Author's Note: Sorry about leaving ya'll on a cliffhanger but I got swamped with work and wasn't happy with this chapter so I decided to sit on it and tweak it instead of just posting it.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Homecoming
In the sleepy seaside village of Morepesok stands a long thin house on a long thin street now named for its most famous son. Though its prior occupants had long since moved to Zapolyarny, its exterior showed no signs of neglect or disrepair, and its windows often still glowed with the inviting warmth of a roaring hearth.
From the backseat of his cab, the Eleventh Harbinger studies the clouds of ash spiraling out of the thin house's lone chimney as the driver hops out to unload his luggage. Blue eyes latch onto the sudden parting of the second story curtain as their owner observes the lanky silhouette silently watching his arrival.
Could it be papa? He wonders as he is reminded of how much his father often complains to his mother and younger sister about missing his hometown whenever he thinks his third son isn't listening.
Childe alights from the car and pauses briefly beneath a nearby streetlamp, inhaling the nostalgic scent of salt and snow as he pretends to observe the cabbie unloading his belongings. Once he is sure that the figure observing him has had enough time to discern his identity, he turns to settle his fare with the cab driver.
"Leave it," he instructs coolly when the balding cabbie tries to lift the largest trunk resting between them.
"Are you sure sir?" The man asks as the Harbinger presses a large pouch of coins into his palm.
The Eleventh Harbinger simply walks past, slipping a gloved hand into his coat pocket to fish out a single pewter key. He quietly eases the creaky front gate open and marches up the snow-covered front steps leading up to the narrow front door.
"Didn't know you lived here, comrade," the cabbie remarks with a small chuckle.
"Not anymore," Ajax replies without bothering to look back. "I haven't for some time."
"Begging your pardon, comrade?"
"Nothing."
His journey had completely worn him out and he was far more eager to retire than to entertain or encourage idle chatter. The sooner he got indoors, the sooner he could greet his relative, unpack, and then rest. He frowns slightly at the somewhat unfamiliar shape of the door lock and wonders silently if he has simply forgotten its appearance. Holding the doorknob firmly between his fingers, Tartaglia directs the key to the keyhole.
The key bounces off, far too big to slip through.
"Very good, comrade."
An awkward pause follows as the Harbinger noisily fiddles with the lock securing the front door. Behind him, the cabbie sniffs when the entrance to the thin house remains defiantly sealed to the ginger-haired youth. When the Harbinger finally throws up his hands in frustration, the cabbie trails his gaze as he begins to scan the second story for any sign of the silhouette he had observed before.
"Are you sure that is the right key, comrade?"
"Yes," the Eleventh Harbinger returns tersely through clenched teeth as he approaches the front door with a clenched fist. His blue eyes narrow in frustration as he studies the unfamiliar lock once more. Blinking blankly at the offending anomaly, Ajax leans down to inspect the lock closely.
Why would they change it while I was away? Did something happen?
"Sorry, it's just that—" as the cabbie is speaking, the lock clicks loudly, and the front door slowly but surely creaks open.
Ajax straightens up to dismiss the cabbie but freezes as he is instead greeted by the blotchy face of his older brother.
"S-S-tanis?!" He exclaims with a puzzled frown. "W-what are you—"
"Papa shesh I coo stay here," his brother slurs, a bitter frown lining his features. "You know until things quiet down."
"Oh," Ajax hums distractedly. "Did you change the locks?"
"Yes," his brother sniffs angrily before shifting his attention to the Harbinger's luggage sitting on the porch.
"Why?" The Harbinger presses, crossing his arms as he assesses his older brother's state with a concerned frown.
Judging from his bloodshot eyes and slurred speech, he had been drinking for quite some time and was tethering precariously between consciousness and his next stupor. While his balance was commendable, his clothes were wrinkled, soiled, and reek of alcohol.
Tonia said he was depressed when Marja broke off their engagement, the Harbinger recalls. Has he been drinking since then?!
A twinge of guilt knots Tartaglia's eyebrows as he moves to carry his luggage indoors.
"Because…" Stanis trails off, tilting his head to stare past his younger brother as he finally notices the departing cabbie. "You came here in that? What? No tickertape parade today, Poekhavshiy?"
"Go lie down Stan," Ajax replies as he bends to retrieve his luggage and turns to enter the house. When he reaches the front porch and is about to cross the threshold, Stanislav abruptly extends an arm across the doorframe, blocking his path.
"Did you get my last letter?" Stanislav asks, his blue eyes narrowing with malice.
"You're drunk."
"DID YOU GET MY LAST LETTER?!" The grieving man bellows.
"I'm not doing this with you while you're drunk, Stanis," Ajax informs him coolly.
"Did you get my letter?!" The shorter man snarls, seizing a handful of his younger brother's shirt for emphasis.
"I did," Ajax replies morosely. "I'm so so—"
"Sorry? Sorry?! What's that going to do? Where does 'sorry' leave me?!" Stanis shoots back with a barking chuckle.
Tartaglia closes his eyes, far too weary to argue as he steels himself for his brother's wrath.
"What do you want me to say?" He finally asks, a sigh heavy on his words.
"I want you to explain," Stanis huffs crossing his arms indignantly. "I deserve an explanation! I told you about my plans to get married this summer. Mother insisted on scheduling it when you were free. I kept asking for dates from you. Why didn't you respond?!"
Guilt slumps the Eleventh Harbinger's shoulders as his blue eyes meet his older brother's glaring gaze. Although they both knew the only plausible explanation, it is clear that even that would not do for Stanis. He was apoplectic. Justifiably beside himself and completely beyond reason. Nothing short of Ajax reviving his former fiancée's affections for him would suffice.
"I'm sorry, Stanis," Ajax sighs. "I got carried away with work—"
"Fix it," Stanislav barks cutting him off. "I don't care how you do it. Just fix it. I will marry Marja in August. And you will attend and be happy for us—"
"But—"
"I DON'T CARE, AJAX! FIX IT!" Stanis roars jabbing his finger into his younger brother's chest.
The force of his movements disturbs his balance, sending him stumbling forward. The Eleventh Harbinger drops his luggage and catches his older brother as he falls, holding him in place before sweeping his arm over his shoulder and guiding him inside.
"GERROFF! LEAVE ME ALONE!" Stanis howls in protest, his long arms flailing wildly in defiance.
Tartaglia simply ignores his irate sibling as he carries him upstairs, depositing him gently into the bathtub. Before his brother can sluggishly climb his way out of the tub, Ajax fills it with warm water which soaks his clothes, effectively doubling their weight. The force of his exertions quickly tires the tipsy man causing him to slump back into the tub as he shoots his younger brother a hateful glare.
Leaving Stanislav in the tub to sober up, Ajax returns downstairs and retrieves his luggage, closing the front door behind him as he reenters the house.
As he pads through the dimly lit house, he observes heaps of trash, dirty clothes, and rotting food strewn about. It was exactly as he had feared. Stanislav had been holed up here since his fiancée had left him weeks ago.
Biting back an exasperated sigh, Tartaglia makes his way to the tiny bedroom he had once shared with his two older brothers.
Like most of the house, it had been renovated and now housed a pair of twin-sized beds separated by a single nightstand table by the lone window in the room. As he sets his luggage down, he briefly scans the room, an incredulous smile twisting the corners of his lips as he is reminded of the bitter squabbles and raucous arguments he and his older brothers had often indulged in within that very space.
This room seems so tiny. He notes, shaking his head in mild amazement. How did we ever fit here?
Just then, he suddenly remembers Stanis sobering up in the bathtub and quickly shrugs off his traveling cloak and boots before slipping out to check on him. He remains in the bathroom long enough to help his now-snoozing brother out of his clothes. After scrubbing and rinsing his body, Ajax carefully lifts Stanis' snoring frame out of the tub, gently carrying him towards the master bedroom.
The pungent odor of dirty clothes and rotting food greets his nostrils as he crosses the bedroom threshold. After parting the bedroom windows to assess the room, he quickly spots a suspicious grey stain on the rumpled sheets and decides against leaving Stanis there. Instead, he takes him into the relatively tidy guest bedroom and tucks him into one of the twin beds before returning to fetch a broomstick and mop from the downstairs cupboard.
He finds a large bucket in the backyard, which he fills with water and soap as he rolls up his sleeves. When his bucket is full, he carries it inside and sets to work sweeping and cleaning their childhood home. He works his way through the house, making quick work of the kitchen and dining room before turning his attention to the living room and main foyer. When he is done, he pokes his head into the downstairs study where their mother had often confined them to do their homework and after-school lessons.
Unlike the rest of the first floor, it had been spared Stanis' wrath and remained relatively clean save for a fine film of dust and some cobwebs which Ajax was all too happy to clean. Slowly but surely, Ajax makes his way through the rest of the house, sweeping, dusting, and mopping until every room he enters is left gleaming and glistening.
He had been so engrossed in his chores that he hadn't heard a knock at the front door and did not detect the presence of another until a hand reaches out to tap his shoulder gently. Jumping slightly, Ajax spins to face the newcomer and is relieved to find his younger sister watching him.
"Tonia!" He gasps, dropping the rag in his hand as he turns to face her. "Boy, am I glad to see you!"
"A-Ajax?!" She shrieks as she leaps into his arms. "Her Majesty be praised! We were so worried about you!"
"Ah, I've missed you guys so much," Ajax sighs, burying his nose into his younger sister's head with a fond smile as they embrace.
They remain like that for several moments swaying slightly as they lean gently into the other's body, relishing the comforting warmth of the other's embrace. When Tonia finally pulls away, it is to jab his arm harshly as she steps back to consider his appearance.
"You meanie, how come you never responded to my letters?!" She scolds wagging a finger disapprovingly at him. "Mother and I were worried sick!"
In that moment her scowl reminds him so much of their mother's own that he bursts into laughter before stopping himself when her features harden.
"Sorry, Tonia," he mutters sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as his younger sister glares up at him. "Didn't mean to make you guys worry. I've just been so busy."
"Something's wrong, Ajax," she observes astutely. "What's wrong with you? What's going on? Why haven't you been writing back to us? Why didn't you tell anyone that you were coming home? Mom and dad have been worried sick. Dad almost boarded the next ship for Liyue Harbor to check on you."
"I'm sorry," he mumbles once more, his expression softening. "I got carried away."
"I'll say," she huffs, rolling her eyes as she stomps out of the room. "I almost thought Stanis was seeing things when he said that you were here but then I noticed how clean everything downstairs was and realized that you must have been here."
He follows her into the hallway and heads down the stairs where he washes his hands before returning to the guest bedroom where she is waiting at the edge of Stanis' bed. He moves to stand behind her as she reaches to feel their older brother's temple.
As he observes her, he is struck by how much she reminds him of their mother. While she had inherited their mother's shade of dirty blonde hair, hers was now much longer than their mother's. She had grown considerably since his last visit, adding almost six inches to her already impressive frame.
"How long has he been like this?" Ajax whispers as she retracts her hand with a worried sigh.
"Almost a month now," she replies. "Ever since Marja left him. He really loved her you know. I mean I know you never cared much for her, but he was really looking forward to marrying her."
"I know," Ajax sighs pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know I messed up but still it's probably for the best that she left him if she can get cold feet so close to the wedding."
Tonia opens her mouth as if to say something but stops when Stanis grimaces and begins to stir. She turns instead to give Ajax a stern frown directing him to leave the room. Exhausted from his trip and chores, the Eleventh Harbinger is all too happy to oblige, leaving the bedroom without preamble or hesitation.
He quickly bathes and changes into his pajamas before returning to the guest room to slip into the free twin bed. Stanis is thankfully still sleeping when he returns. Judging from the aroma wafting through the house, Tonia had gone downstairs to fix them some breakfast. Heeding his growling stomach, Ajax tiptoes past his brother's bed and heads downstairs to join his sister.
"Are you hungry?" Tonia calls over her shoulder as he settles into a dining chair. "It's almost done! Just boiling some water for— Blin! I was so focused on stirring the kasha that the water for tea dried up!"
She lifts the steaming pot of drying up water and turns to face him expectantly nodding at his hip. Her face inexplicably contorts and she releases the pot with a shocked shriek. Ajax jumps to his feet and reflexively assumes a defensive stance as he prepares to draw his hydro blades.
His expression hardens when he does not feel the familiar surge of elemental waters condensing into translucent blades around his fingertips. Turning away from his younger sister, he inspects his empty hands in shock before lowering his gaze to his midriff where his hydro vision normally hangs.
"Ajax, w-wh-what h-happened? W-where is your vision?" Tonia squeals as she watches him with a mix of shock and dread.
"I probably forgot it upstairs," the Harbinger replies as he takes off.
He ascends the stairs and dashes into the bedroom where he scans his belongings for any sign of his hydro vision. Finding none, he retraces his steps through the house, returning to the bathroom where he had bathed earlier before redirecting his attention to all the rooms he had cleaned.
As he is rummaging through the downstairs study, he notices movement outside the long thin window and turns in time to observe a tall man getting out of a sleek black car parked directly in front of their front gate. Intrigued, he straightens up and studies the newcomer as he taps his long silver and black cane onto the ground. A gust of air swirls through the street before dissipating into a thin halo of ethereal energy that settles around him.
Tartaglia's eyes widen as he recognizes the gilded jester's mask covering the newcomer's face. It belonged to the one that had pinned the insignia of his delusion unto his chest at the Tsaritsa's direction. He had seen it once before and never since the feast celebrating his initiation as a Harbinger.
If he's here, then that must mean her Majesty sent him.
No sooner had the words formed within his head did Pierrot, the First Harbinger turn to give him a low and mocking bow.
Author's Note: While writing this chapter, I decided to find some Russian nicknames and stumbled upon "Poekhavshiy". Apparently, it roughly translates to "nutcase" which I thought was a mean but funny childhood nickname Tartaglia's brothers would give him.
"Blin!" literally means "pancake", but is used in place of "sh*t!" or "crap!" to express shock and dismay at some sort of failure.
I don't speak Russian so please feel free to correct me if this is wrong.