[Once she settled in with him and Emma, she was fairly obedient. Happy, actually, to please--especially Gustave. She quickly realized she hated disappointing him because he simply cared so much, and seeing him frown was worse than a slap. Making him smile or laugh was like finding gold.
But sometimes, she did have to disappoint him. Like now.]
Quite an exception to make. No wonder you've been so suspiciously obedient lately.
[ Except she hadn't been. Of course they've had their rough patches, but overall Maelle is sweet and he and Emma are lenient and... how had this happened? How had he not even suspected it?
(Had he suspected, and convinced himself it was impossible?) ]
[Maelle scoffs. She knows she's sweet, and he and Emma are lenient. They respect one another. They allow her freedom, and she doesn't cause trouble.]
I thought about having breakfast ready for you this morning, but that might have been a little too suspicious. You would have known precisely what I was going to ask you.
[Perhaps not. She does wonder if some part of him expected this, though. Attached as she is to him, something was going to happen the closer and closer his expedition approached.]
[Boyfriend? Independence? Maelle laughs at both suggestions. She doesn't think she would be a good girlfriend, protective of her alone time as she is, and she has very little limitations on what she does as long as it doesn't cause trouble. He's really reaching.]
... this is way more likely than either of those. Point proven, huh?
[ He pinches to bridge of his nose and rubs at his eyes. The headache that had been threatening before is beginning to bloom in his temples, thudding gently. ]
Imagine my surprise, then. Seeing as I never imagined this to be likely at all.
[ When he'd thought about it at all, which is to say: rarely. It isn't as though he'd been all that keen to leave her behind, either, but that's what happens here. With the Gommage. With the expeditions. It's why he's going with the 33rd to begin with. ]
Of course I did! And I would try to get home to you and Emma, but if I couldn't, at least I would know you'd both be safe for a little while longer.
[ Quiet, as he turns to look out toward the Monolith, the gleaming numbers there. They never move, never dim, never change; never except that one day a year. ]
I know. I felt that way too, with my parents. Right up until the last second, it feels like it's impossible that it could ever happen to you. To the people you love.
[He's the first person she's loved. As a baby, maybe she loved her parents, because that must be instinctual on some level. But she remembers feeling her love for Gustave grow over the years, and she loves him as if he's been her parent her entire life.]
If they had been expeditioners, wouldn't you have wanted to go with them? At least a little?
I was already working for Lumiere as an engineer when they Gommaged. I already had my first apprentices.
[ It's not really an answer, but it isn't... not an answer, either. ]
If they had been expeditioners, they would have wanted me to stay here and continue my work, to give Lumiere and the other expeditions a better chance.
[ He looks over at her with a small shake of his head. ]
I might have wanted to go with them, but I wouldn't have.
There's nothing I can do here that would give anyone a better chance. I'm a courier. I'll do much more good with you on an expedition. You have to at least admit that much.
[If she had any sort of real skill, then he could argue that her staying here was for the best. As it is, her remaining years is a terrible argument. They'll lack the person she loves most.]
[ He gives her a helpless glance, hating, as always, that she talks herself down, considers herself anything but useful. He's always forcefully disagreed with the way the various artisans and workers here had elected not to apprentice her. She's smart and willing and stubborn and he knows there's so much more she can offer this world than her life. ]
...I know you'll do well on an expedition.
[ He'd just hoped it would be one much, much later. He sighs, and decides to offer her a small olive branch. ]
And you know I'll be happier having you with me, too.
[He sure doesn't sound like it, but as he said, he can't be happy right now. It's a win and a loss and a great thing and a terrible thing. Maelle gets it. So, she does him a favor and keeps the smile at bay.]
I'll save you when you get into socially awkward situations. I've always been a good excuse. Oh, I'd better check on Maelle. Wait. Was that Maelle calling me? Pardon me.
Ideally, we'll need to camp and sleep at some point. That's plenty of time for awkward conversations.
[Though she imagines he'll be fine. Gustave loves people--he must, to put so much work into the Lumina Converter, to cherish the future so desperately, to want to make this difference even if their expedition fails.]
[ Child, he almost says, and manages to swallow it at the last second. Maelle is — would be — will be — sixteen. Almost grown, no matter how much he still sees the little girl in her. ]
—a teenager with us? Really? You think in all the time I've spent researching past Expeditions, I might have missed something like that?
[ But clearly she knows she might not win with that particular argument, so she pushes on to make one he knows she's heard him use on Emma himself. He gives her a pursed-lips, rolled-eyes exasperated glance. ]
Expedition 33 could be the last. I'd still rather you weren't anywhere near it.
[Maelle's brows lift higher and higher as she knows what he wants to call her. A child. Given their little spat, she's not looking to fight about the words he chooses. She knows she'll always be the little sister, the daughter, to him. She tries not to take it for granted. She's so, so lucky to be under his care, and she knows in some way this must feel like she's throwing it all away, to him.]
I know. I know, I just...
[Her words trail off into silence, hands lifting and dropping helplessly. She knows he doesn't like this. She knows he would prefer her stay here. There's the potential to have a whole lifetime ahead of her, but she can't envision how that would look without him there in it. Death would be better, she thinks, but she knows she can't say it. He'd be too upset.]
[ They don't need to go over it again, surely. He casts his glance around, pausing for a moment on a small, rounded rock that's almost begging to be flung over the railing and into the harbour, failing once more to hit the Paintress, as if that might help any of this.
The sun is starting to set, golden light glowing down over the harbour, glinting off the waves, and he sighs, looks back over at her. ]
We should probably head home. Emma's going to have our hides if we're late for dinner.
Or mine, anyway, considering she somehow thinks you still listen to me, and thus that I'm responsible for you being late, too.
[Emma might wish they skipped dinner entirely. Maelle isn't particularly eager to head home, the conversation killing her appetite. There's still an unpleasant conversation to have, and Maelle is sure there will be raised voices. She hates to be the cause.]
Are you going to tell her tonight?
[The Paintress seems less daunting than Emma's disappointment.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[Once she settled in with him and Emma, she was fairly obedient. Happy, actually, to please--especially Gustave. She quickly realized she hated disappointing him because he simply cared so much, and seeing him frown was worse than a slap. Making him smile or laugh was like finding gold.
But sometimes, she did have to disappoint him. Like now.]
... usually. Today's an exception.
no subject
[ Except she hadn't been. Of course they've had their rough patches, but overall Maelle is sweet and he and Emma are lenient and... how had this happened? How had he not even suspected it?
(Had he suspected, and convinced himself it was impossible?) ]
Lulling me into a false sense of security?
no subject
I thought about having breakfast ready for you this morning, but that might have been a little too suspicious. You would have known precisely what I was going to ask you.
[Perhaps not. She does wonder if some part of him expected this, though. Attached as she is to him, something was going to happen the closer and closer his expedition approached.]
no subject
[ His hands have lifted back into the air, gesturing widely at each option, but now they fall back to his sides. ]
No. I wouldn't have expected this.
no subject
... this is way more likely than either of those. Point proven, huh?
no subject
Imagine my surprise, then. Seeing as I never imagined this to be likely at all.
no subject
Really? You thought that I'd say goodbye to you at the harbor some day, and that would be it?
no subject
[ When he'd thought about it at all, which is to say: rarely. It isn't as though he'd been all that keen to leave her behind, either, but that's what happens here. With the Gommage. With the expeditions. It's why he's going with the 33rd to begin with. ]
Of course I did! And I would try to get home to you and Emma, but if I couldn't, at least I would know you'd both be safe for a little while longer.
no subject
[She says quietly with a lift of her arms before letting them fall against her sides. He doesn't want to hear it, but it's true.]
I could never imagine it. How... that could ever be real. Not the Gommage, but, you know... that it would eventually be your turn. Not really.
no subject
[ Quiet, as he turns to look out toward the Monolith, the gleaming numbers there. They never move, never dim, never change; never except that one day a year. ]
I know. I felt that way too, with my parents. Right up until the last second, it feels like it's impossible that it could ever happen to you. To the people you love.
no subject
If they had been expeditioners, wouldn't you have wanted to go with them? At least a little?
no subject
[ It's not really an answer, but it isn't... not an answer, either. ]
If they had been expeditioners, they would have wanted me to stay here and continue my work, to give Lumiere and the other expeditions a better chance.
[ He looks over at her with a small shake of his head. ]
I might have wanted to go with them, but I wouldn't have.
no subject
[If she had any sort of real skill, then he could argue that her staying here was for the best. As it is, her remaining years is a terrible argument. They'll lack the person she loves most.]
no subject
...I know you'll do well on an expedition.
[ He'd just hoped it would be one much, much later. He sighs, and decides to offer her a small olive branch. ]
And you know I'll be happier having you with me, too.
no subject
I'll save you when you get into socially awkward situations. I've always been a good excuse. Oh, I'd better check on Maelle. Wait. Was that Maelle calling me? Pardon me.
no subject
Do you think there will be a lot of socially awkward situations when we're busy running for our lives from Nevrons?
no subject
[Though she imagines he'll be fine. Gustave loves people--he must, to put so much work into the Lumina Converter, to cherish the future so desperately, to want to make this difference even if their expedition fails.]
no subject
[ He lifts his hands, spreads them apart like a magician creating an illusion. ]
'Gustave, why did you let your teenaged sister come on an extremely dangerous, most likely deadly Expedition?'
no subject
[Surely there were others who made a similar sacrifice. Children going with parents. Siblings with their older brother or sister.]
But we could be the last.
[Optimism will win her points, she knows, even if she doubts they can succeed.]
no subject
[ Child, he almost says, and manages to swallow it at the last second. Maelle is — would be — will be — sixteen. Almost grown, no matter how much he still sees the little girl in her. ]
—a teenager with us? Really? You think in all the time I've spent researching past Expeditions, I might have missed something like that?
[ But clearly she knows she might not win with that particular argument, so she pushes on to make one he knows she's heard him use on Emma himself. He gives her a pursed-lips, rolled-eyes exasperated glance. ]
Expedition 33 could be the last. I'd still rather you weren't anywhere near it.
no subject
I know. I know, I just...
[Her words trail off into silence, hands lifting and dropping helplessly. She knows he doesn't like this. She knows he would prefer her stay here. There's the potential to have a whole lifetime ahead of her, but she can't envision how that would look without him there in it. Death would be better, she thinks, but she knows she can't say it. He'd be too upset.]
no subject
[ They don't need to go over it again, surely. He casts his glance around, pausing for a moment on a small, rounded rock that's almost begging to be flung over the railing and into the harbour, failing once more to hit the Paintress, as if that might help any of this.
The sun is starting to set, golden light glowing down over the harbour, glinting off the waves, and he sighs, looks back over at her. ]
We should probably head home. Emma's going to have our hides if we're late for dinner.
Or mine, anyway, considering she somehow thinks you still listen to me, and thus that I'm responsible for you being late, too.
no subject
Are you going to tell her tonight?
[The Paintress seems less daunting than Emma's disappointment.]