Chapter Text
“If you keep moving like that, it will be impossible to untangle you.”
Wriothesley isn’t really the kind of person who one would describe as delicate or even careful. His job is about dealing with people that can be as harmless as dealing with a bunch of non-threatening creatures or as dangerous as going on an adventure while not even knowing basic survival skills. He can’t show weakness, can’t make anyone believe there’s a weak spot they can exploit to escape or become a real problem for Fontaine.
That, of course, doesn’t mean he has no heart nor means he will leave an injured otter to die if he can do something.
“I just need to cut that part, promise it will make you feel better.”
That afternoon he decided to go out after a long session of checking on the mountain of papers that arrived that very same morning after a productive session of trials. Contrary to what some believed, he still needed some time off from his duties and a calm walk around with the soothing sound of the water often did the trick.
The least he was expecting was hearing a series of soft whimpers and weird noises he couldn’t really tell what the cause was and that made him start moving to look for it, finally finding a small ball of white and blue fur struggling against a mess of thread.
The little animal had apparently got tangled in that thing while swimming and his attempts at freeing himself had actually worsened the problem. The thread is tight against his body, but what worries Wriothesley more is the part wrapped around one of the back legs. He can see blood staining the soft fur, meaning it is wrapped so tightly it probably even risks damaging the limb in an irreparable way.
The otter, in the end, is an animal that despite being quite friendly, from what he had heard about the species, is still a wild animal that doesn’t really interact with humans that much.
He got anxious at his appearance and had tried to wriggle away when he started to approach him, probably understanding his vulnerable position and how could leave it easy for all the predators. When Wriothesley had tried to soothe him by raising his hands and even softening the tone of his voice a bit, he had changed to a more cautious stance, but at least stopped getting himself even more tangled.
At one point, Wriothelesy finally managed to get close enough to reach for the small thing and start the torturing process of cutting the thread to free him before it is too late for the leg. He doesn’t really feel in his element while being so delicate and careful with what he does, but that’s the only thing that seems to work to calm the stress of the poor injured creature.
“There, last piece,” he says after cutting it. “Told you it would be better.”
The little creature takes a moment to understand that he’s finally free, but Wriothesley is glad to see him trying to move around instead of just lying down. Unfortunately, it is clear the injury affects his normal movement and judging by the growing patch of red extending on the fur, he already knows he can’t leave him alone.
“Alright, will have to take you with me,” he says with a faint sigh. “You probably won’t like the idea, but leaving you here isn’t really an option.”
The blood will attract potential predators inside and outside the water, the injury will keep him from moving properly if he gets attacked and he doesn’t know a lot about how they heal, but he doesn’t really want to leave it hanging and hope for the best.
“I can fill the bathtub with water and keep you there for the meantime, sounds good?”
To his surprise, the little animal seems to be listening to what he’s saying. He hasn’t really tried to leave and that’s already something, but to stay in the same place with his little head angled up to look at him makes his stomach jump.
Tentatively, he offers his hands again so he can sniff them and do something that at least gives Wriothesley a clue about what to do. His heart swells when the small animal makes his way into his hands and seems to accept his fate.
Wriothesley is careful in picking him up, using his coat to keep him warm and pressing a bit against the wound that is starting to bleed a bit more now that the pressure of the thread is gone.
It’s not common for him to be this careful, but he makes sure to hurry back.
“You will have to disinfect the wound, clean the dried blood and then apply the ointment. Then you will have to continue checking on him and how it progresses, we can’t risk getting an infection!”
Just like he expected it, Sigewinne is mortified to learn that such a cute little one had gotten injured thanks to some irresponsible fisherman who either tried to catch him or was careless enough to fish in an area he shouldn’t be.
Her surprise about seeing Wriothesley carrying such a small creature only lasts for a moment before she hurries to write down everything she knows he will need to take care of him.
Otters are kind of popular around Fontaine and there was even a time when they were caught to be sold as luxurious pets rich people kept in aquariums that weren’t good for their health at all. It was thankfully banned at one point and there had even been a law against fishing where it was known they were to avoid injuring them.
“Anything else?” he asks, thankful that she knows better what to do than him.
“Keep the water fresh and things from his natural habitat!” she exclaims, extending the small bag towards him. “He will surely be feeling down at being isolated, so try to comfort him with fresh and clean water!”
He has no idea how to create a good environment for the creature to not feel bad about being out of his habitat, but Wriothesley knows he’s too deep already to just go back.
“Alright, then,” he says, glancing down at the small bundle that has curled even more into himself. “Will get going. Thanks for your help.”
Sigewinne nods with a smile before letting a quiet giggle. “It’s good to see you being nice and caring!”
“Don’t start,” he snorts, turning around to leave, hearing yet another giggle.
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The first thing Wriothesley notices when he arrives at his place is that the little otter has gotten quieter and is barely moving.
The combination of everything his small body is experiencing is probably too much, so he hurries to set him down on his sofa, near the lit fireplace and starts to work on getting everything Sigewinne told him to. He gathers all the bandages he has and goes on to get the ointment ready.
“Can’t say it will be nice for you, but I’ll be quick,” he says as he slowly and carefully unwraps the bundle from his coat. “It will be over soon.”
It is somehow harder than untangling him from the thread. The pain makes him whine and move to get away, trying to use every single opening to attempt an escape only to be caught midair by Wriothesley’s hands and brought back to where he was.
The cut being deep and ugly doesn’t help and he hates with all his heart to be doing it, but he finds himself whispering comforting words that aren’t even part of his normal vocabulary to help him soothe the pain and stress.
By the time he’s done, the little creature has curled up into a tiny ball once more, clearly exhausted.
Wriothesley sits down on the floor with a tired sigh. It’s funny how exhausting it is to take care of such a small creature when he supposedly deals with more challenging things on a daily basis, but he feels oddly proud about it.
This little otter was going to die if he didn’t help him and he doesn’t even want to think about how painful his death could have been. He looks so vulnerable, so cute like Sigewinne had said, that to think of the horrors he could have gone through makes the exhaustion and everything else, worth it.
“Let’s take you to your place for the night,” he says, pushing his body off the floor to gather the little one in his arms, careful not to disturb him too much. “You will have to excuse the not-so-perfect conditions.”
He’s glad he decided to get a large tub instead of a small one and he’s even glad that he has collected a couple of things from the sea in his previous walks. After filling it with the freshwater he brought, he tosses a couple of the seashells before placing the otter down.
He reacts to the water, but he doesn’t look uncomfortable, floating peacefully on the surface, it even looks as if he is getting more comfortable as he stretches on his back.
Who would have thought Wriothesley could feel this touched?
After making sure he is comfortable and in no danger, he leaves the bathroom to clean all the bandages and things he used to tend him to. His cloak is stained with blood and even a small part of his sofa, but he’s not really angry or annoyed by it and only works on cleaning it.
With that done, he goes on to get some food for himself and checks one last time if there’s something that requires his immediate attention before deciding to call it off for the day.
His entire routine will become a bit of a mess while the otter needs to be tended to, but he has the feeling it will be manageable. He wants to believe the worst has passed and he will find a way to deal with it just right.
Or so he thought.
The next day starts as any other normal day.
He wakes up early and goes on to get his clothes ready before deciding to check on the otter before moving on with the rest of his routine. He moves towards the bathroom silently, in case he is still sleeping, before pushing the door open and—
Wait.
Why is there a man sleeping inside the bathtub?