For once, Zhongli is the first to wake, nestled into the pillow of Ajax's shoulder, a firm embrace pinning him close, their naked bodies intertwined. He blinks himself awake, his thoughts beginning to process.
Today is the day.
Today is the day that they enter the portal in the forest, march into the depths of the Abyss, and free Ajax from the demons which bind him.
Ajax. His dear Ajax.
Zhongli allows his hand to drift up the plane of Ajax's stomach and chest, gliding across his bicep, feeling over every curve of the muscle—the smooth, youthful skin, the veteran's scars. He thumbs over a deep, silvery indent on Ajax's inner arm, a wound that would have ripped through skin and muscle alike when it were fresh.
So many scars for one who has spent barely two decades in this world. Zhongli leans closer, mapping each line tenderly. If only love were needed, how he would wash away the pains of the past in an instant.
"Getting a good eyeful this morning, huh?"
Zhongli jumps, snatching his hand back.
"Hey, I don't mind." Ajax offers Zhongli a wink and takes Zhongli's hand, placing it flat against his chest, the beat of his heart tapping lightly against Zhongli's palm. "Those are the true marks of a warrior, so take your fill and get a good look. Go on, I won't interrupt you."
Zhongli hums and slides his hand to cradle Ajax's jaw. "I would much rather look into your eyes, and see the reflection of my own love harboured there." He brushes his thumb over Ajax's lower lip. "Your eyes are captivating, Ajax."
Ajax turns his head, suddenly awkward. "They aren't that great. I know they're a bit weird."
"Unique, yes, but I do not find them 'weird', as you phrased it." Ajax still won't look at him, and although Zhongli understands why Ajax might see ugliness there—his eyes are different to most humans, yes—Zhongli's heart twists. "Look at me, airen."
Ajax may not know the meaning of the word, but he turns toward it tentatively, his gaze dancing away from Zhongli before returning to meet him.
Zhongli will never get tired of looking into the deep, flat blue that reflects not light, but the turmoil of Ajax's past and his strength of will to overcome it. These too, are the eyes of a warrior, scars worn not on skin, but in the depths of his soul, jagged lines etched within the essence of his being, parts of him carved away, others reformed entirely. Yet while skin bearing the scars of battle bears its own beauty, so does this imperfect, weathered soul, perfect in imperfection, beauty in tenacity and perseverance.
"You have stunning eyes," says Zhongli, placing a kiss on each lid.
Ajax wriggles out from under him with a laugh. "Hey, what's all this now? Feeling sentimental this morning?" Downing the glass of water left out on the bedside table, he stretches his legs out the side of the bed, then gets to his feet and crosses the room, stopping at the window overlooking the karst.
Ajax eclipses the morning sun, highlighting his muscular form, and Zhongli considers it a very, very positive thing that Cloud Retainer seems to have skipped her morning flight around the karst today.
Ajax stretches again, oblivious to shame or modesty. "Big day today. Ah, a glorious battle awaits us, I can feel it!"
As Ajax begins his routine of morning stretches, Zhongli takes a brief moment to indulge in the patch of warmth and the scent left in Ajax's wake, not yet wishing to move, although aware he cannot remain in this moment of domestic bliss forever.
Dragging himself from the bed, Zhongli follows Ajax to the window, winding his arms around him and kissing the shell of his ear. "Indeed, I am certain you shall find the battle you seek. But before we depart, how would you feel if I were to tell you I have a small gift for you?"
"A gift for me? How much of my money did you spend on it this time?"
"It is a gift unable to be assigned a material value."
Ajax braces himself on the windowsill. "Please don't tell me you cleared out the entire account."
"It cost no mora, that I promise."
"Huh." Visibly relaxing, Ajax leans into the embrace, turning his head with an eyebrow raised. "Now you've piqued my interest."
"Go and sit on the bed." Zhongli releases him and steps back. "Close your eyes and do not open them until I am ready."
Ajax does as he's told, hands tucked on his lap and eyes scrunched shut. It's remarkably reminiscent of a child waiting for a birthday present, and a nervous excitement flashes through Zhongli now that the time to offer his gift has come. He trusts Ping and trusts her craftsmanship, and hopefully Ajax too shall appreciate what it means to be presented with such an item.
Resisting the urge to kiss Ajax on his crinkled nose, Zhongli crosses the room to the wardrobe, opening it to reach into the back corner where Ping informed him that Ajax's gift should be hidden. He makes contact with a package, wrapped in simple paper and tied with string, and takes it out, setting it on the floor and summoning a geo knife to slice the knot.
The paper peels open, unfurling like a bud in spring, revealing the sleek, grey fabric folded neatly within. Slices of red cut through the design, and Zhongli unfolds it carefully, setting the garment on his lap and stroking along the silky seams. He slips his hands inside the hood, rounding it out and running his fingers across the velvet lining, a deep maroon that will cast an alluring shadow across Ajax's features.
It will be stunning, that is for certain, but will Ajax like it?
Zhongli gets to his feet, letting the cloth unravel to its full length, and stands in front of Ajax, looping his fingers through the shoulders and holding it up to his frame.
"What're you up to?" Ajax grins and bites his lip, keeping his eyes obediently closed. "I can hear you're up to something."
"I am done. You may look now."
The moment seems to last for an eternity. Might this gift be too presumptuous? Has he acted egotistically in his attempt to uplift Ajax? Mentally steeling himself, Zhongli rubs his thumbs against the fabric and waits.
Ajax opens his eyes. There's a pause as he takes in the entirety of his gift, then his eyes widen as he rises to his feet like a ghost. "Zhongli, this is..."
"This is for you, as the one who will be leading this expedition."
"No way, this is..." Ajax runs his fingers down the fabric and rubs his eyes, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Do you like it?" asks Zhongli, four words which exponentially intensify the jumble of nerves dancing behind his heart. "If it is not to your taste..."
"No, no, I love it, it's just— Is this really okay? I've seen this in books when I was looking up the whole Rite of Descension thing... This is yours."
Partially correct. The design bears many similarities—the shape of the cut, the bared arms, the oversized hood—but this is not his. This design is not cut from fabrics of snow-white and ichor-gold, but from slate grey and vibrant red, running through the folds like rivers of blood, and the back is embroidered with a symbol of hydro to reflect its intended recipient.
"My own is still in my possession. This is yours, Ajax."
"You still have yours? Huh, I'll be holding onto that image." Sliding his hands behind the fabric, pulling it forward to examine the form, Ajax shakes his head. "But this—I can't... I can't accept this. This is too much."
"Did you say the same when accepting your Harbinger uniform? It is much the same, as the one who shall be leading us today."
"This is different. I love it, really, it's just...a lot."
The way he caresses each curve of the fabric makes it obvious enough that Ajax wants to accept. Zhongli also wishes for him to accept; Ajax will wear this well, and it would be a blessing above any other to see him in it.
A small offer to sweeten the deal.
"Then I have a proposal." Zhongli leans in to whisper against Ajax's ear, "If you wear yours today, I shall wear mine tonight."
Ajax makes a hard choking sound and snatches the robe from Zhongli. "Wait there. I'll be back in a minute. And I'm holding you to this one!" Then he darts out of the room, and from down the hallway, the bathroom door clicks shut.
Zhongli waits.
With nothing else to do, he gets dressed, makes the bed, then waits some more.
He paces the room, wringing his hands in front of him, feeling as unsteady as a cliff about to plunge into a landslide, and adjusts his cuffs.
Why is Ajax taking so long? Is he having trouble? Should he offer his assistance?
He's about to go and find out for himself, when the bathroom lock slides open and Ajax's footsteps pad down the hallway to the bedroom door.
The door opens.
"So, how do I look?" Ajax enters the room, holding his arms out for Zhongli's inspection with a wink. The robe sits perfectly on his frame, a testament to Ping's craft, his toned arms revealed from the shoulders, and he wears the hood up, casting the shadow across his face that Zhongli had imagined so well.
Zhongli takes a sharp breath. Dangerous but refined, elegant yet raw and wild, he looks...he looks...
"You look sublime. You are..." The words catch in the back of Zhongli's throat and he fails to force them out. This is Ajax, his Ajax, who has fought and who has overcome and who can still stand here smiling like this, ready to lead them all into the depths of the Abyss.
His Ajax. His dear Ajax.
For when the day ends and the night takes hold, it is the moon which takes over the sun's lead, lighting the way through the underworld, illuminating the path where the sun's rays cannot reach.
"Aww, don't look at me like that, I'll start thinking I've put it on upside down if you keep making that face!" teases Ajax, and when Zhongli can only offer him half a smile in return, Ajax closes the distance between them, pulling Zhongli into a deep embrace. "Hey, come here. Don't go getting all sentimental on me now, we still have some Abyss butts to kick."
"That we do." Zhongli slots against him, his voice stabilising under the security of Ajax standing strong against him. "And you shall lead us all excellently."
Ajax makes a satisfied huff, guiding Zhongli into a brief kiss, soft and sweet. "I'll give it everything I've got. I'll do you proud—that's a promise, and I always keep my promises. Now, let's finish getting ready. A grand battle awaits us!"
* * *
Before they leave, Zhongli finds that one final letter has arrived:
My dearest Zhongli,
It gladdens me to hear that Tartaglia has settled in well to the life you have offered him. A life of comfort and idleness is ill-suited to most of my children, perhaps Tartaglia the most of all, and that he can be of use to an old friend is only a further boon.
Regarding your personal sentiments regarding the boy, please do not be concerned of where my judgement may fall. All of us hold the titles bestowed upon us for good reason, and it comes with no surprise that your feelings have resolved as they have. Although Tartaglia must remain under my command for the present, once the contracts forged into fate come to pass, I hope that we shall be able to speak more officially regarding the future arrangement of Tartaglia's allegiance.
On related matters, it has come to my attention that the tides of fate may soon be lapping upon Tartaglia's shores. When that time comes, I am hoping that you will have resolved matters enough for him to play his part, or the stage we have long endeavoured to set may yet see the forfeit of its grand opening, a measure that we all can ill-afford.
As always, I look forward to hearing any updates you may have to share.
Your faithful friend,
The Tsaritsa
Her Majesty, Archon of Snezhnaya
* * *
Although Ajax's outfit earns a few inquisitive looks from the adepti (save for Ping, who oohs and ahhs over him as though cooing over a grandson on his first day at school), Zhongli's glowing praise soon ushers in their acceptance, and they set off along the path to the forest. Ajax leads the way, Zhongli a few paces behind, and the rest of the adepti follow by land or by sky, Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper's wings beating rhythmically overhead.
Ajax radiates authority, his robe floating behind as he marches forth with his mouth fixed in a line, and as much as Zhongli wishes to take his hand as they walk, he remains behind, letting Ajax lead.
When they reach the river Ajax pulls the water into a bridge for the landbourne among them to cross. However, Zhongli opts to form his own bridge of stone, not feeling particularly trusting of the water following The Dunking Incident.
They reach the forest after a walk that Zhongli can only describe as a military march, but the group is allowed no respite. Ajax instructs them to draw their weapons and keep their guard up before summoning his own blades, and then they venture inside, the shroud of tree cover feeling even more oppressive than the previous time.
This is where the end begins. This is the day Ajax will be saved, or—
This is the day Ajax will be saved.
Despite repeating this to himself more times than he can count, an insidious crawling sensation creeps through Zhongli's veins. Ajax walks ahead of him with a step that is all too rigid, twitching when a leaf falls from above to brush against his shoulder.
Something is wrong.
Pressing ahead through the vines clawing at his ankles to walk at Ajax's side, Zhongli ensures he's well within Ajax's periphery before clearing his throat.
Ajax glances at him out of the corner of his eye. "Zhongli. Is everything alright with the others?"
"Yes, thank you. Is everything alright with you?"
"Never better, and soon my blade will be driven into the skull of whatever our adversary turns out to be, and I will stand triumphant in victory."
The words don't ease his anxiety, but Zhongli attempts to sound sufficiently relieved. "Then I am glad to hear that your spirits remain high, even as our foe draws ever closer."
This time, Ajax's gaze lingers on him longer and he bumps against Zhongli, shoulder to shoulder. "Hey, it'll be fine. They cannot hope to stand against us."
Zhongli leans into the all too brief contact and nods. When the battle comes, he shall put his personal worries aside and act in accordance with the unfeeling professionality that a mask of stone decrees, but for now, before the spotlights are directed upon the stage he shall allow himself the space to hold concern for the one he loves.
It is a performance he is all too familiar with.
The rest of the walk passes peacefully, Zhongli and Ajax's earlier efforts leaving little to no Abyssal forces patrolling in the area, and they arrive to find the portal as they left it, lingering ominously in the sky, staring down the group of intruders as they file into its holding pen, sealed edges pulsing hungrily.
Tartaglia peels away from Zhongli, seeking out a rock of significant height and hopping atop it, waiting for the group to crowd around him before addressing them.
"Friends, today is the day we venture into the Abyss and extinguish the source of the forces which have been lingering too close to our home."
The adepti listen attentively, and this time Zhongli has to offer no prompt or reassurance for their eyes to remain fixed on Tartaglia, who paces the short length of the rock. He continues to instruct them, filling in the details of all that he had seen on his recent foray into the depths—the oozing mud, the malformed monstrosities, the yawning chasms with no end to their depths, with only a brutal, eternal fall to greet any unlucky enough to fall inside—gesturing with his weapons to illustrate each macabre point.
"And lastly"—Tartaglia pauses to regard them steadily— "remember that the Abyss has eyes and ears everywhere. Once we enter, you can consider nothing you say to be private, so remain ever vigilant in your choice of words. You are all aware of the arrangements for this mission; there's no need to blabber them out loud. Any misplaced slip of where we plan to be is a tool for our enemy to use against us, and we cannot allow them a single advantage." He pauses, for what is presumably dramatic effect. "But enough warnings, comrades. Now is the time for us to act. Are we ready to destroy our foes from within?" Tartaglia accompanies his words with a forceful pump of his arm, sunlight glinting off his blade, and the adepti nod and murmur their agreement. "Are we ready to eliminate those who have lingered close to our home for too long, spreading their dark influence into our soil?"
Another round of affirming chatter.
"And finally, are we ready to sever their heads from their necks to paint the floors and walls of the Abyss with their blood, signalling our triumph to any foe who might yet consider standing before us in attempt to halt our march to victory?" Tartaglia punches the air, looking quite pleased with himself.
This time the adepti exchange a set of concerned looks accompanied by a few nervous glances in Zhongli's direction, before assenting with reticent nods.
Tartaglia arranges the adepti into two groups—he, Cloud Retainer, Ping, and Zhongli will travel in one group, while Xiao shall lead the remainder of them. The groups are to split up, search for the source of the evil, and then reconvene at the entrance after having discovered their foe, or failing that, having taken ten separate turns through the tunnels so as not to wander for longer than is wise.
With the adepti confirming their understanding and rousing speeches complete, he leaves them to ready themselves and hops down from his platform to join Zhongli, twirling his weapons and bouncing on his toes, his body alight with energy.
"So, wasn't that a speech for the ages? Even got you out of having to lead anyone around, O Great Retired One." He bumps his shoulder boisterously against Zhongli and flashes a manic grin. "I can feel the upcoming battle in the air—it's going to be a good one, I know it."
"Ajax." Zhongli lowers his voice and places a hand on his shoulder, which shivers beneath Zhongli's touch.
"What?"
Zhongli tuts, but can't hold back a smile. "Calm. There is a long day ahead of us yet."
"And I'm going to use it to drive my blade into some Abyss skulls," retorts Ajax, but he settles slightly, standing closer to Zhongli and lowering his voice. "You as ready for this as I am?"
"I am prepared, yes. But might I add one further point before we depart and must watch our words more carefully?"
"Sure, what's up?"
To keep his words private between them alone, Zhongli leans in, lowering his voice. "Please keep yourself safe. If anything were to happen to you under my watch, I would bear the weight of such a burden forever after."
Caught somewhere between Ajax and Tartaglia, his beloved makes a strained noise and bumps against him again, fingers finding Zhongli's forearm to offer a brief yet comforting touch. "No burdens, Zhongli, we will walk away from this day victorious." He pulls away, giving Zhongli a confident nod, and turns back toward the adepti. "Now, let's go. We have some Abyss skulls to kick."
* * * * *
Author's Note: Wheee 3 chapters to go with the grand Abyss finale to come!
I don't have much to say this week other than thanks to Tanit for betaing!
If you want to follow for updates and (sometimes) WIPs, you can find me mainly on Twitter, but I also have Tumblr and Bluesky.