Archive of Our Own

What defines love?

It’s a question, one of many, that passed through Neuvillette’s thoughts throughout the years. There were many questions he asked, and many more he probably will continue to ask.

Love, Neuvillette finds, was such a strangely human word. There were emotions all-encompassing, like rage or sorrow or joy. Those things, Neuvillette understood, even from his past life, when he was not bound to a fragile body. But love?

Over the years, Neuvillette saw humans do many things in the name of love. Humans, in all their finiteness, did everything they could in the name of love, of themselves or others.

Humans can kill for people they love. He heard stories of omegas who murder alphas to be with the ones they love. Or alphas killing betas for the same reason. People of all genders, man or woman, alpha, beta, or omega lied and cheated and stole for things they love, or for the love they possessed for themselves.

Neuvillette even bore witness to alphas who took others by force, and shamefully reasoned such things as love. Acts such as that truly, deeply disgusted him.

Could such a thing really be considered ‘love’?

But human expressions of love were also great in good ways. He has seen countless people sacrifice their livelihoods, their time, their most prized and cherished things, all for the sake of love.

People who prayed fervently to the Hydro Archon and to the Fountain of Lucine to have children. Great friends who protected each other on and off the battlefield. Strangers who would run after robbers to retrieve stolen items.

Such things were also so human, so strange, so powerful. 

Regretfully, humans also chose to die because of love. Neuvillette remembered one man, who chose to stand in the centre of the duelist’s ring. A man who looked at death, and in his stubbornness, said nothing and did nothing even with the glint of silver steel against the light and into his heart.

He still remembered the screaming. The terrible, haunting sound of a young blonde girl wailing for her Papa, as two older men held her back. Her tears dripped into the stands, and into the cracks of Neuvillette’s heart.

How strange love is. To be so indecisive. So finite and so cruel.

How confusing it was. Neuvillette could never understand such feelings. They whirled and washed over him in endless waves. Pain. Grief. Fondness. Fear. Empathy. Gratitude.

Love. What a feeling it was.

He couldn’t understand it.

—

Neuvillette remembered an omega boy who once bore the brand of a killer, and wore no shame from it. Most people smelled the copper tang of blood and the faint scent of alpha who defiled him. They saw a terrifying creature, with red on his hands and black in his heart.

But not Neuvillette. Instead, he recalled the boy who’s scent was clouded by something sickly. More than that, the lingering bitterness of something sad.

The boy had a cut under his eye, and dry, cracked lips. He looked tired. But his mouth was set in a thin line, and his gray eyes took in every word, every sound, a sharp knife on the kitchen table.

It was strange, too, but there were moments where Neuvillette wore he could smell something else, hidden by the copper and the sickness. The scent of tea. Black tea. Wild mint leaves sprouting from the grass. And the air on a winter solstice night.

How lovely.

How haunting.

Time and time again, Neuvillette would be… affected by cases. By humans. Four hundred years ago, it was the death of a dear friend and Melusine, and a trustworthy subordinate’s revenge. And now, it was a tired omega with ghost eyes.

Neuvillette has had many years, witnessed many stories, but that dead, pained face haunted him.

It was a case that bothered Neuvillette greatly. An alpha and beta couple fostering omega children only to be treated and sold like livestock to hungry alphas that picked their fill. The boy, in an attempt to seek the truth, was assaulted by an alpha who partook in the black market.

The child was betrayed and hurt by people who were supposed to love him.

And so, the boy killed them.

During the trial, voice hoarse, the boy spared no details. Grimaces of disgust and horror flooded the Opera-goers as he told his story of how he sought his own justice from people who murdered and exploited many children such as himself. Neuvillette still vaguely heard the hisses and whispers of murderer and poor thing and omega killer that bounced around in the walls of the Opera D’eclase. 

However, Neuvillette paid no mind to anything the others said. He only looked at the omega boy in front of him, unable to ask the thousands of questions that crashed into him, each wave bigger than the last.

Why didn’t you come to us for help?  

Why did you go alone?

Why did you do it?

Why do you smell unwell?

Why did you throw your life away?

Why don’t you despise us for what is to come?

Why-?

“Why?”

In the end, it’s the only thing Neuvillette could muster.

Cold gray gazed over him. There were very few things human that could strike Neuvillette’s very soul, but the words the omega boy uttered never really quite left him.

“If I didn’t, Monsieur, who would?”

—

After the trial, Neuvillette did not speak for a long time.

Even when Lady Furina stalked off, eyes glistening like spring of the first dewdrops, claiming the trial was amazingly dull.

Even when the people of Fontaine jeered and criticised and questioned and cheered, appearing more like Oceanids gathering in a chorus than people.

Even when the young teenager, with sour smell of illness and suffering and black tea, passed by him, leaving a genuine whisper of thank you, and see you again soon.

In his silence, Neuvillette thought about that face, that glimpse of earnestness that hid behind smoke and mirrors. He thought about those words, and pondered about what defined justice.

Justice knew no age, no region, no Vision, no gender. There are laws. Rules to establish order. Whoever lived in a particular society lived by those rules. Otherwise systems crumble and people fall apart.

Still, the law was flawed. The omega killer case was a clear example of that. 

It filled Neuvillette’s heart with grief. To think about those terrified, helpless omega children. Where was justice in their eyes? In their final moments? And what was Neuvillette doing to save them?

He thought about justice, defined by its absence. A boy, barely on the cusp of adolescence, must have felt so strongly, so powerfully, that he’d sentence himself to a life behind metal walls. Just to set others free.

Was that not justice?

For once in his life, Neuvillette was unsure. Yes, there was justice in the eyes of the law. The boy committed a grave crime, to spill blood onto the earth. Such things were not easily forgiven.

If I didn’t, Monsieur, then who would?

Many times, Neuvillette had asked why. Many times. Neuvillette heard the answers. Smelled the choking scents of heightened emotions. Just as water carried the weight of such feelings towards him.

Many times, people say love, but deep down, he knew they meant hatred, or selfishness, or revenge. 

That omega boy could have answered the same way. He had every reason to be full of hate, or rage. At such a young age, he did not just witness but also experienced the heavy hand of injustice. He had been taken advantage of, in more ways than one.

And yet, the boy could only think of others. Of their safety, of their freedom. He answered with only others in mind, uncaring of his own fate. Bothered not by the shackles that bound his wrists, but by the ones that bound others. 

Was that not love?

—

Neuvillette sent the boy a few bottles of Mondstadt water a few days after he was sent to Meropide.

He left no name. Instead, a note, wishing the teenager well.

It was uncanny of Neuvillette. Unfitting of his role, his duties. Judges were supposed to remain impartial. Objective. Personal dealings should not have a role to play in his life.

But he thought of those cracked lips. That hoarse voice. The scent of tea left out way too long to enjoy. He wondered if the boy had enough to nourish himself, down in the Fortress.

Neuvillette hoped the boy could love himself enough to at least drink some water.

Or tea.

Something. 

—

In the months and years to come, Neuvillette heard many good changes from Meropide. Reforms such as welfare meals and recreational spaces and longer treatment times at the infirmary for the ones that needed it.

Neuvillette also heard from the berry vine that the new administrator established single heat chambers for omegas down in the Fortress. It was a minute detail in the reports. Just one of several changes to help the people there feel just a little safer.

What a madman. People in the overworld said. To care about the weak, the hungry, the omegas. What a strange and power hungry man, that new administrator, Wriothesley is.

But Neuvillette disagreed with them. What Wriothesley did could not be defined as insane, or power-driven.

Instead, he thought of humanity. Of the delightful and the depressing.

Of love.

—

Who defined love?

The law defined many things, such as filial love, in the form of adoptions and fosters and custodies. There were legal definitions of romantic love, regarding partnerships and marriages.

Stuck in a comforting and constant routine, Neuvillette’s eyes would flicker past thousands of documents. Tiny words of agreements and freshly printed words promising things like commitment and devotion by legal binding.

Once considered fair and legal under the eyes of Fontanian law, Neuvillette would stamp over every document or take a pen and slide it across in loops into some legible version of his name. It wasn’t all just trials for the Chief Justice. Sometimes, there were civil unions, and he’d bear witness to joyful unions or tense partings.

Usually though, there was paperwork.

He would read through every page, every fine line, not for the oaths forged but for the fairness of the promises made. The justness of it. After all, just because a promise was made, did not mean the things offered were fair. Neuvillette was no Geo Archon, and he preferred to keep it that way. 

But that begged the question- who defined justness when it came to such things? The law made things fair and legal. But who defined love, and all things fair?

Alphas decided power, and the law. If they decided what love was, what fairness was, then everyone else simply had to suffer.

Neuvillette was one too. 

So he rewrote some of the law. Reformed it. Returned rights and status to people who deserved it.

Deep inside, Neuvillette rather resented himself for the principle of it. For being part of the Alphas who decided what love was when he himself didn’t understand it.

—

Back when Neuvillette was first appointed Iudex, he secretly shunned humanity as much as they shunned him. Lady Focalors recommended he walk amongst humanity, but a part of him didn’t want to.

He was an outsider. A dragon in a human body. Genderless within a gendered body. A fish out of water. A Snow-winged Goose could have flown in and swam with the ducks, but no matter what would happen, it would never truly be a duck.

Neuvillette didn’t agree and would never agree with many of Fontainian beliefs. He didn’t understand why alphas had to flaunt their status, their power. He loathed to see the way alpha aristocrats would look down upon omegas, or even the genderless, such as the Melusines. 

The Chief Justice doesn’t understand , they said. He is a madman, a foreigner. How could he understand our customs? Things were fine the way they were . 

Neuvillette had to disagree with some parts. Things were not fine. There were many things wrong with Fontaine’s justice system, before he stepped in. There were things that needed respect, care. 

Love.

Fontaine was right about one thing though. He was an outsider. Nothing could really change that.

—

Perhaps it was because Neuvillette was an outsider that he was drawn to others like him.

For example, there were the Melusines. He did not have to pretend to act human, or alpha, around them. He simply could be himself, an outsider in a human form. And the Melusines still treated him as him, as Neuvillette.

Perhaps it was because Neuvillette was an outsider that he was drawn to that boy, from that case.

—

It was a few years later that Neuvillette met that boy again, down in Meropide for official business.

But by then, he wasn’t quite a teenager anymore, but a young man. A young man with responsibility and a keen eye.

“ Bonjour, Monsieur Neuvillette. I believe we have met once before?”

Neuvillette blinked. Then, he took in the sight of the handsome man in front of him. The man wore a grey suit that fit him well, a thick dark grey cloak around his broad shoulders.

Everything about him was different now. The confident air around him. The gallant stride and sturdy steps that made his presence known. The shrewd smile spread across his lips.

The scrawny, pained boy Neuvillette once judged was no more.

Neuvillette paused. No. That teenager wasn't entirely gone. He remembered that scent of illness. But more than anything, he remembered that lingering scent of black tea, of winter chill, and of wild mint.

Faintly though, Neuvillette could smell something else. It was a scent that asked

 [ do you recognize me? ]

Amidst the change.

In spite of himself, the innocence of such a question moved Neuvillette. Most people in Meropide would have glared daggers at him, or shown exorbitant amounts of distress. But not him. The omega who once thanked an alpha such as Neuvillette for putting him in prison.

“It’s nice to see you again,” said Neuvillette. “Administrator Wriothesley.”

Wriothesley laughed, and shook his head.

“Oh, please, Monsieur. Just call me Wriothesley.”

—

Sometimes, when Neuvillette flips through pages and pages of court documents and civil rights acts and years old records, he thought of alphas.

In the annals of history, alphas were always there. Usually, the wreaked havoc. They took and took and took. They became the “whos” to define the “whats” in society.

He thought of their dominance, their power. Their immediate need to take control of others. Bizarre, even, that an alpha’s words could indent in the law almost as much as their teeth could.

It made Neuvillette gaze into the mirror. He’d take in the sight of this human body- this alpha body- and contemplate if he were any different from the rest of them. Showing up out of nowhere, to bring order to people and say it’s for their own good.

In the name of justice.

Or, as the former Hydro Archon Egeria once said, in the name of love.

Thoughts like these caused Neuvillette to wrinkle his nose. A rarity indeed, for the Chief Justice to boldly wear his emotions on his face. Who were they, as alphas, to decide such things? To define them?

—

Neuvillette trusted very few people.

But he trusted Wriothesley.

The man was quiet. Sharp. Shrewd, even. Always seemed to be thinking steps ahead. He would notice every detail, but only point them out when needed.

Every so often, his eyes would always flicker to the doors behind them. Wriothesley would grow colder, then, even for only a flash of a second.

Truthfully, Neuvillette shouldn’t have trusted him. The man was a former criminal. Blood stained his hands. That deed would always run deeper than his records.

But then the omega man’s eyes would soften at the mention of the people he helped. The future projects he aimed to implement. To make sure people could repent and live their lives as changed people.

The smile Neuvillette saw was real.

It made him wonder, then, if that was what human love was. Gentle yet firm. Kind yet honest. Full of compassion. Mercy.

But who was he to define it?

—

Neuvillette wasn’t sure when the tides turned in his heart. Feelings were deep currents that ran in his heart, yes, but with all the court hearings and paperwork to be done, they were but fickle things to mind.

Then, the sight of something, encased in dark iron, clad on to the man’s breast pocket, caught Neuvillette’s attention. It’s glass sheen shone against the light in Neuvillette’s office. Icy blue light glistened from the surface, and just a hint of frost.

Neuvillette felt a warm sense of joy fill his chest. A smile graced his own face. He couldn’t help himself. Wriothesley was just as deserving of being chosen by the gods, even if Neuvillette himself did not care for them. Just as much as he was deserving of being appointed as Duke.

“Congratulations, Wriothesley,” said Neuvillette, pleased. “You have found something you wish to do at last, I see.”

He saw the way the man’s harsh gaze softened, ever so slightly. Unexpectedly, Neuvillette felt his heart flutter at the sight of that rare earnest smile.

—

Why did one love?

Sometimes, he’d think of that scent of black tea, of wild mint, of frost-glazed nights.

An itch would form in his jaw. A deep, unexplainable urge to sink his teeth into flesh.

Neuvillette instead would bury himself in his papers, self-resentment bubbling underneath. How terrible it was. To have no wings, no tail, no scales. To have a wisp of power, and still want more.

—

It was said the Iudex of Fontaine was a man with no desires.

Once upon a time, he would have agreed. Partially, at least. Neuvillette was not a man, and aside from a refreshing drink of water, he really did not seek much from the world.

He was the Iudex. Chief Justice. It was unbecoming of him to desire things, people. His objectivity was his truth. His truth his objectivity. 

But now, every time Nevillette took a sip of a beverage, he’d only smell black tea. It didn’t matter what he was drinking. Coffee, water, peppermint, oolong, jasmine. His mind would always drift. His nose would always seek that Early Grey scent.

It horrified Neuvillette, a little. To understand what he was gradually feeling. 

More importantly, though, he felt ashamed.

After all, who was he to desire? He was the Iudex. The judge of Fontaine. Desires would taint his impartiality. How could he face his role, then, as the sole judge of Fontaine?

And who was he to desire someone? Especially someone who had been taken advantage of and harmed his entire life by alphas? Neuvillette may be a dragon, but he held a dragon’s heart in a human body. An alpha one.

Neuvillette shook his head.

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t.

So he won’t.

—

A sensible thing for Neuvillette to have done was to avoid engaging in personal matters with Wriothesley. They had, after all, a professional relationship.

Unfortunately, while Neuvillette made many sensible choices in life, this was not one of them.

He liked the other man’s company. While a man of few words around most people, Wriothesley made great conversation. One minute of exchange would go by leaving Neuvillette engaged.

Then two minutes would go by… then thirty… then the business meeting would be over, and they would still be talking. Hearing Wriothesley laugh. Exchanging anecdotes about the underworld and overworld and the like.

They’d do all of this. All while holding a cup of tea in their hands, growing ever colder.

It was a waste of tea leaves. A waste of water, really. A waste of time, even. If he were to think logically of it. They were both very busy people, after all.

But Neuvillette didn’t mind.

—

Sometimes. Just sometimes, it would slip Neuvillette’s mind that Wriothesley’s secondary gender was omega.

It wasn’t the same as forgetting. One could never really forgot what something was, and Neuvillette would always be vaguely aware of that scent of black tea and Cryo chill.

But then Wriothesley wasn’t a typical omega, either. The man didn’t go bowing his neck or smelling like other alphas (or anyone other than himself for the matter). Considering how bare Wriothesley’s office was, sans tea collection, Neuvillette didn’t think he even nested.

Then Wriothesley would go and do things like cancel meetings or “request to schedule appointments according to personal health”. Sometimes, Neuvillette would catch Wriothesley trying to test his limits. The omega would end up smelling overwhelmingly of illness and tea left too long. 

Neuvillette, then, would stare and stare and remember. Even worse, he’d feel a stirring of many things.

Like concern.

Like responsibility.

Like an alpha. 

Like something he would rather not name.

Usually, Neuvillette didn’t comment when these things happened. It was rude to even ask about heat and rut cycles, unless one held a particularly intimate relationship with another. Or a medical relationship. Or were mates.

Sometimes, though, Neuvillette was tempted to be rude. To ask how he could help him feel better. To ask why Wriothesley would keep looking over his shoulder. Or at the doorway behind Neuvillette.

But he knew it wasn’t his place to ask. Wriothesley had gone through much in his past. Neuvillette still recalled every word from him as a defendant. Every terrible detail. 

Wriothesley deserved to make decisions of his own accord. To be free of his own making.

If he didn’t want an alpha, then Neuvillette shouldn’t want it either.

—

Somewhere down the line, Neuvillette knew he falling into dangerous territory.

He knew it in the way he always looked forward to their little talks. He knew it in the way his chest blossomed in warmth when he heard that laugh, saw that smile.

He liked the way Wriothesley watched in silence, always thinking two steps ahead.

He liked the way the man always thought of others, especially the weak and the vulnerable.

He even liked the way the man liked his tea overly sweet. No milk. Two sugars. 

He liked him. He knew that much.

Why did he love him?

He shouldn’t have. Wriothesley has had a criminal history on his record. He was a cunning fellow, with the wits to run the Fortress of Meropide. Under the eyes of the law, Wriothesley was the furthest thing from what humans found “loveable”.

Funny enough, to Neuvillette, the answer was simple.

He loved how Wriothesley was, in spite of everything, a good person.

—

Sometimes, it would slip Neuvillette’s mind that Wriothesley was an omega. But there were always other times that reminded Neuvillette of that unchangeable fact.

Like the pervasive smell of sickness. 

“Are you okay, Wriothesley?” He asked.

“Hm?”

It was an ordinary, busy Thursday, and he went with Wriothesley for an operations meeting at the Fortress. Neuvillette had a few meetings back to back after. He also needed to find Veleda, the sweet Melusine had left her scarf on patrol.  

He didn’t mind coming down. It was always pleasant spending time with Wriothesley.

But today, something smelled off. That sickly scent, like old furniture and empty rooms, seemed so much stronger than usual. The Administrator also looked paler than usual, wincing every so often when he thought Neuvillette wasn’t looking. 

“I…” Neuvillette looked to his companion out of concern. But he felt rude asking about it. He knew Wriothesley particularly avoided the topic of secondary genders. “Pardon me. You seemed to be uncomfortable.”

“Just a headache, Monsieur.” He doesn’t miss the next little wince that crossed Wriothesley’s face before the wave of his hand. “Dont worry about it.”

“Alright.”

And he really tried not to worry. Despite sickness, Wriothesley was a grown person. If he chose to endure the meeting of his own accord, Neuvillette could at least respect his decision.

However, the man’s sense of discomfort only appeared to grow as the meeting passed. Neuvillette saw, time and again, restless eyes flicker to whatever was behind him. Saw the man grimace and ever so slightly curl up into himself.

Saw someone he longed to protect.

Taptaptap. A knock on the door. Both men looked up to see a Garde with cropped hair and a serious expression enter the room.

“Your Honor, Your Grace, pardon the intrusion,” said the Garde. “We’ve received word from the Courts. There’s an urgent matter the Chief Justice must attend to.”

The Garde left. Neuvillette didn’t know if he should be relieved or quite disappointed that their meeting was cut short.

“Thank you for your time and for the tea,” he said, as Wriothesley walked him back to the entrance.

Neuvillette wanted the omega to stay back. To rest. He wanted to urge the man that it was okay, that Neuvillette could see him another time.

“Dont mention it,” replied the administrator. He sounded drained. “Always happy to share a kettle.”

Kettle. Tea. Suddenly, a strange itching urge bubbled up from within Neuvillette. This need to take the cups on the desk and let Wriothesley drink from it.

“Wriothesley,” he said, before he could stop himself.

When the other man looked back at him, Neuvillette wasn’t sure what to say. A sinking feeling grew in the pit of his stomach as he tried to see past the storm of emotions that swirled within his heart.

Thank you.

I’m sorry I feel so much for you.

Why do you do this to yourself?

What can I do to care for you ?

His eyes widened at the sounds of growling. The sight of bared fangs.

But more importantly, the scent.

[ Stay away ]

“Ah.” Neuvillette stepped back. He fumbled for any words, any thoughts, any reason to explain how he smelled, how he felt. “My deepest apologies. I was… concerned.”

Concerned. Neuvillette tried not to sigh from the sting of Wriothesley’s reaction. He shouldn’t be. Clearly, the omega in front of him didn’t want his concern. Didn’t need it.

“Duly noted.” Wriothesley ducked his head, and rubbed the back of his head with one arm. The scent of sickness and… shame?… wafted past. “Sorry. Didn’t mean it.”

But Wriothesley did mean it, didn’t he?

Neuvillette was an alpha. Wriothesley was someone who suffered for years under alpha legislation, alpha greed, alpha lust. Wasn’t it Neuvillette himself the reason why Wriothesley was cast away, into the depths of sea?

Truly, Neuvillette was no better than the rest. Even under the eyes of the law.

[ please ]

[ please leave ]

“Please don’t apologize.” Neuvillette shook his head, shook the scents away before he would do something insane like lose composure and scent the omega in front of him. “I did not mean to make you uncomfortable. I will take my leave now.”

And Neuvillette did. 

Even if it ate him up inside. Knowing he couldn’t really help the distressed omega he left behind. Knowing that even if he did stay behind, he wouldn’t know what to do to help.

—

A sense of foreboding crept up over Neuvillette throughout the day. It ghosted over his skin, his spine, and left all the hairs on his human body standing on end.

Something felt off. Wrong.

It wasn’t until much later when he passed by the Melusines he remembered the scarf. He hoped it wouldn’t cause Wriothesley too much trouble to hold it.

—

Neuvillette smelled it as soon as he came back.

One step into the Palais Mermonia, and he froze. Every hair on his human body stood on end, and an intense feeling of electricity ran up his skin.

Sickness. It was the bitter sour stench of sickness. But even more than that, it was the smell of black tea, of wild mint.

Of heat.

—

Neuvillette didn’t really remember running. Or talking to anyone. Everything else faded away but the sound of his heartbeat and that overpowering smell leading to his quarters.

He remembered that itching feeling in his jaws and the feeling of being swept away by the currents of his thoughts.

More than anything, he could only remember the urgent, intense need to protect.

An omega Wriothesley was sick.

An omega Wriothesley was in pain.

He needed to make sure Wriothesley was okay.

—

Neuvillette opened the closet door.

Unprepared, he was hit by a barrage of scents. A tidal wave assaulted his senses. The sight of a familiar friend curled up against his clothes, face flushed and breathing ragged. Smelling of pain, of sweat, of heat.

If the Chief Justice were a weaker man, he didn’t know what he would have done.

But Neuvillette was not weak.

“Wriothesley?” He said. Called out, so gently.

One of the omega’s eyes cracked open. Hazy gray focused on Neuvillette.

Then, the sound of screaming filled the room.

—

In all the years Neuvillette had known Wriothesley, he had never seen him scream.

Wriothesley had commanded. His voice did not need loudness to speak volumes. That was what the Administrator of the Fortress of Meropide was most known for. He was ice cold composure in the blaze of it all.

He had also never seen Wriothesley cry.

So, for Neuvillette to hear Wriothesley screaming at him, crying at him… for the first time in his very long life, Neuvillette stood, frozen in place. Helpless.

How do I help you?

“Here comes another alpha, of course it’s you,”  snarled Wriothesley. “What are you going to do, alpha? What? Going to cut me up and feed me to the dogs?”

Neuvillette flinched. His words stung.

It was rare Neuvillette didn’t know what to do. Normally, he’d move swiftly to action, reporting to the Gardes or to the Marcheusse Phantom about the incident. Wriothesley was an omega in distress and very, very sick. This heat period was not normal.

“Or let me guess, you’re gonna fuck me until I bleed?” Wriothesley continued to spit. “Gonna pin me down and do whatever you want?”

No, Wriothesley. I could never.

The omega man’s words were slurred. Gaze unfocused. On Neuvillette and at the space behind him.

“Go on, alpha . I’m a shit omega. It’s the least you can get, right?”

Wriothesley was laughing derisively. Deliriously. But there’s the trembling behind the other man’s words. The tears that brimmed over and threatened to fall. 

Neuvillette heard it all. Smelled it all. The barrage of curses and crying and messages that Wriothesley all but begged.

[ Nonononono- Don’t hurt me ]

[ Please, alpha]

[ Please don’t hurt me ]

[ I’ll die if you take me pleasepleaseplease ]

[ Help me]

[Please please please help me ]

It broke Neuvillette’s heart.

“Wriothesley,” Neuvillette tried to whisper. To plead. “How do I help you?”

How do I protect you?

He watched the way the omega’s eyes flicker fantically towards the door. His gaze was never quite in the room, always somewhere else.

He knew the details. Knew what all those children had gone through. What they’ve endured.

Fleetingly, Neuvillette imagined it. To be a small child. To be at his most vulnerable, at people’s mercy, but unable to lock the door.

To have his trust whittled away, piece after piece after piece.

Heavy weighed his heart. In wariness, Neuvillette took a few steps back and assessed. The clothes on the floor. The stench of utter pain. Fear. It wasn’t quite a nest. Wasn’t quite a sense of comfort.

He asked about it then. Why Wriothesley didn’t nest.

“Why? So you can take it away from me?”

Truly, Neuvillette asked, “But why… would I take your nest away from you?”

It killed him, then, to see the man in front of him fight back tears. Fight back tears of agony and pain and exhaustion. 

“Oh Monsieur,” the laugh that left Wriothesley’s lips sounded so fragile. Like glass. Just one small crack away from bursting into a thousand irreparable pieces. “Why indeed?”

At that moment, Neuvillette resented alphas. And most of all, resented himself for being one.

—

Neuvillette knew Wriothesley needed to nest.

But he also knew the man wouldn’t. Not with that gaze, as wild and frantic as it was, constantly shifting back to behind him. At whatever intruder might barge in through the door.

“Would it help you, Wriothesley, if I watched the door as you build your nest?”

Neuvillette almost breathed a sigh of relief, then, when Wriothesley nodded.

—

The next few days were hell.  

Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley suffered. Watched as he braved the storm of his heat. His mind. His body. Watched the door, even if his very heart screamed for him to watch over the man in pain behind him.

Neuvillette was a powerful being. The Chief Justice of Fontaine. A dragon incarnate. And yet he was so helpless . How ironic. One of the most powerful people in Fontaine, yet unable to help someone he cared about.

Someone he loved. 

Releasing a heavy sigh, Neuvillette pressed his wrists against his eyes. It dawned on him, then. Why people did the things they did, in the name of love.

Goosebumps appeared all over his skin. Neuvillette thought about the people who hurt innocent children like Wriothesley once was. The alphas that decided it was okay to take advantage of others.

And here he was, an alpha, looming over an omega in heat. Neuvillette would never want to hurt Wriothesley, absolutely not. However, there was no denying his feelings towards Wriothesley. His wanting.

Was Neuvillette, in the end, just another alpha?

He didn’t know what scared him more. The question or the answer.

—

He was in the middle of reading a book when Wriothesley finally came to. His nose caught the scent of black tea and frost, stronger than the brew he made just moments ago, in front of his desk.

“Ah. You’re awake,” said Neuvillette, carefully.

Usually he was good at talking to Wriothesley. But not now. Not like this, awkward and fumbling, the lingering stench of pain and illness seeping against the paint on the walls. The smell of the last few days’ rain and damp earth and Neuvillette’s emotions all out in the open.

“You have a big closet.”

The remark almost made Neuvillette laugh. He didn’t, though. Not with the red flush of self-awareness and embarrassment evident on the other man’s face.

He didn’t blame Wriothesley. Heats and ruts were really such private affairs. 

Instead, he smiled. “It came with the Palais Mermonia. According to the land’s customs, the Iudex needs several sets of clean robes for good presentation.”

“Well, too bad they’re all ruined now.” Wriothesley laughed ruefully. “My deepest apologies, Monsieur, for the mess.  You did not need to waste your time or space for me.”

Neuvillette tried not to frown at that comment. He never liked it when omegas tried to put themselves down in front of him. It was even worse when Wriothesley did it. 

“I do not consider your needs a waste of time. Nor do I consider your needs a waste of space.” 

And he meant every word.

It was the wrong thing to say, though. Neuvillette knew that much, with the way Wriothesley’s eyes narrowed. The way his lip curled slightly in disgust. He willed himself not to panic at the sight of the other man so upset.

How do I help you, Wriothesley?

How do I care for you?

How do I love you?

Neuvillette asked about his heat. Wriothesley answered. 

Neuvillette struggled to find something to say. Wriothesley stayed silent. 

Finally, in an effort to at least do something to help, Neuvillette offered Wriothesley some tea.

—

As he prepared the teapot and cups, Neuvillette kind of hated himself.

He hated himself for being helpless. Hated himself for living for so long yet not knowing what to do. Hated himself for not knowing if he was being a good person, loving someone people like him hurt for years.

But he can make tea. He can scoop little teaspoons of white sugar into the liquid. He could keep a calm demeanor, in spite of the storm that raged inside of him.

There were still things Neuvillette could do.

Like bring Wriothesley his tea. Like not overstep into Wriothesley’s territory. 

There were still things Neuvillette could do to respect him. To not hurt him.

But then he saw Wriothesley, lying against his robes and clothes. His heart squeezed. A deep, deep part of himself longed to break free, to snap its jaws and destroy anyone that dared harm the omega in front of him.

Neuvillette had to fight it. He had to. He was a person of the law. He wouldn’t let himself be just like the rest-

“You’re a good alpha,” said Wriothesley, softly.

Those words were Cryo-ridden. Froze Neuvillette to the spot. It took him great strength to keep his face still, to continue pouring tea.

But then he took one look at that face.

One look.

And Neuvillette was reaching out. Pressing the ceramic of that teacup against those cracked lips. Offering his heart. His feelings. His love.

Even if he didn’t understand what it meant, or how to.

He expected the shocked expression, the gasp and lurch back. It was an intimate gesture, for an alpha to feed or water an omega. It was something saved for family, or lovers. Not from friends, and definitely not from Alpha Iudices.

But Neuvillette wanted to.

For once in his long life, he wanted and wanted and wanted.

“Please, Wriothesley,” said the Chief Justice. Tiredly. Selfishly. All these years of being alive and he desired this so. “Allow me.”

“You can’t!” He felt a weak, clammy wrist wrap around his arm, sloshing over brown liquid into the saucer. “You can’t do that!”

Wriothesley’s aghast expression jabbed swords in Neuvillette’s aching heart. He wanted to weep. And the clouds listened to his tears, and followed suit.

“Why not?”

He gazed upon that tired, upset face. Smelled that choking sourness of distress and pain. And feared the worst.

“You do understand, Monsieur, that you are an alpha!” snapped Wriothesley, sounding still so exhausted and feverish. He pressed his hands against the clothes strewn around them. “You can’t just do something like this. You’re supposed to save this shit for the one you choose.”

You are an alpha. The omega’s words carried bitter truth. Neuvillette was an alpha. Nothing he could do could ever change that.

“But I have chosen, haven’t I? That’s why I’m doing this.”

He held out the saucer and cup again. In the fine China, lay drops of Neuvillette’s hope. 

Wriothesley shook his head. The man looked flabbergasted, more than anything. “I don’t understand. I don’t. You see this shit? You want to deal with that for the rest of your life? I’m a sickly omega. A criminal. Been messed up before I was sentenced. You really want that?”

I do .

I really do.

Neuvillette slowly nodded. “That, I am fine with.”

“I can’t carry children, Neuvillette. And sex is out of the question,” choked out Wriothesley, tears filling in those eyes. “Can’t have pups. Can’t mate. You really want an omega like that?”

But who defines your worth?

Why does it matter?

Why let that define you?

“An omega’s value is not based on their ability to have pups, or to service their partners sexually. They have innate values as much as any other person does.” Neuvillette willed himself to speak slowly, calmly. “Why should you be any different?

“I can’t even nest.” Wriothesley’s voice cracked.

Why does it matter?

For a moment, Neuvillette shut his eyes. Out of frustration or despair at the injustice of it all, he wasn’t sure. 

“Little by little, you can learn,” replied Neuvillette. “You can take as long as you want, Wriothesley. Besides, why should a nest matter to me? They are supposed to be for your comfort and happiness. I do not have too many clothes, but they are yours, should you want them. And if you do not want to nest, I can help you watch the door.”

Neuvillette watched as the man in front of him struggled to find words.

“I don’t understand,” repeated Wriothesley. “I don’t understand why you want me, Neuvillette. I’m not a good omega. I’m not even a good person .”

Why? He heard the unspoken questions from Wriothesley’s lips. Why me?

Neuvillette looked at the man in front of him. A man, who despite everything the law had to say, was a good person. In fondness. In despair.

Why?

Why?

“Because I love you,” said Neuvillette softly.

That’s why.

Ever so gently, he pressed the cup again towards Wriothesley’s lips. But not forcefully. Never forcefully.

 “And I believe you are a good person,” continued Neuvillette, in earnestness. “So, please, rest. Build your nest. I’ll ensure no one will hurt you.”

Wriothesley cried then. 

He cried and he cried and Neuvillette truly, honestly didn’t know what to do, where to start. There was a moment in time where he stood frozen, hand against the handle of that teacup. Should he approach? Should he not?

[ please ]

[ please stay ]

[please]

He didn’t know how humans loved, but by the heavens, he knew why they did. 

[ please love me ]

And he promised to try.

So, with gentle coaxing, Neuvillette brushed away those tears. Pressed his lips against those cheeks, that forehead, those trembling lips. The way he saw people do, in all the years he’d been alive. Out of love, out of love, out of love.

And he waited for Wriothesley to drink tea out of that cup. Of his own accord.

—

How did humans love?

Neuvillette didn’t really know the answer.

He knew humans loved deeply, loved passionately. Loved selfishly. 

But they also held the capacity to love freely. To love compassionately. To love selflessly. 

“Truthfully I don’t know,” confessed Neuvillette. “How to love someone.”

It was the day after his heat finally finished. Wriothesley stared blankly at him, the bags under his eyes as heavy as the smell of sickness that clouded him. Piles of clothes were scattered about messily across Neuvillette’s closet door. Not quite a nest, but something close.

To his surprise, Wriothesley just laughed quietly. He watched as the omega walked towards him, and pressed his face against the crook of his neck.

“If it helps, Monsieur,” he heard the man mumble. “I don’t know how either.”

Neuvillette wrapped his arms around the other man’s torso. The gentle smell of black tea and winter frost and wild mint all around. He thought about how much he wanted, and wanted, and wanted.

“Let’s figure out how, then.”

—

How do I love you?

It was a question that never really left Neuvillette’s thoughts. Not at least for the next long while.

The harsh reality was that there was no curing a sickly omega, there was only living with one. Being there for them.

It was hard, some days. Some days, Wriothesley put back up the walls of his inner fortress, and refused to let anyone enter. Neuvillette would watch Wriothesley grow so cold, he was afraid he’d never thaw out more than the surface.

Those days, Neuvillette would feel guilty. He’d look at his alpha body and wonder if he was hurting someone he loved.

Other days, though, were better. Neuvillette would patiently guard the door, and laugh quietly as his partner tossed articles of clothing around their shared space. He’d smile as Wriothesley would crawl into his arms, and remember how to purr.

Most days, he’d try to nest.

“It’s frustrating,” muttered Wriothesley, on the rare occasion he decided to air out what he was feeling. “Omegas are supposed to be good at this.”

Omegas are supposed to know how to nest.

Omegas are supposed to be good in bed.

Omegas are supposed to-

Neuvillette knew the rest of the spiel.

“You don’t have to be good at it,” said the Alpha honestly. He reached out to card his fingers through those dark locks. “You don’t have to be good at anything. You’re already a good person.”

Exasperated, Wriothesley looked back at him. “You’re the only one in the world who would call me a good anything.”

“Because you are.”

And he meant it. Every single time.

—

Slowly but surely, though, Neuvillette learned how to love him. The same way he learned how to be loved back.

It meant letting the man disappear into the Fortress for days on end. Keeping silent, keeping secrets that Neuvillette made sure not to pry because the omega didn’t want him to know. It meant trusting him to come back to Neuvillette no matter what happened, of his own accord.

It also meant time for sweeter things. Like coming home from foreign trips in Liyue, and bringing him gifts of loose leaf tea. It pleased Neuvillette to see that delighted smile pass by Wriothesley’s face, even for a moment.

Or being kissed, when Neuvillette least expected it.

Slowly, but surely, too, Wriothesley learned how to nest. It was the way Neuvillette stopped having to coax him into their room, into his nest, during his heat. Or bad days. The way he slowly let himself rest against the piles of clothing. Trusting in his nest, as messy as it was. Trusting his body to find safety in the world around him.

Trusting Neuvillette to keep watch for him.

—

Years later, in the middle of a basic nest, Wriothesley leaned in and pressed close against his alpha.

The smell of sickness still hung in the room. But stronger was the scent of black tea, and ocean breeze, and gentleness. And the feeling of warmth.

“Did you ever found out how humans love?” asked Wriothesley, almost lazily. 

Neuvillette smiled and pulled the omega close. 

“Did you ever figure out how to make a good nest?” He asked, in response.

“Ugh, Archons no.”

Neuvillette laughed softly. Lovingly so.