Scaramouche was no fan of the Fontainian lifestyle. Everything was so pretentious. It sure was grand and beautiful on the outside, but he knew the dangers in the underbelly of the city. Not that it was dangerous to him, no. It just sickened him to see how everyone pretended it was such a great place. Add to that the existence of the House of the Hearth, and you’ll get a golden palace filled with rats.

Whatever. Scaramouche was in Fontaine just to get some supplies, but of course, the Knave had invited him to afternoon tea as soon as she heard of his presence here. He couldn’t care less what she wanted, and frankly, he was too busy to take time out of his schedule (he wasn’t). So, he declined.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take too long for him to figure out that the court of Fontaine was practically her domain. It’s the rats that own the palace, not the humans. 

He felt eyes on him as soon as he left the aquabus. The feeling followed him even on the elevator. It was abundantly clear someone was tailing him, but this place was far too busy to do anything about it. He also wasn’t in the mood. If anything he found it rather amusing. He sensed two people, one was following on the ground, and the other over the rooftops. Like 2 little kittens, he thought. Yes, they were children. 

He caught their movements as he turned the corner. A boy and a girl. Was this the knave’s way of asserting control? Was this supposed to be a warning? If so, it wasn’t very effective. If they were supposed to quietly tail him, they weren’t doing a good job. He had noticed them immediately. If they were supposed to serve as some sort of intimidating tactic… Well, they were children. Was he supposed to be scared?

He wouldn’t be daunted even if it was the Knave herself. She was just another human after a-

“Oh, sorry-“ a child had bumped into him. Though Scaramouche hardly felt the impact, the boy had fallen backwards pretty hard. “I-I didn’t see you.”

Scaramouche frowned. He was so focused on the kittens tailing him, that he hadn’t noticed the boy. How annoying. He looked around him. The street was surprisingly empty. No parents in sight, no witnessesses. Except for those children…

Ah, screw it. 

He kneeled down. The boy still laid on the ground. He was leaning up, having caught himself with his hands. He was silently crying, but his thick blonde locks hid his eyes. As he tried to stand up, he hissed. Ah, he had scraped his hands. 

In one swift movement, Scaramouche grabbed his wrist and inspected the scrapes. Must’ve been a hard fall. Then, he stood up, pulling the boy up with him.

”Go home and get that looked at,” he said as he let his wrist go.

The boy nodded and ran away.

Scaramouche pinched his brows in frustration. Those kids were watching him, and while it might have been amusing at first, now it was just annoying. What would they tell the Knave? He tsked. He’d find out soon enough. It was time to end this stupid game. He allowed those kids to follow him, but not anymore. 

He wasn’t overly familiar with the Court of Fontaine, but he didn’t have to be. He could read their movements well enough to escape. And so he disappeared in the shadows.

”Ah, Scaramouche, to think you showed up.”

He narrowed his eyes at the Knave. “How could I not? I can’t do my business in peace without being interrupted by a few children. It looks like there are a lot of rats here.”

As always, Arlecchino kept a neutral face. “When did you notice?”

”Why do you care?”

”I simply wish to know how well my children did.” She poured him a cup of tea, a cup she had already prepared for him before he had entered.

”And what will you do when they didn’t?” He took the cup and smelled it. Fontainian tea. Too much milk. Even more sugar. Hardly his favourite.

”You sound concerned.”

He rolled his eyes. ”Call it curiosity.”

”If necessary I’ll readjust their training.” Scaramouche remained silent at that. Truthfully, he didn’t care how Arlecchino preferred to train her children. It was none of his business. “So?” She asked. “How did they do?”

He hummed. “They found me as soon as I entered the city.”

”Scaramouche, despite your personality you choose to dress in such a striking manner.” If he didn’t know any better he thought he spied a smile. “You’d almost think you’d want the attention.”

He stared at her, unblinking. He didn’t feel like entertaining her curiosity. But as someone knocked on the door, he averted his gaze.

”Come in,” Arlecchino said. A boy entered with a tray of cookies. A boy he recognised instantly as the kid that bumped into him earlier. Apparently his expression betrayed his thoughts.

”Scaramouche,” Arlecchino said. “This is Freminet. I believe you met him before. It seems you didn’t recognise him as one of my children.” Scaramouche remained silent. “I told him to greet you earlier. He was very nervous about it, as were his siblings. I wondered, how would the infamous Scaramouche deal with a crying child?” She chuckled. “I can assure you the tears were real. That’s the effect you can have on a young impressionable child.”

Scaramouche raised a brow. “Are you trying to insult me?”

”I’m sure you’re aware of the rumours you generate, and you’re not trying to do anything about them.”

He rolled his eyes in indignation. “Why would I?”

”You do realise the reputation you have among the Fatui?”

He leaned back in his chair, gazing out the window to the busy street below. ”I couldn’t care less what the Fatui soldiers or the other harbingers think. Why would I spend my time trying to debunk a bunch of stories? New soldiers come and go.” His eyes turned back to her. “And so do new harbingers.” 

Intimidated, the boy looked between him and his father, until finally resting his eyes on the ground. Arlecchino just stared back at him. 

“Freminet, you can go now,” Arlecchino said. He nodded to her and swiftly left the room. “I think I’m starting to understand you a bit better now.”

”Tsk.” Was she trying to be sympathetic? This was all starting to feel like too much of a game to his liking. “I’m not interested in coming to an understanding. Just tell me what you want so I can get out of here. I’m not exactly fond of Fontainian tea.”

”I am aware.” And she still serves it to him? “But if not the tea, what would bring you to Fontaine?”

“I’m merely here to pick up supplies.”

”You’re not doing this for Dottore, are you?”

With that he leaned forward again. Did she think he was here to pick up some more… test subjects? “So that’s how you see me. Dottore can pick up his own things. When I say I’m here for supplies, it means I’m here for supplies.” He couldn’t care less what Dottore was doing. In fact, if it didn’t involve him he’d rather not know. Scaramouche wasn’t stupid though. He knew why Dottore was so interested in Arlecchino’s orphans, and what his deal was with the previous knave. The current Knave had refused his offer. He could guess why, but she was much much harder to read. And unfortunately, she was also much sharper. 

“How long are you planning to stay?” She asked him.

”That depends on my order.”

”If you are staying for a few days I have a simple request.”

”No,” he said curtly. He stood up. “I’ve attended this meeting and answered your questions. I have no intention of staying here for long. We’ll see each other again in Snezhnaya.”

And so he left, leaving his tea cold on the table. Arlecchino didn’t move to stop him. She knew he’d be back.

Delayed. His order was delayed. He hadn’t even ordered anything special, it just wasn’t widely available outside of Inazuma. He probably should’ve gone to Port Ormos or Liyue Harbour instead, but Fontaine was the closest to Snezhnaya and for once he didn’t feel like travelling across the world. But at least in Liyue or Sumeru he’d have better tea. 

Whatever, decisions were made. He would be stuck here for the time being. Probably another week. And somehow, he ended up in Arlecchino’s office again. 

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” she said. Bullshit. She didn’t seem surprised at all. “Perhaps you have the time to consider my request?”

He wanted to say ‘no’. She probably had a hand in that delay. But truthfully, he was curious. What could be so important for her to ask him twice, and even try to keep him here? And then, most importantly, he was bored. He could walk around the Court of Fontaine a million times, but he couldn’t even relax with Arlecchino’s agents everywhere. Those rats were on every street corner, at every shop, heck on every rooftop. He hated it. But then again, the thought of just relaxing and waiting bothered him even more. He didn’t get vacation. The last time he had some time off he spent it destroying a few clans in Inazuma, and that had been what, a hundred years ago?

Either the Doctor or the Jester would always have another task for him. The worst kinds no one else would do. Things only he could do. But still, it was better than doing nothing and wasting his time. Arlecchino was simply another harbinger that wanted to use him.

“Just spit it out,” he said impatiently.

”I hear you’re adept at the sword.”

”So?”

”I thought about what you said last time, what I would do if my children didn’t meet my expectations. Well, I expect them to do better, so I’ll readjust their training.”

”You thought of that before I even came to Fontaine,” he deadpanned. “You already had plans for me, didn’t you?”

”Have you ever taught someone how to use a sword?”

Scaramouche snorted. Then he laughed. A full on laugh that rose from his belly, it was an expression of his disbelief.

”Arlecchino, you are insane,” he said as he managed to calm down. She didn’t say anything and merely took a sip of her tea. “You’re gambling with the lives of your children here.”

She chuckled. “So that’s how you respond. Of all the complaints the infamous sixth could have, yours is to express your concern.”

”Hmph,” his laugh completely faded. He did not care for those children, it just seemed like something she should be concerned about. “I’m merely highlighting your stupidity.”

“You truly are different than the rumours say.”

”What makes you think I’d want to spend my time training a bunch of stupid kids.”

”Dottore would jump at the chance to get close to my children. Signora likely too.”

He scoffed. For two very different reasons, yes they would. But he wasn’t Dottore or Signora. “Then go ask one of them. What makes you think I’d even be slightly interested? Why would you even ask me?”

”The other harbingers have known you for quite some time. You don’t show it often, but the Captain has described your swordsmanship as quite beautiful… showy even.”

”You’ll just be teaching your children bad habits.”

”A showy style is exactly what I’m looking for. We’re in Fontaine, everything is about appearances.” She took another sip of her tea. “In that regard you’re quite a fascinating person too. No soldier would like to be in your team. Your reputation, the way you appear to others, it’s exactly what you want it to be. The most hated harbinger, dangerous and unpredictable. And yet, you can smile innocently, and appear oblivious and naive. I’m sure you can put up a less scary face in front of my children.”

”Pffft.” He laughed. “So that’s what this is about. You can’t even smile like a normal person. You can only be polite and courteous, but we can all smell how fake you are.”

“But we both understand the power of appearances, we can agree on that, yes?”

He paused, deep in thought. She was right of course. The rumours, he knew about them. Some were true and some were fake. He didn’t really care to confirm or deny any of them. But fact and fiction merely ended at events. No, he was not a cannibal, would it matter if he was though? He didn’t have a taste for any kind of meat, but he’d leave his subordinates to die if it would fulfill the mission. He had done so many many times. He didn’t want to learn their names or faces. He didn’t care if they were eaten by abyssal creatures or taken by Dottore for experiments. Why would he? But rumours, appearances… Not even he cared to know about his own truth. He didn’t know where the infamous Scaramouche started and he ended. He was Scaramouche. And Scaramouche didn’t care about children.

But sure, he would amuse himself for a while.

”If any of them die, it’s on you.”

And that’s how he ended up in charge of three of Arlecchino’s children. He quickly learned their names were Lyney, Lynette and Freminet. They were the same three kids that followed him that first day. He understood that they were intimidated by him, as they should be, and that they were very different from Arlecchino herself. He had never seen her act like a real child, but she must’ve been the same age as these twins when he first met her, at most she was 3 years older. By that age, she had already killed her predecessor. She never smiled and she never showed her hand. Even now she was barely any older, and she already had him fulfilling her lame requests like he was one of her disposable soldiers. 

Babysitting, that’s what it was. 

And how different they were from her. Only an hour in and he had their personalities down. A part of him was disappointed. But then again, not everyone could be a sociopath. Lyney was the oldest of the three. Extroverted, talked too much. Or at least he got the impression that he would normally be like that. Now, he was far too intimidated to speak normally. The other two kids hid behind him. Lynette was his twin. She was introverted, a bit shy. She seemed the most wary of the three. And then there was Freminet, who eyed a bit younger. He seemed the most anxious, but at the same time he kept to himself in a way that made him almost invisible. Scaramouche was almost startled when at one point the boy appeared close to him. He was silent, truly silent. A deadly trait. But he was also timid. Hmmm… it was always the silent, timid ones that could be the most dangerous. You never knew when they could snap. They were all orphans, of  course, but if he had to guess… Freminet was one of Crucabena’s children. He had that same vibe as Arlecchino, someone who had already devoted himself to the cause. The twins were more lively, like they still believed they could have their own hopes and dreams. But these children had nothing to live for outside the House of the Hearth. And that’s why he would have preferred if he didn’t know their names.

They followed him like ducklings. Diligently, they awaited his orders. It frustrated him to no end. He wondered, if he asked them to kill someone, would they? Just by virtue of being given command. If the Knave asked them, would any of them even refuse? Apparently Freminet was deathly scared of him when they first met. Through his own fears and tears the boy bumped into him on an empty street without witnesses. Scaramouche could have killed him, no doubt that’s what he expected. And yet, he followed the Knave’s orders. He feared disobeying her so much that he would even risk his life. And now they were left alone with him. Voluntarily. Arlecchino truly was insane. How vexing. 

“Uhm… lord Harbinger?” Lyney, the oldest, asked. “Are we going to… to do something?”

Scaramouche glared at them. The last thing he wanted was to be followed by a bunch of kids. They all immediately cowered at his scowl. What was it Arlecchino had said earlier? He could use a less scary face? Absolutely not.

“What do you usually do?” he asked.

“N-nothing…”

“Then keep doing nothing.”

And that they tried. They hovered around him like anemo slimes. Despite being stationary they couldn’t sit still. In other words, they were very bad at doing nothing. It irritated him. Guess he wasn’t the only one.

He stared at them for what felt like an eternity. They were so incredibly small, didn’t even get past his hips. In what world were runts like these useful for the Fatui? Forget about their disarming visage, they’d die if he’d blow at them.

“Lord Harbinger,” this time it was Lynette that spoke up. “Weren’t we going to learn the sword?” her voice held a tinge of excitement, and he was very glad to crush that excitement immediately.

“No,” he said. Then he rumbled around his pouch, took out some mora, and tossed it at them. It was Lyney that managed to grab it out of the air.  “Go buy yourselves some candy or something.”

“But father-”

“Your father allowed me to train you,” he snapped. “This is training. Use this Mora and try to convince a salesman to give you a discount.” He grinned. This way they wouldn’t follow him around, and he could at least tell the Knave he tried. He was sure she never used her charms to get a discount somewhere, unless you counted intimidation, so at least they were learning something new.

“How?”

“I don’t care. Be cute or something.”

The three looked at the Mora in Lyney’s hand, and then at each other.

“Go on,” he urged. “Scram!”

They flinched, and then scurried away like the stray cats they were. He watched them go, grinning to himself like he had solved all of his problems. Finally, he had some peace and quiet, or at least as much as was possible in the Court of Fontaine. And so, he stood there, pondering on what to do for the rest of the day. He could easily half-ass this training for the rest of the week like this.

One problem solved, another one emerged. He was back to having nothing to do and it immediately put him on edge. So much for alleviating his boredom. 

And then a tiny thought entered his mind. Weren’t candysellers often shady people that preyed on kids? Wouldn’t it be a sight to see how the Knave’s kids would handle that. He was sure doing a good job, teaching them how to be bait. 

So he followed them, maintaining a distance of exactly 10 Isshin blades. 

Nothing of interest happened though. If anything the ducklings followed his instructions to a T. They did manage to get a discount by playing cute. The candyman was just a regular old man without nefarious intentions. Unless the candy was drugged. 

The rest of the morning continued in much the same way. The little rats just scurried around the Court of Fontaine. At first they tried to find him, but he stayed hidden well enough despite his large hat. He thought Lynette made eye-contact with him at some point, but she certainly didn’t act on it. Maybe she was just staring off in the distance. 

Since they couldn’t find him, they just interpreted his command as “Go shopping and use your charms to get discounts,” which was pretty useful. He even saw Lyney nab a cookie for Freminet while he was conversing with the vendor. It was one thing to steal when the vendor wasn’t looking, but it took boldness to do so in plain sight. The old man did do a double take, but Lyney’s words kept him from prying, and the kids went on their way. Good sleight of hand and even better conversational skills. It must have taken a lot of practice.

Scaramouche decided that the ducklings could take care of themselves and each other just fine. Not that he particularly cared, but it was useful information. He wondered how they’d fare if completely separated from one another, for now it seemed that Lyney took charge. 

No matter, they were together now, and they were familiar with this place. He knew enough. If he were human, he’d probably be thirsty. It was his time to explore, where could a man get a decent cup of tea or coffee around here?

“Lord Harbinger,” Lyney said, appearing in front of him from thin air. Took them long enough, Scaramouche wasn’t exactly hiding. He sat outside at cafe Lutece, drinking the darkest coffee they had to offer. It wasn’t much, but it was better than whatever the Knave had given him. “Is it true what they say about you?”

Heh, that’s awfully direct. Arlecchino had assured him that they knew the rumours about him, that they even believed them. But if so, Lyney’s inquiry was not just direct, but also awfully brave.

“Well, who is they?” Scaramouche responded.  “And what do they say?”

Lyney looked around them, as if anyone could be listening in. Then, he leaned forward and whispered. “They say that you eat children and that you kill your own subordinates.”

Hmmm, where had he heard those cannibalism rumours before. Oh, right. Kabukimono. “Who is they?” he asked again. 

Lyney then climbed onto the empty chair across him. The little shit was starting to get comfortable. A quick glance behind him also revealed his younger siblings. Both of them were watching from a distance, hiding in the bushes just outside the seating area. Almost as if they had pushed Lyney towards him to demand answers. Cowards they were, but the boy was not deterred. 

“I don’t know who said it,” he admitted. “Maybe Lady Signora.”

Way to throw somebody under the bus. Not that it mattered, his opinion on Signora couldn’t get any worse anyway. Kids could be too honest, but that’s also why they were better than adults.

“Signora is a fool,” Scaramouche said. “She yaps a lot, but her words are bereft of meaning.”

“So it’s not true then,” Lyney tried to confirm.

“You should make your own conclusions.”

To his credit, Lyney actually seemed to think about it. “I don’t think she’s a liar,” he eventually said. Honest, but stupid. “But I also don’t think you eat children.”

Scaramouche neither confirmed nor denied. He just took a sip of his coffee (It was still very bad).

“Maybe you eat adults,” Lyney then continued.

Scaramouche nearly spit out his coffee, but kept his face composed. He smiled, wouldn’t that be something.

“Why are you asking this?” Scaramouche said, raising an eyebrow. What a foolish kid trying to sate his curiosity. Children never knew when to shut up. That’s how you’d end up dead.

Lyney suddenly looked serious. He sat up straight and looked the Harbinger straight in the eye. “Because I’m the oldest, and it’s my responsibility to protect my siblings.”

“Well,” Scaramouche would humour him then. “Kids taste awful.”

“So you won’t eat us?”

“My palate is more refined.”

Lyney perked up at that, and then turned his head to his siblings. He urged them to join him at his table. Scaramouche groaned. He’d rather just be left alone. 

Lynette walked slowly towards them, and pulled Freminet with her. They didn’t say anything as they joined, but the table was already too crowded.

“He’s not going to eat us,” Lyney said a little too loud. “Isn’t that great?”

“Hmmm,” Lynette supplied. “Why would someone who eats children say they eat children?” She stared at him suspiciously. She honestly had a point. But the fact that they spoke so freely already meant they disregarded their position. Maybe he should rectify that.

“Just because I won’t eat you, doesn’t mean everything else isn’t true.” 

The kids froze. Scaramouche laughed. Always fun to see people a little scared. 

“So tell me, what else did she say?”

“Lady Signora complained about how you treated your own.”

He scoffed. “My own what? Soldiers? They’re all dead if you must know.”

“How did they die?” Freminet said a little too fast. He immediately regretted it.

“Not important. Soldiers die.”

A silence fell, and Scaramouche used the opportunity to finish his drink. He didn’t know how much they knew about what the Fatui did, or what their future as agents of the House of the Hearth would bring. But best to let them know right now, right? Not that it would matter in the long run. You couldn’t escape the Hearth, they were stuck there for the rest of their lives, whether they liked it or not.

“Why do you seem so surprised?” he asked. “You came to me for answers. Didn’t Signora tell you all about me and the other harbingers? Probably forgot to leave out what a bi-witch she can be to her own soldiers.”

“She’s nice to us,” Freminet murmured. 

Lynette disagreed. “She’s only nice to us because we pretend to be nice to her.”

“I like her,” Lyney said. “We just need to give her a little attention.”

“It’s nice that you give her attention,” Freminet said under his breath. “Makes it easier for the rest of us.”

Scaramouche chuckled. Of course that bitch just wanted attention from children. He bet she brought them a lot of gifts just so they would act nice with her. Maybe she liked to pretend they were her own. But of course, no child would like her without material incentive.

“They say a lot of things about the Harbingers,” Lyney decreed. “But I don’t think you’re scary at all.”

With that his mood dropped. He didn’t care what they thought about him, but he also didn’t want to give them the impression they could do whatever they wanted. He knew what the harbingers were capable of. “You should be careful with your words,” he just said. “You don’t know if they’ll be your last.”

He stood up, threw some money on the table, and left. The children just watched him leave.

“We were wondering,” Lyney said hesitantly. “When are you going to teach us how to use a sword?”

Scaramouche sighed. He had finally found a quiet spot to read. It was almost like a park. Almost, meaning there was a singly tree, which was more than what the rest of the Court had to offer.

“Now why would I do that?” he answered. 

“Because father wants you too?”

Scaramouche scoffed. “I have no reason to heed her requests, I’m just doing her a favour by babysitting you.”

“She said we could learn a lot from you.”

“So?”

“So…” His expression shifted from one to another, it seemed he had a lot of things he wanted to say, but he just settled on “Please teach us?”

“Why do you want to learn swordplay?” Scaramouche asked. “Don’t you have better things to learn, like reading, writing, math and history.”

“We learn that too. Together with toxicology, infiltration, lockpicking… But we still need to get better at weaponry!”

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. How old was this boy? 12? 14? What kind of messed up place was the House of the Hearth? (He knew exactly what kind of messed up place it was).

“We need to learn it so we need to defend ourselves,” Lyney said. “Fontaine is pretty dangerous, especially with our line of work.”

You shouldn’t work in the first place. But Scaramouche couldn’t change that. He wouldn’t change that. Amusing as these children were at first, now they just made him tired, and he hadn’t even done anything yet. Tsk, Fontaine was just another thing to put on his long list of things he hated. 

“So, could you please teach us?”

“Or what?”

“Or.. I’ll keep asking?”

“How scary,” Scaramouche said. “Go steal a Bulle Fruit or something.”

The boy procured a Bulle fruit seemingly out of nowhere. “Already did.”

Huh… impressive. But not exactly convincing.

“So does that mean that-”

“No.”

“Can we please-”

“No.”

“You haven’t even threatened me.”

“What?”

“I mean, we’ll be good students. I’m used to practicing the same movement for hours on end. We can do it!”

“What gave you the impression that I cared?”

The boy didn’t have an answer to that. 

“Kids like you don’t need to learn how to use the sword,” Scaramouche said, more than annoyed. “You can play with toys, but the real thing would only get you killed. Wouldn’t want the House of the Hearth to lose future soldiers, do we?”

“In that case…” Lyney started weakly. “We… We’ll just go and swing swords around at the Fleuve Cendre! And if we get injured-”

Scaramouche rolled his eyes. “I already told your father that you might die. She probably wouldn’t care.”

“Oh.” 

“You certainly have a way with words though,” Scaramouche admitted. “Even if you were trying to play an insufferable annoying brat. Credit where credit is due, any other soldier would cower in fear of the Knave.” he sighed, and then looked the boy straight in the eyes. “Did you think I was just any other soldier?”

Lyney tensed up, “N-no, sir.”

“Good,” Scaramouche said calmly. “Keep that attitude up.”

“H-huh?” 

“Your strategy worked, you’re incredibly annoying, you know that?” He had to admire the tenacity.

“I-thank you?” Lyney finally relaxed. Heh, he wouldn’t be for long.

“Tomorrow,” Scaramouche said with finality. “Bring your own swords. And stay quiet.”

“Yes, Lord Harbinger!”

They took the Callas Line to the North of Fontaine. Time to get away from the city, to a more quiet, remote place. The ducklings nervously sat behind him.

“If we're bad students, are you going to kill us and bury us somewhere no one can find us?" Lyney asked him in a whispertone.

Scaramouche looked at him like he was crazy. At this point he wasn't sure if the boy was making a joke, but a glance at the others showed that they were still wary. It dawned on him that Lyney was trying to show them he wasn't that scary, which honestly he should be angry about. He found that he didn't care. If this came out and any Fatui soldier would try to disrespect him, he'd just kill them on the spot. Signora’s assessment of him wasn't completely wrong after all.

"You think I'm the type to bury bodies?”

"I don't know.”

He grinned. "I'm the type to send back bodyparts.”

"Oh,” he said nervously. “I don't think father would like that." 

“Well, father won't have to find your bodyparts if you are good students." 

“Okay," Lyney said, determined. “I'll do my best!" 

Teaching these kids was simple. He'd shown them a single move a couple of times and then told them to do it a hundred times. This was the way he learned, with a lot of diligence and patience. Of course, it was all about optics. He learned how to dance, not how to fight. But wasn't that what Arlecchino wanted? 

The kids were all silent, even Lyney, as they practiced the movements. He just stared at them in silence too. He had brought his book to read while they were busy, but he found himself invested in their progress. Each time they'd done a movement a hundred times they would have to combine it with one they previously learned. They never complained, even when he criticised their stance. Scaramouche pointed at their weak points with his sword, something that startled Freminet the first time. He flinched every time when the harbinger approached, sword in hand and ready to strike. Scaramouche didn't care.

He could see their frustrations though, especially Lyney's. It was clear to him that Lyney was struggling more than his siblings. Lynette was obviously the best. Her movements were elegant and sharp. She was flexible and managed to do most of the forms without much effort. Freminet looked like he had held a sword before, but his swings contained too much power. If he continued like this he'd end up throwing the sword when he’d try to swing. Lyney was a… special case. He wasn't weak by any means, and he wasn't stiff. He was just off. Out of his element.

How should he approach this?

Not his problem. He only had a few days.

At the end of the second day he finally got the time to read his book on the way back to the court of Fontaine. That was, until two tiny cat ears appeared behind the pages. 

This time it was Lynette, not Lyney, that whispered to him.

“Lord Harbinger, Are you going to hurt Lyney and send back his bodyparts?" She asked timidly. Her ears were slightly flattened, she was upset. She'd have to work on that. She was good enough at keeping her face schooled, but her ears showed him all the things she was thinking.

Scaramouche sighed and put away his book. "Why would I do that?”

"Because he's a bad student?”

"Is he?”

To her credit, Lynette mulled over it for a few seconds. "He's not doing what he's supposed to.”

"He is,” he cut her off. "He's just really bad at it.”

"Oh.”

"Yeah, now go back to your seat before you fall out.”

"Yes, Lord Harbinger.”

Not even a page further, she returned. This time with Freminet in tow. 

"Lord Harbinger,” she said. Scaramouche looked up from his book. Never would he expect Lynette to be the annoying one. "May we ask what you are reading?”

"No.” He hid them from view behind his book, but still continued to speak to them. “If you want answers don't ask such indirect questions.”

“...what are you reading?" It was Freminet that spoke up now. 

He lowered his poetry book again and pointed at the cover. The two just scrunched their noses and squinted their eyes. Confusion painted on their faces. He sometimes forgot that not everyone could read Inazuman scripture. Maybe these kids should learn more languages instead of swordplay, that would be useful for both a spy and a regular kid.

"Kuronushi,” he just said. 

The two cocked their heads sideways. Lynette even added a little twitch of the ears.

"It's Inazuman poetry.”

"I see…”

The two then kept standing there, like he hadn't told Lynette earlier it was dangerous (it really wasn't). They stared at him like they wanted to say something, but just didn't have the words for conversation.

"I… also like reading,” Freminet said.

"Good for you.”

"Mostly Fairytales.”

"Okay.”

"Are we annoying you, Lord Harbinger?” Lynette asked. The girl was apparently as bold as her twin.

"...yes.”

"Then why don't you tell us to leave?”

"You cheeky little sh-Do you want me to throw you overboard?” Both of them violently shook their heads. Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. "You can swim, right?” He assumed they could, if not Arlecchino really was a failure of a caretaker. Who would urge their kids to learn toxicology, but not how to swim.

"I'm not fond of water, but we can swim,” Lynette said hesitantly. 

"Freminet’s a really good swimmer," Lyney’s head popped into his sight. His face looked surprisingly unperturbed by his earlier failures, but his posture was rigid. The training had done a number on him. “But please don’t throw us overboard, we’ll be good!”

“Then go back to your seats and stay quiet.”

They obediently followed his order, but he could hear them whisper. It seemed the kids were trying to figure out the Inazuman language. He could feel their eyes on him and saw them move their heads closer every time he turned a page. The kids were so distracting, he wasn’t even registering any words. All the page flipping was just muscle memory. He sighed. At this rate he wouldn’t even be able to finish the poem.

”You’re loud,” he hissed. 

“Sorry,” Lyney said. “It’s just… we’ve never seen Inazuman before.”

”Doesn’t the Knave have a lot of agents in Inazuma?”

”I suppose we do have a lot of brothers and sisters there.”

”Brothers and sisters, huh?” He hadn’t been in Inazuma for years, but he knew about Crucabena’s agents. How long they had been stationed there, and that they would stay there until the Hearth took their lives.  “Have you even met these people?”

”No,” Freminet said a little too quickly. The twins both looked at him in surprise, but Lyney immediately demanded his attention away from his younger brother.

“Could you tell us a little more about Inazuma?” Lyney asked with a nervous smile. 

Scaramouche laughed. “Seems like you don’t want me to ask too many questions.”

”No, I mean…” Lyney murmured. 

“You’ll probably never see your ‘older brothers and sisters’ again, am I wrong? Half of them are likely already dead.”

All three kids silently looked at the ground. Even at this age, they all understood what it meant to be part of the Fatui. Especially that kid Freminet who had served under Crucabena. He probably had seen many faces come and go. What’s the use in playing house and making up a family, when all of them would just die in due time. 

They returned to their seats, and the rest of the journey continued in silence. Just the way he liked.

He couldn’t even finish a single poem. 

The next few days proceeded in much the same way. They would take the aquabus outside of the city, then train for hours. Practice a movement 100 times, then another, then another, then stick them together and make combinations. The kids reaffirmed his observations from the first day. Lynette was the best, then Freminet, then Lyney. 

Lyney’s failure to get good made him nervous, and in turn that made him sloppy. He simply wasn’t cut out for swordplay, Scaramouche decided, but that didn’t mean he would be useless in a fight. He remembered the first day, how lyney managed to steal a cookie with ease. Scaramouche concluded his hand eye coordination was great and better suited for a different weapon type.

Freminet showed the same problems as the first day. His movements were fine, if a bit too energetic. The swords were too light for him. Additionally, he never balanced the sword well, it seemed like he didn’t know what to do with his other arm. And finally, it didn’t look elegant at all, which was what the Knave wanted him to learn. 

Lynette was incredibly talented. She had the greatest balance, and she successfully used her tail to achieve that. There were some movements she had trouble with, but she learned quickly. She could weave together movements on her own and make it look good. In his opinion she was ready for the stage. 

But what about a real fight? 

Arlecchino only asked him to make them appear good. She never said they should be able to defend themselves. If anything, that’s her job. And he did warn her that learning pretty fighting would lead to bad habits in actual swordfighting. For him, that didn’t matter. A normal sword couldn’t harm him anyway, his skin was too thick, but for them?

Not his problem.

He had always learned that the best stage fighter would be someone who was already an expert fighter or dancer, but he didn’t have the time to make experts. Best to stick to the basics and then write Arlecchino a report.

“Lord Harbinger,” Lyney said as he sat his ass down next to him, the other two kids followed. They were sitting on the aquabus again on the way to their last training together. It must’ve looked comical, one eccentric harbinger next to three little ducklings. Freminet took a giant book out of his bag, so giant it must’ve been larger than the bag itself.

“What,” Scaramouche responded. He was barely a page into his book.

“In an effort to not bother you while reading anymore, we decided to bring our own reading.”

Freminet, sandwiched between his siblings, opened the book on his lap. It was so large, it basically covered all three of their laps.

“Haven’t you already read this one?” Lynette asked as she raised the frontcover in an attempt to see the title.

“Yes, but I like this story a lot… and I’ve already read everything.”

The three continued their childish musings on the book, a fairytale by Anya Andersdottir. What had been whispers the first day, were now lively conversations. 

Scaramouche raised an eyebrow. “By bringing your own book and discussing it next to me, you’re still bothering me.”

“O-oh,” Lyney said. Scaramouche scoffed, the boy knew exactly what he was doing. He also didn’t make an attempt to quiet the others down.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” he said a little louder to disrupt their conversation.

The three finally stopped talking. Lyney cocked his head sideways in faux confusion.

“Of course not! What would the purpose be?”

Scaramouche merely hissed at them. What could their purpose be? In what world would loudly annoying him benefit them? Was their purpose to be thrown off board?

Lyney innocently smiled at him. The other two did the same, but in their own unique ways. Worst of all, he didn’t even think it was fake.

“You’re not going to throw us off, are you?” What should’ve sounded like a challenge, merely seemed like an innocent inquiry coming from the young catgirl. 

“Sorry if we’re too loud. Thank you for being patient with us.” Even worse, Freminet sounded legitimately sorry and appreciative.

“In what world am I being patient?”

“We’re still alive aren’t we?” Now Lyney on the other hand sounded a bit too proud of himself. Just because he had admittedly been bored enough to be patient, did not mean he would stay patient for long. Scaramouche gave them a dangerous grin. If only they knew what the lesson would be today.

“Today we’re going to spar.”

“Spar? But we’re an uneven number,” Lyney remarked. 

“Did I give you permission to talk? I haven’t even finished my explanation yet.” Scaramouche flicked him on the forehead, and he immediately reached for his head in pain. Heh, that’ll show him. “Three of you, against one of me.”

All three opened their mouths to protest, but he stopped them with a single glare. They knew better.

“Here are the rules.” He threw down a giant sack. It rolled open and revealed a plethora of deadly weapons. So far the kids had used their own, they were simple hand me downs from the Fleuve Cendre. The first day they had even brought a pipe. Didn’t the Knave have adequate funds for her orphanage? Sure, a rusty pipe could be deadly, but their victims would die from an infection rather than a cut. That would give them too much time to escape and run their mouths. “You can use any of the weapons lying there. I don’t care if it’s a sword or anything else.”

Lynette raised her hand, and Scaramouche allowed her to speak. “You’ve only taught us the sword,” Lynette said matter of factly. 

“Yeah, and some of you suck at it.” Truthfully, using these other weapons without training could be dangerous. It would be no different from them practicing on their own in the Fleuve Cendre. But Scaramouche trusted in their ability to know their own limits, and if anything happened… well the Knave couldn’t hold him responsible anyway. 

“There are two ways for you to win. First, you win if you hit me.” This would be difficult. They had never seen him fight. “Second way,” he took out two bells from his pouch and rang them. Then he tied them to the Bachi hanging from his Kasa. “If you manage to steal one of these you win.” That could be interesting. He had no intention to hide, especially not in Fontaine’s open plains, but if he wanted to be sneaky it would be very hard. Those things were loud. But simultaneously, they’d ring if the kids would try to steal them too. This may be more of a disadvantage for them than for him. 

They probably thought hitting him would be the easiest way to win. 

“Well,” he held up his hand and then counted down with his fingers. He grinned. “Let’s begin.”

He thought it would start with the kids freezing in front of him as they assessed the situation. As of now, he was unarmed, but he hadn’t said anything about him attacking them. But no, Freminet immediately took up arms. He dug through the bag and fished out a two-handed sword. It seemed he knew his strengths and weaknesses very well. This one would work better for him than the sword he had been using up until now. 

Without hesitation, he charged. He aimed for the neck. Heh, maybe he was waiting for this moment. Had he been so harsh his students hated him? If so, Freminet would probably hate him even more after this training. Scaramouche considered blocking with his bare hand, but would that count as a hit? He hadn’t specified, and he didn’t want to spoil the fun just yet. So he simply evaded by leaning back and holding out a foot, tripping Freminet in the process. The boy fell forwards, on the flat side of his sword. Ouch.

Deja Vu, just like the day they met, the boy made friends with the ground. 

In the meantime, Lynette had picked up a sword. It was a simple, one-handed sword, similar to the one they practiced with. She attacked him with precise movements, first going in with a feint, only to attack from a different side. She was a model student. Very basic. He could admit he was a bit proud, but as she tumbled in front of him to strike, he just slapped her wrist away. She almost fell, but unlike Freminet, she had a tail to rebalance her. She didn’t quite hit the ground, but she ended with her back to Scaramouche. He simply pushed her down with his foot.

Now, it was Lyney’s turn. The fool had picked up a regular sword. Surely he’d know it wouldn’t do him any good? As he charged in, all Scaramouche had to do was flick him on the forehead, the same exact place he had done before. He shouldn’t have left such a wide opening. How pathetic.

Now was the time for the kids to freeze and assess the situation. They already had a taste of dirt, they probably wouldn’t charge without thinking again. Scaramouche faux-yawned. “How boring, maybe I should make this a bit easier for you.” He shook his head a few times and the bells greeted them with a cacophony of sounds. Just a little movement could set them off. “How about this, you little failures, you win once the bells start ringing.”

“Then, what if something else makes them ring?” Lynette asked, her ears curiously moved up and down.

“If the wind blows hard enough, you win.” Lucky for him, his back was covered with a veil. It should block the wind a little.

“You’re just mocking us,” Lyney said, frustrated.

“Oh come on, aren’t you rats from the House of the Hearth? Didn’t you say Fontaine was a dangerous place? Stop complaining and try to make them ring.”

Lynette and Freminet moved simultaneously. Bold. Something like this could definitely be dangerous. Ideally a group would attack a single target at once, but when inexperienced with weapons they could pose a danger to their teammate. Fortunately, the two knew each other well enough to move fluently together. Freminet, as the more aggressive of the two, led the assault. Lynette supported him, understanding her brother’s movement well enough to avoid him. Her inexperience made her a bit sloppy though, it was harder for her to apply the stances she had learned in practice like this. Especially when Freminet was doing his own thing. The two had decided to attack his hat instead of him, hoping the movement would result in the ringing of the bells. He smiled. Unfortunately for them his hat was the most protected part of his body. No way he would let it get hit. 

Meanwhile, Lyney just made vague movements in the background, undecided how he would engage.

Maybe Scaramouche should help out a bit, lest it would get too boring.

“You know,” Scaramouche yelled as he grabbed Freminet by his wrist and threw him against his sister. The two of them fell backwards and landed near Lyney’s feet. “There aren’t only swords in that bag.”

All three looked up, Lynette’s ears even perked up. They immediately rummaged through the bag. It had nunchucks, naginatas, regular polearms, slingshots, heck even catalysts. They all cycled through various weapons, gladly attacking him like he was some kind of test dummy. It continued like this until well after noon, when Lyney raised his hand, panting.

“Can-” he coughed out. “Can we take a break?”

“You can just do whatever you want,” Scaramouche said. “I don’t care.”

“Okay.” All three of them flopped down on the grass. In all the hours they had been doing this, Scaramouche had hardly moved from his spot. Never had he attacked them on his own. Lyney realised he wouldn’t harm them, that was not part of the test. They could rest, there was no time limit for this task. His suspicions were confirmed when Scaramouche took out his poetry book and started reading.

After ten minutes or so, Lyney stood up and scrambled through their own bags, taking out a few water bottles. He handed them out to his younger siblings, who both looked even more drained than him. They quietly drank their water, and after a few more minutes they decided to continue.

“We’re ready,” Lyney said.

“Okay,” Scaramouche didn’t bother to stop reading. If they wanted him to pay attention to them, they better make him. 

And they tried. Hard. The sky dusked. Fontaine was submerged in the golden hour’s last rays of light. Scaramouche had managed to read more of his book than he did in any of the prior days. What a joyful day it was. He could read in relative peace and simultaneously beat up a few kids. Best of all, tomorrow his order would be ready. The kids had cycled through most of the weapons and Lynette finally returned to the sword she started with, while Freminet had decided on a claymore. Lyney had settled for the slingshot for now, but he toyed with the idea of using the catalyst. 

Freminet and Lyney fell back in a familiar rhythm, and while they didn’t quite hit the mark, they got better at not getting their asses kicked. He didn’t exactly state it out loud, but this was also a lesson in dodging and blocking. Lyney could read his siblings’ movements well, and while his shots weren’t always accurate, they were always timed perfectly. With each shot he got a little better, and the ground provided him with plenty of ammunition. But as the evening grew darker, it became harder to see and harder to shoot. 

And while Scaramouche had no issues deflecting attacks in the dark, he did have issues reading. He closed the book with a loud thud, and all three kids immediately ceased their movements. It was as if he had released them from a trance.

“Oh no,” Lyney said fearfully. 

“I’m done reading,” Scaramouche merely said. 

The three stared at one another in disbelief.

“Will you give us another chance?” Lyney asked desperately. “I don’t think we can do it yet.”

“This is my last day in Fontaine.”

“You won’t come back?” Lynette’s ears flattened, and her face looked equally upset. He didn’t think it was possible for her to sound so sad.

“Why would I come back?” He asked coldly. “I’ll probably be too busy to come back anyway.”

“There’s still so much you can teach us, Lord Harbinger.” Lyney continued his plea. 

Scaramouche snickered. “Lyney, you’re a fool if you think I can teach you how to use a sword.”

“It’s only been a few days, I’ll get better, I promise!”

“Lyney can practice the same move a thousand-no a million times! He’s done so before!” Lynette supplied.

Scaramouche snorted. Why were they so desperate to get him back to this shithole? Hadn’t he made it clear he wasn’t doing this for fun? How annoying he thought they were? Was Arlecchino so negligent she couldn’t even entertain a few kids?

“If you leave now, we’ll never pass this test.”

“It’s just a game,” he said, irritated. 

“We’ll be good students, promise!”

The twins continued their barrage. But somehow, instead of the kids, he found himself annoyed with the Knave instead. Who had taught them to beg like worms? “Listen up you little–”

DING DING DING DING

The bells rang loudly, filling Fontaine’s quiet plains with sound. It was Freminet who had sneaked behind him while the twins were annoying him.

“Oh!” Lyney yelled. “We won!”

“That’s not–” He turned to Freminet, who quickly scurried away to hide behind Lyney. The twins innocently smiled at him. There was just enough light still for him to see.

“Fine.” As soon as the word left his mouth, the three once again flopped onto the ground, exhausted. Relieved. They laughed.

Physically, Scaramouche felt no different than this morning, but emotionally he was confused.

“What did you do,” he asked, not exactly wishing for an answer. Not exactly understanding what he was asking for.

He tried to sound angry, but really, he wasn’t. He didn’t know how he felt. It wasn’t anger or even annoyance. Maybe it was disappointment. It was a sense of finality. He couldn’t tell that it was pride.

“Be cute!” Lyney yelled, self-satisfied. His sister giggled, while Freminet chuckled.

He snorted.

They really did listen to him, didn’t they?

Darkness had finally gripped the night sky. They had managed to catch the last aquabus back on the Callas line. Of course, he had forced them to walk back on their own.

Finally they were quiet. Too spent from the spar to expend energy for talking. Heh, what effort it took to get to this point. He could finally experience peace. 

And so, he spent the evening reciting Kuronushi’s poems. First in Inazuman, then a translation.

Breezy spring showers

Feel like falling tears drops,

Sakura blossoms

Fall and scatter and yet

No one seems to care.

He could feel the children’s eyes on him, but they remained silent. They probably didn’t understand what it meant anyways. But as he talked, they listened. Freminet eventually rested his head on Lynette’s lap, who in turn leaned on Lyney’s shoulder. As the boat slowly continued its journey, lyney too had difficulty staying upright. He wobbled sideways, until his head hit Scaramouche’s arm. He felt Lyney stiffen against him, but as he continued his recital in peace, Lyney relaxed against him. 

By the time they arrived in the Court of Fontaine, all three ducklings had fallen asleep. 

Once he received his order Scaramouche left without a word. He didn’t even talk to the Knave, why would he?

Maybe… he should have said something to the ducklings. 

Next time. Then he would also tell them the story of the steadfast soldier. They deserved that as a reward for their hard work.

He laughed at himself. Loudly, mockingly. He was the biggest fool of them all. There wouldn’t be a next time. Especially not in the Fatui.