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『And Your Dearest Fantasy』
“I don’t understand how you speak so pridefully of such a pitiful workspace, the state of this room barely puts you a hair above Sandrone.” The Fair Lady scorned, a mildly disgusted expression adorned her face as she kicked at the mess around her feet.
The current state of the Doctors’ lab was less than presentable, with paper scattered on every surface, piles of scrap metal stacked high in the corners, and unsealed test vials and syringes haphazardly thrown about the office. The air buzzed with the sound of various machines trilling in the distant background, slowly chipping away at her patience with every grating noise.
“Well I’m glad you have such a simple job that you don’t even have any clue about what it’s like having to deal with actually important things,” Il Dottore snapped back, his back turned to Signora as he slammed open cabinets and searched through various shelves in a frustrated manner.
Signora stood to the side as he took his anger out on his property, examining the hot-headedness of the man in front of her. A sigh. This obviously wasn’t prime, he would never let himself lose it over some simple mess. In fact, he wouldn’t let his office space get this messy in the first place. The current situation reflected only a younger, more irrational and impulsive Dottore.
“You knew Pulcinella wanted these documents weeks ago. Honestly, it’s stupid enough I even need to follow up on this.” She spat, crossing her arms, “For a man who preaches about his seniority over me you certainly don’t enjoy following through with acting that way.”
“I am busy ,” he growled, facial muscles clearly scrunched under his mask. Dottore raised with an exhale of frustration, knocking more papers off the sideboard as he did so. “Epsilon 02, here! Now!” he yelled into the backspace of his office. Signora was honestly impressed with how he managed to make such a large workspace look so cramped with all of the mess. She raised a curious eyebrow as sounds of pattering footsteps began to emerge from deeper within the office, her face being stuck with gentle shock as a small child turned the corner to face them. The child was small, he couldn’t have been any older than 9 at the most, short enough to hide behind the desk whilst merely being hunched. Realisation slowly fell upon the witch's face as she took in the child's appearance; pale blue, fluffy hair that had gentle curls framing his face, piercing red eyes, and a pure white outfit that looked loosely Sumerian-inspired in its detailing. Hm. She’d heard rumours of the doctor's younger clones being spotted running about occasionally, some fatui claiming a blue-haired child had been breaking into rooms and stealing various items on command of his superior. She supposed this verified said rumours.
“Epsilon! Those reports on the abyssal activity within Mondstadt, where did you put them!? They were meant to be left on my desk!”
In response to the sudden yelling, the child's eyes merely widened a fraction before he wordlessly began to search, standing up on his tiptoes to riffle through various stacks of reports on desks. Signora slightly tilted her head in curiosity, the child had barely paid her a short glance before breaking into his search. He didn’t react the way she assumed a child would towards the yelling either, seemingly used to his elder counterparts' short temper.
Her curiosity quickly twisted, a smirk finding its way onto her expression as she continued to observe the younger harbingers' every move. “To think such an obedient child has the ability to grow up into such a raucous entity… I would find it fascinating to speak with the people who raised you. If you even were raised by more than a group of stray hilichurls, that is.”
If the child froze for a brief moment at those words, both adults ignored it. Instead, Dottore found his glare growing competitive at the implications.
“Is that so, my Fair Lady? I was unaware you were aware of the complexities of parenthood?” The sharp grin that covered the doctors face was ominous enough to scare away even the most dedicated of fatui subordinates.
“I’d say with confidence I know more than you ,” she gave Il Dottore a once over before shifting her weight onto the other heel, her expression hardening.
A beat of silence, before the doctor began to take slow steps forward. He treaded on top of whatever crap was on the floor, uncaring towards the various rustling and crunching sounds as his boots echoed on the metal floor. Signora swore for a moment she saw his eyes flicker with mischief under his metal mask.
“You know, La Signora ,” he placed a sickeningly sweet emphasis on his words, “when I found out that you were a fellow Sumeru Academia alumni I was truly intrigued. It is nice to have a co-worker you can relate to after all. I do hope you don’t mind, but I found myself quite curious after I heard that and took it upon myself to have a little look at what you’d been up to during your stay in my homeland.”
“I didn’t take you for much of a stalker, Doctor, most men just talk with me if they wish to figure me out.” She tried to match his sweet tone but the underlying animosity was clear.
“Well you can not blame me now, can you? As charming as you are, my lady, you don’t have the nicest reputation now, do you?”
“Perhaps that should have been a word of warning to you, then.”
The ensuing stare off between the fellow harbingers felt like it could last an eternity, two deadly figures feared across nations refusing to back down to each other. The tension was so thick you’d need a claymore to cut it.
“Blaming a heretic for getting curious is just silly now, isn’t it? If you were that desperate to hide it maybe you should have stormed up to that Sumeru Clinic and use that little power you learnt to burn those medical recor-”
A harsh, sharp smack noise pierced the air, and for a moment the entire room around them seemed to pause. After only a few seconds had passed, a burgeoning red mark was beginning to form upon Dottores cheek. His head had whipped to the side with the force of it, so harsh in fact that his mask could be heard clattering to the floor with it. Shocked red eyes met deadly grey ones.
The doctor found himself staggering over his words, bringing a gloved hand up to touch the mark before pulling away with a hiss gritted through his teeth. Before he could conjure up anything intelligent to say in response, the crimson witch stepped closer, her pointed gloved hands coming to grasp the doctors white shirt and pull him closer. The rage coming off of her could be felt in the heat emanating out from her aura. With a stone cold expression, she spoke numbly, her expression as furious as a thousand flames while her expression was as cold as the Tsaristas will, “you’d do good to keep your nose out of a Ladies business, Zandik.” With that, she released him with a bit too much force, sending him stumbling backwards enough for his back to smack against one of his side boards.
A deadpan expression was painting her face as she turned, meeting eyes with the child in the room. She had honestly forgotten about his presence. Epsilon seemed to flinch as their gaze met, hands tightening around the stack of papers gripped in his hands.
Approaching slowly, as to not scare the little one anymore, she simply extended her hand out to him expectantly. She shouldn’t spare much sympathy for the child, he was just a younger version of Dottore afterall, but the sight of the child tensing as her hand came closer to him made her heart clench, if only a little bit.
Gently, he placed the stack of reports in her grasp and bowed his head in respect and to avert his gaze. Signora gave no response.
Turning on her heel sharply, the only noises that could be heard as she exited were the crisp click of her shoes and the disgruntled complaints from her coworker.
『Is To Grow A Baby In Me』
The cold weather of Snezhnaya whipped around the Fair Lady as she dragged her heels through the snowy pathways that led up to the palace. The snow was relentless as it nipped at her skin, yet she couldn’t help but feel a certain comfort in it. She had just returned from Mondstadt, the Anemo Archons gnosis sat tucked away in a box under her fur coat. That nation always made her feel much too warm.
Signora was not the type of lady to find shame in her own powers, completely willing to utilise the flame of her witchcraft alongside her gift of cryo delusion. And yet, the nation of freedom brought too much emotional baggage for her to find herself at ease in the city. She always felt as if she was burning up without even thinking of her pyro abilities.
The cold air burned her airways as she inhaled as much as her lungs allowed, holding it for a second too long before exhaling & relishing in the feeling.
For such a busy place that housed hundreds of workers and employees, Zapolyarny Palace always seemed so empty. She honestly found it impressive how it could be organised where nobody was around unless they were needed for an active job. No loiterers led to a much lower risk of eavesdropping, she had found out. Just the way she liked it.
Signora enjoyed taking her time as she wandered down the winding and expansive corridors of the royal palace, following a familiar route. She attempted to keep her mind occupied as she did, trying to latch onto the persisting sensation of the cold rather than the oddly uncomfortable heat emanating from where the Gnosis was stored. She knew her companion wouldn’t mind her leisurely pace, in fact, he was probably expecting her to take her time. Nobody who truly knew La Signora would expect her to be all smiles and smirks after a visit to the nation of freedom.
After what felt like a lifetime of walking, which in reality was merely a few minutes, she arrived outside of a large and embellished door. Two pyro agents stood either side, immediately bowing their heads in tandem with one another as they noticed her approach. She nodded back out of politeness, clearly disinterested in engaging with them. The short exchange quickly came to a close as they opened the door for the harbinger, allowing her entry before closing it behind her again.
Signora found herself in a familiar office, a large and round room with sparse decorations outside of the bookshelves that lined the walls. Hundreds of novels and reports reaching all the way up to the expansive ceiling. She imagined there must have been thousands in here alone. Apart from that, the only other points of interest became a large but sparsely covered desk near the back of the room, positioned directly under a large stained glass window, the blue dyes of it only enhancing the natural ambiance of the Snezhnayan night, and an active but unmoving game of chess settled off to the side of the room.
“Rosalyne,” a gruff and stern voice greeted her, glancing at her from beyond his desk.
“Pierro,” she replied in kind, approaching and sitting in the cushioned seat across from him. Both of their faces remained apathetic and cold, but the warmth in their shared presence wasn't lost on either of them. The common belief perpetuated about harbingers is generally a very correct one, the fatui harbingers are not prone to getting along. But that generalisation can not be applied without fault. Certain harbingers are much more willing to endure others' presence than you may expect. One Signora found herself able to tolerate being Pierro. He had been the one to recruit her from Mondstadt after all.
“I take it your mission was a success?” The elder raised his eyebrow expectantly, not showing any doubt that Signora would have failed her mission.
Silently, she reached within her jacket and pulled out a small, wooden box, barely larger than her hand. With gentle yet all too eager hands, she placed it down infront of her superior, seemingly preferring to maintain eye contact with him over glancing at the box.
A short sigh fell from his lips, taking the box in his hands and placing it on the far side of the desk, out of either of their visions. Rosalyne hated how she could see the gentle pity in the director's eyes.
“I do appreciate your effort for this mission, I understand it may not have been the most appealing task for you.”
“It matters not how appealing it is. A Harbingers job is to serve our commands, I was simply doing as instructed.”
“Your obligation does not negate the work and effort put into your task, though. A weaker woman would not have been able to confront such a place from her past.” Signora knew what Pierro was doing here. He always had been one of the more tender-hearted of their ranks. She believed she had heard Columbina describe him as a sincere bleeding heart who simply had no blood left to bleed. Signora found that a fitting description.
“It wasn't as if I got no satisfaction out of the job, beating down that damned archon certainly made it atleast partially worth it.”
“I trust you're not hurt?” The words of concern sent a pang of ache through the lady's heart. All too familiar words while discussing an all too familiar situation.
She remembers it clear as day, how Pierro had found her. She was a mess, completely unbecoming of the harbinger she was to become. Rosalyne had been originally found in a corner of her hometown, sobbing so hard yet crying no tears. The fact of the matter was her tears had simply all burnt up.
The aftermath of finding Rostams dead body by their shared home was burned into the young maidens psyche for all of time. She remembered hearing the news of her lovers return whilst in Sumeru, being absolutely elated to return home and tell her lover the wonderful news that she had been told merely a few weeks prior at a doctors visit. Instead, finding her partners cold and bleeding corpse.
Grief had struck her faster than a shooting star, and for the first time in her life, Rosalyne felt like she lost connection with her body. She was unsure how long she had spent crying over Rostam, nor was she sure when her pyro abilities had taken over her body, flames licking up every inch of her skin, crawling inside her heart and making its home, but all she knew was she couldn't stop.
The next thing she knew, an unfamiliar man had been taking her hand and helping her stand. His hands were cool and icy, providing a temporary relief from the absolute ache of fire that scorched her soul.
“Your control over the pyro element is impressive,” she remembers him saying after leading her to a nearby campsite, “your flames consume you and yet they don't devour your flesh. Still, it takes the best of you. You have a fever, your internal body heat is much too high. I hope you do not mind, dear Rosalyne, but I would like to check you for possible harm.”
She remembered mindlessly agreeing, feeling too numb to even protest. It was later that night that the second wave of grief struck her once her medical results came back.
Painful scorching numbness replaced with ice cold apathy, it had taken her awhile to recover, even after the gift of a cryo delusion.
The Fair Lady scrunched her eyes closed and cringed at the memory. It was no use crying over it now, not years later.
“Not at all,” she suddenly rose from her seat, uncaring of the possible rudeness of her action, “Barbatos got off much worse than I did.”
A beat of silence, before the director raised his hand to dismiss her, a sympathetic expression hidden under his impartialness, “I thank you for your service, La Signora.”
“Of course. May the Tsaristas benevolence be with you, Director.'' She turned to leave, a slight eager motion to her movements.
“Likewise, with you.”
『I Could Be A Good Mother』
“You must not spoil them too much, Signora. They will start to believe all they need to get through life is a smile and flowery language.” Arlecchino sternly spoke, arms crossed as she observed her fellow harbinger gently place a flower into a young girls hair upon the child's request. The children of the Schneznyan House of Hearth branch had recently begun to become closer acquainted with the Fair Lady as her trips increased in frequency.
At first, many of the children cowered from her, fearing her tall and intimidating stature as she wandered the halls. Slowly though, the children began to figure out ways to speak with her. Politeness was key, as was respect. And though it’s only a rumour, many children who’ve met her claim she has a small bias towards girls.
“Oh? I thought you out of anyone, Knave, would understand the value in a smile and some flowery words. Is that not a core part of our job as diplomats?” She smiled, one that reflected an unusual amount of sincerity. After Signora felt satisfied with the young girl's hair, she gave her a gentle pat on the head and raised herself to her full height.
The Knave responded with a simple scoff before looking expectantly at the girl, “What do you say now?”
“Thank you so much, Miss Signora!” the girl positively beamed, bowing her head in respect.
“Wonderful, now run along, Calina.”
“Yes father! Goodbye father,” Calina smiled before skipping back off into one of the various rooms down the corridor, a childish smile plastered on her face.
Arlecchino let out a gentle hum of satisfaction at the child's manners before turning to face her companion, her mouth opening to begin her statement before snapping it closed at the sight. Signora seemed… oddly mellow all of a sudden. Her prideful smirk had vanished and been replaced with what seemed like an expression of forced blankness. The Knave could read through it all too easily, Signora was hiding something.
Electing to ignore it, The Knave led the way through the House of The Hearth until they reached her office on the top floor. Raising her hand to put the soldiers guarding it at ease, she proceeded to enter, La Signora only a step behind her. The two harbingers settled themselves comfortably on a pair of the sofas Arlecchino had within her room, sitting across from each other with a simple wooden coffee table situated between them and a couple mugs of boiling hot tea.
While the majority of meetings between fellow harbingers were exclusively meant to exercise formal business, the occasional personal meeting was not beyond comprehension. La Signora may not go as far as to say Arlecchino was a friend of hers, but she certainly was not a rival.
Calm conversation dwelled between the pair for a while, throwing around short topic conversations with skilled efficiency that would only be expected to be found in such proficient diplomats. The recently acquired Geo Gnosis, the childish incompetence of their youngest Harbinger (trash-talking their fellow coworkers always was a favourite topic of theirs), and even the current status of the House of Hearth.
“How are those plans for the future orphanage expansion proceeding, then?” Rosalyne asked between short sips of her refreshing hibiscus tea.
The Knave made a noise of affirmation, “satisfactory. Although, it’s not without the occasional hitch in plans. Some of the smaller details still need refining, we’ve found a suitable location closer to the centre of Sumeru city that we wish to convert into the building, but finding a regional branch manager is still in progress, not to mention we don’t have a title for this branch. But I suppose that’ll come with the process. Hopefully, we’ll find a nice sibling for the Qadir branch.”
“Qadir branch?” The witch raised an inquisitive eyebrow at that.
“Mhm, each branch of the House of the Hearth takes on an honourary title to identify it. Usually, we get the name from someone with heavy involvement in the process. Qadir was the name of the man who helped us get through the legal process to set up the first Sumeru branch.”
“Ah, I understand. Well I’m sure the branch will be as exceptional as ever. I do hear you’re a wonderful father.” there it was again, Arlecchino noticed. That slight clip in Signora's voice and the forced blankness on her expression. Now that they were in a solitary space, the Knave dared to brave the question.
“You seem quite uptight currently, my Fair Lady? I do hope nothing is off-putting you?”
“Of course not, you’re as amiable of a host as ever, my dear Knave.”
Arlecchino let the silence sit within the air for perhaps longer than was needed before speaking again, gently placing her teacup down as she did, “I understand we are not the closest that two people can be, Rosalyne, but if you’ll allow me to be as bold as to remind you that I am a willing ear if something is troubling you.”
The Crimson Witch tensed at that, her sharp fingers tightening around her mug as Arlecchino could have sworn she watched the liquid inside of it steam up again.
Rather than giving a straight answer, she let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, “you may not feel it, but you certainly are a lucky woman, Peruere,” her voice had a slight scratch to it as if she was holding back something.
“Is that so?”
“Of course, you’re rich in such a common privilege, parenthood is a lovely thing.”
Ah. Multiple realisations crashed over the Knave all at once. Not only was Signora seemingly jealous of all the children Arlecchino cared for as a parent, but it clearly implied something deeper. A personal block that prevented her from becoming a mother.
“Well, I’m sure my children would be more than happy for your increased visits. If they became personal then you wouldn’t need worry about having to schedule anything.”
When Signora opened her eyes again, all that Arlecchino saw reflected in her glassy gaze was turmoil and a gentle numbness.
“I do appreciate your offers, immensely. Yet I believe it’s not what I am searching for. I believe my opportunities have already passed me. And I have no one to blame but myself”
Arlecchino was all too aware of the growing fog in the lady's eyes, choosing to ignore how small tears started to manifest against their host's will. Unsure what the optimal thing to say was while Rosalyne seemed to be working through this sudden conflict, she chose to stay silent, wordlessly encouraging her to continue.
“Truly, it was all I had wished for when I was a young maiden. To have my own child, but when that opportunity was given to me I threw it away. I allowed my grief to consume me, grief which fueled the fire of my turmoil… I was young and stupid .” Gentle gasps bled into her sentences as she caught her breath in an attempt to prevent a full release of her emotions, “a proper parent would have known to stay level-headed. But no, I allowed my grief to burn. I took my powers for granted, Peruere, I forgot my responsibility to my own damn daughter .” Her voice finally cracked, allowing the tears to spill.
Silently, The Knave stood from her own seat and left to grab something from her desk, returning a mere moment later and sitting herself down by Rosalynes side, a box of tissues in hand. With a gentle hand, she removed the teacup from the fair lady's grasp, taking a mental note of how the tea had suddenly frozen over, and placed it back upon the table. With a gentle hand, she replaced the empty space in her hands with a tissue.
“Regret is but a burden for the weak, Rosalyne. You know this, and you know as well as I do that your grief can not be your downfall. But… as a person who has dealt with countless children, I won’t lie to you when I tell you that you were a wonderful mother…”
“I took that life from her, Peruere… she could have grown up to be such a gorgeous girl,” a choked sob fell from her lips, “my poor, darling Carina…”
Carina, huh?
A couple of tender minutes passed between the two coworkers as the only noises that could be heard were the gentle sniffs of the Fair Lady & the quiet ruffles of fabric as Arlecchino gently rubbed Signora's arm in comfort. Once the quiet sobs had died down, the Knave took the initiative to speak once again.
“In dealing with an Orphanage, I’ve met virtually every type of parent there is. I will tell you this not to comfort you but as a simple fact, Signora. A bad mother would not spend 500 years in grief of her child. You must learn to forgive yourself for your past. I’m sure it’s what not only Rostam would want, but a child never enjoys seeing their parent hurt.”
Gentle dabs of the tissue picked up the fallen tears from Signoras eyes, finally gathering the strength within herself to glance over at Peruere “... you mean what you say?”
“Always and forever, my dear Fair Lady.”
『And I Wanna Be Your Wife』
The silent night of Snezhnayan winter hummed in the air, the cold breeze flowing a little less harshly than regular.
Today, the remaining 8 Fatui Harbingers and their Director had met to pay their final respects and farewells to their fallen comrade. The contents of La Signoras body had been seen by none, presumably too little left of it to provide much to look at.
The official, mandatory procession had ended half an hour ago, the majority of the harbingers fleeing the very second they were no longer obliged to stay around and pretend to pay respects.
It had only been the first, Capitano, and the fourth, Arlecchino, who had stuck around long enough to watch Pierro utilise the blessing of their archon to encase her tomb in a thick layer of Cryo, preventing her body from ever being disturbed. After Pierro had left, the remaining two harbingers stood in mutual silence, gazing upon the eternal tomb.
To say Arlecchino had felt frustrated listening to certain colleges talk earlier was an understatement, she swore if Pantalone wasn’t so crucial to their plans she would have slit his throat years ago for the stuff that man says.
It had barely been a month ago that Arlecchino had held her colleague as she cried her eyes out to her, opening up about the trauma of losing her child. In that moment, the Fair Lady seemed unusually human to the Knave. And yet here she was, dead. All too human indeed.
“Why are you still here, Captain?” her cold voice broke through the atmosphere, “I can not recall you ever being so close with Rosalyne.”
Capitano turned his masked face to look at Peruere whilst her eyes remained locked upon Signora's tomb. “The courtesy of honour is to pay all of your respects to a fallen comrade. Her sacrifice was significant and even more-so was her great contributions to our cause.”
“She was more than a sacrifice.”
“Hm, of course. It’s as you said though, Lohefalter and I were never the closest. I have little to reflect upon in terms of our memories other than our professional relationship. However, reminiscing on our past conversations does remind me of a question she once posed me.”
The knave merely raised an eyebrow, bringing her arms up to fold together under her thick winter coat.
“Once, many years ago, she had asked me if I had ever encountered rumours of a certain blessing that can be found in the Land of Pyro. One that could revive a soul with its burning embers, restoring life. At the time, I was completely unaware of what she was talking about.”
“And now?”
“And now… The Director has outlined his desire for me to travel to Natlan and investigate such a rumour. It won’t be for awhile, I will requite certain assistance from The Damsel for this mission.”
Little more was spoken in response to this other than a short noise of approval from The Knaves lips, seemingly satisfied with what she had heard. A few more moments of silence stretched through the air.
After Capitano seemed to finish reciting his mental condolences and farewells, the warrior crouched to the floor, placing one hand upon the frozen soil of the tundra and reciting a short prayer for peace in the Mondstidian language. Rising again, he spoke, “I hear your plans for Sumeruan Orphanage expansions have been approved and are in the works as we speak, no?”
“You’d be correct, Captain, our renovations are due to finish in 2 months and all management has been selected and approved through training,” she spoke numbly, not overly invested in providing a report at this current moment in time.
“Hm, satisfactory work, as always, Knave.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m quite grovelling for your approval at this very moment, Captain.”
“Of course, my apologies. I’ll leave you be. May the Tsaristas benevolence bless you.”
Arlecchino refrained from responding as she heard the crunch of thick boots in the snow grow more and more distant, continuing to gaze upon her comrade's final resting place.
When Arlecchino had received the news of Rosalyne's demise, it would be too kind to say she was shocked. She was already impressed that she had managed to retrieve two of the archons Gnoises without any significant harm upon her body, it had only been a matter of time. Yet that did not wave off the unfamiliar twist in her chest as the situation sunk in. La Signora, the first ever Fatui Harbinger she was introduced to after her ascension to the role of the knave. The woman who was sweet enough to guide her when she was but a young fatui member. The woman who, after over 400 years, had opened up to her mere weeks ago. The woman who was now left in so many pieces she was unsalvageable.
Tensing her jaw tight, Peruere refused to allow a visible emotion to show. Weakness was not her style. Despite this, the small, childish nag inside of her chest refused to cease, the reminder of the letter of approval she had received for the new Sumeru Oprhanage sat heavy in her mind.
It was true that all House of Hearth branches were named after a significant figure in their development. Yet, it may go forever unknown why Branch Carina is named as such.