Chapter Text
“Traveler and I were terrified,” Paimon was recalling. She was breathless merely from the memory. “I don’t know how Wriothesley didn’t get caught under the last door. It was way too close!”
The Traveler wasn’t as expressive as Paimon, but they gave a small nod as Paimon spoke. They had indeed been frightened for Duke Wriothesley’s life.
It shouldn’t have been surprising to learn this. Neuvillette had already known Wriothesley and Clorinde held back the Primordial Sea until he could arrive. It obviously would have been a life-or-death struggle. But for some reason, learning that the struggle had nearly been lost sparked a feeling in Neuvillette’s chest.
What was it? Not fear, surely. Wriothesley wasn’t in danger at the moment – the seal Neuvillette had placed would not hold forever, but neither would it imminently fall. Was it an increase in his perceived responsibility? The water churning beneath the Fortress of Meropide and all the Fontainians living in its path weighed on Neuvillette’s mind most hours of the day.
This feeling was similar to that one but not totally the same. It also reminded Neuvillette of the memory of learning the news of Carole’s death all those years ago, and of reading a threating letter addressed to Kiara all too recently. In some ways, it wasn’t familiar at all, a hot acidic wash in his stomach and beneath his ribs. The inability to identify or describe it was frustrating – a failure of awareness, language, or both.
Neuvillette would keep carrying out his duty to the best of his ability, despite these occasional failures. If that duty now included some burden of care toward the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide – or if it always had, and Neuvillette had only just become aware of it – he would attend to it as diligently as he’d tried to do for the Melusines. It wasn’t that he doubted Sigewinne, who he’d sent down to take care of those beneath the waves. It just felt like, now, Neuvillette needed to involve himself a little more directly.
He did some research – reading a large volume of something other than case files was novel – and once he’d synthesized some of the more promising findings, he summoned Wriothesley to meet with him at the Palais on whatever day met his earliest convenience. He suggested the early evening hours: late enough that Neuvillette would be finished with his essential duties for the Court, and hopefully early enough that the meeting wouldn’t cut too deeply into Wriothesley’s personal time.
Wriothesley appeared in Neuvillette’s office as dusk fell on the very same day he sent the summons.
“Thank you for coming. I hope I didn’t overstate the urgency of my request,” Neuvillette said in greeting. “The topic could have been delayed for a few days.”
“I’ve been wondering if I should stop by anyway. If the morning weather reports are anything to go by, it’s barely stopped raining up here for the last two weeks.” Wriothesley said all this with a cocky smile. “Uh, by which I mean, I’ve been worried our esteemed Iudex might start feeling depressed with all this gloomy weather.”
It seemed that, even after knowing Neuvillette had subdued the Primordeal Sea alone, Wriothesley was willing to leave certain things unsaid.
“Anyway, when you sent word something was on your mind and I could help you with it, I obviously came at the first opportunity. What do you want to discuss?” Wriothesley took a seat on one of the sofas with a relaxed posture he might take in his own office in the Fortress of Meropide.
Neuvillette moved the file holding the information he’d put together to the center of his desk. “I’ve looked at several pieces of research and am compiling a list of important factors for human thriving. Since so many humans fail to thrive, I wonder if the knowledge isn’t flawed or incomplete … but it’s at least a place to start. I’d like to interview you about a few of the items to get your opinion on their legitimacy, and to compare your current situation with the ideal.” Also to assess Wriothesley’s knowledge of these factors in the first place. Maybe an issue was that this information wasn’t common among humans.
It didn’t take expertise on human emotion to interpret the complete bewilderment on Wriothesley’s face. It shifted into something harder. His posture was no longer so relaxed. “Since I’ve taken over as administrator, the Fortress has gone from being a human and economic cesspool to a functional organization for the people who live there and our external partners. Everyone eats at least one meal a day, inmates from all walks of life are paid fairly for their work, and the corruption and depravity that were commonplace in the past are almost complete nonissues. Do you think I’m being negligent, or failing to create an environment where inmates can thrive?”
“No, not at all. Your work as the Fortress’s administrator has been remarkable. I apologize for giving you the wrong impression. This is about you specifically.”
Bewilderment again. Wriothesley’s face took on such rich expressions. “You want to … talk to me about factors for my own ‘human thriving’? Is this something the Masion Gestion’s HR department has come up with to justify their head count and budget? But, no, even if this is the Palais’s latest bureaucratic nightmare, I’m not subject to their oversight, and … Tell me they aren’t troubling you, the Iudex himself, with executing it personally.”
“This has nothing to do with the Palais in an official capacity. It’s a personal inquiry of mine.”
Wriothesley’s bewilderment slowly gave way to something else. Something as difficult to pin down as Neuvillette’s own feelings. “Monsieur Neuvillette – are you asking if I’m doing well?”
Neuvillette supposed … after a fashion, he was. “Not in a way that asks for a short, routine response.”
“I’d figured that much out.” Then Wriothesley laughed. It was short and sharp, loud even in Neuvillette’s spacious office.
Neuvillette wondered what was showing on his own face. Perhaps nothing – he had often found he was as hard for humans to understand as they were for him.
“In that case, forgive me for stonewalling such a kind line of questioning from our greatly respected Iudex,” Wriothesley continued. “If I can satisfy some concern of yours – even if I can’t imagine why – I’ll happily be of service. What things on that list of yours do you want to ask me about?”
Relieved Wriothesley now seemed to understand and was agreeable, Neuvillette opened his research file. “Fortunately or unfortunately, one of the most important factors for human wellbeing is a happy childhood. It seems to help one form stable relationships as an adult.” Knowing what he did about Wriothesley’s criminal conviction, Neuvillette anticipated this first factor would be uncomfortable. To minimize this, he quickly added, “The relationship with one’s parents is only part of the story. It’s also beneficial to have had a close relationship with at least one sibling. I’m curious to learn whether you had any siblings, either in your foster family or your family of origin – and if so, what your relationship was like.”
Wriothesley blew out a huff of air. “And here I thought these would be easy questions. I think it’s pretty obvious what kind of relationships I had with my foster family. If I had siblings in my family of origin, I don’t remember them. I was taken in as an infant.”
“I see,” Neuvillette said, casting a glance at the next factor on the list in front of him. “I’m sorry to hear that was the case. Rest assured, the research indicates a difficult childhood is not an insurmountable obstacle.”
“Is that so?” Wriothesley replied, with a dryness to his voice that may have been sardonic. “And here pining after a happy one is one of my favorite pastimes.”
“It’s natural to have some regrets or wishes about the way certain things occurred the past, although … you may be joking. Regardless, in your case, I think there’s plenty of reason to be optimistic about the future. It appears those who had troubled childhoods are happier and better-adjusted as adults if they engage in something you already seem inclined toward: generativity. That is, guiding and improving wellbeing for those who come after you.”
Wriothesley seemed to think about this for a moment. That, or he was simply staring at Neuvillette. “So you think helping others thrive is a way to make yourself better adjusted?”
“Yes, an idea that’s reinforced by the literature on adaptive coping mechanisms.” Neuvillette sifted through the file for the appropriate sheet. Wriothesley was smirking at him when he found it and looked back up. Neuvillette wasn’t sure why, but it seemed encouraging, so he continued explaining his findings. “Humans who deal with stress in certain ways have better outcomes than others. Some of the adaptive techniques are sublimation – for example, if you are mistreated, working to protect the rights of others – and suppression – putting worries out of your mind until you can do something concrete to plan for them in the future.”
Wriothesley snorted at that. Neuvillette wasn’t sure why.
“Some maladaptive coping strategies are denial, acting out, and projection. In other words, based on what I know of you, you seem to already use adaptive strategies.”
“If you think I’m doing as well as I can at all these ‘factors’, why are you bothering to discuss them with me?”
“First, to see if you agree with me. I’m only an external, distant observer, so my perspective on your life is limited.”
“I suppose I do, more or less.”
“Second, I’m curious. Did you choose these strategies on purpose, or simply follow them unconsciously?” That was important information if Neuvillette was going to apply this knowledge to humans in general.
“I wouldn’t say I chose to do things this way on purpose in an abstract sense, because they were ‘generative’ or because it would be ‘sublimation’. I certainly didn’t know about this research you’re talking about. I’d guess I’m probably just predisposed to taking action and dealing with things.”
“I see.” That was an issue Neuvillette would have to explore further. “Lastly, the main reason I wanted to have a discussion with you is because the final factor seems less clear-cut.”
“You mean you have some concerns.”
“I do. One of the most important factors for human thriving, both on a day-to-day basis and over the course of a lifetime, is warm, secure relationships.”
Wriothesley, who had over the course of the conversation relaxed enough to cross one leg over the other and rest his cheek on his fist, sat up straighter at those words. His crossed leg dropped back to the floor. “Wow. You’ve managed to go for the jugular twice in a four-bullet list. Maybe one day you should try switching roles with Lady Furina and act as prosecutor.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Have you figured out the weak points of all the people who work in and around the Court of Fontaine, or am I special?”
Neuvillette considered the question in light of the reason he’d invited Wriothesley here in the first place. “You’re the first human I’m analyzing closely this way. It may be that there’s something special about you that caused me to focus on you in particular. I’m not sure.”
Neuvillette could tell that Wriothesley was surprised to receive a positive answer to his question. Maybe it had merely been a joke.
Neuvillette forged on – if his response had been out of tune, there was no point in lingering on it. “So you agree that you might benefit from support in that area. My first concern is that your work in the Fortress of Meropide may make building social bonds outside your work environment more difficult. For example, time spent daily with a long-term partner is highly beneficial, but you might only be able to come to the surface to see them a few times a week.”
“I’d have to actually have a long-term partner before it was worth worrying about our respective living arrangements.”
“I suppose that’s true. Most of the research I’ve read so far has referred to social attachments in general. I’ll have to do further review on long-term partnerships. Is there anyone already in your social circle you think might be suitable?”
Wriothesley’s laugh this time was different somehow. He got up from the chair and paced a few idle steps in front of Neuvillette’s desk. “Look, I appreciate that you’re thinking of me, Monsieur Neuvillette, but you don’t have to concern yourself with making sure I check every box on your list. The Fortress is my home, and I’m doing more than all right for myself. It would be nice to have closer relationships, but considering the types of people who end up fitting in well down there – and I include myself in that category – I don’t know if it’s realistic to expect the moon.”
“I don’t think this is something to casually brush aside. Loneliness is extremely toxic to human health and wellbeing. Many people who live in the Fortress of Meropide are transient. Those who choose to remain are, as you point out, not always good candidates for long-term, trusted relationships. It’s good that you have a friendly working relationship with Sigewinne – or at least, that’s how she reports it. If you feel differently, you can let me know. But a single colleague is not an adequate source of social connection.”
“You’re making me sound like a recluse. There are a dozen people down there I work with closely, who oversee certain things for me – even if, to be honest, my relationship with most of them isn’t really social. And it’s not like I don’t have any connections outside the Fortress. I have contacts all across Fontaine – I have to, to run the Fortress the way I do.”
“Do any of those people meet the definition of warm, secure attachments? Are they relationships you trust will remain, regardless of adversity?”
Wriothesley turned his head to face Neuvillette’s gaze. He didn’t shy away or hesitate, looking straight at Neuvillette with eyes the color of cold rain. He also didn’t answer the question. The silence that pooled in Neuvillette’s office seemed like answer enough.
Then Wriothesley said, “You’re not going anywhere, are you? I’ll be a couple of drops of water in the Primordial Sea long before you step down from the Chief Justice’s seat.”
The words recalled Paimon’s story, and the barely-averted reality where this capable, determined human was only a whisper remembered in the waters of Fontaine instead of standing safe and whole in Neuvillette’s office. That unidentified feeling stirred into renewed motion in Neuvillette’s chest. It was as stormy as the clouds above Fontaine and the emotions in the Fountain of Leucine.
Neuvillette was a little distracted after that, though he tried to shake off the aimless feeling, to avoid dragging down the discussion. He suggested a few of the interventions he’d read about – things like “think about people you like and who energize you, and intentionally see them more often” and “even brief interactions with strangers or acquaintances can make a human happier, often contrary to their expectations.”
“So you’re saying it’s not weird that getting an invitation to come talk to you made my day.”
Neuvillette was startled. It wasn’t a strange thing for Wriothesley to feel that way, of course. The file in front of Neuvillette was full of research that proved it. “I’m also … glad we had a few minutes to talk. I’ll follow up to see if any of these interventions serve you.”
“If you want to try them out too, we can compare notes. You know, for research. More seriously, if things get busy for you, please don’t feel like you have to squeeze me into your schedule at your own expense. Otherwise, I’ll make sure I can come when it’s convenient.”
“We’ll speak again soon,” Neuvillette replied definitively. If he was one of Wriothesley’s most trusted contacts, he couldn’t let this matter fall through the cracks.
The words brightened Wriothesley’s eyes, so Neuvillette had to be doing the right thing pursuing this.