Chapter Text
…The mourning doves are singing. This morning is the clearest one in a long while. Even though this is the ending, I feel almost at peace now.
I do not regret telling this tale. It did help indeed.
Freminet got maybe four hours of sleep. Neuvillette had insisted he get whatever little he could while the rest prepared the details.
He was awoken by Neuvillette to pack his bags. He kind of felt nostalgic about leaving this room now. It was the third home he’d been able to find.
Maybe he was someone worthy of care since that’s the case. But he had a feeling it was still going to take himself more time to believe that, if ever.
Freminet grabbed the box of trinkets and tools Clorinde bought him, maybe he’ll have a chance to finally use it wherever his new home is. If he had to leave the nation, maybe he could bring the more advanced, Fontainian technology to wherever he went. If he was ever brave enough to put his work out there.
He began putting the half-made inventions he never finished in his box, grabbing his journal with all his blueprints and putting it in a bag provided by Neuvillette, putting the bag over his shoulder.
He grabbed the bag of perfume Lyney and Lynette wore, reaching in and holding the bottle as if it’d break just by looking at it the wrong way. He scooped up Pers, holding him under his arm and moving towards the mirror.
“I’m scared,” He murmured, looking down at the bottle. He spritzed some on himself before putting it in his bag. He brought pers in front of him and looked at his companion.
Closing his eyes, he imagined Princess Marcotte’s hand on his shoulder, The Clockwork Guardsman’s on his other, Mr. Fox’s tail wrapped around his leg. He opened his eyes, heart heavy that he didn’t see them to provide their strength in the real world.
But then, the door pushed open and he could’ve sworn he saw Lyney and Lynette in the reflection of the mirror, he swiveled— it was just Fuscus and Alba. Then his heart felt heavier. He sat Pers down on the bed, letting the bag slide down his shoulder beside him.
He scooped the two up and they made no protest except for Fuscus meowing. He walked down to the kitchen in hopes of finding Neuvillette.
He found him, but also Chevreuse. His heart stopped, the boy wasn’t ready to face more guilt. Before he could back out, Alba meowed loudly, bringing their attention to him.
“Freminet,” Chevreuse blinked like she didn’t expect the situation to be true.
Neuvillette cleared his throat, “Are you ready to go?”
“Um, not yet,” Freminet quickly averted his gaze to the floor to avoid Chevreuse. “Can I… can Alba and Fuscus come with?” He shrugged his shoulders and lifted the cats ever so slightly higher.
Neuvillette and Chevreuse exchanged glances, having a silent conversation.
“Of course,” Neuvillette spoke.
“As long as they can travel by boat,” She let out an exasperated sigh, shaking her head.
Freminet hoped that was the case. He nodded and ran back up to his room with them, letting them down onto his bed as he quickly began packing the rest of his things.
.
Freminet now stood outside Neuvillette’s home, part of him not ready to say goodbye to the place. He didn’t call it home for long, but it was still a home and a place he’d leave a piece of his heart behind in.
Chevreuse was at his side, musket in hand. Neuvillette was at his other side, holding a few of his bags and Pers as Freminet took it upon himself to carry Alba and Fuscus.
Navia, Wriothesley, and Clorinde stood in front of them. Navia ran up and hugged him tightly, ignoring Alba’s yowl of discontentment.
“Oh, I’m going to miss you! It feels like we just got you back and you’re leaving again,” She whined. Freminet kind of wished he could’ve hugged her back, but at the same time was grateful he couldn’t because he wasn’t sure Navia would’ve let go otherwise.
“…I’ll… try to write to you. Once it’s safe to,” He resolved with a nod.
Navia nodded, wiping away a stray tear, before taking a deep breath and chuckling slightly. “Alright, I’m good now. I will be, at least.”
Wriothesley was the next one to walk forward, ruffling his hair like Lyney would’ve. It caused Freminet’s throat to constrict. Fuscus swatted at him before climbing out of Freminet’s hands and onto his shoulder, hissing at him.
Freminet blinked, unsure of where Fuscus got his hatred for Wriothesley. The duke, however, didn’t seem to take it personally, just laughing.
“He seems protective of you, huh?” He grinned like it was an inside joke that Freminet didn’t get.
“Uh, I guess so.”
“Alright, kid. Take care of yourself. Listen to Chevreuse and your ‘father’,” Wriothesley teased, putting an emphasis on father.
Freminet was confused for a moment before Wriothesley nodded Neuvillette. Freminet frowned and hid his embarrassment behind Alba, who just meowed unsympathetically; causing most everyone to burst out into laughter. Besides Neuvillette, who just stared blankly like he was silently scolding Wriothesley.
The man must’ve seen the stare for what it was because he raised his hands in defense and walked back next to Navia.
“Right, are we ready to go?” Chevreuse asked. Freminet nodded but they didn’t take three steps before he stopped again; seeing the cats, the ones Lynette had trained, eating out of the trough. He knew he couldn’t bring them all, that was just too many. And even if he stayed in Fontaine and went to Petrichor… they wouldn’t be able to follow across ocean.
“I’ll take care of them,” Neuvillette put a hand on Freminet’s shoulder.
“…Thank you,” He nodded softly, looking down at the ground as they walked.
“There’s a small house in Beryl, not on any maps. You’ll go there for the night. Once we’ve assessed the threat more accurately, it will determine whether or not you flee nation,” Chevreuse explained. “Neuvillette will stay the night with you at the safe house for protection while I’ll go back into town for the investigation.”
“Okay.”
When they arrived at the Aquabuses, Chevreuse held out her hand to stop them, gesturing ahead to a bouncing Charlotte and an impassive Chiori.
“What are they doing here?” Neuvillette narrowed his eyes, standing in front of Freminet. Turning to face him as he dug a hat out of one of the bags, he put it on him.
“Looking for someone it would seem. I’ll deal with it. You go get Freminet on that Aquabus no matter what. The longer he sits here, the bigger of a sitting duck he is.”
Were they looking for Freminet?
“Right,” Neuvillette nodded and grabbed Freminet’s arm to take him to the side.
.
Chevreuse walked up to Chiori and Charlotte.
“Oh, there you are,” Chiori spoke flatly.
“You were looking for me? Why? How’d you find me?” If these two could find where she was… what would that say about the Knave?
“…We asked the guys at the Mason Gardiennage. Why? Were we not supposed to find you?” Charlotte tilted her head.
Chevreuse gritted her teeth, “Who did? I need to know who’s getting fired.”
“So you are doing some high level mission right now, hm?” Chiori tilted her head. “Charlotte’s lying. We broke into your office and found papers stating you were escorting a Jean DuPont to the Aquabus.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose, “Seriously? Get out of here, now.”
“Why? There’s plenty of civilians here!” Charlotte stepped forward, her journalistic instincts obviously burning. “Unless… we’d be able to recognize this Jean DuPont!”
Chiori smacked Charlotte upside the head slightly. “We’re not here for that. We want to know why the search for Freminet was called off.”
That’s it?
Chevreuse felt a little breath of relief escape her shoulders. Those same shoulders tensed back up when she saw Neuvillette guiding Freminet to the Aquabus right behind Charlotte and Chiori.
Before the two turned around to see what her panicked expression was for, Chevreuse spoke up, waving her arms. “There’s just not enough evidence to continue searching for him, I’m sorry. We have to prioritize more important cases.”
Charlotte physically deflated, ready to call it off— but Chiori doubled down, “It’s hardly been a week since it was determined there was a chance of his survival.”
“I’m sorry. We don’t have the men available to continue searching, and we don’t know where to look anymore.”
“Since when do you lie?”
Chevreuse sighed, “Chiori, please. You’ll both have to face repercussions for breaking and entering into my office and looking at files you weren’t supposed to. Can I trust you to not run off while I deal with a thing real quick?”
Chiori huffed and looked away and Charlotte pouted but inevitably nodded, pulling Chiori to the side.
Chevreuse hastily walked up the steps of the Aquabus, “It was nothing major, but it has caused a situation to arise.”
“Because of me?” Freminet asked softly, trying to calm down Alba, who sat on his lap and dug her claws into his clothes for protection from the unlikely probability of going overboard.
Fuscus sat calmly at his feet, thankfully. Freminet felt a bit bad, his stuff took up two more seats but there weren’t many on the bus with him.
She made an ‘ehh’ noise and swayed her head, “…Sort of but nothing to worry about, you have my word.”
“We’ll trust you. I assume I should take Freminet on my own, then?” Neuvillette rested his hand on Freminet’s shoulder.
“That’d be best. Thank you, Chief Justice,” She did the Fontainian salute before hopping off the Aquabus right before it left.
.
Neuvillette was yearning to move, change his posture, anything. But, he didn’t.
Alba eventually calmed down and decided to claim his lap for whatever reason, then Fuscus climbed up to cuddle with his sister, and now Freminet leaned against him as he sketched in a notebook Neuvillette never knew he had.
Safe to say, it would’ve been a great injustice to move.
Freminet, unknowing of Neuvillette’s plights, leaned against Neuvillette comfortably. He decided now was as good a time as ever to take up Navia’s suggestion of drawing to get his feelings out.
He didn’t have much skill in drawing much other than blueprints. When he was younger, he’d try to make his own storybooks complete with drawings but… it was just that; a child’s drawing.
He decided to try and sketch Lyney and Lynette from memory. It wouldn’t be perfect, but he wanted to encapsulate how he saw them now before he forgot later. Maybe he could ask Neuvillette to get him some photos of them from Charlotte or other newspaper clippings.
Besides, all those photos would’ve been of their performances. The one he was drawing was a bit more domestic. They were sitting at their table in their home, eating pancakes.
His heart hurt but he’d rather make it through the pain than not do it at all.
He really has come far, hasn’t he?
He probably would’ve said something like he deserved to not make it through.
Okay, yes that thought was still there, he’ll be honest, if only to himself, about that. But it wasn’t as loud anymore, and he wasn’t letting it hinder his ability to do things that matter to him. He really was letting himself be happy, just as he promised Lyney, Lynette, Clorinde, …and himself.
Thinking of Clorinde… yesterday proved a great distraction from it with her sudden training. It prolonged his processing of most things, of which he was kind of going through now that he had a silent Aquabus ride to look forward to.
He was talking about his nightmare of course, and the thing that was plaguing him? Did Neuvillette find him guilty? He knew he shouldn’t give much credit to a dream, but he had been getting incredibly vivid ones recently.
Should he ask?
“…Neuvillette?”
“Yes?”
No better way but to say it before he could think about it. Without stopping his sketch, he spoke; “You said, when we first met, that you’d be willing to look past all my crimes. That… um, looking past it isn’t forgiveness. I- I am not asking for that, either. What I just wanted to know is,” His pencil stopped, he stared past his notebook and into nothingness, “do you… am I guilty?”
Neuvillette blinked, he moved his head to look at Freminet. How long had he been thinking about that?
In terms of obviousness, yes, Freminet was completely and entirely guilty based around his indirect confessions of guilt in the past. In terms of evidence, there wasn’t enough to reach a reasonable verdict.
But— for the first time in Neuvillette’s career amongst humans —he felt the urge to lie to prevent any hurt over the truth.
Neuvillette wouldn’t abandon who he was for anyone, even a son, but the fact that he got the urge to in the first place was new. He didn’t know what to do with that feeling. He looked back down at the cats on his lap.
“I… do not wish to give a verdict. For once, I do not wish to enact justice. If only because in your eyes, justice is a harsh thing and is more about punishment than fairness. Freminet, regardless of guilt; everything you’ve been going through, it’s redeemed you. You are a reformed criminal, rehabilitated. Do I find you guilty or innocent is a foolish question in this case, for I find you absolved of your past wrongdoings.”
Freminet hummed silently and nodded, going back to drawing for a few short seconds. But then, the words registered and he sat the pencil and sketchbook down on the seat next to him, pushing off of Neuvillette and sitting straight.
He stared down at his lap. He wouldn’t have thought of it that way, he still didn’t. Part of him felt forever dirtied with sin. But everyone around him seemed to think otherwise. Either the majority is ignorant… or he is wrong.
Deep down, he knew it wasn’t black and white like that. But part of him wanted it to be, why? Because it was easier? Yeah, that’s it. It was easier.
Freminet closed his eyes and took a grounding breath to push back the water forming in his eyes, looking over and up at Neuvillette.
“If the Chief Justice says so, then he must be right,” He gave a soft smile.
Even if he didn’t believe it, he wanted Neuvillette to believe he could handle it. Handle going off on his own; which was something Freminet still found a scary thing.
Neuvillette believed it, for he knew it to be true. He stared at Freminet with a look distinctly similar to his hopeless one, but this one was full of hope. It was accompanied by a smile, one sad but appreciative.
“I’ll miss you.”
“Mm, let’s not think about saying goodbye, yet. We still have tonight in Beryl together; I could make that soup again, if you’re fine with that,” Freminet scratched the back of his head.
“Of course, we could fish together to gather the ingredients,” He responded as the Aquabus came to a halt. He gathered Freminet’s things whilst the cats woke up and jumped into Freminet’s arms— eager to get on solid land.
“…You know how to fish?”
“I know almost everything, Freminet,” He let out a chuckle at the boy’s befuddlement.
Freminet couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it was like to finally have a dad. Not one that was absent for childhood, not one that abstained from showing emotion, just a real and genuine thing that someone wouldn’t trade for the world. Something like Lyney and Lynette again.
Freminet figured he’d be able to handle it.
That night, they fished together as promised and ate a delicious helping of Poisson Seafood Soup. The two didn’t talk about anything sad, didn’t say any goodbyes, they favored quiet moments of Neuvillette doing the paperwork he brought while Freminet sketched or read to ignore the dread and anxiety over the idea of being caught by The Knave.
Whilst with Chiori and Charlotte; the two were let off with a fine and a warning— and Chevreuse invested in better security for her office.
The next morning, Chevreuse came by to confirm that Freminet would be moving to Petrichor. Freminet was shocked to have even woken up with his head still attached to his body, more so that he wouldn’t have to leave Fontaine immediately.
Much to Alba and Fuscus’s disdain, they relocated him in the same day; taking another boat there.
Apparently, while Freminet was enjoying his last night with a friend and father, Clorinde went ahead to prepare a house in Petrichor.
She decided to retire from her career as a Champion Duelist, at least temporarily, in favor of being the Garde protecting Freminet. The boy was infinitely grateful for that, that he wouldn’t be alone in an unfamiliar place.
Now Chevreuse made it impossibly clear that plans could’ve changed at any moment; Freminet might have to leave Petrichor one day, too. Someone as notorious as The Knave wasn’t one they were used to going against.
As for The Knave, she didn’t give up. Far from it. But she misdirected her attention onto the Chief Justice, attempting to get him to inform her of his whereabouts with vague threats but they never held any weight. Maybe she grew soft, that was the only conclusion I could reach, at least.
In the future, the boy made himself a living off of mechanics and storybook telling. He— or rather, Jean DuPont, became semi-popular amongst the inhabitants of the island for his kindness, ability to fix up everyday appliances, and among the children for his stories accompanied by drawings. He didn’t grow outside of Petrichor, but he didn’t want to.
If he did, he was certain his paranoia would’ve came back. For the first while he was rehoused there, he could hardly sleep because of nightmares of Arlecchino finding him plaguing him.
But after Clorinde continued training him, his anxiety dwindled as his strength grew. Alongside his growing strength, he decided to take up the Marechusse Hunter mantle and protect the people living in Petrichor, wearing his diving helmet to protect his identity because a true hero doesn’t do what he did for fame.
He never had to relocate again, he exchanged letters with Neuvillette and Navia, even Wriothesley but only after the man himself sent him a letter. Clorinde stayed much longer than he expected and only left when it was safe for everyone to visit him and have a reunion.
…It didn’t take long for a being like me to notice when they boy’s hair started to grow grey.
The Sovereign Dragon of Hydro… he noticed it, too. And so, on the boy’s death bed, Freminet told the very same Iudex of Justice that hadn’t aged a day since the day they mutually saved each other in different ways;
“When I die, take my memories from the ley lines so you know all the things I could not say. When I die, return me to the ocean. When I die, let me be free to roam among the fish and the stars. Let me be with my sister and brother, mother too. Let “Father” join me and you, too, inevitably if only impossibly.”
It didn’t surprise the dragon the boy knew of his true form. It was an unsaid truth between the two.
“I’ll know your memories, I’ll know all the things you could not say. I’ll let you be free to roam among the fish and the stars, I’ll let you be with your sister, brother, mother, and “Father” too. Maybe and impossibly one day, too, I’ll visit you. But for now rest, rest and know that you are my son,” the Hydro Sovereign responded in turn, voice soft and solemn.
“Only if you’ll rest and know that you are my father.”
“I’ll know.”
And before the boy could respond in turn, the light had already faded from his eyes.
Yet, the dragon of Hydro sovereignty pleaded, “Say you know, say you know you are my son, Freminet, please.”
He pleaded to a boy who lived a long life, a boy who could no longer respond to pleas.
Solace, did the dragon find, in being able to know he helped provide the light in his eyes.
…Eventually, after the clouds began to pour, did the dragon use his powers to absorb the memories and leave a husk resembling an Oceanid, allowing it to retract to the waters as a thoughtless being.
And like a dream, did the Chief Justice know every detail about his son’s life.
…
…
..
.
On an island named Petrichor, located in Fontaine, Teyvat. A man stood above a grave given to one ‘Jean Dupont’ that was wedged between two smaller graves for the cats ‘Alba’ and ‘Fuscus.’
He held a bouquet of Romaritime flowers, rainbow roses, and Lumiduoce bells. The sky was a clear one, only in the distance did grey threaten the lands. He took a deep, shaky breath.
“It truly did feel like coming out of and dream. And earnest to my words, I can believe you were my son, taking your own thoughts and emotions as proof,” Neuvillette spoke to the grave. “I believe you truly saw me as a father too, and that’s all I could ever ask for.”
“I was… beside myself with grief. Your death alone was difficult to manage, but processing your entire life… it was a feat I had hardly ever done before. I wasted away in my house for a week before Sedene suggested I had to do something to get out of my despair. She took me to see your grave, I explained what had me so distressed and she said I should try reciting your life into words. It’d take too long to do it all, so I decided to do the part that had me the most torn.”
Neuvillette knelt, soiling the knee of his pants with the dirt, placing the bouquet, “She stayed until the very last Aquabus left. I told her I’d take a whole month away and stay in Petrichor. It was spontaneous and, frankly, reckless. But Sedene assured me that she could manage. I did finally implement Wriothesley’s idea of multiple Iudex’s, but I still mostly only trust myself. I guess some things never change.”
After letting out a bitter chuckle, he sat down on his other knee too. “I’ll miss you, Freminet. Shamefully, more than Wriothesley, Navia, and Clorinde. But I do not doubt that my grief is stretched thin between you all. Rest well in the stars…”
“…And... Thank you. Thank you for listening to me tell this tale, this tale of a boy named Freminet. And how, due to a sequence of unlikely events, he found a point in living once more. I rested, Freminet, just like you asked, I know I am your father, just like you asked. But now it is time for me to go back to my duties. Justice sleeps for no one, like death shows no mercy.”
.
..
…
…
A solitary tear. A dragon weeping for humanity. A point in living. It all doesn’t feel so far fetched any longer.
And hope, in the darkest times, doesn’t feel so suffocating knowing that it’s the darkness that allows us to truly understand ourselves.
And love, as foreign an entity it can be, isn’t so strange knowing that it belongs to everyone and is a thing that doesn’t judge or hate.
And death, tragic and a reminder of how short things can last, is an inevitable part of the cycle but it must happen to bring about new chances at life.
And grief, terrible and deafening, must only exist to provide us a reason to appreciate life. Appreciate it we should, if not our lives, the lives of others.
And immortality, a cursed thing, can be good. For without it, this tale couldn’t have been told. It will surpass you and I— and it’s lesson, I hope will too.
Goodbye, my son. May you remind me how to seek refuge in others.