[ ...it's just like Zhongli had said. He wants to shake her--stop her from talking--stop her from saying the exact thing that the once Archon of Geo had suggested to him nearly--nearly a week and a half ago when they'd discussed godhood, the fact that his only previous dealings with 'god' were with this woman who's currently slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
Zhongli, too, had suggested that she'd not been bored, but rather, that she'd been so hurt by what she saw that she had to escape before she broke in front of her people.
And yet, he doesn't shake or jostle her. So the full force of her words hit him like a freight train--and it's only due to his years of training and gumption that he doesn't crumble there, on the stairs leading up.
...He will pause to lean on the wall, however. That burn in the back of his throat rising. He will keep the wine down. ]
Fake.
[ that's the word the Duke decides to repeat. Once again--he remembers those words told to him. 'The destroyed seat of the Hydro Archon...' ...What did it mean.
What--no. Who. Who was Furina de Fontaine? ]
Said as if someone like you, with such a power to her step and every act she takes could be a fake. You have the confidence and stride to carry the entire country with pride.
Showing a bit of tearful remorse wouldn't have shaken your people.
...
Even gods are allowed to have a heart, aren't they.
You're wrong, I don't have any power. I never did.
[ he was not there at her trial, of course, he did not see as the crowd turned on her and all her long years of work crumbled into dust. yet despite the trial, the official word amongst the people is that the hydro archon sacrificed her power, her divinity, to save them. a kinder story that she deserves regardless of how true it may be.
there are very few who know the whole truth, and she thinks maybe one of those should be him. ]
I was nothing more than an actor upon a stage in a play I thought would never end. I was tasked to play a part and I did so to perfection, all the while a part of me slept in the shadows gathering whatever she needed to avert the prophecy. [ focalors, her mirror-self, a reflection that is as much furina as furina is focalors. ] I tricked everyone for five hundred years, I lied to everyone I met. I lied to Neuvillette, I lied to Clorinde, I lied to you.
[ her eyes burn as tears build in the corner of her eyes, her head bowed as he carries her onward. ]
I don't know the particulars, but I do know the seat of the Hydro Archon is no more. It's been destroyed. And I am painfully human. I'm not a god, I am just... Furina.
[ he... has to stop walking. He's at the bottom of the stairs, and all of the strength he has in his legs has waned as the girl on his back keeps... talking.
He remembers what Zhongli said to him, about the seat of the Archon being 'No More'. Hearing it from Furina herself...?
He feels his chest aching. And he doesn't know if it's grief for the girl--the 500 year old cursed woman who was forced to play a part for so long--or if it's grief for the shattering of his own beliefs--everything he knew to be Real being scattered like dust in the wind.
Just another string pulled, another knot undone and he's left with loose ends and confusion, mixed with something so close to anger that he can feel the bones in his hands creaking--but there's nothing to strike. How do you ... punch the gods who ruined the life of one girl--and could be directly blamed for the mess that your life has become up until now?
[ he stops moving and the weight of her own words comes crashing down upon her, a cold and heavy weight that makes her grip increase around the fabric of his clothes. he deserves the truth, but the truth is brutal and uncaring as it all but tears apart the foundations that makes up how he sees the world. she feels her stomach sink in part with guilt and in part from the alcohol she recklessly consumed.
is he angry? is he upset with her? after all she did it would make sense if he was. she lorded herself over all of fontaine for five hundred years as a god when she was nothing of the sort. he has every right to be mad, as does the whole of fontaine.
(yet the people don't know of her lie, they only know how their archon sacrificed her divinity to save them from celestia's wrath.)
but it is not anger that she gets, but laughter. why is he laughing? she almost digs her nails into him indignantly, almost annoyed by the reaction. ]
I - what? You listen to your former Archon confess her crimes and you laugh??
[ you're better as just furina. tied down by nothing, free of everything.
as quickly appeared indignation fades away, leaving exhaustion in its wake. his words settle gently on her shoulders and she almost breaks out into sobs from them. they are kinder than she thinks she deserves. ]
Sorry. You might be right... but how can a bird fly after being chained down for so long?
[ he can feel her indignation. he's not drunk enough to have missed that. her words, her tone--of course she'd be upset to have someone hear her woes and laugh at them.
But the laughter wasn't out of amusement or mockery--it was a helpless sound. The helpless sort of laugh one does when they're faced with something they have no goddamn hope to understand or help. And for the duke, who lives off the ability to help others--there's nothing more helpless than the idea that someone had lived so long just to play a role, not allowed to be themselves, with such a fate on their shoulders that an entire nation could fall if she missed one step in the dance.
he wanted to curse the gods for making such an innocent girl live like that, for so long. ]
The chains are gone, aren't they? Every pair of handcuffs has a key. Not only is that world far from where we are, but the Prophecy passed, and your chains receded with the flood waters.
Learning a new skill takes time. Especially flying. But with enough practice and time spent at it, well.
[ her fingers curl around whatever they can grip as she exhales, resting her forehead on the back of his neck. he is warm and smells faintly of the ocean, of copper and brine. it is comforting in a way, grounding, the only thing keeping her from sinking into the murky depths and drowning. ]
Who gave you the right to be so... so wise. [ furina huffs and all but buries her face in the back of his neck. ] I'm the one who has lived for five hundred years but here you are, asswaging my fears with your words.
[ of course he is, didn't he say he would do just that? settle her heart whenever turmoil would visit it? and she, she said she would do the very same for him. ]
Take us inside, Wriothesley. My legs are becoming numb.
The thing about growing up in the Fortress is that you need to grow up fast. [ he wouldn't personally call himself wise--tired is probably a better term. ] I might not have lived five hundred years, but I've lived over thirty and had to learn what takes most people fifty years to learn in about ten.
[ he's going to hoist her up on his back a little more. A little more secure. He begins up the steps again, his footing more sure this time, despite how tipsy he felt. ]
If it annoys you, you can scold me for it in the morning.
[ he hoists her up a little more and she tightens her grip on him, burying her face even further against him. gods above, she wishes she could just stop talking, stop the words constantly spilling from her mouth, but she can't. she keeps talking as he walks up the stairs and all she can hope is that neuvillette isn't sitting there waiting for them to return home.
it would be horrible if he was sitting there with that disappointed scowl on his face. if they are lucky he will have already been asleep, or still working, or just not around in general. she couldn't stand it if he saw her in this state. ]
I'm not great at talking to people, you know. A secret I'll trust you to keep.
[ he could play the part of friendly extrovert, but he was in fact, actually the opposite. He preferred the quiet, and conversations were difficult for him.
He leans a little on the door of the apartment, testing the door. Locked. Of course. He fumbles for a key--at least sober enough to manage to scrape it into the keyhole and get into the house. With Furina on his back, it takes a little effort to get them both inside as quietly as they could.
Crossing into the livingroom--they'll get a good view of the Hydro Dragon very much passed out on his couch, surrounded by piles of documents. Again.
Wriothesley shakes his head, putting a finger to his lips, and continues on to shuffle Furina to her room.
It might be a little lacking in grace when he puts her on her bed, but. He's been drinking. So sue him. ]
[ furina mumbles something about promising to keep his secret as they reach the door of the apartment, already half asleep as he fumbles with the keys to get them both inside. she does not notice as they enter, nor does she really notice as they pass neuvillette asleep on the couch making only soft noise in agreement.
it's really only when he shuffles into her room that she comes back to herself, eyes fluttering open as he deposits her down onto her bed with a noticeable lack of grace.
maybe it is the alcohol still coursing through her system, or the sudden lack of warmth now that she isn't being carried on his back, but furina reaches out grab his hand before he moves away. holding him in place. ]
Thank you...
[ she tugs at his hand though there is no strength to it, her grip faltering as she struggles to remain awake. ]
[ he has a path in his mind. Furina's in bed, and safe--now he just has to make it to his room and fall asleep in any position than on his back.
He makes it about 1.2 inches before he realises he's being held onto. Turning his head and looking down at Furina--and that hand that's gripped in his own. There's a flutter of something in his chest. Noone's. Ever...
The feeling of her fingers on his own feels .... strange. Her hands are so much smaller. Long, delicate fingers that feel so soft and brittle in his own rough, calloused ones. Huge hands that were more accustomed to becoming fists than they were anything else, and here they are, being gently held by a hand that's so much weaker--and yet, the grip roots him in place. ]
...Furina?
[ he speaks her name, questioning. His head tilting to the side, trying to ... figure out what it is what she wanted.
...The look in her eyes. Ah.
He understands. He lets out a quiet, long sigh... ]
[ and he moves to sit on the floor. He's tall enough that he can rest his arms along the top of the bed, moving her hand up to the soft covers, but not trying to force him to let go.
He'll lean against the bed, and rest his head between his own arms. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Zhongli, too, had suggested that she'd not been bored, but rather, that she'd been so hurt by what she saw that she had to escape before she broke in front of her people.
And yet, he doesn't shake or jostle her. So the full force of her words hit him like a freight train--and it's only due to his years of training and gumption that he doesn't crumble there, on the stairs leading up.
...He will pause to lean on the wall, however. That burn in the back of his throat rising.
He will keep the wine down. ]
Fake.
[ that's the word the Duke decides to repeat. Once again--he remembers those words told to him. 'The destroyed seat of the Hydro Archon...' ...What did it mean.
What--no. Who. Who was Furina de Fontaine? ]
Said as if someone like you, with such a power to her step and every act she takes could be a fake.
You have the confidence and stride to carry the entire country with pride.
Showing a bit of tearful remorse wouldn't have shaken your people.
...
Even gods are allowed to have a heart, aren't they.
no subject
[ he was not there at her trial, of course, he did not see as the crowd turned on her and all her long years of work crumbled into dust. yet despite the trial, the official word amongst the people is that the hydro archon sacrificed her power, her divinity, to save them. a kinder story that she deserves regardless of how true it may be.
there are very few who know the whole truth, and she thinks maybe one of those should be him. ]
I was nothing more than an actor upon a stage in a play I thought would never end. I was tasked to play a part and I did so to perfection, all the while a part of me slept in the shadows gathering whatever she needed to avert the prophecy. [ focalors, her mirror-self, a reflection that is as much furina as furina is focalors. ] I tricked everyone for five hundred years, I lied to everyone I met. I lied to Neuvillette, I lied to Clorinde, I lied to you.
[ her eyes burn as tears build in the corner of her eyes, her head bowed as he carries her onward. ]
I don't know the particulars, but I do know the seat of the Hydro Archon is no more. It's been destroyed. And I am painfully human. I'm not a god, I am just... Furina.
no subject
He remembers what Zhongli said to him, about the seat of the Archon being 'No More'.
Hearing it from Furina herself...?
He feels his chest aching. And he doesn't know if it's grief for the girl--the 500 year old cursed woman who was forced to play a part for so long--or if it's grief for the shattering of his own beliefs--everything he knew to be Real being scattered like dust in the wind.
Just another string pulled, another knot undone and he's left with loose ends and confusion, mixed with something so close to anger that he can feel the bones in his hands creaking--but there's nothing to strike.
How do you ... punch the gods who ruined the life of one girl--and could be directly blamed for the mess that your life has become up until now?
...Wriothesley stops at the bottom of the stairs.
And he starts to laugh. ]
...You're better as 'Just Furina'.
Tied down by nothing.
Free of everything.
no subject
is he angry? is he upset with her? after all she did it would make sense if he was. she lorded herself over all of fontaine for five hundred years as a god when she was nothing of the sort. he has every right to be mad, as does the whole of fontaine.
(yet the people don't know of her lie, they only know how their archon sacrificed her divinity to save them from celestia's wrath.)
but it is not anger that she gets, but laughter. why is he laughing? she almost digs her nails into him indignantly, almost annoyed by the reaction. ]
I - what? You listen to your former Archon confess her crimes and you laugh??
[ you're better as just furina. tied down by nothing, free of everything.
as quickly appeared indignation fades away, leaving exhaustion in its wake. his words settle gently on her shoulders and she almost breaks out into sobs from them. they are kinder than she thinks she deserves. ]
Sorry. You might be right... but how can a bird fly after being chained down for so long?
no subject
But the laughter wasn't out of amusement or mockery--it was a helpless sound. The helpless sort of laugh one does when they're faced with something they have no goddamn hope to understand or help.
And for the duke, who lives off the ability to help others--there's nothing more helpless than the idea that someone had lived so long just to play a role, not allowed to be themselves, with such a fate on their shoulders that an entire nation could fall if she missed one step in the dance.
he wanted to curse the gods for making such an innocent girl live like that, for so long. ]
The chains are gone, aren't they? Every pair of handcuffs has a key. Not only is that world far from where we are, but the Prophecy passed, and your chains receded with the flood waters.
Learning a new skill takes time.
Especially flying.
But with enough practice and time spent at it, well.
You'll get the hang of it.
no subject
Who gave you the right to be so... so wise. [ furina huffs and all but buries her face in the back of his neck. ] I'm the one who has lived for five hundred years but here you are, asswaging my fears with your words.
[ of course he is, didn't he say he would do just that? settle her heart whenever turmoil would visit it? and she, she said she would do the very same for him. ]
Take us inside, Wriothesley. My legs are becoming numb.
no subject
[ he's going to hoist her up on his back a little more. A little more secure. He begins up the steps again, his footing more sure this time, despite how tipsy he felt. ]
If it annoys you, you can scold me for it in the morning.
I'll listen to all your complaints, too.
no subject
[ he hoists her up a little more and she tightens her grip on him, burying her face even further against him. gods above, she wishes she could just stop talking, stop the words constantly spilling from her mouth, but she can't. she keeps talking as he walks up the stairs and all she can hope is that neuvillette isn't sitting there waiting for them to return home.
it would be horrible if he was sitting there with that disappointed scowl on his face. if they are lucky he will have already been asleep, or still working, or just not around in general. she couldn't stand it if he saw her in this state. ]
You're not annoying...
[ she sighs and closes her eyes. ]
no subject
I'm not great at talking to people, you know. A secret I'll trust you to keep.
[ he could play the part of friendly extrovert, but he was in fact, actually the opposite. He preferred the quiet, and conversations were difficult for him.
He leans a little on the door of the apartment, testing the door. Locked. Of course. He fumbles for a key--at least sober enough to manage to scrape it into the keyhole and get into the house. With Furina on his back, it takes a little effort to get them both inside as quietly as they could.
Crossing into the livingroom--they'll get a good view of the Hydro Dragon very much passed out on his couch, surrounded by piles of documents. Again.
Wriothesley shakes his head, putting a finger to his lips, and continues on to shuffle Furina to her room.
It might be a little lacking in grace when he puts her on her bed, but. He's been drinking. So sue him. ]
--There we are.
Delivered safely.
The Duke always keeps his promises, see.
no subject
it's really only when he shuffles into her room that she comes back to herself, eyes fluttering open as he deposits her down onto her bed with a noticeable lack of grace.
maybe it is the alcohol still coursing through her system, or the sudden lack of warmth now that she isn't being carried on his back, but furina reaches out grab his hand before he moves away. holding him in place. ]
Thank you...
[ she tugs at his hand though there is no strength to it, her grip faltering as she struggles to remain awake. ]
1/2
He makes it about 1.2 inches before he realises he's being held onto. Turning his head and looking down at Furina--and that hand that's gripped in his own.
There's a flutter of something in his chest. Noone's. Ever...
The feeling of her fingers on his own feels .... strange. Her hands are so much smaller. Long, delicate fingers that feel so soft and brittle in his own rough, calloused ones. Huge hands that were more accustomed to becoming fists than they were anything else, and here they are, being gently held by a hand that's so much weaker--and yet, the grip roots him in place. ]
...Furina?
[ he speaks her name, questioning. His head tilting to the side, trying to ... figure out what it is what she wanted.
...The look in her eyes.
Ah.
He understands. He lets out a quiet, long sigh... ]
2/2
He'll lean against the bed, and rest his head between his own arms. ]
Get some sleep. You need it.
I won't go anywhere.