Chapter Text
“Morax.” The Tsaritsa stared him down, unmoved. “I do not remember inviting you here. This business does not concern you.”
“You will find that it concerns me a great deal,” Rex Lapis said gravely. “This attempt to breach the contract forged between us is a great insult to me, and I cannot allow you to continue.”
The Tsaritsa's eyes narrowed, and her lips thinned as she pressed them together in anger. “I would never insult you so brazenly.”
At least not openly, Childe thought to himself wryly.
The Tsaritsa continued,“I have no intention of breaking our contract — what makes you believe that to be my intention?”
“Months have now passed since we made our agreement, and Liyue has yet to be tested,” Rex Lapis said, head held high. “Your actions today will harm the designated administrator. I cannot allow you to continue.”
“I am afraid I do not understand.” The Tsaritsa said coolly. “Liyue will indeed be tested as we agreed. There has been no breach of contract.”
“We did agree that the test would be performed by the Eleventh Harbinger, did we not?” Rex Lapis raised a single discerning eyebrow.
“We did,” The Tsaritsa acknowledged. She nodded to the girl standing in what had been Childe’s rightful place. “Worry not. The Eleventh Harbinger will do her duty. Surely she will satisfy the terms of the contract?”
“That is where you are wrong,” Rex Lapis said, brow furrowing. “If you check the exact wording of our contract, I believe you will find it specifies that, quote, The person contracted to undertake this task is the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, henceforth referred to in this document as Tartaglia, or by codename, Childe. The responsibility of informing him of this task is that of the Fatui, particularly their Archon.”
“I see.” The Tsaritsa smiled, saccharine. “I assure you, Morax, I had no intention of offending you. Due to previously unforeseen circumstances, Tartaglia is no longer the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. In fact, he has committed treason, and has been sentenced to death before the throne. Given these new developments, I propose that we renegotiate our contract in order to remove his name from it entirely. Are you amenable?”
Rex Lapis did not even bother to consider her words.
“No.”
“Excuse me?” The Tsaritsa frowned. “Come now, Morax, be reasonable. This boy is not worth a fight between gods.”
“You insult my customs by asking to renegotiate at this juncture,” Rex Lapis said, unforgiving. “I established a contract with you in good faith, and I have no wish to change it now. A contract cannot be renegotiated without the agreement of both parties. I do not agree. Thus, the contract stands as written, and you cannot harm this man until his duty to Liyue has been fulfilled.”
“You dare accuse me of insult?” The Tsaritsa drew herself up, angered. “You ask me to forgive a traitor to my lands for the benefit of yours! Indeed, you even interrupted domestic proceedings to demand it of me. Is this not presumptuous in the extreme? I cannot allow such a slight. Tartaglia will be executed, regardless of our contract.”
“So you refuse to uphold the terms of our contract?” Rex Lapis asked.
“Your terms were reasonable at their inception, but are no longer,” The Tsaritsa said. “And since you refuse to allow us to renegotiate, I have no other option.”
Rex Lapis’s eyes narrowed, and his form shifted ever so slightly. Childe sucked in a breath. The battle was about to begin.
“Then you will face the wrath of the rock.” The room shook as Rex Lapis held his hand out, and the ceiling cracked open to reveal cold-blue Snezhnayan sky. Rex Lapis’s voice rang out through the sound, clear and bold.
“I will have order!”
The sky swirled with Geo energy as the area around the Tsaritsa was painted with Geometric patterns in shining gold. Mere moments later, a meteor crashed to earth, encasing the Tsaritsa in rock and sending rippling cracks outward from its place of impact.
Shocked cries rippled through the line of Harbingers, and they drew their weapons, immediately ready to defend their archon, though it would no doubt mean their death.
A split second later, the rock surrounding her shattered into dust, and the Tsaritsa was throwing her hand out towards Rex Lapis, unleashing a wave of icy fury in his direction. Rex Lapis, the absolute picture of calm, was already encased in a shield of jade.
“Who are you, youngest of the Seven, to challenge me?” Rex Lapis asked. His eyes glowed gold in barely contained rage.
The Harbingers, hearing this insult, made several noises of offense. Childe could hear Scaramouche’s growling from where he stood.
“Do not interfere!” The Tsaritsa snapped, eyes flashing icy blue as she threw a cold look over her shoulder. “Do not overstep your mortal authority — this is a matter of Celestia.”
Reluctantly, the Harbingers lowered their weapons and stepped back into line.
“You are arrogant. You believe you can defeat me alone?” Rex Lapis asked, raising a single, mocking eyebrow.
For the first time, Childe saw a shadow of apprehension cross the Tsaritsa’s features. After all, of all the archons, the archon of Geo was the only one who she attempted to barter with for the right to his gnosis. The others faced direct assault. She very well may not be able to beat him alone. Then, snarling, she devoted herself fully to the fight.
For a long moment, Childe stood to the side of the archon’s battle, frozen as he watched them exchange blows, as he tried to process exactly what was happening to him right now.
Zhongli was here to save him, for whatever reason, and with his help, Childe knew he had a genuine chance of getting out of here alive. Realistically, Zhongli could probably crush the Tsaritsa to death on his own, but something about that didn’t sit right with Childe.
The Tsaritsa had picked him for her Harbingers after he’s come stumbling out of the Abyss at fourteen, made rabid and murderous, dripping with abyssal energy. His parents, at a loss, had sent him to the Fatui, and rather than attempting to help him, they had convinced him that he was forever broken — inherently evil, good only for killing, never destined to be anything more than the Tsaritsa’s pawn.
Childe had been at peace with that. He enjoyed the blood that dripped from his fingertips, enjoyed the sense of belonging, of purpose, that had come from serving the Tsaritsa. He had loved, feared, and worshiped her all at once.
Some days, he’d walked along the snowy hilltops outside the Snezhnayan capitol all alone, watching the snowfall and enjoying the vibrancy of red against white, while he questioned if he even had a soul.
The Tsaritsa had often complimented his lack of one. It is what I like about you, she had whispered in his ear. I love you, Tartaglia, murderous and bloodthirsty though you are. That makes me different from others, you know. After all, even your own parents cower in fear.
But not me, she had promised, all cold comfort and sharp edges. She had trailed a single, ice-cold fingertip down his cheek and said, I will never flinch from you, Tartaglia.
But his time with the kids, his comrades on Dragonspine, his time spent trying to be Ajax for the first time in over a decade — that time had taught him something.
He had a soul. It was only her who had tried to convince him he had none.
Abruptly, he realized he wanted to make her break her promise.
Without his Delusion to stabilize it, the abyssal energy that still clung to him was unstable, and even more dangerous to use. He hadn’t dared to use it before when there was no chance of it doing anything for him besides giving him an even more painful death.
But Tartaglia was suddenly overcome with anger, and the power of the abyss slipped into place around his body like a second skin. Suddenly he was taller, stronger, faster.
His vision sharpened and his bones creaked, skin screaming as it expanded to hold power it wasn’t designed to carry. His limbs felt powerful but insubstantial, and he could see the abyssal taint rising around him, emanating from his body like smoke.
Snarling, Tartaglia straightened, and darted across the throne room to rush up the marble staircase, clearing the distance between himself and the Tsaritsa in seconds.
He reached out with clawed fingers, and bodily threw her from her place atop the dais, nails ripping the skin of her forearms to bloody strips. He snatched the Delusion from the seat of the throne, and felt the abyssal taint shiver beneath his skin as it stabilized, solidifying into his practiced Foul Legacy transformation.
On the floor of the throne room, the Tsaritsa had staggered to her feet, now facing assault from both sides. As she gasped, swaying slightly as she drew herself back up to full height. Across the hall, Zhongli stood unmoving, eyes fixed on Childe. His polearm was ready in his hand, but he hesitated.
His hesitation was all the encouragement Tartaglia needed.
In a moment, Tartaglia jumped from the dais, summoning a polearm made of Hydro and Electro to his hand. He hit the Tsaritsa full on, knocking her to the ground once again and stabbing his polearm through her shoulder, pinning her beneath him.
She made a weak attempt to summon Cryo to her hands, attempting to blast Tartaglia away from her, but he gave her no such opportunity. Without even bothering to summon the power of the Delusion to his palm, he raised his free hand and plunged it into her chest.
Time slowed as the Tsaritsa exhaled violently, eyes widening as her body shivered involuntarily and blood pooled at the corner of her lips. Tartaglia smiled cruelly, enjoying the warmth of her blood against his fingertips, the memory of the resistance her skin and bones had given before being crushed beneath his palm. He laughed softly, fingers feeling around in her chest, searching.
His fingers closed around her gnosis, shockingly cold compared to her blood, and Tartaglia smiled. He tilted his head to the side, considering, and met the Tsaritsa’s eyes. Though she was trying to keep her face impassive in her pride, her eyes and shallow breaths betrayed her fear.
He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You flinched.”
He leaned back fast enough to catch the look of shock on her face before wrenching the gnosis from her body. She gasped, back arching as his hand dragged her body slightly upwards, before his hand was dislodged and she fell back to the floor, life extinguished.
For a long moment, there was silence, the only sound being the steady dripping of the Tsaritsa’s blood from Tartaglia’s fingertips, the bloodied gnosis clasped in his hand.
He let the Foul Legacy transformation fall away and leaned back onto his haunches, hands shaking. The gnosis fell from his hand, clattering against the flagstones, and in an instant Zhongli was by his side, gathering Childe in his arms and pulling him off the prone body of the Tsaritsa to safety.
“Childe.” Zhongli’s voice was urgent as he ran his hands over Childe’s body, searching for injuries. “Are you alright?”
Childe looked down at his hands, shaking and drenched in the blood of his god, and looked back up at Zhongli to see the concern that shone in his eyes.
“You… came? For me?”
“Of course I did,” Zhongli said, eyes softening as he drew his arms tighter around Childe. “You were in danger.”
“You wouldn’t do this for just anyone,” Childe observed, head spinning.
“No,” Zhongli said carefully, golden eyes fixed unwaveringly on Childe’s own. “I would not.”
The statement was heavy, hanging in the air for a long moment, before Childe let out a shuddering breath and relaxed into Zhongli’s grip.
Childe would love to say he had replied with something equally romantic in return, but that would be a lie. Instead, he made some cursed sound that was something between a groan and actual words, and promptly fainted.
________________
When Childe awoke, it was to gentle sunlight streaming through a window and falling gently across his face. He blinked, eyes heavy with sleep, and squinted against the sunlight, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes as he looked out the window.
From his room, he could see the familiar green grass and sparkling blue waters of Dihua Marsh. In the distance, the mountains loomed, Qinqce Village nestled among their peaks, and Wuwang Hill loomed just beside the Stone Gate. It became clear to Childe exactly where he was.
Well, it would certainly explain the comfort of his bed and the softness of his sheets. Wangshu Inn was well-known for being one of the best places to stay, whether on a journey or for a short vacation. It was no wonder Zhongli had taken him there.
Speaking of Zhongli, he was sitting at Childe’s bedside, eyes closed in meditation. He no longer looked anything like the regal Rex Lapis he’d encountered in Zapolyarny Palace. This was his Zhongli, with his long coat and gloved hands, missing his aura of absolute power. This Zhongli looked almost human — Childe noticed that his shirt was ever-so-slightly rumpled and he had several hairs out of place.
For a long moment, Childe remained silent, just basking in Zhongli’s calming presence, but he couldn’t stay bed-bound forever. Sighing, he tried to sit up.
As if waiting for Childe to stir, Zhongli’s golden eyes opened, already filled with concern. In an instant, he was kneeling at Childe’s bedside, gloved hands taking Childe’s own.
“Childe. Are you alright?” Zhongli’s voice was gentle, a hint of worry bleeding through.
For a long moment, Childe remained silent, staring into Zhongli’s eyes and trying to suppress the small surprise he’d felt at Zhongli’s words. Why should I feel so surprised? He asked himself. Zhongli defended me against my own archon, when he had no quarrel with her. He fought the Tsaritsa for me.
Oh. Fuck. Zhongli had fought the Tsaritsa for him.
“Holy shit,” Childe breathed, and suddenly he was kissing Zhongli.
For a moment, Zhongli was frozen, clearly shocked, but he recovered quickly and relaxed into the kiss. His hands came to rest at Childe’s waist as he held Zhongli’s face in his hands. They leaned into one another, and all Childe could feel was the warmth of Zhongli’s lips on his and the feeling of his heart swelling in his chest.
They fit together like puzzle pieces, and for the first time in months — maybe even years — Childe felt himself melt, the tension threaded through every line of his body unspooling at Zhongli’s touch.
Zhongli shifted, moving to sit beside him on the bed, and Childe pressed further into him, just wishing to be closer, closer, closer as he threaded his hands through his hair before pulling back and letting out a breathless laugh, burying his face in Zhongli’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” he said, voice slightly muffled against Zhongli’s coat. “I just. I sort of thought I might die if I waited a second longer.”
Zhongli let go of Childe’s waist with one of his hands, and reached up to thread Childe’s fingers through his own. He squeezed, a small smile on his face.
“Do not apologize,” he said, voice warm and assuring. “I feel the same.”
Childe returned Zhongli’s smile with one of his own, but winced as he registered the ache in his muscles.
“Ugh. What happened?”
“Ah. The pain is no doubt a remnant of the abyssal power you harnessed,” Zhongli said carefully, raising an eyebrow Childe’s way. “I never knew you had the power to command it.”
“I don’t make a habit of it,” Childe said, answering the unspoken question with another wince, leaning back against the wall as exhaustion overcame him once again. Zhongli squeezed his hand again, reassuring, and leaned slightly closer. Childe accepted the silent invitation and leaned back further, settling more into Zhongli’s arms. “I’ll tell you the story of how I learned some other day.”
“You do not have to tell me anything you do not wish to,” Zhongli said immediately. Childe smiled, and shook his head.
“No, I will. It’s just a long story, and I have a feeling I’d fall asleep before managing to tell all of it. But how did we get out of Snezhnaya?”
“It quickly became clear that fleeing the palace is rather simple when in possession of its master’s gnosis,” Zhongli said, all dry humor. “With the Cryo Archon’s gnosis in hand, nobody stopped us. Once we left the Cryo Archon’s direct domain, I took us straight back to Liyue.”
“Good,” Childe breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s settled then.” Then, he paused, and looked up at Zhongli, remembering. “What was the contract you made with the Tsaritsa?”
“Ah,” Zhongli sighed, and leaned back against the wall himself. When Childe looked up at him, his eyes were unfocused, staring off into the distance at nothing. “It is… selfish,” he admitted. “Complicated, and difficult for someone who has only ever been mortal to understand. But you deserve an explanation, so I will do my best to give it to you.”
“No rush,” Chulde said gently, laying a hand on Zhongli’s arm. Zhongli looked down, eyes wide and soft, and smiled gently Childe’s way, before covering the hand with his own. Then, he began.
“As I told the Tsaritsa, I am the oldest of the Seven, while she is — was — the youngest,” Zhongli explained. “While Archons cannot die, nobody is fully immune to the ravages of time. Immortal beings do not die, but rather, we erode — our memories fade or change over time until we become weary and dull, out of touch with the ways of the world, ourselves, and sometimes even our own morality.” Zhongli sighed. “I have lost many friends over the years to many different things, but none so much as erosion.”
“I’m sorry,” Childe said, voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “It sounds like a terrible fate.”
“Indeed,” Zhongli said, and though his voice sounded unchanged, his hand tightened nearly imperceptibly. “I have walked this world for six thousand years — far longer than most. It was inevitable that I would become tired.”
“So, you see, the contract was one born of pure selfishness,” Zhongli said. “I wished — wish — more than anything to be able to set down my burden as the Geo Archon and live amongst humans, and one day be able to die peacefully amongst friends, but I could not justify doing so while Liyue Harbor still required my protection. The Tsaritsa, on the other hand, desired my gnosis. So, I proposed a test.”
“For the two of us, it was mutually beneficial,” Zhongli continued. “The Tsaritsa agreed to test Liyue — send someone who would threaten the city’s very survival. In other words, she agreed to send you.”
“Well, I can be pretty threatening when I want to be,” Childe admitted with a huff.
“Quite,” Zhongli said, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “It was simple — I would feign my own death, and the Tsaritsa would have you threaten Liyue Harbor’s existence. If Liyue passed our test, I would surrender the gnosis, and allow Liyue to live without the Geo Archon for a time. If Liyue appeared to be in mortal danger, I would intervene as Rex Lapis and my gnosis would remain mine.”
“I see,” Childe said, mind racing. Part of him felt that he should be upset — the Tsaritsa, or possibly Signora, had clearly intended to have him used as a pawn — completely out of the loop apart from the vague orders to do “whatever necessary” to draw the Geo Archon out of hiding.
But he couldn’t bring himself to resent Zhongli for something that had never come to pass — especially when the fault for his ignorance rested on the shoulders of either Signora or the Tsaritsa.
“Ultimately, the failure of the plan is of no consequence,” Zhongli said. “Your safety is far more important to me, and had the plan been carried out to completion, I may have hurt you deeply when the truth of my dealings had come to light, and damaged our relationship in the process.”
“I guess you’re right,” Childe admitted. He frowned. “Still, I am sorry that you are still stuck being the Geo Archon. Having dominion over everything sounds cool in theory, but I can’t imagine how exhausted you must be after being the highest authority in the land for so long.”
“Do not worry for me, Childe. It may be true that Liyue cannot be tested any longer, but I can choose a successor,” Zhongli said, smiling. “Lady Ningguang is capable, and there is no better choice. Besides, due to my actions at the Rite of Descension, it already appears as if Rex Lapis has died. To the people of Liyue, it will seem like Celestia picked a new Geo Archon.”
“Really, my only worry is for the people of Snezhnaya,” Zhongli continued, smile falling away and making room for a frown. “Killing the Tsaritsa, while necessary in the end, may lead to much civil unrest. The common people have nothing to do with the quarrels of gods. I would regret it if they were to suffer.”
“Well, try not to worry too much about them,” Childe said, giving Zhongli a winning smile. “I’m plenty familiar with Snezhnayan politics, and despite the independence of each Harbinger and their own personal squadrons, the Fatui as a whole is a highly mobilized, authoritarian force. They will be more than capable of maintaining order in Snezhnaya in the absence of an Archon.”
“I see,” Zhongli raised his eyebrows, looking pleasantly surprised. “Then what of the Cryo Gnosis? I’m unsure what to do with it. If we destroy it, Celestia will pick a new Cryo Archon in time.”
“Then get rid of it,” Childe said, grimacing. “It’s got too many ugly memories associated with it. Besides, what would we even use it for?”
“The Harbingers may wish to make chase,” Zhongli said gravely. “Killing their Archon is no small crime. Without my gnosis, we will be vulnerable.”
“They won’t come to Liyue, or anywhere else, looking for trouble with us,” Childe said, completely confident. He rolled his eyes. “In fact, they’ll probably be too busy fighting amongst themselves.”
Then, he sobered. “In all seriousness, for all we Harbingers talk a big game, we value strength over everything else, and to us — well, to them — she was the symbol of ultimate power. They won’t be looking to pick a fight with anyone that managed to defeat her. Besides,” he smiled a predatory smile. “Who was it that killed her in the end? Because it certainly wasn’t you.”
Zhongli laughed, and drew Childe closer. “True enough,” he said good-naturedly. “In the end, the only reason she was winning against you was due to her gnosis, and none of the Harbingers have one.”
“Yep,” Childe said. He grinned, sharp. “In fact, I’d love to see one of them try. I think I’d enjoy giving Signora a nice beat down.”
“It is decided, then,” Zhongli said, tightening his hold on Childe ever-so-slightly. “We’ll destroy the gnosis at the earliest opportunity.”
Relieved, Childe sighed, sinking back into Zhongli’s side. “Good. I’m glad the heavy stuff is dealt with.”
For several minutes, they remained in bed, Childe floating between consciousness and sleep, feeling warm and safe pressed against Zhongli’s side and feeling the rise and fall of his breaths. Then, Zhongli spoke, voice a low rumble that Childe could feel where his head lay, resting on Zhongli’s chest.
“Now that we are free from responsibility, where is it that you wish to go next?”
Childe lifted his head from Zhongli’s chest to stare at him in surprise. “I thought you would want to stay in Liyue, to be honest.”
“I have freedom now,” Zhongli said with a smile. “Why not take advantage of it?”
Childe smiled, and lowered himself back down to rest against Zhongli’s chest, thoughts straying to a small cottage nestled on the outskirts of Springvale, just before the entrance to the Whispering Woods.
“I know exactly where I want to go next.”
________________
A few thousand miles away, Bennett and Razor sat across from one another at the table playing an intense game of Go Fish. Bennett was, of course, losing.
They were interrupted by the door flying half off its hinges to reveal Fischl standing in the doorway, Oz at her shoulder. She looked out of breath, cheeks flushed and chest heaving.
Bennett and Razor sprang up from their seats, visibly concerned. Bennett immediately snatched his sword up from the bench beside him as Razor summoned their claymore, both at the ready.
“Fischl! Are you alright?” Bennett took a step forward to rush to her and check her for any injuries, but Fischl held out a single hand, stopping him in his tracks. He and Razor looked at one another, bewildered, and turned back to see a smile spreading across Fischl’s cheeks.
“Do not trouble yourselves on my account. I am well,” Fischl said. All signs of her normal, stoic countenance had vanished. Bennett was sure anyone else would be bouncing on the tips of their toes of excitement — but of course, this was Fischl, and she was far too dignified for that, so she was clearly trying to restrain herself.
“Thank the archons,” Bennett said, putting a hand over his heart and trying to relax as he put his sword aside. Beside him, Razor silently vanished their claymore. “What are you in such a rush for, then?”
“I was following my usual hunting route, when I came across something quite interesting lingering in the Whispering Woods,” Fischl explained, still standing in the doorway. “I rushed home as soon as I saw it. I knew it was of equal importance to all of us.”
Distantly, Bennett registered that while she was still using her typical vocabulary, Fischl was being far more concise than usual. Whatever had sent her rushing home had to be super, duper important. It only made him more curious.
“What is it?” Razor inquired, tilting their head to the side.
“Yeah, Fischl, why so mysterious?” Bennett teased. “You’ve got me on the edge of my seat. What could possibly be that exciting?”
“Not what,” Fischl corrected, grin stretching impossibly wide, “But rather, who.”
She took a step inside, and then, stepping into her place was Ajax.
For a long, shocked moment there was silence, and then he smiled a wry smile, ran his hand through his now ginger hair, and said, “Miss me?”
Bennett couldn’t have described the sound he made at the sight of him, but between one moment and the next, he and Razor were across the room, throwing themselves into Ajax’s waiting arms. A moment later, Bennett could feel Fischl’s arms encircling them as well, and for the first time since the cold, early winter night when Ajax first left, everything felt right.
It took way too long for Bennett to notice the tall, Liyuean man standing at Ajax’s back, a warm smile creasing the corners of his eyes as he watched them (but in Bennett’s defense, he had been super distracted by the hug).
He wore a coat of gold, brown, and black, stitched with geometric patterns, and radiated an aura of calm that set Bennett at ease. The love in his eyes was directed solely at Ajax, and Bennett suddenly connected several dots.
This must be the man Ajax had spoken about that night by the campfire, planes of his face highlighted by flickering firelight and painful yearning. Bennett was glad they’d sorted it out, but he had a heck of a lot of questions now.
Where had Ajax gone, and what had happened to him? His eyes, while still full of the same kindness and warmth as always, seemed heavier, his cheeks gaunt and his shoulders weighed further down.
There would be time for questions later — right now, they had Ajax back, and it was clear that Razor and Fischl shared his opinion that they should cling to him for as long as possible for the moment.
“I’m so glad to see you guys again,” Ajax said tearfully.
“Lupical always returns to lupical,” Razor said sagely, burrowing further under Ajax’s arm and into his side.
“It’s amazing to see you again too, Ajax!” Bennett agreed. He shook his head and squeezed Ajax tighter. “You shouldn’t leave like that again.”
“We knew you would one day return, Sir Ajax,” Fischl said, trying to sound dignified despite her current, rather undignified position. “You are an honorable man. If it was ever possible, we knew you would find your way back to us.”
The sentiments only seemed to make Ajax’s tears worse, finally spilling over. “Gosh, I’ve missed you kids so much.”
“However, I do have a grievance to raise with you,” Fischl said, pulling herself out of the group hug slightly to glare at Ajax. “How long would you have lingered in the woods, uncertain about approaching us, had I not run across you? Do we look like we bite?”
“I don’t know, it seems like Razor might,” Ajax said, attempting to laugh it off. Razor tilted their head, considering.
“Hm. Might. But would never bite Ajax.”
“You’re too sweet, Razor,” Ajax said, now clearly thoroughly amused.
“Answer the question, Sir Ajax,” Fischl said sternly, shaking a finger at him. Ajax laughed nervously.
“Ah. I don’t know. No point dwelling on it now, anyway.”
“Oh, he totally would have stayed in the woods for a week, debating about whether or not he’d somehow be putting us in danger by coming back to see us,” Bennett said, nodding in false seriousness. He rolled his eyes and backed out of the hug for a single moment to hit Ajax on the arm.
“Ouch!” Ajax grinned.
“You are a mess,” Fischl said, shaking her head. “You would not survive the harsh reality of this world without us.” Of course, they’d all seen Ajax take down several squadrons of Fatui Agents on his own without breaking a sweat, so such a statement was absurd.
But Ajax sounded completely sincere when he said, “I really wouldn’t, would I?” He turned over his shoulder to smile at the stranger. The stranger smiled back, golden eyes trailing over their little group hug, and he seemed to soften even further.
Ajax enveloped the three of them in his arms, all smiles, and said, “Good thing I’m not going anywhere.”