Death. A normal part of life, of mortality. Arlecchino was no stranger to death, as it happened all around her. Crucabena, Signora, the children that she herself raised and trained to be Fatui Agents. And Clervie. Oh, Clervie. How Arlecchino wished she protected Clervie better. Most nights, she'd hold you like she wished she'd held Clervie.

Arlecchino would whisper to you as you slept, pressing the occasional kiss onto your head, worrying that you'd die someday in her arms like Clervie did. Picturing and dreading the thought, imagining the thought of light slipping from your eyes like sands slipping through an hourglass, your skin becoming cold like the oceans of Fontaine, the nation that she moved most of her assets to to be with you.

"My angel," she'd always begin, holding you like a gambler holds onto their chips. "I will grant you anything you ever ask for. Anything you want." Of course, Arlecchino had plenty funds, but still finite. But she'd never pass up the opportunity to spoil you, the one she loved so dearly. Oh how she longed for your face... it made her speed up her duties as the Fourth Harbinger, slaughter her adversaries faster. How could she pass up the opportunity to be so close to someone once again?

Like clockwork, Arlecchino arrived home and gently brushed her fingers over the framed photo of you with the children. "It will never happen again. I hold you close to protect you." She murmured, almost to herself as she dawdled into your shared bedroom, seeing your relaxed form as you read. “Darling. It’s a wonderful evening, why not spend it outside?” And so you did.

The streets of Fontaine were calm, as most days. But it didn’t stop Arlecchino from eyeing everyone, like they’d hunt you down and you’d end up just like Clervie. Archons, she’d snap if she lost someone else. “And how was your day, my love?” Arlecchino said as her grip unconsciously tightened on your hand. “Good, bad…?” She trailed off and turned to you, gazing into those eyes she’d spent too many night looking into.