Chapter Text
Zhongli found himself quite intrigued by the man in front of him.
He was the Eleventh of the Harbingers, the Tsaritsa’s prized weapon, in the flesh. Well regarded for his tales of bloodshed and chaos, being promoted from a mere foot soldier to a lieutenant in a measly year and a half, quickly climbing the bloody ladder of the Fatui.
Zhongli had agreed when the Cyro Archon first suggested using her youngest for the job, seeming perfect for the job- he had readied himself to make sure that the man, while causing the chaos needed for his test, would bring no malicious harm to his people. If he chose to do so after the contract was fulfilled well… he was ready to smite him down.
He’s old enough to know not to believe rumours so baselessly, so he wished to assess and monitor the Harbinger himself. The Tsaritsa was quick to make up some meeting for his civilian identity and Tartaglia, and he was free to do as he willed with it.
The man, however, was… different from his expectations. While he cannot exactly say the rumours running wild around him were incorrect… but he cannot say they were wholly true either. The man was chaotic and insane (and bloodthirsty) however… Zhongli feigned a sip, hiding a wince behind his teacup. He really didn’t expect it in this way.
Tartaglia- or Childe as was the codename he chose, ‘Young Lord’, quite accurate to his demeanour- was energetic. The youth was rather pretty with orange hair contrasting his pale skin, muttered with freckles. Had he based it purely on looks he would have struggled to believe this youth was truly a ferocious Harbinger and not some pampered youngest son of a Lord struggling to pick up a piece of meat with chopsticks. He was truly manhandling those chopsticks. Offhandedly, though more out of a need to stop seeing that horrible, horrible chopstick technique, Zhongli showed the boy some pointers.
Childe had almost managed to match the amount of food Zhongli ate despite the spearheaded chopstick use, together they put around 50 plates. The talk was rapidly becoming aimless as he, as always, got distracted in his memories and random facts, though Childe seemed not to mind. Zhongli found himself pleasantly surprised as he enjoyed his first meeting with Master Childe. All in all, it had been going great except for, well-
Childe gently placed the porcelain dish in front of a rock with a wide, cheerful smile.
“For you Pyotr!”
He was talking to the rock. He was trying to feed the rock.
‘Pyotr’ was a normal rock. Zhongli checked, as the lord of geo, he can tell you that that is an average rock. Not sentient like himself, no, and certainly not something precious like a Noctilucous Jade, or Cor Lapis, but rather a common sedimentary rock, one of the many that made up the layer of stone that lay under his feet.
Childe looked back at him and then the rock and grew sheepish- thank goodness the man realized his odd behaviour, Zhongli wasn’t the only one seeing how odd it was. Surely he will have a good explanation for this. Zhongli nodded to himself and lifted his tea for another sip, but mostly to hide his face of pure confusion.
“Sorry, I should have introduced you two!! I am such a bad host!” Childe laughed nervously, “This is Pyotr! My best friend!”
Zhongli was glad he wasn’t truly a mortal at that moment, for if he was he was sure he would have choked.
Slowly putting down his tea cup with a clink, “Hello Pyotr,” Zhongli said staring down at the blank rock.
For the oddest of reasons, the rock gave off the weirdest vibe. If he wasn’t 100% certain it was an inanimate rock he’d say the rock- Pyotr- was judging him.
Childe broke out into an ecstatic grin, an open expression that made his face look less dead, at the interaction, “You’re so polite, Mister Zhongli!!”
Childe turned to Pyotr and stared at it silently but with the same equally listening face he made when Zhongli went on one of his tangents, except this time it was towards the rock.
The silence got increasingly awkward as it went on and Zhongli found himself, for the first time in many years, fidgeting.
Zhongli opened his mouth to get his conversation partner back to the moment but before he could Childe abruptly turned back towards him happily, “Pyotr thinks you're cool! He likes your rock facts!”
Zhongli let himself idly ramble about rock’s properties as his conversation partner(s?) eyed him with interest while he tried to mentally figure out what was happening.
Zhongli found himself triple-checking but the facts remained unchanged, there was no trickster lying within this rock as a vessel, it was just an ordinary rock. Though he can’t rule out Master Childe being a trickster himself, yet. Or perhaps an impressive seal, one he’d have to check to be certain.
After the fifth side glance at the ordinary rock Zhongli couldn’t help himself, “So, how did you and Pyotr meet?”
Childe’s grin grew softer and the man positively exuded happy vibes, “Mister Zhongli is really something else! Everyone else is always so mean to poor Pyotr… hmmm let’s see, it's a great story full of violence!”
-
The boy, not yet Childe, not yet Tartaglia, was far, far from home.
He was lost and confused and so painfully small compared to the threats of this strange new place.
Every turn was full of monsters and gore. He had a toy sword, but that had broken in two during his first encounter with the monsters.
They kept getting closer and closer as he ran and ran.
Something managed to tear at him, its long claws desperate to rip into him, its large maw desperate to take a bite out of him.
The boy was far, far, from home and growing tired. There wasn’t much longer he could run.
Much like the way he tripped and fell into this place, the boy tripped and fell yet again to his doom.
’Please !’ he thought, as his body failed him, ‘ I don’t want to die !’
Pit Pat said the water droplets falling from the stalagmites.
Pit Pat said his tears, as they fell down his face.
He clenched his eyes shut, hoping his death would be quick.
Pit Pat said the rock as it fell from the roof.
The rock, tiny like the boy, hit the monster. The monster growled and ran.
The boy gasped, and reverently picked up the rock, “You saved me.”
-
“And then some random white haired lady appeared.”
Zhongli put on his most sympathetic face, the face he typically reserved for the grieving, to mask his thoughts, “That must have been very frightening for a young boy.”
Childe scratched his cheek awkwardly, “Eh? Not really! I had Pyotr.”
You know, when they said Tartaglia is the most insane Harbinger, he didn’t exactly imagine this. Somehow, Tartaglia seems the type to be woefully unaware of the chaos he brings. It’s as useful as it is endearing.
“That’s nice, Master Childe,” Zhongli remembered his own times of horror and grief as well as the loneliness that accompanied it, “It’s always nice to have company during hard times.”
Childe seems to have taken this as a declaration, as his eyes lit up, “Then think of this as a meal of friendship! I’ll pay myself.”
“Don’t worry about it, as I said, I’ll-” Zhongli froze as he was about to say pay, feeling around his pocket in case he remembered his wallet for once, “Ah…”
Xiangling noticed his rapid blush and walked over, “Mister Zhongli! Do I need to send an invoice to the Funeral Parlour again?”
“Again?”
“Mister Zhongli forgets his wallet all the time!” Xiangling giggled as Zhongli did his daily wishing to join the dirt below him in shame.
Zhongli sighed and gracefully slammed his head against the table. At least his humiliation cannot get any worse.
Pyotr, who was still sitting on the table, went flying and hit the wall and then another, and another.
Someone yelped and everyone else ducked as Pyotr hit something.
The something was a bag of mora that fell directly into Xiangling’s hand before landing back on the table infront of them.
And then a pair of some poor customers sunglasses fell ontop of Pyotr, making him exude sudden coolness.
“Oh my!” Xiangling cried in amazement, “The rock paid for you guys!”
“Pyotr did it again!” cried Childe, “He’s such a cool and reliable friend!”
The entire restaurant then burst into cheers for this incredibly cool and gentleman-y rock who saved Zhongli (and Childe’s wallet).
“Whose wallet is this?” Zhongli wanted to return it to its rightful owner.
Everyone looked at him as if he was the crazy one.
“Pyotr’s! Duh!”
What?
Huh?
Zhongli in this one moment, truly cannot tell, if either he finally eroded enough to lose his sanity or if everyone else caught sudden onset mass hysteria.
And did he just get one-upped by a(n inanimate) rock?