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Published:
2022-11-01
Updated:
2023-07-27
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3/?
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O my beloved, my sweet Hesperus!

Summary:

Written on the dominant arm of everyone ‘lucky’ enough to have a soulmate, is the biggest lie your soulmate will ever tell you. And in bold across Childe’s is “I Love You.”

Or
In which Archons are immortal and sometimes immoral, Childe is lost (But he shall be found), Zhongli eats hallucinogenic mushrooms and Destiny is often sloppy and contextless.

Notes:

Title from The Evening Star by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

Chapter 1: Lo! in the painted oriel of the West,

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Childe waits on the pavilion, eyes cast to the distance where the sun sets, yolky and yellow casting the already amber land into shades of luminescent gold and orange. His gaze finds its way, as it always does; to his right arm, the sleeve is pushed back, where he sees the heavy-handed letters inked for all eternity upon his arm. 

 

Written on the dominant arm of everyone ‘lucky’ enough to have a soulmate, and luck is a relative term— is the biggest lie your soulmate will ever tell you. 

 

These messages span in length and meaning; some are relatively harmless, the domestic ones usually, “I didn’t stain your favorite shirt.” Or Childe’s favorite, his little brother Teucer’s “I love your cooking I swear.” You can already approve of these soulmates because if harmless little fibs are the worst lies to be told to you really what’s the harm? 

 

And then… There are the more serious lies, the lies like “I didn’t kill your brother.” Or “I’m sorry.” 

 

When your soulmate finally says those words, they will change from their deep black to light gold. 

 

Inscribed on Childe’s arm, at the ripe age of 12 when everyone gets their soulmate's biggest lie to them, are three simple words that changed the entirety of his life; 

 

“I love you.” 

 

It was at the age of 12 that Childe had begun to doubt his worth, his perfect half his destiny-given partner- their biggest lie to him, was saying that they loved Childe. And if this being that was made for him, the being he was made for, did not love him, rejected him… then truly what was his worth? Was he worthy of love? 

 

It didn’t help that two years later his parents sent him away. 

 

Childe’s life was shaped by three words stamped across his forearm and he detested it. 

 

Whoever his soulmate was, they had broken his heart millions of times before even getting to meet him. 

 

“Soul gazing?” It’s Zhongli’s low timbre that pulls him from his thoughts, Childe’s never seen Zhongli’s Soul words, the man always wears long sleeves. He pulls the chair out from across Childe and spares him a very small smile. 

 

“Yes,” Childe answers, pushing down his sleeve, he assumes Zhongli has seen the words, they’re large and dark and shameful yet he never stops hiding them when someone draws close. 

 

“Do not get too lost in destiny’s handwriting, it is often sloppy and contextless, we are meant to live our lives not follow a script written to us in less than a sentence.” A waiter walks towards them handing them both menus before departing, Childe waits for her to leave before he replies, eyes flickering to the man in front of him, bathed in the hues of sunset, eyes glowing in its brilliant light. 

 

“I’m guessing your words are either great or terrible for you to say such a thing.” Zhongli peers at Childe like he’s a conundrum to be solved before his shoulders relax, and he lets out a small breath. 

 

“They’re lies,” Zhongli says. “Every word is a lie, I’ve never particularly liked that.” Zhongli is the honest type, Childe supposes he would be upset if he had any soul words because he probably wouldn’t crave a liar for a soulmate so even the most harmless fibs probably irked him. 

 

Or maybe Childe is simply being bitter, Zhongli is terribly forgiving as well and Childe gets the feeling that although Zhongli doesn’t necessarily upfront lie he is a master of omission and he plays his cards well. 

 

“I don’t like that part either.” 

 

I love you: if it was a soulmate's biggest truth, wouldn’t that be something marvelous? 

 

Yet this was the world they lived in. 

 

“This is the first time we’ve truly talked about Soul words.” Zhongli’s voice is simply factual, no other intonation creeps into his tone letting Childe rest easy, some are suspicious or too pushy, but he never has to fear such pursuits from Zhongli, and for that, he is always grateful. “Does the topic make you uncomfortable?” And it’s such an innocent question, gentle too, and the man's sharp eyes are warm. 

 

The waiter comes back and Zhongli orders tea. 

 

Childe orders the same, he wasn’t paying attention to the menu in front of him. 

 

“Yes,” Childe says when the woman leaves taking their menus with her, he twists his hands and pulls at his sleeve again although he knows the words beneath them, cemented into his mind. “I really hate my Soul words.” 

 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Zhongli is never empty words, he seems genuinely sorry, he bows his head a little like he is talking about a true grievance not Childe’s strange disdain for something so many people clamor for, because no matter the words—some people argue— it indicates that you are blessed with another half, someone perfect for you. 

 

Childe’s perfect other half is someone incapable of loving him and isn’t that humorous, because together- two parts of a whole- they hold no love for Childe. 

 

“Let’s talk about something else.” Childe decides and Zhongli nods in easy agreement. 

 

“Of course.” 

 

“I saw Hu Tao the other day.” Childe offers and Zhongli’s lips quirk again, just slightly into that almost smile as if he anticipates what Childe is going to say, hanging onto every word with rapturous attention. “She pulled me aside and asked if I was the one Mr. Zhongli went out for tea with, I said yes of course— and she narrowed her eyes. I belive she was trying to threaten me?” 

 

“Hu Tao?” Zhongli says loftily. “Never.” Childe can’t quite tell if it’s sarcasm or not. 

 

“Anyways she conveyed that as long as I was paying for the tea she was okay with your excursions—are you aware your boss is…a child?“  

 

“She is quite young.” 

 

“And then- get this- she claims ‘business has been slow’” Zhongli blinks at Childe’s Hu Tao impression, expression crumpling into something strange “‘business has been slow” Childe repeats, mimicry of Hu Tao “‘So I think you should do your job better and get me some dead bodies, I bought a few beautiful new coffins and they are no good empty’ and than she looked upon me as if she expected a ‘yes right away.’ What does she think my job is anyways?” 

 

Zhongli is smiling now, small, tender, and amused. Childe feels fireworks explode in his gut, the world brightening as he soaks in Zhongli’s smile, it’s the most beautiful thing. 

 

“Many people don’t have the best impressions of the Fatui, not to mention the harbingers.” 

 

“She’s not wrong— there is a fair amount of death— but still, it was rather…strange” 

 

“I’m surprised she didn’t offer you a coffin.” Zhongli inserts. “She’s already shown me a few and insists on calling me old as if that will age me quicker so she can finally bury me.” 

 

“Please.” Childe breathes, a smile stretching across his face as well. “Did she really?” 

 

“She means well.” Zhongli assures, eyes crinkling further, tea is set out before them and Zhongli turns very briefly “Thank you” he says, and then his attention is back on Childe “I’ve enjoyed working with her, I have a proclivity for tradition and proper funeral rites.”

 

 “You’re a big supporter of most traditions.” 

 

Zhongli concedes, picking up his tea and taking a thoughtful sip, humming a bit when he swallows, clearly enjoying it, Childe watches the bob of his throat. 

 

“I requested the same tea as you, how is it?” 

 

“It may be a bit…savory for foreigners but I enjoy it.” Childe takes that as the challenge it is, bringing the tea up to his lips and taking a scorching sip. 

 

He’s right, it’s vaguely sour and acidic and not at all sweet. 

 

“It’s not bad…” 

 

Zhongli’s expression is doubtful, Childe supposes he made a series of expressions whilst burning his tongue off and then tasting the tea itself. 

 

“It tastes like grass.” Childe defends. “Good grass, but grass nonetheless.” 

 

“It is a type of grass.” Zhongli sets down his tea, gloved hand lingering on its handle for a moment, stroking it almost like one would a cat before Childe's s gaze is once again directed to Zhongli’s eyes, brilliant and humorous. “It is not traditional grass, of course, one wouldn’t simply grab a patch of grass, dry it and call it tea.” 

 

Childe thinks that may be exactly what happened. 

 

“There is a process.” Zhongli continues, voice a teacher's murmur and despite himself, Childe finds that he is intrigued he sets down his cup and leans forward, watches the man's lips move, just slightly, Zhongli can make his voice carry, if he'd like— but today he’s all words that threaten to be swept away, words Childe is insistent he hears. “First it is grown in a particular way, it's a prairie grass that’s slightly sweeter than normal grass, it flourishes with sun so it is usually grown in clay pots on roofs or balconies, it’s known to smell like lemons, and when it is harvested and dried the room smells heavily of it. On occasion the grass will be fresh, the rough ends of it will be used for tea and the more tender root pieces are used in curries.” 

 

“What I got from that— is that it is grass.” 

 

Zhongli shakes his head but a smile twists on his lips, he picks up his tea again and sips it, its mesmerizing to watch, and maybe Childe is just strange but he could watch Zhongli do any form of boring activities and have them be imbued with new interest. “If you don’t like it I will drink it for you.” 

 

“I like it.” Childe shoots back, drawing it close to him like it's something more precious than it truly is. “I was always eating grass as a kid, when the snow melted slightly you could get some…it was always muddy.” 

 

“This grass is very clean,” Zhongli reassures and Childe snorts, he decides he is going to chug this tea when it’s slightly cooler just to see the very faint look of horror on Zhongli’s face. 

 

When he'd initially met the man his first observation was that he was beautiful, ethereal in his looks, long brown hair, rich and neatly pulled back, golden eyes, and gracefully sloping cheekbones, they were deceptively soft in some lights, like an image faded in the sun, softening its true sharpness and only when Zhongli grew angry or distressed or when he was underneath the haunting dim lights, face showing more shadow than fragile moonlight— where their angular nature shown, sloping and sharp, his jawline too, cut as a blade's edge yet Zhongli could appear so very sweet and peaceful, none of the rakish looks that he occasionally possessed, none of the danger that certainly lurked in sly gold, hidden behind the slightest upturns of his lips and his calm demeanor.

 

Zhongli was a beautiful enigma and Childe was immediately drawn to him like a moth to a flame. 

 

They had gone out for drinks consistently and the back of Childe’s mind twisted at the odd thought of leaving this new tradition that now felt ingrained into them. 

 

“You look upset.” Zhongli’s quiet observation pulled Childe from his musings and he found himself vaguely flustered at the unparalleled attention Zhongli was giving him, eyes slightly creased in caring concern, inspecting Childe closely like he was searching for an issue he could solve. 

 

“I just might leave soon…” 

 

“Ah.” And there are lines of humor that Childe can just barely distinguish, and Zhongli is leaning forward gloved hand hovering over Childes. “You’ll miss Liyue very much I’m sure, my city has a way of… growing on you.” 

 

“It’s not just that.” Childe smiles, already deciding which way he’s going with this. “I’ll miss you Zhongli and everyone I’ve met.” 

 

That has Zhongli drawing back eyebrows pulled up before his mouth softens. “How soon do you have to leave?” 

 

Soon. 

 

“In a bit. I’m not certain.” 

 

It was always the strangest thing, whenever Childe met a beautiful amazing person he was conflicted, he wanted this person to be the one made for him, his soulmate his other half, but at the same time if they truly were his soulmate the dark letters across his arm ‘I love you.’ The biggest lie they would ever tell him would be what that seemingly amazing person would lie to him about. 

 

Childe did not want Zhongli to lie to him in the future about loving him, of course, Zhongli probably wasn’t his soulmate he had an aversion to lying in the first place, Zhongli’s soulmates arm was probably something trivial, or a little thoughtless white lie, Childe couldn’t see Zhongli lying about anything else. 

 

But Childe slightly wished to kiss Zhongli before he left, wanted to see his mouth part slightly, his eyes glow, wanted to feel his heat and (probably) taste the tea on his breath. 

 

And suddenly Childe was overrun with the urge to know if Zhongli had a soulmate and what did those words say and had he met them? Would he meet them? Was he saving any relationship for them? Some people did, not dating until their ‘perfect half came along’ others didn’t care as much and, pointed out logically, you couldn’t always know you’d have to spend time together. 

 

“You have soul words right?” Childe asks hesitantly although only moments ago he had done his best to change the subject, Zhongli blinked; 

 

“Yes, two.” 

 

“It’s just two words?” 

 

“No.” Zhongli smiled but it looked a bit bland, fitting awkwardly on his face. “I have two soulmates.” 

 

That wasn’t all that uncommon, generally if one of your soulmates didn’t live long you had two- it was a dark thing, most people hoped they got two because they were lucky, not because one of them was destined to die young. 

 

“Have you met either of them?” It felt intrusive and Childe bit back the urge to sink into himself. He needed to do this, at the very least, before he left. If he never did anything he’d drive himself crazy and he needed to take pleasure in the small things, the small meetings. 

 

There was no law saying you couldn’t love other people than your soulmate, in fact, sometimes soulmates were platonic (That was a rare case, but still something worthy of consideration!) so asking Zhongli gave him an opportunity and opportunity gave him the slightest shakiest hope. 

 

“Yes.” Zhongli’s tea is gone now, he had hesitated a moment before answering, fingers now splayed across his dominant forearm, Childe can’t see through the heavy sleeves of Zhongli’s overcoat but if he could he supposed he would see the two lies written in either gold or black. 

 

Zhongli doesn’t elaborate and Childe doesn’t push. 

 

Childe’s tea has cooled enough so he tilts his head back and chugs it, Zhongli answers with a violent huff across the table and he sets the cup down, throat feeling grainy and thick. The waitress comes over and offers them more food or drink, but both decline and Childe pays the bill. 

 

“Thank you for the tea Childe.” Is Zhongli’s customary response, Childe hears this every time, in the same soft mellowed tone and although the times are many he has never once gotten tired of hearing it. 

 

“Of course.” is his consistent answer “My pleasure always.” They both stand pushing in their chairs, Childe pulls his gloves back on because unlike Zhongli he doesn’t like to eat or drink with them still on, he eyes Zhongli idly  straightening his jacket and the words spill out of his mouth too quickly for him to stop himself. 

 

“Would you be up for dinner tomorrow?” He’s asking because he has to leave soon and he doesn't want to leave without having dinner with Zhongli, seeing him in the low lighting and hearing whispered voices as they lean across the table, close, the environment homey and warm. 

 

“Tomorrow?” Zhongli questions, tilting his head and then nodding stiffly. “I suppose, the funeral setup is almost complete.” 

 

“Rex Lapis is dead, I’m surprised the rites didn’t take you longer, that's impressive.” 

 

“Thank you.” Zhongli bows his head. “I didn’t say I was completely finished but it is fast approaching, I could use…time to relax.” The last part is said with a stilted faraway look in his eyes, Zhongli can’t be too much older than Childe, (he clearly is older but he’s still got the look of youth, it’s his personality that’s old) yet Childe thinks that Zhongli might need to retire if his eyes can radiate such bone-deep tiredness that it seeps into Childe. 

 

“I know about working hard.” Childe speaks. “When I was younger I trained very hard and ended with two stress fractures on both of my arms. I overworked the muscle and it pulled at the bone.” He made sure to keep his tone light, he was of course by no means attempting to make his training anything it was not and what it truly had been was a brutal savagery of desperation laced with an unparalleled drive to succeed, to win. Such a drive was consuming and in a child hard to handle. Pulling a bow back had been excruciating after he had healed his bones still achy and tender. 

 

“You still train, however?” 

 

“Yes, I enjoy it immensely as well” 

 

Zhongli does a half nod as if he understands, they’re standing there, at the bottom of the steps, knowing that the world carries them in opposite directions but letting the moments they have linger between them. 

 

“You seem happier now,” Zhongli says, an ending note to his tone and Childe is glad this is how they’re saying goodbye today, with the joy of a night out the next day and not the horrid clingy shadow of leaving. 

 

“Of course, I’m happier!” Childe is exuberant, glowing, enthralled. “I was sad about leaving, you comforted me and shared the sentiment, we spent more time together and I’ll have dinner with you tomorrow!” 

 

Zhongli has almost a curious look on his face, he takes a fleeting step closer. “How easy it is to make you pleased.” 

 

“Simple joys in life, you have to enjoy them, life is short.” That’s what gets Zhongli to back off, which is a bit sad, he looks almost sad at Childe’s proclamation which strikes Childe as strange because Zhongli doesn’t seem the type to mourn a death that hasn’t yet happened and he doesn’t seem the type to question death either. Childe doesn’t want to die young of course but he knows the path he follows almost promises such an ending and he’s accepted that, maybe Zhongli dislikes the topic because he’s never been out in the field like Childe has, never quite gotten used to the close ever leering shadow of death just waiting in the shade. 

 

Sometimes Childe watches those he fights battle to just live, they don’t battle like Childe does for the exhilaration the challenge, the glory the carelessness that he holds himself to the forced and real apathy warring within him like a twisted defense mechanism and he sees them fight just to draw breath as he attacks how they cling to life and sometimes he feels every wrong because he has never clung so much to life as they, not since he was very young and very youthful. And sometimes— in that brief split second as he views them struggle because they deem life to be enough to struggle for- he feels wrong like he is living in someone else’s skin tethered here only by the itchy blood decorating his knuckles like a the gilded makeup nobles wear beneath their eyes and on their lips. 

 

“Hopefully not too short.” That feels uncharacteristic of Zhongli but it’s said in his easy tone as if he is used to keeping his voice steady and Childe takes a pause before replying to wonder if Zhongli really is as apathetic and unflustered as he seems or if he has merely perfected the art of composure even in the faces of odds and all that opposes those who think they have such power over themselves. 

 

“Don’t worry.” Childe comforts after a pause. “I don’t plan to die too soon.” 

 

For a moment Zhongli’s normally hazy eyes, like looking at a smooth glassy pond in the sunset, all easy waves of soft golds and the delicate underlines of oranges, are on fire, none of their soothing serenity instead alive and frantic, like looking into the sun, hot gold's almost brilliant white. Like one of the stars bursting into the sky, a supernova of flaming warmth that would sear the flesh from your bones and leave you scrambling “Be careful.” He says and there’s also an uncharacteristic intonation to his words. Zhongli is consistently a calm individual, monotone voices and the barest hints of expressions that Childe scrabbles to read, Childe has his puzzle of Zhongli but in this moment the man is all bold strokes that Childe has sensed vaguely beneath the surface but shocks him nonetheless. 

 

“I will.” His ears are red he knows his ears are red he should not be swooning over the ‘fear of death’ talk but he’s very touched Zhongli clearly cares and also— Zhongli looks wonderful undone, all careful mannerisms slipping away to something more warm, and a little bit upset. Childe thinks he may truly be a twisted man to appreciate a man undone, brought raw by an unpleasant feeling Childe has evoked but the sparks of pride do not die in his stomach and he is made of vengeful things.  

 

“Good.” Zhongli settles and just like that he’s all composure again. 

 

“I shall see you tomorrow?” Childe questions thrill still running through his spine even when Zhongli has regained himself because the world ceaselessly tries to make fools of them all and Childe had begun to think Zhongli was avoidant of that particular fate and yet here Childe has done what the world could not- set the man's eyes ablaze and with it his composure curling up briefly into smoke before it reassembled itself into something much more feeble. Something Childe wants to crush in his hand. Because battle gives Childe a life anew and Zhongli’s composure is one he will not lose. 

 

“I look forward to it.” It seems genuine and Childe gives him a big beaming grin, Zhongli’s eyes widen. Just the slightest. 

 

And all trains of thought stop. Crashes like a wagon and splinters.  Childe, hurled out and breathless. 

 

Uncharacteristic childish naive awe- was written across Zhongli’s face for a mere milli-second and it has robbed Childe of the very air he breathes. 

 

“Oh.” Childe whispers because his goal has become so much more lofty, to find that hidden pleasure within the swathes of the nearly impossible and Zhongli is leaving because Childe cannot form any words to tell him to stay. Contrary to the actual situation the logical part of his brain imparts- because the only one truly leaving is Childe. So can he fault Zhongli for leaving as well? Fully knowing he will see the man tomorrow. 

 

When Childe leaves Zhongli will not see him so hastily the next day. 

 

“Sir.” The charcoal hood is pulled low over the thick red metallic mask muting the voice slightly, Childe isn’t completely sure as to how neither had noticed the man but he isn’t surprised. La Signora probably sent him. “I have been…requested to remind you of your efforts, and the plan is to occur in two days' time.” Tomorrow is their dinner and the next their parting. It seems poetic in that irony infused way, the way legends seem to like stories that change paths too soon. 

 

The iron brand of I love you remains steady on his arm even as everything changes around him. Its steady presence is not comforting as Zhongli’s is but a reminder even now, in this hour, that Childe is not a being to be loved. 

 

“It will be done.” He dismisses his answer more liken to an order in its ringing tone. The Fatui bows low no other words to say, because the simple ones he has spoken have reinforced Childe’s spine with iron and acid. Remember you are a loveless being and although you search for it know that the other half of you will leave you feeling empty because you are not loved. That is a lie. 

 

“We are alike you and I.” The Tsaritsa had honored him with. “Believing in a love that we find is no longer there and instead sensing only the absent emptiness of such an existence” she had been the only one to give him some sort of explanation for his soul words, to understand fully the gravity for which they ordained over his life, she alone had offered her sympathies and for that Childe knew he would be loyal to her. His infatuation with Zhongli could not dissuade him. 

 

He would not allow it to. 

 

Still, there was no harm in dinner. 

 

———

 

Zhongli settles across from him like a hawk to a post. With an ease Childe envies, and a grace unparalleled, Childe takes him in like he is preparing his senses for his deprivation, it’s when Childe’s glance makes it to Zhongli’s face does he notice the amusement there. Childe hasn’t seen or done anything so his curiosity is piqued at the almost smug mirth painted delicately across the man's carved features. 

 

“What’s so funny?” Childe asks and Zhongli surveys the room again. 

 

“Perhaps with time you will understand the implications of such a space.” Cryptic, but not completely uninformative. Zhongli is certainly not being mean spirited but he’s certainly not forthcoming, his humor comes from the restaurant Childe has selected and Childe does not quite know why. It’s a nice restaurant swathed in red and delicate carved wood elaborate in their layers of flowers, their food is exquisite and the company is always well dressed. 

 

“I know it’s normally a place for gatherings.” Childe gestures. The tables are large made for parties, probably large events. 

 

“You are correct.” Zhongli praises “Yet there is only the two of us.” 

 

“That is a fact that I am perfectly content with.” Zhongli takes Childe’s answer as acceptable, picking up the large menu in front of him, eyebrow quirking once more. 

 

“Eight courses.” 

 

“For parties.” Childe defends exasperated. Zhongli mouths eight again and Childe pulls up his own menu to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Zhongli can go from seemingly knowing everything— useless bits of trivia and helpful trivia- to absolutely being aghast by the apparent ‘eight courses’ of a meal. 

 

There are many things Childe thinks fondly of Liyue, the food in particular is to his delight, it has such a broad range of flavor, it tastes like a springtime he never got in his homeland, their weathers oscillate between the frigid cold snow to the weak yet bright sun that gives half the population an array of freckles, Liyue has no snow yet it still has all four seasons, getting slightly colder in the winter months just not quite enough for snow. Spring is when everything grows back refreshing and in color and the food that seemed molded for that particular season delights his tongue. 

 

“Sirs.” The waiter is a tall willowy man, hair pulled back sharply and dressed formally he lays down the complimentary tea Childe knew Zhongli would appreciate, the waiter is gloved and he and Zhongli make a moment of long eye contact. “Is there anything you wish to start with?” The man’s eyes remain on Zhongli but he opens his posture, clearly including Childe into the conversation if it were to be something Childe wished to be a part of. 

 

“The Abalone and Sea cucumber please.” The waiters eyes widen a bit and Zhongli’s amusement subtle though it is grows. 

 

“Of course sir.” 

 

“What was that all about?” Childe questions as soon as the waiter leaves- and his leaving is more reminiscent of someone fleeing. Zhongli has taken the tea and neatly poured them each a cup, the fragrant fruity scent surrounding them, the teapot decorated with ornate golden lotuses. 

 

“It’s a very traditional meal for this setting.” Zhongli explains bringing the cup closer to his face and taking a small inhale. He takes a careful sip clearly liking whatever is within it “Longan and lotus.” He pinpoints. “I am sure you will enjoy it. It is— sweet.” Childe doesn’t know where Zhongli got the presumption that Childe enjoys sweets, however he isn’t completely wrong, when Childe has frequented this place alone for the first time he had enjoyed the tea. 

 

“What is Longan?” Childe questions. “I’ve yet to hear of it.” 

 

“It is a fruit.” Zhongli informs “In the same family as the lychee, I am aware you have been exposed to that.” 

 

“I have!” Childe exclaims proudly. “It was delicious, lychee dessert is something I’ll— I’ll miss when I return home.” There is something hollow in that word, in the exclamation causing him to recollect that he must return, that he is going to and Liyue may not be left standing when he is through with it. 

 

“Perhaps take some home with you.” Zhongli suggests. “They sell it in abundance at the market and you’ve mentioned siblings, they will probably enjoy a gift as well.”    

 

“You remembered that I have siblings?” Childe, although loathe to do such a thing- did not mention his siblings in much detail, only ever fleetingly in his conversation with such longing in his heart but nonetheless he proceeded in his taciturn approach to matters of family for as much as it pained him he would rather not anyone know where his tender heart lay truly on this plane, he held no such deep love for himself- no that love was all for his siblings which he was forced not to mention for their safety and yet Zhongli must have glimpsed at the fleeting longing and adoration that Childe had for them. 

 

“Of course.” Zhongli stated as if it were only natural and Childe knew Zhongli was attentive to him, but he had discounted how much truly the man listened. 

 

“You are correct.” Childe chuckled lightly and if he could not trust Zhongli with his siblings he could truly trust no one, so taking a chance which really was not much of a chance but felt taboo nonetheless he leaned forward and let the words which he had held back free. “ I have three younger siblings.” He divulged like a guilty pleasure “Tonia, Teucer, and Anthon— Tonia is the oldest, the smartest in the family probably, because of that she worries a lot and people think- misunderstand - her because of that anxiety but she really is brilliant-“ 

 

“I’m sure.” 

 

“Teucer- he loves me best.” A maybe strange thing to say, anyone not knowing the story of Childe’s well, childhood may find themselves questioning as to why his other siblings also did not have such unrepentant love for him, but Zhongli did not ask for explanation, instead there was only understanding in serene eyes. “He’s left to find me a lot, he’s brave and a bit foolish for it, he gives the best hugs and he loves me and Tonia and Anthon more than any of us can even begin to understand sometimes. He’s hairbrained- the amount of times he’s almost died horrifies me but I wouldn’t change anything about any of them.” He knows he’s rambling but Zhongli is patient and attentive and he misses his siblings, misses talking about them, he can’t brag about them like he wants to can’t let anyone know how proud of them he is. “Anthon- he’s. Well he’s great too.” 

 

“That is all?” Zhongli questions gently when Childe falls silent and Childe fights the urge to bite the upper joint of his index finger. 

 

“Anthon isn’t talking to me.” Childe explains his own voice sounds a bit distant. “He’s very passionate and his moral boundaries are without match.” 

 

“There can be disagreements and still care through it.” Zhongli intones. “Perhaps his passion is what separates you but his anger shows that he still has hopes and knows that you're capable of a great many things you fail to pursue.” 

 

“Maybe.” Said glumly, Childe leans back and almost immediately after that action the waiter is there as if he has been waiting. A platter with a large bowl and two smaller bowls. 

 

“Your abalone and Sea cucumber sirs.” He sets the bowl down and the bowls in front of each of them. “Please enjoy, is there anything else you would like?” 

 

“We aren’t planning eight servings if that is what you are questioning.” 

 

“Of course” 

 

“This will be fine.” Zhongli interrupts carefully. “Thank you.” 

 

“Of course.” The waiter repeats again, departing, Zhongli takes the wide serving spoon and offers a gloved hand out for Childe’s bowl, Childe hands it over and Zhongli gently fills it, passing it back. It smells mild and a bit like seafood, Childe is aware Zhongli is no fan of seafood so the particular choice seems strange. 

 

“Are you going to eat this?” Childe asks without preamble and Zhongli picks out vegetables to eat deftly avoiding the sea food. 

 

“I am sorry your relationship with Anthon isn’t what it could be but don’t confuse anger with apathy.” 

 

“Zhongli!” Childe protests. “I don’t care to discuss it any longer- please- can you just-“ 

 

“My apologies.” Zhongli inspects the mushroom he has in his bowl. “Did you know certain proliferate creatures like this have hallucinogenic properties?” 

 

“The mushroom?” 

 

“Certain branches affect human beings in a very interesting way.” 

 

“By causing hallucinogens?” 

 

“Correct.” 

 

“Don’t let Scaramouche get his hands on that.” Childe amuses himself with the thought, the small man already experimented with all methods of airborne toxins, knowing him if Childe pointed out  hallucinogens that so easily passed as food Childe would be affected directly by his machinations. “Have you ever had one?” 

 

“Mm.” Zhongli doesn't answer, which is essentially an answer in on itself. He swallows the mushroom and Childe turns to his bowl shaking his head slightly, the abalone isn’t terribly fishy it may even be something Zhongli could bring himself to like, it’s expertly cooked and Childe finds himself warmed by it, the sea cucumber has an odd texture but it’s interesting, nothing Childe would try anywhere else most likely. 

 

“What did you mean by this is a traditional meal for this setting?” Childe questions after he has finished his bowl, the mushrooms aren’t the hallucinogenic kind and Childe is a bit disappointed, they do add a nice texture. 

 

“Are you finished with your meal?” Childe wants to say no, to not have their evening end. 

 

“No.” He says and scoops some more although he is getting a bit full. 

 

They fill a bit more time with eating and idle conversation, nothing quite as impactful as Childe’s family in fact their shallow topics might be more so because Childe wants to avoid anything heavy but as the night goes on the conversations become more strained because neither of them are made for such light topics and Childe knows he is merely trying to hide away from the fact that he is leaving Liyue after this- leaving the city the man in front of him loves possibly in ruins, and although he knows it to be his duty he cannot restrain the guilt he feels. He almost wishes he could apologize. 

 

When they finish the soup the waiter brings shoutao, the delicate buns painted delicate roesy colors— a food neither man had requested yet the willowy waiter has eyes only on Zhongli when he answers their questions as to why he is delivering them this dessert that neither asked for.

 

“It is on the house.” He says generously. “May it grant you longevity.” And for a moment in the dim dining light, Zhongli is no longer leaning close but leaning back and his face twists with shadows into something displeased like someone has granted him a nasty reminder as opposed to free dessert. 

 

“Thank you.” Childe says because for once Zhongli has forgotten his manners. “I can pay however It is no—“ 

 

“No.” The waiter interrupts and the two delicate peach buns seem to symbolize anything but longevity “please enjoy.” Is said firmly and he is yet again leaving Zhongli and Childe. 

 

“Have them both.” Zhongli somewhat demands if his tone where any more drilling Childe would mistake it for a demand most certainly. “I am satiated.” 

 

They are small buns so Childe can certainly eat them easily. He does. They aren’t anything special, not like the lychee dessert, but they aren’t bad either, they’re delicate and breakable and he crushes the little seeds between his teeth. 

 

Childe lays down the money where the waiter has left the bill beneath the platter that had held the shoutao and the two men stand. The room is red and dim, they leave the warmth of the restaurant to where the cool evening nips quietly at them. Impatient. 

 

They stand across from each other and Childe’s heart twists in such a painful agonizing way he’s sure that walking away will be something he remembers too often. Zhongli’s eyes are small lantern lights in the dim outside. 

 

“I wish you safe travels.” Zhongli is stilted like he does not wish Childe much of anything (Like he wishes Childe could stay but perhaps that last detail is truly what Childe is projecting onto the stoney man) 

 

“I wish you good health and longevity.” Childe retorts he notices it’s something many Liyue people say to each other, the well wishes fall short however, Zhongli looking slightly more dour. Perhaps he truly does dislike talks of death. 

 

When Zhongli doesn’t answer Childe nods a bit as if acknowledging the nothing as something taking half a step away and preparing to leave while he still has the spine to. Zhongli does nothing and Childe tries to keep the hurt from crowding him, Zhongli must be something awful at farewells, not that Childe is anything better. “Well. Bye.” Childe whispers voice rough eyes downturned and he’s turning away knowing if he looks at Zhongli all the power he has consolidated, all of his planning— means nothing. 

 

“Childe.” Zhongli calls before Childe can actually move away, Childe knows it is rude not to turn around and acknowledge when someone is speaking to you but he can’t allow himself to surrender the power- his duty- to the Tsaritsa by doing so. “Know that you are cared for, and your presence here will be missed.” There is a finality to those words, a farewell but Childe can’t stop the warmth that spreads to his eyes like a storm bringing nothing but the itchy wet feeling of utter pain. 

 

Childe’s fingers curl with the effort not to turn around, he pulls at the sleeve of his shirt in one last effort to not tell the man everything- to not tell him to flee and what he was going to do to Liyue because he still needs to go through with his plan with his duty — 

 

Bold across his forearm: ‘I love you.’ A dark thick lie, twisted like the darkest ink, mapped across a page with such finality. If he is cared for why does Childe’s soul whisper that he is loveless that both portions of his being- himself and his soulmate cannot find it in their beings to love him, and if he cannot be loved perhaps care is something more feeble. 

 

“Goodbye.” He whispers again, knowing it will get carried away. And he walks quickly until the presence of Zhongli fades away and he is sure he will not see the man again- after all Childe can’t stay in Liyue not if Osial is to destroy it. 

 

He does not know that leaving was far from the hardest things he will do- he does not know that the pain of leaving Zhongli is nothing in comparison to seeing him again, to hearing that the man's words were lies. 

 

Knowing that perhaps Childe had cherished an illusion, a facade, knowing that he was played, by even the archons— after all the words stamped across his arm was already a twisted archons-damned joke, why should he also not be their plaything, whose emotions they can twist and toy with. 

 

‘I love you’ is the lie and in the immortal realms of celestia or those who walk the land are starved for entertainment, — is it not hilarity to find such a lost soul and take gentle gloved hands drenched with the saltwater from the Liyue harbor and rub it into the burns and bruises spread like a map across the mortals body? Is it not entertainment? 

 

Everyone knows legends are only interesting if there is at first: suffering. 

Notes:

1) Title is from the Evening Star by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, according to the poet, stars light a bright torch of love, so the poem is centered around finding ones way in the dark via light from love, something that will occur in this fic one way or another. Hesperus is connected to Venus- the greco-Roman love goddess and the planet.

2) Chapter title is the first line of the Evening star poem.

3) I got this idea from seeing ‘first words are the soul-mark’ and thought ‘what if I made it inherently worse’ (I promise there IS a happy ending genuinely, no ambiguity whatsoever)

4) The tea at the first place is made from Lemongrass! It IS acidic but not actually that sour

5) What Zhongli finds hilarious in the dinner place is it’s typically a wedding celebrations settlement; the eight courses is typical of a Chinese wedding banquet and what Zhongli orders (To exacerbate the situation) is a traditional wedding food because the Mandarin word for abalone sounds like the word for abundance, and the Cantonese word for sea cucumber sounds like the word for good heart. Serving these foods represents wishes for the couple to have abundant good feelings. Typical wedding tea (There is a tea ceremony) traditionally is Lotus or longan, however oftentimes it will also be green tea.

6) Shoutao is Peach steamed buns, a traditional ending dessert. Shòu means longevity and táo means peach. The peach is oftentimes a representation of longevity and health. Something that Zhongli did not want a reminder of because he is spending time with his very mortal love interest excuse me!?

7) Further explanation on hallucinogenic mushrooms shall occur in later chapters.

8) This chapter is a bit dry it is plot building allow me to reassure you that the rest of the story will have a bit more gusto

9) I hope you enjoyed! Much care, please take care of yourself! 💙