Chapter Text
The sea is quiet. It feels almost like a moment frozen in time; Freminet can only hear his own heartbeat, the rush of his breath in his diving helmet, and the subtle rumble of the waves. He floats, letting the current sway him gently, and soaks in the peace he cannot find anywhere else.
He knows most people who dive in Fontaine like to explore the seafloor, swim between the dancing stalks of seagrass and wonder at the colourful schools of fish. Freminet usually does, too. Today would be a good day for it, with the sun spearing its light as far down as the seabed stretches, and he is tempted; it's days like this, or clear, moonlit nights, when he's happiest collecting shells and playing with blubber beasts. That's when the sea is most beautiful. But he's not alone today, and so, he cannot stray far.
Were he to look up, he could see the splashing figures of the other kids from the House of the Hearth. Father granted them permission for a day at the beach, in part because of a week of constant nagging from the little ones, and in part because Lyney asked her in private, and took full responsibility for the outing. The kids are either swimming on the surface, play-diving in the shallows, or resting on the sandy beach. Everyone is a comfortable distance away from him, letting him relish the quiet of the tranquil sea.
Guilt gnaws at Freminet's fingers when he thinks about how he's enjoying himself in peace while his brother has to keep his eye on everyone. The sting of it makes him unfurl, and check his pockets for the pretty rocks and seashells he's gathered earlier as gifts before he swims up, a few easy kicks of his legs carrying him far. Sound rushes back to him as he breaks the surface. He tamps down the ache of already missing the depths.
The breeze draws goosebumps onto his skin as he wades to shore. A shiver lingers in his flesh, like a sneeze waiting to happen yet never bursting out. On a sunny day like this, the cold is quickly offset by his black diving suit soaking in the sun's warmth, and he's not been properly cold from diving ever since he got his vision anyway.
Lyney and Lynette are on the shore, stretched out on a picnic blanket laid down where sand has yet to turn into soft grass. They have a good view of the children playing in the water, and on the large sandcastle Heloir and Foltz are constructing. Lyney is in his bathing suit, having waded in with the kids at first, but Freminet knows he didn't stay in the water for long. Just like Lynette, he dislikes getting soaked. He's on his back, seemingly dozing, but Freminet is sure that one of his eyes is cracked open, not letting a single sibling out of sight. Lynette is on her stomach next to him, on the side of the sun so he doesn't block even a sliver of it's warmth. Her ear twitches as Freminet nears them.
Just as expected, Lyney turns to him the moment he reaches the blanket. He smiles, bright as the sun he has to squint against. "Freminet! How was the deep blue sea?"
"Nice," he mumbles, then holds out his hand. "Here, I picked this for you."
Lyney's gaze brightens, somehow, even though that seems like an impossible concept. He sits up, and accepts the gift. The seashell is a soft cream colour, with streaks of pinkish red across it, and due to a few breaks and splintering, it's shaped roughly like a cat's head.
"This is wonderful!" Lyney gasps. He turns the shell over in his palm, then looks back up at Freminet. "Thank you so much! I'll make sure to keep it safe."
Freminet can feel himself blush from the adoration in his brother's eyes. He might call it a fluke, a mask kept firmly in place, had he not seen the neat little jar in the twin's room where Lyney carefully stores all the shells and pebbles and seaglass Freminet presents him with. He knows half of Lyney's smiles are to please, but he trusts his brother. Their time spent together is nearing a decade, and Freminet is willing to put his anxieties to bed because of it.
He silently places another shell, shaped and coloured like a croissant, by Lynette's feet, rather than to disturb her nap. He knows she notices, but she doesn't twitch. Lyney tells him to help himself to some fruit from the picnic basket they brought, but Freminet politely refuses, and settles down in the grass to dry.
While not as nice as the bottom of the sea, the shore is still quiet enough that he looses himself in tinkering. He wants to make a friend for Pers, and the blubber beast he's decided on has been coming along well enough. It doesn't more very smoothly yet, and the outer shell is half-finished, but he's not had a lot of time to work on it lately. So he takes this chance, and sinks into the mess of cogs inside the metal casing. Solid metal against his fingertips, the smell of iron and salt, and the hazy sound of the sea.
They head back into the Court later in the afternoon, when the kids had another chance to splash around after the noon sun's burn has eased. Their lunch was cold cuts and fruit, not terribly different from their meals at the House, but still elevated by the occasion. Freminet is still damp from his second dive; he left the sea just as they were about to leave, right before Lyney called for the children to gather their things and get ready. He takes the rear with Lynette as they usher everyone back home. It's only right; the three of them are the oldest ones to have come to the beach.
Dinner is spent with recounting adventures, displaying cuts from sharp shells and bruises from busy crabs, and making solemn vows to return to the shore the very next day. Father doesn't join them, but she had spoken to Lyney briefly after they got home, so she probably knows all that she needs. The chatter ends easily once everyone is full, and the excitement of the day finally weighs the children's eyes down. Soon, the House grows quiet.
Freminet curls up in his bed, heart light with contentment. The House of the Heart is not always a happy place; its shadows only hide the bloodstains as long as no one is looking for them. But Lyney hugged him goodnight, warm and familiar, and Freminet saw the croissant shaped shell on Lynette's nightstand as he wished them sweet dreams. For all the pain, the fear and doubt, he can't imagine another place he could call home. Not without his siblings.