Just wanted to do a Halloween special:3! But yes! Thank you for 1k reads on The first book!! I'm super excited to see the journey of this one! And this one might be a tad bit longer than my other ones but please enjoy! I know it's not really a Halloween special but I don't care! :3 anyways have fun!

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In the grand hall of Fontaine, the Halloween banquet was in full swing. The atmosphere buzzed with an eerie energy, the walls draped with crimson and violet tapestries, flickering candles casting long shadows across the tables laden with decadent food and drinks.

The chandelier above was adorned with fake cobwebs, and the distant sound of an organ hummed a haunting tune.

Furina, the host of this gathering, sat at the head of the table, her delicate fingers drumming against the arm of her ornate chair. Her costume, as always, was extravagant: she had chosen to embody the Lady of the Lake, her gown shimmering like liquid silver, adorned with blue gemstones that reflected the light, creating the illusion of rippling water. A delicate crown of pearls rested atop her head, and a flowing veil trailed behind her, giving her the appearance of a mystical figure from a forgotten legend. Her eyes gleamed with excitement as she glanced around the table at her fellow Archons.

Beside her sat Zhongli, the Geo Archon, dressed in the guise of an ancient general, his armor gleaming with the dull shine of gold. His costume was regal and understated, fitting his calm and composed nature, yet imbued with the authority of a figure who had seen centuries of conflict. The metallic plates clinked softly as he lifted a goblet, sipping it with a contented sigh.

To his right was Venti, the Anemo Archon, who had fully embraced the whimsy of the evening. He had chosen to dress as a mischievous fae, his green and white ensemble decorated with delicate wings and a crown of ivy. The bells on his wrists jingled as he reached for another slice of pie, his cheeks already flushed from the wine. His carefree laughter filled the air, and he kept trying to nudge the more serious Archons into lighthearted banter.

Raiden Ei, the Electro Archon, sat in regal silence, her eyes sharp beneath the mask of a fierce samurai warrior. Her outfit was a deep shade of violet, the armor etched with lightning patterns that shimmered with each movement. Her hand rested on the hilt of her katana, her demeanor unyielding even at this festive gathering. She was quiet, occasionally glancing over at her fellow Archons, her lips barely curved in amusement at Venti's antics.

Next to her was Nahida, the Dendro Archon, who had chosen a simpler, more innocent costume—she had dressed as a forest nymph. Her gown was made of woven leaves and flowers, her hair crowned with a delicate wreath of glowing white blossoms. She smiled warmly, her eyes full of curiosity and wonder as she observed the others, though there was a slight melancholy in her gaze, perhaps from remembering the past.

And then there was Mavuika, the Pyro Archon, dressed in fiery reds and golds, her costume a blazing representation of her domain. She had come as a Phoenix, her feathers seeming to glow with an internal flame, her fiery eyes sharp and full of passion. She laughed boisterously, clinking her glass with Venti's and chatting animatedly with Zhongli, who was recounting an old tale of Liyue.

But the final seat at the table drew the most attention. Tsaritsa, the Cryo Archon, had arrived in an icy blue gown, her costume representing the Snow Queen, a figure both elegant and chilling. Her hair was adorned with frost-tipped crystals, and a cold aura seemed to emanate from her as she sat at the far end of the table. Beside her, uninvited but undeniably present, stood The Knave.

The Knave had not donned an elaborate costume like the others, yet her presence was enough to cause a stir. She wore her usual black and red uniform, the colors stark against the festive backdrop, her mask covering half her face, making her sharp gaze all the more menacing. The Knave of the Fatui was an unusual guest at a gathering of Archons, but she was never far from the Tsaritsa's side. Tonight, she lingered in the background, her eyes scanning the room, observing the interactions with a calculating gaze.

Furina, glancing toward the Cryo Archon and her guest, couldn't help but raise a brow. "Really, Tsaritsa," she said, her voice dripping with theatrical flair. "Bringing your loyal hound to such a refined event? It hardly seems fitting for the occasion."

Tsaritsa, her icy expression unmoved, met Furina's gaze with cold indifference. "The Knave is here at my behest. I trust you'll find her presence... illuminating."

Arlecchino, silent and still as a shadow, gave no response, though her lips twitched into the barest hint of a smile. She held her polearm, glimmering faintly in the candlelight, a subtle reminder of her deadliness even in such peaceful surroundings.

Venti, sensing the tension, quickly leaned forward. "Now, now, let's not start any drama tonight! This is a celebration, right? A night of fun!" He waved his hands in the air, making the bells on his sleeves jingle, and reached for another drink, trying to diffuse the situation.

Zhongli, ever the diplomat, nodded in agreement. "Indeed. Tonight is a rare occasion for us all to gather. Let us not waste it on hostilities."

Furina, always eager for the spotlight, gave a dramatic sigh, but allowed the matter to drop. She leaned back in her chair, taking a sip from her goblet, her eyes still flicking toward Arlecchino with suspicion.

The evening continued with conversation flowing around the table, though there was an undercurrent of unease. The Fatui were never far from the minds of the Archons, and the presence of Arlecchino, even in such a casual setting, served as a reminder of the tensions that simmered just beneath the surface.

As the meal progressed, plates were cleared, and dessert was served—lavish cakes and pastries adorned with cobweb designs and skull motifs, all in keeping with the Halloween theme. The air was filled with the sweet scent of sugar and spices, and for a moment, even the most somber Archons seemed to relax.

Raiden Ei, who had been quiet for most of the night, finally spoke, her voice low but commanding. "The Fatui's ambitions... they have always concerned me. Yet tonight, you bring one of their most dangerous members to our table."

Tsaritsa met her gaze with calm indifference. "The Knave is no more dangerous than any of us gathered here."

Arlecchino, for her part, remained silent, though her fingers drummed lightly on the polearm resting by her side. Her eyes darted toward Furina, catching a brief flash of something—perhaps a memory of their shared history, their intertwined fates—but it was quickly replaced with her usual coldness.

The banquet hall, once filled with lighthearted banter and laughter, seemed to shift in tone. The weight of the past and the uncertain future hung heavy over the table.

...................

The grand hall of Fontaine's palace was alive with revelry as the Halloween banquet continued, the other six Archons seated around the massive, lavishly adorned table. Laughter echoed through the candlelit room, mingling with the clinking of silverware and the rich, ambient sounds of Fontaine's finest musicians. Outside, the city glittered under the night sky, but inside the palace, the atmosphere was as vibrant and intoxicating as the festivities demanded.

Furina, in her deep blue gown adorned with shimmering gems that caught the light like droplets of water, sat at the head of the table. Her mask, an elaborate piece fashioned like a sea creature, glittered with an ethereal glow. Yet, behind her poised exterior, a sense of unease gnawed at her. The night should have been perfect—a celebration among equals, a show of strength, and unity. But all Furina could feel was the pressure building inside her chest, a weight far heavier than the ornate mantle of Fontaine's ruler.

As the conversation among the Archons swirled around her, Furina's mind wandered, distracted by the secrets she kept locked away and the person who had invaded her thoughts ever since that fateful night. With each laugh and cheer from her fellow Archons, the distance between her and her own reality seemed to grow wider.

After some time, unable to stand it any longer, Furina slowly pushed her chair back, the legs scraping softly against the marble floor. The room stilled for a brief second, as if everyone had momentarily noticed her movement. With a polite but restrained smile, Furina offered a quiet apology.

"Excuse me, my dear Archons," she said softly, her voice laced with formality. "I need a moment."

Her gown, flowing like liquid starlight, shimmered as she moved gracefully from the table, her steps deliberate and measured as she left the hall. Her face, still hidden beneath her mask, showed no sign of distress, but inside, her thoughts raced.

She glided down the long, winding corridors of the palace, each step echoing off the walls. The grand chandeliers hanging overhead cast long, flickering shadows along the stone, the dim light barely reaching the far corners. The further she walked, the quieter it became, until the only sound was the soft swish of her gown and her hurried, shallow breathing.

But she wasn't alone for long.

Out of the shadows, a familiar presence emerged—silent, watchful. Furina's heart skipped a beat, and her pulse quickened as she felt Arlecchino's predatory gaze on her back. The Knave always had a way of following her, of knowing her movements before she made them. Furina slowed her pace but didn't turn around until she felt the Knave's presence mere steps away.

"Leaving your own banquet so soon?" Arlecchino's voice broke the silence, sharp yet calm. Her words, though soft, carried an edge of teasing. She stepped forward, her polished black and gold heels clicking softly against the floor, her dark, imposing figure framed by the dim candlelight. The red accents on her outfit glowed ominously, reflecting her position within the Fatui's ranks.

Furina stopped, her hands trembling slightly as she gripped the fabric of her gown, trying to steady herself. She turned slowly to face Arlecchino, her lips parting in a soft sigh.

"You followed me," Furina stated, her voice lacking the usual sharpness. Her eyes searched Arlecchino's face, trying to find some semblance of understanding.

Arlecchino's expression remained unreadable, as it often did. She didn't deny the accusation, nor did she explain herself. Instead, she stepped closer, closing the distance between them until she stood just inches away. Her gloved fingers brushed against the ornate fabric of Furina's sleeve, a touch so subtle yet electric.

"I always follow," Arlecchino said, her voice lowering. "You seem distracted tonight, Furina. I wonder why that is."

Furina's breath caught in her throat. She could feel the intensity of Arlecchino's gaze even through her mask, could sense the quiet force of the Knave's presence. It was intoxicating—overwhelming. Her mind screamed at her to keep her distance, to remember who Arlecchino was, what she represented. But her body betrayed her, drawn toward the woman standing before her.

Without thinking, Furina reached up and grasped Arlecchino's collar, pulling her into a fierce, almost desperate kiss. The action shocked them both—Furina had never been the one to initiate, had never been the one to take control. But the weight of everything—the masquerade, the secrets, the lies—it all crashed down on her at once, and in that moment, she needed something real.

Arlecchino responded instantly, her arms wrapping tightly around Furina's waist, pulling her closer. The kiss was heated, demanding, a collision of pent-up emotions and unspoken desires. Furina's hands trembled as she clung to Arlecchino's coat, her fingers digging into the heavy fabric as if anchoring herself to something tangible.

When they finally broke apart, their breaths mingling in the cool air, Furina's eyes fluttered closed as she pressed her forehead against Arlecchino's chest. She could feel the steady rhythm of the Knave's heartbeat beneath her clothing , a strange contrast to the storm raging inside her own mind.

"This can't continue," Furina whispered, her voice barely audible. "Not like this. Not in secret."

Arlecchino's grip on her waist tightened. "You say that every time."

Furina shook her head, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She hated how weak she felt in Arlecchino's presence, how powerless. "I mean it this time. We can't... I can't keep doing this. You're The Knave, loyal to the Tsaritsa. I'm... the Archon of Fontaine. If anyone finds out—"

"Let them find out." Arlecchino's voice was firm, unbothered. Her gloved thumb brushed against Furina's cheek, a gesture both tender and possessive. "I don't care."

Furina pulled away from her, her heart racing. "But I do." Her voice broke slightly, betraying the internal war she was fighting. "You don't understand. This—this isn't just about us. My people... your children... they wouldn't accept this. They wouldn't accept us."

Arlecchino's eyes narrowed slightly, but her expression remained calm. She didn't respond immediately, didn't try to convince Furina otherwise. Instead, she tilted her head, studying Furina in silence.

"And what do you want, Furina?" she asked quietly, her voice almost gentle. "Forget about the people, about the politics. What do you want?"

Furina's breath hitched. For a moment, she couldn't speak. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, of duty and desire. What did she want? She didn't know anymore. Or perhaps she did, but admitting it would only make everything worse.

"I want..." she started, but the words died on her lips. She stepped back, shaking her head as if trying to clear her thoughts. "It doesn't matter. I have to go."

Before Arlecchino could respond, Furina turned and walked away, her steps hurried and uneven. She didn't look back, though she could feel the weight of Arlecchino's gaze on her back, burning into her like a brand.

As she disappeared into the shadows of the palace, Arlecchino remained where she stood, her expression unreadable. The silence stretched on, heavy and oppressive, but the Knave didn't move. She knew this wasn't over.

It was never over with them.

..................

Furina's return to the banquet hall was marked by a deliberate calm in her stride, though her pulse still raced from the encounter with Arlecchino. Her gown, an intricate mix of flowing deep blues and silvers that seemed to ripple like water, brushed lightly against the marble floor as she moved. Each step felt heavier than the last, her heels tapping rhythmically as she tried to regain her composure. The soft hum of conversation around the table resumed as if nothing had changed, though the weight of her private turmoil hung like a shadow over her.

She took her seat, smoothing the fabric of her gown as she delicately reached for her glass of wine. The faint tremor in her hand betrayed her otherwise controlled demeanor. Furina raised the glass to her lips, taking a slow sip, her eyes fixed on the ornate centerpiece in front of her. She could feel the eyes of the other Archons glancing her way, particularly Zhongli's steady, observant gaze from across the table.

He was far too perceptive, but Furina kept her focus elsewhere, unwilling to let anyone see her cracks. Mavuika had left earlier due to a matter that had come up in Natland regarding the abyss and damaged ley lines.

The Knave had returned to the banquet hall too, standing behind the Cryo Archon, her posture rigid yet unassuming. The Knave's attire—a sharp, tailored black coat with crimson accents—made her blend into the background of the hall's dim lighting, though her presence was anything but ignorable. She stood still, hands clasped behind her back, her stance mirroring the disciplined stillness of a predator lying in wait. Furina knew without looking that Arlecchino's gaze lingered on her, and it made her skin prickle, the weight of their unresolved exchange still hanging between them.

The chatter of the other Archons was a soft murmur in the background, but Furina barely registered it, her mind focused on steadying herself. She glanced around the table, observing Venti's languid posture as he leaned back, swirling his wine with a carefree grin. He was the first to break the growing silence.

"Well," Venti announced, standing with a stretch that made his noisy costume rustle softly, "I think it's time to bid the night adieu. The wind is calling me to rest."

With that, he gave a cheeky bow, causing the other Archons to follow suit. Ei rose gracefully, nodding to the others in her usual quiet, measured manner before gliding out of the hall, her flowing garments brushing softly against the floor. Zhongli stood as well, offering a respectful bow before departing with his usual dignified grace. The Cryo Archon left in silence, though her gaze briefly passed between Furina and Arlecchino, an unreadable look flashing in her icy eyes.

As the room emptied, Furina lingered a moment longer, her hands tightening slightly on the armrests of her chair. She took a deep breath, trying to shake the tension that seemed to coil around her chest. When she finally stood, her movements were slow and deliberate. The hall felt colder now, quieter, the echo of her footsteps louder against the empty walls. She headed toward her chambers, the soft rustling of her gown the only sound accompanying her down the long, empty corridor.

But the air shifted behind her. Furina's heart skipped, the familiar presence of Arlecchino trailing her like a shadow. She didn't have to look back to know it was her. The weight of the Knave's footsteps was deliberate yet quiet, and Furina could almost feel the intensity of Arlecchino's gaze burning into her back.

Furina's fingers curled around the ornate handle of her chamber door when she finally turned, her breath catching in her throat. Arlecchino stood a few paces behind her, her form bathed in the dim glow of the hallway lanterns. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes were dark, sharp as ever, waiting.

"We can't keep doing this," Furina whispered, her voice trembling slightly as she met Arlecchino's gaze. Her fingers tightened on the door handle as if it could anchor her in place.

Arlecchino took a step forward, her movements calculated, deliberate, as though weighing each one. The soft click of her heels echoed in the stillness, the sound a stark contrast to the quiet tension hanging between them. She didn't speak immediately, but the weight of her silence was deafening.

When she finally spoke, her voice was low, but the conviction behind it cut through the air. "And yet, you don't want it to end," Arlecchino said, her eyes never leaving Furina's face. "Neither do I."

Furina's heart pounded in her chest, her resolve wavering under the intensity of Arlecchino's words. She wanted to step back, to break the moment, but she found herself frozen, trapped by the truth in Arlecchino's voice. The thought of ending this—whatever this was—felt like severing a part of herself. But she knew the danger, the precarious balance they stood on.

"I'm the Archon of Fontaine," Furina replied softly, though the strength in her voice wavered. Her title felt heavy on her tongue, the responsibility weighing on her shoulders. "This isn't just about us."

Arlecchino's eyes darkened slightly, though her face remained calm. She closed the distance between them with a few more measured steps until she stood just inches away from Furina. Her gloved hand reached out, her fingers brushing against Furina's chin, tilting her head up ever so slightly. Furina's breath hitched at the touch, the connection sending a shock of warmth through her body.

"It's always been more than just us," Arlecchino murmured, her thumb lightly grazing Furina's cheek. The touch was both tender and commanding, a reminder of the power Arlecchino held in every movement.

For a brief moment, Furina allowed herself to lean into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut as the tension between them crackled in the air. Her pulse quickened, and for a fleeting second, she let herself forget the world outside of this moment.

But when she opened her eyes again, the reality of their situation came crashing back. With a shaky breath, Furina stepped back, breaking the contact. Her heart ached, the space between them suddenly feeling too wide and yet too necessary.

"We can't," she whispered, though the words felt weak, like a hollow attempt to convince herself more than Arlecchino.

Arlecchino's expression didn't change, but the slight narrowing of her eyes betrayed a flicker of frustration. She remained silent for a moment, her gaze locked on Furina, before she took a step back, retreating into the shadows of the hallway.

"You're running from what you want," Arlecchino said, her voice quiet, the words hanging in the air like a challenge.

Without waiting for a response, she turned and walked away, her figure disappearing into the darkness of the corridor. The soft click of her boots faded into the distance, leaving Furina alone once more, her heart pounding in her chest. She stood frozen in place, the cool air of the hallway brushing against her skin, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

Furina's hands shook slightly as she reached for the door to her chambers, the lingering warmth of Arlecchino's touch still burning against her skin. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click, but the silence that followed was deafening.

Arlecchino had disappeared into the darkness of the hallway, her footsteps echoing faintly before the sound faded completely. But Furina knew. She felt it in her bones, the way the air still seemed to hum with tension. She closed the door to her chambers, leaning against it for support as her chest heaved with a weight she couldn't shake. The room was silent, dimly lit by the soft glow of a few candles scattered across the tabletops, casting shadows that flickered and danced against the walls.

She had told Arlecchino they couldn't continue, that this was wrong—dangerous. And yet, even now, as she stood alone in the quiet of her room, Furina felt the tug deep inside her, a yearning that made her throat tight and her heart race. Her fingers grazed the spot on her cheek where Arlecchino had touched her, the phantom sensation still lingering. She swallowed hard, eyes closing as she tried to compose herself.

But then, there was a soft sound—so quiet, so subtle that anyone else might not have noticed. A barely perceptible shift in the air behind her, the faintest creak of the door. Furina's breath caught in her throat, her body tensing instinctively as she turned her head ever so slightly.

The door hadn't been fully closed.

Furina's heart raced as she slowly straightened, her eyes flickering to the shadow that had reappeared at the entrance. Arlecchino stood there, her form half-cast in darkness, the low candlelight highlighting the sharp lines of her features, her eyes unreadable, yet intense. Furina's breath hitched, and for a moment, neither of them moved. The silence stretched between them like a taut string, ready to snap at any moment.

Arlecchino stepped forward, her movements slow, calculated, and deliberate as always. Her heels barely made a sound against the floor, but the air seemed to shift with every step she took, heavy with tension. Furina's pulse quickened, her body frozen as Arlecchino approached, the space between them shrinking with each measured stride.

There was no hesitation when Arlecchino reached her. Her black stained hand came up, cupping Furina's cheek once again, her thumb brushing gently across her skin, just as it had moments ago in the hallway. But this time, the touch was different—softer, yet more demanding in its quietness. Furina's breath stuttered, her heart pounding in her chest, but she didn't pull away. She couldn't.

"I told you," Arlecchino whispered, her voice low and steady, her lips hovering just inches away from Furina's. "You don't want this to end."

Furina's eyelids fluttered, her mind screaming at her to stop, to pull away, but her body betrayed her. She leaned into the touch, her hand instinctively reaching up to grasp Arlecchino's wrist, holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping her grounded in the swirling storm of her emotions. Her breath trembled, and when she finally opened her mouth to speak, no words came out.

Before Furina could process what was happening, Arlecchino closed the remaining distance between them. Her lips met Furina's in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and filled with the weight of everything left unsaid between them. It wasn't soft, or sweet—it was raw, desperate, like a dam had finally burst and all the emotions they had been holding back came crashing through.

Furina gasped softly against Arlecchino's mouth, her hand gripping tighter around her wrist as the kiss deepened. She felt the warmth of Arlecchino's body pressing against hers, the cool leather of her gloves grazing her skin as Arlecchino's free hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer. Furina's knees weakened under the intensity of the kiss, but Arlecchino held her steady, her grip firm yet gentle.

Time seemed to blur around them, the world outside fading into nothingness as they kissed. Furina's mind spun, every thought drowned out by the heat of Arlecchino's touch, the way her lips moved against hers with such precision and purpose. It felt like everything she had tried to bury—the confusion, the longing, the fear—was being laid bare in this moment, and for the first time, Furina couldn't bring herself to run from it.

But as the kiss lingered, a small part of Furina's mind screamed at her to stop, to pull away before they crossed a line they couldn't uncross. She broke the kiss, breathless, her chest heaving as she stepped back just enough to create a sliver of space between them. Her hand still clutched at Arlecchino's wrist, her grip tight, as if letting go would mean losing control completely.

"We can't keep doing this," Furina whispered again, though her voice was weak, shaky with the weight of her own conflicted emotions. Her eyes were wide, searching Arlecchino's face for something—an answer, a solution, anything to make this easier.

But Arlecchino didn't relent. Her dark eyes bore into Furina's, her expression unreadable but intense, her hand still resting against Furina's cheek.

"And yet, here we are," Arlecchino murmured, her voice soft but firm, the words sinking deep into the pit of Furina's stomach. "You don't want this to end, Furina. Neither do I."

Furina's breath stopped , her heart aching as she struggled to find the words to respond. She knew Arlecchino was right, but the weight of her responsibilities, her title, loomed over her like a dark cloud. How could they continue this? What would it mean for Fontaine, for everything Furina had worked to protect?

But at that moment, with Arlecchino standing so close, her warmth seeping into Furina's skin, the answers seemed impossible to grasp.

Before Furina could speak again, Arlecchino leaned in, her lips brushing against Furina's ear as she whispered, "You don't have to decide tonight."

Furina shivered, the words sending a ripple of heat through her body. She knew this was dangerous, that they were playing with fire, but as Arlecchino's lips found hers again in a soft, lingering kiss, Furina let herself fall into the moment. Just for tonight, she allowed herself to forget the rest of the world.

..........

The air in Furina's chambers felt heavy, thick with the weight of unspoken desires and unresolved tension. As Arlecchino's lips lingered on hers, Furina's heart pounded in her chest, the slow, deliberate kiss unraveling something deep inside her. Her fingers tightened around Arlecchino's wrist, pulling her closer, as though the connection between them was the only thing keeping her anchored to reality.

The soft candlelight flickered, casting shadows that danced across the walls, but neither of them seemed to notice. Furina's mind spun in a whirlwind of emotions—fear, desire, longing, all blending into one overwhelming sensation that left her breathless. Arlecchino's hand moved from Furina's cheek to the small of her back, firm and unyielding, pulling her body flush against her own.

Furina gasped softly against Arlecchino's lips, feeling the heat of their closeness seep through her. Every touch, every movement was charged with intensity, and it felt like the world outside had ceased to exist. All that mattered was the slow burn of the moment, the way Arlecchino's hands roamed over her body, precise and intentional.

Their kiss deepened, no longer tentative, but hungry and raw. Furina's hands, trembling at first, found their way to Arlecchino's shoulders, clinging as though she was afraid of losing this connection. The control Furina was so used to wielding as the Hydro Archon seemed to slip from her grasp, leaving her vulnerable and exposed. But Arlecchino, ever composed, guided her, each movement deliberate, calculated.

The tension between them, which had simmered for so long, now reached a boiling point. With a soft groan, Furina broke the kiss, her breath ragged as she stared up at Arlecchino. Her lips were swollen, her chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. The flicker of doubt crossed her mind once more, but the way Arlecchino looked at her—steady, unwavering—made the doubts seem distant.

Neither of them spoke, but the silence was not uncomfortable. It was loaded with meaning, every glance, every touch conveying what words could not. Furina reached up, her fingers brushing against Arlecchino's jawline, tracing the sharp curve before letting her hand fall to the leather of Arlecchino's coat.

Slowly, without a word, Arlecchino began to unfasten the coat, her movements slow, deliberate. Furina watched, her breath catching as each layer came undone, revealing the lean muscles beneath. There was something intoxicating about the way Arlecchino moved, controlled but brimming with unspoken intensity, a balance between power and restraint.

As the last of the leather fell away, Arlecchino stepped forward, closing the small distance between them once more. Her fingers found the fabric of Furina's gown, brushing against it lightly before beginning to undo the delicate fastenings. Every touch felt electric, sending a shiver down Furina's spine as Arlecchino's fingers grazed her skin.

Furina's heart raced, a mix of anticipation and vulnerability flooding her senses. She wasn't used to feeling this exposed, this vulnerable, but something about the way Arlecchino handled her—gentle but firm—made her trust fall into the moment.

The gown slipped from her shoulders, pooling softly at her feet. The cool air of the room contrasted sharply with the heat between them, making Furina shiver. But before she could move, Arlecchino's arms were around her, pulling her into a slow, deep kiss that left her head spinning. "Arlecchino.." Furina spoke nearly a whisper against the taller woman's slips. The knave chuckled slightly,a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

The rest of the night was a blur of sensation. Every touch, every kiss felt like fire, burning through the carefully constructed walls Furina had built around herself. Arlecchino was patient, deliberate in the way she moved, as though she had all the time in the world to explore every inch of Furina's body. And Furina, for the first time in a long time, let herself be vulnerable, letting down the mask of the Hydro Archon, if only for a few hours.

As they finally came together, the tension that had simmered between them for so long broke like a wave, crashing over them both with the force of all the emotions they had kept buried. The room was filled with the sound of their breathing, their bodies entwined as they gave in to the moment completely.

When the last of the candles had burned down, leaving the room in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window, Furina lay in Arlecchino's arms, her head resting against her chest. Her breathing had slowed, her body exhausted, but her mind was still racing. The weight of what had just happened hung heavy in the air, but for now, neither of them spoke.

Furina's fingers traced lazy patterns on Arlecchino's skin, her mind trying to make sense of the chaos in her heart. She had told herself that they couldn't continue this—that it was too dangerous, too complicated. But lying here, wrapped in Arlecchino's arms, everything seemed so simple, so right.

Eventually, Furina broke the silence, her voice soft but tinged with uncertainty. "What now?"

Arlecchino didn't answer right away. Instead, she tightened her hold on Furina, her thumb gently stroking the back of Furina's hand as they lay in the quiet.

"We'll figure it out," Arlecchino finally said, her voice calm and steady, as if she had no doubt that they would. "Together."

Furina closed her eyes, allowing herself, for the first time in a long while, to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could. As the moon of the Halloween night began to wither away, Furina finally felt a sense of hope..as if there was a possibility that an Archon and a Harbinger could be..

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Wrote  this on my way to school </3.. in not too happy with it but yk ..BUT YEA! Yea guys sorry for the late updates but the real next part of this will come soon I promise I'm just editing it.. love yall little lake Lillie's<3!

-Lady Furina De Fontaine