whelming and chalant

————

It’s growing late.

Weariness tugs at your eyelids, the temptation to turn in already growing stronger despite the last embers of the sky still hanging in the sky before you. The sun has nearly completed its descent, the sky painted in watery coppers and soft scarlets melting into a deep, rich violet. A plush seat supports you as you sit on the balcony of your shared home with your partner, Neuvillette. He’s not yet arrived as expected with the demanding schedule of his work. Though you understand well his unrelenting schedule, waking up by your lonesome and later falling asleep by it can sometimes feel difficult.

Sometimes it means you find your mind spinning all sorts of negative thoughts without anything to counter them. You have certainly become better at managing what ails you on your lonesome, but on days like today where the weight of the world seems suffocating, you cannot pull yourself away.

A heavy sigh dragging from your lips, you wrap your arms around yourself, eyes fixed on the distant ocean shore. A gentle breeze caresses your skin, brushing strands of hair loose and into your face. Your purse your lips in mild annoyance, but nonetheless resign your focus to trace the unique shape of the coastline. You watch the far-out waves as they slowly recede and then lap at the shore, bringing with them treasures from the sea.

And yet, those insecurities welling within you could not be silenced by the crashing of the waves. You wonder if you’re good enough, if you’re doing enough, if you know what comes next for you, if you can catch up to the rapidly progressing world surrounding you. The uncertainties of life are best handled by meeting them head on, you know this, and that ruminating over their very existence, over that which you could scarcely control, provides little solace. Despite what you know, you cannot do so. You cannot escape the torrent of thoughts drowning you, those that sought to undermine you and all that you have done.

Unfortunately, the thoughts seem to race faster and faster until suddenly, you feel a hand rest atop your shoulder. Your thoughts instantly dissipate and your body stiffens, eyes widening at the unexpected contact.

No one else should have been here. Not yet, anyhow, given Neuvillette was typically occupied with his work into the late hours of the night. And yet, above you stands your dear partner, eyes narrowed with a profound but soft sorry he makes no attempt to restrain. His eyes search your own for some sort of understanding before he bends down, placing a kiss atop your head.

“Neuvi! You’re back early!” Your greeting comes with a soft gasp, and you force a smile to your lips. Though Neuvillette may not be the most apt when it comes to reading the subtext of emotions, he can distinguish this smile is a ruse to quench his worries. “I missed you, sweetheart. Did you have a good day?”

You lift a hand to rest atop his own, squeezing it. Neuvillette does not yet acknowledge your question, and you can tell that the answer is not yes but more complicated than no. It seems he’s also still clad in his typical work attire, the long, flowing judicial robes adorned with endless golden accessories, tight and itchy fabrics, and stubborn moving pieces that made it an overstimulating nightmare. The first thing you knew he typically does upon arriving was to shed them and slip into something more comfortable, but it seems he’s sought you out first.

He soon lifts his hand from your shoulder. Neuvillette rounds the chair (though truthfully more akin to a cushioned bench) you sit upon, eyeing the vacant spot beside you with some hesitancy. Though you have been together for some time, the occasional romantic action or close proximity flusters him. He feared being impolite or too forward with you, though the Iudex was learning to lessen his worries with you.

The dragon promptly situates himself beside you, the cushion bending beneath his weight. His sits stiffly at first, shoulders set straight, hands folded neatly on his lap. You soon reach over and slide your arms around his waist, pulling him close to you, resting your head against his side.

At this, Neuvillette melts. The Chief Justice glances down at you, placing a hand against your back, drawing you in against him. His lips tighten and tug into the tiny makings of a frown upon noting the furrow in your brow and tension in your jaw. Before he questions you, you speak.

“I’m really glad you’re home early. Do you want to change into something more comfortable first? I know how your robes can be,” you ask, peering up at him. A grateful hum escapes his lips at your thoughtfulness, and he meets your gaze.

Neuvillette shakes his head.

“Ah, I will in a moment. Allow me to be with you a moment longer? Today was… longer than I wished to endure.”

In this moment, you see clearly the exhaustion in his eyes. The dark bags beneath them. The Iudex has an undeniable penchant for running himself to the ground for the sake of his responsibilities, and you have pleaded countless occasions for him to take a rest. Those conversations have scarcely been productive.

“Upon arriving,” he continues, “I had hoped selfishly to hold you in my arms before doing anything else. You are all that has occupied my mind today.” He pauses, searching your eyes. “I admit that I grew worried when I could not find you at first, and I searched every nook and cranny of our home before realizing you were here. Regardless of the outcome of my day, I am perfectly content so long as you are here with me.”

You offer a soft smile at this, and your grip tightens around his waist. “Me too. But are you sure you’re feeling well, darling? You’re sure you don’t want to talk about your day?”

At this, it’s his turn to offer a profound sigh before shaking his head.

“Not particularly, but I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I suppose- my day was initially unremarkable. The usual mountains of paperwork. A heavy trial. Though I’m not entirely unaffected by their proceedings, what transpired today shook my core more profoundly than anything in recent times.”

He takes a moment at this, searching your expression before cautiously proceeding. “I do not wish to relay its contents to you, but it moved me to want to return to you, hold you in my embrace, and ensure your safety.”

“And here I am.” You murmur softly. He nods his head.

“And here you are. I love you very much. I apologize for how my work has stolen so much of our time as of late.” Neuvillette’s voice grows softer as he speaks. He leans down once more, pressing a kiss now against your forehead.

“But,” he continues, “your mind appears elsewhere this evening. Do you wish to speak about it?” His voice is a low murmur, nearly a whisper as he brushes a strand of hair from your face.

Your eyes dart to the side, ears warm with self-consciousness and embarrassment. “I’m not sure. I mean- I do, but it feels so silly actually saying my worries out loud.”

You pause, exhaling, mulling over whether or not you’ll admit everything to him. The way he looks at you with such profound, fond concern is enough to finally do it.

“I just wonder if I’m good enough. If I’m doing enough. If I’m even doing what’s right. It feels like everyone around me has everything figured out, but not me. I know only I can answer this for myself and that such answers take time, but… I just feel so ridiculous, Neuv,” you rub your temple slowly, “I don’t know how to get out of my own head. I should be better at this by now.”

His brows knit together in deep concern as his hand shifts from your back to your cheek. His thumb caresses it tenderly, and angles your face to meet his own.

“You have nothing to feel ridiculous about,” he reassures tenderly, “such questions are normal no matter the person experiencing them, regardless of whatever variables of their person you may throw into the mix. I, too, find myself wondering if I am doing what is truly right, what is truly just. I wonder who I am, who I am meant to be.”

Neuvillette purses his lips in quiet worry as it seems to click how deeply distressed you appear.

“Thank you for sharing your worries. I am sorry that you have been feeling this way, particularly whilst by your lonesome. Would you like to take a walk? Just by the coast near Lumidouce Harbor. I find the wind this evening to be pleasantly gentle and cool, and perhaps it could provide both of us a needed reprieve from the incessant churning of our minds,” he offers quietly. “What do you think, my love?”

You blink in surprise at the offer. Thinking it over, you nod your head, slowly shifting yourself up next to him. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be nice. Thank you for suggesting it."

Night settles upon the shore by the time the two of you arrive. The sun having just finished its descent, a coolness washes over the coast as stars hang in the night sky. The ocean before you is dark yet expansive, stretching out as far as you can see and even beyond the horizon. You tread carefully upon the sand, waves lapping at your toes. The wind embraces you like an old friend. With it, the gentle lull of the sloshing tide quiets your mind, and your eyes trace the bubbles of the current as they draw in and recess.

Though the sight of the coast at night is undoubtedly impressive, what is far more beautiful is how much joy its presence brings to your beloved. Many of your shared outings include trips to the sea, given how fond he is of observing it, of swimming in its embrace, of admiring its natural properties in quiet contemplation. You have seen the way in which his eyes follow the movements of the tide, how he has stood in the wind, eyes closed, admiring the sensation on his skin, how he has glided through the waves like moving within it is simply second nature (to be fair- it is). You have seen how this man, scarcely physically expressive in the ways known to others, smiles faintly whilst watching otters dart beneath the surface, scurry about with shells, or chirp happily in his presence.

In his ardent admiration of the sea, you too have learned to love it like he does. You have found an undeniable pleasantry in standing in the pattering rain by the coast, feeling the droplets wash over your skin, and despite the initial chilling discomfort, the experience itself is surreal and cathartic. It is memorable, and you find yourself yearning for those rainy evenings by your partner, no words shared, but emotional understanding bridged by the rain falling between you.

Though it is not raining tonight, you nonetheless expect your beloved to be admiring the sea as he usually does. Eagerly, you angle yourself to observe his irresistibly adorable and contagious excitement, but instead, you’re met with violet eyes fixed on you. Your eyes widen out of surprise, and a warmth spreads through your cheeks. He catches this, the warmth and the adoration in his visage turning quickly to worry, brows knitting together as he searches your expression for explanation.

But you quickly wipe away said expression and replace it with a gentle, closed-lipped smile, with which you can see his body visibly relaxing. His eyes flicker down to your hand, and Neuvillette asks softly, “May I?”

Upon your approval, he reaches down, fingers slipping through your own. His hand squeezes yours once, firmly, and his thumb caresses the back of your knuckle. He has grown remarkably in terms of physical expression throughout the course of your relationship, finding what brings him both joy and comfort, rather than necessarily subscribing to what society deems necessary for physical contact.

“I am reminded each occasion we visit the coast, how immensely vast the sea truly is. Though I have spent centuries exploring it, observing it, living in and with it, I continually find there is still more I have yet to learn about it,” he admits softly, eyes pulling away from you to trace the horizon.

Neuvillette continues. “It is a bold reminder of the unpredictability of our own lives. There are immeasurable courses we may chart, and even those who seek to follow identical journeys will find that in reality they are anything but. Given the unpredictability of the sea, there will be natural deviations in wind speed, in the direction of the current, in the storms encountered, in the very vessel on which one sails.”

“And yet, we fail to acknowledge that no vessel is the same, that it is a product uniquely tailored to its crew. Perhaps while the exterior may pose no striking physical differences, even the smallest deviation in the interior or structural integrity may induce drastic changes in how the course is sailed. It would then seem unfair to expect every vessel to embark upon a perfectly identical path, and critique oneself to exhaustion when it does not.”

He squeezes your hand. The wind has picked up at this point, his silky locks rustling as they’re jostled about.

“As I mentioned prior, there are innumerable courses one may chart given the vastness of the sea. A new course may be introduced at any point in time should the old no longer suffice. Though whilst creating a new path to follow may not be straightforward nor pleasant, it is nonetheless always possible. We are not bound to what we have set out before us. Much like the tides, we are ever-changing, and yet there are some constants we must learn. It is the very purpose of a journey to discover which paths work and which do not.”

He slows at this. “Should a course not suit your needs, it is far from a failure. If anything, it indicates the new directions in which you should proceed. I believe that every moment shapes the tides of our existences, even if we may not recognize the impact until far later.”

A few flat rocks stand by the receding shoreline. Neuvillette moves to them and sits down upon one, helping you as you lower yourself beside him. You rest your head on his shoulder as you watch distant ships sail towards the Lumidouce Harbor. He hums in a quiet satisfaction, eyes closing for a moment as he takes in this moment.

“You must forgive my ramblings of the sea,” he begins again with a hint of sheepishness, voice soft, low, and almost gravely, in the way it does when he is truly pouring his heart out about something he cares. “But I find them a profound source of metaphors for the nuances of existence in this world. For how I have come to understand humanity to be.”

“At every point in time you believed yourself lost in dark waters, you have still found your way. Through the most tumultuous storms you have yet endured, even when you believed there was no feasible means of achieving that outcome. You should be proud. You are far stronger than you believe. Through the future trials, tribulations, and tempests you may sail through, you will endure, and I shall be there with you always.”

Your lips press together tightly, feeling tears prick at your eyes at his words. You nod your head, moved, fingers unraveling from his own, your arms instead snaking around his waist. He melts once more into your touch, and rests his chin atop your head.

“There is also beauty in change. After centuries of existence, I found pleasure and stability in routine, but equally that change is not only inevitable, but necessary. And yet despite change’s prevalence in our lives, we judge ourselves by extravagant finality states - when there is truly no point in which we shall become a static thing in our existences. In judging whether or not we have become this idealized, distant final self, we injustly ignore the progress that we have made.”

Neuvillette points to the coastline that sits before you both, curving inwards and sloping up into a picturesque mountainside. “Over centuries, the tide and the wind have worked harmoniously to carve this coastline. And yet it was not through a few grand actions that this coast was formed, but through gentle, continuous efforts, often invisible in their individual interactions, over a drastic passage of time. That is to say, there is appreciation required for what one is currently doing and for the progress one has made. Sometimes the fact that one has continuously invested in and put forth these efforts over such an extensive period of time is nearly more remarkable than the outcome in of itself.”

“That is all a rather long-winded manner of saying how proud I am of you, mon amour,” your partner reveals softly, pulling back so he can look at you properly. He lifts his hand, taking your cheek, thumb brushing across it.

“I am so proud of you and the person that you are. I understand how easy it is, in a fast-paced society like Fontaine’s, to feel lost in the sea, attempting to race against a ship whilst you are swimming merely with your own arms and legs. But you as you are in this very moment, as the person I have come to love so very dearly, you are enough. More than enough.”

His lips pull into a smile, though one that is faint - somewhat blurred by the seriousness behind his words. “You have taught me resilience, endurance, of how to love and be loved. You have brought tremendous happiness not only to me, but to those who surround you. I only hope that you, too, stop to give yourself happiness, to provide and take care of yourself as you do for those around you. If not, then I am plentifully happy to fulfill that obligation.”

This time Neuvillette offers a soft laugh, one that rumbles in his throat as it rises. “Through whatever it is we endure, I promise that you shall always have me. I want for nothing more than to chart the waters of this unpredictable existence with you by my side. If you should have me, of course.”

It’s your turn to offer a quiet laugh, and you nod your head. “I would want for nothing more,” you reply, echoing his words with a lovesick smile, “thank you, Neuvi. I needed this. I needed you.”

“Does that mean your mind is more at ease than before? I am rather glad. I apologize for my extended absences from work. I find myself often unable to concentrate the longer some days drag on. I am terribly occupied by thoughts of you, and I yearn to run home into your embrace, to hear your laugh, feel your smile against my lips.” His voice drops to a murmur as he speaks.

“Perhaps change in this department is required. I suppose it is not truly shirking my duties if rest with my beloved is only enhancing my clarity and efficiency of future performances.”

The way he says this sounds entirely serious, but you can pick up the hint of humor in his voice, that he’s attempting to tease you. Still, the sentiment is rather heartwarming.

The two of you sit upon these rocks by the murmuring coastline for nearly another hour longer, basking in the other’s presence. You laugh and discuss trivialities, ranging from ridiculous court antics he has endured in recent times, to a new opera debuting, to a festival in the city you’re looking forward to attending. The wind grows cooler, the tide comes closer and closer, the stars seemingly grow brighter, and at the first sign of a shiver, Neuvillette insists that you both should turn in for the evening.

You do so.

Returning to your home, you both change into more comfortable clothes, and curl up together in your shared bed. Though the curtains have been drawn in, one set is particularly sheer, and the soft moonlight is drawn inwards, cupping your faces and how you are tangled together.

In your partnership, he has slowly unmasked his draconic tendencies. Though he once feared them to be too overbearing for you, through gradual introduction of them to your relationship, he has grown into expressing these tendencies comfortably. Notably, the Iudex is remarkably clingy - a dragon treasures that which it has, especially its mate, and wants to ensure it is forever protected and marked as its own. Though Neuvillette does not view you as a possession, he does, selfishly, wish to hoard you to himself, to hold onto you forever and ensure that no harm comes your way.

At the present, your legs are tangled with his beneath the sheets. His arms engulf you, one beneath your shoulders, the other above, pulling you against his chest. Your arms rest upon his chest, as does your head. You can feel the steady rhythm of his heart and the slow rise of his chest. Every now and then when you trace patterns on his side with your outstretched hand, you feel his heart flutter, and you cannot help but allow a smile to rise to your cheeks.

He has kissed the top of your forehead more than once. Now, his chin rests near the top of your head, his lips ghosting that spot he has peppered with love. Before settling into this position, you had playfully exchanged light kisses. Neuvillette, always sheepish at first, but once relaxed, had peppered kisses along your collarbone, your arms, and later upon your face, the final upon your lips.

Now, he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear, his thumb tracing circles upon your shoulder as he holds you close. He is warm, very much so. Though he occasionally braids his hair before bed, tonight it is free and loose, and fanned out behind him. A few silky strands drape over your chest, and you twirl them around your finger, lovingly studying how the starlight seems to be captured in his violet eyes.

You do not recall when you stopped twirling said strands around your finger, though Neuvillette does. He watches as you sleepily nod to his words, as your responses grow shorter and less comprehensible, as your eyelids slowly flutter shut. Your breaths slow, and your hand falls slowly to his chest, finger slipping from the strand it spun. You look so serene and breathtaking like this, and Neuvillette is relieved to finally see you at peace.

He has feared abandoning his duties in personal pursuits, but seeing you like this in his arms has silenced nearly every doubtful voice gnawing at the back of his mind. Perhaps it is time for him to embrace change, to truly put himself first, if it means more evenings where he can simply hold you against him in the moonlight, studying your breaths, drinking in your beauty and awe.

“You have done more than you could have possibly imagined. Sleep well, mon cœur,” Neuvillette whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “I shall be here when you wake. Je t’aime.”

A short blurb about me: I'm M, 22, she/her. Aside from writing, I adore crochet and language learning! Currently a graduate student so my responses might be on the slower side! My responses tend to range from 2-5 paragraphs, but this can be adjusted as needed.

As for fandoms, I'm currently the most obsessed with: Octopath Traveler (all games) Genshin Impact

But I'm familiar with many fandoms!

Elder Scrolls (Skyrim, Oblivion -- specifically), Stardew Valley, BG3, Dragon Age, The Sandman, Stranger Things, James Cameron's Avatar, etc.

Themes-wise, I adore a good slow-burn, angst, well-written enemies-to-lovers, all the AUs. I'm also always down to write non-fandom stuff :) I love anything high fantasy. Also I’ve been a sucker recently for Stardew Valley AUs.

Some characters I currently enjoy writing: Octopath Traveler: Temenos Mistral, Partitio, Cyrus Albright (fav) Genshin Impact: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Kaveh, Alhaitham.

I'm pretty flexible, though, and love writing new types of characters & OCs! I’m super open to everything, but I’m looking for someone who will write at least one paragraph responses and is 18+.

Thank you!! If interested, please don’t hesitate to reach out. I'm also down to make new friends if anyone wants to yap about any of the stuff listed above!

^ Or if anyone wants to be friends on Genshin 🤣 I’m relatively new to the game and would love some pals on there!