Chapter Text
It’s in the middle of an uneventful day, while Odette happens to be walking around Rankova Zorya, that Alyosha asks her, “So, um… do you like Vodyanitsa?”
Odette answers immediately. “Yes. I like her romantically.”
Alyosha’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Oh! Wow. Uh…”
“And,” Odette continues, “if you ever tell her, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”
Silence descends. “…I see,” Alyosha mutters. His voice sounds strained. He takes a small step away.
She’s made a social blunder. Her and Alyosha’s professional relationship is still new, and mostly untested. Alienating him could have long-term consequences. “I’m joking,” Odette says.
“Ah!” Alyosha chuckles. “Got it.”
No, this won’t do either. Odette has to impart the severity of the stakes, in order for him to take her warning seriously. “Mostly.”
“…Eh?!”
Okay, this isn’t working. Maybe she should just be direct. “Look, just… don’t tell her, okay?” she pleads. (Remember your manners, Rosalyne’s voice echoes in her mind.) “…Please.”
Alyosha looks rather perturbed. Still, he nods and replies, “Okay, I won’t.”
“Good. Thank you for understanding.”
It’s not that Odette is afraid that her feelings will not be returned. She can handle rejection just fine. But love, she has learned, is a tempestuous and unpredictable force, one that is not to be handled lightly. All she is doing is taking sensible precautions.
After Odette’s father died in the line of duty, she watched her mother quickly crumble. Her leg giving out on stage was merely the final straw, the physical pain finally matching the mental anguish that had been hollowing her out for days. When Rosalyne eventually arrived to take Odette away, her mother’s eyes were empty and distant. The loss of her husband, and now her daughter, had become too much to bear.
And Rosalyne herself… Odette never learned the full picture of the Eighth Harbinger’s history. Even if Rosalyne had been keen on sharing, she wouldn’t have been in the mood to listen. But what little she did know, from clandestine whispers passed between gossiping officers, painted a sobering story: one of tragedy, heartbreak, and unfair ostracization. And those lingering flames of loss would only ever consume Rosalyne, in the end.
And what of Vodyanitsa? One who loves as easily as she breathes, who gives out affection to anyone who asks, only to so rarely see her efforts returned? Who constantly gives a selfish, duplicitous creature like Lishnaya the benefit of the doubt? Who has dedicated herself to preserving the legacies of Water Imps long since departed? She may claim to be unmoved by the many betrayals she’s experienced, but Odette can see the pain and longing in her eyes, clear as a cloudless day. A pure love – a true love – would destroy her.
Of course, Odette says none of this aloud, nor does she give any indication of it on her face. That would be improper.
Meanwhile, back in reality, Alyosha is scratching at the nape of his neck. “Look, I can respect wanting to keep secrets. Archons know you’ve got your reasons,” he says. “But you should really consider telling her yourself. I think—”
“That won’t be happening either,” Odette interrupts. “I’m aware you’re trying to help, but there are other things you should really be focusing on right now.”
“Such as…?”
“Such as the plume of smoke emanating from the restaurant right now,” Odette points off into the distance.
Alyosha whirls around to see she’s telling the truth. There’s a trail of dark smoke trailing up into the sky. “Who’s running things over there right now?!” he exclaims.
“Well, considering I’m here, and you’re here… it’s probably Vodyanitsa,” Odette states.
Alyosha pales. “…We need to get over there.”
By the time the two of them arrive on the scene, the exciting stuff is mostly over. Vodyanitsa’s Hydro Vision has managed to put out the fire quite thoroughly – at the cost of drenching most of the immediate area. All that’s left is the culprit herself, standing in the middle of the kitchen. She’s looking sheepish, but not ashamed.
“I just wanted to try cooking something new,” she says by way of explanation.
“And what,” Odette sighs, “made you think that would be a good idea?”
Vodyanitsa shrugs, a smile on her face. “I’m not going to learn if I don’t practice, right?”
When Vodyanitsa looks like this, all cutesy and mischievous, it just makes Odette want to grab her and drag her off to a closet somewhere, leave some marks on the naughty little Water Imp to teach her a lesson. But Odette shoves that desire far down deep inside her, where it can never surface. Instead, she brushes Vodyanitsa to the side and instructs, “Just stand back, let me handle this.”
Vodyanitsa pouts. “You’re not even going to let me help clean up?”
“…Maybe the two of us should work on ferrying meals out to the customers,” Alyosha suggests, tugging on Vodyanitsa’s arm.
“That would be much appreciated,” Odette nods.
“Alright, fine,” sighs Vodyanitsa. She pats Odette on the shoulder and adds, “Don’t work too hard, okay?”
Odette has to use all her willpower to suppress the shiver that shoots up her spine at the contact. “Okay. Got it,” she replies. She grabs a mop to clean up the spilled water, just as Alyosha drags Vodyanitsa out the door.
Alyosha’s a good friend. Kinder than Odette deserves, and a far better match for Vodyanitsa than a killer like Odette could ever be. Her own blood-drenched hands would only stain Vodyanitsa’s flawless skin.
Odette has seen love destroy her mother’s livelihood. She has seen love turn Rosalyne into a husk of vengeance and regret.
She will be damned to a thousand hells before she lets her own love hurt Vodyanitsa.
. . .
After the meeting with the Tsaritsa lets out, Odette takes the opportunity to pull Vesna aside as they leave Zapolyarny Palace. Although the two of them are acquainted, they aren’t exactly close, and so Odette makes sure to show the proper respect when addressing the Druzhna commander. Placing a hand over her heart and slightly bowing her head, she greets, “Commander Strivozha. Could I ask for a moment of your time?”
Vesna promptly lets out an amused giggle. “Oh, come on, Odette. I keep telling you, there’s no need for all that! I’m not your boss!”
Odette shakes her head. “Still, you’re my senior. I wouldn’t want to be rude.”
“Hey, I’m not that old! And if you’re referring to status… you might not be that far behind me for long, eh, little Miss Junior Harbinger?” Vesna teases, poking Odette on the tip of her nose. “But fine, if you’re going to be like that… what can I do for you, Madame Spessiva? Want some specialized training? Got a hot tip for me to investigate? Heard any juicy gossip you wanna let me in on?”
Already, Odette is regretting going to Vesna for this – she’d forgotten how much the flighty Vila could talk. Still, she’s in too deep now. “I was actually looking for advice. Regarding… matters of the heart.”
Instantly, Vesna falls silent, squinting at her. “…Is this about Vodyanitsa?”
“No,” Odette lies poorly.
“I think it is, though,” Vesna replies with a smirk.
“It most certainly is not.”
“Fine. Whatever. Stay in denial,” Vesna shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me. Come on, let’s walk together! I’ll teach you all the lady-killing tricks I know. By the time the day is out, you’ll know exactly how to woo your mysterious, nameless, definitely-not-someone-we-both-know belle!” She begins to stroll down the steps from the palace, gesturing for Odette to follow.
“That’s very kind of you,” Odette says, walking alongside Vesna, “but I was actually hoping for some advice on how to get over a crush.”
Vesna’s head whips to the side so fast, Odette is surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. “Eh? What? Why!? And what made you want to come to me for that?”
A fair question. “Well, you’re well-versed in romantic relationships between women, for one. Your teenage infatuation with Danica Postelnitskaya is common knowledge among the Harbingers.”
Vesna blinks twice. “…Oh. Is it, now?” she ponders, her voice a little strained.
“And yet, in present day, the two of you routinely work together in a professional capacity under Her Majesty,” Odette continues. “Clearly, you’ve managed to put aside your feelings for the sake of your duties.”
“…Right.” Vesna purses her lips, and the corners of her eyes tighten a little. “Yeah, pretty much. I’m totally over her now.”
“How did you do it?”
“Well, um…” Vesna begins, before clearing her throat. “She actually ended up leaving me behind and traveling the world for eight years, so. That really helped, hehe,” she chuckles. “And it was, you know, the distance that helped me put my feelings aside. Gave them space to fade. And now I can interact with her totally normally. It’s all good!”
“That makes sense.” Odette considers it. “Unfortunately, I don’t think that will work for me. I can’t so easily put distance between us.”
“Because you two are co-workers?”
“Because she’s quite… needy,” Odette explains, after mentally cycling through a handful of other, less kind epithets. “I’ve been neglecting our friendship far too much already, what with being preoccupied with recent events, and it’s placed a strain upon both of us. Cutting contact entirely would be a poor path of action, to put it mildly.”
“Yeah, Vodyanitsa does seems like the tempermental type,” Vesna muses, back to looking a little more cheerful. “You know, there’s that old legend about Water Imps… that if you upset them badly enough, they’ll tangle you in their hair and drown you in the freezing waters!”
That doesn’t sound so bad, Odette thinks. But no, she shakes her head. “That’s just an old superstition from less tolerant times. She’d never do anything like that.” Probably.
A smug grin spreads across Vesna’s face. “But you’re not denying that it’s Vodyanitsa we’re talking about, huh?”
“…Damnation,” Odette mutters under her breath. This was definitely a mistake.
“Aww, you even curse all formal. It’s adorable,” Vesna coos, poking Odette on her cheek. “Hey, don’t frown like that! I promise, I won’t tell anybody about your crush on the cute little Water Imp, okay?”
Screw it. If Odette is already this much of an open book, she might as well go all the way. “It’s not just a crush,” she says firmly. “I’m in love with her. And… it scares me.”
Odette looks down at her hands, covered in callouses from Fatui combat training. Nothing at all like Vodyanitsa’s delicate palms. How many lives have Odette’s hands brought to an untimely end? For a second, her mind conjures an image, unbidden, of her fingers wrapped around Vodyanitsa’s neck. A mixture of possession and violence. It makes her want to throw up.
“I’m not good for her,” Odette continues, her voice breaking. “But at the same time, I can’t bring myself to let her go. I’m too selfish. And all this time, she thinks I’m just a good friend. She doesn’t know I have these… desires. These urges.” She lets her hands fall to her sides. “Surely, she’d hate me if she knew.”
At some point, she’s come to a halt on the steps. Now Vesna is (metaphorically) hovering over her, looking concerned. “I mean… she probably wouldn’t actually hate you, right?” Vesna argues. “The girl’s practically a saint. Whatever it is you’re thinking, it’s can’t possibly be so bad that she’d ditch you over it.”
“…You’re right,” Odette admits.
“Of course I am.”
“And that’s even worse. She’s far too kind to ever abandon a friend, even if they deserved it.” Odette’s mind goes to Lishnaya, and to Vodyanitsa’s many admirers, who the Prima Donna will trash-talk behind closed doors – but never really turn away. “Even if I were to selfishly force my feelings upon her… would she accept them regardless, if only to keep me happy? If that were ever to happen, I don’t think I could forgive myself. Ever.”
“Oooh-kay,” Vesna hisses. She places a hand on Odette’s shoulder. “Look, you know I tend to joke around a lot, poke some fun at people. It’s a habit. A reflex. And sometimes, that makes it hard for me to have serious discussions about important topics, or properly relate to people.”
Odette nods.
“So… maybe you’d be better off asking someone else about this.”
“…I see.” Odette lets her shoulders slump.
“But, but… look, just for what it’s worth?” Vesna offers. “I don’t think trying to deny your feelings is a good idea. Love is something strong, and important. It’s the power to create strength for those we cherish, to create laughter, courage, and hope. Trying to push all that down, pretend it doesn’t exist… it can’t be healthy, you know? You deserve better than that.”
Odette thinks about this.
Vesna tilts her head to the side, and raises her eyebrows expectantly.
“You’re right,” Odette finally replies. “I should ask someone else about this.” Then she continues down the steps.
Behind her, Vesna sputters indignantly. “Wha-what!? Rude!”
. . .
Unfortunately, the number of people who both a) can be trusted with this sensitive of an issue, and b) can be relied upon to deliver actual sound advice is approximately zero. As a result, it is bereft of direction and on unsteady feet that Odette finds herself on a stakeout with Vodyanitsa, Alyosha, and the Traveler. And of course, it’s just her luck that sees her up on a cramped balcony with Vodyanitsa, watching Alyosha go undercover down below.
There’s only barely enough room for the two of them, mere tantalizing inches separating Odette from Vodyanitsa’s skin. It’s a kind of sweet suffocation. Why do they both need to be watching from this balcony, again?
Vodyanitsa must be finding this arrangement quite awkward, because her eyes keep flitting from Alyosha up to Odette. Finally, she clears her throat and murmurs, “Do you think Vesna is on to us? Like… you know, that we’re part of the r-word?”
“It’s possible,” Odette admits. “Despite how she presents herself, she’s quite smart.”
Vodyanitsa groans in dismay. “This sucks! How are we supposed to be a clandestine civilian organization if government people keep discovering our identities!”
It’s true that the situation is less than ideal, but Odette doesn’t think things are that serious yet. “I don’t believe Vesna has any hard evidence of our activities. And besides, our little ‘loyal citizens’ routine back at the Northland Bank likely threw her off the scent a bit. After all, why would suspected subversives voluntarily give up their Seals of Life to support the Tsaritsa’s plan?”
“Why would they, indeed?” Vodyanitsa ponders. She smiles. “I have to say, I was pretty surprised you were so willing to accompany me and Alyosha to donate our Seals of Life… especially considering the lengths you were willing to go to stop Project Stuzha.”
“It’s… complicated,” Odette sighs. “I do believe in the Tsaritsa’s plans, and in her ability to lead Snezhnaya. But at the same time… I refuse to turn a blind eye to the regular people, who are so often trampled underfoot in the pursuit of lofty ideals.” She shakes her head. “Ordinarily, I would hesitate to follow this ‘Seals of Life’ plan, with how much it demands of the citizenry of Snezhnaya. Asking people to risk their most precious memories is a heavy price to pay. But if our intel is accurate, and this is part of a larger scheme to eliminate Ronova…”
(Odette’s mind is pulled back to those nightmarish nights spent in that purgatory theater, as people dropped dead around her. Waking up one morning to find Vodyanitsa’s ice-cold body, her heart silently shattering into pieces at the sight. Looking into Alyosha’s – no, Ronova’s eyes, as the architect of their torment speaks with neither anger nor pity in her voice.)
“…If it’s to kill Ronova, then no price is too high. I’ll pay it gladly,” Odette resolves.
Vodyanitsa raises her eyebrows. “Huh. You’re a lot more serious about this than I realized.”
Odette’s cheeks burn. She got way too carried away, and now Vodyanitsa definitely thinks she’s weird. She scans the crowd below, following Alyosha with her eyes, while mentally searching for a way to change the topic of conversation. “Well, speak for yourself. You were quite eager to investigate the possibility of someone stealing the Seals of Life, weren’t you?”
“That’s true.” Vodyanitsa gazes off into the distance, her expression unreadable. “I just can’t stand the idea of people getting scammed by this guy.”
“I suppose you have always been proactive in going after ticket scalpers in the past,” Odette muses.
“No, it’s more than that,” Vodyanitsa insists. She wrings her hands, looking down at the floor. “The sort of victims this guy is targeting… they’re all old people, in failing health, desperate for a miracle to turn their lives around. Probably without any living family, too.” She sighs. “Just imagine what that’s like… knowing that the end of your life is near, and that after you’re gone, there won’t be anyone left to remember you? To mourn you?”
“…You’re thinking about the other Water Imps again, aren’t you?” Odette guesses. The prospect of dying and being forgotten isn’t just a hypothetical for Vodyanitsa, after all. She’s still quite young by fae standards, so the end of her life is still hundreds of years off, but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s one of, if not the only Water Imp left in Snezhnaya. Once she dies, there won’t be anyone left to remember or carry on her culture.
Vodyanitsa giggles, a little wistful. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”
“It comes with the job of a Fatuus,” Odette replies. “Also, you talk in your sleep.”
“Argh.” Vodyanitsa groans, banging her head against the wall. “I really am the worst covert agent ever.”
Odette hums noncommittally.
“…This is the part where you say, ‘No, Vodyanitsa! You’re doing great!’”
“Well, you certainly aren’t the worst. I’ve met Fatui officers who are much worse at covert work than you.”
“That doesn’t make me feel much better,” Vodyanitsa pouts. Then her expression gradually becomes more contemplative. “Say, Odette… if there really was some sort of way to use Life Energy to extend your lifespan. Would you do it?”
“No,” Odette answers immediately. “I couldn’t ever use other people’s sacrifices for my own selfish gain.”
Vodyanitsa puts a hand on her chin, looking adorably deep in thought. “Hm, okay. But… hypothetically, what if it was possible without having to steal anyone else’s Life Energy? Then would you try it?”
Odette has to think about this for a moment. “…Still no,” she decides. “Human minds aren’t designed to withstand past a certain lifespan. There are all too many cautionary tales of fools who tried to seek immortality, without understanding what it was they were searching for.” Like more than a few Harbingers, she thinks to herself. People such as Regrator may have succeeded in staving off their inevitable deaths, but Odette knows they’ve paid heavy prices for their miracles. And that’s not even addressing the Jester, and the curse he’s borne for the past 500 years. “Whether I live or die, I’ll do it on my own terms.”
Vodyanitsa frowns, pressing her lips together. “But… that means you’re going to die so much sooner than I will,” she murmurs.
“That’s true,” Odette admits. It’s not something she likes the idea of. There’s a petty, selfish part of her that wants to cling to life, to cling to Vodyanitsa, until her fingers bleed. But that wouldn’t be good for Odette, and it would be even worse for Vodyanitsa. The Water Imp deserves to live her own life, to go on into the future free and unencumbered, not dragged down by the self-centered wishes of a depraved, lustful killer.
“But… that’s…” Vodyanitsa mutters to herself. Then she takes a deep breath, and says, “Odette, I don’t—”
“Hold that thought,” Odette interrupts. There’s movement down on the train platform – Alyosha has made contact with their mark. The two of them are on the move now. Odette spies the Traveler at the other end of the station, already in pursuit. Odette and Vodyanitsa will have to do the same if they don’t want to be left behind. “We need to move.”
“…Right. Okay,” Vodyanitsa nods. “Let’s go.”
(Later on, after the case has been handed over to Vesna, Odette remembers to ask Vodyanitsa about what she was going to say. For whatever reason, the Water Imp answers evasively: claiming it wasn’t that important, and that she doesn’t even remember anyway. Besides, there are more important things to worry about, right?)
. . .
It’s not long before Odette finds herself at the center of activity once again. This time, the Tsaritsa’s forces need to move a lot of laboratory supplies through Rankova Zorya – so as the town’s unofficial guardians, she, Vodyanitsa, and Alyosha have naturally taken it upon themselves to both supervise and assist with the work.
As a result, the town is busier than it’s ever been. Vodyanitsa takes to it like… well, like a fish to water. She’s out making a new friend already, talking to a tall, blonde-haired man wearing black and azure garments (who seems to be familiar with the Traveler already). Odette, meanwhile, is content keeping her distance and focusing on her assigned tasks.
She’s finished discussing logistics with Vesna and Valeriy, and is just hoisting up another crate of materials when Alyosha catches up to her. “Hey. Are you doing alright?” he asks.
“Adequate,” Odette answers. “Some of the villagers have offered to help out, so we’re making good time. Assuming we can maintain this pace, we should have all the cargo loaded and ready to depart within the hour.”
Alyosha nods. “That’s great news, but it’s not what I was asking about.”
“Ah.” Odette thinks back to the last one-on-one conversation they’ve had – they were discussing Vodyanitsa, weren’t they? Alyosha must be interested in an update on Odette’s emotional state. “I’m fine. Vodyanitsa is a grown woman, she’s allowed to go and make new friends,” she gestures in the direction of the Water Imp in question. “I don’t particularly care.”
It’s not entirely a lie. Odette shouldn’t care. She’s trying not to care. Her not-caring is a work in progress. If she ever has fantasies of snatching Vodyanitsa and hiding her away, somewhere where only Odette will ever be able to hear her beautiful voice, that’s her own business. No one else ever has to know.
“In any case, I’m happy she’s getting along so well with everyone,” Odette continues. “It’s helping to lighten the atmosphere. Considering the scale of the threat we face, it’s no easy feat to keep morale up this high.”
“…That’s also true, but again, not what I was looking for,” Alyosha says. “I came over to check on your because I noticed your hands are bleeding.”
Odette looks down. He’s right. Her palms are rubbed raw from the heavy lifting, and her blood is staining the wooden crate she holds. “…Oh,” she murmurs. Moving quickly, she deposits the crate on a nearby trolley before she can make an even bigger mess. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”
Alyosha’s looking at her oddly. “Vodyanitsa already explained it to me, but… you really don’t feel any pain?”
“Not for many years,” Odette replies. The bleeding on her hands, while minor, shows no signs of stopping. “I’ll need to get these bandaged.”
“Well, Vodyantisa could probably heal you up,” Alyosha points out.
“No. She’s busy.”
“…Really? I’m sure she’d be happy to—”
“She’d just worry. She’s already telling me to eat more, I don’t need her fussing over me because of this.” Not to mention, Odette doesn’t deserve Vodyanitsa’s care.
Alyosha rolls his eyes, not unjustifiably. “Alright, fine. I’ve got some bandages in my pack. But you know letting Vodyanitsa use her Vision would be faster, right?”
“I’m aware. Thank you.”
Alyosha swings his pack off his shoulder and opens it up, sorting through the contents. “You can’t run from your feelings forever, you know.”
“I’m not running from them,” Odette retorts. “I’m going to smother them in their bed.”
“That’s… not any better,” Alyosha argues. “Look, Vodyanitsa really cares about you. No matter what you’re feeling, I think you should—”
Suddenly, the air chills. An unsettling feeling shoots up Odette’s spine.
Odette and Alyosha lock eyes. Recognition flashes between them. No words are necessary: they both recognize this sensation.
Ronova is here.
“Everybody, evacuate, now!” Alyosha yells to the civilians. “Clear out! We’re under attack!”
It’s a testament to the sway that Alyosha has over the villagers of Rankova Zorya that the response is nigh-immediate. People drop what they’re doing, grab their loved ones, and run away from the solitary shadowed figure that’s just appeared on the horizon. Even so, herding this many people to safety will take time. And considering their adversary, time is something they may not have.
Vodyanitsa shooting onto the scene at high speed, her fish tail dissolving as she lands back on her feet in front of Odette. “Mitya says she’s early,” she explains, breathless. “I don’t think this was part of the plan.”
Alyosha curses under his breath. “We need to get these people out of here. If she triggers another Curse of Death, they’ll be caught in the area of effect.”
“We can send them south, towards your hideout!” Vodyanitsa suggests. “It’s not too far, right? There’s plenty of supplies, and Rokot staff who can help any injured.”
“Sounds good,” Alyosha nods. “We’ll need to work quickly. Odette?”
Odette’s only half listening. The rest of her attention is turned to the north, where Vesna, the Traveler, and the black-clad stranger have joined the battle against Ronova. Odette’s mind runs the calculations: even as fearsome as those three are, they won’t hold out against the Ruler of Death for long.
“You two can handle the evacuation,” Odette decides, striding forwards. “Don’t wait up for me.”
“Wait!” Vodyanitsa cries out. “Where are you going?”
Odette summons her sword into her hand, blood dripping down the pommel. “To buy you some time.”
. . .
The battle is frantic and desperate. Ronova is on an altogether different level of power – it’s all the assembled fighters can do to merely keep up with her.
This isn’t Odette’s best field of play. She’s an assassin – she’s at her best when she’s operating in the shadows, in full control over the environment. When compared to a military veteran like Vesna or a world-renowned fighter like the Traveler, she can’t help but feel pressured to pull her weight.
She’s a little impressed with herself at how long she lasts. The Traveler goes down first: understandable, consider how much she’d been drawing Ronova’s fire. But eventually, her luck runs out, and she’s crushed by a wave of blood-red energy. Just before the light leaves her eyes, Vesna channels the Power of Life for a split second, safeguarding her soul.
Odette doesn’t stop to ask what’s going on with that. She has other things on her mind.
Not long after, the other Vision users join the battle: Valeriy, Mitya, Alyosha, Vodyanitsa, even Tugarin. Odette wants to snarl at them to get back and help with the evacuation, but she’s too out of breath to muster anything more than a light wheeze.
She keeps half an eye on Vodyanitsa. The Water Imp keeps running back and forth between combatants, keeping them healed up and on their feet, her face brimming with determination. On the inside, Odette knows she’s probably terrified.
Ronova notices, of course – someone like her probably doesn’t like it much when their opponents refuse to die. She begins targeting Vodyanitsa directly: first with energy blasts, then beams of death, then a spear hurled directly at her heart. Vodyanitsa evades most of the barrage, but she’s running out of stamina. The spear zeroes in on her position.
Odette does the math. No one yet knows whether the plan the Tsaritsa has cooked up will work. It’s not certain that anyone who dies here will come back. Right now, the others will need a healer like Vodyanitsa much more than they need another killer.
And on a more base, primal level… Odette cannot watch Vodyanitsa die again.
So with the last of her strength, she throws herself at Vodyanitsa, tackling the Water Imp out of the way, shielding her with her own body. Vodyanitsa’s hair tickles her cheek. Then Odette feels the spear pierce her body. As always, it doesn’t hurt.
With blood on her palms, and Vodyanitsa in her arms, Odette dies.
(Then, a few minutes later, so does everyone else.)
. . .
All throughout her childhood, the following lesson was drilled into Odette’s brain: a Fatui operative must be cold, precise, and unflinchingly loyal. In the grand designs of her Majesty the Tsaritsa, pursuing petty vengeances will only lead to instability and division.
But to be frank, that lesson has always been more of a guideline than a hard rule. Just look at the Harbingers, after all. And now, Odette has one more thing in common with them – because she certainly feels a sense of perverse satisfaction while watching Ronova die.
She only wishes that she’d been the one to deliver the finishing blow herself. That fantasy of running the Ruler of Death through with her blade, watching the life drain out of her eyes, will have to remain a daydream. Shame.
Once it’s all over, and the combatants have picked themselves back up, beginning to converse among themselves, Odette allows herself a moment to relax. It’s over.
Even with her dulled senses, she can feel the gentle chill of the breeze, the snowy flakes drifting down onto her skin… and the impact of Vodyanitsa punching her in the shoulder.
Odette frowns. “What are you doing?”
“What am I doing? Better question is, what the heck were you doing!?” Vodyanitsa exclaims. “Why did you jump in front of that attack like that? You nearly scared me to death!”
“It’s a good thing you survived the fright, then. That would have undone all my hard work,” Odette remarks.
It’s an attempt at a joke – an ill-conceived one, by the looks of things, as Vodyanitsa balls her hands up into indignant fists. There are tears in her eyes. “You… you… idiot!” she yells. “We didn’t even know whether the plan had worked yet! You could have died for real!”
“And if I hadn’t intervened, you might have died instead,” Odette explains. “In the moment, taking that hit seemed like the most strategically viable course of action.”
Vodyanitsa sniffles. “I’m tough. I could have taken it.” (She couldn’t.) “I just… what was I supposed to do if I lost you?”
She would move on, Odette thinks. “Would it have been preferable if I had lost you?” Odette wonders.
“Ugh,” Vodyanitsa groans, rubbing her eyes. Her legs seemingly give out, and she takes a seat on the snowy ground. “Stop… making sense like that. I know I’m being stupid.”
“Hey now, let’s not go calling ourselves stupid, okay?” Vesna unhelpfully interjects from off to the side. “Vodyanitsa, you clearly care about Odette a whole lot. And Odette going so far to protect you just means she also deeply cares about you!”
Odette shoots Vesna a death glare.
“…In a totally normal, best-pals kind of way!” Vesna quickly adds.
“Right,” Vodyanitsa murmurs. She looks downcast.
Odette was the cause of this bad mood. She has to be the one to fix it. “I’m sorry for upsetting you,” Odette says, choosing her words very carefully. She needs to be calming and reassuring, without giving away the true depth of her emotions. “I just didn’t want to see you hurt.” Odette takes a seat on the ground beside Vodyanitsa. Should she put her arm around her? Would that be going too far?
“I know, you were just trying to help,” Vodyanitsa sighs. Then, without warning, she leans her entire body into Odette. “Hold me,” she demands.
Well, that solves Odette’s conundrum. She wraps her arms around Vodyanitsa, and the Water Imp grabs her hands in her own, and nuzzles under her chin. “Is this adequate?” Odette asks.
“It’s pretty good,” Vodyanitsa answers. Then she lets out a wistful sigh, and begins to play with Odette’s fingers. “Huh. I think I get now why you were so touchy after the theater, when I… you know, died,” she remarks. “It feels like I can’t let go of you, even for a second, or you’ll disappear. It’s the same feeling you had, right?”
It is not the same feeling. To Vodyanitsa, Odette is merely a colleague, perhaps a close friend. It’s likely just the shock that’s making her this affectionate. Back when Odette believed she had lost Vodyanitsa, it felt like all the color had vanished from her life, like her heart had been ripped from her chest. But even still, she nods and says, “Yes, that’s exactly it.”
Vodyanitsa stays in Odette’s arms for a little while longer after that, and Odette silently prays that the Water Imp can’t feel how fast her heart is beating.
“You’re so needy,” Odette remarks.
“Yeah? Well, you’re so mean,” Vodyanitsa pouts.
“Yeah,” Odette sighs. “I know.”
. . .
The next week is a bit of a blur. Between assisting with the rebuilding of Rankova Zorya (again), getting roped into being ‘ambushers’ for Vesna’s little side hustle, plus balancing her Fatui, Rokot, and ballerina duties, Odette doesn’t really get a break. Even if she cannot feel the pain in her muscles, the exhaustion still exacts a toll. She takes it all in stride, of course. She never lets her poise falter for even a moment. But if she falls into her dressing room chair a little more heavily at the end of the day, that’s entirely her business.
Then Vodyanitsa places a platter full of cake on the table in front of her. “Ta-daa! Eat up!”
Odette blinks, to make sure she isn’t seeing things. “…What is this?”
Vodyanitsa looks at her like she’s stupid. “It’s a cake.”
“I can see that. Why is it here?” Odette asks, an eyebrow raised. She looks over the cake. IT’s quite elaborate – multiple layers, pearly white icing with blue accents, and intricate decorations. At the very top is a solitary figurine of a swan. “And who made it? This is… far more complex than anything you’ve baked in the past.”
Vodyanitsa giggles. “Remember that super famous chef from Fontaine, Escoffier? I commissioned her!” she proclaims. “This cake is guaranteed to be just about the tastiest thing you’ve ever had. Go on, try it!”
Ah, that explains it. Vodyanitsa loves to get these sorts of extravagant gifts for her friends. Right now, there are probably cakes being shipped out to Alyosha, Vesna, and who knows how many other people. Odette sighs. “Vodyanitsa, you know I’m on a diet. I can’t.”
“Diet, schmiet!” Vodyanitsa scoffs derisively. “All that stuff’s a bunch of nonsense anyway. You’ll never get stronger if you’re starving yourself all the time!”
“So you’ve said. Repeatedly,” Odette points out. She loves Vodyanitsa, but the Water Imp has a habit of being a bad influence on her. She has to stay strong – no matter how much she wants to give in. “My nutritional intake is fine, I’m perfectly healthy. I will be significantly less healthy if I eat this massive cake.”
“I’m not saying you have to eat the whole thing at once!” Vodyanitsa insists, crossing her arms. “Just have a slice or two now, we can save the rest for later.” Then she puts her hands under her chin, and bats her eyes plaintively. “Please, Odette? It was made especially for you…”
Damn her. Odette regrets ever telling Vodyanitsa about the effect her pleading has on her. “No. I can’t,” Odette replies, trying to keep her voice steady and confident. “I appreciate the gesture, really. But the next time you decide to purchase a bunch of expensive gifts for people, you can keep my name off the list. It’s okay.”
Vodyanitsa frowns, looking confused and a little… hurt? “Odette, you’re the only person I got a cake for.”
Odette forces herself to remain calm. This might not mean anything. “Why?”
“Because…” Vodyanitsa begins, before cutting herself off. Then, after two false starts, she continues, “…you know, we’re really close friends, right? So I thought I’d just… show my appreciation, and congratulate you on all your hard work lately!”
Right, of course. That’s all. Still… if Vodyanitsa really went this far, there’s no sense in letting her time (and money) go to waste. “…Alright, fine. But you’re helping me eat it.”
“Sounds good to me!” Vodyanitsa declares. She produces two plates and some cutlery out of thin air, then pulls up another chair and sits down. “Here, I’ll cut you a slice!”
As Vodyanitsa gets to work, Odette takes the opportunity to examine the cake again. It really is a work of art – that Fontainian chef did a spectacular job – but there’s one small thing that Odette notices. “If this cake really is intended to celebrate our friendship… shouldn’t both of us be represented on it?” she wonders.
Vodyanitsa raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well, this little swan figure at the top is clearly a symbol of myself,” Odette explains. “But there’s no fish figure for you. It would be nice if we were both at the top of the cake together.”
There’s a choking sound, and Odette looks up to see Vodyanitsa choking on nothing. “I-I… you…!” she stammers, before spearing a bite of cake on a fork and holding it up to Odette. “H-here’s your cake. Open up!”
Odette’s cheeks burn. “Are you… seriously going to feed me like that?”
Vodyanitsa pauses. She looks down at the fork, then back up to Odette. “Yes, I am,” she decides, with more confidence.
“Alright, fine. Suit yourself,” Odette sighs.
And although she acts annoyed with every bite that Vodyanitsa pushes past her lips, on the inside, Odette allows herself to relish the moment a little. It’s a small morsel of domesticity – the sort of feeling that belongs to pretty village girls and innocent waifs, not to a killer like her. This will never be her future. But in the moment, Vodyanitsa seems bound and determined to convince Odette otherwise.
…This girl is definitely going to be the death of her.