Chapter Text
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“Dearest Teucer, Anthon and Tonia.
This letter will probably find you after I’ve lived in China for weeks if not months by now, when in reality I’m writing this just after I’ve settled in my room, but I hope it finds you well - just as I hope haven’t melted by then, for the sun is unforgiving here.
Hopefully, you aren’t all missing me too much.
I have been a fool for not trusting you. In fact, just as I was travelling to China, I saw a huge dragon flying past the vast rice fields! He thought he was hiding successfully through the mist of the thick fog. You were right, they do exist: as a matter of fact, I suspect the Crown Prince, as they call him, is one of them; him and his family all wear motifs of clouds and flying serpents. Furthermore, the Emperor wouldn’t stop stabbing me with these sharp, snake-like eyes. I think he was suppressing the urge to hiss and incinerate me with fire all throughout the wedding ceremony.
Before you ask: No, Tonia, there was no kissing. Thank the Lord above, right? That intimidating dragon would’ve probably bitten my tongue off.
Fear not, however. As I told you, I’ve been trained well in case I need to fight off monsters, remember? Just as you will, one day. So, do not worry about me or my safety.
All said, remember to listen to our mother and father. Finish up your food so you can become as strong as me—or as close as you can be at least—and do all you can to learn more each day.
I wished to inform you that I’ve paired some candy they call “糖人” with this letter, but I know for certain that you’ve been munching it all this time whilst reading it.
Hopefully, I’ll get to bring you some in person next time.
Sincerely, your big brother Ajax.”
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Just as the piece of paper was carefully folded, a knock came to the door, immediately followed by a voice.
“Prince of the Northen Kingdom, you’re invited by the emperor to dine with his family,” announced the eunuch who had opened the door.
“Coming,” answered Ajax’s muffled voice as he was in the midst of licking the envelope closed, which caused the servant to look at him as if he had walked into the young man bare naked.
Ajax would end up dead by poison if he had a shot of vodka each time he had been glared at ever since he stepped his foot in China. He couldn’t get their concept of etiquette quite right, yet.
These people were stranger than he initially believed: castrating someone so they can gain employement in the Imperial service is viewed as a completely fair and humane tradition, but breathing too loudly will be easily viewed as rude.
Even now, walking through all these highly curated gardens, he wasn’t free to stop and observe the meticolous handiwork. No, he was constantly monitored and guided by servants and guards, surrounded like a criminal being brought to its cell.
Due to him being a foreigner, they didn’t trust him enough to leave him unsupervised since he habited the royal palace, there was no room for doubt about that. Soon, however, Ajax had realized everyone in the Forbidden City—so the palace was called due to its size—follows the same principle: there is no room in the first place. No room for wandering thoughts, for boredom, sponteinity, the enjoyement of meaningless activities. It was worse than the military.
For a place so warm, he couldn’t believe how cold it felt. He never believed commoners could’ve had a better life than royalty.
As he was guided to the dining room, still dressed in the uncomfortable layers of his wedding attire that sinched him tightly with a sash, he could feel just how stale the air was.
The room was beautifully grand yet dead silent, the eyes of the family fixed on him as he politely bowed to them. Without thinking, he stepped forward to take a seat beside his supposed husband, but a calm yet assertive voice thundered like the start of a intimidating storm, and it was enough to immediately stop him in his tracks.
“That is not your assigned seat,” bossed the Emperor dressed as yellow as a sun that burned so brightly it didn’t allow anything to grow, his hand raised in command.
“Ah. I sincerely apologize,” answered Ajax who swore felt his heart drop for a moment, letting one of the many eunuchs guide him to his lonely seat.
At least, the slight nod of the empress brought him some sense of comfort. She seemed kinder, or as kind as an empress could be here.
In Ajax’s eyes, Zhongli’s family seemed depressing and he couldn’t help but miss his own already. At his palace, dining together was a moment filled with chatter, laughter or even playful bickering. Meanwhile, all he could hear about now were occasional conversations about politics, responsibilities and continous criticisms about what Zhongli had done wrong throughout the day.
“You responded too promptly to Minister Xu. You must learn to be more patient even when you don’t necessarily agree,” the Emperor would calmly yet authoratively ramble, but the strangest thing of all was that Zhongli didn’t seem displeased or irritated by it. In actuality, he seemed to appreciate and listen to his words, contently sipping on his Silver Needle tea afterwards as if he hadn’t been just coldly dissected, as if this was another relaxing dinner with his family and not another strict cerimony.
In contrast to someone so well mannered and stately, the loud thunk of food falling from Ajax’s chopsticks made his cheeks grow as red as the hibiscus flowers in the garden.
“I apologize,” he excused himself after a pause of realization that everyone had noticed, trying not to chuckle like he usually would to diffuse these type of situations since that would seem inappropriate here.
He had learned that the hard way today.
“I’m still learning to use these.”
The sudden clammy hands of his were surely not helping.
“Perhaps starting with firmer sustenances such as meat will be best,” stated the empress, politely trying to bury the young man’s embarrassment.
Ajax swore he had seen a hint of a smirk across Zhongli’s lips that had been immediately put away before his parents could notice.
He must currently look like a clumsy child who is just learning how to eat, but at this point he was secretly glad he made a fool out of himself in front of the Crown Prince’s parents; at least he had confirmation he hadn’t been married to an unfeeling, distant creature, but rather a human who couldn’t help but be amused by a northen jester that doesn’t know how to eat.
The thought of purposefully continuing to act like a fool just to see if he would break had occured to him, but the importance of his duty here had stopped him in his course.
He had to seem capable in front of the emperor’s eyes. The whole point of this marriage was to make sure Moscovia could benefit from the Silk Road trade. His father counted on him to bring his homeland economic prosperity. Yet, considering he held no political influence as a consort if not indirectly, he had to work harder than he initially anticipated to gain the heir’s favor and, consequently, the Emperor’s.
Certainly, however, Zhongli wasn’t so different as one would think. He felt quite the relief when the moon began to shine bright in the nightly sky and claim the end of this strenous day, the tightness of his topknot and the prickles of the various golden hairpins finally removed to let his long hair bathe in the freedom.
He sighed as he stood in his lonely room, tense shoulders loosening and fingertips gently grazing a sophisticated box made from rosewood that had been hand painted with various figures of animals.
Finally, he decided it was good enough and walked out the room, his rosy lips parting to speak.
“Bring consort Ajax to me and tell him to bring the letter he has written, if he did.”
The stationed guards immediately nodded and bowed, marching off through the halls without daring to question.
Just when Ajax could finally relax and let the long day wash over him, sprawled across the bed as he attempted to ignore a pounding headache, another knock came to the door. Before he could even sit up or respond, of course, it had been opened already.
“Your Majesty is calling you to his chambers,” one of the guards informed him, pausing as they took a glance over the tunic embroided with red motifs the Northen Prince was wearing, which definitely wasn’t made by chinese hands. “He said to bring a letter,” he added, remaining professional and keeping the judgements to himself.
A groan couldn’t help but escape Ajax’s lips as he had gotten up, trying his best to fix up his unruly hair whilst he was brought away, making sure his eyes weren’t too groggy from tiredness whilst he was at it. A few slaps to his face certainly helped to wake him back up.
What helped the most, however, was the realization that the guards would stay out the room. For some reason, being alone with the heir made him incredibly uneasy. His heart pounded as the door was closed behind him as if he had been put in the cage of a tiger.
The color of Zhongli’s phoenix eyes as he turned around certainly supported that idea. Yet, Ajax’s attention was mostly caught by the long, white robe he was wearing and the surprising lenght of his chestnut hair. It was a huge juxtaposition from how overly adorned he had been throughout the day, his wedding dress layers upon layers of precious robes embroided with golden dragons, much more refined than Ajax’s to emphasize just of how greater of importance he was than his fresh new consort.
Not that Zhongli looked unkempt in his sleeping attire: in its simplicity, the lightweight silk seemed to flow like water around his body through every movement, the pure whiteness of it making him glow underneath the moonlight that shined through the windows.
Appropriate for the Son of Heaven, as he one day will become.
“Huh, and there I thought you would wear extravagant gowns and updos even in your sleep,” Ajax jested bluntly.
However, the joke wasn’t received well. Zhongli blinked silently at the unexpected comment, not responding.
“Ah,” Ajax’s dark blue eyes moved their attention to the Crown Prince’s puzzled expression, realizing that the latter was solemn and ceremonial even in a private setting. “I’m just joking, please forgive me, in my homeland it is viewed charming and amusing to make these comments,” he sighed in defeat. “It’s difficult to let go of old habits, isn't it?"
Zhongli didn’t take offense, especially seeing the consort awkwardly scratching the back of his neck, clearly abashed and exhausted of keeping up with a different world. If anything, he found his personality quite pure, for lack of a better word.
“It is fine,” he said. “My father had warned me of how you come from a culture that is more—”
He paused, trying to find a different, more flattering adjective than the one his father had used.
“—Barbaric?” Ajax huffed a laugh.
“No, that is not what I—“
Ajax sniggered, again. “You can relax, I’m not offended by it. I mean, we russians are not imbeciles, but I understand our loud and direct personality might be seen as primative compared to yours.”
Zhongli visibly untensed, though it was clear he couldn’t fully relax and let go of his learned manners yet. He wished to continue chatting about their differences, eyeing the embroidery of his tunic in curiosity, but alas stopped himself as he remembered why he had called the consort to his bedroom in the first place.
“I apologize if I called you so late, but I wished to show you something.”
That certainly piqued Ajax’s interest. Quietly, he stepped forward, trying to peer behind the Crown Prince’s shoulder who clearly didn’t expect the close proximity, though he managed to stay unbothered .
“I think this box would be appropriate to ship the candy to your younger siblings, as you said you wished to do. The sugar figurines are delicate, but this should keep them fresh and intact.”
The Northen Prince was far more distracted by the adorable, painted animals that perfectly embodied the creatures the candies were shaped as rather than the technicalities of shipping food. Clearly, they couldn’t be a coincidence.
“Did you paint these yourself?” he wondered, impressed and unable to stop himself from carefully taking the box from Zhongli’s hands, tracing the handiwork himself with interest.
Zhongli calmly replied, politely tucking his hands together as he let Ajax check it out. “Yes, of course.”
The latter could just imagine the look on his sibling’s faces as they would see this adorable box and open it to discover candy animals inside, so he couldn’t help but smile fondly.
“That is very thoughtful of you. My siblings will certainly love this and treasure it, especially Tonia.”
Perhaps it was because he had never heard someone compliment him with such a genuine tone of appreciation, but Zhongli swore he felt his heart flutter contently, which had never happened before.
“... You’re welcome,” he calmly replied, attempting to shake off any unwanted feelings.
This gesture was mostly made just to reinforce the alliance between the two empires, to be positively viewed by the Tsar of Moscov, simple duty taken care of in accordance of a contract that had been stipulated between their fathers, nothing else.
Just then, however, something came over him.
“Do you wish to learn how to use chopsticks?” he blurted out, unable to hold himself back with the Northen Prince’s struggle, like a stain he simply couldn’t help but wash off even if he hadn’t caused it in the first place.
“Chopsticks?” Ajax blinked, snapping out of his thoughts, especially of how much he missed home already. “Ah… I did make a fool out of myself this evening, didn’t I?” he softly chuckled.
He was about to decline, informing Zhongli that scholars were specifically assigned to ‘civilize’ him—to quote them—but he could discern a certain eager glint or spark in the Prince’s eyes that he couldn’t find the strenght to put out.
He could imagine just how bored this young man was of being the heir, following the same routine each day.
Sympathy. That’s what Ajax felt. He couldn’t imagine having no siblings at all.
“It would be quite kind of you, your Highness.”
As if that was enough to motivate him, Zhongli walked over to grab a smaller yet equally beautiful box.
“You can take a seat there. However, I do not have any food to offer you. We’ll have to play pretend.”
Ajax was serenely seated, smiling at the ironic thought of being taught how to use utensils, but it was all replaced by the same nervous tension he had felt stepping inside this room once those soft hands manuevered the way he held the pair of chopsticks.
His skin was tender and pleasant on his callouses. It made the light and ginger hair on his arms perk up as if they were also desperate to be touched.
“At first you should hold it as if you were to write a letter to your siblings. Then, you support the second chopstick, resting it in the web of your thumb and your ring finger like this,” he would hush under his breath with surprising softness, every touch careful and gentle as if the Northen Prince was made of porcelain.
Perhaps it was because Zhongli suddenly sat beside him, or the difference in his demeanor that put him on high alert, but Ajax’s heart was thumping in his chest like a war drum.
“Your hands are quite clammy, so it might be difficult to practice the pinching motion, but you should try,” he stated, golden eyes casually looking into him.
“I haven’t grown accostumed to the weather here.”
He was lying… Partly.
“It is easier to use them this way rather than whatever I was doing back there though, that’s for sure,” he said as he took hold of various clatter across the table, even if inexpertly so, like a baby bird learning to use its beak for the first time.
Most importantly, focusing on this motion rather than being forced to notice every hue in Zhongli’s eyes brought him some relief.
To be fair, the latter had put quite the distance between them for courtesy, Ajax was the one being strangely disarmed by the slightest proximity, and even he was confused about his reaction.
He had no idea what would cause it, especially since people could hardly intimidate him no matter how strong they seemed, but he couldn’t handle looking at Zhongli’s face for too long.
Still, it wasn’t the type of agitation that would make him wary of a threat, keep him distant and defensive. On the contrary, he felt like a tide being pulled closer by the moon.
It troubled him.
He didn’t like not knowing things. He wished to immediately figure this out, so he couldn't help but drown in his thoughts as he practiced with lackluster results.
Suddenly, however, the contemplative silence was broken.
“I should leave you to sleep,” Zhongli commented upon noticing just how quiet Ajax had suddenly gotten, staring at the chopsticks mindlessly. “You seem exhausted. I won’t keep you any longer.”
He sounded almost disappointed, curling inside itself like a hedgehog. Ajax couldn’t help but perceive the hint of loneliness in his voice. He shouldn’t care, for he wasn’t here to make friends, but it made his heart pang with pity.
Still, he was absolutely right and couldn't find the strenght to rebuke. He had quite the day.
“Right,” he groggily got up. "You must be exhausted too."
“You can place the letter inside the wooden box. I’ll make sure it is delivered tomorrow morning,” Zhongli lastly added, still attempting to hide how he wished, deep down, that this foreign man would keep him company.
Hearing that brought a slight smile across Ajax’s face as a mischevious idea came to mind.
He handed him the letter at first, but just as the Crown Prince was about to grab it he pulled it away, leaving him to grasp air.
“No need to place more assignments upon your shoulders. You’ve already been kind enough to me,” the Northen Prince affirmed, placing the envelope inside the box. “I’ll handle it.”
Left with no words, Zhongli simply stared at Ajax open the door.
“Goodnight, your Highness,” Ajax wished him softly, giving him one final glance before leaving him there, door gently clicking close.
Well, Ajax was full of surprises, that was for certain. He behaved completely differently from everyone who lived in the Forbidden City. If that would be for better or for worse... Well, Zhongli wasn't quite sure.
A breath he was holding escaped his lips in attempt of getting rid of a heavy mountain suddenly standing on his chest, just as he attempted to move on from what happened to head to sleep.
Before putting away the chopsticks, however, he couldn’t help but stroke them tenderly as if attempting to embroid the memories into his skin.