Chapter Text
Childe knows how the other Harbingers view him. Always searching out a fight, a mindless beast masquerading as a human, clueless, shameless and only worth the targetable strength he provides. But he is clever - after all, you have to be clever to survive in the Abyss. And thus he does notice the signs, despite how much he doesn't want to, how much he wants to stay ignorant… The golden eyes, the solemn determination for and in the sanctity of contracts, the uncanny knowledge of Liyue's history, the pure ambiance of coiled strength and power, the confidence and assurance in himself and his abilities… He tries so hard to ignore it, he doesn't want it to be true… He wants to be wrong… but somewhere deep inside he does know the truth, he's just refusing to acknowledge it.
Zhongli is Rex Lapis.
Zhongli is Morax. His target. The god and Archon of Liyue. His target.
When he can ignore it no longer, he knows what he must do - despite his conflicted feelings, he has no choice, after all. He knows what Snezhnaya and the Tsaritsa's stance on traitors is - and to willingly fail a mission is to turn traitor. And even moreso, to choose anything, anyone over the Tsaritsa or her orders is a death sentence. He must take the Gnosis, or his life is forfeit.
But it's Zhongli. Zhongli-Xiansheng, who's been nothing but kind to him since he's arrived, who's only helped him find his footing in this foreign land, who's allowed him to find the first peace he's ever felt since he fell into the Abyss. It's Zhongli. And it hurts.
Because this also means he's been lied to. Zhongli has lied to him. But, at the same time, it's also not like Zhongli was trying all that hard to hide it from him either. All the signs were there for him to see - clearly, as he's seen them. The more he considers it, the more he realizes that it's been more of a lie of omission than anything - Zhongli never denied or stated he wasn't Morax, wasn't Rex Lapis. Childe assumed, and Zhongli never said. A lie of omission is still a lie, but hasn't Childe done the same? After all, he never said he was here for the Gnosis, nor did he say he wasn't.
But it still hurts. It hurts that the first person he thought cared about him since the Abyss, the first person he's truly viewed as a friend, hasn't been truly honest with him, hasn't trusted him. It's only made worse when he comes to the realization that Zhongli was right to do so. After all, is he not still going to betray him, despite their friendship - however Zhongli may view it, Childe has seen him as a friend - Childe is still going to take his Gnosis.
A part of himself, one he thought long dead and buried, the small piece that remains Ajax screams and pleads and riots, desperately pointing out that this is their friend, that what is a friendship but a promise of mutual,companionship and protection? They can't break a promise, even one so unspoken. But the larger part that is Tartaglia, the part that is cold, and feral, and has sworn his loyalty to the Tsaritsa insists they have no choice - the Tsaritsa has spoken, and she must be obeyed. The largest part, the part that has been nurtured by and grown in Liyue, is conflicted, confused, and hurt. He doesn't know what to do.
He doesn't know how he's going to do it. He doesn't want to. But he has no choice. He has to take the Gnosis, or his life is forfeit. But oh he doesn't want to. He wants to stay here with Zhongli, in Liyue where he feels calm and safe for the first time since the Abyss. He doesn't want to, but he must.
Zhongli knows something is troubling Childe as of late. A shadow has grown in his dark blue eyes over the past several days, making their lack of light only more evident in his turmoil. Something is troubling him, and Zhongli doesn't know how to help. He doesn't know what it is. And yet, he has a suspicion. After all, the sorrow in those lightless eyes only deepens when they settle on him.
He fears Childe knows.
He fears Childe has figured him out, has realized who he sits and walks beside every day. Especially now that Childe has made a request to have their daily meal outside the Harbor today, to sit in the countryside instead of in Liuli Pavilion, Xinyue Kiosk, or Wanmin Restaurant.
And Zhongli knows what is coming, should his fears be correct and Childe has discovered the truth of his identity. He knows that this is likely a ploy to take his Gnosis, far from the Harbor and the Millelith and any potential interference, and, perhaps, any collateral damage. And he is okay with this. Perhaps it is not how he intended things to proceed, how he intended for the Tsaritsa to acquire his Gnosis, but as long as the contract is fulfilled, as long as Liyue is tested and proves herself, it matters not how the Gnosis is transferred, nor which Harbinger comes into possession of it. Perhaps it was… implied that he would hand over the Gnosis to La Signora, rather than allow Childe to… acquire it by force, but it was never explicitly stated in the contract, therefore it is of little true consequence. A small part of himself is almost pleased that it will be Childe to handle his Gnosis, this trinket that has been a "false heart" to him for so long.
So he goes to meet Childe in the countryside near Luhua Pool, knowing full well he may be going to a fight, to the potentially traumatic loss of the Archon equivalent of a heart. And he resolves himself to his decision - should Childe confront him, he will allow him to take the Gnosis. Not without a fight, that would only be an insult to Childe, to Tartaglia, but he will still allow the… He cannot bring himself to call it theft, as he is allowing it, after all. He will allow the forceful collection of his Gnosis. He has decided. After all, he couldn't bring himself to truly harm Childe, much less kill him - no, he cares far too much for the young rascal to even consider that. He has decided; he will surrender his Gnosis.
Childe trembles when Zhongli arrives. He had almost hoped he wouldn't come. And there's a glint in Zhongli's eyes that only makes the constricting and burning sensation in his chest worse. He's a Hydro User, he doesn't know what it's like to drown, but this is how he imagines it would feel - a burning weight ever growing in your chest. He almost wishes he could.
He remembers a tale Zhongli once told him, of the Hydro god Rex Lapis once pinned beneath his own waters in Guyun Stone Forest, and he wonders if this is how… Osial, he believes Zhongli called him; he wonders if this is how Osial felt, betrayed by what should have been a part of himself, trapped by the very essence of his own being.
Yet he pushes on - he has no choice, he must. He meets Zhongli's eyes, and the glowing Cor Lapis gaze brings another pang to his chest which he struggles to ignore, but he can't bring himself to speak - there's a depth to Zhongli's gaze that, if he didn't know better, would say might be something akin to resignation or solemn decisiveness. Childe cannot bring himself to speak, so it is Zhongli who breaks the silence.
"Childe. I notice we seem to be missing our meal."
Childe holds in a flinch, mustering himself to finally speak, to finally do what must be done.
"Sorry Xiansheng, but I'm afraid we won't be dining together after all today."
Zhongli raises an eyebrow and clasps his hands behind his back.
"Oh? In that case, would you care to enlighten me as to what we will be doing then?"
Childe truly flinches this time, a gust of pained breath escaping him to accompany it.
"Xiansheng. Surely you must know?"
Zhongli closes those gold, gold eyes and slowly bows his head. His voice, when he speaks, is low and barely more than a whisper.
"Indeed I do."
Childe can't do this. He can't. Not with Ajax screaming in his head, pleading with him every step to stop, to reconsider, that this is their friend, how can we hurt him??? And so Tartaglia surges forth, manifesting his Hydro blades, to do what the other two cannot, to do what must be done.
"Come, Morax. I must see the will of the Tsaritsa fulfilled. Let's see you live up to the legends of the Warrior God." He crouches down slightly, readying himself. "After all, this opportunity is quite hard to come by. Don't you dare disappoint me."
With that, Tartaglia lunges,
Morax's eyes snap open,
the Vortex Vanquisher manifests,
and the fight begins.
Morax is impressed by this mortal. He's fast, strong, and clearly clever. The part of himself that is now Zhongli, the part of himself that has spent months in Childe's presence, often watching him fight Ruin Guards and Hilichurls in the wilds of Liyue knew this, but it's another thing altogether to experience it firsthand. The part of himself that is Morax, long buried but now at the forefront, the part that once reveled in fighting is delighted at this clever and competent opponent. The part of himself that is Rex Lapis, only recently placed by the wayside, is quietly observing, and waiting for the moment to surrender his Gnosis.
He's playing defensive, and justly so… After all, he is supposed to be defending himself, guarding his Gnosis. But, in the aspect of fairness, he strictly regulates the use of his shield - it's widely regarded as impenetrable, and therefore a significant advantage. Despite that, however, he finds his opponent is exceedingly clever - when he does resort to using his shield, Tartaglia (for it is Tartaglia, and not Childe) focuses on a single spot, weakening it, before unleashing a massive attack, the likes of which Morax has never witnessed, even in all his years. When Tartaglia's chosen spot is sufficiently weakened, he unleashes a colossal whale of water, a fine balance of a construct and an elemental burst that allows it to hit hard and heavy. That allows it to break his shield, so long viewed as impenetrable.
Morax is impressed. They trade blows for a long while; Tartaglia darting in and out, slashing and stabbing, swapping from swords to polearm to bow and back again, an endlessly flowing dance of devastation; Morax blocking and deflecting, summoning and dismissing pillars of stone, twirling and kicking his polearm to and fro, an ever steady and strong defense.
In the back of his mind, however, Zhongli notes the turmoil and conflict in Tartaglia's attacks - despite breaking his shield and constantly attacking, he avoids clear openings to truly injure Zhongli, ever darting away and restarting the cycle. Rex Lapis slowly pushes his way to the forefront at this observation, slowly leaving more and more openings for Tartaglia to seize the Gnosis.
Tartaglia is pleased with this battle, with his opponent. Morax is clever, strong, and fearless, truly living up to the legends. Tartaglia can see why he was the winner of the Archon War when it's practically impossible to land a hit on him. When you can't hit your opponent, eventually you'll tire yourself out, leaving yourself open to retaliation. Tartaglia knows how to push through exhaustion and keep fighting, however; after all, there is only kill or be killed in the Abyss - if you want to survive, you must fight, no matter how tired. So Tartaglia fights.
He knows he's not landing hits, despite breaking Morax's shield - and he broke Morax's shield - despite the slowly growing openings he notices. It's hard to focus as Ajax screams in protest with every swing, every shot, every stab and Childe whispers pained apologies to a god who surely isn't listening. He's fighting himself with every movement, even as he fights Morax too, breaking his shields and clashing with his polearm - the Vortex Vanquisher, how fitting. He fights, and he fights, but he knows this isn't sustainable. He must take the Gnosis, after all, no matter how much Ajax screams or Childe apologizes.
He sees the openings in Morax's defense grow more and more frequent, and he fights himself.
Finally, Tartaglia can ignore the openings no longer, and he makes a grab for the Gnosis. Delusion lit, claws of Foul Legacy manifesting, he sinks his hand into Morax's chest and wraps his talons around the Gnosis.
And the world stops. His world stops.
Morax - Zhongli, this is Zhongli a voice inside him screams and he's no longer sure if it's just Ajax or now Childe as well - chokes, Vortex Vanquisher falling from his hand, which comes up to cling desperately to Tartaglia's shoulder. Their eyes meet, and time hold still for a span, the pair of them locked in this moment.
Time holds still…
Until Morax - no, no, Zhongli, it's Zhongli… Until Zhongli lets out a breathy whine, so soft it's only heard due to their proximity.
And Tartaglia s h a t t e r s…
Childe releases his grasp on the Gnosis and slides to his knees at Zhongli's feet, delusion deactivating and claws dissipating into the aether.
He couldn't do it. He couldn't do it. He's shaking, he knows, trembling at the feet of a god he's just harmed, just tried to steal from, just betrayed. Because a friendship is a promise, a contract after all, and he's just broken theirs. And even if he were to escape the Geo Archon's wrath, he would have nowhere to go. He's failed the Tsaritsa, he can't go back to Snezhnaya, he can't go home, however little it might have been his home anymore. He's failed, and his life is forfeit.
His life is forfeit, and he'd rather die at Zhongli's hands, always so gentle even when violent, than the Tsaritsa's, forever cold and sharp and cruel in her vengeance, or even the Fauti, who would relish in the thought of "dethroning" the youngest Harbinger and disposing of a traitor. He knows it's over, one way or another, and he'd like to choose the hands he dies to - he can think of none better than Zhongli's.
He closes his eyes, a single tear sliding down his cheek as he leans forward and presses his forehead to Zhongli's leg, right hand grasping Zhongli's pants-leg just below the knee, his left hanging and brushing the ground beside his own knee. He takes what comfort he can from Zhongli's ever present stability before the end.
A gloved hand lands on the back of his neck, and he trembles.
Please, please. I can think of no better end than by your hand.
Zhongli sees the moment Tartaglia breaks in their eye contact, and watches as Childe comes to a realization. He watches as Childe releases the Gnosis - an odd feeling, to have warm claws around his false heart, to know he will relinquish it, only for those very same claws to retreat and vanish, leaving him cold and oddly… lonely? - and slides to his knees. He watches as a hand tangles in his slacks, and Childe's head falls against his leg. He watches as all the fight and energy slips out of Childe with his slide to the ground, leaving only exhaustion and resignation in his weary frame.
He's shocked - Childe has spoken often of his loyalty to the Tsaritsa, he knows she sent him with the mission to acquire his Gnosis by any means necessary… And yet, here he is, sitting on his knees at Zhongli's feet, having chosen to not fulfill that mission, that desire of the Tsaritsa. Gnosis left in Zhongli's chest. Childe has… Childe has chosen him over his Tsaritsa.
The draconic and godly parts of his heart revel in this clear show of loyalty and devotion, of fidelity and selection. The newer, more human part of him that Childe himself has nurtured and taught him to listen to aches. Because he can see the agony it took for Childe to get here, the resignation he clearly feels, because he felt the regret radiating off him the entire fight, despite how hard he tried to quash and mask it.
He slides a hand down to rest on the back of Childe's neck in an attempt at comfort. And he's shocked when a soft whispered prayer comes through, clearly from the man at his feet.
Please, please. I can think of no better end than by your hand.
It hurts to hear that. To hear that Childe thinks that he would, that he could kill him. All he knows, in that moment, is he would do anything to convince him otherwise, that he cares for him, that he could never truly raise a hand to him in genuine violence. He lets his thumb rub gently back and forth along the side of Childe's neck as he gathers his thoughts and his words.
A contract. Yes. Yes, that should do. He hums and briefly squeezes the back of Childe's neck before allowing his thumb to resume its soothing motions as he speaks.
"Tartaglia of Snezhnaya, Childe of the Fatui. I offer you a contract."
He feels Childe freeze under his hand, and he squeezes gently once again to attempt to loosen the tension. It's somewhat successful, as Childe presses his head harder into his leg and clings tighter to his pants, his other hand sliding to grasp his opposite ankle.
"Leave the Fatui and pledge yourself to me, to be mine, and I will shield you, protect you and your family from harm. This is my word, and my promise is as solid as stone."
Childe freezes as Zhongli proposes a contract. What repayment will he demand for this trouble before putting him down? He only hopes his actions won't bring consequences down on his family - they're innocent in this, they deserve to remain that way. He's soothed, however, by the gentle squeeze to the back of his neck, that reminds him, Ah, yes, this is Zhongli. Zhongli is fair and just, he won't visit judgement on those undeserving of it. He relaxes again, and allows himself to press and cling slightly closer to Zhongli, to wrap his free hand around Zhongli's ankle as the god continues.
And he's even more stunned, once the contract has been laid out. Protection? For him? For his family? In exchange for him? This… this is not the punishment, the vengeance he expected. He would assume Zhongli was asking for his life if he hadn't specified protection for him… This… he truly just wants… wants Childe? Weak and flawed traitor that is he???
If… if that is what Zhongli desires, what right does Childe have to keep it from him? All the more so when this is all Childe could have dreamt of, if he'd allowed himself to dream… To stay in Liyue with Zhongli, protected and safe, not having to worry about himself or his family? What more could he have asked for? …What of it did he deserve? None of it, but it was what Zhongli wanted, and he could give it, so he would. But first… he shifts to kneel on one knee, still facing Zhongli's feet and holding onto him… First…
"Ajax. My name is Ajax, of Morepesok. And I accept your contract."
Ajax. Zhongli relishes this sudden gift. His true name, gifted to him as he accepts the contract, as he accepts being Zhongli's. Ajax. A warm hum, almost a purr rumbles out of his throat as he squeezes Childe's… no, Ajax's neck again.
"Ajax. A fine name for a warrior such as yourself. Thank you for this gift, Ajax. My Ajax."
He feels the shiver that runs rampant through Ajax as he states that, as he lays his claim. That thought, the thought of laying claim to Ajax only awakens the urge to mark him. It only grows, and so he can do naught but ask.
"Ajax?"
A soft hum is his answer, as Ajax resettles back on his knees, now leaning more of his weight against Zhongli's legs, so Zhongli asks.
"May I mark you, Ajax?"
Ajax blinks at the question, and turns to look up at Zhongli for the first time since falling to his knees.
"Mark?"
The familiar hum Zhongli lets out, the one that always precedes an elaborate and precise lecture is of surprising comfort to Ajax. He's delighted when his recognition is correct and the predicted lecture begins.
"Mmm, yes. Should you allow it, I would like to leave my sigil on the back of your neck, laced with a touch of my power. A mark here," he tightens his grip on the back of his neck once again to demonstrate, "to make evident your status as mine, and to better connect you with me. There would be few side effects, only allowing me an increased awareness of your general well-being and location, and, unlikely but possible, it might allow you to do something of the same for me."
Ajax presses his forehead against Zhongli's legs again. A symbol of belonging and connection. Both things he has been sorely lacking since the Abyss. And also of his own devotion and commitment. He looks up at Zhongli again, meeting those bright Cor Lapis eyes with his own lightless blue. Once again, what can he say but…
"Yes."
That simple agreement kicks Zhongli into gear. He is allowed to mark his Ajax. He knows, if he were in his hybrid form, his tail would be swaying with his delight - in fact, a purr rumbles up out of his throat despite his human form, causing Ajax to squint at him and ask…
"Are you purring?"
Zhongli chokes a little as a laugh fights the purr in his throat, before a chuckle wins out.
"Mmm, perhaps I was. You have made this old dragon very pleased, Ajax."
A grin spreads across Ajax's face, the first genuine smile Zhongli has seen on him in several days. He decides right then and there he will do all he can to keep that smile on his face as much as possible. Ajax wiggles a little, shifting position again to lean most of his weight into Zhongli's legs.
"Well, come on then. Mark me?"
Zhongli's eyes quickly flash with light, before a glow slowly builds up in both his eyes and the amber tips of his hair. Ajax watches as the light builds and feels as a slight heat builds in the hand at his nape. Both the glow and the heat increase, to the point where Ajax has to avert his gaze from Zhongli and the heat is on the verge of uncomfortable. But it never crosses that threshold, and quickly dies back down.
Ajax looks back up at Zhongli as he feels a thumb trace out the Geo symbol on the back of his neck, Zhongli's eyes practically dripping warmth and fondness. He can feel that fondness and protective warmth radiating from where he knows the sigil is, like his brain and body both are basking in the warm sunlight of Liyue, and he melts into Zhongli, a delighted hum and a pleased sigh both bubbling out of him. The Archon makes a firm, satisfied nod, before meeting Ajax's own warm, contented gaze.
"Come, Ajax. Let us go. We have much to discuss. There is much I must tell you, and apologize for, but first, you need care."
Ajax blinks, almost as if coming out of a daze. "Alright, Zhongli-Xiansheng. Where are we going?"
Zhongli smiles at him, and again that fond warmth radiates up into his brain from the mark as a hand reaches down to help pull him to his feet. "Home, my Ajax. Home."