Honey Trap

“Honey, I’m about to leave for work!” Childe calls out to his wife, Lumine, who is presently in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Lumine places her hands on her hips. “Isn’t it 8 PM on a Saturday?”

Childe strides over to her and places a quick kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry. Something came up at work. It’s urgent.”

Lumine groans. “Come on, we haven’t had a good movie night in weeks!”

He kisses her on the forehead. “I know, I know. I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

Lumine pouts. “Pinky promise?” She holds up her pinky finger.

He smiles. “Of course. I pinky promise we will have a good movie night. Tomorrow.” He curls his pinky to cross with hers. “Okay, I gotta go. Love you.”

“Love you, too!” Childe hears Lumine call out to him, but he’s already running out of the house.

He needs to hurry. The Abyss Order has a gathering in an hour, thanks to an anonymous tip. Childe has been tailing them for months now, gathering intel and evidence for the mafia’s heinous crimes. As one of Tsaritsa’s secret agents, it’s his duty to keep Teyvat safe, which in turn keeps his wife safe.

Childe arrives on the scene. The ruins of Old Mondstadt—more commonly known as Stormterror’s Lair—stand before him, its once glorious walls now aged and dilapidated. He creeps through the corridors, careful of his footsteps. Any sound would echo audibly in the quiet ruins.

He’s just in time. There is a round table in the center of the ruins. The Abyss Herald, one of the Abyss Order Leader’s right-hand man, sits in the northern position of the table. Several other agents are there, too. The Herald is talking, but Childe is too far away to hear what they’re saying. He needs to get close.

Childe follows the right side of the wall, blending in with the dark night. He can finally hear their voices.

“The Leader should be here soon,” the Herald says. “She says there will be a surprise for us... or something.”

She? So the notorious mafia leader is a woman, huh.

One of the agents is talking, but it’s low and mumbled. Childe needs to get closer, but another step he takes, and he risks exposing himself. Just one more, he thinks. This is the only time an anonymous tip actually paid off, and he will not leave empty-handed.

Childe takes a step further. A rock crunches beneath his feet. The Herald instantly turns to him, gun raised and aimed at him. Childe raises his arms in faux surrender, but whatever his plan is—it’s too late. A loud thud lands on the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.

Childe wakes up. There’s a throbbing pain in the back of his head from the blow. He looks up, and in front of him sits Lumine, a few feet away, hands tied to the back of the chair. Her eyes are bloodshot, like she’s been crying and screaming for hours. The sight of her sends a painful stinging to his chest.

“Lumine!” Childe yells, his voice cracking.

“Childe,” Lumine replies with a whimper. “What’s happening?”

“Oh, god, Lumine.” Tears start pricking at his eyes. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get caught up in this.”

Childe tugs at his own restraints, but they’re too tight. No room for leeway. His feet are tied down, too, so any attempts to stand up will only end up with him turtling on the ground. He looks around. They’re in a dilapidated log cabin, but out the window, he can see the old ruins.

“What? What are you saying?” A pause, a realization. “Is–is this your work thing?”

He gives an imperceptible nod. His thoughts are running a hundred miles per hour, thinking of all the possibilities and courses of action to break free and save his wife.

Just then, the Abyss Herald enters the room, flexing a garrote wire in his hands.

“Oh, no.” Childe pulls at the ropes tying his hands together, but all it does is chafe against his skin. “Don’t you fucking touch my wife!”

The Herald says nothing. He approaches Lumine, who has started crying again, pulling at her own restraints to no avail.

“Please, Childe,” she says, “Just give them what they want, whatever it is.”

What do they want?

The Herald wraps the garrote wire around Lumine’s neck, and pulls. She screams.

“What are the Tsaritsa’s plans with the Gnoses?” the Herald speaks, his voice deep and distorted through the mask.

No. Anything but that. If he tells the Abyss Order, that will endanger the entirety of Teyvat. But on the other hand, Lumine, his wife, will die, be strangled to death, painfully, if he does not say anything.

With Childe’s silence, the Abyss Herald pulls the wire tighter around Lumine’s neck. She makes a strangled noise.

Tsaritsa, forgive me.

“Okay, okay, I’ll talk! Just leave her alone. She has nothing to do with this.”

The Herald loosens the wire, but does not take it off her.

“I said, leave her the fuck alone,” Childe says, gritting his teeth.

A pause. The Abyss Herald seems to consider for a moment, looking at Lumine, then he takes off the wire.

“Talk.”

Childe swallows the lump in his throat. He is about to commit high treason, but none of that matters. All that matters is Lumine, and making sure she is safe. “The Tsaritsa... She’s planning to wage war on Celestia.”

“Where are the Gnoses being held?” the Herald asks.

Childe does not know.

“...That’s confidential,” he says instead. Which is a mistake, because the Herald is winding the garrote around Lumine’s neck again.

“Last chance,” the Herald says.

“Okay, I don’t know!”

The Abyss Herald pulls on the wire.

“Please, I swear! That information is not something we’re privy to!”

The Herald isn’t stopping. Oh, god, he’s not stopping. Childe wants to look away, to drown out the strangled noises Lumine is making. He has never felt so helpless up until now. What is the point of all this, of being a secret agent and thwarting criminals, if he cannot even protect the love of his life? Tears are streaming down his eyes, out of his control, just like everything else in this moment.

“Please, I don’t know, you have to believe me,” Childe pleads, his voice brimming with desperation.

Another pause. Lumine shakes her head, and the Herald takes away the wire. She coughs and gasps at the release.

What?

Lumine waves the Herald away. “You’ve done well. Now, leave.”

Childe watches Lumine massage her neck. There had not been any restraints on her at all.

“Honey?” Childe says, hesitating to call her that, because he does not know who this woman is, and maybe if he calls her honey, his Lumine will come back.

Lumine quirks her head sideways. “Yes, honey?”

“W-what... what the fuck?”

Lumine stands up to approach him. She tugs his jaw upwards to face her. Looking up at her, Childe sees every part that makes up his wife: her amber eyes, rosy cheeks, golden blonde hair. It is Lumine, but not the Lumine he married. But... she is still beautiful like this, just not in the usual way that warms his heart like a cozy fireplace. Her beauty is different this time—it is cold and calculating, and when she grabs him by the hair to hold him in place, Childe does not know which side of Lumine he likes better.

He should feel anger, really, at this betrayal, but as Childe searches his heart, he finds nothing but utter love and adoration for the woman before her. Even if she is probably about to kill him.

Lumine sits on his lap, her thighs framing his hips. The hand on her hair slides down to the back of his head, a dull pain still throbbing from the previous blow.

“I’m sorry it had to end this way,” Lumine says. Her face is empty now, a sharp contrast from the crying and pleading she had been doing earlier. “But you’ve outlived your usefulness to me.”

“Was any of it real?” Childe asks, despite himself. Their marriage should really be the least of his worries right now, but he asks anyway.

She kisses him. It is not soft and tender, but hungry and ferocious. Her tongue swipes at his bottom lip before parting them and meeting his. The grip on his hair tightens. All too abruptly, Lumine pulls away, and Childe finds himself chasing her lips.

“Does that answer your question?” Lumine says with a smirk.

Childe does not know if he should be terrified or aroused. Probably both.

“Why?” he asks. Why did you do this, he wants to ask. Why did you do this to me, to us?

“Oh, honey,” she begins, “If you didn’t see this coming, then I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand anything at all.”

“Make me,” Childe says, leaning forward with a snarl.

Lumine licks her lips. “Mm, feisty.”

She leans in to kiss him again. This time it is tender, but her hand is still gripping his hair. The pain contrasts the soft of her lips, and god, Childe just wants to melt into her. It doesn’t matter that she has been the criminal he had been hunting all this time. Doesn’t matter that he had committed high treason. None of it matters as long as Lumine is here, close to him, safe and sound.

Whatever it takes...

“It doesn’t have to end this way,” Childe says, pulling away.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.”

As long as he is by her side, nothing else matters.

“I can be useful,” Childe continues. “I’m a great fighter, you know that.”

Lumine snorts. “I don’t doubt that, but did I hear that right? Are–are you actually—”

“Yes.”

Lumine tries to suppress a smile, but fails, and it is beautiful and radiant and everything to Childe. She pulls on his hair again. “You would betray the Tsaritsa, if I asked you to?”

“You don’t even have to ask. I will.”

“And how can I trust you? You are her loyal lapdog, after all.”

Her eyes are cold and piercing. Childe feels so utterly weak under her calculating stare. He swallows. “I married you. ‘Till death do us part, honey.”

Lumine smiles and kisses him again, biting his lip. He moans into the kiss, letting himself go. When she pulls away, she is still smiling.

“‘Till death do us part.”