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Zhongli watched his husband work the fields from under the shade of their large apple tree. The sun was high in the sky, and it beamed down over them in the heat of the day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and a pleasant breeze swept across the fields.
Childe was carefully inspecting and picking the ripe vegetables before placing them into a basket. Normally, Zhongli would be right out there beside him, but the heat had gotten to him only half an hour earlier. Childe had refused to let him leave the cooler, shaded area, so instead, he had decided to sit with his back against the large tree and got to work practising his basket weaving.
It was a skill he had learned last season from the aunties in the closest village, and while he wouldn’t call himself proficient in any sense, more practice would never hurt. The weaves were looser than he would like, and the number of reed strips in the pile beside him was dwindling. He would probably have to get more reeds from the river soon.
“How are you feeling, darling?"
Zhongli looked up from his half-finished basket to look Childe in the eyes with a gentle smile. He looked concerned, and Zhongli’s heart warmed with the knowledge of just how much he was loved.
"Better than before," he replied, setting the basket aside and gathering up the materials. "I am no longer feeling faint, but I wish I could have helped you more."
Childe grinned and waved away his worries with a quick shake of his head. "I was doing fine out there, just lonely because you weren’t at my side. However, as much as I love hearing your lovely voice as you tell me about whatever it is that’s on your mind, your health is much more important to me."
He offered his hand and Zhongli took it, letting Childe pull him to his feet and directly into his embrace. Warm but slightly chapped lips pressed to his in a chaste kiss, and Zhongli melted into his touch.
When he pulled away a moment later, Childe’s eyes twinkled with joy, though perhaps it could also have been the shadows cast by the leaves overhead as they rustled in the breeze. Zhongli loved every bit of him and their marriage had been the happiest day of his life.
"Lunch?" Childe asked. He looked back toward their small home at the other end of the field. They hadn’t gone out too far, thankfully, but they had definitely spent more time working outside that morning than usual. A grumble came from Zhongli’s stomach and he blushed when Childe laughed joyously.
Childe winked at him and took his hand to lead him back in the direction of the house. "I see you agree with me, my dear. Let’s go home and have a quick rest before we work again this afternoon."
"Very well. I shall prepare something simple then, perhaps sandwiches?" Zhongli replied and, as Childe squeezed his hand in agreement and turned to hurry back, he realized for the millionth time that no matter how many times he saw Childe, it felt like falling in love at first sight all over again.
They had met at a small local festival only a few years beforehand and were instantly drawn to each other. Childe’s charisma was infectious. What else could Zhongli do but fall for him when the ginger man had bowed and pressed a gentle and light kiss to the back of his hand?
"And what’s a beauty like you doing alone on a night like this?" He had asked, his smile gentle and his eyes like the depth of the ocean. Zhongli wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had been immediately charmed.
"Enjoying the festival, and nothing more. What’s a dashing charmer like you doing alone then?" Had been his reply. The mysterious man’s eyes had widened in surprise and he laughed loudly, caught in his own trap.
His smile had morphed into a wide grin. "Then how about you accompany me around this festival tonight? That way, neither of us will be alone."
The night was young and so were they, and Zhongli had felt himself get more and more drawn to Childe as the hour grew late. They had only known each other for a few short hours, but he had been loath to part with this enthralling man at the end of the night.
"For some reason, I wish we didn’t have to return to our homes," he had said, and Childe had only brought Zhongli’s hand up to his lips for another kiss in response. His lips had stayed there for a few seconds longer than could ever be considered proper, but Zhongli hadn’t been able to bring himself to care. Lingering under the moonlight at the bank of the river, Zhongli had felt his heart lurch when Childe had let go of his hand.
"Then we will not let this be the only time we see each other." Childe had taken a step back, lest he be tempted to kiss more than just his hand. "Let us meet here again in a few days’ time."
That was how it had all begun: just clandestine meetings by the river’s edge and kisses stolen under the light of the stars. Their attraction to each other was gravitational, and Zhongli found that Childe had always been in his thoughts whenever they were apart. Without fail, whenever his mind had wandered, he had clearly pictured Childe’s cheeky smile and ginger hair.
If only we could stay this happy forever, then I would give anything, Zhongli had often thought to himself in those days. At the time, though, he hadn’t known what was to come.
Between their meetings, Zhongli had returned to life at the palace, to being the beloved prince of Liyue. He had returned to endless lessons and meetings, constant scrutiny and societal pressure. It was exhausting and Zhongli had wanted nothing more than to return to the freedom in anonymity that he had found with Childe. Because of that, he had never told Childe anything about himself, least of all his status.
"My son," his father’s voice had boomed, filling the empty throne room of the palace with the echoes, "I have received an offer for your hand from the Kingdom of Snezhnaya. You are to marry the crown prince."
The little peaceful yet fragile dreams of love he had held in his heart had shattered that day.
He had wanted to rebel, to protest, to scream. To tell his father that he refused to do it, that he wouldn’t marry someone he had never met, that he would never fall in love with this prince. But he couldn’t. His duty was to Liyue.
Though he despised the idea, he had no choice in the matter. As he already knew that he couldn't simply go against his father's will, he would surely end up as a married man. As he had laid in bed that night, Zhongli had told himself that even if this Snezhnayan prince had his hand, his heart would forever belong to the man with ginger hair who kissed him like he was the only person that mattered in the world.
They met again under the large tree by the river two weeks later, just as they had planned at their last meetup. Before Zhongli even had the chance to greet him, Childe had grabbed his hips and pulled him close. Their lips had crashed together in a desperate, longing kiss. What more was there for him to do than fall pliant in Childe’s arms? It had been exactly what he needed and wanted to take his mind off of his predicament. They had pulled away for barely a second before Childe looked at him as if he was searching for something in Zhongli’s eyes.
Perhaps he had found it since he pulled Zhongli even closer than before so there was no space between their bodies at all, tangling his fingers through Zhongli’s long ponytail and nipping at his lower lip. Zhongli had wrapped his arms around Childe’s neck in response and shivered when Childe had licked into his mouth.
They had broken apart when they needed to breathe and Childe had rested his forehead against Zhongli’s as they caught their breaths. He had looked troubled in a way Zhongli had never seen before, like he was warring with himself.
"Childe? Are you alright?" Zhongli had asked quietly, bringing up a hand to cup Childe’s cheek. His skin had been warm and soft, and Zhongli could feel Childe lean into his touch before he had turned his head to press a light kiss to Zhongli’s wrist.
Childe had been silent for a moment of contemplation before he stared into Zhongli’s eyes with an incredibly intense and serious gaze.
"Zhongli," he had said quietly, "you love me, right?"
Zhongli had frowned slightly—his brows furrowing, and his lips curving downward enough for Childe to notice. "Of course I do, have I not told you that enough?"
"No, it’s enough… I just needed to hear that."
It seemed that Childe had found the answer to whatever question was troubling him, and his grip on Zhongli’s hips tightened. He had taken a deep breath and Zhongli had braced himself for whatever he might say.
"Run away with me."
Zhongli had blinked in surprise, then. "I beg your pardon?"
"Run away with me, Zhongli," Childe had told him, caressing his cheek with a gentle hand. "Let’s elope and build a life for ourselves, just you and me. We can settle on a farm, or even own a tea shop since you seem to know so much about that. I don’t care what kind of life we have as long as it’s together."
In his chest, Zhongli’s heart had soared. He had wanted so badly to accept and his response was at the tip of his tongue but—
"You are to marry the crown prince."
With every moment that he had hesitated to reply, Childe’s posture had grown more tense and unsure. He had let go, as if to stumble back and leave in despair, but Zhongli had grabbed his hand before he could get too far.
"I want to. I truly want to, but… my family will not approve. I do not want to imagine what could happen if they find out about us."
His tone had been anguished, and he hadn’t even wanted to imagine the kind of punishment his father would bring down upon his lover if he knew. There wasn’t any way they could make this work.
Childe had hugged him tightly again. "Then we just won’t let them find out."
"My father wishes for me to marry someone he chose," Zhongli had admitted, and Childe’s breath had hitched. "I came here tonight expecting to say goodbye."
"What…?" Childe had breathed out. He had looked heartbroken and lost, and Zhongli had never felt more guilty. He didn’t want that to be his fate, he didn’t want to have Childe as only a distant but fond memory in his mind.
Tears had started to gather at the corners of Zhongli’s eyes and he had hugged Childe back, burying his face in his lover’s shoulder. "I want to run away but if we’re ever caught…"
"Then we just won't get caught," Childe had said firmly. "I don't want to go through life without you."
"I don't want that either, Childe, but—" he had protested until Childe shushed him with another kiss.
"There has to be a way," Childe had muttered once he pulled away. "There just has to be."
Zhongli had fallen silent, mind racing as he tried to find some way—any way—to ensure that they could stay together. A year ago, he wouldn't have even entertained the thought of running away with anyone, but things had changed. Right now, he wanted to give everything he was to Childe, body and soul.
His eyes had widened. Maybe…
"Take me then."
Childe had looked taken aback. "What—"
Zhongli had grabbed onto his cheeks and made sure Childe couldn't look away from him. "Take my body for yourself. If we get caught, then I will say you married me to not sully my honour. I will take all the blame and I doubt the person my father wishes for me to marry would want 'used goods', so maybe…"
Childe's jaw had dropped open and it took him a moment to find his words. "Don't call yourself used goods, I won't stand for it. And… and you would do that? For me?"
Zhongli had nodded and then he had smiled sweetly. "I would let you do anything."
Before Childe had been able to say anything else, Zhongli grabbed onto his collar and pulled Childe along with him as he stepped back until he was stopped by a tree. The air between them had been thick and heavy, rife with desire. Childe pressed Zhongli against the tree until he thought the pattern of the bark would be engraved into his skin. His lips had been merciless and his touches were addictive.
That night, the prince of Liyue had given everything he had to the man who had stolen his heart.
In the years since, their love had only grown. Childe was the only person he ever wanted, and he knew that Childe felt the same way about him. They had promised each other to be there through thick and thin, sickness and health, and for richer or poorer. They had meant every single word of the vows professed to each other in a small ceremony several towns away.
As Zhongli prepared the sandwiches for lunch, he could hear Childe keeping busy elsewhere in the house. He hadn't once regretted his decision to run from his former life, though he knew it was unlikely he would ever be able to return. They didn't have much—just whatever things Childe had in his bag when they first ran away. Though they had started a modest farm when they settled down, they weren't wealthy by any stretch of the imagination.
It was a very different life compared to the palace he had grown up in, but Zhongli knew which one he preferred. He loved his country and his people, but here he had the love of his life and no pressure to be Liyue's beloved prince. He would choose to run a thousand times over if it meant having a life where Childe and he could be together.
With careful cuts, Zhongli sliced the meat for the sandwiches and laid them upon the bread along with cheese and lettuce. On Childe's, he put a few slices of tomato, since he knew that his husband enjoyed the flavour for some reason. Personally, Zhongli wasn’t a fan of the texture whatsoever, and often grimaced whenever Childe requested them. When they were finished, he set them down on the table and called out to Childe.
"Lunch is ready, dear!"
Childe poked his head into the room and his face brightened when he saw the food. "Oh! You remembered the tomato!"
"How could I forget?" Zhongli said with a chuckle, giving him a peck on the cheek when he got close enough. "You always remind me, after all."
He laughed and Zhongli couldn't help but smile in return. Childe picked up his sandwich and took a large bite out of it.
"Your sandwiches are delicious as always, my love, but you know what's more delicious?"
Zhongli paused in eating his own to ponder the question. Childe enjoyed eating sunsettias and berries as a snack, but he also enjoyed the nights when they had grilled fish. They didn't have the means for anything more elaborate, but it was also possible that he was referring to a dish he had eaten before they had met…
"I do not, no," he replied with a shake of his head. There were too many possibilities and, well, Zhongli didn't exactly consider sandwiches to be the height of cuisine when he had been raised on meals made by the imperial kitchens.
Childe leaned in close and grinned. "My husband's kisses, of course."
And oh, Zhongli was too endeared by that. Childe was such a sap. Somehow, he had the sheer charisma to spout that kind of cheesy line and sound completely genuine while doing so. It never failed to make Zhongli go red in the face, which was something Childe obviously took pride in.
He relented and kissed Childe's lips before pointedly taking another bite of his sandwich. They still had much work to do in the fields that afternoon, so Zhongli couldn't let Childe distract him too much with his affections.
Yes, life together truly was blissful despite its challenges.
Out of nowhere, three loud, harsh knocks on their front door echoed throughout the house, and both men shot each other panicked glances. This wasn't normal. Their neighbours occasionally travelled the half an hour required to get to their home, but they never knocked like that.
They should have remembered that no good thing lasts forever.
"Let me see who it is," Childe said quietly before going to one of the side windows and peeking out in such a way that he wouldn't be seen. A moment later, he returned with a grim expression and a pale face.
Zhongli looked at him curiously and Childe only sat down at the table. "... It's the Snezhnayan Royal Guard."
Zhongli's breath hitched and his hands felt clammy. It had been years, but they had still managed to track him down.
Of course they did, he told himself bitterly, you were betrothed to their crown prince.
Suddenly he realized how this would look to them if they got into the house and saw the two of them—the crown prince's fiancé and his abductor. Worried, Zhongli grabbed Childe's hand in his.
"Childe, you have to run," he said urgently. "The guards, they—"
"No, I won't leave you here to deal with this," Childe retorted. "We gave up everything to have this life, I'm not going to give it up so easily."
Zhongli frowned and squeezed his hand. "If they catch you, then it will all be for naught. I refuse to let that happen."
They would likely see Childe as some kind of criminal, and if his own father got involved, Zhongli couldn't guarantee he could convince both sovereigns to spare the man he loved. He had also never asked any questions about Childe's past, just as his husband had never asked any about his, so he didn’t even know if he was wanted by the order of the Tsaritsa for some kind of crime.
More knocking rang out as the guards continued pounding at the door. Zhongli cast a glance in its direction. "I will be right there!"
Childe's eyes widened and he leaned over the table. "Zhongli, what are you thinking—"
Instead of getting caught up in his own mind, Zhongli kissed him quickly—nothing but a facsimile of their usual kisses, the love replaced by urgency—and pushed him toward the back door. "Go hide in the woods, and don't come back until the guards have left. Trust me, Childe; I will handle this."
Though he looked conflicted, Childe relented and grabbed his face for one quick and passionate kiss. "Just be safe."
"Always, now go."
He ran out, and Zhongli made sure to over-exaggerate the sounds of cleaning up, hiding Childe’s plate before heading to the door. He opened the latch slightly, imitating the shy, demure way their neighbour's wife had answered the door the first time they had come over to visit. He had to seem unassuming and non-threatening. He had to seem as far away from the prince's fiancé as he could.
"I apologize for the delay," he said with a small bow of his head. "I was merely cleaning up after a meal. What brings the Royal Guard to my humble farm?"
The man in the front nodded. "We heard that there is a person of interest in the area so we're checking every home. May we come inside?"
They didn't have any photographs of themselves anywhere in the house. They wouldn't find any sign of Childe, if he could help it. He opened the door further to let them in, and Zhongli tried his best to avoid looking toward the field and the forest. His husband would be safe if it was the last thing he did. Maybe keeping his head down was helping to keep them from recognizing his face, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn't figure him out.
"You live alone?"
The question drew his attention to one of the guards who had just exited the kitchen.
"At the moment, yes," he replied, careful to keep his voice as neutral as he could.
The guard nodded, looking around with a frown while another one stared at him in a way that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. "Must be difficult, managing a farm by yourself."
Zhongli felt his hands go clammy and he had to hold back the urge to wipe them on his clothes. "My husband is away selling our first crops and will not return for at least a week. We also hire the occasional farm hand when the workload is too much."
"I see," the guard said before he kept walking through the house. The other lingered a little while longer, but moved on after shooting him one last glance. Zhongli waited nervously in the doorway to the kitchen. He didn’t allow himself to relax until it looked like they were leaving.
Right as he was about to lock the door behind them and then collapse to the floor in a boneless heap from the stress, the guard who had stared at him caught the door before it could close.
"Hey," he muttered, getting in really close to Zhongli's face, "has anyone ever told you that you look like the missing prince of Liyue?"
Zhongli tried to hold back his gasp, but he didn't succeed quickly enough. The leader of the group nudged the other guard aside , unfolding a piece of paper. It was the portrait his father had commissioned for his twentieth birthday. He was frozen in fear, and with every second the man spent looking back and forth between his face and the portrait, Zhongli felt any hope drain away.
Childe would come back soon, he knew it, and Zhongli couldn't let them see him. He had to do something, anything—
"Well, Your Highness, I think you need to come with us."
Those words chilled him to the bone. He found himself nodding along. Even if they got him, as long as Childe was safe…
The guard grinned. "Well, we may not have gotten who we came for, but I don't think Her Majesty will be displeased."
"I… was lying about my husband," he said quickly. "You are correct, it would be suspicious if I ran this by myself, so I hire several farm hands since I cannot do any of it alone."
The words felt like ash on his tongue. Zhongli never wanted to even imply that he wasn't happily married ever again, but he may no longer have any say in the matter. The guards surrounded him and led him to a cart that the rest piled into after he was seated on it.
"Sorry, Your Highness, we don't exactly have a carriage for you out here in the countryside," one guard laughed, but Zhongli could only feel despair.
"It is fine," he muttered as the cart started moving, and he watched his home get smaller and smaller until it disappeared from view completely.
It had been too quiet for too long, and Childe found himself staring at the house anxiously from his hiding place in the woods. He had grown complacent, and that had ruined everything. He didn’t know how the guards had found him, but he refused to let Zhongli get dragged into his mess. There was no sign of the guards moving around their farmhouse anymore, but Zhongli also hadn’t come out to tell him it was safe to return. He could feel more and more sweat beading on his brow with every second that Zhongli hadn’t appeared.
Deciding that he couldn’t wait any longer, Childe snuck out of the forest and checked only to see that the guards had long left. He opened the back door and walked into the kitchen, looking around with a concerned frown.
“Zhongli? Darling, are you here?”
No answer. He rushed to the bottom of the stairs and continued his search.
“This isn’t funny, love. Please, answer me!”
Again, no reply. A wave of fear crashed over him and he raced up the stairs, tearing apart their bedroom and every other room in his path to find any sign of where his beloved was. There was no sign of him anywhere. Childe fell to his knees in the middle of the room and cried. His head spun and his breath came in short gasps between his sobs, but he didn’t have a clue of what else he could do. Zhongli had promised to be here, but he wasn’t. His wonderful husband had never broken a promise to him before, so there was no way he would have done so now.
Despite the tears streaming down his cheeks and the hoarseness of his throat from shouting for his husband, Childe realized that there was only one other possibility. Zhongli wouldn’t have just gone out at a time like this, not even to visit their favourite neighbours in an attempt to seem unfazed by the sudden intrusion. The guards must have figured him out and taken Zhongli to lure him out of hiding.
Why did this have to happen now? They were happy, they were living the lives they wanted and yet...
“Damn it!” A photo frame fell off the wall when he punched it. “Zhongli… why did you have to tell me to hide?”
There was only one option for what to do next. As he stewed, the despair was replaced by fury. Mind racing, he gathered what he would need while wiping away his tears, preparing himself to set out on foot. He shoved all the non-perishable food he could get into a sack, and made sure he was wearing his sturdiest shoes. Into his belt, he tucked a small charm Zhongli had made him the other year. For good luck, Zhongli had said back then with a smile.
Hours passed as he walked and walked, but even though it had been years since he left, he could never forget the way back to Snezhnaya. Eventually, Childe came across another farmer who was taking his cart of produce in the direction of his destination. It wouldn’t go all the way into the country, of course, but it would take him closer. Every little bit of time saved would count. He offered to pay the man, but the farmer had waved him off.
“Just help me unload these vegetables when we get there,” he had said, and Childe agreed. It would take more time—time that Zhongli would spend in the grasp of the guards—but Zhongli’s voice in his head was already beginning to lecture him if he even dared to forget paying the farmer back for his generosity. As the cart trundled along, Childe closed his eyes and imagined that Zhongli was sitting there with him, just enjoying the warm breeze.
He would love listening to the sounds of the birds and the horses, and he would surely look beautiful with the wind rustling through his long hair. Childe wanted to reach for him and pull him close, to enjoy a peaceful moment with the one who meant the most to him, but he couldn’t. His hands clenched into fists. He had to get Zhongli back, no matter what it took.
When the cart rolled to a stop and the vegetables had been unloaded, Childe walked down the familiar paths, through the towns that he remembered visiting as a child. The fastest way to reach the palace would be to find a guard station and have them bring him there, so that was what he did.
If he wasn’t so furious and determined, he probably would have laughed at the way the guard on duty fumbled with his drink when he grabbed the man by his collar and hissed. “The palace. Bring me there now.”
“Aren’t you—” the man began, his eyes widening as he took in Childe’s appearance. Childe just narrowed his own eyes in return and brought him in even closer.
“I said: bring me there now. Do you understand?”
The man nodded. “Y-yes! I will prepare some horses right away!”
Minutes later, people screamed and threw themselves out of the way of the galloping horses that were thundering down the main roads. Childe followed behind the guard at a steady pace. Normally he would try to exercise more caution, but he wouldn’t dare take this last stretch any slower when Zhongli was at risk. The Snezhnayan Royal Guard wasn’t corrupt, not in the ways other countries’ guards were, but he didn’t trust that they wouldn’t try anything. Zhongli was beyond beautiful, and Childe knew from experience that his appearance alone was enough to make any lesser person lose their inhibitions.
They blew through several towns and, finally, he could see the palace looming in the distance. From here, it wouldn’t take too long to reach it. The second they did, he leaped off the horse and tossed the reins to the guard—who was still barely catching his breath—and rushed past the guards near the entrance. They couldn’t stop him if they wanted to anyway.
The large doors that led to the throne room, decorated by glacial motifs, were just up ahead and he pushed them open with such force that they burst open, slamming against the wall with a resounding bang. Steeling his gaze and straightening his posture, Childe stormed into the room and walked directly up to the bottom of the steps that led to the Tsaritsa’s throne.
“Where is he?” Childe demanded as silence fell over the room. “Where have you taken Zhongli? Release him. Now.”
The Tsaritsa looked down at him with a frosty gaze. “I know not of whom you speak, Tartaglia, but this is no way to greet your mother after so long.”
She was his mother in name only. When he was younger, Childe had lived on a farm with his parents—who were farmhands—and they had sent him to the Fatui, Snezhnaya’s army, when he was barely a teenager. There, he had quickly risen through the ranks on talent and skill alone. He had worked hard for his accomplishments, and wanted to show everyone that a mere commoner from the countryside could be just as good as anyone else. This had caught the attention of the Tsaritsa, and she had cut his family a deal: in exchange for adopting him as her son, and as the crown prince, his family would never have to worry about money again. Of course, he had agreed.
He had never regretted that decision because it meant that his parents and siblings wouldn’t live in poverty. They were proud of him. Now, that title was just in the way of his own happiness. If only he weren’t an important political figure, Zhongli wouldn’t have been targeted just to get him to return home.
Childe gritted his teeth. “I don’t care. Where. Is. He?”
“Calm yourself, Tartaglia. Your anger does not become you,” she commanded and he fell silent, quelling his fury for the time being. “I cannot release someone who is not in our possession.”
She stood and walked down the steps from her dais, putting them at the same height. “I am overjoyed for your safe return, and now that you are here, everything will be alright.”
“Nothing is alright—” he tried to protest, but the Tsaritsa silenced him with a look.
She reached up and gently touched her fingertips to his face. “I am unsure where you have been for these past few years, but you are here now. The arrangement can go forward.”
The arrangement.
Childe felt his blood run cold. After so long, he had honestly forgotten about it. All those years ago, his mother had tried to find the perfect spouse for him. It was his desire to get away from the pressure that led to him meeting Zhongli at the festival in the first place. Only after the arrangement had been finalized had he decided to run away for good. He had dragged Zhongli into his mess, and now Childe wasn’t sure if there was anything he could even do to stop it.
“But I—”
Her eyes narrowed. “The marriage will happen as soon as possible. It has been pushed back long enough already. You are lucky that Liyue’s royal family is already here.”
The Tsaritsa snapped her fingers and several servants, and a few guards responded to her summons. “Prepare him for his marriage, and you—” she looked at one of the maids “—go prepare his fiancé.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” the maid said with a bow before rushing out of the room. Childe felt his heart sink. She wasn’t listening to him.
“You can’t force me to do this,” he hissed, and she looked at him with an impassive expression. “I am already married.”
“Your engagement from before still stands. You will fulfil your duty to your kingdom.”
Her voice was as cold as the permafrost of the north and yet her eyes blazed. At that point, Childe already knew that trying to argue with her would be like trying to put out a forest fire with one of Zhongli’s teacups. It was useless.
He spent the following hours in a daze, halfway to tears, even as the servants washed his body and styled his hair. They forced him into formalwear like a child would put an outfit on a doll, and he couldn’t bring himself to care about being manhandled as his mind was too preoccupied. Not even the servants’ squabbling over which shoes complemented his outfit best broke through his thoughts.
First, he couldn't find Zhongli, and now his own mother was pushing him toward a marriage that he didn’t want. He had already promised his heart and soul to another, so any vows he was forced to say today would be against his will. They wouldn’t overwrite his other ones, the ones they had written themselves. Not if he had anything to say about it.
Perhaps… he could reach the altar and make such a mess of things that the wedding would be called off. Was there any way to do that without causing a massive diplomatic incident at a wedding already several years behind schedule? He had never met his fiancé, but Childe didn’t hold him responsible for any of this. Childe could only hope this prince wouldn’t be too offended.
Anything would be better than being forced to spend the rest of their lives together when Childe already knew he would grow resentful. Many people had always told him that an arranged marriage was a necessary evil, and that spouses didn’t have to love each other. It sounded like torture, especially now that he had gotten a taste of what it should feel like with Zhongli. He had already found his happy ending, and now other people were trying to overwrite it.
When Childe was pushed into the room, he saw a person draped in countless layers of weighty red fabric standing up at the altar. Their head was covered by a red veil—in accordance with the traditions of Liyue, his mind supplied—and he felt awful that he couldn’t love his betrothed. Maybe in another world when he hadn’t met Zhongli, he might have been able to.
When the ceremony began, he heard quiet sobs coming from under the veil and Childe couldn’t tell if they were happy or sad ones. The time was drawing near when he would very publicly reject the marriage. As much as he loathed it, he couldn’t bring himself to do so without seeing the face of his fiancé just once. It would hurt more to see the expression on his face when he carried out his plan, but Childe would feel guiltier to not know and forever keep this foreign prince in his memories as a faceless, nameless person in the background.
All the other voices in the hall were dull and droning, but Childe found his attention drawn to his fiancé. They had never met before, but he had no way of knowing how much the other prince knew about him, or if his betrothed had fallen for him from the stories alone—not that anything would come of it, though. He was too devoted to his beloved Zhongli to spare a thought for anyone else’s romantic intentions toward him. Of course, he hoped that there wouldn’t be too many hard feelings after what he was about to do.
“And now, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Ajax ‘Tartaglia’ of Snezhnaya, do you take His Royal Highness, Prince Morax of Liyue as your lawfully wedded husband?”
His breath was caught in his throat. He looked around at the two royal families seated nearby and he realized just how much was riding on this marriage. He was silent for a moment too long because the officiant tried to prompt him again.
“Your Highness?”
It was against tradition, but he had to know.
He wasn’t allowed to see his fiancé's face until after saying their vows, but he couldn’t wait a moment longer since he wasn’t about to agree to any kind of marriage today. Only a few seconds later, gasps rang out in the room as he ripped off his fiancé's veil.
He could barely hear the cries of outrage from the royal family of Liyue as he looked up. A tearful and surprised face, almost as familiar to him as his own, stared back at him.
“... Zhongli?” Childe whispered, and Zhongli seemed to finally process that it was him standing there.
His brow furrowed and he looked around. “Childe? You’re…”
So many emotions crashed over him in that instant. All this time, all this pain, and they would have ended up together anyway. In a fit of impulsivity, Childe threw away any sense of propriety they had left and surged forward, wrapping one arm around Zhongli’s waist and using his other hand to hold the back of his head, kissing him deeply and passionately right there in front of everyone.
Not even the Tsaritsa’s scandalized cry of his first name instead of the one she usually used made him pause. Zhongli melted into his embrace and sobbed when Childe licked into his mouth, partly out of relief and partly out of being overwhelmed. He grabbed onto Childe’s clothes in a tight grip and refused to let go even when people came up to try and separate them. In response, they just held each other closer and Childe felt the tears drip from his eyes when Zhongli buried his face in his neck.
“What do you think you’re doing with my son!?” The Emperor of Liyue roared. Childe shot him a glare.
A tug on his clothes made Childe look back down at his beloved Zhongli. “Maybe we should tell them, Childe.”
He laughed and kissed Zhongli’s forehead. “Yeah, maybe that would help.”
They parted reluctantly and Childe turned to look at everyone sitting down. “I apologize for my impropriety, I was simply overcome by emotion.”
Zhongli swatted at him and he laughed, definitely confusing everyone. The Emperor was doing a magnificent impression of a suffocating fish at the sight of his son doing something so uncouth.
Childe shrugged at the Tsaritsa. “I told you I was already married.”
“Tartaglia, explain this at once!” She stood, looking as if she was about to scold him like she used to when he was merely a troublesome teenager. It wouldn’t matter this time, though. There was nothing she could say or do that would make him feel bad in any way about his actions today.
“So you may have wondered where we’ve both been for the past few years,” Childe began with a cheeky smile, to the obvious chagrin of everyone else present. “Turns out that we had both gone out in disguise and met each other during a small festival in a nearby town several years ago. It was obvious there was a spark. When I heard that I was betrothed to someone I had never met, I panicked. I approached him with a proposition: that we would leave it all behind and elope. At first, he was hesitant due to just getting a marriage offer, but in the end, neither of us wanted to get into an arranged marriage, so we agreed to marry each other and forget about our lives before that point. Although… it seems that we didn’t have to run away in the end since we would just have ended up getting married to each other anyway.”
Zhongli squeezed his hand and looked directly at his father. “It is exactly as he said, father. I wanted to marry for love, and so that is what I did. Our lives have been blissful and peaceful for the years we have spent together, and I wish for nothing more than to return to it.”
“Although,” he said with a small chuckle, turning to smile at Childe, “I suppose we probably should have mentioned our own pasts at some point. I believed that the guards were looking for you because you were some kind of criminal, or were wanted by the crown for some other reason. I never expected you to be the crown prince.”
“And I thought they had found me out and had taken you to incentivize me to return home,” he admitted, to Zhongli’s amusement. His husband shook his head with a fond look in his eyes.
“No, they simply recognized me. I decided that going willingly would be less troublesome than causing a scene. I was trying to protect you, after all.”
Gods, Childe loved him so much. At this point, everyone—even the Tsaritsa—seemed dumbfounded. Childe couldn’t blame them. What were the chances of this happening?
The Tsaritsa managed to regain her composure and sighed. “Well then, please finish the ceremony at the very least.”
Childe frowned. “Why? We got married years ago, so it’s not like we need a second wedding.”
The Emperor of Liyue sighed. “I, for one, would like to witness my only son’s marriage.”
Zhongli nudged him gently. “There is no harm in reaffirming our vows, Childe. Or… should I call you Ajax now?”
“Call me whatever you please, my love. I would even go by ‘lovesick fool’ if you wanted. I hope you don’t mind me just calling you Zhongli. I like it better than Morax,” Childe admitted, making Zhongli giggle in that way that he loved so much.
With a chaste kiss, Zhongli whispered, “If that is what you wish, then I shall forever be Zhongli with you. Shall we?”
Childe nodded and the ceremony progressed despite the interruption. Thankfully, it appeared as if he hadn’t angered either of the sovereigns too much. There was only one more thing that he wanted. When everything was finished and he had carried Zhongli in his arms with the largest grin Zhongli had ever seen on his face, Childe was ready to face the music and disrupt the order of things one last time.
As he approached their parents, Childe could feel his stomach roil. Maybe this would all go well. He definitely hoped so.
The Tsaritsa saw him coming and sent him a slightly strained smile. Obviously, she still hadn’t forgiven him for his outburst earlier, but it was better than the alternative. Liyue’s Emperor, on the other hand, just looked exhausted and relieved that his son was alive, judging by the way he had swept Zhongli away the second Childe had let go of him.
“Mother,” Childe said, making sure to hold her attention.
“Tartaglia.”
He took a deep breath. “I have a request, if you wouldn’t mind. As a wedding gift, you could say.”
“Oh? Then tell me. If it is within my power, I will consider it,” she said with a gesture that told him that he was permitted to continue.
The Emperor glanced between her, Childe, and Zhongli for a moment. “I would also be glad to give you what you desire in the hopes that the two of you will enjoy prosperous and happy lives together, especially now that our countries are joined as allies through your marriage.”
It was now or never, he supposed. Childe definitely felt the anxiety rise up since he hadn’t even told Zhongli of his plan, but it was too late to turn back now.
“I would like to abdicate, but I do not want my family to lose the protections they currently have.”
The Tsaritsa looked taken aback, staring at him as if he had asked her to eat snails from Fontaine. “You wish to give up your position as crown prince?”
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Zhongli—ah, Prince Morax and I, were living very happily on a farm we built ourselves. I would like to be able to return to that life, if possible.”
Zhongli rushed to his side. “Then I wish for the same.”
“But the bloodline—” his father protested until Zhongli narrowed his eyes and shook his head.
“Father, you had me betrothed to a man; the bloodline would end with me regardless. Please, give my position to my cousin, Xiao. I am certain he will do well.”
Childe gave his husband a one-armed hug around his waist and held him close. “And as for my position, my little sister Tonia has been studying politics as of late. I am sure she would be a much better ruler than I could ever hope to be.”
The Emperor and the Tsaritsa exchanged a hesitant glance. He wouldn’t back down on this, even if they refused. They had built that farm from nothing, after all. It would be a shame to let all their work go to waste. Besides, one of their earlier crops would soon be ready. They would rot in the fields if there was no one there to harvest them.
The Tsaritsa pursed her lips. “Very well. I will meet with Tonia and evaluate her potential. Should I deem her worthy, you will be allowed to go off and be a farmer. I do, however, expect that you will return to your position here in the palace if she is not suitable.”
“That sounds reasonable. Thank you,” Childe replied with a polite bow. She would adore Tonia, he was already certain of it. It was impossible to dislike his sister, and she often advised him on political movements in her letters. As for Zhongli’s side of things, though...
“I will not accept sending my son off to have a farm as his only source of income, living like a commoner,” the Emperor grumbled, disgruntled, “so I will agree to this on one condition.”
Both men stayed silent to wait for him to elaborate, Zhongli gripping onto Childe’s clothing tighter than before. Eventually, the Emperor sighed and looked at them with a somewhat defeated expression.
“You will have full access to the wealth that is rightfully yours, my son, and you may not refuse any visits from me. I may be Emperor but, above all else, I am your father. I only want the best for you,” he said. For just a moment, he didn’t look like the ruler of a country. The years of his rule showed on his face, wrinkles and lines, and he just looked like a tired, old man who wanted nothing more than to ensure that his only son was well-taken care of.
Zhongli looked over at Childe and when he nodded, Zhongli turned back to smile at his father before sending a polite nod in the Tsaritsa’s direction. “We would love for you to visit, Father, and I believe it is only right for me to extend this offer to you as well, Your Majesty. I am not quite certain about Chil—Ajax’s family situation, but they are always welcome as well.”
She sighed but nodded once. “Consider the invitation accepted. Now take whatever supplies you may need—get them delivered by servants if needed. No heir of mine is going to fail at anything—even running something as mundane as a farm—and return to this home of yours. Tartaglia, I will ensure you hear of my decision regarding your sister as soon as it is made. Do expect a visit at that time.”
Childe and Zhongli exchanged overjoyed glances and, with a quick thank you to both rulers, they completely abandoned any etiquette that had been taught to them during childhood and ran out of the room. They were in love, they were free, and they couldn’t have been happier.
“Darling, a letter from your sister arrived,” Zhongli called out one evening when Childe returned from the market, years after their ‘second marriage’.
“Oh?” He intoned curiously, “What does it say?”
Zhongli hummed and opened the letter before quickly skimming it. “She says that she has proposed a complete tax reform, and the ministers were speechless. That does sound like her.”
Childe laughed, loud and carefree. “‘Atta girl, that’s my sister alright! I knew this would be a perfect opportunity for her.”
He swept into the room and pulled Zhongli into his arms, delivering a quick kiss to his cheekbone. “But more importantly, how has the most beautiful man in all the land been today?”
“I don’t know, perhaps you should ask yourself,” Zhongli teased before Childe grabbed his cheeks and kissed him squarely on the lips.
“And here I thought I was the dashing charmer in this marriage, not you.”
They both laughed at that before gazing into each other’s eyes and sharing another tender kiss. This year’s harvest had gone incredibly well, and they were expecting a visit from both the Emperor of Liyue and Zhongli’s cousin in the next few days. For the time being, though, they would take every moment they could for themselves.
As the two of them stood there in the kitchen, locked in a blissful embrace, Zhongli couldn’t help but feel that this was where they were always meant to be.