[ The Traveller and his companion's long since left them, and yet Neuvillette remains even after their conversation's ended. Respect dictates he keep from watching Navia as she has her moments of privacy, but he stands in such a way that she and the graveyard remains in the corner of his vision. Truthfully, Neuvillette's uncertain as to the proper distance one should keep from someone who'd come to visit their dead. The last thing he wants to do is to take any time Navia might have with her father away from her, especially after everything that's happened since he passed.
And yet something-- he's not sure what to call it, maybe propriety, maybe compassion, maybe that undefinable nail that's been pounded into his head since Navia came to visit him in the Palais Mermonia-- keeps him rooted to the spot. Neuvillette doesn't want to part from her just yet, not when the relief of her forgiveness thrums in his blood like a drug.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices she's turned to leave. Neuvillette turns his body to face her better then, and only through his own mental fortitude does he manage to open his mouth to speak once she approaches him. ]
Will you be returning home on your own this evening, Ms. Navia?
[ Strange. He can hardly remember the last time he felt so... nervous. But perhaps it doesn't matter. ]
[in the years following her father's untimely death, navia found herself compiling a list, of sorts, of stories she wished to share with him? of questions she wished to demand answers to. every day brought something new; the list seemed to double in size with each passing month, which sometimes—sometimes—coaxed a small smile to her lips. she always did love to talk, as her papa frequently (and oh-so fondly) pointed out.
funny, then, how soon she falls silent while standing before his grave.
but even with that seemingly never-ending list lodged in the forefront of her mind, navia knows that healing takes time—which, thanks to her father's selflessness, she has an abundance of. there is no shame in leaving today to return tomorrow, or the next day, or the next; her papa was, above all else, a gentleman, which is why navia turns toward poisson with a curiously light heart. melus will be waiting for her back at their base, she is sure. melus, a cup of fresh tea in hand, and—
—ah.
to navia's credit, she handles the shock that is the sight of the chief justice with grace—because even with his respectful distance, failing to notice his continued presence is, she feels, on her. has he been waiting here the entire time? if so: for what? perhaps he found her apology ambiguous, if not downright disingenuous; perhaps he's thus looking to apologize yet again, despite her insistence that he stop.
or, as she approaches him: perhaps he's simply wondering what he's meant to do in this awkward situation, for while he's somewhat difficult to read—that placid exterior disguises such deceptive depths!—navia still senses... nervousness, she thinks. discomfort. in this moment, neuvillette seems less an untouchable figure and more a man simply wondering how, precisely, one approaches a lady with whom one shares an, ah, uncomfortable history.
...hmm. lightly, almost gently:]
Shouldn't I be asking the same of you, Monsieur Neuvillette? Poisson is much closer than the Palais Mermonia.
[which sounds vaguely threatening, if one squints, hence the quick addition that is:]
In all the years I've worked for the Court, I've never had to recalibrate the Oratrice.
[ Neuvillette's arms are crossed over his chest, his lips pressed in a thin line as he considers the machine before them. He looks at the same scales visible to the public whenever a trial happens, appearing for all the world like nothing's wrong, and then reaches out to press a gloved hand over its centre. ]
I... know how, theoretically. [ His head dips. In a full courtroom, he would never allow such a gesture, but for the moment they're the only two present in this empty, grand hall. ] But I worry my own understanding of what's right may not quite align with what actually is.
Hence my need for your assistance. I believe [ and here Neuvillette faces Navia properly ] your sense of justice in context of our citizens is more comprehensive than whatever's written in our laws.
Between my knowledge of texts and your practical experience, I imagine that together we create a wider perspective. Do you agree?
[ the very idea that the oratrice would need calibrating at all is.. flabbergasting to her, and likely to all of fontaine, indeed. never once has it failed to agree with the chief justice's notion of what is right and good, and of course this recent incongruity has stirred the masses. the talk has not ceased.
though navia is here to help, she's also admittedly slaking her own curiosity, here. ]
Well, that's certainly high praise from the Chief Justice himself, but.. yes, I agree.
[ he might represent the mind of fontaine, but if anything, it is navia who is the beating heart. she would never presume to speak for all fontainians, of course, but she certainly has experience with the people. she adjusts the paper bag on her arm with a smile. ]
[ the pie! she's eager to give it to him, but.. later. that can be their treat, once they've finished the investigation properly. navia glances to her right and left, before spotting a small podium. ]
This should do just fine.
[ carefully, she sets the bag down so it won't tip over, then strides up toward him. ]
I'm ready when you are.
action | for administrateur. i went with first date btw SOBS
[ Furina had been almost insufferable when Neuvillette said he wouldn't be available for four hours in the evening on the sixth day of the month. The only balm he had from her stream of questions had been the letter he'd received only minutes after having that conversation, in which the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide had said yes-- a letter that he'd had folded and tucked away in the inner pocket of his coat.
And it's funny, really, that he'd felt so lightened by the confirmation. Neuvillette only understands elation like understanding events through a window-- witnessed, always, but never truly there-- but the lax feeling in his chest matches what he imagines to be the human experience of it. He's happy, he'd thought. He's looking forward to this blooming... thing with Wriothesley, whatever form it decides to take.
The letter he'd written in turn had given Wriothesley details of their meeting: in Fontaine's downtown, by a fountain not nearly as grandiose as the Fountain of Lucine, but which the area's locals treat with far more reverence. What few times his duties had required him to visit Fontaine's downtown area had shown him the people there didn't care nearly as much about the Iudex's presence as anyone in uptown; for a date, he's sure, this is a good thing.
True enough, when he's walking the streets right before sunset on the promised day, there's hardly any gossip that follows him. In fact, nobody even affords him a second glance, even as he walks the streets in the ceremonial robes of his position. Considering the people here aren't nearly as notorious or as bizarrely concerned with the high-faluting drama of the uptown dwellers, however, he imagines whatever occurs in the Opera Epiclese is beyond them.
All the better, though.
When he arrives at the meeting place, Neuvillette seats himself on a bench by the fountain. He's early, of course, and as he sits he shuts his eyes and empties his mind. In those few seconds, the children playing by the fountain disappear; the people making their wishes by water fade away; the thoughts of humans glancing at their reflections in puddles from the rain that happened earlier this morning turn into nothing...
And, even if just for a moment, he catches that flame of determination he's already begun to associate with Wriothesley as the man walks the city-- back above water, back where he can be seen.
Once again, the knowledge they're going to spend time together makes Neuvillette feel lighter. But this time, as his eyes open and a smile curves his lips, he decides not to question it.
That everyone else has gone muted in the wake of Wriothesley's presence is a blessing on its own. ]
[There hadn't been a lot for Wriothesley to do back in the Fortress before he could leave -- most of his work had been done in the previous days -- so with the response letter he'd received tucked into a pocket, he'd begun the rather long path to the surface from the Fortress. Sigewinne had gone to see him off, rather pleased to see him heading to the overworld -- as far as she was concerned he could really use the fresh air more often. It wasn't the fresh air or the sunlight that he was most looking forward to this time.
'The next time you visit, have dinner with me' had been Neuvillette's words, and throughout his duties until the Iudex's next free day those words had been on his mind quite frequently. Really, it had been more difficult than usual to focus at times, with his thoughts so frequently cast back to that afternoon of music, dance... and discoveries.
As he'd made his way along the path from the Opera Epiclese to Marcotte Station, he was rather pleased that almost nobody paid him any mind. Indeed, only the Melusines on patrol greeted him cheerfully, while humans were generally content to ignore anyone outside of their own purposes.
Such a quiet trip suited him just fine, especially with how distracted he was.
He'd read the details of their evening once more, Fontaine's scenery passing him by with the gentle progress of the Navia line toward the city proper. He did try to give Elphane the attention she deserved for her efforts at her job... but it really was difficult for him to think of anything other than the approaching dinner.
Wriothesley had no trouble navigating to the fountain they were to meet at, something learned from his youth and never forgotten, and he doesn't even bother to resist as his steps pick up the pace on his way down. Though the lift feels even slower than his ascent from the Fortress as he waited to reach the main station downtown. Maybe he was feeling more impatient to arrive than he'd initially realized.
His pace is quick as he steps back out into the fresh air, eyes cast around for a familiar figure -- one he immediately feels lighter upon catching sight of. There's a quiet ease to his expression as he approaches.]
I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long.
[Honestly, he'd arrived a bit early himself... but with Neuvillette already sitting on a nearby bench, he couldn't really be sure just how long he'd been waiting.]
[ It's... pleasant, Neuvillette decides, hearing Wriothesley's voice again after so many weeks of not doing so. Having seen him approach, Neuvillette had continued to wait patiently where he was seated-- he was, however, completely unaware of the way his lips had curved more and more the closer Wriothesley got.
There's a real smile on his face when he says, ] No, you've come right on time. [ And though it's muted as most of his expressions go, there's a brightness to his eyes that can't be denied. He's uncertain how to react to this anticipation, to the way that it feels as if bubbles have begun floating through this human-shaped vessel of his, but as he sets a hand on his chest and bows, he's more concerned with Wriothesley's reactions more than his own, anyway. ]
I'm pleased you were able to make time for me, Wriothesley. [ His hand falls, resting idly by his side. The itch to take Wriothesley's hand in his own, to feel his warmth again for the first time since that afternoon they spent together, makes his fingers twitch. But for now, he resists, and it's strange to truly put effort into restraint for the first time since his hatching. ]
I've... truly been looking forward to seeing you again.
[Neuvillette isn't the only one whose smile deepens by the time they're near each other again, and Wriothesley's self-restraint is put to the test -- all he really wants to do is close the distance between them more fully. Still though he finds himself ever conscious of Neuvillette's station -- he would do his level best to maintain the exact amount of distance the Iudex did.
At least while in public.
He follows Neuvillette's bow with one of his own, eyes never once straying from the other man's even so.]
I've been looking forward to seeing you ever since I left your office that day. [His voice is quiet, conversation just between them. He only pauses a brief moment, next words considered as he settles to stand only slightly closer than politeness dictated.]
Whenever you have time to see me, I'll always make time to see you, too. [They both knew that if anything serious arose, it would be the exception to this promise... but any time he could see Neuvillette, he was more than prepared to arrange his schedule accordingly.]
"Always", hm? [ Though his head dips slightly with the quiet chuckle that leaves him, Neuvillette's eyes inevitably lift to meet Wriothesley's gaze once more. Confidently, but with as even a tone as ever, he murmurs, ] I'd be lying if I said I didn't appreciate the special treatment.
[ As he's wanted to since they last parted, Neuvillette reaches down to take Wriothesley's hand. Even through the fabric of their gloves Wriothesley's as warm as he had been-- solid, too, when Neuvillette gives a small squeeze.
But, as opposed to walking with their hands connected, he turns and pulls Wriothesley's hand up enough to rest on his inner bicep as they walk side by side.
He's walked like this many times before with particularly important dignitaries, especially if they were special guests of the Hydro Archon herself. In that sense the gesture isn't inherently intimate to him, and surely wouldn't look too out of place to the common gaze. But knowing it's Wriothesley with him-- and remembering, as he has so often since their last meeting, how Wriothesley had been close to him in his office as they danced, and sat, and spoke, and kissed-- changes everything.
Despite the layers of his robes and the dress shirt beneath, the light pressure of Wriothesley's hand nearly sears his skin with how right it feels to be near him again. ]
I've made reservations at a small restaurant-- comfort food, they said they specialised in. I'm aware most special occasions are often celebrated in more extravagant venues, but... [ Glancing at Wriothesley, Neuvillette's tone turns thoughtful. ] I wanted something more intimate for us tonight, if such an arrangement is agreeable to you.
I'm glad, seeing as I plan to continue. [Neuvillette already got special treatment from him to a degree before this, but now? Well, now there was very little he wouldn't rearrange for him.
Wriothesley manages to return the gentle squeeze to Neuvillette's hand, before the hold is shifted quite a bit. Unexpected though it was, he isn't even remotely bothered by it, settled close to the other because of it and settling in at his side as if it were the most normal thing. The curious glance or two they'd received as two men walking thus had been fully ignored as his full attention remained on his companion, as it had been since he saw Neuvillette during his approach.
Archons how he wanted to be closer than even this. But he could behave himself in public.]
Oh this is more than agreeable. [He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm.] I think I prefer the idea of going to more intimate places together.
[He really is just talking about venues, for all it could easily be taken otherwise.]
[ That same, bizarre sense of lightness seems to flutter in Neuvillette's chest at Wriothesley's words, but he does little to assuage it, focused as he is on the expression on the man's face as he speaks.
It's strange acknowledging just how much he likes his smile, and how much fondness seems to prevail in these moments he gets to have with Wriothesley by his side. Perhaps more shocking is that, when he really considers it, he's felt this way for a long time, even if he's only recently learned how to process it. ]
It's not quite the privacy of our respective offices... [ He hums. ] But I'm pleased you aren't bothered.
Tell me how you've been. [ I've been thinking of you hangs on his tongue, but never makes it out. ] Were you as charming as I predicted at Furina's event?
We'll have plenty of time for privacy later. If not after dinner, then next time you're free.
[Would he like to be alone with Neuvillette tonight? Absolutely. But he would never demand further time if he couldn't have that. The position of Chief Justice was one that Neuvillette took very seriously -- and Wriothesley similarly considered his position one that couldn't be neglected. Even with his free time being greater than the other man's by far.
The chuckle that leaves him at Neuvillette's question comes at the tail end of a sigh. There was clearly a story there.] If the amount of letters I received after is any indication, I might've been a bit too charming. I did manage to secure enough funding with no negotiations for further advantages on their part, though.
[He shakes his head a moment at the absurdity of the whole thing. Though after a breath he does gently squeeze Neuvillette's arm as he continues comfortably at his side.] It might've helped that Miss Furina herself requested the first dance. I don't think I've ever had that many people watching me before or since.
Ah... [ She would request the first dance, wouldn't she?
That night, Neuvillette had been present for only the first half hour before gently excusing himself as the programme proper started. He was certain if he stayed until the programme ended and dinner and socialising begun, Furina would have likely made him dance with her, too.
That Wriothesley had served as his surrogate is almost painfully unsurprising. But it's good to hear from the man itself that it hadn't all been for naught. ]
She's very... interested in you, I suppose is the term. [ Of course, this is primarily because of Wriothesley's connection to Neuvillette, but that feels superfluous to admit. ] It's fortunate the Fortress exists separate from the Court, given that. She's rather headstrong when she puts her mind to something...
But I'm pleased to hear you'd secured the connections you needed. [ And it's much easier to say that and smile than it is to talk about the Archon he serves. ]
I would say "let's hope you needn't do it again for a while", but you haven't yet told me if you'd had any fun.
[He'd watched quietly as Neuvillette left the fundraiser... and only had to assume Furina had seen his distraction, momentary though it was. He'd really wanted nothing more than to retreat with the Iudex, but he couldn't waste all of the effort they'd put into his preparations.
A part of him considered telling Neuvillette how much Furina had asked about him throughout their dance... but the way Neuvillette's smile seemed eased once beyond her in conversation, he supposed he could address that in a letter. He'd not promised the Archon exactly how he would try and convince Neuvillette to stay for an entire function, after all.
Convince was certainly a strong word for the passing mention he fully intended to leave it as.] All oddities considered, the night was more productive than we'd hoped for.
[But would he call it fun? He hummed quietly in consideration.] I'd say it was enjoyable to have experienced it, but I'll be happy if it's a long time before I need to attend another. [He chuckled quietly.] I'm really not a 'center of attention' kind of guy.
[And oh how he had been. He hadn't even been able to step off of the dance floor until the guests were already filtering out -- at which point he'd found the Melusine with the kamera and, knelt beside her, had taken the photo with her. He idly wondered if Neuvillette had received these photos yet...]
[ No, Neuvillette surmises, Wriothesley isn't very fond of attention at all. ]
I should be so honoured you'd allow me to focus all my attention on you for the night, then.
[ In a way, that makes this experience all the more significant. That for all that Wriothesley would rather not be perceived by so many, he'd been so eager to spend time with Neuvillette in this way. But the man's always accepted Neuvillette's curiosity-- had always been patient with him, even, when needed.
Most of the Fortress' inmates would rather have nothing to do with them after their sentencing. Neuvillette had always computed this as a natural response, given human thoughts towards punishment. But Wriothesley had never directed any resentment his way in turn.
In fact, having him walking by his side now through the city-- and being able to feel him, now that he isn't so separate from the water-- tells him that Wriothesley's quite pleased by all this. Happy, even. Comfortable... ]
...I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off you even if I tried.
[Wriothesley chuckles quietly, for all that it made him feel warm and fluttery inside, hearing Neuvillette wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off him. He'd given the timeline of it all a considerable amount of thought in the weeks since that afternoon of dance.
The least clear memories, those during his trial, had begun with an idle thought about the elegant man being... rather pretty. He hadn't really had any other words he could think to use at the time, and everything had been pushed to the back of his mind once he was given the chance to speak. He hadn't thought about the moment much during his incarceration -- he had far too much to focus on in order to keep his head above water... so to speak.]
It's hard to put into words just how much having your eyes on me makes me feel warm... happy. [He flicks his gaze briefly to Neuvillette, before turning forward once more. While they walked, he really needed to pay some attention.]
Would you believe me if I said that I've wanted your attention like this for... [How many years had it been now...?] At this intensity, for at least eight years? Or that even the very first day I saw you, I trusted you -- I wanted to know you?
[He did feel just a little self-conscious admitting this, but if he thought back, he distinctly remembered delivering his entire guilty plea while his gaze never left Neuvillette.]
[ It feels so foolish saying "you did?" aloud, so Neuvillette doesn't. Instead, his brows furrow-- not with distaste, at least, but with confusion. Glancing at the side of Wriothesley's face-- at the expression that he wears and the softness in his eyes, especially-- he doesn't see any signs of lying. But Wriothesley had never lied to him, not as far as Neuvillette can tell. ]
Rationally, I would believe anything you tell me. [ Wriothesley's earned that much of his trust, after all. In the years since they'd known each other-- since the man had finished his sentence and they got to speak as equals, instead of a visiting Iudex and an inmate he so happened to see on the way to deal with other matters-- he's never once let him down. Humans have a tendency to lie, to pretend; Wriothesley's always been genuine, whether at his lowest or in his quest to claw his way back up.
It's part of why Neuvillette had found time with him so simple. Wriothesley's never pretended to be anything more or less than what he is: a trait terribly rare, he's found, among humans and their peculiarities. ]
But I... struggle to understand how you'd come to such a conclusion on that day.
[ Oh, he remembers Wriothesley's face, and he remembers his confession, and he remembers Furina's lament on how his honesty had cut the show so short. But that day, Neuvillette had only done his duty, looking into a boy's dead eyes and wondering what would keep a human heart beating even after everything he'd done.
His head turns, watching the path in front of them, and he's uncertain why the back of his neck starts to prickle with heat. The restaurant's close now, only a few minutes of walking away, but as he tries to process Wriothesley's words, all that awareness melts away. As humans all around them run and play and walk and talk, Neuvillette wonders as to the mechanisms of Wriothesley's mind-- human, too, but so different from the rest.
[He hums briefly, brows furrowed for only a moment as he tries to think back.] I can't promise that anything I can say about my thoughts from back then will make sense. The way I felt at fourteen is easier to recall than the chaos in my mind back then.
[Wriothesley speaks easily, the topic one that no longer ignites the turmoil in his mind as it had in the many years to follow. A lot of his exact thoughts from the time had faded, other than the few vivid ones as he lay dying -- other than looking up at Neuvillette in the opera house.]
Everyone that day avoided eye contact with me, as if they were uncomfortable with someone so young not only being put on trial but confessing every little detail. [A soft smile tugs at his lips.] Everyone but you, that is. I wanted to feel like someone actually believed me, and each time someone looked away I could see they didn't. None of them really wanted to see justice done that day.
[The smile is still in place as he turns his head to face Neuvillette.] Out of everyone there, you were the only one I felt like I could trust. Which was a lot to me when I swore I'd never be able to trust anyone ever again, even as I entered the Opera Epiclese. So... if I could, once I was out, I wanted to meet you.
[His smile shifts as he laughs quietly -- certainly remarkably well adjusted for someone with his past.] And I'll be honest, even back then, I've always found you... stunning.
[ Something tightens in his chest, hearing Wriothesley talk about trust. About wanting to meet him, about thinking he'd been anything even remotely positive instead of... well, whatever inscrutable thing the Iudex was to the rest of the Court. The sentiments are so beyond Neuvillette's normal experience he isn't sure what to say; even more pressing, he finds, is how at peace he feels at this confession that Wriothesley had felt comfort in his existence.
I wanted to meet you, he said. How could a sentiment so pure be attributed to him?
Before he realises it, they're in front of the restaurant. The sign reads a simple Amandier, painted on by hand in a rounder rendition of Fontainian script. It's a brick house that's been converted to a restaurant with roofs of a lovely, deep green; the garden outside has been tended to, however small its space may be, and with its open windows given the lovely weather, the scent of good food makes its way outside.
For all intents and purposes, it's a beautiful place. But as promised, Neuvillette can't take his eyes off of Wriothesley's smile, and a profound ache rattles his chest-- so powerful he doesn't know what to do with it. ]
I... [ Speechlessness doesn't become him, but for the first time in centuries, he finds his knowledge of man's language to be lacking.
Wriothesley's affection is transfiguration.
And, shaken to his core, Neuvillette kisses him gently. ]
[For years now he'd known that Neuvillette had difficulties when it came to understanding or interpreting human emotions, so Wriothesley is more than happy to give him any time he needs to process all of it. Honestly, he'd said quite a lot, even by his standards of digesting information with relative ease. He's more than happy to simply be near him, even in the absense of sustained conversation... more than happy to be able to simply see him.
He spares only a brief glance toward the restaurant as they arrive, before his eyes are inevitably and quickly drawn back to Neuvillette. Really, just like the other... Wriothesley found it quite difficult to keep his eyes off him -- he was rather pleased that he didn't have to. He was sure the restaurant was a beautiful place... but nothing could ever be more stunning -- more beautiful than Neuvillette.
Wriothesley does find himself surprised that the Iudex had been rendered speechless, and it certainly does things to his heart. This light and fluttery feeling had become more common in Neuvillette's presence... he liked that. He was... starting to believe that he truly understood what love felt like.
The kiss catches him by surprise, though he's quick to lean so gently into it -- to lift his free hand to allow his fingertips to brush against Neuvillette's jaw. In that moment, there may as well be nobody else on the streets. This kiss, this proximity was all that mattered.]
[he's always thought life has a... funny way of moving itself along. a lifetime of being part of his Family, torn down in an instant and converted to life beneath cold waters; even were he more talkative, he'd likely never dare to speak on it. Michon would never speak poorly about anything that happened, in fact—the circumstances that arose were, as one might say, good and just. even early on, he'd known that there was always a risk, playing at the edges of the law, skirting onto the wrong side.
even so, he'd never raised a voice in protest, accepted his place on the side of protection, loyalty, and propriety. he'd grown—taller, mostly, and less in notoriety; in spite of his fearsome look, most of the whispers about him had always been of his uncanny politeness or his willingness to bow down to help anyone in need. what the Family did was not his business, but it still stung when it was gone. everything he'd had was wiped away in an instant by Fontaine and its Justice, each individual's sentence bearing the weight of his or her crimes. perhaps that, or his diligence inside the Fortress, or some combination thereof, saw him facing the sun before most of the others who remained. it was so easy to get along, to just move forward when your days were scheduled out in advance.
the surface... was not nearly so easy. he'd wandered, wraith-like, from wilds to villages and beyond, taking up small jobs with pitiful salaries to provide the funds he needed to keep going. he doesn't even remember who referred him to the path of a bodyguard again, but if he did, he would have to thank them. it's less worrisome now, since he no longer has to worry about the fighting of Families and business partners, but it's also earned him a strange sort of reputation.
amicable, but distant. that's the most common agreement on the subject of his personality, and he isn't bothered by it. in truth, not much really bothers him—not counting the sense of being an outsider here. that, too, is something of a facsimile of circumstance—but his ability to connect with people feels limited by his lack of experience, the distance he keeps on instinct now. there is no Family to disappoint, and still he can feel the weight of their rules.
but all that seems distant in the moment. guard the Iudex against any and all threats during these turbulent times is a vague sort of order, but it's one he takes to easily enough. the Gardes don't even have much to offer him for expectations, but he finds that fine, especially with the promise that the man will explain in greater detail later. the less he needs to know, the better to do his job. if anything is a potential threat, he will evaluate it seriously, without question. now... he just has to reintroduce himself to the man who, years prior, had been the crux of his life's turning point. the blond is largely the same as he always was—a truly boring spectacle in court, proud but agreeable.
deft fingers fix his vest, brushing over the Vision still buried within its inside pocket, then move upward to adjust thin-framed glasses. though he doesn't know what his future holds, he doubts there will be any difficulty; if one were to ask him, a man who's survived five hundred years without much obvious incident hardly needs his assistance. the day is a grey one, soaked in a sort of tension, but that changes nothing. Michon has a job to do, and it begins here at this very door. he's already checked in at the desk, taken the time to proceed, with the echo of his shoes the only accompaniment to his thoughts. is it... daunting? no, he doesn't think that's the right feeling. even so, the door seems... secretive, perhaps. as though it and the sky know something he yet should, but the time for any consideration has long passed.
so, there's nothing to do but knock, firm and controlled, eyes closing briefly just to listen. no threats will appear, and that's to be expected, but old habits surely die hard.]
[ But even as Michon enters, he'll find the Iudex stood by one of his bookshelves, brows furrowed as he pores through a file. He lifts his head enough to glance at him at the sound of his footsteps-- as is the polite thing to do, anyway-- but then he's quick to gesture to the settee off to the side. ]
I'll only be a moment. Feel free to make yourself comfortable, Monsieur.
[ The next few minutes consist of him taking the file in his hand (and several others) to his desk, where notes are written into paper and he inevitably calls in one of his Marechaussee stoodby outdoors. After being given gentle instructions to disseminate the information he'd collected, the little Melusine salutes with an upward smile, and only once she's left-- and once Neuvillette has come forward to lock his doors to keep from interruption-- does he finally turn on his heel to afford Michon his full attention.
Truthfully, he finds the whole exercise incredibly unnecessary. But in the same way Furina, as the Hydro Archon, required gardes to protect her at all times, so too does the Court's Iudex as its new leader require some form of security. A whole band of humans behind him would have been unbecoming at best, and so the decision to have a single bodyguard had been Neuvillette's own. According to Sedene, Michon had seemed the best man for the job.
He doesn't bother with niceties. If Michon is to be by his side, he'll learn swiftly that Neuvillette isn't one to waste time.
The first thing he asks is: ] Are you aware of the unrest in the Court brought about by all these recent changes?
[ The slander towards Furina, the hatred that Neuvillette had let her go so easy, the way a small group of people declaring he take the execution meant for the Hydro Archon for his leniency-- these are all common sentiment so long as one knew where to look. ]
I understand you were discharged from the Fortress only a few weeks prior, at most. Has it been long enough for you to form an opinion on this topic, yourself?
[he doesn't bother to say anything about being called monsieur, a title he had neither ever fit nor ever cared for. it's only natural, given the man's position and his habits. similarly, there's little hesitation in following the gesture to the settee and stepping over to it with little more than a murmur of thanks.
all things considered, he doesn't seem particularly bothered by the wait, expression plain, a little blank even. after all, he isn't sure just yet what to expect of Neuvillette outside of the last time he'd seen him—an utterly different circumstance from this one, to be sure.
hands resting in his lap, Michon listens silently to the conversation, taking in what seems important—that is to say, practically none of it. the work of the Marechaussee is hardly his business. it's the sound of elegant footsteps, the click of a door lock that barely registers, that pull his attention properly back to Neuvillette before he speaks.]
I am aware. [a simple response, to begin, the scrunch of his nose showing distaste. he is no Duke, and he holds little and less knowledge of the goings-on of most people... but on the subject of small insurgent groups? those have most certainly come across his radar in the past few weeks.
it's probably no surprise, then, that he does respond in kind, back straightening and legs shifting to a more comfortable, upright position. furniture is... not made for people his size, really.]
My opinion is that they are the desperate—but dangerous—opinions of people scrabbling for the slightest chance of power. I have understood that this is how some humans think for far longer than my sentence; that leniency is weak, and justice can only be fulfilled in steel and iron.
[he speaks softly, but not meekly; though his opinion is given without significant emphasis, it's still clearly his own. his morality may be skewed based on those he cares about enough to follow, but it is nonetheless deeply rooted.]
I don't believe the numbers are too significant, though, nor that popular opinion will swing significantly down their path.
[it's just... the fanatics that are the potential problem, he thinks. many more are likely to think like him—aware that the changes will leave some of Fontaine's structure in rocky territory, but ultimately... it's not that big a deal. Neuvillette has been the backbone of Fontaine for as long as she had, in as many ways as she had. once the issue of Indemnitium is solved, is there anything the man hadn't overseen at least in part?]
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action | for scintiller.
And yet something-- he's not sure what to call it, maybe propriety, maybe compassion, maybe that undefinable nail that's been pounded into his head since Navia came to visit him in the Palais Mermonia-- keeps him rooted to the spot. Neuvillette doesn't want to part from her just yet, not when the relief of her forgiveness thrums in his blood like a drug.
Out of the corner of his eye, he notices she's turned to leave. Neuvillette turns his body to face her better then, and only through his own mental fortitude does he manage to open his mouth to speak once she approaches him. ]
Will you be returning home on your own this evening, Ms. Navia?
[ Strange. He can hardly remember the last time he felt so... nervous. But perhaps it doesn't matter. ]
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funny, then, how soon she falls silent while standing before his grave.
but even with that seemingly never-ending list lodged in the forefront of her mind, navia knows that healing takes time—which, thanks to her father's selflessness, she has an abundance of. there is no shame in leaving today to return tomorrow, or the next day, or the next; her papa was, above all else, a gentleman, which is why navia turns toward poisson with a curiously light heart. melus will be waiting for her back at their base, she is sure. melus, a cup of fresh tea in hand, and—
—ah.
to navia's credit, she handles the shock that is the sight of the chief justice with grace—because even with his respectful distance, failing to notice his continued presence is, she feels, on her. has he been waiting here the entire time? if so: for what? perhaps he found her apology ambiguous, if not downright disingenuous; perhaps he's thus looking to apologize yet again, despite her insistence that he stop.
or, as she approaches him: perhaps he's simply wondering what he's meant to do in this awkward situation, for while he's somewhat difficult to read—that placid exterior disguises such deceptive depths!—navia still senses... nervousness, she thinks. discomfort. in this moment, neuvillette seems less an untouchable figure and more a man simply wondering how, precisely, one approaches a lady with whom one shares an, ah, uncomfortable history.
...hmm. lightly, almost gently:]
Shouldn't I be asking the same of you, Monsieur Neuvillette? Poisson is much closer than the Palais Mermonia.
[which sounds vaguely threatening, if one squints, hence the quick addition that is:]
I can arrange transport, if you're in need.
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[ Neuvillette's arms are crossed over his chest, his lips pressed in a thin line as he considers the machine before them. He looks at the same scales visible to the public whenever a trial happens, appearing for all the world like nothing's wrong, and then reaches out to press a gloved hand over its centre. ]
I... know how, theoretically. [ His head dips. In a full courtroom, he would never allow such a gesture, but for the moment they're the only two present in this empty, grand hall. ] But I worry my own understanding of what's right may not quite align with what actually is.
Hence my need for your assistance. I believe [ and here Neuvillette faces Navia properly ] your sense of justice in context of our citizens is more comprehensive than whatever's written in our laws.
Between my knowledge of texts and your practical experience, I imagine that together we create a wider perspective. Do you agree?
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though navia is here to help, she's also admittedly slaking her own curiosity, here. ]
Well, that's certainly high praise from the Chief Justice himself, but.. yes, I agree.
[ he might represent the mind of fontaine, but if anything, it is navia who is the beating heart. she would never presume to speak for all fontainians, of course, but she certainly has experience with the people. she adjusts the paper bag on her arm with a smile. ]
Whatever help I can provide, I'm happy to offer.
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The world spins on, however, and so he must continue as well. ]
Would you like to place your bag somewhere before we begin? I'm happy to retrieve a stool from backstage if it pleases you.
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[ the pie! she's eager to give it to him, but.. later. that can be their treat, once they've finished the investigation properly. navia glances to her right and left, before spotting a small podium. ]
This should do just fine.
[ carefully, she sets the bag down so it won't tip over, then strides up toward him. ]
I'm ready when you are.
action | for administrateur. i went with first date btw SOBS
And it's funny, really, that he'd felt so lightened by the confirmation. Neuvillette only understands elation like understanding events through a window-- witnessed, always, but never truly there-- but the lax feeling in his chest matches what he imagines to be the human experience of it. He's happy, he'd thought. He's looking forward to this blooming... thing with Wriothesley, whatever form it decides to take.
The letter he'd written in turn had given Wriothesley details of their meeting: in Fontaine's downtown, by a fountain not nearly as grandiose as the Fountain of Lucine, but which the area's locals treat with far more reverence. What few times his duties had required him to visit Fontaine's downtown area had shown him the people there didn't care nearly as much about the Iudex's presence as anyone in uptown; for a date, he's sure, this is a good thing.
True enough, when he's walking the streets right before sunset on the promised day, there's hardly any gossip that follows him. In fact, nobody even affords him a second glance, even as he walks the streets in the ceremonial robes of his position. Considering the people here aren't nearly as notorious or as bizarrely concerned with the high-faluting drama of the uptown dwellers, however, he imagines whatever occurs in the Opera Epiclese is beyond them.
All the better, though.
When he arrives at the meeting place, Neuvillette seats himself on a bench by the fountain. He's early, of course, and as he sits he shuts his eyes and empties his mind. In those few seconds, the children playing by the fountain disappear; the people making their wishes by water fade away; the thoughts of humans glancing at their reflections in puddles from the rain that happened earlier this morning turn into nothing...
And, even if just for a moment, he catches that flame of determination he's already begun to associate with Wriothesley as the man walks the city-- back above water, back where he can be seen.
Once again, the knowledge they're going to spend time together makes Neuvillette feel lighter. But this time, as his eyes open and a smile curves his lips, he decides not to question it.
That everyone else has gone muted in the wake of Wriothesley's presence is a blessing on its own. ]
Nerds on a first date, perfect ♡
[There hadn't been a lot for Wriothesley to do back in the Fortress before he could leave -- most of his work had been done in the previous days -- so with the response letter he'd received tucked into a pocket, he'd begun the rather long path to the surface from the Fortress. Sigewinne had gone to see him off, rather pleased to see him heading to the overworld -- as far as she was concerned he could really use the fresh air more often. It wasn't the fresh air or the sunlight that he was most looking forward to this time.
'The next time you visit, have dinner with me' had been Neuvillette's words, and throughout his duties until the Iudex's next free day those words had been on his mind quite frequently. Really, it had been more difficult than usual to focus at times, with his thoughts so frequently cast back to that afternoon of music, dance... and discoveries.
As he'd made his way along the path from the Opera Epiclese to Marcotte Station, he was rather pleased that almost nobody paid him any mind. Indeed, only the Melusines on patrol greeted him cheerfully, while humans were generally content to ignore anyone outside of their own purposes.
Such a quiet trip suited him just fine, especially with how distracted he was.
He'd read the details of their evening once more, Fontaine's scenery passing him by with the gentle progress of the Navia line toward the city proper. He did try to give Elphane the attention she deserved for her efforts at her job... but it really was difficult for him to think of anything other than the approaching dinner.
Wriothesley had no trouble navigating to the fountain they were to meet at, something learned from his youth and never forgotten, and he doesn't even bother to resist as his steps pick up the pace on his way down. Though the lift feels even slower than his ascent from the Fortress as he waited to reach the main station downtown. Maybe he was feeling more impatient to arrive than he'd initially realized.
His pace is quick as he steps back out into the fresh air, eyes cast around for a familiar figure -- one he immediately feels lighter upon catching sight of. There's a quiet ease to his expression as he approaches.]
I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long.
[Honestly, he'd arrived a bit early himself... but with Neuvillette already sitting on a nearby bench, he couldn't really be sure just how long he'd been waiting.]
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There's a real smile on his face when he says, ] No, you've come right on time. [ And though it's muted as most of his expressions go, there's a brightness to his eyes that can't be denied. He's uncertain how to react to this anticipation, to the way that it feels as if bubbles have begun floating through this human-shaped vessel of his, but as he sets a hand on his chest and bows, he's more concerned with Wriothesley's reactions more than his own, anyway. ]
I'm pleased you were able to make time for me, Wriothesley. [ His hand falls, resting idly by his side. The itch to take Wriothesley's hand in his own, to feel his warmth again for the first time since that afternoon they spent together, makes his fingers twitch. But for now, he resists, and it's strange to truly put effort into restraint for the first time since his hatching. ]
I've... truly been looking forward to seeing you again.
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At least while in public.
He follows Neuvillette's bow with one of his own, eyes never once straying from the other man's even so.]
I've been looking forward to seeing you ever since I left your office that day. [His voice is quiet, conversation just between them. He only pauses a brief moment, next words considered as he settles to stand only slightly closer than politeness dictated.]
Whenever you have time to see me, I'll always make time to see you, too. [They both knew that if anything serious arose, it would be the exception to this promise... but any time he could see Neuvillette, he was more than prepared to arrange his schedule accordingly.]
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[ As he's wanted to since they last parted, Neuvillette reaches down to take Wriothesley's hand. Even through the fabric of their gloves Wriothesley's as warm as he had been-- solid, too, when Neuvillette gives a small squeeze.
But, as opposed to walking with their hands connected, he turns and pulls Wriothesley's hand up enough to rest on his inner bicep as they walk side by side.
He's walked like this many times before with particularly important dignitaries, especially if they were special guests of the Hydro Archon herself. In that sense the gesture isn't inherently intimate to him, and surely wouldn't look too out of place to the common gaze. But knowing it's Wriothesley with him-- and remembering, as he has so often since their last meeting, how Wriothesley had been close to him in his office as they danced, and sat, and spoke, and kissed-- changes everything.
Despite the layers of his robes and the dress shirt beneath, the light pressure of Wriothesley's hand nearly sears his skin with how right it feels to be near him again. ]
I've made reservations at a small restaurant-- comfort food, they said they specialised in. I'm aware most special occasions are often celebrated in more extravagant venues, but... [ Glancing at Wriothesley, Neuvillette's tone turns thoughtful. ] I wanted something more intimate for us tonight, if such an arrangement is agreeable to you.
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Wriothesley manages to return the gentle squeeze to Neuvillette's hand, before the hold is shifted quite a bit. Unexpected though it was, he isn't even remotely bothered by it, settled close to the other because of it and settling in at his side as if it were the most normal thing. The curious glance or two they'd received as two men walking thus had been fully ignored as his full attention remained on his companion, as it had been since he saw Neuvillette during his approach.
Archons how he wanted to be closer than even this. But he could behave himself in public.]
Oh this is more than agreeable. [He chuckles softly, the sound low and warm.] I think I prefer the idea of going to more intimate places together.
[He really is just talking about venues, for all it could easily be taken otherwise.]
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It's strange acknowledging just how much he likes his smile, and how much fondness seems to prevail in these moments he gets to have with Wriothesley by his side. Perhaps more shocking is that, when he really considers it, he's felt this way for a long time, even if he's only recently learned how to process it. ]
It's not quite the privacy of our respective offices... [ He hums. ] But I'm pleased you aren't bothered.
Tell me how you've been. [ I've been thinking of you hangs on his tongue, but never makes it out. ] Were you as charming as I predicted at Furina's event?
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[Would he like to be alone with Neuvillette tonight? Absolutely. But he would never demand further time if he couldn't have that. The position of Chief Justice was one that Neuvillette took very seriously -- and Wriothesley similarly considered his position one that couldn't be neglected. Even with his free time being greater than the other man's by far.
The chuckle that leaves him at Neuvillette's question comes at the tail end of a sigh. There was clearly a story there.] If the amount of letters I received after is any indication, I might've been a bit too charming. I did manage to secure enough funding with no negotiations for further advantages on their part, though.
[He shakes his head a moment at the absurdity of the whole thing. Though after a breath he does gently squeeze Neuvillette's arm as he continues comfortably at his side.] It might've helped that Miss Furina herself requested the first dance. I don't think I've ever had that many people watching me before or since.
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That night, Neuvillette had been present for only the first half hour before gently excusing himself as the programme proper started. He was certain if he stayed until the programme ended and dinner and socialising begun, Furina would have likely made him dance with her, too.
That Wriothesley had served as his surrogate is almost painfully unsurprising. But it's good to hear from the man itself that it hadn't all been for naught. ]
She's very... interested in you, I suppose is the term. [ Of course, this is primarily because of Wriothesley's connection to Neuvillette, but that feels superfluous to admit. ] It's fortunate the Fortress exists separate from the Court, given that. She's rather headstrong when she puts her mind to something...
But I'm pleased to hear you'd secured the connections you needed. [ And it's much easier to say that and smile than it is to talk about the Archon he serves. ]
I would say "let's hope you needn't do it again for a while", but you haven't yet told me if you'd had any fun.
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[He'd watched quietly as Neuvillette left the fundraiser... and only had to assume Furina had seen his distraction, momentary though it was. He'd really wanted nothing more than to retreat with the Iudex, but he couldn't waste all of the effort they'd put into his preparations.
A part of him considered telling Neuvillette how much Furina had asked about him throughout their dance... but the way Neuvillette's smile seemed eased once beyond her in conversation, he supposed he could address that in a letter. He'd not promised the Archon exactly how he would try and convince Neuvillette to stay for an entire function, after all.
Convince was certainly a strong word for the passing mention he fully intended to leave it as.] All oddities considered, the night was more productive than we'd hoped for.
[But would he call it fun? He hummed quietly in consideration.] I'd say it was enjoyable to have experienced it, but I'll be happy if it's a long time before I need to attend another. [He chuckled quietly.] I'm really not a 'center of attention' kind of guy.
[And oh how he had been. He hadn't even been able to step off of the dance floor until the guests were already filtering out -- at which point he'd found the Melusine with the kamera and, knelt beside her, had taken the photo with her. He idly wondered if Neuvillette had received these photos yet...]
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I should be so honoured you'd allow me to focus all my attention on you for the night, then.
[ In a way, that makes this experience all the more significant. That for all that Wriothesley would rather not be perceived by so many, he'd been so eager to spend time with Neuvillette in this way. But the man's always accepted Neuvillette's curiosity-- had always been patient with him, even, when needed.
Most of the Fortress' inmates would rather have nothing to do with them after their sentencing. Neuvillette had always computed this as a natural response, given human thoughts towards punishment. But Wriothesley had never directed any resentment his way in turn.
In fact, having him walking by his side now through the city-- and being able to feel him, now that he isn't so separate from the water-- tells him that Wriothesley's quite pleased by all this. Happy, even. Comfortable... ]
...I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to keep my eyes off you even if I tried.
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The least clear memories, those during his trial, had begun with an idle thought about the elegant man being... rather pretty. He hadn't really had any other words he could think to use at the time, and everything had been pushed to the back of his mind once he was given the chance to speak. He hadn't thought about the moment much during his incarceration -- he had far too much to focus on in order to keep his head above water... so to speak.]
It's hard to put into words just how much having your eyes on me makes me feel warm... happy. [He flicks his gaze briefly to Neuvillette, before turning forward once more. While they walked, he really needed to pay some attention.]
Would you believe me if I said that I've wanted your attention like this for... [How many years had it been now...?] At this intensity, for at least eight years? Or that even the very first day I saw you, I trusted you -- I wanted to know you?
[He did feel just a little self-conscious admitting this, but if he thought back, he distinctly remembered delivering his entire guilty plea while his gaze never left Neuvillette.]
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Rationally, I would believe anything you tell me. [ Wriothesley's earned that much of his trust, after all. In the years since they'd known each other-- since the man had finished his sentence and they got to speak as equals, instead of a visiting Iudex and an inmate he so happened to see on the way to deal with other matters-- he's never once let him down. Humans have a tendency to lie, to pretend; Wriothesley's always been genuine, whether at his lowest or in his quest to claw his way back up.
It's part of why Neuvillette had found time with him so simple. Wriothesley's never pretended to be anything more or less than what he is: a trait terribly rare, he's found, among humans and their peculiarities. ]
But I... struggle to understand how you'd come to such a conclusion on that day.
[ Oh, he remembers Wriothesley's face, and he remembers his confession, and he remembers Furina's lament on how his honesty had cut the show so short. But that day, Neuvillette had only done his duty, looking into a boy's dead eyes and wondering what would keep a human heart beating even after everything he'd done.
His head turns, watching the path in front of them, and he's uncertain why the back of his neck starts to prickle with heat. The restaurant's close now, only a few minutes of walking away, but as he tries to process Wriothesley's words, all that awareness melts away. As humans all around them run and play and walk and talk, Neuvillette wonders as to the mechanisms of Wriothesley's mind-- human, too, but so different from the rest.
So special. ]
...would it be crass to ask why?
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[He hums briefly, brows furrowed for only a moment as he tries to think back.] I can't promise that anything I can say about my thoughts from back then will make sense. The way I felt at fourteen is easier to recall than the chaos in my mind back then.
[Wriothesley speaks easily, the topic one that no longer ignites the turmoil in his mind as it had in the many years to follow. A lot of his exact thoughts from the time had faded, other than the few vivid ones as he lay dying -- other than looking up at Neuvillette in the opera house.]
Everyone that day avoided eye contact with me, as if they were uncomfortable with someone so young not only being put on trial but confessing every little detail. [A soft smile tugs at his lips.] Everyone but you, that is. I wanted to feel like someone actually believed me, and each time someone looked away I could see they didn't. None of them really wanted to see justice done that day.
[The smile is still in place as he turns his head to face Neuvillette.] Out of everyone there, you were the only one I felt like I could trust. Which was a lot to me when I swore I'd never be able to trust anyone ever again, even as I entered the Opera Epiclese. So... if I could, once I was out, I wanted to meet you.
[His smile shifts as he laughs quietly -- certainly remarkably well adjusted for someone with his past.] And I'll be honest, even back then, I've always found you... stunning.
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I wanted to meet you, he said. How could a sentiment so pure be attributed to him?
Before he realises it, they're in front of the restaurant. The sign reads a simple Amandier, painted on by hand in a rounder rendition of Fontainian script. It's a brick house that's been converted to a restaurant with roofs of a lovely, deep green; the garden outside has been tended to, however small its space may be, and with its open windows given the lovely weather, the scent of good food makes its way outside.
For all intents and purposes, it's a beautiful place. But as promised, Neuvillette can't take his eyes off of Wriothesley's smile, and a profound ache rattles his chest-- so powerful he doesn't know what to do with it. ]
I... [ Speechlessness doesn't become him, but for the first time in centuries, he finds his knowledge of man's language to be lacking.
Wriothesley's affection is transfiguration.
And, shaken to his core, Neuvillette kisses him gently. ]
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[For years now he'd known that Neuvillette had difficulties when it came to understanding or interpreting human emotions, so Wriothesley is more than happy to give him any time he needs to process all of it. Honestly, he'd said quite a lot, even by his standards of digesting information with relative ease. He's more than happy to simply be near him, even in the absense of sustained conversation... more than happy to be able to simply see him.
He spares only a brief glance toward the restaurant as they arrive, before his eyes are inevitably and quickly drawn back to Neuvillette. Really, just like the other... Wriothesley found it quite difficult to keep his eyes off him -- he was rather pleased that he didn't have to. He was sure the restaurant was a beautiful place... but nothing could ever be more stunning -- more beautiful than Neuvillette.
Wriothesley does find himself surprised that the Iudex had been rendered speechless, and it certainly does things to his heart. This light and fluttery feeling had become more common in Neuvillette's presence... he liked that. He was... starting to believe that he truly understood what love felt like.
The kiss catches him by surprise, though he's quick to lean so gently into it -- to lift his free hand to allow his fingertips to brush against Neuvillette's jaw. In that moment, there may as well be nobody else on the streets. This kiss, this proximity was all that mattered.]
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it's called liberally using genshin explo mechanics
As you should, especially as Neuvillette
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action | we pretend I know what I'm doing, as always
even so, he'd never raised a voice in protest, accepted his place on the side of protection, loyalty, and propriety. he'd grown—taller, mostly, and less in notoriety; in spite of his fearsome look, most of the whispers about him had always been of his uncanny politeness or his willingness to bow down to help anyone in need. what the Family did was not his business, but it still stung when it was gone. everything he'd had was wiped away in an instant by Fontaine and its Justice, each individual's sentence bearing the weight of his or her crimes. perhaps that, or his diligence inside the Fortress, or some combination thereof, saw him facing the sun before most of the others who remained. it was so easy to get along, to just move forward when your days were scheduled out in advance.
the surface... was not nearly so easy. he'd wandered, wraith-like, from wilds to villages and beyond, taking up small jobs with pitiful salaries to provide the funds he needed to keep going. he doesn't even remember who referred him to the path of a bodyguard again, but if he did, he would have to thank them. it's less worrisome now, since he no longer has to worry about the fighting of Families and business partners, but it's also earned him a strange sort of reputation.
amicable, but distant. that's the most common agreement on the subject of his personality, and he isn't bothered by it. in truth, not much really bothers him—not counting the sense of being an outsider here. that, too, is something of a facsimile of circumstance—but his ability to connect with people feels limited by his lack of experience, the distance he keeps on instinct now. there is no Family to disappoint, and still he can feel the weight of their rules.
but all that seems distant in the moment. guard the Iudex against any and all threats during these turbulent times is a vague sort of order, but it's one he takes to easily enough. the Gardes don't even have much to offer him for expectations, but he finds that fine, especially with the promise that the man will explain in greater detail later. the less he needs to know, the better to do his job. if anything is a potential threat, he will evaluate it seriously, without question. now... he just has to reintroduce himself to the man who, years prior, had been the crux of his life's turning point. the blond is largely the same as he always was—a truly boring spectacle in court, proud but agreeable.
deft fingers fix his vest, brushing over the Vision still buried within its inside pocket, then move upward to adjust thin-framed glasses. though he doesn't know what his future holds, he doubts there will be any difficulty; if one were to ask him, a man who's survived five hundred years without much obvious incident hardly needs his assistance. the day is a grey one, soaked in a sort of tension, but that changes nothing. Michon has a job to do, and it begins here at this very door. he's already checked in at the desk, taken the time to proceed, with the echo of his shoes the only accompaniment to his thoughts. is it... daunting? no, he doesn't think that's the right feeling. even so, the door seems... secretive, perhaps. as though it and the sky know something he yet should, but the time for any consideration has long passed.
so, there's nothing to do but knock, firm and controlled, eyes closing briefly just to listen. no threats will appear, and that's to be expected, but old habits surely die hard.]
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[ But even as Michon enters, he'll find the Iudex stood by one of his bookshelves, brows furrowed as he pores through a file. He lifts his head enough to glance at him at the sound of his footsteps-- as is the polite thing to do, anyway-- but then he's quick to gesture to the settee off to the side. ]
I'll only be a moment. Feel free to make yourself comfortable, Monsieur.
[ The next few minutes consist of him taking the file in his hand (and several others) to his desk, where notes are written into paper and he inevitably calls in one of his Marechaussee stoodby outdoors. After being given gentle instructions to disseminate the information he'd collected, the little Melusine salutes with an upward smile, and only once she's left-- and once Neuvillette has come forward to lock his doors to keep from interruption-- does he finally turn on his heel to afford Michon his full attention.
Truthfully, he finds the whole exercise incredibly unnecessary. But in the same way Furina, as the Hydro Archon, required gardes to protect her at all times, so too does the Court's Iudex as its new leader require some form of security. A whole band of humans behind him would have been unbecoming at best, and so the decision to have a single bodyguard had been Neuvillette's own. According to Sedene, Michon had seemed the best man for the job.
He doesn't bother with niceties. If Michon is to be by his side, he'll learn swiftly that Neuvillette isn't one to waste time.
The first thing he asks is: ] Are you aware of the unrest in the Court brought about by all these recent changes?
[ The slander towards Furina, the hatred that Neuvillette had let her go so easy, the way a small group of people declaring he take the execution meant for the Hydro Archon for his leniency-- these are all common sentiment so long as one knew where to look. ]
I understand you were discharged from the Fortress only a few weeks prior, at most. Has it been long enough for you to form an opinion on this topic, yourself?
no subject
all things considered, he doesn't seem particularly bothered by the wait, expression plain, a little blank even. after all, he isn't sure just yet what to expect of Neuvillette outside of the last time he'd seen him—an utterly different circumstance from this one, to be sure.
hands resting in his lap, Michon listens silently to the conversation, taking in what seems important—that is to say, practically none of it. the work of the Marechaussee is hardly his business. it's the sound of elegant footsteps, the click of a door lock that barely registers, that pull his attention properly back to Neuvillette before he speaks.]
I am aware. [a simple response, to begin, the scrunch of his nose showing distaste. he is no Duke, and he holds little and less knowledge of the goings-on of most people... but on the subject of small insurgent groups? those have most certainly come across his radar in the past few weeks.
it's probably no surprise, then, that he does respond in kind, back straightening and legs shifting to a more comfortable, upright position. furniture is... not made for people his size, really.]
My opinion is that they are the desperate—but dangerous—opinions of people scrabbling for the slightest chance of power. I have understood that this is how some humans think for far longer than my sentence; that leniency is weak, and justice can only be fulfilled in steel and iron.
[he speaks softly, but not meekly; though his opinion is given without significant emphasis, it's still clearly his own. his morality may be skewed based on those he cares about enough to follow, but it is nonetheless deeply rooted.]
I don't believe the numbers are too significant, though, nor that popular opinion will swing significantly down their path.
[it's just... the fanatics that are the potential problem, he thinks. many more are likely to think like him—aware that the changes will leave some of Fontaine's structure in rocky territory, but ultimately... it's not that big a deal. Neuvillette has been the backbone of Fontaine for as long as she had, in as many ways as she had. once the issue of Indemnitium is solved, is there anything the man hadn't overseen at least in part?]