[ Her eyes are huge, clear and distraught as she pleads with him, and he already feels sick to his stomach from having shouted at her.
As he could have always anticipated, he's helpless in the face of her desperation. His own face crumples; his heart feels as though it's cracking in half. He can't watch her be hurt on an expedition he knows she shouldn't join, but he can't stand to hurt her now, either. ]
I—
[ His own eyes sting, mirroring her distress and his own grief, never far away, at how little time they have left. But what can he do? She's Maelle, his beloved sister who's so full of mischief and life and curiosity. He can't stand to lock her in a cage to wither away. ]
...okay.
[ It comes out as defeated as he feels. She may want this, but he will never be able to be happy about it. Even as he says it, he's sure it's a mistake. ]
I can't be the one to force you into a life you hate, so... okay.
[She expects him to shut her down. Maybe simply turn around and go find Alan and have it written that she's somehow banned from all expeditions. So, when he breaks, she looks stunned. Uncertain. She won?
Yet it doesn't feel like a victory, when she looks at his face. This is no joyous occasion. Maelle's lips press together for a long moment, body still as a statue, until she lifts her arms and crosses the space between them to wrap them around him.]
I'm sorry.
[They have so little time left. She's sorry this was an argument, but there's no changing her mind.]
[ His arms go around her immediately, pulling her into him as he curves down to embrace her. No matter how fearful and angry he'd been a moment before, the way he holds her now is pure love and warmth. ]
So am I.
[ Sorry this is her decision. Sorry he can't be strong enough to force her into safety. Sorry their time is running out and there's nothing he can do about it. Sorry that, after all, it now seems she will be there to see his last moments, in whatever form they might take. ]
[She wishes this didn't hurt him so much, but it's unavoidable, isn't it? She breathes him in, cheek fitting to his shoulder as it's done countless times before.]
Every day... every hour, every minute more with you is worth whatever the price.
I still hug you after you've disappeared into your workshop for days.
[As he tirelessly works on the thing he believes will lead Expedition 33 to victory. Or, at least, pave the way for the ones that come after. She hugs him tighter, as if to prove her point.]
I'll become noseblind.
[Because they're talking about his stench and not her hair or clothes.]
[ He remembers how she'd shied from affection, wary of him and Emma; he recalls the things people had told him about her, how she was just a little... off.
You and Emma took me in and everything changed. Like night and day. And I love Emma, I do, but you're... you.
[The one she would follow around like a shadow. The one she would play and push boundaries with, just to see how much she could get away with, only to neatly stay within them because she never wanted to disappoint him.]
Someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble, too.
I can tell when you're about to do something Emma would have your head for.
[Her sixth sense. She's glad to see something other than upset on his face, though her smile is still slow and hesitant as if too much joy might make him change his mind.]
[ Gustave blows out a breath, shoulders lowering almost enough to be called a slump. ]
Let me handle Emma.
[ She'll hate it as much as he does, and she'll argue even more fervently than he had. He knows... he knows she was counting on having Maelle here when he was gone. The two of them still together, able to comfort one another. ]
[This is where she might ask him to pinky swear. However, she takes him at his word. He'll want to change his mind, but he won't.]
I've never fit in here. [Miserable, since she was born here. Just like everyone else.] I fit with you. Death comes for us all, and I... want to see what's out there before it comes for me. With you. That's not too bad, is it?
[It doesn't sound bad to her, given their circumstances. Either his expedition or her own, when she has a year left. Better it be with company she loves and loves her.]
[ He can feel a headache coming on. Maybe Lucien and Catherine would be willing to meet up with him tonight at that café in the marketplace to share a bottle of wine. Or two. ]
Maelle, I'll make sure you come if you want to, I'll help you train, I'll convince Emma... but don't ask me to feel good about this yet.
[Maelle doesn't ever think he'll be overjoyed, but she hopes he can one day understand. She doesn't see this as a sad thing. It would be sad to be left here, without him. It would be sad to spend her years wondering how he died and how far he made it. It would be sad to have nightmares about him dying frightened and alone. At least this way--
Well, it could all go terribly, but Maelle finds comfort in the fact that they'll be together.]
[Her words are quiet, but no less sure. Of course she knows.]
Sometimes I think the orphans have it easy. [They're all orphans, aren't they? Just fortunate and less fortunate.] The younger ones, anyway. They don't remember losing their parents.
[Like yours. She knows it's coming before he says it, the inevitable way he can turn anything into a way to lift her up. She smiles, appreciating where his heart is. Her voice is lighter when she next speaks despite the words.]
I can't imagine spending your last few years with an accident that needs to be fed every few hours and doesn't sleep through the night. [To Gommage tired is a terrible fate. There's no way she was anything but a mistake--three years is nothing with a baby. They were gone before she could even form memories of their faces. Maybe for the best. They likely resented her making their lives more complicated.]
And who knows? If they had me any longer, we might not have crossed paths.
[She might not have been between families, and he and Emma may not have been open to taking in a child. Maelle knows she wouldn't be anything like the person she is today without them.]
[Oh, that's not fair and he knows it. Maelle wraps her arms around herself as if she's hit with a chill, looking to Gustave with a frown.]
... your apprentices can warm my seat while I'm gone.
[Maelle knows she's not just a seat at the table. She and Emma may not be as close as her and Gustave, but she's encouraged Maelle to be herself. So, maybe she's the one to blame for this stubbornness.]
But... I'll miss her, too. She does a lot of good here.
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As he could have always anticipated, he's helpless in the face of her desperation. His own face crumples; his heart feels as though it's cracking in half. He can't watch her be hurt on an expedition he knows she shouldn't join, but he can't stand to hurt her now, either. ]
I—
[ His own eyes sting, mirroring her distress and his own grief, never far away, at how little time they have left. But what can he do? She's Maelle, his beloved sister who's so full of mischief and life and curiosity. He can't stand to lock her in a cage to wither away. ]
...okay.
[ It comes out as defeated as he feels. She may want this, but he will never be able to be happy about it. Even as he says it, he's sure it's a mistake. ]
I can't be the one to force you into a life you hate, so... okay.
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Yet it doesn't feel like a victory, when she looks at his face. This is no joyous occasion. Maelle's lips press together for a long moment, body still as a statue, until she lifts her arms and crosses the space between them to wrap them around him.]
I'm sorry.
[They have so little time left. She's sorry this was an argument, but there's no changing her mind.]
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So am I.
[ Sorry this is her decision. Sorry he can't be strong enough to force her into safety. Sorry their time is running out and there's nothing he can do about it. Sorry that, after all, it now seems she will be there to see his last moments, in whatever form they might take. ]
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Every day... every hour, every minute more with you is worth whatever the price.
[He's everything good in Lumiere.]
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[ Muffled, as he presses his face into her hair. ]
Wait until you've been camping for three weeks with no access to a hot bath.
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[As he tirelessly works on the thing he believes will lead Expedition 33 to victory. Or, at least, pave the way for the ones that come after. She hugs him tighter, as if to prove her point.]
I'll become noseblind.
[Because they're talking about his stench and not her hair or clothes.]
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You can change your mind. Right up until we leave. Okay?
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[She won't. But she'll give him that hope to console himself. That he's humoring her, and maybe one day she'll tell him what he wants to hear.]
My life before you was... it was pretty rotten, you know?
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[ He remembers how she'd shied from affection, wary of him and Emma; he recalls the things people had told him about her, how she was just a little... off.
He'd never cared, and neither had Emma. ]
I know. You had it pretty rough.
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[The one she would follow around like a shadow. The one she would play and push boundaries with, just to see how much she could get away with, only to neatly stay within them because she never wanted to disappoint him.]
Someone has to make sure you stay out of trouble, too.
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[ He pulls back enough to give her a skeptical glance. ]
You're good with your sword, but not that good.
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[Her sixth sense. She's glad to see something other than upset on his face, though her smile is still slow and hesitant as if too much joy might make him change his mind.]
... she might have both our heads for this one.
[Gustave was the easy one to convince.]
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Let me handle Emma.
[ She'll hate it as much as he does, and she'll argue even more fervently than he had. He knows... he knows she was counting on having Maelle here when he was gone. The two of them still together, able to comfort one another. ]
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[A gentle warning. He breaks easily for Maelle, but his sister might be able to bring him back to his senses.]
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[ And he'd want to let her. But— ]
But I promise I won't.
[ He takes his promises to her seriously, he always has. She'd been let down so many times before; he couldn't be the one to let her down again. ]
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I've never fit in here. [Miserable, since she was born here. Just like everyone else.] I fit with you. Death comes for us all, and I... want to see what's out there before it comes for me. With you. That's not too bad, is it?
[It doesn't sound bad to her, given their circumstances. Either his expedition or her own, when she has a year left. Better it be with company she loves and loves her.]
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Maelle, I'll make sure you come if you want to, I'll help you train, I'll convince Emma... but don't ask me to feel good about this yet.
Please.
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[Maelle doesn't ever think he'll be overjoyed, but she hopes he can one day understand. She doesn't see this as a sad thing. It would be sad to be left here, without him. It would be sad to spend her years wondering how he died and how far he made it. It would be sad to have nightmares about him dying frightened and alone. At least this way--
Well, it could all go terribly, but Maelle finds comfort in the fact that they'll be together.]
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You know it's not like I wanted to say goodbye to you, either.
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[Her words are quiet, but no less sure. Of course she knows.]
Sometimes I think the orphans have it easy. [They're all orphans, aren't they? Just fortunate and less fortunate.] The younger ones, anyway. They don't remember losing their parents.
[She will.]
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[ But they all carry the never-ending grief and the fading hope of Lumière with them, no matter when they lose the ones they love.
Sometimes he wonders if he was right or wrong, not to try again for children, a family, after Sophie. Too late now. ]
But then I feel sorry, you know. For the parents who never got to know them.
[ He slides a glance over at her. ]
Like yours.
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I can't imagine spending your last few years with an accident that needs to be fed every few hours and doesn't sleep through the night. [To Gommage tired is a terrible fate. There's no way she was anything but a mistake--three years is nothing with a baby. They were gone before she could even form memories of their faces. Maybe for the best. They likely resented her making their lives more complicated.]
And who knows? If they had me any longer, we might not have crossed paths.
[She might not have been between families, and he and Emma may not have been open to taking in a child. Maelle knows she wouldn't be anything like the person she is today without them.]
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[ He folds his arms across his chest and delivers a precision strike. ]
She'll miss you, you know. She'd have had you for a while longer after I left.
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... your apprentices can warm my seat while I'm gone.
[Maelle knows she's not just a seat at the table. She and Emma may not be as close as her and Gustave, but she's encouraged Maelle to be herself. So, maybe she's the one to blame for this stubbornness.]
But... I'll miss her, too. She does a lot of good here.
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[ He can see that it hit, even if it didn't have the full effect he'd hoped for. But Maelle loves Emma, he knows. This will be hard on all of them. ]
Look, I'll talk to Emma. But I think you owe it to her to have a conversation about this once she and I are done.
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