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Waters converging, splitting, beginning and ending anew and over and over at his rebirth, Neuvillette was not the only creature born of that tidal shift. A gift, from the powers that be, or perhaps a mistake- none had record enough to say, and thus, a daughter was born. From the remnants of the mighty sovereign dragon of Hydro came a much smaller, weaker dragonling. Molded by the moving waters of time, she formed herself after the people she would come to live amongst: humans and melusines. Growing with age, like humans do, yet cute in a way that delighted her melusine friends, she changed just as the rivers she had grown up in do.
The people do not know her as their Iudex's daughter, because Neuvillette was always so careful and calculating of risks. The most darling drop of water in his heart looked plenty enough like the humans milling about Fontaine to pass without scrutiny, and he was pleased to read her written tales of new friendships and jobs and endeavors; her thirst for knowledge like a fish finding water, she simply could not live without it, it seemed.
Curiosity knowing no bounds, the little dragon girl, having grown visibly and mentally to the point of being reminiscent of a young human adult, would venture out of Fontaine for the first time. Traipsing nation after nation, following the waterways of the world of Teyvat at every turn, sleeping under the stars to the sound of waves and waterfalls, she continued to learn.
Fontaine grew in her absence, her father at the helm of its justice. He thought he could hear her humming in the waves at night, and she swore she could feel him tucking her in to bed as the tide lapped at her where she lay, whispering a little song to help her doze.
When she returns, to the waters that were her first domain, that felt like her father's embrace, the melusines noticed her first.
"You're back!"
"How was your trip?"
"Did you bring back anything?"
Questions come rapid-fire, excitable and delighted, and she meanders through the streets she had called home long ago with her old, and new, dear friends. The humans' attitudes have changed, they tell her, and regale her with story after story to prove it. She gifts them stories of her own for each of theirs, trading like gentle waves rippling one after each other. One, blue and uniformed, takes her to a food vendor, introducing her as an old friend now back from travel. She prepares to haggle, as would have been common when last she was here, but the vendor only laughs and smiles brightly before she can so much as comment as much, offering her a small snack for free. He insists she consider it a welcome home. She does, heart full like an overflowing lake, and after her profuse gratitudes, finds the snack sweet and moist: a perfect texture, a splendid taste.
The melusines laugh at her expression, teasing her about her preferences for watery foods and encouraging her to try more of the solid delicacies that had come to be in trend. She learns that her father still has not given up on his drinking water fascination, and is mentally glad that she remembered to bring him some bottles of harder to find variants. Waters from an oasis in Sumeru, melted snow from the tallest caps of Dragonspine, rain from the thundering storms of Inuzuma, all line sizable vials in her pack, gifts ready to be given.
Splitting off in their own directions, most of the melusines make like rivers' distributaries and head back to their works, their days, without her. Leaving her to follow just one to the office her father holds, the doors in front of her swing open.
Neuvillette looks up from his desk, and the moisture in the air seems to stand still like the time around them and he stands. Beckoning her forward, the water beginning to drip from both of their eyes matches the fall of the rain that has started outside, still sunny. He nuzzles the bridge of his nose against hers as she grins, teeth sharp with the relief of being home. Nosing her own face carefully into the crux of his shoulder, she huffs to herself to try to stop the slew of emotions from becoming a tidal wave. Her father presses his chin to the crown of her head, tears of his own still threatening to fall, anyway. She is home; she is safe.
~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~
"That is correct."
Neuvillette makes a sound, low in his throat, contemplative. The request his darling daughter has made requires thought. How best to provide her a long-standing position that would allow her to remain, out-in-the-open and free, in Fontaine for as long as she may live? Where, in all of this nation, would she be most comfortable; he knew she preferred to spend her time below the waters themselves, perhaps a diving profession? Her travels had long since led her to find solace in quiet areas, few, if any, people preferred. The thought distressed him, a bit, to think of her alone in the depths somewhere where he could not always be, and he sat at his desk and pondered her words.
Sighing, she stood, striding over to him and once more pressing the bridge of her nose to his, dragon father and daughter as they always were, she bid him farewell for the night. The melusines had promised to show her an opera; Furina had shoved a flyer in her hands, desperate to show her her latest director's endeavor. Telling him not to consider her request a priority, knowing that he had so many even if he could handle them all, she slipped beyond the doors and back out into the world that he so struggled to be a part of. Brows furrowed as he frowned, eyes large and damp as his heart ached at his unrest, he would find the perfect answer for her soon.
~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~
The duke's uncharacteristic appearance at his office certainly piqued his curiosity, heavy boots heralding the approaching human before the knock at his doors. Signalling for Wriothesley to enter, the Iudex turns to face his young friend.
Speaking, casually of business, Wriothesley reminds him of the increasing uptick in crimes committed by visitors from afar. With Fontaine's archon's current predicament, and the Fatui's continued existence, there was no shortage of adversaries making their way into the nation, or, more accurately, there was no shortage of those already in Fontaine willing to take advantage of foreign troublemakers looking to make quick money. The paperwork involved with these arrests and sentencings, that would then have to involve multiple nations' authorities at once, was simply proving to be too time-consuming and confusing for the Fortress' current staff. Expecting the staff to all be familiar will all nations' laws and procedures, and to expect those nations to respond according to Fontaine's timelines, was allowing for too much to go wrong.
"So, got any suggestions?"
Looking at the young man in front of him, young by dragon's standards but quite established by human ones, Neuvillette has an idea. He proposes that the Court of Fontaine liaison someone for Meropide to employ, someone whose sole responsibility would be the processing of such complicated files.
"You think one person can handle that much paperwork alone?"
"Indeed."
The way that Wriothesley's gaze pierces him, ice through still water, seems to see right through him. Unnerved, the Iudex holds firm. The duke relents, humming thoughtfully.
"Sounds like you have someone in mind, huh? What's their secret?"
"I beg your pardon?"
Wriothesley chuckles, a little sharp like his teeth (like Neuvillette's teeth, like his daughter's, are they not all creatures of the water in the end?).
"I hope you're not underestimating the amount of paperwork required, Chief Justice, but if you're certain this mystery appointee can handle it, the Fortress will gladly accept your recommended proposal."
"I shall write up the documents and send the necessary paperwork with her to the entrance. Please have someone escort her on the way down."
If Wriothesley notices the concern, born of fondness and a father's care, on his face, he does not comment, responding only to affirm that he will escort her personally. Promising to show her around Meropide as well, he leaves the office in a good mood, albeit curious. Shaking his head, he wonders just who or what exactly the mighty Iudex will send to his door. Neuvillette smiles to himself as the doors close, a new path open for the littlest dragon he knows.
~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~
Deeper below, each moment makes the waters seem darker as the light finds its path harder to reach. Smelling of brine, salt and water and metal and musk, the Fortress beckons her into its depths. Elevator descending as they converse politely, introductions out of the way having been conducted above by (a proud looking, Wriothesley thought,) Neuvillette, she settles in to the atmosphere. It reminds her of the depths she had spent her first moments in, the sounds of the water swaying outside the Fortress walls whisper to her like the murmured words her father would hush to get her to sleep. Sigewinne greets her brightly when they make it to the floor.
"Do you have time for tea? I mixed a new drink that I think you'll really like!"
When the duke attempts to spare her from what he assumes to be a palate-difference, the Fortress' newest employee hurries to accept. Knowing Sigewinne will have mixed the most delightfully watery and hydrating drink possible, and taking a secret sort of humor in the raised brow that Wriothesley sends her way as she drinks the whole thing in one go, she shares a knowing look and a laugh with the nurse. The man beside her, cryo vision steady at his side, pulls his lips into a thin line as he ponders Meropide's new resident; he cannot help but feel as though he has been left out of a long running joke, but when she offers him pastries brought from above and Sigewinne pours him another cup of a favorite tea, and the two talk like old friends trying to include him, he decides to let it slide for now.
Something he notices, after working with her for a while, is that her teeth are too sharp when she yawns. The Fortress is not exactly the best place to get tired and sleepy, and yet, she manages. Time after time he finds her, papers long since finished well ahead of schedule, inhuman-like capacity for reading and writing and memorizing, dozing under the light cast by what windows there were at this depth. She startles when he nears, making certain to tap his boots and jingle the cuffs and metals on his person louder than usual to give her time to react. Stretching herself awake and yawning, sat in near perfect darkness, her teeth practically glow blue like the plants found under the sea.
Standing by himself, one morning after a scheduled meeting with his new colleague and friend, in the mirror of his bathroom, he prods at his own teeth. Licking over them, he supposes that his own are probably just as sharp, surely, it must be normal then. Catching sight of his hands in the mirror, however, alerts him to another revelation: her nails were too sharp. Thinking back now, he knows that he has seen her claw open letters and packages that others would have used a knife or scissors for. He is fairly confident that she has cut fruits and food bars this way too, perhaps she simply preferred the convenience? Making a noise to himself, he turns to get ready for the rest of the day, shaking his head clear of the mystery for now.
When they meet again, this time for a companionable tea, he studies her carefully as she muses over a tale from her travels that he had asked after. Anything to keep her talking, distracted, he hums and nods and guffaws where appropriate, but in truth, he is mesmerized by the most glaring difference he had not noticed before. Her eyes, her eyes glow the way her teeth do in ocean-light, and under the cover of soft lamps and flickering flames, he can see the serpentine shapes of her pupils hidden behind the soft looks she gives. Marvelling at her, clarity hits him when he realizes that he has seen a similar look on Monsieur Neuvillette, and the more he sees her, the more he thinks that they look the same. Cracking a grin stops her mid-sentence, tilting her head the way one might see a curious lizard do makes Wriothesley snort out a laugh even harder. He thinks he has them figured out, this time, but he will leave their antics be.
After their tea time concludes, with the both of them pleased in the presence of good company and drink, the Duke sets to tidying up the used space. A single tea spoon is missing, gilded presence gone from its place next to the others. Figuring it got dropped somewhere along the way, he puts off looking for it when a guard comes in to alert him to the next bout of trouble brewing. He forgets about it entirely by the time the day is done.
Next it is pen caps, shiny metal bits meant to help the ink stay damp for longer, that go missing. They disappear from his desk, from Sigewinne's, and a few from registration. Puzzling him, the gold has little to no value down here, he baffles over who might be in his office often enough to sneak pen caps of all things out from under his nose. The Iudex's daughter, not that he can prove that theory, has the audacity to laugh at him when he complains of his dry ink woes to her over tea.
"Pen caps. Of all things?"
"It wouldn't be so odd if only I knew what they were using them for."
She hums, and looks out past his shoulders, pointedly avoiding eye contact.
"You don't suppose that they simply collect shiny pieces, do you?"
He snorts.
"Like what, a storybook dragon? Down here? If they were smart they'd hoard credit coupons instead."
Shaking her head, she only smiles to herself in response.
Three pen caps return to their places the next day, one to each location taken from, and Wriothesley makes a note to keep an eye on the situation. No more pen caps disappear.
~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~
Neuvillette reaches in to his desk, about to hand a small stack of paperwork directly to the warden of the Fortress of Meropide in front of him, when he pauses.
"Apologies, it would seem that I have misplaced the last of my paperclips."
"That's quite alright, Iudex, I can process them without."
When the man at the desk only hums and searches the area around himself, clearly growing amused by something, the Duke thinks to ask.
"Were they, by chance, shiny? Like the standard issue pen caps?"
That makes him stop, confusion at first and then true amusement in his eyes.
"Yes, I believe they were. Why do you ask?"
Wriothesley tells him of a few of the smaller things that have suddenly gone missing at the Fortress for no discernable reason: pen caps, bottle caps (never Fonta caps, though), sewing needles and buttons.
The Chief Justice looks as though he is on the verge of laughter.
"And you're certain that these things were not simply misplaced?"
"Quite certain."
"How fascinating. What motive could such a culprit have?"
A sense of déjà vu comes to Wriothesley, as the conversation plays out similarly to those he has had before with Sigewinne and their friend down in the Fortress.
"You do not suppose that the culprit is collecting the pieces? As most would rocks or stamps, perhaps they simply enjoy... shiny objects."
The duke only stares at the man before him, and shakes his head in disbelief. When his duties above sea level are done, he heads off to return to his domain below. Neuvillette stops him only to ask if he would consider bringing a gift to their mutual friend at his return, and the box he holds, bejeweled and shining under the sun, lets Wriothesley know exactly who it is intended for.
He finds her in her office, tucked away to the side of registration. Bedroom and bathroom nestled past the sliding door at the back of the room, she sits at the sofa in front. Greeting him, but making no motion to stand and disrupt the nest of blankets and shawls that she seems to have wrapped herself in, she visibly delights at the Iudex's gift after looking slightly startled and sheepish. He leaves the room with shiny paper clips tucked into his pockets.
~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~
The Iudex has not been seen in public in a wide array of outfits, this is a well known fact. He did, however, have several to his name that were cycled through much like the neverending water cycle, all in similar color. This information washes to the front of Wriothesley's mind as he pointedly, uselessly and in exasperstion, glares at the bundle in front of him, a small corner of a cloak in ten shades of blue peeking out from under his own coat. The woman nestled, practically purring in her sleep, in the center of the pile, does not open her eyes.
Sighing, thumb pinching the bridge of his nose, he settles across the sofa she is laid on to wait, working on the papers in front of him until she does.
She is not a morning person. Slow to rise, like a lazy tide, she yawns (teeth sharp), blinks awake (eyes serpentine) and stretches (claws sharp).
"Ow."
Standing so fast that the coats and cloaks and blankets and shawls clatter to the floor, buttons and chains and pins clanking on the metal plating below, she calms herself to the sound of Wriothesley's raucous laughter.
"You-"
"I'd like that back, please. The pen caps and spoon can stay."
She has the decency to look sheepish as she hands over his signature coat, starting to apologize or explain, but he only grins.
"It is in your nature, afterall. Isn't it?"
At her startled look, he continues, smug and sly.
"I only mean, pretty things tend to seek out pretty things, of course. Like seeks like, and all that."
His turn to be startled comes next, as she replies in wit without hesitation.
"That is why I so enjoy hanging out with you, your Grace."
Tilting her head as if to study him, she tacks on helpfully.
"Pretty."
Two sets of sharp teeth grin through a blush at each other, one scoffs a laugh and the other returns to lounging, dragging him with her willingly.
The box, bejeweled and shining, sitting on a nearby shelf, holds trinkets and bits and pieces from all over Fontaine, collected painstakingly by a draconic youth, but she ignores it in favor of the thing that shines the most in her eyes down here, pulling him closer and nuzzling the bridge of her nose to his.
~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~°~~
The waters above Meropide seem peaceful, pleased tonight. A comforting feel radiates from them, like blankets pulled over, one after the other, from the depths, the heart, it would seem. Neuvillette stands above, and breathes an easy breath. His daughter is home; his daughter is safe.