**Update 1.1 Spoilers**
~~~
If Childe had the ability to sink into the floor or leap straight for Signora’s throat, he wasn’t sure which one sounded more pleasant in the moment. Both, if he had to guess.
The platinum blonde stood across from his desk, business not quite finished in Liyue as she waited for her boat. Smirking, tapping her feet, and methodically tracing her gloved fingernails across her arm, she waited for any sort of response out of the young Harbinger. Tip tap… the sound of her expectant heels across the marble floors of his private office at the bank seemed to trigger something beyond agitation in Childe.
Oh, how he wanted more than anything for her to vanish completely out of Liyue, with a preference leaning toward never having to cross paths with her as a coworker again. It was out of reach but, he could dream. To think that she had taken the boat back to Zapolyarny Palace but no… it was too good to be true.
“You can’t possibly expect me to believe this is real, do you?” Childe finally spoke, head shooting up to face her after reading the forsaken request, feeling his eye twitch in irritation as the letter in his hands crumpled violently.
Signora smirked, an irksome tilt of her red lips in victory. That was precisely the reaction she was hoping—and expecting—out of the Eleventh Harbinger. It was almost too easy to get under his skin, Signora wondered what more she could devise in order to stir the pot. The tall woman reveled in his misery, seeing him as nothing more than troublesome in her own vices to her missions ever since he was initiated into the Harbinger ranks. The sly woman savored his response and body language like a delicious bowl of Snezhnayan soup, downing the warm advantage with silent poise. She found a way to best him, a simple game of chess to turn the tides in the favor of the Tsaritsa and the entirety of the Fatui, perhaps.
The whites of his knuckles gripping the paper, then the desk, the clenched jaw, the slight vein and furrowed brows as he glared up at her from his seat was far too captivating for her. Oh yes, she would sleep well in the evening.
However, her goal was not simply to pick a fight with Tartaglia, no… she had much bigger plans in the grand scheme of things, even if that meant using him like the good little pawn he was under the guise of the Tsaritsa’s orders. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate—no. It was embellished, twisted in a crafty way ever so slightly in order to get a point across. The other Fatui were mindful of Childe’s ostensibly interesting motive to spend his free time with a certain golden-eyed, female Outlander, yet none dared question it nor bring it to attention. It was only when Signora noticed his own distracted behavior with her own eye that it was concerning. Multiple times, at that.
The absolute, sheer pining Signora witnessed from the poor boy. How romantic, she thought amusedly, yet with no semblance of warmth behind her frigid and unspoken thought.
When Tartaglia thought he was a step ahead of Signora, he often found himself knocked down in the dirt, cold and hard truth shoved directly down his throat at the facet that he was wrong, that he lost whatever silent, subconscious competition he was aiming for against the other Harbingers or adversaries he only wanted to beat and could never get along with.
The ginger did not forget her little charade with Zhongli—the bastard—so recently. He needed to blow off more steam, yet Childe didn’t know exactly how to go about it. All he knew was to fight and his secret escapades sparring with Fatui members on the side proved lackluster and unrewarding. He craved something deeper yet knew the complexity of the situation when it came to the individual that he wanted to have a rematch with, comparable to the way a young child wanted candy.
“Oh, deal with it, Tartaglia,” Signora sighed, rolling her eyes briefly and shifting her focus on a random pattern of wallpaper to her side. “I stayed an extra few evenings in this dull city just to babysit your insolent self. Now, let’s make it easier for me and agree that this is a direct order. One you cannot afford to ignore from Her Majesty.”
Signora’s expression shifted to one more of entertainment painted together with smugness, icy-colored eye still glinting with utmost confidence in her ability to hold the order over his head.
Childe seethed, staring intently at the floor next to where she stood. He ground his teeth, knuckles becoming sore in their death grip between his own grasp. He could not believe his fate; he could not believe it. Childe debated whether or not to force a smile, fake as a merchant’s allure of overpriced goods, in order to win favor with the Harbinger standing expectantly several feet away.
“How…,” he began carefully. He had to know. He absolutely had to know how she knew. Where the hell the letter came from. “How did you come to the conclusion that I, Tartaglia, would let such a weak Traveler such as Lumine dictate anything? You clearly underestimate my loyalties, La Signora.”
He leaned back in his chair, continuing before she could have a word in. “I must be quite honest with you: I didn’t expect such sheer suspicion coming from you. It’s nearly insulting—”
“—especially after the little stunt you pulled right in front of me not so long ago.”
“Get it over it. You are acting like the young brat you are. Ungrateful as always,” Signora conceded. “Let me make this clear: no one is safe from the prying eyes of the Fatui. Not even the Fatui themselves. So… what will it be? Shall I send the letter back to Her Majesty or will you be a good little boy and agree to court pretty Lumine?”
All of his doors of escape were shutting and vanishing before his very eyes.
Childe had no choice. In fact, he vehemently opposed the idea of courting Lumine, as per the letter dictated.
‘…A show of loyalty, as trusted sources within the ranks have informed me of your budding feelings towards this girl. In fact, word has spread quickly amongst my Harbingers and most of them know of this little rumor. Show me who she is. Gain her trust, court her, and then bring her to Snezhnaya so I may see for myself what power she may hold. I have been told a lot about what she is capable of and I am most curious. I am placing my trust in you, Tartaglia. Do not fail me.’
The letter was crumpled to the corner of his desk, yet the contents still looped within his mind like a violent wind current.
Childe sighed, defeated, anger and frustration still running rampant through his pulsing veins. The sheer idea of going against the letter, of letting La Signora send back his refusal was enough to drain his blood. The first notion that came to mind were his siblings, his family… he couldn’t do that to them. It was too great a risk. He refused to allow himself the privilege to delve deeper into the rabbit hole of unknowns. So, he shoved the thought to the side, locked and dissipated the key.
A burning wildfire raged within the young Tartaglia. Never had he felt so helpless. It was a foreign feeling, an invader that threatened to drive him madder and more neurotic than he typically was.
Lumine should have finished him off in the Golden House, he concluded, for it would have been a kind mercy that a man like him may not have deserved. Yet, in the moment, seating uncomfortable at his desk, he wanted nothing more for that reality to have transpired, no matter how recklessly dramatic it seemed.
“You needn’t concern yourself much longer,” Childe all but gritted, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips. “In fact, it could be up for debate that I am in fact, the most loyal Harbinger. So, take your leave now, Signora. The trip to Snezhnaya is a long one. Wouldn’t want to chip your nail polish now, would we?”
Ignoring his last chide, the blonde quickly smiled, sashaying her way out of his office in accomplishment—for the time being, that was. She was no idiot. The woman knew Childe could be unpredictable, a feat she learned to manipulate rather quickly due to his arrogance. Hired Fatui informants were bribed with an ample pay increase in order to be her eyes and ears while she was away.
With hand hovering over the handle, La Signora peered over her shoulder for one last, quick remark.
“You have one month, boy. Get to it.”
After the door clicked shut, Childe sat back in his seat, a flurry of emotions still swirling. Yet oddly enough, the sheer anger he felt moments ago had faded into something akin to anxiety. How in Archon’s name was he supposed to go about this? There was just—there was no way.
Childe was beyond overwhelmed, gripping his head in his hands and pushing flyaway pieces of messy locks back to reveal his crinkled forehead. Gloved fingers gripped tightly at his hair in a feeble attempt to steel himself.
…
…
Lumine was sure to kill him.
Perhaps, this time, he should let her.
~~~
Author’s Note:
I know I know lmao
I just posted my AO3 link to this multichapter fanfic but I just felt like posting it here too D:’
So, part/chapter 1 will ONLY be posted here! Any other updates will be posted to my AO3 account @ fortreveuse20
Basically, everyone wants Lumine, m’kay?