Author's Note: This chapter begins with a quick flashback to Tartaglia's conversation with Signora back in Chapter 13 (Rumor). Although it's not necessary to understand this chapter, I would recommend re-reading their dialogue in that chapter to reorient yourself.

Chapter Nineteen: Kompromat

"Bargain?" Signora had pressed, arching an elegant eyebrow.

"Yes, bargain. You want me to behave?" He had asked. "Then I'll need something in return."

"Oh?" The Fair Lady had hummed, her condescending smirk widening as she had turned to face him. "And what do you mean when you say you'll behave?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," he had shot back tersely.

She gives him a long hard look as if trying to discern some hidden scheme behind his words. Force of habit, he was sure. But he hardly cared. His mind had been made up and he was determined to have his way. With or without her cooperation.

"So," she had stepped forward with a coy smirk. "If I understand you correctly you wouldn't fight back if I say grabbed you here?"

His hand had caught hers as it had reached for his crotch. He shifted to give her a withering glare. Her smirk had broadened as she had watched him with feigned bemusement.

"We haven't made a deal yet," he had warned. "So, I'd be careful if I were you."

"But what good is negotiating if I don't know what exactly you're offering?" She had taunted with a condescending smirk.

He had closed his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh before reaching down to unbutton his trousers. Conscious of the Eighth Harbinger's gaze trailing his movements, Tartaglia had ripped his trousers down without preamble or hesitation, eager to be done with the entire sordid affair. Placing a hand on his hip, he had reopened his eyes to face her and was relieved to notice her eyes studying his face and not his now-exposed member.

Despite his best efforts to pretend otherwise, he was still painfully inexperienced in matters of lovemaking and part of him feared that it showed. Before Mondstadt's shining idol, he hadn't encountered anyone that had interested him romantically and had been more than content to occupy himself with work.

"Satisfied?" He had grumbled through clenched teeth.

"Partly," she had chuckled back grey eyes watching him as she had slid into a nearby sofa. "Now to business—what do you require in exchange for your…compliance?"

"Information. Useful information."

Even after all these years Pulcinella still thought himself invincible enough to leave his front door unguarded. Tartaglia eases his way inside, pausing briefly to shut the large double doors behind him. Exhausted from his trip, the Eleventh Harbinger leans back against the door, scanning the dark grand foyer for the best route to his prize.

From where he stands, it is evident that not much had changed in the four years since that fateful night when the Fifth Harbinger had discovered Childe rifling through his study. Even in the darkness, the carpet was still the same shade of vermillion with matching curtains draped elegantly along the towering glass windows. When he dares forward, the eerie silence devours his footsteps, leaving only his trailing shadow behind.

He picks a vaguely familiar path through the manor, pausing every now and then to listen for any signs of life. But all is still throughout the house, and he reaches his colleague's study without hearing or encountering another soul. He shuts the study door after himself and hurries to search Pulcinella's desk. He does not look long and quickly finds a copy of the day's surveillance report on his family just as Signora had insisted he would.

"Oh, dear, how nostalgic," the Fifth Harbinger's deep voice rumbles through the study as he flicks a switch on, flooding the room with light. "And here I thought conscripting you into service had rid you of this rather disgusting behavior."

"You're one to talk about getting rid of disgusting behavior," Childe scoffs as he straightens to meet the larger man's gaze. "Last I checked lying to your comrades was at the top of the list."

"Whatever do you mean?" The Fifth Harbinger asks cocking his head condescendingly to the side.

Tartaglia pulls out the silver necklace with the pyro vision he had retrieved from the slain child while checking their bodies. The air around the Fifth Harbinger shifts as the sheen of recognition flickers within his eyes.

"You recognize this so it must be yours," the Eleventh Harbinger states dryly.

"Yes, now hand it over," Pulcinella commands advancing.

Tartaglia takes several steps back in response, spinning the necklace until its momentum tangles it around his forearm as he watches the taller man with a cautious smile.

"Except that it's not," he scoffs shaking his head incredulously.

"What do you mean? Of course, it's mine!" The Fifth Harbinger snaps.

"I'm not stupid you know," Tartaglia states coolly, his eyes narrowing into deadly slits now. "The light in this vision faded when that girl died, meaning that it belonged to her. Besides, its shape suggests that it belongs to someone from Fontaine, and not from Snezhnaya."

The Fifth Harbinger opens his mouth to speak but catches himself as a horrified expression slowly but surely settles upon his features.

"How much do you know?" He asks quietly.

"Not much," Tartaglia confesses with a shrug. "But enough to know that you've been playing me right from the start."

"Useful information?" The Fair Lady had repeated, arching an eyebrow in confusion.

"About the other Harbingers," Childe had specified.

"I only joined a few years—"

"Don't give me that bullshit!" He had snarled slamming his fist unto the coffee table between them. "You've been her Majesty's right hand for over eight years. Knowing you, you've definitely picked up on a thing or two."

"Perhaps," she equivocates. "But what makes you think I have the information you need?"

"You're a spy," he had shot back, pausing briefly to pull his trousers back on. "Figure a way of getting me the information I need."

"I have a better plan," Signora had stated, clicking her tongue dismissively as she had risen from the sofa to approach him. "You be a good little puppy for mommy, and I'll make sure your family remains unharmed."

"Come now, I thought we were negotiating," He had stated with a wry chuckle. "Do you really have to go threatening me?"

"What can I say Ajax?" She had shrugged circling him with a predatory smile. "You have no cards to play that I can't match."

"How about you leave my family alone and I help you catch the traitor in our ranks." His smirk widens as the Fair Lady stops dead in her tracks.

"What are you—"

"Come on, really? Do you think I'm that stupid not to know what's going on here?" He had scoffed. "Just because I don't follow politics doesn't mean I'm an idiot."

"Actually, it does," Signora corrects before pivoting. "Politics is the lifeblood of our very existence. It directly affects every choice we make in our everyday lives. But I digress. What makes you think there's a trai—?"

"Because I'm supposed to be his patsy."

"What are you talking about?"

"That actress wasn't just some actress blackmailing some powerful politician, was she?" Childe muses tapping his chin somewhat distractedly. "She was your lover, and her child was yours."

"You're not making any sense, Ajax," Pulcinella snaps digging into his coat to pull out a cigar which he lights with a casual flick of his thumb.

Tartaglia's eyes narrow at this, but he allows the moment to pass without comment.

"I did some digging after I killed them," Tartaglia informs him matter-of-factly. As Pulcinella acknowledges his statement with a slight arch of his eyebrow, Childe pulls out a stack of photographs which he dumps at his colleague's feet. "I decided to have a look around after noticing this vision hanging around the child's neck."

"What's that?"

"Photos of you and the actress you had me murder two days ago."

The Fifth Harbinger stoops briefly to retrieve the photographs but freezes when he recognizes them. When he straightens up, there is a somber and deeply sorrowful glint in his eyes as they study the figures depicted within each photograph.

"Where did you get these?" His tone seems almost wistful.

"In a hidden drawer in her mansion," Childe informs him calmly.

"These were taken several years ago," Pulcinella scoffs, his expression hardening suddenly as he tosses them dismissively over his shoulder. "They hardly prove that we were acquainted, much less lovers."

"Well then I guess it's a good thing I drew some of the child's blood before I left then," Tartaglia states as his smirk widens. "Besides, I don't think her Majesty will appreciate how chummy you both seem with avowed Reformationists."

"You're still not making any sense, Ajax. Why do you think we seem chummy with Reformationists?"

"That man beside you with the crescent glasses and braided grey beard," the Eleventh Harbinger replies breezily. "That was Igor Chereminsky the former leader of the Reformationists. If I'm not mistaken these would have been taken in his bunker four years ago, about two weeks before his assassination."

"Oh? Mr. Chereminsky frequently used decoys and went to great lengths to conceal his identity. What makes you so sure this individual was actually him?"

"Because I was the one who killed Mr. Chereminsky."

"Ah. I should have known," Pulcinella chuckles dismissively as he puffs at his cigar coolly. "How very unlike you to succeed at such a momentous venture and keep it to yourself."

"If I remember correctly, you've been a harbinger for over eighty years now, haven't you?" Childe states crossing his arms as he watches his colleague with a guarded frown. "Back then Mr. Chereminsky had openly incited violence against her Majesty and her representatives. So why would you be meeting with him in secret?"

Pulcinella crosses his arms behind his back as he walks past Tartaglia to pull back his curtains. When they part, he lifts his head and stares out of the window, a deep heavy sigh slipping through his parted lips as he watches the twinkling stars beyond.

"They say Fontaine has seen a boom of unparalleled artistry and sophistry since Celestia appeared directly above it," the Fifth Harbinger says with a somber chuckle without turning to face his colleague.

"I thought it's always been there," Tartaglia shrugs. "When did it move?"

"To Fontaine? Around seven hundred years ago a hundred days before the death of the former hydro archon. Though her name has been lost to time, it is said that she predicted the fall of Khaenri'ah two hundred years before it was set to transpire and sought to avert it at all costs," Pulcinella replies shifting slightly to watch as Childe moves to join him. "For her misdeeds, many feared that Fontaine would incur the wrath of Celestia. But alas her own student intervened and quelled the gods by slaying her. As a reward, Celestia entrusted her with her master's realm and former position tasking her with maintaining the natural order amongst her people."

"W-why are you telling me this, comrade?" Childe asks blinking blankly up at the taller man.

"Because I fear her Majesty shall doom Snezhnaya should we achieve her goal."

Tartaglia's breath catches in his throat as the weight of his colleague's words slowly but surely sink in. Pulse racing, he channels hydro energy into his hands forming a pair of blades which he swiftly turns on the Fifth Harbinger.

Despite their immense difference in size, Childe knows that his opponent could not keep up with him in such cramped quarters. While Pulcinella could always force the fight outside, this would undoubtedly attract unwanted attention.

"Do you doubt her Majesty's divine mandate?!"

"With good reason. See how far Khaenri'ah has fallen!" Pulcinella protests turning to face him fully.

"You don't know what happened back then—"

"Hubris and blind faith. That's what happened. And it's happening now again in Snezhnaya. Right beneath our very noses. Entrusting all knowledge and influence in the hands of a precious few who govern the masses with impunity! It is disgraceful! Have we learned nothing? Openly challenging Celestia's might by robbing its chosen vassals. Celestia will not tolerate Snezhnaya's impertinence for much longer! Think, boy! Think. If someone dared challenge we the chosen eleven what calamity would her Majesty inflict in retribution? Do you honestly think Celestia will allow this to remain unpunished? Open your eyes!"

"My eyes are wide open, comrade," Childe states coolly as he slips into a defensive stance. "I suggest you come to your senses and take your own advice before I kill you."

"I notice you haven't asked me why I'm collecting a dossier on your family, comrade," Pulcinella notes with a condescending smirk. "I must say I'm impressed. Could you have already figured it out?"

"It's insurance," Childe replies through clenched teeth. "I'm the wildcard you can't predict so you'll use it buy my silence."

"Close but not quite. I'm afraid you are still painfully incapable of seeing the big picture, Ajax," the Fifth Harbinger sneers.

"Alright then, I'll bite," Tartaglia sighs stowing his hydro blades away as he relaxes his stance. "Why are you watching my family?"

"Why buy your silence when I can ensure your participation," Pulcinella chuckles, a knowing smile curling his lips as he turns to leave the room. The Eleventh Harbinger reluctantly follows him, taking care to give him a wide berth. "Up till now, you have served her Majesty valiantly, bringing pride and prestige with your mighty exploits—"

"The point, comrade," Childe snaps resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "And please spare me the flowery words—we both know they're full of shit anyways."

"I seem to recall you once telling me that you wish to conquer the world and crush the throne of gods," the Fifth Harbinger states. When Tartaglia does not respond or otherwise acknowledge this, he turns around to face him. "Is that still true?"

"Yes," Childe admits tersely.

"Imagine how richly Celestia would reward those who crush her Majesty's rebellion. Immortality, eternal youth, power beyond your wildest dreams. With that kind of power, you could challenge the hydro archon and succeed her."

"What makes you think I want to become an archon?"

"How else would you reach Celestia or unravel its many secrets?"

Tartaglia tightens his jaw and schools his expression into an inscrutable mask as he feigns indifference to his colleague's words. As tempting as it was to join Pulcinella, there were far too many unknown risks for him to fully commit. While danger never frightened him, Signora's shenanigans in Liyue Harbor still left a sour taste in his mouth. He hated being used and despised being kept in the dark—two things Pulcinella clearly favored when they suited his needs.

"Just think," the Fifth Harbinger states silkily. "If you became the hydro archon, she would be bound to you inextricably."

"Who would?" Childe asks, blue eyes narrowing into deadly slits.

The Fifth Harbinger's eyes twinkle viciously as they meet his gaze, sending a shiver of fear down his spine.

"Mondstadt's shinning idol of course," Pulcinella replies with a smirk.

"I'm going to have to pass on that," Tartaglia returns coolly.

"As you wish," the Fifth Harbinger shrugs. "So, do we have a deal? Will you join our glorious cause?"

"Pass," Childe informs him tersely catching his colleague off guard.

The Fifth Harbinger's surprise does not last long as he begins to shake his head, clicking his teeth with a disapproving scowl.

"You would sacrifice your family for an archon that's lost faith in you?"

"I'm not sacrificing anything," Tartaglia scoffs. "I might be on the outs with her Majesty right now, but even you wouldn't be stupid enough to touch a fellow harbinger's family."

"And what of your lover?" Pulcinella presses quietly. "The charming Miss Pegg. Surely her Majesty would not care if any harm befalls her."

"If you touch her, I'll—"

"Rave and rampage like a mad dog," the Fifth Harbinger sneers. "You might even kill me too but that will never bring her back."

"No, but it will be satisfying as hell," Tartaglia snarls through clenched teeth.

"And what of the guilt?" Pulcinella asks cocking his head ever so slightly to the side. "The weight of that crushing guilt. Knowing that she met such a grisly end on your account?"

"You can't touch her. You can't even reach her. Her sister is the acting grand master, and their family is beyond powerful." Tartaglia states quietly, a note of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

"Then I propose a bet," Pulcinella challenges. "My spies within the Knights of Favonius and Church are standing by as we speak. One word from me and they would enter Miss Pegg's room to leave you a token."

"What kind of token?" Tartaglia presses arching an eyebrow.

"A single rose with a black bow tied neatly along its stalk," the Fifth Harbinger replies. "Just like the one you found in your hotel room two nights ago."

Childe feels the breath in his lungs leave him as the room begins to spin out of focus. He remembers the single rose that had fallen out of his coat closet at the hotel and feels a chill run down his spine. The Knights of Favonius' reputation for incompetence and corruption was common knowledge amongst the Fatui, so Tartaglia knew that Pulcinella's words were no idle threat. And still, he would be lying if he claims not to have any lingering doubts.

He had to see it for himself. He needed to confirm the stakes before committing himself to a response either way.

"Alright, I'll return to Mondstadt," he concedes after some thought. "I'll search her room and if there's no rose there—"

"Then you may turn me in to her Majesty and watch me executed," Pulcinella finishes before adding. "But if you find our token and confirm our reach then you will know that your beloved will never be safe as long as you oppose us."

Author's Note:

The Harbingers' titles are derived from the stock characters in commedia dell'arte, a type of Italian theater that uses masks to designate their character's role in the story.

"Pulcinella" ("Rooster") is a self-centered self-preservationist who manipulates others to get what they want, always siding the winner and fearing nothing.

The above information was taken from .com. I've been relying on that website for much of the information and background regarding the game's characters and known lore.

Since we don't know much of anything about Pulcinella, I decided to take some creative liberties to fill in some gaps. Let me know if you think it works or are not a fan of his characterization and motivations.