Chapter Text
Blissful sleep was not blissful sleep.
In the supposedly comforting coolness of the room, Aether fought back chills. Under the cover of night, the worst of thoughts threaten to eat a person alive, and the golden boy was no exception to this.
His mind starts where it always has: back at the manor.
The manor was not a tall thing, but rather a sprawling mess of corridors and wings and connected courtyards. The main building was something of a prison, the office the eye atop a grotesque body of glass and steel and stone. The halls slithered like tentacles and locked into grids, trapping him into ever smaller squares of space, darkness crawling over his vision, choking him of breath-
The library is a sanctuary, but only the half where tomes deemed useless rest silently. The other half is where
There are fewer mirrors in the east wing, so he likes the errands that go there. He’s never liked mirrors, especially not the ones in the manor. They claw at your face, pull at your hair and tear at your ears and nose and lips with silvery claws, cut off your toes and beat your arms into uselessness. There aren’t any in the library, nor the servant’s quarters, so those are the places he chooses to reside.
He once loved to
The marchioness was always horrible. But she was only horrible to him, rarely even glancing at Lumine. Perhaps, in her twisted view, she saw him as a threat to her daughter’s position, even though his sister was far more competent. ‘There’s already a fine noble lady in the house, so Lumine could never manage to replace her.’ He thinks that’s what his step mother must have thought.
But him? He was dangerous. Even more so once he received formal education. He could come and seize power over the marquisate, then unfairly cast out the woman and her daughter. Unfairly.
He wouldn’t, of course. How could he ever, when her status as alive and capable held a ticking time bomb over his head? When the bomb exploded, he would be targeted. Then the bomb would appear again. Refreshing, again and again and again and
The bomb and its timer disappeared in public. Under glittering chandeliers, clinking wine glasses and glamorous gowns and tall, skinny tables, safety met them in the form of eagle eyes and owlish ears. It surrounded them with slippery tongues, flushed cheeks and impaired inhibitions, all poised at the pivotally powerful Viatri family.
Over the glassy dance floors, their father praised their skill and intellect, their mother doted on them all, and Delos joined hands with Lumine to tease Aether as if he wasn’t standing on a bloodied stump of a missing toe because of her.
And then they’d go back and the marquis would spell out all his shortcomings and schedule more horrible, nightmarish, dreadful lessons. The bomb would tick again, and speed up after every session of education he was subjected to.
His twin was perfect, though. She was smart and played the nobles like an easy candy-crush level, hid her disdain for the other Viatris so well you’d think she liked them.
It was okay. Really, it was. Lumine didn’t have to get re-educated. She was already well-spoken enough. Lumine didn’t have to do physical errands. Lumine was invisible whenever not in the public eye. They were okay.
They had been okay.
He had been okay.
“Aether! Aether!”
“Aether, you’re okay. You’re okay, starlight.” He was struck by the frivolous thought of rubbing his face against the nice set of tits pressed against his face. It was with a startle that he came to full wakefulness, finding himself clutched tight to the warm body of the Fatui harbinger. He could feel a cold tackiness on his cheeks and a rawness in his throat, realizing that he’d been crying.
“Childe?”
“I’m here. You’re okay now.”
“Was I…dreaming?” Ajax snorted.
“If that’s a dream, I’m scared about your nightmares.” His gaze softened, slowly lowering Aether back on the bed.
“Oh. I must have had a nightmare, then.” His hands trembled violently as he raised them to wipe his eyes. If it was because of the familiar tremors or his newfound physical uselessness, he wasn’t sure.
What he was sure of though, was that the ginger’s body was very nice and made him feel very hot. That was a problem, since Childe was Kaeya’s boyfriend and therefore off limits. Kaeya was off limits too. He tried not to think about the way his heart sagged at that.
“Yes. It looked like a bad one. Do you want to talk about it?”
“Huh? Oh…I would if I remembered. I don’t remember nightmares though.” Ajax settled into bed next to him, laying over the tucked covers.
“That’s good, then. It’s still early. You wanna sleep more?”
“No, it’s fine. I need to move around more.” He gingerly flexed his muscles, taking the liberty of holding onto Childe’s shoulder as he pushed himself to a stand. A few full meals and a night of sleep later, his body was feeling much better. His legs barely wavered as he reached the doorframe, looking back in question.
“Uh…where’s the bathroom again?” He’d been half asleep when he was guided there earlier.
“Just down that hall. Would you like me to come with?” He offered, almost hopeful. Aether giggled.
“No, I’ll be alright. I’ll yell if I need help.” As much as he enjoyed the attention and care, it felt good to do normal things alone after that explosion of batshit.
The bathroom was larger than half the servant’s quarters back at the manor. The tiles gleamed dark and turquoise, white marble streaks appearing as he made his way to the bath. It was bigger than his bed, enough to be called a personal jacuzzi. Beyond that was the shower, and across from it the toilet. Both glimmered silver chrome in the pale white lighting, bright enough to make him blink a few times.
The toilet seemed to whir to life, small blue buttons flashing as he sat on a pre-warmed seat. The corridor here had been all mahogany and warm lighting, classic old Mondstadt style, so the sharp modernity of the bathroom was a little jarring.
He bent over his knees and let his face droop. Nightmares again. Sometimes he wished he could remember them, if only to know himself a bit better. Other times, if he woke up screaming or actively thrashing, he’d sit down and thank his mind over and over and over. Crying was different, though. Crying made him curious.
He glanced at the projected clock blinking on the black stone wall. It was nearly six in the morning, meaning he’d gotten a bit more than five hours of sleep. He groaned. If there was nothing important to do, he’d decide to go right back to sleep.
Ah, but wait! There’s never nothing important to do! There will likely never be nothing important to do ever again, if he looked at his available options.
As much as he wanted to fall back into a, this time hopefully, peaceful sleep, a thrum of stress at the back of his mind threatened to keep him awake.
Snezhnaya or Mondstadt? Big, scary military with protection, or familiar, less scary secret existence with a target on his back? A risky life of espionage, or invisibility for the rest of his life?
Well, okay. Obviously, his options were more complicated than that, but Adelinde’s grim, very unhelpful warning made it sound like that. ‘With whom your loyalties lie’, his ass.
He has no loyalties. No one deserves his loyalty. Is his loyalty something to be earned at all? Is it worth anything to anyone?
Childe has his loyalty. So does Kaeya, and most likely Diluc as well. Hillie and Moco have been nothing but pleasant company, and L- Adelinde is on his good side…for now.
But what good is that? Who cares who he aligns with? What exactly does the Tsaritsa stand to gain from information from Mondstadt nobility? Sure, a lot, but why him? Doesn’t she have an entire specialized force specifically for these kinds of things? Hell, couldn’t Childe be sent to do it?
What would his espionage bring to the two nations, and possibly others as well? How would his position, his relationship with these three men in his life change, for better or for worse? Might a betrayal to Mond be the ticket to the Tsaritsa’s ruthless path to domination over all of Teyvat?
And what if he chooses to go against Snezhnaya, the Tsaritsa, against all the harbingers? Would the duke know and protect him? Could the Ragnvindr industries even protect him? Financially, he would be above everyone except perhaps the governments of the largest nations, including the land of ice and snow.
Oh fuck, was the fate of the entire continent resting on his singular decision? Was this kind of decision reversible? Was there any other sustainable option? What if he tried to turn his back on either side? Would he-
Calm yourself. Calm your tits.
He squeezed his eyes shut. In, hold, out. Count to ten. In, hold, out.
Too many questions and not enough answers. So he should stop asking them.
When he opened his eyes again, the clock told him he’d been sitting for nearly half an hour. He jerked up, then had to stop, because his legs were numb and cramped and unmoving.
He willed himself to go brain dead as he worked his way off his porcelain throne and to the sink. The sink was more of a dip in the countertop, shallow enough to not notice if the water wasn’t running. He looked up and tensed at his own reflection, before manually easing his body. Cropped blond hair was messily combed back, twirls of carelessly chopped locks springing against his cheeks and forehead, braided back down to his waist. His eyes were a tangy gray, like the musk yellow sky of dusty, storm-warning clouds. Discoloration rimmed his eyes, pale cracked lips on paler dry skin only making the greenish bruise on his jaw stand out.
Lovely? Kaeya must be joking.
Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of gray whipped around. Aether paid no mind at first, thinking it a blinking haze of sleep and exhaustion. When it was followed by red eyes right next to him, he very much screamed, bringing an elbow to the intruder’s face and stumbling back onto his ass.
“Holy fucking-”
“Aether! Are you all- holy fucking shit.” The ginger seemed to spawn to his rescue, coming right up behind the intruder and grabbing their shoulder. He twirled them around (roughly), and slammed them against the wall in a headlock. A moment of shaky breathing later, the two heard rushed footsteps from down the hall.
“Aether? Baby? What-” Kaeya arrived first, letting a pet name slip in his worry. He stood at the entrance of the bathroom, taking in the scene. Diluc was quick to follow.
“This kid snuck up on Aether.” Childe snarled, hauling the intruder around to face the two. Aether stared through the mirror, seeing the odd bite and panicked expression of a young boy. Diluc grunted quietly.
Kaeya froze and looked at the boy. Then looked at Diluc. Then the boy. Then Diluc again. After what looked like a long-suffering consideration, he sighed.
“Diluc. Bear in mind that I in no way am shaming you for the assumed happenings of various natures. I understand mistakes happen, and as long as appropriate measures were taken in response, what’s done is done. However, I do feel that it was both rash and short-sighted of you to hide the existence of a child for what looks like over a decade, and suggest we organize our understandings of what counts as private affairs and what counts as requiring necessary communication-”
“I- that- what are you talking about?” The duke spluttered, apparently just coming to awareness. Kaeya cleared his throat.
“We were young, and of course accidents happen. I am simply taken aback at how you managed to hide the birth of your child for upwards of-”
“No! No- this is- this isn’t what it looks like.” He leaned against the doorway, pinching his nose bridge.
“I speak to you as both a friend and a brother.” Kaeya was set with a serious gaze. “There is no blame to be had in this kind of situation. Do not be ashamed, Diluc. I understand the reasons behind your choices and only seek to clarify-”
“He’s not my kid.” He spat, mouth pressed his a line, hands flat against each other and pointed at the commander.
“P-Papa?” The boy uttered, looking rather hurt at this bizarre exchange. Childe was still as stone, Aether’s jaw hung open in disbelief.
“...”
“It’s not- there’s an explanation.” He raised an elegant eyebrow.
“...Let’s hear it.”
Diluc nodded, silent, then furrowed his brow as he decided how best to deal with this situation.
“Let’s…move this to the living room.”