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it's been two months since furina's sham has been exposed. she feels like her brain is still stuck way before the trial. her mind still loops with thoughts that she's still on stage, still dancing an endless play that her body knows all the steps to, that she's memorized, each footstep landing in a comforting pain that it will land again. that everything is going as it always did, and always will.
she's not on the stage anymore. she's not even in the theater anymore. she's sitting in a bed that would be too firm for the one in her old room, with more stuffed animals she'd never allowed herself to have, because she had a play to act, to be the aloof bright divine she was told to be.
furina stares up at her ceiling, the lights off and the curtains drawn. the ceiling is stucco. she tries counting the bumps on the ceiling but she gets mixed up after 279. was she on 278 or already onto 280?
like this, furina thinks, she is slowly dying. rotting in the bed that is too firm for someone she used to be. she closes her eyes and thinks that dying slowly fits her. for someone who had to put on a show for five hundred years, her end, too, will be slow and painful.
she rolls over to her side. her stomach growls and her abdomen hurts. she has to make her own food, no longer served anything she wants on a silver platter.
she's all alone. there's no one in the house but her, in the dark room where she decides she might as well die.
waves of nausea hit her, making her gag. she drags herself up and out from beneath the comforter.
she brings a stuffie that looks like a dolphin with her, the soft fur of it rubbing onto her bare fingers. (she wasn't allowed to touch worldly things as her parade of an archon.)
she turns on a lamp in the kitchen. the blinds are closed, and the oven cold. the house creaks with the wind and rain outside. while pouring water into a pot, she wonders if it's neuvillette crying or the natural water cycle.
monsieur neuvillette, she corrects in her head. he's no longer my friend. he's taken my place.
furina thinks that thought should have made her happy, or even sad she lost a close friend, but in reality she just feels numbness. like she's looking out of a window at all the people walking by, and neuvillette is one of them, walking away. like she can't even bring herself to care.
she once was the beloved leader of a nation. an idol, a star, an idiot for believing she could ever be happy in such a role. she begged for the day she could be free from the shackles of the play, that seemed to stretch into infinity.
the water bubbles on the stove, pasta billowing with the water. furina decides that maybe being free doesn't mean anything when she doesn't even know what she is anymore.
she dumps the hot water into the sink and doesn't flinch when the water sprays onto her arm, or when the steam burns her fingers. she feels the pain from another body. from another world entirely.
furina realizes, belatedly, that she's going through the motions again. that, perhaps even though everything has changed, she hasn't. she doesn't leave the house neuvillette provided. she doesn't talk to anyone unless she has to, and she still feels entirely alone. she still feels like she's putting on a show for everyone to see.
she eats her macaroni but it tastes like nothing, and furina thinks that maybe the rest of her life will be this way.
furina awakes to someone ringing her doorbell.
no one visits her, unless she calls someone to deliver groceries because she can't even force herself to get out of bed, but she doesn't think she's ordered anything today.
she puts on her slippers, and grabs a teddy bear that's wearing a princess dress, something she's been doing a lot lately, she thinks while descending the stairs. bringing a stuffie with her when she feels alone.
she sets the bear on the table near the door and looks into the peep hole. she has to stand on her tippy toes to see through it.
monsieur neuvillette stands between the wilting flowers that stand guard on her doorstep. he's pouring water into one of them, hydro from his fingertips making a little rainshower into the pot of dying daisies.
furina sucks in her breath. she hasn't seen anyone in months. let alone monsieur neuvillette.
she hasn't seen him since the trial.
tears prick her eyes. she's in a dirty nightgown because she keeps forgetting to wash her clothes. her hair is tied back because it's greasy since she hasn't been able to bring herself to shower for days. she's gained weight because she only eats pasta.
furina looks how she feels: horrid. and it's no state to greet the iudex of the court of fontaine. but there's another ring of the doorbell. it rings in her head and she feels like she's back on the stage. she feels like she's a puppet with no strings. she feels too fake and ugly for this.
furina opens the door before neuvillette can ring again. without thinking.
monsieur neuvillette’s eyes widened by a fraction and his thin lips pressed together, if only slightly.
for having known monsieur neuvillette for centuries, she's very good at reading his minute reactions.
“greetings, monsieur neuvillette. what brings you to my humble home?” furina says, mostly just to get this over with so she can go back to bed and wallow in her own misery.
neuvillette takes a step forward, a little timid, before nodding his head in a greeting.
“good afternoon, madam furina,” he says, and furina wonders if it really is already the afternoon. the back of her mind stings when she hears him say madam instead of lady, but she reminds herself that this is what she wanted.
“i just wanted to personally visit to see how you're doing, since i had some spare time.”
the weight of centuries hits her again, and all furina feels is overwhelming exhaustion. she's tired. she wants to sleep and never wake up again.
“come in, monsieur,” she says instead. she cannot hide from neuvillette anymore.
he will see how hopeless she is and abandon her for good, just like how he should have a long, long time ago.
she leads him to the living room, which is messy and there's stacks of books all over the coffee table. furina turns on the lights and tries to forget how they remind her of stage lights.
monsieur neuvillette sits on the couch and his graceful beauty starkly contrasts the dingy mess of furina's home.
furina sits down beside neuvillette and holds a pillow to her chest as if it will shield her from his judgment.
neuvillette speaks first. “how have you been?”
furina wants to laugh. he can see the room around him. he can see how furina looks.
“I'm fine,” she lies through her teeth.
neuvillette’s eyes narrow minisculely and they flicker to where a seahorse plush on the floor, abandoned and lifeless.
an awkward silence spreads out between them and furina regrets letting an important person like the dragon sovereign into her ruinous home.
“i see,” neuvillette says. “do you mind if i make tea?”
furina's eyes widened, an unabashed shock crossing her face.
“i don't mind, monsieur, but i don't have a large tea selection like at the palais…”
neuvillette is already walking to the kitchen, and it's all furina can do to follow him like a lost puppy.
she sits at the table, and watches the fucking iudex of the court of fontaine make tea from the meager leaves in her pantry without a hitch. it's giving her whiplash, how he's so comfortable in her small kitchen, while she's still dressed in her nightgown, clutching the pillow, with bags under her eyes.
he sits down in front of her, gently placing the platter of tea between them.
“apologies, but i couldn't find any pastries to accompany the tea,” neuvillette says, with guilt in his voice.
furina gawks. “i… haven't been able to go out and buy any lately.”
neuvillette frowns and takes a sip of his tea. furina mirrors him. it's sweet, just how she likes it. neuvillette looks at her with a glimmer in eyes, and gives a small smile.
she feels tears prick her eyes. she doesn't deserve this. she doesn't deserve his kindness after lying to him for so, so long.
“are you angry?” she blurts, and immediately regrets it. her stupid big mouth.
neuvillette raises an eyebrow. “what for?”
furina's face contorts. for anything, for everything. “for lying. that i was the archon. for anything, gods, why aren't you upset at me?!”
neuvillette’s eyebrows furrow, and he's frowning. stupid girl, she thinks, you're not the archon anymore. you can't have the audacity with nothing to back it up. but the back of her mind is screaming to know. that she wants anything, any emotion that isn't pity or disappointment.
“no,” neuvillette says, looking down into his teacup. “not at all.”
furina chokes back a sob. “why not!? you didn't deserve being lied to for so long!”
she can't hide the emotions in her voice anymore. she can't hide anything anymore. centuries of remorse and guilt pile up, and now she's mortal, she can't bottle them up anymore for the sake of her mission.
neuvillette closes his eyes. “you didn't deserve it either.”
tears stream down furina's face, hot like boiling water. she feels like she's just a little kid. she feels like she's older than the world. “what?”
“you didn't deserve centuries of masquerading when you never asked to,” neuvillette says, and while the tears blur him, she can feel his gaze. “you never deserved to bear the weight of someone else's sins.”
it's the first time someone's said it to her. she can't hold back her sobs and she knows that her face is ugly and distorted with emotions. she feels angry. she feels hurt. and she feels overwhelming sorrow.
neuvillette is by her side, holding her, and she hears the slow pitter patter of rain starting up. the soft silk and cotton of neuvillette's dress clothes is being ruined by her snot and tears, but neuvillette doesn't push her away, and instead holds her closer, his grip tight and full of emotion.
“i am sorry,” he says, quietly and furina can hear the wetness of tears in his voice, “for letting you endure centuries worth of pain while i looked on without a grace. i am sorry for being annoyed when you exasperated me with whims i now realize are cries of help. and i am sorry, for everything you have been through, furina.”
furina choked on her inhale and she whimpered into the ruffles of his ruff as he whispered countless im sorrys. furina could feel the wetness of tears into her hair, and the silent shaking of neuvillette's body and she clung to him.
she shivered and shook with the emotions of centuries, her entire face wet with tears and snot but she couldn't care less because she was finally cared for.
furina had no idea how long they were holding each other, sobbing into each other, the only ones who understood each other. a quiet calm blanketed over furina's mind, a pleasant numbness after the ache of loss. neuvillette's hand petted her hair, despite it being greasy and unwashed, and somewhere amongst the tears, they sat down on the kitchen floor, covered with the salt from their eyes.
furina yawned and let neuvillette hold her. the rain outside the window slowed to a soothing pitter patter, and the slow up and down of neuvillette's chest seemed like a lullaby to her.
“you know,” said neuvillette from above her, “out of the five hundred years we have known each other, it's now that you're mortal that we grow close.”
furina closes her eyes, which are puffy and red. “i always thought that you were the only person i could ever label as family, but in the end i don't think family ever lies to each other.”
“then it's good,” neuvillette whispers softly, “that we're not lying to each other anymore.”
furina nods. she's tired, her head hurts, but she's finally with someone she trusts.
“furina, you know i need to do my duties, but i don't want you to get lonely and fall into despair. i would like to suggest someone to take care of your home, at the very least, to help you feel more collected. i will pay for it out of my own pocket, as for anything you might need.”
neuvillette's suggestion is sound, but furina realizes while he's right, and she is lonely, the idea of someone being in her house after being alone for months is uncomfortable.
“you may personally pick out who you want to help out, if it makes you more comfortable.”
furina mumbles an agreement and listens to the soothing beat of neuvillette's heartbeat, steady and warm.
neuvillette's voice rumbles above, but it gets lost in the rhythm of the rain and heart, and they all synchronize in a soothing lullaby, and furina finds her exhaustion slipping into sleep.