Work Text:
Columbina sat on her favourite spot, high above the ground, thinking. She swung her feet in rhythm to the lullaby forever lodged in her mind, the words bittersweet. Lauma had stopped by not long ago, the strange Moonchanter having brought her some fruit for her to eat. Though Columbina wondered what Lauma will eventually ask for in return, she did seem better than the Frostmoon Scions of old. The apples she left were a little tart, a little sweet, and made her mouth tingle pleasantly.
She tilted her head upwards, to where she knew the real Moon was hiding. “Ne verum ambulo, vivo te tam, nec ea cum est sua amans.“ Amans- Beloved. Was there someone she could call such? No. Of course not. Thoughts of love and friendship were not permitted to maidens of the Moon, nor should runaway Fatui Harbingers be entertaining them. And still she couldn’t stop herself from asking. Could there ever be someone she could call amans?
It has been days since she had first met the Fae Lightkeeper known as Flins and Columbina couldn’t get him off her mind, for reasons she herself didn’t entirely understand. Her expectations of him weren’t very high at first, since she brought him over along with the Traveler, Paimon and Marionette. Though the Traveller was nice and kind enough, Columbina could sense they had some ulterior motive behind everything, and Marionette was the most shrill woman to ever grace the whole of Snezhnaya and Nod-Krai. She had no idea what Paimon was, and had the strange feeling that the less she knew of the floating girl, the better.
Flins, though. She couldn’t really see (it was better to keep her eyes closed, for the sake of everyone), but she could still feel the presence of those around her, the thrum of their energy and life echoing off the walls of her little hideout. His presence was not that of a human.
It took her only a moment to realize what he was. Fae were rare these days, but not impossible to find. A rare one or two even joined the ranks of the little queen of frost railing against Celestia, so she had come into contact with some of them. There was a certain weariness inside all of them, born of seeing too much, born of not being able to share their burden with many.
His voice was… gentle. He called her Madame, and she giggled a little at the memory. She liked that. She was older than any human. And yet, when she still lived with them, the Frostmoon Scions had the tendency to talk to her like a little girl, unable to understand the world, unable to make decisions on her own. Just fulfil their prayers, like some machine.
But Madame- that was what a woman was called, capable doing whatever she pleased. “You’re not afraid to speak your mind, miss – I like that,” he had said. She liked it too, though she doubted there were many others who enjoyed listening to her opinions. Certainly not poor Marionette, who stormed off not long after. The Traveller, Paimon and Flins soon took their leave too, and Columbina didn’t have a chance to learn more about this mysterious Lightkeeper.
Columbina leapt down from her perch high upon the rock, and took a few steps in the grass, making sure not to crush the flowers beneath her feet. She was told they could change colours based on her strength- one day, she would like to see it for herself. A small Luonnotar stopped in front of her, and Columbina patted it lightly on its’ head, eliciting a small wiggle from the creature.
It pushed its’ head against her palm, and a brilliant idea rose up in her head, like the fake moon in the fake sky. She stretched out her senses as far as they would go, through Hiisi Island, through Lempo Isle- ah! There she sensed him, on Starsand Shoal. On a patrol, most likely.
The Luonnotar floated closer to her head, inquisitive. “You’ll find a Lightkeeper on Starsand Shoal,” Columbina instructed, softly, “try and lead him here.”
***
She didn’t know how much time had passed before she heard a faint thud of boots hitting the ground. Could have been and hour, could have been three- it didn’t matter much to her, anyway. Not like she had somewhere important to be.
As he entered her abode, she registered the lantern at his hip, its’ blue light filtering through her veil and closed eyelids as she tilted her head down towards him.
“Good morning, miss,” he said, standing just at the entrance to the cavern, and his voice sounded just as kind as the last time. “this little creature led me here. I hope I am not intruding.”
“No,” she answered truthfully, “you are not intruding. I asked it to find you, dear Lightkeeper.” She floated down again from her spot on the rock and took a few steps towards Flins, hydro beneath her heels, but still keeping distance. “You may come inside,” she beckoned him with her hand.
The Luonnotar flew towards her and bumped against her chest, demanding praise for a job well done. Columbina gave it a kiss on its’ head, then motioned for it to go.
“You told the Luonnotar to find me?” he asked, sounding a little taken a back. “May I ask why, Madame?”
Oh, there it was again! Did he know she liked it? She tried to always keep her face mostly expressionless, but it’s been a while since she needed to keep a blank face in front of the rest of the Fatui Harbingers, maybe her control had gotten a little rusty. Maybe a small smile slipped past last time.
“I was curious. I heard you live on the cemetery near Paha Isle, among the spirits. Please tell me, isn’t it lonely?”
He didn’t say anything for some time, just breathed. Columbina hoped she didn’t offend him. There was a rustle of clothes as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She felt his gaze on her as he breathed in, then out, “It is not so lonely, my lady. The spirits are like my neighbours, and their chatter fills the silence.”
He cleared his throat, sounding a bit out of his depth. “If I might ask a question of my own?”
He waited for her to nod before continuing. “Are you lonely, miss? With only Luonnotar and Kuuhenki to keep you company?” he parroted her words.
She hummed, the question intriguing. She didn’t really miss the Frostmoon Scions, and neither did she miss the Harbingers. Lauma sometimes came by, but their interactions were never very long and Columbina didn’t find herself thinking about her very often.
It almost seemed to her that her little creatures were enough of a company. Almost, really. She did ask one of them to bring Flins here, hasn’t she? That spoke for itself.
“Perhaps,” she allowed. One word, yet the confession felt like a boulder being lifted off her chest.
If Flins smiled, she didn’t see it. But she did hear him take one more step towards her, still keeping a respectful distance. “Then may I offer my own presence to fill your time? Though I admit, I am not accustomed to… companionship.”
Columbina put her hand in front of her mouth to stop herself from giggling. “You may, sir Lightkeeper. Your presence is most welcome. I am not an expert in… companionship either.” Experimentally, she stretched her hand towards him. He closed the distance between them and lightly grasped her bare hand in his gloved one. As he pressed his deathly cold lips against her knuckles, it felt like the Sun itself made a home inside her.
“Thank you, madam,” he murmured as he drew away.
Her heart beating wildly, Columbina fail to keep her treacherous mouth shut. “You may call me Columbina, dear Lightkeeper.”
He made a sound at the back of his throat, and Columbina didn’t think she was imagining the smile she heard in it. “Then please, you must call me Flins.”