( is wriothesley teasing him? has he done something strange that he doesn't like? that split second of silence on wriothesley's side of the bond unleashes a spike of confusion and subsequent anxiety. the ways of humans are still a mystery to him, and their subtleties even more so. wriothesley cloaks himself in good humor and warmth, and a way of deflecting often has others in circles, but then he feels the rush of whimsy come flooding back, and relief tails that feeling, still tinged with gentle confusion.
but mostly dissipates to fondness, pure and unfettered, his fingers tracing light patterns over his chest. he tilts his head, curious at the words he'd chosen, the self-recrimination he hints at. the thanks is nice, but neuvillette is fixated on one particular detail, that wriothesley seems to think what he has done was wrong. )
Do you think you did something wrong because you believe that you've imposed on others?
[ a beat passes as wriothesley reconsiders his earlier reply, wondering if he can pass the admission off as another self-deprecating joke or if it deserves to be addressed plainly. the scrutiny he feels isn’t unfamiliar—sigewinne’s check-ins have the same sort of well-meaning sharpness—but there is little he can hide from neuvillette now, and the other isn’t pressing him into a corner for answers thankfully. this is simply new ground for both of them, something neither has likely shared with anyone else. so it seems only fair to examine the frayed ends of the thread before they try to unravel and make sense of it all together. ]
Well, it was certainly wrong of me to rush headfirst into the situation and make such a reckless play. But as for letting others take on the burden of helping me in the immediate fallout…
[ his emotions settle into a deliberate quiet. beneath the confident veneer he always presents, the feelings underneath shift like water—steady one moment, then undulating or rippling the next depending on what stirs the surface. he glances to the side, as though arranging his thoughts in the space beside neuvillette’s head until they fall into something workable. ]
I’ve spent too long in places where needing something, or someone, gets you noticed in ways that aren’t always safe. [ the wording is precise, meant to show this runs deeper than his history in the fortress. ] So it isn’t about assuming I’ve done something wrong, I suppose. It’s more about understanding the room I stand in. The Fortress watches its warden the way inmates watch one another—for cracks, for patterns, for permission. If I start leaning, even a little, it becomes something they measure. Something they test.
[ he's never once read the letters exchanged between neuvillette and sigewinne through the years, but the iudex knows well enough that the fortress runs on an entirely different set of rules than the courts or the overworld. and wriothesley has always met those rules with pragmatism and a realistic kind of insight. ]
I can offer that sort of comfort for others to rely on, but I’ve never felt free to take advantage of what I've built for myself.
( neuvillette is quietly thoughtful. there is something momentous in the way wriothesley peels back a layer, then another layer of himself just for him. he has always sensed how the man's frequently had others — even him, sometimes — at arm's length, and he understands.
it's a survival mechanism, and it takes as much courage to admit it as he did taking care of the katalyth as best as he can. he can feel the man pull back, like a tide from the shore, but neuvillette allows it. it must be shocking to him, knowing that they're connected without knowing, having to make space for another when he has always been accustomed to his own thoughts. )
You can, now. Here.
( neuvillette will make sure of that for him. wriothesley has spent so long putting others before him, and he can't help but run his fingers through his hair, pressing his forehead through his. )
[ short or trite as the reply might sound at first, it's carried with a smile and a slight lift of his head so he can brush a featherlight kiss against neuvillette's lips when the other leans close. for once, wriothesley doesn’t argue or undercut the moment with a teasing remark; coupled with the weight on his side of their bond settling into quiet acceptance. it’s a welcome reminder that here, in karteria, they are free of titles and the usual expectations—and free to carry on as just themselves. and the longer they live this particular life together, the more wriothesley has come to appreciate every facet of what they share, whether here or back in fontaine.
so he reaches out without further hesitation, with an arm loose around neuvillette’s waist while his other hand slips between their gazes to gently drag a thumb across the faint pinch in neuvillette’s brow, as if trying to ease the worry the other has worn ever since coming home battered earlier in the week. ]
Do know that sentiment extends to you as well. [ the nudge is soft but sincere, underscored by the slow circles he rubs into the dip of neuvillette’s back as the other hand threads fingers through a section of mussed hair, coaxing it straight and smooth again. ] So you can breathe easy now, mon beau. The worst has already come and gone.
[ wriothesley isn’t as direct as neuvillette when it comes to matters concerning certain feelings, but he’s learning to balance the weight of his own ordeal with the chance to guide neuvillette through the sharper edges of human emotion. instead of sidestepping with another self-deprecating joke, he chooses to voice his concerns as plainly as he can. ]
( perhaps he ought to take his own advice, he decides, when wriothesley asks about him. out of instinct, he is prone to telling him that he's fine, because he eventually will be, because no one wants to hear about the new nightmares that plague him, or the newfound, unfamiliar, utterly irrational fear that he might discover him fighting for life again, barely holding himself together.
he feels soothed, just a little, surprised by his touch. he can't help a small smile at that new nickname, and he pulls him closer, like he's afraid wriothesley might slip through his fingers if he lets go. he wakes often, just to make sure that wriothesley is sleeping soundly beside him, unharmed and whole.
neuvillette exhales quietly. ) This is new, we both understand this. I have been... more prone to irrational fears of late, involving you.
( he cups his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his lips, leaning into his lover's touch. ) And I've noticed how you tend to go silent, as well... in here.
( a gentle gesture to his temple. ) Has it been bothering you?
[ it’s a curious thing, to consider emotions as something almost tangible. or at least something another can hear, in a sense, through a bond shared with someone wriothesley holds close. intimacy on its own has become familiar territory for them both by now, but pairing it with a constant, implicit tether makes the experience entirely different.
it may simply be how neuvillette reads him now: the silence he catches is the same stillness wriothesley falls into when he carefully listens, and the muted feelings that follow are the focus he pours into forming a meaningful answer. he’s always been that way—sensitive enough to place himself in another’s shoes, yet grounded enough to tamp down his own feelings so he can examine things as rationally as a human can.
and yet nothing in that quiet pushes neuvillette away. if anything, the shared space of their emotions only settles more comfortably between them, until wriothesley is pulled out of his thoughts by the warmth of a soft kiss and a palm holding his cheek. ]
I don’t think so, no. [ it’s the best answer he has, offered with a contemplative hum and the slow glide of his fingers through neuvillette’s bangs. tenderness softens his expression before his hand slips down to join the other, wrapping neuvillette in a loose hold and drawing him chest-to-chest. close enough to feel the rhythm of the other’s heart through his bandages. ] Though I would ask in return what it feels like to be so steady that your words end up carrying more weight than you might ever intend them to.
[ despite the seriousness of the question, a silent huff of laughter stirs against neuvillette; more felt than heard. it’s never surprising to find the other operating at a different level of calm; being a sovereign and centuries of taking up the mantle of fontaine's judgment have shaped a sort of brevity and clarity that can be both distant and cutting. however, that perspective is one wriothesley thinks he needs in any sort of trusting relationship, and one he has come to love. ]
But like you said, this is still new to both of us. And I think we might need some time yet to get a feel for the ins and outs of our emotions. [ picking apart their bond and chasing it down to the hard truth beneath it isn’t something solved in a single night. but the fact that they stepped into the conversation at all, willingly and openly, is its own kind of progress. draining after everything they’ve endured, yes, but this is a kind of honesty wriothesley trusts neuvillette with. ] However… I think fear is something we both understand fairly well.
[ he doesn’t pull neuvillette into a tighter hold, but one of his hands traces slow circles along the dips of his back, comforting and coaxing almost. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but mostly dissipates to fondness, pure and unfettered, his fingers tracing light patterns over his chest. he tilts his head, curious at the words he'd chosen, the self-recrimination he hints at. the thanks is nice, but neuvillette is fixated on one particular detail, that wriothesley seems to think what he has done was wrong. )
Do you think you did something wrong because you believe that you've imposed on others?
no subject
Well, it was certainly wrong of me to rush headfirst into the situation and make such a reckless play. But as for letting others take on the burden of helping me in the immediate fallout…
[ his emotions settle into a deliberate quiet. beneath the confident veneer he always presents, the feelings underneath shift like water—steady one moment, then undulating or rippling the next depending on what stirs the surface. he glances to the side, as though arranging his thoughts in the space beside neuvillette’s head until they fall into something workable. ]
I’ve spent too long in places where needing something, or someone, gets you noticed in ways that aren’t always safe. [ the wording is precise, meant to show this runs deeper than his history in the fortress. ] So it isn’t about assuming I’ve done something wrong, I suppose. It’s more about understanding the room I stand in. The Fortress watches its warden the way inmates watch one another—for cracks, for patterns, for permission. If I start leaning, even a little, it becomes something they measure. Something they test.
[ he's never once read the letters exchanged between neuvillette and sigewinne through the years, but the iudex knows well enough that the fortress runs on an entirely different set of rules than the courts or the overworld. and wriothesley has always met those rules with pragmatism and a realistic kind of insight. ]
I can offer that sort of comfort for others to rely on, but I’ve never felt free to take advantage of what I've built for myself.
no subject
it's a survival mechanism, and it takes as much courage to admit it as he did taking care of the katalyth as best as he can. he can feel the man pull back, like a tide from the shore, but neuvillette allows it. it must be shocking to him, knowing that they're connected without knowing, having to make space for another when he has always been accustomed to his own thoughts. )
You can, now. Here.
( neuvillette will make sure of that for him. wriothesley has spent so long putting others before him, and he can't help but run his fingers through his hair, pressing his forehead through his. )
You can allow yourself to be comforted.
no subject
[ short or trite as the reply might sound at first, it's carried with a smile and a slight lift of his head so he can brush a featherlight kiss against neuvillette's lips when the other leans close. for once, wriothesley doesn’t argue or undercut the moment with a teasing remark; coupled with the weight on his side of their bond settling into quiet acceptance. it’s a welcome reminder that here, in karteria, they are free of titles and the usual expectations—and free to carry on as just themselves. and the longer they live this particular life together, the more wriothesley has come to appreciate every facet of what they share, whether here or back in fontaine.
so he reaches out without further hesitation, with an arm loose around neuvillette’s waist while his other hand slips between their gazes to gently drag a thumb across the faint pinch in neuvillette’s brow, as if trying to ease the worry the other has worn ever since coming home battered earlier in the week. ]
Do know that sentiment extends to you as well. [ the nudge is soft but sincere, underscored by the slow circles he rubs into the dip of neuvillette’s back as the other hand threads fingers through a section of mussed hair, coaxing it straight and smooth again. ] So you can breathe easy now, mon beau. The worst has already come and gone.
[ wriothesley isn’t as direct as neuvillette when it comes to matters concerning certain feelings, but he’s learning to balance the weight of his own ordeal with the chance to guide neuvillette through the sharper edges of human emotion. instead of sidestepping with another self-deprecating joke, he chooses to voice his concerns as plainly as he can. ]
But how are you holding up, truly?
no subject
he feels soothed, just a little, surprised by his touch. he can't help a small smile at that new nickname, and he pulls him closer, like he's afraid wriothesley might slip through his fingers if he lets go. he wakes often, just to make sure that wriothesley is sleeping soundly beside him, unharmed and whole.
neuvillette exhales quietly. ) This is new, we both understand this. I have been... more prone to irrational fears of late, involving you.
( he cups his cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the side of his lips, leaning into his lover's touch. ) And I've noticed how you tend to go silent, as well... in here.
( a gentle gesture to his temple. ) Has it been bothering you?
no subject
it may simply be how neuvillette reads him now: the silence he catches is the same stillness wriothesley falls into when he carefully listens, and the muted feelings that follow are the focus he pours into forming a meaningful answer. he’s always been that way—sensitive enough to place himself in another’s shoes, yet grounded enough to tamp down his own feelings so he can examine things as rationally as a human can.
and yet nothing in that quiet pushes neuvillette away. if anything, the shared space of their emotions only settles more comfortably between them, until wriothesley is pulled out of his thoughts by the warmth of a soft kiss and a palm holding his cheek. ]
I don’t think so, no. [ it’s the best answer he has, offered with a contemplative hum and the slow glide of his fingers through neuvillette’s bangs. tenderness softens his expression before his hand slips down to join the other, wrapping neuvillette in a loose hold and drawing him chest-to-chest. close enough to feel the rhythm of the other’s heart through his bandages. ] Though I would ask in return what it feels like to be so steady that your words end up carrying more weight than you might ever intend them to.
[ despite the seriousness of the question, a silent huff of laughter stirs against neuvillette; more felt than heard. it’s never surprising to find the other operating at a different level of calm; being a sovereign and centuries of taking up the mantle of fontaine's judgment have shaped a sort of brevity and clarity that can be both distant and cutting. however, that perspective is one wriothesley thinks he needs in any sort of trusting relationship, and one he has come to love. ]
But like you said, this is still new to both of us. And I think we might need some time yet to get a feel for the ins and outs of our emotions. [ picking apart their bond and chasing it down to the hard truth beneath it isn’t something solved in a single night. but the fact that they stepped into the conversation at all, willingly and openly, is its own kind of progress. draining after everything they’ve endured, yes, but this is a kind of honesty wriothesley trusts neuvillette with. ] However… I think fear is something we both understand fairly well.
[ he doesn’t pull neuvillette into a tighter hold, but one of his hands traces slow circles along the dips of his back, comforting and coaxing almost. ]
Did you want to talk about it some?