Chapter Text
Even in the halls of Zapolyarny Palace, the air was frigid.
The Fair Lady stepped with confidence and grace towards the dingy burrow that qualified as the Second Harbinger's laboratory. Although this was far from the way La Signora had wished to spend her day, sometimes there was no choice but to do unpleasant things. Even if the unpleasant things in question included giving her eccentric and distasteful younger colleague a visit.
Where Pierro had even found the feral little rat, she had no clue. Nor did she know why the Jester saw it fit to make him of all people a Harbinger, let alone a higher ranked Harbinger than her.
Well… That was a lie. The brat was brilliant, of that there was no doubt. Not that she would ever utter these words out loud, especially not to his face.
She thankfully did not need to knock more than once for his annoying voice to ring out, signifying that she could enter.
"Not even bothering to open the door for me? That's not very gentlemanly of you, Dottore. And I see your working conditions are as abysmal as ever," she drawled, sending a disdainful look at the various scrolls and papers scattered over his desk and pinned up on walls and boards. Vials filled up with unknown liquids glinted ominously from where they were lined up, whereas various tools she didn't even know the name of surrounded them.
Her voice caused the blue-haired man (no more than a boy, really) to jolt ever-so-slightly and face her, crimson eyes narrowing in annoyance.
She smirked back at him tauntingly. Somehow, her own vexation was dwindling away at the opportunity to get on the brat's nerves.
"Signora. To what do I owe the displeasure?"
She scoffed. "Oh, believe me, this is the last place I'd come to willingly. I have much better things to do with my time than to waste it by visiting you, of all people."
His eyes merely narrowed further, unwilling to rise to the bait. "Get to the point, will you? You're interrupting my work, though you clearly lack any sort of work-ethic whatsoever since you only ever dawdle around instead of getting your hands dirty."
The nerve of him.
"Watch it, rat. Pierro may be tolerant of your insolence, but I certainly am not. You should watch your mouth if you want to stay in one piece."
By his expression, he was about to completely ignore her advice, though he seemed to wise up at the last moment, gritting his teeth instead. "Whatever. What do you want?"
"My delusion has become unreliable lately. It either radiates too much Cryo energy and almost freezes my limbs off, or doesn't radiate enough. And no," she didn't give him a chance to speak up, "I am not the source of the problem. My delusion has been working fine ever since I got it. For this to happen now means that something's wrong with it."
She left it at that. There was no reason to add that without a working Delusion, her Pyro energy becomes painful to manage. Showing vulnerability was risky in the Fatui, especially around someone like the Doctor. Despite not having been colleagues for long, there was something inherently dislikeable about him, and that seemed to be a common sentiment.
Thankfully, the blue-haired menace didn't reply anything to that, merely holding his hand out, wordlessly demanding that she pass him the Delusion.
As soon as he was given the object, he held it close to eye-level, rotating it slowly with a scrutinizing gaze. Then, he stood up and started grabbing various objects and pieces of equipment that Signora couldn't even begin to name, and got to work.
Uninterested in observing what the Second Harbinger was doing (not that she could even see much from this angle), Signora went and sat on the closest chair she could find, but not before brushing off the various papers that were on it. She easily ignored the irritated glare sent her way from the younger Harbinger.
There wasn't anything interesting enough to keep her attention, given the sorry state of the lab itself, so she settled for watching the brat work in silence.
Now that she thought about it, him working alone was a bit odd, albeit not unusual. As a Harbinger, Dottore has many subordinates he could boss around, some of whom were assigned as lab assistants. Not that he seemed to need the help, given how often he dismissed them and asked to work alone.
"I see you shooed away your subordinates again. How many times does this make? Thirteen? Sixteen?"
For a moment, she thought that he'd simply ignore her, but he eventually spoke up without looking up from his work. "Fourteen, not that you'd actually care. They were being annoying and not letting me work. So I dismissed them."
Now that was interesting. From what she heard by eavesdropping on the gossip around the palace (some people really needed better awareness of their surroundings), Dottore usually dismissed his assistants if he felt that they were holding him back in some way, which happened more and more as time went on. But never had she heard of them directly interfering with his work.
"An intriguing choice of words there, Dottore. Pierro hand-picked most of them specifically so they could keep up with your experiments. As much as anyone could keep up with your insanity, anyway. What could they have possibly done to prevent you from working your vicious little heart out?"
From the angle she had, it was no trouble at all to notice how his expression soured. It was always entertaining how much easier it became to read Dottore's facial expressions when he wasn't wearing a mask.
"They were being a nuisance," he sounded downright petulant as he argued back.
Signora didn't bother replying to that, only giving a sarcastic hum. It had the intended effect of irritating the doctor further as his movements while examining the Delusion became stiffer.
"They wouldn't stop hovering," he growled. "Kept trying to push me into delaying my projects and 'taking things easy' by pretending that I somehow needed to. They had the gall to try ordering me around and slowing down productivity!" He took an angry breath, visibly forcing himself out of the angry slouch he had ended up in. "So, I told them to get out of my lab. The damned fools weren't any help anyway."
His rage-fueled rant wasn't entirely surprising given his clear aggravation, but it still caused Signora to sit straighter and take a closer look at the blue-haired menace. Her critical once-over revealed what she had not noticed before: his sunken eyes were surrounded by dark eye bags, and his face looked paler than usual, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His gaze while working was as focused as ever, but with the smallest hint of being unfocused. And now that she mentally went over their conversation, his voice seemed scratchy.
"So," she drawled without tearing away her eyes from his face, "your own subordinates lacked faith in your capability to do your work properly. How embarrassing."
Signora had a feeling that Dottore was very close to suddenly dropping his work and doing something drastic; like biting her, or something equally rabid. She wasted no time in standing up and taking a few steps closer to him, surprising him enough to stop his words before they formed.
He eyed her suspiciously, which only made his sallow complexion more obvious in the dim lights, but turned back to the Delusion, continuing to tinker with it.
"Well, you do look quite awful, don't you?"
"Would you like to be kicked out as well, Signora?" The brat snapped back, but was overtaken by a nasty coughing fit that he uselessly tried hiding by turning away from her.
She merely raised an eyebrow at him, letting her expression do the talking for her.
Dottore scowled back, and gave her back the Delusion with little fanfare, pushing it into her hand. "It's fixed. Now you can go back and stop 'wasting your time', as you so eloquently said."
Yes, she had said that, hadn't she?
Still, Signora couldn't help but notice how young Dottore looked. Of course, she already knew that ever since she first saw him as a newly appointed Harbinger. Him being young did nothing to change the sheer madness within. If anything, it only served to make him more unsettling.
In that moment, however, he looked very far from the feared Second Fatui Harbinger. Instead, he looked no different from any other young man barely out of his teenage years, albeit tired and with a nasty temper from being dealt a terrible hand by the world they lived in. Why else would anyone's life lead them down the path of joining an organization like theirs?
"You know," she started slowly, "tea is quite effective at getting rid of persistent coughs."
As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished to take them back. Where had that come from? For once, it seemed like Dottore was on the same page as her, if his widened eyes and gobsmacked expression were any indication. Then, he narrowed his eyes again.
"I don't need tea."
"Right. So, am I to presume that you are completely healthy?" She leaned a bit towards him, arching an eyebrow skeptically.
"Of course," he scowled, though she was unfazed by his attempt at being menacing. Very few things could intimidate her at all, let alone her youngest colleague. "I am more than capable of assessing my own state. Now, if you're quite done mocking me, I do believe I've fixed your Delusion and that you can find the door by yourself. I need to continue my work."
Signora huffed disdainfully, but pocketed her Delusion and turned on her heel, leaving her stubborn coworker to do as he wished. She had been generous in offering advice, even if it was rejected. It was no skin off her back if he blew himself up out of negligence.
Unfortunately, she mused in annoyance in the safety of her quarters, some part of her conscience did not seem to agree. Staring darkly inside the cup of tea she held, her mind kept bringing her back to the paleness of his skin and his raspy cough.
Her soft spot for children could truly be irritating at times. Most of them were pure-hearted, joyful, and genuine. Free of corruption. None of that could be said for her fellow Harbingers, and especially not for Dottore, who was oh-so irritating.
And yet.
Her reflection stared back at her from the surface of the tea; with it came the reminder of her skin, scorched by the flames that burned her from the inside for so many years.
Years after which she was offered a place with the Fatui, and accepted.
She and her colleagues were cordial at best and cruel at worst, but they all knew not to pry into each other's pasts. It was implicitly known that to be recruited into such a role, they had each felt the sting of betrayal and hate towards the cruel world which only offered them pain. Dottore, as insufferable and dangerous as he may be, was no exception. And to be recruited by Pierro so early in his life…
Signora felt no compassion for him, but perhaps Rosalyne could allow herself to feel the smallest twinge of pity for the blue-haired man.
A full-bodied sigh escaped her, and she placed her cup back on the closest table, before standing up from her comfortable armchair and heading towards the cabinet closest to her quarters' window.
Late in the day, a Fatui subordinate left the Fair Lady's quarters, package in hand.
When the door was knocked on for what felt like the tenth time in a matter of hours, Zandik felt like there was a non-zero chance of him strangling whoever decided to pay him a visit. He put down the vial he was examining with more force than necessary and walked to the door. "What?"
He could instantly tell that the masked Fatui soldier standing in front of him wasn't one of his own subordinates, despite wearing the exact same uniform.
"Lord Dottore. I was ordered to bring this to you from Lady Signora."
The mere name intensified his headache, and he resisted the urge to close the door in the grunt's face.
"What could she possibly need to give me?"
"She did not say."
"Fine," he grabbed the box unceremoniously and dismissed the man.
Back at his desk, he stared at the plain box, feeling mocked by the sheer knowledge of who it came from.
Perhaps something had happened again with her Delusion, and the Fair Lady had decided that she was too good to bring it back to him personally? That couldn't be it, otherwise she would have brought it herself if only to mock him for doing a shoddy job. That sounded even more preposterous, since he knew the intricacies of Delusions inside and out. There was no way his repairs were anything less than perfect—
Tea.
She had sent him tea.
The box contained various metal tins, some containing intact or shredded dried leaves, others with flower heads. Zandik was certain that he even noticed roots in one of the tins.
As his perplexed eyes stuck to the dried plants, a single piece of paper fell out of the box. He caught the paper absentmindedly and started reading the elegant cursive that covered it.
Dottore,
I have taken the time to choose specific plants that would work best on getting rid of your cough, so don't you dare throw this box out.
Do not take this as pity or kindness. Your current state makes you look more unsightly than usual, and this reflects poorly on all of us, as your colleagues.
I trust that you're capable of doing something as simple as making tea. Consider it repayment for fixing my Delusion.
Signora.