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There are bodies everywhere.
It’s the first thing Ajax sees when he steps off of the ship, his feet barely touching down onto Natlani soil before he’s sprinting for the Stadium of the Sacred Flame as his chest aches and his lungs burn. The bodies stare up at him from the ground, not retrieved yet after the fighting had ended and lying amidst pools of blood and plumes of smoke.
Ajax barely spares a glance for them. Not even fallen Fatui comrades manage to slow his stride, bodies in familiar uniforms staring up at him from the ground. He should stop, really, he knows. He should do what his station commands—find the Captain, find whatever’s left of the garrisons out here and assist wherever he can.
But he isn’t Tartaglia today. He isn’t the Harbinger, isn’t the warrior, the man who loves fighting more than anything else.
Today, he’s Ajax, sprinting across the plains like his life depends on it, ignoring the pain coursing through every inch of his body as he tests injuries that haven’t fully recovered yet. He’s just a boy with tunnel vision, determined and desperate.
Natlan has been overrun, the Captain’s message had said. Abyssal contamination is at its peak. Outcome unknown. Fatui operatives and Traveler providing assistance.
Traveler’s last known whereabouts: South Battlefield. Wounded. Status Unknown.
There was more to the Captain’s message, probably. Maybe. Ajax doesn’t know, doesn’t really care. Everything became a blur after those words, the only thought in his head get to her over and over again.
The pain in his chest reaches a fever pitch. So do the aches in his arms and legs, but Ajax ignores them. He can see the Stadium looming in the distance, and on a different day, he might be marveling at its craftsmanship or beauty. But even though energy swirls inside his body, still tainted from the length of time spent fighting the Narwhal, he doesn’t slow down until he physically feels his body wilting .
Wounded. Status Unknown.
He should have realized that something was wrong when he didn’t hear from Lumine soon after she arrived in Natlan. They’ve been corresponding so much more often since he was wounded, and despite the fear spreading like icy cold through his body, his cheeks burn when he remembers her visit to Snezhnaya.
She really wanted to see him, she said. He left too quickly after his brief jaunt back to Fontaine.
They’d shared his bed that night. Not in the way he wanted, since she was adamant about not testing his wounds, but he got to sleep with her held tightly against his body. It was the best night’s sleep he’d ever had.
Now, all he can see is Lumine with a hole ripped through her, blood soaking her dress like something out of his worst nightmare.
He runs faster.
The scenery blurs, and despite knowing that he shouldn’t , Ajax taps into his Delusion a bit to keep himself standing. He has to find her . And if something’s happened to her, then Natlan’s Archon will have to fight a second Harbinger before the week is out.
Eventually, Ajax stumbles, falling to his knees. Sweat pours down his back as his legs nearly give out beneath him. The Stadium is still so far away, but the moment he tries to get up again he feels a pain so sharp that it nearly sends him sprawling to the ground again.
That fucking whale . This is the longest recovery he’s had since he fell into the Abyss.
Somewhere above him, a voice is speaking. He blinks away the blurry vision, trying to focus for long enough to hear it.
“--ia. Tartaglia, sir! Can you hear me?”
It’s a Fatui soldier, one hand on Ajax’s shoulder trying very hard to keep him steady. Ajax sends a silent prayer of thanks to the Captain for keeping his garrisons spread out over Natlan.
He groans in pain, fumbling with one hand until he grabs hold of the man’s shirt in one hand. “Where is she,” he chokes out, voice coming out desperate and shaky instead of the hard and venomous tone he usually uses with Fatui troops.
“Who—”
“Where? Lu—The Traveler. Where ?”
Understanding dawns across the man’s face. Ajax has never officially confirmed anything to his colleagues, but he knows how rumors spread among soldiers.
The man helps him stand up straight, hoisting him onto his feet and motioning somewhere to his left for someone to do… something. Ajax is woozy from pain and exhaustion, so he doesn’t quite catch it. “She’s at the Stadium,” the man says softly, walking both of them forward. Dimly, Ajax can see what looks like a cart in front of him, and a moment later he’s being loaded onto it.
How about that. The Eleventh Harbinger, being carted off in broad daylight.
“We can get you there,” the man says softly, checking his body over for visible wounds. There won’t be any, unless Ajax pulled his last set of stitches again , but it’s nice that he does anyway. “We haven’t heard any new reports, so we have no idea what her status is. The Captain is at the Stadium with the Pyro Archon, so he’ll be able to tell you more.”
Fear still pulses hot and heavy in Ajax’s chest. But exhaustion takes over swiftly, now that he’s no longer in an adrenaline-fueled sprint, and his eyes slide shut before he can say anything more.
A hazy mix of red and white dances behind his eyes, worry settling deep in the pit of his stomach as he passes out to the movement of the cart on the road.
—--
He wakes up to the sight of the Stadium of the Sacred Flame looming above him.
It looks more imposing up close, and he can feel the heat from the Sacred Flame burning even from here.
But he doesn’t care about that. The fear comes surging back as soon as he wakes, and even though his muscles ache from a combination of old injuries and new, he stumbles out of his makeshift ride on shaky legs.
He walks through the city in a daze, only stopping for long enough to grab a startled passerby and ask her for directions to the Archon’s chamber. If anyone knows where Lumine would be, it’ll be her.
He winds up in front of the Speaker’s Chamber, exhaustion kicking in once more and making his lashes flutter. He really overdid it this time it seems, but the fear keeps him on his feet before it can get the better of him. He has to know, he has to—
“Tartaglia.”
“Captain,” Ajax gasps out, as the Captain steps in front of him, blocking his view of the door. Archons , he’s probably going to want some fucking report, he probably thinks he’s here with a message from Her Majesty, but all he wants is—
“Her Majesty didn’t mention sending any assistance, and I didn’t request any. What are you—”
“Fucking— Move, Captain,” he chokes out, unable to stand the interruption any longer. He really shouldn’t mouth off to him like that, and there might be hell to pay later, but he doesn’t care. He tries to shove past the Captain and approach the door, only for the man to grab Ajax’s shoulders and look at him through that impassive mask of his.
“Were you on the battlefield? You shouldn’t have come, you were already injured—”
Gods, the tedium is not helping his anxiety. He’s a shaky mess, but all he can do is shake his head and stubbornly try to break free of the Captain’s grip. Ajax knows that he’s just trying to help, but he can explain everything after , can’t he? “I need to—”
“Childe?”
He freezes, his head whipping around so fast that it makes him dizzy. Instantly, every atom in his body settles, the unsteady feeling running through him relaxing a little.
The Pyro Archon watches the exchange curiously, a small smile on her lips. And next to her, covered in bandages, her brow furrowing in confusion, is…
“ Lumine, ” he breathes out on a shaky exhale, shaking free of the Captain’s grip and rushing towards her as pure relief floods his body like the warmth of elemental energy.
He sweeps her up in his arms, pressing his face into her hair as she lets out a tiny squeak of surprise. Her heart beats steady against his chest, loud and soothing and alive .
“ Gods, you’re not dead,” Ajax says, his voice breaking. “You’re not dead.”
Behind them, Ajax hears the Captain cough nervously. “Ah,” he says awkwardly. “I see.”
Another low chuckle. “C’mon,” a new voice says, and dimly, he realizes that must be the Pyro Archon laughing at them. “Let’s… give them some space.”
Ajax tunes them out, only able to focus on the way Lumine sags in his embrace. Her arms come up to wrap around his back, gripping tightly onto his jacket. She grips him so tightly that it hurts, but he doesn’t care; he can feel her shaking a little, and he doesn’t know if it’s from physical or mental pain.
“Ajax,” she whispers, and he can hear the slight tremble in her voice.
He pulls back, taking her face between his hands. Her skin feels warm underneath his own, as Lumine rests one hand against his pounding heart. “I thought…” He swallows thickly, subtly scanning her body for injuries. There’s a bruise on her forehead that looks nasty, but the bandages are thick, and they don’t give away any other wounds on her body. “They said you were—I heard you were wounded and no one told us what happened to you.” The words come out all in a rush, choked up and full of the fear that had consumed his every thought during the trip from Snezhnaya. “I thought you were dead.”
“I’m alright,” she whispers back, as he leans forward to press their foreheads together. She winces a little, but doesn’t pull away, gripping his back tighter and pulling him closer. Her pulse is racing almost as quickly as his own. “Things are stable again. It's all okay—I’m sorry I couldn’t get a message to you. Everything happened so fast, I—”
He leans in then, adrenaline and relief forming a dangerous cocktail inside his chest. The need to be as close to her as possible is all-consuming suddenly, and he tilts her face up to steal the words from her with his lips.
The kiss is raw, messy, needy, Ajax sighing against her mouth and trying to pour every ounce of holy fuck, you’re alive, you’re really alive, I thought I’d never see you again, I thought I’d never get to tell you what you really mean to me that threatens to burst from where it’s locked away. She meets him eagerly, earnestly, and fuck, he doesn’t care that they’re doing this where anyone can see because the only thought in his head is the way she lets out a tiny moan and pulls him closer still.
When he pulls away, his eyes are watery, and his smile is shaky. Lumine frowns at him, brow furrowing as her hands rub his chest. “You’re still wounded,” she says, a little breathy from the kiss. “You shouldn’t have come here while you’re still recovering. Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” He lets out a breathy laugh, arms winding around her waist to pull her flush against him again. “You’re the one covered in bandages.”
“Your heart is beating so fast,” she whispers, resting a hand atop his heart again.
“Don’t worry about me.” He leans in once more, brushing their noses together before stealing another kiss from her lips. She doesn’t complain, humming in contentment as she kisses him back slowly, lazily. He really should stop this and sit down, probably, before he passes out, but he wouldn’t give this up for the world.
She sounds happy, and it eases the image of her bloody body from his thoughts.
“What’s the damage?” he says when they break apart from each other again. Lumine frowns, leaning up to chase his mouth again in a motion that sends a pang of longing ripping through his chest.
“Nothing too bad.” She frowns a little as Ajax pulls back, instead reaching to take one of her bandaged hand in his own. “I’m serious, Ajax. I’m okay.”
He swallows thickly, emotion building again as he drags his fingertips across the bandages. He doesn’t miss the way she winces; it’s definitely worse than she’s saying. “Let me see? Let me help?”
“I—”
“Please,” he says, suddenly desperate again. “Please, I—I want to—” I want to make sure you’re okay. “Just let me do this.”
She must see something written on his face, because her own expression softens as she smiles a little. She twines their joined hands together, bringing the back of his hand to her lips. “Only if you promise me you’ll rest. And let me return the favor.”
His grin gets wider, the relief still burning through him like lava. “Alright,” he says, letting out a breathy laugh. “Alright. I promise.”
The Sacred Flame burns high above them, and the rest of the situation in Natlan is a horrible mess still waiting to be sorted out. But that’s a problem for Tartaglia, when Lumine’s wounds have healed, and his own recovery is complete.
For now, Ajax holds the girl he loves in a warm embrace, sending a silent prayer of thanks to any deity that might be listening that the Abyss hasn’t taken her from him.
He’s always loved a fight, a war, finding that it ignited his passion like nothing else ever had.
…Until now, that is.
There’s nothing else that would make him sprint through half a continent, after all.