Work Text:
Rain poured over Fontaine. The deluge had gone on for days; grey clouds blanketing the sky all the way to the horizon, transforming the normally shining inland sea into rows upon rows of dark and angry waves. The last trial in the Opera Epiclese ended two nights ago, marking the closure of a ten-day-long trial series. No one in the court of Fontaine could bear to miss the Steambird article which covered the drama that came with such a serious case.
Water swept from roofs to gutters in an unending staccato. In the streets below, children scattered here and there playfully, weaving in and out of the pouring rain as exasperated parents watched on from windows and balconies.
"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry!"
They called into the weeping skies, but the being responsible for the natural event couldn’t hear, nor see these childish attempts to make their playground’s floor dry again.
Somewhere in the torrential downpour, a door creaked open.
"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry…” murmured a baritone voice as the door shut behind him, wind brushing locks of dark hair from the man’s face. Then he stepped into the howling gale, a slight sound of disapproval escaping his lips as the rain drenched him, the furred edge of his coat sticking to the side of his neck.
Thunder crashed in the distance. The rain was showing no signs of clearing up, and Wriothesly heaved a sigh. Pulling the collar of his already-soaked coat around his ears, he set off down the street. He didn’t want to go to Palais Mermonia to respect the Iudex’s former wish, but… he also didn’t dare to not go.
-
The Duke strolled through the lobby of Palais Mermonia, his head held high. A few of the Gestionnaire were still present, definitely working overtime hours as the golden clock in the heart of the Court hit ten in the evening when Wriothesley arrived with the aquabus.
Surprised gazes were averted as he just slightly nodded towards the diligent workers – no one dared to question what important business the Warden of Fortress Meropide had within Palais Mermonia when nature fought an ungodly fight outside for two days now.
Wriothesley knew he looked like a wandering stray hound – and it could only add to his otherwise already intimidating appearance.
The wet metal cuffs jingling sharply on his hip, he reached the administrator’s desk. The dutiful Melusine whom Wriothesley recognised greeted him formally.
“Good evening, Sedene,” the Duke started, gaining a badly hidden reaction from her as he called her by her name. Wriothesley wasn’t one to forget.
“What business brings you here, Monsieur Wriothesley? Lady Furina is not available at this hour,” Sedene informed him with a serious expression.
“I came to see our Chief Justice,” he began and continued immediately when he saw the objection on the Melusine’s face. “It’s an official business of Fortress Meropide. It shouldn’t wait.”
Wriothesley shifted his weight and stepped back from the counter Sedene was sitting behind.
“I…” She started, conflicted. “Monsieur Neuvillette asked us to not let anyone come into his office.”
“And did you lock his door?” Wriothesley asked without missing a beat, in a tone that suggested she clearly did the action, tilting his head to the side. “When did he ask you this?”
Sedene looked horrified.
“Monsieur Neuvillette, he… He didn’t tell us to lock the door… He just asked to not let anyone inside two days ago.” Looking down at her lap, she genuinely seemed disappointed in herself.
“There, there, then it’s alright, worry not!” In a much kinder voice, the Duke continued. “After all, you’re here this late in the evening, doing your duty, right? The Chief Justice must have some very important paperwork if he made you stay as well.”
“He didn’t make me!” Sedene yelped then lowered her voice quickly with an apologetic gaze. “But we told him we won’t leave until he finishes. It wasn’t just me, yesterday someone else took some extra time after her shift and now I’m staying. We want to make sure no one disturbs him.”
If Fontaine hadn’t looked like it might drown in the next week without intervention, Wriothesley would have continued his talk with Sedene and asked her more about Neuvillette just to be able to tell these back to him later to see his reaction – but this wasn’t that time.
“Sedene, what do you think he would tell you now?”
The Melusine’s eyes widened, her mouth forming a small “o” before she frowned. “Monsieur Neuvillette would scold me for staying late again, even if it wasn’t me yesterday. But then why would he ask us to not let anyone inside…?”
“Mhm, good reasoning. You must have watched many of his trials,” Wriothesley comforted the ever-so-dutiful Melusine. “But maybe it would be time for you to go home, don’t you think?”
Sedene looked like the Duke told her to drink out the whole sea.
“But somebody has to do as he asked…” She said to her lap in a quieter voice.
“You have my word,” Wriothesley said solemnly. “I will ensure no one else comes into his office.” …and hoped Sedene would overlook a certain core detail.
“Monsieur, you also shouldn’t go in.” But of course, she didn’t.
“You’re good at what you do,” he offered the compliment genuinely. “What if I knock and ask the Chief Justice? If he lets me in for official business then I promise you that after that, I will stay here and make sure nobody disturbs him.” Sedene didn’t look yet fully convinced, and with the pattering of rain still audible from outside, Wriothesley started to feel the weight of time passing. “After all, if you want a guard, I suppose I’m capable…” He flexed a muscular arm, raising his hand to the collar of his wet coat and shifting it around his neck a little.
Sedene looked convinced and equally relieved.
“I can agree to that, Monsieur Wriothesley. Thank you for offering to help Monsieur Neuvillette!”
“It’s also to my benefit, Sedene. The Fortress needs some answers that only Chief Justice has” he lied, partially at least.
After the agreement was reached, Wriothesley walked to the right to Neuvillette’s door. He saw that the lobby was empty, maybe his late-night presence was the last that the Gestionnaire could handle before they called it a day.
“Chief Justice? May I come in?” The Duke knocked.
After silence that felt too long, Neuvillette’s muffled voice came from the door. “...You may.”
With one last glance at Sedene, who seemed approving enough of this turn of events, the Duke pushed down the doorknob and entered the spacious office of the Chief Justice of Fontaine.
–
Wriothesley stepped inside and pulled the gold-embossed door shut after himself. Neuvillette was still sitting behind his cypress desk, enormous piles of paper on both sides of him, making his otherwise authoritative form smaller. Unlike his usual self, he didn’t make a move to stand and greet the visitor in his office.
This was unheard of.
The Duke walked closer with slow and quiet steps – as his wet shoes allowed – only the handcuffs clicking loudly on his hip. This was the first time he managed the courage to visit the Iudex during rain – after Neuvillette explicitly asked him to not come.
He had seen Neuvillette only once at a time like this before his request was made – and the only reason why Wriothesley didn’t regret his obstinate behaviour there was because that time resulted in more frequent unofficial meetings between the two of them. Then eventually, in everything else that they both ached for.
Wriothesley wasn’t a person to back down from challenges, or to care too much about requests unless he had a really good reason to do so – but now he was disobeying the ask of the Hydro Sovereign, of the man whom he loved.
Stopping only when he reached the desk, the Duke of Meropide stood still and glanced over the Judge’s porcelain-like form. The dim light in the office, only coming from the lamp on the desk, with the darkness from outside made the Iudex’s skin appear marble, but Wriothesley couldn’t skip to notice how pale he looked. Neuvillette’s pen was stopped mid-sentence, the tip of it over the white space where the text should continue. He wasn’t writing now, only looking down at the letter in front of him, stationery.
They both watched as a drop of ink from the tip of the pen fell onto the paper, messing up the order of the meticulously written sentences above.
Neuvillette inhaled, quiet and slow, and Wriothesley could imagine him counting to three in his head before the Iudex raised his gaze at him.
Just a little, Wriothesley wished he didn’t.
For the uninitiated eye, the Judge’s apathetic gaze was no different than the usual expression he always wore during trials to keep his neutrality visible to all parties, and the authoritative figure that he was. But now the Duke could see the difference. He knew exactly how it felt when Neuvillette looked at him – like really looked – and there was nothing of that feeling as their eyes crossed. The Judge’s gaze was empty, the usual light of it missing, his lilac glance felt dull.
When Wriothesley saw the Iudex during the rain before, he was very upset as well. That day, it wasn’t just raining. It had been a thunderstorm that even Inazuma could adopt as their own.
Now the rain fell like a deluge, the wind shaping rows upon rows of angry waves. The Duke avoided naming the feelings he could connect with the Iudex, and he hated to admit the reason why.
As their gazes met, the Warden nodded politely, “Chief Justice.”
“Duke Wriothesley,” Neuvillette answered without skipping a beat, but they both could hear how his voice held nothing of its usual authority, how rough it sounded. This didn’t go unnoticed by either of them.
Holding eye contact, Wriothesley was still standing in front of his cypress desk. He came here with a purpose and with reason but now he was hesitating, his lips a thin line.
Despite his wavering resolve, it was Neuvillette who broke their connection and glanced away, his expression stone-cold.
Wriothesley would be lying if he said he didn’t feel slightly disappointed.
Opening his mouth to speak and state his reason for visiting – like it wouldn’t have been clear – the Duke stopped himself as the Judge made a move sooner than him. Not looking his way and strands of his silky hair also covering his face, Neuvillette pushed himself up with his cane in hand, and stepped to the window behind his back, turning away from Wriothesley.
Streaks of water painted the window Neuvillette faced. The purple hue of his eyes could be seen reflected on the glass - calm, expressionless, and blank as a sheet of ice. But outside, the skies wept bitter tears.
The Duke stayed put. Giving space for the other to gather his composure was the least he could do - it wouldn’t do to disrespect the Chief Justice’s quiet dignity, no matter how upset he was, and the idea of pitying Neuvillette’s feelings as if he was a distressed human child struck him rather like committing a crime.
Wriothesley waited in silence and his eyes wandered on the Judge’s still form. He couldn’t wrap his head around the eternal beauty and grace that Neuvillette had even in his worst moments. The sight of the Iudex’s blue form with the grey weather behind him did things to Wriothesley’s heart he didn’t dare to name. He wished he could have physically fought and punched anything and everything that made this moment happen – he often wished expressing feelings would be only as complicated as kicking someone’s face into the ground or eating the dirt with his own.
And despite all that, Neuvillette didn’t send him away.
At least not yet. Wriothesley couldn’t do anything better than waiting and giving time to the other to judge him if he pleased or to say anything that he could react to. The object of his visit was quite clear now, even if Neuvillette only let him in to make sure he wasn’t truly present for Meropide's business.
Neuvillette broke the silence at the end, his voice resembling more of his usual:
“I apologise for causing such inconvenient weather for everyone. I can assure you that things will come under control soon.”
His statement made Wriothesley’s blood boil. If there was one thing he didn’t want to hear… This was it.
The Judge’s words were all serious, but they both could hear how empty they sounded. Before either of them could say anything more, lightning struck down on the horizon, as if to contradict Neuvillette. Not that they didn’t feel like a well-crafted lie that the Iudex only would have liked to believe – but maybe even he couldn’t.
Wriothesley thought he understood why Neuvillette came across as empty and dead – but he needed more questions to confirm his idea. Not that it mattered in the first place. He wasn’t here to make the Judge talk to him about his feelings, the Duke knew very well how this may never happen. He came because he cared. And that meant trying his best to offer comfort – but all on Neuvillette’s terms.
And Wriothesley knew that even his open-ended offer might get fully rejected.
As for the start of the rain… Neuvillette didn’t have to say. Probably everyone who lived in Fontaine could hear about the trial series that closed two days ago. The Steambird had covered the whole series from the first case – little did they know back then – and the grand finale made it to the front cover for multiple days.
Over the past three years, many burglary trials had seen the Opera Eciplese, but it was the last one that uncovered evidence to connect forty-two of them.
It was the second one of these where a house fire was also involved. Neuvillette presided over the case and concluded that the fire happened after the burglary, but it was just an accident, as kids admitted to playing with matchsticks. Later on, on a few occasions, a fire was again involved with thievery but without further evidence, the culprits were never found.
Except people died. In three different fires, five adults and two kids have lost their lives. Back then these cases weren’t even viewed as robberies, except the second case that passed Neuvillette’s judgement – but no one died there. The evidence of theft was missing from the house fire cases that happened later as everything was erased by the flames. The Maison Gardiennage couldn’t always afford to send Mekas to the outskirts of the Court, so after the housefires and robbery cases rose, people became more cautious and afraid – the unstable environment providing soil for distrust and miscommunication even between neighbours, giving easier targets to the criminals.
It took one slipped-up sentence and an unexplained family heirloom from a family whose house burnt down to make the Court’s representative prosecutor see the connections and bring up old cases – all ending in one monster of a trial that Neuvillette juried over.
The children from the second case when the first fire happened were threatened to work for the group of thieves who were now rotting in the depths of Fortress of Meropide. It was they who sneaked into houses and placed flammable materials, who lighted up the matches on command that cost lives. Wriothesley read every single case’s recorded conversations – all that had been said at court.
The Duke wanted to believe Neuvillette wasn’t blaming himself for not noticing more during the second trial of these cases but he couldn’t imagine anything else sucking the life out of him like this. Wriothesley wouldn’t think the Iudex would dwell in grief only for the long-lost lives as those cases happened a while ago.
Wriothesley knew about the attached files that covered how the victims of the robberies were wrong and pushed into poverty – some even into crime – and how all these could have been prevented, maybe… If only the fires didn’t happen, if only people didn’t live in fear that gave opportunity. If only somebody noticed the children’s connection with the fire in the first place.
After Neuvillette’s apology, unsettling silence descended over them as the Duke took some time to find his thoughts.
“Are you just saying this or do you mean it?” Wriothesley asked in a low voice as he went around the cypress desk, stepping onto the Iudex’s left side.
Even from profile and some of his hair covering the Judge’s face, the Warden could see him flinching at his words.
Tilting up his head and correcting his lightly slumped posture, Neuvillette turned with a sudden movement towards Wriothesley – but he had to step a little to the side to keep his balance. As he put all his weight onto his left leg, his movement halted; the slight trembling of his lower lip, nor any of his extra movements didn’t go unnoticed by the Duke.
Collecting himself, The Judge managed to lock eyes with Wriothesley, his lilac gaze now more focused after the cold and insulting question. As much as Wriothesley hated the reason he felt relieved to see Neuvillette at least had it within himself to react.
He felt cruel for his approach but he didn’t know any better.
Facing each other, the windows to their sides, they could hear the rainfall’s noise getting heavier, and a flash of blinding lightning lit up the night sky a few times. Guilt burnt Wriothesley inside.
“I don’t want to hear another apology,” the Duke started, breaking their silence. “The one you should be apologising to is you, yourself,” Wriothesley stated, his cold blue eyes unwaveringly staying on Neuvillette’s face.
“I…” the Judge started but once again he averted his gaze. When he stood up from his desk he had some confidence in his movements – maybe enough to send Wriothesley away as the Warden didn’t respect his former request. But now nothing remained from that. “I don’t understand why that would be required.” Words left Neuvillette’s mouth at the end with a slight furrow of his brows.
Wriothesley loosened on his serious posture. “I thought so…” He sighed and closed some of the remaining distance between the two of them, standing now only a half arm’s length away from the Iudex.
The proximity of the other was still relatively new for them but otherwise a consensually welcomed arrangement for both men.
The Duke’s sharp gaze softened when Neuvillette didn’t step away nor made any nonverbal sign that standing a foot apart from him would be unpleasant. Moreso, as the Iudex turned his head fully on the Warden and his gaze found a way up to Wriothesley’s face – the sight did something to the man’s ever-so-cold heart that Fontaine’s best prison crafted out from ice throughout all these years.
Brows slightly raised, jaw clenched, the curved line of his mouth slightly trembling… Neuvillette’s expression held so many buried emotions that Wriothesley wanted nothing but to hug the Judge and do everything in his power to switch that expression to one of the pleasures that he had the fortune to see on him before.
It was Neuvillette who looked away first.
Whatever he pleased and felt fit, but Wriothesley respected the law and boundaries. He had already crossed some lines he shouldn’t have been allowed.
“Should I leave, Chief Justice?” He asked ever so politely, leaning back a little with his upper body to give the other some more breathing place.
The answer was only the tiniest shake of Neuvillett’s head that nothing more but the movement of some of his silky strands of hair made visible. The man’s gaze was fixated somewhere around Wriothesley’s neck, as he didn’t have it to look more upwards - to see the Chief Justice of Fontaine this way twisted things inside of the Warden. Neuvillette looked lost.
“Then…” A sudden urge struck through him. “May I hug you?” He offered. With his arms slightly opened in case the other would like to live with the opportunity, Wriothesley asked ever so carefully, like he would from from a scared deer, a shaking prey.
Thinking about the Hydro Sovereign this way made him want to vomit. The conflict of wanting to help but not knowing how to was tearing him apart inside.
He felt like he was interrupting, that he disregarded a wish of the most respected man of this land, that he went against the will of the man he loved. He didn’t want to misstep.
Embracing himself in case of rejection, Wriothesley waited patiently. But it didn’t take a moment to hear the rustle of fabric as Neuvillette raised his left arm a little. One glance at his face and the Duke knew this meant a yes, so he strode closer to Neuvillette and let the Judge lean into him, holding both of their weight like a pillar, wrapping arms around Neuvillette’s slim waist. If the Iudex was bothered by his wet clothes, he didn’t show any sign of it.
Wriothesley couldn’t ignore how the Judge still gripped his cane in his right hand, leaning towards it and into Wriothesley. He gave Neuvillette a good minute to slowly breathe in and out while he only held him – but as much as he didn’t want to, he had to break away eventually.
Neuvillette’s forehead was resting on top of Wriothesley’s collarbone – as soon as the Duke pulled away from their embrace, the missing weight from there left a burning mark on him.
Shaking off some vague misgiving, the Warden stepped to the left side of the Judge, putting one strong arm around his waist. But there was something tentative in that moment, and he didn’t dare to do more. As he pulled the Judge to lean onto him just like he did in their hug, he murmured:
“Can you sit down? Please. It won’t be comfortable to maintain this position for a long time.”
Wriothesley glanced at Neuvillette, who blinked once, slowly, before a small “Oh” escaped his mouth. Relief washed over the Iudex’s features from the knowledge of what the Duke’s motion had meant, and Writohesley would have liked to shake him and yell at him for thinking he would just leave him here.
Sometimes even Wriothesley’s heart clenched when he thought about what Neuvillette had to live through already. Alone.
“Alright,” Neuvillette replied eventually, regaining some of his authoritative tone. “I would like you to stay if that is possible.” A moment of pause. “After all, you came all this way…”
It felt like a field of ice breaking between them. The Duke only hoped Neuvillette truly understood his reasons.
“Then come with me, my dear Judge,” Wriothesley replied in a rarely shown affectionate voice, earning the smallest of light appearing again in the other’s eyes for a moment.
Neuvillette’s expression turned to stone as they made their way to the closest couch in his office. Wriothesley could have held the other’s weight alone and put him down onto a sitting position, but he accepted that the Judge didn’t want to lean into him too much, neither during the walk nor as he lowered himself onto the couch with his left leg kept more straightened, nearly any weight being put onto it. Once he was fully seated, a small sigh fell from his lips and he leaned his cane to the armrest of the couch.
The Duke slowly sat next to Neuvillette, a hand gently placed onto the Judge’s forearm. He waited for the other to gather himself and look up at him. Neuvillette may have gotten used to getting all the attention while he was being Chief Justice but he wasn’t familiar with this as a person.
Light lilac eyes met his light blue ones and Wriothesley stayed silent, his hand still carefully touching the Judge’s forearm. The Duke could understand how uncomfortable this could be for Neuvillette – in a reversed version, he didn’t want to dwell on how his reaction could have gone. Wriothesley liked to get through feelings by punching the hell out of target dummies or monsters, and he gave the Judge credit for knowing how he could get through his own. But it had been days of never-ending rain. He couldn’t stay away for longer.
“I have the impression that I owe you some explanations,” Neuvillette began after a while.
But the reply from Wriothesley came without missing a beat. “You don’t,” he stated, and the Judge’s face ever so slightly fell. “I would like to hear your thoughts if you’re willing to share, but you don’t owe me anything.” I came here because I care.
Neuvillette inhaled and shook his head a little as he took up a more straight posture. “Sometimes, you say silly things, Duke Wriothesley.” The semblance of a smile flashed through his features as he spoke, amusement and sadness mixing into his voice.
“I may,” the corner of the Warden’s lips turned upwards then he cocked his head sideways. “I wonder if I should be silly enough to ask my favourite Judge to tell me why the skies are grey and the streets filled with water… Or to tell me what has happened there?” Wriothesley’s voice got softer and quieter and he talked, gently touching Neuvillette’s still almost straight left leg as he spoke. “But I believe I’m not silly enough for either,” he added. “I was only missing the softness of your couch and your company, maybe”. The Duke judged this was a safe way to leave open questions and offer Neuvillette choices. He only had one last to mention, “I can also remember some paperwork I forgot if that would be the best fit.”
After seeing the Iudex hesitating and his former lifeless expression returning to its full form from the moment Wriothesley mentioned the rain and implied his physical state, he added, “You don’t have to say anything for my sake. But I’m here to listen to you. Talk about the trial, if you want to. To make me understand your reasonings and you. The rain. The reason behind, not to demand you stop it. To let you tell me about why you’re hurting if you feel like it.”
Wriothesley knew this was a lot to take in. But he would rather play with an open hand than engage in hidden implications that could lead to misunderstandings. He waited for confirmation – which came as a small nod – that Neuvillette caught his stance on the topic. The Duke knew too much to dare to judge the other for his lack of self-control. He rather admired Neuvillette for being able to keep it all together in front of a whole nation. Without him, the justice system in Fontaine couldn’t have existed the same way.
“You can decide on your answer, but I have one request if I’m to stay,” Wriothesley continued. “And that is to tell me how to get you more comfortable, please. How can I help?”
Neuvillette’s eyes widened and his gaze flashed to the door.
“No, no, no, Monsieur”, a wolf’s grin leapt onto the Warden’s face. “I won’t do anything to you until you are emotionally and physically your usual self.” Neuvillette most likely didn’t think of anything deep on this side, Wriothesley supposed, but if a silly sentence could loosen the atmosphere between them then he was all up for it. Even when they were both exhausted from work, spending time together hadn’t felt this heavy as it did now.
“I came here for you nevertheless”, he continued, his expression and manner of speech turning exponentially serious. “You shouldn’t worry about the lobby either, no one’s going to bother, I am sure.”
“I would love to convince you to go home but I doubt you would prefer limping through half of the city centre or being carried there by me so…” Mortification flashed through Neuvillette’s face. “You locked yourself up here, but I wonder if you’ve eaten or if you’re missing something that you usually don’t that helps to keep yourself in one piece. If you took the least amount of care or not when it comes to your well-being.” None of them needed to even hear these assumptions, Wriothesley knew all the answers. “Will you at least put up your leg to rest it? You could lean into me…” Wriothesley teased lightly, trying his hardest to break the ice around the situation as he knew the Judge alone wouldn’t.
He has never seen Neuvillette showing any sign of physical weakness, and as he explained to him before about his sovereign powers, he had way superior healing abilities than what humans possessed. The Duke thought on a few occasions if maybe the Iudex’s cane was at use at different times other than being an aesthetics and tool of work at the court… But he gave himself the credit for being able to notice changes in anyone’s movement patterns. After all, his job required this quite a lot.
And up until today, he has never noticed a single tell-tale sign. Not that he has seen Neuvillette in a state like this when it has been raining outside for days.
Wriothesley’s heart clenched as he thought of the man sitting alone in his office while it rained outside, with the Court only knowing that the Chief Justice had work to do and shouldn’t be disturbed. All the times when Wriothesley didn’t decide to come. All the time before he even got to know Neuvillette. All the times the Judge was hurting, alone.
He doubted that anyone was allowed to be here during these times and he failed to see how he ended up with the opportunity – aside from his rudeness. But even with this, he could have been kicked out from the Judge’s office as soon as it became clear he wasn’t visiting for official business. Wriothesley chose to skip the inquiry about this, not that he would have the courage to do that – even if he failed to admit this to himself.
–
After hearing everything from Wriothesley, Neuvillette had lost his remaining will to send the Duke away, to just drown himself in the self-hatred and disappointment towards himself that he had been trying to overcome in the past days. He wasn’t human, he didn’t require the same time-consuming needs like food and rest to get closer to untie the knot on his heart that the truth of the former trials had brought.
He became an expert at telling half-lies to himself.
Seeing everything with the clear lens of rationality, sometimes he couldn’t decide if he was being too hard on himself and truly ignoring his needs, as a few individuals might have suggested to him before – or if he was just getting distracted with feelings instead of pushing through like he had become so used to doing.
It had worked in the past, but not now.
It had been frustrating Neuvillette to no end that he couldn’t name the reason, nor solve the more frequent occurrence of rain after his trials. He didn’t think much about how not sleeping for days, forgetting to eat, and running so low on energy that he had to use his sovereign resolve to push through was probably not helping him either. This wasn’t his first time, after all.
He had tried multiple approaches in the past years but things weren’t improving, rather only getting worse as of late. If he only thought about what he was causing in these disasters to those who lived at the Lower Court… His heart only felt heavier. He’s been at fault for many mishaps and sometimes he would have liked it if somebody confronted him over these.
But no one did, of course. The task of keeping himself to a standard remained on his shoulders alone.
Neuvillette asked Wriothesley to not visit him during the rains because he didn’t want to inconvenience anyone else, and the Melusines already were doing more for him than he would have liked. He didn’t expect anyone to care about his problems and sorry thoughts – whatever they could call what he had ongoing with the Duke, he didn’t want his uncontrolled emotions to mix into something they mutually enjoyed. The Iudex couldn’t even fully understand why he was letting himself enjoy time like that while the problem of the rising water levels only remained. He was guilty of that charge.
After all the options that Wriothesley presented, after the kindness he showed, Neuvillette didn’t have the willpower to ask him to leave. It would have only hurt both of them when the Duke was only genuine with his intentions and the Judge disliked admitting it even to himself, but it would have hurt him more to stay alone after. If not for his pathetic emotional needs but for the sake of not causing a natural disaster, he allowed himself to let Wriothesley stay. Only this one time, he promised himself.
With the decision made, he couldn’t reason with Wriothesley’s nudging about his comfort, so he complied. He would have liked to laugh and say how little he cared about the physical pain – and how he rather embraced it as it was a punishment and reminder of another one of his mistakes. It also helped to ground him and take some of his attention away from the sharp feeling in his heart that he couldn’t name.
Neuvillette kept these thoughts to himself.
The Judge didn’t expect Wriothesley to go on with what Neuvillette thought was only a tease, but the Duke sat to his right side and expectantly waited for him to lean into his muscular chest. His wet coat discarded aside without manners on the floor, the Iudex just realised how rude he had been this whole time. It didn’t take him more than mere seconds to gather the water from the Warden and guide the ball of water into one of his vases.
“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for coming into your office looking like a wet dog,” Wriothesley added in a dry voice, not really being sorry if Neuvillette had to guess.
“It is raining.”
“Umbrellas are a thing, I was just careless.”
Was the Duke always insufferable when he wanted something? Neuvillette wasn’t sure yet but he went along. “Please, don’t catch a cold.
“Maybe leaning into me can warm me up as well then?” Wriothesley offered, looking expectantly at him. He was insufferable but kind.
If Neuvillette didn’t know how it felt to hold and be held by Wriothesley, he would have never agreed. But overall, even if he decided to not talk, just sitting next to the other could be nice – and as much as he tried to ignore it, his leg had been truly bothering him. The distraction of physical pain over emotional one was welcomed during the day when he tried to work but the size of the piles of paper on his desk showed well how productive he ended up being. The endless rain also only stood on the side that his first approach wasn’t working out.
Neuvillette sighed in defeat.
Allowing himself comfort like this was something that he hadn’t done… He couldn’t name a time when he let his standards down like this. If someone would come to his office – but he believed Wriothesley when he said this won’t happen and also, he stopped sensing the presence of lives outside for a while – he could push through and pretend like nothing was wrong. He still had that inside of him. But he feared how long this could last and he wouldn’t want to admit how his most optimistic guess was way shorter than what Fontaine deserved from him.
After one last glance at Wriothesley – who was still waiting for him patiently – Neuvillette gave him a small nod. It felt alien and warm having someone going out of their way for him. It also filled him with guilt but for now, it wasn’t enough.
Careful with his leg, he raised it to the couch, the sole of his shoe hanging away from the soft surface of the couch. He still had some manners, after all. Even support like this gave him relief – and he forgot about how freeing this could feel. It wasn’t that often that he ran so low on energy he didn’t have it in himself to continue healing… Something that should have never been allowed to be pain-free. All things considered, he was fine more times than he wasn’t and this was undeserved. He could have been grateful to still have two legs and not just one.
As he found a comfortable place for his leg, Wriothesley touched his shoulder to guide him leaning backwards into his chest and shoulder. Once Neuvillette’s back was pressed to the Duke’s now dry clothes, Wriothesley slid his arms under his and hugged him lightly from behind. The Iudex had to note the thoughtfulness of the Warden that was so unlike his outside persona. He was offered an option for comfort in a way that allowed him to hide his face behind his hair. He was allowed to not pretend.
Neuvillette touched the forearms of the Duke and gently stroked his leather-striped, scarred skin with cold fingers to say thank you. He was grateful for all.
–
To Wriothesley’s biggest surprise, the Judge did comply and it didn’t even take multiple rounds of requests. The Duke saw the whitening knuckles of Neuvillette as he was grabbing onto his cane and all other signs that screamed to him, no matter the other’s expressionless face. And Neuvillette couldn’t even fully keep that one.
He felt any capable healer would scold him for not dragging the man with himself and settling for rest only but in his eyes, this counted as a win. After all, it was about Fontaine’s Honourable Chief Justice.
Neuvillette didn’t have to say anything about their new arrangement, the Duke could hear a soft sigh, feel him relaxing into his embrace, the cold fingers touching his arm… Wriothesley wished he would have come sooner.
The lightning outside seemed to disappear but the rain fell as hard as before, the never-ending noise of heavy raindrops filling the night. Silence fell over them, only the sound of their breathing and the soft rustle of fabric broke it. With only a small light at the Iudex’s desk, the couch was a dimly lit, peaceful place.
Wriothesley could feel Neuvillette keeping the air in instead of exhaling before the Judge broke their quiescence.
“Did the Steambird cover the last trials? Have you read it?” An innocuous question, but the Duke felt Neuvillette’s form stiffen.
“I’ve read. They put up a four-page article in the last one,” Wriothesley replied in an even voice. After a pause, he added, “They didn’t mention you. Not more than during the other trials, at least,” he corrected.
“Is that so…” The Judge hummed to himself, but his form didn’t relax.
Wriothesley understood where the question came from. He gave some thought if it was worth continuing their conversations but he couldn’t see any other way.
“Do you think the public would despise you because you ruled falsely on that trial? The Oratrice agreed with you.”
Inhaling sharply, Neuvillette needed a good few seconds to be able to answer. “The trial was about the burglary, not the fire. It was only an addition,” he said matter-of-factly. “I overlooked key information. The Oratrice didn’t make a statement on this. It was my fault.” By the end of his speech the Judge’s voice sounded resigned and the same empty as it was when Wriothesley came into his office.
But Neuvillette confirmed the Duke’s hypothesis. He was glad the Judge could face away from him, he felt this was for both of their benefits.
“You’re Chief Justice for a reason,” Wriothesley started, and he heard Neuvillette draw a sharp breath to answer, but he didn’t let him speak just yet. “Everyone else in that courtroom overlooked this. Every person who had to read the case file later and the whole court conversation overlooked this. It wasn’t just you.”
“Wriothesley, children have died.” Neuvillette’s voice was clear and empty. “Adults have died too. Yes, everyone overlooked it, but others don’t live for centuries like I do.”
Still not letting the Judge’s waist go, the Duke held his light half-hug around the man, unwavering. He knew Neuvillette raised some points and it would have been counterproductive to argue back, so he needed a moment to collect his thoughts. But he didn’t let go, not for a moment. Because overlooking or not, perfect or making a mistake once, he was here for all that. Obviously, he was.
“You’ve seen a lot but you still couldn’t see it all. You may overlook things, sometimes, but you can learn from these,” he started. Who was he to lecture Neuvillette? … But this wasn’t Wriothesley’s goal. He could offer only another point of view and a warm embrace as the Judge solved it on his own. “You could talk to Lady Furina to raise some funds for the victims of these cases and for other victims in the future. You can pay more attention to details the next time. Everyone else can too.” The Duke was listing ideas in a neutral tone, hoping his point had gotten through. Then he added, “It won’t matter much, but I’ve read the trials and I also wouldn’t have thought more into it.”
Staying silent the whole time, seemingly deep in thought, Neuvillette turned his head a little to the side to see Wriothesley’s profile. His brows were slightly raised as he asked, “Have you read it all?”
“Every single one.”
The Judge blinked and turned away again, his silky hair hiding his expression. “That’s a lot of reading,” he commented.
A low rumble of chuckle resonated Wriothesley’s chest by the obvious statement and he could feel the Judge relaxing again in his arms. He would have dared to bet the Iudex already had a very long list of future solutions in his head. Wriothesley hoped Neuvillette could forgive himself.
“Well, I came prepared,” he answered at the end.
A soft humming noise indicated that the Judge understood, and his fingers gently brushed over Wriothesley’s forearm. “You did,” Neuvillette replied after some time passed then leaned more into the Duke’s chest, letting himself rest.
Outside, the rain had gotten noticeably lighter.
On a different day, the Duke wouldn’t have stopped himself from sliding his fingers into the pale hair that flowed onto Neuvillette’s collarbone as he leaned into him. He would have touched his porcelain skin, his soft cheek, then… Wriothesley exhaled slowly, hoping his thoughts remained only his own. This visit wasn’t about them but about Neuvillette.
Only the drizzle of the rain outside broke their silence, the Duke’s right hand finding a way to touch the Judge’s wrist gently. Then Neuvillette took Wriothesley’s hand into his, fingers lightly intertwining and he laid his other hand over his fingers.
Time passed, then eventually Wriothesley was the one who broke their silence. Raising his free arm, he slid his hand down onto the Judge’s left thigh and touched the upper part of his leg tentatively, “Would you like to tell me about this?”
It was an open question, but he heard a quiet sigh from Neuvillette. The Judge’s eyes must have been closed, and Wriothesley could imagine them flickering open at his question.
“This is a bittersweet memory and a reminder that I face whenever I fail to keep my control,” Neuvillette replied, this voice even.
Wriothesley would have liked to say he understood what the Judge meant, but it only raised more questions in him. He saw Neuvillette without his clothes and unlike his own, the Iudex’s skin was perfect, not a single scratch anywhere. The Judge explained to him some of his Sovereign abilities – but altogether with what he witnessed today, Wriothesley didn’t fully understand.
“Would you like to tell?” He asked. “You don’t have to, I only care that you’re feeling better now,” the Warden added and it wasn’t a lie. He could hear how Neuvillette could breathe in a slower tempo now, he felt his back muscles relaxing with the relief that a more comfortable position gave him.
“I suppose I can tell you an old tale. I’m not sure you can read this in a book, as far as I know, it was lost a few centuries ago,” Neuvillette offered.
And Wriothesley was willing to listen.
–
An old teaching goes that after something dies, it will inevitably be reborn. A great Beast once resided on this land, a peaceful creature that grew into something enormous. It started to make a ruckus, it started to harm the lesser, it started to gain oh– such power…
In the Land of Hydro, there once was a Dragon of Water who used to live in harmony with the humans. But an unknown disaster struck, and he disappeared from history along with the empire that sank below the waves. Some say it was caused by the fickleness of a human heart… And then land was soaked in ancestral sins. Feeding upon these, the Beast came.
Where reason failed, only strength remained – and it was the clash of titans. Their shadows covered mountains as they soared above the land, the Sovereign’s words echoing from the mountaintops like the screech of breaking blades, never once reaching its target. Some say it rained blood… and then, a shrill of grief. After, only the blue Hydro energy that filled up the whole sky remained… and the Beast disappeared.
Bloodied flesh fell from the sky, animals and the people of the countryside ran for their lives. It was terror and catastrophe, the wailing filling the air. Hours later, rain came. Some say they only saw a falling star, some say it was the form of a Leviathan… Then people forgot it all, and now… only these fragments remain.
The natural disaster struck down the Land of Hydro, and barely anyone remembered the battle. Those who said it out loud were labelled as clowns – no one believed the tale. It only lived in stories that old people may tell at a bonfire – seen as a clever invention, but an invention nonetheless. Age weakens the memory, after all, but some would swear with their dying breath to the veracity of this tale…
The Sovereign then hid from the humans for a while. Some say He licked his wounds at the bottom of the sea, some say he hid himself away in shame. The skies wept for a month for those who lost their lives in the natural disaster – but no one remembers when the spiky rocks were formed in the Land of Hydro. Some say, a meteor struck and it shaped the spikes of the mountain. Some say, it was the Sovereign who then lived amongst humans and tapped his cane at every trial’s end… And it was only the rain that washed away the blood that spilt that day…
–
Neuvillette recalled the tale as he promised, quoting it like he would read it from a book. His voice was calm and even, Wriothesley could have listened to him speaking for ages.
In the end, the Judge turned his head, the corners of his lips turning upwards in the slightest. “Would you believe this old tale?”
The Duke tilted his head a little to see Neuvillette’s expression better. He couldn’t resist brushing a piece of silky hair from the Iudex’s face while thinking about his answer, fingertips trailing against his cheek.
He knew Neuvillette told him this with a reason – but did he dare to imagine the creature that the bones in Elynas put together? The fight that the man leaning into him took? The extent of Neuvillette’s injury that even his Sovereign powers couldn’t heal him up well enough…?
“I may,” he replied eventually, a light tease in his eyes. “Maybe a more detailed version can surface in a library one day and you can tell me about that,” he suggested which made Neuvillette’s eyes soften.
Wriothesley didn’t dare to ask more, he already appreciated the explanation he got. But before he could verbally thank the Judge, he was interrupted:
“Thank you for caring,” Neuvillette said simply, now not losing eye contact with the Duke. He still looked pale and exhausted but his gaze wasn’t empty anymore.
Gently squeezing the Judge’s hand where they were still holding each other’s, fingers intertwined, Wriothesley leaned down to Neuvillette, leaving a featherlight kiss on his forehead.
“Of course.”