raw on your fingers, torture me with your half-repressed sounds. No one will say anything. They have all been with either me or Capitano since the beginning of their careers, they remember being young in the military and the lack of privacy that comes with it. And some of them have now a higher opinion of you, due to your words two days ago…well played, by the way.”, came the very weak grin.
“Likewise, sir.”

And strangely, just like that, the tension between them relaxed a little, shoulders dropping and Pierro started to walk again, keeping his distance but at least he now knew why.

“While not just yet, I do not plan on hiding this forever.”, was suddenly said and Tartaglia nearly tripped at those words.
“But you-“
“Yes, I know what I said. But the possibility of one of us dying is very real and if one or both of us is taken and then dies, the pressure of the aristocracy would loosen, if not disappear altogether.”
That much was true, quite a few ladies and noble families were keen on having a Harbinger in their family. Still, there was one more uncertain factor - her majesty the Tsaritsa herself, the Cryo Archon.

“What about…her majesty herself? I am her weapon of war, the vanguard after all she does like me but what if- I mean she can’t kill you, she needs you but -“
Before he could finish his sentence Pierro snorted again, more then amused.
“Oh my archon, will you please stop snorting and grumbling at me? At times it feels more like a conversation with some sort of animal!”

“The Tsaritsa almost ordered Dottore and Pantalone to lessen their taunting on you.”
Oh. Nice to know, that his loyalty to her was returned.
“I didn’t knew that.”, he said timidly.
“Of course you didn’t. The others keep a lot hidden. Arlecchino does not show it, neither Capitano but both would come to your aid. I hope it goes without saying but the Rooster acts nearly more like your father than your actual father-“
Yeah, Pulcinella was more caring, that was true.
“- and the Tsaritsa would not kill me, yes she needs me for the war against Celestia, but would probably curse me even more than I already am. If I were to harm you.”

There were a few seconds of silence as the camp and Capitano’s hulking figure appeared in the distance.

“She wishes happiness for her most loyal heralds and if two of them found some solace with each other the she may have a serious conversation with us but would let us be. She knows, the luxury of a peaceful life and death won’t be granted to us.”, Pierro continued calm, almost whispering.
An explanation wasn’t necessary, Tartaglia already knew in which direction this was headed.

“And an emotional story under the usual stoic Harbingers would certainly raise sympathy and even more awe for us.”
The older man nodded and moved closer to him, walking barely two steps behind him.
“It would be more convenient for her, than bring trouble. Besides, I do not think we will be able to keep our…partner…ship for too long secret from her. While it is early for us, she is like a bloodhound for these things and thoughts and you now what she is the goddess of.”

Ah yes. The issue they’ve been dancing around in the four weeks spent in Mondstadt and the two weeks ever since they were travelling. That damned word. The feeling which wasn’t meant for Harbingers.

“I know.”, he answered in a normal volume. “Her majesty will probably have a surprising reaction to that, director.”, he continued in a respectful but cordially tone, as if they were simply having a good and productive conversation while walking into the camp.
The Jester nodded in a regal manner. “It will certainly get interesting, Eleventh.”, he said just as they came to stand before Capitano and some other Fatui.

Tartaglia felt dwarfed with Pierro nearly towering two heads above him, relatively close and shielding him from the harsh liyuean autumn wind near the chasm.

“The rounds were quiet, nothing strange so far. We are safe for now.”, said the director monotone and he nodded next to him. Capitano sighed. “I am not sure what has gotten you on edge like that, old friend, but I trust your judgement. Still, it will be fine, nothing will happen. Morax doesn’t have the habit to stir up unnecessary trouble.”

Capitano’s helmet was pointing at Pierro and as Tartaglia craned his neck upwards, all he saw was a bearded jaw, a muscle that ticked involuntarily and a rigid stance.
“It would not make any difference, old friend.”, came the grumbled answer and everybody was silent as a lamb in the camp.
“I fought against him briefly 500 years ago and I’ll fight him again if I have to.”

It became a little too tense for Tartaglia’s taste. “We’ll reach Sumeru’s borders tomorrow morning my Lord. Capitano is here, I am here and you. Overkill, even for someone as ancient as Morax. It will be fine.”
His serious admission was destroyed by the rumbling of his stomach. Two heads looked down at him. Capitano shook his head. “Hungry, Eleventh?”
He shrugged and Pierro blinked down at him.

“You will not fight. We’ve trained lightly in Mondstadt will do more during the travels but that whale did a number on you. Even Capitano and I wouldn’t fight this beast so easily for weeks. Do not think me a fool, boy. I see the little winces and muscle pains you still have and the way the time without you hydro vision got to you.”

Yeah, alright, Pierro wasn’t amused and the other gave him a sharp nod to the fire place.
“Get yourself some stew and then rest.” His tone did get a little teasing in the end. A gentler note to it.
“Her majesty would have one of my fingers if something were to happen to you.”
Tartaglia couldn’t suppress a tiny grin.
“I’ll be on my best behaviour then, my Lord.”, and slowly made his way to the fireplace.

 

\\

 

They crossed Liyue afterwards without any problems, as they thought but the director stayed alert. The last few miles were marked by very harsh wind and he had to concentrate on his steps so nothing would happen.

“What is this damned wind?”, screamed one of the pyro agents. At the same time an exceptional strong wind hit them. Some rammed their weapons into the ground to hold steady - themselves as well as one, two, the really big skrimishers even three other comrades.
Capitano, the old gentleman, was hindering two citin mages and two mirror maidens from getting blown away, holding onto them for dear life.

At first, Tartaglia managed to hold onto the ground, lost his grip after a few seconds and he hated to admit it but his recovery wasn’t as fast as he thought. Fucking thrown away by the wind, he heard some of his agents scream.
“My Lord!” - “Lord Tartaglia!”
Then the world turned upside down, spinning, until he crashed against something. Something warm, white haired, as unwavering as a rock.
An arm gripped around his waist, pressing, hugging him close. He hugged back with all of his strength, entangling their legs while Pierro held them on solid ground with magic. Their group of 40 people endured like that for a few minutes, forty groans and panting from the strain, sometimes inaudible to the winds.

“Pierro-“, he nearly screamed into his ear, more out of worry but also because the howling of the storm was his only chance to call the other by his name for now.
“Hold on, don’t let go!”
When the winds finally died down, most of the soldiers stumbled down to the ground. A collective noise of relief was heard.
His Deja-Vu was intense, once again buried under Pierro’s bulk, his scent, the feeling of hands on his own and the sudden rush of warmth along his back took him by surprise. He stifled his whimper against the fur of the older man’s cloak who shuddered above him.

But Pierro had an iron grip on himself.
“Everybody alright?”, he called out to their group, getting mostly affirmations and some groans.
He himself could taste dirt in his mouth, realising that some probably saw him half buried under the director.
“And you? Everything alright?” Hot breath agains his cheeks, his own probably as red as a tomato.
“…it’s only my pride.”
“Better your pride than your head.”, came the low reply back and he suddenly realised how quiet it got around them. Quite a few eyes were on them. Oh no.

“I’m fine”, he said weakly. “Just a little crushed.”
“Apologies, Eleventh.” But the director still had to get up. “I did put almost my whole weight on you there.”
A few minutes later, they were back on their feet.
“There’s a large cave ahead, well protected.”, said Capitano loudly.
“We’re close to Sumeru’s borders, let us wait there until the storm dies down, Pierro!”
“My Lord! I’m with Capitano here.”

Yet the persuasion wasn’t necessary, the director held the same opinion.
“Everybody, hold onto each other, I want three in the same line heading backwards, hold onto the coats of the people in front of you!”, came the barked orders, familiar enough to most and within seconds they were ready to leave.
“Capitano, to the front! Eleventh, with me.”, ordered the old mage, dragging him by his upper arm to the front line and was placed between them.
“Capitano, hold onto his arm.”

Like tightly smithed armour they moved and soon reached the cave which shielded well against the storm. Further in it was dry, thankfully only smelling slightly like dirt and rain. They set up camp and with the adrenaline wearing down, he suddenly felt the scrapes he got while getting thrown around by the wind. And the iron grip of the captain on his right arm, as well as Pierro’s really fucking painful grip on his left arm, fingers digging into his flesh. His knees were wobbly.

“My Lord Pierro, my arm - you’re hurting me.”
The feeling of getting pulled against the other was great but not like that.
“Apologies.”, murmured Pierro back and let go of him. Wincing a little, he rubbed his arm, seeing the worry in more than just one pair of eyes.

 

\\

 

Later that night Tartaglia heard the rumours. He was halfway asleep but something kept him still awake.
“My Lord Capitano.”, said the captain’s second in command, almost whispering, with quite a few people sleeping.
“Forgive me, if I cross a line…but the Lord Jester seems very…very protective of the Eleventh Harbinger, Master Tartaglia.”
Silence, heavy and tense. Then, a female voice.

“Be grateful that the Lord Jester is on lookout for now. He wouldn’t have such a deep slumber as Lord Tartaglia.”
“Enough.”
The Captain’s voice was resolute.
“Something has changed between them both, yes, even someone half-blind can see that.”
Again, tense silence and he had to concentrate on his breathing.
“I haven’t seen the Jester like that in a ling time, his tone hasn’t changed in regards to out youngest Harbinger. His actions however have. He seems worried about him.”

“What does that mean for us?”, whisper-yelled suddenly Pierro’s own second in command. Again, silence.
“Either it’s going to end well and Lord Pierro has sort of adopted Tartaglia or…”
“-or it’s a little more complicated than that and we’ve got an entire different situation at hand.”, finished Capitano broodily. “In which case it will either end well because Pierro doesn’t do reckless things. Or…he has finally lost some of his marbles and somehow developed an obsession with our youngest…”

There was los murmuring in the ranks around the fires.
“My Lord Capitano, permission to speak freely.”
“Granted.”
“A lot of us don’t know what to think of that yet. The life of a Harbinger is no happy one-“
Finally he recognised that voice! It was Ekaterina.
“-but all of Master Tartaglia agents would loose respect for the director, of he were to hurt the Eleventh. Despite his age and status.”
Capitano sighed again.
“I know. I will talk to the Jester. There is a reason for this and it’s either really simple or very, very complicated.”
Ajax could feel the tension but to keep his facade of seeping, he cuddled more into his blanket.
“…Lord Tartaglia has been sleeping unusually well, so I don’t think it’s something bad.”, finally said Tiana, one of his mirror maidens.
“We shall see.”, said Capitano and that was it. “Quiet now, the Jester will be back soon.”

And he was right, not soon after Ajax could hear Pierro’s steps and it relaxed him enough to further sink into sleep.
“Everything’s quiet out there. The storm still rages on and we shall wait another night. Make two more fires.”
His tone was also low, carefully so.
“We’ll reach Sumeru within two hours march as soon as the storm dies down.”
The answer eluded him. He fell asleep too quickly.

 

\\

 

His arm hurt. That was his first thought waking up the next morning and with a grimace Ajax got up slowly, blinking against the early, half dark morning. Almost everybody was asleep, except for one.

Pierro watched from the caves entrance how he got up and Ajax tip toed over to him.
The mage’s gaze softened and it made the younger one giddy, when a palm stretched out to his. Of course he took the opportunity, taking the hand and got an almost…gentle smile.

And that gave him an idea. They couldn’t talk but he wanted the man to know about the talk the others have had the other night. He pulled back, signalling to wait as he pulled out a small block. As fast as possible he wrote everything down and then held it out under Pierro’s nose whose eye hushed over the letters.
He watched, every micro expression, every raised eyebrow, a twitch in his face muscles and the well-kept white beard, the blue, blue eye looking at him amusedly. The single wink he got made him look away like a virgin.

Then the pen was was taken out of his hand and an answer was written.
“That’s actually one of the best outcomes of this situation. They aren’t completely averse to us together. Relax.”
Ajax nodded and took his block again, wincing as he felt the probably nasty bruise on his arm.
“Apologies.”, was mouthed at him and he quickly looked around. Everyone was asleep and even Capitano’s head was turned into a different direction.

He took the chance, laying his palm along Pierro’s cheek who leaned into him, letting his head rest against the hand. Then, movement to their right and everything went back to normal. He let go, the director straightened himself and turned to look outside.
They both froze just a tiny bit as Capitano got up and joined them.

“The storm died down. Let’s wake them all up.”
They did. Nothing happened afterwards, passing Ormos, the little village and finally reaching Sumeru City.
Where everything had to take an unexpected turn of course.

 

\\

 

It started great. Walking to the inn, renting all the chambers for their groups, a good two nights sleep, warm food, baths and stoking up for further travels.
When unexpectedly, the Dendro Archon, the small Dendro Archon stood in the door frame, smiling kindly at them, then at him. Everyone, the whole room fell silent. Shit.
“Greetings to the Fatui. I am lesser Lord Kusanali and I would like to talk to the Harbingers in this room.”

They slipped effortlessly into shneznaya-diplomat-mode but somehow it wasn’t what the Dendro Archon wanted. She looked at him, because she knew Tartaglia from the Traveller’s side.
“It is nice to see you again, Tartaglia, this time without the Traveller.”
Oh shit no.
“I would like to have a word with your leader and the Captain and afterwards with you, if that is alright?”

“Of course, I have no objections to that, Dendro Archon. However, my superiors should also agree.”
As he looked back, Capitano and Pierro were staring at each other. Capitano’s helmet moved in a very light nod before they both took a step into the Archon’s direction.
“We agree to your terms, Dendro Archon. Where will we have that discussion?”
“Just right outside of the tavern will be fine. I will put a shield around us, so nobody will hear our negotiations.”

While they stepped outside he took a large sip of the beer in his hands, mentally preparing himself. Most of the soldiers were silent, except for a few whispers. Ekaterina came over after 10 minutes.
“My lord, surely the Dendro Archon wouldn’t say anything, if one of your own agents were to go with you?”
He turned to look at her. “None of you will come outside with me. It will be fine but should anything happen…tell Lord Jester to give my bones to my mother. The Fatui are above all else but my mother is still my mother.”

The silence caused by this statement was heavy enough to take a Teptilsaurian down. A few looked like they wanted to protest, others nodded. Ekaterina gave a court nod.
Five minutes later the door opened again and the director stepped with Capitano back inside. The mage’s gaze betrayed nothing.
“She is waiting for you, Eleventh. If she tries anything -“
“It will be fine, my lord Pierro.” Just this once he tool the liberty to interrupt the older man who looked a little sour at him. Something he usually wouldn’t show so openly.

Then “- you will flee.”
He nodded, passing him and Capitano while looking for the child-like figure. Nahida stood to his right under a large palm tree with twinkling eyes.
“I think the director of the Fatui Harbingers likes you more than he admits. And I am about 90% sure, that it is mutual.”
No time to waste was the apparent motto today. Tartaglia slowly kneeled down to meet her at eye level.

“Dendro Archon, we do not mean any harm. I-“
Her light giggles made him halt in his tracks. “I know silly, don’t worry. And my shield is very effective, let’s not use these bothersome titles right now.”
Oh. Well then. “Yes, Nahida.”
She then floated into her green flower swing, still grinning.
“Your superiors already explained everything. You can rest here and stock up on supplies, I don’t want t hinder trade between the Fatui and my people. Economy is a vital part in the welfare of people after all.”

He blinked at her.

“What does interest me, is the very, very thinly veiled threat I received from the leader of the Harbingers. He does have a…soft spot for you, doesn’t he?”
Her eyes had a very bright twinkle in them. She knew something was up. And if she knew or at least suspected, then they could give all hope of concealing their relations from the Tsaritsa up. He rubbed his temples.

“But is he trustworthy, Childe?” Her tone was calculating. Still, he nodded.
“I know how he seems but he keeps his word.”
Oh yes, he does.
“He is from Kaenri’ah and as such has a strong dislike against most Archons.”

She nodded. “I am aware of that at least, yes. Nobody knows then?”
Tartaglia shook his head. “We want to keep it secret for now.”
Nahida raised an eyebrow. “If it is real, you wont be able to keep it secret under the Archon of Love.”
“We’re aware of that, thank you. It was supposed to be only physical at first. Blowing of some steam, you know? I don’t know how it happened.”

He let his gaze wander to the window where a lot of eyes watched them. Watching him like hawks. With a sigh he straightened his shoulders again.
“Besides, let’s be honest. Him and I are Harbingers. We won’t survive this ordeal and it is lonely of sorts. We have a purpose - a glorious one, but the price will be high. And Lord Pierro endured enough loneliness for one lifetime.”

Shrugging he averted his gaze from the many eyes.
“If we are going to die anyway, might as well live a decent life before destined death.”
“You believe your death to be set in stone?”, was her curious answer and he turned his gaze to her again.
“I was a child when I mutated in the Abyss. At this point I am probably fated to fight that damned whale for as long as I live. And the Director practically only lives to see Celestia fall.”

She hummed, deep in thoughts. “Quite the pair you make there. The Tsaritsa will use it to her advantage.”
“Of course she will. But her advantage is our advantage. Besides I am not cursed with immortality or something like that. As far a I know. We have only one chance to bring them down to their knees and can’t start over. 500 years the Fatui endured. What is 100 or 200 more? To make sure that everything runs smoothly? Maybe I will see the outcome, maybe not.”

“A very pragmatic way for life.”, said Nahida. “In the oldest sense it would be a marriage of convenience? Of sorts at least?”
Marriage?! Whoa there, hold up.
“…no, not directly and for now nobody is thinking about- about MARRIAGE for Archon’s sake. Ah, sorry about that, no offence. We don’t…talk about it like that. It’s still early. We just- it was-“
The words were somehow missing.

“It was convenient. For both of you.”, she said, grinning and Tartaglia gave up.
“Alright, fine, it was. Happy now?”
Nahida cocked her head sideways.
“Definitely amused. I’ll let you go back now. And here some salve for that nasty bruise on your arm.”

“Thank you, Nahida.”
With one last graceful nod to him she left in the direction of the academy and he became aware of the silver-haired man that stepped from the shadows to talk to her. His green eyes pinned Tartaglia in place and he knew without ever having seen this man, that this was the archivar, the acting grand sage for now. Al-Haitham. There was no other possibility by that disdainful look he got. Was probably making sure he didn’t hurt their Archon.

He sighed and rubbed his face as he walked back into the tavern, where total silence greeted him. He looked to Pierro, then Capitano. Then their soldiers.
“I am fine.”, he said. “She gave me salve for my arm and we talked about staying here until we can keep travelling. She did ask, if you are trustworthy, my lord Pierro.”
“And what did you answer, Eleventh?”
“That while you are grumpy-looking, you’re still a man of your word and honour. I must admit, I met the Dendro Archon once before in the company of the traveller. She is different from the other Archons, my lord.”

The room was dead silent after his comment and Pierro hummed. Capitano however shook his head. “You keep interesting company, Childe.”
And after a few very long seconds he got a nod from Pierro.

“Fine, Tartaglia. Now get over here and let me look at your arm.”
The Director then put one of the bar stools in front of him, pointing at it.
“If an Archon can sense the injury, then I need to take a look at it since I am the one responsible for this.”

His hesitation was written all across his face but he complied, walking stiffly over to the older man. He let himself plop down onto the stool which stood right between Pierro’s legs what a coincidence…and handed the salve over. As he unbuttoned his shirt, he heard some gasps when the bandages still covering his chest came to show.
Then he got out of the sleeves and oh yes, the dark bluish handprint around his upper arm was a stark contrast against his skin next to the bruises that were fading.

“I did not realise with how much strength I held onto you, Eleventh.”
His tone was very, very neutral and despite the careful touches he couldn’t hold back the violent tremor of his muscles as the older man applied the salve.
“In your defence my Lord, I would’ve been blown away otherwise.”, he got out between his gritted teeth.

“Breathe, Tartaglia.”
He did so, still not looking at the other man, even when hands wandered over his side and torso to check on his other bandages.
“Breathe, Tartaglia.”
Breathe, boy, whispered Pierro’s husky voice in his mind. Archon’s, his head was spinning and it apparently got obvious.

“Here, lets get you into bed.”, was said against his ear, as the older man helped him getting his shirt back on, stabilising him while they stood up.

“Yes. It is best if I take my leave for now.”, was his reply and he looked at his little group of six agents. “At ease, you can stay and relax some more but I need a bed. Archons, this healing progress takes longer than I like.”

“Rest, Eleventh. I will send one of your agents come morning up with some breakfast for you.”
“No. My lord, I need to move at least a little, otherwise I wont get better. For breakfast I’ll come down and then rest the remaining day in bed.”
Pierro’s eyelid twitched.
“Fine. Since we will stay here at least for two days, I expect you to stay true to your words. If you fail to do so, I’ll chain you to the bed myself.” Folding his arms, the other shook his head.
“Should have done so already in Mondstadt. Understood?”

There weren’t even two centimetres of space between them.
“Understood.”, he answered hoarsely. He stumbled as he turned but Ekaterina was very fast at his side, supporting him. They wobbled upstairs like this and when they reached his chamber he told her to go back down.

“I’ll be fine, Ekaterina.”
She stayed, hesitation written all over her face.
“Lord Tartaglia - “, she finally started. “You know we have faith in you and your abilities but…did the Lord Jester ever do something he shouldn’t do…as the leader of all Harbingers?”

Two seconds later, the question really settled in his mind. His pain-riddled brain on the other hand could only laugh which he did, nearly folding on the bed in the process.
“Oh - oh Archons! Eka-Ekaterina no!”
Trying to calm himself he breathed deeply in. There were two options now, either lying or taking a tiny itsy-bitty small-big risk.
“While I was careful in the first few days in Mondstadt, the director and I got along quite well along. Surprisingly.”

He finally let himself fall back against the bed, the softness of the pillow, the warmth of the blanket.
“It was nice. He even protected me against the Dark Night Hero. A strong pyro vision user. And we had a few meals together-“

He got hand fed the best delicacy’s the hotel could offer on the mages lap. Hand. Fed.
They had fucked afterwards.

“-but he is the director and I think he just doesn’t want to loose another Harbinger so soon and is simply taking extra care of me.”
Alright, he sounded a tiny bit sad at that, startling at the touch of a warm hand against his own.
“I think, the director is protecting you more than you think, my lord.”, she said carefully. Her smile tentatively and relieved.

“When you’re getting clearer in the head again, tomorrow morning I’ll hope you forgive me for the transgression in your personal matters, my lord.”, she said softly, as she pulled the shoes of his feet to get him comfortable on the bed.
Sleep took him quickly, also thanks to the salve and whatever herbs were in it.

And down below, Ekaterina was looking meaningful at her five colleagues under the Eleventh but quickly realised she wasn’t as subtle as she believed when a question which sounded like a threat rung through the air.

“I hope, everything is alright upstairs?”

The director of the Fatui Harbingers watched her like a hawk, tense and tightly wound with an unsettling eery small smile on his face. For one moment, one second they were all able to get a glimpse at what lurked beneath the usual calm facade.
Then it was gone, blinked away so fast she thought herself to have imagined it.
But the room was as silent as the darkest nights in Shneznaya and she knew she hadn’t.
Her mouth was dry from fear.

“His Lordship Tartaglia fell asleep very, very quickly. Not much longer and he would have fainted.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“He has no fever. Probably just the strain of travelling and healing.”

And just like that the atmosphere slowly got friendlier, the air breathable again. Lord Pierro’s shoulders relaxed and in the corner of her eye she saw the Captain take a seat again.
“Good,”, was all the answer she got and everybody took hearty sips of beer and other alcohol. This travel was strange, full of tension and secrets and they wondered when the next bomb would blow up.

 

\\

 

The bomb blew up exactly eight days later.
Tartaglia felt a lot better after three days rigorous rest. Everything seemed well, they were rested, marching again at a good pace through the desert towards Natlan’s border. His comrades were almost normal again and he sometimes wondered how, why and when.
On the other hand it was often wiser to let sleeping dogs sleep.

He knew from Ekaterina that by now everybody had noticed the director’s change of behaviour towards him and though the rumours calmed down every interaction was side eyed. While it was Pierro who told him they needed to keep a low profile, it was also him who had a harder time composing itself.

Then came day eight of travelling when they passed a caravan of eremites, one of the few tribes living on the very outskirts of the desert, where wind and sun were harsh enough to kill even seasoned warriors and adventurers.
Unease was already in the air but got a little lighter as the Jester and Capitano nodded in greeting at the chief of the tribe who sat in front of a tent with his (probably) group of the best warriors.

“So the foreign chiefs do have playthings of their own…taste can vary but even I can see the beauty of red hair.”
Whilst most of the people gave a forced laugh, both Fatui and Emerites, Capitano next to him tensed. Then Pierro shielded him again from further looks. Tartaglia couldn’t see the facial expression on the older man’s face but the way he was herded away and the chief emerite tensing gave his stomach an uneasy feeling.

Suddenly a slapping sound echoed through the sands and it got quiet very abruptly.
“He is young, hot blooded, doesn’t know much yet.”, said the chief in an assertive voice with an undertone of unease in it.
“Chief-“, started another one, then stopped when the hand of a woman landed on his shoulders. She said something harshly in another language.

“We meant no harm, ancient one. I will personally deal with the boy. Please, leave now.”

Now that sounded interesting and like the old mage was travelling more around Teyvat than he thought, if a desert tribe knew him and knew to stay clear of him. Which led to him realising something…the other hadn’t moved an inch. It was Liyue all over again, the nearest hint of a threat, a whisp of danger and Pierro was an inch from killing.

“My lord Pierro,”, he started, hoping to sound nonchalant and reassuring. “How could they know I’m a Harbinger next to you or Capitano. I look too young and thin in some clothes. People who don’t know us are easily fooled.”

Usually he was the one who needed the damage control not the one doing it. But things were different now and sure to change in the future and even in Shneznaya. There was no response this time, the older man’s gaze stayed locked on the warrior.
“Please, he couldn’t kill me, even if he gave his all and you know that, my lord Pierro. You know that.”

The tribes priestess looked at him very strangely. And knowing.
Finally his head turned so he could see the half-mask.
“If you were not injured and in recovery, then it would be true Eleventh.”, was the rough reply and that, again, really rubbed him in the wrong way. He looked around Pierro’s hulking figure, nodding at the chief and the priestess.

“We shall take our leave now, save travels.”
Grabbing onto the mage’s arm and leaned his whole weight on it, he tried to hiss as silent and subtlety in the other’s ear. “Low profile! Please! What are you doing?”
Maybe it was his weight, his pleading, whatever, but the older man actually started to move with him. It was great until the mage turned his head almost 180 degrees like a stupid owl.

“Tanuk.”, he started and then talked so fast in the language of the desert people none of them could understand a thing but the chief and his priestess nodded. He didn’t care, all he wanted was to get the other somewhere quiet.
“Get a grip on yourself, my Lord!”, he groused loud enough for the agents to hear and even Capitano turned his head.

“Teyvat is testing my patience lately, Eleventh. Seems I buried the losses of my past not as deep enough in my mind as I thought.”
It gave Tartaglia a quick pause but he still pushed.
“Now is not the time to loose your marbles, my lord! Capitano is not stupid. Your’s, Capitano’s and my agent’s also aren’t!
Abruptly, the kaen’riahn mage straightened himself again, head high, face carefully blank.
“I am well aware of that. It won’t happen again.”

 

\\

 

After that they wandered mile after mile in half silence, only the most necessary words were spoken among them, though most of the time the tone was cordial. The stunt of downright pulling on Lord Pierro’s arm had put him at the centre of attention and Tartaglia took care to walk next to Ekaterina and his agents. While no one said a thing - not even Capitano who kept his cards close to his chest - it was now crystal clear something had happened between the leader of the Harbingers and the Eleventh Harbinger. Something important enough that the director himself, strongest in the hierarchy after her majesty, the Tsaritsa, was now protecting him, even listening to him.

It was as strange as it was scary because it gave Tartaglia more power than he yet understood. No one said a thing. So far.

When they finally stopped at the very border of Natlan to set up camp for the night, they were all done for the day and fuck him sideways, he was the youngest but his hands were shaking badly while he set up his tent.
Soon the fires were burning with boiling pots of water and stew on them. Bread was shared and Ekaterina brought him a bowl of soup and a cup of tea. He had looked at her with nearly tears in his eyes but she only blinked at him, nodding and headed to get some soup for herself.

Warm food and drinks always helped in dissolving tension and soon conversation was flowing easily again between them all. It was when everyone talked, with everyone distracted, that Capitano made his way over to him.

“Eleventh.”, he greeted friendly.
“Capitano.”, replied Childe back, trying to keep a poker face.
They sat next to each other, watching their troops. Alexeij, Pierro’s second in command was talking very animated at said man, hand gesturing wildly.

“Now that Pierro is distracted…what happened between you and him to make him kill for you?”
And just like that, Childe’s heart started to race a little too fast.
“Maybe he doesn’t want to loose another Harbinger, Sir.”

“Maybe.”, agreed Capitano. “Maybe that would be enough of an explanation for stupid people and fools. Do you think me stupid, Tartaglia? Am I a fool?”
“No, Capitano.”, he answered, his tone a touch too even.

“Pierro and I have known each other for over 500 years. Do you think we don’t talk?”
“No Capitano, I do not.”
“Hm. Is he threatening you?”

Now that had his head snapping to the right, cheeks reddening and looking into the black void. “Of course not!”
“So it is protectiveness…of sorts.”
Capitano finally relaxed a little, elbows resting on his knees.
“Then it is clear to me that for whatever reason, the professional relationship between the two of you changed. You got closer. Why? Against what or who?”

Alright, time to improvise.

“Mondstadt’s knightly hero tried to kidnap me a few times. He protected me.”
“And you expect me to believe it’s only that, boy?”, was said in the most condescending tone he had ever heard of the man.
“Come on, Eleventh. We are getting closer to the truth.”

Tartaglia gave up and snorted. Yeah no. He wasn’t winning this.
“Then tell me, Capitano. Can you and Pierro call yourselves friends?”
Silence. “I’d like to think yes. Why?”
“Because the Fatui and it’s cause are above all else for Lord Pierro. And for me too. If you want reasons, please ask him to explain. And if he wants to, I’ll gladly be present for it.”
The silence stretched between them but in the end he finally got an understanding nod, as well as a careful pat to his shoulder.

“It can’t be that bad then. I am relieved.”
With that Capitano stood finally up. “I will ask Pierro then. Tough it is unusual for you to not talk with me.”
At that the redhead heaved a sigh so deep some heads turned. Including Pierro’s whose gaze narrowed as he realised Capitano sat next to him.

 

Later in the night when everybody was fast asleep except for a few unlucky ones on guard duty, a hand placed itself on Tartaglia’s mouth and he woke up with a racing heart.
Which then calmed quite quickly, as he recognised the figure above him.
Pierro helped him up silently and kept a hand on his back while guiding them out of the camp into the trail leading back into Sumeru’s desert. His questioning looks were ignored and it became clear why.

Capitano stood there, waiting in all his rigid glory, half-hidden behind one of the trail’s curves.
“Now that we are here,”, he started. “Please do tell me what I missed, Pierro and why our youngest plays such an essential role it”
Suddenly he was starting to sweat again. Fantastic.
“It seems, I finally lost some of my senses, old friend. All I ask of you, is to not judge too harshly. Everything that happened was consensual.”, explained Pierro in a unusually gingerly voice.

“Consensual…what do you mean by consensual?”, was the alarmed answer and Tartaglia could practically see the man’s thoughts race behind the helmet. Well then, here goes nothing. Slowly he walked back to Pierro’s side, close enough their arms were touching.

“Things did change in Mondstadt between us, true. I never expected the development myself, Thrain.”
Suddenly his hand was touched and they intertwined their fingers, holding hands in front of Capitano. The helmet skewed abruptly to the left.
The use of Capitano’s name gave Childe nearly a heart attack and he strengthened his grip on the mage’s hand.

“…please tell me you are joking, Pierro.”, he finally said emotionlessly. Apparently it was an unknown sign to the older man, who quickly pushed Tartaglia behind himself as if to shield him.
Capitano gave a barking laugh. It wasn’t a friendly sound.

“Oh no, I am not angry at the Eleventh. I am angry at you, you imbecile!”
Wait, what? Then Capitano took a deep breath and started to rant loudly, almost screaming at the mage.

“Have you lost your goddamn mind, because yes as your oldest friend I will help you find it again! He is the Eleventh Harbinger! Do you have no respect left for your comrades, you pathetic excuse for a man!? We survived and worked for more than 500 years, you never took unnecessary playthings, never mingled, never hurt anybody more than you had to. Have you finally lost sense? Became too ruthless, thinking nothing else matters? Take a whore for a fuck but not a Harbinger! Especially not the one who, out of all of us, still has a bleeding heart! He is…not a child anymore, I admit but still young! You foolish, ancient idiot!”

Capitano’s fists were balled.
“Do you need some sense knocked back into that brilliant brain of yours? Don’t worry. I am a loyal friend.”
And before Tartaglia could react, the strongest human alive, the sentinel knight Thrain, the first Harbinger of her Majesty the Tsaritsa, have the strongest uppercut he had ever seen. It landed perfectly where it should and the director took the hit. Had it been anyone else, that person would be dead. The canyon filled with silence again as the mage stumbled down to one knee and oh shit, he finally broke free of his stupor.

“No, wait! Capitano wait!”, he screamed hoarsely, stepping in front of Pierro, arms outstretched. “It’s not like that, I mean at first it was but from my side too! It unfortunately changed! Let me, let us explain! He-“
Was interrupted by a tooth that got spit out into the sand and they both looked down at the leader of the Harbingers.

Pierro looked up at Capitano, the iris of his remaining eye expanded until it was nearly all black. Then, there was a nasty plop, as he rightened his jaw back with one hand and the blackness receded back until it was the normal star shape again…that was…horrifying.
“He is no plaything, Thrain. And that is even worse. Every time he is close to fighting nowadays, I wish to kill whatever threatens him.”

The noise Capitano made was one of pure confusion.
“He is no plaything and perhaps I finally lost some sanity. After 500 years of fighting, of blood and tears, can you really blame me?”
Nothing was said while Pierro slowly got up again and even accepted Tartaglia’s help and grip on his arm. In front of Capitano.

“Oh my stars. You are actually serious?” It was almost painful to hear the disbelief.
“Yes.”
“And it is mutual?”
“Yes.”
The helmet jerked to him and Ajax nodded.
“Yes.”, he whispered, staring into the black void that was Il Capitano’s face, trying to convey his truth.

Again silence. Then the large man let out the deepest and longest sigh they had ever heard of him, shoulders dropping. The knight shook is head.
“Alright, you fools. I’ll let it go for now. Harbingers rarely get happiness and definitely no happy ending. But if it helps you to see this through, then I will accept it. For now.”
Tsaritsa’s sake, he was about to cry.

“However. I strongly advise against making that public. And you will talk to he majesty about it and if - if! - she deems it true…then gods be gracious, we’re gonna have to increase the security around our youngest or the mage will go on a rampage if you die. Even an Archon would regret it.”

Pierro’s responding groan showed every single one of his 500-something years.

“Don’t make it too obvious around the other Harbingers. While we all have more than enough respect and fear of you and you abilities, they still think of Tartaglia as the scrawny kid, Pierro. With the exception of Arlecchino, they all last saw him before his departure to Liyue. They still see the youth, not the man he is now. It’s been almost 5 years for them.”

Ah right, that was true. It’s been years since he last saw the other Harbingers and while he exchanged letters with Pulcinella, the old elf had a lot on his plate recently.
“For now, it’s absolutely better, if no one knows about us, yes.”, grumbled the mage, rubbing his head.

“But we weren’t able to hide it from the Dendro Archon. Not truly, at least.”
At that Pierro’s head snapped back to him. “She knew?”
“She knew.”
Capitano chuckled.
“You can’t protect the Eleventh too much, old friend. It would raise questions and questions of your morale if you give him too much attention out of nothing in the public. Which you already did a little.”
“I am aware of that, yes.”
“Good. If you want to succeed in others accepting that, it will have to be…slow. Make them believe they are witnessing it evolve firsthand. An act of sorts and you’ll need the support of her majesty. The aristocrats and papers would rip you apart and then there would be no other choice than to lead with a certain amount of terror. You know what I mean.”

“Duly noted.”, came Pierro’s reply.
“Thank you, Capitano.”, he also said, a little shaken.

“One more thing. Let him rest, you old dog. He needs to sleep and that without dreams. He needs to recover properly without pulling himself muscles again.”
“You may be my oldest friend but if you say one more word, I will punch back.”
“Duly noted.”

It was the strangest interaction Tartaglia’s had ever heard and seen between them. The familiarity in their voices, the violence. Yet the talk could have gone far, far worse. Maybe it was going to be alright.
For once.