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“You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath.”
—X—
Arlecchino couldn’t remember the last time she had seen the Fatui Harbingers together. She could remember Rosalyne being her usual self, cocky and confident. Ajax with his cheerful, upbeat, eager personality. She could remember everyone yelling at one point. Flashes of it reverberated around in her head, but it was all as blurry as a forgotten film reel to her. Then again, wasn’t everything?
Shaking her dishevelled azure hair out of her face, she sighed, leaning against the brick wall and fishing a pack of cigarettes out of her coat pocket. The cold whipped against her face, staining her cheeks red and snowflakes slid off her clothes gently, their elegant dance through the air coming to a rest on the snow-covered ground beneath her.
Today’s meeting with the Harbingers left her solemn, longing, reminiscing. She hated it. She was never one for sentiment. Blocking the unforgiving world out with her stoicism and adamancy has always worked for her, since showing weakness when the monster was on the prowl did not lead to a satisfactory outcome. The key to this is to become the monster herself. This she learnt the hard way.
She lit a match and brought it up to her cigarette, bringing a sliver of warmth to her cold, rigid heart that resonated with the cold seeping through the pores of her heavy winter coat. She wanted nothing but to evade the thoughts provoked by the meeting, but drew a blank. A cigarette was a momentary distraction, yet she couldn’t escape the memories that tried to incarcerate her against her own will.
She was suddenly aware of a presence next to her. (Arlecchino appreciated her hard-earned moments of solitude, but she couldn’t decide whether this intrusion was one she wanted or did not want. Again, this was another means of distraction, yet it was one that left too many memories in its wake.) She opted to pretend not to notice, ignoring the intruder who now occupied the space next to her, leaning against the wall (as she has, albeit regrettably, done countless times before).
“Arlecchino.”
The tender voice that was stained with her name froze her even more than the winter chill raging through the land of Snezhnaya. It struck her like a sword to the heart, threatening to demolish the walls she built around herself. Arlecchino pleaded with herself to stand her ground, but she was having difficulty holding back the urge to flee. (After all, running away was all she’s ever known.)
She allowed herself a glance at the intruder. There in all her elegance and majesty stood Columbina, her docile, pleading eyes scrambling for refuge in Arlecchino’s austere ones, void of emotion. Arlecchino surmised that Columbina was not backing down without a fight, so she donned her armour and unsheathed her sword.
“What do you want,” she drawled, her hand going to the cigarette she lit moments before. She exhaled, a puff of smoke emitting from her mouth, coming to rest right in front of Columbina in a dismissive manner. Columbina was not impressed but wasn’t discouraged.
“We haven’t…” she sucked in a breath and held it. “We haven’t talked.. we haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“And that concerns me.. how, exactly?” Arlecchino shot back, coldly.
“Stop pushing me away!” Her voice was raised, her hands were balled into fists and her flawless features were contorted by the anger and resentment that overtook her. “You know full well what I’m talking about. Us, Arlecchino, us!”
In her rage, Arlecchino dropped her cigarette on the ground, letting it fizzle out, buried in the snow. “There was never ‘us’, Columbina.”
Spurred on by Arlecchino’s heartless remark, Columbina grabbed Arlecchino’s coat with her once delicate hands and pushed her up against the wall. “What about the promises we made together? What about the nights we spent together? What about the years we spent hiding together? Do they mean nothing to you?” She could see, she could almost taste the tears that threatened to spill out of Columbina’s desperate eyes. “Arlecchino, please. Come back to me.”
And in this heartless nation, in this unforgiving cold, in this dingy alley, the icy heart that Arlecchino bore, which withstood blow after blow of emotional agony, neglected years after years of emotions and pushed away any feeling that might render her helpless, thawed out and shattered. She allowed a single tear to escape her eye, but more importantly, revealing weakness to the only person she has ever truly loved.
In the other’s eyes, Arlecchino could see a myriad of visions she had once attempted to forget, only to fail. She could see her lover, her world, her reason to keep on living.
Her Columbina.
Years and years of yearning and want burst forth from the earth of their minds as Arlecchino placed a hand on Columbina’s cheek, delicately and lovingly and oh-so-gently. The look in her glassy eyes screamed millions of unspoken words, and in the wake of their heavy, erratic breathing, Arlecchino’s lips brushed against Columbina’s, and they kissed, and kissed, and kissed.
In the winter air, Arlecchino could feel herself grow warm under their shared passion and love that they buried long ago. Her once heart of ice now thawed, she didn’t — couldn’t — hold back, allowing herself this moment of reprieve from the cruel and unforgiving world that took everything from her. She wanted nothing but to shield Columbina from it and from everyone, so that no one knew about her — about them, allowing her to want her, to love her. She could finally be sure that Columbina will never be taken from her, ever.
But the heat of the moment ended, and reality secured Arlecchino in its grip once again. In a swish of cloaks and a bit of shuffling and shoving, Arlecchino was gone with the wind.
But Columbina could not forget that last unmistakable look Arlecchino shot her. It was one of remorse, one of guilt, one that said a thousand words Columbina understood and sympathised with.
A thousand words of love.
—X—
Columbina could remember the last time she had seen the Fatui Harbingers together.
It was a night full of hope, a night full of promises, and a night full of warmth and intimacy. Throughout the entire meeting, she couldn’t keep her eyes off Arlecchino. Her mysterious dark eyes a stark contrast against her pale complexion. Her plush, red lips that she longed to kiss. How she composed herself, her imposing stance, the way she conversed, the way she walked. Everything about her was worth remembering.
They had met outside after the meeting, in a place where no one could find them, and they shared the most passionate of kisses and the most intimate of secrets. Arlecchino had told her that she was the only person she ever truly loved, and she had believed her, and she has since held on to the blind hope that it would remain that way forever. Just the two of them.
Even when Arlecchino left her.
For it was the only thing that kept her going.
The only thing she ever really knew.