Tamed || Wriothesley x Reader

Chapter 53

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"Finally."

After a long day of being out in the open, your bag weighing you down against your back and your skin glossy with sweat, you had finally found them--the gardes Wriothesley sent after you.

You had figured they would return, and that their presence would be the perfect way to get back to Fontaine. You knew you'd spent a long time here in the desert, longer than you should have, but you had to accept that no matter where you went on the face of Teyvat, that you'd always have a home here.

Home is where the heart is--and it was both here and back in Fontaine.

The troupe had wished their goodbyes and support to you, and your father had hoped that you'd spend a good amount of time back in the nation of hydro. The last person you had spoken with was Dehya, and her words were still echoing in the back of your mind.

"Don't come back too soon."

You scoffed at the memory, dropping your claymore into the sandy banks of the oasis. Ironic that the gardes had found you in the one place you wanted them to avoid.

But you had paid your respects to your mother and decorated the space, finally accepting her death and her final wish. You were going home, and soon, at that.

"There's no use in putting up a fight this time." The female garde spoke, her gun aimed at your chest. "We've come well prepared compared to our last encounter."

"Just surrender so we can get on with our lives." One male spoke, "It'll be easier for all of us."

"Besides, we've already... what are you doing?"

The three of them watched you with a suspicious look in their eyes, their guard lowering tremendously as you placed your hands up in surrender. You were never going to put up a fight with them--though the way the woman had that barrel pointed at you made it very tempting.

"I'm throwing in the towel." You said calmly, "Just get it over with."

"...R-Right..." The man stuttered, his face still etched with suspicion and disbelief. "...What are you getting at? This is a trap, isn't it? You beat us all weeks ago, only to show up and surrender? Just like that?"

"Just like that." You said, "No point in fighting if you're going to keep coming back."

"Cuff her already." The woman spoke, "It's too hot to be going back and forth with her."

"Fine." The other man grumbled, cautiously approaching you. You could tell he was tense as you watched his movements, your eyes never leaving his as he restrained your arms.

"Where's the goods?" The woman asked, hooking her gun back onto her holster once you were cuffed.

"I sold it."

The three of them appeared shocked at your revelation, sharing exchanged glances as they processed your words. "To who?"

"I'm not good with names." You spoke, "Nor do I care to tell you. It's gone, and that's all that you need to know."

You had indeed sold the ring. It made you a small fortune, not something that would sustain you for a lifetime, but enough to give to the troupe for more supplies, stability and structure.

Besides, Wriothesley owed you a new ring--one that he didn't steal.

"Come on." The man growled, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along with the other two. You bit back a snappy remark, not wanting to delay the journey ahead any further.

In about six hours, you'd be back in Fontaine.

And you'd get to see him.

— Later —

Report. Report. Report.

Wriothesley had found himself, once again, stuck in his usual mundane routine. He told himself he wouldn't trade his work for anything, but he had some occasional thoughts about what his life would be like if he had never been sent here.

Maybe he'd be a technologist, a researcher, a farmer, anything that wasn't in his current range of talents. Maybe he'd even open up his own fighting ring.

Or maybe he would have his own family, and be the parent he wished he had.

As he signed off on one of the many reports scattered across his desk, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps echoing up the stairs that stretched to his office. His ears perked up and he placed his pen down, sighing a bit as he waited for the guest to appear.

"Good evening, sir." A female garde spoke, given the usual salute. "I have good news."

Wriothesley recognized her immediately, and he could feel his heart physically stutter for a moment before he recovered with his usual stern-faced facade. "Go on."

"We've retrieved Miss Y/N and have her booked in the city's facility." She explained, "We're currently going through the process of setting her court date and-"

"No."

She flinched for a moment at his harsh tone, taken aback by his rejection. "...I'm sorry?"

"I'll be going to meet with her before the court date is set. Pause whatever it is that you're doing."

She furrowed her brows, her lips parted as she tried to find her voice. But she knew it was better than to question him, despite her curiosity and suspicions. "...Very well."

And with that, she departed from his office, leaving Wriothesley sitting at his desk, his heart thundering against his chest.

Five long months. Almost half a year since he's seen you--and now you were back.

He could barely believe it. His thoughts were clouded with a mix of emotions as he instructed a garde that he'd be going to the city on some important matters and to watch over the fortress. He felt excitement, fear, anger and denial. But most of all, he felt relief.

Relief that you'd be back in his arms once more.

His pace was quick as he strode towards the city once leaving the fortress. He couldn't waste any more time--he had already prolonged his patience enough.

The sun was setting, the stars beginning to slowly illuminate the night sky. The breeze was cool, a safe reminder that he was in the present, and that this was finally happening.

When he checked into the facility where they were keeping you, the voices of those around him went void in his mind, his gaze distant as he treaded down the hallway, all the way to the backrooms. He pushed open the door, feeling a wave of tension wash over him when he was greeted with the scent of you--something that undeniably was nothing but you.

You hadn't changed at all. From your appearance to your attitude, you were still the one he had fell for. The look in your eyes when they met his as he stood there told him everything he needed to know.

You sat with your arms crossed, one leg resting over the other, a serious yet cocky expression plastered over your face.

He almost wanted to laugh, but it was overpowered by the sense of anger he was currently feeling.

Because the only thing different about you were the many fresh scars and bruises coveting your skin.