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The rain never stopped in Fontaine.
Anyone present during that infamous trial knew this was no coincidence, and that an old childhood rhyme actually had some shocking truth to it. But Neuvillette had little idea that his people were apparently aware of the confusion and longing he desperately tried to hide.
His limited understanding of himself and human emotions was not to blame here. In fact, he’d deepened his familiarity with these concepts more than ever, but then again, that was only because of her . Ever since Furina gave up her Archon status and left the Palais Mermonia, Neuvillette started feeling restless, with not even the restructuring of the whole court system enough to keep his mind busy.
While working, he often found himself remembering their old conversations and little notes she would leave for him during his absences.
‘You should follow my example and go out more often. You need to get to know your people better!’
So he did. The former Iudex who previously so rarely made a public appearance could now be found strolling the streets of the Court of Fontaine, talking with the townspeople, leading to his deepening understanding of human emotions.
So no, it’s not that he misunderstood the people empathizing with his suffering and showing concern; it’s that he was so eaten up by it to pay attention to anyone or anything around him.
Neuvillette didn’t notice, not even when a certain pink-haired journalist would put down her notepad and reassure him that whatever he said would be “off-record” when she not-so-casually asked how he was doing.
He didn’t notice how unusual it was that the Duke of Meropide himself began coming for more frequent visits to the Palais, tea packages in hand, dragged along by Sigewinne with a barely-concealed look of anxiety on her face. And when he asked Wriothesley of the reason behind their visit, he would shrug and tell him the Fortress wasn’t so busy, which, Neuvillette supposed, was true.
He didn’t even notice that the three orphans from the House of the Hearth and the president of the Spina di Rosula had been taking it upon themselves to deal with minor disputes and commissions of the citizens before the news could even fall upon Neuvillette’s ears, effectively reducing the work he had to do by a considerable amount.
One could’ve still made excuses for his failure to notice the growing suspicions of the people around him. But it was the fact that Neuvillette didn’t even notice his own changing behavior that roused these suspicions in the first place.
He didn’t notice himself frequently interrupting his work to call the Melusine on duty to check on Furina to see if she needed anything. He didn’t notice himself perking up whenever someone knocked on his office door, nor his mild but bitter disappointment to see that it wasn’t her barging in to demand he accompany her to one dreadful meeting or another.
One evening, he had agreed to meet the Traveler over an early dinner at the Hotel Debord before they departed for Natlan. Neuvillette once again didn’t notice himself getting lost in thought, staring at a new cake display and idly wondering if Furina would like to try it.
“I also said my goodbyes to Furina today,” the Traveler announced tentatively after an awkward cough.
Neuvillette’s attention was pulled back immediately, and it either didn’t show or the Traveler simply chose not to mention it. And by the way his lips trembled as he took a sip of water from his chalice and the calculating look on the Traveler’s face, he guessed it was the latter.
“I take it that… she’s doing well?” He prompted, lightly gripping the table cloth to steady himself.
The Traveler looked back at him evenly. “She is.”
At least better than she was doing when she was playing Archon. The words hung between them unspoken.
Neuvillette let out a shaky breath. He could tell the Traveler was withholding another part of their conversation with Furina. He could tell that it was the answer to the question behind his eyes—whether she mentioned his name to them or not.
The Traveler could tell, too, that Neuvillette was torn about asking. After all, they were equally complicit in the events that marked Furina’s last day as the Hydro Archon. They both shared the guilt and love they felt tied to her fate, they both could remember the look of hurt as she cried her defense at the trial they tricked her into.
And it was true that Furina mentioned him to the Traveler. Of course she did. But all the experiences of dealing with people so far told them that how she mentioned Neuvillette’s name was not exactly the way he might want to hear.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the Palais Mermonia. I imagine that this is good for both of us, right?” she’d told them this afternoon, though it was difficult to discern what emotion she felt while saying this. It always was, with her.
More words were left unspoken between them. Though, the goodbye was not a heavy one. The sun had already set when they finished dinner and the Traveler would be leaving for Natlan with Paimon the first thing tomorrow morning.
They walked to the door and Neuvillette bid his farewell, telling them to be careful on their journey moving forward, and after some hesitation, “You are always welcome in Fontaine should you decide to return.”
It suddenly struck him how odd of a pair they made–the Hydro Sovereign and the Fourth Descender. And Furina, who tied them together, now a mortal human.
He met their golden eyes that seemed to contain all the knowledge of the stars, and felt settled. The companionable loneliness shared by immortal beings dissipated any tension in the air and rendered the unspoken words null.
This was further emphasized by the Traveler lightly gripping Neuvillette’s elbow as they spoke, voice and words imploring him, “Of course I’ll be back. I would love to see you both again.”
Nothing more needed to be said, though it’s not like they gave Neuvillette a chance to respond before walking away and chatting with Paimon about their plans for Natlan tomorrow.
Still, Neuvillette understood the implication of their words completely, like a hand on his back pushing him, strengthening his resolve. And it wasn’t even just the Traveler. He’d known but not accepted that everyone else could see just how much pain he was in, that they silently and patiently helped him in their own way with neither pressure nor judgment.
He realized, painfully, that what they were doing was not unlike Furina’s gentle chiding that used to confuse him so much. He now understood.
He wondered if this was what it meant to be loved.
And like every other evening since Focalors returned his power, the skies of Fontaine darkened once more with heavy clouds. The rain, however, did not come, and Neuvillette felt a tightening in his chest–a calm before the storm–the same agony from that day he ‘forgave’ the people and their Archon of their sins, lifting the curse put on them by the Heavenly Principles.
Without thinking, he ran, his feet effortlessly carrying him to the direction of her new home. He could’ve gone there with his eyes closed given the number of times he tried and failed to do so. He could’ve found her in the dark, in the rain or snow. He would’ve always known where she was because it always hurt when it wasn’t beside him.
A blinding light halted his sprint and he came up short like a deer in headlights. Neuvillette’s eyes adjusted to the light and he saw Kiara in front of him, still in her Marechaussee Phantom uniform and holding a flashlight directly to his face.
“Monsieur Neuvillette!” She rushed toward him and guided him to sit down on a nearby bench after seeing his heavy breathing and unfocused eyes.
“Is something wrong?” Kiara asked, with that tilt of the head Melusines had a habit of doing.
Neuvillette looked up at her and was speechless at her direct question. What was wrong? He had spent his whole life trying to figure out its purpose. He had carried out his duties of Iudex as best as he could. He stood by this nation and its Archon, who in turn had given him that sought purpose, people who loved him, the power she herself did not steal from him, and a place where he could belong.
He had betrayed that Archon. He had loved her. And she let him, knowing she was doing the same.
And as much as he wished he realized these things much sooner than he did, he couldn’t possibly wish that time would reverse. Because the comfort of her presence came with her loneliness. And Furina suffering was the one thing Neuvillette could swear he would not let happen. Not again. Not by him.
So in a sense, everything was wrong.
“Kiara…” Neuvillette choked.
A silence stretched between them as the Melusine regarded him carefully. And Neuvillette felt his world finally shatter when she looked him in the eyes and spoke.
“You miss Lady Furina.” It was not a question, but a fact, a simple observation–one that Kiara said as naturally as if she were naming a species of flower.
“I do.”
A single raindrop finally escaped the growing clouds, landing perfectly on the tip of his nose before being followed all at once by a relentless downpour. The rain came down in curtains, soaking the city down to its bones.
The Melusine panicked momentarily, scrambling for an umbrella to put above her and the Sovereign, but to no avail. Because unlike the storms that he wrought upon Fontaine in his fitful sleep, Neuvillette could now feel every drop of rain that poured–how cold they felt on his skin, how lonely they sounded when they hit the asphalt.
He stood up resolutely, then gently pushed the umbrella back towards her, letting the rain drench his hair and robes.
“Kiara, thank you,” he said before he took off running again, faster this time. The Melusine, though surprised at his sudden departure, adjusted her umbrella to wave after him fondly.
Neuvillette ran as if racing the rain, as if he would be dissolved in the Primordial Sea of his own tears. And it felt like both forever and a split second before he was standing at her doorstep. He’d thought of this moment a million times, worked out all the possibilities, but in none of them did he imagine Furina opening the door before he could even knock.
He saw his own expression of shock reflected in her eyes. The rain came down harder as if intending to drown the world around them. Furina and Neuvillette stared at each other across the space separating her newfound peace from his torrential heart, trust and betrayal, past and present.
“I-” he began.
And to further deter all his imagined possibilities, Furina burst out laughing.
The sound tugged at a corner of Neuvillette’s heart he swore no one else could reach. All he could do was stare at her as she laughed, looked at him, and laughed again even harder, her words barely coming out comprehensible. “Look at you! You’re soaked!”
For the first time tonight, Neuvillette thought to look down at his own appearance. She was right. The rain had seeped into his clothes, his gloves. He must’ve been a stark contrast to how she usually sees him–so prim and proper.
Furina sighed and walked back into the house momentarily to retrieve a towel. Neuvillette was still standing outside the door when she came back and outstretched her hands to give it to him.
“Well? Are you coming in or not?”
He stuttered as he took the towel from her and awkwardly stepped in, trying not to spread rainwater all over the entrance. She gestured for him to hang his sopping coat by the door, follow her inside, and sit down by the counter.
Neuvillette couldn’t help but notice that some things about her never changed. The house seemed comfortable enough and she obviously put in effort to make it her own. Even her familiars were pacing the room, following her around as she poured him a glass of water. He couldn’t help his endearing smile that followed.
He also couldn’t help but notice that she was dressed and remembered that she opened the door before he even knocked.
“...Were you about to go somewhere?”
Furina, her back still turned to him, flinched ever so minutely. A frantic energy seemed to take over her next movements, so discreet he doubted anyone else but him would notice.
“Of course! I was going for a walk!” She said proudly, and the frantic energy began to diffuse.
“In the rain?”
Furina froze for what felt like a long time, then walked up to him as if she didn’t hear his question. And just when Neuvillette thought she wouldn’t answer, she took the towel from him and draped it over his head, covering his eyes.
“....I told you not to cry,” she whispered, all the previous energy drained from her voice.
Neuvillette was already having trouble keeping up with her mood, so her words felt like a straight punch to the gut. He wrestled her a little to uncover his eyes, but she kept her hands firm on the towel and held it down. Eventually, he caught her hands and the towel fell to the floor between them.
Furina always had ways to surprise him, it seemed. Even now. Her expression as she looked at him was both fond and indignant, her eyes both searching and wavering. It was as if he was looking at the Furina he had known for 500 years, the Furina he made cry in court, and the Focalors who sacrificed herself and gave back his power… the same Focalors who told him not to cry.
After seeing her trying and failing to control her expression in front of him, it was Neuvillette’s turn to laugh. His laugh was a rare sound–deep, full, and true.
Furina feigned annoyance and gently pulled her hands away from his grasp, sitting down next to him with a dramatic sigh as the guests of the Salon Solitaire took their seats at the table as if already knowing what she would say next.
“Tea and cake?”
“Of course.”
Needless to say, the skies in Fontaine were so clear that night that one could even see the stars and Celestia beyond.