Chapter Text
Freminet didn’t know what to make of the summons. He received an invite to the Fortress of Meropide from none other than the “Duke” himself, and after thorough discussion with his siblings, Freminet found himself returning to the city of exiles.
Of course, his brother Lyney didn’t want him to go at first. What if it was some sort of trap? His sister Lynette suggested the move was the Duke’s way of extending an olive branch. Heated discussion ensued. Freminet didn’t mind going. He’d been sent into more dangerous situations, and, from what it seemed like after all of the drama with the Traveler, the Duke wasn’t bent on hurting any of them.
No, the only thing that confused him was why he specifically was invited. The missive clearly stated that the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide requested an audience with Freminet “the diver kid who almost died but didn’t.”
What could anyone want with him?, he pondered apathetically on the way down the endless lift to the foyer of the stronghold.
“Well look who it is,” Freminet hears just as he steps out of the elevator.
The Lord himself was waiting for him at the intake desk, casually propped on its edge with a cup and saucer in his hands, decked out in his full warden’s gear, coat slung over his shoulder and signature tie haphazardly thrown on.
“Hello, Mr. Wriothesley,” Freminet squeaked. It was the first thing he’d said all day.
“Wriothesley is fine. Mr. Wriothesley is my father,” the warden replied nonchalantly.
Freminet blinked.
“Just kidding,” he set down his cup on the desk. “I don’t have a father, but that’s neither here nor there. I hope no one gave you a rough time on your way here.”
Freminet shook his head.
“Alright,” Wriothesley said after an awkward pause. “Let’s get down to business.”
Here, Freminet held his breath.
“I want to hire you,” Wriothesley says bluntly, hands spread in front of him in explanation.
Freminet did not expect this.
“I don’t… take commissions,” Freminet replies.
“Ah,” the Duke jumps in. “Just hear me out.
“I--we really need your help. And only you can do it.”
At this, Freminet allowed himself to be a tiny bit interested. Something only he could do?
Wriothesley continues, “You see, we’ve been doing our Fortress maintenance regularly every few months, right? Mostly just changing out gears for the surveillance cameras and making sure all of the airlocks still function,” Wriothesley makes a face. “But it’s about time we do a full overhaul.”
Freminet widens his eyes and slightly flinches. This sounds like a big ask.
“Don’t worry,” Wriothesley puts his hands out in a placating motion. “We’ve broken it down into smaller projects. What we really want you from you is your help mapping and updating the blueprints for the Fortress. Check that everything’s still there and stuff.”
“Umm…” Freminet starts. “I… this is a big task. I don’t know if I can be of much help. I’m just a diver, and my jobs--”
“You’re not just a diver,” the Duke interrupts. He steps closer to Freminet and intensifies the eye contact. “You are the best diver in Fontaine, hell, probably in all of Teyvat! I personally witnessed you almost dying trying to escape my Fortress.”
Freminet cringes at the reminder of his recent failure. He certainly can’t be that great of a diver if he couldn’t anticipate what he was getting into.
Wriothesley straightens up and puts a finger to his chin in a contemplative move, “Well, technically I only saw the aftermath. But I know for sure that you are the only person who can dive into the deepest and most dangerous waters. I can’t have my engineers out there amongst the elementals and crabs and whatnot.”
He looks at Freminet with what could only be puppy dog eyes--if they were coming from a full grown wolf, that is.
Freminet actually considers it. He’s spent some time in this strange, cut-off society, and, though its people are strange and a little scary, it’s still home to many people working hard to build their lives back up.
But, also, Freminet doesn’t do diving work. He strictly dives as a hobby. No, he dives for himself. He truly is a fish out of water on land.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I hope you can find someone else who can help you,” Freminet bows his head. “I have to get going, now. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”
“Wait,” Wriothesley barks out.
“There was a large possibility that you would decline, so I prepared a backup bribe,” Wriothesley grins. “As you may have noticed, there are a lot of tunnels and pathways blocked off throughout the Fortress. These are mostly parts of the building that have flooded and are uninhabitable. They’ve probably been underwater for decades. Who knows what’s even in there. Old treasures, scraps, sealife? Hell, they’ve been blocked off since before I became the Wriothesley you see here.”
Oh no, Freminet could feel his resolve weakening.
Wriothesley hits him with the final blow.
“And you’ll have free access to explore all you want,” he gives Freminet a knowing smirk. “All we need you to do is map those tunnels out. We just want a comprehensive layout with its updated conditions for future reference.”
Now, Freminet was not a particularly curious sort of guy. He liked the comfort of keeping to himself, and he never pried if it was unnecessary. But a part of the ocean he has never been to? He’s scoured the entirety of Fontaines blessed waters, and there are very few places he hasn’t touched. His imagination runs wild with secret caverns and ancient ruins and buried treasure (old materials he could tinker with).
He doesn’t realize he has blanked out staring at Wriothesley’s face.
“Um, ground control to Freminet,” Wriothesley waves a hand in front of his face.
“Haha,” Wriothesley chuckles. “Are you blushing?”
Freminet was, in fact, blushing from embarrassment at being read so easily. And before he could think twice, he gave in to those piercing puppy eyes.
“...Okay,” he says.
“Great,” Wriothesley says. “The project is estimated to take about a week, two max. You’ll have a bunk here so you won’t have to travel up and down all the time. I mean, you can leave. But we’ll have a room set up for you.”
Wriothesley starts leading Freminet toward the dorms, the latter having to jog to catch up.
“Wait, Mister--I mean. Wriothesley,” Freminet manages. “I need to let my family…”
“Don’t worry. We can have a messenger run a letter back to them. I’ll get you a pen and paper.”
And with that, Freminet clutches Pers tightly and silently follows behind the broad shouldered warden, unsure what exactly he has gotten himself into.