Work Text:
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Neuvillette discreetly eyes the grandfather clock in the corner of his office.
He’s late for his meeting with Wriothesley. The Duke of Meropide is surely already waiting outside of the Iudex’s office, as he’s never been late for an appointment with Neuvillette.
This is unacceptable, but it would be rude of Neuvillette to kick Count Fournier out of his office mid-explanation of his estate’s renovation, no matter how trivial it is. He is a count after all, and Neuvillette has to show the man the respect his title demands.
Their official work meeting ended about ten minutes ago, and Neuvillette is suffering through what humans call small talk. The alpha before him is prone to do this, but Neuvillette doesn’t have the patience to listen to him right now.
Especially since he is wasting Wriothesley’s precious time.
Neuvillette waits with mounting impatience for a window of opportunity. Thankfully, it comes soon. As soon as Fournier is about to bring up another subject, Neuvillette says with a tight smile; “Pardon me, Count Fournier, but I’m afraid I have to cut our meeting short. It has been a pleasure as always.”
Neuvillette expects the Count to see himself out, as always. He is taken by surprise when instead, the middle-aged man extends a hand over the desk to grab Neuvillette’s. The omega tenses under the breach of propriety, and his nose scrunches up at the sudden wave of strong pheromones coming from the alpha.
“Of course, Monsieur Neuvillette. But before I go, might I inquire if you would accompany me to the opera next week? I got the best tickets in the house and would be delighted by your esteemed company,” says the alpha with a charming smile.
Neuvillette bristles, and he barely keeps his scent in check before it can sour.
Another alpha trying to court him. He’s the third one this week. And last week, all hell broke loose in Palais Mermonia when an alpha going into rut had tried to barge into Neuvillette’s office to claim him as his mate.
Neuvillette loathes his very nature as omega in situations like this. How it gives all these insufferable alphas the right to look down upon him and act so boorishly. After all, omegas are beneath alphas in the hierarchy. Their very nature demands they submit to them.
Neuvillette forces himself to stay calm as he says; “I am touched by your offer, Count Fournier, but I must decline.”
Fournier’s scent becomes slightly bitter, and it turns Neuvillette’s stomach. He winces when the Count tightens his grip on his hand.
Fournier’s smile turns almost predatory. “Come now, Monsieur. You keep denying my earnest requests so easily. I’m sure you are aware that I would have much to offer you.”
Neuvillette narrows his eyes in displeasure as he yanks his hand away. “And I am stating clearly that I am not interested in what you have to offer. This meeting is over. Please leave or I will have you removed from the premises,” says the Chief Justice in a firm tone.
Fournier’s pretense of amiability melts away at once. He bares his teeth angrily, and his pheromones become so domineering that they suffocate Neuvillette. He recoils, his hand covering his nose as nausea takes him.
Fournier stands up and begins to round the desk to reach Neuvillette as he snarls; “Who do you take yourself for, showing disrespect to an alpha? A lowly, unmated omega like you. You should know your place, Neuvillette.”
Neuvillette scrambles out of his chair and steps back, putting distance between himself and the advancing alpha. His nature as omega makes him tremble with anxiety, makes him want to cower in the face of a menacing, dominating alpha, to submit to him, while his nature as dragon sovereign is roaring at him to sink his teeth into the man’s flesh and tear his throat out. How dare he treat him like this?!
Neuvillette doesn’t have time to discover which of his dual nature would overpower the other; the doors to his office burst open, and Wriothesley furiously strides towards them with two gardes in tow.
Fournier freezes, eyes going wide at the sight of Wriothesley advancing on him. Neuvillette can smell Wriothesley’s overpowering scent; the usual pleasant fragrance of bergamot and earl grey tea turned frigid like a winter’s night, screaming danger.
Neuvillette steps away hastily, not wanting to be stuck between the two agitated alphas.
Fournier instinctively snarls at Wriothesley, but the latter is not undone by it. Wriothesley grabs hold of the Count’s collar and yanks him forward. Neuvillette has never seen Wriothesley looking so mad before.
“I think someone’s going to have a nice stay in the fortress of Meropide with me. You should know, Count, that it’s against the law for alphas to force themselves on omegas,” seethes the Duke of Meropide.
All color drains from the Count’s face. Before he could say anything for his defense, Wriothesley drags him away from Neuvillette’s desk, throwing him to the gardes who promptly put handcuffs on him.
“Take him away. I’ll deal with him personally,” says Wriothesley with a malicious smile.
The gardes nod and drag Count Fournier away, ignoring his protests and the curses thrown Wriothesley’s way.
As soon as he is alone with Neuvillette, Wriothesley hastily joins him, his anger fading away to be replaced by worry. His hand hovers hesitantly near the Iudex, who is still hunched over with a hand over his nose.
“Are you okay, Monsieur Neuvillette?” he asks. Wriothesley forces his scent to regain its familiar, pleasant nature, and Neuvillette instantly relaxes.
Neuvillette’s smile is a bit shaky as he straightens up. “Yes. Thank you for coming in when you did.”
Neuvillette doesn’t think he needs protection; He is a dragon sovereign, after all. But having Wriothesley barge in his office and show his dominance over that vile alpha pleases his omega nature immensely.
It doesn’t shock him. Neuvillette has always reacted positively to one alpha only.
Wriothesley.
He’s the only one whose scent could never revolt Neuvillette - quite the contrary, Neuvillette has never smelt anything more pleasant - and whose touch and presence the omega sought above anyone else’s.
Wriothesley’s nose scrunches in displeasure as he looks towards the doors of the office.
“I could smell his disgusting pheromones from outside your office. That bastard won’t be trying this again, I promise you,” says Wriothesley as he turns his attention back on Neuvillette.
His gaze softens as he looks at Neuvillette. Wriothesley’s eyes hold so much warmth that it flusters Neuvillette. He clears his throat and gestures for the Duke to sit on the couch, where they usually have their meetings.
“Hopefully it will serve as a deterrent for other alphas wanting to try their luck,” says Neuvillette as he follows Wriothesley to the couch.
Wriothesley makes himself at ease on his couch as usual, and Neuvillette sits by his side, almost close enough for their thighs to touch. Neuvillette did it unconsciously, but now that he’s aware, he’s loath to move away. Wriothesley doesn’t seem to mind it, so Neuvillette doesn’t see a reason to do so.
This close, Wriothesley’s familiar, delightful scent invades his nose, making his omega instincts preen in satisfaction.
“There’s been that many?” asks Wriothesley as he drops the stack of documents he had been carrying on the tea table, snapping Neuvillette out of his trance.
Neuvillette sighs and crosses one leg over the other, resting his hands primly over his knee. “I’m afraid so. Lady Furina is urging me to find a mate to put an end to these attempts,” reveals the Iudex, a hint of frustration in his voice.
There’s a sudden change in Wriothesley’s scent. It gains a sour note, but it goes so quickly back to normal that Neuvillette thinks he might have imagined it.
“...Are you considering it?” asks Wriothesley after a beat of silence, finding Neuvillette’s gaze.
For some reason, Neuvillette finds himself unable to hold Wriothesley’s gaze as he answers truthfully; “I have no desire to bond myself to someone I hold no love towards. But our Archon is becoming more and more insistent on the matter.”
Wriothesley averts his eyes, and this time Neuvillette is confident that he picks up on the Duke’s scent spiking with displeasure.
Wriothesley doesn’t like it, but Neuvillette fails to understand why.
The alpha’s expression is undecipherable as he speaks quietly; “Ultimately it should be your choice, and yours alone.”
Neuvillette smiles sadly. “If only that were so,” he whispers wistfully. Neuvillette is Fontaine’s servant. He has a duty towards the nation, a duty that he must complete efficiently. If all these attempts at mating him get in the way of his duty, then Furina has the right to ask him to put a stop to it.
Wriothesley doesn’t answer, but his eyes seem to darken. The silence between them is thick, charged with something unspoken that Neuvillette cannot decipher.
He decides not to linger on it. Wriothesley is here for a work meeting after all, and his time has been wasted enough already.
“Ah, where are my manners? Wait for just a moment, I will ask Sedene to bring us some tea for our meeting,” says Neuvillette as he rises from the couch, making his way towards the doors of his office.
He misses the pained look full of longing that accompanies him out of his office.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Wriothesley is so focused on his paperwork that he doesn’t hear Sigewinne enter his office. He startles, almost dropping his pen when a tray holding two plates of steaming food is dropped on his desk.
The warden lifts his head from his papers just in time to see Sigewinne hop into the chair in front of his desk. Knowing he would not be able to do any more work before he eats his dinner - Sigewinne is very adamant that he takes his breaks on time - he pushes his paperwork aside in favor of the food his head nurse has brought him.
He digs in with a thank you to Sigewinne, and they chat about mundane things for a while as they eat, until the Melusine’s eyes land onto an unopened letter sitting on one corner of the Duke’s desk.
“You haven’t opened your invitation, Your Grace,” points Sigewinne out.
Wriothesley lifts an eyebrow. How does she know what the letter contains? Wriothesley knows because of the seal on the envelope, but he didn’t think his head nurse would recognize it, isolated as she is from the outside world. The Melusines’ information network is truly terrifying to witness sometimes.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not going,” says Wriothesley.
Sigewinne frowns. “Seriously? Why?”
Wriothesley sighs. “Because I loathe these events. It’s nothing but empty small talk and pompous aristocrats blowing smoke up each other’s asses,” he says bluntly.
Sigewinne throws him a deadpan look. “Language,” she chastises.
“Sorry, Sige,” replies Wriothesley in a tone that says anything but.
Wriothesley receives about half a dozen invitations to balls or other formal events every year, and he rarely goes. He doesn’t see the point in going. He hates it, and the other nobles hate his guts also. Him not going is a win-win situation.
Wriothesley expects the conversation to turn to something else but Sigewinne isn’t done. She tries and fails to look casual as she says next; “Monsieur Neuvillette is going to be there.”
The Duke freezes and throws a long look at Sigewinne. He doesn’t quite know what she’s getting at by mentioning Neuvillette, but he has a feeling that he’ll know soon enough.
“I’m aware,” he says slowly with a raised eyebrow.
Sigewinne scrapes the bottom of her plate with her fork and says casually without looking at Wriothesley; “He probably hates these events as much as you do, knowing him. I don’t blame him either, will all of these alphas vying for his attention.”
Wriothesley’s grip on his own fork tightens so much that it’s a miracle he doesn’t bend it. Oh, he knows that all too much. He doesn’t need Sigewinne to remind him. Apart from having no desire to blend in with a bunch of snakes, this is the major reason why he hates going to these formal events.
Seeing all the unmated alphas looking at Neuvillette like he is a juicy piece of meat always makes his blood boil.
The only consolation for the whole affair is that Neuvillette seems to have no interest in becoming anyone’s mate.
Until recently, that is. Their last conversation is never far from Wriothesley’s mind. Just the thought of another man eventually laying claim to Neuvillette, the omega Wriothesley has been infatuated with for years now, fills him with bitter jealousy.
If Sigewinne notices the sudden sour note in Wriothesley’s scent, she doesn’t mention it. She gathers her empty plate and utensils and jumps down from the chair.
Wriothesley thinks she will leave him to wallow in his own misery, but she has more words to impart him before she does.
“If only he could have some kind of deterrent to keep all of his suitors at bay,” says the Melusine, followed by a dramatic sigh as she walks towards the stairs.
Wriothesley just knew she had a point to make by bringing up Neuvillette, that sneaky little thing. He sighs in turn. “What are you trying to say, Sige?” In all honesty, he knows what she’s getting at, but he wants to hear her say it.
That’s easier said than done. Sigewinne turns to look at him with a mysterious smile on her lips. “Nothing at all!”
Wriothesley throws her another unimpressed look. “Huh huh.”
Sigewinne giggles and goes downstairs. Just before she leaves Wriothesley’s office, she exclaims loud enough for him to hear; “Oh, since you’ll stay down here with me tomorrow evening, you can try my new milkshake recipe! See you tomorrow, Your Grace!”
Wriothesley curses, the sound drowned by the doors opening and closing. He rubs his temple, his gaze sliding to the unopened invitation.
Maybe he should go after all. Drinking Sigewinne’s milkshake will be even worse than seeing all those alphas coveting the Chief Justice.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Wriothesley pulls on his tie, properly tied for once, feeling like he is suffocating. He’s barely been loitering around the grand ballroom in Palais Mermonia for two minutes that already he feels like going home.
His eyes scan around the crowd of nobles, searching for familiar faces, and specifically for long silver hair or a flash of lavender eyes.
Wriothesley spots Clorinde standing by the grand windows, dressed in her usual attire. He follows her gaze and unsurprisingly, finds it glued to the pretty head of the Spina di Rosula currently dancing with a marquis.
He shakes his head with amusement. Clorinde couldn’t be more obvious if she wanted.
Furina is easy to spot; she wears the most extravagant dress as always, and she’s swarmed with rats trying to earn her favor.
It doesn’t take Wriothesley too long to find Neuvillette. The omega is standing away from the center of the ballroom where people are dancing, and he’s also surrounded by a group of nobles. His smile is tight, and it’s clear to Wriothesley’s keen eyes that he wants nothing more than to escape his predicament.
Especially since there are two unmated alphas in the bunch, the eldest sons of a baron Wriothesley knows vaguely. The Duke’s mood instantly sours upon seeing how they are fawning over Neuvillette, fighting to get his attention.
“If only he could have some kind of deterrent to keep all of his suitors at bay”
Sigewinne’s words echo in his head, prompting him to make his way towards Neuvillette. Wriothesley ignores the few attempts to get his attention, focused solely on his mission to rescue Neuvillette from these alphas and their unwanted advances.
Wriothesley is only a few feet away when Neuvillette notices him. His eyes grow wider as he stares at the Duke, and it prompts the nobles swarming him to turn their heads towards Wriothesley.
“Your Grace! I did not expect to see you tonight,” says Neuvillette as Wriothesley stops in front of him.
The Duke’s nose is instantly graced with the sweet scent of Petrichor and Romaritime flowers. Neuvillette’s scent. It’s so enticing to him, and Wriothesley always has trouble to rein his instincts in and not press his nose into the omega’s neck to scent him.
Wriothesley ignores everyone else, keeping his eyes trained on the only one that matters to him. He smiles charmingly at Neuvillette. “I had some unexpected free time, so I decided to show my face for once.”
Neuvillette smiles back, though it’s more reserved than what Wriothesley is used to when they are alone. He’s not surprised, considering their audience.
An audience who, judging by the souring scents of the two alphas, is not happy by his sudden interruption. They will like what comes next even less.
“It’s a pleasure to see you, Your Grace,” says Neuvillette with a slight bow.
With his heart beating fast in his chest, Wriothesley puts his left hand behind his back and bows slightly, offering his right palm to Neuvillette.
“Would you grant me the honor of a dance, Chief Justice?” asks Wriothesley.
A beautiful rosy flush spreads across Neuvillette’s cheeks as he looks down upon Wriothesley’s hand. The people around them seem shocked by the sudden request. Everyone knows that Neuvillette declines every request for dances, and thus has stopped trying.
Truth be told, Wriothesley is expecting to be rejected as well.
He is surprised when Neuvillette places his smaller hand in Wriothesley’s, a shy smile stretching his lips.
“It would be my pleasure,” says the omega.
Wriothesley can’t believe his luck. He feels a bit nervous as he gently pulls Neuvillette away from the group of nobles and towards the dance floor.
He sees from the corner of his eyes how displeased and offended they are by Wriothesley taking Neuvillette from them, but the Duke doesn’t care how rude he’s being. He’s never cared much about what they think of him.
Only Neuvillette’s opinion matters to him.
He cares even less when he is the one having the privilege of holding Neuvillette’s gloved hand in his own, about to dance a waltz with him.
Wriothesley laces their fingers together and wraps an arm around Neuvillette’s small waist to boldly bring him closer.
Neuvillette is staring at him in something akin to wonder as he places his free hand on Wriothesley’s shoulder, letting the Duke take the lead as they begin to dance in step with the music.
Wriothesley is keenly aware of the countless jealous gazes on them, as well as the whispers that follow. He tightens his hold around Neuvillette’s waist, his nature as an alpha gleeful that he’s the one Neuvillette chose over all others for his first public dance.
The Duke focuses his gaze on Neuvillette’s face. That soft blush is still visible, and right now Neuvillette looks lovelier than ever before.
“I’m surprised that you accepted, Monsieur Neuvillette. You never dance with anyone,” says Wriothesley as he quickens the pace of his feet, following along the increased tempo of the waltz.
Neuvillette easily follows, which tells Wriothesley that he doesn’t refuse dance partners because of an inability to dance.
“I find that there is not much I would deny you, Your Grace,” admits Neuvillette quietly as his gaze drops to the Duke’s neck.
Wriothesley is taken aback by Neuvillette’s words. He has to keep a tight control over his nature as it preens possessively at the admittance that he’s special in some capacity to Neuvillette. Wriothesley’s fangs itch as his hind brain wants to sink them in the omega’s scent gland, claiming him in front of Fontaine’s entire nobility.
Thankfully he’s good at ignoring his instincts.
He leans a bit closer and whispers as his heart races; “Those are dangerous words, Your Honor. What if I request something you are loath to give up?”
Wriothesley spins Neuvillette away before he can answer, and he skillfully catches him in his arms, holding him closer than before.
Their breaths mingle, and Neuvillette’s gorgeous eyes stare unblinkingly into his own.
“There is only one way to find out,” replies Neuvillette softly.
Ask for it.
Oh, does Wriothesley want to ask Neuvillette to be his. His to cherish, his to love, his to claim as his mate. But the words get stuck in his throat as he is all too aware of their current audience.
After the ball, he’ll try to find the courage to pour his heart out to Neuvillette.
Wriothesley chooses to say something else he’s been dying to say since he arrived, something that is a bit less dangerous; “You look gorgeous tonight, Monsieur. More so than usual.”
Neuvillette’s hair is braided and pulled up behind his head, secured with a beautiful flowery hairpin. Some strands hang loose around his face. He is wearing an elegant three piece suit that accentuates his small waist, white with blue accents. He truly looks lovely.
Neuvillette’s eyes sparkle beautifully in response to the compliment. He smiles shyly. “Thank you, Your Grace. You look very handsome yourself, and it is a delight to be dancing with you.”
Wriothesley doesn’t think he looks anything special - his hair refused to tame itself as always, and he put on an old suit that he hasn’t worn in ages - but he welcomes the compliment from his beloved Iudex.
Neuvillette’s scent is sweeter than ever this close, and Wriothesley almost feels drunk on it. A lesser man would succumb to the sweet temptation in his arms. But Wriothesley has always been a master of self-control, which is a blessing considering his nature as alpha.
“You flatter me, Monsieur. I am the one who is privileged to be dancing with you,” says Wriothesley, completely enamored by his dance partner.
Neuvillette doesn’t answer, but his scent grows more potent as he smiles. Wriothesley lets himself bask in the honeyed fragrance as they finish their dance. It ends too quickly for his taste. Wriothesley wants to keep Neuvillette by his side for the rest of the evening. Thankfully, it seems like the Iudex has no intention of going anywhere even when other nobles swarm him.
Seeing Neuvillette dance with Wriothesley, several people try their luck, but the Iudex politely declines every time. It fills Wriothesley with pride, and he repays Neuvillette by making sure to ward off any attempts at courting from unruly alphas.
While Wriothesley still hates being out here among all these aristocrats, Neuvillette’s constant presence by his side is making it tolerable. He enjoys the few moments they are left alone, when he can be the center of Neuvillette’s attention. The conversation always flows so easily between them, and Wriothesley loves Neuvillette’s honest and gentle nature.
As the ball goes on, Wriothesley only leaves the Iudex’s side once to fetch them drinks from the refreshments table. He’s in the midst of pouring a glass of water for Neuvillette when he hears two young noblewomen whispering not far from him. He has a keen hearing, so he still hears them easily.
“They would make a great couple wouldn’t they?”
“I agree. Marquis Deschamps would make a much better choice than that boorish duke.”
Wriothesley frowns. He has a feeling who the boorish duke in question is. Then that would mean they are also talking about Neuvillette. A great couple? With who?
The Duke turns around to search for Neuvillette. And when he spots him, his heart drops.
The young Marquis Deschamps is indeed by his side, taking advantage of Wriothesley leaving the Iudex’s side to approach him. And as much as Wriothesley wants to hate the guy, he knows Deschamps to be honest, hardworking and quite humble. Very handsome as well.
And to make things worse, he’s an alpha.
Neuvillette is talking animatedly with him, and he doesn’t seem uncomfortable at all. He is even smiling at whatever Deschamps is telling him.
Wriothesley feels the embers of jealousy festering in his heart. His hind brain wants him to storm over and show Deschamps who Neuvillette belongs to. His instincts are so on edge that Wriothesley almost does just that, but he manages to quell the urge in the end.
If he did that, if he used his pheromones and status to drive the noble away, he would be no better than the other alphas lusting after Neuvillette.
Neuvillette doesn’t belong to him. And even if he did, he had the right to have a conversation with anyone of his choosing.
However, Wriothesley’s reasoning doesn’t quell the jealousy eating him up from the inside the longer he watches the interaction between Neuvillette and Deschamps.
How he wishes that Neuvillette was his mate. Wriothesley wouldn’t have to live with the fear that someone would snatch him from under his nose.
But he isn’t. And Wriothesley refuses to act like the boorish alpha people think he is and fight for dominance over the other alphas. He’s better than that.
Neuvillette laughs at something Deschamps says, and the jealousy Wriothesley feels becomes unbearable. He can’t watch this any longer. He knew coming here was a bad idea.
Wriothesley leaves the refreshment’s table, and he quickly traverses the ballroom without another glance at Neuvillette or anyone else. Blood pounds in his ears, and he cannot hear if anyone calls out to him. Not that it matters. Wriothesley has no intention to put a stop to his hasty retreat.
As soon as he makes it out of the ballroom, Wriothesley feels like he can breathe properly again. He debates upon taking a breather and going back in, but then the image of Neuvillette with Deschamps assaults his mind again, holding his heart in a painful vice.
He should go back to Meropide where he can wallow in his misery.
Wriothesley’s steps echo in the empty hallway as he walks towards the exit of Palais Mermonia.
However, he doesn’t make it far before he hears the clicking sound of heeled shoes hurrying towards him.
“Wriothesley!”
The Duke would recognize that smooth, deep voice everywhere. He stops in his tracks, and despite his better judgment, he turns around to face Neuvillette who comes to a stop a few feet from him.
“Monsieur,” says Wriothesley, keeping his tone neutral despite the nasty emotions tearing him apart inside.
Neuvillette looks concerned, and Wriothesley hates that he’s the cause of it.
“Are you leaving so soon?” asks Neuvillette.
Wriothesley forces a smile on his lips, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Duty calls. Besides, you are in good company now. I doubt my presence will be missed.”
It sounds petty even to his own ears. He regrets saying it, but it’s too late to take it back.
“What are you talking about?” asks Neuvillette with a frown.
Wriothesley sounds more bitter than he’d like when he speaks; “Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you later. You shouldn’t make Marquis Deschamps wait.”
He turns around to leave, but a hand tightly gripping his wrist stops him in his tracks. Neuvillette comes around to face him, blocking his path. Distress is plain to see on his face, and Wriothesley feels like shit for causing it.
“I do not understand what is happening. Please stay and explain it to me,” pleads Neuvillette, his gorgeous eyes shining with concern.
Wriothesley can’t lie to him. He’s tired of keeping the truth of his feelings locked away in fear of rejection. He knows it’s only a matter of time before they come to light, as it becomes more and more difficult for him to keep them in check with each new attempt from alphas to steal Neuvillette away.
Wriothesley steps closer to Neuvillette, until there is but a few inches between them. He looks down at the omega and brings a shaking hand up to cup his face. He hears the quiet gasp that escapes Neuvillette’s lips, and he feels him tense beneath his touch.
The alpha whispers past the lump in his throat; “Neuvillette, if I stay, I’ll want to make you mine in front of all these people, to keep them away from you. I’ve wanted you for too long now. Don’t ask me to stay and watch as other alphas lust after you. I can’t.”
Neuvillette’s eyes widen, and so many emotions swirl in those gorgeous irises, and Wriothesley can’t begin to decipher them.
He doesn’t know if his heart can afford the rejection right now. He thought he could take it, but he was wrong.
Wriothesley isn’t proud of what he does next.
His hand falls away from Neuvillette’s cheek and he swiftly walks past him, taking advantage of the omega’s stunned state.
He hears Neuvillette’s frantic call of his name, but he ignores it.
Wriothesley feels like a coward. He can face the strongest foe in battle without a single thought, but he cannot face the heartbreak that is inevitable.
Neuvillette was never meant to be his.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Wriothesley frowns, lifting his bleary eyes from the papers scattered on his desk when he hears the sound of urgent knocking against the doors of his office.
He looks at the clock sitting in one corner of his office. It's almost midnight. Who is disturbing him at this hour? Hopefully there's no emergency for him to deal with. He's still agonizing over his half-assed confession to the Iudex a few hours ago. He doesn't have the mindset nor the energy to deal with trouble at the moment.
Still, Wriothesley can't ignore whoever is at his door.
With a groan, he stands up from his chair and walks downstairs, uncaring of his unkept appearance. He is still wearing the slacks and undershirt from the ball, unbuttoned almost halfway down his chest.
Wriothesley opens the doors, expecting to see one of the guards. He is surprised when instead he finds none other than the Chief Justice standing in front of him.
“Neuvillette? What are you doing here?” asks Wriothesley, his concern overriding the embarrassment he feels about how their last encounter went.
Neuvillette looks distressed. He says quietly, so as to not be heard by the two guards standing nearby; “I could not leave things unsaid. You did not give me time to process what you told me and respond. I wish to do so now. Are you going to let me in?”
“Of course. I too could never refuse you anything,” says Wriothesley wistfully as he moves aside, letting Neuvillette into his office and closing the doors behind him.
Neuvillette thanks him quietly, and he silently follows Wriothesley up the stairs. The latter tries not to show how nervous he feels, wondering what Neuvillette’s response will be. There’s no running away from it now.
The alpha goes to his desk and leans against it, folding his arms over his chest. He breaks the tense silence as Neuvillette walks towards him; “Would you like some tea? Or I might still have a bottle of that imported water you -”
Wriothesley cuts himself off when Neuvillette crowds his space, and he feels the delicate press of soft lips against his cheek.
His eyes widen in surprise as he stares at Neuvillette when he pulls back. The omega's cheeks are painted a lovely shade of pink, but he doesn't seem shy about what he just did.
“Neuvillette…?” breathes Wriothesley, shocked by the omega’s gesture.
His shock deepens when Neuvillette’s scent becomes more sweet and syrupy, as if beckoning to him.
“Apologies if I was too forward, but I find it difficult to express my feelings accurately with words,” says Neuvillette.
Wriothesley's heart hammers in his chest. “Your feelings?”
Neuvillette steps forward again, and he is so close that Wriothesley can count every individual speck in his gorgeous eyes. The alpha is so hypnotized by the pretty sight that he almost misses Neuvillette's quiet words, uttered in the most vulnerable tone; “I do not care about Marquis Deschamps or any other alphas, Wriothesley. I realize now that I have fancied you for a long time. I just… I do not know if I am allowed to want you. While everyone seems to think that I should take a mate, I fear that an entanglement with you will open me up to questions about my impartiality, given my personal involvement with your title of Duke.”
Wriothesley can see in Neuvillette's expression how torn he is about his feelings.
I have fancied you for a long time.
As much as those words fill Wriothesley with joy, he understands Neuvillette's hesitation, and he would never want to cause Neuvillette distress or pain.
Wriothesley reaches over to tuck a strand of silver hair behind Neuvillette's ear. His heart skips a beat at how the omega's long lashes flutter under the tender gesture, and how he subtly leans into the alpha’s touch.
“Neuvillette… I’ll understand if you prefer to keep things as they are between us,” says Wriothesley despite how painful it is to accept a reality where Neuvillette would never be his.
Still, he would prefer to be in Neuvillette's life in any way he can rather than lose him completely.
Neuvillette places his palm over Wriothesley's hammering chest. “But I do not wish for them to stay this way,” admits the Iudex.
“Neuvi...” Wriothesley covers Neuvillette's hand, squeezing it softly.
“While I am scared of what might result of it, I do not want to ignore what I feel towards you,” says Neuvillette with yearning as he stares directly in Wriothesley's eyes.
Wriothesley almost can't believe what he hears. Here is the sweetest omega, the one he’s loved from afar for far too long telling him he yearns for him too. That he wants Wriothesley just as much.
The Duke finally succumbs to the desire festering in his heart for too long.
His free hand cards in Neuvillette's hair at the base of his neck, and he leans in to finally claim the omega's lips in the sweetest of kisses.
Neuvillette exhales shakily against his lips, and he presses himself close to Wriothesley as if he wants to melt into him. The alpha savors the taste of his beloved's lips as he wraps an arm around his small waist, finally allowed to touch him like he dreamed to for so long.
And Neuvillette allows it. His scent sweetens even more, making Wriothesley dizzy and needing more. Still, he keeps the kiss chaste and sweet, content to learn the taste and feel of Neuvillette's soft lips.
Kissing Neuvillette feels heavenly. Wriothesley could die a happy man right now.
When they have to break apart to breathe, the alpha tenderly presses their foreheads together. Neuvillette clings to him, and his eyes are closed in a blissed expression. Wriothesley's fingers tighten, pressing a bit more possessively into the omega's waist, and Neuvillette's eyes finally slide open.
“Stay here tonight. It's pretty late for you to make the trek back to the Court of Fontaine,” offers Wriothesley.
He sees the hesitation in Neuvillette's expression. Wriothesley quickly goes on to add; “I'm not expecting sex. Just sleep. And if you don't feel comfortable with sharing a bed just yet, I can sleep on the couch.”
Neuvillette smiles fondly, and the sight melts Wriothesley's heart. The omega wraps his arms around the alpha's neck and gives him a quick peck.
“I would love to fall asleep in your arms, my sweet Duke,” says Neuvillette.
Wriothesley chuckles happily. “That I can certainly do.”
He kisses Neuvillette again and again, until they are both breathless from it. And when they get their fill of each other's lips, they fall into bed together, with Wriothesley holding his precious Neuvillette in his arms as promised.
He's not proud of the jealousy he showed earlier, but he doesn't quite regret it. Not when it brought him here, about to fall asleep with his beloved omega in his arms.
The fact that they aren't bonded yet doesn't matter. He knows in his heart that Neuvillette is his now, as much as he is Neuvillette's.
The rest can wait.
· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·
Extra
Neuvillette is sitting in his office, enjoying a morning glass of his favorite water when Sedene comes in with the morning mail.
“Good morning, Monsieur Neuvillette! Here is your mail!” says the Melusine with a bright smile. She stops by Neuvillette's side to deposit the mail on his desk.
Neuvillette smiles softly back and pats the Melusine on the head. “Thank you, my dear.”
Sedene giggles, but she abruptly stops and stares at Neuvillette.
Neuvillette tilts his head. “Is there something wrong with my appearance?” He asks curiously.
Sedene's expression turns gleeful and she jumps in place. “Congratulations, Monsieur! I'm so happy for you!” She exclaims excitedly.
Neuvillette's initial confusion doesn't last long.
Wriothesley.
Neuvillette slept in the Duke's bed last night, wrapped in his strong arms. The alpha's pheromones must be all over him. Maybe not enough to catch every omega or alpha's attention, but the Melusines’ senses are sharper than humans.
He has no doubt that by noon, all the Melusines of Fontaine will know about his budding relationship with the warden of Meropide.
Neuvillette doesn’t mind it. He isn't ashamed of the affection he bears for Wriothesley, and has no interest in hiding it now that he made his decision.
“Thank you, Sedene,” answers Neuvillette with a fond smile.
He is looking forward to this new chapter of his and Wriothesley’s life.