Chapter Text
Furina lives with Wriothesley for a little under two weeks, and Neuvillette visits.
Wriothesley knocks on her door sometime in the afternoon, when Furina has just woken up and she’s trying to muster energy to make food and feel human, and she lets him in. He stands by the door and says, “Neuvillette is here to see you.”
She freezes.
How did he- no. She should’ve expected he’d figure it out - he got his information from Melusines, who were as prevalent in Fontaine society as humans were. Neuvillette had eyes everywhere, even if he was rather deceptive about the impact of that fact.
She hasn’t talked to him since the trial. She hasn’t gone into the Palais Mermonia or the Opera Epiclese - rather, she’s done all she can to avoid those specific places.
She has gone shopping on the surface, especially in the week before she talked to Wriothesley, but surprisingly she hasn’t seen Neuvillette when she did. It’s a question of whether he saw her, however.
Her last impression of Neuvillette - declaring her guilty. Her judge, jury, and executioner.
They didn’t part on great terms. Neuvillette made up with Focalors - that was Focalors’ plan. Furina was only the human pawn - she did not have a part in anything except the betrayal that burned through her and the centuries-old well of pain she’d nurtured.
She does not want to talk to anyone associated with her trial.
Wriothesley speaks up in her silence, noticing how she’s frozen, noticing the slight catch of her breath. “I can turn him away, you know,” he offers gently.
She should talk to Neuvillette. One trial didn’t- shouldn’t- eclipse five hundred years of acquaintance.
She does not want to talk to anyone associated with her trial.
“Yes,” she says. “Turn him away. I- I don’t- not right now. On my own terms. I’ll find him later.”
Find him. She knows exactly where Neuvillette haunts, by heart.
She ignores the pang of guilt at that - she knows him so well, she should be able to talk to him. Should. Doesn’t want to.
Wriothesley said to her once that she can do whatever she wants, now. Actually whatever she wants - not constrained by status or a schedule or keeping up a five hundred year long lie.
Furina is trying to do what she wants.
She doesn’t notice Wriothesley has disappeared from the doorway until she glances over and the door clicks shut softly.
Her hands are shaking slightly - she exhales slowly, closes her eyes, forces her hands to release her blankets, and lays back down.
“Lady Furina has declined your request.”
Wriothesley sits back down at his desk, facing Neuvillette, ignoring the high raise of both eyebrows.
“She-“ Neuvillette stops. He considers. Wriothesley stays silent, pulling over a form he has to sign and beginning to read it while Neuvillette parses through his centuries of experience with humans.
Finally, a hesitant breath, equally hesitant tone- “You’re not keeping her-“
Wriothesley’s gaze flicks up to him. He narrows his eyes. “Keeping her what?”
Neuvillette’s eyes betray him, flicking up the staircase, then back to the Duke, whose gaze hasn’t strayed from Neuvillette’s face. “She is upstairs?”
“Yes.” Wriothesley shifts in his seat. He tilts his head slightly, searching the Iudex’s face.
Keeping her locked up, is what Neuvillette meant. Wriothesley isn’t stupid. He’s well aware that he and Neuvillette are on purely formal terms - the Iudex is perhaps the second most controversial figure in Fontaine, right next to Furina. His convicts dislike Neuvillette; Fontaine respects and perhaps even likes him; Wriothesley is a blend of both worlds and both feelings.
There are still assumptions of character made between them both.
“Iudex,” he says, and Neuvillette’s gaze turns to him. His voice is almost gentle, if not for the barest hint of threat laced underneath. “Think of your next words carefully.”
Neuvillette nods, lowering his eyes. “Apologies.” And lifting his gaze back up to Wriothesley, set on his course. “I am making assumptions. I will return later to ask again.”
Wriothesley picks his pen back up. “She said she would like to do it on her own terms. She will find you.”
Another nod, and then- “Well, I’ve found you.”
Both Wriothesley and Neuvillette look up to see Furina descending the stairs. Neuvillette’s weight shifts on his feet; Wriothesley turns in his chair and interrupts-
“Furina,” he starts-
She waves him off with a hand, laughing loudly - too loudly, Wriothesley notes. “It’s fine! Iudex, I haven’t seen you in a while! What, have you been avoiding me~?”
Neuvillette looks down at her as she stops in front of him. Wriothesley frowns, glancing between the two, lingering on Furina.
Neuvillette’s expression is unreadable. There's sympathy there, mixed with affection, mixed with a very, very faint irritation, mixed with slight uncertainty.
Furina straightens her posture, laces her hands behind her back all on reflex. She isn’t sure who she is right now- Furina, or the Hydro Archon, or some combination of both.
Neuvillette decides to ignore her first question. “Furina,” he says, and there’s so much care in his tone, “if you found your apartment unsatisfactory, I could provide you with better accommodations. You need not come to the Fortress of Meropide to live.”
He obviously means well. There is so much care and affection in his tone that it makes Furina’s stomach twist with unfounded guilt.
She shakes her head, breaking eye contact in favor of the floor. Her mouth twists halfway into a smile, drops again, and then lifts once more, and none of that emotion makes it into her voice, suddenly quiet compared to how loud she’d been on the way down. “No, I- I came down here willingly. I chose it.” Her voice abruptly cuts out, words leaving her, and she doesn’t look back up at Neuvillette.
He pauses, before eventually- “I… suppose I don’t understand why you would choose Fontaine’s underwater prison.”
Wriothesley speaks up before she can, a flat, cold mutter. “Well, she didn’t get a single apology - makes sense she’d want to see someone who didn’t betray her.”
“Wriothesley,” Furina and Neuvillette say at the same time. Furina is chiding - Neuvillette is shocked, seemingly finding it a new experience to not be utterly respected by Wriothesley.
Furina remembers a thought she’d had before- Wriothesley works on an ‘innocent until proven guilty’ basis- and immediately shoves down the thought that not apologizing to her is what makes Wriothesley mark Neuvillette as ‘guilty.’
Instead, she meets Wriothesley’s gaze. His eyes flick briefly to Neuvillette, before then to her, and they linger. She watches his jaw tick, and finally he leans back in his chair. “I apologize,” he says quietly. “Go on.”
Furina blinks. He said that to her, not to Neuvillette.
She abruptly realizes Wriothesley took the warning from her, blatantly ignoring Neuvillette’s own disapproval.
Something inside her flips, and then she’s grinning and gesturing dramatically, and her voice is too loud, and Furina is halfway outside of herself. “Anyway!” she interrupts, looking back at Neuvillette, painted with false cheer. “What is it you wanted to see me for? As you said, Fontaine’s underwater prison isn’t exactly a pleasant place to be in~”
Out of the corner of her eye, Wriothesley’s expression flickers, eyes on her for a few long moments, before he abruptly stands up and turns to begin making tea.
That was mean, she chides herself. It doesn’t stop her from never breaking her gaze from Neuvillette, and doesn’t stop the wide grin spread across her face.
Neuvillette looks suitably disarmed, glancing between her and Wriothesley. Furina can tell when he’s flipping between two different personalities and approaches to a situation, and that’s quite obviously what he’s doing, trying to figure out what to point out or not.
Eventually, Neuvillette seems to settle on formal, abandoning emotional in order to straighten slightly. Good, Furina thinks. Her cheeks hurt from smiling.
“I came to see how you were doing,” he tells her. She nods. Make the eyes sparkle. Smile just right. Friendly and approachable.
Ignore the nausea.
“Oh, I’m fine!” Furina laughs and pulls out a chair, Neuvillette following suit to take the other armchair by Wriothesley’s desk. Wriothesley himself is faced away from them still, apparently intently focused on watching the kettle boil. “I just-“
She stops, throat closing up. Her smile falters and Neuvillette’s form blurs in front of her, gaze unfocusing to see past him. She physically can’t finish the sentence. Her grin is slowly falling, fading before returning, fading again and returning a little smaller.
Until she isn’t smiling. “I just- w-was-“ Furina swallows hard. Come on. Perform, Furina.
I just was lonely.
“I asked her.”
Neuvillette and Furina both turn to look at Wriothesley. He’s holding two cups of tea, and Furina’s eyes are wide as he hands her one and offers Neuvillette the other. Nonchalant, eyes meeting hers briefly before spinning- a lie, she realizes.
“Sigewinne gets a little lonely here in the Fortress, and Lady Furina’s new status as human meant she was uniquely available. I asked Lady Furina if she’d like to talk with Sigewinne sometimes, and she offered moving in because of her newfound freedom.”
A blatant lie. None of that is even remotely true.
The alternative would be to tell Neuvillette that Furina was lonely, or Wriothesley was bored.
Wriothesley glances at her, not missing a beat. “New experiences, you called it?”
He even has a small, amused smirk on his face, teasing in his tone.
Furina finds herself suddenly present once more, fingers twitching around the hot cup of tea in her hands. She answers, turning to glance at Neuvillette- “Yes. I just wanted to try something new, that’s all. This is temporary.” She punctuates it with a perfect grin, a head tilt, spark in her eyes.
Neuvillette’s brows furrow. “Sigewinne has never mentioned being lonely to me.”
Wriothesley hums. “Call it less loneliness, and more that Sigewinne is a bit of a gossip, and who better to gossip with than the Hydro Archon?”
Furina nods, easily playing along, trying not to look at Wriothesley whatsoever. She also ignores the fact that she’s not dissociating anymore, that he seemed to flip some kind of switch that pulled her back into herself, made her heartbeat slow and made the nausea fade a little. “I didn’t exactly talk to the Melusines that much when I was Archon, Neuvillette.”
Neuvillette can’t deny that. He looks a little skeptical still, but their lie holds up, and after a few moments he accepts it. Furina takes a sip of her tea as he looks at her, intent, sincere. “I’m glad you are doing well, Furina.”
The tea burns as she swallows it. Peach flavored. It joins the guilt pangs in her stomach.
She smiles, punctuated with a giggle. “How have you been, my dear Iudex~?”
Wriothesley stands by as Furina says her farewell to Neuvillette, and he doesn’t even get a word in before she’s rounding on him, fixing mismatched blue eyes intently on him.
“You lied for me,” she says, low. There’s a note of confusion in there. “To the Iudex.”
He tilts his head, smirks a little. “Titles have never meant all that much to me. Besides, the alternative would’ve been to tell him I was bored.”
And that you were lonely, but you were clearly struggling with that.
Furina’s expression flickers. Her eyebrow twitches, corner of her mouth with it, before she finally settles on- “Why?”
Wriothesley frowns. She’s pushing at him. He ignores the discomfort that brings him, dozens of white lies springing to his tongue, the world flickering in and out between blinks. “I just told you why. I didn’t want to tell him I was bored.”
“And that you hurt yourself when you are,” she snaps back at him.
He barely has a chance to respond, the words only hitting at a deeply-buried part of him that maybe still feels, before she shakes her head. “S-sorry,” she corrects immediately, gaze lowering. Her hands begin to fidget in front of her. “I- sorry. I just- I insulted your Fortress. After everything you’ve done for me.” Her gaze lifts to meet his, brows furrowed, distress written across her face. “Why would you then lie for me like that?”
He blinks once. A lie jumps to his tongue, and Wriothesley opens his mouth, and-
“Because you have this reaction every time I do.”
That’s not what he meant to say.
It seems the buried part of him has more influence than he thought.
Fine. Wriothesley sorts out the discomfort, pulls it apart until he can turn his care into objective facts, a script to go by, all the right words to say. If he is now comforting Furina, then he will play the part.
He doesn’t need to have any emotional stakes in it.
Her eyes widen. “What?”
Wriothesley’s voice is steady, matter-of-fact. “Every time I do something for you, you question it. You seem surprised by it. Our first meeting, you were surprised I talked you through your breakdown. Our second meeting - refused to thank me for saving you from the Fatui, took me up on none of my offers of amenities, and then yelled at me the next morning for offering more amenities. Third meeting, you asked why I forgave you so easily and why I wanted to see you again. Fourth, you questioned why I let you sit in silence to recover and why I wanted to help you move.”
He takes a breath and finishes- “And fifth, you insulted the Fortress and my care once more, and immediately rounded on me to ask why I would help you.” He gestures at her current position standing on the other side of his desk.
She opens her mouth, speechless. Her entire body tenses, and Wriothesley watches as she abruptly goes on the defensive, arms hugging her torso.
“I-“
Furina starts shaking slightly, noticeable even to Wriothesley on the other side of the room. His eyebrows lift, and she tries words again, her shocked expression rapidly shifting between other emotions.
“I just-“ she looks down, “-I don’t-“
Anger flickers in her features, the furrow of her eyebrows and a flash in her eyes, a slight hardening of her tone- “It’s none of your business how I feel about it! I never asked you to- to-“
The anger dissipates as quickly as it arrived, replaced by uncertainty and an apologetic look. She shifts her weight on her feet, gaze flicking down once more, hands fidgeting before they anxiously cross over her chest again.
Panic attack. Wriothesley recognizes it, specifically Furina’s symptoms from the two earlier times she’s had it, and he rounds the desk, striding towards her.
“Furina,” he starts - gentle, not trying to startle her. He’s pushed too far already, especially given her fragile state after the conversation with Neuvillette.
“I- you shouldn’t-“
He reaches out, both hands curling over her arms, resting there loosely. “Furina.”
She takes a step forward, towards him, and Wriothesley pulls her with the momentum, until she buries her face in his chest and he wraps both arms around her.
Furina… Wriothesley may have never worshipped the gods all that much, but he wouldn’t wish what happened to her on anyone, god or human.
“What do you want from me?” she mumbles into his vest. She’s still trembling, voice shaky.
“Nothing,” he answers honestly. Her shoulders tense and he pulls back, sinking easily to the floor with her.
As she settles once more in his arms, his back against the wall, he tries to ignore the burning sensation every place she touches him, the spark of adrenaline just from the touch, his instincts telling him to defend himself - not recognizing that this touch is gentle.
“I don’t want anything from you, Furina,” he murmurs.
Her fist hits against his chest. “Then why - why are you-“ her voice hitches as her panic attack finally gives way to tears, sobs breaking through the words, “-you doing all of th- this-“
He knows he can’t get through to her. No matter what he says, she will find a flaw in it, something to question, to explain what possible thing he could want in return for helping her.
Because no one ever helped her selflessly. No one was around to save her for five hundred years, and the one man who sincerely tried did it in all the wrong ways from sheer lack of information.
“You can stop performing, Furina,” he says instead, low and gentle. Change the subject entirely, distract her. It’ll still help her in one way, if not the other.
She pauses for a moment. Her inhale is even, and her exhale shudders, and then she curls fingers into his vest and lets out another sob.
“‘M sorry,” she mumbles, “sorry, I didn’t mean- you’ve been so nice-“
“Shh,” he murmurs. Wriothesley lifts a hand to tangle into her hair, running through the short strands, and she falls silent save for her continuous sobs, shaking in his arms. Like this, she’s almost a child - wanting nothing more than to please everyone else, every little disagreement hitting where it hurts, apologizing for things she doesn’t need to.
And barely minutes earlier, she’d been snapping at him. He remembers their second conversation - she wanted to leave Fontaine, but who would ever deal with a girl stuck between lost, confused child and traumatized, five-hundred-year old Archon?
Wriothesley got himself willingly into this. Furina sought him out, and that display of trust after her nation and the people most important to her had so grievously let her down struck something in him.
The Fortress is a place for rebirth, and Wriothesley is more than happy to guide the path of the former Archon herself. As much as she’ll allow him to, at least.
He looks down at said former Archon, only just now noticing the abrupt quiet, and sees she’s… fallen asleep.
Wow. He freezes up, a little bit, several things occurring to him at once.
First- she was comfortable enough to lay with him for at least a few minutes after she regained her senses. It’s unlikely she passed out literally in the middle of crying - so she gradually stopped, and quieted, and… stayed with him.
Stayed, and realized she was tired, and decided here would be a good spot to pass out. On the floor, halfway in his lap, in his arms.
Second- she was so exhausted from all of this that she fell asleep just like that. One conversation with Neuvillette and a severe panic attack.
Wriothesley knows trauma responses, and he knows constant exhaustion is one of them. He knows how much Furina has been sleeping, how late she gets up and how early she goes back to bed. Not for the first time, he wishes she had never gone through what she did, if her trauma response is this extreme.
Third- he’ll have to get up eventually. And that means carrying her to a different place to sleep.
Wriothesley remembers a very similar situation that ended in him being scolded the next morning.
He gives a quiet sigh, leaning his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.
Eventually. He’ll get up eventually, and carry Furina to her bed, and then when she wakes up he’ll probably be scolded for it, because he did something nice for her. And his excuse will be that she was laying on top of him, delivered with just the right amount of tease to rile her up, but she can’t refute it, because she is on top of him…
Eventually.
For now, though, she lays still and quiet with him in his empty office, and he hasn’t been sleeping well - or at all the past few nights - and maybe… it’s worth it to stay here for a little bit.
He doesn’t want to wake her up, after all.