Chapter Text
A month ago, Ajax would have cackled with laughter if someone had told him Dottore would be somebody’s husband, yet here he was, sitting in a glorious silver-dominated wedding ballroom paid entirely by the Fatui as part of the enviable prerogative for being a Harbinger. The announcement came as a surprise to everyone, especially when they found out that the bride was a grounded and beautiful lady who gave a sheepish grin when she received praise and spoke in a murmur until she was often asked to repeat her words. It was like matching a doe with a lion.
According to the speech Dottore made in front of approximately five hundred guests, she worked at his favorite bakery in the capital. That was how they met and fell in love with each other. They had been together for more than a year, but nobody knew about it. As if we cared about his love life, hissed the diplomat who sat beside Ajax, followed by soft giggles around the table for ten. Who doesn’t want to marry a wealthy Harbinger? another person added, implying that the woman could be nothing more than a leech.
Ajax chuckled at the skepticism, but he wondered if they would have said the same thing if he had been the one standing on the stage. It might look like he attentively listened to the host of the party, who wore an exquisite dark brown suit that made him appear slightly more personable than usual and swayed his hands around like he had told the best joke of the century when the only people laughing were his obsequious subordinates, but a surge of thoughts emerged from the back of his mind.
What if it was him who married the love of his life? White had always been her favorite color—she wore it all the time—so she wouldn’t have a hard time picking the most classic and gorgeous dress. Is he sane? Does the Tsaritsa even allow this? He could imagine what his so-called friends would say behind his back, so then he envisioned a different setting that would make his future wife happy; it was just the two of them in their back garden with their closest family and friends. He dreamed of having a grand celebration, but something simple would be magical as long as it was with her.
After dinner that mainly consisted of roasted fish and greens, he requested a glass of whisky sour from the bartender. He sat down while pretending to relate to others’ opinions about the ballroom’s lavish decoration. Three servings later, he asked for another glass before going to a row of gold and black artificial flowers on one corner. There was nothing to watch but the sea of people who enjoyed the tune of a Snezhnayan wedding song written and sung by the most celebrated female performer in the nation. A dozen folk dancers waited near the backstage, ready to jump in after the star reached her final high note.
He wouldn’t have taken a moment’s respite if a certain person hadn’t barged into his supposedly joyful night out, but this was beyond his control. Solely based on how many times he claimed to have forgotten about her, she must have been his greatest long-lasting lie. Is it her birthday today? I didn’t realize it, he had told his youngest brother after eating her favorite chocolate cake in her favorite park. It wasn’t even that serious, he would explain to anyone who asked if he still held her in his heart, laughing and making merry as if they didn’t spend six years together.
Three years had passed since then. The affliction had lessened with time, but did it mean anything if it hadn’t completely vanished? Last month, he thought about her when looking at a pair of baby shoes on display on his way home from grocery shopping. Just to stop grieving over the fact that they could have been the lucky parents who bought the tiny footwear, he spent the entire evening drinking to help himself sleep faster. Indeed, he collapsed on his couch and woke up feeling like an undead being, but it was better than staying up all night and mulling over what he had lost.
“Childe, what are you doing here?”
Ajax glanced to his left, pursing his lips at the sight of Pulcinella, the sixth member of the Fatui Harbingers, who marched steadily toward him. “You speak as if it’s illegal for me to be here. Don’t worry, I’ll join the dance floor soon. As always,” he muttered, sipping his drink while averting his gaze back to the crowd.
“Something’s on your mind?” Pulcinella guessed. Ajax’s discomfort must be evident because he immediately added, “There are a lot of pretty single women around. I overheard some talk about wanting to get to know our youngest Harbinger. Don’t you want to try?”
Ajax brought his glass down to his chin and pulled a corner of his mouth to form a lopsided smile before drinking again. He wasn’t surprised by the intrusiveness. The same question had been uttered a thousand times in the past few years because Pulcinella always treated him like a clueless son. It was innocuous for a while, but as he grew older and learned that solitude was priceless, he wished he hadn’t been too open. Then again, there was nobody else he could run to among the two-faced Fatui executives.
“I will. Thank you for telling me,” Ajax replied, although he knew Pulcinella could discern his lack of interest. It was further confirmed when the old man released a long strenuous breath like he was drained from chattering with a distraught kid who couldn’t be saved. The disposition was quite degrading, but Ajax had to shut up and nod his head to everything if he wanted to be left alone soon. It worked better than refusing any kind of advice, which would definitely shift into a frivolous debate about an unresolved matter.
“You’re in your thirties now,” Pulcinella remarked.
That was new. Ajax took another sip, slowly this time, before raising his voice, “I get it. I’ll bring someone home if that’s what’s proper.” Should I immediately propose to her as well? Half of the Harbingers are unmarried despite pushing fifty, yet you don’t meddle with their businesses like you do with mine, he almost spat out, but he was still aware of what could save him from this grating conversation. On the other hand, he reminded himself that Pulcinella’s intention was nothing but kind.
“Take care, Childe.” Thankfully, it was quick for Pulcinella to give up. He patted Ajax’s shoulder before heaving another sigh and walking away to be with some other people who should entertain him more than a person who clearly didn’t want to be disturbed.
But because of Pulcinella, Ajax finally noticed some women in bright lipsticks who gawked at him like a luxurious painting. When he glared back at them, they turned their heads to the other side and shamelessly giggled as if it was a sign that they shared the same idea about what kind of romantic rendezvous could happen between them in the next thirty minutes. He swirled the alcohol around in his glass before chugging it in one go. Of course, he was lying. Pulcinella wasn’t an idiot who couldn’t pick up his sarcasm about pleasuring some random woman throughout the night.
After the music changed into a cheerful jam and the hired dancers took up the middle area of the ballroom, Ajax did only one thing he told Pulcinella; he joined the attendees and moved alongside them. He grabbed somebody’s mother’s hand and danced with her, making the elder laugh, which slightly soothed his heart because it reminded him of his mother. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to choose someone his age and whisper sweet nothings to their ear, but he couldn’t bring himself to even try it. Pulcinella, who stood near Dottore, looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.
As soon as the party was over, Ajax buttoned his coat and left early without saying goodbye to anyone, not even the bride and groom, lest he was trapped by people who would only waste his energy. Spring had come in Snezhnaya, but the roads and roofs were still covered in a thick layer of snow as though the seasons were moving in reverse. It would take a few more weeks before everything melted and wildflowers began to bloom, but when was the last time he felt any sort of excitement about a new year? Birthdays, vacations, births, funerals—was he really too old to become ardent about these occasions?
The misty mountain range was looming high in the distance, somehow looking menacing as he walked past the guarded building’s gate and turned left to head home. He knew that person had affected the way he viewed this city. When she first came here, she couldn’t stop talking about how the mountains made her think about landslides that could steal thousands of lives in a beat. He explained that nobody lived at the dangerous foothills, and if an unpredicted disaster were to strike them, he would sacrifice everyone, even himself, to save her. She burst out laughing, but he insisted he was serious.
“Will you actually do that? Will you sacrifice your family for my sake?” she had asked, a cold puff of air escaping her lips. That early autumn morning in Morepesok, far south from where he was now, his father had told him to purchase some fresh berries from the market to garnish their breakfast pancakes with. He would love to leave her to bond with his family, but he decided to bring her along to introduce her more to the sleepy seaside village where he was born and raised. Also, he could never get enough of seeing how cute she was being wrapped in his older sister’s coat that was a size too big for her petite frame.
“I do love you more than anything in the world. If my family begged me not to be with you, I would leave them instead,” he confessed before snickering at her flushed cheeks that obviously weren’t caused by the weather. “What’s wrong? You should know this,” he teased.
“You didn’t answer my questions!” she groaned before sighing aloud. “Actually, never mind. That’s not a good thing to ask anyone. If you wanted me to choose between you and Aether, I wouldn’t know what to do either. It’s a situation that, hopefully, will never happen to us.”
“But it’ll happen, and you’ll choose Aether.” Unlike before, he forced out a smile, feeling a piece of him died from his own doing. “Isn’t that true? One day, you must leave this world with him, so in a way, you’ll choose him over me.”
“Ah.” She brushed the tip of her nose with her forefinger. “Uh, um, I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry. He remembered getting hurt by the response colder than the sharp gust of wind cutting through the secluded village. He wished she had spoken more about loving him just as much. He wished she had told him that she would never choose Aether or anyone else. He wished she had said she would also sacrifice the world for another minute with him, but she was the least selfish person he had ever known. It wasn’t right for him to be upset because they had agreed to all the glories and consequences of being together.
“You’re my first love,” he said after a short pause. He had no clue where it had come from, but the words just slipped out of his mouth for the first time since they formed their relationship. The following silence between them was longer. He was afraid to get an upsetting reaction that he almost laughed it off and said he was just kidding around, but the visible sadness in her eyes changed his mind. It was funny how she still hadn’t gotten used to the subject of love.
“First love. How do you determine that?” She tucked her hair behind both of her ears and gazed down at the gravel road that would lead them to the daily market on the west side of the village. “I’ve read many books and heard many stories. Usually, after couples fought and everything ended, they would say that what they felt before wasn’t love. It was just an infatuation or confusion. Moreover, you must have liked some other girls before me, so how could I be your first love?”
“What other girls? I’ve told you before, I was never in love with anyone before you came. Do you not trust me?” he asked, feeling another pinch in his heart. It was the most painful one so far. Perhaps he should have talked about something, but he was more curious about what was wrong with her. What did his siblings feed her before they left the house? What did they say when she helped them with dinner last night?
“That doesn’t have anything to do with trust. I was just wondering, but frankly speaking, it doesn’t matter, does it? Don’t you think your last love is more important than anyone else before that? You’re young. I won’t be your last, so you should focus more on your future. What will you do after I’m gone?” she nonchalantly replied.
He squeezed his fists as every step and breath he took got heavier. “You’re right. I’ll find someone prettier and sweeter than you. She’ll be marvelous at everything, even swordsmanship.”
“I’m sure she will,” she said with a chuckle that seemed too genuine for a promise of replacing her. At that moment, he remembered considering breaking it off with her by the end of the day. Sick thoughts flooded his mind and encouraged him to hurt her in the worst way possible before she could do it to him first, but his anger only lasted for two seconds before she smiled, and he recalled her warmth when she napped on his chest and hugged him tightly after not seeing each other for a whole week.
He stopped blabbering, opting to grip her gloved hand and pull her closer to him so their shoulders touched one another. The rowan trees along the road hadn’t fully shed their leaves. The weather in Morepesok was a tad warmer than the other regions in Snezhnaya, but it was still considerably rougher than the harshest winter in Natlan. She talked about getting other fruits and maybe visiting the blacksmith before lunch because she wanted to refine her weapon. As always, he said yes to everything she needed.
One block before the market, there was the bluest public lake he had laid his eyes upon, surrounded by golden roots and chamomiles. In the nighttime, crystalflies would fill the yard and turn it into scenery from fairytales. He used to boast about the place to his colleagues who had never set foot in Morepesok, but it was difficult to admire the beauty of his hometown when she was standing next to him. She outshined everything he had ever known, so how could he let another hand touch him? How could he fall out of love with the person who owned his soul?