It was done.
In that moment when the gnosis left the Geo Archon's fingers, he relinquished not only it, but Liyue, the nation he'd built from the ground up with his own two hands. Rex Lapis was, to the eyes of the watching world, well and truly dead, and with the departure of the age-old archon, the new life of the mortal Zhongli could finally flourish.
However, even with his and the Tsaritsa's contract finally fulfilled, Zhongli couldn't quite accept the idea that all was said and done. There was a single loose end to all this that he wished to tie up. There were a select few people who knew the truth of what happened in Liyue Harbor on the night of Osial's release, and one of them, a certain red-haired Snezhnayan, continued to plague his mind even after said person's furious departure from Northland Bank, because Zhongli could tell the man had been hurt in more ways than one.
He'd deceived Childe, his best friend. This, Zhongli knew very well. He recognized that it was necessary in order to carry out his plan, and he knew he'd do it again if given the chance to redo the past few months. Nevertheless, the shock, pain, and anger that had bubbled up in the harbinger's eyes at the revelation of Zhongli's true identity caused a dull pang to throb in the god's chest. He hadn't expected to have qualms about tricking a harbinger or give much of a damn about their emotional well-being, for considering the Tsaritsa and Signora's demeanors—cold, arrogant, and incredibly condescending—as well as hearing the rumors of the reckless, bloodthirsty Tartaglia who was feared even among his people, the last thing Zhongli thought he'd be doing while keeping an eye on the Eleventh was befriending him. Lo and behold, Childe had surprised him, and he'd grown more than a little fond of the young man. Thus, Zhongli felt bad for causing him heartbreak. He wanted to talk things out with the harbinger and make amends, perhaps once he'd had a little time to cool off.
If that wasn't enough, there was another matter concerning Childe's current state that was bothering the adeptus. Childe had tried to hide it, carefully limiting his movements and fading into the background for most of that fateful conversation at the bank, but the observation didn't escape Zhongli that he was injured after Osial's release. Zhongli thought he was, at least. He'd noticed Childe wincing and shifting his weight, the faint grimaces that flickered across his face, and the slight strain and rasp in his voice when he'd spoken. There were no visible marks on his body, but something had undoubtedly happened to the harbinger since Zhongli had last seen him. Zhongli desperately wanted to know what it was, to help him, but it wasn't like he could have abandoned the traveler, who was waiting for an explanation, to go after him in that moment.
Now, his conversation with the blond outlander was over, but it was much too late to go and follow Childe. Zhongli wasn't even sure where he'd gone. He pushed his way out of the bank, frowning in discontent as he descended the red staircase.
It was hard for him to accept, but there really wasn't anything Zhongli could do at the moment. He had a feeling Childe wouldn't be very happy if he showed up at the man's doorstep right now, and Zhongli couldn't even be sure he'd be there in the first place. Reluctantly, he acquiesced and made his way back to his own house.
Mercifully, it was unharmed by Osial's assault, but this fact also made Zhongli feel guilty about those whose residences had been damaged. Why should he, an immortal being with no need for food, sleep, or shelter, be granted these essentials in a time of need while some of his people may be suffering? And this had all resulted from a plan that was for his and the Tsaritsa's benefit…
Zhongli sat down on his couch, breathing out a sigh as he folded his hands in his lap. It was strange, knowing he no longer was the archon of Liyue. Strange, yes, to step down after three thousand seven hundred years, but it wasn't a bad feeling. If anything, he felt relieved, and he was excited to be able to fully devote himself to mortal life. The brief taste of it he'd had so far made it enticing; he longed to truly lose himself in it.
But the thing that had made it so enjoyable… rather, the person…
He knew human life centered around one's relationships with those around them, and he'd been told how much it was supposed to hurt when those relationships were severed. Faced with the situation himself, Zhongli thought he understood. What would happen if Childe hated him after this? If he wasn't willing to reconcile?
Zhongli… didn't want to lose him, and he once again had to suppress the urge to sprint all the way to the harbinger's house.
There was a hesitant, uneven knock at his door, lifting him out of his thoughts. Zhongli's head turned. Ah, was someone coming to check that he was okay after Osial's attack? Perhaps the Millelith? How considerate of them.
Zhongli stood up and went to open the door. "Hello, is there…?" His voice trailed off and his eyes slowly widened as he took in the person standing at his door—the last person he would have expected to show up at his house after what happened.
Childe was disheveled. During the fulfillment of his contract, Zhongli had mostly kept his eyes trained on Signora and the traveler, so despite noticing his injured state, he hadn't seen just how dark the circles under the harbinger's eyes were or how messy and tangled his auburn hair had become. The Tsaritsa's vanguard looked so vulnerable before him, and the sight made Zhongli's chest ache.
Childe was biting his lip, refusing to look Zhongli in the eye. "I'm fucked," he muttered, skipping whatever pleasantries he might have usually offered. "The Qixing know what I did and they're after me; I don't have anywhere to go. I know we were never really friends, but…" An unspoken request, the one he was too afraid or perhaps ashamed to voice, lingered on his lips.
Zhongli took a moment to let his words sink in. I know we were never really friends. Oh, no… Here it was, just as he'd feared: his people in pain because of their god's selfishness.
…Wait, when was it that he'd started to think of Childe as one of his people?
"That's not true," Zhongli said softly, pushing that realization away for later. "Please, come inside." Childe looked unconvinced, but he gave a silent nod and stepped past the threshold.
The harbinger stood in place uncomfortably, and it was a stark contrast to all the other times he'd visited Zhongli's place. He'd always made himself at home, relaxed and happy and seeming even to Zhongli like he belonged there. Now, however, he seemed to recognize that he was in a god's abode, that he was nothing but an insignificant mortal who shouldn't be trespassing on such holy ground.
Zhongli hated the thought that Childe saw himself like that and that he saw Zhongli as distant or unwelcoming. He swore to himself that he'd change that.
"Why don't you sit down?" he offered. "I'll make us some tea."
Another wordless nod. Childe walked over to the sofa, a slight limp in his step, and slowly sat down.
Zhongli watched him for a moment. He looked so small, so defeated, so lonely. He felt the overwhelming urge to go wrap his arms around the boy and assure him everything was all right. Should he…?
Childe glanced at him with tired eyes. Ah, Zhongli realized, he'd been staring. He offered a small smile to the harbinger before venturing into the kitchen.
His hands got to work preparing the tea, and his mind got to work analyzing the little material Childe had given him to work with. Zhongli had never been skilled at discerning human emotions, but the harbinger looked humiliated. That made sense; it was not a wonderful feeling to discover you had been used by the queen you respected and the man you called a friend. Childe, undoubtedly, had been played like a fiddle, his undying trust in the Tsaritsa and in Zhongli proving to be his downfall. He must feel crestfallen and betrayed.
The question was, how could Zhongli go about remedying these emotions? He'd apologize, of course. All he could do was pour his heart out to Childe and try to make him understand, but he had no idea whether it would work. He could only hope it did.
He returned to the living room carefully bearing two steaming teacups. He sat them down on the table in front of the couch and carefully sat down next to Childe. The harbinger's eyes remained averted from him; it was like he didn't want to acknowledge the other's presence. Lazy blue eyes tracked the steam rising from his cup.
"Childe," Zhongli said gently. "Will you look at me?"
It wasn't a demand, but Childe complied nonetheless, motions almost robotic. His eyes were dim and dull, and his bottom lip had reddened from all the biting he was doing.
"You're injured," Zhongli said. "What happened?"
Childe tensed. "Got into a fight," he said tersely.
"With whom?"
"The traveler."
Frowning, Zhongli cast his eyes down the harbinger's form. Even up close, his body didn't seem to be harmed, and there wasn't a single tear in the fabric of his clothing. "You don't appear to have any wounds," the consultant observed.
The breath left Childe's lungs in a shaky exhale as he dropped his head into his hands. "Please," he said, "just don't ask. I'll be fine in a few days."
His actions and hesitance only worsened Zhongli's concern, but the god wouldn't push him if he didn't want to speak. "All right," Zhongli said quietly. "You are welcome to stay here for as long as you need to recover." Childe lifted his head slightly, glancing at Zhongli in surprise.
"Oh," he said, "uh, I was just looking to camp out for a day or so. You know, until everybody calms down a little and I have a chance to plead my case. You don't need to…"
Zhongli shook his head firmly. "You should stay. That is, if you wish to."
Childe blinked at him. "Why? Aren't I, like, an enemy of the state to you or something?"
"The blame for Osial's release rests equally as much on my shoulders as it does yours," Zhongli said. "Furthermore, you are hurt and I would like to take care of you."
Childe's eyes widened and a flush crept up his cheeks. "Wh—you what?"
"And…" Zhongli ignored the reaction and held his gaze steadily. "I would like to mend the wrongs done between us. I know you are upset with me, and you have every right to be. I simply wish for a chance to make it right."
Childe stared at him for another moment, then set his jaw, looking away. Zhongli's face fell—that wasn't the response he'd been hoping for, though he supposed he should have expected it. "I'm not mad at you," Childe said. "You did what you had to do and I know that. Hell, I'm not exactly innocent here; I released Osial with full knowledge of the danger that put the city in. So it'd be selfish of me to think ill of you. You're an archon, of course you have bigger things to worry about than one human," he said bitterly, and the harbinger's reminder sounded almost like it was directed towards himself.
"Childe—"
"You were never the person I thought you were, so—" Childe swallowed, voice hitching—"there's nothing between us to fix. There's no us at all. Maybe there was me and Zhongli, but he doesn't even exist, does he?"
His eyes met Zhongli's again, and in them burned a kind of cold flame. It was searing, yet it was freezing; it was burning, yet it was wet. Zhongli's heart dropped.
"That isn't true, Childe," he tried, but Childe shook his head, having none of it.
"I don't know why you're still doing this. I don't know what more you could possibly want from me," he snapped, "but you can get it without trying to fuck me up more than you already have. Zhongli—what I thought you were—was a human, but that's something you'll never be. Stop acting like we're equals when you and the Tsaritsa have made it extremely clear we're not."
Ah. So that was it. Childe was upset because, in his mind, the friend he so cherished had been fake this whole time. To him, Zhongli was nothing more than one of the characters in Morax's master plan. And it was impossible for an archon like Morax to have such an insignificant friend as a mortal.
Zhongli couldn't deny that he'd feigned humanity when he was, in truth, so far from it. He couldn't deny that his mortal demeanor was different from how he acted as Rex Lapis. But it wasn't as Childe thought—he had not been putting on a costume and creating a character to make friends with the harbinger. It was a different part of himself, yes, but it was no less him than the graceful dragon form he presented at the Rite of Descension each year.
Childe knew the "human" part of Zhongli inside and out. He cared for it (or… had cared for it? Zhongli hated to think about that possibility), and Zhongli had found that he loved sharing himself with the harbinger. He wanted Childe to know him, and yet there was still so much of himself the god had kept hidden behind the walls of his lies. Considering the contract, he couldn't have torn them down earlier if he'd wanted to, but now…
He had a chance now. The walls were gone, crumbled to dust with the contract's end. Now, he had the opportunity to show all of himself to Childe. To allow the harbinger to see him, to know him, and… maybe even something more.
An idea had wormed its way into Zhongli's mind. Perhaps hearing things from another form—or as Childe currently saw it, another being entirely—would help Childe understand his feelings. Zhongli closed his eyes, exhaled, and let go all at once.
He could hear a sharp gasp from Childe as the familiar sensation of his half-dragon transformation overtook the adeptus's body. A tight-fitting vest extended into rippling white robes, a hood coming to rest over his scalp. Warm energy crept down his now-bare arms as their color shifted, dark shoulders moving in a gradient to hands glowing like molten gold; intricate sigils decorated the skin all the way down. Smooth horns sprouted from his head. A long, scaly tail protruded from the small of his back, tapering down into a point until it burst into a fluffy plume of autumn oranges and golds. He opened his eyes, faintly wondering if they were glowing, and locked them with Childe's. The harbinger was staring at him with a vast myriad of emotions flitting across his face; each one was gone too quickly for Zhongli to identify it.
"You are right," the god said. "It is impossible for me to ever fully know the human experience. But that is exactly why I have stepped down from my position as archon. Humanity is a wonderful thing, and I wish to partake in it in what little ways I can." He gave Childe a moment to take him in, feeling blue eyes rake up and down his body, savoring every little detail, every scale, each silky strand of hair.
"The one you see before you now is me," the god said, "but so is Zhongli. You knew I cared for you when I presented myself as a mortal, so let me tell you again so that you may accept me like this as well." He shifted in his seat to more easily face the harbinger.
"Childe, who or what the both of us are does not change the fact that I consider you a friend," Morax said. "You are more important to me than you realize, and not just in terms of having played a part in my contract.
"You asked what more I could want from you," he said. "And to that, I will say I still wish for your companionship. I wish for your company, and… I wish for you to call me a friend in return. Those are my desires, but whether you forgive me is entirely up to you. I simply want you to know that I am being genuine."
Childe licked his lips, emotions warring on his face. "I don't understand," he said hoarsely. "Why?"
"Childe." Zhongli's voice was a low rumble, and a lock of hair slipped off his shoulder as he cocked his head. "The day I left this room and walked out the door to attend our first meeting, I was expecting to meet someone brutish and haughty with no appreciation for quietude or delicacy. I expected someone rude and unlikeable, like the other member of the Harbingers I had become acquainted with. I did not expect to care for you; I thought you would be someone I could use in my plan without regrets. You proved me wrong. While I was not able to tell you the truth about the contract and it was far too late to edit it in your favor, I began to anticipate every outing with you, to crave seeing your face. I have been worshipped by many people, but you, Childe, have made me feel not just heard, but understood for something past my godhood. For that, I am incredibly grateful." He smiled at Childe and hoped such a simple gesture could convey the sincerity and affection in his words.
Childe held his gaze for a moment, slightly gaping, then looked away as if embarrassed, his cheeks slowly flushing. His eyes continued along their path over Zhongli's body, like he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing, couldn't believe it was real. "I, uh…" he tried, but ultimately failed in coming up with any words.
Hmm, perhaps this wasn't enough. Humans often connected through physical contact, did they not? Well, that was fine with Zhongli. Maybe not with just anyone, but if it was Childe, it was fine. It was desirable, even, Zhongli surprised himself by thinking. Slowly, he swept his tail up off the ground and laid it across Childe's legs in an offer. "Here," he said. "You may touch it, if you'd like."
"What?" The harbinger frowned in confusion at the abrupt change of subject.
Zhongli nodded at the tail. "Go on."
Childe paused, then hesitantly began to brush his fingers along the dark mahogany scales. He glanced back upwards, and Zhongli nodded encouragingly. The frown on Childe's face gradually shifted into a look of childlike wonder and his brow unfurrowed as began to gently pet the tail, hand moving down its length until it buried itself in the golden fluff at the tip. Zhongli stifled a chuckle at the way the harbinger's eyes widened and how he buried his fingers in the plume with renewed enthusiasm. The god was well aware the end of his tail was soft, very soft.
He wasn't sure exactly why he'd been eager to present his tail to Childe; letting someone pet it like he was a dog was not something he did regularly. It felt rather nice, though, and his eyes fluttered closed in relaxation. Lost in his contentment, it was too late when Zhongli realized a low, rumbling noise was coming from his throat. Oh… He flushed. It seemed he was purring.
That was… rather embarrassing, but there was no taking it back now, so Zhongli acquiesced and allowed the purrs to leave his throat. He could feel Childe's hands begin to slow, then they stopped altogether.
"Uh—Zhongli?" he asked meekly. "You're, uhm… is that normal?"
Zhongli smiled to himself. "It is," he said. "Carry on." And, after a pause in which Zhongli was sure the harbinger was staring at him, Childe did.
At some point, Zhongli opened his eyes and lifted his tail from Childe's grasp to wrap it loosely around the man's waist as if it were hugging him. Childe looked at him questioningly.
"I will let you know I don't allow just anyone to touch me like that, much less offer it to them myself," Zhongli said. "Do you believe me now when I say you are important to me?"
Childe fidgeted with his fingers. "I want to," he muttered. "I really do. I'm just… scared that I'll be wrong."
Zhongli clasped the harbinger's hands in his own. His gaze traced along the old scars on Childe's skin, passed over each little blemish and freckle. "I know it is hard to trust me after I have deceived you," he said, "and I will not blame you in the slightest should you choose not to. However, if you will do me the honor of forgiving me, I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure you never regret it.
"So, what do you say?" Zhongli asked softly. "Will you give me another chance?"
Childe took a shaky breath. He watched Zhongli hesitantly, a blush on his cheeks. "Zhongli, is this…?" he said shyly instead of answering. He seemed to be searching Zhongli's face for something; for what, the god wasn't quite sure. "I mean, are we…?" At Zhongli's questioning blink, the harbinger shook his head and cut himself off, his face flaring redder. "Nevermind," he said quickly.
However, Zhongli was far from stupid, and Childe's blush told him more than his words could have managed. Ah. What they were doing… it was rather intimate, wasn't it? And thinking back on it, Zhongli realized his words earlier had sounded painfully close to a confession.
Confessing to Childe…
The concept seemed strangely right, like it should have been obvious that was the case.
Just like that, the gears clicked into place in Zhongli's head.
Oh. He loved Childe. He was in love with him, rather. That was it, wasn't it? That was why it felt so natural to have the other at his side. That was why he'd been so worried about the harbinger's wellbeing. That was why he'd dreaded the thought of him leaving so badly.
The realization lit a warm flame in Zhongli's chest. A soft glow radiated from the amber ends of his hair, a change that did not go unnoticed by Childe. The younger man's gaze flickered to the golden tips, captivated.
Zhongli smiled. "I suppose I hadn't realized. It seems you understand me better than myself at times, hmm?" He regarded Childe fondly. "You are right, Childe. The reason I wish for you to stay is because I am in love with you."
Childe's lips parted. "Zhongli, I…" He broke off, searching for words. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I am." He leaned forward ever so slightly, all eyes on Childe. "I have felt this way about you for some time now. It is simply that I didn't have a word for it until now."
Childe continued to just stare, and it occurred to Zhongli with a flash of distress that it was entirely possible the harbinger didn't return his affections. After all, why would he, after finding out how Zhongli and the Tsaritsa set him up for failure? Zhongli thought he'd expressed his remorse convincingly, but as he'd said, Childe had no obligation to forgive him.
He tried to think back on their times together. Childe had always been cheerful around him, and he'd always been kind and generous, offering to pay for the consultant's expenses and listening to his stories with interest. He acted as any good friend would, but was there anything there that suggested love? He… didn't know. It was too difficult to tell, for he didn't even know what he was looking for.
Zhongli deflated slightly, leaning back again. "Is that okay?" the god asked quietly. "I do not mean to make you uncomfortable."
Childe looked at him like he was crazy.
"Are you kidding?" he said, though his tone didn't sound angry, just awed. "Of course, of course it's okay. I—" He cut himself off, shaking his head as a breathless laugh, filled with wonder, escaped him. A smile broke out on his face. "I can't even be upset anymore. This is just… wow. It's kind of hard to believe."
"Does this make you happy?" Zhongli frowned. "I cannot tell…"
Childe's laughter became full-fledged, and Zhongli stared, bewildered. He was glad Childe seemed to be in high spirits, but…
"Is something funny?" he asked. Childe shook his head and calmed himself down, a few last giggles slipping out.
"Sorry, sorry," he said. "Yes, I'm happy. I'm really, really happy, xiansheng." His voice softened. "I forgive you. And, for the record, I love you too."
The glow in Zhongli's hair brightened. "Truly?" he said. "Your anger does not compel you to discard our relationship after what happened?"
Another laugh. "Emotions are more complicated than that, Zhongli. I've liked you for a while now, and that's not just going to disappear when I get hurt. Rather, it's because I like you so much that it hurt so badly in the first place. And like you said, you'll work to make it up to me, right?"
Zhongli smiled, relieved. "I will do whatever it takes."
"In that case…" Childe scooted closer on the couch, grinning. Zhongli wasted no time in wrapping one arm around the harbinger's waist, using the other hand to cradle the back of his head, and pulling him in for a kiss.
It felt like Zhongli was floating. To a god of the earth, that was a foreign sensation, but he relished in it, burying his fingers in Childe's fluffy hair and cherishing the way the ginger sighed into the kiss. He wanted to stay there forever.
He did, however, remember that humans needed to breathe, so he allowed Childe to pull back to gasp for air.
"I was going to ask if I could touch your horns," the harbinger said. "But that was a thousand times better."
Zhongli chuckled. "Ah, my apologies. Yes, you may touch them," he said, dipping his head.
"Don't apologize," Childe said, eagerly skimming his hands along the golden antlers. "I think you should do it again when I'm done."
"I won't deny you that," Zhongli said, and he kept his word. Childe hummed happily when the archon kissed him again. Ah, how lucky he was. Zhongli was going to cherish this moment—cherish Childe—for the rest of his existence. "Thank you, Childe," he murmured, "for forgiving me."
Childe hesitated. "Ajax," he said quietly. "Can you, uh… call me Ajax?"
Zhongli smiled. He'd known the names Childe and Tartaglia were aliases, and he'd long been curious as to what the harbinger's true name could be. "Ajax? A wonderful name."
Childe's eyes brightened. "Heh… thanks," he said. "And what about you? Did you want to be called Morax, or…?"
Zhongli hummed, seemingly in thought, though the only thing he was really focusing on was brushing his thumbs along the calluses on Childe's hands. "Any name would please me, so long as it falls from your lips."
"Xiansheng!" Childe protested, dropping his head onto Zhongli's chest, though not before the god saw how he blushed harder, serving to further bring out the freckles on his cheeks. Zhongli laughed, ruffling his hair.
"I mean it," he said. "You may call me whatever you wish."
"Fine then, stupid," Childe muttered, but Zhongli could feel the way he smiled into his chest.
"Quite creative."
Childe sighed contentedly, shuffling unceremoniously to sit on Zhongli's lap and wrapping his limbs around him tightly. "I know," he mumbled, snuggling closer. Zhongli returned the embrace gently, enveloping Childe in his warmth and stroking his hand down the harbinger's back.
"Ajax, will you tell me what has hurt you now?" he asked quietly. "I wish to help you to the best of my ability."
"Mm… someday," Childe murmured. "It's a long story, though, so I'd better save it for another time."
"All right," Zhongli said, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head, "no matter. You are safe with me anyway. I do not know how much I can do to keep the Qixing off your back now, though… my apologies."
"It's fine," Childe laughed, "I kind of deserve it for nearly drowning them."
Zhongli squeezed him more firmly in disagreement. "Well, you are in no condition to deal with it right now. Will you let me take care of you?"
"If it's you," Childe sighed, "I don't think that would be so bad. In fact, I think I'm already starting to feel a little better. Just keep… doing what you're doing…" The harbinger yawned. "I love you, Zhongli."
Zhongli smiled, giving him another kiss. "Sleep well, Ajax," he said. "I love you too."
"Love you… don't be a dream." Childe's voice was faint, barely audible at this point.
"I will be here when you wake," Zhongli said, and he meant it. He vowed to stay by Childe's side from now until forever, for as long as the harbinger allowed it. So he stayed there the whole night, breathing gradually evening out as he, too, dozed off.
His last waking thought was about something he'd thought earlier, when Childe showed up at his door. One of my people…
Childe was loyal to the Tsaritsa. That much was true, but Zhongli couldn't help but subconsciously lay claim to the young man. This soft face, so peaceful and sweet as he slept, was a precious thing, and it was one he wanted to hold and cherish for a long time to come. He didn't want to relinquish it back into the clutches of the Cryo Archon. Mine… he thought warmly. He is mine.
And every part of me will always be his.