Chapter Text
Odile knew she had erred irrevocably when the words left her mouth, and she had to wonder at how she ever thought this was a good idea. This had only ever been meant to be a kick in the ass for Isabeau – a demonstration. She had been so sure that Siffrin had feelings for the man, despite their complete obliviousness to his painfully obvious crush. She'd have bet her life savings on it. If she had suspected for even a moment that Siffrin had felt anything for her, even the most innocent inkling of a crush, the kind some of her students sometimes developed, she'd never have gone through with this. But she had, and now they were looking at her with a terrifying mixture of emotions on their face. They were taking her far too seriously. She could only stand there, horrified and rooted to the spot, as she waited for their response.
“You... love me?” Siffrin said slowly, feeling out the words in his mouth, like they tasted unfamiliar and he couldn't quite place where he'd heard them before.
No! Odile wanted to shout. She wanted to stop this absolute wreck of a conversation from going any further. Before he got even more hurt than he already was going to be. But she couldn't say that, because Siffrin had just shattered any understanding of them that she thought she had. With absolute, foolish confidence, she had believed they'd reject her confession. Maybe even laugh at it. It would be nothing more than a joke between them.
She had been wrong and Odile loathed being wrong. She'd missed something and took a risk that frankly wasn't worth it in the end. They sounded disbelieving, almost shocked at the idea, and Odile supposed that made sense – why would they expect a confession from her, of all people? The very thought was preposterous. She was easily more than twice their age. It wasn't as if she didn't know the impression she gave off sometimes, either. She knew she wasn't always the warmest person or very good at opening up to others. Most of the time, that didn't impede her too much. Except that if she was better at understanding feelings, maybe she would have seen this coming and avoided it more deftly.
The most frustrating part was that her own feelings were a bit of a mess. It wasn't that she didn't love Siffrin; she loved him fiercely in a way that scared her a bit sometimes.
Odile knew what history did to heroes. As time passed, their little group's edges would be shaved off until they were indistinguishable from even one another. They'd be noble and pure-hearted and uncomplicatedly good. She was smart enough to know she was none of those things. A good, noble person wouldn't be willing to do the things she'd do for Siffrin, or any of her... party members? Friends? Whatever they were to her, she'd do some damn-near villainous things to ensure they survived this Curse. She couldn't remember the last time she'd loved anyone like that, if she ever had.
So the problem wasn't that she didn't love them, because she did. She loved them for their stupid puns, their quiet company when they weren't making said stupid puns, for their cleverness. For the way they had thrown themselves between Boniface and a Sadness without hesitation. For the way they never seemed to regret that decision for a moment. Siffrin loved wholeheartedly, and she didn't want him to think he was unloved. She rarely felt the need to say these things aloud, but maybe it was foolish to keep those feelings to herself. Gems, it was worse than that – it was pure cowardice. Admitting that she loved these people and that she would be sorry to say goodbye scared her. She hated to be a coward. He was staring at her, waiting for an answer to his question.
Her face warmed considerably and she felt a tightness in her chest. It was embarrassing to say what she was feeling, and she didn't know how to say it in a way that didn't give the wrong impression. “Of course I do.”
Not in the way I presented it just now, but that doesn't mean I love you less... But she'd hesitated too long after she'd made her initial statement. Siffrin's cheeks had gone dark in a truly spectacular blush, and he retreated under his hat, mumbling to himself in the self-soothing way he sometimes did.
Across the room, she made panicked eye contact with Isabeau. He was watching the two of them talk with an alarmed expression. He was too far to hear, but he could tell something had gone terribly wrong. He sauntered over, trying and failing to look casual.
Siffrin's shoulders relaxed just a little, and they continued to stare at her, a look of relief and cautious hope on their face. No, no, no! Do NOT look at me like that!
“Hey, Sif, M'dame, how are we doing tonight?” Though he addressed both of them, his gaze lingered on Odile. She heard the uncertainty in his voice and winced. “Everything alright?”
Siffrin nodded. “I... think so. I think I need to get some air.”
“Oh, of course! Yeah, just don't stay out too late. We need all our energy to fight the King tomorrow!” Isabeau shot Siffrin a blindingly bright smile, which the other was too dazed to respond to, wandering off and out of the Clocktower. Once they were gone, Isabeau looked at her with a baffled expression. “Were they that surprised when you confessed? I mean, don't get me wrong. I'd be surprised if you confessed your love to me out of nowhere too, but they looked pretty out of it.”
Odile fought the urge to cover her face with her hands from the embarrassment. She cleared her throat awkwardly. “I may have... miscalculated.”
Isabeau paled. “Did he react... badly? Was he upset by it?”
“I... cannot be sure yet. I'm afraid he has taken it more seriously than I thought he would.” She couldn't look Isabeau in the eyes as she said this, and she felt her cheeks warming again. If it wasn't Siffrin, she might have been amused by how starstruck they'd been.
Isabeau's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. “M'dame Odile, you're blushing!”
“I am not,” she insisted. She was embarrassed by her misstep, but she was certainly not blushing over Siffrin.
Mirabelle and Boniface looked up from where they'd been getting ready for bed. She inhaled sharply – she'd been too loud just now. Mirabelle blinked innocently at her. “Is everything alright, Madame?”
“Yes,” she replied stiffly. “Everything is fine. I'm going to get ready for bed now.”
***
Odile was never smoking with Isabeau again. That was what had gotten her into this ridiculous situation. She'd been watching Isabeau dance around his crush on Siffrin for months, chickening out of telling him again and again. It was sad at this point. She might not be a romantic, but she hated to see the man miss his chance.
If only she'd left it alone. It hadn't been her business, and it was hardly like they would never speak to each other again. But the solution had seemed so clear that she'd felt the need to intervene and prompt the two of them into action. It had to be Isabeau, because Siffrin was completely oblivious. So a few nights before they'd arrived in Dormont, she'd brought it up while the two of them were smoking behind the inn.
“This crush of yours is getting ridiculous, don't you think?” she'd told him leaning back against the wall of the inn. “You're so obvious about that I can't believe he doesn't know already. You might as well tell him and be done with it.”
“Wh-what? I don't--” Isabeau broke off, shoulders drooping in defeat. “I guess nothing gets past you, M'dame Odile. I can't just tell them, though. It's not that easy. What if they don't love me like that and they think I'm weird? What if they don't want to be friends anymore? What if they're grossed out by me? It's scary!”
Odile raised an eyebrow. “Scarier than never knowing how they feel? You could let the feelings wither away on their own, sure, but then you might find out one day that Siffrin felt that way about you too.”
Isabeau made a low, distressed noise. “I know... It's hard, though.”
“I could demonstrate how easy it is,” she teased. “I'll confess to Siffrin--”
“M'DAME?!?!” Isabeau choked out, interrupting her.
“Oh, relax, Isabeau.” She rolled her eyes. “It's not like either of us actually have feelings for the other. I'm sure he'll think it's funny once I explain it to him.”
He rubbed his arm and chuckled awkwardly. “I don't know, M'dame, seems like a bad idea to me...”
Isabeau had been right. It was too easy to make a confession that she didn't really mean, and she'd been so confident in her ability to read people that she overlooked something. Odile groaned in frustration as she slipped off her kimono. People had had crushes on her before, so it wasn't something she was oblivious to. She knew she was reasonably attractive, and she'd had more than a few students making eyes at her in class. It was always annoying.
So, what had she missed? She reviewed Siffrin's recent behavior.
The flower, perhaps? She hadn't thought much of it when Siffrin gave it to her. It was a sweet gesture, and she'd thought about teasing Isabeau with it at some point, but it had never occurred to her to take it as romantic. Siffrin was a weird kid, and they had been acting extra weird and clingy all day. She assumed they were giving tokens to everyone, but were they?
Then they had helped her with the familytale, but she knew for a fact that they had spent the day helping everyone. But then, she'd thought it odd that they almost seemed to know exactly what she was looking for even as they asked. There was no way Siffrin just happened to know where to find a familytale of a recently deceased family. How could they have known? She thought back to all the times they'd stopped in bookshops, libraries, and antique stores on their journey. Odile had made a point to check if there were any familytales at each of these places. Siffrin tagged along with her sometimes. Had they noticed, despite her attempts to be subtle? She couldn't imagine they paid that much attention to her, but then how else could they have known?
It was flattering, but... Odile sighed and unbuttoned her shirt collar. She would need to deal with this. Usually, she just ignored it, and eventually the other person picked up on her disinterest and moved on. That wasn't an option now. Not only had she failed to notice it, she'd encouraged it. Her second option was talking about it, but how was she supposed to start that conversation? Hey, sorry, I confessed to you because Isabeau likes you and I thought it would make him tell you. She scoffed.
She returned to the main area, before seeing Isabeau and immediately excusing herself to get some air. If she caught Siffrin on his way back, she could just explain everything. She pulled her kimono back on over her undershirt and went back outside.
It was cool outside, just enough to be a little uncomfortable. Odile rubbed her arms and pressed against the wall to avoid the wind chill. She wished she was still wearing her long sleeves.
Siffrin took his time returning. He was no longer in shock from her confession; in its place was a tense wariness. Wordlessly, he took a seat beside her, leaning against the outer walls of the Clocktower. Before she could speak, he surprised her by scooting just a bit closer. Not much, but now his knees and shoulders were just barely touching her. He stared intently at the place where they made contact, like he was half-expecting something to happen.
Odile cleared her throat after the silence stretched on just a little too long to be comfortable. “Siffrin?”
They nearly jumped out of their skin at her voice, his eye wide with surprise, pupils dilated. Their eye really was quite pretty, when they weren't hiding it behind their bangs and the brim of their hat.
She pursed her lips. Was she really having that thought? Isabeau was getting in her head. A little softer, she said, “Siffrin?”
“Odile.” They paused, then very hesitantly asked, “After we defeat the King... do you think... I could come with you? To Ka Bue?”
“If that's... what you want,” she replied, a little uncertainly. The idea wasn't terrible. She'd been thinking for a while that she'd like to continue traveling with her companions under less distressing circumstances. She wasn't sure this counted. Something about the way they asked felt too desperate. Do they feel like they have to say yes to me, because they think I'm in love with them or something? Odile couldn't remember them ever suggesting this before or even hinting that it was something they wanted. Concerned, she asked, “Do you want to travel with me because of what I said earlier?”
"I-- No, I mean, I wanted--" Siffrin's shoulders tensed, and she could see panic start to set in as they tried to answer the question.
She opened her mouth to say something, only to be hit with a sudden splitting headache and the smell of burnt sugar. “Sif--”
“--frin?” she said, a little softer to avoid startling them again. They already looked shaken.
“Odile.” They paused, then said, voice trembling, “When you said you loved me—”
They broke off, taking a deep breath in and out. Then another.
She squirmed. This... was not fun. There was a reason she didn't like doing any of this.. romantic nonsense. If there was a way to undo what she'd said, she'd do it. She wished Isabeau were here; she was wholly unequipped for this emotional breakdown. But she'd made this bed, so she supposed she'd have to lie in it. For now, at least.
“I don't think you would, if you knew—” Siffrin broke off again. “I'm—”
“Lovable,” Odile said firmly, putting an end to whatever pity party he was about to throw. She was a little offended at someone half her age telling her what she should feel. “You're extremely lovable, Siffrin. Don't make me say that again. Please.”
It was a little cute how he retreated under his hat like a scared little animal at even the most bluntly delivered praise. She reached out unthinkingly and mussed his hair, only to falter when she remembered it was Siffrin. She started to retract her hand with the intention of apologizing.
They didn't flinch at the touch like they usually did. Instead, they tensed when she pulled back, gaze following her hand longingly.
Odile glanced at the ground, a little embarrassed at how long this had gone on. There was no use wishing she hadn't done it anymore. That ship had sailed. But she should have told them the truth by now. She didn't even know why she was procrastinating it herself; the longer she waited, the worse it would be.
Yet now didn't feel like the right time. They had a big day ahead of them tomorrow, didn't they? It was better everyone was well-rested and not emotionally crushed. She could explain after they defeated the King. Victory would soften the blow. “Let's table this, shall we? We can't even be sure we'll survive tomorrow, so there's no point in worrying ourselves about the future yet.”
“I won't let you die tomorrow, Odile.”
She barked out a laugh at how corny that line was – though Isabeau probably would have swooned over how “cool” Siffrin looked – but it died in her throat at Siffrin's expression. He looked somewhere between stricken and determined, and she turned away, embarrassed. “Don't look at me like that. It's gross.”
He flinched, and she regretted what she had said.
“Fine. We won't die tomorrow,” she relented. “But we're still tabling our discussion. I don't think either of us is in a place to have this conversation right now.”
Siffrin nodded, but it felt like they had half-checked out of the conversation already. They were staring at the House in the distance with a look of dread. Odile risked reaching out again and squeezed their shoulder. This time, they flinched, but before she could move away, they melted into the touch. She had thought for months now that Siffrin hated physical contact and had carefully avoided it along with the others. Perhaps she'd been wrong about that as well.
Very slowly, she slid her hand along his shoulders and rested it on his other arm. Odile wasn't one for hugs herself, but it seemed like Siffrin needed one right now. They leaned into the hug, resting their head on her shoulder. After a few moments, she felt something warm and damp through the fabric of her kimono and heard quiet, muffled sobs.
Part of her wanted to go back inside and get Mirabelle or Isabeau, but she couldn't do that without leaving Siffrin alone. That didn't feel like a good idea right now. So she held them while they cried into her shoulder and clung to her with the desperation of a drowning man. It was awkward, and she had no clue what to do. She patted their shoulder with a quiet "there, there," under her breath, but they continued to hold on, unable to calm themselves. She felt a pinprick of guilt. Siffrin was a quiet person, and he'd never spoken much of where he was from or who he'd left behind. Perhaps he was like Boniface and had family somewhere out there, frozen in time. There was the loss of his eye, which was really rather recent. Maybe she could forgive herself for missing the crush, but this was worse than that. Odile had had no idea that her friend was struggling so much on his own. “Siffrin? You know you can talk to us, right?”
They just clung tighter, gloved fingers digging into her arm.
She winced and tried to pull away. “Ow! Siffrin, let go!”
Siffrin sprung out of her arms, face tear-stained and panicked. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! I didn't mean to!”
“It's okay, just – ouch!” She gripped her head. Suddenly, she smelt burnt sugar and had the panicked thought that she was having a stroke.
Siffrin leaned into the half-hug resting his head on her shoulder, seeming utterly drained. They sat there for a few minutes in the quiet. His hat had fallen off and she could feel his soft hair against her cheek. The warmth against her side was nice against the chill. She could hear his soft, deep breathing and her hand absently circled his shoulder. “Siffrin, I don't know what you're going through right now, but...”
She should offer to let him talk, but she wasn't the best person to do that. She'd never liked having these kinds of talks. They just seemed so unnecessary. Was this as sudden as it seemed, or had this breakdown been building up for a while? Her understanding of Siffrin was a little shaken. She had thought she'd had them figured out. They weren't the cool, mysterious traveler people seemed to think they were. They were more like a shy stray kitten.
That was still true, she thought, but she'd overlooked some things. This afternoon, she'd seen something like nostalgia on their face when they spoke of their home. Sadder, and heavier than nostalgia though. It was a grief that she was very familiar with. She'd never realized how alike they were, because she'd never asked. Both of them were very private people, and while they got on well, they would probably never become friends on their own. They weren't the sharing sort.
Odile didn't finish her sentence. Instead she squeezed their shoulder in a silent reminder. I'm here.
Siffrin's breathing had evened out to a steady rhythm. She couldn't see his face because he'd buried it in the crook of her neck, but she could feel the fluttering of his eyelashes. Had he fallen asleep on her? She needed to wake him up, so they could both go inside.
There was a strangled gasp just then, and she craned her head to make startled eye contact with Isabeau. It was only then that she realized she'd forgotten the guilt she'd felt earlier, because it was back now in full force. She opened her mouth. To say what, she didn't know.
Isabeau's eyes dropped to Siffrin, and his face softened. His voiced was subdued when he whispered, “Sorry. I was just... checking on you guys. Take your time.”
The door closed and he was gone. Odile gently shook Siffrin awake and suggested they go back into the Clocktower. They opened their eye so blearily that she felt bad for waking them up. She couldn't carry them in herself though. They weren't very heavy, but she'd probably throw out her back trying.
When they re-entered the Clocktower, everyone turned to look at them. Only the adults seemed to have an idea of what was going on, since Boniface quickly returned to their work of packing snacks for tomorrow. Isabeau quickly looked away, and Mirabelle beamed brightly at them. Siffrin shuffled over to the bed that he and Isabeau had agreed to share before she'd made her pretend confession.
“Oh, Sif, buddy, you don't... you still want to share with me?” Isabeau's voice was strained and a little confused.
Siffrin stared at him, baffled. “Yes? Odile gets her own bed, Mira and Bonnie share one, and we share the other. That's how we've always done it.”
Odile was relieved they didn't want to crawl into bed with her just yet. She would've had to put a stop to that. They might be cute for a kid, but she wasn't interested in cramming them into the tiny bed with her.
“You're sure you don't want me to sleep on the floor or something?” Isabeau said disbelievingly. His gaze darted to Odile, and she shrugged.
“Of course not,” Siffrin repeated, looking upset. “Why would I want that?”
When Isabeau didn't immediately respond, Siffrin firmly said, “This is how it always goes.”
Boniface glanced up, brow furrowed. “Are you guys fighting or something?”
“Are you?” Mirabelle glanced between them. “Everything seemed fine at dinner. Did something happen?”
As Isabeau tried to reassure Mirabelle and Boniface that everything was fine, Odile turned to Siffrin and frowned. His arms were crossed and his shoulder's hunched forward. She started to reach for him--
When they re-entered the Clocktower, everyone turned to look at them. Only the adults seemed to have an idea of what was going on, since Boniface quickly returned to their work of packing snacks for tomorrow. Isabeau quickly looked away, and Mirabelle beamed brightly at them. Siffrin smiled in way that seemed fake. Like he was hiding something. “We should do something different tonight. Bonnie, do you want to swap beds?”
“Like, I share with 'Za and you share with 'Belle?” Boniface glanced between the adults, then said, “Sure, if you want.”
Isabeau looked both hurt and relieved, and she moved to pat him on the shoulder before stopping herself. She was probably the last person he wanted comfort from right now. And the only person who already knew what was going on. She pursed her lips. This... was a problem.
“'Za?” Boniface poked at Isabeau. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine, Bonbon,” he reassured them with a bright smile. Nudging them playfully, he added, “But you better not snore or I'm kicking you out!”
“I don't snore!” they protested indignantly. “'Belle, tell him!”
Mirabelle laughed and hugged Boniface. “Nope, they don't snore at all!”
They turned to Isabeau triumphantly. “Told you so!”
The rest of the night went smoothly from there, and they all went to bed. Everyone slept soundly until morning.
Odile could not shake the feeling that something very strange was happening. And she was going to figure it out.