[ the truth of war is this: it is the only way to peace.
the horrors it brings, the shock and pain of loss, the unbearable weight of grief and sacrifice, lovers torn asunder by its unstoppable force. to yield is to be swallowed whole; there is no mercy in surrender. zhongli understands this better than anyone else; havria's death a warning to the warring princes and their kingdoms. while zhongli doesn't seek dominion over all, he carves the road to peace with a relentless ruthlessness, and soon enough his reputation precedes him, soaked in blood and death. Kingdom after kingdom falls, folded under liyue's banner, which grows ever more prosperous and powerful.
but there is one particular kingdom that captures his attention. its monarch had only just died (most unfortunately, slain by zhongli in combat), leaving behind its golden-eyed prince and princess, known throughout the seven great kingdoms for their stunning beauty, and unfathomable powers. the princess was rumoured to have disappeared a few years ago, and it seems prince aether is the only one left of his illustrious dynasty. it's unfortunate, but aether's kingdom is the heart of the world, the key to the end of the war, and a crucial trade route that will unlock riches untold, propelling the world into a new age of progress. peace, it seems, can be bought for a high enough price, and zhongli intends to command order through one last conquest. ]
His life is forfeit, according to the rules of combat.
[ the warlord says finally, blood spattered on the pure white of his robes, the gleaming gold of his dangerously sharp spear dissipating as he sheathes it. zhongli regards the prince with glowing amber eyes, calm and assessing. the body of the dead king is treated with care, and zhongli's calm voice cuts through the clamor. ]
As is your kingdom.
[ he steps towards him, taking in the sight of this lovely young man, so coveted by all the warring lords and then some. he is even more stunning up close, more enthralling than the finest of gemstones. it seems all of the breathless tales of him are true; and while this kingdom belongs to liyue, zhongli decides that he will take aether for himself; his one, single spoil of war. he grasps his chin firmly, tilting that face up so he can study him -- and oh, how zhongli covets. it's easy to think of all the things he would do to him, all of the ways he can claim aether for himself. ]
You may bury your dead. And tonight, you will return to me.
[His father was not a kind man. Aether knows this well, and yet, seeing the man laid out in a pool of his own blood makes fear curdle in his throat. His father believed in things like sovereign authority and primal conquest; he was the sort of man who annexed Sumeru on a technicality, forcing the nation's young ruler into a breach of agreement which he himself had forced and orchestrated, and when Aether had begged him to reconsider, he'd struck his son across the face and called him weak.
He always was the weaker of the twins, too — wasn't their father always trying to pit the two of them against each other, trying to make each stronger for it? But then, isn't that why Lumine had disappeared in the end? (To rule the heavens, Aether thought, or has she now slipped into the fathomless depths of the abyss? The fact that she left without him had hurt worse than any of their father's blows, but what else was she supposed to do, really? What was he supposed to do, in the end?)
After losing Lumine, their father's controlling grip on his last remaining child had become increasingly ironclad, increasingly mad: he'd always known how beautiful his two scions were, had even weaponized it at times, telling them to extract as much information out of the naïve princes of other nations as they could. But with the forces of Liyue closing in on their palace, his father had staunchly kept Aether by his side, refusing to part with him for even a moment until at last the leader of Liyue had challenged him to a trial by combat and come out the victor for it.
Maybe he should feel free. And yet — despite everything — Aether thinks that maybe his father had only loved him in his own horrific way, and even though he knows the man would have told him not to show weakness, he feels his eyes welling up with tears.]
You — [it comes out choked] — you killed my father. You...
[Khaenri'ah is fallen, and Aether knows it. The nature of conquest is that it is barbaric, and Aether knows he'd be lucky if this opposing warlord — Zhongli, he thinks the name is — takes him as a concubine and doesn't subject him to humiliation or being paraded and desecrated through the streets. He'd be lucky to see his people not made chattel and turned to slaves and servants for the populace of Liyue. And yet — and yet, as Aether reaches out to his father's unmoving chest and lays one hand over the blood smeared over his father's immaculate robes — he thinks he might hate this man more than anybody else in the world.]
...What do you intend to do with me?
[He can't help it; he blinks, and tears fall into his father's shirt. Never again will the man scold or strike him for weakness, and yet...]
[ the mad king's cruelty and penchant for violence is known throughout the different kingdoms, whispers on the wings of secret birds, information fed through the vine to curious ears. zhongli has done his research, leveraged on the king's outsized pride and arrogance to engineer a (largely) bloodless victory. after all, khaenri'ah's gifts lie in its rich resources, its people, its location -- there is nothing to be gained in razing it and its people to the ground.
zhongli is not arrogant enough to call himself a liberator; loosening the yoke of the king around its people is only a happy coincidence, and his gaze is fixed on the prince's lovely form. even in mourning, he is achingly beautiful, and the sight of him smeared in his father's blood rouses something primal in him, something that zhongli wrests into silence.
aether's tears mingle with blood, and zhongli watches in silence for a long moment; how curious, that such a terrible, flawed monarch would inspire such heartache. the king would have punished aether for that show of humanity, zhongli is certain. perhaps it truly is better that he's dead. ]
Yes. [ the warlord says quietly, taking no pleasure in the response. ] It is as per the terms of the agreement.
[ he goes over to him, fingers under aether's chin as he tips his face up so he can look at him properly. ] For the first and only time in his life, your father has done something noble. [ even if it is driven by ego and madness, and even if zhongli had been the one to ruthlessly enforce it, cutting short the king's desperate pleas for his life. ] His life, for those of your people.
Khaenri'ah belongs to Liyue now. And you -- [ he searches those tear-filled eyes, gloved thumb swiping a tear from his cheek. ] -- are mine to do with as I wish. You are even fairer than the tales suggest, Prince Aether.
the curious little sprout of connection, like a budding flower in early springtime, pulsing with his element, severed without warning. zhongli might not be an archon anymore, but through him the power of geo still flows, as sure as lifeblood through primordial veins.
it is not death that severs them, not when he senses the gentle prickle of electricity in the fading embers of their connection. it is a gift unlike anything he's ever seen before, this ability to switch affiliations with the different elements. necessity, he supposes, but his grip on his teacup tightens nonetheless. inazuma demands much of his little traveler, his cherished, beloved gem, and so zhongli waits.
one month passes, two, and whispers of a golden-haired, golden-eyed beautiful boy across the stormy seas become louder, stories of the eternal archon finally releasing her tight grip on inazuma, that the brutal practice of vision hunting is now scrapped. he knows aether has everything to do with this, him with his ability to charm, to leave places better than when he had first found them.
the shogun must have favoured him, too, and zhongli keeps a careful grip on his own rising possessiveness, the desire to see his traveller returned to his beloved liyue.
zhongli is patient, of course, biding his time until one day, he receives the most welcome piece of news: the traveler has returned to liyue. he can sense the undercurrent of curiosity, of excitement amongst the ones in the know, that aether is perhaps the driving force behind inazuma's reopening. there are trade news, of course; important routes between liyue and inazuma blossoming (the qixing have found themselves incredibly busy these days), and zhongli sends aether an invitation.
the invitation is handwritten and carefully sealed, delivered to aether together with a selection of the finest food (each dish carefully chosen to replenish and rejuvenate), by a young page eager to see the outlander for himself. a summons of sorts, to his private abode late this evening.
finally, his little traveler will find his way back to him again.
zhongli has everything prepared for his arrival, from the candles to the warm, petal-lined bath to the bed they've shared, reminiscent of the first time zhongli had courted, ravished, and ultimately bedded him, spoiling him with decadence and an abundance of attention upon the finest of silk sheets and the most exquisite of fragrances. tonight is a homecoming of a similar scale, except the intent is a touch different.
aether belongs to him; his little traveler has always belonged to him, and he will brand that truth upon him tonight.
zhongli opens the doors when he hears the knock, the luminous purple of aether's accessories a stark reminder of the switch -- but even so, it does little to dull the welcome sight of that gorgeous face. ]
[After his long sojourn in Inazuma, there's one thing that Aether thinks he finally understands: what Zhongli did in Liyue was truly nothing short of a miracle. The fact that the nation flourishes, prosperous and healthy, even without Rex Lapis at its head, is only proof of Morax's good management. It's not as though he hates Ei, or disapproves of her leadership — but Inazuma was a land in turmoil, helmed by a god who put her oath of eternity over the happiness of her people. It's not as simple as saying that Ei was a bad person, or a bad leader — but she faltered. She showed weakness, and her people suffered for it.
For six thousand years, Zhongli never faltered. Thinking about it makes Aether feel selfishly, improbably giddy.
My Zhongli never falters, he whispers to himself, even as he receives the Wangsheng's eager young assistant with a radiant smile that is meant more for Zhongli than the messenger in his stead, and leaves the poor mortal man in a bit of a flustered tizzy as a result.
The food that Zhongli has sent him is as exquisite as his penmanship, and Aether knows by now that it is only a sampling of the delights to come. Even after all this time, Zhongli treats Aether like precious treasure — someone to be won over, to be cajoled and seduced — and while a part of Aether thinks it's a little silly, another part can't help but feel flattered to be so beloved. His heart feels like it's fluttering as he makes his way to Zhongli's private residents. The irregular pulse of static at his core yearns to be replaced by steady stone.]
Zhongli.
[Once he's greeted at the door, Aether leans in for a chaste kiss, wearing that sunshine smile that Zhongli loves so well. The traveler should never have let himself get this attached to anyone in Teyvat — but he feels so relieved to be in Zhongli's calming presence that he can't help but feel relieved just to see his golden eyes, just to lean close and breathe in the sweet scent of Zhongli's fine cologne.
(That earring of his, swaying in gorgeous violet — no, purple really isn't his color at all, is it?)]
You really know how to make me feel so special. [He can't help but tease, once he's stepped over the threshold into the dragon's den, ready to be doted on.] Once I saw your letter... I couldn't think about anything else but seeing you. Strange how that works, isn't it?
[Ekaterina has never received explicit orders to welcome Aether like an honored guest into the Northland Bank whenever he drops by, but like all good adjutants, she knows how to read her superior's mood, and she's realized by now that the traveler with golden hair and golden eyes seems to always brighten Childe's day ever so subtly (and sometimes not-so-subtly). So when Aether comes walking through the bank's fine lacquered doors, the soft-spoken brunette smiles past her mysterious mask and does not ask questions. She receives him in a private office for Childe's exclusive use. She serves him a cup of Liyue's best tea and a flask of Snezhnaya's best fire-water. She either doesn't care that Aether might be underage or just thinks it's perfectly fine to serve children vodka.
Aether doesn't really care, himself. He could use the burn.
The problem, if there is a problem, is that his own mood is far from bright. The traveler is — well, it's hard to tell, really, how he is. There's something soft and subdued to him as he sits in his chair, waiting for Childe's arrival, listlessly staring down into his drinks. Normally, Aether is neither very soft nor very subdued at all, but that's how he is now: something like concern on his face, something like worry. All his usual brash confidence seems to have left him.
By the time Childe comes in to greet Aether, the traveler has downed his fire-water, made his way to the bottom of his tea, and is anxiously rubbing his finger over the rim of the glazed porcelain cup. He looks up, and he doesn't quite smile. There might have been an attempt at one, but it's more like a grimace.]
...Childe.
[Aether withdraws his finger from the rim of the cup, golden eyes staring vaguely into the middle distance near Childe's body. His hands fall loosely into his lap.]
If I took out a loan with you... what would it cost me?
[ Any excitement Childe had at this sudden and unexpected meeting with the Traveler dies as soon as he sees him. Instinctively he tenses, every ounce of him suddenly on hyper-alert for an immediate explanation as to why Aether is in this mood. When he sees that Aether can't even muster much of a smile, his brow creases and he moves from the door to where Aether is seated, reaching out to put a hand on the other's shoulder only to stop inches from touching him when he hears that question.
If there's one thing Childe has learned well in his position at the bank, it's that there's asking for a loan and then there asking for a loan—he already doesn't like how obvious it is that the latter is what Aether is seeking. Finally resting his hand gently on the blonde's shoulder he comes to crouch down in front of him so he can stare up into those golden eyes a moment. He's silent, dark eyes searching for something before it's gone just like that and he's getting to his feet and moving his hand from Aether's shoulder to his head in a gentle and affectionate ruffle. It's as best of a greeting that feels appropriate.
The Harbinger finally takes a seat across from Aether looking at him expectantly. He would love to joke right now about why he could possibly need a loan, but, for some reason, even he can't stomach it. ]
That depends. How much? [ there's a pause in his words before he adds an additional factor: ] ...And for what.
[ Normally Childe is more than happy to dote on Aether in every way he can, including helping him financially. He understands the other has constant expenses and works hard to make his way through Teyvat on his journey, supporting both himself and that little pink cock-blocker with wings that also happens to be a garbage disposal for any and all food. This doesn't seem to be a case of that, if only because he's sure Paimon would be here along with Aether in a dramatic display, sprawled across the glass table moaning about how she's going to die if they don't have any money to get some meals pronto.
So Childe only assumes one thing: Aether's in trouble. It's the same for every man or woman who comes through the Northland Banks doors, the ones that know they have no other choice and know they're playing with fire indebting themselves to the Fatui; but somehow even that is better than what they are dealing with. These aren't the cocky business dealers ( who think they'll be able to outsmart the Fatui and somehow avoid ever having to pay back that loan ) that the Northland bank can most efficiently prey on. Desperation is a sad and miserable form of exploitation, and there's real chance that many of the clients that desperate will never live long enough to pay back the loan in the first place because of the absolute shit they're in. Greed is so much easier to exploit as well as most likely to be profitable.
And it's far more satisfying.
So Childe waits now for an answer, blue eyes staring at Aether as if the other will be telling him one way or another, with our without his words. He takes no joy in even entertaining the notion of being the one to get the Traveler officially indebted to the Fatui.
He expects to take even less in having to hear Aether's explanation. ]
[There's a part of Aether that almost thinks this would be easier if Childe just treated him like any other desperate fool seeking a loan from the Fatui. The gentle hand on his shoulder, the dark blue eyes searching his own — the traveler almost wants to recoil from these things, not because he doesn't want them, but because he thinks he doesn't deserve them. He knows full well that the situation he's in is in many ways his own fault, and there is nothing Aether hates more than not being able to solve his own problems.
But. When he looks across the table, there's Childe, open and patient and trusting, willing to work this out. Willing to be helpful, even though he doesn't know what Aether's gotten himself into. The traveler himself wants to joke through it, play it cool, pretend that the thing that's brought him here isn't eating him up inside. And, indeed, he's not ever going to admit that it's eating him up inside. But it's writ plain on his face, obvious in all of his features. Aether is good at lots of things, but he's never been especially good at hiding the way that he feels.
Aether swallows hard on something sour at the back of his throat, and then laces his hands together over his knees, crossing one thumb over the other.]
I guess you could say I'm refinancing a previous loan.
[He sighs and realizes too late that he's been sitting too stiffly, that he's been hunched over himself. He leans back, slouching in his seat.]
...I owe this merchant a lot of money. [He fidgets.] Well — Paimon does, but it's the same thing. She flew into a shipment of porcelain goods at the docks, and broke it all... and it belonged to him.
[The traveler is looking at Childe, but seemingly nowhere near his face. As he recounts his story, he stares vacantly at the Harbinger's jaw, his arms, the lines of his body. It might elicit a slightly odd sensation: the traveler usually has no problem meeting his gaze without fear or shame.]
He wasn't mad about it at the time. He even offered to let me work for him to pay off the debt. But...
[Aether falters. Falters on the truth.
It's not that he's afraid of what's happening. But he's afraid of what Childe might think of him when he finds out. He thinks he might be a fool. He thinks he might be a coward.
He does not elaborate on the truth.]
I — don't want to work for him anymore. [There was an odd hitch just now, wasn't there, in the sound of the traveler's voice?] Even if the Fatui's terms aren't fair... I'd rather go through you.
[ There are a few things that catch Tartaglia's suspicions from the information given. The most alarming is the fact that Aether has debt he's trying to pay back with more debt. If he doesn't want to work off his loan with the merchant and would rather get into debt with the Fatui, then something isn't right with the first situation.
So Paimon destroyed an entire shipment of what he assumes is particularly well-coveted porcelain crafts that sell at a premium. Yet, this merchant wasn't all that angry, and he was the one that offered for Aether to work for him to pay it off, not the Traveler chasing after an enraged merchant while tripping over himself to do whatever he can to make it up to them? A merchant who... apparently didn't have insurance purchased on his expensive goods, either (or did he conveniently never bother mentioning such a detail?) It's true the insurance could have been null and void as Paimon is not the shipping company's obligation, but... that should have quickly changed the individual's behavior toward the situation even if they hadn't been that upset initially.
It's painfully clear Aether is being extorted, Childe just has no idea to what extent (although the thought still curdles his blood a bit more than he would have expected it to.) Well, it's fine that Aether doesn't want to get into it; it's not like if their situations were reversed he would want to get into it with Aether, either. Therefore, he's not going to pry on the specifics if the Traveler isn't willing to share (or, at least, he's going to avoid doing so if he can,) but this must be some hefty debt. He'll need to confirm something first without directly spitting in Aether's face. Not that indirectly doing so is much better, but it doesn't seem like the Traveler is doing much to look out for his own well-being, and that means Childe has to do it for him. ]
... Aibou, if I told you that the bank would take on your debt from this merchant without caring what the loan amount is, but you would be working for me exactly the same way he's having you work for him now— would you still be eager to make this deal? Or do you have something more you should be explaining to me before climbing out of the jaws of one shark and immediately landing right into another's?
[The traveler does a very funny thing in response to that question: he turns red.
A slow flush creeps up his neck, staining his cheeks pink as he presses his temple into his thumb and struggles to respond. The most frustrating thing about trying to come up with something to say is that he already knows he's lost something by not being able to immediately answer, and there's another part of him that almost wants to applaud Childe for the effort: great work, excellent gambit, truly masterful checkmate. He knows Aether is hiding something now, and for it to make him blush like this...]
Well, that's — that's a bit different... That's a different situation...
[There aren't many things that would elicit such a strong physiological response from the traveler — and not too many people who can get him on his back foot like this, stuttering and trying to parry the next blow in their verbal conversation. He brings his hand down to his mouth, as though trying to hide his red face from view.]
I don't mind being around you... I just don't want to be around him.
[ Childe raises one eyebrow at those words especially when that physical response makes them speak a completely different kind of context than they would alone. However, despite being clearly caught, Aether insists on not spilling any further information, and even claiming he wouldn't mind if it was Childe. ]
Ah ha, is that so?
[ Shifting to rest one elbow on the arm of the couch and prop up his chin in his hand, Childe smiles an extremely friendly smile now— ]
If that's how you feel about it, it's a done deal, then~!
[ —but then it turns just a little bit predatory. Only a little bit, but it's very reminiscent of something he might show in a fight when he gets a little too excited about having an upper hand on an extremely worthy opponent. He makes a beckoning motion towards Aether with his free hand using one finger, inviting him to come over to the Harbinger. ]
My only stipulation is you give me a show of the work you'll be doing since you don't seem to want to talk about it. This loan is going to have my name on it as much as yours, and it's not that I don't trust you, aibou, it's juuussssst I want to make sure I'm satisfied with the kind of work quality I'll be getting here, since you are a bit of a unique client. You aren't exactly a resident of Teyvat that I can guarantee will always be locatable until the debt is paid.
[ That smiles eases back to the much friendlier one, now very much patiently waiting for the response.
[So Childe expects Aether to — what, come over to him and crawl into his lap? Not an altogether unpleasant demand, but given the context, Aether scowls about it. And yet, all the same, he rises to his feet, crossing the table to where Childe is sitting. He settles down next to him, pressing their bodies coyly together, and then —
— he flicks Childe on the nose with a gentle finger, scowling.]
Settle down. It's not what you're thinking.
[The traveler unfolds himself just slightly. Hips pressed into the armchair, legs extended to the side. Aether never really looks tired — there's a sort of ethereal quality to the way that he looks, even when he's haggard from a rough sparring match or slightly bruised — but there's something deeply exhausted hiding behind his irises as he stares dully at Childe's face. Clearly, he spent a lot of time stressing about this.]
He asked me to do — normal things, at first. Go here, guard that, make sure this caravan reaches its destination, clear the road. And I just thought he was... friendly. He'd put a hand on my shoulder, or touch my hair...
[He shakes his head, unsmiling.]
But now he — now all he wants is for me to be his "bodyguard." So he can keep me close, and pull me by the waist, or rest his hand on my back. And I know what he's leading up to. He's not very subtle. He's not going to say the debt is paid until I've slept with him.
[A final sigh of disgust. He traces an isle pattern into the leather armrest beneath Childe's sleeve.]
I know that I don't have to be — rescued. I could hurt him if I wanted to. I know that. I just... don't have the appetite for it. That's why I thought, with you... even if I have to work for the Fatui...
[ Why couldn't Aether just play coy by crawling into his lap first, and then smashing his dick with his knee or something, instead? (Nose flick is certainly preferrable to that, but depending how kind Aether was the pain would have been worth it. probably.)
Childe sighs dramatically, his posture crumpling as he flops against the back of the couch in a bit of a sulk. Still, it doesn't last long, listening quietly as Aether opens up about it. The harbinger keeps eye contact with Aether as long as he does him, but otherwise says nothing until he's finished.
After a moment, he hums thoughtfully before pointedly asking: ]
Do you have an actual price on your debt, then? Besides, what even makes you think he's going to accept the money if he's that intent on sticking it in? I'm not saying I'm not going to help you if you want me to, but this sounds like you'd be better off with a lawyer on work harassment charges rather than a "go get a big loan from the local rich bad guy brigade" kind of solution. What if you take the loan out and then he refuses? Or worse, takes it only on condition you sleep with him? Now you're in debt twice.
[A pause. ]
I mean, unless you want me to hurt him because you don't want to.
[Smashing Childe's dick with a knee is becoming increasingly appealing, especially as he bombards Aether with questions that the traveler frankly doesn't want to answer. Aether sighs sharply, wondering if the sense of exhaustion permeating his bones is because he's sick, but the sense of pressure behind his eyelids is closer to a headache borne from disgust than anything else. His voice is soft but laced with bitterness.]
...I didn't even want to tell you about it. What makes you think I want to take this to a lawyer? Or to a court?
[He suddenly regrets coming to the Fatui for help, but that should have been the obvious outcome from the start. The sense of disgust, the sense of shame — why did he think for even a moment that Childe would understand?
The traveler rises from the armchair entirely, folding his arms. He doesn't seem to want to look at Childe anymore, or flick his nose.]
Seven million Mora. That's all I'm asking for. It's just to make things even. If he won't take it, then I'll make him take it. If you think I'm being stupid, then I'll go somewhere else.
[ Childe doesn't seem to be doing much better in terms of annoyance over the way this conversation is going. He's trying to make a point that clearly the Traveler has no interest in taking.
He's going to go somewhere else? Is that some kind of threat? Like where he wants to ask, but he's a little bit caught off by the debt having a price. 7 million?
The Harbinger's expression turns to a scowl now that he's been given a number (and Aether's weird ultimatum.) He wants to say the obvious, that this is an incredibly big loan to take on and there's probably a better way to do this. ... Still, it's clear Aether has his mind set on how he plans to take care of this, and he isn't interested in any alternatives.
Maybe he's already thought all of them through. Well, fine then. If he just wants money and no advice (or other type of actual help), what can Childe do?
Without a word, Childe gets up from the couch, heading towards another door that leads to an office. Aether is welcome to follow him or stay put, but the results will be the same: he'll come back with a slip of paper and slowly offer it over. ] I'll let you handle this on your own like you want, but I expect you to head immediately over there, pay this scumbag off and report back.
[ those are his terms and while he's not withholding the slip to withdraw the loan from Aether to take, he doesn't seem like he's willing to negotiate any part of what he said.
The unspoken warning Don't make me come after you hangs heavy in the air.
Honestly? Childe thinks it's all pretty damn fair for 7 million mora. ]
[Where would Aether go, if Childe refused him? He honestly didn't even think it through when he said it, just wanted the line of questioning to end, but he could probably find some other wealthy merchant in Liyue who might be willing to cut a deal with him. Someone safer, a woman he's on good terms with maybe, like Ningguang — yes, perhaps he'd go to Ningguang, but the issue with Ningguang is that someone like Ningguang might tell someone like Beidou, and then he'd have to deal with all of it: the well-meaning pity, the well-meaning rage. If he went to Yanfei for help — no, maybe Yanfei wouldn't even take the case; she doesn't like emotional entanglements. But she'd recommend him to a colleague, maybe, and then he'd have to have a stranger advocating on his behalf, and he'd have to explain the whole situation to someone who doesn't know him, have to relive the whole thing from top to bottom, the line between adoration and heroism bleeding over into weakness and victimhood, and he doesn't want that. He can't think of anything he'd want less than for anyone to see past the story they've all been told.
If he asked Childe to hurt the merchant, the Harbinger would do it. Aether knows that. And yet — is this really the kind of crime that warrants death? Is that a judgment that he has the right to pass?
This would all be so much easier, Aether thinks, if it were happening to someone else.
But it's not happening to someone else and wanting the best for himself is so much more difficult than wanting the best for someone else, and Aether only takes the slip of paper silently, his expression inscrutable, looking it over to see what Childe has written on it without surprise. He seems to have lapsed into his usual thoughtful quietude. Then he nods, and stands, and heads for the door.
Maybe Childe follows him, or sends someone else to follow him. Maybe he doesn't do any of those things at all. It doesn't take Aether very long, in any case. The merchant who has been harassing him makes his office on the southern end of Chihu Rock; he's a friendly-looking, slender man with dark hair in a low ponytail, greying, even sort of handsome. Not the kind of man one would ordinarily suspect of sexual coercion, but is any man the sort one would suspect of that, honestly?
The merchant seems surprised by the check at first, then scowls, turns darker; he looks like he's about to fight Aether for a moment, but the way the traveler's hand has been gripped in a fist the whole time stays his hand, and he doesn't pressure. The fact that the check has been written on the Northland Bank's paper probably influences his decisions, too. He takes it, says something that only Aether can hear, and then the traveler turns, and walks out of his office, and is gone.
As promised, Aether returns to the Northland Bank after he's done. Ekaterina does not stop him from walking back into Childe's office.
He takes a seat in the same spot he was sitting in before, feeling a little empty, and a little hollow, but mostly just relieved that it's over.]
...
[He's quiet, and doesn't say much of anything. He looks at his empty mug of tea.]
[ Childe does not follow, and it's out of a slight bitterness over Aether's insistent way on doing things that makes the Harbinger petty enough that he's willing to bet Aether's safety on his own self. If he's stupid enough to get himself into trouble even more after everything else? Well, it'll serve him right.
—Or not exactly, because he does send an agent to tail Aether. It's not for Aether's benefit, he insists to himself, it's because he now has to justify in the books giving a seven million mora loan to someone who doesn't even have a technically definitive source of income. Occupation Adventurer isn't the same as loaning to a syndicate like the Treasure Hoarders. Since the Traveler is unwilling to accept direct assistance, Childe will just have to do it the more traditional way of the Fatui, as much as he resents the process in principle.
( For the Traveler, though... well, he'll always make the exception. )
The agent has returned well before Aether with information on the merchant. The Harbinger instructs the information to be handed off to another worker for cross-checking records. He wants to know if the individual has any current or past loans with the bank and instructs the original agent go to the Chamber of Commerce for records on the shipments sent to this merchant that have been detailed as written off or otherwise undeliverable due to damages occurred prior to being released to the owner. He wants to know the official verdict the shipment company stated and whether there was any sort of settlement or reimbursement transaction.
( Just typical everything days things normal people can get ahold of when looking for some foul play. )
By the time Aether finds his way back to his original spot in his office, Childe is at his desk doing paperwork and doesn't look up until he's actually spoken to. Taking a close look at the other, he doesn't notice anything physically out of the ordinary, at least. That's good. He would have expected a somewhat more cheerful Traveler out of all this at the end, though. He voices this concern without much hesitation. ]
Oh? Congratulations. Gotta admit, though, aibou, I was expecting you to be a little more enthused to be out of that mess if you came back successful. Care to indulge me?
[ there is a slight jab in his tone at asking if Aether will share why he's in such a mood since, you know, he was pretty unwilling to give any useful information beyond a hard number for the loan earlier.
Childe's really just not over being kept on the sidelines by the Traveler, especially because it has to his with his well-being& mdash; even if it's not ultimately his business. It's not the first time he wishes he could make it his, though. ]
[Childe seems a bit bitter wih him, but Aether can't hold that against him; he did sort of storm out in a huff after all, feeling cornered and maybe a little victim-blamed. He wouldn't say that out loud though. Doesn't want to be thought of as a victim; doesn't think Childe wants to think of him that way either. Besides, what did he really lose in the end? Not much. Not his virtue or anything like that. Just a few unpleasant seconds of his time.
Which is also why it seemed so outlandish to think about killing the merchant for something like this. How much punishment is enough for being sexually predatory? For being financially conniving? Yet there's still the thought of maybe we should have, and Aether only looks at his palm, curling it into a fist before he sighs.]
I don't know. Maybe you're right, and I should have asked you to kill him.
[He shakes his head.]
But it doesn't feel right, somehow... to punish someone for wanting something.
[He pulls one knee up to his chest where he's sitting on the chair, heedless of the way his heel is digging into the seat. It's fine. He hasn't really walked anywhere but in Liyue Harbor today; the soles of his shoes are mostly clean.]
[ The problem with Aether has always been and will be that for as just and fair as he tries to treat others and protect those who suffer from lack of such he never includes himself into the equation. It's clear cut what is enough punishment for such things as there are laws already in place for that, when the crime is recorded and the individual is convicted—murder is debatable, especially if Aether was not sexually assaulted, but there is the argument it can't go unreported. For better or for worse, Childe isn't in the neighborhood do-gooder to tip off the Millelith of (potential) sexual predators. If Aether doesn't want to push it, Childe won't push.
The Harbinger watches the Traveler carefully before looking back to the papers on his desk, picking up a quill pen and... simply stares down at it. ]
... We all want things, aibou. It's not the want that is the problem, [ well it's an additional problem to Childe in this case, for multiple reasons, even, but if they are somehow supposed to be unbiased here... ] it's what we do to get it— especially when it's not ours to take.
What kind of things have you wanted that make you feel you and he are alike enough you need to be lenient?
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warlord au.
the horrors it brings, the shock and pain of loss, the unbearable weight of grief and sacrifice, lovers torn asunder by its unstoppable force. to yield is to be swallowed whole; there is no mercy in surrender. zhongli understands this better than anyone else; havria's death a warning to the warring princes and their kingdoms. while zhongli doesn't seek dominion over all, he carves the road to peace with a relentless ruthlessness, and soon enough his reputation precedes him, soaked in blood and death. Kingdom after kingdom falls, folded under liyue's banner, which grows ever more prosperous and powerful.
but there is one particular kingdom that captures his attention. its monarch had only just died (most unfortunately, slain by zhongli in combat), leaving behind its golden-eyed prince and princess, known throughout the seven great kingdoms for their stunning beauty, and unfathomable powers. the princess was rumoured to have disappeared a few years ago, and it seems prince aether is the only one left of his illustrious dynasty. it's unfortunate, but aether's kingdom is the heart of the world, the key to the end of the war, and a crucial trade route that will unlock riches untold, propelling the world into a new age of progress. peace, it seems, can be bought for a high enough price, and zhongli intends to command order through one last conquest. ]
His life is forfeit, according to the rules of combat.
[ the warlord says finally, blood spattered on the pure white of his robes, the gleaming gold of his dangerously sharp spear dissipating as he sheathes it. zhongli regards the prince with glowing amber eyes, calm and assessing. the body of the dead king is treated with care, and zhongli's calm voice cuts through the clamor. ]
As is your kingdom.
[ he steps towards him, taking in the sight of this lovely young man, so coveted by all the warring lords and then some. he is even more stunning up close, more enthralling than the finest of gemstones. it seems all of the breathless tales of him are true; and while this kingdom belongs to liyue, zhongli decides that he will take aether for himself; his one, single spoil of war. he grasps his chin firmly, tilting that face up so he can study him -- and oh, how zhongli covets. it's easy to think of all the things he would do to him, all of the ways he can claim aether for himself. ]
You may bury your dead. And tonight, you will return to me.
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He always was the weaker of the twins, too — wasn't their father always trying to pit the two of them against each other, trying to make each stronger for it? But then, isn't that why Lumine had disappeared in the end? (To rule the heavens, Aether thought, or has she now slipped into the fathomless depths of the abyss? The fact that she left without him had hurt worse than any of their father's blows, but what else was she supposed to do, really? What was he supposed to do, in the end?)
After losing Lumine, their father's controlling grip on his last remaining child had become increasingly ironclad, increasingly mad: he'd always known how beautiful his two scions were, had even weaponized it at times, telling them to extract as much information out of the naïve princes of other nations as they could. But with the forces of Liyue closing in on their palace, his father had staunchly kept Aether by his side, refusing to part with him for even a moment until at last the leader of Liyue had challenged him to a trial by combat and come out the victor for it.
Maybe he should feel free. And yet — despite everything — Aether thinks that maybe his father had only loved him in his own horrific way, and even though he knows the man would have told him not to show weakness, he feels his eyes welling up with tears.]
You — [it comes out choked] — you killed my father. You...
[Khaenri'ah is fallen, and Aether knows it. The nature of conquest is that it is barbaric, and Aether knows he'd be lucky if this opposing warlord — Zhongli, he thinks the name is — takes him as a concubine and doesn't subject him to humiliation or being paraded and desecrated through the streets. He'd be lucky to see his people not made chattel and turned to slaves and servants for the populace of Liyue. And yet — and yet, as Aether reaches out to his father's unmoving chest and lays one hand over the blood smeared over his father's immaculate robes — he thinks he might hate this man more than anybody else in the world.]
...What do you intend to do with me?
[He can't help it; he blinks, and tears fall into his father's shirt. Never again will the man scold or strike him for weakness, and yet...]
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zhongli is not arrogant enough to call himself a liberator; loosening the yoke of the king around its people is only a happy coincidence, and his gaze is fixed on the prince's lovely form. even in mourning, he is achingly beautiful, and the sight of him smeared in his father's blood rouses something primal in him, something that zhongli wrests into silence.
aether's tears mingle with blood, and zhongli watches in silence for a long moment; how curious, that such a terrible, flawed monarch would inspire such heartache. the king would have punished aether for that show of humanity, zhongli is certain. perhaps it truly is better that he's dead. ]
Yes. [ the warlord says quietly, taking no pleasure in the response. ] It is as per the terms of the agreement.
[ he goes over to him, fingers under aether's chin as he tips his face up so he can look at him properly. ] For the first and only time in his life, your father has done something noble. [ even if it is driven by ego and madness, and even if zhongli had been the one to ruthlessly enforce it, cutting short the king's desperate pleas for his life. ] His life, for those of your people.
Khaenri'ah belongs to Liyue now. And you -- [ he searches those tear-filled eyes, gloved thumb swiping a tear from his cheek. ] -- are mine to do with as I wish. You are even fairer than the tales suggest, Prince Aether.
resonance.
the curious little sprout of connection, like a budding flower in early springtime, pulsing with his element, severed without warning. zhongli might not be an archon anymore, but through him the power of geo still flows, as sure as lifeblood through primordial veins.
it is not death that severs them, not when he senses the gentle prickle of electricity in the fading embers of their connection. it is a gift unlike anything he's ever seen before, this ability to switch affiliations with the different elements. necessity, he supposes, but his grip on his teacup tightens nonetheless. inazuma demands much of his little traveler, his cherished, beloved gem, and so zhongli waits.
one month passes, two, and whispers of a golden-haired, golden-eyed beautiful boy across the stormy seas become louder, stories of the eternal archon finally releasing her tight grip on inazuma, that the brutal practice of vision hunting is now scrapped. he knows aether has everything to do with this, him with his ability to charm, to leave places better than when he had first found them.
the shogun must have favoured him, too, and zhongli keeps a careful grip on his own rising possessiveness, the desire to see his traveller returned to his beloved liyue.
zhongli is patient, of course, biding his time until one day, he receives the most welcome piece of news: the traveler has returned to liyue. he can sense the undercurrent of curiosity, of excitement amongst the ones in the know, that aether is perhaps the driving force behind inazuma's reopening. there are trade news, of course; important routes between liyue and inazuma blossoming (the qixing have found themselves incredibly busy these days), and zhongli sends aether an invitation.
the invitation is handwritten and carefully sealed, delivered to aether together with a selection of the finest food (each dish carefully chosen to replenish and rejuvenate), by a young page eager to see the outlander for himself. a summons of sorts, to his private abode late this evening.
finally, his little traveler will find his way back to him again.
zhongli has everything prepared for his arrival, from the candles to the warm, petal-lined bath to the bed they've shared, reminiscent of the first time zhongli had courted, ravished, and ultimately bedded him, spoiling him with decadence and an abundance of attention upon the finest of silk sheets and the most exquisite of fragrances. tonight is a homecoming of a similar scale, except the intent is a touch different.
aether belongs to him; his little traveler has always belonged to him, and he will brand that truth upon him tonight.
zhongli opens the doors when he hears the knock, the luminous purple of aether's accessories a stark reminder of the switch -- but even so, it does little to dull the welcome sight of that gorgeous face. ]
...Aether.
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For six thousand years, Zhongli never faltered. Thinking about it makes Aether feel selfishly, improbably giddy.
My Zhongli never falters, he whispers to himself, even as he receives the Wangsheng's eager young assistant with a radiant smile that is meant more for Zhongli than the messenger in his stead, and leaves the poor mortal man in a bit of a flustered tizzy as a result.
The food that Zhongli has sent him is as exquisite as his penmanship, and Aether knows by now that it is only a sampling of the delights to come. Even after all this time, Zhongli treats Aether like precious treasure — someone to be won over, to be cajoled and seduced — and while a part of Aether thinks it's a little silly, another part can't help but feel flattered to be so beloved. His heart feels like it's fluttering as he makes his way to Zhongli's private residents. The irregular pulse of static at his core yearns to be replaced by steady stone.]
Zhongli.
[Once he's greeted at the door, Aether leans in for a chaste kiss, wearing that sunshine smile that Zhongli loves so well. The traveler should never have let himself get this attached to anyone in Teyvat — but he feels so relieved to be in Zhongli's calming presence that he can't help but feel relieved just to see his golden eyes, just to lean close and breathe in the sweet scent of Zhongli's fine cologne.
(That earring of his, swaying in gorgeous violet — no, purple really isn't his color at all, is it?)]
You really know how to make me feel so special. [He can't help but tease, once he's stepped over the threshold into the dragon's den, ready to be doted on.] Once I saw your letter... I couldn't think about anything else but seeing you. Strange how that works, isn't it?
pay your dues.
Aether doesn't really care, himself. He could use the burn.
The problem, if there is a problem, is that his own mood is far from bright. The traveler is — well, it's hard to tell, really, how he is. There's something soft and subdued to him as he sits in his chair, waiting for Childe's arrival, listlessly staring down into his drinks. Normally, Aether is neither very soft nor very subdued at all, but that's how he is now: something like concern on his face, something like worry. All his usual brash confidence seems to have left him.
By the time Childe comes in to greet Aether, the traveler has downed his fire-water, made his way to the bottom of his tea, and is anxiously rubbing his finger over the rim of the glazed porcelain cup. He looks up, and he doesn't quite smile. There might have been an attempt at one, but it's more like a grimace.]
...Childe.
[Aether withdraws his finger from the rim of the cup, golden eyes staring vaguely into the middle distance near Childe's body. His hands fall loosely into his lap.]
If I took out a loan with you... what would it cost me?
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If there's one thing Childe has learned well in his position at the bank, it's that there's asking for a loan and then there asking for a loan—he already doesn't like how obvious it is that the latter is what Aether is seeking. Finally resting his hand gently on the blonde's shoulder he comes to crouch down in front of him so he can stare up into those golden eyes a moment. He's silent, dark eyes searching for something before it's gone just like that and he's getting to his feet and moving his hand from Aether's shoulder to his head in a gentle and affectionate ruffle. It's as best of a greeting that feels appropriate.
The Harbinger finally takes a seat across from Aether looking at him expectantly. He would love to joke right now about why he could possibly need a loan, but, for some reason, even he can't stomach it. ]
That depends. How much? [ there's a pause in his words before he adds an additional factor: ] ...And for what.
[ Normally Childe is more than happy to dote on Aether in every way he can, including helping him financially. He understands the other has constant expenses and works hard to make his way through Teyvat on his journey, supporting both himself and that little pink cock-blocker with wings that also happens to be a garbage disposal for any and all food. This doesn't seem to be a case of that, if only because he's sure Paimon would be here along with Aether in a dramatic display, sprawled across the glass table moaning about how she's going to die if they don't have any money to get some meals pronto.
So Childe only assumes one thing: Aether's in trouble. It's the same for every man or woman who comes through the Northland Banks doors, the ones that know they have no other choice and know they're playing with fire indebting themselves to the Fatui; but somehow even that is better than what they are dealing with. These aren't the cocky business dealers ( who think they'll be able to outsmart the Fatui and somehow avoid ever having to pay back that loan ) that the Northland bank can most efficiently prey on. Desperation is a sad and miserable form of exploitation, and there's real chance that many of the clients that desperate will never live long enough to pay back the loan in the first place because of the absolute shit they're in. Greed is so much easier to exploit as well as most likely to be profitable.
And it's far more satisfying.
So Childe waits now for an answer, blue eyes staring at Aether as if the other will be telling him one way or another, with our without his words. He takes no joy in even entertaining the notion of being the one to get the Traveler officially indebted to the Fatui.
He expects to take even less in having to hear Aether's explanation. ]
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But. When he looks across the table, there's Childe, open and patient and trusting, willing to work this out. Willing to be helpful, even though he doesn't know what Aether's gotten himself into. The traveler himself wants to joke through it, play it cool, pretend that the thing that's brought him here isn't eating him up inside. And, indeed, he's not ever going to admit that it's eating him up inside. But it's writ plain on his face, obvious in all of his features. Aether is good at lots of things, but he's never been especially good at hiding the way that he feels.
Aether swallows hard on something sour at the back of his throat, and then laces his hands together over his knees, crossing one thumb over the other.]
I guess you could say I'm refinancing a previous loan.
[He sighs and realizes too late that he's been sitting too stiffly, that he's been hunched over himself. He leans back, slouching in his seat.]
...I owe this merchant a lot of money. [He fidgets.] Well — Paimon does, but it's the same thing. She flew into a shipment of porcelain goods at the docks, and broke it all... and it belonged to him.
[The traveler is looking at Childe, but seemingly nowhere near his face. As he recounts his story, he stares vacantly at the Harbinger's jaw, his arms, the lines of his body. It might elicit a slightly odd sensation: the traveler usually has no problem meeting his gaze without fear or shame.]
He wasn't mad about it at the time. He even offered to let me work for him to pay off the debt. But...
[Aether falters. Falters on the truth.
It's not that he's afraid of what's happening. But he's afraid of what Childe might think of him when he finds out. He thinks he might be a fool. He thinks he might be a coward.
He does not elaborate on the truth.]
I — don't want to work for him anymore. [There was an odd hitch just now, wasn't there, in the sound of the traveler's voice?] Even if the Fatui's terms aren't fair... I'd rather go through you.
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So Paimon destroyed an entire shipment of what he assumes is particularly well-coveted porcelain crafts that sell at a premium. Yet, this merchant wasn't all that angry, and he was the one that offered for Aether to work for him to pay it off, not the Traveler chasing after an enraged merchant while tripping over himself to do whatever he can to make it up to them? A merchant who... apparently didn't have insurance purchased on his expensive goods, either (or did he conveniently never bother mentioning such a detail?) It's true the insurance could have been null and void as Paimon is not the shipping company's obligation, but... that should have quickly changed the individual's behavior toward the situation even if they hadn't been that upset initially.
It's painfully clear Aether is being extorted, Childe just has no idea to what extent (although the thought still curdles his blood a bit more than he would have expected it to.) Well, it's fine that Aether doesn't want to get into it; it's not like if their situations were reversed he would want to get into it with Aether, either. Therefore, he's not going to pry on the specifics if the Traveler isn't willing to share (or, at least, he's going to avoid doing so if he can,) but this must be some hefty debt. He'll need to confirm something first without directly spitting in Aether's face. Not that indirectly doing so is much better, but it doesn't seem like the Traveler is doing much to look out for his own well-being, and that means Childe has to do it for him. ]
... Aibou, if I told you that the bank would take on your debt from this merchant without caring what the loan amount is, but you would be working for me exactly the same way he's having you work for him now— would you still be eager to make this deal? Or do you have something more you should be explaining to me before climbing out of the jaws of one shark and immediately landing right into another's?
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A slow flush creeps up his neck, staining his cheeks pink as he presses his temple into his thumb and struggles to respond. The most frustrating thing about trying to come up with something to say is that he already knows he's lost something by not being able to immediately answer, and there's another part of him that almost wants to applaud Childe for the effort: great work, excellent gambit, truly masterful checkmate. He knows Aether is hiding something now, and for it to make him blush like this...]
Well, that's — that's a bit different... That's a different situation...
[There aren't many things that would elicit such a strong physiological response from the traveler — and not too many people who can get him on his back foot like this, stuttering and trying to parry the next blow in their verbal conversation. He brings his hand down to his mouth, as though trying to hide his red face from view.]
I don't mind being around you... I just don't want to be around him.
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Ah ha, is that so?
[ Shifting to rest one elbow on the arm of the couch and prop up his chin in his hand, Childe smiles an extremely friendly smile now— ]
If that's how you feel about it, it's a done deal, then~!
[ —but then it turns just a little bit predatory. Only a little bit, but it's very reminiscent of something he might show in a fight when he gets a little too excited about having an upper hand on an extremely worthy opponent. He makes a beckoning motion towards Aether with his free hand using one finger, inviting him to come over to the Harbinger. ]
My only stipulation is you give me a show of the work you'll be doing since you don't seem to want to talk about it. This loan is going to have my name on it as much as yours, and it's not that I don't trust you, aibou, it's juuussssst I want to make sure I'm satisfied with the kind of work quality I'll be getting here, since you are a bit of a unique client. You aren't exactly a resident of Teyvat that I can guarantee will always be locatable until the debt is paid.
[ That smiles eases back to the much friendlier one, now very much patiently waiting for the response.
Your move, Traveler. ]
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— he flicks Childe on the nose with a gentle finger, scowling.]
Settle down. It's not what you're thinking.
[The traveler unfolds himself just slightly. Hips pressed into the armchair, legs extended to the side. Aether never really looks tired — there's a sort of ethereal quality to the way that he looks, even when he's haggard from a rough sparring match or slightly bruised — but there's something deeply exhausted hiding behind his irises as he stares dully at Childe's face. Clearly, he spent a lot of time stressing about this.]
He asked me to do — normal things, at first. Go here, guard that, make sure this caravan reaches its destination, clear the road. And I just thought he was... friendly. He'd put a hand on my shoulder, or touch my hair...
[He shakes his head, unsmiling.]
But now he — now all he wants is for me to be his "bodyguard." So he can keep me close, and pull me by the waist, or rest his hand on my back. And I know what he's leading up to. He's not very subtle. He's not going to say the debt is paid until I've slept with him.
[A final sigh of disgust. He traces an isle pattern into the leather armrest beneath Childe's sleeve.]
I know that I don't have to be — rescued. I could hurt him if I wanted to. I know that. I just... don't have the appetite for it. That's why I thought, with you... even if I have to work for the Fatui...
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Childe sighs dramatically, his posture crumpling as he flops against the back of the couch in a bit of a sulk. Still, it doesn't last long, listening quietly as Aether opens up about it. The harbinger keeps eye contact with Aether as long as he does him, but otherwise says nothing until he's finished.
After a moment, he hums thoughtfully before pointedly asking: ]
Do you have an actual price on your debt, then? Besides, what even makes you think he's going to accept the money if he's that intent on sticking it in? I'm not saying I'm not going to help you if you want me to, but this sounds like you'd be better off with a lawyer on work harassment charges rather than a "go get a big loan from the local rich bad guy brigade" kind of solution. What if you take the loan out and then he refuses? Or worse, takes it only on condition you sleep with him? Now you're in debt twice.
[A pause. ]
I mean, unless you want me to hurt him because you don't want to.
no subject
...I didn't even want to tell you about it. What makes you think I want to take this to a lawyer? Or to a court?
[He suddenly regrets coming to the Fatui for help, but that should have been the obvious outcome from the start. The sense of disgust, the sense of shame — why did he think for even a moment that Childe would understand?
The traveler rises from the armchair entirely, folding his arms. He doesn't seem to want to look at Childe anymore, or flick his nose.]
Seven million Mora. That's all I'm asking for. It's just to make things even. If he won't take it, then I'll make him take it. If you think I'm being stupid, then I'll go somewhere else.
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He's going to go somewhere else? Is that some kind of threat? Like where he wants to ask, but he's a little bit caught off by the debt having a price. 7 million?
The Harbinger's expression turns to a scowl now that he's been given a number (and Aether's weird ultimatum.) He wants to say the obvious, that this is an incredibly big loan to take on and there's probably a better way to do this. ... Still, it's clear Aether has his mind set on how he plans to take care of this, and he isn't interested in any alternatives.
Maybe he's already thought all of them through. Well, fine then. If he just wants money and no advice (or other type of actual help), what can Childe do?
Without a word, Childe gets up from the couch, heading towards another door that leads to an office. Aether is welcome to follow him or stay put, but the results will be the same: he'll come back with a slip of paper and slowly offer it over. ] I'll let you handle this on your own like you want, but I expect you to head immediately over there, pay this scumbag off and report back.
[ those are his terms and while he's not withholding the slip to withdraw the loan from Aether to take, he doesn't seem like he's willing to negotiate any part of what he said.
The unspoken warning Don't make me come after you hangs heavy in the air.
Honestly? Childe thinks it's all pretty damn fair for 7 million mora. ]
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If he asked Childe to hurt the merchant, the Harbinger would do it. Aether knows that. And yet — is this really the kind of crime that warrants death? Is that a judgment that he has the right to pass?
This would all be so much easier, Aether thinks, if it were happening to someone else.
But it's not happening to someone else and wanting the best for himself is so much more difficult than wanting the best for someone else, and Aether only takes the slip of paper silently, his expression inscrutable, looking it over to see what Childe has written on it without surprise. He seems to have lapsed into his usual thoughtful quietude. Then he nods, and stands, and heads for the door.
Maybe Childe follows him, or sends someone else to follow him. Maybe he doesn't do any of those things at all. It doesn't take Aether very long, in any case. The merchant who has been harassing him makes his office on the southern end of Chihu Rock; he's a friendly-looking, slender man with dark hair in a low ponytail, greying, even sort of handsome. Not the kind of man one would ordinarily suspect of sexual coercion, but is any man the sort one would suspect of that, honestly?
The merchant seems surprised by the check at first, then scowls, turns darker; he looks like he's about to fight Aether for a moment, but the way the traveler's hand has been gripped in a fist the whole time stays his hand, and he doesn't pressure. The fact that the check has been written on the Northland Bank's paper probably influences his decisions, too. He takes it, says something that only Aether can hear, and then the traveler turns, and walks out of his office, and is gone.
As promised, Aether returns to the Northland Bank after he's done. Ekaterina does not stop him from walking back into Childe's office.
He takes a seat in the same spot he was sitting in before, feeling a little empty, and a little hollow, but mostly just relieved that it's over.]
...
[He's quiet, and doesn't say much of anything. He looks at his empty mug of tea.]
...It's done.
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—Or not exactly, because he does send an agent to tail Aether. It's not for Aether's benefit, he insists to himself, it's because he now has to justify in the books giving a seven million mora loan to someone who doesn't even have a technically definitive source of income. Occupation Adventurer isn't the same as loaning to a syndicate like the Treasure Hoarders.
Since the Traveler is unwilling to accept direct assistance, Childe will just have to do it the more traditional way of the Fatui, as much as he resents the process in principle.
( For the Traveler, though... well, he'll always make the exception. )
The agent has returned well before Aether with information on the merchant. The Harbinger instructs the information to be handed off to another worker for cross-checking records. He wants to know if the individual has any current or past loans with the bank and instructs the original agent go to the Chamber of Commerce for records on the shipments sent to this merchant that have been detailed as written off or otherwise undeliverable due to damages occurred prior to being released to the owner. He wants to know the official verdict the shipment company stated and whether there was any sort of settlement or reimbursement transaction.
( Just typical everything days things normal people can get ahold of when looking for some foul play. )
By the time Aether finds his way back to his original spot in his office, Childe is at his desk doing paperwork and doesn't look up until he's actually spoken to. Taking a close look at the other, he doesn't notice anything physically out of the ordinary, at least. That's good. He would have expected a somewhat more cheerful Traveler out of all this at the end, though. He voices this concern without much hesitation. ]
Oh? Congratulations. Gotta admit, though, aibou, I was expecting you to be a little more enthused to be out of that mess if you came back successful. Care to indulge me?
[ there is a slight jab in his tone at asking if Aether will share why he's in such a mood since, you know, he was pretty unwilling to give any useful information beyond a hard number for the loan earlier.
Childe's really just not over being kept on the sidelines by the Traveler, especially because it has to his with his well-being& mdash; even if it's not ultimately his business. It's not the first time he wishes he could make it his, though. ]
no subject
Which is also why it seemed so outlandish to think about killing the merchant for something like this. How much punishment is enough for being sexually predatory? For being financially conniving? Yet there's still the thought of maybe we should have, and Aether only looks at his palm, curling it into a fist before he sighs.]
I don't know. Maybe you're right, and I should have asked you to kill him.
[He shakes his head.]
But it doesn't feel right, somehow... to punish someone for wanting something.
[He pulls one knee up to his chest where he's sitting on the chair, heedless of the way his heel is digging into the seat. It's fine. He hasn't really walked anywhere but in Liyue Harbor today; the soles of his shoes are mostly clean.]
...I've wanted a lot of things.
no subject
The Harbinger watches the Traveler carefully before looking back to the papers on his desk, picking up a quill pen and... simply stares down at it. ]
... We all want things, aibou. It's not the want that is the problem, [ well it's an additional problem to Childe in this case, for multiple reasons, even, but if they are somehow supposed to be unbiased here... ] it's what we do to get it— especially when it's not ours to take.
What kind of things have you wanted that make you feel you and he are alike enough you need to be lenient?