( neuvillette is definitely the farthest thing from a distant observer, swept up in the moment with his breath caught in his throat. the tableau before him unfolds with a terrifying, vivid clarity; reminding him of the boy he had seen on the stand, prepared for the trial before him. so young, skinny, on the brink of death with bandages around his throat. but those eyes... grey like the bleakest winter storm, burning with a determination; he is barely a man, and yet the world had failed him in every way that counted.
here, neuvillette can only watch. he knows the outcome, understands full well that the man standing before him is proof of his ultimate survival, but it doesn't stop the awfulness of the moment.
it is betrayal relived all over again, and without thinking, neuvillette steps forward as if he could do anything about it, turn back time and halt what this terrible memory in its steps. but he cannot. what the flat evidence presents is different from watching it unfold with wriothesley, and try as he might, neuvillette cannot help his own distress, fine brows knitted and lavender eyes betraying what he cannot say.
there was no way he could understand the exact sequence of events back then, but now... now, there is so much, so much blood. instead of reaching to the boy, he reaches for him, a hand closing around his forearm as he turns his gaze from the boy to him, the man who had survived hell and yet stayed kind despite all the things he had to do, grown into a stunning, clever creature, overcoming all that had been thrown at him. he thrived in the shadows, and had become the second most powerful man in fontaine through his own effort.
how tragic. how incredible. finally, he finds his voice, quietly strained. heavy, an odd sort of grief that sits in his ribs — somewhere out there, a small raincloud has started to haunt someone. wriothesley will hate this, but even the iudex is not immune to emotion. )
[ something in neuvillette’s reaction pulls wriothesley sharply back into himself. this is a memory he's long since examined in quiet solitude—mostly during sleepless nights at the fortress, first as an inmate and later as its warden. though whether he has truly come to terms with it or merely learned to live beside it is difficult to say. sigewinne, at least, has never pressed the matter despite watching him grow into his purpose. yet it is neuvillette’s wholly human response that unsettles him, drawing him out of that practiced detachment. some confusion flickers across his features when neuvillette touches him, but it softens quickly and is replaced by quiet concern. that despite whatever unease stirs within him, wriothesley immediately sets it aside in favor of tending to his mate. ]
—are the result of a choice I made a long time ago. [ wriothesley chooses to finish neuvillette’s thought himself, steering the conversation toward another confession of sorts—if only to give them both something steadier to hold onto through their bond. ] It’s not something I regret or celebrate, and while I doubt I could argue my case convincingly before the Chief Justice… [ the stillness of the scene fractures as life seeps from the bodies around them. distant footsteps and hushed voices stir within the orphanage, before the eventual disbelief ripples through the children’s faces and panic soon overtakes them. their cries rush past them both like a rising tide, stark against wriothesley’s unyielding composure. ] To me, all of this was necessary.
[ with that quiet acceptance, the memory splinters like a mirror under strain and collapses inward. their forms shift once more—from the familiar shapes of themselves back home to now something grossly altered by the corruption of living in karteria. eventually, they find themselves standing within the hollowed remains of a katalyth growth. the jagged crystal looms around them, its dark surface pocked and fractured, pale deposits clinging stubbornly to every crevice—an intrusion that feels as wrong as it looks. ]
Although you’ll have to forgive me—at least for being at a loss for words. [ the implication lingers: mercy from the iudex lies not in absolution, but in understanding—an acknowledgment of what has already been confessed and endured. ] It’s sort of difficult to prepare for these things.. I just hope you aren’t too unsettled, having witnessed my case so plainly rather than through records or testimonies.
[ still too formal, perhaps—but when it comes to trauma, wriothesley has always leaned toward quiet internalization rather than open display. for once, however, a faint flicker of shame moves through his half of the bond, unsettling enough that he hesitates to reach for neuvillette in return. how childish of him, he thinks. and in the end, all he offers is a tired, restrained smile. ]
( the intricacies of human emotion might sometimes elude him, but neuvillette has been among them for centuries, watched over them, fulfilling the fontaine's laws — and by his very nature, emotions are a strange thing for sovereigns to have. but he has long made the decision to dwell amongst men, and with wriothesley being the most outstanding, alluring of them all.
he shines like a jewel in the dark; filled with a strength of will and shrewdness that draws his eye and keeps it — even now, when they're together, he cannot help but be endlessly fascinated by him. which is perhaps why, when he senses the inexplicable ripple of shame through their pair bond, he stiffens. his gaze flickers to his, taking his measure and observing just how his expression hasn't changed, save only his hesitation at reaching out for him.
wriothesley is altogether too human despite his worldliness. mortal, given over to emotion despite his nature. he softens, shaking his head quietly. he breaches the distance between them when he recognizes how wriothesley closes himself up again, and he pulls him into his arms. it is guilt that sits heavy in his chest; the oratrice's flaws are many, he sees it now, as was he. and yet...
yet, the law and justice are two very different things, and neuvillette understands this to his bones now, more than ever, when wriothesley stands before him with proof of it. in his mind's eye, he sees the young boy on the stand again, and how he wished with all his heart that he could override the decree, even if that has led to the man that wriothesley is today.
he tightens his grip and cradles the back of his head, uttering a quiet: )
Nevertheless, this was not a choice you were supposed to make, if Fontaine had not failed you. As it has failed many others. Even if this forged has you into the man that you are today and led you to me, it should not have happened. When we return, I shall see to it that we make improvements.
[ they've spoken about these sorts of moments at length, especially after his last rough encounter with katalyth—the idea, and slow acceptance, of concern from another. namely from neuvillette, and the gradual mending of wriothesley’s belief that the other cannot outwardly care for people, at least where duty and responsibility are concerned. and yet, for all the love, trust, and affection wriothesley can now return with ease, being on the receiving end of neuvillette’s concern forces him to confront a few truths.
namely, that someone has truly witnessed his change for the better, despite how doggedly he’s kept to the shadows and out of sight of the overworld. the concern has always been there: in the letters exchanged with sigewinne, the first to comment on his vision, and the progression of gift-giving or playful bantering. and yet wriothesley has always simply relied on duty and restriction as the excuse to deflect from the notion that he—of all people, after how far he once fell—could be seen as irreplaceable to someone so magnanimous as neuvillette.
but now isn’t the time to deflect or seek to correct. not when neuvillette makes the first move and draws him in close. it’s a comfort wriothesley himself offers others when it’s warranted, which makes being held like this all the more telling; it suggests fear has entered the picture, or at least the risk of harm, and the feeling knots in him at first. however, their bond steadies the reaction as soon as it surfaces, giving him just enough clarity to loosen his usual tension and allow himself to relish the moment instead. ]
I think you're doing just fine to that end, Neuvillette. [ he answers lightly, folding in some of his usual humor while he gathers both his wits and the quiet reassurance that it’s alright, and even welcome, to lean into neuvillette’s hold. once certain of that, he lifts a hand to return the embrace. his head tilting slightly so that a twitching ear and the soft nub of his budding rhinophore press against neuvillette's temple in a faint, almost absent nuzzle. ] Seeing as I haven’t come across any other lost soul sent to the Fortress bearing the same sort of sin—at least not within my tenure.
[ there’s no need to soften his own crime, either. as warden, his greater purpose lies in rehabilitation, so it’s only natural he reviews the offenses of incoming inmates to better understand how to guide them, even from a distance. such opportunities he can offer others through his position, despite how seldom he was afforded the same. the thought and irony of that belief lingers, however, as one hand slips beneath neuvillette’s usual coiffure, hiding the brief tightening of his fingers in the fabric of neuvillette's shirt—a rare, quiet show of need—tempered by the airy laugh he lets out when neuvillette cradles the back of his head in return. ]
Still, I’m flattered you’d work just a touch harder to put me out of a job, or send me into early retirement. [ before neuvillette can interject with exasperation at the tease, wriothesley hums and lingers near the former's ear. surrounded by katalyth, they have enough excuse to allow themselves a touch more openness in affection than usual. ] Hopefully somewhere sunny and quiet. Not so far that you couldn’t visit, of course—if we’re still talking about “making improvements” once we get back home.
[ while neuvillette speaks of change for the sake of their nation, wriothesley only leans closer. a soft huff warms the shell of neuvillette's ear, the smile evident in the slow exhale alongside the playful lilt of his words. where neuvillette looks outward, wriothesley’s thoughts settle on a different kind of change that involves just the two of them. ]
( neuvillette is not oblivious to the effect that the months of being in here has done to him. removed from the fortress and his responsibilities, wriothesley has found his footing remarkably quickly, adapting to the situation and making the best of it. but this memory, the unfolding event before them is a jarring, unwelcome anecdote, even if has illuminated the shadows of wriothesley's past that neuvillette had once contemplated.
he keeps holding him, reluctant to release his lover. it is relief that settles in his chest when he feels him lean in close, and he listens quietly when he speaks of sin bearing, ruminating on the weight that sits on those sturdy, strong shoulders. he doesn't argue, because even if he had an understandable reason, crime had nonetheless been committed. he presses in close with a soft sigh, indulging that quiet show of need with approval and warmth, and he noses along that scarred neck, teasing the leather strips that he still wears around them. a thought bubbles to the fore, his gaze lingering on the tiny rhinophores on wriothesley's head, the wiggle of his ears, and the warmth in his eyes. he has been thinking about this from time to time, and now feels like one of the best times to put it forward. )
Perhaps you could come and live with me.
( he says at last, seeking out wriothesley's hand so that he can thread his fingers through his. ) ... when we return. Should you wish to one day retire, perhaps you can find comfort in my home, with me. Unless you wish to purchase a lodging for yourself, of course.
[ the recognition of a certain emotion through their bond isn't immediate at first. in fact, it almost comes at wriothesley sideways as he accepts that the closeness they both lean into immediately is simply their way of comforting one another. however, when relief trickles through from neuvillette's side, it's carried by a touch of warmth. enough for wriothesley to wonder why neuvillette can still look and hold him with such assurance after everything the katalyth had forcibly shown and laid bare between them both.
neuvillette isn't correcting him either, not softening the truth into something more palatable, not trying to solve for sins committed in the past—save for a promise for the future. he simply remains by wriothesley's side, unshaken, holding him close as though what has been exposed leaves him nothing lesser.
and then it dawns on wriothesley: he's being tended to. even when neuvillette reaches for him in a language of comfort that's foreign to them both for different reasons, the iudex still tries with his whole presence until that care takes shape in a way they can both make sense of. so it stings, for a moment, because it's almost as though neuvillette is inventing gentleness that isn't born of pity. wriothesley can feel it in the fleeting touches he's peppered with, and by the time he smiles at the offer, he's already drawing their joined hands and himself close enough that neuvillette can no doubt feel the way wriothesley's pulse beats beneath his skin. and when he meets neuvillette's gaze, the look he gives him is soft as he answers in a way that truly feels like himself, uncertainty and all. ]
You know, I'd like to find my own place up on the surface. [ although he can't entirely hold back a laugh when he does have to consider neuvillette's formal place of residence back in fontaine. ] Whether at the Palais, or under a roof that belongs to just us—playing house together has been fine and well in Karteria, but after all of this... I think I'm ready to build a home that lasts with you.
[ it's a rough confession, but neuvillette is at least privy to some of the truer vulnerabilities wriothesley still carries with him. trust is already an obstacle they've surmounted with relative ease. but even in the house at water's edge, which wriothesley works to keep comfortable and safe from much of karteria's nonsense, it is still just a space they just share together. and after witnessing, in full, the loss of his innocence and the shattering of worldly love, wriothesley finds himself open, at last, to sincerely building a home that isn't an illusion, or tending to a refuge he has to safeguard and maintain for others.
though he still feels a little lost in navigating a moment like this with neuvillette, it isn't the same sort of confusion that leaves him uncertain of how to react or how best to care for them both. rather, it is one of those exceedingly rare and fleeting moments in which wriothesley is almost bashful about voicing a sincere want so plainly. even so, he lets it rest between them as it is, despite how neuvillette can likely feel the way he almost desperately wants to smooth it over with their usual brand of propriety, if only to keep it from feeling so heavy and exposed. ]
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no subject
here, neuvillette can only watch. he knows the outcome, understands full well that the man standing before him is proof of his ultimate survival, but it doesn't stop the awfulness of the moment.
it is betrayal relived all over again, and without thinking, neuvillette steps forward as if he could do anything about it, turn back time and halt what this terrible memory in its steps. but he cannot. what the flat evidence presents is different from watching it unfold with wriothesley, and try as he might, neuvillette cannot help his own distress, fine brows knitted and lavender eyes betraying what he cannot say.
there was no way he could understand the exact sequence of events back then, but now... now, there is so much, so much blood. instead of reaching to the boy, he reaches for him, a hand closing around his forearm as he turns his gaze from the boy to him, the man who had survived hell and yet stayed kind despite all the things he had to do, grown into a stunning, clever creature, overcoming all that had been thrown at him. he thrived in the shadows, and had become the second most powerful man in fontaine through his own effort.
how tragic. how incredible. finally, he finds his voice, quietly strained. heavy, an odd sort of grief that sits in his ribs — somewhere out there, a small raincloud has started to haunt someone. wriothesley will hate this, but even the iudex is not immune to emotion. )
I did not know. Those scars...
no subject
—are the result of a choice I made a long time ago. [ wriothesley chooses to finish neuvillette’s thought himself, steering the conversation toward another confession of sorts—if only to give them both something steadier to hold onto through their bond. ] It’s not something I regret or celebrate, and while I doubt I could argue my case convincingly before the Chief Justice… [ the stillness of the scene fractures as life seeps from the bodies around them. distant footsteps and hushed voices stir within the orphanage, before the eventual disbelief ripples through the children’s faces and panic soon overtakes them. their cries rush past them both like a rising tide, stark against wriothesley’s unyielding composure. ] To me, all of this was necessary.
[ with that quiet acceptance, the memory splinters like a mirror under strain and collapses inward. their forms shift once more—from the familiar shapes of themselves back home to now something grossly altered by the corruption of living in karteria. eventually, they find themselves standing within the hollowed remains of a katalyth growth. the jagged crystal looms around them, its dark surface pocked and fractured, pale deposits clinging stubbornly to every crevice—an intrusion that feels as wrong as it looks. ]
Although you’ll have to forgive me—at least for being at a loss for words. [ the implication lingers: mercy from the iudex lies not in absolution, but in understanding—an acknowledgment of what has already been confessed and endured. ] It’s sort of difficult to prepare for these things.. I just hope you aren’t too unsettled, having witnessed my case so plainly rather than through records or testimonies.
[ still too formal, perhaps—but when it comes to trauma, wriothesley has always leaned toward quiet internalization rather than open display. for once, however, a faint flicker of shame moves through his half of the bond, unsettling enough that he hesitates to reach for neuvillette in return. how childish of him, he thinks. and in the end, all he offers is a tired, restrained smile. ]
no subject
he shines like a jewel in the dark; filled with a strength of will and shrewdness that draws his eye and keeps it — even now, when they're together, he cannot help but be endlessly fascinated by him. which is perhaps why, when he senses the inexplicable ripple of shame through their pair bond, he stiffens. his gaze flickers to his, taking his measure and observing just how his expression hasn't changed, save only his hesitation at reaching out for him.
wriothesley is altogether too human despite his worldliness. mortal, given over to emotion despite his nature. he softens, shaking his head quietly. he breaches the distance between them when he recognizes how wriothesley closes himself up again, and he pulls him into his arms. it is guilt that sits heavy in his chest; the oratrice's flaws are many, he sees it now, as was he. and yet...
yet, the law and justice are two very different things, and neuvillette understands this to his bones now, more than ever, when wriothesley stands before him with proof of it. in his mind's eye, he sees the young boy on the stand again, and how he wished with all his heart that he could override the decree, even if that has led to the man that wriothesley is today.
he tightens his grip and cradles the back of his head, uttering a quiet: )
Nevertheless, this was not a choice you were supposed to make, if Fontaine had not failed you. As it has failed many others. Even if this forged has you into the man that you are today and led you to me, it should not have happened. When we return, I shall see to it that we make improvements.
no subject
namely, that someone has truly witnessed his change for the better, despite how doggedly he’s kept to the shadows and out of sight of the overworld. the concern has always been there: in the letters exchanged with sigewinne, the first to comment on his vision, and the progression of gift-giving or playful bantering. and yet wriothesley has always simply relied on duty and restriction as the excuse to deflect from the notion that he—of all people, after how far he once fell—could be seen as irreplaceable to someone so magnanimous as neuvillette.
but now isn’t the time to deflect or seek to correct. not when neuvillette makes the first move and draws him in close. it’s a comfort wriothesley himself offers others when it’s warranted, which makes being held like this all the more telling; it suggests fear has entered the picture, or at least the risk of harm, and the feeling knots in him at first. however, their bond steadies the reaction as soon as it surfaces, giving him just enough clarity to loosen his usual tension and allow himself to relish the moment instead. ]
I think you're doing just fine to that end, Neuvillette. [ he answers lightly, folding in some of his usual humor while he gathers both his wits and the quiet reassurance that it’s alright, and even welcome, to lean into neuvillette’s hold. once certain of that, he lifts a hand to return the embrace. his head tilting slightly so that a twitching ear and the soft nub of his budding rhinophore press against neuvillette's temple in a faint, almost absent nuzzle. ] Seeing as I haven’t come across any other lost soul sent to the Fortress bearing the same sort of sin—at least not within my tenure.
[ there’s no need to soften his own crime, either. as warden, his greater purpose lies in rehabilitation, so it’s only natural he reviews the offenses of incoming inmates to better understand how to guide them, even from a distance. such opportunities he can offer others through his position, despite how seldom he was afforded the same. the thought and irony of that belief lingers, however, as one hand slips beneath neuvillette’s usual coiffure, hiding the brief tightening of his fingers in the fabric of neuvillette's shirt—a rare, quiet show of need—tempered by the airy laugh he lets out when neuvillette cradles the back of his head in return. ]
Still, I’m flattered you’d work just a touch harder to put me out of a job, or send me into early retirement. [ before neuvillette can interject with exasperation at the tease, wriothesley hums and lingers near the former's ear. surrounded by katalyth, they have enough excuse to allow themselves a touch more openness in affection than usual. ] Hopefully somewhere sunny and quiet. Not so far that you couldn’t visit, of course—if we’re still talking about “making improvements” once we get back home.
[ while neuvillette speaks of change for the sake of their nation, wriothesley only leans closer. a soft huff warms the shell of neuvillette's ear, the smile evident in the slow exhale alongside the playful lilt of his words. where neuvillette looks outward, wriothesley’s thoughts settle on a different kind of change that involves just the two of them. ]
no subject
he keeps holding him, reluctant to release his lover. it is relief that settles in his chest when he feels him lean in close, and he listens quietly when he speaks of sin bearing, ruminating on the weight that sits on those sturdy, strong shoulders. he doesn't argue, because even if he had an understandable reason, crime had nonetheless been committed. he presses in close with a soft sigh, indulging that quiet show of need with approval and warmth, and he noses along that scarred neck, teasing the leather strips that he still wears around them. a thought bubbles to the fore, his gaze lingering on the tiny rhinophores on wriothesley's head, the wiggle of his ears, and the warmth in his eyes. he has been thinking about this from time to time, and now feels like one of the best times to put it forward. )
Perhaps you could come and live with me.
( he says at last, seeking out wriothesley's hand so that he can thread his fingers through his. ) ... when we return. Should you wish to one day retire, perhaps you can find comfort in my home, with me. Unless you wish to purchase a lodging for yourself, of course.
no subject
neuvillette isn't correcting him either, not softening the truth into something more palatable, not trying to solve for sins committed in the past—save for a promise for the future. he simply remains by wriothesley's side, unshaken, holding him close as though what has been exposed leaves him nothing lesser.
and then it dawns on wriothesley: he's being tended to. even when neuvillette reaches for him in a language of comfort that's foreign to them both for different reasons, the iudex still tries with his whole presence until that care takes shape in a way they can both make sense of. so it stings, for a moment, because it's almost as though neuvillette is inventing gentleness that isn't born of pity. wriothesley can feel it in the fleeting touches he's peppered with, and by the time he smiles at the offer, he's already drawing their joined hands and himself close enough that neuvillette can no doubt feel the way wriothesley's pulse beats beneath his skin. and when he meets neuvillette's gaze, the look he gives him is soft as he answers in a way that truly feels like himself, uncertainty and all. ]
You know, I'd like to find my own place up on the surface. [ although he can't entirely hold back a laugh when he does have to consider neuvillette's formal place of residence back in fontaine. ] Whether at the Palais, or under a roof that belongs to just us—playing house together has been fine and well in Karteria, but after all of this... I think I'm ready to build a home that lasts with you.
[ it's a rough confession, but neuvillette is at least privy to some of the truer vulnerabilities wriothesley still carries with him. trust is already an obstacle they've surmounted with relative ease. but even in the house at water's edge, which wriothesley works to keep comfortable and safe from much of karteria's nonsense, it is still just a space they just share together. and after witnessing, in full, the loss of his innocence and the shattering of worldly love, wriothesley finds himself open, at last, to sincerely building a home that isn't an illusion, or tending to a refuge he has to safeguard and maintain for others.
though he still feels a little lost in navigating a moment like this with neuvillette, it isn't the same sort of confusion that leaves him uncertain of how to react or how best to care for them both. rather, it is one of those exceedingly rare and fleeting moments in which wriothesley is almost bashful about voicing a sincere want so plainly. even so, he lets it rest between them as it is, despite how neuvillette can likely feel the way he almost desperately wants to smooth it over with their usual brand of propriety, if only to keep it from feeling so heavy and exposed. ]