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They always fought like this, back to back, feet shifting like hands of a clock on the same spot as long as they could. Every once in a while there would be a lunge forward or a shove back, but they stayed connected at the heels of their feet. It was a dance--the only one Childe had ever truly been able to master--and one Zhongli had insisted on practicing for months until it came like second nature. He didn’t want to risk it when the biggest battle of Childe’s life was coming: the Second Archon War.
Childe would never admit it to Zhongli’s face, but it perhaps brought him even more joy than it did the other man. Childe wasn’t stupid or oblivious so he knew that Zhongli would far outlive him, perhaps taking a few years out of his centuries of life to mourn Childe’s death. He knew the odds were that he’d die in battle against something he probably shouldn’t have been fighting in the first place, so he took comfort in this one small thing: the certainty that Zhongli would feel his death ripple through his body into that warm, grounded spot where their heels pressed into each other, and Childe wouldn’t have to die alone.
Part of Childe knew this was selfish, knew that it was cruel to be thankful that he would die in Zhongli’s arms, his voice lulling him to endless sleep, but he knew Zhongli’s strength was enough to overcome it, as it had been in the past and as he knows it will be after him as well. In this one way, this one place, Childe did not envy Zhongli’s strength. After all, his endless fount allowed Childe to be weak when it was time to be.
It brought him peace.
Childe heard Guizhong’s name for the first time mere weeks after he first met Zhongli. He could see the steam rising from Zhongli’s teacup, moistening his lips every time he leaned down for a sip. Childe didn’t know how Zhongli could drink something so warm in the middle of Liyue summer, but he was thankful he did.
After the first time he’d bought him Qingxin tea (and yes, Childe had bought Zhongli’s very expensive tea despite hating the taste himself), he’d seen what it did to the other man. That first sip had softened the hard planes of his body, easing the tension from his shoulders and chest as he hummed. Even his eyes seemed to melt into a warmer amber, the normally stark orange mixing with gentle browns and really, Childe shouldn’t be noticing any of this at all except he did.
And he liked it. He liked cataloguing the way Zhongli moved, the way he reacted to certain things. He liked everything that Zhongli was, all of the strength and the solidity and the formality and the bone-deep warmth.
“Have you seen a glaze lily before?” Came the deep rumble, and Childe knew it would. He’d seen the slight flare of Zhongli’s nostril that always came before words, and he felt a surge of pride at being proven right.
“Not before I came here.” Childe said, his voice low in that way it always became around Zhongli, as if he subconsciously was afraid of disrupting the deep peace surrounding the man. “Very little grows in Snezhnaya. Let alone something so...delicate.”
Zhongli turned away from him so Childe could only see a sliver of his cheek, two fingers folding the petal of the glaze lily carefully so as not to tear it. His tea was still held in his other hand, but the steam was no longer lightly distorting Childe’s view of Zhongli. He didn’t speak for a few moments, and Childe felt no reason to rush him.
Zhongli released the petal and gave the flower a one-fingered pat, slow and sad like a farewell, before turning back to Childe. As he always is, Childe finds himself surprised by the open intensity in Zhongli’s expression, the willful vulnerability. Childe has asked nothing of him, but still he offers.
It makes Childe feel like something precious, like the glaze lily Zhongli had just released, but perhaps a bit more. Zhongli had released the flower in favor of Childe, after all.
“Glaze lilies are a reminder of Old Liyue, the Guili Assembly.” Zhongli said, eyes meeting Childe’s but also somehow reaching past him, yearning. Childe felt a pang at not being able to ease it.
“Over 3,000 years ago, two gods ruled over the people of Liyue: Guizhong, goddess of the dust, and Rex Lapis, at the time a mere god of contracts. Guizhong ruled with kindness and love for her people, while Rex Lapis led with a firm hand, demanding obedience.” Zhongli paused, his eyes unfocused.
“That’s to be expected. He is the god of contracts, after all. It’s important to obey those.” Childe said, unsure of whether or not he was meant to fill the space.
Zhongli’s eyes met Childe’s again and he smiled softly. “I suppose this is true, but Guizhong always believed Rex Lapis was capable of more. She wished to teach him kindness, to understand his people, but the Archon War came swiftly and swallowed many old gods, Guizhong being no exception. She was felled with Rex Lapis at her side, but he could not save her, and her body dissolved into dust, blowing and causing a bloom of glaze lilies stretching across the battlefield. It is said that these glaze lilies grow only where Rex Lapis has presided, a reminder to him of Guizhong’s kindness, and a symbol of her love for her people and her constant belief in Rex Lapis.”
Childe knew the words meant more than they were, feeling the sorrow in Zhongli’s tone. He took a few steps to the patch of glaze lilies on the terrace, stroking a petal as Zhongli had earlier. He felt the cool softness of it, but also the light graininess at the tips. Guizhong’s dust. He thought immediately, and though it was illogical, something in him told him it was true. He looked at the flower and summoned every ounce of sincerity he could find, exhaling a quiet “thank you” to it before releasing it.
When Childe turned around, he saw Zhongli’s eyes pinned on him and thought he saw them gleam a bit brighter than usual, but the sheen faded with a blink, and Zhongli took another sip of his tea.
“Careful.” Zhongli warned Childe as he erected a pillar to Childe’s right, blocking a claymore that Childe hadn’t noticed was coming for him.
Childe grinned, leaning back slightly to press his shoulder against Zhongli’s. “Why do that when you’re here to save me?” he teased, secretly reveling in the feeling of Zhongli’s power thrumming just below his skin.
Zhongli grunted as he quickly threw up another pillar. “Childe, the contract.” he said, simply.
Childe smiled again at the invocation of the contract they’d made the year before. “Of course, my liege. Would hate to face the wrath of the rock.” He leaned forward again as a Geovishap rared up, sending an arrow through its eye as he pressed his heel back against Zhongli’s.
He wasn’t sure if the reassurance reached the other man, but the words from his end were bright and honest. I won’t let you mourn me today.
As had become quite common over the last few weeks, Childe found himself looking up at Zhongli as the other man hovered over him, scanning his body for injuries and fussing over the ones he found, muttering all the while in Liyuen too fast and foreign for him to understand.
Zhongli held Childe’s hand in his, using his other to run his finger along the various wounds along his sword arm, sparks of his geo power creating a pleasant glow between the two of them. Childe sighed happily, half because it felt good for the pain in his arm to finally cease and half because the distressed wrinkle between Zhongli’s eyebrows had smoothed as Childe’s last injury was healed.
Zhongli’s cool hand lightly stroked the side of Childe’s face, eyes still stormy with concern, and Childe gave him the most comforting smile he could as he leaned into Zhongli’s hand.
“Why do you do this to me?” Zhongli whispered, finally in Snezhnayan.
Childe shot him a lopsided grin. “In my defense, if you would just spar with me, I wouldn’t have to hunt down all of these strange enemies to test myself against.”
Zhongli drew his hand back to himself, and Childe felt a bit sad at the loss of contact. “We have talked about this. I--”
“I know, I know.” Childe interrupted. “Blah, blah, you’ll crush me like a bug. You know, it’s pretty demoralizing to hear that as someone who prides himself on his skills in battle.”
Zhongli sighed, rubbing his temples with two fingers. “It is not my intention to underestimate you, you know this. I simply cannot be the one to kill you, and it is... far too easy to lose control of myself in battle.” he said bitterly. “I will not put myself in that position. I will not kill you, Childe.”
Half of it was pleading, begging Childe to let this go. He acquiesced, reaching again to bring Zhongli’s hand to his hair. Almost automatically, he started combing through his hair in just the way Childe loved. “I know, I’m sorry.” he whispered before deciding to add “Me too.”
Zhongli looked back into his eyes, an unknown intensity making them glow more yellow than usual. “Do you promise?”
Childe had been warned since he stepped foot in Liyue to be careful about promises, to be sparing with them and always clarify terms. But in this moment, with Morax himself pleading with him and the ease of this promise, the ease of agreeing never to hurt this man he loved more than he’d ever loved anything, Childe only nods. “I promise.”
The yellow in Zhongli’s eyes brighten more, almost blinding Childe before fading back to normal.
“Excellent.” Zhongli hummed. “So no more pointless fighting for you, then.”
Childe stared at him suspiciously, but still his wariness paled in comparison to the trust he held in Zhongli. “What exactly did I just agree to, xiansheng ?”
Zhongli smiled at him brightly, and Childe almost didn’t care about the answer to his question. “I said I would not kill Childe, and you said ‘me too’, meaning ‘I also will not kill Childe’. Clearly your pointless fights are an attempt to kill yourself, so those must cease if you are to follow the terms of this contract.”
Childe laughed. “Ah, you’ve gained a sense of humor, hm?” Childe began to feel the drowsy fog that always surrounded him after Zhongli healed him, interrupting himself with a yawn. “I think I need to sleep on this one. But watch out, I’ll have a loophole by morning!”
Childe yawned again and squirmed in the blankets, attempting to get comfortable before letting his eyes fall closed. Zhongli’s fingers continued to comb through his hair, now lulling him to sleep. He felt the man lean over him, pressing a light kiss to his forehead as he hummed, the vibrations spreading warmly through Childe’s body.
Childe can’t be sure if it was a dream or not, but he heard Zhongli’s voice whispering in the chamber of his mind.
Please, don’t leave me so soon.
They’d fallen into a new careful rhythm, shifting slowly over to where Xiao and Venti were fighting, also back to back and surrounded. Every break they had between attacks was spent inching wordlessly, Childe anticipating Zhongli’s movements intuitively and Zhongli doing the same for him, their heels always against each other as they had trained to, and if one did have to move, there was a tap against the other’s ankle as a warning. A rhythm.
And then Childe felt the world tilt as Zhongli’s heel kicked the back of Childe’s knee as if he was thrown without warning. Childe whirled around as he cried Zhongli’s name, mind racing and body suddenly freezing despite the beating sun. He caught sight of Zhongli’s fearful eyes seeking him out in the body of a golden dragon, a trace of relief when he sees Childe is unharmed, just as a vortex of ice came barreling toward him.
Childe couldn’t think fast enough, couldn’t even try to warn Zhongli as the vortex caught him, other creatures adding electricity and fire too it cruelly, his large dragon form completely obscured as it swallowed Zhongli and spit him out across the field. Xiao and Venti had run toward him at some point, Zhongli’s snarl and the loud snapping that sounded in the vortex drawing their attention.
Childe was frozen. He felt something shock him from behind, forcing him to his knees, saw Xiao in front of him, waving and shouting but the noise wouldn’t accompany the horror movie playing before him. He saw Xiao sigh and lift him, running over to where Zhongli’s form laid, unmoving since he was thrown there.
Childe slid his fingers into Zhongli’s hair, parting the long strands into three parts in order to braid it. Childe knew these braids always looked awkward, and he knew he could do better, but Zhongli refused to turn his back to Childe to allow him to properly put in the braids so here they were, Zhongli watching Childe’s adept fingers braid the hair coming over his left shoulder.
Childe would be more annoyed by the way this troubled his perfectionism, but he remembered the feeling of Zhongli’s hand holding his wrist, whispering, “Nothing is worth looking away from you.” Childe could still feel the heat of that blush.
So Childe braided Zhongli’s hair sitting in front of him, threading glaze lilies in between. When he looked up at Zhongli to start a conversation, his breath caught at the deep adoration in the man’s eyes, so vast and intense that Childe couldn’t believe it was for him.
“Thank you.” Zhongli murmured, still looking at Childe with that boundless gaze.
Childe looked back, hoping his expression was mirroring Zhongli. He loved his man more than he knew how to express, miles more than he had ever loved anyone. He loved him as much as he knew how, and every day, he learned to love him more.
He looked back down to pick up another glaze lily, pausing and twirling this one in his hand. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” Childe said, looking back up.
Zhongli’s eyes were now on the flower, his gaze softer. “Yes.” he said in a hushed voice.
That was something that took time to get used to. Zhongli was so different from mortals, so much. Childe had learned not to envy the way he loved Guizhong because Zhongli had lived a hundred lifetimes and still only loved two. The affection he received, the warmth he cloaked Childe in--it was more than there could possibly be to give, but Zhongli gave it anyway. To him and Guizhong.
Childe wondered if he would meet Guizhong, after. He wondered if they would get along, if they would wait for Zhongli together. Most of all, he wondered how Zhongli would feel, losing the two people he cared for so deeply. Mortality freed him, but Zhongli would be left to grieve in a way no one else in the world had ever grieved, and that knowledge burned Childe.
He wished they could switch places, just so he could take Zhongli’s pain into himself.
“How did you cope? After.” Childe asked, pausing his braiding in case Zhongli would need the space to answer.
Zhongli’s hand reached for Childe’s knee and squeezed it, but Childe got the feeling that it was more to give Zhongli the strength to respond than to comfort Childe. He offered the strength he had easily.
“First...I fought. I killed so much, after, swallowed so many. The rage I felt was terrifying, so great I almost killed my own adepti. If not...if not for the glaze lilies, I would have destroyed Liyue by my own hand.”
Childe placed his hand on top of Zhongli’s on his knee, squeezing gently.
“Then the time came to reestablish the city of Liyue, and with how I had razed Guili...we had to push back to the harbor. Once the people were settled, I sought out the adepti to take care of Liyue. After that...I slept.”
Zhongli’s eyes shone with tears and for once, they remained after he blinked, one slipping down his cheek.
“600 years.” He whispered. Childe’s breath stuttered, looking up at Zhongli and watching a grimace spread on his face as the painful memories filled him. Childe wanted to stop, to take back his question, but something told him to allow him to feel this. Instead, Childe ran his thumb over Zhongli’s knuckles, hopefully soothing him.
“I needed 20 or so years to heal physically. But the rest...I knew I could awaken, but it felt...pointless to see a world without Guizhong in it. To live.” Zhongli’s voice cracked and Childe felt his heart jump as it did. He reached out to wipe a tear away from under Zhongli’s eye.
“Finally, Venti sought me out and awoke me. Had he not, I may have allowed myself to die there.” Zhongli’s eyes met Childe’s again, wet but still as warm as always. “I would never have met you. Liyue... I am indebted to him.”
Childe felt a sense of reverence rise within him, in awe of this man with so much strength that despite almost dying from grief after his first love, he chose to embrace another. Embrace Childe.
“How could you do it again? Love me?” Childe asked, almost desperately.
Zhongli smiled at him, all the wisdom of his thousands of years of life shining through it. “How could I not?” he whispered.
“When I was young, I too thought my power was measured in battle, just as you do. But when you fight as much as I have, power becomes meaningless. It is routine, a frivolous dance. It teaches me nothing, it brings me no joy, and it causes much suffering.” Zhongli said, now holding Childe’s hand, tracing something he couldn’t focus on in his palm.
“Love, on the other hand, is the most powerful thing I have ever felt. It is breathtaking, it is kind , it is warm and selfless. Like qingxin flowers, love grows where it is most dangerous and most necessary, and it heals. The way it feels to love you, to adore you as I do and live for you, I can subsist on it for centuries. I may only be able to hold and see you for a few more years, but I will love you forever. What you teach me, the man you make me, the purpose you find in me...it will live in me forever. How can I not love you, when loving you is that wonderful? Who am I if I fear the very thing that brings me life?”
Zhongli looks up at Childe, and in that moment, he sees it all. The grief of years of life without love, the joy of finding him, the endless crash of unforgiving waves against the immovable stone shore that Zhongli must be.
Childe pulls Zhongli’s head into his chest, wrapping his arms around his neck and praying, though he doesn’t know to whom, that they can fit forever in Childe’s meager lifetime.
Xiao and Venti ran to opposite sides of Zhongli’s limp body, now transformed back to his human form. Childe almost wished he had stayed a dragon--with him like this, in this body Childe knew so well, he could see everything that had broken within him. Like this, he couldn’t pretend it would be okay.
Xiao and Venti’s fingers glowed blue with anemo energy, their hands running all over his body as the glow grew past them. Too much to fix. Childe thinks.
Childe crawled closer, pulling Zhongli’s head into his lap, hunching over him and whispering mindless comforts into his ear. Zhongli’s hand pressed weakly against Childe’s knee, and he looked away from Zhongli’s face just for a moment to see the fresh Qingxin flower on the ground next to him.
As soon as he caught sight of it, Zhongli’s body faded into dust, as if he allowed himself to die only now that he knew Childe heard his message.
Like qingxin flowers, love grows where it is most dangerous and most necessary, and it heals.
Childe beat the ground where Zhongli had laid just a moment ago, screaming and cursing at the world, begging for him back because no, it was supposed to be him, and they were supposed to have a lifetime and how are these few measly years supposed to be enough? How is he supposed to be as strong as Zhongli and live?
Xiao puts his hands on Childe’s face, caging it in place as he tries to say something but there’s the sound of deep sobs in the air drowning him out and his tears have blurred Xiao’s face beyond recognition and he just wants to lay down and die.
Then he feels a hand on his forehead, a cool breeze flowing through his skin into his mind before his vision goes blank and he slumps forward onto Xiao.
Childe sleeps.