#glory to her majesty the Tsaritsa! May she reign eternal!

[gachaparadise]

I drafted this post back in July but i forgot to post it so here it is belatedly. Oloron has gone from a Maybe to a Yes by virtue of being a 4 star, but everything else still stands >_>

[oregano-writes]

Tartaglia's 5-Step Plan for Wooing Morax- Chapter 9: Negotiations

Zhongli was idly looking through paperwork at his desk when he heard a sharp knock from outside.

“One moment,” he called out, before walking over and opening the door of the office.

The Fatui agent waiting on the patio handed him a small box. “From her Majesty the Tsaritsa! May her glory reign eternal!”

Once the agent had handed Zhongli the box, they scampered off as fast as they could, as though they had been frightened. Although, as Zhongli considered it, it likely wasn’t often that the bank workers got direct orders from Barnabas, and any person important enough to warrant deliveries from her was almost certainly dangerous in some sense.

He placed the box on his desk, picking up an envelope knife and carefully slicing apart the tape keeping it closed. Inside was a round Cryo crystal and an accompanying note. Urgent– Break away from mortal eyes.

Since Hu Tao was out running errands, Zhongli supposed that it was as good a time as any to see what the ever-elusive Cryo archon needed to contact him for.

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After locking all the doors and clearing out a space in the entry hall, Zhongli took the crystal between his fingers and turned it around, seeing how it reflected the sunlight, before dropping it, and watching it crack apart on the floor. For a moment, it looked as if nothing was going to happen, but then the crystal began to crack and dissolve further, until it was only a thin sheen of powder across the floor. It then began rising into the air, forming itself into a figure. It stayed slightly foggy looking for a second or two, before condensing into a clear projection of the Cryo archon, Barnabas.

The projection, originally motionless, suddenly jerked to life.

“Ah,” muttered Barnabas. “It worked.”

“That it did.” Zhongli could make out the edge of her throne behind her, which she walked backwards to sit on. However, the projection didn’t change location, the throne appeared to approach her, making for an altogether odd visage.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

Barnabas nodded. “Yes. You remember our discussions earlier, over the possession of your Gnosis?”

Zhongli sighed. “For the last time, Barnabas. I cannot simply surrender my Gnosis for nothing. You of all people must understand that a Gnosis is worth far too much for that.”

“Hm. And what would be worth as much as a Gnosis?”

Zhongli considered that for a second. “I do not think that any worldly possession could be worth as much as a gnosis. I am fed, clothed, and housed– everything else is a luxury I can live without. It would be selfish for me to trade it away to make only myself happier.”

The Tsaritsa hummed again. “So, you would only trade it away to help someone else?”

“I wouldn’t trade the Gnosis away for just anyone, but yes.”

“What about a soulmate?”

“What?” 

“Would you trade away your gnosis to save your soulmate?”

Zhongli made a confused face at that. “I guess I would make such a deal for a hypothetical soulmate of mine, but I am not in any sort of relationship at the moment.” Unless– could she mean–

Barnabas smiled sweetly, leaning over to the side of her throne, and pulling up a swirling mass onto her lap. The cloud warped slightly, before solidifying into a sickeningly recognisable face.

“What have you done to him?” The phrase, intended like a question, came out threateningly. “If you have hurt him–”

When Zhongli stepped forward and reached out towards Childe, the projection only dissipated around his hand, like a reflection on a pool of water.

The Tsaritsa simply tutted at him. “Now, now, Morax, I would assume you of all people would play fair in a negotiation like this. I truly didn’t wish for it to come to this, but if this is what I must do, I will not hesitate.”

She carded her fingers through Childe’s hair, who still didn’t move. As the frost making up his form reassembled, Zhongli thought he could see crystals of ice along his hair and neck.

“Barnabas. What have you done to him?” Zhongli repeated.

“It depends. Will you be cooperating in our little discussion?”

“If I must. You want the gnosis in exchange for his safety, I presume?”

Barnabas smiled. “Now we’re getting somewhere. And I can even sweeten the deal for you— You can have him. Permanently. I will let him retire from being a Harbinger, and he can even join your little pantheon of Adepti, if you wish.”

Truthfully, there was nothing Zhongli wished for more in the moment than to spirit away the Snezhnayan and not let anything else happen to him, even if he did not wish to admit this to Barnabas.

He reached into his chest, pulling out the small gold chess piece that had caused so much trouble.

“You may have it.”

The Tsaritsa reached out a hand of ice, and when she touched the gnosis, the frost creeped over its surface, before it was but another of her Cryo constructs. She turned it around in her hand. With a flourish of her hand, it disappeared, and in the same motion, the ice covering Childe’s skin disappeared, and he stirred slightly. She lifted him by the shoulders and placed him into Zhongli’s waiting arms, where ice and snow was quickly replaced by skin and fabric. Zhongli looked up to where the Tsaritsa was, only to see that the misty projection had already disappeared, and the only thing left was a thin sheen of water on the ground. 

Childe stirred in his arms, still fully asleep.

“Shh,” Zhongli murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You’re safe now.”

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Zhongli placed Childe down on his bed, tucking a quilt around his shoulders to keep the cool night air out. He looked so peaceful that Zhongli couldn’t help but smile. If this is what giving up his Gnosis got him, it wasn’t the worst deal he could have made. 

He left Childe to sleep while he prepared a pot of soup. He ended up settling on slow-cooked bamboo shoot soup, a specialty of his. It was relaxing to make, the soft, rhythmic chh of the knife soothing his somewhat frayed nerves. He briefly considered attempting to add some sort of seafood, but changed his mind last-minute– he had already given up his Gnosis for the man, he would not subject himself to cooking fish on top of that. If Childe was not grateful for that, that was his own problem, and Zhongli would not hold himself responsible.

When all of the ingredients had been prepared, he combined them, pushing the stew onto the back burner and bringing it to a light simmer. That should be ready by the time he wakes up.

Zhongli reentered his bedroom, picking up a novel– The Fox in the Dandelion Sea– and settling into the chair next to the bed. As he read on, he found it difficult to keep his eyes focused on the page, and, with a yawn, leaned his head onto the mattress next to Childe. 

“Good night,” he whispered, reaching up to brush a strand of hair out of Childe’s eyes with a smile.