Chapter Text
It rains.
Rains all year long in Fontaine City.
Rains while another trial is held.
Afflictive lightning slashes through the skies.
The weather clears up sometimes. Continuous rain would make the area almost uninhabitable, after all.
This time, it doesn't.
It rains. For a week. Non-stop.
Videos of lowlands in Fontaine being flooded by the tremendous amount of rainfall are shown one after another on the news of Fontaine's television channel. Widespread public panic about the prophecy of the nation of Hydro sinking into endless waters, baseless theories about the cause of the extreme weather…
The flood (of information) makes its way into the Fortress of Meropide.
And so Wriothesley rushes towards the Chief Justice's office when he's finished with his own working hours, and catches him sorting through a mountain of documents, as usual.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Duke Wriothesley?"
Neuvillette looks up from his desk, red lines decorating the delicate skin under his eyes.
Wriothesley feels his heart crumble a little bit looking at just how weary his boyfriend has become.
Archons know how long he'd been tearing up. Suffering in silence.
"I came to see you for personal reasons, Monsieur Neuvillette."
Silence.
"There was no need to charge into my office like that.”
Wriothesley feels his cheeks slightly heating up. "Dumbass. I was concerned."
Neuvillette frowns at the unwanted nickname, "...why?"
"It's been raining non-stop. For an entire week now, love. I couldn't wait any longer."
Neuvillette pretends to be reading his documents. Anything to avoid maintaining eye contact with Wriothesley.
"...my apologies. I let my emotions get the better of me."
Wriothesley walks towards him, and while waiting for him to finish performing the unnecessary act of "reading his documents", toys with Neuvillette's side-swept bangs while eyeing his two streaks of blue… Horns, perhaps? A thousand times more blue than the sky, he thinks.
"Wait," Neuvillette mutters under his breath, "You travelled across sea and land and arrived at the Opera House just for this?… How reckless."
Wriothesley sighs at the obliviousness of his partner. That's what he calls him, but…
"Yes. There hasn’t been much to do down there."
"I would like to express my gratitude, Your Grace."
"...It's nothing. You're my boyfriend after all.” The word feels foreign and childish rolling off his tongue.
Neuvillette immediately turns to Wriothesley, as if remembering something important, "I apologize if I am… Too distant for your liking."
Yes, you are. And terribly so. Wriothesley swallows these words down. They both had better (and more pressing) things to do than see each other in person.
"I have been cautious to make sure my tears don't fall. It's still raining. I'm… Harming the citizens," Neuvillette buries his face into his lover's shoulder.
He faintly remembers the period of time when it was, decidedly, impossible for him to physically shed tears.
He'd thought it was a blessing. He did not need to worry about the possibilities of a Fontainian citizen asking the Iudex, entirely drenched from standing in the relentless rain, if he was doing fine. Only to find that the wetness on his face isn't merely from the weather.
Or worse, having a mental breakdown during a trial.
He paid no mind to the surging emotions inside him, the pressure building up perpetually, with the only way of escape being the rain. The skies weep for the Hydro Dragon, yet the raindrops are the purest form of emotions condensed from all of Fontaine.
Through coming into contact with any forms of water, the Hydro Dragon feels the emotions it contains, intensely. Doubly intense for someone who naturally cannot process human emotions accurately.
The day of Wriothesley’s trial changed everything.
He was only a boy. Yet the despair in his eyes was unmistakable. He could’ve argued plenty, about how killing his “parents” would change many children’s lives for the better, to at least shorten the sentence he had to serve.
The young boy had done none of that. He merely admitted to all his crimes and even explained how he committed the crime in detail.
That criminal doesn’t need to know about how the skies wept for him four days in a row. Doesn’t need to know that a worthless orphan-turned-murderer like him made the Hydro Dragon physically shed tears for the first time in a thousand years, the tears that he unknowingly held in for centuries, now all rushing out from his periwinkle slitted eyes, violent and neverending.
From that day on, the ancient creature gained a new ability. Which is, according to him, the worst ability possible.
It gets worse whenever he approaches the prisoner-turned-warden. With him, it always seems like his emotions are greater than himself, spilling onto the ground uncontrollably like a knocked over cup filled up to the brim with water, only for the Duke to witness.
"Mon chéri,"
"...?"
"It's okay to cry."
"..." That statement seems to shake something in Neuvillette's core.
"I can hear people cursing the Hydro Dragon under their breaths from here. The irresponsible creature who lets his city drown in his tears. I taste the agony and suffering of the citizens from the bitter raindrops."
At that Wriothesley only lifts his boyfriend's face slightly so that their gazes connect. "Neuvi, by making futile attempts to stop your tears from flowing, you've managed to flood the entire region. If you let it all out for once, perhaps it would do good to both you and this land."
Neuvillette stares at him with his usual unreadable expression, although this time Wriothesley can see grief decorating these sharp eyes.
He can't help himself.
"You're beautiful like this. How I wish to stare at your majestic periwinkle eyes every morning as we wake up from our shared deep slumber. Even the name of that colour sounds as pretty as you, mon chéri."
Neuvillette's once pale face is now adorned by vermillion, a blush seeping down to his neck. "It is… not appropriate for us to exhibit this behaviour in the Palais Mermonia, Your Grace.”
They both know it. Wriothesley thinks Neuvillette crying is a literal work of art. Even without being able to see the colours, all of his vibrancy, he's beautiful. And it's selfish. Utterly selfish, if one must. Making the Hydro Dragon cry for one person's enjoyment while the entirety of Fontaine City suffers from thunder.
Wriothesley gently runs his fingers under Neuvillette's eyes and wipes the neverending tears away.
“I am supposed to be the fair emotionless judge who represents the most upper justice in this land of fairness,” Neuvillette babbles between sobs, “Someone who cannot control their emotions well is not fit for this occupation.”
“You do conceal it well at work, no? There’s no one more suitable than the Hydro Dragon himself to be the Chief Justice. May I know what exactly has been bothering you since the past week?”
In the embrace and warmth of the black-haired man, Neuvillette calms himself down.
"Navia's father, and…"
"And?" Wriothesley hums.
"The machine and my judgement did not match. It's been a nightmare for me ever since I became the Chief Justice. One that has come true."
"I'm aware of both incidents. I have personally looked through the files of related persons and the trials have made quite the talk in the city. But I don't think these two cases exactly are causing the continuous downpour."
"Please enlighten me then, Your Grace."
"You're overworking yourself, mon chéri."
"The Chief Justice's position requires him to work tirelessly without breaks. I believe that the same can be said for the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide." Neuvillette states as if he's unrelated to said positions, voice steady and unmoving, a stark contrast to his expression.
"I know. But I'm sure your work takes quite a huge toll on you, my gorgeous dragon." Wriothesley teases, emphasizing on the last three words. “Perhaps you could take a break. Tonight. If anything, for me. Please?" He stares at him with supposedly adorable puppy eyes, which unfortunately comes off as a wolf's gaze staring at his prey.
Neuvillette doesn't respond, his gaze desperately attempting to escape from that of Wriothesley's.
The Duke sighs softly, cupping his lover's face with his warm hands. The Iudex finally looks up, a silent affirmation. They stay like that for a few seconds, not exchanging any words.
Suddenly Neuvillette chokes out a sob again, followed by a little laugh. One that sounds way, way too fake.
"I must apologize."
"For what?"
"It's… Confusing to me how you're still here, dealing with me. As the Chief Justice, I must say this is extremely unfair to you."
"..."
"You're always the one comforting me. Do humans really accept a relationship as unfair as this? You are giving me too much."
Oh.
Guilt, perhaps?
Or an excuse to escape their relationship?
Is he unsatisfied? Is this a play to him? An experiment regarding love, because Neuvillette finds him so worthless that he's fit for an unwilling participant in a study?
“Do you even feel attraction towards me?”
Really, how much of a fool can he be?
He got a fucking dragon to love him. A. Fucking. Dragon. When he isn't even worth the attention of the average human.
The sheer volume of his question stuns both of them and for a split second Wriothesley swears he saw Neuvillette make a shocked expression, however he quickly regains his collected posture.
"Yes. I may not show it explicitly, but in my hundreds of decades of living, I do not recall anyone like you that has shown me the true meaning of 'love'. I can feel the way my heart flutters whenever I think about you. I cannot explain the tingly feelings all over my body if not because of you. I see the way that you cherish and care about me; I wish to return the favor. This burning desire in my being to devour you whole, to be with you, perhaps it can only be addressed as what humans call 'love'."
…
No response.
"Have I misinterpreted something, Duke Wriothesley? If so, I-"
"No. Not at all. I'm just surprised that I would ever live to hear you say something like this, mon chéri." Wriothesley chuckles, his voice trembling.
"Do you…" Hesitancy can be detected in Neuvillette's voice, "Dislike it?"
Wriothesley sighs and pulls his lover into a hug, "Of course not. I enjoyed listening to every word you said, and I hope you know that I feel the exact same way. I hope we can stay safe in this love."
Archons know when it started, but tears are spilling out of Neuvillette's eyes again. He stammers, "One day you'll leave me like the ones who-" He gags, presumably wanting to throw up due to the tight coil in his throat which was caused by none other than his own tears.
Wriothesley kisses him again, this time on the lips.
As their lips press against each other's in a tender, achingly gentle kiss, Neuvillette lets out a high, needy whimper before the situation smacks him in the face.
The younger man barely catches the split second when there's more emotions mixed together in these periwinkle eyes than he has ever seen the judge express before. Frustration? Sadness? Fear? Confusion? …wrong. Just anger. Pure agony leaking out from said eyes.
Nonetheless, Neuvillette has already pushed him away desperately - no amount of emotion reading can save him from getting into trouble.
"Duke Wriothesley."
Said man stands still, body frozen due to intense panic rushing through his veins.
"Why? Why do you only kiss me when I'm crying? Do you really love my tears that much?"