Fingers tapping idly on the smooth wooden surface, Nadezhda’s gaze lingered on the steam rising from the cup of tea sitting in front of her. It wasn’t nearly as cold in Fontaine as she was used to, even despite the damp and windy atmosphere that coated the land that night, but she had begun to crave for warmth as the hours since her brother had left her hotel grew longer and longer. Official business, some sort of important orders from the Tsaritsa, as if being in the Nation of Justice hadn’t already caused him — and her, by extension, enough strife already.
“Who are we to question Her orders? Nobody, of course, and yet…” she trailed off to herself as she gently picked up her teacup and brought it to her lips. She should be grateful that her brother, dear Ajax, was someone of such great importance. Loyal to the Tsaritsa when so many of his comrades had turned their backs or perished, and by the archons did she try — accompanying him wherever he went when their siblings were assuredly in good hands was her way of making the most of his departures. Nadezhda had seen the wonderful harbor of Liyue, the beautifully nature-embraced landscape of Sumeru, and shopped around Fontaine’s boutiques at her own leisurely pace. Never reaching into her own wallet, no less, as her older brother would always insist on spoiling her.
“Come, now, Nadia! This treatment is the bare minimum your future husband should provide for you, so you should get used to it as soon as you can. Otherwise, your standards may grow too low, and my dear sister could end up with some sort of freeloader. Can’t have that, can we?”
Her mind wandered to his carefree attitude, which he had obtained suddenly in his early teen years. He frustrated her so, with his leisurely behavior, as if nothing in the world could possibly harm him. Picturing his wide grin elicited nothing but complex feelings inside of her; should she not feel joy for her elder brother? Her own kin? And yet, she can’t help but wonder what it would take to truly wipe it off of his face. She’s witnessed it fade a handful of times, but part of her couldn’t help but imagine what it would take for his eyes to widen in a pitifully sad, desperate look. His deep blue eyes, a trait inherited from their mother that Nadezhda wasn’t lucky enough to receive, looking up at her with a pitiful shine in them that could only come from something her brother would never let her see: tears.
Too stuck in her own thoughts, the burning sensation of the tea only registered once it overwhelmed the surface of her tongue. The teacup clattered against its saucer as she quickly set it back down, reaching a hand over her mouth as she muttered a string of profanity she’d never let any of her siblings hear from her.
As she patted dry the stray drops of tea that had fallen onto her dress, there was an all-too familiar knock on the door: a series of taps and knocks in far too specific of a sequence for it to be anyone other than Childe. As kids they had invented special knocking patterns, a tradition that lived well into their adult lives. The urgency of the knocking, however, clashed with the nostalgic reminder of their time spent together as kids, and Nadezhda rose to her feet and quickly dashed towards the door. If it truly was Ajax at the door, his situation must have been serious for him to show so much force in front of his younger sister.
“Brother, is that you? Is everything al-”
She paused as the door opened fully, the rare sight in front of her sending a wave of panic through her. It was her sibling, her dear older brother who had given her all the pieces of Tevyat that he could, in a state that could only have been described as out of character for him. There he stood, ginger hair clinging to the sides of his face, with stains of red coating his clothes as if someone had spilled a palette of wet watercolor all over him. The sight of blood wasn’t what had startled her, though, but the fact it was undeniably coming from Ajax.
Dark red slashes were littered across his torso and arms, and worst of all, a particularly large bloodstain on his lower abdomen that he was covering the source of with his hand. Her hands quickly guided him inside and into a seated position on the hotel’s bed and as she grabbed every towel and piece of cloth that could be used to mop up the blood, she couldn’t help but frantically question Ajax.
“What happened?! How could- Who managed to hurt you like this? Aja- Tartaglia, can you speak? Please, oh our dear Tsaritsa, please-”
Her panic was quickly put to a halt, more or less, when she turned towards her brother once more with several towels in hand. He was looking at her with a smile, the dull amusement in his eyes seemingly mocking her for her concern. His hand still rested on whatever the source was of the large stain, but upon calming herself down Nadezhda realized he didn’t seem to be distressed whatsoever. Seeing her frozen in place, a sharp, amused exhale escaped from Childe’s lips.
“Something wrong, Nadechka? I didn’t want you to see me like this, but walking around with so many wounds was bound to draw attention. You’ve helped me clean up blood stains before, don’t think of this as anything different.”
Nadia’s grip tightened on the stack of towels and bandages as the faintest mist of tears gathered in her eyes. How could he be so careless, so indifferent to his own wounds? She bit her lower lip as she set down the fabrics next to him, clicking her tongue in disapproval as she selected one and carried it to the small sink of the room’s mini kitchen.
“Don’t you dare move even an inch, Yashka. I have no patience for your idiocies when you scare me half to death like this.”
The water eventually ran warm, and she soaked the towel in it, allowing her own hands to regain the warmth they had lost from the spike of adrenaline she had received.
“If I were to get up, it’d be for a perfectly good reason. For example, grabbing a disinfectant from the washroom.”
Nadia swiftly shut the faucet off, turning around and approaching Childe once again, placing the wet towel on top of one of the dry.
“The room has none, I ran out of the soap I had brought and was going to ask for you to accompany me to get more when you arrived. So much for that, I suppose. Strip.”
Her older brother’s eyes widened with amusement as she ordered him, his signature, infuriating grin spreading across his face once again. She groaned with annoyance as she reached to begin undoing his shirt, continuing to speak before he got the chance to make any sort of remark.
“What, do you want to leave your bloodied clothes on? Get your mind out of the gutter, brother, I already made it clear that you’re testing my patience as it is.”
They began working together to remove the blood-soaked clothes from him, his fresh injuries contrasting with the layers of healed scars from battles over the years. It wasn’t as if Nadezhda imagined her brother to be some untouchable god, but the sight of him covered in his own blood, blood they shared, made her feel uneasy. Once his shirt was almost fully over his head he inhaled sharply through his teeth as he attempted to writhe out of it.
Nadia’s hand quickly reached to gently touch his upper arm, motioning for him to stop.
“Let me, you’re probably opening your wounds even more.”
“I don’t believe it’d take a doctor to notice that, Nadia.”
Following the harbinger’s gaze, Nadezhda gasped as she noticed the wound he had previously been covering with his hand leaking tremendous amounts of blood.
“Who in the world did you- how did you get shot?! Are you serious, brother? Were you drunk out of your mind when you went out? Archons, don’t even answer that- Lift your arms.”
She quickly pulled his shirt off of him, tossing it to the floor and grabbing one of the dry towels. He hissed as she pressed it against the bullet wound, but moved his hand to keep it in place as she grabbed the wet towel and began wiping off the blood that had already dried on his skin. As she diligently cleaned his arms and chest of smeared blood, she looked up at him.
“You know I really don’t have any sort of disinfectant, right? I don’t even know where I’d purchase something without all sorts of floral scents you shouldn’t be putting into your open wounds, so what does the great mercenary suggest?”
“Do Fontainians not sell hard liquor? I’m sure that would do the trick, and you could pass me a swig while you work.”
Just as she felt the first pangs of annoyance at his unshakable tendency to tease her, Nadia realized she had brought some fire-water from home, just in case she felt particularly homesick.
txto