Day 1
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Day one without Furina unfolded like a slow-motion nightmare for Neuvillette. He'd barely slept, his night spent pacing the labyrinthine hallways of the Opera Epiclese, glancing at every shadow and corner in the vain hope that she'd simply appear, smirking with some half-formed excuse about how he'd worried too much. Yet with every passing hour, the hallways felt colder and emptier, and as dawn began to creep in through the tall, arched windows, his hope dimmed.

Seated in his office, his desk buried under a landslide of paperwork, Neuvillette tried to think logically, to focus, to approach her absence with the rationality that had always been his strength. But it was useless. Each report was another reminder that she was missing, and his mind kept returning to questions he couldn't answer: Where could she be? Why did she disappear without a word? Every theory felt thin, shallow, inadequate. His hand shook slightly as he held his quill, and with a frustrated sigh, he set it down, abandoning his attempt at work.

Around him, the room bore signs of his struggle. Documents and records were scattered across his desk and floor, hastily flipped through and abandoned. His quill, typically resting in its proper stand, lay discarded on a half-filled report, and an ink blot stained the edge of his desk. The meticulous order that usually defined his space had fractured under his worry. As the hours ticked by, the weight in his chest grew heavier, his heart an anchor sinking deeper into the cold waters of dread. He had never felt so helpless.

Outside, rain began to fall, first as a fine mist before quickly escalating into a downpour. Raindrops pounded against the tall, arched windows, casting blurred, trembling shadows on the walls. The sound was relentless, each droplet echoing the pulse of his worry. Normally, Neuvillette would calm himself, draw his power back into balance, but today he let it rain. The Hydro Dragon within him grieved her absence openly, recognizing his pain in a way he could not control nor quiet.

Just past midday, a quiet knock sounded on his door. He looked up, and Wriothesley stepped in, moving with a calm, grounded presence that stood in stark contrast to Neuvillette's turmoil. Wriothesley took in the sight before him—the disarray, the tense set of Neuvillette's shoulders, the haunted look in his eyes.

Wriothesley watched him from the doorway for a moment, his own expression softer than usual, concern evident in his eyes. Without a word, he closed the door and crossed the room, placing a firm hand on Neuvillette's shoulder, his grip warm and steady. "We'll get through this together," he murmured, a warmth in his tone as he slid into the seat beside Neuvillette. "Let's take it one step at a time. I'm here with you."

Neuvillette took a shaky breath, nodding as Wriothesley's words steadied him. Wriothesley began picking up the scattered papers, organizing them carefully, his calm presence grounding Neuvillette as they sorted through each one. For every missed detail or unclear report, Wriothesley offered quiet, reassuring insights, his focus unwavering. As the minutes slipped by, Neuvillette felt his panic ease just enough to refocus, the rain outside softening to a steady patter.

The hours passed in quiet partnership, the two of them working through each document meticulously. Neuvillette traced over each line of text as if it might hold the answer, eyes sharp but shadowed, his mind racing with possible scenarios. Every so often, his hand would start to shake, and Wriothesley would reach over, grounding him with a squeeze, wordlessly reminding him that he wasn't alone.

Neuvillette's shoulders sagged under Wriothesley's hand, his gaze drifting to the storm outside, the rain pouring in torrents down the glass. "It's the not knowing," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not knowing if she's safe or... if she needed me and I wasn't there."

Wriothesley stepped closer, his hand moving gently from Neuvillette's shoulder to his cheek, turning his face so their eyes met. "You've done everything you could. Fontaine itself is searching for her. And I'm here. We'll find her, love...."

The steady comfort in Wriothesley's eyes, his warmth, began to chip away at the fear weighing down Neuvillette's heart. Wriothesley leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Neuvillette's forehead, his touch anchoring him against the swirling storm within.

In that moment, Neuvillette allowed himself to relax, leaning into Wriothesley's embrace, drawing strength from his calm presence. He closed his eyes briefly, listening to the steady rhythm of Wriothesley's heartbeat, grounding himself in the here and now, letting the frantic thoughts ease just slightly.

After a pause, Neuvillette took a deep breath and straightened, his shoulders set with a renewed sense of purpose. He looked at Wriothesley, a faint smile touching his lips, though his worry had not left entirely. "You're right," he murmured, the weight in his voice lifting. "This city needs us both. I can't allow myself to fall apart."

Wriothesley returned the smile, his thumb tracing Neuvillette's cheek before letting his hand drop.

Neuvillette managed a small nod, his eyes steeling with the determination to find her. For the first time that day, he felt a flicker of hope, a resolve to keep going. With Wriothesley by his side, he would endure the rain, the uncertainty, the fear.

When dusk began to settle, Wriothesley leaned back and gently brushed a strand of hair from Neuvillette's forehead, his touch soft. "You need a break," he whispered, his hand lingering for a moment before offering Neuvillette a glass of water. "This isn't something we can rush. We'll find her, Neuvillette."

Wriothesley guided Neuvillette to sit down, his hand firm but gentle on his shoulders. "First," he said, picking up one of the files that had slipped to the floor, "we'll go through each clue methodically. We're going to comb through everything we have until we see something—anything—that might lead us to her."

Neuvillette accepted the glass, his gaze distant as he stared down at the files. "I just... she's out there somewhere. Scared, perhaps hurt. Every moment we delay, the distance grows." His voice was barely above a whisper, the weight of his worry sinking into his words.

Wriothesley listened, his heart tightening at the sight of his usually composed husband unraveling. He wrapped an arm around Neuvillette's shoulders, pulling him close in a rare, unguarded gesture. Neuvillette leaned into him, feeling the warmth and solidity of Wriothesley's presence, allowing himself a brief moment to close his eyes and simply breathe.

Neuvillette nodded, grateful for Wriothesley's practical calmness as they sifted through the papers together. Each one, once hastily discarded in Neuvillette's earlier panic, now became a piece of a puzzle they had to solve. They read through reports from Fontaine's guards, records of Furina's last known activities, and any correspondences that hinted at her location. The rain continued outside, drumming steadily, its rhythm grounding Neuvillette as he combed through each word, hoping to catch something he'd previously missed.

At times, he'd feel the tendrils of dread clutch his chest again, his hands trembling slightly as he held a document, but Wriothesley would reach over, his hand warm and grounding, and gently squeeze his shoulder. "Breathe," he'd murmur, reminding Neuvillette that he wasn't alone. And in those small reassurances, Neuvillette found his strength renewed, his focus sharpened.

Hours passed, daylight beginning to fade as the rain showed no signs of stopping. They'd covered nearly every lead with little luck, but neither of them voiced the exhaustion they felt. Wriothesley made sure Neuvillette drank some water and took small breaks, but even he could see the weight of worry pressing heavily on Neuvillette's usually serene features.

Finally, as dusk crept in, a faint knock sounded at the door. A guard entered, bowing respectfully before holding out a thin envelope. "This came through official channels just moments ago," the guard explained. "It's a report—someone said they spotted Lady Furina near the southern harbor late last night."

Neuvillette's eyes snapped to the guard, a spark of hope lighting in his gaze as he took the envelope, hands almost too eager. He tore it open and scanned the contents quickly. The details were vague, mentioning only a figure that matched Furina's description seen near the docks. There was no confirmation, but it was the first solid lead they'd had all day.

He turned to Wriothesley, the urgency in his voice palpable. "We should investigate immediately. I can't—if it's really her, we can't waste a moment."

Without hesitation, Wriothesley nodded. "I'll arrange everything. We'll take a few guards, and we'll search every corner of that harbor if we have to." He placed a steadying hand on Neuvillette's arm, his voice unwavering. "We'll find her."

Neuvillette's eyes snapped to the guard, a spark of hope lighting in his gaze as he took the envelope, hands almost too eager. He tore it open and scanned the contents quickly. The details were vague, mentioning only a figure that matched Furina's description seen near the docks. There was no confirmation, but it was the first solid lead they'd had all day.

He turned to Wriothesley, the urgency in his voice palpable. "We should investigate immediately. I can't—if it's really her, we can't waste a moment."

Wriothesley nodded, his face serious. "Let's go. I'll have transportation arranged, and we'll take a few guards for support."

Neuvillette stood, his posture more composed but his heart hammering with renewed energy. He slipped on his coat, barely pausing to grab what he needed before following Wriothesley out. They gathered their things and moved swiftly through the halls, side by side, their steps echoing in the dim light. Together, they moved through the halls, their footsteps echoing as they made their way to the main entrance.

"We'll bring her back, Neuvillette," Wriothesley promised, his voice low and certain.

Neuvillette nodded, his resolve deepening. With Wriothesley by his side, he felt as if he could face any storm. They were going to find her. They had to.

As they stepped into the cold mysterious night air, the rain, which had softened to a drizzle, began to pick up again. Neuvillette looked up at the cloudy sky, feeling the weight of his emotions mirrored in the shifting weather.

The rain had subsided to a light drizzle, the city washed in the cool, quiet calm of evening. As they stepped outside, Wriothesley reached over, his fingers finding Neuvillette's cheek as he placed a small kiss on his pink lips. Returning the kiss, Neuvillette looked up, meeting his husband's steady gaze.

A hand slipped into his, and he glanced over to see Wriothesley's steady gaze. Their rings glistened under the shine of the shine of the rain,as the drop lets rolled off their matching stones.

"Remember," Wriothesley said softly, pulling Neuvillette close, "you're not facing this alone." His hand lingered, his thumb brushing gently over Neuvillette's as if to emphasize the promise in his words. "No matter what happens, we'll get through it together."

Neuvillette's lips curved into a small, grateful smile, his fingers tightening around Wriothesley's as he took a deep breath. With his husband by his side, he felt his determination grow.

..........................

Furina's eyes fluttered open to the dim light filtering through a single, small window high on the wall. The room was sparse—gray walls, bare floors, and a single unremarkable bed on which she lay. She groaned, her wrists and ankles ached from where the ropes had held her hours earlier, as she sat up slowly, pressing a hand to her head as the room came into sharper focus. As she sat up, disoriented, she noticed her surroundings lacked any warmth or familiarity.

She wasn't bound to a chair like she remembered, but lying on a plain bed. The silence was heavy, oppressive, broken only by her own uneven breathing.

Just as the initial confusion subsided, the door creaked open, and a figure stepped in—a shadow cast against the faint light. Furina's breath caught as Arlecchino entered, her presence immediately filling the room with a quiet menace. Her gaze was steady, penetrating, a hint of amusement glimmering in her dark eyes. She closed the door with a soft click, her footsteps barely making a sound as she approached. Everything about her was composed, controlled, her every movement deliberate.

Arlecchino's lips curved into a small, unsettling smile as she took in Furina's disheveled appearance. She moved a chair from the corner of the room, pulling it up beside the bed, and lowered herself gracefully into it, crossing one leg over the other as she sat. Silence filled the space between them, thick and stifling, as Furina tried to steady her breathing, forcing herself not to flinch under the Harbinger's gaze.

"Awake at last," Arlecchino murmured, her voice soft but laced with an edge of mockery. She clasped her hands in her lap, her posture exuding a cold elegance as she looked Furina over, like a predator assessing wounded prey. "I trust you find this arrangement... preferable to the restraints?"

She pulled a chair up beside the bed and sat, crossing one leg over the other as she observed Furina with that same unreadable expression. "I trust you're feeling a bit more... comfortable now?"

Furina's hands clenched into fists at her, but she forced herself to keep her expression neutral, meeting Arlecchino's eyes with a defiance that masked her fear. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears, but she willed herself not to let it show. Every fiber of her being screamed to stay strong, to not let this woman see her crumble.

Arlecchino's smile grew as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her face now inches from Furina's. "Such fire in those eyes," she mused, her voice dropping to a murmur. She reached out, her gloved fingers brushing a lock of Furina's hair back behind her ear with a disturbingly gentle touch. Her fingers trailed down to Furina's chin, tilting it up so she could study her face more closely.

"No need to be so quiet, Lady Furina," Arlecchino purred, a mocking warmth coloring her tone. "You've made things very interesting, you know. Fontaine's Archon, disappearing without a trace... surely you must have known that wouldn't go unnoticed." She smiled, her grip tightening.

"You've made things very interesting, you know. All these little secrets you've been keeping from us."

Furina tried to pull her chin from Arlecchino's grip, but the Harbinger's hold was unyielding. Her thumb brushed along Furina's jaw, the pressure firm enough to be a warning. The glint in her eyes hardened,a dark amusement as she continued, her voice soft yet laced with a deadly edge.

"You're a very valuable woman, you know," Arlecchino whispered, her fingers tracing along Furina's cheek, a caress that felt as cold as steel. "But you've been keeping secrets from us, haven't you?"

Furina's defiance faltered, a flicker of fear crossing her face before she managed to hide it. The silence stretched as Arlecchino's gaze bore into her, as if waiting for her to crack. But Furina's lips remained pressed in a thin line, her mind racing through her options. The truth was too dangerous, too compromising. But here, in the clutches of The Knave, silence felt equally perilous.

Furina's breath hitched, but she met Arlecchino's gaze head-on, refusing to look away. Her silence seemed to amuse the Harbinger, who released her chin and sat back, watching her with a dark, knowing smile.

Arlecchino's smile didn't waver as she released her grip on Furina's chin, leaning back in her chair with an air of satisfaction. "Such resolve," she remarked with a low chuckle. "I wonder how long that will last."

She shifted her gaze to the whiskey glass on a nearby table. Lifting it to her lips, she took a slow sip, savoring the taste, her eyes never leaving Furina's. The room felt colder, the air thick with unspoken threats. Finally, Arlecchino placed the glass back down and fixed Furina with a calculating stare.

"Now," she began, her tone soft yet steely, "you're going to tell me everything you know about your little secrets. No more games." Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned in close, so close that Furina could feel her breath, hear the low hum of her voice.

"Make it easy on yourself," Arlecchino murmured, her voice a soft, insidious whisper. She reached down, fingers trailing along the edge of a small dagger resting at her hip. The blade gleamed as she lifted it, its edge sharp and deadly, reflecting a glint of light as she turned it in her hand. "Or we can see just how strong that resolve of yours really is."

Furina's breath hitched as the dagger's tip traced a slow, deliberate path across her collarbone, just light enough to prick the skin. Her pulse raced, fear clawing its way up her throat, but she forced herself to keep her gaze steady, even as her mind screamed at her to run, to escape this nightmare.

Arlecchino's smile widened, as if pleased by the reaction. She leaned back slightly, letting the dagger rest in her hand as she watched Furina, her gaze cold and unyielding.

"Well, that wasn't as hard as you thought, was it?" She smiled.

"Take your time," Arlecchino murmured. "But do know, patience isn't something I'm known for. Not even with you, dew drop..."

An hour had passed ,and Arlecchino had left during that time , as a Fatui guard had come to escort Furina to a different room. As they walked the halls,Furina found the building to be rather dull and abandoned; the perfect place to set up a mafia base. They began to make their way to a nicer part of the building, more heavily guarded than the section Furina was held in. The Fatui member opened the door, slightly pushing Furina in as she gazed on The 4th Fatui Harbinger ,who sat on a couch.

Arlecchino lounged comfortably across the plush armchair in the dimly lit room, her eyes glinting with mischief as she watched Furina standing stiffly nearby, trying—and failing—to mask her unease. The atmosphere was heavy, laced with an unsettling tension that seemed to coil tighter with each passing second. Arlecchino's smirk widened as she took a slow sip from her whiskey, savoring the rich taste before setting the glass down with a soft clink.

"Why so tense, my dear Archon?" Arlecchino purred, her voice dripping with amusement as she tilted her head, letting her gaze sweep lazily over Furina from head to toe. "I thought we were friends... or maybe something more."

Furina shifted uncomfortably, folding her arms over her chest, her gaze darting around the room to avoid Arlecchino's penetrating stare. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and it unnerved her to be under the scrutiny of someone as calculating as The Knave. But Arlecchino seemed to thrive on her discomfort, leaning forward with a predatory glint in her eyes.

"Come now, don't be shy." Arlecchino's voice softened as she rose gracefully from her chair, moving towards Furina with slow, deliberate steps. "No need to be so formal. After all, we've spent plenty of time together, haven't we?" She extended a black-stained hand, tracing a feather-light touch along Furina's shoulder, letting it linger there with a casual intimacy that sent a chill down the Archon's spine.

Furina swallowed hard, feeling her heartbeat quicken as Arlecchino's fingers trailed a slow path down her arm, pausing just before reaching her hand. Arlecchino's gaze held hers, sharp and unyielding, as if she could see through every carefully constructed layer of composure Furina tried to maintain.

"Tell me," Arlecchino murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she leaned in, close enough that Furina could feel her breath against her cheek. "Do you always look this enchanting when you're troubled? Or is it just for me?"

Furina felt a blush rise to her cheeks, an unbidden reaction that she tried to hide by looking away, but Arlecchino was relentless, one hand reaching up to gently turn her face back towards her. The Knave's thumb brushed over Furina's cheek, a fleeting, gentle touch that belied the sharpness of her gaze.

"Don't hide from me," Arlecchino whispered, her voice like silk and steel intertwined, firm yet coaxing. "I've always found your honesty... refreshing."

Furina's mouth went dry as she struggled to find a response, but Arlecchino didn't give her a chance to speak. Instead, she traced a line from Furina's cheek down to her jaw, letting her fingers linger there for a tantalizing moment before stepping back, her smirk deepening as she observed the effect she had.

With a slight tilt of her head, Arlecchino settled back into her armchair, her eyes never leaving Furina. She stretched her arms along the armrests, as though she were a queen observing her subject, her expression daring Furina to react.

"Why so quiet, darling?" Arlecchino drawled, one brow raised in mock curiosity. "I thought an Archon would have more to say."

Furina's eyes narrowed, a flash of defiance surfacing despite her unease. "I am not here for your amusement, Knave..," she replied, her voice shaking slightly but carrying a hint of her usual authority.

Arlecchino laughed, a low, rich sound that filled the room, and she leaned back, clearly entertained by the Archon's attempt at defiance. "Oh, but you are," she murmured, her gaze unwavering as she watched Furina's every move. "And the sooner you accept it, the more... pleasurable this arrangement will be."

Furina clenched her fists at her sides, feeling the weight of Arlecchino's words settle over her like a net. She felt as if she were caught in a web, every subtle glance and touch pulling her further in, stripping away her control piece by piece. And as much as she wanted to resist, to reclaim her dignity, there was an undeniable allure in the way Arlecchino wielded her power, in the way she seemed to know exactly how to dismantle Furina's defenses with a mere glance, a whisper, a touch.

Arlecchino's gaze softened, just a fraction, as she lifted her glass once more and raised it in a silent toast, her smirk lingering as she observed Furina over the rim.

Arlecchino's movements were fluid, practiced, and effortlessly domineering as she pulled Furina closer. With one hand on her waist, she guided the Archon toward her, settling back into the plush comfort of the couch. Furina stumbled slightly before she was guided gently but firmly onto Arlecchino's lap, her body forced against the Harbinger's in a way that made her stiffen. The cool, leather-clad thigh beneath her made her tense even more, but Arlecchino paid it no mind, her hands resting casually on Furina's hips as if she owned every inch of the Archon.

Furina's face flushed a deep crimson, the color spreading across her cheeks as her body instinctively tried to pull away, but Arlecchino's grasp held her firm. Furina could feel the heat of the Harbinger's body, the undeniable weight of her presence bearing down on her, as she tried to gather herself. She could feel her heartbeat quickening, blood rushing in her ears as she sat, trapped, in the most uncomfortable position.

The Harbinger's gaze flickered up to Furina's face, and a sly, amused smile curled at the corners of her lips. She took in the sight of Furina, flushed and disoriented, the Archon's sharp features momentarily softening in her embarrassment. But Arlecchino wasn't fooled by the fragile mask that Furina attempted to maintain. There was something about her—the vulnerability, the subtle tremble in her frame—that told Arlecchino exactly how to toy with her.

Furina's arms were braced awkwardly above arlecchino ,her hands stiff as they tried to steady herself. Her body was pressed so tightly against Arlecchino's that every breath she took seemed to fill her with a combination of discomfort and heated awareness. Arlecchino could feel the tension in Furina's body, the way she struggled against the closeness, the feeling of being cornered.

But Arlecchino only smiled wider, eyes glinting with amusement. "What's this?" she teased, her voice velvety smooth, laced with playful mockery. "A little shy, are we? You don't have to be so distant, Furina. I don't bite."

Her fingers flexed on Furina's waist, her touch light yet commanding. She tilted her head, watching the Archon closely as she tried to hide her flustered state, the redness still coloring her face. Furina's body was rigid, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to maintain her composure.

Arlecchino's smile widened at the sight, her eyes trailing over Furina's delicate form as she mentally cataloged every reaction, every subtle shift. She leaned in closer, her lips barely brushing the edge of Furina's ear, her voice now a soft, almost intimate murmur.

"You're so fragile, Furina," she whispered, her words like a velvet caress. "But you're also so... enticing. I wonder, how far can I push you before you break?"

Furina shivered, her breath catching in her throat as the intimacy of the moment threatened to shatter the control she so desperately clung to. She could feel Arlecchino's fingers gently tracing small circles on her waist, each touch deliberate and calculated to make her feel both seen and helpless. The closer Arlecchino drew her in, the more Furina could feel the weight of her presence, the inescapable pull of the Harbinger's influence, making it harder and harder to resist.

As Furina sat there, helplessly pinned against the Harbinger, Arlecchino's eyes never left her, a smug, satisfied grin curling on her lips. She had won—there was no doubt about it—and as she felt the Archon's body stiffen under her touch, she couldn't help but savor the sensation.

"So tense," Arlecchino mused, her tone now light but laced with a hint of satisfaction. "You're no fun when you're like this. But don't worry. I'll get you to relax eventually. You can't resist forever."

"To us," she murmured, her voice laced with dark promise.

"Whatever that may mean..."

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IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE POST.. GUYS PLS FORGIVE ME! ITS LIEK 2 AM 😭🙏🏾I'm so sorry .. anyways! Ty for almost 200 reads! I might not post again till like...230 reads..cause like yall.. and PLSS! Share my book🙁🙏🏾pls!!

-Furina De Fontaine~!