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On Columbina’s first tea party, both as a Harbinger and her first one at all, there were four of them. It was, too, the first time she got introduced to the concept of preferences in names.
Signora soon said she preferred to be called Rosalyne when not during work, Sandrone was set on being referred to as Sandrone, and Arlecchino revealed to them her birth name was Peruere but would rather still be Arlecchino due to reasons she might disclose with them one day. Said day did come time after, by the way, but only Sandrone and Columbina herself were privy to such information… for a myriad of reasons, one being how Rosalyne was no longer with them.
Meanwhile, Columbina was just Columbina, because she had nothing else.
“I used to have another name.” She told her three fellow Harbinger women, her three fellow coworkers who would become her friends-- or it would be more accurate to say they were friends already, and she simply wasn’t sure about it yet. “But I never felt like it was mine, even if everyone called me by it.”
“That could mean many things, you know.” Sandrone was the first to speak right after.
“Like a big change.” Arlecchino agreed. “Which also can have many reasons and sources.”
Columbina, despite not having had a proper upbringing in the most typical sense, had been acquainted with what they meant, especially thanks to them and other Fatui members; some people didn’t grow up to be the gender they had been thought of to be and reshaped themselves, some wanted to let go of the past and forged new identities for themselves, others simply went along with the names they were given while wandering around the world… in fact, there might as well be as many existing reasons as there was people, and that was fascinating.
“We do not mean to pry, of course.” Rosalyne said next. “But if you wish to tell us, either now or in the future, feel free to. We will be here for you.”
How cruel fate was, since she was actually the first to leave on a more permanent sense of the way-- not the organization, but in general. But, right now, none of them could know, and the storm coming in the future was but a mere cloud.
As time went on, so did their tea parties.
The four of them were always a constant, but it was also a notable occurrence how their numbers slightly increased; out of the rest of the Eleven Harbingers, Capitano was deemed as inevitable, partly by unanimous consensus and partly by Sandrone’s agreement specifically since her being the main organizer and tea set provider meant she reserved the right of having final choices to herself-- even if there had never been any issues so far for they tended to be in the same wavelength when it came to those events.
Capitano, in a similar fashion to Arlecchino but at the same time somewhat differently, didn’t hide Thráin from them, but quickly expressed how he leaned more towards being referred to by his moniker at least for the time. Such an ‘at least for the time’, of course, was a source of curiosity for Columbina even if she didn’t get to satisfy it.
Maybe she should have.
“I would like to bring a new guest next time, if everyone is fine with it.” He said one day, opening up the sugar cubes’ container so Rosalyne and Sandrone had it easier to take one each.
“As long as they’re not Dottore.” Arlecchino commented, almost deadpanned. In barely a heartbeat, Sandrone snorted with no restraint. The possibility, Columbina was more than sure of, was unlikely; those two didn’t like him at all, and he was neither Capitano’s nor her own favorite from the remaining members.
“I would bet his pick is our newest addition, that boy who has pretty much imprinted on you like a duckling or a lost puppy.” Rosalyne added too, and had she actually put a bet on it, she would have won: Capitano quickly nodded.
The having imprinted on Capitano part turned out to be a bit of an exaggeration on Rosalyne’s part, but still it was crystal clear that Childe (who, by the way and going back to the names topic, was also more than fine with being called Tartaglia-- his real name being more of a thing to be shared with family rather than coworkers) did admire him quite a lot.
“It’d be an honor and a pleasure to spar against you, really.”
Of course, there was no sparring of any kind in those meetings, not beyond silly competitions over who would be fast enough to claim the next pastry or so on. That was usually Tartaglia, and despite some groans he tended to get away with it because he was still growing and probably needed it the most. Then, there was Sandrone, who could beat him in speed and strength of grasp when putting her mind to it and was pretty much unbeatable. Rosalyne was more of a stealth user than anything, so when interested she usually tried to pull the necessary strings instead of rushing. Arlecchino and Capitano could manage more than well enough, but tended to be more inclined towards leaving said last pastry for someone else.
Then Columbina… Columbina had yet to develop her skill to do it, therefore she ended up losing during all her attempts, which weren’t many in the first place.
Everyone else had noticed, though, and that became apparent when both Arlecchino and Sandrone’s hands collided against each other’s. Tartaglia gasped as if a fight was going to be unleashed, but all that happened was them sharing a long glance, more questioning than daring. She didn’t understand why until words came, and even after that it took a bit.
“You have the same idea as me.” Sandrone said, and such a choice of words seemed to be puzzling only in Columbina’s own case out of everyone else; Capitano was completely calm, and Rosalyne simply snickered.
“I do.” Arlecchino confirmed, and from then they changed strategies to work together instead. Which meant Arlecchino fetched a tiny plate, Sandrone carefully placed the pastry over it, and soon enough it was delivered to Columbina as if the gesture had been nothing at all.
For her, by the way, it had been.
As their numbers increased, they ended up dwindling too.
First, it was Rosalyne, who went to Inazuma for a gnosis-related mission and never returned. In fact, it was at her funeral when the last proper meeting took place, since Capitano set course for Natlan not that long after, and Tartaglia and his own work missions got in the way too. Or perhaps he wasn’t that interested in attending without Captiano, as Sandrone speculated once.
And speaking of Sandrone, she and Arlecchino soon became not just the only constants at the tea parties alongside Columbina herself but the only attendants as well.
At least until Columbina too left, that was.
Resigning her position as a Harbinger, no longer being a member of the Fatui… all of that had meant the bond she had with both Arlecchino and Sandrone would get severed, given that was the only thing connecting her to them-- except that was just what Columbina herself believed, and not the truth at all.
It had been when the two of them didn’t hesitate in helping her when needed, actually, when she fully realised friendship had been there all along and it was way stronger than any work connection that got broken.
It had been, too, when Columbina fully became Columbina by virtue of embracing that name in its entirety.
And-- and she had also realized maybe ‘friends’ wasn’t the only word which described her relationship with them either. Even if acting too much on it seemed unwise, given how she intended to leave no matter what.
(And all she still had to learn about interactions with others, too.)
Though, if there ended up being a way to travel on a regular basis, maybe…
“Are you alright?” Arlecchino asked, pulling her away from such a trail of thought and back towards the real world. Back to the ongoing festival (she was still wearing the cat ears, Columbina noticed), and how there were still many things she could do before parting.
“One would think you might be feeling more funny in the amused way, given how you caused me to make a fool of myself not once but twice at that stupid game.” Was the next comment inserting itself in the conversation, by virtue of Sandrone joining in too; they had gone together to find her, it seemed. “If you want some cheering up over pre-travel nervousness, pick something else, too. I got tired of being your court jester, alright?”
“Oh. Alright.” She said, partly to oblige and partly because Columbina did indeed have something else in mind already. “I know it cannot be the exact same with the setting we are in, but could we have tea together one more time?” Saying ‘one more’ instead of ‘one last’ was, obviously, completely intentional.
Arlecchino glanced at Sandrone. Sandrone glanced at Arlecchino. Both then glanced at Columbina, and with matching small smiles on their faces, she was offered a:
“Tsk. Of course.” From Sandrone.
“Gladly.” By Arlecchino.
Yes, it wasn’t the exact same details-wise because they weren’t at one of the usual spots nor they had the classic tea set Sandrone owned, but finding a stall at the festival that both served tea and had an empty table the three of them could occupy turned out to be quite easy.
Therefore, soon enough the tea party was on, pastries included.
“I will miss this.” Arlecchino said once they were all settled, with no trace of shame in her voice.
“Me too.” Columbina swiftly agreed. “Though perhaps it can still happen in the future.”
“Why are you making promises you still do not know if you can fulfill?” Sandrone then added, scrunching her nose and taking a sip of her own tea. In order to make it the most similar to other times, all three had chosen the same one, a warm spiced one which was the locals’ favorite and almost everyone at the festival was trying out or likely would at some point. “But yes, it will not be the same without you.”
“Not promising,” She somewhat assured. “just hoping.” Sandrone’s scoff could be interpreted as either fondness or disbelief, and Columbina was more than sure she had done it on purpose.
Silence only fell between them because drinking the tea before it cooled off was the best way to enjoy that one, but still, the atmosphere of making the most out of their time together before Columbina started her journey back to the home that had seen her come to life remained. Emphasis on the ‘the home that had seen her come to life’, since coming to realize there were people who appreciated her as her and not as a goddess or asset was also changing up her definition of home a bit.
Perhaps there wasn’t just one, and perhaps it wasn’t always a place.
Her mind wandering towards that one time where Sandrone and Alrecchino had snatched the last pastry to offer it up to her, Columbina sort of made a point of being now the one returning the favor as the next to last was claimed by Sandrone.
Sure, there was only one, but the possibility of sharing it was always there.
Upon reaching out towards the pastry, though, she quickly realized her friends also had the same idea; three hands touched, the tips of their fingers partially stacked over each other’s, and for a while none of them moved. Was it about leaving the rest a chance to take the pastry for themselves, was it about the contact per se? She couldn’t speak for either Sandrone or Arlecchino, but in Columbina’s case, it was a mix of both reasons: if they took it, her objective would be reached anyway, and the feeling of their hands on her brought the most comfortable warmth to bloom on her chest and spread around her body.
“Well,” Arlecchino was the first one to do something about their current situation, speaking softly. “any of you can have it, or both. We can split it.”
“I was going to say the same thing too.” Sandrone then added.
Them exchanging a glance, similar to what Columbina remembered happened when they unanimously agreed to give it to her, only reaffirmed her resolution of giving it to them instead. Or perhaps…
“It will be just a small piece for all of us, but we could always split it in three parts instead.”
Both nodding in almost perfect synchronization was followed by all three of them retreating their hands. Then, Arlecchino was the one wordlessly taking charge of said splitting. Sandrone had once joked about how raising children must have made her develop an amazing eye for measurements in everything related to the wonders of sharing, and she had actually confirmed such information very seriously; in fact, she had managed to break more than one fight between her kids that way.
Once they all had a piece, there was yet another exchange of glances now between all of them, as if they were preparing to toast with a bit of pastry instead of by using their (now almost gone) drinks.
It definitely felt like toasting, to be fair: a toast to them, and to hopefully meet again after that night.
Which would end up happening, yes, but not until after dealing with some issues.