Work Text:
Today the sea is quiet. Too quiet.
Rain falls in torrential downpour, creating a cold and heavy haze over the Opera Epiclese. Lightning flashes between the dark grey clouds above, creating loud crashes of thunder that practically shake the very earth the Iudex strides over. The roaring wind pulls at his soaked jacket, and the rain makes his long, braided hair cling to his back. He’s almost knocked over by the gusts numerous times as he listens to the raindrops collide with the surface of the water.
And even then it is still too quiet.
There is not enough noise in the world to fill the deafening silence that Neuvillette is now forced to endure. From now until the rest of his terribly long life, he must live in the wake of Wriothesley’s permanent silence. The man who freed him from the confines of loneliness that came with becoming the Chief Justice, the man who helped him untangle his emotions, the man who taught him what love meant, forever lost to time.
Somewhere along the shoreline, Neuvillette stops, and gazes out over the sea. Its surface bubbles with anguish as hundreds of thousands of raindrops pelt it like bullets. Over the last few days, the weather of Fontaine has been far less than desirable, but this could very well be the worst weather the nation has seen in a long time.
Neuvillette wonders if it will ever end.
A week prior, he came home from a lengthy trial to find his husband bundled up on the couch, enjoying a cup of afternoon tea. It wasn’t particularly cold, but with Wriothesley becoming so frail - in comparison to the physique of his younger self - in recent years, he got cold quite easily. His Cryo Vision certainly didn’t help with maintaining body heat either.
“How was your day?” Wriothesley asked.
“It was alright,” Neuvillette answered as he removed his shoes and carefully placed them side by side close to the door. “Only one trial.”
After removing his coat, he sat down next to his beloved husband, wrapping his arms around him in a warm embrace. Wriothesley took a sip of his tea before setting it down, and returning the gesture. His hands were still warm from holding the mug. Neuvillette took a deep breath in, relishing the warmth and scent of mint, seawater, and something that is so distinctly Wriothesley.
“Someone missed me,” he remarked.
“I always miss you when I’m away from home,” Neuvillette responded.
He leaned in for a quick kiss before getting up for a glass of water. After such a long trial, he needed something especially refreshing, and reached for a container labeled ‘Cider Lake’. Its purity had been unmatched for centuries, and was always excellent for clearing his mind. He rounded the corner to their living room, set his glass down on a coaster, and snuggled up to Wriothesley again, who reached his hand over to grasp Neuvillette’s.
“I love you so dearly,” the Iudex whispers.
“I love you too.”
Neuvillette shifted so that his face was pressed into the crook of Wriothesley’s neck. Short silver hair that was once black tickled his forehead. For a few years, it had been a running joke between them that Wriothesley was ‘an old man like yourself’ as he’s aged, but Neuvillette truly didn’t see his husband in such a way. Their love was still a fiery blaze, impossible to be extinguished. He loved him the same as ever before, for the man he was and still is.
A comfortable silence filled the room as they held each other, listening to each other’s breathing. At some point, Neuvillette dozed off, both arms and one leg wrapped around Wriothesley. By the time he woke up, the sun had just set, bathing the sky in an orange glow. He was still in Wriothesley’s arms, but something felt amiss. His skin was cold, even for a Cryo User.
“Wrio?”
The man underneath him gave no response.
Neuvillette removed himself from Wriothesley, retracting his arms from around his shoulders to touch his face, pale and lifeless.
“Wrio,” he said again.
For a second time, he received no response. Fear began to settle in and Neuvillette gently shook him, desperately trying to wake him up. His limp body was unresponsive to everything. In a panic, Neuvillette leaned his head down, pressing an ear against Wriothesley’s chest, only to be met with deep silence. Not a single noise echoed within his chest.
A moment of quiet provided a buffer as Neuvillette realized the true horror he’s been faced with. He gripped the sides of Wriothesley’s unfeeling face, letting loose a blood-curdling scream filled with torment. It’s all Neuvillette could feel, all he could express, and all he could hear. The voice within his head cried out:
‘He’s gone.’
He reached underneath Wriothesley’s shoulders, lifting his torso upwards. His arms dangled like that of a ragdoll, and yet they were as heavy as lead. Neuvillette held his body close, sobbing into his hair, rocking back and forth in a futile attempt to soothe himself. The embrace felt so horrendously empty without Wriothesley’s arms around him. The utter lack of feeling he received was almost too heart-wrenching to bear.
For hours, Neuvillette sat there, crying as he clutched onto Wriothesley’s cold and lifeless body. The man he knew was gone, and all that remained was an empty, soulless shell. It was almost too difficult to believe that hours earlier he returned home from work to find his husband safe and sound, and now his body was dead in Neuvillette’s arms.
It’s almost like he waited to die.
The thought did little to comfort Neuvillette as tears streamed down his face. To make matters worse, a catastrophic thunderstorm roared outside, the rain pounding against the dark windows. The only light came from a small lamp that had been left on from when he arrived home. Neuvillette loosened his grip on Wriothesley’s shoulders. As expected, he didn’t slump over, his dying muscles remaining stiff and keeping him upright.
The look on his face is peaceful, as if he was really just sleeping. Even in death, Wriothesley was the image of beauty itself. He had aged over their years together, with his hair becoming more silver than black, wrinkles etched themselves deeper into his skin, but even after over half a century, his eyes still remained that beautiful icy blue. Neuvillette was tempted to open them one last time, but he understood he wouldn’t be met with his husband’s cold, yet comforting eyes.
In a moment of longing, Neuvillette pressed his lips against his, almost wishing that it would somehow bring Wriothesley back. The cold of his skin is enough to shake him back to reality, and a sob rips its way through his chest.
“I love you so much.”
Wriothesley passed away at the age of 91, mere months after he and Neuvillette celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary. Even then, Neuvillette was not expecting his death to be so sudden. The funeral service had been held earlier today, with a large number of people attending. Whether Wriothesley would’ve admitted it or not, he changed the lives of hundreds, if not thousands.
Now, Neuvillette stands on the edge of the sea in solitude, letting the rain - influenced by his own sorrow - wash over him. The sharp waves lap up against the pebbled shore, receding when they are just shy of the toes of his shoes. He wishes that the water would engulf him and drag him out to sea, leaving his wretched heartbreak behind.
Neuvillette still remembers the first time he encountered Wriothesley. His trial was certainly not one to be forgotten. It was shocking to see someone so young being put on trial for such a serious crime. The case resonated with him in a way that others hadn’t. It was almost admirable that such a young person would take matters of justice into their own hands, and save themselves - and hundreds of other children - from becoming the victims of human trafficking. Of course, the Iudex remained impartial, and sentenced him to serve 15 years in the Fortress of Meropide.
After that, Wriothesley became a mere memory, a person who wouldn’t re-enter his life until he served his sentence. However, the day his sentence was complete, word spread to the Court of Fontaine that the young man had overtaken the Fortress of Meropide after the previous warden fled in a panic. Even though the Fortress was an independent entity, separate from the justice system of Fontaine, Neuvillette paid the facility a visit, only to find Wriothesley sitting in the warden’s office, staring at an open file.
His hair had started graying, a sign of the stress he endured during his time in the Fortress. He had gained a significant amount of muscle, undoubtedly from participating in boxing matches over the last decade and a half. But what caught Neuvillette’s attention was his eyes. After all these years, they remained the same brilliant, icy blue. He’s grown into quite the young man, Neuvillette thought.
He cleared his throat before speaking up, “Good afternoon, I have heard that you’ve assumed the position of the previous warden.”
Instead of responding, Wriothesley murmured an off topic comment. “I can’t believe how young I was.”
“Excuse me?”
“I was only 15 when you sentenced me.”
Wriothesley looked up to meet the Iudex's eyes. Neuvillette expected to see anger in the young man’s face, but he was greeted with a slight smile. A genuine smile from somebody who has every right to hate Neuvillette for sentencing him, somebody who should’ve hated him.
And he smiled back.
Little did he know, that visit would be the start of something that Neuvillette would never be able to comprehend.
The thought of Wriothesley’s warm smile is able to soothe Neuvillette for a moment, and the rain lightens up. But only seconds later, his grief drowns him again, pulling him through waves of despair, and the rain continues to relentlessly pelt against the ocean’s surface. The water is ice cold as Neuvillette takes a step forward, letting it lap over his shoes. He shivers, chilled to the bone by the downpour and gale force winds.
Nothing will ever be as cold as Wriothesley’s unfeeling dead body.
Wriothesley never requested anything special for his funeral, since the topic was hard to approach. With Neuvillette being immortal, both of them knew there would come a day where Wriothesley would no longer stand by him, but neither of them acknowledged the eventual reality, so Wriothesley’s funerary suit was something he would’ve worn in everyday life: a black button-down shirt, black slacks, and black boots. It may not have been conventional, but Neuvillette believed that Wriothesley deserved to look as much like himself as possible. After all, Neuvillette didn’t want his last memory of Wriothesley to be of a man he didn’t know.
It took Neuvillette and Wriothesley years to build a work relationship, let alone a personal one. Five years after Wriothesley overtook the Fortress of Meropide, he had gained quite the reputation, even in the Court of Fontaine. He transformed it from a place of oppression and punishment, to one of fairness and rehabilitation. As a former inmate, he was able to understand how the operations of the Fortress affected everyone, so he was able to tackle all issues with an ‘insider’s perspective,’ so to speak. And to make his achievements more admirable, all of the progress that he had made was done by himself.
Over those years, his good deeds earned him the title of ‘Duke.’ Since he was the Iudex, Neuvillette got to bestow the title upon him - under the supervision of Lady Furina - in front of thousands of Fontainian citizens.
“Well done,” Neuvillette said to Wriothesley in a hushed voice.
“Thank you,” the newly appointed Duke responded with a proud smile.
And Neuvillette smiled back.
Deep down, he was genuinely proud of the young man’s accomplishments, especially given the irony of the situation. But Wriothesley was a changed man. He took challenges head on, and did what needed to be done. Neuvillette greatly admired his persistence and unyielding drive. From there, the two worked closely together, and Neuvillette got to see more of Wriothesley’s personality each time he invited the Duke to the Palais Mermonia to discuss work matters. He was witty and clever, and developed a tendency to poke fun at Neuvillette. But it was never unwelcome, as any time with Wriothesley was time to be treasured. He had formed an attachment to the young man, and found himself craving Wriothesley’s presence when he was feeling down. Thus, he started inviting him up more consistently for reasons unrelated to work.
The feeling of friendship was not one that Neuvillette was familiar with, and it was not something that was comfortable at first. On one hand, it was frightening to get to know somebody, and let somebody else get to know him, especially given that he was an important figure of the nation. But on the other, it was refreshing to have someone to talk to, somebody to spend his free time with, somebody he could develop a deep connection with.
One day, a particularly difficult trial left Neuvillette rather upset. The case was reminiscent of Wriothesley’s, of what could have been had he not done what he did all those years ago. Any cases involving children were always hard for him, but this one struck harder than normal. On an impulse, instead of going home after the trial, he traveled down to the Fortress of Meropide in need of Wriothesley’s company. It would’ve been late when he arrived, but he hoped the Duke wouldn’t mind the surprise visit.
Neuvillette knocked on the office door, and moments later Wriothesley answered.
“Neuvillette? What brings you here tonight?”
“I…” he paused, taking in a deep breath to maintain his composure, “I wished to see you.”
Wriothesley squinted, analyzing Neuvillette’s expression. Something in his eyes told him something wasn’t quite right, and he let the Iudex in. “Can I get you some tea?”
But he received no response. They walked up to his office in uncomfortable silence, the only noise coming from the clinking of their shoes against the metal stairs. Neither of them said a word until Neuvillette sat down in a chair across from Wriothesley’s desk. However, the Duke didn’t take a seat.
“Is something wrong?” he asked.
“The trial today was difficult.”
Wriothesley leaned against his desk and crossed his arms, “How so?”
“It reminded me of yours,” his voice started to quake, “a couple of child traffickers.”
Fear flashed in Wriothesley’s eyes before he was able to harden his expression.
“I began to think of how your case could’ve ended much differently, had you not taken matters into your own hands. Back then, I did not understand the gravity of your actions. Truth be told, I am grateful for what you have done, even if others may perceive it as wrong. Otherwise - and this may sound selfish - I would not…I would not have somebody in my life whom I trust in the way that I trust you.”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but is cut off by Neuvillette.
“You are special to me, Wriothesley, in ways that I cannot fully understand, nor explain. I feel my heart ache for your company when you are not near. I feel a sense of longing whenever I hear your name, and my heart races when we are close.”
Neuvillette rose from his chair and carefully approached Wriothesley, step by step. Tears pricked his eyes, threatening to spill down his cheeks.
“You…you are the lone star of a dark night sky. You are the sun peaking through the clouds as it rains. You are so incredibly dear to me.”
“I love you.”
Without thinking, he reached forward, grabbing onto Wriothesley’s arm. Emotion overtook him and he let the tears fall. He could not bring himself to look the Duke in the eye. Not once had Neuvillette let anyone see him in distress, at least not intentionally. There had been a time where Wriothesley caught him outside the Palais Mermonia, standing alone in the rain. His tears blended in with the water trickling down his face, so he was able to hide it, but not this time.
Realizing what he had said and done, Neuvillette pulled his hand away in embarrassment, but Wriothesley took it. He pulled it towards his chest, holding it tightly. Neuvillette felt his heart leap into his throat, rendering him completely speechless. His face felt warm, but Wriothesley pressed a cool hand against his cheek, and Neuvillette slowly met his eyes. The tension between them was palpable. He felt his body being drawn towards Wriothesley’s, tempting him to close the distance between them. Wriothesley’s piercing blue eyes were so mesmerizing, and impossible for Neuvillette to read.
“Wriothesley?” he whispered.
He received no response, but before Neuvillette had the chance to repeat himself, Wriothesley pressed his lips against his, cutting him off. At first, Neuvillette froze, startled by the Duke’s unexpected actions. The feeling of kissing Wriothesley felt so foreign, yet it felt so right. It was unlike anything he’s ever experienced, and it made him want to let go. Let go of all his worries, his embarrassment. Every single one of troubles washed away as he melted into the feeling.
No words were exchanged between them as hands roamed, with no desire other than to feel one another in the moment. Neither of them knew how badly they desired each other, and now that they knew how the other feels, they can’t get enough of each other's touch. The complexity of human emotion caused Neuvillette much grief throughout his lifetime, and if he were honest, he didn’t understand his feelings towards Wriothesley until his words of confession left his mouth, and the relief he felt knowing the Duke felt the same way was overwhelming.
That moment had been such a turning point for Neuvillette, permanently altering the course of his life for over five decades. One small visit to the Fortress of Meropide - and a lengthy conversation - left him with a partner. An actual romantic partner. Neuvillette had never engaged in such relations with anybody, but neither had Wriothesley, so at least it was a first for both of them.
The first few months of their relationship had been fairly casual, visiting each other every once and a while. At first, Neuvillette thought he’d already seen most of Wriothesley’s personality, but he was oh so wrong. He became warm, caring, and very affectionate, always needing some form of contact with Neuvillette. Growing up as an orphan and criminal, he had been touch-starved most of his life, so now that he had someone to love, he couldn't get enough. Not that Neuvillette wasn’t the exact same way though. It did take some time for Neuvillette to gain the trust he required to reciprocate Wriothesley’s touch, but once he did, he couldn’t stay away either. Perhaps he was more human than he previously thought.
However, as much as he behaved like the average person, he was not human, and that was not something he could keep hidden from Wriothesley forever. The Duke knew Neuvillette wasn’t entirely human, given that he hasn’t visibly aged over the last 35 years, but he never suspected that Neuvillette was the hydro dragon sovereign until a few months after their romantic relationship began. As he visited the surface more often, he became much more aware of the weather patterns of Fontaine, and how they connected with Neuvillette’s emotional states.
One day, he spoke up about it.
“Does the weather affect your mood? Or does your mood affect the weather?” he asked.
Neuvillette’s brow furrowed, “What do you mean by that?”
“I guess what I’m trying to ask is…is the old wive’s tale about how it rains when the hydro dragon weeps actually right?”
Wriothesley’s question made Neuvillette’s heart skip a beat, and he averted his eyes out of mild panic. The Iudex knew what he was asking, but couldn’t bear to answer it. No one had ever suspected - at least not openly - that Neuvillette was the hydro dragon sovereign. He’d never addressed this with anyone besides the Melusines and Lady Furina, as there was no reason to tell anyone else. Anxiety welled up within him as the silence became intolerable.
“You can tell me if it’s true or not.”
Neuvillette met his eyes from across the table, and was surprised to be met with an expression of openness, rather than accusation. At that moment, he knew his secret was safe, and he nodded.
“Yes, it is true.” He took a deep breath in. “I am the hydro dragon sovereign.”
Instead of reacting to the confession with words, Wriothesley reached a hand over the table’s surface, open palm facing upwards. Neuvillette took hold of it and Wriothesley left a gentle kiss on the back of his hand.
“Your secret is safe with me, Neuvi.”
Neuvillette desperately craves that warmth again. What he wouldn’t give to get Wriothesley back. His status, his soul, his entire life would be an easy trade to make if it meant he could be with the love of his life again. From recalling these memories, the numbness Neuvillette feels is washed away, and his heart cracks. Knees buckling, his head falls into his hands as he collapses down onto the shore, the seawater soaking his black slacks. The jagged pebbles dig into his skin through the fabric, but he doesn’t care. No sensation can compare to the emotional agony he feels. He desperately wants it to end, even if it means letting the ocean sweep him off shore, and drown him forever.
But as much as his grief overtakes him, he wouldn’t trade his life with Wriothesley for the world. Though short in comparison to his lifespan, these past six decades have been unforgettable for him and Wriothesley. He watched him pursue numerous of his dreams, and grow into an incredible person. As much as Wriothesley was hesitant to leave the Fortress of Meropide, Neuvillette convinced him to come reside with him on the surface, just outside the Court of Fontaine, and continue to do some administrative work for the Fortress. And on the side, he’d work as a boxing coach. It took quite a bit of time to get used to life on the surface, the clean air, the sunlight, the quiet, all of it felt so foreign to Wriothesley, having spent most of the last twenty years underwater.
It was also a significant change for Neuvillette’s life. He didn’t understand how depressing it was to come home to an empty house every day until Wriothesley was there to greet him for the first time. The overwhelming amount of affection he received after work quickly became his favourite part of the day.
Well, aside from their time in the bedroom.
That was the second aspect of their relationship that Neuvillette was intimidated by. Emotional intimacy had been one struggle, but physical intimacy needed a whole different level of trust and comfort. However, Wriothesley had made sure to be gentle, affirming, and loving the entire night the first night they made love. It made Neuvillette fall for him all over again.
Now, one side of their bed is doomed to be cold forever.
Neuvillette isn’t sure when he started crying, his face too numb from the frigid rain. The weather continues to get worse the more he thinks of Wriothesley, but as much as it hurts him, he can’t stop. He thinks about all the times he returned home after a rough trial to see dinner ready and waiting, with Wriothesley sitting patiently at the table. About all the times the two went to visit the Fortress to watch the boxing tournaments. About all the ‘I love you’s’ exchanged between them during hard times.
Neuvillette takes his hands away from his face, and his eyes fall to his wedding ring. The sterling silver seems so dull under the stormy sky. Even the beautiful condessence crystals fail to shine in his grief. He reaches into his pocket to retrieve Wriothesley’s wedding ring. As much as he wanted to let Wriothesley wear it in death, he couldn’t bear to let go of it forever.
Marriage was not something Neuvillette expected to occur within his lifetime, given his status and role within Fontaine, but as he found himself with Wriothesley, he felt that it was only right of them to abide by tradition. Their first conversation about marriage happened about two years into their relationship. The two had been living together for quite some time, and Neuvillette felt it was only appropriate to throw the idea out.
“I have a question to ask you…how do you feel about marriage?” Neuvillette asked.
“I’m not really interested,” Wriothesley said.
“May I ask why?”
“I don’t see the point.”
And they left it at that.
A year later, Neuvillette reapproached the topic, wanting to know if Wriothesley’s opinion on the matter had changed. His answer was unexpected:
“Maybe.”
Maybe.
That single word ended up encouraging and haunting him for another year, until Wriothesley suddenly proposed. Of course, Neuvillette accepted, absolutely thrilled. The ring was absolutely beautiful, made of white gold with a moderately sized condessence crystal in the centre. For their wedding, he wore a pristine white suit, while Wriothesley’s was jet-black. At first, Neuvillette was worried about how the people of Fontaine would receive the news. The Iudex marrying a former criminal was bound to be controversial, wasn’t it? But to his surprise, it was received quite well, with nearly the entire nation celebrating their union.
It was an unforgettable and beautiful occasion, one that Neuvillette never understood he needed until that fateful day. Their wedding bands were equally stunning, each were sterling silver with a subtle scale pattern, Neuvillette’s ring containing several condessence crystals embedded in the band, and Wriothesley’s containing crimson agate.
Neuvillette removes his wedding band, and holds it in the palm of his hand next to Wriothesley’s ring. As much as it hurt to continue wearing his own ring, feeling the reminder that its counterpart will never be worn again, it hurt more to remove it. The idea of removing it felt like abandoning all the time he spent with Wriothesley, and all the memories they made together. Legally, marriage lasts until death, but to Neuvillette, their union meant so much more than that. Wriothesley is the love of his painfully long life, his one and only, the one who was meant to be his forever. But fate has been cruel, forcing Neuvillette to outlive him for centuries, possibly even eons.
His fingers close around Wriothesley’s wedding ring as he draws his hands towards his chest, holding it as he’d hold his husband. To Neuvillette, the most difficult part of grieving for him was that the person he needed the most after Wriothesley’s passing was Wriothesley himself. Loneliness has taken him hostage, more intensely than he can ever recall, as his feelings drown him, and the rain drowns Fontaine. His whole body shakes in the unrelenting rain, shivering from the cold. The waves rhythmically lap up against the pebbled shore, almost as if the water were trying to reach out to Neuvillette, attempting to comfort him. After all, the Fontainian Sea is his origin, and the place he shall return when his long life comes to an end.
A brief moment of peace washes over Neuvillette as he thinks about the prospect. Perhaps he and Wriothesley will reunite after his death. If that is the case, Neuvillette will remain loyal to his undying love, and wait as long as necessary to see him again. His body may decay, and his mind might degrade, but nothing will stop him from forgetting the life he had with Wriothesley and the love he feels for him. He will always remember that charming smile, his beautiful blue eyes, and his soothing voice. Every single detail will remain etched in Neuvillette’s mind until he takes his last breath - he will make sure of it.
Neuvillette will never forget the man who healed him, and the man he healed.
He opens his hands to face their wedding bands again, watching the stones shimmer ever-so-slightly.
“Rest in peace, my love. May we encounter one another again, and I pray you forgive me for making you wait so long.”