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justaghostingon · 29 days

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Blessed are the Unbelievers

A small fic on Arlecchino, Furina, and the nature of faith before 4.6 smashes all my theories to bits.

link to AO3 version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55371247

Even before she donned a mask to kill a god, Arlecchino had never believed in the Archons. How could she? When their goddess danced and sang without a care in the world, while Arlecchino fought the pain of her curse every day. When the uncaring judge over all did nothing to help the orphans before Mother found them?

Who could believe in a being that did not believe in them?

Clervie did though.

She'd always be the first to grab the newspapers plastered with their goddess's face all over them, smiling mismatched eyes unseeing of the little girl's devotion. Clervie would poor over the stories, the scandals of Furina's tantrums, the drama of her trials, but most of all she loved the reviews of performances staring there beloved archon.

She would read these articles out loud to Arlecchino, narrating the quotes of their goddess wowing the stage once again with the kind of breathless idolization that only children were capable of.

Arlecchino had listened, she always listened when Clervie talked, but she had never understood it.

"Shouldn't you be more focused on the Cyro Archon?" She had asked her once. "She's the one who we'll serve. Who mother Worships."

"We're Fontainian too." Clervie had laughed at that. "Besides," she added with a wink. "Fontaine gave me you. Why wouldn't I be grateful?"

Arlecchino had blushed at that, and the topic had been dropped.

In the end, it hadn't mattered which goddess Clervie loved most. Neither the hydro nor the cyro archon had stepped in to save her from her fate at Arlecchino's own hands.

Arlecchino knew she hated them all at that moment. What good were gods who could not even save a true believer? Nothing but pretty ornamentation for the sky. A useless trinket easily broken and replaced. They were not worth any of her faith.

How ironic was it then, that the nonbeliever would meet them both.

The cyro archon was everything a goddess should be. Beautiful in way of ice statues who have been labored over for days to glitter just right in the winter sun. Yet as was the way of ice statues, standing to close, even touching them could result in damage. She had to be kept at a distance to maintain her true perfection.

Perhaps if Arlecchino had met her earlier, before Clervie's blood stain her hands so badly that not even Mother's own blood could wash it out, she would have worshiped her. She would have been fooled by the glistening ice, the cold distance. But now with the world's truth at her fingertips, she only saw the true fragility hidden behind. A being of entirely too much power who could shatter far too easily and take them all with her.

She was not one Arlecchino could put her trust in. But she did have the support Arlecchino and her brother's and sister's and soon to be children would need. For their sake Arlecchino could fain the motions of loyalty to this statue of a goddess. But she would not worship her, not now and not ever.

In contrast to the fragile Ice, the trembling girl beneath Arlecchino's finger tips was all to human. Large blue missmatched eyes welled with tears as she begged for her life. She knelt before Arlecchino. White gloves stained with the dirt of the street folded as if in prayer. A mockery of her own believers. What kind of god would so willingly bow her pride?

And yet...Arlecchino felt the press of the warm flesh beneath her fingertips, digging into the place were the supposed god's gnosis should rest. But there was nothing but the irregular beat of a very human heart. Something was off. Arlecchino ran her eyes over the supposed goddess's face. The desperation in her eyes, the trail of snot in her nose. So far from what a goddess was supposed to be.

She wasn't one. The realization filled Arlecchino all at once. This girl, this Furina, was no god. No archon. What was she then? To last so long? She must be cursed. Just like Arlecchino.

How strange, to meet one like herself in the form of the very goddess she despised.

Furina told no one of their midnight rondevous. Not even her precious judge, or else why would Arlecchino be allowed to visit? Arlecchino might even harbor hope that she didn't recognize her maskless under the morning sun, except for the ever present underline of fear in the fake goddess's eyes in their every interaction, a party of tea and cakes more tense than all the battlefield's Arlecchino had seen combined.

From the outside, no doubt, they looked the picture of grace. Certainly Clervie would have given her left hand to sit were Arlecchino was, having tea with her hero. Would it hurt, to see one you had worshiped for the true, pathetic actor they are? Arlecchino was glad Clervie had never had the opportunity now, to look to close and see the cracks in the faker's facade. Let her rest in peace, one childhood dream still intact.

It was this sentimental whim that kept her from revealing the whole truth to her children. Only Lyney and Lynette seemed to pick up on the front their so called goddess was putting forward. But for some reason it only seemed to fuel their belief that she was truly an archon worth worshiping. As one performer to another.

Arlecchino would be lying if she said this did not irk her. Especially when Furina took advantage of that faith to place Lyney on trial. Lyney would not fully grasp her attack for what it really was. No doubt a calculated move to strike back at Arlecchino where she was weakest. It didn't work of course, Arlecchino's children would never let her down like that, but she still made time to thank the mysterious traveler who had stepped in to aid her distressed son.

Liars however, always find their lies catching up to them. For Furina, it was Poisson's fate that finally trapped her in a cage. What happened next was almost to fast to keep up with. The trial of the fake goddess, the revelations of the oceanids, the fulfillment of the prophecy, the death of the Hydro archon, the rise of the Hydro Sovereign, and when the water's receded, the ever-looming question of how to move forward after doomsday.

Exactly what happened to stop the prophecy, the role of the Hydro archon and Furina were not exactly public knowledge. Although rumors did spread far and wide. But Arlecchino was nothing if not personable, and Neuvilette could be surprisingly talkative if his righteous anger was awakened.

He did not tell her all, but from what he did say she was able to figure out the rest. Suffice to say, Furina was still under his protection. A hero in his eyes.

It was funny, how only in the revelation of the gulf between them, had Arlecchino realized how similar she had thought them.

Furina and Arlecchino, both cursed humans playing roles they seemed so unfit for. It really shouldn't surprise Arlecchino how much she had projected onto the other. She had thought them of the same make, calculating beings who presented a cordial front, willing to do anything to preserve the illusion of control they carried. Two beings who did not fit into this world but dug their own way into it, reminded every day by the curses on their bodies. For all she had scoffed at Furina, she had always thought her dedication to the role a sign of her skill. An opponent equal to Arlecchino, if not in strength, then in cunning.

But Furina was not like Arlecchino at all. Cursed though she may be, cunning though she was, this actress on the eternal stage. She was still separated by one key factor that left Arlecchino in the dust.

Furina de Fontaine, humanity of the Hydro Archon Focalors was a creature born of love. Cursed by it, fueled by it, she represented not the audacity of humanity like Arlecchino had thought, but the fullness of divine devotion, so strong it would weather 500 years of torment and still stand strong.

And it hurt, somewhere deep in Arlecchino's soul, to know the truth. To know Clervie in all her childhood innocence had somehow seen Furina clearer than Arlecchino's own tainted heart ever could.

How ironic was it that she, Arlecchino, the ultimate unbeliever, to believe so strongly in the unfaithfulness of gods it became a faith in and of itself. And how fitting, that such a faithless faith would meet the fate of all believers in this twisted world, and shatter before the pain of revelation.

#genshin impact #arlecchino #the knave #arlecchino genshin #clervie #furina #introspective fic #trigger warning: faith #religious trauma #before 4.6 #theories #I made my theories into a fic

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