Double Trouble Disco Dance

2

"I wonder why he wouldn't let me walk him back," Childe muttered to himself while staring off into space. He was practically trapped in this one room. Scaramouche forbade him from attempting to wander since he was awful at pretending to be Tartaglia. "Did I really make it seem like I had something else in mind?" he sighed and rested his head on the desk. "Such a beautiful man. I can see why the emperor married him." 

"The emperor did not marry him for love." 

Childe nearly leaped out of his skin upon hearing Scaramouche's voice. He sat up straight. 

"In fact, their relationship is a bit..." Scaramouche glanced away, shifting his weight from discomfort. "Strained would put it lightly...the consummation ceremony has yet to take place due to excuses made up on the royal spouse's side of things or by the emperor himself finding other things to occupy his time. There are rumors, of course, you've heard, that he still wishes to become Emperor of Liyue and the wedding is a farce for him to bide his time. Until the ceremony happens, they are not officially married." 

"I've also heard that he is incredibly evil, a scoundrel, and tortures the emperor's concubines." 

"The truth is a bit different," Scaramouche crossed his arms. "The emperor is the one that tortures his concubines...and the royal spouse...well," he glanced away, looking a bit ashamed. "He is right to avoid the consummation. Every interaction I've observed between the two has been violent or verbally exhausting... I'm surprised he hasn't snapped at the emperor yet." 

"That's..." Childe looked down at his hands. "That's so sad..." 

"Stay away from the royal spouse," Scaramouche slapped his hand down on the desk. "If you get too close to him, the emperor will do far more than have your head!" 

"But I thought-" 

"It doesn't matter," Scaramouche snapped. "The emperor hates when his belongings are taken from him. He may not have the royal spouse's affections but he will have your skin should you touch him!" 

"He isn't a belonging!" Childe stood up and slammed both of his hands down on the desk. His voice raised and his eyes raging. He looked entirely like Tartaglia for the first time. It was all Scaramouche could do to remain standing. 

"He is. He is married to the emperor and therefore belongs to the emperor. I am telling you this for your own good, you clown," Scaramouche's voice cracked slightly. "Do. Not. Touch. His. Husband." 

...

Childe walked the palace, finally allowed out for a moment or two. He wandered, not aware of where he was going, and ended up back in the same garden as before. The royal spouse sat on a bench in front of the grand tree. His legs were crossed and his hair was tied back. A book in his hand. The wind slightly blew his fringe but didn't go into his eyes. Childe opened his mouth to call out to him but remembered Scaramouche's warning. He also remembered that he had no idea what he should even call this man. Wouldn't it be weird to pose as the emperor but not have any idea what his husband's name was? Well, that's Childe for you. 

A loose page from the book flew out of its binding and into the air. The royal spouse reached up to grab it but was too slow. The wind took it, guiding it toward Childe, and he snatched his opportunity to speak to the royal spouse faster than his heart could beat. Childe stepped forward, offering the page to him. He hesitated for a moment but took it. 

"Thank you, my liege," he spoke in a reserved and cold fashion, not that Childe minded.

"The pleasure is mine, my queen." Childe once again wanted to slam his head into the nearest wall. Why did he always mess up around this beautiful man? At least call him a king, seriously Childe? What is wrong with you? 

The royal spouse did not offer a response so Childe dug himself further into this grave of his. 

"I mean no offense," he began, "I am unaware of what type of terms of endearment you prefer so I've got a few to try. Do you mind if I sit?" 

"I cannot refuse a request from you, my liege."

"But I would like you to be frank with me," Childe placed a hand over his heart. "I make you uncomfortable, do I not? You may refuse if you wish." Yep. That was totally a thing the emperor would never say. Nice going, Childe. 

"You may sit and you may call me what you wish. You've already done so many a time before," the royal spouse replied, but his voice was still the same as it always had been. He was not more or less harsh than before nor was he more or less cold. He simply spoke. 

"I see," Childe placed his hand on his chin and looked up at the tree, he did not take a seat. "'My queen' was not to your liking." 

"I am not a woman, Your Majesty," he replied calmly, as usual. 

"'My spouse' just doesn't roll off of the tongue, you see," Childe placed his hands on his hips and let out a chuckle, returning his gaze to the royal spouse. 

"Why not just call me by my name?" 

"Your name?" 

The royal spouse placed the page in the book and closed it. He covered half of his face with his hand, holding his head. "Of course, you don't remember my name, why would you?" he spoke quietly. "Zhongli, Your Majesty, my name is Zhongli..." He stood up and walked away, leaving Childe to burn up in flames due to his own ignorance.