Chapter Text
Now, the King had been bested for close to a month. Things had finally settled down somewhat, you were travelling with what was tentatively being called a family, and things you’d had to set aside were returning. Some of these were great, like your anti-anxiety meds – they were definitely great to have back. Other things were less great, like your crushing guilt over Siffrin’s eye. The horrible weight that sat just below your ribs and conspired to drag you down into the dirt.
So that was how you found yourself by the campfire, reading a very particular book you’d picked up in the last city you were in.
Something like a ghost flitted closer in the corner of your vision, moving silently even over the dry forest floor.
“Hi, Siffrin,” you greeted, looking up. He wasn’t wearing his eyepatch, having taken it off when you made camp. Seeing them like this was nice, it made you think that maybe they really weren’t that bothered, but it was also a harsh reminder of what you failed to save.
“Hey Mira, what’re you reading?”
“Just a textbook. There’s always more to learn, you know.”
He loomed over you, peering down at the book, and the very obvious, very detailed diagram of a human eye, surrounded by lots of very technical medical jargon. They hummed, somewhat curiously, somewhat knowingly. Then his weight shifted, and he went to walk away.
“Wait,” you said, faster than you probably should have, “do you remember when you lost your eye, what we spoke about?”
Their gaze seemed to glaze over as they tried to recall the memory, and then almost imperceptibly, their jaw clenched. No, then.
“Different question,” you said, “Do you miss your eye?”
He looked around, looked back at you, took a deep breath, sat. “Sometimes, sure. Who wouldn’t? Why, are you planning to try grow a new one?”
“No, that’s not possible. I just… I could have prevented it, back then, if I’d known the stuff in this book. If I’d been better at healing Craft. I still feel guilty about it, even after you brushed it off. It must have bothered you, but you wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it, and I just dropped it. You should be so mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you? Didn’t you save my life? Besides, even if I wanted to, I can’t be mad at you because you’re still supposed to be mad at me. Remember?”
“Well, what if I don’t want to be mad at you any more?”
“And what if I don’t want to be mad at you?”
You couldn’t really argue against that. “Can we still… talk about it, though? I feel like we’ve never really treated it with the gravity it deserves.”
Siffrin sighed, and their cloak shifted as they adjusted position. “Sure, I guess.”
Feelings buddies time!
“Okay,” you said, “First, I’m sorry for—”
“I will leave if you’re going to keep apologising,” Siffrin interrupted, “I forgive you. I may not remember the specifics, but I know you saved my life. You turned a fatal injury into a hit to my vision. Sure, I don’t spot things sometimes, and still bump my hip on corners, but at least I’m alive to do that. If I have to let you forgive me for almost ending the world, then you have to let me forgive you for saving. My. Life.”
You swallowed. “Right, fair enough, sorry—”
“Stop it.”
“Sor—” you clamped your hand over your mouth before you said it again. You looked eyes with Siffrin, who was fixing you with a glare and poorly fighting the grin spreading across his face. A small snicker slipped out and then you both devolved into giggling messes.
“Okay, okay,” you panted, “S— ah! I am not sorry about that. It was funny, and I am not apologising for it, but I do still feel guilty about your eye. Especially the way I just let you brush it off back then. I shouldn’t have let it just go ignored.”
“Ahh, I was always going to brush it off. No amount of insistence would have changed that. We had a mission, and I didn’t want to risk being left behind. I mean, I think I’ve made it pretty clear how much I like being around you all. Then, and now, and ignoring the bit with Dormont in the middle, are the best parts of my life – that I can remember anyway.” He laughed quietly at his own joke, and you laughed along.
“You realise how terrible that actually is in hindsight, right?” you asked, still laughing, “I mean, you’re basically saying that the time you suffered a grievous head injury and almost died was a great time.”
“Well when you put it like that it sounds terrible. Can we add the injury part to the bits we’re ignoring? It can sit right next to Dormont on the naughty step, but everything else was great. Honestly, Bonbon not talking to me for ages after was worse than the actual injury.”
You laughed, but then saw how serious he looked.
“Wait, really? Surely the weeks of recovery and losing an entire eye was worse than the silent treatment.”
“Nope. I thought they hated me. I was devastated.”
“So you’re really just fine with it? It doesn’t bother you?”
“Yup,” they said, popping the P. “Well, it bothers me sometimes, when it causes me problems, but I’ve never blamed you for that, nor will I. In fact, I’m more to blame than you are – entirely to blame, actually. So unless you’re also going to blame me for almost getting myself killed, then you can’t blame yourself for not saving my eye.”
“What? Entirely to blame? How could you possibly think that? There is no crabbing way that you’re to blame for getting injured there! You saved Bonnie’s life… Oh, I see what you did there.”
“Excellent! Exactly as planned. Entirely on purpose. Though, just out of curiosity, what, exactly, do you think I just did?”
You stifled a giggle. “If I swap you and Bonnie for me and you, I end up arguing against my own guilt.”
“A-ha, that was very clever of me then, to make you realise that.”
You smiled at them, shifted your position, and extended an arm. He smiled back and pressed into your side. The mix of their cloak and body heat helped warm you better than the little campfire could ever hope to. His hair pressed into your cheek, wonderfully soft, and blatantly unbrushed.
“Your hair’s a mess again,” you said, “When was the last time you brushed it?”
He looked at you sheepishly. “When did we leave that city?”
Four days ago. You thought. “Wait here,” you said, and went to get a brush.
When you came back, you had them sit in front of you so you could begin untangling the mess. He leaned into you as you worked, and you replayed the conversation in your head, trying to get it to sink in, finally alleviate some of the guilt.
You did the best you could with what you had. You saved their life. He forgives you.
Then you actually processed what they had said.
“If you weren’t just leading me into arguing against my own guilt, then do you actually believe you’re to blame for losing your eye?”
He twisted his head to look at you, saw your frown. “Oh! Right, that sounds really bad. I don’t mean anything like ‘I should have been faster, or paying more attention’ even though I probably should have, I don’t know, I can’t remember the details. I mean that when I got hit I could have blocked it, or maybe grabbed Bonbon and dodged, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to risk them getting hit, so I prioritised getting in-between them and the attack over everything else, and I was prepared to get hurt for that. So I could never have blamed you even if it was somehow your fault, because I made the choice to get hit in place of Bonbon. And I trusted that no matter how bad the hit was, you’d have been able to save me, which you did.” They smiled ruefully, and touched a hand to the scar tissue around their vacant eye. “I’d do it again if I had to, even knowing I’d lose the eye.”
Hearing that resolve, that determination to have protected Bonnie no matter the cost, managed to be the thing that actually alleviated most of the guilt. Not all of it, not even close, but a surprising chunk. You couldn’t keep beating yourself up over it knowing that Siffrin had made his choice aware of the risk, it felt… almost disrespectful, in a weird way.
You finished brushing their hair in silence, enjoying each other’s company. It was getting late now, and your nifty Craft alarms would alert you to any Sadnesses so there was no need to stay up and keep watch. You stretched, yawned, and got up to go to your tent.
“You feel any better?” Siffrin asked, doing much the same.
“A little bit,” you smiled, “It’s still there, but I’ll manage it. It’ll get better.”
“There’s always more feelings buddies chats,” they smiled back.
That there was. Maybe there was something else you could do as well – design some accessories for his eyepatch with Isabeau, maybe? Their outfit was awfully plain, it might be a nice touch. You went to sleep, Bonnie clinging to you, a weight partially lifted, and fancy designs swimming through your mind.