Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Tonia! Don't forget to wipe your feet at the door, and wash your hands and face before lunch! I'm making your favourite pie."

Childe called out as he heard the door to their home swing open, and the shuffling sound of his baby sister's footsteps as she returned home. The smell of the delicious pork potpie he was baking wafted out of the kitchen.

Childe placed the pan in the oven, and moved to the sink to wash his hands thoroughly. He paused, when Tonia didn't answer his call.

Something wasn't right. Why wasn't his usually chirpy little sister skipping to wash her hands in a hurry just so she could get in the kitchen quickly and smell his cooking? Why were her feet shuffling when she'd entered the house, instead of her usual jaunty brisk footsteps? And why hadn't she answered him?

Why... why did he hear the sound of muffled sobs?

Childe removed his apron and ran out to find Tonia huddled on the sofa, having removed her shoes, face buried in her lap and trembling with silent sobs.

He carefully knelt on the ground in front of his little sister, and ran a hand lovingly over her ginger braids.

"Tonia, what happened?" He murmured, voice low and gentle.

The little girl lifted her head, nose and eyes red with sobbing. It was clear that she'd been crying all the way home, from the dried streaks of tears on her pale cheeks.

"I.... I.... sorry...."

Childe tilted his head with a light and easy smile, so as to not upset her further. "Sorry for what?"

It was then that he noticed the faint white line circling her thin, bare wrist. A wrist that had been adorned just that morning with a delicate bracelet of pure gold, inlaid with precious cor lapis. It had been a gift from Childe, he'd had it specially crafted in Liyue and had brought it all the way home.

Tonia could no longer restrain her tears, as the story of why her wrist was bare poured out of her, interspersed with sobs and stammers.

"I.... I know.... I know you told me.... told me to be careful with it.... I tried! I tried.... it's my fault... all my fault... I wanted.... I wanted to wear it.... it was so.... so pretty....."

Childe pulled out a handkerchief and wiped her nose and tears, getting up and sitting next to her, patiently listening to the whole story.

Tonia had gone to attend a musical concert with one of her closest friends who stayed in a neighbouring town, a 30 minute ride away by train. She'd been eager to wear the bracelet and look her best.

On the journey back, she'd been careful to remove the bracelet and keep it in her bag, slung across her shoulder. At one of the stops, she'd glanced in her bag to grab a bottle of water, only to find it open and see the bracelet missing. A few other items of low value were also missing, such as stray candies, a hair tie, a lip gloss, a small pouch of loose mora - but the bracelet stood out in its glaring absence.

After frantically searching around, it became obvious that she'd been targeted by a skilful, discreet thief, who'd taken the valuable gift and disembarked the train at the earliest possible.

And now the bracelet was gone.

Childe drew his sister into a comforting hug. "There there, let it all out. It's ok to cry. A lot could have gone wrong, you could have been hurt or maimed, but it's only a bracelet that went missing."

"But... but that bracelet - "

"It's a valuable lesson learnt, Tonia. I'll buy you another one, I promise, but you have to promise me to be more careful about where you take it and how you store it."

He kissed her forehead, as she nodded, sobbing still.

He grabbed the handkerchief and wiped her nose again. "Now, come help me remove that pie from the oven. You must be hungry."

After lunch, Tonia took a bath and went to bed. The ordeal of being robbed of her most precious possession, the guilt of not being able to prevent it, had left her both physically and emotionally exhausted.

Nothing Childe said would make her feel better, neither the promises to buy her another bracelet, nor the reassurance that he wasn't angry with her. She couldn't bring herself to feel grateful that she hadn't been physically attacked, she couldn't bring herself to see some mythical silver lining. She wished with all her heart to be able to go back in time and prevent herself from making such a grievous mistake, and felt utterly helpless. Finally, she fell asleep.

Childe took a bath himself, soaking in the hot water, alone with his thoughts.

He'd had firsthand experience of how ineffective the authorities could be when crimes were reported. Childe himself exerted tremendous influence as a harbinger, but he'd seen how those with less power and status could not afford the luxury of having authorities care about the misfortunes which befell them.

He also remembered when a neighbour of his had had her cow stolen. Despite the animal being insured, despite being shown the police report for theft, despite there being witnesses of the incident - the insurance agents had flatly refused to cover the loss, citing that they had no way of verifying that she hadn't just hired someone and set up the incident to make a false insurance claim.

No, there was no way Childe would be able to work within the bounds of the law when dealing with cases like this. The law would in fact restrict and inhibit him.

Well, first things first. It was unlikely that he'd ever recover the bracelet - whoever had taken it would have surely melted it at the first opportunity, and likely had friends who moved quickly. No criminal in their right mind would try to sell a very recognisable gold bracelet with Tonia's name inscribed on it.

But what was certain beyond a doubt was that the thieves very likely would operate in that same area periodically, on the train route from the concert venue to the station nearest their home, and prey on vulnerable people who weren't careful with their belongings. Having had success with robbing his little sister, they very likely had marked down the spot as one where there was a high probability of vulnerable targets.

Had this been anyone other than a baby sibling, Childe would have assigned one of his innumerable fatui subordinates to track down and make quick work of the criminals - but this was Tonia. He was going to take care of this himself.

*********************

It wasn't difficult to procure a disguise - which was good because a disguise was necessary. Childe was highly recognisable as not only a harbinger, but an absurdly popular and strong one at that. Opting for a large hat that concealed his hair and the upper half of his face, and a coat with a high collar that covered the lower half of his face, he was ready to spy. In Snezhnayan weather it wasn't unusual to be bundled up in this manner.

He traversed the route obsessively for the next couple of days, observing everything he could while making himself as inconspicuous as possible, taking breaks only once in a while. Till he noticed a couple of shifty men who boarded the train everyday and disembarked at the same time like clockwork.

To anyone else they seemed unremarkable civilians, but to Childe's highly trained instincts, it was glaringly obvious how suspicious they were. Childe too didn't at all behave like an officer of the law, hence he wasn't on their radar at all.

He watched from under the brim of his hat as they discreetly rifled through an elderly man's pockets, with him being none the wiser. They had definitely got pickpocketing down to an art form.

As the train rolled into the next station, the two men plucked the elderly passenger's pocketbook from his coat, and quickly disembarked, smooth and sneaky as the ferrets trained by treasure hoarders. Unluckily for them, Childe disembarked as well, from a different exit, keeping a safe distance from them.

He recognised this platform as one where some trains made habitual stops, but which was otherwise deserted and in almost complete disuse.

Childe made a note of their physical appearances. One of them had a taller, sturdier build. The other was shorter, leaner, and wore a mask covering the lower half of his face. Both were undoubtedly treasure hoarders, he had come across many such scoundrels masquerading as civilians.

The men waited on the deserted platform, hands tucked into their pockets, biding their time till the train rolled away, leaving them to their devices. Hardly had they verified that they were alone, than the shorter of them turned excitedly toward the other.

"Give it to me," he said impatiently, grabbing the worn leather pocketbook and rifling through it.

"Anything of interest, Viktor?" The taller man peeked curiously over his shoulder.

The shorter man, who appeared to be called Viktor, grunted in annoyance, thumbing through the pocket book. "Tickets... medicines... photos of some stupid kids.... some loose mora.... a receipt from a toy shop.... useless."

He pocketed the mora and then flung the pocketbook with the rest of its contents back onto the train tracks in a fit of frustration. The taller man watched as the old leather fell into the dirt, and then turned back to his shorter partner.

"So all we got was some mora? Crap."

"Yes? You saw what we got, Firenzo. Stop asking stupid questions."

"Sorry man. I suppose everything pales in comparison to the loot we got that day."

Viktor kicked a stone off the platform down onto the tracks.

"That's about it. It's not everyday that we can hope to get gold and gems from a careless idiot."

"An idiot she may be, but I like that idiot, buddy. That brat's carelessness with her bracelet got us a freaking sweet deal."

That was the last straw, the final confirmation Childe needed that he'd found the culprits.

He stepped out of his hiding place and approached them steadily.

"Gentlemen, I'd like a word with you, if you please."

The two men jumped at the sound his voice, completely taken aback at the realisation that they weren't as alone as they'd thought. Their shock was shortlived, as their faces contorted into rage.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?!" snarled the shorter man named Viktor.

"No point chatting," said the taller man, who appeared to be called Firenzo, "the bastard looks puny. I can take him out easily."

Childe stopped in his tracks, tugged down the collar off his coat and removed his hat, looking straight at them.

"Do I seem familiar now?"

The men paused, their brows wrinkling in confusion. They definitely had seen him before somewhere, or even heard of him, but couldn't quite place where.

"Whatever, pretty boy," muttered Firenzo, "you won't look so pretty once I'm done with you."

Childe dodged the incoming blow as if it were child's play, throwing the taller man off his balance. Unable to stop the momentum of his tall heavy frame hurtling forward, Firenzo fell, his face contorting in fear as he realised the hard ground was getting closer and there was nothing to cushion the blow. Childe laughed, as if watching the sequence of events in slow motion.

There was a resounding crack as the man's torso hit the ground and his shoulder came into contact with unforgiving concrete. He'd swerved his torso at the last second to avoid any damage to his head, but his right shoulder had taken the brunt of the fall, as evidenced by the howl of pain that escaped his lips.

Firenzo suddenly found himself wishing the platform weren't so deserted. The emptiness of the station that had seemed a boon to both men as they had been inspecting their stolen wares, now seemed a curse as they realised they were trapped with this unhinged stranger, and no one else around for miles.

Childe laughed breathlessly, the sound of his laughter mingling with the howl of pain in a sinister chorus.

"Nice voice, buddy. Let's hear it again."

He lifted a long elegant leg and brought his foot crashing down on one of the ankles of the man on the ground, grinning as the latter's face contorted in terror, followed by agony. Another deafening scream split the air.

"Ah, listen to that," Childe turned to Viktor, who seemed frozen in fear, unable to believe that his tall, strong friend had been incapacitated so swiftly and in such a horrifying manner. "Aren't his screams nice? Such a pretty voice."

Childe was athletic, tall, and well built, but he was nowhere near as buff and muscular as a lot of the scoundrels he dealt with on a regular basis. However his battle IQ, skills at fighting, mastery over weapons, and hidden strength were unparalleled. He often enjoyed watching smug arrogance turn to disbelief and terror as he battled opponents far larger than himself and drove them to the brink of death.

He glanced back down at Firenzo, pitifully mewling in agony, helplessly clutching at his shoulder and ankle.

"Yeah, you don't look like you're going anywhere. Let's deal with your friend," he said blithely.

He looked back up and started slowly walking towards the shorter man.

"So, shall I do you next? I promise to spare your pretty face, the one you keep wrapped in that mask."

Viktor willed his feet to move from their frozen state, and started staggering backwards clumsily.

Childe tilted his head in amusement, as if observing a struggling insect. "Don't run. You won't get far."

The ominous words seemed to break the other man out of his trance and he turned heel, breaking into a full sprint, trying to put as much distance between himself and his pursuer.

Childe stopped walking, and stood hands deep in his pockets, watching the pathetic flight of terror as Viktor scrambled along the platform, running aimlessly. Going somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was away from this predatory stranger.

The air filled with the sharp smell of electricity, and the injured Firenzo on the ground felt his hairs rise in response to the static crackling in the air. There was a series of sharp, zapping flashes of purple lightning. One instant, the mysterious ginger haired man had stood just a few feet away from him, while Viktor had been running away. In the next instant, the stranger stood right before his fleeing companion, right at the other end of the platform.

The shorter man toppled over, trying to grind his heels to a halt to avoid colliding with the stranger who had appeared - zapped and teleported - right in front of him. Whatever safety he'd felt at putting distance between himself and the ginger haired man evaporated in a flash of purple static, as he found himself facing his pursuer once again.

Childe laughed, grin wide but the smile never reaching his cold, dead eyes. "I told you not to run."

********************

Childe sat on the tall edge of the platform, swinging his long legs slowly, looking down onto the tracks. Below him were two treasure hoarders, cowering in terror, incapacitated on the tracks. Each had a cracked and twisted ankle, each had a dislocated and heavily injured shoulder.

Neither could bring themselves to believe the strength this stranger possessed, as he'd hauled one off them off the platform to hurl him onto the tracks, and had kicked the other off the platform to fall on the tracks. They now lay there, injured and completely at his mercy. Childe leaned back, glancing between them carefully, committing their faces to memory.

There was no way they'd be able to climb off the tracks without his help, not with the injuries they'd sustained, and they knew it as well as he did.

"So, let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start," he sang an old song he'd listened to growing up, from a beloved theatre production. The two men stared up at him as if he were unhinged.

Childe leaned forward running a hand through his own hair.

"You don't know that song? Damn. Anyway. Look at me. Apart from me being a pretty boy, surely there's something else you recognise."

Firenzo swallowed. "I don't know man," he muttered, voice trembling. You look familiar, real familiar, but I can't place you."

Childe snorted. "Fine. So much for being highly recognisable. Let's begin with your names. You're Firenzo, and you're Viktor. Me? You can call me Tartaglia. I'm number 11 of the Fatui harbingers. Code name Childe."

There followed a pregnant pause of disbelief, punctuated with mounting fear.

"A harbinger?!" gasped Viktor, glancing desperately between Firenzo and Childe, as if expecting his taller friend to shield him. "What does a harbinger want with us?!"

"This brings me to the next part of the guessing game."

Childe leaned down, peering into their faces with a wide smile. "Did you recently see someone like me? Ginger hair, blue eyes?"

"...not really man," begged Firenzo, "I haven't seen you before. Please, just let us go, man."

"Not me. Someone like me. Someone, perhaps, carrying a gold bracelet with her name on it?"

The terror on their faces as the realisation dawned on them, was poetic.

"You.... you're her brother? Father?" Viktor scrambled for answers.

"Brother," scoffed Childe. "Do I look old enough to have an adolescent daughter? You're not very bright are you, Viktor?"

The men fell silent, realising that any unprovoked words on their part would just dig them deeper into their graves.

"Which one of you took the bracelet?"

The men didn't speak, till Childe picked up a stone lying nearby and flung it at Firenzo's injured ankle. Another sweet, satisfying scream split the air.

Childe smiled. "Let's try again. Which one of you took the bracelet?"

"Me, it was me," Viktor scrambled to answer.

"Why you?" Childe picked up a rock and twirled it in his fingers, ready to fling it at them if they hesitated.

"I'm smaller and less conspicuous than Firenzo. My hands move faster."

"What else did you take from her bag?"

"There was some half used makeup, hair accessories, and some mora."

"How much mora?"

"Around 200,000."

"What did you do with the mora?"

"We.... bought drinks and dinner and the company of some pretty women and a night in a fancy hotel." Viktor's face was scarlet with embarrassment.

"What was Firenzo's part in this?"

"He's the lookout, he helped me identify bags or pockets that could be robbed."

"What sort of people did you rob?"

"Anyone who wasn't being careful with their belongings. And... if they were traveling alone, without friends or family."

"What did you do with the bracelet?"

There was a silence, which broke as soon as Childe raised his hand to throw the stone.

"No man, no, I'll answer your question. We went to a jeweller we know. We... sold it to him and he.... melted it."

Childe was silent for a long time, his face scarily inscrutable. The two men found themselves sweating in terror and anticipation, eyes darting between his face and the rock he held in his hands. Finally, he spoke again.

"What did you do with the cor lapis which was embedded in the bracelet?"

"I don't know what the jeweller did man, he probably sold it. Cor Lapis is precious as it isn't found in Snezhnaya."

Another long, terrifying silence.

"What was this jeweller's name, and where is his establishment?"

The men hesitated, but their silence gave way as Childe raised the rock.

"Don't... don't throw that, man. His name's Djokovich, and.... he doesn't have an official establishment..... and I can't describe the location, but if you let us go, I'll take you to him."

"How much did this Djokovich pay you for the bracelet?"

"....three million mora."

".....and where is this three million mora?"

Firenzo spoke up this time, having stayed silent for so long. "We... we have a network with Djokovich and others. It went into an overseas bank account we share."

Childe turned to stare at him, his smile inscrutable, eyes blazing with cold rage.

"I suppose you're going to bargain for your life and tell me you'll give me all those account details if I let you off the tracks."

The men didn't reply, their shamed silence confirming Childe's expectations.

"Tell me," the harbinger continued, "did you feel good? Did you feel strong and powerful? Robbing a 10 year old girl traveling alone on a train? Robbing a small child of an absurdly precious gift, of great monetary value but of even greater sentimental value?"

He leaned forward, examining their faces. "Did it make you feel good?"

The two men cowered in embarrassed, frightened silence.

"How do you feel now?" His voice went lower. Sharper, darker and more sinister. "Do you feel powerful and strong and safe?"

The men didn't reply. There was nothing to be said. To say that they didn't feel safe was an understatement - they had never felt so powerless and terrified in their entire lives.

Childe smiled, looking at them and then looking into the distance, where he could see a light approaching.

"What good is 3 million mora when you're dead?"

Just as he spoke, the ominous whistle of an approaching train sounded in the distance. Viktor and Firenzo temporarily froze in terror, before dissolving into a flood of tearful pleas and wails. Any semblance of dignity and resolution they may have had, any trace of bravado, was entirely gone as they begged Childe to spare their lives. Heavily injured, unable to climb the steep platform by themselves, it would only be a matter of minutes before they were dead.

Childe swung his legs up off the platform, out of the way of the incoming train, dusting his coat off. He whistled sharply.

In a few seconds, two towering fatui soldiers appeared. One was a tall mirror maiden, and the other an anemoboxer vanguard. They reached down onto the tracks and hauled both Firenzo and Viktor up onto the platform out of harm's way - just seconds before the train hurtled past.

As the train receded into the distance, a dreadful silence settled on the platform. Firenzo and Viktor both broke down crying, grabbing onto Childe's booted feet to thank him for sparing their lives.

He kicked their hands away, and stepped back in disgust. He then looked up and addressed his two subordinates.

"Thank you two for showing up on time. You're reliable as always, Mishka and Anton."

"Your word is our command, master Childe," they spoke in unison.

"Now listen to me, Mishka" Childe turned to the tall woman, handing her the worn out pocketbook he'd managed to retrieve from the tracks. "I've got two tasks for you. First, this pocketbook. These scum stole this off a gentleman on the train. See if you can trace its owner and return it - and give him 50,000 mora as well. I'll compensate you well."

"Understood, Master Childe."

"The other task is to make these two talk. Find out about the jeweller named Djokovich whom they have dealings with. Find out everything you possibly can about him. He was the one who melted my sister Tonia's bracelet and sold the cor lapis."

Mishka stiffened and took a deep breath, anger momentarily flashing across her beautiful features. "Understood, Master Childe."

Viktor spoke up in confusion, as the dreadful realisation dawned on him that he wasn't as safe as he'd thought.

"Why, man?" He asked weakly. "We're just thieves.... we didn't murder or injure anyone, we didn't do anything worse than stealing some jewellery and mora...."

Mishka kicked him with an elegant foot, while Childe glanced down at him, anger simmering beneath the surface of his expression. He wondered if he should bother to dignify the outrageous question with a response, and then decided on it anyway.

"Tonia's bracelet meant the world to her. I'd had it crafted when I was stationed in Liyue, and she was constantly worrying whether I'd return home to her safely. Of course, she never knew exactly what I was up to, just that there were dangers. She wrote to me every week because of how much she missed me."

He paused. "I'd planned to gift it to her myself, but I'd even made arrangements to have it shipped to her in case I died in Liyue and couldn't give it to her myself. So no, Viktor, it wasn't just some jewellery. I could get cor lapis imported from Liyue any time and craft a second bracelet - but it will never be the same as the bracelet I made for my sister when we both feared a possibility of never seeing her again. For you, it's just gold fodder. For Tonia, it was everything."

He walked around them, shrugging off his coat and hanging it on an empty bench, as he continued speaking.

"If you think three million mora is a small amount, you are far more cruel and insensitive than I initially believed. Tonia is privileged of course, I provide for her - and all my little siblings - to live more than comfortably. Luxuriously, even. A loss of three million mora may be significant to her, but it is not devastating."

He stopped and looked down at both Viktor and Firenzo.

"But you had absolutely no way of knowing that Tonia was rich and privileged. For all you knew, she could have been from a very humble background, and that bracelet could have possibly been the only precious item her parents possessed, which they'd passed onto their daughter. They could have worked tirelessly for years to have it crafted for her. 3 million mora is an amount that most ordinary people take months, years, or even their entire lives to save up. There was every possibility that the loss of three million mora would devastate a young girl's family beyond repair, that it was a fate worse than death. And yet you went ahead with it."

He cleared his throat, gesturing to the pocketbook in the Mishka's hands. "And she clearly wasn't your only victim. You have a penchant for targeting the most vulnerable people with no regard for their lives. So excuse me if I don't clap you on the back and give you trophies for not murdering or maiming."

The silence was so thick, one could have cut it with a knife.

Childe smiled, and turned to his male subordinate named Anton, this time. The other man stood towering over him and yet postured in complete reverence of his superior.

"I have a couple of tasks for you as well, Anton. First, these two said they transferred the money from the sale of Tonia's bracelet to some offshore account. Find out everything you possibly can about that account. Make them talk."

"Understood, Master Childe."

Childe smiled, looked back down at the thoroughly confused men, and then back up at his subordinate. "Next, I hear the Doctor is looking for some subjects for his next experiment? Tell him Tartaglia has gifts for him. And then, deliver his gifts to him, please."

Anton nodded, a hint of a smile dancing on his otherwise stoic face. "Very well, Master Childe. Having the Doctor owe you a favour is an excellent move. I shall do as you please."

Childe laughed, and knelt on the ground near Firenzo and Viktor, smiling without pity into their wretched, exhausted faces.

"You're going to meet the Doctor. You're going to wish you'd never touched that bracelet. You're going to wish I'd let you die."

************