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Chapter Text

It has not even been 24 hours since Wriothesley took over Meropide. He absent-mindedly sipped on the milkshake left on his desk. His head was spinning with the gravity of what took place. The previous administrator had been cowardly and honestly was beneath Wriothesley’s concern. His mind was focused on meeting the Iudex of Fontaine.

He remembered the man like it was yesterday. In his mind’s eye an untouchable, enigmatic, powerful being who shone with quiet power over his court preceding. Even then, even as a young man he felt that power radiating off of the Iudex. According to Sigewinne the man is unimpeachably perfect and has a vision and direction for Fontaine.

There was a light knock that echoed through his office. Wriothesley smiles to himself knowing there is only one person that could be.

“Come in,” he shouts. Predictably he hears the skipping gait of his head nurse Sigewinne. She pops her tiny head up into his office. His most impish smile graces his face as he gestures around the office.

“Nice digs, yeah? Not bad for a murderer wouldn’t you say?” He slurps the milkshake. “Mmmm what did you put in this? It tastes different. Better actually. Whatever it is, do this again. I will not miss one again if they all taste like this.”

Sigewinne gives her uncanny valley smile. It is almost a human smile but Wriothesley always found it comforting. He knew that even if it didn’t look human it was a sincere expression. Perhaps the most stable and sincere person in his life.

“Monsieur Wriothesley you have become such an impressive big grown-up. I am so excited for you to finally meet Monsieur Neuvillette. I know you two will get along famously. Oh! I have a few presents. I had them commissioned a long time ago and I just wanted to wait until the right time.”

Sigewinne scampers down the stairs and comes back up with a large square box. It is wrapped in a dark blue paper and decorated copiously with her iconic trademark stickers.

She unceremoniously plops it into the raven-haired man’s arms. “Come on, open it!” Jumping up above his desk, she brightens at the sight of him about to open the gift.

Wriothesley chuckles, nodding his head. “Ok..okay, whoa here I am going to do it right now.” He sets the box on top of the desk and starts to open the sides delicately thinking maybe he can preserve the stickers.”

“Oh come on Monsieur Wriothesley rip it! I can make you more stickers. You are torturing me!” Wriothesley laughs.

“Ha! So sorry, I thought to preserve the thoughtfulness of your presentation.” He hovers a hand slowly over the box smirking at the fidgeting melusine. After a flurry of ripped paper the box is opened.

Wriothesley pulls out a beautiful coat, a holder for his vision only Sigewinne knew about and a beautifully made set of handcuffs. Sigewinne gleams with pride at seeing the stunned look on Wriothesley’s face.

“Oh come on Monsieur Wriothesley. With your new station you need to look the part, I know you haven’t been topside in a while. I want you to feel every bit of confidence in yourself!. Put it on! You will look so handsome!” Wriothesley looks at the coat.

“Also your handcuffs you requested came in from the institute as well as this!” He dips his head down slightly to Sigewinne gesturing at the golden waves fanning around an empty circular slot curving like the waves of Fontaine's waters. "For my vision?" he flashes his eyes wide open.

”Yup!” she chirped in reply. “Now hurry and put it on!” She balls her small hands excitingly.

It is well made and nicer than anything he has ever owned. “Sige, you know I can’t have all this material around my neck. I will collapse in a heap of not breathing.” Wriothesley fakes passing out.

Sigewinne clips the coat to his shirt utilizing aspects of the button lapel details. “There your Highness, you look dignified and worthy of your post. Oh give me the other two things please.”

Wriothesley obeys and hands her the items bending down on one knee for her to attach them as she wishes.

“There, perfect. Monsieur Neuvilette will be quite taken with you. That is my best guess. You know my best guesses are always right.” She hits Wriothesley on the arm signaling him to stand up. “Go, you shouldn’t leave the Iudex waiting.”

Wriothesley emerges from Meropide observing that the daylight is far too bright. He should have arranged an evening meeting. It suddenly struck that this journey to the Palais Mermonia is his first journey as a free person.

His first taste of fresh air and any scenery outside of Meropide in over a decade. Fontaine may contain some of the most despicable humans but it is beautiful. Wriothesley forgot things could be this green.

He makes short work of getting to his meeting. Sigewinne was correct that he certainly did not want to waste the Iudex’s time. He looks up at the impressive edifice of the Palais.

It casts its imposing authority over the Court of Fontaine, its position as the tallest building on the highest part of the city symbolizing its importance. He takes a deep breath and enters the building.

Wriothesley flashes his most disarming smile at the guards who gesture him towards the central desk. Two rows of large desks sat people hunched over stacks of paper.

They seemed diligently preoccupied, and nonplussed with Wriothesley’s entrance which he found he preferred to the curious stares that greeted him as he made his way through the city.

A straight backed melusine was seated behind the central podium. Before Wriothesley could take a breath to begin a sentence she started.

“Ah Monsieur Wriothesley I presume. Yes? His Honor is expecting you. Please go right in.” She gestures to two large wooden doors off to the side. Wriothesley takes a deep breath. He opens the doors and strides in.

Standing in front of him is possibly the single most attractive man he has ever laid eyes on. Wriothesley’s memory had not done the man justice. It seems vast amounts of trauma had that effect. There was no other way to describe the man before him without using such words as ethereal or heaven-sent, or gorgeous.

“Ah, Monsieur Wriothesley. I am so glad you had time to meet with me. It seems we have much to discuss. Please come in and have a seat.”

Wriothesley moved forward as if a string were tied to his abdomen. He felt drawn into the orbit of the enigma that was Neuvilette. All words were silenced as he went to address the Iudex. His next set of words froze his tongue. Attempting to swallow his fascination, thankfully he was rewarded with autonomy to move his vocal chords.

“Forgive me, your Honor. I seem to have lost my tongue.”

Slowly Neuvillette returns his gaze to look up at the Warden. Wriothesley is not certain he has ever seen such serenely pigmented eyes. Otherworldly beauty was a term he's heard, but never encountered it until now.

Neuvillette draws the corners of his mouth into a small smile. It feels like a secret gesture. Like something rare and sacred. “Monsieur Wriothesley, if my dear SIgewinne is to be believed your tongue is silver and one of your greatest attributes. I would be most disappointed if I were to miss an opportunity to experience it first hand.”

Wriothesley feels the temperature in the room increase. Again he takes a fraction of a beat, then chuckles. “Sigewinne seems to favor me highly and far be it for me to call her a liar. I can't in good conscience denounce her assessment of my abilities. She is capable and intelligent. Whatever she has told you has been in good faith and I will do my best to live up to the expectations she has laid.” he smiles widely.

Heat spins in his gut, his head tingles with sparks of electricity as the Iudex moves closer into his space. “I would like to congratulate you on your new title.” Neuvillette pushes his hand out. Wriothesley quickly stands and firmly shakes hands with the slightly shorter man.

While he may have an advantage in height Wriothesley can feel the hum of power. Thrumming through his touch. A strong grasp and firm hand shake confirms his suspicion that Neuvillette has much more to him than meets the eye. There is a tug within him that is enhanced with that touch.

It feels like coming home. So right that he nearly wanted to drop to his knees and beg to stay. Wishing suddenly that he could stay forever under the judges robe. Wait, what is he thinking? Releasing the handshake he snaps his mind back to the present.

“Thank you, your Honor. I hope to live up to the title. Based on what I have seen left in the aftermath of the previous administrator a lumitoile sitting and doing nothing would have performed more favorably. I assume you are curious as to what transpired to lead to my ascension?”

Neuvillette regards Wriothesley thoughtfully. He gestures for him to sit as he takes a seat on a couch across from Wriothesley folding his legs.

Wriothesley has just noticed the man has legs. Legs adorned with spats. Sinful spats that would most likely live running in his mind for at least a month. He raises an eyebrow up to the judge.

“Long story short, your Honor, the administrator zeroed out the wrong man’s credit coupon account. That man was me. I informed the other credit rich inmates of this situation.” Crossing his leg at the knee and leaning back he continues.

“It appeared that if one collected anything the administrator deemed “too much” they could suffer the same fate. No one objected to me calling for a duel to rectify my account. When that coward didn’t show at the appointed time.”

“I went to his office and found a mess and no warden. Oh and here is the kicker Chief. I was supposed to be released today. No administrator, no one to sign my papers. So I took the helm. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Impressive. It seems you already have the support of the population of Meropide. Far be it for me to intercede on the politics of Meropide. It operates independently by design. If you wish the title it is yours. I have no objections.” The judge crosses his hands on his lap to articulate his point. His lavender eyes pierced straight through Wriothesley as he continued.

The Iudex taps on a piece of document sliding it forward. “I have one more point of order. With your new position I can offer you the title of Duke. Essentially as the overseer of the massive property of Meropide you are a ranking member of the nobility as of today.”

Wriothesley’s eyes widen, he looks down at his hands. “With all due respect, your Honor. I am not in the habit of taking things I haven’t earned. I have no interest in a rank of nobility. I don’t have anything in common with them.”

He looks back up glossing over to Neuvillette. “Forgive my bluntness but the few that had terrible lawyers and ended up in Meropide were all complete assholes. Worst of the worst.. Always expecting more than everyone else with minimal effort. Sorry, I am completely uninterested in that title. I will, however, run the damned place.”

Arched eyebrows grace the Iudex’s face. “I appreciate your candor Monsieur Wriothesley. I would like to present a counter proposal. As disagreeable as you are with the dealings of the nobility, many of them employ meks for their personal security. You are the source of those meks.” Graceful hands dance articulating each point.

“Having a title will carry weight in negotiations for those contracts. With that thought in mind. I would like to see what you do in the next three months. Perhaps then you will prove to yourself what I already know to be true. That you have earned this title. I would also like to ask that you collect as much information as you can about the previous administrator for me.”

Wriothesley exhales and smirks at the judge. “Sure, okay in three months I will get an evaluation and I will accept my fate. My Sigewinne says you are an impeccable judge of character. If you say you are happy with what I do and still want to offer the title. I won’t argue.”

Neuvillette laughs, “Your Sigewinne, well, yes she has said nothing but good things about you and I see now why she has reported so favorably on you. I am very much looking forward to working with you Monsieur Wriothesley.” Taking a pause the judge considers his next thought.

“You have a refreshing perspective. I would enjoy a prolonged conversation in the future. I am unfortunately booked with back to back appointments today.” The judge stands and begins walking to the door.

Wriothesley feels heat flush his cheeks. He really has to stop referring to Sigewinne as “his”; it was a habit now. The little melusine had wedged herself into a core group of exactly one person he could trust.

He joins the judge and again feels compelled to stand a little closer than he normally would. “The pleasure truly has been all mine, Monsieur Neuvillette. I’m going to do you that favor. I'll make sure to get you everything I can find on that cowardly former administrator that ran out on the fortress. I have his mess to clean up and I expect you will be looking to get him back under the Old Iron Lady’s underwater embrace as soon as you can.”

He offers one more handshake to the Iudex. As his hand is grabbed a sensation filters through Wriothesley. The word devotion comes to mind. He feels an impulse to throw himself prone on his knees in front of the man. Wriothesley flashes his most charming smile, hoping it is enough of a distraction to leave quickly and save face.

Neuvillette watches the larger man walk away. He closed the door and began to pace his office. He felt a frenetic energy crackle through his body. It has been a long time since he felt so exhilarated. This man was perfect.

He was principled in the right ways. He was strong, can hold attention and has already gained significant holding within the prison. There was so much potential here to utilize. One of his most trusted spies, Sigewinne, had already become his closest ally. He needed to pen her a message while his thoughts were fresh.

An uncharacteristically large smile crests the Iudex’s face. He seals the letter with his personal wax stamp and readies himself for his next meeting.

Chapter Text

Wriothesley was a man on a mission. There was a drive to make quick and compelling work. The export of the fortress was all that mattered to the upper world. They wanted it fast and cheap. Which was something he could provide.

He had lived under the previous rule and he knew the gaps in the system. While he frankly could care less about gaining a title he was very interested in impressing the Iudex. Working side by side with Sigewinne he systematically began rehauling the fortress.

Between finding all the various ways the previous administrator had neglected the fortress and providing reforms that impacted basic quality of life for the exiled, Wriothesley was rarely spared a free moment. It had become a morning ritual. Sigewinne always found a moment to stop by his office with a milkshake and his schedule.

This morning marked the third month of his promotion. Sigewinne had swept in like a mini hurricane. She took the still warm tea cup off of Wriothesley’s desk and replaced it with a milkshake.

“Monsieur Wriothesley, you consume enough tea for the entire gardeforce of Meropide.” She stands firmly with her hands on her hips attempting to emulate Wriothesley. He smiles at her.

“Well I happen to enjoy the taste. I have had a monumental task making this place operate again. I need the energy it provides. What would you do to berate me if I always behaved, hmm?”

She points to the milkshake. “Come on, drink up. This will actually provide you with energy and all the vitamins your big grown-up body needs.” She watches expectantly as the milkshake disappears.

“Seriously, Sige, what is in this thing? You say it is healthy but it tastes sweeter today. I don’t have a way to provide you with a family history and I don’t want you dosing me with too much sugar.” Sigewinne returns his barb with a sarcastic smile. It is uncanny how well she has managed to learn and throw his expressions back at him.

“Your Grace.” Wriothesley shoots her an exasperated look. “Now don’t you give me that face. You need to get used to the title. You earned it now. You know my milkshakes are all healthy stuff and love. Monsieur Neuvillette is waiting for you. Can you kneel down? I want to fix your hair.”

Wriothesley laughs full bellied at her. “What, you don’t like my wolf ears? Sorry Sige, those always stick up. Monsieur Neuvillette will just have to take me as I am.” He winks and bounds down the stairs.
“Wish me luck Sige, I will be back as soon as I can.” Sigewinne waves at the closing door. “Good Luck!” She shouts. Much more quietly she adds to herself. “Not that you need it, Your Grace. You are already highly favored by His Honor.”

Wriothesley finds himself at the Palais Mermonia once again. This time he feels confident and self assured. He knows he has increased production, reduced waste, increased morale, etc. It is all in the reports he carries with him.

What he has been anticipating with excitement more appropriate for a teenager is seeing the Iudex again. The closer he has come to the Palais the stronger the pull on him.

Much like his very first visit, the ever observant Sedene speaks before he can summon the breath to speak. “Monsieur Wriothesley, what a pleasure to see you again. His Honor is expecting you.” She nods towards the familiar imposing doors and gives the slightest smile.

Wriothesley will take that as a win. According to Sigewinne, Sedene takes her position very seriously and favors very few with a smile. He gives one perfunctory polite knock and lets himself in.

Before him the Iudex smiles. Oh but Wriothesley would end family lines just to keep seeing that smile. The sun would be jealous of the radiance this man projects. The pull into the office and further into Neuvillette’s orbit is stronger and ever present. It centers in Wriothesley’s core taking root.

“Monsieur Wriothesley, so good to see you. I am pleased you were able to make time today. Sigewinne tells me that you have been very hard at work.”

Wriothesley bows slightly before walking into the room. “The pleasure is entirely mine. I would be bereft to deny you an audience.” Wriothesley smiled widely as he approached the desk. “I have a present for you.”

He places the stack of reports on the Iudex’s desk. “It is all there for your perusal. Production quotas, budgets, improvements all the good stuff broken down month to month and I included what I could piece together from before I took over for comparison.”

Neuvillette takes the folders and relaxes into his chair. “I will look these over.” He gestures to a tea set in the corner that Wriothesley is just noticing. “Sigewinne informed me that you are quite fond of tea. I have taken the liberty of acquiring your preferred types and a tea set. Feel free to make some as I look this over.”

“You will spoil me, your Honor. I am especially appreciative as Sigewinne denied me my first cup of the morning. She thinks I drink an unhealthy amount. I personally disagree.” As he moves away from Neuvillette to make the tea. An odd sensation begins to form.

He feels slightly unmoored. It feels like his center of gravity has shifted, however it is not an overwhelming feeling. Not being too sure about what exactly this feeling is, he places a mental note and continues his task.

The tea he chooses is a smooth blend of genasian seas it soothes his throat and tastes like comfort. He sits in comfortable silence. Watching Neuvillette read in his periphery. Part of him does not want to allow Neuvillette out of his sight.

He is again caught up with a feeling of coming home. A curious feeling as it is one he has never felt before. Feeling safe never existed in all his insecurities over the decades living in prison. Why is he feeling so at peace in the beautiful man's presence? Normally he would be on guard especially around such a higher individual.

“Well Monsieur Wriothesley, or rather I should address you as Your Grace. I commend you on a job well done. The numbers do not lie. There has been marked improvement. The Palais will continue to be one of your best customers.”

“With that said, while you have little interest in the title, it is yours.” The resonant baritone fills the air and pulls Wriothesley from his thoughts.

“Yes. Sigewinne bullied me into accepting the title if it was presented. I think I would be buried under the fortress somewhere never to be seen again if I deny you. I will graciously accept, with the caveat that we skip the investiture ceremony. I find the less people see my face the better their day goes.” He bows respectfully.

Gloved hands slide a paper over towards the raven haired man, pointing to a space and gesturing to a quill laying on the desk. Wriothesley signs his name with a flourish. “Is that it? I’m a duke now?”

“Essentially, yes. That is all I legally require for your status change. You may keep the certificate for yourself and your records. It is now part of your familial legacy. Best to keep it safe.” Wriothesley is greeted by another genuine smile from the Iudex. He returns one of his own in response.

It feels equally safe and very dangerous to be this close to the Judge. Dangerous enough to explode his heart into his own credit coupon account. He didn't think people with this beauty existed in reality. “Your Honor. I’am sure you have a busy day. I will get going.”

Neuvillette walks around the desk and places a hand on the duke’s shoulder. “Please wait if you would. I admit I have grown curious. Sigewinne writes so frequently about you. I would like to converse some more. If you are needed urgently back at the fortress I understand. However, if you are free I would like you to join me for a walk in the gardens.”

Wriothesley stops as everything around him slows. He hears the Iudex. But the touch, it feels right. Familiar almost as if every molecule lifted under his skin, noticing each and every single one. He swallows before he can imagine where else the hand on his shoulder could touch.

“Yes, a walk, please. After you.” He gestures towards the door. Neuvillette releases his hold on Wriothesley’s shoulder which frees up his mind a little.

Being in close proximity with this man has caused a stirring in himself, he can't seem to figure out what has given this feeling. It feels more than simply admiration, he feels an immediate connection to the man. While it seemed slightly unnatural he honestly couldn’t think of a reason to question it too closely.

Step by step together they meander under a balmy blue sky. Breaths of wind slide past them playing with the edges of their clothing and hair. Their casual pace on the stone tile leads them to an overlook. The bird's eye view gives sight of the city and waterways of Fontaine.

Wind interplays with Neuvillette’s hair. White and blue strands whipped about at its mercy. Wriothesley notices the color of the azure strands matches the sparkling waterways below and can’t help but be in awe.

Feeling impulsive, Wriothesley feels in his pocket and finds what he is searching for. He pulls out a small gold coin and grabs Neuvillette’s hand playfully. He places the coin in Neuvillette’s upturned hand. As he cups his hand over Neuvillettes fingers to close the judge’s hand he smiles disarmingly and looks into his slitted eyes and questions, “Mora for your thoughts, your Honor?”

“One can always count on you to break the ice, your Grace.” Neuvillette chuffs looking down at their still intertwined hands. “Hmmm if you are sure. My thoughts have wandered into places a bit deeper than casual conversation would denote politeness to share.”

Wriothesley hums. He pats the judge’s hand playfully. “Come on, Monsieur, I paid good mora for that thought. I would like to hear it.” He shoots a lopsided grin at the impossibly beautiful man.

“Very well, I will indulge you. I was thinking of old acquaintances of mine. It reminded me that all life forms should be able to live in the original forms that are rightfully theirs. It’s merely that… as of now, even existence in such a natural state must be fought for most fiercely.” Neuvillette’s eyes tinge with a shade of darkness.

“That is pretty intense, your Honor. Not that I am complaining. I was fairly warned.” He pauses feeling the judge may have more to add.
“Hmm you’re right. I’m saying that more for myself to hear than anything else.” Neuvillette adjusts his grip on Wriothesley’s hand and pulls it towards him as he folds his other hand over on top. His gaze pierces further into Wriothesley’s soul.

“If you too find yourself again subject to grave injustice, yet bound by rules that are twisted and warped… You must be willing to step up and right those wrongs. If you cannot break free from the eggshell, the world is naught but a prison where you are blinded and confined. Don’t be afraid of bleak desolation and poverty outside the prison, and don’t fret about your stable rations being cut off once the prison is destroyed. Outside that world… I’ll be waiting for you.”

Wriothesley takes this moment in. This felt important. A sensation so special in the hand that held him. That feeling of devotion brought up to his mind once again. Part of him wanted to savor it.

It almost felt like this invitation was rare and unique tailored to him. He wouldn’t forget this little interaction. Until Wriothesley realized his mouth agape for way too long. He locks back into his honors presence.

“Wow, that was… mora well spent. Your Honor I value your thoughts. I would like to think that if I were in a similar situation I would continue to fight for what is right. I uh-” the wind begins to pick up. Neuvillette lets go of Wriothesley’s hand. Pushing a stray hair out of his face. A sisyphean task with the wind picking up as it was.

“You are a man of great insight. I appreciate you indulging my ponderings. I would like you to escort me back to my office. I have one more thing for you.”

Back at the office Wriothesley finds himself handed a well worn hand bound tome. It smelled of old paper and leather which were two of Wriothesley’s favorite scents. “I would like you to have this. It is a favorite of mine. It has knowledge that has largely been forgotten in most circles. I feel you have more than earned my trust, and I wish to reward that.”

Neuvillette watches the newly ascended Duke leave his office. He smiles watching the man clutch the book he’s been gifted protectively to his chest. Yes, this man is the perfect choice to entrust this knowledge with. It settles something deep within him knowing such a capable weapon of a man held his truth.

He had been biding his time for centuries. As an immortal creature the years passed away like Sunday afternoons in a mortal's life. Recently though, a shift in the topography had reminded Neuvillette of the authority that had been ripped away from him and sold to the highest bidder. It felt like that power was just out of reach and it called to him.

He found himself pacing his office more frequently. His irritability was harder to suppress. It was increasingly difficult not to lash out at the endless parade of liars and entitlement that marched through the Opera Epiclese.

When had justice turned into a show, a joke, surrounding a cornucopia of ridiculous laws? The nobility often railroaded poorer members. The Oratrice seemed easily swayed by the crowd. Its workings were a mystery to Neuvillette. He was little more than Oratrice's mascot.

Several times he's had to be a force of reform. Her ladyship had other priorities he was not privy to. Time moved along his table, with uncertainty to his places. One thing he had learned from his vishap brethren was that one mustn't squander the best years of their life. Sitting down, he pens a correspondence tired in his own squandering.

He heard the sound of the rain begin to pelt the windows. Perfect, the rain was a perfect salve to his scattered nerves. He needed to walk this message to its intended drop. As he walks through the City of Fontaine the emotions that seep into him through the rain, anger, sorrow, contempt, hatred. They steal his resolve that he is on the right path and making the right choices.

Wriothesley finds himself back at his desk. Shoving the nobility certificate aside, to be forgotten and sorted out a few months later. His thoughts drift, feeling like he had just walked through a dream.

He could see Sigewinne in his office and knew she was talking. It took a few minutes for his reeling mind to focus back in.

“Your Grace, are you even listening to me?” Sigewinne spun on her heel and watched him closely.

“Apologies, Winnie, it’s not every day the Great Iudex of Fontaine takes you on as a confidante. Well that is the impression it left anyway. Hey, and none of that Your Grace nonsense. I am still the same guy.” He leans forward in his chair, moving the book to the center of his desk.

Sigewinne giggles. “Absolutely not, Your Grace, you earned that title and I will be using it exhaustively. This whole place will know within the next two hours, it is as good as done. You are now Duke Wriothesley, Lord of the Fortress Depths.” She adds the last part with as much solemnity as she can muster.

He laughs. “Ok, now that is a bit overboard. Now sit and have tea, we have a lot to discuss.”

Weeks flew by in much the same way that the previous three months had. Wriothesley kept and maintained order, he made sure that meks were produced with more efficiency. Implemented the many reforms, staff changes and retraining had kept him extremely busy. He took the pockets of time that he wasn’t bone tired to read the book Neuvilette had gifted him.

Within its pages detailed the very first rulers of Teyvat. The contents fascinated Wriothesley as he learned of the seven sovereign dragons. How they originally wielded the elemental powers of the land. That they crafted and shaped the mountains, valleys, waterways, weather and planted the first vestiges of life.

It described the descension of a celestial power that stole their power and crippled them. Leaving the vishap, the surviving remnants of the once mighty sovereign, to evolve and persist within the depths of Teyvat.

To continue to survive and understand in coexisting with humanity to present. The history finalizes with the rise of the Archons maintaining their hold over their elemental prowess with the stolen authority of the fallen Sovereigns.

Intriguing as the book was, his multitudes of duties and responsibilities kept that from being able to enjoy it in one sitting. One day, graced with a quiet moment to himself. He sat on the plush ruby cushion at his desk pulling the book out of its home in a drawer of his desk.

His mind came to an abrupt stop as he came to a very provocative passage. It detailed a prophecy, that the Sovereign Dragon of Water would no longer be able to be born from the ranks of the vishaps. The new Dragon of Water would descend in the form of a human.

This curiosity buzzed in Wriothesley’s brain. He remembers that Neuvillette stated he was trusting him with this book and that it was one of his favorites; he thinks about the man's unusual coloring, build, stature and eyes.

The sound of his tea cup crashing on the ground fills his empty office as realization hits him. Was Neuvillette really trying to tell him that he was the Sovereign Water Dragon?

Chapter Text

Wriothesley is pacing his office…again. It was his fourth, maybe fifth cup of tea. The more he sat with his recent revelation the more it fit. The piece that was still alluding to him was simply why had Neuvillette trusted him with this?

Being a murderer who lucked into this position. He had no one close to him outside of Sigewinne. Learning early on that people were flawed selfish creatures and betrayal was one breath away. Before his thoughts wandered off, he heard an abrupt cough come into focus.

Looking up he sees his beloved head nurse. She stands at the top of the stairs with a look of amusement. “Ah there you are Your Grace. I called you a few times. You are deep in your thoughts. What could possibly be bothering you so deeply?”

She crosses the floor and takes the tea cup out of Wriothesley’s hand, replacing it with one of her milkshakes. “Have you eaten anything today, your Grace? I am certain you cannot subsist on tea alone.”

Wriothesley runs his fingers through his unruly dark hair. He sips on the milkshake as he ponders a response. “Winnie, have you ever come across information that you aren’t sure if you are meant to know? Hmmm, no that’s not quite it. I may have deduced something I wasn’t meant to deduce?”

Sigewinne scrambles up on the couch and looks up at the still pacing man. “First, I need you to come sit next to me.” Obediently, Wriothesley complies. The way they sit turned in towards one another reminds Sigewinne of the many hours spent in confidence with one another over the years.

“Second, I think you are spinning your gears and overthinking. I think that whoever you are spinning your wheels about. And I can only think of one person that you respect enough to be this-“ She makes little circular motions with her hands as she searches for the right word. ”Stressed if this wasn’t somehow tied to Monsieur Neuvillette.”

She places a comforting hand on Wriothesley’s leg. “Whatever it is, I think you should just talk to him.”

Wriothesley chuckles at his best friend. “You make it sound like it is just that easy. I am just a man, an imperfect one at that. The Iudex is -“ he sighs and a far away look glazes over his eyes. “Well, he is perfect Winnie. Unimpeachable. And I’m a dirty lowly mortal.”

“Nonsense!” Sigewinne swats the thigh she had just touched with comfort. “I will not allow you to speak of yourself that way. Let me tell you something, Your Grace. You have through your own merit mind you.”

“Garnered the respect and esteem of the majority of Meropide. This includes the inmate population and the garde population. You have through self study learned how all the machines work in the mek factory.”

"Throughout these months, you've even maintained how things worked properly. Every suiting inmates for certain tasks. Which has improved morale and their quality of life a hundred fold. If anything your Grace, His Honor should come and take notes from you!"

She lets a noise out that sounds a lot like “harumph” which Wriothesley cannot help but react with a full laugh. “

"Furthermore, I happen to know for a fact that Monsieur Neuvillette is impressed with you. As well as he should be. You are the most impressive big grown up I know! Now, you reminded me I have work to do. Drink the rest of your milkshake and remember what I said.”

Sigewinne left the Duke's office and scurried to her own office. She knew Wriothesley was fast on the uptake but even she was surprised at how quickly he had figured out the clues in the book Neuvillette had leant him.

She found his self-effacing humor endearing but sometimes she wished he saw just how effective and special he was. She sighs and sits at her little desk moving over medical journals and pulling out a piece of paper.

She folds and packs the envelope with wolf stickers she has fashioned after a certain Duke as well as some face cream samples for Sedene. She smiles to herself skipping to deliver her post to the mailroom.

A few days later Wriothesley finds himself in front of Neuvillette’s office. There is that sense of familiarity as he approaches it. It feels like a homecoming. He knocks once and enters. Taking a deep breath he sees Neuvillette sitting on the couch.

His usual judge robes are hanging on a coat hook in the corner. His long legs commanded a significant amount of Wriothesley’s attention. Piercing eyes bore into Wriothesley.

“Your Grace, right on time. Please forgive my casual appearance. I can don my formal attire if you’ll give me a moment.”

“Please, Your Honor, there is no need to stand on ceremony for my account. I prefer casual intros.” He swings his own coat on the back of the opposite couch. He was respectfully looking at the Iudex. No, that wasn’t true he was staring.

The way the high waisted trousers hugged the man’s body was criminal. Several salacious thoughts assaulted his mind at once. He wanted to feel the weight of Neuvillette on his lap, and the press of their heated bodies together. Considering even his sizeable arms around that trimmed waist.

How deeply into the judge’s ass his fingers could grip as he pulled Neuvillette into the embrace. He imagined heated kisses and his tongue bathing the long graceful expanse of neck hidden under the jabot. Wondering what noises he could compel from those perfect rosebud lips.

He saw a completely debauched image in his mind’s eye of Neuvillette in nothing but those damned spats crawling on all fours towards him. Eyes blown with pleasure, need and desire, tongue out promising to sinfully service him.

Raging thoughts dimmed, what was he thinking. The tea cart in his peripheral vision reminded him of where he was. As much as he thrives in the view of the judge he needs a minute to regroup.

"Would you mind if I made some tea for myself?"

“Please do, I will finish this paper and then you will have my complete focused attention.”

Wriothesley shivers as he prepares his tea. Normally this would act as a meditation. He has prepared tea hundreds of times. The idea of Neuvillette’s undivided attention is a shot of adrenaline to his heart. I am a professional, he thought to himself. He had managed to subdue the beast that was Meropide.

After taking a deep breath, he walks with two tea cups. Handing one to Neuvillette, their fingers interplay briefly in the hand off. The touch rockets an electric spark up his arm. Crimson heat crawls up his neck.

There goes his working hypothesis that he was a professional. He was just going to have to take this meeting moment by moment.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” A slender hand holds the cup as the other places the pile of papers to the side. “There I am all yours.”

Hoping to alleviate the building pressure he loosens the leather straps around his neck ever so slightly. “Your honor you really shouldn’t tease a man like that.” Normally he had so much more control over his words. In this man’s presence his careful guard was increasingly difficult to find.

A small smile crested the judge’s face. “My apologies, Your Grace, I must have misplaced my manners. I have to admit I have been anticipating your visit. I was looking forward to hearing your thoughts on the present I gave you.”

Neuvillette sips the tea and looks expectantly at the Duke sitting across from him. There was that damned smile again. Wriothesley knew that was an image that would not soon leave his mind. He takes a beat to collect his thoughts.

“Your Honor, first I wanted to just thank you for giving me the book. I found the information truly fascinating. I suppose that the victors do tend to write history. These stories were lost to the wind. I have been curious and if this is an overstep please let me know.”

“Would you let me in as to why you wanted me to have this book?” He shifts in his seat uncomfortably. He makes his icy blue eyes meet the inquisitive amethyst eyes already focused on him.

“Hmm, I believe Sigewinne is correct in her assessment that you minimize your own importance. I’ll share parts of my reasoning. I hold the opinion of the melusines in high regard. Even hearing of your astonishing fortitude and rise within the confines of the Fortress for far longer than you have been leading it.”

“She has assessed your strengths and I am one to agree with her. I find many of your traits admirable. Deeming you most trustworthy. Sigewinne states any information given in confidence stays that way. I felt any knowledge you gleaned from the book would stay with you.”

Blinking out of a trance, his brain takes a moment to catch up to the present. He will have to pay his head nurse a visit after hearing the tall tales she has spread for the last decade. “You do better research than the Marechaussee Hunters.”

He takes a sip of his tea and places it on the end table. Propping his arm up resting his hand under his chin, he elaborates, “I assume however you are looking for an honest and unfiltered response to what I read. To be honest if I were a sovereign dragon I would be rightfully pissed”

“Watching some Archons clown around with power they have not earned or know what to do with. Seems instead of actually working together they fought to the death. I have to admit that I have always had a curiosity about dragons. Having studied Remurian History with the head nurse, I’ve always had a soft spot for Scylla.”

Wriothesley continues and watches the Iudex very closely as he says the next words. “I think the part that piqued my attention the most was the prophecy regarding the Hydro Dragon. A sovereign born among humans. Seems an awfully lonely existence.”

Tuning into Neuvillettes eyes, they pierced through Wriothesley nearly violently. The lilac coloring of those eyes darkened a shade and the muscles around the eyes narrowed nearly imperceptibly. Wriothesley lived by microexpressions. Reading them saved him plenty of times.

What he didn’t want to do was step on the toes of a being he was pretty sure could think him out of existence. It should have bothered him that his very first thought was that the man would look hot doing it.

The second thought was that he should probably be more concerned than he was of his first. He takes a breath and continues his next statement before he loses nerve.

“There is this gut feeling that this very sovereign has been in Fontaine. And obviously has given this old warden's hands hope in figuring it out. Hoping to alleviate himself of a confession. Am I close?"

The number seven had followed him in noticeable patterns. Most noticeably the Statues of Seven, the seven elements, and now the ancient seven sovereign dragons. Time condenses into distinct clicks in his head.

One. Two. Three. He was taking a calculated risk letting this man in on his suspicions. His gut told him he was right. This feeling of being right saved him many times. At this rate he was close to finding out.

Four. Five. He carefully watched the impeccable, lithe, stature of the Iudex relax. Azure blue filaments of hair shiver and rise peeked with interest. A genuine, pure, smile spreads across the judge’s face meeting his icy blue wondrous stare.

Awestruck is the sensation Wriothesley is feeling. His world was struck down and rebuilt in the space of these moments. Six. Seven.

“Truly, you are as remarkable as I had hoped, Duke Wriothesley. You have exceptional deductive capacity. You’re perfect and correct on all accounts. My dear duke, it feels freeing in a way I did not expect to share this secret with you.”

“I feel I have known you longer than the short time we have corresponded and I feel quite sure of my trust in you.” Neuvillette stands and paces in front of the plush blue couches.

Wriothesley waits, the fragile atmosphere of the dragon’s confession floats tenuously between them. He has already tattooed the words “My Dear Duke” on his heart.

A permanent recording of a mellifluous baritone will play him to sleep tonight. Movement pulls him from these thoughts. Long quick strides carry Neuvillette to stand beside him where he kneels down on one knee.

Those sharp serene mauve slanted eyes stare deep into the tundra of his heart. His heart palpitates, beating like a caged animal trying to flee its cage. He attempts to swallow his own saliva down. There is none to be found. His mouth is dry, bone dry, not a single drop inside..

Slender, pale hands take a hold of his left scarred, calloused hand. Perfect cupid lips blessed the top of his hand with a kiss. He is motionless, he feels like any movement could break whatever this spell is and he does not want it to end.

“My apologies for being so forward, your Grace. Your intelligence, understanding, empathy and discretion are a boon to me. In all earnestness I have a request to ask of you. I need you. Please, would you accompany me to the upcoming ball?”

“I realize the nobility is distasteful to you. It is an unpleasant event I must attend. Your presence would make it infinitely better.” Steady slitted lilac eyes remain focused on him invading his soul.

“Yes, your honor, of course.” There was no thought, no pause to consider why the most powerful man was on his knees in front of him. The answer was automatic.

“Please, I cannot have you on your knees in front of me like that. Honestly, your honor, I think you are trying to give me a heart attack.” He leverages the hand that is still being held to assist Neuvillette to sit next to him on the couch. It has not occurred to him to let go of his hand.

“I can’t leave you to the vultures all by yourself. By now I think you know, no is not an answer in my book. Hardly will it sacrifice any time spending the evening with you.”

Wriothesley shines a lopsided grin. A bit of his unruly hair falls in front of his eye. Neuvillette brushes the stray hair back. Warm heat radiates throughout Wriothesley’s body from the brief contact.

Acting on impulse, Wriothesley leans into the hand still outstretched as if Neuvillette meant to cup his cheek. Some part of him sought the comfort of that caress before he could think better of it. Neuvillette huffs out a breath smiling fondly.

“You truly do not realize the gem you are Duke Wriothesley.” A gloved hand caresses Wriothesley’s cheek as if he is a treasure.

“You have read how much dragons adore jewels and hoard them. I’am no exception. Exquisite jewels that I see exactly in you. You are the chosen I've been searching for centuries for. My sweet duke”

A knock on the door breaks the spell on the room. Neuvillette gives an apologetic smile as he answers the door. Wriothesley hears none of it. The past few seconds that happened seem unreal. Perhaps he fell and hit his head when he came into the room.

He will wake up soon and find his imagination has made the whole thing up. “I fear the time has gotten away from me, your Grace. I must move onto my next agenda. You have my sincerest gratitude.”

Wriothesley grabs his coat waves at the Iudex and does not remember the walk back to the fortress.

Several logistical concerns occur to Wriothesley in the week that blurs by. First, he had no formalwear. Second, he did not know how to dance. Third, he had no idea what any of the social customs were at a ball, he had never been.

Finally fourth, he had no idea what any of the conversation that passed between Neuvillette and himself meant for their relationship. He had answered without thinking at all. No brain, it had left and had gone far away. Whenever he was in Neuvillette’s orbit it seemed his ability to be rational always left.

Familiar footfalls break his downward spiraling thoughts. Giggles fill the air. “Your Grace! I thought I would find you here. Come now you should be smiling. Aren’t you seeing Monsieur Neuvillette in a couple of days?”

An insufferably cheerful face beams at him. “Winnie, I..” he stops short, seeing that she is again holding a large package. “What is this?” Eyes full of mischief level back at his own icy gaze.

“This is for you!” She hefts the brown coat box up onto his work desk. Papers he had been meaning to go over flit off to the floor. “Oops sorry your Grace. Open it! I will take care of the mess.”

Sigewinne scampers to collect the wayward papers. Wriothesley opens the box and sees an expensive tailor made suit coat. Sigewinne pops up. “It’s a whole suit, your Grace. Everything you need.” She smiles cheekily at the confused expression Wriothesley had on his face.

“Your Grace, I have had your measurements for years. I'm your physician. I had this suit made for you a while ago. Once you accepted the title, I knew it’d be useful. Please try it on.” Sigewinne breaks out her most human-like smile for Wriothesley. He knows that means she is exceptionally proud of herself.

Wriothesley comes out wearing the full package, a slick black long suit with a silver silk dress shirt tucked under a scarlet waistcoat. Alongside that he hands Sigewinne a silk black tie with a diamond blood red jewel on the center. Draping his curves perfectly the outfit resonates with his broad demeanor, he has never owned anything quite this expensive before.

Sigewinne tuts as she stands on a chair and fixes his collar making sure each button is closed. She ties the matching tie, adjusts the scarlet waistcoat and surveys her handiwork. “You cut a dashing figure, your Grace. Tuck in your shirt properly and go look in the mirror.” He complies and does not recognize himself.

“Wow. Winnie. I...I don’t know what to say.” He turns to see a smug look on a very proud little melusine. “Hmm you can start with Thank you. You are welcome by the way. Oh! Two more things. I have dress shoes hidden in your closet.”

“You have never looked further than your uniform and regular boots. Box top shelf, pushed back in the corner. I had them commissioned the same time you got those boots. I also got you an appointment tomorrow for a quick dance lesson. Here is the card!” She shoves the card in his hand, waves, and leaves down the stairs. “Good bye your Grace!”

“Thank you Winnie.” Wriothelsey replied quietly to the closing door waving back at the tornado that just swelled his heart with good will.

Armed with the knowledge of a basic waltz, his new suit, shoes, and a bouquet of flowers, Wriothesley slicks his hair back and knocks on a door. Presumably that of Neuvillette’s townhome as the address was provided in their most recent correspondence. After a few moments of silence the door opens. Wriothesley is met with a vision.

His silky white hair cascaded down his left shoulder with a twin braid crowning high on his head. Crystals refract light in the braid as gemmed hair pins keep it in place. He dons a gorgeous satin waistcoat colored in turquoise-sapphire blue accented with golden threaded embroidery curved in intricate waves.

While adorning a white cotton jabot decorates his throat adorned with a gem gleaming in rose red and ocean blue. Dove white gloves cover his hands accented with gold rings sparkling with glittering diamonds. The suit is finished with a slim cut blue coat trimmed in black and tight black trousers.

“Good evening, your Grace. You look quite suave. Are those for me?” Neuvillette looks towards the assorted flowers grasped in Wriothesley’s hand.

“Yes, your honor. My manners slipped my mind. I was not expecting to run into an angel. You look breathtaking.” Handing the bouquet to Neuvillette, he did in fact remind himself actively to take a breath.

“They are quite lovely.” Neuvillette inhales the scent deeply locking eyes with him. “I should find them a vase. Please come in.” Neuvillette opened the door and disappeared further into the home as Wriothesley followed. It was not nearly as well appointed as Wriothesley thought it would be.

The furniture looked hardly touched. It looked as though it were a staged home. Everything is a muted tone suggesting a home without any personality attached. Neuvillette appears again with the bouquet in a simple glass vase which he sets in the middle of a small dining table.

Joining him at the front door. “That should be all. Let us be on our way. I would like to show all of Fontaine the fine cut of its newest titled noble.” Wriothesley takes a deep breath and offers his arm for Neuvillette to link into.

“I am beyond pleased to act as your escort this evening. Maintaining that I have the rarest flower blooming in Fontaine on my arm this evening.” Flashing a dazzling smile, he leads Neuvillette to the appointed location.

Wriothesley savored their close proximity while they strolled to the ball. He took in all the small details that accentuated Neuvillette’s beauty. The man was not only the most powerful person in Fontaine, he was a dragon. A secret held by no other human.

Lighthearted banter was kept surface level as they strolled the streets. Wriothesley kept focus on each word so he wasn't prone to staring at the man. After all he was good company for the very honorary Iudex himself. In those steps, they both arrive at the estate.

Normally, Wriothesley had no need to ever trespass on such a home. For Neuvillette he would scale a mountain, or walk across hot coals. Suffering a few boarish self-important men would be worth it. Anything to be near Neuvillette was worth it. Doors opened by attendants recognized Neuvillette and they gestured down a hallway.

Whispers and eyes followed them as they walked the hallway. Neuvillette seemed impervious to them. Wriothesley picks up words and phrases, “brute of a man”, “scar on his face.” He chuckles as certain he saw a woman clutching her pearls. He notices micro-changes in Neuvillette’s expression.

The impassive expression changes as the corners of his mouth turn down a fraction. “Hey, forget everyone else here. I can’t imagine anything they think is more interesting or important to me than you.” Wriothesley pats his dragon’s arm reassuringly. “Truly, Monsieur, let them think whatever they like. It will not stop me from being your suave, charming, mysterious escort.”

Wriothesley relaxes as he sees Neuvillette smile slightly. “You are right. Of course you are right. I simply thought they would wait for us to take a step or two away before gossiping about you.”

Wriothesley laughs. “Your honor, I think a few may be jealous. I do have the arm of the most sought after highly prized bachelor in all of Fontaine. It is novel for you to have an escort. Let them talk.”

Entering the grand ballroom they are greeted by the high marbled ceilings ensconced with murals of sky motifs, clouds, and gold leaf details, chandeliers dripping with crystals and opulence. Linoleum tiles grace the floor. The walls have large mirror panels alternating with painted frescos.

Neuvillette pulls on Wriothesley’s hand bringing him into a quiet corner. He takes a deep breath or two leaning on Wriothesley’s shoulder looking out over the crowd. He speaks quietly directly into Wriothesley’s ear.

“Thank you dear Duke. I avoid these events because of the sheer number of people. You grounding me is helping already. I…”

“Monsieur, hey, look at me. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I should be thanking you for hanging on my arm all night. I have a fabulous idea. I think you and I should give this sleepy ball something to really talk about.” Wriothesley bows deeply and takes Neuvilette’s hand, kissing it gently.

“Might I have this dance with you Monsieur?” Mirthful icy blue eyes meet surprised lavender slitted eyes. “Yes, my Duke, I think I would like that very much.”

Neuvillette pulls Wriothesley by his hand to the center of the dance floor. The orchestra begins a slow daring waltz, bringing their bodies together. They move with synchronicity anticipating each other.

Neuvillette is the embodiment of fluid grace. Wriothesley is the grounding stability that showcases it. Neuvillette pulls in closer snug against his chest, speaking right into his ear.

“My grace, I am quite content in your arms like this. I wish the evening were just dancing. I am loath to ask for your assistance.” Wriothesley’s heart is beating so loudly he fears that it can be heard over the orchestra. “Monsieur, I told you I am here for you. Whatever you need I am here. I want you to have no worries. What is it you need?”

They spin in a circle looping around the room. Wriothesley can only see Neuvillette the rest of the ballroom disappears. “It is a sensitive task.” Wriothesley feels a hand slip something in his coat pocket.

“I have placed a vial in your coat pocket. I need you to get that onto a man’s person without his knowledge. I trust you have the skills to do so. I will point him out. Would you do this for me, my sweet duke?”

Wriothesley blinks twice. An answer bubbles out of him unbidden. “Of course your honor. I will take care of it.” He smiles warmly down at Neuvillette’s pleased expression. He feels his heart nearly explode as Neuvillette briefly rests his head on Wriothesley’s broad shoulder. “I knew I could count on you.”

As the music shifts, Neuvillette breaks their connection leading them back into the murmuring crowd. Lilac eyes scan the room landing back at Wriothesley’s own amused blue ones. Neuvillette leans in, their hands still interlaced together. “Behind your left shoulder, a man with short blond hair, wearing a brown coat and black dress shirt accented with gold. Please pay him a visit.”

Shivers run through him. Neuvillette has been so close to him all evening, it is short circuiting every link to his sanity he has left. He turns his head visually confirming what Neuvillette said.

“You got it your Honor. Please rest assured I will get it done. You go make your appearances. I will not leave you bereft of my presence for long.” Dropping Neuvillette’s hand he bows deeply offering a saucy grin. Neuvillette returns a fond smile and walks away mumbling something that sounds suspiciously like “Cheeky Duke.”

Wriothesley watches the judge walk away. He feels he has earned that small respite and treat. Taking a deep breath he surveys the room.

He starts by circling the room, he chats here and there. Mingling along the crowd and paying no mind to anyone in particular. Waiting for the wait staff, he picks the perfect time to approach his target.

He watches the blond man stand up. As if meant to be a perfectly poised wait staff is nearby. Wriothesley strides purposefully over to his target. He walks past the wait staff (keeping a mental note to apologize to them later) and purposefully trips towards the blonde man.

He is a large mass of flailing arms seeking purchase finding them on the coat of the blonde man. He transfers the vial imperceptibly as he uses his target to straighten himself. “My sincerest apologies. I have made a fool of myself. I was coming over to give you a well met…. Monsieur?”

“Mescal.” He offers a friendly smile to Wriothesley. “No need to introduce yourself, Duke Wriothesley. You have been the talk of the ball. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Wriothesley returns a smile. “Truly, Monsieur the pleasure is all mine. I do hope you continue to enjoy your evening.” Mission accomplished, he hunts for a certain white-haired Iudex.

He is not difficult to find, a radiant beacon in a sea of muted colors. Wriothesley feels a gentle pull like the tides to the shore. He offers a few more greetings as he moves to join at the side of the man that has taken over any spare thoughts in his mind.

Bellows of booming laughter fill the air as the hydro archon herself draws near. He would recognize that laugh anywhere. Lady Furina, herself, seemed to be in conversation with Neuvillette.

Wriothesley was not sure what duties the Archon had. He never saw her at the Palais Mermonia when he visited Neuvillette. His best guess was that her job was to be the center of attention.

Wriothesley fixes his most endearing smile on his face, and slips in beside his Iudex. “Lady Furina, I do not think I have had the sincere pleasure of meeting you in person. I hope your evening is going well.” He bows respectfully with the slightest flourish.

Sparkling heterochromia blue eyes meet Wriothesley. “Oh? My.. my Monsieur Neuvillette did not tell me his date was the Lord Incognito Duke Wriothesley of Meropide. We all watched you dance your Grace. I’am surprised your dance card is not already booked straight through the evening.” She twirls her drink waiting expectantly for the volley of banter.

“I am no expert, I can manage a basic waltz. You are kind in your assessment Lady Furina. I am content to keep Monsieur Neuvillette company as long as he will have me.” Wriothesley offers his arm to Neuvillette who accepts sliding comfortably into place.

Furina giggles. “I think it is simply that the old man doesn’t like to share.” She laughs hard at her own joke. “You two enjoy the festivities too-ta-loo!” Within the space of a thought the capricious Archon disappears into the crowd.

“Well that was an experience. Is that her all the time? I cannot imagine that level of energy is easy on you.” Neuvillette furrows his brow slightly.

“Yes, that is her all the time. She is correct regarding my demeanor though. I do not like to share. Especially not my favorite treasures. Suspecting that you're back so soon and I'm here a bit longer. You've completed your endeavors?”

Crimson shades Wriothesley’s cheeks. Why did this man have to say such words? Whatever composure he could have had left him in that instant. “Yes. I have had a successful evening.” He winks.

“I seemed to have splashed into court intrigue with the full grace of a bull in Beaumont’s workshop. However, it was worth it. Your arm is mine after all, Monsieur.”

A nasally affluent voice disturbs their brief respite. “Your Honor, I am so pleased that you graced my home with your presence. I was hoping to speak with you in private.” A man of average height with a trendy mustache and well made suit eyed Wriothesley with thinly veiled disdain.

“Monsieur Nouvelle, your home is lovely. As you know any private matters can be discussed by appointment. As for anything else. I for one have been greatly honored with any counsel provided by Duke Wriothesley.”

“He has been instrumental in tremendous reforms and cost reductions. His mind for business is extraordinary. I would think anyone would be keen for that level of expertise.” Neuvillette expounds his expression impassively watching the man before him carefully.

“Yes… I can make an appointment. I was surprised to see uh...the new administrator was chosen by a non-noble family. My son excels in his business degree, he'd be an excellent choice with no criminal nobility either." The unctuous man’s eyes darken with disgust as he threw down his argument.

“Monsieur, you tread dangerously close to sedition. It is my signature on the certificate. This is my decision to raise a well-deserved man to his present station. A position that commands respect Monsieur. He is meeting you all on your playing field.”

“All of you have whispered in the corners gossiping. None have asked him a single question. None have attempted to see why I might have made the assessment I did. It is my opinion, Monsieur, that society is judged by how we treat our least fortunate.”

“With that in mind Duke Wriothesley rises above us all. You assume I don’t know his origins. I know his origins as well as I know yours monsieur. In that regard your family is the least de-” A pull on his jacket stops Neuvillette mid word. Looking down he sees a melusine, Liath, looking serious.

Neuvillette turns back to the nonplussed noble man. “My sincerest apologies. I must attend to important matters. Your Grace if you would.” Neuvillette gestured for Wriothesley to follow. He gives the noble one last shit-eating grin.

“Monsieur, lovely to meet you. Duty calls” and follows the Iudex. They leave the gape-mouthed noble to chew on the words still floating in the air.

Neuvillette had defended him. Had been about to lose his composure on that sniveling little man. No one had really ever stood up for him before. Behind the scenes he knew Sigewinne extolled him to anyone who would listen.

Most people assumed he was capable and he was. He did not need anyone to defend him. It felt nice though to have someone. Especially when that someone was Neuvillette, care enough to do so.

Neuvillette was listening intently to the little Melusine. Wriothesley couldn’t hear the details. Simultaneously, in another corner of the ball, he heard a familiar voice rise above the din of the crowd. “You cannot arrest me. I am here as a guest. I have done nothing wrong. I demand my lawyer. You cannot treat me like that! I am innocent! This is an outrage!”

It was that fellow Mescal. Wriothesley was certain the whispers in Neuvillette’s ears and the scene playing out across the ball were connected.

“Your Grace.” Wriothesley falls into step with Neuvillette as he fills him in. “Liath informs me that Mescal has been a person of interest for some time now. They sensed something on his person which they suspected to be sinthe.

At this moment hes being takened down to be questioned and Iwould like you to be my supervision. I'am requesting your assistance. I would value your company greatly.”

Wriothesley nods. He cannot deny the man anything. If Neuvillette needs his brand of assistance, he will do what needs to be done.

Underneath the Opera Epiclese, deep within the bowels of the building were several holding rooms. They were used for interrogations and occasionally kept potentially violent offenders on site awaiting trial.

Within one such room bereft of the normal decadence the opera is known for sat a man. He had been questioned by several members of the Marechaussee Phantom, maintaining his innocence.

Wriothesley and Neuvillette had been kept abreast of the situation. After several hours of waiting, listening, pacing, and seemingly circular conversations. Neuvillette returns from the latest talks.

“Your Grace, I am not normally a part of the questioning process. Neither are you, but I fear that if we further don't get involved. This man may walk and I cannot allow that. Sinthe has had a grip on Fontaine. It is destroying lives and families. Please will you come and question him. Would you allow me to observe?”

Wriothesley blinks the sleep away from his eyes. Renewed energy flows into his muscles. He was needed and it was time to let his assets shine. If Neuvillette wanted him to interrogate this man he would.

“Monsieur, I’ll do this for you. I will get him to say everything he knows. I have no idea how the garde does things. But,” he rolls his shoulders cracking his neck. “I know how the Fortress does things, and I am pretty sure my methods fall into the gray bands of the law.”

Moved by Wriothesley’s conviction, a gloved hand tries reaching to trace the skin under Wriothesley’s scarred eye…ghosting a touch he hesitates and places that same gloved hand down. Glancing at the warden with dignified violet eyes, he is met with a determined steeled gaze in return.

"I assure you. Any action you do tonight is under my protection. I've asked you to do this. I will witness this proceeding. Act as you see fit." Wriothesley nods once. “Fine, then let’s do this.”

Neuvillette walks in first and takes a chair in a back corner of the room. He crosses his legs elegantly. Both are still in their formal wear adding levels of new precedence to what was happening. Wriothesley strolls in and closes the door firmly behind him.

“Evening Monsieur Mescal, bad turn of the penny that we meet each other again so soon.” He rounds the table and stands behind the chair he is meant to sit in. He leans forward on it instead. “Pay no mind to Monsieur in the corner. He is here to keep me honest. Believe me, Monsieur Mescal, you want me to be kept honest.”

“As I told the garde there is nothing to tell. I was there as a guest, just as everyone else was. I had no business there other than basic business networking. I certainly would not have brought.” he looks sound and whispers “sinthe” he continues at a normal volume. “Into the party. I have no idea how that vial got on my person.”

Wriothesley starts pacing. “Monsieur Mescal, I am not the smartest man so forgive me for being a little slow. Is it possible that the garde has an idea that this is a pattern for you? That you are indeed part of a larger sinthe ring.”

“To my knowledge you have contacts? You can alleviate your sentence if so. However the only thing I have heard you deny is that you did not bring sinthe to the party. Having this substance on you is serious. This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't in your possession, Monsieur."

Mescal has sweat dripping down his face. He wipes it with an already filthy handkerchief. “I…Your Grace, am I not allowed a lawyer?” Wriothesley pulls out the chair, swings it around and sits on it backwards allowing him to lean on the back of the chair.

“Sure, once they formalize charges on you. What I need from you is honesty. You see, I am really good at reading people. You are hiding a secret bigger than the Oratrice upstairs. I need you to talk.”

“Just tell me what you know. It is really just that easy.” Wriothesley keeps his tone light, nonthreatening, he wants Mescal at ease. He wants him to talk. “Hey have you eaten or had anything to drink? Give me just a moment.”

Wriothesley leaves the room and returns with a croissant and some water. “I apologize this is not fancy. Just take a moment and eat and drink. Then we will just chat. Easy, yeah?”

Humming a lullaby to himself while Mescal inhales the croissant. The water slams down the table. "Better? Ready to tell us everything that's going on?

Mescal lets out a long sigh. “I… I am not a large player, your Grace. I am just a runner. I take orders into the Court. I distribute them. There are drop points. I can point them out but they have already changed. They change with every run.”

“I do not know anyone’s actual name. I receive correspondences from “M” and “V.” They would detail pickups and drop offs and qualities. I traveled a little to get the stuff. I made a small cut. I was no one. Really I’m no one.” Mescal looks panicked.

Wriothesley stands back up. And begins to pace again. “Okay, now we are getting somewhere.” He takes a piece of paper. “Please notate all the pick up and drop off spots. All the coordinates where you received your correspondences from “M” and “V” and also where you kept any of these notes. I will wait.”

Wriothesley sits back down. Mescal writes as well as he can with his hand shaking as badly as it is. “Make this legible Monsieur, I don’t want to need a handwriting expert to read the damn thing later. Relax, just write. You're not on a deathbed.” Within half an hour written pages are handed over the table to Wriothesley.

Wriothesley looks them over with a critical eye. “This is a good start. I can feel you are still holding out on me. I think you know more about who is involved, where they sell and who they sell to. I think you have more of a stake in this and are minimizing your involvement. I will ask you again to tell us everything you know.”

Mescal swallows. “Your Grace, I have told you everything. Everything I know! I have a daughter, please. I need to be able to watch her grow up. I am all she has. Please, Please, your Grace!” Mescal has resorted to sobbing. Pleading for leniency in the face of the law.

“Ah yes, your daughter, Mescal, you know we take children into Court custody when all known guardians are in our capable hands. She told me all about her governess. Tell me anything about your daughter.”

“What is her favorite color? What does she enjoy drawing? What is her favorite dress to wear? Her favorite toy? Book? What does she aspire to be when she grows up?” Wriothesley slams a hand down on the table. “Well?”

A pale faced Mescal stares up into stern glacial ice eyes. “I, Your Grace, I work so. I mean I provide.” Wriothesley huffs out a breath. A smug determined expression glazes over his face.“I have been patient. I asked for the truth.”

“I was provided with scraps. I asked you to share the smallest detail about your whole reason for doing this, your daughter, and you could answer none of my questions. You are neglectful as a guardian at best. You never thought to ask her any of these things.”

“She is a convenient excuse to continue to pollute the streets with this filth to line your pockets. Money that goes into betting on illegal fights down in Fleuve Cendre no doubt. Your daughter would be better off elsewhere.”

Wriothesley has always felt badly for the children that are left behind. This asshole was a coward. He was worthless. He wasn’t even going to flip and provide information. He turns and realizes that Neuvillette is still in the room. Piercing intense violet eyes are watching him.

Wriothesley thinks of a shark, like he is the one being hunted. He slams the table one more time causing the sniveling man to jump. “You are worthless.”

He strides over to Neuvillette, irritated. “I apologize. I don’t think this worm will get us a larger fish. I also frankly feel badly that you saw me like this. He gave us jack and shit.” he blows out a breath.

Neuvillette stands up and takes a step closer. He is as close as he can be without them touching. “You were exquisite. You were perfect. I could not have asked for more. You are correct though he is worthless. He will provide nothing else for us or any one frankly.”

Wriothesley’s thoughts are swimming. This sorry excuse for a man. He has the choices open to spend time with his child. To exist in honest work propelled on the shoulders of wealthy business connections. He decides to peddle in a product that takes parents away from children through addiction and death.

He turns to look at the pathetic man. Moments count off in his head. One. Two. Three. A beautiful enriched baritone powerful voice fills his mind. Kill him. He hears it clearly.

Defined and commanding. He covers the space between himself and the forsaken sobbing Mescal. Four. Five. His icy stare zeros in on the pathetic pile. “Mescal, you forfeit all rights. You are less than worthless. You have had everything handed to you and you squandered it. You are the worst of us.”

Mescal looks up into chilling murderous eyes. “I…c-can’t I… My trial… I can atone in prison!”

Six. Seven. Suddenly his mind freezes with a force that compels him, it wills him to act. He grabs Mescal by the throat. Squeezing each finger around the larynx finds marks on the veins that carry essential supply to the body. His free hand forms a fist. The satisfying crunch as it meets and reforms a nasal cavity rings in his ears. Held in place by his neck he is debilitated helpless against the multitude of hits spattering strings of facial matter around the room.

Snapping back into himself, he sees a corpse with yellow dirtied hair dripping with crimson stains below his clenched knuckles. The walls, even his own clothing are stained with a disdained murderous intent. It is like a cloud in the room trapping his mind.

Anger was the only thought fading into nothingness. He had murdered someone again. He sees eyes looking at him in reverence. As if he was responsible for shaping the skies of Teyvat. Deep within him a striking sensation grips him, stroking a long forgotten sensation of need. Quick successions of thoughts invade his soul; he succumbs to them easily.

Thighs slickened down his own hand, bodies sticking in unification, graphic images flooded his mind. Before him gazes two serpentine eyes dosed languidly taking him in. Piercing violet daggers, carving his visage with desire and longing. He feels the longing…a weighted feeling he cannot describe.

Raw nerves hammer into his mind, unsettling his adrenaline within. Feeling drunk on a wave of the tense chilling penalties after killing a man. He needed…not needed, but wanted Neuvillette. Close and now.

Wriothesley acts on impulse. He closes the gap between them in a span of seconds. He crashes his mouth into Neuvillette’s mouth. Driven by craven need, he pulls Neuvillette into him by grabbing Neuvillette’s shapely firm ass with both hands. He uses his thigh as a brace crushing him into the wall as momentum carries them forward as a unit.

Neuvillette tastes of divine sweet succulent pleasure, escalating Wriothesley’s feverish desire. Every motion driving his nerves to further lengths, he feels strong hands knead into his chest. Roughly grasping desperate clawed fingers press into him. Wriothesley groans deeply into his mouth. They have not disconnected. Breathing each other as if they can absorb one another. Lost in an intoxicating addiction.

Neuvillette gasps for air, their bodies slotted together. “You are divine. My Duke. My Grace. You killed for me, for us.” He takes a finger and runs it down Wriothelsey’s cheek, leaving a trail of streaked blood. He plunges his finger into Wriothesley’s mouth. “Baptized in blood this evening you have become my chosen.”

He licks the side of Wriothesley’s face then shoves his tongue into Wriothesley’s willing mouth. Wriothesley is drunk on touch, on words, on sights, he knows his cock is hard and throbbing but it is not the most intense feeling. His whole body feels like a nerve ready to crest over in sensation. The intensity of their embrace is palpable.

This…this man is all he can think about..it feels so right, almost wrong, Wriothesley thinks. His mind melds into the imagery of this very feeling lingering. He watches his thoughts, fascinated by them. His uncertainty begins to fade and in that moment he feels galvanized.

He will kill again and again if it means making this divine being happy before him. Anything or anyone..he'd offer it to Neuvillette only. Whatever it takes to keep this …to keep the oh so sweet ambrosia..

A sharp knock breaks their entanglement. Immediately, Neuvillette takes a moment to fix his suit and answers the door. He speaks in a muffled tone that Wriothesley cannot hear. His mind is racing with everything that just happened.

His life had turned completely sideways in the space of moments. His vision won’t focus. His mind feels fuzzy. He hears the door close. Neuvillette’s distinctive footfalls echo on the floor and he is held with unsurprisingly strong arms.

“What happened, Monsieur? Is he…? Did I? Will I be held accou…”

Gently and softly, Neuvillette strokes those charcoal mixed gray tufts of hair. “Shhh, my perfect chosen Treasure. You did what was needed. You were exquisite. A Vision. You are Mine now. You have my protection.”

“You need not worry about anything. This room will be taken care of by my people. You will not be touched. You have done everything I asked and more. My Chosen One.”

Swiftly conveying pride and affection, Neuvillette gently presses a light kiss to his forehead. Wriothesley feels doted on, and highly praised. It is not a familiar feeling but it’s so comforting.

“My Dear Duke, my chosen champion. I need you to sleep now.” These are the last words he remembers as his eyes grow heavy and sleep claims him…memories of the evening fading..

Wriothesley opens his eyes. He is in his own bed in the fortress, wearing pajama bottoms and nothing else. His dress attire is neatly folded on a side table. The previous evening feels like it could have been a dream. Deep red stains splatter the neatly folded shirt he is staring at. A neatly penned note with familiar handwriting sat next to the clothes.

What the hell has he gotten himself in the middle of?

Chapter Text

Familiar sounds of clanking pipes and steam powered machinery echo through an otherwise quiet room. Competing thoughts riddled with fear and lust compete for attention in Wriothesley’s mind, he puts the note he is still holding down feeling frozen in place. There is a knock and his bedroom door opens.

Only one other person has the key and knows of this room. Now apparently two other people. He hears her familiar footsteps on the floor. She is probably saying something like “Good Morning.”

Nothing is fully entering his consciousness. Fragments of memory from the previous evening float in his mind in a blur. He sees himself staring down into Mescal’s pleading eyes. What actually happened last night? There is a pang in his chest that tells him something bad happened.

In his mental fog he starts sipping on the milkshake Sigewinne must have slipped in his hand. It tastes so good. Why does it taste so good this morning? Except there is a sour aftertaste. That feels new as well. Or were they always like this? Maybe he should find a way to beg off these milkshakes.

Sigewinne tuts something about his bloodstained clothes. He should be more careful. Yes, careful, careful around blood? He sinks back into the lumpy bed. It gives with the weight of his body in a familiar fashion.

Rubbing his temples, he continues to attempt to piece together the disparate images and thoughts in his head. They ebb and flow somewhere between mist and liquid, ever out of his grasp.

An angel? No, not quite white silky hair. Blazing, slitted eyes, his face delicately held. Words whispered into my ear, “My chosen.” He feels like his entire body rejects his very existence. Nausea overwhelms his senses. He leaps out of his bed and takes ten large strides to the bathroom. Whatever contents were in his stomach empty as he wretched into the toilet.

He huddles over the porcelain as the activities of last night crystallize. He had killed again. He was not a good man. He never had been. What a joke giving a man like him a title.

Memories resurface as the moment of incredibly inappropriate make out sessions with the Iudex of Fontaine sting. Instead of helping a hurt man, he decided it was a good move?

Bile and whatever remains were still in his stomach bubble up as visions of his carnage flash through his head. A concerned face pops into the bathroom. “Your Grace! Please let me help.”

Wriothesley sits up taking a slow breath to settle his stomach and wipes off his mouth. He lets out a bitter staccato laugh. “There is no grace for me, Winnie.”

He stands up. “Until I hear otherwise, I still have a prison to run. I need to go get ready for the day.” Sigewinne stands firm with her hands across her chest. “Your Grace, please let me help. You seemed quite out of sorts this morning.”

Wriothesley looks down at his best friend. It is not her fault that he is a damaged, terrible man. He kneels down and puts a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. “Winnie, I know that you want to help. I don’t know if you can.”

“Really I don’t think you can help. I hope you can respect my feelings. I know me getting sick concerns you but I just need a little time. Okay WInnie?”

Sigewinne lets out a long sigh and looks Wriothesley over very closely. “Okay, your Grace, I will give you space.” her rhinophores droop on her head and she walks away. Watching her depart slowly, Wriothesley feels like the biggest pile of garbage.

At that moment, he knew that this was not right. Knowing he hurt his only best friend. She deserves spending less time with him. Watching her leave leaves him with his thoughts. As she looks back one more time, "You know where to find me. Your Grace." Weakly he smiles back at her and the door closes.

Emotion steamed through Wriothesley’s mind. It built up to an overload as he worked through the day. There was only one place he thought best to go when shit went down, the Pankration Ring. He wanted to push the events of last evening out of his mind. What he really needed was pain, to breathe it, endure it, but most of all to distract his thoughts from wandering to his disgusting nature.

Adjusting his last wrap on to his right palm, he starts beating the boxing target. As the voices around him fade into the background, he punches the training dummy over and over. His pulse and breath link with the rush of fresh adrenaline.

His body takes an orthodox stance on instinct. Familiar, primal rhythmic thuds wash over his consciousness. Mindless right and rear hooks take over his swiftly swinging fists. He is all movement, all instinct. Muscle memory takes him through forms sketched in his form. He floats above himself zoned into his practice.

Edges of his sight fuzz up, the sound of pommeling still echoing in his ears. He can see himself destroying the face of Mescal. Brutal efficient hard punches.

The man had no chance. He was pinned motionless, gurgling noises unnoticed until this recovered memory choked out of him. Death rattles unheard by his stony countenance. He sees himself as an efficient, ruthless weapon pointed at a defenseless man.

Anger wells up inside him. He was a killer. Worthless, nobody, nothing he had manipulated this whole place just to get ahead. He was no saint.

“WHOA WHOA YOUR GRACE!!” Yelling pulled him from the deep memory he was in; he saw the Pankration Ring Coordinator Roussimoff, waving and hollering. “Oh good, you stopped. That uh boxing target has had enough there boss.” He looks down to see an absolutely decimated boxing target.

Wriothesley sighs and gives a chagrin smile. “Heh, guess I should have had a mek test day instead. I’ll get that replaced.” He picks the largest piece of the wrecked target up, throws it in a garbage bin and leaves for his office. Paperwork was always there and it will be a better distraction.

Paperwork is not a better distraction. Blue and gold seals decorate half the papers he is leafing through. Thoughts of a long legged, unusually strong Iudex flood his mind. Immediate need coils in his gut. Memories of hands grabbing desperate to bring their bodies together. He feels a feverish chill crawl up his neck. Mouths crashing into each other.

Longing for a touch of breath, it cloys in his mind, begging for attention. Demanding he ignore these papers and take care of an increasing need. Bodies so close they could easily have merged into one. It felt so right to be held by Neuvillette.. That part felt so wrong though. How could he have killed a man and then immediately kissed him… whatever Monsieur Neuvillette was to him.

Three curt knocks echo through his office. Startling him out of his thoughts. Etienne enters with the mail. The Steambird sits boldly on top of the stack.

“NOUVELLE ESTATE SEARCHED, NOUVELLE IMPLICATED IN LARGEST KNOWN SINTHE RING TO DATE”

Wriothesley picks up the paper and gestures to the guard with a quick smile. Etienne places the rest of the mail on his desk and leaves the Duke to his thoughts. He sits and skims the article.

It briefly mentions that Mescal’s arrest spurred further investigation finding several stores of sinthe within the Nouvelle Estate. Nouvelle is being held for questioning. His trial date is pending. Wriothesley finds no mention of himself or Monsieur Neuvillette.

Wriothesley lets out a troubled sigh and rakes his fingers through his unruly hair. He came to the conclusion that he was not only a monster but a sick bastard. There was no way he could sully the Iudex’s good name with his presence. He needs to focus on his job and get his head right.

Sigewinne can run reports for the time being. He knows he will just disappoint the Iudex if he goes in. He is not ready for that conversation. If they decide to reconvict him, then he guesses he is already where he belongs.

The next couple weeks Wriothesley throws himself into work. Sleep was non-existent as it brought bad memories. Dangerous to the point of avoiding it. Accompanied with that, he stopped drinking Sigewinne's milkshakes. After the memories of Neuvillette they kept bringing, he couldn't take it much longer.

Out of everything though was Sigewinne. She was too special, too sweet. So distancing himself from her was for the best. Most days headaches coupled with nausea spiked. He blamed stress, but didn't want to admit to Sigewinne's health shakes to be any help.

The further away she was the safer she was. She had just left to go for his monthly visit with the Iudex. She looked so disappointed that he wasn’t going himself and that he did not give her his normal goodbye. Her rhinophores had drooped and her smile faltered.

She shouldn’t waste her good intentions on him. He was not salvageable. He was a sinner who could not stop sinning. He was filthy with impurities. He begged off her questioning eyes with a large pile of paperwork and a booked schedule.

It hurt, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to confide in her. She would just be weighed down with his bad decisions. She would want to help. He didn’t deserve her good will. He felt a deep sadness in that thought. Tears were threatening to spill over his eyes, he pushed the feeling down with a deep breath.

Two loud knocks resound through his office. He composes himself as sharp heels swiftly ascend the stairs. Familiar purple eyes crackle with electricity as Clorinde, someone he regarded somewhere between acquaintance and friend, came up the stairs.

She smiles sarcastically and makes a show of bowing. “Good day to you Duke Shit for Brains, you want to tell me why I just passed the saddest looking melusine I have ever seen in my life?” She takes out her pistolet and begins spinning the chambers. Her eyes never leave Wriothesley.

“Whoa, hey now! What happened to; how have you been? Whatcha been up to? And we are friends, you can just call me plain old Shit for Brains.” Wriothesley raises his hands to show surrender, he paints a charming grin on his face.

Clorinde grabs the apple that had been sitting on Wriothesley’s desk and takes a huge bite out of it. “Hey I think that was supposed to be my breakfast.” She chews at him taking another crispy, large bite.

“Looks like it is my breakfast now. I imagine Sige put it there for you around three hours ago and you didn’t even notice. When were you going to eat it tomorrow?” she moves into his space.

“Another thing, Oh Grand Duke Asshole, why in the world are you sending your head nurse to your meeting with the Iudex? Hm?”

“Do you kiss your girlfriend with that mouth?” she clicks off the safety of her gun menacingly. “Ok, okay I'm joking, but in all seriousness, Rindolini, you saw me at the ball a couple of weeks ago. You saw how well or rather how poorly I was received. I saw the paper this morning.”

“The Iudex is going to be super busy with that Nouvelle trial. I’am going to remind you that I haven’t been Duke Shit for Brains for long. I was very recently the Little Shit convict kid who somehow conned you into friendship after cracking through your walls on one of your escorts down here.”

“This place is still a mess. It will take years to get it where I want it. I think I should keep a low profile for a while and focus on the Fortress. Sigewinne can go over reports and have a nice visit with Monsieur Neuvillette. I know they are close.” He throws a lopsided grin at her for good measure.

Clorinde circles around Wriothesley looking him over closely. She pulls down the skin under one of his eyes looking at them as if she were doing some kind of medical exam. “You look alive to me.” She sighs.

“Monsieur Neuvillette. You know the Iudex his Honor? He asked me to check on you. He said you would only miss a meeting with him if you were on death's door. I don’t see death here.”

She pulls on his tie bringing his face level with hers. Her eyes are piercing bullets deadlier than her gun. “Listen, you little fucker, you better give me more than I am really busy. I cannot go back to his Honor and say you just got busy.”

She lets go. “Honestly, Wriothesley, what is going on? You don’t avoid people. Look at you! You're avoiding sleep and not taking care of yourself but you aren’t one to avoid people.”

Wriothesley huffs out a laugh “Rindy, are you seriously worried about little old me? Come on now. Look let our very distinguished Iudex know that I am respecting the status of his office. He knows the nobility are going to be watching him closely especially with Nouvelle in custody. The last thing he needs is scandal.”

“They would say I am angry at how I was treated and how I am influencing him somehow. I know that is ridiculous. But, you know how things look are more important to Fontainians than what is true.” Wriothesley lets out a big sigh.

“As for my Winnie, I don’t know why she is sad. Maybe she had a tough patient. I haven’t been able to have our tea time in a little bit.” He points to the rather large stack of paper. “Someone in the Palais hoards paper and you can’t tell me otherwise. I am up to my eyeballs.”

She puts the half eaten apple back on his desk. “Fine. You owe me time at the shooting targets, and tea time.” she scowls. “Get some sleep, you look like shit. I will tell Monsieur Neuvillette what you said.”

She twirls her gun and puts it away, then looks down at the ground and mumbles. “If you need anything you know you can talk to me right?”

“Yeah” he huffs out a dark laugh. “Seriously, just busy. No rest for the wicked.” He grins wolfishly. She hits his arm hard. “Dumb ass. Just don’t be a stranger, your Grace.” She gives the smallest shade of a smile and leaves.

Wriothesley slumps into his chair. His head was throbbing. Hammering pain ricocheting within his skull. Pretending things were just fine for Clorinde was more taxing than he anticipated. He drank oversteeped cold tea right out of the pot, sat down and got back to work.

Stacks of papers surrounded Neuvillette. There was a comforting rhythm to reading it, codifying it, and stamping it with his signature. These simple motions kept his mind from wandering too far into thoughts of his chosen human.

It was time now to have patience and let the man consider everything he had been shown. Neuvillette was confident he would come to him on his own.

His door slammed open unceremoniously. “My dear Iudex! I am sure you have been nearly lost without my guidance. So I have come to have tea with you.” He stands and gives a courtesy bow.

“Lady Furina, what has brought me the honor of your presence?” He gestures to his plush blue receiving couches. “Please, take a seat, I will make you a cup of tea.”

He watches her flit to the couch. While his back is turned from the archon he takes time to school his face. He doesn't want his growing irritation with Furina to show. For as long as they have been in the same circle they were not close. He knew her bravado and dramatic courtroom outbursts but had never been privy to her private thoughts.

While she soaked up the credit and praise the bulk of governing Fontaine was borne on his back. Her contribution had been making ridiculous laws and soaking in the adoration of the wealthy.

Closing his eyes and counting slow measured breaths he refocuses into impartiality. Turning back towards his guest he hands Furina her cup as takes his own seat across from her, imbibing a compulsory sip of his own tea.

“Do I always need a reason to check in on you, Monsieur Neuvillette? It hurts me that you think so little of me that I only come to you with problems.” Her laughter peels through the air. “I came to ask how things are Dear Iudex. Your job has become so exciting as of late.”

Heterochromia eyes widen in excitement. “I haven’t really seen you since your bold move at the ball. I didn’t know you had it in you to cause such a stir.” Neuvillette’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Lady Furina, I don't follow what you are implying.”

Huffing out exasperation Furina continues “Bringing the mysterious Lord Incognito of the Depth was inspired. The people are still talking about it. How lovely your dance was. You arrived and left together. Everyone has been craning their necks around town to catch a glimpse of you two together. Insisting you have lost your impartiality!” Differently colored eyes sparkle with mirth.

“I assure you.” Neuvillette places his hands on his lap gripping them together to self-soothe his growing frustration. “I am as impartial today as I ever was. The reason that Duke Wriothesley and I are not galavanting around town is because we are both very busy people. Busy adjudicating your laws.”

He punches the word ‘your’ and takes a breath he hopes she ignores.. “His Grace only did me a favor in being my escort. He has no desire to climb socially. He would not have been in attendance otherwise.”

“Right” Furina elongates the word looking closely at Neuvillette’s face. He is not sure what she is looking for but after a beat or two she continues.

“Sure we will go with a “favor”. What about that spectacle of the arrest and you leaving. Who was that man again… Manuel, Mastiff, Mendel… whoever it was I will be very excited for the trial!” her mind seems preoccupied with whatever Furina thought about cake mostly was Neuvillette’s guess.

“Wait, I think that should have happened already; it's been weeks since the ball. He should already be in Meropide. What is the hold up? What exactly are you doing all day? Did he not confess?”

Neuvillette feels the corners of his eyes twitching. She was exhibiting her woeful lack of involvement in every aspect of governing this country. She was insinuating incompetence on the courts, and on him. “It is not public knowledge, Lady Furina, his whereabouts are unknown. He escaped custody. There is a manhunt for him.”

Furina gasps. “Oh my! How? What happened? Where could he have gone?” Neuvillette stands and takes her empty tea cup. “Lady Furina, that is all highly confidential. I suggest you focus on your own duties. Allow me to focus on mine.” He takes a beat to turn and look directly at her. “I do have a question though. Furina, what are your plans regarding the p–”

Both look to the door as one sharp proper knock followed by Sedene announcing loudly. “Monsieur Neuvillette, your two o’cock is here.” behind her Sigewinne steps in. Rhinophores plastered to her head, she was drenched and looked miserable.

“Well that is my cue to leave. Bye my Iudex!” Furina exclaims as she hurries out in the same hurricane of motion she entered with.

Large eyes looked up at Neuvillette, he had expected his Chosen. He was hoping to let him know he had exceeded all expectations. Maybe he pushed too hard too fast.

With no hesitation he brings one finger to Sigewinne signaling that he needed just a moment. Clorinde stands right behind as he gives her instructions for intel. Better that he gauge a different perspective. Returning to Sigewinne's side, he takes her small fragile hands and leads her to sit.

“Please, take a moment, you look upset. Then we will chat.” He sips on water and watches one of his brightest melusine look miserable. What could have happened. Sigewinne takes a shuddering breath.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I have failed you. I… his Grace, he stopped drinking my milkshakes, he won’t tell me what is on his mind. I, he..” she looks down at her hands nervously folding and unfolding her fingers. Unbidden tears start falling down her cheeks.

“We used to have tea all the time. He told me everything. He was really out of it when he woke up from the ball. He got sick. Then he shut me out. I know he hasn’t been sleeping. He isn’t eating that well either. I miss my friend Monsieur”

Sigewinne gives into the tears and starts crying quietly. Neuvillette hates seeing his sweet melusines upset. He knew this would be a difficult task for Sigewinne. Holding her close, he consoles her heavy heart cradling her body.

She cried harder and louder once given permission. ”Shh-Sigewinne, you have done very well. Wriothesley has much to consider. I have given him a great deal to think about in a very short time. Shh sweet Sigewinne. We will get our Prince back, you will see.”

He gently wipes the tears from her face. She hiccups as she calms her breathing. She stays in his embrace feeling the comfort and calming herself. “Young as a puppy he is, he’s that special Your Honor?”

He can feel the emotions of the melusines easier than humans. He knows that Sigewinne is beginning to settle. He smiles at her fondly. “Yes, he is genuinely one of a kind. I know he is the key to helping me get my authority back.”

Helping her sit back on the couch. He continues, "I'm sorry that hurt was done. Please, if you blame anyone. It should be me." Neuvillette tilts his head to his hands.

Squeezing his hands to fist. "Our prince, he mesmerizes me. I needed to see his actions to prove that the weapon was branded. Is but perfection. Sigewinne...I witnessed poetry in motion, brutal and beautiful. I want him and I will have him."

It takes a couple hours to go over all the documents and budget from the Fortress. Sigewinne makes a list of questions that Neuvillette still has that only Wriothesley can answer. A knock on the door interrupts them.

“Enter,” Neuvillette’s loud clear voice responded. The tall self-assured figure of the Champion Duelist steps into the office. “My apologies, your Honor, you requested that I report directly to you upon my return.”

“Yes please come in, you may speak freely.” he gestures for her to come into the office. “Sigewinne and I have come to a little break in our meeting. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Clorinde stands a little straighter and clears her throat. “I did as you requested and went to check on the Duke’s well being. He looks tired, stressed, and overwhelmed but not on death's door.”

“He said his main reason for avoiding the Palais is because of the nobility’s response to him being your escort and the upcoming case against Nouvelle. I wanted to do some research and see if there was any merit to his concern”

She pulls out several tabloid magazines and the opinion section of the Steambird. “Seems he predicted some of the nobility’s backlash. They are looking to discredit you.”

Headline after headline

Even the Steambird has an opinion piece insinuating that the Duke of Meropide is so upset about his debut at the ball. He has the highest court in the land coming after the founders and pillars of the society they built.

“Seems the Steambird can be bought just like anyone else.” Her face is blank showing no emotion. A practiced countenance of composed neutrality.

Neuvillette begins to pace the room slowly in thought. “Thank you, Clorinde. You may go.” She gives a slight bow and leaves the Iudex to his thoughts. Sigewinne takes his hand leading him to the couch.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I frankly think that the Duke is not being completely transparent with Ms. Clorinde but he does have a point. It seems that Fontaine society is looking for a scapegoat and they have chosen our puppy.”

She sighs. “I can tell you have an idea Monsieur would you let me know what it is. I want to help.”

Irritation boiled right under the surface. Neuvillette knew he had to temper it down. Sigewinne is not who he is angry at. This land, these people who happened to be born with a silver spoon. They were a large part of why Fontaine was broken. He chafed at the restraints of his position.

Not only did he have to make the laws and approve the laws made up by Furina he had to deal with several hours of conversation with her. She would badger him loudly, her shrill voice echoing through the hallways of the Palais until he gave into her vision.

Before he used to try to be a voice for reform, it became clear fairly soon she expected his compliance with what she wanted.. He had been able to get some things into law regarding his sweet melusines, perhaps only as a small token for being such a good little mascot dragon for her.

In the end this was Furina’s creation. She appreciated and soaked in the praise and flattery of the nobility. Their dynasties and archaic laws stayed because they promised extravagant balls and sponsored theater and music for her to shine at. She coddled and protected their interests. It fell to him to settle any petty discord left in her wake.

He lets out a long sigh. “You are very perceptive. I do have a way to get our puppy, as you like to call him, back." He hands her a dossier.

”In this folder you will find information on a man. He is your target. You will find a way to have him stumble upon the contents of that satchel.” He gestures to his desk.

"You need only make this man think he found it himself. Make him think he is the center of its plot. Don't touch these artifacts with bare hands. They're incredibly potent."

"Otherwise, keep dosing the Duke. Replace his sugar with my Ischus. The taste may be similar enough I think." He returns to his seat on the couch and crosses his legs elegantly waiting as she reads through.

“Hmm yes this Dougier fellow, I have been watching him closely. I did not know you followed my notes on the Fortress so closely. I can make sure all of this happens for you.” She smiles brightly back at Neuvillette.

“Sigewinne, one more thing you should know before moving forward. I believe this person is the type to use personal relationships against the Duke. You are his closest ally in the Fortress. I feel that will be utilized as a point of weakness. A way to perhaps force the Duke into relinquishing control. You could get hurt. It is the part of the plan that makes me the most uneasy.” Neuvillette’s brows furrow as his mouth points down in a frown.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I have spent centuries studying humans and what makes them healthy as well as what makes them sick. I know their points of vulnerability as well as I know their strengths. Did you know there is a special spot on the human body. If you touch it the right way for the right amount of time, that person will go unconscious.”

“It’s called the brachial plexus. The peroneal tendon is also a soft spot, hit it just right and a man three times your size will fall to his knees in front of you. I have used them many times in my field.”

She smiles sweetly back at Neuvillette. “Don’t worry about me. I have dealt with hundreds of men just like this Dougier. He will not be a problem for me. I think it will be a catalyst for the Duke to act if anything happens to me. I am happy in that role.”

Neuvillette smiles fondly at the little melusine. “I apologize, I know how capable you all are. I have seen it many times. I trust you to see this through. I appreciate all of your help immensely.”

Chimes ring in the background. “That sound calls me to prepare for my next meeting. Safe travels back to the Fortress. Chin up sweet Sigewinne he will come back to us soon.”

“Thank you, I feel much better after our visit. I will collect my things and see my way out. Please, focus on your next meeting.” Sigewinne smiles and dutifully takes everything needed for the next phase of their plan. He watches her skip out leaving in a better mood than she was when she had arrived.

His mind wandered as he carefully read through mundane documents waiting for his next appointment. So many petty disputes brought to his attention. For the principle of the matter as the humans liked to say. This principle of theirs was hours and hours of his days. This was not justice.

This was the minutiae of paperwork. He thought instead of strong broad shoulders and rough hands. Wriothesley had been such perfection. His casual stance and easy posture complimented him. He was effortless on the dance floor. Neuvillette did not think he would have any reaction to being held by the man. There had been an ease to their connection.

He had watched Wriothesley kill for him so obediently. Chiseled, efficient and so loyal. Wriothesley was the one. The pivotal piece he needed to sway for his plan. Their shared kiss confused him. It was enjoyable.

Thoughts flooded in every corner of those few shared moments. Unbidden, why had Wirothesley kissed him? While he felt badly releasing this contingency plan on the Fortress below. He needed Wriothesley back in his fold.

Sedene’s soft knock interrupted his thoughts. The door opens and he sees the melusines small head poke inside.

“Your honor, the Knave is here for your meeting.” Sedene opens the door wider at Neuvillette’s nod. Arlecchino steps in giving a small courtesy bow. The door closes behind her.

“Greetings, uh, Knave?” Neuvillette adjusts his jabot nervously. “Or do you prefer Father?”

A hint of a smile crosses her face. Neuvillette is reminded of a spider spinning a web. “You may call me Arlecchino, your honor. My Harbinger name holds no meaning in the Court of Fontaine and you are not a child of the Hearth.” Her words sound covered in silk. She means to sooth him which raises his curiosity and wariness.

“Arlecchino it is.” He lets silence settle for a moment. It seems she is also familiar with waiting for others to speak first. “Please sit, I will make us some tea.” As he prepares the tea he watches her. She chooses her spot and sits.

When she crosses her legs she is able to appear both capable of leaping into a kill strike and half asleep at the same time. Her crossed eye takes in the details of his office resting on the tabloids Neuvillette had nearly forgotten about. “I see you keep yourself informed of the Fontainian rumor mill.”

Neuvillette sighs, brings the finished tea over, places the tray on the central table, and takes a seat across from Arlecchino. “I was made aware that the nobility of the city may find creative ways to lash out now that some of their secrets are coming to light. They have made the newly appointed Duke their target. It is a cowardly route but an expected ploy.” The rain outside picks up hitting the panes with staccato beats.

“I heard about his debut in finer society. It seems that wagging tongues cannot keep the Duke out of their mouths. You gave him the title correct?” Her tone is light, but Neuvillette knows that she is searching for something from him.

His violet slit eyes narrow the smallest fraction. “I did, it is one of the few things I have power to grant. Duke Wriothesley has been instrumental in driving out corruption in Meropide. It may be an unpopular opinion but I feel that those in exile should have a baseline quality of life.”

“Meropide provides key components of our defense and security. I have found the administrator to be trustworthy, compassionate, strong, capable, smart, versatile, and full of conviction. I would not hear of replacing him in that position. He is perfect.” He takes a sip of water holding her gaze. “What is it I can help you with?”

Arlecchino’s smile grows just a little; it is a predatory thing. It emanates manners but no warmth. “I hope to one day have such high praise from the Iudex myself. We both know that where one is born does not dictate how high they may rise.”

She adjusts how she is sitting. “I prefer to be underestimated and misunderstood. It makes it easier for me to do my work. I have noticed that you are targeting high profile individuals. Nouvelle is one of the founding families of Fontaine.”

Neuvillette gives her a smile showing a hint of a sharp tooth. “That is what their history states. It has some truth to it. It does not change their current involvement in the sinthe ring.” He picks up a folder and hands it to her.

“I have had my Phantoms look into you.” The folder shows picture after picture of her Hearth members. “I am aware of your activities in the city. Your children are very good at collecting intelligence. I'll offer, since our investigations can benefit from your intel. In return we can assist in your unique brand of justice. Your intercedence, I've seen it."

He watches those crimson crossed eyes, the knave bristles at the extent of Neuvillette’s offer. Assuming the melusines tend on her children. She puts down the folder and when her eyes look back at him she is the picture of calm.

“I see that your melusines are as capable as my Hearth members. I agree that our purposes aim at the same target. Now for me to divulge to you what I already know. My children eavesdrop everywhere and your melusines are very fond of children.”

“It seems that it is entirely possible that you know a great deal more about this sinthe ring than meets the eye. You are already aware of my official reason for being here.” She smiles and relaxes back into the chair waiting for the next volley.

"Then I expect no less to propose this next pose. We share intelligence. Helping each other route out corruption deep in this City. I can keep your children out of my official investigations."
"You can continue your impunity. Every eye of yours is under my protection no matter the crime. As for the gnosis, I do not know its current location. But I'll hand it to you when I find it. I would also ask that your organization keep any investigations from circling back to me." He stands and extends his hand out offering to shake in accordance.

Arlecchino rises to meet him and she grasps his hand firmly “I feel we can be mutually beneficial to one another. I find it refreshing to find another who understands that most problems cannot be solved with black and white thinking. Sometimes one must do unpalatable things to make the world better for others.”

“We are in agreement then, I accept these conditions.” She drops her hand to her side. “I have one more slice of intel. I happen to know that the gnosis is not on Lady Furina. I have been in the presence of the Tsaritsa.”

“Your archon reads hmm a different energy. I suspect personally she may not be a real archon. It is speculative at best. I have no proof. It is just a feeling at this point. I thought I would share it in good will due to our new working relationship.”

He frowns slightly. “Thank you, I will ponder that further. I look forward to having tea-”

Suddenly the force of the wooden door slams open to an upset woman with golden curls billowing below her black and golden dress standing in pure fury at the doorways entrance. Sedene’s cross voice can be heard ringing behind her. “Mademoiselle Caspar, you do not have an appointment, you cannot interrupt Monsieur Neuvillette!”

“Sedene, Mademoiselle Caspar must have something quite important to barge into my room in this manner. The Lady and I were just concluding our meeting.” He acknowledges Arlecchino who recognizes her cue to depart.

“Your honor, thank you for your time.” Her elegant stride takes her quickly from the scene. “I will see what her request is. Thank you for your diligence Sedene.”

Sedene’s face still flushed with red anger. “As you wish, your Honor. Next time Miss Navia you will make an appointment and respect this office.” She closes the door having said her piece. Navia falters a little, having been scolded by Sedene.

“Mademoiselle Caspar. I can take a guess as to why you are here. I would prefer you to tell me though.” he watches her collect herself. Determination burning red on her cheeks.

“I would like all of the reports from the Phantom regarding the murder my father was charged with. I know he was innocent. Trial was unnecessary against him. I wish to find the truth to why he faced the option himself in the duelists ring." Her voice trembles with anger and grief. Tears are perched at the corners of her eyes threatening to spill.

“I will collect for you our thorough investigation. I do not like that you are insinuating my phantoms did not do everything they could to investigate the scene. You will find there was very little left at the scene and what was there pointed to only one suspect.” He raises and goes through his files.

Remembering where the file exactly is, he hands it over. “Ah here,” he hands the folder over. “That is everything we have.”

She takes the folder and stares at him. “I know my father. I know he did not do this. The things people are saying about him are not true. He would not betray us like this. I know there is more to this Monsieur Neuvillette. If you care about justice you should help me.”

Neuvillette sighs. “I assure you, I have done everything in my power. I’am simply the voice of the Oratrice. I do not have the power to take away someone's free will. We cannot know why your father opted for a duel. It is his right to ask for one. Should I have stomped on his rights?” he raises his shoulders shrugging.

“I do have great sympathy for your loss. Truly Miss Navia.” He watches her closely. He senses her anger, it flows off of her. She blames him for misappropriating justice. The Oratrice could have found him not guilty. There is no way to know now.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, I know you could have stopped this. Rights or not you could have delayed proceedings. You could have gotten him better counsel. You failed him! You failed me! You care more about that damn Oratrice than real breathing people! I will get to the bottom of this. I will clear my father’s name! I will do it on my own!” With the same tempest storm she entered his office with, she leaves.

Neuvillette sighs deeply, the rain grows heavier as it attacks the window pane. That girl is going to be a problem. Her determination will have her looking into the nooks and crannies of his business. With her interference in his affairs, he felt a need to hasten and intensify the steps in his plan.

The Oratrice needed more fuel, the nation’s feelings of justice was that fuel. He felt a very familiar source of energy within its machinations. It propelled him to carry on. Stepping towards the ornate window behind him, he places a hand on the cold window pane.

Neuvillette sighs deeply, the rain grows heavier as it attacks the window pane. That girl is going to be a problem. Her determination will have her looking into the nooks and crannies of his business. With her interference in his affairs, he felt a need to hasten and intensify the steps in his plan. The Oratrice needed more fuel, the nation’s feelings of justice was that fuel. He felt a very familiar source of energy within its machinations. It propelled him to carry on.

Stepping towards the ornate window behind him, he places a hand on the cold window pane. A sudden visceral thread of longing spreads through his body. A longing for those dull blue gray eyes to be his. But why have these thoughts of claiming him? He wants him. He craves him. Does he miss him?

He shakes his head hoping to clear those mirthful eyes from his mind. He turns his thoughts to that golden bear of a woman who just thwarted his tail. He places the thoughts of the man at the bottom of the fortress in a box in the back of his mind. He would remain just out of his finger tips for just a little while longer. He focused on making sure to keep track of Lady Caspar through his little angels.

The next months were incredibly busy. Several notable names had found themselves on the defense chair in Court. Neuvillette knew full well who was in the network. For he had set up the strings on the suggested routes. Only the players were in his peripheral scheme. Sinthe was being made and he knew those very players.

Necessary evil was needed in order. These cases might've been a bit, but the poor among Fontaine were elated to the rich finally seeing Justice. Elites slandered Neuvillette, due to the notable lack of presence of the Duke. Accusations bearing no tooth and fang.

Wriothesley came to his mind often. Nearly daily. He had never thought of a mortal more than in passing. This was a very new experience. There was much to admire about the human. He was eager to continue working with him. They had not spent much physical time together so why did this little human take up so much of his mental map?

Curiosity made his time pass slowly. It was a unique torture he was unaccustomed to. Centuries passed in the blink of an eye for him. Why were the days passing slowly? Everyday his curiosity had no answers.

Pricking his mind and consciousness between trials and testimonies. The waiting was a test to his patience. Some part of him knew that only with their reunion would clarity come.

Chapter Text

Months ticked by as Wriothesley settled into a comfortable pattern of leading the fortress. He had even been able to get sleep once he had finally gone to Sigewinne for a sleeping tincture. Sleep helped restore his ability to think.

Time helped him compartmentalize his confusion and guilt into boxes for future Wriothesley to unpack. He and Sigewinne picked up having tea together again, mostly because the little melusine was persistent and Wriothesley could not say no to her.

Thoughts of Neuvillette occurred to him often and he allowed them as a guilty pleasure. They came as he fell asleep and ran through his dreams.

Managing the Fortress kept him busy with paperwork, settling disputes, routine patrols, maintaining the machines that built the meks and the fortress itself.

Most of the inmates had come into the new management easily. They saw the improvements and understood their new place within the structure.

The Fortress was not meant to be paradise, but it's not meant to be hell either. Many exiles chose to stay and call the Old Iron Lady home so it needed to be habitable.

There was one inmate that kept popping up insinuating himself into solutions for the fortress. Attempting to make himself indispensable. Wriothesley was not adverse to taking help. There was nothing in the actions that were bad or wrong. Not in themselves.

He can’t pinpoint why he didn’t trust Dougier, he just didn’t. Truthfully there were very few he trusted. He decided it best to keep eyes on the man.

Dougier asked him to rubber stamp a new group. He wanted to found a group that would help people turn over a new leaf and live more happy fulfilling lives. Wriothesley could see no harm in this.

It was partly why he had initiated the reforms he had. They were called the Beret Society and were model prisoners as far as Wriothesley can see. They funded the group through the member’s donated goods and credit coupons.

Nothing was wrong on the surface. There was something underneath the facade of it that didn't seem to sit quite right. He had no reason to take their charter away.

No rules were being broken. Their seminars and events were well attended and well received.

One day, Dougier popped out while he was on patrol. “Your Grace! A moment of your time. I wanted to touch base. I appreciate you green lighting my little group.” The shorter man fidgeted a little as he spoke.

“I am pleased it seems to have been doing so well. I wanted to see if positions were opening up to shoulder the burden of oversight of the fortress. I have shown many key leadership skills. I would be a great choice.”

“Wow…seriously impressive resume. I’m afraid this Old Iron Lady is a one man kind of Lady. She doesn’t like to share. There is no such position up for grabs. I appreciate the help your group offers folks.”

Wriothesley thinks he sees a glimmer of darkness in Dougier’s expression. It’s gone so quickly he might have just thought it.

“Apologies, Your Grace. I will leave you to your rounds.” Wriothesley watches the strange man walk off. No one was this straightforward.

There was always a song and dance, a give and take. The fortress was not a meritocracy. On his way back through his rounds he felt a check in with his favorite nurse was due.

Scanning the room quickly he found her alone hunched over patient files. “Winnie! My dearest, most wonderful nurse. Best nurse Meropide ever had! How are you?” He beams at her.

Her little head snaps up. “Your Grace!” she smiles then her face turns skeptical.

“What happened, why are you being nice? Are you hurt? Who hurt you?” She plants her tiny fists on her hips.

“Hey now, I just wanted to check in! Can’t a guy give compliments to his best friend?”

Sigewinne lets out an exasperated huff. “Sure, normal people can. When you are nice you are either hiding something or going to ask me something.”

She scans him quickly. “You are due for a check up as it is, come here Your Grace.” she pats an exam table and throws her most human smile at him.

He strides over and sits letting her poke, prod and listen. “Okay, you aren’t hurt. So what is it you need from me, Your Grace?”

Wriothesley chuckles and pats her head. “Alright, I do have something I wanted your opinion on.”

“You have noticed the Beret Society right? Their organizer, Dougier, just approached me and outright asked for an oversight position of the Fortress. You know how things work here. It’s strange behavior and I don’t know what exactly but something is just off about the whole group. Have you noticed anything?”

Her rhinophores wobble as she thinks. “What I have noticed is that when someone joins the beret society they never take off their hats. I haven’t seen anyone in the infirmary who has joined the Society. I saw one member looking like they were in pain of some kind.”

She looks up in thought. “They saw me and quickly walked away. I’m not sure exactly what is happening within their ranks but they are acting peculiarly. Does this help?” She blinks her large ruby red eyes quizzically.

Wriothesley sighs, “It only makes me feel more uneasy with no real indicator of what’s wrong. I just know that something is wrong. All I can do is keep my eyes and ears open. You do the same, yeah?”

She nods. “Of course Your Grace. I will let you know anything else I find out.”

The next few days passed uneventfully. He made rounds, attempted to get the Beret Society members to open up a little.

One other item of note was the pressure gauge on the Fortress’ little secret. He was now the steward of the Forbidden Zone. Today walking into check on the gauge he felt a familiar tug.

It danced on the periphery of his memory. Something was pulsing just on the other side of the seal. The needle was marching onward millimeters from cresting to the red zone.

He shook himself feeling this gauge was metaphoric for how he was feeling. Something big was going on under his roof, he hoped to find out what it was before it blew up in his face.

Staring at the second decommissioned mek report this month his mind starts running trends. There had been an uptick in meks needing to be decommissioned in the last couple of months. It is possible that this particular generation has met its natural end.

Noting the trashed meks to double check everything. A knock bellows through his office. “Enter!” he yells. Etienne takes the stairs two at a time.

“Your Grace, we have some contraband for you. It seems out of the ordinary and wanted to bring it to you right away.” He hands Wriothesley a parcel box, salutes and swiftly leaves the office.

A long hard sigh leaves Wriothesley as he places the box on his desk and scratches the back of his head. The gauge is going crazy, a suspicious group working towards some purpose even the way the mek report didn’t sit well with him and now unusual contraband.

Thinking that identifying the contraband should be an easy item to check off the list, he opens the box. He saw a stone glimmering with dark deep violet and glistening pitch black reflections. It was unlike anything he had ever seen.

Gently his fingers touch to examine it closer. His mind solidifies and before him he hears the echoes of a little girl crying, begging…memories seep into his consciousness from long in the past. The girl…Phoebe?

Her small frame walks away. Each step leaves a scarlet trail behind her…a pair of small black heels…a dress. No…she didn’t like dresses.

Then the voices replay. “Please, I don't want to wear a dress. I don’t like dresses!” It buzzes, and resonates loudly to a familiar click of a heel on the ash wooden floors.

A saccharin voice coils up into his ear, stinging echoes in the recesses of his mind.

“Sweet girl, you know the rules. Girls have to look proper for their new homes. Be a good girl and stop crying.” His Mother’s wretched voice, it was immediately familiar.

His chest grew cold. Fear gripped him immediately on instinct. The girl’s tears were heard down the hallway, constant, dreadful, and pleading.

Yes, Phoebe was her name. She was sweet, loved singing…loud and clear as it marked her strong personality.

Always running, scraping knees, climbing in the trees, tearing her clothes, heedless of their mother’s rules.

Screaming cries grew louder, as she was led into the basement. No, the basement...everything down there was dark as burnt ash.

Now, the darkness surrounded him, a wafting smell filters in. A familiar putrid stench hits him, reminding him of his siblings’ rotted flesh.

It was too dark. He felt a string hit his hand. Dull gray shadows encroach his surroundings.

He trips into a bin, it falls over next to a severed arm rolling out of a brown sack, the pale pink bracelet Phoebe wore, adorns the wrist.

It is snowing now, Why is it snowing? Floods of glistening blood spill onto pristine snow.

Fractals of red spread quickly on the blanket of white before him. It spools out towards his feet, he braces against the cold, thick white flakes covering his hands.

Feeling numbness seep into his palms, he wraps his hands to catch any warmth. Dirty cloth barely covers bloodied knuckles.

Wind whistles past his ear, as snow falls. The scenery before him is frosted in ice. The chill is deadly; it silences most noise before it carries too far.

Alone, forgotten, starving in the frozen streets. Homeless to fend for himself standing in fear.

He blinks. He is in front of his desk. The stone is back in its box sitting idly; a small stream of liquid flows out of a small fracture in the stone.

He must have dropped it. A chill runs down his spine.

He rubs his arms and warm friction grounds him back into reality. This stone… It is a conduit to someone’s darkest, most fearful memories.

Why is it in the fortress? His vision fuzzes out of focus for a moment. Closing his eyes seems to reset his vision. He needed to find Sigewinne.

His mind starts putting some things together. Something that had been out of his reach was the vehicle Dougier was using to evoke compliance from his members.

Inmates were often unruly and it was unlikely that someone like Dougier would engender loyalty. There must be a way he is using the stone to keep his members in line. It was most likely through those ridiculous hats.

He finds the infirmary empty. He sweeps his eyes around the room, a chill runs up his spine as he sees her little nurse cap resting on the floor.

Whatever game Dougier was playing was over. He was going to find out what he was up to now. Full confident strides take him to a closeby guard.

“Maupoli, I need you to run a sweep of the Beret Society common area. Let me know if you find anything out of the ordinary. I will be in the infirmary waiting for Sigewinne to return.”

The young guard nods and swiftly moves to comply. Wriothesley takes the time to run a sweep over the small infirmary. The bad feeling sinking into him gets heavier as the minutes tick by.

“Sir!” The eager guard rushes over as Wriothesley meets him. “It may not be much, I found this hair pin. I thought it may be garbage at first, but uh sometimes little things break a case.” he hands the hair pin over.

Wriothesley looks at it closely. “Thank you, one more thing, collect as many Beret Society members as you can find. Holding area one should suffice.” Saluting with a nod the young guard leaves.

Closer inspection of the pin reveals a small needle attached to it. Wriothesley’s mind quickly connects pieces.

This was the missing piece, this was how Dougier was keeping the group under his sway. He needed to get to the production line and get eyes on the meks. Then find Dougier and put an end to his “Society.”

Amber light reflects off the floors of the Lower Production floor, steam hisses as Wriothesley enters the slumbering beast.

Meks in various stages of completion rest on conveyor belts. As his heavy footfalls echo off the empty floors, his habit of constantly scanning his environment is rewarded when he sees movement across the production floor.

Rounding the corner quietly, he sees the man of the hour, Dougier. He is busy speaking to a couple of his members in a hushed, hurried tone.

The sight that meets his gaze causes his eyes to widen and anger begins to coil low within him.

Off to the side he sees his Winnie. She is bound, face bruised, an eye blackened, fear plastered on her face.

Fuck this prick. He just signed his death certificate.

“Dougier! You will release Sigewinne immediately. She is not collateral. She is not a pawn. She has no part in whatever it is you want.”

Wriothesley makes his stand squarely in the open staring down the cowardly weaselly man.

“Your Grace! You are earlier than expected. Quite the contrary, she is my insurance policy. You will share a piece of this empire with me or I continue to..”

He gives a dark sardonic smile.

“Censure her.” Finishing his sentence he pushed down a familiar needle into her head.

“I took this position to keep men like you from taking the mantle. Your people cower in fear. Fear of you. All you have done is inflate your own importance.” Cold angry icy eyes level darkly at the smaller man.

“Dougier, you are still an inmate here. Still a man in exile.” His face completely darkens realizing talk will not solve this.

Dougier’s face twists with anger. “Get off your high horse! You are a crook just like us! I always make good on my promises.” His face twists in anger as he turns on Sigewinne.

“I will leave you to contend with these meks as I dole out your punishment on the head nurse.”

Meks energize on the sides, zeroing in on Wriothesley. In the corner of his vision he can see Dougier cornering Sigewinne.

He is menacing her with further ministrations of his damned needles. Her sobbing echoed off the walls. One by one three meks danced towards where the warden stood his ground.

Swiftly bracing himself, metallic fists snap onto his hands, he takes an orthodox stance. Two glacial walls rise in front of him anticipating the spray of bullets aimed at him.

He starts a deadly waltz springing off his left calf towards the meks.

His right fist finds its target knocking the gatling-suppression mek senseless. Rounding on the recon mek two forceful blows, taking it off its four legs.

Dougier hesitates, his face a combination of disgust and fear. The bold confidence leaked from his face, reducing him to a scrambling cockroach.

Watching Wriothesley dispatch the meks effortlessly he freezes.

Dumping the final mek’s bronze body in a heap before him, Wriothesley’s eyes lock on Dougier.

Looking up, Dougier pulls out and fastens his pistol, locking on Wriothesley from a seven yard distance. Coiling back his fingers on the trigger, he starts to shake in fear.

Bullets are shot in a quick erratic manner.

Wriothesley continues a slow determined pace towards the sniveling man.

“You hurt Sigewinne, that was a very stupid move.” Wriothesley’s eyes darken. He disperses his gauntlets while dodging the badly aimed bullets.

Failing to hit his target, Dougier levels the gun at Sigewinne. Wriothesley rushes the pathetic man.

Filled with rage he lifts Dougier by his neck. The gun falls uselessly to the floor. “You will regret even considering touching a hair on her head.”

Panic flashes over Dougier’s face. “I..I’m warning you. Unauthorized punishment and torture are prohibited here! As.. As the Duke you should set an example.”

Anger paints Wriothesley’s face. “You forget I make the rules.” he laughs darkly in the man’s face.

“You were dead the minute you hurt her. Every hair you touched, every fear she re-lived. You will feel it, and if the Duke wants somebody dead he needs no justification.”

He roughly releases Dougier only to grapple his upper left arm. He uppercuts into his solar plexus with his right hand forcefully.

Thinking about how hurt Sigewinne was, how fucked up this little shit of a man was he launches several low blows into the man’s ribcage counting the years he had been sentenced down in Meropide.

Wriothesley takes a step back and survey’s Dougier’s beaten frame watching the man gasp for air.

“Kill him” a velvety voice beckons him. “For me, for Sigewinne, Kill him.” Blood lust blurs his vision.

He leaps up into the air, landing a perfectly aimed blow to a pivotal point of Dougier’s temple. The crunching of hard bone crackles, crimson spills out of the dead man’s forehead.

Wriothesley lets the body slump to the ground and bolts over to Sigewinne. He unties her, removes her gag and pulls her into a crushing embrace.

“My Winnie! I am so sorry. I have you ok? I have you now.”

Tears stream down her cheeks. Her little arms hug him back with all her strength.

“Your Grace, you came.” she croaks out. He buries his face into her head refusing to let her go. “Of course I came. Are you hurt anywhere Winnie? What happened?”

He finally disentangles himself. “Let's get back to your infirmary. I will have some guards get this cleared up. You take priority.”

Swiftly he carries her back to the infirmary. Insisting against her own protest.

Unsure of how bad her injuries were, he didn't want to take any chances. She was a terrible patient.

Sitting still wasn't easy for her, and she kept insisting her condition was fine. He made her an ice pack for her swollen black bruised eye. Reluctantly she explains her side.

“I was about to leave and find out who had been overworking themselves so I could make them a healthy meal.” Her breath started to even out.

“Two Beret members came in and one distracted me with conversation as the other one knocked me out. I woke up and found myself down on the production floor. I tried to get away.”

Looking down she continues.“That’s when Dougier hit me to get me to stop. They tied me up. Dougier kept using that little needle and poking me. It was awful.” A stray tear slides down her cheek.

“The memories. So bad Your Grace. I am glad you killed him. He would only do it again.” She swings her feet back and forth looking sheepishly back at Wriothesley.

He sighs and pulls her into a hug. “You did good and I can tell you gave him hell. Tell you what, I will have one of your milkshakes everyday for the next week. Does that sound ok?”

Watching Sigewinnes face light up made him smile. “Yes, your Grace! I will make one for you right now to take with you!” With that Wriothesley finds himself walking back to his office sipping on a milkshake.

Flames licked the body as Wriothesley oversaw the cremation of Dougier’s body. This too was part of his duties.

Many of the residents in exile decide to stay in exile and meet their sunset in the Old Iron Lady’s cold arms.

Some deserved services, some did not. Dougier markedly did not. He would scatter his remains in the forgotten old Arkhium mine in the depth of the Fortress. Returning him to dust which was the best he deserved.

Dougier's aftermath of the Beret Society involved getting some help for the members. The lengths he went to gain power over the group made Wriothesley sick. He was glad he had put a stop to it.

His soul was a little more tarnished as he tallied one more murder onto it. He snapped at the sorry excuse for a human.

Instead, he should have kept his cool. That made him just as much a piece of shit as Dougier. He knew this, but he kept his title and kept running the Fortress.

People still depended on his sorry ass. Those poor people were subjected to the stone’s power over and over. He laughs darkly to himself. He was the only soul that deserved that level of punishment.

Settling in his drawer, he takes out the box he stashed. In there the same dark violet shimmer radiated off the stone. Dark, just like the effects he expected from touching it. Ha...he laughs in a low tone.

Knowing what he was about to commit. He deserved the punishment. With eyes wide open to lay his cut wounds bare. Grabbing the stone sitting forward, he prepares for the worst.

Loud crunches of snow met his ears, as the loud creak of a door opened. Shit he is tracking snow into the house. His parents will be so angry.

Anger?

Yes, he feels angry too… it rips through him. He carries a knife…. It feels so heavy with the task he has in mind.

Those two people…

Monsters….

His parents.

All he can think about is taking them out.

Blighted and corrupted...

Their sin eclipses the sun. An eclipse that reveals burning lies…

Images subdue his thoughts in darkness. The foyer, the kitchen, the basement, the office…

Not allowed in the office. The bedroom, they were asleep in the bedroom. Quiet house, no one stirring.

No noises…

Shh…

Quiet, have to be quiet.

It is just the thudding of his heart that is so loud. So loud it will wake them. Red everywhere. His body is so heavy.

“Ungrateful, Little asshole, trying to teach me a lesson?!”

Angry words swirl around….

Blood everywhere. His hands are covered….

It seeps on the floor. His boots are tracking it.

Bloody footprints scream his sins….

She woke up! She fights back….

She has the knife.

“I will kill you! Brat this is how you repay us!”

Her stinging words gather in his head like a swarm of angry bees. Searing pain in his neck. She hurts him.

Struggling limbs, he has the knife back….

Empty dead eyes stare back at him. Someone is screaming….

Keep stabbing. They aren’t dead.

It’s him, he’s screaming.

More blood.

It is everywhere. Soaking through the sheets. Through his clothes. It stains everything. His soul is stained with blood.

His white snow heart was now stained with blood.

Was there any white left? Is he just sin now?

All sin?

Opening his eyes. His hands are on his head cradling his temples. He is resting in his office chair.

Nothing had changed. It still feels dark. He adjusts the lights to a brighter level. They must have needed adjustment.

He sighs deeply and sits down putting the stone back in its drawer. Stacks of paperwork call his name. Every second of that memory, he deserved more. Work is important though. If he didn't, he'd be worthless.

Staying in the Iron Lady was the right choice. Deteriorating Neuvillette's reputation wasn't something he wanted.

The results of his debut were destructive, leaving a dent in Neuvillette's spotless reputation. Simply that date really secured his own wallowing seclusion.

Brief hints of those moments locked in his mind. They were sweet, delicate things he needed to protect. But he couldn't make out why it felt so right to kiss that ethereal being known as the Chief Justice.

Neuvillette felt like a piece of a puzzle that was missing from his box. He felt tethered to him. Every part of him wanted to go to the meetings and bathe in his presence, but he isn’t worthy enough.

Something stained and grotesque like him? Neuvillette was a sovereign dragon. He was royalty born to lead. Untouched and good.

Wriothesley was a contaminant. His very presence poisoned perceptions. Tarnishing the golden veneer of the office of the Iudex.

Day after day subsequent to the incident, Wriothesley’s thoughts weighed heavily on his mind, feeling restless, as he was drowned by thoughts of sins. His penance called to him.

He should touch the stone again.

There is not enough paperwork to drown his sins in. He deserves to sit in his dark thoughts. Emptiness kept plaguing him, even Sigewinne's visits didn't pull him up.

Hearing her mention the lights were too bright. He didn't know she was sensitive to light. Shrugging off her insistent offer to check him. In the end he really wanted to see.

Once again the deep violet black stone reflects into his eyes from his desk. Its familiar dark glow promised him deserved misery. He reverently touches the stone. His stomach drops. He is falling. Perspective shifting, it's so dark.

He feels cold again. Someone is yelling at him. Threatening him.

He feels small. It's the dorms where he is an inmate. This man, he never knew his name, he was yelling.

“You little thief. You give it back! I will beat it out of you!”

Scared, instinct took over. Right, Sigewinne says if you hit the temple hard enough he will go unconscious. Focus, breath, strike.

The man falls like a tree. Run...

Wait. Blood?

The man is not breathing, no movement. Vacant glassy eyes stare upwards. Those eyes are dead. He killed again.

Run.

He runs and runs.

It’s so dark. He sees a light, a single swinging lightbulb. He runs towards it. He’s in a small colorless room with a table and simple chairs. The room feels like it is spinning. He can’t focus on anything.

Everything is out of focus. He rubs his eyes hoping to make sense out of anything. His vision tunnels, he feels like he is traveling faster than he can think and standing still at the same time.

His vision crystalizes. Oh he remembers.

It’s Mescal sitting in the chair. He feels angry, it bubbles out of him. He needs to see all of this. His sins laid at his feet. He watches how he brutalized the man to death.

Face left unrecognizable. The refreshing calm of Neuvillette is strikingly missing from this vision. He would be given no recess. He needed this. He was made of all the blood he spilled. He turned around.

The room shifted under his feet. The scenery adjusted. The floor is familiar with its rusted coppery hue. The production floor. His most recent kill. Yes he murdered Dougier. He took out his anger on the way he hurt Sigewinne and disrupted the Fortress.

He used him as a boxing target. The finishing blow cracked loudly.

It echoed as he watched the dead man collapse in slow motion.

More blood.

His vision blurs.

It is cold again… snowing again.

Snowing over a pile of bodies. His victims piled together.

Limbs scattered and dead eyes staring through him. Snow keeps falling trying to cover his sins. But the blood.

The blood on his hands. It seeps out. Nothing is white. The bodies can’t be hidden. The blood is too thick.

Each fallen flake meets deep red. He falls to his knees. Anguish rips through him. He is empty inside.

He blinks. His world is still dark. He can’t feel the stone. He opens his eyes.

Did he turn the lights out? There are blobs of light. Some shades danced around his peripheral. Why can’t he see? He pushes his arms out on instinct to feel where he is.

Something hard and small is batted away by his sweeping hands. He hears porcelain shatter on the floor.

“Shit, that was my favorite tea cup.”

He rubs his eyes. Rare tears of frustration leak onto his palms. He is overwhelmed, emotionally drained, exhausted, and can’t see.

Nothing was keeping the stark images of bleeding bodies out of his mind. With his flagging eyesight, he could not rely on reading something to distract himself. What had gotten into him recently?

His original sin was done to stop his sibling’s pain, and his crime in prison had been self defense. But Mescal and Dougier felt different. As if an animal in him had been unleashed. Mescal had been defenseless. Dougier had been his charge.

Where had his long practiced self-control gone? He had spent this long decade working to become a better man. Physically stronger, mentally wiser, what had changed? Could he still call himself redeemed and a good man?

It still seemed within reach there was one person who still seemed at ease in his presence. His mind drifts towards Neuvillette. Their last moments together had been confusing, heated, passionate.

Somehow it seemed to tie back to the Iudex. Dazed in these thoughts, he was unsure how. He was receptive to being kissed after he pummeled a man to death.

Neuvillette was not afraid. Honestly, he wanted more than to kiss the man. Why was he thinking about Neuvillette after seeing piles of gore left in his wake?

Fear dripped into his consciousness from the recesses of his mind, but was it really fear or embracing the bloodlust once again. Entwining his soul with that dark taste would label him what he never intended to be, yet there was something so freeing in accepting it.

Slowly closing his palms he feels the touch of shame on his eyes, it streams hot tears down his face. Anger rose in each thought as he kept enduring this pull of connection.

Killing Dougier was a study in complete loss of control, but why didn’t he hold back? He tried so hard not to become what a real killer was.

His actions were impure, unjust, they stood in stark contrast of what he wanted to stand up for as a person.

Yet so easily he felt satisfied to give into the temptation to spill blood, it was almost quenching a dark impulse within his gut filling his veins with ecstasy.

Perhaps he was an Angel of Vengeance… he could do that. It felt as though it was an answer of a kind. His “victims” had been perpetrators of dark terrible deeds.

His actions stopped their ability to continue. Was it his place to judge them to eternal rest? Perhaps not, however he seemed to garner the attention of the being whose sole job was to judge.

Sighing, he carefully gropes around his desk hoping to get his bearings. His hands grasp a hard stone. Ice cold chills shudder down his back.

The feeling is different. A familiar energy surrounds him. An aura of power. Phantom arms embrace his shoulders.

A smooth, beckoning voice whispers in his ear and inside his head at the same time.

“My chosen one, I want you to see me, my past, and my fears laid before you. My offering to you, open your eyes to my truth.”

Wriothesley opens his eyes. Bright green grass, and unreal blue skies surround him. The ground shakes as truly impressive, beautiful magnificent beings come to meet a glowing, ethereal deity emanating dangerous levels of power from its place in the sky. The being was clad in gossamer sheer fabric, nearly nude, it favored neither gender.

Flowing hair, fierce facial features and a crown completed the appearance. A loud neutral voice projects from the sky.

“Your primitive world is mine now. It will be under my purview, the Primordial One. You will give the source of your power over. You have squandered your power and think of yourselves as gods. You will see what true power looks like.”

Two massive spears of light materialize at either side of the mysterious visitor.

“I will remake this world in my image. I will show you how a real God wields the power of this world.”

A massive, muscled dragon steps forward.

“I am Dragon Lord Nibelung, Sovereign Authority over Teyvat. We do not yield. You have no right to our resources and our world. We are not a part of you. We will not bow. You have come to the wrong world. If you expected us to lay down, you are gravely mistaken.”

The large dragon crosses his arms and stands his ground.

“Then you have condemned your people to death. Your world will be taken by force.”

The massive spears of blinding energy releases from the descender.

The ground erupts and immense bodies are thrown like they are dolls. The less hurt grab their wounded and retreat into the earth hoping to regroup and drive away this new threat.

Still images of the conflict filter through his vision. So much blood spilt that the nearby river runs red. Dragonkind large and small falling under brutal malice. Those left behind weeping with no solace. Weakened by decades of conflict, images of great sovereigns falling eviscerated.

Their authority ripped from their dying bodies. Vishaps retreating with their young into the ocean, the fear heavy in the air. Wriothesley feels his heart beating in time with theirs. Their fear grips him, spilling over into his consciousness.

He sees a gorgeous white immense dragon. Blue light radiates from graceful rhinophores. They are surrounded by water of a kind. It feels denser, swirling shades of pinks and purples, pulses of light and energy crackle through the liquid.

Magnificence radiates outwardly from the creature perched proudly in the center of its power. Wriothesley feels immediately at ease. He is safe. “His” dragon provides an aura of nurturing safety.

A sudden swirl of pinks and purples cloud his vision. A blur of white and blue breaks the surface of the water. Unknown forces throw a growling angered dragon through the air as if it were nothing more than a kitten.

Fear, anger, and resolve fill the air. Two apex predators stare each other down. Alien eyes glowing with amber geometric patterns meet familiar violet slitted eyes, both teaming with power and deadly intention.

An epic altercation opens up. Each being throwing their all into claiming victory. Bleak determination emanates from the white shimmering hydro sovereign as it utilizes any and all water sources at its command hoping it is enough.

The alien descender, having powers unknown and never before seen, blocks, parries, and wears down the dragon. Wriothesley feels every blow, stab, and cut. The alien is purposefully missing vital areas. Toying with the sovereign.

The battle rages for hours or days or even longer. There is no sense of time, Wriothesley just feels the dragon’s pain, determination, and knows even as the light drained from its eyes it was trying to stand back up and fight more.

A glowing mote of blue light emerges from the dragon. The stone faced god suddenly splits in two. A decidedly more feminine version of itself blinks into reality. The double is handed the blue mote of authority. She turns and smirks darkly at the dying dragon as she descends into the Primordial Sea.

Slowly coming back to himself he wonders what he had just seen. It was foreign to him and epic in magnitude. The fear and sadness and anger still resonates within his chest, he blinks attempting to ground himself. Eyes wide open, he has the faintest blurs of light on the edges of his vision.

Why couldn’t he see? What was happening to him? Panic begins to set in, he thinks of all the things he cannot do blind. Anger layers over the panic as the frustration of his reality hits him. He stands quickly smashing his shin into the large heavy desk. The sturdy leg guards he wears absorb the impact.

Determined to get this sorted out himself he starts walking the length of his office. Trying to feel it out and guess his location within it. The desk he started at was his only point of reference. He tries to draw out a mental map as he trips into his couch.

He thinks that he now has a general layout of the room. He starts to confidently cross the room. He steps expecting to hit more floor and feels himself freefalling. “Fuck!” Looks like he found the stairs. That was not the couch, it was the old chair he had up against the other wall…

He could not see what was coming. He knew it was best to protect his head and just let gravity take him. Attempting to brace himself would only cause further injury. As he tucked himself and cradled his head he felt the top of his shoulders hit the stairs followed by his lower back and sizable ass.

The momentum catches his boots which slam down next and capitulate his whole body into the wall. He falls a few more stairs with his knees being the main contact with the stairs. He finally meets the base of the stairs. The force of impact whips his upper body down to meet the floor. Fantastic, he thinks. Blind, face down and ass up, perfect. This is in no way humiliating at all.

As he is doing a self assessment of what hurts where all of his limbs ended up and how much trouble with Sigewinne he will be in, he hears the heavy door swing open.

“Your Grace!” She rushes over to his compromised body. “What are you doing? What happened? Did you fall down the stairs?!?!”

“No Winnie, “

He croaks out; he feels that his ribs are definitely bruised. “I was reading those popular Inuzuman light novels. This is a very popular position, so I thought I would try it out.”

She huffs out with exasperation. “Really, I find you splayed out and you make jokes?” She starts gently helping him move off the stairs.

“Is it just us Winnie?” he asks once she has him propped against the wall.

“Yes, Your Grace, do you see anyone else here?” He pauses and starts rubbing his hand on his thigh. He lets out a sigh, again forgetting his tender ribs.

“Winnie, I um, it's just that… I can’t see. I don’t know why. I have almost complete loss of sight. I have the vaguest sense of a light source.”

Sigewinne looks him over. Wriothesley can imagine her face is screwed up into her thinking face. Hand resting under her chin fingers tapping her cheek.

“Your Grace, I am going to give you an exam. I have to make an assessment of your injuries and I will also check your eyes. You are going to feel me removing your shirt. I want to see how bruised you already are.”

Wriothesley sits tight and allows her to handle him as if he is a doll. She asks him to follow a light. He only sees a light when he assumes it is in the far outside corners of his vision. Fuck, this is not good. He knows Sigewinne has her concerned face on.

“I have good news and bad news.” he can tell she is trying to keep her tone light for his sake.

“Hit me with the good news first.” He smiles in the direction her voice is coming from. “Well, you only seem to have superficial bruising. You will be a little sore but you have no severe injuries. You were able to bend your legs when I helped move you over here.”

“So the bad news is you are right, you have a pretty significant change to your iris. It is nearly completely white. I am surprised you are seeing even the faintest shades of light. I need a second opinion. I will be right back. I’ll get an express message out to them.”

Listening to her steps skip up the stairs, he is left to his thoughts. There is little else to distract him. This blindness must be some kind of karmic debt he is repaying. He deserved it. Born with stubborn grit, he would find ways to continue to live.

He was not the first blind person in Teyvat. Holding out for a cure would only slow him down. He needs to start learning to rely on his other senses. His vision had always been sharp. Knowing this, he could become just as effective at mapping out physical spaces and maneuvering them using sound, touch, and smell.

He was going to need to practice keeping his senses open. He is pulled out of his thoughts with a hand delicately placed over his hand.

“I am back Your Grace. I will keep you company until my assistant gets here. We can just talk about anything at all. It will be a little bit.”

Wriothesley raises an eyebrow.

“Oh? You have an assistant now? Do I know them? Who is it?” Sigewinne giggles. That sound warms Wriothesley.

“You do know them, and perhaps assistant is not the right word, but I think they are an expert on the situation. I will not spoil the surprise.”

As they sit to waste time, Wriothesley attempts to poke at this so-called special guest. They instead continuously joke and laugh the next couple of hours. A sudden knock breaks into their banter and he hears Sigewinne get up and answer.

His body instinctively turns towards the familiar aura. He picks up polite words being exchanged and recognizes the voice as the distinctive gait of the Iudex is heard entering.

“Your Grace, I was not expecting to be greeted by you seated on the floor. Quite unorthodox.” Wriothesley moves to get up and properly greet Neuvillette. He really wished he had figured out who the guest was. He should have known he would have seriously considered throwing himself down a second set of stairs.

Feeling two different hands keep him in place. “I jest, Your Grace. Sigewinne gave me enough information to know what I am dealing with here. Please remain seated. I wish the circumstances were better, though I am most happy to be in your presence again.”

Wriothesley hears the rustling of robes as Neuvillette turns to look at Sigewinne. “Thank you so much for your assistance, Sigewinne, I believe I can take things from here. I look forward to our next tea meeting.”

Sigewinne’s cheerful voice replies, “Oh, yes, of course Monsieur Neuvillette. I will hold down the fort, Your Grace!” With the resounding echo of the heavy door closing they are alone.

“We need to get you out of the middle of your entryway, Your Grace. Would you accept my assistance? I know you to be a very capable person but your affliction is very new. I don’t imagine you have grown accustomed to it.” Neuvillette leans down and firmly grabs Wriothesley’s forearm.

“Thank you Monsieur, yes I will reluctantly take your help this time. I took a bit of a tumble down the stairs doing things on my own earlier.” He smiles charmingly out of habit. Helped up to his feet he allows Neuvillette to lead him up the stairs.

Settling back in his chair, Neuvillette decides to lean against his desk keeping their bodies touching as his thigh presses into the outside of Wriothesley’s.

“Proprietary would lead me to take a seat on the couch, I wish to remind you with physical grounding touch that you are not alone. Would you be kind and tell me what has been happening up until now. I have some theories, but I will need your experience to confirm.”

“I also insist that if you require anything at all you ask me.” Wriothesley could feel the electric energy running through his body from where Neuvillette touched him.

He wanted to lean in and just be held by the man. He shook off the thought. Right now, he needs to keep his mind clear. He had been avoiding Neuvillette for months for a reason. It was time he stopped thinking so selfishly.

“I would say it is a pleasure to see you but uh… sorry bad joke… Long story short we had an inmate want to take over. I dealt with it. He was using that weird rock on my desk to get other inmates to comply.”

He sighs, continuing. “If you have contact with it, or the liquid in it you see dark memories from your past. I was… investigating the rock. Saw a few unpleasant things and now I can’t see at all.” Wriothesley shrugs and adjusts his weight in the chair closer to Neuvillette.

“I have heard of this. It is condensed fear. As sinthe can bring feelings of happiness and joy this brings manifestations of fear. It is all rooted in water’s ability to carry memories and emotions. In the primordial sea that ability is magnified. I do think I have a way to assist but without my full authority it will only be temporary.”

“I will need to keep giving it to you and inbetween you will need to find new ways to navigate with limited vision. I have a skill to teach you that will be helpful in that regard as well.” Wriothesley sighs.

“Do you know if it is possible to see other people’s memories through the stone?” Wriothesley folds his hands on his lap and continues.

“I think I saw your previous incarnation and your death? But that seems impossible. But, what I saw can’t be explained any other way. I saw a huge white dragon with blue head things.”

He stops to mime their location on his head. “You are beautiful now Monsieur. As a dragon you were breathtaking. I watched you fight to your last breath. I watched you die and lose your authority.”

He reaches out and feels for Neuvillette’s arm. He feels down his arm until he can enfold his hands with Neuvilette’s. “I am so sorry. I felt your pain and the fear of your people. You all did everything you could. I feel like it's a treasure to know this part of you.”

Neuvillette smiles purple slit irises fixed on his chosen. “Yes, those are mine. My previous life. I have slowly regained some of those memories. I am truly glad to have you be the only soul to have this knowledge of me.”

“The Primordial Sea was the seat of my power. I was the ‘heart’ of the sea. Original God of Life.” he huffs out a breath with disdain.

“Stolen from me by force. This descended alien wanted all of our powers collectively in their hands. My goal is to have my authority returned to me. I owe you an apology. I could not have foreseen your loss of eyesight.”

Wriothesley laughs darkly. “I kept touching the thing. How could you have known any of this? You…” Wriothesley stops, he remembers hearing Neuvillette’s voice in his head both times he killed recently. Neuvillette had knowledge of this stone and he can tell the dragon is not telling him everything.

He doesn’t have to have eyesight to hear the tells in his tone. Now he is apologizing. Wriothesley knew this was an ‘“I am culpable” sorry and not an “I sympathize with you” sorry. They weigh differently as they are spoken. “You somehow did this?”

“I will answer you honestly. I would like to share one more story. You deserve the truth. Do you know the name Vautrin?”

Neuvillette holds tightly to Wriothesley’s hand; he wants him to stay close, hear him. He watches as Wriothesley furrows his brow thinking. “Yes, I recall the name. He founded the Mutual Aid Society. I don’t know a lot about why he was here.”

“I suppose your knowledge would pick up where mine ended. He was Captain of the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol. He supported me as I sought to honor the wishes of the melusines. They had fallen in love with humanity and wanted to be closer to them.”

“I had formed the Marechaussee Phantom to provide jobs for the melusines. Four Hundred years ago several odd things were happening and humans blamed my melusines. An excuse to shun them.”

“Carole was exceptional. She wanted humans to accept them and she worked hard towards that. There was a loud group of humans who did not want me to be Iudex and did not want melusines in Fontaine.”

“They tricked her, leading her to a crime scene, then accusing her of murder. They incited a rebellion. It escalated to physical fighting between those that supported me and those who did not. My little Carole sacrificed herself with her own hands to end the fighting. Vautrin exacted his own vengeance against the men who tricked her. That is why he was here. I sentenced him.”

“I struggle to understand humanity on their best days. I tried to persuade the melusines to stay in their village. I did not want them hurt. Those that stayed wanted to. I will admit something I have admitted to no one. You deserve to know it. I began to resent humanity that day.”

“I have not seen much in the courtroom to change my mind. With the exception of you.” Neuvillette looks at Wriothesley’s face, wrapped in thought. He knew this careful, deliberate human was beginning to place his words into context.

“I am listening your honor. If I am following correctly you have been watching humanity for generations and somehow have found value in me?” he scoffs.

“I am a sinner. The worst of the worst. I have killed multiple times. Some of them at your behest and possibly innocent. What does that make me?” he scoffs and looks down at the floor ashamed. He continues darkly. “Your attention should be directed at someone like Navia who truly champions for her people.”

Neuvillette shifts closer to Wriothesley with his stance. “Your Grace, I do not want to startle you but I feel compelled to touch your face. Would you allow me to?”

Wriothesley, dumbfounded, simply nods. He feels his cheeks cradled in gloved hands, electricity shoots through him.

The touch is intoxicating and he leans into it.

“You are so perfect. I have watched you. I have tested you. In order to see my truths you had to face all of your own fears. You had to keep going back and see all you had in you to fear. Don’t you see that you have done that? You have no fear anymore, you are free.”

Realization strikes Wriothesley, Neuvillette had been orchestrating this behind the scenes. Tears begin to fall from his eyes. “You.. You did this to me? You had me spiraling, reliving all my nightmares? Why? You could have just had me over for tea and told me your story. I would have believed you.”

Neuvillette gently wipes tears away. “Yes. I did this. No, you needed to see what I saw. You needed to feel what they felt and what I felt. I wish there had been an easier way but there wasn’t. This may be the most important moment of your life. Commit to it. These people, they took everything they could from you, they took your sense of family, they took your siblings, they made you a sensational headline then forgot you”

“They want to deny your rightful claim to your title. They put you in here to bury their secrets. To silence you, but you flourished. You have faced your death countless times, and conquered your fear. Wriothesley.” Neuvillette, combs his fingers through silver peppered tufts of hair. “You are calm, You are still, try to feel now what you felt then.”

Neuvillette’s words wash through Wriothesley. His heart is beating hard, as he is being cradled so kindly, he needs this reassurance. Reaching out, he pulled himself into Neuvillette’s chest. Tears are still silently pouring out onto Neuvillette’s expensive clothing. He makes no noise. He should be furious, why isn’t he furious?

This man had manipulated his emotions and admitted to it. But no, Wriothesley wants to stay in the arms of this righteous wronged dragon. He wants to listen to him. He feels that Neuvillette is his personal God of Life.

Now, he has been reborn, baptized in blood. Blind as a newborn eager to see with new eyes. Drunk on feelings he did not completely understand. “You said my name.”

There is a pause before Neuvillette responds. “Yes, among other things. Forgive my informal address. I wanted to be as direct with you as possible. You deserved that. You always deserved the truth.”

“I need to ask you one more thing. The manner in which I administer the cure is quite intimate. You see, I’m the source of the cure. As you will need to take it from me. I will not force that on you, but only need your consent.”

Wriothesley pushes out of Neuvillette’s arms. His ears have got to be playing tricks on him. Maybe this is all a dream. He can’t see expressions. Neuvillette is not really one to joke. Even if this is a dream it is beyond any lingering fantasy he has ever had.

This man had taken up the corners of his mind for months. He thinks about the blood on his hands, the sovereign's downfall he just witnessed and internalized, the parents who trafficked him…and this tantalizing sensation. He wants this feeling…craves it like a starving wolf craves its next kill.

He knows that doing this will cement him as Neuvillette’s chosen. He had overcome a great deal to be here right now. This man has picked him out of centuries of humans. Neuvillette has a vision, a plan and direction.

He no longer has to fear his skills. He will become the chosen one for Neuvillette’s ideals and Neuvillette will be his dragon. His eyes gleam dull gray with an unfathomable look of desire. He smiles disarmingly in the direction of Neuvillette’s voice. “I am all in. I am all yours.”

“Excellent. Well then I need to rearrange us a little. Please take my hand,” Wriothesley feels a firm arm and grabs onto it. He is pulled to his feet. He follows Neuvillette’s lead and is sat back down, it must be the couch. A hand pats his thigh.

“I just need to prepare myself. I will not be away from your side for long.” Wriothesley hears the rustling of clothing. He imagines the justice is removing clothing. Damn his luck, what a time to not have access to the visual of what he hears. He can hear Neuvillette’s footsteps approach him.

“I am ready, I will need to sit facing you on your lap. May I do so?” Wriothesley grins and nods. He feels weight rest on his lap and hands grip his shoulders as Neuvillette balances himself. “Is this comfortable?”

Wriothesley swallows and nods again. This is unbelievable. Neuvillette fits so well on his lap. He remembers how well they fit together dancing. “I need to guide you.”

Wriothesley feels his arms being moved. His hands are placed on skin. “My arms, my biceps, please feel them. Get your bearings.” Wriothesley caresses the skin he feels. It is soft with small tear-dropped scales. Wriothesley leans forward and kisses the skin under his finger tips. “I bet they are as beautiful as I imagine.”

Wriothesley grins, he imagines Neuvillette blushing, how adorable he looks in his mind. He hears a cough. “Now, I will direct your attention here.” He moves Wriothesley’s hands and places them on his pectoral muscles. “I implore you to explore with your touch.” Wriothesley feels soft skin and lean muscle under the skin. He molds his hands to feel the surface area.

Squeezing his fingers into willing flesh. His breath hitches, he feels a little dizzy. He feels Neuvillette’s nipples taut and ready under each palm, and he can feel Neuvillette’s eyes on him. Grinning wolfishly, he takes the left nipple between two of his fingers pinching it. Neuvillette lets out a muted swallowed moan.

“Sweetness, I need you to let go.” He feels Neuvillette push into him with his hips. “Yeah, just like that. You make all the noises you want. I bet this is going to feel good for you.”

“I want to savor every piece, I want you to remember this.”

Leaning closer he replaces nimble fingers with his mouth. Positioning small light bites on the supple nipple. Rewarded with gracious moans. Wriothesley's mouth draws over entirely and deepens with his teeth. Sucking reverently. Feeling hands stabilize his head in place. He wraps his arms around Neuvillette's smaller frame.

Wrapped in sensations, Wriothesley feels like he is floating on air. He hears little moans of pleasure, feels the needy pressure of Neuvillette in his lap. Smells the light fragrance of petrichor, and tastes, ah, divinity on his tongue.

More he needs more. It tastes like nothing he has ever had. He feels the sweet liquid slide down his throat. He sucks harder, crushing Neuvillette into him. More glorious ichor floods his mouth. His eyes are closed. He had been so lost in having Neuvillette this close.

He opens his eyes. Coming into focus is Neuvillette’s face. What a vision. His hair was untied, untamed and surrounded them in a protective vale. Purple, slit eyes blown out with pleasure and unfocused.

His mouth was open as noises of pleasure and half formed words spilled from perfect lips. He licks over the nipple, feeling the ripple of pleasure shiver through Neuvillette’s body as he holds him. “Fuck, look at you. I…”

Desire takes over Wriothesley’s mind; he kisses Neuvillette deeply. He feels Neuvillette respond sinking into the kiss as their tongues taste each other. The sweet ichor is still clinging to his tongue. Neuvillette pulls away.

“Beloved you taste…” Wriothesley chuckles, “I taste like you, sweetness, I want to see you as I taste more of you.” He takes in all of Neuvillette with his newly reclaimed sight. He runs his hand down Neuvillette’s chest from his sternum to his belly button.

How is so much beauty able to reside in one perfect being? Neuvillette begins unbuttoning Wriothesley’s dress shirt, pulling it out to palm Wriothesley’s muscled, scarred, ample chest. Wriothesley takes in the sight of his dragon. He feels overwhelmed as he recognizes the lust, and craving in Neuvillette’s eyes. To be wanted like this is a drug.

Suddenly a deep rumbling noise punctuates the atmosphere. Wriothesley knows there is very little directly below him. There is only one thing that could be causing such a disruption. He senses Neuvillette tense up, he hears it too. Wriothesley knows now what’s happening.

“The Sluice Gate!” They both say in unison. Neuvillette leaps off his lap and grabs his shirt. They run together down the stairs. Hopefully they will be in time to stop the breach.

Chapter Text

Wriothesley rushes forward, finding his legs springing him with speed he has never experienced before. Outpacing Neuvillette by some measure he reaches the Forbidden Zone in record time.

The vault door that kept deadly waters at bay trembled under sharply increasing pressure. Loud, clanging noises echo off the walls of the circular chamber. His heart beats faster as adrenaline bursts into his bloodstream.

Bent over an old railing he sees the gauge dangerously topped out. The seal would not hold. It was going to burst violently. Steeling himself he manifests his gauntlets. Power surged through them anticipating action.

Copper bolts frantically fly from the sudden pressure, a high spray curls into the air as the Primordial sea sends greedy tendrils to consume the displaced equilibrium.

In a cascade of quick succession more bolts fall prey to the pressure. All at once the cover explodes with the forced weight of an angry sea. Towering violet rose water brims with volatile movement into the air. Wriothesley breaths and lets out a guttural cry as he punches a burst of Cryo. Solid ice walls form from the deadly fountain into a crystalline statue.

Wriothesley backs up not taking his eyes off the tenuous reprieve. One. Two. Three. He counts as he keeps his breathing steady. The ice will break. He needs to be ready and time this perfectly or he will die. Four. Five.

Seconds tick by in time with his heartbeat. The ice dam he hastily threw up bursts. The Primordial Sea is now a raging river. A torrent corales in the only direction it could go. Wriothesley pumps his legs in a dead run. He needs to out pace this flood.

Spray nips at his heels. He needs to go faster. He needs to get more distance. Digging deeply into reserves of will he pushes himself. His breathing is heavy, his heart beat loud in his ears.

Six. Seven. He leaps forward rolling onto his back to face the tidal wave head on. It's right on top of him. He miscalculated. He did everything he could. He is going to die. It's going to crush him. He holds his hands out to create an ice barrier.

Eerie blue light fills the electrified air, as a loud in-human roar echoes through the chamber. Time seems to stand still. The water is held at bay as Neuvillette steps to his side. Footfalls so light no sound reverberates. Spurred by adrenaline, Wriothesley springs to his feet.

Intense, angry, focused purple slitted eyes look down at Wriothesley. “My chosen, you're perfect just as you stand. It is not the time to fall victim to the great destructive wrath within this ocean.”

Wriothesley feels the power dripping off of Neuvillette. Before his eyes Neuvillette simply held out his hand and stopped the flow of erupting waters. The dragon walks with intent directing the water with his will alone.

Silver hair billows gracefully as wind blows from the force of the power. Wriothesley attempts to calm himself as he is sole witness. Neuvillette stands tall before the gate. With both hands on the head of his cane he strikes the ground hard.

“The Primordial Sea will not breach this land until I have been fully restored. It will not strike its curse on this land until my final judgment is made.”

Power snaps and water rushes backwards as quickly as it had stampeded down the hallway. Wind rushes blowing Neuvillette’s hair and open shirt as he places his own seal which glows a deep blue with patterned sigils. The chaotic consuming ocean left no trace at all.

Neuvillette is the picture of calm and looks pristine. Not even his meticulously placed hair pin had moved. Wriothesley’s gaze raked over Neuvillette’s exposed chest. In his haste to assist he had not bothered to button it.

Thoughts clash in his mind, he snaps back to the moment just before his almost inevitable death. Yet now, he gazes at his savior. Blue scales reflect on the dragon's bare chested skin with his lean muscle curving down beneath form fitting trousers. His scales glimmer more with each step the man takes towards him.

Wriothesley was captivated. Desire pulses through his blood with each step Neuvillette takes closer to him. Both gloves are smoothly removed and tossed to the side as an afterthought. Crowding his space Neuvillette lifts his chin with a clawed hand. “Are you alright?” Wriothesley remembers to breathe, and swallows hard.

“Yeah, fine. Not a scratch.” Mesmerizing, slitted eyes meet icy blue ones, threads of need coil out of the energy passing between them. “Good, I find this interruption has not diminished my desire for you.”

Lust overrides Wriothesley’s brain. He doesn't want to be held like a precious thing. He wants to take anything and everything his savior offers him. Neuvillette is not given an opportunity to continue to speak. His mouth devours any further words.

Strong hands drag Neuvillette’s shirt off of him, then pull him into a crushing embrace. Their mouths entangle with tongues burning like the fury’s torch, continuing the stoking of their tastes on each other like deprived beasts.

Spit slick mouths slow their intensity briefly as the dragon's forked tongue slips out, he licks his lips pleased. Then viciously rips apart Wriothesley’s shirt, scattering the buttons to welcome the dragon’s need.

Tattered cloth falls down, as eager clawed hands touch the willing flesh exposed. He pushes into Wriothesley’s broad scarred muscles, sliding each tip of his claw against bruised flesh leaving thin traces of scarlet dripping down latitudinous shoulders.

Ecstasy and lust override Wriothesley’s whole body, making him curve his back. His cock already hard strains against his tight pants. Crushed so closely together he feels Neuvillette’s reciprocal need pressed against him.

Deep mauve predatory eyes stare into his chosen weapon. He moves his arm slithering up into charcoal hair, pulling Wriothesley’s head back with ease. “I need you …Wriothesley. I must have you right now.” His tongue grazes up his ear from below two silver bands to the top. “You are the only one, all for me to take…my Chosen.”

Wriothesley sees the flash of sharp fangs as he feels seering painful pleasure rip into his throat. Neuvillette’s strong hips thrust into him at the same time. “Fuck….hmphhhhh…take whatever you need!”

He feels the adrenaline of sensation prick each vein as blood-slaked lips find his lips. He can taste the tang of his blood as they deepen the kiss. Wriothesley is only partially aware of strong hands removing his belt and impatiently opening and pushing them down.

Feeling the chill of the air against his exposed cock he grinds into Neuvillette’s steel strong hips seeking friction. In one fluid motion the dragon grabs his body, flipping him towards the metal wall. Bracing himself, one claw grasps his cock while the other grips his chest. Purred words filter into his ear. “You are perfect. Look at you, your body is a work of art. All mine.”

Neuvillette’s hydro slick hand strokes Wriothesley’s achingly hard cock. Blood drenched fangs bite hard into Wriothesley’s back claiming another scar. Lapping at the wound he possessively growls, “Mine.” Pleasure, pain, desire, and need all fight for supremacy within Wriothesley. “Fuck” he groans, “I’m close, if you keep..”

Neuvillette’s hand stops stroking his cock and grabs it firmly at the base. He nuzzles into Wriothesley’s ear. “I am not nearly finished with you. You’ll be good for me.” Neuvillette’s free hand strokes down the side of his face. “I want you to come when I am inside you.”

Wriothesley has never been this viscerally turned on. Every nerve in his body is singing. He feels Neuvillette shifting behind him realizing he is slipping his own trousers down. Neuvillette slides two delicate fingers through a still bleeding bite wound then holds those two fingers out mixing swirling hydro blue with bright red.

“Beloved I need your cryo for but a moment to freeze my fingers please.” Wriothesley complies only to moments later understand what he has just done.

Ice cold sensations enter him. It is fiercely unexpectedly delicious. Neuvillette’s fingers skillfully find the sweet bundle of nerves. “Fuck, that’s amazing.” Neuvillette keeps pumping his cryo laced fingers into Wriothesley. He watches enraptured as Wriothesley writhes in pleasure.

Every curse, moan, and errant word muttered felt like a prayer to Neuvillette. He removes his fingers and lines his hard throbbing ready cock to Wriothesley’s entrance. “I want to see how well you take me”

He feels Wriothesley relax as he pushes in. He grabs Wriothesley’s hips and slowly bottoms out observing every quiver, hiss, and moan Wriothesley makes. Neuvillette licks Wriothesley’s neck stopping at the base of his ear.

“You take me so well. So good for me. So perfect. I always knew you were the one.” He removes himself completely then thrusts forward filling Wriothesley completely. “Shit Neuvillette! Yes Please. More! Fuck me just like that.”

Neuvillette pounds into Wriothesley with unexpected speed. Letting his need consume him he takes his pleasure grabbing the man’s hips with bruising clawed fingers leaving red-stained divots. “I have wanted you for months,” a possessive dark purr rumbles through his body.

“Avoiding my office for so long has only increased my need.” Wriothesley pants, as Neuvillette destroys him with his cock. The motions are all hard and angles there is no tenderness between them.

Everytime the sensitive bundle of nerves inside him is slammed into his body sings with pleasure. Wriothesley can feel how desired he is. Every touch brands his skin with heat and need. His consciousness is filled completely with Neuvillette. “I feel so full. So good. Fuck this is so good. I… I’m close.”

Neuvillette grabs his aching dripping cock. His voice thick with a growl. “Yes, come for me, My Beloved Chosen. For. Me.” A loud roar echoes through the empty room as both come together.

Wriothesley had never been consumed with lust like this nor had he felt this intoxicated with pleasure. Wobbly legs indicate his energy is flagging. Strong arms picked him up and he found himself set gently onto Neuvillette’s lap.

“My Duke, you have to finish your medicine. A full dose will give you more time with your sight. I insist.” Cradling his head, Neuvillette holds him in a position where he can access his nipple easily.

“Neuvillette, that was really, I haven’t ever, that was incredible. You are fucking gorgeous.” Neuvillette smiles and gestures for him to start sucking. “Thank you, I feel similarly please take your medicine.”

Wriothesley latches onto Neuvillette’s nipple. The liquid flowing into his throat is so delicious. He drinks and drinks. In the haze of post orgasm he feels so comfortable in Neuvillette’s arms.

Waves of exhaustion float on the periphery of his consciousness. He really wants to stay awake, but too many things are working against him. As he drinks his fill, his savior’s voice says, “Sleep.” and he does.

Music filters into Wriothesley’s consciousness. Its familiar chords conjure memories of swirling on a dance floor with a devilishly handsome dragon. Heated pleasure manifests in his core as remembered moments of those first touches flash in his mind. Neuvillette had looked exquisite. It seems appropriate he would become a gossamer imprint in his dream.

Eyes still closed he feels the deep ache that was evidence of his earlier carnal activities. He stretches and it feels good, a good ache from being used well. Good things did not happen to him.

There had to be more to all of this. Why him? And why was he so spellbound by those piercing purple eyes?

The sheets surrounding him are expensively soft. Ice blue eyes open to an expansive circular room. Tiling in golds and blues covers the floor in aesthetic mosaic patterns.

The bed is massive and carved out of wood, a dark blue sinfully supple sheet covers him. It slips to his waist as he sits up. He is shirtless, left only in uniform trousers. Tall bookcases against the walls stocked with rows of leather bound books. Thick drapes cascade framing large floor to ceiling windows spaced symmetrically around the room.

“You have awakened, how do you feel?” Neuvillette comes into view approaching the bed with soft footfalls. His usual spats and shoes were removed. He is dressed in just his white poet blouse and high waisted trousers. His hair is tied back closer to the nape of his neck showing more graceful planes of his neck as he sits down on the bed.

“I feel great. Sore in good ways.” Wriothesley smiles wryly as he pushes his hair back. “Where am I exactly?”

“The Tower of Ipsissimus is my true home. I know this is much to take in all at once, but I have much to tell you. Especially regarding your elemental abilities. First, I would like to give you a tour and that's if you're up for it.”

“Can you manage that?” Neuvillette extends his hand as he stands up to assist the warden. He accepts the hand and finds his feet with ease. “Sure, uh, you didn’t happen to get me a shirt did you?”

The dragon quickly scans his muscled torso looking slightly disappointed, looks away towards a neatly folded pile of clothing. “Yes of course.” handing a clean pressed shirt over he turns his back giving a cough. “I trust you rested comfortably.”

“Slept like a rock. I feel better than I have in a while. They give out towers for becoming a dragon sovereign?” A soft chuffing chuckle answers him as he looks around taking in more of the impressive architecture.

He only buttons the bottom half of the shirt leaving most of his ample chest exposed. It is not one of his shirts, it's small across his chest. “If a tour of the mysterious tower is what the doctor orders, who am I to say no?”

He steps forward to stand next to his host. The ever present pull towards the man is strong. Warmth flushes his cheeks as he observes Neuvillette’s casual appearance. The cuffs of his shirt are rolled up exposing slim forearms dusted with luminous blue scales. His poet blouse meticulously tucked into high waisted trousers that accentuated his lithe frame. Piercing purple eyes catch him staring.

Smiling disarmingly he offers the crook of his elbow. “Forgive my impolite groggy brain. I am at your disposal. I would love to see your home, Monsieur.” Neuvillette takes the offered gesture by hooking his arm. Wriothesley is rewarded with another fond huffed chuckle. “Wriothesley, I believe you and I are beyond honorifics. Please call me Neuvillette.”

“Neuvillette it is.” he smiles brightly as he has been gifted a particularly rare treasure. Neuvillette gestures around the circular room. “Of course you know this is my bedroom, it is also my study.” he points over to an impressive desk between two large bookcases.

“This way please.” A pillar to the side is hollow and seems to be a lift. They fit snugly into the tube. Wriothesley feels heat emanating from every point the Iudex has pressed against him. He swallows attempting to keep his mind focused on paying attention to the tour. He should not be thinking about bending his dragon over the ornate desk he had just seen.

The room underneath is very unusual. “This tower was built by the Narzissenkreuz Ordo, a group who started off with good intentions but ultimately became a thorn in the side of Fontaine. The leader became obsessed with his vision and sought immortality and power.

Thinking that he could force a rebirth cycle on the world and he could somehow bypass the primordial sea rising.” He gestures to several platforms and large turning gears in the center of the room.

“They had put a great deal of their attention on this Doomsday clock which is now simply gears and moving parts. The true significance of this tower is its connection to the Primordial Sea. I used to be the seat of its power. I feel a deep connection to it. You saw a minimal display of my control down by the seal.”

Wriothesley looks around and remembers to close his mouth. This was quite a lot. The bookcases continued on this level. Through two large windows sunlight streamed in casting beams of light across the floor.

It made the room feel sacred somehow. He had never really thought much about any of the archons. The hydro archon seemed more of a figurehead at best. He would not bow before any archon. He would bow before his sovereign dragon though.

“So moving the madly rushing river of water was a fraction of your ability?” the dragon nods his head giving a small smile. Wriothesley could feel his heart betraying his attempt to stay calm and collected. “Speaking of your prowess and skill, I didn’t thank you properly for saving my life, I was uh distracted.” He grins, winning the sight of a faint pink blush rising to the dragon’s cheeks.

“I would do it again and again. You are my chosen one. You are mine now, No harm will ever come to you again.” Wriothesley feels slender fingers caress his upper shoulder where he was bitten earlier. “Admiring your work?” he cheekily banters. Intense purple eyes look up at him.

“Yes, I am. It is a beautiful mark.” Chills of anticipation run down Wriothesley’s back as he coughs trying to ground himself. Neuvillette is still clinging to his arm. The closeness is somehow more intimate than their rough coupling had been.

“Much of the tower is the same. I have removed all traps and puzzles for my own ease. Any manuscript of value has been added to my personal library. There is only one more thing to show you.”

Wriothesley focuses on keeping pace with the dragon. They continue lower into the under chambers of the tower. There is a large seal glowing faintly of blue. “Please stay clear of the seal; it is imbued with reinforcing electro. It is meant to keep my guest bound to the tower. Petrichor!” he calls out.

“I summon you to meet my chosen one.” Wriothesley feels heat rush to his cheeks. The Iudex keeps referring to him as his chosen. He still is not quite sure what he has been chosen for. He files the thought away for later.

An unusual looking Hydro Tulpa floats up closer to the transparent seal. It appears to be wearing armor and is more of a gray slate blue. “Respect my name, beast, I have become Narzissenkreuz!”

Neuvillette’s eyes darken but his tone remains neutral. “You came when I called, implying the researcher Rene de Petrichor is still at the core of you. I will not allow you to remove yourself from what you did by calling you another name.”

Wriothesley thinks the creature regards him. He has never seen anything like it before. He isn’t sure how it gets its information as there are no eyes to focus on. “I am Duke Wriothesley, Lord Incognito of our Lady Meropide. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He flashes a charming smile and is met with cold indifference.

The same disembodied voice retorts. “I care not for your pet. Why have you summoned me dragon?” Neuvillette responds with an insouciant glance. He holds his hand out as if he is holding an imaginary sphere.

An otherworldly scream echoes from the creature as a sphere of purple-pink swirling water filters through the seal hovering above Neuvillette’s clawed tensed hand. Wispy tendrils of faintly lit currents of energy flowed from the creature into the spinning sphere of water.

After a few moments the creature stops writhing and the scream ceases. In Neuvillette’s other hand a crystalline goblet appears; he dips the goblet into the swirling water filling it up and hands it to Wriothesley.

“Drink up for me, this will help attune you to your abilities and if I am correct it should resonate with what I have already given you and provide you with even further power.”

Wriothesley generally isn’t keen on drinking unknown substances unless at the hand of his head nurse. He truly had no idea what was in her “health shakes.”

Neuvillette manifested another goblet and filled his own cup. He watched the man tip the cup back and drank as though he had an unquenchable thirst. Head back water overflowed the side of the cup drenching his white shirt now plastered to his body. Refilling the goblet he repeats this mesmerizing ritual. Wriothesley begins drinking, unable to take his eyes away from the vision in front of him.

Neuvillette drained four glasses to Wriothesley’s one. Seeing the Iudex so uninhibited was affecting him. He adjusts his stance to hopefully reduce how obvious the tightness in his trousers was becoming. He coughs drawing Neuvillette’s attention as he wipes his chin with his bare palm.

“Forgive me, I seem to have lost all my manners. This close to my origins, it unleashes parts of me that are normally locked away.” He looks down at the pathetic slumped creature.

“Do not worry about that creature. He used to be the leader of the Narzissenkreuz Ordo and human. He dabbled in several dark studies without fully understanding them. What you saw was the result.”

Piercing eyes scan Wriothesley’s face. He feels naked under that stare. No parts of him can hide. “You drank down the cup in its entirety, correct?” Wriothesley nods dumbly as the embellished chalice is taken from his hand.

He follows Neuvillette, feeling still quite tethered to the older man. He was hoping that he would get some answers. What new powers? Why was he here? Why had he been “chosen”? Why was he being asked to kill so much? Why was he feeling so drawn in?

Questions rotate in his mind as Neuvillette gestures to him to go back. As they traverse through the familiar tower, with each step Wriothesley's mind feels heavy with the weight of several feelings. Pulling past this addictive confusing presence within. He draws out what he felt.

Is it distraught...angered.. resentful? Something twists and curls in his core as he notices Neuvillette has stopped in front of a teal blue loveseat. Sitting down he contemplates each move the ethereal man makes before him.

“Please take your time. Gather your thoughts.”

Wriothesley runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I do have a lot of questions, that is an understatement. So can we start with the talking water armor? The narcissist? Why did we drink his bath water?”

Neuvillette blinks and smiles slightly. “That creature has been absorbing power through the primordial sea, it is able to refill my power stores quickly. I have been getting memories back a little. I do not know what powers you will develop but I hypothesize you will have some new abilities permanently.”

Wriothesley tenses under the intense gaze of the other man.. “So you use that guy like a battery for yourself, and you want me to be stronger for your own purposes.”

“Yes, you can definitely sum it up that way.” he takes a deep breath and continues. “It is not merely for my own purposes. I wish to raise you to my equal in power. A reward for your hard work.”

Scaled slim hands reach out to comfort Wriothesley grabbing his hand. Realization of various manipulations in his life hit him all at once. He pulls back his hand crossing his arms to keep his distance. Confusion and anger bubble up as he levels the dragon with a darkened expression.

“Let me get this straight, Monsieur.” He notices his return to a proper address stings the striking man before him. Good, he had meant his barbed words to hurt.. “My reward, as you say, is to be drugged against my will for your benefit?”

“I don’t remember any conversation where you asked me if this is what I wanted.” Neuvillette reaches out to place a hand on his leg. Trying to ground him, calm him down, part of him craves that, but he needs clarity right now.

Abruptly he stands and steps away. “No, monsieur, I notice I'm not entirely myself around you. Please, I need space.”

Wriothesley knows the powerful being could eviscerate him. He is taking a chance with his life here. But he has to know what is going on. No longer anything but anger resided. Has he had any autonomy these past few months? Towering over Neuvillettes seated frozen perfection. How easily it would be to give in and ask forgiveness at his feet... But he needed answers.

“My sincerest and deep apologies, Wri….Your Grace.” Neuvillette gives a dry cough and continues. “I had to approach all of this carefully. If I hadn’t slowly introduced you to my nature.” he looks down at his empty hands.

“If I had just told you who I was and what I needed you for on our first meeting, would you have believed me?”

Wriothesley begins to pace. He needed to keep level headed. “Whether I believe you or not is not my point. I asked why you continued to experiment on me without my consent.”

“To be blunt and truthful..”

“Yes, all of the truth, out on the table.” Wriothesley interrupts.”I deserve that much at the very least.”

Neuvillette looks up at his eyes. Wriothesley sees sadness and shades of regret, they look back at hands that have not moved from his lap. “You were one of several candidates I was vetting. I realized recently that I held you as more than the weapon I was seeking to create.”

“Maybe that you’d be a weapon I could mold, mobile deadly and that I could wield to my will was my ultimate goal. I fear my separate nature has forgotten how complex human emotion and motivations are. I never considered how you would feel about becoming stronger.”

Wriothesley stops dead in his tracks again putting things together. The stone, the weird feeling he had around the man, the term “chosen one,” and why had he insisted on Wriothesley sucking his tits dry? He continues darkly.

“So I won your little lottery? Has our entire relationship been manufactured for some sick fantasy? My life and memories and feelings are just funny little quirks you could ignore as long as I fuck shit up for you? Is that why you keep calling me the chosen one?” His voice is louder than he intends something had broken loose inside him.

Wriothesley seethes at the dragon's serene unmoving face. “"Only in the end I wanted to choose you. Every moment since you've gone to the confines of prison. I've watched you.”

“Sigewinne wrote to me in such a compelling manner about you. So I gave her instructions to imbue her health shakes with my essence, Ischus. I utilize it in several ways, however in your case I wanted to ensure you were open to me."

Wriothesley openly balks at this statement. He takes a few pauses and raises his hands to stop Neuvillette from saying another word.

“You have been fucking drugging me for how long?! Your. Honor.” he bites out through nearly clenched lips. “What else have you engineered in my life?”

“The draw you feel is due to my Ischus, the stone that you found in your office came from me. I also set the convict up to cause issues for you. I was testing you. I know my words sound cold. I assure you I had no idea that the stone would react with my Ischus the way it did. I did not intend to cause you permanent damage.”

Wriothesley’s ears are ringing with anger. He is staring at a neutral unemotional monolith.

“Testing!?!? That piece of shit that tried to kill Sigewinne was your fault too? You did that? Why are you just sitting there? Don’t you care or am I just a dumb fucking human to toy with?”

Wriothesley feels completely unraveled. He stares daggers at the insufferably calm man seated patient, unmoving. “SAY SOMETHING FOR YOURSELF!” he screams, losing the last thread of sanity he had. His breathing is ragged and uneven.

Neuvillette waits a few moments. “I take full accountability for all of your trials. I have much to make up for. You have become more to me than I had realized. I feel things for you that I cannot explain. I don’t have the words for them. I can only describe what my body feels and that my thoughts trail back to you often.”

So for your questions yes I was instrumental in that man having access to the Lacrimosa Stone. Sigewinne was informed she would most likely be used to draw you out. Under her own will she took up the task. She has been working with me this whole time.” He looks up and sees Wriothesley’s eyes widen a fresh wave of anger flashing in them.

“So even my best fucking friend was manipulating me? Befriending me on your behalf? And you suddenly show up after months? I haven’t seen or talked to you in months!”

“You make me suck your tits dry, save me, fuck my brains out then bring me to your castle? Why?” aggravation has Wriothesley pacing again, feet slam against hard tiling creating indentations of anger.

“The melusines are loyal to me, that is a fact. Sigewinne’s affection for you is genuine. I have no control over how she chooses to live her life outside of my requests. I feel her interest in complying with my wishes is tangential to her honest feelings of friendship for you. Please do not take your anger out on her.” He shows the first sign of slight discomfort and shifts his weight crossing his legs.

“Finding you in a state of total blindness alarmed me. I wanted to expedite your cure. While unorthodox it was the quickest way to alleviate your symptoms. I admit that I enjoyed our intimate moments.”

“I assure you I have not compelled you against your will to be with me in that way. Your actions have been under your own mind. I gave you the space you requested after the ball. Sigewinne’s letter regarding your condition. I..”

“You what? You had to clean up your mess? Ok, I will put Sigewinne’s involvement to the side. You have admitted to a lot of shit just now. I FUCK!” Fury bends his mind tenaciously as he realizes the ball was a set up.

“With raw emotion he slams his right fist into the nearest pillar next to him, it crumbles under the weight easily. His fist swings lopsidedly below his leg as he then screams his pain under the curves of his palms grasping his own forehead.

Unrelenting rage strains each thought in his head as he shouts, “You set up Mescal for that sting at the party! and I HELPED?!” His voice shakes punctuated with venom, the last word roared out violently.

“Yes, you are correct. I wanted to see your skills myself. It was also on my agenda to send a message to the aristocracy that they were no longer safe within their gilded halls. Mescal may not have had evidence on him before you planted it, but I assure you he is not an innocent man. He has been under investigation for quite some time. I needed an audience for his capture.”

He falls silent for a few moments looking for words. “I do have deep regret for how the stone affected you. I wanted you to experience my past.”

“Telling you would have made it seem like a legend. It was real. Much like your own memories.” Heavy rain begins to assault the tall windows, the sound of wind battering against the high tower.

“I wish there had been another way, your Grace.” Finally emotion pours solemnly from the dragon’s voice. “I have wanted you by my side for some time. I have thought of you daily since you first stepped foot in my office. My heart beats harder when you are near. I have never felt these things before.”

“You have become very important to me. I feel only shame for deceiving you. You have full right to be angry with me. But….” Rain starts as his mouth stills as if the waters spoke for his actions.

The storm outside picks up as the pain in Neuvillette’s eyes becomes more evident. Drops of clear rain trickle slowly into Wriothesley’s consciousness. Another epiphany hits him and out of habit, a pavlovian response to the rain he utters.

“Hydro dragon, hydro dragon don’t cry.” he shakes his head and rubs his eyes feeling a different emotion flood his body, shame. “So you weren’t making me a killer.. I made those choices. I thought I was acting out of character but I am still a worthless murderer.”

“I cannot blame your influence either. I killed them. I am not worthy of any of this.” he slumps against the base of the pummeled column.

Hot tears sting his eyes, angry, shameful tears that betray him. “You should be able to lie to me, to kick me, drown me, I am just a filthy killer!” emotion raises his voice grating from strain.

“I am just darkening your doorstep.” He felt drunk, completely out of control, his emotions crested and exploded out of him. He was too spent to feel embarrassed.

Strong arms embraced him and he tried to push away. He begins to punch in earnest with everything he has screaming all of the frustration, confusion, anger and fear he felt into the universe.

The sound he made reverberated through the nearly empty tower. His mind thundered thoughts painfully as he bawled his frustration against the sovereign's grasp. Every screech, and thought, laced with rejection of this closeness. Yet Neuvillette held on tightly, locked to his feelings.

His tears well in a flood underneath his lashes...in frustration, but he succumbs anyway. Bashing his head into Neuvillettes chest..spreading those assured truths into his shoulders. Giving into that unknown desire of what he knew would pin him to be his Chosen, when really the truth was laid bare before him.

Hands rake through his hair. “I deeply regret giving you the kill command in that basement. You are correct that I did not control your mind. However, it would have been very difficult to deny my request.”

“My essence, the Ischus responds to my will and you had been quite heavily dosed at the time. I carry that man’s soul on my karma more than you. My curiosity got the better of me. I had to see you for myself.”

The rain continues to pelt with no sign of letting up. Neuvillette’s feelings exposed all of Fontaine to a monsoon. Wriothesley felt his body starting to calm but the emotional hangover was going to be a wreckoning.

“I made you cry. I’m an enormous asshole. I can’t blame you for my actions. I killed Dougier because I wanted to. I heard your voice in my head but I ultimately gave into my anger.”

He curls into the dragon seeking further comfort without really thinking much of it. “Mescal had a really punchable face. I got a little carried away. You can’t take the blame completely on that one.”

“I get that you have scary dragon powers. But you said so yourself you didn’t take over my will. The Ischus thing explains my pull towards you but not why I wanted to kiss you or any of the other stuff. You weren’t throwing out weird dragon pheromones or something right?”

Neuvillette huffs out a stilted laugh. “No, I did not do anything of the sort. Is it possible that you simply are attracted to me Dear Duke?” He continues stroking his hair while watching intently.

Wriothesley coughs, he crosses his fingers over with Neuvillette’s petting hands. "I think you already know how much I care about you Monsieur, you feel like the tides reckoning my inner mind. The truth you've shared with me up until now, I take it to mean you trust me.”

“Yes, I suppose I do trust you. You have become very important to me, Wriothesley. ” He allows his laced fingers to be pulled down to a stubbled cheek. “I want to share everything with you.

There is a lot more to share but I think later would be better. Are you feeling more yourself now?” His other arm is wrapped around Wriothesley’s side, caressing his side soothingly.

“Yeah, I am feeling better. I uh, really lost my shit, I could have handled it better. In my defense you told me a lot of crazy stuff all at once.”

Neuvillette chuckles in response. “I wish that were the end of the crazy stuff as you call it. Your passion is one of the things I admire about you, no need to apologize to me. I am the one in a debt of gratitude to you. I -” The dragon is cut off with a finger to his lips.

“I get it, Neuvillette I just need a few minutes and I just want a little longer sitting here with you like this.”

They sit together for some time intertwined. Comforted by each other’s stillness. No need to keep speaking. Wordlessly they communicated trust, and affection allowing the silent space of heart beats and soft touches to speak for them.

The rain had let up and stopped as they sat together sun began to beam into the large windows. “Are you up to a little spar?” Neuvillette’s words break the silence. “I think it is the best way to teach you some new skills.”

Wriothesley furrows his brow “Fight now? I think that’s a bit heavy… what new skills?” Neuvillette glances up at the pulverized pillar and points up as dust and loose pieces of the destroyed pillar lose their battle with gravity. Following the arc of the arm, Wriothesley shrinks a little. “Heh, yeah that’s a good point. Sorry about your pillar, column, post? I will fix it.”

An elegant hand is waved dismissively. “It is not load bearing and I’ll keep it. I like the reminder. You need to know your new strength I think. I also want to show you a little known ability available to elemental wielders like yourself.”

He ruffles untidy silver flecked black hair and gracefully stands up holding out a helping hand. Wriothesley accepts the help gaining his feet he follows curiously.

Wind whips around their heads at the apex of the tower. They both step through bronzing architecture meeting in front of the central core. Neuvillette raises one of his arms gesturing to his chosen to stand about five meters away.

“I will demonstrate now how it works.” He conjures up several water droplets that coalesce into a circular orb. This is the hydro element but what I would like you to do is to try to feel within yourself the surroundings using your innate sense of your own element. Try to describe to me what you see in this orb of hydro.”

Wriothesley takes a moment to grasp his element, he searches for that tethering chilling core. Instead he feels something else call out to his attention. He focuses towards the energy he senses, it has the feeling of something swirling. “I see something, it looks swirling, soothing, smooth, feels like you.”

“Excellent.” Neuvillette pulls out a silk blindfold and secures it tightly around his head, waving to make sure Wriothesley was completely without sight. “Is this really necessary?” he hears a disembodied voice to his left.

“Yes, how else can I assure that if you cannot get to see me or start losing your sight more quickly you will be able to defend yourself. I owe you this and much more. Now, begin.”

He stands quietly listening, he hears and feels the gusts curling around his arms in the open space of the tower.. He stills himself he thinks he hears a slight difference a little like clothing snapping against wind.

Neuvillette’s poet blouse would be rippling in the wind. He tries to isolate it. He lunges striking for a blow to the chest. He meets air. Standing wary and trying to still his breath.

From behind him he catches a hint of floral perfume. “Excellent instincts.” Breath tickles his ear. He turns with a vicious left hook again catching phantom air. Across the sparring circle wafts the velvet voice that haunts many sleepless nights.

“I won’t be quite that easy to pin down. Focus, paint the environment in your head. Where am I? Is the wind reacting differently because of my movement? I made sure to wear my cologne so you could scent me even in this wind.”

Wriothesley tries to remember the layout of the top dias they had been on. He is fairly sure he is still in the center somewhat. He turns to the source of the voice. He focuses, listening closely, more wind but under the wind light steps possibly?

He feels a strike on his shoulder. Hoping for a lucky hit he turns quickly grazing soft silky material. The tantalizing scent of Romaritime flowers faintly trails away.

“Good” the velvety voice echoes behind him. “Reach out and listen to your own element and hear what it sounds like when you summon it.” He concentrates summoning ice laden gauntlets.

He smells a fresh crisp chill like the first snow. Then hears ice crystals piercing the air as his gauntlets soak in his elemental power. That familiar round soothing energy pings behind him. He smiles wolfishly to himself.

Turning sharply, he quickly makes up the distance towards his target. Moving more quickly than he remembers being able to. He takes in a sharp breath grinning at the stretch in his abilities, In his mind’s eye he has a slight idea of direction, lunging forward he catches the feel of silky soft fabric on top of his knuckles.

He misses, but again he strikes multiple bouts on the achilles of his foot moving towards the surging feeling of hydro. However, his punches aren’t connecting to anything with how quickly the dragon coils away at each step he makes. Wriothesley pursues a trail of elemental serenity flowing continuously from the sovereign. He feels close, just one quick lunge and he will have him.

An oasis of elemental hydro is temptingly close. He rushes forward with cruel speed. That singular hit is his, he feels victory is eminent, as the elemental blip dissipates. His momentum keeps moving him forward.

His stomach lurches as the force of gravity tips him downward. Is he starting to fall? Strong wind rushes his face. Suddenly his forward movement is halted. His shirt tightens at the collar as he is pulled backwards. Spun around and pushed hard in the opposite direction.

“Please mind your whole environment. You were so focused on fighting my hydro mimic you neglected to remember you are on the top of a tower. Now.” Wriothesley feels a hard smack on his ass. His hand is grabbed and he is pulled bodily forward. “Hey! You can’t do that!” he rubs his ass with his free hand pouting.

“It seems I’ve got the touch and the power, but focus carefully. This time stay on the dias and steady your resolve.” Wriothesley can hear a hint of playfulness in the directive.

He wipes his nose and smiles, large and toothy. “Ok, I see how we are playing now. You think I am the mouse, and you are the cat. Monsieur, I am about to show you how wrong you are.”

A wheezing laugh comes from his left. “Time will tell. Now, use that big brain, I enjoy watching work.” Wriothesley breathes deeply and taps into the internal sight he has been taught. He now senses two elemental bodies.

One must be the mimic meant to deceive him. He breathes meditatively, cryo bites into his skin as he manifests his gauntlets forming his hands into fists. The slight differences in the two figures become clearer and clearer.

The hydro essence is more densely packed in the mimic. Deciding his strategic approach, he feints this next action. Lunging forward with several grappling attempts, he keeps his mind open. Closing each gap he senses Neuvillette ever so closer.

Finally an instinct takes over, as he feels a newfound source within him. Waiting for Neuvillettes energy behind him, he pushes out his arm straight behind him. Signaling a halt of action with one palm straight up.

He digs deep and decides to summon the energy he had just felt. He was about to lunge backwards expecting to hit a solid solar plexus. Instead a solid column of hydro bursts from his hand. Sensing he will not get another opportunity he takes advantage of the surprising event and solidly taps Neuvillette mid chest.

Ripping off the white blindfold, he sees a drenched and mouth-gaped frozen Neuvillette. He waves his hand in front of eyes that are looking a thousand years ahead. “Hey Neuv. Teyvat to Iudex!” He shakes a water-soaked shoulder.

Purple draconic eyes blink twice. “My apologies. How did you -?” he points to Wriothesley’s hand. Wriothesley shrugs. “No clue, also I won.” He grins wide.

Suddenly realizing his state Neuvillette wicks away the access hydro from his hair and clothing with a flick of his wrist. In a moment he is back to looking pristine and unbothered. “Yes, I see that.” a small smile crests his face.

“My running hypothesis is that this hydro ability is a reaction to the unique combination of my Ischus, and the concoction from downstairs. I am very impressed.” He grasps Wriothesley’s face with both of his hands, his thumbs carefully caressing roughly stubbled cheeks.

Sharp slitted purple eyes stare meaningfully into icy pools. “You are exquisite. A human controlling multiple elements. Quite extraordinary, and all mine.”

Red flushes Wriothesley’s cheeks, he could lean in and take a kiss. He wants to, he wants to do a lot of things. However, he sees the dawning of amber beams rise reflecting off the floor and themselves.

He raises one of his hands pointing out over the horizon. “I think it’s time to head back down to my office. I’d like to think a huge water tremor in the Fortress won't go unnoticed. Besides, Sigewinne would kill me with how much loads of work I’d leave with her, and don’t you have the whole nation to run?”

With a deep sigh Neuvillette drops his hands. “I suppose I do. Allow me to escort you back.”

Several weeks have passed. Over those weeks he had been adding blindfolded exercises to his regular work out regimen, met diligently with the Iudex as requested, and ran the prison. There had been minor interference to run after the prison nearly flooded. He decided on the story that there was nearby seismic activity.

Today was another meeting day up topside, he needs to power through stacks of paperwork and finalize some reports for Neuvillette. Thankful to have sight returned, he made quick work of reviewing and filing the papers where they needed to go. His mind drifts to Neuvillette. This was not unusual, the man had a stranglehold on his spare thoughts.

Their meetings lately have been mostly business. Wriothesley thinks his massive temper tantrum in the tower was the main reason. They flirted, their hands lingered a little longer than they should when they exchanged papers.

It was a drug that Wriothesley couldn’t get enough of. He wanted more, he couldn’t count how many times he had imagined taking Neuvillette bent over his ornate enormous desk in the middle of that ostentatious, enormous office.

He shakes his head, willing his thoughts to return to his present. He had to meet an old friend for coffee. He quickly sorts the papers remaining on his desk. Grabbing his signature coat he secures it as he leaves his office.

Sitting in the cafe with a freshly brewed cup of tea, Wriothesley scans the crowd. A familiar figure cuts through the crowd. “Prompt as ever, you seem hurried and annoyed, am I that much of an imposition?” Dark purple scowling eyes glare back at him. “You Duke Shithead have quite a high opinion of yourself. My mood has nothing to do with you.”

“Come on Rinderella, I thought I had some social currency with you. I thought I was important.” Wriothesley puts an exaggerated pout on his face. Clorinde rolls her eyes in response. Tucking a stray piece of long dark hair behind her ear. “I thought we were friends. But friends tell each other when the Iudex visits them!” A harsh whisper crushes into his ear drums.

“Whoa, I have no idea what you are referring to. I mean sure I have been topside more often. I have gotten a lot of shit organized and under control so I am taking back the meetings. Sigewinne can go back to doing what she loves.” he casually sips his tea cocking his head.

Her dark eyes level a look that would chill his soul if he didn’t know her better. “I know for a fact that his Honor was out of his office for well over a day.”

“Your darling melusine was up here not that long ago to deliver my makeup order and lets slip that you had been a little out of sorts a few weeks ago but were doing much better. I don’t think that is a coincidence.”

Wriothesley breaks her intense eyes to look down at the Steambird he picked up earlier. “My well being and his Honor’s personal whereabouts from day to day have little to do with each other.”

“I don’t know why you are always so suspicious of me.” His eyes quickly skim over the newspaper. He can’t help but notice his name has popped up in the op-ed section.

Clorinde takes a dagger out of her boot and uses the sharp blade to lower the paper down so that their eyes are level and making contact.

“Oh I don’t know, maybe this horseshit of avoiding my question? Suddenly putting your nose in the paper instead of talking to me? Stop being a little shit and talk to me.” She slices into the paper with her dagger.

“Well then how about I tickle your ear with a little theory. You know more than you are letting on. You show up at a ball where Mescal gets arrested. And then there is no trial as the guy just poof disappears. Then in the very same house Nouvelle gets implicated in the same shit. Well color me electro, now I am looking into all this crap under our esteemed Iudex.” She squints her eyes into little slits. “On top of all this I hear that a rumble happened down in your iron walled lump of shit.”

He chuckles as her mouth presses into a scowl, sitting hard back into her seat and sheathing her dagger back. “Hey now I was just a guest at the ball. I didn’t even know Mescal existed before that night. That rumble was just some increased seismic activity, nothing to do with me. He shrugs and cavalierly shifts into a slouched relaxed position.

“I have a working relationship with Monsieur Neuvillette. I see him for weekly meetings. I was a little under the weather a few weeks ago. Sigewinne fixed me up.”

“I have no idea what the Iudex does when he isn’t in his office. I don’t think I can picture the guy anywhere else. He’s like part of the building. He is practically a load bearing pillar.”

He looks directly into her eyes. “Oh Great Rindini if there was anything to tell you would be the first on my list.” he throws a charming lopsided grin at her.

She downs her coffee in one gulp and points her finger hard into Wriothesley’s chest. “I am watching you very closely, Duke Shit for Brains, you are acting really weird. I know there is something you aren’t telling me. Lucky for you I have to get back to work.”

“Always a pleasure Rindy Rue!” He calls after her form as it slips into the crowd. Wriothesley didn’t really want to lie to her, but he also didn’t really have anything to report. His relationship with Neuvillette was… complicated.

The one thing that was definitely true was that they were work colleagues, and that Wriothesley was obsessively down bad for the dragon. It was troubling him that she was so keen minded and seemed to already know he was somehow involved in Mescal’s disappearance. He sighs remembering he has a meeting to get to and files it away for later.

Gleaming white buttrices of the Palais loomed over Fontaine, the ever impressive edifice judging all its citizens. Wriothesley was now a common sight and was waved through with a smile and nod. He knocks once on the large wooden doors separating him from his heart's one true desire. He puts a genuine smile on his face as he enters.

Neuvillette is walking towards him in greeting with a warm smile on his face. Wriothesley is now more comfortable with the pull he feels towards him. Knowing the source calmed his natural paranoia. Neuvillette wraps him in a rare embrace.

Velvet, deep, soft words tickle his ear. “I missed you, my chosen one. I find you come to mind more often in our time apart. Is it the same for you?”

Wriothesley slips from the embrace, he fixes his hair to distract from his flushing cheeks. “You can’t just ask that. Leave a guy a little space to have some mystery.” he chuckles, lacing his fingers with his dragon’s.

“My answer is yes, of course, I think about you too much.” He sighs and places the newspaper out on one of the posh lacquered tables.

“As much as I want to keep looking at your face, my dragon. I think we have an issue. What I feared would happen is rearing its head. Your best buddy, Nouvelle, who I thought was coming to visit me soon, has quite an inflammatory piece in the Steambird this morning.”

Neuvillette gestures for them to sit next to each other on one of the pretty plush blue couches. “I saw that this morning. He bought and connived his way out of a conviction.”

“The Oratrice is swayed by the crowds opinion on justice and the blatant evidence was not enough.” his face darkens. “That family has a dark legacy. I have been looking for a way to rid Fontaine of their influence for quite some time.”

“Dark legacy? What has he got his fingers in?” Neuvillette holds his finger up and crosses the room to retrieve a dossier from his desk. He places it in Wriothesley’s hands and returns to his seat.

“Within that folder you will find that the family first crossed me when I was newly appointed the Iudex of Fontaine. They wanted me gone and one of their founding members was among the men responsible for killing Carole. While she took her own life. Those men were responsible in every way that matters.”

“Shit, Neuvillette, I am so sorry. Ok, that is a fair and sizable grudge you have. But this doofus didn’t do anything like that. Just his ancestor right?” Wriothesley places his hand on Neuvillette’s leg to calm him.

“I think if you keep looking you will find more recent files on his staff and how they have come into his employ. It references an interesting case from about ten years ago. One you are intimately tied to.”

Wriothesley starts thumbing through the file. He sees a photo of a woman, her hair is limp and lackluster, her eyes hollow. His memory tunnels as he remembers a little girl named Joi her bright blue eyes and blond curls.

She was the darling of his foster parents' eyes. She did no wrong. She must have been sold to Nouvelle during the time he had run away. Drops of water start hitting the paper. He hadn’t realized he was crying. “Joi, she was….”

Neuvillette carefully takes the file away and gently wipes the tears away with a gloved hand. He kisses the corners of tear streaked eyes. “Nouvelle purchased her, there is no doubt in my mind. She would not speak of her time in his employ while we had him in custody. We have no proof of that link other than your memories.”

Neuvillette clasps the hand Wriothesley had left on his leg and kisses it. “I have more to share with you. I need your help.” Wriothesley looks down and takes a deep breath. “You have my undivided attention. Whatever it is, you have my assistance.”

Intense mauve eyes stare deeply into him. “Wriothesley you will now be culpable in my plans even further. Are you going to be ok with deeper intrigue?”

Wriothesley chuckles darkly, “Neuvillette, I killed a man for you I would say I am already deeply entrenched. Whatever you say here I will hold in deepest confidence and will take it to my grave.”

Neuvillette let out air he had been holding in his lungs. “Very well. I am the de facto head of the sinthe ring. I control the supply. I know the players. I know who is making it and who is selling it and who they are selling it to.”

“I’ve provided the notes and inspiration to the man creating it. These preparations were all done in order to hold the nobility accountable. Bringing them to justice on purpose, which leads them to Meropide."

Wriothesley nods his head with a furrowed brow taking in the information. “I am going to assume you were not anticipating the toll this would take on lower income families.

“Knowing that our power source comes from the Oratrice and how the overall feeling of “Justice” fuels that thing. So you had to make a big bad for common people to rally against. Which also helps you take out these assholes at the top.”

Neuvillette gives Wriothesley a rare large toothy smile. “You are remarkable, indeed that is my overarching plan.” He picks up the paper and skims the piece written by Nouvelle. Wriothesley watches as lavender eyes turn darker and darker.

Neuvillette’s fingers grip the paper with increasing strength, the paper ripping under the pressure. “This man.” Neuvillette spits out with seething venom. “Has gone too far. He is implicating you as the force behind his false imprisonment. He brings up your past and belittles your pedigree. I will not have that stand.”

Neuvillette gently cups a stubbled chin and softly kisses Wriothesley’s chapped lips. “I have come to my favor, dear one. I want Nouvelle killed. Will you do that for me beloved?”

Wriothesley does not hesitate. The dossier regarding the vile man glaring up at him. “Yes, my dragon, he is a dead man walking.”

Neuvillette’s smile is genuine, it is Wriothesley’s present for being a good partner and confidante. His initial assessment about this man had been beyond accurate. He would do anything to see that smile again. He was about to end a man’s legacy simply because his savior wanted it done.

Neuvillette pats his pockets and looks down as a thought interrupts their shared moment. “I just remembered one last detail.” graceful fingers pull a small vial of familiar liquid out of his waistcoat pocket.

“Here, this will be needed to cover your deed. A body is very hard to hide and your brand of justice may easily point a finger in your direction. It does not take much to dissolve the body. There will be nothing to report in the morning. Just a man gone from his house in the middle of the night.”

Wriothesley takes the vial, allowing the electric shiver of their brief contact to run down his spine. “This is potent stuff. I’ll be careful with it and no one will know I was there. It's as good as done.” Wriothesley grins smugly at his perfect dragon resolved to fulfill their plan.

Chapter Text

Thoughts bounce around in Wriothesley’s mind. Why was he so willing to immediately volunteer for this dark task? He had tried so hard to distance himself from his past and taken a position that he was proud of.

It is the fact that these rich men who had controlled his young life, were still pulling the strings behind the scenes. Nothing had changed. The investigations were slow and the rich had circled their wagons. A few lower targets trickled into the Fortress, but the children of Fontaine were still not safe.

Anger that had been repressed for over a decade began to bubble up. Easily he thought it could be directed at Neuvillette’s motive. The deception, drugging, and affliction of blindness that all occurred were valid indictments for Wriothesley’s wrath. Instead, after the sovereign showed his full intentions on the table, he was left shocked.

Mesmerized at first and deception aside, Wriothesley was captured in the eerie beauty that struck behind the Iudex’s silhouette. Which in turn, began to drip into his inner mind to crave more.

Before allowing himself to be engulfed in this craving.. Wriothesley noted that he had never caught him in a lie or suspected anything. In Neuvillette’s case though, he came clean to his truth.

Imparting secrets so in depth that if revealed, would shake the foundations of Fontaine. When regarding Neuvillette’s full admission, it made sense that investigations had become effective. If he had been a man with no scruples, he could have the dragon by the short hairs.

He didn’t want power over the Chief Justice. What he craved was simply to exist in his aura. To assist in changing Fontaine into something better. Redemption was granted to him at the beginning from his Savior. In giving the Fortress its focus, he now sees that Fontaine can also be redeemed.

Ever since he heard the prophecy and that the citizens of Fontaine were destined to suffer the wrath of flooded punishment. Neuvillette was the only being bringing solutions to the table. Their archon was loud about everything except a solution to the prophecy.

Surveying the social landscape of Fontaine, Wriothesley understood why Neuvillette was slow to trust. Anyone with power on the surface was protective of their own interests. Any collaboration for the greater good would also have to benefit that noble family. None of them were prone to gracious charity.

It makes sense to Wriothesley that anyone recruited into the inner circle of his plan would have to be carefully vetted, tested and proven loyal. While his methods may have been underhanded, Neuvillette had compelling reasons for doing what he had done.

Neuvillette had no reason to immediately trust him. He was, after all, a convicted criminal. Neuvillette was also the only person with power making any moves against the nobility who had enjoyed the buffer of their wealth for centuries.

Wriothesley was here because action spoke. Deeds made a loud statement. The nobility needed to be put on notice. Their culture of decadent exploitation was coming to an end. His pitted roiling anger had a targeted direction now, a clear purpose. Legal means of justice had come up with nothing.

Real justice is but a taboo towards prolific sinners with means, and these people would continue on for centuries if left unchecked. Individuals who didn't deserve redemption had seeded their continued survival. Taking self-appointed seats on high, what they truly deserved was to be ripped down to their flesh. Now, in that moment, he was given that very task to execute.

Inky darkness blankets the world. It is quiet, most of Fontaine is fast asleep. Wriothesley is wide awake. Watching the window of his target he mentally prepared himself for the task ahead.

Having discreetly observed Nouvelle’s schedule, he knew that he would be alone in his study at this hour. From his hidden vantage point he could see that no one would witness him scale the side of the large estate he was casing.

Channeling the same sensation that sprinkles his fingertips with hydro, he starts to form two ice blades in each hand. Etching a small indentation into the wall, he starts moving his way above to the balcony. As he gets closer to his destination a decisive thought looms in his head, thinking about how this man had ruined every life he had touched.

Fate brings him to a familiar precipice, he is once again deciding if a soul lives or dies. However, he knows what this man is, and what he deserves. With one heavy step onto the balcony, he arrives using little effort in front of an empty study.

He pockets his bandana and starts scouring the plentiful files left astray on the red linden wood desk. Amongst it he sees a name of familiarity, Joi. She had been one of his siblings a lifetime ago.

Skimming it over, he pays respect to that as underneath other names are listed. Lightly he sits on the edge of a chair in the lit study reading through his drawers, taking in all the information there, looking for the answers. He continues to rifle through the desk finding nothing useful, until he hears the real answer appear in front of him.

Within seconds, he throws several freezing blasts at the doorway past Nouvelle’s brown plaid suit. Gazing slowly at him, he begins infusing the balcony doors and the room with ice. Crossing his arms on his bare black dress shirt, he waits for the man to speak.

Gasping at the sight of the intimidating Warden, Nouvelle braces himself cowering slowly from beneath the Duke’s icy cold stare. "Wha...what are you doing in my estate?!?! I didn't call from some visit or security. Wait, don't tell me.." Wriothesley slowly stands with arms akimbo, walking steadily towards him.

"Maybe you can recollect some information for me, as you are such a very important man. Perhaps you can enlighten me about how poor Joi deserves this life. Or the more important information on the table over here." He furrows his eyes as he takes one last heavy step forward standing a few inches away from Nouvelle’s witted down figure.

"Why should I tell you anything, you've minced society and us nobles!? You're a disgrace to my eyes. You seem like you ...tsk!!!” Nouvelle’s arm starts burning from the temperature fluctuation of Wriothesley’s icy touch.

He looks at the gaze burning frigidly into his whole body. "You have all the answers don't you!!! How about you use those gardes of yours. I've heard rumors of your rule and it's unjust for the price we have to pay above here. How can you know anything about our standing or meet our standards!!!"

Nouvelle blinks in frustration, distracting himself with his own rant he had not taken in Wriothesley’s steady footsteps. He is met with an ominous presence behind him. Looming below is a shadow reflecting the dim fleeting amber lights.

Everything seems slightly heavy, his breathing slows as he turns his head behind. A frostful splash of fanning cryo hits his neck. He then feels a heavy kick from his back, flying him towards his own desk. Turning quickly he yelps in slight surprise.

"Tell me everything and I'll maybe make this less demeaning. You already know I care much less about being a noble. Whether or not you believe the rumors of how I run things. You'll hear the end of them soon. So how is Joi? What other orphans have been threatened?” He scoffs at Nouvelle as he starts clenching his right fist.

Nouvelle backs up even more towards the desk leaning behind him. He starts breathing harder as he speaks. “You already know everything! I don’t know of all the kids in the book. Besides, they made a pretty penny on my street. They were fed deservedly under rightful law. Nothing new… I’d say even their new parents are thrilled to have them. That's what you want to hear right.”

Blustering on, with false bravado Nouvelle’s voice raises which only accentuates the tint of fear underlying his words. “B-But you said it yourself, you’re not a noble. So why would I who has no standing in your underwater Fortress abide by my actions if they were wrong.”

A heavy slam of a fist hits near Nouvelle’s left thigh on the table, as Nouvelle takes in several ventilating breaths. Wriothesley looks up slowly after turning his head down, he locks his eyes with Nouvelle’s.

“Deserve? The last thing anyone deserves is an enslaved life outside of Fontaine. Have you ever looked at any single one of those kids' lives? I bet you now is your chance to see that.” He slowly lifts his right hands curling his fingertips reaching towards Nouvelle.

“Uh…what wha…what do you mean by that? What are you trying to do?!?!”

“Hmph…You’ll see soon enough. The pain they probably felt. What I felt. You already know I was an abandoned child and sold once right. This might be the last time you say anything. So you better tell me what information you have on this trafficking ring.” Wriothesley reaches to Nouvelle’s twitching right eye, as he quickly curls his fingers on to the shaking man without any hesitation.

Slowly Nouvelle’s sweat drips down his fingertips, as a whirlpooling sensation of water pours into Nouvelle’s eyes. Nouvelle struggles and yelps in mangling striations, as he feels an ever deepening swirling vortex inside his eye rippling his whole socket open. But then… he felt it..the instantaneous fractal of icey thorns piercing through his eye completely out of his socket.

Slowly Wriothesley releases his hand while Nouvelle’s eye bursts into pieces of frozen debris on the floor. Freezing blood spills out the now empty eye socket as he screams in agony from the loss of vision.

“Son of a bitch!!! Wait..no…I don’t want to. Fine …I’ll tell you anything!” Frantically, he continues through panicked, heavy breaths. “There's a file in my safe behind the bookshelf. Y-You can find every single detail there. Just please spare me.” Nouvelle falls to the floor and quickly holds his hands on his missing eye, backing towards the desk itself.

“Thanks. That wasn’t so difficult was it?” Towering over the man he continues smiling darkly, menace dripping from his eyes. “I’ll take the information…However I think this is not going to end in your favor. You’ve already caused a stir to my reputation. And I have to give my high regards from my Iudex for this. Then again, why would you care now even if I let you live?”

Wriothesley gives a wolfish smirk and striking with his left palm he grabs Nouvelle’s face and shoves a hydro-cryo infused incision into his other eye. Behind Nouvelle’s skull is a thorn of ice surging outward pointing towards the desk.

No words could be heard from Nouvelle, as Wriothesley covered his mouth. He slowly tips Nouvelles skull down inwards towards the desk with the ice slowly taking over the man’s body. Contorting the body with downward pressure he leverages his left leg to push the spear further and further.

The cracking of each flake in cartilage squeezes under the pressure. Wriothesley lives in this moment, taking in the slow symphony of gasps under his other palm. “I told you. You’d see how they all lived soon enough.” It was then Nouvelle’s heart stops..cracking…shattering into nothing more than the echoes of his pitiful noble sins.

With that done, he reaches into his dress shirt pocket pulling out a vial of purple iridescent liquid. He spreads it out on the remains of Nouvelle. As he places the empty vial back into his pocket, Wriothesley walks up to the bookcase and opens the hidden compartment.

Placing one of his fingers on the safe he breaks the lock with cryo hydro infused energy. Grabbing the contents of the vanilla folder, he strides confidently out towards the balcony window. Glancing once at the titled folder, he sees the name Joi printed and nods. Looking at the moon smiling, he has only one thing on his mind to see and give this gift to his dear Savior.

Fresh from the kill, adrenaline was still coursing through his veins, Wriothesley dodges through dark alleyways his heart beats sync up with his excited hurried pace. As the blood lust leaves his psyche it shifts to pure desire.

He takes the long way to his dragon’s unassuming townhouse. Heat rises through his body as he thinks of ways to make the impassive Iudex moan, losing himself in pleasure.

Anticipation buzzes as he knocks on the door. Looking down impatiently, he sees light crack below flooding his feet. Impatiently, Wriothesley rushes inside and forces Neuvillette backward into the foyer slamming the door harshly.

Seeing the recognition widen his dragon’s violet slit eyes. Consumed with need at having his Savior so close his eyes darken with desire.

“I need you” his voice is gravelly and strained.

Wriothesley feels Neuvillette’s hands clutch onto his waist. Overwhelmed with the tantalizing unique scent of Romaritime flowers, ink and petrichor, he spins as if they are dancing to face the door again. Moving with the force of his unbridled need Wriothesley uses their bodies to slam back into the closed door.

He crushes into Neuvillette’s body, they fit together instinctively. A low moan escapes from Neuvillette just before Wriothesley devours the noise with bruising lips. His body keeps the pleasantly surprised dragon caged as his hands ruck up Neuvillette’s cleanly pressed shirt, desperately seeking skin to touch, caress and squeeze.

Arousal overflows, as he places both hands on Neuvillette’s hips. Kissing deeply into his lush lips and touching their foreheads together. He takes a ragged breath before speaking.

“It’s done. I’ve come back with presents. But first.” he licks along a smooth jawline up to uniquely shaped pointed ears then bites the tender earlobe. He whispers into the sensitive ear. “I want my prize.”

Neuvillette’s breath hitches as he stares into icy pools of desire. “I will not stop you from taking whatever you wish.” Strong arms pick the startled dragon up, he takes full advantage to cup Neuvillette’s perfectly shaped ass.

Long, sinewy legs wrap around Wriothelsey’s trim waist Clutching for purchase around a solid muscular neck Neuvillette gives into his own need pulling their mouths together. Teeth clack together with the impact of their kiss. The bite of the sensation spurs both deeper into desire.

Without breaking their deep kiss Wriothesley carries his radiant Savior through the townhouse upstairs to the bedroom. Neuvillette gestures lazily preoccupied with their tangled tongues towards the furthest door on the left. Pushing past the slightly ajar door Wriothesley notes the bed is large, plush and the centerpiece of the room.

Gently, he places Neuvillette seated on the edge of the bed. Pulling away from their heated kiss he cups Neuvillette’s flushed cheeks and lightly kisses his forehead.

Drawing back a step he sinks to his knees staring up with equal parts devotion and heat. With reverence he guides Neuvillette’s boot laden foot onto his lap. “You deserve to be worshiped. Your legs alone should have their own temple.”

Neuvillette watches enraptured as Wriothesley slowly unbuckles his spats. Clever fingers massage his legs as they are uncovered. Icy intense eyes stare hungrily up at long lashes blinking over curious purple slitted eyes.

As the last buckle releases under his fingers he tosses a decorative spat off into the distance. Greedy fingers massage an athletically muscular calf.

“Fuck me you look so good like this.” He removes Neuvillette’s impossibly clean boot and sock, finding every single part of this man enchanting. As he massages between toes that have never been touched a pleased moan rumbles from deep within Neuvillette.

“No one is here but me. I want to hear every moan you make sweetness.” Hungrily he sucks in Neuvillette’s azure tinted big toe. His tongue explores the textures and ridges of padded skin. Hearing a hitched breath expelled from his dragon brought a devious smile to his face. He continues to suck each toe relishing every moan and shiver he elicits from Neuvillette.

Absorbed in lavishing Neuvillette’s toes with attention, his unused hand multitasks unbuckling the other spat moving with a little less patience, it is removed and joins the pile of discarded items. Only then does he relinquish trapped toes from the cage of his mouth.

He quickly removes the other ostentatious boot and sock. The other foot is afforded the same attention and adoration. Exploring fingers run up and down well shaped calves as his tongue teases in between toes seeming to send pulses of pleasure through his well loved dragon.

Pushing down his own lust he wants to take his time tonight. How far can he tease and play with the heated tether that ties the two of them together. He releases a toe with an audible pop seering pools of lust from his glacially colored eyes.

Leaning back he stood over his languidly prone lover. He unbuttons his shirt, keeping his attention pinned on Neuvillette watching the heated interest burn through their connection.

Shrugging off his shirt without effort, it drops to the floor without a further thought. His strong scarred chest now bared shows off the creviced dimples of his hip bones dipping into tight trousers even tighter as his cock hardened with need. Leaning over, he shoves his hand between still clothed thighs pulling Neuvillette’s legs apart easily.

Finding his strong hands pressed against soft plump inner thighs he indulges his curiosity and kneads into them his eyes never leaving the mesmerizing stare of his Savior. His left hand slides upward palming Neuvillette’s tented trousers.

Feeling just how needy his dragon was getting under his exploring hands he continues stroking his perfect dragon’s growing cock. Neuvillette’s breath hitches as he continues to stare in a trance. Every move Wriothesley makes is stripping away at his resolve.

Exhilaration overwhelms Wriothesley as he sees something feral and animalistic take over his dragon. Within the span of a blink he is caged within a clawing, needy embrace.

A deep growl reverberates through Wriothesley’s body as he feels sharp claws rake down his back. He cries out as the adrenaline from the kill and the powerfully sharp pleasure coalesce into a cocktail of exquisite sensation.

Upon seeing rivulets of dark red stream from wide shoulders Neuvillette’s eyes glow a deep blue. An intensity grips Wriothesley as he feels pinned under a soul piercing gaze. Electricity floods his being as a forked tongue laps at the blood as Neuvillette mindlessly thrusts his hips rutting against the pressure provided by Wriothesley’s palm.

Desire grips Wriothesley’s thoughts he can’t think of anything else except laying his dragon bare and taking him whole. Craving skin on skin contact, Wriothesley lays his other hand on smooth skin under Neuvillette’s pristine white shirt. Splaying his fingers out he explores the delicious texture of muscle and skin his fingers dance over.

As loath as he is to leave his dragon wanting more he moves his palm away from those needy grinding hips and deliberately unbuttons the shirt, keeping a steady intention in his movements. Neuvillette is a vision under him. He smiles at seeing Neuvillette so unseated from his composure. With an arching back his Savior is seeking a harder pressure against his splayed hand.

The shirt is hastily discarded by Neuvillette as soon as the last button comes undone. With a low rumbling growl Wriothesley’s perspective is shifted as he is forcefully rolled onto his back. Predatory gleaming eyes stare with intensity directly into Wriothesley.

Neuvillette crawls up his body looking much like a leopard stalking in the depths of night. Sinking into Wriothesley he grabs onto Wriothesley’s hips pushing them together with need. They grind into one another kissing each other with matched intensity.

Everything about Neuvillette is a drug, Being caged by him in a devastating kiss is short circuiting his mind. His dragon is beyond pleased with him and this prize is worth every sin he committed to get here.

He would kill a thousand men just like Nouvelle to just be in these strong arms a moment longer. The way they were clinging together pressing into each other with abandon felt as like it always was. They fit so well, their desires complimented each other.

Neuvillette breaks the kiss, Wriothesley’s head is spinning dizzy with sensation. Sharp teeth sink into his neck. The shock sends an electric surge straight to his cock, his hips thrust into Neuvillette’s body. A husky moan escapes from Wriothesley as he realizes his dragon is as hard as he is.

Watching through dazed lidded eyes Wriothesley sees his single minded dragon slide further down his torso. Polished sharp blue tinted claws open red welts as they raked down his chest.

His body is leveling through new sensations, focusing to keep his mind present and focused on the glowing sexy dragon in front of him; it barely registers that his pants are being removed.

Within the space of a breath his hard cock is swallowed full to the back of a hungry dragon’s mouth. “Fuck.huh shit… Neuv…Ahh” words have left Wriothesley’s brain; he is delirious and the only thing he can focus on is how well Neuvillette is sucking his cock.

He looks into purple irises blown out with lust and grips into sublimely silky sheets. Neuvillette’s swollen lips look like sin as he bobs up and down, sending pleasure Wriothesley has never experienced before through his entire body.

Neuvillette’s impossibly long forked tongue wraps around his cock. “I can’t believe you already-” he pants out, “Have me so close. You have to uunngh.. slow down. I am going to come.”

How does he know how to use his tongue like this? Neuvillette languidly releases his cock with spit soaked lips and eyes nearly black with lust.

“Shhhh. Come for me Wriothesley, be a good boy now.” Wriothesley was ripped from the mooring of reality as pleasure assailed him. He watched transfixed as he painted Neuvillette’s face white.

Each pulse of pleasure leaving a new claim he continued to watch as his cum pools under Neuvillette’s chin. That talented prehensile tongue slipped out of Neuvillette's red slick lips and began lapping up the mess Wriothesley had left.

Lowering his head he sucked Wriothesley’s flagged cock back into his mouth. Humming a low pulsing tone vibrations rocked through Wriothesley’s whole body.

He wasn’t a virgin, he thought he knew what an orgasm felt like. This experience was transcendent; he was ruined for life. He would never be fully satisfied with anyone else.

His cock was stirring again. Neuvillette was playing his cock with virtuosic ease. The heat of his hot mouth was sending multiple currents through Wriothesley. He couldn’t help but fuck into that skilled mouth. He threw his head back gripping onto long silver locks of hair to keep the talented tongue exactly where he wanted it.

Urgent need surged inside Wriothesley and a dangerously intense lust overcame him. He needed to have his dragon now. He pushes the confused dragon back off his twitching cock.

“I got you trust me.” He smiles wide, with a flourish and a loud ripping noise Neuvillette’s tailored trousers are utterly unusable and forgotten nearly immediately as Wriothesley takes in all of Neuvillette’s magnificence.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you are.” On impulse he tackles Neuvillette kissing him deeply. His hands stroke through tangled soft strands of hair, then push on the back of Neuvillette’s head to bring them even closer together.

Driven by a pressing cresting need Wriothesley pulls back. “I need you on all fours my sovereign, it’ll be worth it.” Neuvillette moves into position as asked, seemingly spellbound by their shared pleasure. Neither wanted to break whatever ensorcellment was in place.

Wriothesley kneels behind his exceptional dragon. His strong fingers knead into the perfectly round globes of Neuvillette’s ass. The flesh is firm but the skin is soft. Wriothesley takes note of the pattern of scales as all of Neuvillette was laid bare for him.

He knew then he was completely gone for this man. He was Neuvillette’s man and he would do anything and everything for Neuvillette. He now knew what a safe harbor looked like. Neuvillette was the lighthouse that kept the ship of his heart on course.

Spreading Neuvillette’s perfect ass revealed a beautiful swirl of pink and blue coloring. Wriothesley found the target of his quest and sank his tongue to explore the depths of his dragon’s puckered hole. Relishing the squirming nonverbal moans he keeps his tongue wetly lashing the sensitive area.

Instinctively his body reacts to his desire to find lubricant and hydro wells into his hand. Equally amused, and surprised he pulls back and carefully pushes a finger into Neuvillette’s waiting entrance.

It slips in easily bringing a heady cry from Neuvillette. Smiling wide Wriothesley slips in another finger thrusting them rhythmically watching as Neuvillette moves his hips to guide his fingers to that sweet euthymia of nerves.

Taking his time he gradually increases the number of fingers stretching and prepares Neuvillette to take his cock. Anticipating sinking into Neuvillette’s perfect ass his cock twitches and drips precum.

“Need you Wriothesley.” Sobs Neuvillette. Wriothesley takes pity on his quivering dragon. He removes his hand and lines up his cock with Neuvillette’s beautiful fluttering hole. Hydro comes to him instinctively. Rubbing it all over his cock and the entrance he pushes slowly and deeply into Neuvillette.

They both moan together, Neuvillette feels as if he was made to ride Wriothesley’s cock. They fit so well together. Wriothesley thrusts back in snapping his hips. He grabs onto Neuvillette’s slim waist and sets a punishing speed urged further by Neuvillette’s ragged moans and cries of pleasure. Both given over to lust, no words are exchanged.

Wriothesley hears the slapping of their heated flesh and the rapturous interplay of their heavy breath and heated moans. Neuvillette rocks back in rhythm to meet his furtive thrusts. They create a new communion between the two of them. This bed is now a sacred shrine to their coupling.

Pleasure urgently builds in Wriothesley. He feels it gut deep spreading and threatening to crest. He wants his dragon to cum first. He reaches forward and begins stroking Neuvillette’s gorgeous cock.

“Come for me my dragon. I am so close but I won’t come until you finish for me.” He feels Neuvillette’s whole body shake as he hears a roar of pleasure rip from Neuvillette’s mouth. As his body tightens and releases his own delicious orgasm sneaks up on him.

He cries out releasing pulses of orgasmic bliss. He collapses forward resting on Neuvillette’s strong back to collect himself. The second orgasm dwarfed the first leaving Wriothesley feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion. He sinks deeply into the mattress allowing Neuvillette the freedom to move.

He had not intended to doze off. He only meant to enjoy the afterglow of sex and revel in the novelty of this experience. He opens his eyes, finding himself seated on Neuvillette’s lap, his hair being stroked as doting purple slitted eyes peer down at him full of adoration.

“Ah good, there you are, my chosen. I felt you needed a moment or two to regain your strength.”
Blinking a little to get his eyes to focus, Wriothesley rests his head back onto Neuvillette’s shoulder. “I have presents for you. I would need to go get them, however I seem to be quite stuck in a dragon’s trap.”

Neuvillette huffs out a noise that almost sounds like a chuckle. “A dragon’s trap? Yes, oh I see the parallel. If that's the case then this dragon has captured a very precious prize. I wish to keep you close for a few more moments.”

They stay in comfortable silence for a small while longer. Wriothesley feels restless, not one to stay still for long; he kisses his dragon’s forehead softly then gets himself disentangled from their tender embrace.

He located his shirt near the bed and picked up the stiff backing of the folder giving away the inner pocket it had been secured in. He removes it and saunters back to his watchful dragon. “You were staring.”

“Yes, I have an attractive bedfellow. I will stare as I like.” Wriothelsey laughs at the archaic word choice of the older man. “Here, this is the information I was able to secure.” He hands the file over to Neuvillette, still nude and reclining in the bed. Wriothesley sits on the edge of the bed, his foot tapping, waiting for Neuvillette to finish.

Looking up from the file, noticing Wriothesley’s restlessness Neuvillette puts down the folder. “I can look this over anytime, something has you agitated. Did that fool say something to you?” Concern crests Neuvillette’s fine features. Wriothesley loathes that he brought any distress to his dragon. “Nothing of note and nothing I haven’t heard before. He was one of the buyers from my foster parents. I know you suspected as much and I thought I was well past feelings resurfacing because of it.”

Icy eyes stare off into the distance. Wriothesley does not notice Neuvillette moving to embrace him from behind and wrap him in comfort.

“My beloved chosen one. Just rest. Come lay with me I will not have you wondering back to Meropide at this hour. Especially as drained as you are.” Wriothesley offers a small smile and allows himself to be guided back to bed. They lay together interlocked, taking comfort from each other. Sleep came swiftly and soundly for them both.

Three weeks had passed since the hit had been carried out. One deeply purple eye stared back at Neuvillette as he listened to the Captain of the Special Security and Surveillance drone on about her findings of late.

She finds it curious that several high ranking members of Fontaine Court have approached her directly to look into corruption at the office of the Iudex. Internally he roared at their small minded audacity.

“I am well aware of the accusations. Several petitions have crossed my desk. I assure you the individuals we are seeking to bring to trial have been quite busy with criminal behavior. The fact that they hold a title should not make them immune to judgment.”

The petite woman folds her hands maintaining an impassive unemotional expression. “Monsieur, they are asserting that they are being targeted for speaking out about your decisions.” Neuvillette huffs out a held breath.

“Captain, I have maintained Fontaine for centuries. I have weathered much derision against myself and my character. My record speaks for itself. They have nothing to worry about if they are law-abiding. Coming at me this way speaks more about their own hearts I feel.” he resists the urge to rub his forehead. His head has been throbbing with a migraine for most of the day.

“It is my job to oversee the courts and your job to collect evidence. I am certain you have first hand seen evidence of wrongdoing. The charges are not made up. We are all part of the same team here.”

Neuvillette feels a deep annoyance at being questioned like this. The Captain has been incredibly polite and professional. He sees underneath that she felt it was worthy of looking into which makes her dangerous to him.

Straight backed Chevreuse raises and places a file into Neuvillette’s hand. “This is regarding the disappearance of two noblemen. They have no connection to each other that we can find. Neither had financial troubles or any disgruntled family members or enemies.”

“There seems to be no trail that leads to them leaving anywhere. Their accounts with Northland have not been touched since their disappearances.” It speaks to foul play. I am wondering if your melusine network has heard anything about Monsieur Nouvelle or Monsieur Mescal.”

Neuvillette takes a beat to examine the files. Giving full attention to what has been collected. The Special Surveillance team has found precious few leads which is a good sign. Knowing they are circling this conclusion is not as good.

“I will see if they know anything, Captain. If there is anything to know I assure you the Marechaussee Phantom will find out about it.” He extends his arms out to his side in a gesture of placation.

Chevreuse gives a curt nod and a perfectly executed bow. “Keep that file for your inquiries. I will leave you to do your various duties.” He watches her leave and rubs his aching temple the second the door latches in her wake.

There are no fewer than 10 petitions of various severity requesting an inquiry into the Duke of Meropide. They vary from requesting an independent audit of the prison up to demanding the Duke be terminated and investigated for fraud and insurrection.

Fury bled through his veins. The contemptuous greed of these power seeking infantile self important leeches sucking the life out of the hard working foundations of Fontaine.

Grabbing at power and flailing to keep control. He threatened their standing with his hunt to thin their numbers. Going after his beloved chosen was not something he would allow.

He felt an emptiness in his chest as he thought of Wriothesley. They had not seen each other since their evening together. Neuvillette had canceled their appointments due to an influx of “concerned citizen” appointments.

He remembered their heated exchange how full he had felt with Wriothesley fucking into him. It was new and energizing. Their morning had been soft and gentle.

He had made sure Wriothesley was sufficiently dosed with his Ischus before he left. They both preferred he give it personally. A shiver runs through him as he remembers details of their shared intimacy.

He had several trials lined up to prosecute more of these unctuous nobles. He would stay the course. He needed to restore his authority and with that power he could make real change happen. If they pushed much further he would make them wish a flood was the only thing they had to fear.

Realizing he needed a break he changes out of his formal judge robes keeping his tight trousers and poet blouse he quickly puts his hair up into a high ponytail tucking his rhinophores carefully over his ears. He slips into a muted traveling cloak pulling the hood up and slinks out a back passage.

Weeks whittled away in the Warden's mind. It felt like only yesterday that he had appeased his sovereign, unfortunately as the time swiftly passed his vision too deteriorated. Practice had led him to distinguish traversing normally in his surroundings. Today he woke up with ever yearning frustrations manifesting, he decided to go to the Old Iron Lady’s Fighting Ring.

His mind drifted to the state of the Fortress. One thing it was good for was holding secrets. Not a peep about the forbidden zone or the sluice gate had reached his ears. There were those in the fold attempting to organize the imprisoned aristocrats looking to marshall in a new regime. He knew his gardes and the majority of the prison population would keep them from gaining much ground.

Those that had been under Dougier’s thumb never mentioned what happened to him. They chose to put it behind them. It left him free to focus on the ring looming before him. He jumps over the top rope nodding at Roussimoff.

He is fairly certain his opponent does not know about his loss of sight. He walks naturally onto the metal stage. Roche stands before him with his familiar Sumerian scarlet bandana over his eyes.

"It is an honor, Your Grace, I've been waiting for this opportunity to not just learn but teach our ways in the Eyes of the Sands.” Roche takes a deep bow.

"Considering your talent, I've so happened to want to see this new martial style in action." He smiles wide hearing Roche shuffle his stance to a southpaw.

Rouissmoff shouts the count throughout the ring. Wriothesley doesn't notice as a familiar tug of energy slips into his senses. As if someone is watching him.

“Three!” Rouissmoff’s voice finally rings in Wriothesley’s ear bringing him present. Roche grabs his left forearm intending to throw him overhead and behind. While his instinct is caught off guard momentarily, Wriothesley turns the tables and falters back on his step. He backpedaled away from the large Sumarian, slipping out of his grasp with an ice thin margin.

Surprised, he feels the frustration of sweating tension in Roche's dual elemental armguards shift. Yellow streaked arms move in one fluid motion, time slows, as he predicts the flashing of geo.

Grappling Roche’s left arm with both his hands...the cracking of bones stings his ears as the bandit wreaths a gasp of pain. He knew he calculated his blows properly, was he this strong before?

Roche counters with throwing out a sweep of his right calf. Hearing the creak of the metal, Wriothesely jumps out of the sweep landing him to his opponent's right side ducking low; he anticipates to jab, but instead hooks right into Roche's rib. A rough gasp escapes the Sumerian, as he hears him collapse to a almost fatal blow. Rousiamoff then rings the bell before any more damage is done.

As soon as the bout is called, Wriothesley calls the gardes to grab the head nurse's attention. He approaches Roche, who isn't passed out, surprising considering he had done quite a lot of damage on the man. Roche breathes in an air of exhaustion.

"You truly are a worthy leader like they say." Roche coughs red onto the ground. "Apologies for this."

"No need to apologize I was anticipating not getting this rough personally, Roche."

He takes a deep sigh. As a garde approaches him and whispers the name of his Savior into his ear. Wriothesley turns his head at the hint of that familiar petrichor scent. He nodded and began to walk over to Neuvillette; he turned back towards Roche to offer one last apology before falling in step next to his gorgeous Savior.

Neuvillette sits upon the old red cushioned couch as Wriothesley leans against his desk, crossing his arms with a smug grin on his face.

“Like what you saw?” His dragon shifts in his seat crossing his long legs. The robes are gone, his long silver hair still pulled high in a ponytail exposing his long graceful neck. The travel cloak had been parted with upon entering the office. Neuvillette’s lithe form was easily telegraphed through the tight profile of his clothing.

“Are they always that short?” Neuvillette raises an eyebrow as he questions his chosen treasure. A barked surprised laugh is the response Wriothesley gives. “No, uh, not normally. I think your influence on me has made me stronger than I realized.”

“Shit, Neuvillette, I think I punctured his lung when I hit his side. I thought I was pulling my punches. Going full strength would have killed the man. I can’t be killing people during friendly matches.”

Neuvillette’s brow furrows. “I would prefer your killing to be strategic and only for me. Are you worried for the man? Do you wish to make sure he is going to recover?”

Wriothesley waves his hand downplaying the concern. “Nah, he’s with Winnie and he was conscious when I left. He is in the best hands. I’ll check on him later.” he chuckles to himself.

“I was looking forward to seeing his technique. I barely got a chance to. I don’t know if I can pull it back enough not to seriously maim people.”

“I admire the strength you exhibited. You move with elegant efficiency. I could not take my eyes off of you.” Heat floods Wriothesley’s cheeks. Neuvillette stands, closing the distance between them.

He reaches up and gently follows the faded scar line under his eye with a gloved finger. “Your eyes, my chosen, I have neglected you for too long. I had come here selfishly to soothe my frayed nerves.”

Wriothesley gently intertwined his fingers with both of Neuvillette’s hands, he nuzzled into the hand by his face. “Hey, let's sit right here together. Tell me what has you so frazzled. Then I promise I’ll take my medicine like a good boy.” He flashes a wicked smile which earns him an exasperated huff from his dragon.

They sit comfortably together. Wriothesley urges Neuvillette to lean into him and relax. “Ok sweetness, I am all ears.” Neuvillete collects himself and lays out the increasing volume of petitions to unseat Wriothesley as Duke.

The increased number of appointments he has had with members of the nobility regarding the investigations, trials, and arrests saying they feel targeted. That Chevreuse had come to his office earlier that day and her questions regarding Mescal and Nouvelle had him on edge.

On top of all the political paperwork he had been catching a tail of Navia’s top men following him and noting his schedule. He made a point to go different ways and leave at different times but he could always sense them nearby. He had taken to having one of his melusine act as courrier with his sinthe contacts.

Wriothesley simply listened, petting the soft fine silver strands of Neuvillette’s hair, rubbing his temples and processing the increasing pile of worry Neuvillette had to contend with. Inspiration hits him.

“I have one solution for you. We can at least know where people of interest are. One moment.” He kisses Neuvillette on the forehead, walks over to a locked drawer at his large central desk. He strolls back, taking his seat.

In his hand is an unfamiliar creature, its technology of the Research institute as Neuvillette identifies it. The rustic look of the thin wings and lines running to corkscrew lemon copper eyes, bronze metallic sheen reflect in his slitted mauve eyes.

"I could tell from our recent correspondences that you were getting overwhelmed. You wrote something along the lines of… wishing you could see certain things coming. I can’t tell the future but these little guys can tell you where a target is in the present.”

He smiles wide looking into his beautiful dragon’s astonished eyes. I asked the Research Institute.. a Monsieur Nacker, I wouldn't say I enjoy the man’s company much, but let's just say these can be planted by the melusines easily."

From behind his wrappings he takes out a Marecheusse pocket watch, he presses the side button and on the glassy interior is a map of the Regions of Fontaine. Displayed was the court itself and a single bright blue dot which resembled the detection unit.

"Don't ask. I'm not a scientist but they said it's powered by arkhium they have resourced from the Fortress. All I know is that it works pretty damn well." He smiles widely, pleased to have unburdened his Savior a little.

Neuvillette stares in wonder at the little device. He nods and pockets the tiny devices. “Thank you, this will prove very useful. I have several targets that I need to know the movements of. I have a feeling I will need your special skills in the near future. I cannot have nosy Special Security officers ruining my chance at reuniting with my authority.”

Wriothesley’s smile widens wolfishly. “No, that would be the worst case scenario. But there is nothing to worry about. I have your back. Now, I have to keep my promise and take my medicine.”

The intimacy of Wriothesley suckling his Ischus from him filled Neuvillette with peace. This man nestled on his lap was his answer to everything. He was his chosen and his alone. He would help him assure that Fontaine would be remade in the image of his making.

Over the next few days the meeting with the Justice won’t leave Chevresuse’s thoughts. Nothing stood out to her as different. Something wasn’t quite right and she couldn’t place it. The powerful and great High Judge of Fontaine had not changed.

His flowery language, and the impassive expression he gave were still a constant. Yet her gut was telling her there was more to it. She had no idea what. There was no string to pull at except the deep suspicion that the Justice knew more than he was saying.

There was only one person she knew out there that could sniff out the truth: it was Charlotte. She had a tenuous relationship to the newspaper as there was much she also had to keep close to the vest.

She trusted the journalist to be tenacious in discovering the truth. Chevreuse finds the pink haired photographer exactly where she expected her to be, begging for an audience with Monsieur Neuvillette at the Palais Mermonia. She watches Charlotte attempt to manipulate the little melusine behind the desk every way she can think of.

Sighing deeply she posts herself outside the Palais leaning back crossing her arms. Eventually, Charlotte exits the building frustration roiling off of her.

“Oye! Papers! You got a minute?” Chevreuse waves her hand to get Charlotte’s attention. Large spectacled eyes blink in confusion as she slowly gestures to herself, a confused expression cresting her brow. “Papers?” She focuses on Chevreuse who smirks at her giving a militarily precise bow.

“You know because you write for the papers. So I am calling you Papers now." She walks up and pats Charlotte on her shoulder perhaps a little too hard as the girl physically moves from the force. “Ok glad that’s settled. Look Papers we need to chat. But uh,” She looks back at the imposing edifice of the Palais.

“Not here. Come on, follow me.” They end up at the outside cafe. Chevreuse treats them both to a warm beverage and choses a table away from the walk path. Short of a patrolling melusine it is a quiet part of the day and there is not much foot traffic to interrupt them

Taking a deep sigh Chevreuse takes a sip of her tea. “Ok, I will get straight to it. I don’t know what it is. I just think something isn’t right up at the Palais. I have no proof and no leads. I just have a hunch.

The thing is a hunch can’t be used in court and it can't be used to arrest anyone. I know there is something off about the types of cases going to trial and something is bothering me about the newest disappearances.

From what I can tell that Mescal fellow never had any trial on the books and he was last seen at his arrest. Now this Nouvelle guy is just gone. Something is weird I just don’t know what. You know?” She keeps her voice low constantly scanning and stopping conversation periodically for customers passing too closely.

Sipping her latte, Charlotte takes on a look of contemplation. “I also think it's curious. I was looking to get a formal statement from the Palais. I know that it would go a long way to calm the Court. My boss told me to make a formal appointment.”

“When I went to get an appointment I was told the formal response at this point is no comment for ongoing trials or investigations. That is always the case. But like you said. My nose senses a story in the Palais” She folds her hands in her lap nervously and continues.

“My next thought was to try to get the new Duke of Meropide to take an interview with me. I want to know his reaction to all the press he has gotten lately. I just can’t find the guy and I can’t get access to Meropide.”

Concentration colors Chevreuse’s face as she sinks into thought, just as she is about to speak a small smiling melusine approaches the table. “Good day ladies.” she politely starts. “I was hoping you would be of assistance to me.” The little blue melusine is holding a clipboard, her eyes shape into little smiling crescents. Charlotte speaks first. “Oh yes, good day Miss Minthe. How may we be of assistance?” She returns a cordial smile.

Minthe skips around the table and places the clipboard in between the two women. “In an effort to make sure we are doing our best, the Marechaussee Phantom is doing citizen surveys to see how we can improve. I would be so happy if you both participated. Your insight would be invaluable.”

The two look at each other and sigh at the interruption but have no reason to rebuke Minthe. She hands them both a survey as they meticulously read and begin taking the survey in earnest. As they are diligently busy, neither notice that each acquires a tiny passenger. Minthe had followed her orders to the letter, She patiently waits to collect the completed forms and skips away.

Several beats pass as Chevreuse watches her go. She waits until Minthe can no longer be seen. “I don’t think we are any closer to an answer but keep me posted alright? I have some hornet nests to kick and I am pretty sure you have sources you have yet to tap.”

“Let’s see if we can’t start pulling some strings and unraveling this mystery.” Charlotte smiles, “Sure we can meet regularly and exchange notes. I will get us a private room at the Hotel Debord.” Chevreuse nods. “See you in about a week.”

Neuvillette paces his office. He has had less patience of late. These humans are chewing on his frayed nerves like a swarm of piranha. Even the calm indomitable spirit of his chosen was not soothing him as it normally did.

They were finally able to meet for a scheduled weekly meeting. Neuvillette had blocked the time off. He had tirelessly patiently listened to countless attacks on his decision to raise Wriothesley to Duke. Stacks of petitions scattered his desk.

He watched Wriothesley approach him and gently take both of his hands. “I know it looks like everyone wants me out. The facts are that it doesn’t matter what the nobility wants. They have no jurisdiction over Meropide and my inmates accept me as the leader.

All of these petitions are here to waste our time. If you are worried about placating these stupid pieces of paper you aren’t in the court overseeing trials.”

“I know you are right.” he swallows down a growl. “I dislike all the things they say regarding your character. You have done more for Fontaine in your short tenure than any of these so-called great families have done in centuries.” he peeks at his tracking watch. “Those two kept men of Miss Navia’s. They never leave the side of this building.”

“They track my every move. I have not had a moment to rest in weeks. I know what she seeks and I cannot give it to her.” he sighs letting out a deep sigh. “I cannot take much more of their insipid interference. I feel them setting up camp near my town house.”

“They know what shops I buy my water at, my breakfast order, how many appointments I have. I haven’t dared leave the Court. I only just managed to slip their tail to come visit you once.”

With an exasperated sigh he sinks into the luxurious, plush cushions of the couch. “I must find some way to settle the unrest the nobility is feeling. I do think a public meeting to explain why the petitions will remain unanswered.

Then a peace offering of some kind. A Festival Celebrating the Arts of all media?” he sighs heavily. “I may have to ask Lady Furina for assistance with this.”

Wriothesley smiles and sits next to him. He chuckles darkly, “Just wait for me to make my leave before you call her to your office. I need a head start before I am caught in her game of twenty questions. She won’t want me to ask my twenty questions back.” He kisses his Savior’s forehead, smoothing the hair away. “I can easily take care of the Melus and Silver problem for you. Just say the word.”

Exhaustion hits Neuvillette, he leans forward allowing the firm solid body of his chosen to support him. “You needn’t clean up all of my problems, beloved. I am capable. You lent your ears and now I have a direction and solution. Now, I just wish to rest here with you, just like this.”

Wrapped in the arms of his chosen Neuvillette notices his mind still spins with plans but it slows some. Captured memories of comfort that raked from Wriothesley's bold fingers. While chaos exploded outside these walls, all Neuvillette felt was peace. No one at that moment would take his Chosen, and he would ensure that at all cost.

Candle light spills over a perfectly starched elegantly set table. Chevreuse sits stiffly having come to the appointed room early. She sneaks a crispy french fry from her uniform pocket and quickly chews it as the door briskly opens. Charlotte enters followed by an unexpected additional guest.

Purple eyes crackling with electro meet her eyes. Clorinde gives a curt compulsory bow. “Captain Chevreuse, I hope you don’t mind. Charlotte was picking my brain and mentioned you had been looking into suspicious activity around the Court of Fontaine. I was hoping to exchange notes.”

“It is an unexpected pleasure. I think that we should simply just start.” Charlotte nods in agreement as both women take seats. Their lunches are set elegantly on the table and the wait staff leaves them to their meal in peace.

Stabbing at a piece of lettuce Chevreuse starts the conversation. “Alright, so Clorinde, we are really curious about the recent disappearances of Mescal and Nouvelle in particular.”

“The Phantom seems to have pitifully few leads. Before I go too far into my findings, do you know if the office of the Iudex is holding some information back?”

Moving her food around the plate Clorinde takes in all that she just heard. “I have not heard of anything confidential being kept back from the investigation. The Palais has been inundated with petitions and trials.

The trial schedule has been brutal. I have been working overtime for months. In my time as a dualist I have never seen the court like this. I don’t have a ton of love for the nobility but I can see why they are scared.”

“Interesting,” Chevreuse trails off mulling over what the dualist just said. “I have something that is interesting. I’m pretty sure I happened across one of the sinthe ring drop spots. I was chatting with Monsieur Talvat in the Vasari fountain plaza.

He’s the photographer there. In passing he casually mentioned that yesterday someone knocked over a crate in the alleyway nearby. It only crossed his mind because the guy acted really skittish. I went to investigate all those crates and found this.” She places a small handwritten note.

It was hastily scrawled and the paper was a little torn but legible. “I think I intercepted this before its intended recipient.”

A gasp left Charlotte. “Wait, Chevreuse, is that information accurate though? Are you actually supposed to be actively increasing your presence on the Navia line?” Chevreuse responds with a curt nod.

“It is. I can’t say I like the implications of seeing it on this note.” Clorinde leans against the table, her posture unassumingly casual. Chevreuse sees the serious sheen in her eyes as they darken in realization.

“It seems that “N” is possibly our missing man Nouvelle. He must have an informant quite high up in our ranks. Very few people knew that order would be given beforehand.”

Worry crests Charlotte’s face. “I hate even thinking but the coincidence is too real and obvious not to mention. It implies someone in a very high position whose name starts with “N” is the mole. I cannot imagine him doing this though. But..” she shakes her head. Chevreuse furrows her brow.

“While I would normally think it unlikely, during my conversation with his Honor I felt something was off. No single thing I could point my finger to just a feeling. It is worth keeping on the radar. A possibility. I can't help but think there has to be something to the increase in types of trials and frequency of trials. That also heavily involves the Iudex.”

This possibility weighs heavily between the three women. They were loath to think that the very symbol of justice was involved in anything underhanded, and devious.

However they were the defenders of Fontaine, they needed to stop all threats foreign and domestic. Hopefully the thing was just speculation, if it wasn’t they would be finding a way to bring down the very pillars of their society.

Chapter Text

Stars twinkle in a clear cloudless sky. Well dressed men and women mingle, chatter ranging from mundane to profane. On stage sat Neuvillette straight-backed and regal, his cane positioned directly in front of him supporting his hands which grip the elegant knob at its end. Next to him is Wriothesley who is uncharacteristically quiet.

Taking in the sea of people searching for patterns, exits, and for danger. Scanning and rescanning. He would soon be giving a speech that summarily tells these “fine people” to kick rocks. Part of him was incredibly smug to do so, though he also realized that a group of humans. Especially those afraid of losing power, were incredibly dangerous.

Speech memorized, he feels prepared and confident. Neuvillette needed him to shine like a polished stone. Pulling up every ounce of charm he had he relaxes into his seat, shifting into the familiar charismatic mask that has served him well. Offering a small quirk of a smile to his Savior dragon he gives a reassuring nod.

Understanding the prompt Neuvillette slams down his cane reverberating a large thud throughout the cavernous hall. Chatter immediately dissipates as the audience hurries to their seats.

“Good Evening.” Neuvillette’s booming baritone floats easily through the Opera. This is where he shines. Wriothesley sits straighter giving due respect.

“I have brought you here to quell your misgivings and fears. Malicious rumors have been circulating which have taken route in your imaginations. Meropide is not run by a boogie man but by a human man.”

“Well qualified and competent, I wish for you to listen to his words in earnest. Stay until the end as I have a further announcement. Without further delay I introduce his Grace, The Duke of Meropide, Wriothesley. Thank you for your attention. You have my gratitude.”

Neuvillette gracefully sits conceding the podium to Wriothesley. Rising with fluid alacrity he stills in front of the podium looking everyone who has the courage to meet his eyes directly into their eyes in turn. Taking a deep breath he begins.

“Monsieur Neuvillette gave me a very fancy introduction. However I am simply a man doing a job. I started in Meropide as an exiled convict. Completed my entire sentence and paid my dues.

I can appreciate wanting someone from your family to run Meropide. They are known and comfortable to you.” Feeling more comfortable he walks away from the podium. Pacing the stage he continues addressing the crowd.

“Meropide is intentionally left under its own rule for a reason. It is not governed under the same rules. There is no oversight, not even from Monsieur Neuvillette. The exiles will test anyone new taking leadership.”

“They tested me. I was one of them and they still wanted me to prove my worth. Your business minded sons and daughters would make wonderful consultants as I begin to expand personal contracts. I value their expertise in business acumen and would love to learn from them.”

At this point a large man in a suit coat that fit him two sizes ago stands red faced. “I smell a rat! Duke!” he spits the word out as if it is a curse instead of a title. “The only way you got that job was getting on your knees!” Emboldened by this man’s audacity, more taunting and increasingly vulgar accusations are thrown as the crowd begins to swarm around the anger.

Power surges from Neuvillette. Wind of his own making swirls around him as he stands, his eyes full of deadly authority. “Sir you will stand down!” Guards come from various corners grappling the main offenders

“That’s right, defend your whore. Chief Justice!” the man hissed as he was dragged spitting on angry words out of the Opera house.

Shivers climb up Wriothesley’s spine. Watching Neuvillette command a room was a drug. He could watch it for hours and never be bored. Realizing he was still staring he takes a moment to breathe and recenter.

Neuvillette watches him to judge his readiness to continue. Wriothesley catches purple mesmerizing eyes with his own and nods assurance. Turning his attention to the crowd he continues.

Flashing his most charming smile he returns to his speech. “Now, what I say next is not due to any perceived superiority or a slight to your abilities. It is just the truth of the underworld. Outsiders are not trusted. Anyone new would have an incredibly difficult uphill battle gaining respect. Implementation of fear and scarcity will make production suffer. Dead and sick convicts can’t produce meks.”

Moving to the edge of the stage he sits casually on the edge swinging his feet. He surveys the crowd noting that they are listening and following. Good, he is not disappointing Neuvillette. “Last but not least, I’d like to address rumors circulating that I have his Honor’s ear. I assure the populace that I don’t have this kind of power. Monsieur Neuvillette is impartial, and if anything I look up to his words.”

“He is someone I strive to be better for myself and for the governing of Meropide alone. Recently, I’ve seen raids and arrests that are frightening. Many people have been targets, but know in truth that anyone not trafficking or involved in these cases should feel pacified and safe.”

“Of course I can’t speak for all of Fontaine, but I assure the whole of my duties are keeping crime low at all costs. With that said, there are plenty of lucrative ways to make money without resorting to illegal means.” Jumping back up to his feet in a simple looking motion he finishes back in front of the podium.

Holding his hands out in supplication. “I am happy to accept applications for those among you looking to expand your personal security. I have implemented a wide variety of reforms making more production possible.”

“It benefits us all for me to keep the position that has been trusted to me. I already have the residents, many of whom chose to make their home even after their sentence is concluded. They have chosen me and their choice has been notarized by Monsieur Neuvillette. I hope we can come to an understanding and work together.”

Returning to his seat Wriothesley gives a subtle smile to Neuvillette and nods just once. The crowd's murmur begins to pick back up waving through the Opera reminding Wriothesley of a swarm of angry hornets.

Crack! Neuvillette’s cane clamors for order and the crowd’s murmur dies down. From once more center stage a mellifluous voice surrounds the crowd. “Thank you all for your courteous attention.

At this point it should be understood that I do not have authority in Meropide. I respect your rights to petition the court for change. However, Meropide is independent and outside of my purview. Your petitions cannot be followed up on.” Neuvillette scans the room looking for possible unrest.

Taking a deep breath he continues. “Because of this I wished to extend an additional branch of Good Will. I have been in a conference with Lady Furina, and I feel our weary souls deserve a celebration.”

“Fontaine is a place for dreamers, inventors, artists and visionaries. I proposed a celebration with a festival. Details will follow soon. It should provide opportunities to expand your enterprises beyond Fontaine’s borders. Please enjoy the refreshments and beverages in the foyer. Stay and discuss whatever business you have. My portion of the evening is closed.”

Turning briskly on his foot Neuvillette moves with surety and purpose stilling momentarily to allow Wriothelsey time to rise and fall into step by his side. Neuvillette guides him through back hallways familiar to him as the cacophony of vaulted questions, exasperations, arguments and expletives from the crowd falls behind them.

Sliding his arm around Wriothesley’s offered elbow the two men walk back in silence until Neuvillette turns. “That awful man in the crowd. What he said about you.” Wriothesley arches an eyebrow cracking a smile.

“Sure his words weren’t for pleasant company but come on your Honor I run a prison. His words rolled right off my back. What affected me was watching you stand in your power. That was why I had to take a second. If we had been alone…” trailing off he looks down and clears his throat.

“What would you do, Your Grace?” Neuvillette attempts to pry as he opens the door to his office. Stepping in first, Wriothesley waits for the office door to close.

“I would have proven that fine articulate gentleman right. I would have gotten on my knees and sucked you right there on the stage.” He smirks looking up and finds deep pools of purple laced with lust,

“You can’t say these things to me, my dear chosen. I have a very hard time keeping my hands to myself around you.” Icy eyes widen with surprise. “Sweet Savior, you don’t have to. No one here but me. You can afford to let loose a little, yeah?”

Strong arms caged around pushing him back against the solid large desk that centerpieced the well-appointed office. With urgency Neuvillette grasped behind Wriothesley’s head pulling him to meet needy lips seeking solace in a kiss. Their mouths met at the moment their bodies crushed together. Feeling out the pace from Neuvillette’s actions, Wriothesley grabs slender hips pulling himself even closer.

Lost in dizzy sensation all that exists is their tethered connection.The intoxication of their mutual arousal throbbed between them. Deepening the kiss further Neuvillette eagerly pulled on Wriothesley’s tie.

Clumsily attempting to separate the Warden from his clothing. Smiling while locked in a deep kiss he takes pity on his needy Savior. About to unbutton his shirt a sharp knock stops them.

Pulling away Neuvillette offers a regretful smile and answers the summoning knock. Aeife, a melusine guard stationed to the Epiclese enters into the room after giving her greetings. “I have a report Monsieur Neuvillette.” She starts looking over with a bright, friendly, smile at Wriothesley.

He nods, returning the smile in his impish fashion. “Your Grace! I am so happy you are here!. Thank you for all your help! The melusines know how much you have done for Monsieur Neuvillette. You have our gratitude.”

Her sincerity hit Wriothesley in the same way Sigewinne’s sincerity always does. He smiles earnestly. “I am honored to assist. Monsieur Neuvillette is incredibly special to all of us. I will keep doing my part.”

They both look up at Neuvillette at the same time who smiles fondly. She pulls a folder from her coat and places it squarely on Neuvillette’s desk.

“I would be happy to hit the major points. Details are provided in the folder.” She stands at attention waiting for Neuvillette’s cue to continue. A gentle nod in her direction confirms she can do so.

“Firstly, coded message drops have been delayed as Monsieur Melus of Poisson has been tailing Phantom Operatives tasked with this important task. We have traded off multiple times to hide our movements and lose his trail. He has proven to be observant and difficult to outwit.”

Neuvillette releases a deep sigh. Rubbing his head he pulls the folder closer as confirming photographs and detailed notes from the melusine back up the report. “This must stop. They are becoming a larger issue than simply an annoyance.”

Strong scarred hands apply reassuring weight to his shoulders. “Dear chosen one. I have asked too much of you lately. I will handle this issue myself. No need to worry yourself. You have an entire Fortress to run.”

“You know me too well. I was going to offer a solution, you beat me to it. I will leave it to your capable hands.” Wriothesley relaxes taking over rubbing his weary dragon’s temples.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, we also have reports from our sister who works at the Hotel Debord. She overheard a concerning conversation between a journalist for The Steambird, a famous dualist, and the Captain of the Maison Gardiennage’s Special Security and Surveillance Patrol.”

“They intercepted a key message meant to reroute a delivery away from the Navia line. Their discovery has them becoming suspicious of you Monsieur. Not to mention our supplies to assist in more noteworthy arrests were interrupted when the convoy was checked at the Navia Line and our couriers were arrested.”

Meeting a practiced neutral expression the little melusine gives a curt bow. “That is all I have at the moment. I will leave you with the rest of your evening.” Offering a gentle smile reserved for the melusines Neuvillette offers a small wave. “Thank you for your hard work Aeife. Please enjoy your evening.”

Neuvillette puts a few shining gears and screws in Aeife’s hand. “I think that is enough for a Mamere original. You should treat yourself.” He closes the door behind her departure slumping back into his chair.

“I will have to find creative solutions for all these problems. I’m also feeling that our timeline is shrinking. I will have to increase indemnitium into the Oratrice.”

Wriothesley goes back to massaging aching dragon temples. “I didn’t think it was going to get easier. I’m pretty sure I know which three individuals are investigating the sinthe ring and that is a formidable trio. Thinking that they would have been oblivious would have been to underestimate their intelligence. But I do have a solution that will work for a little while.”

Wriothesley begins to lay out his idea in a low dulcet tone that soothes Neuvillette’s ragged nerves. He had chosen so well. He understood both sides of the law and he read people very well. He knew what would work as a distraction. What would actually pull attention from them. It was simple and brilliant.

Several things needed to be coordinated for Wriothesley’s plan to work. Neuvillette had the perfect individual to reach out to. This person had an extensive network of intelligence. He pens a letter hoping to move things along as quickly as possible.

The following morning Sedene sets his mail on his desk handing him his schedule for the day. “Thank you kindly, Sedene. I appreciate your continued diligence. I know you have been instrumental in maintaining order within the Palais.”

“You have been strong, firm, and fair. I noticed and I appreciate it.” Sedene smiles warmly up at Neuvillette.

“Of Course, Monsieur Neuvillette, it’s my job after all. Someone has to look after you. I’ll leave you to enjoy your morning.” Watching the spry melusine skip out of his office, he notices a thick, large, vellum envelope promising the answers he has been waiting for.

Smiling, he reads the correspondence from the helpful Harbinger. He would certainly find a way to reward her beyond simply providing information. She could write her own ticket as she had handed him something more precious than mora.

It bewildered him that through his centuries watching humanity they had not striven to improve themselves. They struggled most days to practice basic courtesy with one another.

This envelope contained another soul who squandered their life debasing other humans. He surfaced on the Hearth’s radar after a new child came into their fold. This child had spent time within the system this man facilitated.

Why? Why did they keep selling each other? Why the youngest and most vulnerable? Shaking his head he considers the task ahead as a mercy to Fontaine.

The man whose name, address, and movements were diligently notated and triple checked would soon be an obituary. He represented the worst of Fontaine. Neuvillette understood that humans were complicated beings. He knew logically they were not innately evil.

They were flawed and passionate. It made them a danger to themselves and others. The ones that had resources almost always hoarded them. He was a dragon he understood the desire to hoard.

These were humans though, it was not their nature to hoard treasure. It was their nature to seek social networks. To emote, cry, laugh, scream, yell, to feel. He has come to realize that in many of them their nature is to be cruel, to fear and separate from anything that they don’t understand including other humans.

A loud knock breaks into his thoughts. Sedene promptly opens the door, “Monsieur, your next appointment is here.” she gestures to a man an inch or two shorter than himself.

He is probably around the same age as his chosen, not as impressive in muscle strength. He has been a member of the Maison Gardiennage for a while and rose through the ranks settling into the Special Security and Patrol as vice-captain.

Gesturing to the couch, he stands moving over to the tea cart. When the man is seated he continues. “Thank you for meeting with me. I have a special job just for someone like you. But before I get into that. I think it is customary to enjoy some tea.”

“Thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” the man shifts nervously, fixing his uniform. Neuvillette quietly goes about preparing the tea and slips a special dose of his Ischus into the cup watching the man check and recheck how his uniform is laying.

This variant is fast acting, or should be. While he had wanted Wriothesley in his sway and comfortable in his company, he wanted this man to be in his thrall. He will need to do exactly what he is told.

Setting the steaming tea cup on the table, Neuvillette sips his water. “Please take your time, relax and drink the tea. I have a few documents that need my immediate attention.”

Working in silence Neuvillette observes the man drink the tea and gradually relax a little more. Setting an empty tea cup down. He sits waiting for the Iudex to finish.

Neuvillette works through several more documents gauging how much time has passed. At around half an hour he looks up. “That should be all that needs my signature immediately. I will run them out to Sedene. Run the length of my office five times while I do that.”

Draconic purple eyes curve with a smile that does not show on his face as the man immediately complies with his command. He walks out leaving the man doing his sprints. It's excellent that his mind is already accepting his commands so easily. Everything else should go smoothly.

Dropping the documents off with a nod and a smile he checks in to make sure nothing else needs immediate attention. Finding no such emergencies he comes back to find the vice-captain running full sprint to the center of the room. Breathing a little hard he stops to catch his breath blinking a little.

“So glad you still keep up on your calisthenic training. I am certain now that you will be able to do the task I have in mind. Please sit” Immediately the man sits as curiosity paints his face. Neuvillette takes out a folder.

“Take this and read it. Memorize it. Once you have it in your mind, bring the folder to me. Your instructions are in the folder. When you have completed the task you will have no recollection of this. Nod that you understand.” The man nods and opens the folder to begin reading.

Returning to his desk to continue the neverending paperwork task that is the majority of his day. He allows himself a small smile that only touches his eyes. Watching this man concentrating on the information within the folder, he ponders the simple elegance of the plan.

The vice-captain under his control would be a wonderful scapegoat. It won’t take Chevreuse long to see that the weapon used is one that only her own very elite, niche group uses. Yes after he killed the target in the folder all eyes would be on him.

Perfectly fitting the requirements to lure out the optimistic ice detective and the red one-eyed clever captain, this man, now his thrall, was everything he needed tenfold. They would both be led by the nose, without a trace of evidence leading back to him. Leaving his time available to pursue Navia's two personal bodyguards.

All other thoughts fell to the borders of his mind as this masterful deception unfolded. He felt the thrumming of his authority working through Fontaine itself. Humans ostracized him, kept him locked in, but that didn't stop him.

Water was connected within his palms, his own finger tips tracing up the shell of his ear. Feeling through his own ministrations, he felt his power calling out like a siren's call. Close, ever closer.... he would regain it all again.

He would judge everyone on the face of Teyvat and above. Archon, human, and Celestia none were safe from judgement. That is what he had been brought in this imperfect form to do, he intended to see it through.

Lost in thought as the gramophone played the music he had danced with Neuvillette to at the ball Wriothesley sighs deeply. His hearing had definitely improved as he lost his eyesight. The dripping pipes were a constant background noise.

A companion to his wandering thoughts. Many things had changed in a short time. Never had he pined for power, he barely believed he deserved the title of Duke. Now, he had the attention of the most powerful being in the Nation, a very ravishing all-powerful dragon.

With Neuvillette’s blessing and seeing the fruits of his labor, he began to understand his worth. As more nobles were felled by his Ischus-infused body, the thought of killing again seemed more… thrilling.

Thirsting for more conquest did not compare to the thirst he held, the maddening craving for his Savior’s bonding kiss. Thoughts of a grazing touch spilled adrenaline through him that drove him nearly to the brink of sanity.

Neuvillette had chosen him, had cleansed him and found him above all others worthy to stand by his side. His sense that this is where the thresholds of his faith belonged, in the confines of his Sovereign’s design. With unfathomable intent, he felt seen in ability, and worth, it made him ravenous for more of that special attention. Creating a peace in his decision to be his Savior’s Chosen.

Knowing full well that power tended to corrupt those who had it, he looked back at his actions with discernment. Agreeing to Neuvillette’s plan meant more would die. If he does nothing, the cycle of “elite” greedy men, men like his foster father, Mescal, Dougier, and Nouvelle preying on their fellow Fontanians continues. Their ideals would not change. They were far too comfortable to share their windfall.

Never had he sought out power, he picked up the mantle after he had no exit papers. Most of Meropide operated under its own machination, automated by the fuel of its people. Tyranny was never needed within these walls, which meant he could devote all of his attention to Neuvillette, if that is what his Sovereign desired.

In the whirlwind of events that had tumbled him into the lap of a Sovereign Dragon, his conclusion was that he chose Neuvillette. He craved the love he was showered with from Neuvillette, even with the repercussions that fuel his bloodlust.

Slowly the necessity of force was becoming prominent. With a deep breath realizing the hour he grabs several folders that require attention and heads to his Head Nurse for a much needed check up.

Wishing to minimize the tongue lashing he would get at his lateness, he jogged the familiar upper levels. Waning sight or not, he felt the fortress as an extension of himself.

Upon entering the infirmary he flashes his most apologetic smile. Reaching out with his new found inner sight he senses no one else in the room except an irritated Sigewinne. “I know I am late, but I brought these for you. Saved you the trip.”

Walking swiftly down the stairs, he crosses the room and places the folders on her desk. Hoping this offering will alleviate some of the scolding he is in for.

“That’s the very least you can do, Your Grace, being as late as you are. What in the world kept you?” He didn’t need an elemental signature to know exactly how the little melusine was standing.

“My sincerest apologies Winnie, I honestly just lost track of time. I came as soon as I realized my error. Come on, give me credit. You didn’t have to chase me down this time. That and I brought your reports because I’m a nice guy.” He offers his most charming smile.

Meeting him where he stood on the opposite side of her desk, she began tutting and prodding. “Your Grace, please you can at least sit for me if you want to properly apologize for your late arrival.” She gestures and he complies.

She guides him towards one of the beds promptly sitting down at the edge. He removes his vestage and shirt so she can analyze his vitals looking him over. “Also you know the drill now, I need to completely look at you. Please step behind the privacy screen and I will meet you there in a few.”

Sighing, Wriothesley heads behind the screen undoing his belt as he walks. “Winnie, you are the only person who can get me out of my clothes this fast.” Sigewinne giggles. “Your Grace, I don’t think that’s quite true, at least not with recent events as they are.”

Stopping mid-stride, Wriothesley turns around in time to see a self-satisfied smile spread across Sigewinne’s face. “Sigewinne Neuvilletta de Meropide! I would never think you so forward.”

Placing his hands around pretend pearls as if to clutch them he gawks at her. Relaxing he continues “But seriously, I have questions I think only you can help me with. So let’s finish this exam so I can have my dignity back.”

“Your Grace, if you are done making up full names for me, we can definitely move on with your exam.” The exam had been quick and perfunctory, all he had to go on were a few inquisitive hums and parsed out “Interesting”s Afterwards, Wriothesley insisted that they go back to his office, so he can ask these more pressing questions in privacy.

“Alright Sige, I’d like to know what's going on with me. Spill it all, please.” He taps his finger on his tea dish rapidly. Sigewinne smiles, helping alleviate his anxiety slightly. She looks over at him and pulls out her otter patterned notebook. Clicking her pen to write further observations.

“You have definitely acquired more muscle mass, Your Grace. That would account for your new found strength. Your elemental readings have altered as well. Hydro and Cryo variables now filter in and out of you.”

“The hydro element is quite strong and it elevates your cryo abilities. I think that would be worth experimenting with outside away from people. You may be able to do some real damage. You grew two centimeters. The last real change is that parts of you are adjusting to the bond you share with Monsieur Neuvillette. Your body is shifting to accommodate the needs of him as a partner.”

Pausing to let the information settle, Wriothesley presses a little more. “From what I’m gathering this shift in my body you are talking about is mostly a little height and increased elemental ability. Right?” Sigewinne smiles, putting her small hand over a much larger calloused one.

“I am sure you will find out all of the changes in due time, Your Grace. You are exceptionally healthy, other than your eyesight. We know why that is an affliction and you have a way to counteract it, even if access to it is limited.”

With a deep sigh Wriothesley runs his free hand through his disheveled hair. “Thank you for your professional assistance Winnie, we haven’t had much time to chat. I’ll make some tea and I think it's time we rectify that.”

Sigewinne smiles widely at him. “I would love that Your Grace.” She hums along to his gramophone as he warms the kettle and steeps the tea. He finds this scene familiar and domestic, the two of them like this.

Smiling fondly, Wriothesley sits next to Sigewinne placing the tea set on the table in front of them. Dropping two sugar cubes in the tea, Wriothesley leans back to sit comfortably on the couch sighing deeply.

“Winnie, I-” the gravity of what he needed to say laid heavily between them. He needs to find the right words, he owes her so much. An apology was chief among them.

He takes one of her tiny hands and envelopes it in his large scarred hands. “I have been a royal ass lately. You have always been there for me. I thought maybe you would be better off without my mistakes floating around you.”

Large round bright ruby eyes wait patiently. She knows him so well. Knows when he is going to talk, the less she talks the better. With that he finally breaks his hesitation.

“You were hurt anyway, you were targeted and hurt even after my own words. I was really struggling with some dark things that I didn’t want you tangled up in. I don’t have the words to say how sorry I am. You always deserved more than I gave you…. I - “ he sighs raking fingers through soft tufts of unruly black and gray hair. “Can I ask you something?”

Sigewinne nods, she still has not dropped eye contact. She listens actively, with intention, Wriothesley can always rely on her when conversations turn serious and he needs to unload his most guarded thoughts.
“I know you partially befriended me while scouting for Monsieur Neuvillette. He came clean to me. Your shakes were meant to make me more connected to him. Something like that anyway. But, why, Winnie? Why did you choose me?” He looks distraught waiting for her answer.

Sigewinne looks into questioning icy blue eyes. Leaning forward she places her other hand on his cheek. Her soft, maternal, kind touch nearly brings tears to his eyes.

“Your Grace, I wish you saw what an impressive larger grown up you have become. I knew how resourceful, smart, observant and brave you were from the very moment I met you.”

“Honestly Monsieur Neuvillette asked me to watch over you as soon as you were sentenced. He may have penned the letter immediately following your trial. I had it in my hands before you had finished your prisoner registration. You captured his attention on your own before I ever met you.”

She leans back, her smile widens laced with a little mischief. “Monsieur Neuvillette is an extremely good judge of character Your Grace. I have to say that what impressed him most is what motivates you.

I took notice that you set goals that benefit you, but not solely because they benefit you. You think about everything and everyone around you.” Proud prickles of tears crowd the corners of her eyes.

“Not the normal story behind a power grab. I think you compliment Monsieur Neuvillette’s vision perfectly. He saw something in you he very rarely sees.”

“Every single person sharing the Fortress with you fought to not be sentenced here. None of them pleaded guilty. You stood unafraid and resolved to take accountability. That character trait is exceedingly rare. You made no excuses.”

Smiling warmly she looks up into Wriothesley’s shocked expression. She pats his hand affectionately. “Of course he was taken with you, Your Grace. I knew he was right during our very first conversation. Do you remember, Your Grace?”

He nods. “I do.” He smiles, his face taking on a softer expression. “I didn’t say anything to you for a month. Until that big guy tried to deck you. He ended up decking me. I stayed on my feet just long enough to be a problem and he left. Good thing for me I was already in the infirmary. Came to just in time to tell you to stop the pain meds.”

Sigewinne giggles. “That’s right, You still won’t use any pain medication when you get hurt. It is remarkably stubborn. But that resolve first to put yourself in danger for my sake but secondly to demand to keep your wits about you. I knew that Monsieur Neuvillette was on the right track with you.” One more lingering thought circulates his mind.

His voice turns serious, he adjusts himself nervously in his seat. What he is questioning feels perilously close to sedition, but he needs to know. “Sige, I have one more question. It is a heavy question but I need to ask it.” she nods her red eyes self assured and her hands.

Both of them patted one large calloused hand. He continues. “Do you think Neuvillette is right? Do you think he is going about all of this the right way?

Sigewinne takes a moment collecting her thoughts. Red eyes brimming with compassion that scalds Wriothesley deeply in his core.

“Your Grace, I have known Monsieur Neuvillette a long time. He has seen so much pain. He has an enormous hole here.” Leaning forward she pats her tiny hand in the center of Wriothesley’s chest.

“Maybe it’s you who will fill it. I trust Monsieur Neuvillette completely. He is my family and I just want him to be happy. The truth is, it’s not my place to judge him or decide his course of action. Whatever choice he makes for Fontaine, I will stay by his side. I think you will too. That’s where we belong in all of this after all.”

Sipping the last dregs of the tea he had poured he sinks into thought. That was his place, to be at Neuvillette’s side. To help him carve out his vision. They would peel back the corruption together. They already were. “Thank you, Winnie. You always help keep me on the right path.”

Echoes hit off of the vaulted stage walls. Blinking lights on a clever device light up letting Neuvillette know who to expect. He stays hidden waiting hoping for clues on the Archon’s plans, or even if there were any plans. Furina’s embellished heels clack noisily as she dramatically climbs the stairs to the stage.

Uncharacteristic uncertainty clouds over her actions. She moves with hesitation towards the quiet judging structure of the Oratrice. Quiet sobs fill the empty spaces around him. “I can’t do this anymore.” her voice thick with grief, heavy with burden and heart ache. “Focalors, what is your end-game? Why must I persist in isolation and solitude? I am breaking apart!”

Engrossed in the raw emotion Furina does not see that her loyal bodyguard has stealthily entered the room. Neuvillette only knew to look for her because he saw her blip come into the room. His attention is snapped back to Furina’s fists pounding on the Oratrice.

“Why have you forsaken me? I’m not you! I’m not divine! Just a human in fancy clothes. You left me with no power. The flood is imminent. I have no plan, Focalors, everyone will die. They will all blame me. Where are you? I can’t do this anymore!”

Desperation flies from her throat. Tears blur her heterochromatic eyes. “Please, just help me!” She sounds so small, like a child placating to a parent.

“They know. Focalors, they know I am a fraud! I am so scared. Where are you? You said this was just for a little while. I have endured and endured. Everything hurts! Why won’t you answer me?”

Clorinde’s tall silhouette has made a deliberate, quiet approach to be as close to Furina as she dares. Tentatively she clears her throat. Pure terror colors Furina’s face.

“No, no, no I have made a grave mistake. Clorinde, how long were you here?” Her voice is strained with hysteria, her eyes wide. She rushes to push Clorinde away with erratic panicked movements. “You shouldn’t be here.” A frustrated scream bellows out of Furina, it encompasses suffering, frustration, and near madness.

“Lady Furina, whatever you are speaking of here is between you and the Oratrice. I heard enough, but it stays here within these walls.” Clorinde has not budged an inch. She is unmovable against the smaller woman’s erratic blows.

“You don’t understand.” Furina is beyond her limits. Her nerves were frazzled now, insanity seems to be closing fast. “I have doomed us all. Celestia’s wrath will have its vengeance and the blame will be my albatross. But it’s true Clorinde. Fontaine is doomed. Everyone will die and I will be at fault holding nothing but bones in my hands.”

Sobbing exhaustion takes a toll on Furina’s slight frame. She crumples into Clorinde’s arms. Awkwardly Clorinde draws her closer. Her rigid posture gives only enough to attempt comfort. As she tries to sooth her unconsolable Archon, Neuvillette slips unseen through the darked back passageways.

Safe within his office, his head spins with Furina’s confession. It was not enough that she lied. She has been masquerading for centuries. His position was some farce. He was a joke. Focalors truly saw him as a pawn.

He wasn’t an archon’s pet, he was an insane human girl’s pet. Anger swelled in his chest, he pushed it down, too soon. He needed his authority back. He was done with Archons and Celestia dictating his purpose and destiny. Soon he would rewrite his own stars.

Furina’s fragile sanity was easily tasted in the molecules of the air. Her grasp on reality was tenuous at best. She could become quite dangerous. He would need to keep very close tabs on her. Her eye for statecraft was lackadaisical and unfocused. She could make even more absurd laws that hamper his progress.

His chosen would understand, he would devise a clever plan. His ingenuity was exceptional. This information was too vital to send in a missive. He needed to get to his tower now. He needed to get more information. The situation had gone from tense to explosive.

Chapter Text

Expensive blue-soled boots click pacing steps along the expanse of Neuvillette’s tower bedroom. Details of Furina’s breakdown swirling in his head. Anger, loss, and humiliation these emotions sank like heavy oil to the base of his gut.

She had confirmed everything he had been thinking. She had no direction, no plan, wasn’t going to save Fontaine and had no real power. She has been wasting everyone’s time and energy and trying his patience.

While waiting for his Chosen one who was taking his sweet time coming to his tower, he felt like he would crawl out of his skin. So many emotions all at once flooded through his psyche.

It was nearly too much. To add to his growing discomfort, it had not escaped his mind that it had been some weeks since he had found time for intimacy with his gorgeous Chosen One.

Now anxious anticipation and desire swirled into the cacophony of emotional noise in his brain. His tether to sanity was being pulled tightly. Never had he experienced this level of emotions. Just as he feels his frazzled nerves begin to peel back, the sound of his inner lift whirls in the background.

His nearly snapped nerves receded, as a balm of calming chilled air preceded the formidable silhouette of the Warden. Black and grey tufts come into view as Neuvillette is able to breathe again. Relief floods his synapses as cool air fills his lungs. All tension melts away as his attention gravitates towards his Chosen.

With quick long strides Neuvillette meets Wriothesley as he steps off the lift. Picking the larger man up as if he is featherlight, he crushes him in an embrace. “I have missed you my Chosen One, you made me wait inexorably long.”

Brows furrow as Neuvillette attempts to swing his partner around in a circle, booted toes drag on the floor. Eyes blinking in confusion. “Have you grown Wriothesley?”

Deep laughter peels from Wriothesley as he pushes back to see his Sovereign’s confused pouting face. “According to Sigewinne, yes, I am taller. I don’t know if I will keep growing as you infuse me further with your ambrosial Ischus.” smiling wolfishly he continues.

“I wanted to come as soon as I got the letter. There was an explosion on the production floor. I had to make sure a couple of injured inmates were tended to and make the scene safe. I came the very second I could.”

Being this close to Neuvillette was difficult. He didn’t want to spend the evening just talking. He needed more closeness. He craved Neuvillette’s branding covetous touch. Molton desire burned in his icy blue irises. Losing his willpower to his mounting need he crushes his mouth into Neuvillette’s still pouting mouth.

A surprised sound escapes Neuvillette who responds with a fervid need of his own. Their kiss deepens. As Wriothesley clutches at white silken hair pushing them closer together. Need bleeds through every movement he makes.

As his Chosen gropes greedily at pliant curves, Neuvillette’s breath hitches as waves of dizzy pleasure assault his mind. Tethering to reach his initial thoughts, scorching touches banish all further thought. Wriothesley was invited by his reason, yet devious lust filled him. Tearing him in disparate fervor, ceasing any coherent thought.

“Fucking Archons above!” curses Wriothesley in a threaded hoarse voice. That word “Archon” breaks into Neuvillette’s consciousness. His brain crystalizes and he stills. Immediately Wriothesley notices the shift in demeanor. “Hey, are you ok?” Neuvillette shakes his head. He lifts a finger signaling he needs a moment.

Archons... That’s right, he needs to share with Wriothesley what he just learned. Can he tell him how full of confusing emotions he is? No on second thought, that is far too much of a burden. His sweet Chosen already shouldered so much. He would keep it to facts, his emotions and struggles were his personal burden.

Concerned icy blue eyes search Neuvillette’s face. He feels calloused hands lightly touch his cheek. Leaning into the touch Neuvillette closes his eyes, allowing his thoughts to collect and assemble into cohesion.

“Take your time, I can tell something is on your mind. I hope it's not me that is causing you this worried look.” Rubbing the little wrinkle in between his dragon’s eyes he chuckles nervously.

Neuvillette takes a deep breath offering what he hopes to be a reassuring smile. “My Dear Chosen, I am not upset with you. I am beyond pleased with you.” Reaching out he gently folds his hands over Wriothesley’s hand.

“My feelings are in turmoil due to things I have just learned. Your presence calms the churning emotions in my depths.”

Sharp teeth begin to worry over his bottom lip before he continues his thought. “How do you do that with such ease? Your lips had me forgetting myself completely, bringing calmness to my center.” Color tinges his cheeks as his confession spills from his mouth. “I crave your presence daily, if anything I have missed you dearly.”

Pausing his words, the worry returns to his eyes. With his mind still reeling from Furina’s confession he presses on. “Though now, I have something of great importance to tell you. Please sit with me.”

Understanding filters over Wriothesley, as they sit comfortably together. Neither willing to give up the comfort of touch. Neuvillette leans into Wriothesley’s shoulder, their hands interlocked. Though relaxed Wriothesley listens intently as Neuvillette’s dulcet tones convey how, what and who he overheard in the Opera earlier in the evening.

Darkness casts over Wriothesley’s eyes as punctuated anger rises in his core. “You mean to tell me that not only did she leave my trial early showing a complete lack of care for my non-dramatic testimony. But she herself has been deceiving all of Fontaine for centuries?”

Frustration pours off of him as he shoves scarred fingers through soft tufts of hair. “I have at least a dozen people at any given time in the fortress because they can’t pay the fine for breaking some stupid law about ketchup or names of pets. How much power can all that stupidity actually add to the Oratrice?”

Feeling gloved fingers ghost over his lips Wriothesley stills in the middle of his rant. Waves of calm energy lap over his nerves as he looks up into purple slitted eyes. “I know, my beloved, her betrayal to us all will not go unpunished. We cannot allow anger to cloud our goals."

”Calmingly he threads long gloved fingers through soft peppered tufts of hair. “You have every right to be upset about this. However, we must maintain our composure. We must act with logic and a plan rather than emotion."

Resting his cheek against his Sovereign’s offered hand he sighs heavily. “Yeah, I was just blindsided. I would have never thought that was a possibility. Of course you’re right. I gotta keep a level head. I can channel my frustration into your greater vision. How are things topside anyway?”

Neuvillettes lets out an exasperated huff. “Miss Caspar’s contingency continues to prove bothersome. I am nearly at my wits end. I feel they will soon tip my hand. They have left me little other choice than to remove them physically from the equation. My operatives are clever and adaptive; however their continued observation is hampering our progress.”

Wriothesley crowds into Neuvillette’s space kissing the hand holding his face. Slowly he looks up with mirth at his dragon. “Hey, I know we both have to stay focused. Every plan you’ve made up to now is working.”

Closing their gaps, Wriothesley leans into his Savior’s forehead. “We’ll do it together. Everything you need, every piece no matter the cost. You deserve it, Neuvillette.”

Pulling the back of his Sovereign’s head closer he kissed the corner of Neuvillette’s mouth. “My hands are already rough from toiling and they already have blood on them. I know you said you want to personally handle Navia’s men in black, but Neuv. I don’t want that guilt on your conscience.” Wriothesley takes a moment to place his hands on either side of his dragon’s face and tilt his head up so they are eye to eye.

“Look at me, I’m with you to the end of this, whatever it looks like. Whatever plans you make. I want to be a part of it.” Taking a pause he feels tendrils of silky hair wafting over his fingers. He plays at twirling strands of soft hair around his finger before continuing. “I realized a couple of things as I thought about my actions these last few months.”

Searching Wriothesley’s face with inquisitive eyes, Neuvillette interjects. “Is that so? I am keen to hear what insights you have gleaned. You're always surprising me, My Chosen.” Smirking, Wriothesley leans forward intensity radiating from his hollow gaze.

“Everyone of those men deserved your judgement.” Folding his Savior’s hand under his neck, he leans more into Neuvillette’s wrist gripping firmly with both hands.

“I can’t back down anymore. Seeing every one of those men speak and soil your reputation. I don’t think they deserved to live. ”Raking his calloused fingers over Neuvillette’s wrists he continues, while smoothing his beliefs into his Savior.

“I’ve already bathed in the blood of their dead bodies for you. There isn’t anything or anyone that will get in our way. I’m here for you. Every sin, I’ll bear that mantle for you.” Lowering his head to Neuvillette’s exposed wrist vein, he licks and nips lustily into his Savior’s wrist.

Pensive mauve eyes absorb Wriothesley’s devotion as Neuvillette softly smiles. “My beloved chosen. I - “ he pauses, collecting his thoughts, smoothing his hand over the stubble on Wriothesley’s cheek. “I am quite taken with your resolve.” Swallowing he is momentarily distracted by the strong jawline shading strong neck muscles. He takes a grounding breath and continues.

“I’m grateful that after laying all my motives on the table you have still chosen to back my position. But please, I need you to remember one thing, my sweet Chosen. My hands are no cleaner than yours. I’ve lived a long time, many of those years happened well before I was the Iudex.”

“You presume my hands are clean of misdeeds. Wriothesley, they are not. Many difficult choices have been made by my hands to move me closer to my goal.” His clawed hand firmly plants on the warden’s thigh, making a subtle claim.

Smiling, he pauses, pressing his other hand into a rough stubbled cheek directing his Chosen’s attention to himself. “I have come to experience something new with you. I trust you in a way that I did not think I was capable of. When I imagine the end of this endeavor you are by my side.”

“Your fervor is infectious. It inspires me to continue on in moments when things seem to be spiraling. This is all to say that I will not have you carrying the burden of these dark deeds alone.” Taking one of his chosen’s scarred hands Neuvillette kisses the back of it.

“You will not be taking all the risk alone on your head. Is it truly so difficult to believe that I have my own frustrations that need a vent. Please understand that I greatly admire your skill and ability. There is no question on your prowess. That is undeniable. You see, I think of you as my equal in many ways, which means the responsibility is shared.”

Quietly Wriothesley considers the words he is hearing. An incredibly powerful being wants him to be an equal to them. It's a very heady thing to consider. Already feeling new levels of strength, the benefits of a close allegiance to Neuvillette have already proven a boon.

“Neuvillette, you already carry the entire nation on your shoulders. Now we know the archon is false and you carry the burden of statecraft as well. I can’t very well have you plotting the revolution of Fontaine solely on your shoulders alone. Was I not meant to be a weapon?” Placing a sure hand under Neuvillette’s chin he levels his icy stare into glowing ethereal eyes. “Use me.”

Those mauve slitted eyes widened at Wriothesley’s declaration. Several beats of silence pass before Neuvillette responds. “I am not aware of any words that appropriately convey my thoughts of gratitude and awe of you my Chosen.”

Leaning into Wriothesly’s hand he sighs and continues, “Your support of me means more than I would have thought possible. I have grown quite a unique attachment to you. It pleasantly surprises me.”

Wriothesley waits patiently as the dragon pauses again organizing his thoughts. “With you by my side I have every confidence in success. When one finds themselves distracted during their work hours by another individual. I find myself craving your presence. This is torture is it not?”

Chuckling Wriothesley smooths out a stray wisp of silver hair. "Torture, more like you discovered how humans want. Every time the clock moves, there isn't a time when I don't feel the same. Paperwork, security routines, new intakes, all of these distractions exist but nothing can ever let me not think about you." Wriothesley places a hand behind his spine caressing it slowly easing his dragon’s senses.

He looks longingly at Neuvillette then continues. “Tell me, in all this time has anyone asked what you desired? Did you want all of this mantle of justice and is it really enough compensation for what was done against you? What’s hidden beneath that guise?" He added with a piercing stare deep into his heart. "Neuvillette, what do you truly want?"

Taken aback the dragon stutters a few half started utterances. Wriothesley’s proximity and words were mixing together into a heady brew that made formulating a response difficult. Taking a deep breath he grounds himself by touching his forehead to Wriothesley’s forehead and closing his eyes. After several grounding moments he responds in a voice so quiet Wriothesley has to lean closer to hear.

“No, I never wanted to be the Iudex, and I don’t wish to always be the Iudex. I miss the waters, Wriothesley. It has been centuries since I felt like my full self.” Parts of Wriothesley break anew.

His savior, his sweet dragon was being raw and vulnerable and open. He wished he could climb into his body and mend the wounds within him. Soothingly he continues to stroke long silver falls of hair. Hoping to alleviate the weariness he senses in his savior’s shoulders, neck and back.

“Whatever it takes, I will help you shed this position. I don’t know that I can say outright that I am a child of Fontaine. I am a child of exile, an outsider like you. Carving a new path with you for Fontaine feels important and you can have any role you want. Anything you want it’s yours. You deserve to be happy.” He stops and looks directly into Neuvillette’s impossibly perfect purple eyes. Tilting his head up gently he continues.

“I mean it, you deserve to feel well and truly content. So much was taken from you. This authority is part of your birthright. I don’t think you will fully feel yourself without it. Knowing our archon isn’t even an archon tells me we are Fontaine’s only hope. Furina’s plan is no plan. She knows nothing.”

Nuzzling into Wriothesley’s touch Neuvillette lets out the breath. “You have shown me a great deal and opened my eyes to possibilities I had not considered. Your ideas ignite new pathways of thought that excites me. My chosen, it can only ever be that I belong in your orbit as you belong in mine. Together, we will decide Fontaine’s destiny.”

Looking down into Wriothesley’s soft expression, glassy blind eyes stare up at him.”Please stay and linger with me tonight?”

Smiling widely, Wriothesley scooped the confused dragon up, lifting him into a bridal carry over to the enormously oversized bed. “You have me all night, all to yourself. I am in serious need of something only you can give me.”

“I am capable of getting myself over to the bed, my Chosen.” Wiggling, attempting to gain purchase against Wriothesley’s strong grip, he looks a little cross up at a very smug Wriothesley.

“Sure, I know that. I wanted to show you how much I want you. I’m starving.” Growling that last word he reaches the bed surging into Neuvillette’s parted mouth stopping whatever retort was about to leave it.

Their tongues entangle tasting one another drinking each other in. Sinking deeply into Neuvillette’s strong arms, relief floods over Wriothesley. He had been near mad with need to be close to his Savior. Finally, he had the closeness that had saturated his thoughts in a constant loop.

Pressing into a heated embrace he leans down over his dragon. The bed cushions their tumble together. Heedless of anything other than each other. All thoughts flow together into a single pulsing needy desire. Becoming nothing more than a slave to need and drive, Wriothesley paws clumsily at Neuvillette’s clothing.

Deep seated craving surges through Wriothesley, it crushes through his body orchestrating his actions. He pulls the pristine clean white shirt ripping the finely made fabric. Entranced with a singular need to satiate his need, he quickly alleviates himself and his waiting dragon of all their clothing. Feral need threw inhibition and caution to the wayside. His Savior had kept him waiting too long.

Through visceral compulsion his hands roam soft sporadically scaled skin. Dusting over the landscape of sculpted muscles up to well formed sinewy pectorals. Finding the fount of his sight’s salvation he massages into sensitive reactive flesh.

Longing desperation crests deep within him. Though he is loath to break their kiss, the surging need to drink in the sweet nectar of his Savior dictates his actions. A string of saliva tethers them as Wriothesley pulls back to reposition himself.

Dipping down towards Neuvillette’s pointed ears, he utters in a husky tone. “I don’t think I can keep this hunger back my Savior… Your scent is maddening. My mouth waters just thinking of your taste.” Groaning deeply from the disconnect of their mouths Neuvillette guides eager lips to his waiting nipple.

Entrenched in a sea of sensations, his mind only knows it craves this closeness. Biting down on his Savior’s nipples feeling delicious nectar flood his throat, it was not his returning eyesight preoccupying his thoughts. It is the steady perfection of Neuvillette’s countenance.

Continual craving for the intimacy of their closeness, and overwhelmed with the exuberance of being claimed. These are the thoughts that cloud his judgement. With this simple act of being fed, Wriothesley feels cherished, like a precious thing.

Adrift in these thoughts Wriothesley nearly forgets to test his newly regained sight. Each time he gazes at his Savior it feels like the first time. Each iteration of Neuvillette’s visage captivates him whole. A blue hued glow surrounds them, a phenomenon that made each interaction feel dreamlike to Wriothesley. This was all real though, his reality. There before him was his Savior, gorgeous, fierce, and all for him.

Staring back into icy, focused eyes, relief sighs out of Neuvillette. Conflicting sensations of comfort and arousal flood his synapsis. Neuvillette reaffirms that Wriothesley is his. Completely molded into the perfect partner and weapon in all the obstacles they have yet to face.

Phasing through the sensations of Wriothesley’s voracious consumption of Ischus awakens deeply locked draconic instincts towards possessiveness. Roughly, he claws into fluffy salt and peppered colored hair. Deep instincts to claim this man surfaced clashing into the forefront of his mind. His chosen, he rakes possessively down large sculpted shoulders.

This perfectly created man had willfully come back to him. Allied with him and agreed with him. As Wriothesley took his fill, a pulsing overwhelming need to own the man in front of him took hold of his mind. A deep growl echoed off the walls, swift movements rolled Wriothesley on his back with Neuvillette successfully pinning him under his weight.

Nearly undone from the sheer desire to have Wriothesley under him he plunges back into a heated kiss. Licking a long forked tongue over teeth and tongue. “You are mine, Wriothesley. I will make that claim tonight. You invade my everyday thoughts like a drug.” Dazed, Wriothesley looks into purple eyes laced with possessive desire. Pressure builds against his larynx and windpipe as strong clawed hands press down his ability to take in air closing off quickly.

“You drive me to near madness, my Chosen. I want you more and more. Part of me adores how well you do my hearts desire. Even now you wish to move for my pleasure. You trust that I will allow you air again.” Noting Wriothesley’s growing tented trousers and widely dilating eyes, Neuvillette narrows his eyes.

Drunk on the power he has over his willing obedient perfect Chosen. Waiting a few beats he releases his grip on Wriothesley’s neck. Rubbing soothing strokes along that strong neck, he pushes his hips hard into Wriothesley’s growing erection.

“Shit, that was -” writhing under Neuvillette’s firm demanding touch Wriothesley struggles for words. “Nnngggh - s-so fucking good.” Looking into filled blue eyes, Neuvillette pins Wriothesley’s hands above his head. Biting into Wriothesley’s earlobe he swirls a forked tongue to quell the sting.

In a low commanding tone he speaks directly into the sensitive ear. “Stay put, my Chosen. If you move, I might stop. Can you do that? Be good for me?” Neuvillette feels Wriothesley’s body push up into him eager for leverage for more sensation. Craving him, wanting to devour him whole and being forced to take only what Neuvillette gives him. It is a delicious give and take.

“Yeah, yes. I… nnn huh. I can be good.” Flashing the hint of a sly grin, Neuvillette shifts his weight, sliding down Wriothesley’s prone form. He notes how tense his partner is anticipating his touch. Strung tight, desperate for his touch, he gives a brief reprieve providing the sharp sensation of his claws over strong well formed pectoral muscles.

Sharp fanged teeth bite into Wriothesley’s hip. Pin pricks of crimson pool from the wound as Neuvillette laps the metallic taste. Symphonies of stuttered hissed utterances clamour into Neuvillette’s ears. “Mine you are all mine. I want everyone to know you are taken.”

Craven need floods through Neuvillette’s veins. An all consuming desire to devour everything about the man before him commandeers his actions.

In a fugue state delirious with lust he rips the trousers keeping his Chosen’s body hidden from him. Where they fall is forgotten immediately. All thoughts are singularly focused on taking full advantage of the exquisite exhibition of skin before him.

With a strong grip he grabs thickly muscled thighs spreading them wide opening Wriothesley fully for inspection. Conjuring hydro he forms two thick tentacles of hydro, condensed and attenuated to his will. Looking up he catches Wriothesley’s icy blue eyes widened with understanding.

His Chosen had gained prodigious strength, exceptional speed, fortitude, had seemed to grow in mass which seemed to include his cock smiling ruefully Neuvillette looked up at his startled Chosen. “You have been keeping things from me. Was this your intention to have me peel away your clothes to find this surprise for me?”

Wriothesley tracks the dragon’s eyes to his cock and groans in understanding Sigewinne’s cryptic message during their earlier chat. Quickly recovering he replies. “I have been so busy I hadn’t noticed. I hope it will please you all the better. You like it?”

Dark desire pools in the dragon’s eyes as he continues to study Wriothesley’s growing hard cock. “I am exceptionally happy with you, my Chosen. I am more impressed with you each day. Now, to continue, I want to trust you to be still for me. But, my dear Chosen, I don’t think you can.” At that moment, the manifested tentacles move with alacrity. Under Neuvillette’s ministrations they form strong restraints around his wrists

Heat pools within Neuvillette’s core as he takes the full vision of his Chosen straining against his well crafted restraints. Satisfied that the impromptu hydro restraints will hold he returns his attention to how vulnerably his Chosen is displayed openly in front of him.

One clawed finger freshly slick with generously applied hydro teases along the crease between Wriothesley’s inner thigh and most sensitive areas. Whispered touches tease across Wriothesley’s aching cock. Gently massaging the delicate, sensitive skin on Wriothesley’s exposed perineum elicited a surprised hissed response.

With a glint of mirth Neuvillette’s attention focuses on teasing around Wriothesley’s inviting entrance. Agonizingly slowly he presses a questing finger into Wriothesley’s waiting hole. Neuvillette does not increase his speed. He watches carefully as his probing finger massages its targeted bundle of nerves each time.

Pleasure coils in burning ropes within Wriothesley’s core. Neuvillette’s caressing teasing touches are so good, but he wants more. He wants all of his Sovereign, “More...More! Please!” he begs. Wriothesley arches his back trying desperately to have more friction, more sensation, more of anything he can get.

With his sight back he is treated with a knowing sly rare grin from his Savior. “Oh…OOh fuck!!” This is intended to drive Wriothesley mad with need. His Savior intends to tease and taunt him. Bringing him slowly to the edge of release agonizingly slowly. With slow intentional movements Neuvillette begins to massage Wriothesley’s prostate.

The pleasure is low and rolling, sitting in a frustrating place of feeling good, but not nearly enough. A steel strong arm keeps him from bucking up into those slow indulgent fingers. He can only take what Neuvillette offers. Each thrust delivers a thrill ever slowly building on the existing pleasure.

Showing no sign of urgency Neuvillette continues his punishing game of tormenting Wriothesley with slow rhythmic pulses only just adding a finger stretching him just a little adding a sweet stretch. Attempting to arch his back he is met with resistance from that same impassive arm. Unable to gain any purchase he pants and strains against his restraints.

“Shit, ungh” panting heavily he continues. “Do you need me to beg?” Gritting his teeth he keeps his futile attempt to gain purchase any way he can think. There is constant pleasure but it’s not enough. He wants more. Looking up into Neuvillette’s eyes there is a glint of mischievous intent. He fully intends to keep Wriothesley in denial.

The hydro restraints effectively keep him from reaching out. Desperately, he wants to feel his Savior’s cool, smooth skin. Press his aching cock up against those beautiful muscled abdominal planes. He wants to force those questing steady fingers deeper inside him with the needy urgency building in his gut.

Waves of sensation buildup in small attenuated crescendos flooding his synapsis with steady pulses. The only adjustment being a slight change in stretch as another finger is added. Deep craven desire builds, snapping his mind. Forged through the heat of their connection his will to be free from restraints transmuted into raw strength.

At once he found himself unburdened from the well crafted hydro restraints. Swept over by tremendous currents of desire Wriothesley surges forward grabbing an astonished dragon's face pulling him into a fierce kiss. Pressure builds on each other's mouths, as he presses a lashing tongue searching to consume.

Acting on that lust, he exposes his savior with lucid touches. Pricking and sliding each calloused finger down his Saviors back. Moaning notes breathed into his mouth as Neuvillette arched his back in reply.

Delving deeper into a lustful haze he links in harmonious cries with his savior, his need peaked as he bit down his dragon’s lip. Red blemishes aroused his senses as blood dripped down his Savior's chin.

Roughly in a single motion, he flips Neuvillette onto his back. Glistening desperation glazed over his lust crazed eyes. He plants both his hands on his Savior’s upper hip feeling each plump muscle.

Bracing his teeth below Neuvillette’s navel, he glides his canines upwards. Markings embed into soft pliant skin with each grazing nip. Low cascading moans bellowed from his dragon as he continued to nip crimson rivulets of claiming bites over the wavey planes of Neuvillette’s abdomen.

Temptation takes a hold, he shifts his mouth over the other unbitten nipple. Dipping down he pierces his teeth into the vein of ambrosia once again. With each heady drag amplifying his need he pushes his weight into his Savior. Blue claws bind a vice around his biceps betraying Neuvillette’s equal demand.

Keeping his natural instinct at bay, Wriothesley caresses his tongue over pooling decadent marks instead. Smiling deviously he steeps three fingers into his Savior’s soaking slit. Driven with powerful need he forcefully pushes his fingers at a brutal pace expanding his dragon’s pleasure. Thrilling vibrations run down his spine hearing exquisite vulgarity fall from his Savior’s throat.

All thoughts ceased in his mind, as he felt the sweet eclipsing pleasure of his dragon. Working in tandem, every pressed finger he brought carved out a permanent place for himself inside the object of his greatest desire. Dulcet tones moaned in staccato notes, as he overflowed afresh pulsations into Neuvillette. Pressure built in his cock, burdened with the full weight of overwhelming need.

Leaning down over his writhing Savior he licks up Neuvillette’s long graceful neck. Blue ambient light catches his eye as a gently glowing rhinophore twitches in tandem with Neuvillette’s writhing body. Intrigued and curious, Wriothesley’s free hand wraps gently around the rhinophore, testing the texture and reaction.

Neuvillette whines in a decadently sinful voice, as rough hands touch his rhinophores. In a hoarse whisper he replies. “Please, my…hhhnnnggg,.. rhinophores are very ... .huh ... sensitive.”

Devious thoughts creep into Wriothesley’s mind. “Oh? These are your rhinophores? You certainly wouldn’t want me to….” Immediately he licks down the length of the rhinophore.

The response from his dragon is intense and immediate. Neuvillette’s eyes spring open, his body lurching at the overload of sensation pushing himself deeper on Wriothesley’s probing fingers. As his body nearly jumps off the bed Wriothesley knows deliciously sensitive rhinophores are a treasure of debauchery for him to toy with.

Watching his beloved Savior lose himself completely short circuited on pleasure is a sight he will loop eternally. Writhing and quivering sweet words tumble from his dragon’s mouth. “P-Please my Chosen, I-I can’t think when you do that. My rhinophores are p-pure sensory organs.” Gasping Neuvillette tries to convey his desperate oversensitivity through panting breaths.

“You don’t say, my Sweet Savior.” Deceptively sweetly he strokes a hand through silky silver hair. Staring with intense focus he waits still pumping his fingers fully cresting his gorgeous dragon towards a release. Suddenly he pulls his fingers out leaving his Savior coasting just shy of that promised release.

With a resonant growl Neuvillette snarls in frustration. ”You stopped…I was nearly- ” snapping off the end of his statement he flashes a dark heated look at his Chosen. Wriothesley counters with a slight growl tinged with a slice of cruelty. “You leave me for weeks my Savior. Craving you, needing you,”

An inspired sinful idea comes to mind as he skates Neuvillette’s legs wide, frost tips his fingers responding to his will manifest rigid cryo-infused braces clamped over plump decadent thighs bolting his Savior down into the bed frame’s silky plushness.

Gliding his hands on the brace he licks from his thigh guiding towards Neuvillette’s graceful ethereal neckline. Each trail leaves liquid marks, as his tongue snakes closer to those sinful curved ears.

Curling his tongue around the delicate shell, he continues his dangerous tease and laps the canals. While mouthing down the sensitive tips. His savior whines as each touch of tongue pulls him further into a frenzied lust.

After feasting on his ears, he pins Neuvillette’s wrist down then viciously bites into his Savior’s prone neck. Slowly sinking in his pleasure he reinforces even more braces by forcing more of his strength against his dragon. Pinning both wrists down Wriothesley bites down into Neuvillette’s prone freely given neck, simultaneously replacing his strong grip with another pair of cryo-infused braces.

Lapping up the trail of crimson from the puncture wound he just created he laughs darkly. “Look at you.” Licking his lips with anticipation, his icy blue lust-filled eyes take in Neuvillette’s straining, restrained lithe body.

The hydro dragon laid prone at his will. His savior wanted him in this most intimate way. This drug would never grow old. Feral urges to claim and consume crash into his psyche. “You are mine now. I want all of you. I want to watch you lose yourself on my cock. Fall to pieces because I am the best you ever had.”

Kissing his Savior deeply, he takes his time raking his nails down the planes of Neuvillette’s surprisingly muscled chest. Muscle shapes are not as defined or large as Wriothesley’s own pectorals but radiating strength and power of their own. Reveling in the groaning response his dragon emits he is emboldened to continue his pursuit of pleasure.

Teasing dangerously along Neuvillette’s femoral artery skating sharp teeth gloss over soft plump skin. Overcome with a desire to feel ample flesh between his saliva slickened incisors he bites down into his Savior’s sinfully luscious thigh. Unbothered by the surprised gasp and loud moan, Wriothesley plunges a hungry tongue into Neuvillette’s well stretched hole.

Wave after wave of contrasting sensations coast over Neuvillette’s consciousness. His Chosen has him completely strung out his own desire. From the sharp biting sweet throbbing on his thigh to the warm languid soft ministrations on his most intimate core he is dancing closely to jumping out of his skin, unlocking his draconic instincts fully.

Instincts to claim, mark, and own Wriothesley thoroughly scream through his veins. Struggling against the restraints grunting with frustration topped with cadences of pleasure. Impressive strength had surprised him onto his back.

Feeling his own strength surge into his muscles, draconic nature short circuited his better judgement. In a daze of carnal need the cryo cuffs crumble as if they had been made of sugar glass.

With swift alacrity and strength he pins his shocked Chosen reasserting his control. “Mine. My Chosen…” Words fade into deep growls as firm hands grasp Wriothesley’s shoulders, all of the dragon’’s weight pressed down on his core. Driven by instinctual compulsion Neuvillette roughly grasps his Chosen’s hard, weeping cock guiding it into himself.

Taking control of its entry he takes the entirety of Wriothesley’s cock into himself as he sits back straddling bare muscled hips. The stretch, burn, length and full sensation rush too fast, too full. With widened eyes full, smug and pleased.

“My Chosen, perfection, you are mine. Made for me.” Again his words drift off into deep guttural utterances as Neuvillette begins riding Wriothesley’s larger endowment. Lost in the pure ecstasy of electric currents ribboning through his core, he takes his pleasure voraciously.

Consumed in the depth of his desideratum Neuvillette feels baptized anew reaffirmed in his purpose and direction. His Chosen eager to service his needs, truly perfection. His orgasm catches him by surprise, bellowing out his climax in unshaped words of release. He spills tides of milky seed across Wriothesley’s sculpted abdomen.

Undone through the orgasm racking through Neuvillette’s body. Wriothesley comes hard, unable to hold back after his Savior’s reversal and show of dominance and strength. Undone by Neuvillette’s confidence and ethereal self appeasement his body shudders through his climax thinking of nothing but Neuvillette.

Riding high on the crest of sharp heady pleasure Neuvillette sways, allowing the sweet pulsing waves of decadent sensations to flow through him. Gazing down he sees his rumpled, thoroughly satisfied Chosen. Glistening with the afterglow of orgasmic bliss. Stunning, confident, and decorated with his bite marks. That eased a deep instinct within him.

Nuzzling into Wriothesley’s neck in a mirthful deep voice he speaks playfully, “I find certain changes in you make you even more enticing to me, my Chosen.” He grinds his hips to emphasize his point. Wincing from overstimulation Wriothesley chuckles.

“I really hadn’t noticed, you my dragon are the only being that gets to experience that particular ride….” Smiling ruefully to himself he shakes his head. “That little menace, Sigewinne mentioned my body was changing to suit the needs of my dragon partner.” gesturing down to his groin. “This must have been what she meant. That’s why she had a shit eating grin on her face.”

Shaking fluffy salt and peppered hair he sits up adjusting Neuvillette to slide off of him and cradle into his arms. Neuvillette settles his arms possessively around Wriothesley. “My daughters are all very clever. Sigewinne is among the brightest.” smiling fondly he runs fingers through soft tufts of hair.

“She has taken quite a liking to you. Quite cheeky of her to speak to you regarding such intimate matters.” He shakes his head chuckling.

“You have no idea, she has no shame if it is under her medical knowledge to give advice over” he smiles, taking note of how even after sex disheveled and rumpled his Savior is gorgeous. “I am honestly just happy to be even more capable of making you feel good.”

He smiles feeling his arms and legs grow heavy with exhaustion. Their connection was always so heated and physical it seemed to completely drain Wriothesley the moment he finished.

He closes his eyes for just a moment, hearing his Savior’s sweet voice humming something familiar. Ah.. yes their dance, smiling softly waves of exhaustion undermine his consciousness taking him swiftly into a deep well earned sleep.

Over the following two weeks preparations for the festival consumed most of Neuvillette’s attention. Along with his regular duties he was making sure that this festival came together. Under his keen eye no details would be overlooked. Of course, it did not escape the attention of the Lady Archon which also benefited Neuvillette. He wanted to keep her as close to him as possible..

Every decision he makes takes him closer to his goal. Even seemingly mundane decisions about decorations serve to that end. Soothing nerves, reassuring all the citizens, raising morale, and shifting focus, all worked in his favor.

Every chess piece was falling into place just as he needed them to. Through every moment of his day though, mental tethers to his Chosen keep the man firmly in his thoughts. No matter how many distractions of work, agendas, meetings, or documents he has to juggle his anchoring thought is Wriothesley.

This evening was a reception for some prominent visitors from across Teyvat. He had mingled through the room, stand out guests were a well statured young man with unusual pale blue hair and his good natured retainer.

Enthusiasm and warmth emanated from the young blond man reminding him of his own Chosen. Loyal, always happy to be of service, easy with a smile. The well dressed Inazuman noble had some initiatives for trade that Neuvillette half listened to knowing this was a preliminary inquiry and likely to change with several iterations.

With a well practiced subtle bow the enigmatic youth’s voice rings with mirth. “Monsieur Neuvillette, you have been an excellent host. Our reception has been nothing short of extravagant. A warm welcome full of promise indeed.” Taking a demure sip of wine he presses gently on the back of his handsome retainer who smiles with flecks of sunshine that Neuvillette finds infectious.

“It’s as Master Kamisato says, I’ve felt most welcome in every corner we have explored. Truly your lands are a jewel within Teyvat as a whole.” There is warmth, and reverence in the retainer towards his master. He smiles at himself as their dynamic plays out. The loyal pup of a retainer introduces himself as “just Thoma” which radiates the same unabashed humility a certain Duke inhabits.

“I look forward to hearing your thoughts regarding my proposal towards our country's potential cooperation.” Erudite words swing the conversation and Neuvillette’s attention back to statecraft, though the thoughts of his beloved Chosen pulse dimly in the background, a constant soothing anchor.

“I read through your proposal and found it thorough, insightful, well researched towards mutual cooperation. You have a keen mind and your eagerness to see follow up on this endeavor is clear. Save your show of modesty, I know good work when I see it.”

Smiling enigmatically, the youth chuckled. “I see, Monsieur Neuvillette, in that case tell me what is your decision then?” Intelligent, smirking blue ringed eyes challenge Neuvillette to answer him. Taking a beat to think he hums deeply in thought. It’s moderately refreshing to have such direct communication.

The coded parlance of the nobility was often a headache to untangle. He found he preferred the straight pointed intention of this youth. He also quite enjoyed the dynamic he shared with his retainer.

“If you are asking my opinion. I am pleased with the proposal and feel it’s sound with much potential. I am not the only one making decisions in Fontaine. We are not a dictatorship.” Placing his hands out to his side in a placating gesture he knows his eyes land again momentarily on Thoma. Shades of softness color his thoughts as he is reminded of his Chosen. There is a resonance in how the attentive retainer anticipates his masters every need.

“I am unsure what customs are in Fontaine, in Inazuma one tries not to stare too much. Monsieur Neuvillette.” Straightening his robe Neuvillette coughs covering his mouth and straightening his posture. “My apologies Mr.Kamisato, your retainer reminds me of someone. I must have been in my thoughts.”

A mirthful light chuckle interrupts him as the youth intercedes. “I am pleased that we have made a good impression on you Monsieur Neuvillette. I will write up a formal proposal and deliver it to the Palais Mermonia within this week.”

“I look forward to looking it over when it arrives on my desk.” Crystalline giggling breaks through their conversation. Furina sweeps in curseying deeply. “Monsieur Neuvillette, I am not used to you taking such initiative at our foreign receptions.”

She turns with a flourish towards Ayato and Thoma flashing a wide smile and sparkling heterochromatic eyes. “I trust my Iudex has treated you well gentlemen. I, Lady Furina, must take him away from your company. My sincerest apologies.”

“Not a problem. We had just finished the most important piece of our business. Thoma and I will mingle at our leisure. Pleasure to meet you, Lady Furina.” with a confident smile and another light touch on the arm of his retainer the refined young man and his blond, warm servant disappear into the crowd.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, what has gotten into you. Seriously, you have approved all decorations, you watched over the set up, you made sure the budget was balanced and procured all the vendors as well as oversaw the catering.” Dramatically she gesticulates each action on the imaginary list in front oher.

Narrowing her pretty heterochromatic eyes she watches the Iudex carefully. “I don’t think there is a single corner of this festival that you haven’t had your fingers on. You never even asked when a festival was before, let alone plan it.” Furina’s stance has shifted to express her incredulity.

“Lady Furina.” Neuvillette pauses and fixes his expression to earnestness. “I realize that your shoulders carry many burdens. I have been complacent in letting you take the lead. This festival is important. With Fontaine’s citizens questioning my dedication to this land.” His graceful arms reach out in supplication to the archon as he performs the ghost of a bow.

“I hope this gesture of good faith can be a physical reminder to them all. Not for my sake. But for their faith in you and this whole country. Furina, please remember I am here to help you.” Furina's eyes convulse slightly as her mouth shapes into a wave. Upon realizing she is gaping her mouth like a fish, she closes it with a snap. “Monsieur Neuvillette, I don’t know what to say.”

With full advantage of catching his Archon off guard, Neuvillette presses on. “I am here to serve you, Lady Furina. You should lean on me when needed.” Pausing his words he favors Furina with a rare soft smile. He knows he has played his cards well.

“I have been by your side all this time. Trusting my voice to speak for the Oratrice and carry forth your Justice. Have I truly left you in such a state that you find that hard to believe?” Affixing his isolating lavender gaze on her she swallows and straightens into a familiar confident silhouette.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, of course I see how dedicated you have been over the years. What a ridiculous thing to say. I have obviously observed you with the all seeing scrutiny of an Archon. I know how seriously you take your role. Why would I ever doubt that?” Having regained her confidence her demeanor shifts exuding haughty superiority.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, you have never been one for these social events. I think it’s fair for me to scrutinize your motivations.” Stepping forward she searches the Iudex for any sign of trepidation or uncertainty.

“My motivations are purely to assist you, Lady Furina.” Shifting he leans on his cane. The day's events began to manifest in a painful ache down his leg.

Thankfully missing the small wince he gave Furina continues. “Have you come to see my point of view on their importance? You have a view of everyone in a far more relaxed environment. Not the courtroom or your office but here watching people laugh and enjoy the fruits of their labor.” Turning to look at Neuvillette, he is listening actively, taking in her words. He softens his expression just a little.

“I can see the draw for you Lady Furina. I do hope that you enjoy relaxing and enjoying what I put together for you. Remember to lean on me, that is what I am here for.” He pats her arm signaling her that she can continue to mingle and take back the spotlight she favors.

Watching from the wings always a few paces away was Clorinde. She watched her Lady’s exchange with the Iudex and caught most of the dialogue. The Iudex was very rarely this soft with Furina. She had seen him exasperated more often than not. It was at the very least a curiosity.

It did not escape her that the judge had taken a key role in putting the festival together. This did not itself paint suspicion. What was suspicious was that this was a distinct change in behavior.

Could he truly want to bear some of Furina’s load? It was a possibility, she would put it in her mental notebook. Watching the Iudex gracefully mingle with the Sumeru contingency she knew there was something floating just outside her understanding.

She was used to Furina soaking the attention of a room. In her capacity as a bodyguard, she had seen Monsieur Neuvillette at countless events. He stood in the corner and had minimal engagement keeping discussions surface level.

Never before had she seen him gesturing and as animated as he was speaking to a tall man with shoulders that may rival the Duke. It was odd though, she realized that it may all be for the sake of initial impressions, but she wasn’t ready to write her own intuition off that quickly. Once she triangulated with Chevreuse and Charlotte she would know if this was worth mentioning or not.

Suddenly unmoored from her thoughts she senses a shift in the energy behind her. Before the approaching person can surprise her she spins hand upon her gun, ready. More surprising than an adversary is who she sees. Bountiful blond curls frame the demure, expressive face of Navia Caspar. Flustered, she gives a curt perfunctory bow. “Lady Caspar.”

“Please Clorinde, we are old friends, are we not?” Placing a delicate hand on her ornately decorated parasol she gestures around the room. “In this sea of strangers it is nice to see a familiar face.” She follows the eyeline of where Clorinde had been focusing her attention.

“I see that you are also curious about our Iudex. I have yet to ever see him this engaged at an event. It must be of some importance that this festival goes well.” Navia sips her drink, piercing her bright blue eyes into Clorinde’s deep violet exacting eyes.

“Even if I knew the inner thoughts of the Iudex I would not be privy to share them. But I noticed his commitment to this festival is much different. Perhaps this is the face he presents to foreign dignitaries” Crossing her arms she notices Navia’s two point men shifting behind her. “What do you two think, is there anything to it?”

The older of the two offers a warm smile before responding. “Silver and I have been watching the Iudex for some time. In my observations he engages minimally with the public. At his breakfast and lunch the vendors just smile and bring him his regular and he might nod while he pays. He might give a greeting. No small talk.”

Melus interjects.”This man we are watching right now, is not the same man we watched for the last couple of months. I know this guy knows more about all the crazy sh-” He looks up catching Navia’s blistering warning glare.

Catching himself and looking appropriately chagrin he continues. “Stuff. All the crazy stuff that is happening. Like those two guys that just disappeared. They were money you know? Those guys normally have resources and would be found by now if they were alive.”

“Agreed.” Navia smiles at Clorinde. “Thank you for the chat. I think we can possibly help each other in the future. I do owe you a proper apology and sit down at a better time and venue.” Navia curtsies and offers a warm smile to Clorinde.

Feeling heat tint her cheeks Clorinde clears her throat “I would like that very much. You know where to find me.” She watches Navia walk away until he merges with the crowd. Thoughts of what all of this means for the future of Fontaine swirl in her head as she continues to focus on her duty.

Time tediously ticked away. It had been two weeks since Charlotte caught Clorinde’s eye at the reception. Nervously Charlotte checked the directions twice more. Clorinde had assured her that this spot was safe and out of the way.

They could discuss all of their thoughts without possible eavesdroppers. Coming down the grassy embankment she saw a table and chairs setup beach side. A tent with refreshments and additional shelves and books. She sat at the table sighing as she collected her thoughts.

Most recently the murder of a noble man who lived in the Vasari Quarter on Rochechouart Way was all that was on her mind. There was information dribbling out and she was hoping Chevreuse and Clorinde would offer more clarity.

Sounds of approaching footsteps shake her from her deep thoughts. She looks up to see the other two women approaching her. Comfortably quiet, they take their own seats. “Ok, good you are here and I have questions.”

Chevreuse’s one eye shows dark circles from far too little sleep. Letting out an exhausted sigh she drops her arms down on the table. “It’s not great news. What I know is that my vice-Captain has been implicated and arrested for the murder.”

“Which means I am working double shifts, at a minimum.” Rubbing her eyes she pulls out a bucket of fresh french fries and starts eating them as she thinks. She pulls out a small notebook looking it over.

“Here is what I have. The suspect is in custody. Name is Nevreaux, was my peer and never so much as stepped out of line. Excellent health, no complaints against him, model employee. His name though. See the note refers to someone with an N initial. It would be folly to not consider we have this “N” in custody.” She folds her notebook up and continues to stress eat her fries.

Clicking her tongue Clorinde continues the string of thought “Chevreuse what evidence led them to your vice-captain. I can’t imagine he would have intentionally been sloppy. He knows how investigations are conducted.”

Chevreuse sighs again “That’s the really weird part Clorinde, the way he was behaving, it was very odd. I personally saw him return to the office. He was out of it, just a blank face, he said he hadn’t left the office.” Shifting in her chair she rubs her chin while thinking.

“He won’t confess to the crime. But his firearm was tested and recently used. I mean he still had blood on his uniform. And this time there is a dead body left to examine.” She shakes her head looking as if she had more to say but sighed deeply instead.

Clorinde begins to fidget her gloved index finger twirling a strand of hair. “Look, there are a lot of pieces missing. But, what we can get out of this is that ‘N’ is not Nevreaux. We can deduce he most likely shot the man, but. She sighs tapping the table.

“I don’t think he has anything to do with the recent chain of disappearances.” Tipping her hat, she slides it off her head revealing deep violet strands. Frustration floods her features as her frown deepens. ”It could be nothing but I do have one more thing to add.”

Charlotte clicked her pen rapidly as Clorinde details her run down on Neuvillette. Fast shorthand cascades on the page catching as much information as possible. Her pen stills after detailing the change in the Iudex’s behavior. “Like I said, not anything by itself but it might tilt the scales in a direction at some point”

Charlotte stands and starts to pace.“I want to go over everything we know so far if that’s ok.” Receiving two thoughtful nods she continues on. “Ok, we know there to be a well networked smuggling operation of sinthe headed by someone high up in Fontaine’s power structure.”

Looking down she hums starting to count her points on fingers. “We know two people have disappeared who don’t seem to have any connections between them.” She worries at her bottom lip with her teeth as she thinks.

“We know a high ranking member of the Maison Gardiennage murdered a man in the middle of the day. He is still in denial of having anything to do with it.” She closes her eyes letting the pieces coalesce in her mind.

“Lastly we have Clorinde’s anecdote of the Iudex acting out of character and Chevreuse having a gut feeling.” shaking her head in frustration she gestures as if putting together a puzzle. “It feels like it should add up to something but there is nothing to really string these together. I don’t know this Nevreaux person, Chevreuse can you give us your honest opinion?”

Sighing darkly rubbing her temples she fixes her ruby-colored solitary eye on Charlotte. “I know him as well as all my other co-workers. As I said he has been an exemplary employee. I had more letters of reprimand in my file than he did.”

Fixing her uniform as she stands she continues. “He has always held the office with dignity. It makes no sense to me. It just seems completely out of character. Could he have had a double life?”

“Possibly. We are looking into it. Looking into all angles but, as of right now. Maybe his pristine record was the perfect mask to hide behind.” Crunching tense bites take two additional fries into her mouth.

With their discussions coming to a close, these events left the group exhausted. Even in such festive spirits, the weight of this mystery did nothing to lift them. As they sat in comfortable silence, their minds digested everything on the table.

Amidst their distracted thoughts, behind their perception was a melusine behind their tent. Listening intently, her keen senses took note of their whole conversation. Slipping away, she would be sure that her Sovereign father heard every word.

Under a gorgeous sunny sky Wriothesley finds a rare quiet moment to sip a specialty tea he picked up at the cafe. Festivities reigned the past month as his Savior has been busy guiding meetings with other nations. Hoping to catch a free moment of his busy schedule, he just wanted to take a break with his dragon.

Neglect wasn’t a concern, it was the siren call of that addictive ambrosia. Big huffs breeze, as he rubs his temples and takes another sip to his cup. Neuvillette wouldn’t keep him from the only thing that prevented his headaches, blindness, and cagey energy within him intentionally. This festival was necessary.

Photographs of his gorgeous dragon grace the front page. The Steambird had publicized the festival heavily. Wriothesley had noticed an increase of his Savior’s image appearing on its pages.

Smiling to himself he feels content that this part of Neuvillette’s visible support of the festival was so easy to portray. Of course he can’t see the paper, but it makes him look normal and inconspicuous as the surrounding chatter tells him the headlines.

Breathing in the fresh overworld air he senses a familiar aura approaching him. Crisp, crackling energy lashed around an imposing tall figure. Familiar staccato boots clicked succinctly as his newspaper was snatched away.

“Good morning, Rinderella, aren’t you a joy this morning? Is there something you need?” He turned and fixated his pale icy-rimmed clear eyes towards his friend.

“What in the fresh abyss is wrong with your eyes?” Her own striking purple eyes narrowed in observation.

“Trying out some new beauty products for Sigewinne. Color enhancement lenses or something. You would have to ask her.” Shrugging he looks up in her direction. Air prickled as her aura surged bolts of crackling energy from her vision.

Leaning down over the imposing figure of the warden she flexes her equally steely resolve. “Listen to me, oh so called warden shithead. I know something is going on. Tonight, we are going to have a sit down chat. There will be my favorite tea hot, waiting for me, and your mouth needs to start flapping, you got that?”

Her last words are punctuated with an index finger stabbing roughly into Wriothesley’s sizable chest. “Ouch there Rindy Pie. Okay..okay, I was hoping to catch the Iudex today but it looks like he is booked and busy again today.”

He nods slightly and gives a business-like smile affably up at the duelist. Waving off one of his hands behind him unconcerned. “Got it, tonight at my Fortress. All your hard earned questions will be answered.

Rolling her eyes she stands straight, crossing her arms scowling. “You had best remember. I will find you and drag you by your toes back to your office.” Looking down at his mask of innocence she huffs out a sigh. “Some of us have to work.”

Turning on her heel she lets the paper waft behind her over her back. Wriothesley can hear the crisp pages play in the wind generated by her retreat. Seems he would have to placate his old friend.

Later that evening Wriothesley sits nursing a prodigious headache. The pain had been bearable most days. He had gotten used to it but the longer he is away from his Savior’s Ischus the more he hurts. Now needing to rely solely on his elemental sight and long memory of the Fortress to navigate.

He knows his tea set as it is an old intimate friend. Muscle memory makes his work short and precise. He waves in appreciation of his dinner being dropped off by Wolsey. The heavy door gives little chance anyone will be able to sneak in.

Recently he has taken to having his meals delivered. He has found he wishes his steaks cooked more and more rare to taste. Saliva pools in a sliver as the raw juices of the meat hit his nose. Tingling in the back of his mind is a memory…

The meat, a faint scent lifts into the air. After analyzing the bouquet of aroma his mind picks out the unmistakable smell of blood. In a fugue state of delirious need he forgoes silverware, bare handed he palms the steak and tears into it.

Forgetting himself completely he only comes back into a grounded state when the heavy door to his office slams shut. Heeled nibs echo and he is caught holding his steak as if it were a casual sandwich. Saliva, and steak juice flowing down his chin.

Startled Clorinde acts on impulse. “Fuck me, what the hell are you doing?” She hurries over to his desk scanning for any towels to make the Duke presentable.

“Relax Clorabelle, I was just really hungry. Can’t a guy eat? You act like I killed the thing myself.” He smiles easily, placing the steak back on the plate. He pulls a napkin from his lap, cleaning himself off.

“See all presentable and clean. For your viewing.” Standing up he gestures over to the tea set. “Just made a pot and it’s your favorite. Please sit and close your mouth, you look like a fish.”

Straightening herself and shutting her mouth, her notorious scowl returned along with a fierce blush of embarrassment. “Fine, give me my tea, stop being a massive shit head and tell me what is going on.”

She finally sits on the old dusty red upholstered couch and trains her eyes on the Duke who busies himself preparing tea. It calms him, it's reassuring, and it allows him to get his story ready in his head and place a friendly smile on his face.

Placing her tea service properly on the table he takes his own and leans his back on the desk. Casually, he crossed his legs at the ankles, and arms loosely still holding his own tea. “I just don’t know what all the fuss is over, little old me. Rindey, we have been friends for a long time. What makes you think some enormous big problem is going on?”

Clorinde shifts, picks up her tea, brings it to her mouth to sip, stops and places it back down. Exhaling an exasperated sigh she lets her mask of anger slide. Raking both her hands through long dark locks, she lifts her face up allowing the hint of tears to crest her lashes.

“Fuck you.” her voice cracks. “I fucking care! I noticed you always have your eyes trained on the Iudex. I saw you waiting for him up at the Palais. Like I don’t know there is some invisible connection.” She wrinkles her forehead.

Briefly losing her thought she takes a small shuddered calming breath. “I noticed your eyes, your taller, your bigger, your more distant. You didn’t come to my tabletop open play. You barely reply to my letters. You were just eating raw meat like an animal!”

She shakes her head. “I swear on everything I have ever held dear. If you do not fucking tell me the truth about what the fuck is going on… and I mean all of it. I will bring you, Sigewinne, Furina and Monsieur Neuvillette into a room until you talk.”

Breathing in, she relaxes, she had managed to keep the threatened tears at bay. Wriothesley shifts in turn. Dropping his arms to his side he wanted to show he was not defensive. He drops his head to look earnest.

“Okay, truth time.” With one last long sigh he runs his hand through tufts of peppered hair. He hopes it shows slight hesitation to come forward with his statement. “So, this is a prison. Things occasionally make it into prisoner’s hands that they shouldn’t have. Some science type Fontaine Institute brain trust type had some formula he was working on.”

He pauses and shifts his weight fidgeting with the loop of his belt. “I guess this formula was the guy’s life work. Soon after he got here he escalated things with my guards and I had to go take care of it. I think he was afraid he would lose any chance to research his formula if it was in my custody. He took his last vial and stabbed me with it.”

He goes through the motion of stabbing his leg with his fist. “Bam just like that. I still don’t know all the things it did to me. Strength, additional height, some headaches and maybe the meat thing too. I don’t know.”

Removing her hat, she ruffles its folds. Shaking her head, she lets out a deep sigh as he coughs into his hand. “So, you have a drug that causes some benefits but has not been tested and could be dangerous? Fucking Archons Wriothesley this is serious. Why aren’t you under observation with Sigewinne?”

Chuckling Wriothesley holds up his hands. “Whoa there. I am not on death’s door. Just the opposite. I feel great! Look Winnie knows and I go see her all the time I promise.” Once again scowling Clorinde scoffs.

“Right, got all the body stuff, what about the Iudex?” Wriothesley doesn’t need his eyes to see the mischievous turn in Clorinde’s eyes. “Hmm?” he turns towards her, giving a head empty look. “What about him?”

She pushes his solar plexus hard with exasperation and he barely moves. “Shit…” she stops a moment and shakes her head. “Seriously you fucking coward. You know what I mean. Why are you always looking at the Iudex?”

Giving his best smile he wiggles his eyebrows. “I have eyes, Clorinellus Rex. I know what an attractive man looks like. I am allowed to look. That doesn’t mean anything. You stare red coals into that cute little fiery blond, but I know you aren’t fucking.”

He knows her face is turning from a blanched white to a flaming red without seeing it. Taken off guard he feels her push him hard enough to actually make him step back. Stepping into his personal space she quickly grabs his left nipple and twists hard. Shock and surprise short circuit his thinking as he bends over trying to laugh off the rush of painful stimulation.

“You are a fucking asshole, your Grace. See if I try to show concern again.” In a quickened snap of electro energy she leaves him to his personal recovery. The only sign she had been there was the echoing noise of the heavy slammed office door. At the very least he had protected his Savior’s secret.

The following two weeks were packed as Nevreaux’s trial had to be prepared for. His melusines had seen to making sure there was sufficient evidence. A few bank records here. Some forged letters there. Humans wanted a story, he has seen them thrive on drama over truth.

This observation was easy to capitalize on. Trials these days were a spectacle. In particular this trial had been a true work of theatre, Neuvillette had played his role perfectly. Watching dutifully allowing Furina a long leash to scandalize Nevreaux.

Perfectly playing the pawn, Nevreaux claimed ignorance. While protesting details, he railed on that the evidence was false. Rendering his pleas to sound more and more like the babbling of insanity.

Masterfully summarizing the evidence Furina shut the case sealing a guilty verdict. Shimmering the oratrice began to move as it was time to conclude the trial. Grabbing the emitted message Neuvillette’s strong baritone voice rang through the Opera house.

“According to the Oratrice Mécanique d'Analyse Cardinale Monsieur Nevreaux is Guilty”

Immediate uproar echoed off the walls of the opera house as the crowd absorbed the result. Nevreaux is led away by gardes towards Meropide. His plan had come together quite nicely. Cane in hand he took the back hallway to his office. Looking over the courtyard he felt a familiar melancholy.

It wasn’t that he had no feelings. There were deep multitudes of emotions flowing within his chest. He didn’t want to send innocent people to Meropide. There is no getting away from the fact that he had destroyed this man’s life.

Rain began to fall in earnest. His heart beat just as any living thing’s did. There were so many considerations he had to juggle. A phrase came to his mind, one about cracking eggs to make an omelette. It seems in this case Nevreaux was an egg. Deeply sighing he sees two familiar silhouettes leaning against the Fountain of Lucine.

Rubbing his temples his eyes look off in the distance towards the mist rolling through the Foggy Forest. Remembering migration patterns it seems the right time for vishaps to be back in the forest. Perhaps a walk will clear his head.

Stepping out under the rain, he walks straight towards the Fountain of Lucine. Nodding his head in greeting he acknowledged Melus and Silver who in lock step nod in return. Turning to his right he takes a leisurely pace off towards the Foggy Forest.

Scents of mud, petrichor, and fresh evergreen fill his nose. Feeling the strain of the trial leave little by little with each step he casually checks his pocket watch. As predicted two blips showed up in close proximity. Navia’s men were still tailing him. He thought it may have been remotely possible that he could have a moment of solo respite.

These two men were determined to catch him in some kind of unlawful entanglement. Perhaps these two thought he would be dense enough to lead them to a clandestine meeting of some kind. He sighs, putting the watch back into the folds of his robe. He knows this forest well, he doubts the two men following him do.

Smiling to himself he picks up his pace slipping between trees, striding over the stream, circling through hazy mist that has settled along the damp forest floor.

“Shit, where did he go?” Whispers the taller dark haired man. Twigs snap underfoot as they struggle to regain their bearings.

“Silver, keep it down. He will hear you!” the older attendant admonishes catching himself as he nearly falls.

Seeing this perfect opportunity Neuvillette sneaks behind the frustrated men. “Who will hear you exactly?” Keeping his face impartial, internally he is pleased by the shiver of shock that runs through both men. Turning around quickly they both collect themselves.

“Monsieur Neuvillette!” begins Melus, bringing his hand up to his chest he sighs out heavily. “You startled us! We didn’t hear you at all.”

“You seem exceedingly spry with as many layers of ceremonial dress you wear.” adds Silver with a discerning look in his eye.

“I enjoy these woods. They relax me after a difficult trial. My question is what brings both of you out here?” Leaning on his cane he fixes lavender slitted eyes on both men. Telling silence floats through the air.

Finally Melus spatters out. “We-, we too came to see the countryside of Fontaine. Thought to maybe rent some fishing gear and got lost.” Offering a shrug and a sheepish smile his warm eyes contrasted the cold daggers his partner’s eyes were emanating.

“Ah, hmmm.” placing a hand under his chin Neuvillette tilts his head. “Your attire is odd for fishing. Perhaps it would work on someone you haven’t been following for months. You have not been subtle or quiet in your tailing. So again I will ask, what brings you here?” Keeping his voice even took a great deal of resolve. His nerves were fiery, shortened angry nubs.

Frustration rolls off of the taller younger man. Pulling fingers through his hair his signature hat falls to the forest floor forgotten instantly. “Monsieur Neuvillette,” words pour from the younger man like venom.

“Do you have any idea how scared people are? You sit in your office stamping papers and signing decrees. You echo the thoughts of some machine.” Kicking a scuffed boot into the soft loamy forest floor he huffs in frustration.

“What are you actually doing? Are you doing anything to help? We have watched you for months! No sign of relief, we have looked for it!” red heat flushes his cheeks, Silver points at Neuvillette with accusatory eyes.

“Monsieur Silver and Monsieur Melus I offer my apologies to both of you. I see you are frustrated. However, I have set up express means to log your concerns and have a meeting with me. This is extremely improper. We should all head back together and set that up.” With calm he does not feel he gestures towards the direction of the Opera.

Melus darts worried eyes towards his longtime companion. Silver’s agitation had only doubled, “Absolutely not. We are not going anywhere and neither are you. Not until you tell us some things.” Beginning to pace, anger sends spittle off his lips as he continues ranting.

“You are embedded in every crevice of Lady Navia’s travesty. You know well more about Callus’s fate and trial than you ever shared. You are stone unmoving, no tears, just empty condolences.” Neuvillette can clearly see the pulse throbbing in the young man’s muscled neck.

Offering his hands empty, palm up, Neuvillette speaks calmly. “What happened to Lady Navia’s father was indeed a tragedy. No one came away from that ending happy. I assure you the investigation was done by the book. Monsieur Caspar made his choice.”

Voice croaking and hoarse Silver slams his fist into the palm of his hand. “No! Not this bull shit response! Callus was never in the sinthe industry. He banned it from Poisson. There was no incentive for him to have anything to do with it.”

Wild eyes darted around as years of pent up accusations poured out. “I noticed your melusines are always first on the scene of a crime. So convenient so accurate, so much evidence just piles in their laps so conveniently. Always those that publicly speak against you. Interesting isn’t it?”

Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a revolver and levels it straight at Neuvillette. “So no, Monsieur, we stay right here until you open that eloquent mouth of yours and tell us what is really happening in Fontaine.”

Swallowing in a deep breath Neuvillette speaks as calmly as he can muster. “Please, Monsieur Silver, you must know how sensitive the information you ask for is. I cannot simply speak on such things openly with anyone. You, as someone who protects for a living, can understand my position. Right?”

Melus tentatively takes a step forward trying to calm Silver down, positioning himself between the gun and the Iudex. “Hold your hand Silver! Miss Navia would never approve of this action. Plus this is the Iudex of Fontaine.”

Darkening eyes narrowed in Melus’ direction still trained on Neuvillette. “Why should I? He hasn’t said anything! We can’t be sure he will tell us anything.”

Pulling silver, gleaming bullets from his coat pocket, he loads the rounds by cocking back his hand. Pushing aside his senior in a tirade of rage he bellows. “Melus, I’m sorry… But I need answers!”

Fingers pressed down on the trigger as Melus’ expression began to form panic. With flecking recoiling sparks, gunpowder ignites. Lavender eyes widen as a silverline round rushes fast towards Neuvillette.