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Childe fidgeted in his crutches in the lobby of the House of Hearth.
He was supposed to be in bed. He did actually take his health seriously so long as there wasn't something more important going on, which there usually was, and he'd taken it upon himself to keep an eye on Arlecchino while he was sorta-prisoner in her house.
Her children had been nothing but kind to him, with little Helior dosing him with medicine he was too afraid to ask what it was, little Foltz following him around and talking a mile a minute, and the others either politely ignoring him or treating him like any other guest. They'd given him a set of crutches, heavily padded for comfort and adjusted to his height, and he used them to stalk their Father.
He expected the worst. Pulcinella had made her out to be some kind of inhuman monster, spewing venom and fire at anyone unfortunate enough to be her subordinate, and Childe had seen how the other Fatui reacted whenever the Hearth was mentioned. Conversations died whenever a Hearthling was discovered for fear of Arlecchino's attention. The only thing worse than being her child was getting in her children's way.
Beyond that, the Hearthlings were prized as near-supersoldiers. They all had a diligence that couldn't be bribed or taught, only conditioned. They never gave up, they rarely failed, and every single one of them was as sharp as a knife. Pulcinella and Regrator were constantly fighting over the Hearth's scraps.
He expected the worst but, despite everything Childe had seen and heard, Arlecchino did a whole lot of nothing at home.
Like now. Childe had followed Arlecchino to the main room of the Hearth, where she continued to do nothing ominous or violent or weird. Her various children greeted her calmly, then returned to what they were doing.
Bored out of his mind, Childe looked around the room. Two of Arlecchino's favorite adult children were sitting at a table nearby. The girl, Lynette — well. Young woman, really. He was pretty sure she was older than him — read a document through half-lidded eyes. Her tail twitched in muted frustration. Her brother, Lyney, mirrored her minus the tail as he worked his way through a leatherbound book.
"Do you want to see something amusing?"
Childe startled. Arlecchino rarely acknowledged his presence, much less spoke directly to him, and it took him a second to come up with a response. "What?"
"Do you want to see something amusing," she repeated, emotionless and with the exact same inflection as the first time.
"...You know how to be funny?"
Normally he wouldn't mouth off to someone that could whoop his ass with a hand tied behind their back while he was in crutches, but in the entire time he'd been here, he hadn't once seen her so much as raise her voice against her kids.
She didn't seem to take offense, at least. She just turned to face the twins. "Observe."
He hung low in the crutches while he observed, supporting his weight painfully by his armpits while he swung his feet, but what happened next made him stand normally. His fingers twitched reflexively for a weapon as six dark, jointed, armored apendages unfurled from Arlecchino's back. His alarm grew as they focused to a point in front of her, where a red light formed.
"Um," he said intelligently.
Did Pulcinella know she could do that? Did the Tsaritsa know she could do that?! What the hell even was she? Childe had been working with her unwillingly for several years and never once heard about her having goddamn spider legs.
Too many questions raced through his mind, but they all came to a jarring halt as he realized whatever... that was, was pointed at the table. He couldn't do much as hurt as he was, but he lurched forwards regardless.
He was too slow. The red light lanced out, a small red dot appearing on the table between the twins.
There was a split second of stillness while they both took notice of the dot of light. Their eyes flicked towards the motion in unison, and in the next instant they both slammed a hand down on the dot — Lynette sliding low and hitting it first, Lyney smacking the top of his sister's hand with his pupils blown so wide they swallowed his irises. They struck it so hard the entire table rattled and drew the attention of the rest of the Hearthlings nearby.
As soon as they realized what they just did, both twins jerked their hands back and sat up straight.
Lyney made an offended sound, mouth open, face flushed red. Lynette's ears pinned back against her head as she glared at them with murder in her eyes. A nearby Hearthling snorted once.
The corner of Arlecchino's lip twitched up in something that could've been a smile, if you squinted, and also needed glasses. "Just demonstrating your reflexes to our guest."
"Father doesn't fucking love us anymore," Lynette deadpanned.
Childe also snorted, forgetting to be afraid for a moment.
Lyney quickly gathered their papers, his face screwed up into a scowl that was quickly giving way to a smile. "She doesn't. We should try our luck on the streets."
They both got up and dramatically sulked as they walked past. Arlecchino nodded politely and moved out of their way, her spider-arm-things retracting out of sight. "Understandable. Dinner will be ready at 6, if you choose to endure the abuse."
"We'll think about it," Lynette said haughtily.
Childe watched them go. They remained unharmed despite swearing around their Father, at their Father, and nobody else in the surrounding area seemed to think it was strange. He couldn't even do that with his own parents.
He looked back at Arlecchino, who was watching her adult children leave with an odd expression. Not irritation, not barely-restrained fury in front of her guest, but something... soft. A little sad, but mostly warm. It was the first time he'd ever seen her have an emotion.
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and, on noticing him staring, her face returned to stone with all the suddenness and intensity of a slamming door. "That goes for you too," she said in her normal, frigid tone, before he could question anything. "You're welcome to join us for dinner. I will have someone bring it to your room if not."
"Uh, sure," he said.
"Excellent," she replied.
The silence between them dragged on just long enough for him to notice, her staring somewhere beside his head, before Arlecchino turned on her heel and began marching deeper into the Hearth. "I have business to attend to. Please send for me if you need me. I will see you at dinner otherwise."
She didn't look at him once. Childe watched her go, for some reason feeling like he had intruded on something he wasn't supposed to see. The other Hearthlings continued their various activities around him — some coloring, others reading, a few playing a card game quietly in the corner. One of the ones there caught his eye and inclined their hand in a silent invitation to join them. He thought on it for a moment, casting one last glance where Arlecchino had disappeared, then limped towards the group.
He still didn't know what to make of her, but he was pretty sure things would be okay if he stopped watching her for a few hours.