Work Text:
The first thing you noticed as you groggily opened your eyes was the cold; not that it was entirely surprising to you, of course.
You were used to the perpetual icy winds of Sneznhaya. You grew up here after all.
The thing that did bother you though, was why it had invaded the usual warmth of your bedroom.
Sitting up in bed, you blinked what sleep you could out of your eyes, allowing them to adjust to the dark room before you.
That’s when you realised he wasn’t there.
The Regrator, Pantalone, Ninth of the Fatui Harbingers; or as you knew him: Feofan - your Husband.
Glaring at the empty space and ruffled sheets as though it had personally offended you, you swung your legs over the side of the large bed and let out a groan.
“Feo’…? If you’re working again I swear to the Tsaritsa I will drag you back to bed by that pretty hair of yours.”
You wasn’t normally this irritated by his absence. You were used to finding him awake at god awful hours, desk piled with paperwork. But he had just returned from Sumeru after several weeks away, and you just wanted to be close to him again.
Slipping on your dressing gown, you pull open the door to your bedroom and step out into the hallway.
All of the maids and servants were sleeping, and the guards were stationed far enough to guarantee your privacy, so you wasn’t too concerned with anyone seeing your disheveled state as you begrudgingly trudge the corridors to his office.
This was the first place you checked whenever you wanted to find him.
Knocking on the door out of habit, you push it open and take a peak inside.
Of course, there he was.
This was different to the familiar scene you were expecting, though.
The fireplace was unlit, and the lights around the room were off, leaving the moonlight to be the only thing allowing you to make out your husbands figure as he sat at his desk.
“Feo’? Everything alright?”
Your voice had seemed to pull him out of his thoughts as his head snaps up to look at you.
“Ah… my dear, what are you doing up at this hour?”
As if he didn’t know.
“I woke up, and you wasn’t there. You promised me you’d be taking some time off when you returned…”
Shutting the door behind you, you make your way over to his desk, taking in the subtle smell of polish that the house keepers had used earlier that day.
“Yes, forgive me. I suppose sleep wishes to evade me despite my efforts.”
Holding out his hand, he gently grasps your own and places a small kiss against your knuckles.
Something seemed different about him. His smile looked tired as it struggled to make it up to his eyes, and his voice had a hoarseness to it that he rarely allowed anyone to hear, not even you.
“Hey — are you okay? You seem… off?”
He pauses for a second. Eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly, and you can practically see the thoughts swirling behind his eyes.
“Mm… yes, I’m alright, My Love. Just a little worn down I suppose — nothing to concern yourself with.”
For someone whose entire position was based upon his abilities to charm and deceive his way in and out of situations, he was a surprisingly awful liar when it came to his emotions.
He was only human, after all.
“Hm.”
Not wanting to push him, you move to stand behind his chair and wrap your arms around his neck. Chin resting on his shoulder as you take in the contents scattered across his desk.
It was relatively organised as usual. Pens and stamps placed neatly in their designated places, paperwork that had yet to be looked through stacked in a tray next to ones that were ready to be filed away. That’s when it caught your eyes.
A small glass vial, filled with a luminous blue liquid.
That’s when you pieced it together.
You wasn’t personally that close with the Second. Sure you had met him a handful of times and endured his rather bold approach and views on his work — but Feofan was a far different case.
They were close. Two people who shared past experiences and present ideals for the same cause.
You knew of his past. How Dottore had helped him after he had been shot long before he gained his ranking as Harbinger. How he had, albeit begrudgingly, helped maintain his health, including performing a major transplant.
The blue vial contained an elixir. The Doctors life work that was now the reason your husband was here hundreds of years after his birth, despite still being human.
And now, the cunning and infamous Regrator was left mourning the loss of his friend.
Letting a soft sigh escape your lips and taking in the scent of cigarette smoke that clung to his clothes, you wrap your arms around little tighter around him, hoping it could bring at least a little comfort.
“You’ve been smoking again.”
“Vices are vices, My Love.”
A small silence falls over the two of you as you try and figure out the best way to comfort a man whose walls were notoriously impenetrable.
“You can talk about it, you know that, right? It’s just us here.”
Feofans shoulders tensed. His jawline setting into place as he bites back the urge to put up his defences.
“There is nothing to say about the matter. What’s done is done, and that’s all there is to it.” A pause, “Him and I both knew the outcome long before the contract was even signed.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to grieve. He was your friend.”
“Indeed he was.”
Letting his shoulders droop, he lets out a resigned sigh as he leans back into your embrace.
He knew you were just concerned, and he wasn’t about to let his own emotions get the better of him.
“He would think me such a fool.”
“For being upset?”
“Dottore-… ‘Zandik’ prided himself on being above emotional outbursts. He often chastised me for favouring his company to my colleagues.”
Ironic, you think. Considering the fact Dottore often made excuses to visit Feofan at least twice a week.
That’s when you noticed the subtle shaking in his breathing.
“Feo…?”
“Forgive me, I-… I was prepared, but I just…”
Leaning forward, he buried his face in his hands.
There wasn’t any sound to hint at his distress, but the soft tremble of his shoulders told you all you needed to know.
“Hey- hey it’s okay, let it out.”
Shifting your position to kneel down beside his chair, you quickly embrace him. He didn’t resist.
“Can you believe he had the audacity to ask what I’d be doing once everything was over? To expect me to just continue without his persist pestering.”
Removing his glasses, you gently tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.
“Who shall I talk with during the meetings with the Tsaritsa? Where do I place his funding? It was meant for him, not some boorish director from nowhere important.”
“Sweetheart…”
It hurt you to admit it, but you wasn’t exactly sure how you should comfort him. It was extremely rare to witness him cry, let alone break his walls down like this.
You choose to let him have a moment. The tremble in his shoulders gradually coming to a stop as he lifts his head from his hands, revealing his tear stained cheeks.
“Did he think I failed him…? In his last moments, did he resent me?”
Your heart sinks farther than what it already had.
Lifting your hand, you gently wipe the tears from his cheek with your thumb before cupping his face with your palm.
“No, no of course he didn’t. You said it yourself: he already knew the outcome of this. You didn’t fail him, Feo’… you helped him complete his goal despite everything.”
For a moment, he just stared at you.
You didn’t know if you said the wrong thing or not, but he had stoped crying at least.
After a few seconds, he reached his arms around you and held you in a tight embrace.
“I’m sorry you had to see me like this…”
“No, I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t let me see you like this. I love you. Whether it’s Pantalone, or Feofan. You never have to apologise for the version of you that you show me.”
“Thank you, My Love…”
The two of you stay like that for a moment. A Harbinger reduced to a man seeking comfort, and you gladly providing.
With a small sigh to compose himself, Feofan gently pulls away. Unfolding his glasses and placing them back on, he gives you a weak, yet genuine smile this time.
“If you wish to return to bed, you can. I’ve already kept you awake far longer than I should have.”
“Nonsense.” Quickly waving your hand in protest against the idea, you stand back up and place a kiss on top of his head. Black waves tickling your nose as you inhale the soft scent of his shampoo.
“If you think you can send me away after being gone for so long, then you’ve clearly forgotten who you married.”
He chuckles. Of course you wouldn’t give in like that.
“You stay here and I’ll go fetch some tea, alright?”
With a nod of his head and ‘hm’, you give him one more kiss on his head, before hurrying your way out of the office.
Door clicking shut behind you, Feofan leans back in his chair and stares at the vial.
Picking it up in his hand, he gives it a gentle swirl. Purple eyes watching it splash about inside the glass.
“Thank you for everything, Zandik.”
With that, he opens up his drawer and carefully places it on top of some handkerchiefs, allowing it to illuminate the other contents with a soft, blue glow, before closing the drawer and locking it.
“You were truly something special.”