Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His mask was off and his breath ragged. A trail of wet, feverish kisses, hickies and bites went down from his jaw to collarbone, threatening to sneak under his half-unbuttoned shirt. One of his hands was playing with Regrator’s hair, while the other was holding on tightly to his desk. Dottore thought that they would probably have to take it somewhere else. He didn’t like the idea of having sex in his cabinet and putting at risk all the important research papers and equipment. Pantalone, however, didn’t seem to care, as he kept teasing Dottore with kisses and pressing him even more closely to the desk.

That was the state Columbina found them in.

“Damsellette,” Pantalone sighed, slowly turning his attention to her, but not quite pulling away from his colleague. Irritation was evident in his voice. “Coming unannounced, has anyone ever taught you manners?”

“Forgive me,” she laughed. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your date,” she said in a teasing manner as she looked between the Regrator, who clearly wanted her out of the room, and the Doctor, who quickly put his mask back on.

“You didn’t ‘interrupt’ anything,” Dottore said, maintaining his composure, as he put some distance between himself and the man whose warmth he could still feel against his bare skin. “What was it that you wanted?”

“To deliver this,” Columbina pulled out a letter from her sleeve and handed it over to the Doctor.

“And you’re doing this personally because..?” Pantalone questioned, just as irritated as he was before.

“My dear Regrator, you should know better than anyone else that unless a message is given directly to the Doctor's hands, it will most likely not reach him,” she smiled. “Althought, considering what I just witnessed, I’m starting to doubt you were just exchanging reports. In any case, your lovey-dovey business doesn't concern me.”

“Be very careful with your words, Columbina,” this time, it was Dottore’s pissed off tone that didn’t let her finish. However, the woman just laughed softly at his words.

“I’ve delivered the message, my job here is done,” Damselette was about to leave the cabinet, when Pantalone suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“You’ve been saying… weird things,” he whispered, leaning slightly closer to her, not wanting Dottore to overhear their conversation. “What exactly were you implying?”

“I wasn’t implying anything,” her innocent expression failed to soothe his nerves. He didn’t want to have some stupid misunderstanding among the ranks. Especially when it came to that creepy woman, who had a tendency to say the wrong things at the wrong time. “Everybody knows you two have been dating for the longest time,” for a moment, all Pantalone wanted was to tear apart Damslette’s face, just so that he didn’t have to see that unsettling smile. The thought disappeared just as quickly as it came. So have all of his other thoughts. The world has been reduced to his pounding heart and twitching eye.

Fury and disbelief choked his throat. The audacity to suggest he would get involved with someone romantically! That was what she meant, and that couldn’t have been further from the truth, Pantalone was certain. All he cared about was wealth, and shaking the world's order, he didn’t have time for love. Especially with someone like the Doctor. That man was the opposite of love. How could anyone ever think they were in a relationship? They just happen to share the same ideals and goals. Surely, Dottore was handsome, that was undeniable. And, considering his enthusiasm, he must have found Pantalone’s appearance pleasing too. But that didn’t go any further than that. They were just having sex from time to time, because that was what they both wanted. Nothing. More.

In this state, he didn’t notice Columbina leaving and Dottore approaching him from behind. His arms wrapped around his torso, suggesting that he was still in the mood to finish what they had started. The gesture snapped Pantalone out of his thoughts, and he gently pushed the man aside.

“Do you have any idea what she just said to me?” he slowly turned around to face his colleague, looking straight into where his eyes should be.

“What did she say?” the Doctor asked in a seemingly bored tone.

“She said we were dating,” Dottore tensed at his words but made no comment, and he continued. “For the longest time.”

“That’s an uncharacteristically stupid thing for her to say,” the man’s irritation finally matched that of Regrator.

“She said that apparently, everybody knows that!”

“How could they know something that isn’t even real? What could’ve possibly given them such an impression?!” that wasn’t the first time Dottore thought everyone around him must be on the same intellectual level as worms, but this time, he felt targeted by their ignorance, which wasn’t a common occurrence.

“If only I had known,” Pantalone gasped, rubbing his eyes. “We’re just business partners. I guess, people will find any reason to gossip.”

“Reason, huh?”

“I believe we should stop these rumors. They’re… They’re harmful for our reputation!” he finally let his anger snap out. “Did you hear what she called us?! Lovey-dovey! And said that everybody thinks so,” realising he has lost his composure, Pantalone took a deep breath in and out. “How could you expect your subordinates, colleagues and all others to take you seriously when they think you’re ‘lovey-dovey’? You understand what I mean, right?”

“Of course. How about we find out?” the Doctor smirked as though he was deciphering an ancient riddle and not trying to save his reputation. The Regrator was right. Naturally, this matter was to be taken seriously, but he couldn’t help but feel intrigued by the origins of such gossip. What could’ve let people to believe this kind of nonsense? The human mind was truly wonderful, at times. “Maria!”

Maria was a fatui agent, standing guard at his cabinet. If Damselette's words were true, she was supposed to know about the rumors, the Doctor figured. Pantalone understood the man’s intentions and quickly put in his signature smile as the woman entered.

“My lords,” she bowed deeply. “How may I be of service?” that was rare.

The Second Harbinger's subordinates were known to be lazier than other agents. With so many segments of himself, he didn’t require assistance in his lab. An occasional clean-up, surely, but nothing more. And being a person of his strength, he didn’t really need protection. Still, the protocol was to be followed, and he had dozens of people under his command, who had little to do. The Doctor rarely asked for help, but never denied it, when offered. His subordinates figured it out rather quickly and chose to stay out of his business as much as possible.

To have been called upon was a rare occasion. The woman was surprised that the Harbinger even knew her name, but she was working for him for almost three years, maybe that’s why he had it memorised. She should’ve given him more credit.

Maria loved her boss. Truly. People outside of Fatui thought him a monster, but within the organisation, he had a rather decent reputation. He wasn’t as cruel as the rumors painted him to be. Unethical, surely. Unethical at work and indifferent in life. Dottore wasn’t exactly known for mistreating his subordinates. Most failures, he could let slide, unless someone messed up with his research. In that case, yes, he had no mercy, but apart from that scenario, there was no reason to be afraid. Knowing how other Harbingers could get, Maria was extremely grateful she was assigned to the Doctor, so she decided to use this once-in-a-lifetime occasion to serve him to the best of her abilities. She did not, however, expect to hear the following words.

“Do you also believe the Regrator and I are involved… romantically?” he watched her reaction carefully. The way she quickly raised her head, looking between the two of them in panic, this expression said more to him than any words ever could. He sighed heavily, trying not to look at Pantalone in frustration. He just needed to know where this nonsense came from, that was the only way to stop it.

“I… yes. That’s what everybody is saying,” Maria finally muttered, averting her gaze. She hated to admit she was gossiping about her boss’ personal life, but something told her, he already knew that. For the first time in the last couple of years, she was afraid for herself. Dottore might’ve allowed them to slack off every now and then, but he didn’t seem like a person who would tolerate rumors like that. From what she could tell, he was in a bad mood, so she tried to choose her words carefully.

“And why exactly do you believe that?” that was Pantalone’s voice. His unfriendly smile was creeping her out, but she considered his words carefully.

In the past three years she not even once questioned that the Second and Ninth Harbingers were in a relationship. At first, it was presented to her as a simple fact by one of the agents who was working for the Doctor for over a decade. That agent said that they heard it from the person who worked here before and that they heard it from the person who worked here even earlier. Maria didn’t know for how many generations this goes into the past, but she was sure the story was old. Probably older than her. Despite the consistency of the story, it was hardly solid evidence, so what exactly made her faith so unwavering. Then it hit her. But could she really say such a thing out loud?

“All I know is rumors, sir.”

“Good. Rumors are exactly what we want to know,” Dottore said almost enthusiastically, urging her to speak. If he wanted to know so badly, surely he wouldn’t get mad at her honesty? He was a rather straightforward person himself, from what she could tell. In any case, it’s not like she had a choice.

“It’s commonly acknowledged that you always work together, on every single project. I don’t think there are other Harbingers who work so closely together. I guess that’s also a part of special treatment…”

“Special treatment?” Pantalone didn’t let her finish. He didn’t like where this was going.

“Yes, my lord. People have been saying that the funding for the Doctors projects is slightly higher than that of other Harbingers. Also, guarding this cabinet for the past three years I have noticed that your visits, lord Regrator, are more than occasional. You are an often, and I would dare to say, anticipated, guest here. And the other guards…” have heard you fucking many times, she thought, but decided to not bring this part up. “Have noticed the same,” she mumbled the first thing that came to her head. “Every successful project ends with a celebration with a rather exquisite dinner and, from what I’ve heard, an exchange of expensive gifts.”

“Yes, to seal the deal. A very common practice in business,” Regrator’s tone was condescending, a miserable attempt to mask his frustration.

“Of course, if you say so,” Maria whispered. She didn’t believe him in the slightest. No matter how she looked at it, when she said those words out loud, she realised there was no way the two were just business partners. That’s why she called that ‘special treatment’, because their other colleagues have never had these privileges she mentioned. She smirked at the thought that business was something they were doing with the other Harbingers, but for each other, ‘business’ was just an excuse to go on dates, see one another more often and have sex.

“But that’s not what it looks like to everyone else?” the Doctor indulged.

“It looks like you two can’t live without each other,” she said before she could think. Who in the world would say such a thing to their superior?! “Forgive me, my lord! I didn’t mean to say that,” she cried, bowing deeply.

“You may go now,” Dottore replied. He got what he wanted from her. The relief and gratitude in her gaze before she left amused him. How little these people need to be happy, he thought, finally turning to look at Pantalone, for the first time since the girl entered his cabinet. “So, what do you think?”

“Those ignorant fools simply don’t understand the rules of business. If we truly wanted to stop the rumors, we’d have to put an end to all of our projects. Unless… What was it that she said about special treatment? If you were to ask me, there is no such thing. Everybody gets what they deserve, but maybe that’s the key to stopping this nonsense,” the Regrator fixed his glasses, overthinking all the new information. Despite not wanting to stay away from the Doctor for too long(for purely business reasons, of course; he couldn’t trust anyone else with the discussion of such important projects), there was one thing that cheered him up. An uncontrollable smile twitched the corners of his mouth. It wasn’t his usual polite expression he wore to hide his true motives. With the Doctor he could be honest.

“Spit it out,” Dottore said then. He didn’t like the idea of cutting their projects. Pantalone was someone who accepted him completely and even matched his insanity. He took immense joy in working with the man. He wouldn’t want to lose such a valuable partner just to save his reputation. Naturally, he didn’t like that these rumors existed, but he could live with that. Pantalone on the other hand seemed rather triggered by the gossip. Well, if there was a way to stop that, they would do that. Dottore only hoped the price wouldn’t be too high.

“Let’s make a contract, my dear Doctor,” his voice was sweet and mischievous and it was hard to tell what was going on in his head. “Three months. I believe that should be enough to make people realise that we can live without each other.”

“Oh? And how are we going to do that?”

“Just give me a moment,” the Regrator went to the table to find a blank piece of paper and started writing their contract. When the formalities of the document were settled, he turned around to face the Doctor. “Now, how about we negotiate the terms?” he sat on one of the chairs and gestured for the other man to do the same.

“Something has got you all excited, and I can’t tell if it’s good or not,” Dottore mumbled, but took his seat in front of him. “So, what were you thinking?”

“First of all, I believe it best we end personal visits. Both of us. If there’s a need to discuss business, we should send a representative agent to speak on our behalf or communicate through letters. That would save both of us plenty of time and, hopefully, your subordinates will calm down,” not seeing him for three months sounded like something he was never supposed to do. Ever since they met, they were never apart for long, not truly, with all the segments around. Dottore was surely taking a big part in his life now, giving up on it, even for a few months sounded wrong. Then Damslette’s words came to his mind. Lovey-dovey. That was wrong too. That was the most wrong thing he’s ever heard and he intended to prove it. Sacrificing some quality time with the Doctor was a small price to pay. Besides, they would still see each other at the monthly Fatui meetings. Of course, the meetings! “I just remembered, this month’s meeting is next week. Will you be attending personally?”

“Yes, that was what that letter was about. Pierro must’ve noticed and didn’t like that I was sending segments in my stead. Or he wants something from me specifically,” he sighed. Of course the Jester noticed. The man practically raised him, he would see the difference.

“In that case, I think we should put a bit of an act for our dear colleagues. Let’s not address one another in conversation, unless absolutely necessarily. Shall we add that to the contract as well?” he smiled.

“Fine,” there were two points already.

“Now,” he grinned and rubbed his hands together. That was the moment Pantalone waited for. All previous conversations about it ended in Dottore’s favor, but now he finally had the chance to bring this up again. “Your funding.”

“That’s blasphemy,” Dottore spat. He knew exactly where this was going. He knew he wouldn’t like this contract.

“A very bold statement coming from you. I guess, not all rumors are untrue. I do play favourites when it comes to finances!” the Regrator beamed as he said that. He would take any opportunity so save some money. At the end of the day he was his own favourite.

“Then increase their funding.”

“Oh my, you’re desperate for that mora!” usually, after these words, they would tease each other about being desperate and, more often than not, end up far from the cabinet. But not this time. They didn’t have the luxury of distraction at the moment. “15%.”

“You’re not cutting my funding!”

“18,” Dottore didn’t want to give in, he couldn’t lose a single mora, and that man wanted to decrease his funding for 18% now. If he didn’t do anything quickly, he’d lose even more.

“5%,” silence followed. Of course, the Regrator wouldn’t agree so easily. He needed to be more stubborn.

“5.”

“12.”

“8. And that’s final.”

“Deal,” that wasn’t exactly what he wanted, but that was something. For the first time he managed to save some money from this wasteful man.

“I also have a term,” Dottore said. “Return Theta to me, and find yourself another doctor.”

“Fair enough,” Pantalone sighed. Theta was one of the ‘expensive gifts’ given to him after one particularly successful project. Now he would have to give him up. But maybe, it was for the better. Such a gift had probably caused a lot of questions to the gossiping crowd. “I’m sure you’ll put him to use. Is there anything else you’d like to add to the contract?”

“No,” Dottore replied and, when Pantalone finished making two copies, they signed the contract.

Chapter Text

“Who are you?” Maria asked as the woman she’s never seen before approached Dottore’s office.

“I’m here on behalf of lord Pantalone, to speak with the Doctor about his funding,” the woman said. She was short, but the confidence in her voice was grand. Theatrical, even. Almost compensating for her shaking hands that betrayed fear within her. The woman’s emotions, however, didn’t concern Maria. What concerned her was…

“I hope nothing has happened with the Regrator?” she inquired carefully. If he was feeling unwell, that would explain why he had sent someone else.

“Lord Pantalone is perfectly fine!” she exclaimed, forgetting all her worries. She was so fiercely protective of her boss, it made Maria giggle. But it only raised more questions.

“That’s good to know. But you know, he usually comes… personally?” she was closely watching the woman's expression. Wandering eyes, stiff lips, her hands were tightly pressing a pile of papers to her chest. Yes, Maria thought, there was definitely something she wanted to say. She just needed to test the waters a bit more. “I just found it weird he would send someone in his stead, that’s all,” it was, in fact, more than weird, considering the conversation with the two men she had just a couple of days ago.

“I…” the woman looked around and took a step closer to Maria. “I also thought it was weird,” she finally whispered. “I even heard lord Pantalone dismissed the Doctor’s segment, who worked for him. Oh, and also..,” she paused for a moment. Could she truly reveal this information? She shook her head at the thought. It wasn’t confidential or anything and the guard at Dottore’s cabinet would find out one way or the other. “And also, the reason I’m here is because the Doctor’s funding is to be reduced!”

Reduced?! Maria’s jaw dropped at the words. It all sounded too familiar. The dots in her head connected.

“I think I know what’s going on,” Maria mumbled and before the woman could say anything asked: “Hey, what was your name?”

“You can call me Nika!”

“Well, Nika, lord Dottore is currently in his lab. I’ll inform him of your arrival. Just wait here.”

Maria stormed out of the corridor, down the stairs, until she found the lab. An agent greeted her at the entrance.

“I have a message for the Doctor.”

“You know he doesn’t like being interrupted while working,” the man said quietly. She took a deep breath then.

“It’s urgent.”

The man looked at her with an expression that could only mean ‘you’re on your own now’ and knocked on the door. Soon after, a voice replied.

“Come in!”

“My lord,” Maria bowed to the man. “The Regrator has sent an agent to discuss your funding,” she felt the man who guarded the door glaring at her in shock.

“Already?” Dottore asked. There was no surprise in his voice. Did he somehow know that the Regrator wouldn’t visit him personally?

“Yes. Should I tell her to wait?”

“No need. I’ve just finished. I’ll be up in a minute,” he said and Maria left the lab.

“He sent a representative?” the guard grabbed her arm and whispered the question.

“Yes. Can you believe that? I heard his funding is to be reduced!” she couldn't keep the information to herself and, judging by the man’s reaction to her words, she figured that the entire staff would talk about it by the evening. He let go of her arm then and Maria rushed to her place of work.

“Listen to me,” she said as soon as she spotted Nika. Closing the distance between them, she whispered quickly: “Something’s off about both of them. And I happen to know something. I need you to watch lord Dottore very carefully for any weird reactions or phrases. I just need to confirm my suspicion, so we’ll talk when you’re finished, right?” she winked.

“R-right!” Nika said, full of enthusiasm. Gossip is a wonderful motivation, after all.

“Are you the one who came on Pantalone’s behalf?” Dottore’s voice startled both of them, as they quickly put some distance between them and bowed to him.

“Yes.”

“Follow me,” he said calmly and entered his office. He sat at the table and gestured for her to sit in front of him. Nika pulled out a letter from her pile of papers and handed it over to the Doctor.

“Lord Pantalone asked that you read this before we have our conversation,” she informed.

He opened the envelope and read the contents of the said letter. It was a quick note of Pantalone reminding him that the girl carried his will and words and a request to be polite with her. In other words, Regrator’s subordinates were only his to torment. It was short and formal. Very formal. Dottore frowned slightly at that. He couldn’t remember the last time Pantalone spoke to him in such a manner. He almost felt like a different person. A person the Doctor was not acquainted with. Pantalone that he knew was a teasing man who never missed the opportunity to speak his mind up. A man who chuckled as if the whole world was a joke only he could understand. A man that acted as if everyone owed him.

Dottore didn't feel an ounce of that man in the letter. The words were dry, ridden of any emotion, any arrogance and any mischief the Regrator always carried with himself. The words were rational and little.

Pantalone that he knew was so much more than these words.

He realised then, he was staring at the letter for far too long.

“So, what does the Regrator have to say to me?” he asked the girl who waited patiently for him to speak first this whole time.

“Lord Pantalone has carefully examined the list of your ongoing projects and found a few that bring unsatisfying results,” Nika found a specific paper with Pantalone’s observations and showed it to the Doctor. “Here you can see them. It was suggested that you close the research facility in Liyue as there was little progress in the last months,” she looked at his face, trying to figure the expression under his mask. Whatever it was that she imagined seemed to have frightened her. “I-in comparison to other p-projects, that is… In addition, Lord Pantalone proposed that you postpone the creation of the new segment for an undefined time,” her voice was getting quieter and quieter with each word, but Dottore still heard her perfectly.

He figured that “undefined” probably meant three months, the duration of their contract. He found that request rather reasonable and agreed to it quickly.

He wasn’t so quick to agree to the former. Surely, the research facility in Liyue wasn’t his most successful project, but the results weren’t ‘unsatisfying’ by any means. He could, however, see the Regrator’s chain of thought. Delta seemed to have lost interest in the ruin guards, but his opinion didn’t matter. What did matter is that based on his later reports it really looked like there wasn’t much to work with.

The idea didn’t sit right with the Doctor. His fascination with ruin guards has been a lasting one, and Delta should’ve been grateful for the opportunity to study them. But even if he sent someone else, would they really bring better results? Was there really nothing he didn’t know about the ruin guards left?

He sighed. Did he really have no other choice? He looked at the girl then, who was just sitting there quietly, with visible discomfort written all over her face, waiting for him to make his decision. He was long past the time when fear excited him. It was so utterly boring. Was that how business meet-ups usually went? If so, he had no desire to partake in any of them.

His sole amusement in the situation was Pantalone’s scheme. The girl was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Too scared of the Doctor, but too loyal to her boss to come back with nothing. Dottore, however, was certain that if he pressed her, she’d accept her own failure. The problem was that Pantalone himself wouldn’t. No, he would bore him to death. He would just send someone else the next day. Someone like her. Someone who wouldn’t say more than what was required of them. Someone too scared and ignorant to speak against him. Someone boring. Anyone would be boring in comparison to Pantalone, he had to admit, but he had no desire to prolong this torture. It was easier to just agree.

“Alright, I’ll sign it,” he could see the girl’s eyes lit up in disbelief. With shaking hands she extended to him two papers. After reading the document carefully, Dottore put his signature on both copies and returned one of them to her.

Nika left the office in confusion. That was nothing like she imagined. She took a deep breath and looked at Maria. The woman seemed nervous.

“That was faster than I anticipated. How did it go? Did you notice anything strange?”

“Y-yes,” Nika seemed at a loss for words. “Everything was strange. The Doctor listened to the terms and… just agreed. He didn’t speak much but he took his time to consider them. I wonder what was in that letter…”

“What letter?”

“I delivered a letter to him from lord Pantalone, before our discussion started. He read it immediately as was requested. I don’t know the contents, but could it be that the letter made him so agreeable?” her voice was shaking and her words uncertain.

“It could be. Usually these kinds of negotiations take way more time, although, mostly for a different reason…” silence hung over them heavily after those words until Nika broke it.

“You said you knew something! What was it?”

“Yes, about that! Two days ago The Doctor and the Regrator asked me if I knew anything about the rumors surrounding them. I decided to be honest and said that it was painfully obvious for anyone with eyes that they were in love,” after seeing Nika’s expression of horror, she added: “Not with these words, of course. I mentioned their frequent visits to one another and expensive gifts and the favoritism too,” Maria’s startled mumbling nervously. “And what do I see now? Lord Pantalone sending a representative, and for what?! To cut the Doctor’s funding! And…”

“And he’s also sending Theta segment back,” Nika nodded in understanding. She was starting to see the picture as well.

“Oh no,” Maria whispered as tears started to well up in her eyes. “Did I… ruin their relationship? Did they break up because of what I said? Could it be that they were trying to keep it a secret, but I was so blunt and rude that I have offended them and now…” she couldn’t finish her sentence as more cries broke from her throat. Naturally, she was concerned for her boss’ happiness. Not only because she wished him the best, but also because his affair was the sole entertainment in these gloomy walls for all of the staff. And from what she could tell, the same applied for the Regrator’s subordinates. She then felt Nika’s reassuring hand patting her on the shoulder.

“Don’t overestimate yourself like that,” she said with some pity in her voice. “They are powerful and respectable men, I don’t think they would’ve concerned themselves with your words to the point of breaking up. Besides, if they were truly offended by what you’ve said, you wouldn’t even be here,” they stood in silence for a while, both considering the words.

“That’s a valid point,” Maria raised her head, and if Nika didn’t know any better, she’d never have guessed that the woman was crying just a few moments ago. “But it can’t all just be a coincidence!”

“Maybe you are right, and they were just trying to keep it secret. But since the word got out, perhaps they’re just going to try better? And the letter could’ve…”

“You think it could’ve been a love letter?” Maria interrupted her enthusiastically.

“It is possible, although he didn’t write a reply," she paused for a moment. "He certainly was staring at it for quite some time, lost in thought.”

“Maybe he’ll send a reply later. I don’t know. But if they’re trying so hard to keep it secret now, maybe we should just play along?”

“Yeah, you’re right. Anyways, it’s time for me to get going. But who knows, maybe we’ll see each other again?” Nika asked somewhat hopefully.

“Only if the Doctor truly writes a reply to that love letter and I get to be the one to deliver it,” Maria laughed.

The gossip calmed Nika’s mind and rid her of the confusion she felt right after the discussion. Now there was only space for joy in her. She has successfully accomplished the task and would be proud to declare that to her boss. Unlike the road to the Doctor’s residence, her path back was relaxed and fast. Before she knew it, she found herself at Pantalone’s office.

“What news do you bring?” he asked in his honey-sweet voice.

“Only good news, my lord. The Doctor has accepted your terms,” she handed the folder with the signed document for him to examine.

“Good, good,” Pantalone nodded. “How did it go? I hope, Dottore didn’t bring you too much trouble?”

“Not at all. The Doctor was rather agreeable,” she said somewhat hesitantly. Pantalone only laughed at her words. She has never heard him laugh like that before.

“You must be the first person to describe him as ‘agreeable’! Fascinating,” his plan worked perfectly. Dottore surely had figured it out and it was so nice of him to play along. Now Pantalone knew that if he ever wanted anything from the Doctor, all he needed to do was bore him. He was almost tempted to use a representative each time they needed to discuss business, but by doing that he would rid himself of the joy he experienced during their conversations. But for three months, that would suffice. “And he never mentioned that all of his work was a manifestation of Tsaritsa’s will and stopping it would be blasphemy?” for some strange reason, Dottore really liked this argument and always used it, or some sort of its variation, when the conversation came to cutting his funding.

“No, my lord,” Nika shook her head. “He didn’t speak much,” that was new. Interesting. Something Pantalone found hard to imagine. That didn’t sound like Dottore at all. The very man who could speak hours on end proving his point, and he didn’t say anything? He decided then that he would wonder about that later. He still had work to do.

“I see. You can go now.”

***

It was the next day when Theta finally returned to Dottore’s residence. He wasn’t the biggest fan of this rearrangement, but he was curious as to what happened for Pantalone to send him away with little to no explanation. He thought that if one of them didn’t speak, he would get the answers from the other. And he knew just the way to make Prime talk.

“Did you two break up or what?” Theta stormed into the lab without any warning, his voice echoing loudly through the corridors.

Dottore looked stunned by his audacity, which brought a smirk to his lips. Prime closed and carefully put aside a vial with some unknown to Theta transparent liquid, rose from his table, made a few steps in his direction and slapped him hard across the face.

“What else was I supposed to think?!” Theta exclaimed theatrically in his defence. He couldn’t feel pain, so the slap was just a display of power, on Prime’s part. “Pantalone sent me away without a word, and the first thing I hear when I come back is that your funding has been cut!”

“Do you wish to get deactivated so badly?” Dottore threatened. It was so easy to forget how insufferable his younger selves were, when not around.

Theta, Delta and Beta were relatively close in age and reflected the period of his life when he just became a Harbinger. Drunk on power, spiteful and vengeful they were. Euphoria of being in control faded away, eventually, but the segments remained and they were not easy to be around, as Dottore found out later. It was Prime who was in charge, but these three rarely recognised his authority. So he always tried to send them far away.

“The only reason I asked for your return was because Gamma requested aid in Nod-Krai,” Dottore sighed. That wasn’t untrue. It was a fortunate convenience that things have aligned in this way. He did not wish to be in Theta’s presence for too long.

He was surprised how Pantalone seemed to get along with Theta. In truth, Pantalone got along with all of his segments, which was a wonder to him. He wasn’t the only one, but he was the only one who had no reason to tolerate his younger selves’ antics. The Jester and Her Majesty have been the first people who’ve accepted him, and they saw him grow up into the man he is now. Pantalone didn’t, and yet, he somehow understood every single version of him.

He once asked the Regrator how he could find an approach to all of his segments and the man looked at him dumbfounded. As if that was the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard. Pantalone said then, that connecting with him and all of his versions, was as natural as breathing to him, and reassured that there truly was nothing difficult about that. Dottore didn’t understand that response, but decided to not dwell into the topic. After all, nobody hated Dottore more than Dottore himself, but that was a truth he would never admit.

He noticed then, that not only was Theta being insufferable, now, he was making assumptions. Or, at least, pretending to be making them. What happened to him while he was away?

Dottore always considered himself above that. People were making assumptions about him for as long as he could remember. But those people were ignorant and unintelligent. He was not like them.

And yet, that was somewhat new.

He remembered feeling confused when people made assumptions about him for the first time. They called him a monster, but he was just a boy with an unconventional perspective of the world. Yes, that was always about perspective. Confusion turned to offence, to spite. And then, the perspective changed. People still thought him a monster, but now he had the power. And he was determined to use it to show just what kind of a monster he was.

Theta came from that time. ‘Monster’ was a compliment to him, screams of agony were his music and suffering was his pleasure. So, when Theta made an assumption, he chose another route. Alongside all those fatui agents, who gossiped about his relationship with Pantalone, Theta assumed Prime was human.

Dottore realised then, that he got lost in thought again and didn’t even notice Theta leaving. He sat back at the table, trying to focus on his work. But a single thought crept into his mind. Maybe, people assuming that I have feelings is not necessarily worse than them believing me to be a monster.

Chapter Text

Pantalone spoke uninterrupted. That was a rare turn of events at a Harbinger meeting. It would’ve been completely unprecedented if his colleagues actually paid attention to what he was saying. Dottore eyed them. Columbina was humming the same tune under her nose, the Balladeer would be sleeping, if he could do that, and Sandrone preferred the sleeves of her dress to the report about the opening of a Northland bank branch. The only one who seemed genuinely interested was Pulcinella. Crucabena was missing since she was still in Fountaine.

It’s been a long time since he last saw her. Her cooperation and generosity that never allowed him to run out of test subjects has made the Doctor appreciate her. He would even go as far as to say he saw a good friend in her. It was uncommon for someone who could understand his methods of pursuing knowledge, let alone praise them as enthusiastically as she did. Dottore hoped Crucabena would be back soon, he rather missed her wickedness.

The Regrator took his seat as he finished his report, and Dottore shot him a glare. They didn’t say a single word to one another since the meeting began, but the Doctor almost burnt a hole through him by staring constantly. It bothered him that Pantalone didn’t reply to his letter. In truth, it could hardly be called a letter. A haste note that he wrote after his conversation with Theta that only consisted of one question: ‘What has happened to Theta?’

The Doctor couldn’t throw away his greeting words out of his mind. Did you two break up or what? He was positive that his segment didn’t truly entertain himself with the rumor, but he knew of it. Probably, he knew before Dottore himself. Who told him? What was going on in Pantalone’s residence to make him interested in gossip? And, most importantly, why didn’t Theta let him know? It never occurred to him that his segments might be keeping secrets from him, and he did not like that one bit. He would have to find a way to fix their communication channels.

Pantalone must’ve felt his stare and looked back at him. The look on his face confirmed Dottore’s suspicion that the man had no idea what the letter meant. Maybe, he should send another one, to explain his concerns better.

Apart from Theta’s investment in rumors, there was one more issue the Doctor had at the moment. He tried to attend these meetings personally, for the Jester’s sake, but in the last six months he was sending a segment in his stead, simply because he was too busy. He needed to know if Pierro just missed him that much or was there another reason he was asked to be present personally?

The answer came to him, eventually, when the Jester said: “I received a letter from the Knave. She’s preparing for the election of the king of the House of the Hearth. She’s asking for assistance,” he looked expectantly at Dottore and handed him Crucabena’s letter.

So that was the reason. How very thoughtful of him.

“I’ll send someone to help her out,” the Doctor reassured. Pierro kept talking but he didn’t listen anymore.

There was a reason Dottore never wanted to rely on agents when doing business with Pantalone or making plans with Her Majesty, or why he would always try to come himself when Pierro called upon him. They were important people to him, and he wouldn’t want to share them, even with his past selves. The Knave also made the list, he supposed.

She gained his respect on the first day of their meeting. It was the Doctor’s duty to conduct a series of experiments on his newly made colleagues to study their powers, share the Tsaritsa’s blessing with them and determine their rank. It amused him how Crucabena was thoroughly enjoying what many would call torture. He wasn’t even finished with her, when she offered him partnership. Dottore thought Pantalone was too fast, when he approached him with a proposal on the evening of his inauguration, but this mad woman hasn’t even officially received her title. He was pleasantly surprised by her boldness and said that he would be looking forward to it.

Dottore promised her cooperation on that day and he was keeping his promise so far. He didn’t like the thought that he could’ve been not the first one to learn that she asked for his help. Of course, the Jester knew that. He always knew everything about everyone.

For a moment Dottore thought that he could go to Fountaine himself, instead of sending a segment. It would be nice to reunite with Crucabena, and, maybe, the woman will be able to help him overcome his boredom in the Regrator’s stead. He looked through the letter, which was not meant for his eyes, and decided against it. The Doctor still had a lot of work in Snezhnaya, and his work was his biggest priority. Besides, he knew exactly who he should send. He smirked at the thought. That would solve the problem, Dottore thought.

He reached out to Delta. ‘You’re going to Fountaine. You will assist Crucabena there’. He received no answer, but he knew Delta would do as he was told. It would be nice for Dottore to keep the annoying segment away, and it would be nice for Delta to be around someone who genuinely likes him.

He didn’t seem to notice that the meeting was over. Archons, he was so absent-minded these last days. He was just about to leave, when Pierro called him.

“Wait a moment, Dottore. Come with me,” and he obliged. They walked out of the room and down the hall. Zapolyarny palace appeared to be a maze for anyone who set foot in it for the first time, but Dottore knew it like the back of his hand. After the first turn to the right he could tell that Pierro was simply trying to walk him back to the entrance gates. It seemed like he just needed an excuse for a conversation. “Do you already know who you want to send to Fountaine?”

“I have already notified Delta,” he nodded.

“Very efficiently, as always,” the praise was dry and somewhat awkward when it came from the Jester. “Was Delta the one in charge of that research facility in Liyue? With the ruin guards?” Dottore nodded again. He failed to see where this was going. “You love the ruin guards so much, why would you close it?”

“I have,” agreed to have my funding being cut, because Pantalone doesn’t want people to think that we’re lovers, so sacrifices had to be made. He couldn’t say that. “I have lost interest,” a half-truth, but it was true enough for him.

“I find it very difficult to believe… Is everything alright?” The concern in Pierro’s eyes was one that could only be seen in the eyes of a father who looks at their sick child.

“Oh, Jester, please. When will you stop treating me as a kid, we’re basically the same age now,” Dottore rolled his eyes. Pierro must’ve felt the gesture and chuckled.

“Sure. Whatever makes you happy. And I want you to be happy, never forget that.”

“I have no reason to be upset. I have everything I could possibly want,” the Doctor reassured.

“Truly? Is that why you’ve been uncharacteristically quiet today? You can tell me if anything worries you.”

“You just promised you will stop treating me like a kid. I'm fully capable of solving my own problems,” he pressed. Dottore appreciated the care, but it was getting embarrassing. He was not in the mood to discuss his personal life with Pierro. He could never even imagine being in the mood for that.

“No need to be so serious right now,” he laughed quietly. “You must forgive me, it’s just been such a long time since we talked like this.”

“You can come visit me at any moment,” Dottore said with all sincerity he had, looking straight into the Jester’s eyes.

“I do not wish to interfere,” he turned away. They were almost at the exit.

“You won’t interfere with anything. I will always make time for you. Come anytime, I’d be happy to see you,” however contented Pierro was to hear these words, he didn’t feel placated.

“Oh, I have no doubts about that. But I don’t think your guest will be too pleased with that,” Dottore stopped in shock. He could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Surely, someone like Pierro could never have heard the rumors about him and Pantalone, and more so believe it? He must’ve meant something else.

“I’m not having any guests, Jester,” he said sharply, but Pierro didn’t find his tone convincing.

“Is that so? Columbina mentioned that whenever she comes around, the Regrator is always with you…”

“Not anymore!” What was going on? The man who saved him, the man who he looked up to, was saying such confusing things. Dottore felt like a teenage boy, confronted by his father about his first crush. Maybe he was just being paranoid? Was he just making up the meaning of Jester’s words, because this rumor was all he could think about lately? “You must excuse me. I ought to go,” with that, he left.

Pierro sighed. Dottore was so quiet today, it was only natural for him to worry. He wasn’t the kind of person who liked to talk about his life, but he liked to talk in general. Especially with Pantalone. Normally, these Harbinger meetings took so much time because of the Doctor and Regrator’s bickering that was bordering on flirting. Sometimes it seemed as if they spoke a language of their own. Of course, it was better for the business the way it was today – short and efficient – but the Jester couldn’t help the unease he felt, seeing two men act as if they were strangers. He wanted to know what happened, but it looked like he wouldn't get any answers.

He walked to the Winter Garden. Pierro knew that this is where the Tsaritsa would be waiting for him with a cup of tea.

They always drank tea in the same place, at the same time. Although today he would come earlier than usual. And would have to explain why. They would always hold a conversation during tea time. Oftentimes it turned into grandiose planning about overthrowing the Heavenly Principle, but it could also be completely casual. Her Majesty could tell him about a theatre play she was invited to see by one of the nobles, and the Jester could share a story about how a single comment from Columbina stopped an entire argument between the Doctor, the Balladeer and the Marionette only because it sounded awfully out-of-place. Yet today, he had no such story.

“You’re earlier than I expected,” Tsaritsa said, surprise evident in her gentle voice. “The tea isn’t ready yet.”

“I’m sorry, I should’ve walked slower,” he jested, placing a light kiss on her cheek.

“Did something happen?”

“It’s more like something didn’t happen,” Pierro shook his head and sat at the table in front of her. He met confusion in her eyes and continued: “A fight, I mean. I’m not saying they didn’t argue at all, but in comparison to how it usually goes it was almost civil. We’ve finished rather quickly, as you can see. I even got the chance to speak with Dottore in private, after the meeting.”

“Is that so? What did you speak about?” The water was boiling by that time and the Tsaritsa brewed tea for both of them.

“The reason why he was so quiet today.”

“Our dear Doctor was quiet? Is everything alright with him?” Pierro smiled. It was the same question he asked.

“Why else would a Harbinger meeting be ‘civil’?” He raised his brows and took a sip of tea. “But I got concerned about that too. He closed the research facility with his beloved ruin guards, and didn’t even greet Pantalone... Now that I think of it, he did act rather queer at the mention of Pantalone being a frequent guest at his place. He said that they don’t see each other anymore.”

“Oh my lonely children. What could’ve caused them to make such a decision?” She whispered. “Did our precious Regrator also seem off to you?”

“It’s hard to tell. He was never the one to speak much in the first place. But he definitely ignored Dottore just as much as Dottore ignored him.”

“What a tragic turn of events. Just a week ago our lovely Damsellette told me that she saw them together,” silence hung over them as the Tsaritsa took slow sips of her tea, reminiscing. “I remember how delighted I felt when the flower of their love started to bloom in these cold halls. These poor, rejected souls. The lost ones are never meant to wander in the darkness forever. They all eventually find their way. Wouldn’t it be cruel for them to get lost, to get away from their light? Wouldn’t it be cruel for the flower to wither away?”

The Doctor was always a loner. He was brought before her as a teenage boy, spiteful and distrusting. Even though he tried to hide it, the Tsaritsa could see how desperate he was to prove himself and gain recognition. It must’ve been his fear of rejection that made him keep a respectful distance from his colleagues.

It all changed when the Regrator joined their ranks. He must’ve noticed the same thing as her – how utterly similar Dottore and him were. On that faithful night he became the first person after Pierro who intentionally sought out Dottore’s company. In his smile, that was brighter than he’s ever had before, she saw that her dear Doctor was saved from the abyss of abandonment. He was never the same after that, learning to open up, to trust, and enjoying being accepted.

It soon became evident that they were the most important people in each other’s lives.

“My love,” Pierro was at a loss for words. He knew how deeply she cared for her Habingers who she called children, when they were in private. He knew that because he felt the same way. “If only we knew what made them lose their way, maybe we could help.”

“I’m sure the answer will come to us,” she said as she finished her tea.

***

As bitter as his conversation with Pierro might’ve been, Dottore realised something. It was all Pantalone’s fault. But, being the good scholar that he was, he didn’t want to jump into conclusion. He needed to test his hypothesis first. That guard spoke to him freely last time and he decided to question her again. He was in no mood to listen to people choose the most respectful words right now. All he needed were answers.

Fortunately, she was at the entrance to his cabinet that she was supposed to be guarding. However, she seemed to have been sleeping.

“Maria!” he yelled. His loud voice woke her up immediately. The Doctor didn’t wait for her to come to her senses and just said: “Come with me.”

He walked to his table and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He would have to write a letter to Pantalone after that. As soon as the door was closed Dottore addressed her: “Last time you told me that the fatui were gossiping about my relationship with Pantalone,” the girl nodded. “Are there other rumors of this kind about me?” Maria seemed uncomfortable with the question. What happened to her enthusiasm from the last time? “If you’re just going to stand here frozen in fear, I’ll give you exactly what you’re afraid of. Spit it out. Are there any other rumors?”

“There’re none, my lord,” she started somewhat hesitantly. “At least, none that I know of, and I happen to know a lot of rumors!” She smiled brightly at the end, but her smile faded away when she realised what she just said. How could someone with such a loose tongue be recruited to the Fatui?  Dottore thought, sighing loudly. Aren’t these people paid to keep their mouths shut? At least, he could use her flaw now and confirm his suspicion. It was Pantalone’s fault then. There was, however, one more thing he’d like to ask her.

“Do you also happen to know who started those rumors, then?”

“No, my lord,” Maria shook her head. “Everyone was already talking about it when I came here. It’s a rather popular topic to discuss at lunch or at the training grounds…” she was speaking more to herself than to him now, so Dottore signaled for her to stop with his hand.

“I understand. If you have so much free time to discuss such nonsense, then I should give you more work,” he spat.

“I’m at your service, my lord,” she replied with a light bow.

“Good, then I’ll have you deliver a letter to the Regrator. I’ll call you when it’s ready. Don’t fall asleep,” with another bow, Maria left.

There were two problems that he needed to address in the letter. The first one considered Theta and his engagement with the rumor. He wanted Pantalone to investigate where he learned about it. Maybe it could lead to the person who started all of it. Dottore had no trouble expressing this concern on paper. It was the second one that he struggled to find the right words for.

Dottore held Pantalone very dear to his heart. But he also had Columbina. And the Jester. And Crucabena. They were all important people to him, who he was grateful he had met. He could host the Damsellete in his residence just as often as he had the Regrator. He could have heart-to-heart conversations with Pierro and do business with the Knave, and yet, if what Maria said was true, no one thought that he was romantically involved with any of them. Dottore thought he knew the reason.

Columbina was good friends with Signora and the Marionette. Pierro had Her Majesty and the Knave had her children. All of them had someone to trust, to rely on, to keep them company when Dottore couldn’t. Pantalone, on the other hand, in his 350 years in the Fatui, hasn’t made a single friend apart from him. Maybe ‘favoritism’ Maria spoke of wasn’t about the money, but rather about these personal connections.

Dottore was the only important person in Pantalone’s life, he realised. That was what made their relationship weird in the eyes of others. His unwillingness to open up to anyone else was most likely the reason people started spreading those rumors. It was Pantalone’s fault, but it was Dottore who had to pay the price.

He tried to phrase it once, twice, then thrice. On the fourth time he gave up. He had no fitting words to say it. The Doctor didn’t wish to appear accusing. He knew how much Pantalone cared for his reputation and how he hated the rumor. How could he just bluntly say it was his own fault? He didn’t wish to upset the Regrator, after all.

He took a deep breath and a new piece of paper. First part – Theta. Second part… Dottore stopped himself before he could write a single word. Maybe, it wasn’t that important? All he wanted was to find the person who started the gossip, the reason why they did it could be figured out later. There was no reason to disappoint the Regrator now. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t care for how they took the news, but for Pantalone he could make an exception. Dottore decided to leave his conclusion to himself, signed the letter and called for Maria to deliver it.

Chapter Text

My dearest Pantalone,

It seems as though my first letter confused you. For that I apologise. But you have to understand my own frustration when Theta stormed into my lab asking if you and I had broken up. I want you to investigate that occurrence and find out who got the idea into his mind. After all, if you truly wish to get rid of the rumor, it wouldn’t hurt to find where it came from.

I hope you didn’t come to regret our little experiment in separation like I did, and I wish you’re satisfied with its results.

Yours truly,

Dottore

Pantalone read the letter possibly a hundred times over the last week. For the first time in his life he thanked the Archons that the Doctor’s handwriting was completely incomprehensible for an untrained eye. He has spent so much time trying to decipher it, when they have just started working together. Now, he was simply grateful that very few people would be able to read this.

What was Dottore thinking about, while writing this?! He probably didn’t overthink it, because it was his common style, but, given the circumstances, he could’ve at least tried to be more formal. At any other time, Pantalone wouldn’t notice, but now the choice of words seemed oddly… romantic. Was there truly a reason to address him as ‘dearest Pantalone’? And he absolutely didn’t need to mention that a week of being apart made him regret the decision, Regrator was sure of that. If anyone saw the letter, they’d never get rid of that rumor, he thought.

Alas, he complied with the Doctor’s request and conducted a small investigation. Or, at least, tried to. Theta was here for the sole reason to get his hands dirty in Pantalone’s stead and all of the people he came in contact with were dead. He gave instructions to one of the agents to find those who had spoken with Theta and also those who were patrolling around his area of work and interrogate them. This brought no results, and that made the Regrator somewhat happy.

It was good to know that the sickening gossip had some sort of restriction to it. He felt disgusted at the idea of his subordinates discussing his private life. Disrespecting a Harbinger was a serious crime in the Fatui, and what was that, if not disrespect?

Pantalone envied the Doctor at times like these.

Not only was he immune to the opinions of other people, he could allow honesty. Pantalone could never imagine speaking to one of his subordinates the way Dottore spoke to that guard girl. And there was a very simple reason for it. The Doctor will never be disrespected or seen as weak. He was the second of the Fatui Harbingers, a genius scholar who performed cruel experiments, and that made him one of the most threatening people in Snezhnaya. No one in their sane mind would dare to disobey him. Kindness and honesty only worked in his favour.

The Regrator possessed no such luxury. He was the lowest ranking Harbinger with no special power, and, worst of all, he was a simple banker. His wealth was his only source of power, but it was hardly frightening on its own. Pantalone wanted respect and obedience that most of his colleagues received for simply breathing. He, on the other hand, had to put in a little bit of effort. Strictness and cruelty came naturally to him, and soon enough people started saying that Northland bank’s true currencies are blood and tears. That pleased him to no end – knowing that no one will ever look down on him ever again.

And yet, it felt so fragile.

The days of his misery were long gone, but the memories still haunted him, making him paranoid. He felt as if a single mistake could ruin everything he worked on so hard for so long. The rumor might as well become this mistake.

He couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it, but it was so difficult to act like nothing had happened. He was fascinated how the Doctor seemed to manage both. Pantalone aspired to be more like him in times of stress. To be able to keep his composure and do the right thing.

Now that it has been two weeks since the contract was signed, Pantalone found himself with an awful lot of free time. Under normal circumstances, Dottore and him met up at least thrice a week, whenever they had a spare couple of hours. What was he supposed to do now? He almost felt lazy for having so little work.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in!”

Luka, one of his secretaries, entered the cabinet and bowed lightly.

“My lord, it’s time to head out for the auction, unless you’ll be late. Your carriage is waiting.”

The auction. Pantalone almost forgot that he had a hobby.

He was collecting art. He figured it would fit a person of his status, but he never really cared for these paintings. Wealthy people seemed to have an obsession with art that the Regrator couldn’t quite understand. Surely, he could appreciate how beautiful they were, but Pantalone didn’t see any spiritual or artistic value in them. Merchants and businessmen that he worked with always admired his collection and complimented his refined taste. And he just smiled politely in response, because that was what he wanted them to do. The collection wasn’t for him, it was for them.

And just once, it was for the Doctor.

The only time Dottore visited the gallery, his gaze was drawn to a single painting that depicted the fall of Gurabard. To this day Pantalone couldn’t tell if the expression on Dottore’s face was that of longing or disgust. Back then, the Doctor told him the story of King Deshret and how he descended into madness and released forbidden knowledge into the world. How the forbidden knowledge manifested itself on the people of Sumeru in the form of eleazar. How he studied that illness in a hospital when he was young. How all of the patients died before he came to a relevant conclusion.

Back then, Pantalone couldn’t bring himself to ask Dottore why the patients died. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything at all, he was too confused by Dottore’s reaction. Did he like the painting? Should he, perhaps, have given it to him, as a sign of good will? Should he have disposed of it right here and now to make sure Dottore never has to look at it again and remember the unpleasant days of his past?

Pantalone wanted to know how the Doctor felt about it, but he never asked.

As for everyone who wasn’t Dottore, he didn’t care. He had to endure that from time to time, when someone would try to engage him in a conversation about art. In fact, he couldn’t stomach people yapping about techniques and emotions. All Pantalone could do was nod and say something along the lines of: ‘Yes, it’s very expressive’.

He was far more interested in obtaining them. Especially winning a lost-to-time piece in an auction. The paintings were pricy and pleasing to the eye, and they were his. And it was all that mattered.

He fancied pretty and expensive things. Paintings, furniture, jewelry, clothing, tea varieties and dishes. Everything that could accentuate one’s status in high society was of interest to him. And yet, he found it rather difficult to call anything ‘pretty’ after having laid eyes on the Doctor’s face. It was also true that no art piece, nor diamond ring could ever match the expenses for a single of his projects. The Doctor might as well be the prettiest and the most expensive thing in Pantalone’s collection. But it wasn’t like he could show off one of the Fatui Harbingers to his business partners. That would make the wrong impression.

“Well, if it’s time already, then I guess I have no choice,” a light smile touched his lips, as he said these words.

At the exit he was greeted by two Fatui agents who would accompany him. The door of the carriage was opened before him, and he made himself comfortable inside. Judging by the hard snowfall, it was promising to be a rather long ride.

He was informed of the auction more than a month prior, and yet it was still unknown what the main item was going to be. The organiser only let it be known that it was a recently found piece from Hoffman.

Hoffman was a mondstadtian painter who traveled Teyvat around 200 years ago depicting everyday lives of people. He was always praised for the sensuality and expressivity of his art. He died in a shipwreck and a great number of his works sank with him. The paintings are being discovered by adventurers from time to time and, after a thorough restoration, they are being sold for millions of mora.

Pantalone possessed several pieces of his work already. ‘Praying nun’, ‘Night in the tavern’, ‘Duel of samurais’ and ‘Shaman’s ritual’ were hanging in the gallery, while ‘Trial’ and ‘Youkai in the forest’ adorned the reception hall. A few years ago he also won ‘The dancer in the bazaar’ in an auction. He paid 12 million mora for it, which was the most money he’s ever spent on a piece of art, but it wasn’t for him. It was a gift for Dottore’s youngest segment - little Iota.

However, he has never bought Liyue-related artwork. He found the scenery sickening, and nothing angered him more than seeing portrayals of legends about adepti and other Liyue ‘heroes’.

Having arrived at the auction house, he took off his long fur coat and gave it to one of his bodyguards. The place had a cloakroom, but he didn’t trust his things being passed between so many attendants. He was given his paddle and escorted to his table.

“May I offer you some wine, sir?” A waiter approached him with a tray of filled glasses.

“You may,” Pantalone replied. “But first, you have to offer it to this gentleman right here,” he pointed at one of his bodyguards.

“My lord, I’m on duty,” the man tried to protest, but Pantalone silenced him.

“A few sips won’t kill you. By which I mean,” he took a moment to formulate the words more correctly. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

The man took one of the four glasses that were on the tray and stared at the wine apprehensively. He sniffed it and took a cautious sip. The Regrator didn’t even spare him a glance as he did all that. His eyes were for the waiter only.

“I-I… I believe it is not poisoned, my lord.”

Pantalone smiled at that and took another glass for himself. It was Mondstad’s famous Dandelion wine. Fitting for today's occasion, but still too strong for Pantalone’s liking.

He saw many familiar faces around him. Most of them were his business partners who greeted him shortly and engaged in a polite small talk. He was used to it. He was also used to the other part of the familiar faces – the nobles, who were giving him disgusted side-eyes. He met them at the balls, hosted by Her Majesty, but the meetings were never pleasant.

The nobles despised these ‘foreigners with no name’ who held so much power. It was, in fact, a rather one-sided conflict since most of the Harbingers didn’t care. But not the Regrator. Like all people who came into wealth instead of being born into it, he mimicked their mannerism and habits, knowing that they would never accept him as one of their own. It was the part that filled his heart with loathing. They weren’t better than him just because they were luckier. It might as well have been the exact opposite.

At the end of the day, none of it mattered. Even as the lowest-ranking Harbinger he was in a higher position than them in the court and here as well. He was treated as a special guest of honour and seated in the Royal box. He was the one the owner of the auction house and the organiser of the event was fawning over right now.

“My lord Harbinger! It’s always the greatest honour to have you here,” the man practically sang with joy. “I trust everything is to your liking?”

“Everything is the same as it was. I have no complaints,” he replied politely and took a sip of his wine.

“And the wine, my lord? I was told you didn’t trust its safety and even asked your bodyguard to test it?”

“I did. That’s what bodyguards are for.”

“It truly pains me that after all these years you still don’t trust me. I would never put poison in your wine, my lord! Never!” The man declared proudly.

“There’re many people who have the opportunity to do so, before the wine reaches me. It’s not about you. I don’t trust anyone. You’re not special,” the Regrator said matter-of-factly.

It was not a matter of fact, he realized. This man wasn’t special in receiving Pantalone’s distrust, but there was another man, who was very special. Only now Pantalone noticed that he never doubted the food he ate in the Doctor’s company. He may have lacked the motive, but Dottore was the kind of person who would do that out of sheer curiosity. He also had every opportunity to poison his food and drinks. Letting his guard down near a person who owned a garden full of poisonous plants was uncharacteristically careless on his part.

Pantalone didn’t see the reason why the Doctor wouldn’t do it. And what was he supposed to do with a colleague like this? Just accept him. The only argument against it was that Pantalone was still alive.

Unless hurting him wasn’t the objective.

He took another sip of wine as the realization struck him. He was called paranoid many times for suspecting his food to be poisoned, yet the only person who actually did this, did it to save his life. He found it lovely. Dottore could be so caring at times.

It was the alcohol that made his body feel warm and light, and turned his cheeks red.

“You must forgive me, my lord, but I ought to go,” the man’s words felt somewhat discouraged. Pantalone has already forgotten he was even here. “I wish you the most pleasant evening.”

The auction was rather ordinary. Pantalone partook in two biddings. He won the ‘Weeping Willow of the Lake’, a landscape by Molière and spent just 800 000, but gave up on a statue of Lianca from Natlan, when the bidding reached 3 million. Everything else was not worthy of his attention. His eyes were only for the main item, which he knew would be the last one.

“And the final item, the one you’ve been waiting for the most! The recently found work of Hoffman - ‘Dinner in the Liyue harbor'!" With these words, the host revealed the painting.

Pantalone froze. He knew the place all too well. Not a restaurant, nor a teahouse – a square full of merchants, selling their goods, and, in the middle, two kids sitting at the steps, near the water, eating grilled fish.

He swallowed hard. Memories flooded his mind. He too was once a child eating grilled fish on these steps. He caught it and prepared it all himself, and he loathed every bit that he chewed. It was painfully tasteless.

He couldn’t afford spices. Not even salt. He always found it ridiculous that the nation of stone didn’t have enough salt for those who couldn't pay for it. So, one day, he stole some.

He just wanted to know if the fish could taste differently. If it could taste at all. He remembered looking at the pack of salt with fascination, like it was the most precious thing in the world. Which, for him specifically and at that period of time, it was. He was full of determination to have the best dinner of his life. He had his fish, his salt and the fire to grill it.

He tried to not spend all of his salt and save some for the next time, and yet, he was afraid that if he put too little, it wouldn’t make a difference. He never had to season his food before, so it was difficult to tell how much was enough. Encouraged, he took the first bite.

It tasted differently than before, there was no mistaking that.

It tasted like salt and nothing else.

It was horrible. Worse than when it was unseasoned. He spat out the bit, and looked at the rest of the fish apprehensively.

The merchant from whom he stole the salt found him later that evening, crying in front of his untouched dinner. The anger in his eyes was quickly replaced by pity as he took in the scene before his eyes. The merchant squatted down and tried a bit of his fish.

‘You couldn’t finish it because it was so horrible?’ He nodded, unsure what the man wanted from him. Most of all, he was afraid that he would hand him over to the millelith, but what the man said next, was much worse than any jail time: ‘The Gods punished you for your sin. You’ll know better than to steal in the nation of contracts next time,’ and with that, the merchant left.

Looking back, Pantalone could understand that oversalted fish was no divine punishment, but rather a very logical conclusion to his inexperience with spices. But at the time, he was just a child and couldn’t understand that.

He could, however, understand that wanting your food to have flavour is no sin, and if the Gods disagreed, then the Gods were evil. If the Gods wanted him to choke on another bit of tasteless fish, then he would not worship them. He wasn’t in the wrong for wanting that salt. He wasn't in the wrong for not being able to afford it, it was that the Gods were unjust.

He was never the same person after that revelation came upon him. If it weren’t for that damned grilled fish, he would’ve never become ninth of the Fatui Harbingers. But by all means, it was not a very impressive story, so only the Jester and Dottore knew.

He realized then, he zoned out, staring at the painting for far too long. He wasn’t even blinking this whole time.

“11 million mora? Who wants to offer more?” The host shouted.

Pantalone remembered the very thing that brought up all those memories. The painting. The auction. He shouldn’t even be considering buying it, given how reluctant he was to possess anything that would remind him of his past. And yet, there was something queer about it. Something new. Something he’s never felt before.

“12 million,” Pantalone raised his paddle, barely registering his own words.

He hated it.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it.

He felt hypnotized by it.

“12 million! Would you look at that! Lord Harbinger has decided to join in on the bidding? Does anyone want to compete?”

“12 and a half million,” someone from the room bid.

Was that how the art was supposed to feel? All those people who tried to talk to him about the emotional depth of art in reality meant this? An unexplainable mixture of awe and hatred? Was that how the Doctor felt when he saw ‘The fall of Gurabard’? Was he too lost in the labyrinth of his own feelings? Trapped by those memories he tried so hard to repress?

“15 million,” Pantalone had to raise the bid. It should be enough to show other attendants his determination to win. And if it didn’t work, he was always willing to double whatever bid they made. He needed this painting like air and water. Now that he’s laid eyes on it, he couldn’t imagine not seeing it again.

“15 million! Anyone wants to offer 16? 15 million going once,” the host spoke in his usual fashion, which might have been annoying for those unfamiliar with the rules of this business, but Pantalone was used to it already. “15 million going twice… And… Sold!”

Pantalone smiled. ‘Dinner in the Liyue harbor’ was his. A unique addition to his collection, no matter how you look at it. He felt proud of himself. He wanted to rush to Dottore and share the news with him, like he always did when something good happened.

He couldn’t do it. Not this time. He had a contract to follow. For a moment, he considered writing a letter, even though he doubted he would be able to express himself clearly through words on paper. Maybe this conversation was better off saved for when they met face to face in the Regrator’s mansion. He also decided that when that happens, he will ask Dottore what he truly felt about ‘The fall of Gurabard’. Pantalone only hoped that the Doctor wouldn’t mind him bringing up a century-old conversation.

Chapter Text

“Why are you doing this to me?!” The scream was so loud Iota could hear it from the corridor. It was Kappa’s voice, he recognised. He found it strange. Kappa hated loud noises more than anything, so he could never have imagined that he was capable of producing one. “Just deactivate me instead!” The segment cried.

Iota was hesitant to enter the lab, afraid that he would become the next person to get screamed at.

“I think now’s not the best time, little lord,” a Fatui agent who was guarding the door squatted before him and smiled gently. “But maybe I can help?”

“Uncle Pavel!” He knew the names of all of the Fatui who worked for the Doctor. They were very sweet and kind to him and, for a reason Iota couldn’t quite understand, always got overwhelmed with joy when he called them by their names. “I wanted to know when uncle Pantalone will visit me again,” he said shyly. “I miss him.”

16 days. The last time he saw him was 16 days ago. It felt like forever to little Iota.

“I wish I knew that,” Pavel replied. The smile on his face suggested that there was something else he wanted to say but didn’t.

“I was going to ask Prime, but he seems to be busy, and I’m so scared of him too…” he was scared of Prime. And the other segments as well. Iota hated them even. And he knew they hated him equally. They all seemed to hate each other, he noticed.

His only job was to take care of the Garden. It was a huge garden, divided into various areas that mimic the ecosystems of different regions, in order to grow all possible plants. Some of them were poisonous, while others were medical herbs. Most were both. He liked looking after plants and he liked the idea of never running into the scary grown ups, who happened to be his older selves, a fact he didn’t want to believe.

Iota tried to find out what happened to them, to him. Hysterical Beta, cruel Theta, arrogant Gamma, Kappa, who locked himself in the library, Ypsilon and Omicron, who only tolerated each other’s company, despite being 200 years apart in age, and the man in the scariest mask he’s ever seen, whom they all called Prime. Were all of them truly himself from the future? Or were they Prime’s past selves? Was that the same thing?

If Iota could grow up would he become like them?

He knew they weren’t like him. He was the only one who still longed for the heat of the desert, for the hustle and bustle of the bazaar and for the warmth of their mother’s embrace. They called him annoying for constantly asking when he could go home.

No one was willing to answer his questions until Beta snapped at him once.

'You want to go home? No one is waiting for you there! Mother is dead! People of Sumeru hate you! They hate you,' he screamed. 'You can go back if you like and see what they do to you!'

Iota has never seen anyone angrier than Beta was at that moment. He just stood there in silence. By that time he knew better than to cry in front of older segments, even if the said segment was just 10 years his senior

It was actually Beta who was crying the next day. He came to Iota with his mask off and teary eyes, hugging him tightly and mumbling something along the lines of: ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘We all want to go home’. Iota didn’t know what to say to him. He didn’t even know if he needed to do that.

So he just brought the only thing that comforted him when he felt homesick – his aranara toy.

‘It’s exactly like the one we had in our childhood,’ he whispered, bewildered. ‘Where did you get it?’

‘It was a gift from uncle Pantalone. Though I don’t know who told him about it…’ Iota rubbed his head in thought.

‘Must’ve been Prime,’ they sighed in unison and giggled at it.

‘This is our home now. It’s cold and quiet, but people here will give you more love than the people of Sumeru could in a thousand years. Her Majesty is the Archon of Love, after all,’ Beta whispered when he calmed down, holding the aranara toy close to his heart.

‘You mean mother?’ Lady in furs was always accompanied by blizzards, but gave him the warmest smiles, and her embrace always made him forget that it was snowing outside. Everybody called her Tsaritsa, but Iota always called her mother, even though Prime didn’t approve of such a nickname.

‘Yes,’ he smiled gently. For the first time Beta looked his age. ‘Mother.’

“I get it,” Pavel’s voice brought him back to reality. “Lord Dottore can be quite scary. But if it’s the Regrator’s whereabouts you want to know, why don’t you go and ask him yourself?”

Iota thought of that already.

“But what if he doesn’t want to see me?” He expressed his concern.

“That can’t be the case. He loves you dearly, and I’m sure he misses you just as much. He’d be happy to see you again.”

Iota didn’t quite agree, but he found no words to counter his point. So he just stood there with an uncertain expression.

“Look,” Pavel smiled, understanding his frustration. “If the person is dear to you and you have a misunderstanding, you need to talk to each other honestly. That’s what grown ups do.”

“I’ve never seen Prime do that,” Iota declared matter-of-factly.

“He has his own methods,” he paused. “Whatever the reason for lord Pantalone’s absence could be, wouldn’t it be better if you asked him about it, instead of tormenting yourself with assumptions?”

“I guess you’re right,” Iota hasn’t thought of it like that.

“Of course I am!” He laughed. “So how about this… When you’re back from talking to lord Pantalone, you’ll share with me what he has told you?”

“Alright, I promise!” Iota exclaimed and ran away.

He needed to find Karina. She was his personal guard and he knew it wasn’t a good idea to leave the mansion without her.

He tried sneaking out once. It didn’t go well.

'You may be a child, but you’re still lord Harbinger,' uncle Pantalone told him the day he got lost in Zapolyarny palace. 'Never let them disrespect you,' the guards wouldn’t let him pass, Iota recalled, because they didn’t recognise him. It was no wonder. Who in their sane mind would believe that a five-year-old was the second of the Fatui Harbingers? He was advised to bring a guard or two next time. Someone who could confirm his identity.

“Auntie Karina!” He yelled as he ran down the corridor. She was at the inner entrance to the Garden, just where he left her. “I'm going to see uncle Pantalone, can you please come with me?”

“What is it, little lord? Have they finally decided to talk?” She scoffed.

“Who’s ‘they’?” He paused for a moment, before he realised who she was referring to. It wasn’t just him who was frustrated by Pantalone’s absence. Knowing that everyone seemed to be curious about the situation made him smile. “No. Prime’s not coming, I’m going alone.”

“Little lord, you know it’s very impolite to come uninvited. Don’t you think that the Regrator has a lot of work?” Karina spoke in a condescending tone, leaning forward to him.

“I know… I just wanted to ask him why he’s not coming over anymore…”

“I see... Do you want to go right away?” She asked, seemingly convinced by his reasoning, as if she was never concerned about the ninth Harbinger’s schedule in the first place. Iota nodded his head to her question. “Then I’ll have a carriage prepared.”

As he waited patiently, a dozen different scenarios ran through his head. What if uncle Pantalone was feeling unwell? Or if he had a mission abroad? What if he was really angry about something Prime did or said to him? Would his anger extend to Iota? Would he be thrown away the moment he sets foot in his mansion?

No, he tried to reassure himself. That’s something Prime would do. Uncle Pantalone is much nicer and kinder to me. He wouldn’t throw me away.

“Are you ready to go?” Karina interrupted his thoughts. “Here, little lord, I have your coat. It's cold outside,” she said as she helped him put his coat on.

Even if the outside was cold, it was warm inside the carriage. He eyed the snowy landscape through the window, as the worst-case scenario came to his mind once more. Iota couldn’t help but express it aloud, even if quietly.

“What if uncle Pantalone doesn’t come around anymore because I’ve done something wrong? What if he’s upset with me?”

He heard Karina sigh heavily beside him.

“Two grown men can’t communicate their feelings to each other…” she muttered through gritted teeth. “And who gets to suffer? Our poor little lord!”

All the time until they reached their destination, she kept mumbling about how insufferable the Doctor and the Regrator were for making Iota stress out, and how she would kick their asses if they upset him again.

He noticed a few people giving them weird glances, but thanks to Karina, there was no resistance in entering Pantalone’s palace. A local guard escorted them to his cabinet.

“You’re very lucky he’s not having any guests right now,” he said.

“Of course not. If Prime was here I would have known,” Iota didn’t notice the guard behind and Karina exchanging glances, but he did hear a muffled laugh.

“Lord Pantalone has other guests, apart from the Doctor.”

“Really? When does he have time for them?” Iota asked, and this time the laughter from behind wasn’t so muffled.

When they reached the Regrator’s office, the guard knocked at the door and opened it.

“My lord, forgive my intrusion, but you have a guest. He says he’s…”

“Uncle Pantalone!” Iota stormed inside. Gone were his fears and insecurities. He was too happy to see him.

The Regrator seemed to return the sentiment, as he rose from his chair and came up to Iota.

“Ah, if it isn’t my favorite little Doctor,” he smiled, picking him up in his arms. Pantalone placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. “My dear Iota, what brings you here? You,” he didn’t let the little segment answer as he pointed to the guard. “Bring us some tea. Kalpalata tea. And while you’re at it, bring a plate of sumeru delight, should there be any left. And if not… any sweets would do.”

He carried Iota over the sofa in the center of the room and sat opposite to him.

“So, dearest, tell me what happened,” he started.

“I missed you,” he whispered. “Where were you? Did I do something to upset you?”

“Of course not. You could never do anything to upset me,” Pantalone smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “It’s just that Dottore and I made a certain arrangement. We signed a contract, and now we can’t see one another for three months.”

“Three whole months? Does that include me as well? I don’t think I could do that,” he pouted.

Yes, that includes you too, Pantalone thought bitterly. They weren’t reckless enough to forget such an obvious detail as segments, when forming their contract. He couldn’t go against the rules, even if he wanted to. Those were the rules he made, but first and foremost, it wasn’t fair for the Doctor. If Pantalone got the pleasure of seeing his segments, then Dottore would be the only one suffering from loneliness.

“Yes, sweetheart, even you. I too am pained by this decision, so I’ll make an exception for you, just this once,” it was no use asking him to leave right away, the Regrator figured. He’s already here and Dottore will find out about this visit one way or another. Might as well make the child happy. “But you have to promise that you wouldn’t do this again. When the time of our contract is over, I’ll be sure to come to you first. And I’ll bring lots of sweets too.”

It didn’t bring Iota too much comfort, but he nodded his head nonetheless, wanting to impress Pantalone with his maturity.

“Why did you do that?” He asked quietly when the guard brought their tea and sumeru delight. “I’m asking because uncle Pavel said that if you have a misunderstanding with someone who is dear to you, you ought to speak with them about it.”

“That’s a wise piece of advice,” Pantalone said after sipping his tea.

“So have you tried talking to Prime? I’m sure that whatever happened, it’s his fault. He’s very mean and scary,” Iota said with mouth already full of sumeru delight.

It has always been his favorite.

Whenever Pantalone visited the Doctor at his place, he would always bring a box of it to Iota. When Dottore found out he asked:

‘Why don’t I get one?’

Pantalone laughed it off back then, but next time, he brought not one, but two boxes of sumeru delight.

He never grew out of his love for sweets, he chuckled, observing little Iota.

“Is he? I’ve never noticed.”

“I don’t know what he did, but he surely didn’t mean to offend you,” Iota reassured. If he managed to convince Pantalone that there was no actual reason for them to be apart, maybe the contract could be broken. “He loves you. You're very important to him. I’m certain he misses you as much as I do.”

Dottore? Loves him? Loves anybody?

The ridiculous idea was said with such confidence, it almost made Pantalone spill his tea all over himself.

There was, however, no reason to take these words seriously, he decided.

“It’s not his fault. But worry not, dearest, we have spoken about it and both agreed to the terms of our contract,” he forced a smile.

“But I don’t understand why you need it,” Iota sipped his own tea, as he waited for Regrator to find the right words.

“We thought that such proximity is harmful to both of our reputations.”

Not ‘we’, it was just me, Dottore just went along with my suggestion.

He didn’t feel bad for this little lie, but the sad expression on Iota’s face made him rethink his words. He knew where this was going.

“I remember you once said that I was harmful to Prime’s reputation. Do you still think so?” He said in a meek voice.

“I do not,” Pantalone finished his tea and put the cup on the table to accentuate his words.

He was used to Dottore requiring new segments. There was even a time when he could blindly approve funding for such a project. And that’s how Iota happened.

‘That’s a waste of money and resources!’ He scolded the Doctor when he saw the child-segment for the first time. ‘No one is going to take him seriously!’

‘You were the one who approved it,’ he countered with a ‘tsk’.

‘I didn’t…’ read it was left unspoken. He couldn’t confess to having trusted the Doctor so much that he didn’t even bother looking into the papers. That was too out of character to him. ‘Just what exactly are you going to do with a child? What use does he have? No one is going to respect him! No one is going to respect you because of him! This is harmful to your reputation!’

‘I don’t need him to be respected!’ Dottore yelled back. ‘I’m sick and tired of those arrogant pricks, I need someone quiet and obedient! Someone who would follow orders, instead of giving them,’ he took a moment to calm down. ‘I need him to look after the Garden. Everyone else considers themselves above such a chore.’

That was too trivial of a reason for Pantalone’s liking. For the first time, he couldn’t understand Dottore. Was he truly fine with a five-year-old version of himself running around for everyone to see? So vulnerable, so naive, so weak… Nothing like his current self, but still real.

Personally, Pantalone would loathe for people to see what kind of person he was before he joined the Fatui. There was no way that the Doctor with his genius mind didn’t understand the possible consequences of this decision, so did he truly not care?

Naturally, Iota was there to hear every word of it.

“I was wrong about you, I admit that,” he added after a short pause. “But Iota, my dear, the success you’ve had as a project couldn’t have been foreseen by anyone.”

What Pantalone expected to be a reason for ridicule and disrespect only made Dottore more lovable.

Everyone adored Iota. From common soldiers to the Tsaritsa herself. In their eyes he was ‘a little angel’ and ‘the most adorable child in the world’. With his shy demeanor and an innocent look on his face, he could charm anyone. He didn’t need to give orders, he just needed to ask nicely and everyone would do anything for him. Even Pantalone himself grew to love spoiling him.

It was a truly dangerous power.

But it wasn’t like Iota would understand.

And it wasn’t like Dottore would care.

“What if you’re wrong again?” He asked innocently.

What if…

That was a good question. Great even. A question he would hate to think about. He hated to be wrong, after all.

So, he left it unanswered.

Pantalone just politely waited for Iota to finish up his tea and sweets. When he was finished, the Regrator came up to him, patted his head, gently kissed his forehead and said with a smile:

“It’s been a pleasure to see you, dearest, but I still have a lot of work. It’s time you go back. I’ll have some more sumeru delight packed for you.”

Iota didn’t want to leave, especially knowing that he wouldn’t see Pantalone for another two and a half months, but he knew it was impolite to overstay his welcome. So he hugged the Harbinger goodbye, saying that he will miss him every day.