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Neuvillette’s claws trail over the rough carvings of sea life and otters on a well-loved music box. Around him is a flurry of activity, the hustle and bustle of furniture being delivered into the rooms in which they will stay. Neuvillette, Tidefolk Mate of the Frostdweller Drake Warden Wriothesley, keeps out of the way while Frostdweller movers settle his and Wriothesley’s things into their wing.
The movers sometimes stop to ask him where he desires certain pieces. Otherwise, Neuvillette leaves them be. Wriothesley had insisted Neuvillette take a break from helping move things while he checked in with Roquefort about shipments and deliveries for the Machine Floors.
To think the Fortress of Meropide has finally reached these last preparations. He and Wriothesley had chosen to see their people taken care of before themselves. Their wing is the last residential area of the Fortress to be finished and furnished. Tonight, they get to sleep in their proper bed– provided Wriothesley is not plagued by his night terrors– instead of a pile of blankets and pillows in the empty room they’d chosen for their bedroom.
Neuvillette watches the workers carry the solid, wooden bedframe through the bedroom's double doors, and another worker follows closely with the posts for the canopy. Neuvillette’s tail flicks and smiles privately to himself. Wriothesley is fully intent on keeping his promise to spoil his Mate, within reason, leaving much of the choice in furniture and decor up to Neuvillette himself.
As such, their home is shaping up to be a cozy space, marrying the solid Frostdweller and flowing Tidefolk styles seamlessly. A reflection of how far he and Wriothesley have come after a whirlwind meeting and Courtship wrought with hardships. Not to mention a rocky beginning in the North.
Wriothesley’s familiar voice soon drifts to Neuvillette’s ears past the chatter of workers around him, and the Tidefolk Dragon tucks the music box safely away in a side table drawer for now before he rises from his favourite armchair to go to his Mate. Wriothesley smiles as soon as he sees him, his stride quickening as he walks down the entry hall of their home. They’re both dressed down for work in plain clothes, Neuvillette’s hair a mess piled atop his head, but Wriothesley always smiles at Neuvillette like he’s dressed in the most beautiful outfits. Wriothesley’s fluffy tail further betrays his happiness as he takes Neuvillette’s arm. Wagging wildly behind him.
“I still can’t believe it’s shaping up,” Wriothesley says as he and Neuvillette re-enter their sitting room. “That this is all that’s left, and Meropide is complete.”
They both pause to watch a few of the other Frostdwellers finish the last touches to the room, fussing with the sofas and Neuvillette’s favourite armchair. There is a cozy stone hearth in the centre of the space, piled with softly glowing everflame stones. Gifts from the Court of the Firebed, the enchanted stones giving off gentle heat. Melusines skip by carrying small boxes, undoubtedly full of Neuvillette’s smaller personal effects and the gifts Wriothesley continues to have made for him. The Melusines disappear with them into the main bedroom.
“Meropide has been a long project, but even this grand endeavor would come to completion,” Neuvillette replies, unable to keep pride from his voice.
A long project… is putting it mildly.
This Fortress, part factory, part city, all built within and on the frozen cliffs of the North, had taken nearly two centuries to complete. The new seat of the Court of Frost had to house her citizens securely but also safely, given that many of the floors are used for production and manufacturing. The looms made to process Frostdweller shed into Meropide Wool alone take up much space themselves, never mind the Machine Floors housing equipment to process the ores and jewels of the North.
Careful planning meant that much of the construction was delayed until proper failsafes and emergency routes were considered. There were months when all Wriothesley, Roquefort, and the production Guildmasters could focus on were proper cooling methods to employ when it came to the manufacturing machinery.
Never mind the plumbing and how to keep it from freezing in the harsh winters.
In the end, a new floor had to be factored in, a water purification facility employing Tidefolk filtration methods. Pulling in seawater from the Northern Seas and desalinating it using machines very similar to the ones used on the Frostdweller ships, so voyages have access to fresh water. In Meropide, a portion of this desalinated water is pumped through the Fortress to cool the machines. They have even figured out a way to use the heated water from the cooling of the Machines to have heated baths. Yet another marriage of Frostdweller and Tidefolk technology.
That first heated bath had been a decadent treat to Neuvillette after months of sponge bathing in a warmed tent erected for that purpose. Even Wriothesley, adverse to deep baths because of the uncomfortable way the water seeps into his tail and the incident that sensation reminds him of, hadn’t passed up having a heated bath either. Provided Neuvillette was with him, of course.
Neuvillette might ask his Mate to join him for a bath tonight in their bathing room once the workers have cleared out.
“I think your study should be nearly finished, Love,” Wriothesley says as he tugs Neuvillette along towards it. “Let’s go see.”
Wriothesley has an eagerness to his step that is contagious, and considering that there is very little foot traffic in this part of their wing, Neuvillette feels that Wriothesley is right and his study is complete. It’s further confirmed when they approach it and swing the door open, stepping into a tidy, furnished study ready to see use.
The insulated windows mimic the warping of light one sees beneath the waves, letting the sunset filter into the room and scatter in colours of blue-greens like the waters of the Court of Tides. Neuvillette is impressed at how well the room keeps the illusion of being hidden underwater when Wriothesley flicks on the lights.
Neuvillette’s bed, which he had brought with him from the Court of Tides, is in this room, repurposed as a daybed that’s been set lengthwise within the wall. A cozy little nook for Neuvillette to curl up and read if he wishes, with curtains for privacy. To sleep as well, if Wriothesley’s night terrors agitate him far too much to enjoy Neuvillette’s weight and presence next to him. Shelves built within the wall and decorated with shells and other trinkets are found on each side of the daybed.
Wriothesley’s arm falls from his as he gently nudges the Tidefolk forward to explore the room further. Neuvillette trails his claws over the books that once sat on his shelves back in the Court of Tides. Mentally notes that he would enjoy other trinkets and books to fill the empty shelves. Neuvillette ponders briefly if he should keep the music box here, but decides against it.
It’s better to have on hand where it will most likely help soothe his Mate.
Pushing those thoughts aside, Neuvillette approaches the desk. There’s a wrapped gift upon it, and Neuvillette immediately turns to Wriothesley and raises an eyebrow.
“As if I will ever be satisfied with spoiling you once,” Wriothesley teases, stepping up next to Neuvillette.
“Only once?” Neuvillette echoes with fond exasperation.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the ways Wriothesley spoiled him, though.
As Wriothesley comes to stand with Neuvillette, their tails reach and twine in their customary hold. They are practically known for it among the Frostdwellers. Especially those dwelling in the Fortress of Meropide, who are so used to seeing their Drake Warden and his Tidefolk Mate walking and talking in the halls with their tails twined.
The gift box on Neuvillette’s new desk is simple and flat, about four inches thick. Nothing too fancy about it. That’s how Neuvillette knows for certain it is from his Mate. He lifts the lid from it carefully, setting the lid aside before he carefully pulls the paper concealing his gift away.
“Oh,” Neuvillette says with soft reverence as he reaches in and pulls out an ornate clockwork piece.
He studies it for a moment, the room silent as it ticks softly away. There are no traditional hands or a face on this clock, only intricate and delicate clockwork blooms. Neuvillette understands it right away. They are built to imitate the romaritime blooms of the Court of Tides, and every bloom open on the clock represents the current hour. Their inner petals are the minutes. Little glass bubbles appear and disappear all around the blooms to signify the seconds in a minute. Neuvillette does not doubt that when it hits midnight, all the flowers will reset and bloom again through the day.
“You got me a clock.” Neuvillette turns to look at Wriothesley, sees his wry, proud smile, and the Tidefolk blinks at his Mate in disbelief. “You made me a clock?! When did you have the time for this, Wriothesley!?”
“I made time,” Wriothesley says with a laugh, already opening his arms to intercept Neuvillette as the Tidefolk comes in for a hug. Neuvillette is cradled in his Frostdweller Mate’s strong arms as Wriothesley whispers, “Welcome home, Sweetheart.”
Amazing how someone saying it aloud finally makes it feel real.
“It truly is, isn’t it?” Neuvillette whispers with quiet awe as he tucks himself more into his Mate, “Our home. After all this time, all the hard work. Everything we’ve been through…”
“Feels surreal,” Wriothesley agrees, swaying in place with Neuvillette. “I can’t wait to watch it flourish with you at my side. The whole of Meropide and our own little space here in our wing.” Wriothesley’s hold tightens around Neuvillette. “You are what makes this place home to me.”
Neuvillette feels happy tears prick at the corners of his eyes, and he admonishes his Mate for making him weepy with a scolding trill. The fins of his tail flare before they settle again. Wriothesley merely chuffs, soft Frostdweller sounds of contentment. His tail wagging and taking Neuvillette’s along with it. Wriothesley presses kisses to his cheeks.
Neuvillette just enjoys his Mate’s warmth and presence for a few moments longer.
“We should rejoin the workers before they accuse us of absconding together to partake in salacious activities,” Neuvillette points out with a soft laugh. Neuvillette sways away and takes Wriothesley’s hands in his to tug his Frostdweller from the study. “Come, Wriothesley.”
“You need to be mindful of what words you string together,” Wriothesley scolds him playfully. “Putting that idea in my head and then making your request that I follow my Mate with such a phrase!” He tsks playfully. “What would the Courtly Tidefolk think of you now? They’d accuse me of corrupting you.”
As if nobles of the Tidefolk Court don’t already. It's become an in-joke between Neuvillette and Wriothesley ever since the Neuvillette Estate has remained profitable even without its heir. The up-and-coming Noble families have set their eyes on Neuvillette still. Acting as if he is still an eligible Dragon. Thinking of him as some poor victim of an arranged Courtship that would drop everything to be whisked back to the comforts of the Court of Tides. That Wriothesley is a brute and a tyrant holding his poor Tidefolk Mate hostage in the cruel, barren North.
Furina’s Musical rendition of their Courtship and the conspiracies that plagued it is famous in many of the Draconic Courts and is incredibly popular within the Court of Tides, but it still doesn’t account for some Dragons’ personal delusions.
Neuvillette has had more important issues to take care of than those chasing his wealth.
Right now, it’s helping the workers finish up their wing when he and Wriothesley rejoin them. With them working alongside the movers, it's quick work to get the last of the items settled. Once it’s all done, they all dine together in Neuvillette and Wriothesley’s private dining room to celebrate the completion of the Drake Warden’s wing. Everyone congratulating them on finally being able to settle into a proper home.
If only they knew how much it meant to Neuvillette.
When everyone files out for the night and Wriothesley is seeing them off, Neuvillette walks their halls. Traces his hands over the sofas in the sitting room, admiring the artwork they’ve chosen for their walls. There’s a painting of his estate in the sitting room. A portrait of him and Wriothelsey cuddled together in regal furs, they’d sat for it when they’d officially reached their first hundred years as Mates.
Neuvillette laughs softly to himself, remembering that day. The poor artist had one of his paintbrushes stolen by a lemming.
Neuvillette moves on. Contemplating the extra rooms included in their wing as he passes their doors. They’ve chosen to leave them unfurnished for now. Giving himself and Wriothesley time to decide. Rather, it's Wriothesley providing ample time for Neuvillette to choose what those rooms may be used for.
Who or what they may house. Their bedroom itself is connected to one such space.
A nursery, perhaps.
Neuvillette is still unsure two centuries later. He’ll be forever thankful for Wriothesley’s consideration of his autonomy and for providing him the chance to choose for himself. Neuvillette knows he must decide one day, and he will. His egg cycle is the closest to occurring, after all.
Wriothesley rejoins him when Neuvillette has found his way back to the study. The Frostdweller’s form framed by the doorway as he watches Neuvillette stand on his chair to hang up his blooming clock. Neuvillette can feel his admiring gaze. He is not surprised when, as soon as he turns to step off his chair, Wriothesley is there to gently grab him around his waist and lift him down.
“Everyone has left, I take it?” Neuvillette asks, to which Wriothesley hums in agreement. “Good, they will need to be well-rested for the celebration tomorrow. The completion of a Fortress is quite an occasion, would you agree, Mate of Mine?”
“Bold of you to assume our people will not commence the celebration tonight,” Wriothesley says with a laugh and a toothy grin. “I’m sorely tempted to celebrate myself. Though what I have in mind is a celebration for me and my beautiful Mate alone.”
“Let me guess,” Neuvillette says as he pushes in his chair, “You saw our big comfy bed brought in and properly made up, and desire to properly break it in.”
“How well my Mate knows me,” Wriothesley says, pulling Neuvillette into his arms. He presses his nose into Neuvillette’s hair and inhales deeply. Neuvillette can feel the air stirring from how quickly Wriothesley’s tail wags. “If I had my way, you and I would be breaking in every one of our new rooms. Tonight and tomorrow.”
“Insatiable creature,” Neuvillette scolds without bite. He nuzzles back against Wriothesley. “There is something we must do first. Something I have been waiting nearly two centuries to do, and I will not wait a moment more.”
Wriothesley takes but a moment to understand. His tail wags harder. “Yes. Yes, you’re right.” Wriothesley pulls away, though he takes Neuvillette’s hand in his to pull him with him. “Do you know where it’s been set, Mate of Mine? Where have we hidden it away?”
Neuvillette nods and tugs Wriothesley along. Back into their bedroom. It’s been tucked safely within his dresser drawer, cushioned by his clothing. Neuvillette pulls the ornate box from its spot. The movers have not done damage to the box with all their jostling of the dresser. Neuvillette pulls it out and turns to Wriothesley, eyes bright.
Neither of them have set eyes on their Mating Cord since it was first placed in this box by Roquefort at their Mating Ceremony. It felt like an ill omen to look upon it without immediately taking to a threshold to hang it over. Now though. Now their home is complete.
They take the box to the entrance of their wing, where Wriothesley opens the box to take out the Mating Cord. Neuvillette sets the box aside to run his fingers over the soft woven material. Wriothesley’s dark grey shed. Neuvillette’s own long hair was braided into it.
“Together,” Wriothesley whispers, his eyes shining with warmth.
Neuvillette smiles and nods. Together, he and Wriothesley carefully hang the seamless loop of their Mating Cord over the door of their wing. Their home. As is tradition for Frostdwellers. Both Neuvillette and Wriothesley have to stand there a moment in quiet awe that a moment they’ve waited so long for has finally come and gone.
They’re finally home.