Day 2

Day two with Arlecchino began in a haze of quiet tension for Furina. She barely knew where she was, and her sense of time was murky, clouded by the oppressive atmosphere of Arlecchino's world. Now, she found herself ushered into a dark, elegant carriage. The interior was lined with deep red velvet, the seats plush but strangely intimidating, making the enclosed space feel almost too intimate for comfort.

Arlecchino sat across from Furina, reclining with an air of casual power that left no question as to who controlled the situation. She was dressed immaculately in tailored black, her gloved hands resting loosely in her lap, a faint smirk on her lips as her eyes flickered over Furina's form. Furina couldn't shake the unsettling feeling of being watched like a piece on a chessboard, examined and calculated by Arlecchino's sharp gaze.

The wheels began to turn, and the carriage lurched forward, pulling them along the cobbled streets. Furina's eyes darted to the small window, catching glimpses of the world outside. Morning light filtered through the fog, casting an eerie glow on the misty city streets. Everything was silent, save for the rhythmic clopping of hooves and the occasional murmur of passersby—whispers muffled by the carriage's thick walls.

Arlecchino's gaze hadn't left her. Furina felt the weight of it, pressing against her, piercing through any feigned composure she tried to maintain. She kept her own gaze fixed determinedly out the window, but every so often, she could feel herself instinctively glancing back, only to find those piercing eyes locked on her.

"Comfortable, dear Archon?" Arlecchino's voice sliced through the quiet, carrying a smooth, taunting quality that unsettled Furina further.

Furina forced herself to meet Arlecchino's gaze, trying to appear unfazed, though the tension in her shoulders betrayed her. "I didn't have much of a choice, did I?" she replied, her voice sharper than she intended.

Arlecchino's smirk deepened, a glint of amusement sparking in her eyes as she leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee and her chin on her hand. "Ah, but choice is a funny thing, isn't it? You might think you lack it, but even when options are stripped away, there's always something left to decide—how you face what's ahead."

Silence fell between them once more as the carriage rumbled along, the tension thickening with every passing second. Furina's eyes flickered down to her hands, twisting nervously in her lap, betraying her discomfort. The world outside had shifted; they were leaving the bustling heart of the city, the streets narrowing as buildings turned from humble homes to looming, elegant estates.

Finally, they pulled up to a grand iron gate. Through the fog, Furina could make out the sprawling expanse of Arlecchino's mansion—a dark, foreboding structure with pointed roofs and ivy-clad walls that seemed to reach up to the overcast sky. The mansion's windows were like watchful eyes, each one a silent observer of whatever secrets lay within.

The carriage door opened, and Arlecchino stepped out first, extending a hand with a mock flourish. Furina hesitated but took it, the warmth of Arlecchino's hand stark against the chill that surrounded them. She was guided down the small steps onto the gravel path leading to the mansion's towering doors.

The moment they entered, the interior greeted them with a heavy silence, only occasionally broken by the faint echo of their footsteps on the polished marble floor. Chandeliers hung from the ceilings, casting a low, golden glow that did little to soften the sharp edges and dark wood that filled the space. Portraits lined the walls, each face seeming to follow Furina as she was led deeper into the mansion. She couldn't shake the feeling of being swallowed up by the place, every corner shadowed, every door concealing something she didn't dare imagine.

Arlecchino led her up a grand staircase, her presence calm and steady beside Furina's more hesitant steps. The hallway they entered was vast, lined with tall windows shrouded by dark curtains. Arlecchino guided her to a set of double doors, pushing them open to reveal a dimly lit room with tall bookshelves and a roaring fireplace. The room smelled of aged leather and faint, smoky incense, an atmosphere that was both intoxicating and suffocating.

Arlecchino motioned for Furina to sit on the plush couch in front of the fire. Furina complied, her gaze never leaving Arlecchino as the Harbinger poured two glasses of rich, dark wine. Arlecchino handed one to her, her gloved fingers brushing lightly against Furina's hand. It was a brief touch, but it lingered, sending a chill down Furina's spine.

"To new beginnings," Arlecchino said, lifting her glass, her smile unfathomable.

Furina swallowed hard, clinking her glass against Arlecchino's. The liquid was bitter on her tongue, sharp and unfamiliar, yet it warmed her, easing her nerves just enough to dull the edge of fear. But Arlecchino's gaze remained, as piercing as ever, watching her with a mix of amusement and calculation that kept Furina painfully aware of how vulnerable she was in this place.

As the night deepened, the firelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the room, and Furina could feel herself slipping further into Arlecchino's world—one where control was a game, and every word, every glance, was a calculated move on a board she barely understood.

The evening continued, thick with unspoken words and subtle tension. The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow that contrasted sharply with the cold, calculated presence of Arlecchino seated beside Furina. They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Furina held her glass tightly, the bitter wine lingering on her tongue and providing a momentary distraction from the unnerving ambiance of the mansion.

Arlecchino shifted beside her, her gaze unwavering as she leaned in closer. "It's strange, isn't it?" she murmured, her voice soft but with a bite. "You, the beloved Archon, seated here like any other guest. Vulnerable. Out of place." Her words danced around Furina, both gentle and cutting, as if prodding at the fragile composure Furina was trying to maintain.

Furina's fingers tightened around the stem of her glass as she fought the urge to snap back. Arlecchino's proximity was suffocating, her presence both magnetic and menacing. Furina glanced at the door, mentally calculating her chances of escape—though she quickly dismissed the thought. There was no point. She was in Arlecchino's domain, surrounded by her men, and any attempt to resist would be futile.

"Why am I here?" Furina finally asked, her voice barely above a whisper, though there was an edge to it. She was determined to maintain whatever sliver of authority she had left, even if she felt it slipping with each passing second.

Arlecchino tilted her head, a faint smile curling at the edges of her lips. "Oh, Furina, don't pretend you don't know," she replied smoothly, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from Furina's face, her gloved fingers grazing her cheek. "You've been meddling, haven't you? Digging into things that don't concern you. Stirring up matters best left alone."

Furina's breath caught, the touch both chilling and invasive. She tried to move back, but Arlecchino's hand lingered, her fingers tracing a slow, deliberate path along Furina's jawline before pulling away. It was a small gesture, but it left Furina feeling more exposed than she cared to admit.

"I'm simply doing my duty as Archon," Furina replied, her voice steady, though her heart pounded. "If the Fatui have nothing to hide, then there should be no issue with me overseeing affairs that concern Fontaine."

Arlecchino let out a quiet, almost mocking laugh, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "My dear, it's precisely because you're the Archon that this is an issue. You're playing a dangerous game." She leaned back, her gaze never leaving Furina's face, studying her reaction. "But perhaps you don't understand what you're dealing with. The Fatui... we're not the petty criminals you're used to handling."

Furina clenched her jaw, the frustration bubbling beneath her cool exterior. "Is that supposed to scare me?"

A silence settled between them, thick with tension. Arlecchino watched her, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. Slowly, she stood, her movements graceful yet carrying a weight of authority that made Furina's heart race. She crossed the room, each step echoing softly against the polished floors, her figure silhouetted by the flickering firelight.

"Fear isn't the point, Furina," Arlecchino said, her voice softer now, though it held a note of warning. "It's about respect. And understanding your place in this... grand design."

Furina looked away, her thoughts swirling with anger and confusion. There was something in Arlecchino's tone, a strange mix of disdain and something almost... protective. It made no sense, but she couldn't shake the feeling that this was more than a mere power play.

Arlecchino turned to face her once more, her eyes sharp and assessing. She moved closer, her gaze flicking over Furina's features with a hint of curiosity, as if trying to decipher a puzzle. "Tell me, dear Archon," she said softly, "are you ready to truly see what lies beneath Fontaine? To understand the darkness you've so blindly ignored?"

Furina swallowed, feeling a chill crawl up her spine. Arlecchino's words hung in the air, a challenge laced with a hint of foreboding. She had been drawn into a world she barely understood, and for the first time, she felt a pang of uncertainty—a gnawing doubt that maybe, just maybe, she was in over her head.

.........

Neuvillette sat at his desk, a faint smile playing on his lips as he looked at Wriothesley, who stood by the window. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the room, adding a sense of tranquility to the tension that had settled between them.

The atmosphere in Neuvillette's office was thick with unspoken words, the weight of the ongoing investigation pressing heavily on both men. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows, casting a soft glow on the polished wood of the desk, but despite the peaceful setting, the tension was palpable.

He sat back in his chair, his fingers tapping absently against the armrest as his sharp gaze lingered on Wriothesley, who was standing near the window, casting a long silhouette across the room.

It was a rare moment when the two men could allow themselves to be in each other's company without the looming burden of responsibility. The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the room, adding a sense of tranquility to the tension that had settled between them.

Wriothesley was dressed in his usual attire, a sharp contrast to Neuvillette's more formal look, but the differences between their appearances didn't seem to matter. There was an understanding between them, something deeper than either of them could express in words.

"You're looking rather... dashing today," Neuvillette said, his voice low but playful. His eyes roamed over Wriothesley's figure as he leaned back in his chair, his tone both teasing and affectionate.

"You know," he said, breaking the silence, his voice low, almost like a private confession, "I've always admired your ability to focus when it matters. I sometimes wish I could turn off the pressure, even for a moment."

Wriothesley chuckled, the sound rich with amusement. He turned, raising an eyebrow. "Is that so? I suppose I have to maintain a certain standard, especially in your company." He smiled slightly, stepping away from the window, his movements smooth and deliberate. Be  leaned in, as his hand brushing lightly against Neuvillette's and he placed a file down. "But you know, you're distracting me with that smile."

Wriothesley's eyes flicked to him, and for a brief moment, the seriousness of the situation seemed to soften.

"Maybe that's because you shoulder the weight of this entire city, while I'm more accustomed to the shadows," he replied, his voice tinged with a teasing lilt.

Neuvillette's lips quirked into the smallest of smiles at the remark, but his expression quickly turned contemplative as he returned his gaze to the stack of papers in front of him. The reports about Furina's disappearance were endless, and despite his best efforts to process them, the feeling of helplessness gnawed at him.

He hated not having answers, hated the uncertainty that clouded his thoughts. But for a moment, the weight of the missing archon, Furina, seemed to fade away, the only thing that mattered was the unspoken connection they shared.

Wriothesley noticed the shift in Neuvillette's mood. He moved closer, his steps quiet against the marble floor, and rested a hand gently on the desk beside Neuvillette's papers, leaning slightly over it. "You're not alone in this," he said softly, his voice soothing yet filled with quiet determination. "I've got your back, as always. No matter what happens, we'll figure this out together."

Neuvillette looked up at Wriothesley, the subtle weight in his gaze reflecting gratitude but also a hint of the anxiety that had been building within him. He reached out, his fingers brushing against Wriothesley's hand for just a moment, a silent gesture of connection.

But before the moment could deepen,
there was a sharp knock at the door, disrupting the calm that had settled between them.Neuvillette quickly straightened in his chair, his face shifting back into its professional demeanor.

"Come in."

The door opened, and a guard stepped inside, holding a folder in his hand. Wriothesley quickly straightened, stepping away from Neuvillette's desk, though the subtle glint in his eyes remained. He moved to stand near the window, his back to the room as he casually leaned against the wall, trying to hide the lingering amusement on his face.

"Sir Neuvillette," the guard began, his tone respectful but carrying the weight of urgency. "We've received more information regarding the disappearance of Archon Furina. There's something you need to see."

Neuvillette gave a small nod, his expression unreadable as he gestured for the guard to proceed. Wriothesley stepped back from the desk, his arms folding across his chest as he observed the guard. Though he remained silent, there was a certain intensity in his eyes, an unspoken understanding of the importance of this moment.

The guard set the folder down on the desk with a quiet thud, looking between the two men. "We've traced some of the last known movements of Archon Furina," he continued, his voice tense with the weight of the news. "And... there's a pattern emerging. It appears that her disappearance might have been planned. We believe someone is behind this, and we're narrowing down the list of suspects."

Neuvillette's face remained composed, but the tension in his shoulders was noticeable. He took the folder from the guard, nodding as he flipped it open. His eyes scanned the documents, his mind already racing through possibilities.

Neuvillette's fingers lightly grazed the edge of the folder as he opened it, his gaze quickly scanning the papers inside. The information was fragmented, but one thing was clear: whoever was behind this had been careful. Too careful. And now, more than ever, the stakes were high.

"What do we know?" he asked, his voice professional, yet still tinged with a subtle edge of concern.

The guard hesitated before responding. "We haven't pinpointed anyone specifically yet, sir. But there's a name—an individual associated with the Fatui. We're still confirming the details, but it's a lead."

The guard stepped closer, pointing to a specific page. "We've traced the last known movements of Her Lady Furina, and there seems to be a pattern suggesting someone orchestrated her disappearance. It could be a group or... a single individual. But as of right now we suspect it has something to do with a fatui..."

Neuvillette's expression tightened slightly, and he glanced up at Wriothesley, his eyes meeting his husband's with a silent understanding.

The mention of the Fatui immediately put them both on high alert. Wriothesley, who had been quietly observing the exchange, shifted his weight, finally turning to face the room.

"I trust you'll keep me informed," he said, his tone casual, but with a hint of protectiveness. "You don't need to carry this alone. And ensure no one else is alerted to this information. We're working in the shadows now."

Neuvillette glanced up at Wriothesley, his expression softening. He could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, but with Wriothesley by his side, there was a sense of comfort in the storm. "Of course. I'll handle this, but I appreciate your support."

The guard, sensing the growing tension in the room, gave a small bow and exited quietly, leaving the two alone again.

Wriothesley moved back to Neuvillette's side, placing a hand on the desk, his thumb lightly brushing the edge as he leaned in closer.

He exhaled slowly, his jaw tightening. "I don't like it," he said, his tone low. "The Fatui are involved. That complicates things."

Neuvillette nodded, his gaze returning to the papers in front of him. "It complicates everything," he murmured, his fingers brushing against the edge of the folder once more. "But we will find her, Wriothesley. We won't stop until we do."

Wriothesley stepped forward again, this time standing directly behind Neuvillette. His hands rested on Neuvillette's shoulders, a comforting weight as he leaned down to whisper in his ear. "And we'll do it together. You're not alone in this."

Neuvillette closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of Wriothesley's presence calm him. "I know," he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude and quiet resolve. "But I fear the journey ahead won't be easy."

Wriothesley's grip tightened, his thumbs gently massaging Neuvillette's shoulders. "No, it won't be," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "But whatever comes, we'll face it side by side. Always."

He smiled as he spoke, "You're always so serious when it comes to your duties," he said, his voice soft, but carrying an undercurrent of teasing. "I think I might need to remind you to take a break once in a while."

Neuvillette's lips twitched into a small smile. "And how do you propose I do that?"

Wriothesley grinned, leaning down just a bit closer. "Oh, I have my ways," he whispered, his breath warm against Neuvillette's ear.

For a long moment, the two of them stood in silence, the weight of the task ahead heavy in the air. But there was also something reassuring about their closeness—an unspoken promise that no matter what lay ahead, they would face it together. Neuvillette took a deep breath and straightened, determination flooding back into his veins.

The brief moment of levity was enough to ground Neuvillette, even in the midst of the ongoing crisis. For a moment, he let himself relax, appreciating the connection they shared. But duty soon called again, and he let out a quiet sigh as he looked at the evidence in front of him.

"We need to find her, Wriothesley," Neuvillette said, his tone serious once more. "Furina's disappearance is no coincidence. Something is happening, and we need to be ready."

Wriothesley nodded, his expression turning serious as well. "Then let's get to work then."

"Let's begin," Neuvillette said, his voice steady once more.

And together, they would. Even if it meant risking their own lives and the lives of others, to return the archon back to her throne of justice.

......................
HELLO!!! IM SO SORRY FOR THE CONSTANT DELAYS!!! I PROMISE! ILL BE POSTING MORE AFTER MY TRIP!!! <3!! Ty for over 270+ reads im highly grateful! Again sorry for the late update! Love you lake Lillies<3!

-Lady Furina De Fontaine~