Chapter Text
Childe knew better than to question the Tsaritsa. No matter how extravagant, obtuse, or utterly impossible her commands might be, any true-blooded Snezhnayan scrambled to obey. He was no different. Childe believed in her divine mandate to rule as fervently as anyone else. He had risked his life in her name and spilled ample blood for her holy glory.
Those who liked him called him her Vanguard, while his enemies said he was her rabid guard dog. Neither of those titles mattered to him—he served at her feet, as was his place and his destiny.
But he was no longer in the hallowed halls of Zapolyarny Palace. Here in Liyue, where a different god ruled with his own unyielding will of stone, her command did not seem so unquestionably supreme.
Childe shook his head as though he could dispel the treasonous thoughts. Lying on the bed before him were ornate clothes in vivid red, a repeating phoenix design in gold embroidery glinting under the warm light.
“I hope they are to your liking.” Morax’s slightly harried secretary smiled uncertainly at him. She’d been the one to take him to his lodgings when he landed and guide him through the many pre-wedding contracts to be signed. “Lord Rex Lapis insists on honoring tradition in all things, least of all his own wedding.”
Childe shrugged. “Looks fine to me. I don’t know how to put them on, though.”
“I can help you,” Ganyu said. “But we’d better get started. The festivities will begin soon.”
Childe said a silent prayer to the Tsaritsa, asking for patience and fortitude, and then turned to the oddly complicated task of getting dressed for his wedding.
Childe had not expected to marry a dragon.
To be fair, he’d known that Morax was a dragon. Everyone knew that, and he’d done a bit of research on his husband-to-be before leaving Snezhnaya. But he hadn’t really thought it through until he was standing there in his brilliant red wedding clothes, face to face with a serpentine creature with brown scales and a curly bunch of orange fluff at the end of his tail.
He wondered how a wedding night was supposed to work when the newlyweds were different species. But it probably wouldn’t come to that—theirs was a political marriage, and there was no particular need to seal the matter by fucking.
The entire ceremony was conducted in Liyuen, which meant Childe understood less than half of what was said. His grasp of Liyuen was decent, but the officiator used a lot of archaic, old-fashioned terms he wasn’t familiar with.
So Childe went through the gestures whenever they seemed appropriate, and otherwise occupied himself with watching the vast crowd. He tried to pick out the adepti, but Yujing Terrace was so packed with people that it was impossible to spot much of anything in all the chaos.
Morax must have told Ganyu to feed the enormous crowd of followers that turned out to see his wedding, so the food was plentiful and cheap. But someone had specifically cooked a few Snezhnayan specialties for the table where Childe sat with Morax, the dragon’s long body curled up on a cushion and his head resting on a platform beside his new husband.
“I hope this is to your liking,” he said. His voice was low and resonant, rumbling through Childe’s bones. “I asked a young and enterprising chef to cook a few dishes that might be more familiar to you.”
“It’s great,” Childe said, poking at the oddly congealed bowl of borscht. “Is this made with slime condensate or something?”
“Xiangling is innovative,” Morax said. “I appreciate her initiative in trying new things. But if you don’t like it, I will have something else brought to you.”
“It’s fine. Thank you.”
“It is my pleasure. I know this is perhaps not how you envisioned your wedding, but tradition is important to the people of Liyue. My role is to be the model they can build upon.”
“I’ll be honest. I never saw myself getting married at all. So, nothing to worry about.” Childe flashed him a charming smile. “I would never have ended up with anything half as fancy.”
The dragon studied him, his gold eyes glowing brightly for a moment. Childe felt like he had been seen, down to his very soul. It wasn’t a comforting thought.
“Dottore can engineer such clever poisons,” the Tsaritsa said, as Childe knelt at the base of her dais and concentrated on the reflection of her white gown in the polished marble floor. “Swallow a draught of his most recent batch and you’d never know anything is amiss. The poison infiltrates the body and then it merely waits. The victim feels perfectly fine until the moment it’s activated.”
Childe said nothing. This was not a dialogue—he was there to receive orders from his god. She did not sully herself through conversation with mortals.
“You are to be that poison,” she said. “Morax in all his folly will welcome you into Liyue. Make your home there, my Eleventh. Lie in wait until the moment when I call on you to strike.”
Holding his breath, Childe lifted his gaze from the floor to look upon her face. Her features were petite and doll-like, made uncanny by her white eyes—blind yet all-seeing.
“It will be done, Your Majesty,” he said.
Childe followed Ganyu past the central room of the Golden House, piles of mora like a gleaming golden lake beneath the balcony railing beside them. He wondered if Morax slept on those mounds of coin like a dragon in a storybook, opening one heavily lidded eye to assess intruders come to steal his treasure.
“His— ah, I mean your quarters are back here,” Ganyu said, leading Childe through a large arched doorway into an opulent sitting room, silk screens artfully partitioning the displays of priceless looking artifacts and brocade settees embroidered in rich, vibrant colors.
Ganyu gave him a ring of keys—one for the side entrance to the Golden House, one for the room they were in, and one for the bedchamber down the hall. She explained that she had already moved Childe’s things into the new space, his travel trunks waiting for him in the bedroom. Childe wondered if he was meant to share the space with the dragon. The size of the arched doorways made him think he probably was.
“Congratulations, Mr. Tartaglia,” she said, bowing deeply. “Please treat our lord with the reverence and kindness that he deserves.”
“I will,” Childe promised, thinking again of his mission. “Don’t you worry. I’m excellent husband material.”
Ganyu did not look reassured, but a soft chuckle from behind her drew Childe’s attention as a tall, graceful figure strode into the warmly lit chamber.
He was not beautiful in the way that a young man or woman with symmetrical features and bright, lovely eyes is beautiful. No, the man that walked into the chamber had an appearance that was unnatural in its allure, the beauty of a marble sculpture or a courtesan painted onto silk. His eyes glowed golden, and his expression was impassive save for the gentleness to the turn of his mouth.
“Thank you, Ganyu,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “That will be all for tonight.”
“As you say.” Ganyu bowed and left quickly, a slight blush on her features.
“My name is Zhongli,” the stranger said, giving Childe a slight bow. “I am to be your attendant and companion.”
“Companion?”
“Yes. I will serve as your guide as you acclimate to Liyue, as well as attending to your needs and introducing you to the traditions and rituals you must participate in as his mate.”
Liyue must be wealthy indeed, to have someone attend to such unnecessary tasks. In Snezhnaya, they’d be left to fend for themselves. The eternal winter had made of its people hardened pragmatists, but perhaps in this warm country, everyone was gentler, more indulgent.
“Tonight I will help prepare you for the next part of the wedding ceremony,” Zhongli said, stepping forward. “But first, perhaps a drink? It will help you relax.”
Childe eyed him suspiciously. “Why? What happens next?”
“You will consummate the marriage.” Zhongli’s face was impassive, unreadable. Childe stared at him, wide eyed with shock.
“What?”
“Morax will take you, thus sealing your vows.”
“I…” Childe opened his mouth, then closed it again, pushed an agitated hand through his hair. “I’m supposed to let a dragon fuck me?”
“You are well within your rights to refuse,” Zhongli said. “However, doing so will annul the marriage contract. This is a tradition that dates back to before the founding of Liyue, and cannot be broken.”
Childe drew in a soft breath as the reality of it sunk in. If he didn’t fuck Morax, he’d fail his mission. He’d be sent back to Snezhnaya in disgrace, and the Tsaritsa would cast him aside.
“How… how does that even work?”
“I will prepare you,” Zhongli said casually, as though this was something he did every day. “I will ensure your body can handle the process.”
“This is so fucking weird,” Childe said, so tense with nerves and an uncomfortable sense of dread that he wished he’d accepted Zhongli’s offer of a drink first.
“I realize it may seem that way to an outsider.” If Zhongli was insulted by Childe’s comment on Liyue’s ancient traditions, he didn’t give any indication. “I would apologize for startling you with this information, but had you read the marriage contract beforehand, you would not be so surprised.”
Childe swallowed hard, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Whatever. Let’s just get it over with.”
Zhongli led him to a bedroom nearly the size of a ballroom. In one corner, steam rose from an enormous tiled bath, large enough for Morax to submerge himself in. And in the center, an oval indentation in the floor cushioned with a large pile of pillows indicated where the dragon himself must sleep. So not on a huge pile of mora , Childe thought to himself, and held back a hysterical laugh.
“I hope this space is to your liking,” Zhongli said. “There is another bedroom down the hall with a regular bed, should you prefer that.”
He stepped close and Childe drew in a short breath, but all he did was begin to unlace and unbutton the fancy clothes Childe was wearing. This close, it was impossible not to notice how handsome he was, features that looked as though they’d been sculpted from stone and eyes with the golden shine of a freshly minted mora coin. In fact, his eyes and the elegant turn of his mouth reminded Childe of a Liyuen woman he’d met the year before while traveling through Snezhnaya’s southern province. Ling had enchanted and entranced Childe, but had not lingered, slipping away before dawn.
Maybe golden eyes and elegant smiles were common traits here.
“Do you do this for all of Morax’s lovers?” Childe asked, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable in just his undershirt and shorts.
“Morax has not taken a mate in a thousand years,” Zhongli replied, his fingers skimming over the skin of Childe’s stomach and chest as he lifted Childe’s shirt over his head. The gentle touch, though purely utilitarian, lit tingling trails on Childe’s body.
He resisted the urge to cover himself when Zhongli removed the last article of clothing and stepped back to let his gaze roam, assessing Childe’s worthiness to be Morax’s lover, perhaps.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, speaking under his breath as though the word was not meant as praise for Childe, but rather something he couldn’t stop himself from saying. The soft awe in his voice gave Childe a little more confidence.
“Good enough for Morax?” he asked, with a cocky smile.
Zhongli merely nodded. Childe was disappointed to see he’d mostly regained his composure.
“Now, we should get started. Lie down on his bed. On your stomach would be easiest.”
Childe gave him an uneasy look. “I don’t like having my back exposed.”
Zhongli’s eyes widened slightly. “On your back, then,” he said, not ungently.
Childe climbed awkwardly into the hollow and reclined on the large, soft mat at the base, his head propped on a silken cushion embroidered in shades of brown and gold.
Just lie back and think of the Tsaritsa.
It would probably be less humiliating and awful than some of the things that he’d endured in Dottore’s lab as the good Doctor and his associates tried to figure out how the Abyss had twisted Childe’s body and mind.
“You’re tense,” Zhongli said, kneeling between Childe’s legs with a glass vial. He pressed his fingers gently to the inside of Childe’s knee, and Childe flinched away. “This must seem so strange to you.”
“How would you feel, if someone told you that you had to fuck the Tsaritsa?” Childe shot back. “This is just… I don’t even have a word for how bizarre this is.”
“I understand.” Zhongli set the vial aside and sat cross legged beside Childe on the mat, not touching but a steadying presence nevertheless. “In the days of the Archon Wars, alliances were fraught with treachery and danger as the gods vied for the seat of Geo. Morax’s first bride was a beautiful adeptus who revered the god of salt.”
Zhongli’s voice was soothing, and Childe began to relax, leaning into the softness of Morax’s nest while Zhongli wove the story of the relationship between Morax and this young adeptus, their ornate courtship and eventual marriage. Zhongli told the tale vividly and well, as though he had been there and witnessed it all with his own eyes.
“But on their wedding night, Morax was called away to battle, and in his absence his bride sowed his people’s land with salt. He came back to miles of barren earth, crops that had withered and died, white crystals lining the edges of a river filled with dead fish. For you see, the adeptus had been sent to avenge the god of salt, who she believed Morax had killed.”
“Huh.” Childe stared up at the ceiling, unnerved. The parallels to his own situation were a little uncomfortable to consider. “But what does that have to do with sex?”
“As with most traditions, there are a number of threads that have been woven together over a great deal of time. One obvious reason is that it shows commitment and compatibility. A bride who would give themselves to Morax demonstrates their loyalty and affection. As Morax is the Geo Archon and a god of stone and soil, coupling also ties his spouse to the land of Liyue, which is especially important as you are a foreigner. The ritual will also create a bond between you, so that you can trust each other.”
Zhongli got up and returned to his position kneeling over Childe. This time, when he gently nudged Childe’s thighs apart, Childe let him.
“I wish that it were otherwise,” he said, and the genuine regret on his face made Childe think he really meant it. “Your first time together is something to savor. But internal machinations have developed to challenge the legitimacy of your union. It is important that this be done tonight.”
Childe took a deep breath. “Okay,” he said. “I’m ready.”
Zhongli smiled at him, and although it wasn’t a wide or flashy smile, it was dazzling nevertheless. He set the bottle of oil aside, but didn’t start right away. Instead he leaned over Childe, brushing his fingers over Childe’s cheekbone and then trailing them over his chest.
“You are magnificent,” he murmured, running his fingernails lightly down Childe’s thigh, then leaning to press a kiss to the inside of his knee. Despite himself, Childe’s body responded to the attention, his skin flushing and sensitive. This was not the dispassionate, clinical preparation he thought he’d receive.
“Won’t Morax be jealous if you touch me like that?” he asked.
Zhongli laughed. Not the quiet, distinguished chuckle that Childe had heard earlier, but a full throated expression of mirth. He shook his head and grinned at Childe, eyes bright.
“No,” he said. “I can assure you Morax will not be bothered if I take the time to enjoy you.”
Childe didn’t get the joke, but he liked seeing Zhongli relax a little.
“However if it makes you uncomfortable, I can refrain,” Zhongli added quickly, pulling back.
“No,” Childe said, reaching for Zhongli’s wrist and tugging him closer. “It’s nice. You remind me of someone.”
“Do I?” Zhongli seemed pleased, leaning in close. “Well then, just lay back and think of her.”
Childe wanted to ask how Zhongli had known it was a “her”—Ling with her golden eyes and low, seductive voice—but then Zhongli ran his tongue over the shell of Childe’s ear and began to trail wet kisses down his neck. Childe let out a soft gasp, his hand coming up to tangle in Zhongli’s silky hair without thinking about it.
He couldn’t help it. He felt a connection to Zhongli, like they’d met before, although he would certainly not forget it if they had. Zhongli’s very presence was as stable and steadying as a pillar of stone. Childe leaned into this embrace, and tried not to think about the one to come.
Zhongli took his time, exploring Childe’s body with lingering caresses that made Childe think he felt the same call, the same resonance between them.
“Okay, this is so unfair,” Childe said, sitting up to reach the buttons on Zhongli’s shirt. “If I’m going to be naked, you have to at least take this off.”
Zhongli acquiesced, revealing a physique that could have been chiseled from stone. But when Childe’s hands reached for the buckle of his belt, he caught them gently.
“I fear for my self control,” he said with an apologetic smile. “You are altogether too alluring.”
“Yeah?” Childe propped himself up on his elbows, grinning. His cock was half-hard from Zhongli’s meticulous attentions, flushed against his stomach. “You like what you see?”
“I do.” Zhongli slicked his finger and pressed it gently against Childe’s hole, stretching him with just the very tip. “You must tell me if you want me to slow down or stop.”
Childe nodded, apprehension in his throat. “It’s just that I… I’ve never done it this way before.”
Zhongli blinked at him, then swallowed hard. “I see.”
Slowly, his finger pressed inside. The sensation was strange, intrusive, but Childe willed himself to relax and let it happen. It helped that Zhongli was watching him raptly, golden eyes wide with desire and an impressive bulge in his slacks.
“You’re so tight,” Zhongli murmured, carefully fucking him with just a single finger. “How truly lovely you are, my darling.”
It was a little strange, to lie back like this and let Zhongli do what he would. Usually Childe was the one to take the lead, aggressive and passionate just as people expected from a Harbinger. But it had been like this with Ling too. She had pinned him to the bed with surprising strength, then had her way with him.
With Zhongli’s slow, careful pace, Childe barely felt any discomfort as a second finger pushed inside him, stretching him further. Then Zhongli curled his fingers just so, and blinding pleasure shot through him. He arched his back with a low groan, bucking against Zhongli’s hand.
Zhongli looked pleased, his eyes dark with lust, and repeated the motion several times. Somewhere in there, he’d added a third finger, but Childe had been too delirious with pleasure to take much notice.
Then he paused, spreading his fingers inside Childe so that the stretch and the pressure—which had seemed so weird at first but now seemed wildly arousing—threatened to overwhelm him.
“This is the part that may be difficult,” he said, and Childe felt a fourth finger nudge against his hole, and then push ruthlessly inside. “You must tell me if you wish me to stop.”
“I can take it,” Childe said, high on endorphins and cocky as ever. “Do your worst, Zhongli.”
Zhongli’s smile was devious and devastatingly attractive. “Very well.”
The stretch was intense, overwhelming, as Zhongli slowly worked four fingers in and out of Childe’s hole. Childe had never felt so full, and yet after a moment he felt more of Zhongli’s hand pressing up against his already stretched rim.
It was almost too much. But Childe had always loved testing the limits of his body, finding that exhilarating place where he could push beyond what should be possible. As Zhongli’s thumb pressed past his rim, his whole fucking hand filling Childe until he was utterly wrecked, he felt like he was flying, drunk on the pleasure-pain and desperate to come. He clenched around Zhongli’s fist and Zhongli groaned softly, his eyes on the place where Childe’s hole was struggling to close around his wrist.
“You are magnificent,” Zhongli murmured, his free hand coming up to stroke Childe’s cock while his fist rocked gently back and forth inside Childe, lighting him up with unbearable pleasure.
“Please,” Childe babbled, barely aware of what he was saying. He didn’t know what he was begging for, only that he needed more—more of Zhongli’s tender gaze and ruthless hands, more than just fingers inside him.
“Anything for you, darling,” Zhongli murmured, then flexed his wrist just so and Childe was coming all over his stomach, back arching as he tried to fuck himself harder on Zhongli’s hand. The waves of pleasure lasted and lasted until he finally managed to open his eyes. Zhongli was watching him, spellbound. Then he leaned forward and licked up the stripes of white on Childe’s abdomen, and Childe groaned softly, clenching lightly around Zhongli’s hand even through the oversensitivity.
Zhongli carefully eased his hand out of Childe’s hole, moving gently while his other hand stroked the inside of Childe’s thigh.
“Wish you could fuck me,” Childe murmured, still half drunk with pleasure.
“Not today, I’m afraid.” Zhongli pressed a soft kiss to his lips and Childe blinked at him, surprised at the intimacy. “I believe you’re ready. I’ll fetch Morax.”