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my dear, you should be grateful

Summary:

There’s more than one reason Lumine feels guilty about Columbina’s death.

Notes:

Oops… poor Lumine.

Not based off Butcher Vanity but it fits pretty well here!

Work Text:

"Columbina," she gasped, voice hoarse. Her vision was blurry; the blast of light had blinded her and it was only slowly returning to normal.

 

She staggered, head pounding, barely keeping hold of her sword. Tried to find her friend, somewhere out there on the battlefield. Tripped.

 

It was Sandrone. Her lifeless body made no sound; Lumine knew if there had been any spark within, she would have gotten yelled at. Some liquid—oil or blood, she couldn't tell—dripped from the places where she had been impaled.

 

"Sandrone," she rasped. "Columbina…"

 

"How pitiful," said the Doctor. "All that effort… you even tricked me to keep your formula running. Clever, I admit. And still, what have you gotten?"

 

"Got my friend," she forced out, crawling toward the other body slumped on the ground. "Got to beat you."

 

She reached Columbina, who was curled up, protecting her side. Lumine turned her over, hauled her friend's head and shoulders onto her legs. It was wet. She was bleeding out.

 

Desperate, Lumine ripped up some of her skirt. She balled it up and shoved it inside the wound. Columbina was crying. Lumine felt a little guilty that she was hurting her. But at least she was still alive.

 

"Stay calm," she said. "We'll get him. We'll get you out of here."

 

Columbina only whimpered, hands pressed to her side where the fabric was slowly turning pink.

 

"Good. Good. Keep that in there," she whispered. "I got to… beat him."

 

Lumine let her onto the ground carefully, making sure she didn't hit her head. Then she got back on her feet, once again. She had to beat Dottore here and now. There was no other option. The world was spinning, and she lurched, but forced herself to stay up. She could collapse later.

 

"Tsk, tsk," mocked the Doctor. "You retrieved her, and she dies anyway? How pathetic."

 

"Not dead…" Lumine said.

 

"Well, not yet. Don't worry. We'll get there."

 

The muscles in her arms and legs were tight and stiff. Everything was throbbing. But still, she lifted her sword against him.

 

Ignoring his taunting, she took a step forward. And another, and another, until she was close enough. She swung, still able to put significant power into her strikes despite her weakness. She swung again, and again, but he dodged everything she sent at him.

 

"Oh dear," he said, shaking his head mockingly. "Let's end this, shall we?"

 

She was mid swing when the world went white again.

 

 

Lumine woke up.

 

Where was she?

 

She laid there for a minute. Then it all came flooding back. The battle. The loss. Although she still had no idea where she was.

 

She was facedown, in a bed. Not a very comfortable one. She was glad she wasn't staring into the harsh lighting.

 

It smelled like medicine and cleaner. Sharp, harsh, and artificial.

 

Everything was so much heavier than usual. Everything hurt. Her muscles ached. Her head felt like it was about to burst open. Her back was throbbing. She reached behind to find what was hurting and froze when her hand touched… something. It was not her back.

 

Panicked, she tried to get up out of the bed. That was when she noticed it: an awareness that hadn't been there before. She could feel whatever it was on her back. Move it—

 

She swore as the thing jerked backward, hitting the wall with a thud. It hurt. Whatever was now attached to her, she could feel.

 

Wasn't that a comforting thought. It was Dottore, no doubt. How long had she been out? What had he done to her?

 

Her sense of unease grew. Where was she? Where was he? In all her experience with him he had never failed to show up to gloat.

 

"Fuck…" she muttered. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the thing resting on the bed and against the wall.

 

She didn't want to look. She didn't want to see, to acknowledge what he had done to her. He had killed Sandrone and Columbina; Flins and Nefer and Lauma were probably dead as well. She couldn't bear to look and see the reason he had left her alive.

 

Lumine stood up. Her balance was off. The thing weighed her down, dragging behind her on the floor. She could lift it off the ground, but she was so tired. She just wanted to sleep. She wanted Aether. She wanted Paimon.

 

She fell on her knees. She could feel the warmth of tears sliding down her face, then salt as they slipped past her lips.

 

"Columbina," she cried. She hunched over, letting the tears fall freely. She cupped her face in her hands. She wished she could hide, but there was nowhere to go.

 

The thing wrapped around her on both sides. Soft and feathery and heavy. It—they were wings.

 

"These aren't my wings…" she whispered, and wept for that too. Her powers had been sealed, and her wings were stardust. They weren't even attached to her; it was her intent and power that made them move how she wanted.

 

Why did she have wings?

 

"I see you've noticed the modifications I made."

 

"You sick bastard," she said, trying not to throw up. "What did you do? What did you do to me?!"

 

"Now, now. I thought you'd be grateful."

 

"Why would I be grateful?" she asked, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. Why could she feel the power of kuuvahki now, when she had never been able to use it before?

 

These… these were…

 

"Columbina…" she whispered, the sudden realization threatening to choke her.

 

"She was far too wary of me. She never would have stood with me. But now, she can at least be of some use to someone who will."

 

"No. No…"

 

Lumine tried to twist around, see for herself if it was true, if the horrendous suspicion she had was real…

 

"You are aware that you can control them? I would never give you wings without the ability to use them."

 

"I don't want them!"

 

"And here I thought my gift to remember a friend by would be more… well-received," Dottore said, frowning. "This won't do."

 

"Did you really think I would be happy with this?" She tried to stand, but staggered. Went back to her knees. As if on instinct, the wings curled around her again, as if to protect her from the madman before her.

 

As if they could.

 

She was crying again, ashamed to admit that the wings felt like safety, like the presence of her old friend wrapping her in a hug. She wanted to stay there, and pretend it really was her. That she was still alive.

 

But try as she might, she could not ignore the smell of bleach and the bright lights above. He would not let her ignore him.

 

"What's the point, Dottore? You beat us. Why do you even want me on your side?"

 

He chuckled, perhaps enjoying how broken she sounded. That she was kneeling; beneath him.

 

"At first, I'll admit, I only wanted a Descender on my side. But you've managed to pique my interest far beyond your unique status in this world. I want you, my lovely Traveler."

 

"Just end this charade," she said, exhausted. "End it all."

 

He walked toward her, brushing aside the feeble attempts her wings made to stop him. She flinched as he lifted up her chin so that she was looking directly into his mask.

 

"You think so little of me, my Descender? You think so lowly of yourself?"

 

"I don't want this…" she said, trembling at his touch.

 

He smiled feverishly. "Ah… I'm sure you'll change your mind."

 

And he left. The door closed with a loud thud behind him.

 

She hated him. She hated him, but she did not want to be alone with the memory of her friend who had trusted her to bring her back and stop Dottore. Columbina had trusted her and she had failed her so utterly.

 

She was screaming at the closed door, raging, banging on the walls that kept her in this forsaken place. She didn't want to be alone anymore.

 

She couldn't be alone anymore.