Work Text:
Spy in the House of Love
Plic
plic
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The rhythmic sound of water drops on the rotten pipes of the Meropid Fortress was almost soothing after all the shrill, chaotic hubbub that had accompanied his entire trial up to until the pronouncement of his sentence and down, down, down, until he was escorted to the holding cell.
The cell was impregnated with a rotten smell and unhealthy dampness, but it was nothing new for Wriothesley. He had not slept well for weeks, closing his eyes just barely, but never relaxing enough not to snap at the slightest noise. At dawn he was called to do the required duties inside the Fortress, at night he was returned to his cell like everyone else, handcuffs on his hands and wrists reddened and sore. Flayed fingernails were the norm.
So even that umpteenth night, eyes up and responsive to the sound of water dripping down from the ceiling, it was not difficult to make his gaze dart to his cellmate: a burly grown man with calloused hands and milky skin, not too tall, but decidedly hostile from day one.
He
had heard stories -nothing to frighten him, nothing would
frighten
him anymore he swore to himself- but he had heard stories of
Sinthe's clandestine dealing among the inmates and refused to be part
of it. They said that with his pout and boyish face he would pass
better at the controls. They said no one lived long enough if they
remained a lone wolf, and they said if he agreed he would have his
back if anyone tried to abuse him, the newcomer, the new toy.
"What
are you going to do?"
He
blocked the man's arm mid-air. But he did not block the next assault.
- -
Wriothesley nervously scratched his black-bandaged neck. Standing at the corner of the desk in the Palais Mermonia office, his mind had made a connection that had been closed off for a long time. The vigilant eyes of Chief Justice Neuvillette sharpened for a second before returning their attention to the file lying on the desk: "...and by dismantling other Fatui members who deliberately violated the law to infiltrate the fortress, we achieved an 8.7% decrease in the crime rate compared to previous years. Your sources, as always, were reliable."
"When would I ever lie." Wriothesley chuckled, raising his hands to emphasize the point.
As expected, Neuvillette did not respond to the easy irony but carefully rearranged the papers and gestured for the Duke to sit. "But I haven't inconvenienced you just for this. You know you are an excellent resource for your fortress. Please, have a seat." And here he paused, a moment of hesitation rarely synonymous with good news. "I need your knowledge of vulnerabilities or gaps in the security of Meropide Fortress in the years before your administration and access to confidential information for a trial I'm pushing hard on."
"Go on...?" Wriothesley absentmindedly crossed his legs but adopted a defensive stance with folded arms.
"We want to call as witnesses all those we know were involved in the organization that trafficked Sinthe over fifteen years ago."
A noticeable muscle contraction on the Duke's face was all Neuvillette needed to stop and wait for his response.
"They are in prison. For the rest of their days. I know. You know. What are you talking about?" The attitude became more brazen, but no less calculated.
"Marechaussee Phantom will not conduct an internal investigation, Wriothesley. You can relax; we both know what you did once you became Duke of the Fortress."
The Chief Judge sighed and lingered on the hardened features of the man in front of him: he knew it would be a delicate and disturbing topic.
Wriothesley dealt every day with those who had 'decorated' his body with scars over time. He couldn't imagine anything more grotesque, and yet Wriothesley probably found peace in knowing that they were in the hands of justice and that he administered their place of detention. No longer needing to kill two human beings himself because no one bothered to condemn and send them to Meropide before they hurt others.
"But I imagine that after Marcel's... Vacher's incident..." The Duke found himself saying through gritted teeth.
"Exactly. We have more material, more evidence, and knowing that Monsieur Vacher created this drug circulating even among detainees with primordial water and brought more crime rate was a missing piece. In these years, you have dismantled the Fatui and other associates trafficking in this and more within the Fortress. - And here the Chief Judge crossed his fingers and approached Wriothesley. -And now, by investigating the connections and affiliates of Monsieur Voucher, we have the chance to discover the names of those who sold it inside the prison from the outside."
"It won't be pleasant for me, but you know I won't refuse."
Wriothesley reluctantly smiled, justice was so fascinating at times.
- -
When he stopped gurgling blood on the fifth day in the infirmary, he found the strength to ask the Gardes for a sheet of paper and a dull pencil. It was difficult to write not only because he still saw double, the pencil was difficult to hold, and the Gardes kept a close eye on him to prevent accidents as if he had injured himself with three coarse lines on his neck.
He firmly grasped the pencil and calculated well how he could get the attention of the recipient without appearing a nuisance.
A calculated instinct to try to make himself heard by the only person he considered trustworthy:
- Monsieur Chief Justice Neuvilette, what others might call being a snitch, a spy would be an obvious harm to me if discovered, so I ask you to be discreet-
Neuvilette never knew about the abuses, but instead found the lanky young man becoming a consistent and strong man, marred by scars to which the Duke responded in the most imaginative ways.
- -
The trial became the case of the month, on the front page of Steambird it was hailed as the spin-off that honest citizens deserved after discovering Monsieur Vacher.
The names of the criminals brought out were the result of a complex investigative study that had continued for seven months and with the contribution of the two most renowned names in the Fontaine Court, albeit for different reasons: Chief Judge Neuvillette and Duke Wriothesley. They had probably collaborated countless times together, or so Steambird presumed, but this was one of the few times it came out in the newspaper.
How the Duke's internal documents had helped the Gardes make sense of the evidence found at Monsieur Vacher's house, how everything matched with some Northern merchants, how the testimony of some prisoners under the watchful eyes of Neuvilette and Wriothesley confirmed Vacher's diaries, the drug exchange, transactions, and code names.
But not only that.
Citizens themselves stopped eagerly to read in excitement the page number four in the crime news section, veiled with a sense of adrenaline and amazement that almost led to mass hysteria; there, printed in black on white, was the moving testimony of the Duke of Meropide Fortress who, on the occasion of the trial, had to report how more than ten years ago he had been lured to be a courier within the clandestine drug trade. He was a teenager with a double murder under his belt; they thought he was crazy, corrupted, and vengeful. Nothing could be further from the truth. In bold print, there were the words of a man of whom little was known, and what little was known was frightening: - I started a private correspondence with Neuvilette to stir the waters.
Everything couldn't remain as it was, and I wouldn't have allowed it. I was stabbed and beaten, ambushed in the shower and in the gym. But I wasn't afraid to tell the truth, nor did I ask for leniency. I have learned to believe in justice because I was part of the change.-
Many eager to read between the lines went straight to the end: -I could have taken revenge once strong enough, but prison should educate and reintegrate you, if not to return to the life of the past, at least within the Fortress. It wasn't like that in my time, but now it is."
"I made quite an impression, didn't I? Admit it, such a fascinating witness is rarely in your playroom." Wriothesley sat disheveled a week after the case closed, tea in hand, and eyes closed to savor the sweet smell and warm warmth. In a few hours, he would return to his beloved underwater pipes; the rhythmic dripping of water would accompany him in every step, even under the noisy blows with gloves in the ring.
Neuvilette was absorbed in reorganizing some files, but putting a book on top and giving it a final look, he approached the couch to speak to him.
He sat beside Wriothesley, his eyes fixed on the tea he had just prepared. The office, a temporary refuge from the brutal honesty of the court, seemed to imprison the echo of Wriothesley's words. The judge picked up the remaining cup from the table, poured the hot liquid, and waited for it to take on the right shade to be savored, but his mind wandered between the narrated scars and the cruelty that Wriothesley had experienced.
Silence spread like a dense cloud, and the judge tried to find the right words to express a range of emotions he felt towards the Duke. Neuvilette's expression softened, his gaze shifted sideways: "I owe you an apology as... a friend... because I didn't know what happened to you. What happens in the Fortress has always been a jurisdiction I'm not in charge of."
"The more you dig, the more you find the bottom, dear Neuvilette.- He took another sip of tea and opened his eyes. -For example, I got this scar fighting a Hydro dragon, it was so powerful, aqua blue, you have to believe me, and its scales then-"
At the burst of a sudden and lively laugh, Wriothesley's shoulders also jerked, he looked around because what his eyes saw was not possible.
"Oh dear, dear Wriothesley, you managed to destroy him, I assure you."