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The Café Lutece was buzzing that afternoon, sunlight spilling over its aquamarine awnings as the people of Fontaine enjoyed their pastries, coffee, and—of course—the unfolding spectacle.
Seated at a prime outdoor table were three of Fontaine’s most prominent figures: Navia, radiant and poised, Clorinde, stoic and intimidatingly beautiful, and Furina, the ex-Archon herself. Her chin rested in her hand, blue eyes darting between her two companions as her thoughts swirled into chaos.
It wasn’t her fault, really. First, there was the compliment—no, the series of compliments.
“You look lovely today,” Navia had said with that warm, honeyed voice of hers, leaning slightly forward, her golden locks catching the sunlight like something out of a painting.
“Indeed,” Clorinde had added in her quieter, deeper tone, though her words somehow felt even more deliberate. “Your choice of attire is striking.”
Furina had frozen mid-sip of her sparkling water, her mind short-circuiting. Compliments? From both of them? Surely, that was normal, wasn’t it? People said nice things to their friends all the time.
Then came the not-so-innocent gestures. Navia had offered her a bite of her pastry—an almond croissant—guiding the flaky, powdered treat to Furina’s lips before she could even process what was happening. Clorinde, not to be outdone, had gently adjusted Furina’s scarf when the breeze picked up, her gloved hands lingering for a beat too long.
And now, as Navia laughed at one of Clorinde’s rare but surprisingly witty remarks, Furina could feel the gazes of the entire café on them. People weren’t even pretending to be discreet anymore, whispering behind their menus and openly grinning in their direction.
“What is happening?” Furina mumbled to herself, staring at her untouched dessert.
No, seriously, what?
“Did you say something, dear?” Navia asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“Nothing!” Furina yelped, sitting up straight. Her cheeks burned, and she hated how obvious it was against her pale complexion.
Across the table, Clorinde’s lips quirked in the faintest of smirks. Furina was certain she was imagining it—Clorinde didn’t smirk. Did she?
By the next week, the entire nation of Fontaine seemed to have taken up the role of matchmaker.
“Do you think they’ll confess today?”
“Navia’s got this in the bag!”
“No, no, Clorinde’s subtlety will win out.”
Furina stomped down the cobblestone street, determined to ignore the gossip that seemed to follow her everywhere. Her cheeks were flushed, as they often were these days.
When Neuvillette requested a meeting, Furina expected a lecture about her new role as an ordinary citizen or perhaps advice on how to manage her reputation. She did not expect him to summon Navia and Clorinde as well.
The Chief Justice stood before them, his expression calm but his tone unusually stern. “While I trust both of you as honorable individuals, I must remind you that Furina is very dear to me. Her well-being is my utmost priority.”
“Leviathan!” Furina exclaimed, scandalized. “What are you—”
Navia held up a hand, smiling gently. “We understand, Monsieur Neuvillette. Furina is important to us, too.”
Clorinde gave a solemn nod. “We have no intention of causing her harm.”
Neuvillette's usually calm demeanor faltered for a moment, his long lashes fluttering in what could only be described as awkward concern. “I should warn you… If you hurt her—”
“You’ll bring down the wrath of the Chief Justice?” Navia teased lightly, her grin widening when Neuvillette blinked in confusion.
“Not exactly,” he said, straightening. “But I will personally ensure you answer for it. Kindly, of course.”
Furina groaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is so embarrassing. Why are you like this?”
Neuvillette, to his credit, looked genuinely apologetic. “I only wish to protect you, Furina.”
“Well, I’m certain that there’s no need to worry,” she grumbled.
Navia and Clorinde exchanged amused glances before Navia stepped forward. “Rest assured, we’ll take good care of her.”
Clorinde, with her ever-serious expression, added, “You have my word.”
Furina peeked through her fingers, her cheeks burning as the weight of their words settled over her, and well… If her foolish traitorous heart skipped a beat at their sincere words? Theres no need for them to know.
By the time Furina realized their intentions—because of course it took her weeks—Fontaine was in an uproar of joy.
“They kissed her hand!”
“I saw Clorinde carrying her a bouquet down by the street!”
“Navia made her laugh.”
Meanwhile, Furina was in Neuvillette’s office, laying face down on a couch, muffled screaming can be heard.
“What do I do?” she wailed to Neuvillette, who sat on his desk, looking quite amused at the scene.
“Follow your heart,” he suggested, his lips twitching ever so slightly upward.
What actual bullshit—!?
“That’s terrible advice!” Furina cried.
But even as she said it, the thought of accepting their affections didn’t seem so terrible after all.
Furina sat in the Aquabus, arms crossed, staring resolutely out at the scenery as the city glided by. She refused to look at her companions—Navia and Clorinde—both seated suspiciously close on either side of her. The Aquabus wasn’t even that crowded, so why were they practically boxing her in?
“I trust you enjoyed the opera last night?” Navia asked, her tone sweet and full of warmth.
“It was… fine,” Furina replied, trying her hardest to sound aloof and dignified. She glanced at Clorinde, who was leaning back in her seat with her arms crossed.
“You seemed to enjoy yourself during the duet scene,” Clorinde said, her voice carrying the faintest hint of teasing.
Furina spluttered. “I was simply appreciating the… artistry!”
From across the aisle, two older women chuckled behind their fans. “Such a lovely trio,” one of them whispered—loud enough for Furina to hear. “Do you think they’ll announce it soon?”
Her face turned an impressive shade of red. “Announce what?!” she snapped, twisting around in her seat.
The women blinked innocently. “Oh, nothing, dear. Just speculating.”
Speculating..?
Speculating?!
That word had haunted her for weeks now. The whole nation had seemingly made it their mission to pair her with Navia and Clorinde, and no amount of public denials seemed to quell their enthusiasm.
Over the next few days, the teasing only intensified from the people of Fontaine. So she holed herself in her apartment until Neuvillette himself had to force her out.
One particularly bold vendor offered Furina a bouquet of Lakelight Lilies in ‘courtesy of her suitors’
Seriously?
“Do they not have anything better to do?” Furina groaned to Neuvillette as they walked through the crowded plaza.
“I think it’s endearing,” he replied, his tone mild.
“Of course you would,” she muttered, eyeing a group of women whispering and pointing in their direction.
By evening, as Furina stood alone in front of the Fountain of Lucine, she was startled by Navia and Clorinde appearing on either side of her.
“You’re going to catch a cold,” Navia said gently, laying a coat by her shoulders. Furina briefly tensed at the contact, but didn’t say anything in return. They stayed quiet for a while, enjoying the tranquility of the night, that is until Clorinde decided to break the silence. “You’ve been avoiding us.” Her voice soft and tender.
“I’m not avoiding anything,” Furina lied, crossing her arms.
Navia raised an eyebrow. “Then mind explaining why you have been hiding in your apartment?”
Furina flushed but said nothing.
Navia reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind Furina’s ear. The gesture was so tender that Furina froze, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
“Furina,” Navia said, her voice barely above a whisper. “We only want you to be happy.”
Clorinde’s gaze softened. “You deserve that much.”
From somewhere in the distance, a small crowd of Fontainians erupted into cheers, clearly having eavesdropped on the entire conversation.
You have got to be kidding—?!
“Oh, come on!” Furina shouted, her voice cracking as she whipped around to glare at the onlookers.
Navia laughed, her eyes shining with affection. “I think they approve.”
Clorinde smirked. “Not that we needed their approval.”
Furina’s cheeks burned as she stared at them, utterly overwhelmed. “You’re both ridiculous.”
But even as she said it, a small, reluctant smile tugged at her lips.
Few days later after their reconciliation —if you could even call it that. Navia and Clorinde visited Furina’s troupe, they expected a casual, pleasant outing. After all, the former Archon had mention she had been working another play.
What they did not expect was to find Furina onstage, dressed in an elegant, dark costume that seemed ripped straight from the pages of a gothic melodrama. She held a prop rapier, her expression sharp and commanding as she delivered a line dripping with malice.
“You dare to defy me?” Furina hissed, her voice silky and dangerous as she stepped closer to a trembling actor pretending to cower. “I’ll have your head served on a silver platter before the first bell tolls!”
The actor gasped dramatically, sinking to their knees.
Navia’s breath hitched. “Oh.”
Clorinde crossed her arms, her usually calm expression faltering as her gaze lingered on Furina. “She’s… very convincing.”
Lauwick, who had been observing from the sidelines, noticed the subtle reactions and grinned mischievously. He sidled up to Navia and Clorinde. “Impressive, isn’t she? Our Miss Furina has quite the knack for villainy.”
“She certainly does,” Navia murmured, her voice almost dreamy.
“Oh, don’t let her catch you staring like that,” Pauleau chimed in, appearing on Navia’s other side with a sly smirk. “She’ll only use it against you later.”
Clorinde shot him a sharp look, but her reddening ears did not give the intended results.
Dulphy joined the fray, dramatically clasping her hands to her chest. “The passion! The power! Truly, no one can resist her when she’s in this form.” She leaned closer to Navia and Clorinde, her eyes twinkling. “Not even the likes of you two, it seems.”
Navia chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “Its just… surprising, that’s all.”
“Surprised, huh?” Pauleau asked, feigning innocence. “Surprised that she’s talented? Or surprised that she could steal your breath away?” He asked with a wide grin
Before Navia could stammer out a response, Furina turned to face the group, her piercing gaze landing squarely on them. Her lips curled into a slow, wicked smile.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled, descending the stage steps with an exaggerated flourish of her cape. “If it isn’t my admirers.”
Navia blinked. “We’re not—”
“Admirers?” Clorinde cut in, her voice unusually tight. “That’s… not the word I’d use.”
Furina tilted her head, her expression mockingly innocent. “Oh? Then why do you both look so…flustered? Hmm?” The corner of her lips quirked up.
The troupe erupted into laughter, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Clorinde and Navia flustered beyond belief.
“Perhaps they were picturing themselves as the hapless hero in your scene, kneeling before you and completely at your mercy.” Dulphy said, waggling her eyebrows.
Pauleau added, “Or maybe the villain’s love-struck minions?”
Navia buried her face in her hands, her laughter muffled, unable to stop herself from the absurdity of it all. “You’re all impossible,”
Later that evening, Navia and Clorinde cornered Furina in the studio’s private lounge.
“You did that on purpose,” Clorinde accused, her tone flat but her cheeks still faintly pink.
Furina leaned back in her chair, a self-satisfied smirk on her lips. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Navia folded her arms, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward. “You enjoyed every second of that, didn’t you?”
Furina offered no reply, simply grinned up at them, her gaze filled with amusement, a knowing glint in her oh-so charming, mismatched eyes.
Oh.
She’s completely aware.
How dangerous.
Few days has passed, Navia and Clorinde alongside Aether and Paimon, strolled through the streets, they were greeted with waves, winks, and knowing smiles.
Aether, who had recently returned to Fontaine, has been told of what has been happening in Fontaine, decided that he too could join in the chaos.
“Don’t give up, Miss Navia!” shouted a flower vendor.
“You’ve got this, Miss Clorinde!” a group of children cheered.
Navia laughed, shaking her head. “We might have to thank Furina for building us such a loyal fanbase.”
Clorinde smirked. “Let’s just make sure we don’t let them down.”
It was a crisp Fontaine morning, the kind where the air carried a slight chill and the streets were just beginning to bustle. Aether, with Paimon floating determinedly by his side, marched up to Furina’s apartment building, flanked by Navia and Clorinde.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Navia asked, though her amused smile betrayed her interest.
“It’ll be fine,” Aether replied, knocking firmly on Furina’s door.
When there was no answer, Paimon piped up, “Maybe she’s still sleeping?”
Aether sighed and started banging on the door with both fists. “Furina! Open up!”
Several heads turned to the commotion and passersby stopped to watch. After all, it wasn’t every day you saw the Traveler pounding on the ex-Archon’s door with such fervor.
There was a loud crash from inside, followed by rapid footsteps. The door swung open to reveal Furina, looking like she hasn’t slept a wink.
She was dressed in loose pajama pants decorated with a pattern of sharks, a tank top, and a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose. Her hair was a tousled mess, as if she’d been running her hands through it all night, and there was an ink stain smeared across her cheek.
“What is wrong with you?!” she snapped, glaring at Aether as she leaned on the doorframe. “Do you delight in disturbing my peace?”
Aether blinked, momentarily stunned by her disheveled appearance. “Uh…”
Before he could respond, Furina launched into a tirade in rapid Fontanian. Her words were too fast and too furious for him to follow, but her tone made it abundantly clear she was not happy.
“Es-tu fou?!” she ranted, throwing her hands in the air. “Tu arrives ici sans prévenir, à une heure aussi absurde, pour m’embêter avec tes absurdités!”
(Are you mad?!)
( You come here without warning, at such an absurd hour, to bother me with your nonsense!)
“Uh… Paimon doesn’t think she’s speaking Teyvat’s common language anymore,” Paimon whispered, tugging on Aether’s sleeve.
Aether waved her off, trying his best to look apologetic. “Furina, I just wanted to—”
“Wanted to what? Ruin my morning?” she interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose before huffing and grabbing Aether’s ear and twisting it.
“OW, OW, OW!” Aether yelped, flailing as she dragged him into her apartment.
Navia and Clorinde, still standing in the doorway, exchanged bemused glances. Navia’s lips twitched upward. “Well, that was… unexpected.”
Clorinde, for her part, didn’t say a word. Her usually impassive expression was betrayed by the faintest blush dusting her cheeks as her eyes briefly flickered over Furina’s bare shoulders and toned midriff.
Before they could fully process the sight, Furina emerged again, still gripping Aether by the ear. “And you two!” she barked, pointing accusingly at Navia and Clorinde.
“Us?” Navia asked, raising an eyebrow, doing her best to suppress her laughter.
“Yes, you!” Furina’s glare was impressive, even in her current state. “What are you doing here, enabling this… intrusion?”
“We were invited,” Clorinde replied, her tone calm but her gaze softening as she looked at Furina.
Furina scowled, clearly unimpressed with the answer. “Of course you were.”
By now, a small crowd had gathered outside the apartment, watching the scene unfold with growing amusement.
“I’d pay to see this every morning.” Estelle, the owner of Beaumont Workshop, quipped from across the street, grinning in delight.
Furina, noticing the growing crowd, groaned loudly. “Why does this always happen? Can I not have one moment of peace in my own home?!”
“That’s what you get for being Fontaine’s sweetheart,” Navia teased, stepping into the apartment and giving Furina a reassuring smile.
“Sweetheart huh?” Furina huffed, crossing her arms. “Is that so? Then why am I getting tormented by you people?”
“It’s simply because we like you!” Navia said cheerfully.
Clorinde stepped inside as well, her eyes sweeping over the messy apartment—stacks of scripts and papers littered every surface, with inkpots and quills scattered haphazardly. “Were you up all night working again?”
“That’s none of your business,” Furina muttered, suddenly self-conscious.
Navia chuckled softly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
What.
“Huh?!” Furina’s face turned bright red, and she scrambled for a retort, but before she could, the crowd outside burst into applause.
“Did you hear that? Navia called her cute!”
“Someone write that down for the next gossip column!”
“Fontaine’s couple of the century—no, the millennia!”
Furina groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “This nation is insufferable.”
“You love it anyway,” Navia teased, stepping closer and brushing an ink stain from Furina’s cheek.
Clorinde, meanwhile, crouched down to gather some abandoned script from the floor. “You should be careful to not leave your scripts carelessly, you don’t want an accident to happen, no?” she said with an affectionate smile, handing it to Furina.
Their fingers brushed, and Furina’s breath hitched. “I… yeah, thank you.”
Outside, the cheers grew louder. Someone even started a chant: “KISS! KISS! KISS!”
Furina let out a strangled noise. “You’re all barbarians!”
Navia leaned closer, her voice low and teasing. “Should we give them what they want?”
Furina’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as she leaned back. “OUT! All of you, OUT!”
Aether, finally freed from her grip, laughed as he ducked out the door. “See you later, Furina!”
Navia and Clorinde followed reluctantly, both smiling as they glanced back at her.
As Furina slammed the door behind them, she leaned against it and slid to the floor, burying her face in her hands.
“Insufferable,” she muttered. But deep down, a small, traitorous smile tugged at her lips.
By midday, Fontaine was in a frenzy. The morning’s scene outside Furina’s apartment had spread like wildfire, and every café, shop, and street corner were abuzz with exaggerated retellings.
“Navia practically called her their sweetheart! And Clorinde—you should’ve seen how flustered she was!”
Lyney, ever the opportunist, couldn’t resist joining in on the fun. “Such a public affair!” he declared dramatically, standing on an empty crate to address a growing crowd near the Fountain of Lucine. “Two dazzling suitors vying for the hand of our dear ex-Archon… and she makes them blush with a single glance!”
Lynette sighed, tugging at his sleeve. “Do you have to?”
“Of course!” Lyney replied cheerfully. “It’s good for morale.”
Freminet, who had been quietly tinkering with a diving mechanism, looked up with a faint smile. “Navia and Clorinde do seem happier lately.”
“They’re in love, of course they’re happy,” Lyney quipped, winking at an elderly woman who was clearly hanging on his every word.
“Do you think she’ll choose one of them?” one of the bright-eyed children asked.
“Oh, she’ll choose alright,” Lyney said with a smirk. “Eventually. But knowing Furina, she’ll make them suffer a little first.”
The crowd roared with laughter, and even Lynette’s lips twitched in amusement.
Not far from the bustling crowd, Arlecchino leaned against a lamppost, arms crossed, watching the chaos unfold with her usual stony expression. She’d just come home to Fontaine from a business, but it was impossible to ignore the city’s collective fascination with Furina’s love life.
Lyney spotted her and immediately bounded over, his grin widening. “Ah, Father! Come to join the festivities?”
“Hardly,” Arlecchino replied, raising an eyebrow. “I fail to see why everyone is so invested in such a trivial matter.”
“It’s not trivial,” Lyney said, gesturing grandly to the crowd. “It’s the greatest love story Fontaine has ever known! Or at least, the most entertaining one.”
Lynette and Freminet approached, the latter fidgeting with his scarf. “It’s… kind of nice,” Freminet said softly. “Everyone cheering them on.”
Arlecchino huffed, but there was a faint glimmer of reluctant amusement in her eyes. “If the people of Fontaine put half as much energy into practical matters as they do into gossip, this nation would be unstoppable.”
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that?” Lyney asked, his grin mischievous. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little curious.”
Arlecchino didn’t dignify that with a response, but her lack of immediate denial spoke volumes.
As the sun set over the city, the people of Fontaine remained as dedicated as ever to their new national pastime: rooting for Navia and Clorinde.
“They’re good for her,” a café owner remarked, serving a customer.
“And she’s good for them,” the customer replied. “They perfectly balance out eachother out.”
Meanwhile, Navia and Clorinde lingered near Furina’s apartment, sharing a quiet moment amidst the commotion.
“She’s quite a handful.” Navia said with a laugh.
Clorinde nodded. “But worth it.”
And somewhere inside, Furina sat at her desk, scribbling furiously at her scripts. She’s muttering to herself, her cheeks still pink from the day’s events, but the smile tugging at her lips told another story entirely.
The next day started much the same as the last—with Aether showing up uninvited, though this time accompanied by a few too many familiar faces.
What in the actual...?
“Why is everyone here?!” Furina exclaimed as she opened the door to find Aether, Paimon, Navia, Clorinde, and even the House of the Hearth siblings.
“Well, you never leave your house,” Aether said with a shrug. “We figured we’d bring ourselves to you.”
“And the rest of Fontaine apparently,” Paimon added, gesturing to the growing crowd that had somehow already formed behind them.
What.
“Why?!” Furina asked, her hands tugging at her unkempt hair.
“Because it’s fun!” Lyney quipped, twirling a rainbow rose that he’d undoubtedly stolen from a vendor on the way.
Navia and Clorinde, meanwhile, seemed entirely unbothered by the commotion. If anything, they looked amused as they stepped inside, brushing past Furina.
“Are you always this dramatic in the morning?” Navia teased, setting down a small basket of pastries on the counter.
“Dramatic?” Furina sputtered, slamming the door behind her, closing it on the others. “You invaded my home!”
Clorinde raised an eyebrow, her gaze flicking to the cluttered desk piled high with scripts and notes. “Have you been working all night again?”
Furina crossed her arms, her blush creeping up her neck. “What I do is none of your business.”
Navia leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful tone. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”
“Cute?!” Furina’s voice cracked, sounding like a malfunctioning gardemek for a moment.
From outside the apartment, someone shouted, voice unmistakable Aether’s, “NAVIA SAID SHE’S CUTE AGAIN!”
Another voice followed, Lyney’s no doubt, “CLORINDE, DO SOMETHING!”
Clorinde smirked, clearly enjoying Furina’s reaction. “What would you like me to do?”
“Nothing.” Furina deadpanned, she then grabbed the both of them to shove them out the door, as she opened it however, she was greeted with a sight of Aether and Lyney alongside many others trying to eavesdrop.
Dumbfounded as she was, she quickly recovered and grabbed Aether by the ears—again, to pull him in while simultaneously pushing Navia and Clorinde out her door.
Outside, the city’s rumor mill was in full swing. Street vendors had set up stalls selling “Team Navia” and “Team Clorinde” merchandise—shirts, mugs, and even little plushies of them.
At the Café Lutece, the regulars had taken up a betting pool.
“Navia’s going to win,” one of them said confidently.
“Are you kidding? Clorinde’s charm is unmatched,” another countered.
“Should we… intervene?” Navia asked, though her tone suggested she was in no rush to stop the spectacle.
“Let them be,” Clorinde replied, her lips curving into the faintest smirk. “They seem happy enough.”
The House of the Hearth trio appeared then, Lyney cheerfully waving a both a “Team Clorinde” and “Team Navia” flag. “Look who we found!” he called, dragging Charlotte with him, the girl was practically vibrating on the spot, looking all too excited at the spectacle, no doubt her mind racing with ideas on what report.
Charlotte wasted no time as she ran up to some bystanders, her hand gesturing excitedly as she asks, furiously writing in her notepad.
“Oh no.” Navia shook her head, a faint smirk forming, “What have you done, Lyney?”
Lyney guffawed. “What? It’s already happening, yes? Might as well get our illustrious reporter on the case!”
Amidst the chaos outside, Furina found herself alone with Aether in a rare moment of quiet.
“I don’t get it,” she admitted, pacing the length of her living room. “Why are they doing this? Why are they so…” She trailed off, her hands gesturing wildly as if trying to pluck the right word from the air.
“Kind? Supportive? Completely in love with you?” Aether offered, smirking.
Furina froze, her cheeks flushing. “That’s… That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Aether asked, leaning back against the couch. “Because everyone else seems to think it’s obvious.”
Furina sighed, collapsing in a heap onto the nearest chair. “It’s not that simple,” she said, her voice quieter now. “I’m not… I don’t know.”
“Don’t know what?” Aether gently coaxed out.
“I-,” she started, only for her words to die in her throat. “I don’t know how to do this, let people care about me.” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Aether’s expression softened. “Maybe it’s not something you have to figure out alone.”
That evening, Navia and Clorinde returned, this time without an entourage.
“We thought we’d give you some peace,” Navia said as she set down another basket of homemade pastries on her counter.
Furina crossed her arms, trying to ignore the way her heart fluttered. “Peace? After everything you two have put me through?”
Clorinde stepped closer, her gaze steady. “We just want you to know we’re serious about this—about you.”
Furina opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. She looked between them, their sincerity written in every line of their faces, and for once, she found herself at a loss.
“I…” she begun, only end in failure to find her words.
Navia, ever so observant, smiled gently. “You don’t have to say anything right now. Just… think about it.”
As they turned to leave, Furina called out, her voice trembling slightly. “Wait.”
They stopped, turning back to her.
Furina hesitated, her hands fidgeting nervously. “Thank you,” she said finally. “For… for caring.”
Navia’s smile widened, and even Clorinde’s expression softened.
Outside, someone whispered loudly, “Did you hear that? She thanked them!”
“Do you think this means she’s finally going to—”
“QUIET!” Furina bellowed, slamming the door and sinking against it, her face buried in her hands.
Furina sighed dramatically, adjusting her gloves as she and Aether descended into the overgrown ruins tucked away in a forgotten corner of Fontaine’s countryside. “This is utterly barbaric, you know,” she said, eyeing the crumbling archways with a mix of disdain and curiosity. “Dragging me out here, into the wilderness. Don’t you have someone else to torment?”
Aether grinned, stepping carefully over a moss-covered stone. “You were sulking.”
“I was working,” Furina corrected, holding her chin high.
“You were pacing around your apartment, glaring at the door like it personally offended you.”
Furina narrowed her eyes. “Because it did. That door has seen far too much drama lately.”
Aether chuckled, but Furina’s glare quickly melted into curiosity as they entered a grand chamber, sunlight streaming through cracks in the stone ceiling. Intricate carvings lined the walls, and a faint hum of Hydro energy pulsed through the air.
“Hmm,” Furina said, stepping forward and squinting at the carvings. “Not bad. I’d give it a seven out of ten.”
Aether raised an eyebrow. “You’re rating ancient ruins now?”
“Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “As the former Archon, it’s my duty to uphold Fontaine’s standards. Even when they’re long forgotten.”
As they explored deeper, Furina’s dramatic complaints gave way to genuine wonder. She peppered Aether with questions about the architecture, the inscriptions, and the faint traces of elemental energy lingering in the air.
By the time they emerged back into the sunlight, Furina looked… lighter. There was a faint smile on her lips, and her usual tension seemed to have eased.
“You’re welcome,” Aether said, smirking.
“For what?”
“For distracting you,” he said, gesturing to the ruins behind them.
Furina huffed, tossing her hair. “Don’t flatter yourself. I was merely indulging your need for companionship.”
But as they made their way back to the city, her expression softened.
Back in Fontaine, Navia and Clorinde were… not handling Furina’s absence well.
“She didn’t even tell us she was leaving,” Navia muttered, her head nestled under Clorinde’s jaw, poking at her half-eaten pastry as she sat at Café Lutece.
Clorinde, resting her chin atop of Navia’s head, remained silent but had been staring at her untouched cup of tea for the past fifteen minutes.
The citizens of Fontaine, naturally, took notice.
“Do you think they miss her?” a baker whispered to his wife.
“Miss her? Look at them. They’re practically lovesick,” she replied, nodding toward the café.
“They’re just about as lost without her.” a passerby whispered to his companion.
“Do you think they’ll start counting the hours until she’s back?” they teased.
Across a few tables over, a group of students were hanging out.
“Do you think they’ll confess when she gets back?” one of them asked.
“They’d better,” another replied. “The suspense is killing me.”
Even the House of the Hearth trio joined in the teasing. Lyney, ever the performer, strolled up to Navia and Clorinde’s table with a dramatic flourish. “I must say, you two are putting on quite the show.”
“What are you talking about?” Navia asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The tragic pining. The longing sighs. It’s almost as if the sun itself refuses to shine in her absence,” Lyney said, grinning.
Clorinde shot him a withering look. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
Lynette and Freminet approached then, Lynette sipping her tea with an air of indifference while Freminet fidgeted nervously.
“She’ll be back soon,” Lynette said simply.
Freminet nodded. “She wouldn’t stay away for too long.”
Navia and Clorinde exchanged glances but said nothing, their expressions betraying their agreement.
When Furina and Aether returned to Fontaine later that evening, they were greeted with an impromptu parade—or at least, it felt like one. Word had spread quickly, and the streets were once again packed with citizens eager to see their ex-Archon reunited with her “admirers.”
Furina groaned as she stepped off the Aquabus, immediately bombarded by cheers and shouts.
“FURINA’S BACK!”
“NOW THEY CAN FINALLY KISS!”
Aether chuckled, giving her a gentle nudge. “Looks like you’re the main event again.”
“Why is this my life?” Furina muttered, burying her face in her hands.
As they made their way through the crowd, Navia and Clorinde appeared, both visibly relieved to see her.
Furina stopped in her tracks when she saw them. Something about the way they looked at her made her stomach flip—Navia’s expression warm and open, Clorinde’s steady but… soft, in a way she hadn’t seen before.
“You’re back,” Navia said, her voice quieter than usual. She smiled, but there was a slight tremor in her voice, as though she was holding something back. “We were starting to think you’d gone off to Liyue or Sumeru without saying goodbye.”
Furina blinked. “What? Of course not. I was just… exploring some ruins with Aether.”
Clorinde stepped forward then, her gaze locked on Furina’s. “You could have told us.” Her words were calm, but there was an edge of vulnerability beneath them. “We were worried about you.”
Furina’s heart skipped. She was suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were standing—Navia on her left, Clorinde on her right. The air between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken words.
Before she could respond, someone in the crowd shouted, “NAVIA, TELL HER YOU MISSED HER!”
Navia flushed but didn’t look away. “I did miss you,” she admitted, her voice steady despite the growing crowd. “More than I expected.”
“CLORINDE, YOUR TURN!”
Clorinde’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, it seemed she might walk away. But then she sighed softly and said, “I missed you too. The city didn’t feel the same without you.”
Furina froze, her breath catching. Her mind scrambled for a response, but nothing came. Around them, Fontaine’s citizens erupted into cheers and whoops.
“THEY FINALLY SAID IT!”
“NOW KISS HER!”
“CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS HAPPENING IN OUR LIFETIME?”
The noise of the crowd was unbearable. The heat of their gazes, the weight of Navia’s words, the tenderness in Clorinde’s tone—it was all too much.
“Enough!” Furina snapped, whirling around to face the gathered crowd. “Have you all nothing better to do?!”
“Not really!” someone shouted back, earning a wave of laughter.
Furina groaned, burying her face in her hands. When she lowered them, Navia and Clorinde were still standing there, watching her with the kind of patience that only made her heart ache more.
She took a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly. “You said missed me,” she said, her voice softer now. “Did- did you mean that?”
Navia nodded. “Of course we did.”
Clorinde stepped closer. “How could we not?”
Furina’s heart thundered in her chest. For weeks, they had been so kind, so persistent, so present. They had shown her warmth and devotion she didn’t know how to accept, let alone reciprocate. But now…
Something inside her snapped—not in anger, but in resolve. She had been running from this, from them, for too long.
Without another word, Furina stepped forward, grabbed Navia by the front of her jacket, and pulled her into a kiss.
The crowd gasped, then erupted into wild cheers and applause. Someone started waving a “Team Navia” flag so vigorously that it knocked over a nearby fruit stand.
When Furina pulled back, Navia looked utterly stunned, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in surprise. But there was no time to react, because Furina turned to Clorinde next.
“You too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
Before Clorinde could process what was happening, Furina leaned in and kissed her as well. It was softer, slower, but no less deliberate.
The cheers grew deafening.
For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The cheers of the crowd faded into the background, and all Furina could hear was the wild hammering of her own heart as she stood between Navia and Clorinde.
She could hardly believe what she had just done. Her lips tingled faintly, and her hands—still trembling—hung awkwardly at her sides.
Navia, still visibly stunned, blinked rapidly before a wide smile broke across her face. “Well,” she said, her voice warm and teasing, “that’s one way to make an entrance.”
Clorinde, meanwhile, was less composed. Her stoic demeanor had cracked entirely, her cheeks glowing red as she stared at Furina with wide eyes. “You… kissed both of us, infront of everyone...” she murmured, her tone laced with disbelief.
Furina felt her cheeks burn. “What of it?” she said quickly, crossing her arms in a feeble attempt to regain her usual bravado. “You’ve been driving me insane for weeks. It was about time I do something about it.”
“Is that what that was?” Navia asked, her grin softening into something more tender. She stepped closer, her fingers brushing against Furina’s arm. “Because it felt a lot like something else.”
Clorinde’s voice, steadier now, cut in. “Navia’s right. That wasn’t just for show.”
Furina opened her mouth to argue but found herself at a loss for words. She glanced between them, their gazes so steady, so full of care, and felt her resolve crumbling.
From the crowd, someone shouted, “IS SHE GOING TO SAY SHE LOVES THEM?!”
“DO YOU THINK SHE’LL RUN AWAY AGAIN?” another voice chimed in.
“QUIET!” Furina bellowed, turning to glare at the gathered Fontainians. “Must you always meddle in my affairs?”
“YES!” came the unanimous reply, followed by raucous laughter.
Furina groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I despise this nation sometimes,” she muttered.
Navia chuckled softly, her hand still resting lightly on Furina’s arm. “Don’t be too hard on them. They’re just rooting for us.”
Clorinde stepped forward as well, her usual coolness replaced with something almost shy, her gaze steady on Furina.
Furina tensed, her breath catching, before releasing a shaky exhale, “You two… You’re serious about this?” she asked, her voice trembling despite herself.
“Of course we are,” Navia said, her smile gentle but unwavering. “We’ve been serious from the start.”
“And we’ll wait as long as you need,” Clorinde added, her tone firm but kind.
Furina’s chest tightened. For weeks, she’d tried to brush off their advances as playful teasing, something fleeting and insubstantial. But now, faced with their sincerity, she felt her defenses cracking.
“I don’t know how to do this,” she admitted softly, her gaze dropping to the cobblestones.
Navia reached out, tilting Furina’s chin up so their eyes met. “You don’t have to do it alone,” she said. “We’re here. Together.”
Clorinde nodded, her expression softening. “We’ll figure it out with you.”
Before Furina could respond, the crowd burst into applause again. Someone tossed a bouquet of flowers that landed awkwardly at their feet, and a street performer struck up an impromptu love ballad on a violin.
Oh, for the love of—
“THEY’RE FINALLY TOGETHER!”
“I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!”
Navia burst out laughing, her hand flying to her mouth as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. Even Clorinde cracked a small, amused smile, though she quickly tried to hide it behind her hand.
Furina, meanwhile, looked as if she might combust on the spot. “I am never leaving my apartment again,” she muttered, her voice a mix of exasperation and mortification.
Navia’s laughter softened as she reached out to take Furina’s hand. “Come on,” she said, her voice warm and full of affection. “Let’s get out of here.”
Clorinde nodded, placing a gentle hand on Furina’s back as they began to walk away from the chaos. The crowd cheered louder as they left, but Furina—caught between Navia and Clorinde—felt her nerves begin to settle.
For the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could work.