( fatui harbingers x gn! reader )
─── 𝘿𝘼𝙈𝙉𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙀𝙉𝙏𝘼𝙉𝘾𝙀 𝙇𝘼𝙔 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝘾𝙆 𝙊𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙄𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙋𝙎. lies reign aplenty in the realm of the tsaritsa, yet your shred of truth may captivate those deprived of the light.
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C H A P T E R IX . ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗˢ ʳᵒᵃᵐ
【✧】
"IS SHE REALLY OKAY?" YOU ASKED FOR THE THOUSANDTH TIME, worry muddying your features like a gray, hazy storm cloud.
The man beside you hummed in amicable agreement, the soles of his shoes sharply rapping against the crystalline floor. "I reassure you, my dear, that your precious friend is alive and well. Snezhnaya's most adept doctors have been tirelessly working day and night to help her."
You nodded hesitantly, knowing that it was all he was willing to reveal. No details, simply mere comforting words and gentle encouragement. Those were the only things that had escaped past Pantalone's tightly sealed lips for the past few minutes as the two of you navigated the winding halls of the Tsaritsa's castle, en route to the room Inessa was supposedly staying in.
You hoped that it was just as lavish as yours -- she deserved the same level of comfort you were blessed to have received for the past few days.
Your stay at Zapolyarny Palace had been surprisingly nice thus far. You were given a clean bed and treated to a solid three meals a day, and despite being unable to leave the confines of your room, you received routine visitors from those more than willing to help alleviate your boredom.
Arlecchino was a frequent returner, often offering food and snacks and small talk ranging from the littlest of things, like an accidental rip in the formal wear all Harbingers were endowed with, to scraps of confidential info that you wondered if you should really know or not. You liked to rest your head in her lap whilst she relayed pieces of her day to you, her slender fingers running through your hair in a calming, repetitive motion.
Pantalone occasionally liked to come in, usually bearing a multitude of gifts he'd received from subordinates or bought especially for you. He seemed to enjoy watching you go through the things he gave you, seeing your eyes light up the moment you caught something that had struck your fancy. You'd already received quite a bit of high quality yarn from him, and you hoped to make good use of it once you went back home.
You hadn't seen Tartaglia since that incident. A small part of you was grateful; you weren't sure how you'd react around him, nor did you want to test it out. But at the same time, it felt like a chunk of your heart had been mercilessly ripped out and thrown into an abyss. Above everything, Childe was your friend, and living your life without his companionship was painful to imagine. You hoped that you could reconcile with him before you returned.
You stared at Pantalone's broad back, the emblem of the Fatui emblazoned in silver on the coat he wore burning into your eyes like a brand of loyalty. You missed home. Although you were comfortable living here, you sometimes felt like a pest, a replaceable object who had somehow caught the eye of a handful of powerful members of the Tsaritsa's high court. You were almost certain that you'd be discarded the moment you weren't deemed useful.
