𝐢. 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐞,   𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧.

heavens, his cheeks warmed immediately at the sight of his beloved friend. one whose presence brought him joy in more ways than one. the dragon within purred in delight — being so close to vautrin simultaneously gave him confidence and swept it all away. "i apologize for the early intrusion, but i believe it to be preferable to notify you at your earliest convenience."

ah — still endearingly verbose.

"lady furina will be performing at the opera epiclese, and i procured two tickets for you and i to attend." high in the booths, where only they will occupy the small space. where neuvillette can intertwine clawed fingers with vautrin's — feel the warmth of human skin and the primordial sea. "if you cannot attend, i understand and . . ."

A visit from the Iudex was not something he had expected at this hour (though, really, who else would be knocking upon his door? beyond the melusines, he is still somewhat devoid of connections in this new world) - but it is a very welcome surprise indeed. Primordial eyes widen just a fraction in an automatic response to seeing that distractingly pretty face upon his doorstep, and it takes the former captain a moment to register that he is being spoken to.

When his mind finally catches up, a flood of warmth spreads deep in his chest, and his eyes soften with unrestrained fondness. Oh, how he wishes Neuvillette will never change. It would be a sad day indeed, in his eyes, should the Iudex ever alter the mannerisms of his speech. It is something so wholly Neuvillette that it would be like losing a piece of him entirely.

He knows him well enough to be patient, to wait for the purpose of his visit to be revealed in time. He presumes he is to be expected somewhere, for some as yet determined reason, which he assumes is of an official nature. He is yet to find his position in this new age - perhaps, then, Neuvillette is intending to find him work?

He couldn't be further from the truth.

Tickets to a performance. To attend... together.

There's an instant flush to the man's skin, a slight ripple in the primordial shimmer visible only to certain eyes. Though the quickening of his heart is known only to him, he cannot hide the rather more obvious hitch in his breath. "No-," the word leaps from his lips before he can form a full response.

Residing in a simple package with a brilliant blue - violet bow was a hairpin of matching color. And when Neuvillette hands it to him, there was a noticeable warmth to his cheeks that he simply could not get rid of. "It has been too long," he murmurs — the corners of his mouth upturned slightly, "so I have procured you a gift that I hope is to your tastes."

It takes him a moment to understand the significance of the gift. Spending four hundred years adrift in a timeless sea has certainly altered his perspective of the passing of days. It is only when he notices the smile - a rarity in itself, never without meaning - and hears the softly spoken words that he understands. His birthday.

"Oh." There's a flash of surprise across his features as he looks between his old friend and the gift held between them. "Is it really that day already?" The surprise softens then into warmth, and he accepts the package with an almost delicate kind of care. "You didn't have to..."

Though, he would be lying if he said the gesture didn't conjure a flutter in his chest, a sensation he is still too stubborn, too afraid, to acknowledge.

His fingertips toy with the bow, unable to avoid making the association with the man before him. His colours, he thinks, and the colours of the Primordial Sea. Their colours, now. "You remembered? After all this time?"

He can delay no longer, his curiosity as ever getting the better of him. He unwraps the package with the same care it was clearly wrapped with, gently lifts the lid of the box nestled within. He feels the breath catch in his throat as his eyes settle upon the hues of blue-violet within, and he lifts a gaze of matching colour to Neuvillette.

The sentiment is not lost on him. Were he to wear such colours, it would be an undeniable statement.

"It is a wonderful gift, Neuvillette." The box is cradled to his chest within one hand, the other reaching out towards the Iudex. There is no hesitation now, no tentative pause; fingers curl loosely, lightly, around a gloved hand, then grasp firmly, warmly.

He is so entirely unchanged. Were he not already aware of the great passage of time, Vautrin could have easily believed he had been gone only a few weeks - not centuries. He had always known Neuvillette was something other, an unspecified being separate to the humans of Fontaine. He heard the speculations, of course, but never put any stock into them. It didn't matter to him who or what Neuvillette was.

He was his friend. That was all that mattered.

Perhaps it is the time he's spent within the Primordial Sea, but there is almost a glow to the other's skin. It's not quite the same as the shimmer he can see upon his own, but... there is a similar energy to it.

"I know I am surely interrupting your busy schedule..." His old friend surely hasn't changed in that respect, either. His gaze flits, briefly, to the scattered paperwork now littering the floor, disordered, chaotic.

He shouldn't have sprung this on him. He should have had someone send word ahead, he should have-

"I am afraid it is a... complicated tale. I am still piecing it together myself, actually. But... your eyes do not deceive you. It is truly me." A hand presses to his heart, his expression honest and earnest. "A little changed, perhaps, a little lost - but still me."

There's an itch to reach for him, to lay a hand on his arm - in comfort? Reassurance? To prove that he is a living, breathing being and not some figment of the imagination? But he hesitates. They were friends, yes, but did they ever touch? He cannot recall a moment where they stepped beyond that professional boundary.

“   . . .  i  see.   ”      oh  hydro  dragon,  my  hydro  dragon:  must  you  keep  up  this  facade?  his  old  friend  will  understand  the  lack  of  decorum,  yet  he  insisted  on  continuing  it.  without  a  spoken  word  neuvillette  bent  down  to  gather  the  scattered  paperwork    ——    arranging  each  parchment  &  file  into  a  neat  pile  atop  his  desk.  the  mention  of  past  regrets  made  him  pause:  hands  trembled  briefly,  only  to  quickly  calm  like  the  unpredictable  rain  now  hitting  the  window  from  outside.  when  the  iudex  turned  back  to  face  vautrin,  his  gaze  was  filled  with  sorrow:  that  lilac  color  &  blue  antennae  mingling  with  white  locks  dimmed.

Neuvillette ⚖🐲🌊

❛   unlike what you may be thinking , i am not here to discuss the false allegations placed on lyney.   ❜

He can already feel his presence. Another dragon, obviously younger than him but it still makes the older one’s scales prickle out of nerves. He is within his territory yes, but only to visit a friend. He hopes he’s just not as territorial as he is. But now he’s face to face with him after being told that Furina isn’t around. Well… might as well try to get along right?

As he stands before the Palais Mermonia, he wonders if perhaps he should have accepted the Duke's offer to host this meeting in his office within the Fortress.

But he had wanted to see the surface again, wanted to see this changed world with his own eyes - eyes that now shine with the primordial sea. He had declined the offer of an escort, too, wanting to take his time, to retrace old steps, relive old memories. Much of Fontaine is as he remembers - the architecture has not changed, even if some structures are new; the air smells the same, carries that fresh tang of the sea.

The people too, seem much the same upon the surface. They still laugh and gossip, still sweep the streets in their high fashion (has that changed, too?), still indulge in sweet treats and aromatic teas. The stark difference that throws him, that catches the breath in his throat-

Melusines. Melusines walk amongst the humans like they have always belonged there. They are greeted with friendly waves, warm smiles. The uniforms they wear are honoured, respected. He was warned of this by the Duke and his delightful Head Nurse, but he couldn't believe it until he saw it for himself.

There is a well of emotion building within his chest, at risk of spilling over as he finally finds himself before this painfully familiar building. He knows who he will find within and he suddenly finds himself rooted to the ground, unable to take that first step.

Four hundred years have passed since he last stepped through those doors.

He stands there long enough to earn a few peculiar glances from the gardes at the doors. He doesn't want to meet his old friend within the grasp of law enforcement - like the last time he saw him - and so he summons the strength he needs, and finally breaks through that boundary.

As much as it pains him, he ignores the Melusine who hurries after him as he approaches the office of the Iudex. He will apologise later, but he doesn't have an appointment and he cannot face being turned away now. Her insistent remarks fall on deaf ears as he pushes through the doors-

-his heart leaps into his throat. He is unchanged: of course he is. At the first glimpse of those eyes, he feels the tension he has carried from the Fortress lift. In this strange new world he has found himself in, here is his only constant.

so  he  prepared  himself,  even  though  his  elegant  form  not  once  moved  from  its  spot  on  the  chair - behind - desk.  but  who  walked  in    ——    an  old  friend  long - since  dead;  an  entity  wearing  his  face,  was  greeted  with  an  expression  that  could  only  be  described  as  bewildered,  haunted.  curious,  undoubtedly,  as  if  he  were  hallucinating,  but  emotions  have  already  burst  forth.  despite  neuvillette’s  endeavor  to  maintain  control  over  them,  he  failed.  unaware  of  his  own  movements,  the  hydro  sovereign  realized  he  now  stood  directly  before  vautrin    ——    important  work  dropped  on  the  floor, sharp inhale of breath.

      “   is  this  . . .   ”

what  flowed  through  him  was  life  itself,  but  a  peculiar  saltiness  lingered  in  the  air.  those  eyes  gave  it  away  &  concern  fixed  itself  on    (    typically    )    tranquil  expression.  a  clawed  hand  trembles,  &  neuvillette  tries  to  calm  it  down.

            “   y - you  . . .   ”

It had been a bold move to stray so far from Liyue's waters, and yet he does not regret it. At least here he cannot sense the thrum of geo that lingers in every rock of Liyue, nor feel the apprehension that he may be discovered by the last yaksha prowling to continue his lord's mission. No, here in Fontaine, Osial can enjoy waters anew without those presences.

Though that does not mean he can abandon caution. There is power here, a great one, as the nation has witnessed.

He stands behind the Palais Mermonia gaze cast upon the waters beyond and feeling the life out there that thrums beneath the surface. The exapanse before him is settling, grounding in a way that calms him, at least until he feels the presence that steps into his proximity.

"I wondered how long it would take until I remained alone within this domain..." A turn of the head fixes vivid cerulean upon the other, the Iudex of Fontaine so he has heard. For a moment skin ripples, a blush of blue swimming across before it resumes the hue of his human vessel.

but  there  was  . . .  something  behind  palais  mermonia.  an  entity  he  could  sense:  calm  yet  dangerous.  the  nation  had  just  barely  started  to heal:  as  its  ruler,  it  fell  on  his  shoulders  to  investigate.  his  presence  was  announced  by  the  tap,  tap  of  a  hydro - infused  cane  &  a  soft  voice  that  flowed  like  water.