Chapter Text
It was supposed to be a normal stroll around the Court of Fontaine. One of the new habits that Neuvillette had promised to accustom himself to, after everything that had happened over the past few weeks.
He understood that the things that he constituted as comprehending human emotions had been severely lacking in retrospect. He was on the right path in all considerations, but the amount of knowledge he had gain of the people he had been guiding was an amount that he now knew to have barely scratched the surface.
Humans… fragile, yet fickle as they are.
His mind hadn’t been in a great place to start with. Though yes, witnessing his former Archon’s return into the things that she thoroughly enjoys had been a heartwarming experience, he couldn’t bear to bring himself to meet her after the show.
Yes, they did meet to discuss the booking of the Epiclese. But it had been her decision to seek him out that day.
As for himself…
He has yet to decide if he even had the right to seek her out of his own volition.
Yes, he did bestow upon her a Vision. One with capabilities that he would admit to have probably been more than what he would provide in any other circumstances.
But there was really only despair and regret fuelling his desire to share that little piece of him with her.
He wants to see her. Badly. When he mentioned that it was the first time he had seen her in a sunnier mood ever since she had departed her seat in godhood, he really only meant that it was the first time he had observed her to have had any other look besides exhaustion upon her features.
The sight and sound of her destitution had weight heavily in his heart from the moment she left the Palais.
“Please, I have no interest in making my way on stage once more.”
Her sigh of exhaustion after did nothing to mend the rift that kept engorging upon his heart.
“I’m tired. Just… let me rest, please.”
It was the absolute least that he could have granted her.
The fact that he even made her say please twice was enough to ensure rainfall for the rest of the week. She shouldn’t have to plead her case to anyone, not even to him. He may have undisputed control over their dominion now, but gods forbid if he ever had the audacity to exert any bit of that authority over her soul.
He’d sooner judge himself to the ends of the universe before allowing that sort of thought to even cross his mind.
Their duty to the people meant everything to their existence. Yet, when it came to his duties to her. The one that he should have understood, the one that he should have always been beside of, the one that he once swore to never fail in his tenure of being her one true confidante.
He had failed her.
Miserably.
It brought him greater shame every time he was reminded of the very notion that he was the one who was supposed to have understood her. Focalors, for every bit of divinity she had held, at the very least knew that she had been indescribably cruel to her perfect human. She was willing to admit that herself, while everyone who had enacted their careless judgment upon the human who took all the blame, had done nothing remotely close to owning up to the errors of their hubris.
It bore no surprise upon him, that even Focalors saw through this veil of indifference that the people had.
“Please, though it may not be my place to ask of this from anyone, much less yourself – do take care of my lovely human. She’s suffered too much, Neuvillette. At least… be a proper friend to her. Be the individual that I could only wish to be for her.”
Oh, how he wishes that he could be more.
He would be anything that she desires him to be if it meant that it would be his only chance for him to properly be by her side once more.
Neuvillette unconsciously grits his teeth. The greyed-out clouds slowly encroaching upon the sunny day that everyone had been enjoying. A factor that he had to always keep in mind whenever his emotions had gone awry.
He knows that she’s suffered too much. He should’ve known all this time.
Yet, he just didn’t know exactly what to do to move forward from this unbearable weight within his chest.
His lack of ability to express his feelings will always be a timeless curse for him.
The stroll itself was growing dim. At this point, he would have normally made himself busy in dallying with the daily lives of the people who are more than willing to present their selves or their wares to his presence. Yet, his eyes couldn’t help but to feel a magnetic pull towards that one house just down the street.
But he understood more than ever that he has yet to earn the right to properly face her once more.
So, he carried on with his walk. Remaining unchanged in how he would take no interest on the beady gazes of the people who are once again, caught off guard by his rare presence. Only this time, it seemed that they have recognized his foul mood. It only meant that he had made it all the more obvious from his actions, considering the fact that expression is by no means his stronger suit.
Their whispers were as clear as a pearl’s glow to him. Among them being buzzes of excitement, curiosity, but many which have definitely noticed his apparent disposition which carries over hushes of warning to the others.
A warning to let him be.
The sky only gets darker.
He was just about to finish his normal route before a wild voice began resonating its way through the busy streets of the Quarter Lyonnais. The small commotion bringing about the attention of some vendors and shoppers, before they ignored his words and looked back dismissively towards their activity of the day.
And Neuvillette was ready to just about do the same.
Until he finally got within earshot of the man’s rambling and whoever it is that was trying to get the man to control his verbose complaints.
“Vincent, you’re being way too loud!”
“Like I care! Ever since that useless trout of an Archon let Poisson drown, I’ve had nothing, but misery come my way.” His hands waved about animatedly, “What was the point of having her watch over us then, huh?! All that big talk about saving people from the water only to disappear at the first signs of its appearance!”
The sky only gets darker from then on.
Neuvillette was never one to interfere on civilian conversation at his own personal behest.
But this…
This sort of besmirching of the woman who had sacrificed so much for their sake.
It’s not something that he could just let slip by.
As he approached their whereabout, the man’s complaints only grew louder. His seating buddy trying his best to keep the volume under control.
“Man, this is just about midday and you’re already drinking too much.”
“Oh, yeah?! If that Archon had just cared about her job, then I probably would have a house to come back to right about now!” He slammed his empty bottle on the table, shaking about all the other bottles scattered across its countertop, “She wants to complain about being lonely? Yeah, right! I’m sure it was sooo tough having to be all alone in that grand palace of hers. Looking down on all of us like we’re dispensable wood!”
The woman on the other side of the table grimaced, “Give her some credit, Vincent. Five hundred years is no joke when she had to do what she did…”
“What, to pretend being someone she’s not?! To act godly and not give a damn about the people who are working their ass off to get by the day?! Gimme a break!” He laughed crudely. The frown on his sitting counterparts’ faces only growing as they noticed a certain man approaching their table, “What’s so hard about that?! Do you even see how she acts every time she in that high opera chair of hers?” Taking another swig, he slobbered incoherently, “Anyone can just sit there and be a brat! Being all mighty and dandy with her expensive looks and clothes. She’s got no idea how it feels to actually suffer in your life!”
“Oh, then are you so willing as to volunteer had you been given the chance to bear the curse in her stead?”
Before any of his friends could warn him to remain seated, Vincent had already swung around and off his seat.
“Ha! And who the hell would like to know?!”
Only to come face to face with one towering Iudex. His navy eyes glowing blisteringly bright beneath whatever bit of light was left from the sky. Pitters of raindrops slowly found its way down to the ground. The Hydro Sovereign’s gaze unflinching in contrast to the protestor’s meek figure, shrinking the instant he realized just who it is that he had challenged.
Neuvillette merely steeled his gaze.
“I implore you once more, mister Vincent. And you would do well to not have me repeat it another time.” He summoned his cane with an abrupt stomp, “Would you have been willing to take her place all those centuries ago, had you been given the chance?”
The man can only quiver beneath the Iudex’s gaze. His voice losing all sense of the brash confidence that it had just a couple of sentences ago.
“I-I… Well-,” Clearing his throat, Vincent looked everywhere but at Neuvillette’s eyes, “Su-Surely-, i-it can’t be that bad…”
The roads have turned silent. Conversations pause to heed attention to the words of their ever-benevolent judge. What was a road bustling with conversations between peddlers and shoppers have turned into nothing but a cacophony of rainwater now showering upon their being.
Yet even amongst the crash of waster droplets upon the stone ground, it did nothing to drown out Neuvillette’s growing disdain.
“Let me remind you of the circumstances should you be the one to have borne the curse instead.”
Leaning further in, Neuvillette’s voice was venomously serpent-like.
“You are to play your part as the Archon with no powers of such. Failure to maintain such a façade would result in the destruction of Fontaine as you know it. How long you are supposed to maintain this façade, you would not know.”
While Vincent’s gulp of fear resounded across the street, Neuvillette paid no care.
It was high time that someone learned that her sacrifices had been far graver than any of them could ever imagine.
Not to Fontaine.
Not to its people.
Not even to the gods who sit arrogantly in their thrones above.
But Furina herself.
“Lurking in the shadows of your tasks, remains the prophecy. The prophecy where your work would be undone if the people that you were supposed to protect and guide, would turn, and place you onto the defendants stand to be judged for a sin you know not of a clue for what it could be.”
The rain grew heavier. Thunder strikes threateningly across the Court of Fontaine, the yelps of the unassuming passerby the only thing heard while everyone remain pinpointed towards Neuvillette’s declaration of his terms.
“With this in mind, you keep your task to the knowledge of no one. For five hundred years, you are doomed to the isolation and desolation of knowing that your burden is yours alone to carry, and you are to suffer the reprimands of it on your lonesome. Because the risk of letting but another soul into the sphere of your task can prove to be fatal for the nation you love so dearly.”
His heart ached immensely, because he knows deep down that he would have done anything to know and be by her side through all this torture.
The man in front of him couldn’t look smaller, but Neuvillette wasn’t finished.
“Do you understand the weight and depth of what is asked of you?”
Vincent could barely open his mouth.
“W-Well-, Uhm… when you put it like that…”
“There was no other way to place it. Those were the circumstances, and it remained unchanged for five hundred years. That is the reality of what would have been asked of you, had you been the one to undertake the curse.”
His hand gripped his cane tightly. His heart took over his words. The well of regret that he has yet to find an outlet for breaking out in full force.
“Now I do hope that you understand that none of these circumstances have been superficial by any means. Furina sacrificed five hundred years of her life to playing a part that saved us all. All the while, unable to confide, even for the briefest of moments, to anyone about the struggles of her task.” Neuvillette almost growled. Even the coming thunderstorm did nothing to diminish the anger in his voice, “Her god impart her nothing of clue, and of equal absence in power. If she had all the power in the world, she would have stopped at nothing to prevent the tragedies of Poisson from happening.”
He knows this because her heart is pure at its core.
“Yet alas, she did not.” He sighed with remorse, before the glare returned within his gaze, “And what would you have had her do? When the world and those closest to you seemed to have gone against you, what would you have done?”
His question goes unanswered. Neuvillette knew that this time around, Vincent hadn’t been the only one he was addressing. The murmurs of comprehension, regret, and realization began to filter its way through the crowd.
And Neuvillette was more than willing to oblige on such an attention.
Shifting his body to remain upright, he spoke through gritted teeth, “She did not have anyone to confide in. She did not have anyone to share her burden with. She could have cracked at any given moment and even I would not have any reason in the universe to fault her for that.” He took a deep breath to hold back his overflowing heart, “So, I feel no need to excuse my brashness, but I would invariably be filled with contempt should I hear such disparaging comments directed towards my Archon.”
Because sitting at her throne or dispossessed of its seat, that will always be what Furina is to him.
She’s remained so painfully strong for so long.
She doesn’t deserve any of this.
Not when she had loved them all enough to take on such a daunting task for what could have been eternity.
Though he remained fixated on Vincent, his voice and message were for all to hear.
Those who cared to listen, he would find reprieve in. Those who chose to ignore the gravity of his words, he would care for any less than a speck of raindrop dissolving into nothingness.
“Be grateful, for she had loved you all so dearly. What else could it have been? For a human to have stood the test of time and torment for so long, what else would have been able to drive her to remain steadfast in her position?”
It can really only be that one thing.
The one thing he can only wish that he would one day deserve to ardently proclaim to have had, and still has, for her.
Thunder struck much closer to where they had been standing, and yet, Neuvillette still couldn’t find it within him to care. Maybe the Electro Archon had shared his sentiment, at this point, he could not deign to even give it any more than a glance of acknowledgement.
“If she hadn’t loved all of us to the extent that she had. If she had lost her faith in what she believed in for any more of the time that we had given her reason to. If she had faltered the way all of us had doubted her the very moment she showcased a miniscule hint of vulnerability…”
His growl returned. Thunderous rapture filled his every word.
“Then we would have deserved to dissolve alongside the waters of the prophecy all the same.”
Because in the end, that’s all there was to it.
If her love hadn’t been so great…
They all would have long perished beneath the gazes of the divine who would only look down upon them without a care in the world.
The silence that followed suit was deafening.
And again, he didn’t care.
Know your place. You ungrateful vermin.
His demand faded towards the realm of unsaid truths. Only ever heard by his heart and his heart alone.
“I think they’ve understood your point, Iudex Neuvillette.”
With a voice that cut through the paper-thin atmosphere, the crowd directed their attention to the source, to see a certain Champion Duellist making her way towards the gritting judge. An umbrella and what looks to be a shopping bag in hand.
Her presence subsequently subdued that segment of his rage that had been threatening to boil over. Leaving behind nothing but the bone-weary tiredness of contempt, carried by the disappearance of thunder, yet with the still remains of the showering rain continuously battering upon them.
It was swift, it was wordless. Just as abruptly as the thunderstorm had begun, so was the exit scene Clorinde dragged Neuvillette towards. Where exactly it was that they had begun walking, he couldn’t find it within him to both ask and care.
He didn’t think that he had deserved to have felt that way. He didn’t think that anyone had deserved to have felt that way on her behalf.
But he could only hope that somewhere within all the tears that were dropping from the sky, even though as improbable as he would discern it to be, were his apology that could only be said in silence.
And whatever it is that she had thought of him to be, and where it is that she occupied herself to be.
He could only dearly wish for her forgiveness.
The Duke of the Fortress of Meropide was never one to shy away from giving the Hydro Sovereign a hard time when the opportunity presented itself.
“Wow, the great Iudex of Fontaine’s very own Palais Memoria…” He chuckled with amusement, opening up the bag that Clorinda brought over for him, “You were really laying it on to em’, huh?”
His silence was more of a precursor to what his response would have been if he had any care in the world left to form a rebuttal. Which was more than enough of an insight for the other two on his state of mind.
For those within the sphere, it was more than obvious enough that the Iudex’s mood had not been anywhere near peachy ever since the prophecy has passed. Though many would be confused as to why and how that would be, the Duke and the Champion Duellist had enough of horrendously alternating sunshine and rain within the past few weeks to garner enough of a clue.
Though in all honesty, neither of them had an idea of where to start with dealing with his predicament either.
But they knew the true core of the matter.
And in all fairness, no one truly had any right to speak on anyone’s behalf.
They’ve all had their part to play in the events that had transpired.
Clorinde could only sigh.
“Look, Neuvillette…” She began, her voice still stoic yet laced with that little bit of softness, “We’ve all had our fair share of blame on the matter of what we did to her…”
Wriothesley raised his hand, “Is an objection permissible?”
Though he had a point, Clorinda chose to shut him down with a momentous glare. Enough for him to understand he was indeed, not helping.
“But amongst us all, you have more of a right than anyone to speak of our grievances to her. Even if you think so little of your privileges to do so.” She crossed her arms, her gaze softening, “Us apologizing right now wouldn’t do anyone any good. You know very well that she would simply wave it off.”
Her words had been sharp, but factful regardless. Neuvillette couldn’t help but to spare a glance towards the amused Wriothesley who simply shook his head, pointing towards Clorinde, “Don’t look at me. I’ve got no chance going against what she says.”
A painful flick of his ear was all that he received from the unimpressed woman.
Neuvillette looked on from their interaction. Taking note of the light chuckles of the Duke and the thin, yet present smile on Clorinde. Through the internal turmoil his heart had been going through, an idle stint of curiosity managed to break through his veneer.
“The two of you… are close.”
His voice was uncertain, and what he had been saying did nothing but to immediately cause the two of them to cease their banter. His sentence had been more of a statement than it had been a question, so they waited for him to continue.
“What would have happened if one of you disappointed the other?” His question was tentative, and lacked any bit of conviction beneath it, “When the other betrayed a form of trust that you once had between one another, what would you have wanted to hear from the one who has sullied their promise?”
After glancing briefly at Clorinde, Wriothesley leaned forward on his desk.
“An explanation, of course.”
“And what if they were privy to your reasonings in the first place?”
“Then we discuss, and make sure we found common ground once again.” Clorinde interjected. “Absence of communication breeds conflict.”
Neuvillette mulled over their answer. It was short, concise, and was strikingly to the point. Precisely the types of answers that he would have expected from the two of them. They make it sound so simple, and he can only wonder if the limitations of his expressions have been the one true hindrance all this time.
His troubled gaze must have alerted them, Wriothesley cleared his throat, “We’re not saying that it would be that simple to resolve your differences. Obviously, there was far more history between you and Miss Furina.”
“But that doesn’t mean that simply conversing wouldn’t solve anything either.” Clorinde gestured towards Neuvillette, “The only reason I am in good terms with the President of Spina di Rosula is due to you encouraging me to reconcile our differences.”
Settling her cup of tea back on the table, Clorinde shrugged with poise, “Miss Furina is incredibly understanding, maybe far beyond what any of us deserve. We’ve personally delivered necessities to her new domicile, and she has never been anything short of courteous with us.” Her lips curved in that tinge of regret, “But she is nowhere near the bright and sprightly individual she was before. Not even remotely.”
His chest constricted itself.
How could she not be affected by what had happened. They didn’t give her much of a choice in that regards.
Wriothesley leant back on his chair. His voice was laced with a tone of finality.
“You should go talk to her, Neuvillette. Lord knows you’ve been wanting to.” He stated with not much leeway for the Iudex to argue, “Sigewinne mentioned that you looked deathly miserable for someone who had helped the nation avoid catastrophe, and you know that she tells it as it is.”
From their gazes alone, Neuvillette knew that there was no other solution to the growing ache in his heart.
But he still doesn’t want to give himself that reprieve just yet.
He doesn’t deserve it.
“…I will consider it.”
Picking himself up from the chair, he promptly made his way towards the exit of the Duke’s office, stopping by the stairs to shoot them one last look.
“Thank you for the tea.” He paused with deliberation, “…And the conversation.” Before finally making his way down and out of the premises.
The moment the door to his office clicks shut, Wriothesley released a theatrical groan. Clorinde could only look on with amusement as the man dramatically took another sip of his tea.
“This is why I refused to be involved in that plan.”
Clorinde settled herself by leaning on the tableside next to his seated self, “It’s ironic that he came to us to seek a solution to the differences that trial made.” She nodded towards him, “Considering that we both had conflicted perspectives of the plan as well.”
Shrugging in reminder of the argument that they had when Clorinde had told him of their scheme, Wriothesley huffed out another breath of exasperation, “Well, what’s done is done. What it is that she would judge of us in the future would be nothing short of what you and I would've invariably deserved.”
Her lips curved downwards in morose acceptance. Their legs lightly touching one another.
“That it will be.”
Even the stroll back towards the Palais hadn’t been without its distractions. The rain didn’t stop, even as he spent a good couple of hours within the Fortress, which was enough for the streets of Quarter Lyonnais to be devoid of barely anyone remaining outside. Apart from the patrol of melusines, gardes, and a few vendors finally closing up shop, the streets had nothing much to offer for his attention.
It was only until he reached that intersection once more, did his gaze flittered down towards the house at the cornerstone of the street.
His mind hadn’t even begun to comprehend the fact that his legs had begun carrying his fleeting body down the flight of stairs, until he was suddenly mere metres away from her doorstep.
The rain grew in volume once more.
His gaze simply stuck onto the carvings of the door. His eyes trying to fixate on anything that would distract him from the fact that his heart had been beating to a volume that he had never quite heard from it before.
His hand paused upon the wooden surface of her door.
Will this be a mistake?
Had his heart plunged him into a situation that he won’t have any sort of return from?
Was there ever supposed to be any resolution to his sins?
He gritted his teeth once more. The tightrope of uncertainty once again placing his heart in calamitous indecision. The vice it had on his being felt much more painful than it ever had.
He was ready to give up. To chalk it off to another day of failure in his repent.
Before an ever-familiar voice speared through the rain and straight to his heart.
“Oh, and here I was wondering if my dear Iudex was ever going to come visit his disgraced former Archon.” Their footsteps ceased just behind him, “Were you ever going to knock on that door?”
He shifted away from the door as his hand fell back his side. Even though he knew exactly who that voice had belonged to, he feared that turning too swiftly would be unbearable for his heart.
Yet, it skips a beat all the same once his navy orbs found itself within her heterochromatic ones.
Her gaze had been soft and solemn. Beneath the pitters of raindrops from her umbrella and the gentle light of the streetlamp, she looked just as exquisite as he had always viewed her to be.
When he says her name, it sounded like a prayer that he had bet the entire world on.
“…Furina.”
The rain softened ever-so gently.