Work Text:
Sigewinne is up to something. Wriothesley knows she is because despite the fact that they just received a shipment of medical supplies last week, she is insisting they are out of bandages and that he must go get some right away. He severely doubts that they have managed to go through them all in such a short amount of time, but he lets his curiosity get the better of him and plays along with it anyways. Whatever the melusine is up to, Wriothesley trusts her, and he takes the list she gives him and goes topside.
It's been awhile since he's been to the Court for anything other than a meeting at the Palais, and it's been weeks even since he's done that. There had been a rash of new prisoners that autumn with the take down of a large smuggling ring which had led to increased paperwork as well as a need for more disciplinary action than usual. New inmates always stir things up as they challenge the system of authority or cause trouble with the wrong person. Things have begun to settle, though, and he tries not to worry about it too much as he's greeted by the cool November breeze and warm sun on his face.
He heads straight to the shops to work through the list Sigewinne had given him —she wants much more than bandages it seems— and is immediately waylaid by Charlotte.
"Your Grace!" she greets enthusiastically, stepping in front of him before he has time to disappear around a corner and away from her.
"Charlotte, lovely to see you," he lies and she grins at him. He's not fooling her even a little bit, but this is a familiar game between them. In truth, he has a lot of respect for Charlotte and her work —he's just interested in becoming one of her subjects.
"And lovely to see you!" she says, voice chipper. "It's not often any of us see you around the Court. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"Just picking up some supplies."
"Interesting," she says even though it's not at all interesting. "And would you perhaps have time for a quick little interview while you're here?"
It's the same old refrain and he tries not to roll his eyes. "Not today."
She grins, having expected his answer. "Well, you can't blame me for trying. But, while you're out and about, may I suggest stopping by Cafe Lutece? Arouet has taken up making his own tea blends recently."
This, however, is not a part of their game. His love for tea is no secret since he orders so much of it, but why is Charlotte suggesting this detour in his day? He narrows his eyes a little, searching her face for some kind of ulterior motive. She smiles back at him, placid and unbothered.
"Thaaanks," he says slowly. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Great," she says. "I'll be in touch about that interview!" And with that she disappears again before Wriothesley can get a word in edgewise.
Well, he thinks, that was strange. He pushes it from his mind and resumes his errands.
He's just acquired the bandages and is on his way to the craft supply store for more sticker paper when he runs into Navia.
"Wriothesley!" she greets cheerily, pushing her sunglasses up and smiling. A moment later, Clorinde appears at her side.
"Navia," he says with a nod, "Clorinde. Nice to see you both." Unlike with Charlotte, he means it this time. Both women have become close friends of his and he hasn't seen either in weeks. And if the way their standing so close it anything to go by, he thinks he knows why Clorinde cancelled their last meeting.
"How have you been?" he asks, pointedly glancing to where Clorinde has slipped her arm into Navia's. "Anything interesting happen lately?"
Clorinde glares at him but Navia laughs.
"Ever so astute, our Wriothesley," she says. "Why yes, actually."
"Navia," Clorinde says, "do we need to talk about this in the street?"
"Of course not," she replies. "We can talk about it over some sweets. Will you join us for some afternoon tea?" This last bit she directs at Wriothesley.
"Sure," he agrees, because he was going to get tea anyways. Charlotte's mention of Cafe Lucete had stuck in his mind and he knew he would regret not investigating these new tea blends if he went back to the fortress without stopping by. "I just have to pick up some things for Sigewinne first."
"How is Sigewinne these days?" Clorinde asks.
"As well as ever. Bossy. Look at this shopping list she gave me." He pulls the folded piece of paper out of his pocket and hands it over. Clorinde unfolds it and her lips twitch in, amused.
"I can see why she needs more sticker paper, this is covered with them."
"She does love to decorate." He'd pulled two off of himself before he left. Normally he doesn't mind but they were on his boots and he knew they would just fall off over the course of the day and he doesn't need to be stopped for littering.
"Does that say mecha flowers?" Navia asks, scrunching her nose up. "And so many beauty magazines."
"She has a whole collection of them," Wriothesley replies. "I don't understand how much can change on a month to month basis, but what do I know? Nothing, if you ask her."
Both women find this very amusing and he snatches the paper back as they laugh. "Let me get this sticker paper and I'll meet you at Cafe Lucete."
Twenty minutes later he's pondering the new tea menu Arouet has concocted and wondering if it's too late to back out. Wriothesley prefers a black tea and, he admits, is pretty picky about them. He's deeply unsure about whatever "rainbow bulle tea with a hint of marcotte" is.
"A bright, floral taste that will delight the senses and bring to mind the warmer days of the year," Arouet says proudly when Wriothesley asks.
He tries not to grimace. "Do you have any earl grey back there?"
Arouet's face falls a little but he nods. "Of course, your grace."
Wriothesley finds Clorinde and Navia's table while he waits for his tea. They're tucked away in a corner, each with a coffee in front of them and a plate of pastries between them.
"There you are," Navia says, "we were worried you may have ditched us."
"And risk the Spina's ire? I would never," he insists, helping himself to one of the conch madeleines on the plate.
They spend a pleasant half hour in each other's company, chatting about the goings on at the Court. It takes no prodding at all to get Navia to spill the details of her and Clorinde's current courtship, a term she uses with much humor and delight and seems to embarrass the other woman. He admires the forward way that Navia does everything in her life. She never holds herself back from anything, her personality and kindness filling up every space that she's in. He understands Clorinde's love for her and envies her fearlessness.
It's a fearlessness he wishes he shared in this regard. He hates to admit that he's been hiding feelings away, too scared to act on them, but it's true. Too nervous to upset the delicate balance between a work relationship and a friendship, let alone to reach for something more.
"It was nice seeing you both," he says as they get ready to part. "I now have to go find mecha flowers. Do either of you know what those are? Or where I can find them?"
They exchange another one of their looks that he can't decipher.
"No idea," Navia says. "Maybe ask at Leschots?"
He nods, bids them farewell, and makes his way towards Quartier Lyonnais. When he finds himself face to face with Chiori, he begins to get suspicious of all the distractions he's finding himself faced with. He's outside of her boutique, sure, but that does not explain her sudden appearance in front of him and her insistence that he needs a new tie.
"When was the last time you replaced this?" she asks, eyeing it with disdain.
"It's not my only tie," he protests. "And it's fine."
"It looks like your only tie," she replies, "and that is your problem. Come inside, I cannot allow you to walk around like this anymore."
"Listen, I appreciate your concern," he says, trying to extract himself from her hold. She'd hooked her arm in his and is now steering him towards the door. "But I'm a little busy at the moment."
"With what? You're never in the Court and this won't take very long. Don't be difficult, your grace. You're a duke, you have to keep up a certain appearance."
It's impossible to argue with Chiori and, not wanting to risk life or limb, he follows her inside. One of Chioriya's staff, Laetitia he thinks her name is, gives him a bright smile when they enter, a few ties already in hand. As if she had been prepared for just this development in her day.
"Your grace! How excellent to see you!"
"And you as well," he replies, giving in to whatever is happening. It's too much coincidence, all this distraction. He knew when Sigewinne gave him the list that the melusine was clearly plotting something, although what he doesn't know, but he's now almost certain that she has employed the help of everyone in Fontaine.
So he gives himself over to Chiori's expertise, allowing her to pick three new ties for him as well as fit him for a new waistcoat. He does not want or need a new waistcoat, but he picks out a bright cerulean fabric anyways and tries not to let himself ruminate too hard on the way the color draws him in.
By the time Chiori is finished with him, an hour has passed and he has to rush towards Leschots before the shop closes for the day. Already the sun is starting to sink behind the buildings and the air, pleasantly cool before, now has a bite to it.
He makes it just in time, catching Livre by surprise and then confusion as Wriothesley asks about mecha flowers.
"I admit, your grace, that I have never heard of such thing. I am not sure they exist, but I am very intrigued by the prospect. I cannot help you today, but if you give me some time, I may be able to create something for you."
Wriothesley nods because, at this point in the day, he is not at all surprised to find that mecha flowers don't even exist. He has a bag full of beauty magazines, bandages, sticker paper, and ties, and he feels very much like he has been sent on a wild goose chase all day.
"Thank you, Livre," he says, "if you come up with anything, please let me know."
He makes his way back across the Court and is almost all the way to the desencion point, ready to to finally return to the comfort of his office, when he catches sight of a familiar blue out of the corner of his eye. He turns to find Neuvillette striding towards him and his breath catches in his throat. He looks beautiful in the low, glimmering light of the sunset, his robes rustling slightly in the breeze.
"Aw, Wriothesley, what a pleasure to see you," he says, voice warm and genuine. Like he really is happy to see him. The thought of it makes Wriothesley's heart squeeze behind his ribs, the admiration and affection he holds for the Iudex flaring to life inside of him.
He doesn't know exactly when it started, this yearning, but it has grown these last few months into a sharp ache.
"And you as well, Monsieur," he says, smiling softly. Some of that affection is slipping free, he knows it, but he thinks of Clorinde and Navia and the way their hands had slipped together as they walked away from him, and he doesn't try to mask the bubbling of feelings inside of him. It's a small bit of bravery, but the way Neuvillette is looking at him now… perhaps it's worth it,
"Unfortunately, I am on my way back to Meropide, if you needed something from me. I have to get this stuff to Sigewinne." He holds up the bag, knowing full well that is Neuvillette wishes a meeting with him, he'd follow him anywhere. He tries not to work into the night, but there are sacrifices he's willing to make if it means spending more time with Fontaine's Iudex.
"No, nothing of the sort," Neuvillette replies. "I simply wished to say hello. Although, I did promise Sigewinne I would come and see her. I know you have been very busy with all the new inmates and it's hard for her to get away."
"I'm not keeping her down there," Wriothesley says, "I promise. You know how she is."
Neuvillette smiles, a small thing that makes Wriothesley's heart leap. "I do know, do not worry, your grace, I am not accusing you of holding her hostage. Would you mind if I accompany you?"
"Not at all," Wriothesley replies, trying to keep himself calm. Neuvillette rarely comes to the fortress and his presence will undoubtedly upset a handful of the inmates, but he finds it hard to care about that with the man standing beside him. He'd deny him nothing and he relishes even this small amount of time with him as they descend into the ocean.
When they're finally inside the fortress, Wriothesley is surprised by the quiet. Things seem to have calmed down considerably and he's glad to not be walking in on a hundred issues to be settled immediately. He's also glad there are no inmates hanging about to catch sight of the man who had sent them here.
He accompanies Neuvillette to the infirmary, ready to hand off the bag he's been carrying around all day, growing heavier and heavier with every added item. It seems like nothing now, this wild goose chase Sigewinne had sent him on. He still doesn't know the purpose of it, but with Neuvillette here with him, it's hard for him to care much.
Being around Neuvillette is easy. Fontaine's Iudex has relaxed a small amount in the months since the flood, despite all the work that had to be done and still continues to pile up. He seems more comfortable, at least with Wriothesley, their congenial business relationship transforming into what he feels is a true friendship.
"Sigewinne?" he asks, entering the infirmary and finding it empty. The lights are off and there's not even a patient resting in one of the beds. Strange.
Neuvillette pokes his head inside, sweeping his gaze over the room. "Has she already retired for the night?"
"This early? No. She's up to something. I don't know what, but she's had me running around the Court all day for things I know she doesn't need."
"Oh? I must admit, that does sound like something Sigewinne might do."
"Better check the office then," Wriothesley says. He's tired but he's also intrigued and buoyed by having Neuvillette at his side. He looks out of place within the dark walls of Meropide, but there's an elegance to the way he walks, and Wriothesley is exhilarated by the sound of his shoes clicking against the hard floor. He needs to get a grip.
He inclines his head at the guard outside his door who nods back but avoids his gaze. That is also strange, and he debates stopping to pepper them with questions but decides the best course of action is to simply go inside and find out what Sigewinne is up to on his own.
He pushes open the door and freezes, a chorus of disjointed shouts of "Surprise!" and "Happy Birthday!" ringing out from inside. Eyes wide, he takes in the scene. The normally sparse bottom floor of his office has been decorated with paper chains and balloons, and filled with tables and chairs from the Coupon Cafe. And scattered amongst the hijacked furniture are the familiar faces of his friends. Clorinde and Navia who are grinning at him with party hats on, and Lumine with her bright smile, Paimon next to her with a cookie stuffed in her mouth. Even Jurieu and Lourvine are here, standing just a tad too close for people who claim to not be able to stand each other.
And in the middle of them all is Sigewinne, eyes sparkling as she beams at him. Wriothesley is speechless.
"What…" he begin and trails of, allowing the melusine to take his hand and pull him inside. Neuvillette follows at his back, closing the door behind him.
"It's your birthday, your grace!" Sigewinne tells him and Wriothesley blinks. He has to think hard about the date, his mind spinning as he tries to remember. November 23rd, that's right. It's not his real birthday —at least he doesn't think it is— but it's what he had put down on his intake papers all those years ago when he'd come to Meropide as a boy. In truth, he's not even quite sure how old he is, the day passing him by almost every year without consequence.
It's never occurred to him that it mattered or that anyone else might care about such a thing.
"Huh," he says, trying to swallow back some of the emotion in his voice. "I guess it is."
"I can't believe you forgot your own birthday!" Navia exclaims and Wriothesley is reminded of the way he'd conveniently bumped into her and Clorinde earlier. The way he'd conveniently bumped into so many people. He looks down at Sigewinne, holding out the bag of things he'd collected for her.
"You sent me on a wild goose chase of a shopping trip and employed half of Fontaine to keep me distracted."
Her smiles grows even wider and she takes the bag, not even bothering to look inside. "I needed to keep you occupied, your grace. You have spent far too much time here lately. I was afraid you would hurry back and ruin everything."
He's not upset about her deception and even if he was, he would never be able to stay that way with her looking at him like that. Instead he turns to Neuvillette. "Were you in on this?"
Neuvillette has the grace to look slightly abashed, the tips of his ear going pink which is so unbearably adorable that Wriothesley's heart feels like it's going to leap out of his chest.
"Guilty," the man says. "Sigewinne can be quite persuasive, as you know, and I… I thought the idea of a birthday celebration would be nice."
It is nice. Wriothesley can't remember the last time anyone had done something for his birthday, if ever.
"I…" He pauses, trying to steady the emotions tumbling around inside of him. "Thank you." He turns to look over the room. "All of you."
His friends —and when did he get so many of those anyways?— give him more well wishes, patting him on the back and shoving a plate with a piece of cake into his hand.
"Who made this?" he asks, taking in the messy pink frosting and blue flowers.
"Me!" Sigewinne declares and he tries not to grimace.
Navia appears at her side. "With my help," she interjects. "I promise, there are no hidden vegetables in there."
"Oh no," Sigewinne says, shaking her head. "Those are in the cookies."
Paimon, who it seems has eaten several at this point, makes a face.
"You couldn't tell?" Lumine asks, amused. "Or did you eat them so fast you couldn't taste them?"
"Hey!" Paimon protests, putting her little hands on her hips and Wriothesley chuckles as they argue.
As far as parties go, it's a calm one, much to his relief. Soft music plays as people chat and Sigewinne seems to have set up a few silly games which he humors her with, allowing himself to be blindfolded and pin a paper party hat onto a drawing of a sea otter hanging on one of the walls. When he pulls the blindfold off, he finds the hat is hovering over it's tail. Clorinde teases him about his bad aim and when he turns he finds Neuvillette's eyes on his. For a moment, he sees nothing in his gaze but such soft affection that it knocks the air from his lungs.
And then Clorinde is taking the blindfold from him so she can fasten it around Navia who has declared that she will be the hat-pinning champion of the party. She beats him soundly, placing the hat perfectly on the otter's head, and he bows to her victory before going to Neuvillette's side.
"I'm surprised you've stayed so long," he says as casually as he can. "I know parties aren't really your thing."
"I am enjoying myself," Neuvillette says, "and it is nice to see everyone having such a good time. I would not miss a moment."
Wriothesley nods, gathering his courage. "I'm happy you're here," he says, holding Neuvillette's gaze with his own. He takes a breath. "I confess that when I ran into you earlier, I was hoping to spend time with you."
Neuvillette's eyes widen just a little, surprised, but then crinkle at the edges as he smiles. "I am very happy to hear that. I have a confession to make as well. I find that I… I had started to miss seeing you. It's been so long since you have come in for a meeting. When Sigewinne suggested the party, I was very happy to help."
The words, so sincere, wash over Wriothesley as they continue to stare at each other. They're standing so close, enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off of Neuvillette, and it takes everything in him not to reach out and grab the other man's gloved hand with his own.
"Is that so?" he asks, tilting his head to bring them even closer. "I missed you, too, Neuvillette."
The Iudex blushes again, pink spreading from his ears and across his face. No one is paying attention to them, thankfully, or at least they're being courteous enough to pretend that they aren't paying attention.
"Stay for tea after everyone leaves?" Wriothesley asks, emboldened by this entire exchange. "I know, I know, you don't like tea. But I have some fancy Snezhnayan water, I know how much you enjoy it."
"I would like that very much."
Wriothesley's heart soars.
From the center of the room, Sigewinne declares a new game and motions him forward to play. Jurieu and Lourvine start arguing about whether or not Jurieu is cheating while Clorinde mediates. The prison outside the walls of the office seems far away, if only for a little while, and amongst his friends, Wriothesley feels joyful and light. It's his birthday, and even if it's not really, he knows that there are people in the world who care about him as much as he cares for them. It's more than enough.