Sovereign.

Neuvillette looks upon her without seeing her. Frustrated. Disappointed.

She can't bear to witness it, to gaze into the vast distance between them now. It feels too expansive, like the deepest parts of the sea. Unfathomable in its depths from the surface. Dark. Cold. As if she had touched it with her very own hand, she mentally flinches away, gaze skittering momentarily to a random vase within the hallway.

Barely an acknowledgement to her words, and Furina must swallow down her disappointment, her ears ringing from the stoic politeness that she had become accustomed to hearing him solely aim at others... but never her. Her heart is beating rapidly within her chest; anxious, rebuffed, unanchored at sea.

What if she can't do this? What if she fails? What if everyone...?

❝ —That's it?! ❞ Her eyes feel hot suddenly, her mind swaying with the realization that they had been for some time, only she had yet again failed to notice the tears budding up. Furina's hands come down to curl into small fits at her sides as she watches him turn away.

❝ You're just ... walking away? ❞ Her shuddering breaths rise and lower her shoulders until a huff of forced laughter is quick to swoop in, saving her from the sharp pain spreading and spreading within her chest. ❝ Well—! How foolish you will feel once all is said and done and I have remained true to my word in taking care of things. I am the hydro archon of Fontaine after all! Hm! Very foolish indeed! ❞ She takes a step back, and another. Another. ❝ I hope this is all worth it to you! ❞ His retreating form hurts too much to watch, feeling his loss all the more, and so she pivots on her heel quickly, her legs swiftly aiding in her retreat.

He feels his gloved hand twitch now that he stands before her once more or... well, the part of her that remains now. She's still here, some part of her is still here. The scene has played over and over in his head after the narwhal has been dealt with appropriately and after the waters had resided as well. How Focalors bid him farewell and how he couldn't stop the descending hydro blade from dealing a devastating blow even if he, himself, would have preferred such a thing not to have happened. It takes some convincing of himself that the Furina that stands before him is not a ghost or an apparition, but it is her. She is real and she is very much alive. Things are beyond perfect, but they are settling down and in the ebbing do things he did not have the time to consider begin to rise. The sovereign now fully fleshed with his dragonhood begins to speak, he tells her everything that was told to him within the scape of the oratrice. Furina is entitled to this truth more than anybody, in the fullness of it regardless of how heavy it may be. His head rings with a noise he has never once heard before, it rouses frustration with himself.

Well—! How foolish you will feel once all is said and done and I have remained true to my word in taking care of things.

Words she spoke before in some sorry excuse for a conversation with him where her emotions became as violent as the crashing waves ashore amidst a hurricane echoes in his memory. Oh, how foolish indeed...

It's not as if every moment together has been lived in ignorant bliss. They've had their arguments, conflicts in ideals, moments when Neuvillette's patience with her had understandably waned. Things would ebb and flow, subside as they always found their way to each other again. He would be her solace, and she believed, that she too would offer a safe shore to his questions and wonderings of the human world. Within his arms, in the quiet of the night within their chambers, she needn't act like the archon; she could rest, relieve herself of the emotionally taxing work that was her duty, if only for a moment. Perhaps someday, that burden would be lifted fully from her shoulders, but today... she must push on, ever aware of the impostor she is.

Her anxieties whispered into her ears, reminding her that she was otherwise helpless, a human girl with nothing to truly help those poor lives that had been lost, just some actress wearing someone else's crown. More than anyone... she is aware of her faults and her inability to help. That the lives of Poisson weighed heavily upon her, that she mourned them more than anyone, that her heart heart broke from the list he had shared. Nothing could ever make up for that, and that is guilt she will have to carry for now on as lives she couldn't save.

As the realities of this grow stronger as of late, so do her insecurities. So does the awareness that she does not know how to navigate this coldness from him. It feels... wrong, how did they find themselves suddenly at odds like this? Dear Iudex, were you not meant to be forever by my side? ❝ I— ❞ Furina's mismatched eyes hesitantly lift, brow furrowing, a lump rising within her throat. Calm, be calm... Being emotional will not grant her any favors. Being so bold as to ask when she has otherwise failed him and her people would be foolish, for the evidence had been glaringly obvious before her, all from Poisson. In that instance, she had failed them... failed him. Failed Mirror-Me...

The words, everything, everything, rises up again, gets caught in her throat. The desire to reach out, to bridge this abyss suddenly between them....

𝒫𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐹𝑜𝓃𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓃𝑒'𝓈 𝒱𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝒪𝓌𝓃: ⚜ 𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒾𝑒𝓊𝓇 𝒩𝑒𝓊𝓋𝒾𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒 & 𝐿𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝐹𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶 !! ⚜

Candlebearer - Candle bearers lead the procession from the back of the church to the front. Candle bearers should walk on either side of the cross, not behind. The candles always accompany the cross. Ordainer - A cleric who admits someone to holy orders. type of: churchman, cleric, divine, ecclesiastic. a clergyman or other person in religious orders.

They've managed to avoid crossing paths, partially intentionally from Furina's own actions and steps towards pushing through all that is closing in upon her. The prophecy hangs overhead, drawing nearer and nearer as the hands of the clock march on; tension arises from her people, there are whispers of discontent, nay, some are bold enough to voice their dissatisfaction loudly at her, pointing accusations of inaction, lack of care, demanding answers... Her Neuvillette, too, has demanded such things of her, frustrated when she can offer none.

That, at least, she has been honest about. The information he presented to her that fateful day was new to her, she hadn't known anything about it, she had not lied! Mirror-Me had never said a word about the previous archon, and nor did Furina hold any memories...

But his faith in her is slipping, a tenuous thing that leaves her... scared. Scared and unsure of how she will remain calm before the inevitable storm if he of all those around her does not... believe her. Trust her. She can't divulge everything to him, as much as she wishes she can, as much as the urge to knock at his door in the middle of the night and tearfully confess to everything screams from within her very center of being... She can not. For her people, for this plan to work, she can not. Her intentions are pure and for the good of her people... why does this seed of suspicion sprout and wrap around his heart?

She feels alone, in ways she hadn't before. Alone, and lost at sea before the floods have even begun to rise.

Furina avoids meeting his gaze, crossing her arms before her chest and leaning back as they find themselves in the middle of the quiet hallway. ❝ I haven't the faintest idea of what you mean... If there is any enmity between us, then it is only you that is the source. As I told you before, I will take care of things... it's unlike you to doubt me like this. ❞

He can't trust her...

The statement rings loud inside of his head, especially when he thinks of the lives that have been lost to the rising tides. Such a thing pains him to even consider as a thought. She wants him to trust her and yet... not a thing has been done. He was so bold as to finally inform her that he was aware of her countless investigations and attempts to tackle the prophecy, but she would never follow up beyond those inquiries. Fruitless endeavors or perhaps they were aimless from the start. Her inconsistence has always been a source of frustration for him, it still is, is even more so now, but none of that is obvious. His face is as unreadable and as cold as the people of Fontaine judge him to be like.

When they had argued she demanded that the subject not be brought up again and to his credit he has not, he is merely bringing up a point of friction that has settled between them to the point where neither himself nor her humored their presences being around one another more than it was deemed necessary. Though Neuvillette's reasoning has nothing to do with him holding any ill will against her and more to do with his undertaking of more official matters and relief efforts, he also did not hold the nerve to face her when she's fallen into a trap he helped set up for her unbeknownst to her. Perhaps... a part of him hoped that this trap wouldn't be necessary even though his meeting with the other factions of interest have made it abundantly clear that at this point it was. Maybe he could get her to talk, a part of him believes he can breach this glass wall before him.

That is why he stands before her right now, knocking on her door which she only seals with a lock with words that he's heard before.

What are you doing to help them? What is your plan? You are the hydro archon are you not? Why won't you tell me? Why won't you trust in me enough to tell me?

030🥀