Work Text:
Neuvillette was walking with Sedene to the Opera Epiclese when Sedene suddenly exclaimed, “There she is! Monsieur Neuvillette, you need to ask her something for me.”
Neuvillette stopped in his tracks, confused by Sedene's odd behavior. He attempted to get a good look at her face, but she was distracted, pointing across the courtyard just past the center fountain.
“Sedene, what exactly do you mean?”
“Over there, it's Miss Navia of the Spina.”
Neuvillette followed where Sedene is pointing and saw Navia sitting on a bench, shielded from the sun by her umbrella. Navia gazed at the fountain, appearing to be lost in thought.
Neuvillette's confusion didn't cease; Sedene usually wasn't one to forego human manners. He said, “It would be remiss to interrupt her when she's taking a rest. What did you want me to ask her?”
“Well,” Sedene turned to him, hands on her hips. “Miss Navia used to bake macarons and share them with me and some of the other melusines once a week or so. It's been over a month since she last brought them, and I want you to ask her about it.”
Ah. Sedene could be insistent when it came to sweets. “It's impolite to ask after gifts that were given freely. Miss Navia does not need to share with us the reason she ceased bringing desserts.”
“That makes sense. It's just… the flood also happened a month ago, so I've been wondering if it's related.”
He hadn't even realized; that changed a lot. He knew what losses Navia had sustained when the Primordial Sea rose in Poisson, and he knew she was undertaking a lot of work in the reconstruction efforts. Whether her constraint was emotional or temporal, it was obvious that she did not have time to deliver desserts.
“She is most likely only busy. Why do you not ask her yourself?”
“You know her personally, don't you? Besides, I can tell that you already have an idea why. Whatever it is went right over my head, let me tell you.”
“I see. I do indeed believe that Miss Navia's absence has something to do with the flood.”
Sedene unexpectedly grabbed his hand, attempting to pull him by the arm towards Navia. “All the more reason to ask!”
Neuvillette did not pull away, because he could never bring himself to reject the melusines in any way, but confusion overtook him. “This is unnecessary. I honestly do not understand-”
“Monsieur Neuvillette?” Neuvillette looked up from Sedene and met the gaze of Miss Navia herself, who was now standing before him. “And Sedene! It's nice to run into you both! I was sitting over there and couldn't help but notice the ruckus.”
“Miss Navia.” Neuvillette resisted the urge to straighten his jabot. “It's a pleasure to meet you again. As for the commotion…” He didn't quite know how to explain the situation.
Sedene said, “Oops, sorry! It really is all my fault. I wanted him to ask you why you stopped bringing macarons to the Epiclese.”
Navia's smile fell just a little. Sedene probably didn't notice, but Neuvillette had been feeling more and more human by the day, and he understood the emotion that influenced her expression.
Navia said, “Sorry, I just haven't had the time. No worries at all, though! There's nothing wrong with checking up on me. I'm sure you were concerned.”
Sedene nodded. “As long as everything's alright. Don't worry about the macarons. I mostly just wanted to make sure you were feeling okay.”
Navia's smile turned more genuine. “Of course. Thank you, Sedene.”
The interaction seemed to be coming to an end, but something about the way Navia's face fell earlier made Neuvillette worry. Navia was surely feeling worse than she let on.
And he couldn't help but think that it was at least partially his fault. If only he'd arrived at Poisson quickly that day, maybe her attendants would still be alive and well.
It seemed his actions were always failing her again and again.
Neuvillette said, “Miss Navia.”
“Hmm? What is it?”
Navia's expectant gaze bored into him. He didn't know what he wanted to do, only that he felt guilty for how she felt. He tried to come up with a reason to see her again.
“Could I perhaps trouble you with instructing me on how to make the macarons you usually give to the melusines? I would like to provide them with their favorite things.” Realizing how much he was actually asking of her, he backtracked. “Of course, if you are too busy, I understand.”
There was a twinge of something in Navia’s expression, but Neuvillette couldn't identify it. Navia said, “It's no trouble at all. You can come to my house where I have all of my baking utensils.”
“Ah. Thank you very much. Are you available on Thursday evening?”
“Yes, I am. Do you have somewhere to write down my address?”
“No need; I will remember it.”
Slightly perplexed, Navia recited her address to him. After they worked out a specific meeting time, Navia dismissed herself.
“I need to get moving now, but I'll see you in a few days, Monsieur. Bye to you both!”
There was an off-putting fakeness to Navia's cheer, but Neuvillette didn't know how to address it. He said, “Goodbye, Miss Navia.”
“Bye, Miss Navia!” Sedene said, and Navia waved before walking away.
Sedene turned to Neuvillette. Dubiously, she asked, “Are you truly going to make macarons?”
Neuvillette felt equally as perplexed, even though he had been the one to propose the idea. “I suppose so. I would not go back on my word.”
It was strange, being in Navia’s home.
She lived in the heart of Poisson, in a house that looked hastily constructed from the outside but was remarkably well put-together inside.
Elegant wallpaper covered the walls. No two pieces of furniture were from the same set, but it was clear that every item was chosen with care to match the rest of the room.
Navia’s home was a place Neuvillette should never have been allowed to step foot in, but here he was. Navia did not resent him—and in fact trusted him enough to let him into her living space—and he still marveled at that fact.
Navia led him to a spotless kitchen. It was suspiciously spotless, to the point where Neuvillette wondered if she’d recently used it at all.
Navia said, “I have a confession to make.”
“A... confession?” Obviously, it was not the type of confession seen in a courtroom, but he couldn’t figure out what else it could be.
“Ah, nothing as serious as you’re probably thinking. It’s just about baking. I gave it up.”
Neuvillette looked at her with surprise. “I was under the impression that this activity brought you joy.”
“It does. Or... it did. And maybe ’gave up’ is the wrong word for it; it’s more that I haven’t been able to bake since they passed. Melus and Silver, I mean. It’s too different now.”
“How so? Did they help you with the baking?”
A slight, crooked smile lifted her lips as she looked toward the floor. “No, nothing like that. It’s just... I always give away my leftovers from baking, since I can’t eat it all by myself. Like what Sedene was talking about with the macarons. I gave away pastries to just about everyone, but the ones who ended up receiving the most were always Melus and Silver. Now, it’s just not the same.”
Neuvillette found himself fascinated; apparently humans could feel disconnect from an activity they once loved because of grief and broken routine.
Immediately after, he was struck with guilt. This conversation was about Navia, not about the human condition.
Neuvillette said, “I understand. I would not take offense if you feel unable to teach me. I will leave if you wish.”
Navia’s eyes widened, and Neuvillette turned rapt attention onto her surprised expression and striking blue eyes. She said, “No, that’s not what I meant. I want to teach you. Would it be alright if I just verbally instructed you? It might be harder to learn without real demonstration.”
“That is fine. I will learn however you see fit.”
Navia smiled slightly, this time with less sadness behind it. “There’s no need to go that far. Now come on, let’s get you an apron.”
Navia shuffled through some hanging aprons and pulled one out. It was white with Melusine faces printed all over the fabric. She said, “Sorry, I didn’t realize how cutesy all of my aprons are! I tried to get one you might like.”
“How could I possibly dislike something like this?” He took the apron and tied it on, feeling lighter just from the thought of wearing the Melusine-themed clothing. “It is perfect.”
Navia smiled again, and Neuvillette hoped she might keep doing it. “Ah, I see. I’m glad!”
Navia verbally walked him through cracking eggs and separating their whites.
She said, “Now, to whisk, you’ll probably find it best to hold the bowl at an angle like this.” She took hold of his hand on the bowl and guided him to tilt the bowl properly. He held his breath until she let go.
“Then, you’ll want to whisk it. Go slow at first, but we’re going to ramp up the speed in no time.”
Neuvillette did as she instructed. She told him to increase the speed of his whisking, and he did no problem.
After the egg whites foamed, though, he needed to add the sugar and flour as he whisked, and his arms were getting tired.
“Alright, a little faster now,” Navia said.
“A little more!”
“Now you’ll want to go really quick! Keep going!”
Neuvillette kept whisking until he reached almost superhuman speeds. The mixture was thickening and getting more difficult to whisk, and yet Navia said he needed to whisk it faster.
After what felt like forever, Navia said, “Alright, done! You can give your arms a rest now while I get a bag.”
Arms sore, Neuvillette looked at Navia with new admiration. He said, “Must you truly move at such speeds in order to bake? How is that possible for humans?”
Navia laughed. “That’s right! Maybe humans are capable of more than you think.”
“Ah. That is a fact that is proven to me anew every day.”
Navia hummed with mild interest, but she didn’t push further. She found whatever she was looking for and held it up. It was a clear plastic bag.
“Now, we’ll cut a small hole into this and attach the tip before filling it. After that, we’ll pipe the macarons right onto the sheet.”
Neuvillette did as instructed and started squeezing the macarons onto the parchment-covered baking sheet. He could feel Navia’s gaze and anxious energy as she instructed him.
Unsure exactly how to interpret her feelings, he defaulted to the only thing he could think of. “Do you want to pipe one?”
The denial didn’t come. He could see her wavering in the way her eyes dashed to and from the tray, in the slight parting of her lips, in the way her weight shifted towards the baking tray and then away.
He did not know how to push her over that edge of indecision or if he even should. He held out the pipe bag between them—a gesture that he hoped was neutral. She could take it if she wanted, and she could ignore it if she decided against it.
Slowly, almost robotically, Navia took the bag from him and held it in her hands, poised to pipe. And then she stood there, unmoving.
Neuvillette said, “You do not need to force yourself.”
“I know. I think I want to do it. It’s just... baking feels so lifeless without them around.”
Navia took a deep breath and released it as a sigh. Her fingers fidgeted, tapping on the pipe bag in a frantic rhythm.
Neuvillette did not know what to say, whether to encourage or placate. Maybe a question would be best.
He remembered that Navia often gave away baked goods as gift. He asked, “Who will be receiving this macaron?”
Her fingers stilled. She looked at him, and he wondered if he misspoke. Was it poorly worded? Was his question in bad taste?
But then, she looked determined, and she squeezed a macaron shell onto the tray. “This one can be for Monsieur Neuvillette. I hear his children love sweets and I wonder if he likes them too.”
Neuvillette’s mood immediately lifted, both for Navia’s determination and the fact that she referred to the melusines as his children. It was a much rarer distinction than calling him their father.
He said, “I appreciate the gift, Miss Navia. I will enjoy it.”
She piped out the shell’s matching half, and then she moved onto the next. “This one is for Clorinde, who I’m seeing tomorrow.” She piped another pair. “This one is for Sedene. It’s only fair after she got me thinking about baking again.”
She shoved the pipe bag towards him, and he took it without a thought. Navia said, “That’s it. I’m done. Do you mind doing the rest?”
Navia looked exhausted, but there was less tension in her shoulders than before. Even Neuvillette could tell that doing that had been good for her.
“Not at all,” Neuvillette said. Maybe it wasn’t quite befitting the situation, but he smiled. Weakly, Navia smiled back.
Neuvillette piped the rest of the macarons onto the tray. His were much more lopsided than the perfect ones Navia made, and it was easy to tell them apart.
While the macarons baked, they spoke about relatively inconsequential topics, never quite touching on Navia’s feat of making three macarons.
Neuvillette didn’t know how to broach the topic. How did one congratulate someone on such a task without sounding condescending?
When the macarons were fully baked, Navia guided him through making the filling and sandwiching it into the macarons. Navia put the filling in her own three macarons herself, and Neuvillette’s chest bursted with something close to pride. Perhaps it was not his place to feel proud of her, but he couldn’t help the feeling.
When the macarons were finished and plated, Neuvillette took one of his lopsided macarons and offered it to Navia. “Would you like to have one, Miss Navia?”
Surprise showed on her face. Was it really so strange for him to offer her a small gift?
She said, “Sure. Let’s see how well I taught you.” She bit into the macaron, and her smile betrayed her before her voice. “It’s great! Just practice piping them evenly and you’ll be making flawless macarons in no time.”
“I am glad you enjoyed it.”
She took one of her own and offered it to him. “I did say this was a gift to you.”
Neuvillette took the macaron from her and visually inspected it.
Navia watched him curiously. “Monsieur... have you never had a macaron before?”
“No. Not that I recall.”
Amusement crept into her voice. “So, you learned how to make macarons from me before you even knew what they tasted like?”
Neuvillette smiled. “When you say it like that, it does sound strange. However, I only wanted to make them as gifts for the melusines. That is all.”
It was only after he said it that he realized his statement was technically untrue.
Navia said, “Is that really all it was?”
Neuvillette let out a breath. He had no desire to lie to her anyway. “I must confess, my main motivation was only to find a way to see you again. I was... concerned.” He hoped that wasn’t an awkward thing to admit. “I wanted to know why you gave up baking, an activity you enjoy.”
“I’d guessed that.” She ducked her head. Then, she purposefully raised it, as if casting off her momentary shyness, and met his eyes. “Thank you. For checking on me. It really does mean a lot.”
“Oh. You are very welcome. I had only come to alleviate my own worry.” He hadn’t realized such a simple action could mean something positive to her.
“And it helped me, too. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”
He looked at the macaron in his hand. “I suppose so.” He took a bite of the macaron. The outside had a slight crunch, and the sweet flavor was strong but not overwhelming.
Navia said, “So? How is it?”
“I enjoyed it,” he said, and Navia seemed pleased. He wanted to see that expression again. “Tell me if this is too much to ask, but, if time permits, would you be willing to teach me another recipe sometime?”
“Of course! We can even make macarons again if you want to practice. Next time, maybe I’ll make four macarons.”
Neuvillette felt happy, not fully understanding why. He was just glad that Navia’s joy in baking hadn’t been fully lost.
If something about teaching him helped her take up baking again, he would gladly participate as many times as it took. Even if Navia could only do a little at a time, he didn’t mind doing the rest of the baking for her until she was ready.
“Then it is settled. Next we meet, we will make macarons again.”
With humor in her voice, Navia said, “When you say it, it sounds so final. It makes it feel like it’ll happen no matter what.”
Neuvillette thought for a moment and then said, “Next we meet, you will make four macarons with ease.”
Navia giggled. “The vote of confidence is appreciated, Monsieur Neuvillette.”