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Becoming mortal had its fair share of consequences. Furina would’ve focused on the important things–permanent loss of divinity, power limited to the vision she held close, a gaping sense of emptiness now that the role she dedicated her whole life to playing was over. The usual.
Except she had bigger problems now. She just never thought that the scope of her problems would ever include a high-grade fever. Well, considering the fact that her previous problems revolved around the survival or extinction of her entire nation.
It felt awful. Is this what humans had to deal with on a regular basis?
Furina was convinced that it would go away with rest. But neglect and a frail mortal body had kept her from recovering for three days now.
Not to mention how difficult it was to present as healthy and fine in front of the almost-hourly rotation of Melusines that Neuvillette would send to her residence to “check on her”.
A knock came from the front door.
Ugh…
Furina stood up slowly, her head throbbing as she walked. It was hard to keep her balance, the cold tiles painful against her bare feet, her stomach growling with lack of a proper meal. The incessant pounding on the door didn’t help either.
She didn’t even have time to correct her posture and put on a smile before she crashed against the door while opening it.
However, instead of being greeted by a small figure in Marechaussee Phantom uniform, standing in front of her was the strongest Champion Duelist herself.
There was silence between them as Furina processed her shock and Clorinde took a good look at the smaller girl’s pale face, then at the unkempt living conditions inside the house.
It just had to be Clorinde, didn’t it? Without warning, Furina swiftly moved to slam the door shut, only to be stopped rather effortlessly by Clorinde. Furina put her whole weight against the door, and noted with annoyance that she wasn’t putting up much of a fight against the Champion Duelist, who only needed one arm to keep it open.
“Clorinde! I’m fine!”
“I didn’t ask anything yet. And evidently, you’re not fine,” she answered with an expression that hinted at boredom, which only further flustered Furina until she eventually stopped struggling and sighed.
“Why are you here….” Furina asked weakly. She averted her eyes yet put no trace of hostility in her voice. She was simply tired, and maybe somewhere in her mind was a thought filled with hope that someone might actually come to take care of her. Not that she’d ever admit it.
Instead of answering, Clorinde showed what was in her other hand: a small box of a familiar color, which Furina instantly recognized as the packaging of a pastry from Café Lutece. Her hands were reaching for it before she could think. Clorinde put the box behind her back and placed her free hand against Furina’s forehead.
“As I expected. I can feel your fever through my glove.”
While prepared for more retaliation, Clorinde was only met with another resigned sigh and Furina pressing her head against her hand like a cat. She gently cupped her face and turned her head so she could inspect it more closely. From afar, and with Furina’s acting skills, her sick pallor and fever-flushed cheeks could’ve actually passed as more than healthy.
“How long?”
“Uhh… a day.”
“How long, Lady Furina?”
The flinch was small, but unmistakable. Furina finally met the duelist’s eyes. The mood as she answered would’ve been heavy if not for the ridiculousness of the whole scene of her cheeks being squashed in Clorinde’s firm grip.
“Three days… I- I can take care of myself!”
“Surely.”
Clorinde silently thanked herself for deciding to come here. It was a stroke of luck that she had free time–albeit only a little–before she had to head to Poisson for work.
She let Furina lean on her as they walked into the house, noting that the place hadn’t been cleaned in a while. When they got to the living room, she saw that it was littered with papers strewn over the couch and an open notebook with hastily scribbled notes.
Furina must have been rehearsing and overworking her portrayal to perfection again. News was spreading in the Court that she was playing the lead in a huge play that would be shown in the Opera Epiclese next month. It was basically all the people talked about, which Clorinde supposed was a welcome and refreshing change from the trials that were previously considered as the most gossip-worthy topics.
So of course Furina was eager to give her best performance. This was bound to happen. Clorinde should’ve checked on her sooner.
But it was not the time to lecture her. After setting her down on the couch, Clorinde took to tidying the place up a little. She picked up the papers and organized them in a stack, then put them between the pages of the notebook to bookmark where Furina had left it open. She saw a glimpse of the crammed annotations and notes, but couldn’t really make sense of them.
“Don’t look at those!” Furina sat up suddenly, then put a hand on her head from dizziness.
“I’m sure I won’t even understand-”
“But I want you to see how I do it. You are coming, right? To watch?”
Clorinde was taken aback. There was a sudden peculiar energy in Furina as she awaited her answer, a little of the spark back in her two-colored eyes.
Clorinde gave a rare smile. This much didn’t change about Furina at all. In fact, she found it strange that the person before her had spent 500 years playing Archon, living a lie, yet Clorinde who hadn’t even spent a fraction of that time working for her could effortlessly name which pastries she preferred, could adapt her manner of speech, could tell when she was being deliberately dramatic, could imagine her laughter from memory, could distinguish it as real or performative.
Even the inexplicable way she just felt she had to check on Furina today of all days spoke for something, did it not? Was this not something that could be counted as closeness?
No matter the nature and enormity of her lie, Furina was still in many ways always like herself. And that did not change.
“Of course. I purchased a ticket as soon as they were sold.”
Clorinde had little idea of the importance of her answer until she saw Furina visibly relax. She took out the newspaper she picked up this morning and gave it to her. On the front page was an advertisement for the play, describing it as ‘the most anticipated performance to ever be witnessed at the Opera Epiclese!’
“You are still Fontaine’s most adored Lady Furina. But you cannot give your best performance if you neglect your health.”
It wasn’t something Clorinde would usually say, but she felt the need to. It paid off, for Furina’s face danced with shadows of hesitancy and resignation before she finally exhaled and gave the duelist a small nod.
It wasn’t a verbal assent, nor was it without reservation, but it was at least enough reassurance.
Now for the next step.
“I’m calling him.”
“What?”
The speed at which Furina’s moods changed was not a challenge for Clorinde. Furina may have not known Clorinde for long, but Clorinde had grown up with the Hydro Archon as an immovable presence in her life, then had gotten close to that Archon in the years she spent fulfilling her duty to protect her and the justice she upheld.
And while she was unsure if Furina considered her a friend, she was certainly hoping that was the case because of what she was about to do next. Though, it was kind of hard to top the first time she went against her Archon’s wishes.
“Give me your keys.”
Clorinde spotted the keys and snatched them before Furina could stop her. She didn’t even have to mention Neuvillette’s name to send her into a spiral of panic. Clorinde expected as much, and was banking on the chance that Furina would later be grateful that she warned her at all.
Besides, it really was for the best. Clorinde had to leave in a few minutes anyway. And if she trusted anyone to make sure Furina was taken care of while sick, it had to be Neuvillette.
“You don’t have to take the keys!”
“Hm? Would you let him in when he knocked if I didn’t?”
“I-”
“Would you prefer that I call Sigewinne instead?”
In any case, it was too late. Clorinde moved quickly and efficiently, scribbling a note on a blank piece of paper and wrapping the key securely inside. And to further seal Furina’s fate, another knock came from the front door.
One peek at the wall clock showed that the Melusine in charge–at this time of the day, it was probably Aeife–arrived on the dot as usual. Clorinde distracted Furina by gently taking her by the shoulders and laying her down on the couch.
“Make sure to eat the pastries once you feel better.”
And she was gone. Furina could hear her conversing with Aeife outside, giving her instructions to deliver the note and keys to the Palais Mermonia, which felt very much like a death sentence. Neuvillette seeing her in her current condition was the last thing she needed, though she couldn’t exactly blame Clorinde for what seemed like the best solution.
Without the strength to even sit up or vocalize a protest, Furina silently hoped that Neuvillette would be too busy to drop by in person. She imagined him getting the news and assigning one of the Melusines to take care of her instead, or even maybe summon Sigewinne on an urgent call.
But she knew it was wrong the moment she tried to picture it. She knew Neuvillette too well. Of course he would come without question, would do it even without neglecting his work, would move the heavens to ensure her wellbeing.
And considering that he got his powers back, he quite literally could.
She gave up on the delusions as soon as they started, and instead opted to will herself into a miracle of getting better before he arrived. Maybe then she could greet him at the door and tell him it was all a ruse. Maybe she could even tease him a little.
“Were you that worried about me? I certainly didn’t take you for the worrying type! Now I feel bad for taking the Hydro Dragon’s attention away from his people.”
Yeah… not happening.
Get better, get better, get better. Furina repeated the words in her head until they lost meaning, until her consciousness finally faded.
The first thing that registered when she opened her eyes was that something smelled good. Her stomach was growling before she was even fully awake, and a part of her was disoriented enough to think that Clorinde’s visit was all a dream.
“Are you strong enough to sit?”
Or maybe not.
The sight of Neuvillette was immediately sobering. Not only was he here, in her house, but his usual Iudex robes were absent on his figure, his dress shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Never in 500 years did Furina expect to see him like this. Though, it admittedly paled in comparison and would never make up for the surprises she’d certainly given him before.
Neuvillette regarded her with inquisitive eyes, not the eyes he used in court when trying to read a defendant, but eyes that showed what Furina could only guess was genuine concern.
It was a feeling as comforting as it was terrifying; the novelty of it confused her to no end.
Furina chased the thoughts out of her mind, then saw that Neuvillete was holding a tray with a steaming bowl on it. Ah, so that’s what that was.
“I’m not hungry,” she mumbled into the pillow as she turned her face away from him. She heard a soft clatter as he set down the tray on the coffee table, then felt the cushions dip as he sat down on the couch and reached for her, carefully helping her sit up.
“You must eat.”
“I’m not-”
Fate was not short of its betrayals today. Her stomach growled and overpowered her weak voice. She wished she could at least be spared some dignity, but really, the scent of the food was too much. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d eaten properly.
And so, she reluctantly picked up the spoon. Consomme Purete. She could tell as soon as she tasted it. The perfect food for the sick. It was strange, too, how Furina could somehow tell that he put great effort into the dish, though it wasn’t particularly difficult to make. It warmed her in more ways than one.
As if sensing her embarrassment, Neuvillette stood up and went back to the kitchen as she ate and returned by the time she was finished to take the tray. He was also carrying a damp washcloth, medicine, and a glass of water, which he handed her before she could protest.
Furina was really much worse than she thought. She downed the medicine in two gulps and laid back down, her vision beginning to swim again, though she felt immensely better after finally eating.
“I am going to check your fever,” Neuvillette warned before placing a bare hand against her forehead. It was a poor warning as he didn’t wait for her to respond before doing it, but he moved with such a gentleness that it didn’t surprise her at all.
A gentleness, she might add, that Furina never associated with him but made sense all the same.
She kept silent as he cleared the hair away from her face and placed the damp washcloth on her forehead. It was surprisingly refreshing. Neuvillette then sat down on the floor, his back facing her, and picked a file from a new stack of papers that were next to Furina’s scripts and notes. The sight of them side-by-side roused an emotion she could not name.
They remained in a content silence as Neuvillette read what was probably a recent case he had. The Court had changed significantly since Furina yielded her power, but the nature of Neuvillette’s work increased rather than transformed.
In the end, it was Furina who broke the silence.
“Tell me, Neuvillette, how is everyone?”
Neuvillette paused before answering. Somehow, it felt like any other day where the two of them discussed recent trials of interest to her. Back then, he thought that she really was only interested in things that were theatrical and entertaining. But since the truth came to light, he now guessed that she was simply preoccupied with keeping up her facade, maintaining what was established by her predecessor, investigating the prophecy in secret, and still making sure to oversee the more complicated cases… everything she was doing alone.
It was evident to him now that Furina cared about her people more than anyone else. When she said “everyone”, she really meant all the people of Fontaine. Because every single life in this land mattered to her. She would not have suffered to save them otherwise.
Neuvillette put the file down and recalled to her the work he’d been doing since her resignation. Like in court, he spoke straight to the point but included all the necessary details. His voice was even, soothing, and helped tame her throbbing migraine into a dull ache.
Throughout his summary, Furina made no comments, though–and he would never be able to guess how–Neuvillette could feel her reactions even without looking at her; he heard every small intake of breath, every sigh of relief, all that further convinced him that her dedication to her people was timeless and unconditional, not even fading though her duty had been more than fulfilled.
At the end of it, Furina said only one thing.
“Ha! And I imagine the people are in a panic right about now, searching everywhere for Monsieur Neuvillette who has abandoned his duties to take care of such trivial matters.”
“You have never been trivial to me.”
The answer slipped out before Neuvillette could think better of it. And for a moment he panicked, and a hundred of her possible responses played in his mind all at once, each more embarrassing for him than the last.
But it never came. And after a few breathless seconds, Neuvillette turned around to see Furina once again fast asleep.
Even a so-called god could treasure the simple things. Furina woke up to the sun shining gently on her face through the curtains. It was like she died and came back to life; her lethargy and weakness had suddenly vanished. She didn’t even remember falling asleep and was exceedingly pleased to realize that last night had not been filled with chills or dizzy spells.
She looked around and found that the house was cleaner, too. But it was cleaned in a way that drew no attention to the fact that it had been cleaned at all. It was obvious that things were simply put in their proper places rather than the space being upturned completely. She wouldn’t have noticed herself if she hadn’t been living there.
In front of her on the coffee table sat her scripts and notes where Clorinde had left them the day before. But instead of Neuvillette’s stack of case files, placed next to it was a portion of food, its warmth still barely lingering, and the box of pastries Clorinde had brought her.
Something caught her attention–a piece of paper peeking out from under the couch as if forgotten. She knelt to pick it up and once again found that the Hydro Sovereign had no shortage of surprises for her indeed.
It was filled to the edges with two different penmanships, one she recognized as Neuvillette’s, and the other more unfamiliar, though the small drawing at the corner which served as a signature told her that it was undoubtedly Sigewinne.
It seemed that she sent him a note with a numbered list, and Neuvillete made use of the spaces between them.
1. Food: something warm! ✓
Consomme Purete
- Carrot (2) ✓
- Egg (3) ✓
- Fowl (3) ✓
- Marcotte (1) ✓
2. Fever patch: change every 4 hours ✓
3. If fever persists: warm bath
Certainly not!
Under the list was a detailed step-by-step procedure on how to make Sigewinne’s ‘Special Get-Well Milkshake!’ which Neuvillette crossed out completely.
Seriously….
“Never trivial, am I?”
Furina clutched at the warmth in her chest as she held the note, then tucked it away securely in her notebook. Never mind fevers. She had much, much bigger problems to deal with now.