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“You will see much in the human world,
from the delightful to the depressing,
and one day,
when you’ve dwelt with among humanity long enough,
you will be placed to bring judgment overall, as the spokesperson for Fontaine’s past.”
Wriothesley cracked open his eyes, drained.
His whole body seemed to be so heavy, and his muscles were aching terribly. He was panting without being able to rise for several minutes, leaving his limbic movements limited to catching his breath and tilting his head. His sturdy figure nestled weakly on a cushiony surface, warm and comforting, he could also feel the subtle friction of the fabric enveloping his frame. However, Wriothesley soon noticed that he wasn’t wearing his customary regalia, nor did he keep the cuffs around his waist, or the usual furry coat perched on his shoulders. Another thing he perceived was the calming sound of the sloshing water, as well as the fishy, humid smell but instead of being displeasing, it actually put him at ease.
After adjusting his eyesight, Wriothesley found himself in a chamber enveloped by walls of water. Where he stepped on was a floor that reminded him of a forgotten ruin, cracked with scattered shards, but provided a cooling sensation on the soles of his bare feet. The footings of similar buildings seemed to be floating around, and beyond the transparent walls, the azure of the infinite body of water offered a breathtaking view. Sunlight penetrated the subterranean depths, forming softly luminous streaks of rays, with typical aquatic vegetation and animals stirring with the currents. For a person who resided hundreds of meters beneath the surface but was surrounded by the smell of engines and steam valves, this ambience was a distinct, but indeed exhilarating, experience.
(It was as if he was again a baby curled up in his mother’s womb, if such a thing were possible.)
Wriothesley lifted the blanket that covered him and discovered he was wearing some sort of thin, silk-like bathrobe, and he reflexively tightened the knot around his waist before getting out of bed. Although he rarely left his fortress to explore the outside world, Wriothesley knew when to be vigilant. Strangely enough, in this foreign environment, he felt no hint of threat or danger.
Every second, he recalled what had happened earlier, as well as the dreams of his excessively long slumber, only to be rewarded with the sensations of delight and depression at the same time. His breath was shallow; physically, he felt relieved by the fresh air circulating in this chamber, but mentally he sensed that there was a very important detail that he had forgotten. Wriothesley, the ex-underground pugilist, lord incognito of the murky depths, now felt an improbable empathy – one for the figure that emerged in his memory. It was also a name that stirred his instinct to immediately escape this space and rescue him.
Wait, rescue Neuvillette?
From what?
His recollections were so hazy, drifting away and drawing closer simultaneously. Wriothesley remembered the sequence of events that anchored him to a single moment: where he was fleeing from the chasing torrent of water that broke through the metal walls with gloomy hues. He remembered throwing his fist and Neuvillette stretching his arms out for... for what? His consciousness faltered there. Wriothesley swallowed, about to touch the surface of the water wall that stood vertically—
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
That voice, instead of ringing out by travelling through the air and being whispered into his ears, echoed directly inside his head. The masculine vocals that were commonly heard in the courts and handed down sentences without bias. The deep, velvety baritone that he subconsciously longed for.
“Neuv?” Wriothesley replied verbally before withdrawing his fingers from the wall of seemingly rippling water. “Are you here?”
“Closer than you think, actually,” again, the ‘voice’ bounced around in Wriothesley’s mind, while the sound he actually heard was the gentle swaying of the surrounding water. “However, it seems I can’t present myself before you. Not with my… partially recovered self.”
“Yeah? How bad are your wounds? Shouldn’t you reveal yourself to me so that I can treat them? You know I have the ability to do that, thanks to Sige,” Wriothesley circled the chamber, searching for the figure with fair skin and silver hair. He could feel his tone soften with time, and the duke relaxed with every step in the bright room. “Come on, Your Honor, show yourself.”
Another agile movement occurred against the wall behind him, and Wriothesley quickly whirled around. There, a trail of water bubbles was left behind, showing clear evidence that something, or someone, was swimming at superhuman speeds.
“I do not wish to frighten you,” came again that impossible echo within Wriothesley's head. “I am – not in... the shape you might favor, Sweetheart.”
“Rubbish,” the remark sounded in a friendly wisp. “You want to play hide-and-seek with a warden, Neuv? So be it.” Wriothesley performed light stretches, focusing on his neck and wrist joints, before twisting his waist to punch the wall of water with his freezing prowess. To once again be reminded that his cryo vision was no longer with him. Before his fist could interact with the liquid surface, however, a massive figure from behind the wall stopped his attack using raw force, preventing him from touching the barrier altogether. “—huh?”
When Wriothesley mentioned ‘massive’, the size he was talking about was definitely beyond human size – it was a whole other category of beings; indeed, that was the image that was confronting him. A mythical creature whose head almost crashed through the ceiling of the room, its neck was long and gracefully curved, with a streamlined and slithered physique, two sets of talons in shades of blue. The oceanic and fishy scent that Wriothesley smelled earlier originated from the sea serpent, and its cold flesh exuded an aura of dominance. A pair of delicate-looking, dangling horns of a vivid blue color was identical to that of the Chief Justice, differing only in size. The sight made Wriothesley blink several times, but instead of pushing away or being startled, he approached the silhouette with soaking wet scales and tail.
“Do not come any closer,” the voice cautioned, still in a telepathic manner. “The water adhering to my body might dissolve you, Love; don’t allow my small negligence be the reason you vanish forever.” You, whom I desperately fought for, the dragon gave a strangely sorrowful look. The armored and spiked head seemed to move sideways for conveying emotions.
“Oh,” Wriothesley momentarily looked at the surrounding water, realizing that it was no ordinary stream. “Are we inside the infamous Primordial Sea? Didn’t you say that such mythology ceased to exist on the surface of Teyvat?”
“The key word is ‘surface’, while there are sources that store it deep underground,” the answer returned Wriothesley's attention to the pair of eyes with a detailed resemblance to four shaped stars. “Still, since the water surrounding this realm comes from the Amrita Pool, I can’t ascertain the effects it will have on Fontainians like you. Your presence is not something I would wish to speculate with.”
“I really want to know how you collected this much water from another region,” Wriothesley uttered a ‘wow’ through the twitch of his lips. He bet it must have taken a long time and a lot of resources; perhaps even related to Neuvillette's interest in sampling water from various places delivered directly to Palais Mermonia. This sneaky old gentleman always managed to layer his needs behind fancy things titled hobbies, proving that his eloquence was used for personal gain. Although when it came to the incident that befell them and Fontaine as an entirety, this facility wasn't half bad either. “So, does this water possess healing properties?”
“For me, it does,” after all, the spring water originating from the Vourukasha Oasis was the only one left by Egeria five hundred years ago. It was also one of the few bodies of water in the mortal realm that hadn't been corrupted by the Abyss, and when he found it, Neuvillette didn’t miss the opportunity to take some with him to extend his powers. Anything to insulate Fontaine from the prophecy of their extinction and leave Focalor alone. The dragon, still in his enormous form, lowered his head until the tip of his moist nose almost touched the side of Wriothesley’s face, “Not for you though; this water might have the opposite effect.”
“If you say so,” Wriothesley shrugged, “and I see you are no longer drenched; can I hug you yet?”
Neuvillette, in his dragon state, refrained from reacting, “You... aren’t you scared of me?”
“Only your shape is different, right?” seeing the lack of resistance and hesitation from Neuvillette, Wriothesley touched the side of the head that was twice as long as his arm. Gently, he guided Neuvillette closer to him, until his human forehead and the top of the draconic head with long horns met. Wriothesley pressed them together and tenderly caressed the rough, scaled surface, “Mm, it’s still just as cold as your usual body temperature, and your head is just as hard as it was when you delivered the verdict in court,” he whispered with a grin etched broadly on his face, as if to show how much yearning was stirring in his chest. “You can’t scare me just because you’re different, Neuv. Did you forget who you were talking to? You should be the one fearing me; you know how many loyal followers I have underground.”
“It is this trait of yours that always brings me back to you, Your Grace,” the leviathan’s head rested on Wriothesley’s shoulder, and it caused the administrator to laugh with tickles.
Upon the touch, it wasn’t an understatement that Wriothesley felt all his vigor restored in a matter of seconds. The weight of a dragon’s head was hardly light, but he was able to support it with a backward step, until his back collapsed onto the surface of the bed. A light thud sound was swallowed up by the watery noise from outside the chamber and Wriothesley gasped slightly as he could feel the shifting from above him.
The familiar face and figure had returned, though it wasn’t entirely akin to what Neuvillette used to look like on a daily basis. His two eyes that were once pale blue and gazing emotionlessly were now gleaming with vivid turquoise. Similarly colored scales coated the tops of his cheeks and all over his limbs, peeking out from similar clothing to the one Wriothesley was wearing, while his horns hovered longer by half of his thighs. The most striking distinction was an appendage sticking out from the middle of the back of his waist, seemingly moving sideways with fins on the tip of it that shared the same shade as the tailcoat Neuvillette typically wore.
“So, it’s true that you’re not human, after all,” Wriothesley joked while supporting the side of Neuvillette’s face. “I thought everyone said so because of your completely impartial demeanor.”
“I believe they were speaking figuratively,” Neuvillette replied by snuggling closer into his beloved’s welcoming, warm palms. “No one has ever seen me in this... shape. Trust me, I’m not at the peak of my confidence.”
“Yes? And why is that?” The query flew out as his knuckles partially hovered over the surface of Neuvillette’s scales. Wriothesley’s eyes were riveted to the inhuman texture, fascinated by the swirl of colors displayed from the reflection and retraction of the light against it. “Although the differences do occur, for me you remain the same; a man who doesn’t know how to comprehend his own feelings and is bewildered when others accept him gratuitously beyond reasons.”
That answer caused the dragon of water’s heart to sink.
“Where are we now?” Wriothesley inquired once he noted the strange void in their conversation, but he was aware that it was premature to barrage Neuvillette with details.
“Ruins of the old Fontaine Research Institute’s central laboratory,” the answer prompted the duke to widen his eyes. Evidently that was how the sunlight was able to penetrate all the way here; they were floating in the air instead of being beneath the ground.
“I never expected the inside to be this beautiful,” the dark-haired man muttered in admiration. The allogravity, condensed body of water was, as far as Wriothesley could remember, cubical in shape and interlaced to form a neat composition. On the surface of the water, there were numerous wreckages and abandoned ruins, left as part of history in the aftermath of the massive explosion at the research facility. He shouldn’t have been surprised that Neuvillette had made a place of sorrow such as this his sanctuary. Nobody would bother to come here; even the waterway that connected many important points in Fontaine was unstable in this volatile environment. “So, the said water, you gathered it here, for...”
“Recovery,” Neuvillette replied sombrely. “You – stopped breathing, that day, and I... couldn’t think of anything but trying to revive you here.”
“In what way?”
“By extracting the poison in your system and eliminating it from my body using the water.”
“Mm,” Wriothesley nodded in understanding, “I’ve been a nuisance to you, haven’t I? I’m sorry.”
“You’re not—” the long-haired man sighed. “...apologies, I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”
“Neuv,” the administrator quietly hushed, “I won’t understand if you don’t elaborate on your thoughts.”
“I’ve spent quite a long time acquainting myself with the human realm, and I still couldn’t grow accustomed to the range of emotions they display,” Neuvillette chuckled bitterly. He permitted Wriothesley’s fingers to trace the curves of his face, seizing the strands of his long hair and leaving gentle kisses upon them. In reciprocation, Neuvillette shifted slowly and brought the bed they were nestled in to rattle slightly, only to then capture the warden’s lower body between his knees. “Perhaps it is true as you put it, my dear; I fail to understand others because I cannot fully understand myself.” All he knew was his oath to render righteousness upon others, justice that was as cold as the blood that flowed through his draconic vessel.
Even when I loved you oh, so profoundly, I still couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to do,
Neuvillette closed his eyes as Wriothesley’s thumb wiped its corners.
“Neuv, I’m not the best with words, but I know for a fact that you are a good person. In fact – you’re a human being with an extraordinarily big heart,” the words tumbled from his voice that was slightly hoarse from swallowing raw emotion.
Wriothesley wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve; he did embrace sentimentality of a kind and regulated it properly, he just didn’t choose to carelessly display his feelings. With the confused Neuvillette at his side, however, Wriothesley settled to feel instead of to think, and he was comfortable in doing so.
“You put everyone’s safety above your own survival, despite your public image of always being distant and your ridiculously high standards in everyday life. Were it not for the fact that you truly love Fontaine and its people, you... would have yielded to the prophecy, and let us all perish because of it.”
Once again, their foreheads touched, and the two courageous warriors closed their eyes to contemplate the warmth they were sharing.
“You, poor dragon,” Wriothesley felt his voice crack as the flickering images flitted through his mind. “You’re so lonely and holding on to the memories of your previous life, alone in this bitter, ruthless world of humans.”
Neuvillette breathed out, “Forgive me, I – I didn’t wish to burden you with my remembrance,” he pecked Wriothesley’s lips that trembled slightly with shock and anguish. “In order to bring you back, I was compelled to delve into the deepest parts of you; your body, your mind, and your soul, and so I unintentionally shared my consciousness with you.”
Wriothesley shook his head, ignoring the heat melting in the corners of his eyes. “You weigh me nothing, Neuv,” he sighed as the same wetness flowed from his lover’s eyes. “Even if it is, your memories aren’t something I can’t handle.”
“Love, everything I experienced and remembered weren’t joyful – until I met you,” he deepened the kiss slightly, sweet with tantalizing affection and salty with lingering tears, not daring to invade any deeper. “I apologize that getting to know me has only brought you sorrow.”
“Quit saying that,” their tears still streamed without sobbing; even their pronunciation and intonation unaffected by it. Merely a manifestation of frustration and relief masquerading as bodily reactions. “You utilized all your strength to purify the corruption of the Abyss that contaminated the primordial water that hunted me, didn’t you?” It was still relatively fresh in his memory how Neuvillette absorbed all that intimidating shade of violet and turned it into a substance that was harmless upon contact with him and the rest of the Fontainians.
Neuvillette didn’t answer him verbally, but his gestures told him that was exactly the truth.
He was trying to neutralize the toxin in a capacity that should be enough to destroy him, even preventing him from being able to be reborn. It was fortunate that Neuvillette always planned two steps ahead, so that he not only managed to arrive safely at this haven of recuperation, but also had the opportunity to cure Wriothesley of a harsher reality.
“You tried to use the power of your vision to freeze the corrupted water, Sweetheart,” as he said it, there was an overwhelming fear in every syllable on Neuvillette’s mouth. And I almost lost you—
“Because they were targeting you,” Wriothesley replied, equally horrified.
“It wouldn’t change anything if I forbade you, would it?”
Wriothesley snickered between his muted cries, “You know I’m not one to give in to the odds.”
“It’s that quality of yours that has always charmed me, Your Grace, that you’re fierce and gallant,” Neuvillette declared solemnly. “It’s also that part of you that makes me wish to stay by your side, regardless of what happens.”
Regardless of what happens,
Wriothesley nodded before deepening their kiss,
“Thank you for not giving up on me, Neuv,” the whisper was like the absolution Neuvillette had longed for. Before his connection with Wriothesley developed, the Chief Justice might never have known that he craved it. “Thank you for being stubborn and choosing to stay alive.”
That gratitude was soothing, more than the abundance of water he had accumulated over time, his natural habitat as a descendant of the Hydro Dragon, who must always stay pristine. Neuvillette invited himself closer until there was no gap between his body and Wriothesley’s. After all the grueling and grievous events that had forced them to go sleepless for days on end, after all the battles that had inflicted tremendous damage on Meropide’s fortress, after all the time it had taken to get the chief warden to open his eyes once more, this one embrace was a great relief. There was no such thing as futility as he went through everything with full awareness and sincerity. And this embrace, an embrace so tight that Neuvillette felt as if his shattered heart was glued back together, as if his soul had become one with Wriothesley, was a reward beyond his wildest expectations.
Wriothesley returned the favor with equal energy. He and Neuvillette had worked together professionally for years, even though the maximum-security facility was outside the jurisdiction of the high court, including the nation of Fontaine itself. They shared a mutual trust and respect, and kept their little clandestine, which had grown out of control in recent months, to only themselves.
They were content, and that was all that mattered.
“Although,” Neuvillette’s confession broke the silence, “since the treatment requires a lot of energy, I’m not able to entirely maintain my human form. I regret that for the time being... I can’t appear in public.”
“Maybe it’s best that way, since I wouldn’t want to share this side of yours with others.”
Before Neuvillette had a chance to ask the significance behind those words, Wriothesley and his restored strength turned the tables – as he was often nicknamed, the master of turning the tides. Suddenly it was Neuvillette’s back that was pinned to the bed, the seamed hem of his bathrobe bearing silent witness to Wriothesley’s hands exploring the underlying skin. The sturdy brawler had always been able to dispel any lingering doubts or worries with his confident touches. Neuvillette gave his approval with a muffled sigh, placing both hands firmly on the warden’s hips to assist him in positioning himself on the Chief Justice’s steady lap. Unlike most times, where Neuvillette was fully reclined, their gaze was now almost parallel due to the thick dragon’s tail curled beneath his waist. Wriothesley gave a sneaky look before wrapping his hands around Neuvillette’s neck.
“You poor thing, all you could do was watch me sleep the whole time,” a taunting smirk was etched into Wriothesley's face. “How could you hold yourself back for so long, Your Honor?”
Incapable of suppressing his weeks-long slumbering libido, Neuvillette ran his cold, texturized thumbs over his mate's still cloth-covered nipples, “I once swore to you that I would do nothing against your consent, and I was true to my word.”
“Mm,” Wriothesley lifted himself up and grinned, enjoying his lover’s increasingly brazen handling. He shifted his groin closer to Neuvillette’s pubic bone, about to bring the two erections that yearned for each other into contact. Deliberately, Wriothesley let out a suggestive moan, knowing that his voice was one of the judge’s weaknesses. Sure enough, the light rubbing on both sensitive spots on his chest transformed into squeezing and kneading that conveyed more than just implying a meaning. Wriothesley laughed in satisfaction at this.
“Clearly, you’ve never learned the proverb that says, ‘never awaken a sleeping dragon,’ have you, Dear?” Neuvillette slid his palm into the curve of the aristocrat’s waist, just above his buttocks, and yanked him until there was no longer a gap between their toned, sweaty torsos. “You apparently forget that I haven’t fully transformed back into my human form, either. Didn’t someone at Meropide teach you about the sexual anatomy of a dragon?”
“Oh,” Wriothesley blinked, “so it’s true that you have two… genitals?”
“Why don’t you prove it yourself?” Neuvillette’s tone was becoming heavy with excitement, but he still controlled himself from immediately lashing out at someone who had just woken up from a long sleep.
Wriothesley complied and unwrapped his present; his eyes that had been transfixed for a little too long in Neuvillette’s area of privacy flicked to their owner, “How on earth could these two giants fit in my mortal body which can’t expand overmuch, Your Honor?”
“I wonder, someone seemed so adventurous a while ago,” the abrupt movement made the two – no, three impatient arousals grind against each other, and the off-the-wall sensation gave Wriothesley a splitting headache. “Relax, Love, I wouldn’t do anything beyond your comfort zone. You know you can always stop me if it becomes too much.”
“How much is too much, anyway,” Wriothesley whined as he submitted himself completely to Neuvillette. “Fine, do whatever you want to do to me – after all, we’re damn lucky to still be given the chance to do this,” he pressed his lover’s lips to the crook of his neck, permitting Neuvillette to mark him as many as he desired. “Consider this my way of thanking you for your efforts in bringing me back.”
“It’s unnecessary to hold me in such high regard, Your Grace,” despite saying such a thing, Neuvillette still traced his imprint on the nobleman’s heavily scarred skin. Wriothesley drowned the grip of his fingers, straying deeper into the long silvery hair. “Stay with me, Wriothesley, shall we live as many years as possible.”
“Be alive with me, Neuvillette,” he whimpered in pleasure as one of the two teasingly grazed his already drenched entrance. “Be one with me right now.”
Never before had they made love this intensely, this passionately,
Perhaps, because their souls were separated for too long, because the memories before the world turned dark were the shadow of each other’s death. The immense desire to survive and be reunited made the thrill erupt more violently, more spectacularly. They made love once, twice, at different tempos and in various positions, until their thirsting and starving hearts were satisfied, until it was beyond their capacity, until their vigor was depleted. The two lovers who were reconnected by such a formidable effort eventually collapsed in weary laughter, intertwining their fingers, and clinging to each other in the afterglow of pleasure. Joy and contentment embraced each other, bringing a sense of serenity and calm to the floating body of water.
(—because at the end of the day, nothing was more worthwhile than remaining alive.)