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Perhaps to some, Childe had a peculiar childhood.
To Childe, it wasn’t peculiar at all.
He dreamed of going on adventures as his father had, and life in his sleepy hometown had always seemed comparably dull. When he’d run away from home and fallen into the abyss a whole new wonderful, horrifying, thrilling world had opened up before him, the possibilities neverending. It was only natural that, when such opportunities presented themselves, one should seize them and cling to them tightly.
Even if those opportunities came with abyssal terrors beyond a regular person’s comprehension.
He’d only been young then, but from that moment forth childhood whimsy paled in comparison to the heart-pounding excitement of battle. Lost in all his youthful eagerness, a moment not spent honing his combat techniques was a wasted one.
Unfortunately, his mortal body comes with limits, and undergoing his foul legacy transformation twice in a short period had made this fact all the more apparent. If it were up to him, his body would have no such limitations, but it was no matter, truly. He’d long ago come to accept that rest was a crucial component of ensuring his peak performance.
This life would always have bountiful opportunities for a new battle with a strong foe.
For the time being, Childe finds his head lulling sideways onto his propped-up hand as his afternoon meal with Zhongli progresses. Try as the Qixing might, the Fatui still has some pull in Liyue, so reserving them a nice room in Liuli Pavillion had been a relatively simple affair.
“I received a letter from the traveller detailing their present predicament in Inazuma,” Zhongli is saying, voice low and soothing, “it would appear there is much to discuss at the next opportunity that presents itself. They also asked that I pass on well wishes to you.”
“To me?” Childe echoes with a delighted chuckle, “why, I’ll never. It seems just weeks ago they were extending their aid to me here in Liyue. I’m sure whatever they’re up against over there, they’ll be more than up to the challenge.” He sighs, a little bit wistful. “How I would’ve loved to join them in their exploits.”
“Ah, but you are a busy man yourself,” Zhongli reminds him, “I too have the utmost assurance in their capabilities. Should they face any difficulties, I am sure they already have a network of friends they can draw upon in Inazuma. Hmm…I can recall the last time I visited those lands. Based on the information I have gleaned, they seem more troubled now than I remember…”
His pondering continues, as it inevitably does, but Childe doesn’t mind. In fact, he’s come to appreciate Zhongli’s extensive knowledge, from details of wars long passed (though, interestingly, never a word about the archon war) to the optimal storage and care of various Liyuean specialties. Childe’s fascination extends beyond simply a passing interest in how Zhongli’s strength will develop without a gnosis, or how he managed to vanquish so many of Liyue’s enemies in days long gone.
“Tuecer’s always begging me to see Inazuma,” Childe says, absently stirring his drink, “I’m starting to think he just wants a toy from every nation in Teyvat, especially after seeing all those ruin guards. Hm…you know, maybe I’ll have to take a look next time I’m in Mondstat. I’m sure they’ve got something he’d like over there.”
Zhongli nods. He’s sitting straight as always, nursing a steaming cup of tea. “Should you ever need suggestions, I happen to know numerous vendors in Liyue who handcraft toys and other wares for children with the finest materials. I’ve had the pleasure of conversing with them on multiple occasions, and observing their process. It is quite fascinating.” He pauses here, tapping his chin. “Now Mondstat…that is an area I am less acquainted with. It is hard to know whether their archon is similarly familiar with such prime locations and traditional techniques…although, I did happen to hear that…”
And, he’s off again, Childe thinks with an inward chuckle. Still, he truly doesn’t mind. He rests his head on his hand once more and listens with interest as they await the meals they’d ordered.
Perhaps it’s the warm sunlight that pours inside, casting a hazy glow across the room, but Childe finds himself continuing to sag in his chair, blinking sluggishly. It is unwise, but the steady cadence of Zhongli’s voice makes it all too easy for him to let his guard down. He supposes this is how he’d gotten into this mess to begin with, really.
“Mister Zhongli, Mister Childe, here are the dishes you ordered. Please do let me know if there is anything else I can do for you two.”
Childe had let Zhongli order for both of them, and based on the wonderful smell that wafts throughout the room, he doesn’t regret his choice.
Zhongli nods. “Thank you, Hongru. Should anything come to mind, I will inform you.”
Childe watches as Hongru leaves the room, offering them a smile on his way out. He turns to his food — a dry hotpot with cured pork and matsutake, it seems.
“No seafood, I see,” he notes teasingly.
Zhongli winces. “Ah. No.”
“One day you’ll have to tell me what you have against it. I think I could change your mind, you know. Back in my hometown, we went fishing on the ice frequently, and a lot of dishes there feature seafood in some way. There’s gotta be something there you’ll like.”
“…Although that does sound lovely, I can assure you that you would have quite the challenge ahead of you,” Zhongli says, though he does not elaborate further.
Childe picks up his chopsticks — he’d been practising lately, so this opportunity is most certainly welcome — before digging in.
“Careful, it’s still quite hot,” Zhongli reminds, which earns him a small chuckle.
“Okay, but I think I know what I’m doing.”
“Of course,” Zhongli affirms, nodding.
He turns his attention to his own meal, and Childe narrows his eyes. What exactly is the implication there, anyway?
Whatever the case, they enjoy their meals in the afternoon sun, chatter exchanged between them. Childe has always been a fast, efficient eater, so once he’s done he finds himself sagging in his chair once more, listening to Zhongli’s musings with his head propped on one hand. He comes to the belated realisation that he hasn’t said all that much in the past twenty minutes or so, but Zhongli doesn’t seem to mind.
“I can only recall one another instance where I was specifically called upon to review a case of flagrant disregard for the stipulations of countless contracts…a merchant at the heart of an extended web of financial transgressions against the people of Liyue harbour…”
As time crawls by, Childe finds himself focusing less on what Zhongli is saying exactly and more on the softness that underlies his voice, the undeniable steadiness of his presence. He doesn’t think he’s imagining the turn his tone has taken towards something more gentle. Something with a striking similarity to the timbre of his voice when he’s recounting stories for a small Childe, or softly re-directing him when his over-excitement leads him to lose track of what he’s supposed to be doing.
Or…when he’s reminding him to be careful because his food is still hot.
So that’s what that had been about.
Zhongli and his perceptiveness.
Childe is slumped over now, arms folded on the table and chin resting atop them. Upon realising that Zhongli has stopped talking, he buries his face in his arms. This is always the part he’s not so good at handling.
The floodgates are open now, and it’s hard to deny that even without being consciously aware of it he’s been feeling progressively smaller this entire meal.
“Childe? Are you alright?”
Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or the way his body aches, or the way Zhongli’s voice dips soothingly around the question. Everything seems to coalesce at once, and for a brief moment, he feels overwhelmed with it all, with how tiny he feels.
“Childe?”
The question is more tentative now. Zhongli sets a hand on his forearm, and Childe takes a long moment to just breathe, basking in the steady contact.
After a beat or two, he raises his head, and a smile tugs at Zhongli’s mouth that’s faint yet painstakingly caring.
“Hi,” Childe says.
“Hello. Has my little one joined me?”
Childe nods. Zhongli’s hand moves from his forearm to briefly cup the side of his face, his thumb brushing along his cheek.
“I see. Forgive me if it’s presumptuous, but I suspected that he might. I brought just a few supplies with me in case. Would you like to see them?”
Childe perks up immediately, nodding again with more fervour. This coaxes an amused chuckle from Zhongli.
“Very well. One moment.”
He leans back, bending to reach the small bag he’d brought with him. Childe had originally thought they were simply items he’d purchased while out in the town, so he cannot contain an excited gasp when Zhongli reveals his favourite whale plushie, a small box of coloured pencils and his sketchbook.
“Echo!” he exclaims, before gasping again. “Oh! Inside voice. Echo,” he amends in a whisper, as he brings the whale to his chest and squeezes tight, mashing his face into his flipper.
“I can colour too?” he warbles around the plushie.
Zhongli sets his colouring book down on the table before him with a nod. “Of course,” he affirms, “and whilst you do so…hm. Have I ever recounted the time I defeated a dragon?”
“But…you’re a dragon,” Childe says, eyes wide.
At that, Zhongli chuckles. “Indeed, my previous form was half-dragon. But I can assure you there are other dragons out there.”
“Mmmm…” Childe ponders this, giving his whale plushie another squeeze. “How many?”
“It is difficult to say. Nowadays, there are far less of them, but I have encountered numerous dragons in my lifetime. Would you like to hear about one such occasion?”
“Yeah! Wanna hear ‘bout the dragon. And…” he looks down at his sketchbook for a moment. “‘I wanna draw one too.”
“Oh? And what colour might this dragon be?”
“Ummmm…blue!”
Zhongli smiles, shaking his head. “Ah. But of course. A time-tested favourite, after all.”
Childe sets Echo on the empty chair beside him, giving his head a pat. Then, he scoots his chair in and leans over with his elbows, tapping his chin as he gazes down at all the colours in his box.
“Got some blues here…mmm…but I have to start with black. Oh! Found it!”
He extracts the black pencil, bringing his legs up on the chair so that he can fully lean over and begin his drawing.
By now, Zhongli has come to anticipate the details that a small Childe will generally want from one of his stories, going into great depth particularly regarding the appearance of the dragon, how big it is exactly and how strong it is. Essentially — he knows how to tell a story to the boy without being derailed by endless curious questions, however sweet and well-intentioned they may be. And, he greatly enjoys incorporating tidbits of information about Liyue’s extensive history in the process.
Childe listens closely to Zhongli’s story about the dragon, occasionally losing focus on his drawing when a particularly interesting segment draws his attention away.
“You and…you and the adepti were very strong,” Childe notes, poking out his tongue in concentration and he fills in the scales of his dragon with navy blue.
“Ah. Yes — we worked well together. They worked tirelessly to defend the harbour, as per their contracts. Undoubtedly, I am indebted to them.”
“Mhm. I can draw a contract too. For the dragon.”
“For the dragon?” Zhongli echoes, “I see. Contracts are indeed an integral component of negotiations between two parties…even when one of those parties is a dragon.”
Childe nods rapidly, colouring in the last of the dragon’s scales before bouncing in his chair.
“Finished!”
Zhongli hums, taking a moment to review Childe’s work.
“It is fine colouring indeed. I appreciate the care you have taken for each individual scale. This dragon would most certainly be a fierce one.”
“And strong,” Childe adds, puffing up his chest.
Zhongli chuckles. “And strong,” he affirms.
“Mhm. Now gotta do the contract,” says Childe, rifling through his box for the right colour.
Carefully, he draws the outline for a rectangular piece of paper, with fancy slanting squiggles for the writing. At the bottom of the contract lies a large X, with two lines beside it for two signatures.
“Okay done! Now I need scissors to cut them out, ‘cause otherwise, the dragon can’t sign.”
He sifts through the box, digging out the pair of crafty child-safe scissors he keeps in there for cutting out his drawings.
Zhongli hums. “A wise choice. And does Echo play a role in this?”
“Yeah! Um…he can be…hmmmmm…the…” His eyebrows furrow as he thinks. “…The cuddler?”
Childe plucks Echo up off the chair and squeezes him to his chest to showcase his point.
“Oh,” Zhongli says, bringing a hand up his mouth seemingly to smother a smile. “An important role, certainly.”
“Mhm. Cuddles the people who sign.”
“But of course. The cuddler officiates the contract and the associated proceedings.”
“Ye-ah,” Childe agrees, puffing his cheeks up with air while he turns the word over in his head. “‘Fi-ci-ates. Cuddles, then the…the ones who signed fight.”
“They fight?” Zhongli taps his chin. “But what if their contract forbade such actions?”
Childe thinks this over as he finishes cutting out the outline of his dragon. “Ummm…then they don’t fight. More cuddles.”
“Ah, so they respect the contract. That is indeed a wise course of action to take.”
“Mhm. Got the dragon and the contract here now!” he says, holding them both up. “Wanna be the dragon?”
Zhongli’s eyebrows raise. “Oh. I…yes, very well. I’ll be the dragon, shall I? And who will you be?”
“I’ll be me,” Childe says, matter-of-fact.
“Ah, of course.”
Childe makes a show of clearing his throat.
“Ahhh! A dragon! Wait — no, I’m brave.” He clears his throat again. “Oh! A dragon. What do you want, Mister Dragon?”
“Hmm…let’s see. I am after Echo,” Zhongli says calmly.
Childe’s mouth falls open. “Echo?” he repeats, hushed, “but Echo’s my friend. You can’t have him.”
“Then, I suppose we have hit an impasse. How shall we settle the matter?”
“With fighting!” Childe says.
“Hm…is there no alternative? One that we’ve discussed previously perhaps?”
“Oh! We should make a contract. I got pencils here. Mmm…one second.”
Childe grabs a pencil and draws a quick outline for a chair on the remaining scrap of paper.
“Here, I have a chair, so you can sit down here.”
“That is very kind of you,” Zhongli says, as he moves the dragon and places it atop the paper. “Now. How can we come to an agreement here?”
The afternoon sun hangs just above the horizon by the time their negotiations come to a close. Zhongli returns the supplies to his bag as they prepare to leave.
“On our way home, I suggest we take the route along the wharf, so that we may see a few of the boats coming into the harbour. Does that sound alright to you?”
“Yeah! Wanna see the boats.”
“Very well. In that case, it is best that we set off sooner rather than later. This route does require a short detour.”
Childe nods to himself. “Mhm. Gotta be quick.”
To demonstrate said quickness, he bounces up ahead and through the doorway, into the hall.
“Ah — haste is not strictly necessary. A medium pace will do just fine.”
Childe pokes his head out from the doorway. “Medium?”
Zhongli nods.
“Okay!”
With that, he rushes through the main dining area and out into the street, garnering a few startled looks in the process. Through the glass, he watches as Zhongli enters the dining area and exchanges a few words with Hongru. He hums absently to himself as he looks toward the steadily darkening sky, counting a few of the stars in his head.
He perks up when he hears the door to Liuli Pavillion swing open, turning immediately.
“Did you see? I went medium!”
Zhongli shakes his head as he steps outside, huffing an amused laugh. He offers a hand for Childe to take.
“It seems you and I have very different definitions of medium.”
“I could have gone faster,” Childe explains, as he takes Zhongli’s hand, “that means medium.”
Zhongli steers him to the right of the path, safely out of the way of a slew of passers-by.
“I’m not quite sure that qualifies as the common definition of ‘medium.’”
“Hmmm…okay. Show me medium then.”
“I’d say our current pace now is a suitable medium.”
“Really? But it’s so slow.”
Zhongli smiles, a hint of fondness underlying it. “Ah, perhaps to you. But you’ll humour me, won’t you?”
Childe nods, giving Zhongli’s hand a brief squeeze. “Wanna walk with you.”
Zhongli gives his hand a little squeeze in return.
On their way to the wharf, Zhongli buys them a small box of rice buns from Chef Mao for them to share. They find a bench near the docks to observe the sunset, close enough that the pleasant sea breeze ruffles their hair. Childe swings his legs, munching away at a rice bun.
“Wanna get closer,” he murmurs, leaning forward in his seat.
“You are more than welcome to, perhaps once you’ve finished your rice bun. Just ensure that you exercise caution near the edge.”
Childe nods rapidly, swinging his legs back and forth as he speeds through the rest of his rice bun.
“Okay done! I’ll be quick!”
He hops up and approaches the edge of the docks, peering out at the horizon. He takes a moment to inhale deeply, before letting the air out in a rush.
For a few long moments, he lingers there, taking everything in. Then, he’s struck by the sudden urge to turn around and sprint along the length of the port. And back again. And forth again, until he comes to a stumbling halt in front of Zhongli’s bench, chest heaving.
“Did you see?” he gets out through pants.
Zhongli nods. “I did see — you were fast indeed. How are you feeling now? Tired, perhaps?”
Childe’s shoulders slump. “Mmm…maybe a little…”
Zhongli stands, offering his hand once more. “Shall we head home then? I prepared some iced tea this morning, and I believe it should be adequately chilled by now.”
Childe nods, accepting the hand. He listens to Zhongli’s stories about various locations they pass on their way. (“Here…ah, yes, here I was most fortunate to attend one of Ms Yun’s first plays…and there, I had an illuminating conversation with a gentleman who seemed to believe that I was Rex Lapis…though I suppose he was not wrong, his arguments were…how should I put it…rather unique.”)
Zhongli hovers a hand by Childe’s back as they enter his home, flicking on the switch for a trio of warm ceiling lights along the hall on their way in. Childe knows by now that Zhongli generally prefers people take off their shoes before trampling further inside, so he plonks down on the ground and unbuckles the straps on his boots. In all honesty, it’s a relief to have them off.
“Is there anything more comfortable you might like to change into?” Zhongli asks. “I believe you left some clothes here last time, I had them washed in your absence.”
“Was that the blue sweater? And the grey pants?”
“Indeed. If I recall correctly, they should be…” he opens a door to his left, wincing slightly, “ah, somewhere here. One moment.”
Childe peers around the corner. Zhongli has dedicated this particular room to various trinkets and keepsakes he’s collected over the years, and the collection is…extensive, to say the very least. Everything is stored with utmost care, of course — shelves upon neatly arranged shelves, separated boxes to appropriately store particular valuables, display cabinets — but there are enough items there to make for a good amount of clutter.
“Ah! Here they are,” Childe hears somewhere from within.
Zhongli emerges with his clothes, looking rather triumphant.
Childe gasps. “It is the whale sweater!”
He holds his arms out wide so that Zhongli can deposit the folded clothes, hugging them to his chest and nuzzling his face into the sweater.
“Was wondering where you went,” he mumbles, “you’re the softest.”
A small, fond smile dawns on Zhongli’s face. “While you get changed, shall I prepare the iced tea?”
“Yeah! Iced tea!” Childe hops down the hall and then in little circles, squeezing his sweater tight to his chest.
“I shall take that as an enthusiastic yes.”
Childe rushes through getting changed, enough that he accidentally stumbles out into the hall with his sweater on backwards, eyebrows furrowing as he catches his reflection in the mirror hall.
There’s no whale on his sweater.
Wait.
He scrambles back into Zhongli’s room, shoving the sweater up over his head as he goes. Thankfully, he gets it right on his second try, padding into the kitchen with a cartoon whale proudly showcased on his chest.
“Ah! That was rather quick. I have iced tea for both of us here,” Zhongli says, carefully offering Childe a glass that’s frosted from the cold.
Childe has never been very picky with food, so he likes most things that Zhongli prepares for him, but he especially likes iced tea. He sits at the table with Zhongli, legs swinging absently as he takes a few gulps from his cup at a time.
Through the window, he can see that the sky has been engulfed by black, a few brighter stars winking here and there. Zhongli’s apartment is flooded with warm light, candles and decorative lamps adorning most surfaces. As he peers around, his eyes catch a small box of his toys, the end of a wooden train and a silvery bag of marbles poking out from the top, catching the light.
“Wanna play,” he says, kicking his feet.
“Have you finished your tea?”
“Um…”
Childe turns back toward his glass and gulps down the small remainder of tea.
“Yup!”
“Very well. I’ll sit on the couch over there with my own drink — I still have a book from Wanwen bookhouse to finish reading.”
As Childe settles on the floor and begins to construct a track for his train and a separate track for his marbles, Zhongli sits on the couch behind him, engrossed in his book. Occasionally, he will peer over if Childe asks his opinion on one of his toys (“Here! What about this one? Do you like it?”)
He pieces together a small track for his marbles, transfixed as he watches it roll along and smiling proudly once it reaches the end. He’s not sure exactly how much time passes as he repeats the same motion, but at some point he starts to grow weary, rubbing at his tired eyes every few seconds.
Eventually, when night has well and truly set in, Childe shuffles up to Zhongli, tears brimming in his eyes.
“Childe? Is something the matter?” he asks, as he sets his book down.
“Mhm. Tired but wanna keep playing,” he mumbles, clambering onto the couch.
Zhongli raises an arm, allowing Childe to burrow into his side. He feels his chest rumble as he responds.
“I see. That is indeed a predicament. Perhaps I can offer a compromise?”
“‘Kay,” Childe warbles, “like what?”
“Like…once you have taken a nap, you can play to your heart’s content, and you can have the final leftover rice bun. I made sure to store it appropriately.”
“Hmm…and more tea?”
“And more tea.”
Childe considers this with a sniffle. “Can I stay with you?” he asks.
“But of course. You can sleep in my bed if you so wish — adepti do not have the same requirements for sleep that mortals do.”
“Okay,” Childe agrees with a quick nod.
A pause.
“…I’m tired.”
Zhongli huffs, amused. “I had gathered as much. Let’s set off to bed, shall we?”
Under the glow of a lamp, Zhongli continues to read his book, only now he’s sitting upright against the headboard of his bed. Childe lies fast asleep beside him, tucked beneath several blankets.
He sighs, content, and flicks to the next page.