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Sciel, as a teacher, is a master of distraction.
Or at least she would like to think of herself as one. Spending so much time with young, bickering children tends to give one the sixth sense for causing diversions, especially between kids who enjoy fighting and kids who enjoy arguing. Although neither applied to this situation, the sentiment remained: Sciel was excellent at distracting.
Subject number one: Maelle, who remained quiet most of the time, curled up against Esquie while fighting stubbornly against sleep. Sciel had always harboured a soft spot for the girl, even more since Gustave's passing, and some part of her— the haunted part dragged from the depths of the ocean— felt something…almost dangerously maternal. While she preferred not to dwell on that, Sciel was smart enough to know that she loved her, and smarter to know that Maelle needed this kind of support from someone.
Maelle was barely an adult and yet she had seen things most people twice her age had never borne witness to, and it was a destructive thing on such a young mind. Sciel…didn't pity her, knew better than to pity, but she felt…sympathy for her. The inexplicable take to bring her mind off of things.
"Hm?" Maelle blinks wearily, rubbing at her eyes when Sciel approaches her. "You want to…make bracelets?"
"I just thought it would be a fun little thing to do! I taught my students to make these, you know," Sciel says, holding out her arm, where her own bracelets catch the sunlight. "I could teach you too, if you want."
Maelle narrows her eyes, and it's about now that Sciel remembers that she's technically still a teenager, at the age where she's adamant on remaining cool, especially surrounded by adults. 'Making bracelets' wasn't exactly considered a cool activity. But, to Sciel's great surprise (and admittedly joy), the girl shrugs. "Well, okay."
"I would like to learn to make bracelets, too," says Esquie, in his wondrous songlike voice. "I will make one for each of my rocks. And for François!"
Sciel doesn't exactly know how François would wear a bracelet, and whether he would even accept one in the first place, but far be it for her to argue. "Of course you can, Esquie."
And then there was the ever-difficult subject number two, who was currently hunched over Expedition 33's journal, diligently recording their journey in excruciating detail. Lune was always steadfast in her single-mindedness, almost to a fault, overworking herself in the face of tragedy. Sciel wasn't sure of the last time her mind stopped running.
But, she's always liked a challenge.
"Lune, you've been working all night," Sciel calls, to where Lune is seated on the log by the fire. "Come over, we're making bracelets!"
Lune glances at them, almost considering it, before turning back to the journal. "That's nice, but I'm busy."
Well, that was to be expected.
"It is a fun activity for us to enjoy together," Esquie says, spreading his arms apart and pulling them back close in the gesture of a warm hug.
"Hmm."
"It'll be fun!"
Maelle sticks out her tongue. "Lune isn't big on fun," she teases, and of course that's what causes her to finally snap.
"I— tch!— I don't know how to make bracelets."
"I'll teach you, come on," Sciel laughs, patting the empty space beside her, nudging Maelle, who blows a raspberry and ducks out of the way when Lune swats at her.
The mage sighs, waving away the journal and reluctantly sitting. "Fine. Fine. Just for tonight. You don't have to teach me, it'll be easy."
That turns out to be false, of course.
Sciel stifles a laugh behind a hand as Lune struggles to tie off a knot, losing half of her bracelet in the process. She should've known that even in Lune's wide and extensive scope of knowledge, there would be a few weaknesses. It just so happens that one is in the mundane act of bracelet making.
"This is impossible and time-wasting," she mutters heatedly, looking glumly at the tangled loop of yellow thread cupped in the palm of her hand.
Maelle, already sporting a few new ornaments of her own, snickers. "Maybe if you were more patient with them, then they'll cooperate."
"I am being patient—"
"Mon ami," the unmistakable rumbling of Esquie's voice comes from behind her, and Sciel turns to find a a very large wreath of intricately woven thread being offered to her. "I have made you a bracelet, ohoho…! But it might be too big."
It is definitely too big, but Sciel smiles and tries not to cry and drapes it around her neck. "Oh, Esquie— I love it!"
"I am glad," Esquie nods, and claps his hands together, before picking out some blue and red threads from the pouch. "I will make one for Lulu and Maemae too."
Speaking of Lune and Maelle— in the few moments since Sciel's attention has been away from them, it appears that they are trying to unravel the clump of Lune's first attempt, to varying degrees of success. They look…oh, they look happy, for the first time in so long.
Sciel isn't even sure of the last time she saw Lune smile so wide. She'd been elated to find out that Gestrals existed, which was adorable in itself, and had been spending time with Esquie talking about rocks, which was somehow more adorable. But here, laughing and teasing with Maelle…
Well. Sciel doesn't want to call it anything it might not be, for the fear that its peace would just as quickly be broken, but the metaphor lingers in her mind.
Esquie, having finished his next two bracelet-wreaths, scoops them into his hands and waddles to where Lune and Maelle are sitting, before draping them over their heads. She has to stop herself from laughing when Maelle's face is just about entirely obscured by the thing, and has to stop herself from another feeling entirely at seeing Lune hold onto her own Esquie-bracelet with something close to tenderness.
"They look…very wheeee," Esquie says excitedly, as he lumbers back towards her. "This is nice. I have not seen Lulu being very wheee. She is usually whooo."
Sciel laughs. Esquie has always had a bit of a unique way of seeing the world, but Sciel has come to love it as she has come to love everyone in their team. "I guess you're right."
"Maemae too…I like seeing them feel wheee instead of whooo."
"Yeah," she sighs, leaning against him. Maelle and Lune have started comparing their bracelet-burdened arms, now, and while she can't hear exactly what they're saying, she can hear the joy behind their voices. "Yeah, me too."
It's another few hours, when the moonlight is the brightest, before Sciel notices that Maelle has fallen asleep leaning against the log beside the campfire. It feels about as dangerous as moving a sleeping Nevron, but eventually her and Lune manage to manoeuvre her into a more comfortable position, lying on Sciel's jacket, before finally settling down for the night.
She looks…so much younger like this. Sciel knows, logically, that Maelle is already mostly grown— she is strong and matured and wise beyond her years— but asleep, unburdened by the day's horrors, unburdened by the nightmares that seemed to plague her sleep every so often, she looks almost at peace.
Impulsively, Sciel reaches out to brush her fingers against ginger hair, but jerks back at the sound of footsteps behind her.
"I'm glad she's finally resting," Lune says, pausing hesitantly before sitting down beside her. "It seems almost rare these days."
She's not wrong. Maelle has been staying up more, almost as much as Lune and Verso do. "I worry about her, and I know I shouldn't— she can take care of herself, and even if she can't, we have you to heal us— but still."
"You've been very good at helping her, though. And all of us."
"Do you think so?"
Lune gives her a passive half-smile. "You know, the other day I was talking to Esquie. You were helping brush Maelle's hair."
Several weeks in the outdoors, predictably, resulted in a mess of tangled knots in long hair, and Sciel knew the story all too well. "Yes, I remember."
"She wouldn't stop complaining about it."
"Aw, but I felt bad. Tangled hair hurts."
Lune's hair was short and well-maintained, almost constantly, and seemed to never be as affected by the trials and tribulations of the adventuring life on physical appearances. Sciel quite envied it.
"He turned to me, and he said, Sciel is the colour yellow. I didn't know what he meant until now," Lune continues, glancing at her. "You're…very good at this. At making people happy. Maelle was almost bouncing off of the walls, that day you did her hair for her. It was such a small thing, but it made her smile like it was the biggest thing in the world."
"I just wanted to see her smile," Sciel says. It's true. It's all she's ever wanted, for her to feel something other than pain and sorrow in their last few moments. The Paintress was so close now, and their days would soon be defined by constant bloodshed and fighting. It would be cruel of her not to provide just a single moment of respite.
"And she did," Lune says, turning to face her. "And so did everyone else. It's almost magic, Sciel. What Esquie said— I think he meant that you are joy. I almost didn't see it until now." She takes a deep breath, and covers one of Sciel's hands with her own. Sciel, awash in the warmth, watches the stars reflect in her eyes. "Now it's all I see."
Sciel has never loved silence, but this one is…comfortable. Safe. The fire flickers dully, and the wind whistles in the trees above, providing the campsite with a gentle sort of ambience. Beside her, Lune hums a lilting melody.
"Hey, would you look at that," Sciel smiles sleepily, holding up her wrist beside Lune's. "We're matching. How's that for new friendships?"
Lune gently touches the bracelets lining her own wrist— a few from Maelle, a few of Sciel's, and Esquie's large one looped over several times— with a sort of reverence Sciel had seldom seen from her. It's a beautiful look, she decides, watching Lune's smile widen with every passing second.
"It's…not bad."
"Not bad? I was hoping for something more along the lines of, wow Sciel, you're an incredible friend, thank you so much! But I guess that'll do," she sighs wistfully, laughing when Lune rolls her eyes.
"I suppose it was…a nice break," Lune admits, fidgeting idly with one of the blue bracelets that Maelle had woven for her.
Sciel is more than happy to accept just that, when suddenly— suddenly, wonderfully— Lune shifts closer, tentatively resting her head in the nook between Sciel's shoulder and neck.
"Thank you," Lune murmurs, and Sciel does nothing but smile.
"I am beyond insulted that you all didn't invite me!"
"Monoco—"
"To think that Verso had placed his trust in you, thinking you to be nice humans—"
"Monoco, stop. We made bracelets for you too."
"You— you did?"
"Of course we did, you broomhead! Look, even Lune made one for you."
"…Huh."
"Monoco, are you crying—"
"—shut up Verso—"
"Don't worry, Verso, we made a few for you too."
"Oh."
"Aw, look at that! Now they're both crying!"
"Sciel!"