[ tonight, the ocean pearl came unmoored from its position at the edge of liyue harbor. the anchor was pulled and the ship set sail into the ocean, not straying far from her chosen residence but leaving their bronze city gleaming across the water and the stars streaming overhead.
the ship carried a gaggle of elegantly-dresses passengers, done up for an event held by the tianquan herself. high-ranking officials and leaders from different parts of teyvat—including one guest—were invited to take part in the hopes of establishing safer, better trade routes and governance. the attire was to be fanciful, the food gourmet, with music and entertainment to match. everything would be perfect, just as the tianquan would have it. (even her date, who was obviously uncomfortable and irritated in her red gown and high, black boots. this isn't her type of crowd. and there was no ale.)
one guest of honor was an official from fontaine and his wife, who ningguang was especially looking forward to conversing with. there were others who looked to do the same—not excluding members of the fatui, or even the abyss order. fontaine residents, let alone members of their governing body, didn't visit liyue often.
childe, of course, was sent as one such representative for the fatui. when the traveler declined to be his date for the evening—where their reputation might have come in handy as a liaison into the official's good graces—childe opted for the next best thing. or person. or ex-god.
that's why zhongli is aboard, straying from childe's side to walk the perimeter of the ship, surveying the view of the harbor beside it. he's wearing a more formal outfit than his wangsheng parlor leisurewear, his hair coiffed a little more neatly, though his jewelry and cosmetics are the same as always. other passengers recognize him and greet him, and they share brief conversations before they move along, leaving him to his sightseeing.
childe will notice he's gone soon. he's interested in the other passengers and news of fontaine, surely, but they have the rest of the evening for that. until then, he'll enjoy the scenery. ]
Edited (someday i'll stop being a serial tag editor) 2022-06-20 20:28 (UTC)
please forgive my 357628356 words of set-up I am so sorry HELP 1/2
[It's a funny thing, diplomatic immunity. By all rights, Childe could have been banished from Liyue indefinitely, if not outright executed for his actions--it hardly matters that he'd been careful enough not to leave direct evidence behind when he'd chosen to send his men out to run interference. But perhaps there's something to be said for playing pawn to two gods--or maybe Ningguang simply thought better of challenging Snezhnaya's military might, settling for the Fatui's ruined reputation in order to concentrate on cementing her political power.
(Privately, Childe suspects Ningguang is far more interested in ruining the Northland Bank than in anything to do with him, an idea that is only cemented by her permitting his attendance tonight. Really, he can't help admiring her, even if he much prefers the company of her companion.)
Regardless of the reasoning, though, the fact remains that Childe was not banished or executed--only restationed, carried on ocean currents and the whims of Her Majesty. The trip to Inazuma had done him good; traversing the Onmyouji Chamber with the Traveler had felt like nothing short of a luxury vacation, temporarily soothing the itch for violence ever-present in his blood. It was refreshing enough that he doesn't even really complain when he's ordered to stop back in Liyue for his least favorite type of assignment. Schmoozing is boring on a good day, but even more so when he absolutely must be on his best behavior.
Well--okay, technically he doesn't have to be. But Childe's Mora barely curries favor in Liyue these days, and he's smart enough not to smash his boot through thin ice. So behaving himself it is.
Zhongli's presence... helps. In a number of ways, really. The Traveler is a hero, yes, but Zhongli is the clear embodiment of Liyue's finest principles. The respect his people have for him is personal, and it means they're mostly willing to hold their tongues on his choice of company, no matter how ill-advised they may think it. (And regardless of the Fatui's current disgrace, a number of patrons on board have done business with them in the past, and will certainly do so in the future. Smoke, mirrors, and a farce of righteousness, every last bit of it.)
But it isn't just practical to have Zhongli with him. Childe won't say it, but... he'd missed this. Spending time together, the illusion of simplicity.
He's well aware that the Traveler does not truly consider him a friend. It's part of the reason they have his trust in the first place. But the fact remains that, setting aside the tenuous relationship he has with them--the closest thing to friendship he's had since the Abyss... remains the days he spent with Zhongli.]
[It's complicated, of course. It has been since before he ever laid eyes on Zhongli. And maybe he's little more than a weak-willed fool after all, for continuing to hold onto the sharp edges of that shattered illusion. For allowing himself to get close enough to care about deceit in the first place. For finding himself distracted from his work even now, some part of him still accustomed to keeping track of Zhongli's whereabouts--a habit he has not tried very hard to quash.
He should be making his way to the couple from Fontaine. He should be plying some old associates with wine and conversation, subtle payment for information his men could use. He should be doing anything other than letting his gaze wander over the crowd until he catches sight of Zhongli--and he should definitely not just hang back and watch him quietly, for no reason other than the pleasure of looking at him.
(Well. At least it helps sell the idea that they're "close", right?)
For a little while, he tears his gaze away and forces himself to focus. But eventually, he notices how far Zhongli's wandered, and he excuses himself from his conversation without giving it much thought. Harbinger perks: doing your job however you want.
He's dressed up too, tonight. Pure whites and rich blues befitting of his status in Her Majesty's court, but not a direct proclamation of his position as a Harbinger. It would be difficult to move stealthily in such finery, but not impossible--but he harbors no delusions about Rex Lapis's intuition, and he has no reason to sneak up on him anyway. His steps are quiet out of habit, but he doesn't try to disguise his presence as he rejoins Zhongli.]
So quick to flee? [It's light, teasing, and he pairs his words with the gentle nudge of his elbow. He'd left his overcoat with an attendant earlier, and even in one of his nicest outfits, he feels a little underdressed beside Zhongli--but then, he supposes that's par for the course for them anyway.]
[ the implication that childe invited him for anything but tactical reasons might have been lost on anyone but zhongli himself. while he was rex lapis no more, zhongli's reputation in liyue preceded him, both as a historian and wangsheng parlor's notorious money sink. vendors and chefs relied on his brief bits of counsel as he made his promenades, and throngs of people would gather at tea house as he regaled customers with one of his stories. bringing zhongli along the ship as a comrade—his date, childe insisted—would do more to polish childe's character than stain zhongli's. only once did ningguang draw zhongli aside to question his choice of company; she conceded to zhongli's point that docking the ship and escorting childe back to shore was more trouble than it was worth, and afterwards she left them alone.
for now, zhongli enjoyed his spot on the periphery of the crowds dappling the deck of the ship. he's seen millennia of human interactions in his lifetime, and while teyvat's civilizations had advanced in their structures, technologies, and studies, the interactions between mortals were cyclical. he could guess the politics surrounding the cliques simply by looking. he would not interrupt unless he deemed it necessary; he abandoned all authority to do so for a reason, and the tianquan could certainly handle the situation herself.
few of those humans had come to surprise him, a god that had survived them for so many years. one was the traveler, who was not of their world. the second was within one of those scattered cadres, clad in white and blue hues accentuating a nest of orange hair.
he had received childe's invitation aboard the ship by letter, testifying to the fact that childe kept track of his whereabouts. it came with the outfit he wore now, courtesy of the northland bank. before childe parted for inazume, the two met with regular frequency in liyue harbor, drinking and talking and perusing the town. after a long period of separation, they only briefly met before boarding the ship.
childe was waiting at the docks, his hands slipped into his pockets. his profile was outlined by the shining ocean behind him, and his blue eyes were settled onto the edge of liyue's mountains, for once betraying a feeling of anticipation and nerves. zhongli felt a pull in his chest, like a drawstring bag wrung tight. he felt longing before, thousands of years ago. the feeling was almost unfamiliar as it reared its head again, a great animal woken from what should have been an eternal slumber.
he made no show of it, deciding to dissect the feeling when time would allow. he had yet to do so even after his eyes trailed off to find his "date" within the crowd. there was something different about this night, which felt so unlike any other rendezvous they've had before. multiple times, he would catch childe's gaze resting on him from the corner of his eye. they hadn't even properly spoken yet. a selfish part of zhongli willed him to come and jape, to seat them at a table and share a drink and ignore the rabble surrounding them.
from where he stood, zhongli could see the smoke of wanmin restaurant's crackling ovens, the open seats of their usual table at third round knockout, the slope of chihu rock down into the harbor where fishermen were bringing in their catch. it was beautiful, and zhongli wished he were there instead—in his home, with childe.
finally, he could hear the familiar footsteps of his companion come to his side. he turns to meet him, one arm resting on the banister. again, he feels that gentle tug as he studies childe's face. he looks back out again to golden, glowing city as night settles over the sky. ]
It's been a long time since I've been able to see Liyue Harbor from such a distance. [ not since he was able to fly, probably. ] I was taking in the sight while I still can.
[ he looks back at childe, a smile quirking at the edge of his mouth. ]
There's no room to flee aboard a ship in the middle of the ocean. Not without diving in. Waterlogging these clothes would be a poor way to thank you for giving them to me.
Zhongli-xiansheng, you wound me if you think I couldn't handle these waters! I was raised on Snezhnayan waves.
[The playful implication, of course, being that he wouldn't let Zhongli (or his clothes) get wet, as if there's any world in which Zhongli would ever actually jump ship in the first place.
It's true, though, that the ocean is calm tonight, the ship carried on gentle waters that glitter with starlight. It's a lovely view, and he doesn't blame Zhongli in the slightest for abandoning the monotony of high society etiquette to gaze out upon it. Especially when they both know he's indulging Childe in this whole endeavor anyway, no matter what Childe said about "penance".
(He does not think about how much brighter Zhongli's eyes look out here, contrasted against the deep blue of the sky and the sea. He doesn't. He does not.)
He's quiet for a moment, then, considering. What does "a long time" mean to Zhongli, anyway? A hundred years? A thousand? Childe serves directly under his Tsaritsa, but he would never ask her such a casual thing, and she's much younger than Zhongli besides. He doesn't ask Zhongli either, but that's because they aren't alone, and such a question would hardly be discreet.
Instead, he wonders:]
...Is it uncomfortable for you? Being off land.
[He knows Zhongli's been on boats before, of course. (He had not been happy to hear about Kliment.) But it's something he's never considered until now--the god of Geo, removed from his element. Or does he find stability deeper down, in the sands of the ocean floor? Could he--
--no, best not to wonder like that right now. The last thing he needs is a craving for a fight that he won't get.]
[ that's another way to read it—that by "handling these waters," childe would be the one to escort him back to the marina. zhongli's smile raises on both corners of his mouth before it gently, naturally fades.
childe is quiet for a moment then, surveying him. zhongli waits for him, almost prompted to speak up first before he's asked his question. zhongli considers it too, drawing in a deep breath. ]
It's true that the smell of the sea rouses memories that I'd rather forget. Fortunately it's not unbearable.
[ so many evil little squids. so many houses. that terrible smell. childe already knows his pest extermination story, though he's slowly been exposing himself to seafood again through walks in the harbor. (it was strange to passers-by when he would walk large circles around the seafood vendors.) ]
But no, I'm not uncomfortable. Even the ocean rests on a bed of sediments.
[ don't try anything though, childe.
he pauses another moment, briefly weighing the consequences of being honest. when childe watches his eyes this way, it's difficult not to be. ]
Degui asked after you during your venture to Inazuma. [ he turns his eyes back to liyue. ] We'll have to pay him a visit once this charade ends.
[ he's met with old friends after long stretches of time before. what made the distance between himself and childe feel so endless then, when he was away? ]
[ as a snezhnayan native, childe was undoubtedly regretting visiting liyue harbor on one of the hottest days of the year.
on this day, the crux glided seamlessly into port, floating on the swirling bed of steam rising from the waves. the sky was cloudless and parched, the blue seeming more infinitesimal in the heat. the sun sat high in the air—the blazing, glaring, white-gold eye of an unforgiving god.
beidou slapped childe on the back as he crossed the deck to the docks. (she disregarded the fact that childe probably felt a little weaker under damp, wet heat.) she told him good luck out there and turned back to her crew, ponytail whipping behind her.
the next trip by boat out of the harbor wouldn't be leaving for four more days. it was too late to change course or find another ship to carry him to fontaine. renting a sailboat also wasn't a sustainable option.
beyond anyone's understanding, zhongli was still in his loungewear as he waited for childe from the docks. or part of it, anyway. he'd shed his overcoats, leaving him in his grey button-up shirt, his tie, his gloves, his slacks and shoes. his face shone with sweat and his hair stuck to his temples. when childe came within earshot, he said, If you'd announced your arrival to me earlier, I might have been able to warn you.
they're here now, sitting in a private room at yanshang tea house. it offers some cool respite from the heat; it's better than eating outdoors. the two are seated at the table at the center of the room, a spread of cold foods laid in front of them. their shoes are crowded by the door; zhongli has since rolled up his sleeves and occasionally dabs the sweat from his forehead with a napkin. sweat gathers in dark stains behind his neck, in the middle of his back, near his collarbone and the crease where his shirt meets his trousers. he's also inexplicably drinking hot tea.
they're conversing about the events in inazuma, but zhongli can't help the way his eyes dip towards the front of childe's shirt. he's been awkwardly shifting since they sat down. ]
Are you not uncomfortable, wearing that?
[ the harness. he can see the sweat clearly outlining it. ]
[Dearest sister, Childe had written once, long before he'd known the true nature of his mission. I've been away for so long, I've almost forgotten the cold of our home...
"Almost" had been the key word, apparently. He'd discovered as much when he'd been summoned back to his motherland, ice settling back into his bones with comfortable familiarity. But that, too, had been fleeting; the Tsaritsa does not take the loss of her chosen lightly, and the chill of her grief had clung to him even as he'd set sail back to Inazuma once more. It had made his heart ache for her, but it had also been a deadly reminder: they could not fail their ultimate mission. She would not survive it, and neither would anyone else.
There was, of course, nothing to be found--the intel from their spies at the Irodori festival had been all there was to know. With Dottore in charge of Sumeru for the time being, there was little to do but wait for their quarry to resurface; in the meantime, Childe had his own business to attend to, nothing so pressing that he couldn't take the long way to his next destination.
Quite simply, he misses Liyue. He's traveled all over the world, but there's something undeniably special about the harbor. Putting the city in danger had been an acceptable risk, and it's a decision he'd make again, if needed--but he's glad there was no true risk of decimation, even if he'd sacrificed the freedom to exist without scrutiny and hatred in pursuit of his goal.
Ah, well. The warm kindness had been nice while it lasted.
But he's Fatui, so the shift in attitude is nothing new. And more importantly, it doesn't stop Beidou from letting him catch a ride in exchange for helping out around the ship. It means he gets his scenic detour--and it means he pens a letter on a whim, one that starts with Dearest xiansheng.
(He misses Zhongli too. Zhongli is Liyue. But those are sentiments that will never be put to paper.)]
[It's a great plan. A fun surprise visit--he can do some shopping for his family, maybe pester Zhongli into a spar, perhaps take a day trip to Dragonspine. He won't be able to stay long, but it'll be a refreshing sort of familiarity before he heads off to Fontaine. Homecoming, his heart might've whispered, had he not chosen to ignore it.
He had not, however, accounted for the weather.
Forgetting the cold of his home--in truth, that was impossible. No Snezhnayan went anywhere without the memory of ice and snow close to their hearts. But forgetting the sticky, unbearable weight of a Liyuen heat wave? That, apparently, was extremely possible.
Childe isn't one for layers; stripping off his jacket and shoving up his sleeves is the best he can do, and it brings him no relief. It's an unpleasant surprise to find that the leather of his weapons harness doesn't fare well in the sun either; the metal, too, feels like it's bypassed his shirt entirely to burn his skin. The ocean breeze does nothing to combat the direct, relentless summer sun; Childe had wilted out at sea so badly, Beidou had taken pity on him and shooed him off to the shade until they arrived at the port.
By then, he'd decided he does not, in fact, need a vacation in Liyue.
Seeing Zhongli again is blessedly distracting--his smile is genuine, and he finds enough energy to wave as he hops off the ship, despite the fact that he knows he must look a little pathetic. He gratefully follows Zhongli to the teahouse, and spends a good 10 minutes simply sprawled in his chair, relishing the shade and regaining the will to live.
It's a shame, really. He wants very badly appreciate seeing Zhongli like this--even now, his eyes can't help straying to Zhongli's arms, like he can't quite believe they're actually exposed. The sight of him sweaty and ever-so-slightly disheveled is something he'll store away for another time.
For now, though, Childe focuses on restricting his own movements, doing his best to minimize the damage to his body. The question makes him grimace--it's not hard to know what Zhongli's looking at, and he looks down, too, rubbing a finger along the edge of the harness.]
In this weather, wearing anything at all is uncomfortable. [Well, at least his humor is still good.] I'm not sure I can get this off normally anymore, though. I'll probably have to get one of my agents to cut it off later... it's a shame, too. This leather was from my hometown.
[ it isn't the first time that he's seen childe without his jacket on. this was the first major heatwave in liyue this year, at a time when childe doesn't usually come to visit, but there have been hot nights before, and when the two of them indulge too deeply in their drink, childe slides off his jacket and convinces zhongli to do the same with his overcoat.
each time, zhongli's eyes will precariously wander to the straps over his chest and shoulders, wondering what it could possibly be used for, where the metal clasps were that childe would unbuckle when he took it off.... and let's not forget the window of childe's stomach drawn even more open than usual, free to peel further open as it pleases. needless to say, zhongli's attention is sometimes more divided than usual when this happens, especially when his head is buzzing pleasantly with drink.
that's not happening right now, but his eye follows childe's gloved finger sliding along the belt's edge. he sets his cup down blindly, his eyes slipping to the leather straps, the near-imperceptible and swirling designs native to snezhnaya. his eyes soften slightly, and he looks again at those metal buckles that he's mapped out so well already. ]
It would be a shame. Perhaps I can help.
[ he repeats it, and then he offers out his hand, gestured towards the straps. ]
[Weirdly enough, Childe just so happens to choke on his tea right after Zhongli says those words. Quickly, he covers his mouth with the back of his hand and turns his face away as he coughs. Huh. Must've swallowed too fast or something.
When he turns back, his face is ever-so-slightly flushed. Man, what uncomfortable weather.]
Sorry, uh. I mean, if you want to, but it's not really that important. [He tries to shrug, but it backfires, and he winces slightly at his own movement.] I can always order a new one.
I do not expect you to reveal all of yourself to me, Ajax. I only worry that you may not seek out assistance when needed, even from those who care for you.
That's the first thing Forneus noticed, back when he'd arrived in these waters. It's been a long time since then--longer still since he'd left his homeland. Even so, he remembers so clearly where he came into existence: Sheets of ice, frozen waves, and creatures larger than anything the people of Liyue could possibly imagine drifting through the lightless depths. Sometimes it still catches him off-guard, how the winds of Yaoguang Shoal tousle his hair instead of slicing his skin. How the shells of Liyue's beaches sing so sweetly, sparkling in the sun. It so rarely gets truly cold in these vast lands rich with Geo. If it weren't for the fact that he can travel with speed and ease, Forneus suspects he would miss the snow.
Ah--but he's claimed another name, that's right. "Ajax," something he'd plucked from the waters of Byakuyakoku. (He's claimed some of those Liyuen shells, too, but that hardly counts when he keeps them tucked away in a cove near the beaches they came from.)
He's a bit like a magpie, or so he's been told. "That's just another name for a thief," Beelzebul had pointed out at the time, but he'd just found it funny. Why take offense? It's not the gods' fault that so many of them are bound to their territories, reluctant to venture too far in restless times. If they could see, as he can, just how vast the world is, he's certain they would want to collect bits and pieces of it too, no matter how many wars have erupted between them.
But for all that his fellow gods consider him odd, he's begun to understand them. He never used to stay in one place--why would he, when saltwater touches anywhere and everywhere? The rivers, the lakes, the inland waters, those he leaves to their own deities, but the seas... It would have been terribly remiss of him, as their god, to leave them unexplored.
Liyue has changed him, though. It's different. Liyue has never stopped him from leaving as his whims take him, but... for the first time, Ajax has found somewhere that calls him back.
For the first time, he's found reasons to stay.
So, he has. Morax is... not exactly the most gracious of gods, sometimes, but he's permitted Ajax to claim the lands near the Shoal. Privately, Ajax suspects he's relieved to share the burden of watching over so many regions--Morax has no shortage of allies, but he has even more enemies. The Shoal, Mingyun Village, and the parts of Vindagnyr Barbatos doesn't pay attention to are a small price to pay for Ajax's--no, Forneus's allegiance.]
[And that's... what they are. Probably. "Allies" is a safe term, a truth, one which holds roughly the same meaning amongst humans as it does between gods like themselves (simply on different scales). Ajax likes to think they're close, just like Guizhong and Barbatos--they seem to have simply decided for themselves that they're Morax's friends, and Ajax has followed their lead. He's not actually sure how Morax truly feels about any of them (well, save for Guizhong)--but none of them have been buried underground or thrown to the mountaintops just yet, so it's probably fine.
...Okay, that's not true. But Ajax doesn't count the times he's provoked Morax into it, and Morax--despite his apparent confusion--has continued to indulge him, so, really. It's fine.
(And if he wonders, sometimes, about the nights when he feels Morax standing on his shores in quiet contemplation, apparently drawing peace from the sound of his gentler waves; about the moments that stern visage cracks, just enough to let mirth, warmth, and light through; about the way Morax always seems a little more focused, a little more at ease after their sparring matches--if he wonders, then he keeps it to himself.)
He's banking on those indulgences again today, as he forms a bow and arrow from water and aims in Morax's direction. From this high up on the cliffs, he can see much farther than a human could; just as Morax, he suspects, has probably already noticed him. But that's fine; Ajax isn't often inconspicuous, and he's in a mood besides. This small stretch of peaceful days won't last. Osial has been at his doorstep far too often for comfort lately, and Ajax's patience is wearing thin over it, but he doesn't want to ask for aid. He can handle it. Osial, after all, has not yet earned a gnosis, and he probably never will--Ajax is at a disadvantage when it comes to Osial's affinities, but he isn't so concerned that he can't take a day for himself.
And "a day for himself" means riling up Morax, provoking him into a spar as he so loves to do. He aims a little bit higher, then looses the arrow, watching with interest to see if it strikes true. Sometimes Barbatos knocks his arrows off-course for fun; other times, he's on Ajax's side, and they hassle Morax together. But Barbatos isn't visiting today--this shot is all on Ajax.]
[ when morax first heard of forneus, he was standing at the mouth of a cave. seawater lapped at the soles of his feet, fizzing as it reached weakly into the craggy depths. sunlight laid hot on his back, stretching his shadow underneath him.
his eyes were on the floor, where larger stalactites were once crushed into sand. on its surface, unfamiliar footprints led in and out of the cave. pieces of blue and white shell dappled parts of the ground, likely caught in the tide and rushed down against the rocks.
high tide happened in the morning, he knew. these footprints can't be more than a few hours old.
when the newly-christened anemo archon floated down beside him, morax didn't turn to look.
i see we have a visitor, said barbatos, lacing his fingers and propping them under his chin, intrigued.
liyue has a visitor, morax corrected. two now, in fact. neither of you arrived by invitation.
you can be such dull company sometimes. barbatos pouted. i only wanted to surprise a friend. you're lucky that i came when i did, in fact. what if i have some valuable information about your new squatter, hm?
morax agreed to procuring a jug of guili assembly's finest wine to give to barbatos. in exchange, barbatos divulged what he knew of the stranger. as he flew over yaoguang shoal that morning, he saw another god rise out of the ocean. this one also had a humanoid vessel, with the physique of a warrior, auburn hair, and ocean eyes that glowed as he tamed the waters around him. barbatos camped on a nearby cliff and watched the stranger slip out of the ocean and onto the beach. boringly (barbatos said) he did nothing but explore—but he did pick up an unbroken starconch. he examined it, listened to it, and held it carefully in his hand as he walked along the shore. he even dipped into the lands surrounding it.
eventually they find it: a long, smooth rock with small treasures from liyue. barbatos remarks on how kind of adorable it is. morax says nothing and turns to leave. it'll all be taken by the waters from an oncoming storm anyway.
liyue isn't new to sea gods or monsters. by morax's order, if these beasts caused substantial damage to liyue, they would quickly be disposed of.
when they finally meet, it isn't long before forneus's platitudes dissolved into the challenge he was looking for. morax, stone-faced as ever, calmly accepted.
don't hold back, forneus said, his smile teetering on the edge of lunacy. it's a look morax would never forget. i won't either.
at the end of the fight, forneus lay on his side, bleeding out a shallow puddle of pure and glittering blue. his fingers gently curled and released in his palms, and his chest heaved as he gulped for air like a fish out of water. one wide, blue eye stared back at morax, watching for any minuscule move against him as if he could respond in the first place.
morax stood over him, solid and imposing. the end of his glowing spear pointed at forneus's cheek.
he remembered his defeat of the chi near mt. qingce: flesh torn from bones, soul split from the open ribcage, spirit strangled into silence, the rain of blood over bishui plains as the parts were scattered to their graves.
this is how you kill a sea god for good. and he has killed before, plenty of times. he killed beings much more dear to him than this stranger.
he remembered the cave—the carefully laid starconches, perfectly in tact.
morax turned and departed without a word. he left a wordless demand: forneus was alive by his mercy. he should return to snezhnaya, or fontaine, anywhere far from liyue. next time, he won't be so lucky.
except.
the very next day, forneus found him again. he shot through the skies like a diving sparrow, headed straight for him. his blades were crossed over his chest, his orange hair blowed behind him, and his deep blue eyes were almost bright as stars. forneus shouted his name and laughed with mad delight before those blades met the shaft of morax's polearm, sending sparks where they collided.
morax hardly ever makes mistakes. this was one of the first.
they spar a few times before forneus—ajax, he learned—was permitted to keep yaoguang shoal and minyun village so long as he honored the terms of morax's contract. if you are the cause of any harm to liyue, he said, eyes burning yellow, i will kill you without hesitation.
ajax seemed almost dangerously excited by the threat. morax corrected himself and said that they would no longer do battle at all. that quickly ended the conversation. ]
[ the sea god settled into liyue almost like he'd always lived there. when guizhong finally caught a glimpse of him, she decided that she liked him. he was invited to guili plains to meet the people of the assembly. barbatos came to visit, and they quickly became brothers-in-arms against morax's peace and quiet. cloud retainer wasn't fond of ajax, and she made no secret of it. guizhong still asked morax to erect another seat of stone at the table on mt. aocang. he did so quickly and silently, and cloud retainer didn't protest.
of course, the spars continued, though morax denied them most of the time. during one battle, barbatos even caught him smiling. another mistake.
he never let morax forget it. he needled him in private, asking him if it meant something that a stone-faced buffoon like morax was enjoying himself when he was with ajax.
morax said that there was an unknown intruder near qingce, and they would need to act swiftly.
he and ajax have their moments. morax, knowing better, let's his guard gently loosen. ajax would interact with the residents of the village or the people of guili with ease and friendliness. he learned their customs and followed them carefully. he was unendingly loyal, surprisingly thoughtful, almost human in his attempts to connect.
occasionally they would stand at a cliff or mountaintop, two beasts simply watching the sun pass over liyue. morax would hear him say something profound, or he would show genuine admiration and warmth toward liyue. morax's eyes would surreptitiously slide over to him, and he would watch ajax close his eyes and let the warm sun press to his face. the breeze always made his hair tousle and shine. his eyelashes were brown, not black. he wore an easygoing smile much of the time, but there was a serenity to it that he only rarely showed.
ajax fought against creatures that threatened their home. he would keep liyue safe, which was most important of all.
morax knew this deep within him. the thought brought him back to the shoal again and again, quietly walking the length of the beach or standing and overlooking the waves. they lapped over his feet, bubbling as the water rose over his ankles. then they were drawn back into the ocean, away from him.
morax remembered the cove near yaoguang shoal. he thought of ajax and closed his eyes. he waited for the sound of his voice above the roar of the sea. ]
when ajax aims his arrow at morax's back, morax only seems preoccupied. ajax will be happy to see the arrow fly dangerously close, it's getting there, just a second until it hits—
in the blink of an eye, morax turns and catches the arrow in his glowing fist, the tail of his hair whipping behind him. the shaft burns his palm a little, but he looks entirely unfazed. maybe even bored.
a stele erupts from the ground underneath ajax's feet. he's launched quickly into the air and sails towards a cluster of sandbearer trees a little further down the cliff.
[It's what he expected--he's in Morax's domain, after all. And besides, while the seas may pre-date even the first hints of earth, Morax walked his lands long before Ajax rose from his depths.
It's a strong retaliation, because Morax, for all that he tolerates Ajax's games, is not one for lenience. In Ajax's (admittedly biased) opinion, he doesn't typically use more force than needed, but neither does he pull his punches. He attacks with perfect precision, and Ajax delights in it. For someone so tied to the waters that define him, there is a joy in the reminder that this form is tangible enough to be struck.
So he laughs as he goes flying, effervescent. It's a simple task to call up the water and let it envelop him, and he uses the trees to redirect his trajectory, sailing towards Morax. Unhindered by gravity, though Ajax suspects it's less that he's meant to be able to do this, and more that the forces that created him didn't realize they'd have to stop him from trying.
Landing on his feet next to Morax probably would've been the smart thing to do, especially since he does want to chat. But how is that fun? He's had countless foes to slay recently, sure, but that's a necessity. That's his duty, what he swore to do--not Morax's divine contract, but the promise he made to the people.
There is so much life within the depths of the ocean, beyond what he could even begin to describe to those who can't witness it themselves. It isn't life that makes the humans special. It's that humans are the only land creatures who have ever tried to brave the raging tides. The only ones who have gazed upon him from afar and reached out toward the horizon. And Ajax will do anything to keep that adventurous spirit alive.
So he fights. For them, he fights. He enjoys it, too, even when it frustrates him on a larger scale. But that's not fun, the way sparring with Morax is. All this to say--
No, he does not land neatly on his feet beside Morax. Instead, he lets his water bubble burst when he's merely a few feet away, revealing the watery spear in his hand. He doesn't hold back as he lunges for Morax, since, well. He made quite a conspicuous sight, sailing over the cliffs in a great glittering sphere like he did. Even a godling would be prepared to block this strike, and Ajax isn't counting on landing a hit so much as engaging in a spar in earnest with the first blow.]
[ adepti have no need of rest, or so they say. ask rex lapis, and he would have called this a half-truth: the act of sleeping isn't necessary for gods and adepti, but rest in any of its forms, unconscious or otherwise, is a necessity for any sentient being. the act of sleeping might be one of those forms.
the mortal zhongli has gotten very good at sleeping. it was a novelty like any other mortal experience he'd indulged in. if he was going to play his part, he would commit to the role entirely, whether or not anyone was watching him. that night on the ocean's pearl, he finally found an audience.
childe didn't visit often, and when he did, the two of them usually gave into their appetites for as long as they reasonably could. they would only consider sleep in the early hours of the morning while they laid in bed, spent and satisfied, pillow talking. childe would drift off first (he's tried not to, but he does), and after a while of drinking in the peaceful visage of his partner beside him, zhongli would follow after him.
it seems idyllic until it's time to wake up. childe should have learned that by now.
it's a golden morning in liyue, there are birds outside, etc etc. they're in zhongli's home this time, and sometime during the night, zhongli had the sense to pull the covers over their naked bodies. whenever childe wakes up, he'll see zhongli asleep beside him as always, long hair strung on his pillow and under his cheek. on the side of his neck, the riptide mark glows a fluorescent blue-white within a circle of teethmarks, pocked with dried gold. even as a human, he still seems to breathe deeply like a great, slumbering beast.
[It's rare for Childe to have somewhere he can sleep peacefully.
In truth, it's only here. Tucked against Zhongli's side, wrapped in his arms, or even just in Zhongli's bed, the scent and texture more than familiar by now. The wilderness doesn't bring him peace--he enjoys the constant risks, but that doesn't make them restful. Visits home, too, require a constant guard, though a different kind: the façade of "Ajax," a temporary discomfort to spare his parents his true self. Occasional visits to the Traveler's abode are probably the closest thing he has to this level of comfort, but even then, he's usually not the only person there. And no matter how much the Traveler trusts their companions, Childe's long past the point of being able to sleep deeply around strangers. Before Zhongli, he'd assumed he lost the ability altogether.
It doesn't work every time. There are some nights, still, where nightmares win out--nights when even Zhongli's warm, steady hands can't ease the tension from his shoulders. There are nights when sleep simply doesn't come, and Childe talks quietly with Zhongli until the first rays of dawn reassure him that yes, this is reality. But by now, more often than not, Childe's instincts have come to understand that Zhongli's presence is trustworthy. That beautiful, loving, attentive Zhongli, who knows so much about him and yet, inexplicably, continues to stay, is a promise of safety without the fear of a stifling cage.
(It helps that Zhongli can thoroughly wear him out, too.)
Despite all of this, Childe tends to wake first. He's never really asked why--Zhongli's sleeping habits have piqued his curiosity before, but he's usually been distracted by other bed-related things--but he savors it anyway. Today is no exception. His eyes flutter open, and awareness comes slowly, then all at once; his gaze, dark and sleepy, catches on the glow from his mark, and he can feel himself smiling before his mind even properly registers what he's looking at.
He remembers falling asleep halfway on top of Zhongli, his face pressed against Zhongli's shoulder; at some point, he'd apparently shifted off, but he can still feel Zhongli's arm slung around his waist, and his own leg is still thrown halfway over Zhongli. They probably would've overheated if Childe didn't run cold.
Technically, he's got work to do today. Nothing intense--by now, the Fatui stationed here are well aware that Childe's "jobs" here are little more than flimsy excuses for extended visits--but it would still probably reflect poorly if he didn't make an appearance at a reasonable hour. Still, he can't bring himself to rush when Zhongli looks so comfortable. So beautiful, especially in the golden Liyue sun, stripped of his guises.
Really, he should know better. They've done this enough that he should be more than aware of just how hard it is to wake Zhongli up--or worse, to wriggle out of Zhongli's grip when he's feeling clingy. What he should be doing is setting about the arduous task of trying to get Zhongli out of bed, which will probably take approximately a century. But Childe is weak to the sight of him, and not for the first time, he finds himself giving in to the urge to linger and indulge. He slides his fingers up, tracing over his marks first--both physical and elemental--then further, up Zhongli's jaw and past his ear, to brush his hair out of his face.
[ first, childe's fingertips rouse a prickling cold against his neck, dispersing hydro like ripples in water until the riptide mark glows a faint, luminescent blue. zhongli is drawn into a hazy consciousness, aware enough to feel the slide of fingertips up his jaw, running up the edge of his face before curling around the shell of his ear. his own hair slips after it, tickling and full of errant threads, until it's neatly tucked away.
zhongli's yellow eyes slowly blink open, and over the streams of earthen hair over the pillow beside him, there's a blur of familiar colors: ochre, light peach, two smudges of azure. his heart begins to stir, an old clock slowly turning its well-worn cogs; leagues ahead of his ancient memory, it knows that these are the colors that make up the face of his greatest love. his soulmate is the warm and softly breathing weight under the curl of his arm, skin softened from sleep under slanted morning light, smiling at him with affection that reaches fathoms deep. zhongli, who's chosen to shamelessly indulge in his hedonistic pleasures, collects it like irresistible gold.
his tired eyes fall at half-mast, caught between never waking and holding that loving gaze (this could be a dream, after all) until they finally fall closed. he tilts his head until his lips brush childe's wrist, pressing a gentle, lazy kiss to his pulse. then zhongli tightens his arm like a cat curling in its sleep, drawing childe's body flush against his by the waist.
zhongli gently meets his forehead to childe's, turning his nose in towards the pillow. he breathes a heavy sigh from the depths of his lungs, underlaid with a low, contented hum from his throat. he takes in the scent of their sex, the clean pillow, the soap of childe's hair that he can never resist. mornings like these are the sweetest to savor, he's embarrassingly said at least once. in his sleep-addled mind, forgetting any circumstance or motivations that keep them apart, he thinks: let him live here for the rest of his days.
childe will feel something familiar slowly coil over his knee. first, there are the whorls of fur, snaking through empty pockets between the comforter and his leg. second, the warm run of scales, stones softened by a river floor. it doesn't stop until it's curled once around his calf, heavy and solid as a boulder.
Childe makes a small noise as Zhongli drags him closer again, stifling a laugh. It's extremely tempting to slide his legs back through Zhongli's, to tangle their bodies together again and give in to the urge to doze off again. Childe has enough willpower to resist, but before he can, he feels Zhongli's tail sneaking up, locking him in place even more securely than his arms do.
What a spoiled old dragon, Childe thinks, with no small amount of fondness. Truly, they both indulge each other far too often. No wonder everyone hates it when Childe is in town--he's a terrible influence, in the sense that he encourages Zhongli to be as selfish as he wants.
(Not that he has any delusions over how much Zhongli spoils him too, of course. Even now, it warms him--makes him feel just a little shy, something he didn't think he was still capable of.)
Of course, all that indulgence has come back to bite him now, because he is TRAPPED, even if his prison is extremely pleasant.]
Xiaaaansheng. [He drags the syllables out like honey, rich with amusement. His tone is a low murmur, and he leans close enough to speak against Zhongli's lips, a breath away from kissing him back awake.] It's morning.
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the ship carried a gaggle of elegantly-dresses passengers, done up for an event held by the tianquan herself. high-ranking officials and leaders from different parts of teyvat—including one guest—were invited to take part in the hopes of establishing safer, better trade routes and governance. the attire was to be fanciful, the food gourmet, with music and entertainment to match. everything would be perfect, just as the tianquan would have it. (even her date, who was obviously uncomfortable and irritated in her red gown and high, black boots. this isn't her type of crowd. and there was no ale.)
one guest of honor was an official from fontaine and his wife, who ningguang was especially looking forward to conversing with. there were others who looked to do the same—not excluding members of the fatui, or even the abyss order. fontaine residents, let alone members of their governing body, didn't visit liyue often.
childe, of course, was sent as one such representative for the fatui. when the traveler declined to be his date for the evening—where their reputation might have come in handy as a liaison into the official's good graces—childe opted for the next best thing. or person. or ex-god.
that's why zhongli is aboard, straying from childe's side to walk the perimeter of the ship, surveying the view of the harbor beside it. he's wearing a more formal outfit than his wangsheng parlor leisurewear, his hair coiffed a little more neatly, though his jewelry and cosmetics are the same as always. other passengers recognize him and greet him, and they share brief conversations before they move along, leaving him to his sightseeing.
childe will notice he's gone soon. he's interested in the other passengers and news of fontaine, surely, but they have the rest of the evening for that. until then, he'll enjoy the scenery. ]
please forgive my 357628356 words of set-up I am so sorry HELP 1/2
(Privately, Childe suspects Ningguang is far more interested in ruining the Northland Bank than in anything to do with him, an idea that is only cemented by her permitting his attendance tonight. Really, he can't help admiring her, even if he much prefers the company of her companion.)
Regardless of the reasoning, though, the fact remains that Childe was not banished or executed--only restationed, carried on ocean currents and the whims of Her Majesty. The trip to Inazuma had done him good; traversing the Onmyouji Chamber with the Traveler had felt like nothing short of a luxury vacation, temporarily soothing the itch for violence ever-present in his blood. It was refreshing enough that he doesn't even really complain when he's ordered to stop back in Liyue for his least favorite type of assignment. Schmoozing is boring on a good day, but even more so when he absolutely must be on his best behavior.
Well--okay, technically he doesn't have to be. But Childe's Mora barely curries favor in Liyue these days, and he's smart enough not to smash his boot through thin ice. So behaving himself it is.
Zhongli's presence... helps. In a number of ways, really. The Traveler is a hero, yes, but Zhongli is the clear embodiment of Liyue's finest principles. The respect his people have for him is personal, and it means they're mostly willing to hold their tongues on his choice of company, no matter how ill-advised they may think it. (And regardless of the Fatui's current disgrace, a number of patrons on board have done business with them in the past, and will certainly do so in the future. Smoke, mirrors, and a farce of righteousness, every last bit of it.)
But it isn't just practical to have Zhongli with him. Childe won't say it, but... he'd missed this. Spending time together, the illusion of simplicity.
He's well aware that the Traveler does not truly consider him a friend. It's part of the reason they have his trust in the first place. But the fact remains that, setting aside the tenuous relationship he has with them--the closest thing to friendship he's had since the Abyss... remains the days he spent with Zhongli.]
okay I'm done 2/2
He should be making his way to the couple from Fontaine. He should be plying some old associates with wine and conversation, subtle payment for information his men could use. He should be doing anything other than letting his gaze wander over the crowd until he catches sight of Zhongli--and he should definitely not just hang back and watch him quietly, for no reason other than the pleasure of looking at him.
(Well. At least it helps sell the idea that they're "close", right?)
For a little while, he tears his gaze away and forces himself to focus. But eventually, he notices how far Zhongli's wandered, and he excuses himself from his conversation without giving it much thought. Harbinger perks: doing your job however you want.
He's dressed up too, tonight. Pure whites and rich blues befitting of his status in Her Majesty's court, but not a direct proclamation of his position as a Harbinger. It would be difficult to move stealthily in such finery, but not impossible--but he harbors no delusions about Rex Lapis's intuition, and he has no reason to sneak up on him anyway. His steps are quiet out of habit, but he doesn't try to disguise his presence as he rejoins Zhongli.]
So quick to flee? [It's light, teasing, and he pairs his words with the gentle nudge of his elbow. He'd left his overcoat with an attendant earlier, and even in one of his nicest outfits, he feels a little underdressed beside Zhongli--but then, he supposes that's par for the course for them anyway.]
PLEASE I'M IN LOVE W THESE TAGS!!!
for now, zhongli enjoyed his spot on the periphery of the crowds dappling the deck of the ship. he's seen millennia of human interactions in his lifetime, and while teyvat's civilizations had advanced in their structures, technologies, and studies, the interactions between mortals were cyclical. he could guess the politics surrounding the cliques simply by looking. he would not interrupt unless he deemed it necessary; he abandoned all authority to do so for a reason, and the tianquan could certainly handle the situation herself.
few of those humans had come to surprise him, a god that had survived them for so many years. one was the traveler, who was not of their world. the second was within one of those scattered cadres, clad in white and blue hues accentuating a nest of orange hair.
he had received childe's invitation aboard the ship by letter, testifying to the fact that childe kept track of his whereabouts. it came with the outfit he wore now, courtesy of the northland bank. before childe parted for inazume, the two met with regular frequency in liyue harbor, drinking and talking and perusing the town. after a long period of separation, they only briefly met before boarding the ship.
childe was waiting at the docks, his hands slipped into his pockets. his profile was outlined by the shining ocean behind him, and his blue eyes were settled onto the edge of liyue's mountains, for once betraying a feeling of anticipation and nerves. zhongli felt a pull in his chest, like a drawstring bag wrung tight. he felt longing before, thousands of years ago. the feeling was almost unfamiliar as it reared its head again, a great animal woken from what should have been an eternal slumber.
he made no show of it, deciding to dissect the feeling when time would allow. he had yet to do so even after his eyes trailed off to find his "date" within the crowd. there was something different about this night, which felt so unlike any other rendezvous they've had before. multiple times, he would catch childe's gaze resting on him from the corner of his eye. they hadn't even properly spoken yet. a selfish part of zhongli willed him to come and jape, to seat them at a table and share a drink and ignore the rabble surrounding them.
from where he stood, zhongli could see the smoke of wanmin restaurant's crackling ovens, the open seats of their usual table at third round knockout, the slope of chihu rock down into the harbor where fishermen were bringing in their catch. it was beautiful, and zhongli wished he were there instead—in his home, with childe.
finally, he could hear the familiar footsteps of his companion come to his side. he turns to meet him, one arm resting on the banister. again, he feels that gentle tug as he studies childe's face. he looks back out again to golden, glowing city as night settles over the sky. ]
It's been a long time since I've been able to see Liyue Harbor from such a distance. [ not since he was able to fly, probably. ] I was taking in the sight while I still can.
[ he looks back at childe, a smile quirking at the edge of his mouth. ]
There's no room to flee aboard a ship in the middle of the ocean. Not without diving in. Waterlogging these clothes would be a poor way to thank you for giving them to me.
FJHDSKGH GRIPS UR HANDS AND SWINGS THEM
[The playful implication, of course, being that he wouldn't let Zhongli (or his clothes) get wet, as if there's any world in which Zhongli would ever actually jump ship in the first place.
It's true, though, that the ocean is calm tonight, the ship carried on gentle waters that glitter with starlight. It's a lovely view, and he doesn't blame Zhongli in the slightest for abandoning the monotony of high society etiquette to gaze out upon it. Especially when they both know he's indulging Childe in this whole endeavor anyway, no matter what Childe said about "penance".
(He does not think about how much brighter Zhongli's eyes look out here, contrasted against the deep blue of the sky and the sea. He doesn't. He does not.)
He's quiet for a moment, then, considering. What does "a long time" mean to Zhongli, anyway? A hundred years? A thousand? Childe serves directly under his Tsaritsa, but he would never ask her such a casual thing, and she's much younger than Zhongli besides. He doesn't ask Zhongli either, but that's because they aren't alone, and such a question would hardly be discreet.
Instead, he wonders:]
...Is it uncomfortable for you? Being off land.
[He knows Zhongli's been on boats before, of course. (He had not been happy to hear about Kliment.) But it's something he's never considered until now--the god of Geo, removed from his element. Or does he find stability deeper down, in the sands of the ocean floor? Could he--
--no, best not to wonder like that right now. The last thing he needs is a craving for a fight that he won't get.]
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[ that's another way to read it—that by "handling these waters," childe would be the one to escort him back to the marina. zhongli's smile raises on both corners of his mouth before it gently, naturally fades.
childe is quiet for a moment then, surveying him. zhongli waits for him, almost prompted to speak up first before he's asked his question. zhongli considers it too, drawing in a deep breath. ]
It's true that the smell of the sea rouses memories that I'd rather forget. Fortunately it's not unbearable.
[ so many evil little squids. so many houses. that terrible smell. childe already knows his pest extermination story, though he's slowly been exposing himself to seafood again through walks in the harbor. (it was strange to passers-by when he would walk large circles around the seafood vendors.) ]
But no, I'm not uncomfortable. Even the ocean rests on a bed of sediments.
[ don't try anything though, childe.
he pauses another moment, briefly weighing the consequences of being honest. when childe watches his eyes this way, it's difficult not to be. ]
Degui asked after you during your venture to Inazuma. [ he turns his eyes back to liyue. ] We'll have to pay him a visit once this charade ends.
[ he's met with old friends after long stretches of time before. what made the distance between himself and childe feel so endless then, when he was away? ]
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I'm so glad I iconed all the chibi stickers yesterday
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you can assume zhongli takes him to another room idk this is too long and i rewrote it a bunch
LMKSJDGHKH both of us watching our tags spiral out of control
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childe's ecchi belt thread
on this day, the crux glided seamlessly into port, floating on the swirling bed of steam rising from the waves. the sky was cloudless and parched, the blue seeming more infinitesimal in the heat. the sun sat high in the air—the blazing, glaring, white-gold eye of an unforgiving god.
beidou slapped childe on the back as he crossed the deck to the docks. (she disregarded the fact that childe probably felt a little weaker under damp, wet heat.) she told him good luck out there and turned back to her crew, ponytail whipping behind her.
the next trip by boat out of the harbor wouldn't be leaving for four more days. it was too late to change course or find another ship to carry him to fontaine. renting a sailboat also wasn't a sustainable option.
beyond anyone's understanding, zhongli was still in his loungewear as he waited for childe from the docks. or part of it, anyway. he'd shed his overcoats, leaving him in his grey button-up shirt, his tie, his gloves, his slacks and shoes. his face shone with sweat and his hair stuck to his temples. when childe came within earshot, he said, If you'd announced your arrival to me earlier, I might have been able to warn you.
they're here now, sitting in a private room at yanshang tea house. it offers some cool respite from the heat; it's better than eating outdoors. the two are seated at the table at the center of the room, a spread of cold foods laid in front of them. their shoes are crowded by the door; zhongli has since rolled up his sleeves and occasionally dabs the sweat from his forehead with a napkin. sweat gathers in dark stains behind his neck, in the middle of his back, near his collarbone and the crease where his shirt meets his trousers. he's also inexplicably drinking hot tea.
they're conversing about the events in inazuma, but zhongli can't help the way his eyes dip towards the front of childe's shirt. he's been awkwardly shifting since they sat down. ]
Are you not uncomfortable, wearing that?
[ the harness. he can see the sweat clearly outlining it. ]
the pining adds Flavor 1/2
"Almost" had been the key word, apparently. He'd discovered as much when he'd been summoned back to his motherland, ice settling back into his bones with comfortable familiarity. But that, too, had been fleeting; the Tsaritsa does not take the loss of her chosen lightly, and the chill of her grief had clung to him even as he'd set sail back to Inazuma once more. It had made his heart ache for her, but it had also been a deadly reminder: they could not fail their ultimate mission. She would not survive it, and neither would anyone else.
There was, of course, nothing to be found--the intel from their spies at the Irodori festival had been all there was to know. With Dottore in charge of Sumeru for the time being, there was little to do but wait for their quarry to resurface; in the meantime, Childe had his own business to attend to, nothing so pressing that he couldn't take the long way to his next destination.
Quite simply, he misses Liyue. He's traveled all over the world, but there's something undeniably special about the harbor. Putting the city in danger had been an acceptable risk, and it's a decision he'd make again, if needed--but he's glad there was no true risk of decimation, even if he'd sacrificed the freedom to exist without scrutiny and hatred in pursuit of his goal.
Ah, well. The warm kindness had been nice while it lasted.
But he's Fatui, so the shift in attitude is nothing new. And more importantly, it doesn't stop Beidou from letting him catch a ride in exchange for helping out around the ship. It means he gets his scenic detour--and it means he pens a letter on a whim, one that starts with Dearest xiansheng.
(He misses Zhongli too. Zhongli is Liyue. But those are sentiments that will never be put to paper.)]
2/2
He had not, however, accounted for the weather.
Forgetting the cold of his home--in truth, that was impossible. No Snezhnayan went anywhere without the memory of ice and snow close to their hearts. But forgetting the sticky, unbearable weight of a Liyuen heat wave? That, apparently, was extremely possible.
Childe isn't one for layers; stripping off his jacket and shoving up his sleeves is the best he can do, and it brings him no relief. It's an unpleasant surprise to find that the leather of his weapons harness doesn't fare well in the sun either; the metal, too, feels like it's bypassed his shirt entirely to burn his skin. The ocean breeze does nothing to combat the direct, relentless summer sun; Childe had wilted out at sea so badly, Beidou had taken pity on him and shooed him off to the shade until they arrived at the port.
By then, he'd decided he does not, in fact, need a vacation in Liyue.
Seeing Zhongli again is blessedly distracting--his smile is genuine, and he finds enough energy to wave as he hops off the ship, despite the fact that he knows he must look a little pathetic. He gratefully follows Zhongli to the teahouse, and spends a good 10 minutes simply sprawled in his chair, relishing the shade and regaining the will to live.
It's a shame, really. He wants very badly appreciate seeing Zhongli like this--even now, his eyes can't help straying to Zhongli's arms, like he can't quite believe they're actually exposed. The sight of him sweaty and ever-so-slightly disheveled is something he'll store away for another time.
For now, though, Childe focuses on restricting his own movements, doing his best to minimize the damage to his body. The question makes him grimace--it's not hard to know what Zhongli's looking at, and he looks down, too, rubbing a finger along the edge of the harness.]
In this weather, wearing anything at all is uncomfortable. [Well, at least his humor is still good.] I'm not sure I can get this off normally anymore, though. I'll probably have to get one of my agents to cut it off later... it's a shame, too. This leather was from my hometown.
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each time, zhongli's eyes will precariously wander to the straps over his chest and shoulders, wondering what it could possibly be used for, where the metal clasps were that childe would unbuckle when he took it off.... and let's not forget the window of childe's stomach drawn even more open than usual, free to peel further open as it pleases. needless to say, zhongli's attention is sometimes more divided than usual when this happens, especially when his head is buzzing pleasantly with drink.
that's not happening right now, but his eye follows childe's gloved finger sliding along the belt's edge. he sets his cup down blindly, his eyes slipping to the leather straps, the near-imperceptible and swirling designs native to snezhnaya. his eyes soften slightly, and he looks again at those metal buckles that he's mapped out so well already. ]
It would be a shame. Perhaps I can help.
[ he repeats it, and then he offers out his hand, gestured towards the straps. ]
May I?
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When he turns back, his face is ever-so-slightly flushed. Man, what uncomfortable weather.]
Sorry, uh. I mean, if you want to, but it's not really that important. [He tries to shrug, but it backfires, and he winces slightly at his own movement.] I can always order a new one.
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1/3 smdh
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that icon
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the way I wrote this whole tag and then closed my browser and lost it
NOOO THE WORST
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we can timeskip or drop this!! next time childe wears the harness it's on sight
TFLN
Well, of course. But he thinks his reasons for that are obvious, so he doesn't comment on it.]
Are you worried I put one on with you?
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I only worry that you may not seek out assistance when needed, even from those who care for you.
[ specifically from zhongli. ]
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See? Fussy
[But it's (affectionate), even if he doesn't specify. And if Zhongli's being sincere then he will be too.]
I don't need it as much as you might think, xiansheng. But I don't mind it from you. You can check in on me whenever you'd like.
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Thank you. That alone puts me more at ease.
[ to be honest. he would have done that anyway. but it's always nice to have permission and to be acknowledged. ]
I can only hope that when I ask, you will answer me honestly.
I wish for you to feel safe with me.
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archon reincarnation idiots-to-lovers(?) extravaganza 1/2
That's the first thing Forneus noticed, back when he'd arrived in these waters. It's been a long time since then--longer still since he'd left his homeland. Even so, he remembers so clearly where he came into existence: Sheets of ice, frozen waves, and creatures larger than anything the people of Liyue could possibly imagine drifting through the lightless depths. Sometimes it still catches him off-guard, how the winds of Yaoguang Shoal tousle his hair instead of slicing his skin. How the shells of Liyue's beaches sing so sweetly, sparkling in the sun. It so rarely gets truly cold in these vast lands rich with Geo. If it weren't for the fact that he can travel with speed and ease, Forneus suspects he would miss the snow.
Ah--but he's claimed another name, that's right. "Ajax," something he'd plucked from the waters of Byakuyakoku. (He's claimed some of those Liyuen shells, too, but that hardly counts when he keeps them tucked away in a cove near the beaches they came from.)
He's a bit like a magpie, or so he's been told. "That's just another name for a thief," Beelzebul had pointed out at the time, but he'd just found it funny. Why take offense? It's not the gods' fault that so many of them are bound to their territories, reluctant to venture too far in restless times. If they could see, as he can, just how vast the world is, he's certain they would want to collect bits and pieces of it too, no matter how many wars have erupted between them.
But for all that his fellow gods consider him odd, he's begun to understand them. He never used to stay in one place--why would he, when saltwater touches anywhere and everywhere? The rivers, the lakes, the inland waters, those he leaves to their own deities, but the seas... It would have been terribly remiss of him, as their god, to leave them unexplored.
Liyue has changed him, though. It's different. Liyue has never stopped him from leaving as his whims take him, but... for the first time, Ajax has found somewhere that calls him back.
For the first time, he's found reasons to stay.
So, he has. Morax is... not exactly the most gracious of gods, sometimes, but he's permitted Ajax to claim the lands near the Shoal. Privately, Ajax suspects he's relieved to share the burden of watching over so many regions--Morax has no shortage of allies, but he has even more enemies. The Shoal, Mingyun Village, and the parts of Vindagnyr Barbatos doesn't pay attention to are a small price to pay for Ajax's--no, Forneus's allegiance.]
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...Okay, that's not true. But Ajax doesn't count the times he's provoked Morax into it, and Morax--despite his apparent confusion--has continued to indulge him, so, really. It's fine.
(And if he wonders, sometimes, about the nights when he feels Morax standing on his shores in quiet contemplation, apparently drawing peace from the sound of his gentler waves; about the moments that stern visage cracks, just enough to let mirth, warmth, and light through; about the way Morax always seems a little more focused, a little more at ease after their sparring matches--if he wonders, then he keeps it to himself.)
He's banking on those indulgences again today, as he forms a bow and arrow from water and aims in Morax's direction. From this high up on the cliffs, he can see much farther than a human could; just as Morax, he suspects, has probably already noticed him. But that's fine; Ajax isn't often inconspicuous, and he's in a mood besides. This small stretch of peaceful days won't last. Osial has been at his doorstep far too often for comfort lately, and Ajax's patience is wearing thin over it, but he doesn't want to ask for aid. He can handle it. Osial, after all, has not yet earned a gnosis, and he probably never will--Ajax is at a disadvantage when it comes to Osial's affinities, but he isn't so concerned that he can't take a day for himself.
And "a day for himself" means riling up Morax, provoking him into a spar as he so loves to do. He aims a little bit higher, then looses the arrow, watching with interest to see if it strikes true. Sometimes Barbatos knocks his arrows off-course for fun; other times, he's on Ajax's side, and they hassle Morax together. But Barbatos isn't visiting today--this shot is all on Ajax.]
1/3? maybe
his eyes were on the floor, where larger stalactites were once crushed into sand. on its surface, unfamiliar footprints led in and out of the cave. pieces of blue and white shell dappled parts of the ground, likely caught in the tide and rushed down against the rocks.
high tide happened in the morning, he knew. these footprints can't be more than a few hours old.
when the newly-christened anemo archon floated down beside him, morax didn't turn to look.
i see we have a visitor, said barbatos, lacing his fingers and propping them under his chin, intrigued.
liyue has a visitor, morax corrected. two now, in fact. neither of you arrived by invitation.
you can be such dull company sometimes. barbatos pouted. i only wanted to surprise a friend. you're lucky that i came when i did, in fact. what if i have some valuable information about your new squatter, hm?
morax agreed to procuring a jug of guili assembly's finest wine to give to barbatos. in exchange, barbatos divulged what he knew of the stranger. as he flew over yaoguang shoal that morning, he saw another god rise out of the ocean. this one also had a humanoid vessel, with the physique of a warrior, auburn hair, and ocean eyes that glowed as he tamed the waters around him. barbatos camped on a nearby cliff and watched the stranger slip out of the ocean and onto the beach. boringly (barbatos said) he did nothing but explore—but he did pick up an unbroken starconch. he examined it, listened to it, and held it carefully in his hand as he walked along the shore. he even dipped into the lands surrounding it.
eventually they find it: a long, smooth rock with small treasures from liyue. barbatos remarks on how kind of adorable it is. morax says nothing and turns to leave. it'll all be taken by the waters from an oncoming storm anyway.
liyue isn't new to sea gods or monsters. by morax's order, if these beasts caused substantial damage to liyue, they would quickly be disposed of.
when they finally meet, it isn't long before forneus's platitudes dissolved into the challenge he was looking for. morax, stone-faced as ever, calmly accepted.
don't hold back, forneus said, his smile teetering on the edge of lunacy. it's a look morax would never forget. i won't either.
at the end of the fight, forneus lay on his side, bleeding out a shallow puddle of pure and glittering blue. his fingers gently curled and released in his palms, and his chest heaved as he gulped for air like a fish out of water. one wide, blue eye stared back at morax, watching for any minuscule move against him as if he could respond in the first place.
morax stood over him, solid and imposing. the end of his glowing spear pointed at forneus's cheek.
he remembered his defeat of the chi near mt. qingce: flesh torn from bones, soul split from the open ribcage, spirit strangled into silence, the rain of blood over bishui plains as the parts were scattered to their graves.
this is how you kill a sea god for good. and he has killed before, plenty of times. he killed beings much more dear to him than this stranger.
he remembered the cave—the carefully laid starconches, perfectly in tact.
morax turned and departed without a word. he left a wordless demand: forneus was alive by his mercy. he should return to snezhnaya, or fontaine, anywhere far from liyue. next time, he won't be so lucky.
except.
the very next day, forneus found him again. he shot through the skies like a diving sparrow, headed straight for him. his blades were crossed over his chest, his orange hair blowed behind him, and his deep blue eyes were almost bright as stars. forneus shouted his name and laughed with mad delight before those blades met the shaft of morax's polearm, sending sparks where they collided.
morax hardly ever makes mistakes. this was one of the first.
they spar a few times before forneus—ajax, he learned—was permitted to keep yaoguang shoal and minyun village so long as he honored the terms of morax's contract. if you are the cause of any harm to liyue, he said, eyes burning yellow, i will kill you without hesitation.
ajax seemed almost dangerously excited by the threat. morax corrected himself and said that they would no longer do battle at all. that quickly ended the conversation. ]
2/3 oops
of course, the spars continued, though morax denied them most of the time. during one battle, barbatos even caught him smiling. another mistake.
he never let morax forget it. he needled him in private, asking him if it meant something that a stone-faced buffoon like morax was enjoying himself when he was with ajax.
morax said that there was an unknown intruder near qingce, and they would need to act swiftly.
he and ajax have their moments. morax, knowing better, let's his guard gently loosen. ajax would interact with the residents of the village or the people of guili with ease and friendliness. he learned their customs and followed them carefully. he was unendingly loyal, surprisingly thoughtful, almost human in his attempts to connect.
occasionally they would stand at a cliff or mountaintop, two beasts simply watching the sun pass over liyue. morax would hear him say something profound, or he would show genuine admiration and warmth toward liyue. morax's eyes would surreptitiously slide over to him, and he would watch ajax close his eyes and let the warm sun press to his face. the breeze always made his hair tousle and shine. his eyelashes were brown, not black. he wore an easygoing smile much of the time, but there was a serenity to it that he only rarely showed.
ajax fought against creatures that threatened their home. he would keep liyue safe, which was most important of all.
morax knew this deep within him. the thought brought him back to the shoal again and again, quietly walking the length of the beach or standing and overlooking the waves. they lapped over his feet, bubbling as the water rose over his ankles. then they were drawn back into the ocean, away from him.
morax remembered the cove near yaoguang shoal. he thought of ajax and closed his eyes. he waited for the sound of his voice above the roar of the sea. ]
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when ajax aims his arrow at morax's back, morax only seems preoccupied. ajax will be happy to see the arrow fly dangerously close, it's getting there, just a second until it hits—
in the blink of an eye, morax turns and catches the arrow in his glowing fist, the tail of his hair whipping behind him. the shaft burns his palm a little, but he looks entirely unfazed. maybe even bored.
a stele erupts from the ground underneath ajax's feet. he's launched quickly into the air and sails towards a cluster of sandbearer trees a little further down the cliff.
better luck next time! ]
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It's a strong retaliation, because Morax, for all that he tolerates Ajax's games, is not one for lenience. In Ajax's (admittedly biased) opinion, he doesn't typically use more force than needed, but neither does he pull his punches. He attacks with perfect precision, and Ajax delights in it. For someone so tied to the waters that define him, there is a joy in the reminder that this form is tangible enough to be struck.
So he laughs as he goes flying, effervescent. It's a simple task to call up the water and let it envelop him, and he uses the trees to redirect his trajectory, sailing towards Morax. Unhindered by gravity, though Ajax suspects it's less that he's meant to be able to do this, and more that the forces that created him didn't realize they'd have to stop him from trying.
Landing on his feet next to Morax probably would've been the smart thing to do, especially since he does want to chat. But how is that fun? He's had countless foes to slay recently, sure, but that's a necessity. That's his duty, what he swore to do--not Morax's divine contract, but the promise he made to the people.
There is so much life within the depths of the ocean, beyond what he could even begin to describe to those who can't witness it themselves. It isn't life that makes the humans special. It's that humans are the only land creatures who have ever tried to brave the raging tides. The only ones who have gazed upon him from afar and reached out toward the horizon. And Ajax will do anything to keep that adventurous spirit alive.
So he fights. For them, he fights. He enjoys it, too, even when it frustrates him on a larger scale. But that's not fun, the way sparring with Morax is. All this to say--
No, he does not land neatly on his feet beside Morax. Instead, he lets his water bubble burst when he's merely a few feet away, revealing the watery spear in his hand. He doesn't hold back as he lunges for Morax, since, well. He made quite a conspicuous sight, sailing over the cliffs in a great glittering sphere like he did. Even a godling would be prepared to block this strike, and Ajax isn't counting on landing a hit so much as engaging in a spar in earnest with the first blow.]
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his water leggy 🥺💞
I had to do it!!!
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zhongli's sleepy bitch disease
the mortal zhongli has gotten very good at sleeping. it was a novelty like any other mortal experience he'd indulged in. if he was going to play his part, he would commit to the role entirely, whether or not anyone was watching him. that night on the ocean's pearl, he finally found an audience.
childe didn't visit often, and when he did, the two of them usually gave into their appetites for as long as they reasonably could. they would only consider sleep in the early hours of the morning while they laid in bed, spent and satisfied, pillow talking. childe would drift off first (he's tried not to, but he does), and after a while of drinking in the peaceful visage of his partner beside him, zhongli would follow after him.
it seems idyllic until it's time to wake up. childe should have learned that by now.
it's a golden morning in liyue, there are birds outside, etc etc. they're in zhongli's home this time, and sometime during the night, zhongli had the sense to pull the covers over their naked bodies. whenever childe wakes up, he'll see zhongli asleep beside him as always, long hair strung on his pillow and under his cheek. on the side of his neck, the riptide mark glows a fluorescent blue-white within a circle of teethmarks, pocked with dried gold. even as a human, he still seems to breathe deeply like a great, slumbering beast.
he won't wake up easily. good luck, childe. ]
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In truth, it's only here. Tucked against Zhongli's side, wrapped in his arms, or even just in Zhongli's bed, the scent and texture more than familiar by now. The wilderness doesn't bring him peace--he enjoys the constant risks, but that doesn't make them restful. Visits home, too, require a constant guard, though a different kind: the façade of "Ajax," a temporary discomfort to spare his parents his true self. Occasional visits to the Traveler's abode are probably the closest thing he has to this level of comfort, but even then, he's usually not the only person there. And no matter how much the Traveler trusts their companions, Childe's long past the point of being able to sleep deeply around strangers. Before Zhongli, he'd assumed he lost the ability altogether.
It doesn't work every time. There are some nights, still, where nightmares win out--nights when even Zhongli's warm, steady hands can't ease the tension from his shoulders. There are nights when sleep simply doesn't come, and Childe talks quietly with Zhongli until the first rays of dawn reassure him that yes, this is reality. But by now, more often than not, Childe's instincts have come to understand that Zhongli's presence is trustworthy. That beautiful, loving, attentive Zhongli, who knows so much about him and yet, inexplicably, continues to stay, is a promise of safety without the fear of a stifling cage.
(It helps that Zhongli can thoroughly wear him out, too.)
Despite all of this, Childe tends to wake first. He's never really asked why--Zhongli's sleeping habits have piqued his curiosity before, but he's usually been distracted by other bed-related things--but he savors it anyway. Today is no exception. His eyes flutter open, and awareness comes slowly, then all at once; his gaze, dark and sleepy, catches on the glow from his mark, and he can feel himself smiling before his mind even properly registers what he's looking at.
He remembers falling asleep halfway on top of Zhongli, his face pressed against Zhongli's shoulder; at some point, he'd apparently shifted off, but he can still feel Zhongli's arm slung around his waist, and his own leg is still thrown halfway over Zhongli. They probably would've overheated if Childe didn't run cold.
Technically, he's got work to do today. Nothing intense--by now, the Fatui stationed here are well aware that Childe's "jobs" here are little more than flimsy excuses for extended visits--but it would still probably reflect poorly if he didn't make an appearance at a reasonable hour. Still, he can't bring himself to rush when Zhongli looks so comfortable. So beautiful, especially in the golden Liyue sun, stripped of his guises.
Really, he should know better. They've done this enough that he should be more than aware of just how hard it is to wake Zhongli up--or worse, to wriggle out of Zhongli's grip when he's feeling clingy. What he should be doing is setting about the arduous task of trying to get Zhongli out of bed, which will probably take approximately a century. But Childe is weak to the sight of him, and not for the first time, he finds himself giving in to the urge to linger and indulge. He slides his fingers up, tracing over his marks first--both physical and elemental--then further, up Zhongli's jaw and past his ear, to brush his hair out of his face.
Surely he will not come to regret this...!]
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zhongli's yellow eyes slowly blink open, and over the streams of earthen hair over the pillow beside him, there's a blur of familiar colors: ochre, light peach, two smudges of azure. his heart begins to stir, an old clock slowly turning its well-worn cogs; leagues ahead of his ancient memory, it knows that these are the colors that make up the face of his greatest love. his soulmate is the warm and softly breathing weight under the curl of his arm, skin softened from sleep under slanted morning light, smiling at him with affection that reaches fathoms deep. zhongli, who's chosen to shamelessly indulge in his hedonistic pleasures, collects it like irresistible gold.
his tired eyes fall at half-mast, caught between never waking and holding that loving gaze (this could be a dream, after all) until they finally fall closed. he tilts his head until his lips brush childe's wrist, pressing a gentle, lazy kiss to his pulse. then zhongli tightens his arm like a cat curling in its sleep, drawing childe's body flush against his by the waist.
zhongli gently meets his forehead to childe's, turning his nose in towards the pillow. he breathes a heavy sigh from the depths of his lungs, underlaid with a low, contented hum from his throat. he takes in the scent of their sex, the clean pillow, the soap of childe's hair that he can never resist. mornings like these are the sweetest to savor, he's embarrassingly said at least once. in his sleep-addled mind, forgetting any circumstance or motivations that keep them apart, he thinks: let him live here for the rest of his days.
childe will feel something familiar slowly coil over his knee. first, there are the whorls of fur, snaking through empty pockets between the comforter and his leg. second, the warm run of scales, stones softened by a river floor. it doesn't stop until it's curled once around his calf, heavy and solid as a boulder.
congrats! childe is now trapped. ]
blows dust off of this
Aaaaaaand there he goes.
Childe makes a small noise as Zhongli drags him closer again, stifling a laugh. It's extremely tempting to slide his legs back through Zhongli's, to tangle their bodies together again and give in to the urge to doze off again. Childe has enough willpower to resist, but before he can, he feels Zhongli's tail sneaking up, locking him in place even more securely than his arms do.
What a spoiled old dragon, Childe thinks, with no small amount of fondness. Truly, they both indulge each other far too often. No wonder everyone hates it when Childe is in town--he's a terrible influence, in the sense that he encourages Zhongli to be as selfish as he wants.
(Not that he has any delusions over how much Zhongli spoils him too, of course. Even now, it warms him--makes him feel just a little shy, something he didn't think he was still capable of.)
Of course, all that indulgence has come back to bite him now, because he is TRAPPED, even if his prison is extremely pleasant.]
Xiaaaansheng. [He drags the syllables out like honey, rich with amusement. His tone is a low murmur, and he leans close enough to speak against Zhongli's lips, a breath away from kissing him back awake.] It's morning.
[Zhongliiiii they have to get uppppp]
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