Chapter Text
The Sealed-Off Archive in Zapolyarny Palace felt exactly how it was designed. Ironclad, cold, still - a space to be forgotten until someone decided the lock should come off. Beyond the inner doors, Hroptatyr’s book - once having held forbidden knowledge - waited under a seal that required every remaining Harbinger’s vote to release.
Lumine and Paimon were already there when the outer doors opened. Childe stepped through first, uniform still dusted with Snezhnograd’s frost, red scarf loose at his throat. He stopped two paces in and tipped his head, scanning the empty hall then eyes finding the Traveler like he expected to find a different meeting entirely.
“Hmm…? Am I in the wrong place? I could have sworn this is where Pierro said we were meeting…”
Paimon floated closer immediately, both hands waving. “No, no, you’re right! Pierro asked us to come too. He said we can be here as witnesses.”
Childe’s posture eased. A familiar, unmasked smile crept onto his face, one he only wore in private exchanges with his two comrades.
“Aha~ No wonder.” He looked past Paimon toward Lumine, expression warming in a way reserved for her that would have been obvious to anyone who had eyes. “Heh, for a moment there, I almost thought Lord Pierro had managed to recruit you as a Harbinger.”
He stepped closer, voice dropping into that lazy, playful register that seemed to always surface in moments like these.
“What do you think? Fancy a shot at becoming ‘The Traveler, Twelfth of the Fatui Harbingers’?”
Lumine shot him a glance, arms crossed at her chest.
“Hah, not a chance.” She dismissed, chin turned up. “You lost the right to rank ahead of me all the way back at the Golden House.”
Childe leaned forward like he didn’t expect that response. A hand to his chest like the words had actually landed. “Ouch…” The sound was bright, delighted, completely unbothered. “Alright, if you wanna go there, let’s go there… We are definitely overdue a rematch! I’ll have you know that while you’ve been off traveling the world, I’ve been working relentlessly hard to get stronger!”
His eyes lit up the way they always did when the topic of fighting entered the room.
“If you think my travels have been one long vacation, you’re in for a surprise…” Lumine’s mouth curved, small and sharp. She let the silence sit long enough for his grin to grow wider. Her voice shifted into something deceitfully sweet. “If you ask nicely, I’ll spare you two or three elements.”
Paimon hovered at Lumine’s shoulder, eager to join the playful feud with a jab of her own. “Watch out, ‘Councilor Tartaglia’… If you lose again this time, Paimon’s gonna laugh at you sooo hard.”
Childe laughed under his breath. “Ask nicely, huh? Noted. I would never ask the great Fourth Descender to hold back.”
She shoved his chest lightly - enough that he rocked back a step with a beaming grin like she’d already given him a taste of combat.
Other footsteps would join soon. Pulcinella. Pantalone and Sandrone. The others. The hall began to fill with titles, thinning tension and a vote that had nothing to do with either of them standing here like this.
He stepped to the side of the room, away from the center aisle, into the dim light. Lumine followed without being asked. Paimon drifted after them, still smug.
When they were far enough that the other harbingers wouldn’t catch every word, Childe leaned a shoulder against the tile and tipped his head toward her. A decision that their banter was a fight that had yet to be won.
“Let’s not forget that I’m a ‘Master of Weaponry.’” His eyes flicked once to the others, then back to her, quieter. “If you ask nicely, I’ll lay down some of the weapons in my arsenal.”
Despite their comradery turned toward something more intimate, there would always be an element of the Eleventh’s competitiveness that would creep its way into their relationship.
Lumine’s brow lifted. “Some.”
“I’m generous, not stupid.” He shifted just enough that the back of his glove brushed her sleeve. Anyone watching from afar would have seen two colleagues waiting. Anyone standing this close would have seen the way he didn’t move away. “Not here though, I’m on the clock. And I’d prefer a battle ground with a little more room.”
“Coward,” she said, fond.
“Careful. You know how much I love fighting talk.” His smile deepened into something subtler. More real. “Later… You and me? The Veche keeps me away from good spars and I’ve missed the way you push me to go all-out. Paimon can come too and eat her words when you’re the first to yield.”
“Hey!” Paimon protested, but she kept her voice down. Even she could feel the room listening.
Lumine rolled her eyes then glanced toward the group, but her cheeks warmed at the sentiment. “Thought you were holding back a weapon or two. What happened to ‘generous’?”
“You probably have something new up your sleeve I didn’t get to see in our last bout. And I could use the exercise.” Instinctively, he rolled a shoulder in anticipation.
A brief pause as the door opened, revealing the final arrival. Both Childe and Paimon straightened as Pierro approached. Lumine took the final moments before they began and turned to him.
“I missed you,” she said, simple and low so only he could hear. “I also beat you last time. Both can be true.”
Childe’s laugh this time was almost silent. He looked at her like she was a fight he wanted to lose just to see how she would best him.
“After this,” he murmured behind her, both faced towards Pierro entering the hall. “There’s a courtyard above the armory that nobody uses after midnight. You can decide how many elements you feel like using, but you know I’ll want them all.”
Lumine leaned back into his chest for half a second. That was all the room would get.
“Don’t make me wait too long, Councilor.”
Childe cleared his throat - now the Eleventh Harbinger again. The man who was devoted to duty when asked and would fight the world if the Tsaritsa pointed. The man who had just promised her a rematch he had no intention of winning cleanly. And that was the best part.
He spoke without looking at her, lips barely moving.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, comrade.”