What else the gods are for
Continuation of Chapter 1, doesn't make sense without it
Genre: angst, misinformation campaign and religious homoeroticsm of nonbeliever interacting with god of alien species
Characters: Neuvillette\Wriothesley
Warnings: sfw in a sense that nothing explicitly sexy happens, but there is dissociation, ptsd episode, mentions of self-harm and implied suicidal ideation.
Chapters: 2 out of ?. Wordcount: ~7k
The Palais was quiet and almost empty at this night hour, all bureaucrats long gone save for a single intern with bleak eyes at the table covered in papers. Wriothesley made sure to catch his line of sight and nod, he needed witnesses who could testify to him being here.
He slowed pace before the doors of Neuvillette’s office, but before he could knock, a melusine materialized in front of him, blocking the way.
“Hello! Please state your business.”
Sedene was bright blue and still somehow he didn’t see her coming. And she was not a veteran fatui agent. She was a receptionist. How melusines could have the most obnoxious colorings, and still be able to sneak up on anyone better than assassins with decades of training was beyond him.
“I’m here to see the Chief Justice.”
She frowned.
“The office hours are over. I can schedule you an appointment in the next two days.”
Normally he would never antagonize a melusine, let alone Neuvillette’s secretary, but tonight his own future stopped mattering.
“I’m the Duke of Meropide,” pulling the rank was technically not the low blow, but it was certainly not the most graceful move.
She held his gaze without flinching, hands on hips.
“I’m aware. This is why I’m offering an appointment in the next two days, and not months.”
Well, time for actually dirty moves.
“Sigewinne said to pass her greetings.”
Sedene sighed, gave him reproachful glare, but turned and knocked on the door.
“Yes?” Neuvillette’s surprised voice asked. Sedene slid inside and closed the door without giving Wriothesley a chance to follow, but he was close enough to hear the conversation.
“Sedene? I told you to leave for today hours ago.”
“Well, apparently it’s good that I didn’t. You have a visitor, Monsieur.”
“At this time? Is there an emergency?”
“Doesn’t seem so. It’s just the Duke. Shall I schedule him an appointment for tomorrow’s afternoon?”
Despite the inconvenience, he couldn’t help but respect her dedication.
“He must have an important reason for a visit at such an hour. Let him in.”
“As you wish, Monsieur,” she relented with a sigh.
The door barely moved as she materialized before Wriothesley, looking displeased.
“He will see you now.”
He took a deep breath and walked in, plastering a practiced smile over his face.
“Monsieur, apologies for such a late…”
Neuvillette caught his eyes and his expression changed from mild surprise to an alarmed frown. He rose from his seat sharply and for a moment Wriothesley thought he was done for.
“Wriothesley? You are in pain, what happened? Were you attacked?”
“Ah, no, it’s nothing. I’m fine. Cut up my palm a bit by accident, that’s all,” he waved his conveniently sliced up hand, which he took time to bandage beforehand to stop the bleeding. His usual black bandages were especially good for this, because even if blood went through, it wouldn’t be visible.
Neuvillette didn’t look too convinced.
“You are also… poisoned?”
“Drunk,” Wriothesley clarified.
“Ah. I see.”
It was good that Iudex brought this up himself. Surely he must know humans are prone to spontaneous and stupid decisions when drunk, a lot of crimes are committed while intoxicated. This should give Wriothesley a sizable leeway in how unusual he acted.
“What is… the purpose of your visit?”
“I think it was quite rude of you to leave like that today, wasn’t it?” he was still keeping up a lopsided grin, slowly walking forward. “I know my company must be horribly drab in comparison to the fancy balls of the *real* nobility you’re used to, but even so.”
“It’s not the reason why I’d le…”
“After so many years of snubbing my invitations to offer a visit yourself and then leave so abruptly is a grave offense even for you, Monsieur.”
He cut Neuvillette off, for the first time in all these years. Years of trying to subtly encourage something more than just polite formalities, of cherishing every time the strict posture was even slightly dropped, every random tangent Iudex would slip into and then profusely apologize, until there were less and less of apologies and more and more of actual talking. He knew it was the night to burn every bridge, but still it felt like tearing out a fragile tree sapling he spent years raising just when it only started to bloom.
“Cruel to toy with me like that, don’t you think? I trusted you and I didn’t trust anyone since my trial.”
He really *was* drunk, huh. He let the edge of real bitterness slip into his voice. Still, even this could be used, the glimpse of sincerity could sell everything else better.
“My apologies. It was unacceptably rude of me. Perhaps if we could arrange another date…”
“No, my honor demands immediate satisfaction,” he slipped into a mock posh speech pattern. “But don’t worry, I won’t subject you to the tea that so displeased you. The famous water tasting by Iudex will assuage my pride.”
Neuvillette studied him with an incredulous look, head tilted slightly in what now seemed distinctly inhuman manner. Long silver thread of hair swayed, showing more of the blue underside, the same thread Wriothesley wanted to catch between his fingers for so long.
“Well, water should be good for you in this state.”
Neuvillette looked unconvinced, but clearly decided that trying to talk to him rationally was useless right now. He clicked his fingers to summon two silver encrusted with gems goblets to the table. He started to move away from the table, but hesitated and turned to look Wriothesley in the eyes, his own looking so straightforward, clear translucent lilacs and blues and sharp whiteness.
“Are you absolutely sure you’re fine? I can’t help but notice you have a new streak of gray in your hair.”
It was a knife under the ribs, so sharp it took a moment for the pain to even register. By all the gods, human or dragon, why would he even fucking notice.
For a long, torturous moment he wanted to let it go. He still could have dropped it, in personal matters Neuvillette was lenient to the point of indulgence, he would let this weirdness slide. It would be so easy to let himself drown in these eyes, turn this into a joke, arrange another tea tasting, smooth it over. And the worst part was that deep down, horribly, he knew that if it was only archon blood, he could’ve let it go. Between the god who’s never answered his prayers even when he was still trying to pray and the one who did, it was not much of a stretch. But… “foe of humanity”, Fontaine thrown into war against the heavens… Even if he personally was kept safe, he couldn’t ignore it.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied and stretched his lips into a smile. Not his best work, but should be enough for a non-human who had trouble reading human expressions. That dagger under his ribs felt so real that subconsciously, he smiled with closed lips to not show blood that surely must have been on his teeth. That was not the wound you could hope to survive.
Neuvillette studied him for a moment longer, hesitant, but eventually turned and walked to the wall cabinet. Wriothesley slipped the vial out of his jacket’s inner pocket and stepped up to the goblets on the table. The poison had no color or smell, and, allegedly, required a mere drop to take effect, so it should be able to go unnoticed in the silvery shadows of the cup.
“Waters of Mondstadt’s Springvale are notable for their crisp and focusing clarity of…” Neuvillette was walking back with a crystal decanter, but stopped abruptly a step away, looking at the goblets.
“Great, focusing clarity is exactly what I need right now,” Wriothesley struggled to keep his lopsided, shattered grin on as Neuvillette silently looked at him. He closed his fist, nails digging into a sliced up palm. Iudex knew, somehow he could tell, it was over.
Still without a word, Neuvillette closed the rest of the distance to the table and filled goblets with water from the decanter. Wriothesley immediately picked up his cup and downed it in one gulp.
Neuvillette watched him with a frown. Wriothesley didn’t have it in him to bullshit anymore, each word twisting the knife under his own ribs, and the silence stretched, only raindrops beating against the window in a frantic heartbeat.
________
Neuvillette watched Wriothesley drink, too quickly, like it was life saving. It didn’t make sense. He could sense the stench of poison in both cups. Why would he poison his own cup and then drink it so, not even waiting for the Iudex?
Wriothesley kept smiling, though the pain emanating from him was more suitable for a lethal wound and not a cut hand. Humans made absolutely no sense. Just as the dragon started to think he was getting some understanding, just as he thought there was a human he could find trustworthy after hundreds of years among them… He couldn’t help, but think of Vautrin. A human he trusted, a human he thought he knew... Who turned on him so drastically. But betrayal he could understand, no matter how it pained him. And yet hundreds of years later to learn it was not a betrayal, but a pretense devised by Vautrin to benefit the Iudex… That he was loyal to Neuvillette in the prison the dragon sentenced him to, without ever saying a word to him, leaving him to be eaten by sorrow for all this time?
He didn’t want to live another half a thousand years in doubt, relying on blind luck to finally learn some truth. He needed answers, now.
He circled around the table and closed the distance with the Duke in a couple of steps. Wriothesley took an instinctive step back and drew a breath through his teeth, unfitting smile finally dropping, his fists clenching with icy aura wisping over his fingers.
It wouldn’t matter. A simple vision was no match against a Sovereign.
Neuvillette raised his hand and could sense Wriothesley’s quickened heartbeat, yet he didn’t step back again.
But the Iudex knew humans were pathologically incapable of communicating openly, even for the most mundane topics. They are offended if you don’t say “Greetings” and “How are you?”, even if they never intended to tell you the truth of it. But you need to make ritualistic steps to let them do their own “Hello, thank you, I’m fine, and you?”, so you could tell them “I’m very well, thank you,” because they don’t expect sincerity for the question either. No, they abhor sincerity. But if the dance steps are taken correctly, no matter how nonsensical, then you might hope to have some meaningful communication after.
If you didn’t do the rituals humans wanted, they would simply refuse to tell you anything of the matter. He could crush the Warden in one move, but it would not bring him answers he desired. Whatever this ridiculous game was, he needed to pretend to play, at least for a time.
And so, still keeping his gaze on the determined, infuriatingly stubborn grey-blue eyes, still standing right against him, Neuvillette picked up the remaining goblet and drank out of it.
“Will you now explain the meaning of this or do you plan on dragging on this farce?” he said after, placing the goblet down on the table. He couldn’t help but sound resentful.
Wriothesley took a deep breath.
“Yeah, so, the poison I put into our drinks has an antidote. I’ve hidden it in a safe place, which I can reach within ten minutes. Otherwise the poison will start working after half an hour. Answer my questions, and if you explain yourself, I will get the antidote.”
He took a conch out of his pocket and placed it on the table, and the conch suddenly made a sound.
“Now that I have reclaimed one of the Seven Authorities from the hands of the usurpers, I have regained my true form. I am now a fully fledged dragon, powerful enough to judge the rest of the gods. My final destiny is to judge the Usurper-King in the heavens above.”
“Are these your words?” Wriothesley asked quietly when the recording stopped.
“Yes”, Neuvillette said after a pause, because they were. He watched the light flicker and die in the human’s eyes, the way he only ever saw at the moment of the especially harsh trial sentence.
“Wow,” the Duke said hoarsely and chuckled, though even the dragon could tell it was utterly humorless. “You’re just going to admit it like that, huh.”
“I do not lie.”
“Ha! So direct lying is the line you decided to draw? Turning oceans upside down and lies by omission are fine?”
“Lies by omission? I do not owe humans disclosure of my personal identity,” Neuvillette titled his head, examining the Duke, incensed at the audacity. “What do you think you even know? Humans are not of Teyvat. This land belonged to the dragons, the elements of it were attuned to us. We are the blood and flesh of this world. Foreign invaders came and waged war on us, destroyed the natural order of the world, re-shaped the land itself to suit themselves. *They* brought you here, to take the place they carved from *us*.”
Wriothesley drew in a sharp breath, clearly taken aback, looking away for a moment, but then he raised his eyes again, still stubborn.
“So you’re waging the war back?”
“You expect me to forget how the usurpers wiped out most of my people and killed me? How they stole a part of me and gave it to their own false god of life?” He was aware that his eyes started glowing, an outward sign of power accumulating, but he didn’t care to hide it now. “Yes, I will wage war on them. Some debts could only be paid in blood. I’d thought you of all humans would understand that.”
“I’ve never harmed an innocent,” Wriothesley spit out. “Or do humans not count as such? What are we to you? Invasive pests?”
For the first time, the Iudex averted his gaze.
“At first, yes,” he said finally. “Or maybe more accurately… pets of my enemy. But even while it was my primary understanding, I did not let it affect my judgment as Chief Justice. You cannot accuse me of breaking my word.”
Wriothesley took another step forward, the closest they’ve ever been, the closest any human dared to approach him.
“Breaking your word is the last fucking thing I’d care about, with everything you’ve done to us! With what…”
“Silence,” Neuvillette struck his cane in between them. Wriothesley visibly choked on a word, anger and hurt emanating from him in heated waves, but he kept silent as the Iudex continued.“If you have accusations, state them. I will not tolerate baseless insults.”
Wriothesley looked away, took a deep breath and then met his eyes squarely.
“You’ve plotted to destroy Focalors and took over Fontaine to use in a war against heavens.”
It took Neuvillette a second to process this, and then he couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous it was.
“No, I did not. Preposterous!” How could anyone believe this was incomprehensible, clearly a flimsy excuse for the conspiracy Wriothesley himself told him before.
“Oh, that’s funny to you? That’s all you have to say?”
“Of course. What would a word of… what was it?” Neuvillette narrowed his eyes, and stretched his lips in a grin that showed the fangs he spent so many centuries hiding. “Ah, “evil monster”, mean to you?”
To his surprise, Wriothesley didn’t flinch, didn’t falter, his eyes steady, resolute.
“No, don’t try this. I was… I could tell you were not human for a long time. I would’ve stood by you, water spirit, dragon or a fucking demon from the depths of the Abyss.”
Despite the icy wisps around his hands, his emotions burned white-hot bright, angry and sincere. He seemed to really believe this, and yet, he still felt betrayed by the Iudex. Neuvillette paused, thrown aback. It was so hard without being able to communicate the thoughts directly like the vishaps did. But this… There must have been another reason for what he did then.
“If my true nature is really not the cause of your hatred…” he took a step back himself, closing his hands on the handle of his cane. “Name concrete actions you believe I’ve performed. I cannot prove a negative.”
____________
Wriothesley watched Neuvillette step back, an eerie glow in his eyes softening to his usual translucent lilacs.
“Was it you who turned fontanians from oceanids into humans who can’t be dissolved by the Primordial Sea?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you do it before? In all five hundred years?”
“Such a feat requires a full authority of the Hydro Sovereign, power of the original god of life. Large part of this power was in possession of Hydro Archon, so I could not do it, even if I wanted.”
“Hydro Archon could not do it?”
“No. The Sovereign has control over the Primordial Sea, the Archon doesn’t.”
“Did you blackmail Focalors to orchestrate her death and get that power back? Because it’s the only way to save humans?”
“No,” the Iudex said with a dismissive huff. “How would I even blackmail her? I was not in control of the prophecy. You cannot possibly think me complicit with the usurpers in the heavens.”
“You had control over the Primordial Sea, though. If not complete, then considerable. You stopped the flood in the Meripode all by yourself. And so your seal was the only thing controlling the gates to the Sea,” Wriothesley narrowed his eyes. “And you made sure you will be the one called for when the flood comes to the Fortress so you could create that seal, did you not? You made me the Duke to ensure my loyalty, to know you will be the one I called when the time comes.”
“Is this what you think I am? This is what you think we…” Neuvillette looked at him with what seemed genuine surprise and sadness. “No, I did not plan it. And no, this is not why I petitioned for your title.”
After a moment Iudex’s surprise turned into incredulity.
“What purpose would it even serve? Tell me, if I did not fight for your title… No, even if I explicitly was the one who denied you. Would you then not call for me first anyway?”
Wriothesley exhaled slowly. It was true, there was no one else he would ask. Neuvillette was the most powerful being in Fountaine, raw strength and authority both, his word often more influential than that of the Archon, and demonstrably much more effective decision-wise. Even if Furina was the one who gave him the title and Neuvillette was against him, he’d step over his pride when there were so many lives on the line.
“Okay. How did you become the Iudex then?”
“Focalors sent me a letter of invitation.”
“Why? Why would she invite a mortal enemy to become Chief Justice?”
“You are asking me to answer for the actions of another. At least state the entire crime you think I’m guilty of.”
“That first, you’ve forced Focalors to made you Iudex to have a high seat in human society, then spent centuries waiting and building our trust. Then when the prophecy was finally about to strike, you put Furina on a trial to discredit her and secretly offered a deal to save the humans in exchange for her death and return of your power.”
“I see,” Neuvillette said after a pause. “This is not a plan a dragon would come up with, but I suppose it sounds plausible to someone scared of our kind. Fine. I will tell you what happened from my own perspective.”
“At the time I had no idea why she summoned me. She only explained herself right before the prophecy struck, at the very end of Furina’s trial.”
“She knew only Hydro Sovereign at full power could save fontanians. And she truly believed herself a god of justice. A just decision was to return the authority to the one it was stolen from. For that, she put her human part, Furina, on the throne, and hid her divinity in the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale, accumulating energy from the trials, for it would take much to destroy the Archon’s throne.”
“At the same time, she invited me to serve as the Iudex, so that I would come to sympathize with the humans after living among them for so long. I was not aware of her intent.”
“In the end, she destroyed the Archon throne, which meant both her own death and Hydro authority returning to me.”
Wriothesley swallowed, frowning. If this was true… It would mean he saved fontanians for no reason other than mercy. Despite his grief, despite the resentment anyone else would feel towards people who replaced his own. It felt wrong to continue pushing the dragon, but he had to.
“If you did not know that she planned to return your power… Why would you agree to come? To serve the “false god” who has your stolen power?”
Neuvillette looked away. He was silent for a long time, and when he spoke up, it was obviously through a struggle.
“I was trying to find a purpose,” he finally said, with quiet and raw grief. “My people were long gone, I had nothing to apply myself to. And I was born in this form, there had to be some reason for it. I just tried to find a meaning for my existence.”
It was horrible to hear him say it like this, private, deep pain gutted against his wish. Despite Iudex’s solemn and dignified manner, it was always obvious to the Duke that he carried a lot of sorrow in his heart. Wriothesley spent all his years as the Warden evading noisy journalists who demanded to learn people’s deepest secrets, and having to do this to Neuvillette left him feeling sick.
“I’m sorry. I truly am.”
Neuvillette looked at him with his piercing illuminated eyes.
“The next logical question for your interrogation should be why I decided to save the people of Fountaine.”
Wriothesley couldn’t stand it anymore.
“No, don’t. If all said to this point is true, I already know it. You’re far too kind to condemn all the people you’ve lived among for centuries. Even if you saw us as pets of your enemy.”
“I didn’t,” the Iudex said after a pause, almost softly. “Not at the end.”
“I believe you,” Wriothesley said with sincerity that he knew wouldn’t be trusted.
The dragon gave him a long, measuring look, head tilted to the side, guarded in a way Wriothesley was used to seeing only turned to other people. He opened a gloved palm, showing a shimmering drop of water hovering over it.
“I can show you my memories of meeting Focalors as proof.”
Wriothesley’s first instinct demanded to see that “proof”, but he realized it was his own paranoia gnawing at him, just as it was his self-loathing that told him Neuvillette couldn’t give him title without ulterior motive. It felt like looking at moonlight through the dirty windows, and he didn’t want this to be the last thing he saw in the lilac eyes..
“No. I believe you.”
Neuvillette held his eyes for another long moment and then sighed, closing his palm. “I truly do not understand you humans.”
It wasn’t over yet. Wriothesley forced himself to keep talking.
“Even with this all being true… There’s still a matter of war with the heavens.”
“What of it? You cannot tell me that Fontaine still holds loyalty to the Usurpers. Frankly, it baffles me that it ever did,” Neuvillette’s voice took on sarcastic notes that normally could never be heard from him. “Perhaps this is why they called us “primitive”, but in our kind you punished people who disobeyed you and not their children several generations later. And no vishap would be expected to meekly follow a god that gave them nothing but a death sentence for a crime of their ancestors.”
“It’s not a question of loyalty, it’s a question of casualties that a war like that would take.”
“Casualties? Do you imagine I plan to march humans to the flying island? This is *my* war, not Fontaine’s.”
“Fontaine is *your* country now, like it or not. It will answer for your actions.”
Neuvillette seemed briefly taken off-guard.
“You have a point. Perhaps I’m still too steeped in the notion of considering myself an outsider… But even so. Firstly, I do not plan to leave Fontaine for some time, until I’ve reformed it and could be sure it will stand on it’s own, which could take hundreds of years.”
Wriothesley breathed out slowly, but Neuvillette held his eyes.
“Second, if you’re concerned with repercussions for my actions, be sure that Focalors signed you a death sentence thrice over. Not only subverting a prophecy, tricking the Usurper, but also destroying the Archon’s Throne to return the authority to the Sovereign? A clear sign the usurpers are slumbering or at least are in weakened state, or they would already bring down the retribution for a sin much greater than Egeria’s.”
“At this point, I *am* the only protection Fontaine could hope for,” Neuvillette’s fingers tightened on the cane, as he looked at Wriothesley. “Unless you plan to offer them my head on the platter. It would probably work, I admit. The Usurpers are known to be partial to the convenient sacrifices as deals.”
Wriothesley swallowed a bitter chuckle.
“Yeah, after tonight, it’s fair if that’s how you think of me,” he turned, moving to the door. “I’m gonna get an antidote.”
“No need,” Neuvillette said calmly and Wriothesley froze in the middle of the room, mid-step, turning around. “Whoever told you that this… “poison” has an antidote, lied. It does not.”
“What?” his heart fell, the dagger that was lodged under his ribs suddenly sliding down to gut him open.
“This is not a poison at all. It’s a concentrated essence of the Abyss. Any poisonous effects are secondary to the corruption. A human it will kill, sure, and then the body would most likely become a possessed, shambling corpse, driven by the dark urge. A god… a lesser god it might also kill, yes, but for stronger ones it’s meant to corrupt.”
An open wound under Wriothesley’s ribcage turned into an aching fearful whirlpool, cold and black and gnawing.
“An abyss corruption doesn’t kill Sovereigns, but drives us to madness,” Neuvillette continued calmly. “Which could risk contamination of the Primordial Sea if I do eventually die while still corrupted.”
“There must be a way to stop it,” Wriothesley said hoarsely, hearing himself as if from behind a glass wall, numb and petrified. “No. No, it’s can’t be, no, listen, I…” he tried to come up with a plan and couldn’t. He was never so terrified in his life. This couldn’t happen, he could not allow it. Healers seemed useless, if it’s the Abyss curse and not poison, besides, if Neuvillette was the god of life he’d know better, wouldn’t he? But…
“I sense you’re scared. Why?” Neuvillette said suddenly, frowning. “Obviously since I’ve sensed the poison, I’ve removed it beforehand.”
“Removed?”
“It’s a liquid. I’m a Hydro Sovereign,” Neuvillette said slowly, like he was talking to an idiot. “Next time you want to kill me, maybe try something not in my direct control.”
“Fuck,” relief kicked Wriothesley under the knees and behind the eyes at the same time, leaving his head empty and legs weak. Which left him wide open for the alcohol, tiredness and general shitshow of this night to finally make a strike, now that he knew both Fontaine and Neuvillette were safe. Now he could afford to lose focus.
He stumbled blindly to the side and crashed into the sofa, crumbling to the floor. He managed to sit up and lean against the sofa instead of just sprawling prone, which at this point counted as victory. He was too dizzy to track time, but after some moments, he registered Neuvillette walking up to stop a few steps away and hover awkwardly.
“I did not mean to mislead you like this.”
“It’s fine, you’ve been doing it for years. It was just never with fear before.”
He shouldn’t have said that. But then again, what did it matter? The dragon wouldn’t get it, and Wriothesley was going to be dead in a few minutes anyway. It would probably be more polite to get out of here before he did, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. He was so fucking tired and, frankly, selfishly would want to die next to Neuvillette than alone. Even if the immortal dragon was going to remember him as a betrayer who ruined his carpet in death. Oh well, luckily, humans didn’t reincarnate, so he wouldn’t have to face it later.
“You’ve put the poison into both of our cups, but there was only one portion of an antidote,” Neuvillette said after a pause. “Why?”
He shrugged, not looking up.
“Well, either you really were a plotting tyrant, and then I don’t want to live in the world where for so many years I’ve… trusted you. Or you were not, and then I do not want to live in a world where I did this to you.”
He heard Neuvillette sigh, with slow and heavy exasperation, and then the dragon sat down on the sofa. Wriothesley could see his crossed legs and hands closing on the handle of the cane from the corner of his eye.
“Absolutely nothing could be simple with you humans, could it?”
“I’m sorry, if it would even mean anything to you,” he wanted to explain himself, but the apologies from someone who betrayed him were probably the last thing the Iudex wanted to hear right now. Wriothesley could still be useful though. “I think you should seriously look into the conspiracy. The initial thread I got was from the prisoner named Jacque, but the real…”
“I think we should postpone this discussion until you’re no longer drunk and falling in pieces on my floor.”
Wriothesley blinked.
“I… The poison is gonna kick in in a few minutes?”
“I already told you I’ve removed it.”
He turned his head, finally looking up at Neuvillette.
“Even from my goblet?”
“Obviously,” the Iudex looked briefly scandalized. “Why would I leave it?”
“...Because I tried to poison you?”
“That’d be barbaric.”
“That’d be a fitting sentence,” Wriothesley chuckled, looking away. “Oh, sorry, of course. You’ll have me on the trial then.”
The dragon was silent for a long time.
“No,” he said finally.
“What? Why?”
“This situation is largely my own fault,” Neuvillette said, melancholic and very tired, but his voice was still firm. “I should have seen this change of power as a weak point to attract the opportunist piranhas. And as my true identity is kept secret, I’ve only made it easier for them to exploit both the existing prejudices and the insecurities of this turbulent time.”
“You can’t take responsibility for that.”
“Of course I can,” Neuvillette said, with immediate certainty of stating an absolute fact and not an opinion. “What else are the gods for?”
Wriothesley chuckled roughly. Historically, the gods were for watching humans suffer and judging how boring the spectacle is.
“Fortunately, I am not bound by the laws of either humans or heavens. I can afford the luxury of mercy.”
Wriothesley looked up. Of course. He decided to forgive and save his foes, what else could you expect.
“Don’t pity me. I am a poor place to bestow divine mercy. I knew what I was doing, and it’s what I expected to die for, not live with.”
“You will have to,” Neuvillette said, meeting his eyes, strict and solemn. ”You are needed by your people.”
Wriothesley ran his fingers through his hair and buried face in his hands, fighting an urge to lean against the Iudex’ legs. “I had always failed the ones who needed me the most, didn’t I? From all these years ago, it hasn't changed.”
“That’s not true. What you said about your title…” Neuvillette said suddenly. “Even with the worst assumptions about my plotting, I had no way of knowing when the Usurpers’ prophecy would finally strike, and that you will be the Meropide’s Warden at that time. There were Wardens more financially successful or the ones whose loyalty could really be bought with such a favor, but I’ve never petitioned for a title to the Warden before. That title was recognition that you brought fairness to the Fortress, a real option for people to start anew. I thought we had an unspoken understanding of that.”
He thought he reached the far end of how painful it could feel, but now he took a ragged breath and it sliced his throat down to the collarbones.
“I know, I thought so too. I thought… Listen, I’m sorry. No matter how much you despise me now, believe me, I hate myself much more.”
“I don’t despise you,” Neuvillette said, almost with a surprise, turning his head to catch Wriothesley’s eyes, which he desperately avoided. “I would, if I could suspect you of selfishness in this. But I believe you did what you thought was to protect your people, and I can’t despise that, even if I find the method distasteful.”
Wriothesley couldn’t bring himself to talk, even breathing was painful and shaky through a lump in his throat.
“Maybe it’s just the clearest sign that I do not belong here after all,” Neuvillette said with resignation after a beat. “At that recent investigation, you were the one who convinced me I was accepted by Fontaine, even had an influence in shaping it. If even you came to stop believing that…”
“No. I didn’t, I…” he finally managed to speak up and willed himself to concentrate through the dizziness and despair. “In my office, I left a signed confession of attempting to kill you. For personal vendetta. Your death would have been seen as a tragedy, your influence solidified even more.”
“You would let your own memory be tainted to preserve my image, even if it was false?”
“Well, I already have a pretty sordid history, don’t I? Not much to ruin and not hard to believe I would do it. Of course it’d be worth preserving your legacy. The fairness, the trial is the only place where the wealthy and the poor, strong and weak would be treated equally,” he shrugged helplessly, struggling to spell this out. “I would have still believed in what you represented even if I could no longer believe you.”
He finally looked up to see Neuvillette looking at him thoughtfully.
“Don’t give up on us,” he said quietly. “At least on everyone else. Please.”
The dragon was silent for some time, looking away, his face unmoving, unreadable.
“This is the first time you’ve asked anything of me directly,” he said finally. “I’ll remember.”
He looked back at Wriothesley, frowning.
“But you’re in such sharp pain, it should be treated. How badly was your hand wounded? Show me.”
“It’s fine. It’s nothing.”
But Neuvillette already extended an open hand and leveled him an expecting glare, so Wriothesley had no choice but to reluctantly place his own into the gloved palm.
“You still have little glass shards there.”
“It’s fine, don’t bother. I’ve dealt with worse.”
But the Iudex was already untangling the bandages, loop after loop, methodically, carefully, and Wriothesley willed himself to keep still, to keep breathing evenly, looking up from where he was sitting on the floor, his treacherous fingers twitching, his heartbeat echoing in his ears. Neuvillette got rid of the last of black damp strips of cloth and looked down, frowning, before swiping a thumb over Wriothesley’s palm. His wounds prickled as the tiny glistening shards were forced out of his flesh and his hand shuddered, mostly from surprise.
“Apologies.”
“It’s fine.”
It was not fine, but for completely different reasons. Neuvillette’s thumb slid over his palm again, his touch feeling light and cool, and too, too gentle, and the slices closed with no scars left. Almost numbly, Wriothesley watched gloved fingertips become stained with his blood, and it felt wrong, almost obscene to dirty the impeccable attire like that. But then even through the obedient haze the thought struck him. If Neuvillette could sense emotions just by being nearby and he could read the entire lifespan of the tea bush by tasting a cup, then what could touching blood tell him?..
“Ah. I should have realized that the emotions I’ve felt from the tea were far too strong for an unthinking plant,” Neuvillette’s fingers stopped moving, lingered for a moment and then slowly circled Wriothesley’s palm in a gesture he’d read as caress if it wasn’t so unthinkable. “It was your yearning that amplified the taste. A dream of rain for a lifetime raised in a drought.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look up, all thoughts scattered, eyes fixed on the gloved fingers on his palm, until they finally started to move away, and then instinctively, he closed his hand and caught them. For a moment he waited for a divine retribution to strike him down for the audacity, and when it didn’t happen, he finally met Neuvillette’s eyes, and they were soft lilacs, not radiant anger.
“You are misguided, I’m afraid,” he said, and it sounded patient and just a little sad. “We are of different worlds. No matter how much I might look like a human, I’m not and I’ll never be one.”
Wriothesley held his gaze and carefully, slowly tagged the glove off. Neuvillette’s brows shot up, but he didn’t move. His hand would be the epitome of what was usually described as aristocratic - narrow, with long, elegant fingers, pale and soft, making Wriothesley’s hand look even more dark and rough by contrast. But there *was* something out of ordinary - the dusting of pearly blue scales at his knuckles. And with every second of being free of the glove, the scales spread, a gentle shimmer of the waves licking farther into the sand of the coast, and the short nails started darkening and elongating.
Wriothesley smiled and, holding Neuvillette’s eyes, pressed his lips against the scales on the dragon’s knuckles. “I wouldn’t want something you are not.”
He couldn’t believe his own audacity, but, well, what did he have to lose after tonight?
“I don’t think you realize how far the differences run.”
“I don’t think you realize how strong human desires run,” he said, lips still against Neuvillette’s knuckles, but then breathed out and forced himself to let go of the Iudex’ hand.. “But it doesn’t matter if you don’t care.”
Suddenly, instead of moving away, Neuvillette’s fingers moved to catch Wriothesley’s chin, and the human froze, holding his breath.
“If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t even let you into my office so late,” the dragon said calmly, slowly moving his thumb over Wriothesley’s lower lip, long dark claw pressing just on the verge of drawing blood. “You think I would indulge anyone else in playing this pretend poison game?”
This hit Wriothesley harder than alcohol. He opened his mouth to let Neuvillette’s thumb in, pointedly holding his eyes. Iudex’ face stayed calm, but narrow white pupils pulsed, flaring up, making for a moment anything seem possible, and Wriothesley grinned, taking more of the dragon’s thumb in.
After a heartbeat, Neuvillette moved his arm, letting go of Wriothesley and folding his hands on the handle of the cane in a familiar gesture. But now, the orderly gloved fingers intertwined with bare fingers, with deep blue and black scales covering almost all of visible skin, dark claws settling against expensive cloth, gold embellishments on one hand and gold ridges growing on the knuckles Wriothesley just kissed on the other hand, maddeningly tempting.
“This is not a conversation we should have when you’re in drunken shock.”
“Listen, I’ve never been more sure of anyth…” Wriothesley managed to get out, but Neuvillette raised black-blue, scaly, storm-swirled, golden-ridged hand and snapped the clawed fingers and the world went dark.
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