Chapter Text
It was a warm and sunny day when he first felt it. He cannot recall the exact details of the environment, only that it was warm and sunny. A chill ran through him as a breeze ruffled his hair and flushed his cheeks, making him clutch his thick layers as the cold air began to grow uncomfortable with how it stung the tip of his fingers and nose. The Iudex sat, perched on a bench at the local park. He remembers looking around, and that was when he had felt it. This ‘it’ feeling was most peculiar to him in the way it sent the most unfamiliar and unique sensations through his body.
If Neuvillette were to map out on a diagram of a human body the locations of these sensations, he would not know where to start.
Sometimes, it is a dull ache in his head, but he does not know if this ‘ it’ is behind the ache or if it is eye strain from his tendency to spend long hours in his office reading over documents and proceedings. He would not point towards the head.
Often, it is a weird and crude sensation, an unmarked and vague location somewhere around where his heart is, to where his diaphragm lays. The sensation is weird for a lack of a better word– though, there is no better word. Neuvillette chooses to describe it as an ache as well, though it is not painful, but it feels like it should hurt. His heart sometimes beats with increased blood pressure, but he nor his heart are sick. Sometimes his diaphragm constricts weirdly in a way that makes it weird to breathe– oh, he loathes to use ‘weird–’ but not difficult to do so. He would mark this area with a “?” he decides.
The most irritating sensation occurs near his stomach area, and that is truly unhelpful. The plethora of organs there makes it hard to diagnose this ‘ it’ sensation, but it is the most persistent one and that is why he even bothers to map this out. The ‘it’ sensation is infuriating because of its most contradictory nature. Sometimes his stomach feels strange and he cannot bring himself to eat nor harvest energy from leylines, but he knows it is empty. Then, sometimes, his stomach feels empty and yet he cannot bring himself to eat nor take in energy from the earth, because his stomach feels empty. He would circle the stomach region.
It is truly a weird sensation.
–
Neuvillette was meaninglessly looking through the windows from his office at the Palais Mermonia at the people in the city– a thing he’d started doing when his work became tedious or bland– when he felt it again. His gloved hand pressed through the thick of his coat and shirt against his chest, trying to soothe the unfamiliar ache.
He drank some water, a special bottle containing the fresh springwater of Mondstadt, specifically near the perilous and frigid mountain they’d called Dragonspine. A cruel name. The cold reprieve does nothing as it washes in his mouth and into his throat, but it was worth the attempt.
Neuvillette turns back to his paperwork. There are documents for him to sign.
–
The ‘ it’ sensation returns in the most peculiar and spontaneous times. He is at the Cafe Lucerne, for it is his lunch hours and there is no unease in his stomach. Neuvillette, to the other customers, would appear to simply be enjoying a cup of tea with a light snack of jam pastries alone, typical for any of his other outings to the Cafe. They would not know of the ache in his chest, between his heart and diaphragm. They also wouldn’t know how this ache grew sharper from that point on, though not painful still. Neuvillette would describe it as a dulled wooden training sword being jabbed into his chest, not hard enough to hurt but pressed firm enough to know it was there.
–
He finds himself calling Clorinde’s name before he even realizes what he is doing. He pauses, meeting the Champion Duelist’s stare. Too late to back out now.
“I have a question for you.” He simply states.
Clorinde nods, “I am listening, Monsieur.”
“It is a rather strange one, I must admit.”
“I will do my best to answer it, Monsieur,” she nods.
“Does it ever feel… strange in your chest?”
Clorinde picked up her head, eyeing him quizzically. “... Might I get any further explanation?”
Neuvillette sighs, standing up. “There is a strange feeling in my being that is persistent and unfamiliar, and I worry it has begun to affect me. It is here,” he takes his hand to his chest, pressing with his palm to between his heart and diaphragm, “then sometimes here,” he gestures to his stomach region, “and sometimes it is a persistent headache.”
Clorinde brings up her hand to rest her chin, staring at the wall behind him in thought for a moment. “Have you been feeling anxious or at unease?”
Neuvillette pauses. Anxiety is linked to fear. Fear is linked to uncertainty– and uneasiness is as well. None of these are applicable to him, he realizes. “No, I do not believe so.”
“Perhaps you’ve eaten something poorly cooked?”
He thinks for a moment. He hasn’t truly enjoyed human food recently, only taking in ample amounts of energy as needed because of the unfamiliar feeling in his stomach. “No, I do not believe so.”
“It could be an issue with something in the vents. Mold, bacteria, or you could just be sick.”
Neuvillette realizes this is pointless and that he is wasting the girl’s time.
He dismisses her politely and thanks her for her help. He sighs deeply, the strange ‘ it’ feeling settling back in his gut now. There is paperwork to be done, he realizes, but it can wait for now. From the window, he watches the aquabuses flow down the pathways and lets it lull him into a soft sleep.
Neuvillette stirs awake when he feels something draped on top of him, wincing at the stiffness in his neck muscles. He’d fallen asleep in his folded arms staring out from the windows, he realizes. His mind is still hazy and his eyes sting raw from being awoken, but he turns his head to meet the—
Duke?
“Wriothesley?” His voice comes out rasp and quiet as he rubs his eyes.
“Sorry, I must’ve woken you,” he says in a quiet voice. Neuvillette glances out and realizes it’s almost evening.
“No, it is my fault,” he says as he tries to shift in his seat against the blanke– the coat of the Duke, draped over his back. “I must’ve forgotten we had a meeting scheduled, I apologize,” he says as he folds the coat and hands it back to its owner.
Wriothesley looks at him for a moment. “No, we didn’t have a meeting. I was just dropping by, and it’s been a while since we’ve talked.”
Neuvillette hummed in a way of replying, but he truthfully wasn’t aware of the amount of time it had been since they talked. Many of his days blurred as the years passed, and he’d often focus so much on work that it felt like it had been a few months since he’d last picked up his head from his paper.
“Did you wish to talk about something urgent, Wriothesley?”
Wriothesley shook his head with a polite smile. “Like I said, just dropping by. It’s nothing important, anyway. You look tired, and I did wake you up, so we should just talk later, no? I’ll let you have your rest, Chief Justice.”
Neuvillette nodded with a yawn at the mention of some rest. He didn’t know when he began to feel so tired. “If that’s all, then I will be retiring to my chambers. I apologize for cutting our meeti–”
Wriothesley rested his palm on Neuvillette’s shoulders startling him. “It’s fine, seriously,” he said as he patted his shoulder, “you deserve to take a break, you know,” the Duke said with a strange look of concern in his eyes.
Neuvillette brushed his hand off and turned to head out of his office, saying his goodbyes to Wriothesley.
At night, he finds himself somewhat missing the touch on his shoulder. He wished he hadn’t fallen asleep.
–
The book he’s reading calls it loneliness. Neuvillette wants to discard this text. He cannot see it as loneliness, because why would it affect him now and not anytime within the past 500 years? He does not discard the text. It is the only one that mentions the strange and weird ache he feels sometimes, and that is enough to grant it some merit.
The ‘loneliness’ sticks to his mind throughout the day, however.
“Clorinde, I have another question.”
“How may I be of assistance, Monsieur?” She bows politely.
“I have another personal question, without a doubt as strange as my last.”
She looks at him, expectant.
“... Do you think I am lonely?”
She coughs, “I.. I do not know an appropriate answer to that.”
“Speak freely, please,” he says.
Clorinde looks hesitant as she speaks. “In my opinion, I think you are too focused on your work.”
Neuvillette’s eyebrow raised. “I do not understand how that answers my question. Loneliness is based off the amount of people you have an immediate social connection to, is it not?”
Clorinde shook her head. “If that was the case, you wouldn’t be asking me that.” Her gaze softened as she said, “you can be lonely with the entire world around you, and you can feel like the center of attention when in solitude. I believe it is what you make of the connections you have, Monsieur.”
“... That was very insightful, Clorinde,” he muttered.
“I am only doing my job, Monsieur.”
“I must ask you again, then. Do you think I am lonely?”
Clorinde shrugged. “Terribly so, Monsieur.”
–
Neuvillette was lonely. He had to grit his teeth as he admitted these words, but he was lonely. He wasn’t sure why it was now of all times that it had struck him. He must’ve felt lonely before, in the distant past, but not realized it?
Neuvillette discarded the thought. Little point in trying to make logic out of human emotion.
Still, he didn’t know what to do with this new revelation. It only earned him a bruise on his ego with each admission, and nothing resembling a cure. Still, the ache persisted in his chest and so did he.
It had begun to drizzle in the city, so he enjoyed the soft patter of the rain as he headed to work. The rain soothed the ache sometimes.
–
He wanted answers. The ache in his chest had grown to an irritable one with each pulse of his heart reminding him of the consistently weird sensation within his core. Neuvillette had little options, two to be exact.
He could consult Wriothesley, of course. The Duke was intelligent, cunning, clever, and the sharp tongue laid in his mouth could surely carve some answers out of him if need be.
Navia was the other option. She was intelligent, and so carefully human. She cried often, she laughed loudly, she grieved solemnly, and she lived. Comprehending her was hard sometimes, and Neuvillette could still remember seeing the unmistakable blonde haired child running through the streets with Clorinde.
He smiled softly. Even fate dictated that those two wouldn’t be lonely. Neuvillette only wished he could also be granted that mercy.
Wriothesley was the best option, he deduced. He couldn’t give a reason why, but he realized he had no one to explain himself to. Perks of being the Chief Justice.
“Goodnight, Sedene. Have a wonderful evening, I will see you tomorrow,” he nodded towards the melusine.
She waved back happily. “Goodnight, Monsieur Neuvillette! Have a safe trip!”
Neuvillette bowed his head, before turning back on the road. The trip to the Fortress was long and tedious, and if anyone were to pick up on the leftover traces of teleportation magic, Neuvillette would remain oblivious to it all.
It had begun to rain, however, so he chose to savor the walk. Neuvillette walked casually to the lift, then to the hub for all of the aquabuses. He talked with the melusine along the aquabus ride, inquiring about her struggles with adapting to human society or not. In turn, she asked about the court’s proceedings after all that happened, and Neuvillette hummed a reply happily. The rain pattered softly against his face and Neuvillette relished in it because it was natural rainfall, and it had begun to grow rare in recent times. Under the rain, the water washed away the ache.
–
The entrance to the Fortress of Meropide smelled of damp moss and iron, making Neuvillette wince as the last scents of rain were washed away from him by the heavy air of the underworld. Neuvillette walked past the receptionist and security, ignoring their questioning stares and striding past the whispers from inmates. He’d sentenced nearly every single person down here, so he was used to it.
Neuvillette found his way to the Duke’s office after some time, finding it convenient that it placed itself right in the middle of the structure. Perhaps a bit too on-the-nose for his taste, but who was he to judge?
knock knock
“ Come in,” Wriothesley’s voice called from behind the door. Neuvillette opened it carefully, wincing at the awful creaking noise of the metal. The humidity down here couldn’t possibly be enjoyable for anyone other than Neuvillette himself, he imagined.
“Greetings, Wriothesley,” he politely nodded.
“Oh, Neuvillette! What brings me the pleasure of having our Chief Justice over to the humble abode of Meropide?” Wriothesley said with a smile. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes, some tea would be nice, if it isn’t a problem,” Neuvillette replied. “I came because… I have a question.”
“Hm?” Wriothesley turned his head in curiosity from where he was handling the kettle. “I can’t guarantee I can answer it, but ask away, Monsieur.”
Neuvillette sat down on the chair across the Duke’s desk. “I’d rather discuss this over tea, if you don’t mind.”
Wriothesley huffed. “You’ll stay long enough to actually finish your cup this time, right? I even brought out my favorite blend, you know.”
Soon enough, the tea brewed and Neuvillette grabbed the cup from the Duke’s hands, relishing in its warmth. A sharp pang of guilt drove the blade in his chest deeper, though Neuvillette’s composure was too refined to let it be shown. He blew on the cup casually. “Yes, I’ll be staying this time, my duties for the day are done. If you do not mind, what is this blend that you like so much?”
“Oolong, with a side of mint blended in. Pretty rare to get, so I settle on using it for only the most special occasions,” Wriothesley drawled with his cheeky smile as he settled down on his chair.
Neuvillette huffed, a small smile finding its way onto his face. Strangely enough, he’d almost forgotten the ache in his chest until he remembered what he’d even come here for, and sipping Oolong tea was certainly not his plan.
“What did you want to discuss with me when you came to the Palais Mermonia today?”
“Is that what you came down to ask, or are you just curious?” Wriothesley asked.
“Just curious, of course.”
“I just wanted to see if you wanted to get something to eat, but you looked tired so I didn’t wanna disturb you,” Wriothesley replied.
Neuvillette’s smile dropped. “You came all the way to the Palais Mermonia to ask me to have dinner with you?”
“... You look a bit too upset over that.”
“I- No, I’m.. I am upset that I wasted your time, Wriothesley. I should’ve stayed, I apologize,” he frowned. A wave of guilt washed over him and sent an uneasy feeling down his spine.
Wriothesley sighed. “Not a big deal, don’t worry. I mean, the offer is still up, you know,” he said with a small grin.
Neuvillette smiled at that. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to take you up on it.”
“Well, that’s that. What did you want to ask me?”
Neuvillette cleared his throat, fixing his back. “It is… a rather strange question. I understand if you do not want to answer it.”
Wriothesley tilted his head, waiting.
“I… I wanted to know if you think I’m… lonely.”
Wriothesley blinked.
Neuvillette stared at him, hesitant. Perhaps the question was too awkward? He wasn’t the best judge of that, but Clorinde had answered fine so Wriothesley should have as well. Except Clorinde is his employee, she was obviously going to ans–
“What made you think that?” Wriothesley asked carefully.
“It is from a book I read, which discussed human relationships and interconnectedness,” Neuvillette sighed. “It satiated some minor curiosities, and I suppose it diagnosed me with this ‘loneliness; as well, so I determined it to have some merit.”
Wriothesley huffed. “Neuvillette, you don’t learn what loneliness is from a book.”
“... Then where do I learn it from?” He asked, exasperated.
“Do you feel lonely inside?” Wriothesley asked.
“... I do not know. But, I have begun to feel something…” Neuvillette said, standing up slowly.
“It begins with my head. There is a feeling behind my eyes, and I sometimes cannot tell if it is eye strain or not. It then goes to my heart, and it feels.. weird. There is a dull ache that used to feel like soft pressure, and it has begun to hurt over time. It began a few months ago, and I do not know why I feel it now of all times and not anytime from the past 400 years. I worry that if I let myself feel this way for any longer, it will begin to grow agonizing.”
“That could be caused by anything, you know. Loneliness is–”
“ Wriothesley,” Neuvillette sighed impatiently, “ please do not lecture me on this. I know well that you understand it better than I do, but I need answers.”
“You’re lonely, terribly so,” Wriothesley said casually. “Happy with your answer?”
“... Clorinde said the same thing,” Neuvillette muttered weakly. “How did you know so quickly? You knew well before I explained my situation, I am assuming.”
“It takes one to know one, your honor,” Wriothesley shrugged. “You look the part.”
“What do you– I look the part? ”
“It’s the way you carry yourself.”
Neuvillette stared at him in confusion. This was another tedious and obnoxious human emotion– he knew well enough he should not attempt to bring any logic to them, but he was nothing if not logical. He carried himself with elegance and pride as expected of him, what was there to figure out about him?
“You’re carrying yourself so highly. You look at everyone and everything with this judgemental stare, always looking as if you’re above them. You put yourself up there, so far high. You climb the stairs and sit on that chair in your court and you judge them from up there, because you cannot judge something if you’re not above them. Am I wrong, Neuvillette?”
Neuvillette swallowed. “... No.”
“Well, when you sit up there, when you climb up and look down on them, you’re alone. That seat’s meant for one person, and you go and sit up there every day. Of course you’re lonely, Neuvillette,” Wriothesley sighed softly.
Neuvillette scoffed. “This is my duty as Chief Justice. Of course I must judge from above, Wriothesley– that is exactly what I am here for.”
“That’s your job. Thats not what you wa–”
Neuvillette cut him off.
“And you could do well with your own advice,” he started.
“I know how you rule your kingdom, Wriothesley. You are the sole leader of what was once a no-man’s-land. You’ve civilized what was once metal wilderness, and you cannot do that unless you do what I do– climb to a lofty seat and judge. ” Neuvillette narrowed his eyes.
Wriothesley glanced at him, before his gaze drifted back to the floor below them. Neuvillette doubted there was anything interesting on the floor.
“Then what do you think, Neuvillette? Do you think I’m lonely?” Wriothesley scoffed. “Of course I am– did you really think anyone wants to be friends with the guy who killed his foster parents?”
Neuvillette froze. “Do you think this still?”
Wriothesley looked away. ‘It’s hard not to sometimes,” he muttered.
Neuvillette looked incredulously. “I think you are wrong.”
He grabbed Wriothesley and forced him to look himself directly in the eyes. “You are wrong , Wriothesley. You are not just reduced to a murderer because of what happened when you were a child.”
“I did not give the title of Duke to you out of pity , Wriothesley. I’ve seen your honor, your conviction, your determination. I’ve seen the fire in your eyes burn so brightly, I couldn’t help but look away lest it blind me.
To willingly defile yourself as a murderer, to nullify all your achievements and progress that you have made in your life is a waste. If you cannot do it for yourself, then do it for me. If you cannot trust yourself, then trust me to trust you, for the both of us…”
Wriothesley blinked incredulously, a faint blush dusting his cheekbones. “Neuvillette I–”
“No, you are wrong because I want to be your friend,”
Wriothesley stammered, blinking away what looked to be tears. Or perhaps the dust had finally gotten to him. Neuvillette thought he needed to do a better job sweeping down here.
Wriothesley looked at him through his eyelashes. “You still hav– ahen, haven’t answered my question, you know,” he muttered weakly.
“What was your question?”
“You only told me about your duties, never what you wanted. Tell me. Monsieur, what do you want?”
“I… I think I would like to have a friend,” Neuvillette muttered. “Perhaps you could be mine?”
Wriothesley scoffed. “Friends don’t lean in towards each other like this.
Only then did Neuvillette realize how close he was to Wriothesley’s face. Even more so when Wriothesley grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and tugged him firmly until their lips clashed. Neuvillette didn’t know what happened after, only that his body took over for what felt right.
“M-mm,” Neuvillette moaned when Wriothesley slipped his tongue in, sliding around and tasting the leftovers of their shared tea.
He pulled off for a moment to catch a breath, leaving both of them panting for air.
“... I do not think that is something friends do, Wriothesley.”
“You think, Neuvillette?” Wriothesley laughed.
Neuvillette rolled his eyes playfully, leaning in to plant another kiss on the Duke’s head. “It’s strange but I don’t feel any pressure on my chest anymore. I think you’ve cured me, Wriothesley.”
Wriothesley huffed. “You know that was all in your head, right? Either that or you were having acute heart attacks.”
“... I was trying to ‘set the mood.’ I heard it is a common practice between lovers to do when there is a romantic tone between them,”
“Wait, lovers?”
“Hm?” Neuvilliette questioned.
“Actually, yeah. Lovers,” Wriothesley stated, almost as if he’s feeling the word in his mouth. “Mind saying it again for me?” He said with a sly grin.
Neuvillette sighed in exasperation, leaning in for another kiss. He wasn’t sure about the weather tomorrow, but he hoped it would be warm and sunny.