Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The news that changed Childe’s life came in the middle of a snowstorm. Not that this was unusual in any way; Snezhnaya was always snowy. But this storm was especially bad, for it blew down from the great mountains and whipped through the trees with a fury rivaling that of the archons. With every powerful gust, the trees thrashed about, threatening to collapse. 

The houses, built to withstand extreme weather, groaned against the heavy burden of standing upright against the storm. And within the houses huddled the Snezhnayan people who squeezed their eyes tight in solemn prayer that they lived through the night.

That was to say, not the kind of weather for a letter to come in.

Childe knew something was wrong when he heard the knock at the door. Who in their right mind would be out traversing the severe cold during the worst blizzard in recent memory?

Childe’s mother was the first to the door, ever the dutiful hostess despite not having been expecting guests. She opened the door, letting the visitor in along with about a pound of snow. Getting the door open had been easy, but it took the efforts of her and Teucer to wrestle the door shut against the violent winds.

Looking up from his book, Childe was surprised to see a member of the Fatui standing in the middle of his living room, bundled up so well that only his eyes were visible from beneath layers of cloth.

“Master Tartaglia, I have an urgent message from Her Excellency, the Tsaritsa,” spoke the man. Though his words were muffled by the wrappings over his mouth, Childe was able to understand enough for the words to cut deep beneath his skin and rattle his very bones. He was up and out of his chair in a matter of seconds, coming to stand in front of the messenger. 

“Well?” he asked, his heart pumping boldly. For the Tsaritsa to send him a message through the terrible storm was evidence enough that she needed him urgently. He fought back the urge to smile as the messenger produced an envelope from between his many layers. His Archon needed him again. He would get to serve her again. For a soldier, there was no greater delight.

Like a child on Christmas Eve, he gleefully wondered what new and exciting thing was in store for him beneath the careful embrace of the envelope. Perhaps she’d have him captain a raid against nearby enemies, or maybe he would get to challenge a great beast from a forgotten era. He could also traverse the seas, looking for secrets and treasure--he’d been looking for an excuse to beat his last record for the largest fish he could pull from the sea.

“What’s that, Big Brother?” Teucer asked, craning his neck up to try to catch a glimpse at the envelope.

“Toy business,” Childe replied offhandedly, his eyes fixed on the envelope in his hand. He ripped off the top with ease, pulling out his prize--the letter--from within its shell.

Tartaglia.

You are a most excellent soldier, and have done your country proud. The time has come for you to do that which only you are capable of. Go to Liyue and marry the God of Contracts. There you shall stay there with him for the remainder of your mortal life. So I have commanded.

This will be your final mission.

Farewell, and good luck.

Childe’s veins suddenly ran cold, as if the ice and snow from outside had somehow seeped into his body. His breath stilled within his lungs as if he’d forgotten to breathe, and for a moment, all he could hear was the blowing winds outside. The letter, which Childe had once gripped so tightly from fear that it would somehow fly away, fell to the ground.

As a Harbinger, Childe always had to be putting on some kind of show for those around him. He had to, lest he allow the less-than-savory bits of himself to slip out from tiny fractures and tarnish the Tsaritsa’s reputation. Therefore, it was natural for him to be aware of his facial expressions at every moment of the day. His smiles were a well-practiced art, one that he could pull over dark emotions like a rug over broken glass.

Yet, this time his lips refused to turn up, refused to bow to the will of his head. Instead, his heart, once so full, had begun its best attempt at tearing him up from the inside. And his face showed every bit of the pain he felt.

“My!” his mother exclaimed behind him, having retrieved the letter from the ground. “Ajax is getting married!”

“What?!” Tonia exclaimed from the other room, rushing in with such speed that she nearly slipped on the puddles of now melted snow. “Brother is getting married?! To who?!”

Beside his mother, Teucer had already begun pouting, “No! Big brother can’t get married!”

“Now now, Teucer,” his mother soother, patting her younger son’s head, “It is the will of our dear Tsaritsa. We should be happy for your brother.”

Happy? How was anyone supposed to be happy when he’d just been hit with the news that he was being dismissed? Even worse, being wed to some god that he knew nothing about in a land he’d only ever heard about in passing. This had to be a mistake. Somewhere, somehow, an error had been made. Perhaps his archon had misaddressed the letter, or perhaps the seal on the envelope had been forged. He didn’t exactly know what had gone wrong, but surely something had. It had to. Because if not…

If not, she’s serious about throwing me away.

He pushed away the thought violently, disgusted that the words had even occurred to him. How pathetic was he to allow a single piece of paper to shake his faith so effectively? No, there had to be another explanation somewhere. He just had to find it.

By this time, Childe’s entire family had emerged from their various corners of the house to huddle around the letter. It was, after all, quite the rare honor to see (let alone touch) something that had come from the Tsaritsa herself.

Realizing that this was the perfect time to act, Childe grabbed his thickest coat from the closet and ran out of the front door without a second thought. The wind rushed into the home immediately, biting at the few patches of skin that Childe hadn’t managed to cover with hats and scarves. Behind him, his family called his name, most likely telling him to come back inside lest he freeze to death. He paid them no mind. Instead, he yanked the door shut with all his might and set off at full speed in the direction of the Capital. He’d need to get a good head start before his family attempted to go out and drag him back to the house.

The Harbinger had far too many questions, and not nearly enough answers. So he did the only thing he could do: he began his trek out to Zapolyarny Palace, assuring himself that there had to be a mistake with every step he took.

Going to the palace in the middle of the worst storm of the season had been a stupid, albeit unavoidable decision. In truth, Childe didn’t remember the majority of his trip to the Tsaritsa’s residence save for the numbing cold and his sheer will to put one foot in front of the other. Childe owed his survival entirely to the warming bottles he always kept in his jacket pocket for emergencies like this. Without them, he would no doubt join the many frozen corpses piled up in Dottore’s laboratory--valuable research cadavers for him to better serve the Tsaritsa. Dottore always had a constant supply of them, and Childe was not interested in joining their ranks.

Childe got into the palace with ease--there were many perks to being a Harbinger after all--and immediately set his sights on the throne room. His legs felt heavy as his body did its best to restore circulation to his frosted extremities, though Childe paid them no mind.

None of the many attendants and Fatui groundsmen so much as batted an eyelash at his presence through the palace. Good, he thought as his feet practically moved on their own, taking him to the heart of the palace that he’d been to thousands of times already.

Stopping in front of the doors to the throne room, Childe stared down the two men standing guard with a look so hard it could shatter bone. They were both easily twice his height and three times his weight, but they all knew that Childe could take them both down in under a minute if he chose to. And he wouldn’t hesitate to do so if they got in his way.

Perhaps sensing his short patience, the two men stood back and opened the grand double doors for Childe to step through. Smart choice. Out of every room in the great Zapolyarny Palace, the throne room was by far the grandest and most awe-inducing. It was a wide and open space, fit to host a party should there ever come a time when one was needed. The floor was a deep black marble that was so clean it reflected everything off of it like a mirror. The sides of the room were illuminated by sconces, each with candles that burned during all hours of the day. Three enormous chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting light upon the areas that mere sconces could never hope to reach. 

The wall on the opposite side of the room was entirely made up of windows which stretched from the marble floor all the way up to the ceiling. Childe could see the blizzard outside, still hurtling snow at blistering speeds as it had been since the day before. It was still midday, so sunlight (albeit muted by the snow clouds) filtered in through the large windows.

But the centerpiece of the entire room was of course the throne itself. It sat atop a tall staircase with 77 steps (Childe had counted once), placing a physical barrier between that of god and subject. Childe could not see the throne from here, however, for the light blue curtains which the Tsaritsa kept drawn at all times hid her and the throne from view. The light from the windows backlit the figure on the throne, allowing Childe to just barely make out her silhouette.

In the center of the floor stood Signora, clearly in the middle of some kind of audience with the Tsaritsa. The blonde woman whipped her head around, likely wishing to identify whoever was foolish enough to interrupt her. Her icy blue eyes, once wide with surprise, settled into a knowing look of arrogant content. “Ah, so nice of you to join us.”

The smile Childe forced onto his face felt unnatural, but he hid his annoyance behind it nonetheless. “Signora,” he greeted, “So sorry to interrupt your little chat.”

“I wouldn’t call the state of Delusion production a ‘little chat’, but no matter. What could possibly possess you to barge into an important meeting with Her Grace unannounced?” Signora phrased it like a question, but from her tone, he could tell that she already knew. She was insufferable that way.

Instead of indulging Signora with more of their game of back and forth, Childe decided to focus on the reason he’d braved a storm in the first place.

Childe took confident strides into the center of the room, bowing respectfully before his Archon after coming to a stop. “Dear Tsaritsa, I am certain you know why I have come to see you.”

There was a moment where no one dared speak a word. The only sound that could be heard was the howling wind that licked at the large windows, begging to be let in. The Tsaritsa did not speak directly to her subjects very often, for the very sound of her voice could shake the will of man if left unchecked. Instead, she always appointed one of her trusted subordinates with the task of relaying her message. Oftentimes, that distinct honor was awarded to Signora, though this time, she was proven unnecessary.

“Come, Tartaglia,” the Tsaritsa spoke. Her voice was soft and clear, yet it did not fail to shake the walls of the palace, for it was imbued with so much energy that the palace had no choice but to bow in reverence.

Childe only faltered for a moment before swiftly moving to the bottom of the grand staircase, where he stooped into a kneel.

“Closer,” said the Tsaritsa.

Closer? Childe hadn’t been that close to his Archon since she’d given him his new name. But, loyal as ever, Childe obeyed, taking the steps two at a time until he was in front of the curtain.

“Speak.”

“I...The mission. Surely, there must be someone else more fit for the job. Especially if it is as important as you have led me to believe.”

“There is no mistake. This mission is yours and yours alone because that is how it is meant to be. Nothing more.”

“But--”

“This is the price I had agreed to. It is a contract of the utmost importance that only you can uphold. Without your cooperation, I shall surely face the Wrath of the Rock.”

Wrath of the rock? Childe had never heard of such a thing, but it certainly didn’t sound good.

“I am entrusting this most crucial mission to you, Tartaglia. For I have faith that you will complete it perfectly. Marry Rex Lapis and be prosperous.”

“But--”

“That is all.”

“Wait! Tell me more!” he begged, desperate for mercy, “It can’t be me! I’m not cut out for this kind of mission. Ask anyone in the Fatui and they’ll say the same thing. Anything else. Name it and I’ll do it without so much as a sigh. I swear on it.”

And he meant every word. He was a loyal soldier through and through, a tool to be used by her for whatever she so desired. 

He knew that his hurt was evident on every inch of his face, yet the Tsaritsa did not say a single word. Instead, her silhouetted figure merely pointed back towards the door he’d come in--a silent and final dismissal. A last command. 

She said nothing more. Not when Signora dragged him back down the stairs. Not when he was being pulled towards the doors. Not when he cast one last look at her before the doors shut between them.

“Your boat leaves tomorrow,” Signora said, taking a bag from one of the attendants in the hall and giving it to Childe, “Everything has already been arranged for your trip to Liyue. I suggest you say your goodbyes tonight; you don’t know when you’ll be able to return here.”

“You knew?” Childe asked her, his voice small and shaken from the shock of being so completely denied by his Archon.

“Yes.” She turned and began walking down the hall, but stopped halfway. She turned her head to the side, not quite looking at Childe, but allowing him to hear her last words, “Word of advice? Make the best of what the Tsaritsa is giving you. Many would kill to marry the God of Contracts. There are far worse fates out there.”

Left alone save for the bag Signora gave him, Childe waited for the room to stop spinning. If he was going to make it through this mission sane, he would simply need to stow his heart away and allow his brain to take over. His heart was useless right now, for it kept aching at the thought that his beloved Archon had thrown him away to some god he had no allegiance to. His brain reminded him that he was a soldier--who was he to defy a direct command from the Archon he’d sworn to serve? Internal turmoil or not, his body had no choice but to serve. He knew what he needed to do.

So Tartaglia, Eleventh of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, turned from his Archon and began his march towards his final mission.

Childe had about 5 seconds to wrestle the door of his family home shut before said family surrounded him on all sides.

“You’re back!” “Congrats on the big news, brother!” “Did you bring me anything from the Capital?” “I can’t believe you kept this secret from us for so long!” “Did you see The Tsaritsa?” “Guess what?!” “Who’s this Geo Archon?” “Mother has a surprise for you!” “Can I have your room when you go?” “Shh! Teucer, now is not the time.” “What did The Tsaritsa say? “When do you leave?” “Where is Liyue anyway?” “Are you hungry? I hope you’re hungry.”

“Guys!” Childe exclaimed, hoping that if he made his voice the loudest in the house they would listen, “I just got home. Can you at least let me take my coat off before ambushing me with questions?”

Childe chose to ignore the way Tonia crossed her arms and started pouting about him never having time for her or whatever. Of course, he always tried to spend as much of his off-duty time with his family, but Tonia had a convenient way of forgetting things like that whenever she wanted to get her way.

What harm was there in letting her pout now? She’d need to get used to him being gone since he was apparently meant to spend the rest of his life halfway across the world. The thought alone made Childe’s chest twinge with pain, but he forced himself to focus on it, to remember it. This pain would never go away, and he’d do best to remember that fact.

Sliding off his coat, Childe was surprised when Anton took it from him and put it away in the closet. Apparently, his family was so interested in what Childe had to say that they were willing to do whatever it took to hurry along the process.

He wanted to move into the living room area to sit down, but the ring his family had made around him refused to even budge. “Guys? Can I sit down please? I’ve been trudging through snow for hours.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” his mother replied, ushering her family towards the humble sitting area in front of the fireplace like a shepherd dog to sheep.

Sitting down with a heavy sigh, Childe was not surprised to open his eyes and see each member of his family staring intently at him, waiting for what he would say first.

He sighed again, long and heavy, disappointed when it did nothing to melt away any of the physical or emotional stress his body was going through. But there was something else that was far more important than his fatigue. “...What smells so good?”

His mother clapped her hands together excitedly.“Oh! That’s dinner. We had to celebrate since you’re getting married so soon, right?”

“...Right.”

“And since we won’t be able to come with you to see the wedding ourselves,” Ouch, “We figured we’d have our own family celebration right here!”

A chorus of affirmative grunts and nods backed up his mother’s notions as his family began their relentless chattering. Childe processed exactly none of it, for he’d forgotten to bring his thoughts back from Zalopany Palace. It took every bit of energy in his body to place a smile on his face, but, just like every other time he wanted to hide his thoughts from his family, he pulled it off without fail.

He allowed himself to be pulled along by his family from the living room and to the small dinner table. This table had seen better days, as it had somehow remained standing through his reckless childhood as well as that of his other siblings. As his family moved to place dish after dish of food in front of him, he idly thumbed a rather large gash in the wood. It was from the time when he was 7, when he’d learned just why his mother forbade bringing axes to the table. Anton had nearly lost a finger then, and Childe had learned just how scary his mother could be.

Then there was the burn mark not too far away, from when his father had made him laugh so hard he’d accidentally knocked over a candle. He’d still been trying to get a grasp on his Hydro vision back then, and had doused the flame along with their entire dinner. All this history on a table that was far too small for their large family. Yet somehow, everyone always had a place to sit and food to eat. Even after coming back from the Abyss broken and scarred, that fact had never changed.

He wondered if the same would be true after he went to Liyue. Would they keep a space for him even if he wasn’t allowed to return?

“That should be the last one,” his mother announced, placing a large loaf of bread in the center of the table.

This was truly far too much food, even for their large family to handle. The small table was crowded with dishes and bowls of varying sizes, each holding their own delicious food. There were multiple types of bread--his mother’s specialty--including a korovai , which he would only get to enjoy on special occasions. Personally, ‘special’ wasn’t the word he would choose to describe this occasion, but he would let it slide as it was the type of food he rarely got to enjoy.

Though he was intent on stewing in his sour mood for the rest of his life, Childe couldn’t help but let his attitude fall when his nose caught whiff of the massive pile of pierogies on the other side of the table. His mouth watered instantly, his stomach rumbling violently as he recalled that he hadn’t eaten anything since the morning. A day spent hiking through a blizzard could work up one’s appetite easily.

His mother always made the best pierogies. Of course, every person in Snezhnaya claimed the same thing, but Childe knew that they were all wrong. His family’s were special because they were a team effort. His mother made the filling while his father made the dough and closed them once filled. If one of them was absent, the entire thing would fall apart. It was proof of their love and devotion towards one another.

Childe was more than willing to enjoy the fruits of their labor. Pierogies were, after all, his favorite. Plate in hand, he busied himself with piling it high with the delicious food.

“Try these,” insisted his mother, placing even more pierogies on his plate, “They don’t have any meat in them. I thought I could send you some for your trip to Liyue.”

Childe tried not to dwell on the thought that he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the foods in front of him again for a very long time.

He placed the pierogi in his mouth and chewed. “It’s delicious,” he said, after swallowing, hoping that the food would take with it the lump that had begun to form in his throat.

Childe wasn’t usually one to believe in silly things like omens, but the boat ride to Liyue was beginning to force him to change his mind.

“Everyone to your rooms!” one of the crewmates bellowed, his voice fighting against the wind to be heard. The sky, once clear and blue, had suddenly darkened as if it were possessed by some kind of merciless anger. Below it, the sea beat its choppy waves against the hull of the ship, threatening to topple it over.

Not willing to go barreling overboard, Childe scrambled to follow the rest of the passengers down into the heart of the ship. The rapidly pooling puddles of water on the deck nearly caused him to slip, but he caught himself at the last moment and took cover inside.

“Osial’s wrath is upon us!” a young man exclaimed, somehow loud enough to be heard over the thrashing waves. Childe watched the lad drop to his knees and begin to pray, “Morax, please have mercy on us!”

Osial? Morax? Childe wasn’t sure who those names belonged to, but they’d certainly done a number on the crewmates. Just about everyone save for Childe was busy bracing themselves while mumbling prayers to some unseen entity. Somehow, between holding on for dear life and dodging the tumbling passengers around him, Childe found the time to observe the people. How curious that the Liyuens were praying to this “Morax'' instead of Rex Lapis, their actual archon.

Clearly, Morax was more capable than some silly god of commerce. That was the only explanation that made a lick of sense. What could a God of Commerce do against a raging storm? Bargain for how many unfortunate souls the sea would be allowed to take? But a God of War was an entirely different story. Nobody screwed around with a God of War. Not even the sea. His curiosity piqued, Childe vowed to inquire about Morax if he made it off of the boat alive. Though, if the reaction of his fellow passengers was any indication, he wouldn’t get the chance.

Wave after viscous wave pelted against the sturdy ship. The wooden panels creaked and groaned against the burden, yet the vessel stood firm. Truth be told, the frantic reactions of everyone on the boat were not without their merit. Childe had been aboard many boats during a storm, but none had been this bad.

The boat suddenly tilted up as it soared across a massive wave, the passengers inside being tossed to and fro along with the will of the ocean. Somewhere across the ship, an unlucky passenger lost their lunch, and Childe silently thanked the gods that his stomach was immune to seasickness. Years spent travelling via boat across the world for the Tsaritsa had given him a near iron-clad constitution.

Regardless of his experience, this situation was ridiculous. He would need to intervene if they were going to have any hope of seeing the light of day again.

Using his Vision, Childe closed his eyes and tried to connect with the ocean. This was by no means an easy feat for him--he was more suited for using his Vision for combat instead of for sensing his surroundings. Still, once he managed to tune out the incessant wailing from the few children aboard, everything started clicking into place.

It felt a bit like being submerged underwater. Cold and disorienting at first, but once he was fully immersed in it, he began to acclimate. He could feel the frenzied currents that pulled their boat in every direction but forward, the discovery doing little than to make him sigh. He’d been hoping that this storm would settle quickly, but it was becoming increasingly clear that it would not.

Childe idly wished that he’d spent more time honing his control over his element like his fellow Harbingers had always told him. At the time, he’d been convinced that he’d only need enough control to quickly switch between weapon types. He hadn’t imagined there would come a time when he’d be stuck in a rocking death trap in the middle of the worst storm he’d ever had the misfortune of experiencing.

Hindsight may be 2020 but it would be useless if he died.

So, like many things in his life, Childe endeavored to learn on his feet. Closing his eyes once again, he connected with the water around him. In a perfect world, he would stop the rain, calm the sea, and focus the tangled currents in one direction. But things were far from perfect, so he instead focused on what he could do.

Protect the ship. He could cover the ship with a protective bubble layer to prevent it from springing any leaks and taking any substantial damage. It would require all of his concentration, but he was almost certain he’d be able to pull it off.

He took a few deep breaths, just like he always did whenever he activated his Vision. Just like he’d learned to do in the depths of the Abyss. With each exhale, the sensations of his surroundings slowly bled away until finally, it was just him and the terrible ocean. Using his element to feel his way, he slowly started pushing his influence around the boat, wrapping it in a small yet sturdy layer of water.

The effect was slow, but noticeable, as soon enough, the rocking became less violent and the creaking of the wood less piercing. It was by no means a smooth ride, but the people within the ship’s hold no longer went tumbling around the floor head first with each wave.

The adults seemed to have noticed the change, as their cries had turned into confused murmurs, but the children had not. Childe winced as a baby’s ear-destroying screech pierced through his concentration. The lapse only lasted for but a moment, but the falter in protection had been enough to pitch the ship to the side. Bodies slammed into Childe as he scrambled to pull his protection back together.

He only allowed himself to breathe once he’d managed to coerce the boat back into its upright position. He frowned, the first bead of sweat appearing on his face.

This would be a long trip.

Why could it not have been a terrible day? Childe asked himself as he stepped off of the boat. The trip to Liyue had been rife with storms, but the day of his arrival was as beautiful as it possibly could be. The storm had lasted for almost the majority of the trip, which meant that Childe had needed to pull multiple all-nighters in favor of making sure that nobody on the boat died. It would have been better if the weather in Liyue had been black and grey with clouds to match Childe’s gloomy mood.

Yet, the sun, so big and bold, shone brightly upon the land and bathed the harbor in its warm light. A light breeze blew in from the sea, tasting faintly of salt and offering comfort against the warm climate. It was nice to know that, despite being halfway across the world, the ocean still smelled the same it did back home. He held that fact close to his heart, refusing to let it go.

All around him, the harbor was abuzz with people. Vendors called out their best pitches they could muster, children played around the boats, and hungry shoppers sought out their next lunch. Childe hadn’t been around this many people since the last time he’d been deployed on a mission to Mondstadt , and even then, it had never been this busy.

It suddenly occurred to him that with the sun so in control as it was, there was no place for him to hide. Normally, he would stick to shaded alleys and secluded corners in busy streets such as the ones before him now. But that was impossible here, for there were no shadows within Rex Lapis’ land. Liyue was a land of sun as much as it was a land of opportunity.

A girl approached him from the bustling crowd, a small detail of guards at her side. She had light blue hair that, had it not been tied back as it was, would surely get in her way. 

“You must be Master Tartaglia. I am Rex Lapis’ right-hand and faithful servant, Ganyu. It has been a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise,” Childe tossed, not looking at the woman. He wasn’t interested in who this woman was in the slightest, but if she was as important as she claimed, he would at least give her the barest of pleasantries.

If she noticed his ill-mannered demeanor, she didn’t make it known. Instead, she simply gave him her warmest smile and tilted her head in a bow. “I wish to welcome you to Liyue on behalf of His Eminence, Rex Lapis. We are overjoyed that you were able to arrive safely.”

“Yeah.”

“It is most regrettable that he is unable to make your acquaintance today, but the ever-turning gears which keep this country running cannot simply halt for but one man. Rex Lapis sends gifts along with his regards.”

“Thanks.”

“I have been sent by his Eminence, Rex Lapis, to bring you to the palace. Please, come with me. May I help you with your things?”

Childe quirked an eyebrow up at her offer. He’d only brought a single bag with him packed with the barest essentials. He hadn’t know what his situation would be like in Liyue, after all, and it couldn’t hurt to pack light lest his luggage weigh him down. “I think I’ve got it. Thanks.”

“Very well. Then, if you’ll kindly follow me this way. We’d best get going.”

The harbor was alive with people. At every turn, Childe could see people at work, whether it be ambitious market owners, hardworking crewmen, or bargain-seeking customers, it was clear that everyone came to Liyue Harbor for a reason. Even Childe was not exempt from that all-encompassing rule, though he doubted there was anyone else here who was on their way to wed a person they’d never met.

Everything that Childe’s eye landed on was immediately fascinating: rare fruits, strange gadgets, and even large fish fresh from the ocean. Yet, with the security detail surrounding him at all sides, it was impossible for him to move even a half step out of line before being immediately corrected and brought back on course. Childe groaned. If this was how his life was leading up to the wedding, he dreaded thinking about how restricted it would be after the marriage. Would he even be able to breathe without express permission?

The harbor was teeming with life, the people moving as if following along to some long-ingrained dance to some invisible rhythm. Everyone seemed to know what everyone was doing at all times--a woman with a large basket of fruits would swing her produce just a little too far to the right and the man standing beside her would duck as if he’d been told beforehand to do so. Years spent packed tight among the mass of people must give you a sixth sense of some kind.

Childe watched as they carried out their well-tuned dance to the rhythm he couldn’t hear. He failed to stifle a groan that emerged from his lungs upon the realization that he didn’t know how to dance. Childe made a mental note to wear his steel-toed boots the next time he found himself in the thrall of the harbor. One could easily leave a place like this with a bruise on every toe.

Despite the crowd, the overall energy of the place was doing wonders on his mood. He could feel the black cloud of dread begin to ebb under the shining sun. As he passed by street stall after street stall, his eyes became fixed on the many goods that were being displayed. Jewels from faraway lands, clothes of bright colors, and even curious weapons Childe had never seen. Unconsciously, his pace began to slow as his feet started shifting him further from his escorts.

Just as he was preparing to stop at one of the weapons stalls, he found himself being gently but firmly nudged back into place within the protection of the guards. “I must insist that you stay close, Master Tartaglia,” said Ganyu, who had fallen back to match his pace, “These people mean well, but they are quite adept at praying upon new arrivals. It would be best to go to the palace without any stops along the way.”

“I guess,” grumbled the Harbinger, biting back a pout. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. No matter, he’d just come back after settling in.

The welcoming committee escorted Childe through the busy streets and into the capitol with precision. Soon enough, they were walking up the stairs leading to the palace. This was the so-called “Golden House” of Liyue. Ganyu prattled on about the history behind the name as they traversed the walkway, but Childe only paid partial attention. Something about how Rex Lapis made Mora. When she referred to Rex Lapis and “the country’s greatest treasure”, he tuned out completely.

Strangely enough, the towering walls, glittering lanterns, and golden floors did not intimidate Childe in the slightest. No, as a Harbinger, he had made many trips to palaces of different shapes and sizes. They all were fundamentally the same, with characteristic differences that made them unique. But it was the key similarities that made Childe feel at home. He’d spent a great deal of time over the years within the walls of Zapolyarny Palace, and though the color and atmosphere was quite different, he still felt a comfortable familiarity which he welcomed with open arms.

The palace staff had clearly been expecting him, for the front hall was lined on both sides with what could only be every staff member on-hand. Each of them bowed low, their backs never once wavering. Childe was used to this, of course, but he never quite knew how to feel about it. As he passed each person by, he wondered how they saw him. Fear? Pity? Curiosity? Whatever the case, he was sure to disappoint them. He would simply be himself and nothing more. Rex Lapis be damned.

“Each person you see now is prepared to meet each of your needs. Should you find yourself in want of anything, you can ask any of these people here,” Ganyu explained as they went by. She paused by the large staircase to check that he was still following her. When she saw that he was, she began to ascend the stairs. “Your living quarters are in the upper section of the palace. All staff reside in the lower levels, with some key exceptions.”

“How far up is my room?” he asked.

“Yours is on the top floor, together with His Eminence, Rex Lapis’ room.”

Great. He’d need to perform an actual miracle if he wanted to avoid his fiance whenever possible. It was beginning to look like his room would be the only place he’d spent time in. For a moment, he thought about how the life of a hermit was not what he’d signed up for, but then he reminded himself that he hadn’t signed up for any part of this arrangement. At least there was a great big city to explore whenever he got bored.

Getting to his room was relatively uneventful, though it took longer than it probably should’ve considering he was being surrounded by a full detail of security despite being in the heart of the palace.

Soon enough, Ganyu stopped in front of a closed set of double-doors. She turned to face him and smiled, “We’re here.” With a flourish, she opened the doors and stepped back to allow Childe to enter first.

Childe didn’t know how to react to such a show of extravagance, but he certainly wasn’t impressed. This place was nothing like his home, with its king-sized bed, plush carpets, and walk-in closet. The view, too, showed not the white canvas of billowing snow, but the picture of a bustling port city. He knew at that moment that he would trade it all for his familiar life in a heartbeat.

“Fucking bullshit,” he swore beneath his breath.

He cast a glance at his only bag, which he’d thrown onto one of the many large chairs, his only physical connection back to his family.

The painful twinge of homesickness gripped at his heart and refused to let go. This room alone was as big as the tiny family cottage he’d grown up in, and he longed to return. Crawling onto the bed, he coaxed his muscles into relaxing just a bit from their coiled up knot.

“Is there anything that you need?” Ganyu asked, causing him to startle. He hadn’t realized that she was still there. “His Eminence has commanded that I see to it that you feel welcome and comfortable.”

Childe cast a glance at the window, noting the bright midday sun. He guessed it was just about noon. “Yeah, know any good bars? I’m in the market to get hammered.”

Ganyu’s face remained motionless, but Childe didn’t miss the way her eyes widened at his words. She clearly hadn’t been expecting this kind of request.

“I’m afraid that is not something that I can help you with.”

“Oh? And why not?” Childe pushed. “I thought it was your job to make me ‘welcome and comfortable.’”Anticipating that she would respond with something about it not even being evening, Childe began generating counters that would push her buttons further.

But he never got to use a single one.

“You are not allowed to leave your room,” Ganyu replied, crossing her arms.

Childe felt like he’d been struck on the back of his head, his body draining of all heat in an instant. Had he heard her right? “You can’t be serious.”

“I understand that this may come as a shock, but it is a decree directly from Rex Lapis himself.”

Left with nothing else to do, Childe did what he always did when backed into a corner. He laughed. He laughed until it was all he could hear, until his face stopped trying to pull down into a frown, until his lungs hurt more than his heart. He didn’t miss the way Ganyu and her guards stared at him as if he’d just lost his mind, but it did nothing to stop the violent laughs that he squeezed out from his body. 

“So he rips me away from my family and when I’m finally where he wants me he locks me up? Does he do the same thing to you too? No wonder everyone is always tacking on fancy honorifics whenever they use his name. And I’m supposed to marry my jailor? Unbelievable! What a fucking prick!”

“You take that back this instant!” Ganyu’s gaze was as sharp and fiery as her words. Gone was the gentle and friendly demeanor she’d shown before. Now there was nothing but a visage of anger and disgust. She didn’t take another step closer to Childe, but he didn’t miss the way her hands had closed into fists. He’d finally found a button to press. 

Good, he thought as he waltzed closer to her. The sound of boots dragging lazily across the floor was the only thing that could be heard within the spacious room until Childe was finally close enough to hear her breathing. She was tall, but Childe was taller, and he used every inch he had over her to give him the upper hand.

Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, “Or what?”

“We’re done here,” she spat. Childe watched as Ganyu backed away with more speed than he would’ve thought her capable of. She paused at the door, her glare still doing its best to slice him in two, “I’ll see to it that guards are stationed outside for your protection. I trust that you understand everything we’ve discussed. Meals will be delivered to your room in a timely fashion. Should you need anything else, you need only ask.”

And with a flourish, she was gone. The door slammed shut behind her, and Childe was suddenly left very alone once again.

“Ugh! You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” he exclaimed, kicking over the first piece of furniture his eyes landed on. “Unbelievable!”

How could Ganyu drop such a bomb on him with a straight face? He was stuck in this stupid room? Ridiculous! He was supposed to be an “honored guest of the palace” or some bullshit, and yet they were locking him up like a wanted criminal!

He looked around, realizing for the first time that he was finally, truly, dreadfully alone. 

Alone. The very word seemed to bounce around in his head like an echo chamber, taunting him in a way that only his own mind could. That word had never held much weight to Childe because it had never applied to him. But now that he was here, trapped in a luxurious cage thousands of miles from home, he felt so incredibly small. Alone, that’s what he was. There was nothing--no one for him here, and he was reminded of the fact at every turn.

His traitorous mind idly wondered what Tonia would think of this enormous room. She’d probably race off to the nearest flea market in search of something pretty to put into her wild hair. His chest twinged as he imagined her wide grin, still missing two of her front teeth.

He stuffed the feeling into the same box he’d stuffed all of his emotions save for anger. He didn’t need anything else but his anger. If Rex Lapis thought that this relationship would earn him anything more than ire and coldness then he was mistaken. With any luck, his sheer disappointment with Childe’s lack of compassion would get him sent back to Snezhnaya with a note reading “defective” fastened to his shirt.

Yeah, he could do that.

There was no telling how much time he spent idling in that room. Pacing the floors over and over, turning out every drawer for anything useful, tossing on the bed until there were no more cool spots left. He didn’t even notice when the sun began to dip down towards the horizon.

Peering out of the window, Childe couldn’t help but grin. He’d just found his ticket for getting out of here. He just needed to make sure his pesky babysitters waiting in the hall didn’t get in his way.

“Archons above, that trip really took it out of me!” he bemoaned loudly, “I know the evening is young, but I don’t think I could stay awake another moment!” He produced the loudest yawn his lungs could possibly muster, almost laughing when he heard the sound echo softly in the room.

“My!” he exclaimed, “These sheets are so comfortable! I might just fall asleep the moment I close my eyes.” Cerulean eyes rolled instead of closed. As he spoke more nonsense aloud, Childe got to work at staging his bed. Snatching up pillow after useless pillow, he stuffed them under the heavy covers until he had a shape that resembled that of a sleeping person. If he cut the lights, no one would be able to notice that anything was out of place. Perfect.

“Oh! And these pajamas! I could get used to these!”

Crossing to the other side of the room, Childe began blowing out the candles that illuminated his room one by one, making sure to yawn loudly once again when he passed by the door. “Maybe a good night’s rest will make me feel better about all of this!” he exclaimed, his voice optimistic but his face contorted into one of pure mockery. If the guards outside knew anything about him, they’d know he was lying through his teeth.

Good thing nobody around here bothered to care about him other than his status as Rex Lapis’ fiance.

When all of the candles had been extinguished, Childe checked his pillow stand-in one more time before climbing onto the window sill. Sticking his head out into the night, he breathed in, relishing in the feeling of the salty evening air coming in from the ocean. He looked out onto the city with a thrilled grin.

“Here I come, Liyue. Let’s see if you’re all you’re cracked up to be,” he muttered to himself, a wild grin splayed across his face before he jumped into the night.

“Another one!” he exclaimed, slamming his cup down on the wooden bar. He would need way more than this to get to let go of the tension the past day had accumulated within him. Perhaps if he soaked his brain in alcohol he could convince himself he was still in Snezhnaya, if only for the night.

“You got it,” said the bartender, obeying Childe’s request. He tilted the fiery liquid down his throat, gulping it down like it didn’t burn its way down his throat with an intensity that made every hair on his arms stand at attention.

He slammed the cup down once again and rested his head on his arms,  “Dammit all,” he groaned. There had been very little thought that went into deciding to drink his stress away, and, unsurprisingly, it wasn’t helping much. Just as he felt his thoughts started to lift away from the shocking reality that he was about to sign his life away to some god he had absolutely no attachment to, he would look around and realize that he was in a completely unfamiliar place. And just like that, he would be back to fixating on the terrible turn of events his life had taken.

“Why would she do this to me?” he groaned, far louder than was necessary, “Is it because of what I did in Inazuma? I apologized for that already, but maybe it wasn’t enough…”

“Pardon me, but are you alright?” came a voice from beside him, “You seem to be in a bit of distress.”

“Bullshit!” Childe exclaimed, sitting back up. He flopped his head over to the side, directing his commentary at whatever unfortunate soul had spoken to him, “There’s gotta be some way to get out...of…” Even with his vision all drunken and hazy, he was still left speechless by the absolute picture of handsomeness sitting beside him. And just like that, his trail of thought was left forgotten, abandoned in favor of the attractive stranger.

“Hhhhhi,” Childe drolled, holding out the “H” sound far too long, “‘M Childe, what’s your name?”

The stranger graced him with a smile as soft as feathers, “Zhongli. Pleased to meet you.”

This Zhongli person had single-handedly made Childe forget about the drink in front of him. He had long, silky hair that he kept held back in a neat ponytail. Surely, anything that glistled like Zhongli’s hair had to be soft to the touch. Golden eyes were framed by thick eyelashes and streaks of red make up at the corners. His clothes were a mixture of brown and yellow tones, which complimented the rest of his appearance nicely.

Childe started rocking in his chair, “I think you’re the prettiest person I’ve seen in my life... Why can’t I just marry you instead?”

“That would be rather...sudden. We’ve only just met.”

“How’s that different from me!?” Childe exclaimed, smacking his hand on the bar, “That’s crazy, right?!”

“...I’m not sure I follow—”

“It’s crazy. Crazy, crazy--hey, can I get some more?” he cut himself off to try (and fail) to get the bartender’s attention.

“I can’t imagine you’ll be feeling very well in the morning,” said the handsome stranger, waving the bartender away.

“Don’t worry! ‘M from Snezhnaya. We drink this stuff like it’s water.”

“Snezhnaya? What brings you so far from home?”

“Ahhhhh!” Childe exclaimed, slamming his cup down once again after another shot, “Stupid shit, that’s what!”

Childe waited a few seconds for Zhongli to ask what he meant by “stupid shit”, but when the other man remained silent, Childe continued on anyway. “It’s all Rex Lapis’ fault. Of all the Archons, it just had to be the God of Contracts. That’s not even anything cool to be the god of.”

Zhongli chuckled at Childe’s sudden outburst, clearly amused by something, though Childe’s brain was starting to be too fuzzy to tell if he was laughing at him or with him. “I have never thought of it in such a way, but I suppose there is some merit to what you say.”

“You’re damn right! If I have to be dragged away from my family, it would at least be better if it were for some cool god like...what was his name again? The war god, the one who throws mountain spears?”

“...I believe you’re speaking of Mora-”

Childe slammed his hands down on the bat top, a drunken smile on his face,“Morax! That’s right!”

All of the patrons of the bar who, until now, had been politely pretending not to overhear every word Childe bellowed, now turned a glare onto the man himself. Morax was, after all, only a name to be spoken in great reverence and called upon only when necessary. 

Yet here was some drunk foreigner throwing around the name like it was his own. “That guy knows what he’s doing. I can respect a man who knows how to fight.”

The stranger smiled in a way that made the skin around his eyes crinkle. Childe found himself staring, and idly thought to himself that the other man was quite cute.

“Thank you,” the stranger said with a light chuckle, “I must admit, I’ve never been called ‘cute’ before. It’s a rather nice feeling.”

Huh?

Oh. OH. He’d said that out loud, hadn’t he?

“‘S true,” Childe doubled down, grinning at his own foolishness. He hadn’t said anything he didn’t actually believe, so what was the problem? “What ‘m I supposed to do? You’re gorgeous.”

“And you are intoxicated.”

“Me? I’m just getting warmed up. If I were drunk, I wouldn’t be wearing clothes anymore,” he gestured down to his clothes which were very much still on.

Though, if this stranger kept looking so good in front of him, that fact might have to change.

“Tempting, but this is your first night in Liyue, no?”

Childe squinted his eyes at the handsome man, “How’d you know?”

“I frequent this bar around this time of night, yet I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Ahhhhhh.” Made sense enough. “Kudos for figuring me out,” he applauded with a grin.

“It was simple deduction.” 

Childe didn’t know what that meant, but he loved listening to the man speak words, so he allowed him to keep talking. 

“Nevertheless, it’s about time to turn in for the night, yes? I’ve witnessed you consume a frankly frightening amount of alcohol in a relatively short span of time. I wouldn’t want your first morning in Liyue to be spent nursing a hangover. We have the most wonderful morning weather, afterall.”

In the time Zhongli took to finish speaking, Childe had finished yet another shot. His vision was starting to go blurry at the edges as each drink he’d downed one after the other began to catch up with him. He laughed as his head began to swim in discombobulated euphoria. He’d long since stopped listening to what Zhongli was saying, choosing instead to focus on how handsome the man was. Gods, he wouldn’t mind letting someone like that make a mess of him.

“...ilde? Childe?”

“Mmmmm sleepy…” he slurred, his heavy eyelids closing before everything went dark.