sempiternals | How could your heart be stolen by a human?

( He organizes everything in the hours Kaveh is gone. Keeping busy to avoid thinking or realizing most of his personal items are still under the depths.

His bed gets the fresh sheets, he showers off the day and then gets into bed, just to see Navia’s text.

Every pulse is at his throat as he jumps out of bed to grab his jacket, and scramble on to put on pants. Then he pauses— would he even be welcomed? He’d probably make him freak out more. )

Navia. Thanks for looking out for him. I was going to head up myself if I didn’t hear anything in the coming days.

I doubt he wants me near him. I’m glad he’s in good hands.

[ I doubt he wants me near him, Wriothesley says, and Navia frowns. She doesn't know what's going on, but there's a part of her doubting that that's true, somehow, not when Kaveh's head is practically buried in the pillow the Duke has always used when staying here in the past, as if he can pick up on the remnants of his scent. ]

Good hands or not, this isn't where he belongs, monsieur, and you know it.

Will you please tell me what happened? I can't help him like this.

[ Well, perhaps she could, but it's far from an ideal situation. How can she talk Kaveh through events of which she knows nothing? ]

He doesn’t belong here either. That much is clear now.

Let him sleep.

( The last thing he wants or needs is Navia yelling morals into his ears, or ruining what trust is left by confessing to murder. He knows she wouldn’t have that. )

Wriothesley

[ The man is impossible. She sighs, but doesn't push it any further. Rather: ]

If you don't want to tell me, I understand. But you should at least come here. I think you're wrong about him not wanting to see you. He's practically suffocating himself in your pillow.

If you meet here, it's on even footing, no? Both of you are safe to withdraw from the conversation at any time you need.

You still have my pillow? That's cute.

( Listen, this is how he copes with something so serious. )

I'll make my way over, but you should convince him to sleep before I arrive. It'll be easier to talk with a fresh mindset.

( On his way, he wonders how Navia ended up running into Kaveh - happy coincidence. Out of everyone, Navia and Clorinde would be the only ones he can trust to keep him company.

By the time he arrives at the Court of Fontaine, the sun has already set. He's avoiding seeing his phone, leaving the sound of people and fountains blur any thought creeping in. When he's face to face with Navia's door, all he hopes is that Kaveh isn't awake yet, so he knocks gently just in case. )

Edited 2024-02-17 23:42 (UTC)

I'll see you soon, then.

[ She finds herself pacing, watching over the sleeping architect as she waits; by the time the knock comes on her door, her feet are aching in her heels, and with a sigh she moves across to open the door, offering a gentle smile up at Wriothesley—

and wondering all over again what happened to make it like this. He looks exhausted, and Navia... ]

Wriothesley— you said he should sleep, but have you? [ she asks him softly, voice hushed for the man still asleep just a room away. A concerned hand reaches up to brush hair from his face. ] If you want to go over this with a fresh mindset, perhaps it's best for you to rest first too.

Sorry, I didn't respond to your message before all this.

( He truly didn't mean to appear as though he'd forgotten her. Though, soon she'll have a more concrete answer as to why. Besides, he did miss her presence and all the soothing powers it brings him. Gone are the days of their casual fucking, but he values her immensely as a friend. He doesn't stop her from caressing away his hair off his face once he's inside. )

I didn't think I'd be coming here for a slumber party. I haven't slept much, but I'm fine.

( He's actually fine. Sleep deprivation doesn't affect him as it would others. He has a higher tolerance for discomfort, having lived the life he did. He sits at the living room table, loosening his tie and shedding off his jacket. Some tea would be nice. )

He's lucky he ran into you. Where did you find him?

[ Luckily for Wriothesley, Navia knows his proclivities well. When gentleman sits at the table with a question on his lips, she holds a finger to her lips for a moment— just in time for a temporary butler to step into the room with a tray of baked goods, a teapot, and two cups. He sets it down and then leaves again, and Navia gestures a hand toward the tray with a slight smile at the warden— only then does she lean back in her own chair. ]

To tell you the truth, I was coming to visit you. I had no plans to intrude, but I wanted to at least drop some snacks off for the both of you.

[ To say she was overjoyed in response to her long time friend's text would be an understatement. He's wanted for something like this for far too long, in her mind— although apparently it's ready to come undone as quickly as it has knitted together. ]

Instead I found him at the top of the elevator, looking as if he couldn't decide which direction he needed to go. So I introduced myself properly, and brought him back here.

( He watches in silence as the butler is summoned, leaving a widespread snack for them to enjoy as much as they can with the conversation that is to come. However, Wriothesley seems to keep his gaze trained on the direction of the butler as if he's ensuring he leaves the room entirely to be out of earshot.

He picks up the cup of tea and sips from it, sighing and breathing in the scent. )

You're an angel, you know.

( He truly thinks if things weren't as they were, if their hearts weren't so far apart: She would be the one. )

I won't blame him if he decides to haul back to Sumeru without me. He didn't take the truth of my parents well. We haven't touched the subject at all since I told him. He told me he's in love with me but I also think he's afraid of me. It doesn't feel good.

You saw he was bandaged, right? An inmate attacked him, that was the second time. I wasn't going to allow him to hurt him again.

And that leads us here.

Mm. I changed the dressings for him once he was dozing.

[ The answer to his question comes easily. But after that, she's silent for a moment as she takes in the gravity of what Wriothesley says, the smile still frozen on her face from the moment before, when he called her an angel.

When it comes down to it, it's not that she's even entirely surprised by the admission. It makes sense that Wriothesley would do whatever he had to do in order to protect not only Kaveh, but the stability of the prison as a whole. And while she's not entirely sure she's okay with the idea that he killed someone... ]

You did what you had to do. But... he doesn't see it that way. Is that right?

[ She picks up her own cup, sipping slightly from it as she thinks it over. ]

That would explain why he kept saying what he did. [ There was something about him that seemed almost as if he blamed himself, she thinks. ] Why was he attacked in the first place?

( He wouldn't just kill at random, and at least Navia can grasp his logic. The balance of the Fortress can be a delicate one and someone overstepping his boundary could throw everything awry. He's silent as he drinks his tea, only imagining how frantic Kaveh must have been for Navia to pick him up and take him back. )

Well, they had a fling so naturally he was upset when Kaveh rejected him. I beat him up the first time. I warned him properly and not only did he hurt Kaveh, he disrespected the foundation of the Fortress. This is my home we're talking about.

( He leans back against his chair, lazily lifting his ankle on his knee to make a 4. Another thought comes to mind, perhaps some context for Navia. She might be more understanding than Kaveh but she's still human: most people would never resort to killing another. Her and death have had many encounters after all and Mr. Callas' also had his life cut short. )

Your father, knowing the type of person I was, asked me to stay away from you a long time ago. At the time, the Fortress was an ugly, unfair place whenever he and I would have business discussions. He never fully trusted me because he knew what I was capable of after the incident with the previous warden. I can't blame him for that either, but if Kaveh can't accept me for me, then how is this supposed to work?

[ She nods, understanding. She's not sure she could ever bring herself to kill in order to defend her home, but—

No, that's not true. If she'd been able to end someone's life— just that of one wicked person— to prevent the death of those two she loved the most? She knows in her deepest, darkest of hearts that she may well have done it, even if they're words she's not sure she could ever bring herself to speak aloud.

So then, who is she to judge, when Wriothesley's choices are made to protect the foundation of an entire civilization? ]

My father liked to have control over a great number of things, Your Grace, and over time I have come to disagree with him about many of them. [ The "incident with the previous warden"— another number to his toll, she supposes, but she asks not. She trusts this man with her life; it is a trust he has earned. And has the Fortress not turned around in the time since his taking over? ]

Surely he just needs time, Wriothesley. This world is all new to him. And if he did indeed have a fling with the man, then... it's likely he also feels some measure of guilt over it.

[ Little does either of them know, but the subject of their conversation, woken up, has found himself in the doorway of the room, intent on thanking Navia for her hospitality and fleeing to Archons-only-know-where. On seeing Wriothesley in the room with her though, Kaveh shrinks back into the shadow of the doorframe, feeling frozen and unsure of himself, left temporarily to do naught but listen. ]

It's as you said: a sleep will help the discussion be smoother between the two of you. It may take some time, but I'm sure he will come to understand why it had to be the way it was.

( The way she mentions her many disagreements with her father spikes a brief thought in his head: does she have any skeletons in her closet? He drinks to it. Hard to imagine sweet old Navia bringing someone's life to an end, though. But he's sure she would do it if it came to extreme situations. )

He is an emotional guy, I have come to learn, but I don't think he understands it was his life or the other. Like I said, maybe he doesn't belong down there after all.

( He finishes the tea but leaves a biscuit half eaten. )

I was afraid life in the Fortress would eventually become too much, and here we are. If I want someone dead down there, I will see to it and as the Duke, I can't think any other way or it will be my life at stake.

But, ah. What room do I use? Thanks for everything, Navia.

[ Navia nods. The situation being what it was doesn't surprise her. For as much as Wriothesley— and the Fortress as a whole— believes in the concept of "rebirth", there are some who no doubt are beyond such rehabilitative measures. People like this Mael, who would have continued escalating and escalating until an innocent man lay dead at his feet.

But she thinks the warden isn't painting himself in a fair light, either. If I want, he says, but it's not that. It's a matter of need, and she opens her mouth to say as much, then to direct him to the guest quarters, when their conversation is interrupted by a figure stepping out from the doorway and into the room's dim light. ]

You can come with me. [ Kaveh's eyes are redder than normal, his voice thick with the same unshed tears that cling to his lashes. He manages a small, tired smile in Navia's direction before looking back to Wriothesley, something fond and aching in his expression despite the pain in his voice. ] Can we talk?

( He's tidying up his plate and placing the empty cup of tea onto the tray as well. It's the least he can do as he rises from his seat, worn from the entire ordeal and looking forward to resting as Navia suggested.

All of that changes the moment he hears Kaveh's voice creep in from the other side of the room, standing at the doorframe. He's unsure if he has had enough time to process everything, and especially now assuming he might have eavesdropped on their conversation. How much of it did Kaveh hear?

He glances at Navia briefly, hoping she might be able to tell if it's a good idea to go with him or not. Kaveh can be rather explosive. How is he supposed to put him at ease if he's the reason he cries to begin with?

Once in the room with him, he closes the door behind them. There is no attempt to get close to him yet. )

Did you get to sleep?

[ Navia's only response to Wriothesley is a slight smile, a nod. She knows Kaveh less than Wriothesley does, can only make assumptions based on the current tone of his voice, the way he hovers anxiously in the doorway. All she can do is keep an ear out— if things start to get nasty, she'll be there to help.

In her room, Kaveh crosses the floor to sit on the bed, eyes on his hands as they twist in his lap, finding himself unsure of what to say or do in their new situation. In his head, over and over, the same words:

I don't think he understands it was his life or the other.

Wriothesley speaks, and Kaveh nods, a small, weak smile as he glances up at him. ]

It wasn't that good but... some. This pillow of hers is really nice. It's probably a herb pillow, or something, I'll have to ask her about it. [ But he's rambling— and also unaware of the gravity of what he's saying— He twists his fingers tighter together and falls silent for a moment or two.

When he speaks once more, his voice shudders on the words. ]

You really think he would have killed me?

( Wriothesley's features are stern as he waits for him to finish talking, namely due to the fact he's trying to hold back the information about that pillow specifically. His poker face is handy in these trying times, but really, who's to say Kaveh might find it somewhat distasteful for Navia to keep holding onto Wriothesley's pillow?

He walks across so he can sit on the chair by the desk, giving Kaveh his space. So he did hear a lot of their conversation, then. )

I wasn't going to wait and find out. He threw away his chance to repent the moment he put a knife to your chest.

It was my throat.

[ The words are quiet, his breath hitching on the admission. He knows he told him before, but it was in the middle of Wriothesley's rage, in the eye of that storm as he tried so desperately to calm him down. And perhaps more important now, because in his own naïveté there was a part of Kaveh that never believed that Mael really wanted to kill him— until now, faced with that truth and with the other man's motivations.

Kaveh's arms fold, wrap back around his own arms as far as they can reach, as if hugging himself to offer some weak sort of comfort. ]

I just thought of it as a threat. I keep forgetting... somehow, in my head, the part where he did that, and the part where he actually attacked me after.. they're separate, and...

[ His eyes squeeze shut on a sniffle. ]

He's dead because of me, Wriothesley.

What?

( The new information paints another gnarly picture in the turn of events. His mind must have muted a lot of what Kaveh had mentioned that fateful night, but blood is blood regardless of where it comes from.

So Kaveh is confessing this again only fuels the dormant rage still left in him. Wriothesley stands abruptly, watching Kaveh on the bed as proof that his decision is right. )

He’s dead because I killed him, and I have no idea what it will take for you to understand, Kaveh. It was him or you. I know my inmates, I give everyone a fair chance and he lost his. Simple as that.

( He sighs harshly and sits back down, pinching the bridge of his nose. )

Sorry. If you want to blame yourself for anything then blame yourself for breaking his heart, but leave everything else to me.

[ He's silent, shocked a little, as Wriothesley pushes himself up off the bed so abruptly, and for a moment he's worried he's somehow done something wrong, but then the other sits again, and something settles in his stomach, allowing him to breathe once more. ]

I understand. [ The words come quietly, even as the blonde knots his fingers together so tightly that they start to go white at the joints. ] I don't like it, but I understand. This is...

[ He closes his eyes, the words heavy on his tongue. When someone has already been removed from society at large, when there's nowhere else for them to go, and they somehow fuck up badly enough to be a danger to others yet again, then...

No. Surely he can't just accept it that readily? Human lives are meant to be precious, something to be treasured and cared for. Death should never be an option, not even for someone like Mael—

But if not Mael, than who? If not Mael, the blood spilled on the metal floors of the Fortress would be his—

Kaveh's knees curl up against his chest, arms hugging them close, face pressing into one of them as he starts to cry, body shaking with the sudden effort. He understands, but he doesn't want to. He knows why it happened the way it did even as he craves another solution where none exist. His heart hurts— ]

I understand. [ His voice, between sobs, is hoarse and weak. ] I wish I didn't.

( He's miserable looking at Kaveh crouch and shrink into himself like this, mumbling the same words over and over. That's when Wriothesley approaches him, slow enough to give Kaveh the choice of whether he would want him any closer or not. He sits next to him on the bed, angled towards him as if he were offering himself for him to rest against. Since Kaveh claims to understand, Wriothesley doesn't try to drive up the point anymore. He hopes he truly does grasp where his actions come from. )

Do you want me here for the night?

[ Perhaps Wriothesley will find some relief in the way Kaveh leans into him immediately, the blonde unfurling just enough that he can curl himself into the other man instead, pressing his face into his shoulder and fingers reaching to cling to his clothes. That same comforting scent washes over him, the one on which he's been relying all this time, and he sighs, feeling himself start to relax even as the tears continue to roll down his cheeks.

To the question, the blonde can only nod. What he wants, he thinks, is to go home— the word in his mind equated without realization to Wriothesley's quarters in the office, the other's strong but gentle hold. But it's too late in the day to travel back, and so surely this is the next best thing. ]

Please. [ With a sigh, he shifts back on the bed, clutching fingers trying to tug the other with him. ] Stay here with me.

( It's the scent of tea leaves seeping for an extended period, the finest of the bunch. Or the dried, ground aromas across Teyvat, releasing their dew the more they steam and become a permanent part of his natural musk. Bold and masculine. He sighs as Kaveh leans against him, but before he's able to tug him towards the bed, there's some tension. )

Okay, I will. Let me take off my boots first.

( So he leans over, unclasping every latch and unzipping the two, sliding off the pieces until he's comfortably free of them. Then he crawls over Kaveh's body to rest at his side, inching close until they share a pillow. )

Do you still want to live in the Fortress?

[ In response to Wriothesley's question, Kaveh is silent just for a moment— and then, he nods, coiling himself in a little closer to the other now that they're sharing a pillow, his face moving to press into his shoulder, just breathing even more of him in. ]

I do, [ he whispers. ] I know that means... I know I'm gonna have a lot to get used to. I... as much as I don't like it, I understand that... that it's how things have to be, and... and it's not as if you do it all the time, and...

[ He takes a slow, deliberate breath, cutting himself off before he can begin to ramble. He still has a long, long way to go for him to even start being okay with it— but he's trying. ]

Can I ask you something, Wriothesley?

( He holds his breath for the time being, unsure if his future with Kaveh is entirely off the table now. His extreme handle on the Fortress is inevitable, if another situation like this may arise. He knows there’s other inmates who would do anything to be in contact with Kaveh, too. Who wouldn’t?

He wraps his arm around him, closing his eyes and then opening them again whenever he prompts the question. Now that’s one way to make him anxious. )

What is it?

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