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The grass crunches beneath his feet, frozen solid by the morning frost. He should not come here, is not built to survive this place, and yet every morning he finds himself drawn north.
It is more than just his nature– for dragons are creatures of the sun– that should oblige him to avoid this place. If he isn't careful, he'll pass into unseelie territory, and from that he knows there will be no return.
Here, though, with the frozen grass and tall shadows of the evergreen trees, there is still some semblance of safety. And here, every morning, he comes to watch a winter faerie dance.
It's the same faerie, every time; one having taken the appearance of a tall young man with hair too firey to fit the frozen wastes in which he lives. The first time Zhongli had seen him, the first time he'd wandered this far, it'd been an accident, but the other times–
The faerie's limbs are long, his movements graceful, like the breaths of a princess charmed into eternal sleep. There's an unpredictablity to them as well, a pattern that only makes sense in hindsight, almost like a highly trained solider on the battlefield. He has no music, and his moves are different every morning, as if his unseen partner is the rhythm of the earth itself. If that's the case, then Zhongli supposes it's only natural that he keeps finding himself here.
With one last sweeping step, the faerie comes to a stop. The world seems to sigh. He raises his head, otherwise still tucked into his finishing position, and looks Zhongli dead in the eye.
"I know you've been watching me, stranger."
He smiles. He has too many teeth.
Zhongli emerges from behind the tree that evidently had not been cover enough to hide him. He is not bound to the rules of the fae, but nevertheless finds when dealing with them honesty is often the best policy.
"I hope you do not mind," he says. "It's just that you look beautiful."
He laughs, the sound sharp as ice. Up close, Zhongli can see that his eyes are a blue more vibrant than is fitting someone surrounded by so much snow.
"I like you," he says, and he knows it's the truth. "May I have your name?"
"No you may not," says Zhongli. He may nurse a certain admiration for this faerie, but he knows better than to lose at the unseelie's games. "You may call me Zhongli."
The faerie smiles again, still somehow unnatural.
"You're a smart one," he says, and something in Zhongli's chest flutters for reasons he cannot begin to guess at.
He steps closer, close enough that Zhongli can feel his breath on his face and see the little icicles that form on his pretty eyelashes.
"You may call me Childe," he says. "Come see me again, would you?"
~
He walks home slowly, letting the memory of the encounter linger on his lips like fine wine. He hadn't replied to Childe then, but he thinks they both know that he'll return tomorrow.
He cannot help but welcome the feel of the Liyue sun and the warmth it massages into his very bones. If there is anything he would change about these little excursions of his, it would be to raise the temperature just a tiny bit.
Soon, sooner than he'd expected, the bustle of the city comes into view, along with a familiar silhouette at the gates.
"Rex Lapis!" Calls Guizhong. "Where have you been?"
Guizhong is his fiancee. They have been engaged as long as he can remember. He does not really know why they aren't married yet.
"Just taking a morning walk," he says. She sighs, tucking her arm into his and pulling them deeper into the heart of the city.
"Well, good thing you're back, because we missed you. There's a couple things I wanted to ask you about."
If Guizhong wants to ask him about something, it can only be about frontline battle plans. She has always been the brains between the two of them, with him stepping up for the physical combat. This is never something he has minded, especially seeing as how well it's worked out.
They arrive at their destination, the palace at the city's heart where the two of them reside. The guards open the gates for them without so much as a second glance.
Guizhong pulls him into a room he's quite used to seeing, despite the miniscule amount of time he actually spends in it– the war room, where she lays all her genius plans in both war and peace time.
"Here," she says, gesturing at a map. "I wanted to shore up the northern defenses in the event of an unseelie attack–"
"No need."
She stares, waiting for him to continue. He hardly ever disagrees with her like this.
"If the unseelie attack, it will not be through a physical strike," he explains. That, at least, is believable, but he'll need more if he's to convince her.
"... I have spent time near that border, as of late," he admits. "I've seen no signs to indicate they're preparing for war."
Guizhong frowns, her eyes narrowing.
"You shouldn't go up there," she mutters. "It's not safe. You may overpower them, but they'll play a tricky strategy you might not see coming."
He does not respond to that. She only sighs.
"If what you say is true, then you're right," she admits. "I will adjust my plans."
It is a rare concession from her. She normally plows through his suggestions, and her plans always work, so he figures he can't fault her.
"There is one more thing," she says, strangely nervous. "I was wondering if you'd want to help with our wedding planning–"
"It's being planned?" It's the first he'd heard of it, despite being both the bridegroom and, technically, emperor.
"Well," Guizhong says, looking away as if embarrassed. "No, but I just thought–"
"Weddings are costly affairs," he says. The fact that this is a wedding between two ruling Gods, no less, goes unmentioned. "If you suspect war is going to break out soon, wouldn't it be best to save our supplies while we can?"
"... Yes, you're right," she admits with a sigh. She looks at him, and smiles. "I'd just like to finally get married, that's all. I wasn't thinking logically."
Guizhong is a good friend, his closest. He and his country would not be anywhere near the place they are today without her. He cares for her very much.
"Soon," he promises. "When things settle down."
~
Childe waits for him to come, and Zhongli makes no attempt to hide himself. They do not speak when he arrives, but Childe smiles, and starts to move.
It is somehow faster than yesterday, with his familiar sweeping movements accompanied by precise footwork that crunches the frost below him. Zhongli watches, enraptured, closer than he's ever been before. From this distance, he can really see the subtleties in his moves, and the way in which they really do remind him of a highly skilled combatant. There's a deadly precision to every step he takes.
Childe soon stops, making one last final, grand, step, before ceasing his dance. Zhongli claps, finally able to give his applause.
"I apologize if it wasn't to your liking. I am quite used to doing this alone."
"It was marvelous," says Zhongli, and he wishes that he suffered from the same curse as the fae just so that Childe would know he really meant it. "May I ask you a question?"
Childe looks over at him, a glimmer in his eye and the corners of his lips titled up just ever so slightly.
"Other strangers would surely just make say what they want to hear. Some of my comrades have told me the most terrible stories."
"I would not force you to reveal any secrets."
Childe laughs, the sound filling the frozen air like birdsong.
"Permission to speak. I swear I will keep my secrets to myself."
"Why do you dance here?"
He blinks, like the question has taken him off guard. Zhongli doesn't know what he was expecting.
"I'm obliged to come out this way for work," he says softly. "I have a certain fondness for the performing arts that am unable to express at home, so I reserve the time to dance here."
Home– Zhongli cannot help but wonder what the home of the unseelie is like. He's heard the arts are banned there, and so has always assumed ots a dreary place. Zhongli, being a dragon, is not a formal member of the summer court, but is nonetheless aligned with them and therefore quite familiar with their penchant for dance. He almost wants to say Childe would be better of there, but there is a fondness in his voice when he speaks of his home, as well as a deadly precision in his movements, that convinces Zhongli he's in the just the right court.
"I am glad," he starts, speaking slowly, "that you come out this way. I am inspired by you each morning."
"To lie is to sin," says Childe, not quite bringing up his hand fast enough to cover the blush on his face.
~
Guizhong reaches across the table, taking his hand in hers.
"Are you alright?" She says softly. "You seem like you've been distracted, the last couple days."
She really is wonderful. Being a military genius does not limit her kindness at all.
"I'm fine," he says. "It is nothing."
~
Childe's dance is slower today, more uncertain, like a bird not quite ready to leave the nest. Zhongli applauds it all the same.
"I apologize," says Childe slowly, reaching to embrace one of Zhongli's hands in both of his. The touch is electric even through both their gloves. "I must ask you not to come tomorrow."
"Have I done something to offend you? I assure you, I–"
"Nothing of the sort, I swear." Childe looks at him, fluttering his snowflake-studded lashes. "You'll discover my reasons, I assure you. Perhaps even in the most… unexpected of places."
Gently, not breaking eye contact, Childe presses a kiss to the back of his hand. The kiss of a faerie is a powerful thing– Zhongli will surely be thinking about this for days, months to come.
"We will see each other," he whispers. "My word is my bond."
~
"Morax! Oh, thank Celestia you're here," shouts Guizhong, her normally impeccable hair fallen out of place. "It's the unseelie."
Zhongli's heart drops. Surely Childe could not have meant–
"They're sending a diplomatic mission, to arrive tomorrow."
He hides his relieved sigh as best he can, and then jumps right into the thick of it to help Guizhong with the preparations. A diplomatic visit is a complex thing, and they've hardly got enough time to get all the necessities ready.
It would be a great help to know what kind of faerie will be visiting, even if only as part of the retinue. Guizhong would surely give a great deal to get such an insider tip.
Zhongli says nothing.
~
Court the next day is teeming with anxiety and excitement, all of it centered around Guizhong and her attendants. Even though her throne is right next to his, he somehow feels very far away from her.
Finally, a horn is sounds and the ornate doors open. Rather than the party they'd all been expecting, though, it is only a single faerie who enters. Something about that strikes Zhongli as odd, but that small thought is soon completely eclipsed.
Childe, in full regalia, smiles politely and drops into something that is not quite a bow and not quite a curtsy. His eyes meet Zhongli's for an imperceptible second, but whatever emotion he feels at seeing him on the throne is quickly suppressed.
Zhongli, for his part, thanks his stony demeanor. He had not expected for Childe to be a harbinger.
"Good morning, your imperial majesties," Childe says. His eyes flick up, straight to Guizhong's. There is the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
With that, his eyes slide right back over to Zhongli.
"I am lord Tartaglia, the 11th of the Tsarista's harbingers. Given how close your lovely Liyue is to our sweet Snezhnaya, it is my sincerest hope that we shall be able to become friendly with each other."
Guizhong is normally the one to speak at these things, is opening her mouth to do so, but Zhongli cuts her off before she can even begin to talk.
"Are we not friendly already, Tartaglia? Your Tsarista must think very highly of us if she is to send one of her harbingers here unguarded."
A low murmur sweeps through court. Guizhong shoots him a look– that is absolutely not what she would have said. He knows she thinks that Tartaglia is planning some nefarious trick.
But Guizhong knows nothing, and Zhongli is not really talking to Tartaglia, the 11th harbinger.
"Indeed we are," Childe smiles.
"The rules of our land are strict," interjects Guizhong. "I would hope you are able to behave yourself. I cannot control what Liyueans will think of you, nor can I protect you from their ire."
"I would not think so, not would I be able to offer you that kindness in Snezhnaya." His tone is flat, almost bored, in a way that Zhongli has never heard it before. He doesn't even realize how much he loves his playful lilt until it's gone. "I would hope that you can offer me breakfast, however."
~
Breakfast is a tense affair, not even so much because of Childe but because of the tension between him and Guizhong. She is upset with him, he thinks, but he cannot bring himself to care.
"Your dishes are delightful," says Childe, "although I am afraid I must admit defeat when faced with such serving tools."
Sure enough, he has given up on the chopsticks completely, using them instead like skewers. Zhongli cannot help but smile fondly. It's endearing to see someone he knows is so capable struggle with something like this.
"Here," he says, reaching out and gently shadowing Childe's hand with his own. "It's best to hold them like this" – he moves his fingers– "almost like a writing utensil. Keep your hand low, it'll be easier that way."
The demonstration is done, but he finds he does not want to pull his hand away. He can feel every delicate muscle in Childe's hand, and marvels at the way those hands can paint both beauty and destruction. Almost subconsciously, he finds himself stroking the other man's fingers.
Guizhong coughs loudly.
"Excuse us, but Rex Lapis and I have some business to attend to. We must be going now."
She gets up, pulling him up with her and practically dragging him out of the room. He cannot help but look back at Childe, finding his blue eyes wide and unblinking.
Guizhong lets go of him, and he continues to follow her all the way to her bedroom. There's no chance that they'll be interrupted here.
She stops, still facing away from him, and sighs. After a moment, she turns, her robes swirling after her. On her face she wears a look of undeniable concern.
"I'm worried about you," she says. "You've been different the last few days."
He blinks. He thinks he has been as he always has.
"If this is about Tartaglia, I simply realized that we had met before, and did not wish to appear–"
"I don't know! Is it about Tartaglia? You tell me."
"... I'm sorry, I don't know–"
She collapses into her desk, her head coming to rest in her hands. He remains standing in the middle of the room, suddenly unsure what he ought to do with his hands.
Guizhong sits there quietly for a minute, breathing heavily. He cannot remember ever having seen her so uncollected.
"You love the people of Liyue, don't you?" She says, her voice somehow hollow.
"I do. Of course I do."
"And do you–"
She pauses.
"And you would do anything to protect them?"
"Of course."
He doesn't quite know why Guizhong is asking these things, but knowing her her reasoning is more than sound. He is happy to answer, if that is what she wants.
She pulls herself up to sit a little straighter, and turns towards him. Her eyes glisten, slightly, as if wet with diamonds.
"Go back to your Tartaglia," she whispers, her voice as soft as the morning breeze.
He wants to interject, to say that Tartaglia is not his, but the atmosphere is somehow stifling. He turns, and walks away.
~
Despite Guizhong's request, he does not see Tartaglia again until quite late that evening. He'd excused himself from lunch and dinner, claiming business and exhaustion from traveling, and quite strangely Guizhong had as well. Zhongli has never known her to eat alone, but something is different now, something he cannot quite parse.
He lies awake, considering that very question. With a sigh, he decides to write off sleep for now and heads out to his balcony.
The view of the sea is almost as lovely as the breeze in his hair, but he still finds himself distracted– distracted enough to lose track of the passage of time, but certainly not enough to miss the sound of someone jumping off the roof and landing next to him.
"Strange to see you in the moonlight," says Childe. Zhongli turns, a smile forming on his face.
"Strange, but not unwelcome."
Tartaglia flashes all his teeth, and Zhongli notices that his eyes are reflective like a cat.
"You did not tell me you were Tartaglia."
"And you did not tell me you were Rex Lapis. That makes us even, does it not?"
Despite his words, he still fidgets slightly with his hands. Childe may not be able to lie, Zhongli thinks, but that does not mean he's obliged to tell the truth.
"There's still something bothering you," he murmurs.
"I am as carefree as the cereus flower in the morning light."
"The cereus is a type of cactus that blooms only at night."
Childe lets out a dramatic sigh, half-collapsing against the palace wall.
"Your wife," he admits.
"Guizhong? Yes, I suppose she must have caused your court much trouble in the past. She's truly unmatched when it comes to the art of war. I must admit that I am glad to be her ally rather than her enemy."
Childe looks downcast, as Zhongli speaks, then confused, then upset again.
"I was not aware you were married."
Zhongli blinks. It seems as if more than usual is going over his head today.
"I am not. Guizhong is merely my fiancee."
Childe sighs, then laughs, the sound of it sharp like freezing air. He throws his head back as he does, and Zhongli cannot help but marvel at the way the moonlight reflects off the skin of his throat.
"Tell me, Lord Rex Lapis," says Childe, eyes playful yet sharp, "do you love her?"
"She is my closest friend in all the world," he replies, the answer coming to him as easy as breathing. "We compliment each other well. Our partnership has maintained Liyue's prosperity for centuries."
Childe grins, taking Zhongli's hand and leaning in close.
"How lovely," he says. He largely sounds relieved, but there is something else almost maniacal in his eyes, something Zhongli's never seen even in the most battle-ready soliders. "Say– a part of me longs for the sea. Would you escort me there tomorrow?"
Zhongli doesn't see the connection, but finds himself nodding nonetheless. He would not turn down an opportunity to spend time with Childe, even if it was in the strangest and most unpleasant of circumstances.
~
They head out after breakfast, which Guizhong had again opted to take alone. Zhongli worries about her, in brief flashes, but then Childe is in front of him again, filling his brain with thoughts of swirling snow.
Zhongli opts to take the two of them through the gardens, both to establish that he's not afraid to be seen with Childe (for the sake of peace among the court for those who still object to him, of course) and, admittedly, to show off. The gardens are beautiful and he wants Childe to see them.
Childe walks with a skip in his step, smiling. Zhongli finds himself looking at him instead of the flowers.
Soon, he hears the sound of distant music, and realizes that they aren't alone.
"Follow me," he says. "I'd like to give my compliments to the musician."
Childe does, and Zhongli follows the sound to none other than Streetward Rambler plucking at strings beneath a ginkgo tree. She brings an end to her song as they approach, and looks up at Zhongli with a measured smile. He's somewhat surprised to see her out in the gardens, given that she is Guizhong's most trusted retainer and the other woman has been upset in the past days, but does not regret having had the chance to hear her music.
"Lord Rex Lapis," she greets politely. "And this must be our unseelie visitor?"
"My name is Tartaglia. I send you my highest compliments– your song was truly superb."
"You flatter me," she says, without any laughter in her tone. "Please, call me Streetward Rambler. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Her eyes slide back over to Zhongli, and he suspects that she isn't here just to play a few songs. Spying at court is nothing he's not used to, but it's also nothing Guizhong has done to him before. It's a novel feeling, and he finds a part of himself strangely happy at the thought.
"Whatever could you two be talking about?" She asks.
"Nothing at all, really," Zhongli says. "Our friend here simply wished to see the water, and I thought I'd accompany him."
"If that's all, you should have left through the front. It's much shorter that way."
"Did you really take me the long way, Rex Lapis?" Interjects Childe. He seems to be almost brimming with glee. "You truly are a most benevolent ruler. It is common knowledge that flowers do not grow in the frozen unseelie court, and I am very grateful for the opportunity to see so many."
Childe is still smiling. There's something almost nefarious about it now, but Zhongli can't quite see through it. He's never been one for mind games.
Streetward Rambler frowns, then straightens, then plasters a picture-perfect smile to her face.
"I am glad you appreciate the kindness of our emperor," she says. "I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here."
~
They finally manage to get to the beach, after a few more hours meandering through the gardens, and Childe gasps in delight at the sight of the water. He dips his hand into it, and pulls out a spear which at first appears crystalline but soon proves itself to be liquid by melting into several other forms.
"I've heard of your control over water, but never seen it in person. The rumors don't do you justice– your work is magnificent."
Childe, bashful, curtsies, the weapon in his hand returning to the sea.
"I am flattered to see you think so highly of me. I still have room to improve."
"It must have been hard to practice in Snezhnaya. I've heard liquid water is hard to come by there."
Childe smiles with too many teeth.
"That environment is precisely why I'm so skilled."
He turns with a laugh, skipping a few steps further down the shoreline. Zhongli rushes to catch up with him.
"In Snezhnaya, you have to take the most out of what you can get. If you can't squeeze blood from a stone, and forge that blood into a blade, you'll be left behind to rot. This is the lifestyle that makes us such superb weapons."
"I certainly hope that your weapons won't ever turn on Liyue."
Childe stops abruptly, turning to him with a serious expression.
"Zhongli, I–"
"Would do fulfill a selfish request of mine?"
Childe, evidently thrown off, blinks. Zhongli does have a request, but more than that he does not want Childe to admit to any state secrets. Zhongli doesn't want to know anymore if the unseelie are planning to invade– it would make things far too complicated.
"Yes," says Childe quietly. His answer is almost lost in the sound of the waves.
"Would you dance for me here?"
Rather than answer verbally, Childe moves into his favorite starting position. His dance today begins with a number of short, staccato steps, but by the end of it he's shifted into longer sweeping movements almost reminiscent of the waves.
Zhongli, as always, cannot help but applaud when he finishes. His heart fills with some kind of admiration he cannot quite put a name to.
"You were beautiful," he says.
Childe turns towards him. His eyes are somehow sad.
"You know not what you say," he replies.
~
Guizhong reappears the next morning at breakfast, her features set, and Childe quickly makes himself scarce.
"We need to talk," she tells Zhongli, and so he finds himself in her bedroom.
She looks at him, sighs, and then walks to her window. She turns back towards him, and he sees her face falter for a brief moment before she turns away once more.
"That Tartaglia," she says, measured, "what is your relationship with him?"
"I would consider him a friend."
Guizhong says nothing for a moment, and then another, and Zhongli feels compelled to keep speaking.
"I happened to run into him a few times near the border. Neither of us knew of the other's real identity, but managed to develop a respect for each other. I find that our relationship has only improved with the knowledge of our positions."
"Are you lying to me?"
"Guizhong, I would never–"
She turns back to face him. Zhongli is shocked to see quiet tears running down her face– he can't recall a single other time he's seen her cry.
"You're in love with him, Zhongli."
"I–"
"You are. You've only know him for a few days, but you look at him like you've never looked at me."
"... You are my dear friend, Guizhong. I have never wanted to hurt you."
"I know," she says, voice shaky and uneven. "I think I've known for a long time."
She turns away from him again, and he has a fleeting fear that he will never see her face again.
"Go be with him," she says.
~
The next few days pass uneventfully. He does not see Guizhong, instead accompanying Childe everywhere he goes. The two of them wander the palace grounds discussing everything from actual politics to the migration habits of whales to absolutely nothing at all. Zhongli doesn't know if Guizhong had been right, but in any case these days are some of the most carefree of his life.
He doesn't know if he's in love with him. He doesn't feel any different now than he did before, but maybe he's just always been in love with Childe.
He cares about Guizhong, but he can't recall his heart ever racing at the sight of her the way it does when he sees Childe. The way it threatens to beat out of his chest whenever the faerie looks back at him, with the golden sunlight spilling through his hair–
He's known Guizhong for a long time, and she's hardly ever wrong.
~
His balcony has seen more use in the past week than it has in the past hundred years– Zhongli's taken to waiting on it for Childe every night. Childe hasn't come, not since the first night, but Zhongli sits there waiting for him anyways. He can't bring himself to consider it wasted time, however, not when it gives him such a good opportunity to think.
Zhongli has never been the one to sit and think deeply about strategy– that's Guizhong's job– but the more he thinks about Childe the more he cannot help but think about the unseelie court. Childe didn't come to Liyue just for him, after all.
He has met the unseelie queen. The Tsarista is a strict sort of god, having gone so far as to ban all the arts, and certainly isn't above a suicide play. Childe had broken the rules with the dancing, not even to mention his relationship with Zhongli, so despite his position as a harbinger Zhongli can't help but think that he's a sacrifice.
Childe, he suspects, was sent here to die. It's a feeling he's had for a while. There's no other reason he would have come without any guards at all. Childe's a playful sort or person, and playfulness too often draws ire, and if he'd angered the wrong member of the Liyue court– Guizhong, for example–
Zhongli feels his fists tighten. He will not let Childe die.
He doesn't even feel guilty that his drive to save him isn't based on the war the Tsarista would use his death to excuse. Briefly, he wonders if Guizhong was wrong, if he had been in love with her, but that mere exposure to Childe had since warped him into someone unrecognizable. He finds he doesn't care. He wouldn't regret loving Childe either way.
~
Childe laughs as walks along the beach, each step kicking up big splashes of seawater. The sound of it isn't melodic, not really, but there's something about it that captures Zhongli all the same.
"I've had a good time here, really," he says. Something about his tone gives Zhongli pause.
"I'm glad to hear it. Do know you can stay as long as you like."
Childe stops, and the water quickly goes glassy.
"You must know that's not true. The Tsarista isn't about to let me go, and the same goes for you and your court."
He looks out over the water with a tension in his body that almost makes it seem as if he's looking for something in particular.
"Listen, Zhongli," he says, turning back towards him, "I'm going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it as of you were me. Honestly, that is."
"I will not let any harm come to you," Zhongli says quickly. "This is my honest answer– I will not let the Tsarista, nor anyone else, sacrifice you as a pawn in their games."
Childe blinks, and takes a few steps towards him.
"... That is not what I was going to ask, but I think it answers my question all the same."
He's so close by now that Zhongli can see the separation within the blues of his eyes, the way his eyelashes flutter as he looks just the slightest bit down at Zhongli.
"You can't make that promise, though," he says quietly. "I am a bloodthirsty creature, Zhongli. I want one of your retinue to try and kill me just so I have the excuse to rip your whole court apart. You assume I was sent here to die, but that's not quite true– I was sent here to die or to kill you. Whichever came first."
Something about Childe's demeanor changes, then, and he opens up like a flower full of venom and viscera. Zhongli's caught glimpses of this before, he only realizes now. This isn't the polite and playful dancer, but the crazed and hardened killer. This is the eleventh harbinger, and Zhongli–
Zhongli loves him all the same.
He grasps Childe's hands, leaning in.
"Run away with me," he says. He's not thinking but he doesn't care. "Say you kidnapped me and that you're betraying the Tsarista. Let everyone send their hounds after us, and let me watch you as you fight them off."
Childe laughs, and Zhongli realizing that he's hearing the real thing for the first time. It's loose, maniacal, and the most beautiful sound he's ever heard.
"That's the worst idea I've ever heard. Why on earth would you want to do that? And just for me?"
"Because I'm in love with you," Zhongli says.
Childe laughs again, even louder, but this time Zhongli chases after him.
Kissing Childe is like kissing a hurricane. It's unrelenting, unpredictable, and tastes just a little bit like the sea. There is also, however, the undeniable metallic tinge of blood. Zhongli thinks he might be addicted.
Childe pulls away, tucking his head into Zhongli's shoulder. His whole body is cold, but Zhongli doesn't care. If anything, it's a refreshing break from the unrelenting sunlight.
"Meet me at the front gate tomorrow morning," Childe says.
~
Zhongli rises before even the birds do, when only the smallest ray of the sun has broken above the horizon. The nighttime frost has not yet begun to melt.
He slips out of his chambers before he can begin to miss them. Nobody else is in the hallways as he makes his way through them, and he hopes that his absence will go undetected yet.
Childe meets him just inside with a small smile, and wordlessly they push the front gate open. Childe stops abruptly, and Zhongli turns away from him for a moment to see what it is that had caught his attention.
"I had hoped you wouldn't go through with this," says Guizhong. Streetward Rambler stands solemnly behind her, and Zhongli realizes that she must have been following them yesterday.
"Guizhong. Liyue will continue to prosper under your watch–"
"This isn't about that!" She exclaims. She tries to move towards him, but Streetward Rambler holds her back.
"You're not thinking clearly," she says, measured now, "that unseelie is a trickster–"
"I am," says Childe. "My trick is that I've stolen your fiance. But, if I may– you deserve someone who loves you the way you love them."
His eyes flick to Streetward Rambler. She looks to the ground, though in what emotion Zhongli can't tell.
"He is right," says Zhongli. "I am aware that I'm not acting as I should, but even if I was, you deserve someone else."
"Where you lying when you said I was your best friend?"
"No."
Guizhong looks dejected for a moment, but quickly rallies and puts on a brave expression. She's tenacious, and he has always admired that about her, but for all their years together he has never been in love with her.
"I cannot possibly condone the emperor running away with a faerie from an enemy court. I will have to send some of our soldiers after you."
She smiles, almost brazen.
"Don't let them lay a single finger on you."
Childe bows down to her.
"I'll make sure of that, miss."
She nods, and then slowly walks back inside. Guizhong does not turn back, but Streetward Rambler gives them a small nod as she trails after her. He'll miss both of them, he thinks, but he does not belong in Liyue's court any more.
Zhongli stands there for a moment, but then Childe begins to move and he finds himself, as if drawn in magnetically, following.
Childe turns back to look at him, and smiles. It's something not quite soft and not quite violent. Zhongli wonders if that smile comes from the real Childe, beneath all his different appearances, or if he's just imagining things and that Childe does not exist at all. He must be a fool, he thinks, to give up everything just to be with a man he's not sure he really knows.
Zhongli reaches out and takes his hand. He thinks he's allowed to make a bad choice, if only just this once. Besides, when Childe leans in and kisses him, he can't bring himself to regret it.