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All over the streets of Teyvat told of a huge announcement, that Prince Scaramouche will be wedded on the next mid-autumn moon. There will be a grand ceremony held for the occasion, rightfully fit for the finest prince of Inazuma. Gold and riches shall be presented, and pearls and jewels shall be adorned and flooded all over the gates at the Tenshukaku palace. This was an occasion of celebration, everyone was allowed to join the wedding ceremony for the coronation of their beloved prince.
But there was a catch - on the next lunar eclipse, there will be a prestigious tournament held specifically in honor of the prince’s coming of age. There can only be one crowned winner that comes out victorious, to earn the right to claim Prince Scaramouche’s hand in marriage. Suitors far off the land of Teyvat are allowed to participate if they so choose to win over the prince.
There are many rumors about how beautiful he is, and many nobles and commoners alike speak about how he embodies the essence of purity and untainted beauty. He is desired among all, a divine deity in a land of mortals. Lords have waged war to earn his affection, vying for his attention to impress him, but many have failed to capture the prince’s attention. Finally, now there is an opening to woo him, after years of secrecy from the public eye.
The golden scroll unravels, revealing a fateful message announced publicly for all the people of Teyvat to hear, written personally by the prince in a fine elegant cursive:
He who cannot claim victory on his own in the upcoming tournament has no right to have me.
—
Coming from a fallen noble family, Kazuha lives a peaceful life wandering, never settling down and simply following where the wind blows, his heart drifting from place to place. He has no destination in mind as he returns to stop by the streets of Inazuma, hearing the news of the crown prince's upcoming coronation and the tournament that will be held for his hand in marriage.
There are whispers and chatter all around him, speaking of the renowned prince.
“Have you heard the news? The prince is finally going to make an appearance after years of secrecy.”
“Bet there will be a lot of suitors entering the tournament, people are dying to see him. Everyone is trying to win a spot to get into his good graces,”
“-I have heard that the prince is an omega and he is very beautiful…there will be a riot when he finally shows his face to the public,”
Kazuha closed his eyes, tucking his straw hat down to hide his face. While the stories of the crown prince are intriguing to hear, sometimes being able to hear too much information from others feels more like an invasion of privacy. A small part of him is curious, however.
Even back when he was a noble, he had heard many stories about the crown prince growing up. At some point in his life, he was almost engaged to him, before his family had fallen from nobility and tarnished in fame. It could be some strange fate to think they almost became engaged. Kazuha just so happened to return to Inazuma when the crown prince had grown up, about to finally show his face to the public after all these years. Perhaps this is a sign.
Unlike the others, Kazuha was long past the age of nobility and had no interest in moving up the social ladder for any kind of prestige. He was initially not going to pay the news any mind, but something about the winds was whispering to him, telling him to listen to his heart.
There was a spark of curiosity when he read the golden scroll message posted on the walls of Inazuma, a handwriting familiar to him from his days of writing letters to the prince as a young child, once upon a time.
He who cannot claim victory on his own in the upcoming tournament has no right to have me.
Kazuha reread the engraving several times, memorizing each word and curvature of the handwriting written in fine black ink. There was no doubt about it, this was written by the crown prince. He remembered his delicate handwriting anywhere, even after all these years.
Perhaps it was curiosity from nostalgia or even longing, that Kazuha decided to stay longer in Inazuma, until the day of the tournament.
—
On the day of the lunar eclipse, a grand tournament took place in the land of Inazuma, filled with commotion and festivity. Commoners and nobles alike gathered around the center of the Tenshukaku palace, where the main battleground took place. The army troops of the shogun stood on the sidelines, waiting for order alongside purple banners that marked the holy symbol of the electro archon. At the highest stairway of the palace lies two golden chairs, one fit for the throne of the mighty Shogun, the other for the crown prince.
The imposing purple doors of the palace opened, revealing the face of their beautiful mighty Raiden Shogun. “Thank you everyone for coming here today. We have a very special occasion,” She voiced out with her voice firm and powerful, strong and unwavering. “We shall commence the tournament for the crown prince’s hand in marriage, celebrating in honor of his coming of age. People of Inazuma, your electro archon has graced you with a chance to prove your worth, only one victor can come out victorious. Prove yourselves and fight. Show me your strength, your merit, and your loyalty, here on this battleground under our blessings.”
There is a resounding roar that echoes all across Inazuma, the cries of the people and civilians alike all bowing underneath the rule of the mighty Shogun.
“People of Inazuma, I am proud to finally present to you the crowned prince and my beloved son that will reign the future of this country: Scaramouche.”
The palace doors open slowly as everyone holds their breath.
A god has descended upon them.
An immortal walks down the grand stairway with his shoulders held high, his beautiful black kimono draped on his slender shoulders down to his pearl white legs, cascading to his lower back. The black kimono is embroidered with ruby red flowers hanging loose enough that his collarbone was exposed, making him look alluring and elegant. A blood-red hat shaded his indigo hair with a translucent black veil, hiding outsiders from being allowed to see his face. His scent is utterly irresistible, tempting others to wage war and bloodshed to win his affection.
Kazuha understands at that moment why everyone would surrender their sanity and riches for this man, he was devastatingly beautiful. Deadly yet captivating. Unforgettable.
He realizes that he is no different from everyone else, willing to duel for his hand in marriage.
The immortal uncovers the black veil, revealing his porcelain face as he slowly opens his eyes. His stunning indigo violet eyes are the first thing that Kazuha sees, outlined by a red eyeliner around his long, fluttering eyelashes, with his pink plump lips pursed, enticing. His skin is fair and white like pearls, his eyes like sapphire gems, and his lips like cherry blossoms. He is so utterly beautiful, it is no wonder men all over Teyvat would bow before him in worship, pledging their loyalty.
The immortal known as Scaramouche curves his lips upward, a wicked smile gracing his face unlike his beauty, his chuckle giving away a sort of malice. His regal voice is strong, cunning, and deviant. “It's a pleasure to finally show myself. Let’s start the matches, shall we?” he declares with his eyelashes aflutter, dignified and bold, arrogant but beautiful. “Those that dared to participate in the tournament, I commend your bravery. Your opponent will be me, your crown prince,” He says with his crazed violet eyes glowing, eager for battle. There is a smirk on his face, his aura radiating confidence, as if the goddess of glory smiled upon him, bestowing him an overpowering presence.
Kazuha is enthralled by the man known as Scaramouche. He is forgetting how to breathe, unable to keep his eyes away. His heart is pounding, his body held in place like an enchantment by the beholder, a command that beckons follow me, worship me.
Ah, Kazuha thinks. This must be what love, at first sight, feels like.
Gazing upon the royal prince, he too became a fallen man.
—
Kazuha’s body moved of its own accord.
Before he knew it, he stood before Scaramouche, at the center of the battleground. He heard gasps around his vicinity and paid them no mind. Slowly, Kazuha walked towards Scaramouche in deafening silence, his crimson eyes gazing directly into Scaramouche's indigo ones, mesmerized.
He stood before the crown prince, looking as if ready to challenge him, before submitting and kneeling before his god. There were gasps heard all around him, for he was an alpha submitting to an omega, but Kazuha only had eyes for one man, radiating in all his brilliance and glory.
“It's a pleasure to finally meet you, my prince. My name is Kazuha Kaedahara.” he bowed his head with his hand to his chest, giving him his utmost respect, not daring to look up until told to do so.
Scaramouche regarded him with calculating eyes, assessing him from head to toe before he slyly smiled. “Raise your head. Kaedehara, you say? Are you here to challenge me?”
Kazuha smirked at the irony of the question, he wasn’t planning on battling the crown prince, but that was before. Now, that sounded most intriguing to him. He was excited to meet Scaramouche in person and be able to test his full abilities. Just being able to talk to the man in the same vicinity felt surreal, as if he was living in a dream.
“It would be my greatest honor to duel you in combat,” Kazuha stated, smiling as he raised his head to meet Scaramouche’s sapphire eyes, finally face to face. Beautiful. He was utterly breathtaking.
He gracefully took Scaramouche’s slender hand and pledged his loyalty, kissing his knuckles with the faintest touch. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, in wholehearted devotion, in awe and reverence, for the otherworldly omega before him. Kazuha vowed to his prince like a sacred promise, a prayer on his lips,
“I will bring glory to your name.”
—
“Blue Morning Glory”
I think of you when I see the night sky,
The full moon shining in your eyes.
Your everlasting beauty is resilient,
Heavenly glory kisses your hand.
The fleeting morning rises again,
But my longing for you is eternal.
One day, a red bird flew to his windowsill to deliver him a handwritten letter. Scaramouche never forgot the anonymous letter that was written to him years ago, the poem titled: Blue Morning Glory.
It was the first gift he received anonymously. Scaramouche was so used to getting extravagant gifts that were from high-status nobles vying for his favor, that this made him curious. The person who wrote to him spoke eloquently and had elegant penmanship, an almost chivalrous tone in the choice of his words. The letter smelled pleasantly like autumn maple leaves, crisp and fragrant.
“Hm? Interesting.” A young Scaramouche reread the letter several times, his palm leaning on his cheek as he lifted the paper and eyed it curiously, trying to find any evidence from the sender. None. Curiosity ate at him, the royal prince wanted to know who his secret admirer was.
He selfishly asked all of his servants in the palace to search far and wide for the owner of the poem, even blackmailing them to tell him the truth about the mysterious sender. After several forceful attempts at bullying his servants for the answer, he was finally met with “It's from your fiance, my prince,”
Young Scaramouche blushed at the implication of his fiance sending a love poem to him, his face coloring red like roses blooming on his pearl-white skin. Unbidden, his scent became sweeter, smelling like cherry blossoms.
Scaramouche never got to know details of who his fiance was because it was a confidentially arranged engagement. The only thing he got from the others was that he was a handsome nobleman, everyone was too tight-lipped to expose any further information to him by the Raiden Shogun’s orders. The engagement got called off rather abruptly several months later, from “unfortunate circumstances” as his mother called it, she never further elaborated on why it happened, and he never heard from his fiance after that.
It was as if he never existed, the sent letters he wrote became only a ghost of memory in his early adolescence. But Scaramouche never forgot them, handwritten by an earnest boy that longed for him, smelling of maple leaves.
For the young prince who was rather hard to please, Scaramouche was drawn to the fact he liked this mysterious person’s scent.
—
Soft white hair tied in a low ponytail, deep crimson red eyes, and a handsome alpha dressed in a red kimono that smelled of crisp, autumn maple leaves. Every fiber in his being, even his inner omega is telling him, it’s him.
I will bring glory to your name. There was no doubt about it. Scaramouche wanted to laugh in irony. Fate was a cruel, curious thing.
Perhaps in his early adolescence days, he would be blushing like a maiden at the reveal of the identity behind his secret admirer, his former fiance. But times have changed.
He was still a stranger to Scaramouche’s eyes. His challenger needed to prove his worth and deem himself worthy.
“Very well, let’s fight.” The royal prince raises his hand like a god calling upon his bidding, and lightning strikes down from the sky to reveal an electro-fused sword. Scaramouche wordlessly twirls his blade around his fingers, before slamming the sword to the ground with a large thud, the electro strike resounding the battleground. Parts of the crowd are chattering and yelling from the abrupt disturbance, the crown prince not batting an eyelash at his audience. He narrows his glowing, violet eyes intensely, his stance perfectly poised and dangerous. “The first one to be struck down is the winner.”
Scaramouche is more well-versed in using the catalyst, but he’s been taught the ways of handling the sword at a young age by the Raiden Shogun. Despite being an omega, he was naturally gifted at using electro weapons, the source of his inherited power coming from his pure strength. He was simply a chosen one, a mighty omega meant for the battlefield.
Kazuha also readied his stance, unsheathing his katana sword slowly as it glows bright green. So he has an anemo vision. This makes things more interesting. Scaramouche can’t wait to test out his anemo vision against his electro.
Kazuha is the first to break off their short pause of silence, calmly acknowledging, “May the best winner win,” before breaking off and running towards Scaramouche, his offensive stance ready as his ruby eyes locked in to strike Scaramouche’s left waist.
Scaramouche smirked like he expected this outcome. In a blink of an eye, Scaramouche disappeared right when Kazuha was about to strike, reappearing right behind him. “Too slow,” is what Scaramouche whispers teasingly to Kazuha’s ear, mockingly, before Scaramouche prepares to slash Kazuha’s back without any mercy. Scaramouche stops short when Kazuha holds onto Scaramouche’s sword just as fast, holding a faint smile. “I saw that coming,” is what Kazuha tells him before he counters back with an anemo strike that throws Scaramouche off-kilter, having no choice but to dodge the counterattack before it connects.
Scaramouche raises his sword and calls upon lightning to embed into his electro-fused sword, causing all the electro-sparks around him to fly around his weapon. With his violet eyes shining brightly, Scaramouche looked like a god of war. “Let's see how you can handle this next attack,” he provokes, dashing towards Kazuha and attacking repeatedly, viciously at lightning speed. Kazuha was somehow barely keeping up, deflecting and dodging all of Scaramouche’s relentless moves, waiting for the right moment to strike.
“What’s wrong? Are you at a loss for words?” Scaramouche taunts menacingly, his attacks only getting stronger, more brutal, and quicker with every offensive strike. Kazuha remains silent, completely in the zone, solely concentrating on reading Scaramouche’s movements. What a terrifying being, Kazuha thinks, the royal prince is almost invincible in combat. Just wait.
After a clashing dance between swords, Kazuha finally finds an opening. He quickly swivels away from Scaramouche and jumps up, calling forth his anemo to release a burst of his whirlwind, plunging at the small time frame when he was exactly within Scaramouche’s blindsight. Now.
Kazuha held back and charged up all of his fused anemo into this one singular moment to strike the perfect blow, all in one shot. Endure, then strike, when the time is right. He strikes down like a white beam of light, becoming one with his sword.
As the debris clears, Kazuha finds his anemo sword pointing directly at Scaramouche’s neck. He is on top of Scaramouche with his hands burning, his heart pounding, gasping for air.
There is a long, deafening silence of Kazuha gazing down at Scaramouche’s violet-indigo eyes, catching sight of the blue morning glories in his blue hues, right within his grasp. Scaramouche stares back in disbelief. For the first time that day, he gives Kazuha a small smile, a genuine one like an earned acknowledgment. Even now, the omega prince is beautiful, smelling of sweet, irresistible cherry blossoms. “I’m at a loss for words at your beauty,” Kazuha confessed to his prince.
The duel was finally over.
On the day of the lunar solstice, when the moon meets the sun, Kazuha Kaedehara was crowned as the victor of the tournament.
—
The joyous day of the grand coronation came. Prince Scaramouche was wedded to his victor, Kazuha Kaedehara in the mid-autumn moon, dressed all in a beautiful red wedding kimono adorned with red chrysanthemum and camellia flowers. His lips were cherry red like roses, and his violet eyes glowed like raindrop wisterias with his eyelashes shimmering, show-stopping, and breathtaking.
Now, he looked unlike the usual mighty prince, but more of a gifted maiden blessed by the goddess of the moon, protected under a red veil dipped in glitters of gold. As Kazuha observed his fiance gracefully walking down the aisle to him, he couldn’t believe how lucky he had gotten, that this person was indeed going to become his husband and wife.
They paid their respects before the Raiden Shogun and everyone else that came to the wedding coronation, and under the blessings of the Electro Archon, they were pronounced husband and wife.
With the crowd cheering and bells chiming in Inazuma, Kazuha and Scaramouche were finally married.
—
After the wedding ceremony was over, Kazuha gently took his husband’s hand and guided him to their bridal chambers inside the palace. He made small talk and asked, “Are you nervous?”
Scaramouche seemed to have almost snorted but held himself back. “Not really. I just wanted the ceremony to be over, my feet were cramping and I was getting tired,”
Kazuha laughed lightly at the blunt remark, of course. That was his husband, always elegant and beautiful, but direct and honest. “Don’t worry. We’re already inside the chambers, no one will bother us here,”
Scaramouche seemed to remain silent after that, following Kazuha into their shared bedroom. Their bedroom chambers were vast. Bamboo and gold flower engravings embellished the Inazuman walls, with red carnations and roses decorated around the room. There were red translucent curtains draped around the large imperial bed made for two, making Kazuha blush. He was hoping the walls were not too thin inside the deeper part of the palace, where their bridal chamber resided.
Now that the two of them were actually inside the bedroom chambers, there was an inevitable awkwardness hanging in the air, Kazuha not knowing where to go from here now that the events of what transpired during the day were finally catching up. He supposed introductions were needed. “I think we should get to know each other first. Please let me know if you ever feel uncomfortable about the current arrangement,”
“Do you not want to have sex with me?” Scaramouche cuts to the chase and bluntly asks him, his eyes drilling a hole into Kazuha. Kazuha blushes at the sudden forwardness before his eyes gradually soften.
He slowly lifts Scaramouche’s hand and kisses his fingers attentively, carefully speaking, “No. I want to have sex with you, but we might be moving a bit fast right now. I want to treasure all the moments I have with you and treat you properly. We can take our time learning about each other. You’re my husband, and it's my job to cherish you,” Kazuha smiles with fondness, wanting to revere, protect, and treasure his beloved. I love you.
Scaramouche couldn’t help but feel his cheeks burning at the words that Kazuha speaks to him so easily, like riverbeds flowing, freely as lily pads floating on water. His tender heart was undeniably pounding at Kazuha’s masterfully crafted words, singing to Scaramouche’s ears.
Kazuha is surprised by Scaramouche’s sudden shift in movement, one minute they are standing inches apart holding hands and then the next Scaramouche brings them both to the bed with a loud thud, his hand grasping at the front of Kazuha’s red kimono with his violet-blue eyes piercing, commanding his undivided attention.
“Fuck that. I don’t care about slowing down, if you want me, have sex with me,” he challenges back daringly, looking even more tempting on top of Kazuha, his sakura scent becoming sweeter with every inch he takes getting closer, his breath tantalizingly close to Kazuha’s lips.
Kazuha stares at Scaramouche in surprise for several seconds before he sighs in resignation. He already feels hard by the sheer proximity of Scaramouche’s body in contact with his own, smelling his enticing pinkish scent. His inner alpha was already salivating at the smell of his omega, sickeningly sweet and oh-so-perfect for him to mate and breed. He tried to resist the temptation, but it was hard with his husband practically handing himself to him on a silver platter. He places his hands on Scaramouche’s hips, and his husband smirks, knowing that he’s won.
“I know who you are, Kazuha Kaedehara. You sent me embarrassing love letters when I was younger,” he raised one of his eyebrows in interest, taunting with a sly smile, “I’m surprised you still came back for my hand in marriage after all these years. You must be obsessed with me,”
To shut him up, Kazuha leaned forward to kiss him passionately, causing his omega to moan wantonly as Kazuha brung his hands to slide underneath his embroidered kimono to feel his smooth white thighs. “I’m flattered you remembered my masterful poems, now I can freely recite them to you in person,” he sweetly tells him while sucking the skin near his collarbone, his husband moaning and giving him easier access to his neck. The fact Scaramouche has remembered his letters all this time sends butterflies in Kazuha’s stomach, making him feel giddy.
“Don’t. I’m going to kill you if you do,” Scaramouche darkly threatens, but it falls on deaf ears to his alpha as he continues to scatter kisses to Scaramouche’s neck, claiming and worshiping his omega.
He stares at Scaramouche’s blue eyes, tells him, “The full moon shines in your eyes,” and takes pride when he tucks his face to the croak of Scaramouche’s neck and feels his neck burning hot, his ears flaming from embarrassment. He can smell the way Scaramouche’s scent becomes much sweeter every time Kazuha praises him, he doesn’t need to see it to know the effect his words have on his lovely omega. Kazuha can’t help smiling into his skin when he hears him groaning, scenting him.
Just when Scaramouche was about to retort, Kazuha lifts Scaramouche’s chin so they are eye level with each other, staring at him fondly as crimson eyes meet violet. Kazuha loves Scaramouche dyed in his color, red looks good on him. “I love you,” he states breathlessly, as easy as breathing, his heart and soul wholly owned by this man.
Scaramouche stares at Kazuha blankly, at a loss for words. Kazuha smiles knowingly before pecking his lips, whispering, “You don’t have to say anything back. I’ll wait for you, for however long it takes,”
In response, Scaramouche looked troubled, like he was desperately at war to say something. To ease his troubled mind, Kazuha kissed his temples, massaging his shoulders languidly. Kazuha truly meant every word, he would never force his omega to say anything, and he was willing to wait a lifetime for his prince to come to him. Just like back when he was still a young alpha writing letters to him, expecting nothing in return.
Scaramouche ducks his head, before whispering with the barest audible hint of his voice, “I always wondered what kind of moron would keep writing cheesy poems to my window. I waited for them. Every single day.”
Scaramouche’s words sound very close to a heartfelt confession, his scent sweetening, like a maiden in love. Kazuha’s heart burst, filled to the brim with affection. He was hopelessly swooning.
Wordlessly, he flips them over so that Scaramouche is laying down on their cushioned mattress. Kazuha gazes intensely at Scaramouche, his maple leaf scent becoming much stronger and heavier as he kisses Scaramouche’s foot, working his way up to his legs and up to his thighs in a scandalous manner, not leaving any parts of his skin untainted, intending to fully mark him from head to toe until only Kazuha’s colors are painted on his unblemished skin, fully his. Scaramouche mewls, unable to contain his sounds of pleasure and it only makes Kazuha harder with each passing minute. He loves their scents mixed, fragrant maple leaves and sweet, cherry blossoms blending into one heady floral scent.
“You’re pretty good at this,” Scaramouche offhandedly states, and Kazuha chuckles at the compliment.
“Anything for you. The night is young, my love” he replies with another searing kiss, under the full moon.